“Thanks, old man,” returned the sailor. Then, as if the thought had suddenly flashed upon him, he added: “By the way, you might leave a drop with me, old chap; the time will be deuced long while you’re away.”
Roy shot him a quick glance and remained silent for some moments as if debating within himself. He turned and lingered over the spirit chest, and then, alas, against his better judgment, he produced two bottles of whiskey which he handed to the sailor. There was nothing in these innocent black bottles to warn him that they would be chiefly instrumental in bringing about the catastrophe his gloomy forebodings had foreshadowed—the imp of evil was there.
“I shall be away only four days if the weather holds good,” said Roy. Then looking the other straight in the eyes he added a little more seriously, but with a smile: “Of course I depend upon you behaving yourself, Broom. You’ve given your word that you will try no more foolishness with Kasba, and I trust you. I have given you the liquor you asked for, but I don’t expect you to make an ass of yourself.”
Broom smiled broadly while engaged in stowing the bottles under a pillow of his bunk.
“Dear me, what a doubting Thomas you are!” he said. Then, with the theatrical manner he was so fond of assuming, he added: “You may proceed on your hazardous journey, my good Samaritan, with the greatest confidence in your humble servant’s future exemplary behavior. He will conduct himself in the most approved manner during your absence.”
After this virtuous assurance, Broom partly filled an enamelled mug with whiskey from a bottle on the table, and, raising it in the air, drank to “a successful trip.” “May you return with your sleds loaded down with furs,” he cried, in a more friendly spirit than he had shown for some time past.
Thanking him for his wishes, Roy drank the liquor he had mixed for himself, and prepared for bed.
“You must excuse me,” he said, “for I am making an early start in the morning. But don’t let my going to bed interfere with your enjoyment. There is not much in the bottle, you might as well finish it.”
Broom muttered something about the other’s generosity and drew the bottle toward him, while Roy made haste to bed.
The trading party left the Fort long before daylight next morning and were many miles away when the “day-sky” crept over the horizon, for the dogs were going well. Neither of the com-it-uks was loaded very heavily, although they appeared to be so from their bulk, but this was caused by the amount of bedding, changes of clothing, and other useful gear that trippers in the Far North are compelled to take with them when making a trip, it does not matter how short, in winter; for a blizzard, like that in which Kasba was lost, easily protracts a short trip into one of several days’ duration.