CHAPTER FIVE.
THE WOUNDED MAN.
It is needful now to return to Fort Dunregan.
The long winter is not yet past, but there are symptoms, as I have said,that it is coming to a close. Snow and ice are still indeed theprevailing characteristic of the region, but the air is no longerintensely cold. On the contrary, a genial warmth prevails, inducing theinhabitants to discard flannel-lined leathern capotes and fur caps forlighter garments. There is a honeycombed look about the snow-drifts,which gives them an aged appearance; and, above all, there is anoccasional dropping of water--yes, actual water--from the points of hugeicicles! This is such an ancient memory that we can scarce believe oursenses. We sniff, too, as we walk about; for there are scents in theair--old familiar smells of earth and vegetation--which we had begun tofancy we had almost forgotten.
The excitement caused by the arrival of the winter packet had also bythat time passed almost out of memory, and we had sunk back into thatcalm state of patient waiting which may probably be familiar to theconvict who knows that some months of monotonous existence still liebefore him; for, not until the snow and ice should completely clear awayand the summer be pretty well advanced could we hope for the blessedsight of a new face and the cheering sound of a fresh human voice. Ofcourse we had the agreeable prospect of hearing ere long the voices ofwild-fowl in their noisy northern flight, but such a prospect was notsufficient to satisfy poor secluded humanity.
"Oh that I were a bird!" exclaimed Spooner, one morning as we wereseated round the Carron stove in our hall.
"No need to wish that," said Lumley, "for you're a goose already!"
"Well, I'd even consent to be a real goose," continued Spooner, "if Icould only thereby use my wings to fly away over the snowy wildernessand alight in my old home."
"What a surprise you'd give them if you did!" said Lumley, "especiallyif you came down with your ruffled feathers as clumsily as you tumbledinto the saw-pit the other day when--"
He stopped, for at that moment I said "Hush!" and held up a finger.
"Sleigh-bells!" exclaimed Spooner, with a catch of his breath.
"Nothing new in that," said Lumley: "we hear them every day."
"Nothing new," I retorted, "to your unmusical ear, but these bells arenot _our_ bells--listen!"
I started up as I spoke, flung open the outer door, and we all listenedintently.
Clear and pleasant they rang, like the music of a sweet new song. Weall gave a shout, clapped on our caps, and ran out to the fort gate.There an almost new sensation thrilled us, for we beheld a team of dogscoming up weary and worn out of the wilderness, preceded by a gaunt yetmajestic Indian, whose whole aspect--haggard expression of countenance,soiled and somewhat tattered garments, and weary gait--betokened severeexhaustion. On the sled, drawn by four lanky dogs, we could see thefigure of a man wrapped in blankets and strapped to the conveyance.
"Who _can_ it be?" exclaimed Lumley, as he hastened out to meet the newarrivals.
"A sick man from somewhere," suggested Spooner.
"Perhaps the governor," said I, "on an unexpected tour of inspection."
As we drew near we could see that the recumbent figure waved a hand andcheered.
"Macnab," said I, as the familiar voice struck my ear.
"Ill--dying!" gasped the anxious Spooner.
"No dying man ever cheered like that!" cried Lumley, "except a hero ofromance in the hour of death and victory!"
A few seconds more and the matter was put at rest, while we warmly shookthe hearty and genial Highlander by both hands.
"Help me out, boys," he said; "I'm tired o' this sled, and think I cando the little remaining bit o' the journey on foot with your help."
We disentangled him from the sledge and set him on his feet.
"Hold on, Lumley," he said, with a smile on his haggard and unshavenface, "I want to embrace you, like the Frenchmen. There--my arm roundyour neck--so. Now, Max, I want to embrace you likewise wi' the otherarm. I've grown awful affectionate in my old age. You are rathershort, Max, for a good crutch, but you're better than nothing. You see,I've only got one good leg."
"But what has happened to the other--when, how, and where?" we exclaimedin chorus.
Macnab answered the questions to our chief, who came forward at themoment with welcome in his visage and extended hands.
"It's only a cut, sir, stupidly done with my own hatchet when we hadbeen but a few days out. But rest will soon put me to rights. My poorman, Big Otter, is more to be pitied than I. But for him I should haveperished in the snow."
"What cheer? what cheer?" said our chief, grasping the Indian's hand onhearing this.
"What cheer?" we all exclaimed, following his example.
"Watchee! watchee!" echoed Big Otter, returning the hearty salutation aswell as his tongue could manage it, and giving us each a powerfulsqueeze with his huge bony hand, which temporary exhaustion had notappreciably reduced in strength.
The native was obviously a sociable, well-disposed man, for his eyesglittered and his white teeth gleamed and his bronzed visage shone withpleasure when Macnab explained the cause of our sudden burst ofaffection for him.
Thus chatting and limping we got the Highlander slowly up to the hall,set him down in our only armchair--a wooden one without stuffing--andfetched him a basin of hot soup, that being a liquid which our cook hadalways more or less frequently on hand.
