Фредерик Марриет
The Settlers in Canada
CHAPTER X
The next morning, when they assembled at breakfast, after Mr. Campbell had read the prayers, Mary Percival said, "Did you hear that strange and loud noise last night? I was very much startled with it; but, as nobody said a word, I held my tongue."
"Nobody said a word, because every body was fast asleep, I presume," said Alfred; "I heard nothing."
"It was like the sound of cart-wheels at a distance, with whistling and hissing," continued Mary.
"I think I can explain it to you, as I was up during the night, Miss Percival," said Captain Sinclair. "It is a noise you must expect every night during the summer season; but one to which you will soon be accustomed."
"Why, what was it?"
"Frogs,—nothing more; except, indeed, the hissing, which, I believe, is made by the lizards. They will serenade you every night. I only hope you will not be disturbed by any thing more dangerous."
"Is it possible that such small creatures can make such a din?"
"Yes; when thousands join in the concert; I may say millions."
"Well, I thank you for the explanation, Captain Sinclair, as it has been some relief to my mind."
After breakfast, Martin (we shall for the future leave out his surname) informed Mr. Campbell that he had seen Malachi Bone, the hunter, who had expressed great dissatisfaction at their arrival, and his determination to quit the place if they remained.
"Surely, he hardly expects us to quit the place to please him?"
"No," replied Martin; "but if he were cankered in disposition, which I will say Malachi is not, he might make it very unpleasant for you to remain, by bringing the Indians about you."
"Surely, he would not do that?" said Mrs. Campbell.
"No, I don't think he would," replied Martin; "because, you see, it's just as easy for him to go further off."
"But why should we drive him away from his property any more than we leave our own?" observed Mrs. Campbell.
"He says he won't be crowded, ma'am; he can't bear to be crowded."
"Why, there's a river between us."
"So there is, ma'am, but still that's his feeling. I said to him, that if he would go, I dared say Mr. Campbell would buy his allotment of him, and he seems to be quite willing to part with it."
"It would be a great addition to your property, Mr. Campbell," observed Captain Sinclair. "In the first place, you would have the whole of the prairie and the right of the river on both sides, apparently of no consequence now, but as the country fills up, most valuable."
"Well," replied Mr. Campbell, "as I presume we shall remain here, or, at all events, those who survive me will, till the country fills up, I shall be most happy to make any arrangement with Bone for the purchase of his property."
"I'll have some more talk with him, sir,'" replied Martin.
The second day was passed as was the first, in making preparations for erecting the house, which, now that they had obtained such unexpected help, was, by the advice of Captain Sinclair, considerably enlarged beyond the size originally intended. As Mr. Campbell paid the soldiers employed a certain sum per day for their labor, he had less scruple in employing them longer. Two of them were good carpenters, and a sawpit had been dug, that they might prepare the doors and the frames for the window-sashes which Mr. Campbell had taken the precaution to bring with him. On the third day, a boat arrived from the fort bringing the men's rations and a present of two fine bucks from the commandant. Captain Sinclair went in the boat to procure some articles which he required, and returned in the evening. The weather continued fine, and in the course of a week, a great deal of timber was cut and squared. During this time, Martin had several meetings with the old hunter, and it was agreed that he should sell his property to Mr. Campbell. Money he appeared to care little about—indeed it was useless to him; gunpowder, lead, flints, blankets, and tobacco, were the principal articles requested in the barter; the amount, however, was not precisely settled. An intimacy had been struck up between the old hunter and John; in what manner it was difficult to imagine, as they both were very sparing of their words; but this was certain, that John had contrived to get across the stream somehow or another, and was now seldom at home to his meals. Martin reported that he was in the lodge of the old hunter, and that he could come to no harm; so Mrs. Campbell was satisfied.
"But what does he do there, Martin?" said Mrs. Campbell, as they were clearing away the table after supper.
"Just nothing but look at the squaw, or at Malachi cleaning his gun, or any thing else he may see. He never speaks, that I know of, and that's why he suits old Malachi."
"He brought home a whole basket of trout this afternoon," observed Mary; "so he is not quite idle."
"No, miss; he's fishing at daylight, and gives one-half to you and the other to old Bone. He'll make a crack hunter one of these days, as old Malachi says. He can draw the bead on the old man's rifle in good style already, I can tell you."
"How do you mean, Martin?" said Mrs. Campbell.
"I mean that he can fire pretty true, ma'am, although it's a heavy gun for him to lift; a smaller one would do better for him."
