CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
THE JOYS OF CAMPING OUT--IMPORTANT ADDITIONS TO THE ESTABLISHMENT--SERIOUS MATTERS AND WINTER AMUSEMENTS.
At last winter came upon us in earnest. It had been threatening for aconsiderable time. Sharp frosts had occurred during the nights, andmore than once we had on rising found thin ice forming on the lake,though the motion of the running water had as yet prevented our streamfrom freezing; but towards the end of October there came a day whichcompletely changed the condition and appearance of things.
Every one knows the peculiar, I may say the exhilarating, sensationsthat are experienced when one looks out from one's window and beholdsthe landscape covered completely with the first snows of winter.
Well, those sensations were experienced on the occasion of which I writein somewhat peculiar circumstances. Lumley and I were out hunting atthe time: we had been successful; and, having wandered far from thefort, resolved to encamp in the woods, and return home early in themorning.
"I do love to bivouac in the forest," I said, as we busied ourselvesspreading brush-wood on the ground, preparing the kettle, plucking ourgame, and kindling the fire, "especially at this season of the year,when the sharp nights render the fire so agreeable."
"Yes," said Lumley, "and the sharp appetites render food so delightful."
"To say nothing," I added, "of the sharp wits that render intercourse sopleasant."
"Ah, and not to mention," retorted Lumley, "the dull wits, stirred intounwonted activity, which tone down that intercourse with flashes ofweakly humour. Now then, Max, clap on more wood. Don't spare thefiring--there's plenty of it, so--isn't it grand to see the thick smoketowering upwards straight and solid like a pillar!"
"Seldom that one experiences a calm so perfect," said I, glancing upwardat the slowly-rising smoke. "Don't you think it is the proverbial calmbefore the storm?"
"Don't know, Max. I'm not weather-wise. Can't say that I understandmuch about calms or storms, proverbial or otherwise, and don't muchcare."
"That's not like your usual philosophical character, Lumley," saidI--"see, the column is still quite perpendicular--"
"Come, Max," interrupted my friend, "don't get sentimental till aftersupper. Go to work, and pluck that bird while I fill the kettle."
"If anything can drive away sentiment," I replied, taking up one of thebirds which we had shot that day, "the plucking and cleaning of thiswill do it."
"On the contrary, man," returned Lumley, taking up the tin kettle as hespoke, "true sentiment, if you had it, would induce you to moralise onthat bird as you plucked it--on the romantic commencement of its careeramid the reeds and sedges of the swamps in the great Nor'-west; on thebold flights of its maturer years over the northern wilderness intothose mysterious regions round the pole, which man, with all his vauntedpower and wisdom, has failed to fathom, and on the sad--I may even sayinglorious--termination of its course in a hunter's pot, to say nothingof a hunter's stom--"
"Lumley," said I, interrupting, "do try to hold your tongue, if you can,and go fill your kettle."
With a laugh he swung off to a spring that bubbled at the foot of a rockhard by, and when he returned I had my bird plucked, singed, split open,and cleaned out. You must understand, reader, that we were notparticular. We were wont to grasp the feathers in large handfuls, andsuch as would not come off easily we singed off.
"You see, Lumley," said I, when he came back, "I don't intend that thisbird shall end his career in the pot. I'll roast him."
"'Tis well, most noble Max, for I wouldn't let you pot him, even if youwished to. We have only one kettle, and that must be devoted to tea."
It was not long before the supper was ready. While it was preparingLumley and I sat chatting by the fire, and gazing in a sort of dreamydelight at the glorious view of land and water which we could seethrough an opening among the trees in front of us; for, not only wasthere the rich colouring of autumn everywhere--the greens, yellows,browns, and reds of mosses, grasses, and variegated foliage--but therewas a bright golden glow cast over all by the beams of the setting sun.
Ere long all this was forgotten as we lay under the starry sky inprofound slumber.
While we slept, the Creator was preparing that wonderful and beautifulchange to which I have referred. Clouds gradually overspread the sky--Iobserved this when, in a half-sleeping state I rose to mend our fire,but thought nothing of it. I did not, however, observe what followed,for sleep had overpowered me again the instant I lay down.
