CHAPTER XIII
Mary
"Are you ready, Mary?"
"In one minute, Father. Let me see: three bags, a valise, ahold-all, a portmanteau, two hatboxes, a camping sack, a case ofbooks, and a handbag. Oh dear, what a collection of things to lookafter! How I wish we were like the dogs, dear creatures, whichgrow their own clothes and have only their tails to hold up, or towag in sign of amity!"
The speaker was a girl of perhaps twenty, although she had one ofthose quiet reserved faces which render difficult a correctguessing of the age. She was standing in the porch of the BellevueHotel, Temiskaming, and was garbed as if for rough travel, in coatand skirt of heather-brown cloth, faced with brown leather, with abrown hat on her head, and brown boots on her feet which reachedwell above the ankle. Indeed her attire was so trim, and soexceedingly suitable for rough work, that everyone at the firstglance decided she must be English.
"I fancy you would not care to wear the same coat always, nor yetto wag the same tail," laughed her father, a genial-looking man offifty, who was dressed with equal fitness for rough travel, and wasjust now intent on hurrying his daughter to the lake boat, whichwas getting up steam at a little distance.
"Like it or not, I expect it is what I shall be reduced to by theend of the summer," laughed Mary Selincourt, as she watched thevarious bags and bundles being piled on to a barrow by the hotelporter.
"Well, look your last on civilization and come along, for that boatwon't wait much longer," said Mr. Selincourt, adding with a laugh:"unless indeed you are beginning to repent, in which case it is nottoo late to change your mind and go back to Miss Griffith."
"Thank you! I never change my mind unless it is about the weather,and I wouldn't turn back on this journey on any account whatever."
"Not if I turned back myself?" he enquired, as they went on boardthe boat.
"No; unless, of course, you were ill, in which case, I suppose, mysense of duty would oblige me to stop, even while my inclinationwas dragging me, with both hands, as near to the North Pole as awoman may hope to get," she said, with a nervous catching of herbreath which showed some agitation behind.
"But James Bay isn't the North Pole," objected Mr. Selincourt.
"It is nearer though than this, I suppose. And this is better thanMontreal," she answered, then turned to talk to a gentleman who hadcome on board before them, and was bound for a fishing camp higherup the lake.
Lake Temiskaming is thirty miles long, and they reached its end inthe evening. But, as Mr. Selincourt had made arrangements to keepthe boat for use as a floating hotel until the next morning, theirfirst night in the wilds was a very comfortable one.
At dawn next morning everyone was astir. Three river boats werelanded; these were made light enough for portage work, and strongenough for weight carrying. With them were landed some men engagedat a point farther down the lake, who had undertaken to work theboats up the Abbitibbi River to Hannah Bay. The men, althoughthere were plenty of them, looked askance at the luggage which hadto be unladen from the steamer and packed into the boats. Theywere thinking of the portages, and the numberless times those bags,bales, bundles, and boxes would have to be carried over miles ofportages on their shoulders. But the pay was good, quite twicewhat they could have earned in any other direction, and as theywere too wise to quarrel with their daily bread, which in this casewas only biscuit, they accepted the burdens in silence.
Mr. Selincourt and Mary travelled always in the second boat withthe personal luggage which had surrounded Mary in the hotel porch,while the boat which went in front and the one which came afterwere laden with the heavier luggage. For many days after thistheir journey went on. Sometimes they would make not more thanseven or eight miles in a day when the portages were bad, and onone record day the total distance covered was only four miles. Theweather was well-behaved as a whole, although occasionally the raincame down at a pour. Being so early in the summer, the rivers werevery full, so there was never any danger of running aground,although they had to face many risks in going down the rapids, whenthey had crossed the height of land on a ten-mile portage, andbegan to descend the Mattagami River. The longest journey mustcome to an end at last, however, and one hot afternoon late on inJune the three boats skirted the last headland of James Bay, andcaught sight of the flag flying from the staff above the fish shed.
"Father, look, there is my flag!" cried Mary, in great excitement."Don't you remember I made an especial flag for the fleet, and sentit up by Mr. Ferrars? Why, how nice it looks, and somehow I feeljust as if I were coming home."
"That is how I feel," responded Mr. Selincourt. "It is prettycountry too, but it makes me feel downright bad to think of allthese square miles of territory going to waste, so to speak, withno one but a few Indians for population, and then to remember theland hunger in England and----"
But Mary had put her hands over her ears, and cried: "Oh, if youlove me, spare me hearing any more about that land hunger just now!I am very sorry for all the poor people who want to own three acresand a cow, but can't afford the luxury; only just for a littlewhile I want to forget them, and to enjoy all this beauty withoutany drawbacks if I can."
"I am afraid you will find the drawbacks, though, in spite of youreagerness to escape them," said Mr. Selincourt, who had beenquietly examining Seal Cove through a glass. Then he handed theglass to Mary, and said in a tone too low for the boatmen to hear:"If I mistake not, the first drawback is there on the shore,mending a net."
Mary took the glass and looked through it for a couple of minuteswithout speaking; then she gave it back, saying, with a shudder:"What a horrid-looking man!"
"Rather a low type by the look of him. But you must not judge allthe population by your first glimpse of it. Because one man is arogue does not prevent all the rest being honest," Mr. Selincourtsaid, putting the glass to his eye to get another look at the placethey were approaching.
"Will our hut be down here on the shore?" asked Mary, who wasstraining her eyes for a first glimpse of the house they were tolive in.
"No; Graham, who was one of the directors of the old company, youknow, told me I should be wise to have it built farther up theriver, at Roaring Water Portage, as it is so much more shelteredthere than down here on the coast."
"Ah! that was real wisdom, for if we make up our minds to stay thewinter, a sheltered position may make a great difference in ourcomfort," she said quickly, then stretched out her hand for theglass to have another look.
"You still think you want to spend next winter so far north?" saidher father, in a questioning tone.
"Why not?" she replied, with a weary note coming into her voice."One place is as good as another, only this would be better thansome, if only there is work of some sort to do."
"We shall see how we like it," he answered, then was silent, gazingat the scene before him, which was looking its fairest on this Juneafternoon.
The man mending nets on the shore, who was no other than Oily Dave,had by this time become aware of the approaching boats, and wasrushing to and fro in a great state of bustle and excitement. Theycould hear him calling to someone out of sight, and the sound ofhis raucous voice only served to deepen the unpleasant impressiongiven by his appearance.
"Father, don't say much to that man, I don't like him," Mary saidin a low tone; and Mr. Selincourt nodded in reply, as the boatsdrew in to the landing by the fish shed, and Oily Dave camehurrying forward to greet them.
"Where is Mr. Ferrars?" asked Mr. Selincourt, and for all that hewas a genial, kindly man, thinking evil of none, he could not keepa hard note out of his voice as he gazed at the mean, shifty faceof Oily Dave.
"He's away somewhere, over to Fort Garry, or perhaps he's crossedto Akimiski Island. The fleet have been mostly round that way thisweek past. Shall I show you round a bit, sir? I'm the actingmanager, formerly sole manager." Oily Dave contrived to throw awithering emphasis on the latter adjective, and rolled up his eyesin a manner meant to imply injured innocence,
which, however, onlyexpressed low-down meanness and cunning.
"Ah, yes, I remember Mr. Graham spoke of you!" replied the newowner, in a strictly non-committal tone. "But why did you say youare acting manager? I only appointed Mr. Ferrars."
Oily Dave contracted his features into an unpleasant grin. "Ittakes them as knows these waters to understand the fishing of them,sir, and your grand drawing-room, bandbox manager would have beenpretty hard put to it many a time to know what to do for the best,if it hadn't been for Oily Dave, which is me."
"I see," remarked Mr. Selincourt in a calm and casual tone, thencontinued with quiet authority: "Please tell Mr. Ferrars when hecomes back that I have arrived, and ask him if he will come up toRoaring Water Portage as soon as it is convenient for him to do so."
"Wouldn't you like me to come and guide you up the river?" demandedOily Dave, his jaw dropping in a crestfallen manner, for he hadthought what a fine chance he would have of getting ahead of JervisFerrars.
"No, thank you, we have travelled too many strange waters theselast few days to need guidance up the last two miles of ourjourney. It is two miles, is it not?"
"Nearer three, sir, but we mostly call it two, because it soundsbetter," said Oily Dave. Then he took his greasy old hat off witha flourish to Mary, and the boats started on again up the mainchannel of the river.
