CHAPTER THREE.
A TERRIFIC SNOWSTORM--KEPENAU'S TIMELY APPEARANCE--WE VISIT KEPENAU'SCAMP--HIS HOSPITALITY--AN INDIAN'S DREAD OF THE "FIRE WATER"--WE BIDADIEU TO OUR INDIAN FRIENDS--OUR ARRIVAL AT THE LOGGING ENCAMPMENT--JACQUES MICHAUD TAKES A FANCY TO MIKE--JACQUES' RAFT STORY--MY UNCLE ANDI START ON OUR RETURN--WE ARE ATTACKED BY A FIERCE PACK OF WOLVES, ANDARE SAVED BY KEPENAU AND HIS MEN--MIKE LAFFAN IN A DIFFICULTY--WE RESCUEHIM--ASHATEA, KEPENAU'S DAUGHTER--MY VISIT TO LILY--MR. AND MRS.CLAXTON--DORA AND REUBEN--REUBEN VISITS OUR HUT--THE MARTEN ANDPORCUPINE--AN OPOSSUM-HUNT.
The snow had for some time been falling lightly, but the wind which hadarisen blew it off the ice, and thus it did not impede our progress; butthat same wind, which was now by a turn of the river brought directlyahead of us, soon increased in strength, and drove the particles ofsnow, sharp as needles, into our faces. Indeed, the cold every instantbecame more intense, while the snow fell more thickly.
"Faix, and it's moighty loike a shower of penknives, mixed with needlesand pins!" cried Mike. "It's a hard matther to keep the eyes open.What will we be afther doing, Mr Mark, if it gets worse?"
"We'll go on till it does get worse," said Uncle Mark. "It would not doto turn back now."
Mike said no more, but, bending down his head, worked away manfully withmight and main.
I did my best to keep up, but I may say that seldom have I endured suchsuffering. At last I felt that I could stand it no longer; so Iproposed to my uncle that we should make for the shore, and there builda hut, light a fire, and wait till the storm was over.
He was, however, bent upon going on. "We should be half-frozen beforewe could get up a wigwam," he answered.
Just then I heard a voice hailing us in gruff tones, and I guessed itwas that of an Indian; but we had no reason to dread the Indians ofthese parts. As we looked about to see from whence it proceeded, Icaught sight of the tops of two or three wigwams just peeping out from acedar-bush at a little distance from the shore.
"Friends, come here!" exclaimed some one, and we observed an Indianmaking towards us; whereupon we turned round and skated up to him.
"Ah, friends! I know you," he said. "You cannot face the storm, whichwill soon blow stronger still. Come to my wigwam, where you shall haveshelter till it has passed by."
As he spoke I recognised my old friend Kepenau, whom I had not seensince we had come to our present location. I had so grown, too, that hedid not at first recognise me.
Having taken off our skates, we followed him to his camp, where heintroduced us to several other Indians and their squaws, among whom werea number of children of all ages.
The thick cedar-bushes sheltered the spot completely from the wind, andthe fire which burned in the centre afforded us a welcome warmth; for,in spite of the exercise we had gone through, our blood was chilled bythe piercing snowstorm. The Indians were dressed partly in skins, andpartly in garments made of blankets, received from the white men; mostof the squaws wore a large blanket over their heads, forming a cloak inwhich they were shrouded. The wigwams were constructed of long thinpoles, fastened at the top, and spread out in a conical form, the wholebeing covered thickly with slabs of birch-bark.
Our red-skinned hosts put us at once at our ease; and I asked Kepenauhow he came to be in that part of the country.
"The white men compelled us to move westward," he answered. "They haveplanted on our lands, and shot the game on which we subsisted; andthough I should have been content to remain among them and adopt theircustoms, yet my people wished to live as our fathers have lived; and Iwould not desert them. My desire is to instruct them in the truths Ihave myself learned; and it is only by dwelling with them, and showingthem that I love them, that I can hope to do that."
We had much interesting conversation with Kepenau, and I was surprisedat the amount of information on religious subjects which he possessed;indeed. I confess that he put us all to shame.
Uncle Mark looked grave, and sighed. "I used once to read my Bible, andlisten gladly to God's Word read and preached, when I lived with my goodfather and mother in the `old country,' though I have sadly neglected itsince I came out here," he said; "but I will do so no longer. You havereminded me of my duty, friend Kepenau."
