That Christmas at Peace Haven.

Evening Post, Volume LXXXVI, Issue 149, 20 December 1913, Page 13

That Christmas at Peace Haven.

By DB. WILFRED T. GRENFELL. [Ail Rights Reserved.]

The trouble with that ' particular Christmas was that it came after such' a " total blank " in out fisheries that, far from expecting Santa Claus, some of our folks., it was absolutely certain, would be looking out for "a. bit o' loaf." The salmon fishers in the bay hadn't more than a hundred tierce among them, and British Columbian salmon had moreover cut the price on the commodity. Our beautiful trout were temporarily a drug in tho market, and had hardly paid the cost of salt and cooperage. Not a deer had come to the landwash to help out fchd larder, and, owing to the necessity of devoting every moment to the fishery, the usual time for an early autumn hunt had been ' allowed to slip by. , The only ' plentiful creatures in the country had seemed to be the mice- and lemmings. .But that fact argued ill for our last resource — the fur-trapping, for foxes won't come out into the country if the]} can get food on the inside, and marten and minks won't take bait when there is no need for them to run risks. Yet when I ran into Peaco Haven in th© late autumn to leave ,a bo* of suppb'es for the Doctor on his winter journeys, yon/ never would have thought there was anything .but the jolliest of Christmases ahead for, the good people

winds which make life on the islands and even on tho outer land almost unbearable. Some of the families had been lucky enough to strike a herd of caribou and had secured a supply of venison. But among these fortunate ones was neither of my straitened friends, Jaker and Tom. They were " furring " together — that is, they shared the same fur " path " and halved all they caught, an arrangement due to the small number of traps either could afford to purchase. It' had come Tom's turn to visit the "path." The snow was now lying deep on the ground, and the nosa and ears of even a well-fed man needed careful tending in that atmosphere Tom was ort half rations, and "dry flour ain't much to start a day's work on." But clad in the best he could find to keep out the, weather he started on his long tramp. Mile after mile went by. Trap after trap was examined, but always the same tale repeated itself : the trap wad frozen over or drifted over, but there was never a sign of a living animal nigh any of them. < On and on he plodded till he had reached the farthest trap "tailed." Lo and behold !it was gone, and not a sign to be seen of it. There was a layer of young snow on the ground, hiding even the most recent tracks, the light wind that was blowing having drifted, them all over. Poor Tom was weak from want of good food and worn out from the journey. This final

Fortunately for Tom it was a handicap race all around. The fox, flying for its life, had to drag the heavy trap on its leg. It was stumbling and falling scarcely less frequently than Tom. Already the goal was in view, and it seemed as though the fox as well as the mart' recognised the winning post, and each was straining everpr muscle to get an advantage. Now the man would gain till the slip of a snowshoe in the rapidly increasing incline or a stumble from* carelessness and' exhaustion again made him lose ground. Now the trailing trap, catching in a snag,, would bring up the fox for a second with a round turn and it would lose time snarling and biting at its encumbrance. A couple of hundred yards ahead loomed the tangled j labyrinth ,of great rocks, torn by the iron frost from the massive peak that formed the summit of the hill, a huge moraine with endless rocky fortresses', from any one. of which the fugitive could bark defiance' ,at its enemy. On the whole, .the man was gaining, but not fast enough' to give him the victory, and, without reahsing it, the fact was telling against . him. At this moment a new element entered into the situation. A clear glimpse of the fox betrayed the dark, glossy coat of a "black silver." This is the prize of the North. With its capture the trapper not only wins his knightly spurs, but also money enough to keep him without fear of want for many a day to come. Here was a man half fed, and half Clad, his loved ones perishing by inches for the want of mere necessities, and here almost in his hands ' but yet slipping from his grasp were food, clothing, rest from anxiety — all he needed to make life contented. A madman is said to be capable of ! sudden superhuman feats of strength, the ill control of his nerve impulses making it possible for him to let every reserve go at the same moment. As Tom told me the story, afterwards there was only one explanation of what happened. He must have gone mad. All he remembers is that something, he doesn't know what, shot him forward up that last incline like an arrow from a bow. He recalls that somehow his snowshoes did not hold as the angle of the hill became too steep, but in 'spite of this on he Went. He remembers the fox, as it got into the mouth of a great cleft, turning and yelping at him^ and that with one big jump he flung himself bodily towards it. And then oblivion, i When Tom came to himself it wa|| night. At firat he forgot where- he was. He was miserably cold, his head was dizzy and aching, he was in the open, lying on snow. As he stretched out one hand it touched something cold, A chain ! What could a chain be doing there? Then suddenly it all flashed, back into bis mind : the misery at home, the tramp, the lost trap, the struggle. ,But the fox — where was the fox? He tried to rise, but could not. So he crawled up on his feet against the face of the big rock and stood for a moment swaying in the moon light. Then dropping on his knees in the snow he groped' in under the rock in an agony of unspoken supplication to find if possibly the fox might still be there. Nothing but snow and rock met his touch. He listened, but no sound could be heard. The fox must have slipped the trap while he was unconscious or perhaps gnawed itself free. Giddiness was overcoming him and the night wafs getting darker. He was too weak to hope to get home, and once more he sank down into his old pla<3e on the snow. Ugh ! what « was that? The chain again. He tore at it in mad- anger, but it would not move, ( He seized it both hands, and in' senseless rage flung his weight into th© strain. It gave slowly.- It was fast to something. The trap of course. Why hadn't he thought of that? .At last it should deceive no one else. He would hurl it into this rocky fastness where no one could 'ever find it. But even as it ,came a great heap of snow came with it, and flinging his arms around it Tom once more rose from his knees as he prepared to hurl it from him. But what was this? The snow was soft in his arms, yet it certainly was hard in lumps. Something was projecting from the mass. A stick? No, it was hairy. Once more he reeled and fell on the snow as he realised that he held in his arms the dead body of the precious fox. Exactly what followed is very hazy in his memory. Something had made him stronger; he supposes it was the unconquerable determination to tell the good news. - At first he pictured himself going straight home and opening the door

