Left on the Labrador Part 25

Charley was so excited that he could hardly hold his rifle, but he aimed and fired. Skipper Zeb and Toby fired at the same time, and the three continued to shoot into the herd until fourteen of the fine antlered beasts lay stretched upon the snow.

"That's enough of un!" directed Skipper Zeb. "'Twill be all we wants, and there'll be enough for Long Tom Ham, too. We'll knock down no more than we can use handy."

With the report of the rifles the animals had begun to move restlessly about. Some of the bucks were snorting, but because the wind was blowing down from the herd toward the hunters, no smell of their enemies reached the caribou. The sound of shooting and even the view of the hunter will often fail to startle a herd, unless they get the smell. But something had happened to some of their number, and the sentinels were on the alert.

Skipper Zeb, with Toby and Charley, stepped out from cover and approached their victims. Suddenly panic seized the herd. It is probable that in their sudden terror the animals did not see or realize that these were the enemies that had attacked them, but with one accord they started forward. Slowly at first the great herd moved, and then, in an instant, were in a wild stampede.

The three hunters stood directly in the pathway of the fear-blinded animals. On they came, the thousands of hoofs beating upon the frozen snow with an ominous roar like that of a great wind, and smas.h.i.+ng everything before them.

"Run! Run! They'll trample us down!" yelled Skipper Zeb.

They turned and ran, but they could not run with half the speed of deer.

XXII

THE STRANGER

On came the caribou like a brigade of charging cavalry, tramping all before them. Forward they swept in blind panic, as relentlessly destructive as an avalanche, and no more easily stopped or turned aside.

Skipper Zeb and the two boys ran as they had never run before. Once Charley slipped and fell, but was on his feet in an instant. It was an uneven race, and there was no hope of outdistancing the sea of animals in mad flight.

Skipper Zeb knew this, but he hoped to find refuge for himself and the boys behind a boulder large enough to protect them in its lee. Such a boulder caught his eye, and yelling at the boys at the top of his voice, that he might be heard by them above the roar of the pounding hoofs, he directed them to follow him. The foremost caribou were at their heels, when they crouched, breathless with their running, behind the boulder, and not an instant too soon. Here in safety they watched the herd sweep past them like ocean waves.

Nearly as quickly as the stampede began it ended. The herd swung to the northeast, began to slow its pace, and presently the three hunters saw the rear of the herd in the distance, no longer running, but still moving around restlessly before the animals resumed their morning feeding.

Eight of the carca.s.ses of those they had shot were hauled to the cabin that morning, and while Skipper Zeb busied himself skinning and dressing them, Toby and Charley, in the afternoon, loaded another on the komatik and drove over to Long Tom Ham's at Lucky Bight, and in the evening brought him back with them that he might prepare and take home with him the meat and hides of those that had been reserved for his use; and for this purpose Skipper Zeb loaned him the dogs and komatik.

In that land neighbours are neighbours indeed. They never lose an opportunity to do one another a good turn; and just as Skipper Zeb had thoughtfully shot the animals for Long Tom, and provided the means for Long Tom to take them home, others would, he knew, if occasion offered, do him a similar kindness.

It was no small job to skin the carca.s.ses and prepare the meat. The sinews were cut from the backs, sc.r.a.ped carefully and hung in the cabin to dry. Later, as she required them, Mrs. Twig would separate them into threads with which to sew moccasins, and boots, and other articles of skin clothing. The tongues were preserved as a delicacy. The livers and hearts were put aside to serve as a variety in diet. The back fat was prized as a subst.i.tute for lard. The venison was hung up to freeze and keep sweet for daily consumption.

What a treat that venison was! Charley declared he had never tasted such delicious meat, and he was sure it was much better than beef.

"Well, now!" said Skipper Zeb. "I never in my life tastes beef, and I were thinkin' beef might be better than deer's meat, though I thinks deer's meat is good enough for any man to eat."

Christmas came with plum duff as a special treat, and then the New Year, and with it Skipper Zeb's departure again for his trapping grounds, where he was to remain alone, tramping silent, lonely trails until the middle of April, then to return before the warming sun softened the snow and in season for the spring seal hunt.

In January the cold increased. With February it became so intense that even the animals kept close to their lairs, venturing out only when hunger drove them forth to seek food.

In January Toby and Charley captured two martens and one red fox, and during February the traps were visited but twice a week, and with no returns. For their pains, they suffered frost-bitten cheeks and noses, which peeled in due time, leaving white patches where the frost burn had been. Then, too, the rabbit snares were sprung and abandoned. There were rabbits and partridges enough hanging frozen in the porch to serve the family needs until spring.

