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' llijouiul hiiinclf in ti /iiri;v roi^ii: jlooiiiii -.vith /l^'it.' 
 
 I'.i^'C 193 
 
O F 
 
 >, 
 
 P^^'-^F^T AND Adventure i 
 (^ AN' ADA 
 
 N 
 
 T NF^L.SOri 
 
 rj SONS 
 
7 
 
 >i<J^ntmi kivmif in <* ^itrt^r rtvfity/oiufii/ miA Ng/il. 
 
 I'm* 193, 
 
My Str/\n©e1<escu e 
 
 AND OTHER STORIES 
 
 O F 
 
 
 , t.^ . — ^ *. 
 
 Sport AND AdVentu RE in 
 
 
 Q^NADA 
 
 T NF3L50N r-f SONS 
 
My Strange Rescue 
 
 AND OTHER STORIES 
 
 Of Sport ant) aovcntuce in Canada 
 
 nv 
 
 J. MACDONALD OXLEY 
 
 ' Up Among the Ice-Flocs " 
 
 -»«•«♦- 
 
 THOMAS NELSON AND SONS 
 
 London, Edinburgh, and New York 
 1895 
 
PS2^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 isH ^^ 
 
 c, a 
 
 3 
 
 a J 
 
 2809G3 
 
PKEFATORY NOTE. 
 
 -♦♦- 
 
 The Author begs to express his acknowledg- 
 ments to the publishers of Our Youth, Youth's 
 Companion, Harper's Young People, Golden Days, 
 and other periodicals, in whose pages many of 
 these stories and sketches were first published. 
 
 J. M. o. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE, 
 
 A BLESSING IN STERN DISGl ISE. 
 
 IN PFUIL AT BLACK RUN, 
 
 ' ••■• •••• ., 
 
 TOUCH AND GO, .... 
 THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF, 
 
 ' **" •••• •••• ,., 
 
 TOBOGGANING, 
 
 A MIC-MAC CINDERELLA, 
 
 BLUE-NOSE FISHER FOLK, 
 
 LOST ON THE LIMITS, 
 
 A STRANGE HELPER, 
 
 FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM, 
 
 THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OP THE COLD, 
 
 FACE TO FACE WITH AN "INDIAN DEVIL," 
 
 IN THE NICK OF TIME, 
 
 SNOW-SHOEING, 
 
 THE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM, 
 
 Harold's lasting impression, 
 
 HOW wilberforce brennan visited white bear castle, 
 
 outside the boom, 
 
 9 
 24 
 
 35 
 43 
 53 
 68 
 7(5 
 85 
 03 
 108 
 117 
 127 
 143 
 150 
 158 
 1G9 
 180 
 187 
 1!)8 
 
Vlll 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 FOUND AFTKR .VAXY DAYS, 
 
 MRS. GKUXDY's CiOJiBLKUS, 
 
 ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE .SNOW-IUDGE. 
 
 TIIliOUGlI THE TRACKLESS FOREST, 
 
 WRECKS AND WRECKERS OF ANTICOSTI, 
 
 A LUMBER CAMP, .... 
 
 LACROSSE, 
 
 A PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES, 
 
 LOST ON LAKE ST. LOUIS, 
 
 ICE-SKATING IN CANADA, 
 
 THE WILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA, 
 
 BIRDS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND, 
 
 THE BORE OF MINAS BASIN, .... 
 
 THE GAME OF RINK HOCKEY, 
 
 ON THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS, 
 
 THEO'S TOBOGGANING TRIUMPH, 
 
 208 
 219 
 233 
 241 
 . 260 
 260 
 270 
 278 
 290 
 301 
 312 
 321 
 329 
 340 
 348 
 359 
 
 (; ! 
 
 ! 
 

 ,^^4^®¥ 
 
 
 MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 -■'>>.*j^^i«^-«— - 
 
 A SHOUT of laughter rang tlirough the kitchen and 
 went echoing up the great chimney when, much 
 more in fun than in earnest, I hinted that if they could 
 not manage to kill the bear themselves I would have to 
 do it for them. 
 
 Now it was no new thing for me to he laughed at. My 
 big brothers were only too fond of that amusement, and I 
 had got pretty well used to it ; but this time I detected a 
 particularly derisive tone in theii* hilarity, which touched 
 me to the quick, and springing to my feet, with eyes flash- 
 ing and cheeks burning, I burst out hotly, — 
 
 " I don't care how much you laugh. As sure as I'm 
 standing here, I'll put a bullet in that bear before this time 
 to-morrow night ! " 
 
 At this they only laughed the louder, and filled the 
 room with sarcastic shouts of, — 
 
 " Hurrah for the Bantam ! "— " I'll bet on the bear " — 
 " What will you take for his skin, Bantam i " until father 
 
to 
 
 MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 , M 
 
 ij 
 
 1 
 
 silenced them with one of his reproving looks, and drew 
 me to him, saying soothingly, — 
 
 " Don't mind the boys, Walter ; and don't let your tem- 
 per betray you into making rash vows that you cannot 
 keep." 
 
 I sat down in the sulks, and soon after skipped off to 
 bed ; but it was a long time before I got to sleep, for my 
 brain was in a whirl, and my blood coursing through my 
 veins like fire. 
 
 I was the youngest in a family of six sturdy boys, and 
 consequently came in for much more than a fair share, as 
 I thought, of good-natured ridicule from my big brothers. 
 
 They were all fond enough of me, and generally very 
 kind to me too ; but they had a notion, and perhaps not 
 altogether a mistaken one, that I was inclined to think too 
 much of myself, and they took great pleasure in putting 
 ine down, as they were pleased to call it. 
 
 Of course I did my best not to be put down, and 
 they had nicknamed me " the Bantam," as a sort of left- 
 handed compliment to my fiery opposition against being 
 put down. 
 
 I was rather small for my age, and they could easily 
 beat me in nearly all the trials of skill and strength 
 country boys delighted in — not quite all, however, for, 
 much to my pride and satisfaction, I could hit the bull's- 
 eye chalked out on the big barn-door twice as often as the 
 best of them ; and no small comfort did my skill in shoot- 
 ing give me. 
 
 But this far from contented me, and in my foolish 
 
! f . ^ I— i^va m v m *»M i' i«j 9 ! ^ m ' !r ' . 
 
 MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 II 
 
 feverish haste to get on a level with those big fellows, I 
 was constantly attempting all sort of reckless, daring feats, 
 that called forth my father's grave reproof and my mother's 
 loving entreaties. 
 
 Time and again would father say to me, — 
 
 " Walter, your ra^shness will be the death of you some 
 day. Don't be in such a hurry to be a man before you've 
 quit being a boy ! " 
 
 But reproof and entreaty alike went unheeded ; and 
 that night, as I tossed restlessly about in bed, I made sol- 
 emn vows to the stars peeping in through the window that 
 next morning I would take Tiger and go off alone after 
 the huge black bear which had been prowling around the 
 sheepfold lately, and which father and the boys had 
 twice hunted in vain. 
 
 Soothed by the prospect of the glory success would 
 bring me, I fell asleep, and dreamed that, armed only with 
 my jack-knife, I was chasing hard after the bear, which 
 seemed half as big as the barn, yet ran away in the most 
 flattering fashion. 
 
 Next morning all my temper had vanished, and so much 
 of my valour had vanished with it that my bear-hunting 
 would never have probably got beyond dreamland had not 
 Jack, the moment I appeared, called out mockingly, — 
 
 " Behold the mighty hunter ! Make way for Bantam, 
 the renowned bear-slayer." 
 
 The chorus of laughter that greeted this sally set me in 
 a blaze again ; but this time I held my tongue, and the 
 teasing soon stopped. 
 
12 
 
 MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 The mischief was done, however; I felt as though I 
 would rather die than go back on my word now. Never 
 before in my life had I been stirred so deeply. 
 
 Determined to keep my purpose secret, I waited about 
 the house until all the others had gone off. Then, quietly 
 taking down my gun, I put half-a-dozen biscuits in my 
 pocket, and, with well-filled powder-flask and bullet-pouch, 
 slipped off unobserved towards the forest. Tiger following 
 close at my heels. - 
 
 Tiger was my own dog — a present from a city uncle 
 after whom I had been named. He was half fox-hound, 
 half bull-terrier, and seemed to combine the best qualities 
 of both breeds, so that for sense, strength, and courage, his 
 superior could not be found of his size. My affection for 
 him was surpassed only by his devotion to me. He ac- 
 knowledged no other master, and fairly lived in the light 
 of my countenance. i 
 
 This morning he evidently caught from my face some 
 inkling of the serious nature of our business, for instead 
 of bounding and barking about me in his wonted way he 
 trotted gravely along at my side, every now and then 
 looking up into my face, as though about to say, " Here 
 I am, ready for anything ! " And where could I have 
 found a trustier ally ? 
 
 It was a glorious day in December. A week of intense 
 cold had been succeeded by a few days of milder weather, 
 and over all the trees the frost had thrown a fairy garb of 
 white that sparkled brightly in the morning 'un. The 
 air was just cold enough to be bracing. The spotless snow 
 
MV VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 n 
 
 light 
 
 crunched crisply under my feet as I walked rapidly over 
 it, and my spirits rose with every step. 
 
 Soon I had climbed the hill pasture, and with one look 
 backward at my dear old home, nestling among its beeches 
 and poplars in the plain below, I plunged into the dense 
 undergrowth that bordered the vast Canadian forest, which 
 stretched away inland for many a mile. 
 
 The snow lay pretty deep in the woods, but my snow- 
 shoes made the walking easy. Everywhere across the 
 white surface ran the interlacing tracks of rabbits and 
 red foxes, with here and there the broader, deeper print 
 of the wild cat ; for it had been a long, hard winter, and 
 the wild animals, desperate with hunger, were drawing 
 uncomfortably close to the settled districts. 
 
 As I pushed on into the lonely, silent forest, its shadows 
 began to cool my ardour, and the inclination to turn back 
 strengthened every moment, so that my pride had hard 
 work to keep my courage up to the mark. 
 
 Presently I came to an open glade, almost circular, and 
 about fifty yards across, walled in on all sides by tall, dark 
 pines and sombre hemlocks. 
 
 It was so pleasant to be in full view of the sun again, 
 that I halted on the verge of this glade to rest a little, 
 leaning against a huge pine, and letting the sunshine pour 
 down upon me, although my long walk had started the 
 perspiration from every pore. 
 
 Tiger, who had been carefully scrutinizing every paw- 
 print, but following up none, as he saw I evidently was 
 not after small game that day, now bounded off along the 
 
WW 
 i 
 
 u 
 
 MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 edge of the forest, and I watched him proudly as, with 
 nose close to the snow and tail high in the air, he ran 
 hither and thither, the very picture of canine beauty and 
 intelligence. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped short, snufFed fiercely at a track 
 in the snow, and then, with sharp, eager barks that sounded 
 like a succession of pistol-shots, and startled every nerve 
 and fibre in my body into intense excitement, sprang over 
 the snov/ with mad haste, until he brought up at the foot 
 of a tree just opposite me on the other side of the glade. 
 
 For some moments I stood as if spe] -bound. I felt that 
 nothing less than a bear- trail could have put Tiger in such 
 a quiver. Perhaps he had struck the track of the bear, 
 about whose immense size father and the boys had talked 
 so much. 
 
 I confess that at the thought my knees trembled, my 
 tongue parched as though with hot thirst, and I stood 
 there utterly irresolute, until all at once, like a great wave, 
 my courage came back to me, the hunter instinct rose 
 supreme over human weakness, and grasping my gun 
 tightly, I hurried across to where the dog was still bark- 
 ing furiously. 
 
 A bare, blasted tree-trunk stood out gar t and gray, in 
 marked contrast to the dark masses of the pine and hem- 
 lock around. It was plainly the ruin of a magnificent 
 pine, which once had towered high above its fellows, and 
 then paid the penalty of its pre-eminence by being first 
 selected as a target for the lightning. 
 
 Only some twenty feet of its former grandeur remained. 
 
MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 IS 
 
 and this poor, decapitated stub was evidently hollow and 
 rotten to the roots, for deeply scored upon its barkless 
 sides were the signs of its being nothing more or less 
 than a bear's den — the admirably chosen hiding-place of 
 some sagacious Bruin. 
 
 My gun was loaded with an extra charge of powder 
 and two good bullets. I put on a fresh cap, made sure 
 everything was in good order, and took my stand a few 
 yards off from the tree to await the result of Tiger's 
 audacious challenge. 
 
 Minute after minute crept slowly by, but not a sound 
 came from the tree. The tension of nerve was extreme. 
 
 At length I could stand it no longer. If the bear was 
 really inside the tree-trunk, I must know it immediately. 
 
 Looking up, I noticed that an adjoining hemlock sent 
 out a long arm right over the hollow trunk, while a 
 little above was another branch by which I could steady 
 myself. 
 
 Taking off my snow-shoes, and laying my gun at the 
 hemlock's foot, I climbed quickly up, Tiger for a time 
 suspending his barking in order to look inquiringly 
 after me. 
 
 Reaching the branch, which seemed strong enough for 
 anything, I walked out on it carefully, balancing myself 
 by the one above, my moccasined feet giving me a good 
 foothold, until I was right over the deep, mysterious 
 cavity. 
 
 I peered eagerly in, but of course saw nothing save 
 darkness as of Egypt, and, half laughing at my own folly, 
 
-r-p 
 
 i6 
 
 MV VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 had turned to retrace my steps, when suddenly, without 
 the slightest warning, the bough on which I stood snapped 
 short off a few feet from the trunk. 
 
 For one harrowing instant I clung to the slender branch 
 above, and then, it slipping swiftly through my fingers, 
 with a wild shriek of terror I plunged feet foremost into 
 the awful abyss beneath, 
 
 Just grazing the rim of the tree's open mouth, I fell 
 sheer to the bottom, bringing up with such a shock that 
 the fright and fall combined rendered me insensible. 
 
 How long I lay there I cannot say. When I did come 
 to myself, my first impulse was to stand up. And words 
 cannot express my relief when I found that, although much 
 shaken up, no bones were broken, thanks to the accumula- 
 tion of rotten wood at the bottom of this strange well. 
 
 But oh, what a fearful situation was mine, and how 
 bitteily I reproached myself for my folly ! Shut up in 
 the heart of that hollow tree ; four long miles from home 
 and help ; utterly unable to extricate myself, for the soft 
 decayed sides of my prison forbade all attempts at ascent ; 
 only a few biscuits in my pocket ; not a drop of water, 
 and already I was suffering with thirst ; and, to crown all, 
 the possibility, ay, the certainty, of the bear returning in 
 a few hours, while I had no other weapon of defence than 
 the hunter's knife which hung at my belt. 
 
 Although it was mid-day now, intense darkness filled 
 my prison cell, and the air was close and foul, for Bruin 
 had evidently been tenant of the place all winter. 
 
 For some time I could do nothing but gaze at the little 
 
 (904) 
 
MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 17 
 
 patch of blue sky above me that seemed so hopelessly far 
 away, as if rescue must soon come from tlience. I could 
 faintly hear poor Tiger's barking still, and fearing he 
 might go off in search of me, I kicked and pounded against 
 the sides of the tree, shouting at the top of my voice. 
 
 I don't know whether he could hear me, but he did not 
 go away at all events. It would have been far better for 
 him, poor fellow, if he had. 
 
 After some minutes the first bewildering paroxysm of 
 fright abated, and I set myself seriously to consider what 
 was to be done. I could not give up all hope of escape, 
 desperate as my case seemed, and I felt sure I would lose 
 my mind if I did not keep myself constantly employed 
 in some way. 
 
 There seemed but one thing to do, and to that I forth- 
 with applied myself. In my belt hung my strong, keen- 
 edged hunting-knife. Since I could not climb out of my 
 prison, perhaps I could cut my way out. So drawing the 
 knife, I set to work with tremendous vigour. 
 
 At first it was easy enough, for the soft decayed wood 
 offered little opposition to my keen blade, and I felt 
 encouraged. But presently I reached the hard rind, and 
 then had to go warily for fear of snapping the steel off 
 short. 
 
 The close confinement, the heavy, poisonous air, and 
 the constrained position the work required, all told hard 
 upon me; but I toiled away with the determination of 
 despair. 
 
 I must have spent at least an hour thus, when, to my 
 
 (i)04) 2 
 
t8 
 
 MV VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 (leli<j:lit, a Imrd blow sent the knife-blade clean through 
 the wood, an<l on dmwinfj it back a blessed little bit of 
 daylight peeped through, which made a new man of me. 
 
 At it I went again, and paused not this time until I 
 had a jagged hole chipped out through which I could put 
 my hand. If the bear did not come for a couple of hours 
 more I Would be free. 
 
 The moment I put out my hand Tiger caught sight of 
 it, and came leaping up against the tree, wild with delight 
 at finding me again, for now of course I could easily make 
 him hear my voice. 
 
 A few minutes' rest and the breathing of the pure, fresh 
 air that streamed in through the opening, and chip, chip, 
 chip, I cut away at the hard wood until a hole as big as 
 my face was made. 
 
 Another brief rest, for I was getting very tired, when — 
 ah, what is the matter ? Why is Tiger barking so madly? 
 Can it be that the bear is returning ? Yes, there he comes ! 
 
 He was half-way across the glade already, and Tiger, 
 trembling with rage, was right below me at the root of 
 the tree, ready to defend me to the death. 
 
 Growling fiercely, the huge brute shambled rapidly 
 toward us. Another minute, and Tiger the dauntless 
 sprang at his throat. 
 
 But the bear was too quick for him, and with one sweep 
 of his great fore-paw sent his puny opponent rolling over 
 on the snow. 
 
 Little hurt, and much wiser for this rebuff, the dog 
 attacked from behind, and bit so sharp and quick that 
 
 ^1 
 
through 
 Q bit of 
 t* me. 
 until I 
 uld put 
 3f hours 
 
 sight of 
 
 deliglit 
 
 ly make 
 
 re, fresh 
 ip, chip, 
 
 IS big as 
 
 when — 
 madly ? 
 comes ! 
 Tiger, 
 root of 
 
 rapidly 
 auntless 
 
 e sweep 
 [ig over 
 
 ;he dog 
 jk that 
 
 i 
 
 IN A FEW SECONDS WE WEHE AT TUE TOl'." 
 
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MV VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 SI 
 
 Bruin in self-defence, reared iip on his hind legs, ready to 
 wheel round and drop on the dog at the first opportunity. 
 
 For minutes (which seemed hours) the unequal contest 
 went on before my straining eyes. More than once the 
 bear, in sheer disgust at his inability to crush his agile 
 adversary, attempted to climb the tree, and my heart 
 seemed to stand still as his claws rattled against the wood. 
 But the instant he turned his back Tiger had his sharp 
 f,. ' •> deep into his hams, and with a fierce snarl down he 
 dropped to renew the conflict. 
 
 The afternoon shades were lengthening now, and a new 
 hope dawned within me. My mother had ere this grown 
 anxious at my long absence from home, and perhaps my 
 father and brothers were even then tracing me through 
 the forest by my snow-shoe track. They would hear 
 Tiger's furious yelps if they were anywhere within a mile 
 of us. If my noble dog could hold out long enough we 
 should both be saved. 
 
 Full of this hope I cheered him vigorously, and seeming 
 to be as tireless as fearless, the little hero kept up the 
 fight. They were both before me now in full view, and I 
 could watch every movement. The scene would have been 
 ludicrous if my life had not hung upon its issue — the 
 bear was so clumsy and awkward, the dog so quick and 
 clever. 
 
 As it was, I almost forgot my anxiety in my excitement, 
 when, with a thrill of horror, I saw that Tiger's sharp 
 teeth had caught in the bear's shaggy fur, and he could 
 not free liimself. The bear wheeled swiftly round upon 
 
mm 
 
 ! ; ; 
 
 tl,. 
 
 22 
 
 MV VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 him. One instant more, and the huge, pitiless jaws had 
 him in their grasp at last. 
 
 There was an awful moment of silence, then a quick 
 half-smothered cry, a harsh exultant roar, and out of that 
 fatal embrace my brave, faithful dog dropped to the 
 ground, a limp, lifeless mass. 
 
 I could think of nothing but my dog at first ; and in 
 frantic, futile raoje I beat against the obdurate walls of mv 
 prison, while the bear sniffed curiously at his victim, turned 
 him about with his great paws, and seemed to be exulting 
 over the brave spirit he had conquered. But wdien, having 
 satisfied his pride, the brute turned to climb the tree, all 
 my thoughts centred upon myself, for I felt that my hour 
 had come. I could ff 1 his claws scraping against the 
 outside as, wearied with his exertion, he climbed slowly up. 
 There was nothing for me but to wait his coming, and 
 then sell my life as dearly as possible. 
 
 Firmly grasping my knife, whose keenness had, alas, 
 been spent upon the tough wood, and feeling as though 
 the bitterness of death were already past, I stood await- 
 ing ray fate. Watching closely the narrow opening at the 
 top, I noticed that the bear was descending tail foremost. 
 Foot by foot he came slowly down, striking his long, sharp 
 claws deep into the spongy wood, his huge bulk com- 
 pletely filling the passage. 
 
 Not a movement or a 80und did I make. All at once, 
 as if by inspiration — was it in answer to my poor prayer ? 
 — an idea flashed into my brain, at which I grasped as a 
 drowning man might grasp at a straw. 
 
4 
 -1 
 
 Lws had 
 
 a quick 
 of that 
 to the 
 
 and in 
 s of mv 
 I, turned 
 exulting 
 , having 
 tree, all 
 nv hour 
 !nst the 
 )wly up. 
 ng, and 
 
 id, alas, 
 though 
 await- 
 at the 
 )reniost. 
 ^, sharp 
 c com- 
 
 it once, 
 )rayer ? 
 ed as a 
 
 MY VERY STRANGE RESCUE. 
 
 23 
 
 The bear was now close at my head. I waited until 
 he had descended one step more, then reaching up both 
 hands, and taking a firm grip of his soft, yielding fur, I 
 shouted at the top of my voice. 
 
 For one harrowing moment the bear paused, as though 
 paralyzed. Heaven help me if he drops, I thought. Then, 
 with a wild spring, he started upward, dragging me after 
 him. Putting forth all his vast strength he scrambled 
 with incredible speed straight up that hollow shaft, I hold- 
 ing on like grim death, and giving all the help I could. 
 
 In a few seconds we were at the top, and with a joy 
 beyond all describing I emerged into daylight. No sooner 
 did the bear reach the rim than he swung himself over, 
 and plunged headlong downwards without an instant's 
 pause. At that moment I let go, and tried to make the 
 descent more slowly ; but the reaction was too great. My 
 senses deserted me, and I tumbled in a heap at the foot 
 of the tree. In that condition my father found me just 
 before sunset ; and although the deep snow had rendered 
 my fall harmless, the strain and shock told so lieavily upon 
 nie that many weeks passed before I was myself again, 
 and I am not likely to ever forget the very strange way 
 in which I was rescued by a bear. 
 
 i 
 
 'HI 
 
 i 
 
 
 m 
 
^li It :!| 
 
 A BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE. 
 
 — s»t.j>^^«^Mr— 
 
 iii 
 
 BRUXO PERRY'S home was in cabout as lonely and 
 unattractive a spot as one could well imagino ; an 
 unpleasant fact, the force of which nobody felt more 
 keenly than did Bruno himself, for he was of a very 
 sociable disposition and delighted in companionship. But, 
 besides his father and mother, companions he had none, 
 except his half-bred collie, Steeltrap, who had been given 
 that name because of his sharpness, and who recognized no 
 other master than Bruno, to whom he M'as unflaggingly 
 devoted. 
 
 To find the Perry house was no easy task, for it lay 
 away off from the main road on a little road of its own 
 that was hardly better than a wood-path. Donald Perry 
 was a very strange man. He was moody and taciturn by 
 nature, and much given to brooding over real or fancied 
 wrongs. Some years ago he had owned a line farm not 
 far from Riverton, but owing to a succession of disputes 
 with his neighbours, about boundary-lines and other matters, 
 he had in a tit of anger disposed of his farm and banished 
 himself and his family to the wilderness, where he had 
 
ely and 
 ino ; an 
 t more 
 a very 
 ). But, 
 d none, 
 given 
 lized no 
 ingly 
 
 (TO' 
 
 DO 
 
 it lay 
 its own 
 
 Perry 
 arn by 
 fancied 
 in not 
 isputes 
 latters, 
 inished 
 le had 
 
 A BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE. 
 
 25 
 
 purchased for a mere trifle the abandoned clearing of a 
 timber-jobber. 
 
 Poor little Bruno, at that time only ten years old, cried 
 bitterly as they turned their backs upon the pleasant home 
 which he had come to love so dearly, and his mother joined 
 her tears witli his. But his father was not to be moved 
 from his purpose. He had not much faith in or sympathy 
 for other people's feelings, or " notions," as he contemptu- 
 ously called them. The only notice he took of his wife 
 and son in the matter was to gruffly bid them " stop 
 blubbering ; " and they both knew him too well not to do 
 their best to obey. 
 
 That was full five years ago, and in all this time neither 
 Bruno nor his mother had had any other society than their 
 own, except an occasional deer-hunter or wood-ranger who 
 might beg the favour of a night's lodging if he happened 
 to find the farm-house after sundown. 
 
 " Oh, mother, are we always to live in this dreadful 
 place ? " exclaimed Bruno one day, when he knew his 
 father to be well vjut of hearing. " I'm sure I'll go clean 
 crazv if I don't eet out of it soon. Father will have it 
 that I must learn to run the farm, so as to take hold when 
 he gives up. But I'll never be a backwoods farmer ; I'd 
 rather die first 
 
 I '» 
 
 " Hush, hush, my boy," said ]\Irs. Perry, in gentle reproof. 
 
 'You must not talk that way. You don't mean what you say." 
 
 " Yes, I do, mother — mean every word of it," replied 
 
 Bruno vehemently, 
 go with his consent.' 
 
 I'll run away if father won't let me 
 
 ; 
 
 m 
 ill 
 
 i 
 
 li 
 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
26 
 
 A BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE, 
 
 ill 
 
 ■M 
 
 Milili 
 
 1 1 
 
 (It ; 
 
 \ 1 
 
 ! \ 
 
 " And what would mother do without the light of her 
 life ? " asked Mrs. Perry tenderly, taking her son's curly 
 head in both her hands and giving him a fond kiss on the 
 forehead. 
 
 Bruno was silent for a moment, and then exclaimed 
 petulantly, — 
 
 " Why couldn't you come too, mother ? " 
 
 " Ah, no, boy," was the gentle response. " I will never 
 leave my husband, even though my boy should leave me. 
 But be patient yet a little while ; be patient, Bruno. I 
 don't think God intended you for a backwoods farmer, and 
 if we only wait he wdll no doubt open a way for you 
 somehow or other." 
 
 " Waiting's precious poor fun, mother," replied Bruno 
 ruefully, yet in a tone that re-assured his mother, who, 
 indeed, was always dreading lest her son's longing for the 
 stir and bustle of city life should lead him to run away 
 from the farm he so cordially disliked, leaving her to bear 
 the double burden of unshared troubles and anxiety for 
 her darling's welfare. 
 
 Bruno Perry was not a common country boy, rough, 
 rude, and uncultivated. His mother had enjoyed a good 
 education in her youth, and possessed besides a refined, 
 gentle spirit that fitted her far better for the cultured life 
 of the city than the rough-and-tumble existence to which 
 the eccentricity of her husband had doomed her. Bruno 
 had inherited much of her fine spirit, together with no 
 small share of his father's deep, strong nature ; and, thanks 
 to his mother's faithful teaching: and the wise use of the 
 
A BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE. 
 
 27 
 
 t 
 
 
 few books they had brought with them into the waklemcss, 
 was a fairly well educated lad. Every Saturday his father 
 drove all alone to the nearest settlement and brought back 
 with him a newspaper, which Bruno awaited with hungry 
 eyes and eagerly devoured w'hen at last it fell into his 
 hands. By this means he knew a little, at all events, of 
 the great world beyond the forest, and this knowledge 
 maintained at fever-heat his desire to be in the midst of 
 it. Only his deep affection for his mother kept him at 
 home. 
 
 The summer just past had been an especially restless, 
 imeasy time for Bruno. His blood seemed fairly on fire 
 with impatience at his lot, and even the cool dark days of 
 autumn brought no chill to his ardour. If anj'thing, they 
 made the matter worse ; for the summer, wdth its bright 
 sunny mornings, its delicious afternoon baths in the clear 
 deep pool beyond the barn, and its long serene evenings, 
 was not so hard to bear, even in the wilderness. Neither 
 was the autumn, with its nutting forays, its partridge and 
 woodcock shooting, and its fruit and berry expeditions, by 
 any means intolerable. But the winter — the long, dreary, 
 monotonous Canadian winter, when for week after week 
 the mercury sank dowm below zero and rarely rose above 
 it, when the cattle had to be fed and watered thouoh the 
 liands stiffened and the feet stung with bitter biting cold, 
 wliile ears and cheek and nose were constantly being 
 nipped by pitiless Jack Frost ! — well, the long and short of 
 it was that one night after Mr. Perry had gone off" grimly 
 to bed, looking much as if he were going to his tomb, 
 
 ! 
 
 V^ i 
 
 
 '« 
 
 t 
 ' 1 
 
1 
 
 • 
 
 m 
 
 .1; 
 ! ' 
 
 
 'i!! f 
 
 ii^i'l ii 
 
 llli'' 
 
 28 
 
 ^ BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE. 
 
 leaving his wife and son sitting beside the big wood fire 
 in the kitchen, Bruno drew his chair close to Mrs. Perry's, 
 and, slipping his hand into hers, looked up into her sweet 
 face with a determined expression she had never observed 
 in him before. 
 
 " Mother," said Bruno, in low, earnest tones, " it's no use. 
 This is the last winter I shall ever spend in this place. I 
 can't and won't stand it any longer. Father may say 
 what he likes, but he'll never make a farmer of me." 
 
 " What will you do, Bruno dear ? " asked his mother 
 gently, seeing clearly enough that it was no time for 
 argument or opposition. 
 
 " Why, I'll go right into town and do something. I 
 don't care what it is, so long as it's honest and it brings 
 me bread and butter. I'd rather be a bootblack in town 
 than stay out in this hateful place." 
 
 " But you hope to be something better than a bootblack, 
 don't you, dearest ? " questioned Mrs. Perry, with a sad 
 smile, for she felt that the crisis in her boy's life had come, 
 and that his whole future might depend upon the way she 
 dealt with him now. 
 
 " Of course I do, mother," he answered, smiling in his 
 turn. " But that will be better than nothing for a begin- 
 ning, and something better will turn up after a while." 
 
 " Very well, Bruno, so be it. Of course it's no use 
 beginning business as a bootblack in winter-time, when 
 everybody is wearing overshoes. But when the spring 
 mud comes then will be your chance, and perhaps before 
 spring-time a better opening may present itself." 
 
A BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE. 
 
 2q 
 
 Bruno felt the force of his mother's clever reasoning, 
 and with a quiet laugh replied, — 
 
 " All right, mother ; I'll wait until spring as patiently 
 as I can." 
 
 The afternoon following this conversation Bruno thought 
 he would go into the forest and see if he could not get a 
 shot at something, he hardly knew what. The snow lay 
 deep upon the ground, so he strapped on his snow-shoes, 
 and, with gun on shoulder and hatchet at belt, strode off 
 into the woods. He was in rather an unhappy frame of 
 mind, and hoped that a good long walk and the excitement 
 of hunting would do him good. His father's clearing was 
 not very large, and beyond its edge the great forest 
 stretched away unbroken for uncounted leagues. Close at 
 Bruno's heels ran the faithful Steeltrap, full of joy at the 
 prospect of an afternoon's outing. The air was very cold, 
 but not a breath of wind broke its stillness, and the only 
 interruptions of the perfect silence were the crushing of 
 tlie crisp snow beneath Bruno's broad shoes and the oc- 
 casional impatient barks of his canine companion. 
 
 Climbing the hill that rose half a mile to the north from 
 his home, Bruno descended the other side, crossed the inter- 
 vening valley, where a brook ran gurgling underneath its 
 icy covering, and ascended the ridge beyond, pushing further 
 and further into the forest until he had o'one several miles 
 from the house. Then he halted and sat down upon a log 
 for a rest. He had not been there many minutes before a 
 sudden stir on the part of Steeltrap attracted his attention, 
 and, looking up, he caught sight of a fine black fox gazing 
 
 - 1 ■;»; ' 
 
30 
 
 ./ BLESSING IN STERN DISGCISE. 
 
 i ; 
 
 1 j : 
 
 ■ I 
 
 ' 1 '' 
 
 1 j '! 
 
 i •■ r 
 
 ^ if a 
 
 at him curiously for an instant ere it bounded aw}\.y. As 
 quick as a flash Bruno threw liis gun to his shoulder, fired 
 almost without taking- aim, and to his vast dcliuht the shot 
 evidently took effect, for the fox, after one spasmodic leap 
 into the air, went limping off, dragging a hind leg in a way 
 that told clearly enough it was broken. 
 
 " After him, Steeltrap, after him ! " shouted Bruno. 
 
 The dog needed no urging on. With eager bark he 
 dashed after the wounded fox, Bruno following as fast as 
 he could. Away went the three of them at the top of 
 their speed, the boy just able to keep his quany in s .t, 
 while Steeltrap was doing his best to get a good g: \^. of 
 his hindquarters so as to bring him to the ground. In 
 this fashion they must have gone a good half mile when 
 they came to a bear-trap, into which the fox vanished like 
 a shadow, while Steeltrap, afraid to follow, contented him- 
 self with staying outside and barking vigorously. 
 
 On Bruno coming up he hardly knew what to do at first. 
 Telling Steeltrap to watch the door, he examined the trap 
 all round, and satisfied himself that there was no other way 
 for the fox to get out. Then he made up his mind how 
 to act. 
 
 " Ha, ha, my black beauty ! You're not going to get 
 off so easily as that," he said. And, kneeling down, he 
 slipped off his snow-shoes and stood in his moccasined feet. 
 Then, leaning his gun against the wall of the trap (which, 
 I might explain, is built like a tiny log hut, having a heavy 
 log suspended from the roof in such a way that on a bear 
 attempting to enter it falls upon his back and makes him 
 
A BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE. 
 
 31 
 
 a prisoner). Bruno took his hatchet from his belt and 
 procoedod to crawl into the ti-ap, carefully avoiding the 
 central stick which held up the loose log. It was very 
 dark, hut he could see the bright eyes of the fox as it 
 crouched in the far corner. Holding his hatchet ready for 
 a blow he approached the fox, and was just about to strike 
 wben, with a sudden desperate dart, it sprang past him 
 
 IjKUNO struck with all his mkiht at his i.eh. 
 
 toward the door. With an exclamation of anger Bruno 
 turned to follow it, and in his hasty movement brushed 
 against the supporting-post. 
 
 The mischief was done. In an instant the heavy log 
 fell, and, although by a quick dodge to the left Bruno saved 
 his shoulder, the ponderous thing descended upon his thigh, 
 and, rolling down, pinned his right foot to the ground as 
 firndy as if he had been the bear it was intended to capture. 
 
 4. A 
 
 M 
 
 iW 
 
 
 t 
 
 if 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 ■i 
 
St 
 
 A BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE. 
 
 ' [ 
 
 Here, indeed, "was a perilous situation for poor Bruno. 
 Flat upon his back, with a huge log across his ankle, what 
 was he to do ? Sitting up he st'^ove witli all his might to 
 push the log off, but he might as well have tried to move 
 a mountain. He was fastened down beyond all hope of 
 release without outside help. 
 
 But what hope was there of outside help ? No one 
 knew where he was, for he had not said anytliing to his 
 mother when setting out, and his father had gone up the 
 road some miles and would not return until dark. The 
 one chance was that his father, on returning home, would 
 miss him, and perhaps come in search of him, folio ,ving 
 the track made by his snow-shoes. But, even if he did, 
 that could not be for hours yet, and in the meantime he 
 would freeze to death ; for the cold was intense, the ther- 
 mometer being many degrees below zero. 
 
 An hour passed, an hour of pain and fruitless conjecture 
 as to the possibility of rescue. As the evening drew near 
 Bruno became desperate. He gave up all hope of his 
 father reaching him in time, and came to the conclusion 
 that he must either free himself or die ; and he saw but one 
 way of getting free. The log lay across his leg just above 
 the ankle. His hatchet was near him. To chop the log 
 away was utterly impossible, but it would be an easy thing 
 to chop off" the foot that it held so fast. Grasping the 
 hatchet firmly in his right hand, Bruno hesitated for a 
 moment, and then struck with all his might at his leg. A 
 pang of awful agony shot through him, numbed as his 
 nerves were with the cold. But, setting his teeth in grim 
 
A nLESSrXG IN STERN DISGUISE. 
 
 33 
 
 detevinination, ho struck blow after blow, heeding not the 
 terrilile sufieiing, until at length the bone snapped and 
 Bruno was free. 
 
 Well-nigh fainting with pain and weakness, the poor boy, 
 on hands and knees, began the long and terrible journey 
 homeward. His sufferings were beyond description; but 
 life was very precious, and so long as he retained conscious- 
 ness he would not give up the struggle. 
 
 Fortunately for him he had not gone more than a hun- 
 dred yards over the cold hard snow before a bark from 
 Steeltrap announced somebody's approach, and, just as 
 Bruno fainted dead away, an Indian trapper, who, by the 
 merest chance, had come to see if the trap had taken any- 
 thing, came striding through the forest already dusky with 
 the shadows of night. With a grunt of surprise he ap- 
 proached Bruno, turned him over gently, while Steeltrap 
 sniffed doubtfully at his leggings ; and then, recognizing the 
 boy's face, and not waiting to investigate into the causes 
 of his injury, he bound his sash about the bleeding stiunp, 
 and throwing the senseless form ov^er his broad shoulders, 
 set out for the Perry house as fast as he could travel. 
 
 Not sparing himself the utmost exertion, he arrived 
 there just as night closed in, and, pushing into the kitchen, 
 deposited his burden upon the table, saying to Mrs. Perry, 
 who came forward with frightened face, — 
 
 " Your boy, eh ? Me find him 'most dead. Took him 
 up right away, eh ? " 
 
 When ]\Ir. Perry returned, and beheld his son's pitiful 
 and perilous condition, for once in his life he seemed moved. 
 
 iv) 
 
 % 
 
 f , 
 
 
 .1 
 
 li 
 
 ■ ■'" \ 1 
 
 !l 
 
34 
 
 A BLESSING IN STERN DISGUISE. 
 
 i I 
 
 )^^^ ! 
 
 " 1 must tako liini in to tlio hospital in tlu; city tlie first 
 tiling in the morning," said ho. " IFo'll die if wo keep him 
 here." 
 
 And so it came about that, watched over by his parents, 
 Bruno was next day carefully driven to the city, where by 
 evening ho was snugly ensconced in a comfortable cot in 
 the big bright ward of the hospital. 
 
 He got well again, of course. So sturdy a lad was not 
 going to succumb even to such injuries as he had suffered. 
 But his foot was gone, and there was no replacing that. 
 And yet in time he learned to look upon that lost foot as 
 a blessing, for throui-h it came the realization of all his 
 desires. A boy with only one foot could not, of course, be 
 a farmer, but he could be a clerk or something of that 
 sort. Accordingly, through the influence of a relative in 
 the city, Bruno, when thoroughly recovered, obtained a 
 position in a lawyer's office as copjnng clerk. Some years 
 later he was able to enter upon the study of the law. In 
 due time he began to practise upon his own account, and 
 with such success that he was ultimately honoured with a 
 seat upon the bench Ji.s judge of the Supreme Court: 
 
 4 
 
 ■ 'i 
 
IN PERIL AT BLACK RUN. 
 
 THERE wore four of them — Hiio-h, the eldest, tall, 
 dark, and sinewy, bespeaking his Highland descent 
 in every line of face and figure ; Arcliie, tlie second, short 
 and sturdy, fair of hair and blue of eye, the mother's boy, 
 as one could see at a glance ; and then the twins, Jim and 
 Charlie, the joy of the family, so much alike that only 
 their mother could tell them apart without making a 
 mistake — two of the chubbiest, merriest, and sauciest 
 younu'sters in the whole of Nova Scotia. 
 
 Squire Stewart was very proud of his boys ; and looking 
 at them now as they all came up from the shore together, 
 evidently discussing something very earnestly, his coun- 
 tenance glowed with pride and atfection. 
 
 When they drew near he hailed them with a cheery 
 " Hallo, boys ! what are you talking about there ? " 
 
 Archie's face was somewhat clouded as he answered, in 
 quiet, respectful tones, " Hugh and I were talking about 
 going over to Black Run for a day's fishing, and Jim and 
 Charlie want us to take them too." 
 
 " What do you think about it, Hugh ? " asked the 
 squire, turning to his eldest son. • 
 
36 
 
 ly PERIL AT BLACK RUN. 
 
 I 
 
 ; i 
 1 
 
 " Well, it's just this way, sir," answered Hugh. " The 
 little chaps will only be a bother to us, and perhaps get 
 themselves into trouble. We can't watch them and watch 
 our lines at the same time, that's certain." 
 
 " No, we w^on't," pleaded Jim, while Charlie seconded 
 him with eager eyes. " ^^ e'll be so good." 
 
 " Oh, let them come," interposed Archie. " I'll look 
 after them." 
 
 Hugh still seemed inclined to hold back ; but the squire 
 settled the matter by saying, — 
 
 " Take them with you this time, Hugh, and if they 
 prove to be a bother they need not go again until they 
 are old enough to take care of themselves." 
 
 " All right, sir ! We'll take them. — But mind you, 
 youngsters " — turning to the twins — " you must behave 
 just as if you were at church." 
 
 Black Bun was the chief outlet of the lake on which 
 Maplebank, the Stewart house, was situated. Here its 
 superabundance poured out through a long deep channel 
 leading to a tumultuous rapid that foamed fiercely over 
 dangerous rocks before settling down into good behaviour 
 again. The largest and finest fish were sure to be found 
 in or about Black Bun. But then it w'as full six miles 
 away from Maplebank, and an expedition there required 
 a whole day to be done properly, so that the Stewart boys 
 did not get there very often. 
 
 The Saturday to which all four boys were looking 
 eagerly forward proved as fine as heart could wish, and 
 after an early breakfast they started off". Hugh and 
 
 Ai( 
 she 
 tlie 
 in 
 
 I n a 
 
IN PERIL AT BIACK RUN. 
 
 37 
 
 Aichio took the oars, the twins curled up on the stei-n- 
 sheets, where their elder brother could keep his eye 'ipon 
 thein, and away they went at a long steady stroke that 
 in two hours brought them to their destination. 
 
 " Where'll be the best place to anchor, Hugh ? " asked 
 Archie, as he drew in his oars, and prepared to throw 
 over the big stone that was to serve them as a mooring. 
 
 " Out there, I guess," answered Hugh, pointing to a spot 
 about fifty yards above the head of the run, 
 
 " Oh, that's too far away ; w^e won't catch any fish 
 tliere," objected Archie, who was not at all of a cautious 
 temperament. " Let's anchor just off that point." 
 
 Hugh shook his head. " Too close, I'm afraid, Archie. The 
 current's awfully strong, you know, and we'd be sure to drift." 
 
 " Not a bit of it," persisted Archie. " Our anchor '11 
 hold us all riglit." 
 
 But Hugh was not to be persuaded, and so they took up 
 their position where he had indicated. They fished away 
 busily for some time, the two elder boys using rods, and 
 the twins simply hand-lines, until a goodly number of fine 
 iish flapping about the bottom of the boat gave proof of 
 their success. Still, Archie was not content. His heart 
 was set upon fishing right at the mouth of the run, for he 
 had a notion that some extra biu' fellows were to be caught 
 there, and he continued harping upon the subject until at 
 last Hugh gave way. 
 
 " All right, Archie. Do as you please. Here ! I'll 
 take the oars, and you stand on the bow, and let the an- 
 chor go when you're at the spot." 
 
 1 » . 
 
 '!'« 
 
38 
 
 IN PERIL AT BIACK RUN. 
 
 
 \ \ 
 
 Delighted at thus gaining his point, Archie did as he 
 was bidden, and with a few strong strokes Hugh directed 
 the boat toward the run. So soon as they approached 
 she began to feel the intiuence of the current, and Hugh 
 let her drift with it. Archie was so engrossed in picking 
 out the very best place that he did not notice how the 
 boat was gathering speed until Hugh shouted, — • 
 
 " Drop the anchor, Archie ! What are you thinking 
 about?" 
 
 Archie was standing in the bow, balancing the big stone 
 on the gunwale, and the instant Hugh called he tumbled 
 it over. The strong line to which it was attached ran 
 swiftly out as the boat slipped down the run. Then it 
 stopped with a sharp sudden jerk, for the end was reached, 
 and the stone had cauijht fast between the bii'- stones on 
 the bottom. 
 
 When the jerk came, Archie, suspecting nothing, was 
 standing upiight on the bow thwart, and at onco, like a 
 stone from a catapult, he went Hying head-first throngh 
 the air, striking the water with a loud splash, and dis- 
 appearing into its dark embnice. 
 
 Hugh's first impulse was to burst out laughing, for he 
 knew Archie could swim like a seal ; and when, a moment 
 later, his liead appeared above the water, he hailed him 
 gaily : " Well done, Arch ! That was splendid I Come 
 back and try it again, won't you :' " while the twins 
 laughed and crowed over tlieir brother's amusing per- 
 formance. 
 
 Archie was not disposed to take a serious view of the 
 
IN PERIL AT BLACK RUN. 
 
 39 
 
 matter either, and shouted back, " Try it yourself. Come 
 along ; I'll wait for you." 
 
 v._>-V'«l;- 
 
 LIKK A STONE FIIOM A CATAITLT, A]l( II IK NTItircK TIIK WAlKIt WlTIf A I.iiUli SPLASH,' 
 
 When, however, he sought to regain the boat, he found 
 the current too strong for hiui, and despite his utmost exer- 
 
 1 1> 9 ;> 
 

 40 
 
 IN PERIL AT BLACK RUN. 
 
 u 
 
 ! I 
 
 tions, could make little or no headway against it. This 
 would not have been a cause for much alarm, however, 
 had not the banks of the run been lined with a dense 
 growth of huge rushes through which Sainson himself 
 could hardly have effected a passage, while at their edge 
 the water ran deep and swift. Moreover, it still had plenty 
 of the winter chill in it, for the time was mid -spring. 
 
 Beginning to feel a good deal frightened, Archie called 
 out, " You'll have to come and help me, Hugh. I can't 
 get back to you." 
 
 Now unquestionably the proper thing for Hugh to have 
 done was to take up the anchor, and letting the boat drift 
 down to where Archie was, haul him on board. But 
 strange to say, cool, cautious Hugh for once lost his head. 
 His brother's pale, frightened face startled him, and with- 
 out pausing to think, he threw off his coat and boots and 
 leaped into the water, where a few strenuous strokes 
 brought him to his brother's side. 
 
 The twins, in guileless innocence of any danger, thought 
 all this great sport. Here were their two elder brothers 
 having a swim without first taking off their clothes. They 
 had never seen anything quite so funny before. They 
 kneeled upon the stern-sheets, and leaned over the gun- 
 wale, and clapped their hands in childish ecstasy over 
 what seemed to them so intensely diverting. 
 
 But to the two elder brothers it was very far from being 
 diverting. When Hugh reached Archie he found him 
 already half exhausted, and when, grasping him with his 
 left hand, he strove to force him upward against the cur- 
 
IN PERIL AT BLACK RUN. 
 
 41 
 
 rent, ho realized tliat ere long he would bo in the same 
 condition himself. The strenuth of the current was ap- 
 palling. The best that he could do, thus encumbered by 
 Archie, was to keep from slipping downward. To make 
 any headway was utterly impossible. Hoping that there 
 might be, perhaps, a helpful eddy on the other side of the 
 run, lie made his way across, only to find the current no 
 less powerful there. The situation grew more and more 
 serious. The dense rushes defied all efforts to pierce 
 them, and the boys were fain to grasp a handful of the 
 tough stems, and thereby keep themselves from being 
 swept away by the relentless current into the grasp of the 
 fatal rapids, whose roar they could distinctly hear . j a 
 little <listancc below. 
 
 Hugh says that the memory of those harrowing moments 
 Avill never lose its vividness. Blissfully unconscious of 
 their brothers' peril, the twins laughed and chattered in 
 the stern of the boat, their chubby faces beaming upon the 
 two boys struggling desperately for life in the rushing 
 water. Even in the midst of that struggle Hugh was 
 thrilled with anxiety as he looked back at them lest they 
 should lose their balance and topple over into the water, 
 and he shouted earnestly to them, — 
 
 " Take care, Jim ! Take care, Charlie ! " whereat they 
 both nodded their curly heads and laughed again. 
 
 Hugh was now well-nigh exhausted, and sorely divided 
 in his mind as to whether he should stay by his brother 
 and, perhaps, go down to death with him, or, leaving him 
 in his desperate plight, struggle back to the boat, if 
 
 ,11 
 
42 
 
 IN PERIL AT BLACK RUN, 
 
 that were possible, to prevent a like catastrophe to the 
 twins. Poor fellow ! it was a terrible dilemma for a mere 
 lad. 
 
 Happily, however, he was spared the necessity of choos- 
 ing either alternative. Suddenly and swiftly a boat shot 
 out from the northern side of the run's mouth, and in it 
 sat a brawny farmer, whose quick ear caught at once 
 Hugli'y faint though frantic shout for help. 
 
 ' Ho^ n there, my lads; I'll get you in a minute," he 
 shouted back. Sending his boat alongside that of the 
 Stcx\av'^'', hv "irickly fastened his painter to it, and then 
 dropped down the current until he reached the endangered 
 boys. "Just in time, my hearties," said he cheerily. 
 " Now, then, let me give you a hand on board ; " and 
 grasping them one after the other in his mighty arms, ho 
 lifted them over the side into his own boat. 
 
 Neither Hugh nor Archie was any the worse for their 
 wetting, and the twins thought them even more funny- 
 looking in their wet, bedraggled condition than they were 
 in the water ; but neither of them is nevertheless at all 
 likely to forget, live as long as they may, the time they 
 were in such peril at Black Run. 
 
TOUCH AND GO. 
 
 ALL the oldest inhabitants of Halifax were of one mind 
 as to its being the very coldest winter in their 
 recollection. It really seemed as if some rash fellow had 
 challenged Jack Frost to do his best (or worst) in the 
 matter of cold, and Jack had accepted the challenge, with 
 the result of making the poor Haligonians wish with all 
 tlieir hearts that they were inhabitants of Central Africa 
 instead of the Atlantic coast of British America. 
 
 One reason why they felt the cold so keenly was that, 
 owing to the situation of their city right on the edge of 
 tlie ocean, witli the great Gulf Stream not so very far ott, 
 their winters were usually more or less mild and broken. 
 
 But this particular winter was neither mild nor broken ; 
 on the contrary, it was both steady and severe. One 
 frosty day followed another, each one dragging the ther- 
 mometer down a few decfrces lower, until at last a won- 
 dcrful thing happened — so wonderful, indeed, that the 
 already mentioned oldest inliabitants again were unani- 
 mous in assuring inquirers that it had happened only once 
 before in their lives — and this was that the broad, beautiful 
 harbour, after hiding its bosom for several days beneath a 
 
 ■ i . 
 
 ' • ■' 1 
 
 il 
 
 
 V 1 
 
 11 
 
 
 li 
 
 f'S' ■ 
 
 1 
 
 
i 
 
 ? 
 
 44 
 
 TOUCH AND GO 
 
 ■i i! 
 
 , 
 
 ij 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 i . 
 1 '» 
 
 cloud of mist, called by seafaring folk the " barber," sur- 
 rendered one night to the embrace of the Ice King, and 
 froze over solidly from shore to shore. 
 
 Such a splendid sight as it made wearing this sparkling 
 breastplate ! Not a flake of snow fell upon it. From 
 away down below George's Island, up through the Nar- 
 rows, and into the Basin, as far as the eye coidd reach, lay 
 a vast expanse of glistening ice, upon which tlie boys soon 
 ventured with their skates and sleds, followed quickly by 
 the men, and a day or two later horses and sleighs were 
 driving merrily to and fro between Halifax and Dartmouth, 
 38 though they had been accustomed to it all their life, 
 The whole town went wild over this wonderful event. 
 No — not quite the whole town, after all, for there were 
 some unfortunate individuals who had ships at their 
 wharves that they wanted to send to sea, or expected ships 
 from the sea to come in to their wharves, and they quite 
 failed to see any fun in sleighing or skating where there 
 ouo'ht to have been dancing waves. 
 
 If, however, some of the business men thought a frozen 
 harbour an unmitigated nuisance, none of the boys who 
 attended Dr. Longstrap's famous school were of the same 
 mind. To them it was an unmixed blessing, and they 
 were so carried away by its taking place that they actually 
 had the hardihood to present a petition to the stern doctor 
 begging for a week's holiday in its honour. And what 
 is still more extraordinary, they carried their point to the 
 extent of one whole day, with which unwonted boon they 
 were fain to be content. 
 
hips 
 uite 
 
 TOUCH AXD GO 
 
 45 
 
 It was on this little anticipated holiday that the event 
 took place which it is the business of this story to relate. 
 Two of the most delighted boys at Dr. Longstrap's school 
 were Harvey Silver and Andy Martin. They were great 
 chums, being as much attached to each other as they were 
 unlike one another in appearance. They lived in the 
 same neighbourhood, were pretty much of the same age — 
 namely, fourteen last birthday — went to the same school, 
 learned the same lessons, and w^ere fond of the same sports. 
 But there the resemblance between them stopped. Andy 
 was hasty, impetuous, and daring ; Harvey was quiet, slow, 
 and cautious. In fact, one was both the contrast and the 
 complement of the other, and it was this, no doubt, more 
 than anything else, which made them so attached to each 
 other. Had their mutual likeness been greater, their 
 mutual liking would perhaps have been less. 
 
 " Isn't it just splendid having a whole holiday to-mor- 
 row ? " cried Harvey, enthusiastically, to his chum, as the 
 crowd of boys poured tumultuously out of school for their 
 morning recess, Dr. Longstrap having, with a grim smile, 
 just announced that in view of the freezing of the harbour 
 being such an extremely rare event, he had decided to 
 grant them one day's liberty. 
 
 " We must put in the whole day on the harbour," responded 
 Andy heartily. " Couldn't we take some lunch with us, 
 and then we needn't go home in the middle of the day ? " 
 
 " What a big head you have, to be sure ! " exclaimed 
 Harvey, with a look of mock admiration. " That's a great 
 idea. We'll do it." 
 
 .'iM. 
 
 'H 
 
w^ 
 
 ll! 
 
 iliiii 
 
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 ! . 
 
 I ; 
 
 i : 
 
 i - 
 
 :i 
 
 :i ;; 
 
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 46 
 
 TOUCH AND GO. 
 
 The followini^ day was Thursday, and when tlie two 
 boys opened tlieir eyes after such a sleep as only tired 
 healthy schoolboys can secure, they were delighted to find 
 every promise of a fine day. The sun shone brightly, the 
 air was clear, the wind was hushed, and everything in 
 their favour. As Harvey, in the highest spirits, took his 
 seat at the breakfast table, he pointed out the window, 
 from which a full view of the harbour could be obtained. 
 " Look, father," said he, " if there isn't the English mail 
 steamer just coming round the lighthouse ! Thei-e'll be no 
 getting to the wharf for her to-day. What do you think 
 they'll do ? " 
 
 " Come up the harbour as far as they can, and then land 
 the mails and passengers on the ice, I suppose," answered 
 Mr. Silver. 
 
 " But how can she come up when it's all frozen ? " 
 queried Harvey. 
 
 " Easily enough. Ram her way through until it is thick 
 enough to stop her." 
 
 " Oh, what fun that will be ! " exclaimed Harvey. 
 " How glad I am that we have a holiday to-day, so we can 
 see it all!" 
 
