XXIV
UNCLE BEN APPEARS
"Davy, I've got un! I've got un!" Andy suddenly shouted, seizing hissleeping bag with a display of frenzied joy.
"Got what?" asked David anxiously.
"Th' sleepin' bags! Th' sleepin' bags!" said Andy excitedly. "Don'tyou see, Davy?"
"Aye, that's a sleepin' bag, I sees," admitted David, quite startledby Andy's unusual behavior, and certain enough the lad had gone starkmad, as sometimes happens with starving people.
"And we never thought of un!" explained Andy. "We never thought of un,and they right before our eyes all th' time! We can cut un into stripsand net th' snowshoes with un!"
"Why didn't we ever think o' that, now!" exclaimed David, springing upand seizing his sleeping bag, now no less excited than was Andyhimself.
It is the obvious that most of us overlook. The simple things that arebefore us are the things we never see. There, to be sure, were thesleeping bags. Cut into strips, the sealskins of which they were madewould serve very well indeed for netting the snowshoes.
"A skin or two out of one of un'll be plenty," said David, opening hisjackknife and proceeding at once to cut the sinew with which the bagwas sewn. "One skin out'n my bag'll be enough, Andy, don't cut yours.You're wonderful at thinkin' up things, Andy. I never would havethought of un!"
"I just happened t' think of un first," said Andy, unwilling to taketo himself all the credit.
Presently one of the sealskins was freed from the bag, and while Andyheld it, David, working carefully with his jackknife, cutting aroundthe edge in a spiral, soon reduced it into a single long string.
"Now we'll have to soak un to make un soft," said David, dropping thelashing into a kettle of water. "'Twon't take long."
Weaving the web upon the frames demanded patience, but late that nightthe snowshoes were finished, and though they were crude and roughlymade, they were strong and serviceable enough for the purpose forwhich they were required.
"Pop always says right," remarked Andy, when they hung the foursnowshoes on the tilt wall to dry, and stood for a moment surveyingtheir handiwork. "There is always a way out o' the worst fix everhappened, if we only finds out what 'tis."
"Aye," agreed David, "out of _any_ fix!"
"They'll save our lives," said Andy. "I--I feels almost like cryin',Davy."
"Th' Lard put un into your head t' try th' sealskin, Andy," Davidspoke reverently. "Th' Lard always seems t' be watchin' and helpin'us, whatever happens, and we does what we can t' help ourselves."
"Aye," said Andy, "He does that."
And all in all the boys were right. He never does much for those whosimply pray to Him, and then sit idly with folded hands and expect Himto do the rest. He gave us eyes to see and hands to work and plantedin us the power to reason, and He filled the earth with all thingsnecessary for the support of life. He expects us to do our best at alltimes--to use our brains, and hands and eyes and all ourfaculties--and then if we have faith He helps us to success, and oursuccess in big things and little things alike depends upon how far wedo our best.
It was scarce daybreak when, weak from their long fast, but happy inthe assurance that their imprisonment was at an end and that safetywas promised them, the boys donned their new snowshoes, and set out tothe Narrows tilt.
The snowshoes proved over-small, and sank deeply into the new, softsnow. This held the boys to a slow pace, with the tedious andwearisome effort it demanded, and the sun had set before they made thelast turn in the river above the tilt. David was hauling the toboggan,laden with their belongings, while Andy trudged in advance, bothdragging their feet with painful effort. Suddenly Andy stopped,peering at the tilt, and shouted excitedly to David:
"Look! Look, Davy! There's some one at the tilt!"
And David, looking, discovered smoke curling cheerfully up from thestovepipe.
Hurrying forward they were met at the door by a welcoming:
"Good gracious! Good gracious! And here you are! Both of you safe andsound. Dear eyes!" and a hearty handshake from Uncle Ben Rudder andHiram Muggs.
Tears filled the eyes of both the lads as they grasped the big stronghands of their rescuers. The two men were a connecting link with TheJug and home, and with their appearance a vast load of responsibilityrolled from the shoulders of David and Andy. Their lonely strugglewith the wilderness was at an end.
