IXTHE FAR WILDERNESS
Deliberately Toby raised his rifle to his shoulder, so deliberately that Charley was sure the lynx would spring upon them before Toby could fire. Charley held his breath, and then Toby's rifle rang out. The lynx gave a feeble lunge, and the next instant lay crumpled in a heap.
"We got un! I knocked un over!" cried Toby exultantly as the two ran forward to the prostrate animal.
"That was a fine shot!" Charley shouted, quite beside himself with excitement, and now breathing freely again.
"He'll be a fine surprise for Dad!" exclaimed Toby, surveying the carcass with vast pride. "Won't he and Mother be glad of un! The fur's not prime, but 'twill be fair, and 'tis the first fur we gets this year!"
"He won't kill any more of our rabbits!" Charley boasted, touching the furry coat of the dead animal.
"The one he kills back there where wesees un, were the last un for he," agreed Toby.
"How'll we carry it?" asked Charley.
"'Twill be easy to carry he," assured Toby. "I'll show you how easy 'tis."
Now that the lynx was harmless to attack, and lay quiet and motionless at their feet, Charley discovered that it was a much smaller animal than he had thought when he saw its eyes and its crouching form in the shadows. Still he had no desire to meet a lynx alone in the forest, though Toby still insisted that the animal would have made no attack, and would have slipped away from them had he failed in his aim.
Toby drew the twine from his pocket, and tied together the front legs, just above the padded feet, wrapping the twine around the legs several times, and tying it in a secure knot. The hind legs were tied in similar manner. Then cutting a stiff pole, and trimming off the branches with the ax, he ran the pole between the front and hind legs, with the two ends protruding.
"Now," said Toby, "and you takes one end of the pole on your shoulder, I'll take the other on mine and we'll carry he in between us."
"I never would have thought of doing it that way," said Charley admiringly. "That's dead easy!"
It was dusk when they reached the cabin, and the lynx was growing heavy to Charley's unaccustomed shoulder, and both boys were tired and happy with the day's adventure.
"Well, now!" boomed Skipper Zeb in his biggest voice, when the boys appeared at the door. "A lynx! And a fine big un, too! And the fur's not so bad for this early in the season. You're startin' in fine as a Labradorman!" and he slapped Charley on the shoulder. "Day before yesterday a castaway! Yesterday shipwrecked! To-day settin' rabbit snares and helpin' Toby knock over a lynx! Aye, and gettin' the lynx! That's two bad fixes you gets out of yourself, and one you gets the lynx in that he don't get out of!"
"Toby shot the lynx," said Charley modestly. "He'd have got away from me if I'd been alone, or eaten me up."
"Charley helped," Toby broke in. "He helped to trail he, though I did the shootin', and he helped to carry he home."
"Both of you gets un, though only one does the shootin'," agreed Skipper Zeb with a hearty "haw! haw! haw!" slapping thetwo boys on the shoulder with vast approval. "Only one would be doin' the shootin' whatever. We'll be makin' a hunter o' you before the ship comes back in July month, lad! You'll be a true Labradorman by then. Now we'll have roast lynx for dinner to-morrow, and 'tis a fine fat un too."
Supper was not ready, and while they waited Skipper Zeb and Toby skinned the lynx, beginning at the hind feet, and drawing the skin whole and inside out over the carcass. It was then pulled snugly over a board shaped for the purpose, with the fur next the board and the fleshy side out, drawn taut and secured. Now, with a sheath knife, Skipper Zeb scraped it carefully, removing every particle of fat or flesh that adhered, and when this was completed to his satisfaction he hung the board with the pelt upon it from a peg to dry.
"It seems like a month instead of three days since I came," said Charley when supper was eaten and Skipper Zeb had lighted his pipe. "A lot has happened in three days."
"Things has happened, now! Yes, sir!" observed Skipper Zeb, puffing at his pipe. "We had a bit of a hard time yesterday, buthere we are to-day all snug and safe and well. Not one of us in a fix, and all goin' fine."
"I wonder how Mr. Wise felt when he missed me," Charley chuckled. "I can just see him running around the ship looking for me. I guess he thinks he's in a fix! Serves him right if he is worried. But," and Charley sobered, "it makes me feel badly to think of Dad and Mother when they hear I'm missing."
"Don't be thinkin' o' that now," cautioned Skipper Zeb. "'Twill do you no good and 'twill do they no good. Just be thinkin' how joyful they'll be when you goes home in July month. What a fine surprise 'twill be for un!" And then to change the line of thought, he suggested: "You'll be needin' a fit out o' clothes for the winter."
"I have some money," volunteered Charley. "I could buy things if there was a store to go to."
