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Adrift in the Ice-Fields Part 13

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"'Well, sir, I'm much obliged for your good will, any how, and after my cousin Johnny McGrath has his bit of a spree, I'll try and leave it off for a while, any way.'

"Johnny McGrath's 'spree,' a fulling-frolic, came off one Sat.u.r.day night, about a fortnight after this; and while the web of strong, coa.r.s.e homespun cloth, which was to furnish Mac and his boys with their year's stock of outer clothing, was being duly lifted, rubbed, banged on a bench, and twisted by the strong hands of about thirty men and women, Jim led the roaring choruses, and manipulated his end of the cloth with a vigor which at once delighted and alarmed the fair weaver thereof.

"In the dancing and whiskey-drinking which followed, Jim was in his element; and it was nearly midnight before the party broke up, and he was left alone with the rest of his relative's household.

"'Well, Johnny,' said he, 'you've done the decent thing this time, and I'm glad my last spree has been at your place, for I'm going to quit grog for a while. Give me a coal for my pipe, Jane, for it's late, and I've a good five miles' of beach atween me an' home.'

"'Is the man mad?' said Jane, good-naturedly. 'Surely, John, you'll not let him out of the house to-night.'



"'No, no, Jim,' said McGrath, getting between him and the door; 'out of this you don't stir to-night; so sit down, have another drop, and tak' a quiet night's rest.'

"'Come, John, don't anger or hinder me, for I feel strangely to-night, and I must go home.'

"'Faith, that's all the more reason I have to keep you here. Come, sit down, you obstinate fellow, and don't be waking the wife up just before daybreak, only to let in a man that must be out walking all night.

Confound it, would you hit me, Jim? Sure, now, you're not angered--are you?'

"'No, I'm not angry; but I'll not be treated like a child, nor lectered, neither. Let me go, I tell you, or there'll be ill blood between us.

Home I'll go, I tell you!' shouted the excited man. 'Home I'm going, _although the devil tried to stop me_;' and flinging his cousin aside as if he were a child, he rushed out of the house, and took a narrow path which led down to the moonlit sea-beach.

"About an hour after, a despairing cry at the door awakened McGrath and his wearied household, and, opening it, they found a bruised, b.l.o.o.d.y, and literally naked man, lying senseless on the threshold. With some difficulty they recognized the features of Mountain, and it was broad daylight before he came to himself. His story was short, but strange.

"'I took the path down to the beach, thinking to wade the narrow run at Eel Pond, and so save a mile or two of road. It was light as day, and I went along well enough, though I felt sad-like, an' as if somethin' were about to happen me.

"'It's an unchancy place there, near the pond, where the great san'-hill blew over the birch grove an' killed the trees; and last night, as I went through them, the tall, white, broken trunks seemed almost alive.

Why, man, I'd have sworn that some of them had a dozen faces grinnin'

and laughin', and I felt all the while as if I was a fool; for, whenever I stopped an' looked close, there was nought but knots, an' bark, an'

gnarly limbs. Still, although I'd been through them a thousan' times, I felt afraid, for it seemed to me as if there was somebody near me _that I couldn't see_.

"'Well, at last I got through the dead grove, an' came to the san'-plain wher' the ribs of the old s.h.i.+p are stannin', an' I got to thinkin' what she might hev' bin, fer none o' us know how many years she lay in the san' before the great gale swept the san' off of her white bones. I looked at her close as I pa.s.sed, an' although I saw nauthin' but her ribs, she made me think o' a 'natomy; an' I looked all around, but saw no one, an' went down into the water, hevin' first ta'en off my shoes.

"'The cool water did feel nice; an' as I stepped ash.o.r.e, I whistled up "The Devil's Dream," an' struck out across the beach, when, looking back, I saw, between me an' the stream, a man who made at me with terrible ferceness. I can tell you nauthin' about him, 'cept that his clothes were black an' strange, his face dark an' savage, an' his eyes almost like fire. I had no doubt that he meant me harm, an' as he cam'

up, I struck out wi' all my strenth. Ye mind when I hit big Jack Ready, an' thought I should have to flee the country. Well, I hit _him_ twicet as hard, an' he never stopped, but came in an' clinched. My G.o.d! I'm breathless now wi' the squeezin' I got there. I'm afraid of no man standin' within twenty mile, at ayther Ingin hug, collar an' ilbow, or side-hold, but I was like a child in its grip.

"'Still I fought on, though the san' flew into the air; an' through it, like a fog, I saw the old wrack an' the dead grove, an' the fiery eyes that glared into mine, an' I felt the grasp of a han' that seemed to burn into my hip; an' then I knew I couldn't fight fair wi' _that_. I drew my knife an' opened it, an' three times I thrust it to the hilt into the side o' the black man, or devil, an' he only glared at me fercer, an' took a stronger hold on my hip. Just at this moment I felt the cool water at my feet, an' wi' one tremendous effort, I whirled myself into the stream to fight it out there. A moment I lay on my back in the shallow stream, an' then I rose to my feet. I was alone wi'

nauthin' o' what had happened, save the open knife in my han', the trampled beach, an' my torn an' ruined clawthin'.

"'Then I remembered that old McGregor used to say that nauthin' bad could pa.s.s runnin' water, an' I thought I'd get back to ye if I could. I remember somethin' of tearin' through the lonely beach an' blasted woods, of seein' more faces in the trees, an' hearin' quick footsteps on my track, but I remember nauthin' more. Look at my hip, will you, wi'

the cannle there? It hurts me awfully.'

"The candle fell from Jane's shaking hands, but was caught by her husband before it was extinguished.

