Chapter Six.Jack has a Desperate Encounter.We never can tell what a day or an hour may bring forth. This is a solemn fact on which young and old might frequently ponder with advantage, and on which we might enlarge to an unlimited extent; but our space will not admit of moralising very much, therefore we beg the reader to moralise on that, for him—or herself. The subject is none the less important, that circumstances require that it should be touched on in a slight, almost flippant, manner.Had Jack Robinson known what lay before him that evening, he would—he would have been a wiser man! Nothing more appropriate than that occurs to us at this moment. But, to be more particular:—When the party reached the nets, Jack left them to attend to their work, and went off alone to the vats, some of which, measuring about six feet in diameter, were nearly full of fish in pickle.As he walked along the slight track which guided him towards them, he pondered the circumstances in which he then found himself, and, indulging in a habit which he had acquired in his frequent and prolonged periods of solitude, began to mutter his thoughts aloud.“So, so, Jack, you left your farm because you were tired of solitude, and now you find yourself in the midst of society. Pleasant society, truly!—bullies and geese, without a sympathetic mind to rub against. Humph! a pleasant fix you’ve got into, old fellow.”Jack was wrong in this to some extent, as he afterwards came to confess to himself, for among his men there were two or three minds worth cultivating, noble and shrewd, and deep, too, though not educated or refined. But at the time of which we write, Jack did not know this. He went on to soliloquise:“Yes, you’ve got a pretty set to deal with; elements that will cause you enough of trouble before you have done with them. Well, well, don’t give in, old chap. Never say die. If solitude is to be your lot, meet it like a man. Why, they say that solitude of the worst kind is to be found where most people dwell. Has it not been said, that in the great city of London itself a man may be more solitary than in the heart of the wilderness? I’ve read it, but I can’t very well believe it. Yet, theremaybe something in it. Humph! Well, well, Jack, you’re not a philosopher, so don’t try to go too deep; take it easy, and do the best you can.”At this point Jack came suddenly in sight of the vats. They stood in the centre of a cleared space in the forest. On the edge of the largest vat was perched an object which induced our hero to throw forward his fowling-piece hastily. It was a black bear, or rather the hind-quarters of a black bear, for the head and one paw and shoulder of the animal were far down in the vat. He was holding firmly to its edge by the hind legs and one fore-leg, while with the other he was straining his utmost to reach the fish.Jack’s first impulse was to fire, but reflecting that the portion of the bear then in view was not a very vulnerable part, he hesitated, and finally crept behind a tree to consider, feeling confident that whatever should occur he would be pretty sure of getting a favourable opportunity to fire with effect.Quite unconscious of his danger, bruin continued to reach down into the vat with unwearied determination. His efforts were rewarded with success, for he presently appeared on the edge of the vat with a fine salmon in his embrace. Now was Jack’s opportunity. He raised his piece, but remembering Marteau’s remark about the bear’s difficulty in eating salt salmon, he postponed the fatal shot until he should have studied this point in natural history.His forbearance met with a reward, for the bear kept him during the next five minutes in such a state of suppressed laughter, that he could not have taken a steady aim to have saved his life. Its sense of smell was evidently gratified, for on leaping to the ground it took a powerful snuff, and then began to devour the salmon with immense gusto. But the first mouthful produced an expression of countenance that could not be misunderstood. It coughed, spluttered, and sneezed, or at least gave vent to something resembling these sounds, and drew back from the fish with a snarl; then it snuffed again. There was no mistaking the smell. It was delicious! Bruin, disbelieving his sense of taste, and displaying unwise faith in his sense of smell, made another attempt. He had tried the head first; with some show of reason he now tried the tail. Faugh! it was worse than the other; “as salt as fire,” as we have heard it sometimes expressed. The spluttering at this point became excessive, and it was clear that the bear was getting angry. Once again, with an amount of perseverance that deserved better fortune, the bear snuffed heartily at the fish, tore it to shreds with his claws, and then tried another mouthful, which it spat out instantly. Displaying all its teeth and gums, it shut its eyes, and, raising its head in the air, fairly howled with disappointment.Jack now deemed it prudent to bring the scene to a close, so, calming himself as well as he could, he took a steady aim, and, watching his opportunity, fired.The bear did not fall. It faced round in a moment, and, uttering a fierce growl, very unlike to its previous tones, rushed upon its enemy, who fired his second barrel at the creature’s breast. Whether it was that Jack’s fit of laughter had shaken his nerves so as to render him incapable of taking a good aim, is a matter of uncertainty, but although both shots took effect, the bear was not checked in his career. On it came. Jack had no time to load. He turned to run, when his quick eye observed a branch of a tree over his head within reach. Dropping his gun he bounded upwards and caught it, and, being unusually powerful in the arms, drew himself up and got astride of it just as the bear reached the spot. But bruin was not to be baulked so easily. He was a black bear and a good climber. Finding that he could not at his utmost stretch obtain a nibble at Jack’s toes, he rushed at the trunk of the tree and began to ascend rapidly. Jack at once moved towards the end of the branch, intending to drop to the ground, recover his gun and run for it; but the movement broke the branch off suddenly, and he came down with such a crash, that the bear stopped, looked round, and, seeing his enemy on the ground, began to descend.Although somewhat stunned by the fall, our hero was able to spring up and run in the direction of the hut. The bear was so close on his heels, however, that he had no chance of his reaching it. He felt this, and, as a last resource, doubled on his track like a hare and made for the banks of the river, which were twenty feet high at the place, intending to leap into the rapid and take his chance.In this, too, he was foiled. His fall from the tree had partially disabled him, and he could not run with his wonted agility. About ten yards from the edge of the bank the bear overtook him, and it seemed as if poor Jack Robinson’s troubles were at last about to be brought to an abrupt close. But Jack was self-possessed and brave as steel. On feeling the bear’s claws in his back, he drew his knife, wheeled round, fell into its embrace, and plunged the knife three or four times in its side. The thing was done in a moment, and the two, falling together, rolled over the edge of the steep bank, and went crashing down through the bushes amid a cloud of dust and stones into the raging flood below. At the foot of the rapid, Marteau and one of the men happened to be rowing ashore with a load of fish.“Hallo! what’s that?” cried Marteau.“Eh!” exclaimed his comrade.“A bear!” shouted Marteau, backing his oar.“And a man! What! I say!”“Pull! pull!”Next moment the boat was dancing on the foam, and Marteau had hold of the bear’s neck with one hand, and Jack’s hair with the other.They were soon hauled to land, the bear in its dying agonies and Jack in a state of insensibility; but it took the united strength of the two men to tear him from the tremendous grasp that he had fastened on the brute, and his knife was found buried to the handle close alongside of bruin’s heart!
We never can tell what a day or an hour may bring forth. This is a solemn fact on which young and old might frequently ponder with advantage, and on which we might enlarge to an unlimited extent; but our space will not admit of moralising very much, therefore we beg the reader to moralise on that, for him—or herself. The subject is none the less important, that circumstances require that it should be touched on in a slight, almost flippant, manner.
Had Jack Robinson known what lay before him that evening, he would—he would have been a wiser man! Nothing more appropriate than that occurs to us at this moment. But, to be more particular:—
When the party reached the nets, Jack left them to attend to their work, and went off alone to the vats, some of which, measuring about six feet in diameter, were nearly full of fish in pickle.
As he walked along the slight track which guided him towards them, he pondered the circumstances in which he then found himself, and, indulging in a habit which he had acquired in his frequent and prolonged periods of solitude, began to mutter his thoughts aloud.
“So, so, Jack, you left your farm because you were tired of solitude, and now you find yourself in the midst of society. Pleasant society, truly!—bullies and geese, without a sympathetic mind to rub against. Humph! a pleasant fix you’ve got into, old fellow.”
Jack was wrong in this to some extent, as he afterwards came to confess to himself, for among his men there were two or three minds worth cultivating, noble and shrewd, and deep, too, though not educated or refined. But at the time of which we write, Jack did not know this. He went on to soliloquise:
“Yes, you’ve got a pretty set to deal with; elements that will cause you enough of trouble before you have done with them. Well, well, don’t give in, old chap. Never say die. If solitude is to be your lot, meet it like a man. Why, they say that solitude of the worst kind is to be found where most people dwell. Has it not been said, that in the great city of London itself a man may be more solitary than in the heart of the wilderness? I’ve read it, but I can’t very well believe it. Yet, theremaybe something in it. Humph! Well, well, Jack, you’re not a philosopher, so don’t try to go too deep; take it easy, and do the best you can.”
At this point Jack came suddenly in sight of the vats. They stood in the centre of a cleared space in the forest. On the edge of the largest vat was perched an object which induced our hero to throw forward his fowling-piece hastily. It was a black bear, or rather the hind-quarters of a black bear, for the head and one paw and shoulder of the animal were far down in the vat. He was holding firmly to its edge by the hind legs and one fore-leg, while with the other he was straining his utmost to reach the fish.
Jack’s first impulse was to fire, but reflecting that the portion of the bear then in view was not a very vulnerable part, he hesitated, and finally crept behind a tree to consider, feeling confident that whatever should occur he would be pretty sure of getting a favourable opportunity to fire with effect.
Quite unconscious of his danger, bruin continued to reach down into the vat with unwearied determination. His efforts were rewarded with success, for he presently appeared on the edge of the vat with a fine salmon in his embrace. Now was Jack’s opportunity. He raised his piece, but remembering Marteau’s remark about the bear’s difficulty in eating salt salmon, he postponed the fatal shot until he should have studied this point in natural history.
