BUSTLE AND BUSINESS--A GREAT FEAST, IN WHICH BRYAN AND LA ROCHE ARE
PRIME MOVERS--NEW IDEAS IN THE ART OF COOKING.
The scene at Fort Chimo was more bustling and active than ever during
the week that followed the arrival of the schooner. The captain told
Stanley, as they sat sipping a glass of Madeira in the hall of the new
fort, that he had been delayed by ice in the straits so long, that the
men were afraid of being set fast for the winter, and were almost in a
state of mutiny, when they fortunately discovered the mouth of the
river. As had been anticipated by Stanley, the ship entered False River
by mistake, unseen by Oolibuck, notwithstanding the vigilance of his
lookout. Fortunately he observed it as it came out of the river, just
at the critical period when the seamen began to threaten to take the law
into their own hands if the search were continued any longer. Oolibuck
no sooner beheld the object of his hopes than he rushed to the top of a
hill, where he made a fire and sent up a column of smoke that had the
immediate effect of turning the vessel's head towards him. Soon
afterwards a boat was sent ashore, and took the Esquimau on board, who
explained, in his broken English, that he had been watching for them for
many days, and would be happy to pilot the vessel up to the fort.
"You may be sure," continued the captain, "that I was too happy to give
the ship in charge to the fellow, who seemed to understand thoroughly
what he was about. He is already quite a favourite with the men, who
call him Oily-buss, much to his own amusement; and he has excited their
admiration and respect by his shooting, having twice on the way up shot
a goose on the wing."
"Not an unusual exhibition of skill among fur-traders," said Stanley;
"but I suppose your men are not much used to the gun. And now, captain,
when must you start?"
"The moment the cargo is landed, sir," replied the captain, who was
distinguished by that thorough self-sufficiency and prompt energy of
character which seem peculiar to sea-captains in general. "We may have
trouble in getting out of the straits, and, after getting to Quebec, I
am bound to carry a cargo of timber to England."
"I will do my best to help you, captain. Your coming has relieved my
mind from a load of anxiety, and one good turn deserves another, so I'll
make my fellows work night and day till your ship is discharged."
Stanley was true to his word. Not only did the men work almost without
intermission, but he and Frank Morton scarce allowed themselves an
hour's repose during the time that the work was going on. Night and day
"yo heave ho" of the Jack Tars rang over the water; and the party on
shore ran to and fro, from the beach to the store, with bales, kegs,
barrels, and boxes on their shoulders. There were blankets and guns,
and axes and knives, powder and shot, and beads and awls, and nets and
twine. There were kettles of every sort and size; cloth of every hue;
capotes of all dimensions, and minute etceteras without end: so that,
had it been possible to prevail on the spirits of the ice to carry to
the Esquimaux intelligence of the riches contained in the store at
Chimo, an overwhelming flood of visitors would speedily have descended
on that establishment. But no such messengers could be found--although
Bryan asserted positively that more than "wan o' them" had been seen by
him since his arrival; so the traders had nothing for it but to summon
patience to their aid and bide their time.
When the work of discharging was completed, and while Stanley and the
captain were standing on the beach watching the removal of the last
boat-load to the store, the former said to the latter: "Now, captain, I
have a favour to request, which is that you and your two mates will dine
with me to-morrow. Your men will be the better of a day's rest after
such a long spell of hard work. You could not well get away till the
evening of to-morrow at any rate, on account of the tide, and it will be
safer and more pleasant to start early on the day after."
"I shall be most happy," replied the captain heartily.
"That's right," said Stanley. "Dinner will be ready by four o'clock
precisely; and give my compliments to your crew, and say that my men
will expect them all to dinner at the same hour."
Ten minutes after this, Stanley entered his private apartment in the
fort, which, under the tasteful management of his wife, was beginning to
look elegant and comfortable.
"Wife," said he, "I will order La Roche to send you a box of raisins and
an unlimited supply of flour, butter, etcetera, wherewith you will be so
kind as to make, or cause to be made--on pain of my utmost displeasure
in the event of failure--a plum-pudding large enough to fill the largest
sized washing-tub, and another of about quarter that size; both to be
ready boiled by four to-morrow afternoon."
"Sir, your commands shall be obeyed. I suppose you intend to regale the
sailors before they leave. Is it not so?"