"What you say makes me glad. Keep to your resolve, for you cannot doGod's will without reading his Word, to know what that will is,"remarked Kepenau.
Our host gave up one of the wigwams for our special use, in the centreof which a fire burned, prevented from spreading by a circle of stones.The ground around the sides was covered with thick rushes which servedas our beds, and we lay with our feet towards the fire. Severe as wasthe cold outside, and thin as appeared the walls, the heat from the firekept us thoroughly warm; and I never slept more soundly in my life, for,although our hosts were Redskins, we felt as secure as in our own hut.Notwithstanding that the storm raged without, the wigwams were so wellprotected by the cedar-bushes that the fierce wind failed to reach us.
In the morning, when we came out of our wigwam we found that the squawshad prepared breakfast; which consisted of dried venison, cakes madefrom Indian corn, and fish which had been caught before the frost setin, and had remained hard-frozen ever since.
"You can now continue your journey, for the storm has ceased; and maythe Great Spirit protect you!" observed Kepenau, looking up at the sky,across which the clouds were now scarcely moving.
Uncle Mark inquired why he did not bring his camp nearer the settlement.
"I will tell you," answered Kepenau. "Though I have been ever friendlywith the white men, and value the advantages to be obtained from them,there is one thing for which I fear them,--their accursed `fire water.'Already it has slain thousands of my people, or reduced them to a statelower than the brutes which perish; and I know not whether my young menwould resist the temptation were it placed in their way."
"But all the white men do not sell the `fire water' of which you speak,"observed Uncle Mark. "I have none in my hut."
"But while one among you possesses the poison, and is ready to barter itwith my people, the harm may be done," answered Kepenau. "Until I amsure that none of the `fire water' exists in your settlement, I will notallow my people to come near it."
"I am afraid, then, that you will fail to civilise them, as you desire,"observed Uncle Mark.
"Do you call it civilising them, to teach them the vices of the whitemen?" exclaimed the Indian in a tone of scorn. "If so, then I wouldrather that they remained savages, as you call them, than obtainknowledge at such a price."
"I believe that you are right," answered Uncle Mark, as we bade our hostand his family good-bye; "and I have learned more than one lesson fromyou."
Kepenau accompanied us to the bank of the river; where we put on ourskates, and continued our course without interruption till we caughtsight of several thin wreaths of smoke above the tops of the trees.
"Sure, that smoke must come from the lumberers' fires," observed Mike.
"Such is probably the case; but it is just possible that it may proceedfrom a camp of Indians, who might not be so friendly as those we leftthis morning," said my uncle.
Still we were not to be stopped, and on we skated. Even should we meetenemies, we had not much cause to fear them, unless they possessedfirearms. On we went, I say, gliding along at the rate of ten or twelvemiles an hour; and as I had never before had an opportunity ofperforming so great a distance, I enjoyed it amazingly.
As we advanced we caught sight of numerous logs of timber hauled outinto the middle of the stream. Shortly afterwards the sound of voicesreached our ears, and we saw a number of men scattered about--someengaged, with gleaming axes, in felling trees; others with horsesdragging the trunks, placed on sleighs, over the hard snow on to theice. They were there arranged alongside each other, and bound togetherso as to form numerous small rafts. Here they would remain until thegiving way of the frost; when, on the disappearance of the ice, theywould be floated down towards the mouth of the river and towed
acrossthe lake to the various saw-mills on its banks.
We were glad to be welcomed by the "boss;" who at once engaged UncleMark and Mike to hew, while I was to undertake the less onerous task ofdriving a team.
The shores of the river had been already pretty well cleared of largetimber, so that I had to bring the trunks from some distance.
Uncle Mark and Laffan soon showed that they were well practised axemen.
Our companions were to spend some months engaged in the occupation Ihave described; till the return of spring, in fact, when, the raftsbeing put together, they would descend the river till rapids orcataracts were reached. The rafts would then be separated, and each logof timber, or two or three together at most, would be allowed to maketheir way as they best could down the fall, till they reached calm waterat the foot of it; when they would be again put together, and navigatedby the raftsmen guiding them with long poles. In some places, whererough rocks exist in the rapids by which the timber might be injured,slides had been formed. These slides are channels, or rather canals, asthey are open at the top; and are constructed of thick boards--just asmuch water being allowed to rush down them as will drive on the logs.Some of these slides are two hundred feet long; others reach even to thelength of seven hundred feet. The timbers are placed on cribs,--whichare frames to fit the slides,--then, with a couple of men on them toguide their course, when they get through they shoot away at a furiousrate down the inclined plane, and without the slightest risk of injury.