when he set • out. Only because it was as bad to stay as to go, had she consented. She had persuaded him not to carry lub gun. It was too heavy for him to carry on such a long round ; and then, too, she needed it to fire as a signal to him if he were delayed after dark. They all said there was no use in it, as there was not a rabbit around; and beside all the coast knew that Mark Gulliver had shot himself a -year or two ago when his Tamily were starving. Now she was glad she had , kept it. She'd go over and see Jake. He would certainly know where to look for Tom, oven if night had overtaken him. And Jake would go anywhere at any time for anybody — much more for Tom. Bertie and Johnny were given a rather larger piece of bread thari usual, with the merest smear of molasses. There had been no kerosene for a light for weeks, and sleep kept them from thinking of hunger. Only half satisfied, the children had cried themselves to sleep in their deep wooden bunks before she locked the door and slipped over to Jake's house. "Said he'd be back early, did he?" said Jake in his kindly way, as poor Elsie explained her fears to him. "Well, sure it's early yet if it is a bit dark. But I 'lows he's changed his mind, and is going to sleep in a tilt to-night." "But he "promised he wouldn't," she urged. "He promised, hit or miss, he wouldn't leave me alone to-night. I can't bear it, Jake. ; If he doesn't get back by 10 o'clock I'm going to ask Jessie ,to let me bring the boys over. I must go after him. I can't stay here and he perishing." "He won't perish,, lass," Jake answered. "There's a thousand things as -'ud make him stay on the path." "I tell you, Jake, he's in trouble. 1 know it as sure as I am standing here. If he isn't^back by 10, may I bring Bertie and Johnny over?" "Yes, and welcome,", Jake answered. "But if it comes to going, why, you'd better let me go." "No, nO," she replied; "I know the way the path runs, and if anyone can find him I can." The' cheap wooden t clock still pointed to far from 10 when once - more Elsie triidged over to Jake's with one boy bundled in her arms and the other trotting beside her. Though Jake himself was all ready there was, no dissuading Elsie from going also. "Jake," she said, "I'm sure something's wrong with Tom. I heard him ; he's out on the snow and he wants me! I've got some bread here and a little bit of tea. There's nothing else in the house now." And unbidden tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of the little she could give the husband of her love if she did find him. "Don't fret, lass," said Jake. "I've put in a small bottle of molasses. 'Tis a pity there be no fat." And seeing she was determined to go he said no more, but started' out with her. It was getting light before they had visited, their one ten-mile tilt, only to find it empty. Fortunately there was no wind, so when they reached the spot where 'the last trap had been ''"tailed*" >they had a complete riddle written in the snow to solve. Jake's keen wits soon read it rightly. ' ' "T' trap's got lost," he said, "and Tom's bin a long -time looking for un. Come on. We'll soon find him." Another mile following his tracks, and they found another and fresher trail crossing it. "It's all right, Elsie lass. That's Tom coming back again. Us needn't follow 'round. Us'll follow the new track." The new trail was far from being straight, and at the end of almost hall a>' mile showed evidence of a struggle arid a fall. "Just tripped on his shoes," said ■ Jake, and passed on without stopping, i "Why did he wander about so?"' asked sElsie aftef another period of' silence. "Why, he walked rigjit into the tuckamores here !" "Oh, it was dark, I 'low," answered Jake cheerily. "It's terrible hard' to go straight in the dark. You just shut your eyes and try. The only trouble is I can't make out what he's aiming ,for. Beckon L'll climp the knoll while you rests yourself a bit." And without more ado he started off up the rocky piece of hill. On returning he said briefly,: "T' general 'line is towards t' green rudge. I thought maybe he'd gone for the tilt there. Anyhow, it's time vs 4 cooked a kettle if us wants to keen going. Though hunger and weariness and self were, far enough from Elsie's mind Jake