 " Well, take good care of yourself, my boy, and be sure 
 and be back before dark," said Mr. Silver. 
 
 When, according to promise, Andy Martin called for him 
 soon after breakfast, Harvey dragged him to the dining- 
 room window, and pointing out the steamer, now coming 
 into the harbour at a good rate of speed, said gleefully, — 
 
 " There's the English mail steamer, Andy, and father 
 
lick 
 
 'vey. 
 s can 
 
 sure 
 
 him 
 
 img- 
 
 ther 
 
 TOUCH AND GO. 
 
 47 
 
 says she'll ram her way up t.hrouf]jh the ice as far as she 
 possibly can. Won't that be grand ? " 
 
 Shortly after, the two boys loft the house, and hastened 
 off down Water Street until they reached a wharf from 
 which they could easily get out upon the ice. They were 
 both good skaters for their age, strong, sure, and speedy, 
 nnd their first proceeding was to dart away across the 
 liarbour, spurting against one another in the first freshness 
 of their youthful vigour, until they had reached the outer 
 edge of the Dartmouth wharv-es. They then thought it 
 was about time to rest a bit and regain their breath. 
 
 " What perfect ice ! " gasped Andy. " It's ever so much 
 better than fresh-water ice, isn't it ? " 
 
 Harvey, being very much out of breath, simply nodded. 
 
 Andy was right, too. Whatever be the reason, the 
 finest ice a skater can have is that which forms upon salt 
 water. It has good qualities in which fresh-water ice is 
 alto2fether lacking. 
 
 " Hallo, Andy ! there's the steamer," cried Harvey sud- 
 denly, having quite recovered his wind. 
 
 Sure enough, just beyond George's Island the great dark 
 hull of the ocean greyhound was discernible, as with suy^erb 
 majesty she solemnly pushed her way through tiio tliin, 
 ragged ice which marked where the current had been too 
 strong for the breastplate to form properly. Full of 
 impatience to watch the steamer's doings, the two boys 
 hurried toward her at their best pace, so that in a few 
 minutes they were not far from her bows, and as far out 
 upon the ice as they thought it safe to venture. 
 
 
 '(<l% 
 
 'is, 
 
 ,11 
 
 Ill's 
 
48 
 
 TOUCH AN J) GO. 
 
 No doubt it was a rare and thrilling .sight, and not only 
 the boys, but all who were upon the harbour at the time, 
 gathered to witness it. The steamer was now i^^ the 
 thick, well-knitted ice, and could no longer force he tty 
 onward steadily, so she had to resort to rannuing. Her 
 course lay parallel to the wharves, and about one hundred 
 yards or more from them. Reversing her engines, she 
 would back slowly down the long narrow canal male in 
 her onward progress until some hundreds of yards a 'ay ; 
 then coming to a halt for a moment, she would begin to 
 go ahead, at first very slowly, almost imperceptibly, ;hen 
 gradually gathering speed as the huge screw spun x< und, 
 sending waves from side to side of the ice-walled ' 3 ; 
 faster and still faster, while the spectators, thrilli^ i .1 
 excitement, held their breath in expectation ; fa'ter and 
 still faster, until at last, with a crash that made even ti.v 
 steamer's vast frame tremble from stem to stern, the sharp 
 steel bow struck the icy barrier, and with splintering 
 sound bored its way fiercely through, but losing a little 
 impetus with every yard gained, so that by the time the 
 steamer had made her own length her onset was at an end, 
 and sullenly withdrawing, she had to renew the attack. 
 
 As at the beo-inninu', so at the end of the steamer's 
 •iharge, there was a moment when she stood perfectly still. 
 This w^as when all her impetus was exhausted, and for a 
 brief second she paused before rebounding and backing 
 a'»vay. During this almost imperceptible instant it was 
 just possible for a swift sknter to dart up and touch the 
 bow as it towered above the ice hard pressed against it. 
 
TOUCH AND GO. 
 
 49 
 
 There was absolutely nothing in such a feat except its 
 daiinu'. Yet — and perhaps for that very reason — there 
 were those present rash enough to attempt it. Big Ben 
 Hill, the champion speed skater, was the first, and he 
 siieceeded so admirably that others soon followed his 
 example. Harvey and Andy were intensely interested 
 spectators as one after another, darting up just at the right 
 iiioment, touched with outstretched finger-tips the steamer's 
 
 THE ICE OPENED BENEATH HIS VKKY 1 EET. 
 
 
 jl; , bow, and then, with skilful turn, swun 
 |i|' safely out of the way. 
 
 " I'm going to try it too," said 
 Andy, under his breath. 
 
 " You'll do nothing of the kind, Andy," answered Harvey. 
 " It's just touch and go every time." 
 
 " Yes, I will. Buntie Boggs just did it, and if he can 
 do it, I can," returned Andy eagerly. 
 
 As he spoke, the steamer came gliding on for another 
 
 (<J04) 4 
 
 i 
 
 x 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 i: 
 
 ! ; 
 
 
 

 50 
 
 TOUCH AND GO. 
 
 charge. With eyes flashing, nerves tingling, muscles tense, 
 and heart beating like a trip-hammer, Andy awaited her 
 onset. Crash, crack, splinter ; then pause — and like an 
 arrow he flew at her bow. Harvey tried to hold him 
 back, but in vain. Over the smooth ice he shot, and right 
 up to the big black bow. With a smile of triumph he 
 stretched out his hand, when — crash ! the ice opened sud- 
 denly beneath his very feet, and he pitched headlong into 
 the dark swirling water. 
 
 A cry of horror went up from the crowd, and with one 
 impulse they moved as closely as they dared to the edge 
 of the open water. There was a moment of agonized 
 silence, then a shout of joy as a fur cap, followed by a 
 dark body, emei'ged from the w^ater, and presently Andy's 
 frightened face was turned imploringly toward them. He 
 could swim well enough, and keep himself afloat all right ; 
 but the steamer retreating along the narrow canal created 
 a strong current, which bore him after her, and he was in 
 no slight danger. 
 
 " Save him ! oh, save him, won't you ? " cried Harvey, 
 grasping Ben Hill's arm imploringly. 
 
 " I will that, my lad ; never fear." 
 
 But how was it to be done ? All along the edge of the 
 canal In which Andy was struggling for life, and for some 
 vards from it, the ice was cracked and broken into 
 jagged fragments, making it impossible for any one to 
 approach near enough to the boy to help him out, and 
 for the same reason he was unable to climb out by himself. 
 
 " A rope ! a rope ! I must have a rope ! " shouted Ben 
 
TOUCH AND GO. 
 
 51 
 
 ras m 
 
 )i' the 
 some 
 
 into 
 no to 
 
 and 
 Imselt'. 
 
 Ben 
 
 Hill, looking eagerly around him. His quick eye fell upon 
 a schooner lying at the head of a wharf near by. 
 
 " Cheer him up, boys," cried Ben ; " I'll be back in a 
 second ; " and like a flash ho sped oti' toward the schooner. 
 
 Almost in less time than it takes to tell it ho reached 
 her side, sprang over the low bulwarks on to the deck, 
 snatched up a coil of rope that lay upon the cabin poop, 
 leaped hack to the ice, and with mighty strides came 
 down toward the water, amid the cheers of the onlookers. 
 
 " Look out for yourself, Andy ! " Ben shouted, as he 
 drew close to the canal's edge, coiling the rope for a throw. 
 " Now, then, catch ! " and tlie long rope went swirling 
 throviii-h the air. 
 
 A cry of disap]iointmcnt from the crowd announced 
 that it had fallen short. 
 
 "All right, Andy — better luck next time," called Ben, 
 iis he rapidly recovered the rope for another fling. Ventur- 
 ing a little nearer, and taking more pains, he flung it out 
 with all his strength, and this time a shout of joy pro- 
 claimed that his aim had been true. 
 
 " Put it und(>r your arms," called out Ben. 
 
 Lettinof <j;o the cake of ice to which he had been clino;- 
 iiig, Andy slipped the rope under his arms. 
 
 " Now, then, hold tight." And slowly, cai-efully, hand 
 <»vrr hand, big Ben, with feet braced flrmly and muscles 
 straining, dreAV Andy through the broken cakes and up 
 upon the firm safe ice. The moment he was out of danger 
 a shout burst forth from the relieved spectators, and they 
 crowded eagerly round rescued and rescuer. 
 
 i V '■; % 
 
 1 1 
 
 Wil 
 
i 
 
 
 in I m 
 
 S« 
 
 roue IT AND GO. 
 
 \\ !'} 
 
 iii 
 
 " Out of the way there, please ! out of the way ! " cried 
 Ben, as he gathered Andy's dripping form up in his arms. 
 '' This lad must be beside a fire as soon as possible," 
 
 Fortunately the crew were still on board the schooner 
 from which the precious rope had been borrowed, and they 
 had a fine fire in the cabin. Into this warm /ok Andy 
 was borne without delay. His wet clothes were soon 
 stripped ofi", and he was turned into a bunk until dry ones 
 could be procured. A messenger was despatched with the 
 news to his home, and before lonijf his mother, with feelino's 
 strangely divided bot^A'een smiles and tears, drove down 
 for the boy who liad come so near to being lost to her 
 for ever. 
 
 That evening, as Harvey and Andy were sitting by the 
 fireside recountino- for the tenth time the stirrinn' incidents 
 of the day, and voicing together the praises of big Ben 
 Hill, Au' ^ , with a sly twinkle of the eye, turned to 
 Harvey, saying, " ])o j^ou i-emember saying to me that it 
 was a touch and go every time ? " 
 
 " Yes, Andy ; what of it ? " 
 
 " Well, I was just thinking that in my case I didn't 
 touch, but I went — under the water, and I won't be in a 
 hurry to try it again." 
 
 d' 
 
THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 — -i->-*;gf#5«'<^ — 
 
 her 
 
 lidn't 
 
 in a 
 
 SAY, Bruce, don't you tliink we could manage to put 
 in a whole week up among the hills this autumn?" 
 asked Fred Harris of Bruce Borden, as the two friends 
 strolled along together one September afternoon through 
 the main street of Shelburnc, one of the prettiest towns 
 upon the Nova Scotian sea-board. 
 
 " I guess so, Fred," responded Bruce promptly. " Father 
 promised me a week's holiday to spend any way I chose if 
 I stuck to the shop all summer, and I've been thinking for 
 some time what I would do. That's a grand idea of yours. 
 When would we go ? " 
 
 " About the first of next month would bo tlve best time, 
 wouldn't it ? We could shoot partridges then, you know, 
 and tlierc won't be any mosquitoes or black flies to 
 bother us." 
 
 " All right, Fred. Count me in. I'm just dying for a 
 shot at the partridges ; and, besides, I know of a lake way 
 up in the hills where there are more trout than wo coidd 
 catch in a year, and splcndi*! big fellows, too! Archie 
 Miick was tollinii' uie about it the other dav." 
 
 'li 
 
 I' 
 
 
 it 
 
 I 
 
 .H 
 
54 
 
 THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 j^i! 
 
 m 
 
 " Wliy, that's the very place I wanted to go to ; and it 
 was Archie who told me about it, too," said Fred. " I'll 
 tell you what, Bruce, we must get Archie to come with us, 
 and then we'll have a fine time for sure." 
 
 " Hooray ! You've got the notion now," cried Bruce 
 with delight. " Archie's a splendid fellow for the woods, 
 and he's such a good shot ; he hardly ever misses. Why, 
 I wouldn't mind meeting a bear if Archie was present." 
 
 " Ah, wouldn't you though, Mr. Bruce ! " laughed Fred. 
 '' I guess if either you or I were to come across a bear he'd 
 see more of our heels than our face. I know I wouldn't 
 stop to make his ac(iuaintance." 
 
 " I'll warrant Archie wouldn't run from any bear," said 
 Bruce, " and I'm not so sure that I would either. How- 
 ever, there's small chance of our seeing one, so it's not 
 much good talking about it. But I must run back to the 
 shop now. Won't you come in after tea to-night, and we'll 
 make our plans ? " 
 
 Fred promised he would, and went on down the street, 
 while Bruce returned to his place behind the counter ; and 
 if he was a little absent-minded in attending to the 
 customers, so that he gave JVIrs. White pepper instead of 
 salt, and Mrs. M'Coy tea instead of coffee, we must not be 
 too hard upon him. 
 
 Bruce Borden was the son of one of the most thiiving 
 shopkeepers in Shelburne, and his father, after lotting him 
 go to school and the academy until he was sixteen years 
 of age, had then put an apron on him and installed him 
 behind the counter, there to learn the management of the 
 
THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 55 
 
 business, which he promised him would be Robert Borden 
 and Son in due time if Bruce took hold of it in the right 
 way. And Bruce did take hold. He was a bright, active, 
 enei'getic lad, with a pleasant manner, and made an 
 excellent clerk, pleasing his father so well that as the first 
 year's apprenticeship was drawing to a close, Mr. Borden, 
 quite of his own accord, made glad Bruce's heart by saying 
 that he might soon have a whole week's holiday to do 
 wliat he liked with, before settling down to the winter's 
 work. 
 
 Bruce's friend, Fred Harris, as the son of a wealthy 
 mill-owner who held mortgages on half the farms in the 
 neighbourhood, did not need to go behind a counter, but, 
 on the contrary, went to college about the same time that 
 Bruce put on his apron. He was now at hotae for the 
 vacation, which would not end until the last of October. 
 He was a lazy, luxurious kind of a chap, although not 
 lacking either in mind or muscle, as he had shown more 
 than once when the occasion demanded it. Bruce and he 
 had been playmates from the days of short frocks, and 
 wore very strongly attached to one another. They rarely 
 disagreed, and when they did, made it up again as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 In accordance with his promise, Fred Harris came to 
 Mr. Borden's shop that same evening just before they were 
 closing up, bringing Archie Mack with him ; and aftei* 
 the shutters had been put on and everything arranged for 
 the night, the three boys sat down to perfect their plans 
 for the proposed hunting excursion to the hills. 
 
 ■.V 
 
 M 
 
 
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 , 'I 
 
 
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 1 1 
 
 ! 
 
 
 ''1 
 
56 
 
 THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 W 
 
 m 
 
 a i' 
 
 Archie Mack bore quite a different appearance from his 
 companions. He was older, to begin with, and much 
 taller, his long sinewy frame betokening a more than 
 usual amount of strength and activity. He had only of 
 late come to Shelburne, the early part of his life having 
 been spent on one of the pioneer farms among the hills, 
 where he had become almost as good a woodsman as an 
 Indian, seeming to be able to find his way without diffi- 
 culty through what looked like trackless wilderness, and 
 to know everything about the birds in the air, the beasts 
 on the ground, or the fish in the waters. This knowledge, 
 of course, made him a good deal of a hero among the town 
 boys, and they regarded acquaintance with him as quite 
 a privilege, particularly as, being of a reserved, retiring 
 nature, like all true backwoodsmen, it was not easy to get 
 on intimate terms with him. He was now employed at 
 Mr. Harris's big lumber-mill, and was in high favoui' with 
 his master because of the energy and fidelity with which 
 he attended to his work. 
 
 " Now then, Fred, let's to business," said Bruce, as they 
 took possession of the chairs in the back office. " When 
 shall we start, and what shall we take ? " 
 
 " Archie's the man to answer these questions," answered 
 Fred. " I move that we appoint him commander-in-chief 
 of the expedition, with full power to settle everything." 
 
 " You'd better make sun^ tliat I can go first," said 
 Archie. " It won't do to be counting your chickens before 
 they're hatched." 
 
 " Oh, there's no fear of that," replied Fred. " Father 
 
 ■I 'i 
 
then 
 
 3rcd 
 Ihief 
 
 said 
 t'orc 
 
 ihor 
 
 '1 
 
 THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF, 
 
 57 
 
 
 promised me he'd give yoii a week's holiday so that we 
 could go hunting together some time this autumn, and he 
 never fails to keep his promises." 
 
 " All right then, Fred, if you say so. I'm only too 
 willing to go with you, you may be sure. So let us pro- 
 ceed to business," said Archie. And for the next hour or 
 more the three tongues wagged very busily as all sorts of 
 plans were proposed, discussed, accepted, or rejected, Archie, 
 of course, taking the lead in the consultation, and usually 
 having the final say. 
 
 At length everything was settled so far as it could be 
 then, and, very well satisfied with the result of their de- 
 liberations, the boys parted for the night. As soon as he 
 got home, Fred Harris told his father all about it, and 
 readily obtained his consent to giving Archie a week's 
 leave. There was, therefore, nothing more to be done than 
 to get their guns and other things ready, and await the 
 coming of the 1st of October with all the patience at their 
 command. 
 
 October is a glorious month in Nova Scotia. The sun 
 sliincs down day after day from an almost cloudless sky ; 
 the air is clear, cool, and bracing without being keen ; the 
 ground is dry and firm ; the forests are decked in a wonder- 
 ful garb of gold and flame interwoven with gi-een whose 
 richness and beauty defy description, and beneath which a 
 wealth of wild fruit and berries, cherries, plums, Indian 
 pears, blackberries, huckleberries, blueberries, and pigeon- 
 1 terries tempts you at every step by its luscious largess. But 
 tor the sportsman there are still greater attractions in the 
 
 If 
 
 
 
 i 
 
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 5 
 
 III 
 
 
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 811 
 
 
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 Nr 
 
 ill'" 
 
 58 
 
 THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 partridges wliich Hy in flocks among the trees, and the trout 
 and salmon which flash through the streams, ready victims 
 for rod or gun. 
 
 Early in the morning of the last day in September the 
 three boys set out for the hills. It would be a whole day's 
 drive, for their waggon was pretty heavily loaded with 
 tent, stove, provisions, bedding, ammunition, and other 
 things, and, moreover, the road went up-hill all the way. 
 So steep, indeed, were some of the ascents that they found 
 it necessary to relieve the waggon of their weight, or the 
 horse could hardly have reached the top. But all this was 
 fun to them. They rode or walked as the case required ; 
 talked till their tongues were tired about what they hoped 
 to do ; laughed at Prince and Oscar, their two dogs — one a 
 fine English setter, the other a nondescript kind of hound 
 — as they scoured the woods on either side of the road 
 with great airs of importance ; scared the squirrels that 
 stopped for a peep at the travellers by snapping caps at 
 them ; and altogether enjoyed themselves greatly. 
 
 Just as the evening shadows were beginning to fall they 
 reached the farm on which Archie Mack's father lived, 
 where they were to spend the night, and to leave their 
 waggon until their return from camp. Mr. Mack gave 
 them a hearty welcome and a bountiful backwoods supper 
 of fried chicken, corn-cake, butter-milk, and so forth, for 
 which they had most appreciative appetites ; and soon 
 after, thoroughly tired out, they tumbled into bed to sleep 
 like tops until the morning. 
 
 '' Cock-a-doodle-doo ! Time to get up ! Out of bed 
 
THE CAVE IJV THE CLIFF. 
 
 59 
 
 with yoii ! " rang through the house the next morning, as 
 Archie Mack, who was the first to waken, proceeded to 
 ^vukon everybody else. 
 
 " Oh dear, how sleepy I am ! " groaned Fred Harris, 
 rubbing his eyes, and feeling as though he had been asleep 
 only a few minutes. 
 
 " Up,, everybody, no time to waste ! " shouted Archie 
 iiL^ain ; and with great reluctance the other two boys, 
 (.Irauiiino- themselves out on the floor, got into their clothes 
 as quickly as they could. 
 
 Breakfast was hurriedly despatched, and soon after, with 
 all their belongings packed on an old two-wheeled cart 
 drawn by a patient sure-footed ox, and driven by Mr. 
 ^lack himself, the little party made their way through the 
 woods to their camping-ground, which was to be on the 
 shore of the lake Archie had been telling them about. 
 ^\'ithout much difficulty they found a capital spot for 
 their tent. Mr. Mack helped them to put it up and get 
 everything in order, and then bade them good-bye, promis- 
 inci; to return in six davs to take them all back again. 
 
 The first four days passed away without anything of 
 ■special note happening. They had glorious weather, fine 
 fishing, and very successful shooting. They waded in the 
 water, tramped through the woods, ate like Eskimos, and 
 slept like stones, getting browner and fatter every day, as 
 nothing occurred to mar the pleasure of their camp out. 
 On the afternoon of the fourth day they all went off in 
 tliff'erent directions, Fred taking Prince the setter with 
 him, Bruce the hound Oscar, and Archie going alone. 
 
1 
 
 1 
 
 5;!. 
 
 ) 
 
 60 
 
 THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 When tliey got back to camp that evening Lruce had a 
 wonderful story to tell. Here it is in his own words : — 
 
 " Tell you what it is, fellows, we've a big contract on 
 hand for tomorrow. You know that run which comes 
 into the lake at the upper end. Well, I thought I'd follow 
 it up and see where it leads to ; so on I went for at 
 least a couple of miles till I came to a big clilK I felt u 
 little tired, and sat down on a boulder to rest a bit. Oscar 
 kept running around with his nose at the ground as if he 
 suspected something. All of a sudden he stopped short, 
 sniffed very hard, and then with a loud, long Jiowl rushed 
 off to the cliff, and began to climb a kind of ledge that 
 gave him a foothold. I followed him as best I could ; but 
 it wasn't easy work, I can tell you. Up he went, and up 
 I scrambled after him, till at last lie stopped wliere there 
 was a sort of shelf, and at the end of it a big hole in the 
 rock that looked very much like a cave. He ran right up 
 to the hole and befjan to bark with all his midit. I went 
 up pretty close, too, wondering what on earth O'scar was 
 so excited about, when, the first thing I knew, one bear's 
 head and then another poked out of the hole, and snarled 
 fiercely at Oscar. I tell you, boys, it just made me creep, 
 and I didn't wait for another look, but tumbled down that 
 ledge again as fast as I could and made for camp on the 
 dead run. It was not my day for bears." 
 
 " You're a wise chap, Bruce," said Archie, clapping him 
 on the back. " You couldn't have done much damage with 
 that shot-gun, even if you had stayed to introduce yourself. 
 I'm awfully glad you've found the cave. Father told me 
 
THE CAVE IN THE CUFF. 
 
 6 1 
 
 about these bears, and said he'd give a sovereign for their 
 tails. Tliere's an old she-bear and two lialf-grown cuLs. 
 1 guess it was the cubs you saw. The old woman must 
 have been out visiting." 
 
 " If I'd known that they were only cubs I might have 
 tiifd a dose of small shot on them," said Bruce regret- 
 fully. 
 
 " It's just as well you didn't," answered Archie. " We'll 
 pay our respects to them to-inorrow I'll take my rifle, 
 and you two load up with ball in both barrels, and then 
 we'll be ready for business." 
 
 So it was all arranged in that way, and then, almost too 
 excited to sleep, the three lads settled down for the night, 
 which could not be too short to please them. 
 
 They were up bright and early the next morning, bolted 
 a hasty breakfast, and then proceeded to clean and load 
 their guns with the utmost care. Fred and Bruce each 
 had fine double-barrelled guns, in one barrel of which they 
 put a bullet, and in the other a heavy load of buckshot. 
 Archie had his father's rifle, and a very good one it was, 
 which he well knew how to use. Besides this each carried 
 a keen-bladed huntinG:-knife in his belt. 
 
 Thus armed and accoutred they set forth full of 
 courage and in high spirits. They had no difliculty in 
 finding and following Bruce's course the day before, for 
 Oscar, who seemed to thoroughly understand what they 
 were about, led them straight to the foot of the cliff, and 
 would have rushed right up to the cave again if Archie 
 had not caught him and tied him to a boulder. Then they 
 
 
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THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 i'l'' 
 
 sat down to study tlic situation. For them to go strai^^lit 
 up tlic ledge with the clwinco of tlie old hoar charging 
 down upon them any moment would he foolhardy in the 
 extreme. They must find out some better way than that 
 of bcsiejxing the hears' stronghold. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " exclaimed Archie, after studvinr^ the face 
 of the cliff earnestly. " I have it ! Do you see that ledge 
 over there to the left ? If we go round to the other side 
 of the clitf we can get on that ledge most likely, and it'll 
 take us to riu'ht over the shelf where the cave is. We'll 
 try it, anyway.' 
 
 Holding Oscar tight, they crept cautiously around the 
 foot of the clitl", and up at the left, until they reached the 
 point Archie meant. There, sure enough, they found the 
 ledge two sharp eyes had discovered, and it evidently led 
 over toward the cave just as he hoped. Once more tying 
 the dog, who looked up at them in surprised protest, luit 
 was too well trained to make any noise, the hoys made 
 their way slowly along the narrow ledge, until at last they 
 came to a kind of niche from which they could look 
 straight down upon the shelf, now only about fifteen feet 
 below them. 
 
 "Splendid, boys!" whispered Archie, grippin ^ ct}d's 
 arm. " We're as safe as a church-mouse here, an oy can't 
 poke their noses out of the cave without our scemg them." 
 
 Keeping very still and quiet, the loys waited patiently 
 for wdiat would happen. Then, getting tired of the in- 
 action, Bruce picked up a fragment of rock and threw 
 it down upon the ledge below, where it rattled noisih'. 
 
 i. 
 
d. 
 
 THE CAVE IN THE CUFF. 
 
 63 
 
 ARCHIE AIMED STRAKiUT AT THE UEAR's HEART." 
 
 Immediately a deep, fierce growl came 
 from the cave, and a moment after- 
 wards the old bear herself rolled out into the sunsliine. 
 
 "T .' top of the morning to you, missus ! " called out 
 Archie saucily. " And how may your ladyship be feeling 
 this morning ? " 
 
 "'% 
 
 .i; 
 
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 64 
 
 T/f£: CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 9 
 
 VJ 
 
 1 1'' 
 
 At tlie sound of his voice the bear turned quickly, and 
 catching sight of the three boys in such close proximity to 
 the privacy of her home, uttered a terrible roar of rage, 
 and rearing up on her hind legs, strove to climb the piece 
 of cliff that separated them from her. 
 
 Bruce and Fred, who had never seen a wild bear before, 
 shrank terror-stricken into the corner, but Archie, looking 
 as cool as a cucumber, stood his ground, rifle in hand. 
 
 " No, no, my lady ; not this morning," said he, with an 
 ironical bow. " You're quite near enough already." 
 
 Foiled in her first attempt, the great creature gathered 
 herself together for another spring, and once more came to- 
 ward them with a savage roar. As she did so her broad, 
 black breast was fully exposed. Without a tremor of fear 
 or excitement Archie lifted his rifle to his shoulder and 
 aimed straight at the bear's heart ; a sharp report rang out 
 through the clear morning air, followed close by a hideous 
 howl of mingled rage and pain ; and when the smoke 
 cleared away the boys, with throbbing hearts, looked down 
 upon a huge black shape that writhed and struggled in 
 the agonies of death. A simultaneous shout of victory 
 burst from their lips and gave relief to their excited 
 emotions. 
 
 " Hurrah, Archie ! You've done for her," cried Fred, 
 clapping him vigorously on the back. 
 
 " Yes. I reckon she won't have any more mutton at 
 father's expense," said Archie with a triumphant smile. 
 " Just look at her now. Isn't she a monster ? " 
 
 In truth she was a monster ; and even though the life 
 
THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 65 
 
 seemed to have completely left her, the boys thought it 
 well to wait a good many minutes before going any 
 nearer. After some time, when there could be no longer 
 any doubt, they scrambled down the way they came, and, 
 unloosing Oscar, approached the cave from the front. 
 Oscar bounded on ahead with eager leaps, and catching 
 sight of the big black body, rushed furiously at it. But 
 the moment he reached it lie stopped, smelled the body 
 suspiciously, and then gave vent to a strange, long howl 
 that sounded curiously like a death lament. After that 
 there could be nothing more to fear ; so the three boys 
 climbed up on the shelf and proceeded to examine their 
 quarry. She w'as very large, and in splendid condition, 
 having been feasting upon unlimited berries for weeks 
 past. 
 
 " Now for the cubs," said Archie. " The job's only half 
 done if we leave these young rascals alone. I'm sorry 
 they're too big to take alive. Ha, ha ! Oscar says they're 
 at home." 
 
 Sure enough the hound w^as barking furiously at the 
 niouth of the cave, which he appeared none too anxious to 
 enter, 
 
 " Bruce, suppose you try wdiat damage your buckshot 
 would do in there," suffsested Archie. 
 
 " All right," assented Bruce, and, going up to the mouth, 
 
 he peered in. Two pairs of gleaming eyes that were much 
 
 nearer than he expected made him start back wuth an 
 
 exclamation of surprise. But, quickly recovering himself, 
 
 he raised his gnn and fired right at the little round balls 
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 66 
 
 THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF. 
 
 of light. Following upon the report came a series of 
 queer cries, half-growls, half- whimpers, and presently all 
 was still. 
 
 " I guess that did the business," said Bruce. 
 
 " Why don't you go in and see ? " asked Archie. 
 
 " Thank you. I'd rather not ; but you can, if you like," 
 replied Bruce. 
 
 " Very well, I will," said Archie promptly, lajnng down 
 his gun. And, drawing his hunting -knife, he crawled 
 cautiously into the cave. Not a move or sound was there 
 inside. A little distance from the mouth he touched one 
 soft, furry body from which life had fled, and just behind 
 it another. The buckshot had done its work. The cubs 
 were as dead as their mother. The next thing was to get 
 them out. The cave was very low and narrow, and the 
 cubs pretty big fellows. Archie crawled out again for a 
 consultation with the others. Various plans were suggested 
 but rejected, until at length Archie called out, — 
 
 " I have it ! I'll crawl in there and get a good grip of 
 one of the cubs, and then you fellows will catch hold of 
 my legs and haul us both out together." 
 
 And so that was the way they managed it, pulling and 
 puffing and toiling away until, finally, after tremendous 
 exertion, they had the two cubs lying beside their mother 
 on the ledge. 
 
 " Phew ! That's quite enough work for me to-day," 
 said Fred, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. 
 
 " For me too ! " chorused the others. 
 
 " I move we go back to camp and wait there until 
 
THE CAVE IN THE CLIER 
 
 67 
 
 fatlicr comes ^^'itll liis cavt, and then come up here for the 
 bears," said Archie. 
 
 " Carried unanimously ! " cried the others, and -witli that 
 tliey all betook themselves back to camp. 
 
 The rest of the story is soon told. Mr. Mack came 
 along that afternoon, praised the boys highly for their 
 pluck, and with experienced hands skinned and cut up the 
 l)ears. To Archie, as of right, fell the skin of the old bear, 
 whilt^ the others got a cub-pelt apiece, with which they 
 went triumphantly home to be the heroes of the towni for 
 the next nine davs at lea'^t. 
 
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 of 
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 Till; I'KRFECTIOX OF Mf)TrON'. 
 
 TOBOGGANING. 
 
 — '* ^ '*i^r-'<^~*^f:-- 
 
 t' (• 
 
 IF skating bo the poetry of motion — and who shall say 
 no ? — tobogganing is certainly the perfection of mo- 
 tion. There is rtothing of the kind to surpass it in the 
 world ; for coasting, however good, is not to be mentioned 
 in the same breath with this glorious .sport. No previous 
 acquaintance with fast going — speeding along behind a 
 fast trotter, or over the shining rails at the tail of a light- 
 ning locomotive — would prepare you for the first shoot 
 dowm a regular toboggan slide. 
 
i. ill- 
 
 TOBOGGANING. 
 
 69 
 
 The effect upon a beginner is brightly illustrated by 
 the replies of a fair American who made her first venture 
 at the Montreal Carnival. Arriving safely at the bottom 
 after a particularly swift descent, she was asked how she 
 liked it. 
 
 " Perfectly splendid ! " she gasped, us soon as slie re- 
 covered her breath. " I wouldn't have missed it for the 
 world." 
 
 " Then, of course, you'll take another ? " 
 
 " Oh no, indeed ! Not for the entire universe." 
 
 But she did, all the same, and soon became as enthusi- 
 astic over the fun as any of her Canadian cousins. 
 
 All ages and all sorts and conditions of people toboggan 
 ill Canada. Indeed, if you were to ask what is the 
 national winter sport of the New TJominion, the answer 
 would infallibly be tobogganing. In no other country 
 was it ever known until within the past few years, when 
 such accounts of its delights have gone forth that it bids 
 fair to come into common use wherever there is snow 
 enough to permit it. While it can be enjoyed to perfection 
 only at the slides specially prepared for the purpose, any 
 smooth sharp slope with a bit of level plain at its foot, 
 well covered with snow having a good hard crust, affords 
 the means for fine sport. 
 
 The advantage of the artificial slide is that it can be 
 kept constantly in order, and therefore may be in first-class 
 condition for sliding when the snow is altoijether too soft 
 and deep upon the hills. These slides are to be seen in 
 every part of Canada, their gaunt framework rising up 
 
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 H-^ 
 
 70 
 
 TOBOGGANING. 
 
 
 
 tall and stiff out of soiiio level fiekl, or, better still, upon 
 a hill-top, thus securing a double elevation. They are 
 roughly yet strongly constructed of beams and boards, and 
 comprise one, or sometimes two, long troughs placed side 
 by side, with a flight of stairs adjoining. These troughs 
 are curved in the shape of a cycloid, and are from three to 
 five feet wide, the length, of course, varying with the height 
 of the structure. When winter has finally set in they are 
 paved with big blocks of ice from bottom to top, over 
 which loose snow is scattered, and then abundance of 
 water poured on, until, Jack Frost kindly assisting, the 
 whole is welded together into one solid substantial mass. 
 
 A slide once properly prepared, and kept in order by the 
 addition of a little more snow and water now and then, 
 will last all winter ; and the more it is used, the faster and 
 truer it becomes. In the grounds of Rideau Hall, the 
 official residence of the Governor-General of Canada, there 
 are two immense slides, and tobogganing may there be en- 
 joyed in fidl perfection. 
 
 Let us suppose we hav^e been invited to one of those 
 brilliant torchlight fetes which form so popular an item 
 in the progrannne of the viceroy's winter hospitality. A 
 more beautiful scene than that which lies all around and 
 underneath us, when we have accomplished the toilsome 
 ascent of the steep, slippery stairs of the toboggan slide, 
 can hardly be imagined. Stretching away from the narrow 
 platform upon which we stand, two long double lines of 
 flaring torches mark out the slides, slanting sharply down- 
 ward until they reach the level far below, and then run 
 
 i^i 
 
TOBOGGANING. 
 
 71 
 
 off to hide their endings somewhere in the dusky recesses 
 of the forest. At our left another line of torches, inter- 
 spersed with Chinese lanterns, encircles a gleaming mirror, 
 upon whose surface the skaters glide smoothly this way 
 and that, while from its centre — looking oddly out of sea- 
 son, it must be confessed — a Maypole flaunts its rainbow 
 ribbons. 
 
 A little further on, the long, low curling rink, gaily 
 decorated, proclaims good cheer from every lighted window. 
 Turning to our left, we catch through the trees a glimpse 
 of the other skating pond, v/ith its ice palace for the band 
 and quaint log hut for tired skaters. Right in front of us 
 a huge bonfire blazes up, making music with its merry 
 crackling. 
 
 But we have lingered too long in taking all this in. We 
 are stopping the way, and an impatient crowd is pressing 
 hard upon us. Let us place our toboggan, then, carefully 
 in the centre of the groove, adjust the cushions, coil up the 
 cord, and seat ourselves securely, with stout grasp upon 
 the hand-rail. 
 
 " All ready ? " cries the steerer. 
 
 " Ay, ay ! " we reply. 
 
 Giving the toboggan a strong shove, he springs on behind, 
 with foot outstretched for rudder, and the next instant — 
 well, the only way to describe what follows is that we just 
 drop into space. We don't simply coast, for so steep, so 
 smooth is the descent that we are not conscious of havinof 
 any connection whatever with the solid earth for at least 
 twenty-five yards, and then, with a bump and rattle and 
 
 sir ■' 
 
 vi.'i 
 
 Ui. 
 
 
1 1 
 
 I"'' 
 
 72 
 
 TOBOGGANING. 
 
 scrape of liard wood against still harder ice, we speed like 
 an arrow through lines of flashing light and rows of open- 
 eyed onlookers, until full four hundred yards away we 
 come gently to a stop in the soft, deep snow amid the 
 trees. 
 
 The ordinary toboggan is made in the following fashion : 
 Three strips of birch or basswood, a quarter of an inch 
 thick and from four to eight feet long by eight or nine 
 inches broad, are put side by side and held in position by 
 cross-pieces placed about two feet apart, the whole being 
 bound tightly together by lashings of gut, for which 
 grooves are cut in the bottom so that they may not be 
 chafed by the snow. The thin end of the strips is then 
 turned up and over, like the dashboard of a sleigh, and 
 secured by strong pieces of gut tied under the first cross- 
 piece. A long thin pole on either side, made fast by loops 
 to the cross-pieces, for a hand-rail ; a comfortable cushion, 
 stuffed with straw, shavings, or wool, and a long cord, are 
 then added, and behold your toboggan is complete. 
 
 As may be guessed from the use of gut for fastenings, 
 the toboggan is an Indian invention, and was in use among 
 the red men as a means of winter conveyance for centuries 
 before the white man saw in it a source of delightfid 
 amusement. It is doubtful if the Indian way of making- 
 toboggans can be much improved upon, although within 
 the past few years pale-face ingenuity has been exerted 
 toward that end. The peculiarity of the new toboggans 
 consists in narrow hard-wood slats beino; used instead of 
 the broad, thin boards, and screws in place of gut lashings. 
 
TOBOGGANING. 
 
 73 
 
 For my own part, I prefer the old-fashioned kind. The 
 new-fangled atiairs are no faster, are a good bit heavier, 
 more liable to break, and being much stiti'er, have not that 
 .springy motion which forms so attractive a feature of the 
 others. 
 
 A third kind, just now making its appearance, has the 
 hand-rail held some inches high by means of metal sockets, 
 and the front is gathered into a peak, while it too is put 
 together with screws. The higher hand-rail is unquestion- 
 ably an advantage, and if it prove durable, will probably 
 render this last style very popular. 
 
 In choosing a toboggan you must be careful to select 
 one whose wood is straight-grained, and as free from knots 
 as possible, precisely as a cricketer would choose his bat. 
 The cross-pieces should be closely examined, for they have 
 to endure severe strains, and will be sure to snap if there 
 is a weak spot in them. Then the gut lashings ought to 
 have close inspection, especial care being taken to see that 
 they are well sunk into the wood along the bottom, so as 
 to be safe from chafing. Where the gut has given way I 
 have substituted strong brass wire with very good results, 
 after once it was drawn tight enough ; but this I found no 
 easy matter. 
 
 Having selected a toboggan to your satisfaction, the 
 next thing is to cushion it. The cushion should run the 
 whole length, and be not less than two inches thick. Good 
 stout furniture rep, stuffed with " excelsior," makes a capital 
 cushion, although some prefer heavy rug material, and ex- 
 travagant folk even go the length of fur trappings. The 
 
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74 
 
 TOBOGGANING. 
 
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 cushion must be well secured to the hand-rail, or it will 
 give trouble by slipping off at the iirst bump. 
 
 As to the management of a toboggan, it is not easy to 
 say much more than that it requires a quick eye, a good 
 nerve, and strength enough to steer. 
 
 There are several ways of steering. One is to sit with 
 feet turned up in front, and guide the machine by means 
 of sticks held in the hands. Another is to kneel, and 
 employ the hands in the same way. Then some very 
 daring and reckless fellows will venture to stand up, and 
 using the cord as reins, go careering down the slope, with 
 the danger of a tremendous tumble every moment. The 
 most sensible and effective way of all, however, is to sit 
 sideways, having one leg curled up underneath you, and 
 the other stretched out behind, like the steering oar of a 
 whale-boat, " Yankee fashion," as it is called in Canada. 
 This mode not only gives you perfect control of your 
 toboggan, but has the further and very important advan- 
 tage of making it easy for you to roll off, and acting as a 
 drag, bring the whole atfair to a speedy stop in the event 
 of danger appearing ahead. More than once have I escaped 
 what might possibly have been serious injury at the cost 
 of a little rough scraping over the snow. 
 
 From two to six people can sit comfortably on a tobog- 
 gan, according to its length. The perfect number is four 
 — a man at the front to bear the brunt of danger, and 
 ward ofi' the blinding spray of snow, two ladies next, and 
 then the steerer bringing up the rear, and responsible for 
 the safety of all. Ah me ! but what a grand thing it is 
 
TOBOGGANING. 
 
 n 
 
 to be young enough to tliorouglily enjoy tlio tobogganing 
 season. 
 
 The toboggan has many advantages over the sled such 
 as is used for coasting. Wherever a sled can go, a tobog- 
 r>an can go also, while on many a hill that otters splendid 
 tobogganing, a sled would be quite useless. Again, it ia 
 much lighter than the sled, which means that you do not 
 have to work half so hard for your fun. A third advan- 
 tage is its safety, more especially in the hands of children. 
 It has no sharp iron-shod ends to make ugly gashes in 
 little legs. Tobogganing has its perils, of course, and I 
 might, if I chose, tell some experiences that would perhaps 
 cause a nervous thrill ; but what sport is absolutely free 
 from danger ? And since Mark Twain has earned the 
 gratitude of us all by proving that more people die in their 
 beds than anywhere else, why should the most timid be 
 deterred by the faint possibility of peril from enjoying one 
 of the finest and most healthful winter amusements in the 
 woiid ? 
 
 
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 A MIC-MAC CINDERELLA. 
 
 ► s>t5^«^Ms- 
 
 is! i 
 
 THE clear old stories tliat delighted us in our nurseries 
 as mother or sister lured the lingering dustnum 
 to our eyes by telling them over and over, do not by any 
 means belong to us alone. They are the conmion property 
 of mankind. Even the most rude and ignorant peoples 
 have them in some form or other, and the study of these 
 myths and the folk-lore associated with them is one of 
 the most interesting branches of modern philology. " Jack 
 the Giant-Killer," " Puss in Boots," " Aladdin and his Won- 
 derful Lamp," and all the rest of them, have their parallels 
 in the farthest corners of the globe. They are to be 
 found, too, among the dusky race whose mothers told 
 them to their children long before pale-face eyes looked 
 covetously upon American shores and pale-face powder 
 sent terror into the hearts of brown-skinned braves. Take 
 this pretty legend of Tee-am and Oo-chig-e-asque as it was 
 told to an unforgetful listener beside a Mic-Mac camp-fire 
 in Nova Scotia, and, comparing with our own familiar 
 fable of Cinderella, see if the two are not alike in so 
 many points as to make it easy to believe they had a com- 
 
 mon origm. 
 
/t MI CM AC CIXDERELLA. 
 
 77 
 
 Til tlic heart of one of tlioso vast forests that used to 
 cover tlie Acadian land with billowy seas of verdure as 
 boundless seeuiin<;ly as the ocean itself, lay a large, long 
 lake, at one end of which an Indian village of more than 
 usual size had grown up. It was a capital place for a 
 settlement, because the lake abounded with fish, the sur- 
 rounding forest with game, and near at hand were sunny 
 ojiidos and bits of open upon which sufficient corn, beans, 
 and pumpkins could be raised for the needs of the inhab- 
 itants. So highly did these village folk value their good 
 fortune that they would allow no other Indians to share 
 it, and any attempt to settle near that lake meant the 
 massacre or flight of the rash intruders. A little way 
 from the village the lake shore rose up into a kind of emi- 
 nence having a clump of trees upon its crown, and in the 
 midst of this clump stood a wigwam that had more inter 
 est for the maidens of the place than any other. They 
 would often \vatch the smoke-wreaths curling up through 
 the trees, and wish that in some mysterious way they 
 could get into the interior of that wigwam without the 
 occupants having any warning; and many times they would, 
 quite by chance, you know, wander off in that direction, 
 or along the beach below, where the owner's canoe would 
 be drawn up when he was at home, looking out very 
 eagerly and very hopefully from their brown eyes, but 
 alwa3's returning from their quest disappointed. 
 
 Now what was the reason of their curious conduct ? 
 Well, I'll tell you in a few words. In this wigwam, which 
 was larger and finer than any in the village, lived a young 
 
 !>■•!, 
 
 Itl 
 
 :ii» 
 
78 
 
 A MTC-MAC CINDERELLA. 
 
 chief named Tco-ain (tlio jMoosi'), who was not only very 
 liandsonio and very rich, hut wlio — most a<:j<::jravatini>lv 
 attractive quality of all — possessed the power of niakiiig 
 liimself invisi1)lc at will, so that he could be seen onlv l»v 
 those to whom he was pleased to rov(>al himself. Taking- 
 these three thinos into account, and addinLf a fourth — to 
 wit, that Tee-am was generally understood to be meditat- 
 ing matrimony — is it any wonder that the dusky lasses 
 with seal-brown eyes and ebon locks took a particularly 
 lively interest in the wigwam on the Point ? 
 
 As was very natural under tlie circumstances, the pos- 
 sessions, merits, and designs of Tec-am foi-med the most 
 important item of village gossip, especially as he had made 
 it known that he w^ould select his wife after so curious, 
 not to say ungallant, a fashion ; for instead of his going 
 awooing auiong the girls, he proposed that the girls should 
 come awooing to him. Adorned in their bravest attire, 
 and looking their very prettiest, the maidens were to 
 present themselves before him, and the first one that could 
 see him plainly enough to describe what ho had on, ho 
 would marry. 'J'he way they went al)0ut it was as 
 follows : — They washed their faces, anointed their heads, 
 bedecked themselves with their bright(\st ornaments, and 
 then directed tlieir steps to the wigwam of Tee-am, ar- 
 ranging it so as to arrive there a litth^ before the hour of 
 the young chief's return from his daily luniting foray. 
 Tee-am 's sister, wh<i kept house for him, and of whom he 
 was very fond, would receive them graciously, and together 
 they would o-o down to the shore to await the hunter's 
 
 % 
 
 iv i.^ 
 
A MIC- MAC CINDERELLA, 
 
 79 
 
 coming. Presently a fine canoo would be seen gliding 
 swiftly over the lake's calm surface. Eagerly the maidens 
 peer through the gathering shadows ; but the canoe seems 
 impelled by magic, for no human hand is visible. As it 
 nears the shore the sister asks, — 
 
 " Nemeeyok richigunum ? " (D(i yon see my brother ?) 
 
 Every eye is strained in the direction of the canoe, and 
 some over-eager maiden — imagination coming to the aid 
 of desire — would perhaps pretend she could see its mys- 
 tci-ious occupant. 
 
 " Coo-goo-way wisko-book-sich ? " (Of what is liis car- 
 rying-strap made ?) is then asked. 
 
 This was a poser. But a luck}^ guess might possibly hit 
 the mark ; so the aspirant for the chief's hand would make 
 answer that it was a piece of raw hide, or withe, or some- 
 thing else that had been known to be applied to such a use. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " the sister would reply softly, but crushing 
 out all hope. " Let us go liome. You have not seen my 
 brother." 
 
 And so they would go back to the wigwam, where, a 
 little later, they would bo tantalized by seeing the sister 
 tak'ing a load of game apparently from the air, and a pair 
 (»L moccasins from feet that obstinatoly refused to be vis- 
 ible. Thus they were convinced that there was no decep- 
 tion — that Tee-am was really present, although they could 
 not see him. One after another the village maidens had 
 tried their luck " Moose-hunting," as they callccl it ; but all 
 had failed alike to catch ev^en a glimpse of the provoking 
 master of the wiyfwam on the Point. 
 
 
 
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 4 MIC-MAC CINDERELLA. 
 
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 ]\rattei'.s liad gone on \\\ tliis unsatisfactory fashion for 
 some time, and the fastidicnis Tee-am hid fair to be an old 
 bachelor, Avlien lie was saved from so sad a fate in tlie \va\' 
 T sliall now proceed to relate. Near the centre of the vil- 
 lage stood a largo wigwam, in which dwelt a widower who 
 had three daughters, the eldest of whom was a tall, fine- 
 looking girl; the second a medium-sized, rather plain girl; 
 and the 3'oungest a short, slight, delicate little creature, 
 with a pretty, pleading face, wdio was despised by her big 
 sister, and very cruelly treated by her, because she seemed 
 so weak and useless. In fact, poor Oo-chig-e-asque led a 
 wretched life of it ; for her sister, who was of course mis- 
 tress of the tent, would lay far heavier tasks upon her 
 than she could possibly perform, and then if they were not 
 done, would beat her most unmercifully, and sometimes 
 even burn her with brands from the fire. When her 
 father, who, to tell the truth, was but an inditl'ercnt sort 
 of a parent, would find her covered with burns and l)ruises, 
 and ask the meaning of it, the elder sister would reply 
 that she had fallen into the fire, or tripped over a tree 
 I'oot, or something of that kind ; and neither Oo-chig-c-asque 
 nor the second sister dared contradict her, they were T)oth 
 so mucli afraid of her strong hands. So this shameful 
 state of aflairs continued until the poor girl's condition was 
 most pitiable; for her hair was singed off close to her 
 head, her face and body scarred Mith burns and bruises, 
 an<l her back bent with toil it was not strong enough to 
 bear. 
 
 C)f course the two elder sisters had been amonu' the can- 
 
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A MIC-MAC CINDERELLA. 
 
 8 1 
 
 (lidates foi- Teo-aui's hand ; and, proud as they were of their 
 good looks and of their finery, botli liad failed utterly to 
 
 WK AKK DIHl.(iVKIir,l) A r I.Asr, UK SVYS. 
 
 see the mysterious chief. Tlicir despised little sister knew 
 of their going only too well, Tor her pei-seciitor gave her a 
 wicked beating when she came home disappointed, by way 
 
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 82 
 
 A MIC-MAC CINDERELLA. 
 
 of working off' lior ill-hunionr. One day, wlien Oo-chig-e- 
 asque was sitting alone in the wigwam weeping over her 
 hard fate, the thought suddenly flashed into her mind-- 
 why should .s7ie not try her fortune at Moose-hunting ? It 
 seemed ahsurd, of course, but it could hardly make things 
 any worse ; and even though Tee-am would not think her 
 worth mariying, he might in some way not very clear to 
 the poor girl's troubled mind shield her from her sister's 
 cruelty. 
 
 Oo-chig-e-asque had no fine clothes to put on. A few 
 beads given her by a compassionate squaw were her only 
 ornaments. But this did not deter her. Gathering- a 
 quantity of birch-bark, she fashioned for herself an odd, 
 misshapen gown, that was ill-fitting enough to give even 
 an Indian modiste " a turn ; " an old pair of her father's 
 moccasins were soaked to soften them, and drawn over lior 
 bruised feet ; and then, with a queer head-dress to hide her 
 singed poll, and her scanty beads arranged to the best ad- 
 vantage, she set off quietly one afternoon toward the camp 
 on the Point. Her big sister, seeing the direction she was 
 taking, screamed after her to come back ; but she only has- 
 tened her steps forward. The people of the village stared 
 rudely at her as she passed, and, divining her purpose, 
 hooted derisivol}- -ifter her; but she kept steadily on, and 
 ])aid no heed to them. Her whole heart was in her enter- 
 prise, and slui felt as though she would die rather than 
 tui'ii back. At leno-th she reaches Tee-am's lodo-e. Tee- 
 am's sister comes to the dooi", and receives her pleasantly. 
 At the proper time she conducts her to the landing-i)lace, 
 
A MIC-MAC CINDERELLA. 
 
 83 
 
 wliere they await the hiintor'.s return, the sister soothing 
 her visitor's throbbing pnlse by gentle inquiries as to lier 
 life and kindly sympathy for her woes. Just at dusk a 
 canoe conies toward tlieni, shooting swiftly over the water, 
 jind the sister says, — 
 
 "That's my brother's canoe, (.^an you see liim ?" 
 " Yes," murmurs Oo-chig-e-asque, her heart beating high 
 with liope. 
 
 " Of what, then, is his carr^'ing-strap made ? " 
 " Muncwan," is the quick reply. " It is a piece of rain- 
 bow." 
 
 " Very good," responds the sister, with a brilliant smile. 
 " You liave indeed seen my brotlier. Let us go home and 
 prepare for him." 
 
 So they hasten brck to the wigwam, Oo-chig-e-asque's 
 heart palpitating betwixt delight at her success and anxiety 
 lest Tee-am, when he found what an insignificant little 
 creature she really was, might refuse to keep his promise 
 to marry the givl who should first be able to see him. As 
 soon as they reach the tent the sister proceeds to prepare 
 her visitor for the nuptial cereuKjny, and the young girl 
 gives herself unhesitatingly into her hands. The uncouth 
 birch-bavk dress is stripped oil' and flung into the fire, and 
 a handsome robe, richly adornec^ with l)eads, takes its 
 place. VwxQ, spi-ing water is bi-ought, and as the kind 
 .sister dasiies it o\er the girl's face, and rubs the scarred 
 features softly with her hands, lo ! every scar and spot and 
 blemish vanishes, and the face comi's out fair and beautiful 
 as it never was before. Realizing tiu^ wondrous chansxe. 
 
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84 
 
 A MIC-MAC CINDERELLA. 
 
 the young" girl utters an exclamation of delight ; then 
 checks herself, and puts her hand to her head. 
 
 " Ah ! " she says sadly, " I have no hair. Tee-am ^vill 
 despise me when he sees I have no hair." 
 
 " Never fear, little one," the sister answers reassuringly, 
 and, passing her hands over the singed and frizzled hair, 
 behold another marvel ! for it springs out in richer pro- 
 fusion than ever before, and falls in long thick tresses 
 down the back of Oo-chig-e-asque, now too happy to speak. 
 Catching it up, the sister coils it deftly round the young 
 girl's head ; and then, just as the toilet is complete, and 
 radiant with joy, hope, and beauty Oo-chig-e-asque stands 
 in the centre of the lodge, Tee-am comes boun'bng in with 
 his load of game. At sight of the charming girl before 
 him he stops short, and looks inquiringly at his sister. 
 Then the situation dawns upon him. 
 
 " Way-jool-koos " (We are discovered at last), he says, 
 with a bright smile, taking the young girl's hand. 
 
 "Yes, brother, your wife has come at last," replies the 
 sister, " and is she not a beauty ? " 
 
 So Tee-am and Oo-chig-e-asque were married, and, like 
 the heroes and heroines of all true fairy tales, lived happily 
 ever after. 
 
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 \vi 
 
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COD-FISHI.Vfi ON THE BANKS OF NEWFOUNDLAND. 
 
 BLUE-NOSE FISHER FOLK. 
 
 SCiVTTERED up and down the rocky, foain-fiinged 
 shore of Nova Scotia, sometimes standing out bravely 
 upon a promontory that projects into the very midst ol" the 
 breakers, sometimes nestling away cosily in the curve of a 
 quiet ba\', the white cottages of the hard}'' fisher folk give 
 touches of warmth and life to a scone that would other- 
 wise be one of unredeemed desolation. 
 
 They are not very imposing edifices, and viewed from 
 the respectful distance which the dangers of that inhospit- 
 
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 BLUE- NOSE FISHER FOLK. 
 
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 able coast compel tlic passing sliip to keep, tlioy sccni 
 still smaller than is really tlio case ; but they arc all 
 homes, and in their two or three cramped rooms boys 
 and girls have been born and bred, the young people made 
 love and mated, and the old people closed their eyes in 
 the last long sleep, as generation has succeeded generation. 
 
 So it is no wonder that the lads who thence go forth 
 into distant parts of the world, as many of thorn do, find 
 their hearts turnin"; longiniily back to the little cottager bv 
 the sea, and that they often return to spend their last 
 years in the old pliieo. 
 
 Voyaging along the coast some lovely summer afternoon, 
 and from your comfortable chaii' on the steamer's decl: 
 watching these pretty cottages with their black roofs and 
 white sides coming into view as point after point is opened 
 out, and noting how trim and secure they seem, and the 
 glorious prospect they command from the windows which 
 look out from either side the central door, like sleepless 
 eyes, it is easy to imagine that the fishermen's sons must 
 have a fine, free, healthy life of it, and be far better oil' 
 than the boys in the dusty, noisy, over-ci'owded cities. 
 
