CHAPTER FIVE.
There were signs that the winter was about to begin. Snow-storms hadappeared from over the hill and swept across the lake. Ice had formedaround the edges in shallow pools, but the hot sun had come out andcompletely thawed it. Often among the pine woods the heat wasexcessive. Had it not been for the rich growing tints of the treeswhich fringed the lake and covered its islets, it would have beendifficult to suppose that summer had passed away. There were the brightreds and yellows of the maple, the pale straw-colour of the beech, thecopper hues of the oaks; and, indeed, Sophy found that she could exhaustall the brightest colours of her paint-box, and yet not give sufficientvariety or brilliancy to portray correctly the gorgeous tints of thelandscape spread out before the window; nor was there blue to be foundequal to the blue of the lake, still less of the sky above it. She wasglad that she had finished her drawing in time, for a strong north windsprang up, and a sharp frost sent every leaf, pinched off, flying away,and the next morning a few only hanging to dead boughs gave a somewhatwarm tinge to the otherwise dark green and dark brown appearance of thelake shore.
"Excellent! it would give my dear people at home some idea of thebeauties we have out here," exclaimed D'Arcy, who happened to look inthe day Sophy had finished her sketch. "I should be so thankful if youcould make a copy for me; still more so if I might aspire to possess theoriginal."
"What could have made Sophy blush so just now?" said Charley to Agnes,after D'Arcy had taken his leave. "There the dear thing stands lookingat the lake: what a wonder to see her doing nothing."
D'Arcy leaped gaily into his boat, hoisted the main-sail, a large onefor her size, cast off the painter, and hauling aft the main-sheet asshe paid-off with the fore-sail, waved an adieu to his friends on shore.The lake sparkled brightly as miniature waves curled over its surface;faster and faster the boat flew amid them, seeming to delight in herfreedom. The breeze freshened; a black cloud came up along the courseof the river from Lake Huron; it rushed across the sky, followed byothers, casting a shadow over the lake. A shriek from Sophy made Philiprush out from his workshop, saw in hand, followed by Harry. The whitesail of D'Arcy's boat had disappeared, and a dark mass was alone visibleon the spot where she had been.
"He is a good swimmer, and will have got upon the bottom," cried Philip;but his heart misgave him, for the cold wind had made D'Arcy put on histhick coat and heavy boots; Harry ran towards their large boat. Thesails and oars were on shore. "No, no,--the canoe!" cried Philip. AnIndian hunter, a friend of D'Arcy's, had left his canoe on the beach inthe morning. The paddles were in her. To launch her and step gingerlyin was the work of an instant; and fast as Philip and Harry could plytheir paddles, the light canoe flew across the lake.
The rest of the family were soon on the shore; Mr Ashton, who saw thedanger to which his sons were exposed in their eagerness to save theirfriend, watching their progress with the greatest anxiety. Heunfortunately did not understand the management of a boat as did hissons; nor did Peter, or he would have gone after them. The canoe tossedup and down, apparently scarcely able to buffet with even the smallwaves, to the lashing of which she was exposed. Still Philip and Harrybravely pursued their course, their eyes straining a-head, and utterlyregardless of the danger they themselves were running.
"Phil, can you see him?" cried Harry. "I think I do. Yes, surely,there's something moving on the boat's keel."
"Yes, I hope so: he's lying his length along it; he could not sit up,"answered Philip. "How bitterly cold the wind blows out here."
"Yes, he will be almost frozen, poor fellow; he will lose his boat,too," said Harry. "Shall we carry him on to his place, or back to ourown?"
"Certainly, to ours. In his own hut he has no one to look after himproperly; while with us he will have no lack of nurses," remarkedPhilip. "Paddle away, Harry; he sees us."
"Hurrah, D'Arcy!" cried Harry, "we are coming to you, old fellow." Ahand was seen to wave in return to Harry's cheer. "All right--allright!" cried Harry, delighted, "he is there and alive!"
D'Arcy had managed to get one of his boots off, but he had greatdifficulty in clinging to the keel. He did not cry out to his friendsto make haste, for he knew that they were doing their utmost to reachhim. They encouraged him, however, to hold on; for they judged, by thechilly blast which swept across the lake, that he must be numbed andfainting. At length they got alongside the boat; and now the greatestcaution was necessary, lest, in taking him in, the canoe should becapsized. The boat likewise, on being touched, might roll up, and withher mast stave in the fragile side of the canoe. It seemed almostimpossible to accomplish their object without upsetting themselves.Those who know what a birch-bark canoe is like will best understand thedifficulty.
"Take me in by the head," said D'Arcy; "I'll crawl in."
