ANXIOUS TIMES.
"How would I like it?" cried Eric, his face beaming. "Why, above all
things. I've often seen pictures of the great ugly creatures, and I
think it would be just splendid to shoot one and get his tusks."
"All right, my boy," replied Ben. "We'll start the first thing in the
morning."
Accordingly, the next morning the two set out upon their ponies for the
west end. Ben carried a heavy musket that would send a load of slugs
through a ship's side, and Eric a light smooth-bore, the accuracy of
which he had proved by frequent practice. As they would be away all
day, they took plenty of biscuits with them. Prince, of course,
accompanied them, and as soon as they had disposed of breakfast they
started.
There were many creatures to be found on Sable Island in those days
which would be vainly sought for now. Besides the ponies, a large
number of wild cattle and hogs roamed about the interior, and furnished
the wreckers with abundant meat; while during the winter the morse, or
walrus, and the great Greenland seal paid the beaches regular visits.
The common harbour seal was there all the year round. Of these
animals, only the ponies and common seals still remain; the others have
been all killed off.
When Ben and Eric drew near the end of the island they dismounted and
tethered the ponies, so that they could not run back to the corral.
They then made their way cautiously to the edge of the bank thrown up
by the waves. Ben was a little ahead of Eric, and the moment he peeped
over the bank he turned and motioned Eric to follow.
"Look, lad!" said he, in a voice full of excitement, as he pointed to
the beach in front. "There they are! Aren't they beauties?"
Eric looked, and his face showed the surprise he had too much sense to
put into words. "Beauties!" he thought to himself. "Why, they are the
most hideous monsters I ever saw in my life."
And they certainly were hideous, with their huge, dun-coloured,
ungainly bodies, their bullet heads, their grizzly beards, their
terrible tusks, and their bulging eyes. They looked as ugly as some
nightmare vision. Plucky as he was, Eric could not restrain a tremor
as he gazed at them. But he had no time to indulge his feelings, for
Ben said in a hoarse whisper,--
"You take that tusker right in front of you, and I'll take the big
fellow to the right, and when I say 'Fire!' let drive. Be sure and aim
right at the nose."
Eric's heart was beating wildly, and he could scarcely breathe for
excitement; but his hand was steady as he drew the musket to his
shoulder, and took careful aim at the nose of the walrus Ben had
assigned to him. Giving a quick glance to see that all was ready, Ben
called "Fire!"
Like the report of one the two muskets cracked together, and the
marksmen peered eagerly through the smoke to see the result. Clearly
enough their aim had been good; for while the remainder of the little
pack of walruses lumbered off into the water snorting with terror, the
two that had been picked out as targets did not follow. Ben's fell
over on the sand, to all appearance dead; but Eric's plunged madly
about, seeming to be too bewildered to take refuge in flight.
Hastily reloading, the hunters rushed upon their prey, and Ben, seizing
a good opportunity, put another charge of slugs into the struggling
creature's head, just behind the ear, which cut short its sufferings.
"Hurrah!" cried Ben, radiant with pride and satisfaction. "We've got
them both, and no mistake. We'll each have a fine pair of tusks, won't
we?"
Eric was no less delighted, and all his nervousness having vanished,
executed a sort of war-dance around the prostrate forms of the
sea-monsters, which looked all the uglier the closer he got to them.
Drawing a big knife from his belt, Ben approached his walrus to sever
the head from the body, Eric standing a little distance off to watch
him. They were quite sure the creature was dead; but the instant the
sharp steel touched its neck it came to life, for it had been only
stunned. With a sudden sweep of its fore-flipper, it hurled Ben over
upon his back, sending the knife flying from his hand.
"Eric! quick! for God's sake!" cried Ben, as he fell.
The infuriated monster was right over him. In another moment those
terrible tusks would have been buried in his body, when, with a roar
like that of a lion, Prince launched himself full at the walrus's head,
and his great fangs closed tightly in the soft part where the head
joins the neck. Uttering a roar quite equal to the dog's, the morse
turned upon his new assailant; but just as he did so, Eric's rifle
spoke again. Its bullet crashed into the monster's brain, and with a
mad flurry, which loosened even Prince's hold, it rolled over upon the
sand, this time dead beyond question.
