The Settlers in Canada

Martin was correct in his observation; the wind had lulled for a moment, and he had felt the drops of rain. This pause continued for about three or four minutes, during which the cow-house burned furiously, but the ashes and sparks were no longer hurled down on the prairie; then suddenly the wind shifted to the south-east, with such torrents of rain as almost to blind them. So violent was the gust, that even the punt careened to it; but Alfred pulled its head round smartly, and put it before the wind. The gale was now equally strong from the quarter to which it had changed; the lake became agitated and covered with white foam, and before the punt reached the shore again, which it did in a few minutes, the water washed over its two sides, and they were in danger of swamping. Alfred directed them all to sit still, and raising the blades of the oars up into the air, the punt was dashed furiously through the waves, till it grounded on the beach.

Martin and Alfred jumped out into the water and hauled the punt further before they disembarked; the rain still poured down in torrents, and they were wet to the skin; as they landed, they were met by Malachi and John.

"It's all over, and all is safe!" exclaimed Malachi, "it was touch and go, that's sartin; but all's safe, except the cow-house, and that's easily put to rights again. You all had better go home as fast as you can, and get to bed."

"Is all quite safe, do you think, Malachi?" said Mr. Campbell.

"Yes, sir, no fear now; the fire hasn't passed the stream, and even if it had, this rain would put it out, for we only have the beginning of it; but it was a near thing, that's sartin."

The party walked back to the house, and as soon as they had entered, Mr. Campbell kneeled down and thanked Heaven for their miraculous preservation. All joined heartily in the prayer, and, after they had waited up a few minutes, by which time they were satisfied that the flames were fast extinguishing and they had nothing more to fear, they took off their wet clothes, and retired to bed.

The next morning they rose early, for all were anxious to ascertain the mischief which had been occasioned by the fire. The cow-house, on the opposite side of the stream, was the only part of the premises which had severely suffered; the walls were standing, but the roof was burned. On the side of the stream where the house stood, the rails and many portions of the buildings were actually charred, and, had it not been for the providential change of the wind and the falling of the rain, must in a few minutes have been destroyed. The prairie was covered with cinders, and the grass was burned and withered. The forest on the other side of the stream, to a great extent, was burned down; some of the largest trees still remained, throwing out their blackened arms, now leafless and branchless, to the sky, but they were never to throw forth a branch or leaf again. It was a melancholy and desolate picture, and rendered still more so by the heavy rain which still continued to pour down without intermission.

As they were surveying the scene, Malachi and Martin came to them.

"The stock are all right, sir," said Martin; "I counted them, and there is not one missing. There's no harm done except to the cow-house; on the contrary, the fire has proved a good friend to us."

"How so, Martin?" asked Mr. Campbell.

"Because it has cleared many acres, of ground, and saved us much labor. All on the other side of the stream is now cleared away, and next spring we will have corn between the stumps; and in autumn, after we have gathered in the harvest, we will cut down and burn the trees which are now standing. It has done a deal of good to the prairie also, we shall have fine herbage there next spring."

"We have to thank Heaven for its mercy," said Mr. Campbell; "at one time yesterday evening, I thought we were about to be rendered destitute indeed, but it has pleased God that it should be otherwise."

"Yes, sir," observed Malachi; "what threatened your ruin has turned out to your advantage. Next year you will see every thing green and fresh as before; and, as Martin says, you have to thank the fire for clearing away more land for you than a whole regiment of soldiers could have done in two or three years."

"But we must work hard and get in the corn next spring, for otherwise the brushwood will grow up so fast, as to become a forest again in a few years."

"I never thought of inquiring," said Mary, "how it was that the forest could have taken fire."

"Why, miss," replied Malachi, "in the autumn, when every thing is as dry as tinder, nothing is more easy. The Indians light their fire, and do not take the trouble to put it out, and that is generally the cause of it; but then it requires wind to help it."