When evening approached we all assembled in a huge shanty, which hadbeen built under the shelter of the thick bush. Round it were arrangedrows of bunks, with the cooking-stove in the centre, which was keptburning at all hours, and served thoroughly to warm our abode. On eachside of the stove were tables, with benches round them. Here we tookour meals; which, although sufficient, were not too delicate,--salt porkbeing the chief dish. Rough as were the men, too, they were tolerablywell-behaved; but quarrels occasionally took place, as might have beenexpected among such a motley crowd.
On the first evening of our arrival Mike's fiddle attracted universalattention, and he was, of course, asked to play a tune.
"Why thin, sure, I will play one with all the pleasure in life," heanswered. "And, sure, some of you gintlemen will be afther loiking totake a dance;" and without more ado he seated himself on the top of abench at the further end of the shanty, and began to scrape away withmight and main, nodding his head and kicking his heels to keep time.The effect was electrical. The tables were quickly removed to the sidesof the shanty; and every man, from the "boss" downwards, began shufflingaway, circling round his neighbour, leaping from the ground, andshrieking at the top of his voice.
When Mike's fiddle was not going, our lumbering companions were wont tospin long yarns, as we sat at the supper-table. Several of them hadworked up the northern rivers of Canada, where the winter lasts muchlonger than it does in the district I am describing; and among these wasa fine old French Canadian, Jacques Michaud by name, who had come southwith a party, tempted by the prospect of obtaining a pocketful ofdollars. He stood six feet two inches in his stockings; and hisstrength was in proportion to his size. At the same time, he was one ofthe most good-natured and kind-hearted men I ever met.
Among our party were several rough characters; and it happened that oneevening two of them fell out. They were about to draw their knives,when Jacques seized each of them in his vice-like grasp, and, holdingthem at arm's-length, gradually lifted them off the ground. There hekept them; mildly expostulating,--now smiling at one, and now at theother,--till they had consented to settle their dispute amicably; hethen set them on their legs again, and made them shake hands.
This man took a great fancy to Mike. "Ah, I do wish all your countrymenwere like you," he observed, smiling benignantly on him; "but they aregenerally very different, especially when they get the grog on board:then they often lose their lives,--and all their own fault, too.
"I had come down the Ottawa with several rafts, some two hundred milesor more. My own raft was manned by Canadians,--steady boys, who stuckto our laws, whatever they do to those of other people, and kept sobertill they brought their raft safe into dock. Another raft was mannedchiefly by Irishmen,--who, although I warned them, would indulge instrong drink. We were nearing the Chaudiere Falls, and I had brought myraft safe to shore, where it was taken to pieces, so that the logs mightbe sent down the slide. I had gone on to a point where I could watchthis being done, when I heard loud cries; and on looking up the river Isaw that part of another raft, with four men on it, had got adrift, and,to my horror, was hurrying towards the most dangerous part of therapids. I saw at once that in a few moments it must be dashed topieces, and, as I thought, the fate of the four unfortunates on it wassurely sealed.
"On it hurried, whirling round and round amid the foaming waters. Thenext instant dashing against the rocks, it separated into as manyfragments as there were timbers, each of which was whirled down towardsthe falls. Three of the poor wretches soon disappeared among thetossing waves; but the fourth clung to the end of a piece of timber withthe grasp of despair--to that end which reached nearly to the edge ofthe cataract. A fearful position! Still, the Irishman held on. I wasalmost sure that the next moment would be his last; but just then thecurrent turned the log, so that the opposite end pointed to the fall.On it went, with even greater rapidity than at first; then balancing foran instant on the brink, the end to which he held was lifted up high inthe air, and he was sent from it as from a catapult, far out into thecalm water below the caldron! I never expected again to see him, but herose uninjured to the surface; and being a good swimmer, struck outboldly till he was picked up by one of several canoes which put offinstantly to his assistance. Tim Nolan, I have a notion, was the firstman who ever came over those terrific falls and lived; and I would notadvise any of you young fellows to try the experiment, for, in myopinion, he is the last who will ever do so and escape destruction."
Such was one of the many anecdotes I heard from the lips of old Jacquesand our other associates.