 Well, no doubt they are better off in some respects. 
 'J'hey have plenty of fre.sli air and sunshine, and room to 
 grow in, while nothing could be more wholesome than their 
 food of fish and potatoes. But their life is a hard one, 
 nevertheless, and I doubt if many city -bred lads would be 
 eager to exchange with them, could they first have a year's 
 experience of it. 
 
 If the mackerel, herring, cod, and haddock upon which 
 
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 hoo| 
 
 the 
 
 woil 
 
BLUE-NOSE EI SUE K EOLK. 
 
 87 
 
 the ilslicr folk rlcpend for their living-, were inoro rco-iilar 
 ill their habits, and turned up at the same place at the 
 .same time every year, so that the men with the nets and 
 hooks could count upon their harvests as tho men with 
 the scythes and hoes can upon theirs, the fisherman's lot 
 would be a fairly comfortable one. 
 
 But there is nothing in this world more uncertain than 
 fish. Not the slightest reliance can be placed upon them. 
 They are here to-day, and off somewhere else to-morrow. 
 One season, school after school of mackerel will pour into 
 the little bay where Norman Hays and John IMackesey and 
 George Brown have their fishing " berths," as the area as- 
 signed to each man is called, and fill the seines of these 
 lucky fellows to repletion again and again as fast as they 
 can spread them. 
 
 Then perhaps one, two, three seasons will pass without 
 enough fish putting in an appearance to make one good haul. 
 
 The mackerel catching is the most interesting as it is the 
 most profitable phase of the fisherman's toil, and for both 
 reasons the boys like it tlic best, although from its being 
 at the same time the most uncertain in its results, tliey 
 know very well it cannot be depended upon for a living. 
 
 The season for these beautiful and delicious fish begins 
 about the end of June, and so soon as it is time for them to 
 appear, the highest points along the coast are taken possession 
 of by men and boys, wlio stay there all day long watching 
 intently the surface of the sea below them for tho first 
 sign of the silver scales which, when caught, can be turned 
 into silver coins. 
 
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 BLUE-NOSE EIS/fEK FOLK. 
 
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 It is ot'ti'ii loiif;' and wofiry work tliis watching. Day 
 succeeds day witliont bringing anytliing ; but tlu'ough 
 scorching .sun or soaking rain, tine weather or foggy weather, 
 the look-outs patiently persevere. At last some bright 
 morning, when the sea seems still asleep. Jack Hays' keen 
 young eyes descry a curious ripple on the water far beneath 
 his eyrie. 
 
 His heart gives a throb, and his pulses beat like trip- 
 hammers, but he is afraid at first to shout, for fear it is 
 only a morning zephyr. Shading his eyes with his hand, 
 and fairly quivering with excitement, he gazes intently for 
 one moment more, and then shouting, " A school ! a school I" 
 at the top of his strong young voice, he goes bounding 
 down the hill-side like a loosened boulder, till he reaches 
 the cluster of cottages fai' below. 
 
 In an instant all is activity and bustle. The men spring 
 into the boats lying ready at the little wharves, the boys 
 tumble in pell-mell after them, the wives and daughters 
 fling their aprons over their heads to keep off the sun, and 
 run out to the end of the wharves, or climb up on the 
 flakes, so that they may see as much as possible. 
 
 In a minute more the boats are heading for the mackerel 
 as fast as brawny arms can drive them. Half a mile away 
 the calm blue water is dark and disturbed for a space about 
 the size of an ordinary tennis-court ; it looks, in fact, as if 
 it were boiling and bubbling just there, though all around 
 is still and smooth. 
 
 Toward this spot the boats are hurried. Presently they 
 reach it. Then they stop. One of the smaller boats goes 
 
BLUE- NOSE ETSHER EOI.K. 
 
 89 
 
 up to tlio long fiat-bottomed, liigh-stciiinu'd craft that car- 
 ries tlie seine, and takes one end of tlie net on board. 
 Everything is done quietly, for the fish are easily fright- 
 ened, and if alarmed ^vill sijdv right down into tlie deep 
 water, where they cannot be got at. 
 
 As quickly as sinewy arms can send her along, the small 
 boat describes a circle round the fish, that continue to frisk 
 about, all unconscious of their peril. 
 
 At length a shout of Joy announces that connection has 
 been made. The two ends of the seine are joined, and, if 
 it be a purse-seine, the bottom is drawn together also, and 
 tlien the tired, excited fishermen can take a little rest, and 
 they try to guess how many barrels this " stop " of mack- 
 erel will make. Jack Hays and the rest of the boys can 
 hardly contain themselves with delight, for won't they all 
 have a trip up to the city so soon as the fish are ready 
 to be sold, and these trips are the great events of their 
 life. 
 
 Having got the fish nicely caught inside the seine, the 
 next thing is to get them out acfain. The bi"; net with its 
 precious load is drawn as near the shore as possible, the 
 boats crowd round it, and a busy scene ensues, as the 
 blue-backed, silver-bellied beauties are taken from the 
 incshes, and piled up in the boats until these little craft 
 can hold no more. 
 
 In a little while all the fish are safely on shore, and then 
 comes the splitting and salting, in which not onlj^ the h^oys, 
 but the girls and their mothers too, take a hand, for the 
 more quickly it is done the better. 
 
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 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
 
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90 
 
 BLUE-NOSE FISHER FOLK. 
 
 The dexterity shown by the workers is astonishing. 
 Holding a sharp knife in their right hand, they stand be- 
 fore a pile of glistening mackerel. With one motion they 
 seize a fine fat fellow, with another they split him open from 
 head to tail, with a third they despoil him of his entire 
 digestive apparatus, w^th a fourth they put in its place 
 a handful of salt, with a fifth fling him upon a pile beside 
 them, and the whole operation is done in the twinkling of 
 an eye. 
 
 To see the girls at this- -and none are more expert than 
 they — takes a good deal of the romance out of one's ideas 
 of fisher-maidens ; but it cannot be helped. They cannot 
 afford to bo romantic, or look picturesque. Their life is 
 too hard for that kind of amusement. 
 
 In the catching ot mackerel and herring there is not 
 much danger, and the fishermen need not go far from 
 homo. But it is diflferent with the cod and haddock and 
 hake. To get these big follows you must go out upon the 
 Banks, as those strange, shallow areas in the Atlantic 
 Ocean are called; and going out upon the Banks means 
 being away for long weeks at a time, and exposed to many 
 dangers. 
 
 Storms are frequent there, and the waves run mountain 
 high, so that stanch and trim as the fishing craft are, and 
 thoroughly expert their masters, hardly a season passes 
 without the loss of a Nancy Bell or God-Seeker with all on 
 board. Often, alas ! do 
 
 " The women go weeping and wringing their hands, 
 For those who will never come back to the town.'' 
 
BLUE-NOSE FISHER FOLK. 
 
 91 
 
 Another danger ever present, ever indeed growing greater, 
 is that of being run down some foggy night by the great 
 ocean steamers that are thronging past in increasing numbers. 
 
 Picture to yourself a dense, dark night, ./hen you can 
 hardly see your hand before your face ; a little schooner 
 tossing at anchor on the Banks, all but one of her crew 
 asleep in their bunks. Suddenly there falls upon the 
 solitary watcher's ear a sound that thrills him with terror : 
 it is the throbbing of mighty engines and the onward rush 
 of an ocean greyhound as she spurns the foaming water 
 from her bows. 
 
 Springing upon the poop he shouts with all his might, 
 the crew below leap from their berths, and though only 
 half awake join him in the cry. 
 
 But it is of no avail. The mast-head light is seen by 
 the steamer's look-out too late to change her course. There 
 is a splintering crash, the iron monster feels a slight shock, 
 hardly enough to waken the lightest sleeper in her state- 
 rooms, and the sharp prow cuts through the little schooner 
 as though it were but another wave. 
 
 Then the frenzied shrieks of strong men in their agony 
 ring out upon the midnight air ; then all is silent again, and 
 tlie steamer speeds on to her destination, while to another 
 liome in Herring Cove comes the dreadful cx2)eriencc of 
 which the poet says, — 
 
 " IIow much of iiinnlHKKV.s wasted strength, 
 Of wonian'H inisery, — 
 What breaking hearts might Hwell tho cry, 
 They're dear fish to me. ' 
 
 Yet it is the ambition of every boy at Herring Cove 
 
# 
 
 92 
 
 BLUE-NOSE FISHEK FOLK. 
 
 or Shad Bay to have a share in a Banker, or, better still, 
 to own one all by himself ; and to this he looks forward, 
 just as city boys ao to being bank presidents or judges or 
 editors of newspapers. 
 
 Hard work, much danger, a little schooling, and still 
 less playing is the summary of a fisher-boy's life. It makes 
 him very healthy, brown, and strong, but it never makes 
 him rich. The most he can do is to earn enough to build 
 and furnish a cottage when he marries, and provide plain 
 food and coarse clothing for the family that soon springs 
 up around him. 
 
 Now and then — that is, whenever he has fish to sell — he 
 goes up to the city ; and this is his only holiday. While 
 still a boy he generally behaves himself well enough on 
 these visits, but, growing older, he does not always grow 
 wiser, I am sorry to say, and I have often seen sad-faced 
 wives rowing the heavy boat wearily home, while their 
 husbands lay in the stern-sheets in a drunken stupor. 
 
 I 
 
 p 
 
 Hill 
 
LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 (A CHRISTMAS STORY.) 
 
 I 
 
 WISH you had taken my advice and stayed at the 
 shanty, Harry." 
 
 The speaker was a stalwart young man, so closely 
 wrapped in a blue blanket capote that only a portion of 
 his face showed itself, and the one addressed was a boy of 
 sixteen, similarly accoutred. 
 
 " I felt more than half-afraid oi' this storm overtaking 
 us," the young man continued ; ' and now we're in a 
 pretty fix. I can't imagine how we'll ever reach the 
 depot." 
 
 There was something so despondent in his tone that one 
 might have expected his words to exercise a dispiriting 
 effect upon his companion ; but, instead of that, Harry 
 answered brightly, — 
 
 " Reach the depot ! Of course we will ; and in good 
 time for our Christmas dinner, too ! You mustn't worry 
 on my account, Mr. Maynard. If anything should happen, 
 it would be all my own fault, you know. You wouldn't be 
 the least bit to blame." 
 
 Mr. Maynard shook his head negatively. 
 

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 94 
 
 LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 " It's very good of you to say so, Harry, but I can't 
 help feeling responsible all the same. Oh !" he cried, with 
 a gesture of irritated protest against the situation, " what 
 a plague this snow is ! Surely we had enough of it 
 already, and didn't need this storm." 
 
 John Maynard was the bush superintendent on one of 
 the great timber limits of Booth and Bronson, the million- 
 aire lumbermen of Canada. 
 
 The duty devolved upon him of driving about from one 
 " shanty " (as the permanent camps of the log-cutters are 
 called) to another, taking account of the work done, and 
 giving directions as to the bunches of timber next to be 
 attacked. 
 
 This was a very arduous occupation, entailing as it did 
 long and lonely drives through forest roads, passable only 
 in winter, across the broad bosoms of frozen lakes, and 
 along the winding courses of ice-bound rivers. For this 
 purpose he had a pair of powerful horses and a low, strong 
 sleigh, made altogether of wood, that had accommodation 
 for just two persons and some baggage. 
 
 As a rule he made these journeys alone, but this winter 
 he had been favoured with a companion in Harry Bronson. 
 the eldest son of a member of the firm, who had asked 
 permission to spend the winter at the " shanties." 
 
 His request had been readily granted, for he would have 
 to take his father's place in the business in due time, and 
 the more thoroughly he knew its details the better. Con- 
 sequently Mr. Bronson was very glad to let him go, while 
 Harry rejoiced at <retting away from the confinement of 
 
LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 95 
 
 the office, and at the prospect of having some exciting 
 experiences before he returned. 
 
 So far he had been having a very good time. John 
 Maynard was as pleasant a companion as he was a com- 
 petent bush superintendent, and, while going the round of 
 the shanties, there were many chances for shots at part- 
 ridges or rabbits, and always the exciting possibility of 
 encountering a bear. 
 
 Then at the shanties their welcome was always so warm, 
 and the French - Canadian shantymen were so amusing 
 with their exhaustless fund of song and dance and story, 
 that Harry never knew what i'i was to feel dull for a 
 moment. 
 
 Christmas week found him at the shanty on the Ope- 
 ongo — the one that stood fartherifc away of all from the 
 depot at which Maynard made his headquarters, and to 
 which it was his intention to return in time to celebrate 
 Christmas there. 
 
 The superintendent was particularly anxious to get back 
 by that time, because, having completed a round of the 
 shanties, he could leave them unvisited for a fortnight or 
 so, and he proposed to spend Christmas week in Montreal, 
 where he had many friends. 
 
 Harry on his part was hardly less anxious to get to the 
 depot ; for, although he did not intend going any further, 
 he had been promised lots of fun there by the clerk in 
 charge, and a lirst-class Christmas dinner into the bargain. 
 
 Accordingly, when certain infallible signs of a change 
 for the worse in the weather, which had hitherto been 
 
: 
 
 ; 
 
 I 
 
 96 
 
 LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 almost perfect, made their appearance, and Maynard, willing 
 to take any risk himself, but reluctant to expose Harry to 
 danger, suggested that the boy should remain at the Ope- 
 ongo shanty until the threatened storm passed, and then 
 get back to the depot by one of the ordinary teams, Harry 
 would not hear of it. 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Maynard," said he stoutly. " If you can 
 stand the storm, I can too. I'm going with you." 
 
 Clearly enough the superintendent would have to either 
 allow Harry to accompany him or stay at the shanty him- 
 self. He could not accept the latter alternative, so he 
 replied, — 
 
 " Very well then, my boy, we'll start ; and if bad weather 
 catches us, we'll have to do the best we can." 
 
 The distance between the Opeongo shanty and the depot, 
 as the crow flies, was fifty miles ; but the circuitous route 
 that was necessary in order to avoid ranges of rocky hills 
 and impassable gullies made it full half as long again, and, 
 in view of the state of the road, Maynard calculated that 
 two days might be required to make their destination. 
 Accordingly they set out in the morning of the second day 
 before Christmas. 
 
 It hardly needed the practised eye of a wood-ranger to 
 foretell a coming change in the weather. 
 
 The sun's bright face was hidden behind a dense veil of 
 sullen clouds ; the air, that had been so crisp and clear, 
 seemed dank and heavy like a dungeon's ; and both man 
 and beast moved about in a listless way, as if every move- 
 ment was an effort. 
 
LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 97 
 
 More than once the superintendent's mind misgave him 
 ere they had gone many miles. He was naturally a 
 cautious, far-seeing man, not disposed to run unnecessary 
 risks, although utterly regardless of personal peril in any 
 matter of duty. 
 
 Not that he felt any concern on his own account ; but 
 he would have felt much easier in his mind had Harry 
 been persuaded to stay at the .shanty. 
 
 Yet how could he reasonably expect that, when he him- 
 self was pushing on to the depot ? 
 
 Harry's argument, that if the superintendent could stand 
 the storm lie could also, was not easy to answer, and it 
 prevailed. 
 
 " If this confounded road was only in better shape, we 
 might get there to-night," said Maynard impatiently that 
 afternoon as the sleigh slowly toiled up a steep ascent, the 
 horses sinking above their fetlocks in the fine dry snow at 
 every step. 
 
 Had their way been as well broken as a city street they 
 might indeed have accomplished this feat, but under the 
 circumstances the best they could hope for was to reach 
 the depot early on Christmas eve. 
 
 Harry, understanding that ho was the chief object of the 
 superintendent's concern, felt it incumbent upon him to 
 take as hopeful a view of matters as possible, so hi re- 
 sponded in his cheeriest tone, — 
 
 " Oh, we'll get there to-morrow afternoon right enough ! 
 We're more than half way to Wolf Hollow now, aren't 
 we ? " 
 
 (804) 7 
 
 I 
 
98 
 
 LOST ON THE LIMITS, 
 
 " Yes, a good bit more ; but there's the snow beginning. 
 We must drive ahead as fast as we can. It'll soon be dark." 
 
 The horses accordingly were urged to the utmost speed 
 possible, and, by dint of some rather reckless driving, 
 Wolf Hollow was safely reached in the face of a blinding 
 snowstorm ere the darkness fell. 
 
 At this place there stood a shanty which had been 
 abandoned some years before, all the timber being cut in 
 the neighbourhood, and here Mr. Maynard proposed to 
 spend the night. 
 
 The building was found to be in good condition — quite 
 storm-proof, in fact — and it did not take long to gather an 
 abundant supply of firewood wherewith to expel the cold, 
 damp air that filled it. 
 
 The horses could not be left out, of course, exposed to 
 the pitiless storm, so they were allotted the farthest corner 
 of the long, low room. The sleigh, too, was brought inside 
 with all xts contents. 
 
 A substantial supper was prepared and enjoyed, the 
 horses were given a good feed of oats, and then both the 
 travellers being thoroughly tired, they fitted up one of the 
 bunks with the sleigh robes, and, so as to waste no heat, 
 lay down side by side, and were soon sound asleep. 
 
 At daybreak the superintendent got up and hastened to 
 see how matters looked outside. The prospect was any- 
 thing but cheering. 
 
 Snow had been falling heavily all night, and there 
 seemed no sign of its ceasing. All marks of the road were 
 completely obliterated, and it would evidently test to the 
 
LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 99 
 
 utmost his knowledge of woodcraft to keep in the right 
 track. 
 
 Such was the condition of affairs that called forth the 
 exclamation reported at tho beginning of this story. 
 
 However, there was nothing to gain by delay, so hardly 
 waiting to snatch a bite of food and to allow their horses 
 to finish their portion of oats, they harnessed up and drove 
 forth into the storm. 
 
 Even had the track been easily distinguishable, they 
 could not have made rapid progress, for the snow came in 
 big, blinding flakes that were very bewildering, and had 
 already covered the ground to a depth of nearly a foot. 
 
 By the aid of familiar landmarks, Mr. Maynard was 
 able for a time to direct their course accurately enough ; 
 but about mid-day they reached a wide lake which they 
 liad to cross, and here their real difficulties began. 
 
 The broad expanse of Loon Lake had presented a fine 
 playground for the wind, and upon it the snow was heaped 
 in vast drifts, far surpassing anything met with in the 
 woods, where the trees afforded protection. 
 
 In these drifts the horses and sleigh soon stuck so fast 
 that their extrication was evidently quite beyond the 
 power of the passengers. 
 
 There seemed no alternative but to abandon them to 
 their fate, and to continue the journey on snow-shoes, 
 which, fortunately, were lashed to the back of the sleigh. 
 
 Mr. Maynard felt sorely reluctant to desert his faithful 
 horses, but no time could be spared for unavailing regrets. 
 
 " Tliere's no help for it, Harry," he said resolutely. 
 
I* 
 
 i lili i 
 
 lOO 
 
 LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 " We'll have to leave them where they are. We cannot 
 get them out, and we've enough to do to look after our- 
 selves." 
 
 The poor creatures whinnied appealingly as their human 
 companions moved off, and made frantic efforts to follow, 
 but the remorseless snow-drift held them fast. 
 
 It was certainly a pity to leave two such fine animals 
 to perish, but yet what could be done ? 
 
 Striding along on the snow-shoes, in the use of which 
 they were both expert, the superintendent and Hariy 
 made better progress than they had been doing in the 
 sleigh, and now the chief anxiety was to hit the right spot 
 on the other side of the lake, where the road continued 
 through the woods. 
 
 On a clear day Mr. Maynard would have found little 
 difficulty in doing this, but in the midst of a blinding 
 snowstorm it was no easy task ; yet their very lives de- 
 pended upon its successful accomplishment. 
 
 When they reached the middle of the lake they were 
 dismayed to discover that the heavily - falling snow 
 shrouded not only the shore for which they were making, 
 but the one which they had left. They were absolutely 
 w^ithout a mark to guide them. 
 
 Here was an unexpected peril. Mr. Maynard halted 
 and strove to peer through the ominous obscurity of white, 
 but on every side it was the same. 
 
 " What are we to do now, Harry ? " he cried in a tone 
 of deep concern. " I can't make out our way at all." 
 
 By this time Harry's spirits, which had hitherto 
 
l * 
 
 hi 
 
 THE I'liOK CREATURES WHINNIED APPEALINULY. 
 
 Pagt too. 
 
 
 m 
 
 III 
 
 n« 
 
 4^..' 
 
 
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 li 
 
LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 103 
 
 been keeping up bravely, were beginning to fall, for 
 he was growing weary of the long struggle with the 
 storm. 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know," he responded ruefully. " I 
 suppose there is nothing else to do but to push ahead and 
 take our chances of hitting the shore somewhere." 
 
 " That's about all, Harry," was the superintendent's 
 reply. " Just rest a minute to get your breath, and then 
 we'll make a dash for it." 
 
 For a little space they stood still and silent, the mind of 
 each absorbed in anxious thought, and then Mr. Maynard 
 called out, — 
 
 " Come along now, Harry. Keep right in my tracks, 
 and I'll see if I can't make the shore all right." 
 
 For half-an-hour they toiled steadily onward, and well 
 it was for both that they had such skill in the use of 
 snow-shoes. Without them they could not have made a 
 hundred yards' her 1 vny, so heavy was the snow. Even as 
 it was, the hard \vui: told upon Harry, and presently'- he 
 had to call to his companion,- — 
 
 " Hold on a minute, Mr. Maynard ; I'm out of breath." 
 
 The superintendent stopped short and came back to 
 liim. 
 
 " Not played out already, are you, Harry ? " he asked, 
 peering anxiously into his face. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " and the boy made a gallant effort at a re- 
 assuring smile. " I just want to get my wind ; that's all. 
 This abominable storm nearly suffocates me." 
 
 As they rested again for a few minutes, the wind 
 
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 LOST ON THE LIMITS, 
 
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 suddenly shifted, parting the whirling snow to right and 
 left, and through the rift thus made, Mr. Maynard's keen 
 eyes caught a glimpse of a dark mass rising dimly into the 
 air a little more than a mile away. 
 
 With a shout of joy he slapped his companion upon the 
 back, crying, — 
 
 " Eagle Rock, Harry. See ! " and he pointed with a 
 quivering finger to the spectral appearance. " Once we make 
 that, I can find the road all right enough. Come along ! " 
 
 Cheered by the sight, which the next moment the snow- 
 curtain again hid from them, they pushed forward with 
 renewed energy. 
 
 It was terribly hard walking. Their snow-shoes sank 
 deep into the drifts at every step, and it was an effort 
 each time to release them. The afternoon was also waning 
 fast, and they had not more than an hour of daylight left 
 at best. Truly they were in desperate straits. 
 
 On they went over the drifts that seemed to be deter- 
 mined to bar their way, the superintendent straining his 
 eyes for another glimpse of Eagle Rock. At last, as Harry 
 was about once more to cry halt, his companion exclaimed 
 joyfully, — 
 
 " There's Eagle Rock, Harry ! I see it. We're making 
 straight for it. A few minutes more will take us there." 
 
 The cheering announcement revived the boy's failing 
 energies for another effort. He shut his lips upon the re- 
 quest for a rest, and doggedly tramped on after his guide. 
 
 Ten minutes more and they were at the foot of the 
 lofty crag called Eagle Rock, in a friendly recess of 
 
 mill 
 
LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 i°5 
 
 which they found welcome shelter from the furious 
 wind. 
 
 " Thank goodness ! " ejaculated Harry, throwing himself 
 wearily down upon a snow-bank, " we've got thus far 
 anyway. How many miles more, Mr. Maynard ? " 
 
 " About ten, Harry," was the answer, given in quite a 
 matter-of-fact tone. 
 
 " Ten ! " echoed Hariy in dismay. " I hoped it would 
 only be about five. I'll never do it in the w^orld." 
 
 " Oh yes, you will, my boy ! " replied Mr. Maynard. 
 " I'll help you you know." 
 
 To their vast relief the snow now began to abate, and 
 presently ceased falling altogether. 
 
 " That's something to be thankful for," said the super- 
 intendent. "Are you ready to start again ?" 
 
 " Go ahead," was the response. 
 
 But no sooner had one danger passed than another 
 presented itself. The light began to fail, for night was at 
 hand. 
 
 A ten-mile tramp on snow-shoes through a desolate 
 forest was not much to be desired under any circum- 
 stances. To accomplish it in the dark, tired as they both 
 felt already, was a feat the achieving of which seemed 
 more than doubtful. 
 
 Mr. Maynard had his misgivings, but he carefully con- 
 cealed them from his companion, and even started whistling 
 a lively march as he led the way along the faintly dis- 
 cernible road. 
 
 !Never will either of them ever forget that aw^ful tramp. 
 
 : F 
 
 M 
 
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 LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
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 !!;i 
 
 The night soon enfolded them, leaving only the scant 
 light of the glimmering stars for guidance. Every step 
 they took had to be carefully considered, lest they should 
 stray from the track and be hopelessly lost. 
 
 Again and again the silence through which they marched 
 was broken by the blood-curdling cry of the lynx or the 
 dismal howl of the wolf, seeking what they might devour. 
 
 The superintendent's rifle hung at his back, and Harry 
 had a good revolver ; but they prayed in their hearts that 
 they might have no occasion to use them. 
 
 Every little while they had to pause that the boy might 
 take a brief rest. Then on they went again. 
 
 Mile after mile of the dreary, toilsome way was slowly 
 yet steadily overcome, each one adding to poor Harry's 
 weariness, until he felt as if he must give up the struggle 
 and throw himself down in the snow to die. 
 
 But Mr. Maynard cheered him up and helped him, and 
 kept him going, knowing well that to give up really meant 
 death. 
 
 At last the exhausted boy sank down with a piteous 
 wail, — 
 
 " It's no use, Mr. Maynard, I can't take another step." 
 
 " Oh yes, you can, Harry ! " said the superintendent 
 soothingly ; '' just take a little rest, and then you'll be all 
 right." 
 
 While Harry rested he went on ahead a short distance, 
 for it seemed to him that they could not be very fur from 
 the depot. 
 
 Presently there came from him a glad hurrah, and run- 
 
LOST ON THE LIMITS. 
 
 107 
 
 ning back he put his arm around his companion, and 
 liclped him to his feet, exclaiming joyfully, — 
 
 " I can see a light, Harry. We're safe now. It's the 
 depot." 
 
 And he was right. They were within half a mile of 
 tlieir haven. Forgetting all their weariness, they put on 
 a gallant spurt, and in less than ten minutes were in the 
 midst of their friends, telling the story of their thrilling 
 experience. 
 
 All's well that ends well. The superintendent kept his 
 appointments in the city ; Harry had a royal Christmas 
 time with the clerks in the depot ,• and, happy to relate, the 
 horses W3re not lost, for a relief party that went out the 
 following morning with a big sledge found them still alive, 
 and brought them and the sleigh back to the depot, little 
 the worse for the long imprisonment in the snow-drift. 
 
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 •H 'I 
 
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A STRANGE HELPER. 
 
 <»->jfr^fJS«. '--K 
 
 ■i^;i ;•; 
 
 THERE'S nothing for it, Maggie, but to let the place 
 go. I've tried my best to raise the money, but 
 those that are willing to help a fellow haven't it to lend, 
 and those that have it ain't willing to help. It's mighty 
 hard lines, I tell you," and, with a groan of despair, Alec 
 M'Leod buried his head in his hands, as he leaned heavily 
 upon the table. 
 
 Hard lines it was, indeed, as no one knew better than 
 Moses Shearer, the money-lender, to w^hose conduct was 
 due Alec the miller's anguish of mind. He had chosen 
 that particular time for enforcing satisfaction of his claim, 
 because he understood that it could not be done without a 
 sale of the mill property ; and this was just what he 
 desired, as he intended to bid it in for himself. 
 
 It did seem a cruel thing for Mr. M'Leod to be sold out 
 of the snug, well-equipped mill that represented his whole 
 fortune ; and all for a debt of one hundred pounds, incurred 
 under special circumstances for which he was in no wise to 
 blame. 
 
 No wonder that he was sorely cast down, and that 
 gloom reigned in his household, which consisted of a de- 
 
A STRANGE HELPER. 
 
 109 
 
 voted wife and two children — Robert, the elder, a sturdy, 
 enterprising lad of fourteen, and Jessie, a sweet, fair-haired 
 lassie two years younger. They were all in the room 
 when the miller gave voice to his despair, and Rob, full of 
 sympathy, hastened to say something comforting, with all 
 the hopefulness of youth. 
 
 " Don't give up yet, father," said he. " The sale is more 
 than a week off, and you may be able to get the money 
 somehow before then." 
 
 Mr. M'Leod shook his head without raising it from his 
 hands. He had exhausted every available resource, and 
 saw no way in which help could come. He was not a 
 religious man, although of unblemished integrity of char- 
 acter, and had no faith to sustain him in his grievous trial ; 
 nor did his wife know how to lay hold upon God, and 
 claim the fulfilment of his promises. 
 
 In this they both had much to learn from their own 
 children, for, thanks to sound teaching in Sunday school, 
 Rob and Jessie believed in the prayer of faith. They 
 believed God was always ready and willing to respond in 
 his wisdom to the petitions of his children, and when they 
 learned of their father's trouble, their thoughts took the 
 same direction. 
 
 That night, when Rob went up to his room, he found 
 Jessie there. 
 
 " O Rob ! " she hastened to say, " I've been waiting for 
 you to come." 
 
 " What do you want to do, Jessie ? " inquired Rob. 
 
 " Why, Rob, you know when father told us of his 
 
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 A STRANGE HELPER. 
 
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 11 m 
 
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 trouble, I made up my mind to ask God to help him out 
 of it. What is that in the Bible about God doing anything 
 that t\\ o of his people agree to ask for ? " 
 
 Proud of his memory, Rob promptly repeated the verse : 
 " If two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything 
 that they shall ask, it shall be done for them." 
 
 " Yes, that's it ! " exclaimed Jessie. " Now then, Rob, 
 can't we agree to ask God to help father to pay off that 
 dreadful Mr. Shearer ? " 
 
 " Of course we can," responded Rob heartily ; " and we'll 
 do it right away." ' 
 
 So down on their knees they went, and each in turn 
 presented an earnest, simple petition to God that aid should 
 be granted their father in the present emergency. When 
 they rose their faces were radiant. 
 
 " It will be all right now, won't it, Rob ? " said Jessie, as 
 she went to her own room. / 
 
 The following day passed without any sign of an 
 answer, and so did the next. Rob, boy-like, began to grow 
 impatient, but Jessie was more trustful. Each night they 
 renewed their united requests. 
 
 On the third night Rob, the window of whose room 
 overlooked the mill-pond, happening to awake about mid- 
 night, thought he heard a most unusual splashing noise 
 coming from the pond. Sitting up in bed, and listening 
 attentively, he asked himself : — 
 
 " What can it be ? Has somebody fallen into the pond ( 
 No, it can't be that, or there would be cries for help. Oh ! 
 it's only some old cow that's fooling around." 
 
A STRANGE HELPER 
 
 III 
 
 He was about to accept this explanation and settle clown 
 to sleep again, when there was added to the frantic splash- 
 ing a hoarse bellow such as no domestic animal ever uttered. 
 
 " I must sec what that is," said he to himself. So out 
 of bed he jumped, hurried on his clothes, and slipping 
 quietly out of the house, hastened across the yard to the 
 luill-platform, from which he could command a view of the 
 whole pond. 
 
 It was a bright, clear night, with the moon at the full, 
 and the still w^aters of the pond reflected its silver rays 
 like a huge mirror. At first the boy could see nothing to 
 account for the strange noises he had heard, but presently 
 he discovered a big creature, whose exact nature he could 
 not make out, in the deepest part of the pond, where, sur- 
 rounded by the floating logs which had rendered futile all 
 its efforts to extricate itself, it was, for the moment, resting 
 ([uietly as though exhausted. 
 
 Rob's appearance upon the platform evidently aroused 
 the creature to fresh exertions, and it proceeded to fling 
 itself about with reckless fury, in the course of which its 
 head emerged from the shadow into a broad band of light, 
 and with a cry of astonishment Rob, who had been bending 
 over the edge of the platform, sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Why, it's a moose ! " he exclaimed ; " and a monster 
 one, too. And I'm going to catch him." Then looking 
 down at the imprisoned animal, he added : " Just stay 
 there, my beauty ; I'll be back in a jiffy to look after you." 
 
 Darting over to the house he quickly aroused his father, 
 who, as soon as he had assured himself that his son's story 
 
 
TT 
 
 i; 
 
 112 
 
 A STRANGE HELPER. 
 
 I 
 
 I H 
 
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 if 
 
 ,,! 
 
 ili*U..il 
 
 was correct, hastened to call up some of the neighbours. 
 He did not stop to think what he would do with the 
 moose when he had him safely secured. He was merely 
 glad of a diversion that would help him to forget his 
 troubles for a while. 
 
 But Rob already had a .scheme worked out in his mind, 
 of which, however, he intended lo say nothing until the 
 capture had been .successfully accomplished. Then he 
 would let it be known. 
 
 The neighbours responded readily to Mr. M'Leod's sum- 
 mons, and in a quarter of an hour half-a-dozen men were 
 upon the scene, some armed with pitchforks, others with 
 stakes, and all eager to have a .share in the honours of the 
 capture. 
 
 Many and various were the suggestions as to the best 
 plan for getting the animal out of the pond uninjured, but 
 no sooner had Mr. M'Leod offered his than it was unani- 
 mously adopted as the best. 
 
 By pushing away the logs a clear space could be made 
 leading to tho incline up which the logs were drawn to 
 meet their fate at the saw's teeth, and the miller's idea 
 was to lasso the moose by the antlers, drag the creature 
 through the water to the foot of the incline, then attach 
 the rope to the chain for drawing up the logs, and turn on 
 the water-power. 
 
 The strongest animal that ever stood on four legs could 
 not resist the tug of the chain, and thus the moose would 
 be drawn up on the platform, and kept there, a safe pris- 
 oner, until he could be removed to the barn. 
 
A STRANGE HELPER 
 
 1 1 
 
 Mr. M'Lcofl hfifl little difficulty in fretting the rope 
 fastened to the big branching antlers, and not much more 
 in towing his captive around to the foot of the incline. 
 
 CAPTl'RINO THE MOOSE. 
 
 But then came the rub. The monarch of the forest fought 
 frantically against being drawn out of the water, and it 
 seemed as if he might kill himself in his desperate efforts 
 for freedom. 
 
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 A STRANGE HELPER. 
 
 
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 There %Yas no resisting the inexorable strain of the loir- 
 chain, however, and foot by foot he was compelled to ascend 
 the incline until he reached the platform. Then the power 
 was shut off, and Mr. M'Leod decided that it was best to 
 allow the great creature to stay where he was until day- 
 light. 
 
 The men all went back to their beds, but Rob remained. 
 He did not want to leave the prize which had thus 
 strangely fallen into his hands, and which he hoped to 
 make signally helpful in his father's trouble. So he chose 
 a corner of the platform where he could keep the moose in 
 full view, and composed himself to wait for the morning. 
 
 As he sat there his heart went up in gratitude to God, 
 for right before him had he not the answer to the prayer 
 he and Jessie had united in offering ? 
 
 With the dawn Mr. M'Leod and the other men returned, 
 and by dint of much shouting, flourishing of pitchforks, 
 and tugging of ropes, the moose, after many furious 
 attempts at breaking aw^ay, was at length safely convoyed 
 to the barn, and securely fastened up in such a manner 
 that he could do himself no hurt, struggle and kick as he 
 might. 
 
 " Hip, hip, hurrah ! " shouted Rob as the big door closed 
 with a bang, and he flung himself against it to make sure 
 that it was shut tight. " We've got him all right enough. 
 He can't get out of there until we want him." 
 
 "And now that you have got him, Robby," said the 
 miller, laying his hand affectionately on the boy's shoulder, 
 " perhaps you'll tell us what you are going to do with him." 
 
A STRANGE HELPER. 
 
 "5 
 
 Up to this point Rob liad kept his own counsel, because 
 liis Scotch shrewdness told him it would be best to do so 
 niitil tlie capture was successfully etlbcted. But now there 
 was no longer need for reserve. 
 
 " You remember that j^entleman who was here huntinix 
 last winter, don't you, father ? " said he, looking up eagerly 
 into Mr. M'Leod's face. 
 
 " You mean Professor Owen from New York." 
 
 " Yes. Well, you ki. w he said he'd give a hundred 
 pounds for a full-grown moose alive ; and now you nuist 
 wiito and toll him you've got a beauty for him, and to 
 come along and get it." 
 
 The miller's face became radiant as his son spoke. He 
 now understood what had been in Rob's mind, and why he 
 had shown such intense anxiety to secure the moose un- 
 injured. 
 
 " God bless you, my boy 1 " he exclaimed, throwing his 
 nnns around his neck, for the revulsion of feeling broke 
 down his characteristic reserve. " I see what you've been 
 (hiving at. You always were a bright lad, and now, 
 maybe, you're going to save me from ruin I won't wait 
 to write Professor Owen ; I'll telegraph him. He left me 
 his address so that I might let him know when the hunt- 
 insj was jnfood." 
 
 Mounting his best horse, Mr. M'Leod hastened to the 
 village, and sent this despatch to the professor : " Have a 
 splendid live moose in my barn. Do you want him ? " 
 
 Before many hours the reply came : " Am coming for 
 him by first train" 
 
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 A STRANGE HELPER. 
 
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 The following evening Professor Owen appeared. When 
 he saw the moose he fairly shouted with delight. 
 
 " A perfect specimen, and in the very prime of life," he 
 cried. " I'll give you a hundred pounds for him on the 
 spot. AVill that be right ? " 
 
 The offer was gladly accepted ; and as soon as the 
 necessary arrangements could be made, the moose was taken 
 away to become the chief attraction in a famous zoological 
 garden. 
 
 On the day before the sheriff's sale Mr. M'Leod, greatly 
 to the money-lender's chagrin, paid hii claim in full, and 
 cleared his property from all encumbrance. 
 
 That night they had a praise-meeting at the mill ; for 
 when Mr. M'Leod \\^as told about Rob and Je 3ie praying 
 together for his deliverance from the grasp of Moses 
 Shearer his heart was deeply stirred, and he joined in 
 thanking God who had thus signally answered the chil- 
 dren's petitions. Not only so, but both he and his wife 
 were moved to withhold no longer from God's service, and 
 they became active, happy members of the church. 
 
 As for Rob and Jessie, their faith v/as wonderfully 
 strengthened, and often afterwards the recollection of this 
 incident helped them to be trustful in the midst of many 
 difficulties. 
 
FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM. 
 
 '»~:>jf^«-*^^ — 
 
 Jii- 
 
 THE Canadian Pacific train, speeding swiftly on toward 
 Winnipeg, had just dashed over an iron bridge 
 which threw its audacious spider-web across a foaming 
 torrent. Pointing down at the tumbling water beneath, 
 one of the men in the smoking compartment of a palace 
 car exclaimed, — - 
 
 " I'd like to try that rapid in my Bice Lake." 
 
 " Are you so fond of a wetting as all that ? " asked 
 Charlie Hall with a smile. 
 
 " Oh, I'd risk the wetting. I've been through worse 
 rapids than that without so much as being sprinkled." 
 He proceeded to support his assertion by relating some of 
 his adventures. 
 
 When Jack Fleming came to the end of his tether, the 
 others had their say, for they had not been without ex- 
 periences of a similar nature. Meanwhile, the fourth 
 inember of the group had been listening with interested 
 attention, as if their stories were so novel that he did not 
 wisli to lose a word of theui. He was merely a cliance 
 acquaintance, who had fallen into conversation with his 
 
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 MrB 
 
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 ii8 
 
 FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM. 
 
 fellow-travellers through the freemasonry of the pipe. 
 They knew his name, Konald Cameron, but they knew 
 nothing more about him. 
 
 It was more for the sake of saying something courteous 
 than with any idea of drawing the stranger out that 
 Fleming turned to him and said, " Perhaps you know 
 something about running rapids too ? " 
 
 The stranger's bronzed face broke out into a smile, 
 which meant unmistakably, " As well ask Grant if ho 
 knew something about fighting battles ; " but there was not 
 the faintest trace of boastfulness in his tone as he replied, 
 " I have run a few rapids in my time." 
 
 " Well, it's your turn now ; tell us your experience,' 
 said Fleming, and without much urging Cameron began. 
 
 " I must explain that I am in the employ of the Hud- 
 son Bay Comjmny, and have spent many years in the 
 North-west districts. My duties have required frequent 
 long trips by York boat and bark canoe, in the course of 
 which I have had my full share of tussles with rapids of 
 all kinds. I could tell you half-a-dozen rather exciting 
 little episodes, but I'll give you only one just now, namely, 
 my passage of the Long Canon of the Liard in a canvas 
 boat." 
 
 " In a canvas boat ? " broke out Fleming, half incredu- 
 lously. 
 
 " Yes, in a canvas boat," repeated Cameron. " Not a 
 particularly seaw^orthy craft, I must confess. But it was 
 a notion of my own in order to get over the difficulty in 
 which 1 was placed. I had been over in British Co- 
 
FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM. 
 
 119 
 
 lumbia, and was on my way back to Athabasca. The 
 season was growing late, and I had only two men with 
 me — an Indian and a half-breed. The Indian was a 
 splendid canoe-man, but the half-breed was not of much 
 account. The first part of the journey could be made by 
 boat easily enough, but for us three men to drag a heavy 
 boat over Grizzly Portage, which is about six miles long, 
 and has a portage-path that climbs a thousand feet up the 
 mountain side, was quite out of the question. 
 
 " So before I started I had a boat made out of tent 
 canvas, which would be no trouble to carry. The wooden 
 boat was to be left at the head of Grizzly Portage to take 
 care of itself. 
 
 " Well, we got on smoothly until we passed the portage, 
 and the Long Canon opened out before us. As I looked 
 at its wild rush of water, and realized that this was only 
 the beginning, and far from the worst of it, I confess I felt 
 tempted to turn back. But my pride soon banished that 
 thought, and I set about getting my frail craft ready for 
 the trip. Dennazee, the Indian, did not show the slightest 
 concern ; but Machard, the half-breed, was evidently much 
 frightened. 
 
 " Assuming a cheery indifference I by no means felt, 1 
 went about the work in the most matter-of-fact way, and. 
 with Dennazee helping heartily, the canvas boat vva.s put 
 together and set afloat. 
 
 "But it became evident immediately that she was not 
 minded to stay afloat long. Although 1 had taken the 
 precaution to give the canvas a good coat of oil, no sooner 
 
 ipi :i 
 
 
p 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 IffI 
 
 I20 
 
 FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM. 
 
 were we on board tlian the treacherous stufi* leaked through 
 every pore. Clearly this must be remedied before we 
 could attempt the passage. 
 
 " Bidding the men gather all the gum and balsam they 
 could find, I put the whole of our bacon, some ten pounds 
 at least, half-a-dozen candles, and the gum and balsam into 
 our pot, set it over a brisk fire, and produced the most ex- 
 traordinary compound you can imagine. 
 
 " With this we thickly daubed the outside of the boat 
 from stem to stern, and then left her for the night. The 
 next morning she was as tight as a drum, and we started 
 oflf, the poor half-breed muttering prayers in full expecta- 
 tion of a watery grave, the Indian as stolid as a statue, 
 and myself much more anxious at heart than I cared to 
 have either man know. 
 
 " The canon is about forty miles long, and in that dis- 
 tance the river falls quite five hundred feet. Old Lepine, 
 who has piloted boats up and down the Liard for thirty 
 years or more, asserts that once, when the water was 
 unusually high, he went through the whole length of the 
 canon in a York boat in two hours. The old man may be 
 a few minutes short of the record, but there is no doubt 
 that in the spring, when the snow is melting on the moun- 
 tain slopes, the river runs at a fearful rate. I had hoped 
 for low water, but, as luck would have it, a sudden spell 
 of intensely hot weather had set the snow going, and the 
 Liard was just high enough to be a very ugly customer. 
 
 " Well, we paddled out into the current, and then there 
 was nothing to do but steer. 1 had the stern, and Denna- 
 
FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM. 
 
 121 
 
 ZOO the bow, while Machard clung tightly to the centre 
 thwart, and was useful only as ballast. Like an arrow our 
 little boat sped down stream, darting this way and that, 
 dipping and dancing about like a cork, doing exactly what 
 the water willed. 
 
 "At the very first swirl I found out something that 
 ffave me an additional shiver. This was that the boat 
 could bear very little pressure from the paddle. If the 
 water pulled one way and the paddle the other, the frail 
 thing squirmed and twisted like a snake instead of obeying 
 the steersman, so that it was quite impossible to make her 
 respond readily or to effect a sharp turn. No doubt Den- 
 nazce discovered this as soon as I did, but he gave no hint 
 of it, as with intent face and skilful arm he did his part of 
 the work to perfection. 
 
 " The first few miles were not very bad, but we soon 
 came to a place where whirlpool followed whirlpool in 
 fearfully quick succession, and I no sooner caught my 
 breath after escaping one than we were struggling with 
 another. Our canvas cockle-shell appeared to undulate 
 over the frothing waves rather than cut through them. I 
 seemed to feel every motion of the water through her thin 
 skin. In the very thick of it I could not help admiring 
 the wonderful skill of the Indian in the bow. Again and 
 again he saved us from dashing against a rock, or whirling 
 around broadside to the current. 
 
 " For mile after mile we were tumbled about, and tossed 
 from wave to wave like a chip of bark. My heart was in 
 my mouth. I could scarcely breathe. My knees quaked, 
 
 }:' I 
 
 
 n^ H\ 
 
 ^%\ 
 
|! 
 
 IT 
 
 : , 
 
 Its 
 
 FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM. 
 
 though iny hand was firm, as, with eyes fixed upon Den- 
 nazee, I instantly obeyed every motion of his paddle. 
 
 " In this fashion, one hairbreadth escape succeeding 
 another, we did half the distance unscathed, and made the 
 shore by the aid of an eddy at the head of the Kapids of 
 the Drow^ned. These rapids got their forbidding name 
 from the fate of eight voyagers, who lost their lives while 
 attempting to run them in a large canoe. Being studded 
 with rocks, these rapids are extremely dangerous. As 
 the canon widens out sufficiently to leave a narrow beach 
 at this point, we preferred portaging our canvas boat to 
 impaling her on one of the rocks. 
 
 " It was a strange thing that our sudden appearance 
 should have so startled two moose who were standing on 
 the shore that, instead of retreating up the hill, they 
 plunged boldly into the river, of whose pitiless power they 
 evidently knew nothing, and were borne helplessly away 
 to destruction. A little later w^e saw their bodies stranded 
 on a shoal, and the sight gave me a chill as I thought that 
 that perhaps would bo our fate, too, before we escaped 
 from the Long Canon. 
 
 " We had hard work getting the boat and ourselves over 
 the broken, boulder-strowai beach beside the Kapids of the 
 T}' ■■'••' '\, and the boat had more than one 'close call' as 
 »*• r.]./. : and stumbled about. I've no doubt Machard 
 '^ . •' been glad to see it perforated with a hole 
 
 vv 
 
 beyond repair. But by dint of great care and hard work 
 we did manage to bring it through uninjured, and then we 
 halted for a rest and a bit of dinner. 
 
 for 
 
^^ 
 
 FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM. 
 
 12- 
 
 " When it came to starting again, Macliard vowed he 
 would not get aboard. He pleaded to be allowed to follow 
 us on foot ; but I would not listen to him. I needed him 
 for ballast in the first place, and moreover, if we did get 
 
 SUOOTINCJ A FALL. 
 
 through alive, I could not afibrd to waste half a day wait- 
 ing for him to overtake us. Drawing my revolver, I 
 ordered him to get on board. He obeyed, trembling, and 
 we started again, Dennazee as imperturbable as ever. 
 
 "! S 
 
 ■ ^ ini 
 
 It •; 
 
 .! s- 
 
 
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 1-^tt : 
 
134 
 
 FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM. 
 
 I 
 
 1^^ 
 
 I' ^ 
 
 
 i 
 
 • 
 
 \ \ 
 
 ; i' 1 
 
 1 t ' 
 
 I 
 
 \% ^ 
 
 
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 :^; ■ 
 
 
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 j ■,'■ a i 
 
 1,' 
 
 1 i = ■■ : 
 
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 \\ 
 
 ; : 
 
 ■ 11 
 
 ifiyui 
 
 •' We had the worst part of the passage still before us. 
 The sides of the canon drew close together until they 
 became lofty walls, between which the river shot down- 
 ward like a mill-race. The great black cliffs to right and 
 left frowned upon us as if indignantly, and at every turn 
 in the canon a wliirlpool yawned, ready to engulf us. 
 Again and again I thought we were caught in a whirl, but 
 in some marvellous manner Dcnnazee extricated us, and we 
 darted on to try our fate with another. 
 
 " Extreme as our peril was, it had a wonderful thrill 
 and excitement about it, and in the midst of it I found 
 myself thinking that were I only in a big York boat I 
 would be shouting for joy instead of filled with apprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 " The great difficulty was to keep our boat straight with 
 the stream, for, as I have already told you, she was so 
 pliant that she bent and twisted instead of keeping stiff, 
 and more than once I felt sure she would cave in under 
 the tremendous pressure upon her thin sides. To make 
 matters worse she began to leak again, and although I 
 commanded Machard to bail her out with a pannikin, he 
 did it so clumsily in his terror that I was afraid he would 
 upset us, and had to order him to stop. 
 
 " We must have had an hour or more of this, when for 
 the first time Dennazee spoke. Turning round just for a 
 moment he pointed ahead, and exclaimed, ' Hell Gate ! ' 
 
 " I loiew at once what he meant. We had almost 
 reached the end of the canon. There remained only Hell 
 Gate, and our perils would be over. Only Hell Gate ! 
 
FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM. 
 
 125 
 
 I've not been much of a hand at praying, but I'm not 
 ashamed to confess that I imitated poor Machard's ex- 
 ample then. As for him, the moment he heard what 
 Dennazee said, he fell on his knees in the bottom, and, 
 clinging to the thwart, set to praying with all his might 
 and main. 
 
 " With a thrilling rush we swept around the curve and 
 plunged into Hell Gate. It is an awful place. The walls 
 of the canon are two hundred feet high, and not more than 
 a hundred feet apart. The deep water spins along at the 
 rate ' '.wenty miles an hour, while at the end is a sort of 
 drop into a black, dreadful pool, where the whirls are the 
 worst of all. 
 
 " We got through the narrow passage all right, and 
 then, with a dive that made my heart stand still, entered 
 the whirlpools. There were three of them, and we struck 
 the centre one. In spite of our desperate efforts, it got its 
 grip full upon us, and round and round we went like a 
 teetotum. 
 
 " It is not at all likely that I shall ever forget that ex- 
 perience. Our flimsy craft seemed to be trying to collapse 
 every moment. It writhed and squirmed like a living 
 thing, and at every turn of the awful circle we drew nearer 
 to its centre, which yawned to engulf us. 
 
 " I had given up all hope, and was about to throw away 
 my paddle and prepare for the last struggle, when suddenly 
 there came a great rush of water down the canon. The 
 whirlpools all filled up and levelled over ; for one brief 
 minute the river was on our side. 
 
 ^•ii 
 
 '.I 
 
 i 
 
 .! .«: 
 
f 
 
 i 
 
 til; 
 
 126 
 
 FORTY MILES OF MAELSTROM, 
 
 '• Witli a whoop of delight Dennazee dug his paddle 
 deep into the water, and put all his strength upon it. 1 
 seconded his efforts as well as I could. The boat hesitait-d, 
 then obeyed, and moved slowly but surely forward ; and 
 after some moments of harrowing suspense we found our- 
 selves floating swiftly but safely onward, with no more 
 dangers ahead.'* 
 
 Cameron ceased speaking, and picked up his pipe. 
 There was a moment of silence, and then Fleming, drawing 
 a deep breath, said with a quizzical smile, " Perhaps you 
 do know something about running rapids." 
 
ESKIMO WOMAN WITH TAIL AND AMOOK, OR HOOU. 
 
 THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 
 
 —St'-»~&sfp^*^ 
 
 AFTER centuries of seclusion and neglect, broken only 
 by the infrequent visits of ambitious seekers for 
 the north pole, or mercenary hunters for the right whale, 
 and by the semi-religious, semi-commercial ministrations of 
 the Moravian missionaries, the Eskimos of the Labrador 
 
 
 ('•' v 
 
 >) I 
 
 I, 
 
 
 f f. 
 
 S-iiJ 
 
 .ill; 
 
 m 
 
t 
 
 
 128 T//£ CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 
 
 ami Hudson Bay region sutldenly had the eyes of the 
 world turned inquiringly upon them. 
 
 The shocking story was published far and wide that a 
 winter that did not change to spring in the usual way had 
 cut off their supply of food, and that in consequence they 
 were devouring one another with the ghastly relish of a 
 Fiji cannibal. Although this report proved untrue, hap- 
 pily, the Eskimos are sufficiently interesting to attract 
 attention at all times, and are little enough known to 
 furnish an adequate excuse at this time for a brief paper 
 upon them. 
 
 mq; 
 
 li ': 
 
 vn 
 
 I. 
 
 To aid me in presenting the earliest glimpses of the 
 Eskimos, I am fortunate in having before me a manu- 
 script prepared by the late Robert Morrow of Halifax, 
 Nova Scotia, an accomplished student of the literatures of 
 Iceland and Denmark. 
 
 That to the Norsemen and not to the Sb.nniards x\d\\i- 
 fully belongs the credit of first discoverinir America is now 
 settled, and that when the Norsemen first touched Amer- 
 ican soil they found the Eskimos already in possession is 
 also cei'tain. Yet it was not these bold adventurers that 
 gave these curious people the name by which they are 
 most commonly known. In the expressive Norse tongue 
 they were described as " Skraelings " — that is, the " chips, 
 parings." The intention was not, of course, to convey the 
 idea that they were cordially accepted as " chips of the old 
 
TIIR CANADIAN CHILDREN 01 THE COLD. 129 
 
 block," but, on the contrary, to show that they were re- 
 garded by their handsome and stalwart discoverers as little 
 better than mere fragments of humanity — a view which, 
 however unflattering, their squat stature, ugly counten- 
 ances, and filthy habits went far to justify. 
 
 The name " Eskimo " was given to them by the Abenaki, 
 a tribe of Indians in southern Labrador. It is an abbre- 
 viation of " Eskimautsik," which means " eating raw fish," 
 in allusion to their repulsive custom of eating both fish 
 and flesh without taking the preliminary trouble of cook- 
 ing it. The Eskimos themselves assert very emphatically 
 that they are " Innuit " — that is, " the people " — just as 
 though they were the only people in the world (and, by 
 the way, it is worth noticing that each particular tribe of 
 these " Huskies " thinks itself the entire population of the 
 globe until undeceived by the advent of visitors). Their 
 national name, if they have one at all, is " Karalit," the 
 plural of " Karalik," meaning " those that stayed behind." 
 
 With reference to this latter title, Mr. Morrow points 
 out a curious fact, which is suggestive. Strahlenburg, in 
 Ills description of the northern part of Asia, states, on the 
 authority of the Tartar writer Abulgazi Chan, that Og, or 
 Ogus Chan, who reigned in Tartary long before the birth 
 of Christ, made an inroad into the southern Asiatic coun- 
 tries, and as some of his tribes stayed behind, they were 
 called in reproach " Kall-atzi," and also " Karalik." Now 
 this " Karalik," with its plural " Karalit," is the very name 
 that the Eskimos give themselves. So striking a resem- 
 blance, amounting in facL to identity, can surely be ac- 
 
 (904) 9 
 
Iff 
 
 n 
 
 W'- 
 
 130 T//E CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 
 
 counted for in no other way (and for this suggestion I 
 must assume all responsibility) than that those who stayed 
 behind in Tartary subsequently moved over to the Amer- 
 ican continent. 
 
