Chapter 54 - The Grand Bear Hunt by Mayne Reid
A Sledge-Chase
I have said that our hunters were for some time irresolute about how to act. The Kurilski was inclined to withdraw from the spot and leave the bears alone; and this of course was his advice to the others. He said there might be danger in disturbing them—so many clustered together, and in such a mood as they appeared to be. He had known them to attack a large party of men under such circumstances, and give chase to them. They might do the same now?
Our hunters, however, did not give full credit to this story of their guide—thinking it might have its origin in the fears of the Kurilski, whom they knew to be of a timid race; and therefore they determined not to back out. The chance was too tempting to be surrendered for so slight a reason, and without a struggle. There were several bears within easy shot of the ground where they were kneeling!
It would never do to let such an opportunity pass. They might not meet with so good a chance again; or, at all events, they might be delayed a good long time before another would turn up; and a residence in Petropaulouski, even in the “isba” of the governor—who was himself only a sergeant of Cossacks, and his dwelling a mere hut—was not so pleasant as that they should wish to prolong it. They had now been a great while journeying through countries covered with frost and snow; and they were longing to reach those tropical isles—famed for their spices and their loveliness—which were to be the next stage in their grand tour round the globe.
Influenced by these thoughts, then, they resolved to run all hazard, and try a shot at the bears.
The Kurilski, seeing them determined, gave in; and, joining his gun to theirs, a volley of four shots was simultaneously discharged through the bushes.
Two bears were seen to drop over and lie kicking upon the snow; but whether they continued their kicking for any considerable length of time, was a question about which our hunters could give no definite information. They did not stay to see: for the moment the smoke had cleared off, they saw the whole gang of bears in motion, and rushing towards them from all sides of the lake. The shrill fierce screaming of the animals, and the hurried pace in which they were making towards the ridge, declared their intentions. They were charging forward to the attack.
The hunters saw this at a glance; and thought only of retreating. But whither could they fly? There were no trees; and if there had been, the bears could have climbed them even better than themselves. There were steep rocky cliffs on both sides of the ravine; but these would afford them no security—even had their ice-coated slope permitted of their being scaled. But it did not, and if it had, the bears could have scaled the rocks too!
Our Russian hunters were in a complete state of perplexity, and perhaps would not have known how to save themselves, had it not been for their Kurilski comrade. He, however, had conceived an idea—or, rather, had drawn it from old experience; and just at this moment he rushed down the slope, as he did so calling to the others to take to their sledges, and warning them that it was their only chance of escape.
Of course none of them thought of disputing his advice, or even calling it in question; but one and all of them yielded obedience on the instant. Without saying a word, each rushed to his sledge, leaped upon the runners, seated himself in double quick time upon the little crescent-like cradle, seized the “ribbons,” and straightened his team to the road.
Had the dogs not been well-trained, and their drivers equally well used to the management of a sledge, their peril would have been extreme. As it was—though all came into their places in good style, and without confusion—they had not a second to spare. The bears were already galloping down the slope; and as the last sledge—which was Pouchskin’s—moved off from the bottom of the ridge, the foremost of the roaring pursuers had got within less than six yards of it!
It was now a trial of speed between bears and sledge-dogs—for the latter knew that they were in as much danger as their masters; and needed neither the exclamation Ah! nor the oschtol to urge them forward. On swept they over the frozen crust, as fast as they could go—handling their limbs and claws with the nimbleness peculiar to their race.
The bears followed in a sort of lumbering gallop; yet, notwithstanding their uncouth movements, they kept for a long time close in the rear of the fugitives.
Fortunately they did not possess the speed of the canine race; and at length—seeing that they were being distanced—one after another gave up the chase, and commenced returning towards the lake, slowly, and with apparent reluctance.
Just at this crisis an accident occurred to Pouchskin—or rather Pouchskin committed a mistake—which, had it been made five minutes sooner, would most assuredly have cost him his life. The mistake which Pouchskin made, was to drop the iron end of his “oschtol” on the snowy crust between his sledge and the two dogs nearest to it—the “wheelers” as we may call them. The effect of this, with Kamschatkan sledge-dogs, is to cause the whole team to halt; and so acted the dogs that Pouchskin was driving—all five suddenly coming to a dead stop! Pouchskin endeavoured to urge them forward—crying out the usual signal, Ha; but, in his anxious eagerness, Pouchskin placed the accent after the vowel, instead of before it; and instead of Ha! his exclamation sounded Ah! The latter being the command for the dogs to halt, of course only kept them steady in their places; and they stood without offering to move a leg. By good fortune, the bears had already given up the pursuit, and were not witnesses of this interruption: otherwise it would have gone ill with the ex-grenadier.
In due time the dogs were once more started; and Pouchskin—putting them to their highest rate of speed—soon overtook the sledge-train; which did not come to a halt until a good mile of snow-covered country was between it and the bears.
The hunters only paused then, for a short while, to breathe their panting dogs; and this done, they resumed their seats on the sledges, and continued on to the ostrog—without a thought of going back after the bears.
They had no intention, however, of giving them up entirely. They only drove home to the village—in order to get assistance; and, as soon as their report was delivered, all the men of the settlement—Cossacks, Kurilskis, and half-breeds—turned out armed to the teeth for a grand battue, and proceeded towards the lake with the Governor himself at their head.
The bears were still upon the ground—both the living and the dead—for it was now seen that two of their number had fallen to the shots of our hunters—and upon the former a general fusillade was at once opened, which ended in their complete discomfiture. Five more of them were killed upon the spot; and several others that took to flight were tracked through the snow, and destroyed in their hiding-places. For a week after, there was very little fish eaten in the ostrog of Petropaulouski—which for a long period previous to that time had not witnessed such a carnival.
Of course our Russian hunters came in for their share of the trophies; and, choosing the skin of one of the bears they had themselves shot, they left it with the Governor, to be forwarded via Okhotsk and Yakoutsk, to the distant capital of Saint Petersburg. Shortly after the fur ship carried them to Canton,—whence they might expect to find a passage in a Chinese trading vessel to the grand island of Borneo.