Castlemon Harry
Frank in the Woods

“Ole Bill had made mighty good use of his time, an’ the way he stuck his heels into his hoss’ sides war a thing to look at. He tried to load up his rifle, but the bushes war so thick that he had to lay close along his hoss, to keep from bein’ swept off by them.

“I drawed up long enough to ram home a ball, an’ then started on agin, an’ when I come up with Bill, I found that he had got into a reg’lar laurel brake. The bushes war thicker than ever, an’ as tough as green hickory, an’ Bill’s hoss couldn’t hardly make no headway at all. But they didn’t seem to bother the varmint any, for he tumbled along as though the bushes hadn’t been more’n straws; an’ he war gainin’ on Bill.

“It war a fine sight to see the way the ole feller carried himself then. He held his knife in one hand, an’ his clubbed rifle in the other, keepin’ his eyes on the bar all the while, an’ leavin’ his hoss to pick out his own way. He didn’t look the least bit skeery, but I knowed he war kalkerlatin’ how many clips he could get at the bar afore the varmint could grab him. The dogs war bitin’ at the bar’s legs all the while, an’ purty soon he had to stop agin to fight ’em off. He raised on his haunches, an’ struck at the hounds, which war as spry as cats, an’ had been in barfights often enough to know how to keep out of his reach.

“‘Now’s your time, Dick,’ said ole Bill. ‘Shoot close! My hoss ar purty nigh tuckered.’

“I war all ready, an’ ridin’ up purty close, so as to get in a good shot, I drawed a bead on him, an’ fired, expectin’ to bring him, sure. But a bush atween me an’ him glanced the ball, so that I only made an ugly wound in his shoulder. He give an angry growl, an’, beatin’ off the dogs, he dropped on all-fours, an’ made arter me.

“‘Now,’ thinks I, ‘Dick Lewis, you’re in a blamed ugly scrape;’ and so I war. The bar warn’t more’n twenty feet from me; and afore my hoss had made three jumps, the bar made a claw at him, an’ pulled out half his tail. The animal was doin’ his best, but I see that it warn’t healthy to stay on his back, an’, as we passed under a tree, I grabbed hold of a limb jest above my head, an’ swung myself clar off the saddle, jest in time to see the varmint put both paws on my hoss, an’ pull him to the ground. But that war his last move, for ole Bill sent a bullet through his brain that throwed him dead in his tracks.

“I come down out of my tree, feelin’ about as mean as any feller you ever see, for a man might as well be on the prairy without his head as without his hoss, an’ mine war one of the best that ever wore a saddle. But the bar had done the work for him, an’ no amount of grievin’ could fetch me another; so I choked down my feelin’s, an’ begun to help ole Bill to take off the grizzly’s hide. But there war plenty of Injuns about, an’ it warn’t long afore I had another hoss; an’ ’bout a year arter that I ketched one for which many a trapper would have give all the beaver-skins he ever had. But that’s another story.”

CHAPTER X
A Beaver Hunt

THE next morning, as soon as they had eaten their breakfast, the trapper went to the door, and, after listening, and looking at the sky a few moments, said:

“Youngsters, if we intend to ketch any of them beaver, we had better do it to-day. We are goin’ to have a storm as is a storm, an’ afore two days the woods will be blocked up so that we can’t do no huntin’ at all.”

Frank and George were eager to accompany the trapper, for beaver-hunting was something entirely new to them; but Archie and Harry concluded to make another attempt to capture the black fox; for the trapper’s description of his swiftness and cunning had rendered him an object worthy of attention, and made the young hunters more anxious than ever to catch him.

Frank and George drew on their overcoats, strapped their blankets fast to their belts, and filled their haversacks. When all was ready, each shouldered his gun and an ax, and followed the trapper from the cabin. About noon they came to a halt on the banks of a large pond that lay hemmed in on all sides by the trees. Near the center of this pond were several objects of a conical shape, looking like drifts of snow. These were the beavers’ houses.

