Left on the Labrador
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Dillon Wallace >> Left on the Labrador
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Lost in retrospection, Charley was surprised by Toby's return with the
rope much sooner than he had expected him. The rope was fastened to the
seal, and the two boys, their hearts light with the certainty of food to
sustain them and end their long fast, hauled the carcass back to their
bivouac.
It was not easy to be abstemious in their eating. The broth from the owl
had aroused the full vigour of the appetite of both boys, which had to
some extent become dormant with long fasting. But they heeded the
warning Toby had borrowed from the Indians, and practicing self-denial
ate sparingly, though often.
Toby busied himself at once in removing the seal's entrails, before the
carcass could freeze, and this he did without skinning it, explaining to
Charley that if the ice formed before they had eaten the flesh, as he
expected it would, they could haul it home over the ice, at the end of
the rope, much more easily than they could carry the dismembered joints.
Extracting the liver, and laying it back under the lean-to on a piece of
bark, Toby remarked:
"We'll be eatin' the liver fried in a bit o' seal fat for breakfast. If
we just eats the owl to-day, I'm thinkin' by marnin' we can stand the
liver, or a piece of un. 'Tis stronger meat than the owl. After the
liver's gone, we'll be tryin' the flippers."
"All right," agreed Charley, happily. "Anything you say goes with me.
I'm going to have a good time here now until we get away."
"So'll I," said Toby, "and we'll not be startin' till the ice is strong
enough, whatever, so's not to be takin' any risk o' breakin' through.
'Tis never as thick outside as 'tis near shore."
When they awoke the next morning, a new and strange silence had fallen
upon the world. Toby sat up excitedly, and shaking Charley into
wakefulness, asked:
"Does you hear un? Does you hear un?"
"Hear what?" asked Charley, sleepily. "I don't hear a thing."
"Hear the stillness!" explained Toby. "The water's not lappin'! The bay
has fastened over! By to-morrow, whatever, we'll be leavin' here for
Double Up Cove!"
"Hurrah!" shouted Charley, now thoroughly awake. "Isn't it great, Toby!
We'll start to-morrow, and to-morrow night we'll be at good old Double
Up Cove again! Hurrah!"
Charley "heard" the silence, the impressive, gravelike silence that had
fallen upon the world. No longer was there a lapping of waters upon the
rocks. No breath of wind murmured through the trees. There was a silence
so complete, so absolute that Charley declared he could actually hear
it.
The boys hurried down to the shore to scan the bay, and sure enough it
lay gray and still under a coating of smooth, dark ice. Toby tried it
with a stick, and already it was tough enough to bear his weight near
shore.
"I'm doubtin' 'tis fast out in the middle yet," said Toby, "but she'll
be freezin' all day, and she'll be fast enough all over by to-morrow,
whatever."
It was a busy day of preparation and excitement. On the morrow they were
surely to be relieved from their island prison and from an experience
that had been most trying and that they would both remember while they
lived. All of the boat gear that they had brought ashore and other
equipment and belongings were gathered together in a pile.
"'Tisn't much," said Toby, "but 'twould make for weariness to pack un on
our backs. I'm thinkin' I'll fix up a riggin' to haul un. 'Twill be
easier than packin'."
He proceeded to lay two of the long boat oars parallel upon the snow,
and about eighteen inches apart. The blade end of the oars he connected
with half a dozen sticks, the end of the sticks lashed firmly to the
oars. The handle end of the oars he connected with a piece of rope,
drawn taut, and securely tied to the handles.
"Now stand betwixt the handles, Charley, and lift un up so's the rope'll
be against your chest," Toby directed.
Charley complied, and Toby tied another piece of rope to the end of one
of the oars, and where the chest rope was tied to it. Then passing the
rope up and in front of the shoulder, then behind the neck and down in
front of the other shoulder, he secured the loose end to the other oar.
"There, now," said Toby, surveying his work, "she'll ride on the ice
and she's right for easy haulin'. The rope up around the back o' your
neck holds she so you won't have to be holdin' she up with your hands,
and you can have un free, and the rope across your chest fixes un so's
you can haul by just walkin'."
"Am I going to haul this rig?" asked Charley.
"We'll be takin' turns at she and the seal," said Toby. "You'll be
haulin' the one you likes to haul best, and I'll be haulin' the other.
But I thinks this un'll be easier to haul than the seal. She'll be
slippin' over the ice wonderful easy. We'll be lashin' the outfit on the
sticks across the oar blades on the other end. 'Twill be light. We
hasn't much of un to take. We'll cache the other pair of oars here for
Dad to pick up next year when he's comin' up with the boat."
