CHAPTER XXXVI
_It Appears That the Courage and Strength of the Son of a Colonial Knight are to be Tried. The Hunters are Caught in a Great Storm_
THE _Lucky Star_ and the _Dictator_ parted company the next day--theformer bound for the Labrador coast, the latter in a southerlydirection to White Bay. For several days, the _Dictator_ ran hereand there among the great floes, attacking small herds; and at theend of a week she had ten thousand seals in her hold. But that cargodid not by any means content Captain Hand. Indeed, he began to fearthe voyage would be little better than a failure. Nothing less thantwenty thousands pelts would be a profitable "haul" for a vessel of the_Dictator's_ tonnage to carry back to St. John's.
For that reason, perhaps, both the captain and the men were willing totake some risk, when, late one morning, a large herd was sighted on afloe near the coast in the southwest. The danger lay in the weather: itwas an unpromising day--cold and dull, and threatening snow and storm.For a time the captain hesitated; but, at last, he determined to landhis men in three parties, caution them to be watchful and quick, andhimself try to keep the _Dictator_ within easy reach of them all. Itreally did not appear to be necessary to waste the day merely becausethe sky was dark over the coast.
Bill o' Burnt Bay's party was landed first. Billy Topsail and TimTuttle were members of it; and, as usual, Archie Armstrong attachedhimself to it. As the _Dictator_ steamed away to land the second crew,and, thence, still further away to land the third, Bill led his men ona trot for the pack, which lay about a mile from the water's edge.
"'Tis a queer day, this," Bill observed to the boys, who trotted in hiswake.
"Sure, why?" asked Billy.
"Is it t' snow, or is it not? Can you answer me that? Sure, I mostalways can tell that little thing, but t'-day I can't."
"'Tis like snow," Billy replied, puzzled, "an' again 'tisn't. 'Tisqueer, that!"
"I hopes the captain keeps the ship at hand," said Bill. "'Tis not t'my taste t' spend a night on the floe in a storm."
To be lost in a blizzard is a dreaded danger, and not at all anuncommon experience. Many crews, lost from the ship in a blindingstorm, have been carried out to sea with the floe, and never heard ofafterwards. Bill o' Burnt Bay lost his own father in that way, andhimself had had two narrow escapes from the same fate. So he scannedthe sky anxiously, not only as he ran along at the head of his sixtymen, but from time to time through the day, until the excitement of thehunt put all else out of his head.
"LASH YOUR TOWS, B'YS," SAID BILL. "LEAVE THE REST GO."]
It was a profitable hunt. The men laboured diligently and rapidly. Sointent on the work in hand were they that none observed the darkeningsky and the gusts of wind that broke from behind the rocky coast. Thus,towards evening, when the work was over save the sculping and lashing,dusk caught them unaware. Bill o' Burnt Bay looked up to find that thesnow was flying, that it was black as ink in the northeast, and thatthe wind was blowing in long, angry gusts.
"Men," he cried, "did you ever see a sky like that?"
The men watched the heavy clouds in the northeast rise and swiftlyspread.
"Sure, it looks bad," muttered one.
"Make haste with the sculpin'," Bill ordered. "They's wonderful heavyweather comin' up. I mind me a time when a blizzard come out of a skylike that."
The dusk grew deeper, the snow fell thicker, the wind rose; and allthis Bill observed while he worked. Groups of men lashed their tows andstarted off for the edge of the floe where the steamer was to returnfor them.
"Lash your tows, b'ys," shouted Bill, to the rest of the men. "Leavethe rest go. 'Tis too late t' sculp any more."
There was some complaint; but Bill silenced the growlers with a sharpword or two. The whole party set off in a straggling line, draggingtheir tows; it was Bill who brought up the rear, for he wanted to makesure that his company would come entire to the landing-place. Strong,stinging blasts of wind were then sweeping out of the northeast, andthe snow was fast narrowing the view.
"Faster, b'ys!" cried Bill. "The storm's comin' wonderful quick."
The storm came faster than, with all his experience, Bill o' BurntBay had before believed possible. When he had given the order toabandon the unskinned seals, he thought that there was time and tospare; but, now, with less than half the distance to the landing-placecovered, the men were already staggering, the wind was blowing agale, and the blinding snow almost hid the flags at the water's edge.When he realized this, and that the ship was not yet in sight, "Dropeverything, an' run for it!" was the order he sent up the line.
"Archie, b'y," he then shouted, catching the lad by the arm and drawinghim nearer, "we got t' run for the landing-place. Stick close t' me.When you're done out, I'll carry you. Is you afraid, b'y?"
Archie looked up, but did not deign to reply to the humiliatingquestion.
"All right, lad," said Bill, understanding. "Is you ready?"
Archie knew that his strength and courage were to be tried. He wastired, and cold, and almost hopeless; but, then and there, he resolvedto prove his blood and breeding--to prove to these men, who had beenunfailingly kind to him, but yet had naturally looked with good-naturedcontempt upon his fine clothes and white hands, that fortitude wasnot incompatible with a neat cravat and nice manners. Beyond all that,however, it was his aim to prove that Sir Archibald Armstrong's son wasthe son of his own father.
"Lead on, Bill," he said.
"Good lad!" Bill muttered.
Archie bent to the blast.