I was not sorry when, after some weeks, Uncle Mark told me that he hadmade up his mind to return home. Mike had agreed to finish a job whichwould occupy him a day or so longer; but as Uncle Mark was anxious to beoff, it was settled that he and I should start together, leaving therifle with Mike, as he would have to come on alone. We believed that noanimals were likely at that season to attack two people; besides, UncleMark had purchased a pair of pistols from Jacques Michaud, which heconsidered would be sufficient for our defence. Accordingly, pocketingour dollars and slinging our wolf-skin knapsacks over our backs, we puton our skates and commenced our journey.
We got on famously, for the air was calm, although the cold was intense.We found our friend Kepenau, too, encamped where we had left him; andstopping for a short time, we took our mid-day meal with him. As we hadmade such good progress during the morning, we hoped to reach the hutbefore midnight, for the moon was up, and we could not miss our way.Uncle Mark was in good spirits, well satisfied with the result of ourexpedition, and we laughed and chatted as we glided over the smooth ice.
"We must not forget our wolf-skin," I observed. "We shall get up to thespot before daylight is over, and I would rather carry it on my backthan leave it behind."
"I shall not let you do that," answered my uncle. "It will weigh lesson my shoulders than on yours."
We were approaching a part of the river where, the ice having formedbefore the snow fell, we should be compelled to take off our skates andtravel on foot. I had just remarked that I supposed the wolves had goneoff to some other district, where game was more abundant than with us,when a howl reached our ears, coming down the stream, from the verydirection in which we were going. Another and another followed.Presently we heard the full chorus of a whole pack, and soon we caughtsight of numerous dark spots on the white snow in the distance.
Uncle Mark watched them for an instant or two. "We must beat a retreat,Roger,
or the brutes will be upon us. We cannot hope to fight our waythrough them. Off we go!" and turning round, we skated away for dearlife in the direction from whence we had come.
We hoped soon to distance the savage creatures; in which case, losingsight and scent of us, they might turn off into the forest and leave theroad clear. As we went on, however, we heard their cries becoming moreand more distinct; and casting a glance over our shoulders, we saw, toour horror, that they had already gained considerably on us; for withtheir light bodies they ran very quickly over the hard-frozen snow.
Forward we dashed, faster than I had ever skated before; but nearer andnearer grew those terrible sounds. When once, however, the wolvesreached the smooth ice, they were no longer able to run so fast asbefore; still, they gradually gained on us, and we felt sure that erelong they must be at our heels, as they were not now likely to give upthe chase.
"Never give up while life remains! Keep on, keep on, Roger!" criedUncle Mark. "My pistols will do for two of their leaders; our sticksmust knock over some of the others; and we must hope that the rest ofthe pack will stop to devour their carcasses."
It might have been a quarter of an hour after this, although the timeappeared longer, when, looking round, I saw a dozen wolves at leastwithin twenty yards of us.
"We must try a dodge I have heard of," said Uncle Mark. "When they getnear us we must wheel rapidly round, and as they cannot turn on the iceso fast as we can, we shall gain on them."
We waited until the wolves were almost up to us, then we followed theproposed plan. The brutes, after rushing on a short distance, tried toturn also. In doing so, those behind tumbled over their leaders, and weskated on as before. We did this several times, until the cunningwolves, perceiving our object, instead of turning kept straight forward.Uncle Mark now drew one of his pistols, and as he skated round shot theleading wolf. It rolled over dead. The next he treated in the samemanner. We then brought our sticks down on the heads of several others.
As we had expected, their followers instantly began tearing away at thedead bodies, and this enabled us to get some distance ahead of them. Iwas in hopes that they would be content with this feast, and allow us toproceed unmolested; but before long our ears were again saluted withtheir abominable howls, and we saw the survivors of the pack comingalong in full chase.
As we skated on Uncle Mark deliberately reloaded his pistols, observing,"We shall have to play the same game over again, and I hope we shallplay it as well."
The wolves, however, seemed resolved not to let us escape. They nearlyovertook us; and though we turned, skating away now to the right and nowto the left bank of the river, they declined imitating our example.
"Our best chance is to keep straight on," said Uncle Mark. "Don't givein, whatever you do. Our legs are as strong as theirs, and they willbegin to get tired at last."
I was not so sure of that till, looking back for a moment, I saw thatthe pack was drawn out into a long line, showing that some, at allevents--probably the younger animals--were losing wind. If, however,only one brute had succeeded in catching hold of our legs, it would havebeen all up with us.
