Chapter 8

"Skipper Tom Ham'll be like to bring the dogs over from Lucky Bight now any day, with the bay fast," said Toby as they turned homeward. "I wants to get some more wood cut to haul with un when they comes, but we'll set some o' the marten traps up to-morrow and more of un later."

"Oh!" exclaimed Charley. "We've been doing so many things I forgot all about the dogs! Then we can travel with them?"

"Aye, we'll be cruisin' with un. 'Twill be a fine way for you to get used to un, helpin' me haul in the wood, and you'll be learnin' to drive un. We hauls in most of our wood in the spring, but they's some left to haul, and if I cuts more whilst they's a chanst before the snow gets too deep, we'll be haulin' that too, so there'll be plenty of un."

"How many dogs are there?" Charley asked eagerly.

"Eight of un," answered Toby, "and 'tis the best team on The Labrador, _I_ thinks. They's the real nu'thern dogs. Dad says the nu'thern dogs has more wolf in they than others has."

"Do they look like wolves?" Charley asked in some awe.

"Aye, they look so much like un you could scarce tell un from wolves, only they curls their tails up over their backs and wolves don't."

"Are they cross?" Charley inquired anxiously.

"I wouldn't call un cross," explained Toby. "I calls un sneaky. If they thinks they could down you, they'd do un quick enough. 'Tis best to carry a stick when you goes abroad among un, till you gets used to un and they gets used to you. They're wonderful scared of a stick."

"I'll carry a stick, but I'll make friends with them too. I like dogs."

"They's not like other dogs," warned Toby. "Maybe you won't be likin' they so much after you sees un."

"I can hardly wait till the dogs come! I've read so much about Eskimo dogs, but I never saw them pulling a sledge, and I know it's going to be great sport traveling with them."

"Soon as Tom brings un we'll start haulin' the wood. I'll have to be workin' wonderful hard cuttin' more, so we'll have un hauled before too late. The wood gets so deep under, that 'tis hard to dig un out o' the snow."

"I could look after the snares and fox traps," suggested Charley, "and you could cut wood. I can set up some more snares, too."

"Aye, now, you could look after un, whilst I cuts more wood. You knows from the tracks we makes where the traps are set, and you can find un. I'll be cuttin' no more wood after the next snow comes. 'Twill be gettin' too deep by then, and I'll not be havin' long to cut un."

"All right," and Charley was quite delighted with the prospect of responsibility, and the fact that Toby would trust him to go alone. "I'll start in to-morrow morning. May I carry your shotgun when I go?"

"Aye, carry un. You may be pickin' up some pa'tridges."

In accordance with this arrangement, Charley visited the rabbit snares and the fox traps alone the next morning, and returned quite elated with his experience, bringing with him three rabbits that he had found in snares and four spruce grouse that he had shot. It was dinner time when he appeared, and he reported to Toby, who had just reached the cabin after a morning chopping wood, that there was nothing in the fox traps, and that he had set up three new snares.

"That's fine, now," Toby praised. "I were knowin' you could 'tend the snares and traps alone. You can do un as well as I can."

"Thank you," said Charley, much elated at Toby's praise. "It was great fun."

For two more days Charley proudly followed the trail alone, and then came a morning with a heavily overcast sky, and a keen northeast wind blowing in from the bay. Toby predicted that it would snow before midday, and as Charley slipped his feet into his snowshoe slings, and shouldered Toby's gun preparatory to setting out to make the morning round of the traps and snares alone, Toby warned:

"If snow starts, 'twill be best to turn about and come home as soon as you sees un start. If she comes she'll cover the footin' wonderful fast, and you might be goin' abroad from the trail. The wind'll be risin' a bit, and if she blows hard 'twill make for nasty traveling and I'm thinkin' when the snow starts the wind'll come up quick, and be blowin' wonderful hard before you knows un."

"Oh, I'll be all right," Charley assured confidently. "I ought to know my way by this time, even if the snow does cover my tracks."

"'Twill be safer to turn back," said Toby. "Don't go to the fox traps. 'Twill do no harm to let un stand over a day."