 When Eric the Red sailed across from Iceland to Green- 
 land (somewhere about the year 985), he found many 
 traces of the Eskimos there ; and when Thorvald, some 
 twenty years later, ventured as far south as Vinland, iden- 
 tified as the present Martha's Vineyard (with which he 
 was so delighted that he exclaimed, " Here is a beautiful 
 land, and hero I wish to raise my dwelling "), the unex- 
 pected discovery of three skin boats upon the beach affected 
 him and his followers much as the imprint of a human 
 foot did Robinson Crusoe. Tlicy found more than the 
 boats, however, for each boat held three men, all but one 
 of whom they caught and summarily dospatchod, for 
 reasons that the saga discreetly forbears to state. 
 
 But retribution followed fust. No sooner had the in- 
 vaders returned to their ships than the Ski'aelings attacked 
 them in crt^at force, and althouoh the Norsemen came out 
 best in the fighting, their leader, Thorvald, received a 
 mortal woun' Ho chargt^d his men to bury him upon 
 the cape "at which he had thought it best to dwell ; " for, 
 as ho pathetically added, " it may happen that it was a 
 true word that fell from my mouth that I should dwell 
 here for a time." His men did as they were bid. They 
 set up two crosses over his grave, whose site is now known 
 as Summit Point. They then hastened homeward. 
 
 After the lapse of two years, one Thorfinn Karlsifori, 
 
sis 
 
 n/E CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 131 
 
 fired by wluit he licard in Iceland of the wonderful dis- 
 coveries made by the hardy sons of Eric the Red, fitted 
 out an imposing expedition, his boats carrying one hundred 
 and sixty men, besides women, cattle, etc., and set sail for 
 Vinland. He reached his destination in safety, and re- 
 maining there for some time, improved upon his prede- 
 cessor's method of treating the Skraelings. Instead of 
 aimlessly killing them, he cheerfully cheated them, getting 
 huge packs of furs in exchange for bits of red cloth. He 
 lias thus described his customers' chief characteristics : 
 " These men were black and ill-favoured, and had straight 
 hair on their heads. Thev had large eyes and broad 
 checks."' All of which shows that althouoh the Eskimos 
 liave changed their habitat since then, they have not 
 altered nnich in their appearance. 
 
 After two years of prosperous trading, the relations 
 between the Norsemen and the Skraelings became strained 
 from a cause too amusino: not to be related. As already 
 stated, the visitors brought a few of their cattle with them, 
 and it ha]ipened one day that a huge bull had his feelings 
 ('xcited soMu! way or other, perhaps by a piece of red cloth 
 tlioughtlessly paradcid in his view ; at all events ho bel- 
 lowed very loud, and charging upon the terrified Eskimos, 
 tossed them about in the most lively fashion. They incon- 
 tinently tumbled into their boats, and, without a word of 
 farewell, rowed oft* to the vast anmsement of the bull's 
 owners. But the latter's laughter vanished when presently 
 the runavi^ays returned " in whole ranks, like a rushing 
 stream," and began an attack in which the Norsemen were 
 
 Hi 
 
 
132 THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 
 
 vanquished by sheer force of numbers, and deemed it 
 prudent to make off without standing upon the order of 
 their going. 
 
 With the departure of the Norsemen, the curtain of 
 obscurity falls upon the Eskimos, and is not lifted again 
 until we find them, not luxuriatins: amid the vine-entan<;led 
 forests of Vinland, but scattered far and wide over the 
 hideous desolation of the far north, and engaged in a 
 ceaseless struggle with hunger and cold. Just when they 
 thus moved northward, and why, does not yet appear. If 
 their innate and intense hatred of the Red Indian be of 
 any service as a clue, it is, however, within the bounds 
 of reason to believe that they were driven from their com- 
 fortable quarters by their more active and warlike fellow- 
 aborigines, and given no rest until they found it amidst 
 the icebergs and glaciers of Labrador and Hudson Bay, 
 where they may now be met with in bands numbering 
 from a dozen to a hundred or more. Tliroughout the 
 whole of this Arctic region they fearlessly range in search 
 of food. 
 
 The Eskimos are, in fact, the only inhabitants of a vast 
 territory, which includes the shores of Arctic America, the 
 whole of Greenland, and a tract about four hundred miles 
 long on the Asiatic coast beyond Behring Strait, thus ex- 
 tendins: over a distance of live thousand miles from east to 
 west, and three thousand two liundred miles from north 
 
 :i 
 
ast 
 les 
 
 JX- 
 
 to 
 
 THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 133 
 
 to soutli. Notvvitlistanding this wide distribution, there is 
 a remarkable uniformity, not only in the physical features 
 of the Eskimos, but also in their manners, traditions, and 
 language. Consequently very much that may be said of 
 the Canadian Children of the Cold (that is, the Eskimos of 
 Labrador and Hudson Bay) would be equally true of the 
 other branches of the race. 
 
 For a great deal of interesting information concerning 
 them we are indebted to the writings of such men as 
 Ribbach and Herzeburg, Moravian missionaries, who, with 
 a heroic zeal that only those familiar with their lot can 
 adequately appreciate, have devoted themselves to " the 
 cure of souls " among the Eskimos. There are six of these 
 Moravian missions scattered along the eastern coast of 
 Labrador, Nain, the chief one, was established as far 
 back as 1771, Okkak in 177C, Hopedale in 1782, and 
 Hebron, Zoar, and Ramah more recently. 
 
 The bestowal of so attractive Biblical names helps very 
 little, however, to mitigate the unfavourable impression 
 produced by the forbidding surroundings of these tiny 
 oases almost lost in a seemingly illimitable desert. Sheer 
 from the sea, except where broken by frequent gulf and 
 fiord, the coast line towers up in tremendous and unpitying 
 sternness, and at its base the breakers thunder with a force 
 and fury that knows little pause throughout the year. 
 From end to end the shore is jagged like a gigantic saw 
 with innumerable bays and inlets, sprinkled thick with 
 islands and underlaid with hidden reefs, which makes 
 these waters difficult to find and dangerous to navigate. 
 
 S 
 
f 
 
 134 THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 
 
 \\ 
 
 : i 
 
 i ! 
 
 The interior of the country is equally repellent. 
 Although toward the west it becomes less mountainous and 
 slightly undulating, like the American prairie, it presents 
 nothing but an inhospitable and savage wilderness, covered 
 with immense forests, broken by numerous swamps and 
 lakes, and untouched by human foot, save when now and 
 then a band of Red Indians venture thither, lured by the 
 hope of food and fur. 
 
 The Eskimos upon the eastern coast of Labrador are, 
 as a rule, small of stature, not much exceeding five feet. 
 Those upon the western shore, however, are taller and more 
 robust ; they are quite strongly built, with hair and beard 
 sweeping down over the shoulders and chest. When the 
 good seed sown by the patient missionary finds lodging 
 in a Husky's heart, he usually signalizes his adoption of 
 Christianity by indulging in a clean shave, or at least by 
 cutting his beard short with a pair of scissors, in deference 
 perhaps to the judgment of St. Paul that " if a man have 
 long hair, it is a shame unto him." 
 
 They have small, soft hands, broad shoulders, big flat 
 faces, large, round heads, and short, stubby noses, 
 
 " Tip-tilted, lik(3 the petals of a flower," 
 
 and very generous mouths, which, being nearly always on 
 the broad grin, make free display of fine rows of sharp, 
 white teeth. In complexion they are tawny and ruddy, 
 and the face is of a mucli darker shade than the bod}'. 
 At .spring-time, when the sun's burning rays are reflected 
 from glisteninii: banks of snow, thev become almost as 
 
 liiU 
 
THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 135 
 
 black in the face as negroes ; but new-born babes may be 
 seen as fair as any English child. Their eyes are small 
 and almost uniformly black, and peep brightly out at you 
 from underneath a perfect forest of brow and lash. Their 
 hair is black, also, and very thick and coarse. 
 
 Their ordinary food is the Hesh of the seal, with its 
 attendant blubber, and the fish that abound along the 
 shore. They are not particular whether their dinner is 
 cooked or not, and I seriously question whether a profes- 
 sional pugilist in the height of his training could swallow 
 his beef-steak as " rare " as the Eskimos will their seal 
 cutlets. They are also very partial to tallow, soap, fish 
 oil, and such things, which they look upon as great deli- 
 cacies, a big tallow candle being rather more of a treat to 
 an Eskimo youngster than a stick of candy to a civilized 
 small boy. 
 
 That these peculiar and decidedly repulsive tastes are, 
 after all, bottomed on the laws of nature, is clearly shown 
 by the fact that when the natives around a mission station 
 adopt a European diet (and they soon become passionately 
 fond of bread and biscuits) they inevitably grow weak and 
 incapable of standing the intense cold. When Joe, that 
 heroic Eskimo who supported Hall's expedition by his 
 lumting, after Hall himself had died, was transplanted to 
 America and thence to England, he soon languished and 
 grew consumptive, despite every effort to preserve his 
 health. On joining Captain Young in the Pandora, his 
 only remark, uttered with a depth of eager, confident hope 
 that was very touching, was, " By-and-by get little seal 
 
 " 111 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 mm 
 
 
 9m 
 
 m 
 
 |m 
 
 \-M 
 
 Wm 
 
1 
 
 IT 
 
 1^ 
 
 I '!'! 
 
 136 THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 
 
 meat ; tlien all right," — a prediction that was fulfilled to the 
 very letter when he regained his native ice. As soon as 
 they killed their first seal Joe was given free rein, and he 
 becran to revive at once. His hollow cheeks rcsuinod their 
 old-time chubbiness (and smeariness too, no doubt), his 
 languor left him, and he was, in short, another man. 
 
 The seal is, in fact, everything to the Eskimo. What 
 the buffalo was to the American Indian, what the reindeer 
 is to the European L;'.pl- .ler, all that, and still more, is 
 the seal to these Children of the Cold. Upon its meat and 
 blubber they feed. \Vith 's iur ihey are clothed. By its 
 oil they are warmed and lighted. Stretched upon appro- 
 priate framework, its skin makes them sea-worthy boats 
 and weather-proof tents. While, unkindest use of all, with 
 its bladder they float the fatal harpoon that wrought its 
 own undoing. To sum it all up in one sentence, take 
 away the seal, and the Eskimo could not exist for a month. 
 
 There is not nmch room for fashion's imperious sway in 
 Labrador. Seal-skin from scalp to toe is the invariable 
 rule ; and there w^ould be no small difficulty in distinguish- 
 ing between the sexes, if the women did not indulge in a 
 certain amount of ornamentation upon their garments, and 
 further indicate their fcmincity by appending to their 
 sacques a curious tail reaching almost to the ground, which 
 they renew whenever it becomes so dirty as to shock even 
 their sluggish sensibilities. Still another distincjuishing 
 mark, permissible, however, only to tliose who have at- 
 tained the dignity of motherhood, is the amook, a capacious 
 hood hung between the shoulders, which forms the safest 
 
 TU 
 
 and 
 wis( 
 
THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 137 
 
 and snuggest of all carrying places for babies that other- 
 wise would be " in arms." 
 
 SEAL-HUNTING. 
 
 III. 
 
 In addition to the records of the Mora\'ian missionaries, 
 the reports of the Arctic explorers and the stories brought 
 hack by whalers concerning the Eskimos, much information 
 has been gained of late through the measures taken by the 
 Canadian Government to determine the practicability of 
 Hudson Bay as a connnercial liighway. For three suc- 
 cessive years expeditions on an extensive scale have been 
 
 •i'lii 
 
Mil 
 
 ii 
 
 li 
 
 138 THE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD 
 
 despatched to that little-known region, and observing sta- 
 tions have been maintained throughout the year at dif- 
 ferent points along the coast of Labrador and the shores of 
 that gi-eat inland sea which has not inappropriately been 
 termed the " Mediterranean " of Canada. As one result of 
 these expeditions, much attention has been drawn to the 
 natives. Lieutenant Gordon, who has commanded all three, 
 has many kind VvOrds for them. He finds them docile, 
 amiable, and willing to work, and apparently much pleased 
 with the prospect of increased intercourse with the white 
 man. Occasionally one is met that has been sufficiently 
 enterprising to acquire the English language, while many 
 others understand well enough what is said to them in 
 that language, although they cannot be persuaded to 
 speak it. 
 
 They are wildly fond of any article of civilized clothing, 
 and the head-man at one settlement exhibited no little 
 pride in the possession of a stand-up linen collar, almost 
 worthy to be placed beside one of Mr, Gladstone's. 
 Although ho displayed it to the utmost advantage, he did 
 not, like the Fiji chieftain, consider all other clothing 
 superfluous. 
 
 When stores were being landed at the stations, the 
 Eskimos would gather about and offer their services, which 
 were always accepted, and then all day long they would 
 toil cheerfully side by side with their white brethren, re- 
 quiring no other remuneration than biscuits. When so 
 much has been written by Arctic explorers about the 
 incorrigible kleptomania of the natives, it is no less a 
 
 THi 
 
 mat 
 Gore 
 the 
 
 111 Li". 
 
rilE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 139 
 
 matter for surprise than for gratification that Lieutenant 
 Gordon can bear this testimony as to the moral status of 
 the Eskimos at Hudson Bay : " One word may be said 
 in regard to their honesty. Although scraps of iron and 
 wood possess a value to them which we can hardly appre- 
 ciate, they would take nothing without first asking leave. 
 Not even a chip or broken nail was taken without their 
 first coming to ask permission of the officer who was on 
 duty!" 
 
 No doubt the fact that practical prohibition prevails 
 has something to do with this highly commendable show- 
 ing. The law, aided and abetted by the vigilant mission- 
 aries, shuts out everything stronger than lime-juice, and 
 the path of the Eskimo is free from the most seductive 
 and destructive of all temptations, except when some un- 
 principled whaler offers him a pull out of his flask. This, 
 however, is a rare occurrence, and there is no record of any 
 such disturbance ever having been raised as would in more 
 highly civilized communities call for the interference of the 
 police. Although the simplicity of their life and their 
 freedom from many modern vices conduce to longevity, 
 these advantages are more than counterbalanced by the 
 strain put upon their constitutions by the severity of the 
 climate and the incessant struggle for food. Consequently 
 they soon age, and seldom live beyond sixty years. 
 
 The doctrine that cleanliness is next to godliness finds 
 few adherents in Eskimo land. The rule seems to be to 
 eschew washing throughout the year, and many a mighty 
 hunter goes through life innocent of a bath, unless, indeed, 
 
 (f: 
 
 U-Ji 
 
 m 
 
I 
 
 
 
 fi 
 
 •11 
 
 3 ■ 
 
 / 
 
 3 : 
 
 
 [I ' 
 
 li 
 
 g i 
 
 140 T/IE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 
 
 he should happen to be tumbled out of his kayak by some 
 irate walrus with other than sanitary designs in mind. 
 Mr. Tuttle, the historian of the first Hudson Bay expedi- 
 tion, is authority for the statement that the children, when 
 very young, are sometimes cleaned by being licked with 
 their mother's tongue before being put into the bag of 
 feathers that serves them as bed, cradle, and blanket ; but 
 one cannot help thinking that this particular version of " a 
 lick and a promise " is rather too laborious to have exten- 
 sive vogue. 
 
 So familiar has the world been made through the 
 medium of Arctic exploration literature with the igloos 
 (huts), kayaks and umiaks (boats), sledges, dogs, harpoons, 
 and other possessions of these people, which are precisely 
 the same wherever they may be found, that reference to 
 them seems unnecessary, especially as the Canadian Es- 
 kimos offer nothing peculiar. But, before concluding, a 
 few words must be added as to the intellectual and moral 
 characteristics of the race. Their intelligence is consider- 
 able. In some instances they display not only a taste but 
 a talent for music, chart-making, and drawing. One case 
 is mentioned where a mere lad drew an excellent outline 
 of the coast for over a hundred miles, indicating its many 
 irregularities with astonishing accuracy. They are capital 
 mimics, and are apt at learning the songs and dances of 
 their white visitors. But they are poor men of business. 
 They generally leave to the purchaser the fixing of the 
 price of anything they have to sell. 
 
 It is said that in their private lives their state of 
 
Tlir. CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 141 
 
 morality is low, although they avoid indecency calculated 
 to give public offence. Stealing- and lying were unknown 
 among them until these " black arts " were introduced by 
 the whites as products of civilization, and, unhappily, the 
 natives are proving apt pupils. They are also somewhat 
 given to gambling. Although by no means without cour- 
 age, they seldom quarrel, and never go to war with one 
 another. 
 
 As to religion, the Eskimos, before they accepted Chris- 
 tianity, had little or none that was worthy of the name. 
 Thoy believe in the immortality of the soul, but liberally 
 extend this doctrine to the lower animals also, which they 
 endow with souls. They hold, also, that human souls can 
 pass into the bodies of these very animals. 
 
 With respect to the higher powers, their creed is that 
 the world is ruled by supernatural beings whom they call 
 " owners ; " and as almost every object has its owner, this 
 would seem to be a kind of Pantheism. After death 
 liuman souls go either up or down ; but in curious contrast 
 to the belief of all other races, the good, in their opinion, 
 go to the nether world, where they bask in a land, not of 
 milk and honey, but of inexhaustible seal meat and blub- 
 ber. The bad, on the other hand, go to the upper world, 
 where they suffer what a fashionable preacher euphemized 
 as " eternal uneasiness," not from excess of heat but from 
 frost and famine. There they are permitted to lighten 
 their misery by playing ball with a walrus head, which 
 diversion, by the way, in some inexplicable fashion, gives 
 rise to the aurora borealis. 
 
 \ ij 
 
142 TfJE CANADIAN CHILDREN OF THE COLD 
 
 Liko all abori^'iiios tlusy liave tlicir own legend of the 
 deluge, and to this day they proudly point out a largo 
 island lying between Okkak and Hebron, rising to the 
 height of nearly seven thousand feet, which they claim was 
 the only spot left uncovered by the flood, and upon which 
 a select party of their antediluvian ancestors survived tlie 
 otherwise all-embracing catastrophe. 
 
 The future destiny of this interesting race may be 
 readily forecast. In common with the Red Indian of the 
 plains, the swarthy Eskimo may adopt with reference to 
 the white man those words of fathomless pathos uttered by 
 John the Baptist in reference to the Messiah, " He must 
 increase, but I must decrease." It is merely a question of 
 time. All over the vast region he inhabits are signs show- 
 ing that his numbers were far greater once than they are 
 at present. The insatiable greed of his white brothers is 
 rendering his existence increasingly difficult. The seal 
 and the walrus are ever being driven farther north, and 
 that means a sterner and shorter struggle for life. As the 
 Indian will not long survive the buflalo, so the Eskimo 
 will not long survive the seal. There are, perhaps, fifteen 
 thousand of them now scattered far and wide over the 
 tremendous spaces between Labrador and Alaska. Each 
 year their numbers are growing less, and ere long the last 
 remnant of the race will have vanished, and the great lone 
 North will return to the state of appalling solitude and 
 silence that onlv the Canadian Children of the Cold had 
 the fortitude to alleviate by their presence. 
 
FACE TO FACE WITH AN "INDIAN DEVIL" 
 
 — *T ♦af^i<r*-c; 
 
 THERE were three of us, and we were nil untiring 
 explorers of the forests and streams within reach 
 of our homes in quest of such possessors of fur, fin, or 
 
 ther as our ^uns and rods could overcome. 
 
 Plenty of luck did we have too, for wo lived in a 
 -pnrsely-settled part of Nova Scotia, and the trout and 
 partnu^w.. »;.;'ii rrbbits had not had their ranks thinned by 
 too much huntinjx. It was no uncommon thinij: for us to 
 bring back, as the result of an afternoon's whipping of the 
 brooks, two or three dozen speckled trout weighing from 
 half-a-pound to three pounds each, while less than a 
 dozen brace of plump partridges or bob-tailed rabbits was 
 looked on as a very poor bag for a day's shooting. 
 
 Adventurous and enterprising as we were, however, one 
 stream of which w^e had knowledge remained undisturbed 
 by our lines. It was known among the Mic-Macs, a band 
 of whom roamed about the neighbourhood, as Indian Devil 
 Hun, being so called because of their belief that the dense 
 dark forest in which it took its rise was the fastness of a 
 family of panthers, of which tliey stood in great dread. 
 

 
 Vc f 
 
 m.' 
 
 
 144 FACE TO FACE WITH AN ''INDIAN DEVIL:' 
 
 Nor was the name without good foundation, for one 
 autumn a hunter with gun and trap ventured into this 
 place, and returned with the body of a panther, stating 
 that he believed others still remained. 
 
 Indian Devil Run began somewhere in the North Forest, 
 ran through its heavy shadows for several miles, and then 
 appeared to add its contribution to the Digdequash River, 
 at which point we made its acquaintance. 
 
 We often talked about following it up into the depths 
 of the forest, but the Indian stories made us pause, until 
 at last one evening in September, Jack Johnston, craving 
 some fresh excitement, dared us to make the attempt, and 
 we rashly accepted the challenge. 
 
 The following morning we set off, letting no one know 
 the object of our expedition. We were armed in this 
 fashion : Cliarlio Peters bore an ancient Dutch musket, 
 warranted when properly loaded to kill at both ends ; 
 Johnston had a keen tomahaw^k, which the Indians had 
 taught him to use like one of themselves ; and I carried 
 an old-fashioned smooth-bore shot-gun, dangerous only to 
 small game. 
 
 " Now% if we come across an Indian devil, Charlie," said 
 Johnston, " you give him a broadside from ' Dutchie,' and 
 111 finish him with mv tomahawk." 
 
 " And where do I come in ? " I asked, with a smile. 
 
 " You ? Oh, you blaze away at him with your pepper- 
 pot ; you might perhaps put his eyes out, you know," Jack 
 laughingly responded, and so our order of battle was settled 
 upon. 
 
 FA 
 
FACE TO FACE WITH AN ''INDIAN DEVIL:' 145 
 
 We crossed the Digdequash in a canoe, hid our craft in 
 the underbrush, and in high feather entered upon the ex- 
 ploration of Indian Devil Run. 
 
 It proved to be a succession of falls and rapids, over- 
 shadowed by huge trees for several miles, and we had 
 hard work making our way up its course. But we toiled 
 steadily on, and just before mid-day were rewarded for 
 our pams by reaching a lovely spot, where the banks of 
 the stream widened to form an enchanting pond encircled 
 by a meadow, and offering every inducement to stay and 
 rest. 
 
 Glad were we to do so. The pond evidently swarmed 
 with trout. Quickly adjusting our fishing-tackle, we got 
 to work. Shade of Izaak Walton I what a paradise for 
 anglers ! The water fairly boiled as the hungry trout 
 fought for the privilege of being hooked. In one hour we 
 landed as many as we could carry home, and they were 
 tine fellows every one of them. 
 
 " The greatest place for trout I ever struck ! " exclaimed 
 Charlie Peters, throwing down his rod. " I positively 
 haven't the heart to catch any more. It seems like taking 
 a mean advantage of them." 
 
 So we stopped the slaughter — apparently much to the 
 disappointment of our prey, who hung about asking to be 
 made victims — and proceeded to dispose of the ample 
 lunch with which our thoughtful mothers had provided 
 us Then we had a refreshing plunge in the clear water, 
 scaring the trout nearly out of their skins, and by this 
 time it was necessary that we should retrace our steps. 
 
 (904) 10 
 
m 
 
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 u :i 
 
 ill 
 
 \ 
 
 . 
 
 
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 1 ■ 
 
 r 
 
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 I 
 
 ii 
 
 iu.., 
 
 146 FACE TO FACE WITH AN '' INDIAN DEVII.r 
 
 On our way up I had brought down a fine brace of 
 birds, and to save carrying them to and fro had hung 
 tliem to a high branch, intending to pick them up on tlu; 
 return journey. 
 
 " Don't forget your partridges, Hal," said Jack to me, as 
 we shouklcred our bacfs heavv with trout. 
 
 " No fear of that," I replied. " T know exactly where I 
 left them." 
 
 Hitherto we had seen and heard nothing to justify '(\\^. 
 Indians' superstitious dread of the locality. No signs of 
 wild animals were visible, and in high spirits at having 
 discovered so rich a fishinii'-cround wo hastened home- 
 ward. 
 
 " I guess the Indian devils have got tired of this place 
 and left," remarked Charlie Peters. " But don't let us 
 give it away all the same. Wc must keep this run all to 
 ourselves as lonix as wc can." 
 
 Hardly had he spoken when an appalling shriek pierced 
 the silence of the woods, and brought us to a sudden stop, 
 while we looked into one another's faces with an appre- 
 hension we made no attempt to conceal. We w^ere close 
 to the tree where the partridges had been hung. 
 
 " It's the Indian devil ! " exclainied Jack Johnston, under 
 his breath. " He's eaten the partridges, and now he wants 
 to eat us." 
 
 We fully realized our danger, and after the first shock 
 of fright braced ourselves to meet it with a determined 
 front. Johnston, as the eldest and coolest of the three, 
 took command. 
 
FACE TO FACE WITH AN '^ INDIAN DEVIL." 147 
 
 ' Charlie," said he, " you must lot him have Dutchie full 
 in the face the inoincnt we sight him. — Hal, you Llaze 
 
 "JOHNSTON MENT HIS TOMAHAWK WHIZZINd THROUOll THE AIR " 
 
 away with your shot-gun, and I'll ,<-:tand by to finish liim 
 witli my tomahawk.'' 
 
 I 
 
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 ii 
 
 
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 ii 
 
 
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TIT 
 
 - ' •■ ft 
 
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 148 FACE TO FACE WITH AN ''INDIAN BEVIir 
 
 iNodding assent to these directions, we stood side by 
 side, gazing eagerly into the forest gloom. 
 
 " There he is ! " said Johnston. " See ! on that big 
 limb." 
 
 We followed the direction of his finger, and saw the 
 brute clearly enough, stretched upon a limb not twelve 
 yards away, his great green eyes glaring horribly at us. 
 
 " Quick, Charlie ! " cried Jack. " He's going to spring. 
 Rest your gun on my shoulder, and aim for his chest." 
 
 Charlie did as he was bid, and pulled the trigger. 
 Bang went the old musket with a tremendous report, 
 Over went Charlie on his back, his shoulder well-nigh 
 dislocated by the kick of his weapon ; and down came the 
 panther to the ground, badly wounded in his neck and 
 breast. The instant he touched ground I let him have the 
 contents of my shot-gun. But they only served to bother 
 him for a moment, and looking terrible in his fury, ho was 
 just gathering himself for a spring into our midst, when 
 Jolmston, stepping forward, sent his tomahawk whizzing 
 throuq;h the air with all the force of his stronjx rioht arm. 
 
 It was a perfect throw. No Mic-Mac could have done it 
 better. Like a flash of lio-htnino; the brio-ht steel blade 
 went straight to its mark, and buried itself in the panther's 
 forehead right between those awful eyes, whose malignant 
 gleam it extinguished for ever. 
 
 Lifting Charlie to his feet we rushed forward, and stood 
 in triumph over our fallen foe, shaking hands across his 
 mighty body. How our hearts swelled with pride at the 
 thought of the sensation our exploit would make 1 
 
FACE TO FACE WITH AN ''INDIAN DEVII^ 149 
 
 With a twisted withe for a rope we laboriously dragged 
 our prize to the canoe, and so got it across the river. 
 Here we met the Indian who had been Johnston's teacher 
 in the art of tomahawk-throwing. He seemed immensely 
 relieved at seeing us. 
 
 " Me see you boys go over this morning, then hear devil 
 scream this afternoon, and bear you go bang. Me 'fraid 
 you all deaded this time." 
 
 Then as he discovered the fatal gash in the brute's head, 
 his face lit up with pride. 
 
 "Johnston, you do that!" he cried. "Ah! smart boy. 
 Me learn you how throw tomahawk like that." 
 
 Jack blushingly acknowledged the fact, and gave his 
 Indian instructor due meed of praise for having taught him 
 so well. 
 
 It was too big a job to get the heavy carcass of the 
 )ianther any further, so the Indian took ofi' the head and 
 skin for us, and we presented him with the body, which 
 he said was good to eat, and would " make Indian strong." 
 
 Our arrival at home with the trophies of our triumph 
 over the terror of the forest caused great rejoicing. We 
 were the heroes of the hour, and Charlie quite forgot his 
 bruised shoulder in the pleasant excitement of the occasion. 
 
 We often revisited Indian Devil Run after that, and 
 took many a fine fare of fish from its well-stocked waters, 
 but we never saw another panther. We had apparently 
 killed the last of the brood. 
 
 :i 
 
 n. 
 
M^ i: 
 
 
 
 
 r 
 
 i 
 
 
 IN THE NICK OF TIME. 
 
 " 'I ^ TILL you be out to practice this evening, Charlie ? " 
 
 V V asked Rob M'Kenzie of his friend Kent, as the 
 two, who had been walking home from the high school 
 together, parted at a corner. 
 
 " Indeed, that I will," was the reply ; " and every even- 
 ing, too, until the match conies off. It'll take all the 
 practice we can put in to beat those Riverside chaps, I can 
 tell you." 
 
 " P.shaw ! What makes you think they'll be so hard to 
 beat this time ? " returned Rob. " We've always had our 
 fair share of the games so far." 
 
 " So we have ; but they didn't have Sam Massie playing 
 with them." 
 
 " Sam Massie ! who's Sam Massie ? " exclaimed Rob, in 
 surprise. . 
 
 " Don't you know who Sam Massie is ? Why, he's one 
 of the first twelve of the Torontos," replied Charlie, looking 
 somewhat astonished at his friend's ignorance. 
 
 " Then how on earth can he play with the Riversides ? " 
 asked Rob. " Can't we protest ? " 
 
 " Oh, that's all right enough. His uncle lives in River- 
 
IN THE NICK OF TIME. 
 
 151 
 
 side, and he is staying with him for a while, so we can't 
 object to his playing." 
 
 " Humph ! " growled Rob. " It's a pity we can't. We've 
 got nobody to match him." 
 
 " I don't think it's a pity at all," returned Charlie cheer- 
 fully. " I'd a good deal rather see a crack player like Sam 
 Massie, and get some points from him, than object to his 
 pla} ing, even if he gains the match for the other fellows. 
 We'll do our best to give him a good day's work, any way. 
 So let's practise hard." And Charlie went off whistling. 
 
 There was an intense rivalry between the villages of 
 Riverside and Heatherton in the matter of lacrosse. Each 
 village had a good club, in which not only the players but 
 the people also took a hearty interest, and the matches 
 that were played once a month alternately in each village 
 during the season never failed to draw out to see them 
 everybody in the population that could possibly manage 
 to be present. They were always played on Saturday, 
 because then the farmers from round about came in to the 
 village to do their week's business early in the morning, 
 and by rushing things a little could easily get through by 
 three o'clock, and then they and the shopkeepers and the 
 rest of the village folk would adjourn to the lacrosse-field 
 and have a lively time of it, shouting, and cheering, and 
 laughing as the game w^ent on before them. 
 
 Charlie Kent and Rob M'Kenzie were the two youngest 
 members of the Heatherton lacrosse twelve, and they 
 naturally felt very proud of their position, which they had 
 won by proving themselves the best players in the high 
 
 !,• 
 
 ri 
 
 
152 
 
 IN THE NICK OF TIME. 
 
 m 
 
 school, and thereby attracting the attention of the Heather- 
 ton captain quite early in the season. The clay when big 
 Tom Brown called them both aside and invited them to 
 play with the first twelve was one of the proudest in their 
 lives ; and Tom had had no reason to regret his invitation 
 on any game that summer, for the two " young cubs," as 
 he called them, proved themselves very useful additions, 
 being quick, careful, plucky, and, best of all, thoroughly 
 obedient, always doing exactly what he told them. 
 
 The next match with Riverside was of special import- 
 ance, because it would be the final and decisive one of five 
 which the two clubs were playing for a fine set of silk 
 flags, which had been offered as a trophy by some generous 
 friends of lacrosse in both villages. Each club had won 
 two matches, and now on the approaching Saturday the 
 fifth and final match would take place, rain or shine. 
 
 The rumour of Sam Massie being with the Riversides 
 had reached Heatherton early in the week, and caused no 
 little concern, some of the players being disposed to make 
 a protest if he appeared on the field, and even a refusal to 
 play. But Tom Brown would not listen to them. Sam 
 Massie was, for the time being at least, a resident in River- 
 side, and to object to his playing would be acting in a way 
 he did not approve of, so the dissatisfied ones were fain to 
 hold their tongues. 
 
 The eventful Saturday came, and was as fine as heart 
 could wish. It was Heatherton's turn to have the match, 
 and the home team rejoiced at this, because it would in 
 some measure compensate them for the advantage their 
 
 opi 
 wil 
 
IN THE NICK OF TIME. 
 
 IS3 
 
 opponents undoubtedly possessed in having Sam Massie 
 with them. 
 
 Never before had so large a crowd assembled to watch 
 the match. It really seemed as if half the population of 
 Riverside and three-fourths of the population of Heatherton 
 had turned out. The whole field was surrounded with a 
 fringe of spectators, ready to applaud every good point in 
 the game. 
 
 In due time the Riverside team made their appearance, 
 looking very jaunty in their blue jerseys, caps, and stock- 
 ings, and white knickerbockers, and all eyes were turned 
 upon them to discover the redoubtable Sam Massie. It 
 was easy to distinguish him from the others, and he cer- 
 tainly was a dangerous-looking player. 
 
 He was not of more than medium size, but the perfec- 
 tion of his condition, the graceful ease and quickness of 
 his movements, and the unfailing accuracy of his catching 
 and throwing, as the team indulged in the usual pre- 
 liminary exercise, impressed everybody with the idea that 
 he fully merited his reputation. 
 
 Cluu'lie Kent's place was centre-field, his quickness and 
 steadiness entitling him to that important position, while 
 Rob M'Kenzie was the next man betw^een him and the 
 opponent's goal. Charlie was very anxious to see where 
 the Riversides would put Massie, and was not at all sorry 
 when that player took his place at rover-point, for now 
 he would be certain to cross sticks with hiiu more than 
 once during the match, and find out just how strong a 
 man he was. 
 
 1] >■ 
 
w^m 
 
 i 
 
 154 
 
 IN THE NICK OF TIME. 
 
 Amid the breathless suspense of the spectators the two 
 teams lined up, were briefly adjured by the referee to 
 indulge in no rough play or fouls, and then in pairs 
 departed to their places, the white and blue of the River- 
 sides contrasting picturesquely with the white and crimson 
 of the Heathertons as the players strung out from goal to 
 goal. 
 
 " Are you all ready ? " cried the referee. 
 
 The captains nodded their heads, the two centre-fields 
 kneeled opposite one another for the face, the ball was 
 placed between the lacrosse sticks, and with a shout of 
 " Play " the referee sprang aside, and the struggle began. 
 
 There was a second's scuffle between the two centres, 
 and then the Heathertons raised a shout ; for Charlie had 
 got the ball away from his opponent, tipped it cleverly to 
 Kob, who, after a short run, had thrown it to " outside 
 home," and the Riverside goal was in danger. 
 
 But before outside home could do anything, Massie was 
 down upon him with the swoop of an eagle. With a sharp 
 check he knocked the ball off his stick, then picked it up 
 at once, and dashed away down the field, dodging in and 
 out between his two opponents like a veritable eel. Not 
 until he reached the Heatherton cover-point was he obliged 
 to stop, and then he took a shot at goal, which, but for the 
 plucky goalkeeper putting his broad chest squarely in the 
 w^ay, would certainly have scored. 
 
 Back the ball went, however, to the other goal, and 
 continued thus to travel up and down for fully fifteen 
 minutes before some skilful passing and sharp dodging on 
 

 
 IiV 
 
 THE NICK OF 
 
 TIME, 
 
 
 
 ^55 
 
 the part 
 
 of 
 
 the 
 
 Heatliertons 
 
 brought it in 
 
 front 
 
 of 
 
 the 
 
 lliverside 
 
 goal, w 
 
 hen, after a 
 
 hard 
 
 tussle, it 
 
 was 
 
 sw 
 
 iped 
 
 through by a lucky stroke from Charlie Kent. 
 
 Great was the elation of the Heathertons at scoring the 
 first game, 
 
 " Guess they're not invincible, after all, if they have Sam 
 Massie," said Charlie to Captain Brown. 
 
 " Mustn't crow too soon, Charlie," replied l^rown cau- 
 tiously. " We've got the afternoon before us yet," 
 
 When the Riversides, thanks to a brilliant run of 
 Massie's, won the next game in five minutes, Charlie felt 
 somewhat less confident ; and when, after a severe struggle, 
 they by a pure piece of luck took the third game in 
 twenty minutes, he began to feel a little down in the mouth. 
 
 But the winning of the fourth game by the Heathertons 
 braced him up again, and he went into the fifth and final 
 struggle with a brave and determined heart. 
 
 The excitement had now become intense. It had been 
 agreed before play commenced that the game should be 
 called at six o'clock, and if not then finished, played over 
 again at Riverside the following Saturday. 
 
 The Heathertons fully appreciated the advantage of 
 playing on their own ground, and were determined to settle 
 the fate of the flags before six o'clock if at all possible. 
 
 The Riversides were equally determined to play out the 
 time if they could do nothing better. Accordingly they 
 concentrated all their strength upon the defence, and sur- 
 rounded the redoubtable Sam Massie with the best men in 
 the team. 
 
)! r 
 
 156 
 
 IN THE NICK OF TIME. 
 
 a 
 
 W-'M 
 
 Once moro Charlie Kent won the face, and again tipped 
 to Rob, who did not fail to send it well down towards the 
 goal, but the stone-wall defence quickly sent it back. 
 Again and again the rubber sphere went flying through 
 tlie air or bounding along the ground towards the River- 
 side goal, and again and again it returned, not even being 
 permitted to stay there a moment. 
 
 The minutes passed quickly, and six o'clock drew near. 
 
 " Charlie, can't you and Rob manage to get that ball 
 down between you ? Never mind your places ; just play 
 for the goal," said Captain Brown earnestly to Charlie. 
 
 " All right, captain, we'll do our best," replied Charlie, 
 as he passed the word to Rob. 
 
 As luck would have it, the Riversides, grown bold by 
 their success, opened out their defence just then, and moved 
 nearer the Heatherton goal. Charlie's quick eye noted the 
 change of tactics instantly. ' 
 
 " Look sharp now, Rob," he called, and Rob nodded 
 meaningly. 
 
 A moment later the ball came flying his way, and 
 springing high he caught it cleverly, amid a howl of 
 applause from the spectators. Then signalling Rob to 
 keep parallel with him, he dashed off at full speed towards 
 the Riverside goal. 
 
 Charlie was lightly built and long-winded, and constant 
 practice had made him the fastest " sprinter " in Heather- 
 ton. But he had never run before as he had then. 
 
 The onlookers held their breath to watch him as he 
 sped on. One, two, three opponents were safely passed by 
 
 bri 
 bin 
 
IN THE NICK OF TIME. 
 
 157 
 
 brilliant dodging, and now only Sam Massie stood between 
 liim and the goal. 
 
 He knew it would be useless to try to dodge Sam. 
 But there was a better play. Before Sam could reach him 
 lie tipped the rubber over to Rob. Instantly Sam turned 
 upon Rob, and brought his stick down upon Rob's with a 
 resounding whack. But the ball was not there. Already 
 it was rolling towards Charlie, who had continued straight 
 on, and scooping it up from the ground, with a straight, 
 swift overhand throw he sent it flying through the goal- 
 posts just in time to allow the cry of " Goal ! goal! " to be 
 triumphantly raised ere the six-o'clock whistle sounded the 
 hour for calling the game. 
 
 Charlie Kent was, of course, the hero of the day. Sam 
 Massie, brilliantly as he had played, was quite forgotten. 
 But he did not forget to come up and clap Charlie warmly 
 on the back, saying, — ■ 
 
 " Bravo, my boy I You'll make a championship player 
 some day. You must come up to Toronto. We want your 
 kind up there." * . 
 

 SNOW-SHOEING. 
 
 ^T^HREE things have the "red children of the forest'' 
 l given to the white children of the cities which are 
 so perfect in their way that it is hardly possible there 
 will ever be an invention filed in the pigeon-holes of 
 the patent-office that will surpass them. The canoe for 
 shallow water and what miojlit be called cross-countv\' 
 navigation, the toboggan, and the snow-shoe for deep sno\v, 
 seem to be the very crown of human ingenuity, even 
 though they are only the devices of ignorant Indians. 
 One cannot help a feeling of hearty admiration when 
 looking at them, and noting how perfectly they fulfil the 
 purpose for wliich they were designed, and are at the same 
 time as light, graceful, and artistic in form and fashion as 
 the most finished work of highly-civilized folk. They nil 
 follow the line (jf beauty so closely that it is no wonder 
 the ladies love to decorate their drawinn'-rooms and boudoirs 
 M'ith them, or to have their pins and brooches modelled 
 after them. 
 
 To the Indian the 
 
 -shoo, and toboggan were 
 is the spade, the plough, 
 and the rake are to the fai-mer. Without them he could 
 
 quite as important impl 
 
 canoe, snow 
 ements j 
 
 iiy:kli--wL^ 
 
I 
 
 . 'i 
 
 ! t 
 
 II 
 
 III 
 
 sxow-9iror.iim. 
 
i6o 
 
 SNO W-SHOEING. 
 
 •• H: *!:■ 
 
 
 not in winter-time have roamed the snow-buried forests, 
 whose recesses supplied his table, or voyaged in the sum- 
 mer-time upon the broad rivers and swift-running streams, 
 whose bountiful waters furnished him their ready toll of 
 fish. His white brother has in adopting them put them 
 to a different use. He had no particular need for them 
 in his work, but he was quick to see how they would help 
 him in his play, and erelong they had all three become 
 favourite means of sport and recreation. 
 
 Snow-shoeing disputes with tobogganing the honour of 
 being Canada's national winter sport ; for although snow- 
 shoes have been seen in Siberia and Tartarv, and are us'od 
 to some extent in Scandinavia, in none of these places do 
 the people derive much amusement from them. Simple 
 as the snow-shoe seems, I would not advise any one to try 
 to make a pair for himself. Only the Indians can do 
 this really well, and even in Canada the vast majority of 
 shoes are put together by dusky hands. 
 
 This is how they make a shoe of three feet six inches, 
 which is a fair average si/e : — A piece of light ash about 
 half-an-inch thick, and at least ninety inches in length, is 
 bent to a long oval until the two ends touch, when the}' 
 are lashed strongly together with catgut. Two strips of 
 touji'h wood about an inch broad are then fitted across 
 this frame, one being placed about five inches from the 
 curving top, the other some twenty inches from the tnper- 
 ing end. The object of these strips is to give both 
 strength and spring to the shoe. The three sections into 
 which tlie interior of the frame has thus been divided are 
 
I 
 
 SNO W-SHOEING. 
 
 i6i 
 
 then woven across with catgut, each having a different 
 degree of fineness in the mesh, the top section being very 
 fine, the middle section, upon which ahnost the whole 
 strain comes, coarse and strong, and the end section a 
 medium grade between the other two. The gut in the 
 middle section is wound right around the framework for the 
 sake of greater strength, but in the other two is threaded 
 through holes bored at intervals of an inch or so. Just 
 behind the front cross-bar an opening about four inches 
 square is left in the gut netting, in order to allow free 
 play for the toes in lifting the shoe at each step. Both 
 wood and gut must be thoroughly seasoned, or else the 
 one will warp, and the other stretch and sag until the 
 shoe is altogether useless. 
 
 The shoes are made in many shapes and of many sizes, 
 ranging from two to si.x feet in length, and from ten to 
 twenty inches in breadth. But for all practical purposes 
 a shoe measuring three feet six inches by twelve or fifteen 
 inches is the best. In racing, narrower shoes are used, 
 but they rarely go below ten inches, i .at being the regula- 
 tion measurement for club competitions. Then, again, 
 some snow-shoes are turned up in front like tiny toboggans, 
 instead of being flat, this kind being worn principally by 
 ladies. 
 
 And now supposing that we have a pair of shoes entirely 
 to our satisfaction, let us constitute ourselves members of 
 a snow-shoe club, and take a tramp with it. Snow-shoeing 
 is immensely popular in Montreal, as all visitors to the 
 winter carnival well know. There are twenty or more 
 
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 ■JA^,.B f t! - 1'.!! ' !. ' !! 
 
 VMW^ I 
 
 
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 162 
 
 SJVO W-SHOEING. 
 
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 T 
 
 ■■- 
 
 
 organized clubs there, the memburship in most cases being 
 rigidly confined to the masculine gender, and every tine 
 night in the week, all winter long, some club or other has 
 a meet. Discipline is pretty strictly enforced at these club 
 tramps, and seeing how earnestly the members go about 
 the business, an onlooker might well be pardoned for 
 thinking that there was quite as much work as play in 
 this particular amusement. The pace set and the distance 
 travelled are both beyond the powers of beginners, so that 
 unless one is willing to stand a good deal of merciless 
 chaffing, and have a pretty hard time of it altogether, it is 
 better to wait until fairly familiar with the use of tlie 
 raquet (the French name for the snow-shoe) before joining 
 a club. 
 
 Lot us imagine, then, that it is one of those glorious 
 nights in midwinter when this dull old earth of ours seems 
 transformed into fairy-land. The snow lies in white depths 
 upon the ground, dry and firm as ocean sand ; Jack Frost 
 lias brought the mercury away down some points below 
 zero, and the keen air sets every nerve a-tingle ; a superb 
 full-orbed moon swings high in the heavens, flooding the 
 wintry world with her silver splendour, and a hundred 
 active, muscular young fellows have gathered at the rendez- 
 vous, clothed in white blanket coats with rainbow bordei's, 
 brilliant blue sashes and tuques (conical knitted caps sacred 
 to snow-shoeing), knickerbockers of the same material ns 
 the coats, and stockings of the same colour as the sashes. 
 while on their feet are soft moccasins skilfully decorated 
 by Indian fingers. Sharp on time the club captain arrives, 
 
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THK START, 
 
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 11 
 
 164 
 
 SNOW-SHOEING. 
 
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 and in a trice all hands are down upon their knees fasten 
 ing the raquets to their feet. 
 
 " Are you all ready ? " sliouts the captain. A hearty 
 chorus of " Ay, ay," rings out on the keen air. " Off, then ! " 
 he answers, striding rapidly away, his followers stringing 
 out in a long line behind, for the walking is always done 
 in Indian file, and they set forth to attack the mountain, 
 which towers up so grandly behind the city, forming one 
 of the finest parks in the world. 
 
 The line of march is made up very simply. The cap- 
 tain, who is selected for that much-coveted position because 
 of his renown for speed and endurance, as well as his 
 knowledge of the best routes, takes the lead. The rank 
 and file follow in any order they please, and the rear is 
 brought up by the whipper-in. Although the post of 
 whipper-in is not much coveted, that officer ranks next in 
 importance to the captain, and should be one of the strong- 
 est and most experienced members in the club. His really 
 arduous duties are to quicken up the laggards, assist the 
 unfortunate, and inspire the despondent, for upon him it 
 depends to have the club all in together at the end of the 
 tramp. Wending along the snow-covered tree-bordei-ed 
 paths, or diving deep into the forest where there are no 
 paths at all, the long thin line climbs steadily upward, 
 growing longer as the steep ascent begins to tell upon the 
 weaker ones, and they lag behind. At length the summit 
 is reached, and a halt is called for a few minutes, that the 
 panting, perspiring climbers may get their breath, and 
 close up the gaps in their ranks. 
 
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 TllK CLOSE. 
 
 
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 i66 
 
 SNO W-SIIOEING. 
 
 " All up ? " inquires the captain. " All up, ' is the cheery 
 response. " Then forward ! " and off" they go again, this 
 time down instead of up, with head thrown back, shoul- 
 ders braced firmly, muscles at high tension, and eyes alert 
 for dangers in the shape of hidden stumps or treacherous 
 tree branches. Faster and faster grows the pace as the 
 impetus of the decline is more and more felt, the shoes 
 rattle like castanets, and the long line of white-coated, 
 blue-capped figures undulates in and out among the tree 
 clumps, appearing, vanishing, and reappearing like some 
 monstrous serpent in full chase after its prey. 
 
 Ha ! What's that ? A fence right across the path ? 
 What is to be done now ? The leader soon answers this 
 question, for over the obstacle he goes as lightly as a bird, 
 and his followers imitate him as best they may, some 
 being content to crawl gingerly across by dint of hands 
 and knees. One luckless wight, tripping on the top, takes 
 a sudden header into the .snow-bank on the other side, 
 leaving only a pair of legs in sight to mark the place or 
 his downfall. But the whipper-in comes to the rescue, and 
 soon has him on his shoes again. What between fences, 
 hedges, ditches, and other difficulties, the line is far from 
 bemg well ivept up. Gaps are frequent and wide. Some 
 have fallen, and lost time in getting upright ; others have 
 been outstripped ; but the leaders, like time and tide, wait 
 for no man, and soon the welcome lights of the club-house, 
 nestling in the valley, flash cheeringly across the snow. 
 
 Then the captain pauses a few minutes, that those who 
 have been di.stanced may regain their places ; and all being 
 
SNOW-SHOEING 
 
 167 
 
 once more together, a final spurt at racing speed brings 
 them, with shouts of joy and sighs of relief, to their goal. 
 Here shoes are slipped off tired feet, coats and tuques 
 thrown gleefully aside, and parched mouths cooled with 
 refreshing drinks. An hour or more is spent in rest and 
 frolic, and then the return journey made by the well-beaten 
 road with the shoes strapped upon the back. 
 
 The distance " across the mountain " is nearly three 
 miles, yet it has been done by an amateur in sixteen min- 
 utes twenty-eight seconds, which, considering the nature 
 of the course, is remarkably good going. The best ama- 
 teur time for a hundred yards on the flat is twelve and 
 a half seconds, so that, clumsy and cumbersome as the 
 raquets may seem at first glance, they are really a verj- 
 slight bar to speed when the wearer is thoroughly expert 
 in their use. 
 
 Hare and hounds on snow-shoes is a sport that must 
 commend itself to all strong and vigorous boys who have 
 a taste for cross-country work, if only for the reason that 
 the snow-shoes make the sport possible at a time when it 
 would otherwise be out of the question. The " hare " can 
 be followed by his tracks, thus doing away with the neces- 
 sity of carrying cumbrous bags of paper " scent." 
 
 Snow-shoeing differs from many other sports in being 
 very easy to learn. Once you have mastered the art of 
 sliding one shoe over the other with very much the same 
 motion that you would make in skating, instead of lifting 
 it up high as though you were wading in deep snow, as 
 yon are sure to do at first — once you properly understand 
 
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 SNOIV-SHOE/NG. 
 
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 this your chief difficulty is conquered, and proficiency 
 conies with a little practice. 
 
 Throughout the length and breadth of Canada snow- 
 shoeing is popular with young and old Every centre of 
 population has its clubs. Competitions are held every 
 winter, at which tempting prizes are offered to the winners 
 in races at different distances, from one hundred yards up 
 to ten miles. 
 
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THE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM. 
 
 F' 
 
 ^RANK, Frank ! Hold on there a second," cried Jack 
 Stone breathlessly, as he ran after his friend. 
 
 Frank halted until Jack caught up to him. 
 
 " Well, Jack, what's your news ? You seem to be 
 excited about something," said ho. 
 
 " So I am," panted Jack, " for I've big news to tell you. 
 Uncle William has offered a sovereign to the fellow that 
 makes the best time swimming across the North-west 
 Arm. What do you think of that ? " 
 
 " Why, I think it's just splendid of him, and I'm going 
 to try, for one." 
 
 " And I, too, you may be sure. And George Murray 
 and Hal Hennning say they're going in. I was telling 
 them about it this morning. Of course we can't all win , 
 but the more the merrier, you know, and I think you and 
 I will stand as good a chance as any of them." 
 
 " Just about as good," assented Frank, " That is, if none 
 of the big boys are allowed to try. Did your uncle make 
 any rule about that ? " » 
 
 " Of course he did," replied Jack. " Nobody over fifteen 
 can compete." 
 
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170 THE S]VIMMIN(r MATCH AT THE ARM. 
 
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 "Oil, tliat'.s all ri_!:,^ht ! And it'.s only fair, too," said 
 Frank, evidently much relieved. 
 
 " S'pose we go out and have a practice this afternoon," 
 siig'gested Jack. '• It's so hot that the water ought to bo 
 as warm as milk." 
 
 " All right ! " said Frank. " Just wait till I leave this 
 parcel at the house and get a couple of towels, and then 
 I'm with you," 
 
 Accordingly, a few minutes later the two boys, with 
 towels in hand, were trudging toward the North-west Arm, 
 impatient to be in the water, for the sun was sending down 
 lots of heat that sunnner afternoon. 
 
 Frank Brookfield and Jack Stone were very great friends ; 
 had been so, indeed, almost from their nursery days. They 
 got along about as well together as two boys who had each 
 his own share of spirit and selfishness could ; and although 
 they were rivals m a good many of their boyish sports, 
 they had a wise way of looking at the matter, for, next to 
 coming out first himself, each was eager that the other 
 should, and consequently they had no occasion to quarrel 
 over the result. 
 
 In the science of swimming they were very evenly 
 matched ; what Jack lacked in strength as compared with 
 Frank, who stood an inch taller, being about made up by 
 a superiority in style that was natural to him in everything 
 he did. 
 
 Hot as the afternoon was, they were too eager for their 
 dip to walk slowly, and when they reached the projecting 
 rock from which thev were accustomed to bathe — Black 
 
THE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM. 171 
 
 Rock it, was called, being a mass of dfivk, rusty iron-stone 
 — tlicy were both very warm and in a high state of 
 perspiration. 
 
 This, however, would not have mattered much if they 
 had undressed inniiediately and plunged right in ; but 
 instead of doing so, they laid aside their outer clothes and 
 then sat down to cool ott', thus allowing a reaction to set in 
 that came near having serious consequences. 
 
 When they thought they had cooled sufficiently, thoy 
 finished their undressing and were ready for the water. 
 
 " I've half a mind to swim clear across," said Frank, as 
 they stood out on the end of the rock, hesitating for a 
 moment, as all swimmers do, before diving into the cool, 
 green depths. 
 
 " Better not," said Jack, who was the more cautious of 
 the two. " You might be too tired to swim back." 
 
 "Well, then, I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll swim 
 out to the middle and back again, aiid that'll be just the 
 distance for the race." 
 
 " All right ! Here goes ! " assented Jack. 
 
 And with a plump I plump ! tlie two boys, like two 
 ii'ioantic bull-froiis, went head first into the water, coming 
 up again three or four yards away, with dripping heads 
 and blinking eyes, and striking out vigorously toward 
 the centre of the Arm. 
 
 " Ah, but it's cold ! " exclaimed Frank, half gasping. 
 
 " You bet," concurred Jack, very heartily — " cold as ice ! 
 Wl;at business has the water to be so cold on such a broiling- 
 day as this?" 
 
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 THE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM. 
 
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 III 
 
 "Oh, it's just a little way it has/' said Frank. "But 
 cold or not cold, I'm going out to the middle." 
 
 And with a powerful overhand stroke he ploughed his 
 way through the rippled brine, his shoulders gleaming 
 white as he bent to his work. 
 
 Jack, using the ordinary breast stroke, kept close up to 
 him, and they worked too hard to do much talking until 
 the centre of the Arm was reached, and they could see the 
 whole beautiful sheet of water from end to end. 
 
 Then they paused, and Frank, saying he was beginning 
 to feel tired, turned over on his back for a little rest, Jack 
 forthwith imitating his example. 
 
 " Sakes alive, Init this water is cold '. " cried Jack. " If 
 we stay in it much longer we'll be getting the cramps. 
 Let's make for the shore." 
 
 " All right ! Go ahead ; I'm after you," replied 
 Frank. 
 
 Jack accordingly turned his face shoreward, and, trying 
 the side stroke now, was making pretty good progress, 
 having got about half-way in, when a cry from Frank, who 
 was a few yards behind, made him stop suddenly and wheel 
 round to see what was the matter. 
 
 " Come here, Jack," said Frank, in a troubled voice. 
 
 And Jack immediately went back to him. 
 
 " What's the matter, old chap ? " asked he anxiously 
 
 " Why," answered Frank, " I seem to be losing all my 
 strength. See ! I can hardly take a stroke." 
 
