Bobby of the Labrador by Dillon Wallace

D >> Dillon Wallace >> Bobby of the Labrador

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

When all was arranged Bobby, after his custom, walked quietly back to
the cairn which he had built in previous summers to mark the grave of
the mysterious man that Abel and Mrs. Abel had buried so many years
before, and Jimmy went with him.

"I often wonder," said Bobby, as he replaced some stones that winter
storms had loosed, "who the man was and how he came by his death. I
remember I called him Uncle Robert, but I can't remember much else about
him, and that is like a dream."

"I wonder if he really was your uncle?" suggested Jimmy.

"I don't know," said Bobby. "I try to remember, until my head is
spinning with it, and sometimes it seems as though I am going to
remember what happened away back there. It's just as though I had lived
before, and I think of bright lights, and beautiful things, and
wonderful people. I wonder if Father and Mother are right, and what I
remember is heaven? Do you think so, Jimmy?"

"I--I wonder, now!" Jimmy's voice was filled with awe. "Maybe you did
come from heaven, Bobby!"

"I don't believe so," and Bobby was practical again. "I don't feel as
though I'd ever been an angel, and I don't look it, do I?"

And he squared his shoulders and laughed his good-natured, infectious
laugh, in which Jimmy joined, and the two returned to camp.

There was no floe ice on the coast now, but the sea was dotted with many
icebergs, children of the great northern glaciers, drifting southward on
the Arctic current. Some of them were small and insignificant. Others
towered in massive majesty and grandeur high above the sea, miniature
mountains of ice. Some were of solid white, but the greater part of them
reflected marvelous blues and greens and were a riot of beautiful color.

One of the smaller icebergs lying a half mile or so from Itigailit
Island attracted Bobby's attention as he and Jimmy walked back from the
cairn.

"See that berg, Jimmy?" he asked.

"The little one close in?"

"Yes. Do you know, I've got an idea. That bear meat won't keep long
unless we pack it in ice or salt it, and I'd rather have it fresh than
salted, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would!" said Jimmy.

"Then let's take your skiff--it's bigger than ours--and go for a load of
ice."

"It's dangerous to go digging on icebergs. They're like to turn over,"
suggested Jimmy.

"Oh, don't be afraid, now. Come on. There isn't any danger," said Bobby,
with impelling enthusiasm. "We can get enough ice to keep the meat fresh
until it's all used up. Come on."

And Jimmy, as was his custom when Bobby urged, agreed. Skipper Ed's
skiff lay at the landing, and arming themselves with an ax the two
pulled away unobserved.

It was a small iceberg, perhaps sixty feet in diameter, and rising not
more than twenty feet above the water. Its surface was irregular, and
there were several places where excellent footing could be had. The boat
was directed toward one of these.

"You stay in the boat," said Bobby, seizing the ax, "and I'll go aboard
her and cut the ice."

"Be careful," cautioned Jimmy.

"Oh, there's no danger," said Bobby, climbing to the iceberg.

Bobby began chopping off as large pieces as he thought he could
conveniently handle. The ice was exceedingly hard and brittle. It had
frozen centuries before, under the extremely low temperatures of the
Arctic regions. It had its beginning, perhaps, in snow deposited in some
far-off Greenland valley. Other snows had come upon it, and still other
snows, until a tremendous weight of snow pressed it, as it froze, into a
glass-like hardness.

And all the while the great mass was moving, inch by inch, and slowly,
down the long valley toward the sea. Perhaps a century passed, perhaps
two or three, or even more, centuries, before this particular portion of
the glacier, as these masses of ice between the hills are called,
reached the sea and was at last thrust out beyond the land.

And then, one day, with a report like the report of a cannon, it
separated from the mother glacier, slid out into the current, and began
its southward voyage. Months had passed since then--perhaps a year, or
even two or three years--and all the time it had been wasting away in
the water until Bobby and Jimmy found it this July day, off Itigailit
Island.

