Page 15 of The Big Otter


  CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

  A CATASTROPHE, A LETTER, AND A SURPRISE.

  Autumn at length gradually drew to a close, and we began to makepreparations for the long winter that lay before us.

  Our saw-mill, having been repaired and improved, had worked so well thatwe had cut a considerable quantity of planks, as well for the boatswhich we intended to build as for the houses. It was fortunate thatthis had been accomplished before the occurrence of an event which putan effectual stop to that branch of our industries. It happened thus:

  One afternoon the fine weather which we had been enjoying so long gaveplace to boisterous winds and deluges of rain, confining us all to thefort and making us feel slightly miserable.

  "But we mustn't grumble, Max," said Lumley to me, as we looked out ofour small windows. "We must take the evil with the good as it comes,and be thankful."

  "Please, I wasn't grumbling," said I, sharply.

  "No? I thought you were."

  "No, I was not. It must have been internal grumbling by yourself thatyou heard," I retorted, sauntering back to the fire, which by that timewe had begun to light daily.

  "I daresay you're right, Max; it has often struck me as a curious factthat, when one is cross or grumpy, he is apt to think all the rest ofthe world is also cross or grumpy. By the way, that reminds me--thoughI don't see why it should remind me, seeing that the two things have noconnection--that Coppet came to me last night saying he had discovered aslight leak in the dam. We'd better look to it now, as the rain seemsto have moderated a little."

  We went out forthwith, and found Coppet already on the spot, gazing at asmall rill of water which bubbled up from behind a mass of rock thatjutted out from the cliff and formed a support for the beams of our dam.

  "Something wrong there, Coppet," said Lumley, inspecting the placecarefully.

  "Oui, monsieur--it is true."

  "Can you guess where it comes through?" I asked.

  "Vraiment, monsieur, I know not, but surely the dam it is quite strong."

  "Strong!--of course it is, unnecessarily strong," said I, looking up atits edge, over which the water, rendered muddy by the rains, flowed in aconsiderable volume. "What think you, Lumley?"

  I asked my friend's opinion somewhat anxiously, because I observed thathe seemed to examine the place with unusually grave looks.

  "Max," he said at last, "your engineering is defective. It is true thatthe beams and stuffs of which the dam is composed could resist all theweight or force of water that can be brought to bear on them--even anuntrained eye like mine can see that--but you had not observed that thismass of rock, against which the whole affair rests, has got a crack init, so that it is partially, if not altogether, detached from the cliff.No doubt it is a large heavy mass, but the strain upon it must be verysevere, and its stability depends on its foundations."

  "The foundations seem secure enough," said I, looking down.

  "True, but natural foundations are sometimes deceptive, and thatbubbling spring may be quietly washing these away. We must use a littleart here. Go, Coppet," he added, turning to the carpenter, "fetch allthe men, and your tools, and as many heavy timbers as you can readilylay hands on. Come, Max, help me to lift this one."

  The decision of Lumley's manner and the energetic way in which he threwoff his coat and set to work, convinced me that he thought danger ofsome sort was impending. I therefore followed his example, and set towith a will.

  We fixed a heavy log in front of the suspected mass of rock, placing itsend against the centre of the mass, and sinking the other end into theground--having previously, however, sunk a strong crossbeam into theground to bear the pressure of that end.

  "This of itself," said my chief, "will go far to avert evil, but we willadopt your tactics, Max, and, by giving it superabundance of strength,make assurance doubly sure."

  In pursuance of this plan, he ordered the men to plant several ponderouslogs in the same position as the first beam, over which other logs werethrown crosswise, and the whole was weighted with heavy stones.

  During our operations, which occupied us all till evening, the rainincreased tenfold, and at last came down in absolute sheets, floodingour dam to such an extent that it overflowed nearly all round the brimin pretty solid cataracts of dirty water, which brought down branchesand leaves and other debris from the higher parts of the stream.

