The Wilderness Castaways

Paul, a loaded rifle in his hands for the first time, took aim, and pulled the trigger. The shot went wild.

“You closed your eyes at the last moment, and wobbled the gun,” said Remington.

“Guess I did,” admitted Paul. “I was afraid to be so near the explosion.”

“Well, throw in another cartridge. That’s right. Throw the lever forward; now back. Be careful! It leaves it cocked, you see. Always remember, when you’re not going to shoot again immediately, to put the hammer down, and never carry a cocked gun. That’s a bad habit some sportsmen have, but a man that isn’t quick enough to cock his gun after he sees his game should practice until he can do it, and never go out with his gun until he can. With a rifle it’s never well to carry a cartridge in the chamber. You can throw one in as quickly as you need it. Now try again.”

Bang! The shot struck just beneath the bit of ice.

“Bully! Bully!” exclaimed Remington and Ainsworth together.

Paul flushed with pleasure and excitement. With the next shot he took more careful aim, and simultaneously with the crack of the rifle bits of splintered ice flew from the floating cake. This was indeed a good shot, for by this time the vessel had left the ice well behind.

“How was that?” asked Paul, with conscious pride.

“Good work!” Remington encouraged.

Several more practice shots were fired with varying success, the rifle cleaned, and Remington and Ainsworth went below to overhaul their fishing outfit.

Paul, with just pride in his initial achievement with the rifle, strolled forward to exhibit his gun to Dan, who was splicing a rope near the foremast, and had been an interested spectator of the target practice.

“Hello, Dan,” he greeted.

“Hello, Paul. Been ailin’?”

“Ailing! I was awfully sick for two days.”

“We were havin’ a bit of nasty sea. ’Tis bad for the seasickness.”

“You bet it got me, all right. Would you like to see my rifle?”

“Yes, I were wantin’ t’ see un.” Dan took the rifle, looked it over, threw it up to his shoulder and sighted it, like one accustomed to the use of firearms.

“She’s a wonderful fine gun!” he exclaimed. “A rare fine gun! An’ she’s pretty, too. I never seen such a fine gun—and such a pretty un.”

“Can you shoot?”

“I does some shootin’. I hunts with Dad in winter. He traps furs in winter, and he’s took me with him two winters.”

“Did you ever shoot anything?”

“Oh, yes; lots of partridges and rabbits. Last fall I kills a deer and gets a crack at a bear, but misses; and last winter I shoots two foxes.”

“You must be a dandy hunter. I’ve never hunted any yet, but I expect to. Never went before where there was anything to hunt. This is my first gun. I’ve got a shotgun too.”

“That’s the gun for partridges, unless you shoots their heads off with the rifle. Mostly I shoots their heads off with a rifle, but sometimes I misses. Mine’s a 44—Dad’s old one. He got a new 30-30 and gave me his old one.”

“I’d like to see it. You got it with you?”

“Yes, it’s down in the fo’c’sl.”

“Here! Bring your gun, youngster! Bring your gun! Here’s a shot for you!” called Captain Bluntt. “Here now!”

Paul ran forward.

“Where? What is it?” he asked excitedly.

“There, on that pan! That yellow spot. See un? See un? That’s a water bear, and he’s asleep. Get ready now and shoot un!”

Paul’s excitement was intense. He nervously slipped some cartridges in the magazine and raised the rifle to his shoulder.

“Set up your sights, lad! Set up your sights! And cock your piece! Cock your piece! You can’t shoot till she’s cocked. Dan, look sharp now, an’ tell the gentlemen there’s a bear sighted! Now, youngster! Now! Don’t hurry. Take your time. Why you’re shakin’! Steady down! Steady down! That’s right. Careful!”

With tremendous effort Paul steadied his nerves, and bang! The yellow spot rose. Sure enough, it was a bear, and it began to bite at its side.

“You hit un! You hit un, lad! Fine! Fine! Give un another!”

Paul fired again, but his nerves had got the better of him, and the shot went wide, as did several other shots. Captain Bluntt rang the engines to “stop,” as Remington and Ainsworth, rifles in hand, reached the deck. The bear had slipped off the ice pan and taken to the water; at which Remington called—

“Launch the power boat!”

In a jiffy Captain Bluntt had men at the ropes.

“Come, Paul, we’re going after him,” said Remington.

“Take the tiller, Dan! Take the tiller of that boat!” commanded the Captain.

In less time than it requires to relate, the boat was off and in pursuit, Dan steering with skill, Remington, Ainsworth, and Paul ready with their rifles.

CHAPTER III

A HUSKY CAMP

THE boat gained upon the bear rapidly, and had nearly overtaken it when suddenly it turned to the left, interposing a small pan of ice between it and its pursuers, effectually hiding it from their view.

Dan made a short cut around the opposite side of the pan, and as the boat shot out behind the ice its bow nearly struck the bear. The pursuers were no less surprised than the pursued, and as the boat darted past, the bear made a vicious lunge with its powerful paw, caught it amidships and nearly capsized it.

Dan made a graceful swing, and brought the hunters almost too close to the animal to permit the use of guns. It charged them again, but Dan, on the lookout for this maneuver, neatly avoided it.

“Now, Paul,” advised Remington, “shoot!”

The bear was less than twenty feet from the boat, but Paul was still in so high a state of excitement that he missed two shots, and it was only at the third attempt that he struck the animal in the head, and it collapsed.

“It’s a stunning big fellow!” Remington declared, while he slipped a rope over the animal’s neck to tow it to the ship.

“That was a splendid shot from the ship—I doubt if I could have made it,” said Ainsworth. “And you’ve got the first game of the trip, Paul.”

“’Twere a rare fine shot,” put in Dan. “I were standin’ by, an’ I’ve missed many a better.”