But neither Bobby as he chopped at the ice, nor Jimmy as he sat in the
boat, gave that a thought, if indeed they knew it. They were intent only
upon gathering enough of the aged ice to preserve the meat of a polar
bear.

Neither did they realize that with each stroke of the ax Bobby was
disturbing the center of gravitation of the iceberg, already delicately
balanced in the water, until presently Jimmy noticed that the side next
him was rising--very slowly and deliberately at first.

"Bobby! Look out--the berg's turning!" he shouted in a terrified voice.

Up and up went the side of the iceberg. Bobby was lost to view. Then
came a rush of water, a great deluging wave swamped the skiff, and
Jimmy went down with a crash and roar of water and crumbling ice in his
ears.

CHAPTER XII

ADRIFT ON THE OPEN SEA

As the iceberg turned, great masses of ice, some of them weighing tons,
loosened from the main body, and with loud rumbling and roar crashed
into the sea. Bobby, when he realized what was happening, began with all
his energy to scramble up the wall of ice as it rose from the water.

Fortunately it was a small iceberg, and fortunately, also, it turned
slowly and with deliberation and but a short distance, when it again
reached its equilibrium, and was still.

Bobby's life had been one of pretty constant peril and adventure, and
after the manner of wilderness dwellers he had learned resourcefulness
and self-possession. It is indeed a part of the daily training of every
lad of the wilderness, that he acquire these attributes, until at last
they become second nature to him, and instinctively he does the thing
he should do when he comes suddenly face to face with unexpected
dangers. And so it was with both Bobby and Jimmy, and thus it came about
that Bobby did not lose his head when the iceberg began to turn, and
when it was again at rest he found himself upon a high pinnacle, with
the seething waters all around him. To be sure, his heart beat faster,
and it was but natural that he should be excited, but his nerves were
nevertheless under control, and his wits, too.

From his perch upon the iceberg Bobby looked eagerly for Jimmy and the
skiff. He feared that some of the ponderous blocks of ice had fallen
upon them and crushed them, and the thought made him heart-sick for an
instant.

But presently he saw the skiff, filled with water and smothering in the
swell, and a moment later he discovered Jimmy, also smothering in the
swell, but swimming vigorously toward the iceberg. This brought him vast
relief. Jimmy was alive and apparently uninjured, and the whole
adventure became to Bobby at once an ordinary occurrence of their
every-day life, for which he was mightily thankful. To be sure it was an
unpleasant and annoying adventure, but they would escape from it, he had
no doubt, none the worse for their experience. And in this frame of mind
he clambered down the slippery sides of the ice hill to a level spot at
the water's edge, shouting in the most matter-of-fact way, as he did so:

"This way, Jimmy! This way! You can climb aboard here!"

In a few strokes Jimmy came alongside, and Bobby, taking his hand,
helped him to scramble, shivering, to the ice.

"My, Bobby, but I was glad to see you here!" Jimmy exclaimed through his
chattering teeth. "I was afraid you were done for! I was afraid it
carried you under when it turned."

"I was afraid you were done for, too!" and there was thanksgiving in
Bobby's voice. "How did it happen you got into the water? Did the ice
hit the skiff?"

"I don't know how it happened," said Jimmy. "I don't think the ice hit
the skiff, but it all came so suddenly I don't know."

"Well, here we are, and out there's the boat, and we've got to get it,"
declared Bobby. "I'm going for it."

"No, let me go. I'm wet anyhow, and I'm all right for it," Jimmy
protested. "I might have brought it in with me, but I didn't see it."

"I'm going," declared Bobby, with an accent that left no doubt he was,
as he pulled off his clothes, and his sealskin boots. "You've had your
dip, and I'm going to have one now--the first of the year."

"It's pretty cold," Jimmy cautioned. "I've been in, and I'm used to it,
and don't mind it."

