by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER XXII.
GOOD-BYE TO THE "SEA BEE."
White Baldwin was of course interested in this talk of the man-wolf,but he was, at the same time, anxious to hear what the new-comer had tosay concerning the cargo of provisions for which he had so long soughta purchaser. His heart beat high with the hope of a speedy return tohis home and its loved ones; for he had already planned to leave the"Sea Bee" where she was until the following season. In case he coulddispose of her cargo, he would insist that transportation and aguide--at least as far as Indian Harbour--should form part of thebargain. From Indian Harbour they would surely find some way ofcontinuing the journey. He might even reach home by Christmas!Wouldn't it be great if he could, and if, at the same time, he couldcarry with him enough money to relieve all present anxieties? Perhapshe might even be able to take his mother and Cola to St. Johns for along visit. Of course Cabot would accompany them, for with thewarships all gone south for the winter there would be no danger ofarrest, and then he would find out what a splendid city the capital ofNewfoundland really was. Oh! if they could only start at once; but ofcourse there were certain preliminaries to be settled first, and thesooner they got at them the better.
Thus thinking, White took advantage of a pause in the conversation toremark: "What a very fortunate thing it is that you who want topurchase provisions and we who have them for sale should come togetherin this remarkable fashion."
"It is so fortunate and so remarkable that I must regard it as adistinct leading of the Divine Providence that knows our every need andguides our halting footsteps," replied the missionary.
"And do you think," continued the young trader anxiously, "that youwant our entire cargo?"
"I am sure of it; and even then we may be put on short rations beforethe winter is ended, for there are many to be fed."
With this opening the conversation drifted so easily into businessdetails that, before the occupants of the cabin turned in for thenight, everything had been arranged. White had been somewhatdisappointed when the missionary said that, having no funds in St.Johns, he would be obliged to give a sight draft on New York in paymentfor the goods. This slight annoyance was, however, speedily smoothedaway by Cabot, who offered to cash the draft immediately upon theirarrival in St. Johns, where, he said, he had ample funds for thepurpose. It was also agreed that our lads should be provided with furclothing, snowshoes, a dog sledge, and a guide as far as IndianHarbour. In addition to taking the cargo of the "Sea Bee," themissionary proposed to purchase the schooner itself, at a sum much lessthan her real value, but one that constituted a very fair offer underthe circumstances.
White hesitated over this proposition, but finally accepted it uponcondition that at any time during the following summer he should beallowed to buy the schooner back at the same price he now received forher.
"Isn't it fine," he whispered to Cabot, after all hands had soughttheir bunks, "to think that our venture has turned out so splendidlyafter all?"
"Fine is no name for it," rejoined the other. "But I do hope we willhave the chance of meeting Mr. Homolupus once more and of thanking himfor what he has done. We owe so much to him that, man-wolf or noman-wolf, I consider him a splendid fellow."
In spite of their impatience to start southwards, our lads were stillcompelled to spend two weeks longer at Locked Harbour. First themissionary was obliged to make a visit to his station, and, on hisreturn, the snow was not in condition for a long sledge journey.Furious winds had piled it into drifts, with intervening spaces of bareground, over which sledge travel would be impossible. So they mustwait until the autumnal storms were over and winter had settled down inearnest. But, impatient as they were, time no longer hung heavily ontheir hands, nor did they now regard their place of abode as a prison.Its solitude and dreariness had fled before the advent of half ahundred Eskimo--short, squarely built men, moon-faced women, androly-poly children, looking like animated balls of fur, all of whom hadbeen brought from the mission to form a settlement on the beach. Itwas easier to bring them to the Heaven-sent provisions that were tokeep them until spring than it would have been to transport the heavybarrels of flour and pork to the mission. At the same time, they couldprotect the schooner from depredations by other wandering natives.
So they came, bag and baggage, babies, dogs, and all, and at once setto work constructing snug habitations, in which, with plenty of foodand plenty of seal oil, they could live happily and comfortably duringthe long winter months. These structures were neither large norelegant. In fact they were only hovels sunk half underground, with lowstone walls, supporting roofs of whale ribs, covered thick with earth.A little later they would be buried beneath warm, shapeless mounds ofsnow. To most of them outside light and air could only be admittedthrough the low doorways, but one, more pretentious than the others,was provided with an old window sash, in which the place of missingpanes was filled by dried intestines tightly stretched. In every hovela stone lamp filled with seal oil burned night and day, furnishinglight, warmth, and the heat for melting ice into drinking water,boiling tea, drying wet mittens, and doing the family cooking.
