TALES OF ADVENTURE

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 96, 24 April 1926, Page 27

TALES OF ADVENTURE

THE POISON PEDDLERS.

By T. C. SANDELL.

An exciting little tale of life in a raUroad construction camp in Canada. A trio of rascally foreigners "supplied the workers wth illicit liquor, and some of the half-crazed men promptly started trouble and tried to blow up a tunnel. " I stake my word that the story is.absolutely true." writes Mr. Sandell, "-and most of the people I have mentioned will be readily recognised by Canadian railroad pioneers," .

If education were more prevalent amongst those who dwell in the wild places of the earth, many a true story of romantic adventure that now lies locked in the memory' of . a few participants in the affair would be given to the world.

Those hardy pioneers who can remedy a housing shortage in a night with the combination of stout logs and as stout an arm, face the physical crises of life and death with far greater ease than they handle pen or pencil, and if an occasional tale of primitive prowess makes its way into print it runs the risk of being regarded as sheer fiction by stay-at-home critics.

Very few people, when travelling in luxury across America, ever -give a thought -to the myriad romances that went to the construction of the line over which they are speeding. I have known men to gain small fortunes in a few months by the judicious use of dynamite in the right part of a rock cut, and then. squander their earnings in such mad dissipations as champagne baths. Others, again, put two yeaa-s of sheer hard work into some hastily made contract only to find themselves financially ruined at the end. My old acquaintance, Bill McCairn, however, became the richer 'by some hundreds of thousands of dollars owing to the sharp temper of a blacksmith.

In, those days Bill was a one-horse teamster, working for a modest wage at Cobalt, Ontario, and "Buck" Fisher, being the blacksmith in his vicinity, the twain naturally came, int.o'frfequent contact 7

One-day "Buck" mistook his own thumb-for a horseshoe' nail, hit it hard, gave full vent' to' his repertory of profanity,, and flung : his hammer from him.Bill retrieved it. He took His time about* picking it up, and a handfuV of moss-that-flying tool had knocked from the rocky, surface where it struck he carefully replaced.

• "This • place your own property, Buck?" he queried, at-a decent interval after bringing back the hammer.

-*Yeh—an' anyone, can have "the whole durned show, shack an' all, fer a chew o' plug," growled the smith, still sucking his injured thumb.. - ■ ' ■ '■

"I guess the-shop would do to stable old Pete here,". Bill went on -casually. "Look here—l'll take a chance on it at a hundred dollars." -.-.'• ' I

.One may imagine that JlcCairn's eyes glistened: .when "Buck. < accepted the offer, for the observant- teamster had discerned"" the" glint of "silver* where the hammer. had' struck. After moving in he soon persuaded his brother "Chip" to finance him, and in a few? years the proceeds ■_ that 'accrued from ''Buck' 5 Fisher's property at Cobalt had brought Bill two things—a contract to construct a ; substantial portion of a trans-conti-nental ■". railroad and a still more substantial thirst.

.-Remorse-would. follow swiftly on the| trail of .his frequent outbreaks until one particularly strenuous orgy that —to the; detriment of his work—lasted fully six week 3 changed him into a red-hot" tern perance crank. , The repentant Bill promptly enlistedthe services of his brother and several "soft-drink" advocates of much local influence, and a3 a consequence the whole construction work from Oban to Port Arthur suddenly "went dry."

True, one could legitimately buy strong liquor at Nepigon, but only on the premises of that little town's two hotels, and special agents patrolled the borders of the trail to enforce these drastic new -regulations.

The ban was on the bottle in earnest, and the sequel \vas prophesied by every oldtimer whose eyes had been wont to glisten at the mention of "hooch." "Moonshine", and illicit peddling, they said, with all their I attendant evils, would speedily make their appearance. . At. the time of which I write —the early months of 1913—a branch line of the Canadian Northern Railroad was in course of construction, and I had charge of the first of four camps located on the ten miles of grade sub-contracted by one Ted Maitland.

One afternoon in January a bespectacled young Englishman drifted into my camp. His name was Allen, and he was an unordained preacher, a wellknit, pleasant-looking fellow with a fund of youthful humour that contrasted refreshingly with the rugged and doubtful jests of my men.

