Billy Topsail, M.D.. Duncan Norman

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СКАЧАТЬ Cracker, of this profane, rowdy crew, sidled to the sled. This was in small advances – a sly encroachment at a time. His object was plain to the pack. It was theft. They watched him in a trance of expectant interest. What would happen to Cracker? Wait and see! Follow Cracker? Oh, wait and see, first, what happened to Cracker. And Cracker sniffed at the tumbled robes. The pack lifted its noses and sniffed, too, and opened its eyes wide, and exchanged opinions, and kept watch, in swift, scared glances, on Billy Topsail; and came squirming nearer, as though with some intention altogether remote from the one precisely in mind.

      From this intrusion – appearing to be merely an impudent investigation – Cracker was driven off with a quick, light clip of the butt of the walrus whip on the snout. "Keep the brutes down! Keep un down – ecod! – an' no trouble would come of it." And down went Cracker. He leaped away and bristled, and snarled, and crawled, whimpering then, to his distance; whereupon the pack took warning. Confound the man! – he was too quick with the whip. Cracker had intended no mischief, had he?

      After that the big Cracker curled up and sulked himself to sleep.

      "I 'low we're close t' Ginger Head," said Billy Topsail.

      "Ah, no, b'y."

      "I seed the nose o' the Scotchman's Breakfast a while back."

      "We're t' the south o' that by three mile."

      "We isn't."

      "We is."

      "Ah, well, anyhow we'll stop the night where we is. The snow blinds a man."

      "That's grievous," Teddy Brisk complained. "I wisht we was over the barricades an' safe ashore. The bay's all rotten. My mother says – "

      "You isn't timid, is you?"

      "Me? No. My mother says – "

      "Ah, you is a bit timid, Teddy."

      "Who? Me? I is not. But my mother says the wind would just – "

      "Just a wee bit timid!"

      "Ah, well, Billy, I isn't never been out overnight afore. An' my mother says if the wind blows a gale from the west, south or sou'west – "

      "Never you mind about that, Skipper Teddy. We've something better t' think about than the way the wind blows. The wind's full o' notions. I've no patience t' keep my humour waitin' on what she does. Now you listen t' me: I got bread, an' I got 'lasses, an' I got tea, an' I got a kettle. I got birch all split t' hand, t' save the weight of an axe on the komatik; an' I got birch rind, an' I got matches. 'Twill be a scoff" – feast – "Skipper Teddy. Mm-m! Ecod! My belly's in a clamour o' greed. The only thing I isn't got is dog meat. Save for that, Skipper Teddy, we're complete."

      Teddy Brisk renewed his complaint.

      "I wisht," said he, "the wind would switch t' sea. Once on a time my grand – "

      "Never you mind about that."

      "Once on a time my grandfather was cotched by the snow in a gale o' wind off – "

      "Ah, you watch how clever I is at makin' a fire on the ice! Never you mind about the will o' the wind. 'Tis a foolish habit t' fall into."

      Billy Topsail made the fire. The dogs squatted in the offing. Every eye was on the operation. It was interesting, of course. Nothing escaped notice. Attention was keen and inclusive. It would flare high – a thrill ran through the wide-mouthed, staring circle – and expire in disappointment. Interesting, to be sure: yet going into camp on the ice was nothing out of the way. The man would spend the night where he was – that was all. It portended no extraordinary departure from the customs – no opportunity. And the man was alert and capable. No; nothing stimulating in the situation – nothing to be taken advantage of.

      Billy Topsail was laughing. Teddy Brisk chattered all the while. Neither was in difficulty. Nor was either afraid of anything. It was not an emergency. There was no release of authority. And when the circumstances of the affair, at last, had turned out to be usual in every respect, interest lapsed, as a matter of course; and the pack, having presently exhausted the distraction of backbiting, turned in to sleep, helped to this good conduct by a crack of the whip.

      "Not another word out o' you!" Billy Topsail scolded. "You'll be fed full the morrow."

      Almost at once it fell very dark. The frost increased; the snow turned to dry powder and the wind jumped to half a gale, veering to the sou'west. Teddy Brisk, with the bread and tea and molasses stowed away where bread and tea and molasses best serve such little lads as he, was propped against the komatik, wrapped up in his dogskin robes as snug as you like. The fire was roaring, and the circle of the night was safe and light and all revealed, in its flickering blaze and radiant, warm red glow.

      Billy Topsail fed the fire hot; and Billy Topsail gave Teddy Brisk riddles to rede; and Billy Topsail piped Teddy Brisk a song or two – such a familiar song of the coast as this:

      'Way down on Pigeon Pond Island,

      When daddy comes home from swilein'

      Maggoty fish hung up in the air,

      Fried in maggoty butter;

      Cakes an' tea for breakfast,

      Pork an' duff for dinner,

      Cakes an' tea for supper —

      'Way down on Pigeon Pond Island,

      When daddy comes home from swilein'.1

      Whatever was bitter and inimical in the wind and dark and driving mist of snow was chased out of mind by the warm fire and companionable behaviour.

      It was comfortable on the ice: it was a picnic – a bright adventure; and Teddy Brisk was as cozy and dry and content as —

      "I likes it, Billy," said he. "I jus' fair loves it here!"

      "You does, b'y? I'm proud o' you!"

      "'Way out here on the ice. Mm-m! Yes, sirree! I'm havin' a wonderful happy time, Billy."

      "I'm glad o' that now!"

      "An' I feels safe – "

      "Aye, b'y!"

      "An' I'm's warm – "

      "Sure, you is!"

      "An' I'm's sleepy – "

      "You go t' sleep, lad."

      "My mother says, if the wind – "

      "Never you mind about that. I'll take care o' you – never fear!"

      "You would, in a tight place, wouldn't you, Billy, b'y?"

      "Well, I 'low I would!"

      "Yes, sirree! You'd take care o' me!"

      "You go t' sleep, lad, an' show yourself an old hand at stoppin' out overnight."

      "Aye, Billy; but my mother says – "

      "Never you mind about that."

      "Ah, well, my mother – "

      And Teddy Brisk fell asleep.

      CHAPTER СКАЧАТЬ