They had nearly all the bedding, cooking utensils, and tools with which they had started three weeks before; but the oil for their lantern and their matches were nearly used up or lost; their powder was low, for part of it had been spoiled by water; their clothes were badly worn; and their only canvas, since the loss of their tent, was the small "spare piece."
"It's plain," said Aleck, as this overhauling was finished, "that we must put ourselves upon a regular allowance. The provisions won't last us a week unless we save them carefully."
"And it's plain that we must raise some more, so I reckon I'd better get to work at bird-traps."
"Yes, the sooner the better. As for me, I want to learn all I can about the island. There may be something of use to us at the other end, so I shall take a long walk, and see what I can find."
"Mayn't I go with you?" Jim asked, eagerly.
"Yes, Youngster, if you think you can stand it."
"No trouble about that," replied the little fellow, courageously. He had grown very manly during the past month.
The brothers started off, taking the gun with them, and saying that they would be back about three o'clock.
As soon as they had gone Tug set about his traps in one corner of the house, behind the stove, while Katy went to work to make the hut a little more homelike.
The cabin was about twelve feet square, and one side was the smooth face of a great rock, against which was heaped the rude chimney of mud and stones. In front of this the stove was placed, and behind it, on the side of the room farthest from the door, the fishermen had built a bunk.
"You must call that your bedroom," Tug said, and he helped Katy to set up in front of it poles sustaining a curtain made of a shawl.
"Now," said the lad, when this had been arranged, "you must have a mattress."
So, taking the axe, he went out, and soon came back with a great armful of hemlock boughs, and then a second one, with which he heaped the bunk, laying them all very smoothly, and making a delightful bed.
"I'm thinkin' we'll have to fix some more bunks for ourselves," said the boy, as he tried this springy couch. "That's a heap better 'n the soft side of a plank."
Then with a hemlock broom Katy swept the floor, and spread down the canvas as a carpet. Finding in her little trunk some clothing wrapped in an old Harper's Weekly, she cut out the pictures and tacked them up, and finally she washed the grimy window to let more light in, so that the rough little house soon came to look quite warm and cosey.
Meanwhile Tug, getting out his few tools, had made the triggers of half a dozen such box-traps as they had caught snow-birds with when living on the ice, and one other queer little arrangement, of sticks delicately balanced, an upright one in the middle bearing at its top a bit of red rag:
"What in the world is that?" Katy inquired with much curiosity.
"Oh, it's a bit of a contrivance to stand over a hole in the ice where I propose to place a 'set' line for fish—that is, you know, a line that I bait and leave set for a while, trusting to luck to catch something. The minute a fish gets the hook through his lips and begins to flop around, he will set this flag a-fluttering and so let me know it. I might make him ring a little bell if I had one."
"I should say," Katy remarked laughingly, "that to make a captured and dying fish ring his own funeral knell was adding insult to injury."
At length Tug pulled on his overcoat and announced that he was going to look for a good fishing-place.
He was gone nearly an hour, during which Katy busied herself in mending her sadly torn dress, and in thinking. But the latter was by no means a pleasant occupation, and she was glad to see Tug come back, rubbing his ears, for the day was a cold one.
"I think I have found a real likely place for fishing," he told her. "There is a little cove the other side of this thicket, with a marsh around it, and a pretty narrow entrance. I reckon the water's deep enough in there for fish to be skulking, and I dropped my line right in the middle. I set the traps near here, but didn't see any birds."
"Do you think—" Katy stopped suddenly, laying one hand on Tug's arm, and holding up the other warningly, while her face grew pale. Rex, who had been lying by the stove quietly licking his injured paw, rose up and growled deeply.
"There! Did you not hear it?"
"I did. It's them pesky dogs," cried Tug, and hurried to the window, while Rex began to bark furiously. "There are the boys on the hill backing down, and two—no, three—dogs following them. Where's that axe? I'll fix 'em!"
