Ungava

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

  EFFECT OF SNOW ON THE FEELINGS, NOT TO MENTION THE LANDSCAPE--AWONDERFUL DOME OF ICE.

  There are times and seasons, in this peculiar world of ours, when theheart of man rejoices. The rejoicing to which we refer is not of theordinary kind. It is peculiar; and, whether its duration be long orshort, its effect powerful or slight, it is quite distinct and emphatic.We do not intend to enter into a detail of the occasions that callforth this feeling of exultation. Far be it from us to venture intosuch perilous depths of philosophy. Our sole reason for making thesepreliminary observations is, that we may, with proper emphasis,introduce the statement, that one of these occasions of rejoicing is,when man arises from his couch, on a brilliant, sunny, sparklingmorning, gazes forth from his window, and beholds the landscape--whichyesterday was green, and red, and brown, and blue--clad in a soft mantleof whitest snow!

  What! you don't agree with us? You shudder at the preposterous idea ofsuch a sight being fitted to rejoice the heart of man in any degreewhatever? Well, well; do not sneer at our weakness. If we cannotsympathise with each other on this subject, perchance there are otherthings in which we can. But whatever be _our_ opinion in regard tothis, the point that we have to deal with at present is, the opinion ofEdith Stanley, who, on rising hastily one morning, and looking forthfrom her little window, evinced the rejoicing of her heart mostemphatically, by her loud exclamation of delight and the sparkling ofher bright blue eyes.

  Independently of the cheerful lightness and the virgin purity of themantle, which in itself tended to awaken emotions of gladness in Edith'sheart, there was something in its sudden appearance that carried herback violently and vividly to bygone days. The winter garb had noassociations, yet, with Ungava; but it had with Moose Fort, and the dearcompanions she used to play with there. It recalled the time when sheand her little friends sallied forth, each with her small wooden sledgedrawn after her by a line, to slide thereon down the banks of the frozenriver with headlong speed, and upset at the bottom amid shouts oflaughter. It recalled the time when she made the first attempt to walkin snow-shoes, upon which occasion she tripped and fell into the snow,as a matter of course, and was advised to wait till she was older. Itrecalled the memory of her father's team of dogs, and the delightfuldrives she used to have over the frozen river; which drives oftenresulted in an upset, perhaps several, and always resulted in fun. Itrecalled the house in the old fort that used to be her home; the row ofhouses belonging to the men, to which she often went, and was alwayswelcomed as a great favourite; the water-hole on the river from whichthe old Canadian drew his daily supply; and the snow-house in the yardwhich she built in company with Frank Morton, and which stood the wholewinter through, but gave way at last before the blazing sun of spring,and fell--as ill luck would have it--when she and Chimo were sittingthere, so that she and the dog together had a hard struggle ere they gotfree. All these, and many more thick-coming memories of other days,were aroused by the vision of snow that met Edith's gaze that morning,and caused her heart with peculiar fervour to rejoice.

  Winter had now descended with iron grasp upon Ungava. For some weeksthe frost had been so intense that every lake and pool was frozen manyinches thick, and the salt bay itself was fringed with a thick andever-accumulating mass of ice. The snow which now fell was but theceremonial coronation of a king whose reign had commenced in realitylong before.

  But the sunshine did not last long. The rolling fogs and vapours of theopen and ice-laden sea beyond ascended over the wild mountains, obscuredthe bright sky, and revealed the winter of the north in all its stern,cold reality. Every cliff and crag and jagged peak had its crown ofsnow, and every corrie, glen, and gorge its drifted shroud. In placeswhere the precipices were perpendicular, the grey rocks of the mountainsformed dark blotches in the picture; but, dark although they were, theydid not equal in blackness the river, on which floated hundreds ofmasses of ice and several ponderous icebergs, which had been carried upfrom the sea by the flood-tide. Over this inky expanse the frost-smokehung like a leaden pall--an evil spirit, as it were, which never leftthe spot till protracted and intense frost closed the waters of theriver altogether, and banished it farther out to sea. But this entireclosing of the river very seldom happened, and never lasted long.

  Fort Chimo itself, at least as much of it as remained unburied, was amere speck on the edge of the white plain at the mountain's foot, scarcedistinguishable, at a short distance, from the straggling black pinesand willow bushes that seemed thrust out into the waste from the ravinesabove and below the fort. But on a nearer approach, the fort assumed anair of greater importance; the influences, too, of the cold, cheerlessscene we have described, were broken and dissipated by the sights ofcomfort and sounds of cheerfulness within. The shout of thewater-drawer, as he roused the dogs and went forth with his empty cask,hauled on a little sledge, to draw from the bubbling spring behind thefort; the sounds of the hammer, the chisel, and the axe, in thecarpenter's shop; the merry clank of Bryan's hammer, and the brightflame that gleamed from the window of the forge,--all bore evidence ofthe fact, that however powerful the influence of winter might bewithout, it had little power within the wooden walls of Fort Chimo, andcould not check the life, or heart, or industry of man.