His forbearance met with a reward, for the bear kept him during the next five minutes in such a state of suppressed laughter, that he could not have taken a steady aim to have saved his life. Its sense of smell was evidently gratified, for on leaping to the ground it took a powerful snuff, and then began to devour the salmon with immense gusto. But the first mouthful produced an expression of countenance that could not be misunderstood. It coughed, spluttered, and sneezed, or at least gave vent to something resembling these sounds, and drew back from the fish with a snarl; then it snuffed again. There was no mistaking the smell. It was delicious! Bruin, disbelieving his sense of taste, and displaying unwise faith in his sense of smell, made another attempt. He had tried the head first; with some show of reason he now tried the tail. Faugh! it was worse than the other; “as salt as fire,” as we have heard it sometimes expressed. The spluttering at this point became excessive, and it was clear that the bear was getting angry. Once again, with an amount of perseverance that deserved better fortune, the bear snuffed heartily at the fish, tore it to shreds with his claws, and then tried another mouthful, which it spat out instantly. Displaying all its teeth and gums, it shut its eyes, and, raising its head in the air, fairly howled with disappointment.
Jack now deemed it prudent to bring the scene to a close, so, calming himself as well as he could, he took a steady aim, and, watching his opportunity, fired.
The bear did not fall. It faced round in a moment, and, uttering a fierce growl, very unlike to its previous tones, rushed upon its enemy, who fired his second barrel at the creature’s breast. Whether it was that Jack’s fit of laughter had shaken his nerves so as to render him incapable of taking a good aim, is a matter of uncertainty, but although both shots took effect, the bear was not checked in his career. On it came. Jack had no time to load. He turned to run, when his quick eye observed a branch of a tree over his head within reach. Dropping his gun he bounded upwards and caught it, and, being unusually powerful in the arms, drew himself up and got astride of it just as the bear reached the spot. But bruin was not to be baulked so easily. He was a black bear and a good climber. Finding that he could not at his utmost stretch obtain a nibble at Jack’s toes, he rushed at the trunk of the tree and began to ascend rapidly. Jack at once moved towards the end of the branch, intending to drop to the ground, recover his gun and run for it; but the movement broke the branch off suddenly, and he came down with such a crash, that the bear stopped, looked round, and, seeing his enemy on the ground, began to descend.
Although somewhat stunned by the fall, our hero was able to spring up and run in the direction of the hut. The bear was so close on his heels, however, that he had no chance of his reaching it. He felt this, and, as a last resource, doubled on his track like a hare and made for the banks of the river, which were twenty feet high at the place, intending to leap into the rapid and take his chance.
In this, too, he was foiled. His fall from the tree had partially disabled him, and he could not run with his wonted agility. About ten yards from the edge of the bank the bear overtook him, and it seemed as if poor Jack Robinson’s troubles were at last about to be brought to an abrupt close. But Jack was self-possessed and brave as steel. On feeling the bear’s claws in his back, he drew his knife, wheeled round, fell into its embrace, and plunged the knife three or four times in its side. The thing was done in a moment, and the two, falling together, rolled over the edge of the steep bank, and went crashing down through the bushes amid a cloud of dust and stones into the raging flood below. At the foot of the rapid, Marteau and one of the men happened to be rowing ashore with a load of fish.
“Hallo! what’s that?” cried Marteau.
“Eh!” exclaimed his comrade.
“A bear!” shouted Marteau, backing his oar.
“And a man! What! I say!”
“Pull! pull!”
Next moment the boat was dancing on the foam, and Marteau had hold of the bear’s neck with one hand, and Jack’s hair with the other.
They were soon hauled to land, the bear in its dying agonies and Jack in a state of insensibility; but it took the united strength of the two men to tear him from the tremendous grasp that he had fastened on the brute, and his knife was found buried to the handle close alongside of bruin’s heart!
Chapter Seven.Solitude.On the day of his encounter with the bear, Jack Robinson sent Rollo up to the fort to fetch down all the men except O’Donel, in order that the fishery might be carried on with vigour.Of course it is unnecessary to inform the reader that Jack speedily recovered from the effects of his adventure. It would be absurd to suppose that anything of an ordinary nature could kill or even do much damage to our hero. Beyond five deep punctures on his back and five on his breast, besides a bite in the shoulder, Jack had received no damage, and was able to return on foot to Fort Desolation a few days after the event.On arriving, he found his man, Teddy O’Donel, sitting over the kitchen fire in the last stage of an attack of deep depression and home sickness. Jack’s sudden appearance wrought an instantaneous cure.“Ah!” said he, grasping his master’s hand and wringing it warmly; “it’s a blessed sight for sore eyes! Sure I’ve bin all but dead, sur, since ye wint away.”“You’ve not been ill, have you?” said Jack, looking somewhat earnestly in the man’s face.“Ill? No, not i’ the body, if that’s what ye mane, but I’ve been awful bad i’ the mind. It’s the intellect as kills men more nor the body. The sowl is what does it all.” (Here Teddy passed his hand across his forehead and looked haggard.) “Ah! Mr Robinson, it’s myself as’ll niver do to live alone. I do belave that all the ghosts as iver lived have come and took up there abode in this kitchen.”“Nonsense!” said Jack, sitting down on a stool beside the fire and filling his pipe; “you’re too superstitious.”“Supperstitious, is it?” exclaimed the man, with a look of intense gravity. “Faix, if ye seed them ye’d change yer tune. It’s the noses of ’em as is wust. Of all the noses for length and redness and for blowin’ like trumpets I ever did see—well, well, it’s no use conjicturin’, but I do wonder sometimes what guv the ghosts sitch noses.”“I suppose theyknowsthat best themselves,” observed Jack.“P’r’aps they does,” replied Teddy with a meditative gaze at the fire.“But I rather suspect,” continued Jack, “that as your own nose is somewhat long and red, and as you’ve got a habit of squinting, not to mention snoring, Teddy, we may be justified in accounting for the—”“Ah! it’s no use jokin’,” interrupted O’Donel; “ye’ll niver joke me out o’ my belaif in ghosts. It’s no longer agone than last night, after tay, I laid me down on the floor beside the fire in sitch a state o’ moloncholly weakness, that I really tried to die. It’s true for ye; and I belave I’d have done it, too, av I hadn’t wint off to slape by mistake, an’ whin I awoke, I was so cowld and hungry that I thought I’d pusspone dyin’ till after supper. I got better after supper, but, och! it’s a hard thing to live all be yer lone like this.”“Have no Indians been here since I left?”“Not wan, sur.”“Well, Teddy, I will keep you company now. We shall be alone here together for a few weeks, as I mean to leave all our lads at the fishery. Meanwhile, bestir yourself and let me have supper.”During the next few weeks Jack Robinson was very busy. Being an extremely active man, he soon did every conceivable thing that had to be done about the fort, and conceived, as well as did, a good many things that did not require to be done. While rummaging in the stores, he discovered a hand-net, with which he waded into the sea and caught large quantities of small fish, about four inches in length, resembling herrings. These he salted and dried in the sun, and thus improved his fare,—for, having only salt pork and fresh salmon, he felt the need of a little variety. Indeed, he had already begun to get tired of salmon, insomuch that he greatly preferred salt pork.After that, he scraped together a sufficient number of old planks, and built therewith a flat-bottomed boat—a vessel much wanted at the place. But, do what he would, time hung very heavy on his hands, even although he made as much of a companion of Teddy O’Donel, as was consistent with his dignity. The season for wild fowl had not arrived, and he soon got tired of going out with his gun, with the certainty of returning empty-handed.At last there was a brief break in the monotony of the daily life at Fort Desolation. A band of Indians came with a good supply of furs. They were not a very high type of human beings, had little to say, and did not seem disposed to say it. But they wanted goods from Jack, and Jack wanted furs from them; so their presence during the two days and nights they stayed shed a glow of moral sunshine over the fort that made its inhabitants as light-hearted and joyful as though some unwonted piece of good fortune had befallen them.When the Indians went away, however, the gloom was proportionally deeper, Jack and his man sounded lower depths of despair than they had ever before fathomed, and the latter began to make frequent allusions to the possibility of making away with himself. Indeed, he did one evening, while he and Jack stood silently on the shore together, propose that they should go into the bush behind the fort, cover themselves over with leaves, and perish “at wance, like the babes in the wood.”Things were in this gloomy condition, when an event occurred, which, although not of great importance in itself, made such a deep impression on the dwellers at Fort Desolation, that it is worthy of a chapter to itself.
On the day of his encounter with the bear, Jack Robinson sent Rollo up to the fort to fetch down all the men except O’Donel, in order that the fishery might be carried on with vigour.
Of course it is unnecessary to inform the reader that Jack speedily recovered from the effects of his adventure. It would be absurd to suppose that anything of an ordinary nature could kill or even do much damage to our hero. Beyond five deep punctures on his back and five on his breast, besides a bite in the shoulder, Jack had received no damage, and was able to return on foot to Fort Desolation a few days after the event.
On arriving, he found his man, Teddy O’Donel, sitting over the kitchen fire in the last stage of an attack of deep depression and home sickness. Jack’s sudden appearance wrought an instantaneous cure.
“Ah!” said he, grasping his master’s hand and wringing it warmly; “it’s a blessed sight for sore eyes! Sure I’ve bin all but dead, sur, since ye wint away.”
“You’ve not been ill, have you?” said Jack, looking somewhat earnestly in the man’s face.
