Part 11 (2/2)

”Just up the cove--the nearest of those two,” answered Risk.

”I guess I'll have a look at his outfit, and then go and meet the boys at the block-house, for they have never been here before, and the track can't be very plain now.” So saying, La Salle skated up to the Indian stand, almost half a mile distant.

”One-armed Peter,” as he was commonly called among his tribesmen, had neither the means nor the inclination to deviate much from the traditionary usages of his tribe, and was found kneeling, or, rather, ”sitting man-fas.h.i.+on,” as the vernacular Micmac hath it, although we call it ”tailor-fas.h.i.+on,” within a circular, fort-like enclosure, some twelve feet in circ.u.mference, and with walls about three feet high.

The latter were composed of thick slabs of ice placed on edge, and cemented together by frozen water, while tiny apertures, cut here and there, enabled the crouching hunters to note every foot of the approach of their wary game. A few of the decoys were of pine wood, rudely carved out and _burnt_ to something like the natural coloring of the bird they were intended to represent; but a large proportion of them were ”sea-weed” or ”spruce” decoys; that is, bunches of the weather-bound sea-wrack, or bundles of evergreen twigs, made about the shape and size of the body of a goose.

These were elevated on blocks of snow-ice, which strikingly imitated, at a little distance, the hue of the under feathers, and a fire-blackened stake set in the ice, at one end, with a collar of white birch bark at its junction, completed the rude but effective imitation. Such are the appliances which a hundred years ago brought the geese in thousands under the arrows of all the many tribes which range between the Straits of Canso and the most northern inhabited regions about Hudson's Bay.

Within the enclosure a few armfuls of fir branches--laid upon the hard ice, and kept carefully clear of snow, formed a soft floor, on which now sat three hunters, Peter, and Jacob, and Louis Snake, much younger men than he of the one arm. Each sat enveloped in the folds of a dingy blanket, and their guns rested against the icy walls--two of them rickety, long-barreled flint-locks; but Peter's new acquisition, a true ”stub-twist,” Hollis's double, was as good a fowling-piece as any sportsman needs.

True to their customs, the Indians were taciturn enough, although Peter thanked La Salle rather warmly for his new weapon.

”I find 'em good gun; not miss since I got 'em. Give t'other gun my nethew.” And he pointed to the worst looking of the two antiquated weapons, as Cleopatra may have surveyed her rather costly drink-offering, with visible misgiving as to such reckless liberality.

”You were very kind, Peter. I suppose he has no family,” said La Salle, smiling.

”Yes, me _berry_ kind my peeple,” suavely responded the chief, a just pride beaming in his eyes. ”That young man no family yet--only squaw now.”

”It is evident that the average Indian doesn't understand a joke,”

muttered La Salle, as he said ”Good by” to the motley trio, and darted off to meet a distant group, which he rightly judged to be the expected boys.

Twenty minutes later he had joined the little party, who were proceeding at a slow dog-trot around the sh.o.r.es, instead of taking the direct course across the ice, which, being deemed unsafe by them, had wisely been avoided; for no one can be too cautious on ice of which they know nothing.

George Waring, the only son of La Salle's employer, skated ahead of his companion, who was evidently of other than Caucasian origin, in part at least. The skater was a tall, fresh-complexioned, slender youth, of about seventeen, bold, active, and graceful in his movements, but having the appearance of one whose growth had been a little too rapid for an equal development of health and strength; and indeed it was only on condition that he should submit carefully to the directions of La Salle that his father had consented to the present expedition.

His companion was, perhaps, a year older, but rather short and thick-set, with features in which the high cheek-bones and coppery hue of the American showed very prominently. La Salle had fallen in with him at the Seven Islands, on the Labrador coast, the year before, and employed him as a pilot to the Straits of Belle Isle. He called himself Regnar Orloff, was of tremendous strength for one of his years, and although apparently lazy, and somewhat fleshy, could move quickly enough, and to purpose, in time of need.

Now, however, he rested one knee on the only unoccupied portion of a large, light sled, drawn by the third member of the party, a powerful dog of the Newfoundland species, which he was evidently training into some little excellence as a sledge-dog. It was only an added virtue, even if complete; for n.o.ble old Carlo had already excellences enough to canonize a dozen individual canines. He was strong, sagacious, peaceably inclined, but a terrible foe when aroused; could eat anything, carry a man in the water, watch any place, team, or article, hold a horse, beat for snipe or woodc.o.c.k, lie motionless anywhere you might designate, retrieve anywhere on land, water, or ice, and loved a gun as well as his young master, La Salle.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”WELL, GEORGE, YOU'RE HERE AT LAST.”--Page 127.]

”Well, George, you're here at last,” cried La Salle, as he came up. ”How is everything in town, and what's the news?”

”O, nothing out of the common. All are well. The governor gave a ball Wednesday, and the House dissolves next week. We've had plenty of geese to eat, but we wanted to kill some; and so here we are.”

”How are you, Regnie? Getting tired of civilization, and wanting to get back to the ice?”

”Ha, ha, ha! Yes, master, just so. After I see Paris and Copenhagen, I do very well, keep quite satisfied. But when I shut up in large city like C., I think it too much. I feel lonesome, want to get back to the wild'ness.”

”And how does Carlo learn sleighing?”

”O, he does well enough. He can't be taught right, for it would be too bad to use Greenland whip; but I make this little one, and can drive very well;” and as he spoke, he held up a wand of supple whalebone, tipped with a slender ”snapper” of plaited leather, and lightly touching the n.o.ble animal with the harmless implement, the dog gave a playful bark, and started off on an easy trot.

”We strike off here for those black specks yonder,” said La Salle; ”but what is coming behind us, George?”

”O, that is Dolland, Venner, and that set; and I guess they'll have 'a high old time,' and no mistake.”

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