t’ stop me.”
“I’ll take care of you!” laughed Doctor Joe. “Just let’s agree, if things get tedious, we’ll keep cheerful and not let anything we can’t help worry us.”
“Aye,” said Thomas, “we’ll agree to that, though I’m not doubtin’ ’twill be a bit hard now and again to be cheery with a broken leg all lashed up like mine is, and me on my back.”
And so it was agreed that they were to look misfortune squarely in the face, as brave men should, without flinching. And need enough they were to have, in the months to come, for all the courage and fortitude they possessed.
IV
INDIAN JAKE, THE HALF BREED
AS soon as ever Margaret could get them a cup of tea and a snack to eat, David and Andy were to be off upon their voyage to the post. They were good boatmen and sailors, both of them, for down on The Labrador every lad learns the art of sailing early. Often enough they had made the journey to the post in the small boat. But now they were to be entrusted with the big boat, and with the season’s catch of fish as cargo, and they were to purchase the winter’s supplies for the house. This was an important mission indeed.
David, as skipper of the big boat, and Andy as crew, therefore felt a vast deal of responsibility, when Thomas called them to his bedside and gave David the final instructions. They were to bring back with them flour, pork, tea and molasses for the house, and woolen duffle, kersey and moleskin cloth for clothing, besides many little odds and ends to be purchased at the store. Then there were verbal messages to be delivered to Mr. MacCreary, the factor, and to Zeke Hodge, the post servant.
“And tell Mr. MacCreary I may be askin’ he for more debt than I been askin’ for many a year,” added Thomas with a tinge of regret, for it had been his pride to avoid debt. “But tell he I’ll pay un. I’ll pay un all when my leg is mended and I gets about again.”
“I’ll tell he, sir,” said David.
“’Twouldn’t be so bad, now, if you had two more years on your shoulders, Davy, lad,” Thomas continued, a little wistfully. “You could tend my trail then, and we might get th’ money t’ send Jamie for the cure.”
“I’m ’most sixteen!” David boasted. “I could tend un now. I knows I could, an’ you’d let me try un.”
“You’re too young yet, lad,” Thomas objected. “You’re too young to be alone up there in th’ bush, I couldn’t rest easy with you up there alone.”
“I could try un, whatever,” persisted David, eagerly.
“I’m not sayin’ you couldn’t tend th’ traps, lad,” assured Thomas, with pride. “You’d tend un, and not slight un. But a lad o’ your age is too young t’ be reasonable always. You’d take risks on nasty days, and run dangers. No,” he added decidedly, “I couldn’t think o’ lettin’ you go alone. If anything were to happen to you I never could rest easy again.”
David was plainly disappointed, for he felt the reliance and self-confidence of youth, and the romance and adventure of a winter’s isolation on the far-off trail appealed to him. And in his heart perhaps he resented what he deemed his father’s lack of confidence in him as a woodsman. It is the way of boys the world over to place their judgment sometimes above that of their elders.
The two lads ate their snack and drank their tea hurriedly, for the day was none too long, and then, with Doctor Joe to accompany them to the jetty and see them off with a cheery farewell, they loosed the boat from her moorings and David, with a long sculling oar, worked her down through The Jug and beyond the Point, where her sails caught the wind. Then David put away the sculling oar, shipped the rudder, and took the tiller, and turning to Andy he said:
“Since Pop broke his leg I been thinking’ wonderful hard, Andy.”
“What you been thinkin’, Davy?” asked Andy.
“I been thinkin’ I’ve got t’ hunt now, whatever,” announced David. “I’m goin’ t’ ask Pop again t’ let me hunt his trail this winter. He were sayin’ I can’t, but somebody must hunt un, and I’m th’ only one t’ do it. We got t’ have fur t’ pay for th’ cure o’ Jamie’s eyes, and Pop can’t hunt, and they’s no way t’ get un if I don’t hunt. If we don’t get un, Jimmie’ll go blind, and we must get un, whatever. You’ll have t’ do my work about home and hunt th’ meat and feed th’ dogs, and get th’ wood.”
“Pop won’t let you go t’ Seal Lake alone!” exclaimed Andy, startled by David’s apparent revolt against his father’s decision. “He said you couldn’t!”
“Yes he will. You’ll see,” declared David. “I has a plan, an’ Pop’ll let me go, I’m thinkin’, when he hears un. And ’tis th’ only chance t’ save Jamie from goin’ blind. I can’t make th’ hunt Pop would, but I’ll do my best, and anyway I’m ’most a man. I’ll soon be sixteen!”
David, standing in the stern of the boat, drew himself to his full height and squared his shoulders, and indeed he was a stalwart lad, and Andy was proud of his big brother.
“You is fine and strong!” said Andy in admiration.
“Aye, that I be,” admitted David with no little pride, “and you’re fine and strong, too, for your age. You can handle th’ dogs and ’tend th’ traps about home, and look after things whilst I’m away, and we’ll show Pop and Doctor Joe what we can do.”
“And Pop lets you go!” said Andy. “But I’m wonderful afraid, now, he won’t let you go.”
“But I has a plan. You’ll see,” said David with assurance.
“What’s your plan, now?” asked Andy.
“’Tis a plan come t’ me while Doctor Joe were settin’ Pop’s leg,” said David, “but I weren’t tellin’ he about un when he speaks of my goin’. I wanted t’ find out first. Indian Jake is back in th’ Bay, and he’s wantin’ a place t’ hunt on shares because he can’t buy his own traps. He’s been away two years, and th’ Company won’t let he have traps on debt because he’s owin’ so much there already that he didn’t pay before he goes away. Trowbridge & Gray won’t let he have traps because he took his fur away two years ago when he were owin’ so much, and didn’t try t’ clear up any of his debt. Pop’s got plenty o’ traps, and my plan is t’ have Indian Jake hunt along o’ me on shares.”
“It seems like cheatin’ for Indian Jake t’ take his fur away when he were owin’ a debt t’ th’ Company,” suggested Andy.
“’Tweren’t honest,” agreed David, “but he’s sayin’ now if he has a chance he’ll pay his debt. It seems hard for he not t’ have a chance, and by huntin’ on shares along o’ me ’twill give he a chance, and ’twill help us. Pop will have a third o’ Indian Jake’s hunt, and he’s ’most as good a hunter as Pop. Then I’ll have some one t’ hunt with, and I’ll be safe, and Pop won’t mind my goin’. All o’ my hunt and a third o’ Indian Jake’s, I’m thinkin’, would be ’most as much as Pop’s would ha’ been if he hadn’t broke his leg. Then Pop and Doctor Joe will sure have th’ money t’ pay for fixin’ Jamie’s eyes.”
“Oh, I hopes he’ll let you go!” exclaimed Andy. “Th’ plan is fine!”