"'As G.o.d lives, ye have spoken the truth, for there is the mark o' the devil's grip;' and greatly to the terror of all, there appeared on the hip of the exhausted man the black imprint of a thumb and four fingers.

"My informant told me that, fifty years later, after Mountain had raised a large family of children, and pa.s.sed a life subsequently innocent of his youthful excesses, the same indelible marks were left to tell of the terrible conflict of that memorable night; and none of his neighbors ever doubted the literal truth of his strange story, save one.

"That man was B., who never undeceived Mountain, or tried to do so; but in detailing the story to my father, closed the recital thus: 'I have always thought that he had an attack of delirium tremens, and that he fancied the a.s.sault of the goblin; for I forgot to tell you that next morning they followed his track, finding his shoes and fragments of his attire on the opposite side of the run, which was torn up, with the marks of a terrible struggle and many feet. Probably he tore off his own clothes in the fancied fight, drew his knife, struck at "an air-born fantasy," and was finally partially restored by falling into the water, after which he completed his exhaustion by running back to the house.'

"'Have you seen the marks?' asked my father.

"'Yes; I saw them at the time,' slowly answered Mr. B.

"'Were they as described?'

"'Very like the grip of a hand; one dark impression on the back of the left hip, and four smaller ones in a row on the front,' said B.

"'And how do you account for those?' asked my father.

"Mr. B. hesitated, and then answered candidly, 'I don't know what to think of that myself. I have sometimes thought that a fall among the many roots and fallen trunks of trees, which then strewed that desolate place, may have caused such injuries; but why did they remain apparent long after discolorations of such a nature should have disappeared?

Perhaps imagination may have had its effect, and made the impressions indelible. But if there _is_ any truth in old-world stories, few places fitter for such horrors can be found than was that drear waste of sand, dest.i.tute of all signs of man's proximity, bounded on one side by a blackened forest, on the other by the sailless sea, and containing only the whitened ribs of a long-forgotten wreck. None of the folk around here, sir, join in my doubts as to the reality of Mountain's fight with the devil.'"

As Ben closed, a sound of sleigh-bells came up the road, and Lund opened the door, at which appeared a light sleigh driven by one of Risk's sons.

"You and uncle are wanted in town at once. L. has sent you this letter, and says--" And he whispered a few words in his father's ear.

"I came out to-night, for the ice is getting very bad, and a horse was lost crossing the North River at Duckendorff's to-day. It is freezing to-night, but the moon shows at times through the clouds, and we can get home before one o'clock."

An hour later, Risk and the elder Davies bade a regretful farewell to their young companions. "I am sorry," said the former, "that as yet we have had no story from you, La Salle; but I hope to see you at my house in C., and hear it there when your trip is over. Take care of yourself, and make Lund out a false prophet. Good night, captain, you old croaker;" and the sleigh disappeared in the shadows of the forest-covered lane which led to the beach.

"Well, boys," said La Salle, "the best of our evenings are over, and we must look to boat and gun for our best sport."

"We must have your story, though," said Ben.

"O, of course; but not to-night, for we have much to do to-morrow, to get our boats down for the open-water shooting."

With this no one disagreed; and half an hour later, all were fast asleep.

CHAPTER VIII.

FLOAT-SHOOTING.--A GENERAL FIELD-DAY.--CHANGES OF THE ICE.

The next morning, the boats, which were all provided with runners, were drawn to the bar, and Carlo's sled carried, besides the lunch and ammunition of the party, a dozen wooden duck decoys, weighted and roped, for open water.

Davies and Creamer gave up their box and outfit to one-armed Peter, as they were about to try their new paddle-boat. She was duly launched, and Ben placed himself forward, between the paddle-boxes, ready to do the steering and shooting, while Creamer acted as the motive power, transmitted by a belt and pulleys. Although somewhat high out of water, she moved off easily, and made little noise when running slowly; and taking the first of the ebb, the pair moved eastward into the opening ice.

George and Ben Lund, in their new-fas.h.i.+oned centre-wheel, made poorer progress, but hurried out "to get ahead of the skimmin'-dish," as they styled La Salle's light, shallow craft. He let them go, and stationing George and Regnar in the ice-boat, put out his floating decoys in the nearest waters, and, cutting slabs of ice, built a high wall around his own boat, which he drew up on the ice. Carlo incontinently plunged into the straw under the half-deck of the larger boat, and soon all was ready for the expected birds.

Meanwhile, upon the stranded berg which lay immovable off the southern face of the island, gathered the new comers, whose Baccha.n.a.l approach has of late been chronicled. Had they had any outfit of decoys, and known how to use them, they could not but have had good sport; and even as it was, so many birds pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed them, that a good shot could not have failed to secure at least a few ducks. But, however unfortunate in securing any trophies, they failed not in the weight or constancy of their fire.

Not a flock pa.s.sed within a quarter of a mile but received a volley; not a loon that showed his distant head above water but went down under the fire of a platoon; and not a frightened duck darted overhead but heard the air behind him torn with whistling shot enough to have exterminated his whole tribe.

From time to time a lull in the storm would occur, and then peals of laughter would come across the intervening waters; and looking up, the irritated sportsmen generally beheld a tableau of inverted pocket-flasks, and feats of strength with a rapidly lightening ale-keg.

But, although our friends bore the proximity of these city gunners with great patience for a while, an event soon occurred which brought matters to a focus.

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Adrift in the Ice-Fields Part 13 summary

You're reading Adrift in the Ice-Fields. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Charles Winslow Hall. Already has 660 views.

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