Under the Great Bear

by Kirk Munroe

  CHAPTER XVI.

  MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH.

  While Cabot gazed eagerly at the lofty but still distant coast towardswhich all their hopes were now directed, his companion was castinganxious glances to the eastward, where a low hanging bank of cloudbetokened an advancing fog. He had good reason to be apprehensive, forthis northern entrance to the gulf of St. Lawrence forms the shortestroute for steamers plying between Canadian and European ports.Consequently many of them use it during the brief summer season when itis free from ice. At the same time it is a stormy stretch of water,tormented by powerful currents, and generally shrouded in fog.

  Early in the season countless icebergs, borne southward by the Arcticcurrent that hugs the Labrador coast, drift aimlessly over its troubledsurface, and even at midsummer it is a passage to be dreaded. White,being familiar with its many dangers, had good cause for anxiety, as hesaw one of them about to enfold his little craft. He consulted thecompass, took his bearings with the utmost care, and then as Cabot,finding his view obscured, turned to him with a look of inquiry,remarked:

  "Yes, we are in for it, and you'd better keep a sharp lookout forsteamers. It wouldn't be very pleasant to run one down and sink it,you know."

  "I should say not," responded Cabot as he started for the bow of theschooner, where, steadying himself by a stay, he peered into thethickening mist curtain. For half an hour or so he saw nothing, thoughduring that time the hoarse bellowing of a steam whistle, approachingclosely and then receding, told of a passing ship. While the lookoutwas still listening to this a black form, magnified to gigantic size byhis apprehensions and the opaqueness through which he saw it, loomed updirectly ahead and apparently not a rod away. With a sharp cry ofwarning the lad sprang aft, while a yell of dismay came from thestranger. The next moment, both vessels having been headed sharplyinto the wind, lay side by side, heaving and grinding against eachother, with their sails slatting noisily overhead.

  As our lads realised the true character of the other craft, they wereready to laugh at their fright of a minute earlier, for she was only anopen fishing boat, carrying three men, a woman, and a couple ofchildren.

  "We took ye for a steamer, first sight," remarked one of the men.

  "And we did the same by you," laughed White. "Who are you and whereare you bound?"

  "Mail boat from L'Anse Au Loup for Flower Cove," replied the man, "andas we're not sure of our compass we'd be obleeged if you'd give us abearing."

  "With pleasure. Come aboard and take it for yourself. If you'll waitjust a minute I'll have a letter ready for you."

  So saying the young skipper dived below and hastily pencilled a line tohis mother, telling of their safety up to that time.

  While he was thus engaged Cabot learned that owing to the recentarrival of a steamer from St. Johns provisions were plentiful on thatpart of the Labrador coast, but were believed to be scarce furthernorth.

  As a result of this information the "Sea Bee" was headed more to theeastward after the boats had again parted company, for, as White said,there was no use wasting time running in to Blanc Sablon, Forteau, orany of those places at which the trading steamer had touched. "It istoo bad," he continued, "for I did hope to dispose of our cargosomewhere along here. If we could do that we might be home againinside of ten days. Now, if we have to go far to the northward, it maybe two or three weeks longer before we again sight Blomidon."

  "I am sorry for your sake," replied Cabot, "though I would just as soonspend a month up here as not. I only wish we could land somewherealong here, for I am curious to see what land of a country Labrador is."

  This wish was gratified late that afternoon, when the fog lifted intime to disclose the fine harbour of Red Bay, into which, White said,they would run, so as to spend the night quietly at anchor, with bothwatches turned in at once.

  At Red Bay, therefore, Cabot had his first taste of life in Labrador.The shores looked so green and attractive that he wondered why the onlysettlement in sight--a collection of a dozen huts and fish houses,should be located on a rocky islet, bare and verdureless. He askedWhite, who only laughed, and said he'd find out soon enough byexperience.

  After they had come to anchor and lowered the sails, White got an emptywater cask into the dinghy, saying that first of all they must go abouta mile to a trout stream at the head of the bay for some fresh water.

  "Trout stream!" cited Cabot. "How I wish I had my fishing tackle.Trout for supper would be fine."

  "There are other things equally important with tackle for trout fishingin this country," remarked White.

  "What, for instance?"

  "You'll know inside of half an hour," was the significant reply.

  So they rowed up the bay, Cabot filled with curiosity and Whitechuckling with anticipation. The further they went the more was Cabotcharmed with the beauty of the scene and the more desirous did hebecome to ramble over the green slopes on which, as White assured him,delicious berries of several varieties were plentiful. At length theyopened a charming valley, through which wound and tumbled a sparklingbrook thickly bordered by alders and birches. At one side were severalsubstantial log cabins, but as they were evidently uninhabited Cabotbegan to undress, declaring that he must have a bath in that temptingwater.

