My Strange Rescue and other stories of Sport and Adventure in Canada

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Oxley James Macdonald. My Strange Rescue and other stories of Sport and Adventure in Canada

MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE

A BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE

IN PERIL AT BLACK RUN

TOUCH AND GO

THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF

TOBOGGANING

A MIC-MAC CINDERELLA

BLUE-NOSE FISHER FOLK

LOST ON THE LIMITS (A CHRISTMAS STORY.)

A STRANGE HELPER

FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM

THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD

FACE TO FACE WITH AN "INDIAN DEVIL."

IN THE NICK OF TIME

SNOW-SHOEING

THE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM

HAROLD'S LASTING IMPRESSION

HOW WILBERFORCE BRENNAN VISITEDWHITE BEAR CASTLE

OUTSIDE THE BOOM

FOUND AFTER MANY DAYS

MRS. GRUNDY'S GOBBLERS

ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE SNOW-RIDGE

THROUGH THE TRACKLESS FOREST

WRECKS AND WRECKERS OF ANTICOSTI

A LUMBER CAMP

LACROSSE

A PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES

LOST ON LAKE ST. LOUIS

ICE-SKATING IN CANADA

THE WILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA

BIRDS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND

THE BORE OF MINAS BASIN

THE GAME OF RINK HOCKEY

ON THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS

THEO'S TOBOGGANING TRIUMPH

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Bruno Perry's home was in about as lonely and unattractive a spot as one could well imagine; an unpleasant fact, the force of which nobody felt more keenly than did Bruno himself, for he was of a very sociable disposition and delighted in companionship. But, besides his father and mother, companions he had none, except his half-bred collie, Steeltrap, who had been given that name because of his sharpness, and who recognized no other master than Bruno, to whom he was unflaggingly devoted.

To find the Perry house was no easy task, for it lay away off from the main road on a little road of its own that was hardly better than a wood-path. Donald Perry was a very strange man. He was moody and taciturn by nature, and much given to brooding over real or fancied wrongs. Some years ago he had owned a fine farm not far from Riverton, but owing to a succession of disputes with his neighbours, about boundary-lines and other matters, he had in a fit of anger disposed of his farm and banished himself and his family to the wilderness, where he had purchased for a mere trifle the abandoned clearing of a timber-jobber.

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But what hope was there of outside help? No one knew where he was, for he had not said anything to his mother when setting out, and his father had gone up the road some miles and would not return until dark. The one chance was that his father, on returning home, would miss him, and perhaps come in search of him, following the track made by his snow-shoes. But, even if he did, that could not be for hours yet, and in the meantime he would freeze to death; for the cold was intense, the thermometer being many degrees below zero.

An hour passed, an hour of pain and fruitless conjecture as to the possibility of rescue. As the evening drew near Bruno became desperate. He gave up all hope of his father reaching him in time, and came to the conclusion that he must either free himself or die; and he saw but one way of getting free. The log lay across his leg just above the ankle. His hatchet was near him. To chop the log away was utterly impossible, but it would be an easy thing to chop off the foot that it held so fast. Grasping the hatchet firmly in his right hand, Bruno hesitated for a moment, and then struck with all his might at his leg. A pang of awful agony shot through him, numbed as his nerves were with the cold. But, setting his teeth in grim determination, he struck blow after blow, heeding not the terrible suffering, until at length the bone snapped and Bruno was free.

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