II THE SLOOP "OTTER"
His mind awhirl with conflicting thoughts and feelings, Hugh Beaupre leftCadotte. The preceding autumn Hugh had come from Montreal to the Sault deSte. Marie. Very reluctantly his aunt had let him go to be with hisfather in the western wilderness for a year or two of that rough,adventurous life. Hugh's Scotch mother had died when he was less than ayear old, nearly sixteen years before the opening of this story. HisFrench father, a restless man of venturesome spirit, had left the childwith the mother's sister, and had taken to the woods, the then untamedwilderness of the upper Great Lakes and the country beyond. In fifteenyears he had been to Montreal to see his son but three times. During eachbrief stay, his stories of the west had been eagerly listened to by thegrowing boy. On his father's last visit to civilization, Hugh had beggedto be allowed to go back to Lake Superior with him. The elder Beaupre,thinking the lad too young, had put him off. He had consented, however,to his son's joining him at the Sault de Ste. Marie a year from thefollowing autumn, when Hugh would be sixteen.
Delayed by bad weather, the boy had arrived at the meeting place late,only to find that his father had not been seen at the Sault since hisbrief stop on his return from Montreal the year before. The disappointedlad tried to wait patiently, but the elder Beaupre did not come or sendany message. At last, word arrived that he had left the Grand Portage, atthe other end of Lake Superior, some weeks before, not to come to theSault but to go in the opposite direction to his winter trading groundwest of the lake. There was no chance for Hugh to follow, even had heknown just where his father intended to winter. By another trader goingwest and by a Northwest Company messenger, the boy sent letters, hopingthat in some manner they might reach Jean Beaupre. All winter Hugh hadremained at the Sault waiting for some reply, but none of any sort hadcome until the arrival of the strange packet he was now carrying in hishand. This message from his younger brother seemed to prove that hisfather must have received at least one of Hugh's letters. Otherwise hewould not have known that his elder son was at the Sault. But there wasno explanation of Jean Beaupre's failure to meet the boy there.
Hugh was grieved to learn of his parent's death, but he could not feelthe deep sorrow that would have overwhelmed him at the loss of anintimately known and well loved father. Jean Beaupre was almost astranger to his older son. Hugh remembered seeing him but the three timesand receiving but one letter from him. Indeed he was little more than acasual acquaintance whose tales of adventure had kindled a boy'simagination. It was scarcely possible that Hugh's grief could be deep,and, for the time being, it was overshadowed by other feelings. He hadbeen suddenly plunged, it seemed, into a strange and unexpectedadventure, which filled his mind to the exclusion of all else.
He must find some way to reach the Kaministikwia River, there to join hisnewly discovered Indian brother in a search for the wrecked bateau andits cargo of pelts. Of that half-brother Hugh had never heard before. Hecould not but feel a sense of resentment that there should be such aperson. The boy had been brought up to believe that his father had lovedhis bonny Scotch wife devotedly, and that it was his inconsolable griefat her death that had driven him to the wilderness. It seemed, however,that he must have consoled himself rather quickly with an Indian squaw.Surely the lad who had written the letter must be well grown, not manyyears younger than Hugh himself.
As he walked slowly along the river bank, Hugh turned the bark packetover and over in his hand, and wondered about the half-breed boy who wasto be his comrade in adventure. Attekonse had not spent his whole life inthe woods, that was evident. Somewhere he had received an education, hadlearned to write French readily and in a good hand. Perhaps his fatherhad taught him, thought Hugh, but quickly dismissed that suggestion. Hedoubted if the restless Jean Beaupre would have had the patience, even ifhe had had the knowledge and ability to teach his young son to writeFrench so well.
Uncertain what he ought to do next, the puzzled boy wandered along,glancing now and then at the canoes engaged in the white-fishing belowthe rapids. That daring sport had lost its interest for him. At theoutskirts of an Indian village, where he was obliged to beat off with astick a pack of snarling, wolf-like dogs, he turned and went back the wayhe had come, still pondering over the birch bark letter.
Presently he caught sight once more of Baptiste's scarlet cap. No messagefrom Cadotte had brought the simple fellow this time, merely his owncuriosity. Hugh was quite willing to answer Baptiste's questions so faras he could without betraying too much. Seated in a sheltered, sunny spoton an outcrop of rock at the river's edge, he told of his father's death.Then, suddenly, he resolved to ask the good-natured Canadian's help.
"Baptiste, I am in a difficulty. My half-brother who wrote this,"--Hughtouched the bark packet--"bids me join him at the Kaministikwia. It wasmy father's last command that I should go there and meet this Blaise orLittle Caribou, as he calls himself. We are to divide the things fatherleft for us."
"There is an inheritance then?" questioned Baptiste, interested at once.
"Nothing that amounts to much, I fancy," the lad replied with anassumption of carelessness; "some personal belongings, a few peltsperhaps. For some reason he wished Blaise and me to meet and divide them.It is a long journey for such a matter."
"Ah, but a dying father's command!" cried Baptiste. "You must not disobeythat. To disregard the wishes of the dead is a grievous sin, and wouldsurely bring you misfortune."
"True, but what can I do, Baptiste? Monsieur Cadotte doesn't feel greatlyinclined to help me. He wishes me to return to Montreal. How then am I tofind an opportunity to go to the Kaministikwia?"
