Chapter 7 - The Grand Bear Hunt by Mayne Reid
Jack-in-the-Box
It was early in the morning, shortly after leaving the tent of the Laplander, they had chanced upon the track of the bear.
After following it for nearly a mile, it conducted them to a narrow gorge or ravine, lying between two rocky ridges. The ravine itself was not more than ten or a dozen yards in width, and its bottom was filled with snow to the depth of several feet. Along the sides the snow lay sparsely; and in fact there had been scarce any in that place before the fall the preceding night. This had only covered the ground to the depth of a few inches: but it was sufficient to show the footmarks of the bear; and they were able to follow the spar—so the Scandinavian hunters call the tracks of an animal—as fast as they chose to go.
Following it up, then, our hunters entered the ravine. They kept for some distance along one side—just by the edge of the deep snow; but at length, the track indicated where the bear had crossed to the other side; and of course they were compelled to cross likewise.
This deep snow was the accumulated deposits of different storms that had occurred during the winter; and, shadowed from the sun by the long branches of evergreen pines from both sides stretching outward over the ravine, it had remained without melting. There was a crust over it—strong enough to carry a man on skidors, but not without them, unless he proceeded with care and caution. The bear had gone over it; but these animals, notwithstanding their enormous weight and bulk, can pass over ice or crusted snow that will not carry a man. Their weight rests upon four points instead of two; and as they need only lift one foot at a time, they still have three points of support. A man must also lift one foot, which leaves him only one to stand upon; and therefore his whole weight presses upon a single point, and so endangers his breaking through. The great length of a bear’s body, moreover, and the vast stretch between his fore and hind legs give him an additional advantage—enabling him to distribute his weight over a large surface—and this is why he can shuffle over ice or snow-crust, that may be too weak to carry a human being. Every boy knows—at least every boy who has skated or ventured upon a frozen pond—that by creeping on hands and knees, or, more certain still, by sprawling along on the breast, ice may be passed over, that would not bear the same boy in an erect attitude.
Such advantage, then, had the bear which our young hunters were tracking up; and it would have been well for them—at least for Pouchskin—had they thought of it. They did not. They supposed that where a great heavy animal like a bear had gone they might go too; and, without further reflection, they stepped out upon the deep bed of snow.
Alexis and Ivan being light weights passed over the snow safely enough; but Pouchskin, weighing nearly as much as both of them—and further loaded with a ponderous wood-axe and his huge gun, to say nothing of sundry well-filled pockets and pouches—was more than the crust would carry. Just when he had got about halfway across, there was heard a tearing crash; and before the boys could turn to inquire the cause, Pouchskin had disappeared, and all his paraphernalia along with him!
No, not quite all. There was seen about two feet of the barrel of his gun above the surface; and as that still pointed upward—while it moved around the circular hole through which the old guardsman had fallen—the boys concluded that the piece was in his hands, and that Pouchskin was still upon his feet.
At the same instant a voice reached their ears—in a hollow sepulchral tone, like that of a man speaking from the bottom of a well, or through the bung-hole of an empty cask!
Notwithstanding its baritone notes, the boys perceived that the exclamations made by the voice were not those of terror, but rather of surprise, followed by a slight laugh. Of course, therefore, their attendant had received no injury, nor was he in any danger; and, assured of this, Ivan first, and then Alexis, broke out into yells of laughter.
On cautiously approaching the trap-like hole, through which Pouchskin had disappeared, their merriment burst forth afresh, at the ludicrous spectacle. There stood the old guardsman, like a jack-in-the-box in the centre of a hollow funnel-shaped cylinder which he had made in the snow. But what was strangest of all, there was no snow among his feet: on the contrary, he was up to his knees in water, and not stagnant water either, but a current, that ran rapidly underneath the snow, and had swished the crusted fragments from the spot where he was standing!
A stream, in fact, ran down the ravine; and, although the snow completely hid it from view, there it was, rushing along underneath through a tunnel which it had melted out for itself—the snow forming a continuous bridge above it.
The boys did not know all this—for they could only just see the top of Pouchskin’s head, with his long arms holding the gun—but they could hear the rushing noise of the water, and Pouchskin reported the rest.
It did not appear so easy to extricate him from his unpleasant predicament; for the resemblance between his situation, and that of jack-in-the-box, went no further. There was no jerking machinery by which the ex-guardsman could be jumped out of his box; and, since his head was full three feet below the crust of the snow, how he was to be raised to the surface required some consideration.
Neither of the young hunters dared to approach the circumference of the circular hole through which Pouchskin had sunk. They might have broken through themselves, and then all three would have been in the same fix. Of course, under this apprehension, they dared not go near enough to pull him out with their hands—even had they been able to reach down to him.
It is true he might have got out, after some time, by breaking the snow before him, and working his way at right angles to the course of the stream: for it was evident that the ground sloped sharply up in that direction, and the snow became shallower. Except above the water, it was firm enough to have borne his weight, and after a time he might have scrambled out; but a more expeditious plan of relieving him, and one far less troublesome to Pouchskin, suggested itself to Alexis.
One of the impedimenta, which the old guardsman carried on his shoulders, was a coil of stout cord—almost a rope. This they had brought with them, in the anticipation of being successful in their hunt; and, with the idea of its being required at the skinning of the bear—as also for packing the hide, or any similar purpose.
It was the presence of this cord that suggested to Alexis the scheme he had conceived, for relieving his faithful follower from his unhappy position; and the plan itself will be understood by our describing its execution, which took place on the instant.
Alexis called to Pouchskin to tie one end of the rope round his body, and then fling the other out upon the snow—as far as he could cast it. This request was instantly complied with; and the end of the rope made its appearance at the feet of Alexis.
The latter taking it in his hand, ran up the bank to the nearest tree; and, giving it a turn or two round the trunk, he handed it to Ivan, with the direction to hold it fast and keep it from slipping. A knot would have served the same purpose; but the whole thing was the work of only a few moments; and as Ivan was standing by doing nothing, his brother thought he might just as well take hold of the rope and save time.
Alexis now crept back, as near to the edge of the trap as it was safe to go. He took with him a long pole, which by a lucky chance, he had found lying under the trees. Slipping this under the rope, and placing it crosswise, he shoved it still nearer to the circumference of the broken circle—his object being to give support to the cord, and keep it from cutting into the snow.
The contrivance was perfectly correct; and as soon as Alexis had got all ready, he shouted to Pouchskin to haul upon the rope, and help himself.
Meanwhile, the old guardsman had slung his fusil upon his back; and, immediately on receiving the signal, commenced his ascent—pulling hand over hand upon the rope, and assisting his arms by working his feet against the wall of snow.
The moment his head appeared above the surface, the laughter of his young masters, that had been for a while suspended, burst forth afresh. And it was no wonder: for the expression upon the old soldier’s visage, as it rose above the white crust, his bent attitude, and the desperate exertions he was making to clamber upward, all combined to form a most ludicrous picture.
Ivan screamed till the tears ran down his cheeks. So overcome was he with mirth, that it is possible he would have let go, and permitted Pouchskin to tumble back into his trap; but the more sober Alexis, foreseeing such a contingency, ran up and took hold of the rope.
By this means, Pouchskin was at length landed safely on the surface of the snow; but even his tall boots of Russia leather had not saved his legs and feet from getting well soaked; and he was now dripping with muddy water from the thighs downwards.
There was no time, however, to kindle a fire and dry him. They did not think of such a thing. So eager were all three in the chase of the bear, that they only waited to coil up the cord, and then continued onward.