“Ill? No, not i’ the body, if that’s what ye mane, but I’ve been awful bad i’ the mind. It’s the intellect as kills men more nor the body. The sowl is what does it all.” (Here Teddy passed his hand across his forehead and looked haggard.) “Ah! Mr Robinson, it’s myself as’ll niver do to live alone. I do belave that all the ghosts as iver lived have come and took up there abode in this kitchen.”
“Nonsense!” said Jack, sitting down on a stool beside the fire and filling his pipe; “you’re too superstitious.”
“Supperstitious, is it?” exclaimed the man, with a look of intense gravity. “Faix, if ye seed them ye’d change yer tune. It’s the noses of ’em as is wust. Of all the noses for length and redness and for blowin’ like trumpets I ever did see—well, well, it’s no use conjicturin’, but I do wonder sometimes what guv the ghosts sitch noses.”
“I suppose theyknowsthat best themselves,” observed Jack.
“P’r’aps they does,” replied Teddy with a meditative gaze at the fire.
“But I rather suspect,” continued Jack, “that as your own nose is somewhat long and red, and as you’ve got a habit of squinting, not to mention snoring, Teddy, we may be justified in accounting for the—”
“Ah! it’s no use jokin’,” interrupted O’Donel; “ye’ll niver joke me out o’ my belaif in ghosts. It’s no longer agone than last night, after tay, I laid me down on the floor beside the fire in sitch a state o’ moloncholly weakness, that I really tried to die. It’s true for ye; and I belave I’d have done it, too, av I hadn’t wint off to slape by mistake, an’ whin I awoke, I was so cowld and hungry that I thought I’d pusspone dyin’ till after supper. I got better after supper, but, och! it’s a hard thing to live all be yer lone like this.”
“Have no Indians been here since I left?”
“Not wan, sur.”
“Well, Teddy, I will keep you company now. We shall be alone here together for a few weeks, as I mean to leave all our lads at the fishery. Meanwhile, bestir yourself and let me have supper.”
During the next few weeks Jack Robinson was very busy. Being an extremely active man, he soon did every conceivable thing that had to be done about the fort, and conceived, as well as did, a good many things that did not require to be done. While rummaging in the stores, he discovered a hand-net, with which he waded into the sea and caught large quantities of small fish, about four inches in length, resembling herrings. These he salted and dried in the sun, and thus improved his fare,—for, having only salt pork and fresh salmon, he felt the need of a little variety. Indeed, he had already begun to get tired of salmon, insomuch that he greatly preferred salt pork.
After that, he scraped together a sufficient number of old planks, and built therewith a flat-bottomed boat—a vessel much wanted at the place. But, do what he would, time hung very heavy on his hands, even although he made as much of a companion of Teddy O’Donel, as was consistent with his dignity. The season for wild fowl had not arrived, and he soon got tired of going out with his gun, with the certainty of returning empty-handed.
At last there was a brief break in the monotony of the daily life at Fort Desolation. A band of Indians came with a good supply of furs. They were not a very high type of human beings, had little to say, and did not seem disposed to say it. But they wanted goods from Jack, and Jack wanted furs from them; so their presence during the two days and nights they stayed shed a glow of moral sunshine over the fort that made its inhabitants as light-hearted and joyful as though some unwonted piece of good fortune had befallen them.
When the Indians went away, however, the gloom was proportionally deeper, Jack and his man sounded lower depths of despair than they had ever before fathomed, and the latter began to make frequent allusions to the possibility of making away with himself. Indeed, he did one evening, while he and Jack stood silently on the shore together, propose that they should go into the bush behind the fort, cover themselves over with leaves, and perish “at wance, like the babes in the wood.”
Things were in this gloomy condition, when an event occurred, which, although not of great importance in itself, made such a deep impression on the dwellers at Fort Desolation, that it is worthy of a chapter to itself.
Chapter Eight.Horrors.One morning the sun rose with unwonted splendour on the broad bosom of the Saint Lawrence. The gulf was like a mirror, in which the images of the seagulls were as perfect as the birds themselves, and the warm hazy atmosphere was lighted up so brightly by the sun, that it seemed as though the world were enveloped in delicate golden gauze.Jack Robinson stood on the shore, with the exile of Erin beside him. Strange to say, the effect of this lovely scene on both was the reverse of gladdening.“It’sverysad,” said Jack, slowly.“True for ye,” observed the sympathising Teddy, supposing that his master had finished his remark.“It’sverysad,” repeated Jack, “to look abroad upon this lovely world, and know that thousands of our fellow-men are enjoying it in each other’s society, while we are self-exiled here.”“An’ so it is,” said Teddy, “not to mintion our fellow-women an’ our fellow-childers to boot.”“To be sure we have got each other’s society, O’Donel,” continued Jack, “and the society of the gulls—”“An’ the fush,” interposed Teddy.“And the fish,” assented Jack; “for all of which blessings we have cause to be thankful; but it’s my opinion that you and I are a couple of egregious asses for having forsaken our kind and come to vegetate here in the wilderness.”“That’s just how it is, sur. We’re both on us big asses, an’ it’s a pint for investigation which on us is the biggest—you, who ought to have know’d better, or me, as niver kno’w’d anything, a’most, to spake of.”Jack smiled. He was much too deeply depressed to laugh. For some minutes they stood gazing in silent despondency at the sea.“What’s that?” exclaimed Jack, with sudden animation, pointing to an object which appeared at the moment near the extremity of a point of rocks not far from the spot where they stood—“a canoe?”“Two of ’em!” cried O’Donel, as another object came into view.The change which came over the countenances of the two men, as they stood watching the approach of the two canoes, would have been incomprehensible to any one not acquainted with the effect of solitude on the human mind. They did not exactly caper on the beach, but they felt inclined to do so, and their heaving bosoms and sparkling eyes told of the depth of emotion within.In about a quarter of an hour the canoes were within a short distance of the landing-place, but no shout or sign of recognition came from the Indians who paddled them. There was an Indian in the bow and stern of each canoe, and a woman in the middle of one of them.“Well, boys, what cheer?” said Jack, using a well-known backwood’s salutation, as the men landed.The Indians silently took the proffered hand of the trader and shook it, replying in a low voice, “Wachee,” as the nearest point they could attain to the pronunciation of “What cheer?”There was something so unusually solemn in the air and manner of the savages, that Jack glanced at the canoe in which the woman sat. There he saw what explained the mystery. In the bottom lay an object wrapped up in pieces of old cloth and birchbark, which, from its form, was evidently a human body. A few words with the Indians soon drew from them the information that this was one of their wives who had been ailing for a long time, and at length had died. They were Roman Catholic converts, and had come to bury the body in the graveyard of the fort which had been “consecrated” by a priest.To whatever pitch of excitement Jack and his man had risen at the unexpected appearance of the Indians, their spirits fell to an immeasurably profounder depth than before when their errand was made known.Everything connected with this burial was sad and repulsive, yet Jack and his man felt constrained, out of mere sympathy, to witness it all.The Indians were shabby and squalid in the extreme, and, being destitute of the means of making a coffin, had rolled the corpse up in such wretched materials as they happened to possess. One consequence of this was, that it was quite supple. On being lifted out of the canoe, the joints bent, and a sort of noise was emitted from the mouth, which was exceedingly horrible. Had the dead face been visible, the effect would not have been so powerful, but its being covered tended to set the imagination free to conceive things still more dreadful.The grave was soon dug in the sand inside the graveyard, which was not more than a hundred yards on one side of the fort. Here, without ceremony of any kind, the poor form was laid and covered over. While being lowered into the grave, the same doubling-up of the frame and the same noise were observed. After all was over, the Indians returned to their canoe and paddled away, silently, as they had come; not before Jack, however, had gone to the store for a large piece of tobacco, which he threw to them as they were pushing off.During the remainder of that day, Jack Robinson and his man went about their vocations with hearts heavy as lead. But it was not till night that this depression of spirits culminated. For the first time in his life Jack Robinson became superstitiously nervous. As for Teddy O’Donel, he had seldom been entirely free from this condition during any night of his existence; but he was much worse than usual on the present occasion!After sunset, Jack had his tea alone in the hall, while O’Donel took his—also, of course, alone—in the kitchen. Tea over, Jack sat down and wrote part of a journal which he was in the habit of posting up irregularly. Then he went into the kitchen to give Teddy his orders for the following day, and stayed longer than usual. Thereafter, he read parts of one or two books which he had brought with him from the civilised world. But, do what he would, the image of the dead woman lying so near him invariably came between him and the page, and obtruded itself on his mind obstinately. Once he was so exasperated while reading, that he jumped violently off his chair, exclaiming, “This is childish nonsense!” In doing so he tilted the chair over, so that it balanced for an instant on its hind legs, and then fell with an awful crash, which caused him to leap at least three feet forward, clench his fists, and wheel round with a look of fury that would certainly have put to flight anyrealghost in creation.Jack gasped, then he sighed, after which he smiled and began to pace the hall slowly. At last he said, half aloud, “I think I’ll smoke my pipe to-night with that poor fellow, O’Donel. He must be lonely enough, and I don’t often condescend to be social.”Taking up his pipe and tobacco-pouch, he went towards the kitchen.Now, while his master was enduring those uncomfortable feelings in the hall, Teddy was undergoing torments in the kitchen that are past description. He had had a grandmother—with no nose to speak of, a mouth large enough for two, four teeth, and one eye—who had stuffed him in his youth with horrible stories as full as a doll is of sawdust. That old lady’s influence was now strong upon him. Every gust of wind that rumbled in the chimney sent a qualm to his heart. Every creak in the beams of his wooden kitchen startled his soul. Every accidental noise that occurred filled him with unutterable horror. The door, being clumsily made, fitted badly in all its parts, so that it shook and rattled in a perfectly