He preached an intelligent sermon in the ' bunkh'ous'e 'to "my statjoh gang Swedes, punched the " bull cook's " head for blaspheming unnecessarily, and then, after yarning with mc about the Old Country, paid his footing, and passed on.

Some few weeks after his advent* I received an urgent telephone call from Molloy, who sub-contracted the adjoining ten miles of grade. " You'd best run down to the end of your works," he advised. "There's a bunch of Finns been hittin' up my men to buy liquor. They're loaded up with jars, and I guess it's rotten dope. Anyhow, I've chased 'em~off my section, so it's up to you."

It was the work of a.minute for mc to pull down the ear-flaps of my cap, don a mackinaw coat, lock the office, and set off at a jog trot down the well trodden trail.

For the first two miles of the grade my station gangs, were hard at" work, and the foremen told mc laughingly that they had seen no sign of '''hooch" 6ince they were in town, and didn't want to, either, since' it would demoralize their men and spoil a likely contract.

Another half mile of walking brought me.to" Larsenfs cut," a rather important contract that included a deep rock, cut and the filling in of a gap of running -water—one of -the most 'expensive forms, of construction. The eight of

the gang, standing idle at the dump, caused mc to hasten my steps until I reached them. They were surrounding three- Finns laden with bulky pack sacks, certainly most villainous looking representatives of their country. The trio were obviously my quarry,.so I went up-to thenl "Off my work, boys!" I ordered. "There's a big fine herabouts for peddling liquor." , . . The.three Finns feigned ignorance of the English language, but .Larsen turned on mc with a growl. " Dis ban my bit o' work, boss."

"Yes; but it's Maitland's territory," I retorted, " and I represent him for the time being. Also, Larsen, the engineer will give you a mighty tight estimate of work done if he finds you loafing."

Thereupon the men went sullenly back to their work, for the resident engineer is absolute monarch over his seven miles of grade, and his estimate has a great

deal to do with the amount' of stake, money due to the station-gangs on the completion, of their contracts. '.---.-. The Finns' trudged -■" on, well aware that I- was fifty yards or so'-j in -theirrear, and with heavy humour - pauseS repeatedly to point out the beauties of the scenery to one another, vand thus delay my progress. We passed my camp and tramped on beyond it until I had reached and warned the last gang on my camp's grade. Then I hastily retreated to the office and rang up Camp Three. Repeated • rings elicited no response, and I was* about to hang up the receiver when a cheery voice hailed mc.

"That you, old boy? Allen speaking —from your Camp One. I'm just coming over to sing a fewhymns with you and preach one of my rotten sermons. Sha'n't be more than a couple of hours. Toodle-oo!"

Then the cook came in with a tale of woe. about his assistants, and I was kept occupied for half an hour—-a very valuable thirty minutes, it later transpired —before the " walking boss " hailed mc from his. cutter. An irascible old fellow was Bradbury, though and loved him. l> The loss of a leg, an 1 arm, and an eye in three separate premature explosions in no way affected his vitality or staying power. "Jump in, Tom!" he bellowed to mc. " There's vermin on the pike, Molloy tells mc." And, growling oaths, he lashed up his horse and we glided away through the frosty air. As we topped the rise of a portage before swooping down on to a frozen lake, Brad.'s single but very ; efficient eye saw things in the distance that caused his' curses to become more vehement. ;

" They've done their rotten work!" he roared. ,

We sped swiftly across the lake-head on to a deep sand cut that was being excavated by a gang of thirty Scandinavians. Of these, two only urere now sober, and were seated in the snow smoking unconcernedly. Fully a dozen of the remainder were engaged in a drunken combat that was too haphazardly aimless to be really harmful! Others sprawled-where they had fallen, singing and weeping. One man lay with his head over . a water hole chopped through-the ice. He was dead. Another sat by the trail groaning in agony, his face rapidly changing colour. He died later.

At the camp the scene beg*ared description.

It seemed incredible that these powerful fellow's—conscientious workers to a man—could be reduced to such a decree of childish inanity, by the consumption of just as much liquor as the three Finns could carry in their pack sacks.

