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retribution against the latter had been swift and merciless, while John Rousell and his family, on the other hand, were never threatened or, with the exception of the occasional loss of a few salmon, bothered in any way. It might even be argued that the deliverance of Tom’s body to the weir by the Beothuk had been an act of kindness on their part. It enabled John to give his brother a proper burial, for the Beothuk themselves had a great belief in Theehone, the afterlife. Mary and John lived out their days on the river in Hall’s Bay in peace and contentment, secure in their knowledge that they and their children were safe from any form of hostility from their aboriginal neighbours.
    AUTHOR’S NOTE
    The Rousell brothers, Tom and John, are also referred to by the names Rowsell and Roue in James P. Howley’s The Beothucks or Red Indians (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1915).
    It is not known for sure how many Beothuk Tom Rousell actually killed in his time, but his reputation as an “Indian Killer” was well known throughout Notre Dame Bay. There is no doubt that he, and a number of others like him, contributed significantly to the eventual eradication of the Beothuk race. Starvation and white man’s diseases, tuberculosis in particular, as well as the ongoing hostility with the Mi’kmaq, did the rest.
    2 A weir is a fence or enclosure set in a waterway for the taking of fish, usually located at the mouth of a river.
    3 During the time period of this story, the settlement of Exploits was the major centre of the Notre Dame Bay salmon fishery and fur trade. It was there that John Peyton, Sr., and his family initially established and operated their extensive salmon and furrier enterprises.

PIUS CARROLL
GOES SWILING
    F rom her kitchen window, Bridie Carroll watched her son marching up the lane and could tell by his resolute stride that he had something on his mind. Pius was coming home with a purpose.
    She wouldn’t have to wait long to find out what it was. As soon as he opened the door, he called out, “Mother, you’ll never guess what I’ve done now.”
    Before she had time to open her mouth, he blurted out, “I’m going swiling. 4 I’ve got a berth with Captain Dickie.”
    Bridie was floored. Her son often tried to surprise her and keep her in suspense while he made her guess whatever it was he was up to. Usually it was something trivial or relatively unimportant. Certainly nothing of this magnitude. Her every instinct told her to tell him no, he couldn’t go, that he was too young and she needed him here with her. Yet she held her tongue. After all, her son, at seventeen, was a man, or almost. Perhaps there was another way.
    â€œOh, Pius,” she started, “you’re just fooling me, aren’t you? I’d be so worried about you out there in that dreadful weather. It’s so dangerous. Every year men are lost, you know, and what for? Surely not the few paltry coppers they get out of it. They’re just pawns of the merchants, that’s all they are.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” Pius countered. “It won’t be dangerous for me. I’m only going to be the cook’s helper, that’s all, and I won’t even be out on the ice. I’ll be on the steamer the whole time getting the sealers their meals.”
    Then he added, “Captain Dickie told me that I’ll be earning a half share and all the flippers I can sell when we get back.”
    â€œBut you don’t have any clothes warm enough for going to the ice, and we haven’t got the money to buy you any. You’ll freeze to death.”
    â€œDon’t fret about that either,Mother.” The boy laughed. “I won’t be cold. If anything, it will probably be too hot for me down there in the galley with the stove going full tilt all the time. I’ll be leaving in three days time.”
    â€œAnd what about me?” Bridie said.