CHAPTER XXXII
_In Which Archie Armstrong and Billy Topsail Say Good-bye to Toby Farr for the Present, and, Bound Down to Our Harbour with Doctor Luke, Enter Into an Arrangement, From Which Issues the Discovery of a Mysterious Letter and Sixty Seconds of Cold Thrill_
What happened next was the astonishing meeting of Archie Armstrong andBilly Topsail in Tom Lute's cottage on Amen Island. The rising blast ofwind that threatened to interrupt Doctor Luke's passage of Ship's Run,and thus cost Terry Lute the "fiddle finger" he cherished, so dealt withthe floe, at sea, where the men of the _Rough and Tumble_ were at work,that Archie was cut off from return to the ship. At first the adventurewore a grave appearance; but Archie knew the coast, and was aware, also,that the land near which the _Rough and Tumble_ had debarked her crew inthe morning was the land of Amen Island.
That there was an hospitable settlement on Amen Island, Cap'n Saul hadtold him. It was towards Amen Island, then, that his endeavour wasdirected, when the shifting ice cut him off from the ship and duskcaught him on the floe. And he had no great difficulty in making theshore. The floe, in the grip of the wind, drifted towards the land andcame in contact with it before night fell.
Archie had a long, stumbling search for the cottages of Amen. That wasthe most trying aspect of his experience. In the end, however, prettywell worn out, but triumphant, he caught sight of the light in TomLute's cottage; and he knocked on the door and pushed into the kitchenjust when Doctor Luke, having lanced Terry Lute's finger, and havingbeen informed that Terry Lute's fiddle was a jew's-harp, had joinedBilly Topsail in the hearty laughter that the amazing disclosureexcited.
It was late then. Archie and Billy and Doctor Luke were all feeling theeffect of the physical labour of that stormy night; and when Billy andArchie had exchanged news in sufficient measure to ease their curiosity,and when Doctor Luke and Archie, who were old friends, had accomplishedthe same satisfying end, and Black Walt and his assistant had departed,and when Terry Lute and Tom Lute and Terry Lute's mother had recoveredfrom their delight, the simple household turned in to sleep as best itcould.
In the morning--which means almost immediately after dawn--ArchieArmstrong insisted upon his own way. And his own way was happy andacceptable. The _Rough and Tumble_ lay offshore. She was within sightfrom the window of Tom Lute's cottage. Undoubtedly Cap'n Saul had asearching party--probably the whole crew-out after Archie Armstrong; andundoubtedly the old man was in a fever and fury of anxiety--a fury ofanxiety because, no great wind having blown, and the ice having beendriven against the coast, his alarm for Archie's safety need not begreat, whereas the delay caused by Archie's misadventure would surelyarouse a furious impatience.
Consequently Archie sought to relieve both his anxiety and hisimpatience; and to this end he set out over the ice, with Billy Topsailand Doctor Luke, to board the _Rough and Tumble_, where Billy Topsailwas wanting to shake the hand of his old friend, Bill o' Burnt Bay, andArchie was eager to have Doctor Luke "inspect" Toby Farr and hisgrandfather. It was in Archie's mind to "make a man" of Toby.
"Cap'n Saul," said Archie, by and by, "will you be sailing to thes'uth'ard?"
"A mad question!" Cap'n Saul growled.
"Yes; but, sir----"
"Isn't you got no sense at all? How can I tell where the ice will go?"
Archie grinned.
"It wasn't very bright, sir," he admitted. "Still, Cap'n Saul, is thereany chance----"
"Why?"
"I want to go down with Doctor Luke, sir, to Our Harbour. But I don'twant to be left on the coast until the mail-boat comes north. If youthink you _might_ be in the neighbourhood of Our Harbour, and could senda boat ashore for me, sir, I'll take a chance."
"I might," Cap'n Saul replied. "An' the way the ice sets, I think Iwill. Will that do ye?"
"It will, sir!"
"If the ice goes t' sea----"
"You'll leave me. I understand that."
"I'll leave ye like a rat!"
Archie laughed.
"Billy," said he, gleefully, "I'll go south with you!" And to Cap'nSaul: "How long will you give me, sir?"
"I'll give you a week."
"Make it ten days, sir?"
"Archie," Cap'n Saul replied, "I thought you was a b'y o' some sense.How can I say a week or ten days? I'll pick you up if I can. An' that'sall I'll say. What I'm here for is _swiles_. An' swiles I'll have, b'y,no matter whether you're left on the coast or not."
Archie flushed.
"Cap'n Saul, sir," said he, "I beg pardon. You see, sir, I--I----"
Cap'n Saul clapped him on the back.
"Archie, b'y," said he, putting an arm over the boy's shoulder, "I'llpick you up if I can. An' if I can't"--Cap'n Saul accomplished a heavywink--"there'll be some good reason why I don't. Now, you mark me!"
Upon that understanding Archie packed a seaman's bag and went back toAmen Island with Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail. First, however, he shookthe hand of Bill o' Burnt Bay, and shook the hand of Toby Farr, andshook the hand of Jonathan Farr. And Billy Topsail shook hands withthem all, too. Billy Topsail liked the quality of Toby Farr. They wereto go through a gale of wind together--Archie and Billy and Bill andJonathan and little Toby Farr. And Billy and Archie were to learn moreof the quality of Toby Farr--to stand awed in the presence of thecourage and nobility of Jonathan Farr.