And before Katy could quite understand what was the matter, the boy had burst out, and was tearing up the hill to the support of his friends. Rex wanted to go too, but Katy held him fast, as she stood watching the boys flourishing their weapons, and frightening the dogs back, while they slowly retreated. As they came nearer to the house the animals ceased pursuing, and relieved their disappointment by savage barks and prolonged howls.
"Well," exclaimed Tug, in the country speech he always used when excited, "I allow them curs are the most or'nary critters I ever see!"
"They followed us all the way from the other side of the neck," said Jim, dropping limp into a broken-legged chair, which tumbled him over backward.
"Where did you go, and what did you see?" was Katy's anxious question, choking down her laughter at the plaintive Youngster's accident.
Aleck then told them that from the highest point of the hill he could study the whole island, which was everywhere surrounded by ice, and that eastward he could see what he thought was another island several miles away; but that to the southward it was too misty for a long sight. Going on down the hill, they crossed a neck or isthmus of sand and rocks between two marshy bays, and entered some woods, which seemed to cover pretty much all the rest of the island. Pushing through this, and gathering a good many dried grapes, which were worth a hungry man's attention if he had plenty of time, they reached the shore somewhere near the farther end of the island without finding any signs that anybody had ever been there before. On the shore, however, by a cove, they found a tumbled-down shanty, and a little clearing where once had been a camp. They were going on still farther, when suddenly they were attacked by the three dogs, and thought it best to retreat. The dogs followed, and they had to fight them off all the way.
"One of them was a giant of a mastiff," said Aleck, "and we were more afraid of him than of the smaller ones, which seemed to be two well-grown pups. I think these dogs must have been left here last summer by somebody. There seems to be four of them altogether—two old ones and two young ones—though we have never seen more than three at once. How they have managed to live beats me. I don't see anything for them to eat. I wish you had some bullets, Tug. We never can hurt 'em much with small shot."
ATTACKED BY THE DOGS.
"They'll steal everything from the traps, too," Jim piped in. "By the way, Tug, have you set any yet?"
Then Tug told what he had been doing, and said he must go before it became dark and see if anything had been taken. So, wrapping himself up, he took the gun and went off, while Aleck and Jim gathered a supply of wood for the night, and Katy began to get supper. By the time this was ready, and the red glare of a threatening sunset had tinged the snow and suffused the clouds with crimson, Tug came back, bringing nothing at all. It was not a very merry party, therefore, that sat around the table that evening listening to the doleful cries of the outcast dogs, which still kept watch on the hillside.
* * *
Chapter XXV.
THE PERILS OF A MIDNIGHT SEARCH.
The next morning snow was falling, and the wind was blowing furiously.
"This ought to bring us some small birds, and maybe an owl or two," said Tug, as he watched the dense clouds of snow hurled along from the northern waste of ice.
"Do you think you would dare to go out to the traps, or could find them in this gale?" Aleck asked.
"I reckon so; and while I'm gone you take the gun and see if you can't find snow-birds among the hemlocks."
&
nbsp; "What'll you do if those dogs get after you? They're perfectly savage with hunger. It don't take much wildness or long famine to turn a dog back to a wolf, and we've got to look out for these curs as if they were wild beasts."
"You're right," Tug assented. "But I hardly think they'll be out on the ice in this storm; you are more likely to meet them in the woods. At any rate, we must have something to eat, and it's my business to tend those traps, wolves or no wolves. If I go under, why, there's one less mouth to feed."
So Tug and Aleck went away into the storm, one out upon the wide white desert, the other wading up the drifted slopes to the woods.
Katy and Jim stayed at home, sitting comfortably in the house. She was reading aloud from an old newspaper they had found lying in a corner, when there came plainly to her ears the twittering of small birds.
"Listen, Jimkin. Did you hear that?"
"Snow-birds!" the boy exclaimed. "Right on the roof, too, and nary a trap!"
"Let us go out," said Katy, eagerly. "Perhaps we could catch one or two somehow."