heartrending manner.Teddy resolved to cure this. He stuck bits of wood in the opening between it and the floor, besides jamming several nails in at the sides and top. Still, the latchwouldrattle, being complicated in construction, and not easily checked in all its parts. But Teddy was an ingenious fellow. He settled the latch by stuffing it and covering it with a mass of dough! In order further to secure things, he placed a small table against the door, and then sat down on a bench to smoke his pipe beside the door.It was at this point in the evening that Jack resolved, as we have said, to be condescending.As he had hitherto very seldom smoked his pipe in the kitchen, his footstep in the passage caused O’Donel’s very marrow to quake. He turned as pale as death and became rigid with terror, so that he resembled nothing but an Irish statue of very dirty and discoloured marble.When Jack put his hand on the latch, Teddy gasped once—he was incapable of more! The vision of the poor Indian woman rose before his mental eye, and he—well, it’s of no use to attempt saying what he thought or felt!The obstruction in the latch puzzled Jack not a little. He was surprised at its stiffness. The passage between the hall and kitchen was rather dark, so that he was somewhat nervous and impatient to open the door. It happened that he had left the door by which he had quitted the hall partially open. A gust of wind shut this with a bang that sent every drop of blood into his heart, whence it rebounded into his extremities. The impulse thus communicated to his hand was irresistible. The door was burst in; as a matter of course the table was hurled into the middle of the kitchen, where it was violently arrested by the stove. Poor Teddy O’Donel, unable to stand it any longer, toppled backwards over the bench with a hideous yell, and fell headlong into a mass of pans, kettles, and firewood, where he lay sprawling and roaring at the full power of his lungs, and keeping up an irregular discharge of such things as came to hand at the supposed ghost, who sheltered himself as he best might behind the stove.“Hold hard, you frightened ass!” shouted Jack as a billet of wood whizzed over his head.“Eh! what? It’syou, sur? O, musha, av I didn’t belave it was the ghost at last!”“I tell you what, my man,” said Jack, who was a good deal nettled at his reception, “I would advise you to make sure that itisa ghost next time before you shie pots and kettles about in that way. See what a smash you have made. Why, what on earth have you been doing to the door?”“Sure I only stuffed up the kayhole to keep out the wind.”“Humph! and the ghosts, I suppose. Well, see that you are up betimes to-morrow and have these salmon nets looked over and repaired.”So saying, Jack turned on his heel and left the room, feeling too much annoyed to carry out his original intention of smoking a pipe with his man. He spent the evening, therefore, in reading a pocket copy of Shakespeare, and retired to rest at the usual hour in a more composed frame of mind, and rather inclined to laugh at his superstitious fears.It happened, unfortunately, that from his window, as he lay on his bed, Jack could see the graveyard. This fact had never been noticed by him before, although he had lain there nightly since his arrival, and looked over the yard to the beach and the sea beyond. Now, the night being bright moonlight, he could see it with appalling distinctness. Sleep was banished from his eyes, and although he frequently turned with resolution to the wall and shut them, he was invariably brought back to his old position as if by a species of fascination.Meanwhile Teddy O’Donel lay absolutely quaking in the kitchen. Unable to endure it, he at last rose, opened the door softly, and creeping up as near us he dared venture to his master’s door, sat down there, as he said, “for company.” In course of time he fell asleep.Jack, being more imaginative, remained awake. Presently he saw a figure moving near the churchyard. It was white—at least the upper half of it was.“Pshaw! this is positive folly; my digestion must be out of order,” muttered Jack, rubbing his eyes; but the rubbing did not dissipate the figure which moved past the yard and approached the fort. At that moment Teddy O’Donel gave vent to a prolonged snore. Delivered as it was against the wooden step on which his nose was flattened, it sounded dreadfully like a groan. Almost mad with indignation and alarm, Jack Robinson leaped from his bed and pulled on his trousers, resolved to bring things to an issue of some sort.He threw open his chamber door with violence and descended the staircase noisily, intending to arouse his man. Hedidarouse him, effectually, by placing his foot on the back of his head and crushing his face against the steps with such force as to produce a roar that would have put to shame the war-whoop of the wildest savage in America.In endeavouring to recover himself, Jack fell upon Teddy and they rolled head-over-heels down the steps together towards the door of the house, which was opened at that instant by Ladoc, who had walked up to the fort, clad only in his shirt and trousers, (the night being warm), to give a report of the condition of things at the fishery, where he and Rollo had quarrelled, and the men generally were in a state of mutiny.
One morning the sun rose with unwonted splendour on the broad bosom of the Saint Lawrence. The gulf was like a mirror, in which the images of the seagulls were as perfect as the birds themselves, and the warm hazy atmosphere was lighted up so brightly by the sun, that it seemed as though the world were enveloped in delicate golden gauze.
Jack Robinson stood on the shore, with the exile of Erin beside him. Strange to say, the effect of this lovely scene on both was the reverse of gladdening.
“It’sverysad,” said Jack, slowly.
“True for ye,” observed the sympathising Teddy, supposing that his master had finished his remark.
“It’sverysad,” repeated Jack, “to look abroad upon this lovely world, and know that thousands of our fellow-men are enjoying it in each other’s society, while we are self-exiled here.”
“An’ so it is,” said Teddy, “not to mintion our fellow-women an’ our fellow-childers to boot.”
“To be sure we have got each other’s society, O’Donel,” continued Jack, “and the society of the gulls—”
“An’ the fush,” interposed Teddy.
“And the fish,” assented Jack; “for all of which blessings we have cause to be thankful; but it’s my opinion that you and I are a couple of egregious asses for having forsaken our kind and come to vegetate here in the wilderness.”
“That’s just how it is, sur. We’re both on us big asses, an’ it’s a pint for investigation which on us is the biggest—you, who ought to have know’d better, or me, as niver kno’w’d anything, a’most, to spake of.”
Jack smiled. He was much too deeply depressed to laugh. For some minutes they stood gazing in silent despondency at the sea.
“What’s that?” exclaimed Jack, with sudden animation, pointing to an object which appeared at the moment near the extremity of a point of rocks not far from the spot where they stood—“a canoe?”
“Two of ’em!” cried O’Donel, as another object came into view.
The change which came over the countenances of the two men, as they stood watching the approach of the two canoes, would have been incomprehensible to any one not acquainted with the effect of solitude on the human mind. They did not exactly caper on the beach, but they felt inclined to do so, and their heaving bosoms and sparkling eyes told of the depth of emotion within.
In about a quarter of an hour the canoes were within a short distance of the landing-place, but no shout or sign of recognition came from the Indians who paddled them. There was an Indian in the bow and stern of each canoe, and a woman in the middle of one of them.
“Well, boys, what cheer?” said Jack, using a well-known backwood’s salutation, as the men landed.
The Indians silently took the proffered hand of the trader and shook it, replying in a low voice, “Wachee,” as the nearest point they could attain to the pronunciation of “What cheer?”
There was something so unusually solemn in the air and manner of the savages, that Jack glanced at the canoe in which the woman sat. There he saw what explained the mystery. In the bottom lay an object wrapped up in pieces of old cloth and birchbark, which, from its form, was evidently a human body. A few words with the Indians soon drew from them the information that this was one of their wives who had been ailing for a long time, and at length had died. They were Roman Catholic converts, and had come to bury the body in the graveyard of the fort which had been “consecrated” by a priest.
To whatever pitch of excitement Jack and his man had risen at the unexpected appearance of the Indians, their spirits fell to an immeasurably profounder depth than before when their errand was made known.
Everything connected with this burial was sad and repulsive, yet Jack and his man felt constrained, out of mere sympathy, to witness it all.
The Indians were shabby and squalid in the extreme, and, being destitute of the means of making a coffin, had rolled the corpse up in such wretched materials as they happened to possess. One consequence of this was, that it was quite supple. On being lifted out of the canoe, the joints bent, and a sort of noise was emitted from the mouth, which was exceedingly horrible. Had the dead face been visible, the effect would not have been so powerful, but its being covered tended to set the imagination free to conceive things still more dreadful.
The grave was soon dug in the sand inside the graveyard, which was not more than a hundred yards on one side of the fort. Here, without ceremony of any kind, the poor form was laid and covered over. While being lowered into the grave, the same doubling-up of the frame and the same noise were observed. After all was over, the Indians returned to their canoe and paddled away, silently, as they had come; not before Jack, however, had gone to the store for a large piece of tobacco, which he threw to them as they were pushing off.
During the remainder of that day, Jack Robinson and his man went about their vocations with hearts heavy as lead. But it was not till night that this depression of spirits culminated. For the first time in his life Jack Robinson became superstitiously nervous. As for Teddy O’Donel, he had seldom been entirely free from this condition during any night of his existence; but he was much worse than usual on the present occasion!
After sunset, Jack had his tea alone in the hall, while O’Donel took his—also, of course, alone—in the kitchen. Tea over, Jack sat down and wrote part of a journal which he was in the habit of posting up irregularly. Then he went into the kitchen to give Teddy his orders for the following day, and stayed longer than usual. Thereafter, he read parts of one or two books which he had brought with him from the civilised world. But, do what he would, the image of the dead woman lying so near him invariably came between him and the page, and obtruded itself on his mind obstinately. Once he was so exasperated while reading, that he jumped violently off his chair, exclaiming, “This is childish nonsense!” In doing so he tilted the chair over, so that it balanced for an instant on its hind legs, and then fell with an awful crash, which caused him to leap at least three feet forward, clench his fists, and wheel round with a look of fury that would certainly have put to flight anyrealghost in creation.
