‘LABRADOR WOLVES.’
said I.
“In early June, two years ago, my friend, Jack Rollings, of the Canada Geological Survey, was occupied in exploring parts of the Labrador coast, from the mouth of the Moisic River eastward. The following adventure, one of several that befell him in that wild region, has a peculiar interest from its possible connection with a throng of terrible legends, the scenes of which are laid along those shores.
“Ever since the Gulf of St. Lawrence became known to the fishing-fleets of Brittany and the Basque Provinces, its north-eastern coast has been peopled, by the vivid imaginations of the fishermen and sailors, with supernatural beings of various fashions, all agreeing, however, in the attributes of malignity and noisiness. Demons and griffins and monsters indescribable were supposed to haunt the bleak hills and dreadful ravines. Ships driven reluctantly inshore by stress of weather were wont to carry away strange tales of howlings and visions to freeze the marrow of the folks at home.
“The probable origin of those myths may be found in the fact that from time to time the coast has been ravaged by hordes of gigantic gray wolves, sweeping down from the unfathomed wilderness of the high interior plateau. One of these visitations was in 1873, when many of the coast dwellers, whose scanty settlements cling here and there in the lonely harbors, were torn to pieces on the shore, or shut up in their cabins till starvation stared them in the face. No great stretch of fancy is required to metamorphose a pack of ravening wolves into a yelling concourse of demons.
“What befell Jack Rollings I will tell in his own words.”
“Our schooner,” said Jack, “lay at anchor in a little landlocked bay where never a wind could get at her, and much of our exploration was done by means of short boat trips in one direction or the other. One morning Frank Jones and I made up our minds to take a day off, and try and kill a salmon or two.
“About five miles west of where we lay, there was a cove where, behind a low, rocky point, a little river came down out of the mountains. Half a mile above the head of tide the stream fell noisily over a shallow fall into a most enticing pool, and we calculated that we would be just in good time for the first run of the salmon.
“There was a stretch of shoals off the mouth of the stream, and no sheltered anchorage near; so we took the small boat for the trip, and a fresh breeze off the gulf blew us to our destination speedily. It was high tide when we arrived; and we hauled up the boat in the cove, under shelter of the point.
“Besides our rods, we had enough grub for a good lunch, and our top-coats in case it should blow up cold in the afternoon. Frank had brought his gun along, with a few cartridges loaded with number one and number two shot, in case he might want to shoot some big bird for his collection, which is already one of the best private collections in Ottawa.
“When we had put our rods together, we moved up along the wet edges of the beach, which glistened in the morning sun, and presently found ourselves at the basin where we expected our sport. Over the low, foaming barrier of the falls we saw a salmon make way in a flashing leap, and we knew we had struck both the right place and the right time.
“I need not tell you the particulars of the sport. You know what a Labrador salmon stream is when you happen to take it in a good humor. Enough to say, when we began to think of lunch it was about two o’clock; and we had six fish, ranging from ten to thirty-five pounds, lying in splendid array beneath a neighboring rock. As much of our spoils as we could carry at once we took down to the spot where the boat lay; and building a little fire of driftwood, we proceeded to fry some salmon collops for lunch.
“While enjoying our after-dinner smoke we observed that the wind had shifted a point or two to the east, and was blowing up half a gale.
“‘Great Scott!’ exclaimed Frank. ‘If we don’t get away from here right off, we’re going to be storm-stayed! This wind will raise a sea presently that we won’t be able to face. Let’s leave right off! I’ll drag the boat down to the water, while you go after the rest of those fish.’
“‘No, no!’ said I. ‘We’ll just stay where we are for the present. Don’t you see that the waves are already breaking into the cove too heavy for us? If you were round on the other side of the point now, you’d see what the water is, and you’d be glad enough you’re out of it, I can tell you! We’re all right here, and we may as well fish till toward sundown; and if the wind has not eased off by that time, we’ll just have to snug the boat up here, and foot it over the hills to the schooner. It’s not more than five or six miles anyway.’
“Frank strolled across the point for a look at the sea, and came back in agreement with my views. Then we returned to the pool, and whipped it assiduously till after five o’clock, but without a repetition of the morning’s success.
