Chapter Sixteen.Resources of the country begin to develop—Bryan distinguishes himself—Fishing extraordinary.There is a calm but deep-seated and powerful pleasure which fills the heart, and seems to permeate the entire being, when one awakens to the conviction that a day of arduous toil is about to begin—toil of an uncertain kind, perhaps connected with danger and adventure, in an unexplored region of the earth. Ignorance always paints coming events in glowing colours; and the mere fact that our adventurers knew not the nature of the country in which their tent was pitched—knew not whether the natives would receive them as friends or repel them as foes—knew not whether the nature and capabilities of the country were such as would be likely to convert the spot on which they lay into a comfortable home or a premature grave;—the mere fact of being utterly ignorant on these points was, in itself, sufficient to fill the poorest spirit of the band (had there been a poor spirit among them) with a glow of pleasurable excitement, and a firm resolve to tax their powers of doing and suffering to the uttermost.When the sun rose on the following morning the whole party was astir, the fire lighted, and an early breakfast in course of preparation. Much had to be done, and it behoved them to set about it with energy and at once, for the short autumn of these arctic regions was drawing on apace, and a winter of great length and of the utmost severity lay before them.There was also one consideration which caused some anxiety to Stanley and Frank, although it weighed little on the reckless spirits of the men, and this was the possibility of the non-arrival of the ship with their winter supply of provisions and goods for trade. Without such a supply a winter on the shores of Ungava Bay would involve all the hardships and extreme perils that too often fall to the lot of arctic discoverers; and he who has perused the fascinating journals of those gallant men, knows that these hardships and perils are neither few nor light. The leaders of the expedition were not, indeed, men to anticipate evils, or to feel unduly anxious about possible dangers; but they would have been more or less than human had they been able to look at Mrs Stanley and little Edith without a feeling of anxiety on their account. This thought, however, did not influence them in their actions; or, if it did, it only spurred them on to more prompt and vigorous exertions in the carrying out of their undertaking.After breakfast Stanley assembled his men, and gave each special directions what to do. One of the most important points to ascertain was whether there were many fish in the river. On this hung much of the future comfort and well-being, perhaps even the existence, of the party. Gaspard was, therefore, ordered to get out his nets and set them opposite the encampment. Oolibuck, being officially an interpreter of the Esquimau language, and, when not employed in his calling, regarded as a sort of male maid-of-all-work, was ordered to assist Gaspard. The next matter of primary importance was to ascertain what animals inhabited the region, and whether they were numerous. Dick Prince, being the recognised hunter of the party, was directed to take his gun and a large supply of ammunition, and sally forth over the mountains in search of game; and as Massan was a special friend of his, a good shot, and, moreover, a sagacious fellow, he was ordered to accompany him. They were also directed to observe particularly the state of the woods and the quality of the timber growing therein; but as this last required special attention, the style and size of the future fort being dependent on it, François, the carpenter, was appointed to make a journey of observation up the Caniapuscaw River, in company with Augustus the Esquimau and Ma-istequan the Indian—it being thought probable that if natives were to be met with at all, they would be on the banks of the river rather than in the mountains. It was further arranged that Frank Morton should ascend the mountains in company with Bryan, and ascertain if there were any lakes, and whether or not they contained fish. As for Mr Stanley, he resolved to remain by the camp. On entering his tent after dispatching the several parties, he said to his wife—“I’m going to stay by you to-day, Jessie. All the men, except Moses, Oostesimow, Gaspard, and La Roche, are sent off to hunt and fish in the mountains, and I have kept these four to paddle about this neighbourhood, in order to take soundings and examine the coast more carefully; because, you see, it would be an unfortunate thing if we began our establishment in a place not well suited for it.”Mrs Stanley and Edith were, of course, quite pleased with this arrangement, and while the males of the party were absent, the former employed herself in dressing the skin of the deer that had been shot the day before. She accomplished this after the Indian fashion, by scraping and rubbing it with the animal’s brains. Afterwards she smoked it over a fire of green wood, and in this way produced a soft, pliant substance similar to chamois leather, but coarser and stouter. As for Edith, she rambled at will among the bushes of the nearest ravine, under the faithful guardianship of Chimo, and hurried back to the camp almost every hour, laden with cloudberries, cranberries, blaeberries, and crowberries, which grew in profusion everywhere.Opposite to the camp the water was found to be eight fathoms deep. This was of great importance, as affording facility for unloading the ship abreast of the establishment. Higher up the river the ground was more favourable for building, both on account of its being more sheltered and better wooded with timber fit for the construction of houses; but the water was too shallow to float the ship, and the island before mentioned, which was named Cross Island, proved an effectual barrier to the upward progress of any craft larger than a boat. But as Stanley surveyed the spot on which the tent was pitched, and observed the sheltering background of mountains, with their succession of terraces; the creek or ravine to the right, with its growth of willows and stunted pines; the level parcel of greensward, with the little fountain under the rock; and the fine sandy bay in which Gaspard and Oolibuck were busily engaged in setting a couple of nets,—when he surveyed all this, he felt that, although not the best locality in the neighbourhood, it was, nevertheless, a very good one, and well suited in many respects for the future establishment.“Please, sir, the net him set,” shouted Oolibuck from the shore to his master, who floated in the bay at the distance of a hundred yards, busily engaged with the sounding-line. On receiving this piece of information, Stanley ran the canoe on the beach, and said to his follower—“Oolibuck, I have been thinking much about that river which we saw yesterday, off the mouth of this one; and I cannot help fearing that the ship will run into it, instead of into this, for the land is very deceptive.”“Me t’ink dat is true,” answered the Esquimau, with a look of grave perplexity. “If de ship go into dat riv’r he t’ink we no arrive, and so he go ’way, and we all starve!”“Nay, Oolibuck, I trust that such would not be the sad result of the ship failing to find us; but in order to prevent this, if possible, I intend to send you down to the coast, with a few days’ provisions, to keep a look-out for the ship, and light a fire if you see her, so that she may be guided to the right place. So get a blanket and your gun as fast as you can, and be off. I can only afford you four days’ provisions, Oolibuck, so you will have to prove yourself a good hunter, else you’ll starve. Will four days’ provisions do?”Oolibuck’s eyes disappeared. We do not mean to say that they flew away, or were annihilated. But Oolibuck was fat—so fat that, when he laughed, his eyes reduced themselves into two little lines surrounded by wrinkles; a result which was caused by a physical incapacity to open the mouth and eyes at the same time. As a general rule, when Oolibuck’s mouth was open his eyes were shut, and when his eyes were open his mouth was shut. Being a good-humoured fellow, and of a risible nature, the alternations were frequent. It was the idea of Stanley doubting the sufficiency of four days’ provisions that closed the eyes of the Esquimau on the present occasion.“Two days’ grub more dan ’nuff,” said Oolibuck. “Give me plenty powder and shot, and me no starve—no fear.”“Very well,” rejoined Stanley, laughing, “take as much ammunition as you require, but be careful of it; if the ship fails us we shall need it all. And don’t be too eager after the deer, Oolibuck; keep a sharp look-out seaward, be on the hill-tops as much as you can, and keep your eyes open.”Oolibuck replied by closing the said eyes with a smile, as he hurried towards the tent to prepare for his expedition. In the meantime Stanley directed Oostesimow and La Roche to set about building a small canoe out of the birch bark which they had carried with them for the purpose, the large canoes being too cumbrous for the purpose of overhauling the nets.The nets had been set by Gaspard in the usual way—that is, with stones attached to the lower lines to act as sinkers, and floats attached to the upper lines to keep them spread; and it was with no little impatience that the party in the camp awaited the issue. Indeed they scarcely permitted an hour to pass without an inspection being ordered; but to their chagrin, instead of finding fish, they found the nets rolled up by the conflicting currents of the river and the tide into the form of two ropes.“This will never do,” cried Stanley, as they brought the nets ashore. “We must set stake-nets immediately. It is nearly low tide now, so if we work hard they may be ready to set up before the tide has risen much.”In pursuance of this plan, Stanley and his men went to the ravine, of which mention has been already made, and proceeded to cut stakes for the nets; while Oolibuck, having explained to Mrs Stanley and Edith that he was “going to lookhout for de ship,” shouldered his wallet and gun, and ascending the ravine, speedily gained the first terrace of the mountains, along which he hastened in the direction of the sea-coast.While the party in the camp were thus engaged, Frank Morton and Bryan instituted a thorough investigation of the country that lay directly in the rear of the camp, in the course of which investigation they made sundry interesting discoveries.After ascending the ravine in which we left Stanley and his men cutting stakes for the nets, Frank and Bryan reached the first terrace, and proceeded along it in the opposite direction from that pursued by Oolibuck. A walk of a quarter of a mile, or less, brought them to another ravine, into which they turned, and the first thing that greeted them as they pushed their way through the stunted willows that thickly covered this gorge in the mountains was a covey of ptarmigan. These birds are similar in form and size to ordinary grouse, perhaps a little smaller. In winter they are pure white—so white that it is difficult to detect them amid the snow; but in summer their coats become brown, though there are a few of the pure white feathers left which never change their colour. Being unaccustomed to the sight of man, they stood gazing at Frank and Bryan in mute surprise, until the latter hastily threw forward his gun, when they wisely took to flight. But Frank arrested his follower’s arm.“Don’t waste your powder and shot, Bryan, on such small game. There may be something more worthy of a shot among the mountains; and if you once raise the echoes among these wild cliffs, I fear the game will not wait to inquire the cause thereof.”“Maybe not, sir,” replied Bryan, as he fell back a pace, and permitted Frank to lead the way; “but there’s an ould proverb that says, ‘A bird in the hand’s worth two in the buss,’ an’ I’ve great belaif in that same.”“Very true, Bryan, there is much wisdom in old proverbs; but there are exceptions to every rule, and this is a case in point, as you will admit if you cast your eyes over yonder valley, and observe the edge of the mountain-top that cuts so clear a line against the sky.”Frank pointed, as he spoke, to the shoulder or spur of one of the mountains which rose at a considerable distance in the interior, and from which they were separated by a dark glen or gorge; for none of the ravines in this part of the country merited the name of valley, save that through which flowed the Caniapuscaw River. The ravine up which they had been toiling for some time led into this darksome glen, and it was on rounding a bold precipice, which had hitherto concealed it from view, that Frank’s quick eye caught sight of the object to which he directed the attention of his companion.“’Tis a crow,” said Bryan, after a gaze of five minutes, during which he had gone through a variety of strange contortions—screwing up his features, shading his eyes with his hand, standing on tip-toe, although there was nothing to look over, and stooping low, with a hand on each knee, though there was nothing to look under, in the vain hope to increase by these means his power of vision.Frank regarded him with a quiet smile, as he said, “Look again, Bryan. Saw you ever a crow with antlers?”“Anthlers!” exclaimed the Irishman, once more wrinkling up his expressive face, and peering under his palm; “anthlers, say you? Sorra a thing duv I see ’xcept a black spot on the sky. If ye see anthlers on it, ye’re nothin’ more nor less than a walkin’ spy-glass.”“Nevertheless I see them, Bryan; and they grace the head of a noble buck. Now, you see, it is well you did not fire at the ptarmigan. Away with you, lad, down into that ravine, and clamber up the mountain through yonder gap with the fallen rock in the middle of it—d’ye see?—and wait there, lest the deer should turn back. In the meantime I’ll run round by the way we came, and descend to the water’s edge, to receive him when he arrives there. Now don’t lose yourself, and take care not to fire at smaller game.”As Frank concluded these orders, which he issued in a quick low voice, he threw his gun into the hollow of his left arm and strode rapidly away, leaving his companion gazing after him with an expression of blank stupidity on his face. Gradually his cheeks and brow were overspread with a thousand wrinkles and a smile took possession of his lips.