"All right," agreed Charley. "This rig will be dead easy to walk with on
the ice, and I think I'll take it and let you drag the seal, if you
don't mind."
"I'll be goin' ahead with the seal, if you likes the rig," planned Toby,
"and I'll take a stick to try the ice, so we'll be keepin' abroad from
any bad ice."
"You're wonderful, Toby!" exclaimed Charley admiringly. "I never would
have thought of fixing up a rig like this."
"'Twill be easier'n packin' the outfit on our backs," remarked Toby.
Under ordinary conditions Charley would have found the fishy flavour of
the seal's liver, and the still more highly flavoured flippers
objectionable, if not offensive, to his taste. But now he pronounced
them delectable, and his revived appetite found no grounds for complaint
or criticism. During the day they consumed the liver, and for the
evening meal a pair of flippers.
With the skin still in place that it might protect the meat and carcass
of the seal in dragging it over the ice, Toby cut some liberal slices of
meat in preparation for the frying pan in the morning, that there might
be no delay. He also prepared an extra portion for the next day's
luncheon, which he said they could eat cold.
Before they retired to their sleeping bags, Toby again led the way to
the ice, and tried it with his ax. It was fully two inches thick.
"She's fine and tough, and she's makin' for thickness fast," Toby
announced delightedly. "She'll be twice as thick by marnin', whatever!
She'd hold us now! Salt water ice is a wonderful sight tougher'n fresh
water ice."
[Illustration: SKIPPER ZEB'S OAR BROKE, AND THE BOAT WAS DRIVEN UPON A
ROCK.]
That night, snug in his sleeping bag, Charley recalled the many
adventures that had befallen him since his arrival at Pinch-In Tickle
nearly a month before. One peril after another had beset him, and now,
the worst of all, threatened starvation upon this desolate island, was
about to end, and he thanked God silently for his deliverance.
To the dwellers in that far, silent land adventures are an incident in
the game of life, and their existence is truly a man's game fashioned
for the sturdy of soul and strong of heart. Everywhere in that bleak
country adventure lurks, ever ready to spring upon the unwary. In the
mysterious and dark depths of the broad forests, in the open wastes of
the bleak barrens, in the breath of the sea winds it is met suddenly and
unexpectedly. And soon enough Charley was to meet it again in a struggle
for his very life, as we shall see.
XV
LOST IN THE BARRENS
Winter, the monarch of the North, had returned to his throne to rule his
kingdom with relentless hand. Never had Charley experienced such cold as
that which met him when he and Toby left their sleeping bags the next
morning. The air was marvelously clear and transparent. The stars shone
with unusual brilliancy, and seemed very near the earth. Frost prisms on
the snow sparkled and glinted in the starlight.
"Our skin boots'll be freezin' stiff as sticks," remarked Toby. "'Tis
time for deerskin moccasins, for the snow'll not be softenin' again.
They'll be steady freezin' all day, and _I_ thinks steady freezin' now
till the end o' winter."
"Oh, boy, but it's cold!" shivered Charley, as he hurriedly drew on his
duffle socks and skin boots.
"Wonderful frosty!" said Toby, as he lighted the fire. "There's no
doubtin' the ice'll be stout enough to hold us now, whatever, and
she'll be makin' thicker all day."
In a few minutes the fire was crackling and snapping cheerily, and the
boys drew close to its genial warmth. A kettle of ice was put over to
melt for water, and some slices of seal meat to fry in the pan.
They were eager to gain release from their island prison, and when their
meal was eaten Toby hurriedly lashed their few belongings, including the
boat sail, which had served so well as a shelter, upon the improvised
travois, for Charley to drag behind him. A rope had been attached to the
now hard-frozen seal the evening before. Snow was thrown upon the fire
to put it out, that there might be no danger of a breeze scattering the
embers among the trees, which covered the center of the island with a
scant growth, and burning them. Then, with cheerful hearts and eager
feet they turned down upon the ice and set forth on their way to Double
Up Cove at last.
Toby, carrying a staff with which to try the ice ahead, and with the
seal in tow, took the lead, while Charley, with the travois followed.
How good it was to be away! How glorious the ice and the starlit
morning!
The surface of the bay, smooth and firm, proved much more solidly frozen
than Toby had expected to find it, and in a little while, when they had
passed the center of ice lying between the island and the mainland, he
discarded his staff as an unnecessary burden.
"She don't bend anywhere," he said delightedly. "We'll not be needin' to
try she now. Past the middle 'tis sure to be tough and thick. We'll be
headin' now for shore, and be keepin' clost inshore where there'll sure
be no bad ice whatever."
