XVIA WALL OF SNOW
Several times he fell, and regaining his feet rushed madly and blindly about in vain hope of finding the lost trail and escaping the doom that seemed closing in upon him. The snow clouds were like dense walls, and he, like a child, in puny effort wildly trying to batter them down to gain his freedom.
Finally exhaustion overtook him, and with it a degree of reason. His legs were weak and quivering with their effort. He began to realize that he had been depending upon them to extricate him from the trackless marsh in which he wandered, instead of using reason. Limp and trembling as a result of the mad fear that had taken possession of him, and the tremendous physical exertion he had been putting forth, he stopped and with wild, still frightened eyes gazed at the walls of snow that surrounded him like an impassable barrier.
Then his brain began to function and his reason to return. He knew that he mustreach the cover of the forest, where the trees would shelter him from the blasts that swept the marsh. There he would find some measure of protection at least, and in any case the forest lay between him and the cabin at Double Up Cove.
He recalled that time and again Toby had said to him, "Dad's wonderful fine at gettin' out o' fixes, and he always does un by usin' his head." And Skipper Zeb himself had said, "When a man gets into a fix 'tis mostly because he don't use his head, and 'tis his head has to get he out of un. His legs and his hands won't help he, unless his head tells un what to do."
That was logical and reasonable. He was now in a "fix," and a worse fix indeed than that in which he and Toby had found themselves on Swile Island. Charley crouched with his back to the snow-laden blasts while he tried to gather his senses and his poise, and these thoughts flashing through his mind, gave him courage. It was bitterly cold and he knew that he must soon find shelter or he would perish. In his mad panic, he had not only lost knowledge of direction, but had expended much of his strength.
Slowly it occurred to him that the windblew across the marsh from the direction of the forest and toward the barrens, and was in his back when he followed the ptarmigans. This being the case, he reasoned, he mustfacethe wind to regain the forest.
He was somewhere in the marsh. He knew that. The forest must lieupthe wind. It was suffocating and paralyzing work to face it, but in that direction alone lay the only chance for escape and safety. His very life depended upon reaching the forest, and reaching it soon, and he turned boldly to it.
With renewed courage, he fought his way forward step by step. He would walk but a little way, when dense snow clouds would force him to turn his back upon them to regain his breath. But he kept going, now and again stumbling and falling and then getting to his feet again to stumble on a little farther. The distance seemed interminable, and several times he was on the point of giving up the struggle in despair.
Then it was that he collided with a tree. An outpost of the forest! His heart leaped with hope. With renewed vigour he plunged forward into wind and snow cloud, and a moment later was under the blessed shelter of the trees.
The wind raged through the tree tops, but the thick growth of the spruce forest protected him. He did not know where he was, and could see no familiar thing. Finally, too weary to go farther, he crawled under the low branches of a tree to rest.
Charley was dozing and half unconscious when a distant crash startled him into wakefulness. What could it have been? He listened intently. Then it came again, and he sprang to his feet excitedly. He had no doubt now. It was the report of a rifle, and some one was within hearing.
Through all his struggle in the marsh, Charley had unconsciously clung to Toby's shotgun. He fired one barrel, and then the other. An answering shot rang out above the roar of the wind, and not so far away now. He ran in the direction from which it came. Then came another shot, now quite near, and a moment later he saw Toby hurrying toward him.
Charley's heart leaped with joy and relief. How good Toby looked! Dear Toby, who always seemed to be on hand when he was needed!
"You looks fair scragged!" greeted Toby. "Were you gettin' lost?"
"Lost—I was lost out on the barrens and the marsh!" and Charley was scarce able to choke back tears of joy and relief.
Toby after the manner of woodsmen had brought his ax. He quickly cut some wood, and in a few moments had a rousing fire. Then he cut some poles, and made a lean-to, which he thatched thickly with boughs, and within it made a couch of boughs where they could sit before the fire protected from the storm.
While Toby prepared and broiled two of the ptarmigans, Charley told the story of his experiences.
"I was scared stiff," said Charley in closing. "If I had done as you told me to do, and gone straight home when the snow began it wouldn't have happened. But I didn't know a storm could come up like that, or how bad it could get in a few minutes."
"You were usin' your head when you goes up the wind, and that gets you out of a wonderful bad fix," said Toby. "Dad says the only way to get out of fixes is to use your head, and he knows."
There was never a word of reproach from Toby for not having heeded his advice, and for this Charley was grateful.
XVIISKIPPER ZEB'S DOGS
Long Tom Ham was glad to have the care of Skipper Zeb's dogs during the summer. There was always enough food from the sea for them during the fishing season, and a supply of seal meat from the spring sealing to feed them in the fall, after the fishing season was ended. And to compensate him for caring for the dogs, he had them to haul his winter's wood in from the forest, before returning them to Skipper Zeb, which he always did after the bay was frozen and his fall hauling was finished.
