Adrift in the Ice-Fields Part 9

He seemed to be little hurt, however; for, getting to his feet, he walked rapidly away in the direction of the sea ice, followed by the stranger, who did not attempt to use the long gun which he carried with him even when the bird took wing and flew heavily between the ice-houses on the East Bar, where a long shot from La Salle's gun brought him down dead. La Salle brought in the bird, and while reloading his gun, the stranger came up and claimed it as his.

He was a tall, lean, sharp-featured man, with long, lank hair, a dark complexion, and large lack-l.u.s.ter eyes, imbedded in cavernous hollows.

His gun was not loaded, nor did he wear either shot-bag or powder-horn; and his weapon, an ancient Highland Scotch "fusee" changed to percussion, seemed as worn out and dilapidated as the owner.

"Gie me my guse, mon, and dinna delay me, for I hae much to do the day, and I munna be hindered in my mission," was the strange salutation of the original, as he leaned upon his gun at the side of the boat.

"You are welcome to your goose, friend, although I fear that you would have had a long chase, if the Baby there had not put in her word in the matter. Here is your bird, sir;" and La Salle handed the body to the unknown, who, after examining it closely, sighed heavily, and replied,--

"It's a braw bird, but it's nae the king o' the geese."

"The king of the geese, friend? What do you mean?" said Kennedy, sharply.

"O, naething; that is, naething to ye, sirs; but to me, O yes, to me everything. Ah," said he, plaintively, "how mony days hae I sat through storm, and frost, and sleet! how mony nights hae I watched in the still moonlight, amang the reedy creeks! how mony times I hae weized a slug through a bird a'maist amang the clouds! but I hae had a' my labor in vain, in vain."

"But how do you know that you have not already shot the king of the geese?" said La Salle, anxious to investigate the peculiar monomania of this poor lunatic; for such, indeed, he evidently was.

"Why, mon," said he, evidently surprised at the absurdity of the question, "by his croun, of course. The king has ae braw croun o' white an black fedders, an' I'se reckon ye's never seen a guse like that ava'--hae ye now?" he asked, anxiously.

"I have never seen any such bird," said La Salle; "but why do you care so much about shooting this rare bird?"

"Weel, I'll tell ye, sin ye were kin' till me, an' did na keep the guse fra' me. Ye must promise me that ye will na try to kill it wi' your ain hands, for I must kill it mysel'."

"We promise," said La Salle, encouragingly, while Kennedy gave a half-pitying nod of the head.

"Weel, when I was young I cared for naething but the gun, an' mony a beating I got for wark negleckit, an' schule-days wasted in the woods, or on the ice. As I grew older I cared more an' more for huntin', an'

although I killed mair than ony three in the settlement, I was never satisfied. Ance I sat here on a could day in April; the ice had gane off the bar, but the flats were yet covered, and I knew that until the win'

changed the ice would not be carried off.

"Sae, as I sat an' saw the breakers roolin' in an' breakin' an' heavin'

the outer ice, I saw mony flecks pa.s.s under the lee of the Governor's Island, an' then I grew mad like, an' swore an' cursed at my ill luck.

"'Ay, my lad, but you're right;' an' turnin', I saw an ould man wi' dark eyes an' a coat of black furs stannin' beside me.

"'I've seen i' the Bible,' said I, 'that man was gi'en "dominion ower the beasts o' the earth an' the fowls o' the air," but I canna do as I'd wush wi' thae cursed geese ower there.'

"'Verra richt; ye're verra richt, young man,' said he. 'What wud ye gie to be able to kill as mony fowl as ye list, an' never miss ava?'

"It seemed as I were mad at th' thocht. 'I'd gie my saul,' said I.

"'Well, hae your wish, laddie,' said he; 'it's a sma' penny fee for so dear a bargain;' and, turnin', I fand mysel' alone, an' not a saul upon the ice, far or near. Weel, that day I killed birds until I had nae mair pouther an' grit-shot; an' ilka day I went I had the like luck; but my min' was ill at ease, an' I grew sad, an' dared na gae to prayers, or the kirk; for then h.e.l.l seemed to yawn under me. At last they said I was mad, an' I went awee tae th' 'sylum yonder i' th' town, an' then I gat some sleep; an' ane nicht I saw in a dream a woman a' in white, an' she laid her cool, moist han' on my hot forehead, an' tauld me she would save me yet. 'It was th' auld enemy that ye forgathered wi' on th' ice, an' ye are his until ye can kill th' king o' th' geese; an' then ye ken whaever carries his croun o' black an' white feathers can unnerstand th'

language o' all fowl, an', wha' is more, call them to himsel', sae that he canna' fail to hae his wull o' them. Then, laddie, ye wull hae earned yoursel' th' penny-fee for whilk ye hae perilled your saul.

"'But,' said she, 'my ain bairn, when ye hae won the croun, use it na'

at all, though a' the fiends fra' h.e.l.l tempted ye, but carry it to the kirkyard at mirk midnight; an' when ye hae cannily lichted a bit bleeze, burn the king's croun, an' say wha' I shall tell ye. "I gie back more than I hae taken, an' I rest on Christ's smercy;" an' then shall ye be safe an' happy if ye fail na' to be constant in gude warks.'

