CHAPTER TEN.

  ARCHIE AND LITTLE BILL DO WONDERS.

  We change the scene now to the margin of a small lake embosomed like agem in the great wilderness of the Far North.

  It is autumn. The sun is bright, the air is calm and clear. There is aspecies of warm haze which, paradoxically, does not seem to interferewith the clearness, and a faint zephyr which appears rather to emphasisethan break the calm. It sends a soft cat's-paw now and then acrossparts of the lake, and thus, by contrast, brings into greater prominencethe bright reflection of trees and cloudland mirrored in its depths.Instead of being the proverbial "dead" calm, it is, if we may so put it,rather a lively, cheerful calm.

  The liveliness of it is vastly increased by hundreds of water-fowl,which disport themselves on the surface of the lake, as if coquettingwith their own reflections, or whistle round its margin while busy onthe feeding-grounds.

  Myriads of mosquitoes were wont there to murmur their maddening careerin search of blood, but, happily, at the period we write of, anincidental and premonitory night-frost had relegated these to the gravesof their forefathers, or to the mansions of Hiberna--we know not, andcare not, which.

  We have styled the lake a "little" one, but we must remind the readerthat we use the expression in an American sense, and that where lakesare two and three hundred miles long, a little one can well afford to betwenty or thirty miles in diameter, with, perchance, a boundlesshorizon. The lake in question, however, was really a little one--notmore than two miles in length or breadth, with the opposite shore quitevisible, and a number of islets of various sizes on its bosom--all moreor less wooded, and all, more rather than less, the temporary homes ofinnumerable wild-fowl, among which were noisy little gulls with purewhite bodies and bright red legs and bills.

  On the morning in question--for the sun was not yet much above thehorizon--a little birch-bark canoe might have been seen to glidenoiselessly from a bed of rushes, and proceed quietly, yet swiftly,along the outer margin of the bed.

  The bow-paddle was wielded by a stout boy with fair curly hair. Anotherboy, of gentle mien and sickly aspect, sat in the stern and steered.

  "Little Bill," said the stout boy in a low voice, "you're too light.This will never do."

  "Archie," returned the other with a languid smile, "I can't help it, youknow--at least not in a hurry. In course of time, if I eat frightfully,I may grow heavier, but just now there's no remedy except the old one ofa stone."

  "That's true, Little Bill," responded Archie with a perplexed look, ashe glanced inquiringly along the shore; "nevertheless, if thought couldmake you heavier, you'd soon be all right, for you're a powerfulthinker. The old remedy, you see, is not available, for this side ofthe lake is low and swampy. I don't see a single stone anywhere."

  "Never mind, get along; we'll come to one soon, I dare say," said theother, dipping his paddle more briskly over the side.

  The point which troubled Archie Sinclair was the difference in weightbetween himself and his invalid brother, which, as he occupied the bow,resulted in the stern of the light craft being raised much too high outof the water. Of course this could have been remedied by their changingplaces, but that would have thrown the heavier work of the bow-paddle onthe invalid, who happened also to be the better steersman of the two. Alarge stone placed in the stern would have been a simple and effectiveremedy, but, as we have seen, no large stone was procurable just then.

  "It didn't much matter in the clumsy wooden things at Red River," saidArchie, "but this egg-shell of Okematan's is very different. Ho!there's one at last," he continued with animation as they rounded apoint of land, and opened up a small bay, on the margin of which therewere plenty of pebbles, and some large water-worn stones.

  One of these having been placed in the stern of the canoe, and thebalance thus rectified, the voyage was continued.

  "Don't you think that breakfast on one of these islets would be nice?"said Billie.

  "Just the very thing that was in my mind, Little Bill," answered hisbrother.

  It was a curious peculiarity in this sturdy youth, that whatever hisinvalid brother wished, he immediately wished also. Similarly, whenBillie didn't desire anything, Archie did not desire it. In shortBillie's opinion was Archie's opinion, and Billie's will was Archie'slaw. Not that Archie had no will or opinion of his own. On thecontrary, he was quite sufficiently gifted in that way, but his love andprofound pity for the poor and almost helpless invalid were such that inregard to him he had sunk his own will entirely. As to opinions--well,he did differ from him occasionally, but he did it mildly, and with anopenness to conviction which was almost enviable. He called him Bill,Billie, or Little Bill, according to fancy at the moment.

