CHAPTER III
THE LONELY CAMP
A lynx may be only a cat, but a cat that is the size of a young tiger,with all a tiger's ferocity, is no pleasant opponent at any time. Add tonaturally aggressive tendencies the fact that her baby has cried out inpain, and you have an angry mother-fiend that takes a deal of seeking tofind her equal in fierceness.
In this case the lynx had been watching the young hunters with one eyefor some time from her shelter among the leaves of the overhangingmaple. She had been keeping the other eye upon her offspring, having anidea that the humans might endanger its safety; and, when she heard thecry of pain, she simply dropped from her branch right upon Holden'sback, fixing her claws in his coat and snapping furiously at his neck.
Luckily the boy's hunting-coat was of tough buckskin, and when the lynxset her teeth in the collar she imagined that she was wreaking vengeanceupon flesh and blood. And the sound she made was enough to chill themarrow.
Arnold had heard the scream and his chum's cry of surprise at the suddenassault. But he did not understand it at first. He surmised vaguely thatit was nothing more than sympathetic rejoicing at his successful shotthat had toppled a fine buck antelope in the grass.
However, second thoughts quickly dispelled the first surmise, for heheard Holden calling upon him in evident trouble.
"Bob! Come quickly! There's something on my back, and I can't get atit!"
Bob dashed into the long grass as the shortest route. But before he hadcrossed the slough Alf had managed to free himself from one sleeve ofhis coat, and had got the lynx beneath him.
Now it was a hand-to-hand fight. The claws of the animal seemed to beeverywhere. They struck with lightning swiftness, and the teeth snappedlike steel gins. In fact, the boy's opponent was simply a mass of furand claws--nothing that could be gripped, but everything that couldwound.
"Don't shoot!" exclaimed Alf, as his friend appeared with gun halfraised in his hands. "You can't get a clean shot at her--ugh! the brute!She's clawed my shoulder!"
It was a fierce struggle while it lasted.
Hot and panting, Alf fought to get a grip of the creature's throat. She,on her part, seemed to divine his purpose, and battled successfully toprevent him.
The combatants rolled over. The lynx was uppermost, and she made avicious snap at the boy's face. But the quick head-turn of a trainedboxer avoided that snap, and the sharp white teeth met in the lad's coatcollar, slightly grazing his neck.
Alf gave a cry of pain.
That was too much for Bob, who snatched his hunting-knife from itssheath, and threw himself upon the enemy.
One plunge of the blade in the animal's side made it yell like a thingpossessed. Then Bob dug his thumbs into the lynx's neck and pressed hisfingers into its throat, pulling towards him with all his might, to dragthe animal from his friend.
The knife was still sticking in the wound, and as the lynx felt anotherenemy above her, she momentarily turned her attention to the one above,while she struck with her claws to deliver herself from the fingers thatwere choking her.
That was Alf's chance. He plucked at the hunting-knife, and plunged itinto the wild animal with three rapid thrusts.
Then followed another scream more wild and blood-curdling than the rest.It was a death-cry; for in a moment more Bob stood up, holding a limpbody by the neck.
Holden slowly rose from his bed of broken willows, and he grinned as heregarded his clothes--especially the jacket, that hung from his left armlike the evening dress of a Weary Willie.
"Rather the worse for wear and tear!" he remarked with comicalruefulness.
"Which? The clothes or yourself?" questioned Bob, as he threw the lynx'scarcase to one side.
"I guess it's the clothes more than anything else. There's a lot ofblood about, but that's the lynx's more than mine."
In truth the lad was a strange spectacle, for hardly an inch of hisclothes had not been visited by claws or teeth. The boy himself wascovered with dust and dirt, while crimson patches of blood completed apicture that was both humorous and pathetic.
Fortunately, both the boys were able to look at the matter from theformer point of view. Physical damage was not severe. There was ascratch on Alf's shoulder. Arnold examined it carefully, but decidedthat no danger was likely to follow, since the claws had passed throughthe leather jacket before touching the flesh. As a precaution againstblood-poisoning, he insisted upon sucking the wound, after which hebound it with a handkerchief.
"That will be all right, I expect," he said, as the operation wascompleted. "I don't think we need worry about the other scratches."
"There would have been more--worse ones, probably--if you hadn't turnedup," said Alf. "I couldn't get at the beast any way. She seemed to haveclaws like a porcupine's quills."
"And she knew jolly well how to use them. Do you think she's worthskinning?"
The dead lynx was examined.
"I don't think the hide is worth the trouble," commented Holden. "It's abit ragged in any case, and the hunting-knife did not improve it. ButI'll take the tail as a memento. What about the antelope?"
"Oh, I got him all right. He's lying somewhere in the grass."
"Good!" exclaimed Alf delightedly. He had soon recovered from theexhaustion of the fight. "That will surprise the paters when they returnto grub. And say! I'm as hungry as a hawk. Let's get back to camp. Itmust be getting on for noon by this time."
