Mondovi High School - Mirror Yearbook (Mondovi, WI)

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flAe taken the wrong road.” We had better keep on this road,” said Mr. Davis, “It is just a mile to that old camp ami we may as well he sure that he is not up here before we go any farther.” Before they got to the camp they found several packages among which was what had been a ham but all of the meat was gnawed off. The men said little when they found this but they all thought of the hungry packs of wolves. They soon re 'died the old shacks anil saw Montgomery’s sled drawn up in front of one of the shai ks. They hurried to the door, opened it and looked in. On one side of the shed stood the horse and on the other side on a blanket from the sleigh lay Mr. Montgomery. lie turned his head as they caine in and spoke. “Take me home, Bob.” 11 is body was numb with cold and as they started to help him to the sled he groaned. “My arm, you’re hurting my arm.” They examined it and found it to he broken. They hitched the horse into the sleigh and were soon at Davis’. By this time the other hunters had come in and one of the men went to Montgomery’s cabin to tell Mrs. Montgomery of the safety of her husband. A1 Browning was quite skillful at setting bones and Mr. Montgomery’s arm was soon taken care of. He was very hungry as he had had nothing to eat since noon the day before. After he had eaten and gotten warm, he told them his story. “After I left Davis,” said Mr. Montgomery, “I started directly home. When I had gone about a half a mile the blizzard began. The snow was blinding and it grew very dark. I could not see my way so 1 trusted to my horse. The snow must have blinded him, too, for he turned into the wrong read. 1 must have been about half way to the camp from the main road, when I heard the Howl of wolves in the distance. I thought I must hi nearly home so I kept steadily onward. I was numb with cold and blinded with snow. The howl of the wolves grew closer and closer. Before I reached the cam’ the animals were near the back of the sled. 1 urged my horse on faster, and I threw things off from my load to make them stop and let me gain time. Then I came suddenly upon the lumber camp and they were more desperate than ever. I had thrown most of the meat from the sled and while I was taking the horse from the sled I threw them other articles. I had barely time to get myself and horse into the shed before they would have been upon me. When I jumped from my sled I was so numb with cold that I lost my footing and fell on my arm so that it was broken. It pained me all night and I was obliged to walk around most of the time to keep from freezing. “I tell you I was glad to hear vour voices and get back to food and fire again.” (To be Continued.) 13

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to time to make trips to Downing after the necessary provisions for the family It was a long drive and he must always start early in the morning in order to reach home by dark. One morning in the mid-winter the boys were aroused by his call: “Wake up, hoys, it’s five o’clock! This is the day for my trip to Downing, you know.” The boys rubbed their sleepy eyes and were soon downstairs ready for breakfast. “You must do the chores this morning, and Bob, T want you to harness the gray horse to the sled while I get my things ready to start.” After breakfast Mr. Montgomery remarked “It will be a long cold ride today.” By six o’clock he was buried deep in robes on the sleigh and ready to start. “Good-bye, mother, and boys don’t forget to feed the stock this noon and tonight in case I shouldn’t be back before dark.” The boys and their mother watched him out of sight and then went about their tasks for the day. At four o’clock that afternoon it began to snow and at five o’clock when the boys came in from their chores their mother was becoming anxious. “I wonder why father does not come. It has been dark for half an hour,” said Mrs. Montgomery as she peered intently from the window. “I think he will soon be here, mother,” said Bob, “the wind is starting to blow and the snow is blinding, but father knows the roads around here so well.” “If he is not here in half an hour,” said Tom, “I shall think he surely stopped at Davis’ for the night.” Davis’ were a family of pioneers who lived five miles from Montgomery’s on the road to Downings. As evening came on, the storm grew fiercer and the great hungry packs of timber wolves began to howl. It had been a long hard winter and they were especially fierce from hunger. The Montgomerys went to bed early that night feeling sure that their father was safe at Davis’. The boys were up bright and early the next morning waiting for him. It was ten o’clock and he did not come. Bob, partly to quiet his own fears and partly to quiet the fears of his mother, started on his snow shoes to meet or find his father. He reached Davis’ without seeing any trace of him. Mr. Davis was out in the yard as Bob came up. “Good morning Mr. Davis, have you seen anything of father” called Bob. “Why, hello Bob, isn't your father home?” asked Mr. Davis, “lie stopped here yesterday about half past three but started right on home again.” “Oh,” cried Bob, “lie must have been lost in the storm.” “Come in the house. Bob, until dak and I are ready. We will go over to the lumber camp and get the assistance of the men to help us hunt,” said Mr. Davis. The lumber camp was two miles from Davis’ and the three of them, Bob, Jack Davis, a boy of about the age of Bob, and Mr. Davis were soon started. The lumbermen readily consented to help them and they had soon divided into groups and started on their hunt. They had agreed to meet at Davis’ at three o’clock that afternoon. Bob, Mr. Davis, and A1 Browning, one of the lumbermen took the north road, the one towards Bob’s home. About half way up this road, an old road turned off which led to a deserted lumber camp. As they were passing this road A1 Browning noticed some article lying in the middle of it about two rods from where they stood. On examining it they found it to be the remains of a sack of flour which had been torn to pieces. “This must be from father’s load,” said Bob, “he was going to get flour and surely no one else was out in that storm yesterday. Let’s follow this road. He might have been blinded by the storm and had