  Poor boys! The sudden death of both parents had been a terrible blow tothem, and had intensified the tenderness with which the elder hadconstituted himself the guardian of the younger.

  When the Scotch settlers were banished from the colony, pity, as well asfriendship for their deceased parents, induced the Davidson family toadopt the boys, and now, in exile, they were out hunting by themselvesto aid in replenishing the general store of provisions.

  It need scarcely be said that at this period of the year the exiledcolonists were not subjected to severe hardships, for the air was alivewith wild-fowl returning south from their breeding-grounds, and therivers and lakes were swarming with fish, many of them of excellentquality.

  "This will do--won't it?" said Archie, pointing with his paddle to anislet about a hundred yards in diameter.

  "Yes, famously," responded Little Bill, as he steered towards a shelvingrock which formed a convenient landing-place.

  The trees and shrubs covered the islet to the water's edge with densefoliage, that glowed with all the gorgeous colouring for which NorthAmerican woods in autumn are celebrated. An open grassy space justbeyond the landing-place seemed to have been formed by nature for theexpress purpose of accommodating picnic parties.

  "Nothing could have been better," said Archie, drawing up the bow of thecanoe, and stooping to lift his brother out.

  "I think I'll try to walk--it's such a short bit," said Billie.

  "D'ye think so? well, I've no doubt you can do it, Little Bill, foryou've got a brave spirit of your own, but there's a wet bit o' mossyou'll have to cross which you mayn't have noticed. Would you like tobe lifted over that, and so keep your moccasins dry?"

  "Archie, you're a humbug. You're always trying to make me give youneedless trouble."

  "Well, have it your own way, Little Bill. I'll help you to walk up."

  "No, carry me," said Billie, stretching out his arms; "I've changed mymind."

  "I will, if you prefer it, Little Bill," said Archie, lifting hisbrother in his strong arms and setting him down on the convenient spotbefore referred to.

  Billie was not altogether helpless. He could stand on his weak legs andeven walk a little without support, but to tramp through the woods, orclamber up a hill, was to him an absolute impossibility. He had tocontent himself with enjoyments of a milder type. And, to do himjustice, he seemed to have no difficulty in doing so. Perhaps he owedit to his mother, who had been a singularly contented woman and hadtaught Billie from his earliest years the truth that, "contentment, withgodliness, is great gain." Billie did not announce his belief in thistruth, but he proclaimed it unwittingly by the more powerful force ofexample.

  Breakfast is a pleasant meal at any time if the operator be hungry, butwho shall describe the delights of breakfast when eaten in company withseveral thousand wild-fowl, in a romantic wilderness with fresh airladen with the perfumes of the vegetable kingdom encircling the person;the glorious sunshine dazzling the eyes; the sweet songs of animatednature thrilling the ears, and the gentle solicitations of an expectantappetite craving within? Words are wasted in such an effort. We feelconstrained to leave it--as we have not seldom left many a thing beforenow--to the reader's more or less vivid imagination.

  A blazing fire of pine-logs boil
ed two tin kettles and roasted two fatwild-ducks. In one of the kettles Archie compounded and stirredrobbiboo--of which, perhaps, the less said the better. In the other,Billie infused a small quantity of tea. The roasting ducks--split open,impaled on sticks and set up before the fire--looked after themselvestill they began to burn, when they were turned by Archie and againneglected for a few minutes.

  It was a glorious meal in all respects, and even Billie, whose appetitewas moderately strong, enjoyed it immensely--none the less that he hadasked a blessing on it before beginning, and all the more that hesympathised fully with his brother in his possession of an amazing--ashamelessly robust--capacity for food.

  "Now, we'll go to work," remarked Archie, wiping his mouth with a sighof contentment, (he had nothing else to wipe it with!) after finishingthe last spoonful of robbiboo, the last limb of duck and the last mug oftea.

  Such a remark at such a period in the entertainment caused Billie tolaugh.

  "Why, Archie, you've been at work this half-hour, and there's nothingleft to go to work upon now."

  "You know quite well, Little Bill, that I refer to the _day's_ work.What is it to be? Provisions must be got if the camp is not to starve,and you and I are bound to do our share. Shall we go to Willow Pointand shoot ducks and geese, or cross the lake and trawl for fish?"

  "Both," answered the invalid with decision. "We'll do both. We willpaddle to Willow Point, and try for jack-fish on the way."

