action in the very act of springing,and well for the captain he did. He swerved aside, and was shot not tworifle lengths away. This little incident taught our heroes caution, andthe great danger of rushing into spruce thickets, where a wild beast hasall the odds against the hunter, being used to the dim light under thecool green boughs. The Skye was in his glory. He had become quite alittle adept at leg-biting, and here was a splendid field for thedisplay of his skill, and he certainly made the best of it, for overtwenty skins were bagged in less than three hours.
The days were getting short, and even cold, so they had to go early tocamp. The skins of the day would be stretched and cleaned, and wellrubbed with a composition made by Seth's own hands. Then they would, atthe end of the big shoot, be taken on board and undergo furthertreatment before being carefully put away in the hold.
The camp-kettle was an invention of McBain's. It was, indeed, a _multumin parvo_, for in it could be stored not only the saucepans and afrying-pan, but the plates, and knives and forks, and spoons, and eventhe saucers and salt. Seth was cook, and when I have told you that, itis a waste of ink to say that about dinner-time a wolf or two wouldgenerally drop round. They would not come too near, but would standwell down to leeward, sniffing all the fragrance they could, smackingtheir lips and licking their chops in the most comical way imaginable.This was what Rory called "dining on the cheap." After dinner it wasvery pleasant, rolled in Highland plaids, to lounge around the camp firefor an hour or two before turning in. What wonderful stories of atrapper's life Seth used to tell them, and with what rapt attention Roryused to listen to them.
"Wherein he spake of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hair-breadth 'scapes, On rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven."
Perhaps the greatest charm about these yarns of Seth's was theirtruthfulness. They were as far above your ordinary traveller's tales asthe moon in the sky is from the moon in the mill-dam--as substance fromshadow.
When gloaming deepened into night, when the call of the wild drakeresounded far beneath them, and the cry of the white owl fell on theear, when the north star looked down on them with its bright, clear,kindly eye, then, spreading their blankets under the tents, and wrappingtheir plaids more closely around them, they committed themselves toHeaven's protection, and sweetest dreamless slumber.
The few days succeeding a "big shoot" were nearly always spent infishing. Strange to say, the fish in the river, of which there wereabundance, could not be got to look at the flies our heroes had broughtwith them from home, so Seth came to the front again. He busked greatgaudy flies, that the daintiest trout hadn't the heart to resist.
It was autumn now, the leaves in the forest had first turned a dingiergreen, then the sunset of life stole over them. Rory had never seensuch tinting before. You may be sure our dreamy boy couldn't resist atemptation like this. He was painter as well as poet, and so he forgotto fish, forgot to shoot, forgot everything in his wanderings except thegorgeous scenery around him. He sketched and sketched, and stored hisportfolio.
"How delighted _she_ will be!" he often caught himself thinking, if notsaying, when he succeeded with some happier effect than usual.
Autumn waned apace.
They went less often now to the distant shooting-grounds, but they wentto the forest, McBain and all his merry men--at least, all that could bespared. They went to fell the trees and bring them home, for thecaptain had an idea, and this idea became a plan, and the plan was tobuild a house close to the shore near which lay the _Snowbird_--not aliving-house, but a hall in which the men could take exercise, duringthe short and stormy days of the long Arctic winter that would very soonsurround them. So every morning now a party went to the woods, with axeand adze, to fell and trim the pine-trees. The portion of the forestwhich was chosen stood high over a little green and bosky glen, adownwhich a streamlet ran, joining the great river about a mile below. Oneby one the trees were hurled down the steep sides of the glen, anddragged to the rivulet; they were then floated on to the river, and hereformed into a raft, which could be guided seawards with long poles; therest of the journey was easily accomplished by help of the cutter andgig. And so the work went cheerily on.
Old Ap was in his element now; _his_ turn seemed to have come forenjoyment. He had rehabilitated himself in that wonderful oldhead-to-feet apron and his paper cap, and bustled about as lively as asuperannuated cricket from "morning's sun till dine," giving orders hereand orders there, and always humming a song, and never without hissnuff-box.