Cabot and White were immensely interested in watching the constructionof these primitive Labrador homes. They were also amazed at thereadiness with which the natives made themselves snugly safe andcomfortable, in a place where they had despaired of keeping alive.Besides watching the Eskimo prepare for the winter and picking up manywords of their language, Cabot took daily lessons in snowshoeing andthe management of dog teams, in both of which arts White was already anadept.
According to contract, both lads had been provided with completeoutfits for Arctic travel, including fur clothing, boots, and sleepingbags. A sledge with a fine team of dogs had also been placed at theirdisposal, and an intelligent young Eskimo, who could speak someEnglish, was ready to guide them on their southward journey. He wasintroduced to his future travelling companions as Ildlat-Netschillik,whereupon Cabot remarked:
"That is an elegant name for special occasions, such as might occuronce or twice in a lifetime, but seems to me something less ornamental,like 'Jim,' for instance, would be better for everyday use. I wonderif he would mind being called Jim?"
On being asked this question the young Eskimo, grinning broadly, said:
"A' yite. Yim plenty goot," and afterwards he always answered promptlyand cheerfully to the name of "Yim."
"Yim."]
At length snow fell for several days almost without intermission. Thena fierce wind took it in hand, kneading it, packing it, and stuffing itinto every crack and cranny of the landscape until hollows were filled,ridges were nicely rounded, and rocks had disappeared. In themeantime, strong white bridges had been thrown across lake and stream,and the great Labrador highway for winter travel was formally opened tothe public.
November was well advanced, and our lads had been prisoners in LockedHarbour for more than two months when this way of escape was opened tothem. It had been decided that they should take a single large sledge,having broad runners, and a double team of dogs--ten in all. On this,therefore, was finally lashed a great load of provisions, frozen walrusmeat for dog food, sleeping bags, the three all-important cookingutensils of the wilderness--kettle, fry-pan, and teapot--an axe, andCabot's bag of specimens. With this outfit Yim was to conduct themover the first half of their 400-mile journey, or to Indian Harbour,where, through a letter from the missionary, they expected to procure afresh team, renew their supply of provisions, and obtain another guide,who should go with them to Battle Harbour.
When the time for starting arrived, the entire population of the newsettlement turned out to see them off and help get their heavily ladensledge up the steep ascent from the beach. At the crest of the bluffsthe men fired a parting salute from their smooth-bore guns, the womenand children uttered shrill cries of farewell, and the missionary gavethem his final blessing, Yim cracked his eighteen-foot whiplash like apistol shot, shouted to his dogs, and the yelping team sprang forward.Our lads g
ave a fond backward glance at their loved schooner, so farbelow them that she looked like a toy boat, and then, with hearts toofull for words, they faced the vast white wilderness outspread like afrozen sea before them.
All that day they pushed steadily forward almost without a pause,holding a westerly course to pass around a deep fiord that penetratedfar inland, and might not yet be crossed with safety. Yim ran besidehis straining dogs, encouraging the laggards with whip and voice; Whiteled the way and broke the trail, while Cabot brought up the rear andhelped the sledge over difficult places.
For several hours they followed the signal line with its flutteringflags, and felt that they were still on familiar ground. At lengtheven these were left behind, and for three hours longer they ploddedsturdily forward, guided only by Yim's unerring instinct. Then theshort day came to an end and night descended with a chill breath ofbitter winds. Cabot was nearly exhausted, and even White was painfullyweary, but both had been buoyed up by a hope that they might reachtimber and have abundant firewood for their first camp. Now, when Yim,throwing down his whip and giving his dogs the command to halt, calmlyannounced that they would make camp where they were, both lads lookedat him in dismay.
"We surely can't camp here in the snow without a fire or any kind ofshelter!" exclaimed Cabot. "Why, man, we'll be frozen stiff longbefore morning."
"A' yite. Me fix um. You see," responded Yim, cheerfully.