* * * * *
Thus it came about that Doctor Luke, Billy Topsail and Archie Armstrong,near dusk, two days later, drove Doctor Luke's dogs intoBread-and-Butter Tickle, on the way south to Doctor Luke's hospital atOur Harbour. There was sickness near by--at Round Cove and ExplosionBight; and as Doctor Luke was in haste, he was in something of aquandary. Doctor Luke's solution and immediate decision were sufficient.
Billy Topsail was to carry medicine and directions, especiallydirections, which had a good deal to do with the virtues of fresh air,to ease the slight trouble at Explosion Bight, and Doctor Luke wouldhimself attend to the serious case at Round Cove, setting off at onceand returning before noon of the next day, all being well.
Billy's errand was the longer; it might be two or three days before hecould get back--Explosion Bight lay beyond Poor Luck Barrens--but at anyrate a start for Our Harbour would be made as soon as he got back. Asfor Archie Armstrong, he was to kick his heels and feed the dogs atBread-and-Butter Tickle--a prospect that he did not greatly enjoy, butwas disposed to make the best of. As it turned out, the issue of thewhole arrangement gave him sixty seconds of thrill that he will neverforget.
In the operation of the plan, returning from Explosion Bight, where hehad executed his directions, dusk of a scowling day caught Billy Topsailon the edge of the woods. And that was a grave matter--Billy Topsail wasin driven haste. As the white wilderness day had drawn on, from a drabdawn to a blinding noon, and from noon to the drear, frosty approach ofnight, the impression of urgency, in the mystery that troubled him, grewlarge and whipped him faster.
When he loped from the timber into the wind, high above the sea, he wasdog-tired and breathless. It was offshore weather then; a black nightthreatened; it was blowing in tepid gray gusts from the southwest; aflutter of wet snow was in the gale. In the pool of ghostly, leadendark, below Spear Rock, of Yellow Head, the ice of Skeleton Arm waswrenched from the coast; and with an accumulation of Arctic bergs anddrift-pans, blown in by the last nor'easter, it was sluggishly movinginto the black shadows of the open sea. And having observed thecatastrophe, in a swift, sweeping flash, Billy Topsail stopped dead onthe ridge of Spear Rock, dismayed and confounded.
To camp on Spear Rock was no incident of his dogged intention.
Bread-and-Butter Tickle, to which a persistent, feverish impression ofurgency, divined from the puzzling character of the incident of thenight before, had driven Billy Topsail since the drab dawn of that day,lay across the darkening reaches of Skeleton Arm. In the snug basin,beyond the heads of the narrows, the lamps were lighted in the cottagesof the place. It was a twinkling, beckonin
g hospitality; it invitedBilly Topsail to supper and to bed--to the conclusion of his haste andto the relief of his mystification.
But on the Labrador coast, as elsewhere, the longest way round is oftenthe shortest way home. It was two miles across Skeleton Arm toBread-and-Butter Tickle, on a direct line from Spear Head; it was fourmiles alongshore to Rattle Water Inlet, at the head of Skeleton Arm, andeight from Rattle Water to the lights of Bread-and-Butter. Billy Topsailreflected upon the discrepancy--the flurry of snow, too, and the swiftapproach and thick quality of the night; and having surveyed the ice,the fragments of which seemed still to be sufficiently in contact forcrossing, he clambered down Spear Head to the shore of the sea.
"Can I cross?" he wondered.
After further reflection:
"I don't know," he concluded.
What mystified Billy Topsail, and drove and challenged him, as he hadnever been mystified and driven and challenged before, was a letter.Billy Topsail had come through the scrub timber and barrens beyond thefirst wild hills of Long-Age Inlet; and having came to the fork in thetrail from Run-By-Guess to Poor Luck Barrens, where he was to camp forthe night, he had been confronted by a new-cut stick, stoutly upright inthe snow of the trail, and a flutter of red flannel rag, and a letter,snapped in the cleft head of the stick.
That the solitary wilderness of his journey should be so concerned withthe outport world of that coast as to produce a letter was amazing; andthat the letter should present itself, in the nick of time, where,probably, no other traveller except the mail-man had passed since thefirst snow fell, and that a fluttering flannel rag should declare itswhereabouts, as though confidently beseeching instant conveyance to itsdestination, was more stimulating to Billy Topsail's reflection thanmere amazement could be.
"Now," thought he, "what's this?"
It was darkly, vitally mysterious.
"'Tis the queerest thing ever I knowed!"
The letter was a folded brown paper, sealed tight, doubtless with apaste of flour and water; and it was inscribed in an illiterate scrawl:BREDNBUTR--which Billy Topsail had the wit to decipher at once.Bread-and-Butter--nobody in particular at Bread-and-Butter; anybody atall at Bread-and-Butter. Need was signified; haste was besought--aletter in a cleft stick, left to do its own errand, served by its ownresources, with a fluttering red flannel rag to arrest and entreat thetraveller.
Obviously it was intended for the mail-man. But the mail-man, old BobLikely, with his long round--the mail-man, where was he? Billy Topsaildid not open the letter; it was sealed--it was an inviolate mystery.Fingering it, scrutinizing it, in astonished curiosity, he reflected,however, upon the coincidence of its immediate discovery--the trackswere fresh in the snow and the brown paper was not yet weather-stained;and so remarkable did the coincidence appear that he was presentlyobsessed with the impulse to fulfill it.
He pushed back his cap in bewilderment.
"Jus' seems t' me," he reflected, gravely, "as if I was _meant_ t' comealong an' find this letter."
It was, truly, a moving coincidence.
"I ought t' be shot," Billy Topsail determined, "if I doesn't get thishere letter t' Bread-and-Butter the morrow night!"
Billy Topsail, M.D.: A Tale of Adventure With Doctor Luke of the Labrador Page 34