by Bob Chaulk
“I don’t think I feel like a story right now.”
“Don’t ya? Well, I feel like tellin’ one anyway,” said Henry. “One summer when he was fishin’ on the Labrador he had a little something goin’ with this nurse who worked for the Grenfell Mission in Battle Harbour, before they had the big fire up there. She used to travel along the coast in the winter by dog team visiting all the little outports. They had a big dog team and a long komatik to carry all of her medical supplies. He said that if they came upon a swatch of water that was too wide for the dogs to jump across, the driver would take the lead dog still harnessed and throw him across the water to the ice on the other side. Then he would throw another one. When he got them all across they would start pullin’ and haul the komatik across the lead—so long as it wasn’t more than four or five feet across. If the ice was too loose, he would throw one dog across and then haul on the harness and the dog would stand his ground until they hauled the clumper over with the dog on it. Then he’d get on that one and throw the dog to the next clumper and so on until they got ashore.”
“Hmph. And I thought we were movin’ slow,” said Jackie.
“Maybe I should hitch my towin’ rope onto you and throw you across there,” Henry joked.
“Sure. Why not?”
A gust of wind took their breath away, a reminder that the northerly wind that was sending them in the right direction was a cold wind—colder than it had been during any of the time they had been adrift. Anybody falling overboard today would have a hard time surviving.
Jackie stood in front of Henry, taking advantage of the tiny bit of shelter Henry’s body offered, as they scoped out the ice and the land beyond. “I can see three fairly wide leads about half a gunshot or so away,” said Henry. “They might be closin’ up a bit, though. If they tighten up enough before dark, I think we could leave this one and try headin’ in.”
“Now you’re talkin’,” said Jackie, turning around with a grin.
“You sure you’re not—”
He stopped dead, his eyes bulging from his head, and pointed behind Henry. Henry turned to behold a massive seal lying on the ice about a hundred feet away, seemingly oblivious to them.
“Well, hello there, old fella. Now aren’t you something!” said Henry.
“That’s a strange lookin’ thing,” said Jackie. “Is it a hood?”
“That’s a dog hood, my son, probably the biggest seal you’ll ever see, and he’s exactly what we need, Jack. There’s at least a hundred pounds of old fat on him, the makings of a nice, big, smokey fire. But you got to shoot those brutes with an old-time sealing gun or a high-calibre rifle. We won’t get far with nothing but a puny gaff and a knife.”
“He looks pretty sure of himself,” said Jackie.
“Yeah, he sure does,” Henry replied, as he gazed longingly at this possible answer to their needs. The thing had to be at least twelve feet long from scutters to nose. He sat facing the water on a flat area perhaps ten feet from the edge of their ice floe, backed by an area of rough pinnacles. “How did we miss seeing him before now? He must have come up during the night. Looks like he’s been there for a few hours, long enough so that he’s after getting used to us. As long as we don’t get too close he won’t see us as a threat.”
“Lord, what a size! Isn’t there some way we can kill him?” Jackie asked.
“I doubt it…well, it’s a long shot but maybe if you can get his attention I can try to shove the gaff down his throat and choke him to death. But if he chomps down on it he could probably bite the handle off. He might eat the whole bloomin’ gaff and shit it out for all I know.”
“Well, it’s worth a try,” said Jackie. “We gotta do something.”
“Okay, we’ll give it a go, then. Let’s see now—you sneak around behind him. When I give the word you start yellin’ and when he turns towards you I’ll dodge up behind him, and then I’ll start yellin’. As soon as I start, you stop; all right? He should turn back towards me and when he does I’ll give it to ’im. You’ll need to be nimble, now, ’cause he’ll be like the lightning if he comes after ya. Go up on that high pinnacle so he can’t get at ya. Go on.”
As Jackie slowly walked around him in a wide circle, the old dog watched his every step. He was leery of this activity, preferring that everybody stay in their places. As Jackie got behind him the seal slowly shuffled around to keep him in sight, like the second hand on a clock. There was no need to make any sound; the monster was cooperating. Henry got into position. With the gaff held straight out, he yelled, “Hey, stupid!”