"Isn't it glorious!" Charley exploded in exuberance. "I feel like
dancing a jig! Whoopla! Toby, let's yell!"
And together the boys gave a yell that made the forest on the near-by
shore echo.
"Oh, but it's great!" exclaimed Charley a little later. "I'm glad
there's no snow on the ice. This rig I'm harnessed in wouldn't drag half
so easily if there was snow. I don't mind it a little bit. I hardly feel
the difference, it slides so well. How long will it take us?"
"With the early start, we'll be getting there a bit after dinner, and we
may make un by dinner. We were startin' two hours before daylight,
whatever."
The travois continued to prove no appreciable burden to Charley, as Toby
had feared it would. The clear frosty air was an inspiration to fast
walking, and indeed it was necessary for the boys to walk fast in order
that they might keep the blood in circulation and comfortably warm. His
experience on the trail with Skipper Zeb had toughened Charley's
muscles, and improved his powers of endurance greatly, and he had no
difficulty in keeping the quite rapid pace that Toby made.
They had been a full two hours on the trail when daylight came, and
presently the sun peeped over the eastern horizon. In the flood of
glorious sunshine that suddenly bathed the world, every shrub and bush
that lined the shore, thickly coated with hoarfrost and rime, sparkled
and glinted as though encrusted with burnished silver set with countless
diamonds.
"How wonderful!" exclaimed Charley. "Isn't it great, Toby! I never saw
anything like it!"
"Aye, 'tis wonderful fine," said Toby.
Even in the full rays of sunshine the snow along shore did not soften,
and the ice kept dry. Charley declared that it was no warmer at midday
than it had been in the early morning.
It was nearly one o'clock when they rounded the point above Double Up
Cove, and the cabin fell into view. Smoke was curling upward from the
stovepipe which protruded above the roof. How cozy and hospitable it
looked! Both boys gave exclamations of pleasure, and with one accord
broke into a trot.
Mrs. Twig and Violet saw them coming, and putting on the kettle hurried
outside to greet them, and what a welcome they received!
"Set down now, lads, by the stove whilst I gets you something to eat,
and sets a pot o' tea to brew," admonished Mrs. Twig. "You must be rare
hungry, and 'tis wonderful frosty."
While the boys ate a hastily prepared luncheon of bread and molasses and
drank hot tea they related their experiences, interrupted by Mrs. Twig,
who was cooking a substantial dinner of stewed rabbit, with frequent
exclamations of concern or sympathy.
"Vi'let and I were worryin' and worryin' about you lads, when the storm
comes," confessed Mrs. Twig. "We were fearin' you'd be comin' in the
boat. I'm wonderful thankful you gets home safe!"
The borrowed garments that Charley had been wearing were now discarded
for new, and sealskin boots were now replaced by buckskin moccasins and
moleskin leggings.
During their absence Mrs. Twig had made for Charley an adikey of white
woolen kersey, and another to wear over it of white moleskin cloth, the
hood of the latter trimmed with lynx fur. The former was for warmth, and
the latter to break the wind and to shed snow readily. She had also made
him moleskin trousers and leggings, and a fur cap for each of the boys.
The caps were made from the pelt of the lynx that they had shot on that
memorable evening when they first set their rabbit snares. There were
new buckskin moccasins for Charley, with socks of heavy blanket duffle
to wear inside the moccasins; and buckskin mittens, with inner mittens
of duffle that would keep the hands comfortable on the coldest day.
The novelty of the new life, flavoured with his many adventures, had
long since stilled completely the pangs of homesickness that had
insisted upon asserting themselves during Charley's first days at
Double Up Cove, and he was quite as contented as though he had always
lived in a cabin in the wilderness. Home and the old life had melted
into what seemed like a far distant past to him, though his father and
mother were still very real and dear, and he often imagined them as near
at hand, as they were, indeed, in a spiritual sense.
On the day after their return fresh rabbit snares were set, and on the
following morning when they went to look at the snares, Toby took with
him two fox traps.
"I were seein' some footin' o' foxes on the mesh," he explained. "I'm
thinkin' we'll set the traps, and we might get a fox. Dad would be
wonderful glad and we gets a fox. There's a chance we might get a
silver, or a cross, whatever."
"That would be great!" exclaimed Charley. "And can't we set other
traps?"
"Aye, when I gets everything fixed up about home we'll set some marten
traps too. There's fine signs o' martens. Dad don't think we can get un
hereabouts, but I sees the signs and we'll get un!"