There was plenty to interest the travellers now on the left bank ofthe river; the fish shed showed a weather-beaten front to the broadwaters of the bay, while beyond it, perched on a high bluff, was afunny brown house, with a strange-looking wing built out at theside.
"Father, look at that house, and the queer building at the side;what is it?" cried Mary, who was flushed and eager; for to her thisentrance to Roaring Water River was like coming into her kingdom,although it was not land her father owned in these parts, butwater, or at least the privilege to fish in the water, and theright to cut the timber needed for the making of his boats.
"It looks uncommonly like part of an old boat. Well, if it isAstor M'Kree's work, it would seem as if I have got a man who willmake the best use of the materials at hand," Mr. Selincourtreplied, in a tone of satisfaction.
"Here comes a woman; oh, please, we must stop and speak to her!"said Mary, as a slatternly figure emerged from the house on thebluff, and came running down the steep path to the water's edge,gesticulating and shouting.
"Welcome, sir, and welcome, Miss, to Seal Cove!" cried Mrs. Jenkinin a breathless tone. "We are all most dreadfully delighted tohave you here, and you will be sure to come and have tea with me onyour first spare afternoon," she panted, in hospitable haste, thesun shining down on her dusty, unkempt hair, and revealing the ragsin her dress.
Mr. Selincourt looked at his daughter in quiet amusement; but Maryrose to the occasion in a manner worthy of the country in which shewas living, and answered with sweet graciousness:
"Oh! I will be sure to come; thank you so much for asking me: butI have got to get my house straight, you know, and that may take mea few days, so perhaps I will drop down the river some morningwhile it is cool, and let you know how I am getting on. Then youmust promise to come and see me."
"Oh, I'll come! I shall be just delighted! You won't mind if Ibring the babies, will you? There are only three of them, and theoldest isn't five yet; so when I go out I'm forced to take themwith me, don't you see," Mrs. Jenkin said, smiling at the younglady from England, and serenely oblivious of the defects in her owntoilet.
"I shall be charmed to entertain the babies, and I will be sure tocome and see you very soon," called Mary, as the boat moved on,leaving Mrs. Jenkin smiling and waving from the bank.
"What a nice little woman, and how friendly and kind in hermanner!" exclaimed Mary, whereat Mr. Selincourt laughed.
"Has Canada bewitched you already? What is to become of classdistinctions if you are just going to hobnob with anyone who mayhappen along?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with fun, for he wasquoting from her own past utterances.
Mary reddened, but she laughed too, then said apologetically: "Itsounds the most fearful snobbery to even mention class distinctionsin these wilds, where the only aristocracy that counts is nobilityof endeavour. But I could not reckon myself that woman's superior,Father, because under the same circumstances I might have been evenmore untidy and down-at-heel than she is."
"It is hard to realize that you could be untidy under anyconditions, but perhaps you might be if you had all the work of ahouse and the care of three babies on your hands," Mr. Selincourtreplied with a shake of his head. Then he applied himself to acareful study of the river banks, which were mostly solitary,although at intervals rough loghouses showed among the trees.
"Listen to that noise; we are getting near to some rapids," Marysaid, putting up her hand.
"Near to the end of our journey as well, for we stop below theportage," Mr. Selincourt said, and then the boat swept round thebend, and they saw before them a long, straight stretch of river,with houses visible at the far end where the milky hue of the watershowed the river boiling over the rocks.
"So that is Roaring Water Portage! Well, the place is as pretty asthe name is musical. I am very glad," Mary said with a deep sighof content, and then she sat in silence while the boats swept upthe last stretch of river, and the long, long journey was done.
The boatmen drew to the left bank, leaving the store and itsoutbuildings on the right. Oily Dave had told them that theirhouse stood to the left of the falls, and although they did not seeit at the first moment of landing, the well-trodden path up fromthe water's edge showed that it must be near at hand.
"There it is. But it does not look a bit new. Oh, I am glad!"exclaimed Mary, as a long, low hut came in sight, with glasswindows and an unpainted front door, which just now stood wideopen, while two small girls occupied the doorstep, and were makingdolls' bonnets from leaves and plaited grass.
"I'm afraid that is not our house; someone is living there," saidMr. Selincourt: and the two small girls, becoming at this momentaware of the approach of strangers, sprang to their feet and fledinto the house, casting the millinery away as they went.
"I'm afraid so too; but at least we can go and enquire where ourhouse is to be found," Mary answered.
