Under the Great Bear

by Kirk Munroe

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  OBJECTS OF CHARITY.

  While Cabot felt very bitter against the young Indian whom he had named"Arsenic," on account of the base ingratitude with which the latter hadrepaid the kindness shown him, and was determined to punish him for itin some way, he had not the slightest idea what form the punishmentwould take. Of course he did not intend to kill Arsenic, nor even toseverely injure him, but he had thought of giving the rascal a soundthrashing, and only hoped he could make him understand what it was for.In the excitement of the past two weeks he had forgotten all aboutArsenic, but the sight of those ragged children had awakened hisanimosity, and he had followed them, hoping that they would lead him tothe object of his just wrath. It was only when he reached thesorry-looking tent that he remembered the other savages whom Arsenichad brought with him on his second visit to the schooner, and wonderedif some of them might not be concealed behind the canvas screen readyto spring upon him.

  With this thought he stepped nimbly to one side as he threw open theflap, and stood for a moment waiting for what might happen. There wasno rush of men and no sound, save only a faint cry of terror, hearingwhich Cabot peered cautiously around the edge of the opening.

  A poor little fire of sticks smouldered on the ground in the middle,filling the place with a pungent smoke. Through this Cabot could atfirst make out only a confused huddle at one side, from which severalpairs of eyes glared at him like those of wild beasts. As he enteredthe tent a human figure detached itself from this and strove to rise,but fell back weakly helpless. In another moment a closer viewdisclosed to Cabot the whole dreadful situation. The huddle resolveditself into a woman, hollow-cheeked and gaunt with sickness and hunger,two children in slightly better plight, and a little dead baby. Therewas no other person in the tent, and it contained no furnishing exceptthe heap of boughs, rags, and scraps of fur that passed for a bed, anda broken kettle that lay beside the fire. On the floor were scattereda few bones picked clean, from which even the marrow had beenextracted; but otherwise there was no vestige of food.

  "I believe they are starving to death!" cried Cabot, as he made thesediscoveries.

  "It certainly looks like it," replied White, who had followed hisfriend into the tent. "I wonder what they did with all the provisionsthey stole from us."

  "Probably they were taken from them in turn to feed those otherIndians. At any rate, they are destitute enough now, and we can'tleave them here to die. Go and bring Yim with the sled as quick as youcan, while I wake up this fire."

  "All right," replied White, "only I'm afraid he won't come."

  "He must come," said Cabot decisively.

  The hatred between Eskimo and Indian is so bitter that it took allWhite's powers of persuasion, together with certain threats, to bringYim to the tent, but once there even he was sufficiently roused by itsspectacle of suffering to bestir himself most actively.

  During the next hour, while the starving, half-frozen Indians werewarmed and fed, the rescuers discussed the situation and what should bedone. They could not leave the helpless family as they had found them,neither could they carry them away, and it would be folly to remainwith them longer than was absolutely necessary. They could not gain aword of information from the woman or children as to how they hadarrived at such a pitiable plight, what they had done with the stolenprovisions, why their friends had abandoned them, or what had become ofArsenic.

  "I'll tell you what," said Cabot at length; "we'll provide them with asupply of wood and leave all the provisions we can possibly spare.Then we will hurry on to Indian Harbour, send back some more provisionsfrom there by Yim, and get him to report the case to Mr. Mellins."

  As there seemed nothing better to be done, this plan was carried out,though dividing the provisions made each portion look woefully small,and by noon the sledge was again on its way southward.

  The head of the fiord having been reached, the trail now left thesheltering timber and struck across an open country, which was alsoextremely rugged, abounding in hills and hollows. Over these thesledge pulled heavily, in spite of its lightened load, because one ofthe ice shoes, with which its runners were shod, had broken and couldnot be repaired until camp was made.

  When they had gone about three miles, and while our lads were stilltalking of the suffering they had so recently witnessed, they wereattracted by an exclamation from Yim, who was pointing eagerly ahead.Looking in that direction, they saw a line of dark objects, that hadjust topped a distant ridge, running swiftly towards them.

  "Caribou!" shouted White, in great excitement, at the same time seizinghis rifle from the sledge and hastily removing it from its sealskincase. In another minute sledge and dogs were concealed in a bit of agully, with Cabot to watch them, while Yim and White, lying flat behindthe crest of a low ridge, were eagerly noting the course of theapproaching animals. When it became evident that they would pass atsome distance on the right, White, crouching low, ran in that direction.

