“Aye,” said Thomas, “we’ll agree to that, though I’m not doubtin’ ’twill be a bit hard now and again to be cheery with a broken leg all lashed up like mine is, and me on my back.”
And so it was agreed that they were to look misfortune squarely in the face, as brave men should, without flinching. And need enough they were to have, in the months to come, for all the courage and fortitude they possessed.
IV
INDIAN JAKE, THE HALF BREED
As soon as ever Margaret could get them a cup of tea and a snack to eat, David and Andy were to be off upon their voyage to the post. They were good boatmen and sailors, both of them, for down on The Labrador every lad learns the art of sailing early. Often enough they had made the journey to the post in the small boat. But now they were to be entrusted with the big boat, and with the season’s catch of fish as cargo, and they were to purchase the winter’s supplies for the house. This was an important mission indeed.
David, as skipper of the big boat, and Andy as crew, therefore felt a vast deal of responsibility, when Thomas called them to his bedside and gave David the final instructions. They were to bring back with them flour, pork, tea and molasses for the house, and woolen duffle, kersey and moleskin cloth for clothing, besides many little odds and ends to be purchased at the store. Then there were verbal messages to be delivered to Mr. MacCreary, the factor, and to Zeke Hodge, the post servant.
“And tell Mr. MacCreary I may be askin’ he for more debt than I been askin’ for many a year,” added Thomas with a tinge of regret, for it had been his pride to avoid debt. “But tell he I’ll pay un. I’ll pay un all when my leg is mended and I gets about again.”
“I’ll tell he, sir,” said David.
“’Twouldn’t be so bad, now, if you had two more years on your shoulders, Davy, lad,” Thomas continued, a little wistfully. “You could tend my trail then, and we might get th’ money t’ send Jamie for the cure.”