"There's no store this side o' Skipper Blink's shop at Deer Harbour, and that's a bit down north from Pinch-In Tickle, and we'll not be gettin' there for two months whatever," explained Skipper Zeb. "Mother, how can we fit out the lad for clothes?"
"We has a bolt o' moleskin and a bolt o' kersey cloth," said Mrs. Twig. "I'll make the adikeys from that, and a pair o' moleskin trousers. We're a bit short o' underclothes. We gets Toby new ones this year, and I can mend up his old ones to do he for a bit until you goes to Deer Harbour, and Charley can wear the new ones."
"I'll wear the old ones," objected Charley. "Let Toby have the new ones. I have the suit I'm wearing, too."
"You have one of the new ones," suggested Toby by way of compromise, "and with the suit you has 'twill make two. I'll be havin' the other two suits of new uns, and we'll both be wearin' the old uns if we needs un till you gets new."
"All right, I'll go you on that," agreed Charley. "That's a good way to fix it. And when there's a chance to go to the store at Deer Harbour I'll get some new things there."
"We has some fine skins for boots," said Mrs. Twig. "I gets un all tanned in the spring, and I'll be makin' up some boots."
"Well, now! We're gettin' out o' that fix easy," and Skipper Zeb beamed delightedly. "We're gettin' out o'thatfix! And has youduffle for sox? And is there plenty o' deerskin on hand for moccasins?"
"Aye, plenty o' duffle and plenty of deerskins," smiled Mrs. Twig, amused at the Skipper's enthusiasm. "I'll soon be havin' a plenty o' sox and moccasins made up."
"The lynx fur the lads gets this evenin' not bein' prime for trade, but fine for caps, I thinks the lads might have caps made out of un, and the hoods of their adikeys trimmed with un," suggested Skipper Twig. "Then both our lads will be dressed alike."
"'Twouldbe fine, now," assented Mrs. Twig, who usually agreed with Skipper Zeb's suggestions.
"Now that's settled, and we has you lads togged out to the king's taste for winter." Skipper Zeb stroked his beard contentedly. "No fix there to bother, and we'll talk up our plans. First thing, Mother's been fussin' about the trap boat, and feelin' bad about un ever since we leaves un at the Duck's Head. She's thinkin' if we pulls un out o' the water, we'll find the bottom not so bad we can't fix un. I'm not doubtin' myself the bottom's all stove in, the way she struck. But we'll go over to the Duck's Head in the marnin' to pull she out and make sure of un, and 'twillmake Mother feel better if we tries, whatever."
"That's fine," agreed Toby. "I were thinkin' maybe she's just got a busted plank, and her timbers are sound."
"Now what does you think o' the plan, Charley?" asked Skipper Zeb. "You're one o' the partners, and must have a say about un."
"It sounds good to me," agreed Charley, feeling that responsibility was being thrust upon him, and rather pleased that it was. "I think the boat should be looked at."
"There, now, that's good judgment," boomed the Skipper. "I were sure you were a lad o' judgment from the minute I sees you, and that proves un. We'll go in the marnin' to the Duck's Head to see the trap boat, after you lads come back from your rabbit snares."
As Toby had planned, Charley and he shared the bed in the living-room, and so soundly did Charley sleep that Mrs. Twig had breakfast nearly ready before he awoke the following morning. They ate by candle-light, and at the first break of dawn the two boys set out eagerly to look at the rabbit snares, and within an hour returned with three big snowshoe rabbits.
Skipper Twig was ready with his boat, in which he had stowed block and fall rigging, hammer, nails, pieces of plank and an ax, and without delay the three were off for the Duck's Head.
With the block and fall they were able to haul the boat out of the water, and to their satisfaction, and the amazement of Skipper Zeb, discovered that no serious damage had been done. A plank had been broken, but ribs and timbers were uncracked. The boat was soon mended and the new section of plank caulked with oakum, and shortly after midday the trap boat was again afloat, and quite as serviceable as before the accident.
"There she be, fine and shipshape as ever!" Skipper Zeb boomed. "Mother were worryin' and stewin' herself half sick about she. That's the way 'tis with most worries, when you goes to the bottom of un. Nothin' to worry about. There's another fix we gets out of."
"Fine and dandy!" exclaimed Charley. "I was sure you'd lost her, and I'm so glad she's all right after all."
"Well, now," said Skipper Zeb, "this was once Mother was right when she pesters me to come and look at un. I thinks we'd lostshe sure, but I says, 'That's the way o' things,' and I don't worry. Though we'd have missed she at the fishin', we'd be gettin' on, and 'twasn't worth a worry, whatever."
There was great rejoicing when Skipper Zeb and the boys arrived at Double Up Cove early in the afternoon with the big trap boat, and the small boat in tow. Mrs. Twig and Violet saw them coming, and were at the beach to meet them, and Mrs. Twig actually shed tears of joy.
