CHAPTER XXIX

THE HUNTERS' FEAST

"HEAD him off!" Roger called from the rear, while he made all haste to come up, even though he had an empty and useless gun, and could not be of any assistance to his comrades.

The others had gauged the situation, and realized that their best move was to follow directly after the animal, thus causing him to push deeper into the trap. The heavy fall of snow, that they had grumbled at so many times when struggling along knee-deep, now promised to be their best ally.

In this fashion they presently found themselves close upon the struggling bull. Floundering there he could not make much headway, and at last in desperation the animal started to turn upon his pursuers.

They knew well what the result might be if they allowed the charge to be carried out. One of them would be struck down by those wicked black horns that adorned the shaggy head; and, worst of all, the animal was likely to escape, since Roger could do little or nothing to stay his flight over the back trail.

It had been arranged that Mayhew was to take the first shot, and they hoped one would be sufficient, with the backing of knife and hatchet. The buffalo was just in the act of turning when the frontiersman fired, and in consequence Mayhew could hardly have asked for a better showing, since one flank was wholly exposed.

At the time the marksman could not have been more than fifteen feet away, and a miss was out of the question. Mayhew had hunted these huge bison on numerous occasions, since he was one of those upon whom the exploring party depended for a regular supply of fresh meat.

This being the case, he knew exactly where to place his bullet in order to get the best results. As a consequence no sooner had he discharged his gun, and drawn his hatchet in order to be prepared for the worst, than he saw the animal stagger and fall in his tracks.

A vital spot must have been reached by the missile that was driven by that heavy charge of powder; for the long-barreled guns of the pioneers were powerful in their execution.

When Roger saw the quarry struggling in the snow-drift his excitement became so great that he could not even shout, much as he felt like so doing. Hurrying toward the spot, he fastened his hungry eyes upon the animal whose efforts to rise were becoming more and more feeble.

Presently Mayhew, watching his chance, stepped briskly forward and with one well-aimed blow from the back of his hatchet finished the business.

"Hurrah!" gasped Roger, carried away by the importance of their well-earned victory.

No doubt delightful visions immediately began to flit through his brain, as in imagination he saw himself seated by a fire, and devouring ration upon ration of savory buffalo meat.

"Remember your part of the transaction, Roger!" warned Dick, as, knife in hand, he prepared to cut up the game.

"That means a fire!" answered the other, excitedly. "Hand me over the fine stuff you said you had packed up, Dick. Oh! you can depend on me to get things going in a hurry. There's a spot close by where I saw plenty of wood. The snow was blown away somehow or other. Give me a little time, and you will see smoke rising!"

Doubtless Roger had started scores, even hundreds, of fires in his time; but it is certain that he never entered into the task with a lighter heart than on this particular occasion. His very soul seemed to be singing with joy as he hastily gathered up some of the wood most easily obtained, and then, picking a good spot, proceeded to use flint and steel with hopes of speedy results.

Finding that his very eagerness was delaying him, Roger called a halt, took himself to task, and after that settled down grimly to accomplishing his part of the proceedings without a hitch.

In a short time smoke began to curl upwards from his small beginning. Blowing the feeble blaze he quickly had it taking hold in earnest. The crackle and snap of the burning wood was music to the ears of the almost delirious boy.

"The fire is ready, Dick!" he called out.

"Then come for some of the meat, and commence business," was the welcome answer.

As there was nothing that Mayhew could do to assist in carving the dead buffalo, he also was given various "hunks" of the meat, and presently the two sat there by the fire, attending to a dozen or more sticks, on the ends of which their long-delayed meal was being slowly browned.

Never in all his life had Roger felt so frantic upon smelling the odor of cooking meat. It would have been just the same had their fare consisted of venison, bear meat, or wild turkey; all he wanted was something to satisfy that terrible craving which was overpowering him.

It must be confessed that Roger, unable to stand the suspense and temptation longer, snatched the first piece from its stick before it was half-cooked, and commenced to devour it like a savage.

He seemed to enjoy it, too, which fact caused the guide to speedily follow his example and appropriate one of the sections for himself.

Dick, coming up just then with a further supply, first of all filled the empty sticks with fresh portions, and then--well, Dick was just as hungry as either of his comrades, and there was really no sense in waiting any longer, so he made it unanimous!

