Chimo's loud bark and the angry snarl of a large wolf, as it darted away
to seek the shelter of the kills, were the sounds that awoke our
travellers in the grey dawn of the following morning.
Frank started up, seized his gun, and darted through the doorway of the
igloo; in doing which he dashed the door of snow to atoms. He had only
the satisfaction, however, of seeing the wolf's tail flourish in the
air, as the animal bounded over a snow-drift and disappeared in a
ravine.
"Ha! how cold it is!" he exclaimed, re-entering the igloo hastily; far
having issued forth without his coat or cap, the two minutes during
which he stood exposed to the open air cooled him down nearly to the
freezing point. "Hallo, Maximus! jump up; light the lamp while I fill
the kettle. Heyday! it solidifies the very marrow in one's bones. Ho,
Edith! up with you, lazy thing; there has been a wolf to bid you
good-morrow."
While Frank rattled on thus he belted his leathern coat round him, put
on his fur cap, and prepared breakfast; while Edith rose and resumed the
cap and cloak which she had put off on lying down to rest.
"Maximus," said Frank, after the first duties of the day were concluded,
"we must now go and set the hooks; but as cutting holes in the ice will
occupy you some time, I'll take a short walk along the margin of the
lake with my gun. Be careful of Edith till I return."
So saying, Frank went off, taking Chimo along with him; while Maximus
seized the axe and ice-chisel, and began the laborious process of
digging through to the water. The ice on the lake was five feet thick,
but by dint of great perseverance the Esquimau succeeded in making
several holes through it ere Frank returned. Each hole was large enough
to contain the body of a man, but a little wider above than below. In
these holes were set stout cod-lines, with hooks of about half an inch
or more in diameter. They were made of white metal, and clumsy enough
to look at; but fish in the lakes of Ungava are not particular. These
hooks were baited with lumps of seal-fat, and ere half an hour elapsed
the success of the anglers was very decided and satisfactory.
Frank hauled up a white-fish of about six pounds weight at the first
dip, and scarcely had he thrown it on the ice when Maximus gave a
galvanic start, hauled up his line a few yards with laughable eagerness,
then stopped suddenly, under the impression, apparently, that it was a
false alarm; but another tug set him again in motion, and in three
seconds he pulled a fine lake-trout of about ten pounds weight out of
the hole. Edith, also, who had a line under her care, began to show
symptoms of expectation.
"Capital!" cried Frank, beating his hands violently against his
shoulders; for handling wet line, with the thermometer at twenty below
zero is decidedly cold work--"capital! we must set up a regular fishery
here, I think; the fish are swarming. There's another,--eh? no--he's
off--"
"Oh! oh!! oh!!!" shrieked Edith in mingled fear and excitement, as, at
each successive "oh!" she received a jerk that well-nigh pulled her into
the ice-hole.
"Hold hard!" cried Frank; "now then, haul away." Edith pulled, and so
did the fish; but as it was not more than five pounds weight or so, she
overcame it after a severe struggle, and landed a white-fish on the ice.
The next shout that Edith gave was of so very decided and thrilling a
character that Frank and Maximus darted to her side in alarm, and the
latter caught the line as it was torn violently from her grasp. For a
few minutes the Esquimau had to allow the line to run out, being unable
to hold the fish--at least without the risk of breaking his tackle; but
in a few seconds the motion of the line became less rapid, and Maximus
held on, while his huge body was jerked violently, notwithstanding his
weight and strength. Soon the line relaxed a little, and Maximus ran
away from the hole as fast as he could, drawing the line after him.
When the fish reached the hole it offered decided resistance to such
treatment; and being influenced, apparently, by the well-known proverb,
"Time about's fair play," it darted away in its turn, causing the
Esquimau to give it line again very rapidly.
"He must be an enormously big fellow," said Frank, as he and Edith stood
close to the hole watching the struggle with intense interest.
The Esquimau gave a broad grin.
"Yis, he most very biggest--hie!"
The cause of this exclamation of surprise was the slacking of the line
so suddenly that Maximus was induced to believe the fish had escaped.
"Him go be-off. Ho yis!"
But he was wrong. Another violent tug convinced him that the fish was
still captive--though an unwilling one--and the struggle was renewed.
In about a quarter of an hour Maximus dragged this refractory fish
slowly into the hole, and its snout appeared above water.
"Oh! _what_ a fish!" exclaimed Edith.
"Put in de spear," cried the Esquimau.
