The place in the boats usually allotted3 to gentlemen in the Company’s service while travelling is the stern. Here the lading is so arranged as to form a pretty level hollow, where the flat bundles containing their blankets are placed, and a couch is thus formed that rivals Eastern effeminacy in luxuriance. There are occasions, however, when this couch is converted into a bed, not of thorns exactly, but of corners; and really it would be hard to say which of the two is the more disagreeable. Should the men be careless in arranging the cargo4, the inevitable5 consequence is that “monsieur” will find the leg of an iron stove, the sharp edge of a keg, or the corner of a wooden box occupying the place where his ribs6 should be. So common, however, is this occurrence that the clerks usually superintend the arrangements themselves, and so secure comfort.
On a couch, then, of this kind, Charley and Harry now found themselves constrained7 to sit all morning—sometimes asleep, occasionally awake, and always earnestly desiring that it was time to put ashore8 for breakfast, as they had now travelled for four hours without halt, except twice for about five minutes, to let the men light their pipes.
“Charley,” said Harry Somerville to his friend, who sat beside him, “it strikes me that we are to have no breakfast at all to-day. Here have I been holding my breath and tightening9 my belt, until I feel much more like a spider or a wasp10 than a—a—”
“Man, Harry; out with it at once, don’t be afraid,” said Charley.
“Well, no, I wasn’t going to have said that exactly, but I was going to have said a voyageur; only I recollected11 our doings this morning, and hesitated to take the name until I had won it.”
“It’s well that you entertain so modest an opinion of yourself,” said Mr Park, who still smoked his pipe as if he were impressed with the idea that to stop for a moment would produce instant death. “I may tell you for your comfort, youngsters, that we shan’t breakfast till we reach yonder point.”
The shores of Lake Winnipeg are flat and low, and the point indicated by Mr Park lay directly in the light of the sun, which now shone with such splendour in the cloudless sky, and flashed on the polished water, that it was with difficulty they could look towards the point of land.
“Where is it?” asked Charley, shading his eyes with his hand; “I cannot make out anything at all.”
“Try again, my boy; there’s nothing like practice.”
“Ah, yes! I make it out now; a faint shadow just under the sun. Is that it?”
“Ay, and we’ll break our fast there.”
“I would like very much to break your head here,” thought Charley, but he did not say it, as, besides being likely to produce unpleasant consequences, he felt that such a speech to an elderly gentleman would be highly improper12; and Charley had some respect for grey hairs for their own sake, whether the owner of them was a good man or a goose.
“What shall we do, Harry? If I had only thought of keeping out a book.”
“I know what I shall do,” said Harry, with a resolute13 air:
“I’ll go and shoot!”
“Shoot!” cried Charley. “You don’t mean to say that you’re going to waste your powder and shot by firing at the clouds! for, unless you take them, I see nothing else here.”
“That’s because you don’t use your eyes,” retorted Harry. “Will you just look at yonder rock ahead of us, and tell me what you see.”
Charley looked earnestly at the rock, which to a cursory14 glance seemed as if composed of whiter stone on the top. “Gulls17, I declare!” shouted Charley, at the same time jumping up in haste.
Just then one of the gulls, probably a scout18 sent out to watch the approaching enemy, wheeled in a circle overhead. The two youths dragged their guns from beneath the thwarts19 of the boat, and rummaged20 about in great anxiety for shot-belts and powder-horns. At last they were found; and having loaded, they sat on the edge of the boat, looking out for game with as much—ay, with more intense interest than a Blackfoot Indian would have watched for a fat buffalo21 cow.
“There he goes,” said Harry; “take the first shot, Charley.”
“Where? where is it?”
“Right ahead. Look out!”
As Harry spoke22, a small white gull16, with bright-red legs and beak23, flew over the boat so close to them that, as the guide remarked, “he could see it wink24!” Charley’s equanimity25, already pretty well disturbed, was entirely26 upset at the suddenness of the bird’s appearance; for he had been gazing intently at the rock when his friend’s exclamation27 drew his attention in time to see the gull within about four feet of his head. With a sudden “Oh!” Charley threw forward his gun, took a short, wavering aim, and blew the cocktail28 feather out of Baptiste’s hat; while the gull sailed tranquilly29 away, as much as to say, “If that’s all you can do, there’s no need for me to hurry!”