“‘Don’t lose yersilf!’ Faix, Master Frank, ye’re free an’ aisy. Arrah now, Bryan dear, don’t lose yersilf; you that’s crossed the salt saes, an’ followed the Red Injins to the prairie, and hunted in the Rocky Mountains, and found yer way to Ungava—not to mintion havin’ comed oraginally from ould Ireland—which ov itsilf secures ye agin mistakes of every kind whatsumdiver. Lose yersilf! Musha, but ye had better git some wan to look after ye, Bryan boy. Take care now; go softly and kape yer eyes open, for fear ye lose yersilf!”As Bryan mumbled forth this bantering soliloquy, he lifted up a large bag which contained a couple of fishing-lines and a few hooks, and throwing it across the stock of his gun, and both across his shoulder, he took his way down the rugged but well-beaten deer-path which led to the ravine or glen. The idea of losing himself seemed to have taken such a hold of Bryan’s mind, and afforded him so much amusement and such scope for the continued flow of bantering soliloquy to which he was in truth much addicted, that he failed to note the fact that he was walking along the edge of a steep declivity, at the foot of which lay a small, dark sheet of water, which was connected by a short river or strait with a larger lake, whose wavelets rippled at the base of the mountain beyond. The scene was magnificently wild and lonely, and would have riveted the attention and excited the admiration of any one less absent than Bryan. High, rugged, and to all appearance inaccessible mountains surrounded the vale on all sides; and although there were several outlets from it, these were so concealed by the peculiar formation of the wild mountains that they could not be seen until they were actually entered.Had Bryan’s eyes been more active, he would have seen that the fringe of bushes by the side of the deer-track, along which he walked, concealed a declivity so steep that it almost merited the name of a precipice. But Bryan was lost in philosophic contemplation, and the first thing that awakened him to the fact was the slipping of a stone, which caused him to trip and fall headlong over the bank! The Irishman grasped convulsively at the bushes to arrest his fall, but the impetus with which he had commenced the descent tore them from his grasp, and after one or two unpleasant bounds and a good deal of crashing through shrubs that tore his garments sadly, he found himself stretched at full length on the margin of the river that connected the two lakes. So nearly had he been hurled into this strait by the violence of his descent that his head was hanging over the bank ere he stopped! Being partially stunned by the fall, Bryan lay for a few seconds motionless. As his shaken faculties returned, however, he became aware of the fact that a fish of fully two feet long lay at the bottom of the pool over which his head hung. Starting up, and totally forgetting his bruises, he turned to look for the bag containing the fishing-lines, and observing it lying on the ground not far distant, still wrapped round the gun, he ran to pick it up.“Oh! wow! poor thing!” he exclaimed, on lifting up his gun, which, though fortunately not broken, was sadly bent, “ye’re fit for nothin’ but shootin’ round the corner now! It’s well for you, Bryan, ye spalpeen, that your backbone is not in the same fix.”While he thus muttered to himself, Bryan drew from the bag a stout cod-line, to which he fastened a hook of deadly dimensions, and dressed it into the form of a fly, much in the same manner as was formerly done by La Roche. This line and fly he fastened to the end of a short stout pole which he cut from a neighbouring tree, and approaching cautiously to the bank of the strait—for there was too little motion in it to entitle it to be called a stream—he cast the fly with a violent splash into the water. The violence was unintentional—at least the exclamations of reproach that followed the cast would lead us to suppose so. The fish here were as tame as those caught in Deer River. In a few seconds the fly was swallowed, and Bryan, applying main force to the pole, tossed a beautiful trout of about two pounds weight over his head.“Och! ye purty crature,” exclaimed the delighted Irishman, rubbing his hands with glee as he gazed at the fish after having unhooked it. “Shure ye’ll make a beautiful fagure in the kittle this night. An’ musha! there’s wan o’ yer relations to kape ye company,” he added, as, exerting an enormous degree of unnecessary force, he drew another trout violently from the water. The second trout was larger than the first, and Bryan soon became so excited in the sport that he totally forgot Frank’s orders, and the deer, and everything else in the world, for the time being. Having caught six or seven trout, varying from two to four pounds in weight, he changed his position a little, and made a cast over a deep pool nearer to the large lake. As heretofore, the fly was engulfed the instant it fell on the water; but Bryan did not, as heretofore, haul the fish violently out of its native element. It is true he attempted to do so, but the attempt proved utterly futile; moreover, the fish darted with such velocity and strength towards the lake, that the angler, albeit entirely ignorant of his art, experienced an inward conviction that the thick cord would snap altogether if not eased of the enormous strain. He therefore followed the fish at the top of his speed, uttering incomprehensible sounds of mingled rage and amazement as he went, and tripping over rocks and bushes in his headlong career. After a smart run of half a minute the fish stopped, turned, and darted back so rapidly that Bryan tripped in turning and fell into the water! The place was shallow, but having fallen on his back, he was thoroughly drenched from head to foot. He did not lose the grasp of his rod, however. Spluttering, and gasping, and dripping, he followed the fish in its wild career until it turned again at a tangent, and darted towards the bank on which he stood. There was a shelving bed of pebbles, where the water shoaled very gradually. Bryan saw this. Availing himself of the fish’s impetus, and putting all his force to the rod, he dragged it into two inches of water, when the line broke. Instantly the fish struggled towards deep water; but it was so large, and the place to which it had been dragged so shallow, that it afforded the excited angler time to rush forward and throw himself bodily on the top of it!The battle that now ensued was of an energetic and deadly character on the part of both man and fish. Those who have not grasped a live salmon in their arms have no conception of the strength of a fish; and perhaps it may be said with equal truth that those who have never wielded a forehammer have but a faint conception of the strength of a blacksmith’s knuckles. Bryan had thrown his whole weight on the fish, and grasped it, as with a vice, in both hands; but at every struggle of its powerful frame he felt how uncertain was the hold he had of its slippery body. Once it almost escaped, and dashed the spray over its adversary’s face with its tail, as it wriggled out of his grasp; but with a desperate plunge Bryan seized it by the head and succeeded in thrusting his thumb under its gill and choking it, while himself was well-nigh choked at the same moment by unintentionally swallowing a gulp of the muddy compound which they had stirred up in their struggles. Slowly and with caution Bryan rose on one knee, while he crushed the fish against the bottom with both hands; then making a last exertion, he hurled it up the bank, where it fell beyond all hope of return to its native element.The fish thus captured was a beautiful trout of about twenty pounds weight. The lake trout of North America are, some of them, of enormous size, being not unfrequently taken of sixty pounds weight, so that as a specimen of those inhabiting these lakes this was by no means a large one. Nevertheless it was a splendid fish, and certainly the largest that had ever been captured by the worthy son of Vulcan.The thick coat of liquid mud with which his face was covered could not entirely conceal the smile of intense satisfaction with which he regarded his prize, as he sat down on the bank before it.“Kape quiet now, honey!” he exclaimed, as the trout made a last fluttering attempt to escape; “kape quiet. Have patience, darlint. It’s o’ no manner o’ use to hurry natur’. Just lie still, an’ it’ll be soon over.”With this consolatory remark, Bryan patted the fish on the head, and proceeded to wring the water from his upper garments, after which he repaired his broken tackle, and resumed his sport with an eagerness and zest that cold and water and mud could not diminish in the smallest degree.
There is a calm but deep-seated and powerful pleasure which fills the heart, and seems to permeate the entire being, when one awakens to the conviction that a day of arduous toil is about to begin—toil of an uncertain kind, perhaps connected with danger and adventure, in an unexplored region of the earth. Ignorance always paints coming events in glowing colours; and the mere fact that our adventurers knew not the nature of the country in which their tent was pitched—knew not whether the natives would receive them as friends or repel them as foes—knew not whether the nature and capabilities of the country were such as would be likely to convert the spot on which they lay into a comfortable home or a premature grave;—the mere fact of being utterly ignorant on these points was, in itself, sufficient to fill the poorest spirit of the band (had there been a poor spirit among them) with a glow of pleasurable excitement, and a firm resolve to tax their powers of doing and suffering to the uttermost.
When the sun rose on the following morning the whole party was astir, the fire lighted, and an early breakfast in course of preparation. Much had to be done, and it behoved them to set about it with energy and at once, for the short autumn of these arctic regions was drawing on apace, and a winter of great length and of the utmost severity lay before them.
There was also one consideration which caused some anxiety to Stanley and Frank, although it weighed little on the reckless spirits of the men, and this was the possibility of the non-arrival of the ship with their winter supply of provisions and goods for trade. Without such a supply a winter on the shores of Ungava Bay would involve all the hardships and extreme perils that too often fall to the lot of arctic discoverers; and he who has perused the fascinating journals of those gallant men, knows that these hardships and perils are neither few nor light. The leaders of the expedition were not, indeed, men to anticipate evils, or to feel unduly anxious about possible dangers; but they would have been more or less than human had they been able to look at Mrs Stanley and little Edith without a feeling of anxiety on their account. This thought, however, did not influence them in their actions; or, if it did, it only spurred them on to more prompt and vigorous exertions in the carrying out of their undertaking.
After breakfast Stanley assembled his men, and gave each special directions what to do. One of the most important points to ascertain was whether there were many fish in the river. On this hung much of the future comfort and well-being, perhaps even the existence, of the party. Gaspard was, therefore, ordered to get out his nets and set them opposite the encampment. Oolibuck, being officially an interpreter of the Esquimau language, and, when not employed in his calling, regarded as a sort of male maid-of-all-work, was ordered to assist Gaspard. The next matter of primary importance was to ascertain what animals inhabited the region, and whether they were numerous. Dick Prince, being the recognised hunter of the party, was directed to take his gun and a large supply of ammunition, and sally forth over the mountains in search of game; and as Massan was a special friend of his, a good shot, and, moreover, a sagacious fellow, he was ordered to accompany him. They were also directed to observe particularly the state of the woods and the quality of the timber growing therein; but as this last required special attention, the style and size of the future fort being dependent on it, François, the carpenter, was appointed to make a journey of observation up the Caniapuscaw River, in company with Augustus the Esquimau and Ma-istequan the Indian—it being thought probable that if natives were to be met with at all, they would be on the banks of the river rather than in the mountains. It was further arranged that Frank Morton should ascend the mountains in company with Bryan, and ascertain if there were any lakes, and whether or not they contained fish. As for Mr Stanley, he resolved to remain by the camp. On entering his tent after dispatching the several parties, he said to his wife—
“I’m going to stay by you to-day, Jessie. All the men, except Moses, Oostesimow, Gaspard, and La Roche, are sent off to hunt and fish in the mountains, and I have kept these four to paddle about this neighbourhood, in order to take soundings and examine the coast more carefully; because, you see, it would be an unfortunate thing if we began our establishment in a place not well suited for it.”
Mrs Stanley and Edith were, of course, quite pleased with this arrangement, and while the males of the party were absent, the former employed herself in dressing the skin of the deer that had been shot the day before. She accomplished this after the Indian fashion, by scraping and rubbing it with the animal’s brains. Afterwards she smoked it over a fire of green wood, and in this way produced a soft, pliant substance similar to chamois leather, but coarser and stouter. As for Edith, she rambled at will among the bushes of the nearest ravine, under the faithful guardianship of Chimo, and hurried back to the camp almost every hour, laden with cloudberries, cranberries, blaeberries, and crowberries, which grew in profusion everywhere.