  I was gratified to see, however, that our embankment showed no symptomsof weakness, and felt assured that the powerful structure we had justset up was more than sufficient to prevent any rupture in the rockitself. Comforted by these thoughts, Lumley and I returned to the hallin a burst of thunder, lightning, and rain--thoroughly saturated, and ina condition to do ample justice to the sea-biscuit, fried salt-pork,hung whitefish and tea, which Salamander had prepared for supper.

  Blondin, being a polite, intelligent fellow as well as our foreman, wasprivileged to take his meals with us, besides occupying one of our fourrooms. In consequence of this we conversed chiefly in the patois Frenchof the country, for the worthy man was not deeply learned in English.Salamander messed with the men in their own house, after preparing andspreading our meals.

  "What say you to a game of chess?" said Lumley to me, after thetea-things had been carried away by Blondin.

  "By all means," I replied, going to a corner cupboard, in which we keptmiscellaneous articles, and bringing out the chess-board.

  This board and its men, by the way, merit passing remark, for they werefashioned by our chief entirely, and very neatly, out of the pith of abush, the name of which I forget; and, on the voyage, many an hour thatmight otherwise have been tedious we whiled away with this interestinggame. I knew nothing of it when we began, but Lumley taught me themoves, and I soon picked up enough of the game to enable me to fight afairish battle before being beaten. At first Lumley always won, and waswont to signalise his victory by the expression of a modest hope thatthe tables would be turned ere long. That hope--whether genuine orpretended--was not long of being gratified, for as my mind by degreesbegan to grasp the mysteries of chess, I succeeded in winning a game nowand then.

  On this particular night, however, the tables were turned literally, andin a way that we little expected.

  Blondin, being left to himself, had sought the companionship of hispipe, and was dozing over the fire, more than half asleep--at least notmore awake than was consistent with the keeping of his pipe between hislips. Ever and anon he was startled into a more wakeful condition bythe tremendous blasts which frequently shook the house; but these didnot disturb him much, for he had helped to build the house, and knewthat it was strong.

  We were all indeed pretty well tired by our recent exertions, and rathersleepy, so that the game languished a little. Salamander, havingobtained permission to retire, was in bed in his own corner-room,entertaining us with a duet through the nose--if I may call that a duetin which both nostrils played the same air.

  "Check!" said Lumley, rousing himself a little, and placing a knight insuch a position as to endanger my king.

  "Mate!" I exclaimed ruefully.

  "Hallo!" cried Blondin, waking up at the familiar word.

  "No--not that sort of mate," said I, with a laugh, "but the--"

  I stopped abruptly, for at that moment we heard a sound that sent athrill to our hearts. It was something between a rend and a crash. Welooked at each other in consternation.

  "The dam's going," exclaimed Lumley.

  Another crash, that there was no misunderstanding, proved that it wasgone.

  We ran towards the back door, but before reaching it, we had anadditional proof that was even more convincing than the last. A rush oftumultuous water was heard outside. Next moment the back door was burstinward, and a deluge of water met us. Lumley, who was nearest the door,was swept off his legs, and came against me with such violence that Ifell over him. Blondin, who was furthest off, tried to stop us, butalso went down, and all three were swept into the lower side of the halla
mid a jumble of tables, chairs, billets of wood, stray garments, andchessmen.

  The fire had been put out; so had the candle, and we were thus in nearlypitch darkness, when we heard a yell from Salamander. It was followedby a great splash, and we dimly perceived something like a half-nakedghost floundering towards us.

  It was Salamander!

  "Hold on!" shouted Lumley.

  "Dere's noting to hold on to, monsieur," cried the interpreter indesperation, as he tripped over something and rose again--gasping.

  The rush was over in half a minute, but the great weight of water thathad entered held the front door, which opened inwards, so tight, thatour hall was converted into a water-tank about three feet deep, while ahuge mass of logs and debris outside blocked the opening of the backdoor.

  "Stay, don't move till I get a light," cried Lumley, wading to thecorner cupboard, where, on an upper shelf, we kept our candles, withflint, steel, and tinder.

