On the Edge of the Arctic; Or, An Aeroplane in Snowland

by H. L. Sayler

  CHAPTER VIII

  COUNT ZEPT MAKES HIMSELF KNOWN AT THE LANDING

  At the noon meal, Count Zept reported that Athabasca Landing wascertainly a live town. He explained that he had met the most importantman in town, the sergeant of the mounted police, and that he had beenintroduced to many of the influential merchants. He had examined thestore of the Revillon Freres and was somewhat disappointed in hisinability to secure a black fox skin which he had promised to send to hissister.

  The Revillon Freres being the well-known rival of the Hudson's BayCompany, young Zept in his disappointment had also gone to the Hudson'sBay store, but there he had been equally unsuccessful, although at bothplaces he saw plenty of baled skins. Colonel Howell laughed.

  "My dear boy," he explained, "furs do not go looking for buyers in thispart of the world. Inexperienced travelers seem to have the idea thatIndians stand around on the corners waiting to sell fox skins. Skins aregetting to be too rare for that now and, believe me, the fur companiesget their eye on them before the traveler can. And the companies pay allthey're worth."

  "Anyway," remarked the Count, "I can get a small eighteen-foot canoe fora hundred and twenty-five dollars. Don't you think I'd better buy one?The H. B. Company has some fine ones--the kind the mounted police use. Iwas looking for a bark one."

  Even the boys smiled at this and Colonel Howell laughed again.

  "Indians don't trouble to make bark canoes any more," he answered. "Thatis, when they can buy a good cedar boat. And next to his blanket, theIndian prizes his wooden boat above his family. But don't bother about acanoe. Moosetooth has one that we'll carry down the river with us andI've got a good one at the Fort. Don't buy _anything_. I'm buying enoughfor all of us."

  But the Count could not resist the temptation and later in the day, whenthe boys saw him, he and the sergeant of police were each wearing ahighly embroidered pair of mooseskin gauntlets that Paul had found in atrading store.

  Paul had been in the company of this new friend most of the day and itwas apparent that they had been to the big hotel more than once.

  After dinner, the unloading of the drilling machinery, the engine and theairship crates began. It was a task that Colonel Howell soon assigned tohis young assistants, who had under their direction a few paid laborersand many more volunteer laborers who were more curious than useful. WhenColonel Howell turned over this task to Norman and Roy, he returned tothe outfitting stores and devoted himself anew to the purchase ofsupplies.

  On the morning of the second day the loading of the boats began. Each ofthese was over thirty feet long and could hold an immense amount offreight. It was generally planned that all of the drilling machinery, theengine, and some lumber were to go in La Biche's boat, and that theprovisions and the airship were to be carried in Moosetooth's batteau. Inthe end of each boat there was a little deck the width of the narrowingend of the boat and about six feet long.

  While the boats were moving, the decks in the rear were devoted wholly tothe use of the steersmen, who required all the space as they occasionallyshifted the position of their giant sweeps. On the forward decks thepassengers must sleep and unless they disposed themselves on the cargo,find sitting room during the day. There was neither house nor tent forprotection. A charcoal brazier was provided, on which at times on thestern deck some cooking might be done. But in the main, unless the nightwas clear and good for running, the boats were to be tied up while supperand sleep were had on the shore.

  A part of the equipment of each boat was six heavy oars. These were foruse by the Indian crew when from time to time it was necessary to crossquickly over the broad river to escape rapids or other obstructions. Asthese things were revealed to the young aviators, they grew more and moreanxious for the hour of departure.

  When Colonel Howell's outfit began to reach the riverbank the nextmorning, Moosetooth and La Biche had part of their men on hand to assistin the loading. It was a motley group, moccasined in mooseskin with theirstraight black hair showing defiantly beneath their silver-belted blackhats. Mostly they wore collarless checked flannel shirts and always fromthe hip pocket of their worn and baggy trousers hung the gaudy tassels ofyarn tobacco pouches. Most of them were half-breeds, young men eager toshow the smartness of a veneer of civilized vices. But this did notbother Colonel Howell, for Moosetooth and La Biche were alone responsibleand these two men well enacted the roles of foremen. Sitting idly on thebank, cutting new pipes of tobacco or breaking twigs, with slow gutturalexclamations they directed the work to be done.