"But is he not too young to be trusted with a gun, uncle?" said Mary.
"No, miss," interrupted Martin, "you can't be too young here; the sooner a boy is useful the better; and the boy with a gun is almost as good as a man; for the gun kills equally as well if pointed true. Master Percival must have his gun as soon as I am at leisure to teach him."
"I wish you were at leisure now, Martin," cried Percival.
"You forget, aunt, that you promised to learn to load and fire a rifle yourself," said Mary.
"No. I do not; and I intend to keep my word, as soon as there is time; but John is so very young."
"Well, Mary, I suppose we must enlist too?" said Emma.
"Yes; we'll be the female rifle brigade," replied Mary, laughing.
"I really quite like the idea," continued Emma; "I will put up with no impertinence, recollect, Alfred; excite my displeasure, and I shall take down my rifle."
"I suspect you will do more execution with your eyes, Emma," replied Alfred, laughing.
"Not upon a catamount, as Martin calls it. Pray what is a catamount?"
"A painter, miss."
"Oh, now I know; a catamount is a painter, a painter is a leopard or a panther.—As I live, uncle, here comes the old hunter, with John trotting at his heels. I thought he would come at last. The visit is to me, I'm sure, for when we first met he was dumb with astonishment."
"He well might be," observed Captain Sinclair; "he has not often met with such objects as you and your sister in the woods."
"No," replied Emma; "an English squaw must be rather a rarity."
As she said this, old Malachi Bone came up, and seated himself, without speaking, placing his rifle between his knees.
"Your servant, sir," said Mr. Campbell; "I hope you are well."
"What on earth makes you come here?" said Bone, looking round him. "You are not fit for the wilderness! Winter will arrive soon; and then you go back, I reckon."
"No, we shall not," replied Alfred, "for we have nowhere to go back to; besides, the people are too crowded where we came from, so we came here for more room."
"I reckon you'll crowd me," replied the hunter, "so I'll go further."
"Well, Malachi, the gentleman will pay you for your clearing."
"I told you so," said Martin.
"Yes, you did; but I'd rather not have seen him or his goods."
"By goods, I suppose you mean us about you?" said Emma.
"No, girl, I didn't mean you. I meant gunpowder and the like."
"I think, Emma, you are comprehended in the last word," said Alfred.
"That is more than you are, then, for he did not mention lead," retorted Emma.
"Martin Super, you know I did specify lead on the paper," said Malachi Bone.
"You did, and you shall have it," said Mr. Campbell. "Say what your terms are now, and I will close with you."
"Well, I'll leave that to Martin and you, stranger. I clear out to-morrow."
"To-morrow; and where do you go to?"
Malachi Bone pointed to the westward.
"You'll not hear my rifle," said the old hunter, after a pause; "but I'm thinking you'll never stay here. You don't know what an Ingen's life is; it ain't fit for the like of you. No, there's not one of you, 'cept this boy," continued Malachi, putting his hand on John's head, "that's fit for the woods. Let him come to me. I'll make a hunter of him; won't I, Martin?"
"That you will, if they'll spare him to you."
"We can not spare him altogether," replied Mr. Campbell, "but he shall visit you, if you wish it."
"Well, that's a promise; and I won't go so far as I thought I would. He has a good eye; I'll come for him."
The old man then rose up, and walked away, John following him, without exchanging a word with any of the party.
"My dear Campbell," said his wife, "what do you intend to do about John? You do not intend that the hunter should take him with him?"
"No, certainly not," replied Mr. Campbell; "but I see no reason why he should not be with him occasionally."
"It will be a very good thing for him to be so," said Martin. "If I may advise, let the boy come and go. The old man has taken a fancy to him, and will teach him his woodcraft. It's as well to make a friend of Malachi Bone."
"Why, what good can he do us?" inquired Henry.
"A friend in need is a friend indeed, sir; and a friend in the wilderness is not to be thrown away. Old Malachi is going further out, and if danger occurs, we shall know it from him, for the sake of the boy, and have his help too, if we need it."
"There is much good sense in Martin Super's remarks, Mr. Campbell," observed Captain Sinclair. "You will then have Malachi Bone as an advanced guard, and the fort to fall back upon, if necessary to retreat."
"And, perhaps, the most useful education which he can receive to prepare him for his future life will be from the old hunter."
"The only one which he will take to kindly, at all events," observed Henry.
"Let him go, sir; let him go," said Martin.
"I will give no positive answer, Martin," replied Mr. Campbell. "At all events, I will permit him to visit the old man; there can be no objection to that;—but it is bedtime."
