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

by H. L. Sayler

  CHAPTER XI

  PREPARING CAMP FOR WINTER

  Colonel Howell being a far from hard taskmaster, especially in hisdealings with the Indians, it was not until the morning of the second daythat Moosetooth and La Biche led their men out of camp on thethree-hundred mile tramp to Athabasca Landing. But the beginning of workin the camp did not await their departure. Colonel Howell took time toexplain his plans so far as they concerned his young friends, and themorning after the arrival of the boats work at once began with theregularity of a factory.

  The things to be done included a substantial addition to the presentcabin, to be made in the main out of the straight poplar timber. The roofof this was to be of sod and the new bunk house formed a "T" with the oldcabin. A clay floor was packed within and on this a board floor was madeof some of the inside timber from one of the scows. New timber and poplarposts were used to make the bunks, which, packed heavily with shreddedbalsam, soon provided clean and fragrant sleeping berths. Colonel Howellhad learned of a sheet-iron stove to be had in the McMurray settlement,and this was to be installed before cold weather arrived.

  The other cabin was renovated and thoroughly cleaned. A provisionstorehouse was added in the rear, and the clay fireplace was enlarged andextended into the room. This work under way, Norman and Roy, assisted byPaul, undertook to construct a rough but adequate aerodrome. The openspace in front of the cabin was not sufficient for a landing and a largepart of the clearing in the rear of the cabin was leveled for the airshipshed. To decrease the size of the structure, it was also made in "T"shape, the extension for the tail of the machine reaching back toward thecabin, for the new shelter faced away from the cabin so that there mightbe no obstacle in starting and landing the machine.

  In spite of its simple character, the boys made elaborate sketches forthis shed and used in the main small uniform poplar trees easily carriedon their shoulders. The entire frame of the building was made of thistimber. The front of it was to be made of the colonel's three enormoustarpaulins. The sides and top being of heavy hemlock bark, this featureof the work required many days and it was often tiresome.

  In the three weeks that this work went on, Colonel Howell appeared to bein no hurry to resume his prospecting. The boys learned that the oldKansas oil men had not been wholly idle in this respect and that they hadlocated several good signs, all of which Colonel Howell took occasion toexamine.

  The boys also learned that the best prospects were not those found wherethe derrick had been erected. From their experience, the men who had beenleft in camp strongly urged another location in a dip of land fartherinland.

  "It's as good a surface sign as I ever saw," Colonel Howell explained tothe young men. "It's a rock cut, but there's enough tar floating loose toshow that there's oil mighty close. But there's no use getting excitedabout it and tapping a gusher. We'd only have to cap it and wait for thetank cars. Everything around here is prospective, of course. All we cando is to cover the field and establish our claim. And I guess that's agood winter's job."

  "Ain't you goin' to work this derrick?" asked Paul, indicating the oneerected near the camp.

  "Looks like there might be gas around here," was the colonel's laughingresponse. "We'll sink a shaft here an' maybe we can find a flow ofnatural gas. That'd help some when she gets down to forty below."

  It was surprising how all these preparations consumed time. It was nearlythe end of August when these plans had been worked out and with thesetting up of the _Gitchie Manitou_ in its novel aerodrome and thestoring away of its oil and gasoline in a little bark lean-to, the campappeared to be ready for serious work.

  For a week Ewen and Miller had been setting up the wood boiler and enginefor operating the derrick. From the night he unceremoniously left camp,Chandler, the Englishman, had not been heard from.

  Each Sunday all labor ceased in camp and Ewen and Miller invariably spentthe day, long into the night, in Fort McMurray. The boys also visitedthis settlement, which had in it little of interest. There was no storeand nothing to excite their cupidity in the way of purchases. They heardthat Chandler had gone down the river, but the information was notdefinite and, although Colonel Howell left messages for his dischargedemployee, the man did not reappear and sent no word.

  Colonel Howell's other workmen, Ewen and Miller, were not companionableand did not become comrades of the boys. Now and then, in the month'swork, Norman and Roy had heard Colonel Howell freely criticize them forthe method of their work or for some newly omitted thing they had failedto do during the winter.

  When the stores and supplies had been compactly arranged in the rear ofthe living room and the new storehouse, the cabin and its surroundingsseemed prepared for comfortable occupancy in the coldest weather.