"Snug and tight as ever!" announced Skipper Zeb, as the prow touched the shore. "We gets she all fixed up, Mother. I'm thinkin' you knows more about boats than I does."
"I'msoglad!" and Mrs. Twig's round face was wreathed in smiles while glad tears glistened in her eyes. "Now you and the lads must be wonderful hungry, for 'tis near two hours after dinner time, and dinner's been waitin' this long while."
"Aye, hungry as seven bears and as happy and perky as a cock pa'tridge," boomed Skipper Zeb. "We'll make the boats fast, and be right up."
What an appetite Charley had! And when he learned that the delicious roast meatwas a cut of the lynx that he and Toby had killed the night before, his natural prejudice against unaccustomed food did not prevent him from taking a second helping.
Charley scarce had time to think of home. Skipper Zeb was quite aware that the best antidote for homesickness is work, with little time to ruminate, and he kept Charley busy from morning till night with himself and Toby doing the most interesting things imaginable, and, with all the other work, the boys visited their rabbit snares each day and set new ones. The week passed quickly, and on Saturday evening, when they sat down to supper, Skipper Zeb announced:
"Well, now, here 'tis time to go to the path and set up the traps. We'll be leavin' Monday marnin', lads."
This was an adventure to which Charley had looked forward with keen anticipation since Skipper Zeb had first announced that he and Toby were to accompany him. Reaching away for countless miles in every direction from the water's edge lay the vast primordial, boundless wilderness. What unfathomed mysteries it held! There it slept as it had slept through the silence of unnumbered ages since the world was formed, untrodby the white man's foot, known only to wild Indian hunters, as primitive as the wilderness itself. What strange beasts lived in its far fastnesses! What marvelous lakes, what great rivers, what mountain peaks waited there to be discovered! What a wonderful sensation it would be to penetrate the hem of its outer edge beyond the sight and reach of even Skipper Zeb's frontier cabin.
This was what Charley was thinking, as they talked of the going on Monday morning, though he could not, perhaps, have put his thoughts or emotions into words that would express them.
"'Tis a late start," Skipper Zeb continued. "I never goes in quite so late to set up my path. But I has two fine helpers, whatever, and I never has they before."
Everything was made ready on Sunday night, and a full two hours before daybreak on Monday morning Skipper Zeb's small boat was laden with a cargo of flour, pork, molasses, tea and steel traps, with extra clothing for the trail. Two pairs of snowshoes were taken for himself, in case of accident to one of them, and also a pair for Toby and a pair for Charley.
"'Tis never safe to go without snowshoesat this season," explained Skipper Zeb. "If snow comes now, there'll be no gettin' about without un."
"I never had a pair of snowshoes on in my life," said Charley. "I don't see how you can walk with them, they're so wide and must be clumsy."
"Never has snowshoes on!" explained Skipper Zeb in astonishment. "Well, now! And how does you ever get about in winter without un?"
"The streets are kept clear of snow," explained Charley, "and we don't have so much snow anyhow. Even in the country there isn't enough snow to use them."
"Well, now!" said Skipper Zeb in wonderment. "It must be strange to be livin' in a place where you're not needin' snowshoes to get about in winter. You'll learn to use un. 'Twill be easy enough, once you finds the way o' swingin' your feet."
Mrs. Twig and Violet went down to the landing to see them off, and to wish them Godspeed as they pulled away with Skipper Zeb and Toby at the oars and Charley settled snugly in the stern.
XSKIPPER ZEB'S TRAPPING PATH
The stars shone brightly. The distant shore line stood out in dark silhouette marking the boundary of the land of silence, where no man lived. A thousand miles of trackless, unknown wilderness lay beyond that dark forest boundary. Charley's imagination pictured it as another world, apart and different from anything he had ever seen. Reared in a great city, it was difficult for him, even after his experience of the past week, to visualize it or form any accurate conception of what lay within its cold, rugged heart.
Listening to the ripple of water, watching the stars, Charley's thoughts turned from the dark shore line to the brighter home land. What had his father said when Mr. Wise returned without him? What would his mother say and feel when his father reached home alone? How grief-stricken they would be! Tears came into Charley's eyes, and remorse threatened to dampen the pleasure, and rob him of the ardour, of the adventure,when Skipper Zeb, in his big, cheery voice, asked:
"Be you snug and warm back there, Charley, lad?"
"Yes, thank you." Charley's voice betrayed his thoughts, perhaps, for Skipper Zeb asked:
"Not sorry now that the ship left you, be you, lad?"
"N-n-o," hesitated Charley, "I'm having a great time, but I was thinking of Dad and Mother, and how badly they will feel."
