Adrift in the Ice-Fields Part 21

"He's an ole male. He dreadful angry, and I s'pect some other one near here. Yes, there he comes;" and Regnar pointed to another opening between two ma.s.sive floes, from whence, sounding a valorous defiance to his challenger, emerged a second seal, even larger than the first. With mutual animosity they darted towards each other, and the next moment were engaged in a terrific combat.

So quick were their evolutions as they fought, now above and now below the surface of the water, that the eye could scarcely distinguish which, for the moment, had a temporary advantage, although one was much darker in hue, and more beautifully marked than the other. They sprang into the air, they dived beneath the surface, they threw their heavy bodies against each other, they tore each other with teeth and claws, and the water was covered with b.l.o.o.d.y foam.

La Salle watched the fray with divided interest. It was a new and interesting lesson in natural history, and he wanted the huge skins and blubber of the combatants, who fought on unconscious of their hidden audience, and the deep interest taken in their movements. Half a dozen times La Salle had raised his huge gun to fire, and lowered it again, unable to get a sure aim, so sudden were the changes of the conflict. At last, wearied but unconquered, both lay almost motionless upon the water, tearing at each other's throats like bull-dogs who have fought to mutual exhaustion.

As his heavy weapon settled into deadly aim, Regnar touched La Salle's shoulder. "No shot heavy enough for those fellows; must have bullet.

That hood turn anything but rifle-ball."

By the side of the hummock lay a short piece of pine board, once the movable thwart of the float. La Salle beckoned to Peter. "Make me out of this a stout, sharp-headed arrow, with a heavy shaft." Peter doubtfully drew his _waghon_ and split off a piece, which in about a minute was whittled into a short, stout arrow, headed only with a wooden point, the largest diameter of which fitted pretty accurately to the bore of the heavy piece. La Salle, meanwhile, had drawn his shot, and motioning to Peter to load a barrel of his own gun in like manner, turned to watch the waning conflict, which, notwithstanding the exhaustion of the combatants, had evidently produced little more damage than a few savage flesh wounds.

In another moment Peter had fitted another arrow to his own gun, and awaited the word. Regnar whistled sharp and shrill, the combatants suddenly separated, and each, rising until his flippers showed above the surface, looked on all sides for the source of this sudden interruption.

At once both guns roared in unison, a distance of scarce twenty yards intervening between the marksmen and their prey. Peter's mark, the largest and most beautiful of the two, fell dead, with its head transfixed with the arrow, which waved feebly above the crimsoned surface, as the huge body trembled with the throes of dissolution. La Salle's aim was less sure, and the novel missile tore through the neck, just below the ear. A fountain of blood sprang ten feet into the air as the dying animal fell back, spurning the b.l.o.o.d.y pool with tail and flippers; but the mighty heart sent forth its wasted life-tide, until its current was exhausted and the powerful "old hood" was like his whilom rival--a lifeless ma.s.s of inert flesh.

"Well, I never see such ting shoot before. I use duck shot, goose shot, sometime nails, and sometime little stones, and once in woods I kill gleat bear with junk of lead: but I never shoot arrow before." Thus said Peter, wondering at his own achievement.

Waring had noted with great curiosity the effect of the new missile.

"Where did you learn that, Charley? To think that a piece of soft wood should kill such huge animals!"

La Salle had hastened to launch the boat, but stopped to answer a question in which all seemed to take an interest. "About three hundred years ago, Captain John Hawkins, a stout skipper of Devon, and one of those old sea-dogs who helped to conquer the great Spanish Armada, had these arrows, which he called 'sprights,' to distinguish them from those still used with the English longbow, made in large quant.i.ties, to be used in the muskets of his men. He claimed that they pa.s.sed through and through the bulwarks of the Spanish s.h.i.+ps, and highly commended them to his contemporaries. I should prefer bullets myself, but have no doubt that they attain a great range, and have, before this, driven a piece of soft pine nearly five inches into a hard spruce post. I should feel perfectly safe in meeting a bear or wolf with no other missile in my gun."

Regnar jumped into the boat, and the two pushed off and secured the seals, both of which were very fat, but covered with blood, and much cut about the head and neck. Securing them with a rope, they returned to the sh.o.r.e, and with some difficulty hauled them out upon the berg, where Peter and Regnar hastened to skin them, and preserve such portions of the meat as they required. The heads were also split to procure the brains, and the large sinews extracted, after which the bodies were consigned to the sea, and at once sank down until they were lost from sight in the depths of the Gulf.

The three skins were then carefully stripped of blubber and membrane, and Peter, taking the brains, mixed them with water into a soft paste, which was spread over the inner side of each skin. Each was then folded once, and then formed into a compact roll, tightly bound with the sinews, after which the three skins were suspended at the top of the hut above the stove, to await the softening action of the brain-paste.

CHAPTER XV.

A SAIL.--THE SEALING GROUNDS.--THE ESQUIMAUX LAMP.--AN INDIAN LEGEND.

About a hundred pounds of blubber lay upon the ice, and Carlo was luxuriating on a whole hind quarter, which was given up to his especial use, to make up for the rather short commons he had of late been reduced to. About fifty birds lay behind the hummock, and Peter, who was anxious to secure a bird-skin coverlet for his own use, set himself down to skin the finest ones. Waring joined him in the task.

"There's the big berg where we killed ussuk yesterday. Less go and look around. Perhaps we see land," said Regnar.

"No, Regnie; we are fifty miles from any land now, and I think about one third of the way across to the Magdalen Islands. Still, I should like to take an observation, and see where we are; and we may not have such a calm spell again for two or three days."