CHAPTER XI
We must pass over six weeks, during which the labor was continued without intermission, and the house was raised, of logs, squared and well fitted; the windows and doors were also put in, and the roof well covered in with large squares of birch-bark, firmly fixed on the rafters. The house consisted of one large room, as a dining-room, and the kitchen, with a floor of well-beaten clay, a smaller room, as a sitting-room, and three bedrooms, all of which were floored; one of the largest of them fitted all round with bed-places against the walls, in the same way as on board of packets; this room was for the four boys, and had two spare bed-places in it. The others, which were for the two girls and Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, were much smaller. But before the house was half built, a large outhouse adjoining to it had been raised to hold the stores which Mr. Campbell had brought with him, with a rough granary made above the store-room. The interior of the house was not yet fitted up, although the furniture had been put in, and the family slept in it, rough as it was, in preference to the tents, as they were very much annoyed with musquitoes. The stores were now safe from the weather, and they had a roof over their heads, which was the grand object that was to be obtained. The carpenters were still very busy fitting up the interior of the house, and the other men were splitting rails for a snake-fence and also selecting small timber for raising a high palisade round the premises. Martin had not been idle. The site of the house was just where the brushwood joined to the prairie, and Martin had been clearing it away and stacking it, and also collecting wood for winter fuel. It had been decided that the four cows, which had been driven round from the fort, should be housed during the winter in the small building on the other side of the stream, which had belonged to Malachi Bone, as it was surrounded with a high snake-fence, and sufficiently large to hold them and even more. The commandant had very kindly selected the most quiet cows to milk, and Mary and Emma Percival had already entered upon their duties: the milk had been put into the store-house until a dairy could be built up. A very neat bridge had been thrown across the stream, and every morning the two girls, generally attended by Henry, Alfred, or Captain Sinclair, crossed over, and soon became expert in their new vocation as dairy-maids. Altogether, things began to wear a promising appearance. Henry and Mr. Campbell had dug up as fast as Martin and Alfred cleared away the brushwood, and the garden had already been cropped with such few articles as could be put in at the season. The commandant had some pigs ready for the settlers as soon as they were ready to receive them, and had more than once come up in the boats to ascertain their progress and to offer any advice that he might consider useful.
We must not, however, forget Malachi Bone. The day after Bone had come to Mr. Campbell, Emma perceived him going away into the woods, with his rifle, followed by her cousin John, and being very curious to see his Indian wife, she persuaded Alfred and Captain Sinclair to accompany her and Mary to the other side of the stream. The great point was to know where to cross it, but as John had found out the means of so doing, it was to be presumed that there was a passage, and they set off to look for it. They found that, about half a mile up the stream, which there ran through the wood, a large tree had been blown down and laid across it, and with the assistance of the young men, Mary and Emma passed it without much difficulty; they then turned back by the side of the stream until they approached the lodge of old Malachi. As they walked toward it, they could not perceive any one stirring; but at last a dog of the Indian breed began to bark; still nobody came out, and they arrived at the door of the lodge where the dog stood; when, sitting on the floor, they perceived the Indian girl whom they were in search of. She was very busy sewing a pair of moccasins out of deer leather. She appeared startled when she first saw Alfred; but when she perceived that the young ladies were with him, her confidence returned. She slightly bowed her head, and continued her work.
"How very young she is," said Emma; "why she can not be more than eighteen years old."
"I doubt if she is so much," replied Captain Sinclair.
"She has a very modest, unaffected look, has she not, Alfred?" said Mary.
"Yes; I think there is something very prepossessing in her countenance."
"She is too young a wife for the old hunter, at all events," observed Alfred.
"That is not unusual among the Indians," said Captain Sinclair; "a very old chief will often have three or four young wives; they are to be considered more in the light of his servants than any thing else."
"But she must think us very rude to talk and stare at her in this manner; I suppose she can not speak English."
"I will speak to her in her own language, if she is a Chippeway or of any of the tribes about here, for they all have the same dialect," said Captain Sinclair.
Captain Sinclair addressed her in the Indian language, and the Indian girl replied in a very soft voice.
"She says her husband is gone to bring home venison."
"Tell her we are coming to live here, and will give her any thing she wants."
MALACHI AND HIS WIFE. P. 104.
Captain Sinclair again addressed her, and received her answer.
"She says that you are beautiful flowers, but not the wild flowers of the country, and that the cold winter will kill you."