The boys were entirely at a loss to conceive how they were to go to work to capture the beaver. If they began to cut through the houses, the animals would take the alarm in a moment, and dive under the ice, where they would be safe from all pursuit.

“I’ll show you how it is done,” said the trapper, who perceived that they did not understand it. “In the first place, take your axes and go and pound on every house you can see.”

“Why, that will frighten out all the beaver,” said Frank.

“That’s jest what I want to do,” said Dick; “but you must know that a beaver can’t live under the ice any longer than me or you.”

He then went on to explain that the banks on each side of the pond were supplied with “breathing-holes,” which were dug into the bank, and extended upward above the level of the water, and that the beaver, when frightened out of their houses, would seek refuge in these holes, where they could be easily captured.

“But how do we know where these holes are?” asked George.

“Easy enough,” answered Dick. “All you have got to do is to go along the bank an’ strike the ice with an ax, an’ you can tell by the sound where they are. But I fixed all that when I first diskivered this pond. I know jest where the holes are. Now, you go an’ pound on them houses, an’ drive out the beaver.”

The boys accordingly laid down their guns, and commenced an attack on the dwellings of the beaver, when the animals at once plunged into the water under the ice. After every house had been visited, and the boys were satisfied that they had made noise sufficient to drive out all the beaver, they returned to the place where they had left the trapper, and found him engaged in cutting a hole in the ice close to the bank. As the boys came up, he directed one of them to fasten his hunting-knife to a long sapling for a spear, and the other to chop a hole in the bank directly opposite to the one he had cut in the ice.

By the time the spear was finished, an opening had been cut down into the “breathing-hole,” and the hunters discovered three beaver crouching in the furthest corner. Useless thrust his head into the hole, and contented himself with barking at the game; but Brave squeezed himself down into the opening among the beavers, and attacked them furiously. The animals made a desperate resistance, and in a few moments Brave backed out of the hole, with his ears and nose bleeding from several wounds, which showed that the long teeth of the beaver had been used to a good advantage. Frank gazed in surprise at the dog’s lacerated head, and exclaimed:

“There’s something besides a beaver in there.”

“No, I reckon not,” replied the trapper. “Your dog is jest about as keerless as you be, an’ hasn’t got no more sense than to pitch into every wild varmint he comes acrost. You must understand that a beaver can get up a tarnal good fight if he onct makes up his mind to it. An’ when you get one of ’em cornered up, it takes somethin’ besides a ’coon dog to whip him.”

Frank made no reply, and the trapper reached down with his long spear, when one after the other of the beavers were killed and pulled out on the bank. The attack on the houses was then renewed, to drive out any of the animals which might have returned. In the next breathing-hole two beavers were found, but only one was secured, the other making his escape by plunging back under the ice. While they were cutting into the next hole, a large mink suddenly popped out from under the roots of a tree into which the trapper was chopping; and although George made a frantic blow at him with the handle of his ax, he succeeded in getting past him, and started across the pond toward the opposite shore. The boys immediately went in pursuit, George leading the way, and Frank following close behind him, brandishing his spear, and shouting to the dogs, which were close upon the mink’s heels. The little animal made headway through the snow with a rapidity that was surprising; but the long bounds of the dogs were rapidly diminishing the distance between them, and when about half way across the pond, Useless overtook and seized him. The boys increased their speed, fearful that the dog might spoil the skin, which was one of the finest they had ever seen.

“Useless!” shouted George, “get out! Drop that” —

He did not finish the sentence; for suddenly there was a loud crack, and the ice opened beneath him, and he sank out of sight in the cold water. Frank, as we have said, was following close behind him, and at the rate of speed at which he was running, it was impossible to stop; and the trapper, who had been watching the race, and had witnessed the accident with an expression of great concern depicted on his weather-beaten countenance, expected to see Frank disappear also. But the young naturalist always had his wits about him, and summoning all his strength, he sprang into the air, and cleared the hole into which George had fallen, by an extraordinary leap, and landed on the firm ice on the opposite side. George rose almost instantly, for he was an expert swimmer; but his sudden immersion into the cold water seemed to have paralyzed his limbs, and rendered him incapable of action. Frank turned immediately and made a desperate clutch at George’s long hair; but he was too late, for the unfortunate young hunter again sank slowly out of sight. Frank’s mind was made up in an instant, and hastily pulling off his fur cap and comforter, he unbuckled his belt and began to divest himself of his overcoat.