"Where's Indian Jake? Good gracious, where's Indian Jake?" Uncle Benexploded.
"We're starvin'. We haven't had anything to eat in days and days,"said David, irrevelantly.
Uncle Ben and Hiram were solicitous at once. They hurried the boysinto the tilt, and would not permit them to talk or explain until theyhad eaten a supper of boiled partridges and camp bread and tea whichHiram had already prepared for himself and Uncle Ben.
"Don't talk, now, but eat! Good gracious! starvin'! Eat, now, lads!Fill up! Fill up!" Uncle Ben kept repeating, though the manner inwhich the boys ate made it manifestly unnecessary for him to urgethem.
When they had eaten until they could eat no more, and altogether morethan was well for them, David recounted the events of the precedingweeks, while Uncle Ben interjected at frequent intervals one or all ofhis favorite exclamations:
"Good gracious! I told you so! D-e-a-r eyes!"
"And," added David at the conclusion of his narrative, "'twaswonderful fine for you t' come here t' help us out."
"And so Indian Jake has gone!" said Uncle Ben. "Good gracious! Iwarned Thomas Angus not t' trust that half-breed!"
"But--but don't you suppose now he's gone home with th' fur?" askedDavid anxiously.
"Gone home with un? Good gracious, no! I'd never go home with un!"declared Uncle Ben. "And you saw no tracks which way he were goin'?"
"No," answered David dejectedly, "th' snow had covered un before wegets here."
"Hum-m-m! Hum-m-m!" grunted Uncle Ben several times. "He's well out o'th' country by now. Good gracious, yes! No catchin' him now. And gonewith all th' fur! Good gracious! Good gracious me, with all th' fur!"
Then he explained that he and Hiram had gone directly to his home atTuggle Bight after his visit at The Jug in the fall, and all the wayhome they had talked of how foolish and headstrong Thomas Angus wasin sending Indian Jake to the trails with David and Andy.
"And I says t' Hiram: 'Hiram,' says I, 'Thomas Angus and Doctor Joehas got t' have th' fur them lads gets, t' have th' little lad cured,and we got t' see to it that Indian Jake don't steal un!' Goodgracious, yes! I says that t' Hiram. Didn't I, Hiram?"
"You did, now," agreed Hiram.
"Then we fixes it up t' trap along the Nascaupee th' winter, where noone could get out o' th' country without our seein' 'em," continuedUncle Ben. "Dear eyes, we had un all fixed right, but our plan missedfire! Good gracious! She missed fire! Indian Jake must ha' seen ourtilt with his Indian eyes, and sneaked past down t'other side o' th'river in th' night, and we never see him! Good gracious, never seenhide or hair or feather of him! He must ha' done that, Hiram?"
"He must ha' done it," said Hiram solemnly.
"I were expectin' he'd try t' steal Tom Angus's third o' th' fur hehunted, _what_ever," declared Uncle Ben, "but I weren't certain he'dsteal your fur, too, lads. Good gracious, no! I knew he were bad, butI didn't think he'd do _that_! And he's gone with un all, lock, stock_and_ barrel! And we'll never see him again. The _scamp_! Goodgracious, yes, a _scamp_! Nothin' else but a scamp, and such a scampas I never thought lived! D-e-a-r eyes!"
"A _wonder_ful scamp!" agreed Hiram.
Uncle Ben and Hiram had struck up their traps, and then come up theriver to Seal Lake to "keep an eye," as Uncle Ben said, on Indian Jakeuntil the break-up. They had expected to return with the boys andIndian Jake, stopping at their tilt for their own furs as they passeddown the Nascaupee, and then, still acting as guard, continue with theboys until the furs were safely delivered to Thomas at The Jug.
"You lads need us now to cheer you a bit! Dear eyes! You _needs_cheerin'," Uncle Ben declared. "We'll
wait here for th' break-up andall go home together, and _we'll_ cheer you. Good gracious, yes!"
