Ungava, Robert Michael Ballantyne [read 50 shades of grey TXT] 📗

plates, spoons, and knives, which had been just laid out on the ground in front of the canoe.

"Ach! mauvais chien," growled Gaspard, as he picked up and threw away the fragments of his pipe, "you're always cuttin' and jumpin' about like a monkey."

"Oh! pauvre crapaud," cried Francois, laughing; "don't abuse him, Gaspard. He's a useful dog in his way."

"Tare an' ages! you've done it now, ye have. Bad luck to ye! wasn't I for iver tellin' ye that same. Shure, if it wasn't that ye're no bigger or heavier than a wisp o' pea straw, ye'd have druve me and the soup into the fire, ye would. Be the big toe o' St. Patrick, not to mintion his riverince the Pope--"

"Come, come, Bryan," cried Massan, "don't speak ill o' the Pope, an' down wi' the kettle."

"The kittle, is it? Sorra a kittle ye'll touch, Massan, till it's cool enough to let us all start fair at wance. Ye've got yer mouth and throat lined wi' brass, I believe, an' would ate the half o't before a soul of us could taste it!"

"Don't insult me, you red-faced racoon," retorted Massan, while he and his comrades circled round the kettle, and began a vigorous attack on the scalding mess; "my throat is not so used to swallowin' fire as your own. I never knowed a man that payed into the grub as you do.--Bah! how hot it is.--I say, Oolibuck, doesn't it remember you o' the dogs o' yer own country, when they gits the stone kettle to clean out?"

Oolibuck's broad visage expanded with a chuckle as he lifted an enormous wooden spoonful of soup to his ample mouth. "Me tink de dogs of de Innuit [Esquimaux] make short work of dis kettle if 'e had 'im."

"Do the dogs of the Huskies eat with their masters?" inquired Francois, as he groped in the kettle with his fork in search of a piece of pork.

"Dey not eat _wid_ der masters, but dey al'ays clean hout de kettle," replied Moses, somewhat indignantly.

"Ha!" exclaimed Massan, pausing for a few minutes to recover breath; "yes, they always let the dogs finish off the feast. Ye must know, comrades, that I've seed them do it myself--anyways I've seed a man that knew a feller who said he had a comrade that wintered once with the Huskies, which is pretty much the same thing. An' he said that sometimes when they kill a big seal, they boil it whole an' have a rig'lar feast. Ye must understand, mes garcons, that the Huskies make thumpin' big kettles out o' a kind o' soft stone they find in them parts, an' some o' them's big enough to boil a whole seal in. Well, when the beast is cooked, they take it out o' the pot, an' while they're tuckin' into it, the dogs come and sit in a ring round the pot to wait till the soup's cool enough to eat. They knows well that it's too hot at first, an' that they must have a deal o' patience; but afore long some o' the young uns can't hold on, so they steps up somewhat desperate like, and pokes their snouts in. Of course they pulls them out pretty sharp with a yell, and sit down to rub their noses for a bit longer. Then the old uns take courage an' make a snap at it now and again, but very tenderly, till it gits cooler at last, an' then at it they go, worryin', an' scufflin', an' barkin', an' gallopin', just like Moses there, till the pot's as clean as the day it wos made."

"Ha! ha! oh, ver' goot, tres bien; ah! mon coeur, just tres splendiferous!" shouted La Roche, whose risibility was always easily tickled.

"It's quite true, though--isn't it, Moses?" said Massan, as he once more applied to the kettle, while some of his comrades cut up the goose that Frank had shot in the afternoon.

"Why, Moses, what a capacity you have for grub!" said Francois. "If your countrymen are anything like you, I don't wonder that they have boiled seals and whales for dinner."

"It'll take a screamin' kittle for a whale," spluttered Bryan, with his mouth full, "an' a power o' dogs to drink the broth."

"You tink you funny, Bryan," retorted Moses, while an oily smile beamed on his fat, good-humoured countenance; "but you not; you most dreadful stupid."

"Thrue for ye, Moses; I was oncommon stupid to let you sit so long beside the kittle," replied the Irishman, as he made a futile effort to scrape another spoonful from the bottom of it. "Och! but ye've licked it as clane as one of yer own dogs could ha' done it."

"Mind your eye!" growled Gaspard, at the same time giving La Roche a violent push, as that volatile worthy, in one of his eccentric movements, nearly upset his can of water.

"Oh! pardon, monsieur," exclaimed La Roche, in pretended sorrow, at the same time making a grotesque bow that caused a general peal of laughter.

"Why, one might as well travel with a sick bear as with you, Gaspard," said Francois half angrily.

