Фредерик Марриет
The Settlers in Canada
CHAPTER XXII
When we left off our narrative, our Canadian settlers were enjoying themselves on Christmas day. On the following morning, Malachi Bone, the Strawberry, and John, set off for their abode to the westward, and Captain Sinclair and his companion went back to the fort. The Indian woman was better, and the family resumed their usual occupations. We must now briefly narrate a few events which occurred during the remainder of the long winter. Malachi and John made their appearance, accompanied by the Strawberry, almost every Sunday, and the old hunter appeared gradually to become more reconciled to the society of others, and sometimes would remain for a day or two over the Sunday. The Indian woman, in the course of three weeks, was quite recovered, and signified, through the Strawberry, her wish to leave, and join her tribe. To this, of course, no objection was raised; and having received a supply of provisions, she took her leave at the latter end of the month of January.
February,—March followed, and the winter still continued, but the sun became more powerful, and the weather was not so severe. It was not till the middle of April that the lake was clear of ice and the thaw commenced, and then it was so rapid, that the little stream became quite an impetuous torrent, and a large portion of the prairie land was under water. A few days, however, sufficed to change the scene; the snow, which had covered the ground for so many months, had all disappeared; the birds, which had been mute or had migrated during the winter, now made their appearance, and chirped and twittered round the house; the pleasant green of the prairie was once more presented to their view, and nature began to smile again. Other ten days passed, and the trees had thrown out their leaves, and after one or two storms, the weather became warm and the sky serene.
Great was the delight of the whole party at this change; and now the cows were put out to their pasture, and Emma and Mary went milking as before, no longer afraid of meeting with the wolves. The boat was launched, and Percival and John went out to procure fish. Alfred, Henry, and Martin were very busy picking up the cleared ground, to sow the first crop. Mr. Campbell worked all day in the garden; the poultry were noisy and bustling, and soon furnished an abundant supply of eggs; and as now the hunting season was over for a time, Malachi and the Strawberry were continually coming to visit them.
"Oh! how delightful this is," exclaimed Emma, as she stopped at the bridge and looked on the wide blue lake; "is it not, Mary, after having been cooped up for so many weary months?"
"It is, indeed, Emma; I do not wonder at your flow of spirits; I feel quite another person myself. Well, if the winter is long and dreary, at all events, it doubly enhances the value of the spring."
"I think it very odd that Captain Sinclair has not come to see us; don't you, Mary?"
"I certainly did expect him before this," replied Mary; "I presume, however, his duty will not permit him to come."
"Surely he could get leave, now that the weather is fine; there was some reason for his not coming during the winter. I hope he is not ill."
"I hope so too, most sincerely, Emma," replied Mary; "but come, sister, we must not loiter; hear how the calves are bleating for us to let them have their breakfast; we shall have more of them very soon; yes, and plenty of milk, and then we shall have plenty of churning; but I like work when the weather is fine."
After breakfast, Emma expressed her surprise to Alfred at Captain Sinclair's not having made his appearance, and her fear that he was not well. Alfred, at her request, promised to walk to the fort in the afternoon, and ascertain how matters were.
John, who had not forgotten the advice of Malachi, brought in a basket of fine trout from the stream almost every day, and the supply of fish and eggs proved very acceptable, for the beef had all been consumed, and the family would otherwise have been reduced to salt-pork.
Alfred, as he had promised Emma, set off for the fort, accompanied by Martin. He returned the next morning, full of news. Captain Sinclair was, as Emma had imagined, unable to come, having had a severe fall, by which he had injured his knee, and was laid up for a time; he was, however, in very good spirits, and the medical officer had promised that he should be well again in a fortnight; he sent his kind regards to all the family. The commandant also sent his compliments to Mr. Campbell, and desired to acquaint him that, in a week or ten days, it was his intention to send a boat to Montreal, and if Mr. Campbell had any purchases to make, or wished to send any one by the opportunity, he might do so, and the boat would bring back the articles he required. They had no further communication with Quebec, but expected a runner to come every day with the letters from England and newspapers; and further, that he hoped soon to be able to pay his respects in person.
