GRIM HOWLS.
It was an inhospitable shore, seen through the shreds of mist that
were driving in on us, but never was a heartier prayer of thanks sent
up than that which rose from the "Lass" when the news had spread.
The wind was falling and a fog setting in, so that we were long in
making the shore, which seemed deserted. Not a curl of smoke went
upward from all its length.
Ruth and I stood on the poop, hand in hand, watching that
long-desired shore until the fog had thickened and the wind dropped.
At this Radisson ordered the anchor put out, and I perforce assisted
at the task. When I returned to Ruth she was staring over the rail
strangely.
"Davie," she asked in a low voice, "does it not seem to you that the
ship is lower in the water this morning?"
"I had not seen it," I replied carelessly. As I looked overside with
her my heart leaped up, for in truth the ship was sitting low. I
knew that the leak had gained on us, but evidently it was nothing
serious, for the men had made no outcry about it.
However, I had scant time to reassure Ruth, for presently Radisson
approached us. Grim tagged at his heels, for since my father's
illness the dog had taken to following the old man around.
"Davie," he said, "pick out what men can row and get the longboat
over. We must make a camp here and relieve the worst cases among the
sick, then we can go on to Albany, which I take to be the nearest
post."
Save for scattered cakes, the bay was free enough of ice, but the fog
now had almost hid the shore from sight. Only three of the crew were
able to row--Black Michael, Gib and the sailor Eoghan. That made the
four of us, however, and we made shift to get the longboat over the
side, by the help of Radisson and Ruth. It was a sad and terrible
sight, to watch those others, who had been strong men all, lying
about the decks or gazing on us with a wild stare of hope.
When the boat was over, we began lading her as our captain ordered
us, with canvas, stores, powder, fusils and a host of other things.
"We will set out a camp," declared Radisson, when at length the boat
was laden to the gunwales. "Then the sick will go on shore while I
gather herbs and green things which I know well. With these, we will
be enabled to overcome the scurvy in a few days, I trust."
What might have passed for a feeble cheer went up from the pathetic
group above us, but even as Radisson leaped down into the boat,
Eoghan went forward over his oar with a single groan. I tried to
pull him up, but the poor fellow could not move. The scurvy had
taken hold on him of a sudden, and he muttered that his joints were
aflame. Radisson would have taken his place, but with a flash Ruth
was over the rail and had pushed him away.
"I can row as well as you," she laughed. "Save your strength, sir!
Yours is of more worth to us than is mine."
"Aye, let the lassie go!" And with amazement I beheld my father
clinging to the rail above and staring down with ghastly eyes. "God
speed your errand and give you His blessing!" Methought he spoke
more to me than Radisson, and later this reflection has comforted me,
for this was the last word I ever had with my father Fergus.
So Radisson nodded to Ruth and we pushed away from the ship. Then
for the first time I noticed that Grim had followed us into the boat
and was crouched in the stern beside the old white-haired wanderer.
Over us gathered the other dogs, and the last token we had as we
pulled away into the fog was the full-throated bark of Tam Graham's
Sandy.
There was no wind and the fog lay thick and wet about us. Ahead rose
the gray line of the shore, grim enough for all its touch of green.
As I looked back at the ship I realized more than ever the truth
behind those words of Homer, beaten into my head by my father--"Let
us go up the sounding seas!" For the water seemed to rise behind
until they met and blended with the gray wall of mist above; and in
the midst, dim and ghostly, hung the "Lass o' Dee." That picture
clung long in my memory--that, and the brown shoulders of Gib o'
Clarclach rising and falling before me on the after-thwart.
Presently Radisson cried to us to cease rowing, and I glanced over my
shoulder to see a line of black rocks a few yards away. Black
Michael, in the bow, fended us in and sprang ashore with a shout of
rejoicing which we all echoed as we followed him, even Grim catching
the enthusiasm and giving vent to a series of loud barks.
Bleak rocks lay before and about us, interspersed with small trees
and bushes. To one side a little cascading brook trickled down over
the rocks into the sea with a quiet murmur. But there was no sign of
human life within our limited range of vision.
We were all chilled to the bone by that heavy, dank fog, which by now
had closed in thicker than ever, so that when Radisson said he would
start a fire we began unloading the boat with alacrity. He
disappeared into the bushes, soon emerging with an armful of sticks
and bark. By means of my flint and steel we soon had a fire blazing,
dragged poor Eoghan up from the boat, and clustered joyfully about
the warmth.
"David," said Radisson after a little, "do you and your sister come
with me. We must see to curing this scurvy, which I fear is getting
into my old bones at last."
Catching Ruth's hand I pulled her up with a laugh and we left Black
Michael and Gib staring at us dully, across the half-senseless body
of Eoghan.
"Wait, lad," Radisson pointed to a clump of bushes. "Do you stop
here within sight of the camp. In this fog it were an easy matter to
get lost beyond repair. Call to us every few moments and pluck all
these leaves you can carry. Chew some of them well, while Ruth and I
go on after others."
