The Frenchman’s Compass

Compass & sundial

These were carried mostly by travellers, soldiers and sailors. The compass has engravings around the indicating the coordinates to important cities.

The higher classes of society had gilded compasses, inlaid with silver or gold.

The compasses became industrialized by the seven years war.

Dawn wasn’t a welcome sight to most people. But Joseph Leroux, Martin Derellau and Luca J. Porto weren’t most people. They lived for the dawn, for the moment that the sun peeped over the luscious green maple leaves and the dark green pines, armoured in tiny needles, from which droplets of water fell.

Joseph was a tall, lanky man of 19 years, who’s great grandmother came from the streets of Paris as a sewer rat and arrived in New France a ‘Fille du Roi’ or daughter of the king. His own mother had a complicated lineage of natives and settlers, thus his complexion drew the eye for being a hint darker then most. Joesph seemed to be their leader and was incredibly mistrusting and paranoid and the only two people he trusted were Martin and Luca. HE had known them for four years and had only taken them into his confidence four months before the incidents of this story. He was liked by the other travel companions when they were sober, but once they were in their cups, he was the butt of their jests.

Chapter 1: From the Ocean Unto Land

Dawn wasn’t a welcome sight to most people. But Joseph Leroux, Martin Derellau and Luca J. Porto weren’t most people. They lived for the dawn, for the moment that the sun peeped over the luscious green maple leaves and the dark green pines, armoured in tiny needles, from which droplets of water fell.

Joseph was a tall, lanky man of 19 years, who’s great grandmother came from the streets of Paris as a sewer rat and arrived in New France a ‘Fille du Roi’ or daughter of the king. His own mother had a complicated lineage of natives and settlers, thus his complexion drew the eye for being a hint darker then most. Joesph seemed to be their leader and was incredibly mistrusting and paranoid and the only two people he trusted were Martin and Luca. HE had known them for four years and had only taken them into his confidence four months before the incidents of this story. He was liked by the other travel companions when they were sober, but once they were in their cups, he was the butt of their jests.

These three ‘courer des bois’, also know as traveling traders or runners of the wood, roused the camp. This morning wasn’t like most, however. The maple leaves were frozen under a sleeve of white snow, marred only by the dark ashes left by the night fires.
When Joseph left his stick-and-blanket sleeping shelter and all of it’s warmth, he embraced the bite of the winter air. A few minutes later, everybody was out, crouching around the fire and the iron pan and kettle heating up above it. A bitter cup of coffee later and some burnt bear jerky, the three traders and their other companions were hiking through the land, massive snowshoes attached to their feet.
Martin was chewing on a piece of birch-bark, as he always did. Once Joseph had tried, and found a bug in his mouth. Ever since then, he refused to chew on the white tree’s skin, always thinking that he’ll find another bug.
Four hours into their westward trek from Baie-Comeau to New France, they found came across a frozen river. Along its bank, a cold and dead shipwreck lay. It had happened during the Autumn storms and now in the white season, icy fingers from the river held it in place. Joseph stopped and the rest of the group followed suit. After a short discussion as to what they should do, a couple of the less cautious variety clambered aboard the frozen ship’s skeleton.
A minute later, a bag of frozen jerky and some arquebuses were thrown down. Then, a shiny disk-like object was hurled off the ship. Joseph caught it, and flipping it open, he found an ornate compass. The northbound needle twitched as he balanced it out on his palm. He closed the little lid attached to the disk and flipped it to it’s underside. The coordinates of cities and military posts were etched along the bottom. A voice behind him piped up and said:
“I’ll give you my canoe for that.” Joesph turned and pocketed the little silver disk.
“Tell me. Why would I want to go on the water?” Then he turned and the group recommenced their trek.

That evening was when Joesph’s revelation came on him. He was in his blankets, trying to get warm. Then, after a couple futile attempts to get comfortable, he took out the compass. Finger smudges ruined the polished disks wonder, so Joesph wiped it against his sleeve.
“There,” he said. “That’s much better.”
Then a voice inside his head said ‘Thank you.’. Joseph didn’t look startled. He often heard imaginary voices.
“So. A compass. A sailor’s compass, right?”
‘Yes.’ Answered the voice.
“How was it, living on the ocean?” Then a spasm shook him, the same way ti might if an arachnophobe thought of spiders.
‘You don’t like the water?’
“When I was seven, my brother pushed me in a river. I couldn’t get out of and I washed up on the shore, several miles away. Never again did I take comfort in water.”
‘Water may take. But it can also give. Without water, no sweet maple. How would deer drink or leaves grow?’
“As long as you keep me from the water, I’m fine.”
‘I could do that. The way I see it, you took me from the boat. That means I take you from the water.’
“Deal?”
‘Deal.’
And so the conversation went, until sleep claimed Joseph.