around the little harbour. The patriarch of the place. Uncle Joe,' expressed the general good sense by, ,saying: "Well, youse sees, Doctor, troubles hutts just that much less if you don't go out to meet them till they comes after you." '* Now it so happened that Jake Kelson's little boy was' eick, and so Jake had corns some two miles across the' Mils from a neighbouring harbour fof help. "I seed t'smoke, Doctor, as you rounded Fishing Point Head," ho said, " and t' ole woman thought maybe you'd come over and see our Jakie." It was late before we reached his house, and only just not too late for Jakie. "It will mean staying here for tho night, and perhaps taking Jakie away with us to-morrow," I said to the anxious man. "Can you give me a shakedown?" " 'Deed us can, Doctor. T' ole woman'll fix up t' room for you." They had only dry bread and tea with a drop of molasses for supper, and I had omitted to. put anything'but medical supplies into my " nonny bag." " It's only poor far© us can offer you," Jake apologised., " But it's hard times t' year." "As long as you have enough flour not to starve and can get some fat you'll be all right, Jake, till the ducks come south. Perhaps you can kill a deer, too." ' "That's just t' trouble," replied my host. "We're on our last barrel now, and land knows where, t' next barrel is to come from; Mt, Roper have shut up t' store at t' harbour for t' winter. He says he Can't afford to give credit, and fee 'lows us won't be getting anything to buy un with." Noticing just then that on his window sill was an empty pipe, I handed him my tobacco pouch. The smile which, spread over his face repaid me for the " fill " and for the half-pound more which I later sent over from the ship's stock. A couple of curly-headed youngsters of four and five were on the floor, playing with two old cotton spools in absolute contentment. As we sat; 1 in silence, puffing at our pipes, my thoughts went a-wing, - and from the heights I seemed to get a view of all men as children, forgetting the higher joys of manhood in playing with toys, and it made me wish to help my fellow in distress. I was brought back from the clouds by a knock at the door. On opening it there stood a man with a large tin baking-pan in his, hand. He seemed confused at seeing a stranger in the house, and after toying with the pan for a minute, was evidently about to beat a retreat. I " Come in, Tom!" called out my host. " 'Tis only t' (Doctor. Come right in." . ■ Tom closed the door ' and ' came forward somewhat sheepishly to shake hands. Meanwhile, without a word having passed between them, Jake rose, and, seizing tho baking-pan, placed it near his last barrel of flour, from which he proceeded to fill it " chock-a-block." As ne returned and gave it to its owner I noticed the same l«nd of look light up Tom's face as I had previously ' seen on my host's. When Tom had gone Jake tried to excuse his soft-heartedneas by saying first that it? was " only a loan " ; but he spoiled that statement by adding : "One baking more or less won't make much difference." ■ We turned in soon after, and I found no difficulty in diagnosing that my needy friend slept more soundly than I. A heavy nor'-easter, with fog outside, kept mo in Peace Haven another day. J was soon satisfied that, however good my intention, it was far beyond my capacity adequately to relieve the situation. What I aivl my men could do v.as cheerfully done, hut when we came io "et uo our anchor for sailing I felt bct'Ty over oven the few guns the good)i ear ted folks fired to give us a ' send oIV /of I knew' how scarce powder was and r-hat each discharge might mean a diick less for the cooking-pot. By the first of December the members of the little community were almost at their wits' end to know what to do for hod. They had all moved up tho bay now to thsir winter cottages, to get the protection of the trees from ifes