In summer, with no work to do, and as much to eat as ever they wished, the dogs were sleek and fat and lazy, and quite harmless. But with the close of the fishing season they were given but one meal a day, and that in the evening, and only enough to keep them strong and in good condition, for fat dogs will not work well.
With frosty weather and less food they roused from their lethargy. Then it wasthat they became savage, snapping creatures, with no more affection for man than has the wild wolf, which was their ancestor. Long Tom Ham declared that Skipper Zeb's dogs were the most "oncivil team of dogs he ever knew."
Toby and Charley, a week after the big storm, were returning home at midday after a morning in the forest setting marten traps, when, just as they came around the corner of the cabin, and the bay below them came into view, Toby exclaimed:
"There's Skipper Tom comin' with the dogs and komatik!"[6]
For the first time in his life Charley saw dogs in harness. They were still a half mile away, the animals spread out in fan-shaped formation, and trotting leisurely. As they approached nearer the cabin they broke into a run, as though eager to reach their destination, and with short yelps swung off of the ice and came charging up to the cabin where Charley and Toby were awaiting them.
Skipper Tom Ham, his beard encrusted with ice, disembarked from the komatik, and Charley thought him the tallest man he had ever seen.
"'Ere I ham, and 'ow are you hall?" greeted Skipper Tom through his ice mask, as he extended a hand to Toby and then to Charley.
"We're all well," said Toby. "Were you gettin' your wood all hauled?"
"Aye, hall my wood is 'auled, and I'm most thankful I 'ad the dogs to 'aul un, and most thankful to be rid of un. So Hi'm twice thankful," said Skipper Tom following Toby and Charley into the house to join them at dinner, picking the ice from his beard as he talked.
"Them's the most honcivil dogs I knows," remarked Skipper Tom, as he ate. "Hi comes 'ome from my traps last hevenin' and I sees Martha sittin' hup on the scaffold where I keeps the dog meat, and the dogs hall haround lookin' at 'er. When she sees me she yells the dogs be hafter 'er, and I says to 'er that they thinks she his goin' to feed 'em, and she says she thinks they his goin' to heat 'er. Hi tells 'er to come down, and she comes, and when we gets hinto the 'ouse she says, 'Tom, you take them dogs right hover to Skipper Zeb's,' and so Hi brings the honcivil beasts hover."
Tom chuckled at the recollection of hiswife's fear and her appearance on the scaffold the evening before. When he was through he said he must return at once, or Martha would think the dogs had eaten him. Toby suggested taking Skipper Tom home with dogs and komatik, but Skipper Tom declined on the ground that it was just a wee bit of a walk, and he would rather walk and look for partridges along shore as he went. The ten mile walk to Lucky Bight was no hardship to Skipper Tom.
The coming of the dogs was an exciting incident to Charley. They were big, handsome creatures, though with a fierce, evil look, and a sneaking manner that made Charley feel uncomfortable when they were loosed from harness, and had liberty to prowl about at will.
"'Tis a wonderful team," Toby declared proudly. "They comes from Nuth'ard dogs, though we raises they all from pups. Some of un has wild wolves for fathers. Tinker there is one, and so are Rocks and Sampson. They comes from the same litter. That un over there is Nancy. I names she from a schooner that calls at Pinch-In Tickle every spring. That un next she, with the end of his tail gone, is Traps. Whilst he were apup he gets the end of his tail in a trap, and loses the end of un. I remember his howlin' yet! Nancy and Traps be brother and sister. Tucker and Skipper and Molly are the names of the others. We gets un from the Post when they's just weaned and are wee pups. They tells us they has wild wolf fathers too, but I'm not knowin'."
"That man that brought them told me, when I went to pat one of them on the head, that they were bad, and not to touch them," said Charley.
"You can't trust un," admitted Toby. "I knows un all, and I plays with un when they's pups, but if I were trippin' and fallin' down among un now, I'm not doubtin' they's tear me abroad."
"After you raised them from pups, and always had them, and feed them and everything?" asked Charley, horrified at the suggestion.
"Aye, they has no care for man, and whilst they'll mind me a wonderful sight better than they'd be mindin' a stranger to un, they'd be tearin' me abroad if they has the chance just like a band o' wolves," warned Toby.
"They don't look so terrible, though theydo look sneaky, as you told me the other day they are," said Charley.
"Aye, sneaky, and as I tells you, 'tis never safe to go abroad among un unless you has a stick in your hand, and if they comes close strike at un. They're wonderful afraid of a stick. When they gets used to you, just kick at un, and 'twill keep un off, and then you won't be needin' a stick."
"I'll look out for them," Charley promised.
"Tinker's the leader in harness," said Toby. "He were always quick to learn, and I trains he whilst he were a pup when I plays with he before he's big enough to drive with the other dogs. Sampson's the boss, and out of harness he has his will of un. He's a bad fighter."