“Take care now, youngster,” exclaimed the trapper, who at this moment came up. “Don’t let George get a hold of you, or you’ll both go down together;” and Dick threw himself on his knees, and stretched his long arm out over the water ready to catch George if he should come up within his reach, while Frank stood upon the edge of the ice, ready to plunge into the water the moment his companion should rise again.

But his intentions were anticipated; for at this moment Brave came bounding to the spot, carrying the mink in his mouth. Understanding, in an instant, that something was wrong, he dropped his game and sprang into the water. At this moment George’s head appeared at the surface, and the dog seized him, when, to the horror of the hunters, both disappeared together. But they arose a moment afterward, and Brave, holding the rescued hunter by the collar of his coat, swam toward his master, and George was drawn out on the ice, in a state of insensibility.

“Here! here!” exclaimed Dick, running around to the place where Frank was kneeling, holding George in his arms; “give him to me, an’ you run back an’ get the axes.”

The trapper raised his young companion in his arms as easily as though he had been an infant, and started toward the bank at the top of his speed; while Frank, after pulling Brave out of the water, ran back after the axes, as Dick had directed. When he again found the trapper, he was on the bank, kneeling beside George, and engaged in chafing his hands and temples.

“Now, youngster!” he exclaimed, hurriedly, “if you ever worked in your life, work now. Build a fire and throw up a shantee. We must get his wet clothes off him to onct.”

Frank, as may be supposed, worked with a will, knowing that the life of his companion depended on his exertions. In a short time a roaring fire was started, and a rude shelter erected, when George’s wet and frozen clothes were pulled off and hung up to dry, and he was warmly wrapped up in blankets. The rubbing was continued a few moments longer, when they had the satisfaction of seeing him open his eyes and gaze about him. Dick now left the hut. In a short time he returned, with a bunch of herbs in his hand, and soon afterward a cup of strong, nauseating tea was pressed to George’s lips, and he was compelled to swallow the whole of it. He was then enveloped in more blankets, and ordered to “go to sleep.”

While Frank and the trapper were seated beside the fire, talking over the accident, they heard the noise of approaching footsteps on the crust, and presently Archie and Harry hurried up to the hut.

“What’s the matter with George?” inquired the latter, hurriedly, for he saw that Dick and Frank were the only ones at the fire.

“O, he got a duckin’ in the pond, that’s all,” replied the trapper. “Don’t be alarmed. He’s sleepin’ nicely now.”

“We thought somebody was drowned, sure,” said Archie, “for we saw the hole in the ice, and your guns and overcoats scattered about, as though they had been thrown down in a great hurry.”

In about an hour George awoke, and, of course, was immediately assailed with innumerable questions. Among others, his brother asked him why he didn’t swim when he fell into the water.

“Why didn’t I swim!” repeated George; “I couldn’t move. It seemed as though every drop of blood in my body was frozen solid as soon as I touched the water. But where’s the black fox you were going to bring back with you? Did you catch him?”

Archie replied in the negative; and then went on to tell how they had found the trail in the gully, followed it for a mile, then suddenly lost it again, all efforts to recover it proving unsuccessful.

About the middle of the afternoon, George, declaring that he was able to travel, was allowed to put on his clothes, and the hunters shouldered their guns and started for home.