Opposite to the camp the water was found to be eight fathoms deep. This was of great importance, as affording facility for unloading the ship abreast of the establishment. Higher up the river the ground was more favourable for building, both on account of its being more sheltered and better wooded with timber fit for the construction of houses; but the water was too shallow to float the ship, and the island before mentioned, which was named Cross Island, proved an effectual barrier to the upward progress of any craft larger than a boat. But as Stanley surveyed the spot on which the tent was pitched, and observed the sheltering background of mountains, with their succession of terraces; the creek or ravine to the right, with its growth of willows and stunted pines; the level parcel of greensward, with the little fountain under the rock; and the fine sandy bay in which Gaspard and Oolibuck were busily engaged in setting a couple of nets,—when he surveyed all this, he felt that, although not the best locality in the neighbourhood, it was, nevertheless, a very good one, and well suited in many respects for the future establishment.
“Please, sir, the net him set,” shouted Oolibuck from the shore to his master, who floated in the bay at the distance of a hundred yards, busily engaged with the sounding-line. On receiving this piece of information, Stanley ran the canoe on the beach, and said to his follower—
“Oolibuck, I have been thinking much about that river which we saw yesterday, off the mouth of this one; and I cannot help fearing that the ship will run into it, instead of into this, for the land is very deceptive.”
“Me t’ink dat is true,” answered the Esquimau, with a look of grave perplexity. “If de ship go into dat riv’r he t’ink we no arrive, and so he go ’way, and we all starve!”
“Nay, Oolibuck, I trust that such would not be the sad result of the ship failing to find us; but in order to prevent this, if possible, I intend to send you down to the coast, with a few days’ provisions, to keep a look-out for the ship, and light a fire if you see her, so that she may be guided to the right place. So get a blanket and your gun as fast as you can, and be off. I can only afford you four days’ provisions, Oolibuck, so you will have to prove yourself a good hunter, else you’ll starve. Will four days’ provisions do?”
Oolibuck’s eyes disappeared. We do not mean to say that they flew away, or were annihilated. But Oolibuck was fat—so fat that, when he laughed, his eyes reduced themselves into two little lines surrounded by wrinkles; a result which was caused by a physical incapacity to open the mouth and eyes at the same time. As a general rule, when Oolibuck’s mouth was open his eyes were shut, and when his eyes were open his mouth was shut. Being a good-humoured fellow, and of a risible nature, the alternations were frequent. It was the idea of Stanley doubting the sufficiency of four days’ provisions that closed the eyes of the Esquimau on the present occasion.
“Two days’ grub more dan ’nuff,” said Oolibuck. “Give me plenty powder and shot, and me no starve—no fear.”
“Very well,” rejoined Stanley, laughing, “take as much ammunition as you require, but be careful of it; if the ship fails us we shall need it all. And don’t be too eager after the deer, Oolibuck; keep a sharp look-out seaward, be on the hill-tops as much as you can, and keep your eyes open.”
Oolibuck replied by closing the said eyes with a smile, as he hurried towards the tent to prepare for his expedition. In the meantime Stanley directed Oostesimow and La Roche to set about building a small canoe out of the birch bark which they had carried with them for the purpose, the large canoes being too cumbrous for the purpose of overhauling the nets.
The nets had been set by Gaspard in the usual way—that is, with stones attached to the lower lines to act as sinkers, and floats attached to the upper lines to keep them spread; and it was with no little impatience that the party in the camp awaited the issue. Indeed they scarcely permitted an hour to pass without an inspection being ordered; but to their chagrin, instead of finding fish, they found the nets rolled up by the conflicting currents of the river and the tide into the form of two ropes.
“This will never do,” cried Stanley, as they brought the nets ashore. “We must set stake-nets immediately. It is nearly low tide now, so if we work hard they may be ready to set up before the tide has risen much.”
In pursuance of this plan, Stanley and his men went to the ravine, of which mention has been already made, and proceeded to cut stakes for the nets; while Oolibuck, having explained to Mrs Stanley and Edith that he was “going to lookhout for de ship,” shouldered his wallet and gun, and ascending the ravine, speedily gained the first terrace of the mountains, along which he hastened in the direction of the sea-coast.
While the party in the camp were thus engaged, Frank Morton and Bryan instituted a thorough investigation of the country that lay directly in the rear of the camp, in the course of which investigation they made sundry interesting discoveries.
After ascending the ravine in which we left Stanley and his men cutting stakes for the nets, Frank and Bryan reached the first terrace, and proceeded along it in the opposite direction from that pursued by Oolibuck. A walk of a quarter of a mile, or less, brought them to another ravine, into which they turned, and the first thing that greeted them as they pushed their way through the stunted willows that thickly covered this gorge in the mountains was a covey of ptarmigan. These birds are similar in form and size to ordinary grouse, perhaps a little smaller. In winter they are pure white—so white that it is difficult to detect them amid the snow; but in summer their coats become brown, though there are a few of the pure white feathers left which never change their colour. Being unaccustomed to the sight of man, they stood gazing at Frank and Bryan in mute surprise, until the latter hastily threw forward his gun, when they wisely took to flight. But Frank arrested his follower’s arm.
“Don’t waste your powder and shot, Bryan, on such small game. There may be something more worthy of a shot among the mountains; and if you once raise the echoes among these wild cliffs, I fear the game will not wait to inquire the cause thereof.”
“Maybe not, sir,” replied Bryan, as he fell back a pace, and permitted Frank to lead the way; “but there’s an ould proverb that says, ‘A bird in the hand’s worth two in the buss,’ an’ I’ve great belaif in that same.”
“Very true, Bryan, there is much wisdom in old proverbs; but there are exceptions to every rule, and this is a case in point, as you will admit if you cast your eyes over yonder valley, and observe the edge of the mountain-top that cuts so clear a line against the sky.”
Frank pointed, as he spoke, to the shoulder or spur of one of the mountains which rose at a considerable distance in the interior, and from which they were separated by a dark glen or gorge; for none of the ravines in this part of the country merited the name of valley, save that through which flowed the Caniapuscaw River. The ravine up which they had been toiling for some time led into this darksome glen, and it was on rounding a bold precipice, which had hitherto concealed it from view, that Frank’s quick eye caught sight of the object to which he directed the attention of his companion.
“’Tis a crow,” said Bryan, after a gaze of five minutes, during which he had gone through a variety of strange contortions—screwing up his features, shading his eyes with his hand, standing on tip-toe, although there was nothing to look over, and stooping low, with a hand on each knee, though there was nothing to look under, in the vain hope to increase by these means his power of vision.
Frank regarded him with a quiet smile, as he said, “Look again, Bryan. Saw you ever a crow with antlers?”
“Anthlers!” exclaimed the Irishman, once more wrinkling up his expressive face, and peering under his palm; “anthlers, say you? Sorra a thing duv I see ’xcept a black spot on the sky. If ye see anthlers on it, ye’re nothin’ more nor less than a walkin’ spy-glass.”
“Nevertheless I see them, Bryan; and they grace the head of a noble buck. Now, you see, it is well you did not fire at the ptarmigan. Away with you, lad, down into that ravine, and clamber up the mountain through yonder gap with the fallen rock in the middle of it—d’ye see?—and wait there, lest the deer should turn back. In the meantime I’ll run round by the way we came, and descend to the water’s edge, to receive him when he arrives there. Now don’t lose yourself, and take care not to fire at smaller game.”
As Frank concluded these orders, which he issued in a quick low voice, he threw his gun into the hollow of his left arm and strode rapidly away, leaving his companion gazing after him with an expression of blank stupidity on his face. Gradually his cheeks and brow were overspread with a thousand wrinkles and a smile took possession of his lips.
“‘Don’t lose yersilf!’ Faix, Master Frank, ye’re free an’ aisy. Arrah now, Bryan dear, don’t lose yersilf; you that’s crossed the salt saes, an’ followed the Red Injins to the prairie, and hunted in the Rocky Mountains, and found yer way to Ungava—not to mintion havin’ comed oraginally from ould Ireland—which ov itsilf secures ye agin mistakes of every kind whatsumdiver. Lose yersilf! Musha, but ye had better git some wan to look after ye, Bryan boy. Take care now; go softly and kape yer eyes open, for fear ye lose yersilf!”
As Bryan mumbled forth this bantering soliloquy, he lifted up a large bag which contained a couple of fishing-lines and a few hooks, and throwing it across the stock of his gun, and both across his shoulder, he took his way down the rugged but well-beaten deer-path which led to the ravine or glen. The idea of losing himself seemed to have taken such a hold of Bryan’s mind, and afforded him so much amusement and such scope for the continued flow of bantering soliloquy to which he was in truth much addicted, that he failed to note the fact that he was walking along the edge of a steep declivity, at the foot of which lay a small, dark sheet of water, which was connected by a short river or strait with a larger lake, whose wavelets rippled at the base of the mountain beyond. The scene was magnificently wild and lonely, and would have riveted the attention and excited the admiration of any one less absent than Bryan. High, rugged, and to all appearance inaccessible mountains surrounded the vale on all sides; and although there were several outlets from it, these were so concealed by the peculiar formation of the wild mountains that they could not be seen until they were actually entered.
Had Bryan’s eyes been more active, he would have seen that the fringe of bushes by the side of the deer-track, along which he walked, concealed a declivity so steep that it almost merited the name of a precipice. But Bryan was lost in philosophic contemplation, and the first thing that awakened him to the fact was the slipping of a stone, which caused him to trip and fall headlong over the bank! The Irishman grasped convulsively at the bushes to arrest his fall, but the impetus with which he had commenced the descent tore them from his grasp, and after one or two unpleasant bounds and a good deal of crashing through shrubs that tore his garments sadly, he found himself stretched at full length on the margin of the river that connected the two lakes. So nearly had he been hurled into this strait by the violence of his descent that his head was hanging over the bank ere he stopped! Being partially stunned by the fall, Bryan lay for a few seconds motionless. As his shaken faculties returned, however, he became aware of the fact that a fish of fully two feet long lay at the bottom of the pool over which his head hung. Starting up, and totally forgetting his bruises, he turned to look for the bag containing the fishing-lines, and observing it lying on the ground not far distant, still wrapped round the gun, he ran to pick it up.
“Oh! wow! poor thing!” he exclaimed, on lifting up his gun, which, though fortunately not broken, was sadly bent, “ye’re fit for nothin’ but shootin’ round the corner now! It’s well for you, Bryan, ye spalpeen, that your backbone is not in the same fix.”
While he thus muttered to himself, Bryan drew from the bag a stout cod-line, to which he fastened a hook of deadly dimensions, and dressed it into the form of a fly, much in the same manner as was formerly done by La Roche. This line and fly he fastened to the end of a short stout pole which he cut from a neighbouring tree, and approaching cautiously to the bank of the strait—for there was too little motion in it to entitle it to be called a stream—he cast the fly with a violent splash into the water. The violence was unintentional—at least the exclamations of reproach that followed the cast would lead us to suppose so. The fish here were as tame as those caught in Deer River. In a few seconds the fly was swallowed, and Bryan, applying main force to the pole, tossed a beautiful trout of about two pounds weight over his head.
