Produced by Marlo Dianne
THE HOMESTEADERS
A NOVEL OF THE CANADIAN WEST
by
Robert J. C. Stead
Author of "Kitchener and Other Poems," "Songs of the Prairie," "TheCow Puncher," ETC
The Musson Book Company LimitedPublishers Toronto
FIRST PUBLISHED IN 1916.
CONTENTS
PRELUDEI. THE BECK OF FORTUNEII. INTO THE WILDERNESSIII. PRAIRIE LANDIV. ROUGHING ITV. THE SHORES OF THE INFINITEVI. IN THE SPELL OF THE MIRAGEVII. THE CALL OF THE FARTHER WESTVIII. INTO THE NIGHTIX. CRUMBLING CASTLESX. INTO THE FARTHER WESTXI. THE PRICE OF "SUCCESS"XII. A WHIFF OF NEW ATMOSPHEREXIII. SETTING THE TRAPXIV. THE GAMBLERSXV. THE LURE OF EASY MONEYXVI. THE HONOUR OF THIEVESXVII. THE FIGHT IN THE FOOTHILLSXVIII. CONVERGING TRAILSXIX. PRISONERS OF FATEXX. AN INQUEST--AND SOME EXPLANATIONS
THE HOMESTEADERS
PRELUDE
Six little slates clattered into place, and six little figures stooderect between their benches.
"Right! Turn!" said the master. "March! School is dismissed"; and sixpairs of bare little legs twinkled along the aisle, across thewell-worn threshold, down the big stone step, and into the dustyroad, warm with the rays of the Indian summer sun.
The master watched them from the open window until they vanishedbehind a ridge of beech trees that cut his vision from theconcession. While they remained within sight a smile played upon thefeatures of his strong, sun-burned face, but as the last littlecalico dress was swallowed by the wood the smile died down, and for amoment he stood, a grave and thoughtful statue framed within thewhite pine casings of the sash. His sober grey eyes stared unseeinginto the forest, while the light wind that stirred the golden mapleleaves toyed gently with his unruly locks.
His brown study lasted only a moment. With a quick movement he walkedto the blackboard, caught up a section of sheepskin, and beganerasing the symbols of the day's instructions.
"Well, I suppose there's reward in heaven," he said to himself, as heset the little schoolroom in order. "There isn't much here. Thefarmers will pay a man more to doctor their sick sheep than to teachtheir children. But, of course, they get both mutton and wool from asheep. I won't stand it longer than the spring. If others can takethe chance I can take it too. If it were not for her I would goto-morrow."
The last remark seemed to unlink a new chain of thought. The greyeyes lit up again. He wielded the broom briskly for a minute, thentossed it in a corner, fastened the windows, slipped a little folderinto his pocket, locked the door behind him, carefully placed the keyunder the stone step where the first child in the morning would findit, and swung in a rapid stride down a by-path leading from thelittle schoolhouse into the forest.
Ten minutes' quick walking in the woods, now glorious in all theirautumn splendour, brought him to a point where the sky stood up, paleblue, evasive, through the trees. The next moment he was at thewater's edge, and a limpid lake stretched away to where the forestsof the farther shore mingled hazily with sky and water. The pointwhere he stood was a little bay, ringed with water-worn stones andhemmed around by the forest, except for one wedge of blue thatbroadened into the distance. He glanced about, as though expectingsomeone; he whistled a line of a popular song, but the only reply wasfrom a saucy eavesdropper which, perched on a near-by limb, trilledback its own liquid notes in answer.
"I may as well improve the moments consulting my chart," he remarkedto his undulating image in the water. "This thing of embarking on twonew seas at once calls for skilful piloting." He seated himself on astone, drew from his pocket the folder, and spread a map before him.
In a few moments he was so engrossed that he did not hear the almostnoiseless motion of a canoe as it thrust its brown nose into the bluewedge before him. The canoe slid with its own momentum gracefullythrough the quiet waters, suddenly revealing a picture for the heartof any artist. Kneeling near its stern, her paddle held aloft anddripping, her brown arms and browner hair glistening in the mellowsun, her face bright with the light of its own expectancy, was alithe and beautiful girl. In an instant her eye located the young manon the bank, and her lips moulded as though to speak; but when shesaw how unobserved she was she remained silent and upright as anIndian while the canoe slipped gently toward the shore. Presently itcushioned its nose in the velvety sand. She rose silently from herseat, and stole on moccasined tip-toes along the stones until shecould have touched his hair with her fingers. But her eyes fell overhis shoulder on the papers before him.
"Always at your studies," she cried, as he sprang eagerly to hisfeet. "You must be seeking a professorship. But I suppose you have tobe always brushing up," she continued, banteringly. "Your oldestpupil must be--let me see--not less than eight?"
