The Best Ballantyne Westerns. R. M. Ballantyne
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Название: The Best Ballantyne Westerns
Автор: R. M. Ballantyne
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066385699
isbn:
“Ah! I knowed it,” said Dick, pushing forward. “Come on, pup, you’ll have to follow now. Any way we must go on.”
The snow that had fallen was not deep enough to offer the slightest obstruction to their advance. It was, indeed, only one of those occasional showers common to that part of the country in the late autumn, which season had now crept upon Dick almost before he was aware of it, and he fully expected that it would melt away in a few days. In this hope he kept steadily advancing, until he found himself in the midst of those rocky fastnesses which divide the waters that flow into the Atlantic from those that flow into the Pacific Ocean. Still the slight crust of snow lay on the ground, and he had no means of knowing whether he was going in the right direction or not.
Game was abundant, and there was no lack of wood now, so that his night bivouac was not so cold or dreary as might have been expected.
Travelling, however, had become difficult, and even dangerous, owing to the rugged nature of the ground over which he proceeded. The scenery had completely changed in its character. Dick no longer coursed over the free, open plains, but he passed through beautiful valleys filled with luxuriant trees, and hemmed in by stupendous mountains, whose rugged sides rose upward until the snow-clad peaks pierced the clouds.
There was something awful in these dark solitudes, quite overwhelming to a youth of Dick’s temperament; his heart began to sink lower and lower every day, and the utter impossibility of making up his mind what to do became at length agonising. To have turned and gone back the hundreds of miles over which he had travelled would have caused him some anxiety under any circumstances, but to do so while Joe and Henri were either wandering about there or in the power of the savages, was, he felt, out of the question. Yet, in which way should he go? Whatever course he took might lead him further and further away from them.
In this dilemma he came to the determination of remaining where he was, at least until the snow should leave the ground.
He felt great relief even when this hopeless course was decided upon, and set about making himself an encampment with some degree of cheerfulness. When he had completed this task, he took his rifle, and leaving Charlie picketted in the centre of a dell, where the long, rich grass rose high above the snow, went off to hunt.
On turning a rocky point his heart suddenly bounded into his throat, for there, not thirty yards distant, stood a huge grizzly bear!
Yes, there he was at last, the monster to meet which the young hunter had so often longed,—the terrible size and fierceness of which he had heard so often spoken about by the old hunters. There it stood at last; but little did Dick Varley think that the first time he should meet with his foe should be when alone in the dark recesses of the Rocky Mountains, and with none to succour him in the event of the battle going against him. Yes! there was one. The faithful Crusoe stood by his side, with his hair bristling, all his formidable teeth exposed, and his eyes glaring in their sockets. Alas! for poor Crusoe, had he gone into that combat alone. One stroke of that monster’s paw would have hurled him dead upon the ground.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
Dick’s first fight with a grizzly—Adventure with a deer—A surprise.
There is no animal in all the land so terrible and dangerous as the grizzly bear. Not only is he the largest of the species in America, but he is the fiercest, the strongest, and the most tenacious of life, facts which are so well understood that few of the western hunters like to meet him single-handed, unless they happen to be first-rate shots; and the Indians deem the encounter so dangerous, that to wear a collar composed of the claws of a grizzly bear of his own killing, is counted one of the highest honours to which a young warrior can attain.
The grizzly bear resembles the brown bear of Europe, but it is larger, and the hair is long, the points being of a paler shade. About the head there is a considerable mixture of grey hair, giving it the “grizzly” appearance, from which it derives its name. The claws are dirty white, arched, and very long, and so strong that when the animal strikes with its paw they cut like a chisel. These claws are not embedded in the paw, as is the case with the cat, but always project far beyond the hair, thus giving to the foot a very ungainly appearance; they are not sufficiently curved to enable the grizzly bear to climb trees, like the black and brown bears, and this inability on their part is often the only hope of the pursued hunter, who, if he succeeds in ascending a tree, is safe, for the time at least, from the bear’s assaults; but “Caleb” is a patient creature, and will often wait at the foot of the tree for many hours for his victim.
The average length of his body is about nine feet, but he sometimes attains to a still larger growth. Caleb is more carnivorous in his habits than other bears; but, like them, he does not object to indulge occasionally in vegetable diet, being partial to the bird-cherry, the choke-berry, and various shrubs. He has a sweet tooth, too, and revels in honey—when he can get it.
The instant the grizzly bear beheld Dick Varley standing in his path, he rose on his hind-legs, and made a loud hissing noise, like a man breathing quick, but much harsher. To this Crusoe replied by a deep growl, and showing the utmost extent of his teeth, gums and all; and Dick cocked both barrels of his rifle.
To say that Dick Varley felt no fear would be simply to make him out that sort of hero which does not exist in nature, namely a perfect hero. He did feel a sensation as if his bowels had suddenly melted into water! Let not our reader think the worse of Dick for this. There is not a man living who, having met with a huge grizzly bear for the first time in his life, in a wild, solitary place, all alone, has not experienced some such sensation. There was no cowardice in this feeling. Fear is not cowardice. Acting in a wrong and contemptible manner because of our fear, is cowardice.
It is said that Wellington or Napoleon, we forget which, once stood watching the muster of the men who were to form the forlorn hope in storming a citadel. There were many brave, strong, stalwart men there, in the prime of life, and flushed with the blood of high health and courage. There were also there a few stern-browed men of riper years, who stood perfectly silent, with lips compressed, and as pale as death. “Yonder veterans,” said the general, pointing to these soldiers, “are men whose courage I can depend on; they know what they are going to, the others don’t!” Yes, these young soldiers very probably were brave; the others certainly were.
Dick Varley stood for a few seconds as if thunderstruck, while the bear stood hissing at him. Then the liquefaction of his interior ceased, and he felt a glow of fire gush through his veins. Now, Dick knew well enough that to fly from a grizzly bear was the sure and certain way of being torn to pieces, as when taken thus by surprise they almost invariably follow a retreating enemy. He also knew that if he stood where he was, perfectly still, the bear would, get uncomfortable under his stare, and would retreat from him. But he neither intended to run away himself nor to allow the bear to do so; he intended to kill it, so he raised his rifle quickly, “drew a bead,” as the hunters express it, on the bear’s heart, and fired.
It immediately dropped on its fore-legs and rushed at him.
“Back, Crusoe, out of the way, pup,” shouted Dick, as his favourite was about to spring forward.
The dog retired, and Dick leaped behind a tree. As the bear passed he gave it the contents of the second barrel behind the shoulder, which brought it down, but in another moment it rose and again rushed at him. Dick had no time to load, neither had he time to spring up the thick tree beside which he stood, and the rocky nature of the СКАЧАТЬ