But now that David and Andy were assured their precious furs werereally gone they felt anything but cheered. And that night, and formany nights that followed, their hearts were heavy indeed.
"What, now, would become of Jamie?" was the question always on theirmind, and they could not answer it, and they even forgot Doctor Joe'scheerful song.
They could picture Jamie, and their father, and Margaret, and DoctorJoe, with loving and abiding confidence and faith in them waiting athome for their return. Jamie's lifelong happiness depended upon thefurs that had been stolen. Doctor Joe had said that Jamie would becomeblind if he did not go to the great doctor for the cure. Now Jamiecould not go, and the ordeal of their homecoming empty-handed, and thedisappointment of Jamie and the others, seemed to them more than theycould bear. And when they thought of all this they almost regrettedthat they had not indeed perished in the blizzard, or starved in thetilt.
XXV
"TROUBLES THAT NEVER CAME TRUE"
With the coming of May the sun grew bold, and fearlessly poured forthhis genial warmth. The end of the reign of the once mighty frostmonarch, who had so long ruled the world, was at hand. The snow beganrapidly to shrink, rains fell, and presently the ice-clogged river andlake were open and free again.
With the break-up immediate preparations were made for departure, andone day the boat was loaded, and the homeward journey was begun.
The descent of the river was much more rapid than the ascent had been,for now they had the current with them. Below the carry around the bigrapids was the tilt where Uncle Ben and Hiram had spent the winter.Here the two men transferred their belongings to their own boat, andthree days later the two boats passed out of Grand Lake, and inmid-afternoon reached the Post.
Zeke Hodge met them at the landing with vociferous greetings andwelcome, but he could offer no comfort. He had seen nothing of IndianJake since the day he had observed the half-breed and the boys ontheir way to the trails the previous autumn.
"Of course not! Good gracious, no!" observed Uncle Ben. "To be sureyou didn't see him. He wouldn't come this way. He wouldn't go wherefolks could see him. The scamp has run out o' th' country with all th'furs!"
And thus, their last hope that Indian Jake might, after all, havereturned to The Jug banished, and with no possibility that thehalf-breed could be overtaken and the furs recovered, David and Andysaid good-bye to Uncle Ben and Hiram, and continued upon their journeyhome with sorrowful and heavy hearts.
The sun was setting when they approached the entrance of The Jug.Evening shadows were already stealing down over the hills when theyturned into the bight and the cabin came into view, and the voice ofRoaring Brook, shouting a welcome, fell upon their ears.
And then they saw their father and Doctor Joe come hurrying down tomeet them at the landing, and Margaret running to join them, asexcited as she could be, and finally Jamie--poor, pathetic littleJamie--groping his way more slowly, and shouting to them at the top ofhis voice.
A moment later they were ashore with Jamie clinging to them, andMargaret hugging them and laughing and crying at the same time, andThomas and Doctor Joe looking as pleased as ever two men could look.
Then the pent-up sorrow and disappointment in their hearts burstbounds, and these two lads who had fearlessly faced a wolf pack, andbraved the wild blizzards and bitter cold of an arctic winter in thewilderness, broke down and wept.
In the cozy shelter of the cabin, in the long twilight, David and Andytold their story. And everybody praised their courage, and nobodyblamed them, for they were guilty of no blame.
"You kept plenty o' grit," soothed Jamie, "and _you_ couldn't helpIndian Jake's takin' th' fur, and--and maybe it won't be so bad goin'blind--when I gets used to un."
Oh, but Jamie, too, had grit, and grit a-plenty.
They tried now, one and all--save Doctor Joe, perhaps--to becomereconciled to Jamie's coming blindness. The great doctor and themarvelous cure were no longer mentioned. Thomas and the boys got thefishing nets out, and methodically went about their duties.
