The Settlers in Canada

"No," replied Emma; "our avocation is losing all its charms, and a pleasure now almost settles down to a duty."

"Alfred and Henry are with Martin about the fishing-boat," observed Mary.

"Yes," replied Emma; "but I fancy, Mary, you were thinking more of Captain Sinclair than of your cousins."

"That is very true, Emma; I was thinking of him," replied Mary, gravely. "You don't know how I feel his absence."

"I can imagine it, though, my dearest Mary. Shall we soon see him again?"

"I do not know; but I think not for three or four weeks, for certain. All that can be spared from the fort are gone haymaking, and if he is one of the officers sent with the men, of course he will be absent, and if he is left in the fort, he will be obliged to remain there; so there is no chance of seeing him until the haymaking is over."

"Where is it that they go to make hay, Mary?"

"You know they have only a sufficiency of pasture round the fort for the cattle during the summer, so they go along by the borders of the lake and islands, where they know there are patches of clear land, cut the grass down, make the hay, and collect it all in the bateaux, and carry it to the fort to be stacked for the winter. This prairie was their best help, but now they have lost it."

"But Colonel Forster has promised papa sufficient hay for the cows for this winter; indeed, we could not have fed them unless he had done so. Depend upon it, Captain Sinclair will bring the hay round, and then we shall see him again, Mary; but we must walk after our own cows now. No one to drive them for us. If Alfred had any manners he might have come."

"And why not Henry, Emma?" said Mary, with a smile.

"Oh! I don't know; Alfred came into my thoughts first."

"I believe that really was the case," replied Mary. "Now I'm even with you; so go along and milk your cows."

"It's all very well, miss," replied Emma, laughing; "but wait till I have learned to fire my rifle, and then you'll be more cautious of what you say."

On their return home, they found the old hunter with a fine buck lying before him. Mr. Campbell was out with the boys and Martin, who wished his opinion as to the size of the punt.

"How do you do, Mr. Bone?" said Mary. "Did John shoot that deer?"

"Yes; and shot it as well as an old hunter, and the creatur' can hardly lift the gun to his shoulder. Which of you is named Mary?"

"I am," said Mary.

"Then I've something for you," said old Malachi, pulling from out of his vest a small parcel, wrapped up in thin bark, and handing it to her; "it's a present from the Strawberry."

Mary opened the bark, and found inside of it a pair of moccasins, very prettily worked in stained porcupines' quills.

"Oh! how beautiful, and how kind of her! Tell her that I thank her, and love her very much. Will you?"

"Yes; I'll tell her. Where's the boy?"

"Who, John? I think he's gone up the stream to take some trout; he'll be back to breakfast, and that's just ready. Come, Emma, we must go in with the milk."

Mr. Campbell and those who were with him soon returned.

Malachi Bone then stated that he had brought the buck killed by John; and that, if it suited, he would carry back with him a keg of gunpowder and some lead; that he wished Mr. Campbell to calculate what he considered due to him for the property, and let him take it out in goods, as he required them.

"Why don't you name your own price, Malachi?" said Mr. Campbell.

"How can I name a price? It was given to me and cost nothing. I leave it all to you and Martin Super, as I said before."

"You show great confidence in me, I must say. Well Bone, I will not cheat you; but I am afraid you will be a long while before you are paid, if you only take it out in goods from my store-house."

"All the better, master; they will last till I die, and then what's left will do for the boy here," replied the old hunter, putting his hand upon John's head.

"Bone," said Mr. Campbell, "I have no objection to the boy going with you occasionally; but I cannot permit him to be away always. I want him to come home the day after he has been to see you."

"Well, that's not reasonable, master. We go out after the game; who knows where we may find it, how long we may look for it, and how far it may lead us? Must we give up the chase when close upon it, because time's up? That'll never do. I want to make the boy a hunter, and he must learn to sleep out and do every thing else as concerns a hunter to do. You must let him be with me longer, and, if you please, when he comes back keep him longer; but if you wish him to be a man, the more he stays with me the better. He shall know all the Indian craft, I promise you, and the winter after this he shall take beavers and bring you the skins."

"I think, sir," observed Martin, "it's all in reason what the old man says."

"And so do I," said Alfred; "after all, it's only sending John to school. Let him go, father, and have him home for the holidays."

"I'll always come to you, when I can," said John.

"I am more satisfied at John's saying that than you might imagine," said Mrs. Campbell; "John is an honest boy, and does not say what he does not mean."

"Well, my dear, if you have no objection, I'm sure I will not raise any more."

"I think I shall gain more by John's affection than by compulsion, my dear husband. He says he will always come when he can, and I believe him; I have, therefore, no objection to let him stay with Malachi Bone, at all events for a week or so at a time."

"But his education, my dear."

"He is certain to learn nothing now that this fever for the woods, if I may so call it, is upon him. He will, perhaps, be more teachable a year or two hence. You must be aware that we have no common disposition to deal with in that child; and however my maternal feelings may oppose my judgment, it is still strong enough to make me feel that my decision is for his benefit. We must not here put the value upon a finished education which we used to do. Let us give him every advantage which the peculiarity of his position will allow us to do; but we are now in the woods, to a certain degree returned to a state of nature, and the first and most important knowledge, is to learn to gain our livelihoods."

