In the dead of winter, great storms of wind and snow raged for days
together, so that it was unsafe to venture ten fathoms from the door,
and the glass fell to fifty degrees (and more) below zero, where the
liquid behaved in a fashion so sluggish that 'twould not have surprised
us had it withdrawn into the bulb altogether, never to reappear in a
sphere of agreeable activity. By night and day we kept the fires roaring
(my father and Skipper Tommy standing watch and watch in the night) and
might have gone at ease, cold as it was, had we not been haunted by the
fear that a conflagration, despite our watchfulness, would of a sudden
put us at the mercy of the weather, which would have made an end of us,
every one, in a night. But when the skipper had wrought us into a
cheerful mood, the wild, white days sped swift enough--so fast, indeed,
that it was quite beyond me to keep count of them: for he was marvellous
at devising adventures out-of-doors and pastimes within. At length,
however, he said that he must be off to the Lodge, else Jacky and
Timmie, the twins, who had been left to fend for themselves, would
expire of longing for his return.
"An' I'll be takin' Davy back with me, mum," said he to my mother, not
daring, however, to meet her eye to eye with the proposal, "for the
twins is wantin' him sore."
"Davy!" cried my mother. "Surely, Skipper Tommy, you're not thinking to
have Davy back with you!"
Skipper Tommy ventured to maintain that I would be the better of a run
in the woods, which would (as he ingeniously intimated) restore the
blood to my cheeks: whereupon my mother came at once to his way of
thinking, and would hear of no delay, but said--and that in a fever of
anxiety--that I must be off in the morning, for she would not rest until
I was put in the way of having healthful sport with lads of my age. So,
that night, my sister made up three weeks' rations for me from our store
(with something extra in the way of tinned beef and a pot of jam as a
gift from me to the twins); also, she mended my sleeping-bag, in which
my sprouting legs had kicked a hole, and got out the big black wolfskin,
for bed covering in case of need. And by the first light of the next day
we loaded the komatik, harnessed the joyful dogs and set out with a
rush, the skipper's long whip cracking a jolly farewell as we went
swinging over the frozen harbour to the Arm.
"Hi, hi, b'y!" the skipper shouted to the dogs.
Crack! went the whip, high over the heads of the pack. The dogs yelped.
"Hi, hi!" screamed I. And on we sped, raising a dust of crisp snow in
our wake. It was a famous pack. Fox, the new leader, was a mighty,
indomitable fellow, and old Wolf, in the rear, had a sharp eye for
lagging heels, which he snapped, in a flash, whenever a trace was let
slack. What with Fox and Wolf and the skipper's long whip and my cries
of encouragement there was no let up. On we went, coursing over the
level stretches, bumping over rough places, swerving 'round the turns.
It was a glorious ride. The day was clear, the air frosty, the pace
exhilarating. The blood tingled in every part of me. I was sorry when we
rounded Pipestem Point, and the huddled tilts of the Lodge, half buried
in snow, came into view. But, half an hour later, in Skipper Tommy's
tilt, I was glad that the distance had been no greater, for then the
twins were helping me thaw out my cheeks and the tip of my nose, which
had been frozen on the way.
That night the twins and I slept together in the cock-loft like a litter
of puppies.
"Beef!" sighed Jacky, the last thing before falling asleep. "Think o'
that, Timmie!"
"An' jam!" said Timmie.
They gave me a nudge to waken me. "Thanks, Davy," said they both.
Then I fell asleep.
* * * * *
Our folk slept a great deal at the Lodge. They seemed to want to have
the winter pass without knowing more than they could help of the various
pangs of it--like the bears. But, when the weather permitted them to
stir without, they trapped for fox and lynx, and hunted (to small
purpose) with antiquated guns, and cut wood, if they were in the humour;
and whatever necessity compelled them to do, and whatever they had to
eat (since there was at least enough of it), they managed to have a
rollicking time of it, as you would not suppose, without being told. The
tilts were built of slim logs, caulked with moss; and there was but one
room--and that a bare one--with bunks at one end for the women and a
cock-loft above for the men. The stove was kept at red heat, day and
night, but, notwithstanding, there was half an inch of frost on the
walls and great icicles under the bunks: extremes of temperature were
thus to be found within a very narrow compass. In the evening, when we
were all gathered close about the stove, we passed the jolliest hours;
for it was then that the folk came in, and tales were told, and (what
was even more to our taste) the "spurts at religion" occurred.
When the argument concerned the pains of hell, Mary, Tom Tot's daughter,
who was already bound out to service to the new manager of the store at
Wayfarer's Tickle (expected by the first mail-boat), would slip softly
in to listen.
"What you thinkin' about?" I whispered, once.
She sat remote from the company, biting her finger nails, staring,
meanwhile, from speaker to speaker, with eyes that were pitifully eager.
"Hell," she answered.