Doctor Joe did not return at once to Break Cove. He seemed to havelost heart and ambition. He ceased to sing his cheerful songs, and hewould go out alone and for hours wander away into the forest, or paceup and down the gravelly beach of The Jug, and sometimes, with afrightened look in his face, he would sit and stare at Jamie.
On one of these occasions, on an afternoon a fortnight after thereturn of David and Andy, Doctor Joe, after watching Jamie for a longwhile, sprang suddenly to his feet, and, standing a dozen feet fromJamie, held out three fingers of his right hand and asked Jimmie tocount them.
"I can't make un out," said Jamie. "They're in a heavy mist."
"Now count them," and Doctor Joe moved nearer.
"I can't make un out," repeated Jamie.
And Doctor Joe must needs approach within six feet of Jamie before thelad could see them sufficiently well to count them.
When the test was made, Doctor Joe without a word donned his cap andpassed out of doors and strode away, up the path and into the forest,and on and on.
Suddenly he stopped, and holding his clenched fist out at arm's lengthwatched it closely.
"As steady as ever it was!" he said at length. "Perhaps I can do it!If only I haven't lost my skill! If only I could forget those yearsand that horrible failure."
For a little he stood silent, beads of perspiration on his forehead.
"I can't do it," he said at length, and turning slowly retraced hissteps toward The Jug.
He stopped again, however, as the cabin came into view, and for a longtime stood deep in thought.
"But I _must_ do it--there's no other way!" he finally exclaimed withdetermination. And, turning his back on The Jug, he strode rapidlyaway toward Break Cove.
It was nearly four hours later when Doctor Joe reappeared at The Jug,with a packet under his arm.
"We were missin' you," greeted Thomas, as Doctor Joe entered thecabin. "Set in and have supper with Margaret. She's kept un on th'stove for you, and she's waited t' eat with you."
"It's kind of you, but can you wait a little, Margaret? There'ssomething I must say to your father before I eat," and there was anew, strong note in Doctor Joe's voice.
"Oh, yes," agreed Margaret cheerfully, "I'm in no hurry."
"Thomas," said Doctor Joe, looking straight into Thomas's face andplunging immediately into the matter, "Jamie's eyes have reached apoint where they must be operated upon at once or he will be beyondhuman help. I know you're resigned to this, but I'm not. So long asthere is the possibility of saving his sight we must do what there isto do. Thomas, _I_ shall operate on them, with your consent. I havefetched my instruments from Break Cove."
"Can--can _you_ do un then?" and Thomas's face brightened with freshhope.
"There is none but me to do it, and we cannot see the lad go blindwithout an effort to save his eyes. Thomas, do you believe in me?"There was pathetic pleading in Doctor Joe's voice.
"Believe in you! There's nary a man I believes in more!" and DoctorJoe knew that Thomas was sincere.
"Thank you, Thomas," said Doctor Joe, a quaver in his voice. "Thatmeans more to me than you will ever understand. But I must tell youabout myself, for I want you to know all about me before I operateupon Jamie's eyes, and when you have heard what I have to say you maynot wish to trust me.
"I was once a skilful eye surgeon in New York," he began, after amoment's silence, "and I performed many difficult operations. The oneambition of my life was to be known as the greatest eye surgeon in mycountry, and my ambition was finally realized.
"But I had become addicted to liquor, which I first took to stimulateme when I was very tired, and to steady my nerves, usually onoccasions when I had denied myself proper rest, or when weary fromoverwork. At length there came a time when I could not do without it,and I always fortified myself with a dose before beginning anoperation. Sometimes in the midst
of long operations it would lose itsstimulating effect to such an extent that my hand would becomeuncertain and unsteady. One day, because of this, I ruined a patient'ssight.
"That was the last operation I ever performed. I turned my patientsover to a young surgeon who had assisted me, and he is the greatdoctor I hoped might operate on Jamie's eyes, for he has taken theplace I once held.