  The caribou appeared badly frightened, pausing every few moments toface about and cast terrified glances over the way they had come. Allat once, during one of these pauses, a shot rang out, followed quicklyby another, and, as the terrified animals dashed madly away in a newdirection, one of their number dropped behind, staggered, and fell.

  "I've got him! I've got him!" yelled White, wild with the joy of hisachievement.

  "Hurrah for us!" shouted Cabot. "Steaks and spare-ribs for supperto-night."

  "Yip, yip, yip!" screamed Yim to his dogs, and with a jubilant chorusof yells and yelpings, the entire outfit streamed over the ridge to theplace where the unfortunate caribou lay motionless.

  In his broken English Yim gave the lads to understand that it would beadvisable to camp where they were, in order to prepare their meat fortransportation, and also to mend their broken sledge shoe. Thislatter, he explained, could be done much better with a mixture of bloodand snow than with any other available material. He furthermoreintimated that he feared they might be overtaken by a blizzard beforemorning, in which case they could best defy it in a regularly builtigloo.

  All these reasons for delay seemed so good that the others acceptedthem, and the work outlined by Yim was immediately begun. In cuttingup the caribou, as in building the snow hut, Cabot, from lack ofexperience, could give but slight assistance, and, realising this, hemade a proposal.

  "Look here," he said. "The wood we have brought along won't last longand I want a good fire to-night. I also want to carry some of thismeat to those poor wretches we have just left. We have got more thanwe can take with us, anyhow. So I am going back with a leg of venison,and on my return I'll bring all the wood I can pack."

  "But you might lose the way," objected White.

  "No one could lose so plain a trail as the one we have just made,"replied Cabot, scornfully.

  "Suppose it should be dark before you got back?"

  "There will be three hours of daylight yet, and I won't be gone morethan two at the most. Anyhow, I must get some of this meat to thosestarving children."

  White's protests were ineffectual before Cabot's strong resolve, and,as soon as a forequarter of the caribou could be made ready, the latterget forth on his errand of mercy. Although he had no difficulty infinding the trail, it was so much harder to walk with a heavy load thanit had been without one that a full hour had passed before he againcame within sight of the lonely tent in the forest.

  One of the children who was outside spied him and announced his coming,so that when he entered the tent he again found a frightened grouphuddled together and apprehensively awaiting him. But they werestronger now, and the children uttered little squeals of joy at sightof the meat he had brought, while even the haggard face of their motherwas lighted by a fleeting smile.

  For the pleasure of seeing the children eat Cabot toasted a few stripsof venison over the coals, and these smelled so good that he cut offsome more for himself. In this occupation he spent another hourwithout realising the flight of time,
and had eaten a quantity of meatthat he would have deemed impossible had it all been placed before himat once.

  As he was bending over the fire toasting a strip that he said tohimself should be the last, a slight cry from one of the childrencaused him to look up. He barely caught a glimpse of a face at theentrance as it was hastily withdrawn, but in that moment he recognisedthe features of Arsenic. At sight of the ill-favoured young Indian allof Cabot's former resentment flamed up, and springing to his feet hedashed from the tent, determined to give Arsenic the thrashing hedeserved.

  Of course Cabot had removed his snowshoes, but, as the young Indian haddone the same thing, both were compelled to readjust theseall-important articles, without which they would have flounderedhelplessly in the deep snow.

  Arsenic was off first, and though Cabot chased him hotly he could notovercome the advantage thus gained. Being also much less expert in themanagement of snowshoes, he tripped several times, and finally pitchedheadlong. When he next regained his feet Arsenic had disappeared inthe timber, and our lad realised the futility of a further pursuit.Now, too, he noticed that the sky had become heavily overcast, and thata strong wind was soughing ominously through the tree tops.

  "It must be later than I thought," he reflected, "and high time for meto be getting back to camp." With this he hastily gathered a bundle ofsticks to be used as firewood and started, as he supposed, towards theopen; but so confused was he, and so many turns did he make, that morethan half an hour was wasted before he finally emerged from the timber.Here he was dismayed to find that snow was falling, or rather beingdriven in straight lines by the wind, which had increased to the forceof a gale.

  "I've got to hump myself to reach camp before dark, but I'll make itall right," he remarked to himself, as he set forth across the whiteplain.

  He took a diagonal course that he hoped would lead him to the trail,but by the time all landmarks were obliterated by the descending nighthe had failed to find it. In looking back he could not evendistinguish the timber line from which he had come. Then the awfulconviction slowly forced itself upon him that he was lost in atrackless wilderness, swept by the first fury of an Arctic blizzard.