Left on the Labrador
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Dillon Wallace >> Left on the Labrador
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"Oh, I wish we could!" Charley exclaimed. "But the skins aren't really
mine," he added more soberly. "I owe you a lot for keeping me here, and
for all you've done for me, but Dad will pay you for that when I get
home."
"You owes us nothing," declared Mrs. Twig, a little out of patience that
Charley should have suggested it. "You pays for all you gets in work,
and half the skins be yours, whatever."
"Thank you," said Charley gratefully, "but I can't help feeling that
you're doing a lot more for me than I deserve, and I'm sure a good deal
more than I've earned."
"You earns all of un, and more than you gets," insisted Mrs. Twig
kindly. "'Tis wonderful fine to have you here with Toby, and we're
gettin' to think so much you belongs to us 'twill be a rare hard thing
to see you go. You lads better be startin' for Deer Harbour in the
marnin'. You'll be reachin' Pinch-In Tickle by noon, whatever, with the
fine footin' for the dogs, and Deer Harbour by night. Comin' back the
next day you can bide the night at Pinch-In Tickle, and fetch back the
fishin' gear that needs mendin', so 'twill be here to work on when
they's time to work on un."
Charley and Toby were as excited as they could be, and that evening all
arrangements were made for an early start in the morning. It was to be
Charley's first long dog journey, and that night he lay awake a long
time thinking of the wonderful journey he was to have, and of the new
rifle he was to buy.
FOOTNOTE: [6] Sledge.
XIX
CHARLEY'S NEW RIFLE
Breakfast was eaten early, and long before daylight, which in that
latitude does not come at this season until nearly ten o'clock. Toby and
Charley brought the komatik box into the cabin that Mrs. Twig might pack
it for them.
In a cotton bag as a protection, the precious marten pelts were stored
in the bottom of the box. Then came the provisions consisting of
hardtack, which would not freeze as would ordinary bread, tea, a bottle
of molasses, a liberal quantity of salt pork, and the necessary cooking
utensils. As a precaution in case of accident some extra duffle socks,
and an extra pair of buckskin moccasins were included for each, and Toby
added some cartridges for his rifle.
The box packed, it was lashed upon the rear of the komatik, and on the
floor of the sledge, in front of the box, Toby spread an untanned
caribou skin, and upon it lashed their sleeping bags, securing his rifle
and an ax under the lashings, and tying to them his own and Charley's
snowshoes.
"Look out for bad ice, and be wonderful careful on the ballicaders,"[7]
cautioned Mrs. Twig, as Toby broke the komatik loose and the dogs dashed
away down the decline to the bay ice.
A big full moon lighted the ice, which stretched before them for miles
in an unbroken white sheet. Rime filled the air, and soon their clothing
was coated with a film of frost. In the silvery moonlight they passed
the black cliff of the Duck's Head. They were well down the bay when
daylight came, and at last the sun rose, and its glorious rays set the
rime-filled air shimmering like a veil of silver.
An hour before noon they reached Pinch-In Tickle, and stopped in the
cabin to boil the kettle and eat a hasty luncheon. What memories it
revived of the day when Charley first entered the door with Toby, and
was first greeted by Skipper Zeb! How miserable a place in which to live
Charley thought it then! How alone and deserted he felt! Now it appealed
to him as not uncomfortable, and here he had found friends and a
welcome; and the thought came to him that when the time to leave The
Labrador came he would feel equally as badly at the leaving as he had at
the entry.
Upon investigation, the ice in the tickle proved unsafe, and in the
center there was some open water, where the tide surging in and out of
the narrow passage had not permitted it to freeze.
In order, therefore, to reach the sea ice outside, it proved necessary
to cross the low ridge of hills to the eastward of the cabin, which
Charley and Toby had climbed on the day that the mail boat deserted
Charley.
The ridge was bare of trees, and there was a hard coating of icy snow
upon its rocky surface. From the cabins to the summit the slope was
gradual, and with some help over the steeper places, the dogs hauled the
komatik to the summit with little difficulty.