During the cold days of January and February Charley and Toby spent much time in the cabin a.s.sisting Mrs. Twig prepare and tan the caribou skins into soft buckskin, or occupied themselves outside at the woodpile with a crosscut saw. The woodpile seemed always to require attention, and though it was a bit tiresome now and again when they wished to do something more interesting, it supplied excellent exercise.

But they had their share of sport too. On days when there was a fair breeze it was great fun sailing an old sledge over the bay ice. They fitted a mast upon it, and with a boat sail had some rare spins, with occasional spills, which added to the zest of the sport.

Both Charley and Toby enjoyed, perhaps, most of all their excursions with the dogs. When Skipper Zeb returned to his trapping path after his holiday, they took him back, with a load of provisions to Black River tilt. And twice since, on the fortnightly weekend, when they knew he would be there, they drove over and spent the night with him in the tilt, and a jolly time they had on each occasion.

Once on a Sat.u.r.day the whole family paid a visit to Skipper Tom Ham and his wife at Lucky Bight, spending a Sunday with them. The journey on the komatik was a great treat for both Mrs. Twig and Violet, and this visit supplied food for pleasant conversation during the remainder of the winter.

One day in January Aaron Slade and his wife, neighbours who lived at Long Run, some forty miles away and to the southward of Pinch-In Tickle, drove into Double Up Cove with dogs and komatik, and spent two whole days with the Twigs. And then, the following week, came David Dyson and his son Joseph, and to all the visitors Toby, with vast pride, exhibited his wonderful silver fox pelt.

"'Tis a fine silver!" exclaimed Aaron, holding it up and shaking out its glossy fur that he might admire its sheen. "'Tis the finest silver ever caught in these parts! You'll be gettin' a fine price for he, Toby."

And so said David Dyson and Joseph, and David, with a wise shake of his head, added:

"Don't be lettin' the traders have un, now, for what they offers first.

Make un pay the worth of he."

With these excursions of their own, and the pleasant visits from their neighbours, and with always enough to do, time slipped away quickly, and the middle of March came with its rapidly lengthening days.

"In another month, whatever, Dad'll be comin' home," said Toby one morning when they were at breakfast. "We'll go for he with the dogs and komatik. And then 'twill soon be time for the sealin' and fis.h.i.+n'

again."

"'Twill be nice to have fresh fish again," suggested Mrs. Twig. "We're not havin' any but salt fish the whole winter. I'm thinkin' 'twould be fine for you lads to catch some trout. I'm wonderful hungry for trout."

"I can be helpin' too," Violet broke in delightedly.

"'Twill be fine, now," agreed Toby enthusiastically. "We'll catch un to-day."

"How can you catch trout with everything frozen as tight as a drumhead?"

asked Charley.

"I'll be showin' you when we gets through breakfast," Toby a.s.sured. "We always gets un in winter when we gets hungry for un."

"I'm hungry for trout too," laughed Charley, adding skeptically, "but you'll have to show me, and I'll have to see them before I'll believe we can get them with forty below zero."

"I'll be showin' you," Toby promised.

From a box he selected some heavy fis.h.i.+ng line and three hooks. On the shank of the hooks, and just below the eye, was a cone shaped lead weight, moulded upon the shank. Each line was then attached to the end of a short, stiff stick about three feet in length, which he obtained from the woodpile outside. Then the hooks were attached to the lines, and cutting some pieces of pork rind, Toby announced that the "gear" was ready.

Violet had her things on, and armed with the equipment, the three set out expectantly for the ice, Toby picking up an ax to take with them as he pa.s.sed through the wood porch.

"Here's where we fishes," said Toby, leading the way to a wide crack in the ice a few feet from sh.o.r.e and following the sh.o.r.e line, caused by the rising and falling of tide.

The crack at the point indicated by Toby was eighteen inches wide. With the ax he cut three holes at intervals of a few feet through a coating of three or four inches of young, or new ice, which had formed upon the ice in the crack. Then, baiting the hooks with pork rind, he gave one of the sticks with line and baited hook to Charley and one to Violet.

"The way you fishes now," he explained to Charley, "you just drops the hook into the water in a hole, and holdin' the stick keeps un movin' up and down kind of slow. When you feels somethin' heavy on the hook heave un out."

"Don't the trout fight after you hook them?" asked Charley. "I always heard they fought to get away, and you had to play them and tire them out before you landed them."

"They never fights in winter, and your fis.h.i.+n' pole is strong enough so she won't be hurt any by heavin' they out soon as you hooks un," grinned Toby. "'Tis too cold to play with un any. Just heave un up on the ice.

They don't feel much like sportin' about this weather."

Charley had scarcely dropped his line into the water, when Violet gave a little scream of delight, and cried: