"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."
CHAPTER XXIV
A notice arrived that the departure of the boat to Montreal would take place on the next morning. When the boat came up, it brought Captain Sinclair, to the great delight of the whole party, who had felt very anxious about one with whom they had so long been intimate and who had shown them so much kindness. His knee was almost well, and as soon as the first interrogations were over, he made known to them that he had obtained six weeks' leave of absence, and was about to proceed to Quebec.
"To Quebec!" cried Emma, "and why are you going to Quebec?"
"To confess the truth, Emma," said Captain Sinclair, "my journey to Quebec is but the preparatory step to my return to England for perhaps two or three months."
"To England! Oh! how I wish—;" but here Emma stopped; she was going to say how much she wished that she was going also, but her uncle and aunt were present, and, recollecting that it might pain them and induce them to think that she was discontented, she added, "that you would bring me out all the new fashions."
"All the new fashions, my dear Emma?" said Henry. "Why, do you wish to be fashionably dressed in the woods of Canada?"
"Why not?" exclaimed Emma, who felt that she must appear to be very foolish, but could not get out of her scrape. "I can look at myself in the glass at all events."
"I will try to bring you out something which will give you pleasure," replied Captain Sinclair, "but as for the fashions, I know you are only joking, by your trusting a person so incompetent as I am to select them."
"Well, I do not think you would execute my commission very well, so I will not trouble you," replied Emma; "and now let us know why you are going to England."
"My dear Emma," said Mr. Campbell, "you ought not to put such questions; Captain Sinclair has his own reasons, I have no doubt."
"It is very true that I have my own reasons," replied Captain Sinclair, "and, as I have no secrets, I will with pleasure gratify Emma's curiosity. I do not know whether you are aware that I was an orphan at a very early age, and have been under the charge of a guardian. When my father died, he left directions in his will that I was not to take possession of my property till I was twenty-five years of age. I was twenty-five years old last year, and my guardian has written requesting me to come home, that he may be relieved of his responsibility, by making over to me the trust which has been confided to him."
"Will it detain you long?" inquired Mr. Campbell.
"It must not. It is very difficult to obtain leave of absence from your regiment in time of war. It is only through interest that I do so now. On my arrival at Quebec, the Governor will put me on his staff, and then he will give me leave. I shall not stay longer than is necessary, as I am anxious to be with my regiment again. You may, therefore, be certain that, if I am spared, I shall be with you again before the winter, if not much sooner. So now if you have really any commissions for me to execute, I can only say I shall be most happy to comply with your wishes to the best of my ability."
"Well," observed Emma, "we really were not aware that Captain Sinclair was a man of fortune. You think now you will come back," continued she, gravely, "but if once you get to England, you will remain, and forget all about Canada."
"My fortune is not very large," replied Captain Sinclair; "in England, hardly sufficient to induce a young lady of fashion to look upon me, although enough, perhaps, for a sensible woman to be happy upon. My fortune, therefore, will not detain me in England, and, as I said before, my greatest wish is to rejoin my regiment."
"Whether you come back or remain," observed Mr. Campbell, "you will always have our best wishes, Captain Sinclair. We are not ungrateful for your kindness to us."
"Nor shall I forget the many happy hours I have passed in your society," replied Captain Sinclair; "but we shall be melancholy if we talk too long upon the subject. The boat can not remain more than two hours, and Henry must be ready by that time. The commandant is anxious that it should start for Montreal this very evening."
"Then, indeed, we have no time to lose," observed Mr. Campbell; "Henry, get your trunk ready, and Martin will take it down into the boat before we sit down to dinner. It will be a long while before we have you to dine with us again," continued Mr. Campbell to Captain Sinclair; "but I wish you your health and much happiness till you return. Come, girls, look after the dinner. Mary! where's Mary?"
"She went into the room a few minutes ago," said Emma, "but I'm here, and can do all that is required without her or my aunt either. Come, Percival, lay the cloth; Alfred, come and help me, this is almost too heavy for me. Oh, here comes my aunt: now you may go away, Alfred; we can get on better without you."
"There's gratitude," said Alfred, laughing.
As Henry had been in daily expectation of the summons, he was not long in his preparations, and in a few minutes made his appearance, accompanied by Mary Percival. They then sat down to dinner, not very cheerful, for Captain Sinclair's unexpected departure had thrown a gloom over them all; however, they rallied a little toward the close of the meal, and Mr. Campbell produced one of his bottles of wine to drink success and happiness to the travelers. It was then time to start. Captain Sinclair and Henry shook hands with Mr. Campbell and the Miss Percivals, and accompanied by the gentlemen of the party, walked down to the beach.
"I can't bear parting with any one that I have been so intimate with," said Emma, after they were left alone. "I declare I could sit down and have a hearty cry at Captain Sinclair's departure."
Mary sighed, but made no answer.
"I am not surprised to hear you say so, Emma," said Mrs. Campbell. "In England, when we were surrounded with friends, parting was always painful; but here where we have so few, I might almost say only Captain Sinclair, it is of course most painful. However, it's only for a time, I hope."