The descent to the sea ice on the opposite side was much more abrupt.
Immediately it was begun, the komatik began to coast, and Toby threw a
ring of braided walrus hide over the front end of one of the runners.
This "drag," as he called it, was three feet in diameter and as thick as
his wrist. The lower side of the ring, dragging back under the runner,
was forced into the hard snow, and thus served to retard the komatik,
but even then it gathered such speed that the dogs were forced to turn
aside, lest it should run them down, and to race with it as fast as they
could run. Toby threw himself upon his side upon the komatik, clinging
to it with both hands, and sticking his heels into the snow at the side
and in front of him, and running with the komatik at the same time, put
forth all his strength to hold it back.
This is exceedingly dangerous work, as Charley realized. A single
misstep might result in a broken leg, and even worse injury, and Charley
held his breath in expectation that some such catastrophe would surely
happen before they reached the bottom.
Once a dog's trace caught over a rock. The dog was sent sprawling, and
Charley expected that the speeding komatik would strike and crush the
helpless animal. But fortunately the trace slipped over the top of the
rock just in time for the dog to escape, and in a moment it was on its
feet again, racing with its companions.
They had covered two-thirds of the descent, when to their horror the
boys saw a ribbon of black water, several yards in width, separating
the shore from the sea ice. They were dashing directly toward it at
tremendous speed, and Charley was sure that they could not avoid a
plunge into its cold depths.
"Roll off!" Toby shouted.
Charley rolled clear of the speeding komatik, pitching over and over,
and finally sliding to a stop, dazed and bewildered, but in time to see
the komatik, bottom up, at the very brink of the chasm. Toby was
sprawling just above it. The dogs, with traces taut, stood above him
bracing themselves to hold the sledge from slipping farther.
"Oh!" cried Charley running down to Toby, who was up and righting the
komatik before he could reach him, "I was sure we were going over!"
"We were wonderful close to un!" said Toby. "When you drops off, I jerks
the front of the komatik and that makes she turn over and roll, and when
I does un the dogs stops and holds fast. If 'tweren't for that we'd sure
gone into the water and liker'n not been drowned."
"What'll we do now?" asked Charley. "We can't reach the sea ice."
"Follow the ballicaders," said Toby, indicating a narrow strip of ice
hanging to the shore above the water. "'Twere careless of me not to
think of the open water. This early in winter 'tis always like this
above and below the tickle."
For nearly an hour they traveled upon the ice barricade. Sometimes it
was so narrow that Charley's heart was in his mouth in fear that the
komatik would slip over the brink. But Toby was a good driver, and at
last they came in safety to the end of the water, with the ocean solidly
frozen as far as they could see.
Here they turned upon the sea ice, and presently left the shore behind
them to cross a wide bay. The sun was setting, and they were approaching
land on the opposite shore of the bay, when Toby remarked:
"We're most there. Deer Harbour's just around that p'int you sees
ahead."
Just before dusk they drove up to the little log house and trading store
of Skipper Cyrus Blink, and glad enough they were to be met at the door
by Skipper Blink, who greeted them most heartily, and helped them to
unharness their dogs and unpack their komatik, and when they had fed the
dogs ushered them into the warm cabin, where Mrs. Blink, who had seen
them coming, had a pot of hot tea ready to pour and a "snack" to eat to
"stay their stummiks" till supper would be ready.
Skipper Blink's store, or "shop" as he called it, was in a small room
adjoining the living-room. It was a most primitive emporium of a most
primitive frontier. Its stock of goods was limited to the necessities of
the people, and consisted chiefly of flour, pork, molasses, duffle,
practical clothing, arms and ammunition, with a pail of "sweets," or
hard candies that at some remote date might have laid claim to being
"fresh." It was a small branch shop of the Hudson's Bay Company's
establishment known as the "Post" at Snow Inlet, some twenty miles to
the northward, and Skipper Blink received from the Company a commission
upon the trade which he did.
