by Quincy Allen
CHAPTER XVI.
AN ALARM IN THE CAMP.
The note extended a cordial invitation to the boys to dine at "TheRocks" on the following day, and Mr. Clarke offered to send his yachtto convey them to his island. The dinner was to be in the middle ofthe day, in accordance with the custom of the region, and as that factleft the afternoon practically free, all the party were eager toaccept. Perhaps it was not merely the expected pleasure of meeting Mr.and Mrs. Clarke, or of enjoying a trip in his yacht, which wasacknowledged to be one of the most beautiful and fleet on the entireriver, which moved them; but if other inducements, not referred to inthe note of invitation, did appear, no one mentioned them.
After supper, when Ethan prepared to depart from the camp, Tom said,"I think I'll wait a little while, pa. I'll come home in a couple ofhours."
"All right, son," responded Ethan. "I think ye'd better take one o'the canoes when ye start, and leave the skiff with the boys. It'll besafer like, ye see, if they take it into their heads to go out on theriver."
Ben made a wry face at the implied slight on their ability to use thecanoes, but no one spoke, and the boatman soon departed.
"I wanted you to hear me speak my piece again, if you would," saidTom, when his father had gone. "I know I don't do it very well, and asyou have had so much better advantages than I have, I'd like to haveyou help me, if you will."
Before any one could reply, Bert made a sudden dart from the camp-fireand was speedily followed by Jock. "What's the matter with thoseboys?" inquired Tom, innocently, as he glanced up at the departinglads.
"I don't think they feel very well," replied Bob, soberly.
"They don't? Do you want me to go over to the bay and get a doctor? Itwon't take an hour."
"No physician can reach the seat of their trouble," said Ben,solemnly. "It's deeper than any human skill can go."
"You don't mean it! Perhaps I'd better wait and not ask you to hear mespeak my piece to-night."
"Oh, that won't make any difference. Ben, here, is perfectly willingto hear you. In fact, he enjoys it; and while you are speaking, I'llgo and look up the other fellows, and see what I can do to help them."
Bob's evident desire to escape was all unnoticed by the unsuspectingTom, and as soon as he was left alone with Ben, he began to speak. Fora half-hour or more the camp resounded with, "Tew be or not tewbe-e-e," but no one returned to disturb the orator until the practicehad been ended.
Then, as the three lads came back, Tom said, "I'm sorry, boys, thatyou don't feel well. I told Bob I'd go over to the bay for a doctor,but he said you didn't want any."
"No physician in Alexandria Bay could prescribe for those boys whenthey get an attack of self-abasement. It's a serious matter."
"There's one thing about it," said Jock, "and that is, that Bob,here, isn't likely to catch it."
Tom, evidently, did not appreciate the point, but he neverthelessaccepted Jock's invitation to remain, and stretched himself on thegrass before the roaring camp-fire with the others.
"I was about to remark the other evening, when my irreverent friendinterrupted me," began Bob, "that Cartier came back here."
"Bob, are you going on with that yarn?" demanded Ben.
"No yarn about it. I'm going to help you fellows to see the point foronce in your lives."
"You mean you're going to try to make a point some one can see,"retorted Ben. "Well, wake me up when you come to the point. Life's tooshort to spend it in trying to understand Bob's stuff. If he evercomes to a point, let me know;" and Ben rolled over upon the grass,and covering his face with his hat, pretended to be sleeping.
"Go on with your Cartier," said Bert. "I don't know what we've done todeserve all this, but if we've got to have it, then the sooner it'sdone the better."
"Cartier," began Bob, giving the name a peculiar emphasis to exposeBert's ignorance, "made a great stir when he got back to St.Malo,--that was in September, 1534, as I said,--and the king wastickled most of all. He immediately promised to fit out a newexpedition, and a lot of the young nobles and swells wanted to join.Cartier was the rage, you see, and even the children cried for him;and as for the ladies, why, even brass buttons didn't count along withJakie's commission as 'captain and pilot of the king.'