“Och! ye purty crature,” exclaimed the delighted Irishman, rubbing his hands with glee as he gazed at the fish after having unhooked it. “Shure ye’ll make a beautiful fagure in the kittle this night. An’ musha! there’s wan o’ yer relations to kape ye company,” he added, as, exerting an enormous degree of unnecessary force, he drew another trout violently from the water. The second trout was larger than the first, and Bryan soon became so excited in the sport that he totally forgot Frank’s orders, and the deer, and everything else in the world, for the time being. Having caught six or seven trout, varying from two to four pounds in weight, he changed his position a little, and made a cast over a deep pool nearer to the large lake. As heretofore, the fly was engulfed the instant it fell on the water; but Bryan did not, as heretofore, haul the fish violently out of its native element. It is true he attempted to do so, but the attempt proved utterly futile; moreover, the fish darted with such velocity and strength towards the lake, that the angler, albeit entirely ignorant of his art, experienced an inward conviction that the thick cord would snap altogether if not eased of the enormous strain. He therefore followed the fish at the top of his speed, uttering incomprehensible sounds of mingled rage and amazement as he went, and tripping over rocks and bushes in his headlong career. After a smart run of half a minute the fish stopped, turned, and darted back so rapidly that Bryan tripped in turning and fell into the water! The place was shallow, but having fallen on his back, he was thoroughly drenched from head to foot. He did not lose the grasp of his rod, however. Spluttering, and gasping, and dripping, he followed the fish in its wild career until it turned again at a tangent, and darted towards the bank on which he stood. There was a shelving bed of pebbles, where the water shoaled very gradually. Bryan saw this. Availing himself of the fish’s impetus, and putting all his force to the rod, he dragged it into two inches of water, when the line broke. Instantly the fish struggled towards deep water; but it was so large, and the place to which it had been dragged so shallow, that it afforded the excited angler time to rush forward and throw himself bodily on the top of it!
The battle that now ensued was of an energetic and deadly character on the part of both man and fish. Those who have not grasped a live salmon in their arms have no conception of the strength of a fish; and perhaps it may be said with equal truth that those who have never wielded a forehammer have but a faint conception of the strength of a blacksmith’s knuckles. Bryan had thrown his whole weight on the fish, and grasped it, as with a vice, in both hands; but at every struggle of its powerful frame he felt how uncertain was the hold he had of its slippery body. Once it almost escaped, and dashed the spray over its adversary’s face with its tail, as it wriggled out of his grasp; but with a desperate plunge Bryan seized it by the head and succeeded in thrusting his thumb under its gill and choking it, while himself was well-nigh choked at the same moment by unintentionally swallowing a gulp of the muddy compound which they had stirred up in their struggles. Slowly and with caution Bryan rose on one knee, while he crushed the fish against the bottom with both hands; then making a last exertion, he hurled it up the bank, where it fell beyond all hope of return to its native element.
The fish thus captured was a beautiful trout of about twenty pounds weight. The lake trout of North America are, some of them, of enormous size, being not unfrequently taken of sixty pounds weight, so that as a specimen of those inhabiting these lakes this was by no means a large one. Nevertheless it was a splendid fish, and certainly the largest that had ever been captured by the worthy son of Vulcan.
The thick coat of liquid mud with which his face was covered could not entirely conceal the smile of intense satisfaction with which he regarded his prize, as he sat down on the bank before it.
“Kape quiet now, honey!” he exclaimed, as the trout made a last fluttering attempt to escape; “kape quiet. Have patience, darlint. It’s o’ no manner o’ use to hurry natur’. Just lie still, an’ it’ll be soon over.”
With this consolatory remark, Bryan patted the fish on the head, and proceeded to wring the water from his upper garments, after which he repaired his broken tackle, and resumed his sport with an eagerness and zest that cold and water and mud could not diminish in the smallest degree.
Chapter Seventeen.Successes and encouragement—Bryan lost and found.It was evening before the tide began to fall and uncover the stake-nets, which were eagerly and earnestly watched by those who had remained in the camp. Mrs Stanley and Edith were seated on an empty box by the margin of the sandy bay; Mr Stanley sat on a nail-keg beside them; La Roche and the Indian were still working at the small canoe a few yards from the tent; and Gaspard, with folded arms, and an unusual smile of good humour playing on his countenance, stood close behind Stanley.None of the hunting and exploring parties had returned, although the sun had long since disappeared behind the mountains, and the mellow light of evening was deepening over the bay.“There’s a tail, sir,” said Gaspard, as he hurried towards the net.“So it is!” cried Stanley, leaping up. “Come along, Eda, and take the first fish.”Edith needed no second invitation, but bounded towards the edge of the water, which was now gradually leaving the nets. Gaspard had already disengaged a white fish from the mesh, and wading to the beach, gave it to the little girl, who ran with it joyously to her mother. Meanwhile, another and another fish was left by the tide, and Stanley soon after brought up a splendid salmon of about twenty-five pounds weight, and laid it at Edith’s feet.“Oh, how very beautiful!” cried the child, as she gazed in delight at the silvery scales of the fish.“My mind is much relieved by this, Jessie,” said Stanley, reseating himself on the keg, while Oostesimow and La Roche carried the fish ashore as Gaspard freed them from the nets. “I now see that there are plenty of fish in the river, and if the hunters bring in a good report to-night, our anxiety on the score of food will be quite removed.”Although none of the party had ever set a net on stakes before, they had frequently heard of this manner of fishing, and their first attempt proved eminently successful. At low tide stakes had been driven into the sand, extending from the edge of the water towards high-water mark. On these the nets had been spread, and thus the misfortune which had attended the setting of the nets with floats and sinkers was avoided. The quantity of fish taken gave promise of an ample supply for the future. There were two Hearne-salmon (that is, spotted like trout), and one large common salmon, besides thirty white-fish, averaging between two to six pounds weight each, all of which were in excellent condition. The white-fish is of the salmon species, but white in the flesh, and being less rich than the salmon, is much preferred by those who have to use it constantly as an article of food.“This is a most fortunate supply,” remarked Stanley, “and will prevent the necessity of putting the men on short allowance.”“Short allowance!” exclaimed his wife; “I thought we had more than enough of food to last us till the arrival of the ship.”“Ay, so we have. But until now I did not feel at liberty to use it; for if through any accident the ship does not come, and if there had chanced to be no fish in the river, the only course open to us would be to retrace our steps, and as that would be a long and slow process, we would require to economise our food. In fact, I had resolved to begin operations by putting the men on short allowance; but this haul of fish shows me that we shall have more than enough.“But who comes here?” he added, on observing the figure of a man approaching the camp. “He seems to carry a burden on his back, as far as I can make out in the uncertain light.”“Did any of the men go out alone?” inquired Mrs Stanley.“No; but I suppose that this one must have separated from his comrade.—Hallo! who goes there?”The man tossed the bundle from his shoulders, and hastening forward revealed the flushed countenance of Frank Morton.“What! Frank! why, man, you seem to have had a hard day of it, if I may judge by your looks.”“Not so hard but that a good supper will put its effects to flight,” replied Frank, as he rested his gun against a rock and seated himself on the keg from which Stanley had risen. “The fact is, I have slain a noble buck, and being desirous that the men should have as much of it as possible, I loaded myself rather heavily. The ground, too, is horribly bad; but pray send Gaspard for the bundle. I should have been here sooner but for the time required to dissect the animal.”“Where is Bryan, Frank?” inquired Mrs Stanley. “You went away together.”“Bryan! I know not. He and I parted in the mountains some hours ago; and as he failed to keep his appointment with me, I concluded that he must have become foot-sore and returned to camp.”“He has not returned,” said Stanley; “but I have no fear for the honest blacksmith. He’s too old a nor’wester to lose himself, and he’s too tough to kill. But come, Frank, let us to our tent. I see that La Roche has already prepared our salmon for the kettle, and so—”“Salmon!” interrupted Frank.“Ay, lad, salmon! a twenty-five pounder too! But come, change your foot-gear, and then we shall have our supper, in the course of which we shall exchange news.”As they proceeded towards the camp the voices of some of the men were heard in the distance; it was now too dark to see them. In a few minutes François, followed by Augustus and Ma-istequan, strode into the circle of light around the fire, and laying aside their guns proceeded to light their pipes, while they replied to the questions of Frank and Stanley.“You do not come empty-handed,” remarked the latter, as François and his comrades threw down several fat ducks and a few grouse, which, after the fashion of hunters, they had carried pendent by the necks from their belts.“We only shot a few, monsieur,” replied François, “to put in the kettle for supper. We might have loaded a canoe had we chosen.”“That is well,” said Stanley; “but the kettle is full already, and supper prepared. See, Frank has shot a deer, so that we shall fare well to-night.—Ah, Prince! come along. What! more game?” he added, as Dick and Massan entered the halo of light, and threw down the choice morsels of a fat deer which they had killed among the mountains.“Ah! oui, monsieur,” said Massan, chuckling as he laid aside his axe and gun; “we might ha’ killed three o’ them if we had been so minded; but we couldn’t ha’ brought them into camp, an’, as Dick said, ’tis a pity to kill deer to feed the wolves with.”“Right!” exclaimed Frank; “but did any of you see Bryan? He gave me the slip in the mountains, and, I fear, has lost himself.”To this the men replied in the negative, and some of them smiled at the idea of the blacksmith being lost.“No fear, vraiment! He no lost,” cried La Roche with a laugh, as he lifted the huge kettle from the fire and placed it in the midst of the men, having previously abstracted the best portions for the special benefit of his master. “No fear of Bryan, certainment; he like one bad shilling—he come up toujours. Ah! mauvais chien, him give me all de trouble ov get supper ready mylone.”“I trust it may be so,” said Stanley. “We are all here except him and Oolibuck, whom I have sent to the coast for a few days to watch for the ship. But let us have supper, La Roche, and spread ours nearer the fire to-night—it is rather cold; besides, I want to hear the reports of the men.”In compliance with this order, the lively Frenchman spread the supper for his master’s family close beside that of the men, and in a few minutes more a most vigorous attack was made on the viands, during the first part of which the hungry travellers maintained unbroken silence. But as the cravings of nature began to be satisfied, their tongues found time to remark on the excellence of the fare. The salmon was superb. Even Edith, who seldom talked about what she ate, pronounced it very good. The white-fish were better than any of the party had ever eaten in their lives, although most of them had travelled over the length and breadth of the North American wilderness. The ducks were perfect. Even the ptarmigan were declared passable; and the venison, with an inch of fat on the haunches—words were not found sufficiently expressive to describe it. Those who are philosophically inclined may suspect that some of this super-excellence lay in the keen appetites of the men. Well, perhaps it did.While the travellers were in the midst of this, and ere yet their tongues were fairly loosened, a loud unearthly shout rang with appalling reverberations among the surrounding cliffs, causing the entire party to start up and rush for their arms. Again the cry was heard.“Ah! bad skran to ye, Losh!—Hould on, Moses, ye fat villain. Lave me wan mouthful, jist wan, to kape me from givin’ up the ghost intirely.”A shout of laughter greeted the advent of Bryan’s voice, but it was nothing to the peals that burst forth on the appearance of that individual inpropria persona. To say that he was totally dishevelled would convey but half the truth. Besides being covered and clotted with mud, he was saturated with water from head to foot, his clothes rent in a most distressing manner, and his features quite undistinguishable.“Why, Bryan, what ails you? Where have you been?” inquired Stanley, in a tone of sympathy.“Bin, is it? Sorra wan o’ me knows where I’ve bin. It’s mysilf is glad to be sartin I’m here, anyhow.”“I’m glad you’re certain of it,” said Frank, “for if it were not for the sound of your voice, I should doubt it.”