"You have guessed rightly for once; and take care that you don't let Eda
drown herself in the compost before it is tied up. I must hasten to
prepare the men."
Two minutes later and Stanley stood in the midst of his men, who, having
finished their day's work, were now busy with supper in their new house,
into which they had but recently moved.
"Lads," said Stanley, "you have stuck to your work so hard of late that
I think it a pity to allow you to fall into lazy habits again. I expect
you all to be up by break of day to-morrow."
"Och! musha!" sighed Bryan, as he laid down his knife and fork with a
look of consternation.
"I have invited the ship's crew," continued Stanley, "to dine with you
before they leave us. As the larder is low just now, you'll all have to
take to the hills for a fresh supply. Make your arrangements as you
please, but see that there is no lack of venison and fish. I'll
guarantee the pudding and grog."
So saying, he turned and left the house, followed by a tremendous cheer.
"Oh! parbleu! vat shall I do?" said La Roche, with a look of affected
despair. "I am most dead for vant of sleep already. C'est impossible
to cook pour everybody demain. I vill be sure to fall 'sleep over de
fire, prehaps fall into him."
"Och, Losh, Losh, when will ye larn to think nothin' o' yoursilf? Ye'll
only have to cook for the bourgeois; but think o' me! All the min, an'
the ship's crew to boot!"
The blacksmith concluded by knocking La Roche's pipe out of his mouth,
in the excess of his glee at the prospective feast; after which he
begged his pardon solemnly in bad French, and ducked his head to avoid
the tin can that was hurled at it by the indignant Frenchman.
At the first streak of dawn the following morning, and long before the
sun looked down into the ravines of Ungava, Massan and Dick Prince were
seen to issue with noiseless steps from the fort, with their guns on
their shoulders, and betake themselves to the mountains. Half an hour
later Bryan staggered out of the house, with a bag on his shoulder,
scarcely half awake, rubbing his eyes and muttering to himself in a low
tone, as he plunged rather than walked into the ravine which led to the
first terrace on the mountain.
When the sun rose over the mountain-tops and looked down upon the calm
surface of the river, there was not a man remaining in the fort, with
the exception of Stanley and Frank, and their active servant La Roche.
A deep calm rested on the whole scene. The sailors of the vessel,
having risen to dispatch breakfast, retired to their hammocks again and
went to sleep; Stanley, Frank, and their household, were busy within
doors; Chimo snored in the sunshine at the front of the fort; and the
schooner floated on a sheet of water so placid, that every spar and
delicate rope was clearly reflected. Nothing was heard save the soft
ripple on the shore, the distant murmur of mountain streams, and, once
or twice through the day, the faint reverberation of a fowling-piece.
But as the day advanced, evidences of the approaching feast began to be
apparent. Early in the forenoon Massan and Prince returned with heavy
loads of venison on their shoulders, and an hour later Bryan staggered
into the fort bending under the weight of a well-filled bag of fish. He
had been at his favourite fishing quarters in the dark valley, and was
dripping wet from head to foot, having fallen, as usual, into the water.
Bryan had a happy facility in falling into the water that was quite
unaccountable--and rather enviable in warm weather. As the cooking
operations were conducted on an extensive scale, a fire was kindled in
the open air in the rear of the men's house; round which fire, in the
course of the forenoon, Bryan and La Roche performed feats of agility so
extravagant, and apparently so superhuman, that they seemed to involve
an element of wickedness from their very intensity. Of course no large
dinner ever passed through the ordeal of being cooked without some
accidents or misfortunes, more or less. Even in civilised life, where
the most intricate appliances are brought to bear on the operation by
_artistes_ thoroughly acquainted with their profession, infallibility is
not found. It would be unjust, therefore, to expect that two
backwoodsmen should be perfectly successful, especially when it is
remembered that their branch of the noble science was what might be
technically termed plain cookery, the present being their first attempt
in the higher branches.
Their first difficulty arose from the larger of the two plum-puddings,
which La Roche had compounded under the directions of Mrs Stanley and
the superintendence of Edith.
"I say, Losh," cried Bryan to his companion, whose head was at the
moment hid from view in a cloud of steam that ascended from a large pot
over which he bent, apparently muttering incantations.
"Vell, fat you want?"