“Meanwhile the wind got fiercer and fiercer, so we went back to the boat and made a hearty supper as preparation for the rough tramp that lay before us. We took our time, and smoked at leisure, and cached our prizes, and resolved not to start till moonrise. By this time the tide was well out, and the cove had become an expanse of shingly flats, threaded by the shallow current of the stream, and fringed along its seaward edge with a line of angry surf.
“By and by the moon got up out of the gulf, round and white, and bringing with her an extra blow. As the shore brightened up clearly, we set out, moving along the crest of the point. Frank was just saying, ‘How spectral those scarred gray hills look in this light! How suitable a place for the hobgoblins those old Frenchmen imagined to possess them!’ when, as if to point his remarks, there came a ghostly clamor, high and quavering, from a dark cleft far up the mountain-side.
“We both started; and I exclaimed, ‘The loons have overheard you, old fellow, and are trying to work on your nerves! They want revenge for the stuffed companions of their bygone days.’
“‘That’s not loons!’ said Frank very seriously. ‘It’s no more like loons than it’s like lions! Listen to that!’
“I listened, and was convinced.
“‘Then it must be those old Frenchmen’s friends,’ I suggested; ‘and I feel greatly inclined to avoid meeting them if possible.’
“‘It’s the wolves from the interior,’ rejoined Frank. ‘I’d rather have the griffins and goblins. Don’t you remember ’78? I’m afraid we’re in a box.’
“‘Let us get down to windward of the point, and lie low among the rocks,’ I suggested. ‘As likely as not the brutes won’t detect us, and will keep along up the shore.’
“Instantly we dropped into concealment, keeping, through the apertures of the crest, a fearful eye upon the mountain slopes. We were fools, to be sure; for we might have known those keen eyes had spotted us from the first, silhouetted as we had been against the moonlit sea.
“Presently Frank suggested the boat, but my sufficient answer was to point to the raging surf. So we lay still, and prayed to be ignored. In a few minutes our suspense was painfully relieved by the appearance of a pack of gray forms, which swept out into the moonlight beyond the river, and came heading straight for our refuge.
“‘Two dozen of ’em!’ gasped Frank.
“‘And they’ve certainly spotted us,’ I whispered.
“‘There’s not a tree nor a hole we can get into!’ muttered Frank.
“‘We can get on top of this rock, and fight for it,’ I groaned in desperation.
“‘I have it!’ exclaimed Frank. ‘The boat! We’ll get under it, and hold it down!’
“Leaping to our feet we broke wildly for the boat. The wolves greeted us with an exultant howl as they dashed through the shallow river.
“We had just time to do it comfortably. The boat was heavy, and we turned it over in such a way that the bow was steadied between two rocks. Once safely underneath, we lifted the craft a little and jammed her between the rocks so that the brutes would be unable to root her over.
“One side was raised about eight or ten inches by a piece of rock which Frank was going to remove; but I stopped him. By this time the brutes were on top of the boat, and we could hear by the snarling that they had unearthed our salmon. Just then a row of long snouts and snapping jaws came under the gunwale, and we shrank as small as possible. The brutes shoved and struggled so mightily that it seemed as if they must succeed in overturning the boat, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
“‘Shoot,’ I yelled frantically; and at the same instant my ears were almost burst by the discharge of both Frank’s barrels. A terrific yelping and howling ensued, while our crowded quarters were filled to suffocation with the smoke.
“When the air cleared somewhat we could see that the wolves were eating the two whose heads Frank’s shot had shattered. Our position was very cramped and uncomfortable, half-sitting, half-lying, between the thwarts; but by stretching flat we could peer beneath the gunwale, and command a view of the situation. We had a moment’s respite.
“‘Frank,’ said I, ‘we might as well be eaten as scared to death. Don’t fire that gun again in here. It nearly blew my ear-drums in. Club the brutes over the snout. All that’s necessary is to disable them, and it seems their kind companions will do the rest.’
“‘All right,’ responded Frank; ‘only you must do your share!’ and he passed me up the hatchet out of the ‘cuddy-hole’ in the bow.
“By this time the slaughtered wolves were reduced to hair and bones, and the pack once more turned their attention to us. Once more the ominous row of heads appeared, squeezed under the boat-side, and claws tore madly at the roof that sheltered us.