“Confound the boy!” cried Mr Park. “You’ll be the death of some one yet; I’m convinced of that.”
“Parbleu! you may say that, c’est vrai,” remarked the voyageur, with a rueful gaze at his hat, which, besides having its ornamental30 feather shattered, was sadly cut up about the crown.
The poor lad’s face became much redder than the legs or beak of the gull as he sat down in confusion, which he sought to hide by busily reloading his gun; while the men indulged in a somewhat witty31 and sarcastic32 criticism of his powers of shooting, remarking, in flattering terms, on the precision of the shot that blew Baptiste’s feather into atoms, and declaring that if every shot he fired was as truly aimed he would certainly be the best in the country.
Baptiste also came in for a share of their repartee33. “It serves you right,” said the guide, laughing, “for wearing such things on the voyage. You should put away such foppery till you return to the settlement, where there are girls to admire you.” (Baptiste had continued to wear the tall hat, ornamented34 with gold cords and tassels36, with which he had left Red River.)
“Ah!” cried another, pulling vigorously at his oar37, “I fear that Marie won’t look at you, now that all your beauty’s gone.”
“’Tis not quite gone,” said a third; “there’s all the brim and half a tassel35 left, besides the wreck38 of the remainder.”
“Oh, I can lend you a few fragments,” retorted Baptiste, endeavouring to parry some of the thrusts. “They would improve you vastly.”
“No, no, friend, gather them up and replace them; they will look more picturesque39 and becoming now. I believe if you had worn them much longer all the men in the boat would have fallen in love with you.”
“By St. Patrick,” said Mike Brady, an Irishman who sat at the oar immediately behind the unfortunate Canadian, “there’s more than enough o’ rubbish scattered40 over mysilf nor would do to stuff a fither-bed with.”
As Mike spoke, he collected the fragments of feathers and ribbons with which the unlucky shot had strewn him, and placed them slyly on the top of the dilapidated hat, which Baptiste, after clearing away the wreck, had replaced on his head.
“It’s very purty,” said Mike, as the action was received by the crew with a shout of merriment.
Baptiste was waxing wrathful under this fire, when the general attention was drawn41 again towards Charley and his friend, who, having now got close to the rock, had quite forgotten their mishap42 in the excitement of expectation.
This excitement in the shooting of such small game might perhaps surprise our readers, did we not acquaint them with the fact that neither of the boys had, up to that time, enjoyed much opportunity of shooting. It is true that Harry had once or twice borrowed the fowling-piece of the senior clerk, and had sallied forth43 with a beating heart to pursue the grouse44 which are found in the belt of woodland skirting the Assiniboine River near to Fort Garry. But these expeditions were of rare occurrence, and they had not sufficed to rub off much of the bounding excitement with which he loaded and fired at anything and everything that came within range of his gun. Charley, on the other hand, had never fired a shot before, except out of an old horse-pistol; having up to this period been busily engaged at school, except during the holidays, which he always spent in the society of his sister Kate, whose tastes were not such as were likely to induce him to take up the gun, even if he had possessed45 such a weapon. Just before leaving Red River, his father presented him with his own gun, remarking, as he did so, with a sigh, that his day was past now; and adding, that the gun was a good one for shot or ball, and if he (Charley) brought down half as much game with it as he (Mr Kennedy) had brought down in the course of his life, he might consider himself a crack shot undoubtedly46.
It was not surprising, therefore, that the two friends went nearly mad with excitation when the whole flock of gulls rose into the air like a white cloud, and sailed in endless circles and gyrations above and around their heads—flying so close at times that they might almost have been caught by the hand. Neither was it surprising that innumerable shots were fired, by both sportsmen, without a single bird being a whit15 the worse for it, or themselves much the better; the energetic efforts made to hit being rendered abortive47 by the very eagerness which caused them to miss. And this was the less extraordinary, too, when it is remembered that Harry in his haste loaded several times without shot, and Charley rendered the right barrel of his gun hors de combat at last, by ramming48 down a charge of shot and omitting powder altogether, whereby he snapped and primed, and snapped and primed again, till he grew desperate, and then suspicious of the true cause, which he finally rectified50 with much difficulty.
