The Wilderness Castaways. Dillon Wallace

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СКАЧАТЬ as the Almighty Artist paints into His sunsets upon the sky of the Arctic and sub-Arctic regions. The sunset on this occasion was unusually gorgeous. Brilliant reds shaded up into opalescent purples, deep orange into lighter yellow, reaching to the very dome of heaven. The water reflected the red, and the North Star seemed steaming through a mighty heaving, throbbing sea of blood. It was as though the earth’s very heart had been laid bare.

      For a long time it lasted. Paul and his friends stood enthralled. It made them breathe deeply. They felt that they were in the presence of some mighty power, that very near them was the Master Himself, He who guides the world in its eternal journey, and holds in their places the innumerable millions of stars and untold other worlds that reach out into infinite space.

      “Isn’t this wonderful—wonderful!” exclaimed Paul, at the end of a period of breathless awe.

      “I never saw anything to compare with it!” declared Ainsworth. “It’s beyond the dreams of my wildest imagination!”

      “It’s nowhere but in the North that such sunsets are ever seen,” said Remington.

      “Fine sunset, sir. Fine sunset,” remarked Captain Bluntt, as he passed them on his way to the chart house.

      “It promises a good day tomorrow, doesn’t it?” asked Remington

      “Not so sure of that, sir. Not so sure of that.”

      Captain Bluntt’s pessimistic prophecy of the morrow’s weather was well founded. When day broke the sea was enveloped in a blanket of fog—thick, stifling, impenetrable. The rigging dripped moisture, the decks were wet and slippery, the atmosphere was heavy, clammy, difficult to breathe.

      For two days the fog lay over the sea like a pall. The North Star, her engines working at slow speed, felt her way cautiously, for she was in uncharted waters. The tremendous tides of Ungava Bay render navigation here dangerous, even under the most favorable conditions, and Captain Bluntt was not the man to take undue risks, though he was a fearless seaman, and in his time had done many dashing and daring deeds, when circumstances had demanded.

      Following the fog came several hours of cold dismal rain, accompanied by sleet. Then the clouds broke, and as though some fairy hand had brushed them away, the sky cleared and the sun shone warm and beautiful to cheer the depressed world.

      “And there lies Cape Wolstenholm, sir,” said Captain Bluntt, pointing toward a low-lying coast off their port bow. “We’ll soon be in Hudson Bay now, sir, and what’s your pleasure?”

      “While the fine weather holds I think we’d better do some fishing,” answered Remington. “Besides, I think we all want to get ashore to stretch our legs.”

      “As you say—as you say, sir! But we’ll have to locate some huskies, sir, and get a native pilot.”

      Upon rounding Cape Wolstenholm, which occupies the northwestern extremity of the Labrador peninsula, the ship swung in close to the coast, and, proceeding with great care, the leadsman calling his fathoms, felt its way between several small islands, until, the following morning, a safe anchorage was found outside a large island near the head of Mosquito Bay.

      “We’ll be sure to find huskies up this bay, sir,” assured Captain Bluntt. “We can’t risk the ship any farther, sir. It won’t do, sir. But it’s a short run for the power boat to the head of that bay, and unless I’m mistaken there’ll be plenty of huskies there, sir. Yes, sir, plenty of ’em. I’ll send Tom Hand. Tom Hand speaks their lingo. Tom! Tom Hand!” he called.

      “Aye, aye, sir.”

      “Go ashore, Tom. We wants a husky pilot; a good one. A good husky, now! Dan! Here, you rascal! Go ashore with Tom, and help him look after things!”

      “Come, fellows, we’ll go along,” suggested Remington to Ainsworth and Paul. “We’ll not be in the way, will we, Captain.”

      “No, no! Go ashore if you likes. Better take some grub with you. Dan, tell the cook to put up some grub! Look sharp, now!”

      Presently they were off, pointing toward the head of the inner bay. Paul took three or four shots at harbor seals which raised their heads now and again above the water, but always missed them.

      “’Tis wonderful hard t’ hit un from a boat,” said Tom.

      Soon they discovered a column of smoke rising from the north shore.

      “There un is! Turn she int’ th’ smoke, Dan,” directed Tom. “Th’ huskies is camped in there. Th’ smoke is a signal t’ call us t’ un. They’s seen us.”

      Dan swung the boat in, and upon rounding a point and entering a cove two skin tents or wigwams were discovered, and several people gathered upon the shore as if expecting them.

      “There’s th’ huskies, an’ their families; leastways they has two tupeks,” commented Tom.

      “Tupeks?” asked Paul.

      “Aye—skin tents. In summer they lives in skin tents, an’ in winter in snow igloos.”

      “They seem to be all men and boys,” said Paul.

      “No, they’s women too, but husky women wears trousers. You’ll see th’ difference when we comes closter.”

      “Well, they are a rocky looking crowd!” exclaimed Paul.

      There were two men, three women and four children, one a half-grown girl. All wore skin garments and were bareheaded, their long black hair, coarse and straight, reaching to the shoulders. One of the women carried an infant in her hood, and its round, bright eyes peered wonderingly over the mother’s shoulders at the intruders.

      “Oksunae,” greeted Tom upon stepping ashore.

      “Oksunae,” answered the Eskimos, who came forward laughing to shake hands with their visitors, their round, greasy faces beaming good nature and welcome.

      Tom began his negotiations at once, conversing with the Eskimos in their native tongue, for they could understand no English.

      “Ainsworth and I are going up this stream a little way to try the salmon. Want to go along, Paul?” asked Remington.

      “No, I’ll get fishing enough later. Guess I’ll stay and look this crowd over.”

      “All right. Don’t make eyes at that young Eskimo girl.”

      “No fear!”

      Skulking about were several big, vicious looking dogs, which reminded Paul of timber wolves he had seen at the Zoo.

      “I don’t like the looks of those beasts,” said he. “Are they dangerous?”

      “They’re cowards so long as you keeps on your feet an’ has somethin’ handy to beat un with,” reassured Dan. “Your gun’ll do for that. But let un get th’ best o’ you once, an’ they’ll just rip you up like wolves. They is wolves.”

      “They look it,” agreed Paul.

      The lads wandered about the encampment, examining the kayaks and crude hunting implements and paraphernalia of the Eskimos. Upon approaching the tupeks a stench met their nostrils, which they found came from half putrid seal meat and fish within.

      “They СКАЧАТЬ