disappointment seemed to take the last bit of grit! out of him. The trap had been, "tailed," as Tpm knew, on the top of an old stump, which they > had fixed in a, very narrow- part of the pathway. The stump had been selected to keep> the trap from being snowed deeply under. If only he could find* the stump he might 'be able to get some clue as to the whereabouts of his trap. Pulling himself together he staggered on in search of it. "Twice he came back on his tracks before, just under the surface of' the snow his foot struck the stump. Lying down land blowing away the dry, powdery snow he was able to make out three things : First, the trap had gone, chain and all; second, it was a fox which had taken it away; and, third, it had gone within twenty-four hours. But where was it gone, and could he find it? 1 On every side could be seen snow, snow, nothing but snow, except that here and there a few green tops of some scant spruce trees which we call " tuckamore" peeped out;" The excitement of the hope bred of the knowledge of his find had almost made a new man of Tom. He tried every art he knew to guide him as to the way to go. But, after starting in all four directions, and circling round and round with the post as ,a centre, he became weary and disheartened and felt that he must give it up. , Already night was coming on.> What would be the use of even a silver fox to him if he perished in getting it ? He was cold and hungry, and he had already drawn heavily on his • reserve of strength. Why struggle against such odds any longer? . He had almost turned to strike out for horn when , the vision of .'his two curly-haired ' lads crying with hunger, and the sad face of his young wife rose to vividly before him that he turned once again and blindly renewed thej quest. Heading for the nearest clumps of tuekamore he carefully examined, the ground all about/ but found no signs. He started off afresh, closely scrutinising "drogue" after "drogue," as we call these! clumps of trees. On and on he .wandered until suddenly a white mark like a fresfr trail blaze low down on a. younger fir caught his watchful eye. A .closer examination showed that the bark had been notched by some sharp instrument, and in a moment more he was certain that an, animal carrying a trap had been "seeking shelter in the thicket. But there was none there now, and which way • was he „to go ? The land to to the north was steep\ rising to a jagged Wilderness of high, "pinnacled rocks. To the southard it • fell away in a long level slope to a- large lake. The chances were all ■in favour ,of the fox having sought tho shelter ot, the rocks. But there was no visible track ; it might be' just the wrong direction. The torturing dilemma drove Tom nearly crazy. Without exactly knowing why or even how he got along he began to climb the shoulder of the hill. He hadn't gone more than half a mile, fohen as' he topped the level of a low ridge, he thought he saw away above him on the snow a tiny black speck moving. A second more and he was sure of it. The memory of fatigue, the fear of perishing alone,' everything else in Heaven and earth vanished From his consciousness. There on the hill above and almost within his grasp was the' price of food for his loved ones ; but with every second the' gap was widening. Once the fox gained the craggy summit there would be no hope of getting it. Now began a race for life. Tom was a great vunrter and at any other time the issue would not Have been in doubt for five minutes. But his will had flogged the willing muscles into action to the very limit of their power; their l-esei'Ve was exhausted. Even as he started on the chase one snow-shoe caught in unnoticed snag and he stumbled and fell. When he rose there was dizziness in his head which ' prevented his seeing the speck. But an agony of fear like the prick of a big spur sent him stumbling on once more. Another minute and he again sighted the speck moving away far above hjpi on tbe hillside..

with the fox in his arms. His strength seemed like that of ten as he thought of the look on his wife's face and of the children when they found what it meant to them — no more hunger, no more of the awful anxiety which was worse than hunger. He thought of .Take's joy, and what he would say first. It was Jake who had fed him when he was hungry ; he loved Jake with a man's whole love. Oh ! he could get back all right. Cuddling the fox like a baby he was able to get on his feet and start down the hill. The next thing he remembers was picking himself up out of some tuckamores into' which he had wandered. ,That reminded him ; the tilt,' the mailman's tilt in the "green rudge," could be only a short distance away. 01 course, he couldn't get back home as he was ; he must find shelter till morning. , It was trees he needed — ' trees to protect him. Of course the tilt ! Why hadn't be thought of it before? And once more climbing to his feet he stumbled on into the night, clinging to his precious burden like a drowning man. , Tom's wife Eifie had fesen agiioiia ,

gave her no time to discuss the proposition, and, having carefully marked the spot where he could if necessary strike Tom's trail again, he branched off in the direction of the tilt. Half an hour passed in silence, and then suddenly Jake, who was ahead, gave a joyous shout. "Come along, lass," he said. "Here's his trail and he's surely making for the tilt. Tom'll be main surprised to get visitors out here — if so as he hasn't left again." It seemed only a few minutes before the poles marking the track to the tilt, which was hidden in the dense spruces, came into view. Jake, still ahead, went in without waiting, for the marks of the trail had told him a far more anxious tale than he had cared to admit. Tom was lying face down on the big bed of s*pruce-tips, his arm still around the body of the beautiful silver fox. A blazing file, some hot tea, and a dry loaf to eat made a difference, and chafing his extremities soon brought back animation to his limbs. He had not been ,wet and the depth of the soft spruce bed had afforded him some littlo heat. , Befeis the gegb nighl a.li .th^ee w.ir.e