  The loading began and proceeded wholly without order. For this reason theprospector suggested that the airship crates be left until the last. Bagsof flour, of which there were fifty, were dumped in the bottom of theboat where the mud and water were sure to spoil part of the flour.

  "But that's the way they do it," explained Colonel Howell. "It's themethod of the river Indians. They're doing the work now and don't makesuggestions or try to help them. They'll resent it and think less of youfor it."

  While this work was going on, young Zept appeared from time to time andseemed to be interested but he as continually absented himself.

  Loading went forward slowly. Deliveries of stores were made several timesduring the day, but there was an entire lack of snap and the Indians tooktheir time in stowing things away. Colonel Howell was absent most of theday and in the middle of the afternoon the two boys took their firstopportunity to look over the town.

  Reaching the main street, they were not surprised to see the young Count,mounted on a lively looking pony, dash along the main thoroughfare. Itwas hard to tell whether the ease and surety with which young Zept rodeor his flapping Paris hat attracted more attention. As the boys wavedtheir hats to him and he gracefully saluted, they noticed that he musthave been riding for some time. The pony was covered with perspirationand its nostrils were dilated. As the rider passed an intersecting streetin the heart of the town, the little animal made a turn as if preferringanother route. The Count threw it on its haunches and headed it on downthe street at renewed speed.

  A little later, having visited the post office, Norman and Roy came outjust in time to see young Zept whirling his exhausted mount into a liverystable. When the boys reached this, they found the proprietor, who fromhis sign was a Frenchman, and Paul in a heated argument. It was invociferous French and in the course of it the boys saw young Zeptexcitedly tear a bill from a roll of money in his hand and hurl it on thefloor of the barn. The proprietor, hurling French epithets at hiscustomer, kicked the money aside.

  Norman pushed his way between the spectators and with assumed jocularitydemanded to know the cause of dispute. In broken English, the liverymanexclaimed:

  "He is no gentleman. He kills my horse. For that he shall pay two dollarsmore."

  "Well, what's the matter?" went on Norman laughing. "Isn't that enough?There's your money," and he picked up a Canadian ten-dollar bill andhanded it to the owner of the pony.

  "His money is nussing," retorted the pony owner. "He is no gentleman."

  The absurdity of this must have appealed to young Zept. Perhaps thepresence of his two companions somewhat shamed him.

  "Don't have a row," broke in Roy. "The colonel's sure to hear of it."

  The Count turned again to the excited Frenchman and began another torrentof apparent explanation, but it was in a different tone. He was now suaveand polite. As he talked he held out his hand to the proprietor of thestable and smiled.

  "He's been drinking again," whispered Roy to Norman, a fact which wasquite apparent to the latter.

  Then to the surprise of both boys, with Norman still holding the money inhis hand, the excited Frenchman grasped his customer's hand, and he andPaul hurried from the barn. A block away, the disturbed Norman and Roysaw the two men arm in arm disappear behind the swinging door of the bighotel bar room. Ascertaining the amount of their friend's bill from oneof the stable employees, Norman paid it and he and his companion left.

  That evening, Norman handed Paul fi
ve dollars he had received in changeand the incident was closed.

  For three more days the loading of the scows continued slowly. It finallybecame apparent that the little flotilla would set out Saturday evening.In these days Count Paul's manner of life was so different from that ofthe boys that they did not see a great deal of him. Now and then he wason the river front, but more frequently he was a patron of the liverystable, and even in the evening he was frequently not in the hotel whenNorman and Roy retired.

  His acquaintance with the mounted policeman put him much in that man'scompany. This officer, always in immaculate uniform, was very English inappearance, and he wore a striking tawny moustache. Being in charge ofthe local police station, as the sergeant, he was the highest policeauthority in that district. As the boys noticed him on the street attimes, gloved and swishing his light cane, they were surprised at theopen signs of his indulgence in drink. But what surprised them even more,knowing as they now did of the arrangement between Paul's father andColonel Howell, was the colonel's apparent indifference to young Zept'sconduct.

  "I have a theory," said Norman to his friend at one time. "You knowColonel Howell told us he wasn't taking Paul in hand to act as hisguardian. I think he's letting him go the pace until he gets him wherehe'll have to quit what he's doing. Then it's going to be up to Paulhimself. If he doesn't make a man of himself, it'll be his own fault."