Softly, silently, persistently, and in large flakes, the snow must havefallen during the entire night, for, when we awoke it lay half a footdeep upon us, and when we shook ourselves free and looked forth we foundthat the whole landscape, far and near, was covered with the same purewhite drapery. The uniformity of the scene was broken by the knolls oftrees and shrubs and belts of forest which showed powerfully against thewhite ground, and by the water of the numerous ponds and lakes andstreams which, where calm, reflected the bright blue sky, and, whererough, sparkled in the rising sun; while every twig and leaf of bush andtree bore its little fringe or patch of snow, so that we were surroundedby the most beautiful and complicated forms of lacework conceivable ofNature's own making.
"It is glorious to look at," said Lumley, after our first burst ofenthusiasm, "but it will be troublesome to walk through, I fear."
We did not, however, find it as troublesome as we had expected; for,although nearly a foot deep, the snow was quite dry, owing to the frostwhich had set in, and we could drive it aside with comparative ease whenwe started on our journey homeward.
Arrived at the fort we found our men and the few Indians who had notleft us for their hunting-grounds, busy at the nets, or finishing thebuildings that were yet incomplete.
We also found that Big Otter had come in, bringing with him his wife,and his niece Waboose, with her mother. The health of the latter hadbroken down, and Big Otter had brought her to the fort in the hope thatthe white chief could do something for her.
"I'll do what I can," said Lumley, on hearing her case stated, "though Imake no pretence to being a medicine-man, but I will do this for you andher:--I will engage you, if you choose, to help Blondin at his fishery,and your wife to make moccasins for us. I'll also let you have thatlittle hut beside our kitchen to live in. You'll find it better andwarmer than a wigwam, and as there are two rooms in it you won't beovercrowded."
Big Otter was delighted with this arrangement, and I took him away atonce to show him the hut he was to occupy.
As this was the first time I had met with the unknown Englishman'swidow, and the mother of Waboose, it was with no little interest andcuriosity that I regarded her.
She was evidently in very bad health, but I could easily see that whenyoung she must have been a very handsome woman. Besides being tall andwell-formed, she had a most expressive countenance and a dignified air,coupled with a look of tender kindness in it, which drew me to her atonce. She seemed in many respects much superior--in manners andhabits--to the other Indian women of the tribe, though still far belowher daughter in that respect, and I could easily perceive that thelatter owed her great superiority and refinement of manner to herfather, though she might well have derived her gentleness from hermother.
What the illness was that broke that mother down I cannot tell. Itresembled consumption in some respects, though without the cough, butshe improved in health decidedly at first on getting into her new house,and set to work with zeal to assist in the making of moccasins and othergarments. Of course Waboose helped her; and, very soon after thisarrival, I began to give her lessons in the English language.
Lumley quizzed me a good deal about this at first, but afterwards hebecame more serious.
"Now, Max, my boy," he said to me, one evening when we were alone, inthat kindly-serious manner which seemed to come over him whenever he hadoccasion to find fault with any one, "it is all very well your givinglessons in English to that Indian girl, but what I want to know is, whatdo
you expect to be the upshot of it?"
"Marriage," said I with prompt decision, "if--if she will have me," Iadded with a more modest air.
My friend did not laugh or banter me, as I had expected, but in anearnest tone said:--
"But think, Max, you are only just entering on manhood; you can't besaid to know your own mind yet. Suppose, now, that you were to expressan intention to marry Waboose, the Hudson's Bay Company might objecttill you had at least finished your apprenticeship."
"But I would not think of it before that," said I.
"And then," continued Lumley, not noticing the interruption, "if you domarry her you can never more return to the civilised world, for she isutterly ignorant of its ways, and would feel so ill at ease there, andlook so much out of place, that you would be obliged to take to thewoods again, and live and die there--and--what would your father say tothat?"
I confess that this reference to my dear father shook me.