But Bobby was in, and swimming for the skiff. It was, fortunately, not
above fifty or sixty feet away, for the whole occurrence had taken place
within a very few minutes' time, and the boat had not yet had time to
drift beyond reach.

A few strokes carried Bobby to the submerged skiff. He secured the
painter, which was attached to the bow, and with some hard tugging
reached the iceberg, and climbed up with Jimmy's assistance.

"You'd better take off your things and wring 'em out, while I dress,"
Bobby suggested, as he drew his clothes on.

"I guess I had," Jimmy agreed.

"Now," said Bobby, when he and Jimmy were dressed, after Jimmy had wrung
as much of the water as possible from his clothes, "we're going to have
a hard time of it getting the water out of her. How'll we do it?"

"Can't we get her alongside and turn her over?" Jimmy suggested. "We can
pull her up empty."

With some mighty pulling and hauling, and many futile efforts, they at
length succeeded, and presently the skiff was in the water again and
floating as easily as though nothing had happened and it had never once
been under the waves. And then a new problem confronted them.

"The oars! The oars are gone!" exclaimed Jimmy in consternation.

And so they were. Nowhere could they discover the oars, though they
clambered up the iceberg again and scanned the surrounding sea.

"Well," said Bobby, "that's hard luck! I wonder if we can't make father
or some one hear. Let's get up on top and yell."

From the top of the iceberg they shouted and shouted, but Mrs. Abel was
in one tent, busied with her household affairs, and Skipper Ed and Abel
were in the other tent, making ready their fishing gear, and the breeze
blew from the land, and altogether no one heard the shouting.

"No use," said Bobby at last, descending to the skiff. "I'll tell you
what we'll do. We'll knock one of the seats out, split it, and make two
paddles. They'll be short, but they'll do us to get ashore. It isn't
far."

"It looks as though it's the only thing to do, unless we want to stay
here for three or four hours," agreed Jimmy, taking the ax and knocking
out the seat. "I'm shivering cold from my wetting."

"It's lucky I hung to the ax," said Bobby, as he watched Jimmy
fashioning the paddles.

"There," said Jimmy at length, "they're pretty short paddles, but we'll
have to make 'em do. Let's get off of this."

But the tide was running out, and a very strong tide it proved, and the
breeze from the land was stiff enough, too, had there been no opposing
tide, to have made pulling against it with a good pair of oars no easy
task. All this they did not realize until they had paddled beyond the
shelter of the iceberg, for they had drawn the boat up upon its lee
side.

They put all the energy they could muster into their effort, but the
paddles were very short and very narrow, and work as they would they
presently discovered that tide and wind were mastering them, and instead
of progressing toward Itigailit Island they were drifting seaward.

"We can't make it!" said Jimmy at last.

"No," agreed Bobby. "We'll have to go back to the berg and wait for them
to come for us."

But even that they could not accomplish. Work as they would, the
paddles proved hopelessly inefficient, and after an hour's desperate
effort they realized that they were nearly as far to seaward from the
iceberg as the iceberg was from Itigailit Island.

"Well," said Bobby, at length, "we're in for it, and a fine fix it is."

"What are we going to do?" asked Jimmy. "We've _got_ to do something."

"I wish that I had some of that bear meat. I'm as hungry as the old bear
ever was," said Bobby, irrelevantly.

"Well, so am I, but we'll be hungrier than the bear ever was, I'm
thinking, if we don't do something to get to land," broke in Jimmy with
some irritation. "Why, Bobby, don't you realize what it means? We've got
no water and nothing to eat! We'll perish of thirst and hunger if we
don't get to land! Unless a sea rises and swamps us, and then we'll
drown!"

"It does look as though we were drifting to the place I came from, but
it won't do any good to worry," said Bobby. "Maybe when the tide turns
we can do something. The wind goes down with the sun every evening, and
then with the tide in our favor maybe we can make it."