“Ah monsieur,” said La Roche, “make your mind easy on dat. No von but Bryan ever regard de kettle dat way.”“Taizy voo, ye petit varmint,” said Bryan, approaching the said kettle, and smiling rapturously through the mud that encrusted his face on beholding its contents. Without waiting to change his garments the hungry blacksmith began supper, having first, however, directed attention to the bag which he had brought in. From this bag La Roche now extracted about a dozen trout, some of which were of great size—especially one, whose bulk exceeded that of the large salmon.“There’s plinty more where thim comed from,” said Bryan, through a mouthful of venison; “but I’ll tell ye ov it afther supper.”“Ah, true! don’t let us interrupt him just now,” said Stanley. “In the meantime, François, since you seem to be about done, tell us what you have seen, and let us hear what you have to say of the country.”François having lighted his pipe, cleared his throat and began:—“Well, monsieur, after we had paddled a short bit beyond the point below the last rapid in Caniapuscaw River, we shoved the canoe ashore, and landed Prince and Massan, who set off to look for game, leavin’ Augustus, Ma-istequan, and me to paddle up the river as well as we could. But we soon found that three men in a big canoe could not make much way agin the strong current of the river, so we put ashore again and took to our legs.“After making a long tramp up the banks o’ the river, we fell in with some good-sized pines; but although they are big for this part of the country, they are not big enough for building. Then we pushed into the gullies, which are sheltered from the cold winds off the bay, and here we found the trees a good deal bigger. There are pines and larch in abundance, and some of the larch are even bigger than we require.”“Are they far inland?” inquired Stanley.“No, monsieur, they are only a few hundred yards from the banks of the river, and growin’ on the edge of a small creek, which I noticed is deep enough to float them down.”“Good, very good,” said Stanley, filling his pipe with a fresh charge of tobacco; “that is most fortunate, for it will save time, and take fewer men to bring them here. Go on, François.”“Bien, monsieur. Then I felled one or two o’ the trees, to see what like they are; and I found that they are very tough and good. The pines are firmer and tougher than any I ever saw in the Indian country, owing, I suppose, to their stunted growth. While I was thus employed, Augustus shot the grouse we brought home, and we saw a great many coveys of them. In fact, we might have shot many more; but as we did not know how far we should have to walk, we thought it best not to burden ourselves too much. We also saw a great many ducks, and shot a few, as you see.”“Did you see goose?” inquired La Roche, whose mind had a natural tendency to culinary matters.“No,” replied François, “I saw no geese; but I did not go out of my way to look for them. I was more taken up with the timber than replenishing the kettle.”“Ah! that ver’ great pity. Oui, grand dommage. De kittle toujours de most importance t’ing on de voyage. If you forget him, you goot for not’ing. Mais, François, did you look into the deep clear pool at de foot of de rapid?”François emitted a cloud of smoke with a negative in the middle of it.“An!” said La Roche with a sigh, “I thought not; mais it was pity. You see one goose for certain, if you have look straight down into dat pool.”“Bien,” continued François, turning to Stanley. “I then went into one or two more gullies, and saw some more sticks fit for building; but after all it is only in the gullies they grow, and there are not very many. The trees on the banks of the river are chiefly pines, and only fit for firewood.”“And an important item is firewood, as we shall find ere long,” remarked Stanley. “Your account of the timber is very satisfactory, François. Did you see traces of Indians or Esquimaux?”“No; I saw none.”“Perhaps you did, Prince,” continued Stanley, turning to that worthy, who was stretched, along with Massan, at full length before the blaze, and had been listening attentively to the conversation while he solaced himself with his pipe.“Yes, sir, we seed the marks they left behind them,” answered Prince, while he glanced towards Massan, as if to invite him to give the desired information.“Ay, we saw their marks, no doubt,” said the guide, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and raising himself from his reclining posture to that of a tailor, the more conveniently to recharge that beloved implement. “Ay, we saw their marks, and they was by no means pleasant to look on. After we had landed above the p’int, as François told ye, Dick Prince and me went up one o’ the gullies, an’ then gettin’ on one o’ them flat places that run along the face of all the mountains hereabouts, we pushed straight up the river. We had not gone far when, on turnin’ a p’int, we both clapped eyes at the same moment on the most ill-lookin’ blackguard of a wolf I ever saw. Up went both our guns at once, and I believe we were very near puttin’ a bullet in each of his eyes, when we noticed that these same eyes were not bookin’ at us, but starin’, most awful earnest like, up a gully in the mountains; so we looked up, an’, sure enough, there we saw a deer on the mountain-top, tossin’ its head and snuffin’ round to see that the coast was clear before it came down to the water. We noticed that a regular beaten deer-track passed down this gully, and master wolf, who knowed the walk very well, was on the lookout for his dinner; so we waited quiet till the deer came down, an’ Dick put a bullet in its heart, an’ I put one into the wolf’s head, so they both tumbled down the cliffs together. The shot made another deer, that we had not seen, start off into the river; but before it got a few yards from the shore, Dick loaded again and put a bullet into its head too, an’ it was washed ashore at the p’int below us.“Havin’ fixed them off comfortably, we cut up the deer, and put all we could carry on our shoulders, for we knowed that if we left them we’d find nothin’ but the bones when we came back. About an hour after this we came upon a deserted camp of Indians. It was so fresh that we think they must have passed but a few weeks ago. The whole camp was strewed with bones of deer, as if the red varmints had been havin’ a feast. An’ sure enough, a little farther on we came upon the dead carcasses of ninety-three deer! The rascals had taken nothin’ but the tongues an’ tit-bits, leavin’ the rest for the wolves.”“Ay, they’re a reckless, improvident set,” remarked Stanley. “I’ve been told that the Esquimaux are quite different in this respect. They never kill what they don’t require; but the redskins slaughter the deer by dozens for the sake of their tongues.”“We also found the broken head of an Esquimau seal-spear, and this little bit of sealskin.” Massan handed these as he spoke to Stanley.“I fear,” said Frank, “this looks as if they had made an attack on the Esquimaux very recently.”“I fear it much,” said Stanley, examining the little shred of sealskin, which had beautifully glossy hair on one side, and on the other, which was dressed, there were sundry curious marks, one of which bore a rude resemblance to an Indian wigwam, with an arrow pointing towards it.“I found the bit o’ sealskin hanging on a bush a little apart from the place where they camped, an’ from what I’ve seen o’ the ways o’ redskins, it’s my ’pinion that it was put there for some purpose or other.”“Very likely.—Take care of it, Jessie,” said Stanley, throwing it to his wife; “it may be explained some day.—Well, Massan, did you see any other animals?”“Yes, sir, lots o’ them. We saw deer on the hill-tops, and might ha’ shot more o’ them if we could have brought them into camp. An’ we saw porcupines in all the pine bluffs. An’ we saw fish in the lakes among the mountains. There are lots o’ them lakes—small things some o’ them—in all the gullies, and fish in most o’ them; but we had neither lines nor hooks, so we catched none.”“Faix, if ye catched none, yer betters catched plinty,” said Bryan, who, having concluded supper and changed his garments, was now luxuriating in a smoke. The blacksmith pointed as he spoke to the bag of splendid trout which lay at a short distance from the fire. “’Tis mysilf’s the boy to catch them. I would have brought ye two times as much, if it wasn’t that I lost my hook and line. I think it must have bin a fresh-water whale, the last wan, bad luck to it! for it pulled me into the wather three times, an’ wint off at last with two fathom o’ cod-line trailin’ behind it.”“So then, Bryan,” said Frank, “it must have been the yells with which you accompanied your fishing that frightened the deer I was after and caused me to lose him. However, as I got another soon afterwards which must have been frightened towards me by the same halloos, I forgive you.”Frank now gave the party an account of what he had seen, but as his experience merely corroborated that of Dick Prince and Massan, we will not trouble the reader with the details. The evidence of the various exploring parties, when summed up, was undoubtedly most satisfactory, and while it relieved the mind of the leaders of the band, it raised and cheered the spirits of the men. Timber, although not plentiful or very large, was to be had close to the spot where they proposed to erect their fort; game of all kinds swarmed in the mountains in abundance; and the lakes and rivers were well stocked with excellent fish: so that, upon the whole, they considered that they had made an auspicious commencement to their sojourn in the land of the Esquimaux.
It was evening before the tide began to fall and uncover the stake-nets, which were eagerly and earnestly watched by those who had remained in the camp. Mrs Stanley and Edith were seated on an empty box by the margin of the sandy bay; Mr Stanley sat on a nail-keg beside them; La Roche and the Indian were still working at the small canoe a few yards from the tent; and Gaspard, with folded arms, and an unusual smile of good humour playing on his countenance, stood close behind Stanley.
None of the hunting and exploring parties had returned, although the sun had long since disappeared behind the mountains, and the mellow light of evening was deepening over the bay.
“There’s a tail, sir,” said Gaspard, as he hurried towards the net.
“So it is!” cried Stanley, leaping up. “Come along, Eda, and take the first fish.”
Edith needed no second invitation, but bounded towards the edge of the water, which was now gradually leaving the nets. Gaspard had already disengaged a white fish from the mesh, and wading to the beach, gave it to the little girl, who ran with it joyously to her mother. Meanwhile, another and another fish was left by the tide, and Stanley soon after brought up a splendid salmon of about twenty-five pounds weight, and laid it at Edith’s feet.
“Oh, how very beautiful!” cried the child, as she gazed in delight at the silvery scales of the fish.
“My mind is much relieved by this, Jessie,” said Stanley, reseating himself on the keg, while Oostesimow and La Roche carried the fish ashore as Gaspard freed them from the nets. “I now see that there are plenty of fish in the river, and if the hunters bring in a good report to-night, our anxiety on the score of food will be quite removed.”
Although none of the party had ever set a net on stakes before, they had frequently heard of this manner of fishing, and their first attempt proved eminently successful. At low tide stakes had been driven into the sand, extending from the edge of the water towards high-water mark. On these the nets had been spread, and thus the misfortune which had attended the setting of the nets with floats and sinkers was avoided. The quantity of fish taken gave promise of an ample supply for the future. There were two Hearne-salmon (that is, spotted like trout), and one large common salmon, besides thirty white-fish, averaging between two to six pounds weight each, all of which were in excellent condition. The white-fish is of the salmon species, but white in the flesh, and being less rich than the salmon, is much preferred by those who have to use it constantly as an article of food.
“This is a most fortunate supply,” remarked Stanley, “and will prevent the necessity of putting the men on short allowance.”
“Short allowance!” exclaimed his wife; “I thought we had more than enough of food to last us till the arrival of the ship.”
“Ay, so we have. But until now I did not feel at liberty to use it; for if through any accident the ship does not come, and if there had chanced to be no fish in the river, the only course open to us would be to retrace our steps, and as that would be a long and slow process, we would require to economise our food. In fact, I had resolved to begin operations by putting the men on short allowance; but this haul of fish shows me that we shall have more than enough.
“But who comes here?” he added, on observing the figure of a man approaching the camp. “He seems to carry a burden on his back, as far as I can make out in the uncertain light.”
“Did any of the men go out alone?” inquired Mrs Stanley.
“No; but I suppose that this one must have separated from his comrade.—Hallo! who goes there?”
The man tossed the bundle from his shoulders, and hastening forward revealed the flushed countenance of Frank Morton.
“What! Frank! why, man, you seem to have had a hard day of it, if I may judge by your looks.”
“Not so hard but that a good supper will put its effects to flight,” replied Frank, as he rested his gun against a rock and seated himself on the keg from which Stanley had risen. “The fact is, I have slain a noble buck, and being desirous that the men should have as much of it as possible, I loaded myself rather heavily. The ground, too, is horribly bad; but pray send Gaspard for the bundle. I should have been here sooner but for the time required to dissect the animal.”
