Adrift in the Ice-Fields | Page 6

to a height of
nearly three feet, and a fifth board over the top formed a complete
housing to the whole fabric. La Salle and Kennedy swung the boat until
her bow pointed due east, leaving her broadsides bearing north and
south; and then, excavating a deeper furrow in the hollow between two
hummocks, the boat was slid into her berth, and the broken masses of
icy snow piled against and over her, until nothing but her
covering-board was visible.
A huge pile of decoys stood near, of which about two dozen were of
wood, such as the Micmac Indian whittles out with his curved waghon,
or single-handed draw-knife, in the long winter evenings. He has little
cash to spend for paint, and less skill in its use, but scorches the smooth,
rounded blocks to the proper shade of grayish brown, and, with a little
lampblack and white lead, using his fore-finger in lieu of a brush,

manages to imitate the dusky head and neck with its snowy ring, and
the white feathers of breast and tail.
These rude imitations, with some more artistic ones, painted in profile
on sheet-iron shapes, of life-size, and a few cork-and-canvas "floaters,"
were quickly placed in a long line heading to the wind, which was
north-west, and tailing down around the boat, the southernmost "stools"
being scarce half a gun-shot from the stands.
By the time these arrangements were completed it was nearly midday,
and the sky, so clear in the morning, had become clouded and
threatening. The chilly north-west breeze, which had made the shelter
of their boats very desirable, had died away, and a calm, broken only
by variable puffs of wind, succeeded.
"We shall have rain or snow to-night," remarked La Salle to Kennedy,
who, after a few moments of watching, had curled himself down in the
dry straw, and begun to peruse a copy of the Daily Tribune, his
inseparable companion.
"Yes, I dare say. Greeley says--"
What Greeley said was never known, for at that moment a distant
sound rung like a trumpet-call on the ear of La Salle, and amid the
gathering vapors of the leaden eastern sky, his quick eye marked the
wedge-like phalanx of the distant geese, whose leader had already
marked the long lines of decoys, which promised so much of needed
rest and welcome companionship, but concealed in their treacherous
array nothing but terror and death.
"There they are, Kennedy! Throw your everlasting paper down, and get
your gun ready. Put your ammunition where you can get at it quick; if
you want to reload. Ah, here comes the wind in good earnest!"
A gust of wind out of the north-east whistled across the floes, and the
next moment a thick snow-squall shut out the distant shores, the
lowering icebergs, the decoys of their friends, in fact, everything a
hundred yards away.

"Where are the geese?" asked Kennedy, as, with their backs to the wind,
the two peered eagerly into the impenetrable pouderie to leeward.
"They were about two miles away, in line of that hummock, when the
squall set in. I'll try a call, and see if we can get an answer."
"Huk! huk!" There was a long silence, unbroken save by the whistle of
the blasts and the metallic rattle of the sleety snow:
"Ah-huk! ah-huk! ah--"
"There they are to windward. Down, close; keep cool, and fire at the
head of the flock, when I say fire!" said La Salle, hurriedly, for scarce
sixty yards to windward, with outstretched necks and widespread
pinions, headed by their huge and wary leader, the weary birds, eager to
alight, but apprehensive of unseen danger, swung round to the
south-west, and then, setting their wings, with confused cries, "scaled"
slowly up against the storm to the hindmost decoy.
"Hu-uk! hu-uk!" called La Salle, slowly and more softly.
"Huk! hu-uk!" answered the huge leader, not a score of yards away,
and scarce ten feet from the ice.
"Let them come until you see their eyes. Keep cool! aim at the leader!
Ready!--fire!"
Bang! bang! roared the heavy double-barrel, as the white snow-cloud
was lit up for an instant with the crimson tongues of levin-fire, and the
huge leader, with a broken wing, fell on the limp body of his dead mate.
Bang! growled the ponderous boat-gun, as it poured a sheet of deadly
flame into the very eyes of the startled rearguard.
A mingled and confused clamor followed, as the demoralized flock
disappeared in the direction of the next ice-house, from which, a few
seconds later, a double volley told that Davies and Creamer had been
passed, at close range, by the scattered and frightened birds.

La Salle reloaded, and then leaped upon the ice, and gave chase to the
gander, which he soon despatched, and returning, picked up