Adrift in the Ice-Fields Part 12

"Well, let's take an observation, boys, and then we'll set off."

And, stopping, the party turned to survey a spectacle truly annoying to any true sportsman, whatever may be his views on the temperance question.

Advancing in their rear came a truck-sled, loaded with what, although evidently a miscellaneous freight, was largely composed of liquor; for a goodly ale-keg formed the driver's seat, a bottle-hamper the pinnacle of the load, and a half dozen young men, who were perched wherever a seat presented itself, filled the air with loud, and oft-repeated shouts and roaring songs, whose inspiration could plainly be traced to certain bottles, jugs, and flasks, with which each in turn "took an observation"

of the heavens, at about every other hundred yards. An expression of disgust on La Salle's deeply-tanned face gradually gave way to resignation, and then a well-founded hope irradiated his features; a new movement of the crowd attracted his attention.

"Well, boys," he exclaimed, "you're in luck to have such a gang to come out with, and you may count on having little or no sport to-day and to-morrow; but they'll have to go in, in three days at farthest."

"Why so?" asked the boys, in a breath.

"Because their rum won't last them more than forty-eight hours, especially with the amateur aid they'll get from the driver; and twelve hours after that event takes place, they'll be in town again. But come, they are getting near us, and are loading their guns; so let's leave before the vicinage is dangerous."

"Why, Charley," said Waring, in astonishment, "there's no danger. Those fellows wouldn't shoot at us. I know them."

"And so do I, my dear fellow; and that's just the reason I want to get out of the way. If I didn't know what drunken men will do in the way of 'sporting casualties,' or felt certain that their object was to shoot us, I should feel perfectly easy on the subject;" and setting off at full speed, followed by Waring and the sledge, La Salle led the way to the ice-houses, which they reached about an hour before sunset.

Drawing up by the boat, La Salle examined the load of the day, and from it took a little case made of a candle-box with stout hinges and a padlock. He opened it, and found, as he had ordered, a "Crimean cooking-lantern," with spring candlestick and a pound of candles, a small tin canister of coffee, another of sugar, some pilot bread, and several boxes of sardines. Taking all but two of the latter from the box, he relocked it, and carefully removing the matted straw in the stern of his boat, placed the box under the decking, and replacing the compressed straw, effectually hid it from sight.

"We can now have a lunch, with a hot cup of coffee, whenever we please, and you will find some weather even yet when it will be very welcome.

Come, let us go home to-night, and get ready for to-morrow's _charivari_, for noise will not be wanting, although game may;" and adding his brent to the load, La Salle covered his boat, and, joined by Davies and Creamer, who greeted the boys warmly, all went up to their welcome, if somewhat narrow, quarters.

After tea, which boasted of fried bacon and eggs, the usual circle was formed, and Mr. Davies, being called upon to entertain the company, said that he was "not much of a story-teller, but had learned some facts relating to a terrible political tumult, which took place years ago, but was still spoken of everywhere on the island as the great 'Belfast Riot.' I shall term it, unless some one offers a better name, the most lively specimen we ever had of

"A CONTESTED ELECTION.

"It need hardly be said, in this company, that an election among us is a far more exciting occasion than among our less-favored American neighbors, who ignore the superior advantages of voting _viva voce_, and adopt the less manly and un.o.btrusive medium of the ballot.

"Why, gentlemen, I venture to say, that our little capital town of C., with its thousand votes, presents more stir, makes more noise, drinks more whiskey, and is the arena of more fistic science and club play, during an ordinary election, than any city in New England, of four times the population, during a presidential struggle. The open polling-booths in the heart of the city surrounded by crowds of intelligent (and highly-excited) voters; the narrow gangways crowded, rain or shine, by those immediately claiming the right of suffrage; the narrow precincts of the sheriff's court, the sublime majesty of that important officer; the ineffable serenity of the city clerk; the various bearings of the candidates or their representatives; the frantic efforts of a few uniformed police to keep order; the evident and good-natured determination of the crowd that the aforesaid officials shall 'have their hands full;' the loud voices and sharp questions of the challengers and their victim; the dainty bits of family history made public property; the overbearing insolence of the old lawyers, and the overweening impudence of the young ones; the open taverns; the rival carriages for the accommodation of doubtful, drunken, and lazy voters, together with the lively little incidents which diversify the picture as the culminating glory of these various provocative elements,--form a picture which it hath not entered into the heart of the average American citizen to conceive of.

