The Settlers in Canada

"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.

CHAPTER XII

The Campbells remained for some time on the shore of the lake watching the receding bateaux until they turned round the point and were hidden from their sight, and then they walked back to the house. But few words were exchanged as they returned, for they felt a sensation of loneliness from having parted with so many of their own countrymen; not that they were, with the exception of Captain Sinclair, companions, but that, accustomed to the sight of the soldiers at their labor, the spot now appeared depopulated by their departure. Martin, too, and John, were both absent; the latter had been two days away, and Martin, who had not yet found time to ascertain where old Malachi Bone had fixed his new abode, had gone out in search of it, and to mention to him Mr. Campbell's wishes as to John's visits to him, which were becoming more frequent and more lengthened than Mr. Campbell wished them to be.

When they entered the house, they all sat down, and Mr. Campbell then first spoke.

"Well, my dearest wife, here we are at last, left to ourselves and to our own resources. I am not at all doubtful of our doing well, if we exert ourselves, as it is our duty to do. I grant that we may have hardship to combat, difficulties to overcome, occasional disappointments and losses to bear up against; but let us recollect how greatly we have, through Providence, been already assisted and encouraged, how much help we have received, and how much kindness we have experienced. Surely we ought to feel most grateful to Heaven for blessings already vouchsafed to us, and ought to have a firm and lively faith in Him, who has hitherto so kindly watched over us. Let us not then repine or feel dispirited, but with grateful hearts do our duty cheerfully in that state of life to which it has pleased Him to call us."

"I agree with you, my dear husband," replied Mrs. Campbell; "nay, I can say with sincerity, that I am not sorry we are now left to our own exertions, and that we have an opportunity of proving that we can do without the assistance of others. Up to the present, our trial has been nothing; indeed, I can not fancy to myself what our trials are to be. Come they may, but from what quarter I can not form an idea: should they come, however, I trust we shall show our gratitude for the past blessings, and our faith derived from past deliverances, by a devout submission to whatever the Almighty may please to try or chasten us with."

"Right, my dear," replied Mr. Campbell; "we will hope for the best; we are as much under his protection here in the wilderness, as we were at Wexton Park; we were just as liable to all the ills which flesh is heir to when we were living in opulence and luxury as we are now in this log-house; but we are, I thank God, not so liable in our present position to forget Him, who so bountifully provides for us and in His wisdom ordereth all our ways. Most truly has the poet said—

"'Sweet are the uses of adversity!'"

"Well," observed Emma, after a pause, as if to give a more lively turn to the conversation. "I wonder what my trials are to be! Depend upon it, the cow will kick down the pail, or the butter won't come!"

"Or you'll get chapped fingers in the winter-time, and chilblains on your feet," continued Mary.