Jack gasped, then he sighed, after which he smiled and began to pace the hall slowly. At last he said, half aloud, “I think I’ll smoke my pipe to-night with that poor fellow, O’Donel. He must be lonely enough, and I don’t often condescend to be social.”
Taking up his pipe and tobacco-pouch, he went towards the kitchen.
Now, while his master was enduring those uncomfortable feelings in the hall, Teddy was undergoing torments in the kitchen that are past description. He had had a grandmother—with no nose to speak of, a mouth large enough for two, four teeth, and one eye—who had stuffed him in his youth with horrible stories as full as a doll is of sawdust. That old lady’s influence was now strong upon him. Every gust of wind that rumbled in the chimney sent a qualm to his heart. Every creak in the beams of his wooden kitchen startled his soul. Every accidental noise that occurred filled him with unutterable horror. The door, being clumsily made, fitted badly in all its parts, so that it shook and rattled in a perfectly heartrending manner.
Teddy resolved to cure this. He stuck bits of wood in the opening between it and the floor, besides jamming several nails in at the sides and top. Still, the latchwouldrattle, being complicated in construction, and not easily checked in all its parts. But Teddy was an ingenious fellow. He settled the latch by stuffing it and covering it with a mass of dough! In order further to secure things, he placed a small table against the door, and then sat down on a bench to smoke his pipe beside the door.
It was at this point in the evening that Jack resolved, as we have said, to be condescending.
As he had hitherto very seldom smoked his pipe in the kitchen, his footstep in the passage caused O’Donel’s very marrow to quake. He turned as pale as death and became rigid with terror, so that he resembled nothing but an Irish statue of very dirty and discoloured marble.
When Jack put his hand on the latch, Teddy gasped once—he was incapable of more! The vision of the poor Indian woman rose before his mental eye, and he—well, it’s of no use to attempt saying what he thought or felt!
The obstruction in the latch puzzled Jack not a little. He was surprised at its stiffness. The passage between the hall and kitchen was rather dark, so that he was somewhat nervous and impatient to open the door. It happened that he had left the door by which he had quitted the hall partially open. A gust of wind shut this with a bang that sent every drop of blood into his heart, whence it rebounded into his extremities. The impulse thus communicated to his hand was irresistible. The door was burst in; as a matter of course the table was hurled into the middle of the kitchen, where it was violently arrested by the stove. Poor Teddy O’Donel, unable to stand it any longer, toppled backwards over the bench with a hideous yell, and fell headlong into a mass of pans, kettles, and firewood, where he lay sprawling and roaring at the full power of his lungs, and keeping up an irregular discharge of such things as came to hand at the supposed ghost, who sheltered himself as he best might behind the stove.
“Hold hard, you frightened ass!” shouted Jack as a billet of wood whizzed over his head.
“Eh! what? It’syou, sur? O, musha, av I didn’t belave it was the ghost at last!”
“I tell you what, my man,” said Jack, who was a good deal nettled at his reception, “I would advise you to make sure that itisa ghost next time before you shie pots and kettles about in that way. See what a smash you have made. Why, what on earth have you been doing to the door?”
“Sure I only stuffed up the kayhole to keep out the wind.”
“Humph! and the ghosts, I suppose. Well, see that you are up betimes to-morrow and have these salmon nets looked over and repaired.”
So saying, Jack turned on his heel and left the room, feeling too much annoyed to carry out his original intention of smoking a pipe with his man. He spent the evening, therefore, in reading a pocket copy of Shakespeare, and retired to rest at the usual hour in a more composed frame of mind, and rather inclined to laugh at his superstitious fears.
It happened, unfortunately, that from his window, as he lay on his bed, Jack could see the graveyard. This fact had never been noticed by him before, although he had lain there nightly since his arrival, and looked over the yard to the beach and the sea beyond. Now, the night being bright moonlight, he could see it with appalling distinctness. Sleep was banished from his eyes, and although he frequently turned with resolution to the wall and shut them, he was invariably brought back to his old position as if by a species of fascination.
Meanwhile Teddy O’Donel lay absolutely quaking in the kitchen. Unable to endure it, he at last rose, opened the door softly, and creeping up as near us he dared venture to his master’s door, sat down there, as he said, “for company.” In course of time he fell asleep.
Jack, being more imaginative, remained awake. Presently he saw a figure moving near the churchyard. It was white—at least the upper half of it was.
“Pshaw! this is positive folly; my digestion must be out of order,” muttered Jack, rubbing his eyes; but the rubbing did not dissipate the figure which moved past the yard and approached the fort. At that moment Teddy O’Donel gave vent to a prolonged snore. Delivered as it was against the wooden step on which his nose was flattened, it sounded dreadfully like a groan. Almost mad with indignation and alarm, Jack Robinson leaped from his bed and pulled on his trousers, resolved to bring things to an issue of some sort.
He threw open his chamber door with violence and descended the staircase noisily, intending to arouse his man. Hedidarouse him, effectually, by placing his foot on the back of his head and crushing his face against the steps with such force as to produce a roar that would have put to shame the war-whoop of the wildest savage in America.
In endeavouring to recover himself, Jack fell upon Teddy and they rolled head-over-heels down the steps together towards the door of the house, which was opened at that instant by Ladoc, who had walked up to the fort, clad only in his shirt and trousers, (the night being warm), to give a report of the condition of things at the fishery, where he and Rollo had quarrelled, and the men generally were in a state of mutiny.
Chapter Nine.The Bully receives a Lesson.We regret to be compelled to chronicle the fact, that Jack Robinson lost command of his temper on the occasion referred to in the last chapter. He and Teddy O’Donel rolled to the very feet of the amazed Ladoc, before the force of their fall was expended. They sprang up instantly, and Jack dealt the Irishman an open-handed box on the ear that sent him staggering against one of the pillars of the verandah, and resounded in the still night air like a pistol-shot. Poor Teddy would have fired up under other circumstances, but he felt so deeply ashamed of having caused the undignified mishap to his master, that he pocketed the affront, and quietly retired towards his kitchen. On his way thither, however, he was arrested by the tremendous tone in which Jack demanded of Ladoc the reason of his appearance at such an untimely hour.There was a slight dash of insolence in the man’s reply.“I come up, monsieur,” said he, “to tell you if there betwomasters at fishery,Inot be one of ’em. Rollo tink he do vat him please, mais I say, no; so ve quarrel.”“And so, you take upon you to desert your post,” thundered Jack.“Vraiment, oui,” coolly replied Ladoc.Jack clenched his fist and sprang at the man as a bull-terrier might leap on a mastiff. Almost in the act of striking he changed his mind, and, instead of delivering one of those scientific blows with which he had on more than one occasion in his past history terminated a fight at its very commencement, he seized Ladoc by the throat, tripped up his heels, and hurled him to the ground with such force, that he lay quite still for at least half a minute! Leaving him there to the care of O’Donel, who had returned, Jack went up to his bedroom, shut the door, thrust his hands into his pockets, and began to pace the floor rapidly, and to shake his head. Gradually his pace became slower, and the shaking of his head more sedate. Presently he soliloquised in an undertone.“This won’t do, John Robinson. You’ve let off too much steam. Quite against your principles to be so violent—shame on you, man. Yet after all it was very provoking to be made such a fool of before that insolent fellow. Poor Teddy—I wish I hadn’t hit you such a slap. But, after all, you deserved it, you superstitious blockhead. Well, well, it’s of no use regretting. Glad I didn’t hit Ladoc, though, it’s too soon forthat. Humph! the time has come for action, however. Things are drawing to a point. They shall culminateto-morrow. Let me see.”Here Jack’s tones became inaudible, and he began to complete his toilette. His thoughts were busy—to judge from his knitted brows and compressed lips. The decision of his motions at last showed that he had made up his mind to a course of action.It was with a cleared brow and a self-possessed expression of countenance that he descended, a few minutes later, to the hall, and summoned O’Donel.That worthy, on making his appearance, looked confused, and began to stammer out—“I beg parding, sur, but—but raally, you know—it, it was all owin’ to them abominable ghosts.”Jack smiled, or rather, tried to smile, but owing to conflicting emotions the attempt resulted in a grin.“Let bygones be bygones,” he said, “and send Ladoc here.”Ladoc entered with a defiant expression, which was evidently somewhat forced.Jack was seated at a table, turning over some papers. Without raising his head, he said—“Be prepared to start for the fishery with me in half-an-hour, Ladoc.”“Monsieur?” exclaimed the man, with a look of surprise.Jack raised his head andlookedat him. It was one of his peculiar looks.“Did you not understand me?” he said, jumping up suddenly.Ladoc vanished with an abrupt, “Oui, monsieur,” and Jack proceeded, with arealsmile on his good-humoured face, to equip himself for the road.In half an hour the two were walking silently side by side at a smart pace towards the fishery, while poor Teddy O’Donel was left, as he afterwards said, “all be his lone wid the ghost and the newly buried ooman,” in a state of mental agony, which may, perhaps, be conceived by those who possess strong imaginations, but which cannot by any possibility be adequately described.