"Half-past ten. That's all," remarked Bob, as he looked at his watch."Time drags when the appetite's healthy. I vote we leave the antelopewhere it is for the present, and shoot a few chicken for dinner. Itwould be a pity for us to try skinning the animal. We might spoil italtogether. I dare say father will do it for us afterwards."
"What about wolves?" questioned Alf.
"Yes, I hadn't thought of them. But I don't think there's much chance ofwolves coming in the daytime. It would be safe enough until night."
"Right you are," agreed Alf. "First for the tail of my lynx, and then abee-line for the camp."
Retracing their path by the buffalo trail, the boys were soon on thehome journey again. Five prairie chicken were bagged on the way, andsoon the hunters were once more at the camp-ground.
Of course Holden's first move was to strip, plunge into the river, andthen robe himself in garments that were less like a rag-picker's bundle.Meantime, Arnold set to work lighting a fire and preparing the chickenfor roasting on wooden spits, as their camping experience had taughtthem.
By midday the meal was in readiness. The birds were cooked, "biscuits"were baked in the camp-oven, the fragrant smell of coffee was issuingfrom a billy-tin, and all preparations completed to welcome the elderhunters.
But time went past, and there was no sign of a canoe on the river.
"I wonder if they have missed their way?" remarked Alf, to whom thewaiting was a trial, considering inside calls and tempting odours.
"I don't think that's likely," said Bob. "Your dad and mine are both oldbackwoodsmen. I'm beginning to think something has happened----"
"An accident?"
"Possibly. But of course we can't tell. But it isn't like them to belate when they promised to be back by noon."
"But then, if an accident has happened to one, the other could alwayscome back and let us know," Alf answered; and his chum returned--
"That's just what I've been thinking. I don't want to frighten you, oldman, but I can't help thinking that something has gone wrong with both."
"Perhaps it's the canoe. It might have got damaged. They were exploringnew water, you know."
Bob nodded.
"As likely as not. In that case they'll come back by land, and thatwould take some time, as, of course, they would go much quicker bywater. We'll wait a little longer, and if they don't arrive we'd betterhave our grub. They'll turn up later."
The boys waited as patiently as possible, but ultimately, with no signof the travellers, they were obliged to dine alone; though the meal wasnot eaten with customary cheerfu
lness, for both the boys sharedforebodings of troubles to come.
The day wore on, and still no signs of the wanderers, while the anxietyof the boys rapidly increased. And when night came, without bringingany news to allay concern, they then began to decide that some seriousaccident must have taken place.
Until late into the hours of darkness the two lads sat by the camp-fire,starting hopefully at each sound from the forest or river--ready tobelieve that any whisper of Nature must be the sound of a reassuringmessenger.
How different it was from their usual little camp-fire gatherings! Atsuch times they were wont to loll about while reciting the manyincidents of the day just gone, and planning fresh exploits for themorrow. Even last night they had thus sat and planned the expeditionthat had ended in adding a heavier gloom to the night.
The fire-flies flickered their tiny lamps, the night-hawks shrieked asthey swooped from the heavens, the owls hooted their dismal cries, andthe wolves wailed in the distance as they fought over the remains of theantelope that had been left to them.
It must have been near midnight when Bob broke an unusually long spellof silence.
"Well, old boy," he said, with forced brightness, "I guess the bestthing we can do is to turn in. They won't be back to-night, that'scertain."
"Yet--one might come. I wouldn't like to be asleep if--if there was anycall, you know."
"Then we'll take it turn about--two hours asleep, two hours watch," wasthe elder boy's practical suggestion. "Besides, very likely we areworrying ourselves without need. Anything may have happened to keep themfrom returning--not even an accident, as we've been supposing. One neverknows what may take place in the backwoods, and--and perhaps they wereforced to wait till morning."
Bob knew, and Alf knew as well, that it was but a plucky attempt to lookat fears in the best light--an effort to convince both against theirconviction that their evil forebodings were groundless.
But Alf was not easily convinced.
"I am sure that nothing except accident could have happened to preventat least your father or mine from returning to camp. They would knowthat we should be worried. And no matter how far they went by canoe inthe morning, there has been plenty of time to walk the distance. I can'thelp thinking that they came upon tracks of the moose, as they wanted,and----"
"Hush," interrupted Bob kindly. "Don't let your imagination run awaywith you like that, old man. Besides, you know what good shots both ourfathers are. They know the ways of most big game. No; I can't think thatyou are right. Such an accident _might_ happen to one--even the finesttrapper; but, to both--believe me, it's out of the question. Now, turnin like a good chap. I'll take first watch."
"You'll wake me as soon as the two hours are up?" pressed Alf, reluctantto leave the watch when he might have first sign of news.
"Yes, I'll waken you. Don't worry about that. You are tired as a dog asit is--what with fighting lynxes and other excitements. In two hoursyou'll find that I'll be too ready for sleep to let you doze a secondover time."
The Fiery Totem Page 3