  While he was striking a light we all stood silent and shivering, butwhen a candle was with difficulty lighted, I burst into an irresistiblefit of laughter for the scene we presented was ludicrous in the extreme.It was not our woe-begone looks which tickled me, so much as thehelpless, drowned-rat-like aspect we had all assumed--all except ourchief, whose tall, strong figure holding a candle over his dishevelledhead looked like the spirit of destruction presiding over a scene ofdesolation.

  A rapping at the front door was the first thing that recalled us to thenecessity for action.

  "Is it drownded ye all are, Muster Lumley?"

  It was the voice of Donald Bane.

  "Not quite," cried Lumley, with a laugh and a shiver. "Come in,Donald."

  "Ay, ay, sur, I would come in if I could, but the door won't open."

  "Shove hard, Donald."

  "I wull, sur. Here, Shames, lend a hand."

  We heard both the Highlanders put their broad backs against the door andgroan in Gaelic as they heaved, but they might as well have tried tolift the house. They caused the door to crack, however.

  "Wheesht! What's that Shames?"

  "We've splut the toor, Tonald."

  "Never mind; heave again, boys," cried Lumley.

  At that moment poor Salamander, who was groping about with nothing buthis shirt on, stumbled over something, and, in trying to recoverhimself, pitched head first against the door with considerable violence.

  This was a climax. The door, although it had withstood the pressurefrom without, could not resist this additional pressure within. Itcollapsed and burst outwards suddenly. The great mass of water wentforth with the gushing hilarity of a prisoner set free, and, withsomething like a roar of triumph, carried Salamander like a chip on itscrest. He was launched into the bosom of the amazed James Dougall, whoincontinently went with the stream, laying hold of and carrying offDonald Bane as he passed.

  After a few turns over on the lawn, the three men regained theirfooting, and made their way back to the house, while the stream,subsiding almost immediately, left us in peace to make the best of whatJames Dougall called a paad chob!

  What had actually occurred was this: the rock that held the mainsupports of our dam, being detached from the cliff as Lumley hadsurmised, had been undermined by the unusual floods of the previousweek. Even in that condition it might have remained fast, so strong wasour artificial buttress, but as the foundation wore away the rock heeledover to one side a little; this deranged the direct action of thebuttresses, and in an instant they flew aside. The rock was hurledover, and the whole of our dam was dashed in dire confusion into the bedof the stream. It was this choking of the natural channel which sentthe great flood over our lawn, and, as we have seen, created such ahubbub in the hall.

  Of course all danger was now past. The roaring torrent soon forced itsway into its own bed again, and all we had to do was to repair damagesas well as we could, and make ourselves as comfortable for the night ascircumstances would admit of.

  Fortunately the next day was fine and warm, with brilliant sunshine.Being Sunday we let everything remain just as it was, for Lumley and Iwere of the same mind in regard to the Sabbath-day, and, from thecommencement of our expedition, had as far as possible rested from allweek-day labour on that day. Both of us had been trained to do so frominfancy.

  Well do I remember my dear old father's last advice to me on thissubject. "Punch," said he, "wherever you go, my boy, `remember theSabbath-day to keep it holy.' You'll be tempted to do ordinary work,and to go in for ordinary amusement on that day, but don't do it, myboy--don't do it. Depend upon it, a blessing always attends therespecter of the Sabbath."

  "But, father," said I, venturing for the first time in my life to echowhat I had often heard said, "is it true, as some people assert, thatthe Sabbath is a Jewish institution, and no longer binding onChristians? Pardon my venturing to repeat this objection--"

  "Objection!" interrupted my father, "why, dear boy, there's nothing Ilike better than to hear fair, honest objections, because then I canmeet them. How can the Sabbath be a Jewish institution when thecommandment begins with `remember'? The day to be remembered wasinstituted at Creation, given to man as a blessed day of rest from toil,and recognised as binding by our Saviour, when He sanctioned works ofnecessity and mercy on that day."