. Yells that -would shame a mass meeting of-hungry coyotes, mingled with the smashing of glass, assailed our ears as we entered the main bunk house. A bottle crashed against' the side of the crude log building and splintered at our feet.

Peering through the hazy atmosphere, foetid with the fumes of plug tobacco and the pungent odour of wood alcohol, we saw fully forty men of various nationalities using up their drunken energies. Some were dancing with elephantine agility and scant success lo an accompaniment supplied by those of. a, more sporting. nature, who were throwing, bottles at the stove at so much per hit. At the far end of the room a seething mob battled impotently with One ; another," impartially dealing - out

feeble drugged-blows at everyone and everything that chanced to- come within, their reach. _7 " They'll be all right in the morning," grunted the walking boss grimly. ,? You go on up to the office, Tom: Get the clerk and keep an eye on the tunnel, while I push on to headquarters." '-•••-• -For once old Bradbury's handling of the situation fell just a little'short of the mark. Had there been better opportunity to investigate, it would have transpired that about a" .score of men were missing from the camp. A few jnoments' further thought might have reminded : him that these same men formed a gang employed on a very difficult contract, upon which such trifling headway, was being made-'that its members faced a penniless exodus. They had become a source of anxiety to Mr".. Ma itland.' A year's labour, with no monetary return forthcoming, is cause enough for disquietude, but' these men —Montenegrins, I believe—had refused to complete their contract at a guaranted daily wage, and had for some time been deliberately doing, their utmost' to hold up the work. It was not until I reached the office and found that the - clerk had been locked inside it that the foregoing facts came to my mind. Failing to release him, I made my way to the tunnel. It was not difficult to- locate the missing men! A medley of shouts sounded hollowly from the cavernous depths; at the mouth a man staggered backwards and forwards over some invisible object. Away above the tunnel, where the hill rose steep and snow-clad, I saw something long and dark slide downwards with' incredible speed.

Few would have connected - young Allen, the padre in embryo, with lightning decisions and a thoughtless courage. His trail from Camp.One led him to the

summit., of the tunnel,, where he paused •for a-.breathing .space, tpjadmire the vast panorama of pine-sentinelled' solitude that stretched for countless leagues before him.- ".-" L. .■■'• .- • ; .'■- -' • -' '"" .'" Allen turned like a shot; and looked'in astonishment at the white, scared face, of a small man l who suddenly appeared from behind a boulder. 7 '"They're plumb,: ravin''mad; boss," the newcomer went oh shakily.7 '" ' "Who are?" asked Allen,-, with a dim consciousness of .having, seen. this man before. . "," ', 7 " "Them fellers down there, boss. They got loaded with 'moonshine,' locked up the .clerk, an' chased mc up here. I'm the cook. They've parked a bunch of dynamite in the tunnel, an' it's Kingdom Come for the whole, blamed outfit if they set it goin'."

Allen's gaze followed- the direction of the little cook's finger and, to his horror, saw the stumbling, shouting mass of labourers entering the tunnel with their last load of explosives. Suddenly a figure ran from the vicinity of the office and dashed into the tunnel ahead of them. It was myself, and Allen immediately leapt to action. His alert brain gathered what mine had overlooked — that the figure staggering uncertainly to and fro over some obscure object, was a half-crazed fellow who was attempting to light the fuse prematurely!

The actual trail to the tunnel-mouth from where Allen stood was roundabout and meandering, having been shaped thus to avoid rocks, stumps of trees, and a too-steep descent..7.The path that his eye followed was short and precipitous to the' verge of suicide, but he took it!

