CHAPTER XII
WHAT HAPPENED IN THE BAIE DES CHALEURS
Never, never shall I forget the elation which filled my heart asI stepped ashore with Lucy that September day in the Baie desChaleurs, in Canada. After weeks of unrest, my feet once more wereon the sure, unchanging earth, in the land that held what was morethan all else to me, "my dear and only love," my Hugh.
As we strolled along the clear, hard sands beyond the sound of themen toiling at the water-casks, I felt tempted to cry: "Lucy, Lucy,can you not see my happiness? I am no Madame de St. Just, butMargaret Nairn, the happiest woman in all the world, because myfeet press the same ground that bears my love." This, poor Lucy,with her cramped Methodistical ways, would have held savoured onlyof lightness, or worse; she could never understand the longing thathad worn at my heart all these years, and, most of all, she couldnever conceive of a love such as that of my Hugh. Crowning all myjoy came back the words of his dear, dear song--
"The span o' Life's nae lang eneugh, Nor deep eneugh the sea, Nor braid eneugh this weary warld To part my Love frae me."
No, nothing should part us now. Poverty and pride had kept himsilent when my heart was yearning for him; but now, poverty didnot exist, for I was here to make him restitution, and the pridewas all mine now, in claiming a love that belonged to me alone.Love was King, and
"The King shall have his own Once more! The King shall have his own!"
I sang, mimicking his manly tone as best I might, to the greatastonishment of Lucy.
Delighted as we were merely to feel the sands beneath our feet,the soft, fresh green of the forest which edged them close attractedus, and we timidly made our way under the first scattered trees.Then seeing no wild animals, of which we were greatly in dread,and hearing the reassuring voices of the seamen, we ventured infar enough to gain the thick, sweet-smelling carpet of pine needles,and at length seated ourselves by a little stream, but near enoughthe sands to see the waters of the bay glinting between the trees.
"Oh, Lucy, Lucy, I am so happy!" I said, in the fulness of my heart,giving her my hand, for I looked on her more as a companion thana waiting-woman; but before she could reply a hand was clapped overmy mouth, and I saw Lucy struggling in the arms of a savage. Anoverwhelming terror crushed all life and sense out of me, and Iswooned away.
When I recovered I found I was being carried swiftly by two savages,one at my shoulders and another at my feet, but my terror was sogreat upon me that I dared not make a sound. How long, or how farwe went I could not even conjecture. I saw the trees passing beforemy upturned eyes as in some horrid dream, but it was not until Ibegan to catch glimpses of the sky through the thinning branches,and my captors halted in an open space, setting me on my feet, thatmy senses came back in some degree.
We were beside the water again, dark and empty. The Indiansimmediately brought forth three of their light canoes, which theyhad cunningly concealed among the bushes, and laid them gently onthe stream. No one molested me, nor, indeed, paid any specialattention to me as I sate and watched them.
"And laid them gently on the stream."]
The pictures in such works as La Hontain and others I had seen wereunreal, and I could not recognise their models in the men aboutme. They were painted, it is true, but in a manner more grotesquethan affrighting; their hair was black and lanky, plastered closeto their heads, but with one or two long, plaited braids escaping,ornamented with beads. Their only clothing consisted of leatherleggings more or less tattered, and the belts for their weapons,which crossed their naked bodies; each one was shod with softmoccasins neatly ornamented, and I could not but admire the easeand agility of their movements. Strangely enough, I was no longerpossessed by my former terrors, my only anxiety being for Lucy;but I could not doubt she was in safety, as the Indians wereevidently expecting the arrival of the rest of the band.
Before long we heard sounds of their approach, and my poor Lucyappeared. "Oh, my dear, dear mistress!" she cried, "I was afraidI should never see you again!" and the faithful creature claspedme in her arms and kissed me as if I had been a child. Once shewas convinced of my safety, she straight recovered her serenity,for it was more than composure. Her absolute faith and trust thatwe were in the hand of God--of "Our Heavenly Father," as she alwayssaid--was so complete that I leaned upon her strength and wascomforted.