"Hold your jaw," replied Gaspard.

"Not at your bidding," retorted Francois, half rising from his reclining posture, while his colour heightened. Gaspard had also started up, and it seemed as if the little camp were in danger of becoming a scene of strife, when Dick Prince, who was habitually silent and unobtrusive, preferring generally to listen rather than to speak, laid his hand on Gaspard's broad shoulder and pulled him somewhat forcibly to the ground.

"Shame on you, comrades!" he said, in a low, grave voice, that instantly produced a dead silence; "shame on you, to quarrel on our first night in the bush! We've few enough friends in these parts, I think, that we should make enemies o' each other."

"That's well said," cried Massan, in a very decided tone. "It won't do to fall out when there's so few of us." And the stout voyageur thrust his foot against the logs on the fire, causing a rich cloud of sparks to ascend, as if to throw additional light on his remark.

"Pardon me, mes comrades," cried Francois; "I did not intend to quarrel;" and he extended his hand to Gaspard, who took it in silence, and dropping back again to his recumbent posture, resumed his pipe.

This little scene was witnessed by the party in the tent, who were near enough to overhear all that was said by the men, and even to converse with them if they should desire to do so. A shade of anxiety crossed Mr Stanley's countenance, and some time after, recurring to the subject, he said--

"I don't feel quite easy about that fellow Gaspard. He seems a sulky dog, and is such a Hercules that he might give us a deal of trouble if he were high-spirited."

A slight smile of contempt curled Frank's lip as he said, "A strong arm without a bold heart is not of more value than that of my Eda here in the hour of danger. But I think better of Gaspard than you seem to do. He's a sulky enough dog, 'tis true; but he is a good, hard worker, and does not grumble; and I sometimes have noticed traces of a better spirit than usually meets the eye. As for his bulk, I think nothing of it; he wants high spirit to make it available. Francois could thrash him any day."

"Perhaps so," replied Stanley; "I hope they won't try their mettle on each other sooner than we expect. Not that I care a whit for any of the men having a round or two now and then and be done with it; but this fellow seems to `nurse his wrath to keep it warm.' On such an expedition as ours, it behoves us to have a good understanding and a kindly feeling in the camp. One black sheep in the flock may do much damage."

"He's only piebald, not black," said Frank, laughing, as he rose to quit the tent. "But I must leave you. I see that Eda's eyes are refusing to keep open any longer, so good-night to you all, and a sound sleep."

Frank's concluding remarks in reference to him were overheard by Gaspard, who had risen to look at the night, and afterwards kneeled near the tent, in order to be at some distance from his comrades while he said his prayers; for, strange though it may seem, many of the rough and reckless voyageurs of that country, most of whom are Roman Catholics, regularly retire each night to kneel and pray beneath a tree before lying down on their leafy couches, and deem the act quite consistent with the swearing and quarrelling life that too many of them lead. Such is human nature. As Gaspard rose from his knees Frank's words fell upon his ear, and when he drew his blanket over his head that night there was a softer spot in his heart and a wrinkle less on his brow.

When Frank stepped over to the place where his canoe lay, the aspect of the camp was very different from what it had been an hour before. The fire had burned low, and was little more than a mass of glowing embers, from which a fitful flame shot forth now and then, casting a momentary glare on the forms of the men, who, having finished their pipes, were all extended in a row, side by side, under the large canoe. As they possessed only a single green blanket each, they had to make the most of their coverings, by rolling them tightly around their bodies, and doubling the ends down under their feet and over their heads; so that they resembled a row of green bolsters, all their feet being presented towards the fire, and all their heads resting on their folded capotes. A good deal of loud and regular snoring proved that toil and robust health seldom court the drowsy god long in vain. Turning to his own canoe, Frank observed that his Indian friends were extended out under it, with a wide space between them, in which his own bedding was neatly arranged. The grave sons of the forest had lain down to rest long before their white comrades, and they now lay as silent and motionless as the canoe that covered their heads. Being a small canoe, it did not afford protection to their legs and feet; but in fine weather this was of no consequence, and for the morrow they cared not.

Before lying down Frank kneeled to commend himself and his comrades to the protection of God; then stirring up the embers of the fire, he pulled out a small Bible from his breast pocket and sat down on a log to read. Frank was a careless, rollicking, kind-hearted fellow, and how much there was of true religion in these acts none but himself could tell. But the _habit_ of reading the Word, and of prayer, had been instilled into him from infancy by a godly mother, and he carried it with him into the wilderness.

When he drew his blanket over him and laid his head on his capote the stars were still twinkling, and the moon still sailed in a clear sky and gave silver edges to the ice upon the sea. All was calm and