"He's an ugly looking brute," observed Charley.
"With the dogs about you'll be wantin' to learn to use the whip," suggested Toby. "They fears un worse than a stick. 'Tis fine sport to learn to crack un, and you'll soon learn to do that, whatever."
Toby brought forth the dog whip. It was a cruel looking instrument, with a lash of braided walrus hide, thirty-five feet inlength, and a heavy wooden handle about eighteen inches long. Toby was quite expert in its use. He could snap it with a report like a pistol shot, and at twenty-five or thirty feet distance he could, with the tip of the whip, strike a chip that was no bigger than a half dollar. When he had given an exhibition of his skill, he passed the whip to Charley.
"Now you try to snap un," said he.
It was great fun learning to handle the long whip, and though in his first awkward attempts Charley sometimes wound the lash around his own neck, where it left a red, smarting ring, with much practice he learned, in the course of two or three days, to snap it fairly well and without danger to himself.
During the days that followed Toby and Charley used the dogs and sledge, or komatik, as Toby called it, to haul wood that Toby had cut in the near-by forest. During this time Charley was gradually becoming familiar with the dogs, and sometimes Toby would permit him to guide the komatik, though he himself was always present to exact obedience from the team.
The wood hauling was done in the afternoon,while the mornings were devoted to a visit to the rabbit snares and several marten traps, which Toby had set in the woods, and to the two fox traps on the marsh. Five fine martens had been caught, but no fox had been lured into either trap, when Toby suggested one morning, three weeks after the arrival of the dogs, that they drive the team on the coast ice to a point opposite the marsh, and by a short cut through the forest drive out upon the marsh.
"I'm thinkin' if we moves the fox traps from the mesh to the barrens we'd be gettin' a fox there," said he. "'Twould be a long walk out to the barrens to tend un, but if we takes the dogs and komatik we'd have good travelin' for un everywhere exceptin' through the short neck of woods."
"Let's do!" Charley agreed enthusiastically. "It'll be a lot quicker, and it will give us a fine trip with the dogs every day when we go to look at the traps."
And so it was arranged, and so it came to pass that on that very day Charley met with his first adventure with the dogs, and a most unusual one it was, as Toby declared.
While it was nearly twice as far to the marsh by this roundabout route, the bay icewas in excellent condition for the dogs, and they traveled so briskly that they arrived at the point where they were to turn into the woods much too soon for Charley. Here in the deep snow it was necessary for them to tramp a trail for the dogs with their snowshoes, but the distance was short to the marsh, and once there the dogs again had a good hard bottom to walk upon.
Toby took up the two fox traps, and drove the team to the edge of the barrens, where the dogs were brought to a stop, and under the threat of the whip compelled to lie down.
"'Tis rocky and bad travelin' in here, and if we takes the komatik we'll have to help the dogs pull un some places," said Toby. "The wind sends the snow abroad from the rocks, and plenty of places they're bare. I'm thinkin' now if you stays with the dogs and komatik, I'll go and set the traps. I'll be back in half an hour, whatever."
"All right," agreed Charley. "I'll stay with them."
"If they tries to get up, take the whip and make un lie down," Toby directed. "Keep un lyin' down."
Toby strode away upon his snowshoes, and quickly disappeared over a low knoll. Forthe first time Charley was alone with the dogs, and he felt some pride in the fact that they were under his direction.
Suddenly Sampson became restless, and he and Tinker rose to their feet. Charley snapped the whip over them, and reluctantly they lay down.
But it was only for a moment. All of the dogs had their noses in the air, and before Charley could quiet them they were all on their feet restlessly sniffing the air. Charley swung the whip, and shouted at them to lie down, but they were beyond his control, and would not lie down, but jumped and strained at their traces, giving out short whines and howls. He struck at Sampson with the butt end of the whip, and Sampson snapped at him with ugly fangs, and would have sprung upon him had the dog's trace not held him in leash.
Then the komatik broke loose. Charley threw himself upon it, still clinging to the whip, as the dogs, at a mad gallop, turned across a neck of the marsh and toward a low hill that rose at the edge of the barrens and a quarter of a mile to the westward.
The komatik bounced from side to side with every hummock of ice it struck, andseveral times was in imminent danger of overturning. Charley shouted "Ah! Ah!" at the top of his voice in vain effort to stop the mad beasts, and then "Ouk! Ouk! Ouk!" and "Rahder! Rahder! Rahder!" in the hope that they would swing to the right or to the left and return to the starting point.
But on they went, howling more excitedly and going faster and faster until, suddenly, at the farther side of the neck of marsh and at the very edge of the barrens, the komatik struck a rock and with the impact the bridle, a line of walrus hide which connected the dogs' traces to the komatik, snapped. The yelping, howling dogs, freed from the komatik, ran wildly and eagerly on, and soon passed over the lower slopes of the hill and out of sight.