He smothered her banter with his affection, but she stole the mapfrom his fingers.
"I declare, if it isn't Manitoba! What next? Siberia or Patagonia? Ithought you were still in the Eastern Townships."
"So I am--in school. But out of school I am spending a good deal ofmy time in Manitoba, Mary."
She caught a grave note in his voice as he said her name. Seizing hischeeks between her hands she turned his face to her. "Answer me, JohnHarris. You are not thinking of going to Manitoba!"
"Suppose I say I am?"
"Then I am going too!"
"Mary!"
"John! Nothing unusual about a wife going with her husband, isthere?"
"No, of course, but you know--"
"Yes, I know"--glancing at the ring on her finger. "This still standsat par, doesn't it?"
"Yes, dear," he answered, raising the ring to his lips. "You know itdoes. But to venture into that wilderness means--you see, it means somuch more to a woman than to a man."
"Not as much as staying at home--alone. You didn't really think Iwould do that?"
"No, not exactly that. Let us sit down and I will tell you what Ithought. Here, let me get the cushion...There, that's better. Now letme start at the beginning.
"Until you came here last summer--until all this happened, youknow--I was quite satisfied to go on teaching--"
"And I have sown discontent--"
"Please don't interrupt. Teaching seemed as good as anything else--"
"As good as anything else! Better than anything else, I should say.What is better than training the tender child, inspiring him withyour ideals--"
"Oh, I know all about that. Until I began to have some genuine idealsof my own I was satisfied with it. But now--well, everything isdifferent."
"I know," she answered. "The salary won't support two. There's therub."
They sat for some minutes, gazing dreamily across the broad sheet ofsilver.
"And so you are going to Manitoba?" she said at length.
"Yes. There are possibilities there. It's a gamble, and that is why Ididn't want to share it with you--at first. I thought I would spend ayear; locate a homestead; get some kind of a house built; perhapsbreak some land. Then I would come back."
"And you weren't going to give me a word in all those preparationsfor our future? You have a lot to learn yet, John. You won't find itin that folder, either."
He laughed lightly--a happy, boyish laugh. For weeks thedetermination to seek his fortune in the then almost unknown CanadianWest had been growing upon him, and as it grew he shrank more andmore from disclosing his plans to his _fiancee_. Had she been one ofthe country girls of the neighbourhood, a daughter of the sturdybackwoods pioneers, bred to hard work in field and barnyard, he wouldhave hesitated less. But she was sprung from gentler stock. It seemedalmost profane to think of her in the lonely life of a homesteader onthe bleak, unsettled plains--to see her
in the monotony and drudgeryof the pioneer life. He had been steeling himself for the ordeal;schooling himself with arguments; fortressing his resolve,unconsciously, perhaps, with the picture of his own heroism inbraving the unknown. And she had scaled every breastwork at a bound,and captured the citadel by the adroit diplomacy of apparentsurrender.
She had snatched his confession at an unguarded moment. He had notmeant to tell her so much--so soon. As he thought over the wheels hehad set in motion their possible course staggered him, and he foundhimself arguing against the step he contemplated.
"It's a gamble," he repeated. "The agricultural possibilities of thecountry have not been established. It may be adapted only to buffaloand Indians. They say the Selkirk settlers have seen hardshipscompared with which Ontario pioneers lived in luxury...We may be farback from civilization, far from neighbours, or doctors, or churches,or any of those things which we take as a matter of course."
"Then you will need me with you, John, and I am going."
She could not mistake the look of admiration in his eyes. "Mary," hesaid, "you are a hero. I didn't think it was in you. I mean I--"
"A heroine, if you please," she corrected. "But I am not that--notthe least bit. I want go because--because to go with you, even toManitoba, is not nearly so dreadful as to stay home without you."
"But come," said the girl, springing lightly to her feet, "we havematters of great moment for immediate consideration."
He was at her heels. One hand resting on his strong arm sufficed tosteady her firm body as she tip-toed over the stones. Somewhere inthe canoe she found a parcel, wrapped in a white napkin. Under afriendly beech she laid her dainties before him.
In a crimson glory the sun had sunk behind the black forest acrossthe lake. The silver waters had draped in mist their fringe ofinverted trees along the shore, and lay, passive and breathing andvery still, beneath the smooth-cutting canoe... One by one the starscame out in the heavens, and one by one their doubles wavered andmimicked in the lake. A duller point of light bespoke a settler'scabin on the distant shore.
"And we shall build our own home, and live our own lives, and loveeach other--always,--only, for ever and ever?" she breathed.
"For ever and ever," he answered.
A waterfowl cut the air in his sharp, whistling flight. The lastwhite shimmer of daylight faded from the surface of the lake. Thelovers floated on, gently, joyously, into their ocean of hope andhappiness.