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iai A RACE WITH DEATH. (By Edward Stiles.) It was growing dusk, but still early in the evening, when young Pierce Beufourt unwound his long-lashed dog whip with a stinging crack over his six dog sled team, and started his faithful huskies forward with a rush of pattering feet, to carry the doctor to the Northwestern Fur Company’s station five hundred miles north of the Canadian border. Pierce had left the station five days before to get the Doctor to attend the captain’s little blue-eyed daughter who lay deathly sick with pneumonia. It was late in the spring and odds were against the doctor and trailer. The ice in the streams was beginning to soften and made travel exceedingly dangerous over the short perilous passes, but Pierce, faithful to his captain volunteered to risk his life in order to bring the doctor to save the girls life, and the doctor ever a faithful to duty was willing to meet the emergency. All through the night Pierce urged the dogs on, and followed behind the sled to keep them where more than dog tenacity was necessary to cope with the snow and ice. Not until early morning did he come to a halt for a bite to eat, and to allow t 'c dogs to rest. In less than an hour, the team was again in the harness and buckling unto the collar behind their sturdy lead dog, old Spike. For two nights and one day they breasted the north winds and soft snow with never a wink of sleep, and very little food. Once the sled went down into a soft air hole and one dog was drowned before he could be gotten out and the doctor narrowly escaped getting a wetting which would have delayed their race with death. After this, the huskies were ever on the alert to avoid such dog de- vouring traps. In all his days on the north trail, Pierce had never tackled such a trip. Finally, at midnight of the third night, he was forced to halt for rest and nourishment being so weak as to be unable to travel any further. Early morning saw them several miles from their halting place, still tired, foot sore, but mushing steadily towards the fur station and sick girl. During the afternoon one dog, unable to stand the strain, dropped, and was put out of misery with a death blow from the trailers axe. He was cut loose and thrown into the brush for the hungry timber wolves which had been following the party for the last seventy-five miles, leaving only four gaunt muscular dogs to do the work of six. At the end of the fifth night a forced halt was again made to save the dogs from an excess of torture. The last hundred miles was made in a staggering, half-blinded rush. The doctor who had traveled on snow shoes most of the last two hundred miles was in half a daze and traveled on, unconscious of any existing pain, began to show signs of utter exhaustion. Twenty miles from the station, two fresh teams and drivers who had been waiting and watching for the outfit took the doctor and Pierce on. and rushed them in. The doctor administered remedies to the sick-child who soon recovered and cheated Death of its prey. Pierce was in a serious condition having frozen both feet and hands from which it took months to recover. Old Spike lurched forward on his head dead at the station door, never to hit tin tortuous trail again. The old inhabitants at the station never grow wearv of telling of Pierce Beufourt’s race with death. 14