“Where is Bryan, Frank?” inquired Mrs Stanley. “You went away together.”
“Bryan! I know not. He and I parted in the mountains some hours ago; and as he failed to keep his appointment with me, I concluded that he must have become foot-sore and returned to camp.”
“He has not returned,” said Stanley; “but I have no fear for the honest blacksmith. He’s too old a nor’wester to lose himself, and he’s too tough to kill. But come, Frank, let us to our tent. I see that La Roche has already prepared our salmon for the kettle, and so—”
“Salmon!” interrupted Frank.
“Ay, lad, salmon! a twenty-five pounder too! But come, change your foot-gear, and then we shall have our supper, in the course of which we shall exchange news.”
As they proceeded towards the camp the voices of some of the men were heard in the distance; it was now too dark to see them. In a few minutes François, followed by Augustus and Ma-istequan, strode into the circle of light around the fire, and laying aside their guns proceeded to light their pipes, while they replied to the questions of Frank and Stanley.
“You do not come empty-handed,” remarked the latter, as François and his comrades threw down several fat ducks and a few grouse, which, after the fashion of hunters, they had carried pendent by the necks from their belts.
“We only shot a few, monsieur,” replied François, “to put in the kettle for supper. We might have loaded a canoe had we chosen.”
“That is well,” said Stanley; “but the kettle is full already, and supper prepared. See, Frank has shot a deer, so that we shall fare well to-night.—Ah, Prince! come along. What! more game?” he added, as Dick and Massan entered the halo of light, and threw down the choice morsels of a fat deer which they had killed among the mountains.
“Ah! oui, monsieur,” said Massan, chuckling as he laid aside his axe and gun; “we might ha’ killed three o’ them if we had been so minded; but we couldn’t ha’ brought them into camp, an’, as Dick said, ’tis a pity to kill deer to feed the wolves with.”
“Right!” exclaimed Frank; “but did any of you see Bryan? He gave me the slip in the mountains, and, I fear, has lost himself.”
To this the men replied in the negative, and some of them smiled at the idea of the blacksmith being lost.
“No fear, vraiment! He no lost,” cried La Roche with a laugh, as he lifted the huge kettle from the fire and placed it in the midst of the men, having previously abstracted the best portions for the special benefit of his master. “No fear of Bryan, certainment; he like one bad shilling—he come up toujours. Ah! mauvais chien, him give me all de trouble ov get supper ready mylone.”
“I trust it may be so,” said Stanley. “We are all here except him and Oolibuck, whom I have sent to the coast for a few days to watch for the ship. But let us have supper, La Roche, and spread ours nearer the fire to-night—it is rather cold; besides, I want to hear the reports of the men.”
In compliance with this order, the lively Frenchman spread the supper for his master’s family close beside that of the men, and in a few minutes more a most vigorous attack was made on the viands, during the first part of which the hungry travellers maintained unbroken silence. But as the cravings of nature began to be satisfied, their tongues found time to remark on the excellence of the fare. The salmon was superb. Even Edith, who seldom talked about what she ate, pronounced it very good. The white-fish were better than any of the party had ever eaten in their lives, although most of them had travelled over the length and breadth of the North American wilderness. The ducks were perfect. Even the ptarmigan were declared passable; and the venison, with an inch of fat on the haunches—words were not found sufficiently expressive to describe it. Those who are philosophically inclined may suspect that some of this super-excellence lay in the keen appetites of the men. Well, perhaps it did.
While the travellers were in the midst of this, and ere yet their tongues were fairly loosened, a loud unearthly shout rang with appalling reverberations among the surrounding cliffs, causing the entire party to start up and rush for their arms. Again the cry was heard.
“Ah! bad skran to ye, Losh!—Hould on, Moses, ye fat villain. Lave me wan mouthful, jist wan, to kape me from givin’ up the ghost intirely.”
A shout of laughter greeted the advent of Bryan’s voice, but it was nothing to the peals that burst forth on the appearance of that individual inpropria persona. To say that he was totally dishevelled would convey but half the truth. Besides being covered and clotted with mud, he was saturated with water from head to foot, his clothes rent in a most distressing manner, and his features quite undistinguishable.
“Why, Bryan, what ails you? Where have you been?” inquired Stanley, in a tone of sympathy.
“Bin, is it? Sorra wan o’ me knows where I’ve bin. It’s mysilf is glad to be sartin I’m here, anyhow.”
“I’m glad you’re certain of it,” said Frank, “for if it were not for the sound of your voice, I should doubt it.”
“Ah monsieur,” said La Roche, “make your mind easy on dat. No von but Bryan ever regard de kettle dat way.”
“Taizy voo, ye petit varmint,” said Bryan, approaching the said kettle, and smiling rapturously through the mud that encrusted his face on beholding its contents. Without waiting to change his garments the hungry blacksmith began supper, having first, however, directed attention to the bag which he had brought in. From this bag La Roche now extracted about a dozen trout, some of which were of great size—especially one, whose bulk exceeded that of the large salmon.
“There’s plinty more where thim comed from,” said Bryan, through a mouthful of venison; “but I’ll tell ye ov it afther supper.”
“Ah, true! don’t let us interrupt him just now,” said Stanley. “In the meantime, François, since you seem to be about done, tell us what you have seen, and let us hear what you have to say of the country.”
François having lighted his pipe, cleared his throat and began:—
“Well, monsieur, after we had paddled a short bit beyond the point below the last rapid in Caniapuscaw River, we shoved the canoe ashore, and landed Prince and Massan, who set off to look for game, leavin’ Augustus, Ma-istequan, and me to paddle up the river as well as we could. But we soon found that three men in a big canoe could not make much way agin the strong current of the river, so we put ashore again and took to our legs.
“After making a long tramp up the banks o’ the river, we fell in with some good-sized pines; but although they are big for this part of the country, they are not big enough for building. Then we pushed into the gullies, which are sheltered from the cold winds off the bay, and here we found the trees a good deal bigger. There are pines and larch in abundance, and some of the larch are even bigger than we require.”
“Are they far inland?” inquired Stanley.
“No, monsieur, they are only a few hundred yards from the banks of the river, and growin’ on the edge of a small creek, which I noticed is deep enough to float them down.”
“Good, very good,” said Stanley, filling his pipe with a fresh charge of tobacco; “that is most fortunate, for it will save time, and take fewer men to bring them here. Go on, François.”
“Bien, monsieur. Then I felled one or two o’ the trees, to see what like they are; and I found that they are very tough and good. The pines are firmer and tougher than any I ever saw in the Indian country, owing, I suppose, to their stunted growth. While I was thus employed, Augustus shot the grouse we brought home, and we saw a great many coveys of them. In fact, we might have shot many more; but as we did not know how far we should have to walk, we thought it best not to burden ourselves too much. We also saw a great many ducks, and shot a few, as you see.”
“Did you see goose?” inquired La Roche, whose mind had a natural tendency to culinary matters.
“No,” replied François, “I saw no geese; but I did not go out of my way to look for them. I was more taken up with the timber than replenishing the kettle.”
“Ah! that ver’ great pity. Oui, grand dommage. De kittle toujours de most importance t’ing on de voyage. If you forget him, you goot for not’ing. Mais, François, did you look into the deep clear pool at de foot of de rapid?”
François emitted a cloud of smoke with a negative in the middle of it.
“An!” said La Roche with a sigh, “I thought not; mais it was pity. You see one goose for certain, if you have look straight down into dat pool.”
“Bien,” continued François, turning to Stanley. “I then went into one or two more gullies, and saw some more sticks fit for building; but after all it is only in the gullies they grow, and there are not very many. The trees on the banks of the river are chiefly pines, and only fit for firewood.”
“And an important item is firewood, as we shall find ere long,” remarked Stanley. “Your account of the timber is very satisfactory, François. Did you see traces of Indians or Esquimaux?”
“No; I saw none.”
“Perhaps you did, Prince,” continued Stanley, turning to that worthy, who was stretched, along with Massan, at full length before the blaze, and had been listening attentively to the conversation while he solaced himself with his pipe.
“Yes, sir, we seed the marks they left behind them,” answered Prince, while he glanced towards Massan, as if to invite him to give the desired information.
“Ay, we saw their marks, no doubt,” said the guide, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and raising himself from his reclining posture to that of a tailor, the more conveniently to recharge that beloved implement. “Ay, we saw their marks, and they was by no means pleasant to look on. After we had landed above the p’int, as François told ye, Dick Prince and me went up one o’ the gullies, an’ then gettin’ on one o’ them flat places that run along the face of all the mountains hereabouts, we pushed straight up the river. We had not gone far when, on turnin’ a p’int, we both clapped eyes at the same moment on the most ill-lookin’ blackguard of a wolf I ever saw. Up went both our guns at once, and I believe we were very near puttin’ a bullet in each of his eyes, when we noticed that these same eyes were not bookin’ at us, but starin’, most awful earnest like, up a gully in the mountains; so we looked up, an’, sure enough, there we saw a deer on the mountain-top, tossin’ its head and snuffin’ round to see that the coast was clear before it came down to the water. We noticed that a regular beaten deer-track passed down this gully, and master wolf, who knowed the walk very well, was on the lookout for his dinner; so we waited quiet till the deer came down, an’ Dick put a bullet in its heart, an’ I put one into the wolf’s head, so they both tumbled down the cliffs together. The shot made another deer, that we had not seen, start off into the river; but before it got a few yards from the shore, Dick loaded again and put a bullet into its head too, an’ it was washed ashore at the p’int below us.
“Havin’ fixed them off comfortably, we cut up the deer, and put all we could carry on our shoulders, for we knowed that if we left them we’d find nothin’ but the bones when we came back. About an hour after this we came upon a deserted camp of Indians. It was so fresh that we think they must have passed but a few weeks ago. The whole camp was strewed with bones of deer, as if the red varmints had been havin’ a feast. An’ sure enough, a little farther on we came upon the dead carcasses of ninety-three deer! The rascals had taken nothin’ but the tongues an’ tit-bits, leavin’ the rest for the wolves.”
“Ay, they’re a reckless, improvident set,” remarked Stanley. “I’ve been told that the Esquimaux are quite different in this respect. They never kill what they don’t require; but the redskins slaughter the deer by dozens for the sake of their tongues.”
“We also found the broken head of an Esquimau seal-spear, and this little bit of sealskin.” Massan handed these as he spoke to Stanley.
“I fear,” said Frank, “this looks as if they had made an attack on the Esquimaux very recently.”
“I fear it much,” said Stanley, examining the little shred of sealskin, which had beautifully glossy hair on one side, and on the other, which was dressed, there were sundry curious marks, one of which bore a rude resemblance to an Indian wigwam, with an arrow pointing towards it.
“I found the bit o’ sealskin hanging on a bush a little apart from the place where they camped, an’ from what I’ve seen o’ the ways o’ redskins, it’s my ’pinion that it was put there for some purpose or other.”
“Very likely.—Take care of it, Jessie,” said Stanley, throwing it to his wife; “it may be explained some day.—Well, Massan, did you see any other animals?”
“Yes, sir, lots o’ them. We saw deer on the hill-tops, and might ha’ shot more o’ them if we could have brought them into camp. An’ we saw porcupines in all the pine bluffs. An’ we saw fish in the lakes among the mountains. There are lots o’ them lakes—small things some o’ them—in all the gullies, and fish in most o’ them; but we had neither lines nor hooks, so we catched none.”