"Ha! boys!" cried Macnab, smacking his lips, "that's the thing to putlife into a man! I've not had anything like it for many a day. Yousee, we had a small misfortune soon after my accident, which cost us ourkettle, and rendered soup or tea impossible."
"How was that?" inquired our chief, sitting down, while we gatheredround the stove to listen.
"Well, you see, sir, not long after my accident, there came a sharpfrost which made the surface of the snow hard after the thaw, so thedogs could run on the top of the crust without breaking it, but BigOtter, bein' heavy, broke through--by the way, I hope he's bein' lookedafter."
"You may be sure of that," said Spooner. "I saw him safely placed inthe men's house, and Salamander, who, it turns out, is a sort ofrelation of his, set to work to stuff him with the same sort of soup youthink so much of. I only hope they've enough to keep him going, forbefore I left the house he had drunk off two bowls of it almost withouttaking breath, though it was scalding hot."
"Good. He'll do it ample justice," returned Macnab, taking another pullat his own bowl. "I hope you're well provisioned, for Big Otter's anawful consumer of victuals. Well, as I was saying, the surface of thesnow got frozen thinly, and the work o' tramping after the sled andholding on to the tail-line was uncommonly hard, as I could see, for Ilay with my head to the front, looping back on the poor man. But it wason the exposed places and going down the slopes that the greatestdifficulty lay, for there the dogs were keen to run away. Once or twicethey did fairly get off, and gave me some rough as well as long runsbefore my man could catch them up. At last we came one afternoon to anopen plain where the snow had felt the thaw and been frozen again prettyhard. The moment we got on it away went the dogs. Big Otter tried torun, but one of his shoes went through the crust and the other didn't,so down he came, and had to let go the line. I felt easy enough atfirst, for the plain was level, but after a time it became lumpy, and Igot some ugly bumps. `Never mind,' thought I, `they'll be sure to cometo some bushes, and that'll pull them up.' Just as I thought so, wecame to a slope, and the team went slap over a bank. The sled and Ithrew a complete somersault. Fortunately we came down on the dogs,which broke our fall, though it half killed them!
"When Big Otter came and turned me right side up, I found that I hadsustained no damage whatever, but, woe's me! our tin kettle was almostknocked flat. The worst of it was that in trying to put it right wedrove a big hole in the bottom of it, so we had to bid farewell to hotfood, except what we roasted. We could also melt snow by plastering upthe hole so as to get enough to drink, but boiling w
ater was quite outof the question."
"Well, Macnab," said our chief, rising, "since you have got the soupover at last, come along with me and let's hear about your Indianfriend's proposals."
We assisted our visitor into the mess-room, which was also our principalcouncil-chamber, and there left him to talk business with Mr Strangwhile we returned to Bachelors' Hall to let off our effervescing spiritsby indulging in a running commentary on the unexpected visit, and aminute analysis of the characters of Macnab and Big Otter, which, I mustadd, was decidedly favourable.
"It seems to me a piece of good luck that he has got here at all," saidLumley, after we had finished the analysis.
"Why so?" asked Spooner.
"Because there are some unmistakable symptoms that winter is about over,and that snow-shoe and dog-sleigh travelling will soon be impossible."
That Lumley was right, the change of weather during the next few daysclearly proved, for a thaw set in with steady power. The sun became atlast warm enough to melt ice and snow visibly. We no longer listenedwith interest to the sounds of dropping water from eaves and trees, forthese had become once more familiar, and soon our ears were greeted withthe gurgling of rills away in mysterious depths beneath the snow. Thegurgling ere long gave place to gushing, and it seemed as if all naturewere dissolving into liquid.
While this pleasant change was going on we awoke with song and laugh andstory the echoes of Bachelors' Hall--at no time very restful echoes,save perhaps in the dead hours of early morning; and even then they weremore or less disturbed by snoring. For our sociable Highlander, besideshaving roused our spirits by his mere presence to the effervescingpoint, was himself much elated by the mighty change from prolongedsolitude to joyous companionship.
"My spirit feels inclined," he remarked one day, "to jump clean out ofmy body."
"You'd better not let it then," said Lumley, "for you know it mightcatch cold or freeze."
"Not in this weather, surely," retorted Macnab, "and if I did feelcoldish in the circumstances, couldn't I borrow Spooner'sblanket-capote? it might fit me then, for I'd probably be a few sizessmaller."
"Come, Mac," said I, "give us a song. You know I'm wildly fond ofmusic; and, most unfortunately, not one of us three can sing a note."
Our visitor was quite willing, and began at once to sing a wild ditty,in the wilder language of his native land.
He had a sweet, tuneful, sympathetic voice, which was at the same timepowerful, so that we listened to him, sometimes with enthusiasm swellingour hearts, at other times with tears dimming our eyes. No one, save hewho has been banished to a wilderness and long bereft of music, canunderstand the nature of our feelings--of mine, at least.
One evening, after our wounded man had charmed us with several songs,and we all of us had done what we could, despite our incapacity, to payhim back in kind, he pulled a sheet of crumpled paper out of his pocket.