Frank caught up a native spear which Maximus had provided, and just as
the fish was about to recommence the struggle for its life, he
transfixed it through the gills, and pinned it to the side of the
ice-hole. The battle was over; a few seconds sufficed to drag the fish
from its native element and lay it at full length on the ice.
And few anglers have ever had the pleasure of beholding such a prize.
It was a trout of fully sixty pounds weight, and although such fish are
seldom if ever found in other parts of the world, they are by no means
uncommon in the lakes of North America.
Having secured this noble fish, Maximus cut it open and cleaned it,
after which it was left to freeze. The other fish were then similarly
treated; and while the Esquimau was thus engaged, Frank and Edith
continued their sport. But daylight in these far northern regions is
very short-lived in winter, and they were soon compelled unwillingly to
leave off.
"Now, Maximus," said Frank, as they rolled up their lines, "I don't
intend to keep you longer with us. Edith and I can manage the fishing
very well, so you may return to your friends at False River, and take
the seal-flesh for the dogs up to the fort. Get the loan of some of
their dogs and a sled to haul it; and come round this way in passing, so
as to pick up any fish we may have ready for you. The moon will be up
in a little, so be off as fast as you can."
In obedience to these orders, Maximus packed up a small quantity of
provisions, and bidding good-bye to his two friends, set off to make the
best of his way to the coast.
That night Frank and his little charge sat down to sup together in the
igloo at the head of their snow-table, and Chimo acted the part of
croupier in the room of the Esquimau. And a pleasant evening they
spent, chatting, and laughing, and telling stories, by the light of the
stone lamp, the mellow flame of which shed a warm influence over the
sparkling dome of snow. Before retiring to rest, Frank said that they
must be up with the first light, for he meant to have a hard day's
fishing; but man little knows what a day may bring forth. Neither Frank
nor Edith dreamed that night of the events that were to happen on the
morrow.
On awaking in the morning they were again roused by the voice of the
wolf which had visited them the day before. In order to catch this
wolf, Maximus had, just before starting, constructed a trap peculiar to
the Esquimaux. It was simply a hole dug down through the ice at the
edge of the lake, not far from the igloo. This hole was just wide
enough to admit the body of a wolf, and the depth sufficient to render
it absolutely impossible for the animal to thrust his snout to the
bottom, however long his neck might be. At the bottom a tempting piece
of blubber, in very _high_ condition, was placed. The result of this
ingenious arrangement was most successful, and, we may add, inevitable.
Attracted by the smell of the meat, our friend the wolf came trotting
down to the lake just about daybreak, and sneaked suspiciously up to the
trap. He peeped in and licked his lips with satisfaction at the
charming breakfast below. One would have thought, as he showed his
formidable white teeth, that he was laughing with delight. Then,
spreading out his fore legs so as to place his breast on the ice, he
thrust his head down into the hole and snapped at the coveted blubber.
But he had mistaken the depth, and blaming himself, no doubt, for his
stupidity, he slid a little further forward, and pushed his head deeper
down. What! not at it yet? Oh! this is preposterous! Under this
impression he rose, shook himself, and advancing his shoulders as far as
prudence would allow, again thrust down his head and stretched his neck
until the very sinews cracked. Then it was, but not till then, that the
conviction was forced on him that that precious morsel was totally and
absolutely beyond his reach altogether. Drawing himself back he sat
down on his haunches and uttered a snarling bark of dissatisfaction.
But the odour that ascended from that hole was too much for the powers
of wolfish nature to resist. Showing his teeth with an expression of
mingled disappointment and ferocity, he plunged his head into the hole
once more. Deeper and deeper still it went, but the blubber was yet
three inches from his eager nose. Another shove--no! dislocation alone
could accomplish the object. His shoulders slid very imperceptibly into
the hole. His nose was within an inch of the prize, and he could
actually touch it with his tongue. Away with cowardly prudence! what
recked he of the consequences? Up went his hind legs, down went his
head, and the tempting bait was gained at last!
Alas for wolfish misfortunes! His fore legs were jammed immovably
against his ribs. A touch of his hind foot on the ice would remedy this
mishap, but he was too far in for that. Vigorously he struggled, but in
vain. The blood rushed to his head, and the keen frost quickly put an
end to his pains. In a few minutes he was dead, and in half an hour he
was frozen, solid as a block of wood, with his hind legs and tail
pointing to the sky.
It was at the consummation of this event that another wolf, likewise
attracted by the blubber, trotted down the wild ravine and uttered a
howl of delighted surprise as it rushed forward to devour its dead
companion--for such is the custom among wolves. And this was the howl
that called Frank forth in time to balk its purpose.