Fearfully depressing indeed were their howls; as they sounded closebehind us, they almost took the life out of me. Two of the largest ofthe brutes were not five yards from us, and I was already beginning tofeel as if their sharp fangs were fixed in the calves of my legs, when Isaw several figures in the distance, and faint shouts were borne on thebreeze towards us.
"Courage, Roger! courage!" cried Uncle Mark. "Put forth all yourstrength, and we shall be saved. Those are friends."
As we moved on we perceived Kepenau and a number of Indians rushingtowards us, flourishing sticks, and shouting at the top of their voices.Kepenau himself, and three others, were armed with rifles.
"Turn on one side," he shouted, "and let us aim at the wolves."
We followed his advice; when four rifle-shots sent over as many of thehowling brutes. The rest, frightened by the shouts of the Indians asmuch probably as by the death of their companions, turned off on oneside, and allowed us to escape. Instead, however, of going back, theycontinued their course down the river. Probably they had been bound inthat direction when they first winded us.
We were saved; but so overcome were we by our long-continued violentexertions, that, had not our Indian friends caught us in their arms, weshould have sunk exhausted on the ice. Taking off our skates, theysupported us between their arms to their camp. Here, seated on mats,with our feet before the fire, we were kindly tended by the squaws, whorubbed our ankles and legs, and bathed our feet in water. Some warmbroth--we did not examine too minutely the ingredients--quickly restoredus; and we were able to give an account of our adventure.
It was now too late to think of continuing our journey that night, sothe Indians pressed us to remain with them till the next morning;promising to ascertain the direction taken by the pack of wolves, sothat we might not run the risk of again falling in with the hungrybrutes.
Kepenau would not allow us to use our own provisions,--observing that wemight want them the next day,--and he insisted on supplying us witheverything needful.
We slept soundly, but when I tried to get up next morning I felt littleable to continue the journey. I did not so much feel the effects of theexercise as of the anxiety I had so long endured. Even Uncle Mark wasvery stiff, and seemed inclined to enjoy a longer rest.
The Indians told us that during the night the wolves had come back;probably to devour the carcasses of their slain companions. It wasthought probable that they had returned up the river. One of the menwent out to ascertain this, and on coming back told us that the firstsurmise was correct--that the pack had indeed gone up the river, butthat it had afterwards gone down again, as was evident from the bloodymarks left by their feet.
Suddenly my uncle exclaimed: "By-the-by, Mike will be on his way homesome time to-day; and if so, it is more than possible that he may fallin with the wolves! Though he has a gun, it will go hard with himshould they follow his trail."
My uncle accordingly expressed his fears to Kepenau.
"Then we must set out to meet your white friend," said the Indian; "forshould he be coming over the ice to-day, the wolves are certain to espyhim."
Mike had told me that he would visit our Indian friends on the way, andspend the night with them, should he start too late to perform the wholedistance in one day. The recollection of this increased my apprehensionfor his safety.
Kepenau said that he and four of the best-armed of his people would setout early in the afternoon to look for our friend. Of course, weinsisted on accompanying them; and being pretty well rested, we startedat the hour proposed. We put on our skates, but the Indians kept pacewith us by running.
We went on and on, but no sign could we see of Mike. It was alreadygetting dusk when Kepenau stopped and examined the ice.
"A man has passed this way," he said, "and has turned off to the right."
Telling one of his people to follow up the trail, he proceeded onwards,narrowly scrutinising the ice.
"It is as I thought," he observed; "he was coming along on foot when hesaw a pack of wolves following him, and instead of continuing on the icehe made his way for the shore, to try and reach a tree into which hecould climb--the wisest thing he could do."
Having made this remark, he led the way in the direction the otherIndian had taken. He soon overtook him; but as darkness was increasingwe had to proceed slowly, so as not to lose the trail, which I wasutterly unable to perceive. The banks here were of a low, marshynature, so that there were few trees about up which the fugitive couldhave escaped. I did not confidently expect to meet Mike on thisoccasion, for he, I thought, would have come along on his skates,whereas this person, the Indian said, was on foot.
We had not gone far when Kepenau stopped. "That is the howl of wolves,"he observed; "but it is accompanied by a curious sound, and they are nothowling in their usual fashion."
Advancing furthe
r, I could clearly distinguish the howling of thewolves, accompanied by another sound.
