Читать книгу Larry of Lonesome Lake - Harold Bindloss - Страница 12

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Alice cooked supper by a driftwood fire. Lawrence had wanted to do so and declared she was his guest, but she refused, and he admitted that she was a better cook than he. In fact, since he had enjoyed as good a meal some time had gone.

"Then you certainly are not an epicure," Alice remarked.

"The important thing is, I'm a rancher. A rancher does not waste on cooking time that might be more usefully employed. At Qualichan we are a remarkably industrious and frugal lot."

Alice reflected that he had wanted to give her his pocketbook; but since she would sooner he talked, she inquired if the frugality of the woodsmen were forced. Lawrence said it was, unless one were rich; and he imagined a rich man would like a softer job. When one had bought one's block of virgin forest, one engaged a chopper, and began to cut the trees. In a year, or perhaps two years, one sent off the hired man and bought two oxen. For some time the oxen ate all the hay one could grow, but one went on chopping, the cleared belt got wider, and when the oxen could not use all the crop, one bought a few cattle. He ought to state that the animals needed hay only in winter. In summer they got their food in the bush, and when one wanted the team, to find the brutes was usually a long day's job.

"But, so far, you have sold nothing. All you have done is spend money," Alice observed.

"That is so," Lawrence agreed. "You must build up the herd, and its increase is measured by the food you can grow. In the meantime, you get from the bank the smallest possible sum for groceries and clothes, and go on chopping. By the time your money's gone you hope your livestock will support you."

"But what about the men who have not a bank roll?"

"They take a job for a few months in summer, on the railroad or at a sawmill. Then, on the whole, the Government is generous. They must not subsidize the rancher, but roads help the Province's advance, and if your member of parliament knows his business, he gets you an appropriation. In some circumstances, the Government pays you to make a road to your ranch, or perhaps to nowhere, and they'll pay you to build a schoolhouse for your children. You choose your foreman, and for a month or two picnic in the wilds. Then you start for home, and go on chopping."

"Are there women in the valley where your ranch is?"

"Two, all the time," said Lawrence. "Another comes and goes. Mrs. Loudon was a Toronto school-mistress. She's thoroughbred, and George Loudon is hiyu Tyee, which is much the same thing as pukka Sahib. Perhaps you have noted that a catch-phrase you can't properly translate carries your meaning better than precise English. Mrs. Colman was a Lancashire dairymaid; I think you will like her. Mrs. James, I believe, helped at a tobacco store on Hastings, Vancouver, and when James goes to make roads she starts for the cities. Since she visits with friends, she argues it's as cheap as stopping at the ranch. James, however, reckons his road-making pay is mainly used for steamer tickets and city clothes. Now you know all I know about the ladies of Qualichan."

Alice thought his remarking that she would like Mrs. Colman strange. She imagined he pondered, and studied the sky; but she began to talk about something else, and by and by he built a sort of hut with a few spruce branches and slabs of bark.

At sunset she went on board, and when she had lighted the candle lamp, looked about with a queer touch of regret. The little white cabin was clean and homelike; when she wandered about with the Lacoste show she had known worse lodgings. In fact, now she thought about it, she had been happy on board the sloop. All the same, she must not occupy the neat folding cot another night.

When she put out the light and pushed up the skylights she smelt the pines and salt weed on the rocks. The wind in the trees was soothing and sometimes musical ripples splashed. She hoped Lawrence was not cold; he had refused to take a blanket and had carried off a sail. She speculated about him drowsily, and in ten minutes was asleep.

At six o'clock in the morning he shouted and asked her to light the pressure stove. He was going to look out from the top of the rocks and when he got back they must push off. They got breakfast in the cockpit. The morning was dark, and for the Pacific slope in summer, cold. Lawrence said the wind blew across the inland ranges' snow.

"Since it has backed round, the weather will not be good," he added. "Our food, however, is nearly gone, and since I'm afraid we cannot beat up the strait, I think we ought to run for Qualichan Sound. By and by we might put you on board a returning Alaska tourist boat. In the meantime, I expect Mrs. Loudon would be glad to receive you."

Alice doubted. A third-class variety actress was not the guest one welcomed at a Government officer's house. For all that, she imagined Lawrence knew where his boat could, and could not, go. Besides, it was not very important. She had taken a rash plunge and must bear the consequences.

