Adrift in the Ice-Fields Part 2

"There is nothing earthly about that thing, sir. Macquarrie's house is a long piece from the sh.o.r.e, and Lund's is hidden by the woods. See; look there, sir, for the love of Heaven!" and the stout sailor trembled like a child as the light, describing a sharp curve, rose ten or twelve feet higher into the air, where it seemed to oscillate violently for a few seconds, and then to be at rest.

"Let us hail it, any way," said La Salle; "perhaps we have made some house on the opposite sh.o.r.e."

"We haven't gone a mile, sir; and as for hailing _that_, sir, I'd as soon speak the Flying Dutchman, and ask her captain aboard to dinner."

"Well, I'll try it, anyhow.--'Halloo! Light, ahoy!'" he shouted, placing his hands so as to aid the sound against the wind, which blew across the line of direction between them and the mysterious light. Again and again the hail was repeated, but no answer followed.

"You may call until doomsday, but they who have lit that lamp will never answer mortal hail again. They died thirty falls ago, amid frost and falling snow, ay, and foaming breakers, on this very bar, and the men on sh.o.r.e saw the light s.h.i.+ver, and swing, and disappear, as we saw it just now."

"Well, I don't believe in that kind of light, and I, for one, am going to see what it is. Now, don't move from your place, but watch the light, and if you hear the report, or see the flash, of my gun, answer it once with both barrels, counting three between the first and second shots. If I fire a second time, call all hands and come ash.o.r.e."

"Well, Master Charley, I wouldn't venture it for all on the face of the earth; but we must do something, and the Lord be between ye and harm.

See, now," he added, in a lower tone, "you're a heretic, I know, the Virgin pardon ye; but I'll say a Pater and two Aves, and if you never come back--"

"There, there, Hughie, old fellow, don't go mad with your foolish fears.

Pray for yourself and us, if you please, for it is a terrible night, and we may well stand in need of prayer; but do your duty like a man. Stand in your place until I summon you, and then come, if a score of ghosts stand in the way."

The next second Hughie stood alone, watching the tremulous radiance of the mysterious beacon, which La Salle rapidly approached, not without fear, it may be, but with a settled determination superior to the weakness which he felt, for the danger, exposure, and settled fears of his companion had almost transmitted their contagion to his own mind. As he drew nearer, however, the apparition resolved itself into a large reflecting lantern, suspended from a pole, in the hands of Captain Lund, who had headed a party to a.s.sist their friends to find the sh.o.r.e. The approach of our hero was not at first noticed, as he came up the bank a little to the rear of the party.

"I'm sure, gentlemen, I don't know what to advise; and yet we can't let them perish on the floes. We had better get the guns, and build a bonfire on the cape below; perhaps they may see it; but it wasn't for nothing that I saw those men the other night. Poor La Salle laughed at it, but if he was here now--"

[Ill.u.s.tration: CAPT. LUND HEADED A PARTY TO a.s.sIST THEIR FRIENDS. Page 32.]

"He is here, captain, thanks to your lantern, although Hughie, who is out on the ice yonder, s.h.i.+vering with fright and fear, vowed that it was the 'Packet Light,' and would scarcely let me come to see what it was.

But this is no time to tell long stories; so I'll give the signal at once."

Creamer, fearfully watching the luminous spot, saw suddenly beside a jet of red flame, as the heavy gun roared the welcome signal that all was well; and scarcely a half moment later a still heavier report called the perplexed and wearied party to the sh.o.r.e, where they found themselves but about ten minutes' walk from the house.

Half an hour later, the bustling housewife summoned them to the s.p.a.cious table, which was crowded with a profusion of smoking-hot viands, among which two huge geese, roasted to a turn, attracted the attention of all.

Mr. Risk saw the inquiring looks of the others, and "rose to explain."

"Davies and I claim 'first blood,' as you see, having killed this pair, which, early in the morning, flew in from the westward, and were just lighting among our decoys, when we each dropped our bird. We came in early, seeing the storm brewing, and, being warned by Indian Peter, we escaped much inconvenience, if not danger, and were able to supply a brace of hot geese for supper. We shall expect a similar contribution to the general comfort from each party in rotation, in accordance with the ancient usage of professors of our venerable and honorable mystery.

"Well, Lund," he continued, "the omen is not yet verified, although the party was nearly lost, and would have been altogether, if Hughie here had had his way, when he took your lantern for a ghost."

"Well, it does seem foolish, now that it is all over; but I have seen the 'Packet Light' myself too often not to believe in it, and so I was as simply frightened at the captain's lantern as the people of Loughrea were at Matthew Collins's ghost."

La Salle noted the look of annoyance which clouded the usually placid brow of their host, and hastened to allay the threatened storm. Rising from his seat, he begged the attention of the company.

"As we are to spend our evenings together for some weeks, it seems to me that it would not be a bad plan to require of each of our company, in rotation, some tale of wonder or personal adventure. Hughie has just referred to what must be an interesting and little known local legend of his mother isle. I move that we adjourn to the kitchen, and pa.s.s an hour in listening to it."

The proposition met with general favor, and rising, the company pa.s.sed into the unplastered kitchen, through whose thin walls and poorly seasoned sashes came occasional little puffs of the furious wind, which whistled and howled like a demon without. The gunners seated themselves around the huge fireplace, in which a pile of dried gnarled roots filled the room with light and warmth, and lighting pipe or cigar, as fancy dictated, gave a respectful attention to the promised story.

As will be gathered from the preceding conversation, Creamer spoke excellent English, but as is often the case when excited, he lapsed at times into a rich brogue. This he did to a considerable degree in relating what he was pleased to call the story of

MATTHEW COLLINS'S GHOST.