Charley, dazed at what had happened, watched the dogs disappear. Then, in sudden realization that they had escaped from him and were gone, he ran after them calling them excitedly but vainly.
He had not run far when all at once he saw them swing down over the brow of the hill toward the komatik, and he turned about and ran to the komatik to intercept them with thewhip, which he was still dragging. The dogs were before him, a snarling, fighting mass. He was sure they would tear each other to pieces. He was about to lay the whip upon them when to his amazement he discovered that there were many more than eight dogs fighting, and that the strangers were even more ferocious creatures than those of the team, and wore no harness.
He brought down his whip upon the savage mass. Immediately one of the strange animals turned upon him, showing its gleaming white fangs, and with short, snapping yelps was about to spring at him, when Sampson, taking advantage of the animal's diverted attention, snapped his fangs into its neck.
Then it was that the truth dawned upon Charley. The strange beasts were not dogs, but a pack of the terrible northern wolves of which he had heard. It was plain, too, that the dogs were no match for them, and then the thought came to him that he had no firearms and no means of protecting himself against them.
XVIIITHE FIGHT WITH THE WOLVES
A Cold sweat broke out upon Charley's body. His knees went limp. He felt like one receiving the sentence of death. He was sure that he would presently be torn to pieces by the savage beasts.
The wolves were getting the better of the fight. They were one less in number than the dogs, but the dogs were hampered by their harness, and they were not as free to spring aside and snap at their enemy as were the wolves. Tucker and Traps, bleeding and mangled, were falling back and trying to escape. The other dogs were fighting valiantly, but they were fighting a losing fight, and Charley's untrained eyes could see that there would soon be an end of it, with the wolves victors.
Toby had taken his rifle with him, and Charley was unarmed. There was no chance for defence, and no escape. There was not a tree nearer than the farther side of the marsh that he could climb, and long beforehe could reach the woods the fight would be over and the wolves would be after him.
His eyes, as he looked helplessly about, fell upon an ax tucked under the lashings of the komatik. With nervous hands he drew it forth, and held it ready to strike at the first attacking animal.
Sampson and a big gray wolf were facing each other, and each maneuvering for an opening to snap at the other's throat. The wolf's back was toward Charley, and not two paces away. With a sudden impulse he sprang forward and brought the ax down upon the creature's head. It fell and lay still. He had killed it with one blow.
The two wolves that were attacking Tucker and Traps, sensing a new and more formidable enemy, turned upon Charley. Swinging his ax he held them at bay, while they crouched, watching for an opening, their lips drawn back from their ugly fangs, while with ferocious snaps and yelps they voiced their defiance.
Then came the sharp report of a rifle, and one of the wolves fell. Then another report, and the other crumpled by the side of its dead mate.
The remainder of the pack, suddenlyaware of a new and unknown danger, broke from the dogs and ran, with bullets from Toby's rifle raising little spurts of snow around them until they disappeared over a spur of the hill.
"I hears the fightin'," said Toby, "and I runs as fast as I can. I sees you knock that un over with the ax. 'Twere wonderful plucky, Charley, to fight un with an ax."
Charley sank, weak and trembling, upon the komatik.
"I—thought—they'd—kill—me," he said.
"'Twere lucky I hears un." Toby stooped and felt of the fur of one of those he had shot. "They's prime, and we gets three of un, whatever. They pays six dollars for wolf skins at the post, and we'll be gettin' eighteen dollars for un. The dogs gets cut up some, but not so bad, and they'll get over un."
Charley made no response. He was not interested in the character or value of the fur. He was too close to the peril from which he had escaped. He had been face to face with what he had believed to be certain death. How could Toby treat the incident with so little concern, and apparently with so little appreciation of the grave dangerjust ended? He was giving first thought to the value of the pelts, as though that mattered in the least.
Toby, on his part, did not in any degree deprecate the peril in which Charley had been placed, but now that it was ended, why should he talk about it or even think about it? This was a habit of his life, a life of unremitting endeavour in a stern land with its own dangers and adventures which Toby accepted as a matter of course and to be expected. In his city streets Charley might dodge an automobile at a crossing and escape with his life by a hair's breadth, but Charley would scarcely give such an adventure a second thought. But to Toby such would have been an adventure to think and talk about and to remember with a thrill.
To Toby now, the matter of chief importance was the fact that he and Charley had earned the trade value of three wolf pelts, which was eighteen dollars, and that was a good day's wages. The danger was at an end and behind them, and no longer worth a thought; the reward was before them, and Toby began immediately, as a habit of life, to enjoy it in anticipation.
While life warmth was still in the carcasses,the boys turned their attention to the removal of the pelts, after first securing the dogs and repairing the broken bridle. As Charley worked his interest in his trophy grew, and he was as proud of it as he had ever been of anything in his life. He had killed a wolf at close quarters! It was an achievement to be proud of, and what normal boy or man would not have been proud of it?
