CHAPTER SEVEN.
SHOWS HOW THE PARTY MADE THEMSELVES AT HOME IN THE BUSH--TALK ROUND THECAMP FIRE--A FLASH OF TEMPER--TURNING IN.
The spot where they were thus suddenly arrested in their progress was asmall bay, formed by a low point which jutted from the mainland, andshut out the prospect in advance. There was little or no wood on thepoint, except a few stunted willows, which being green and small wouldnot, as La Roche the cook remarked, "make a fire big enough to roast thewing of a mosquito." There was no help for it, however. The spot onwhich Massan had resolved to encamp for the night was three miles on theother side of the point, and as the way was now solid ice instead ofwater, there was no possibility of getting there until a change of windshould drive the ice off the shore. Moreover, it was now getting dark,and it behoved them to make their preparations with as much speed aspossible. Accordingly, Massan and Prince shouldered one canoe, Francoisand Gaspard carried the other, and the light one was placed on theshoulders of Bryan the blacksmith; La Roche took the provision-basketand cooking utensils under his special charge; while the three Esquimauinterpreters and the two Indian guides busied themselves in carrying themiscellaneous goods and baggage into camp. As for Chimo, he seatedhimself quietly on a lump of ice, and appeared to superintend the entireproceedings; while his young mistress and her mother, accompanied byFrank and Stanley, crossed the ice to the shore, to select a place fortheir encampment.
But it was some time ere a suitable place could be found, as the pointhappened to be low and swampy, and poor Eda's first experience of a lifein the woods was stepping into a hole which took her up to the knees inmud and water. She was not alone, however, in misfortune, for just atthe same moment Bryan passed through the bushes with his canoe, andstaggered into the same swamp, exclaiming as he did so, in a rich broguewhich many years' residence among the French half-breeds of Rupert'sLand had failed to soften, "Thunder an' turf! such a blackguard counthryI niver did see. Och, Bryan dear, why did ye iver lave yer nativeland?"
"Pourquoi, why, mon boy? for ver' goot raison," cried La Roche, in ahorrible compound of French and broken English, as he skipped lightlypast, with a loud laugh, "for ver' goot raison--dey was tired of you tohome, vraiment. You was too grande raskale; dey could not keep you nolonger."
"Thrue for ye, La Roche," replied the blacksmith, "thrue for ye, boy;they sartinly could not keep me on nothin', an' as the murphies was allsp'iled wi' the rot, I had to lave or starve."
At last, after a long search, Frank Morton found a spot pretty welladapted for their purpose. It was an elevated plot of gravel, which wascovered with a thin carpet of herbage, and surrounded by a belt ofwillows which proved a sufficient shelter against the wind. A low andrather shaggy willow-tree spread its branches over the spot, and gave toit a good deal of the feeling and appearance of shelter, if not much ofthe reality. This was of little consequence, however, as the nightproved fine and comparatively mild, so that the black vault of heaven,spangled with hosts of brilliant stars, amply compensated for the wantof a leafy canopy.
Under the willow-tree, Frank and La Roche busied themselves in spreadinga very small white tent for Mr Stanley and his family. Frank himself,although entitled from his position in the Company's service to theluxury of a tent, scorned to use one, preferring to rough it like themen, and sleep beneath the shelter of the small canoe. Meanwhile, MrStanley proceeded to strike a light with his flint and steel; and Bryan,having deposited his burden near the tent, soon collected a sufficiencyof driftwood to make a good fire. Edith and her mother were not idle inthe midst of this busy scene. They collected a few bundles of driedtwigs to make the fire light more easily, and after the blaze wascasting its broad glare of light over the camp, and the tent waspitched, they assisted La Roche in laying the cloth for supper. Ofcourse, in a journey like this, none but necessary articles were taken,and these were of the most homely character. The kettle was thetea-pot, the cups were tin pannikins, and the table-cloth was a largetowel, while the table itself was the ground, from the damp of which,however, the party in the tent were protected by an ample oil-cloth.