"I made a desperate effort to break myself of the liquor habit, but Isoon discovered this to be impossible so long as I remained whereliquor could be had. It had broken my will and power of resistance,and shattered my nerves to such an extent that I could not again trustmyself with the surgeon's knife. The desire for liquor had become adisease with me, as it is with many a man, and in its presence I wasirresponsible. Liquor, you know, is a poisonous drug, just as opiumis, and the man who becomes addicted to its use is to be pitied.
"There was but one cure for me, and that was to go where it was not tobe had. So in desperation I came north to The Labrador, and left themail boat at Fort Pelican, where I bought the old boat which I wassailing up the bay when you hailed me that day eight years ago. Do youremember, Thomas, how nervous and restless I was?"
"Aye, you were a bit shaky, and we were sayin' you had been sick,"admitted Thomas.
"I _was_ sick then. If you had not taken me in, a stranger of whom youknew nothing, and had not helped me with your friendship, I shouldhave returned to New York and ruin. I felt that if I could remainuntil the freeze-up came that year, and the mail boat stopped running,I would have my longings conquered before another summer came around.God knows how hard it was, even then, for me to stay. More than oncethat fall I said to myself of a night, 'I can't stand it any longer! Imust go!' But each morning you held me with kindness, and your sturdy,wholesome life, and each morning I resolved to stay, whatever mysuffering might be.
"And so it came to pass that you cured me by reaching out to me ahelping hand when I needed it, and so I have remained on The Labradoryear after year, until I am cured of my old thirst and no longer feela desire for liquor. I shall never regain my old position as thegreatest eye surgeon in my country, Thomas, but, thank God, I am morethan that. I am a sane, strong man again, and after all, man is thegreatest thing God ever created."
Doctor Joe, his face beaming, held out his clenched fist, as he haddone before in the forest.
"See!" he exclaimed. "There's no shake to that! I've a man's steadynerve, because you cured me, Thomas Angus, by making it possible forme to live as a clean man should."
"'Tis wonderful steady!" said Thomas, quite astonished and moved byDoctor Joe's story.
"And now that you've heard who I am, and what I've been," and therewas an anxious look in Doctor Joe's face, "are you willing to trustJamie's sight with me, Tom? Any doctor might fail, and my hand mightnot work true, and if I fail, or if I make a mistake, Jamie will neversee again. But on the other hand, unless something is done, and doneat once, Jamie will surely go blind."
"Doctor Joe," said Thomas in a strangely husky voice, "I'd rather haveyou do th' cuttin' than the other doctor, _what_ever. I knows whatyou says is right, and you'll do un better than any other doctor couldbecause you're fond of Jamie and he's fond of you, and you're myfriend. Whatever comes of un will be th' Almighty's will, and if Jamiegoes blind after th' cuttin' I'll never be complainin'."
"Oh, Doctor Joe!" said Margaret, who had been listening, fascinated byDoctor Joe's story, and whose eyes were moist with tears, "we alltrusts you! We trusts you more than we trusts anybody else in theworld!"
And Doctor Joe's emotions nearly got the better of him when Jamie cameover and put his hand in his.
"To-morrow, then," said Doctor Joe, "we'll operate. Jamie, are youafraid to have me cut the mist away?"
"No," said Jamie stoutly, "I'd never be afraid t' have _you_ cut unaway."
"But you _have_ got grit, now!" exclaimed Doctor Joe.
And so, with much hope and much foreboding, Jamie was prepared for theoperation the following morning, and he was as brave as ever a littlelad could be when, quite unassisted, he climbed upon the operatingtable which Doctor Joe had improvised.
Then Thomas, under Doctor Joe's direction, applied the ether, whileDoctor Joe watched its effect, and quickly Jamie passed intounconsciousness.
Deftly, and with a feather-like touch, Doctor Joe with a delicateinstrument made a triangular incision upon the membrane which coveredthe white of one of Jamie's eyes, and turning the membrane backremoved a minute button-shaped piece from the exposed eyeball.Immediately this was done a fluid began to drain through the slightopening, and Doctor Joe spread the membrane back into place.
The other eye was treated in similar manner, and the eyes quicklybandaged by Doctor Joe. And then the unconscious Jamie was gentlylifted into Thomas's bunk, which Margaret had prepared for him.
Not a word had been spoken during all this time save by Doctor Joe, ashe issued sharp, crisp directions to Thomas or Margaret. And now, whenhe looked up, there was a new alert enthusiasm in his face--asomething they had never seen there before.
"We never can tell the result," said he, "until the bandage isremoved, but I never operated more skilfully. Sometimes it doesn'tcure, but it is the only thing to be done in such cases, and we'llhope we have succeeded."
They were still standing by the side of Jamie's bed when the dooropened, and David, turning to see who was entering, cried, excitedly:
"Jake! 'Tis Jake! Here's Jake!"
And sure enough it was Indian Jake, with the bags of furs, and when hebeheld David and Andy he stood staring at them quite as though theywere not boys at all, but ghosts.
Thomas and all greeted Indian Jake as cordially as they could havedone had there never been a suspicion of his honesty, and he wascontrite and sorry enough that his delay had caused them pain andworry.
"When I thought the lads had perished," said he, "I knew that I'd havet' get out of th' country on snowshoes, so I could haul my load on aflatsled, for I never could have managed the boat over the portagewithout help, and I started right off. The break-up caught me at themouth of th' Nascaupee, where I stopped t' hunt bear. Then I waitedtill th' Injuns came along with canoes yesterday, and gave me apassage down."
Then he handed David and Andy the furs over the loss of which they hadspent so many unhappy days, and opening his own bag of furs he drewforth the better of the two silver foxes, and shaking the pelt well,as he had done in the tilt, held it up for admiration, and when allhad marveled at its beauty strode over to the bed of the unconsciousJamie, and laid it upon the blanket.
"It's for the little lad," said he. "Tom, when I heard Uncle Bentellin' you not t' trust me, and you said you'd promised me th' trail,and a man's word was a man's word, I said t' myself, th' best skin Iget this winter goes t' th' little lad that's goin' blind,' and thereit is. I didn't tell th' lads because I wanted t' surprise 'em. Ilike t' surprise folks. It makes me feel good, somehow, inside. Ialways tries t' be honest, Tom. When I left th' country before with myfurs it was because I had word my mother was sick, and I had t' haveth' furs t' help her. She died last winter, and then I came back t'th' Bay t' pay my debts."
And so it came about that Indian Jake proved himself an honest manafter all, and that every one had misjudged him because they did notunderstand his motives. So it is too often with all of us. We jump atconclusions, and misjudge people because we do not understand thecircumstances that move them to do things of which we do not approve.
They must wait four weeks, Doctor Joe said, before the bandage couldbe removed from Jamie's eyes, and before they could know whether hewas ever to see again. Those were four anxious weeks indeed, but Jamiewas patient and confident, and never was there a gentler nurse, or abetter one either, Doctor Joe declared, than Margaret.
But at last, in the twilight of an evening, Thomas, Margaret, Davidand Andy gathered around Jamie, who was sitting in a chair almost tooexcited to control himself, and every one held his breath as DoctorJoe undid the fastenings of the bandage. For a mome
nt Jamie satwinking and blinking, and then cried out in sheer glee:
"Oh, I sees! I sees you all! th' mist is gone. I sees you all plain!"
The joy of that moment cannot be described, but perhaps we can imagineand feel it. The world that opened to Jamie after the long darknesswas a more beautiful world than ever it had been before. His lovedmountains had never seemed so big and brave as when he was permittedto look at them again, and he was quite sure that never before had thepeaks, lighted by the setting sun, been so bright and glorious withheavenly beauty at the moment when God stooped down to kiss the worldgood night.
And so, after all, they had worried a great deal over troubles thatnever came true. But nevertheless it had required grit a-plenty tocarry them bravely over the dark days when the mists hung low.
_Printed in the United Stated of America_
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