We regret to be compelled to chronicle the fact, that Jack Robinson lost command of his temper on the occasion referred to in the last chapter. He and Teddy O’Donel rolled to the very feet of the amazed Ladoc, before the force of their fall was expended. They sprang up instantly, and Jack dealt the Irishman an open-handed box on the ear that sent him staggering against one of the pillars of the verandah, and resounded in the still night air like a pistol-shot. Poor Teddy would have fired up under other circumstances, but he felt so deeply ashamed of having caused the undignified mishap to his master, that he pocketed the affront, and quietly retired towards his kitchen. On his way thither, however, he was arrested by the tremendous tone in which Jack demanded of Ladoc the reason of his appearance at such an untimely hour.
There was a slight dash of insolence in the man’s reply.
“I come up, monsieur,” said he, “to tell you if there betwomasters at fishery,Inot be one of ’em. Rollo tink he do vat him please, mais I say, no; so ve quarrel.”
“And so, you take upon you to desert your post,” thundered Jack.
“Vraiment, oui,” coolly replied Ladoc.
Jack clenched his fist and sprang at the man as a bull-terrier might leap on a mastiff. Almost in the act of striking he changed his mind, and, instead of delivering one of those scientific blows with which he had on more than one occasion in his past history terminated a fight at its very commencement, he seized Ladoc by the throat, tripped up his heels, and hurled him to the ground with such force, that he lay quite still for at least half a minute! Leaving him there to the care of O’Donel, who had returned, Jack went up to his bedroom, shut the door, thrust his hands into his pockets, and began to pace the floor rapidly, and to shake his head. Gradually his pace became slower, and the shaking of his head more sedate. Presently he soliloquised in an undertone.
“This won’t do, John Robinson. You’ve let off too much steam. Quite against your principles to be so violent—shame on you, man. Yet after all it was very provoking to be made such a fool of before that insolent fellow. Poor Teddy—I wish I hadn’t hit you such a slap. But, after all, you deserved it, you superstitious blockhead. Well, well, it’s of no use regretting. Glad I didn’t hit Ladoc, though, it’s too soon forthat. Humph! the time has come for action, however. Things are drawing to a point. They shall culminateto-morrow. Let me see.”
Here Jack’s tones became inaudible, and he began to complete his toilette. His thoughts were busy—to judge from his knitted brows and compressed lips. The decision of his motions at last showed that he had made up his mind to a course of action.
It was with a cleared brow and a self-possessed expression of countenance that he descended, a few minutes later, to the hall, and summoned O’Donel.
That worthy, on making his appearance, looked confused, and began to stammer out—
“I beg parding, sur, but—but raally, you know—it, it was all owin’ to them abominable ghosts.”
Jack smiled, or rather, tried to smile, but owing to conflicting emotions the attempt resulted in a grin.
“Let bygones be bygones,” he said, “and send Ladoc here.”
Ladoc entered with a defiant expression, which was evidently somewhat forced.
Jack was seated at a table, turning over some papers. Without raising his head, he said—
“Be prepared to start for the fishery with me in half-an-hour, Ladoc.”
“Monsieur?” exclaimed the man, with a look of surprise.
Jack raised his head andlookedat him. It was one of his peculiar looks.
“Did you not understand me?” he said, jumping up suddenly.
Ladoc vanished with an abrupt, “Oui, monsieur,” and Jack proceeded, with arealsmile on his good-humoured face, to equip himself for the road.
In half an hour the two were walking silently side by side at a smart pace towards the fishery, while poor Teddy O’Donel was left, as he afterwards said, “all be his lone wid the ghost and the newly buried ooman,” in a state of mental agony, which may, perhaps, be conceived by those who possess strong imaginations, but which cannot by any possibility be adequately described.
Chapter Ten.Strangers and Strange Events.The monotony of the night march to the fishery was enlivened by the unexpected apparition of a boat. There was just enough of moonlight to render it dimly visible a few hundred yards from the shore.“Indians!” exclaimed Ladoc, breaking silence for the first time since they set out.“The stroke is too steady and regular for Indians,” said Jack. “Boat ahoy!”“Shore ahoy!” came back at once in the ringing tones of a seaman’s voice.“Pull in; there’s plenty of water!” shouted Jack.“Ay, ay,” was the response. In a few seconds the boat’s keel grated on the sand, and an active sailor jumped ashore. There were five other men in the boat.“Where haveyoudropped from?” enquired Jack. “Well, the last place we dropped from,” answered the seaman, “was the port quarter davits of the good ship Ontario, Captain Jones, from Liverpool to Quebec, with a general cargo; that was last night, and ten minutes afterwards, the Ontario dropped to the bottom of the sea.”“Wrecked!” exclaimed Jack.“Just so. Leastwise, sprung a leak and gone to the bottom.”“No hands lost, I hope?”“No, all saved in the boats; but we parted company in the night, and haven’t seen each other since. Is there any port hereabouts, where we could get a bit o’ summat to eat?”“There is, friend. Just pull six miles farther along shore as you are going, and you’ll come to the place that I have the honour and happiness to command—we call it Fort Desolation. You and your party are heartily welcome to food and shelter there, and you’ll find an Irishman in charge who will be overjoyed, I doubt not, to act the part of host. To-morrow night I shall return to the fort.”The shipwrecked mariners, who were half-starved, received this news with a cheer, and pushing off, resumed their oars with fresh vigour, while Jack and his man continued their journey.They reached the fishery before dawn, and, without awakening the men, retired at once to rest.Before breakfast, Jack was up, and went out to inspect the place. He found that his orders, about repairing the roof of the out-house and the clearing up, had not been attended to. He said nothing at first, but, from the quiet settled expression of his face, the men felt convinced that he did not mean to let it pass.He ordered Ladoc to repair the roof forthwith, and bade Rollo commence a general clearing-up. He also set the other men to various occupations, and gave each to understand, that when his job was finished he might return to breakfast. The result of this was, that breakfast that morning was delayed till between eleven and twelve, the fishery speedily assumed quite a new aspect, and that the men ate a good deal more than usual when they were permitted to break their fast.After breakfast, while they were seated outside the door of their hut smoking, Jack smoked his pipe alone by the margin of the river, about fifty yards off.“Monsieur be meditating of something this morning,” observed little François Xavier, glancing at Rollo with a twinkle in his sharp grey eye.“He may meditate on what he likes, for all thatIcare,” said Rollo with a scornful laugh. “He’ll find it difficult to cowme, as I’ll let him know before long.”Ladoc coughed, and an unmistakable sneer curled his lip as he relighted his pipe. The flushed face of Rollo showed what he felt, but, as nothing had beensaid, he could not with propriety give vent to his passion.At that moment Jack Robinson hailed Ladoc, who rose and went towards him. Jack said a few words to him, which, of course, owing to the distance, could not be heard by the men. Immediately after, Ladoc was seen to walk away in the direction of an old Indian burying-ground, which lay in the woods about a quarter of a mile from the fishery.Five minutes later Jack hailed Rollo, who obeyed the summons, and after a few words with his master, went off in the same direction as Ladoc. There seemed something mysterious in these movements. The mystery was deepened when Jack hailed François Xavier, and sent him after the other two, and it culminated when Jack himself, after allowing five minutes more to elapse, sauntered away in the same direction with a stout cudgel under his arm. He was soon lost to view in the woods.Each of the three men had been told to go to the burying-ground, and to wait there until Jack himself should arrive. Ladoc was surprised on receiving the order, but, as we have seen, obeyed it. He was more than surprised, however, when he saw Rollo walk into the enclosure, and still more astonished when François followed in due course. None of the three spoke. They felt that Jack would not keep them long in suspense, and they were right. He soon appeared—smoking calmly.“Now, lads,” said he, “come here. Stand aside, François. I have brought you to this place to witness our proceedings, and to carry back a true report to your comrades. Ladoc and Rollo, (here Jack’s face became suddenly very stern; there was somethingintense, though not loud, in his voice), you have kept my men in constant hot water by your quarrelling since you came together. I mean to put an end to this. You don’t seem to be quite sure which of you is the best man. You shall settle that question this day, on this spot, and within this hour. So set to, you rascals! Fight or shake hands.Iwill see fair play!”Jack blazed up at this point, and stepped up to the men with such a fierce expression, that they were utterly cowed.“Fight, I say, or shake hands, or—” Here Jack paused, and his teeth were heard to grate harshly together.The two bullies stood abashed. They evidently did not feel inclined to “come to the scratch.” Yet they saw by the peculiar way in which their master grasped his cudgel, that it would be worse for both of them if they did not obey.“Well,” said Ladoc, turning with a somewhat candid smile to Rollo, “I’s willin’ to shake hands ifyoube.”He held out his hand to Rollo, who took it in a shamefaced sort of way and then dropped it.“Good,” said Jack; “now you may go back to the hut;but, walk arm in arm. Let your comradesseethat you are friends. Come, no hesitation!”The tone of command could not be resisted; the two men walked down to the river arm in arm, as if they had been the best of friends, and little François followed—chuckling!Next day a man arrived on foot with a letter to the gentlemen in charge of Fort Desolation. He and another man had conveyed it to the fort in a canoe from Fort Kamenistaquoia.“What have we here?” said Jack Robinson, sitting down on the gunwale of a boat and breaking the seal.The letter ran as follows:—“Fort Kamenistaquoia, etcetera, etcetera.