"Why, as I am alive, those are the tones of Mike Laffan's fiddle!"exclaimed Uncle Mark. "He is safe, at all events--that is one comfort;but it is a curious place to be playing in."
Kepenau now told us that the path we were following would lead us to theruins of an old fort, erected by the early French settlers, and that hehad little doubt our friend had found his way to it for refuge from thewolves; but they had followed him, and were certainly not far off.
We hurried on, and as the sounds of the fiddle became more distinct, thefull moon rose from behind a dark mass which proved to be a ruined wallof the building; and immediately afterwards, directly in front of us, wediscovered Mike Laffan seated on one of the time-worn and rickety beamswhich had once formed part of the fort. There he was, bow in hand,fiddling with might and main; while below him were a whole pack ofwolves, their mouths open, singing an inharmonious chorus to his music.So entranced were they, that the brutes actually did not discover us;nor, so far as we could see, were they making any attempt to reach Mike.
At a sign from Kepenau we stopped; but Mike, though he had perceived us,went on fiddling. Presently he changed the tune to one of extraordinaryrapidity: this evidently astonished his vulpine audience, which began toleap about. Suddenly he exclaimed, "Now! shout, friends, shout! and weshall put the spalpeens of wolves to flight." As we raised our voiceshe made his instrument produce the most fearful shrieks and cries, whilehe uttered at the same time a true Irish howl.
Mike's plan had the desired effect. The wolves, bewildered by thestrange sounds, were seized with terror, and off they scampered like apack of curs, howling and biting at each other as they rushed alongtowards the forest, in which they soon disappeared.
Mike on this jumped down from his perch, laughing heartily, and thankedus all for having come to his assistance. Of course, our opportuneappearance had very much astonished him; but we soon explained matters,and expressed our hope that he was none the worse for his adventure.
"Sorra a bit," he answered, "except that I am mighty cowld, sitting upthere among the snow for so long; but I'll soon be afther warming mylimbs."
Saying this he set off with us, and at a rapid rate we retraced oursteps to the Indian camp. We were all glad enough to turn in; and nextmorning our friends, after examining the country around, assured us thatthe wolves were not likely to follow our footsteps.
My uncle had taken a great liking to Kepenau, and invited him to comeand pitch his camp near us; promising to supply him with powder andshot, and also to assist him in trading with the white men so that norisk might be run of whisky being given in exchange for game and furs.Kepenau said he would think about the matter.
One of the young squaws who happened to be present was his daughter. Onhearing of the invitation, she begged her father to accept it. She wasfar superior to the other Indian women in appearance; and although notso old as Lily, she was taller than any of them. Her complexion was ofthe lightest olive, through which rich colour could be seen on hercheeks. She was, indeed, fairer than many Europeans. Her figure wasextremely graceful, too. I did not, however, observe this when I firstsaw her, for she was then dressed in her thick blanket robe. Her namewas Ashatea, or "White Poplar;" a very suitable name, as I thought. Shehad seen Lily, I found, two or three times, before they had movedwestward; and she longed, she told me, to meet her again, and beggedthat I would tell Lily so when I returned home. It was this that madeher so anxious that her father and his tribe should come and camp nearus.
Before we started, Kepenau had almost promised to come, though he wouldnot bind himself to do so. "Circumstances might change," he observed."He was well located where his camp was pitched, and it was trying workto change quarters at that season of the year."
Ashatea accompanied us, with her people, down to the ice. "Do notforget," she said, "my message to your sister Lily."
"You may trust me," I answered, making her a bow--for I felt that shewas a lady, although an Indian squaw; then off we set, hoping this timeto reach home before nightfall. Having completely recovered from ourfatigue, we got on famously. Mike did not forget to secure thewolf-skin; and just as the sun sank behind the trees, we were saluted bythe sharp, joyous barking of Snap, Yelp, and Pop, and by the gruffertones of Quambo, who rushed out of the hut to welcome us home.
We had plenty of work to do after we returned home, but I managed tomake a run over to the settlement to pay a visit to my uncle and auntand Lily. I did not fail to give her Ashatea's message; and she wasmuch pleased to hear of her.