The seal whipped around, obviously disliking the surprise. Baring its huge teeth, it took one look at Henry and headed for the water behind him. In a second it bolted past him and was gone. Everything happened so quickly that Henry could do nothing but leap out of the way or the thing would have ploughed him into the water.
“Shit!” he yelled while looking over at the widening rings on the water’s surface. “Damn you, you miserable bla’guard. Shit!”
“I thought you said they were saucy,” said Jackie.
“They usually are, b’y. I don’t know what got into him.”
“Hey!” Jackie called from atop the pinnacle. “There’s another great big one over here.”
Henry leapt up on the pinnacle. “That’s more like it,” he said. “We might be able to swat her to death. She got no hood on her like the dog.”
“Let’s just kill the baby and let the bitch go,” Jackie suggested, as he watched the bitch prepare for battle.
“No, the pup’s not enough. We need ’em both. Let’s just make sure we don’t arse this one up. We’ll go for the bitch first; the young one’s not goin’ anywhere.”
Henry walked towards the seal, his eyes locked to hers. She trundled over between him and the pup, snarling and waving her head. Henry made sure he was positioned to block her escape into the water, while leaving a buffer between himself and the edge of the floe. This time he was determined to stand his ground, poking the gaff towards her face and looking for an opening. But she was aggressive, a typical hood, and he kept inching back as they squared off. With the water behind him getting closer, he knew he had to act. He raised the gaff and brought it down with a thud on her head. She bowed momentarily, but quickly recovered. He wound up again, raising the gaff as high as he dared in the few seconds she allowed him, took aim for his second strike and smacked it down with all his might. But she was coming too fast and the handle struck her between the eyes, snapping off at the point of impact. She reared up again and charged at him, forcing him to jump over her. He came down face first on top of her, and braced himself to be carried into the water, but she spun around just as he landed, dumping him onto the ice. The jaws started snapping again, as he lay on his back with his legs churning like a baseball player running for home, and trying to keep those lightning jaws from connecting.
Jackie ran over, yelling and waving his arms. He grabbed what was left of the gaff handle and walloped the seal’s nose and mouth, diverting her attention from Henry. She turned towards him and thrust forward. He leapt away, taking another swing as he went. She flung her head back and caught the handle between her teeth, wrenching it from him. He turned to run but she wasn’t giving up; with her mouth wide and snarling, she had him.
A recollection of a pair of horrified eyes, looking back into his, flashed through Henry’s mind. He had to save Jackie. He flung himself at the seal, tearing at her with his bare hands, desperately trying to distract her. The thing turned on him again, and in seconds he was tumbling across the ice, with the beast in pursuit. As he slid by he grabbed at what remained of the gaff and turned around just in time to plant it firmly in the seal’s cavernous jaws. Before she could clamp her teeth down on it, Henry was stopped dead by a high pinnacle. With the handle sticking from her mouth, while she thrashed her head from side to side, she slammed into the pinnacle face first, crushing Henry and impaling herself on the handle as it tore its way down her throat. Unable to m
ove, he waited to receive the coup de grace, but she was finished. He stared, engrossed, as a gurgling, grinding sound came from deep within her. In a few minutes she had suffocated: a dreadful, agonizing death.
Shaking violently, Jackie ran towards Henry. It was impossible to tell whose blood Henry and the seal were lying in, but at least Henry was conscious. Thank God for that!
Henry looked up. “Jack, you all right? You got a nasty-lookin’ tear in your boot, there.”
“She just missed me. I’m okay,” Jackie replied weakly, slumping down beside him. “Are you?”
“I dunno. I can’t budge. I guess she’s dead, is she? I keep waitin’ for her to rear up and finish me off. Is there any way you can get her off me or drag me outa this?”
