It was Charley Norton's first experience in a wilderness camp, but he
slept quite as well as he could have slept in his own bed at home, and
perhaps more soundly. He had lain down wearied with the day's excitement
and exertion, as he had never been wearied before.
The strokes of an ax outside awakened him, and he hurried out to find
Skipper Zeb and Toby preparing breakfast over an open fire. It was
early. The sky was studded with stars, and he stood for a moment to look
out over the starlit and now peaceful waters of the bay. No longer were
the shrieking winds and the booming breakers to be heard, and no sound
broke the silence other than the gentle rhythmic lap of the waters over
the reef.
Rising above the snow-covered foreground, towered the grim cliff of the
Duck's Head. The two figures bending over the brightly burning fire at
its base were pigmies as compared to its great bulk. The romance and
the mystery of the scene thrilled Charley. He breathed deeply of the
crisp, frosty, perfumed air, as he hastened to join Skipper Zeb and
Toby.
"Right on time!" exclaimed Skipper Zeb. "Were you sleepin' warm and snug
the night? I keeps the fire on in the stove to make un warm. The
blankets were a bit damp."
"I never woke up till I heard you chopping wood," said Charley.
"Feelin' good after yesterday's wettin' and chillin'?" asked Skipper Zeb
solicitously.
"Fine and dandy!" Charley answered. "Isn't it great out here!"
"'Tis a fine marnin'," agreed Skipper Zeb. "Toby and I thinks we'll be
makin' an early start, so I'll be comin' early with the boat."
"May I go with you?" asked Charley eagerly.
"Well, now!" and Skipper Zeb looked doubtfully at Charley's leather
shoes and heavy ulster. "You'd be findin' that coat a weary burden, and
you'd be gettin' wonderful cold feet."
"I were dryin' out my other adikey," suggested Toby. "Charley might wear
un. I'll soften up my other skin boots for he, and let him have a pair
of my duffle socks."
"Aye," agreed Skipper Zeb, "he might wear they. Get un, b'y."
In a moment Toby produced from the tent an adikey made of heavy white
woolen cloth, a pair of thick woolen slippers made of heavy blanket
cloth, and a pair of knee-high black sealskin boots with moccasin feet.
The latter were hard as boards, but by rubbing the skin upon the rounded
end of a stick Toby soon had them soft and pliable.
Charley took off his leather shoes, donned the woolen slippers, and over
these pulled the sealskin boots which met his knickers, and with a
buckskin draw string tied the boot tops just below the knees. Then,
removing his ulster, he drew the hooded adikey over his head.
"You looks now like you belong here," commented Toby, much pleased.
"Anyhow," said Charley, "I feel a lot more comfortable, dressed this
way."
"Now we'll eat a bit and get started," suggested Skipper Zeb, passing
the frying-pan which contained fried salt pork, smoking hot. "We'll be
leavin' Mother and Vi'let to rest as long as they wants."
It was a half hour later, and dawn was just breaking, when Skipper Zeb
and Toby picked up their rifles, and with Skipper Zeb in the lead, and
Charley bringing up the rear, they set out for Double Up Cove.
For a little while they followed the shore, single file, making their
way through tangles of willow brush, or over piles of boulders that had
been loosed from the cliffs above by the frosts of untold winters, and
rolled down to the base of the cliff. It was the hardest work Charley
had ever done, and he felt some pride in the fact that he was able to
keep close at Toby's heels, quite unaware that Skipper Zeb was making
what to him and Toby was a slow pace, in order that Charley's
unaccustomed legs might not lag too far behind.
Presently the cliffs receded into sloping hills, covered with a forest
of spruce and tamarack, and here they turned into the forest along the
slopes, where walking proved much easier, though still more difficult
than Charley had expected.
Suddenly some birds arose with a great whir of wings, and alighted in a
tree.
"Spruce pa'tridges!" exclaimed Toby.
In a twinkling Skipper Zeb and Toby had their rifles at their
shoulders, and with the report of the rifles, which was almost
simultaneous, two of the birds fell to the snow below.
To Charley's astonishment, the remaining birds did not fly from the
tree, and still they remained when two more were shot, and in the end
Skipper Zeb and Toby bagged the whole flock of nine. In each case the
head had been neatly clipped off by the bullet, and the body of the bird
was unmarred and uninjured.