Charley could scarcely restrain his eagerness to hold in his hands the
new rifle which he was to purchase, and when he and Toby had finished
their "snack," he asked:
"Have you any guns for sale?"
"Aye," said the Skipper, "I has three shotguns in the shop and three
rifles. What kind now would you be wantin'?"
"A rifle," said Charley. "Do you think I might see it now?"
"You can see un," answered the Skipper obligingly. "I'll fetch un right
in here where 'tis warm. I has a forty-four carbine, a forty-five rifle
and a thirty rifle. The forty-five would be a bit heavy for you. The
forty-four is fine and light, and so is the thirty, and that's a
wonderful far shootin' and strong shootin' gun, but the ca'tridges comes
high."
"Thank you," said Charley, "I'd like to look at the rifles."
Accordingly Skipper Cy lighted a candle, and passed through the door
leading to the shop, presently to return with the three rifles.
"Now here be the forty-four," said he, presenting the carbine for
inspection. "'Tis a wonderful light fine gun for a lad."
"It's just like yours, isn't it, Toby?" Charley asked.
"Aye," said Toby, "the one I has is a forty-four carbine, just like this
un."
"'Tis a fine rifle for any shootin'," explained Skipper Blink. "'Tis
strong enough for deer or bear, if you hits un right, and 'tis fine for
pa'tridges if you shoots un in the head. I finds un fine to hunt with,
and 'tis not so costive as the others."
"Let me see the forty-five," suggested Charley. "That looks like a big,
strong gun."
"Here 'tis now," and Skipper Blink handed it to Charley. "'Tis a
wonderful sight stronger shootin' gun than the forty-four, but 'tis a
bit too heavy for a lad like you to pack. 'Twould make for weariness,
packin' she all day."
"It is heavy," agreed Charley, returning it to Skipper Blink, and eyeing
the thirty caliber. "May I see the other one?"
"Aye, and there 'tis now. She's the best, and I keeps she for the last,"
said Skipper Blink proudly, as he delivered it into Charley's hands.
"_She's_ a rifle now. She's the best and strongest shootin' gun I ever
sees."
"This isn't heavy," said Charley. "I like it mighty well. Try it, Toby,
and see what you think of it."
"She is fine and light," said Toby. "I likes un better'n the
forty-four."
"So do I, ever so much," said Charley taking it back from Toby, and
handling it caressingly.
"You knows a good gun when you sees un, lad," flattered Skipper Blink.
"I were thinkin' when you asks to see un that you'd be pickin' that un,
and I were sayin' to myself, 'There's a lad now what knows a gun, and
he'll be wantin' the thirty.' But 'tis the most costive of all of un."
"I'll take it anyhow," agreed Charley, fondling the arm, quite sure that
his happiness depended upon owning it, and recognizing it as the
undoubted aristocrat of the three.
"That's right, lad," beamed the Skipper. "When the bullet from that un
hits a deer, you'll be gettin' the deer, whatever. Let me get a bit o'
rag and wipe the grease off of she. And we'll take the ramrod and wipe
out the barrel. 'Tis clogged full o' grease, and if you shoots she
without cleanin' she out 'tis like to split she."
When Skipper Cy had cleaned the gun to his satisfaction he handed it to
Charley, with the suggestion:
"You'll be needin' some ca'tridges--a hundred, whatever."
"I'll take a hundred and fifty," said Charley proudly.
"They comes twenty in a box," advised the Skipper. "If you takes seven
boxes 'twill do you. 'Tis all I has."
"Very well," agreed Charley.
It was Charley's first gun. He fondled it and handled it, and scarce put
it down until Mrs. Blink announced supper, and they sat down to an
appetizing meal of bruise.[8] Both boys were hungry, and Skipper Cy
urged them to eat.