This was the first pelt that Charley had ever secured by his own effort, and when they reached home he insisted upon stretching it himself, with a word or two of advice from Toby. Then, with a sheathknife, and with much pride, he scraped it free from every particle of clinging flesh and fat.
None of the dogs, as an examination disclosed, was seriously injured, though Tucker and Traps had suffered severe lacerations from the wolf fangs, and these two were relieved from team work for several days.
During the week following the adventure with the wolves, good fortune smiled upon the young hunters. More martens were captured, increasing the number of marten pelts to nine, and Toby shot an otter.
But the crowning event of the winter, and,Toby was sure, the big event of his life, came two days after the fox traps had been removed from the marsh to the barrens, when Toby found in one of them a silver fox. They all declared, as did Long Tom Ham, who came over from Lucky Bight to see the pelt, that it was the blackest, thickest and longest furred, and glossiest silver fox they had ever seen.
"'Tis rare fine fur," said Mrs. Twig, shaking out the pelt and holding it up to admire it when it was finally dry and Toby had removed it from the board that it might be packed carefully and safely away in one of the chests.
"Aye," boasted Toby, "'tis that. 'Twill be worth five hundred dollars at the post, or four hundredwhatever."
"Now we'll not have to skimp so with things," said Mrs. Twig happily. "The silver'll get us a wonderful lot o' things we needs, and 'twill pay the debt at the post."
"We has the marten skins, too," said Toby. "They's worth at the post thirty dollars apiece, good martens like they. Skipper Tom Ham says that be the price this year for good black martens, and all we has is black. I'm thinkin' the otter'll be bringin' fifty dollarswhatever. 'Tis a wonderful fine skin o' fur."
"You and Charley were wonderful lucky gettin' fur," said Mrs. Twig in praise.
In another ten days Skipper Zeb would come home from his trapping grounds to bring the pelts he had captured, and to take back with him, after a fortnight's rest, a fresh supply of provisions.
Skipper Zeb's mid-winter return was always an occasion for great rejoicing, but this winter it would have an added flavour of joy. All of them were keenly anxious that he see the silver fox pelt, and Toby declared he could hardly wait to show it to him.
"'Twill be a rare treat for he, now," said Toby.
It was an event, indeed. Even Skipper Zeb had never in all his life caught a silver fox. Toby and Charley were justly proud, too, of their success in catching martens. Skipper Zeb had smiled indulgently when Toby had told him that with Charley's help he would set some marten traps, and Skipper Zeb's only remark had been, "'Twill be fine practice for you lads," never expecting that they would get a pelt. Indeed, Toby's previous winter's trapping had resulted in nothingbut rabbits, but that was due, Toby had complained, to the fact that his mother had not permitted him to go so far alone into the forest. But this year he was older, and with Charley's companionship she had made no restrictions upon bounds.
"And there are the wolf skins," said Toby. "I wants Charley to take un home with he when he goes next summer on the mail boat. 'Twere he that fought for un, and they belongs to he."
"Aye, they belongs to Charley," agreed Mrs. Twig, "and half the martens too. If 'tweren't for Charley bein' here to go along with you, you couldn't have got un, with all the work you were havin' to do with the wood, to make you bide home. If Charley were havin' a rifle when he meets the wolves he'd have got more of un, and the dogs wouldn't have got cut up so bad."
"I wish I had a rifle," Charley suggested eagerly. "I've got sixty dollars my father gave me before I left him. Is there anywhere I could buy one with that?"
"You'll be needin' that to pay your passage back home," Mrs. Twig counseled. "You needs some warm underclothes, and I'm thinkin' now you and Toby might takethe dogs and komatik and go to Skipper Cy Blink's tradin' store at Deer Harbour, and take three of the marten skins and trade un in for a rifle and what you needs, and Toby can get some things we're needin' in the house."
"Oh, I wish we could!" Charley exclaimed. "But the skins aren't really mine," he added more soberly. "I owe you a lot for keeping me here, and for all you've done for me, but Dad will pay you for that when I get home."
"You owes us nothing," declared Mrs. Twig, a little out of patience that Charley should have suggested it. "You pays for all you gets in work, and half the skins be yours, whatever."
"Thank you," said Charley gratefully, "but I can't help feeling that you're doing a lot more for me than I deserve, and I'm sure a good deal more than I've earned."
"You earns all of un, and more than you gets," insisted Mrs. Twig kindly. "'Tis wonderful fine to have you here with Toby, and we're gettin' to think so much you belongs to us 'twill be a rare hard thing to see you go. You lads better be startin' for Deer Harbour in the marnin'. You'll be reachin'Pinch-In Tickle by noon, whatever, with the fine footin' for the dogs, and Deer Harbour by night. Comin' back the next day you can bide the night at Pinch-In Tickle, and fetch back the fishin' gear that needs mendin', so 'twill be here to work on when they's time to work on un."