"But, however lively the picture, an election in these degenerate later days is but a tame affair compared with those which took place during my first years of labor in political matters. As all know, the island was given away on one day to certain individuals, on conditions of which nothing more may be said here than that one was, that a certain number of settlers were to be placed on each estate within a given number of years. Accordingly, from almost every section of the British Isles, the proprietors sought out such emigrants as could most easily be procured.

"The result was, that we still have settlements in close proximity to each other, whose peoples use different languages in daily conversation, who vary radically in religious belief, have few natural traits in common, and are almost, if not altogether, 'natural enemies' each to each. Thus we have a settlement of Protestant Highland Scotch close by a large estate peopled with Monaghan or Kilkenny Irish Catholics; and perhaps a little farther on is a hamlet of Low-landers, or a village of thrifty English folk.

"But in those days these distinctions were yet more marked, and the feuds of Orange and Ribbon-man, Scotch and Irish, Englishman and French Acadian, had not then given way before the softening and concealing hand of 'Time, the great leveler;' and so some twenty years ago, during a close contest between the then rising liberal party and the conservatives, a riot took place near the polling-booth in the Highland Scotch settlement of Belfast. All the combined strength of both parties was present; the canva.s.sing had been of the most thorough nature, and all the antipathies of race and religion appealed to for electioneering purposes.

"It is said that the Catholics went there expecting a fight, each armed with a well-balanced, tough _shillelagh_, and that they made a general attack on the Scotch. At all events, it is certain that the larger number of the latter had to betake themselves to the nearest available weapon, and that many were cut and bruised by the skilfully-handled weapons of the active Irish cudgel-players. One Scotchman, however (a fellow of unusual stature), seized a fence-rail, and, by his single arm, stayed the tide of flight in his part of the fray. Almost frantic with apprehension, rage, and the desire for revenge, he wielded his ponderous weapon as if it were an ordinary club, striking such tremendous blows that tradition has it that not one of a half-score of the best and bravest of the Irish leaders survived the effects of those terrible and crushing blows. Profiting by his prowess, the Scotch procured the heavy stakes of their sleds, tough poles, pieces of firewood, and similar ponderous weapons, and, headed by the hero of the day, made a charge, returning with terrible severity the comparatively slight damage inflicted by the light cudgels of the Irish.

"The details of that day of blood--how the fray began, and between whom; the varying records of its progress as victory inclined first to one side, and then to the other; the number of the killed and wounded, and the names of the fallen--have never been generally known, and probably never will be; for many of the princ.i.p.al actors in that savage drama have pa.s.sed away 'into the dread unknown.'

"But it is still commonly believed, and so reported, that over a score of the Irish were killed on the field, or died of their wounds; that no Scotchman perished; that the field where the deadliest part of the work was done became accursed, and has lain barren to this day; and that the leader of the Scotch became insane with the memory of his own terrible prowess.

"Among those who have reason to remember that dreadful affair, however, may be numbered C." (Here the narrator named an influential and wealthy business man.) "He was travelling in that section, and being ignorant of what had taken place, stopped at a country town to bait his horse, and warm and refresh himself. Entering, he found the reception-room filled with Irish, whose harsh features were inflamed with varied pa.s.sions, while the persons of many bore marks of recent injury. No one replied to his friendly greeting, and their whole conversation was carried on in Erse, although every intonation and gesture was replete with pa.s.sion.

Suddenly he saw the landlady beckoning him out of the room, and, rising, he approached her as if to give directions about his horse.

"Trembling with agitation, she addressed him:--

"'O, Mr. C., for the love of Heaven, run to your sleigh, and leave at once, or your life isn't worth an hour's purchase!'

"Then, in a few words, she gave him some idea of the day's events, and taking the measure of oats provided, Mr. C. pa.s.sed on through his enemies to the shed, where, beside a number of rude country sledges, stood his own fleet horse and light cutter. Taking the bells off his horse, he backed him out of the shed, and was ready for flight. On the nearest sledge was bound a long, oblong parcel, covered with a rug.

Curiosity proved stronger than fear, and lifting a loose corner of the scanty covering, Mr. C. found himself face to face with a corpse!

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Springing into his sleigh, he put his horse to his utmost speed, and when day dawned was a score of miles from the scene of his unexpected danger and appalling night adventure."

CHAPTER VII.