Frank happened to be completely dressed at the time, and as he saw the
wolf bound away up the mountain gorge, he seized his gun and snow-shoes,
and hastily slung on his powder-horn and shot-belt.
"Edith," he cried, as he was about to start, "I must give chase to that
wolf. I won't be gone long. Light the lamp and prepare breakfast,
dear--at least as much of it as you can; I'll be back to complete it.--
Hallo, Chimo! here, Chimo!" he shouted, whistling to the dog, which
bounded forth from the door of the hut and followed his master up the
ravine.
Edith was so well accustomed to solitary wanderings among the rugged
glens in the neighbourhood of Fort Chimo that she felt no alarm on
finding herself left alone in this wild spot. She knew that Frank was
not far off, and expected him back in a few minutes. She knew, also,
that wild animals are not usually so daring as to show themselves in
open ground after the break of day, particularly after the shouts of
human beings have scared them to their dens; so, instead of giving a
thought to any possible dangers that might threaten her, she applied
herself cheerfully and busily to the preparation of their morning meal.
First she lighted the lamp, which instantly removed the gloom of the
interior of the igloo, whose little ice-window as yet admitted only the
faint light of the grey dawn. Then she melted a little snow, and
cleaned out the kettle, in which she placed two cuts of fresh trout; and
having advanced thus far in her work, thought it time to throw on her
hood and peep out to see if Frank was coming. But there was no sign of
Frank, so she re-entered the igloo and began to set things to rights.
She folded up the deerskins on which she had reposed, and piled them at
the head of the willow matting that formed her somewhat rough and
unyielding mattress, after which she arranged the ottoman, and laid out
the breakfast things on the snow-table. Having accomplished all this to
her entire satisfaction, Edith now discovered that the cuts of salmon
were sufficiently well boiled, and began to hope that Frank would be
quick, lest the breakfast should be spoiled. Under the influence of
this feeling she threw on her hood a second time, and going out upon the
lake, surveyed the shore with a scrutinising gaze. The sun was now so
far above the natural horizon that the daylight was pretty clear, but
the high mountains prevented any of his direct rays from penetrating the
gloom of the valley of the lake. Still there was light enough to enable
the solitary child to distinguish the objects on shore; but Frank's tall
form was not visible anywhere.
Heaving a slight sigh, Edith returned to the hut, soliloquising thus as
she went--"Dear me! it is very strange that Frank should stay away so
long. I fear that the trout will be quite spoiled. Perhaps it would be
very good cold. No doubt of it. We shall have it cold, and then I can
get the tea ready."
In pursuance of this plan, the anxious little housekeeper removed the
trout from the kettle, which she cleaned out and refilled with snow.
When this was melted and boiled, she put in the tea. In due time this
also was ready, and she sallied forth once more, with a feeling
approaching to anxiety, to look for Frank. Still her companion did not
make his appearance, and for the first time a feeling of dread touched
her heart. She strove to avert it, however, by considering that Frank
might have been obliged to follow the wolf farther than he expected or
intended. Then a thrill of fear passed through her breast as the
thought occurred, "What if the wolf has attacked and killed him?" As
time wore on, and no sound of voice or gun or bark of dog broke the
dreary stillness of that gloomy place, a feeling of intense horror took
possession of the child's mind, and she pictured to herself all kinds of
possible evils that might have befallen her companion; while at the same
time she could not but feel how awful was her unprotected and helpless
condition. One thought, however, comforted her, and this was that
Maximus would certainly come to the hut on his return to the fort. This
relieved her mind in regard to herself; but the very relief on that
point enabled her all the more to realise the dangers to which Frank
might be exposed without any one to render him assistance.
The morning passed away, the sun rose above the hills, and the
short-lived day drew towards its close; still Frank did not return, and
the poor child who watched so anxiously for him, after many short and
timid wanderings towards the margin of the lake, returned to the igloo
with a heart fluttering from mingled anxiety and terror. Throwing
herself on the deerskin couch, she burst into a flood of tears. As she
lay there, sobbing bitterly, she was startled by a noise outside the
hut, and ere she could spring from her recumbent position, Chimo darted
through the open doorway, with a cry between a whine and a bark, and
laid his head on Edith's lap.