  The only man retained out of the river outfit was a Lac la Bichehalf-breed, a relative of Moosetooth, who was to serve both as a cook anda hunter. At least once a week, the entire party of young men went withPhilip Tremble, the half-breed hunter, for deer or moose. This usuallymeant an early day's start, if they were looking for moose, and a longhike over the wooded hills to the upland.

  One moose they secured on the second hunt and to the great joy of theboys Philip brought the skin of the animal back to camp. The antlers,being soft, were useless. This episode not only afforded a welcome changein meat which, as Colonel Howell had predicted, could not be told fromtender beef, but it sadly interfered with the work on the aerodrome.

  When the Indian had prepared a frame for dressing the skin and lashed thegreen hide with heavy cord between the four poplar sides and had produceda shaving knife from somewhere among his private possessions, the boysfought for the opportunity to work upon the hide.

  For almost two days, Norman, Roy and Paul, by turns, scraped at themuscle, sinews and fat yet adhering to the skins until at last theirfirst trophy shone as tight and clean in the sunshine as a drumhead.Philip had also brought, from the upland, the animal's brains tied up inhis shirt. In the tanning process he then took charge of the cleaned skinand buried it until the hair had rotted, and in this condition theoutside of the skin was also cleaned. Then came a mysterious process ofscouring the skin with the long preserved brains.

  At Colonel Howell's suggestion, and with the complete approval of theboys, this part of the process was carried on at some distance from thecabin. Thereafter, when the weather was clear, Philip exposed the skin tothe smoke of a smouldering fire, devoting such time as he had to rubbingand twisting the hide while it turned to a soft, odorous yellow.

  Before the real winter began, the skin, which is the wealth of theCanadian Indian, began to make its appearance in strong moccasins, whichwere usually worn around the fireplace and often in bed.

  From somewhere in the outfit a calendar had made its appearance, and thishad found a lodging place in the front of the fireplace. The morning thatColonel Howell made a mark on September 1, with a bit of charred stick,he remarked:

  "Well, boys, the postman seems to have forgotten us. What's the matterwith running up to Athabasca and getting our mail? A piece of beefwouldn't go bad, either. How about it?"

  So intense had the interest of Norman and Roy been in the hundreds ofthings to be done in camp that the aeroplane, although not out of mind,was not always foremost in their thoughts. No reply was needed to thissuggestion. Instantly, the proposition filled the air with airship talk.

  This first trip had been discussed many times. It required no particularplanning now.

  "I like to travel about fifty miles an hour," exclaimed Norman, "and it'sthree hundred miles to the Landing. We'll leave to-morrow morning at fiveo'clock and land on the heights opposite the town at eleven. One of us'llgo across in the ferry--"

  "Both of us," broke in Roy. "There's no need to watch themachine--everybody's honest in this country."

  "Let me go and watch it?" asked Paul, who was now the constant associateof the other boys in their work and pleasures.

  "Not this time," answered Norman. "It isn't exactly a bus, you know. Weca
n take care of it all right."

  "Then we'll have dinner at the good old Alberta," suggested Roy with hisfeatures aglow, "do our errands, and start back about three o'clock. It'sa cinch. With the river for our guide, we ought to give you a beefsteakabout nine o'clock."

  "And don't forget a few magazines," put in Paul.

  This flight, which began promptly on time the next morning, after anearly breakfast of toasted bannock, bacon and the inevitable tea, whichPhilip never spoiled with smoke, however, was made with all the ease ofthe exhibitions at the Stampede.

  The _Gitchie Manitou_ was wheeled out of the hangar for a thoroughinspection. Then the boys climbed in and the engines were started. With awave of the hand they were off.

  For a short time after the yellow-winged monoplane had mounted and turnedsouth and westward over the vapory river, the boys had a new sensation.The rising fog started air currents which for a time they did notunderstand. Perhaps Norman's hand was a little out of a practice and attimes Roy showed nervousness.

  When Norman finally guessed the cause, he mounted higher and took acourse over the uplands where, as the sunshine cleared the atmosphere,the _Gitchie Manitou_ became more easily manageable. The line of vaporrising from the river some distance on their left was sufficient guide.This at last disappeared in turn and Norman threw the car back on its oldcourse.