"When you invited me on board, you did not know all you undertook," she said.

"Oh, well, so far, we have had rather a jolly cruise, and if our luck is good, I expect to make Qualichan in the afternoon. Now you might put up the plates and jamb all fast. Pull down the cabin skylights and fix the locking pins."

Alice thought the orders ominous, and when they were carried out she saw Lawrence lash the big oar and topsail yard on deck, roll up and tie the mainsail's foot, and test the pump.

"You will soon need the slicker coat," he said. "In fact, if you have some thick clothes—"

"I have not," said Alice dryly. "The stuff in my hold-all is not the stuff one could wear on board a boat."

Lawrence got busy. The reefed mainsail went half-way up the mast, and a small storm jib fluttered at the bowsprit's end. He loosed a rope, and when the sloop was head to wind jumped on the rocks for another. The boat began to drift, and for an anxious moment or two Alice imagined she would be carried out to sea. Then, with a swift running jump, he crashed on deck, and swore.

"I'm sorry," he gasped when he got up.

"Oh, don't!" said Alice. "If you must apologize, you might invent another formula."

She began to laugh. After all, she had borne some strain, and when she thought him left behind, loneliness as much as the risk of shipwreck had daunted her. Although she had but known him for two rather eventful days, she had unconsciously come to reckon on his protection. Now she did not know where she went. All in front, like the sky and sea, was dark. She was being blindly forced along, and since she dared not weep, to laugh was some relief.

Eddying gusts carried them round the point; and then, in open water, Pathfinder swung along, with a measured lift and plunge, before the charging seas. Their white tops surged up on her quarter, sped forward, and crashed by the mast; the little reefed mainsail swelled and tossed; for a moment the sloop seemed to stop, and then leaped ahead. Lawrence balanced on the coaming, his eyes fixed on the spinning compass; Alice crouched in the cockpit and was thankful for his coat.

They drove past an indistinct island, and she saw pine branches toss in thin rain and mist; and then the seas got angrier and Lawrence shouted something about a tide-rip. Spray beat Alice's bent head, and water rolled about the deck. Some sluiced across the ledge, water streamed from the mainsail's foot, and when the sloop plunged, the little jib was buried half-way up.

"Get into the cabin," Lawrence shouted. "When you are in, fasten the door."

"I will not," Alice gasped. "If I did go, I'd be deadly sick. Besides if we are going to capsize, I'd sooner be on deck."

Lawrence laughed. His legs were across the ledge, and she saw the water drain from his clothes. Well, she had his slicker, and could she have persuaded him, she dared not give it up. She was not seasick, but she was horribly cold and cramped. For some time she had been getting tired and slack.

They crossed the tide-rip, and Lawrence hove Pathfinder to. When her bows swung round, a white sea leaped on board; and then the backed jib stopped her, and for a few minutes she plunged smoothly while Lawrence labored at the pump. When he stopped, Alice, getting up awkwardly, seized the lever, but a lurch flung her across the narrow floor, and shaken by the knock, she crawled as far as possible under the side deck. Lawrence pulled the lashing from the tiller, and they again drove ahead.

About two o'clock, rocks loomed in the mist, and when they ran behind the point the water got smooth, although savage gusts beat the pines and angry ripples splashed the boat. Lawrence hove her to and jumped from the coaming.

"Now we must get some food," he said.

Alice hated to move. She was wet and cold, and somehow lifeless, but she crawled from under the deck and with shaking hands began to cut a meat can. Lawrence took the can from her and started the blast stove. Where the oilskin coat stopped, her thin clothes were soaked, and he thought her skin very white. The girl had had enough, but she was not beaten and she meant to help. He carried the food to the cockpit where he could look about. Alice did not eat much, but she drained a can of hot coffee, and would not allow him to help her put away the stuff.

"Next stop's Qualichan Sound," he said, and pulling the jib to leeward, started the boat. "We ought to get there about six o'clock."

"So long as we land," said Alice, "I don't mind where you go."

The island vanished, and by and by tremendous rain beat down the sea and the wind almost dropped. Then the clouds rolled back, and a cold, savage blast swept a wide belt of frothing white across the water.

"Northwest!" said Lawrence. "Half-way round the clock, and it will be a tight jamb to fetch Qualichan Head in one tack. Stick close under the side deck. We are going to get wet!"