"It'll be a good hour yet before the tide turns, and two or three hours
before sundown, and where'll we be then?" argued Jimmy, dejectedly. "I
wish I could be like you, Bobby, and not worry over things the way I
do."

"Well, just remember that we did the best we could to get out of the
mess after we got into it, and if we keep on doing our best that is all
we can do, and worrying won't help us any. I just feel like being
thankful that you weren't killed and we're both here safe and sound,
with an even chance that we'll get back home all right."

And so, paddling, drifting, sometimes silent for a long while, sometimes
talking, the time passed. The land faded upon the horizon and was lost.
Icebergs lay about them. Once they were startled by the thunderous roar
of a monster berg in the distance as it toppled and turned upon its
side, and later they felt its swell. Not far away a whale spouted.

Finally the sun set, and the wind died, and for a little while the
heavens and icebergs and sea were marvelously and gloriously painted
with crimson and purple and orange.

Then came the long gray twilight of the North, and at last the stars,
and night, and darkness, with the icebergs, white, spectral, and coldly
majestic, rising in silhouette against the distant sky, and the
throbbing, restless sea, somber and black, around them.

CHAPTER XIII

HOW THE "GOOD AND SURE" BROUGHT TROUBLE

The two or three hours of the midsummer Labrador night were long hours
for Bobby and Jimmy--the longest hours they had ever experienced. At
intervals, guiding their course by the stars, they paddled, and this
drove away the deadening chill that threatened to overcome them.

But at last dawn came, and with the growing light the sense of
helplessness which had enveloped them during the period of darkness fell
away, and to some extent Bobby's confidence, hopefulness, and buoyancy
of spirits returned, and he rallied Jimmy, also, into a better frame of
mind.

"Hurrah!" shouted Bobby, at length. "See there, Jimmy!"

And Jimmy, looking, saw upon the western horizon a long, gray line.

"Why, there's the land!" he exclaimed.

"Isn't it great to see it again!" said Bobby.

"Let's paddle hard, and see if we can't make it. The tide's been
drifting us in, and the paddling we've done in the night has been
helping."

"It didn't seem to, but it must have," agreed Jimmy, working as hard as
he could with his short paddle. "The exercise kept me warm, and that's
about the only good I thought it was doing, but it did help, didn't it?"

"It certainly did," agreed Bobby. "My, but I'm hungry!"

"So am I," said Jimmy. "Won't the sun feel good when it rises?"

"I wonder which way we lie from home?"

"South, of course, for that's the drift of the current. All the bergs
drift south."

"Yes, but how far?"

"Oh, I don't know, but we must be some bit south of the island."

And so they calculated and chatted, while the glow grew in the eastern
sky, and until the sun rose, at last, to comfort them and warm stiffened
fingers and chilled bodies. But with the sun a westerly breeze also set
in to retard them, and their progress was tedious and slow.

The shore still lay a long way off, though a little nearer than when
they first discovered it in the morning light, and Bobby had just
remarked that they had gained a little, when Jimmy suddenly ceased
paddling, and rising to his feet gazed eagerly to the southward.

"What is it?" asked Bobby. "What do you see?"

"A sail! A sail!" Jimmy almost shouted a moment later. "I wasn't sure at
first, but now I'm certain!"

Bobby was on his feet in an instant, and the two, balancing themselves
dexterously while the skiff rose and fell upon the swell, watched
excitedly as the sail increased in size.

"It's a schooner!" said Jimmy.

"And it'll pick us up!" said Bobby.

"If it doesn't pass too far to windward to see us," suggested Jimmy.

"They'll be sure to see us," insisted the optimistic Bobby. "They can't
pass between us and the land without seeing us."

And so it came to pass. Nearer and nearer the schooner drew, until at
length her whole black hull was visible, and then Bobby and Jimmy took
off their jackets and waved them and waved them, until presently men
crowded at the rail of the schooner and waved in answer, and in due
time, when the schooner came abreast of them, a boat was lowered, and
pointed directly toward them.

