In Paths of Peril: A Boy's Adventures in Nova Scotia

CHAPTER V
THE MOOSE HUNT

For several days the storm continued, and during that time no member of the party dared to leave camp, except to gather wood for the fire, which by great exertion and care was kept burning.

It was a miserable time for all. La Tour fumed and fretted at the delay, and the other whites shared his feelings, although the Indians seemed stolidly content with the forced inaction.

Temporary tents had been hastily made out of spruce boughs, and these being covered thickly with snow, afforded passable protection; yet they were poor places in which to spend a long day, and their occupants soon grew utterly weary of them.

Raoul was hard put to it to while away the dreary hours. His uncle was in too ill a humour to be pleasant company, and so the boy fell back upon the society of the men, who were inclined to be rough in their ways and coarse in speech.

On the evening of the third day of the storm La Tour called Raoul to him, and said in a sneering tone:

"How much good can your prayers do, think you? If you were to pray for the storm to stop, would it have any effect? You certainly couldn't wish a better chance to show what you can do."

Raoul was sorely puzzled to reply. He suspected that his uncle was only seeking to make fun of him, and yet it did not seem right to respond in the same spirit, thus making a jest of what was so sacred.

Looking very confused, he kept silence, until La Tour exclaimed impatiently:

"Have you lost your tongue? Why don't you answer me?"

"Because I don't know what to say," murmured Raoul. "Aunt Constance told me that we must not expect every prayer to be answered right away, and maybe even if she were to pray for the storm to stop it would not do it."

At this point La Tour's better nature asserted itself. He began to feel ashamed at thus teasing the boy, and to be impressed by his evident sincerity, so patting him affectionately upon the shoulder, he said:

"Don't mind my foolish words, Raoul. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, or to weaken your faith. Keep on doing what you feel to be right, even if you are made fun of by those who ought to know better."

Raoul was deeply touched by these words, and thenceforward admired his uncle more than ever.

Ere he closed his eyes that night he did pray fervently for the storm to abate, and then curled up in his blankets to sleep as soundly as if in his own snug bed in Fort St. Louis.

He was awakened next morning by his uncle giving orders to the men in so cheery a tone that it was evident there had been a great change in his spirits; and, in making his way out of the half-buried tent, Raoul at once understood the reason, for the storm was all over, and the sun shone dazzlingly upon a world of spotless white.

"Good!" cried Raoul joyously. "Now we needn't stay here any longer. I am so glad," and he felt like dancing a little by way of expressing his feelings.

In his delight at the return of fine weather he might have forgotten to be thankful for the answer to his prayer, had not Monsieur La Tour reminded him by calling out:

"Good-morning, Raoul. You see the snow has ceased, and perhaps it was your prayers that caused it to stop."

Raoul laughed, and shook his head in disclaimer of such being the case.

"And now, uncle, we can be off again, can't we?" he responded. "I hope we won't have any more such storms."

In their journey across country they presently came to the region where huge moose, the grandest of all antlered animals, were to be found, and La Tour, as their supply of food was running low, decided to halt for a few days, in order that they might have a moose hunt.

This was good news to the whole party, and there was keen competition among the members to be allowed to take part in the hunt, La Tour's purpose being to have one-half of the men accompany him, while the rest remained at the camp.

Raoul took it for granted that he was to go, and was quite dismayed when his uncle let fall a remark which implied that he was to stay behind.

"Why, uncle," he exclaimed, "am I not to go with you?"

"Well, I hadn't thought about it, Raoul," was the reply. "Won't it be rather hard work for you to keep up with us? And then there may be some danger, you know."

"Oh, but I don't mind either the hard work or the danger," Raoul promptly responded. "Please let me go too, uncle, I want to so much."

"Very well then," replied La Tour, good-naturedly. "You can come along, but you'll have to look after yourself, for I'm going to give my whole attention to the moose."

Mounted upon broad snow-shoes, which enabled them to travel with ease and speed over the deepest snow, the hunting-party set forth amid the cheers of those who regretfully remained behind. They were all in high spirits, and the men made little boasts among themselves as to which of them would be the first to sight a moose, and to get the first shot at one.

"This heavy fall of snow will make things easier for us," Monsieur La Tour said to Raoul, as they tramped along together. "The big fellows will not be able to run very fast through such deep drifts."

It was not until mid-day drew near that signs of moose were seen, and then one of the keen-sighted Indians, who was in the van, came hurrying back to announce that he had found fresh tracks in the snow.

After examining them La Tour consulted for a moment with his companions, and then laid out his plan of campaign, which was that the party should spread out in a wide line, so as to cover as much ground as possible, and yet keep within hearing of signals, so as to be able to gather together again at the proper time.

"As for you, Raoul, you had better follow me," he said. "You'll not miss any of the excitement, and you'll be less likely to get astray."

This suited Raoul perfectly, and having seen to it that his gun was ready for instant action he followed his uncle's lead, although it was no easy matter to keep pace with his rapid stride.

On they went through the forest, with every sense alert to detect the proximity of their prey.

Presently La Tour stopped short, and bent his gaze intently to the right. Raoul looked in the same direction, but at first could not make out anything, yet from his uncle's action, it was plain that he must have sighted a moose, for he began to creep forward stealthily, with his gun held in readiness to fire.

Raoul, holding his breath, kept close behind, and at last his eyes fell upon a dark form scarcely distinguishable from the thick evergreen against which it stood.

"There he is! I see him!" he whispered to himself, while his heart throbbed wildly.

Just then La Tour levelled his gun, and the silence was shattered by its startling report.