Charley had reached the last of the rabbit snares before the first flakes of the threatened storm fell. He had three rabbits in a game bag slung over his shoulder, and he was hesitating as to whether or not he should visit the fox traps or heed Toby's warning to turn back, when he was startled by a flock of ptarmigans, or "white pa'tridges," as Toby called them, rising at the edge of the marsh.

The partridges flew a short distance out upon the marsh, and alighted upon the snow. Charley could see them plainly. They offered a good shot, and it would be a feat to bag some of them.

Quite excited with the prospect, he followed them, and with careful stalking brought down two, one with each barrel of his gun. Startled by the shots, the remainder of the flock flew farther into the open marsh, and elated with his success Charley picked up the two birds he had killed, and following the flock soon succeeded in bagging two more. The next flight was much farther, but he overtook them and shot a fifth bird. They now took a long flight, and were lost in the mist of snow, which was now falling thickly.

Forgetting all caution, Charley continued to follow in the direction in which the birds had disappeared. On and on he went without a thought of danger. He was sure the birds had not gone far, and he must have one more shot at them before turning back.

All at once, he found himself in a rocky, barren region. He had crossed the marsh, and was rising upon higher ground. This must certainly, he concluded, be a barren beyond the marsh of which Toby had told him, and he suddenly realized that he had gone much farther than he had yet ventured.

In the brief space of time since he had last flushed the birds the wind had risen and was fast gaining strength. Already the snow was drifting so thickly that he could not see the marsh, which lay between the barrens and the forest. But still he was not alarmed.

"I've got five of them anyway," he said exultantly, looking into his bag and admiring the beautiful white birds. "Toby said it was some stunt to shoot ptarmigans. I guess he'll think now that I can shoot most as well as he can."

With no other thought than that he could find his way to the marsh and across it to the forest without difficulty, he turned to retrace his steps.

"Even if I can't see far, I can follow my tracks I made coming in," he said confidently. "That'll be dead easy."

Every moment the wind was rising, and the storm was increasing in fury. Before he had reached the marsh, the gale was sweeping the snow before it in suffocating clouds, and he was forced frequently to turn his back upon it that he might catch his breath.

Presently Charley realized that he had lost the trail of his snowshoe prints, but still confident that he could find it he searched first to the right and then to the left, but nowhere could he discover it.

Then it was that he became anxious, and a vague fear fell upon him, and he rushed madly about in vain search of some sign that would guide him. He could scarcely see twenty feet away, and nowhere within his limited range of vision was a rock or bush or anything that he had ever before seen. Suddenly he knew that he was lost. The thought fell upon him like an overwhelming disaster. All at once he was seized by wild terror. He must find the forest or he would perish! The snow was suffocating him, and his legs were atremble with the effort he had put forth.

Dazed and uncertain he stood, with the wind swirling the snow about him, and then, with no sense of direction, like a panic-stricken animal, he plunged away into the storm.

FOOTNOTE: [5] Old harbour seal.

XVI

A WALL OF SNOW

Several times he fell, and regaining his feet rushed madly and blindly about in vain hope of finding the lost trail and escaping the doom that seemed closing in upon him. The snow clouds were like dense walls, and he, like a child, in puny effort wildly trying to batter them down to gain his freedom.

Finally exhaustion overtook him, and with it a degree of reason. His legs were weak and quivering with their effort. He began to realize that he had been depending upon them to extricate him from the trackless marsh in which he wandered, instead of using reason. Limp and trembling as a result of the mad fear that had taken possession of him, and the tremendous physical exertion he had been putting forth, he stopped and with wild, still frightened eyes gazed at the walls of snow that surrounded him like an impassable barrier.

Then his brain began to function and his reason to return. He knew that he must reach the cover of the forest, where the trees would shelter him from the blasts that swept the marsh. There he would find some measure of protection at least, and in any case the forest lay between him and the cabin at Double Up Cove.

He recalled that time and again Toby had said to him, "Dad's wonderful fine at gettin' out o' fixes, and he always does un by usin' his head." And Skipper Zeb himself had said, "When a man gets into a fix 'tis mostly because he don't use his head, and 'tis his head has to get he out of un. His legs and his hands won't help he, unless his head tells un what to do."

