A SABLE ISLAND WINTER.
"Well now, look here, mates," Ben continued; "fair and square's the
word between us, ain't it? If I choose to take a notion to these two
here, it's my own lookout, and it's not for any other chap to be
interfering with me, any more than I'd be after wanting your things,
eh?"
They were beginning to see what he was driving at now, and one of them
said, with a sort of sneer,--
"You're not afraid of any one wanting your boy, or his dog either, are
you?"
"Not exactly," answered Ben; "but what I've on my mind is this: seeing
they're my property, I don't want any one to meddle with them or give
them any trouble--that's only fair, ain't it?"
"Fair enough, Ben; but what are you going to do with the boy when we
leave here?" asked one. And there was a murmur of assent to the
question.
"That'll be all right, mates," replied Ben promptly. "I'll be surety
that he doesn't get us into any trouble. You just leave that to me,
and I'll warrant you I'll get him away from us quiet enough. What do
you say, mates?"
Although by dint of bluster and brutality Evil-Eye had forced his way
to a sort of leadership among the wreckers, there was really none of
them with so much influence as Ben. With the exception of Evil-Eye
they were all now quite ready to accept his assurances of Eric not
proving a source of trouble, and to consent to his remaining with them.
Evil-Eye growled and grumbled a good deal, but could get nobody to heed
him; and Ben, satisfied that he had carried his point, and that Eric
and Prince were safe, took his seat again, and lit his pipe for a good
smoke. He was perfectly sincere in promising that Eric would not get
his associates into any trouble. He certainly never imagined what
would be the result of his taking him under his protection. Could he
have had a peep into the future, perhaps he would have hesitated before
becoming his champion. As it was, he gave himself no concern upon the
point.
Eric felt wonderfully relieved at the result of his protector's appeal.
It settled his position among his strange, uncongenial companions.
They might take no notice of him if they chose--indeed, that was just
what he would prefer--but they had, at all events, not only recognized
but consented to his presence, and this took a great load off his mind.
Although his objections had been ignored by his companions, Evil-Eye
was by no means disposed to give up altogether his designs upon Eric.
There were two reasons why he hungered for the boy's life. It was
against his principle of dead men telling no tales that he should be
spared; and, again, he hated Ben, and the mere fact of his being
interested in Eric was quite sufficient to cause the innocent lad to
get a share of that hatred.
In the days that followed, Eric could not fail to be conscious of the
frequency with which the ruffian's one eye was turned upon him, and of
the hyena-like look with which it regarded him. Happy for him was it
that there was a restraining influence which kept that awful look from
finding its way into fitting deed.
Though they did not distinctly recognize any leader--their motto being
each man for himself, and one as good as another--the wreckers regarded
Ben with a respect accorded no other member of the motley crew. This
was in part due to his great size and strength, and in part to his
taciturn, self-contained ways, which prevented any of that familiarity
that so quickly breeds contempt.
Evil-Eye feared Ben no less than he hated him, and dared not openly
attempt anything against him, although the fire of his fury burned
hotly within his breast. In this fear of Ben, much more than in the
decision of the other wreckers, lay Eric's safety. Ere long, this
defence was strengthened in a manner most strange, startling, and
happily most effective.
A week of almost incessant stormy weather had compelled the wreckers to
spend most of their time in the hut. Finding the hours hang heavy on
their hands, many of them had sought solace in drink, of which the
_Francis's_ fine stock of wines and liquors furnished an unstinted
supply. No one drank more deeply than Evil-Eye. Day after day was
passed in a state alternating between coarse hilarity and maudlin
stupor; Ben, on the other hand, hardly touched the liquor, contenting
himself with sipping a little at his meals. It was well, indeed, that
he should be so moderate, for his cool head and strong hand were in
demand more than once to prevent serious conflicts among his
intoxicated companions.
Eric, in spite of the stormy weather, kept as much out of doors as
possible. He preferred the buffeting of the wintry winds to the close
atmosphere of the hut, foul with oaths, and reeking with tobacco and
spirits.
Evil-Eye's carouse had continued several days. Early one night, after
he had fallen into a sottish sleep upon his bunk, and the others had,
later on, one by one turned in for the night, leaving the room in a
silence broken only by the heavy breathing and stertorous snoring of
the sleepers, the whole hut was suddenly aroused by an appalling yell
from Evil-Eye. Starting up, his companions saw him, by the light of a
moonbeam that strayed in through one of the portholes, rise to his feet
with an expression of the most frantic terror upon his hideous
countenance, as he shrieked at the top of his voice,--
"I will--I swear I will--if you'll only let me alone!"
Then, throwing up his arms, he fell over, foaming, in a fit.
For some minutes the hut was a scene of wild confusion as its
bewildered inmates, so suddenly aroused from their sleep, stumbled
about in the darkness trying to find out what was the matter. But Ben,
who was not easily frightened, soon restored order by striking a light,
and showing that whatever may have been the matter with Evil-Eye, there
was certainly no real cause for alarm. Thereupon, with many a growl at
him for disturbing their night's rest, most of them grumblingly went
back to sleep.
A few thought it worth while to see what was the matter with Evil-Eye,
and of these Ben took command. Little as he loved the ruffian, he
could not find it in his heart to let him die for lack of a little
care. So, under his direction, the struggling man was lifted out upon
the floor. His face was splashed with water, while his arms and legs
were chafed by rough hands. In a little while the patient's struggles
grew less violent, the purple hue left his face, and his breathing
became more natural. Presently, with a great sigh, he fell into a
heavy sleep, from which he did not awake for many hours.