"Fill up, now," he would say. "Take more of un. You lads have had a long
day cruisin', and I'm not doubtin' you're fair starved."
And they ate and ate of the bruise until they could eat no more, with
all the good Skipper's urging.
When they were through Skipper Cy took them into the store, or "shop" as
he called it, where Charley purchased fresh underwear for himself and
for Toby to take the place of that which Toby had let him use, and Toby
purchased necessities which Mrs. Twig required at home, and still there
was a small balance left to Charley's credit.
"I'd like something for Mrs. Twig," suggested Charley. "Have you
anything you think she'd like?"
"Just the thing! Just the thing!" and Skipper Cy produced a small woolen
shawl. "She'll like un for her shoulders. Mrs. Blink wears one of un,
and she's wonderful proud of un, and says 'tis a rare comfort."
"Mother _would_ like un wonderful well," advised Toby, much pleased at
Charley's thoughtfulness.
"All right," agreed Charley. "And now I want something for Violet."
"I has just the thing for the little maid!" Skipper Cy beamed
delightedly.
Going to a chest he produced a really nice and prettily dressed little
doll.
"Here's a doll I gets at the Moravian Mission. I gets un because 'tis a
pretty trinket, but I has no use for un. Take un to the little maid from
me, and tell she I sends un to she."
"Vi'let never has a doll in her life, but just a bit of cloth tied
around a stick Mother fixes up for she and she calls a doll!" exclaimed
Toby delightedly.
"It is _just_ the thing! But I want to pay for it," insisted Charley. "I
want to give it to her myself."
Finally it was agreed that Charley should pay Skipper Cy the price that
he had paid the Mission folk for it, and he was perhaps quite as happy,
and even more happy, with the thought of the pleasure his gifts would
give Mrs. Twig and Violet than with his new rifle.
This closed Charley's purchases, and still he found that there was a
small balance due him. This balance, he insisted, Toby should use in
selecting something for himself, and Toby acquired some additional
cartridges for his rifle, confessing that his supply was low, and from
the pail of ancient candy a quantity of "sweets" to take home; and
though the candy was hard with age, in this land where luxuries are
scarce, it was hailed as a great treat.
They were up and had their breakfast before daylight, as is the custom
in this country, and with daylight the boys went out to try Charley's
new rifle, which proved to be an accurate and strong shooting gun, and
quite equal to Skipper Cy's recommendation. Charley found, indeed, that
he could make a better target with it than with Toby's rifle. And it was
well that he had taken this early opportunity to become accustomed to
its mechanism, as events proved.
Shortly after sunrise they said good-bye to Skipper and Mrs. Blink, and
were on their way to Pinch-In Tickle, where it was their purpose to
spend the night.
When they passed out and beyond the point and the shelter of land they
met a stiff southeast wind, and looking at the sky, Toby stopped the
dogs.
"'Twill be blowin' hard before noon, and 'tis like to move the ice,"
said Toby. "'Twill take two hours whatever to make land the other side."
"What can we do?" asked Charley. "Can we go around?"
"We'd not make un to-day," said Toby. "I'm thinkin' by hurryin' the dogs
a bit we can make un. The ice'll not go abroad unless the wind blows a
good bit stronger than 'tis blowin' now."
"Hadn't we better go back and wait until we're sure?" asked Charley
anxiously.
"If we goes back and waits we'll not be gettin' home to-morrow," Toby
objected. "We promises Mother we'd be home by to-morrow night whatever."
"Let's take a chance at it," said Charley. "This wind can't move the
ice, and we can get across before it gets blowing much harder."
"Ooisht!"[9] called Toby, breaking the komatik loose, and away went the
dogs.
"Oksuit! Oksuit!"[10] Toby kept calling to the dogs, snapping the whip
over them and urging them ahead.
"What's that?" It was an hour later, and Charley pointed to a great
moving object a half mile seaward.
"A white bear!" exclaimed Toby, after a moment's scrutiny.