"But, Lumley," said I, "she is _not_ a mere Indian girl, and would _not_look out of place anywhere. Her father was obviously a gentleman, andhas tried, with much success I find, to cultivate a naturally gentle anddelicate mind and disposition in his child. Surely, very little isrequired to make a lady of her--I mean in the sense that societyunderstands by that term--and even if that were not possible, is merepolish to be weighed in the balance against gentleness, sweetness,unselfishness, tenderness, truthfulness, modesty, loving-kindness--tosay nothing of beauty--"
A hearty laugh interrupted me here.
"Oh! Max, I admit that polish must go down before such a splendid arrayof virtues. But," added my friend, becoming grave again, "is Waboose aChristian?"
"Yes," I replied, stoutly, "a far, far better Christian than I am, for Ifind that her father has taught her the truths of the Bible--and you--you see that _fruit_ in her which I fear you don't see much of in me."
"Well, we have not had much time to see the fruit yet, but now I mustspeak to you as your chief. You say you have no thought of marriagetill your apprenticeship is up. That is a good while yet. You maychange your mind."
"Never!" said I, with emphasis.
"Well, I respect your honourable feelings, my boy, but it is justpossible that even if she were willing (which has yet to be proved) shemay change _her_ mind, therefore you must promise me faithfully that inall this teaching of English there shall be no lovemaking. You arebound _in honour_, Max, to avoid trying to win her affections, or in anyway to influence her till--till time, a considerable time--shall havepassed."
"I promise you, Lumley, with all my heart. I think it is ennobling to aman to love a girl because of her pure and sterling qualitiesirrespective of her looks, and I would count it foul disgrace to doanything to win her unless I saw my way quite clearly to wed her."
"Which you do not at present, Max?"
"Which I do not at present, Lumley, so I will continue the lessons withthe air and manner of a heartless pedagogue!"
This having been arranged between us, the subject was dropped, and notagain referred to for many months.
Meanwhile winter advanced with rapid strides. One night an intensefrost set in and covered the entire lake, as far at least as we couldsee, with a sheet of pure ice. It had set fast in a profound calm, andthe surface was so smooth that every tree and bush on the outlyingislets was reflected as if in water. Indeed, it could scarcely be toldthat the ice was not water except by going on it.
Being a somewhat expert skater, and having brought my skates with me, Iput them on, resolved to enjoy a few hours of what used to be afavourite amusement when I was a boy. Lumley could not skate, to myregret; besides, he had no skates, and none of the men had ever learnedthe art, so that I was forced to skate alone. And at this time Ilearned a lesson about solitary amusement which I never afterwardsforgot.
"Max," said Lumley, as I went down to the lake, skates in hand, "whileyou're off amusing yourself I'll go finish the track on the hillside--that will afford amusement enough for me and the men. I'll give them aholiday, as it is such a splendid day."
"That's a new kind of holiday," said I with a laugh, as I fixed on myskates, "to set them to the finishing of a track!"
The track referred to was a straight wide cutting up the face of thehill at the side of the fort. Lumley had ordered the men to clear it oftrees and shrubs, from the hill-top--which extended far behind as wellas high above the fort--down to the edge of the lake. It had remainedin this unfinished state for some time, and now, being covered withsnow, formed a long white-floored avenue to the hill-top.
"I'm sorry you can't join me," said I, making a few circles beforestarting. "It feels _so_ selfish to go off alone."
"Never mind, old boy, off you go, and see that you don't get upon weakice."
Lumley waved his hand as he spoke, and I shot swiftly away over theglassy lake.
Oh! it was a glorious burst, that first dash over an apparentlyillimitable sheet of water, for, although small for an American lake,the opposite shore of Wichikagan was so far-off as to appear dim andlow, while, in one direction, the sky and water met at the horizon, sothat I enjoyed the romantic feeling of, as it were, skating out to sea!The strength of youth thrilled in every nerve and muscle; the vigour ofhealth and life coursed in every vein. I felt, just then, as ifexhaustion were impossible. The ice was so smooth that there was nosensation of roughness under foot to tell of a solid support. The swiftgliding motion was more like the skimming of the swallow than theskating of a man. The smallest impulse sent me shooting ahead with anease that almost surprised me. In sensation, as well as in appearance,I was rushing over a surface of water in which the sun was reflectedwith a brilliancy that quite dazzled me. I became almost wild withdelight. Indeed I grew reckless, and gave a sort of leap--with whatintent I know not--which caused the back of my head to smite the ice andmy body to proceed fifty yards or more on its back, with the legs in theair and a starry constellation corruscating in the brain!