"Tell her she will find us alive next summer," said Emma; "and, Captain Sinclair, give her this brooch of mine, and tell her to wear it for my sake."
Captain Sinclair gave the message and the ornament to the Indian girl, who replied, as she looked up and smiled at Emma,
"That she would never forget the beautiful lily who was so kind to the little strawberry-plant."
"Really her language is poetical and beautiful," observed Mary; "I have nothing to give her—Oh! yes, I have; here is my ivory needle-case, with some needles in it. Tell her it will be of use to her when she sews her moccasins. Open it and show her what is inside."
"She says that she will be able to work faster and better, and wishes to look at your foot, that she may be grateful; so put your foot out, Miss Percival."
Mary did so; the Indian girl examined it, and smiled and nodded her head.
"Oh, Captain Sinclair, tell her that the little boy who is gone with her husband is our cousin."
Captain Sinclair reported her answer, which was, "He will be a great hunter and bring home plenty of game by and by."
"Well, now, tell her that we shall always be happy to see her, and that we are going home again; and ask her name, and tell her our own."
As Captain Sinclair interpreted, the Indian girl pronounced after him the names of Mary and Emma very distinctly. "She has your names, you perceive; her own, translated into English, is the strawberry-plant."
They then nodded farewell to the young Indian, and returned home. On the second evening after their visit, as they were at supper, the conversation turned upon the hunter and his young Indian wife, when John, who had, as usual, been silent, suddenly broke out with "Goes away to-morrow!"
"They go away to-morrow, John; where do they go to?" said Mr. Campbell.
"Woods," replied John.
John was correct in his statement. Early the next morning, Malachi Bone, with his rifle on his shoulder and an ax in his hand, was seen crossing the prairie belonging to Mr. Campbell, followed by his wife, who was bent double under her burden, which was composed of all the property which the old hunter possessed, tied up in blankets. He had left word the night before with Martin that he would come back in a few days, as soon as he had squatted, to settle the bargain for his allotment of land made over to Mr. Campbell. This was just before they had sat down to breakfast, and then they observed that John was missing.
"He was here just before prayers," said Mrs. Campbell. "He must have slipped away after the old hunter."
"No doubt of that, ma'am," said Martin. "He will go with him and find out where he puts up his wigwam, and after that he will come back to you; so there is no use sending after him; indeed, we don't know which way to send."
Martin was right. Two days afterward, John made his appearance again, and remained very quietly at home during the whole week, catching fish in the stream or practicing with a bow and some arrows, which he had obtained from Malachi Bone; but the boy appeared to be more taciturn and more fond of being alone than even he was before; still he was obedient and kind toward his mother and cousins, and was fond of Percival's company when he went to take trout from the stream.
It was of course after the departure of the old hunter, that his log hut was taken possession of and the cows put into the meadow in front of it.
As the work became more advanced, Martin went out every day, accompanied either by Alfred or Henry, in pursuit of game. Mr. Campbell had procured an ample supply of ammunition, as well as the rifles, at Quebec. These had been unpacked, and the young men were becoming daily more expert. Up to the present, the supply of game from the fort, and occasional fresh beef, had not rendered it necessary for Mr. Campbell to have much recourse to his barrels of salt-pork, but still it was necessary that a supply should be procured as often as possible, that they might husband their stores. Martin was a certain shot if within distance, and they seldom returned without a deer slung between them. The garden had been cleared away and the pig-sties were finished, but there was still the most arduous portion of the work to commence, which was the felling of the trees to clear the land for the growing of corn. In this they could expect no assistance from the garrison; indeed, from the indulgence of the commandant, they had already obtained more than they could have expected. It was in the last days of August, and the men lent from the garrison were about to be recalled; the houses were completed, the palisade had been raised round the house and store-house, and the men were now required at the fort. Captain Sinclair received several hints from the commandant that he must use all convenient dispatch, and limit his absence to a few days more, which he trusted would be sufficient. Captain Sinclair, who would willingly have remained in society which he so much valued, and who had now become almost one of the family, found that he could make no more excuses. He reported that he would be ready to return on the 1st of September, and on the morning of that day the bateaux arrived to take back the soldiers, and bring the pigs and fowls which had been promised. Mr. Campbell settled his account with Captain Sinclair, by a draft upon his banker at Quebec, for the pay of the soldiers, the cows, and the pigs. The Captain then took leave of his friends with mutual regret, and many kind adieus, and, accompanied by the whole of the family to the beach, embarked with all his men and pulled away for the fort.