The sight of their snug little cabin was a pleasant thing to the eyes of the trappers that evening, for the day’s hunt had been a hard as well as a profitable one. A fire was quickly started, and, while their supper was cooking, George changed his wet clothes; and a strong cup of coffee, as the trapper remarked, “set him all right again.” After supper, how soft and comfortable their blankets felt! They lay for a long time in silence, watching the sparks as they arose slowly toward the opening in the roof that served as a chimney, and listening to the whistling of the wind and the sifting of the snow against the walls of the cabin; for the storm that the trapper had predicted had already set in.

CHAPTER XI
Breaking up a Moose-Pen

ON awaking the next morning, they found that the cabin was almost covered with snow, and the woods were filled with drifts, that rendered it impossible for them to resume their hunting. The two days that followed were passed in-doors, curing the skins of the animals they had taken, and listening to the trapper’s stories.

On the third day, a heavy thaw set in, and at night the wind changed around to the north, and covered the snow with a crust that would easily bear a man. Early the next morning the hunters set out. George and Frank accompanied the trapper, to assist in breaking up a moose-pen, which the latter had discovered a few days previous to the storm, and Archie and Harry determined to again attempt the capture of the black fox.

The trapper led his young companions through the woods, and across the pond where George had met with his accident. About a mile further on, he came to a halt, and said, almost in a whisper:

“Now, youngsters, we are a’most to the moose-pen. You stay here, George; an’ remember, don’t go to movin’ up on the game till you hear me shoot.”

“I don’t see any moose,” said George.

“In course you don’t,” said the trapper. “But they are in the woods here, an’ me and Frank will go an’ surround them. It’ll take mighty keerful steppin’, though,” he continued, turning to Frank, “for moose have got an ear like an Injun’s. Be keerful now how you walk.” So saying, the trapper shouldered his heavy rifle, and moved off through the woods, accompanied by Frank. About half a mile further on, the latter was stationed on the banks of a deep ravine; and Dick, after repeating his instructions, continued on alone.

The stalwart form of the trapper had scarcely disappeared, when Frank heard a noise in the bushes, and presently a large moose appeared, leisurely wading through the deep snow, and cropping the branches as he approached. As if by instinct, Frank’s gun was leveled; but remembering the trapper’s instructions, the weapon was lowered, and the young hunter stepped back into the bushes, and watched the motions of the animal. He was a noble fellow – very much like the one with which Frank had engaged in that desperate struggle in the woods – with antlers fully four feet in length. The animal appeared totally unconscious of danger, and, after browsing about among the bushes for a few moments, walked back into the woods again, but almost instantly reappeared, and made for the ravine at the top of his speed. At this moment, the well-known report of the trapper’s rifle echoed through the woods. It was followed by a crashing in the crust, and presently another moose appeared, and, like the former, ran toward the ravine. A short distance behind him came the trapper, holding his rifle in one hand and his huge hunting-knife in the other, and rapidly gaining on the deer, which sank through the crust into the deep snow at every step. Frank and Brave immediately joined in the pursuit, and the moose had not run far before he was overtaken and seized by the dog. Frank, remembering his first experience in moose-hunting, halted at a safe distance, and was about to “make sure work” of the game, when the trapper darted past him, exclaiming:

“Don’t shoot, youngster. That’s a young moose; an’ if you can ketch him, he’ll be worth more nor all the stuffed critters you’ve got at home.”

Here was an opportunity which, to Frank, was too good to be lost. Hastily dropping his gun, and producing a piece of rope from the pocket of his overcoat, he ran up to the game, and, after a brief struggle, succeeded in fastening it around his neck. The dog was then ordered to let go his hold, when the moose instantly sprang to his feet and started to run. Frank was thrown flat in the snow, but he clung to the rope with all his strength. After a short time the young moose, wearied with his useless efforts to escape, ceased his struggles, and his captors led, or rather pulled, him along through the woods toward the place where the game had first been started.

“Now,” said the trapper, “you’ve got a pet that is worth something. He’s jest the thing you want. You won’t have to drag your sleds home now.”

“Why not?” inquired Frank.