"About the middle of the next May everything was ready, and Cartierand his men went up to the cathedral together, and special serviceswere held for them, and the bishop gave them his blessing. Havinglooked after that part of it, Cartier then took his men aboard hissquadron and set sail. He had three vessels this time, though I don'tjust recall the names of them."
"_La Grande Hermione_, _La Petite Hermione_, and _L'Emerillon_,"suggested Tom, who had been listening attentively.
"Thank you," replied Bob, somewhat confused, to the evident delight ofhis companions. "Those were the names. Well, they hadn't been out onthe ocean sailing very long before they were separated by the storms,but after a rough passage they finally came together in the straits ofBelle Isle."
"At the inlet of Blanc Sablon," suggested Tom.
A laugh greeted his words; but though Tom's face flushed, he soonperceived that he was not the cause of the merriment, and though hecould not understand Bob's momentary confusion, he, too, joined in thegood-natured laughter.
"On the last day of July they sailed to the westward and started upthe St. Lawrence. It was the first day of September when Cartier foundthe mouth of the Saguenay, and the fourteenth when he came to a littleriver about thirty miles from Quebec, which he named the Sainte Croix.The next day an Indian came to see him--"
"Hold on, Bob, isn't that enough?" inquired Bert, in apparent despair.
"The Indian was an Algonquin chief with a funny name--"
"Donnacona," suggested Tom, mildly.
Again a loud laugh greeted his word, and the abashed Tom subsided.
"That's right; that's what it was," said Bob, quickly. "Thank you,Tom. Well, Cartier had the two Indians with him whom he had taken toFrance, and so he could hold a powwow with this Algonquin, but Ihaven't time to tell you what they talked about."
"Oh, yes. Please tell us," pleaded Bert, in mock eagerness.
"No, I can't stop--"
"You're right. You can't tell, and you can't stop, either, till you'rerun down."
"As a result of the interview, Cartier left two of his vessels there,and, taking the _L'Emerillon_, he sailed up the river as far as LakeSt. Peter, but he found a bar there--"
"What?" exclaimed Bert, sitting suddenly erect.
"A bar. That's what I said."
"Was he looking for a bar all this time? Didn't they have any fartherdown the river? I'm ashamed of Carter. I didn't believe he was thatkind of a man."
"This was a sand bar," laughed Bob, "and blocked his way, so he leftthe ship's crew there--"
"The ship's screw?" interrupted Bert. "Now I know you're giving us afairy tale. Ships didn't have any screws then. They hadn't beeninvented. Even side-wheelers weren't known then."
"I didn't say ship's screw. I said ship's crew. Can't you understandplain English?"
"That's what I said, too, the ship's screw. Didn't I, fellows?"appealed Bert, turning to his companions.
"There's a big difference between a ship's screw and a ship's crew."
"Perhaps you can see it, but I can't. A ship's screw is a ship'sscrew, and that's all there is to it," protested Bert, solemnly.
"All right; have it your own way," said Bob. "Cartier left his behindhim, anyway, and with three of his men took a little boat and came onup the river, and on October 2d arrived at Montreal, which he calledMount Royal."
"What did he call it that for? Why didn't he call it what the peoplethere called it? I believe in calling things by their right names, Ido."
"It had an Indian name which I don't at this moment recall--"
"Ask Tom," suggested Bert.
"Hochelaga," said Tom, in response to the appeal.
"What did you say, Tom?" inquired Bert, soberly.
"Hochelaga," laughed T
om.
"Oh! Then that was the place where the bar you spoke of was, was it,Bob? Pardon me. Pray resume your fascinating disquisition, asimprobable as it is flighty. You were about to describe your Carterwhen he and his followers stopped on the bar, a course of action ofwhich I highly disapprove. That's one thing I like about this river,it's all wool and a yard wide. A safe place for children and notemptations to speak of--unless a canoe is one for Ben."
"A yard wide?" interrupted Tom. "The St. Lawrence a yard wide! Why,it's three-quarters of a mile wide up here at Cape Vincent, where itleaves the lake, and on the other side of Quebec it's ten and twentyand even thirty miles wide, and at Cape Gaspe it's all of a hundredmiles wide."