The danger that they had escaped made a serious impression on the whole party, and the following day, being Sunday, Mr. Campbell did not forget to offer up a prayer of thankfulness for their preservation.

The roof of the cow-house was soon repaired by Alfred and Martin, and the Indian summer passed away without any further adventure.

The day after the fire, a dispatch arrived from the fort to ascertain their welfare, and the Colonel and officers were greatly rejoiced to learn that comparatively so little damage had been done, for they expected to find that the family had been burned out, and had made arrangements at the fort to receive them.

Gradually the weather became cold and the fires were lighted, and a month after the evil we have described, the winter again set in.

CHAPTER XXIX

Once more was the ground covered with snow to the depth of three feet. The cattle were littered down inside the inclosure of palisades round the cow-house; the sheep were driven into the inclosed sheep-fold, and the horses were put into a portion of the barn in the sheep-fold which had been parted off for them. All was made secure, and every preparation was made for the long winter. Although there had been a fall of snow, the severe frost had not yet come on. It did, however, in about a fortnight afterward, and then, according to the wishes of the Colonel, six oxen were killed for the use of the fort, and taken there by the horses on a sledge; this was the last task that they had to fulfill, and then Alfred bade adieu to the officers of the fort, as they did not expect to meet again till the winter was over. Having experienced one winter, they were more fully prepared for the second; and as Malachi, the Strawberry and John were now regular inmates of the house, for they did not keep a separate table, there was a greater feeling of security, and the monotony and dreariness were not so great as in the preceding winter: moreover, every thing was now in its place, and they had more to attend to,—two circumstances which greatly contributed to relieve the ennui arising from continual confinement. The hunting parties went out as usual; only Henry, and occasionally Alfred, remained at home to attend to the stock, and to perform other offices which the increase of their establishment required. The new books brought by Henry from Montreal, and which by common consent had been laid aside for the winter's evenings, were now a great source of amusement, as Mr. Campbell read aloud a portion of them every evening. Time passed away quickly, as it always does when there is a regular routine of duties and employment, and Christmas came before they were aware of its approach.

It was a great comfort to Mrs. Campbell that she now always had John at home, except when he was out hunting, and on that score she had long dismissed all anxiety, as she had full confidence in Malachi; but latterly Malachi and John seldom went out alone; indeed, the old man appeared to like being in company, and his misanthropy had wholly disappeared. He now invariably spent his evenings with the family assembled round the kitchen fire, and had become much more fond of hearing his own voice. John did not so much admire these evening parties. He cared nothing for new books, or indeed any books. He would amuse himself making moccasins, or working porcupine quills with the Strawberry at one corner of the fire, and the others might talk or read, it was all the same, John never said a word or appeared to pay the least attention to what was said. His father occasionally tried to make him learn something, but it was useless. He would remain for hours with his book before him, but his mind was elsewhere. Mr. Campbell, therefore, gave up the attempt for the present, indulging the hope that when John was older, he would be more aware of the advantages of education, and would become more attentive. At present, it was only inflicting pain on the boy without any advantage being gained. But John did not always sit by the kitchen fire. The wolves were much more numerous than in the preceding winter, having been attracted by the sheep which were within the palisade, and every night the howling was incessant. The howl of a wolf was sufficient to make John seize his rifle and leave the house, and he would remain in the snow for hours till one came sufficiently near for him to fire, and he had already killed several when a circumstance occurred which was the cause of great uneasiness.

John was out one evening as usual, crouched down within the palisades, and watching for the wolves. It was a bright starry night, but there was no moon, when he perceived one of the animals crawling along almost on its belly, close to the door of the palisade which surrounded the house. This surprised him, as generally speaking, the animals prowled round the palisade which encircled the sheep-fold, or else close to the pig-sties which were at the opposite side from the entrance door. John leveled his rifle and fired, when to his astonishment, the wolf appeared to spring up in the air on his hind legs, then fall down and roll away. The key of the palisade door was always kept within, and John determined to go in and fetch it, that he might ascertain whether he had killed the animal or not. When he entered, Malachi said, "Did you kill, my boy?"