Charley and Toby were as excited as they could be, and that evening all arrangements were made for an early start in the morning. It was to be Charley's first long dog journey, and that night he lay awake a long time thinking of the wonderful journey he was to have, and of the new rifle he was to buy.
XIXCHARLEY'S NEW RIFLE
Breakfast was eaten early, and long before daylight, which in that latitude does not come at this season until nearly ten o'clock. Toby and Charley brought the komatik box into the cabin that Mrs. Twig might pack it for them.
In a cotton bag as a protection, the precious marten pelts were stored in the bottom of the box. Then came the provisions consisting of hardtack, which would not freeze as would ordinary bread, tea, a bottle of molasses, a liberal quantity of salt pork, and the necessary cooking utensils. As a precaution in case of accident some extra duffle socks, and an extra pair of buckskin moccasins were included for each, and Toby added some cartridges for his rifle.
The box packed, it was lashed upon the rear of the komatik, and on the floor of the sledge, in front of the box, Toby spread an untanned caribou skin, and upon it lashed their sleeping bags, securing his rifle and anax under the lashings, and tying to them his own and Charley's snowshoes.
"Look out for bad ice, and be wonderful careful on the ballicaders,"[7]cautioned Mrs. Twig, as Toby broke the komatik loose and the dogs dashed away down the decline to the bay ice.
A big full moon lighted the ice, which stretched before them for miles in an unbroken white sheet. Rime filled the air, and soon their clothing was coated with a film of frost. In the silvery moonlight they passed the black cliff of the Duck's Head. They were well down the bay when daylight came, and at last the sun rose, and its glorious rays set the rime-filled air shimmering like a veil of silver.
An hour before noon they reached Pinch-In Tickle, and stopped in the cabin to boil the kettle and eat a hasty luncheon. What memories it revived of the day when Charley first entered the door with Toby, and was first greeted by Skipper Zeb! How miserable a place in which to live Charley thought it then! How alone and deserted he felt! Now it appealed to him as not uncomfortable, and here he had found friends and awelcome; and the thought came to him that when the time to leave The Labrador came he would feel equally as badly at the leaving as he had at the entry.
Upon investigation, the ice in the tickle proved unsafe, and in the center there was some open water, where the tide surging in and out of the narrow passage had not permitted it to freeze.
In order, therefore, to reach the sea ice outside, it proved necessary to cross the low ridge of hills to the eastward of the cabin, which Charley and Toby had climbed on the day that the mail boat deserted Charley.
The ridge was bare of trees, and there was a hard coating of icy snow upon its rocky surface. From the cabins to the summit the slope was gradual, and with some help over the steeper places, the dogs hauled the komatik to the summit with little difficulty.
The descent to the sea ice on the opposite side was much more abrupt. Immediately it was begun, the komatik began to coast, and Toby threw a ring of braided walrus hide over the front end of one of the runners. This "drag," as he called it, was three feet in diameter and as thick as his wrist. The lower side of the ring, dragging back underthe runner, was forced into the hard snow, and thus served to retard the komatik, but even then it gathered such speed that the dogs were forced to turn aside, lest it should run them down, and to race with it as fast as they could run. Toby threw himself upon his side upon the komatik, clinging to it with both hands, and sticking his heels into the snow at the side and in front of him, and running with the komatik at the same time, put forth all his strength to hold it back.
This is exceedingly dangerous work, as Charley realized. A single misstep might result in a broken leg, and even worse injury, and Charley held his breath in expectation that some such catastrophe would surely happen before they reached the bottom.
Once a dog's trace caught over a rock. The dog was sent sprawling, and Charley expected that the speeding komatik would strike and crush the helpless animal. But fortunately the trace slipped over the top of the rock just in time for the dog to escape, and in a moment it was on its feet again, racing with its companions.
They had covered two-thirds of the descent, when to their horror the boys saw a ribbon of black water, several yards inwidth, separating the shore from the sea ice. They were dashing directly toward it at tremendous speed, and Charley was sure that they could not avoid a plunge into its cold depths.
"Roll off!" Toby shouted.
Charley rolled clear of the speeding komatik, pitching over and over, and finally sliding to a stop, dazed and bewildered, but in time to see the komatik, bottom up, at the very brink of the chasm. Toby was sprawling just above it. The dogs, with traces taut, stood above him bracing themselves to hold the sledge from slipping farther.
"Oh!" cried Charley running down to Toby, who was up and righting the komatik before he could reach him, "I was sure we were going over!"
"We were wonderful close to un!" said Toby. "When you drops off, I jerks the front of the komatik and that makes she turn over and roll, and when I does un the dogs stops and holds fast. If 'tweren't for that we'd sure gone into the water and liker'n not been drowned."
"What'll we do now?" asked Charley. "We can't reach the sea ice."