He lowered the centerboard, and Alice saw him laboriously haul the main sheet. For two or three hours that was all she saw for the water that poured across the ledge. Well, she could not get wetter, and she vaguely understood that the sloop was now going to windward, and the steersman must fight for every yard he won. She felt the combers that burst across the bows stop the quivering hull, and she felt the sweeping, sickening plunge.

At length the turmoil suddenly stopped, and Alice, getting up, leaned slackly against the ledge. High rocks towered above the sloop, and only wrinkled tide eddies disturbed the smooth green channel. The sloop drifted round a point, and where dark pines rolled down to the beach she saw a long wooden house and grotesque carved heads on a totem pole. In the background, green water, ruffled in places by the wind, curved away and vanished behind forest-covered hills.

Lawrence dropped anchor and lowered sail. Short, brown-skinned men, like Chinese, launched a canoe, and when he had talked with them for a few minutes he touched Alice.

"There's not much use in our trying to beat up channel, and when we get round the hill we'll find the wind blowing straight down. Only a bushman could shove through the woods, and the Indians will lend us a canoe."

They got on board. Lawrence and a Siwash paddled; Alice crouched—crouched was the proper word—on the spruce branches at the bottom of the canoe, and heavy rain began to fall. Two miles up the curving channel, they met the savage wind, and the water was beaten white. For all the men's labor, the canoe went astern, but crossing to the other shore, they crept back behind a point. At the point they used their poles, and Alice imagined Lawrence pulled off most of his clothes. The rain beat his shirt against his skin, he gasped and strained, but they crept round the point and resumed the paddles.

Dark rocks and misty forest rolled, very slowly, back; sometimes for four or five minutes the men fought hard to hold the canoe where she was. Alice had not thought men could labor like that; but they went up channel. At length, tall trees cut the wind, and they ran the canoe on a gravel bank not far from a house in a clearing surrounded by giant pines. Lawrence took her bundle and they followed a path across an orchard. When they reached the veranda steps Alice hesitated. Her shabby clothes were soaked, her hat had got soft and shapeless, and her shoes were full of water.

She felt she dared not front the strangers whom Lawrence must invite to be her hosts, but she was horribly cold and exhausted. Tremendous rain beat the woods and the light began to go.

She went up the steps. The house was dark and all was quiet. Lawrence beat on the door and went round to the back. When he rejoined Alice he knitted his brows.

"It's awkward!" he remarked. "Nobody is about, and the doors are fast. I expect the Loudons have gone up river and taken their China boy for a camp servant. The Siwash talked about some strangers seizing their fishing grounds and breaking their salmon traps. George has perhaps gone up to investigate—"

"In short, we cannot get in?" said Alice. "When will your friends be back?"

"George might be four or five days. I am sorry."

Alice leaned slackly against the rails and began to laugh, a jarring, dreary laugh. Lawrence stopped her.

"Brace up! I'll break in and start the stove. Mrs. Loudon has generally a good stock of food and you can cook for yourself. Then you might use her clothes until yours are dried. She's a first-class sort, and I don't suppose she'd mind. In the morning I'll run across and see if you're all right."

Alice looked about and shivered. The Indians had gone, and the woods were getting dark. She was exhausted, but she dared not front the night in the strange, lonely house. Besides, in a few days she must front its proper occupant.

"I think not," she said. "Women are not remarkably trustful, and I doubt if a Government officer's wife would like me for her guest. In fact, if she found you had lodged in her house a girl you had casually picked up on your excursion, she might be much annoyed. Then Mr. Loudon might not approve your breaking his door. What about your friend the dairymaid?"

"Colman's ranch is four or five miles up the valley, and the trail's a bush trail. I might harness my bulls to the jumper sledge; but if they're rambling in the woods, I could not find the brutes in the dark. If you will not stop at Loudon's, you must go to my ranch, and I'll camp in the barn. I don't see another plan."

"I do not," said Alice. "If I camp on your friends' veranda, I'll probably freeze. When you invited me on board your yacht your object perhaps was good, but only a man could have dragged me into the horrible entanglement. Now you must pay for your rashness."

Lawrence said nothing. He seized her bundle and when he gave her his hand she went, rather unsteadily, down the steps.