When all the things were carried up, and the men assembled, the camppresented the following appearance: in the centre of the open space,which nature had arranged in the form of a circle, blazed the fire; anda right jovial, sputtering, outrageous fire it was, sending its sparksflying in all directions, like the artillery of a beleaguered fortressin miniature, and rolling its flames about in fierce and waywardtongues, that seemed bent on licking in and swallowing up the entireparty, but more especially La Roche, who found no little difficulty inpaying due attention to his pots and kettles. Sometimes the flamesroared fiercely upwards, singeing off the foliage of the overhangingwillow as they went, and then, bursting away from their parent fire,portions of them floated off for a few seconds on the night air. On theweather side of this fire stood Mr Stanley's tent, under thewillow-tree, as before described, its pure white folds showing stronglyagainst the darkness of the sky beyond. The doorway, or curtain of thetent, was open, displaying the tea-equipage within, and the smilingcountenances of Stanley and his wife, Frank and Eda, who, seated onblankets and shawls around the towel, were preparing to make an assaulton the fat duck before mentioned. This duck had been split open androasted on a piece of stick before the blaze, and now stood with thestumps of its wings and legs extended, as if demanding urgently to beeaten--a demand which Chimo, who crouched near the doorway, could scarcehelp complying with.
To the right of the tent was placed the small canoe, bottom up, so as toafford a partial protection to the bedding which Oostesimow was engagedin spreading out for Frank and himself and his comrade Ma-Istequan.Facing this, at the other side of the fire, and on the left of the tent,the largest canoe was turned up in a similar manner, and several of themen were engaged in covering the ground beneath it with a layer ofleaves and branches, above which they spread their blankets; whileothers lounged around the fire and smoked their beloved pipes, orwatched with impatient eyes the operations of Bryan, who, beingaccustomed to have familiar dealings with the fire, had been deemedworthy of holding the office of cook to the men, and was inductedaccordingly.
It is due to Bryan to say that he fully merited the honour conferredupon him; for never, since the days of Vulcan, was there a man seen whocould daringly dabble in the fire as he did. He had a peculiarsleight-of-hand way of seizing hold of and tossing about red-hot coalswith his naked hand, that induced one to believe he must be made ofleather. Flames seemed to have no effect whatever on his sinewy armswhen they licked around them; and as for smoke, he treated it withbenign contempt. Not so La Roche: with the mercurial temperament of hisclass he leaped about the fire, during his culinary operations, in a waythat afforded infinite amusement to his comrades, and not unfrequentlybrought him into violent collision with Bryan, who usually received himon such occasions with a strong Irish growl, mingled with a disparagingor contemptuous remark.
Beyond the circle of light thrown by the fire was the belt of willowswhich encompassed the camp on all sides except towards the sea, where anarrow gap formed a natural entrance and afforded a glimpse of the oceanwith its fields and hummocks of ice floating on its calm bosom andglancing in the faint light of the moon, which was then in its firstquarter.
"How comfortable and snug everything is!" said Mrs Stanley, as shepoured out the tea, while her husband carved the duck.
"Yes, isn't it, Eda?" said Frank, patting his favourite on the head, ashe held out her plate for a wing. "There, give her a bit of the breasttoo," he added. "I know she's ravenously hungry, for I saw her lookingat Chimo, just before we landed, as if she meant to eat him for supperwithout waiting to have him cooked."
"O Frank, how can you be so wicked?" said Eda, taking up her knife andfork and attacking the wing with so much energy as almost to justify herfriend's assertion.
"Snug, said you, Jessie? yes, that's the very word to express it," saidStanley. "There's no situation that I know of (and I wasn't b
ornyesterday) that is so perfectly snug, and in all respects comfortable,as an encampment in the woods on a fine night in spring or autumn."
"Or winter," added Frank, swallowing a pannikin of tea at a draught,nodding to Chimo, as much as to say, "Do that if you can, old fellow,"and handing it to Mrs Stanley to be replenished. "Don't omit winter--cold, sharp, sunny winter. An encampment in the snow, in fine weather,is as snug as this."
