The Wilderness Castaways Part 22

Presently they learned that one of the men could speak broken English, and Dan related to him, making him understand with some difficulty, their adventures.

"Kablunok soon," said he, "close."

"No understand. What's 'kablunok'?" Dan asked.

"Kablunok, white man. Very close."

"Where is un?"

"Post; there," pointing south. "Very close. Mr. MacTavish."

The Eskimos indicated a direction apparently inland from their position.

"No water?" asked Dan. "We walk?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Eskimos were watching them curiously from the beach]

"No; water plenty. Big point," explained the Eskimo, drawing on the sand two parallel lines, rounded together at one end. "Land," he explained. "We here," indicating a point on one side of it, "post here," indicating another point almost directly opposite. "Umiak, boat, sail round."

This made the situation clear to Dan. The Eskimo encampment was on one side of a long, narrow peninsula, while on the opposite side of the peninsula was located a trading post, and by sailing around the extreme point of the peninsula they would presently reach the post.

The lads were anxious to proceed at once, but the Eskimos insisted upon their drinking some hot tea which one of the women had prepared.

They then said adieu to their friends, and with light hearts and high expectations resumed their journey, which they felt was now, with all its hards.h.i.+ps and uncertainties, soon to end.

Early in the forenoon the sun disappeared behind thickening gray clouds, and before midday, when they rounded the point, an early storm was threatening. But the young wanderers gave small thought to this, for presently they were to reach the post, where they would be secure from wintry blast and driving snow. In their impatience the time pa.s.sed tediously, and dusk was settling when at last Dan exclaimed:

"There she is! There's th' post!"

Lying back from the sh.o.r.e were the low white buildings of Fort Reliance, a famous post of the Hudson Bay Company. Smoke was rising from its chimneys, and as they looked lights began to flicker in the windows. Behind the post rose rugged, barren hills of storm-scoured rocks. On a flat bit of ground to the westward of the buildings Indian campfires lighted the thickening gloom, and in dark silhouette Indian tepees stood out against the sky line. But despite its austere setting and bleak surroundings, old Fort Reliance appealed to the two expectant, weather-beaten youths as the most attractive haven on earth.

It was quite dark when the bow of their boat finally grated upon the gravelly beach below the post. The landing was deserted, save by skulking, sinister-looking wolf dogs which prowled about, snarling at one another, ever ready to attack the unwary man or beast that fell in their way.

The first flakes of the coming snowstorm were falling as the boys sprang ash.o.r.e and made fast their boat. This secured, they followed a well-beaten path to the door of a long, low building whose cheerfully lighted windows bespoke warmth and comfort within. On the threshold they hesitated for a moment, then Dan knocked boldly upon the door.

"Come in," a voice called.

Paul took the lead, and entering they found themselves in a large square room, lighted by kerosene lamps and heated by a big wood stove which crackled a cheery welcome. Next the walls were several desks, two of them occupied by young men busily engaged with their pens.

"Why, h.e.l.lo," said the one near the door. "I thought it was one of the men. Are you up from York factory?"

"No," answered Paul, "we came from the north. We got lost in the fog, and our s.h.i.+p got away without us." With this introduction he told the story briefly of their experiences. "And," continued he, "we want to put up here until a s.h.i.+p comes for us. I suppose that won't be until next summer, but my father will send it then, and he'll pay your bill."

"You'll have to talk with Mr. MacTavish, the master of the post, about that. He'll be in soon. Sit down."

Presently the door opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered, powerful man, with full gray beard and shrewd eyes, entered. The young man stepped smartly forward.

"These young fellows went adrift from their s.h.i.+p somewhere to the northward, sir," said he. "They've worked their way down here in a small boat, and they want to be put up for the winter."

Paul and Dan had respectfully risen to their feet. Mr. MacTavish's appearance as he surveyed them was anything but rea.s.suring. There was a certain hard look about his eyes and mouth that was repelling. His att.i.tude was not cordial, even before he spoke.

"Do you want to buy provisions?"

"No," answered Paul, "we want to put up here for the winter."

"This isn't a hotel; it's a Hudson Bay trading post. If you want to pitch your tent, one of the men will point you out a good place, and you can buy provisions at the shop."

"But," said Paul, his heart sinking, "we haven't any money," and he proceeded again to relate with detail the story of their adventures.

"My father is rich," he added, "and he'll pay all our expenses when the s.h.i.+p comes for us. You must have heard of him. He is John Densmore, president of the Atlantic and Pacific Steams.h.i.+p Company, and the head of a lot of other big companies."

"I tell you this isn't a hotel, young man, and even if your father is all you say, it's no recommendation to me. I don't like you Americans.

But to be plain, I don't believe your yarn. I know your type. You've deserted from a whaler, and you probably stole the boat you have. I can harbor neither thieves nor deserters," and he turned toward one of the desks in dismissal of them.

For a moment Paul was quite stupefied with the affront. Then his pride and a sense of deep injustice roused his antagonism, and, stepping before the bulky figure of Factor MacTavish, he exclaimed:

"Do you mean to call us deserters and thieves? You're the head of this place and you can do as you want to about giving us a place to stay, but you can't call us thieves and deserters. I want you to understand I'm a gentleman, and I won't be spoken to in this way by one like you."

With this outbreak Paul's lips began to tremble, and he was at the point of tears. Factor MacTavish was taken wholly by surprise. He was accustomed to browbeat and insult the natives and people under him, and none ever ventured a retort. Here was a different type of person.

He had expected a cringing appeal to follow his cruel charge. But instead this youth, placing honor and good name above any consideration of personal comfort and safety, boldly defied him. Here certainly was a youth of spirit and of courage, and he admired the characteristics. The big man looked down at Paul in silent, amused astonishment. This att.i.tude angered Paul almost beyond restraint. His eyes flashed, he doubled his fists, and swallowing his emotion, blurted out:

"I feel like striking you! You're a big coward to speak to two boys that way!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "You are a big coward"]

Dan had until now kept silent. Paul's speech quite dumbfounded him for a moment, but quickly aware that his friend was thoroughly in earnest in the threat, and fearing that he would actually attack the big man, he grabbed Paul's arm and drew him back.

"Don't strike un, Paul! Don't strike un!" Dan exclaimed. "'T will do no good. He knows what he says ain't true, an' we know it ain't true.

Dad says when a feller knows he's right, an' he knows th' Lord knows he's right, it don't matter what folks says or thinks."

Factor MacTavish laughed, and in the laugh was a note of good humor.

The defiance of these two lads scarcely reaching to his shoulder amused him, and he could not but admire the display of courage in the face of odds.

"Well, you've got some s.p.u.n.k, and I like s.p.u.n.k. You may stay over night. It's snowing, and you'd better go to the men's house for tonight. We always put up travelers one night. James," to one of the clerks, "show them the men's house."

"We won't stay a single night unless you take back what you said about our being thieves and deserters," broke in Paul, his defiant att.i.tude unabated. "We're honest, and we're not beggars crawling after you."

"I don't know whether you're honest or not, or anything about you. You may be what you say you are. Now, if you want to accept a night's lodging, it's open to you, and I'll talk to you tomorrow. James, show these boys to the men's house."

"You say you were wrong in calling us thieves?" insisted Paul.

"Perhaps I was. We won't talk about it now," and he turned to one of the desks to put an end to the discussion.

"We'll take that for an apology," said Paul, somewhat mollified.

"Thank you."

James, the clerk, introduced them to the men's house, and presently they had their things under cover, secure from the now heavily falling snow, and ate their supper of cold roast lynx from their own larder, supplemented by a pot of hot tea generously donated by the half-breed Indian cook.