 And, sure enough, his strength seemed to have left him, 
 and instead of the wide, powerful sweeps he usually made, 
 
THE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM. 173 
 
 lie could manage to do little more than paddle enough with 
 his hands to keep his head afloat. 
 
 The fact of the matter was that ho had been seized with 
 muscular cramp, and was in great danger, for tliere was no 
 boat in sight, and the shore lay nearly fifty yards away, 
 with water deep enough between to swallow an ocean 
 •steamer. 
 
 Jack fully realized the danger, but was too sensible to 
 say so. Taking a firm grasp of Frank's right shoulder 
 with his left hand, he said cheerily. — 
 
 " Come along now ; I'll give you a lift.'' 
 
 Then, putting forth all his strength, he pushed Frank 
 forward ; while the latter could just manage to keep his 
 head above water, and pointed in the right direction. 
 
 In this fashion they crept slowly along, Frank growing 
 more helpless and Jack more tired every yard. Frank 
 now could not even keep his mouth above water, for the 
 deadly cramp was drawing him all together, his back being- 
 bent like a bow, and his arms and legs contracted until 
 they were almost altogether useless. 
 
 Jack, too, began to feel the cruel cold fastening upon 
 him, and his strength departing from him. His heart sank 
 as he looked at the distance still ahead, and felt himself 
 weakening at every stroke. 
 
 In his extremity, the temptation to let go of Frank, and 
 strike for the shore alone, even flashed into his mind, only 
 to be contemptuously dismissed with the silent resolution 
 to stay by his friend whatever happened. 
 
 At length, by dint of grim determination, Jack got Frank 
 
174 THE SWTMMTNG MA'J'CH AT THE ARAL 
 
 ■vvitliin ten yards of the shore, and then, feeling as thougli 
 any furtlier etlbrt on liis part were impossible, he gave him 
 a big push forward, saying, — 
 
 " Now then, Frank, do the rest yourself." 
 
 With a nnittted, half-finished cry of " For heaven's sake, 
 Jack ! " poor Frank, utterly helpless, went under, hnlf 
 turning over on his l)aek as he did so. 
 
 Not for a moment did Jack hesitate. Weak and chilled 
 as he was, the sight of his playmate's peril nerved him to 
 fresh exertions, and summoning all his energies for one 
 supreme final effort, he grasped Frank's shoulder once more, 
 and with desperate spasmodic strokes fought his Avay 
 through the water. 
 
 Never will he forget that wrestle with death. Frank, 
 fortunately, still keeping collected and quiet, could get but 
 an occasional breath, for now nearly his whole face was 
 submerged, and Jack himself seemed to be swimming in 
 some d.'nse tluid that stubbornly opposed the movements 
 of his arms. But foot bv foot lie struggled on, until at 
 length, just when every atom of strength and hope seemed 
 exh.austed, he saw below him the dark, seaweed -covered 
 rock, and putting down his foot, found solid bottom be- 
 neath him. 
 
 " Thank the merciful Father, we're saved, Frank ! "' he 
 cried, half subbingly, as he drew his companion w\) on to 
 the rock. 
 
 "God bless you, Jack' you've saved my life," replied 
 F'rank, with a fervour that showed how clearly he under- 
 stood the magnitude ot tl»e peril thi'ough which he had 
 
T?TE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM. 175 
 
 passed. "Yes, Jack, 3'011've saved my life, and some day 
 I'll show vou how j^Tatefiil I ain." 
 
 " Oh, that's all right ! " said Jack. " You'd do the same 
 for me if you had the chance." 
 
 " I hope I won't have the chance, all the same," answered 
 Frank, " for perhaps I wouldn't keep as cool as you did ; 
 and then where Avould we be ? " 
 
 Half-an-hour's basking in the hot sun took all the cramp 
 out of the ^oys' bodies, and they went back home, not a 
 whit the worse for their cxperii.'nce, and a good deal wiser. 
 They kf^pt the matter to themselves, prudently thinking- 
 it n - only alarm their parents if it came to their cars, 
 and perhaps make them worry, while really there was no 
 occasion for further anxietv. 
 
 The following Saturday afternoon was the time fixed 
 for the swimming race, and the two friends practised 
 diligently, determined that the sovereign should fall to one 
 of them at all events, or perhaps be divided between them 
 if they came out a tie. 
 
 The eagerly-anticipated day dawned sunnily, and proved 
 as fine, bright, and warm as heart could wish. A great 
 deal of interest was felt in the swimming race, for at least 
 six boys had entered for it, and in the afternoon the Arm, 
 at the place wIk^'c the swinnning would take place, was 
 dotted over with boats, containing the fathei's, mothers,, 
 sisters, cousins, aunts, and friends of the ditlerent con- 
 testants. 
 
 Uncle William (or, to give him his proper titles, Afr, 
 William (^unard) was the judge at the tinish, and the six 
 
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 176 T/IE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM, 
 
 boys, wearing tlie scantiest possible bathing suits, were 
 rowed across to the other side of the Arm in boats. 
 
 " I'm awfully excited," said Jack Stone to Frank Brook- 
 field on the way over, in so low a tone that none of the 
 other boys heard him. " Father says he'll double the prize 
 if I win. But if I don't win, I hope to goodness yon 
 will." 
 
 " Whoever wins will have a hard fight for it," said Frank. 
 "' Both George and Hal can swim like fishes. I don't know 
 about the other two." 
 
 Presently the boat touched the shore, and the boys all 
 leaped out and took up their positions upon the ledge of 
 rock from which they were to start. 
 
 " Are you ready ? " called out the starter. " Then 
 go. 
 
 And with a tremendous splash the whole six plunged 
 into the water like one man. 
 
 The next moment they w^ere all at the surface again, 
 and cleaving the calm water at the top of their speed. 
 
 Frank was using liis favourite overhand stroke. Jack 
 the side stroke, and the rest the ordinary breast stroke. 
 
 For some distance there was little difference between 
 them. You might have covered them with a handkerchief, 
 so to speak. Then, little by little, Frank and Jack, keep- 
 ing well together, began to draw away from George and 
 Hal, wlio in their turn led the other two. 
 
 By the time the centre of the Arm was readied, it was 
 plain to all that the rac(^ lay between the two friends, and 
 amid cheers and shouts of "Go it, Frank!" "Hit ^»'r up, 
 
THE SJVLUMIXG MATCH AT THE ARM. 177 
 
 Jack ! " " Pretty work, Lotli of you ; keep it up ! " they 
 plouglied through the water side by side. 
 
 
 
 ' JACK FELT IIIMSKH' W LAKENlMi. " 
 
 Tliree-fourths of the distnnco was now covered, and their 
 positions were nnchang<'d, wl\i'n with a pang that went 
 light to his hoai't Jack felt himself weakening. 
 
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 178 THE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM. 
 
 Inch by incli his stroke shortened, and first Frank's 
 head, then liis neck, then his shoulders slipped past 
 him. 
 
 Gritting his teeth with fierce determination, and breath- 
 ing hard, he strained every nerve to recover his lost ground ; 
 but all in vain. Frank gained steadily until his heels were 
 in a line with Jack's head. 
 
 Already they M^ere raising the shouts of victory, when 
 Frank, turning to see what lead he had, caught sight of 
 Jack's pale face, in which disappointment and despair were 
 already showing themselves, and it brought up in his mind 
 that same face a week before, when, pallid but resolute, 
 just as it was now, it cut the water close beside him, while 
 the boy to whom it belonged struggled so bravely with the 
 death that threatened. 
 
 A mist came in his eyes and a lump rose in his throat 
 as he thought of this 
 
 " He saved my life," he murmured to himself. 
 
 " Hallo ! what's up with Frank ? " said Mr. Cunard. 
 " He has almost stopped. Ho must be done oiit. Just 
 shove out that boat there toward him, will you ? " 
 
 " Go on and win, old chap," said Frank to Jack, when 
 the latter came up to him. " I'm used up. I'll just paddle 
 in slowly. Oh, I'm all right," he added, as Jack showed 
 signs of stopping to help him. " Tired out, that's all." 
 
 Cheer after cheer rang out as Jack, nearly exhausted 
 himself, but undaunted in spirit, swept by Frank, now 
 paddling quite leisurely, and finished the course amidst a 
 general chorus of congratulation. 
 
THE SWIMMING MATCH AT THE ARM. 179 
 
 He felt as proud as Punch, and when Frank came asliore, 
 threw his arms around him ati'ectionately, saying, — 
 
 " You're a dear, good fellow to let me beat you." 
 
 Not that he had the slightest suspicion as to how it had 
 really happened. 
 
 Frank never told him. Indeed he never told anybody 
 except his mother, and she alone of all tlie people who 
 witnessed it knew the secret of Frank Brookfield's sudden 
 collapse in the swinniiing match at the Arm. 
 
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 HAROLD'S LASTING IMPRESSION. 
 
 AROLD, Harold, Harold ! " cried Mrs. Owen, at tlie 
 top of her clear, strong voice, her anxiety increas- 
 ing as no answer came back. " Mercy on me ! what can 
 have become of that boy ? As sure as anything, he has 
 gone down to the wharf again — and after all that I have 
 said to him too. I do wish something would make a last- 
 ing impression upon him." And with a feeling of un- 
 easiness she could not shako off, the troubled mother went 
 back to her house-work, sighing over her boy's disobedience. 
 Now Harold Owen was not really a bad boy. He loved 
 his mother dearly, and always felt sorry when he had 
 grieved her ; but he was such a thoughtless little chap. 
 Eight years old last October ; stout, clieery, and brave ; 
 full to overflowing of animal spirits ; eager to do every- 
 thing he saw the older boys doing, and always wanting to 
 be with them ; quite as heedless find forgetful as he was 
 affectionate and obliging, sturdy little Hal was just the 
 kind of boy to make a mother whose only cliild he was no 
 less anxious than proud about him. And in these lovely 
 summer days, when nobody wanted to be indoors between 
 daylight and dark, except to eat their meals, poor Mrs 
 
 |:a[; 
 
HAROLD'S LASTING IMPRESSION. 
 
 i8i 
 
 Owen had her hamls full in trying to keep track of her 
 son, who would stray ott' in spite of her orders to stay near 
 home. You see, Harold did not just mean to flatly disobey 
 his mother. For days together he would do exactly what 
 she tokl him, and make her very liappy. But every now 
 and then some of the boys in tlie neighbourhood — Jack 
 Hardie, perhaps, or Frank Lawson — would come along, and 
 get talking with Hal over the warden fence ; and as sure 
 as they did, it ended in the little fellow's forgetting all 
 about his mother's connnands, and going otf to the wharves, 
 where sometimes he stayed so long as to give his mother 
 quite a fright. 
 
 That was exactly what had happened this glorious July 
 morning, when ]\Irs. Owen, missing her boy's shouts from 
 the front garden, ran out to the door, her bare arms all 
 white with flour, for she had been making a cake, and 
 called " Harold, Harold, Harold ! " so loud that you might 
 have heard her half-way down to the wharves. If, indeed, 
 she could have been heard all the way down, ]:)erhaps her 
 call might have brouLiht Harold back ; and in that case 
 he should not have got his lasting impression, and I would 
 have had no story to tell. But just at this time our little 
 man was altogether too much taken up with what Jack 
 Hardie was telling him to hear anything less noisy than a 
 steam-engine. 
 
 " I'll bet my boots, Hal, you never saw such a funny 
 little chap in your life. He is aV)0ut as big as our baby, 
 but nothing like so fat, and he has long hair all over him — 
 over his face too — and he jumps around, and talks away 
 
 
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 HAROLD'S LASTING JMrRESSION. 
 
 INIII 
 
 ut the fellows, and sits up on liis hind leys to cat nuts and 
 crackers. Oli, I tell you he's lots of fun!" 
 
 This ^vas part of Jack's account of a very interesting 
 monkey belonging to the hlack cook of a large ship then 
 at tho wharf ; and it was the promise of showing him this 
 monkey — what (^ight-year-old boy could resist such a 
 temptation ? — that had lured Ilal away from home. 
 Down to tho wharf they ran as fast as their legs could 
 carry them, and there they found hall'-a-dozen other 
 youngsters much about their own age, all evidently bent 
 on the same erraml. The stately Ixvaencutk lay right 
 across tho end of the wharf, and was being fed with long, 
 yellow,, sweet-smelling deals that would mak(! houses in 
 England some day. The boys stood for a while watching 
 the huge planks sliding through the bow-ports into tho 
 dark mysterious hold, and then there was a general rush 
 for the stern, where they expected to iind the ro]3e-ladder 
 by which they would clind) on board. But, much to 
 their disappointment, no ladder could they see, and no 
 way of climbing up except a thick rope that dangled over 
 the side, reaching quite down to the wharf ; the truth of 
 the matter being that the sailors, getting rather tired of 
 the boys' frecpient invasions, jiad taken away the ladder 
 and put the rope in its place, thiidcing thus to put a stop 
 to their coming on board. The tide was high, and the 
 great black hull of the ship towered above the wharf like 
 the side of a house. The bo3^s looked pretty blank at 
 fir.st ; but then 3'ou know it takes a good deal to stop an 
 enterprising boy when his heart is set on anything ; and 
 
HA RO I. ITS LASTING IMPRESSION. 
 
 l»3 
 
 presently, after a little talk together, Jack Hanlit^ .snid ho 
 
 Avould SCO if he couldn't shin up the rope. So he clasped 
 
 the r(jpo ti^ht in his hrown tists, twined his 
 
 strong legs aroun<l it, and up he went, not 
 
 very fast, to be sure, but gaining a 
 
 bit at every ^vriggle, until at last lie 
 
 reached the l)ulwarks, and the 
 
 boys gave hiui a cheer as he y . 
 
 called out, " Come /'^/'^■■\ 
 
 RESCUER AND UEHCUEI).— .9fil JWye KJ. 
 
 along, fellows ; it's not so hard ; you can all do it." 
 Frank Lawson tried next, and lie got up all right. Then 
 Charley "Wright followed. And now^ ]\1 aster Harold thought 
 he wHuild try his luck. So, too, did Jim Norton ; and 
 when Harold got the rope first, it made Jim so cross that, 
 like the rough, heedless chap he was, he gave Hal an angry 
 
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 184 HAROLD'S LASTING IMPRESSION. 
 
 push just as the little man had let go from the wharf, aiul 
 was clinging to the rope. 
 
 Of course, Jim did not really mean any harm, but he 
 came pretty near doing dreadful harm all the same ; for 
 his push was such a hard one that it loosened unlucky 
 little Hal's hold upon the rope, and with a cry of fright 
 down he dropped between the vessel and the wharf, falling 
 with a great splash into the dark green water. 
 
 Poor little Hal ! you may well wish you had not dis- 
 obeyed your mother's or'Iers, for now there is small chance 
 of your ever being able to disobey them again. The tide 
 had begun to run out, and although Harold struggled up 
 to the surface twice, so that his terrified playmates caught 
 a glimpse of his pale, frightened face for a moment, the 
 cruel current dragged him down again, and the horrid salt 
 water rushed into his mouth, as he opened it to ciy for 
 help. His father had given him some lessons in swimming 
 that summer, and he tried to put them in practice now, 
 striking out bravely with his plump fists and sturdy legs ; 
 but of course such swinnning as that could not help him, 
 and he sank deeper and deeper. Then at last he gave up 
 trying to save himself. He lost all sense of suffering, and 
 as he drifted passively away with the current, a strange 
 thing happened to him — something that he will never 
 forget, though he lives a hundred years — and it was this : 
 all his past life appeared before his mind in a series of 
 pictures, in fact, just like the panorama of the American 
 rebellion he had enjoyed the winter before. All his doings, 
 good and bad, but more particularly the bad ones, seemed 
 
HAROLD'S LASTING IMPRESSION. 
 
 l8! 
 
 and 
 
 to come up clearly before him, and as he saw what a 
 naughty, thoughtless boy he had been, lie felt sorry enough 
 never to disobey his dear, fond mother again. But wasn't 
 it too late now ? 
 
 « * » # » 
 
 What .' up in the sunshine once more, and sitting on the 
 solid yellow deals, with his companions crowding round 
 him, laughing and crying, and patting him on the back, 
 and acting so comically, while all the time the water is 
 dripping down off his clothes, and making a puddle at his 
 feet, and he does feel so uncomfortable underneath his 
 blouse. And who is the big strong man standing near, 
 Just as wet as himself, and looking at him with his hand- 
 some bronzed face full of pride and pleasure ? And isn't 
 that father coming down the wharf as hard as he can run, 
 with face so white that he looks like a ghost ? 
 
 Bewildered little Hal couldn't at first understand what 
 it all meant ; and when his father, catching him up in his 
 arms, pressed him passionately to his breast, the little man 
 just burst out crying, and hid his wet face on his father's 
 shoulder. In this fashion he went back home, the boys 
 following in a triumphal procession. 
 
 An hour afterwards, when ^last*n- Harold had got rid of 
 the uncomfortable feeling under his blouse, and put on a 
 warm, dry suit of clothes. Jack Hardie told him how, when 
 he fell plump into the water, the l»oys had all shouted out 
 for help ; and how the mate of the liosencath had sprung 
 out of his cabin at the first cry, and, directed by Jack, 
 without waitinir even to take off his coat, had dived riixht 
 
 m 
 
 II 
 
 I 
 
l86 
 
 I/ARO/J) S LASTING IMPRESSION. 
 
 I 
 
 ! 
 
 
 down into the doop, dark water ; how ho had come up once 
 without finding Hal, and, after taking breath, had gone 
 down a second time in search of him ; how he had InmtcMl 
 around in tlic ^vater until at last, seeing something hlack 
 below him, lie had stretched down his leg, and his toe 
 catching Hal under the cliin, the gallant mate drew hiin 
 up into his arms, and then made for the daylight ; and 
 how, when Harold iirst came out of the water, he seemed 
 to be dead, but in a few minutes came to life again, and 
 sat up, blinking his eyes like a young baby. All this, and 
 more too, did Jack Hardie, proud of having such an 
 audience — for, besides Mr. and Mrs. Owen, a dozen or more 
 of the neighbours had lun in to hear all about it — relate 
 with great gusto And as Harold realized how very near 
 lie had come to losin<>' his life, and looked into his darling' 
 mother's facii streaming with tears of joy and gratitude, 
 which but for the brave sailor would have been tears of 
 bitter sorrow, he gathered up his little features into a most 
 determined expression, and said, — 
 
 " Mother, I'll never disobey you again." 
 
 Thus did his mother get her wish, and Master Harold 
 his lasting impression, which many a time .saved him from 
 falling again into disobedience. 
 
HOW WILBERFORCE BRENNAN VISITEJ) 
 WHITE BEAR CASTLE. 
 
 - -s-^-^gf^^-*-*-^ 
 
 WIL13Y ! Wilby ! conic licre ; I want you," called 
 a woman's shrill voice at the foot of the stairs. 
 
 And down from the little attic room came the answer 
 promptly, — 
 
 '• All right, mother ; I'm just coming." 
 
 A n.dnute later a stout, h.earty lad of iit'teen i)resented 
 himself before his mother, an 1 dutifully awaited hur com- 
 mands. 
 
 "Why, Wilby," said she, "I was just thinking I had 
 better send you over to Aunt Matilda's to ti'U hci* that 
 your father was going to town to-morrow, She's ])retty 
 sure to want liiin to do something for her, and he goes 
 so seldom nowadays she 11 be disappointed if we don'<-, let 
 lier know." 
 
 " Well, mother," replidl tin' boy, looking rather doubt- 
 fully out of the window, from which a vast expanse of 
 ilcsolate, snow-covered fields could be seen, " its not just 
 the Ijest kind of an afternoon io be going away over to 
 aunty's. There's a heap of snow on tlie ground, it's 
 awfully cold, and the wind's rising." 
 
 \\ 
 
 •ts 
 
 i » 
 
 I 
 
 Iff 
 
i88 HO IV IVILBERFORCE BRENNAN VISITED 
 
 " Tut ! what does a big strong boy like you care for the 
 cold ? Besides, you can put on your snow-shoes, and take 
 the short cut through the wood-lot. You won't feel the 
 wind in the woods. I really must send Aunt Matilda 
 word, and father won't have time to go over himself." 
 
 " Very well, mother, if I must I must, I suppose ; but, 
 all the same, I wish it could wait i/ill to-morrow." 
 
 So saying, Wilby, with a sigh of resignation, went off 
 to get ready for his tramp. 
 
 It was no trifling affair, this errand over to Aunt 
 Matilda's, I can tell you. She lived six good miles away 
 by the road, and even taking the short cut through the 
 pasture and wood-lot, it was not less than four miles. 
 
 Of course, with fine weather and good going, four miles 
 was not much of a task for Wilby's sturdy legs, and he 
 never failed to get so warm a welcome and such delicious 
 cake at his auiit's that generally he was only too glad to 
 go. But in mid-winter, with four feet of snow on the 
 ground, the thermometer right down to zero, and the wind 
 cutting like a knife, it seemed a very different matter. 
 
 However, Wilby, as his mother called him for short 
 (Wilberforce being kept for company or for when she 
 wanted to be very emphatic), was quite as plucky as he 
 was obedient, and a quarter of an hour after his mother 
 first called him he started out on his errand, muffled np 
 to the eyes, with his snow-shoes well strapped to his feet, 
 and his good dog Oscar trotting along beside him. It was 
 well for him that he did have wise old Oscar, as we shall 
 presently see. 
 
WHITE BEAR CASTLE. 
 
 T89 
 
 Bending his head low, so as to protect his face as much 
 as possible from the keen wind, and swinging his arms 
 to and fro in time with his stride, Wilby went swiftly- 
 down the hillside, across the river, and up the other slope, 
 until he reached the shelter of the woods, where the wind 
 botheref' him no longer, and ho could take things more 
 quietly. 
 
 Oscar ran soberly along at his heels, and Wilby was 
 glad of his company, for the short winter day was already 
 drawing to a close, and the lonely wood-lot was not the 
 most cheerful place in the world to be in at that time. 
 
 Wilby was a great boy fo? books, and had just finished 
 reading Colonel Knox's delightful story, " The Voyage of 
 the Vivian," of which the most interesting part to him 
 had been that relating to th? polar bears ; and now, as he 
 trudged steadily along through the silent woods, he fell to 
 thinking about these bears, and wondering what he should 
 do supposing he should, meet one. 
 
 Of course, he knew well enough that the nearest white 
 bear was at least a thousand miles away, and that even 
 an ordinary black bear had not been seen in that neigh- 
 bourhood for years ; but, all the same, he could not get 
 tliose cruel white monsters out of his thoughts. In fact, 
 he became quite nervous over them, and would peer eagerly 
 ahead and anxiously around, just as if one of them might 
 rush in upon him at any nunut(\ 
 
 At length his nervousness got so much the better of 
 liim that walking seemed altogether too slow, and he 
 started off on the hard run. Only two miles of the di.s- 
 
 « 
 
 II 
 
 I 
 
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 J 
 
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 i. 
 
VTW' 
 
 190 //OJV WI LB ER FORCE BRENNAN VISITED 
 
 i 
 
 III 
 
 tance to Aunt Matilda's was left at this time, and one of 
 these soon disappeared as Wilby hurried onward, witli 
 Oscar bounding joyfully beside him. 
 
 Ten minutes more at the farthest, and they would be 
 safe at their destination. Already "Wilby thought he 
 could catch througli the trees a gleam of light from the 
 kitchen window, when suddenly something unfortunate 
 happened. 
 
 It had been hard work keeping to the wood path, so 
 buried was it under the snow ; and he must have strayed 
 a little from it, for he found his way barred by a huge 
 tree-trunk, which certainly ought not to have been there. 
 
 The wisest thing, of course, would have been to retrace 
 his steps a bit ; but instead of that, WilV>y rashly tried a 
 running leap over the obstacle, and it was not a success. 
 
 Without snow-shoes he might have cleared it easily ; 
 but with these encumbrances on his feet, he not only made 
 a very poor attempt, but in some way or other they got 
 entangled together, and in a violent effort to keep his 
 balance, he sprained his right ankle so badly that, to his 
 great dismay, he found he could no longer bear any weight 
 upon it. 
 
 Here was a pretty state of affairs indeed ! A wdiole 
 mile from Aunt Matilda's, not yet clear of the woods, not 
 a living soul within reach of his voice, his right leg utterly 
 useless and hurting awfully, and the cold growing more 
 intense every minute ! 
 
 It did not take poor Wilby long to realize that he was 
 in no little danger. As he could do nothing with his 
 
WHITE BEAR CASTLE, 
 
 191 
 
 snow-shoes, he took tlicni oft", and tried to get along with- 
 out them ; but the snow was so diy and soft timt he sank 
 right into it, and could make no advance at all. 
 
 His only hope seemed to be to shout at the top of his 
 voice on the small chance of somebody hearing him. So 
 he called for help with all his might. 
 
 Oscar was much puzzled by his master's conduct, and 
 eircled impatiently around him, as if to urge liim onward. 
 
 For quite a long thno Wi'by shouted, until what be- 
 tween cold and weariness there was no more shout left in 
 him. Presently he felt an intense longing to sleep stealing 
 over him. H'e strove desperately hard to shake it off, for 
 he knew well what it meant ; but in spite of all his efforts 
 the deadly drowsiness crept steadily and surely over his 
 senses, and he was just lapsing into unconsciousness when 
 there was a crashing in the underbrush ahead, and before 
 he had time to ask himself what it could be, the small 
 trees iii front of him parted violently, and out stepped a 
 great white bear. 
 
 " What do you mean by all this shouting ? " he demanded 
 rather crossly. 
 
 Curiously enough, Wilby was not quite so terrified as 
 he expected he would be if a white bear happened along, 
 and found courage to say very humbly, — 
 
 " Please, Mr. Bear, I hope I didn't disturb ■« ou. But, 
 you see, I've sprained my ankle badly, and I was shouting 
 for some one to come and help me." 
 
 " Ho, ho ! you are hurt, are you ? " was the reply, in 
 rather a gentler tone. " Well, I'll look after you." 
 
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 il 
 
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 ku 
 
 ti\ 
 
 192 //OIV WI LB ER FORCE BRENNAN VISITED 
 
 And so saying, the bear picked the big boy up in his 
 arms as though h*^ had been a little baby, and marched oil' 
 with him through the woods at a i-apid rate. 
 
 Wilby knew resistance was vain, so he just made up 
 his mind to take things as quietly as possible; which, 
 under the circumstances, was a very wise thing to do. 
 
 After about five minutes' walking, his captor came to 
 a large tree which had been torn up by the roots. Under 
 this he quickly dodged, and entered what seemed to be a 
 long, dark passage. 
 
 In spite of his good resolution, Wilby could not help 
 a kind of groan at this. 
 
 " Shut up ! " growled the bear, giving him a by no means 
 gentle cuff on the side of the head. 
 
 Wilby did shut up, and for a time nothing was to be 
 heard save the soft thump, thump, thump of the bear's 
 broad feet on the hard floor of the passage. 
 
 At last they stopped. The bear gave something a kick, 
 a door flew open inward, and then there burst upon the 
 bewildered Wilby such a sight as he had never even 
 dreamed of in his life before. 
 
 He found himself in a large room, flooded with light and 
 warmth from a glorious wood fire that was crackling away 
 in a huge fireplace at one end. At first he thought the 
 whole place had just been newly whitewashed, but soon 
 discovered his mistake. 
 
 Everything in and about that room was marble — white 
 marble — pure and glistening as the snow outside. Floor, 
 walls, ceiling, tables — they were all marble alike, and they 
 
WHITE BEAR CASTLE. 
 
 »93 
 
 looked wonderfully fine, with the firelight flashing upon 
 them. 
 
 But before Wilby had time to take much more in, he 
 heard a deep bass voice asking, — 
 
 " Hallo, Major ! what have you got there ? " 
 
 And turning his head, he saw a splendid white bear, a 
 trood deal biofger than his rescuer, cominrj toward them 
 from the far end of the room. 
 
 " Some farmer's son. Max," answered the Major, at the 
 same time gently depositing his load on a couch near the 
 fire. " I found him 'most frozen to death in a snow-drift. 
 I guess we can make him all right again." 
 
 " Of course we can," exclaimed another voice, much 
 livelier in tone than the first speaker's, and a third bear, 
 quite as white but not so tall as either of the others, 
 emerged into the firelight from a dark corner, where he 
 had been attending to some household dutv. 
 
 " Of course we can, if you say so, Minor," growled the 
 one called Max, good-humouredly. " We'll begin by giving 
 hirn a good dinner, at all events." 
 
 By the way, I forgot to mention that the full names of 
 Wilby's new friends were Ursa Minor, Ursa Major, and 
 Ursa Maximus, but for convenience' sake they called one 
 another simply Minor, Major, and Max. 
 
 Feeling surprisingly at his ease, in view of his strange 
 surroundings, Wilby stretched himself out on his comfort- 
 able couch, and almost forgot the pain from his sprained 
 ankle in his delight at his nov^el experience. 
 
 " What a lot I'll have to tell them at home ! " he said 
 
 (!)04) 13 
 
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 194 /rOjy WILBERl'ORCE liREXYAN I'JSJTKP 
 
 i!: 
 
 M -,1 
 
 exultiiigly to liiiusclf. "Tlicy won't U'lievc ono-luilf of it, 
 1 know." 
 
 Maximus was evidently head of the houst'liokl, nnd 
 superintended in a dignified way, wliile Major and Minor 
 bustled about getting dinner ready. 
 
 In a little while all the preparations were complete, and 
 Major, who seemed to feel especially responsible for Wilby, 
 brought him a steaming bowl of something which the 
 hungry boy w^as not long in sampling. And it proved to 
 be such delicious rabbit-stew that he could not he'p ex- 
 claiming, — - 
 
 " My sakes, but tliis is fine I Mother couldn't miike a 
 better stew herself," — which compliment pleased Minor, 
 who had prepared the stew, so much that he filled Wilby's 
 l)Owl up again before it Mas fairly empty. 
 
 Besides the stew there were roast partridges an<l bakiMl 
 potatoes, and also apples and nuts, so that Wilby had just 
 about as much as he could comfortably eat — in fact, per- 
 haps a little more. At all events, his waistban<l began 
 to remind him it was there. 
 
 Dinner over, the dishes were cleared away and the room 
 set in order again, Wilby Avatching everything with the 
 liveliest interest, determined to have such a story to tell 
 as would make him the hero of the country-side for a 
 whole month at least. 
 
 He was particularly struck with the deftness with which 
 the bears w^ent about their work. Although their big 
 paws looked clumsy enough, the dear knows, they did 
 things as handily as \Vill)y himself could have done tlieni. 
 
WHITE HEAR CAST I.E. 
 
 '95 
 
 AVIuii every sign of tlie diniH'r liud vunisluMl, Max, 
 Major, ami Minor drew up their chairs (for thi'V oacli ha<l 
 a bit;' arm-chair) in front of the fire, and sat down to talk 
 over till! events of the day, <|uito ignorini;" the addition t(j 
 th'-ii' family, —who, in<leid, was very well ))leasi'd at boin.;' 
 left alone, as h«3 nnidi preferred usino^ his eyes to his 
 tongue, when everything around him was so tlel'^^i it fully 
 
 nove 
 
 The hears' voices weio so low and deep \\ it V^ilby 
 could not make out one-half tlu^y were saying. Be Ides, 
 what with the waiinth of the room and his own w aiiness, 
 lit; began lo feel very sleepy again, especially as the on\ich 
 was extrenu'ly comfoitable. In fact, ho had just about 
 dozed otr, when he was awakened by Maxinius jumping up 
 from his chair, and saying in a loud tone, — 
 
 " Come, fellows, let lis have a song, and then we'll turn 
 ill." 
 
 Whereupon the three of them stood up together around 
 the tire, and sang very heartily the following; soncj, the 
 words of which, so far as he heard them, Wilby had no 
 dilliculty in remembering, although the tune went com- 
 pletely out of his head. He had not much of an ear for 
 lausie, any way. 
 
 y& 
 
 '■'riirt't' jnllv wliito l)i;irs ;ui' \Vi', 
 Who can sint^ riirlit iiui rily. 
 I'"()r our hcjirt.s are liglit luid fioe 
 
 l''nnii nny care. 
 Wf liavc always lot-s to eat, 
 Ami \Vf keep our house so neat 
 That it's really quite a treat 
 
 To bo a bear. 
 
 it 
 
 I -I 
 
196 BO IV WILBERFORCE B REN NAN VISITED 
 
 "Yes, indeed, we're happy bears, 
 Since nobody knows our lairs, 
 Where we mind t)ur own affuirs 
 
 So quietly. 
 Of course we have to work, 
 But none of us ever shirk ; 
 For who'd be a liizy In.ik, 
 
 Don't you see? 
 
 "When the snow is on the ^n'ouiid, 
 We go hunting all around 
 ]''or the bunnies which abound 
 
 Among the trees. 
 And when summer-time is here, 
 I[ow the berries disaitptur 
 Down our tlu'oats — " 
 
 w 
 
 II. 
 
 But Wilby never heard the end of the third verso, for 
 the simple reason that sleep overcame him just then, and 
 song, singers, and marble palace alike faded awa}- into 
 nothingness. 
 
 He had no idea how long he slept, but when he awoke 
 he was both surprised and disappointed to find himself on 
 the sofa in Aunt Matilda's very plain, though cozy, sitting- 
 room, instead of on his couch in White Bear Castle, while 
 now not only his ankle but his whole bod}^ gave him pain 
 — -every nerve tingling, and face and hands smarting 
 dreadfully. 
 
 Minor, Major, and Maximus weic all gone too, anil in 
 their place dear old Aunt Matilda and kind Uncle Lenmel 
 were bending over him, with faces full of relief at his 
 return to consciousness. 
 
 " Wilby dear, how glad I am to see you open your 
 eyes again!" exclaimed Aunt Matilda joyfully. "Yon 
 
WHITE BEAR CASTLE. 
 
 197 
 
 were so long coming to that I began to fear that it might 
 be all over with you." 
 
 " Yes, Wilby, my bov," added Uncle Lemuel, " you've 
 had a close shave. But for Oscar there would not be 
 much life left in you by this time." 
 
 Wilby was too daztd for some time to understand it all, 
 but later on his uncle explained the matter. 
 
 It seemed that wise old Oscar, as soon as Wilby lost his 
 senses, scampered off to Uncle Lemuel's as hard as he 
 could go, and by barking and scratching at the door soon 
 let them know he was there. Then by signs whose mean- 
 ing they were not long in guessing, he persuaded them to 
 go back with him, until poor Wilby was found where he 
 had fallen beside the big tree. 
 
 Oscar capered about, wild with delight, w hen his master 
 was carried off to the house, and Uncle Lem could not say 
 enough about his cleverness. 
 
 Wilby felt very grateful to Oscar and to his uncle also, 
 and thankful that he had not lost his life. Yet he could 
 not help a twinge of regret at the thought of never seeing 
 his white bear friends again, seeing how kindly thoy had 
 treated him in spite of their character for cruelty. 
 
 However, it was no small consolation to have such a 
 rattling good story to tell, and tell it he did very graphi- 
 cally many a time, much to th*^ enjoyment of his hearers. 
 
 Whether they all believed it or not is a question that, 
 if you do not mind, I will leave it to you to settle. 
 
 S 5 
 
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 OUTSIDE THE BOOM. 
 
 MORT HENSHxVW was a bo}- avIio had implicit i'aitli 
 in himself. He cherished the firm conviction 
 that whatever any other boy could do came within the 
 range of his capabilities. He had only to find out the 
 way it should be done in order to accomplish it. 
 
 This was a pretty large view to take of things in 
 general, yet it must be confessed that Mort was not witli- 
 out a fair dcOTee of iustification for havinu" what the 
 Scotch wonld call so good a conceit of himself. 
 
 Blessed with a strong, svnnnetrical frame, a quick ej^e, 
 a sure hand, a perfect constitution, and abundant courage, 
 he came easily by a mastery of the different sports he 
 entered into, and had few equals, and fewer superiors, at 
 cricket, footltall, lacrosse, baseball, swinuning, rowing, and 
 the other anuisements of the day. 
 
 There was one pastime, however, of whicli, although he 
 had heard iimch, he knew nothing, and that was sailing. 
 Tlie pretty little stream which ran by his liome atibrdod 
 no facilities for this glorious sport, and the pleasures of it 
 he knew about only from the descriptions of his more 
 fortunate companions. 
 
OUTSIDE THE BOOM. 
 
 199 
 
 Great, then, was his delight when the spring that found 
 liim fifteen years of age brought witli io an invitation from 
 one of his uncles to spend the whole summer with him at 
 his cottage on Lake Deschenes, a splendid sheet of water 
 not far from the city of Ottawa. 
 
 The invitation mentioned, as one of the attractions of 
 the place, that he would be able to have all the sailing that 
 his heart could wish. 
 
 " Hurrah ! hurrah ! " shouted IMort, capering about the 
 room with a face beaming like the sun. " All the sailing 
 I want ! Just tliink of it ! Won't that be grand ? The 
 very thing I've been looking for," 
 
 " It will be grand, Mort dear," said his mother, " pro- 
 vided you take good care not to run any unnecessary 
 I'isks. You must do exactly what your uncle tells you, 
 just as if he were your father." 
 
 " Oh yes, mother, I'll do that," quickly responded j\rort, 
 ready to promise anything in the exuberance of his joy. 
 " I'll be his crew, you know, and obey orders just as if I 
 were at sea with him." 
 
 Very impatiently did ]Mort await tin; coming of the dny 
 when he shoidd set forth for Deschenes. His uncle was 
 principal o? the Collegiate Institute at Ottawa, and had 
 three months' vacation, which he usually spent at the lake 
 in sailing, rowing, bathing, and fishing, until the return of 
 autunni rt-called liim to his duties. 
 
 It was the last week in June when Mort arrived at 
 Lake Deschenes, and his first question, after f-^changing 
 greetings with his uncle and aunt, was, — 
 
 m H 
 
 i A. 
 
 < N 
 
 11 
 
■I l::^'' 
 
 Wi^ 
 
 M 
 
 300 
 
 OUTSIDE THE BOOM, 
 
 " Will you show me your boat, please, uncle ? " 
 
 Smiling at his eagerness, Mr. Turner took him over to 
 the boathouse, where a number of boats and canoes lay upon 
 the floor, or were suspended upon racks against the wall. 
 
 Mort had never seen so many or such fine boats in his 
 life before. They were nearly all built of cedar, and were 
 varnished instead of being painted, the copper fastenings 
 dotting their shining sides with regular lines. The boy 
 gave a great gasp of admiration, and it was some time 
 before he recovered himself sufficiently to ask, — 
 
 " And which is your boat, uncle ? " 
 
 Mr. Turner pointed to one lying just in front of them. 
 
 " Oh, what a beauty ! " cried Mort. " She's the best of 
 them all" 
 
 His uncle smiled a complacent assent, for that was pre- 
 cisely his own opinion. As to beauty of lines, perfection 
 of finish, completeness of outfit, and speed on any tack, he 
 considered the Glemn without a superior on Lake Des- 
 chenes, and Mort's prompt recognition of the fact pleased 
 him as much as the cordial praise of her baby does a 
 young mother. 
 
 " You are not far from right, my boy," said he. " The 
 Gleam is both a beauty to look at and a good one to go, 
 as you shall see for yourself very soon." 
 
 The Gleam belonged to the class of boat known as the 
 " St. Lawrence skiff," the swiftest and safest boats of their 
 size — when not over-canvassed — that carry sails. She 
 was about twenty-two feet long, and had a half-deck all 
 round, with a six-inch combing to keep out the water. 
 
OUTSIDE TJIE BOOM. 
 
 201 
 
 Two tall masts carried big bat-wing sails, which would 
 have soon toppled her over but for the heavy iron centre- 
 board that kept her stiff in an ordinary breeze. Every- 
 thing about her was of the best, and Mort thought her the 
 most beautiful object his eyes ever behold. 
 
 That afternoon he had his first sail in the Gleam, and 
 as, responding perfectly to every pufF of the wind and turn 
 of the tiller, she went flying across the lake, his heart 
 thrilled with delight, and became filled with a passionate 
 desire to master the art of handling such a craft. 
 
 " O uncle, won't you teach me how to steer and to 
 manage the sails before I go back home ? " he pleaded, 
 looking earnestly into Mr. Turner's face. 
 
 " Certainly, Mort, certainly," was the kindly reply ; " and 
 I think you ought to make a very apt pupil, too." 
 
 Mr. Turner was altogether as good as his word. He 
 took much pains in initiating Mort into the mysteries of 
 sailing, teaching him the w^ay to tack, when it was per- 
 missible to jibe, how to run before the wind, and so forth, 
 until, by the end of the first month, Mort had become 
 tolerably proficient, and could be trusted to manage the 
 Gleam alone in an ordinary brtjeze. 
 
 This special privilege he was then allowed to exercise, 
 provided he did not go outside the " boom " — that is, the 
 lonfir line of shackled logs which enclosed the bay where 
 the boathouse stood, and which was intended to keep the 
 saw-logs from stranding on the beach. 
 
 Inside the boom was a stretch of shallow water nearlv a 
 mile long by a quarter of a mile wide, on which plenty of 
 
 ■ lit 
 
 It 
 
 ' )fi 
 
mwr 
 
 202 
 
 OUTSIDE THE BOOM. 
 
 «!'• 
 
 \i 
 
 i' la 
 
 ,1 !^l 
 
 sailing might be liad without going out through the gnjt 
 into the body of the lake. 
 
 For a time Mort was content with this enclosed space, 
 and, whenever his uncle permitted him, would get the boat 
 out, and go tacking up and down from end to end, feeling 
 almost as proud of his newly-acquired skill as if he had 
 been discoverer of the science of sailing. 
 
 But of course it was not many days before he began to 
 cast longing eyes beyond the line of swaying logs, and to 
 feel that the thing he most desired in the world was to be 
 allowed to sail the Gh'am across the lake and back. 
 
 But when he hinted as much to his uncle he met with 
 no encouragement. 
 
 " No, no, Mort. You must be content with staying 
 inside the boom ; for, besides the chance of a squall, there 
 is the dano'cr of beinc" cauu'ht in the current and carried 
 into the rapids, which would soon make an end of both 
 you and the boat." 
 
 Now it happened tliat one morning both Mr. and Mrs. 
 Turner had to go into the city, not to return until by the 
 night train, and Mort was left entirely to his own re- 
 sources. Of course he turned to the Gleam for company, 
 and as soon as the morning breeze came up, taking with 
 him two other lads about his own ao-e, he launched the 
 boat, and went skimming from end to end of the bay. 
 
 "This is good fun," sai<l Ted Day, " biit it would be 
 better still outside the boom." 
 
 " Oh yes ' " cried Charlie Lister, " Do go outside ; just 
 a little bit. Mort 
 
OUTSIDE THE /WOM. 
 
 203 
 
 ]\Ioi't shook liis ]u'U(l, und tried to look very deckled. 
 His own heart was beatiiiL,^ a lively response to the suij^ges- 
 tions of his companions, hut his answer was, — 
 
 " No, Charlie ; uncle does not allow me to go outside, 
 you know." 
 
 Once the idea had been mooted, however, it refused to 
 go to rest again. The morning .seemed a perfect one. 
 There was a steady breeze from the north-west, just the 
 
 M 
 
 MoiiT rnAwr.En upon iwv. sTA(iK 
 
 AND FASTKNEH TO IT THE HiIAT's I'AINTF.U " 
 
 direction best .suited for a slant across the lake and back 
 without having to tack at nil. 
 
 Ted and Charlie begged and coaxed ]\Iort to make (jne 
 trip out, any way. j\Ir. Turner would never know^ any- 
 thing about it, and they conld easily bo back before mid- 
 day. 
 
 Mort's resolution, which had been rapidly weakening, 
 linally gave way altogether. 
 
 " All right," .said he, allowing a .sudden spirit of reckless 
 
 -■■ 
 
204 
 
 OUTSIDE THE BOOM. 
 
 w 
 
 I : 
 
 ambition to submerge his compunctions at doing what he 
 knew well enough was a mean betrayal of his uncle's con- 
 fidence in him. " We'll just make one trip across. It 
 does seem a pity to lose the chance this glorious morning." 
 
 So out through the gap the Gleam darted, as if glad of 
 her freedom, and went flying over the blue water toward 
 Blueberry Point. 
 
 " My, but this is grand ! " exclaimed Charlie rapturously, 
 as the boat careened before the freshening breeze, so that 
 the water lapped the lee-combing. 
 
 " You are right ; it is — eh, IVIort ? " echoed Ted, turning 
 to Mort, who, holding the tiller in one hand and the end 
 of the main sheet in the other, watched every move of the 
 boat with feelings strangely divided between anxiety and 
 proud delight. 
 
 The passage across was quickly made, and then, being 
 thirsty, Charlie proposed that they land for a few minutes 
 to get a drink at a spring near the shore. After the drink 
 Ted suggested a bathe ; and thus an hour slipped by, during 
 which an ominous change took place in the weather. The 
 sky clouded over , the wind, which had been steady, began 
 to come in fitful gusts. 
 
 " I don't like the look of things," said Mort, in a tone of 
 concern. " I wish we were inside the boom. ' 
 
 " Well, let's hurry and get there as quickly as we can." 
 responded Ted. 
 
 It was all well enough to say this, but with the change of 
 weather had come a change of wind, which was now aiiainst 
 them, so that they would have to tack all the way home. 
 
OUTSIDE THE BOOM. 
 
 205 
 
 By dint of careful sailiiiLj they had got about a third of 
 the distance, when suddenly the sky darkened, some large 
 drops of rain pattered upon them, and the next moment a 
 sharp squall struck the Gleam full upon her quarter. 
 
 In order to give his whole attention to the steering, 
 ]\[ort had asked Charlie to hold the main-sheet, impressing 
 upon him to take only one turn around the cleat. But 
 Charlie, who was of the lazy sort, finding the sheet hard 
 to hold, had taken two turns, and done it in such a way 
 that the rope had jammed. Consequently, when Mort 
 shouted to him, as he put the tiller hard a-port, " Let 
 go the main-sheet instantly, Charlie ! " and he attempted 
 to obey the order, he could not do so in time to meet 
 the emergency, and the next instant, amid simultaneous 
 shrieks from all three boys, the Gleam went over on her 
 beam ends. 
 
 Fortunately they were all good swimmers, and did not 
 get entangled in any of the ropes, so that, without much 
 difficulty, they succeeded in climbing up on the side of the 
 boat, where it was easy enough to hold on for a while. 
 
 There w^as no fear of the Gleam sinkinc:, as she bore no 
 ballast to carry her down, and had air-tight compartments 
 in both bow and stern. Nevertheless, the position of the 
 boys was one of great peril, for the boat was right in the 
 channel leading to the rapids at the lower end of the lake, 
 in the direction of which the w^ind was now l)lowing. To 
 get into these rapids meant utter destruction for both boys 
 and boat, yet to keep out of them was impossible without 
 help, while to swim ashore was far beyond their powers. 
 
 It 
 
 I I 
 
 I 
 
 'tr 
 
 i* 
 
 tW 
 
 
 H ! 
 
 (. 
 
 - I i 
 
 I I n 
 
 ; i 
 
n 'iiifu 
 
 206 
 
 OUTSIDE THE BOOM. 
 
 IB 
 
 i .i 
 
 TliL'V slioutcd and slirickod for aid, l)ut tlu'rc Avas no 
 one in sight to hear them, and .soon the storm burst iijiun 
 them in full fury, blotting out the shore on both sides, and 
 threatening to Ijeat them oil' the boat as it tossed \\\s and 
 down in the white-caps. 
 
 How bitterly Mort regretted having ventured beyond 
 the boom, and how fervent.y he vowed never to do so 
 again if he could only bo saved this time ! 
 
 When the squall passed and the air cleared, he saw that 
 they were fast drawing near the rapids. 
 
 " O Charlie,'' lie ijroaned, " why did vou make nie 00 
 outside the boom ? " 
 
 Charlie made no reply. Ho could thiidv of nothing else 
 but his innninent danger. 
 
 Steadily and surely the Gleam di'ifted downward. In 
 another fifteen minutes she would be in the remorseless 
 grasp of the rapids. The wind went down almost to a 
 calm, but the current ijrew sti-oni-er, so that there was no 
 slacking of her speeding toward destruction. 
 
 The boys held desperately on to the keel, saying nothing 
 to each other, but praying as best each could. 
 
 On, on the boat mov^ed. Oh, was there no chance f)f 
 help ? Must they go down to death in sight of so many 
 homes ? 
 
 A couple of hundred yards above the rapids was a float- 
 ing stage, strongly moored, which was used by the men 
 lookin<JC after the saw-losfs that came down the river in 
 great droves from time to time. As thev neared this a 
 bright thought flashed into Mort's mind. 
 
' 
 
 OUTSIDE THE BOOM. 
 
 207 
 
 ; ! 
 
 "Say, boys," 1 10 cried, " I've s^ut it! l)o you see that 
 float ? Let's push tlie GUdin over to it." 
 
 Tlie others caupfht the idea at once. All nettinijf on the 
 same side of tlie boat, they proceeded to push her toward 
 the stage by swiniiniug with their legs. 
 
 It was exhausting work, but they were encouraged by 
 seeing that they were making headway, and th(.'y per- 
 severed until at last success crowned their efibrts, and 
 with a glad cry of relief Mort crawled upon the stage and 
 Fastened to it the boat's painter. 
 
 All actual danger was now over, and at once ^Fort re- 
 gained his self-possession. Under his directions the masts 
 were taken out, the boat riglited and bailed dry, and 
 eveiy thing stowed snugly aboard. Then with the oars 
 she was rowed back to Deschenes, not a whit the worse 
 for her wetting-. 
 
 As soon as his uncle returned, Mort told him the whole 
 story. 
 
 Mr. Turner was very sorry to learn of his nephew's 
 breach of trust, and, as a penalty therefor, withdrew from 
 him for the rest of the summer the privilege of taking the 
 boat out alone, which was a sore deprivation ; but Mort 
 felt that it was richly deserved, and it only strengthened 
 his resolution to be more obedient to orders in the future. 
 
FOUND AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 -w>.»^ye«^-«-^ 
 
 : ::■ P ; ' 
 
 vtS 
 
 k'V.f i 
 
 EDIE ! Edie ! " rang- out in a clear, strong voice from 
 tlie door of a farmhouse, wliere stood a conielv, 
 brown-faced woman, sliading her eyes with lier riglit hand, 
 as she swept the sunny space around in search of her 
 daughter. 
 
 " I'm coming, mother," was the prompt response. 
 
 And the next instant there appeared from behind the 
 barn a little girl not more than eight years old, who looked 
 the very picture of health and happiness. 
 
 "You know where your father's chopping to-day, don't 
 you, Edie ? " asked Mrs. Hazen, with a glance of affectionate 
 pride at the sturdy little figure before her. 
 
 " Oh yes, mother," replied Edie, swinging around and 
 pointing with her plump forefinger, stained by the juice of 
 the raspberries she had just been picking, to the top of the 
 hill that sloped upwards from the other side of the road. 
 • Father's over there in the back pasture, near the black- 
 berry patch." 
 
 " That's right, pet," said Mrs. Hazen, lifting up the bright 
 face for a hearty kiss. " And now wouldn't you like to 
 take him his dinner ? " 
 
^ 
 
 FOUND AFTER MWY DAYS. 
 
 209 
 
 " Iiulecil r \\'oul<l," criod Eilio, dancinpf arouiul ami clap- 
 ping licT luinds. " And may 1 .stay with him initil ho 
 comes home ? " 
 
 "I suppose so — if he wants you," assented ]\Iis, Hazcn. 
 •' Jjufc in that case you must come in and have your own 
 dinner first." 
 
 A half-hour later, with a well-filled haskct on her arm, 
 and her mother's partin;^- injunction not to loiter on the 
 way in her ears, ]•. 1 ' set foitii full of joy on hei* mission. 
 
 " Slui's a little thinjjj to send so fai-," nnised the mother, 
 following the retreating figure with eyes full of tend«>)' con- 
 cern. " But she does so love the woods, and seems to make 
 her way through them like an Indian." 
 
 With heart as light as any bird chirping by the wayside^ 
 Edio hastened through the gate, across the road, between 
 the lower bars of the pasture gate, and then, climbing the 
 hill behind which lay the back pasture, entered the bush, 
 in which her pink calico sun bonn(>t soon vanished from 
 view. 
 
 Mr. Hazen's farm stood on the very edge of civilization, 
 in the northern part of New Brunswick. The most of his 
 acres he had cleared himself, and he never lost an oppor- 
 tunity of hewing his way further and further into the 
 mighty forest, whose billows of birch, pine, and hendock 
 rolled away northward, eastward, and westward for un- 
 counted leagues, 
 
 This day he was working at a bunch of timber a little 
 beyond the eastern edge of the clearing, called the " back 
 pasture. ' 
 
 1 1 
 
2IO 
 
 FOUND AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 As mid-day drew near lie began to feel hungry, and 
 more than onec paused in his work to go to tlio edge of tlio 
 clearing, to see it' tlicre were any signs of an approacliing 
 dinner. 
 
 " I hope Esther hasn't forgotten me to-day," he thouglit, 
 after doing this for the third time to no result. " It's not 
 hke her to do it." 
 
 The great golden sun moved steadily on to the zenith, 
 and then inclined westward, but still no messenger appeared 
 bearing the needed refreshment. 
 
 Mr. Hazen felt strongly tempted to shoulder his axe and 
 go home. But the day was so favourable to his woi-k that, 
 after a good deal of grundjling at what he supposed to be 
 his wife's neglect, he decided not to quit it. So, tightening 
 his belt, he grasped his axe anew and strove to forget his 
 hunger in the ardour of his toil. 
 
 He did not, ]iow(!ver, woric as late as common tliat day, 
 for in addition to his hunger, th(n'e grew upon him a fee]inu 
 of uneasiness, ■".hich at lenuth became so disturbing that he 
 could not endure it. Accordingly, fully an hour before his 
 usual time, he shovddered his axe and strode off homeward, 
 saving to himself, — 
 
 '• I hope nothing's gone wrong ; but I don't know what 
 gives me such an apprehensive feeling." 
 
 When he approached the farudioiise, he caught sight of 
 his wife coming up the road that led to the nearest neigh- 
 bour, about half-a-mile away. 
 
 Hurrvino' on to meet her, he asked in a tone not alto- 
 gether free from irritation at his needless fears, — 
 
iiL'wai'd, 
 
 FOUND AFTER MANY F>A VS. 
 
 211 
 
 "Why, Estlicr, wlierc liavo you Leon? And where is 
 Edie ? " 
 
 " I ran over to neighbour Hewett's for tlio paper," ^Irs. 
 FEazcn responded. " But "—and lier face tilled with sudden 
 alarm — " Edie ? Wasn't Edie with you ? " 
 
 " Why, no ! " replied Mr. Hazen, while in hi.s face was 
 reflected the expression of his wife's ; " I haven't seen her 
 since breakfast." 
 
 " Not seen her ! " repeated Mrs. Hazen. " Henry, what 
 has happened ? I sent her with your dinner just before 
 mid-day, and she asked me if she might stay with you 
 until you came home." 
 
 Mr. Hazen was a man piompt to action. Taking his 
 wife's arm and fairly pushing her along the road, he said, — 
 
 "There's not a moment to lose, Esther. Edie's lost her 
 way, and we nuist go after her." 
 
 Without returning to the farmhouse, they pressed up the 
 hill and through the back pasture into the forest. 
 
 Hither and thither they hunted, now one and now the 
 other raising the echoes of the leafy fastness by calls of 
 "Edie! Edie!" but getting no response save the cries of 
 startled birds or the mocking chatter of a s(iuirrel. 
 
 As nisiht drew on Mr. Hazen realized that a more organ- 
 ized effort was necessary ; and liastening home with hnr- 
 rowed hearts, his wife got ready some food, while he rode 
 over to Hewett's to obtain assistance. 
 