Baptiste took a long, thoughtful pull at his pipe, then removed it fromhis mouth. "There is the sloop _Otter_," he suggested.
"Would Captain Bennett take me, do you think?"
"I myself go as one of the crew. To-morrow early I go to Point aux Pins.Come with me and we shall see."
"Gladly," exclaimed Hugh. "When does she sail?"
"Soon, I think. There were repairs to the hull, where she ran on therocks, but they are finished. Then there is new rigging and the painting.It will not be long until she is ready."
That night Hugh debated in his own mind whether he should tell Cadotte ofhis proposed visit with Baptiste to Point aux Pins. He decided againstmentioning it at present. He did not know what news might have come inCadotte's despatches, whether the trader was aware of the elder Beaupre'schange of allegiance. At any rate, thought the lad, it would be better tohave his passage in the _Otter_ arranged for, if he could persuade hercaptain, before saying anything more to anyone.
Early the next morning Baptiste and Hugh embarked above the rapids inBaptiste's small birch canoe. The distance to Point aux Pins was short,but paddling, even in the more sluggish channels, against the current ofthe St. Mary's River in spring flood was strenuous work, as Hugh,wielding the bow blade, soon discovered. Signs of spring were everywhere.The snow was gone, and flocks of small, migrating birds were flitting andtwittering among the trees and now and then bursting into snatches ofsong. The leaves of birches, willows and alders were beginning to unfold,the shores showing a faint mist of pale green, though here and there inthe quiet backwaters among rocks and on the north sides of islands, icestill remained.
At Point aux Pins, or Pine Point, was the Northwest Company's shipyard.In a safe and well sheltered harbor, formed by the long point that ranout into the river, the sailing vessels belonging to the company werebuilt and repaired. The sloop _Otter_, which had spent the winter there,was now anchored a little way out from shore. The repairs had beencompleted and a fresh coat of white paint was being applied to her hull.Tents and rude cabins on the sandy ground among scrubby jack pines andwillows housed the workers, and near by, waiting for the fish cleaningsand other refuse to be thrown out, a flock of gulls, gray-winged, withgleaming white heads and necks, rode the water like a fleet of littleboats. As the canoe approached, the birds, with a splashing and beatingof wings,
rose, whirled about in the air, and alighted again farther out,each, as it struck the water, poising for a moment with black-tippedwings raised and half spread.
On a stretch of sand beyond the shipyard, Baptiste and Hugh landed,stepping out, one on each side, the moment the canoe touched, lifting itfrom the water and carrying it ashore. Then they sought the master of thesloop.
Captain Bennett was personally superintending the work on his ship. Tohim Baptiste, who had been previously engaged as one of the small crew,made known Hugh's wish to sail to the Kaministikwia. The shipmasterturned sharply on the lad, demanding to know his purpose in crossing thelake. Hugh explained as well as he could, without betraying more than hehad already told Cadotte and Baptiste.
"Do you know anything of working a ship?" Captain Bennett asked.
"I have sailed a skiff on the St. Lawrence," was the boy's reply. "I canlearn and I can obey orders."
"Um," grunted the Captain. "At least you are a white man. I can use onemore man, and I don't want an Indian. I can put you to work now. If youprove good for anything, I will engage you for the trip over. Here,Duncan," to a strapping, red-haired Scot, "give these fellows somethingto do."
So it came about that Hugh Beaupre, instead of going back at once to theSault, remained at the Point aux Pins shipyard. He returned in the_Otter_, when, three days later, she sailed down the St. Mary's to thedock above the rapids where she was to receive her lading. In themeantime, by an Indian boy, Hugh had sent a message to Cadotte informinghim that he, Hugh Beaupre, had been accepted as one of the crew of the_Otter_ for her trip to the Kaministikwia. Cadotte had returned no reply,so Hugh judged that the trader did not intend to put any obstacles in theway of his adventure.
The goods the sloop was to transport had been received the precedingautumn by ship from Michilimackinac too late to be forwarded acrossSuperior. They were to be sent on now by the _Otter_. A second NorthwestCompany ship, the _Invincible_, which had wintered in Thunder Bay, wasexpected at the Sault in a few weeks. When the great canoe fleet fromMontreal should arrive in June, part of the goods brought would betransferred to the _Invincible_, while the remainder would be taken on inthe canoes. Hugh was heartily glad that he was not obliged to wait forthe fleet. In all probability there would be no vacant places, and ifthere were any, he doubted if, with his limited experience as a canoeman,he would be accepted. He felt himself lucky to obtain a passage on the_Otter_.
The sloop was of only seventy-five tons burden, but the time of loadingwas a busy one. The cargo was varied: provisions, consisting largely ofcorn, salt pork and kegs of tried out grease, with some wheat flour,butter, sugar, tea and other luxuries for the clerks at theKaministikwia; powder and shot; and articles for the Indian trade,blankets, guns, traps, hatchets, knives, kettles, cloth of various kinds,vermilion and other paints, beads, tobacco and liquor, for the furtraders had not yet abandoned the disastrous custom of selling strongdrink to the Indians.
During the loading Hugh had an opportunity to say good-bye to Cadotte.The latter's kindness and interest in the boy's welfare made him ashamedof his doubts of the trader's intentions.