On the Edge of the Arctic; Or, An Aeroplane in Snowland

by H. L. Sayler

  CHAPTER X

  PAUL AWAKENS TO THE SITUATION

  At first Colonel Howell's camp appeared to be deserted, but as the boatsmade in toward the shore and the crew began shouting, two men appearedfrom the cabin. These were Ewen and Miller--Chandler was not in sight.

  The new log cabin with its flat tar-paper roof, glistening with its manytin washers, and with a substantial looking chimney built against oneend, had a satisfactory look. In addition, several large ricks ofcordwood standing at the edge of the clearing gave sign that the men hadnot been idle during the spring. At the same time, there were manyevidences of a lack of thrift to be seen in the debris left from thecabin building.

  No arrangements had been made for a boat landing and Colonel Howell'scanoe was lying carelessly against the steep bank. Both Norman and Royfelt somewhat disappointed. While neither was bothered with the romanticideas usually attached to the woodland cabins of fiction, each hadexpected a smarter camp. Nor were they very favorably impressed with thetwo men who appeared on the bank. They were not exactly tidy inappearance and their figures and faces suggested that they had spent awinter of comparative ease among the colonel's stores.

  "Where's the Englishman?" was Colonel Howell's salutation, as he and hisfriends sprang ashore.

  "Over at the settlement," answered Ewen, as he jerked his thumb down theriver. "There wasn't much doing here and he went over there a few daysago to visit some friends."

  "A few days ago," exclaimed the colonel, as his eyes made a survey of thelittered-up clearing. "He might have put in a little time clearin' outthese stumps."

  "We just got through cuttin' the wood," broke in Miller as he and Ewenshook hands with their boss, "and we just got the finishin' touches onthe cabin. We didn't know when to expect you."

  Colonel Howell, followed by his men and the new arrivals, scrambled upthe bank and, with no great show of enthusiasm, began a close examinationof the new cabin and its surroundings. Nor were the boys any moreimpressed with the structure, which, inside, showed very littleingenuity. It had been made for the use of four men--seven were going tocrowd it. After Colonel Howell had inspected the derrick, he returned andseated himself on a stump.

  "When's Chandler comin' back?" he asked abruptly. Without waiting for areply, which neither of his men seemed able to give him, he added: "Oneof you fellows had better take the canoe and go and get him thisafternoon--that is, if he wants to come back."

  There was some irritation in his tone that showed everyone that thingswere not exactly to his liking.

  "It's only two miles," remarked Ewen showing some alacrity, "and I'll goby the trail."

  When he had gone, Colonel Howell turned to Miller, whose unshaven andsomewhat bloated face told that he had not lost any flesh during his stayat the camp.

  "Miller," he said, "go down and take hold of these scows. We've got toget this stuff up here on the bank and under some protection. I don'twant these Indians on my hands any longer than necessary. Keep 'em at ituntil midnight, if necessary, and then make up an outfit for 'emto-morrow and let 'em hit the trail."

  "What are you going to do with the boats?" asked Roy.

  "We're going to use 'em to make a cabin big enough for our new family,"answered the colonel, smiling perfunctorily. "This one's all right forour cooking and eating, but it doesn't appeal to me as a bunk house. Ithink we'll add another room. The season's getting away from us and wecan't afford to lose any time."

  The man Miller had already shown signs of great activity when ColonelHowell suddenly called him back.

  "On second thought, Miller," he said, rising and throwing off his coat,"I think you'd better tackle the cabin first. There's a lot of truck inthere that ought to be in a storehouse and it's got a kind o' mustysmell. Open all the windows and clean out the place. We've got to sleepin there to-night. When you've done that, get that kitchen stuff and usesome river water and sand on it. Looks like an Indian shack in the middleo' winter. Young men," he went on, again forcing a smile, "I reckon it'sup to us to get this gang busy."

  There was nothing in this that discouraged Norman and Roy and even Paulseemed interested in the unloading of the boats. Before this was begun,however, Moosetooth spoke in an undertone to Colonel Howell and,shrugging his shoulders, the prospector waved his hand.

  "All right," he exclaimed, "they'll work the better for it. Feed 'em.Four meals a day--that's the least that any half-breed demands."