 Both Mr. Hewett and his eldest son returned with him. 
 They hurriedly snatched a meal, and then, provided with 
 guns and lanterns, set off to renew the search. 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 n 
 
 it 
 
 
 bl 
 
,i i 
 
 
 I'M 
 
 212 
 
 FOUND AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 All that niglit they tramped through the gloom of the 
 forest, meeting from time to time to take counsel to- 
 gether, and then separating, to cover as much ground as 
 possible. 
 
 But the day dawned without bringing any comt'oiting 
 news for the haggard woman who anxiously waited their 
 return at the gate, and, when they came without her 
 daughter, sank down on the ground, half fainting with un- 
 controllable grief. 
 
 As soon as possible the eager search was renewed, and 
 continued from day to day, until at last even the heart- 
 broken parents had to give up all hope, and strove to resign 
 themselves to the awful conviction that their darlino- Edith 
 — their only one — had met her death all alone in the depths 
 of the great forest, having either died of hunger and expo- 
 sure or fallen a victim to the bears and wolves with which 
 its solitudes al)Ounded, 
 
 In the meantime, how hatl it fared with Edie, who had 
 gone forth so joyously to carry her father's dinner to him ? 
 
 Her intention at the start was certainly to make a 
 straio-ht course to her destination. But the attention of 
 little folks is easily attracted, and in this instance, just as 
 she entered the edi>e of the forest, and should have turned 
 off to the left, a saucy little squirrel challenged her on the 
 right, and in trying to get near him Edie pushed fui-ther 
 and further into the forest, until presently she began to 
 wonder if she had not lost her way. 
 
 At once losing interest in the squirrel, she put down her 
 basket to look about her. With a pang of sharp dismay. 
 
 iM 
 
FOUND AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 213 
 
 the child realized that she had lost her bearings, and did 
 not know which way to turn. 
 
 Just at that moment her keen ear caught a si und that 
 she immediately recognized. It was the regular blows of 
 an axe falling upon a tree-trunk. 
 
 Her face lit up, and she clapped her hands for joy. 
 
 " That's father chopping ! " she exclaimed. " Now I 
 Icnow which way to go ! " 
 
 And picking up her basket, Edie trotted off' in what she 
 took to be the direction from which the sound came, 
 
 On she trudged bravely for some distance, hoping eacli 
 minute to come upon her father, until, growing weary of 
 her burden, she put it down to rest a moment. 
 
 As she rested it seemed to her that the sound of chopping 
 had grown fainter — so much so, indeed, she could hardly 
 make out which way it came to her ears. 
 
 "Oh dear!" she si<died ; "where can father be? I'll 
 call for him." And she made the place ring with shrill 
 cries of " Father ! father ! Where are yoii ? " 
 
 But they evoked no response, and then, more alarmed 
 tlian ever, Edie picked up her basket again, and pushed on 
 with all her little strength. 
 
 Unhappily every step increased the distance between 
 Mr. llazenand herself; for it was not the real sound of the 
 (.'hopping P^die had followed but the echo, and instead of 
 making toward him, she had been going in directly the 
 opposite direction. 
 
 At the end of an hour she felt very tire<l, and throwing 
 Imrself down on a bank of moss \\i the foot of w forest 
 
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 % 
 
 
 
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 214 
 
 FOUND AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 monarch, gave way to tlie tjars that liitherto she had reso- 
 lutely restrained. 
 
 " Oh dear ! " she said, " I'm lost, I'm lost ! and how ever 
 will father find me ? " 
 
 After the first passion of tears had passed, Edie begai) 
 to be conscious of the pangs of hunger, and the thouglit 
 came that she miiiht as well eat somethinf; out of the 
 basket, as she could not find her father tc give it to him. 
 
 So she ate a little of the bread and meat, and took a sup 
 out of the bottle of milk, and then, feeling refreshed, re- 
 newed her tramp, first listening eagerly, but in vain, for 
 the sound of her father's axe. 
 
 All that afternoon the lost child alternately walked and 
 rested, often crying softly to herself, then drying her tears 
 and seeking to take heart from the hope of yet finding her 
 father before darkness came on. 
 
 She was a brave little thing, accustomed to a good deal 
 of outdoor life, and to running through the woods ; but 
 when night closed around her and the forest shade deepened 
 into impenetrable gloom, poor Edie gave up the struggle, 
 and sank down in a mossy hollow, shivering with terror. 
 
 Yet so weary was she that presently she fell asleep, and 
 did not awake until dawn, when, though feeling very stiff' 
 and sore from the unwonted exertions of the day before, 
 she ate her breakfast out of the basket and renewed her 
 progress. 
 
 The following day she wandered about, only getthig 
 deeper and deeper into the forest. Her basket was empty 
 bijfore evening, and she was fain to make her supper of 
 
FOUND A ITER MANY DAYS. 
 
 215 
 
 the berries, which fortunately were very plentiful. They 
 were not altogether satisfying, hut they were better than 
 nothing. 
 
 Another day passed, the weather providentially continu- 
 ing bright, clear, and warm, 
 and the little wanderer 
 kept on, not knowing 
 whither she was going. 
 That nio'ht stranw things 
 
 TIE LKVKM.ED HtS IlIFr.E IN 
 lUlADINE.'SS To t'lUE." 
 
 began to happen. She was 
 more wakeful than usual, and 
 as she lav at the foot of a tree, she saw some laro-e animals 
 moving about in tho dim light, and her bosom thrilled 
 with joy, for she thought they must be her father's o.xen. 
 So she called out, — 
 
 " Buck ! Bright ! Come here ! ' 
 
 But at the sound of her voice they started as if 
 greatly frightened, and at once dashed off through the 
 woods at the top of their .speed ^ which .showed her that 
 
 ! 
 
2 I 6 
 
 /'VUXD AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 tliey must iiave been moose, such as her father somethiies 
 shot. 
 
 The followiui'' niiiht two ijreat, black, shacfu'v cloiifs, whicli 
 slie supposed must be iu'ii;]ibour Hewett's, came near lier ; 
 but wlieu slu^ called them by their nauies they seemed 
 more surprised than the moose, for they stood up on tlieir 
 hind lej^'s, looked very hard at her for a few moments, and 
 then, dropping down on all fours, hastened away into the 
 darkness again, where, as Edie thought, she heard them 
 howling. In this, however, she nuist have been doubly 
 mistaken. 
 
 What she took to be dogs were no doubt black bears, 
 then (piite numerous in that district, being attracted by 
 the berri'jo ; and the howling, of course, was done by wolves, 
 which, luckily, seemed afraid to attack her. 
 
 On the fourth afternoon, Edie, by happy chance, came 
 across the deserted shanty of an early pioneer, standing in 
 the nnddle of a clearing that was thickly ovei-grown with 
 raspberry bushes. 
 
 Here she remained for thi'ee days, feeding upon the 
 berries during the daytime, and sleeping in the shanty at 
 nicfht. The niuhts were so warm that she needed no fire, 
 and inside the shanty she was safe from the attacks of 
 v.! ^vs wr wolves. It was dreadrully lonely, yet still she 
 Ij*. < • tiiat her father would como and 1in<l her. 
 
 •/"' olo week thus passed away. Edie had been given 
 up iur lost by her heart-broken parents, and the neigh- 
 bours who were assisting in the search had I'eturned to 
 their homes, when a gentleman Mr. Barker by nauie — 
 
FOUND AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 117 
 
 liiid an expei-ionce sucli as no sportsman surely ever had 
 before. 
 
 }[e luid been out on a hunting expedition for a fcntnight, 
 and tliat day came to the banks of Bear Creek. 
 
 He was preparing to ci'oss on a fallen log almost 
 spanning the stream, when his keen ear caught the sound 
 of soft footsteps, accompanied by a continuous rustling 
 movement in the thicket of wild raspberries that covered 
 the opposite bank. 
 
 At once with a tremor of delight he suspected the 
 approach of a deer, or possibly a bear, and dropping behind 
 a bush, he levelled his ritle in readiness to fire. 
 
 The next moment, as his eager eyes intently scanned the 
 raspberry bushes, his sportsman's feeling of delight suddenly 
 changed to a thrill of horror when a tiny brown, berry- 
 stained hand was (juietly raised to pull down a loaded 
 branch of fruit. 
 
 •' Well, of all things ! " cried the hunter, as his tinger fi^ll 
 from the trigger that had so nearly sent the bullet upon its 
 fatal mission. " What an awful mistake I almost made ! " 
 
 Throwing down his rifle he sprang across the log, to catch 
 in his arms a little girl not more than eight years old, whose 
 torn garments, tangled locks, soiled hands, and thin, pale face, 
 told in a glance the story of many days' hapless wanderings. 
 
 Oh, how glad poor Edie was to see liim, and how art- 
 lessly she told the story of her wonderful adventures ! And 
 how thankful to Providence the hunter was that he had 
 chanced to find her ere it was too late ! 
 
 Forgetting all about his hunting, her rescuer now applied 
 
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 FOUND AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 himself to the task of getting lier home. They were far 
 from the nearest house, and the poor elnlJ was so weak 
 from lack of proper food that he had to lift her up on his 
 broad shoulders. 
 
 But Mr. Barker was as strong as he w^as kind-hearted, 
 and he pushed resolutely on, guiding himself by his compass, 
 until at last, just as dusk was closing around them, and he 
 began to fear they would have to pass another night in the 
 forest, they came upon a clearing, at the far side of which 
 stood a neat log house. 
 
 Edie shouted her joy at the sight. It meant that all 
 her perils were over; and the hunter, putting on a big spurt, 
 dashed across the clearing at a run and deposited her on 
 the doorstep, exclaiming in a tone of vast relief, — 
 
 " There now, my child, that's the end of your wanderings!" 
 
 The good people of the house gave them both a warm 
 welcome. Edie received every attention ; and the following 
 morning, looking altogether a difi'erent girl, with dress 
 mended, hair neatly brushed, hands free from berry-stains, 
 and face radiant at the prospect of returning to her parents, 
 she took her seat in the farmer's waijoon to be driven home. 
 
 How shall the joy of the Hazens be described when the 
 little daughter they had mourned for as dead came back to 
 them, looking thin and worn, it is true, but otherwise not 
 a whit the worse for her thrilling experience ! 
 
 Mr. Barker watched them with brimming eyes, mur- 
 muring, as he fondly patted the stock of his Remington, — 
 
 " The best day's work you ever did was wdien you didn't 
 go off at all A lucky chance, indeed ' " 
 
.H 
 
 ei{ 
 
 MRS. GRUNDY'S GOBBLERS. 
 
 MRS. GRUNDY (or, as the boys disrespectfully called 
 her, Mrs. Grumpy) was certainly not a favourite 
 ^- ith the young people of Westville. In the first place, 
 :,x.e did not like children. The fact that she had never 
 been blessed with any of her own no doubt had a great 
 deal to do with this dislike for other people's, which she 
 manifested by vigorous use of hand and tongue at the 
 slightest provocation. 
 
 IVIany a sharp speech and stinging slap did Mrs. Grundy 
 inflict — and not always upon those who deserved it most, 
 either ; for so hot was her temper, so hasty her action 
 when irritated, that she would visit her wrath upon the 
 first youngster she could reach, without waiting to investi- 
 gate the extent of her luckless captive's guilt. 
 
 Another reason why Mrs. Grundy was not popular was 
 that, although she owned the finest orchard and garden in 
 all Westville, not one crimson strawberry, purple plum, or 
 golden apple was she ever known to bestow upon boy or 
 girl ; and woe betide the adventurous urchin that dared to 
 take one unbidden, even though it be a half-spoiled wind- 
 fall, if he fell into her strong hands ! Forthwith he was 
 
 
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 A/A'S. (/ A' ( '.\7) ] ■ 'S COl'^ni. /Ih'S. 
 
 inarched ottj amid u storm of slaps and scolding, despite 
 his sobs and vows of penitence, into tlie awful presence ol' 
 Squire Hard<,ait, and, his alarmed parents liaviiig hecii 
 duly summoned, was in their presence con<lemncd to that 
 most appalling of punishments — a whole day in the house 
 of detention ! 
 
 This method of dealing with the woul<I-he or actual 
 fruit-filchei's hail one advantage, so far as Mrs. (jrunth- 
 was concerned — it gave her a sharer in the buiiien of hei- 
 unpopularity, which perhaps might otherwise luive proved 
 insupportable ; for so hard, cold, and unsympathetic was 
 8(]uirc llardgrit, and such evident pleasure did he take in 
 imposing his pinuilties, that if the Westvillc hoys liated 
 anybody as cordially as they did Mrs. Griuidy, it was cer- 
 tainly the sterti, severe squire. 
 
 For some time past the relations between these two 
 worthies and the boys luid, as the newspapers say about 
 the great Powers, been more than usually strained. Not 
 content with iierctdy defending her garden and orchard from 
 juvenile depredation, Mrs. Grundy had asserted her right 
 to keep everybody oif the broad, smooth plot of grass that 
 lay between her cottage ami the road, and had l)een upheld 
 in her claim by i\w s(piire, to the profound disgust of the 
 boys, who had long made it their gathering-place in the 
 summer evenings ; for although too small to play a game 
 of baseball upon, it was big enough for pitching and 
 catching, chase, leap-frog, and that sort of thing. 
 
 This appropriation of the grass plot, which had hitherto 
 heen regarded as public property, wns quite too nuich for 
 
MRS. (;/WNDV\< GOIUU.r.RS. 
 
 22 I 
 
 tlio l)oyH. Tfc was tlio last <lrop in tlio cup of liittorncss, 
 and in desperation tliey call<'d a meeting to l)o lield in 
 'J'lioiiipson's Itarn on Saturday niylit to consider tlie 
 situation. 
 
 Saturday ni;;lit came, and a dozen of tlio la-i^litest boys 
 of Wcstville ^fathered in solonni conclave around a lantern 
 to see if some way could not lie devised of netting- even 
 with Mrs. (Jrumpy and the scpiire. 
 
 As tlu! barn belonged to bis fatluT, Charlie' 1'bompson 
 was chosen chairman, and bo promptly opened tlu; meet- 
 ing as follows : — ■ 
 
 " Now, fellows, we can't stand this sort of thing any 
 longer. Something nuist Im; done, if we perish in the 
 attempt. The honour of the country demands " (Charlie, 
 whose memory was particularly good, ha<l not yet for- 
 gotten the last 4th of July oration) "that measures should 
 be taken to show to our oppressors that we arc not slaves 
 and cowards. The meeting is now open, and the chair 
 will be pleased to receive suggestions." 
 
 And amid a vigorous round of boot -heel ap])lauso 
 Charlie sat down, feeling that he had proved himself (piite 
 equal to the occasion. 
 
 P'or a few moments tliere was a dead pause, all having 
 some sort of a scheme, more or less hazy, in their heads, 
 but none wishing to speak first. 
 
 At last little Tommy Short, the youngest in the group, 
 piped out, — 
 
 " Let's tar and feather 'em. Father has lots of tar in 
 his back shop, and 1 know where there's a big pot." 
 
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 222 
 
 MA\S. ah'UXDY'S GOBBLERS. 
 
 A roar of lanp^hter j^reeted this sugfgestion, tlic impracti- 
 cability of wliicli was exceeded only by its absurdity, could 
 it have been carried out. 
 
 Dame Grinuly and Squire Hardj^n-it would certainly 
 have made a most mirth-provoking sight, done up in suits 
 of tar and feathers. 
 
 The speech served its purpose, however, in loosening the 
 other tongues, and plans and projects now poured in thick 
 and fast. 
 
 " S'pose we burn their barns down," said Dick Wilding, 
 who was a great reader of clieap-novel literature. 
 
 But all the rest shouted " No ! " at once. 
 
 " What do you say to ham-stringing their horses ? " 
 asked Bob Henderson, in rather a dubious tone, as if he 
 had not much confidence in the wisdom of his scheme, 
 which, in fact, just occurred to him because he had read 
 that that was the way the Arabs treat their enemies' horses 
 when they get the chance. 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! " cried the chairman. " That's 
 not the sort of thine: we mean at all. We're not hanker- 
 ing after the penitentiary." 
 
 " Give us your plan, tlien, IVIr. Chairman," said Dick 
 
 Wildinir. 
 
 " Well, fellows, I'll tell you what I was thinking of. 
 Let us hook the old lady's gobblers, and hide them until she 
 thinks they're gone for good. You know what a heap she 
 thinks of them, and it will worry her awfully to lose them." 
 
 " Capital ! capital ! " shouted the rest of the boys. 
 " The very thing ! " 
 
M/iS. (;RUN'DY\S GOIiBl.r.RS. 
 
 1 3 X 
 
 " But whom shall we hid*' them?" asko*! Sam Lawson. 
 " It'll have to be a pretty saFe placo, for Mrs. (j!riiiiii)y will 
 turn the town upsidt; down huntini^' for hor precious 
 tui'koys, you may bo sure." 
 
 While all this talk was troin<x on, Harold Kent had 
 
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 )tin'ned b^ 
 
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 )een sitting on an upturned box winch served him as 
 a chair, without opening liis inouth. Now, liowever, tak- 
 ing advantage of the pause wliich followed Sam's (juestion, 
 he said quiotly,- 
 
 " Why not hide the gobblers in one of the empty rooms 
 in Squire Hardgrit's building? You know, tlic squire's 
 been trying to get these Bronze Gobblers from Mrs. 
 Grumpy for ever so long, and she won't let him have 
 them ; and if they're found on his premises, she'll be sure 
 to think that he had something to do with hookini; them." 
 
 It was just like Harold to propose sf)mething so original 
 and daring in its conception as to fairly take his com- 
 panions' breath away, and they now looked at him with 
 feelings divided between admiration and amazement. 
 
 The chairman was the first to speak. I3ringing his 
 hand down upon his knee with a crack that made the 
 others jump, he cried, — 
 
 " Magnificent ! Boys, we'll do it, or perish in the 
 attempt." 
 
 Whereat the others shouted in chorus, — 
 
 " Hoorah ! We'll do it ! " 
 
 " Since we're all tigreed, then," said Charlie, " the next 
 business before the meeting is to plan how to do it." 
 
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 224 
 
 AfRS. GRUNDY'S GOBBLERS. 
 
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 uard, and again it was left for Harold Kent to advfinoo 
 the most practicable scheme. 
 
 This was it : the shed in which Mrs. Grundy's faiiuju-? 
 ilock of turkeys was carefully secured at night stood at 
 some distance to the back of her liouse, and as she slept 
 in one of the front rooms, there was slight risk of her 
 seeing or hearing anything. What Harold proposed was, 
 that, slipping out of their rooms after everybody was 
 asleep, they should meet behind the turkey-shed, bringing 
 with them three gunny sacks and a dark huitern. ] laving 
 got the gobblers safely into the sacks, they would then 
 creep round the back way to the building in wliich the 
 squire's office was situated, climb in through a lower win- 
 dow, and so upstairs to the room in which the turkeys 
 were to bo left. 
 
 " You've a great head, Hal," said Jack Wilding admir- 
 ingly, when all this had been detailed, " and 3'ou cnn count 
 on us every time — can't he, boys ? " 
 
 " You bet he can," chorused the cro^vd. 
 
 A satisfactory plan of campaign having thus been 
 settled rpon, the meeting was adjourned until Monday mid- 
 niu'ht, then to assemble behind IVErs. (jlrundv's turkev-shed. 
 
 The eventful night came ; and as midniglit di-ew near, 
 one by one the bo3's gathered with throbbing hearts at the 
 rendezvous. 
 
 At length all but Tommy Short, wluise courage had 
 failed him, and Bob Henderson, whose father had nablied 
 him in the act of slipping out, and sent him back to bed 
 with a spank, turned w\^. 
 
xlvaiice 
 
 I'iiinouf! 
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 of her 
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 TllEY WEIIE TOO UEWILDKREU I!Y TllK ULAZE To MAKE ANY NOISE. 
 
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AfRS. GRUNDY'S GOBBLERS. 
 
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 It was an intensely dark nio'lit and blowino- half a tiale, 
 all of which was in favour of the enterprise. The shed 
 door was found to be simply secured with a wooden latch, 
 and lifting this the conspirators tip-toed inside ; and then 
 Charlie Thompson, who carried the dark lantern, suddenly 
 turned its glare full upon the startled gobblers as th oy 
 nodded solemnly side by side upon their roost. 
 
 They were too bewildered by the blaze to make any 
 noise, and before they could recover their self-possession 
 sufficiently to exclaim at so extraordinary an apparition, 
 the other boys had stepped behind them, and with quick, 
 deft movements slipped the big sacks over their heads, 
 thus reducing them at one bold stroke to helpless captives. 
 
 The poor turko}'s struggled and " gobbled " a good deal 
 in their narrow quarters, but all to no purpose ; and 
 full of terror, no doubt, at their strange treatment, were 
 hurried out of the shed into the lane, and thence through 
 dark and silent ways to the rear of the squire's building. 
 Here the conspirators paused for breath and considtation. 
 
 " Now, fellows," whispered Harold Kent, " wo nefnln't 
 all o'o inside, you know. I'll take the lantern, while the 
 three biggest of you carry the gobl)lers, and the rest will 
 stay here until we come back." 
 
 Somewhat reluctanth' this was assented to, for all 
 wanted to share the danger as well as the fun ; and then 
 Harold, lantern in hand, followeil by ])iek Wilding, 8am 
 Shaw, and Frank Gushing, each bending beneath a bug of 
 strticru'lincr, " u'obblino' " turkev, climbed in thrcmgh the low 
 window, crept softly in stocking feet along the narrow 
 
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 228 
 
 j/j^s. grujydy's gobblers. 
 
 hall and up the creaking stairs ; while thoir companions, 
 with hearts beating like trip-hammers, shrank close to- 
 gether in the darkest corner outside and anxiously awaitetl 
 their return. 
 
 It was no easy task that the four boys had in hand. 
 True enough that the building was uninhabited at niHit, 
 but there were people living next door, and any unusual 
 noise could hai'dly fail to be heard through those thin 
 wooden walls ; while, late as the hour was, the sound of 
 footsteps on the plank side-walks would ever and anon 
 send a chill of terror through the anxious watchers 
 below. 
 
 IVIoreover, to carry three big turkeys up a flight uf 
 stairs and deposit them in an empty room without tilling 
 the whole place with their noise was the hardest part of 
 all. Nevertheless they succeeded admirably. 
 
 Five minutes after they disappeared they rejoined their 
 companions, trembling but triumphant, having left their 
 captives in good order and condition in the front room, 
 just across the room from Squire Hardgrit's office, where 
 tliey would be certain to make themselves seen and heard 
 in the morning. 
 
 This done, the boys scattered to their homes, creeping- 
 back noiselessly to their beds, in which, being thoroughly 
 tired out, they slept as soundly until morning as if the}' 
 had not been up to any mischief whatever. 
 
 The great gathering-place of the Westville boys was 
 the blacksmith's forge, which stood across the road from 
 Mrs. firundy's, and thither the conspirators came one by 
 
A/J^S. GRUNDY'S GOBBLERS. 229 
 
 one the following morning in expectation of seeing the 
 fun. 
 
 Nor were they di.sappointed. Their enemy thouglit too 
 much of her precious turkeys to intrust an}^ person else 
 with the duty of feeding them, and so every morning 
 carried them a big dish of corn-meal mush after she had 
 finished her own breakfast. 
 
 " There she goes ! " exclaimed Dick Wilding presently, 
 as the boys were laughing and talking somewhat nervously 
 together. 
 
 And, sure enough, Mrs. Grundy's portly figure emerged 
 from the house and went slowly toward the shed. 
 
 Soon after a sharp cry of " Susan ! Susan ! " cut the 
 still morning air, and the prim maid-servant was observed 
 to hurrv to her mistress, 
 
 A moment later the two women could be observed 
 running hither and thither throuoh the garden and 
 orchard, calling, " Turkey ! turkey ! turkey ! " at the top 
 of their voices. 
 
 Great indeed was Mrs. Grundy's concern, and .soon the 
 whole neighbourhood was made aware of her loss. 
 
 " It's those rascally gipsies, sure's I'm alive," she cried. 
 '' Who else would steal my beautiful goljlilers, that I 
 wouldn't sell even to the squire ? I'll have every one of 
 them sent to jail, see if I don't. Just wait till the squire 
 comes ! " 
 
 And so she stormed while awaitini:- the arrival of the 
 squire at his office. 
 
 The moment he appeared she poured her woful talo 
 
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 230 
 
 J/A'.S'. GRUNDY'S GOBBLERS. 
 
 into his oars, while a curious crowd gathered outside, eager 
 to see what the majesty of the hiw could effect. 
 
 Most prominent in the crowd were, of course, the boys, 
 who alone held the clue to the mystery, and were now 
 eagerly expecting the grand denouement. 
 
 It was not long in coming. Mrs. Grundy had only about 
 half finished l\er confused recital of facts, suspicions, and 
 theories to the gravely listening squire, wdien a vigorous 
 " Gobble-gobble- jcb I;'. . " was distinctly heard coming from 
 somewhere nc.xr at hand, just as a shout broke in from 
 the street of, — 
 
 " There they are — up in Squire Hardgrit's room ! Look 
 at them ! " 
 
 Before the squire could take in the situation, his excited 
 clieiit sprang to her feet, rushed out of the office, across 
 th(! hall, threw open the door into the opposite room, and 
 there, behold ! as large as life, and as cross as three 
 gobblers could be, were her missing turkeys, who, the 
 instant the door was opened, charged straight through it, 
 almost upsetting their mistress, and went flapping violently 
 downstairs and out into the street, wdiero thcv were 
 greeted with a shout of laughter from the surprised spec- 
 tators. 
 
 It would be impossible with cither pen or pencil to give 
 an adequate conception of the old lady's countenance as 
 she returned to the squire's office, and met that worthy 
 magistrate just rising from his chair. 
 
 Surprise, suspicion, indignation, and wrath chased one 
 another swiftly across her features, and, once her feelings 
 
Look 
 
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 M/^S. GRUNDY'S GOBBLERS. 
 
 231 
 
 found utterance, there was poured upon the amazed squire 
 such a torrent of reproach and contumely that he was fairly 
 stuimed into silence ; and before he could recover himself 
 sufficiently to make his defence, his accuser, with a scorn- 
 ful swing of her ample skirts that was simply magnificent, 
 tlounccd out of the office, while he sank back into his 
 chair, the very picture of helpless bewilderment. 
 
 That he. Squire Hardgrit, the incorruptible guardian of 
 the people's rights, should be suspected of having stolen, 
 or causing to have stolen for him, the turkeys of a neigh- 
 bour, whose situation as a lone widow was such as to 
 make the crime seem particularly heinous — that any per- 
 son should for one moment suspect an3'thing so abomin- 
 able ; and not only suspect it, but charge him to his face 
 with his supposed guilt before the whole village (for the 
 squire was well aware that Mrs, Grundy's shrill utterances 
 had been audible clear across the street), it was awful, 
 perfectly awful, and not to be borne for a moment ! He 
 must see Mrs. GIrundy innncdiatcly, and compel her to 
 listen to him. 
 
 Accordingly, away he posted to the widow's cottage, 
 where he arrived just in time to check the poor dame 
 from going off into a tit of hysterics. 
 
 Her turkeys being once more safely in her yard, and 
 her anger pretty well abated, Mrs. Grundy was quite 
 willing to listen believingly to the squire's indignant 
 denials, and graciously accept his assurance that no pains 
 would be spared to ferret out the real delinquents. 
 
 The former harmony was restored, and an alliance, 
 
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232 
 
 AIRS. GRUNDY'S GOBBLERS 
 
 offensive and defensive, sealed with a olass of gooseberry 
 wine, for both wore strongly of the opinion that " tliose 
 wicked wretches of boys " were at the bottom of the whole 
 mischief. 
 
 Thanks to those same boys holding their tongues, how- 
 ever, neither Mrs. Grundy nor the squire could over get 
 hold on any evidence more solid than their own suspicions, 
 and they both had too much sense to take any action 
 upon them. 
 
 But the nocturnal travels of the turkeys were not in 
 vain ; for their mistress, realizing that the boys, if pressed 
 too far, might do something worse next time, thouglit it 
 wise to mitigate her severity toward them, and even 
 softened to the extent of calling a lot of them into lier 
 orchard that very autumn to till their pockets with the 
 windfalls. 
 
 This stroke of diplomacy w^as not lost upon the boys, 
 who reciprocated after their own fashion : and thus matters 
 went smoothly on, until at length most harmonious rela- 
 tions were established, and in all the countryside no crea- 
 tures were safer from the voungsters' mischief than Mrs. 
 Grundy's gobblers. 
 
ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE SNOW-RIDGE. 
 
 ONE of the Fur Commissioners of the Hudson Bay 
 Company at Winnipeg was entertaining a number 
 of the factors and other officials at Christmas dinner, and 
 after the successive courses had received appreciative at- 
 tention, the guests settled themselves at ease about the 
 table to enjoy the excellent cigars and one another's con- 
 versation. 
 
 Made up as the gathering was of men who had for ten, 
 twenty, thirty years or longer, in the pursuance of their 
 vocation, experienced most moving adventures by flood and 
 field, good stories followed fast. One told of a thrilling 
 trip through the dangerous rapids of the Portage of the 
 Drowned ; another, of the narrow escape from meeting 
 death at the hands of a grizzly among the foot-hills of the 
 Rockies ; while a third held the attention of all as he 
 graphically described the fearful struggle that he had witli 
 a wounded bull bison in the valley of the Bow River. 
 
 Thus the story-telling went around until it reached 
 Hugh JNt'Kenzie, one of the oldest officials in the active 
 service, who, in response to a unanimous demand, spun the 
 following interesting yarn of mountain-sheep hunting. 
 
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 234 
 
 ON THE IVRONG SIDE 
 
 " It was in the tliird year of my clerkship, and thoy 
 liad sent me away out to Fort George, right in the heart 
 of the Rockies, I woukl rather liavo stayed on the plains, 
 where the buffalo were in plenty ; but you're not asked as 
 to what you'd like best in the company. You're just told 
 to go, and there's an end of it. I found it very dull at 
 Fort George, and to while away the time 1 did all the 
 hunting I could. To help me in this I had two line dogs, 
 of whom I was extremely proud. They were half-bred 
 collies, not particularly handsome creatures, but full of 
 pluck, and as knowing animals as ever wagged tails. 
 
 " Having had pretty good luck with bear and other game 
 to be found in the neighbourhood of the fort, I became 
 possessed of a strong desire to secure the head of one of 
 those Rocky Mountain sheep which have their home high 
 up among the peaks, and arc as difficult animals to hunt 
 as there are in the world. 
 
 " Again and again I went out without success, although 
 my dogs, Bruce and Oscar, seemed as eager to get sheep as 
 I was myself ; but instead of becoming disheartened, I 
 grew all the more determined, and longed for the winter to 
 come, when the snow, by covering their higher pasturing 
 grounds, would drive the sheep lower down the mountain, 
 and thus make them more gctatable. 
 
 " The winter began with a series of heavy snowfalls 
 which shut us all up in the fort for several weeks, and it 
 was early in December before I thought it safe to have 
 another try after the sheep. 
 
 " Then one fine, bright morning 1 started off, feeling very 
 
OF THE SNOW- RIDGE. 
 
 235 
 
 hopeful that I would return with my much-coveted prize. 
 The dog's, of course, went with me, but I liad no other 
 companion, nobody else having suflficient sporting ardour 
 to share in the risks of my expedition ; for it certainly 
 was full of risks, and had I been older and wiser I would 
 never have undertaken it. But I was young and strong 
 and full of spirit, and my eagerness to obtain a set of 
 horns had become a bit of a joke against me v '*^h the 
 fellows ; so that I was not in the mood to soberly weigh 
 the pros and cons of the matter. 
 
 " Thinking it possible I might be out all night, I rolled 
 up some provisions and matches in my thick plaid, and 
 strapped it on my shoulders. With hatchet and hunting- 
 knife in my belt, a full powder-horn at my side, snow- 
 shoes on feet and rifle in hand, I set out amid the good- 
 humoured chaffing of my fellow-clerks. 
 
 " Up into the mountains I climbed, keeping a keen 
 look-out for signs of the game I was seeking, while Bruce 
 and Oscar ranged right and left, so that we covered a good 
 deal of ground between us. By mid-day the climbing 
 became so steep and difficult that I had to take off my 
 snow-shoes, and strapped them on my back. They v tie 
 no longer necessary, at any rate, for the snow was covered 
 Avith a crust which bore me up admirably, and made easy 
 going for my moccasined feet. 
 
 " It was not until afternoon that the first sheep were 
 sighted, and, much to my delight, they seemed not far 
 away, and easy to get at. There were five in the flock : 
 
 horns- 
 
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 ON THE WRONG SIDE 
 
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 at'tei' — ami four fine cwos, wliicli, however, had iiothin*,^ to 
 tVmr from mo. 
 
 "Calling tlic dogs to heel, I proceeded to stalk tlit; 
 unsuspecting creatures with all the skill I possessed. It 
 proved a harder job than I thought. Tlicy were on a 
 kind of ledge several hundred feet above me, and in ordci- 
 to get a proper shot without giving thcni warning, it was 
 necessary to make a wide circuit, so as to reach a point 
 opposite their ledge from which a capital chance might 
 be had. 
 
 " By dint of great exertion, however, I reached the 
 point all right, and was just waiting a moment to catch 
 my breath before taking aim at the ram, when Oscar's 
 impatience overcame him, and he gave a .sharp bark. 
 Instantly the whole five animals started to flee. I threw 
 the rifle to my .shoulder and pulled the trigger. It was 
 nothing better than a .snap-shot, yet it did not miss ; for 
 with the report the ram sprang into the air, stumbled as 
 he came down, and then dashed ofl' again, leaving behind 
 him a plain trail of blood-drops on the white snow. 
 
 " With an exultant shout I sent the dogs forward, and 
 followed as fast as I could. I had to go down into a 
 ravine and get up the other side before reaching the 
 bloody trail. Forgetting everything else in my wild 
 excitement, I pressed on, guided by my dogs' .sharp bark- 
 ing. It Vv'as terribly hard work, and I had many a slij^ 
 and stumble ; but the red splashes in the snow grew larger 
 the fur*:her I went. Bleeding at the rate he was, the ram 
 surel}^ could not keep up his flight for any great distance. 
 
 i 
 
OF THE SNOW- RIDGE. 
 
 237 
 
 "Prescntlv I canic^ to a place that at any other time 
 would have L^roiiLiflit iiit; to a full stoi). i\ nM^'e of hard 
 frozen snow strcitehed hetwcen two roekv lediies. On the 
 one side it reached down to the edge of a precii)iee, which 
 then fell Mway al)ru[)tly into an unknown depth. On the 
 other sid<\ in one uidiroken sheet, it sloped down full 
 five Innidreil fn-t to a level upon which the snow lay in 
 j^reat drifts! The rain was already half-way across the 
 ridge, although evidently in distress, and the dogs were 
 hard at his heel, harking fiercely, for they knew that 
 victory was not far oft' 
 
 "Throwing all considerations of prudence to the winds, 
 I set out to follow theui. So nai'row was the ridge that 
 I could not stand erect, but had to sit astride it, and push 
 myself forward by using both hands and feet, I never 
 ffiauv.!:.^! 'low nie, lest I should lose my head; and at 
 length, almost cwmpletely exhausted, I succeeded in making 
 the other side. 
 
 " Here awaiting me was my (piarry, standing at bay 
 against the cliff, and butting off the dogs that were spring- 
 ing for his throat. It was some minutes before my nerves 
 were sufficiently steadied for me to use my ritie ; then one 
 shot was sufficient. With a convulsive spring the noble 
 animal scattered the dogs and fell dead at my feet. 
 
 " Oh, but wdiat a proud moment for me ! The horns 
 were splendid. A man might not get a finer pair in a 
 lifetime. With the utmost care I detached the head, and 
 then, for the first time since the chase began, sat down to 
 rest. 
 
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 238 
 
 6>^ TBI: WRONG SIDE 
 
 " I was so tired that I would have been glad to camp 
 here for the night. But there was absolutely nothing in the 
 way of slielter, and it promised to be bitterly cold and windy. 
 I must get back to the lower level before darkness came on. 
 
 " Securing the ram's head on my shoulders, where I 
 must say it felt abominably heavy, I returned to the ridge. 
 Not until then did I realize into what a critical position 
 my reckless ardour had brought me. One look at that 
 perilous passage-way was sufficient to assure me that in .hy 
 wearied and unnerved condition to recross it was a feat 
 utterly ini practicable. My dogs — two clever, sure-footed 
 creatures as they were — shrank back in evident dismay, 
 although I sought to urge them forward ; yet for me to 
 remain on that exposed ledge meant death by freezing 
 before morning. 
 
 " I was in a terrible predicament. Little more than an 
 hour of daylight remained. Whatever was to be done 
 needed to be done right away. While I stood there be- 
 wildered and irresolute, Oscar again ventured out a little 
 distance on the ridge, but, becoming frightened, tried to 
 turn back. In so doing he lost his footing, and, despite 
 desperate efforts to regain it, shot swiftly down the slope 
 that ended in a level five hundred feet below. 
 
 " With keen concern I watched him through the waning 
 light rolling helplessly over and over until after a final 
 tumble he landed in a great drift, out of A\'hich, to my 
 great joy, he emerged the next moment, shook himself 
 vigorously, and sent back a brisk biiric as though to say, 
 'Come along; it's not so bad ns it looks.' 
 
OF THE SNOW-RIDGE. 
 
 239 
 
 " Instantly I caught the idea. If my clog made the 
 descent uninjured, why could not I ? Great as the risk 
 might be, it was, after all, no worse than staying on the 
 ledge all night. To think was to act. Loosening the 
 ram's head from my back, I sent it down after Oscar. It 
 sped to the bottom and buried itself in a snow-bank. 
 Next I tied my rifle, hatchet, and hunting-knife on one of 
 the snow-shoes, and despatched them. Tliey, too, made the 
 trip all right, and vanished in the snow. Tlien came my 
 turn. Rolling up the plaid I lashed it on the remaining 
 snow-shoe, and committed myself to this extemporized 
 toboggan. 
 
 " What followed is more than I can tell. So steep was 
 ^ the slope that I seemed to drop into space. I was not 
 
 conscious of touching anything, but simply of being .shot 
 through the icy air, blinded by particles of snow, and 
 choking for lack of breath, until I was hurled like a stone 
 from a catapult into a mass of loo.sely-packcd snow, and lost 
 consciousness. 
 
 " When I came to myself, Bruce and Oscar were both 
 beside me, licking my face with affectionate anxiety. At 
 first I could not move, and mv whole bodv was .so full of 
 pain that I feared I had been seriously injured. But, 
 after lying still awhile, I made shift to got upon my feet, 
 and to my vast relief found myself none the worse of 
 mv wild descent, save for a scratchiMl face and a severe 
 shaking. 
 
 " Mv next thought was for the horns. I had no difli- 
 culty in extricating tliem or the rifle from their snowy 
 
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 240 
 
 OJV THE WRONG SIDE. 
 
 fl 
 
 bed, and found botli were uninjured. Strapping them 
 once more on my shoulders, and adjusting my snow-shoes, 
 I set off' down the ravine. 
 
 " To get back to tlie fort that evening was, of course, 
 out of the question, but I lioped to find some cavity in the 
 cliff where I could spend the night safely. Just bei\ t'. 
 dark I discovered a snug little place, perfectly protected 
 from the wind ; and tlu^re, with my plaid wrapped tight 
 around me, and my dogs curled up close against me, I put 
 in quite a comfortable night. As soon as the day broke 1 
 started for the fort, and reached it by noon, half starved 
 and very tired, but as proud of my trophy as David was 
 of Goliath's head." 
 
 A hearty round of applause followed the conclusion of 
 the old Scotchman's story, and by general consent it was 
 voted the best told during the evening. 
 
THROUGH THE TRACKLESS FOREST. 
 
 •^-»^>;^^«-t-er' 
 
 ''T^HE two features of nature in which her might, her 
 A majesty, her mystery, find fullest expression, are 
 the ocean and the forest. Refjardino- their vastness and 
 their unchansjino- character, in our weak endeavour to find 
 terms for the infinite we have made them symhols of 
 eternity. Irresistible, perennial is the fascination they 
 possess for man, and all-satisfying the measure with which 
 they respond to his demands. On ocean's bosom or in the 
 forest's heart he linds free play for his noblest qualities. 
 In nuaking them subservient to his will he has achieved his 
 grandest development. 
 
 Nowhere round the globe are the forests finer than on 
 this continent of ours. Boundless in extent and endless in 
 diversity, the eye never wearies of resting upon them or 
 seeking to penetrate their depths. Happily free as they 
 are from the dense matted undei'growth that makes prog- 
 ress through the forests of the tropics a continuous ]ieni- 
 tential pilgrimage, they present glorious vistas of silvan 
 shade, shot through with golden shafts of sunlight, down 
 which you may wander at your ease in unchecked com- 
 munion with nature. 
 
 (!)04) J|, 
 
 E V 
 
 ^-i I 
 
!.' 
 
 242 THROUGH THE TRACKLESS FOREST. 
 
 V^Y ^vay of comparison just place these two pictures side 
 by side. 
 
 Seeking to give some conception of the interminable 
 Congo forest, in which he spent so many months of misery, 
 Stanley exclaims : " Take a thick Scottish copse dripping 
 with rain ; imagine this copse to be a mere undergrowth, 
 nourished under the impenetrable shade of ancient trees, 
 ranging from one hundred feet to one hundred and eighty 
 feet high ; briers and tliorns abundant ; lazy creeks mean- 
 dering through the depths of the jungle, and sometimes 
 a deep affluent of a great river. Imagine this forest and 
 jungle in all stages of decay and growth — old trees falling, 
 leaning perilously over, fallen prostrate ; ants and insects 
 of all kinds, sizes, and colours murmuring around ; mon- 
 keys and chimpanzees above, queer noises of birds and 
 animals, crashes in the jungle as troops of elephants rush 
 away ; rain pattering down on you every other day in 
 the year ; an impure atmosphere, with its dread conse- 
 quences, fever and dysentery, gloom throughout the day 
 and darkness almost palpable throughout the night." 
 
 Turn now to Parkman, wlio knows and loves his forests 
 as Miss Murfree her mountains, and who has once and for 
 all time painted the picture of the great American forest : 
 " Deep recesses, where, veiled in foliage, some wild, shy 
 rivulet steals with timid music through breathless caves of 
 verdure ; gulfs where feathered crags rise like castle walls, 
 where the noonday sun pierces with keen rays athwart tlio 
 torrent, and the mossed arms of fallen pines cast wandering 
 shadows on the illumined foam ; pools of liquid crystal 
 
THROUGH THE TRACKLESS FOREST. 243 
 
 turned emerald in the reflected green of impending woods ; 
 rocks on whose i-iigged front the gleam of sunlit waters 
 dances in quivering light; ancient trees hurled headlong 
 by the storm to dam the raging stream with their forlorn 
 and savage ruin ; or the stern depths of inniiemorial forests, 
 dim and silent as a cavern, columned with iinnnuerable 
 trunks, each like an Atlas upholding its world of leaves, 
 and sweating perpetual moisture down its dark and chan- 
 nelled rind — some strong in youth, son\e gouty with de- 
 crepit age, nightmares of strange distortion, gnarled and 
 knotted with wens and goitres, roots intertwined beneath 
 like serpents petrified in an agony of contorted strife ; 
 green and glistening mosses cai'peting the rough ground, 
 mantling the rocks, turning pulpy stumps to mounds of 
 verdure, and swathing fallen trunks, as, bent in the im- 
 potence of rottenness, they lie outstretched over knoll and 
 hollow like mouldering reptiles of the primeval world, 
 while around, and on, and through them springs the young 
 growth that fattens on their decay — the forest devouring 
 its own dead. Or, to turn from its funereal shade to the 
 light and life, to the open woodland, the sheen of sparkling 
 lakes, and mountains basking in the glory of the summer 
 noon, flecked by the shadows of passing clouds that sail on 
 snowy wings across the transparent azure." 
 
 No pestilent fever or insidious deadly miasma lurks in 
 our forests. On the contrary, their pure, piny breath 
 brings back health to many an ailing mortal, and beneath 
 their feathery hemlocks and aromatic spruces one may lie 
 down at night in sweet security from snakes, or centipedes, 
 
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 244 TIIROUGU THE TRACKLESS EOREST 
 
 ■ ! . 
 
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 or other crawling horrors that make each night in a tropi- 
 cal forest a period of peril. 
 
 Is there one of us recalling the life of the coiireiiTS de 
 hois, the men who above all others made the trackless 
 forest their own, does not feel a stirring of the pulses of 
 admiration and envy, and a pathetic regret that those 
 romantic days in which they flourished are over for ever ? 
 They were the natural outcome of the beaver trade, which 
 in the earliest stao-e of Canadian history formed the 
 struggling French colony's chief source of support. All 
 that was most active and vigorous in the colony took to 
 the woods, thereby escaping from the oppressive control of 
 intendants, councils, and priests, to the savage freedom of 
 the wilderness. Not only were the possible profits great, 
 but in the pursuit of them there was a fascinating element 
 of adventure and danger, which irresistibly appeals to the 
 spirit of enterprise and daring that civilization has not yet 
 quite extinguished w'ithin our breasts. 
 
 Though not a very valuable member of society, and a 
 thorn in the side of princes and rulers, the coureur de hoU 
 had his uses, at least from an artistic point of view ; and 
 his stranii'e figure, sometimes brutally savaofe, but oftener 
 marked with the lines of a dare-devil courage, and a reck- 
 less, thoughtless gaiety, will always be joined to the memo- 
 ries of that grand world of woods which the nineteenth 
 century is fast civilizing out of existence. 
 
 Lost in the forest ! What a thrill runs swift to the 
 heart as we repeat the words ! Ever since our young eyes 
 overflowed at the innnortal legend of the babes in the 
 
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!46 THROUGH THE TRACKLEliS FOREST, 
 
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 wood, sleeping the sleep that know no awakening beneatli 
 the leafy winding-sheet brought them by their bird 
 mourners, wo seem to have had a clear conception of all 
 the terrors the phrase implies, and we follow with throbbing 
 pulses and bated breath the recital of such an experience 
 as the foremost and noblest of all the pioneers of these 
 North American forests had. 
 
 One eventful autumn, nearly three centuries ago, Cham- 
 plain had caught sight of a strange-looking bird, and left 
 his party to go in pursuit. Flitting from tree to tree, the 
 bird lured him deeper and deeper into the forest, then took 
 wing and vanished. On essaying to retrace his steps 
 Champlain found himself at a loss. Whither should he 
 turn ? The day was clouded, and he had left his compass 
 in camp. The forest closed around him, trees mingled 
 with trees in limitless confusion. Bewildered and lost he 
 wandered all day, and at night slept fasting at the foot of 
 a great tree. Awaking chilled and faint, he walked until 
 afternoon, then happily found a pond upon whose bosom 
 were water-fowl, some of which he shot, and for the iirst 
 time broke his fast. Kindling a fire he prepared his sup- 
 • per, and lay down to sleep in a drencliing rain. Another 
 day of blind and weary wandering succeeded, and another 
 night of exhaustion. He found paths in the wilderness, 
 but they had not been made by human feet. After a time 
 the tinklinq; of a brook touched his ear, and he determined 
 to follow its course, in the hope that it would lead him to 
 the river whore his party was encamped. " With toilsome 
 steps he traced the infant stream, now lost beneath the 
 
THROUGH THE TRACKLESS FOREST. 
 
 ^47 
 
 decaying masses of fallen trunks or the impervious in- 
 tricacies of matted windfalls, now stealing through swampy 
 thickets or gurgling in the shade of rocks, till it entered at 
 length, not into the river, but into a small lake. Circling 
 around the brink, he found the point where, gliding among 
 clannny roots of alders, the brook i-an out and resumed its 
 course." Pressing persistently forward, he at length forced 
 his way out of the entanglement of underbrush into an 
 open meadow, and there before him rolled the river, broad 
 and turbulent, its bank marked with the portage-path by 
 which the Indians passed the neighbouring rapids. The 
 good God be praised ! he had found the clue he sought. 
 Inexpressibly relieved, he hastened along the river-side, 
 and in a few hours more was being joyfully welcomed by 
 his companions, who had been anxiously seai'ching for him. 
 "From that day forth," we are told, "his host, Dnrantal, 
 would never suffer him to go into the forest alone." 
 
 Althouii'h the coitreur de hois has lone; since made his 
 exit, there still remains in Canada a class of men who have 
 somewhat in common with him. These are lumber-scouts 
 or bush-rangers, whose business it is to seek for " limits " 
 that will pay handsome profits. It is boards, not beavers, 
 they have npon their minds. They are often Indians or 
 half-breeds, and the skill of these self-taught surveyors is 
 sometimes very remarkable. They will explore the length 
 and breadth of the ienu incognita, and report upon the 
 kind and value of its tind)er, the situation, and ca]iability 
 of its streams for floating out the logs, and the facilitii'S 
 for hauling and transportation. They will even map out 
 
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 24.S TUIWUGH THE TRACKLESS FOREST. 
 
 tlie surface of tlio countiy, sliowing tlic position of its 
 streams and lakes, its groves of timber, and its mountainous 
 or level appearance, with a skill and accuracy bewildering 
 to ordinary mortals, in whose eyes the whole district would 
 be one great confused wilderness. 
 
 No more interesting experience in woodcraft could be 
 had than a scouting excursion in such company. The 
 trackless forest has no terrors, no mysteries for them. To 
 them Nature opens her heart, and tells all her secrets. In 
 lightest marching order, each man's entire equipment being 
 carried in a shoulder-pack upheld by a " tump-line " around 
 the forehead, they plunge into the wilderness. With un- 
 erring instinct they pursue their way, now following the 
 course of some winding stream, now circling a tiny lake 
 lying gem-like in a verdurous setting, now scrambling 
 amongst cliflfs, where, to paraphrase Parkman, seeing but 
 unseen, the crouched wild-cat eyes them from the thicket ; 
 now threading a maze of water-girded rocks, which the 
 white cedar and the spruce clasp with serpent-like roots ; 
 then diving into leafy depths where the rock-maple rears 
 its green masses, the beech its glistening leaves and clear 
 smooth stem, while behind, stiff and sombre, stands tlu^ 
 balsam fir, and the white pine towers proudly over all. 
 
 When night falls they make their simple bivouac, and 
 their roaring camp-fire like a magician's wand strangely 
 transforms the scene. As the flame casts its keen red light 
 around, wild forms stand forth against the outer gloom — 
 the oak, a giant in rusty mail ; the mighty pyramid of the 
 pine ; the wan and ghastly birch, looking like a spectre in 
 
TJIROUGH THE TRACKLESS EOREST. 249 
 
 )Uld 
 
 tho darkness, Tlio campers gather close around the ruddy 
 flame made welcome by tho cool breath of approaching 
 autunm, and after the broiled trout or roast duck have 
 disappeared, and an incense offering of fragrant smoke 
 ascended from their pipes, they curl up in tlieir blankets, 
 and sleep as only those who live such a life can sleep, 
 serenely oblivious of tho harsh shriek of the owl, the 
 mournful howl of the wolf, or the soft footfall of some 
 prowling beast that breaks in upon the breathless stillness. 
 
 Splendid as our forests are at midsummer when the 
 delighted eye roams unweariedly over their billowy ex- 
 panses of sumptuous verdure, it is in the autumn time that 
 they reach their rarest beauty. Then for a brief space 
 before they strip themselves of their foliage to stand bare 
 and shivering through the long, cold winter, they change 
 their garb of green into a myriad of hues of gold and flame. 
 
 A keen frosty night following upon the decline of sum- 
 mer heat, and lo, as though some mighty magician had 
 been at w^ork, a marvellous transformation awaits our 
 admiration ! Where yesterday a single colour in various 
 tints prevailed, to-day w^e behold every possible shade of 
 brilliant scarlet, tender violet, sombre brown, vivid crimson, 
 and glittering yellow. The beech, the birch, the oak, and 
 above all, the maple, have burst forth into one harmonious 
 and entrancing chorus of colour — the swan song of the 
 dying foliage — the stern, straight fir alone maintaining its 
 eternal green, as if it said : " Behold in me the symbol of 
 steadfastness." Yerily, the wide world round, a more 
 splendid and enchanting silvan panorama cannot be found. 
 
I: 
 
 WRECKS AND WRECKERS OF ANTICOSTT. 
 
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 RIGHT in the iiioiitli of tlie gi-eat St. LfUvrci:co, Avliich 
 without uxau'wration lias heeii called "the nohltst, 
 the purest, the most enchanting' river on all God's beautH'ul 
 earth," lies a long, narrow island that nnglit with e(j,ual 
 propriety be called the dreariest, most iidiospitablc, and 
 most destructive island on the earth ; for it is doubtful if 
 any otiier spot of corresponding size has caused so many 
 shipwrecks and so nuich hinnan suttering. 
 
 In ton years, according to official records, there have 
 been as many as one hundred and six wrecks, including 
 seven steamships and sixty-seven sailing-ships or barques, 
 having on board no less than three thousand precious souls, 
 and cargoes worth millions of pounds. 
 
 Years ago, before the Canadian Government o'ectod 
 lighthouses and established relief stations, the wrecks 
 more numerous still, and were rarely unattended 'witi .)ss 
 of life. But tim(}s are better now, and when a wreck 
 occurs, unless it be in one of those terrible winter storms 
 that seem to make this ill-omened isle their centre, the 
 crew generally manage to make the land in safety, where 
 they are well cared for by the government officials. 
 
•tM 
 
 WRECKS AND WRECKERS OF ANTICOSTL -51 
 
 Fur (lifroivnfc was it in 17.*}7, wlien the French slonp-of- 
 Nvar L(i Ihnontna'i'. stranded upon n cruel k'd<:,^o of rocks, 
 liardly a niilo off shore, n])Out oiiL;lit leagues from the 
 soutliern point of Antieosti. 
 
 It was in the month of November, just as winter, which 
 could nowhere have been more dreadful than on that bleak, 
 barren, shelterless island, was fast closing in. In their 
 mad haste to reach the land — for the waves were breaking 
 high over the vessel — the crew took little food with them, 
 although gallant Captain di; Frencuso did not forget to 
 take the ship's colours. 
 
 Wlien in the gray, grim morning they came to reckon 
 up, they found, to their dismay, that with six months of 
 hopeless captivity before them, they had barely enough 
 food for forty days, allowing the scantiest of daily rations 
 to each of the sixty-tive men who had survived the ship- 
 wreck. 
 
 The sequel, as related with simple, graphic pathos by 
 Father Crespel, one of the few who ultimately emerged 
 from the terrible ordeal, constitutes as grand a record of 
 human courage and endurance and as harrowing a history 
 of human sutlerinu' as ever has been told. 
 
 The poor castaways had nothing but a Utile canvas 
 to shelter them from the ki>en, biting blasts. Fever 
 presently broke out amongst them. Then half of them 
 set fort' in two small boats to coast around that merciless 
 shore for forty leagues, after which they made a hazardous 
 dash across twelve leagues of open sea to Mingan, where 
 Frencl lishermen were known to winter. 
 
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 252 ll'KECKS AND WRECKERS OF ANTICOSTI. 
 
 Tli(3 "jolly-boat" "svas swainpcMl after tlioy liad been 
 five (lays out, and its tliirtocn occupants vore thus spari'd 
 further misery. At last the ice setting in made the prog- 
 ress of the other boat impossilde, and they had no alter- 
 native but to go into Avinter (juaitcrs and wait for the 
 tardy spring. 
 
 With two pounds of damp, mouldy flour and two |)<)iuids 
 of unsavoury fox-meat per day, these seventeen men, 
 housed in rude huts of spruce bouglis, prepared to emhue 
 the long ngony of winter, Onc(^ a week a spoonful of pc;is 
 was served out to each man; which constituted sucli a treat 
 that, as Father C'respd naively puts it, "On those days we 
 had our lu'st meal." 
 
 Hungei', cold, and (lisefisc carried oft' one by one as the 
 months dragged themsehes along, until at length only 
 tlireo still lived, when a l»and of Indians came just in time 
 to save this renuiant from pei'ishing. 
 