So they crept out, and saw that the thick hemlock growing beside the big rock was covered with small birds. Some were hiding away from the "cauld blast" in the nooks between the dense branches; some were hanging upon the little cones, swinging and clinging like acrobats; some were taking short flights through the smoke to warm their toes, or sitting on the bare rock near the top of the chimney. They were of two kinds, but all equally happy and unconcerned.
"If I only had the gun I could knock over about twenty at once," Jim whispered. "I believe I could even kill a lot with my pea-shooter."
"Could you? Well, Jimkin, I've got some strong rubber cord in my trunk, and you might make one of those horrid forked-stick things."
"That's a splendid idea, Katy. Get your rubber, and I'll cut a stick. Hurry up!"
Ten minutes afterwards the weapon was ready. But now it occurred to Jim that he had no "peas" for his "shooter." So he and Katy both hurried down to where they knew there was a bit of beach not covered by ice. They scraped away the new snow, and raked up double handfuls of small pebbles.
Jim's hands grew so cold during this operation that he had to go in and warm them before he could handle his "rubber gun." But the birds still stayed in the trees, as is their custom when a heavy snow-storm is raging, and the excited young hunter waited only long enough to get the stiffest of his fingers into decent shape.
Creeping around to the rear side of the rock, he climbed slowly up until he could peer over the edge, and found himself not more than a dozen feet away from the little feathered group sitting by the chimney-top. Taking the best of aim, and pulling the rubber as far back as it would go, he let fly, and one of the largest of the birds tumbled over the edge. The boy had hard work to refrain from shouting with pride at this early success, though he wasn't sure he had killed the bird.
* * *
Chapter XXVI.
FINDING SNOW-BIRDS AND LOSING THE CAPTAIN.
Jim knew he must keep quiet, so he stood like a statue, trying to forget his stinging ears, until the flock had recovered from its surprise, when he knocked over a second bird.
It was slow and very cold work, but the boy stuck to it bravely until his fingers became so stiff that he could not manage his little weapon, and then he crept down to the stove, to dance about and wring his hands with pain as the heat of the room set them aching.
As soon as possible he went out again—missed twice and hit once. Just as he was taking aim a fourth time his foot slipped, and he tumbled backwards, followed by a small avalanche, which half buried him at the foot of the rock. When he picked himself up, every feather had disappeared.
Running round to the front, he found two dead birds and three wounded ones, whose necks were speedily wrung. Never was a boy prouder than this young sportsman, as he laid his trophies in a row and admired them.
"What a delicious broth they will make!" cried Katy, who longed to taste something really good.
"I'm hungry enough to eat 'em raw, like an Indian. Oh, Tug, look what I've shot!" Jim added, as his friend opened the door and stood shaking off the snow.
"Good for you! I've got nothin' 'cept a mighty good appetite. Why, they're cross-bills and red-polls!"
"What are they?"
"Birds that come down in winter from away up north. This little streaked sparrow-like fellow, with the rosy breast and the red cap, is the red-poll; they say he never breeds south of Greenland. Now look at these larger ones—see how strong the bills are, and how their points cross! That's so they can twist the hard scales off the cones and get at the seeds."
"Yes," said Jim; "they were hanging upside down and every way on the cones, and I could hardly see them to take aim."
"That's 'cause their plumage is such a vague sort of red and green, so near the color of the leaves and scales on those evergreen trees. The hawks and owls can't see 'em, either, half as well as if they were bright, and that's where the little fellows have the advantage of their big enemies. Did you notice any other kinds?"
"There was one different one, a little larger than any of these, that I caught a glimpse of—it was green, just like the hemlock leaves, and kept inside out of the storm—"
"Like a sensible bird, eh? Correct! I guess he was a pine grosbeak."
"That means 'pine bigbeak' doesn't it? It ought to, for this fellow had a beak twice as thick as any bird I ever saw, except a cardinal from South Carolina that a man had in a cage last summer. Do you think they'll come back?"
