Christmas gold, p.442
Christmas Gold, page 442
Next, taking from his pocket a cord made by twisting two horse-hairs together, he slipped one end through a loop in the other, thus making a noose, and tied it to the top of the hickory splint. This done, he bent down the splint until he hooked its tip under the nearest end, or head, of the board, which was raised a couple of inches from the ground. Spreading the noose carefully out upon the board, he sprinkled within a particularly nice lot of crumbs, then laid a little train away from the foot of the board as a leader, and the snare was ready. The weight of the bird treading upon the board to get the bait would press it down enough to let the lightly caught whip end of the splint spring up: this would pull the noose with a sudden movement, and the bird would find itself dangling in the air by the legs or a wing, or possibly by the neck.
Removing their captive, and resetting the square trap, the whole party went out of sight to await further results. Yesterday they had captured thirteen birds in all, and had eaten only nine. With three more traps, they ought to do better to-day, and so accumulate a little stock ahead.
"At any rate," Katy observed, "we've plenty of refrigerator room to keep them in."
They had, indeed—a refrigerator about a hundred miles square!
Chapter XVII.
The Breaking Up of the Ice
Table of Contents
Breakfast was late the next morning, for Katy proposed to vary their fare by frying some snow-birds with bacon, and Jim was called upon to help pluck and prepare them—work which did not please that young gentleman very much.
"I suppose now we shall have nothing but snow-birds, snow-birds," he growled.
"Do try and be a little more cheerful, Jim," said Katy. "You are always grumbling about something."
"What else do you want?" asked Tug. "You have got beef, though it's dried, and bacon and poultry."
"Flesh, fowl, and good red herring," quoted Aleck, from an old proverb.
"All but the herring," grunted The Youngster, crossly. "Now if only we had some fish—"
"Fish!" Tug shouted, leaping to his feet. "Never thought of it, as I'm a Dutchman! Why shouldn't we? We have only got to cut a hole in the ice, and 'drop 'em a line,' as the man told his wife to do when he went off to Californy."
"Strange we never thought of that," said Katy.
"Strange? I'm the biggest dolt in three counties. Why, I'll catch you some be-'utiful muskallonge for dinner. Come on, Captain. Let's cut a hole while the boy is cleaning those twopenny tomtits."
"Hold on!" cried the disgusted Jim; "I'm coming too."
"No, no, my dear child" (Tug's voice was that of a pitying mother). "Remember Captain's order. You're to be a nice boy, and help in the kitchen. Maybe we'll let you cut the heads off our fishes, if you do well with the birds. Ca-a-reful!" and the tormentor dodged a club hurled by the angry lad, who wished (and said so) that he was only a little bigger.
Jim and Katy both felt it was hard indeed that he should be deprived of this particular fun, in which he took so much interest, and it seemed as though the big fellows might have waited. The cook would willingly have let her scullion depart, but an order was an order, and he had to stay, plucking savagely at the pretty feathers of the innocent buntings, and declining to come back to good-humor, until the lads returned with the report that they had cut two holes in the thin ice that formed over the "lead," which, the reader will remember, was crossed just a few rods back, and now were ready to set their lines.
Here was a chance of revenge. Jim's own line was the most important one in their small stock. He was tempted to refuse to let them use it; but he was not a bad fellow, and a better heart prevailed.
"You'll find my line and pickerel spoon in that little box of things in our chest," he said.
Tug walked up to him and offered his hand.
"Jeems, I'll accept your apology for throwing sticks of wood at your uncle, and call it square. Agreed?"
"Yes!" said Jim, with a laugh, and peace was restored.
Doubtless you expect an entertaining chapter out of the fishing, but it can't be given if we are to stick to the facts of this cruise. No: the big muskallonge they hoped to catch was somewhere under the ice, but whether it was because he didn't see their bait, or was not tempted, or knew better than to bite, certain is it that none of these giants of winter fishing were caught. With the toothsome pickerel they had better luck, and several were taken on this first and on following days, so that Jim did not lose all the fun by his unlucky engagement in the kitchen. The greatest adventures of the trip were not so much in fishing and hunting as in being fished and hunted after; and these were to begin without much delay.