“Faix, if ye catched none, yer betters catched plinty,” said Bryan, who, having concluded supper and changed his garments, was now luxuriating in a smoke. The blacksmith pointed as he spoke to the bag of splendid trout which lay at a short distance from the fire. “’Tis mysilf’s the boy to catch them. I would have brought ye two times as much, if it wasn’t that I lost my hook and line. I think it must have bin a fresh-water whale, the last wan, bad luck to it! for it pulled me into the wather three times, an’ wint off at last with two fathom o’ cod-line trailin’ behind it.”
“So then, Bryan,” said Frank, “it must have been the yells with which you accompanied your fishing that frightened the deer I was after and caused me to lose him. However, as I got another soon afterwards which must have been frightened towards me by the same halloos, I forgive you.”
Frank now gave the party an account of what he had seen, but as his experience merely corroborated that of Dick Prince and Massan, we will not trouble the reader with the details. The evidence of the various exploring parties, when summed up, was undoubtedly most satisfactory, and while it relieved the mind of the leaders of the band, it raised and cheered the spirits of the men. Timber, although not plentiful or very large, was to be had close to the spot where they proposed to erect their fort; game of all kinds swarmed in the mountains in abundance; and the lakes and rivers were well stocked with excellent fish: so that, upon the whole, they considered that they had made an auspicious commencement to their sojourn in the land of the Esquimaux.
Chapter Eighteen.Outpost-building—Fort Chimo—An unexpected arrival, which causes much joy.The band of fur-traders now set earnestly about the erection of their winter dwelling. The season was so far advanced that the men could no longer be spared from the work to hunt or fish in the mountains, so that they lived chiefly on the produce of the stake-nets in front of the camp, and a small allowance of the provisions with which they had started from Moose Fort. Occasionally Frank sallied forth and returned with the best parts of a deer on his shoulders; but these excursions were rare, as both he and Stanley worked with the men in the erection of the fort. No one was idle for a moment, from the time of rising—shortly after daybreak—to the time of going to rest at night. Even little Edith found full occupation in assisting her mother in the performance of a host of little household duties, too numerous to recapitulate. The dog Chimo was the only exception to the general rule. He hunted the greater part of the forenoon, for his own special benefit, and slept when not thus occupied, or received with philosophical satisfaction the caresses of his young mistress.The future fort was begun on the centre of the level patch of green-sward at the foot of the flat rock by the spring, where the party had originally encamped. A square was traced on the ground to indicate the stockade; and within this, Stanley marked off an oblong patch, close to the back stockade, for the principal dwelling-house, facing the river. Two other spaces were on either side of this—one for a store, the other for a dwelling for the men. When finished, the fort would thus have the form of three sides of a square surrounded by a stockade. In the centre of this, and the first thing that was erected, was a flag-staff, on which the H.B.C.—Hudson’s Bay Company—flag was hoisted, and saluted with three cheers as its crimson folds fluttered out in the breeze for the first time. The plan on which the houses were constructed was that on which all the dwellings of the fur-traders are built—namely, a framework of timber, the interstices of which are filled up with logs sliding into grooves cut in the main posts and beams. This manner of building is so simple that a house can be erected without any other instruments than an axe, an auger, and a large chisel; and the speed with which it is put up would surprise those whose notions of house-building are limited to stone edifices.The axes of the wood-cutters resounded among the gullies and ravines of Ungava, and awakened the numerous echoes of the mountains. The encampment no longer presented a green spot, watered by a tiny rill, but was strewn with logs in all stages of formation, and chips innumerable. The frameworks of the dwelling-houses began to rise from the earth, presenting, in their unfinished condition, a bristling, uncomfortable appearance, suggesting thoughts in the beholder’s mind highly disparaging to art, and deeply sympathetic with outraged nature. The tents still stood, and the campfire burned, but the superior proportions of the rising fort threw these entirely into the shade. A rude wharf of unbarked logs ran from the beach into the river. It had been begun and finished in a couple of days, for the convenience of Gaspard while visiting his nets, as he sometimes did before the water left them. Everything, in short, bore evidence of the most bustling activity and persevering energy; and in a few weeks from the time of their first landing, the dwelling-houses were sufficiently weather-tight to be habitable, and the other portions of the establishment in an advanced condition.The openings between the logs of the houses were caulked with a mixture of mud and moss, and left in that condition in the meantime, until the pit-saw could be set to work to produce boards for the better protection of the walls without and within. The window and door frames were also made, and covered temporarily with parchment, until the arrival of the ship should enable them to fill the former with glass and the latter with broad panels.The effect of the parchment-covered door, however, was found to be somewhat troublesome. Being large, and tightly covered, it sounded, when shut violently, with a noise so strongly resembling the report of a distant cannon that, during the first day after its erection, the men more than once rushed down to the beach in the expectation of seeing the long and ardently wished-for ship, which was now so much beyond the time appointed for her arrival that Stanley began to entertain serious apprehensions for her safety. This ship was to have sailed from York Fort, the principal depôt of the fur-traders in Hudson’s Bay, with supplies and goods for trade with the Esquimaux during the year. She was expected at Ungava in August, and it was now September. The frost was beginning, even at this early period, to remind the expedition of the long winter that was at hand, and in the course of a very few weeks Hudson’s Straits would be impassable; so that the anxiety of the traders was natural.Just before the partitions of the chief dwelling-house were completed, Stanley went to the tent in which his wife and child were busily employed in sewing.“Can you spare Edith for a short time, wife?” said he, as his partner looked up to welcome him.“Yes, for a short time; but she is becoming so useful to me that I cannot afford to spare her long.”“I’m afraid,” said Stanley, as he took his child by the hand and led her away, “that I must begin to put in my claim to the services of this little baggage, who seems to be so useful. What say you, Eda; will you allow me to train you to shoot, and fish, and walk on snow-shoes, and so make a trader of you?”“I would like very much, papa, to learn to walk on snowshoes, but I think the gun would hurt me—it seems to kick so. Don’t you think I am too little to shoot a gun off?”Stanley laughed at the serious way in which the child received the proposal.“Well, then, we won’t teach you to shoot yet, Eda; but, as you say, the snow-shoe walking is worth learning, for if you cannot walk on the long shoes when the snow falls, I fear you’ll not be able to leave the fort at all.”“Yes, and François has promised to make me a pair,” said Edith gaily, “and to teach me how to use them; and mamma says I am old enough to learn now. Is it not kind of François? He is always very good to me.”“Indeed it is very kind of him, my pet; but all the men seem to be very good to you—are they not?”“Oh yes!—all of them. Even Gaspard is kind now. He never whips Chimo, and he patted me on the head the other day when I met him alone in the ravine—the berry ravine, you know, where I go to gather berries. I wonder if there are berries in all the other ravines?—but I don’t care much, for there are thousands and thousands of all kinds in my own ravine, and—where are you going, papa?”This abrupt question was caused by her father turning into the square of the new fort, in which the most of the men were at work.“I’m going to show you our house, Eda, and to ask you to fix on the corner you like best for your own room. The partitions are going to be put up, so we must fix at once.”As he spoke they passed through the open doorway of the new dwelling, which was a long, low building; and, placing his little daughter in the centre of the principal hall, Stanley directed her to look round and choose a corner for herself.For a few minutes Edith stood with an expression of perplexity on her bright face; then she began to examine the views from each of the corner windows. This could only be done by peeping through the bullet-hole in the parchment skins that in the meantime did duty for glass. The two windows at the back corners looked out upon the rocky platform, behind which the mountains rose like a wall, so they were rejected; but Edith lingered at one of them, for from it she saw the spring at the foot of the rock, with its soft bed of green moss and surrounding willow-bushes. From the front corner on the left hand Cross Island and the valley of the river beyond were visible; but from the window on the right the view embraced the whole sweep of the wide river and the narrow outlet to the bay, which, with its frowning precipices on either side, and its bold flanking mountains, seemed a magnificent portal to the Arctic Sea.“I think this is the nicest corner,” said Edith, turning with a smile to her father.“Then this shall be yours,” said Stanley.“But,” exclaimed Edith, as a sudden thought occurred to her, “perhaps Frank would like this corner. I would not like to have it if Frank wants it.”“Frank doesn’t want it, and Frank shan’t have it. There now, run to your mother, you little baggage; she can’t get on without you. Off you go, quick!”With a merry laugh Edith bounded through the doorway, and disappeared like a sunbeam from the room.On the 25th of September, Stanley was standing on the beach, opposite the fort, watching with a smile of satisfaction the fair, happy face of his daughter, as she amused herself and Chimo by throwing a stick into the water, which the latter dutifully brought out and laid at her feet as often as it was thrown in. Frank was also watching them.“What shall we call the fort, Frank?” said his companion. “We have a Fort Good Hope, and a Fort Resolution, and a Fort Enterprise already. It seems as if all the vigorous and hearty words in the English language were used up in naming the forts of the Hudson’s Bay Company. What shall we call it?”“Chimo! Chimo! Chimo!” shouted Edith to the dog, as the animal bounded along the beach.Both gentlemen seemed to be struck with the same idea simultaneously.“There’s an answer to your question,” said Frank; “call the fort ‘Chimo.’”“The very thing!” replied Stanley; “I wonder it did not occur to me before. Nothing could be more appropriate. I salute thee, Fort Chimo,” and Stanley lifted his cap to the establishment.In order that the peculiar appropriateness of the name may appear to the reader, it may be as well to explain that Chimo (theiandoof which are sounded long) is an Esquimau word of salutation, and is used by the natives when they meet with strangers. It signifies,Are you friendly? by those who speak first, and seems to imply,We are friendly, when returned as an answer. So well known is the word to the fur-traders who traffic with the natives of Hudson’s Straits that they frequently apply it to them as a name, and speak of the Esquimaux as Chimos. It was, therefore, a peculiarly appropriate name for a fort which was established on the confines of these icy regions, for the double purpose of entering into friendly traffic with the Esquimaux, and of bringing about friendly relations between them and their old enemies, the Muskigon Indians of East Main.After playing for some time beside the low wharf, Edith and her dog left the beach together, and rambled towards a distant eminence, whence could be obtained a commanding bird’s-eye view of the new fort. She had not sat many minutes here when her eye was arrested by the appearance of an unusual object in the distance. Frank, who was yet engaged in conversation with Stanley on the beach, also noticed it. Laying his hand on the arm of his companion, he pointed towards the narrows, where a small, white, triangular object was visible against the dark cliff. As they gazed, a second object of similar form came into view; then a fore and top sail made their appearance; and, in another second, a schooner floated slowly through the opening! Ere the spectators of this silent apparition could give utterance to their joy, a puff of white smoke sprang from the vessel’s bow, and a cannon-shot burst upon the mountains. Leaping on from cliff to crag, it awakened a crash of magnificent echoes, which, after prolonged repetitions, died away in low mutterings like distant thunder. It was followed by a loud cheer from the schooner’s deck, and the H.B.C. flag was run up to the main, while the Union Jack floated at the peak.“Now, Frank, give the word,” cried Stanley, taking off his cap, while the men ran down to the beachen masse.“Hip, hip, hurrah!”“Hurrah!” echoed the men, and a cheer arose among the cliffs that moved to the very centre the hearts of those who heard and gave it.Again and again the stirring shout arose from the fort, and was replied to from the schooner. It was no matter of form, or cheer of ceremony. There was a deep richness and a prolonged energy in the tone, which proved that the feelings and lungs of the men were roused to the uttermost in its delivery. It told of long gathering anxieties swept entirely away, and of deep joy at seeing friendly faces in a sterile land, where lurking foes might be more likely to appear.At all times the entrance of a ship into port is a noble sight, and one which touches the heart and evokes the enthusiasm of almost every human being; but when the ship arriving is almost essential to the existence of those who watch her snowy sails swelling out as they urge her to the land—when her keel is the first that has ever ploughed the waters of their distant bay—and when her departure will lock them up in solitude for a long, long year—such feelings are roused to their utmost pitch of intensity.Cheer upon cheer rose and fell, and rose again, among the mountains of Ungava. Even Edith’s tiny voice helped to swell the enthusiastic shout; and more than one cheer was choked by the rising tide of emotion that forced the tears down more than one bronzed cheek, despite the iron wills that bade them not to flow.
