Ungava Read online

  Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

  UNGAVA, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.

  Introduction.

  The following story is intended to illustrate one of the many phases ofthe fur-trader's life in those wild regions of North America whichsurround Hudson's Bay.

  Most of its major incidents are facts--fiction being employed chieflyfor the purpose of weaving these facts into a readable form.

  If this volume should chance to fall into the hands of any of those whoacted a part in the first settlement of Ungava, we trust that they willforgive the liberty that has been taken with their persons andadventures, remembering that transpositions, modifications, andtransformations are necessary in constructing a tale out of the "rawmaterial."

  We take this opportunity of expressing to the Leader of the adventurousband our grateful acknowledgements for his kindness in placing at ourdisposal the groundwork on which this story has been reared.

  R.M. Ballantyne.

  CHAPTER ONE.

  THE FOREST, AND THE LEADERS OF THE FOLORN-HOPE--A GOOD SHOT--ACONSULTATION--AN ICE-FLOE, AND A NARROW CHANCE OF ESCAPE IN A SMALL WAY.

  "Hallo! where are you!" shouted a voice that rang through the glades ofthe forest like the blast of a silver trumpet, testifying to lungs ofleather and a throat of brass.

  The ringing tones died away, and naught was heard save the rustling ofthe leafy canopy overhead, as the young man, whose shout had thus rudelydisturbed the surrounding echoes, leaned on the muzzle of a long rifle,and stood motionless as a statue, his right foot resting on the trunk ofa fallen tree, and his head bent slightly to one side, as if listeningfor a reply. But no reply came. A squirrel ran down the trunk of aneighbouring pine, and paused, with tail and ears erect, and its littleblack eyes glittering as if with surprise at the temerity of him who sorecklessly dared to intrude upon and desecrate with his powerful voicethe deep solitudes of the wilderness. They stood so long thus that itseemed as though the little animal and the man had been petrified by theunwonted sound. If so, the spell was quickly broken. The loud reportof a fowling-piece was heard at a short distance. The squirrelincontinently disappeared from the spot on which it stood, and almostinstantaneously reappeared on the topmost branch of a high tree; whilethe young man gave a smile of satisfaction, threw the rifle over hisshoulder, and, turning round, strode rapidly away in the directionwhence the shot proceeded.

  A few minutes' walk brought him to the banks of a little brook, by theside of which, on the projecting root of a tree, sat a man, with a deadgoose at his feet and a fowling-piece by his side. He was dressed inthe garb of a hunter; and, from the number of gray hairs that shone likethreads of silver among the black curls on his temples, he was evidentlypast the meridian of life--although, from the upright bearing of histall, muscular frame, and the quick glance of his fearless black eye, itwas equally evident that the vigour of his youth was not yet abated.

  "Why, Stanley," exclaimed the young man as he approached, "I've beenshouting till my throat is cracked, for at least half an hour. I verilybegan to think that you had forsaken me altogether."

  "In which case, Frank," replied the other, "I should have treated you asyou deserve, for your empty game-bag proves you an unworthy comrade inthe chase."

  "So, so, friend, do not boast," replied the youth with a smile; "if Imistake not, that goose was winging its way to the far north not tenminutes agone. Had I come up half an hour sooner, I suspect we shouldhave met on equal terms; but the fact is that I have not seen hair orfeather, save a tree-squirrel, since I left you in the morning."

  "Well, to say truth, I was equally unfortunate until I met this lucklessgoose, and fired the shot that brought him down and brought you up. ButI've had enough o' this now, and shall back to the fort again. What sayyou? Will you go in my canoe or walk?"

  The young man was silent for a few seconds; then, without replying tohis companion's question, he said,--"By-the-bye, is it not to-night thatyou mean to make another attempt to induce the men to volunteer for theexpedition!"

  "It is," replied Stanley, with a alight frown. "And what if they stillpersist in refusing to go?"

  "I'll try once more to shame them out of their cowardice. But if theywon't agree, I'll compel them to go by means of more powerful argumentsthan words."

  "'Tis not cowardice; you do the men injustice," said Frank, shaking hishead.

  "Well, well, I believe I do, lad; you're right," replied Stanley, whilea smile smoothed out the firm lines that had gathered round his lips fora few seconds. "No doubt they care as little for the anticipateddangers of the expedition as any men living, and they hesitate to gosimply because they know that the life before them will be a lonely oneat such an out-o'-the-way place as Ungava. But we can't help that,Frank; the interests of the Company must be attended to, and so go they_must_, willing or not willing. But I'm annoyed at this unexpecteddifficulty, for there's a mighty difference between men who volunteer togo and men who go merely because they must and can't help it."

