THE SAND-BANK--DISMAL PROSPECTS--CONSULTATIONS--INTERNAL ARRANGEMENTS
EXPOSED AND DETAILED.
Of all the changes that constantly vary the face of nature, the calm
that succeeds a storm is one of the most beautiful, and the most
agreeable, perhaps, to the feelings of man. Few conditions of nature
convey to the mind more thoroughly the idea of complete repose--of deep
rest after mortal strife, of sleep after exhausting toil; and those who
have passed through the violence of the storm and done battle with its
dangers are, by the physical rest which they enjoy after it is over, the
more fitted to appreciate and sympathise with the repose which reigns
around them.
When the sun rose, on the morning after the storm, it shone upon a scene
so calm and beautiful, so utterly unconnected with anything like the sin
of a fallen world, and so typical, in its deep tranquillity, of the mind
of Him who created it, that it seemed almost possible for a moment to
fancy that the promised land was gained at last, and that all the dark
clouds, the storms and dangers, the weary journeyings and the troubles
of the wilderness, were past and gone for ever. So glorious was the
scene that when Edith, rising from her rude couch and stepping over the
prostrate forms of her still slumbering companions, issued from the
shelter of the canoe and cast her eyes abroad upon the glassy sea, she
could not restrain her feelings, and uttered a thrilling shout of joy
that floated over the waters and reverberated among the glittering crags
of the surrounding icebergs.
The island on which the travellers had been cast was a mere knoll of
sand, not more than a few hundred yards in circumference, that scarcely
raised its rounded summit above the level of the water, and at full tide
was reduced to a mere speck, utterly destitute of vegetation. The sea
around it was now smooth and clear as glass, though undulated by a long,
regular swell, which rolled, at slow, solemn intervals, in majestic
waves towards the sand-bank, where they hovered for a moment in curved
walls of dark-green water, then, lipping over, at their crests, fell in
a roar of foam that hissed a deep sigh on the pebbles of the beach, and
left the silence greater than before. Masses of ice floated here and
there on the surface of the deep, the edges and fantastic points of
which were tipped with light. Not far from the northern extremity of
the sand-bank a large iceberg had grounded, from the sides of which
several pinnacles had been hurled by the shock and now lay stranded on
the beach.
The shout with which Edith had welcomed the morning roused the whole
party, and in a few minutes they were all assembled outside of their
little hut, some admiring the scene, others--of a less enthusiastic and
more practical turn--examining the circumstances of their position, and
considering the best course that should be pursued in their difficulty.
Mr Stanley, Dick Prince, and Massan, as was their wont, held a council
upon the existing state of things, and after much gazing round at the
sea and up at the sky, and considerable grunting of his deep voice and
rubbing of his capacious chin, on the part of the latter, he turned to
Dick Prince, as if appealing to his superior sagacity, and said--
"Well, ye see, my 'pinion's jist this: yonder's the mainland there"
(pointing to the eastward, where, about ten miles distant, the rocks and
trees were seen distorted and faintly looming through a tremulous haze),
"an' there's our canoes _there_" (jerking his thumb over his shoulder in
the direction of the large canoes, whose torn sides and damaged ribs, as
they lay exposed on the sand, bore sad testimony to the violence of the
previous night's storm), "and there's the little canoe yonder,"
(glancing towards the craft in question, which lay on the beach a
hopelessly-destroyed mass of splinters and shreds of bark that projected
and bristled in all directions, as in uncontrollable amazement at the
suddenness and entirety of its own destruction). "Now, that bein' the
case, an' the baggage all wet, an' the day parfitly beautiful, an' the
sun about hot enough to bile the sea, we can't do better nor stay where
we are, an' mend the canoes, dry the goods, an' start fair to-morrow
mornin'."
Stanley looked at Prince, as if expecting a remark from him; but the
grave countenance of the silent bowman indicated that he was absorbed in
contemplation.
"'Tis quite evident, Massan," said Stanley, "that we must repair the
canoes; but a few hours could do that, and I don't like the idea of
staying another night on a strip of sand like this, which, I verily
believe, another stiff nor'-wester would blow away altogether.--But what
say you, Prince? Do you advise our remaining?"
"Yes," replied Dick, "I do. Ye see there's no fear of another storm
soon. 'Tis a good chance for dryin' the goods, so I vote for stoppin'."
"Well, then, we shall stay," replied Stanley. "To say truth, I agreed
with you at first, Massan, but it's always advisable to look at both
sides of a question--"
"Yes, and `in the multitude of counsellors there is wisdom,'" said Frank
Morton, coming up at the moment, and tapping his friend on the shoulder.
"If you will include me in your confabulation, you shall have the
benefit of deep experience and far-sighted sagacity."
"Come, then, Master Frank," replied Stanley, "what does your sagacity
advise on the point of our staying on this sandbank? Shall we spend
another night on it in order to dry the goods, or shall we up and away
to _terra firma_ as soon as the canoes are seaworthy?"
"Stay, of course," said Frank. "As to the sand-bank, 'tis firm enough,
to my mind, after resisting the shock of the wave that dashed me ashore
last night. Then we have everything we need--shelter and food, and even
fuel." As Frank mentioned the last word, he glanced round with a rueful
countenance and pointed to the bark and timbers of his broken canoe.
"True, Frank, we have wherewith to boil the kettle, and as the
water-cask was full when we started yesterday morning, there will be
enough at least for one or two days."