  I never forgot my father's advice on this subject, and have experiencedmental, physical, and spiritual benefit as the result.

  Owing to our belief in the Sabbath, then, we invariably, whiletravelling, remained in camp on that clay, and found that we not onlydid not lose, but actually had gained in speed at the end of each week--comparing our rate of progress with that of those who did not rest onSundays. And I now recall to mind a certain bishop of the Church ofEngland who, while travelling in the great Nor'-west between twowell-known stations, made the fastest journey on record, although heregularly remained in camp on the Sabbath-day. On that day, also, afterour arrival at Lake Wichikagan, and all through the winter, Lumley madea regular practice of assembling the men and reading a sermon from abook which he had brought for the purpose. And he did not neglectinstruction of another kind, to which I shall refer as well as to ourwinter amusements, in the proper place.

  During all this time our larder had been well supplied by Blondin withfresh fish from the lake, and by the Indians with haunches of reindeerand moose, or elk, venison. They also brought us beaver-meat, the tailsof which were considered the best portions. Bear's-meat was offered us,but we did not relish it much, possibly from prejudice; but we wouldhave been glad of it, doubtless, if reduced to short allowance. Ofcourse wild-fowl of all kinds were plentiful, and many of these wereshot by Lumley and myself, as well as by our men.

  Some of the geese we had at first salted, but, the frost having come, wewere by that time able to preserve fish and meat quite fresh for winteruse--so that both net and gun were in constant occupation.

  One day, while Lumley and I were sitting at dinner--which we usuallytook about noon--we were agreeably surprised by the appearance of astrange Indian, and still more agreeably surprised by his entering thehall and holding out a packet to Lumley. Having delivered it, the man,who looked wayworn, strode to the fire, sat quietly down and began tosmoke a pipe which I had handed to him ready charged.

  "Why, what's this?" exclaimed Lumley, unwrapping the covering of thepacket, "not a letter, surely!--yes, I declare it is--and from Macnabtoo. Come, this _is_ an unlooked-for treat."

  I was quite excited--indeed we both were--for a letter in those regionswas about as rare as snow in July.

  Lumley opened it hastily and read as follows:--

  "My dear Lumley, you will be surprised to get a letter from me, anddated, too, from an unknown post. Yes, my boy, like yourself, I havebeen transferred from my old home, to this region, which is not morethan two hundred miles from your present residence. The governor sentme to establish it soon after you left. I have named it the _MountainHouse_, because there's a thing the shape and size of a sugar-loafbehind it. So, I'll hope to l
ook you up during the winter. Beforegoing further let me give you a piece of news--I've got my sister outhere to stay with me! Just think of that!"

  At this point Lumley laid down the letter and stared at me.

  "Why, Max, such a thing was never heard of before! If he had got awife, now, I could have understood it, but a sister!"

  "Well, whatever she is to him, she's a civilised white woman, and that'sa sight worth seeing in those regions. I wonder what she's like?" saidI.

  "Like himself, of course. Tall, raw-boned, square-shouldered,red-haired (you know he told us she was red-haired), square-jawed,Roman-nosed--a Macnab female could be nothing else."

  "Come," said I, "don't be impolite to Highland females, but go on withthe letter."

  Lumley obeyed, but the letter contained little more of interest. Wecared not for that, however. We had now a subject capable of keeping usin speculative talk for a week--the mere fact that there was actually acivilised woman--a _lady_ perhaps--at all events a Macnab--within twohundred miles of us!

  "No doubt she's a rugged specimen of the sex," said Lumley, as we satbeside the fire that night, "no other kind of white female would ventureto face this wilderness for the sake of a brother; but she _is_ a whitewoman, and she _is_ only two hundred miles off--unless our friend isjoking--and she's Macnab's sister--Jessie, if I remember rightly--

  "`Stalwart young Jessie, The flower of--'"

  "Come, Lumley, that will do--good-night!"