"We has two good meals whatever," remarked Skipper Zeb, as they gathered
up the birds. "We'll pluck un whilst they're warm. 'Tis easier to do
than after they gets cold. 'Twill give us a bit of time to rest."
"Why didn't the others fly after you shot the first ones?" asked
Charley. "I expected they'd be frightened and all fly away after the
first shot."
"That's the way with spruce pa'tridges," explained Skipper Zeb. "They
has a wonderful foolish way with un. They don't fly when you shoots.
They're so tame you could almost knock un over with a stick. They flies
in a tree when we comes, thinkin' we're like a fox and can't climb a
tree, and knowin' nothin' about guns there they sets and lets us shoot
un."
To Skipper Zeb and Toby, the shooting of the grouse had meant no more
than a means of securing necessary food. In that land where there are no
domestic animals or birds, men must hunt the wild things to supply their
table, just as a farmer in civilized lands kills chickens from his flock
to supply his table. Charley assisted in plucking the birds, and
silently admiring the marksmanship of his companions, determined that
he, too, would learn to shoot well.
The sun had risen, and the winter forest gleamed and sparkled under its
rays. Through the trees the waters of the bay glinted like molten
silver. The air was redolent with forest fragrance. An impudent Labrador
Jay[3] scolding them in its harsh voice, came so close that Charley
could almost have caught it with his bare hands. Chickadees[4] chirped
in the trees. A three-toed arctic woodpecker hammered industriously upon
a tree trunk. In the distance a red squirrel chattered happily and
noisily.
A thrill of exultation tingled Charley's spine. He was doing the very
thing that his father had believed too hard for him to do, and in a
wilder country than his father had ever seen. How proud and pleased his
father would be when he reached home and told of what he had seen and
done! It would compensate for all the suffering at his supposed loss.
"Plenty of rabbits this year," remarked Toby, calling Charley's
attention to a network of tracks that covered the snow. "We'll be
settin' snares for un. 'Tis great sport."
"Oh, can we snare them?" said Charley. "That will be great."
"Aye," promised Toby, "and we'll be settin' marten traps too. Here's
some marten signs now. There's fine signs of marten this year."
"You catch martens for the fur, don't you?" asked Charley.
"Aye," answered Toby. "They has wonderful fine fur. Weren't you ever
seein' a marten?"
"No," confessed Charley, "I never saw one."
"You'll be seein' they this winter, whatever," promised Toby.
Toby pointed to the tracks of a small animal in the snow.
It was mid-forenoon when they suddenly came upon a cabin in the midst of
a clearing at the edge of the forest, and looking out upon the water.
"Well, now, and here we be safe and sound and in good time!" announced
Skipper Zeb.
He opened a door leading into an enclosed porch, which was built against
one end of the cabin, and through the porch they entered the cabin.
Charley observed that neither the porch door nor the inner door was
locked, and that the latches of both were made of wood, and opened by
pulling a string, which hung outside.
"Not so bad a place to be cast away in!" boomed Skipper Zeb, surveying
the room with pride after depositing his gun upon the beams overhead.
"What does you think of your new home, now? 'Twere easy enough to get
you out o' _that_ fix, says I! Easy enough!"
"It's great!" exclaimed Charley in appreciation. "I'm going to have a
bang-up time with you! I feel at home already!"
"That's fine, now! Fine!" and Skipper Zeb slapped Charley on the
shoulder with his big hand and laughed his hearty laugh. "No worries!
To-day's to-day and to-morrow's to-morrow! Cast away with plenty o' grub
and a snug shelter and berth! Not so bad! Not so bad! That's gettin' out
of a fix, now! Half the time a man worries there's nothin' to worry
about. The worst fix a man ever gets in can't last. There's sure to be
an end to un."
"It seems like a lot to ask of you--taking me into your home this way,"
said Charley appreciatively. "Dad'll make it up to you some day, after I
get home."
"Nothin' to make up, if you means pay me!" broke in Skipper Zeb, rather
resenting the implication that he might expect payment. "'Tis the way of
The Labrador, and the way of the Lard, to share what we has with
castaway folk or folk that's in trouble. 'Tis a pleasure to have you
with us, lad. Mrs. Twig and I'll just be havin' two lads instead of one
the winter, and we were always wishin' we has two. So here you be out o'
your fix, and we're all happy as a swile on a sunny rock."