“My Dear Jack,“I am sorry to tell you that the business has all gone to sticks and stivers. We have not got enough of capital to compete with the Hudson’s Bay Company, and I may remark, privately, that if we had, it would not be worth while to oppose them on this desolate coast. The trade, therefore, is to be given up, and the posts abandoned. I have sent a clerk to succeed you and wind up the business, at Fort Desolation, as I want you to come here directly, to consult as to future plans.“Your loving but unfortunate friend,“J. Murray.”On reading this epistle, Jack heaved a deep sigh.“Adrift again!” he muttered.At that moment his attention was arrested by the sound of voices in dispute. Presently the door of the men’s house was flung open, and Rollo appeared with a large bundle on his shoulders. The bundle contained his “little all.” He was gesticulating passionately to his comrades.“What’s wrong now?” said Jack to François, as the latter came towards him.“Rollo he go ’way,” said François. “There be an Indian come in hims canoe, and Rollo make up his mind to go off vid him.”“Oh! has he?” said Jack, springing up and walking rapidly towards the hut.Now it must be told here that, a few days before the events we are describing, Jack had given Rollo a new suit of clothes from the Company’s store, with a view to gain his regard by kindness, and attach him to the service, if possible. Rollo was clad in this suit at the time, and he evidently meant to carry it off.Jack crushed back his anger as he came up, and said in a calm, deliberate voice, “Whatnow, Rollo?”“I’m going off,” said the man fiercely. “I’ve had enough ofyou.”There was something supernaturally calm and bland in Jack’s manner, as he smiled and said—“Indeed! I’mveryglad to hear it. Do you go soon?”“Ay, at once.”“Good. You had better change your dress before going.”“Eh?” exclaimed the man.“Your clothes belong to the company;put them off!” said Jack. “Strip, you blackguard!” he shouted, suddenly bringing his stick within three inches of Rollo’s nose, “Strip, or I’ll break every bone in your carcase.”The man hesitated, but a nervous motion in Jack’s arm caused him to take off his coat somewhat promptly.“I’ll go into the house,” said Rollo, humbly.“No!” said Jack, sternly, “Strip where you are. Quick!”Rollo continued to divest himself of his garments, until there was nothing left to remove.“Here, François,” said Jack, “take these things away. Now, sir, you may go.”Rollo took up his bundle and went into the hut, thoroughly crestfallen, to re-clothe himself in his old garments, while Jack strolled into the woods to meditate on his strange fortunes.That was the end of Rollo. He embarked in a canoe with an Indian and went off—no one knew whither. So, the wicked and useless among men wander about this world to annoy their fellows for a time—to pass away and be forgotten. Perhaps some of them, through God’s mercy, return to their right minds. We cannot tell.According to instructions, Jack made over the charge of his establishment that day to the clerk who had been sent down to take charge, and next morning set out for Fort Kamenistaquoia, in the boat with the shipwrecked seamen.Misfortune attended him even to the last minute. The new clerk, who chanced to be an enthusiastic young man, had resolved to celebrate his own advent and his predecessor’s departure by firing a salute from an old carronade which stood in front of the fort, and which might, possibly, have figured at the battle of the Nile. He overcharged this gun, and, just as the boat pushed off, applied the match. The result was tremendous. The gun burst into a thousand pieces, and the clerk was laid flat on the sand! Of course the boat was run ashore immediately, and Jack sprang out and hastened to the scene of the disaster, which he reached just as the clerk, recovering from the effects of the shock, managed to sit up.He presented a wonderful appearance! Fortunately, none of the flying pieces of the gun had touched him, but a flat tin dish, full of powder, from which he had primed the piece, had exploded in his face. This was now of a uniform bluish-black colour, without eyelashes or eyebrows, and surmounted by a mass of frizzled material that had once been the unfortunate youth’s hair.Beyond this he had received no damage, so Jack remained just long enough to dress his hurts, and make sure that he was still fit for duty.Once more entering the boat, Jack pushed off. “Good-bye, boys!” said he, as the sailors pulled away. “Farewell, Teddy, mind you find me out when you go up to Quebec.”“Bad luck to me av I don’t,” cried the Irishman, whose eyes became watery in spite of himself.“And don’t let the ghosts get the better of you!” shouted Jack.O’Donel shook his head. “Ah, they’re a bad lot, sur—but sorrow wan o’ them was iver so ugly ashim!”He concluded this remark by pointing over his shoulder with his thumb in the direction of the house where the new clerk lay, a hideous, though not severely injured, spectacle, on his bed.A last “farewell” floated over the water, as the boat passed round a point of land. Jack waved his hand, and, a moment later, Fort Desolation vanished from his eyes for ever.Readers, it is not our purpose here to detail to you the life and adventures of Jack Robinson.We have recalled and recounted this brief passage in his eventful history, in order to give you some idea of what “outskirters,” and wandering stars of humanity sometimes see, and say, and go through.Doubtless Jack’s future career would interest you, for his was a nature that could not be easily subdued. Difficulties had the effect of stirring him up to more resolute exertions. Opposition had the effect of drawing him on, instead of keeping him back. “Cold water” warmed him. “Wet blankets,” when thrown on him, were dried and made hot! His energy was untiring, his zeal red hot, and when one effort failed, he began another with as much fervour as if it were the first he had ever made.Yet Jack Robinson did not succeed in life. It would be difficult to say why. Perhaps his zeal and energy were frittered away on too many objects. Perhaps, if he had confined himself to one purpose and object in life, he would have been a great man. Yet no one could say that he was given to change, until change was forced upon him. Perchance want of judgment was the cause of all his misfortunes; yet he was a clever fellow: cleverer than the average of men. It may be that Jack’s self-reliance had something to do with it, and that he was too apt to trust to his own strength and wisdom, forgetting that there is One, without whose blessing man’s powers can accomplish no good whatever. We know not. We do not charge Jack with this, yet this is by no means an uncommon sin, if we are to believe the confessions of multitudes of good men.Be this as it may, Jack arrived at Fort Kamenistaquoia in due course, and kindly, but firmly, refused to take part with his sanguine friend, J Murray, who proposed—to use his own language—“the getting-up of a great joint-stock company, to buy up all the sawmills on the Ottawa!”Thereafter, Jack went to Quebec, where he was joined by Teddy O’Donel, with whom he found his way to the outskirt settlements of the far west. There, having purchased two horses and two rifles, he mounted his steed, and, followed by his man, galloped away into the prairie to seek his fortune.The End.
The monotony of the night march to the fishery was enlivened by the unexpected apparition of a boat. There was just enough of moonlight to render it dimly visible a few hundred yards from the shore.
“Indians!” exclaimed Ladoc, breaking silence for the first time since they set out.
“The stroke is too steady and regular for Indians,” said Jack. “Boat ahoy!”
“Shore ahoy!” came back at once in the ringing tones of a seaman’s voice.
“Pull in; there’s plenty of water!” shouted Jack.
“Ay, ay,” was the response. In a few seconds the boat’s keel grated on the sand, and an active sailor jumped ashore. There were five other men in the boat.
“Where haveyoudropped from?” enquired Jack. “Well, the last place we dropped from,” answered the seaman, “was the port quarter davits of the good ship Ontario, Captain Jones, from Liverpool to Quebec, with a general cargo; that was last night, and ten minutes afterwards, the Ontario dropped to the bottom of the sea.”
“Wrecked!” exclaimed Jack.
“Just so. Leastwise, sprung a leak and gone to the bottom.”
“No hands lost, I hope?”
“No, all saved in the boats; but we parted company in the night, and haven’t seen each other since. Is there any port hereabouts, where we could get a bit o’ summat to eat?”
“There is, friend. Just pull six miles farther along shore as you are going, and you’ll come to the place that I have the honour and happiness to command—we call it Fort Desolation. You and your party are heartily welcome to food and shelter there, and you’ll find an Irishman in charge who will be overjoyed, I doubt not, to act the part of host. To-morrow night I shall return to the fort.”
The shipwrecked mariners, who were half-starved, received this news with a cheer, and pushing off, resumed their oars with fresh vigour, while Jack and his man continued their journey.
They reached the fishery before dawn, and, without awakening the men, retired at once to rest.
Before breakfast, Jack was up, and went out to inspect the place. He found that his orders, about repairing the roof of the out-house and the clearing up, had not been attended to. He said nothing at first, but, from the quiet settled expression of his face, the men felt convinced that he did not mean to let it pass.
He ordered Ladoc to repair the roof forthwith, and bade Rollo commence a general clearing-up. He also set the other men to various occupations, and gave each to understand, that when his job was finished he might return to breakfast. The result of this was, that breakfast that morning was delayed till between eleven and twelve, the fishery speedily assumed quite a new aspect, and that the men ate a good deal more than usual when they were permitted to break their fast.
After breakfast, while they were seated outside the door of their hut smoking, Jack smoked his pipe alone by the margin of the river, about fifty yards off.
“Monsieur be meditating of something this morning,” observed little François Xavier, glancing at Rollo with a twinkle in his sharp grey eye.
“He may meditate on what he likes, for all thatIcare,” said Rollo with a scornful laugh. “He’ll find it difficult to cowme, as I’ll let him know before long.”
Ladoc coughed, and an unmistakable sneer curled his lip as he relighted his pipe. The flushed face of Rollo showed what he felt, but, as nothing had beensaid, he could not with propriety give vent to his passion.
At that moment Jack Robinson hailed Ladoc, who rose and went towards him. Jack said a few words to him, which, of course, owing to the distance, could not be heard by the men. Immediately after, Ladoc was seen to walk away in the direction of an old Indian burying-ground, which lay in the woods about a quarter of a mile from the fishery.
