Fort Desolation | Page 6

me muskit five times widout firin', an' there was such a row round about that I didn't know the dirty thing had niver wint off till the fifth time, when she bursted into smithereens an' wint off intirely. No wan iver seed a scrag of her after that. An' the worst was, she carried away the small finger of Bob Riley's left hand. Bob threw down his muskit an' ran off the ground howlin', so I picked the wipon up an' blazed away at the inimy; but, bad luck to him, Bob had left his ramrod in, and I sint it right through the flank of an owld donkey as was pullin' an apple and orange cart. Oh! how that baste did kick up its heels, to be sure! and the apples and oranges they was flyin' like--Well, well--the long and the short was, that I wint an' towld the colonel I couldn't stop no longer in such a regiment. So I guv it up an' comed out here."
"And became a fur-trader," said Jack Robinson, with a smile.
"Just so, sur, an' fort-builder to boot; for, being a jiner to trade and handy wid the tools, Mr Murray sent me down here to build the place and take command, but I s'pose I'm suppersheeded now!"
"Well, I believe you are, Teddy; but I hope that you will yet do good service as my lieutenant."
The beaming smile on Teddy's face showed that he was well pleased to be relieved from the responsibilities of office.
"Sure," said he, "the throuble I have had wid the min an' the salvages for the last six weeks--it's past belavin'! An' thin, whin I sint the men down to the river to fush--more nor twinty miles off--an' whin the salvages wint away and left me alone wid only wan old salvage woman!-- och! I'd not wish my worst inimy in me sitivation."
"Then the savages have been giving you trouble, have they?"
"They have, sur, but not so much as the min."
"Well, Teddy," said Jack, "go and fetch me something to eat, and then you shall sit down and give me an account of things in general. But first give my men food."
"Sure they've got it," replied Teddy, with a broad grin. "That spalpeen they calls Rollo axed for meat the first thing, in a voice that made me think he'd ait me up alive av he didn't git it. So I guv 'em the run o' the pantry. What'll yer plaze to dhrink, sur?"
"What have you got?"
"Tay and coffee, sur, not to mintion wather. There's only flour an' salt pork to ait, for this is a bad place for game. I've not seed a bird or a bear for three weeks, an' the seals is too cute for me. But I'll bring ye the best that we've got."
Teddy O'Donel hastened to the kitchen, a small log-hut in rear of the dwelling-house, and left Jack Robinson alone in the "Hall."
Jack rose, thrust his hands deep into his pockets, and walked to the window. It was glazed with parchment, with the exception of the centre square, which was of glass.
"Pleasant, uncommonly pleasant," he muttered, as he surveyed the landscape.
In front lay a flat beach of sand with the gulf beyond, the horizon being veiled in mist. Up the river there was a flat beach with a hill beyond. It was a black iron-looking hill, devoid of all visible verdure, and it plunged abruptly down into the sea as if it were trying fiercely to drown itself. Down the river there was a continuation of flat beach, with, apparently, nothing whatever beyond. The only objects that enlivened the dreary expanse were, the sloop at the end of the wooden jetty and a small flagstaff in front of the house, from which a flag was flying in honour of the arrival of the new governor. At the foot of this flagstaff there stood an old iron cannon, which looked pugnacious and cross, as if it longed to burst itself and blow down all visible creation.
Jack Robinson's countenance became a simple blank as he took the first survey of his new dominions. Suddenly a gleam of hope flitted across the blank.
"Perhaps the back is better," he muttered, opening the door that led to the rear of the premises. In order to get out he had to pass through the kitchen, where he found his men busy with fried pork and flour cakes, and his lieutenant, Teddy, preparing coffee.
"What is that?" inquired Jack, pointing to a small heap of brown substance which Teddy was roasting in a frying-pan.
"Sure it's coffee," said the man.
"Eh?" inquired Jack.
"Coffee, sur," repeated Teddy with emphasis.
"What is it made of?" inquired Jack.
"Bread-crumbs, sur. I'm used to make it of pais, but it takes longer, d'ye see, for I've got to pound 'em