"Follow the ballicaders," said Toby, indicatinga narrow strip of ice hanging to the shore above the water. "'Twere careless of me not to think of the open water. This early in winter 'tis always like this above and below the tickle."
For nearly an hour they traveled upon the ice barricade. Sometimes it was so narrow that Charley's heart was in his mouth in fear that the komatik would slip over the brink. But Toby was a good driver, and at last they came in safety to the end of the water, with the ocean solidly frozen as far as they could see.
Here they turned upon the sea ice, and presently left the shore behind them to cross a wide bay. The sun was setting, and they were approaching land on the opposite shore of the bay, when Toby remarked:
"We're most there. Deer Harbour's just around that p'int you sees ahead."
Just before dusk they drove up to the little log house and trading store of Skipper Cyrus Blink, and glad enough they were to be met at the door by Skipper Blink, who greeted them most heartily, and helped them to unharness their dogs and unpack their komatik, and when they had fed the dogs ushered them into the warm cabin, whereMrs. Blink, who had seen them coming, had a pot of hot tea ready to pour and a "snack" to eat to "stay their stummiks" till supper would be ready.
Skipper Blink's store, or "shop" as he called it, was in a small room adjoining the living-room. It was a most primitive emporium of a most primitive frontier. Its stock of goods was limited to the necessities of the people, and consisted chiefly of flour, pork, molasses, duffle, practical clothing, arms and ammunition, with a pail of "sweets," or hard candies that at some remote date might have laid claim to being "fresh." It was a small branch shop of the Hudson's Bay Company's establishment known as the "Post" at Snow Inlet, some twenty miles to the northward, and Skipper Blink received from the Company a commission upon the trade which he did.
Charley could scarcely restrain his eagerness to hold in his hands the new rifle which he was to purchase, and when he and Toby had finished their "snack," he asked:
"Have you any guns for sale?"
"Aye," said the Skipper, "I has three shotguns in the shop and three rifles. What kind now would you be wantin'?"
"A rifle," said Charley. "Do you think I might see it now?"
"You can see un," answered the Skipper obligingly. "I'll fetch un right in here where 'tis warm. I has a forty-four carbine, a forty-five rifle and a thirty rifle. The forty-five would be a bit heavy for you. The forty-four is fine and light, and so is the thirty, and that's a wonderful far shootin' and strong shootin' gun, but the ca'tridges comes high."
"Thank you," said Charley, "I'd like to look at the rifles."
Accordingly Skipper Cy lighted a candle, and passed through the door leading to the shop, presently to return with the three rifles.
"Now here be the forty-four," said he, presenting the carbine for inspection. "'Tis a wonderful light fine gun for a lad."
"It's just like yours, isn't it, Toby?" Charley asked.
"Aye," said Toby, "the one I has is a forty-four carbine, just like this un."
"'Tis a fine rifle for any shootin'," explained Skipper Blink. "'Tis strong enough for deer or bear, if you hits un right, and 'tis fine for pa'tridges if you shoots un in the head. I finds un fine to hunt with, and 'tis not so costive as the others."
"Let me see the forty-five," suggested Charley. "That looks like a big, strong gun."
"Here 'tis now," and Skipper Blink handed it to Charley. "'Tis a wonderful sight stronger shootin' gun than the forty-four, but 'tis a bit too heavy for a lad like you to pack. 'Twould make for weariness, packin' she all day."
"It is heavy," agreed Charley, returning it to Skipper Blink, and eyeing the thirty caliber. "May I see the other one?"
"Aye, and there 'tis now. She's the best, and I keeps she for the last," said Skipper Blink proudly, as he delivered it into Charley's hands. "She'sa rifle now. She's the best and strongest shootin' gun I ever sees."
"This isn't heavy," said Charley. "I like it mighty well. Try it, Toby, and see what you think of it."
"She is fine and light," said Toby. "I likes un better'n the forty-four."
"So do I, ever so much," said Charley taking it back from Toby, and handling it caressingly.
"You knows a good gun when you sees un, lad," flattered Skipper Blink. "I were thinkin' when you asks to see un that you'dbe pickin' that un, and I were sayin' to myself, 'There's a lad now what knows a gun, and he'll be wantin' the thirty.' But 'tis the most costive of all of un."
"I'll take it anyhow," agreed Charley, fondling the arm, quite sure that his happiness depended upon owning it, and recognizing it as the undoubted aristocrat of the three.
"That's right, lad," beamed the Skipper. "When the bullet from that un hits a deer, you'll be gettin' the deer, whatever. Let me get a bit o' rag and wipe the grease off of she. And we'll take the ramrod and wipe out the barrel. 'Tis clogged full o' grease, and if you shoots she without cleanin' she out 'tis like to split she."
When Skipper Cy had cleaned the gun to his satisfaction he handed it to Charley, with the suggestion:
"You'll be needin' some ca'tridges—a hundred, whatever."
