PLANS
The cabin at The Jug had three rooms. There was a square living-room,
entered through an enclosed porch on its western grade. At the end of
the living-room opposite the entrance were two doors, one leading to
Margaret's room, the other to the room occupied by the boys. Thomas
himself slept in a bunk, resembling a ship's bunk, built against the
north wall.
The furnishings of the living-room consisted of a home-made table, a
big box stove, three home-made chairs and some chests, which served
the double purpose of storage places for clothing and seats. A
cupboard was built against the wall at the left of the entrance, and
between two windows on the south side of the room, which looked out
upon The Jug, was a shelf upon which Thomas kept his Bible and
Margaret her sewing basket--a little basket which she had woven
herself from native grasses. Behind the stove was a bench, upon which
stood a bucket of water and the family wash basin, and over the basin
hung a towel for general family use.
Pasted upon the walls were pictures from old newspapers and magazines.
There were no other decorations but these and snowy muslin curtains at
the windows, but the floor, table, chairs--all the woodwork,
indeed--were scoured to immaculate whiteness with sand and soap, and
everything was spotlessly clean and tidy. Despite the austere
simplicity of the room and its furnishings, it possessed an
indescribable atmosphere of cosy comfort.
Doctor Joe's bed was spread upon the floor. It was still candle-light
when he was awakened by Thomas building a fire in the stove, for in
this land of stern living there is no lolling in bed of mornings.
"Good-morning, Thomas," said Doctor Joe, with a yawn and a stretch as
he sat up.
"Marnin'," said Thomas.
"How's the morning, Thomas, fair for our trip to Fort Pelican?"
"Aye, 'tis a fine marnin'," announced Thomas, "but I were thinkin'
'twould be better to wait over till to-morrow for the trip. After your
long voyage 'twould be a bit trying for you to turn back to-day to
Fort Pelican without restin' up, and I'm not doubtin' a day
whatever'll do no harm to the potaters and things."
"I believe you're right, Thomas," and Doctor Joe spoke with evident
relief. "I thought you'd be getting ready for the trapping and would
like to get the Fort Pelican trip out of the way. We'll put the trip
off till to-morrow."
Doctor Joe dressed hurriedly, and went out to enjoy the cool, crisp
morning. Everything was white with hoarfrost. The air was charged with
the perfume of balsam and spruce and other sweet odours of the forest.
Doctor Joe took long, deep, delicious breaths as he looked about him
at the familiar scene.
The last stars were fading in the growing light. A low mist hung over
The Jug, and beyond the haze lay the dark, heaving waters of Eskimo
Bay. In the distance beyond the Bay the high peaks of the Mealy
Mountains rose out of the gloom, white with snow and looming above the
dark forest at their base in cold and silent majesty. Behind the
cabin stretched the vast, mysterious, unbounded wilderness which held,
hidden in its unmeasured depths, rivers and lakes and mountains that
no man, save the wandering Indian, had ever looked upon--great
solitudes whose silence had remained unbroken through the ages.
"If some of those Boy Scouts could only see this!" exclaimed Doctor
Joe.
"'Twere fashioned by the Almighty for comfortable livin'," said
Thomas, who had called Margaret and the boys and come out unobserved
by Doctor Joe. "There's no better shelter on the coast, and no better
place for seals and salmon, with neighbours handy when we wants to see
un, and plenty o' room to stretch. 'Tis the finest _I_ ever saw,
whatever."
"Yes, 'tis all of that," agreed Doctor Joe. "But I wasn't thinking now
of The Jug alone. I was thinking of the majestic grandeur of the whole
scene. I was enjoying the freedom from the noise and scramble, the
dirt and smoke and smudge of the city, with its piles upon piles of
ugly buildings, and never a breath of such pure air as this to be
breathed. I was thinking of these fine young chaps, the Boy Scouts I
saw there, who are trying to study God's big out-of-doors and must
content themselves with stingy little parks. It's the love of Nature
that takes them to the parks, and compared with this they have a poor
substitute. This is the world as God made it, with all its primordial
beauty. We're fortunate that circumstances placed us here, Thomas, and
we should be for ever thankful."
"I'm wonderin' now," observed Thomas, as he and Doctor Joe paced up
and down the gravelly beach, "why folks ever lives in such places as
you tells about. There's plenty o' room down here on The Labrador, and
plenty o' other places, I'm not doubtin', where they'd be free from
the crowds and dirt, and have plenty o' room to stretch, and live fine
like we lives."