Although pestered with questions upon his return to consciousness as to
the cause of his strange behaviour, he refused to give any reason. But
there were two changes in him too noticeable not to excite the remark
of his associates--he was much more moderate in the use of wine, taking
care not to drink to excess; and his attitude toward Eric became
curiously different. Instead of regarding him with his former look of
hungering hatred, he now seemed to have a feeling of dread. He shrank
from being near him, avoiding him in every possible way; treating him,
in fact, much as a dog would a man who had been especially cruel to him.
Ben and Eric at once noted the change, and were well pleased at it.
Some time after, they learned the cause. It seemed that the evening
Evil-Eye had acted so strangely he had been awakened from his drunken
sleep about midnight by a startling vision.
It was the form of a tall man in a military uniform dripping with
sea-water and soiled with sand. On his face was the pallor of death,
and his eyes had an awful, far-away expression, as though they were
looking through the startled sleeper. Fixing them steadfastly upon
Evil-Eye, whose blood seemed to freeze in his veins, he held up his
forefinger as if commanding attention, and pointed to the bunk where
Eric lay sleeping. At the same time his face took on a threatening
look, and his lips moved.
Although no words reached Evil-Eye's ears, he understood. As the
spectre stood before him, so intense was his terror that it broke the
spell which locked his lips, and he shrieked out the words already
mentioned. He knew no more until, at broad daylight, he found himself
weak and miserable in his berth.
Like many men of his kind, Evil-Eye was very superstitious. After the
vision he looked upon Eric as being under the protection of some
ghostly being that would for ever haunt any one who did him any harm.
Henceforth Eric had nothing to fear from him.
Winter on Sable Island is not like winter on the mainland. The Gulf
Stream prevents any long continuance of cold. The snow comes in
violent storms, and fills the valleys with drifts; but these soon
vanish. There is more rain and fog than snow, even in mid-winter; and
the herds of wild, shaggy, sharp-boned ponies which scamper from end to
end of the island have no difficulty in finding plenty to eat among the
grasses which grow rankly in every sheltered spot.
These ponies were a great source of amusement to Eric. But for them
and the rabbits, which were even more numerous, the winter, wearisome
at best, would have been simply intolerable.
The wreckers had captured a score of the ponies, and broken them in
after a fashion. They were kept near the hut, in a large corral built
of driftwood, and there were plenty of saddles and bridles.
Now if there was one manly accomplishment more than another upon which
Eric prided himself it was his horsemanship. He had been put upon a
pony when only five years old, and had been an enthusiastic rider ever
since. At Oakdene he had ridden to hounds since he was twice five
years of age, and there was not a lad in the county with a firmer seat
in the saddle or a more masterful touch of the reins. The saddles and
bridles at Sable Island were poor things compared with those he had
been accustomed to; and the ponies themselves were about as wicked and
vicious as animals of that size could be. But this only lent an
additional zest to the amusement of riding them. Their bad behaviour
did not daunt Eric in the least. With Ben's assistance a pony would be
caught in the corral and saddled, and then off he would go for a long,
lively gallop, Prince, as full of glee as himself, barking and bounding
along at his side.
Very often Ben would keep him company, for there was an old black
stallion of unusual size which seemed equal to the task of bearing his
huge frame. Then Eric's happiness was complete, for every day he was
growing fonder of the big man who had saved him from a dreadful death,
and who now treated him with paternal tenderness.
With the keen wintry air making his cheeks tingle, he would scamper off
at full speed for mile after mile, while Ben lumbered along more
slowly, thoroughly enjoying the boy's vigour and daring. Then, halting
until Ben overtook him, he would canter on quietly.
An amusement of which Eric never tired was chasing the wild ponies, as
though he wanted to catch one of them. Climbing one of the sand-hills,
he would look about until he sighted a herd grazing quietly in the
hollows, and guarded as usual by a touzle-maned stallion of mature
years. Making a wide detour, and carefully concealing his approach by
keeping the hillocks between himself and the ponies, he would get as
near as he possibly could without being seen. If necessary, he
dismounted and crept along on his hands and knees, dragging his own
pony by the bridle, while Prince followed.
When concealment was no longer possible, he would spring into his
saddle, and with wild shouts charge down upon the startled ponies; and
they would gallop off in headlong stampede.
One afternoon, while thus amusing himself, he had quite an exciting
experience, and rather a narrow escape from injury. He had stampeded a
herd of ponies, and picking out a sturdy little youngster as his
particular prey, was pressing him pretty closely, when the pony charged
straight up the side of a hill. As it was not steep, Eric followed
hard after him, taking for granted the slope would be about the same on
the other side. Instead of that, the hill fell away abruptly. Over
plunged the hunted pony. Unable to check his own animal, full of the
spirit of the chase, over plunged Eric too. For a moment both ponies
kept their feet; but the treacherous sand giving way beneath them, they
rolled head over heels. Eric happily got free from his horse in time
to save himself from being crushed underneath it; but when they all
reached the bottom in a heap together, he could not escape the
frantically pawing hoofs, and one of them struck him such a blow upon
the head as to stun him.
When he recovered he found himself lying upon the sand, not a pony in
sight, and Prince licking his face with affectionate anxiety. His head
ached sharply, and he felt somewhat sore after his tremendous tumble;
but not a bone was broken nor a joint sprained. Thankful at having
gotten off so well, he made the best of his way back to the hut.
Ben was greatly pleased at the adventure, and regretted he had not been
there when ponies, boy, and dog rolled down the hill together.
"You ought to let your friends know when you're going to give a
performance like that, my lad," said he, after a hearty laugh. "It's
too good to keep to yourself."
"Perhaps you'd like me to repeat it for you," Eric suggested.
"No indeed, Eric. You got off all right that time, but you might break
your precious neck the next. How would you like to have a try at a
morse? The men tell me they saw a lot of them at the west end this
morning; and as you're so fond of hunting, there's something well worth
killing."