"I reckon so. None of these winter birds are shy—lucky for us! and I think the shelter of these trees and the warmth of our smoke will fetch 'em, especially if we scatter some crumbs out on the roof."
"But we have none to scatter," Katy protested.
All three then went to work picking the birds, whose bodies looked surprisingly small after their puffy coats had been taken off. "See what a warm undershirt of down this one wears at the roots of his feathers!" Tug pointed out, holding up a red-poll.
"Wish I were a bird," said Jimmy; "I'd get out o' this in no time."
"Perhaps if you were, this would be the very place you would most want to come to and stay in," Katy remarked, "just as these poor little things did. The 'if' makes a lot of difference, Master Jim."
By this time it began to grow dusk, and though the snow was falling as fast as ever, the air had grown much warmer, as though the storm would end in rain. Aleck had not come yet, and the three, in their snug house, looking out upon the deep drifts and the clouded air, and listening to the melancholy sound of the wind in the trees, became more and more anxious for his appearance.
When it had grown quite dark, and the broth Katy had made was ready, together with cakes of corn-meal, and tea, or, rather, hot water flavored with tea and sugar—the best meal they had seen for many a day—Tug said that if the Captain did not come before they got through eating he would go and look for him. So they tried to keep up each other's spirits; but when the meal was done, and still no brother appeared, all their merriment faded.
"Jim and Rex ought both to go with you, Tug; and you must take along the lantern, and these extra corn cakes I have baked, and some bacon—"
"The bacon's raw," Jim protested.
"Well, stupid, you could fry it over some coals on the end of a stick, couldn't you?" exclaimed Tug, impatiently. He was getting very tired of Jim's constant objections.
"And you must take this little bit of brandy, because you know, he might—might be—"
"Now, Katy, dear Katy," said Tug, his own eyes moist, as he threw his arm around the shoulders of the girl, who had broken down at last, and was crying bitterly. "Don't cry, Katy. If you give in, what are we goin' to do? You are the life of the party, and there ain't nothin' we wouldn't any of us—and specially me—do for you. Really now, Katy—Here, you young cub, what are you bellerin' about? If I catch you crying round here again, discouragin' your sister in this style, I'll thrash you well!"
"DON'T CRY, KATY!"
Tug was thoroughly excited and distressed by this last and heaviest trouble, and most anxious of all to make the rest believe he wasn't anxious. As usual, when excited, he dropped into the slang he had been striving to forget. But this added force to his speeches, for when it occurred everybody understood that he was very much in earnest.
"I knew a young fellow," Tug himself used to say, when laughed at for this peculiarity, "whose father was a Dutchman, but who could never be persuaded to learn that language. 'Why not?' we used to ask him. 'Well, fellows,' he would say, 'my daddy talks English till he catches me up to some mischief; then he begins to talk Dutch, and goes for his whip; so I've got a terrible distaste for Dutch.' It's with me as it was with that man. When I am mad, or mean business, I'm pretty likely to talk in the 'Dutch' I learned when I was a boy."
The two boys and the dog—for Rex had nursed his foot until it was of use to him again, protected by bandages—bundled themselves up, took the lantern, the hatchet, and luncheon, and started out. Katy said she should not be a bit afraid, and would keep up a good fire. As they disappeared, letting in a flurry of snow before they could shut the door, she dropped into a seat (if truth must be told) to finish her crying. Let her do it, poor girl!—few of her associates, or yours, my pretty maiden, ever had better cause. We will flounder along with Tug and Jim, who are bowing their faces to the storm, and toiling up the dark and treacherous hillside.
When the top of the ridge had been gained they paused to get breath and to shout Aleck's name. No reply came, and they pushed on down to the isthmus, where the snow, which was becoming more and more sleety, swept about their faces with double force. In a few moments, however, they reached the shelter of the woods, which covered pretty much the whole of that part of the island; and then came the question whether it would be better to work along the beach or plunge into the woods.
The Ice Queen Page 11