"We're a thousand miles from a railway," said Doctor Joe. "Most of the
people in the cities wouldn't live a thousand paces from a railway if
they could help themselves. They take a car and ride if they've only
half a mile to go. They ride so much they've almost forgotten how to
walk. They like crowds. They'd be lonesome if they were away from
them."
"'Tis strange, wonderful strange, how some folks lives," remarked
Thomas, quite astonished that any could prefer the city to his own
big, free Labrador. "When folks has enough to keep un busy they never
gets lonesome, and bein' idle is like wastin' a part of life. A man
could never be lonesome where there's plenty o' water and woods about.
I always finds jobs a-plenty to turn my hand to, and I has no time to
feel lonesome. And I never could live where I didn't have room enough
to stretch, _what_ever."
"That's it!" Doctor Joe spoke decisively. "Room enough to stretch mind
as well as body. Why, Thomas, I've often heard men say that they had
to 'kill time', and didn't know what to do with themselves for hours
together!"
"'Tis wicked and against the Lord's will," and Thomas shook his head.
"The Lord never wants folks to be idle or kill time. He fixes it so
there's a-plenty of useful things for everybody to do all the time,
and they wants to do un."
"'Tis the measure of a man's worth," remarked Doctor Joe. "The
worth-while man never has an hour to kill. The day hasn't hours
enough for him. It's the other kind that kill time--the sort that are
not, and never will be, of much account in the world."
They walked a little in silence, each busy with his own thoughts, when
Thomas remarked:
"The Lord has been wonderful good to me, Doctor Joe, givin' me three
as fine lads and as fine a lass as He ever gave a man. Then He saves
the little lad's eyes, when they were goin' blind, by sendin' you to
cure un. And when I were breakin' my leg and couldn't work He sends
along Indian Jake to go to the trails to hunt with David and Andy, and
they makes a fine hunt and keeps us out o' debt. And this summer we
has as fine a catch of salmon as ever we has, and we're through with
un a fortnight ahead of ever before, with all the barrels filled and
the gear stowed, and the salt salmon traded in at the Post, and plenty
o' flour and pork and molasses and tea t' see us through the winter,
_what_ever."
"Last year at this time things looked pretty blue for us," said Doctor
Joe, "but everything worked out well in the end, Thomas."
"Aye," agreed Thomas, "wonderful well. I'm thinkin' that if we does
our best t' help ourselves when troubles come the Lord is like t' step
in and give us a hand. He wants us to do the best we can t' help
ourselves and when He sees we're doin' it He lifts the troubles."
"That's true," agreed Doctor Joe, "and if a man takes advantage of
every opportunity that comes to him, and don't waste his time, he's
pretty sure to succeed."
"Aye, that he is," said Thomas. "Now I were thinkin' that the lads
worked so wonderful hard at the salmon th' summer, I'd let un go with
you to Fort Pelican t' manage the boat, and I'll be staying home to
make ready for the trail. There's a-plenty to be done yet to make
ready without hurry, and a trip to Fort Pelican will be a rare treat
for the lads. But I'll go if you wants. I were just askin' if 'twould
be suitin' you if I stays home and lets they go?"
"Why, of course! That's great! Simply great!" exclaimed Doctor Joe.
"The boys will make a fine crew! Will Jamie go too?"
"Aye, Jamie's been workin' like a man, and he'll be keen for the
trip," said Thomas. "And last night I were thinkin' after I goes to
bed how fine 'tis that you're to be doctor to the coast. Indian
Jake's to be my trappin' pardner th' winter, and the lads'll 'bide
home. You'll be needin' dogs and komatik (sledge) to take you about.
There'll be little enough for the dogs to do, and you'll be welcome to
un. The lads can do the drivin' for you and whatever you wants un to
do. Use un all you needs. I wants to do my share to help you do the
doctorin'."
"Thank you! Thank you, Thomas!" Doctor Joe accepted gratefully. "This
will make it possible for me to see a good many people that I
otherwise would not be able to see, and make it easier for me also."
"Aye," said Thomas, "I were thinkin' that too, and the lads will be
glad enough to lend you a hand when you needs un."