After they had taken the sharp edge off their ravenous hunger the pace was not quite so swift. They were willing to wait until the meat was fairly well cooked; and by degrees it was noticed that they even began to slacken in their attack.

At length Dick laughed as he remarked:

"I think I have reached my limit, and, as I hardly want to be called a glutton, I mean to quit."

"One more piece will satisfy me--for a while at least," Roger confessed.

The guide also admitted that he believed he could contain no more. Although possibly at another time Roger might have complained about the fresh meat being tough, no one heard him utter a single word against it on that occasion. It would be adding insult to injury to find fault with something that had really been the means of saving their lives.

"While we have this fire," suggested Dick, "it would be a good idea to cook some more of the meat. We may not be able to start another blaze later on; the danger of being discovered and attacked might be too great. What do you think about it, Mayhew?"

"It is a sensible idea, I must say," came the immediate reply.

As that settled it, Dick went over and proceeded to do some more work with his keen-edged blade. They meant to take considerable of the meat along with them at any rate; that much had been decided on long before. With but another shot left between starvation and themselves, they could not afford to be wasteful when good luck had thrown a chance like this in their way.

Roger was quite a different sort of fellow, now that he no longer experienced the tortures of an unappeased appetite. He could even look hopefully into the future, and see glorious opportunities for carrying out their plan of campaign. As Dick had truly said, what they had done once could be accomplished again. Favored by the protecting hand of Providence, they must surely be able to get the better of that cruel and scheming French trader.

The big lake where the river had its source could not be many miles away from where they now stood. They would push steadily on, and, upon striking its shores, ascertain where the Frenchmen had their camp.

"They must have a fire in such cold weather," Roger argued, and the others agreed with him, glad to find that he was looking at matters so cheerfully. "And fire makes some kind of smoke, so we ought to be able to tell where it is. Then, when the night comes, we can creep up and set Jasper free."

How simple the program seemed now! The rocks heretofore appearing almost unsurmountable diminished in size, and no longer stood as a barrier that could not be scaled. A full stomach nearly always makes one see things in a rosy light.

Finally it was decided they had cooked a sufficient supply of meat. The balance that they expected to carry with them was made up in small packages enclosed in portions of the buffalo hide and tied securely with thongs.

As they were burdened with little save their guns, now almost useless to them, these packages would not prove troublesome. Roger was willing to load himself down with twice the amount, and bravely stagger under it all, rather than risk the chance of suffering again the misery he had endured.

"You feel sure the lake lies to the east of us, Mayhew, do you not?" Roger asked the guide when they were ready to start, feeling ever so much stronger, and able to push through the drifts where they could not be skirted.

"Yes, everything points that way," he was assured by Mayhew. "From the way that Frenchman pointed when he was talking to you both, Dick figured that the lake was off in that direction. And then the crows fly that way in the morning, and return again in the evening. That is a pretty good sign, I take it."

Roger became interested at once. Here was something he had not thought of noticing, and consequently he wished for more information.

"Tell me why that should be so," he asked, as they started.

"These crows do not drift south in the winter time," explained the frontiersman. "They stay up here, and, as they must find feed when the earth is covered under many feet of snow, they have learned that along the shore of the big lake they can get what they need--dead fish and all sorts of other things cast up by the waves."

"But what if the lake freezes over, as it may do in very hard winters?" Roger questioned.

"Oh, they would still find things to eat on the ice," returned Mayhew. "Being an open stretch, the wind would keep the snow from settling there. But no matter, that is where they fly each morning; and you know what hunters say about a direct line being as 'straight as the crow flies.'"

"Mayhew is right, Roger," said Dick, "and the chances are as ten to one that we are heading straight for the big lake right now."

For some time they made steady progress. Possibly they covered as much as two miles when the guide was suddenly observed to come to a full stop. Both of the boys followed suit. They were not ten feet behind Mayhew, so it was possible for them to exchange words with him in low tones. Dick it was who found his voice first, for Roger grew so excited he became dumb for the time being.

"What is it, Mayhew?" asked Dick, half-elevating his gun, which contained the only charge of powder and lead they possessed, and under such conditions might be looked on as their sole means of defense in case of threatening peril.

"There are Injuns near by," came the answer. "I saw a feathered head rise above yonder bush; and, as I live, there are others on either side of us. It looks as though we were surrounded!"