"Faix, and it's just _fat_ that I don't want," said Bryan, pointing, as
he spoke, to the large pudding, which, being much too large for the
kettle, was standing on the rim thereof like the white ball of foam that
caps a tankard of double X. "It's more nor twice too fat already. The
kittle won't hould it, no how."
"Oh, stuff him down, dat is de way," suggested La Roche.
"Stuff it down, avic, an' what's to come o' the wather?" said Bryan.
"Ah! true, dat is perplexible, vraiment."
At this moment the large pot boiled over and a cloud of scalding steam
engulfed the sympathetic Frenchman, causing him to yell with mingled
pain and rage as he bounded backwards.
"Musha! but ye'll come to an early death, Losh, if ye don't be more
careful o' yer dried-up body."
"Taisez vous, donc," muttered his companion, half angrily.
"Taisin' ye? avic, sorra wan o' me's taisin' ye. But since ye can't
help me out o' me throubles, I'll try to help mysilf."
In pursuance of this noble resolve, Bryan went to the store and fetched
from thence another large tin kettle. He then undid the covering of the
unwieldy pudding, which he cut into two equal parts, and having squeezed
them into two balls, tied them up in the cloth, which he divided for the
purpose, and put them into the separate kettles, with the air of a man
who had overcome a great difficulty by dint of unfathomable wisdom. It
was found, however, that the smaller pudding, intended for Stanley's
table, was also too large for its kettle; but the energetic blacksmith,
whose genius was now thoroughly aroused, overcame this difficulty by
cutting off several pounds of it, and transferring the pudding thus
reduced to the kettle, saying in an undertone as he did so, "There's
more nor enough for the six o' ye yit, av yer only raisonable in yer
appetites."
But the superfluity of the pudding thus caused became now a new source
of trouble to Bryan.
"What's to be done wid it, Losh? I don't like to give it to the dogs,
an' it's too small intirely to make a dumplin' of."
"You better heat him raw," suggested La Roche.
"Faix, an' I've half a mind to; but it would spile my dinner. Hallo!
look out for the vainison, Losh."
"Ah, oui; oh! misere!" cried La Roche, springing over the fire, and
giving a turn to the splendid haunch of venison which depended from a
wooden tripod in front of the blaze, and, having been neglected for a
few minutes, was beginning to singe.
"What have ye in the pot there?" inquired Bryan.
"Von goose, two duck, trois plovre, et von leetle bird--I not know de
name of--put him in pour experiment."
"Very good, Losh; out wid the goose and we'll cram the bit o' dumplin'
into him for stuffin'."
"Ah! superb, excellent," cried La Roche, laughing, as he lifted out the
goose, into which Bryan thrust the mass of superfluous pudding; after
which the hole was tied up and the bird re-consigned to the pot.
Everything connected with this dinner was strikingly suggestive of the
circumstances under which it was given. The superabundance of venison
and wild-fowl; the cooking done in the open air; the absence of women,
and the performance of work usually allotted to them by bronzed and
stalwart voyageurs; the wild scenery in the midst of which it took
place; and the mixture of Irish, English, French, Indian, Esquimau, and
compound tones, that fell upon the ear as the busy work went on,--all
tended to fill the mind with a feeling of wild romance, and to suggest
powerfully the idea of being, if we may so express it, _far, far away_!
As the proceedings advanced towards completion, this feeling was rather
increased than removed.
Tables and chairs were a luxury that still remained to be introduced at
Fort Chimo, when the men found leisure from more urgent duties to
construct them. Therefore the dining-table in Stanley's hall was
composed of three large packing-cases turned bottom up. There was no
cloth wherewith to cover its rough boards; but this was a matter of
little importance to the company which assembled round it, punctually at
the hour of four. In place of chairs there were good substantial
nail-kegs, rather low, it is true, and uncommonly hard, but not to be
despised under the circumstances. Owing to the unusual demand for
dishes, the pewter plates and spoons and tin drinking-cups--for they had
little crockery--were of every form and size that the store contained;
and the floor on which it all stood was the beaten ground, for the
intended plank flooring was still growing in the mountain glens.
But if the equipage was homely and rude, the fare was choice and
abundant; and an odour that might have gladdened the heart of an epicure
greeted the nostrils of the captain and his two mates when they entered
the hall, dressed in blue surtouts with bright brass buttons, white duck
trousers, and richly flowered vests [waistcoats]. There was a splendid
salmon, of twenty pounds weight, at one end of the board; and beside it,
on the same dish, a lake-trout of equal size and beauty. At the other
end smoked a haunch of venison, covered with at least an inch of fat;
and beside it a bowl of excellent cranberry jam, the handiwork of the
hostess. A boiled goose and pease-pudding completed the catalogue.