 All this and more; is told by heroic Father Crespel with 
 a quaint sim})licity, a ndnnteness of detail, and a, pcrtVct 
 submission to tlu^ ])ivine will, that renders his iccitnl 
 extremely touching. 
 
 Not less saddening is the story of the stout brig (n'cui- 
 ciiy, which in 1828 went to jneccs otl' the east (Mid nf 
 the island, also in the monlli of Noveudur. i\Iany of tlif 
 crew escapiMl t(^ land, but with littl(> more than the clothiuL;' 
 they wore. 
 
 Winter soon closed in upon them. Xo succour came. 
 Their provisions gave out, ami what followed may 1"' 
 iudii'ed from the awful siijht that met the eyes of some 
 
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 254 ir RECKS AND WRECKERS OE AXTICOSTI. 
 
 goveriniioiit officials when the followmg spring they stunihled 
 across a riule hut strewn with human skeletons, and, in 
 the pot that hung over the long-dead ashes, some bones 
 that were not those of an animal. 
 
 Those dreadful days arc happily past and gone. Few 
 lives are lost on Anticosti now Four fine lighthouses send 
 their cheering rays across the anxious mariner's patli. 
 signal-guns and steam-whistles sound friendly notes of 
 warning when the frequent fogs dim the lights, and half- 
 a-dozon telegraph-stations at di tie rent points are ready to 
 speed at once the news of disaster to the mainland by 
 means of the submarine cable. 
 
 Where wrecks are plentiful, and the controlling hand of 
 the law is absent, w^reckers are sure to be plentiful also. 
 Anticosti has been no exception to this rule. The island 
 has had its share of those who did not hesitate to pursue 
 this nefarious business. 
 
 From the earliest times the place has held out attractions 
 to the fisherman and the hunter. The cod, halibut, herring, 
 and other iish that it pays to catch, abound along the coast; 
 huge lobsters play hide-and-seek among the sea-weeds, and 
 very good salmon and trout may be caught in some of the 
 streams, while round-headed, mild-eyed seals spend the 
 greater part of the year sporting in the waves or basking 
 on the shore. 
 
 Then away inland there are, or used to be, bears, otters, 
 martens, and foxes, to be had for the shooting or trapping. 
 
 Coming first to fish and hunt, the fishermen and hunters 
 in mnny cases stayed to play the part of wreckers. There 
 
jy 
 
 WRECKS AND WRECKERS OF ANTICOSTI. 255 
 
 was a good deal more money to bo made out of the flotsam 
 and jetsam that tlie storms sent tlieir way tlian out of lisli 
 or fur, and tliey made the most of their opportunities. 
 
 One thing, however, must be said in their behalf. They 
 have never been accused of luring vessels to destruction by 
 false lights, or of confirming their title to the goods cast up 
 by the sea by acting upon the principle that dead men are 
 not competent witnesses in court, and by tlespatching any 
 of tlie .shipwrecked who might have survived the disaster. 
 On the contrary, more than one unfortunate crew have owed 
 the preservation of their lives to those very wreckers. 
 
 The most renowned of them all — a man of whom it might 
 in truth be said that there was not a St. Lawrence pilot 
 or a Canadian sailor who knew him not by reputation, or 
 a parish between Quebec and Ga.spe where marvellous tales 
 were not told about him around tlie evening fire— was Louis 
 Olivier Gamache. In these .stories he figured as the beau- 
 ideal of a pirate, half ogre, half sea-wolf, who enjoyed the 
 friendship and .special protectic of a familiar demon. 
 
 The learned and loquacious j.'ibbe Ferland, in his dainty 
 little volume of " Opuscules," which I hold in my hand, 
 tells us about this wonderful ( lamache, that, according to 
 popular rumour, he had been .seen to .stand u|)right upon 
 the thwarts of his sloop, and comnumd the demon to bring 
 him a cnpfnl of wind. Instantly his sails were filled, 
 though the sea around him was in a glassy calm, and away 
 he went, while all about him were vessels powerless to 
 move. 
 
 During a trip to Rimouski he gave a grand supper to 
 
 I i. 
 
 
 111 I ii ) 
 li 1 
 
 l.:.i 
 
ill 
 
 
 V'll 
 
 'uH' 
 
 ik., * 
 
 256 WRECKS AND WRECKERS OF ANTICOSTI. 
 
 the devil, not to a devil of the second clus.s, but to the 
 veritable old gentleman himself. Aided by invisible assist- 
 ants, he had massacred whole crews, and appropriated to 
 himself the rich cargoes of their vessels. When hotly 
 pursued by a government boat sent to capture him, and 
 just about being overtaken, both sloop and Gamacho 
 suddenly disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a blue 
 Hame that went dancin<Tf over the waves in mockino- defiance 
 of the disappointed minions of the law. 
 
 Upon such thrilling legends as these was founded the 
 reputation of the " Wizard of Anticosti," and so generally 
 were they believed that the genial abbe assures us that 
 the majority of the mariners in the gulf would rather have 
 attempted to scale the citadel of Quebec than to approach 
 by night the bay where Gamache was known to have his 
 stronghold. 
 
 We can put plenty of confidence in the abbe, for in the 
 year 1852 he had the courage to pay the wizard a visit, 
 and I am sorry that I have not room to give the full 
 particulars of that visit as they are brightly presented by 
 this ever-entertaining writer. 
 
 He found the terror-inspiring Gamache to be a tall, 
 erect, and vigorous old man, with snow-white hair but 
 piercing e3''es, who came forward to meet his visitors with 
 an easy, dignified bearing that betrayed no concern or 
 troubled conscience. 
 
 His house appeared to be a perfect arsenal of deadly 
 weapons. No fewer than a dozen guns, many of them 
 double-barrelled, grimly adorned the walls of the first room 
 
^p 
 
 WRECKS AND WRECKERS OE ANTICOSTI. 257 
 
 they cnto]-etl, and every other room up to the very garret 
 had at least two or three more, loaded and capped ; tliey 
 hung upon racks, surrounded by powder-flasks, shot-bags^ 
 swords, sabres, daggers, bayonets, and pistols, in most im- 
 posing profusion. 
 
 The house itself was something of a fortress. Every 
 possible precaution had been taken to prevent persons 
 entering it without the permission of its master. All the 
 doors and windows were strongly barred and shuttered, 
 and so complete were the defences that one man inside 
 might have dehed twenty outside. In the sheds, arranged 
 in the most orderly manner, were long rows of barrels, 
 bales, casks, and other gifts of the sea. 
 
 Such was the den of the dreaded wrecker, a man not 
 one tithe so bad as wild rumour made him, but who, 
 nevertheless, took pains to intensify the public feeling 
 about himself, in order that he might bo the more undis- 
 turbed in the solitude he had chosen for himself in that 
 strange, wild place. 
 
 He had not always been alone, either. Twice had a 
 woman been found willino- to brave the rigours of his life 
 for love of him, and in both cases they had succundjcd to 
 the terrible loneliness and desolation. His second wife 
 died suddenly, while ho was off on a hunting-trip in mid- 
 winter ; and ho returned, after a i'ortnight's absence, to 
 find her frozen form cliispiug to its icy breast the bodies 
 of their two little children, the one five and the other six 
 years old. 
 
 " That is how they will find me some day. Each one 
 
 (004) 1 7 
 
 i 
 
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 !i i . 
 
 i 
 
 11 
 
 « 
 
,! I ! 
 
 ri 
 
 , ( 
 
 258 WRECKS AND WRECKERS OF ANTICOSTI. 
 
 in their turn. Ah ! well — since slie is dead we can only 
 bury her." 
 
 That was all the strange, taciturn man said to his com- 
 panion, a hunter who had been with him, and yet he had 
 always shown his wife the greatest kindness and affection. 
 It was not that he was heartless, but that he would rather 
 have died than reveal the depth of his feeling. 
 
 He amused the abbe very much by relating the various 
 devices to which he had resorted in order to heighten his 
 reputation for diabolic associations, He would go to a 
 country inn, for instance, order a supper for two to be 
 served in a private room, stating that he expected a gentle- 
 man in sable garments to share it with him. 
 
 When the supper was ready he would then lock himself 
 up in the room, polish the supper off unaided, and sunnnon 
 the astonished landlady to clear the remains away, as he 
 and his friend had supped and were satisfied. He would 
 further increase their mystification by sundry rappings, and 
 inexplicable openings and shuttings of doors. 
 
 He could also employ more sinister means of protecting 
 himself when necessary. One day, when he was quite 
 alone, a canoe glided into the bay, and presently a gigantic 
 IMontagnais Indian stepped ashore, armed to the teeth, and 
 advanced with a firm step towards the house. 
 
 He was evidently crazed with fire-water, and Gamache 
 felt in no mootl to try a tussle with so brawny an op- 
 ponent. Standing in the doorway, with a rille in his 
 hands, he called out in his sternest tones, — 
 
 " Stop ! I forbid you to advance." 
 
STL 
 n only 
 
 s com- 
 
 lie had 
 
 Fection. 
 
 rather 
 
 various 
 I ten his 
 ro to a 
 
 to b 
 
 e 
 
 o'cntle- 
 
 himself 
 
 mnnnon 
 
 r, as he 
 
 \vould 
 
 igs, and 
 
 otecting* 
 s quite 
 o'io-antic 
 th, and 
 
 i am ache 
 
 an op- 
 
 in his 
 
 WRECKS AND WRECKERS OF ANTICOSTL 259 
 
 The intruder took not the slightest notice of him. 
 
 " Take anotlier step and I fire," shouted Ganuiche. The 
 step was taken, but before it could be repeated, the ritle 
 spoke and the Indian fell, his thigh-bone smashed with the 
 bullet. In an instant Gamache was beside the wounded 
 man. Removing his weapons, ho lifted him to his shoulder, 
 and bore him tenderly to the house, and there nursed him 
 until he was completely recovered. 
 
 Then filling his canoe with provisions, he sent him back 
 to his tribe, with a warning never to intrude upon Gamache 
 again unless he wanted a bullet through his head instead 
 of his thigh. 
 
 In 1854, Louis Olivier Gamache died, like his poor wife, 
 alone and unattended. For weeks no one had visited his 
 abode, and when at last some seafarers chanced that ^Yay 
 they found only the corpse of the once dreaded wizard, 
 whose supposed league with evil spirits did not avail to 
 save him from fulfilling his own prophecy. 
 
 The wrecks continue at Anticosti. Not lonq; ao-o the 
 shattered skeletons of four fine ocean steamers might have 
 been seen upon its fatal shores, but with Gamache the 
 reign of the wreckers ended, never to return. 
 
 III 
 
 "ti 
 
 m: 
 
 ■ I 
 
A LUMBER CAMP. 
 
 - -~=^^^^»S^P^-*^<Si' — 
 
 li) 
 
 i i 
 
 THERE is no summer in a Canadian lumber camp ; 
 that is to say, there is nobody in the camp in 
 summer, which amounts to the same thing. The season of 
 activity in the camps, or the " shanties " as they are gener- 
 ally called, extends from late September to early April, 
 and all summer long they are left to the care of birds tliat 
 chirp and squirrels that chatter on the roof. 
 
 In the month of September the Canadian lumberman 
 joins the gang of sturdy, active men who are bound for 
 the " shanties," where a winter of hard work awaits them. 
 For him the forests exist only to be remorselessly cut down ; 
 but though he may never stop to think about it, his is a 
 very romantic and fascinating occupation. 
 
 September is one of the loveliest months in the Canadian 
 calendar. The days are still long and sunny. The heat 
 of summer has passed away, and the chill of autumn not 
 yet come. One cloudless day follows another, and nature 
 seems to be doing her best to make existence a delight. 
 This is the time when the shantymen gather into gangs, 
 and by rail or steamer journey northward until they pass 
 
camp ; 
 [imp ill 
 jason oi' 
 i gener- 
 Y April, 
 rds tliat 
 
 ibennan 
 
 und for 
 
 is them. 
 
 down ; 
 
 his is a 
 
 lanadian 
 Ihe heat 
 imn not 
 nature 
 delight, 
 gangs, 
 ley pass 
 
 A LUMBER CAMP. 
 
 261 
 
 the limits of settlement. Then taking to " shanks' mare " 
 they make their way into the depths of the forest. 
 
 Let us follow a gang that is going upon a " limit " still 
 untouched by the axe, far up the Black River, a tributary 
 of the Ottawa, a hundred miles or more from the nearest 
 village. This gang consists of about forty men, including 
 the foremen, clerk, carpenter, cook, and chore-boy, all active, 
 sturdy, and good-natured fellows. Most of them are French - 
 Canadians — Jiahltans, as the local term is — but English, 
 Scotch, and Irish are found among them too, and quite 
 often swarthy, wild-eyed men whose features tell plainly 
 of Indian blood. 
 
 Scouts have previously selected the best site for the 
 camp. It is usually in the midst of the " bunch " of timber 
 to be cut, so that little time may be lost in rroincf and 
 cominoj. On arrivincf, the first thino; done l)y the o-anc; is 
 to build the shanty, which is to be its home during the 
 long, cold winter. 
 
 This edifice makes no pretence to architectural beauty, 
 but nothing could be bettor adapted to its purpose. It is 
 an illustration of simplicity and strength comljined. With 
 all hands helping heartily, a shanty forty feet long by 
 twenty-eight feet wide can be put up in five days. Mean- 
 time the builders live in tents. 
 
 This is the way they go about it : — First of all, a number 
 of trees are cut down. The trunks, cleared of all their 
 branches, are sawed into proper lengths, and then laid one 
 upon another until an enclosure with walls eight feet high 
 is obtained. Upon the top of these walls strong girders 
 
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 ii ! 
 
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mrr^ 
 
 262 
 
 A LUMBER CAMP 
 
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 M 
 
 are stretched, which are supported in tlic centre by four 
 great pillars called " scoop-bearers." 
 
 Then comes the roof. A Canadian shanty roof is neither 
 tiled nor shingled, but " scooped." What is a " scoop " ? 
 It is a piece of timber something like a very long railway 
 tie, one side of which is hollowed out, trough-wise, clear to 
 the ends. Place two of these side by side, with the concave 
 sides upward, and then lay another o)\ top of them, concave 
 side down, so that the edges ovt;rlap and fall into the 
 troughs, and you have a roof that will defy the heaviest 
 rains or wildest snow-storms that Canada can produce. 
 
 A floor of roughly-flattened timbers having been laid 
 and a door cut, it only remains to construct the " camboose," 
 or fireplace, and the bunks, and the shanty is complete ; 
 provided, of course, every cranny in the walls has been 
 chinked with moss and mud, and a bank of earth thrown 
 up all aroujid. the outside to make sure that no draughts 
 can sneak in when the mercury is far below zero. 
 
 The " camboose " is quite an important affair, and occupies 
 the place of honour in the centre of the room between the 
 four massive scoop-bearers. Its construction is as rude and 
 simple as that of the rest of the shanty, A bank of .sand 
 about two feet deep and six feet square makes the hearth. 
 Over it hang two wooden cranes that hold the capacious 
 kettles, which are always full of the pea-soup or fat salt 
 pork that constitute the chief items in the shantymen's bill 
 of fare. 
 
 A mighty fire roars and crackles unceasingly upon the 
 hearth, its smoke escaping through a square hole in the 
 
A LUMHER CAMP. 
 
 263 
 
 roof— a hole so Lig tluit ono may lie in tlic l»iink.s and 
 study the stars. This rude cliinnicy secures tlie l>est of 
 ventilation to the sliantynien. The hunks, wliieli are simply 
 sloping platforms ahout seven feet in hnigth, running' around 
 three sides of the room, offer the; sweet allurement of the 
 soft side of a plank to the tired toilers at the close of the 
 day. 
 
 Such is a shanty of the good old-fashioned sort. In 
 later days such refinements of civilization as windows, 
 stoves, and tables have been added by progressive lumber- 
 men, but there are still scores of shanties to which the 
 above description applies. 
 
 The shantymen are now ready to begin operations against 
 the great trees that have been standing all about, silent, 
 unconscious spectators of the undertaking. The forty men 
 are divided according to the nature of their work. The 
 clerk, cook, and chore-boy are the " home-guard." The 
 others, according to their various abilities, are choppers, 
 road-cutters, teamsters, sawyers, and cliainers. 
 
 The only duty requiring explanation is that of chore-boy. 
 It is usually performed by the youngest member of the 
 gang, although sometimes it falls to the lot of a man well 
 up in years. The chore -boy is the cook's assistant and 
 general utility worker of the shanty. He has to chop the 
 firewood, draw the water, wash the dishes, and perform a 
 multitude of such odd jobs, in return for which he is apt 
 to get little thanks and much abuse. 
 
 The choppers have the most important and interesting 
 part of the work. They always work in pairs, and go out 
 
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 '.64 
 
 A LUMBER CAMP. 
 
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 ai[,'<'iin.st the troos armed witli a keen axo apioco niid a cross- 
 cut-saw between them. Having seh.'cted their victim — say 
 a si)lendi(l pine, towering more than a Imnflrt'd tVet in the 
 air they take up tlu'ir position at eaeli side. Soon the 
 strokes of the axes ring ont in (|niek succession. For .some 
 time the yellow chips liy fast, and presently a .shiver runs 
 through the tree's mighty frame. One of the choppers 
 cries warningly to the other, who hastens to get out of the 
 way. A few more strokes are givoii with nice skill. Then 
 comes a rending crack, whose meaning cannot be mistaken ; 
 and the stately tree, after quivering a moment as though 
 uncertain which way to fall, cra.shes headlong to the ground, 
 making a wide swath throiiii'h the smaller trees standini; 
 near. 
 
 A good chopper can lay his tree almost exactly where 
 ho like.s, and yet .somehow accidents are of frequent occur- 
 rence. Every winter additions are made to the long list of 
 men whom the trees have .succeeded in involving in their 
 own ruin. A gust of wind, the proximity of another tree, 
 or some such influence may cause the falling trunk to 
 swerve, and fall with fatal force upon the unwary chopper. 
 
 The tree felli^l, the next proceeding is to strip it of its 
 branches, and saw it up into as many logs as can be got 
 from it. Two, three, four, or even as many as five logs 
 may be obtained from a single tree — the length of each 
 being thirteen and a half feet or sixteen and a half accord- 
 ing to the quality. The odd half- foot is allowed for the 
 " brooming " of the ends as the 1oq:s make their rough 
 journey down the streams to the mills. 
 
each 
 
 \ i 
 
 ,! »: 
 
 I.UMliJ::iiI>U. 
 
 Page see. 
 
fr ' 
 
 266 
 
 ./ LUMBER CAMP. 
 
 if 
 
 ■'ii 
 
 Eiglity logs foiled, trimmed, and sawed is quite an ordinary 
 day's work i'cjr one pair of choppers ; and when the choppers 
 have been " striving " — that is, each pair trying its best to 
 outdo the others — six hundred logs have been turned in by 
 a single pair as the splendid result of a week's work. 
 
 The logs are at first piled up on " roll-ways," which are 
 simply two tree-trunks placed a little distance apart. Later 
 on, when the road-makers have done their part, the team- 
 sters bear them off to the bank of the stream or out upon 
 the ice of the lake, where they wait the coming of spring- 
 to begin their journey by water to the mills. 
 
 The shantyman leads a free, hearty, healthy life. From 
 dawn until dark he works in the open air, exercising lungs 
 and muscles. When the autunni I'ains are over, and the 
 snow has come to stav, ho breathes for four months the 
 clear, cold, bracing air of the Canadian winter, fragrant 
 with the scent of pine and cedar. No matter how fond 
 of drink he may be, not one drop of liquor can he have, 
 although he may and does drink long and deep from the 
 " cup that cheers." 
 
 His fare possesses at least t\\o sterling merits. It is 
 substantial in quality and unlimited in quantity. Ho 
 enjoys it most when the dny's work is over, and, no less 
 weary than hungry, he trudges home to the shanty. There 
 he finds the warm welcome of a steaming supper await- 
 
 ing him. 
 
 Drawn up al)out the blazing fire he sees a pot of excellent 
 pea-soup, a boihr of strong tea, a big pan fnll of fat pork 
 fried and tloacing in gravy, anotlier pan containing slices of 
 
A LUMBER CAMP. 
 
 '67 
 
 coll] l)oilecl pork, Imge loaves of brccad baked in great iron 
 pots buried deep in the ashes of the "cand)00se" — and 
 better than city baker ever made — and a pile of briglit tin 
 basins. 
 
 Picking up two of the basins, he fills one with soup and 
 the other with tea. Helping himself to a generous slice of 
 the hot bread, he makes use of it as a plate for a slice of 
 the pork. Then he retires to the edge of his bunk, and 
 with the aid of his clasp-knife discusses this solid if not 
 varied repast. 
 
 There is not much change in the bill of fare all winter. 
 Occasionally, perhaps, if the roads permit, fresh beef " on 
 foot " will be sent up from the depot, and the lumbermen 
 may enjoy the luxury of steaks and I'oasts. Quite often, 
 too, a bit of game will fall in their way "while they are 
 working in the woods. Great is the rejoicing when Franrois 
 or Alec succeeds in brinuiniif down a fat deer. Bear-steak, 
 too, is not unknown. The bear is trapped in a " dead fall," 
 or small hut above the door of which a heavy log is hung 
 in such a way that it drops with crushing force upon the 
 bear pushing in to get at the bait. 
 
 Sometimes the shantymen do a little trapping on their 
 own account. One of them, who wished to obtain a fine 
 bear-skin, paid dearly for his prize. He had set his steel 
 spring trap, and returning after an intervab found that it 
 had disappeared. The marks in the snow made tracking 
 easy ; and hurrying along, he presently reached a great log 
 over which the trap had evidently been dragged. His 
 haste made him careless, and springing across the broad 
 
 i III 
 
 ) l\ 
 
WWT 
 
 
 268 
 
 A LUMBER CAMP, 
 
 
 I If 
 
 trunk without stopping to reconnoitre, he threw himself 
 right into the arms of the bear. The animal, weary of 
 dragging tlie heavy trap, was resting on the other side. 
 
 The hunted creature was furious with pain. The shanty- 
 man's only weapon was his sheath-knife, which he drew 
 and stabbed the bear again and again in the breast. But 
 stab as he might he could not loose the brute's fatal grasp. 
 Next day his comrades, anxiously following up his trail, 
 found him dead, with the dead bear's paws still holding 
 him fast. 
 
 The shantyman's recess comes v.dien the evening meal 
 has been despatched. He has an hour or more before bed- 
 time. It is pipes all round, and song and joke and story 
 win generous applause from the not over-critical audience. 
 The French-Canadians are especially fond of singing. They 
 have many songs, some of which, like " A la claire fontaine " 
 and " En roulant ma boule," are full of spirit and beauty. 
 If Francois or Alec has remembered to brine: bis iid<llo 
 with liim — and he seldom forgets it — the singing is sure 
 to be followed by dancing as the evening goes on. 
 
 Bedtime comes early in the slianty. By nine o'clock, 
 at the latest, all have " turned in." The process of going 
 to bed consists simply in taking off one's coat and boots, 
 and rolling up snugly in a couple of thick blankets. Many 
 a millionaire would gladly give one of his millions for the 
 ability to sleep as soundly and restfully in his soft bed as 
 does the shantyman upon Ids pine boards. 
 
 In the dusk of early morning the foreman's loud voice 
 is heard calling to the men, — 
 
A LL'MBER CAMP. 
 
 269 
 
 " Turn out now, and get your breakfast ! " 
 
 Tlio luinbernian lias been asleep ton good hours, but 
 he feels as if he had just lain down ■ 
 
 Sunday is the day the shantynian likes best. No work 
 is done upon that day. He can spend the time as he 
 l)leases. Generally he is content to lounge about smoking, 
 and enjoying the luxury of doing nothing. A religious 
 service is .so rare a treat that when there is one all attend 
 it A'v -thout reference to their creed. 
 
 Thus the long whiter slips by. The logs accumulate 
 upon the river bank or out upon the icy lake. When the 
 ^varm days of spring come the luinberiiian's labours iiie at 
 an end, so far as the .shanty is concerned. The great spring- 
 drive begins. The logs start upon their journey southward, 
 and the shantyinan becomes a river-driver. Armed with 
 pike-pole or camp-hook, he hurries his awkward squads of 
 logs down stream as a shepherd drives his Hock to market. 
 
 This is often a very exciting and dangerous occupation. 
 The Canadian rivers abound in falls and rapids, past which 
 the flocks of tree-trunks have to be guided .skilfully. ^lany 
 a time the river-driver's life is in peril as he wades through 
 the turbulent, ice-cold water, or leaps from rock to rock, 
 or from log to log, in his ettbrts to prevent his charges 
 from strandinLi-. 
 
 When the drive is fini.shcd the shantynian's labours arc 
 over, until the return of autumn recalls him to the forest. 
 
 
 Ill 
 
 
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 TBBRSB 
 
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 LACROSSE. 
 
 — ~3'»J»-Ef^<r<-s- 
 
 WHAT the game of cricket is to England, and the 
 game of base -ball to the United States, is the 
 game of lacrosse to Canada ; and yet it is worth noting 
 that botli cricket and base-ball flourish in Canada, which 
 goes to show that the young Canadian seeks for quantity 
 as well as quality in his sport. 
 
 The Indians invented lacrosse, just as they invented the 
 canoe, the snow-shoe, and the toboggan, and it is not 
 likely that their pale-face la'other will be able t(j invent 
 something surpassing any of them. How long ago they 
 invented lacrosse is a question not even Parkman nor 
 Catlin can tell us. The redskins have never had news- 
 pai)ers, and seem to have Iktu poor hands at keeping 
 diaries ; consequently we can never hope to know when 
 
 i 
 
LACROSSE 
 
 271 
 
 first the Iroquois champion team, led by tlio famous chief 
 " Throw-the-ball-half-a-mile," defeated the Cree champions 
 under the no less renowned " Stop-it-with-his-stomach-cvery- 
 time." 
 
 Catlin, wlio saw it played l)y six hundred, eight hundred, 
 or even one thousand Choctaws at a time, tells us that the 
 players would trip and throw each other, and sometimes 
 take Hying leaps over the heads of their stooping opponents, 
 or dart between their extended leu's. " There are times," 
 he adds, " when the ball gets to the ground, when there is 
 a confused mass of sticks, shins, and bloody noses," I may 
 add on my own account that those times are not altogether 
 past and gone. Scratched shins and erimsoned noses are 
 still to be found on the lacrosse-field. 
 
 There is, of course, a gbod ck^al of difference between 
 lacrosse as played by the whites to-day and as it was 
 played by the redskins half a century ago. In the first 
 place, the ground was not a level, smooth- shaven lawn, 
 with a cinder path around it, and beyond that rows of seats 
 for spectators, but a glade in the forest, interspersed with 
 stumps of trees, fallen trunks, and clumps of young spruce. 
 The goals were single poles or stakes, about eight feet high, 
 and the distance between them variecl, in propoi'tion to the 
 number of players, from live hundred ya.ds to half-a-mile, 
 or even more. Then the crt^^se was much sliorter, and 
 smaher as to its netting, while amonu' some tribes no nettino- 
 at all was used, but instead thereof two sticks having 
 spoon-shaped ends, between which the ball was caught and 
 carried. As to the dress of the players — well, the difference 
 
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 WA 
 
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 i?ri 
 
 272 
 
 LACROSSE. 
 
 iM! 
 
 \\ 
 
 m 
 
 hill III 
 
 is not so very great. The white men wear a little more 
 on their backs, and canvas shoes instead of moccasins on 
 their feet, and that is about the sum of the matter. 
 
 I will now try to describe the game as it is played by 
 the Canadian clubs to-day The ground should be a smooth, 
 level field one hundred and fifty yards in length by one 
 hundred in breadth at the very least, and for championship 
 matches another fifty yards each way is most desirable. 
 The goals should be one hundred and twenty-five yards 
 apart, but a lesser distance may be agreed upon between 
 the two captains if the nature of the ground requires it. 
 The side boundaries are formed by the fence or ring of 
 spectators, as the case may be. If the ball goes over the 
 one, or gets tangled up with the other, it has to be brought 
 out and " faced." The nature of " facing " will be explained 
 further on. The goals are simply two poles six feet high 
 and six feet apart, and in front of them, at a lacrosse stick's 
 length from their base, a line is marked with whitewash, 
 inside of which no attacking player must enter unless the 
 ball has preceded him. If he enters in advance of the ball, 
 the goal-keeper may drive him out at the point of his stick, 
 and use any violence necessary for that purpose. 
 
 The side consists of twelve players and a captain. The 
 captain does not play ; he simply runs round and shouts 
 at the other fellows. It looks like an easy job, but it is 
 far ivom being so. Upon the captain very often depends 
 the fate of his team, and he should always be a cool, clear- 
 headed, experienced player, thoroughly up to all the trick.s 
 and subtleties of the game. The lacrosse-sticks, or crosses 
 
LACROSSE. 
 
 !73 
 
 as they nre called, are light, strong sticks, made of either 
 hickory, ash, or I'ock elm ; the Indian preferring the first 
 because of its strength, and the white man the other two 
 because of their lightness. There is no rule as to the 
 length of a stick, but practical experience has shown that 
 the most convenient length is e(|ual to the distance from 
 the toe to the hollow under the arm. Each player can 
 therefore suit himself in the matter. The nettinn; is of s-ut, 
 and should be about twenty-nine inches long, and '\n\iiii 
 not be more than twelve inches wide at its widest part, 
 ]Sine inches is a <2'Ood average width. Theie nuist be no 
 " bag " to the netting, and to guard against this the referee 
 is required to inspect the crosses carefully before allowing 
 the match to begin. The ball is of sponge india-rubber, 
 about half-an-inch less in circumference than a base-ball, 
 and weighing about four ounces. It should bounce freely, 
 as this adds greatly to the uncertainty and interest of the 
 
 game. 
 
 All the preliminaries having l)een satisfactorily arranged, 
 a tine da\', a good ground, and a large gathering of specta- 
 tors secured, we will suppose that a championship match 
 between the representative teams of ]\Iontreal and Toronto 
 is about to take place. At the appointed hour the teams 
 issue from their dressing-rooms amid the cheers of their 
 adherents and line up before the referee and umpires. 
 That is, they face one another in two parallel lines, and 
 tlien the referee proceeds to examine their crosses lest they 
 shc^dd be ■■ bagged," ami their shoes lest they may be 
 sj)iked. He also nddresses a word of warning to them 
 
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 upon tlie subject of rougli piny, wliicli, unhappily, lias be- 
 come far too common of late. He then dismisses them, 
 and they take up tlieir places on the field. When this is 
 done they take their positions in pairs, each man liaving 
 an opponent opposite him. Thus the jVlontreal goal-keeper 
 has the Toronto "inside home" just in front of him; each 
 of the fielders has a man to " cover " him, as the term is, 
 and there is a Toronto " centre " as well as a Montreal 
 centre. 
 
 The game is begun by the two centre fielders. They 
 half kneel opposite each other, and lay their crosses on the 
 ground, face to face, every nerve and muscle tingling with 
 excitement, for much may depend upon which gets the 
 advantage at the start. This is called " facing the ball," 
 and when the referee is satisfied that everything is in 
 readiness, he places the ball between the two crosses, taking 
 care that it is exactly in the middle. At his shout of 
 " Play," the two centres strive, by a sharp, sudden twist of 
 the crosse, each to draw the ball in his own direction. The 
 successful one immediately passes it to the nearest fielder 
 on his own side, who is instantly pounced upon by his 
 *' cover," and then the fun begins in fierce earnest. 
 
 It is quite out of the question to convey through the 
 medium of print any adequate conception of the interest 
 and excitement that a ix^ine of lacrosse between two well- 
 matched teams affords. For brilliancy of individual effort 
 as well as of combined team play, for incessant movement 
 and thrilling situations, for cheer -inspiring displays of 
 undaunted pluck or untiring fleetness, there is no game 
 
las be- 
 theiii, 
 this is 
 having 
 -keeper 
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 LACROSSE. 
 
 275 
 
 that can compare with it. The ball Hies all over the field, 
 now soaring like a bird through the air, now skimniing 
 along the ground like a fi'ightened lield-mouse. First one 
 goal is in danger, and the players crowd so thickly about 
 it that you cannot see the goal-keeper. Then a long throw 
 from his skilful stick sends the rubber away oti' to the side, 
 or perhaps almost down to the other goal, and two dangers 
 are over for the time. Next an artful dodger will catch 
 the ball on his crosse, and turning, twistino-, dod<dng this 
 way and that, dropping the ball when cheeked, only to 
 pick it up again deftly after the checker is eluded, will, 
 amid the shouts and cries of spectators and playci's alike, 
 carry it clear down the whole length of the held, and 
 perhaps, if he bo very lucky, send a " grounder " between 
 the goal-posts ere the goal-keeper has time to recover from 
 the surprise of his onset. 
 
 In the throwing, catching, checking, rumiing, and dodging 
 which the game calls for, every muscle and sinew is given 
 fullest exercise, and every man in the team has a share of 
 the work. There is no " loafing " possible in lacrosse, as 
 there is in base-ball and cricket, when the out-field are 
 getting nothing to do. Even tlic goal-keeper has plenty 
 of hard work, for whenever the l)all iioes behind the rroal- 
 posts he must go after it, and struggle for it until he can 
 send it either to one of his own side or far down the field. 
 Indeed, the ability to play well "behind the flags" is as 
 important a quality in a goal-keeper as an argus-cyed 
 watchfulness over what is going on in front of him. 
 
 While individual brilliancy — " grand-stand play," as it 
 
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 LACROSSE. 
 
 is sometimes called — is all very well in its way, good team- 
 playing is far more effective in the end, and it is just 
 because the whites excel in the latter that they have 
 become more than a match for the redskins, from whom 
 they have adopted the game. One of the prettiest sights 
 imaginable is to see two expert players " tobying " to one 
 another for perhaps half the length of the field before they 
 can be stopped. This tobying consists in their running 
 along ten or fifteen yards apart, and throwing the ball 
 from one to the other so soon as there is danger of the one 
 carrying it being checked. 
 
 Another valuable accomplishment in a lacrosse- player is 
 knov, mg how and when to " uncover " — that is, to stop 
 away from the opponent who has been deputed to cover 
 him, and consequently be free to snatch up the ball the 
 moment it comes his way. When one team understands 
 this better than the other, the result is to convey the im- 
 pression that it must have more players, because there 
 always seem to be two of them at least wherever the 
 rubber is. 
 
 The game is won by the ball being thrown between the 
 goal-posts, not higher than an imaginary line drawn across 
 their tops. It must, of course, be thrown through from in 
 front. Formerly a match was decided by the winning of 
 three games, " best three out of five ; " but in one of the 
 two lacrosse associations now existing in Canada a change 
 has been made, and unless one team wins three games 
 straight, play must be continued for two hours, and then 
 the team having the most games wins the match. The 
 
LACROSSE. 
 
 277 
 
 reason of the change was that in some cases a team would 
 take three games from their opponents in a few minutes, 
 and at this the spectators grumbled. 
 
 The most interesting recent event in the history of the 
 game in Canada is the visit of the famous Toronto twelve 
 to Great Britain. They are a splendid lot of players, and 
 seem to have it all their own way, as might be ex- 
 pected. The fact, however, that there are enough lacrosse 
 clubs in the Old Country to make it worth their while to 
 go over, proves that the game is making progress round 
 the world. Indeed, it has been already heard of from 
 Australia, India, China, and other far-away quarters of the 
 
 globe. 
 
 In the United States it is spreading rapidly, and the 
 time cannot be far distant when we shall have international 
 struggles for supremacy in lacrosse as well contested as we 
 already have in some other sports. Some years ago a team 
 from the United States crossed the Atlantic to contend 
 against their Eritish cousins, and succeeded in winning 
 every match they played but one. 
 
 
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 A PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
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 "The arch-room — teii o'clock toniyht. Brbuj a sheet and 
 
 'pilloW-slip. AltHACADARRA." 
 
 CHARLIE DRAPER gazed at the piece of paper con- 
 taining these simple words and mysterious signature 
 with mingled feeiings of pride and trepidation — pride be- 
 cause it was the first time since his coming to Twin Elm 
 Academy that he had been the recipient of one of these 
 much-prized missives, and trepidation because lie had very 
 vague notions of what his accepting the invitation it bore 
 might entail. 
 
 He was a new boy, just finishing his first month at the 
 academy, and being of rather reserved disposition, had 
 been slow in forming acquaintances. Indeed, but for an 
 incident that suddenly brought him into prominence, ho 
 might have made still poorer progress in this direction than 
 he did. 
 
 A few <lays before this communication from "Abra- 
 cadabra," a party of the boys were bathing in the river 
 near Deep Pool. A youngster who could not swim rashly 
 
A PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
 ventured too near the pool, and disappeared in its darl 
 depths. There arose an immediate chorus of cries from 
 his companions, but no intelligent (effort was being made 
 at rescue, -when Charlie Draper, who had not been of the 
 party, came rushing up, threw off his cap and coat, plunged 
 into the pool, and brought out the drowning boy at the 
 first try. 
 
 Of course he was a hero at once, and the leaders of the 
 " A. & H. O. A. S." — the secret society of the academy, of 
 which Charlie had already hoard much, and admittance to 
 which was the desire of his heart — lost no time in deciding 
 that he was beyond question one of the right sort, and 
 that ho must become one of them forthwith. Hence the 
 short but significant summons whoso contents have been 
 already given. 
 
 Promptly at ten o'clock, Charlie, in his stocking feet, 
 and provided with pillow-slip and sheet, crept cautiously 
 up the long stairs that led to the arch-room. 
 
 All the students, except those who belonged to the 
 society, were already sound asleep, and the two tutors who 
 lived in the building, knowing nothing of this exception, 
 and imagining that eveiy cot was duly occupied, had 
 settled down for a comfortable smoke and chat in the cozy 
 sitting-room of ^Ir. ]jutler, whose (juarters were farthest 
 away from the arch-room. 
 
 Upon all this the members of the society had astutely 
 reckoned, and the coast was accordingly clear for theni to 
 do as they pleased as long as they did not make too much 
 noise about it. 
 
 
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 280 A riLLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
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 Bearing his note of invitation as a passport, Charlie 
 approached the door of the arcli-rooni. Suddenly out of 
 its shadow a masked and draped figure darted, and putting 
 its hand to his throat, inquired in a very husky voice, — 
 
 " What doest thou here ? " 
 
 For answer, Charlie held up his sheet and slip of paper. 
 
 " 'Tis well. Pass on," said the husky mystery. 
 
 And with palpitating heart Charlie tiptoed through the 
 door. 
 
 The moment he passed the portal, two other masked 
 and draped figures seized him by either arm, and hurried 
 him before a fourth figure, who occupied a sort of throne 
 at the far corner of the room. 
 
 " Whom do you bring before me ? " asked this potentate, 
 in the husky tone which seemed to be characteristic of the 
 society. ... 
 
 " Charles Draper, may it please your sublimity," was the 
 reply, accompanied by a reverent obeisance, in which 
 Charlie was directed to join. 
 
 " He hath been well recommended to us. Let him bo 
 put to the tests. If he doth survive them and will take 
 the oaths, he may be admitted into membership." 
 
 Then followed a lot of the usual elaborate nonsense such 
 as boys delight to invent and execute in connection with 
 their secret societies ; and at the end of fifteen minutes 
 or so, Charlie, flushed and excited, but triumphant, was 
 handed a jjown and mask, and informed bv the ficfure on 
 the throne, who.se official title was the same as the signa- 
 ture to the invitation, that he was duly admitted into the 
 
 
A PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES 
 
 281 
 
 membership of the society, whose full name he now learned 
 was The Ancient and Honourable Order of Apple Stealers. 
 
 The next piece of information he received rather stag- 
 gered him. It was that, according to the rules of the 
 society, he must at once justify the confidence its members 
 had reposed in him by proving his prowess as an apple- 
 stealer. 
 
 The August pippins in Squire Ribston's orchard were 
 reported to be ready to drop into one's mouth. Upon the 
 novice, Charles Draper, devolved the perilous duty of secur- 
 ing a generous sample of those juicy golden globes, so that 
 the ancient and honourable order might pronounce judg- 
 ment on their excellence. 
 
 So soon as he understood this, Charlie began to wish he 
 had not been in such a j>urry to join the society. He had 
 been at Twin Elm long enough to learn that old Squire 
 Ribston's dogs were as good in their way as his apples 
 were in theirs, and he did not at all relish the prospect of 
 having an argument with them in their own territory at 
 the dead of night. - 
 
 But he was too stout of heart to back out, or even to 
 show any signs of flinching, as his sublimity proceeded to 
 give him his instructions. 
 
 Each member had brought a sheet with him. These 
 were quickly converted into a rope, which reached from 
 the window of the arch-room to the ground. 
 
 Stuffing the pillow-slip into his pocket, and putting on 
 his shoes, Charlie, amid the whispered commands of his 
 companions — to " Be sure and fill the pillow-slip," " Don't 
 
 l\ \ 
 
 
282 
 
 A PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
 4'.: 
 
 call the dogs bad names," " Give the compliments of the 
 order to the squire if you happen to meet him," and other 
 inspiring injunctions — climbed carefully out of the window, 
 and let himself down hand over hand to the ground. 
 
 Pausing only to kiss his hand circus-fashion to the faces 
 at the window, he hastened off noiselessly over the dew- 
 laden grass in the direction of the squire's orchard. 
 
 He knew his route well enough, and the distance was 
 not quite half-a-mile, so that a few minutes' quick walking- 
 brought him to his destination. 
 
 The Ribston mansion stood well back from the road, and 
 the orchard lay to its rear. 
 
 Charlie therefore thought it well to leave the road be- 
 fore he reached the gate, and to take a slant through i,he 
 fields that brought him up to the orchard fence about fifty 
 yards behind the house. 
 
 Here he crouched down, and listened, with strained ears 
 and throbbing pulses, for the slightest sound that might 
 indicate the proximity of a dog. But not a growl, or bark, 
 or even sniff, broke the clover-scented stillness. 
 
 As it chanced, he had hit upon a particularly favourable 
 night for his enterprise, the good squire being wont to 
 spend his Friday evenings with admirable regularity at 
 Doctor Aconite's, where the genial rector of St. David's 
 and important Judge Surrebutter helped to make up a 
 quartette that could play whist by the hour without so 
 much lis winking. 
 
 For the sake of company on the way home the squire 
 always took his dogs with him, so that until his return, 
 
A PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
 283 
 
 which was never later than eleven o'clock, the Ribston 
 premises were entirely unguarded. 
 
 Encouraged by the perfect silence, Charlie gently got 
 over the fence, and making his way to the August pippin- 
 tree, set diligently to woi'k to fill his pillow-slip. 
 
 T 16 boughs were bending low beneath their weight of 
 juicy fruit, and he had no need to shake them. There 
 were far more apples within easy reach of his hand than 
 he could corry home. 
 
 Five minutes sufficed to fill the pillow-slip, ard then, 
 with a vast sigh of relief, he crawled back over the fence, 
 hastened across the fielc, and came to the fence beside the 
 road. 
 
 Knowing nothing of the squire's whist club, he took it 
 for granted that all danger was practically over, and with- 
 out looking to right or left, he tossed his bag over the 
 fence cind vaulted lightly after it. . 
 
 Hardly had his feet touched the ground than a sharp, 
 suspicious bark came from only a few yards away, and the 
 next moment a collie dog, followed closely by a fox-terrier, 
 bounded toward him, barking fiercely, while looming dimly 
 through the darkness the portly form of their owner could 
 be descried, as he demanded angrily, — 
 
 " Who are you ? and what are you about ? " 
 
 Charlie could have answered both questions easily enough 
 had he chosen to do so. But the time did not seem to 
 him altogether favourable, and instead of a verbal reply 
 he picked up his pillow-slip, threw it over his shoulder, 
 and took to his heels, with the dogs after him in full cry. 
 
 
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 284 
 
 A PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
 
 " Catch him, Grip ; catch him, Oscar ' " shouted the 
 squire to his dogs, as he joined in the chase with all his 
 might. 
 
 Although liardly in condition for a sprinting match, 
 Squire Ribston had been renowned for fleetness of foot in 
 his younger days, and he showed a surprising turn of speed 
 as he dashed down the road after the fleeing boy. 
 
 Now, had Charlie dropped his heavy pillow-slip, he 
 might have distanced his human pursuer easily, and as the 
 dogs seemed to be content with barking, and to have no 
 idea of biting, the irate squire would never have known 
 more about the daring raider of his orchard than his strong 
 suspicion that it was one of those rascally Twin Elm boys. 
 
 But to let go his burden was the last thing Charlie 
 thought of doing. 
 
 To his daring, determined nature only two alternatives 
 presented themselves — escape with his booty or capture 
 red-handed. 
 
 So away he sped, holding tight to the pillow-case, the 
 collie and terrier punctuating his strenuous strides with 
 short, sharp barks. 
 
 After his first furious spurt, the squire's speed rapidly 
 slackened until it became little more than a laboured jog- 
 trot ; and by the time he reached the entrance to the long 
 avenue leading from the main road to the academy, Charlie 
 was under the window and jerking the sheet-rope by way 
 of a signal to the boys to haul him up. 
 
 Unfortunately, they were so occupied with some of their 
 nonsense that they did not at first observe the signal, and 
 
l||l'! 
 
 J PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
 185 
 
 precious moments were lost before 
 they responded, so that Charlie's 
 anxious ears caught the sound of 
 the squire's panting as he toiled 
 gamely along the avenue. 
 
 w 
 
286 
 
 A PILLOW-SUP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
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 " Hurry up, boys ! " lie called, as loudly as he dared ; 
 " the squire's after me ! " 
 
 The boys responded with a sudden jerk that snatched 
 him off the ground, and nearly made him drop the apples. 
 Then up he went more steadily, foot by foot. 
 
 But he was not half-way to the window when the squire, 
 guided by his clever dogs, arrived upon the scene, and in 
 spite of the sen»i-darkness his keen old eyes took in the 
 situation at a glance. 
 
 " Aha, you young scoundrel ! I have you now. Take 
 that!" 
 
 And he hurled his stout oak cane at the ascending boy. 
 The result greatly exceeded his expectations, for the stick, 
 going straight to its mark, gave Charlie such a stinging 
 blow that he involuntarily let go of the weighty pillow- 
 slip, and down it dropped full upon the squire's pate, 
 crushing his tall gray beaver over his eyes and sending 
 \\A\\ headlonij to the jjround. 
 
 It was some moments before he could pick himself up 
 again, and by that time Charlie was safe inside the window. 
 Beside himself with wrath, the squire assailed the front 
 door with furious blows, bringing both the tutors out in 
 startled haste. 
 
 To them, as well as his breathless, disordered condition 
 permitted, he explained himself, and was at once invited 
 to enter, while Mr. Butler went for Professor Rodwell. 
 
 On the professor's arrival all the boys were summoned 
 to appear in the school-room, and presently in they flocked, 
 all but the members of the A. &; H. 0. A. S. (who, by the 
 

 A PILLOWSLIP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
 387 
 
 m''. 
 
 way, had managed to g(;t into tlieir nioht-govvns witli mar- 
 vellous celerity), maiiit'esting their innocence by their un- 
 mistakably startled, sleepy faces. 
 
 " Are all the boys here ? " asked the squire suspiciously, 
 on finding every one arrayed in his night-gown. 
 
 Professor Rodwell counted heads carefully. 
 
 " Yes, squire, all the boys are present," he replied. 
 
 " Humph : " snapped the squire. " A clever trick ; but 
 they can't pull the wool over my eyes in that way." 
 
 An anxious, expectant hush following, Professor Rodwell 
 addressed the boys in grave yet not unkindly tones : — 
 
 " Young gentlemen, it is clear beyond possibility of 
 denial that some of you have been guilty of robbing Squire 
 Ribston's orchard. Now, I dare say, it will not be difficult 
 to trace out the culprits, but I would much prefer that 
 they should acknowledge their wrong-doing of their own 
 accord. I therefore wait to give them the opportunity." 
 
 There was but a moment's pause, and then Charlie 
 Draper, stepping forward, said in a steady voice, looking 
 full at Professor Rodwell, — 
 
 " It was I that took Squire Ribston's apples. Let me 
 bear all the punishment." 
 
 A look of mingled surprise and relief came into the 
 professor's troubled face, and even the squire's anger- 
 wrinkled countenance seemed to take on a softer expression, 
 touched with approval of this frank avowal. 
 
 " Charles Draper, I am very sorry," said Professor Rod- 
 well slowly. " Although you've been but a short time 
 with us. I had thouo-ht better 
 
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 288 
 
 A PILLOW-SLIP FULL OF APPLES, 
 
 Charlie's eyes fell and his lip began to tremble. Ho 
 was already feeling deep regret for his part in the matter, 
 and these gentle words touched him to the heart. 
 
 He was just about to express his contrition and ask for 
 sentence upon himself, when the squire exclaimed, — 
 
 *• Charlie Draper ! is that Charlie Draper ? " 
 
 " It is," replied Professor Rod well, wondering why the 
 squire asked. 
 
 " The same boy that saved my little grandson Hughie 
 from drowning in Deep Pool a week ago ? " 
 
 " Yes, squire, the same boy," replied the professor, now 
 beginning to catch the old gentleman's drift. 
 
 " Then," cried the squire, who was as quick of generous 
 impulse as he was of temper, jumping from his seat and 
 advancing toward Charlie, " I don't want this thing to go 
 any further. — Here's my hand, my brave lad. You're 
 welcome to every apple on the tree, if you'll only come 
 after them in honest, manly fashion, and not be playing 
 such foolish pranks, skulking through the fields when you 
 ought to be abed. — Come, now. Professor Rodwell, let's cry 
 quits. I'm willing to let the matter rest. Boys will be 
 boys, and if your boys will promise never to go out robbing 
 orchards again, I'll promise to let 'em into my orchard on 
 Saturday afternoons and take every apple they find in the 
 grass so long as the crop lasts." 
 
 For a moment the boys were so bewildered by these 
 astounding words that they could hardly credit their ears. 
 
 Then a spontaneous cheer burst from their throats, and 
 the upshot of the whole matter was that they heartily gave 
 
A PILLOW-SUP FULL OF APPLES. 
 
 289 
 
 the promise tlie squire asked ; and the professor, relieved 
 beyond measure at the turn affaii's had taken, dismissed 
 them with the understandinjj that the niirht's doings should 
 be no further inquired into, provided good behaviour was 
 maintained in future. 
 
 The pledge thus given, taking away from the A. & H. 
 O. A. S. its principal reason for existing undcjr that name, 
 did not, however, put an end to its career. It simply 
 altered its title and amended its ways, and continued to 
 flourish as vigorously as before, with Charh.. J)iapcr ns one 
 of its n)0sl p pular and active members. 
 
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 LOST ON LAKE ST. LOUIS. 
 
 THE great river St. Lawrence, as if not content with 
 its ordinary ample breadth, a few miles above the 
 city of Montreal sprends out into a wide sheet of water 
 which is known as Lake St. Louis. Lake St. Louis is 
 about twelve miles long by eight in width at its widest 
 part, and being famous for its cool breezes, the people from 
 the city go out there in throngs every summer, so that its 
 shores are well populated as long as the thermometer keeps 
 well above the seventy point. 
 
 In winter, however, it is V':ry ditierert. Then Jack 
 Frost has a confirmed habit of sending the mercury away 
 down, down, down, not only below freezing-point, but below 
 zero even ; and the blue waters of the lake turn into a 
 floor as hard as steel, over which the snows drift and pile 
 up and scatter again in fantastic windrows, until the warm 
 spring sunshine melts them into soggy slush, and. a little 
 later rends the solid floor itself asunder and sends it career- 
 ing down the current in great jagged ice-floes. 
 
 There is nothing undecided nliout a Canadian winter. 
 The frost-king means business from the start, and for three 
 long months keeps a tight grip upon the land. Some 
 
LOST ON LAKE ST. LOUIS. 
 
 291 
 
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 career- 
 winter, 
 or three 
 Some 
 
 winters, of course, he is more tyrannical than others. The 
 lloss boys, for instance, thought that he had never before 
 in their experience been so unmerciful as during the season 
 that the event happened about which I am now going to 
 tell. Day after day for weeks at a time the thermometer 
 would not get up io the zero mark at all, while it would 
 at night drop as much as thirty points below it. 
 
 " Ton my word, this sort of weather isn't fair at all," 
 said Bob Ross, in an impatient tone, at the breakfast-table 
 one morning. "A fellow can hardly stir out of doors 
 without getting Ids nose or ears nipped. My nose was 
 frost-bitten for the third time last night, and that's a little 
 too much of a good thing for me." 
 
 " Right your are. Bob," chimed in Phil, his elder brother, 
 from across the table. " My poor ears have been nipped 
 nobody knows how often. I expect one of them will drop 
 off some line day," 
 
 " It's a keen winter, boys, no doubt," assented Mr, Ross, 
 ' 1 don't remember many as sharp. But the longest winter 
 has an end, and you'll forget all about the cold the first 
 warm day that comes," 
 
 " That mfiy be, father," answered Bob, " but I'd like a 
 little mil<l weather right now if the weather-clerk has no 
 objections. You know we're going over to the church 
 festival at Beauhainois to-morrow night ; and an eight-mile 
 tramp in this cold weathci- is not just what I'm hankering 
 for — though I mean to go all the same." 
 
 "Tut! my lad, when I was your age I would have 
 thought nothing of double the distance, if only a certain 
 
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 L0S2' ON LAKE ST. LOUIS. 
 
 
 nerson ^ 
 
 verG at the eiul of it" rpnlifirl Mr R( 
 
 ■^SS Wltll fl, 
 
 H 
 
 li i 
 
 :. ( 
 
 iii! 
 
 meaning smile at his wife as he added, " But perhaps j-ou 
 have no such attraction." 
 
 " Not I," laughed Bob. " I'm going for the sake of the 
 supper ; but I won't answer for Phil," looking quizzically 
 at his brother, who blushed violently and made a timely 
 diversion by springing up and saying, — 
 
 " Come along, Bob ; let us get at our work, cold or no cold." 
 
 Whereupon the two lads went off together. 
 
 Mr. Ross owned one of the larfjest and finest amona" the 
 many farms that bordered upon Lake St. Louis. Although 
 he was what might be called a gentleman farmer, he was a 
 thoroughly practical farmer too. He made his farm pay 
 him handsomely, and thought so well of his occupation 
 that he had brought up his two boys to follow it also. 
 When they were grown men he would divide the greater 
 })art of his propertj' between them, reserving only sufficient 
 to keep himself and his v/ife in independent comfort during 
 the remainder of their days. 
 
 The two sons, Phil and Bob, at the time of my story 
 about sixteen and fourteen years of age respectively, were 
 as satisfactory a pair of boys as parents could wish. One, 
 the elder, tall and dark, the other short and fair, both were 
 strong, healthy, hearty lads, full of spirit, and fond enough 
 of having their own way, but thoroughly sound at heart 
 and passionately fond of father and mother. Although 
 trained to all kinds of farm work, their education had not 
 
 elected. 
 
 by any 
 
 means 
 
 They 
 
 of schoolinu', and Mr. Ross never went into the citv without 
 
during 
 
 story 
 were 
 One, 
 1 were 
 mough 
 heart 
 though 
 lad not 
 1 share 
 'ithout 
 
 pn 
 
 LOST ON LAKE ST. LOUIS. 
 
 293 
 
 bringing back a new book or the latest magazine, so that 
 they niiglit keep up with the spirit of the times. 
 
 The church festival Bob spoke of was to take place the 
 following evening at Beanharnois, a village that stood 
 straight across the lake " as the crow Hies " a distance of 
 about eight miles. The snow was in capital condition for 
 snow-shoeing, and the two sturdy boys thought nothing of 
 the tramp there and back. They would start from home 
 at four in the afternoon, make Boauharnois about six, enjoy 
 themselves there to the best of their ability until ten, and 
 then set off for home, where they ought to turn up soon 
 after midnight. 
 
 Much to their gi-atification, the cold next morning showed 
 si^rns of moderating. 
 
 " Looks as if the weather-clerk was interested in the 
 festival," remarked Phil in the course of the morning, his 
 beaming face revealing clearly enough that others than the 
 weather-clerk were interested in the same event. 
 