  "Just so--the very thing, Little Bill. Are you ready to start?"

  Billie professed himself quite ready. Archie took him on his back,replaced him in the stern of the canoe in company with the big stone,and then stepped gently into his own place at the bow, where a commontrading gun, with the old-fashioned flint lock and single barrel, restedagainst the gunwale. Pushing off they soon left Breakfast-isle farbehind them, and crept swiftly along by the margin of the reeds.

  On the way Billie cast out his fishing-line. It was a strong cod-line,with a great cod-hook attached and a lump of fat pork on it; for Archie,in the fervour of hope coupled with piscatorial ignorance and a sanguinedisposition, had strongly advised his brother to err, if err he must, onthe safe side, and be prepared for anything, from a great lake-serpentto a fresh-water whale.

  No civilised fish would have deigned to give a second thought to theobvious deception which a mass of indigestible pork presented, but fishof the backwoods--especially in the early years of this century--werenot suspicious. An enormous pike, or "jack-fish," coveted that bait andtook it. Not only so, but it took the great cod-hook and ten inches ofthe line besides.

  A shout such as Billie had not uttered for many months announced thefact.

  "Hi! hold on, Archie! Back water! I say, I'd believe I had hanked thebottom if it didn't tug in such a lively way!"

  "Pay out line, Little Bill!" cried the other, looking over his shoulderwith blazing eyes, but unable to render any assistance owing to thesmall size and crank nature of the canoe. "Stay, I'll turn about andbecome steersman, while you play the--whew! It's a whale! I say--easeoff!"

  "Ease off!" cried Billie in desperation; "how can I ease off, with onlya few yards o' the line left?"

  "Pitch the reel back to me then. I'll manage it!" cried Archie, who hadconverted the bow of the canoe into the stern--both ends being alike--bythe simple process of turning himself round and sitting with his facetowards his brother.

  What Archie had styled the reel was simply a piece of stick with theline wound round it. His brother pitched it to him with one hand whilethe desperate jerking of the other--indeed of his whole body--told atonce of the size and the impatience of the fish.

  Unwinding the line in haste, Archie fastened the extreme end of it totwo spare paddles and flung them overboard.

  "Now, Little Bill," he said; "you may let him have his head, and if youcan't hold on without risking the line just let it go."

  As he spoke the captive made another rush--not very frantic indeed, forthe pike is a sluggish creature in all waters--but with a steadypersistency that meant resolution of purpose. In a few seconds ourinvalid was compelled to let go, and, the line tightening, the paddlesdisappeared with a jerk.

  Soon after they reappeared, and the boys paddled towards them with acheer, picked them up and the battle was renewed.

  It would be tedious to recount all the incidents of that fight. We canonly say that after a struggle that lasted an hour--according to theyounger brother; two hours and a half, according to the elder--a pike ofabout four feet in length was hauled into the canoe.

  "That's enough of fishing for one day," remarked Billie, wiping hisheated brow.

  "Quite enough," assented the other; "shall we make for Willow Point now,Little Bill?"

  "Yes. We will try the shooting now."

  In accordance with this plan, the direction of the canoe was changed,and, early in the afternoon, the young hunters found themselvesalongside of a low point of rocks which stretched well out into thelake, leaving a deep bay on either side. The extreme end of the pointconsisted of naked rock, but the greater part of it was covered with adense under-growth of low willow bushes.

  Here they disembarked, and Archie, as before, carried his brother to thehighest part of the low point, where a piece of green sward, free frombushes, formed an attractive resting-place.

  "Sit there now, Billie, till I get some brush, an' make yourself usefulby cutting out goose heads. See, here are some branches o' the rightsort ready to hand. No doubt some Redskins have been at work herebefore us."

  He picked up some pieces of wood which Nature had formed more or less toresemble the heads and necks of geese. By a very slight use of theknife Billie converted these into excellent portraits. When he hadfinished half-a-dozen of them, his brother had cut and brought to thespot a number of bushy branches about two or three feet high. Thesewere soon stuck into the ground in a small circle so as to resemble agrowing bush, behind, or, rather, in the midst of which, they couldeffectually conceal themselves by crouching.

  While this was being constructed the elder brother went down to the edgeof the water and made half-a-dozen mud-heaps well within gunshot, whichwhen the artificial heads and necks were attached to them, formed suchexact counterparts of geese that the wild birds might well be excusedfor mistaking them for friends. Indeed tyros at this work have beenknown to fire at such decoys believing them to be genuine birds.