  Once again above the river, whose brown, oily surface now shone clearlybeneath them, Roy especially busied himself with the many attractions ofthe stream. Animal life was plentiful and, despite Norman's renewedprotests, his companion insisted now and then in fruitlessly discharginghis rifle at small game.

  They made better time than fifty miles and made a safe landing on theheights opposite Athabasca some time before eleven o'clock. What hadseemed to them, from Athabasca, to be an uninhabited bluff, was now foundto contain several poor cabins. Afraid to leave the car alone near thosewho would certainly be curious, Norman decided to stay with the monoplaneand Roy undertook to visit the town across the river. But dinner at theAlberta was eliminated and Roy, in addition to his mail and meat andmagazines, was to bring back luncheon for both the aviators.

  Norman accompanied him to the brow of the hill and saw him scramble downthe winding road to the ferry landing below. Here, also, he saw him waitnearly a half hour before the cumbersome gravity flatboat put out fromthe other shore, and then he devoted himself to picking and eatingSaskatoon berries, with which the hills were covered.

  It was two o'clock when Roy returned, burdened with packages. For an hourNorman had been asleep in the invigorating hill air. Roy had certainlygone the limit in the matter of meat. He had two roasts and six thicksteaks and, what was more to his own taste, he proudly displayed a leg oflamb. His mail, of which there seemed to be a great deal for everyone, hehad tied in one end of a flour sack. In the other end he had six loavesof fresh bread. On his back in another bag he had a weight of magazines.

  "I thought we'd take what we could," he began, "and I guess it's a goodthing we came when we did. Somebody's been pounding telegrams in here forseveral days for Colonel Howell. I got a half dozen of 'em and I sent allhe gave me. I got off some messages to the folks, too, but I wonder whatthe colonel's so busy about."

  "This ain't the only iron he has in the fire," answered Norman drowsily."But where's our own eats?"

  Roy dumped his bags and bundles on the grass and then began to explorehis own capacious pockets. From one he took a can of salmon and fromanother a box of sardines.

  "And here's the lemon for 'em," he explained, producing it from his shirtpocket. "Help yourself to the bread."

  "Is that all?" complained Norman. "I'll bet a nickel you had dinner atthe Alberta!"

  "All but this," went on Roy, and he began unbuttoning the front of hisflannel shirt. "It feels kind of soft."

  While Norman watched him, he extracted a greasy bag, flat and crumpled,and tore it open to expose what was left of an originally fine hot raisinpie.

  His companion turned up his nose in disgust.

  "I fell down on the hill," explained Roy, "but if you don't want it,don't bother. It's just a little squashed. I'll eat it all right."

  Norman began to straighten out the crumpled pieces with his finger, whenhis chum added, with some exultation: "And these."

  Then, from within his unbuttoned shirt, he began to unload a dozen largesugar-coated doughnuts.

  As Norman's mouth began to water, and he turned to the bread bag, a newodor caught his nostrils.

  "What's this?" he exclaimed, pulling another greasy bag from among thebread loaves.

  "Oh, I forgot," sputtered Roy, a part of one of the doughnuts already inhis mouth; "that's some baked ham I found at the butcher shop. I guessthat's some eats."

  "Didn't you get any pop?" was Norman's only answer, a look of addeddisgust spreading over his face.

  Roy turned, with a startled look: "I couldn't carry any more," heanswered a little guiltily, "but I drank a couple o' bottles myself."

  "I knew I'd get stung if I let you go!" growled his companion.

  Norman looked at him with indignation. Then, having already appropriateda doughnut, he mounted quickly on the side of the car and sprang downagain with the aluminum basin in his hand.

  "Now you go down to the river and get me a drink. You've had it softenough."

  The return trip was almost a duplicate of the morning flight. In this,however, the aviators were able to follow the stream itself, and theyflew low, protected from the evening breeze by the river hills. The ridedid not seem long, and the boys were particularly interested in anotherview of the Rapids, which they had been unable to study in the morningflight. Not a single human being, going or coming, had they seen on thelong stretch of river.

  In Athabasca, Roy had learned that their boat crew had not all returned,but that La Biche and Moosetooth had reached town and that both werealready serving as pilots on the new Hudson's Bay Company steamer thathad been launched in their absence and was now making its first trip upthe river. They were almost passing the oil camp when the sound of a shotattracted their attention and then, guided by Paul's worn and faded hat,they banked and landed in the rear of the aerodrome at ten minutes ofnine.