  The only other human being visible in the open air, besides thewater-drawer, was La Roche, who, with a fur cap covering his head andears, and leathern mittens on his hands, hewed and hacked the billetswith which he purposed to replenish the fire for cooking the mid-daymeal.

  Pausing in his labour, and dusting off the hoar-frost that covered hiseyebrows and whiskers, he looked at the edge of his hatchet for a fewseconds with an expression of contempt. Then, throwing the implement onhis shoulder, he crossed the yard and entered the blacksmith's shop.

  "Bryan," said he, seating himself on the edge of the forge and fillinghis pipe, while Vulcan's votary scattered a shower of gems from awhite-hot bar of iron at every blow of his hammer--"Bryan, you no fitfor not'ing. Dat axe is blont encore. Oui, c'est vrai. Now dat istres mal. How you not can temper him edge better?"

  "Timper it better, is it?" answered Bryan, putting the iron bar in thefire, and regarding his companion earnestly while he blew the bellows."Faix, 'tis mysilf I'd need to timper better, in order to put up wi' thelikes o' you, ye wretched crature. How can ye expict it to kape itsidge when ye lave it for iver lyin' among yer pots and kittles?"

  "Dat is not it," replied La Roche, applying a glowing coal to his pipe."'Tis de mauvais steel. But I not com for to fight wid you. Yourtongue trop long pour dat. I com for ax you to give me turn ov degrindstone, s'il vous plait."

  "Ye don't desarve it, Losh; but wait till I've finished this job andI'll lind ye a hand."

  "Be-the-bye," resumed Bryan, when the metal was cooled, "has Francoisfinished that sled for Miss Edith?"

  "Oui," replied La Roche, seating himself at the grindstone. "(Ah! pas sivite, a leet more slow, Bryan.) Oui, him make it all ready; only wantde ring-bolts."

  "Thin it won't want thim long. Ye can take thim over to the shop whenye go across. There they are on the binch."

  Bryan continued to turn the handle of the stone for some time insilence.

  "D'ye know, Losh," he resumed, "whin Mister Frank is goin' to thefishery?"

  "He go demain, I b'lieve, and Mademoiselle Edith go too."

  "None o' the min goin'?" inquired the blacksmith.

  "Non. Monsieur Frank just go for to try if dere be any fish to be cotchby de hook; and I t'ink he go more for to give Edith one drive dan dat."

  "Very likely, Losh. The poor purty little crature. She's very fond o'sledgin' and walkin' in snow-shoes. 'Tis well for her, bekase there's awant o' companions for her here intirely."

  "Ah! mercy, dat is superb, magnifique!" said the Frenchman, feeling theedge of the axe with his thumb. "It sharp 'nuff to shave de hair offyour ogly face, Bryan."

  "Thin be off wid ye, an' don't kape me longer from my work. An' shutt
he door quick behind ye; there's cowld enough in the place already."

  So saying, Bryan resumed his hammer, and La Roche, following thesnow-track across the yard, recommenced his labour of chopping firewood.

  Next day, Frank and Edith made preparations for the excursion alluded toin the foregoing conversation.

  The object for which this excursion was undertaken was twofold--first,to ascertain if there were any fish in a large lake about ten milesdistant from the fort; and, secondly, to give little Edith a drive forthe good of her health. Not that her health was bad, but several weeksof bad weather had confined her much to the house, and her motherthought the change would be beneficial and agreeable; and tenderly didthat mother's heart yearn over her little child, for she felt that,although she was all to Edith that a mother could be, nature hadimplanted in her daughter's mind a longing desire for the companionshipof little ones of her own age, which could not be satisfied by anysubstitute--not even that of a tender mother, who sought, by all themeans in her power, to become a child again for Edith's sake.

  Immediately after breakfast that day Frank took Edith by the hand, andled her round by the back of the fort, towards the kennel where the dogswere kept, intending to release Chimo, who was to have the honour ofhauling the sledge of his young mistress. In passing the spring, Edithpaused, as she had often done before during the winter, to gaze withwonder on the transformation that had taken place in the appearance ofthe once green and fertile spot. Not only was it covered with deepsnow, but over the spring there was formed a singular dome of ice. Thisdome was a subject of continual astonishment to every one at Ungava. Ithad commenced to rise soon after the first hard frosts had sealed up thelittle fountain from the open air. As time passed by, the coveringbecame thick ice, and was bulged gradually up above the surroundingwaste, until it reached an elevation of not much less than twelve orthirteen feet. Inside of this the spring bubbled up as of yore.

