Sixteen in Nome by Max Brand

Author:Max Brand [Brand, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action & Adventure
Publisher: Roy Glashan's Library
Published: 2013-05-25T23:00:00+00:00

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XVII. – WHAT THE DOCTOR THINKS

Threading a needle with gloves on is a hard job. But I would rather try to thread a needle than handle a rifle with the sort of mittens that one wears in the arctic. In the first place, it is hard to crowd the forefinger inside of the trigger guard, and I worked and worked at my own pair until I managed to construct a finger cover that was smaller without being thin enough to allow a finger to grow cold. Furthermore, I got Jerry Payson, who used to be a blacksmith, to make a much larger guard. It looked like nothing much, that guard, when it was finished, but it was roomy and comfortable, and exactly what I wanted for the occasion. I had Jerry make two pairs, because I wanted one for my own rifle and an extra one for Massey’s, in case he should regain his eyesight.

After Jerry finished the guards and put them on the rifles, I took mine outside of Circle City to do some practicing. I had just finished a hard freighting trip to Forty Mile, and now I had some time out while we waited to get a new job. Even with the bigger guard, I found the rifle wonderfully clumsy. It seemed to slip and give, and it would not fit snugly against the shoulder, because of the thickness of the coat that I had on. Well, no matter for inconveniences, a fellow will put up with them when he feels that his life is going to depend upon the makeshift, one day.

I had drilled away six times at a willow at fifty yards before I hit the trunk fairly, and the shock of the bullet whizzing through dislodged a chunk of snow frozen into an upper fork of the little tree. When that lump fell, what do you think? A snowshoe rabbit jumped up and skidded for safer country. That rabbit had been lying low there all the time I put the whiz of five bullets over his head! But as Massey used to say, a rabbit is such a fool that it is almost a genius.

I swung the gun around and tried for that rabbit, but he did a spry hop just as I pulled the trigger. I tried again, and though he swerved as I fired, the bullet was going faster than his tricky legs, and he rolled over heels–a good fresh meal for Massey and me, I hoped.

I was about to start for that jack, when a voice said behind me: “Wasting ammunition this far north, Joe May?”

I turned around short and saw Doctor Hector Forman right behind me. He must have sneaked up while I was shooting but, for that matter, he was so small and light that it was no wonder he could get across the snow without making much noise.

I looked at him with an odd feeling, as I always had since he began to take care of Massey.

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