  The young man slowly rubbed the stock of his rifle with the sleeve ofhis coat, and looked as if he understood and sympathised with hisfriend's chagrin.

  "If Prince were only here just now," said he, looking up, "there wouldbe no difficulty in the matter. These fellows only want a bold, heartycomrade to step forward and show them the way, and they will follow tothe North Pole if need be. They look upon our willingness to go as amere matter of course, though I don't see why we should be expected tolike banishment more than themselves. But if Prince were--"

  "Well, well, Prince is _not_ here, so we must do the best we can withouthim," said Stanley.

  As he spoke, the trumpet note of a goose was heard in the distance.

  "There he goes!--down with you!" exclaimed Frank, darting suddenlybehind the stump of the tree, while his companion crouched beside him,and both began to shout at the top of their voices in imitation of thegoose. The bird was foolish enough to accept the invitationimmediately, although, had it been other than a goose, it would haveeasily recognised the sound as a wretched counterfeit of the gooselanguage. It flew directly towards them, as geese always do in springwhen thus enticed, but passed at such a distance that the eldersportsman was induced to lower his piece.

  "Ah! he's too far off. You'd better give him a shot with the rifle,Frank; but you're sure to miss."

  "To hit, you mean," cried his companion, flushing with momentaryindignation at this disparaging remark. At the same moment he took arapid aim and fired. For a few yards the goose continued its forwardflight as if unhurt; then it wavered once or twice, and fell heavily tothe ground.

  "Bravo, boy!" cried Stanley. "There, don't look nettled; I only jestedwith you, knowing your weakness on the score of rifle-shooting. Now,pick up your bird, and throw it into the canoe, for I must away."

  Frank finished reloading his piece as his friend spoke, and went to pickup the goose; while the other walked down to the edge of the rivulet,and disengaged a light birch-bark canoe from the long grass and sedgesthat almost hid it from view.

  "Make haste, Frank!" he shouted; "there's the ice coming up with theflood-tide, and bearing down on the creek here."

  At a short distance from the spot where the sportsmen stood, thestreamlet already alluded to mingled its waters with a broad river,which, a few miles farther down, flows into James's Bay. As every oneknows, this bay lies to the south of Hudson's Bay, in North America.Here the river is about two miles wide; and the shores on either sidebeing low, it has all the appearance of an extensive lake. In spring,after the disruption of the ice, its waters are loaded with large floesand fields of ice; and later in the season, after it has become quitefree from this wintry encumbrance, numerous detached masses come up withevery flood-tide. It was the approach of one of these floes t
hat calledforth Stanley's remark.

  The young man replied to it by springing towards the canoe, in which hiscompanion was already seated. Throwing the dead bird into it, hestooped, and gave the light bark a powerful shove into the stream,exclaiming, as he did so, "There, strike out, you've no time to lose,and I'll go round by the woods."

  There was indeed no time to lose. The huge mass of ice was closingrapidly into the mouth of the creek, and narrowing the only passagethrough which the canoe could escape into the open water of the riverbeyond. Stanley might, indeed, drag his canoe up the bank, if sodisposed, and reach home by a circuitous walk through the woods; but bydoing so he would lose much time, and be under the necessity of carryinghis gun, blanket, tin kettle, and the goose, on his back. His broadshoulders were admirably adapted for such a burden, but he preferred thecanoe to the woods on the present occasion. Besides, the only risk heran was that of getting his canoe crushed to pieces. So, plunging hispaddle vigorously in the water, he shot through the lessening channellike an arrow, and swept out on the bosom of the broad river just as theice closed with a crash upon the shore and ground itself to powder onthe rocks.

  "Well done!" shouted Frank, with a wave of his cap, as he witnessed thesuccess of his friend's exploit.

  "All right," replied Stanley, glancing over his shoulder.

  In another moment the canoe disappeared behind a group of willows thatgrew on the point at the river's mouth, and the young man was leftalone. For a few minutes he stood contemplating the point behind whichhis companion had disappeared; then giving a hasty glance at the primingof his rifle, he threw it across his shoulder, and striding rapidly upthe bank, was soon lost to view amid the luxuriant undergrowth of theforest.