"Don't be thinkin' o' that now. Think how glad you'll make they when you goes back." Skipper Zeb laughed heartily. "I'm just laughin' at the way they'll be takin' onthen! They'll be just maulin' you to pieces, they'll be so glad! Think o'thatnow. Think o' the bad fix you gets out of, and thank the Lard you gets left at Pinch-In Tickle where you was as welcome as a son, instead of at some harbour where no one was bidin', as might o' happened. Just be thinkin' of to-day, and thank the Lard you're well and hearty, and has a snug berth with plenty o' grub. Nothin' to worry about! Not a thing!"
"May I have a pull at the oars?" Charleyasked, the gloom suddenly dispersed by Skipper Zeb's cheery voice and logical argument.
"Aye, lad, 'twill warm you up," agreed Skipper Zeb heartily. "Take Toby's oars. Let Charley have a pull at your oars, Toby, lad."
Charley soon wearied of the unaccustomed work, and blisters began to form in the palms of soft hands; and when Toby suggested it, he was glad enough to surrender the oars again to Toby, who minded it not a bit.
Daylight came and with it bright sunshine. Charley's heart beat with gladness and the joy of life. His far away city home seemed farther away than ever. He remembered it as one remembers a place of dreams—the subways, the elevated railways, the traffic-clogged streets, the high buildings, the noise. Here were no chimneys vomiting smoke and soot. Here were no dirty streets to poison the air with noxious fumes and germs of disease. He breathed deeply of the pure air bearing the sweet perfume of the forest and the refreshing smell of the salt sea. It filled his lungs like a life-giving tonic. How glorious this wild world was!
"Well, now!" Skipper Zeb announced an hour before midday. "Here's Swile Islandbefore we knows it! We'll stop for a bit to boil the kettle and stretch our legs ashore."
Swile Island was a small, nearly round island, containing an area equal to about that of a city block. Its center rose to a small hill, covered by a stunted growth of black spruce trees, which somehow clung to its rocky surface.
Charley was glad to go ashore, and he soon learned that "to boil the kettle" meant to prepare and eat luncheon. While Toby carried up from the boat the food and cooking utensils, Skipper Zeb lighted a fire, and in a little while the kettle was boiling for tea and a pan of salt pork sizzling over the coals.
Never in his life had Charley eaten fried salt pork, and Skipper Zeb's pork contained no streak of lean. He would have left the table without eating had such a meal been served him in his city home. But here he ate the pork, with his bread sopped into the grease, and tea sweetened with molasses, hungrily and with a relish, so quickly had exercise in the pure, clear air of the wilderness had its effect. Indeed, he was always hungry now, and could scarcely wait for meal time.
"There were lots of things I'd never eat at home," he said as he passed his plate for a second helping of pork, "but here I like everything."
"As I were sayin' before, hunger's a rare sauce for vittles," remarked Skipper Zeb.
A light breeze sprang up while they were eating, and when they made their departure from Swile Island Skipper Zeb hoisted a leg-o'-mutton sail, and then sat and smoked his pipe and told stories of experiences and adventures on the trail, while Toby took the rudder.
It was nearly three o'clock when Skipper Zeb pointed out a little log hut near the mouth of a small river, and announced:
"There's Black River and there's Black River tilt where we bides to-night."
A few minutes later the prow of the boat grounded upon a gravelly beach, and while Skipper Zeb unloaded the cargo the boys carried it to the tilt, laying it upon spruce boughs broken by Toby to protect it from the snow.
The tilt was built of logs, with a roof thatched with bark. The door was not more than four feet in height, and when Skipper Zeb opened it the three were compelled tostoop low to enter. The interior was a room about eight by ten feet in size. Across the end opposite the door was a bunk, and, along the right side of the room as they entered, another bunk extended from that at the far end to the wall behind the door. On the left side of the room, and midway between the end bunk and the door was a sheet-iron tent stove, with a pipe dismantled and lying on top of it. An old pair of snowshoes, and steel traps, pieces of board shaped for stretching pelts of various sizes and some simple cooking utensils hung upon wooden pegs against the wall. The floor was of hard-packed earth.
"Well, now! Here we be safe and sound and ready for work!" boomed Skipper Zeb. "Everything snug and fine when we gets our beds made and the stove set up and a fire in she. Whilst you lads gets boughs for the beds, I'll be puttin' up the stove and stow the cargo inside."
Toby and Charley went to work with a will, and soon had deep springy beds laid upon the bunks. Upon the bunk at the farther end they spread Skipper Zeb's sleeping bag, and side by side, upon the other bunk, their own. Already Skipper Zeb had acrackling fire in the stove and the cargo carried in and stowed snugly under the berths.
"Now whilst Toby and I tidy up a bit, put over the kettle, Charley lad, and we'll have a bite to eat," suggested Skipper Zeb.
Charley took the tin pail that served as a kettle, to fill it at the river. Just as he had dipped it and was about to return, his eye fell upon a peculiar looking animal perched upon a branch high up in a spruce tree. With all speed he ran back to the tilt and called excitedly upon Toby to come and see it.
"'Tis a porcupine!" exclaimed Toby, grabbing his rifle and following Charley. "I'll shoot he, and we'll have he for supper!"
And so it proved. A shot brought the animal tumbling down. Toby picked it up gingerly by a leg and carried it back.
"Well, now! Fresh meat the first night!" boomed Skipper Zeb. "Whilst you lads tidy the tilt, I'll skin he."
In a few minutes Skipper Zeb had the porcupine skinned and dressed, and after washing the meat in the river and cutting it into convenient sections he placed it in a kettle of water to stew for supper.
Two Indian flatsleds or toboggans, which were standing on end against the tilt, were put into repair by Skipper Zeb and made ready for the journey on the morrow, and before dark all preparations for an early departure were completed.
It was snug and cozy now in the tilt, with the fire in the little tent stove cracking and snapping. The air was spicy sweet with the odour of the spruce and balsam beds, but to the boys a still more delicious and appealing odour was given out by the kettle of stewing porcupine on the stove. Presently when supper was served Charley declared that the meal more than fulfilled his expectations.
"Why, it makes me think of lamb," he said, "only it's a heap better than any stewed lamb I ever ate. It's just great!"
"'Twere young and fat," said Skipper Zeb. "We likes porcupine wonderful well. 'Tis a fine treatwethinks."
Before daybreak the following morning loads were lashed upon the two flatsleds, and all was made ready for the trail. Snow was not deep enough to require the use of snowshoes, and they were tied securely upon the tops of the loads.
"All ready!" announced Skipper Zeb, inhis big hearty voice, as dawn was breaking. "I'll be goin' ahead with the heavy flatsled, and you lads takes turns haulin' the other. Toby b'y, you take the first turn at un."
"Aye," agreed Toby eagerly, "I'll haul un a spell first."
The route for a time followed the course of Black River. Now and again Skipper Zeb paused and turned aside to set a trap, where the tracks of martens or minks indicated their presence. At intervals he took bunches of a dozen or more traps from trees where he had hung them the previous spring when the trapping season had ended. Charley wondered how it was possible for him to remember where he had left them, and asked:
"How do you ever find the traps where you left them? The places all look alike to me."
"Why, 'tis easy enough, lad. This bunch I hangs in the only hackmatack tree handy about. I just looks up and sees the tree, and there I finds the traps just where I leaves un."
Even still Charley could not understand how Skipper Zeb could know where to look for the particular hackmatack tree, standingalone among the spruces and quaking aspens, for at several points he saw lone hackmatacks in similar surroundings. Presently he was to learn that the woodsman by long practice learns to know every tree or bush that is even slightly out of the ordinary along his trail, and so trained is he in the art of observation that his subconscious mind records these with no effort on his part. Thus to the woodsman the trail over which he has traveled two or three times, and often but once, becomes as familiar to him as streets to the city dweller.
After two hours on the trail, Skipper Zeb announced that they would "boil the kettle," and have a "snack" to eat. Already the boys were ravenously hungry, and Skipper Zeb chuckled merrily as he observed their keen enjoyment as they ate.
"Settin' up traps makes for hunger," said he. "Fill up now."
"I was just hollow!" confessed Charley.
"And I was hungrier'n a starved wolf!" added Toby.
Their course now left the river valley, and presently came upon a wide frozen marsh, or "mesh" as Skipper Zeb called it.
"'Tis here on the meshes we finds the best fox footin'," he explained to Charley.
It was not long until he found tracks that he said were fox tracks, and in various places on the marsh set three traps, which were considerably larger than those set for marten or mink, and had two springs instead of one, and he used much greater care in setting them than in setting those for marten and mink. With his sheathknife he cut out a square of snow, and excavated in the snow a place large enough to accommodate the trap. Over the trap a thin crust of snow was placed, and so carefully fitted that its location was hardly discernible. In like manner the chain, which was attached to the root of a scrubby spruce tree, was also concealed. From a carefully wrapped package on his flatsled Skipper Zeb produced some ill-smelling meat, and this he scattered upon the snow over and around the trap.
"They likes meat that smells bad," he explained, "and I'm thinkin' that smells bad enough for un."
Evening was falling when suddenly through the forest there glinted the waters of a lake, and here on its shores Skipper Zeb told them they were to camp for the night. A home-made cotton tent, small but amply large enough for the three, was quicklypitched and a tent stove set up. Then while Toby and Charley gathered boughs and laid the bed, Skipper Zeb cut a supply of wood for the night, and before the boys had finished the bed he was frying in the pan a delicious supper of partridges, which he and Toby had shot during the afternoon.