The day the log was found and the first snow-birds were captured it had turned cold again, and it remained so for a whole week; but our heroes were kept busy in watching the traps, which caught them more snow-birds than they could eat; in attending to the fishing; and in getting wood. The snow did not melt at all, for the weather was very cold indeed, and sometimes the wind blew frightfully, but always in such a way that the hummock sheltered the tenthouse pretty well, so that, with the help of a big fire, they could keep warm enough. For amusement, they marked out a checker-board, and played checkers and other games. They tried their hands—or, rather, their heads—at spinning yarns also; they examined each other in geography or grammar, and held spelling competitions, choosing words out of Dr. Dasent's book, which they came to learn almost by heart. At all these studious entertainments Katy was likely to be ahead. But when the subject was turned to arithmetic, Aleck became teacher, for that was his favorite study.
Thus the week had passed, and its close completed the fifteenth day since they had left home, which seemed very far away now. They had no anxiety so long as the weather held cold; or, if any one felt worried, he did not talk about it.
At the end of this week, however, the wind changed in the night to the southward, so that on the eighth morning of their stay in the igloo they found the air almost as balmy as spring, with a gentle breeze from the south. The sun was shining, also, and no birds came near the house all day. This was compensated for, however, by their taking the largest pickerel yet. Towards noon it clouded up, and began to rain, melting the snow with such rapidity that the whole region was covered with slush. The shapeless tent-roof let streams of water pour in at the sides, and, altogether, affairs were very disagreeable.
No one felt disposed to grumble, however, since, when the snow had been washed away, or cold weather came again to freeze solid the slush and surface-water, they could go ahead on their journey—something all were extremely anxious to do.
The wind continued to blow from the south all night, and when Aleck went out next morning he hurried back with an alarmed face to report that distant open water could be seen in that direction.
"The snow has almost gone. I must take a scout after breakfast, and see what the prospect is."
As soon as the coffee and fried pickerel had been disposed of, therefore, Aleck set out, taking Jim with him.
When two hours had passed, and the scouts did not return, Tug and Katy became alarmed, and went to the crest of the ridge. It had grown so foggy, however, that nothing could be seen.
"Hadn't we better make a big smoke," Katy suggested, "as a signal? The fog might lift for a minute, and give them a chance to catch sight of it. They must be lost."
"It's a good idea, as are most of your notions, Katy. I'll get some of that wet root-wood, and make a fire on top of the hummock."
It was done, and another hour passed. Chilly with the fog and the raw wind, they had gone down into the hut to get warm, and were just attending to the "kitchen" fire, when their ears were startled by a loud, sharp noise, like the report of a distant cannon, only much sharper; then another, still louder; then a third, somewhat nearer; and, after a minute's interval, a fourth tremendous crash, close by the house, which trembled under their feet and over their heads as though an earthquake had shaken it.
"The ice is cracking!" Tug cried, seizing Katy's hand, and dragging her to the boat, into which both jumped in terror.
An instant later Tug recovered himself. "This is no use," he said. "Our ice is firm just here, and I don't hear her bursting any more. Let's go outside."
"Don't you think we'd better put some of the food-boxes and things into the boat, so that they won't be lost if the ice here should break to pieces suddenly?"
"Yes, we might do that. Let's hurry."
Five minutes was enough for this work, and then both went out and climbed upon the hummock. They found the whole appearance of things changed towards the south and east. Where, yesterday, had lain one broad white field of solid ice, as far as the eye could reach, now were spread before them (for the fog had lifted a little, so that they could see better) the long, slow waves of a lake of blue water, filled with cakes and wide sheets of floating ice.
