[CHAPTER XVII]
JACK MEETS A SEAL PIRATE
From the camp at Twin Falls the course was southeast, and passing between Captain and Nelson Islands the canoe entered Agamemnon Channel. Early in the afternoon they came out on Malaspina Straits. A fresh breeze carried the canoe along at a good rate of speed, and in the evening camp was made on the mainland, a little beyond Merry Island.
The following day, as they were approaching an Indian village, situated near the point where the trail from the head of Seechelt Inlet came down to the shore of the Gulf, they saw a trading schooner anchored off it. Provisions were growing low, and it was determined to visit the vessel and see whether food could be purchased. As they paddled toward it, a dog which was running up and down the deck barked loudly at them in seeming salutation, and they saw the figure of a man watching them from the stern. Presently they were near enough to hail him, and he invited them to come aboard, which they did. The Indians remained in the canoe, and kept it from rubbing against the schooner's side.
The man was a splendid, big, hearty young fellow, but a cripple, having lost his leg just below the knee. He talked with them about where they had been, what they had done and seen, and spoke of the vessel's owner, who had gone inland with a back load of trade goods, to try to secure some furs that were said to be at an Indian camp some miles inland. "I ought to have gone with him," he said, "but you see I can't get around very easily with only one leg. In this country there is so much moisture and so many rocks, that it's pretty hard for a man to get around at all. He needs two legs, and good ones at that. I can't walk far or long, and this confounded pin of mine sometimes gets stuck in the soft ground or wedged between rocks, and keeps me anchored until I can pull it out. So, really, I am no good except to keep shop and help to work the ship. It seems mighty good to see the white folks again; we have been out all summer, and I've not seen anybody except the Indians, and I don't care much for them.
"Now, you two," he said, as he pointed to Jack and Hugh, "you come from my country. This man," he said, pointing to Fannin, "belongs here. He is a Canuck."
"You are an American, sir?" asked Jack.
"Yes," said the man, "I am an American; just about as much American as anybody can be. I come from the state of Maine, and that's about as far east as the United States goes."
"That's so," said Jack. "The old Pine Tree State is a great state."
"Right you are, young fellow," said the man. "She's a great state, and she has sent out some good men; it's a pity I wasn't one of them—but I wasn't. My name is Crocker, and I was born right near the shore, and have been a fisherman and a sailor all my life. The worst luck ever happened to me was when I drifted along this coast and kept on sailoring here. This is the way that I lost my leg."
"Well," said Hugh, "that was sure a piece of bad luck. I should think on one of these boats a man would need two good legs, just as much as he does on a horse. I have seen some one-legged men who could ride all right, but they were never so sure in the saddle as if they had two legs."