"I'll take a hundred and fifty," said Charley proudly.
"They comes twenty in a box," advised the Skipper. "If you takes seven boxes 'twill do you. 'Tis all I has."
"Very well," agreed Charley.
It was Charley's first gun. He fondled it and handled it, and scarce put it down until Mrs. Blink announced supper, and they sat down to an appetizing meal of bruise.[8]Both boys were hungry, and Skipper Cy urged them to eat.
"Fill up, now," he would say. "Take more of un. You lads have had a long day cruisin', and I'm not doubtin' you're fair starved."
And they ate and ate of the bruise until they could eat no more, with all the good Skipper's urging.
When they were through Skipper Cy took them into the store, or "shop" as he called it, where Charley purchased fresh underwear for himself and for Toby to take the place of that which Toby had let him use, and Toby purchased necessities which Mrs. Twig required at home, and still there was a small balance left to Charley's credit.
"I'd like something for Mrs. Twig," suggested Charley. "Have you anything you think she'd like?"
"Just the thing! Just the thing!" and Skipper Cy produced a small woolen shawl. "She'll like un for her shoulders. Mrs.Blink wears one of un, and she's wonderful proud of un, and says 'tis a rare comfort."
"Motherwouldlike un wonderful well," advised Toby, much pleased at Charley's thoughtfulness.
"All right," agreed Charley. "And now I want something for Violet."
"I has just the thing for the little maid!" Skipper Cy beamed delightedly.
Going to a chest he produced a really nice and prettily dressed little doll.
"Here's a doll I gets at the Moravian Mission. I gets un because 'tis a pretty trinket, but I has no use for un. Take un to the little maid from me, and tell she I sends un to she."
"Vi'let never has a doll in her life, but just a bit of cloth tied around a stick Mother fixes up for she and she calls a doll!" exclaimed Toby delightedly.
"It isjustthe thing! But I want to pay for it," insisted Charley. "I want to give it to her myself."
Finally it was agreed that Charley should pay Skipper Cy the price that he had paid the Mission folk for it, and he was perhaps quite as happy, and even more happy, with the thought of the pleasure his gifts wouldgive Mrs. Twig and Violet than with his new rifle.
This closed Charley's purchases, and still he found that there was a small balance due him. This balance, he insisted, Toby should use in selecting something for himself, and Toby acquired some additional cartridges for his rifle, confessing that his supply was low, and from the pail of ancient candy a quantity of "sweets" to take home; and though the candy was hard with age, in this land where luxuries are scarce, it was hailed as a great treat.
They were up and had their breakfast before daylight, as is the custom in this country, and with daylight the boys went out to try Charley's new rifle, which proved to be an accurate and strong shooting gun, and quite equal to Skipper Cy's recommendation. Charley found, indeed, that he could make a better target with it than with Toby's rifle. And it was well that he had taken this early opportunity to become accustomed to its mechanism, as events proved.
Shortly after sunrise they said good-bye to Skipper and Mrs. Blink, and were on their way to Pinch-In Tickle, where it was their purpose to spend the night.
When they passed out and beyond the point and the shelter of land they met a stiff southeast wind, and looking at the sky, Toby stopped the dogs.
"'Twill be blowin' hard before noon, and 'tis like to move the ice," said Toby. "'Twill take two hours whatever to make land the other side."
"What can we do?" asked Charley. "Can we go around?"
"We'd not make un to-day," said Toby. "I'm thinkin' by hurryin' the dogs a bit we can make un. The ice'll not go abroad unless the wind blows a good bit stronger than 'tis blowin' now."
"Hadn't we better go back and wait until we're sure?" asked Charley anxiously.
"If we goes back and waits we'll not be gettin' home to-morrow," Toby objected. "We promises Mother we'd be home by to-morrow night whatever."
"Let's take a chance at it," said Charley. "This wind can't move the ice, and we can get across before it gets blowing much harder."
"Ooisht!"[9]called Toby, breaking the komatik loose, and away went the dogs.
"Oksuit! Oksuit!"[10]Toby kept calling to the dogs, snapping the whip over them and urging them ahead.
"What's that?" It was an hour later, and Charley pointed to a great moving object a half mile seaward.
"A white bear!" exclaimed Toby, after a moment's scrutiny.
"Can't we get it?" Charley excitedly clutched his new rifle.
"We'll try un! Rahder! Rahder! Rahder!"[11]Toby shouted in rapid command, as rapidly as he could speak the word.
Slowly the dogs turned to the left and toward the bear. Suddenly a sniff of the animal came down the wind. Immediately the dogs sprang forward in their traces, and with short, sharp yelps were in wild, unrestrained pursuit. The komatik swayed from side to side, now on one runner, now on the other with every ice hummock it struck.
The bear did not run. Either its dignity, its confidence in its own strength and prowess, or resentment that any should dare invade its silent domain led it to face about upon its enemies.