Canada, Eastern -- Description and travel -- Fiction; Outdoor life -- Canada, Eastern -- Fiction
The following day was Sunday. Amesbury held religious services
directly after breakfast. Then he played the violin for an hour, and
they all sang some hymns, after which they chatted, cozily gathered
around the stove, Paul and Dan luxuriating in the homelike atmosphere
that was a part of the cabin.
“Tomorrow,” said Amesbury after dinner, “Ahmik takes to his trapping
trail, and we won’t see him again in a month. He goes westward. I’ll
be going, too, for awhile. My trail takes me south, along one side of
a chain of lakes, and swings back along the other side. I’ll be back
in a week if the weather holds good. Takes me that long to make the
rounds. You chaps make yourselves at home.”
“Can’t we go along and help you?” asked Paul. “It must be mighty
tedious all alone.”
“No, not this trip. Perhaps I’ll take one of you at a time on later
trips. I’ll tell you what! You and Dan do a little trapping on your
own account. There are a lot of traps out here in the woodroom. Dan
knows how to set them. Put them anywhere it looks good to you. I
expect you to earn your board and something more, you know. I told you
that before you came. I’ll give you a chance to work on shares. You
can use my traps and I’ll board you for half your hunt. How does that
suit you?”
“O, aye, ’twill be fine,” said Dan. “I were thinkin’, now, I’d like t’
do a bit o’ trappin’.”
“You might get a silver fox, and go home rich. Now think of that!” and
Amesbury’s eyes twinkled.
“An’ is they silvers here?” asked Dan.
“Sometimes. Silvers, reds, cross, whites and blues. You’ll find
martens in the timber. There are plenty of wolves, too--the big gray
kind. You’ll hear them howling nights.”
“An’ is they wolves, now? I’d like wonderful well t’ kill some
wolves.” Dan’s eyes sparkled.
“Not afraid of ’em, eh?” Amesbury laughed.
“They mostly keeps too far away. They’s cowards, wolves is.”
“Sometimes, but look out for packs.”
“Are there any bears?” asked Paul.
“Bears? Yes, there are bears, but you won’t see any. They’re all in
their dens and won’t come out till spring.”
Long before dawn on Monday morning the boys were awakened from sound
slumber by Amesbury singing, in full, melodious tones:
“‘Awake, arise, pull out your eyes,
And hear what time of day;
And when you have done,
Pull out your tongue,
And see what you can say.’”
Amesbury was cooking breakfast by candlelight, and the room was filled
with the odor of coffee and frying venison steak. Ahmik was getting
his things ready, preparatory to leaving. The boys crawled drowsily
from their sleeping bags.
“Good morning, fellows,” called Amesbury cheerily. “Too bad to get you
out so early, but Ahmik and I’ll have to be going. Wash up;
breakfast’s ready.”
“We’ll miss you terribly,” said Paul. “It’s going to be pretty lonely
when you’re gone.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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