Charley was sure he had never been so tired in his life. It had been a long day of steady walking, save for the brief stops when Skipper Zeb halted to set a trap, and the snow and turns at hauling the flatsled had made it the harder. He lay back upon his sleeping bag chatting with Toby and watching Skipper Zeb prepare supper. How cozy and luxurious the tent was! The pleasant fragrance of spruce and balsam would have put him to sleep at once, had it not been for the pleasanter fragrance of the frying partridges and a hunger that increased with every minute.
When the meal was eaten Charley's eyes were so heavy that it was little short of torture to keep them open, and he slipped into his sleeping bag, and in an instant had fallen into dreamless, restful sleep.
How long he had been sleeping he did not know, when suddenly he found himselfawake and alert. Something had aroused him, and he sat up and listened. For a time he heard nothing, save the heavy breathing of Skipper Zeb and Toby, and he was about to lie down again when there came the sound of footsteps in the slightly crusted snow outside. Some animal was prowling cautiously about the tent sniffing at its side. The moon was shining, and suddenly he saw the shadowy outline, against the canvas, of a great beast that he knew to be a timber wolf.
He was about to reach over to Skipper Zeb to wake him, when all at once the stillness was broken by a terrifying, heartrending howl, rising and falling in mournful cadence, and echoing through the forest behind them. The howling creature was separated from Charley only by the thickness of the canvas, and Charley's blood ran cold.
XITHE WORST FIX OF ALL
Skipper Zeb and Toby sat up hurriedly, and without an instant's hesitation Skipper Zeb slipped on his moccasins, reached for his rifle and left the tent. A moment later there came the report of his rifle.
The boys awaited eagerly his return, and when presently he reentered the tent it was to report:
"'Twere an old she wolf, but I misses she. 'Twere just one alone. I'm thinkin' we may be findin' deer signs up the path. Wolves follow the deer."
"Will the wolf come back? And is it dangerous?" asked Charley, the terrifying echo of its howl still in his ears.
"We'll never seesheagain," said Skipper Zeb, settling in his sleeping bag to resume his interrupted rest. "That un won't be dangerous, whatever. If she keeps goin' as smart as she started she'll be over the height o' land by to-morrow night this time," and hechuckled with the recollection of the frightened wolf's speed.
Farther and farther into the wilderness they went. It seemed to Charley that they had left the whole world behind them, and that the forest and barrens through which they trod had swallowed them up, and he wondered if they would ever be able to find their way back to Black River tilt and the boat. Had he been left alone he would not have known in which direction to turn.
The silence was total. There was never a sound to break it at night, and during the day none save the harsh voice of the Labrador jay, which came begging for food whenever they boiled the kettle, and was so fearless it would almost take crumbs from the hand; or the incessant dee-dee-dee of the chickadee, a much pleasanter companion of the trail, Charley thought, than the jay. Once, in the evening, they heard the honk of a flock of wild geese passing south.
"They're a bit late," observed Skipper Zeb. "They'll be bidin' in a pond a step to the west'ard from here, and feedin' in the marnin'. I gets geese there sometimes, and I'm thinkin' I'll take a look at break o' day and see if I can knock one or two of un over."
Accordingly, the following morning after they had eaten breakfast and just as dawn was breaking, he left the boys, and a half hour later returned with three fat geese.
"We'll cache un here," said he, "and when we comes back take un with us, and you lads can take un home."
On Wednesday night they had the shelter of a tilt, which Skipper Zeb called "Long Lake tilt," and on Friday evening they reached "Big Lake tilt" and the end of the trail.
"Here we stops till Monday," Skipper Zeb announced. "'Twill give you lads a chance to rest up."
"That's great! It's the longest and hardest hike I ever had," said Charley. "I'll tell Dad about it when I get home, and he'll think I could have stood the Newfoundland hike he wouldn't take me on. I'll bet it wasn't half as hard as this one!"
"You'll be gettin' as strong as a young bear, lad, and as toughened up as a wolverine before you leaves The Labrador," chuckled Skipper Zeb.
"Mother'll be scared when I tell her what I've done here," said Charley, "but Dad will be proud of it. They never thought I coulddoanythinghard, and never let me do anything much. They'll know now what I can do!"
"We never knows what we can do till we tries un," commented Skipper Zeb.
The following morning Skipper Zeb did not wake the boys, but left them to sleep while he slipped away alone to set traps in the forest and marshes along the lake shore. It was broad day when they awoke, and when they had eaten Toby suggested:
"We'll be goin' out with my rifle and try shootin' at a mark."
"May I shoot?" asked Charley eagerly. "I never shot a gun in my life and I'd like to learn!"
"'Tis easy," assured Toby. "I'll be showin' you how, and you'll be learnin' quick."