Beyond the last rabbit snare, and a quarter mile out upon an open marsh,
Toby set the first fox trap, concealing it, as Skipper Zeb had
concealed his fox traps, with great care, and scattering bits of meat
around the trap and over the snow, and a few drops of liquid from a
bottle which he called "scent," and which had a most unpleasant odour.
"Skipper Tom Ham'll be like to bring the dogs over from Lucky Bight now
any day, with the bay fast," said Toby as they turned homeward. "I wants
to get some more wood cut to haul with un when they comes, but we'll set
some o' the marten traps up to-morrow and more of un later."
"Oh!" exclaimed Charley. "We've been doing so many things I forgot all
about the dogs! Then we can travel with them?"
"Aye, we'll be cruisin' with un. 'Twill be a fine way for you to get
used to un, helpin' me haul in the wood, and you'll be learnin' to drive
un. We hauls in most of our wood in the spring, but they's some left to
haul, and if I cuts more whilst they's a chanst before the snow gets too
deep, we'll be haulin' that too, so there'll be plenty of un."
"How many dogs are there?" Charley asked eagerly.
"Eight of un," answered Toby, "and 'tis the best team on The Labrador,
_I_ thinks. They's the real nu'thern dogs. Dad says the nu'thern dogs
has more wolf in they than others has."
"Do they look like wolves?" Charley asked in some awe.
"Aye, they look so much like un you could scarce tell un from wolves,
only they curls their tails up over their backs and wolves don't."
"Are they cross?" Charley inquired anxiously.
"I wouldn't call un cross," explained Toby. "I calls un sneaky. If they
thinks they could down you, they'd do un quick enough. 'Tis best to
carry a stick when you goes abroad among un, till you gets used to un
and they gets used to you. They're wonderful scared of a stick."
"I'll carry a stick, but I'll make friends with them too. I like dogs."
"They's not like other dogs," warned Toby. "Maybe you won't be likin'
they so much after you sees un."
"I can hardly wait till the dogs come! I've read so much about Eskimo
dogs, but I never saw them pulling a sledge, and I know it's going to be
great sport traveling with them."
"Soon as Tom brings un we'll start haulin' the wood. I'll have to be
workin' wonderful hard cuttin' more, so we'll have un hauled before too
late. The wood gets so deep under, that 'tis hard to dig un out o' the
snow."
"I could look after the snares and fox traps," suggested Charley, "and
you could cut wood. I can set up some more snares, too."
"Aye, now, you could look after un, whilst I cuts more wood. You knows
from the tracks we makes where the traps are set, and you can find un.
I'll be cuttin' no more wood after the next snow comes. 'Twill be
gettin' too deep by then, and I'll not be havin' long to cut un."
"All right," and Charley was quite delighted with the prospect of
responsibility, and the fact that Toby would trust him to go alone.
"I'll start in to-morrow morning. May I carry your shotgun when I go?"
"Aye, carry un. You may be pickin' up some pa'tridges."
In accordance with this arrangement, Charley visited the rabbit snares
and the fox traps alone the next morning, and returned quite elated with
his experience, bringing with him three rabbits that he had found in
snares and four spruce grouse that he had shot. It was dinner time when
he appeared, and he reported to Toby, who had just reached the cabin
after a morning chopping wood, that there was nothing in the fox traps,
and that he had set up three new snares.
"That's fine, now," Toby praised. "I were knowin' you could 'tend the
snares and traps alone. You can do un as well as I can."
"Thank you," said Charley, much elated at Toby's praise. "It was great
fun."
For two more days Charley proudly followed the trail alone, and then
came a morning with a heavily overcast sky, and a keen northeast wind
blowing in from the bay. Toby predicted that it would snow before
midday, and as Charley slipped his feet into his snowshoe slings, and
shouldered Toby's gun preparatory to setting out to make the morning
round of the traps and snares alone, Toby warned:
"If snow starts, 'twill be best to turn about and come home as soon as
you sees un start. If she comes she'll cover the footin' wonderful fast,
and you might be goin' abroad from the trail. The wind'll be risin' a
bit, and if she blows hard 'twill make for nasty traveling and I'm
thinkin' when the snow starts the wind'll come up quick, and be blowin'
wonderful hard before you knows un."
"Oh, I'll be all right," Charley assured confidently. "I ought to know
my way by this time, even if the snow does cover my tracks."
"'Twill be safer to turn back," said Toby. "Don't go to the fox traps.
'Twill do no harm to let un stand over a day."
Charley had reached the last of the rabbit snares before the first
flakes of the threatened storm fell. He had three rabbits in a game bag
slung over his shoulder, and he was hesitating as to whether or not he
should visit the fox traps or heed Toby's warning to turn back, when he
was startled by a flock of ptarmigans, or "white pa'tridges," as Toby
called them, rising at the edge of the marsh.