Ben sprang to his feet, and rushing upon Eric flung his arms around
him, and gave him a hug that fairly squeezed the breath out of him.
Then, without a word, he turned to Prince, and repeated the operation.
He then expressed his gratitude in these words,--
"It was a good day for me when I saved your lives. You've done me good
ever since; and now you've saved my life, and it's only tit for tat.
All right, my lad; so long as there's a drop of blood in my body, no
harm shall come to either of you that Ben Harden can fend off."
The business of beheading, which had been so startlingly interrupted,
was now resumed. From the way Ben handled his knife, he was evidently
quite experienced at the work. They wanted only the tusks, but to get
them out in perfect condition, it would be necessary to boil the heads
until the flesh came off readily; so they had to take them back to the
hut for that purpose.
Well satisfied with the result of their hunt, they ate their lunch and
took a good rest before returning to the hut, which they reached early
in the afternoon. They both felt that they were now bound to each
other by ties of peculiar strength. Eric, uncertain and full of
difficulty as to the future, somehow felt convinced that Ben would
bring it out all right for him. He little imagined how much he would
help himself in escaping.
Chasing ponies and hunting walruses were not the only amusements Sable
Island afforded Eric. As has been already mentioned, the grassy dells
abounded with rabbits and the marshy lake and ponds with wild fowl.
The rabbit-shooting was really capital sport. The bunnies were fine
big fellows, as lively and wary as any sportsman could wish, and to
secure a good bag of them meant plenty of hard work.
It was the rabbit-hunting that found Prince in his glory. Had he been
a greyhound instead of a mastiff he could not have entered more
heartily into the chase. To be sure, he proved, upon the whole, rather
more of a hindrance than a help; but no suspicion of this fact ever
dashed his bright spirit, and not for the world would Eric have hinted
it to him. His redeeming quality lay in his retrieving, for he had
been carefully trained to fetch and carry, and he quickly learned to
hunt out and bring to them the victims of their muskets. The rabbits
were not killed in the mere wantonness of sport. There was always an
active demand for them at the hut, where Black Joe made them into
savoury stews.
About the same time as the walruses came great numbers of the Greenland
seal, which a little later brought forth their funny little whelps.
These looked like amphibious puppies as they sprawled about the beach
or scuttled off into the water. They took Eric's boyish fancy so
strongly that he longed to have one for a pet.
Ben soon gratified him by creeping cautiously upon the pack one day,
and grasping by the tail a fine, sleek, shiny little fellow. After a
couple of weeks' confinement in a pen, that Eric built for him, with
constant, kind attention, the captive became so contented with his new
life, and so attached to his young master, that he was allowed his
liberty. He showed not the slightest disposition to run away. Eric
found him quite as intelligent and docile as a dog, and taught him many
amusing tricks.
So long as the weather was fine Eric had plenty of cures for low
spirits. But in the winter the proportion of fine days to foul is very
small on Sable Island. For a whole week at a time the sun would not
appear, and long storms were frequent. Happily, there was one resource
at hand for the stormy weather.
Among the spoils of the _Francis_ was a leather-covered box, so
handsome and so heavy that one of the wreckers, feeling sure it
contained something valuable, brought it carefully ashore. When he
broke it open he was much disgusted to find that it contained nothing
but books. He flung it into a corner, boasting that "he had no book
larnin', and what's more, didn't want none."
Eric afterwards picked it up, and was delighted to find in it a large
assortment of interesting books. He stowed the box carefully away at
the back of his bunk, and thenceforth, when compelled to stay indoors,
was never without a book in his hands. He read over and over those
well-selected volumes, enriching his mind with their finest passages.
Yet, despite all those exertions, Eric was far from being really happy
or content. His one thought was deliverance from his strange
situation, and he could not disguise from himself how dark his future
looked. Ben, of course, could now be relied upon to the uttermost.