"By the way, that reminds me that Eda and your wife are particularly
desirous of having breakfast," said Frank. "In fact they sent me
specially to lay their melancholy case before you; and I have great
fears that Eda will lay violent hands on the raw pork if her morning
meal is delayed much longer. As for Chimo, he is rushing about the
island in a state of ravenous despair; so pray let us be going."
"Be it so, Frank," said Stanley, taking his friend's arm, and sauntering
towards the canoe, while Massan and Prince went to inform their comrades
of the determination of their leader.
In an hour after the above discourse breakfast was over, and the men,
under Stanley's inspection, arranged and examined the baggage, which,
considering that it had been rolled about by the surf for a considerable
time, was not so much soaked as might have been expected. The two kegs
of gunpowder were first inspected, being the most valuable part of the
cargo, as on them depended much of their future livelihood. They were
found to be quite dry, except a small portion of powder at the seams of
the staves, which, having caked with the moisture, had saved the rest
from damage. Some of the bales, however, containing knives and other
hardware, were very wet, and had to be opened out and their contents
wiped and spread out to dry. Blankets, too, and other woollen garments
that had suffered, were also spread out on the sand, so that in a short
time the little island was quite covered with a strange assortment of
miscellaneous articles, that gave to it the appearance of a crowded
store. The entire wealth of the fur-traders was now exposed to view,
and it may perhaps be interesting to enumerate the different articles,
in order to give some idea of the outfit deemed necessary on such an
expedition.
And, first, there were two kegs of gunpowder, as before mentioned,
containing each thirty pounds, with four bags of ball and three of shot
of various sizes--in all, about 250 pounds of lead. Six nets of four
and a half inch mesh. A large quantity of twine for making nets--most
of the men being able to construct these useful articles. A small bag
of gun-flints. Sixty pounds of roll tobacco. Twelve large axes. Six
augers. Seven dozen scalping-knives. Six pounds of variously-coloured
beads. Two dozen fire-steels, and a pretty large assortment of awls,
needles, thread, nails, and such like small articles, which, though
extremely useful, were too numerous and comparatively insignificant to
mention in detail. Besides these, there was a small bale containing
gaudy ornaments and attractive articles, which were intended as
propitiatory presents to the Esquimaux when they should be met with.
Then there were two runlets of salt pork, containing about ninety pounds
each, and in the centre of each runlet were two hams. A barrel of flour
and a barrel of oatmeal constituted all their provision, if we except a
small cask of hard biscuit, and a little tea and sugar, which were the
private property of Stanley and Frank Morton. There was also a large
deerskin tent, capable of holding from twenty to thirty men, which was
intended to be used while they were engaged in building their winter
residence at Ungava. As to arms, each man had one of the long
single-barrelled fowling-pieces that are supplied by the Fur Company to
the natives, and are styled Indian guns. Stanley had a double-barrelled
flint fowling-piece; and Frank had a rifle, besides a single gun of a
description somewhat finer than that supplied to the Indians. Of course
each man carried a scalping-knife and an axe in his belt, not for the
purpose of self-defence, but for carving their food and cutting their
fuel.
It may be well to remark here that the goods and provisions which we
have detailed above were merely intended as a supply for their immediate
necessities, and to enable them to commence active operations at once on
arriving at their destination, while the heavy stores and goods
necessary for the year's trade were to be forwarded in a small sloop
from the depot direct through Hudson's Straits to Ungava Bay.
When the work of unpacking and exposing the things to dry in the sun was
accomplished, it was long past noon, and high time for dinner; so a fire
was lighted by Bryan, who cut up another portion of Frank's canoe for
the purpose. A rasher of pork and a flour cake were disposed of by each
of the party in a surprisingly short time, and then the men bestirred
themselves in mending the canoes. This was a more troublesome job than
they expected, but being accustomed not only to mend but to make canoes,
they worked with a degree of skill and diligence that speedily put all
to rights. In Massan's canoe there was a hole large enough, as Bryan
remarked, to stick his head through, though it was a "big wan, an' no
mistake." Taking up a roll of bark, which was carried with them for the
purpose, Massan cut from it a square patch, which he _sewed_ over the
hole, using an awl for a needle and the fibrous roots of the pine tree,
called wattape, for thread. After it was firmly sewed on, the seams
were covered with melted gum, and the broken spot was as tight and
strong as ever. There were next found several long slits, one of them
fully three feet, which were more easily managed, as they merely
required to be sewed and covered with gum. Several broken ribs,
however, were not so easily repaired. Had there been any wood on the
island, Massan's quick knife would have soon fashioned new ribs; as it
was, he had to make the best job he could, by splicing the old ones with
several pieces abstracted from Frank's little canoe.
It was sunset before all was put in complete order, the goods repacked,
and placed in readiness for a start at daybreak on the following
morning. After all was done, the remains of the small canoe were
converted into a bonfire, round which the tired and hungry travellers
assembled to smoke and chat, while supper was being prepared by the
indefatigable Bryan and his friend La Roche. As the day faded away the
stars came out, one by one, until they glittered in millions in the sky,
while the glare of the fire became every moment more and more intense as
the darkness deepened. It was a strange, wild scene,--especially when
viewed from the extremity of the little sand-bank, which was so low as
to be almost indiscernible in the dark night, and seemed scarce a
sufficient foundation for the little busy group of human beings who
stood radiant in the red light of their camp-fire, like a blazing gem
cast upon the surface of the great, cold sea.