Five minutes later Jack hailed Rollo, who obeyed the summons, and after a few words with his master, went off in the same direction as Ladoc. There seemed something mysterious in these movements. The mystery was deepened when Jack hailed François Xavier, and sent him after the other two, and it culminated when Jack himself, after allowing five minutes more to elapse, sauntered away in the same direction with a stout cudgel under his arm. He was soon lost to view in the woods.
Each of the three men had been told to go to the burying-ground, and to wait there until Jack himself should arrive. Ladoc was surprised on receiving the order, but, as we have seen, obeyed it. He was more than surprised, however, when he saw Rollo walk into the enclosure, and still more astonished when François followed in due course. None of the three spoke. They felt that Jack would not keep them long in suspense, and they were right. He soon appeared—smoking calmly.
“Now, lads,” said he, “come here. Stand aside, François. I have brought you to this place to witness our proceedings, and to carry back a true report to your comrades. Ladoc and Rollo, (here Jack’s face became suddenly very stern; there was somethingintense, though not loud, in his voice), you have kept my men in constant hot water by your quarrelling since you came together. I mean to put an end to this. You don’t seem to be quite sure which of you is the best man. You shall settle that question this day, on this spot, and within this hour. So set to, you rascals! Fight or shake hands.Iwill see fair play!”
Jack blazed up at this point, and stepped up to the men with such a fierce expression, that they were utterly cowed.
“Fight, I say, or shake hands, or—” Here Jack paused, and his teeth were heard to grate harshly together.
The two bullies stood abashed. They evidently did not feel inclined to “come to the scratch.” Yet they saw by the peculiar way in which their master grasped his cudgel, that it would be worse for both of them if they did not obey.
“Well,” said Ladoc, turning with a somewhat candid smile to Rollo, “I’s willin’ to shake hands ifyoube.”
He held out his hand to Rollo, who took it in a shamefaced sort of way and then dropped it.
“Good,” said Jack; “now you may go back to the hut;but, walk arm in arm. Let your comradesseethat you are friends. Come, no hesitation!”
The tone of command could not be resisted; the two men walked down to the river arm in arm, as if they had been the best of friends, and little François followed—chuckling!
Next day a man arrived on foot with a letter to the gentlemen in charge of Fort Desolation. He and another man had conveyed it to the fort in a canoe from Fort Kamenistaquoia.
“What have we here?” said Jack Robinson, sitting down on the gunwale of a boat and breaking the seal.
The letter ran as follows:—
“Fort Kamenistaquoia, etcetera, etcetera.“My Dear Jack,“I am sorry to tell you that the business has all gone to sticks and stivers. We have not got enough of capital to compete with the Hudson’s Bay Company, and I may remark, privately, that if we had, it would not be worth while to oppose them on this desolate coast. The trade, therefore, is to be given up, and the posts abandoned. I have sent a clerk to succeed you and wind up the business, at Fort Desolation, as I want you to come here directly, to consult as to future plans.“Your loving but unfortunate friend,“J. Murray.”
“Fort Kamenistaquoia, etcetera, etcetera.
“My Dear Jack,
“I am sorry to tell you that the business has all gone to sticks and stivers. We have not got enough of capital to compete with the Hudson’s Bay Company, and I may remark, privately, that if we had, it would not be worth while to oppose them on this desolate coast. The trade, therefore, is to be given up, and the posts abandoned. I have sent a clerk to succeed you and wind up the business, at Fort Desolation, as I want you to come here directly, to consult as to future plans.
“Your loving but unfortunate friend,
“J. Murray.”
On reading this epistle, Jack heaved a deep sigh.
“Adrift again!” he muttered.
At that moment his attention was arrested by the sound of voices in dispute. Presently the door of the men’s house was flung open, and Rollo appeared with a large bundle on his shoulders. The bundle contained his “little all.” He was gesticulating passionately to his comrades.
“What’s wrong now?” said Jack to François, as the latter came towards him.
“Rollo he go ’way,” said François. “There be an Indian come in hims canoe, and Rollo make up his mind to go off vid him.”
“Oh! has he?” said Jack, springing up and walking rapidly towards the hut.
Now it must be told here that, a few days before the events we are describing, Jack had given Rollo a new suit of clothes from the Company’s store, with a view to gain his regard by kindness, and attach him to the service, if possible. Rollo was clad in this suit at the time, and he evidently meant to carry it off.
Jack crushed back his anger as he came up, and said in a calm, deliberate voice, “Whatnow, Rollo?”
“I’m going off,” said the man fiercely. “I’ve had enough ofyou.”
There was something supernaturally calm and bland in Jack’s manner, as he smiled and said—
“Indeed! I’mveryglad to hear it. Do you go soon?”
“Ay, at once.”
“Good. You had better change your dress before going.”
“Eh?” exclaimed the man.
“Your clothes belong to the company;put them off!” said Jack. “Strip, you blackguard!” he shouted, suddenly bringing his stick within three inches of Rollo’s nose, “Strip, or I’ll break every bone in your carcase.”
The man hesitated, but a nervous motion in Jack’s arm caused him to take off his coat somewhat promptly.
“I’ll go into the house,” said Rollo, humbly.
“No!” said Jack, sternly, “Strip where you are. Quick!”
Rollo continued to divest himself of his garments, until there was nothing left to remove.
“Here, François,” said Jack, “take these things away. Now, sir, you may go.”
Rollo took up his bundle and went into the hut, thoroughly crestfallen, to re-clothe himself in his old garments, while Jack strolled into the woods to meditate on his strange fortunes.
That was the end of Rollo. He embarked in a canoe with an Indian and went off—no one knew whither. So, the wicked and useless among men wander about this world to annoy their fellows for a time—to pass away and be forgotten. Perhaps some of them, through God’s mercy, return to their right minds. We cannot tell.
According to instructions, Jack made over the charge of his establishment that day to the clerk who had been sent down to take charge, and next morning set out for Fort Kamenistaquoia, in the boat with the shipwrecked seamen.
Misfortune attended him even to the last minute. The new clerk, who chanced to be an enthusiastic young man, had resolved to celebrate his own advent and his predecessor’s departure by firing a salute from an old carronade which stood in front of the fort, and which might, possibly, have figured at the battle of the Nile. He overcharged this gun, and, just as the boat pushed off, applied the match. The result was tremendous. The gun burst into a thousand pieces, and the clerk was laid flat on the sand! Of course the boat was run ashore immediately, and Jack sprang out and hastened to the scene of the disaster, which he reached just as the clerk, recovering from the effects of the shock, managed to sit up.
He presented a wonderful appearance! Fortunately, none of the flying pieces of the gun had touched him, but a flat tin dish, full of powder, from which he had primed the piece, had exploded in his face. This was now of a uniform bluish-black colour, without eyelashes or eyebrows, and surmounted by a mass of frizzled material that had once been the unfortunate youth’s hair.
Beyond this he had received no damage, so Jack remained just long enough to dress his hurts, and make sure that he was still fit for duty.
Once more entering the boat, Jack pushed off. “Good-bye, boys!” said he, as the sailors pulled away. “Farewell, Teddy, mind you find me out when you go up to Quebec.”
“Bad luck to me av I don’t,” cried the Irishman, whose eyes became watery in spite of himself.
“And don’t let the ghosts get the better of you!” shouted Jack.
O’Donel shook his head. “Ah, they’re a bad lot, sur—but sorrow wan o’ them was iver so ugly ashim!”
He concluded this remark by pointing over his shoulder with his thumb in the direction of the house where the new clerk lay, a hideous, though not severely injured, spectacle, on his bed.
A last “farewell” floated over the water, as the boat passed round a point of land. Jack waved his hand, and, a moment later, Fort Desolation vanished from his eyes for ever.
Readers, it is not our purpose here to detail to you the life and adventures of Jack Robinson.
We have recalled and recounted this brief passage in his eventful history, in order to give you some idea of what “outskirters,” and wandering stars of humanity sometimes see, and say, and go through.
Doubtless Jack’s future career would interest you, for his was a nature that could not be easily subdued. Difficulties had the effect of stirring him up to more resolute exertions. Opposition had the effect of drawing him on, instead of keeping him back. “Cold water” warmed him. “Wet blankets,” when thrown on him, were dried and made hot! His energy was untiring, his zeal red hot, and when one effort failed, he began another with as much fervour as if it were the first he had ever made.
Yet Jack Robinson did not succeed in life. It would be difficult to say why. Perhaps his zeal and energy were frittered away on too many objects. Perhaps, if he had confined himself to one purpose and object in life, he would have been a great man. Yet no one could say that he was given to change, until change was forced upon him. Perchance want of judgment was the cause of all his misfortunes; yet he was a clever fellow: cleverer than the average of men. It may be that Jack’s self-reliance had something to do with it, and that he was too apt to trust to his own strength and wisdom, forgetting that there is One, without whose blessing man’s powers can accomplish no good whatever. We know not. We do not charge Jack with this, yet this is by no means an uncommon sin, if we are to believe the confessions of multitudes of good men.
Be this as it may, Jack arrived at Fort Kamenistaquoia in due course, and kindly, but firmly, refused to take part with his sanguine friend, J Murray, who proposed—to use his own language—“the getting-up of a great joint-stock company, to buy up all the sawmills on the Ottawa!”
Thereafter, Jack went to Quebec, where he was joined by Teddy O’Donel, with whom he found his way to the outskirt settlements of the far west. There, having purchased two horses and two rifles, he mounted his steed, and, followed by his man, galloped away into the prairie to seek his fortune.
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