There was a titter amongst the men at the expression of their big comrade’s face, for Ladoc was ravenously hungry, and felt inclined to rebel at the idea of being obliged to start on a six-miles’ walk without food; but as his young master was about to do the same he felt that it was beneath his dignity to complain. Besides, there was a something peculiar about Jack’s manner that puzzled and overawed the man.
The fact was, that Jack Robinson wanted to know what his bullies were made of, and took rather eccentric methods of finding it out. He accordingly set off at his best pace, and pushed Ladoc so hard, that he arrived at the upper fishery in a state of profuse perspiration, with a very red face, and with a disagreeably vacuous feeling about the pit of his stomach.
They found the men at the station just landing with a boat-load of fish. They were all clean-run, and shone in the bright sunshine like bars of burnished silver.
“Now, Ladoc,” said Jack, “get breakfast ready, while I look over matters here.”
It need not be said that the man obeyed most willingly. His master went to examine into details. Half-an-hour sufficed to make him pretty well acquainted with the state of matters at the station, and, during breakfast, he soon obtained from the men all the knowledge they possessed about the fishery, the natives, and the region.
One of the men was a half-caste, a fine-looking, grave, earnest fellow, who spoke English pretty well. His name was Marteau.
“The seals and the bears are our worst enemies, sir,” said Marteau, in the course of conversation.
“Indeed! and which of the two are worst?” inquired Jack. “Another slice of pork, Ladoc, your appetite appears to be sharp this morning; thank you, go on, Marteau, you were saying something about the bears and seals.”
“It’s not easy to say which of them is worst, sir. I think the bears is, for the seals eat the bits that they bite out o’ the fish, and so get some good of it; but the bears, they goes to the vats and pulls out the salt fish with their claws, for you see, sir, they can’t resist the smell, but when they tries to eat ’em—ah, you should see the faces they do make! You see, they can’t stand the salt, so they don’t eat much, but they hauls about and tears up an uncommon lot of fish.”
“It must make him ver’ t’irsty,” observed Ladoc, swallowing a can of tea at a draught.