  Even while they were thus engaged one and another flock of ducks andgeese passed them on their way to warmer climes; of course sheering offas they passed. But when the arrangement was completed, and the twoboys, crouching low, gazed at the horizon with eager looks, the wildbirds no longer avoided the spot. On the contrary, seeing the decoys,they rather inclined to pass close to the place.

  In flying down a river, or along the margin of a lake, wild birds maydiverge a little to follow the sinuosities of bank or shore, but theywill not get out of the way of a projecting promontory; they rather makea short cut by crossing over it.

  The young hunters had not to wait long.

  "There's a flock of geese coming," said Archie in a whisper, though thebirds were at the moment some miles away. "Take the first shot, LittleBill."

  They had only one gun between them.

  "I don't like to," said Billie, "that thing gave me such an awful kicklast time, and I can't stand it now."

  "O! there's no fear, I put in only a small charge of powder-and-shot, onpurpose. It won't kick hard this time. Try."

  "Well, I'll try," said Billie, taking the gun.

  "Aim well in advance, Bill. They fly fast, and primin' gets dampsometimes."

  A flock of small geese was approaching. The boys became dumb, but theyhad remarkably speaking eyes.

  Animated by curiosity, the flock descended to observe the decoys. Howoften that feeling of curiosity has proved fatal--not only to featheredgeese!

  Little Bill raised his gun. Puff! went the priming. Bang! went thecharge. One of the birds, describing
a beautiful curve, fell withbursting violence on the ground.

  "Well done, Billie," cried his brother enthusiastically as he leapedover the sheltering brush and ran to secure the prize. "A few like thatwill give a supper to the whole camp. Now, then," he added onreturning, "you'll try again."

  "No, Archie. It's your turn now--and the thing _did_ give me atremendous kick."

  "But I will put in still less powder this time, Little Bill, and lessshot too, so you'll have to be careful of your aim. See, there'sanother flock coming--there, take it, and down with you. I do believethey are big fellows."

  Thus encouraged, Billie took the gun and crouched low. His brother wasright. It was a flock of the great grey geese of Canada which nowapproached. The hearts of both boys beat high, for they were not onlyactuated by what is termed the sporting tendency, but by the desire tocontribute their fair share to the general larder of their friends, whowere encamped a considerable distance off at the other end of the lake.

  "Okematan will open his eyes if we take back a goose or two like these;why, they are swans almost!" whispered Archie, as the birds approachedin the form of an angle. "Take the big fat one on the left--the one nowsquintin' down at the decoys."

  Billie obeyed, and fired. The result was, in a manner, threefold.First, the boy's aim was so good that the big fat fellow dropped like astone not three yards from their position. Second, the hitherto silentand symmetrically arranged flock went into dire confusion and sheeredoff in trumpeting convulsions; and, third, a scattering shot, havingfound its billet in the head of another goose immediately behind thefirst one, caused it to plunge right into the camp, straight for thehead of Little Bill. Archie, ignorant of this, was in the very act ofleaping over the brush to secure the first goose, and had fortunatelygot in front of his brother at the right moment when the second goosecaught him on the shoulder and knocked him into the poor invalid's arms.

  He was stunned at first, and rose in a few moments in some degree ofmental confusion; but he was not much the worse for the accident andgreatly rejoiced at his fortunate escape, as well as the splendidshooting, of Little Bill.

  It must not be supposed that the brothers continued to shoot at thisrate. Comparatively few flocks of geese passed over Willow Point thatday, but numerous flocks of wild-ducks did, and before evening had putan end to their work, they had secured a fair canoe-load of game.

  That night they lighted their camp-fire among the neighbouring willows;feasted luxuriously on part of the day's hunt; lay down side by sideunder one blanket, with the upturned canoe partially covering them;dreamed at first of Okematan, gazing in wonder at their load, and,afterwards, of being knocked head over heels by an enormous grey goosewhose persistent pugnacity was only equalled by its strange incapacityto achieve its murderous ends.

  Ultimately Oblivion came to their rescue, and the young hunters fellinto a dreamless slumber, with the smoking camp-fire sending anoccasional gleam of ruddy light on their recumbent forms, and the darksky with its hosts of twinkling stars serving for a gorgeous canopy.