Such was the information brought by Alfred; Emma made many inquiries relative to Captain Sinclair as Mary stood by, and Alfred laughed at her extreme inquisitiveness. The proposition of the commandant relative to the trip to Montreal was then discussed. Old Malachi had several packages of furs to dispose of. Martin had five, Alfred three, and Henry two; for, although we made no mention of it, on their hunting excursions, whoever killed the animal, was entitled to the skin. The packages of Malachi were, however, of some value, as he had many beaver and other skins, while those of Martin and the others consisted chiefly of deer-skins. The question was, whom to send down with them. Malachi was not inclined to go, Martin could not well be spared, and, moreover, would very probably get into some scrape if he went to Montreal; whereas Henry and Alfred did not know any thing about the value of skins; otherwise, Mr. Campbell, who wished to purchase flour and pork, besides several other articles, would have preferred sending one of them. But the difficulty was soon removed by old Malachi, who observed, that he had made a valuation of his skins, and that the others could be valued also before they were packed up; and that if not sold for what they ought to fetch, or nearly so, they had better be brought back. Mr. Campbell was satisfied with this arrangement, and Henry was appointed to undertake the journey. Mr. Campbell made out his inventory of articles; Mrs. Campbell added her list, and all was ready as soon as they received notice that the boat was to leave. Martin did not appear at all annoyed at not being selected for the expedition; since Malachi Bone had informed them that the Strawberry was not his wife, as they had supposed, Martin was continually by her side. She began to speak a few words of English, and had become a great favorite with every body.
Mr. Campbell, as soon as he perceived that Malachi no longer avoided them, thought it but his duty to offer him his land back again, but Malachi would not consent to accept it. He said he did not want the land, although perhaps, he might raise his lodge a little nearer to them than it was; at present, things had better remain as they were; after which Mr. Campbell did not renew the subject. Malachi soon acted upon his remark, that perhaps he might raise his lodge a little nearer, for, a few days afterward, he made his appearance with the Strawberry and John, all three loaded with his household utensils, and in a very short time he had erected another wigwam within sight of the house at the western end of Mr. Campbell's prairie. This gave great satisfaction to Mrs. Campbell, because John was now always near them; indeed, he no longer slept in the lodge, but at the house, in the room with his brothers. The major part of the day he passed at the lodge, or in company with the old hunter; but, by this new arrangement, they gradually became, as it were, one family; not a day passed that the Strawberry did not come to their house and make herself useful, assisting in every thing that she could, and rapidly learning what she did not know.
One or two evenings after the message from the fort, Mrs. Campbell asked Malachi some questions relative to the habits of the beaver, as she had heard much of the sagacity of that animal.
"Well, ma'am," said Malachi, "it's a most reasonable animal, certainly, and I will say, I never was tired with watching them; I've even forgot, in the summer-time, what I came out for, from having fallen in with them at work."
"And so have I," said Martin. "I once was lying down under a bush by the side of a stream, and I saw a whole council of them meet together, and they talked after their own fashion so earnestly, and I really think they have a language as good as our own. It's always the old ones who talk, and the young ones who listen."
"That's true," replied Malachi. "I once myself saw them hold a council, and then they all separated to go to work, for they were about to dam up a stream and build their lodges."
"And what did they do, Malachi?" said Mrs. Campbell.
"Why, ma'am, they did all the same as Christians would have done. The Injuns say that beavers have souls as well as themselves, and certainly, if sense gave souls, the Injuns would be in the right. The first thing that they did was to appoint their sentinels to give notice of danger; for the moment any one comes near them, these sentinels give the signal and away they all dive, and disappear till the danger is over."
"There are many beasts as well as birds that do the same," observed Mr. Campbell; "indeed, most of those which are gregarious and live in flocks."
"That's true, sir," replied Martin.
"Well, ma'am, the beavers choose a place fit for their work. What they require is a stream running through a flat or bottom, which stream of water they may dam up so as to form a large pond of a sufficient depth by the water flowing over and covering the flat or bottom several feet; and when they have found the spot they require, they begin their work."
"Perhaps," observed Mr. Campbell, "this choice requires more sagacity than the rest of their labor, for the beavers must have some engineering talent to make the selection. They must be able to calculate as exactly as if they took their levels, to secure the size and depth of water in the pond which is necessary. It is the most wonderful, perhaps, of all the instincts, or reasoning powers rather, allotted to them."
"It is, sir; and I've often thought so," replied Malachi; "and then to see how they carry all their tools about them; a carpenter's basket could not be better provided. Their strong teeth serve as axes to cut down the trees; then their tails serve as trowels for their mason's work; their fore-feet they use just as we do our hands, and their tails are also employed as little carts or wheelbarrows."
"Pray go on, Malachi," said Mary; "I am quite interested already."