A moment later the evergreens were violently agitated, and out of them rushed a huge bull moose, made furious by the wound, which at once charged fiercely down upon the hunters.

CHAPTER VI
IN THE NICK OF TIME

As it happened, the snow did not lie very heavily at this particular place, and the great creature was able to move with tremendous speed.

"Look out, Raoul!" shouted La Tour, as he darted aside to evade the moose's onset. "Get behind a tree, and then fire at him."

This was precisely what Raoul had in mind to do, and he made a gallant effort to accomplish it, but unfortunately in his haste he caught his snow-shoes together, and over he went headlong into the snow with such violence as to nearly bury himself.

Confused by the fall, and blinded by the snow, he lay there helplessly, while the bull moose, infuriated by its wound, and seeing only the prostrate boy to account for it, bore down upon him with murderous intent.

He fully realized his danger, and yet felt powerless to avert it, for to regain one's feet after a tumble with snow-shoes on is no easy matter.

In the meantime La Tour had rushed out from behind the tree, and by waving his arms and shouting, strove to attract the attention of the animal to himself until Raoul should have time to get upon his feet again, and find a place of safety.

But the moose was not to be thus diverted from its victim, and kept on until it was within ten yards of Raoul, whose fate now seemed to be sealed.

La Tour, quite forgetting himself in his anxiety for the boy, made a desperate effort to get in between him and the animal, and groaned aloud as he saw that it could not avail.

Then, suddenly, Raoul raised himself upon his knees, and pointing his gun at the moose's head, pulled the trigger.

At the report the big brute pitched forward upon its antlers, almost turning a somersault, and La Tour with an exclamation of joy ran to Raoul, and lifting him up clasped him to his breast, crying:

"Bravo! my nephew, bravo! That was a splendid shot. I never thought you could do it."

But hardly had the words left his lips than his exultation changed to alarm, for the moose, which had been only stunned by the bullet, and not mortally wounded, rose to its feet again to renew the charge.

Happily the shock of the bullet had bewildered it so that it went off at a tangent, and ere it could recover itself La Tour had hurried Raoul to safe shelter behind a mighty tree.

Hastily reloading his gun, an action which Raoul lost no time in imitating, La Tour watched his chance to give the great animal a final shot.

After plunging about for a little it once more located its assailants, and, looking very terrible in its rage, made another furious rush at them.

This they both evaded without difficulty, and then La Tour got the opportunity he sought, and sent a bullet into the heart of the mighty creature, which brought its career to a sudden end.

"Phew!" he exclaimed in a tone of profound relief, as he took off his fur cap and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "That was lively work, wasn't it, Raoul? What a grand fight the old fellow did make! He pretty nearly had you under his hoofs. You managed to fire in the nick of time. That was a clever shot, my boy, and I am proud of you for it."

Raoul flushed with pleasure at his uncle's praise, which he appreciated all the more because La Tour was far more prone to find fault than to express approval.

"I thought it was all over with me, Uncle Charles," he said, "for the snow had got into my eyes so that I could not see properly, but I did the best I could."

"And a very good best it was, my boy. No man could have done better. You'll make a fine hunter when you're full grown. Ah, ha! here come some of the men. I wonder what fortune they have had."

Attracted by the sound of the firing, the rest of the hunting party had hurried to the scene, and La Tour was in his element as he proudly displayed the fallen monarch.

"Raoul and I are partners in him," he said laughingly. "Raoul hit him in the head, and I hit him in the heart, but he came within an ace of finishing Raoul first." And he then proceeded to relate what had happened.

Raoul was warmly congratulated upon his lucky escape, and upon the excellence of his marksmanship, and everybody rejoiced over the splendid prize which had been secured, for the moose was in superb condition, and would supply them with savoury steaks and roasts for many days.

After what had occurred at the moose hunt, it was evident that his uncle regarded Raoul in a different light. He dropped his bantering tone toward him, and treated him more on an equal footing, and Raoul fully appreciated the change.

During the remainder of their trip they were favoured with such good fortune – the game proving plentiful all along the route, and the Indians whose villages they visited being so well supplied with furs and so eager to trade – that La Tour, in high good humour, told Raoul he brought him good luck, and must accompany him again.

The whole party got back to Fort St. Louis without a mishap, and then everybody settled down for the winter, as there were to be no more trading expeditions.

But Madame La Tour did not suspend her missionary work because it was winter time. As soon as her husband had returned and relieved her of the charge of the fort, she resumed her visits to the Indian encampments. This was the best season for what she sought to accomplish, because the men were about the wigwams most of the time, and she could get a hearing from them as well as from the women and children.

Raoul usually went with her. He liked the idea of being in some sense her protector, and she was always such good company that the hours never seemed long that were spent in her society.

He always carried his gun, not that there was anything to fear from the Indians. They were altogether to be trusted. But some wild animal might be encountered that would venture to attack, or that might be worth having a shot at, any way.

Right glad he was that he did have his gun one afternoon when he and his aunt were returning from a day spent at the Souriquois village, where the good woman had been teaching the squaws, not only how to be Christians, but also how to be better wives and mothers.

They were walking rapidly, and talking busily, when a horrible scream that sent a chill of terror to their hearts, and caused them to stop suddenly in the path, issued from the thick woods in front of them.

A stranger would have been at a loss to guess what sort of creature could produce so frightful a sound, but Madame La Tour recognized it at once, and she perceptibly shrank closer to Raoul as she said in a startled voice:

"It is a loup cervier, Raoul, and right in our way!"