  While Colonel Howell and the crew began getting the two scows broadsidealong the bank, the Cree cooks unloaded the two cook outfits and the grubboxes. The laborious task of hoisting the crates and boxes of the rest ofthe cargo up the treacherous bank had hardly begun when the cooks,disdaining the fireplace within the cabin, had their fires going in theopen clearing.

  Within an hour the Indians were devoting themselves to a filling supperand a little later Colonel Howell and his assistants made a hasty meal oftinned roast mutton, pickles, Indian bannock, and tea. All about wasconfusion. The personal baggage of the newly arrived had been assembledjust without the cabin door and Miller and a couple of the crew werebeginning to carry in balsam boughs, on which, in their blankets, thecolonel and his friends were to pass the night.

  No attempt was made, further than Miller's crude efforts, to make theinside of the cabin more inviting. A big fire of rotten wood had beenstarted near by, as a mosquito smudge, but all were too busy to givethese pests much attention.

  While the Indians were at supper, Ewen returned with Chandler.

  The latter arrived with much effusiveness, but his greeting by ColonelHowell was rather curt.

  "Of course you'll remember this," the colonel remarked, "when it comes tosettling."

  Chandler changed his attitude instantly. His expression and speech showedthat he was not sober.

  "I'm ready to settle now," he retorted, as his eyes swept over thegrowing heaps of the many boxes, barrels, bags and crates that litteredthe shore.

  "I think I am too," remarked Colonel Howell, "when it suits me.Meanwhile, you're off the chuck roll. Get out of camp and when you're ina proper condition and can show me what you've earned, come back!"

  The tall and emaciated Englishman drew himself up and glared at ColonelHowell.

  "Get out!" exclaimed the latter in a tone that was wholly new to thethree boys.

  "I'll go when I get my money!" mumbled Chandler, half defiantly.

  Without more words, Colonel Howell shot out his right arm and caught theman by his shoulder. He whirled Chandler and sent him sprawling on thetrail.

  The man's defiance was gone. "My pay's comin' to me," he whimpered, "andI've worked hard for it."

  "We'll see about that," snapped the oil man, "when the time comes."

  As if dismissing the incident from his mind, he turned toward the scows.

  "Look out!" exclaimed the three boys, almost together, but their warningwas hardly needed. As Colonel Howell turned, the sinewy form of oldMoosetooth had thrown itself upon the crouching Englishman. The two mensank to the ground and there was a surge forward by those near by. Thenthe Indian tore himself from the partly helpless Chandler and struggledto his feet. In his hand he held Chandler's short double-edged knife.With indistinguishable imprecations and his arms waving in the air, theEnglishman disappeared within the fringe of poplar trees.

  Excited, but with no excuse for asking questions, the boys turned and,with Colonel Howell, resumed the task of getting their cargo ashore. OldMoosetooth looked at the knife, placed it inside his belt and begancutting a fresh pipe of tobacco.

  "Life in the wilds!" remarked Colonel Howell, as he and the boys regainedthe scows. "A lazy man's bad enough, but a booze fighter doesn't belongin this camp."

  "Where could he get anything to drink up here?" asked Norman, a littlenervously.

  "Tell me!" responded Colonel Howell. "That's what we all want to know.Anyway," he went on, "we've done our part towards cutting it out. Thereisn't a drop of it in this outfit."

  When he could do so without
attracting attention, Norman glanced at Paul.The latter as quickly averted his eyes and plunged with greater energyinto his share of the work.

  These events had taken place just before the "cabin passengers" had beencalled to supper. Efforts were being made to forget the Chandler episodeand Colonel Howell especially was talkative and jolly. Paul was just theopposite. At last, when the cook had left them with their tea, the youngAustrian seemed to become desperate. Norman and Roy were just about toleave the cabin when Paul stopped them, more and more embarrassed.

  "I want to say something, boys," he began. Then he turned to his hostand, the perspiration thick on his face, added suddenly: "Colonel Howell,I don't know how to say it, but I've got to tell you. I lied to you theother night in the hotel at Edmonton. You didn't ask me to stop drinking,but you talked to me pretty straight, and that's what I meant to do. WellI didn't stop--I just put it off, a little. I didn't do the right thingback at the Landing. I knew it then, but I knew I was going to stop whenI came up here and I just put it off a little longer."