"Don't know," replied John; "come for the key to see."

"I don't like the gate being opened at night, John," said Mr. Campbell; "why don't you leave it, as you usually do, till to-morrow morning; that will be time enough?"

"I don't know if it was a wolf," replied John.

"What, then, boy, tell me?" said Malachi.

"Well, I think it was an Indian," replied John; who then explained what had passed.

"Well, I shouldn't wonder," replied Malachi; "at all events the gate must not be opened to-night, for if it was an Indian you fired at, there is more than one of them; we'll keep all fast, John, and see what it was to-morrow."

Mrs. Campbell and the girls were much alarmed at this event, and it was with difficulty that they were persuaded to retire to rest.

"We will keep watch to-night at all events," said Malachi, as soon as Mrs. Campbell and her nieces had left the room. "The boy is right, I have no doubt. It is the Angry Snake and his party who are prowling about, but if the boy has hit the Indian, which I have no doubt of, they will make off; however, it will be just as well to be on our guard, nevertheless. Martin can watch here and I will watch in the fold."

We have before observed that the lodge of Malachi, Martin, and his wife, was built within the palisade of the sheep-fold, and that there was a passage from the palisade round the house to that which surrounded the sheep-fold, which passage had also a palisade on each side of it.

"I will watch here," said Alfred; "let Martin go home with you and his wife."

"I will watch with you," said John.

"Well, perhaps that will be better," said Malachi; "two rifles are better than one, and if any assistance is required, there will be one to send for it."

"But what do you think they would do, Malachi?" said Mr. Campbell; "they can not climb the palisades."

"Not well, sir, nor do I think they would attempt it unless they had a large force, which I am sure they have not; no, sir, they would rather endeavor to set fire to the house if they could, but that's not so easy; one thing is certain, that the Snake will try all he can to get possession of what he saw in your storehouse."

"That I do not doubt," said Alfred; "but he will not find it so easy a matter."

"They've been reconnoitering, sir, that's the truth of it, and if John has helped one of them to a bit of lead, it will do good; for it will prove that we are on the alert, and make them careful how they come near the house again."

After a few minutes' more conversation, Mr. Campbell, Henry, and Percival retired, leaving the others to watch. Alfred walked home with Malachi and his party to see if all was right at the sheep-fold, and then returned.

The night passed without any further disturbance except the howling of the wolves, to which they were accustomed.

The next morning, at daybreak, Malachi and Martin came to the house, and, with John and Alfred, they opened the palisade gate, and went out to survey the spot where John had fired.

"Yes, sir," said Malachi; "it was an Indian, no doubt of it; here are the dents made in the snow by his knees as he crawled along, and John has hit him, for here is the blood. Let's follow the trail. See, sir, he has been hard hit; there is more blood this way as we go on. Ha!" continued Malachi, as he passed by a mound of snow, "here's the wolf-skin he was covered up with; then he is dead or thereabouts, and they have carried him off, for he never would have parted with his skin, if he had had his senses about him."

"Yes," observed Martin, "his wound was mortal, that's certain."

They pursued the track till they arrived at the forest, and then, satisfied by the marks on the snow that the wounded man had been carried away, they returned to the house, when they found the rest of the family dressed and in the kitchen. Alfred showed them the skin of the wolf, and informed them of what they had discovered.

"I am grieved that blood has been shed," observed Mrs. Campbell; "I wish it had not happened. I have heard that the Indians never forgive on such occasions."

"Why, ma'am, they are very revengeful, that's certain, but still they won't like to risk too much. This has been a lesson to them. I only wish it had been the Angry Snake himself who was settled, as then we should have no more trouble or anxiety about them."

"Perhaps it may be," said Alfred.

"No, sir, that's not likely; it's one of his young men; I know the Indian customs well."