Frequently the gulls flew straight over the heads of the youths,—which produced peculiar51 consequences, as in such cases they took aim while the birds were approaching; but being somewhat slow at taking aim, the gulls were almost perpendicularly52 above them ere they were ready to shoot, so that they were obliged to fire hastily in hope, feeling that they were losing their balance, or give up the chance altogether.
Mr Park sat grimly in his place all the while, enjoying the scene, and smoking.
“Now then, Charley,” said he, “take that fellow.”
“Which? where? Oh, if I could only get one!” said Charley, looking up eagerly at the screaming birds, at which he had been staring so long, in their varying and crossing flight, that his sight had become hopelessly unsteady.
“There! Look sharp: fire away!”
Bang went Charley’s piece, as he spoke, at a gull which flew straight towards him, but so rapidly that it was directly above his head; indeed, he was leaning a little backwards53 at the moment, which caused him to miss again, while the recoil54 of the gun brought matters to a climax55, by toppling him over into Mr Park’s lap, thereby56 smashing that gentleman’s pipe to atoms. The fall accidentally exploded the second barrel, causing the butt57 to strike Charley in the pit of his stomach—as if to ram49 him well home into Mr Park’s open arms—and hitting with a stray shot a gull that was sailing high up in the sky in fancied security. It fell with a fluttering crash into the boat while the men were laughing at the accident.
“Didn’t I say so?” cried Mr Park, wrathfully, as he pitched Charley out of his lap, and spat58 out the remnants of his broken pipe.
Fortunately for all parties, at this moment the boat approached a spot on which the guide had resolved to land for breakfast; and seeing the unpleasant predicament into which poor Charley had fallen, he assumed the strong tones of command with which guides are frequently gifted, and called out,—“Ho, ho! à terre! à terre! to land! to land! Breakfast, my boys; breakfast!”—at the same time sweeping59 the boat’s head shoreward, and running into a rocky bay, whose margin60 was fringed by a growth of small trees. Here, in a few minutes, they were joined by the other boats of the brigade, which had kept within sight of each other nearly the whole morning.
While travelling through the wilds of North America in boats, voyageurs always make a point of landing to breakfast. Dinner is a meal with which they are unacquainted, at least on the voyage, and luncheon61 is likewise unknown. If a man feels hungry during the day, the pemmican-bag and its contents are there; he may pause in his work at any time, for a minute, to seize the axe62 and cut off a lump, which he may devour63 as he best can; but there is no going ashore—no resting for dinner. Two great meals are recognised, and the time allotted to their preparation and consumption held inviolable—breakfast and supper: the first varying between the hours of seven and nine in the morning; the second about sunset, at which time travellers usually encamp for the night. Of the two meals it would be difficult to say which is more agreeable. For our own part, we prefer the former. It is the meal to which a man addresses himself with peculiar gusto, especially if he has been astir three or four hours previously65 in the open air. It is the time of day, too, when the spirits are freshest and highest, animated66 by the prospect67 of the work, the difficulties, the pleasures, or the adventures of the day that has begun; and cheered by that cool, clear buoyancy of Nature which belongs exclusively to the happy morning hours, and has led poets in all ages to compare these hours to the first sweet months of spring or the early years of childhood.
Voyageurs, not less than poets, have felt the exhilarating influence of the young day, although they have lacked the power to tell it in sounding numbers; but where words were wanting, the sparkling eye, the beaming countenance68, the light step, and hearty69 laugh, were more powerful exponents70 of the feelings within. Poet, and painter too, might have spent a profitable hour on the shores of that great sequestered71 lake, and as they watched the picturesque groups clustering round the blazing fires, preparing their morning meal, smoking their pipes, examining and repairing the boats, or sunning their stalwart limbs in wild, careless attitudes upon the greensward—might have found a subject worthy72 the most brilliant effusions of the pen or the most graphic73 touches of the pencil.