"Oh! what is it, my dog? Dear Chimo, where is Frank?" cried the child
passionately, while she embraced her favourite with feelings of mingled
delight and apprehension. "Is he coming, Chimo?" she said, addressing
the dumb animal, as if she believed he understood her. Then, rising
hastily, she darted out once more, to cast a longing, expectant gaze
towards the place where she had seen her companion disappear in the
morning. But she was again doomed to disappointment. Meanwhile Chimo's
conduct struck her as being very strange. Instead of receiving with his
usual quiet satisfaction the caresses she heaped upon him, he kept up a
continual whine, and ran about hither and thither without any apparent
object in view. Once or twice he darted off with a long melancholy howl
towards the hills; then stopping short suddenly, stood still and looked
round towards his young mistress. At first Edith thought that the dog
must have lost his master, and had come back to the hut expecting to
find him there. Then she called him to her and examined his mouth,
expecting and dreading to find blood upon it. But there were no signs
of his having been engaged in fighting with wolves; so Edith felt sure
that Frank must be safe from _them_ at least, as she knew that Chimo was
too brave to have left his master to perish alone. The dog submitted
with much impatience to this examination, and at last broke away from
Edith and ran yelping towards the hills again, stopping as before, and
looking back.
The resolute manner with which Chimo did this, and the frequency of its
recurrence, at length induced Edith to believe that the animal wished
her to follow him. Instantly it occurred that he might conduct her to
Frank; so without bestowing a thought on the danger of her forsaking the
igloo, she ran in for her snow-shoes, and putting on her hood and thick
mittens, followed the dog to the margin of the lake. Chime's impatience
seemed to subside immediately, and he trotted rapidly towards the ravine
into which Frank had entered in pursuit of the wolf that morning. The
dog paused ever and anon as they proceeded, in order to give the child
time to come up with him; and so eager was Edith in her adventure, and
so hopeful was she that it would terminate in her finding Frank, that
she pressed forward at a rate which would have been utterly impossible
under less exciting circumstances.
At the foot of the ravine she found the remains of the wolf which had
been caught in the snow-trap that morning. Frank had merely pulled it
out and cast it on the snow in passing, and the torn fragments and
scattered bones of the animal showed that its comrades had breakfasted
off its carcass after Frank had passed. Here Edith paused to put on her
snow-shoes, for the snow in the ravine was soft, being less exposed to
the hardening action of the wind; and the dog sat down to wait patiently
until she was ready.
"Now, Chimo, go forward, my good dog. I will follow you without fear,"
she said, when the lines were properly fastened to her feet.
Chimo waited no second command, but threaded his way rapidly up the
ravine among the stunted willow bushes. In doing so he had frequent
occasion to wait for his young mistress, whose strength was rapidly
failing under the unwonted exertion she forced herself to make. At
times she had to pause for breath, and as she cast her eyes upwards and
around at the dreary desolation of the rugged precipices which
everywhere met her view, she could with difficulty refrain from shedding
tears. But Edith's heart was warm and brave. The thought of Frank
being in some mysterious, unknown danger, infused new energy into her
soul and strengthened her slight frame. Having now recovered somewhat
from the nervous haste which urged her to travel at a rate much beyond
her capacity, she advanced into the ravines of the mountains with more
of that steady, regular tramp which practice in the use of her
snow-shoes had taught her to assume; so that, being of a robust
constitution naturally, she became stronger and more able for her
undertaking as she advanced.
For nearly two hours Chimo led Edith into the midst of the mountains.
The scenery became, if possible, more savage as they proceeded, and at
length grew so rugged and full of precipices and dark gorges, or rather
_splits_ in the hills, that Edith had much difficulty in avoiding the
danger of falling over many of the latter, which were partially
concealed by, and in some places entirely covered over with, a crust of
snow. Fortunately, as daylight waned, a brilliant galaxy of stars shone
forth, enabling her to pick her steps.
Hitherto they had followed Frank's snow-shoe track undeviatingly, but
near the top of a cliff Chimo suddenly diverged to the left, and led his
mistress by a steep and tortuous natural path to the bottom. Here he
ran quickly forward, uttering a low whine or whimper, and disappeared
round the corner of the precipice. Hastening after the dog with a
beating heart, Edith speedily gained the projection of the cliff, on
turning which she was startled and terrified by hearing a loud snarling
bark mingled with a fierce growl. In another moment she beheld Chimo
bounding towards a gaunt savage-looking wolf, which stood close beside
the body of a man extended at full length upon the snow.
At first the wolf did not seem inclined to retreat, but the shriek which
Edith uttered on suddenly beholding the scene before her induced him to
turn tail and fly. In another moment the terrified child sank exhausted
on the snow beside the insensible form of Frank Morton.