All was now ready for the embarkation, but, to our dismay, we weredirected to different canoes. No force was used. Indeed, my captor,who appeared to be the leader, or chief, for he wore somewhat moreof their tawdry finery than the others, and his face was decoratedby a broad band of white below the eyes, seemed anxious to add tomy comfort, directing me how to dispose of myself in the bottom ofthe canoe. But once separated from Lucy, I lost the courage withwhich she had inspired me, and I trembled at the rough, gutturalvoices of the savages, who talked their loudest, filling me withthe greater apprehension, as it betokened they held themselvesbeyond pursuit or discovery.
But Lucy, dear courageous soul that she was, divined my fears, andsent back her message of reassurance to me in one of her people'shymns, which I had learned to love on board the ship:
"Thou very present Aid In suffering and distress, The mind which still on Thee is stayed Is kept in perfect peace."
At length, when the clear September day began to fade, we landed,and Lucy and I were again together. No one seemed to pay anyspecial regard to us, but though we had apparent liberty, I feltsure that any attempt at escape would be futile; indeed, the blackforest about us held more terrors, to our minds, than even ourcaptivity.
It was not long before the savages had kindled a fire, and the workof clearing away the brush and making a camp was begun. In spiteof our fears, we could not but admire the readiness of those atwork, while the chief, with the principal warriors, lay aboutsmoking, and staring at us with their fixed eyes.
In a little space a fish was broiled on the hot stones, and aportion of it laid before us, cleanly enough, on sweet-smellingbark freshly peeled from one of the great birch-trees near by. Itwas flat for the want of salt, but we were too hungry to be over-nice,and our spirits revived with the comfort of our meal. Then, weariedout, I laid my head on Lucy's lap and fell fast asleep.
I was awakened by the sound of voices raised in discussion, and,to my amazement, I saw in the light of the fire a man in the garbof a priest. Instead of a hat he wore a tight-fitting cap, hissoutane was rusty and patched in many places, and his feet wereshod with moccasins like the Indians. To my dismay, instead of theaccents which I expected, he was speaking to the chief in the sameguttural tongue as his own; yet his very gown was a protection,and I rose and went to him without hesitation.
"Oh, father! You have been sent in answer to our prayers. ThankGod, we are safe!"
He started at the sound of my voice, and stared at me for whatseemed a long time without a word. "Yes, you are safe," he said,at length, but in halting English; "these Indians will do you noharm. They will carry you to some post farther south, whence wordwill be sent to your friends among the English, and you will beransomed. Yes, you are safe."
"O, mon pere," I implored, breaking into French, for I saw thatwas his tongue, "do not speak so! You will not leave us with them!For the sake of the mother who bore you, listen to me!" and I threwmyself on my knees and stretched out my hands to him, but he drewback as if my touch would have hurt him. "Do not forsake us; takeus with you! We are women, and are helpless. I do not desire toreach any English post. I have no friends among the English. Donot abandon us to these men; we are both women, and I am a lady."
"I see that," he said, more softly. "Where do you wish to go?"
"To Louisbourg, mon pere; our ship was bound there when we werecarried off."
"Had you any friends on board the ship?"
"My woman had her son."
"Have you a husband, or a brother, in Louisbourg?"
My face flamed scarlet at the unexpected question, but I answeredthat I had not, without further e
xplanation.
"Then you cannot go to Louisbourg. It is quite impossible," hedeclared, with authority. "Louisbourg is no place for women at anytime, least of all now. The important matter is to set you freefrom these savages, but you may rest without alarm to-night, andI will decide what is to be done before morning."
He spake these last words wearily, like a man who had received ahurt, which moved my heart towards him in quick pity, and I waitedto see if he would speak again, but he only raised his hand andblessed me.
Lucy received my report with her usual quiet; even the tidings thatwe were not to go to Louisbourg did not disturb her. "He knowsbetter than we, and he will be guided in all his decisions."
Despite the assurances of our safety, we neither of us closed oureyes that night. Apart from the anxiety as to our destination, thestrangeness of our situation, the crackling of the fire, and theuncanny noises of the forest kept us at such a tension that sleepwas impossible, and we were awake before any of our captors wereastir.
I looked eagerly for the priest, and saw him kneeling at a littledistance, absorbed in his morning devotions. Thereupon we withdrewquietly to the river, and soon returned, greatly refreshed, to findthe whole camp afoot, and the priest awaiting us at the water'sedge. Going directly to him, I asked, "Mon pere, what have youdecided?"
"That you go with me," he said, quietly. And I turned to Lucy, butshe had already caught the joyous message of our deliverance frommy face.