"I was only a babe in arms when my father crossed the ocean to settle down on the Fane estate as one of the number of settlers, called for by the terms of the original grant. His father was a _warm_ houlder in Errigle-Trough, and had my father been patient and industhrious, he would in a few years have rinted as good an hundhred acres as there was in that section. But the agent tould of land at a s.h.i.+llin' an acre, with wood in plenty, and trees that grew sugar, and game and fish for every one, and my father thought that he was provided for for life, when, with his lease in his pocket and a free pa.s.sage, he stepped on board the ould s.h.i.+p that bore us to this little island.

"He wasn't far wrong, for he died when I was fifteen, worn out with clearin' woodland, and working all winter in the deep snow at lumbering, to keep us in bread and herrin'. He was a disappointed, worn-out old man at forty, and it was only when he told of the good old times of his youth that I ever seen him smile at all, at all.

"Matthew Collins was a well-to-do farmer of the neighboring parish of Errigle-Keeran, and had a snug cottage and barn, with a good team of plough-horses, a cow, two goats, and a pig, beside poulthry enough to keep him in egg-milk, and even an occasional fowl or two on a birthday, or holy feast. He married Katty Bane, one of the prettiest girls and greatest coquettes in the whole parish. She, however, made him a good wife and careful manager, until the events of my sthory.

"One day, late in the fall, Matthew harnessed his horses in a hay-riggin', and drove off to the bog, five miles away, to haul in his winter's firin'. He wrought all day, getting the dried turfs into a pile, and had just half loaded his team, when a stranger, decently dressed, came up to him, and asked if his name was Matthew Collins.

"'That, indeed, is the name that's on me,' said Matthew; 'and what might you be wantin' of me?'

"'I've sorrowful news for you, Mat,' said the stranger. 'Your sister Rose, that married my poor cousin Tim Mulloy, beyant the mountains, is dead, and I'm sint to bid ye to the berryin' to-morrow.'

"For a few moments Matthew gave way to a natural feeling of grief at the loss of his sister; but he soon bethought himself that he was five miles from home, and that a circuitous road of at least twenty miles lay between his house and the parish of his sister's husband.

"'I can never do it, that's certain,' said he to the stranger. 'It's five miles home, and there's changin' my clothes, and a twenty-mile drive over a road that it's timptin' Providence to attimpt in the dark.'

"'It's a great bother, intirely," said the stranger, reflectively.

'Musha! I have it. Take my clothes, and take the short cut across the Devil's Nose. In three hours you'll be at the wake, and I'll dhrive the team home and tell the good woman, and be round with a saddle-horse before mornin'.'

"'Faith it's yourself that's the dacent thing, any how; and I'm sorry that I can't be at home to thrate you with a bottle of the rale poteen.

Never mind; tell Nancy it's in the thatch above the dure; and you're welcome to it all the same as if I were there myself.'

"'We won't part without a gla.s.s, any how,' said the stranger, laughingly. 'I've a pint bottle of the rale stuff, and some boiled eggs, and we'll soon have a couple of the sh.e.l.ls emptied, in the shake of a lamb's tail, and thin we'll change clothes and dhrink to your safe journey.'

"Accordingly the two exchanged clothes, and sat for half an hour, while the stranger described the last illness of the deceased, and the respect shown her memory by the people of her parish.

"'Divil a whole head will be left in the parish, if they dhrink all the whiskey; and there's stacks of pipes, and las.h.i.+n's of tobacky, with tay and cakes, and the house in a blaze with mould candles. Is the road azy to find?' continued he. 'For I'm goin', mylone, where I never was afore.'

"'It's as plain as a pikestaff to the very door. Only take tent of the bridge at the slough, two miles beyant; for there's a broken balk that may upset ye.'

"'I'll warrant I'll look out for that. Have one more noggin. _Here's a safe journey and a dacint berrin' to us both._'

"With this rather Irish toast, the two separated, Matthew seeing the stranger safe off the moss, and then commencing his short but fatiguing journey over the narrow mountain path which lay between him and his destination.

"Long before sunset, the careful Katty had had the delph teapot simmering among the hot peat ashes; and the well-browned bacon and mealy potatoes, carefully covered to retain the heat, only awaited the return of 'the master' from the distant bog. They had no children; but Andy, Katty's brother (a _gossoon_ of thirteen), eyed the simple supper anxiously, going from time to time to the door to see if he could see the well-known gray horses coming by the old buckthorn, where the little lane joined the main road.

"The sunset, the night, came on, and Katty became hungry and out of temper.

"'Andy, _alannah_,' said she, 'run to the hill beyant, and try can you see aught of the masther; for I'm tired wid the day's spinnin', and hungry, and wake.'

"The boy went, but returned, saying that no team was in sight.

"'Thin, Andy, jewel, we'll have our supper anyhow; for the tay'll be black wid thrawin', and the bacon and praties spilt intirely.'

"Accordingly the two sat down and finished their evening meal, expecting every moment to hear the cheery voice of Matthew as he urged his _garrons_ with their heavy load up the steep lane beside the cottage.

"About nine o'clock, the wife became alarmed, and with Andy went to a neighbor's. Tim O'Connell, the village blacksmith, had just fallen asleep after a hard day's work, and woke in no very amiable frame of mind as Katty rapped at the door.

"'Who's there at all at this time of night?' said he, gruffly.

"'Only meself, Katty Collins, and Andy,' said Katty, rather dolorously, for she was now thoroughly alarmed.