"Rather cold, is it not?" said Mrs Stanley.
"Cold! not a bit," replied Frank, making a reckless dive with his handinto the biscuit-bag; "if you have enough wood to get up a roaring fire,six feet long by three broad and four deep, with a bank of snow fivefeet high all around ye, a pine-tree with lots of thick branchesspreading overhead to keep off the snow, and two big green blankets tokeep out the frost--(another leg of that widgeon, please)--you've nonotion how snug it is, I assure you."
"Hum!" ejaculated Stanley, with a dubious smile, "you forgot to add--ayouthful, robust frame, with the blood careering through the veins likewildfire, to your catalogue of requisites. No doubt it is pleasantenough in its way; but commend me to spring or autumn for thoroughenjoyment, when the air is mild, and the waters flowing, and the woodsgreen and beautiful."
"Why don't you speak of summer, papa?" said Eda, who had been listeningintently to this conversation.
"Summer, my pet! because--"
"Allow me to explain," interrupted Frank, laying down his knife andfork, and placing the forefinger of his right hand in his left palm, asif he were about to make a speech. "Because, Eda, because there is sucha thing as heat--long-continued, never-ending, sweltering heat. Becausethere are such reprehensible and unutterably detestable insects asmosquitoes, and sand-flies, and bull-dogs; and there is such a thing asbeing bitten, and stung, and worried, and sucked into a sort of partialmadness; and I have seen such sights as men perpetually slapping theirown faces, and scratching the skin off their own cheeks with their ownnails, and getting no relief thereby, but rather making things worse;and I have, moreover, seen men's heads swelled until the eyes and noseswere lost, and the mouths only visible when opened, and their generalaspect like that of a Scotch haggis; and there is a time when all thisaccumulates on man and beast till the latter takes to the water indesperation, and the former takes to intermittent insanity, and thattime is--_summer_.--Another cup, please, Mrs Stanley. 'Pon myconscience, it creates thirst to think of it."
At this stage the conversation of the party in the tent was interruptedby a loud peal of laughter mingled with not a few angry exclamationsfrom the men. La Roche, in one of his frantic leaps to avoid a tongueof flame which shot out from the fire with a vicious velocity towardshis eyes, came into violent contact with Bryan while that worthy was inthe act of lifting a seething kettle of soup and boiled pork from thefire. Fortunately for the party whose supper was thus placed injeopardy, Bryan stood his ground; but La Roche, tripping over a log,fell heavily among the pannikins, tin plates, spoons, and knives, whichhad been just laid out on the ground in front of the canoe.
"Ach! mauvais chien," growled Gaspard, as he picked up and threw awaythe fragments of his pipe, "you're always cuttin' and jumpin' about likea monkey."
"Oh! pauvre crapaud," cried Francois, laughing; "don't abuse him,Gaspard. He's a useful dog in his way."
"Tare an' ages! you've done it now, ye have. Bad luck to ye! wasn't Ifor iver tellin' ye that same. Shure, if it wasn't that ye're no biggeror heavier than a wisp o' pea straw, ye'd have druve me and the soupinto the fire, ye would. Be the big toe o' St. Patrick, not to mintionhis riverince the Pope--"
"Come, come, Bryan," cried Massan, "don't speak ill o' the Pope, an'down wi' the kettle."
"The kittle, is it? Sorra a kittle ye'll touch, Massan, till it's coolenough to let us all start fair at wance. Ye've got yer mouth andthroat lined wi' brass, I believe, an' would ate the half o't before asoul of us could taste it!"
"Don't insult me, you red-faced racoon," retorted Massan, while he andhis comrades circled round the kettle, and began a vigorous attack onthe scalding mess; "my throat is not so used to swallowin' fire as yourown. I never knowed a man that payed into the grub as you do.--Bah! howhot it is.--I say, Oolibuck, doesn't it remember you o' the dogs o' yerown country, when they gits the stone kettle to clean out?"
