Fort Desolation: Red Indians and Fur Traders of Rupert's Land

Now, while his master was enduring those uncomfortable feelings in the hall, Teddy was undergoing torments in the kitchen that are past description. He had had a grandmother—with no nose to speak of, a mouth large enough for two, four teeth, and one eye—who had stuffed him in his youth with horrible stories as full as a doll is of sawdust. That old lady’s influence was now strong upon him. Every gust of wind that rumbled in the chimney sent a qualm to his heart. Every creak in the beams of his wooden kitchen startled his soul. Every accidental noise that occurred filled him with unutterable horror. The door, being clumsily made, fitted badly in all its parts, so that it shook and rattled in a perfectly heartrending manner.

Teddy resolved to cure this. He stuck bits of wood in the opening between it and the floor, besides jamming several nails in at the sides and top. Still, the latch would rattle, being complicated in construction, and not easily checked in all its parts. But Teddy was an ingenious fellow. He settled the latch by stuffing it and covering it with a mass of dough! In order further to secure things, he placed a small table against the door, and then sat down on a bench to smoke his pipe beside the door.

It was at this point in the evening that Jack resolved, as we have said, to be condescending.

As he had hitherto very seldom smoked his pipe in the kitchen, his footstep in the passage caused O’Donel’s very marrow to quake. He turned as pale as death and became rigid with terror, so that he resembled nothing but an Irish statue of very dirty and discoloured marble.

When Jack put his hand on the latch, Teddy gasped once—he was incapable of more! The vision of the poor Indian woman rose before his mental eye, and he—well, it’s of no use to attempt saying what he thought or felt!

The obstruction in the latch puzzled Jack not a little. He was surprised at its stiffness. The passage between the hall and kitchen was rather dark, so that he was somewhat nervous and impatient to open the door. It happened that he had left the door by which he had quitted the hall partially open. A gust of wind shut this with a bang that sent every drop of blood into his heart, whence it rebounded into his extremities. The impulse thus communicated to his hand was irresistible. The door was burst in; as a matter of course the table was hurled into the middle of the kitchen, where it was violently arrested by the stove. Poor Teddy O’Donel, unable to stand it any longer, toppled backwards over the bench with a hideous yell, and fell headlong into a mass of pans, kettles, and firewood, where he lay sprawling and roaring at the full power of his lungs, and keeping up an irregular discharge of such things as came to hand at the supposed ghost, who sheltered himself as he best might behind the stove.

“Hold hard, you frightened ass!” shouted Jack as a billet of wood whizzed over his head.

“Eh! what? It’s you, sur? O, musha, av I didn’t belave it was the ghost at last!”

“I tell you what, my man,” said Jack, who was a good deal nettled at his reception, “I would advise you to make sure that it is a ghost next time before you shie pots and kettles about in that way. See what a smash you have made. Why, what on earth have you been doing to the door?”

“Sure I only stuffed up the kayhole to keep out the wind.”

“Humph! and the ghosts, I suppose. Well, see that you are up betimes to-morrow and have these salmon nets looked over and repaired.”

So saying, Jack turned on his heel and left the room, feeling too much annoyed to carry out his original intention of smoking a pipe with his man. He spent the evening, therefore, in reading a pocket copy of Shakespeare, and retired to rest at the usual hour in a more composed frame of mind, and rather inclined to laugh at his superstitious fears.

It happened, unfortunately, that from his window, as he lay on his bed, Jack could see the graveyard. This fact had never been noticed by him before, although he had lain there nightly since his arrival, and looked over the yard to the beach and the sea beyond. Now, the night being bright moonlight, he could see it with appalling distinctness. Sleep was banished from his eyes, and although he frequently turned with resolution to the wall and shut them, he was invariably brought back to his old position as if by a species of fascination.

Meanwhile Teddy O’Donel lay absolutely quaking in the kitchen. Unable to endure it, he at last rose, opened the door softly, and creeping up as near us he dared venture to his master’s door, sat down there, as he said, “for company.” In course of time he fell asleep.

Jack, being more imaginative, remained awake. Presently he saw a figure moving near the churchyard. It was white—at least the upper half of it was.

“Pshaw! this is positive folly; my digestion must be out of order,” muttered Jack, rubbing his eyes; but the rubbing did not dissipate the figure which moved past the yard and approached the fort. At that moment Teddy O’Donel gave vent to a prolonged snore. Delivered as it was against the wooden step on which his nose was flattened, it sounded dreadfully like a groan. Almost mad with indignation and alarm, Jack Robinson leaped from his bed and pulled on his trousers, resolved to bring things to an issue of some sort.

He threw open his chamber door with violence and descended the staircase noisily, intending to arouse his man. He did arouse him, effectually, by placing his foot on the back of his head and crushing his face against the steps with such force as to produce a roar that would have put to shame the war-whoop of the wildest savage in America.