  "What think you, Edith?" said Frank, as a sudden thought occurred tohim; "shall I cut a doorway into that crystal house, and see if thespirit of the spring dwells there?"

  Edith clapped her hands with delight at the idea, and urged hercompanion to begin at once. Then, checking him as he was about tocommence the work with his hatchet, she said earnestly--

  "Do spirits really dwell in the springs, Frank?"

  "Why, Eda, we must send to England for a lot of fairy tales to teach youwhat I mean. I do but jest when I speak of spirits living there. Butmany books, have been written about pretended spirits and fairies, whichtell us of their wonderful adventures, and what they said and did longago. I shall tell you some of these stories one of these days. But Idaresay there are no spirits in this spring."

  "Faix, an' it would be a rale misfortune if there was, sir," remarkedBryan, who came up at this moment, and touched his cap; "for it would beonly sperits and wather, which wouldn't kape in this cowld climate.I've finished the ring-bolts for the sled, sir, an' came to see when yewould have them fixed."

  "Put them in your pocket, Bryan, for a few minutes, and lend a hand hereto cut a hole through this dome."

  As Frank spoke, he drew a small axe from his belt, and began to layabout him so vigorously that the icy splinters flew in all directionslike a shower of broken crystal. Bryan seconded his efforts, and inless than half an hour a block of solid ice, about four feet high andtwo broad, was cut out and detached from the side of the dome.

  "That'll do, Bryan," said Frank, when their work was nearly completed;"I'll finish it myself now. Go to the carpenter's house, and Francoiswill show you what to do with the sled."

  As Bryan walked away, Frank dealt the mass of ice a blow that split itinto several pieces, which he quickly removed, revealing to theastonished and eager gaze of his young companion a cavern of a mostbeautiful light blue colour. Taking Edith by the hand, he led her intothis icy cave. Its walls were quite luminous and delicately blue,except in places where the green moss and earth around the spring hadbeen torn from the ground and lifted up along with the dome. Icicleshung in various places from the roof, and the floor was hard and dry,except in the centre, where the spring bubbled up through it, and cut achannel across towards one side of the icy wall, where it disappearedunder the snow.

  "Oh, what a beautiful palace!" cried Edith, with delight, after she hadgazed around her for a few minutes in silent wonder and admiration. "Ishall come and live here, Frank. Oh! do come, and let us get chairs anda small table, and make it our sitting-room. We can come every day whenthe sun shines and read, or you can tell me the tales about spirits andfairies you spoke of!"

  "A good idea, Eda; but I fear we would need a stove to keep us warm. Itstrikes me it will make a capital ice-house in spring to keep our freshmeat in. It will last long after the snow is melted."

  "Then we shall make a palace of it in winter and a meat-store inspring," cried Edith, laughing, as she walked round thisnewly-discovered house, examining its blue walls and peeping into thecold black spring. Meanwhile Frank examined it with a view to theutilitarian purpose, and, after both of them had gone round it severaltimes, they continued on their way towards the dog-kennel.

  The sledge which Francois had constructed for Edith was made after themodel of those used by the Esquimaux. There were two stout runners, orskates, made of wood, for sliding over the snow. These were slightlyturned up, or rather _rounded_ up, in front, and attached to each otherby means of cross bars and thin planks of wood; all of which werefastened, not by nails (for iron-work snaps like glass in such a coldclimate as that of Ungava), but by thongs of undressed sealskin, which,although they held the fabric very loosely together in appearance, were,nevertheless, remarkably strong, and served their purpose very well.Two short upright bars behind served as a back to lean against. But themost curious part of the machine was the substance with which therunners were shod, in order to preserve them. This was a preparation ofmud and water, which was plastered smoothly on in a soft condition, andthen allowed to freeze. This it did in a few minutes after beingexposed to the open air, and thus became a smooth, hard sheathing, whichwas much more durable and less liable to break than iron, or indeed anyother sheathing that could be devised. This substance is, of course,easily repaired, and is always used by the Esquimaux in winter.

  Esquimau sledges being heavy, and meant for carrying a number of people,require large teams of dogs. But Edith's sledge--or sled, as the mencalled it--was little. Moreover, Edith herself was little and light,therefore Chimo was deemed sufficiently powerful to draw it. Sothoroughly correct were they in this supposition, that when Edith wasseated in her sledge for a trial trip, and Chimo harnessed, he ran awaywith her and gave Frank a chase of half a mile over the river ere hecondescended to stop in his wild career.

  But the intended excursion was suddenly interrupted and postponed, by anevent which we shall relate in the next chapter.