Left on the Labrador | Page 4

beyond Pinch-In Tickle,
and more than a mile distant.
"What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?" wailed Charley in wild despair.
What indeed could he do? Here he was, left upon the bleak rocks of the
Labrador coast, at the edge of an Arctic winter, a lad of thirteen, a
stranger in a strange and desolate land.
[Illustration: "SHE'S GONE! THE SHIP HAS GONE!" CRIED
CHARLEY IN SUDDEN FRIGHT.]

II
THE TWIGS OF PINCH-IN TICKLE
"You'll be comin' along with me," suggested Toby. "Dad'll be knowin'

what to do."
"But the boat has gone! How can I get home?" Charley almost sobbed,
quite beside himself with despair and terror.
"Don't be takin' on like that now!" Toby placed his hand soothingly
upon Charley's arm. "Dad says a man can get out of most fixes, and he
keeps his head and don't get scared. Dad knows. He's wonderful fine
about gettin' out of fixes. Dad'll know what to do. He'll be gettin' you
out of your fix easy as a swile[1] slips off a rock. You'll see!"
Helpless to do otherwise, Charley submitted, and Toby led him down
to the boat, and when Charley was seated astern, and Toby was pulling
for the huts, a half mile away, with the strong, sure stroke of an expert
boatman, Toby counselled:
"Don't be lettin' yourself get worked up with worry, now. Dad says
worry and frettin' never makes a bad job better."
"It's terrible! It's terrible!" exclaimed Charley in agony. "I've been left
behind! I've no place to go, and I'll starve and freeze!"
"'Tisn't so bad, now," Toby argued. "You be safe and sound and well.
Maybe the mail boat folk'll be missin' you and come back."
"Do you think they will?" asked Charley, ready to grasp at a straw of
hope.
"I'm not knowin'," answered Toby cautiously, "but leastways you'll be
safe enough."
Toby's assurance gave little comfort to Charley. The snow was now
falling so heavily that he could scarcely see the huts perched upon the
rocky hillside, and there was no other indication of human life in the
great wide, bleak wilderness that surrounded them. The bare rocks, the
falling snow, and the sound of the sea beating upon the cliffs beyond
Pinch-In Tickle filled his heart with hopelessness and helplessness. As
uncomfortable and unhappy as he had been upon the ship, he now

thought of it as a haven of refuge and luxury. If it would only come
back for him! Why had he gone ashore! He had dreamed of adventures,
but never an adventure like this.
"Here's the landin'."
Toby had drawn the boat alongside a great flat rock that formed a
natural wharf. He sprang nimbly out, painter in hand, and while he
steadied the boat Charley followed.
Above the landing were three unpainted and dilapidated cabins. Smoke
was issuing from a stovepipe that protruded through the roof of the
smallest of these, and toward this Toby led the way.
"This is our fishin' place," Toby volunteered. "We fishes here in
summer, and lives in the house where you sees the smoke. The other
houses belongs to Mr. McClung from Newfoundland. The mail boat
were takin' he and three men that fishes with he, and their gear, and
they takes Dad's fish, too."
"You stay here, don't you? You'll stay here till the ship comes back for
me, won't you?" asked Charley pleadingly.
"We goes up the bay to-morrow marnin' to our tilt, our winter house at
Double Up Cove," said Toby, "but I'm thinkin' that if the ship's comin'
back she'll be back before night. Nobody stays out here in winter. 'Tis
wonderful cold here when the wind blows down over the hills and in
from the sea, with no trees to break un, and 'tis a poor place for huntin',
and no wood is handy for the fire."
"What'll I do when you go?" asked Charley in fresh dismay.
"You'll not be stoppin' here whatever," assured Toby. "Dad'll know
what to do. He'll get you out of this fix! Don't you worry now."
Toby opened the door of the cabin, and the two boys entered. A tall,
broad-shouldered, bearded man stood by one of the two windows
cleaning a gun. A round-faced, plump little woman was at the stove,

transferring from a kettle to a large earthen bowl something that filled
the room with a most delicious odour, and a girl of twelve years or
thereabouts was placing dishes upon the table.
"Dad," said Toby addressing the man, "I brings with me Charley
Norton who was a passenger on the mail boat, and while he's ashore the
mail boat goes off and leaves he."
"That's a fix now! That's a fix to be in! I calls that a mean trick for the
mail boat