"Can't we get it?" Charley excitedly clutched his new rifle.
"We'll try un! Rahder! Rahder! Rahder!"[11] Toby shouted in rapid
command, as rapidly as he could speak the word.
Slowly the dogs turned to the left and toward the bear. Suddenly a sniff
of the animal came down the wind. Immediately the dogs sprang forward in
their traces, and with short, sharp yelps were in wild, unrestrained
pursuit. The komatik swayed from side to side, now on one runner, now on
the other with every ice hummock it struck.
The bear did not run. Either its dignity, its confidence in its own
strength and prowess, or resentment that any should dare invade its
silent domain led it to face about upon its enemies.
FOOTNOTES:
[7] Ice barriers skirting open water.
[8] Hardtack and salt codfish cooked together.
[9] Go on.
[10] Hurry! Hurry!
[11] To the left.
XX
THE REBELLION OF THE DOGS
"He's like to run before we gets to he," shouted Toby, between bumps of
the speeding sledge, "but I'm thinkin' the dogs'll catch he before he
gets to open water if he tries gettin' away."
But the bear did not run. He rose upon his haunches, and looked upon the
advancing dogs with apparent contempt, the monarch of the ice fields.
"He's a whopper!" exclaimed Charley, his heart beating double time, as
Toby by means of the drag cautiously slackened the speed of the team,
and at a safe distance came to a stop, with the dogs, eager to be at the
bear, springing in their traces and emitting snarls and growls and
little impatient yelps.
"Don't shoot till I gets the dogs clear!" warned Toby. "If he comes at
un whilst they's in harness they won't have a chanst to dodge he!"
Toby threw the komatik upon its side, with its nose against an ice
hummock as an anchorage, and observing this maneuver, the bear resumed
all fours and began a retreat with a lumbering, but astonishingly rapid
gait, toward the northward.
"Go after he and shoot!" Toby shouted, at the same time, with feverish
haste, endeavouring to loosen his rifle from its lashings upon the
komatik, and losing no time in unleashing the dogs.
The bear was already fifty yards away when Charley fired. It was not a
long shot, but in his excitement he missed, and the report of the rifle
did not, apparently, in any manner decrease or accelerate the bear's
speed. Again Charley fired, aiming more carefully, and this time the
bear stopped and bit at a wound in its flank. Taking advantage of the
animal's pause, Charley ran toward it, and fired a third shot. Now the
bear bit at its shoulder, and suddenly in mighty rage turned upon
Charley and charged him.
A cold chill ran up and down his spine, and his hair stood upon end,
when he saw the mighty hulk of the enraged beast coming at him. Again he
fired, but on came the bear, and Charley turned and ran.
[Illustration: THE GREAT PAW SENT TOBY SPRAWLING.]
In the meantime, Toby had extricated his rifle and was running to
Charley's assistance. They were taking a direction at right angles to
Toby, which gave him an excellent opening, and with careful aim he fired
upon the bear.
The bear paused to bite at a fresh wound, and discovering a new enemy,
turned upon Toby who fired again, but with no apparent effect. Hoping to
plant a bullet in the bear's head, Toby held his ground. He threw the
lever forward to eject the empty shell, and jerked it back to insert a
fresh cartridge with undue haste, and to his consternation it jammed. He
jerked at the lever, but it would not move. Beads of perspiration broke
out upon his forehead. The bear was less than a dozen feet from him.
Toby dropped his gun and ran, but he knew he could not outdistance the
furious animal at his heels. At that moment Charley's rifle rang out.
The tip of the bear's great paw reached Toby and sent him sprawling, and
as he fell the bear suddenly sank with a grunt like the dying exhaust of
an engine.
"You got un! You got un!" exclaimed Toby, springing to his feet.
"I thought he was going to get you!" said Charley, all atremble.
"He just touched me!" Toby boasted. "'Tis the first white bear killed in
these parts in two years, whatever!"