"Oh! oh!" Katy cried, wringing her little hands at the thought, "Aleck and Jim are drowned."
"No, I guess not," said Tug, encouragingly. "They are probably safe on some of those big pieces of ice."
"But how will they ever get back?"
"I don't know," her companion answered, slowly. "If only this terrible fog would go away, so that we could see something, perhaps we might help them. I don't know what we can do now but to keep up our smoke."
"I wonder if we are afloat?" Katy asked, trying to steady her voice, for she saw how useless it was to weep when so much might be required of her any minute. "Ah, Rex, good dog, what shall we do now? Can't you find your master?"
Chapter XVIII.
Rescuing the Wanderers
Table of Contents
Rex wagged his tail mournfully, and looked at the strange scene, whining as if he understood it all, but was at his wits' end how to act.
"Afloat?" Tug repeated, after a minute. "There are cracks on each side of us, and a narrow one part way behind, between us and that high hummock over there to the southward, which, in my opinion, hides the low, flat land, for I think it is only four or five miles to the shore. But it might as well have been four or five hundred while that snow lasted. Let's watch, and see if the crack gets wider."
"Do you feel quite sure, Tug, that Aleck and Jim are on one of those big cakes of ice?" The tone of Katy's voice was very anxious.
"Yes, I do, Katy. They certainly have not jumped off and drowned themselves on purpose."
This made Katy smile, in spite of her anxiety.
"They surely are not very far off; but, the most alarming part of the business is, how they are to get to us if that big crack increases to the size of a river. Can you make up your mind whether it is really growing wider?"
In the course of half an hour it became very plain that the crack was getting wider rapidly, and their icy foundation, which they had thought so fixed, had now become a big raft, slowly drifting down the lake under the pushing of the steady west wind—moving a little faster than its companion rafts in the wide waste, because its high hummock served as a sort of sail. All the cakes our watchers could see were much smaller than this one. Occasionally these pieces would crash together, and crumble, or one would slide under the other. Sometimes their own "floe," as Dr. Kane would have called so large a piece, collided with others, but always came off victorious. They came to the conclusion that its having the thick hummock, like a great, solid back-bone, rendered it far stronger than the rest, as well as a better sailer.
Beside them another floe, also bearing a hummock (a section of their own), was pressing its way on, to the ruin of smaller ones. It was separated from their floe by an open canal, perhaps five hundred yards wide, and floated along about even with them, sometimes swinging nearer, sometimes receding. This great cake, an acre or more in extent, lay in the direction whither the absent ones had gone, and it was hoped that they were upon it. This would be the next best thing to having them safely back, but the chance was a small one, at best.
Talking over these loopholes of escape, Katy and Tug tried to forget their discomforts and dangers, and to show each other cheerful and reliant faces. Nevertheless it was dreary work.
The weary day wore on—the day they thought would perhaps be their last—until night, with its starless gloom, was surrounding the desolate picture of grinding ice and of black, rolling waves, dimly seen. Chilled to the bone, for neither could bear to stay within the hut, they had grown silent and almost despairing, when Rex suddenly started to his feet, and, pricking up his ears, looked intently towards the great floe beside them, which had now approached much nearer. Then, after listening a moment, he uttered a loud bark, and bounded off. The two castaways followed to the edge of the ice, and there, having silenced Rex, could presently hear a faint halloo—her brother's voice!
"Halloo! halloo-o!" they shrieked back.
"Let us get the boat, and go after them!" cried Katy, nearly wild with joy and excitement.
"Can't do it," said Tug, in a discouraged tone. "All four of us couldn't budge that boat and sledge before morning. It is frozen in, and has got to be chopped out and dried up. Must do something besides get the boat."
"That floe is nearer than it has been before, Tug. Maybe it'll come quite close."
"Yes, mebbe it will. I 'low that's our only hope. We can do nothing, Katy, but watch, and—and pray, Katy. Let us go back to the fire. It is cold here, and we can do no good. Once in a while I'll come down and scream across to cheer 'em up."