"Now we'll be all right," said Bobby, with immense relief, as they
watched the four long oars, pulled by four husky men, rise and fall and
glint in the sunshine, while a fifth man sculled astern. "They'll either
drop us in at Itigailit Island or lend us oars for the skiff!"

"Yes, and it's great luck for us that they saw us," remarked Jimmy. "I
don't believe we ever could have made land with these short paddles."

"The first thing I want is something to eat and drink," declared Bobby.
"I'm getting hungrier every minute."

But the boat was upon them already, and they were soon to have a plenty
to eat, and the adventure after all had amounted to nothing but a little
inconvenience. It was all in a day's work, and already they had
forgotten the dismal night, or if they had not in fact forgotten it they
had at least put it behind them as an experience of small importance.

"Look sharp now, lads!" shouted the man at the sculling oar, as the boat
and the skiff, rising and falling upon the swell, approached each other.
"Look sharp! Now, heave her, b'y!"

And Jimmy, in the bow of the skiff, with coiled painter ready, tossed it
to one of the men. The boats were straightened out, the skiff drawn
alongside, and in a moment Jimmy and Bobby were aboard, with Skipper
Ed's skiff trailing behind.

"Why, it's Skipper Ed's partner an' Abel Zachariah's lad! My eyes! My
eyes now! And whatever brings you driftin' around the sea at this time
of the mornin', and with nary an oar?" exclaimed the man astern, who
proved to be Captain Higgles of the Newfoundland fishing schooner _Good
and Sure_, who for as long as the lads could remember had anchored for
at least one night each summer on his outward voyage down north, or on
his homeward voyage south, in the shelter of the island upon which
Skipper Ed had always fished, or behind Itigailit Island. And so it
happened that Captain Higgles recognized Bobby and Jimmy, and they
recognized him.

"Oh," explained Bobby, "we were getting ice off a berg yesterday, when
she shifted and turned us over and we lost our oars."

"Yesterday, was it? And so you young scallawags ha' been cruisin' about
since yesterday, eh, with nary an oar. Now listen t' that, b'ys!
Cruisin' around with nary an oar! My eyes! Oh, my eyes!" and the captain
roared with laughter, as though it were a great joke, and the four
seamen laughed with him.

"And neither of you'd be eatin' a biscuit, an' drinkin' a mug o' tea,
now, if you had un!" he continued. "I'll be bound both o' you young
daredevils'd turn up your nose at a mug o' tea and a biscuit, now.
Wouldn't ye?"

"No, sir," said Jimmy, "we wouldn't turn up our nose at anything good to
eat."

"I could eat the oarlocks this minute!" broke in Bobby.

At which Captain Higgles exclaimed, "My eyes! Oh, my eyes!" and indulged
in another burst of hearty guffaws.

"Well, b'ys," said the captain, "I know how you feels, an' I knows where
you'll get th' tea and th' biscuit. An' th' cook aboard th' _Good an'
Sure_'ll show you."

"Thank you," said Bobby.

'"Twere lucky I sees you," continued the captain. "There's a sick lad
with a rash aboard, an' it's a wonderful troublesome rash, and makes he
sick. I were just turnin' in t' see Skipper Ed, thinkin' he might know
what t' do for the little lad t' relieve he, when we sights you."

"What, sir!" exclaimed Jimmy, "are we as far south as that?"

"Aye," said the captain, "we're just t' th' s'uth'ard o' Skipper Ed's
fishin' place. An' weren't you comin' from there when you goes adrift?"

"No, sir," explained Jimmy. "Partner and I are down at Itigailit Island
with Abel Zachariah this year, and we went adrift from there."

"An' there we goes, then!" said the captain. "Another hour's sail, but
time saved. Lucky for you that we sights you, an' lucky for th' sick
lad, an' lucky for me--lucky all around. My eyes! 'Tis like t' be a
lucky day."