Toby and Charley gloated over their prize, and when they had examined
the carcass, Toby declared that it was Charley's last shot, just behind
the shoulder, that had killed it.
"My shots takes un too far for'ard, and all your shots hits un too far
back, except one," Toby declared.
Nearly an hour was occupied in skinning the bear, and in packing and
lashing the meat upon the komatik. While they packed the meat, the dogs
were permitted to feast upon the offal, as their reward, and when all
was ready they turned their faces again toward Pinch-In Tickle, quite
elated with their success.
Travel now, with the heavily laden komatik, was slow, and the overfed
dogs required constant urging. Completely engrossed with the capture and
skinning of the bear, both Toby and Charley had quite forgotten about
the unstable condition of the ice. Now they were aware that the wind was
blowing considerably harder than when they had started. Charley was the
first to speak of it.
"The wind has stiffened," said he with some concern. "The bear made us
forget about the ice. Do you think it's all right?"
"That's what I'm thinkin' about." Toby looked worried. "We'll soon be
knowin'. If the ice has gone abroad from the shore, we're in a worse fix
than the bear had us in."
"What'll we do if it has?" asked Charley with a sinking heart.
"'Twill be a bad fix. 'Twill be a wonderful bad fix. I'm not knowin' how
we'd be gettin' out of a fix like that. I'd be wishin' Dad was here to
get us out of un. He's always findin' a way out of fixes. We won't be
thinkin' about un till we finds out. Dad says folk worry more about
things that don't happen than about things that do."
On they went in silence, tense with uncertainty, for another half hour.
Charley was thinking about what Skipper Zeb had said about worry when
they were in the camp at the Duck's Head, and Skipper Zeb's philosophy
helped him to keep his courage.
"Ah!" Toby suddenly shouted to the dogs, and they came to a stop at the
command. "She's gone abroad from the shore!" and he pointed at a long,
black streak of water between the ice and the shore ahead.
"What'll we do?" asked Charley in a frightened voice. "Can't we get to
land?"
"We'll try un to the west'ard," suggested Toby. "The ice'll hold the
shore longer there. 'Tis only half as far from here as we've come from
the p'int this side of Deer Harbour. There's a narrow place in the bay
where I'm thinkin' the ice may clog and hold."
With this he shouted "Ooisht!" to the dogs, and breaking the komatik
loose, "Ouk! Ouk! Ouk!" until they were pointing toward the opposite
shore of the bay, and farther inland.
"And you runs ahead of the dogs now," suggested Toby, "'twill help un to
work faster. I'll push un with the whip. Make toward the Capstan. That's
that round hill you sees over there," and Toby pointed to a lonely
mountain to the westward.
Charley set forth at a trot. His example, aided by Toby's threatening
whip, accelerated the speed of the dogs perceptibly, and the shore began
to loom up. But the sky had clouded, and presently a fine mist of snow
shut out the Capstan, which was Charley's guide, and at last the entire
shore line was clouded from view.
For some time the dogs had persisted in edging toward the right, which
was seaward, though Toby held them to their course with the whip. After
a little while he called to Charley to come back.
"I'm thinkin' you don't go straight since the snow comes and you can't
see the hill," he explained. "I'll be goin' ahead for a bit and you
drive."
"All right," agreed Charley. "I can drive the team, and you'll know the
way better in the snow."
Still the dogs were obstinate. They at once recognized the change in
drivers, and took advantage of Charley's inexperience. Charley used the
whip, but he could not handle it as effectively as a driver should, and
the dogs gave little heed to it. They insisted upon taking an angle to
the right of Toby's trail, and Charley found that he could not
straighten them out upon the trail.
In desperation he ran forward to the side of the team, with the whip
handle clubbed, to compel obedience. Sampson showed his fangs, and
snapped at Charley's legs. This was a signal for open rebellion on the
part of the whole team. They came to a standstill, and faced him,
showing their fangs, and one or two of them sprang at him, but were held
in leash by their traces.
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