Again the boys broke into a hearty laugh, in which Tom was compelledto join, although he did not understand just what it was he waslaughing at; but the good nature of them all was so apparent that hedid not suspect that he was the cause of their enjoyment.
"Cartier stayed only three days at Montreal--" resumed Bob.
"Didn't he like the Hochelaga?" interrupted the irrepressible Bert.
"Keep still, Bert," pleaded Jock, laughingly. "I want to hear aboutthis."
"I would I were as this one is!" drawled Bert, pointing to Ben as hespoke, who was now soundly sleeping and apparently doing his utmost toemphasize the adverb as much as he did the verb.
"Cartier left after three days," began Bob once more, "and went backto the mouth of the Sainte Croix, and there he passed the winter. Anda terrible winter it was, too. The men weren't used to such awfulcold, and they suffered from the scurvy so much that when the springcame twenty-five of them were dead, and only a very few of the hundredand ten who were alive were free from disease. His men had been soreduced in numbers that Cartier decided to take only two of hisvessels back to France with him and so left the _Petite Hermione_there."
"That's a likely story," said Bert. "Left the ship behind him?"
"Yes, that's what he did."
"It may be so, my friend, but I don't believe it."
"It is true," said Tom. "They found the old boat in the mud there in1848,--the very ship that Cartier left more than three hundred yearsbefore."
"Oh, of course, if _you_ say so I'll believe it," replied Bert.
"He first took possession of the land," said Bob, "by setting up across bearing the arms of France and a Latin inscription, _Franciscusprimus, Dei gratia Francorum rex, regnat_."
"I've read about that inscription, but I don't know how to readLatin," said Tom, eagerly. "What does it mean?"
"Ask Bert," suggested Bob.
"Jock'll tell you," said Bert, quickly.
"Bob knows it, and he'll tell you," protested Jock, hastily.
"Cartier stole Donnacona and nine other Indian chiefs and sailed awayfor France, where he arrived about the middle of July, 1536. Andthat's the end of chapter two," Bob added, as he rose from his seat.
Tom now departed for home, and as the boys began to prepare for thenight, Bob stopped for a moment before the prostrate figure of Ben,who was still sleeping soundly on the ground before the camp-fire.
"I was never treated thusly in all my experience as a lecturer," saidBob. "I'll fix that fellow. I'll show him he mustn't spoil my speecheswith his hilarious snorings."
Running into the tent Bob speedily returned with several short piecesof rope, in each of which he made a slip noose. Then he carefullyadjusted one to the sleeping lad's right hand, and without disturbinghim, made the rope fast to the nearest tree. In a similar manner hetreated the other hand and then the two feet, and last of all the headof the still unconscious Ben.
"Now, I'd like to wake him up," said Bob, regarding his work with muchsatisfaction. "He won't go to sleep again when I'm lecturing, I fancy.If he moves his right hand he'll make himself all the more secure, andif he tries to stir his other hand or his feet he'll be still worseoff. Next time he'll see the point, I'm thinking."
The boys were soon ready for bed and still Ben slept on. The camp-fireflickered and burned low, the long shadows ceased, and even thewaiting boys at last closed their eyes and slept.
How long they had been sleeping they did not know, but they weresuddenly awakened by a yell that startled them all. Quickly sittingup, the boys at first could not determine what it was that had soalarmed them.
In a moment, however, the yell was repeated, louder and longer thanbefore.
"It's Ben," said Bob, quickly. "I'll go out and ascertain whether hecan see the point."
As he turned to rush into the open air, he was startled by the soundswhich came from the roof of the tent in which they had been sleeping.Something was moving about on it, and to the alarm of the boys itsounded very much like the snarl of a wild beast. Evidently it wassomething large, too, and in a moment all three darted forth from thetent into the darkness, just as there came another yell from theprostrate Ben, even more piercing than those which had preceded it.