  The colonel made a half deprecating motion, as if it embarrassed him tolisten to the young man's confession.

  "I thought it was all right," he said, as if to somewhat relieve Paul'sembarrassment, "and I knew you meant to stop. Of course we knew what youwere doing, but you're pretty young," concluded the colonel with a laugh.

  Norman and Roy each gave signs of an inclination to relieve Paul'sembarrassment and Norman especially showed concern. But he and his friendremained silent.

  "We'll let that all be bygones," suggested Colonel Howell, "and here's tothe future--we'll drink to what is to come in Canada's nationalbeverage--black tea reeking with the smoke of the camp fire."

  A laugh of relief started round, as Paul's three companions hit the tablewith their heavy tin cups, but in this the young Count did not join.

  "That ain't it," he blurted suddenly. "That was bad enough, but I've doneworse than that."

  The colonel's face sobered and Norman's eyes turned toward the heap ofpersonal belongings just outside the cabin door. Paul's trembling armmotioned toward these boxes and bags.

  "I've got a case of brandy out there and I've got to tell you how I'velied to you."

  "Hardly that!" protested Colonel Howell. "You hadn't spoken to me of it."

  "No, I didn't," confessed Paul, his voice trembling, "but I just heardyou say we hadn't anything like that with us and I might as well havelied, because I had it."

  "Did that sergeant of police know this?" broke in Roy. "I thought heexamined everything. He certainly said we were all right."

  "Yes, he knew it," answered Paul, "but he isn't to blame. Don't think I'mmaking that an excuse."

  Colonel Howell sat with downcast eyes and an expression of pain on hisface.

  "Why did you do it?" he asked in a low tone at last. "Did you mean tohide it from me?"

  "No, no," exclaimed his young guest. "I don't know why I did it. I don'twant it. I'm going to quit all that. That's why I came up here. You knowthat, Colonel Howell--don't you believe me?"

  But Colonel Howell's face now bore a different expression.

  "My friend," he remarked after a few moment's thought, "I may have donewrong to ask your father to let you come with us. I thought you knew allthe conditions. If this is a life that is not going to interest you,you'd better go back. The Indians will be returning to-morrow or the nextday and you won't find it such a hard trip."

  Paul gulped as if choking and then sprang from the table. From thebaggage outside he extracted a canvas-bound box, his own name on theside. While his companions sat in silence he hurled it on the floor attheir feet and then, with a sweep of his knife, cut the canvas from thepackage. With a single crush by his heavy boot, he loosened one of theboards of the cover. Carefully packed within were a dozen bottles ofexpensive brandy. Paul caught one of them and appeared to be about tosmash it on the edge of the table. The colonel raised his hand.

  "Stop!" ordered his host. "Are you going back or do you want to stay withus?"

  "Colonel Howell," almost sobbed the young man, "I'd give anything I haveor can do for you if you'll let me stay."

  "There's only one condition," answered Colonel Howell, and he no longerattempted to conceal his irritation. "If you're not strong enough to dowithout that kind of stuff, you're not welcome here. If you are, you arevery welcome."

  "I'll throw it all in the river," exclaimed Paul, chokingly.

  "Which would prove nothing," announced Colonel Howell. "Put that bottleback in the box and nail it up. When you want it again, come and tell meand I'll give you the case and an escort back to the Landing."

  The episode had become more than embarrassing for Norman and Roy and theyarose and left the room. Paul's face was buried in his hands and his headwas low on the table. Fifteen minutes later, the young Count and the oilman made their appearance, both very sober of face.

  At midnight when the last of the cargo had been unshipped, when theIndians had been fed again and when the white men had had a late supperof bannock and Nova Scotia butter and fresh tea, and when Colonel Howelland the boys had spread their heavy blankets on the fresh balsam, inPaul's corner of the cabin lay the box that had brought him so muchchagrin. Not once during the evening had the humiliating incident beenreferred to by those who participated in it.