Chapter 2: Northward’s Communication

That evening was when Joesph’s revelation came on him. He was in his blankets, trying to get warm. Then, after a couple futile attempts to get comfortable, he took out the compass. Finger smudges ruined the polished disks wonder, so Joesph wiped it against his sleeve.
“There,” he said. “That’s much better.”
Then a voice inside his head said ‘Thank you.’. Joseph didn’t look startled. He often heard imaginary voices.
“So. A compass. A sailor’s compass, right?”
‘Yes.’ Answered the voice.
“How was it, living on the ocean?” Then a spasm shook him, the same way ti might if an arachnophobe thought of spiders.
‘You don’t like the water?’
“When I was seven, my brother pushed me in a river. I couldn’t get out of and I washed up on the shore, several miles away. Never again did I take comfort in water.”
‘Water may take. But it can also give. Without water, no sweet maple. How would deer drink or leaves grow?’
“As long as you keep me from the water, I’m fine.”
‘I could do that. The way I see it, you took me from the boat. That means I take you from the water.’
“Deal?”
‘Deal.’
And so the conversation went, until sleep claimed Joseph.

Loading...

The next morning, the trek started later. Luca had a sleepless night and his mood rubbed off on the group. Nobody was looking forwards to the numbing cold and Joseph couldn’t blame them. Long walks across snow seemed to sap the life from a person and the endless hours repeated themselves when a you see is brown and white bark, green needles and blank grounds, unmarred by prints.

But I think every member of the crew preferred blank fields of snow to the raging torrents of a flooded river. Jagged chunks of ice came down river, broken up by the stones every few meters. Joseph grew very still and followed the group downstream, thinking of what would happen if he went in. First the cold would shock him, then the water would suck him under, then it was a question of ice or stone. Which would he collide with first?

Then the true horror struck him. Life in New France had many aspects, including marine. A large part of their life style depended on marine life. Like going out on the water to trap beavers, or fishing to have food for the winter. The water was also very military. They could only be attacked by the ocean side. But Joseph never appreciated these things. He just saw dark churning currents, waiting to get him. He realized that his friends were attempting to find deeper water so they could safely cross.

However, before he could object to this, the crew found a nearby native village. In exchange for a few pelts, the natives lent them a few strong rowers and some sturdy canoes.

Loading...

Joesph closed his eyes and crushed his pack against his chest. He shivered as he felt the rock of the boat under him. Then, he heard a loud splash and saw Luca’s face go blank as the cold water froze his senses. He had attempted to stand in the boat but had fallen off. Joseph could see the bank on the other side, but he could also see Luca sinking lower. He pulled out his compass, muttered “So much good you did me.” Then he dove into the water after Luca, compass in hand. The water didn’t seem as cold as he thought and under the water was beautiful. He saw the water rushing over rocks, little streams of bubbles flowing over his eyes. He kicked his way down to Luca and wrapped his arm around his cold frame. At first he had a trouble kicking down, but with the extra weight, he found it hard going up. He felt a sudden pang of fear again, but he gripped the compass even harder and rose up to the surface. He made a curious squeal-gasp sound. A canoe came over and hauled them in.
Five minutes latter they were huddled back in the native village around a fire and some tents. Joesph stood up. He might have almost frozen to death, but he never seemed more carefree. He walked over to the man who had first offered to trade him for the compass and pressed it into his hand.
Joseph lived on, finally embracing the sea life and appreciating it for the first time.

Loading...

Joesph closed his eyes and crushed his pack against his chest. He shivered as he felt the rock of the boat under him. Then, he heard a loud splash and saw Luca’s face go blank as the cold water froze his senses. He had attempted to stand in the boat but had fallen off. Joseph could see the bank on the other side, but he could also see Luca sinking lower. He pulled out his compass, muttered “So much good you did me.” Then he dove into the water after Luca, compass in hand. The water didn’t seem as cold as he thought and under the water was beautiful. He saw the water rushing over rocks, little streams of bubbles flowing over his eyes. He kicked his way down to Luca and wrapped his arm around his cold frame. At first he had a trouble kicking down, but with the extra weight, he found it hard going up. He felt a sudden pang of fear again, but he gripped the compass even harder and rose up to the surface. He made a curious squeal-gasp sound. A canoe came over and hauled them in.
Five minutes latter they were huddled back in the native village around a fire and some tents. Joesph stood up. He might have almost frozen to death, but he never seemed more carefree. He walked over to the man who had first offered to trade him for the compass and pressed it into his hand.
Joseph lived on, finally embracing the sea life and appreciating it for the first time.

About the author

The author, Simon K.E, is a student enrolled is a specialized, project-based learning program named PLP. He personally enjoyed this project, since his family is from the province of Quebec on the maternal side and can trace their lineage back for many generations. This was an opportunity to learn and write about his heritage.

You've reached the end of the book