That was logical and reasonable. He was now in a "fix," and a worse fix indeed than that in which he and Toby had found themselves on Swile Island. Charley crouched with his back to the snow-laden blasts while he tried to gather his senses and his poise, and these thoughts flashing through his mind, gave him courage. It was bitterly cold and he knew that he must soon find shelter or he would perish. In his mad panic, he had not only lost knowledge of direction, but had expended much of his strength.

Slowly it occurred to him that the wind blew across the marsh from the direction of the forest and toward the barrens, and was in his back when he followed the ptarmigans. This being the case, he reasoned, he must _face_ the wind to regain the forest.

He was somewhere in the marsh. He knew that. The forest must lie _up_ the wind. It was suffocating and paralyzing work to face it, but in that direction alone lay the only chance for escape and safety. His very life depended upon reaching the forest, and reaching it soon, and he turned boldly to it.

With renewed courage, he fought his way forward step by step. He would walk but a little way, when dense snow clouds would force him to turn his back upon them to regain his breath. But he kept going, now and again stumbling and falling and then getting to his feet again to stumble on a little farther. The distance seemed interminable, and several times he was on the point of giving up the struggle in despair.

Then it was that he collided with a tree. An outpost of the forest! His heart leaped with hope. With renewed vigour he plunged forward into wind and snow cloud, and a moment later was under the blessed shelter of the trees.

The wind raged through the tree tops, but the thick growth of the spruce forest protected him. He did not know where he was, and could see no familiar thing. Finally, too weary to go farther, he crawled under the low branches of a tree to rest.

Charley was dozing and half unconscious when a distant crash startled him into wakefulness. What could it have been? He listened intently. Then it came again, and he sprang to his feet excitedly. He had no doubt now. It was the report of a rifle, and some one was within hearing.

Through all his struggle in the marsh, Charley had unconsciously clung to Toby's shotgun. He fired one barrel, and then the other. An answering shot rang out above the roar of the wind, and not so far away now. He ran in the direction from which it came. Then came another shot, now quite near, and a moment later he saw Toby hurrying toward him.

Charley's heart leaped with joy and relief. How good Toby looked! Dear Toby, who always seemed to be on hand when he was needed!

"You looks fair scragged!" greeted Toby. "Were you gettin' lost?"

"Lost--I was lost out on the barrens and the marsh!" and Charley was scarce able to choke back tears of joy and relief.

Toby after the manner of woodsmen had brought his ax. He quickly cut some wood, and in a few moments had a rousing fire. Then he cut some poles, and made a lean-to, which he thatched thickly with boughs, and within it made a couch of boughs where they could sit before the fire protected from the storm.

While Toby prepared and broiled two of the ptarmigans, Charley told the story of his experiences.

"I was scared stiff," said Charley in closing. "If I had done as you told me to do, and gone straight home when the snow began it wouldn't have happened. But I didn't know a storm could come up like that, or how bad it could get in a few minutes."

"You were usin' your head when you goes up the wind, and that gets you out of a wonderful bad fix," said Toby. "Dad says the only way to get out of fixes is to use your head, and he knows."

There was never a word of reproach from Toby for not having heeded his advice, and for this Charley was grateful.

XVII

SKIPPER ZEB'S DOGS

Long Tom Ham was glad to have the care of Skipper Zeb's dogs during the summer. There was always enough food from the sea for them during the fishing season, and a supply of seal meat from the spring sealing to feed them in the fall, after the fishing season was ended. And to compensate him for caring for the dogs, he had them to haul his winter's wood in from the forest, before returning them to Skipper Zeb, which he always did after the bay was frozen and his fall hauling was finished.

In summer, with no work to do, and as much to eat as ever they wished, the dogs were sleek and fat and lazy, and quite harmless. But with the close of the fishing season they were given but one meal a day, and that in the evening, and only enough to keep them strong and in good condition, for fat dogs will not work well.

With frosty weather and less food they roused from their lethargy. Then it was that they became savage, snapping creatures, with no more affection for man than has the wild wolf, which was their ancestor. Long Tom Ham declared that Skipper Zeb's dogs were the most "oncivil team of dogs he ever knew."