"Well, miss, I have known these little creatures as they are, raise banks four or five hundred paces in length, and a matter of twenty feet high in some parts, besides being seven or eight feet thick; and all in one season,—perhaps five or six months' work."
"But how many of them do you reckon are at the work?" said Henry.
"Perhaps a hundred; not more, I should say."
"Well; but how do they raise these banks, Malachi?" said Emma.
"There, miss, they show what sense they have. I've often watched them when they have been sawing through the large trees with the front teeth; they could not carry the tree, that's sartin, if the whole of them were to set to work, so they always pick out the trees by the banks of the stream, and they examine how the trees incline, to see if they will fall into the stream; if not, they will not cut them down; and when they are cutting them down, and they are nearly ready for falling, if the wind should change and be against the fall, they will leave that tree till the wind will assist them. As soon as the trees are down, they saw off the branches and arms, and float the log down to where the dam is to be made; they lay them across, and as they lay them one upon the other, of course the water rises and enables them to float down and place the upper ones. But before that, as soon as the lower logs are in their places, the animals go and fetch long grass and clay, which they load upon their flat tails, and drag to the dam, filling up the holes between the timber till it is as strong as a wall, and the water is completely stopped."
"Yes," said Martin; "I have heard them at night working away so hard and flapping and spattering with their tails, that I could imagine there were fifty men at work instead of a hundred of these small animals, but they work by day and by night, and never seem tired, till the dam is sound and their work is complete."
"But the raising of the dam is only preparatory, is it not, to their building their own houses?" observed Mrs. Campbell.
"Nothing more, ma'am; and I think the rest of the work is quite as wonderful."
"But it is time to go to bed," observed Mr. Campbell, "and we must, therefore, leave the remainder of Malachi's story till another evening."
"I am sure that there is not one of the party who is more anxious to hear it than I am," replied Mrs. Campbell, rising, "but as you say, it is past ten o'clock, and Malachi and the Strawberry have to go home, so good-night."
"Oh, dear! what a pity!" cried Percival, "I shall dream of beavers all night, I'm sure I shall."
CHAPTER XXIII
For two or three days, Mr. Campbell was very busy making out an inventory of the articles which he required. His funds at Quebec were rather low, but the communication which his agent had made to him of Mr. D. Campbell's intention of paying for the green-house and hot-house plants, made him feel very easy on that score; and he now determined to procure a small flock of sheep, and one or two of the Canadian ponies or galloways, as they would soon be required for the farm, as well as two carts or light wagons used in the country. In the meantime, Alfred, Martin, and Henry were very busy putting the seed in between the stumps of the felled timber, merely hoeing up the earth and raking it in, which was all that was required. The quantity of land cleared was about twelve acres, half of which was sowed with oats, and the other with wheat; the piece cleared on the other side of the stream by Malachi Bone, and railed in, was sown with maize, or Indian corn. As soon as the seed was in, they all set to putting up a high fence round the cleared land, which was done with split rails made from the white cedar, which grew in a swamp about half a mile distant, and which, it may be remembered, had in a great measure been provided by the soldiers who had been lent to assist them on their arrival. The piece of prairie land, on the side of the stream next to the house, was put apart for an early crop of hay, and as soon as they could, they intended to turn the cows into the bush, that is, to feed in the forest, that they might obtain hay from the other side, which had belonged to Malachi; but the prairie required to be fenced in, and this was the job that they took in hand as soon as the seeds were sown.
"I hope, when the Colonel comes over," observed Martin to Alfred, "that we shall persuade him to let us have some soldiers this summer, for we shall want them both for the fencing and getting the hay-crop in. Our summers are not very long, and there is plenty to do."
"I think my father intends to make the request," replied Alfred.
"Ah, sir; he will now see the value of this bit of prairie land to a new settler; instead of having to go in search of hay, as they must do at the fort now, we have plenty for hay, and plenty for feed. So we are to have some sheep, I find?"
"Yes, and I suppose we must build a winter-yard for them."
"To be sure we must, for the wolves are very partial to mutton; I think, on the whole, that they like pigs better. I wish we could get the fence up round the prairie, but that we never can do this year without we have help from the fort."
"But will it be safe to turn the cows into the bush?"
"Oh yes, sir; they will not be hurt by any thing in the summer time; sometimes we have trouble to find them again, but not when they have calves; they are certain to come home every evening to their young ones."
"We shall have quite a herd of cattle; eight calves and eight cows."
"We must only bring up the cow calves, unless your father intends to have oxen for the yoke. We shall require them about the time they are fit to break in, that is, in two or three years."