"Then, sirs, the vision faded, an' I woke calmer an' happier than for many a lang day; an' a few days after, they aye sent me hame, but the folk say I've a bit bee in my bannet yet. But sin' that time, I hae hunted a' I can. I get mony birds, an'," lowering his voice, "yesterday I killed thretty-seven."

A long whistle from the astonished Kennedy broke up the conference, and the offended lunatic walked angrily away.

"He hasn't had a gun until to-day, to my certain knowledge," said Kennedy; "and I saw him yesterday afternoon taking aim at a goose that had lighted among his decoys, along the helve of his axe."

"Well, well! No one believed him, of course; but, for Heaven's sake, when you express incredulity again, wait until the lie is finished, if I am in the party!" grumbled La Salle.

"Well, never mind; he got through with the best part of it; and the great wonder is, how a distempered brain could imagine all that impossible but well-connected delusion."

"Kennedy," said La Salle, with unusual gravity, "how can we decide that it is all a delusion? Few men, indeed, have claimed to see the devil, to whom they sell themselves daily for trifles lighter than the hunter's meed of unrivaled success; and who can say that the story of yonder madman is more or less than the fruit of the idle habits and unbridled temper which burned up happiness, and consumed his reason? There are few who go mad who would have done so had they at the first governed and denied themselves, and been content to enjoy in reason the benefits of the great Giver."

"There is much that is true in what you say, and I've got a piece in this very Tribune which bears on that point. I'll read it to you. Hang me if ever I saw the like! Where's Davies' ice-house? Is there a fog coming up, or am I dizzy?"

"O, that's nothing," said La Salle, laughing. "You're only going blind--snow-blind, I mean. You know that Kane tells about his people using goggles to prevent snow-blindness; and you left yours off yesterday and to-day."

"Well, it's a curious thing. I can barely see you now; and I know I could not find my way home to save my life. But what shall I do? Will it last long?"

"If I had but a handkerchief full of clay, I could cure it in half an hour; but lie down in the straw, and get your head under the half-deck, where you can see neither sun nor snow, and I think you will rest yourself enough to see pretty well by the time we want to go home."

But Kennedy was fated to lie in impatient helplessness during the remainder of the afternoon. Several fine flocks came in to the decoys; and La Salle, using the double-barrel first, and firing the huge duck-gun at long range, killed three, and sometimes four, out of each flock, while Kennedy groaned in anguish of spirit. At last he could bear it no longer.

"Keep close, Kennedy; there's another flock coming, and the finest I've seen this year. There's twenty at the least, and they're coming right in."

"Give me my gun, Charley. I can't see much, but I can a little, and I can fire where I hear them call. This is my last day; for Patrick is coming out to-night with the boys, and I go in with them. Where are the birds now?"

"Right dead to leeward. Ah-h-huk! ah-h-huk! Here they come, low down, and ready to light. Ah-h-huk! ah-h-huk! Now, Kennedy, can you see them?"

"Yes; that is, I see something like flies in a black gauze net. Are those geese?"

"Yes, and close to us; so up and fire."

Bang! bang! crashed the heavy double-barrel, with both reports nearly blended in one, and Kennedy was driven back by the recoil against the rear top board of the boat. Nearly bursting with laughter, La Salle "lined" the flock as they swung off, killing and wounding three.

"Are you hurt, Kennedy?" he inquired, jumping out of the boat to catch the wounded birds.

"Dot buch, but by dose bleeds a little, a'd I've cut by lip. How baddy have I killed, Charley? for I cad see dothing," inquired the victim, anxiously.

"One, two, three, four, FIVE, by jingo! Faith, you've beat the crowd, so far, this spring, and when you were stone-blind, almost, at that. Well, it's pretty dark, and we'd better be getting home now, I think."

The geese were picked up, and, with the others,--about twenty in all,--were loaded upon the "taboggin," which the two hunters with some difficulty drew through the drifts to the house where, on their arrival, they found that Pat had arrived from the city with some small stores, papers, letters, &c., but the boys had not accompanied him.

"They'll be out on skates wid Carlo and his slid on Monday," he said.

"Now, Misther Kennedy, whiniver you're ready, ye'll find me to the fore in the kitchen."

"Mr. Kennedy mustn't go until he gives us a story in his turn. Now the moon rises to-night, at about nine o'clock, and it will be much pleasanter and safer on the ice by moonlight. What say you, Pat?"

"Faith, I'm agreeable, and I'd a little rather, to tell the truth; for there's an ugly bit of road across the Pint there."

"Well, Kennedy will have time to eat supper, and then we'll have his story, when it will be time for us to go to bed, and just right for him to start for town."

"Or, in other words," said La Salle, "it will be 'time for honest folk to be abed, and rogues on the road.'"

All sat down to supper, including Pat, to whom a plate of roast goose and two or three cups of strong, hot, black tea were very refreshing after his ten-mile drive; and then, after the little preparations for the next day's shooting, and Kennedy's little arrangements for his departure, the little group gathered round the blazing hearth, and Kennedy, with some little hesitation, began the story of