And so it came about that Bobby and Jimmy were presently aboard the
_Good and Sure_, satisfying an accumulated and vast appetite upon
Captain Higgles' good hardtack and tea, while the schooner laid her
course for Itigailit Island.

An hour later, as the captain had predicted, the _Good and Sure_ came to
off Abel Zachariah's fishing place, and almost before the anchor chains
had ceased rattling Skipper Ed and Abel pulled alongside in a boat and
were expressing their relief upon the safe return of the two lads, whose
sudden and unexplained disappearance had puzzled them and caused them a
deal of worry.

"I finds th' young scallawags driftin' around th' sea, and bearin' no
course whatever," explained Captain Higgles, "an' I picks un up as
salvage. But I don't want un. My eyes! I don't want un. I don't want any
such two scallawags as they about the _Good an' Sure_. They'd be causin'
me no end o' trouble, and you can have un free o' charge if you'll but
take a look at a sick lad I has below, sir, an' tell us what t' do for
un. 'Tis Hen. Blink's lad, sir. He has a wonderful rash all over he--my
eyes, 'tis a wonderful rash, and it makes th' lad sick."

Skipper Ed followed the captain to the cluttered little cabin, and Abel
and Jimmy and Bobby, curious to see the wonderful rash, also followed.

The lad, a boy of ten years or thereabouts, was stretched upon a bunk,
and he was indeed afflicted with a wonderful rash. The moment Skipper Ed
set eyes upon him his face assumed a very grave expression. He asked
several questions, which the child's mother answered, and then he asked
the boy:

"How you feeling, little lad?"

"Terrible sick," answered the boy, "but I'd be fine if I could go above
deck, sir."

"'Twill never do for you to go above deck with this rash," said Skipper
Ed, "but there'll be better luck by and by, lad; better luck, lad."

And then he directed the mother to give the child no cold drink, to keep
him below decks, and not on any account to permit him to become chilled
until the rash had disappeared and he felt quite well and normal again.
To this he added some simple directions as to food.

"Is I goin' t' die?" asked the boy anxiously.

"No, no, lad, not if you do as your mother tells you, now. You'll be
all right, but it'll be some time. Can't weigh your anchor and hoist
your sails for a little while. Better luck by and by, though."

"What's th' matter with un, Skipper?" asked Captain Higgles when they
were again on deck.

"Measles," answered Skipper Ed.

"Measles! Measles!" exclaimed the Captain in instant consternation. "My
eyes! Oh--my--eyes! And we're all like to cotch measles! And measles
kills folks! Oh--my--eyes! 'Tis like t' ruin th' v'yage!"

"'Tis too bad, but it can't be helped," Skipper Ed sympathized. "The lad
has the measles, and if any of you haven't had measles you're likely to
get 'em now. The only thing for you to do if any one breaks out with the
rash, is to treat him just as I said to treat the boy. Don't let 'em go
out or get chilled till the rash is well."

"My eyes!" said Captain Higgles. "Measles! 'Tis a wonderful dangerous
complaint. I minds when th' folks cotched un one summer in Black Run
Harbor, and most every one that cotched un died! Oh, my eyes!"

"Aye, 'tis like t' be a dangerous complaint down here on The Labrador,
where we folk have poor means for caring for our sick," agreed Skipper
Ed, dropping into the dialect of the people, as he often did when
conversing with them. "But you have a schooner, and you're not so badly
off as we are in our tents."

"My eyes!" repeated Captain Higgles. "Measles! 'Tis like t' ruin th'
v'yage!"

The _Good and Sure_ spread her canvas and sailed away that morning, and
quite as though nothing had occurred to disturb the even tenor of their
every-day existence Abel Zachariah and Skipper Ed and Bobby and Jimmy
turned their attention to jigging cod, and Mrs. Abel to splitting the
fish and spreading them to dry, and all worked from morning until night
each day, that none of the harvest might be lost, for that year there
was a plentiful run of fish.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13