  "I think a good call-down is what he needs," answered Roy, "and thecolonel ought to give it to him."

  "I reckon he thinks that isn't his business," commented Norman. "It'scertainly not ours. I reckon it'll work out all right."

  "Like as not this is Paul's idea of roughing it in the wilds," suggestedRoy.

  "Then there's hope," answered his chum. "He'll be out of the swing ofthis in a few days and when he learns what the real thing is, if he likesit and takes to it, he'll forget this kind of life."

  Finally the evening for the departure arrived. There was no fixed hour,but Colonel Howell's party had an early supper at the hotel and then agang of Indians carried their newly packed equipment to the boats. Allthese articles were dropped indiscriminately as the Indians feltdisposed, and soon after six o'clock Norman and Roy were ready for thelong voyage. Count Paul had turned his camera over to the young aviatorsand their first step was to make a number of snaps of the boats and theircrews.

  Then, piling their rifles and their new blankets in the bow ofMoosetooth's boat, the boys took station on the riverbank, prepared toembark at any moment.

  In keeping with the methods that they had found common, it was thendiscovered that parts of the provisions had not yet arrived. ColonelHowell and Paul had not accompanied the boys directly to the boats. Evenafter a wagon had arrived with the last of the provisions, and these hadbeen distributed by the Indians on the high heaped cargo, there was yetno sign of their patron. Nor was Count Zept anywhere to be seen.

  The Indian wives of the crew sat around their little tepee fires, butbetween them and their husbands passed no sign of emotion or farewell;this, in spite of the fact that no one on the boats might expect toreturn for several weeks.

  It began to grow cooler and finally the night fog began to fall over theswift brown river.

  As the sun began to grow less, the barren hills on the far side of theriver turned into a dark palisade. Finally Colonel Howell appeared. Hehad been engaged in settling his accounts and a merchant who came withhim spent some time in checking up goods already aboard the scow. Butwhen Colonel Howell learned that the Count was not present he strolledaway almost nonchalantly.

  "It's the way of the North," almost sighed Roy. "Nothing goes on schedulein this part of the world."

  "Why should it?" grunted Norman. "When your journey may mean a year'sdelay in getting back, what's a few minutes more or less in startingout?"

  It was far after nine o'clock and the sun was dropping behind thesouthern hills--the air chillier and the fog deeper, when Paul finallyappeared. His boisterous manner was all the testimony needed to indicatehow he had spent the evening.

  With him was his friend, the sergeant of police. He had undoubtedly beenwith his new comrade to celebrate the departure, but the dignifiedofficer, being now in the field of duty, gave few signs of personalindiscretions. For the first time he was formally presented to all and ina courteous and high-bred manner extended to the voyageurs his goodwishes for a safe voyage.

  Before the representative of the law, each Indian at once sprang to hisfeet and lifted his hat. And to each of these in turn the uniformedpoliceman answered in salute. When it seemed to Norman and Roy that therewould be no end to the long delay, Colonel Howell also reappeared. With anod of his head to all, he spoke quickly in the Cree language to hissteersmen.

  Old Moosetooth grunted a command and the men ran to the hawsers holdingthe scows against the current. Then Moosetooth and La Biche, without evena look at their unconcerned families sitting stolidly in the gloom on theriverbank, took their places in the stern of each boat. Each began, as heleaned on his oar, to cut himself a new pipe of tobacco and ColonelHowell turned to the policeman.

  "Sergeant," he remarked, "I think we are ready. Will you examine theoutfit?"

  The tall sergeant bowed slightly and with a graceful wave of his hand,stepped to the edge of one of the nearest scows. With a cursory glance atthe mixed cargo of boxes, barrels and bags--hardly to be made out in thetwilight--he turned and waved his hand again toward Colonel Howell. Then,quite casually, he faced the two steersmen.

  "Bon jour, gentlemen," he exclaimed and lifted his big white hat.

  Colonel Howell and his friends took the sergeant's hand in turn and thensprang aboard the boat. While the two steersmen lifted their own hats andgrunted with the only show of animation that had lit their faces, theceremony of inspection was over and the long voyage was officially begun.