“As combatants, our positions were exceedingly constrained; but so, too, were those of our assailants. A wolf cannot dodge well when his head is squeezed under a gunwale.
“Hampered as I was I smashed the skulls of the two within easiest reach, barking my knuckles villanously as I wielded my weapon. I heard Frank, too, pounding viciously up in the bow. Then the attack drew off again, and the feasting and quarrelling recommenced.
“I turned to make some remark to my companion, but gave a yell of dismay instead, as I felt a pair of iron jaws grab me by the foot, and tear away the sole of my boot. In the excitement of the contest my foot had gone too near the gunwale.
“The wolves were now growing too wary to thrust their heads under the gunwale. For a time they merely sniffed along the edge; and though we might easily have smashed their toes or the ends of their noses, we refrained in order to gain opportunity for something more effective.
“We must have waited thus for as much as ten minutes, and the inaction was becoming intolerable, when the brutes, thinking perhaps we were dead or gone to sleep, made a sudden concerted effort to reach us. There must have been a dozen heads at once thrust in beneath the gunwale. One preternaturally lean wolf even wriggled his shoulders fairly through, so that he was within an ace of taking a mouthful out of my leg before I could have a fair blow at him with my hatchet.
“I think we either killed or disabled four at least in that assault. Thereupon the pack drew off a little, and sat down on their haunches to consider.
“They could not possibly have been still hungry, having eaten two or three wolves and a hundred pounds or so of nice fresh salmon, and we were in hopes they would go away.
“But instead of that they came back to the boat, and set up a tremendous howling, which may have been a call for re-enforcements, or a challenge to come out and settle the trouble in a square fight.
“I asked Frank how many cartridges he had left.
“‘Oh,’ said he, ‘a dozen or more, at least!’
“‘Verily well,’ said I; ‘you’d better blaze away and kill as many as you can. I’ll protect my ear-drums by stuffing my ears full of rags. Try and make every shot tell.’
“As the wolves were not more than eight or ten feet away, the heavy bird-shot had the same effect as a bullet. Two of the brutes were clean bowled over. Then the others sprang furiously upon the boat. When Frank thrust forth the muzzle of the gun, it was seized and all but wrenched from his grasp. He bagged two more; then the rest moved round to the other side of the boat.
“But very soon the survivors appeared to make up their minds to a new departure; and after a little running hither and thither with their noses down, they suddenly crystallized, as it were, into a well-ordered pack, and swept away up the shore. Their strange, terrible, wind-like ululations were soon re-echoing in the mountains.
“We came forth from our uncomfortable but effectual retreat, and counted our victims. When the last sound of the howling had long died away, we set forth in the direction of the schooner, which was not the direction in which the wolves were journeying.’
CHAPTER V.
SQUATOOK RIVER AND HORTON BRANCH.
The next was a rainy day at Camp de Squatook. Of course we fished off and on all day, whenever the rain held up a little; and in a deep run, about a hundred yards below the whitefish fence, Sam had the luck to land the big trout of the trip. It weighed, fresh from the water, three pounds three ounces, and it was killed with a minnow. Sam complained, however, that it had given him no more play than one of his two-pounders of the day before. We thought him very artful, in thus concealing his elation so as to ward off our envy.
By nightfall it was raining pitchforks. In our tight tent, with wax candles beaming, and the rattle of the rain on the roof, we felt very snug. But inexpressibly lonely was the washing sound in the pine-branches; and all the rest of the world seemed ages away from us. For a while no stories were called for. Instead of that we played Mississippi euchre. When we grew tired of the game, Stranion exclaimed, “Let’s have one story, and then turn in!”
“Who will hold forth?” I asked.
“Well,” said Ranolf, “since you are all so pressing, I will try and rise to the occasion. It seems to be an understood thing that all these stories are animal stories; but in this one I must wander from the rule, and tell you a story of rain and wind. The noise on the tent-roof to-night reminds me of a nice scrape which I got myself into only last summer. When you hear the story you will understand just why I tell it to-night. Sam, you heard all about it two days after it happened. It’s appropriate to the occasion, isn’t it? I mean about how I was—