Side by side, Ruth and I sat near the fire for hours. In truth, the poor maid was drooping with sheer fatigue. I, poor lout, could think of naught cheering to say to her, and so we sat and listened to the lapping of the waves below and the chance talk of the three men. I mentioned it not to Ruth, but the more I saw of Gib the more I feared and hated the fellow, though for no very tangible reason save the words of Radisson. And those I understood but dimly for many days to come.
Toward the sunset Radisson returned to us, bearing two dead rabbits. These were prepared and Ruth cooked them, giving us a wholesome change from the salt meat. Gradually the darkness fell, and we built up the fire until its warmth gave us such a glow as we had not known for weeks.
That night Radisson told us many stories of his adventures in this very country and in the Canadas to the south. He told how he had been captured as a lad by the Mohawk Indians and how he had finally become a great man among them, before returning to his own people. Then he told of that great empire of the redmen, called the Five Nations, of which the Mohawks are the greatest; of his later travels in the west and of how he had discovered that great river called "Father of Waters" by the Indians, which in later days had been "discovered" anew, for Radisson never stood well with the Papists. To his stories the men listened eagerly, Gib with a half sneer, but little did I heed their glumness. Ruth and I forgot ourselves in Radisson's words, which was perhaps as he had intended.
So drew that day to a close. Seldom in my life have I known a more terrible one—not from its actual danger, but from the mere awfulness of the unknown. Only once have I felt greater terror, and of that you shall hear in its proper place.
In the night a little breeze arose. I woke once to find Radisson building the fire anew, and cast my eyes toward the star-hung waters. But no ship's light could I see, and I think I sobbed myself to sleep in misery of heart, for I remember Gib cursing me in some strange tongue.
With the morning our worst fears were confirmed. There before us lay the blue bay glittering in the sun, but never a sign of the "Lass o' Dee." To north and west the shore stretched, while the country behind us seemed thickly wooded and deserted. It was a strange thing, to me at least, to see all that land with not a single spiral of smoke curling up from any farm or stead.
That the ship had sunk with all on board, I no longer had any doubt. Fortunately, we had good store of provisions, and as I sat with Ruth that morning and gazed out across the water, I did my best to cheer up the poor maid. The loss of my father and the rest was a great shock to her, coming as it had, but she was never much given to grieving and sat there dry-eyed. Pretty enough she looked, despite her grief, for her yellow hair fell braided over her shoulders and her great violet eyes stared out from beneath her fine, high brows. Looking at her in this moment, I was startled by a likeness of her profile to that of old Radisson; howbeit, I said nothing of it at the time.
No sooner had we made sure of the ship's loss than Radisson vanished with one of the fusils, and after a time we heard a faint shot. The men were already like new, the scurvy symptoms vanishing rapidly before the herb-brew and roots, and I myself could feel the great change which these had worked in me.
Slowly the morning drew on, and then Radisson appeared bearing parts of a deer-like animal he called a caribou. When we had eaten and drunk we felt wondrous better, both in body and mind.
"It is hard to realize," said Ruth very soberly, "that we alone are left alive out of all that ship's company. It seems like some evil dream."