Oolibuck's broad visage expanded with a chuckle as he lifted an enormouswooden spoonful of soup to his ample mouth. "Me tink de dogs of deInnuit [Esquimaux] make short work of dis kettle if 'e had 'im."
"Do the dogs of the Huskies eat with their masters?" inquired Francois,as he groped in the kettle with his fork in search of a piece of pork.
"Dey not eat _wid_ der masters, but dey al'ays clean hout de kettle,"replied Moses, somewhat indignantly.
"Ha!" exclaimed Massan, pausing for a few minutes to recover breath;"yes, they always let the dogs finish off the feast. Ye must know,comrades, that I've seed them do it myself--anyways I've seed a man thatknew a feller who said he had a comrade that wintered once with theHuskies, which is pretty much the same thing. An' he said thatsometimes when they kill a big seal, they boil it whole an' have arig'lar feast. Ye must understand, mes garcons, that the Huskies makethumpin' big kettles out o' a kind o' soft stone they find in themparts, an' some o' them's big enough to boil a whole seal in. Well,when the beast is cooked, they take it out o' the pot, an' while they'retuckin' into it, the dogs come and sit in a ring round the pot to waittill the soup's cool enough to eat. They knows well that it's too hotat first, an' that they must have a deal o' patience; but afore longsome o' the young uns can't hold on, so they steps up somewhat desperatelike, and pokes their snouts in. Of course they pulls them out prettysharp with a yell, and sit down to rub their noses for a bit longer.Then the old uns take courage an' make a snap at it now and again, butvery tenderly, till it gits cooler at last, an' then at it they go,worryin', an' scufflin', an' barkin', an' gallopin', just like Mosesthere, till the pot's as clean as the day it wos made."
"Ha! ha! oh, ver' goot, tres bien; ah! mon coeur, just tressplendiferous!" shouted La Roche, whose risibility was always easilytickled.
"It's quite true, though--isn't it, Moses?" said Massan, as he once moreapplied to the kettle, while some of his comrades cut up the goose thatFrank had shot in the afternoon.
"Why, Moses, what a capacity you have for grub!" said Francois. "Ifyour countrymen are anything like you, I don't wonder that they haveboiled seals and whales for dinner."
"It'll take a screamin' kittle for a whale," spluttered Bryan, with hismouth full, "an' a power o' dogs to drink the broth."
"You tink you funny, Bryan," retorted Moses, while an oily smile beamedon his fat, good-humoured countenance; "but you not; you most dreadfulstupid."
"Thrue for ye, Moses; I was oncommon stupid to let you sit so longbeside the kittle," replied the Irishman, as he made a futile effort toscrape another spoonful from the bottom of it. "Och! but ye've lickedit as clane as one of yer own dogs could ha' done it."
"Mind your eye!" growled Gaspard, at the same time giving La Roche aviolent push, as that volatile worthy, in one of his eccentricmovements, nearly upset his can of water.
"Oh! pardon, monsieur," exclaimed La Roche, in pretended sorrow, at thesame time making a grotesque bow that caused a general peal of laughter.
"Why, one might as well travel with a sick bear as with you, Gaspard,"said Francois half angrily.
"Hold your jaw," replied Gaspard.
"Not at your bidding," retorted Francois, half rising from his recliningposture, while his colour heightened. Gaspard had also started up, andit seemed as if the little camp were in danger of becoming a scene ofstrife, when Dick Prince, who was habitually silent and unobtrusive,preferring generally to listen rather than to speak, laid his hand onGaspard's broad shoulder and pulled him somewhat forcibly to the ground.
"Shame on you, comrades!" he said, in a low, grave voice, that instantlyproduced a dead silence; "shame on you, to quarrel on our first night inthe bush! We've
few enough friends in these parts, I think, that weshould make enemies o' each other."
"That's well said," cried Massan, in a very decided tone. "It won't doto fall out when there's so few of us." And the stout voyageur thrusthis foot against the logs on the fire, causing a rich cloud of sparks toascend, as if to throw additional light on his remark.