Afterwards, these gave place to the pudding which had caused Bryan so
much perplexity, and several dishes of raisins and figs. Last, but not
least, there was a bottle of brandy and two of port wine; which, along
with the raisins and figs, formed part of the limited supply of luxuries
furnished by the Hudson's Bay Company to Stanley, in common with all the
gentlemen in the service, in order to enable them, now and then, on
great occasions, to recall, through the medium of a feast, the
remembrance of civilised life.
The display in the men's house was precisely similar to that in the
hall. But the table was larger and the viands more abundant. The
raisins and figs, too, were wanting; and instead of wine or brandy,
there was a small supply of rum. It was necessarily small, being the
gift of Stanley out of his own diminutive store, which could not, even
if desired, be replenished until the return of the ship next autumn.
On the arrival of the guests a strange contrast was presented. The
sailors, in white ducks, blue jackets with brass buttons, striped
shirts, pumps, and straw hats, landed at the appointed hour, and in
hearty good-humour swaggered towards the men's house, where they were
politely received by the quiet, manly-looking voyageurs, who, in honour
of the occasion, had put on their best capotes, their brightest belts,
their gayest garters, and most highly-ornamented moccasins. The French
Canadians and half-breeds bowed, shook hands, and addressed the tars as
_messieurs_. The sailors laughed, slapped their entertainers on the
shoulders, and called them messmates. The Indians stood, grave and
silent, but with looks of good-humour, in the background; while the
Esquimaux raised their fat cheeks, totally shut up their eyes, and
grinned perpetually, not to say horribly, from ear to ear. But the
babel that followed is beyond the powers of description, therefore we
won't attempt it.
Here, however, the characteristic peculiarity of our scene ceases. The
actual demolition of food is pretty much the same among all nations that
are not absolutely savage; and, however much contrast might have been
observed in the strange mixture of human beings assembled under the
hospitable roof of Fort Chimo, there was none whatever in the manner in
which they demolished their viands. As the evening advanced, a message
was sent to Monsieur Stanley for the loan of his violin.
"Ay," said he, as the instrument was delivered to Bryan, who happened to
be the messenger and also the performer--"ay, I thought it would come to
that ere long. Don't be too hard on the strings, lad. 'Twill be a
rough ball where there are no women."
"Thrue, yer honour," replied the blacksmith, as he received the
instrument, "there's a great want of faymales in thim parts; but the
sailors have consinted to ripresint the purty craytures on the present
occasion, which is but right, for, ye see, the most o' thim's shorter
nor us, an' their wide breeches are more like the pitticoats than our
leggin's."
Many were the stories that were told and retold, believed, disbelieved,
and doubted, on that memorable night; and loud were the songs and long
and strong the dancing that followed. But it was all achieved under the
influence of pure animal spirits, for the rum supplied afforded but a
thimbleful to each. The consequence was that there were no headaches
the following morning, and the men were up by break of day as fresh and
light as larks. A feeling of sadness, however, gradually crept over the
band as the dawn advanced and the schooner prepared for her departure.
By six o'clock the flood-tide turned, and a few minutes later all the
sailors were aboard, hoisting the sails and anchor, while the men stood
silently on the beach where they had just parted from their guests.
"Good-bye once more, Mr Stanley; good-bye, Mr Morton," said the
captain, as he stepped into his boat. "I wish you a pleasant winter and
a good trade."
"Thank you, thank you, captain," replied Stanley; "and don't forget us
out here, in this lonely place, when you drink the health of absent
friends at Christmas time."
In a few minutes the anchor was up, and the schooner, bending round with
a fair wind and tide, made for the narrows.
"Give them a cheer, lads," said Frank.
Obedient to the command, the men doffed their caps and raised their
voices; but there was little vigour in the cheer. It was replied to
from the schooner's deck. Just as the flying-jib passed the point a gun
was fired, which once more awakened the loud echoes of the place. When
the smoke cleared away, the schooner was gone.
Thus was severed the last link that bound the civilised world to the
inhabitants of Fort Chimo.