An hour sufficed for breakfast. While it was preparing, the two friends sauntered into the forest in search of game, in which they were unsuccessful; in fact, with the exception of the gulls before mentioned, there was not a feather to be seen—save, always, one or two whisky-johns.
Whisky-johns are the most impudent74, puffy, conceited75 little birds that exist. Not much larger in reality than sparrows, they nevertheless manage to swell76 out their feathers to such an extent that they appear to be as large as magpies77, which they further resemble in their plumage. Go where you will in the woods of Rupert’s Land, the instant that you light a fire two or three whisky-johns come down and sit beside you, on a branch, it may be, or on the ground, and generally so near that you cannot but wonder at their recklessness. There is a species of impudence78 which seems to be specially64 attached to little birds. In them it reaches the highest pitch of perfection. A bold, swelling79, arrogant80 effrontery—a sort of stark81, staring, sell-complacent, comfortable, and yet innocent impertinence—which is at once irritating and amusing, aggravating82 and attractive, and which is exhibited in the greatest intensity83 in the whisky-john. He will jump down almost under your nose, and seize a fragment of biscuit or pemmican. He will go right into the pemmican-bag, when you are but a few paces off, and pilfer84, as it were, at the fountain-head. Or if these resources are closed against him, he will sit on a twig85, within an inch of your head, and look at you as only a whisky-john can look.
“I’ll catch one of these rascals,” said Harry, as he saw them jump unceremoniously into and out of the pemmican bag.
Going down to the boat, Harry hid himself under the tarpaulin86, leaving a hole open near to the mouth of the bag. He had not remained more than a few minutes in this concealment87 when one of the birds flew down, and alighted on the edge of the boat. After a glance round to see that all was right, it jumped into the bag. A moment after, Harry, darting88 his hand through the aperture89, grasped him round the neck and secured him. Poor whisky-john screamed and pecked ferociously90, while Harry brought him in triumph to his friend; but so unremittingly did the bird scream that his captor was fain at last to let him off, the more especially as the cook came up at the moment and announced that breakfast was ready.
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1
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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wasp
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| n.黄蜂，蚂蜂 | |
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recollected
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| adj.冷静的；镇定的；被回忆起的；沉思默想的v.记起，想起( recollect的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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improper
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| adj.不适当的，不合适的，不正确的，不合礼仪的 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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cursory
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| adj.粗略的；草率的；匆促的 | |
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whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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thwarts
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| 阻挠( thwart的第三人称单数 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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ornamental
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| adj.装饰的；作装饰用的；n.装饰品；观赏植物 | |
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witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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repartee
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| n.机敏的应答 | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tassel
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| n.流苏，穗；v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须 | |
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tassels
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| n.穗( tassel的名词复数 )；流苏状物；（植物的）穗；玉蜀黍的穗状雄花v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的第三人称单数 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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oar
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| n.桨，橹，划手；v.划行 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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grouse
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| n.松鸡；v.牢骚，诉苦 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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abortive
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| adj.不成功的，发育不全的 | |
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ramming
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| n.打结炉底v.夯实（土等）( ram的现在分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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ram
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| (random access memory)随机存取存储器 | |
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rectified
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| [医]矫正的，调整的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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perpendicularly
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| adv. 垂直地, 笔直地, 纵向地 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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recoil
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| vi.退却，退缩，畏缩 | |
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climax
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| n.顶点；高潮；v.(使)达到顶点 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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exponents
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| n.倡导者( exponent的名词复数 )；说明者；指数；能手 | |
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71
sequestered
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| adj.扣押的；隐退的；幽静的；偏僻的v.使隔绝，使隔离( sequester的过去式和过去分词 )；扣押 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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magpies
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| 喜鹊（magpie的复数形式） | |
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78
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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81
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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84
pilfer
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| v.盗，偷，窃 | |
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85
twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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86
tarpaulin
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| n.涂油防水布，防水衣，防水帽 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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88
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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90
ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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