Newfoundland Stories Read Online Free PDF

until late the following morning.
    During the next two days his daily routine gradually returned to its normal state – almost. He resumed his work with one eye on the task at hand and the other on the nearby woods, ever watchful, with his long-gun never far from his side. Things would never be quite the same again. He was on constant alert now and aware for the first time of his vulnerability in this sparsely populated area.
    And then his brother showed up. Tom Rousell arrived just before nightfall bearing a brace of rabbits which he and John quickly cooked into a hearty stew. When they had eaten, they retired to the tilt and the rum jug once again descended from its lofty position. There, in the dimly lit interior, John related to Tom his experience with the Beothuk three days earlier.
    â€œI wish I’d been here,” Tom offered. “I would have had those dirty savages. They wouldn’t have gotten away from me.”
    â€œWell,” John replied, “there was no real harm done, I suppose. I’m still alive to tell the tale, although I must admit I got the fright of my life. Anyway, if they come back again I’ll have my gun ready.”
    The two brothers sipped rum, getting quietly drunk, and continued to talk into the night. Then, in the early hours of the morning, when he was quite intoxicated, Tom made a horrific admission.
    â€œJohn,” he slurred, “I’ve got something to tell you.” He paused, as if reconsidering what he was about to say. Then he committed himself. “I’ve already killed a few of them, you know.”
    â€œA few of what?” his startled brother asked.
    â€œSavages, Red Indians,” Tom said. “Five in all.”
    John was incredulous. “Why? When?”
    â€œThe first one was an accident. I came across two of them when we surprised each other in a clearing in the woods. They weren’t aware of my presence nor I of theirs. They were armed and one of them started to come at me so I shot him. Blew the bugger’s brains out, I did. The other one took off before I could reload. That was the beginning. Then, later, I was making my way through the woods one day when I noticed some movement in a bush that I didn’t think was right. So I moved in close and blasted into the bush, and sure enough, another one of the dirty devils was in there. Looked like a boy, probably trying to hide from me.”
    â€œAnd the others?” John asked, dreading the answer.
    â€œWell, by then I suspected they knew me and would be on the lookout for me. So I had to be extra careful. I took to following a different route along my trap-line as I figured that was where they might be waiting to ambush me. But I fooled them. And one day when I arrived to check one of my traps, there were three of them trying to take out a beaver that was caught. I chose my position well, where I would have time to reload before they could get to me.
    â€œSo I waited until the right moment, and I let go. It was a long shot, but I dropped one stone dead. The others came at me but I had time to reload and I got another one of the buggers. I was pretty sure that some of my shot hit the third one as well but he ran off. But he left a trail of blood that I could follow and pretty soon I came upon him. He was almost gone so I finished him off too. Got all three, I did. And then I got out of there,” he said. “Pass me the jug.”
    Tom Rousell took a final swig of rum, laid back upon the boughs that served as his bed, and, within seconds, was fast asleep.
    Sleep for John, however, would not come. As drunk as he was, he was horrified by what his brother had told him. He had always known that Tom was rough and ready, but tonight he had witnessed a dark side of his brother that he had never seen before.
    Two days later, Tom left again. After his disclosure in the tilt that night, neither he nor John had mentioned the matter again. John thought briefly, perhaps