Somehow Jackie found the strength to extricate Henry by pushing first on the blob that had him jammed against the pinnacle and then pulling on Henry’s arm and shoulder. Like a wounded spider emerging from a fresh footprint, Henry dragged himself a few feet away and lay down to catch his breath. “I don’t like the look of that blood on my boot. I think that came outa me, and my leg hurts like hell. You gave her some godawful swat in the chops,” he managed to joke.
“Yeah. I don’t think she felt a thing. Did you hear it bounce off her teeth?”
“I sure did. Where’s the end of the gaff?” Henry asked, as he scanned the area. “Don’t tell me it went overboard.”
“It went overboard,” said Jackie flatly.
“Oh, great! I can’t move and now we got no gaff.”
“But we got a nice big seal,” said Jackie.
“You’ll have to sculp her; I don’t believe I can move. I think my leg might be broke.”
He dragged himself over to the seal and winced at the sight of the carnage, the bloody handle still sticking out of her mouth. “Sorry, old girl,” he gasped. With his own throbbing pain he felt sympathy for the creature’s ghastly death, bearing her no ill will for laying him low. They were struggling to survive in circumstances that were conspiring to finish them both off, and he knew that his injury meant the fight had taken an ominous turn.
“Okay then, Jack. Let’s see if you can get the missus here to give us her coat.”
With Henry propped up on one elbow and trying to direct the effort, Jackie tried his best to wrangle the five hundred pound deadweight, but the thing was simply too heavy for one person to manhandle. “Never mind trying to get the sculp off, Jack. Just cut off whatever you can. This is no time to worry about being artistic; it will have to be cut up for burning anyway.” Jackie kept at it and eventually the fur and chunks of fat had amassed nicely.
“Jack, there’s a lot of swelling going on here with my leg; I can’t stick it any longer. Pull my boot off, will ya.”
A half minute later he was howling in pain. “Stop! Stop! It’s not gonna come off that way. Take the knife and cut it off.”
That provided some relief, but removing the boot created a new problem: the possibility of frostbite. “See if you can wrap some of that fur around this area here, to keep the whole works from freezin’, but for God’s sake be careful. I never felt pain like that in all my life. Put the fur on the inside and maybe the fat will freeze and form a bit of a splint around it.”
“Henry, maybe you should sit up against the seal. It’s kind of gross but it might keep you warm. You can’t stay where you’re at.”
As Jackie helped him over to the seal, Henry thought how much he had become like a seal himself, hauling himself about with his elbows as he lay on his back dragging his broken leg. They finally got there and Jackie propped him against the warm carcass. “How’s that?” he asked.
“Good; best kind.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. Why are you starin’ at me like that?”
“I’m not starin’.”
“Hah. I guess I don’t look so good, eh?”
“You look fine.”
There was an awkward silence. I must look pretty bad, Henry thought. He could see the worry on Jackie’s face as he tried to shoulder the new responsibility being thrust upon him.
“We might as well stop bullshittin’ one another, Jack,” said Henry. “I won’t be copyin’ my way ashore with this leg, so I guess I’ll have to stay right where I’m at until we’re rescued. That minute or so of fightin’ that seal is after changin’ everything.”
“I guess so.”
“The best thing we can do right now is get a signal fire goin’. The day is movin’ on and the wind is died down, and we’ve pretty well stopped drifting, so our plans for walkin’ ashore don’t matter anyway.” Jackie got the fire going as close to Henry as they dared, so it could provide a little warmth, and they dined on the raw carcass. “The pups were a lot better” said Jackie. “This stuff is pretty strong—”
“We got plenty, though; that’s the main thing.”
“…and bloody stringy, too. Yech!”
“That’s an old hood for ya. You should ask for your money back. I wonder if that pup is still around. I forgot all about him. You should have a look around when you get a minute.”
