The Incredible Journey: Chapters 4-5

Hunger was now the ruling instinct in the Labrador and it drove him out to forage in the early dawn.

He had spent most of the day ambling around and sleeping, so that by now he seemed almost frisky and quite eager to walk a little.

As the three sat, ears pricked, they watched the moose squelch slowly out of the muddy water, shake himself, and turn, cantering up the bank out of sight.

When the animals looked down from a hill, tantalized and hungry, they saw six or seven fires in the clearing below—their flames lighting up a semicircle of tents and conical birch-bark shelters against a dark background of trees; flickering over the canoes drawn up on the edge of a wild rice marsh and dying redly in the black waters beyond; and throwing into ruddy relief the high, flat planes of brown Ojibway faces gathered around the centers of warmth and brightness.

A woman stood at the edge of the clearing pouring grain from one bark platter to another, and the loose chaff drifted off on the slight wind like smoke.

Halfway down he sneezed violently in an eddy of chaff.

The old dog limped out of the shadows and into the ring of firelight, confident, friendly, and sure of his welcome; his tail wagging his whole stern ingratiatingly, ears and lips laid back in his nightmarish grimace.

But again the woman rebuked her son, and at the sharpness of her tone the old dog stopped, crestfallen.

But again the woman rebuked her son, and at the sharpness of her tone the old dog stopped, crestfallen.

This sent the Indians into paroxysms of laughter, and he had to repeat his performance time and time again, until he was tired and lay down, panting but happy.

When a long-legged, blue-eyed cat appeared out of the darkness, paused, then filled the clearing with a strident plaintive voice before walking up to the dog and calmly taking a piece of meat from him, the Indians laughed until they were speechless and hiccupping.

The two little boys rolled on the ground, kicking their heels in an abandonment of mirth, while the cat chewed his meat unmoved; but this was the kind of behavior the bull terrier understood, and he joined in the fun.

He watched the cat, well-fed and content, curl himself on the lap of one of the sleepy children by the fire; he heard the faint note of derision in some of the Indians’ voices as a little, bent, ancient crone addressed them in earnest and impassioned tones before hobbling over to the dog to examine his shoulder as he lay peacefully before the fire.

He watched the cat, well-fed and content, curl himself on the lap of one of the sleepy children by the fire; he heard the faint note of derision in some of the Indians’ voices as a little, bent, ancient crone addressed them in earnest and impassioned tones before hobbling over to the dog to examine his shoulder as he lay peacefully before the fire.

He watched the cat, well-fed and content, curl himself on the lap of one of the sleepy children by the fire; he heard the faint note of derision in some of the Indians’ voices as a little, bent, ancient crone addressed them in earnest and impassioned tones before hobbling over to the dog to examine his shoulder as he lay peacefully before the fire.

He watched the cat, well-fed and content, curl himself on the lap of one of the sleepy children by the fire; he heard the faint note of derision in some of the Indians’ voices as a little, bent, ancient crone addressed them in earnest and impassioned tones before hobbling over to the dog to examine his shoulder as he lay peacefully before the fire.

Then he barked sharply and imperatively several times.

The cat gave a guttural yowl, then deliberately ran ahead, looking back as he paused beyond the range of firelight.

The Indians watched impassively and silently and made no move to stop him.

That night they became immortal, had they known or cared, for the ancient woman had recognized the old dog at once by his color and companion: he was the White Dog of the Ojibways, the virtuous White Dog of Omen, whose appearance heralds either disaster or good fortune.

He had been made welcome, fed and succored: the omen would prove fortunate.

He was in fine fettle, sleek and well groomed and as debonair as ever, and had adapted himself so well that at times it appeared as though he were positively enjoying the whole expedition.

The only other bear that they had encountered was sleek and fat as butter, complacent and sleepy, his thoughts obviously already running on hibernation, and quite uninterested in strange animals.

The rabbits and weasels had changed to their white winter coats; a few snow buntings had appeared, and several times they had heard the wild, free, exultant calling of the wild geese, and had looked up to see the long black V-shaped skeins passing overhead on the long journey southwards.

The rabbits and weasels had changed to their white winter coats; a few snow buntings had appeared, and several times they had heard the wild, free, exultant calling of the wild geese, and had looked up to see the long black V-shaped skeins passing overhead on the long journey southwards.

Marauding bears had been there recently—their rank, heavy smell still hung on the air, and the cat refused to come nearer, but the old dog, watched by the other, tipped over the heavy can, then tried to pry off the lid with the practiced nose.

They were drinking at midday from a shallow ford crossing an overgrown track to a worked-out silver mine when a cottontail started up in the bracken across the water.

He pottered happily around the lichened rocks and mossy banks, savoring everything with his delicate connoisseur’s nose; he flicked the caps of several large fawn mushrooms in some displeasure; a shiny black beetle received his keen attention for a while and he followed it like a bloodhound.

The straggling procession continued along the cool, green tunnel of the trail for half a mile, until the trees thinned out and they came upon a small cabin set back in a clearing within sight of the derelict mine workings.

Two gleaming lamps appeared in the darkness of the cat’s face and his tail swished in response, but he restrained himself in deference to his surroundings.

The old man chided the chipmunk lovingly as he set four places at the table, handing it a crust which bulged its cheeks, then ladling four very small portions of stew onto the plates.

He looked around the table, suddenly irresolute; then his brow cleared, and he rose to draw up the two remaining chairs and a bench.

He ate slowly and fastidiously.

Even the old dog, for once, was nonplussed: although he shivered in anticipation and saliva ran from his mouth at the enticing smell, he remained sitting as custom and training decreed.

The old-man sat on when the last plate was emptied, lost in his own world, his peaceful stillness diffusing through the little cabin so that the watchers sat graven in their places.

A grosbeak flew in, to perch on the top, the mellow fall sunshine slanting on his brilliant plumage, and it seemed as though the living silence of the great forest around surged up and in through the open door with the bird’s coming, so that the animals stirred uneasily, glancing behind them.

Here they waited for a moment while the young dog furtively uncovered his prize, and the cat joined them; then, without looking back, they trotted in close formation out of sight between the trees.

He was not a very good swimmer; he swam in jerky rapid movements, his head held high out of the water, his little black eyes rolling fearfully; but he was a bull terrier, a “white cavalier,” and he kept on, following the wake of the other, until at last he climbed out on the far side.

The end of a log struck the cat full on the head; he was swept under and over and over until his body was finally caught on a half-submerged piece of the old dam, and was carried along on the impetus of the wave as it tore down the river bed.

He threw his head back and howled his requiem of grief and loneliness to the heavy, weeping sky; until at last the young dog rose wearily and led him away from the river, long before dawn broke, and over the hills to the west.