"Yes, we shall be great farmers by and by," replied Alfred with a sigh; for at the moment he was thinking of Captain Lumley and his nautical profession.
In the evening of the day on which this conversation took place, Malachi Bone was requested to resume his observations upon the beavers.
"Well, ma'am, as I said the other night, as soon as they have dammed up the river and made the lake, they then build their houses; and how they manage to work under water and fix the posts in the ground is a puzzle to me, but they do fix six posts in the ground, and very firmly, and then they build their house, which is very curious; it is in the form of a large oven, and made of clay and fat earth, mixed up with branches and herbs of all sorts; they have three sets of rooms, one above the other, so that if the water rises from a freshet or sudden thaw, they may be able to move higher and keep themselves dry. Each beaver has his own little room, and the entrance is made under the water, so that they dive down to go into it, and nothing can harm them."
"How very curious! and what do they live upon? Malachi?"
"The bark of what we call asp-wood, ma'am, which is a kind of sallow; they lay up great quantities of it in the autumn as a provision for winter, when they are frozen up for some months."
"Well, but how do you take them, Malachi?"
"There are many ways, ma'am; sometimes the Indians break down the dam, and let off the water, and then they kill them all except a dozen of the females and half a dozen males; after which they stop up the dam again, that the animals may breed and increase; sometimes, when the beaver lake is frozen hard, they break into the beaver house from the top; when they do that, the beavers all dive and escape, but as they must come up to breathe at the holes in the ice, they place nets and take them in that way, but they always leave a sufficient number to keep up the stock; they also take them in traps baited with the asp-wood; but that is more difficult.
"But there is another sort of beaver, ma'am, called the land-beaver, which is more easily taken," observed Martin; "they make holes in the earth like rabbits. The Indians say that these beavers are those who are lazy and idle, and have been driven out by the others for not working."
"Now, tell us what you do when you go out to hunt the beaver in the winter, Malachi?"
"We never hunt the beaver only, ma'am; we go out to hunt every thing; we go to the beaver lakes, and then we set our traps for beaver, otter, martin, minks, cats, foxes, and every other animal, some traps large and some small. We build our hut, and set our traps all about us, and examine them every day; we cut what flesh is good, and we employ ourselves skinning the animals which we take."
"Is the beaver flesh good?"
"Yes, ma'am, very tolerable eating; perhaps the best we find at that time."
"But what a miserable life that must be," said Mrs. Campbell.
"Well, ma'am, you may think so, but we hunters think otherwise," replied Malachi; "we are used to it, and to being left alone to our own thoughts."
"That's true," observed Martin; "I'd rather pass the winter hunting beavers, than pass it at Quebec, miserable as you may imagine the life to be."
"There must be a charm in the life, that is certain," observed Mr. Campbell; "for how many are engaged in it who go out year after year, and never think of laying up any of their earnings."
"Very true, sir," replied Martin; "what they make from their skins is spent as soon as they get to Quebec, as I know well, and then they set off again."
"Why they are like sailors," observed Alfred, "who, after a long cruise, spend all their wages and prize-money in a few days, and then go to sea again for more."
"Exactly," replied Malachi; "and what's the use of money if you keep it? A trapper can always take up as much powder and ball as he wants upon credit, and pay with a portion of his skins on his return. What does he want with the rest? It's of no use to him, and so of course he spends it."
"But would it not be better to put it by until he had sufficient to buy a farm, and live comfortably?"
"But does he live comfortably, ma'am?" said Malachi; "has he not more work to do, more things to look after, and more to care for with a farm, than when he has nothing?"
"It's very true philosophy, after all," observed Mr. Campbell; "happy is the man who is content to be poor. If a man prefers to live entirely upon flesh, as the hunters do, there is no reason why he should work hard and till the ground to procure bread; when the wants are few, the cares are few also; but still, even the savage must feel the necessity of exertion when he has a wife and family."
"Yes, sir, to be sure he does, and he works hard in his own way to procure their food; but trappers seldom have wives; they would be no use to them in the woods, and they have no one to provide for but themselves."
"It appears to me like a savage life, but a very independent one," said Mrs. Campbell, "and I presume it is the independence which gives it such charms."
"That's it, depend upon it, ma'am," replied Martin.
"But what do you do all the summer time, Malachi?"
"Why, ma'am, we take to our rifles then; there are the deer, and the lynx, and the wild cats, and squirrels, and the bear, and many other animals to look after; and sometimes we go bee-hunting, for the honey."