“Cause this yere moose can pull you four fellers further in one day than you can travel in two. I knowed a trader at Fort Laramie that had one o’ them critters, and he used to hitch him up to a sled, an’ think nothin’ o’ travelin’ sixty miles a day.”

While they were talking, George came up, and, after the hunters had collected their game, Dick led the way toward home, while Frank brought up the rear, leading the young moose.

Meanwhile, Archie and Harry were in hot pursuit of the black fox. They found the trail, as before, in the gully, and Sport started off on it, and met with no difficulty until they arrived on the banks of a small stream that ran a short distance from the cabin. Here the trail came to an abrupt termination, and all efforts to recover it were unavailing. This was the identical spot where they had lost it before. For almost an hour they continued, but without any success; and Harry exclaimed, as he dropped the butt of his gun to the ground, and leaned upon the muzzle with rather a dejected air:

“It’s no use. We’re fooled again. That fox has got his regular run-ways, and we might as well call off the dogs, and go home.”

“Not yet,” said Archie; “I can’t give up in this way; neither do I believe that any fox that ever lived can fool Sport. Hunt ’em up! hunt ’em up!” he continued, waving his hand to the dog, which was running about, tearing the bushes with his teeth, and whining, as if he, too, felt the disgrace of being so easily defeated. The obedient animal sprang upon the trail and followed it to its termination, and then commenced circling around through the bushes again; and Archie walked across the stream and examined the banks for the twentieth time, but no signs of a trail could be found.

At length, Harry suddenly exclaimed:

“Look here, Archie; here’s where the rascal went to;” and he pointed to a small tree that had been partially uprooted by the wind, and leaned over until its top reached within ten feet of the ground.

“You see,” Harry went on to say, “that the tops of all the other trees are almost loaded down with snow, but this one hasn’t got a bit on it. The fox must have shaken it off when he jumped up there.”

Archie, who was ready to catch at any thing that looked like encouragement, hurriedly recrossed the stream, and, after examining the top of the tree, climbed up on it, when he discovered the tracks of the fox in the snow that had fallen on the trunk. He descended to the ground, and the boys ran along up the stream, carefully examining every log and stick that was large enough for a fox to walk upon, and finally, to their joy, discovered the trail, which ran back toward the gully from which it had started.

The dogs immediately set off upon it, and the boys, who had learned considerable of the “lay of the land,” struck off through the woods, in an almost contrary direction to the one the dogs were pursuing, toward a ridge that lay about three miles distant.

Archie led the way at a rapid pace, now and then looking over his shoulder, and exclaiming, “Hurry up, Harry.” Half an hour’s run brought them to the ridge, and their feelings were worked up to the highest pitch of excitement, when they discovered that the fox had not yet passed.

“We’re all right now,” said Archie, joyfully; “that black fox is ours.”

“Yes,” said Harry, “provided this is his runway.”

“O, don’t begin to throw cold water on our expectations,” said Archie. “It’ll be too bad if – . There they come, now; get out of sight, quick.”

As Archie spoke, a long, drawn-out bay came faintly to their ears, and the dogs appeared to be coming up the ridge. The young hunters hastily concealed themselves, and Archie had just cocked his gun, when the black fox broke from the bushes, and, as if suspicious of danger ahead, turned off down the ridge. It was a long shot, but Archie, without a moment’s hesitation, raised his gun to his shoulder and fired.

“I told you he was ours,” he shouted, as the smoke cleared away, and the black fox was seen struggling in the snow. A blow on the head with a stick stilled him, and the boys, after examining their prize, which was the finest of his species they had ever seen, started down the ridge to meet the dogs, and soon arrived at the cabin with their prize, and were delighted to find how successful their comrades had been in capturing the moose.

Frank and Archie immediately set to work to break the young moose to harness. He proved very tractable, and soon learned to draw the boys in a sled, over the ice, with all the regularity of a well-broken horse, more than compensating them for all the care they had bestowed upon him.