Pulling off to the berg, they found the shelf on which lay the dead seal, and climbing the ice-cliff, they saw spread out before them a strange and pleasing spectacle. The fog had lifted, for it was now nearly noon, and although some rain still fell, the eye could see the broken ice-pack seamed with channels, and scarred with pools of varying size, for at least eight miles in any direction. Regnar started, turned to his companion, and seizing his shoulder with convulsive energy, pointed to the east. A long ribbon of black vapor hung over the ice, low down on the horizon, and beneath it towered the topsail of a brigantine, going free before the wind.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"It is a sealing steamer, boring out of the pack," said Regnar.

La Salle's first impulse was to rush to the boat, and rejoin his comrades, to set signals, burn bonfires--anything which might possibly call the attention of those on board. Then he considered the futility of such endeavors, and he turned to his comrade,--

"We can't signal her now, Regnar, and we won't excite in our friends hopes which cannot fail to be disappointed. We shall see her again soon."

Regnar looked around them, cast glances of admiration on the abundance of animal life presented to their view, gave a look of approval to his friend, and answered in his Esquimaux-English,--

"It is good. I fear not. That steamer sail away to-day, for wind fair.

If wind east to-morrow, she sail this way. If wind north, she go south; but she no leave this place till she beats the pack, like a hound. Look there--see that floe. Plenty seal there to load one vessel."

The view was indeed charming, for ice and water were alive with birds, and among them moved in every direction the bullet heads of many seals.

About three miles to the eastward lay a large pan, and around it the water was dark with the older amphibia, while from it came, in the occasional calm intervals, the unceasing whine, which the baby seal never foregos for a moment, except when asleep or feeding.

"We want more skins, master," said the boy. "We could soon fill our boat--we two."

A cold puff came from the westward, and a slight break showed itself in the north-west.

"We shall have clear weather and a westerly breeze after sunset," said La Salle. "We will get ready to-night, and to-morrow we will have a battle among the seals."

Retracing their steps, they entered their boats, and returned to their friends, to whom they imparted the news of the proximity of the sealing-grounds.

"We need about ten large skins, and some smaller ones. So let us get ready to-night, and if the weather is favorable, visit the 'nursery'

to-morrow."

So saying, La Salle took one of the large floating decoys made of cork and canvas, and painted black, and drawing a nail from the broken boat, fastened it to the end of a strip from the bottom--in fact, one of the runners. This was planted beside the strip, sustaining the record contained in the copper case, and formed a beacon, easily distinguished against the lighter ice.

Guns were cleaned, knives and axes sharpened, for the soapstone boulder had been brought from the berg, and afforded quite a good whetstone, to patient labor; and Peter, with his knife, finished, in the course of the evening, a number of wooden bolts for himself, La Salle, and Regnar; and even Waring fitted a couple into two of the bra.s.s sh.e.l.ls of his breech-loader.

Regnar took the remains of the steel boat-hook, and succeeded in straightening the hook, which he drew down into the shape of a rude chisel. Peter tempered it for him, and then, with this rude tool and an axe, he split the boulder of soapstone into halves, making two bowl-shaped pieces, about fifteen inches across, in the line of cleavage. One of these he proceeded to hollow out into an Esquimaux lamp, for the stock of wood had been largely drawn upon during the cold spell just over, and only about twenty decoys remained unburnt. Waring sat next him, unraveling one of the old cotton-flannel over-s.h.i.+rts, and twisting the fibres into large wicks; while La Salle made a cover of the last remaining sheet-iron decoy, with holes for six wicks. As they sat around the fire, Waring suddenly broke the silence.

"Charley," said he, "you have never told your story, although all the rest of the club took their turn. We are not making much noise with our work. Can't you give us your story now, to while away the evening?"

La Salle was at first disposed to comply, but his eye fell on the dark features of Peter, opposite him.

"Peter," said he, "tell us one of the tales your old people tell around the winter fire in the long, cold evenings. Tell us of Teahm or Kit-pus-e-ag-a-now."

"How you know them?" asked the Indian, surprised out of his usual self-possession. "You speak Micmac too?"

"O, no, Peter; but I have heard many of these old tales, and I know the lads would like to hear them too."

"Yes, yes, Peter," added Waring, "let us have one, by all means."

Peter laid aside his pipe, for he still retained a little of his treasured tobacco, and in a slow, sententious tone repeated one of those tribal legends which are all that keep alive the fire of patriotism and national pride, in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of a people who find themselves strangers, outcasts, and without a country in the land of their birth, once theirs alone.

PETER'S STORY.

"The old people were camped long, long ago, near the Oolastook, where now stands St. John. All this lan' Indian then. No 'hite man live here that time, and the hunter always find game plenty--plenty moose, plenty bear, plenty fish, plenty everyting.

"Then Indians not so wicked as now, and G.o.d had not sent 'hite men to punish them for their sins. But even then they fought each other; and between my people and the Quedetchque--that my name; you call 'em Mohawk, I b'lieve--there was war, all time war.

"The Quedetchque come down every fall, follow down banks of river, wait alound village until all my people asleep; make warwhoop, fire arrows, set fire to _womegun_, lun off with prisoner, and plenty scalp. One time all my people away, only squaw and children in town; Quedetchque war-party come, burn an' kill; get plenty scalp of women and boy, and chief take away Coquan, what you call 'Lainbow,' wife of great chief 'Tamegun,' the tomahawk.

"They hurry home fas', but the snow fall thick, an' soon Tamegun an' one other man come home, fin' wigwam burnt, an' dead people all alound. They tighten belts, take bow, knife, an' axe, and follow on track.