"I do hope they will come into our neighbourhood; I should be so glad tosee her again," said Lily. "Ashatea promised to take me out in hercanoe; for, you know, she is as expert as any of the men in paddlingone. She wished to show me how the Indians catch fish. And then shesaid that when the rice was ripe we should go to the rice-lake tocollect it. I hope that Aunt Hannah won't object. It would be veryinteresting; and there could be no possible danger, as all the Indiansin this part of the country are friendly. But, to tell you the truth,Roger, I am quite jealous of you, as you are now able to go out into theforest by yourself, and meet with all sorts of adventures; whilst I,alas! am compelled to stay at home, with no other amusement thanoccasionally a `sewing' or an `apple bee.'"
I, of course, sympathised with Lily, and said that I wished Aunt Hannahwould let her come out with me, and that I should take very great careof her.
"I am afraid that she thinks we are now too old to run about together aswe used to do, when you were a boy and I was a girl," she answered.
"I wish, then, that we were young again!" I exclaimed; "although Ishould not then be able to take as much care of you as I can now. Iwould sooner die, Lily, than allow any harm to happen to you."
"That I am sure you would, Roger," she said; "and I should not be afraidto trust myself with you anywhere."
We were not very old even then, I should remark: but I was feelingmyself a man, and was ready to do all sorts of manly things.
"By-the-by," observed Lily, "we have become intimate with a family amongthe settlers who arrived last fall,--Mr and Mrs Claxton, and Doratheir daughter, a very nice girl of my age, and a great friend of mine.Dora has a brother called Reuben, and I think you will like him.Although he is younger than you are, he seems to be a fine fellow, andhas your taste for natural history and sporting."
"I shall be very glad to meet with him; but I have not time to look himup now, as I must get back to the hut. But you may tell him about me;and say that, if he will come over, I shall be happy to take him outinto the forest, where we can have a hunt together."
Although I had said that I must go immediately, I lingered for some timewith Lily, for I never was in a hurry to leave her. It was consequentlyquite dark before I got half-way to the hut; still, I knew the path--indeed, there was only one. The snow, however, thickly covered theground, and I had to guide myself by feeling the scores on the trunks ofthe trees. Had every tree been thus marked, there would have been nogreat difficulty; but, of course, they were scored only at intervals,and sometimes I was uncertain whether I had not somehow got out of thedirect line. I knew that, did I once go wrong, it would be a hardmatter, if not impossible, to find my way back again. There might bewolves prowling about, too; or I might by chance find myself in thegrasp of a hungry bear, bent on a visit to the hog-pens in thesettlement. Intending to return early, I had left without my gun--anact of folly I resolved not to repeat. Should I lose myself, I shouldhave no means of making a signal, and I might very possibly be frozen todeath before the morning.
I had gone some distance without finding a score, and I began to fearthat I really had lost myself; but it would not do to stand still, so Iwalked on; and greatly to my relief, as I touched tree after tree, I atlength felt a scored one, and knew that I was in the right direction.Presently a light appeared ahead. I ran towards it, shouting at the topof my voice. A welcome halloo came from
Mike, who was standing, with apine torch in his hand, at the door of the hut.
Two days after this, a tall lad, of fair complexion, made his appearanceat the hut, gun in hand, and introduced himself as Reuben Claxton."Miss Lily, who is a great friend of my sister Dora, told me that youwould be glad to see me; and so I have come, and I should much like tohave a hunt with you in the forest," he said abruptly.
It was his way, I found. He always went directly to the point, whetherin talking or in doing anything: and I liked him the better for that.
Uncle Mark invited him to stay with us.
"I said that I would if you asked me, so they will not be expecting meat home again," he answered.
In ten minutes we were on as friendly terms as if we had known eachother all our lives. Next day we started with our guns, accompanied byMike and Quambo, and our three dogs. The sky was bright, the air calm,and, except for the snow and the leafless trees, we might have supposedourselves to have been in the middle of summer.
We had not gone far when we caught sight of an animal making its wayalong the trunk of a fallen tree. I soon recognised it to be a marten,and was just going to fire, when I perceived another creature coming outof a hole hard by. The former animal was evidently bent on attackingthe latter. The marten immediately stopped, and carefully eyed thehermit, the character of which I could not at first make out on accountof the distance it was from us. Quambo would probably have known, buthe and Mike were some way behind us. Of the marten I had no doubt; Irecognised it by its agile and graceful movements, by its length, whichwas about a foot and a half, with a bushy tail somewhat under a footlong, and by its dark tawny coat and white throat, its pointed muzzle,and bright and lively eyes. We stopped to watch what would take place,keeping back the dogs, which were about to rush forward and seize theanimals.