Reluctantly, therefore, they returned to the igloo, warmed their feet, and picked up something to eat, but did not go to bed. Tug and Rex would frequently run out and shout across to Aleck, reporting at each return that the water-space (as well as could be guessed in the darkness) seemed to be surely narrowing. Towards morning Katy was persuaded to lie down, consenting to do so only when promised that she should be roused as soon as daylight appeared. Tug himself fell asleep, but both awoke with the first light of dawn, and hastened together to the edge of the floe, where the water lay calm and smooth, gray as iron and cold as death, between the divided friends.
"Oh, I can see them!" cried the girl, and sent a cheery call across the "lead," which had now narrowed to a few rods. "Poor little Jim! See how he has to lean against Aleck."
"We're safe," came back the shout, "but almost worn-out. Can you move the boat?"
"No."
"Then unroll the ball of twine, and tie one end of it to the clothes-line, and to the other end of the clothes-line knot all the drag-ropes put together. Then fasten the loose end of the twine to Rex's collar, and make the dog bring it to me. Understand?"
"Yes."
But Tug didn't quite understand. He was off too soon, in his haste to get the twine and clothes-line and ropes. Aleck hadn't finished his directions.
"Tell Tug," he shouted again to Katy, "to bring the sled, and fasten that to the drag-ropes. When I have hauled the ropes across, and got hold of the sled, I'll send Rex back, and you can pull in the twine, and catch the ropes, and tow us across. Hurry up, if you want us alive! This ice may drift apart again."
In five minutes Tug came running back, with all his preparations made. Now everything depended upon Rex. The twine was slipped through his collar, and securely knotted, Katy kneeling the while with her arms about his shaggy head, whispering to him what he was to do. Then, in a stern voice, Tug commanded:
"Go, Rex—go to Aleck!" at the same time pushing him into the water, while the Captain coaxed from the other side, and even Jim roused himself at this joyful prospect of deliverance.
At first the dog, brave as he was, turned back, whining pitifully at the freezing water. But they fought him away, and finally poor Rex struck out and swam across to where Aleck was anxiously waiting to lift him out. Taking hold of the twine the dog had brought, the Captain reeled it in as rapidly as his stiffened fingers would let him, until the clothes-line began to come, and after it the heavier drag-ropes.
But both clothes-line and drag-ropes together proved too short to reach quite across, and the floes seemed to have stopped their approach to each other, so that waiting would be useless, if not dangerous.
"There is about ten feet lacking," Aleck shouted. "You must find some more rope."
"Can't do it, unless I cut it off the mainsail."
"Cut it off, then, and make haste."
Tug went off on a run, and another five minutes passed by before he got back. Already the canal had begun to widen, so that fifteen feet instead of ten would be required.
Tossing the rope into the sled-box, Tug screamed, "All right!" and the captain began drawing the sled to his side as quickly as possible, so that the two parties were again disconnected, and wholly reliant upon the nervous and frightened dog, which Jim was holding firmly, and coaxing into quiet. Swiftly splicing the rope with the new piece, the dog was let go. This time he leaped eagerly into the water for his return trip, apparently feeling perfectly the responsibility laid upon him, though perhaps he was only frightened, and eager to get back to what seemed home.
"REX STRUCK OUT AND SWAM ACROSS."
Positions were now reversed. Aleck and Jim had the sled—Tug and Katy the twine. Drawing this in, all waited with feverish anxiety to see if there would be length of rope enough. There was; but so rapidly had the floes drifted apart that Tug held the very end of the taut line in his outstretched hand, and had not a bit to spare. One minute more, and the lines would not have reached across.
Then they saw Aleck snatch off his overcoat, his undercoat, and his boots, and put them into the box of the sled, which was floating unsteadily at the margin of the ice. They saw him half lift the exhausted Jim, helping him to get into the box, and then heard him call out in quick words:
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