The band of fur-traders now set earnestly about the erection of their winter dwelling. The season was so far advanced that the men could no longer be spared from the work to hunt or fish in the mountains, so that they lived chiefly on the produce of the stake-nets in front of the camp, and a small allowance of the provisions with which they had started from Moose Fort. Occasionally Frank sallied forth and returned with the best parts of a deer on his shoulders; but these excursions were rare, as both he and Stanley worked with the men in the erection of the fort. No one was idle for a moment, from the time of rising—shortly after daybreak—to the time of going to rest at night. Even little Edith found full occupation in assisting her mother in the performance of a host of little household duties, too numerous to recapitulate. The dog Chimo was the only exception to the general rule. He hunted the greater part of the forenoon, for his own special benefit, and slept when not thus occupied, or received with philosophical satisfaction the caresses of his young mistress.
The future fort was begun on the centre of the level patch of green-sward at the foot of the flat rock by the spring, where the party had originally encamped. A square was traced on the ground to indicate the stockade; and within this, Stanley marked off an oblong patch, close to the back stockade, for the principal dwelling-house, facing the river. Two other spaces were on either side of this—one for a store, the other for a dwelling for the men. When finished, the fort would thus have the form of three sides of a square surrounded by a stockade. In the centre of this, and the first thing that was erected, was a flag-staff, on which the H.B.C.—Hudson’s Bay Company—flag was hoisted, and saluted with three cheers as its crimson folds fluttered out in the breeze for the first time. The plan on which the houses were constructed was that on which all the dwellings of the fur-traders are built—namely, a framework of timber, the interstices of which are filled up with logs sliding into grooves cut in the main posts and beams. This manner of building is so simple that a house can be erected without any other instruments than an axe, an auger, and a large chisel; and the speed with which it is put up would surprise those whose notions of house-building are limited to stone edifices.
The axes of the wood-cutters resounded among the gullies and ravines of Ungava, and awakened the numerous echoes of the mountains. The encampment no longer presented a green spot, watered by a tiny rill, but was strewn with logs in all stages of formation, and chips innumerable. The frameworks of the dwelling-houses began to rise from the earth, presenting, in their unfinished condition, a bristling, uncomfortable appearance, suggesting thoughts in the beholder’s mind highly disparaging to art, and deeply sympathetic with outraged nature. The tents still stood, and the campfire burned, but the superior proportions of the rising fort threw these entirely into the shade. A rude wharf of unbarked logs ran from the beach into the river. It had been begun and finished in a couple of days, for the convenience of Gaspard while visiting his nets, as he sometimes did before the water left them. Everything, in short, bore evidence of the most bustling activity and persevering energy; and in a few weeks from the time of their first landing, the dwelling-houses were sufficiently weather-tight to be habitable, and the other portions of the establishment in an advanced condition.
The openings between the logs of the houses were caulked with a mixture of mud and moss, and left in that condition in the meantime, until the pit-saw could be set to work to produce boards for the better protection of the walls without and within. The window and door frames were also made, and covered temporarily with parchment, until the arrival of the ship should enable them to fill the former with glass and the latter with broad panels.
The effect of the parchment-covered door, however, was found to be somewhat troublesome. Being large, and tightly covered, it sounded, when shut violently, with a noise so strongly resembling the report of a distant cannon that, during the first day after its erection, the men more than once rushed down to the beach in the expectation of seeing the long and ardently wished-for ship, which was now so much beyond the time appointed for her arrival that Stanley began to entertain serious apprehensions for her safety. This ship was to have sailed from York Fort, the principal depôt of the fur-traders in Hudson’s Bay, with supplies and goods for trade with the Esquimaux during the year. She was expected at Ungava in August, and it was now September. The frost was beginning, even at this early period, to remind the expedition of the long winter that was at hand, and in the course of a very few weeks Hudson’s Straits would be impassable; so that the anxiety of the traders was natural.
Just before the partitions of the chief dwelling-house were completed, Stanley went to the tent in which his wife and child were busily employed in sewing.
“Can you spare Edith for a short time, wife?” said he, as his partner looked up to welcome him.
“Yes, for a short time; but she is becoming so useful to me that I cannot afford to spare her long.”
“I’m afraid,” said Stanley, as he took his child by the hand and led her away, “that I must begin to put in my claim to the services of this little baggage, who seems to be so useful. What say you, Eda; will you allow me to train you to shoot, and fish, and walk on snow-shoes, and so make a trader of you?”
“I would like very much, papa, to learn to walk on snowshoes, but I think the gun would hurt me—it seems to kick so. Don’t you think I am too little to shoot a gun off?”
Stanley laughed at the serious way in which the child received the proposal.
“Well, then, we won’t teach you to shoot yet, Eda; but, as you say, the snow-shoe walking is worth learning, for if you cannot walk on the long shoes when the snow falls, I fear you’ll not be able to leave the fort at all.”
“Yes, and François has promised to make me a pair,” said Edith gaily, “and to teach me how to use them; and mamma says I am old enough to learn now. Is it not kind of François? He is always very good to me.”
“Indeed it is very kind of him, my pet; but all the men seem to be very good to you—are they not?”
“Oh yes!—all of them. Even Gaspard is kind now. He never whips Chimo, and he patted me on the head the other day when I met him alone in the ravine—the berry ravine, you know, where I go to gather berries. I wonder if there are berries in all the other ravines?—but I don’t care much, for there are thousands and thousands of all kinds in my own ravine, and—where are you going, papa?”
This abrupt question was caused by her father turning into the square of the new fort, in which the most of the men were at work.
“I’m going to show you our house, Eda, and to ask you to fix on the corner you like best for your own room. The partitions are going to be put up, so we must fix at once.”
As he spoke they passed through the open doorway of the new dwelling, which was a long, low building; and, placing his little daughter in the centre of the principal hall, Stanley directed her to look round and choose a corner for herself.
For a few minutes Edith stood with an expression of perplexity on her bright face; then she began to examine the views from each of the corner windows. This could only be done by peeping through the bullet-hole in the parchment skins that in the meantime did duty for glass. The two windows at the back corners looked out upon the rocky platform, behind which the mountains rose like a wall, so they were rejected; but Edith lingered at one of them, for from it she saw the spring at the foot of the rock, with its soft bed of green moss and surrounding willow-bushes. From the front corner on the left hand Cross Island and the valley of the river beyond were visible; but from the window on the right the view embraced the whole sweep of the wide river and the narrow outlet to the bay, which, with its frowning precipices on either side, and its bold flanking mountains, seemed a magnificent portal to the Arctic Sea.
“I think this is the nicest corner,” said Edith, turning with a smile to her father.
“Then this shall be yours,” said Stanley.
“But,” exclaimed Edith, as a sudden thought occurred to her, “perhaps Frank would like this corner. I would not like to have it if Frank wants it.”
“Frank doesn’t want it, and Frank shan’t have it. There now, run to your mother, you little baggage; she can’t get on without you. Off you go, quick!”
With a merry laugh Edith bounded through the doorway, and disappeared like a sunbeam from the room.
On the 25th of September, Stanley was standing on the beach, opposite the fort, watching with a smile of satisfaction the fair, happy face of his daughter, as she amused herself and Chimo by throwing a stick into the water, which the latter dutifully brought out and laid at her feet as often as it was thrown in. Frank was also watching them.
“What shall we call the fort, Frank?” said his companion. “We have a Fort Good Hope, and a Fort Resolution, and a Fort Enterprise already. It seems as if all the vigorous and hearty words in the English language were used up in naming the forts of the Hudson’s Bay Company. What shall we call it?”
“Chimo! Chimo! Chimo!” shouted Edith to the dog, as the animal bounded along the beach.
Both gentlemen seemed to be struck with the same idea simultaneously.
“There’s an answer to your question,” said Frank; “call the fort ‘Chimo.’”
“The very thing!” replied Stanley; “I wonder it did not occur to me before. Nothing could be more appropriate. I salute thee, Fort Chimo,” and Stanley lifted his cap to the establishment.
In order that the peculiar appropriateness of the name may appear to the reader, it may be as well to explain that Chimo (theiandoof which are sounded long) is an Esquimau word of salutation, and is used by the natives when they meet with strangers. It signifies,Are you friendly? by those who speak first, and seems to imply,We are friendly, when returned as an answer. So well known is the word to the fur-traders who traffic with the natives of Hudson’s Straits that they frequently apply it to them as a name, and speak of the Esquimaux as Chimos. It was, therefore, a peculiarly appropriate name for a fort which was established on the confines of these icy regions, for the double purpose of entering into friendly traffic with the Esquimaux, and of bringing about friendly relations between them and their old enemies, the Muskigon Indians of East Main.
After playing for some time beside the low wharf, Edith and her dog left the beach together, and rambled towards a distant eminence, whence could be obtained a commanding bird’s-eye view of the new fort. She had not sat many minutes here when her eye was arrested by the appearance of an unusual object in the distance. Frank, who was yet engaged in conversation with Stanley on the beach, also noticed it. Laying his hand on the arm of his companion, he pointed towards the narrows, where a small, white, triangular object was visible against the dark cliff. As they gazed, a second object of similar form came into view; then a fore and top sail made their appearance; and, in another second, a schooner floated slowly through the opening! Ere the spectators of this silent apparition could give utterance to their joy, a puff of white smoke sprang from the vessel’s bow, and a cannon-shot burst upon the mountains. Leaping on from cliff to crag, it awakened a crash of magnificent echoes, which, after prolonged repetitions, died away in low mutterings like distant thunder. It was followed by a loud cheer from the schooner’s deck, and the H.B.C. flag was run up to the main, while the Union Jack floated at the peak.
“Now, Frank, give the word,” cried Stanley, taking off his cap, while the men ran down to the beachen masse.
“Hip, hip, hurrah!”
“Hurrah!” echoed the men, and a cheer arose among the cliffs that moved to the very centre the hearts of those who heard and gave it.
Again and again the stirring shout arose from the fort, and was replied to from the schooner. It was no matter of form, or cheer of ceremony. There was a deep richness and a prolonged energy in the tone, which proved that the feelings and lungs of the men were roused to the uttermost in its delivery. It told of long gathering anxieties swept entirely away, and of deep joy at seeing friendly faces in a sterile land, where lurking foes might be more likely to appear.
At all times the entrance of a ship into port is a noble sight, and one which touches the heart and evokes the enthusiasm of almost every human being; but when the ship arriving is almost essential to the existence of those who watch her snowy sails swelling out as they urge her to the land—when her keel is the first that has ever ploughed the waters of their distant bay—and when her departure will lock them up in solitude for a long, long year—such feelings are roused to their utmost pitch of intensity.
Cheer upon cheer rose and fell, and rose again, among the mountains of Ungava. Even Edith’s tiny voice helped to swell the enthusiastic shout; and more than one cheer was choked by the rising tide of emotion that forced the tears down more than one bronzed cheek, despite the iron wills that bade them not to flow.