They accordingly paddled round to the stern of the boat, to which Philipmade the bow of the canoe fast, and he was then able to reach oversufficiently to take hold of D'Arcy's hands, and to drag him on till hecould place one foot on each gunwale of the canoe, and then, by drawinghimself back, he took the weight off the bow and gradually drew hisfriend on board. D'Arcy's knees, however, very nearly went through thethin bottom. He asked them to continue on to his clearing, that hemight get off again and try to save his boat; but Philip would not hearof it.
"No, no," he answered, "she will drift on shore not far off, and weshall easily be able to find her; and you will catch your death of coldif you are not looked after immediately."
"But poor Terry will go out of his mind if he supposes that I am lost,"argued D'Arcy.
"We will try to let him know," said Philip. "Besides, at our place, ifwe go on, they will not know whether we are all lost, or you are saved."
This settled the question. "There, lie down at the bottom, and we willcover you up with our jackets," said Philip. "Give way, Harry."
To paddle back in the teeth of the freezing wind was no easy work, andmore than once Philip wished that, for his friend's sake, he had gone onto his clearing; still, he guessed rightly, that every means to preventinjurious effects would be got ready. Manfully they paddled on, but thespray from the small but quick-coming waves dashed in their faces, andthe slightest cessation of exertion allowed the light canoe to be blownback again like a feather before the breeze. Nobly they persevered.Once under the lee of the land, they knew that their progress would bemore rapid. At last they caught sight of their own landing-place.Philip gave a flourish with his paddle, and pointed to the bottom of thecanoe. The communication was understood, and a door, with blankets,were ready to carry D'Arcy up to the house. He begged, however, to beallowed to walk up, declaring that he was well able to do so, though hedid not object to having a couple of blankets thrown over his shoulders.He found, however, that he had miscalculated his strength, and withouthelp he could scarcely move. The next morning the effects of thewetting and exposure were more conspicuous, and all the skill of NurseSummers was required to bring him round. For several days he was keptin bed, and even when he was able to get up, the Ashtons would not lethim leave them. "You are utterly unfit for work, my dear fellow," saidPhilip. "You will get well here much faster than sitting over the firein your own shanty, and leave Terry more at liberty to go on with yourhouse. He is contented enough now he knows we have you in safekeeping."
It was wonderful with what equanimity Mr D'Arcy consented to remain theguest of the Ashtons. He was not idle, for he read while the ladiesworked, taught Charley to net, and took Philip's place as hisschoolmaster in the evening, and imparted a large stock ofbackwoodsman's lore to all the family. Philip and Harry had, directlythey returned after rescuing him, set off in their big boat, and arrivedat his clearing in time to prevent poor Terry from going out of hismind, which he was nearly doing at seeing his master's boat drift by,and believing he was lost. They found him wringing his hands, anduttering a truly Irish lament as he contemplated the boat which haddriven on shore a short distance from the cottage shanty. So occ
upiedhad he been in watching the upset boat that he had not observed theirapproach.
"Och! sad's the day; and I'll never more be after seeing him again, thedear young masther, barrin' it's his corpse is sent up by the cruelwaves on the shore, and I'll be left all alone in this desart counthryto bury him, the last hope of the D'Arcys, instead of in the tomb of hisancestors in ould Ireland. And what'll the poor misthress be doing whenshe hears the news? sorrow a bit could my hand write the words; Icouldn't do it even if I had the 'art, nor my tongue tell it, I'd soonercut it out of my mouth; and sweet Misthress Katharine and MisthressLily, they'll cry their pretty eyes out, they will." Again he set up along, melancholy howl, not unlike that of a dog baying at the moon. Thesound of the Ashtons' boat touching the shore made him look up, with anexpression of hope in his countenance, as if he expected to see hismaster, but it suddenly changed to one of still greater sorrow when hediscovered that he was not of the party.
Philip, eager to soothe his anxiety, shouted out, as he stepped onshore, "Come up, Terry, we have him all safe on shore, only rather wetand cold."
"Is it the thruth ye are spaking, Masther Philip? Arrah, an' I'm shureit is," cried Terry, rushing towards him with frantic gestures ofdelight. "Just say that word again, he's safe, an' blessins on yerhonest face, for I'm shure ye could not desave a poor gossoon likemyself." Philip repeated his assertion, and was not a little astonishedto find himself seized in Terry's arms, and hugged till the breath wasnearly out of his body. The honest fellow's feelings then gave way in aburst of tears, which flowed while he apologised for the liberty hebecame conscious he had taken.
D'Arcy's stay with his friends was prolonged over several days, and itwas not till he was perfectly recovered that they would allow him to goback to his clearing. He found several subjects to ponder on when hegot there.