Before they left the tilt Toby instructed Charley in how to fill the magazine and how to manipulate the lever, impressing all the time upon his pupil the necessity of caution, and telling tales of two or three of his acquaintances who had been shot through the careless handling of firearms.
When Charley had learned the rudiments of gun handling to Toby's satisfaction, theywent a little way down the lake shore, and selecting a bank as a background, in order, Toby told Charley, that bullets that missed the mark might not go crashing through the forest, but would be buried in the earth, he fastened a small square of white birchbark upon a spruce tree, to serve as a target, and retired with Charley to a distance of about fifty yards from it.
"Now try a shot," Toby directed.
"How do you hold the rifle steady?" asked Charley who found the muzzle wabbling woefully.
Toby, with much patience, illustrated the method of placing the feet, the position in which to stand, how to hold the arm, and how to aim properly.
"Now don't pull un with a jerk. Hold your breath and squeeze the trigger hand together all at once, so she goes off almost without your knowin' when she goes."
Charley proved himself an apt pupil, and after a few shots rarely missed the target.
Skipper Zeb did not return to the tilt for dinner, and after the boys had eaten Toby suggested that they stroll up the lake shore in the hope that they might get a shot at some partridges.
"May I carry your rifle and try to shoot them if we see any?" asked Charley eagerly.
"Aye," agreed Toby, "'twill be fine for you to try un, now you knows how to shoot."
Charley took the rifle eagerly, and this time took the lead, as the hunter. They had walked but a short distance when Toby whispered:
"Drop quick!"
"What is it?" whispered Charley, as both dropped to the ground and Toby crawled up beside him.
"Deer!" whispered Toby. "See un! Right ahead!"
Then for the first time Charley saw a big caribou, nosing in the snow and feeding leisurely.
"What'll I do?" asked Charley.
"'Tis a fine shot!" answered Toby. "Be wonderful careful o' your aim, and shoot!"
Charley was all atremble as he brought the rifle to his shoulder for his first shot at any game. In spite of all he could do, the muzzle of the rifle would not behave, and before he was aware of it he pulled the trigger, and the shot went wild.
"Try un again! Try un again before he runs!" plead Toby.
Charley fired again and then again, but with no better success, and the caribou, now taking alarm, turned and disappeared into the forest.
"You misses that un," said Toby, not in the least perturbed, now that the caribou had gone. "'Tis hard to hit un the first time you tries."
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" and Charley could scarce control his voice in excitement and disappointment. "It was nearer than the target we shot at! HowcouldI miss it?"
"You gets nervous the first time you tries, the way most folks does," soothed Toby. "Next time you'll get un."
It was Thursday evening of the following week when they again reached the tilt at Black River and the boat. Both boys were tired but happy, and Charley, who had shot his first partridge with Toby's rifle that morning, told Skipper Zeb that he had had the best time he ever had in all his life.
"That's the way to talk, lad! That's the way!" and Skipper Zeb slapped him on the shoulder, his characteristic method of expressing approval. "You has the makin's in you of a fine trapper and hunter. You fits yourself to what you has to meet and todo, whether 'tis a bit hard or whether 'tis easy. 'Twere a long way for young legs that's not used to un. Bein' on the path settin' up traps is a wonderful sight different from bein' snug and warm with a good bed o' nights at home. You lads stands un like old hands at un."
"Thank you, Skipper," and Charley was proud, as was Toby, at the word of praise. Every one likes to be praised for an act well done, or done to the best of one's ability, and Skipper Zeb, who in a crude way was a student of human nature, and carried a gentle, affectionate heart in his bosom, never failed to speak a word of praise where it was deserved. He knew that a kindly word of appreciation for a deed well done, often proved an incentive to greater effort. A little flower handed to the living is better than a wreath placed upon the casket of the dead. Skipper Zeb gave his flowers of kindliness to those about him while they lived and could enjoy them.
"Now, lads," said Skipper Zeb when they had finished their evening meal, and he was puffing his pipe comfortably by the warm stove, "I has a line o' traps to set up to the east'ard of the tilt that I weren't settin' upbefore we goes in, and two days' work to do about here whatever. We've been havin' a long spell o' fine weather like we mostly has before winter sets in hard. The wind is shiftin', and before to-morrow night, whatever, there'll be snow. Early in the marnin' I thinks you had better start back with the boat, and be gettin' snug at Double Up Cove before the snow comes."
"When'll you be gettin' home, Dad?" asked Toby.
"I'll be gettin' home the Saturday or Sunday before Christmas, whatever," promised Skipper Zeb, "and I'll be stayin' for a fortnight holiday when I comes."
"Won't you be home before then?" asked Charley in astonishment.
"No, I has to keep tendin' the traps once I sets un," explained Skipper Zeb. "'Tis the only way to get fur."