"Pardon me, mes comrades," cried Francois; "I did not intend toquarrel;" and he extended his hand to Gaspard, who took it in silence,and dropping back again to his recumbent posture, resumed his pipe.
This little scene was witnessed by the party in the tent, who were nearenough to overhear all that was said by the men, and even to conversewith them if they should desire to do so. A shade of anxiety crossedMr Stanley's countenance, and some time after, recurring to thesubject, he said--
"I don't feel quite easy about that fellow Gaspard. He seems a sulkydog, and is such a Hercules that he might give us a deal of trouble ifhe were high-spirited."
A slight smile of contempt curled Frank's lip as he said, "A strong armwithout a bold heart is not of more value than that of my Eda here inthe hour of danger. But I think better of Gaspard than you seem to do.He's a sulky enough dog, 'tis true; but he is a good, hard worker, anddoes not grumble; and I sometimes have noticed traces of a better spiritthan usually meets the eye. As for his bulk, I think nothing of it; hewants high spirit to make it available. Francois could thrash him anyday."
"Perhaps so," replied Stanley; "I hope they won't try their mettle oneach other sooner than we expect. Not that I care a whit for any of themen having a round or two now and then and be done with it; but thisfellow seems to `nurse his wrath to keep it warm.' On such anexpedition as ours, it behoves us to have a good understanding and akindly feeling in the camp. One black sheep in the flock may do muchdamage."
"He's only piebald, not black," said Frank, laughing, as he rose to quitthe tent. "But I must leave you. I see that Eda's eyes are refusing tokeep open any longer, so good-night to you all, and a sound sleep."
Frank's concluding remarks in reference to him were overheard byGaspard, who had risen to look at the night, and afterwards kneeled nearthe tent, in order to be at some distance from his comrades while hesaid his prayers; for, strange though it may seem, many of the rough andreckless voyageurs of that country, most of whom are Roman Catholics,regularly retire each night to kneel and pray beneath a tree beforelying down on their leafy couches, and deem the act quite consistentwith the swearing and quarrelling life that too many of them lead. Suchis human nature. As Gaspard rose from his knees Frank's words fell uponhis ear, and when he drew his blanket over his head that night there wasa softer spot in his heart and a wrinkle less on his brow.
When Frank stepped over to the place where his canoe lay, the aspect ofthe camp was very different from what it had been an hour before. Thefire had burned low, and was little more than a mass of glowing embers,from which a fitful flame shot forth now and then, casting a momentaryglare on the forms of the men, who, having finished their pipes, wereall extended in a row, side by side, under the large canoe. As theypossessed only a single green blanket each, they had to make the most oftheir coverings, by rolling them tightly around their bodies, anddoubling the ends down under their feet and over their heads; so thatthey resembled a row of green bolsters, all their feet being presentedtowards the fire, and all their heads resting on their folded capotes.A good deal of loud and regular snoring proved that toil and robusthealth seldom court the drowsy god long in vain. Turning to his owncanoe, Frank observed that his Indian friends were extended out underit, with a wide space between them, in which his own bedding was neatlyarranged. The grave sons of the forest had lain down to rest longbefore their white comrades, and they now lay as silent and motionlessas the canoe that covered their heads. Being a small canoe, it did notafford protection to their legs and feet; but in fine weather this wasof no consequence, and for the morrow they cared not.
Before lying down Frank kneeled to commend himself and his comrades tothe protection of God; then stirring up the embers of the fire, hepulled out a small Bible from his breast pocket and sat down on a log toread. Frank was a careless, rollicking, kind-hearted fellow, and howmuch there was of true religion in these acts none but himself couldtell. But the _habit_ of reading the Word, and of prayer, had beeninstilled into him from infancy by a godly mother, and he carried itwith him into the wilderness.
When he drew his blanket over him and laid his head on his capote thestars were still twinkling, and the moon still sailed in a clear sky andgave silver edges to the ice upon the sea. All was calm and solemn andbeautiful, and it seemed as if it could never be otherwise in such atranquil scene. But nature does not always smile. Appearances areoften deceitful.