Fort Desolation: Red Indians and Fur Traders of Rupert's Land. Robert Michael Ballantyne

lakelet, on the margin of which one might have expected to find a bear or a moose-deer, but certainly not a sloop.

      “Oh! ye shall nevair git him off,” said François Xavier, one of the three men—a French-Canadian—on beholding the stranded vessel.

      “We’ll try,” said Pierre, another of the three men, and a burly half-breed.

      “Try!” exclaimed Rollo, the third of the three men—a tall, powerful, ill-favoured man, who was somewhat of a bully, who could not tell where he had been born, and did not know who his father and mother had been, having been forsaken by them in his infancy. “Try? you might as well try to lift a mountain! I’ve a mind to go straight back to Kamenistaquoia and tell Mr Murray that to his face!”

      “Have you?” said Jack Robinson, in a quiet, peculiar tone, accompanied by a gaze that had the effect of causing Rollo to look a little confused. “Come along, lads, we’ll begin at once,” he continued, “it will be full tide in an hour or so. Get the tackle ready, François; the rest of you set to work, and clear away the stones and rubbish from under her sides.”

      Jack threw off his coat, and began to work like a hero—as he was. The others followed his example; and the result was that when the tide rose to its full height the sloop was freed of all the rubbish that had collected round the hull; the block tackle was affixed to the mast; the rope attached to a tree on the opposite side of the creek; and the party were ready to haul. But although they hauled until their sinews cracked, and the large veins of their necks and foreheads swelled almost to bursting, the sloop did not move an inch. The tide began to fall, and in a few minutes that opportunity was gone. There were not many such tides to count on, so Jack applied all his energies and ingenuity to the work. By the time the next tide rose they had felled two large pines, and applied them to the side of the vessel. Two of the party swung at the ends of these; the other two hauled on the block-tackle. This time the sloop moved a little at the full flood; but the moment of hope soon passed, and the end was not yet attained.

      The next tide was the last high one. They worked like desperate men during the interval. The wedge was the mechanical power which prevailed at last. Several wedges were inserted under the vessel’s side, and driven home. Thus the sloop was canted over a little towards the water. When the tide was at the full, one man hauled at the tackle, two men swung at the ends of the levers, and Jack hammered home the wedges at each heave and pull; thus securing every inch of movement. The result was that the sloop slid slowly down the bank into deep water.

      It is wonderful how small a matter will arouse human enthusiasm! The cheer that was given on the successful floating of the Fairy was certainly as full of fervour, if not of volume, as that which followed the launching of the Great Eastern.

      Setting sail down the gulf they ran before a fair breeze which speedily increased to a favouring gale. Before night a small bay was descried, with three log-huts on the shore. This was the new fort. They ran into the bay, grazing a smooth rock in their passage, which caused the Fairy to tremble from stem to stern, and cast anchor close to a wooden jetty. On the end of this a solitary individual, (apparently a maniac), was seen capering and yelling wildly.

      “What fort is this?” shouted Jack.

      “Sorrow wan o’ me knows,” cried the maniac; “it’s niver been christened yet. Faix, if it’s a fort at all, I’d call it Fort Disolation. Och! but it’s lonesome I’ve been these three days—niver a wan here but meself an’ the ghosts. Come ashore, darlints, and comfort me!”

      “Fort Desolation, indeed!” muttered Jack Robinson, as he looked round him sadly; “not a bad name. I’ll adopt it. Lower the boat, lads.”

      Thus Jack took possession of his new home.

      Chapter Three.

      Domestic and Personal Matters

      Jack Robinson’s first proceeding on entering the new fort and assuming the command, was to summon the man, (supposed to be a maniac), named Teddy O’Donel, to his presence in the “Hall.”

      “Your name is Teddy O’Donel?” said Jack.

      “The same, sir, at your sarvice,” said Teddy, with a respectful pull at his forelock. “They was used to call me Mister O’Donel when I was in the army, but I’ve guv that up long ago an’ dropped the title wid the commission.”

      “Indeed: then you were a commissioned officer?” inquired Jack, with a smile.

      “Be no manes. It was a slight longer title than that I had. They called me a non-commissioned officer. I niver could find in me heart to consociate wid them consaited commissioners—though there was wan or two of ’em as was desarvin’ o’ the three stripes. But I niver took kindly to sodgerin’. It was in the Howth militia I was. Good enough boys they was in their way, but I couldn’t pull wid them no how. They made me a corp’ral for good conduct, but, faix, the great review finished me; for I got into that state of warlike feeling that I loaded 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.”