In endeavouring to recover himself, Jack fell upon Teddy and they rolled head-over-heels down the steps together towards the door of the house, which was opened at that instant by Ladoc, who had walked up to the fort, clad only in his shirt and trousers, (the night being warm), to give a report of the condition of things at the fishery, where he and Rollo had quarrelled, and the men generally were in a state of mutiny.

Chapter Nine.

The Bully receives a Lesson

We regret to be compelled to chronicle the fact, that Jack Robinson lost command of his temper on the occasion referred to in the last chapter. He and Teddy O’Donel rolled to the very feet of the amazed Ladoc, before the force of their fall was expended. They sprang up instantly, and Jack dealt the Irishman an open-handed box on the ear that sent him staggering against one of the pillars of the verandah, and resounded in the still night air like a pistol-shot. Poor Teddy would have fired up under other circumstances, but he felt so deeply ashamed of having caused the undignified mishap to his master, that he pocketed the affront, and quietly retired towards his kitchen. On his way thither, however, he was arrested by the tremendous tone in which Jack demanded of Ladoc the reason of his appearance at such an untimely hour.

There was a slight dash of insolence in the man’s reply.

“I come up, monsieur,” said he, “to tell you if there be two masters at fishery, I not be one of ’em. Rollo tink he do vat him please, mais I say, no; so ve quarrel.”

“And so, you take upon you to desert your post,” thundered Jack.

“Vraiment, oui,” coolly replied Ladoc.

Jack clenched his fist and sprang at the man as a bull-terrier might leap on a mastiff. Almost in the act of striking he changed his mind, and, instead of delivering one of those scientific blows with which he had on more than one occasion in his past history terminated a fight at its very commencement, he seized Ladoc by the throat, tripped up his heels, and hurled him to the ground with such force, that he lay quite still for at least half a minute! Leaving him there to the care of O’Donel, who had returned, Jack went up to his bedroom, shut the door, thrust his hands into his pockets, and began to pace the floor rapidly, and to shake his head. Gradually his pace became slower, and the shaking of his head more sedate. Presently he soliloquised in an undertone.

“This won’t do, John Robinson. You’ve let off too much steam. Quite against your principles to be so violent—shame on you, man. Yet after all it was very provoking to be made such a fool of before that insolent fellow. Poor Teddy—I wish I hadn’t hit you such a slap. But, after all, you deserved it, you superstitious blockhead. Well, well, it’s of no use regretting. Glad I didn’t hit Ladoc, though, it’s too soon for that. Humph! the time has come for action, however. Things are drawing to a point. They shall culminate to-morrow. Let me see.”

Here Jack’s tones became inaudible, and he began to complete his toilette. His thoughts were busy—to judge from his knitted brows and compressed lips. The decision of his motions at last showed that he had made up his mind to a course of action.

It was with a cleared brow and a self-possessed expression of countenance that he descended, a few minutes later, to the hall, and summoned O’Donel.

That worthy, on making his appearance, looked confused, and began to stammer out—

“I beg parding, sur, but—but raally, you know—it, it was all owin’ to them abominable ghosts.”

Jack smiled, or rather, tried to smile, but owing to conflicting emotions the attempt resulted in a grin.

“Let bygones be bygones,” he said, “and send Ladoc here.”

Ladoc entered with a defiant expression, which was evidently somewhat forced.

Jack was seated at a table, turning over some papers. Without raising his head, he said—

“Be prepared to start for the fishery with me in half-an-hour, Ladoc.”

“Monsieur?” exclaimed the man, with a look of surprise.

Jack raised his head and looked at him. It was one of his peculiar looks.

“Did you not understand me?” he said, jumping up suddenly.

Ladoc vanished with an abrupt, “Oui, monsieur,” and Jack proceeded, with a real smile on his good-humoured face, to equip himself for the road.

In half an hour the two were walking silently side by side at a smart pace towards the fishery, while poor Teddy O’Donel was left, as he afterwards said, “all be his lone wid the ghost and the newly buried ooman,” in a state of mental agony, which may, perhaps, be conceived by those who possess strong imaginations, but which cannot by any possibility be adequately described.

Chapter Ten.

Strangers and Strange Events

The monotony of the night march to the fishery was enlivened by the unexpected apparition of a boat. There was just enough of moonlight to render it dimly visible a few hundred yards from the shore.

“Indians!” exclaimed Ladoc, breaking silence for the first time since they set out.

“The stroke is too steady and regular for Indians,” said Jack. “Boat ahoy!”

“Shore ahoy!” came back at once in the ringing tones of a seaman’s voice.

“Pull in; there’s plenty of water!” shouted Jack.

“Ay, ay,” was the response. In a few seconds the boat’s keel grated on the sand, and an active sailor jumped ashore. There were five other men in the boat.

“Where have you dropped from?” enquired Jack. “Well, the last place we dropped from,” answered the seaman, “was the port quarter davits of the good ship Ontario, Captain Jones, from Liverpool to Quebec, with a general cargo; that was last night, and ten minutes afterwards, the Ontario dropped to the bottom of the sea.”