"Come," said he, unfolding it, "I've got a poet among the men of MuskratHouse, who has produced a song, which, if not marked by sublimity, is atleast distinguished by much truth. He said he composed it at the rateof about one line a week during the winter, and his comrades said thatit was quite a picture to see him agonising over the rhymes. Beforethey found out what was the matter with him they thought he was becomingsubject to fits of some sort. Now, then, let's have a good chorus.It's to the tune of `The British Grenadiers.'"
THE WORLD OF ICE AND SNOW.
Come listen all good people who dwell at home at ease, I'll tell you of the sorrows of them that cross the seas And penetrate the wilderness, Where arctic tempests blow-- Where your toes are froze, An' the pint o' your nose, In the world of Ice and Snow.
You've eight long months of winter an' solitude profound, The snow at your feet is ten feet deep and frozen hard the ground. And all the lakes are solid cakes, And the rivers all cease to flow-- Where your toes are froze, An' the pint o' your nose, In the world of Ice and Snow.
No comrade to enliven; no friendly foe to fight; No female near to love or cheer with pure domestic light; No books to read; no cause to plead; No music, fun, nor go-- Ne'er a shillin', nor a stiver, Nor nothin' whatsomediver, In the world of Ice and Snow.
Your feelin's take to freezin', so likewise takes your brain; You go about grump-and-wheezin', like a wretched dog in pain; You long for wings, or some such things, But they're not to be had--oh! no-- For there you are, Like a _fixed_ star, In the world of Ice and Snow.
If you wished you could--you would not, for the very wish would die. If you thought you would--you could not, for you wouldn't have heart to try. Confusion worse confounded, Would aggravate you so-- That you'd tumble down On the frozen ground In the world of Ice and Snow.
But "never-give-in" our part is--let British pluck have sway And "never-say-die," my hearties--it's that what wins the day. To face our fate in every state, Is what we've got to do, An' laugh at our trouble Till we're all bent double-- In the world of Ice and Snow.
Now all ye sympathisers, and all ye tender souls; Ye kind philanthropisers, who dwell between the poles, Embrace in your affections Those merry merry men who go-- Where your toes are froze, An' the pint o' your nose, In the world of Ice and Snow.
It almost seemed as though the world of ice and snow itself had takenumbrage at Macnab's song, for, while we were yet in the act ofenthusiastically prolonging the last "sno-o-ow," there sounded in ourears a loud report, as if of heavy artillery close at hand.
We all leaped up in excitement, as if an enemy were at our doors.
"There it goes at last!" cried Lumley, rushing out of the house followedby Spooner.
I was about to follow when Macnab stopped me.
"Don't get excited, Max, there's no hurry!"
"It's the river going to break up," said I, looking back impatiently.
"Yes, I know that, but it won't break up to-night, depend on it."
I was too eager to wait for more, but ran to the banks of the river,which at that place was fully a mile wide. The moon was bright, and wecould see the familiar sheet of ice as still and cold as we had seen itevery day for many months past.
"Macnab's right," said I, "there will be no breakup to-night."
"Not so sure of that," returned Lumley; "the weather has been very warmof late; melting snow has been gushing into it in thousands of streams,and the strain on the ice--six feet thick though it is--must betremendous."
He was checked by another crashing report; but again silence ensued, andwe heard no more till next morning. Of course we were all up and awayto the river bank long before breakfast, but it was not till after thatmeal that the final burst-up occurred. It was preceded by manyreports--towards the end by what seemed quite a smart artillery fire.The whole sheet of ice on the great river seemed to be rising bodilyupwards from the tremendous hydraulic pressure underneath. But thoughthe thaws of spring had converted much snow into floods of water, theyhad not greatly affected the surface of the ice, which still lay hardand solid in all its wintry strength.
A greater Power, however, was present. If the ice had been made ofcast-iron six feet in thickness, it must have succumbed sooner or later.
At last, as Macnab said, "She went!" but who shall describe _how_ shewent? It seemed as if the mighty cake had been suddenly struck frombelow and shattered. Then the turmoil that ensued was grand andterrible beyond conception. It was but an insignificant portion ofGod's waters at which we gazed, but how overwhelming it seemed to us!Mass rose upon mass of ice, the cold grey water bursting through andover all, hurling morsels as large as the side of a house violently oneach other, till a mighty pile was raised which next moment fell with acrash into the boiling foam. Then, in one direction there was a rushwhich seemed about to carry all before it, but instead of being piledupwards, some of the masses were driven below, were thrust deep into themud, and a jam took place. In a few minutes the ice burst upwardsagain, and the masses were swept on to join the battalions that w
erealready on their way towards the distant lake amid noise and crash anddevastation. It seemed as if ice and snow and water had combined torevive the picture if not the reality of ancient chaos!
Thus the drapery of winter was rudely swept away, and next morning wehad the joy of seeing our river sweeping grandly on in all the liquidbeauty of early and welcome spring.