Ungava by R. M. Ballantyne (the best e book reader txt) 📕

child must have been wounded, if not killed, by the savage animal; but his mind was immediately relieved on this point by Edith herself, who was no sooner laid on her bed than she recovered sufficiently to narrate the circumstances attending her fall.

“Well, Maximus,” said Stanley, returning to the hall and applying to the bulky savage the term that seemed most appropriate to him, “shake hands with me, my good fellow. You’ve saved Chimo’s life, it seems; and that’s a good turn I’ll not forget. But a—. I see you don’t understand a word I say. Hallo! Moses, Moses! you deaf rascal, come here!” he shouted, as that worthy passed the window.

“Yis, mossue,” said Moses, entering the hall. “Oh, me! what a walrus am dis! Me do b’lieve him most high as a tree an’ more broader nor iveryt’ing!”

“Hold thy tongue, Moses, and ask the fellow where he came from; but tell him first that I’m obliged to him for saving Chimo from that villainous wolf.”

While Moses interpreted, Arnalooa and Okatook, being privileged members of the tribe, crossed over to Edith’s room.

“Well, what says he?” inquired Stanley, at the end of a long address which the giant had delivered to Moses.

“Him say he heered we have come to trade, from Eskeemo to west’ard, and so him come for to see us.”

“A most excellent reason,” said Stanley. “Has he brought any furs?”

“Yis; him brought one two fox, and two t’ree deer. No have much furs in dis country, him say.”

“Sorry to hear that. Perhaps his opinion may change when he sees the inside of our store. But I would like him to stay about the fort as a hunter, Moses; he seems a first-rate man. Ask him if he will consent to stay for a time.”

“P’raps he fuss-rate, p’raps not,” muttered Moses in a disparaging tone, as he turned to put the question.

“Him say yis.”

“Very good; then take him to your house, Moses, and give him some food and a pipe, and teach him English as fast as you can, and see that it is grammatical. D’ye hear?”

“Yis, mossue, me quite sure for to teach him dat.”

As Moses turned to quit the hall, Stanley called him back. “Ask Maximus, by-the-bye, if he knows anything of a party of Esquimaux who seem to have been attacked, not long ago, by Indians in this neighbourhood.”

No sooner was this question put than the face of Maximus, which had worn a placid, smiling expression during the foregoing conversation, totally changed. His brows lowered, and his lips were tightly compressed, as he regarded Stanley for a few moments ere he ventured to reply. Then, in a deep, earnest tone, he related the attack, the slaughter of his people, their subsequent escape, and the loss of his bride. Even Moses was agitated as he went on, and showed his teeth like an enraged mastiff when the Esquimau came to speak of his irreparable loss.

“Stay one moment,” said Stanley, when Maximus concluded. “I have something to show you;” and hastening into his room, he quickly returned with the little piece of sealskin that had been found at the deserted Indian camp. “Do you know anything of this, Maximus? Do you understand these marks?”

The Esquimau uttered a cry of surprise when his eye fell on the piece of skin, and he seemed much agitated while he put several quick, earnest questions to Moses, who replied as earnestly and quickly; then turning rapidly on his heel, he sprang through the doorway, and was soon lost to view in the stunted woods of the ravine above the fort.

“That fellow seems in a hurry,” exclaimed Frank Morton, entering the room just as the savage made his exit. “Who is he, and wherefore in so great haste?”

“As to who he is,” answered Stanley, “I’ll tell you that after Moses has explained the cause of his sudden flight.”

“He say that him’s wife make dat skin, and de arrow on him skin show dat de Injuns take her to deir tents.”

“But did you not tell him that we found the skin long ago, and that the Indians must be far, far away by this time—nobody knows where?” demanded Frank.

“Yis, me tell him. But he go for to see de spot. T’ink him find more t’ings, p’raps.”

“Oh, messieurs, voilà!” shouted La Roche, pointing towards the river, as he rushed, breathless with haste, into the hall; “les Esquimaux, dem kill all de deer dans le kontry. Oui, voilà! dans les kayak. Two dozen at vonce—vraiment!” Without waiting a reply, the excited Frenchman turned round and rushed out of the house, followed by Stanley and Frank, who seized their guns, which always hung ready loaded on the walls of the apartment.

On reaching the water’s edge, the scene that met their eye was indeed sufficient to account for the excitement of La Roche. A herd of perhaps fifty or sixty deer, on their way to the coast, and ignorant of the foes who had so recently invaded their solitudes, had descended the ravine opposite the fort, with the intention of crossing the river. The Esquimaux had perceived this, and keeping themselves and their kayaks concealed until most of the animals were in the water, and the leaders of the herd more than two-thirds over, they then gave chase, and getting between the deer and the opposite shore, cut off their retreat, and drove them towards their encampment.