But while his protection availed so long as they remained upon the
island, matters would, no doubt, be different when the time came to
leave the place. Then not only Evil-Eye, but all the other wreckers,
would undoubtedly see to it that there was no fear of his becoming an
informer, and placing them in peril of the law.
As the winter wore away, they often talked about going to Boston; and
Eric gathered from their conversation that with the coming of spring
they looked for a schooner sent out by confederates to take them and
their booty home. This schooner now became the supreme object of his
concern. In it he saw his best, if not, indeed, his only hope of
deliverance. Many an evening when he seemed deep in his books he was,
in reality, with strained ears and throbbing pulses, listening to the
wreckers discussing their plans for the future. Tax his brains as he
might, he could invent no satisfactory scheme.
More than once he tried to talk with Ben about the matter. But whether
Ben did not wish to confess that he had no plan himself, or whether he
thought it best not to excite uncertain hope, he always refused to talk
about it, generally saying,--
"We'll see, my lad, we'll see. I'll do my best for ye, never you fear."
As spring drew near, signs of excitement and eager expectation became
visible among the wreckers. They spent most of the clear days upon the
highest hills, peering out across the waves in search of the schooner.
They did not know just when to expect her. Indeed, had a date been
fixed, they would not have been any better off, for they were without
any means of keeping an account of the days, except by observing the
sun and moon.
The days grew steadily longer and warmer, and yet no schooner appeared.
Hope long deferred did not make the hot temper of the wreckers any more
amiable, and Eric, worried as he was with his own troubles, found life
harder than ever. Moreover, a new danger presently appeared.
The majority of the wreckers showed entire indifference toward him. He
and his big dog were Ben's belongings, and so long as they got in
nobody's way they were let alone. But when day after day and week
after week slipped by, and the schooner did not arrive, the boy began
to notice a change. Ugly, suspicious, threatening glances were cast
upon him, and interchanged. Beyond a doubt, the peril of his position
was alarmingly on the increase.
The explanation was simple enough. Like all men of their class, the
wreckers were intensely superstitious, and the wily villain Evil-Eye,
though indirectly, shrewdly seized upon the delay of the schooner to
strike at Eric. He suggested to the men that the boy's presence was
the cause of the vessel's non-appearance. He had brought them
ill-luck, for not a wreck had come their way since his life had been
spared. Now he was playing them another scurvy trick and, by some
witchery, interfering with the carrying out of their plans.
The seed so craftily sown took root at once. Only the curious feeling,
half-fear, half-admiration, that they held toward Ben saved Eric for a
time from falling a victim to their superstition.
Even his influence would not have availed much longer, had not, one
fine morning in May, the welcome cry of "Sail ho! sail ho!" rung out
lustily from a watcher on the highest hill. Soon the broad sails of a
schooner appeared.
Everything else was forgotten in the joy occasioned by this sight. But
Evil-Eye, again foiled in his base designs, snarled savagely at Eric,
and swore that he would have his own way yet.
The water being too shallow, the schooner hove-to about a mile from
shore, and fired a gun to announce her arrival. But that was not
necessary. All the inhabitants of the island were already on the beach
to welcome her. Presently a boat was lowered, and three persons
getting in, it was rowed swiftly ashore. The breakers were
successfully passed with the aid of a number of the wreckers, who
dashed into the surf, and drew the boat up high and dry upon the beach.
The new-comers were very heartily if somewhat roughly greeted. After
the first excitement was over, Eric noticed they were looking at him
curiously.
Evil-Eye whispered among them, whereupon they shook their heads as
though to say,--
"Oh no, that can't be done. We're quite sure that won't do at all."
Eric's heart sank when he saw this, and rightly guessed its meaning.
There seemed, at best, but two chances for him. He would either be
left behind upon the island in helpless solitude, or be taken to
Boston, and there got rid of somehow--in such a way that he could give
no trouble to the wreckers. On the latter, surrounded although it was
with uncertainties and dangers innumerable, he pinned all his hopes.
It offered some faint chance of ultimate deliverance. But would they
take him on board the schooner?