The days grew shorter and shorter, winds moaned through the woods andbrown leaves fell, and soon they sighed through leafless trees; then thebirds of migration were found to have fled, even the buffaloes and thebisons went southwards after the sun, and the bears were no longer seenin the woods. But the building of the new hall went steadily on, andsoon the roof was up and the flooring laid; and a fine strong structureit looked, though, as far as shape and architecture went, a strangerwould have been puzzled to know what it was--whether church or market,mill or smithy. Never mind, there it was, and inside, at one end, therewas a large fireplace built, big enough to accommodate a bull bison ifhe wanted roasting whole.
Ap was proud of his work, I can assure you, and after he had built a fewforms for seats, he waxed still more ambitious, and commenced makingchairs.
I am sorry to say a death occurred on board about this time: it was thatof the yellowhammer, that had flown aboard after they had left Shetland.It was universally lamented, for though not much of a singer, it didwhat it could, and its little humble song could at any time recall tomemory broomy braes and moorlands clad in golden-scented gorse.
The mornings were cold and sharp now, and in the long fore-nights thebig lamp was lit in the snuggery, and a roaring fire in the stove wasquite a treat.
On coming on deck one evening about sunset, this is what they saw onlooking skywards. All around the horizon, for two spear-lengths high,was a slate-coloured haze; above this the mist was of a yellow hue,gradually merging into the blue of the open sky; and the sun was goingdown, looking like a great molten gong, his upper two-thirds a deepblood-red, the lower a lurid purple. The sea was waveless, yellow andglassy. A change was coming.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
WINTER COMES APACE--NEW VISITORS FROM THE NORTH--A "PERWISION O'NATUR'"--A MAD BUT MERRY SCENE--THE DOWNFALL OF SNOW-STARS--ANADVENTURE, BUT WHERE WILL IT END?
In the far north--up in the high latitudes, as sailors are wont to callthem--winter often comes on with startling rapidity. Nobodyunaccustomed to these regions would believe that there could be so shortan interval between the beautiful Indian summer, and the stern andrigorous Arctic winter. A few bright and almost balmy windless days,perhaps, herald its approach--days when there is a deep-abiding silenceon mountain, plain, and sea, and silence in the great foreststhemselves, where all nature seems to be breathless, expectant, waitingfor something to happen, something to come. The softer-leaved trees,the willows and water-ashes, the planes and the mountain mahoganies,that erst clad the glens in a cloud-land of green, are now stripped andbare, and the few brown leaves that cling here and there on some of thebranches, tremble in the uncertain air, just as if the trees were thingsof life and were nervous, and were whispering to each other and saying,"Oh! we all know what is coming; would that we could be up and be offlike the beasts and the birds of the forest that have all fled south!But we cannot, and our branches will be rent, our limbs will be torn andsevered by the stormy breath of swift-advancing winter!" But thosegiants of the woodlands and hilltops, the cedars and tamaracs, thespruces and pines, stood forth bold and stately as in summer. Nonervousness about them, their roots were fixed in the rocks themselves,and their sturdy limbs, still clothed in black and green, could biddefiance to every blast that could blow.
The beasts had not all gone away, though; there were bears in the woods,and wolves, and many kinds of smaller game, still left to afford sportfor our wanderers; and there were gulls and gui
llemots, and innumerablewild fowl as well: and lo! here were several new visitors from theregions of the Pole itself; an Arctic fox or two might sometimes be seenskipping hither and thither, and in the water four or five differentkinds of seals often came up to stare and marvel at the _Snowbird_, Awhale, with her calf, was seen ploughing through the still waters of thebay, probably going still farther south for the winter months. Anarwhal came quite a mile out of his lonely way to gaze at the yacht.He did not like her; he tossed his ivory spear angrily in the air, andplunged sullenly down into the depths again; and giant walruses wouldsuddenly pop their terrible tusked and bearded heads, high out of thewater to have a look at the intruder. But there were many more signsand wonders that told our heroes, in language that could not bemistaken, that King Winter would soon sweep down from his icy caves inthe frozen north, and claim all the land and the sea round them as hisown.
The Cruise of the Snowbird: A Story of Arctic Adventure Page 36