  "Better keep your shirt on until we have filled the cask," advisedWhite, at the same time stepping overboard in the shallows at the mouthof the stream without removing any of his clothing. They pulled theboat up until it grounded, and then White began hurriedly to fill thewater barrel, while Cabot waded a short distance up stream to see if hecould discover any trout. All at once he stopped, looked bewildered,and then started back on a run. At the same time he slapped vigorouslyat his bare legs, brushed his face, waved his arms, and utteredexclamations of frantic dismay. The air about him had been suddenlyblackened by an incredible swarm of insects that issued in dense cloudsfrom the low growth bordering the stream, and attacked the unfortunateyouth with the fury of starvation.

  "What's the matter?" inquired White innocently, as his companion rushedpast him towards the open.

  "Matter!" retorted the other. "I'm on fire with the bites of theseinfernal things, and we want to get out of here in a hurry or they'llsting us to death."

  "Oh, pshaw!" laughed White, though he also was suffering greatly."You've only struck a few ordinary Labrador mosquitoes and black flies."

  "Mosquitoes and black flies!" cried Cabot. "Hornets and red-hot coals,you'd better say. How can you stand them? Your skin must be thickerthan sole leather."

  "I can't very well," admitted White, "but this cask has got to befilled, and the sooner we do it the quicker we can get away. Break offa couple of leafy branches to fight with and then keep 'em off both ofus as well as you can. It will only take a few minutes longer."

  In spite of their efforts at self-defence, faces, hands, and Cabot'sbare legs were covered with blood before their task was completed, andthey were once more in the boat pulling furiously for the wind-sweptwater of the open bay.

  "I never expected to find mosquitoes this far north," said Cabot, asthe pests began to disappear before the freshening breeze and therowers paused for breath.

  "Strangers are apt to be unpleasantly surprised by them," repliedWhite, "but they are here all the same, and they extend as far north asany white man has ever been. I have been told that they are as bad inGreenland as here, and I expect they flourish at the North Pole itself.They certainly are the curse of Labrador, and until ice makes in thefall they effectually prevent all travel into the interior. Even theIndians have to come to the coast in summer to escape them, while thewhites who visit this country for the fishing make their settlements onthe barest and most wind-swept places. The few who live here the yearround have summer homes on the coast, but build their winter housesinland, at the heads of bays or the mouths of rivers, where there istimber to afford some protection from the cold. Those are winterhouses back there."

  "I wondered why they were abandoned,"
said Cabot, "but I don't anylonger."

  "By the way," suggested White, "you forgot to try the trout fishing.Shall we go back?"

  "I wouldn't go fishing on that stream if every trout in it was of solidgold and I could scoop them out with my hands," asserted Cabot. "Infact, I don't know of anything short of starvation, or dying of thirst,that would take me back there."

  After supper our lads went ashore at the island settlement, and werehospitably received by the dwellers in its half-dozen stoutly built,earthen-roofed houses. These were constructed of logs, set on end likepalisades, and while they were scantily furnished, they were warm andcomfortable. In them Cabot, who was regarded with great curiosity onaccount of having come from the far foreign city of New York, askedmany questions, and acquired much information concerning the strangecountry to which Fate had brought him. Thus he learned that Labradoris a province of Newfoundland, and that while its prolific fisheriesattract some 20,000 people to its bleak shores every summer, its entireresident white population hardly exceeds one thousand souls. He wastold that from June to October news of the outside world is received bysteamer from St. Johns every two or three weeks, but that during theother eight months of the year only three mails reach the country,coming by dog sledge from far-away Quebec.

  While Cabot was gathering these and many other interesting bits ofinformation, White was becoming confirmed in his belief that to make asuccessful trading trip he must carry his goods far to the northward.

  So at daybreak of the following morning the "Sea Bee" was once more gotunder way, and ran up the rock-bound coast past Chateau Bay, with itssuperb Castle Rock, to Battle Harbour, the metropolis of Labrador,which place was reached late the same evening.

  At this point, which is at the eastern end of the Belle Isle Strait, isa resident population of some two hundred souls, a hospital, a church,a schoolhouse, and a prosperous mercantile establishment. Here ourlads found a large steamer loading with dried fish for Gibraltar, andhere Cabot became greatly interested in the rose-tinted quartz thatforms so striking a feature of Labrador scenery.

  At Battle Harbour they were still advised to push farther on, and so,bidding farewell to this outpost of civilisation, the "Sea Bee" againspread her dusky wings and set forth for the mission stations of thefar North, where it was hoped a profitable market might be found.