Then they walked up to the door and knocked, and immediately aslight, girlish figure came into view, with a small girl clingingto either hand.
"Can you tell us where Mr. Selincourt's house is to be found?"asked Mary, wondering why the girl had such sad eyes, and whatrelation she could be to the two little ones.
"This is Mr. Selincourt's house. I came over this afternoon to seethat everything was in right order, that is all," the sad-eyedgirl--or was she a woman?--explained, drawing back for Mary toenter.
Miss Selincourt entered, put her bag on the table, and gazed roundwith a deep sigh of satisfaction.
"What a charming room! I think I should have been ready to weep ifthis had not been our house. Are you Mrs. M'Kree?" she askeddoubtfully, for, although the girl looked so young, she had justheard one of the children whisper, "Mummy."
"No, I am Mrs. Burton, and I come from the store across the river.Mrs. M'Kree lives farther up the river, above the second portage,so it is not easy for her to come down every day, and I have keptthe house open for her."
"It is very kind of you!" exclaimed Mary gratefully, realizing thathere was a very different specimen of womanhood, from thegood-natured slattern who had greeted her at Seal Cove.
"We have to be kind to each other in these wilds, or we should bebadly off sometimes," Mrs. Burton rejoined. Then she said timidly:"We are very glad to welcome you, and we all feel that you haveconferred a great favour on us by coming to stay here this summer."
Something like an awkward lump got into Mary's throat then. Shehad come the long, toilsome journey solely for her own pleasure,and to be near her father, yet here was one thanking her for theprivilege her coming conferred on these lone dwellers in thesolitudes. She was rarely a creature of impulse, and alwa
ys pridedherself on the way she kept her head; but the sweet friendliness ofthe sad-eyed little woman touched her mightily, and stoopingforward she kissed Mrs. Burton warmly, then promptly apologized,being properly ashamed of her forwardness.
"Oh, please forgive me! I really could not help it, and you--youlooked so kind!" she said ruefully.
Mrs. Burton laughed, although she looked rather embarrassed, thenshe said gently: "I am afraid you must be very tired. If you willsit down I will quickly get you some tea."
"Please don't trouble. Father and I are quite used to doing thingsfor ourselves, and I can make a kettle boil over my spirit lampwhile the men are bringing the luggage up from the boats," Marysaid hastily, feeling that she simply could not have this gentle,refined woman waiting upon her,
But for all her gentleness Mrs. Burton could be firm when shechose, and she replied quietly: "I should not think of going awayuntil I had seen you with a meal ready prepared. The fire is allready for lighting in the stove, and that will save your spiritlamp, and you are in the wilderness now, remember, where spirit isdifficult to obtain."
The two little girls trotted after their mother. Mary tried tomake friends with them, but they were not used to strangers, soshowed her only averted faces and pouting red lips, which made herunderstand that their friendship must be left to time.
When the luggage had been brought up from the boat, Mrs. Burton hadthe kettle boiling, and then she sent one of the men across with aboat to the store, giving him a message for Miles, which resultedin a basket of fresh fish coming over at once. These, delicatelybroiled over a fire of spruce chips, and served piping hot, made,as Mr. Selincourt observed, a supper fit for a king.
Mrs. Burton stayed with her small daughters to share the meal, andif she thought ruefully of the family over the river, who wouldhave to cook their own supper, and also go without the fish whichhad been intended for them, she said nothing about it. One mustalways suffer something in the give-and-take of life, and therewere plenty of canned goods at the store which might serve at apinch.
"Now I must go," she said, when the supper dishes had been washed."It is time that Beth and Lotta went to bed, while my father willbe wearying for me if I am too long away."
"Your father?" broke from Mary in surprise, then she stoppedabruptly, realizing that her acquaintance with Mrs. Burton was tooshort for over-much curiosity.
"I am a widow," the little woman answered, with the simple dignitywhich became her so well. "I live with my father, or did; but now,strictly speaking, it is he, poor man, who lives with us, andKatherine earns the living for us all."
"Katherine is your sister?" asked Mary, and now there was tendersympathy in her tone, and she was understanding why Mrs. Burton'seyes were so sad.
"Katherine is my younger sister, and she is just wonderful," thelittle woman said, with love and admiration thrilling her tones."She has done a man's work all the winter, and she is keeping thebusiness together as well as poor Father could have done."