_The Ice Runs Red, and, in Storm and Dusk, Tim Tuttle
Brews a Pot o' Trouble for Captain Hand, While Billy
Topsail Observes the Operation_
MEANTIME the ship drew near the ice. When Archie came again on deck,
his nerves quite composed, she was being driven in and out through
the fields to a point as near to the first seal pack as she could be
taken--a mile distant, at the least. During this tedious search for
a landing place, the crew's eager excitement passed the bounds of
discipline. The men could see the crew from Alexander Bryan & Company's
_Lucky Star_ at work; and that excited them the more: they were mad to
reach the ice before their rivals could molest the pack for which they
were bound.
When, at last, the engines were stopped, a party of sixty was formed
in a haphazard fashion; the boats were lowered in haste, and the men
leaped and tumbled into them, crowding them down to the gunwales. In
one of the boats were Archie and Billy, the former in the care of Bill
o' Burnt Bay, to whom the "nursing" was not altogether agreeable,
under the circumstances; the latter in charge of himself, a lenient
guardian, but a wise one.
"Don't get into trouble with the crew o' the _Lucky Star_," had been
the captain's last command.
The men landed, hurrahing, and at once organized into half a dozen
separate expeditions. The direction to be taken by each was determined
by the leaders, and they set off at a dog trot upon their diverging
paths over the ice to the widely distributed seal pack. Meantime, the
boats were taken back to the ship and hoisted in; and the ship steamed
off to land another party on another field, thence to land the last
party near a third pack.
The boys trotted in Bill's wake. Two pennant bearers, carrying flags
to mark the heaps of "fat," as they should be formed, led the file.
One of these men--it happened by chance, to all appearances--was the
captain's enemy, Tim Tuttle. Their work was particularly important on
that day, with the crew of the _Lucky Star_ working so near at hand;
for the flags were to mark the ownership of the mounds of "fat," and
any tampering with these "brands" would be likely to precipitate a
violent encounter between the men of the rival ships.
"I'm thinkin' 'twill snow afore night," Bill panted, as they ran along;
and, indeed, it appeared that it would.
The advance soon had to be made with caution. The hunters were so near
the pack that the whines of the white coats could be heard. Archie
could make out not only the harps, but the blow-holes beside which they
lay in family groups. At this point the men formed in twos and threes,
and dispersed. In a few minutes more, they rushed upon the prey,
striking right and left.
The ice was soon strewn with dead seals. It was harvest time for these
impoverished Newfoundlanders. Lives of seals for lives of men and
women! Bill o' Burnt Bay had ten "kids" at home, and he was merciless
and mighty in destruction.
Archie and Billy came upon a family of four, lying at some distance
from their blow-hole--two grown harps, a "jar," which is a one year
old seal, and a ranger, which is three years old and spotted like a
leopard. Billy attacked the ranger without hesitation. Archie raised
his gaff above the fluffy little jar, which was fanning itself with its
flipper, and whining.
"I can't do it!" he exclaimed, lowering his club, and turning away,
faint at heart; then "Look, Billy!" he cried, in half amused wonderment.
The old seals had wriggled off to the blow-hole, moving upon their
flippers, in short jumps, as fast as a man could walk. Apparently they
had reached the hole at the same instant, which was not wide enough to
admit them both. Neither would give way to the other. They were stuck
fast, their heads below, their fat bodies above.
Their selfish haste was their undoing. Billy was not loath to take
advantage of their predicament.
Thus, everywhere, the men were at work. There was no friction with the
crew of the _Lucky Star_; the whole party worked amicably, and almost
side by side. When they had dispersed the pack, the "sculping" knives
were drawn, and the labour of skinning was vigorously prosecuted. The
skins, with the blubber adhering, were piled in heaps of six or more,
according to the strength of the men who were to "tow" them to the
edge of the field, where the ship was to return in the evening; and
every "tow" was marked with an Armstrong and Son flag.
The _Lucky Star's_ recall gun surprised the men before the work was
finished. They looked up to find that the dusk was upon them, and that
the snow was falling--falling ever more thickly, and drifting with the
wind. The men of the _Lucky Star_ stopped work, hurriedly saw to it
that their heaps of pelt were all marked, and started on a run for the
ship; for, on the ice fields, the command of the recall gun is never
disregarded.
"There goes the _Dictator's_ gun," shouted one of the men.
A second boom added force to the warning. The captain was evidently
anxious to have his men safe out of the storm; the "fat" could be taken
aboard in the morning. So Bill o' Burnt Bay, who was in tacit command
of the party, called his men about him, and led the return. It was
a mile over the ice to the _Dictator_, which lay waiting, with the
second and third parties aboard. He was in haste; moreover, he had Sir
Archibald Armstrong's son in his care: perhaps, that is why he did not
stop to count the _Dictator's_ heaps of pelt before he started.
"Come, now, Tuttle, don't lag!" he shouted, ambitious to have his party
return with no delay.
But Tuttle still lagged--or, rather, ran from heap to heap of pelt, as
though to make sure that each was marked. He busied himself, indeed,
until the party was well in advance--until, as he thought, there was no
eye to see what he did under cover of the driving snow. Then he quickly
snatched _Lucky Star_ flags from half a dozen heaps of "fat," cast them
away, and planted _Dictator_ flags in their stead--a dishonourable duty
which the house-flag of Armstrong & Son had never before been made to
do.
Quite sure, now, that he had shot an arrow that would sorely wound
Captain Hand and the firm of Armstrong & Son, Tuttle ran after his
party. When he was yet some distance behind, he turned about, and saw
a small figure following him. He stopped dead--and waited until that
small figure came up.
"Topsail," he demanded, "what you been doin' back there?"
Billy was very much frightened; but he was a truthful boy, and he now
told the truth. "Been sculpin' an' pilin' me swiles, sir," he stammered.
"Has you been touchin' them flags?"
"N-n-no, sir. I didn't have no time. I was afeared I'd get lost in the
snow."
Tuttle caught the boy by the shoulders, and stared fiercely into his
eyes. "Did you see what I done?" he demanded.
Billy was strongly tempted to choose the easier way; but, as I have
said, he was a truthful lad, and a brave lad, too. The temptation
passed in a moment, and he fearlessly returned Tuttle's stare.
"Yes, sir," he said.
"If you tells Cap'n Hand what you saw," said Tuttle, tightening his
grip, and bringing his face close to the lad's, "I'll----"
He did not complete the threat. Billy Topsail's imagination, as he
knew, would conceive the most terrible revenge.
"Yes, sir," Billy gasped, vacantly; for he was more frightened than he
had ever before been in his short life.
That was all. They ran at full speed after their party, and soon joined
it. Tuttle kept at Billy's side while they were getting aboard the
ship, kept at his side while supper was served in the forecastle, kept
at his side through the short evening; kept at his side all the time,
in a haunting, threatening way that frightened Billy as nothing else
could, until the lad, tired out and utterly discouraged as to the
purpose he had formed, turned in, no less to escape Tuttle, who had now
grown hateful to him, than to rest.
"Oh," he thought, "if Archie had on'y come t' the fo'c's'le this night,
I might 'a' told him; but now--I thinks--I'll be afeared, in the
mornin'."