Considerably sobered by this, I arose and cut the figure of eightthoughtfully for five minutes. After this I resumed my rapid pace,which I kept up until the necessity of pausing to recover breathimpressed me. Making a wide circle outwards with my left leg in the airand my right hand pointed to the sky in the most approved manner, Igradually caused the circle to diminish until I came to a stand.
Looking back, I saw Fort Wichikagan like a mere speck on the horizon.In the opposite direction the lake still presented a limitless horizon.On either side the distant shores marked, but could hardly be said tobound, the view, while, closer at hand, the islets were reflected in theice as clearly as if it had been water. I felt as if standing on aliquid ocean. Once more a bounding sense of joyous freedom and strengthfilled me. The starry corruscations had vanished. The bump on the backof my head had ceased to grieve me. Away I went again like--but wordsfail me. Imagery and description avail nothing when the indescribableis reached!
After an hour of this enjoyment I took to circling, and, in theexuberance of my feelings, attempted some quite new and complexperformances, which resulted in a few more corruscations and bumps. Butthese were trifles. I heeded them not.
At last, however, I stood still and became thoughtful. We must allbecome thoughtful sooner or later. A sense of loneliness began tooppress me, and I longed for companionship in my joy. Knowing that thiswas a useless longing, I cast it aside and resumed my evolutions,rushes, bumps, and corruscations. But it would not do. The longingreturned with redoubled violence. After another hour I turned to skatehomeward, very much toned down in spirits, and deeply convinced of thetruth--in more senses than one--of the words, "It is not good that manshould be alone."
Before leaving this subject I may add that I tried skating again thenext day, but again grew weary of it in less than an hour for want ofcompanionship; that I made up my mind, in disgust to try no more; andthat, on the day following, sympathetic Nature aided me in my resolve bycovering the entire lake with eighteen inches of snow--thus rendering my
once favourite exercise impossible.
But, to return. When I drew near to the fort, I observed that severalblack specks were gliding with lightning speed down the white track onthe hillside which Lumley had undertaken to finish. These specks, afterdescending the steep hill, slid over the level shore and shot far outupon the lake, where some of them seemed to roll over and over.Wondering what this could be, I put on a spurt. Suddenly the truthdawned upon me. My friend Lumley had cleared the slope for the purposeof sledging down it!
"Max," he had remarked to me, long before, when talking about our menand our plans, "`All work and no play,' you know, `makes Jack a dullboy;' so I'll get up some kind of winter amusement for the lads whichwill keep them in health and spirits."
Need I say that my recent cogitations and experience led me to join thisriotous crew with redoubled ardour? Taking off my skates hurriedly andclimbing up the hill, I leaped on the tail of Big Otter's toboggan,without invitation, just as he was starting at the top of the snow-slopeto follow Lumley. I gave the sled such an impetus that we overtook ourchief, and upset him just as he reached the lake, causing him to collidewith Donald Bane and James Dougall, who, seated on the same toboggan,were anxiously striving to keep their balance. The result was, that weall resolved ourselves into a conglomerate of toboggans and men, whichwent shooting and struggling over the smooth lake for fifty yards orupwards at the rate of twelve miles an hour, if not more. This, ofcourse, afforded unutterable delight to the rest of our men, and toWaboose and her mother; as well as to several Indians, who had justarrived. Among these last were Attick and Maqua with his son Mozwa.
It was rough but health-giving, as well as enjoyable, work, and sent usto our respective beds that night in a condition of readiness to fallpromptly into a state of absolute oblivion.