"I'm wonderful glad to have you, too," added Toby. "I gets wishin' I had
some one to hunt with me, when Dad's away. We'll be huntin' and
cruisin' about together, and have a fine time."
"It's just great to be with you!" and Charley said it with a full and
appreciative heart.
"Now, lads, help me put the boat in the water, and I'll pull over to the
Duck's Head for Mother and Vi'let and the cargo," said Skipper Zeb.
"Whilst I'm gone, Toby, put on a fire and make the house snug."
Charley and Toby helped Skipper Zeb launch a boat, which was drawn up
upon the beach below the cabin, and when he had set out for the Duck's
Head, the boys returned to the cabin, and Toby kindled a fire in a big
oblong box stove.
It was a small cabin, but snug and homelike, and much more comfortable
than the one they had left at Pinch-In Tickle. There was no covering
upon the floor, but the boards were white and clean with much scrubbing.
Sections of old newspapers and picture pages from old magazines were
pasted upon the log walls, and completely covered them. These kept out
no small degree of winter wind and cold, and at the same time did duty
as decorations. Charley observed with interest several guns resting
upon the beams overhead.
There were no chairs in the room, and storage chests served as seats. A
table occupied the center of the room, and this had doubtless been built
by Skipper Zeb himself. Against the side wall was a shelf upon which
stood a silent clock. At one side of the clock was a small Bible, at the
other a candlestick. A bed built against a corner of the room and a dish
closet completed its furnishings.
A partition across the rear of the cabin formed a second room, and built
against the wall, one at each end of this room, were two beds similar to
that in the living-room.
"I sleeps in this un in the big room, and you'll be sleepin' with me,"
Toby advised. "Mother and Dad and Violet sleeps in the beds in the back
room."
The rear of the entrance porch was piled with firewood ready for the
stove, ranked in tiers which reached nearly to the roof, while upon the
walls in front hung dog harness, several pairs of snowshoes, traps and
other gear incident to a hunter's life.
Primitive and crude as was the cabin, it appealed to Charley, doubtless
in contrast to his recent experiences, as most comfortable and
homelike. This feeling of comfort increased when Toby wound the clock,
and it began ticking its welcome.
Toby was quite excited at his return to his winter home. He must needs
see and show Charley everything inside and outside the cabin, and
Charley was interested in all he saw, but most of all in the big, broad
snowshoes and the dog harness.
"Where are the dogs?" Charley asked.
"We leaves un over at Tom Ham's whilst we were at the fishin' in
summer," explained Toby. "Tom Ham lives at Lucky Bight, ten miles to the
nuth'ard from here. We'll be goin' for un soon now."
"It must be fun traveling with dogs," said Charley.
"Aye, 'tis that," agreed Toby, "when the weather's fair and the
travelin' is good. When the weather's nasty with snow or high winds and
frost, or when the goin' is soft, 'tis hard cruisin' with dogs."
When Skipper Zeb returned at one o'clock with Mrs. Twig and Violet, and
the cargo from the wrecked boat, Toby and Charley had a pot of grouse
stewing upon the stove and ready for the dumplings which Mrs. Twig
quickly prepared.
"'Twill be fine for you lads to set some rabbit snares this evenin',"
suggested Skipper Zeb, when dinner was finished. "Rabbit stew would make
fine eatin'. Whilst you're gone, I'll be snuggin' up and makin' things
tidy around the house. Comin' Monday I'll start settin' up the traps on
my path, and I'm thinkin' to take you lads with me on the first round I
makes. When you gets back I'm thinkin' 'twill be well to get the dogs
from Tom Ham's if he don't bring un before. He'll have his wood hauled,
and there'll be good footin' for you lads to take the team and haul our
wood by then."
This was exciting news to Charley. The dogs! How he wanted to see Eskimo
sledge dogs in harness! And to set traps with a real trapper and hunter!
He could scarce wait for the time to come.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Hardtack.
[3] Similar to the Canada Jay, but with darker upper parts and head.
[4] The Hudsonian Chickadee.