They followed the smoke into the sky, praying that it was still light enough to be seen. Henry started separating some of the strands of his towrope to make twine, which he used to attach the knife to the end of the gaff to make a crude spear.
chapter thirty-eight
Throughout the day, people from the villages on North Twillingate Island had kept a watch; men, women, and children had climbed atop the bald hills that ring Twillingate’s big harbour to look out whenever they had a few minutes, as they had done yesterday and the day before. With the day drawing to a close, hope was fading. Heavy cloud moved in and the air grew calm, which the old salts knew portended a change of wind direction to be followed by a change of weather. With the air warming up, Jim was of the opinion that rain was on the way.
As the sky turned dark, people started to head back home, hearts heavy with disappointment. Suddenly there was a shout! Was it smoke? A telescope appeared. Indeed it was, beyond a doubt, rising straight into the sky eight or ten miles away, the kind of smoke that could only come from the burning of sealskins.
Word spread quickly. Those with a view across the tickle could see the smoke from an upstairs window. Some were of the opinion that it came from local sealers caught out on the ice, perhaps somebody out from Moreton’s Harbour. They all agreed that there was nobody missing from the Twillingate area. Perhaps it might be survivors from the Viking.
With school out, Emily rushed up Whitehorne’s Hill to get a clear view of the ocean. She could not help glancing towards the Church of England cemetery below to her right, nestled invitingly between two hills behind the historic church. Her eyes fixed momentarily on the neat rows of headstones; she turned away quickly. Looking to the horizon she beheld the unmistakable ribbon of smoke. Her heart pounded with excitement. It was like receiving a wireless message from Henry himself, finally letting her know that he had not given up. She ran home, sure that plans were underway to get straight out there to pick up Henry and the young stowaway and bring them in.
To her dismay there were no such plans. Her father patiently explained that it was too late in the day; by the time they got organized it would be too dark to search. Besides that, the northerly wind had slacked off and it was not pushing the ice in any farther. He chose not to mention what really worried him—the threat of rain. He felt sure that whoever was out there would not have oil clothes to keep them dry. So it was just a matter of time before the limited heat in their bodies ebbed away—slowly if it remained mild or quicker if it turned cold.
Henry was observing the same things. Their progress in the bay had halted. Even Jackie noticed it. The warming air also troubled Henry. If a wind came up from any southerly point on the compass they could be blown back out the bay. Their situation, always precarious, was now becoming desperate.
“There’s only one thing to do,” Jackie decided. “I’ll have to try to get ashore and bring back some
help.”
Henry said nothing. His chances were slim but if a southerly wind came up, their bridge ashore—inadequate though it was—could be swept out to sea and they would have missed their chance; they dared not let this opportunity slip away. Jackie deserved a chance at survival, even a remote one, and he had no right to prevent him from trying. As he patiently tied the twine around the bottom of the gaff, he glanced up to see Jackie surveying the ice and the land afar off, assuming the posture of an ice captain of vast experience.
“Okay, let’s see what we got here,” said Henry. “Bang this around a bit and see if it holds together.”
Jackie poked and prodded the ice with the improvised gaff. “Seems okay.”
“It’s just the right length for you, now,” said Henry. “You look like a soldier, goin’ to the ice. You got no hook, now, so if you fall overboard you won’t be able to haul yourself out.”
“So, don’t fall overboard, right?”
“Something like that.”
“Good advice. I’ll make sure I remember.”
“I don’t see any houses anywhere,” said Henry. “Do you?”
“No, but I can see the light.”
“To the right of the light is the community of Crow Head and then farther right is Back Harbour. If you can get in a ways you might be able to see one of them before they all douse their lamps for the night. Try your best to land at one of those spots or you’ll find yourself up against the cliffs. When it gets dark you might be tempted to head for the lighthouse because that will be the only bright thing around, but don’t do it; you’ll never be able to get up the cliff out there. And whatever you do, don’t go left of the light; there’s nothing in that direction but more of what you’ve been seeing for the last five days.”
“The lighthouse is pretty hard to see,” said Jackie.
“When it gets darker you’ll be able to see it better. Here, take a couple of pieces of the missus with you; you might be out there for a while. I made you a little pouch with some meat in it. Stick it in your pocket.