safely home and the whole village knew that Tom Marvin had caught "a silver." Alas! you can't feed a family on fox meat, and even now that they had good value to exchange for food it was a seri.ous task to get it. The nearest station was a Hudson Bay Company's post a hundred miles away. Almost all the dogs in the village had either died or been shot, as no one had any food for them. But enough half-fed animals were collected to enable Jack and Tom to set out for the Company's post. It was two days' journey with an empty sledge, and it would surely take four days', fcoming back loaded, with the team available and the chances of bad weather. They hoped to drag back at least, three barrels -of flour, with fats and other supplies as well ; ' they were counting on- a thousand pounds,' weight at" the lowest reckoning. That meant the men Would' have to walk every step of the return journey. As soon ,as the skin was dried it was carefully packed, and the two men set out On, their, trip over mountain valleys and arms of tire sea as light-hearted and confident as schoolboys. They were to be back at least a week before Christmas. But the appointed time came and went, and Btill there was no news of the > sledge. It was only four days to Christmas when Uncle Joe sent out a relief party on foot, as there were no more dogs left in the settlement. The growing anxiety of the village was not diminished by the symptoms of still unsatisfied appetite in the children of more than ojie family. The hdpe of a happy, Christmas for them v had almost been abandoned, when, on the morning of the day before Christmas, one of the relief party returned with the joyful news that the sledge was climbing tho last range of hills on the home journey. The enfeebled dogs had been of little or no 'use, and half of them had been sacrificed,to'feed the others. At every uphill the sledge had to be' unloaded and the barrels "rolled up to the top of the long, steep slope. But everything had com© to an end, and before sundown the salvo 'of the last charges of powder in Peace Haven announced the safe return of the expedition. ,' , , No.time was lost in unpacking, and all night was lost in cooking. But at any rate. Elsie and Jessie and all the other good mothers had something ready for the 1 .Day. of days. "It seldom rains but it pours," they say, and it seemed so- in this case. Late in the evening, while the attention of the ' village was ' occupied with their sledge from the north, a noise of shouting and of bells announced the arrival of another team from the south. Before any one could say a word a great team of Eskimo dogs with a driver in Eskimo dress, and a tall, bearded man in furs had drawn up at Uncle Joe's door. "Come right in quick, Doctor^" said the old man. "We're just looking for Santa Glaus, a,nd I don't know but you's him. Come- right in?' And the Doctor promptly went, needing no second invitation after , his long' journey. The plot was soon hatched, Uncle Joe being chief conspirator. "T" box what t' steamer left for in the fall, Doctor— I've got it right here. But of course there'u no knowing what's in un." "Is it very heavy, Uncle Joe?" "Well, now, it is and it ain't. I'm thinkin' there's something beyant tinned meat in he." The box was soon brought in and duly opened. Fortunately I had noticed in Peace Haven, a» in many other places in Labrador, that beyond cotton-reels and other educational but somewhat unsatisfactory substitutes toys were characterised almost entirely by their absence. Here and there a cheap painted effigy coold be seen perched .high up on the wall, well out of reach of 'the children — a precaution probably aB salutary for the doll as for the infant. But I had tried to remember this shortage, and before even a tin of milk appeared a large parcel of toys containing many dolls was discovered. The midnight round of Santa Claus ; the excitement and shouting in the morning J the full meals .at which you might eat all you liked, but of courae couldn't ; the ■ magic-lantern, slides shown by the doctor in the schoolhouse in the evening, are possibly jußt so , manj- > negligible quantities in the economy of the universe. • But they were 'not in the annals of that Christmas in Peace Haven. Joy filled the soul of Bertie as he clasped to his heai't a .new calico cat as tightly as had poor Tom the silver fox ; bliss reigned in ,the heart of Johnny as he strutted from house to house to show his cronies the first "Teddy Bear" that ever braved , the climate of our Northland ; while to the hearts of Jake and his good wife, of Tom and Elsie, of Uncle Joe, and all the grown-ups in the village, not excluding the Doctor and the dogs, to whom an extra portion had been given, came the "salaam" of Him whoso birthday they were keeping— the present which can be given, -but never purchased. , , '