On awaking next morning, to their great surprise, they saw that the
_lake was frozen over_! They had almost anticipated as much, for the
night was one of the coldest they had yet experienced--so cold that one
and all of them had slept but badly. As yet the ice was thin, but so
much the worse. It was thick enough to prevent them from using the
canoe, but too thin to bear their weight, and they now saw that they
were _prisoners upon the island_!
It was not without some feelings of alarm that they made this discovery;
but their fears were allayed by reflecting, that they could remain upon
the island until the ice either thawed away or became strong enough to
bear them, and then they could cross upon it to the northern shore.
With this consolation, therefore, they set about making their temporary
quarters upon the island as snug as circumstances would permit. Their
apprehensions, however, began to return again, when several days had
passed over, and the ice neither grew any thinner nor any thicker, but
seemed to remain at a standstill. In the early part of the morning it
was almost strong enough to bear them; but during the day the sun melted
it, until it was little better than a scum over the surface of the
water. The alarm of our voyageurs increased. Their provisions were
nearly out. There was no game on the islet--not so much as a bird--for
they had beaten every bush, and found nothing. Once or twice they
thought of launching their canoe and breaking a way for it through the
ice. But they knew that this proceeding would be one of much labour as
well as danger. The islet was full ten miles from the shore, and they
would therefore have to break the ice for ten miles. Moreover, to stand
up in a bark canoe, so as to get at the work, would be a difficult task.
It could not be accomplished without endangering the equilibrium of the
vessel, and indeed without upsetting it altogether. Even to lean
forward in the bow would be a perilous experiment; and under these
considerations the idea of breaking a way was abandoned. But their
provisions were at length entirely exhausted, and what was to be done?
The ice was still too weak to carry them. Near the shore it might have
been strong enough, but farther out lay the danger. There they knew it
was thinner, for it had not frozen over until a later period. It would
have been madness to have risked it yet. On the other hand, they were
starving, or likely to starve from hunger, by staying where they were.
There was nothing eatable on the island. What was to be done? In the
water were fish--they doubted not that--but how were they to catch them?
They had tried them with hook and line, letting the hook through a hole
in the ice; but at that late season the fish would not take a bait, and
although they kept several continually set, and "looked" them most
regularly and assiduously, not a "tail" was taken.
They were about to adopt the desperate expedient, now more difficult
than ever, of breaking their way through the ice, when, all at once, it
occurred to Norman, that, if they could not coax the fish to take a
bait, they might succeed better with a net, and capture them against
their will. This idea would have been plausible enough, had there been
a net; but there was no net on that islet, nor perhaps within an hundred
miles of it. The absence of a net might have been an obstacle to those
who are ever ready to despair; but such an obstacle never occurred to
our courageous boys. They had two _parchment_ skins of the caribou
which they had lately killed, and out of these Norman proposed to make a
net. He would soon do it, he said, if the others would set to work and
cut the deerskins into thongs fine enough for the purpose. Two of them,
therefore, Basil and Lucien, took out their knives, and went briskly to
work; while Francois assisted Norman in twining the thongs, and
afterwards held them, while the latter wove and knotted them into
meshes. In a few hours both the skins were cut into fine strips, and
worked up; and a net was produced nearly six yards in length by at least
two in width. It was rude enough, to be sure, but perhaps it would do
its work as well as if it had been twined out of silk. At all events,
it was soon to have a trial--for the moment it was finished the sinkers
were attached to it, and it was carried down to the edge of the water.
The three "Southerners" had never seen a net set under ice--for in their
country ice is an uncommon thing, and indeed never freezes of sufficient
thickness to carry the weight of a man. They were therefore very
curious to know how the thing was to be done. They could not conceive
how the net was to be stretched under the ice, in such a manner as to
catch the fish. Norman, however, knew all about it. He had seen the
Indians, and had set many a one himself. It was no new thing for him,
and he set about it at once.
He first crept out upon the ice to the distance of about twenty or
thirty yards from the shore. He proceeded cautiously, as the ice
creaked under him. Having arrived at the place where he intended to set
the net, he knelt down, and with his knife cut several holes in the ice,
at the distance of about six feet from each other, and all in one line.
He had already provided himself with a straight sapling of more than six
feet in length, to one end of which he had attached a cord. The other
end of this cord was tied to the net, at one of its corners. He now
thrust the sapling through the first hole he had made, and then guided
it so as to pass directly under the second. At this hole he took a
fresh hold of the stick, and passed it along to the next, and so on to
the last, where he pulled it out again, and of course along with it the
string. The net was now drawn into the first hole, and by means of the
cord already received through, was pulled out to its full length. The
sinkers, of course, fell down in the water, and drew it into a vertical
position. At both its upper corners the net was made fast above the
ice, and was now "set." Nothing more could be done until the fish came
into it of their own accord, when it could be drawn out upon the ice by
means of the cord attached; and, of course, by the same means could
easily be returned to its place, and set again.
All of them now went back to the fire, and with hungry looks sat around
it, waiting the result. They had made up their minds, should no fish be
caught, to get once more into the canoe and attempt breaking their way
to the shore. Summoning all their patience, therefore, they waited for
nearly two hours, without examining the net. Then Norman and Basil
crawled back upon the ice, to see what fortune had done for them. They
approached the spot, and, with their hearts thumping against their ribs,
untied the knot, and commenced hauling out.
"It certainly feels heavy," said Basil, as he net was being drawn.
"Hurrah!" he shouted, "Something kicks, hurrah!" and with the second
"hurrah!" a beautiful fish was pulled up through the hole, and landed
upon the ice. A loud "hurrah" was uttered in response by Lucien and
Francois--who, fearing the ice might not bear so many, had remained upon
the shore. A yard or two more of the net was cleared, and a second fish
still larger than the former was greeted with a general "hurrah!" The
two fish were now taken out--as these were all that had been caught--and
the net was once more carefully set. Basil and Norman came back to the
shore--Norman to receive quite a shower of compliments from his
companions. The fish--the largest of which weighed nearly five pounds--
proved to be trout; and it was not long before their quality was put to
the proof. All declared they had never eaten so fine trout in their
lives; but when the condition of their appetites is taken into account,
we may infer that there was, perhaps, a little exaggeration in this
statement. If hunger really makes good sauce, our voyageurs had the
best of sauce with their fish, as each of them was as hungry as a
half-famished wolf.
They felt quite relieved, as far as present appetite went, but they were
still uneasy for the future. Should they not succeed in taking more
fish--and it was by no means certain they should succeed--they would be
no better off than ever. Their anxiety, however, was soon removed.
Their second "haul" proved even more successful than the first--as five
fish, weighing together not less than twenty pounds, were pulled up.
This supply would enable them to hold out for a long time, but they had
not much longer to remain on the islet. Upon that very night there was
one of those severe frosts known only in high latitudes, and the ice
upon the lake became nearly a foot in thickness. They had no longer any
fear of its breaking under their weight; and taking their canoe with all
their "traps," they set out to cross over upon the ice. In a few hours
they reached the shore of the lake, near the end of the promontory,
where they chose a spot, and encamped.