The marten soon made up its mind to assault its opponent, which, insteadof retreating into its hole, came boldly forward and ascended the fallentrunk. I at once saw that it was an "urson," or porcupine; although mycompanion supposed it to be another animal, as he could not see the longquills with which the English porcupine is armed. This creature wasfully two feet long. Its back was covered with thick hair of a duskybrown colour; its head was short, and its nose blunt; it had small roundears, very powerful teeth, short limbs, and feet armed with strongcrooked claws. These particulars I was afterwards able to exhibit tohim.
The porcupine stood eyeing its opponent for nearly a minute; then themarten began the attack by showing its teeth, erecting its hairs, andspringing forward with graceful bounds. At the same time the porcupine,erecting an armour of quills, which had till then been concealed underits thick hair, appeared all at once to become twice its former size.The marten had too much impetus to stop its attempt to seize theporcupine by the snout; but the latter, suddenly whisking round, dealtthe marten a tremendous blow with its tail, filling its body with shortdarts, and sending it off the trunk sprawling among the snow.
The marten was now animated by rage as well as by the desire to captureits foe. It again sprang up, ran along the boughs of the fallen tree,and advanced once more towards the porcupine; but its courage andagility did not avail it. Another blow from that formidable tail castit once more into the snow; while the porcupine looked down withcontempt on its defeated antagonist. Reuben, taking good aim with hisrifle, put the marten out of misery; while I killed the victoriousporcupine. The dogs then rushed forward; but Snap, the most eager, hadreason to repent his eagerness, as before we could keep him off theanimal he had received several sharp quills in his jaws. These weimmediately extracted, but he never again attempted to seize either aliving or a dead porcupine.
We killed another marten and some squirrels, and were returning homejust at sundown, when we met Uncle Mark, who had followed our trail--nodifficult thing to do over the snow, even for a white man. He had justbefore caught sight of an opossum, which had escaped him. It hadevidently paid a visit to our poultry-yard a short time previously, andhaving succeeded in carrying off one of the inhabitants, was making itsway with its prey to its mate or hungry family when Uncle Mark overtookit. He had knocked it over with his stick, and supposed it dying ordead, as it lay with open mouth, extended tongue, and dim eyes. At thatmoment he had caught sight of a marten or some other animal movingthrough the forest. The creature thereupon proved that it was only"'possuming;" for the instant his eye was withdrawn it sprang up, andset off at a rate which showed that its powers of locomotion, at least,had not been impaired by the blows it had received.
He was telling us this, when the dogs began to yelp, and presently rightahead of us appeared a creature of the size of a large cat.
"Dere a 'possum," exclaimed Quambo; and we hurried after it with thedogs.
"Master 'Possum" was not going to be caught so easily, however. In aninstant it was up a tree, and lost to sight amid the branches, while thedogs yelped around it.
"The creature is lost," cried Reuben.
"No fear ob dat," answered Quambo. "We soon find him out."
Then he and Mike, with the rest of us, began to collect all the decayedbranches to be found above the snow. We soon bad enough wood for afire; when Quambo striking a light, it quickly blazed up, and the flamesexhibited the opossum making its way along one of the branches. Thedogs leaped about, and yelped loudly. Quambo had thrown himself on theground to watch the animal's proceedings; for the moment we hadattempted to take aim, it had nimbly sprung round to the dark side,apparently watching us as eagerly as we were watching it. Mike on thishurried off to a little distance and lifted his rifle. He fired, anddown came the opossum.
The dogs seized it, and in a few moments life was extinct. There was noshamming now, though the Irishman gave it another blow, after we hadtaken off the dogs, just to make sure. He having slung it over hisback, we put out the fire to prevent the risk of igniting the trees, andproceeded homewards well content with our evening's sport.
It was the last idle day we had for some time, for we had an abundanceof work to get through before the return of spring, which was nowrapidly approaching. It was the least pleasant time of the year, too;for we had thaws of two or three days at a time, during which thehardened snow was turned into slush. Then frost would come on again,and hold the timber with such a grasp that we could not move it. Weoccupied the time in putting up sheds, and in such other work as couldbe done before the ground was clear. No one, however, complained; forwe knew that the snow would soon disappear, that the leaves would againcome forth, and that the rivers would be open, when we should be able tomove about much more rapidly in our canoes than we had done over thefrozen ground.