I fell to work on the bushes, cramming my mouth full of the leaves
and stuffing my pockets with them. I did not neglect to call out
frequently, Ruth's silvery voice rising clearly in response.
Meanwhile I carried some of the leaves to the men in camp, and much
to my surprise saw Gib o' Clarclach just giving some to Black
Michael, so I merely thrust a few into Eoghan's mouth and bade him
chew for his life. It was plain that Gib had small need of
Radisson's services in this land.
In no great while Ruth and the old man rejoined us, laden down with
roots and leaves of divers shapes. These we bruised between stones
and with them filled a kettle which had been fetched from the ship.
To this was put water, and the kettle was then set over the fire.
"Now," ordered Radisson, "do you stay here, Mistress Ruth, while we
go fetch a load of the sick. Keep this brew simmering, so it may be
ready on our return."
We stepped toward the boat, but Gib and Black Michael made no move to
arise. Radisson spoke to them sharply, whereat Gib growled sullenly
in French.
"Do the work yourself, an' you will! I be not going to budge from
solid earth for you or--"
He got no farther, for Radisson took one long step to his side, his
stern old face livid with sudden fury. Seizing the man by the
throat, he lifted him with one hand and dashed him back to the
ground, like as I have seen my father dash a spider from him.
"Obey me, you dog! Get to the boat, both of you, lest I forget
myself!"
Coming from the old man of seventy, the words may seem ludicrous
enough; but there was that in his voice which brought the two men to
their feet without a word more. Sullenly they stepped into the boat
while Radisson watched them. Then he turned to me.
"In with you, Davie! We'll leave Ruth to take care of Eoghan."
"Willingly," she laughed gayly, then added more soberly, "You'll
bring father back in the first boat, Davie?"
"That we will, lass," I made hearty answer, and she watched us off,
her hand resting on Grim's head. The ship was hid from us in the
fog, but Radisson had her compass-bearing from the shore. Now there
happened a fearsome thing, a thing which has made my blood run chill
many a night since.
Just before the shore was closed from sight, I saw Grim lift his head
from Ruth's hand and utter one long howl. So mournful was that
voice, so terrible in the loneliness around, that it drew a curse
from Black Michael, and I shivered despite myself. And in this same
moment came another howl--but now from the fog ahead of us--a long
deep cry which I recognized for old Sandy's, and it was cut short in
the midst as by his master's hand. But Tam Graham was lying sick
between decks, as we well knew.
And with that I felt that something was wrong. I believe that we all
sensed it, for the others fell to their oars and Radisson's shaggy
white brows drew far down. Knowing Grim as I did, I was far more
fearful than the others; only once before had I heard such sound from
his throat, and that was on the day my mother died.
So as I pulled I cast glances over my shoulder, seeking the ship, and
sudden remembrance of Ruth's words that morning put haste into my
oar. My mind was full of its uneasy fear, and it was full five
minutes before I realized that we should have come to the ship ere
this. I could see naught of her in the fog, and when I looked to
Radisson I saw him studying his compass and peering about.
"Have we lost the 'Lass'?" I cried between strokes.
"Strange!" he muttered, frowning. "I had her bearings right enough,
but--"
Black Michael cried out in Gaelic that we were of a surety bewitched,
and for a moment my heart failed me and I stared at Radisson in
horror.
"Her cable was not strong," spoke up Gib, who had lost his surliness
of a sudden. "Mayhap it parted and sent her adrift."
"There is no wind to drift her," answered Radisson, perplexed. "Yet
we heard the dogs howl plain enough. What make you of it, Davie?"
"God knows!" I half sobbed, staring back over my shoulder in the
shuddering fog, that seemed to stifle us, so thick was it. An old
word came into my head, and out I blurted it. "Ill's the wind when
dogs howl."
At this Black Michael uttered a savage Gaelic oath that was half pure
fear, and paused on his oar. For a little we drifted thus, the
sullen seas heaving beneath us, driving us slowly up and down yet
giving us no sign of what lay beyond that curtain of gray. It was
uncanny, and I shivered again until my oar was all but lost.
"Give me that fusil," commanded Radisson. I took up the gun, which
was ready loaded, and passed it to him. Lifting it, he fired in the
air. There was no answer save a dull echo and the lap-lap of water
on our sides. Black Michael went gray with sheer fright.
"Strange," exclaimed Radisson again, and even his deep voice was
shaken. "What think you of it, Jean?"
I remembered later how then he turned to the man he hated above all
others, and I respected him the more for it. Gib, for it was he whom
Radisson addressed, leaned over and snatched something from the water.
"This, Sieur Radisson."
He held up a dripping object. We all stared at it, then I felt my
heart leap, and I uttered a cry of horror--for the thing was the
front cover of my father's Bible!