"I should think you'd get dreadfully lonesome on the trail alone," said Charley, "and we'll miss you."
"A busy man's not havin' time to get lonesome. 'Tis only idleness that makes for lonesomeness."
The sky was heavily clouded the following morning, and a brisk northeasterlybreeze, cold and raw, was blowing. Toby and Charley bade good-bye to Skipper Zeb, and hoisting the sail departed for Double Up Cove.
"The breeze'll be helpin' you now," shouted Skipper Zeb from the shore. "Make the most of un, and don't be takin' too much time to boil the kettle at Swile Island!"
"Aye," shouted Toby, "we'll be makin' the most of un."
Charley watched Skipper Zeb standing on the shore and looking longingly after them, and then turn back to his lonely work in the wilderness, and he, himself, felt suddenly very lonely.
With unexpected suddenness the wind rose to half a gale before they had spanned two-thirds of the distance to Swile Island. The boat shipped several seas, and while Charley bailed the water out, all of Toby's seamanship was required to keep her on her course, until at length, to their great relief, a landing was made on the lee side of the island.
"I was sure we'd be wrecked again!" exclaimed Charley when he and Toby, dripping wet, had hauled the prow of the boat upon the sloping rock of the island shore.
"'Twere a bit rough," admitted Toby. "We'll have to bide here till the wind goes down, and I'm thinkin' there'll be snow before we gets the kettle boiled."
"And we haven't any tent!" exclaimed Charley in consternation.
"We'll be makin' a lean-to with the sail," suggested Toby. "We'll not find un so bad. We'll make un before we boils the kettle."
The boat was unloaded, and under the lee of a big rock, where they were protected from the wind also by a grove of spruce trees, Toby selected two trees about seven feet apart, and five feet from the ground and lashed a pole from tree to tree. He then cut several poles, and arranged them evenly with one end resting upon the pole which he had lashed to the tree and the other end sloping back to the ground. To make the sloping poles secure and hold them in place, he laid another pole between the trees, and on top of the sloping poles, lashing this also firmly into place, and then placed a log over the ends of the poles on the ground to hold them in position.
With Charley's assistance he now spread the boat sail over the poles, and tied it into place. Then at each end of the lean-to beand Charley placed a thick barricade of spruce brush. A floor of boughs finished and made comfortable the shelter, and a fire built against a rock in front of it, that the rock might serve as a reflector, soon made the lean-to warm and snug.
There was no abatement of wind, and snow was falling thickly before they had finished eating, and when they were through, Toby suggested:
"I'm thinkin' we'd better haul the boat up farther and turn she over."
"All right," agreed Charley, "let's do it now. It don't look as though we'd get off the island to-day."
"Not till the wind stops, whatever," said Toby. "We may have to bide here two or three days,I'mthinkin'."
This was a new adventure. Charley rather enjoyed the prospect of it, and Toby perhaps equally as well, and as they walked down to their landing place they chatted merrily about what they would do, when all at once both boys stopped and looked at each other aghast. The boat was not there!
"She's gone!" exclaimed Toby. "The tide were risin' up and floatin' she off!"
"What shall we do?" asked Charley indismay. "We can't get off the island without a boat!"
"'Tis a bad fix," confessed Toby. "They's no way o' gettin' off the island without the boat. I'm not knowin' rightly what to do. 'Tis the worst fix Ieverwere in!"
The snow was now falling heavily, driven in thick, swirling clouds by the gale. Everywhere they looked along the shore, in the vain hope that the boat may have drifted in at some other point, and eagerly they looked out into the drifting clouds of snow in the equally vain hope that it might be seen floating near enough to the shore to be recovered by some means. But nowhere was it to be seen, and the two boys, depressed by a sense of helplessness to extricate themselves from the small, isolated and nearly barren island that had so suddenly become their prison, turned back to the partial protection of their improvised shelter.
Disconsolate, they sat under the lean-to and talked over their dilemma while the snow beyond the fire grew thicker, and the wind shrieked and howled dismally through the trees.
"You thinks 'twere bad when the ship leaves you at Pinch-In Tickle," said Tobyfinally, "but we're gettin' in a wonderful sight worse fix!"
"Yes," agreed Charley dejectedly, "of all that's happened, this is the worst fix of all."
"All we has to eat," continued Toby, "is half a loaf o' bread, a small bit o' pork and enough tea for one or two days, besides the three geese Dad were sendin' home to Mother."
"Perhaps we can get some game on the island?" suggested Charley.
"No," said Toby, "they's no game here. 'Tis too small an island."
"Is any one likely to come this way in a boat?" asked Charley hopefully.
"No," answered Toby discouragingly. "We're clost to the head o' the bay, and nobody ever comes here except Dad. We're sure in a wonderful bad fix, Charley."