Precisely what he. had in mind,. I 'shall never knoWj but five ' precious * minutes would have been wasted by taking the beaten trail, whereas—well, drink-3odden as was that staggering workman below, i.any second-might find, the. fuse alight and many lives in desperate' jeopardy. In a flash Allen tore a jack-knife from his pocket and snapped it open. With his left hand he. turned his sleigh over, at'the same time slashing at the straps that bound his baggage to it. A further second's.effort freed the dogs; then Allen righted his "toboggan," and breathing a prayer, flung himself upon it face downward and pushed off towards what appeared to be the nearest way to the next world—a clear, straight path of frozen snow that ended abruptly. . Slowly at first, and then, as the frail craft gathered headway, faster and yet faster the undergrowth flashed by. The padre told mc afterwards that he seemed to lose all sense of everything but the thrill of that mad ride. It became a speed at which the slightest obstruction would have crushed a man to pulp; a meteoric rush that reduced the passing surroundings to an indistinct blur of black and white. His tautened body flattened | against the framework, numb to the: stinging hurricane with which the still, frosty air met him. A yawning chasm came up to meet him at terrific speed: His mind intent upon such work as might lay ahead of him. he wa3 yet conscious of the wonderful thrill of the dive as he found himself in mid-air, plunging madly to earth.

Snow is remarkably soft stuff provided there is enough of it and it is not too well packed. Fortunately for Allen, during the past winter months the snow that had not, drifted j and accumulated on the side of the right-of-way had been 'shovelled' there to keep the track clear,

and deep into the midst of this heaped white _mass dived the preacher- and his trusty toboggan. Scrambling hurriedly out and clearing his eyes of snow, he dashed full-tilt at the staggering foreigner outside the tunnel and sent him spinning. For a few frantic seconds he searched for the fuse —to discover, with something akin to horror, a charred line that told him the deadly thing had been lighted for some moments, and was now well on its wav to its mission of death!

J A confused babel of sound echoed along ithe tunnel and,- totally regardless of consequences to himself, Allen dashed into the pitch-blackness. A hundred yards of progress over broken rock brought him to.a slight curve in the great vault; the voices sounded deafening in his ears, and he heard my own raised in futile reasoning with the gang. He crashed into one of the men, cursed, and ran on.

"For heaven's sake, light no more matches, boys!" I heard him call out, and then: "Are you there, Tom?" I.responded, and there came one of those sudden queer silences that sometimes break in upon a tremenedous din. During this silence at least two of us heard something that fairly chilled our hearts —the crackling of the fuse close to us! . .

At that moment somebody lit another match, and it's light disclosed what Allen had most dreaded —a pile of boxes marked "dynamite" packed closely together with tins containing black powder. Even as I looked aghast at the deadly stuff, the flickering flame of the fuse appeeared -within a few inches of the topmost box, spluttering fiercely towards the detonator attached to its end!

Allen made a gallant attempt to reach the flame and put it out with his fingers, but his frozen moccasins slipped and he fell back heavily. For the first time the men seemed to take in the situation and their danger, and to a large extent it sobered them up. It afterwards transpired that they were in the tunnel to complete their felonious arrangements for destroying the work, and had not the remotest idea of the drunken freak that had induced one of their number to light the fuse prematurely.

Again Allen leapt at the pile of boxes, and I rushed to assist him, but by this time the flame was out of sight to those who stood by. The padre obtained foot and hand;hold and forged frantically ahead, inch by inch.

The tension was awful! Would there' be time—just the necessary few seconds?

One . of -the men had madly flung a piece of rock at the fuse, when ah amazing'thing'happened: ' "The heat from the burning fuse had reached the extreme end of an icicle that hung from the tunnel's roof—just reached it, that was all; but it was sufficient, to melt the ice to, the extent of a few drops of water that fell full- upon the flame. and extinguished it. with a sharp,', hiss! * The three Finnish poison-peddlers,-un-fortunately, were never brought to justice, even though a of police from Port Arthur investigated the matter. As for.the mutinous Montenegrin station-gang, they v "hit the trail" that same evening only just' in time to miss a likely-looking bunch of stalwarts I that Bradbury had recruited from the | headquarter Camp to deal with them, the | clerk having escaped from the office and | warned the old "walking-boss."

Young Allen -actually apologised for "butting-in," as he called it, andhe also headed for town that evening. Not many months afterwards the war intervened, and severed my connection with the outposts of Canada, so that I have neither seen nor heard of him since; but I can sincerely echo the words of a small boy in a certain delightful book: "He is a very worthy man. I trust- he is a bishop by now."