It was broad daylight. While Thomas and Doctor Joe talked on the
beach, the boys had been busily engaged in carrying the day's supply
of water from Roaring Brook to a water barrel in the porch. Now Jamie
appeared to announce breakfast. While they ate the boys were able to
talk of little else than the scout books, and the fact they were to do
as boys did in other parts of the world. And they were delighted
beyond measure when they learned that they were to make the voyage to
Fort Pelican with Doctor Joe. It was an event of vast importance.
"There'll be plenty o' time in the boat to study the scout book
things," Andy suggested. "Maybe now we could learn to be scouts before
we gets back home."
"I've no doubt you can pass all the tenderfoot tests while we're
away," said Doctor Joe. "And since you're to take me about with dogs
and komatik this winter when I go to visit sick people, there'll be no
end of chances to show what good scouts you are."
"To take you about?" asked Andy excitedly.
Then Thomas must needs explain that they must do their share in
looking after the sick folk, and that David and Andy were to be Doctor
Joe's dog drivers when winter came.
"'Twill be fine to manage the dogs for you, sir!" exclaimed David,
turning to Doctor Joe.
"Wonderful fine!" echoed Andy.
"And will you be goin' outside the Bay?" asked David.
"Aye, outside the Bay and in it, wherever there's need to go," said
Doctor Joe.
"'Twill be tryin' and hard work sometimes," suggested Thomas,
"travellin' when the weather's nasty, but I'm not doubtin' the lads'll
be able t' manage un."
"We'll manage un!" David declared with pride in the confidence placed
in him and Andy.
To drive dogs on these sub-arctic trails in fair weather and foul
calls for courage and grit, and the lads felt justly proud of the
responsibility that had been laid upon them. There would be many a
shift to make on the ice, they knew. There would be blinding blizzards
and withering arctic winds to face, and no end of hard work. But these
lads of The Labrador loved to stand upon their feet like men and face
and conquer the elements like hardy men of courage. This is the way of
boys the world over--eager for the time when they may assume the
responsibility of manhood. Such a time comes earlier to the lads of
The Labrador than with us. In that stern land there is no idling and
there are no holidays, and every one, the lad as well as his father,
must always do his part, which is his best.
Fort Pelican, the nearest port at which the mail boat called, was
seventy miles eastward from The Jug. With the uncertainty of wind and
tide the boat journey to Fort Pelican usually consumed three days, and
with equal time required for return, the voyage could seldom be
accomplished in less than six days. Lem Horn and his family lived at
Horn's Bight, thirty miles from The Jug, and fifteen miles beyond, at
Caribou Arm, was Jerry Snook's cabin. Save an Eskimo settlement of
half a dozen huts near Fort Pelican and the families of Lem Horn and
Jerry Snook, the country lying between The Jug and Fort Pelican was
uninhabited. It was unlikely that evening would find the travellers in
the vicinity of either Horn's or Snook's cabins, and therefore it was
to be a camping trip, which was quite to the liking of the boys.
The boys washed the old fishing boat and packed the equipment and
provisions for the voyage. Margaret baked three big loaves of white
bread, and as a special treat a loaf of plum bread. The remaining
provisions consisted of tea, a bottle of molasses for sweetening,
flour, baking-powder, fat salt pork, lard, margarine, salt and pepper.
The equipment included a frying-pan, a basin for mixing dough, a tin
kettle for tea, a larger kettle to be used in cooking, one large
cooking spoon, four teaspoons and some tin plates. Each of the boys as
well as Doctor Joe was provided with a sheath knife carried on the
belt. The sheath knife serves the professional hunter as a cooking
knife, as well as for eating and general purposes.
For camping use there was a cotton wedge tent, a small sheet-iron tent
stove, three camp axes, some candles and matches, a file for
sharpening the axes and a sleeping-bag for each. Men in that land do
not travel without arms, and it was decided that David should take a
carbine and Andy and Doctor Joe each a double-barrel shotgun, for
there might be an opportunity to shoot a fat goose or duck.
Thomas's big boat had two light masts rigged with leg-o'-mutton sails.
Just forward of the foremast David and Andy placed some flat stones,
and covering them with two or three inches of gravel set the tent
stove upon the gravel. Here they could cook their meals at midday, and
the gravel would protect the bottom of the boat from heat. A
sufficient quantity of fire-wood was taken aboard, and the provisions
and other equipment stowed under a short deck forward where the things
would be protected from storm and all would be in readiness for an
early start in the morning.