Dillon Wallace - Grit A-Plenty

Indian Jake assembled the general camp equipment and the provisions, the latter consisting chiefly of flour, pork, tea, a small keg of molasses, and salt, packing everything into snug, convenient packages, that could be handled easily.

Jamie was vastly interested in the preparations. He did little things to help the boys, and Indian Jake permitted him to hold open the mouths of the bags as he packed them, to Jamie’s delight, and made the lad feel that he was really of much assistance, and the two became the best of friends.

Doctor Joe had gone home to Break Cove on the evening that the boys had returned from the post with Indian Jake, and was not expected back until Sunday. They were surprised, therefore, to see his boat coming up the bight on Saturday morning, and astonished when Doctor Joe announced upon his arrival that he had decided not to go to his old trapping grounds that winter.

“I’ve been thinking matters over,” he explained, “and if you’ll let me, I’ll make The Jug my home this winter. I’ll hunt up here, Thomas, where you used to hunt before you took the Seal Lake trail, when the children were small, and you had to be home o’ nights. My old trail is pretty well hunted out, anyhow, and I’ll do better here where there hasn’t been any trapping since you quit.”

“’Tis wonderful good of you,” said Thomas.

“I know well enough,” continued Doctor Joe, “that unless you’re watched pretty closely, and I see you every day you’ll be trying to use that leg some day before you should, and perhaps break it again. With this arrangement I’ll be here every night and keep track of you, and look after Jamie’s eyes, if they need it. Once a week isn’t often enough. I can feed the dogs, too, and do the other rough work that’s too hard for Margaret, and that she shouldn’t try to do.”

“I were thinkin’ o’ Margaret feedin’ th’ dogs,” said Thomas, “and I don’t like to have her do it. They knows a lass can’t master un, and they’d be like t’ turn on her some time.”

And thus it was arranged, to the vast satisfaction of Thomas and Margaret, as well as Doctor Joe, that The Jug was to be his home while the boys were away. And Jamie was mightily pleased, for Doctor Joe would be jolly company of evenings, singing in his fine voice, as no other in the Bay could sing, and telling him stories such as no one else could tell.

Everything was in readiness on Saturday night, in order that Sunday might be observed as a day of rest. Thomas would permit no work to be done about his home on Sunday that could as well be done another day. Like most of the Bay folk, his faith was simple and literal.

“’Tis wrong t’ work and ’tis wrong t’ shoot on a Sunday,” said he, “and anything that ’tis wrong t’ do brings bad luck in th’ end if you does un. ’Tis goin’ contrary t’ th’ Almighty.”

And so the day was spent in quietude and rest indoors, which pleased Jamie greatly, for he was no less excited than David and Andy, and he was glad to have them near. They had suddenly become heroes in his sight, and indeed they were heroes, aye, and soldiers, too, going into the deep wilderness to battle with death-dealing blizzards and bitter, changeless cold for the sake of those they loved.

“And you and Andy makes a good hunt, and gets th’ fur t’ pay for havin’ th’ mist took out o’ my eyes,” said Jamie, passing his hand before his eyes in a pitiful little attempt to brush the mist away that he might see David’s features more plainly, “and th’ great doctor cures un, I’ll go to Seal Lake some time and hunt, too.”

“We’ll do our best, now,” assured David, “an’ we’ll get th’ fur, never fear.”

“That we will,” said Andy, squaring his shoulders.

“Pop says you’ll have t’ keep plenty o’ grit,” warned Jamie.

“We’ll keep plenty o’ grit,” said Andy.

“And a stout heart, like a man’s,” added Jamie.

“And we’ll keep our hearts stout like a man’s,” said Andy proudly.

It was to be a long time before the family should be together again, and Margaret had the dinner table set close to Thomas’s bunk. Doctor Joe had shot a great fat goose the day before—the first of the season—and Margaret cooked it for their Sunday dinner. Then there was bread and tea, and a fine big tart of bake-apple berries. And a cozy feast they had, with the fire in the big stove crackling merrily, for it was raw and cold outside. And though Thomas must needs lie flat upon his back he enjoyed the feast as well as any of them, for Margaret attended to that, in her gentle, thoughtful way.

When dinner was cleared away Doctor Joe told them stories, and at Margaret’s request sang for them, and when he sang some hymns they all joined with him—even Thomas, with a great bellowing voice. It was a day to be remembered, and David and Andy were to think of it often in the months to come, as they wearily tramped silent white trails, or sat of evenings in lonely tilts.

It was after candlelight, and they were at tea, that evening, when suddenly the door opened and in walked Uncle Ben Rudder and Hiram Muggs. Uncle Ben led Hiram directly to Thomas’s bed, and Thomas greeted them warmly.

“Good gracious! Good gracious!” exclaimed Uncle Ben. “To think, now, that Thomas Angus went and broke his leg! Dear eyes!”

“’Twas a sorry mishap,” sympathized Hiram, a wiry, active little man of few words.

“Aye,” agreed Thomas, “but it might ha’ been worse. I were thinkin’ how hard ’twould ha’ been when the children were little, or a season when th’ fishin’ were poor, and I were in debt with nothin’ ahead for th’ winter.”

“H-m-m-m,” grunted Uncle Ben. “I suppose nothin’s so bad it couldn’t be worse, but bad’s bad enough for all that. Good gracious, yes!”

“Well,” said Thomas, “we have t’ take things as they come, good or bad, and th’ best way, t’ my thinkin’, is t’ take un without complaint. But set in now, and have tea.”

When tea was cleared away, and Indian Jake and Hiram and Doctor Joe were smoking their pipes comfortably at the other end of the room, Uncle Ben seated himself by Thomas’s bed and asked:

“How about th’ huntin’, Tom? I says to myself, when Davy tells me you broke your leg, ‘Tom’ll need some one, now, t’ hunt his trail on shares. Good gracious, yes!’ and so I speaks t’ Hiram, and Hiram says he’ll hunt un, and here Hiram is, ready t’ go.”

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