A CHANGE IN THE WEATHER.--BREAKING UP OF THE ICE.--JIM MOUNTAIN'S FIGHT WITH THE DEVIL.

The boys awoke somewhat disappointed the next morning, for the heavy rain was falling, and the wind blew hard from the south-east, so that no one in his senses would think of facing such discomfort for the sake of sport.

"Don't look blue, George," said La Salle; "we've enough to do to prepare for the open water, which this gale will probably lead up to the outer edge of the bar, at least. There's the float to be painted and fitted, and the floating decoys to be put in order; and while I use the white paint, you and Regnie must rope and repair the decoys."

Accordingly the four sought the barn, whither Ben and Creamer had preceded them on a similar errand. La Salle's boat was a flat-bottomed "sculling-float," twelve feet long by three feet beam, and ten inches deep, with a hole through the stern-board, through which, with a short, crooked oar, a man could silently propel himself within shot of a flock of fowl. Davies's boat aimed at the same end in another way, being a large side-wheel paddle-boat, propelled by cranks, for two persons. Both boats were painted white, so as to be indistinguishable from the floating ice at a little distance. Besides these two, there were a double boat with centre paddle-wheel, and a side-wheel worked by the feet on the velocipede principle, belonging on the island.

The forenoon was spent as proposed, and as the bad weather still held, a target was set up for practice with the rifle, and many excellent shots were made from the great door of the barn. At last, however, the impatience of the party overcame all fears of exposure, and, donning their water-proof clothing, all went down to the East Bar to watch its effect on the ice.

The huge floe had given way at last, and broken into many floating islets of varied size, had become a scene of life and animation, in striking contrast to its late icy desolation. In every direction geese, singly and in flocks, fed along the edges of the still immovable inner ice-fields; swam placidly among the narrow leads, or in huge bodies blackened the open pools or the projecting points of ice. Among them, too, wheeled many flocks of clamorous brent, while, from time to time, the desolate cry of the Moniac duck, or the shrill, monotonous, strident flight of the "Whistler" warned the sportsmen that new visitants were about to greet their vision.

"You will have to change your location, Risk," said Lund, who had accompanied them; "for you must shoot on the water-line, now the ice has opened."

"Davies and I go home to-morrow," answered he. "I regret to leave with such a prospect before us, but business presses; and besides, there are new dangers now which I care not to face."

"Ay, ay! you're right, Mr. Risk," said Lund; "and although I am glad to have you around me, I shall be glad this year when I see the last of you safely across the Western Bar."

"There, there, Lund," said Risk; "they're young, smart, have good boats, and, what is more, know well how to use them; and if I were less clumsy and old, I would no more fear any danger here than I would at home.

Don't frighten the young lads with your nonsense, but let us get home to supper, and, as it is our last night together, have a cosy evening in the kitchen, and a good story from Ben and Charley here."

The proposition was acceded to, and after supper, Ben, with little urging, commenced a legend of the North Sh.o.r.e, even now related by the farmers around the winter's hearth with full faith in its veracity. He termed it by its local name

"JIM MOUNTAIN'S FIGHT WITH THE DEVIL."

"Fifty years ago Jim Mountain, of Goose Creek, was as stout and jovial a young farmer of twenty-five, as there was in his section. No ship-launch frame-raising, logging-bee, or dance, was considered complete without him, and while his strength was almost equal to that of any two of his companions, his merry laugh was so infectious that even envy couldn't resist joining in, when public opinion p.r.o.nounced him 'the best man in the county.'

"He soon married the daughter of a well-to-do farmer, and then, for the first time, it appeared that his love of 'divershin' and whiskey, had grown by what it fed on, and poor Mary dreaded the approach of market-day, as he seldom returned from the shire town altogether sober, and often not until late into the next day.

"It was in vain that his blooming Mary entreated, coaxed, cried, and threatened; he never lost his temper; often, indeed, promised amendment, but did in the end about the same as usual. At last the merchant with whom he traded, a man of some little medical knowledge, finished their business interview with the following bit of advice:--

"'Jim, it's none of my business, but you are ruining your health and breaking your wife's heart. You are not one of the kind that show how much they do drink; but no man in your district can match you, and when you do get sick, I shan't expect to see you alive.'

"'An' do ye think so, then, Mr. B.?'

"'I am almost sure of it, for Long Tom Cunningham, the big ship carpenter that you've heard your father tell of, was just such a man, and the first touch of "the horrors" carried him off.'