"Well, my dear, I think you are correct in your views on the subject, and therefore, John, you may go to school with Malachi Bone; come to see us when you can, and I expect you to turn out the Nimrod of the west."

Old Malachi stared at the conclusion of this speech; Alfred observed his surprise, and burst into a fit of laughter. He then said, "The English of all that is, Malachi, that my brother John has my father's leave to go with you, and you're to make a man of him."

"He who made him must make a man of him," replied Bone: "I can only make him a good hunter, and that I will, if he and I are spared. Now, master, if Martin will give me the powder and lead, I'll be off again. Is the boy to go?"

"Yes, if you desire it," replied Mrs. Campbell; "come, John, and wish me good-by and remember your promise."

John bade farewell to the whole party with all due decorum, and then trotted off after his schoolmaster.

CHAPTER XIII

In the course of a week or two, things found their places, and the family began to feel more comfortable; there was also a degree of regularity and order established, which could not be effected during the time that the soldiers were employed. Mrs. Campbell and Percival took upon them all the work inside and round the house during the morning; the latter attending to the pigs and fowls, bringing water from the stream, etc. Mary and Emma milked the cows, and then assisted their mother during the day in washing, etc. Mr. Campbell instructed Percival, worked in the garden, and assisted as much as he could, where he might be found most useful; but he was too advanced in years to be capable of much hard work. Alfred, Henry and Martin Super were employed during the whole day, clearing the ground and felling the timber; but every other day, one or the other went out with Martin into the woods to procure food, bringing home with them deer, wild turkeys, or other game, which with an occasional piece of salt-pork, and the fish caught, were sufficient for the family consumption. Percival was now permitted to accompany the hunting-parties, and became somewhat expert with his rifle. He required only a little more practice to be a good shot.

They rose at half-past five,—were all assembled to prayers at half-past seven, previous to going to breakfast. They dined at one, and had a combined tea and supper at seven o'clock. At nine o'clock they went to bed. Before two months had passed away, every thing went on like clock-work. One day passed away so like another, that the time flew imperceptibly, and they wondered that the Sundays came round so quick. They had now time to unpack every thing, and the books which Mrs. Campbell had selected and brought with her had been arranged on shelves in the parlor; but they had not as yet much time to read, and were generally too tired before the day was over not to long for their beds. Indeed, the only interval of leisure during the whole day was between supper and bedtime, when they would all assemble in the kitchen and talk over the little matters which had occurred either during the chase or at home. But they were now in the middle of October, the winter was fast approaching, and they looked forward to it with some degree of anxiety.

John had kept his word very sacredly. He was occasionally absent for three or four days, but if so, he invariably came to the house and remained a day or two at home. Alfred and Martin had long finished the fishing-punt, and as it was light and easily handled, Henry and Percival went out in it together, and when he was at home, John with Percival would pull half a mile out into the lake, and soon return with a supply of large fish. Mrs. Campbell, therefore, had salted down sufficient to fill a barrel for the winter's use.

One day they were agreeably surprised by Captain Sinclair making his appearance. He had walked from the fort, to communicate to them that the hay had been gathered in, and would be sent round in a day or two, and also to inform Mr. Campbell that the commandant could spare them a young bullock, if he would wish to have it for winter provision. This offer was gladly accepted, and, having partaken of their dinner, Captain Sinclair was obliged to return to the fort, he being that night on duty. Previous, however, to his return, he had some conversation with Martin Super, unobserved by the rest of the party. Afterward he invited Alfred to walk back to the fort with him and return on the following morning. Alfred agreed to do so; and two hours before it was dark they set off, and as soon as they were on the opposite side of the brook they were joined by Martin Super.

"My reasons for asking you to come back with me were twofold," said Captain Sinclair to Alfred. "In the first place, I wish you to know the road to the fort, in case it should be necessary to make any communication during the winter; secondly, I wished to have some conversation with you and Martin relative to information we have received about the Indians. I can tell you privately what I was unwilling to say before your mother and cousins, as it would put them in a state of restlessness and anxiety, which could avail nothing and only annoy them. The fact is, we have for some time had information that the Indians have held several councils. It does not appear, however, that they have as yet decided upon any thing, although it is certain that they have gathered together in large numbers not very far from the fort. No doubt but they have French emissaries inciting them to attack us. From what we can learn, however, they have not agreed among themselves, and, therefore, in all probability, nothing will be attempted until next year, for the autumn is their season for sending out their war-parties. At the same time, there is no security, for there is a great difference between a junction of all the tribes against us and a common Indian war-party. We must, therefore, be on the alert, for we have a treacherous foe to deal with. And now, for your portion of interest in this affair. If they attack the fort, which they may do, notwithstanding our treaties with them, you of course would not be safe where you are; but, unfortunately, you may not be safe even if we are not molested; for when the Indians collect (even though the main body decide upon nothing), there are always bands of five to ten Indians, who, having left their homes, will not return if they can help it without some booty; these are not regular warriors, or if warriors, not much esteemed by the tribe; in fact, they are the worst classes of Indians, who are mere robbers and banditti. You must, therefore, be on the look-out for the visits of these people. It is fortunate for you that old Bone has shifted his abode so many miles to the westward, and that you are on such good terms with him, as it is not very likely that any party of Indians can approach you without his meeting with them or their track during his excursions."

"That's true, Captain," observed Martin, "and I will go myself and put him on his guard."