Toby and Charley, a week after the big storm, were returning home at midday after a morning in the forest setting marten traps, when, just as they came around the corner of the cabin, and the bay below them came into view, Toby exclaimed:

"There's Skipper Tom comin' with the dogs and komatik!"[6]

For the first time in his life Charley saw dogs in harness. They were still a half mile away, the animals spread out in fan-shaped formation, and trotting leisurely. As they approached nearer the cabin they broke into a run, as though eager to reach their destination, and with short yelps swung off of the ice and came charging up to the cabin where Charley and Toby were awaiting them.

Skipper Tom Ham, his beard encrusted with ice, disembarked from the komatik, and Charley thought him the tallest man he had ever seen.

"'Ere I ham, and 'ow are you hall?" greeted Skipper Tom through his ice mask, as he extended a hand to Toby and then to Charley.

"We're all well," said Toby. "Were you gettin' your wood all hauled?"

"Aye, hall my wood is 'auled, and I'm most thankful I 'ad the dogs to 'aul un, and most thankful to be rid of un. So Hi'm twice thankful," said Skipper Tom following Toby and Charley into the house to join them at dinner, picking the ice from his beard as he talked.

"Them's the most honcivil dogs I knows," remarked Skipper Tom, as he ate. "Hi comes 'ome from my traps last hevenin' and I sees Martha sittin' hup on the scaffold where I keeps the dog meat, and the dogs hall haround lookin' at 'er. When she sees me she yells the dogs be hafter 'er, and I says to 'er that they thinks she his goin' to feed 'em, and she says she thinks they his goin' to heat 'er. Hi tells 'er to come down, and she comes, and when we gets hinto the 'ouse she says, 'Tom, you take them dogs right hover to Skipper Zeb's,' and so Hi brings the honcivil beasts hover."

Tom chuckled at the recollection of his wife's fear and her appearance on the scaffold the evening before. When he was through he said he must return at once, or Martha would think the dogs had eaten him. Toby suggested taking Skipper Tom home with dogs and komatik, but Skipper Tom declined on the ground that it was just a wee bit of a walk, and he would rather walk and look for partridges along shore as he went. The ten mile walk to Lucky Bight was no hardship to Skipper Tom.

The coming of the dogs was an exciting incident to Charley. They were big, handsome creatures, though with a fierce, evil look, and a sneaking manner that made Charley feel uncomfortable when they were loosed from harness, and had liberty to prowl about at will.

"'Tis a wonderful team," Toby declared proudly. "They comes from Nuth'ard dogs, though we raises they all from pups. Some of un has wild wolves for fathers. Tinker there is one, and so are Rocks and Sampson. They comes from the same litter. That un over there is Nancy. I names she from a schooner that calls at Pinch-In Tickle every spring. That un next she, with the end of his tail gone, is Traps. Whilst he were a pup he gets the end of his tail in a trap, and loses the end of un. I remember his howlin' yet! Nancy and Traps be brother and sister. Tucker and Skipper and Molly are the names of the others. We gets un from the Post when they's just weaned and are wee pups. They tells us they has wild wolf fathers too, but I'm not knowin'."

"That man that brought them told me, when I went to pat one of them on the head, that they were bad, and not to touch them," said Charley.

"You can't trust un," admitted Toby. "I knows un all, and I plays with un when they's pups, but if I were trippin' and fallin' down among un now, I'm not doubtin' they's tear me abroad."

"After you raised them from pups, and always had them, and feed them and everything?" asked Charley, horrified at the suggestion.

"Aye, they has no care for man, and whilst they'll mind me a wonderful sight better than they'd be mindin' a stranger to un, they'd be tearin' me abroad if they has the chance just like a band o' wolves," warned Toby.

"They don't look so terrible, though they do look sneaky, as you told me the other day they are," said Charley.

"Aye, sneaky, and as I tells you, 'tis never safe to go abroad among un unless you has a stick in your hand, and if they comes close strike at un. They're wonderful afraid of a stick. When they gets used to you, just kick at un, and 'twill keep un off, and then you won't be needin' a stick."

"I'll look out for them," Charley promised.