The partridges flew a short distance out upon the marsh, and alighted
upon the snow. Charley could see them plainly. They offered a good shot,
and it would be a feat to bag some of them.
Quite excited with the prospect, he followed them, and with careful
stalking brought down two, one with each barrel of his gun. Startled by
the shots, the remainder of the flock flew farther into the open marsh,
and elated with his success Charley picked up the two birds he had
killed, and following the flock soon succeeded in bagging two more. The
next flight was much farther, but he overtook them and shot a fifth
bird. They now took a long flight, and were lost in the mist of snow,
which was now falling thickly.
Forgetting all caution, Charley continued to follow in the direction in
which the birds had disappeared. On and on he went without a thought of
danger. He was sure the birds had not gone far, and he must have one
more shot at them before turning back.
All at once, he found himself in a rocky, barren region. He had crossed
the marsh, and was rising upon higher ground. This must certainly, he
concluded, be a barren beyond the marsh of which Toby had told him, and
he suddenly realized that he had gone much farther than he had yet
ventured.
In the brief space of time since he had last flushed the birds the wind
had risen and was fast gaining strength. Already the snow was drifting
so thickly that he could not see the marsh, which lay between the
barrens and the forest. But still he was not alarmed.
"I've got five of them anyway," he said exultantly, looking into his bag
and admiring the beautiful white birds. "Toby said it was some stunt to
shoot ptarmigans. I guess he'll think now that I can shoot most as well
as he can."
With no other thought than that he could find his way to the marsh and
across it to the forest without difficulty, he turned to retrace his
steps.
"Even if I can't see far, I can follow my tracks I made coming in," he
said confidently. "That'll be dead easy."
Every moment the wind was rising, and the storm was increasing in fury.
Before he had reached the marsh, the gale was sweeping the snow before
it in suffocating clouds, and he was forced frequently to turn his back
upon it that he might catch his breath.
Presently Charley realized that he had lost the trail of his snowshoe
prints, but still confident that he could find it he searched first to
the right and then to the left, but nowhere could he discover it.
Then it was that he became anxious, and a vague fear fell upon him, and
he rushed madly about in vain search of some sign that would guide him.
He could scarcely see twenty feet away, and nowhere within his limited
range of vision was a rock or bush or anything that he had ever before
seen. Suddenly he knew that he was lost. The thought fell upon him like
an overwhelming disaster. All at once he was seized by wild terror. He
must find the forest or he would perish! The snow was suffocating him,
and his legs were atremble with the effort he had put forth.
Dazed and uncertain he stood, with the wind swirling the snow about him,
and then, with no sense of direction, like a panic-stricken animal, he
plunged away into the storm.
FOOTNOTE: [5] Old harbour seal.
XVI
A WALL OF SNOW
Several times he fell, and regaining his feet rushed madly and blindly
about in vain hope of finding the lost trail and escaping the doom that
seemed closing in upon him. The snow clouds were like dense walls, and
he, like a child, in puny effort wildly trying to batter them down to
gain his freedom.
Finally exhaustion overtook him, and with it a degree of reason. His
legs were weak and quivering with their effort. He began to realize that
he had been depending upon them to extricate him from the trackless
marsh in which he wandered, instead of using reason. Limp and trembling
as a result of the mad fear that had taken possession of him, and the
tremendous physical exertion he had been putting forth, he stopped and
with wild, still frightened eyes gazed at the walls of snow that
surrounded him like an impassable barrier.
Then his brain began to function and his reason to return. He knew that
he must reach the cover of the forest, where the trees would shelter
him from the blasts that swept the marsh. There he would find some
measure of protection at least, and in any case the forest lay between
him and the cabin at Double Up Cove.
He recalled that time and again Toby had said to him, "Dad's wonderful
fine at gettin' out o' fixes, and he always does un by usin' his head."
And Skipper Zeb himself had said, "When a man gets into a fix 'tis
mostly because he don't use his head, and 'tis his head has to get he
out of un. His legs and his hands won't help he, unless his head tells
un what to do."
That was logical and reasonable. He was now in a "fix," and a worse fix
indeed than that in which he and Toby had found themselves on Swile
Island. Charley crouched with his back to the snow-laden blasts while he
tried to gather his senses and his poise, and these thoughts flashing
through his mind, gave him courage. It was bitterly cold and he knew
that he must soon find shelter or he would perish. In his mad panic, he
had not only lost knowledge of direction, but had expended much of his
strength.
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