Here the slaughter commenced, and Stanley and Frank arrived at the scene of action while they were in the midst of the wholesale destruction. In all directions the kayaks, with their solitary occupants, were darting about hither and thither like arrows in the midst of the affrighted animals; none of which, however, were speared until they were driven quite close to the shore. In their terror, the deer endeavoured to escape by swimming in different directions; but the long double-bladed paddles of the Esquimaux sent the light kayaks after them like lightning, and a sharp prick on their flanks turned them in the right direction. There were so many deer, however, that a few succeeded in gaining the land; but here the guns of the traders awaited them. In the midst of this wild scene, Frank’s attention was arrested by the cool proceedings of an Esquimau, whose name was Chacooto. He had several times exhibited a degree of shrewdness beyond his fellows during his residence near the fort, and was evidently a man of importance in the tribe. Chacooto had collected together a band of the herd, amounting to fifteen, and, by dint of cool decision and quick movements, had driven them to within a few yards of the shore, exactly opposite the spot whereon his tent stood. One young buck, of about two years old, darted away from the rest more than once, but, with a sweep of the paddle and a prick of the lance, Chacooto turned it back again, while a quiet sarcastic smile played on his countenance. Having driven the herd close enough in for his purpose, the Esquimau ended the career of the refractory buck with a single thrust of his lance, and then proceeded coolly to stab them all one after another.

“Och, the spalpeen!” said a voice at Frank’s ear. “’Tis himsilf knows how to do it, an’ no mistake. Musha! his lance goes out and in like a thailor’s needle; an’ he niver strikes more nor wance, the haythen!”

“He certainly does know how to do it, Bryan,” replied Frank; “and it’s a comfort to know that every thrust kills in a moment. I like to see as little of the appearance of cruelty as possible in work of this kind.”

“Arrah! there’s wan that’ll chate ’im, anyhow,” cried Bryan, throwing forward his gun in nervous haste, as one of the deer gained the land, despite Chacooto’s rapidity, and bounded towards the hills.

Frank smiled at the eager haste of his companion, who was one of the poor shots of the party, and, consequently, always in a hurry. “Now, Bryan, there’s a chance. Take your time. Just behind the shoulder; a little low, for that gun kicks horribly.”

“Murder and blazes, she won’t go off!” cried the exasperated Irishman, as, after a wavering effort to take aim, he essayed unsuccessfully to pull the trigger.

“Half-cock, man! Cock it!” said Frank quickly.

“So ’tis, be the mortial! Och, Bryan, yer too cliver, ye are!” he exclaimed, rectifying his error with a force that nearly tore off the dog-head. At that instant there was a sharp crack, and the deer, bounding into the air, fell dead on the sand at the edge of the willows.

“Forgive me, Bryan,” said Massan, chuckling and reloading his piece as he walked up to his comrade. “I would not ha’ taken’t out o’ yer teeth, lad, if ye had been ready; but one bound more would ha’ put the beast beyond the reach o’ a bullet.”

“Faix, Massan, ye desarve to be hanged for murther. Shure I was waitin’ till the poor crayture got into the bushes, to give it a chance o’ its life, before I fired. That’s the way that gintlemen from the ould country does when we’re out sportin’. We always put up the birds first, and fire afterwards; but you salvages murther a poor brute on the sand, whin it’s only two fathoms from ye. Shame on ye, Massan.”

“See, Massan,” cried Frank, pointing to another deer, which, having escaped its pursuers, had gained the heights above. “That fellow is beyond us both, I fear. Be ready when it comes into view beyond the cliff there.”

But Massan did not move; and when Frank threw forward his gun, he felt his arm arrested.

“Pardon me, monsieur,” said Massan respectfully; “there’s a sure bullet about to start for that deer.”

As he spoke, he pointed to Dick Prince, who, ignorant of the fact that the deer had been seen by Frank, was watching its reappearance from behind a neighbouring rock, at some distance from where they stood. In a second it came into view—the bullet sped—and the deer bounded lightly into the bushes, evidently unhurt!

It is difficult to say whether Dick Prince or his comrades exhibited most amazement in their looks at this result. That the crack shot of the party—the man who could hit a button in the centre at a hundred yards, and cut the head off a partridge at a hundred and fifty—should miss a deer at ninety yards, was utterly incomprehensible.

“Is it yer own gun ye’ve got?” inquired Bryan, as the discomfited marksman walked up.

“No; it’s yours,” replied Prince.

A smile, which resolved itself into a myriad of wrinkles, flitted over the blacksmith’s face as he said—

“Ah, Prince! ye’ll requare long practice to come to the parfect use o’ that wipon. I’ve always fired three yards, at laste, to the left, iver since we fell over the hill togither. If it’s a very long shot, it requares four to take the baste in the flank, or four an’ a half if ye want to hit the shoulder, besides an allowance o’ two feet above its head, to make up for the twist I gave it the other day in the forge, in tryin’ to put it right!”

This explanation was satisfactory to all parties, especially so to Prince, who felt that his credit was saved; and if Prince had a weakness at all, it was upon this point.

The deer were now all killed, with the exception of those of the band that had been last in entering the river. These, with a few stragglers, had returned to the shore from which they started. The remainder of the evening was devoted to skinning and cutting up the carcasses—an operation requiring considerable time, skill, and labour.

While the people at the fort were thus employed, Maximus (who adopted at once the name given to him by Stanley) returned from his fruitless journey to the Indian camp, and assisted the men at their work. He made no allusion whatever to his visit to the deserted Indian camp; but, from the settled expression of