"Tinker's the leader in harness," said Toby. "He were always quick to learn, and I trains he whilst he were a pup when I plays with he before he's big enough to drive with the other dogs. Sampson's the boss, and out of harness he has his will of un. He's a bad fighter."

"He's an ugly looking brute," observed Charley.

"With the dogs about you'll be wantin' to learn to use the whip," suggested Toby. "They fears un worse than a stick. 'Tis fine sport to learn to crack un, and you'll soon learn to do that, whatever."

Toby brought forth the dog whip. It was a cruel looking instrument, with a lash of braided walrus hide, thirty-five feet in length, and a heavy wooden handle about eighteen inches long. Toby was quite expert in its use. He could snap it with a report like a pistol shot, and at twenty-five or thirty feet distance he could, with the tip of the whip, strike a chip that was no bigger than a half dollar. When he had given an exhibition of his skill, he passed the whip to Charley.

"Now you try to snap un," said he.

It was great fun learning to handle the long whip, and though in his first awkward attempts Charley sometimes wound the lash around his own neck, where it left a red, smarting ring, with much practice he learned, in the course of two or three days, to snap it fairly well and without danger to himself.

During the days that followed Toby and Charley used the dogs and sledge, or komatik, as Toby called it, to haul wood that Toby had cut in the near-by forest. During this time Charley was gradually becoming familiar with the dogs, and sometimes Toby would permit him to guide the komatik, though he himself was always present to exact obedience from the team.

The wood hauling was done in the afternoon, while the mornings were devoted to a visit to the rabbit snares and several marten traps, which Toby had set in the woods, and to the two fox traps on the marsh. Five fine martens had been caught, but no fox had been lured into either trap, when Toby suggested one morning, three weeks after the arrival of the dogs, that they drive the team on the coast ice to a point opposite the marsh, and by a short cut through the forest drive out upon the marsh.

"I'm thinkin' if we moves the fox traps from the mesh to the barrens we'd be gettin' a fox there," said he. "'Twould be a long walk out to the barrens to tend un, but if we takes the dogs and komatik we'd have good travelin' for un everywhere exceptin' through the short neck of woods."

"Let's do!" Charley agreed enthusiastically. "It'll be a lot quicker, and it will give us a fine trip with the dogs every day when we go to look at the traps."

And so it was arranged, and so it came to pass that on that very day Charley met with his first adventure with the dogs, and a most unusual one it was, as Toby declared.

While it was nearly twice as far to the marsh by this roundabout route, the bay ice was in excellent condition for the dogs, and they traveled so briskly that they arrived at the point where they were to turn into the woods much too soon for Charley. Here in the deep snow it was necessary for them to tramp a trail for the dogs with their snowshoes, but the distance was short to the marsh, and once there the dogs again had a good hard bottom to walk upon.

Toby took up the two fox traps, and drove the team to the edge of the barrens, where the dogs were brought to a stop, and under the threat of the whip compelled to lie down.

"'Tis rocky and bad travelin' in here, and if we takes the komatik we'll have to help the dogs pull un some places," said Toby. "The wind sends the snow abroad from the rocks, and plenty of places they're bare. I'm thinkin' now if you stays with the dogs and komatik, I'll go and set the traps. I'll be back in half an hour, whatever."

"All right," agreed Charley. "I'll stay with them."

"If they tries to get up, take the whip and make un lie down," Toby directed. "Keep un lyin' down."

Toby strode away upon his snowshoes, and quickly disappeared over a low knoll. For the first time Charley was alone with the dogs, and he felt some pride in the fact that they were under his direction.

Suddenly Sampson became restless, and he and Tinker rose to their feet. Charley snapped the whip over them, and reluctantly they lay down.

But it was only for a moment. All of the dogs had their noses in the air, and before Charley could quiet them they were all on their feet restlessly sniffing the air. Charley swung the whip, and shouted at them to lie down, but they were beyond his control, and would not lie down, but jumped and strained at their traces, giving out short whines and howls. He struck at Sampson with the butt end of the whip, and Sampson snapped at him with ugly fangs, and would have sprung upon him had the dog's trace not held him in leash.