"Pray tell us how you take the honey, Malachi."
"Why, ma'am, the bees always live in the hollow of the old trees, and it's very difficult in a forest to find them out, for the hole which they enter by is very small and very high up sometimes; however, when we get a lead, we generally manage it."
"Tell us what you mean, Malachi."
"We catch the bees as they settle upon the flowers to obtain honey, and then we let them go again. The bee, as soon as it is allowed to escape, flies straight toward its hive; we watch it till we can no longer see it, and walk in that direction and catch another, and so we go on till we see them settle upon a tree, and then we know that the hive and honey must be in that tree, so we cut it down."
"How very clever," said Percival.
"It requires a sharp eye though," said Martin, "to watch the bee far; some of the trappers catch the bees and give them sugar mixed with whisky. This makes them tipsy, and they can not fly so fast, and then they discover the hive much sooner, as they can run almost as fast as the bee flies."
"That's capital," cried Percival; "but tell me, Martin, how do you kill the bears?"
"Why, Master Percival, with our rifles, to be sure; the easiest way to kill them is when they are in their holes in the hollow trees."
"How do you get them out?"
"Why, we knock the tree with our axes, and they come out to see what's the matter, and as soon as they put their heads out, we shoot them."
"Are you in earnest, Martin?"
"Yes, ma'am; quite in earnest," replied Martin.
"It's all true, ma'am," said the hunter; "the bears about here are not very savage. We had much worse down in Maine. I've seen the Indians in a canoe on a river watching the bears as they swam across, and kill in the water six or seven in one day."
"Still a bear is an awkward sort of animal when it's angry," replied Martin; "and, as we may have them down here in the autumn, it's as well not to let them be thought too lightly of."
"Indeed, there's no fear of that," said Emma; "as for Malachi, he thinks nothing dangerous; but I have no wish to see a bear. You say we may expect them, Martin. Why so?"
"Because, miss, they are very fond of maize, and we have a field of it sown, which may tempt them."
"Well, if they do come, I must trust to my rifle," replied Emma, laughing; "at all events, I do not fear them so much as I did when I first came here."
"Don't fire, miss, without you're sure of killing," said Malachi. "The creatures are very dangerous when wounded."
"Don't be afraid; I'll only fire in self-defense, Malachi; that is, when I have no other chance left. I had rather trust to my heels than my rifle. Were you ever hugged by a bear?"
"Well, I wasn't ever hugged; but once I was much closer to one than ever I wish to be again."
"Oh! when was that? Do, pray, tell us," said Emma.
"It was when I was young, that one day I sounded a tree in the forest with my ax, and I was certain that a bear was in it: but the animal did not show itself, so I climbed up the tree to examine the hole at the top, and see if the bear was at home; as, if so, I was determined to have him out. Well, miss, I was on the top of the hollow trunk, and was just putting my head down into the hole, when, all of a sudden, the edge of the tree which I kneeled upon gave way, like so much tinder, and down I went into the hollow; luckily for me I did not go down head foremost, or there I should have remained till this time, for the hole in the middle of the tree, as I found, was too narrow for me to have turned in, and there I must have stuck. As it was, I went down with the dust and crumbles smothering me almost, till I came right on the top of the bear, who lay at the bottom, and I fell with such force, that I doubled his head down so that he could not lay hold of me with his teeth, which would not have been pleasant; indeed, the bear was quite as much, if not more astonished than myself, and there he lay beneath me, very quiet, till I could recover a little. Then I thought of getting out, as you may suppose, fast enough, and the hollow of the tree, providentially, was not so wide but that I could work up again with my back to one side and my knees to the other. By this means I gradually got up again to the hole that I fell in at, and perched myself across the timber to fetch my breath. I had not been there more than a quarter of a minute, and I intended to have remained much longer, when I perceived, all of a sudden, the bear's head within a foot of me; he had climbed up after me, and I saw that he was very angry, so in a moment I threw myself off my perch, and down I went to the ground at the foot of the tree, a matter of near twenty feet, even faster than I went down inside of it. I was severely shaken with the fall, but no bones were broken; in fact, I was more frightened than hurt; I lay quite still for a little while, when the growl of the bear put me in mind of him; I jumped on my legs, and found that he was coming down the tree after me, and was within six feet of the ground. There was no time to lose; I caught up my rifle, and had just time to put it to his ear and settle him, as he was placing his fore-foot on the ground."
"What a narrow escape!"
"Well, perhaps it was, but there's no saying, miss, which beats till the fight is over."