 " I'm glad it isn't quite so keen as yesterday," nnswered 
 Bob. " A fellow will enjoy the sprea ^ all the better for 
 not going to it with his nose frozen." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder if we had a regular change," said 
 Mr. Ross, casting a searching glance at the sky, wJiich was 
 evidently losing its sharp blue tinge and becoming ashen 
 gray in colour. " We often do have a soft spell about 
 this time of the year. There'll most likely be snow soon. 
 I hope it won't begin before you get home, boys." 
 
 " Oh, I think not," replied Phil confidently. " It can't 
 come much sooner than the morninsf." 
 
 i ,i 
 
 •»• 
 
I 
 
 J94 
 
 LOST ON LAKE ST. LOUIS. 
 
 The hours of the day slipped quickly by, and sharp at 
 four o'clock the two boys set forth on their long tramp. 
 They certainly were a prepossessing pair in their white 
 blanket-coats, that became them so well, tied with broad 
 scarlet sashes, and blue caps with scarlet tassels on their 
 heads. Bidding good-bye to their parents, who stood at 
 the door watching them with fond pride, Phil and Bob 
 strode swiftly down the slope to the lake, and soon were 
 tramping over its broad bosom, upon which the snow lay 
 deep in undulating Avaves. Barring the leaden hue of the 
 sky, the afternoon could hardly have been finer. The 
 stinjfinij cold was ijone, vet the air was kee.i enouQ-h to be 
 bracing. There was little or no wind. The snow was 
 well packed ; and, full of joyful expectations, the brothers 
 walked on side bv side, their broad snow-shoes bcarino; 
 them easily upon the very surface of the drifts. Eight 
 miles in two hours was no remarkable performance for two 
 such expert snow-shoers as they, and the}'' accomplished it 
 without difficulty, reaching their destination just as the bell 
 in the tower of the church boomed out six solemn strokes. 
 
 Leaving their coats and snow-shoes at a friend's house, 
 they hastened to the place where the festival was in full 
 swing, and entered heartily into the enjoyments, each 
 following his own bent. The expectations of both were 
 fully satisfied. The supper presented more dainties on its 
 generous bill of fare than even the capacious appetite of 
 Bob could comfortably sample, and Phil was not dis- 
 appointed in the light that shone from a certain pair of 
 brown ej-es that for some mysterious reason had more 
 
LOST ON LAKE ST. LOULS. 
 
 295 
 
 attraction for him than anything else the entertainment 
 offered. 
 
 Ten o'clock came all too soon for him, especially as the 
 festival was not entirely over, although some of those who 
 lived at a distance had already left ; but Bob was rather 
 glad, as the last hour had been somewhat slow, from his 
 point of view. So siding up to Phil, he whispered dis- 
 creetly in his ear, — 
 
 " Time to go, Phil ; it's 'most ten o'clock." 
 
 Phil pulled out his watch with an incredulous look ; but, 
 alas ! it told the same story as Bob, and dearly as he 
 would have liked to linger, he knew well enough that the 
 sooner they started now the better. So, with a very 
 regretful adieu to the one whose presence had " made the 
 assembly shine," he joined his brother at the door. 
 
 When they got outside, the look of the night and the 
 feel of the air told them that the snow was nearer at hand 
 than they had expected. In fact, a few soft, sly flakes 
 were already dropping noiselessly. The friend at whose 
 house they had left their coats and snow-shoes suggested 
 their staying all night ; but although Bob was nothing- 
 loath, Phil would not be persuaded. 
 
 "Father said he'd wait up for us," he oV)ject<'(l, "and 
 he'll get anxious if we're not home by twelve o'clock. — 
 Come along, Bob." 
 
 Accordingly, off' thev went into the darkness of the 
 night. When they reached the shore of the lake, they 
 could just see the glimmer of the village lights liy Mhich 
 they were to be guided — their home lying about half-a-mile 
 
 ' 
 
 
 it 
 
296 
 
 LOST ON LAKE ST. LOUIS. 
 
 '{ ; 
 
 to the loft. Although their pace was fai from a loitering" 
 one, they did not get over the snow by any means so fast 
 as in the afternoon. 
 
 Bob was not only tired and sleepy, but provoked with 
 Phil for refusing to stay all night at their friend's house. 
 Indeed, he hoped his brother would yet repent and return, 
 and so his feet dragged not a little. Noticing this, Phil 
 said briskly, — 
 
 " Step out, Bob ; we'll have all we can do to get across 
 before the snow comes." 
 
 " All well enough to say ' stop out,' " answered Bob 
 gruffly. " Why couldn't you stay overnight ? I'm tvjo 
 tired to walk fast anyhow, snow or no snow." 
 
 " Oh, you're not tired. Bob. You've eaten a little too 
 much supper, that's all," rejoined Phil pleasantly. 
 
 Bob vouchsafed no answer, and for some time the 
 brothers tramped along in silence. As they neared the 
 centre of the lake, the snow-flakes, which had at first been 
 few and far between, thickened rapidly, and the wind at 
 the same time rose into gusts that blew them sharply into 
 the boys' faces. 
 
 A thrill of alarm shot threw Phil, and grasping Bob's 
 arm he called out, — 
 
 " It looks nasty, Bob ; let's put on a spurt." 
 
 At this appeal Bob roused himself ; and quickening 
 their pace to a trot, they hastened onward, their snow-shoes 
 rising and falling in steady, unbroken step. Every minute 
 the snow and wind increased, until at lensfth the storm in 
 full force burst upon the boys and almost blew them ofl' 
 
LOST ON LAKE ST. LOULS. 
 
 297 
 
 their feet. All around them the air was filled with flakes 
 of white whirling about in bewildering myriads, splashing 
 like fine spray into their faces and stinging like small shot, 
 for the wind was bitterly cold. Presently Phil halted, and, 
 peering hard into the blinding storm, cried anxiously, — 
 
 " What's become of the lights, Bob ? I can't see them a 
 bit ; can you ? " 
 
 " N-n-no," panted Bob. ' Let's turn back." 
 
 'the forms of the two bovs were exposed to view." 
 
 " No use in that," replied Phil, turning 
 round. " T can't see those behind ns 
 either. There's nothing for it but to push ahead." 
 
 " Phil ! are we lost ? " asked Bob, with quivering lips. 
 
 Phil was more than half afraid they were ; but to re- 
 assure Bob he answered cheerfully, — 
 
 " It's all rio-ht. I know how to steer. Come along:." 
 And grasping Bob's hand he started off again. 
 
 L 
 
 n 
 
IM 
 
 298 
 
 LOST ON LAKE ST. LOULS. 
 
 ' ,M 
 
 On and on they plodded through storm and snow, Phil 
 half dragging Bob, who, between fright and real weariness, 
 found difficulty in making progress at all. For half-an- 
 hour more they struggled thus, until at last Bob dropped 
 his brother's hand and flung himself down in the snow, 
 sobbing out despairingly, — 
 
 " It's no use, Phil, I'm dead beat ; you'll have to go on 
 without me." 
 
 " Nonsense, Bob," said Phil, taking him by the shoulder. 
 " Jump up and go at it again." 
 
 Thus helped to his feet. Bob made another attempt, but 
 had not gone more than a quarter of a mile in a way that 
 was staggering rather than walking before down he slipped 
 again ; and this time all that Phil could do failed to rouse 
 him from his stupor. The cold and exhaustion had com- 
 pletely overcome him. He had but one thought, and that 
 was — to be allowed to sleep. Phil fully realized the 
 danger, and, tired as he was himself, put forth every 
 exertion to keep his brother awake. He even tried to 
 drag him along by his sash in what he thought was the 
 right direction, but of course soon found this impossible. 
 
 Desert his brother he would not, though they died to- 
 gether ; so, in order to keep himself from falling into the 
 same state, he made a circle around him, walking slowly. 
 While doing iius he encountered a high drift whose lee 
 afforded some shelter from the blast. An idea flashed into 
 his mind which he instantly proceeded to execute. 
 
 Returning to Bob he dragged him with infinite difficulty 
 to this spot. Then slipping off one of his snow-shoes, he 
 
LOST ON LAKE ST. LOULS. 
 
 299 
 
 proceeded to cover his body with snow, leavinjif nothing 
 but his head exposed ; the poor boy, now fast asleep, offer- 
 ing no objection to such strange bedclothes. Then sitting 
 down beside him, with the big drift protecting his back, 
 he let the snow gather over himself, hoping he hardly 
 knew for what, and praying for the Lord who sent the 
 snow-storm to have mercy on them both. 
 
 In a vague way — for the stupor was fast creeping upon 
 him too — he wondered if his father had begun to miss them 
 yet, and whether he would come out in search of them. 
 He even dimly pictured his father sitting in the parlour at 
 home reading his book, and pausing every now and then 
 to listen for his boys' voices. His mother, he knew, would 
 have gone to bed long ago. He felt relieved that the snow 
 no longer stung his face, and that the wind had gone down 
 completely, and so his thoughts wandered on until he knew 
 no more. 
 
 One hour, two hours passed, and the drifting snow had 
 hidden the forms of the two boys from sight, when a long 
 line of men misfht have been seen coming from the village 
 and scanning carefully every mound and swell of the snow 
 as they hastened onward. In advance of the rest strode 
 Mr. Ross, his face full of grave anxiety, his eyes intent 
 upon the white plain before him that seemed to have so 
 little to tell. Now bounding on ahead and now returning 
 to look up in his face with inquiring eyes was his wise old 
 collie, Oscar, without whom he never went abroad. 
 
 " Find them, Oscar, find them, good dog," would Mr. Ross 
 
 I 
 
 ( I 
 
 t 
 
 Ml 
 
 i Is! 
 
 i m 
 
rrr 
 
 :i 
 
 
 I 
 
 : '^ 
 
 
 300 
 
 LOST ON LAKE ST. LOUIS. 
 
 say encouragingly, and the sagacious animal would dart on 
 again. Presently he stopped beside a drift now grown to 
 huge proportions, sniffed sharply at the snow, and then 
 proceeded to dig into it with eager, vigorous paws. 
 Observing his action, Mr. Ross uttered a cry of joy and 
 sprang forward to the dog's side. Going down on his 
 knees he tore at the snow-bi.nk in a frenzy of haste. In 
 another moment a red tassel appeared, then a blue cap, 
 then a white, still face, and, others coming to his aid, the 
 forms of the two boys were exposed to view, Phil still 
 sitting up with his head bent over his knees, and Bob lying 
 comfortably beside him. That they were both alive was 
 clear enough, for they were breathing — very faintly, to be 
 sure, but undoubtedly breathing. 
 
 Mr. Ross caught up one after another in a passionate 
 embrace. Then litters were quickly improvised out of 
 blanket-coats stripped from willing backs, and soon the 
 unconscious boys were speeding homeward as fast as 
 stahvart arms could bear them. 
 
 The rest of the story is quickly told. Thanks to the 
 sturdy frames and perfect constitutions, the brothers were 
 only temporarily the worse for their experience. They 
 both were frost-bitten, of course, Bob's poor nose and 
 Phil's feet coming in for the worst of it ; but a few weeks' 
 good nursing cured everything, and no scars remained to 
 remind them, had they ever been likely to forget it, of the 
 night they were lost. 
 
ICE-SKATING IN CANADA. 
 
 — »>j»^Jfe«r«'«— 
 
 If 
 
 »g 
 
 the 
 
 as 
 
 IT is a glorious winter afternoon, and having left the 
 smoke and din and dust of the city far behind, we 
 are standinrj together at the foot of the first of the Dart- 
 mouth lakes. Straight before us, and spreading far out 
 on either hand, lies a glistening expanse, whose polished 
 surface flashes back the cheerful sunshine. Three un- 
 broken miles in length, and more than one in width, this 
 icy plain awaits us in its virgin purity. It were strange, 
 then, did not our fingers tremble with impatience and our 
 acmes snap with feverish haste. They are on at last, and 
 now for the supremest luxury of motion. The crisp, cool 
 air is charged with electricity ; every answering nerve 
 tingles delightfully, and the blood leaps responsively 
 through the throbbing pulses. Once out upon the ringing 
 ice, and we seem to have passed from the realm of solid 
 flesh and blood to that of "tricksy, dainty Ariel." We 
 have broken loose from the bonds of gravitation and as 
 with favouring wind we speed away to the farther shore, 
 every stroke of our steel-shod feet counting good for a 
 (juartette of yards, the toiling and moiling of the work-a- 
 
 f '1 
 
 n 
 
 i 
 
 J 
 ,'•! 
 
I! 
 
 m. 
 
 302 
 
 ICE-SKATrXG IX CIXADA. 
 
 day world .suoni to have found at the margin of the lake 
 a nuigie barrier beyond which they may not follow us, 
 and with spirits light and free we glide oft' into a new 
 sphere where care and labour are unknown. Mile after 
 mile flashes past, yet our muscles weary not, nor does the 
 breath grow short. But v.diat is this I Is our flight 
 already ended ; and must we turn back so soon ? The tir- 
 clad shores, which were a little while ago so far apart, 
 have drawn together, until they seem to meet not far 
 ahead, and put a bar to further progress. A cunning 
 turn, a short, quick dash over the dangerous spot, where 
 the current runs swiftly and the ice bends ominously, and, 
 behold ! we are out again upon a second lake, still larger 
 than tlie first, and dotted here and there with tiny ever- 
 green islets that look like emeralds in a silver setting. 
 For three miles more our way lies before us smooth and 
 clear ; and then at last, as having reached the limit of our 
 enterprise we throw ourselves upon a fallen tree, to rest 
 our now tired limbs and catch our diminished breath, I 
 ask which, of wheelman, horseman, yachtsman, sculler, or 
 skater, enjoys the finest exercise ? 
 
 No country in the world presents better facilities for 
 indulgence in the luxury of skating than Canada. Holland 
 may with propriety boast of her smooth canals, Norway 
 of her romantic fiords, Scotland of her poetic lochs ; but 
 for variety of lake, river, canal, pond, and frozen sea, from 
 the majestic St. Lawrence to the humblest stream that 
 afibrds delight to the village red-cheeked lads and lasses, 
 Canada is unsurpassed. It is no wonder, then, that the 
 
ICE-SKATING IN CANADA. 
 
 303 
 
 Canadians are a nation of skaters, and that the skating- 
 rinks sliould be as indispcnsahle an adjunct to every city, 
 town, and village as the church and the concert-hall. 
 With a season extending- over four and often iivc months, 
 the managers of rinks can count upon receiving profit- 
 able returns upon their capital , and so those institutions 
 multiply. 
 
 Owing to the great quantity of snow which every 
 winter brings. ^ • season for outdoor skating in Canada 
 is very short, consisting usually of the middle weeks of 
 December, when Jack Frost, by thoughtfully anticipating 
 the snow, allows of a fortnight's skating in the open air 
 before the mantle of winter hides his liandiwork from 
 sight and use. As a natural consequence, Canadians are 
 not remarkable for long-distance skating; and two winters 
 ago the swiftest fliers of our land had to lower their 
 banner before Mr. Axel Paulsen, the renowned Norwegian 
 skater, who made a triumphant tour through Canada 
 and the United States. 
 
 On the other hand, the long season enjoyed by the rinks 
 enables all who will take the trouble, and do not shrink 
 from a novitiate of bumps and bruises, to become exceed- 
 ingly expert at fancy skating ; and it is liardly debatable 
 that the rinks of Toronto, Montreal, Halifax, and St. John 
 can send forth skaters who, for grace, precision, and 
 intricacy of movement, would find no superiors in the 
 W'Orld. When Mr. Paulsen attempted to teach the 
 Canadians fancy skating, he was somewhat chagrined to 
 find himself soon i-educed to the position of learner. As 
 
 \ ■ 
 
 ti ; 
 
I 
 
 il 
 
 if 
 
 ^ 
 
 304 
 
 ICE-SKATING IN CANADA. 
 
 an ice-acrobat he did indeed perform one or two feats that 
 were novel, but they had only to be seen to be immediately 
 copied ; while some of the Canadians were able to open 
 his eyes to possibilities of " didoes " which he thought it 
 not best to hurriedly attempt. His visit was of permanent 
 value, however, because it awakened a deeper interest in 
 long-distance skating ; and one may safely venture to 
 prophesy that, should Mr. Paulsen come this way again, 
 he will find the defeat of his whilom opponents at long 
 disoances not quite such a holiday task as on the occasion 
 of his last visit. 
 
 What is known in England as " tiiijure-skating," and 
 there very ardently indulged in by well-to-do members of 
 the various cli'bs, who can afford to acqu -e the art in 
 Norway or Scotland, is but little practised in Canada. It 
 is not suitable for rinks, as it requires so much room, and 
 can only be done to advantage in large, open spaces, which 
 the " figurists " may have all to themselves. 
 
 Figure-skatii.g is undoubtedly very effect! v^e and strik- 
 ing when executed by a band of well-disciplined skaters 
 who thoroughly understand one another. But it is so 
 elaborate, and takes so much time both in preparation and 
 performance, that it is not suited to the latitude of a 
 colony where the majority of those who skate havo no 
 surplus leisure, and want to make the most of the time 
 at their disposal for recreation. 
 
 There is one phase of figure-skating, however, which 
 does flourish throughout Canada — to wit, dancing ; and it 
 would delight the heart of Terpsichore herself to watch a 
 
 ;i: r; 
 
fl 
 
 of a 
 lavo no 
 le time 
 
 which 
 
 and it 
 
 ivatch a 
 
 ICE-SKATING IX CANADA. 
 
 305 
 
 well-skilled quartette of couples gliding through the mazes 
 of the lancers or quadrille, or sweeping round in airy 
 circles to the music of the waltz. The evolutions differ 
 somewhat, of course, from the steps taken on the floor, but 
 the identity of the dance is far from being lost, and the 
 pleasure of the dancer is greatly enhanced tlirough the 
 surpassing ease of motion. This dancing on the ice may 
 be seen in its perfection at Halifax, the capital of Nova 
 Scotia, which, being a garrison city, enjoys the unique 
 privilege of military bands ; and the officers as a rule 
 becoming enthusiastic skaters, the ladies who grace the 
 fashionable rink by their presence have a grand time of 
 it gliding entrancingly about to the bewitching strains of 
 delightful music, and bringing all the artillery of their 
 thrilling eyes, tempting cheeks, and enslaving lips to bear 
 upon the gallant sons of Mars, who oftentimes find the 
 slippery floor more fatal than the tented field. 
 
 The finest rinks in Canada are those in Montreal, 
 Halifax, and St. John. The rink at Halifax is really the 
 Crystal Palace of the exhibition grounds, and for size, 
 appearance, and convenience is surpassed by none. One 
 (jf the most cheerful sights imaginable is this vast build- 
 ing on band-night, when the snow-white arena is almost 
 hidden beneath a throng of happy skaters, youths and 
 maidens, circling round hand in hand — the maiden glow- 
 ing with pride at her admirer's dexterity, the youth 
 enraptured by his charmer's roseate winsomeness. Here 
 doth Cupid bid defiance to the chilling blasts of winter, 
 
 and although the poets and painters have conspired to 
 (004) 20 
 
 if 
 
Prt^ 
 
 306 
 
 ICE-SKATING IN CANADA. 
 
 confine hiui to a gar!) appropriate to the dog-days, the 
 sly wielder of the fatal bow must in winter enwrap him- 
 self in furry garments, and like a tiny Santa Claus perch 
 his chubby form unseen among the rafters, and from that 
 coigne of vantage let fly his shafts thick and fast into the 
 merry company beneath. 
 
 One of the chief attractions of skating for the ambitious 
 disciple is that there is practically no limit to its pos- 
 sibilities in the way of invention and combination. It 
 would be extremely difficult to prepare for any skating 
 tournament a hard-and-fast programme which would meet 
 every requirement. Hence in competitions of this kind 
 the custom is to lay down some twenty or thirty of the 
 best-known feats which every competitor is supposed to 
 do, and then leave each contestant to superadd thereto 
 such marvels of skill as he may have picked up or 
 invented. At the same time, of course, there may be 
 almost as many degrees of skill represented in the execu- 
 tion of the set programme as there are competitors, and the 
 judges must take this fully into consideration when making 
 their award, and not allow their judgment to be dazzled 
 by some particularly striking " extra." Skating tourna- 
 ments, however, are not as frequent as they ought to be. 
 While every other recognized sport has its regularly re- 
 curring trials of proficiency, skating has hitherto been 
 inexplicably neglected. Surely nothing could be more 
 interesting or attractive than a gatlicring of accomplished 
 skaters of both sexes vying with one another in the ease 
 and grace with which they can illustrate the intricacies of 
 

 ICE-SKATING IN CANADA. 
 
 307 
 
 the " grape-vine," the difficulty of the " giant swing," or 
 the rapidity of the " locomotive." Trials of speed are 
 common enough at all rinks, and are undoubtedly more 
 popular and exciting than trials of skill, but the more 
 refined and less demoralizing competition should not be 
 entirely neglected. 
 
 The speed attained by those who race in rinks, it need 
 hardly be explained, affords no criterion M^hatever whereby 
 to judge of what fast skaters are competent to accomplish. 
 The incessant turns, the sharp corners, the confined area, 
 all tend to materially reduce the rate of progression ; and 
 only out on some broad lake or long-extending reach of 
 river can the skater do his best. I have no records at 
 hand as I write, but my own experience justifies me in 
 venturing the assertion that a champion skater in perfect 
 form, and propei'ly equipped with long-bladed racing 
 
 skates, would prove no mean antagonist for Maud S 
 
 herself over a measured mile, while at longer distances he 
 would have the field to himself. 
 
 Like all other amusements, skating in Canada waxes 
 and wanes in popular estimation, according to the mysteri- 
 ous laws of hunjan iinpulso. One winter skating will be 
 voted " not the thing," and the rinks will be deserted ; the 
 next, they will be crowded, and even the heads of families 
 will be fishing out their rusty " acmes " from the lumber- 
 closet, and renewing their youth in the icy arena. As 
 a means of exercise during the long, weaiy months of 
 winter, when the deep snow renders walking a toil devoid 
 of pleasure, and the muscles are aching for employment, 
 
 i':^ 
 
 i!i 
 
 > ;! \i 
 
 I 
 
W T 
 
 ii 
 
 ■J. I 
 
 :■■■! 
 
 " 
 
 'i! 
 
 m- 
 
 1 1 
 
 ■i !. 
 
 Ill 
 
 308 
 
 ICE-SKATING IN CANADA, 
 
 the skating-rink is an unspeakable boon, especially to him 
 whose lot it is to endure much " dry drudgery at the desk's 
 dead wood." An hour's brisk spinning around will clear 
 the befogged brain, brace up the lax frame, and give a 
 keenness to the appetite that nothing else could do. Then 
 the rink has its social as well as its sanitary advantages. 
 During the winter months it affords both sexes a pleasant 
 and convenient rendezvous, where, unhampered by the 
 conventionalities of the ball-room, and aided by the cheer- 
 ful inspiration of the exercise, they can enjoy one another's 
 society with a frequency otherwise unattainable. On 
 band-days, indeed, the rink becomes converted into a 
 spacious 8alle tVassembUe, where the numbered programme 
 of musical selections enables Corydon to make engage- 
 ments in advance with Phyllis, and thus insure the 
 prosperous prosecution of his suit. 
 
 A carnival on ice — and every rink has one or more 
 during the season — affords a rarely interesting and 
 brilliant spectacle. For these occasions the building dons 
 its gala dress, the gaunt rafters are hung with banners, 
 the walls are hidden beneath variegated bunting and 
 festooned with spruce embroidery, lights gleam brightly 
 from every nook and corner, and the ice is prepared with 
 special care. Then, as the motley crowd glides swiftly by, 
 one may behold representatives of every clime and nation 
 mingling together in perfect amity. It is true the tawny 
 Spaniard, the dark-eyed Italian, the impassive Turk, the 
 appalling Zulu, the soft and silent Hindu, and others 
 whose home lies beneath the southern skies, betray a 
 
■ 
 
 ICE-SKATING IN CANADA. 
 
 309 
 
 the 
 
 familiarity with the ice which seeiu.s to caist some doubt 
 upon its genuineness. 
 
 But when his Satanic Majesty himself, with barbed tail 
 and cloven hoof, confesses to an intimacy with the mazy 
 evolutions of the " Philadelphia grape-vine," the incongru- 
 ity attaching to visitors from cooler climes appears less 
 striking, and they may go on their way unchallenged. 
 Sometimes masks are de rigueur at these carnivals, and 
 then the inevitable clown and harlequin have unlimited 
 license, till even Quakers and friars, infected by their bad 
 example, vie with them in mad pranks, and the fun soon 
 waxes furious. Masked or unmasked, the carnival skaters 
 have a joyous time, and the hours steal away with cruel 
 haste. 
 
 Such are some of the phases of ice-skating in Canada. 
 If this article has seemed to be devoted principally to indoor 
 skating, it is because that can be pursued through so much 
 greater a portion of the winter than the outdoor kind. 
 Skating in its perfection is of course only to be had in the 
 open air, and my most delightful recollections are associated 
 with the Dartmouth lakes, of happy memory. Connected 
 with the same lakes, however, there is a recollection too 
 thrilling to be delightful, and which, in view of what 
 might have been, brings a shudder even now while I 
 rehearse it. 
 
 It happened in my college days. I had been skating 
 all the afternoon, and, as the dusk grew on apace, found 
 myself away down at the head of the second lake, full six 
 miles from the point where I had got on the ice ; so, 
 
' 
 
 ^ », 
 
 310 
 
 ICE-SKATING IN CANADA. 
 
 girtling- up my loins, I set my face towards home, and 
 struck out lustily. After going about one hundred yards, 
 I thought I heard the sound of my name come faintly 
 to me over the ice. 
 
 Wheeling sharply about I saw nothing, except a dark 
 form sonre distance awav, wliich through the <iatherinu' 
 gloom resembled a log or tree-branch ; and I was just about 
 to start off again, when once more my name was called, 
 this time so clearly as to leave no chance for doubt, the 
 sound evidently coming from the seeming log. Hastening 
 over to it with all speed, I was startled to find the pro- 
 fessor of classics at my college — who did not allow the loss 
 of an arm to debar him from the pleasure of skating — 
 lying on the ice, with his left leg broken sliarp and clear 
 a few inches above the ankle, the result of a sudden and 
 heavy fall. Here, indeed, was a trying situation for a mere 
 lad to cope with. We were alone in a wilderness of ice, 
 and six miles away from the nearest house. The shadows 
 of niffht were fast closino- around us. Those six miles had 
 to be D'otten over in some way, and there was not a 
 moment to be lost. Hurrvinn' to the shore I cut down a 
 small spruce tree. Upon this the helpless sufferer was 
 laid as gently as possible, and bound to it with straps. 
 TV ji upon this rude aml)ulance I slowly dragged him 
 .!. . V the lake, while he, with splendid self-control, instead 
 •'7 u j' inuring at his terrible agony, charmed away my 
 vxcurn ss by his unconquerable heroism. It was a toil- 
 some task, but help came when we reached the first lake, 
 and once the shore was gained, a long express waggon filled 
 
Jg 
 
 ICE-SKATING IN CANADA, 
 
 31T 
 
 with inattresses made the homeward journey comparatively 
 painless. "All is well that ends well." The broken 
 leg soon mended, and the following winter found the 
 professor skating as briskly as ever. 
 
 Yet I cannot help wondering sometimes with a shudder 
 how it would have fared with the interpreter of Greece 
 and Rome had not that first faint call reached my ears. A 
 bitter cold night, a wide expanse of polislied ice, a solitary 
 man lying prone upon it with one arm missing at the 
 shoulder, and one leg broken at the ankle — it were little 
 less than a miracle if ice-skating in Canada had not been 
 clouded by one more catastrophe that winter night. 
 
r-n 
 
 
 mv J- 
 ,1 i . 
 
 THE WILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA. 
 
 — ^>^-:>5if^«-*-R— 
 
 ■: i 
 
 -1 
 
 i. 
 
 h; 
 
 mH 
 
 OLD Donald M'Tavish was a wonderfully interesting 
 character. In the service of the Hudson Bay 
 Company, which for nearly two hundred years held regal 
 sway over the vast unknown north-west of Canada, he had 
 spent half a century of arduous and exciting service, living 
 far away from civilization, one of a mere handful of white 
 men in the midst of a wilderness sparsely inhabited by the 
 Indian and the half-breed, but abounding in deer, buffaloes, 
 bears, wolves, and the smaller wild animals. 
 
 He had risen rapidly in the service, for he was a fearless, 
 stanch, trustworthy man, and for the latter half of two 
 terms had filled the important post of chief factor at 
 different forts ; for it was his somewhat undesirable if 
 honourable lot to be sent to those stations that gave the 
 most trouble and the least returns to the company. Such 
 was his reputation for shrewdness, courage, and fidelity, 
 that it was felt by the authorities that no other man 
 could so soon set matters straight as Donald M'Tavish. 
 
 Having filled out his fifty years with entire satisfaction 
 to his employers and no small credit to himself, he had 
 
THE WILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA. 
 
 313 
 
 retired on his laurels to spend a hale and hearty old age, 
 in the enjoyment of the comfortable pension awarded him 
 by the company which he had served so well. 
 
 It was the delight of his declining days to recount for 
 the benefit of younger ears the many thrilling incidents of 
 his adventurous career, and one of his favourite stories 
 was that which I shall now attempt to tell, as nearly as 
 possible in liis own. words. 
 
 " It was early in the Fifties, when I had charge of old 
 Fort Assiniboine, away out on the Athabasca River, not far 
 from the Rockies. Sir George Simpson, the governor of 
 'he colony at Red River, like the thoughtful man he was, 
 had sent out to me by the spring brigade a splendid Scotch 
 stag-hound, one of half-a-dozen he had just brought with 
 him from the dear old land. 
 
 " O man, but he was a dog ! His back was on a level 
 with my belt, and when he raised lumself on his hind legs 
 he could put his fore paws on my shoulders and rub noses 
 with me ; yet I stood a good six feet in my stockings in 
 those days. 
 
 " His hair was as grizzled as old Ephraim's, and coarse, 
 and curled like what they stuff beds with. His body was 
 long and lean, and so was his head, but he had a noble {:^yQ ; 
 and then the way he could run, and leap over everything 
 that came in his path, it was a sight to see, I warrant you. 
 
 " We soon got very nuich attached to each other, and 
 wherever I went Bruce went too. He did not seem to 
 take to any one else, and I was just as well pleased that 
 he did not, for I never wanted him out of my sight, 
 
 \l 
 
 
F ^ V 
 
 314 
 
 T//£ WILD DOGS OF ATJ/ABASCA 
 
 \' > 
 
 \\ 
 
 Ui 
 
 ■M 
 
 " Tliat same summer a new liaiid was sent to the iort. 
 He was an Englishman, who gave his iiamn as Hcatlicotc, 
 and lie brought with liim a pure white female bv ^l-dog that 
 M'as one of the most dangerous-looking brutes I ever laid 
 eyes on. She minded nobody but her master, of whom, to 
 do her credit, she seemed fond enoii'di. 
 
 " I never much cared for that breed of dog, but I must 
 say \'ixen was about perfect in her way. As to good- 
 breeding, there certainly wasn't much to choose between 
 her and Bruce. 
 
 " I was a little uneasy as to how the two dogs would 
 get on, and at first it did look as if there might be trouble, 
 for Bruce, wdio utterly despised the rabble of curs hanging 
 about the fort, evidently felt disposed to resent the coming 
 of this possible rival ; but almost before I knew it, the 
 two were the best of friends, and would eat their dinner 
 side by side like two well-behaved children. 
 
 " After a while they took to going out a-hunting to- 
 gether, and grand times they had. They would work- 
 along in company until a herd of deer was started, and 
 then Bruce would make for the fattest doe, his tremendous 
 speed soon bringing him to her throat ; while Vixen, follow- 
 ing at her best rate, w-ould come up just in time to help 
 him to finish her, and then they would have a line feast. 
 
 " Once the dogs got into these ways neither Heath coto 
 nor I had much more satisfaction out of them. They were 
 never on hand when wanted. They kept growing wilder 
 and wilder, and finally, toward autumn, they disappeared 
 one day, and were never seen at the fort again. 
 
3 fort, 
 tlicote, 
 )<•■ that 
 }i' laid 
 loin, to 
 
 f must 
 » oood- 
 ictwecn 
 
 i would 
 
 trouble, 
 
 langing 
 
 couiing 
 
 it, the 
 
 dinner 
 
 ■iiig to- 
 work 
 ed, and 
 lendous 
 follow - 
 to help 
 feast, 
 athcote 
 ey w^ere 
 
 ■^ wilder 
 ippeared 
 
 T//E WILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA. 
 
 315 
 
 
 " We lumted for tlieni high and low, sending out the 
 half-breeds as far as Lake La (Jrosse on the east, and to 
 the fuot-hills of the Rockies on the west, but not a sign or 
 trace could we find of them. When winter came and they 
 did not return, we gave them up as lost, thinking that 
 something nuist havi! happened to them on one of tlieir 
 hunting forays, or that perchance they had been killed by 
 tlie Indians, 
 
 " Two years went by, and Bruce and Vixen were almost 
 forgotten, when stories began to reach the fort of a strange 
 and fierce kind of wild do^u" that was beinu" seen now auvl 
 then by hunters and trappers in the out-of-the-way valleys 
 and ravines of the foot-hills. 
 
 " It was not an easy job to get at the bottom of these 
 stories, for they passed from mouth to mouth before reach- 
 ing us ; but at last a trapper turned up wlio had seen a 
 pack of tlic dogs himself, and after hearing his description 
 I had no longer any doubt but that these wild dogs which 
 were making such a stir were the ofispring of o\n' two 
 former pets which had gone away in company. 
 
 " By all accounts they were evi<lently dangerous brutes 
 to meet. From Bruce they had got wondeii'ul speed and 
 endurance ; from Vixen, ferocity and fearlessness. Swift, 
 savage, stubborn, and always going in large packs, there 
 was not an animal on the plains oi- up among the mountains 
 for which they were not more than .a matcli. 
 
 " I felt eao-er to ffet a si^ht of the creatures, even though 
 it should mean some risk ; for while, like all wild dogs, 
 willing enough to give men a wide berth, there was no 
 
3i6 
 
 THE WILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA. 
 
 ■ I 
 
 il 
 
 tolling' wlint tliey iiiiglit do if pressed l)y liuiiger. It was 
 tlierefore good news when, a year later, orders came from 
 Red River for me to make a trip to Fort George on the 
 other side of the Rockies, where there were some matters 
 that needed straightening up, as either going or coming 
 
 back I would run a good chance of seeing something of tlie 
 famous dogs. 
 
 " I left Fort Assiniboine in the autumn, and although a 
 sharp look-out was kept by all the party as we went over 
 to Fort George, not a sight nor sign of the dogs did we 
 stumble upon. 
 
 " But on my way back in the spring I had better luck, 
 and I certainly shall never forget my first and last sight 
 of those terrible brutes. 
 
 " We had crossed the Rockies, and were descending the 
 eastern slopes, getting down among the foot-hills. One 
 day Heathcote and I pushed on together in advance of the 
 rest, both of us having the dogs on our mind. 
 
 " Early in the afternoon we came to a bluff that over- 
 looked a lovely little valley, which we at once decided 
 would be our camping-place for i/aat night. A bright 
 stream ran along the centre 'jl the valley. Having a 
 thought that perhaps a herd of deer might put in an ap- 
 pearance if we kept out of sight, we stretched ourselves 
 out comfortably on the bluff and awaited developments. 
 They proved to be interesting beyond all our expectations. 
 
 " We had been there about an hour, perhaps, when 
 Heathcote, who had been looking over at the opposite 
 bluff, suddenly grasped my arm, saying under his breath, — 
 
It \vas 
 lie from 
 
 on the 
 matters 
 
 coining 
 ig of tlie 
 
 :,houg-h a 
 ent over 
 s did ^ve 
 
 iter luck, 
 ast sight 
 
 ding the 
 Is. One 
 ce of the 
 
 lat over- 
 decided 
 A. bright 
 laving a 
 n an ap- 
 ourselves 
 opments. 
 ctations. 
 )s, when 
 opposite 
 3reath, — 
 
 
 TITR WILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA. 
 
 317 
 
 " ' Look tliere, M'Tavish ! What do you think of that ? ' 
 " A break in the bhiti' had made a sort of easy descent 
 
 ■'AaAIN AND AUAIN WOULD THE BEAR, KT8IN0 ON HIS HIND QUARTKRH, 
 UURL THE DOUS FROM HIM." 
 
 into the valley, and down this were coming, in single file, 
 one, two, three, fou/x — no less than a dozen bears of the 
 
 
 V: 
 
 ? 
 
I ' 
 
 H 
 
 u 
 
 'i: 
 
 3^8 
 
 THE IVILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA. 
 
 large and dreaded silver-tip kind ; splendid fellows most 
 of them, bent on having a good time on the sunny slopes 
 beside the stream. 
 
 " We hardly dared to stir or breathe. To have attacked 
 them would have been utter madness. Thankful mioht 
 w^e be if we could crawl away without their attacking us. 
 
 " While lying there motionless, and wishing to the 
 bottom of our hearts that the rest of the party were on 
 hand to make matters even, a fierce bark came from the 
 bluif a little above where the bears first showed them- 
 selves. It was follow^ed by a whole chorus of deep-mouthed 
 baying, and an instant later there rushed into view, fairly 
 tumbling over one another in their impetuous haste, a 
 great pack of dogs that we at once recognized as those we 
 wished to see. 
 
 " They were certainly a fearsome lot of creatures. Some 
 were long, lean, and shaggy, like Bruce ; others were thick- 
 bodied and smooth of hair, like Vixen, — and all were power- 
 ful, ravenous-looking brutes, a dozen of whom might eat a 
 ffood-sized buffalo for dinner without fcelino' uncomfortablv 
 overloaded after their meal. 
 
 "Thv/ sighted the bears tlie moment they reached the 
 edge of the bluff, and at once rushed down to the attack, 
 barking as though they would split their throats. The 
 bears made ready to receive them by massing together at 
 the top of a little knoll near the water, and before Ave could 
 fully realize what was taking place the fight had begun. 
 
 " So far as we could make out the dogs numbered fifty 
 at least, so that, considering their size and strength, the 
 
THE WILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA. 
 
 3^9 
 
 odds were a good deal in tli(Mr favour ; but tliC bears 
 fought like heroes. 
 
 " At first they crowded together in a sort of circle, with 
 heads facing out ; while the dogs ran round them, snarling 
 and barking, and watching their chance to spring. A few 
 moments later the circle was broken up into a dozen roar- 
 ing, writhing, yelping groups, composed of a bear with 
 four or five of the dogs clinging tenaciously to different 
 parts of its body. 
 
 *' It was the Vixen strain that told now. Again and 
 again would the bear, rising on his hind quarters, hurl the 
 dogs from him v.'ith mighty sweeps of his huge fore paws, 
 only to be penned at once, and brought to the ground by a 
 fresh attack. 
 
 "At frequent intervals an agonizing death-howl would 
 pierce its way through the horrible clamour, as some un- 
 fortunate dog, caught in the grasp of its maddened enemy, 
 would be crushed to death in his resistless embrace. 
 
 " The minutes slipped by, and the fight still raged, but 
 there could bo no doubt how it would result. The dogs 
 had the best of it as to numbers, and thoy were the equals 
 of the bears in courage, ferocity, and endurance, if not in 
 sheer strength. 
 
 " One b}^ one the big bi'own bodies rolled over in the 
 stillness of death. At the end of about half-an-hour the 
 fight was over. Not a boar breathed, an<l around theii- 
 torn carcasses la}'^ between twenty and thirty of the dogs, 
 as dead as themselves — the best possible proof of how 
 fiercely and obstinately they had fought. 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 i 
 
 ;■ -1 
 
 • 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 
 
^ 
 
 im 
 
 320 
 
 THE WILD DOGS OF ATHABASCA. 
 
 " Not a word liad passed between Heatheote and myself 
 while all this went on. We were too much taken up with 
 the extraordinary conflict going on before our eyes even to 
 look at each other ; but when it was all over, and the 
 surviving dogs, having satisfied themselves that the bears 
 were really all dead, lay down to lick their many wounds 
 before they began upon the feast their brave victims had 
 provided for them, I touched Heatheote on the shoulder, 
 and whispered, — 
 
 " ' We've seen the dogs ; let's take good care they don't 
 see us.' 
 
 " After such a proof of their powers as we had had, we 
 were in no mind to claim a nearer acquaintance with them 
 on the score of having once owned their ancestors. Ac- 
 cordingly we crawled noiselessly away, and making a long 
 circuit, rejoined our party in time to prevent their turning 
 down into the valley, which we no longer considered a 
 good place to camp in for the night. 
 
 " That was my first and last sight of the wild dogs of 
 Athabasca. The following autunm I went east, and never 
 returned to Fort Assiniboine. Whether the donfs have 
 since been all killed oflT or are still running wild amono- 
 the far recesses of the Rockies, I don't know ; but that 
 wonderful battle in the valley was one of the greatest 
 sights of my life, the like of which no one perhaps M-ill 
 . ever auain see on this continent." 
 
 
1^ 
 
 myself 
 p with 
 sven to 
 lid the 
 e bears 
 A'oiinds 
 ns had 
 loulder, 
 
 :y don't 
 
 had, we 
 bh them 
 •s. Ac- 
 r a long 
 turning 
 lered a 
 
 dogs of 
 d never 
 fs have 
 among 
 Int that 
 Icri'eatest 
 )s will 
 
 BIRDS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND. 
 
 — »>^>^f^«^tH^ — 
 
 IF you will take your atlas and turn to the map of 
 Canada, you may, by looking very carefully, discover a 
 small spot in the Atlantic Ocean almost due east from Nova 
 Scotia, and close beside the sixtieth parallel of longitude. 
 This little lonely spot is Sable Island. There it lies in the 
 midst of the waves, a long, low bank of gray sand without 
 a single tree upon it from end to end ; nay, not so much as 
 a bush behind which a baby might play hide-and-seek. It 
 seems, therefore, at first sight to be one of the most un- 
 favourable places in the world for the study of either birds 
 or beasts. Yet, strange as it may seem, this island, which 
 is now but twenty miles long, and at its greatest breadth 
 but a mile and a half wide — once it was quite double that 
 size — has a wonderfully interesting history of its own, of 
 which not the least entertaining chapter is that relating to 
 its furrv and feathered inhabitants. 
 
 Although when first viewed from the sea Sable Island 
 appears to be nothing better than a barren sand-bank, on 
 closer acquaintance it reveals inside its sloping beaches 
 vales and meadows that in summer-time seem like bits out 
 
 (9114) 21 
 
322 BIRDS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND. 
 
 ?. 
 
 of a Western prairie. There are green, grassy knolls, and 
 enchanting dells with placid ponds in their midst ; and if 
 you only come at the right time and stay long enough, you 
 may gather pink roses, blue lilies, China asters, wild pea, 
 gay golden-rod, and, what is still better, strawberries, blue- 
 berries, and cranberries in bountiful profusion. 
 
 Our concern at present, however, is not with the fruits 
 and flowers, but with tlie fur and feathers of this curious 
 place. 
 
 Seeing that Sable Island has no trees on the branches 
 of which nests may be built, it follows naturally that its 
 winged inhabitants are altogether of the water-fowl and 
 sea-bird variety. All over the sides and tops of the sand- 
 hills, which rise to the height of thirty, forty, or fifty feet, 
 the gulls, gannets, terns, and other aquatic birds scrape 
 together their miserable apologies for nests, and hatch out 
 their ugly little squab chicks, making such a to-do about 
 the business that the whole air is filled with their chatter- 
 ing, clanging, and screaming. 
 
 They are indeed very disagreeable neighbours ; for be- 
 sides the horrid din they are ceaselessly making, they 
 are the most untidy, not to say filthy, of housekeepers. 
 After they have occupied their bird -barracks, as their 
 nesting-places might appropi-iately be called, for a few 
 weeks, the odour the wind bears from that direction could 
 never be mistaken for one of those spicy breezes which are 
 reputed to " blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle." 
 
 Then they have not the redeeming quality of being fit 
 to eat ; for unless one were on the very edge of starvation^ 
 
3, and 
 ind if 
 h,you 
 i pea, 
 , blue- 
 fruits 
 lurious 
 
 ■ancbes 
 hat its 
 kvl and 
 e sand- 
 ty feet, 
 scrape 
 ,eb out 
 about 
 ibatter- 
 
 for be- 
 tbey 
 
 leepers. 
 tbeir 
 
 In 
 
 ; few 
 could 
 
 deb are 
 
 iin 
 
 (T 
 
 fit 
 
 BIRDS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND. 
 
 I 
 
 3^2, 
 
 vation., 
 
 one taste of tbeir flesb, rank with sutjiiestions of fisli and 
 train-oil, would be sutiicient to banisli all appetite. 
 
 They bave one or two good cpialities. Tbey are brave ; 
 for at tbo peril of tbeir lives tbey will dauntlessly attack 
 any rash intruder upon tbeir domains, swooping down upon 
 bim witb sbarp cries and still sliarper beaks. 
 
 Tbeir movements illustrate the poetry of motion, as tbey 
 come sailing grandly in from the ocean spaces, and circle 
 about their own particular billoek in glorious dips and 
 curves and mountings upward, that fill tbo buman observer 
 witb longing and envy. 
 
 Much more satisfactory, bowever, are tbe black duck, 
 sbeldrake, plover, curlew, and snipe, wbicb nest by un- 
 counted tbousands in tbe dense grass tbat girts tbe fresh- 
 water ponds, and afford dainty disbes for the table. It is 
 easy work to make a fine bag on a favourable day, and 
 grand sport may be bad by any one wbo knows bow to 
 bandle a double-barrel. 
 
 Many are tbe interesting stories connected witb bird life 
 on 8a-l»le Island, but a single one, and that the oddest of 
 tbem all, must suffice. I give it upon tbo unimpeacbable 
 authority of Dr. J. Bernard Gilpin. 
 
 About forty years or more ago a lot of rabbits were sent 
 tbere as an experiment. The idea was, if tbey prospered, 
 to furnisb the buman inbabitants of the island witb a 
 pleasant variety from tbe salt junk wbicb generally adorned 
 their tables. 
 
 The experiment succeeded admirably. Runny found tbe 
 firm, dry sands just tbe thing for bis burrows, while tbe 
 
 
324 BIRDS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND. 
 
 I :\ 
 
 ■.,!; 
 
 abundant wild pea and other herbage furnished unstinted 
 food for his prolific brood. But one fateful day in spring 
 — a dark day in the annals of rabbitdoni — a big snowy 
 owl, that had somehow lost liis bearings and been driven 
 out to sea by a westerly gale, dropped wearily upon the 
 island to rest his tired pinions. 
 
 While sitting on a sand-heap, thankful at his escape 
 from a watory grave, he looked about him, and to his 
 amazed delight ujhf ^ — of all sights the most welcome in 
 the world to a hungry owl — rahhiti< ! Rabbits young and 
 rabbits old, rabb'ts i- -mp u\a\ rabbits lean, rabbits in sixes 
 and rabbits in sevens, were frisking about in the long 
 grass and over the sand, merrily innocent of their peril. 
 
 At first Sir Owl could scarcely believe his eyes, for it 
 was a bright, sunny day, and owls cannot see very well 
 when the sun is shining ; but presently, as he still squatted 
 on the sand, perfectly motionless except his eyelids blink- 
 ing solemnly, a thoughtless little rabbit, which had grown 
 too much excited over a game of chase with his brother 
 to look where ho was going, ran up against the bewil- 
 dered bird. 
 
 This awoke the owl thoroughly. With a quick spring 
 that sent all the other little cotton-tails scampering off to 
 their burrows in wild affright, ho fastened his long claws 
 in the back of his unfortunate disturber, and, without even 
 stopping to say grace, made a dinner off him on the spot. 
 
 That was a red-letter day in the owl's calendar. Thence- 
 forth he revelled in rabbit for breakfast, dinner, and sup- 
 per, and, had he been a very greedy owl, might have kept 
 
BIRDS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND. 325 
 
 ; 
 
 well 
 uatted 
 blink- 
 er own 
 jrotber 
 bewil- 
 
 spring 
 off to 
 claws 
 
 at; even 
 spot. 
 
 rhenee- 
 1 siip- 
 
 ^e kept 
 
 his discovery of a rabbit bonanza all to himself ; but he 
 didn't. With a splendid unselfishness which some bipeds 
 without feathers might advantageously imitate, he had no 
 sooner recruited his strength than off he posted to the 
 mainland to spread the good news. 
 
 Four days later he came back, but not alone this time. 
 Bearing him company were his brothers, his sisters, his 
 cousins, his uncles, and his aunts, in such numbers that ere 
 the summer ended there was not a solitary bunny left upon 
 the island ! 
 
 Since then the place has been restocked, and there hav- 
 ing been no return of the owls, the rabbits, despite the fact 
 that great numbers of them are killed for food, have so 
 multiplied as to become a positive nuisance, and the ex- 
 perience of Australia being in view, the advisability of 
 their extermination is seriously considered. 
 
 Besides the rabbits, there have been, at different times, 
 the following animals upon Sable Island — namely, the 
 black fox, white bear, walrus, and seals ; wild horses, cattle, 
 and swine ; rats, cats, and dogs. That makes quite a long 
 list. Of course so small and bare an island could never 
 have held them all at once. 
 
 Now they are all gone except the rablnts, the horses, of 
 which several hundreds still scamper wild over the sand 
 dunes, and the seals, which come every year to introduce 
 their shiny little whelps into the world, and to grow fat 
 on the fish hurled continually upon the beach by the tire- 
 less breakers. 
 
 It is a great many years since the black fox, white bear, 
 
'TW 
 
 \ v-yM 
 
 326 BIRDS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND. 
 
 and walrus \vere last seen upon the island. Too much 
 money could be made out of thorn when dead for the 
 fishermen, who knew of their presence, to let them live 
 long ; and so with powder and shot and steel they were 
 ruthlessly exterminated. The beautiful skins of the black 
 fox, worth one hundred golden crowns each, went prin- 
 cipally to France, where they were made up into splendid 
 robes for royalty. 
 
 Just how the wild horses and cattle found their way to 
 Sable Island is not positively known. 
 
 They were first heard of in those early days when ships 
 loaded with cattle, grain, and farming utensils were coming 
 over in little fleets from Europe to lielp to settle America. 
 In all likelihood some of these vessels got cast away on the 
 island — for it has ever been a dreadful place for wrecks — 
 and in some way the animals managed to scramble safe 
 ashore, and thus the place became populated. 
 
 The wild cattle disappeared early in the century ; but 
 the horses, or rather ponies, arc still there, and very inter- 
 esting creatures they are. 
 
 Winter and summer they are out on the sand in all 
 weathers. Indeed, they scorn to go under cover even in 
 the wildest storms ; and although shelters have been built 
 for them, they will not deign to enter them. Another 
 curious thing about them is that they are never seen to lie 
 down, and apparently go to sleep standing. 
 
 There are now about four hundred of these ponies, 
 divided into troops, each under the charge and control of 
 an old stallion, whose shaggy, unkempt mane and tail 
 
 vil f 
 
BIRDS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND. 
 
 327 
 
 but 
 
 sweep the ground as he stands sentinel over his numerous 
 family. 
 
 They belong to the Dominion Government, and it has 
 been usual to cull out some forty or fifty of the best of 
 them each year and send them up to Halifax, where they 
 command good prices. 
 
 They are stanch, sturdy little animals, and very service- 
 able when properly broken. In my boyhood days I rejoiced 
 in the possession of a fine bay that, barring a provoking 
 habit of pitching an unwary rider over his head, was a 
 great source of enjoyment. 
 
 The manner of catching the ponies is for a number of 
 mounted men to surround a band and drive it into a corral 
 in which a tame pony has been placed as a decoy. This is 
 often a very exciting experience : the cracking of whips, 
 shouting of men, neighing of ponies, combine with the 
 plunging of the frightened captives and the gallant charges 
 of the enraged stallions to make up a scene not readily 
 forgotten. 
 
 Once safely corralled, the best males are picked out and 
 lassoed, and the rest turned loose to breathe the salt air of 
 freedom once more. 
 
 As the breed has been observed to be deo^enerating 
 greatly of late years, means have been taken to improve 
 it, and it is probable that ere long Sable Island ponies 
 will be more desirable than ever. 
 
 A very amusing thing in connection with animal life on 
 Sable Island is the story of the rats, cats, and dogs. 
 
 First of all were the rats, who are reputed to be very 
 
 
!|HV i| 
 
 ir 
 
 1 
 
 ' 
 
 Wmm 
 
 
 1 
 
 - 
 
 jffll 
 
 * 
 
 \l 
 
 : t 
 
 ':■ ! 
 
 \\ 
 
 i\ 
 
 328 BIRVS AND BEASTS ON SABLE ISLAND. 
 
 clover about deserting sinking ships, and who here found 
 plenty of opportunity to show their cleverness, for wrecks 
 are always liappening. They thus became so plentiful that 
 they threatened to eat the human inhabitants out of house 
 and home. Indeed, they did make them do without bread 
 for three whole months upon one occasion. 
 
 This state of things, of course, could not be tolerated, 
 A large number of cats were accordingly imported, and 
 they soon cleared the premises of the rapacious rodents. 
 But it was not long ere the pussies in their turn grew so 
 numerous, wild, and fierce as to become a source of serious 
 trouble. A small army of dogs was therefore brought upon 
 the scene, and they made short work of the cats, thus 
 rounding out a very curious cycle. 
 
 Did space permit I could tell something about the seals, 
 and their very quaint and attractive ways and manners. 
 But perhaps enough has been already wa-itten to convince 
 readers that however lonely, barren, and insignificant Sable 
 Island may seem, it has an interesting story of its own 
 which is well w^orth the tellinfj. 
 
THE BORE OF MLXAS BASIN. 
 
 U 
 
 PON the side of one of the rounded hills th;it rise 
 up gently from the wonderful sea of verdure 
 which Longfellow, without ever looking upon it for him- 
 self, immortalized in his " Evangeline," Acacia Villa nestled 
 cozily in the midst of many trees. Long lines of poplars 
 stood sentinel-like up and down the house front, and 
 marked out the oarden boundaries, furnishinfj abundant 
 supplies of " peppers " for the boys in spring-time ; and, 
 better still, a whole regiment of apple and pear trees mar- 
 shalled itself at the back, tilling the hearts (and mouths) 
 of both vounoj and old with dolioht in the autumn, when 
 the boughs bent so temptingly beneath their burden of 
 fruitage. There could hardly be a more attractive loca- 
 tion for a boarding-school; and seeing what coinfortaMj 
 quarters Mr. Thomson provided, and how thorougldy he 
 understood the business of teaching, it was no wonder that 
 boys came not only from all parts of Nova Scotia and 
 New Brunswick, but even from the United States, to be 
 grounded in classics, mathematics, and literature under his 
 direction. 
 
 The last boarder left Acacia Villa long ago, but twenty 
 
 I! 
 
f ■ 
 
 ^5 ; ' 
 
 ,r.f 
 
 
 ' 
 
 ii' 
 
 ft- 
 
 1 
 
 t 
 
 1 
 
 1^: 
 
 330 
 
 THE BORE OF MINAS BASIX. 
 
 years back its (lorinitorics were filled to their utmost 
 capacity with lads of all ages and sizes, and the whole 
 neinhbourhood felt the stirring' influence of twoscore 
 lively, liearty, noisy boys in its midst. For nearly ten 
 months out of the year the school was like a hive of bees 
 in honey-time — the term beginning in September ami 
 finishing in June. It was coming on toward midsummer 
 now, and excitement ran high throughout the school ; for 
 while the drones were looking forward longingly to the 
 holidays which would release tliem from all hori'id lesson- 
 learning for a couple of months, the workers were even 
 more eagerly expecting the final examinations, when books, 
 bats, balls, knives, and other things dear to the schoolboy's 
 heart, were offered by wise Mr. Thomson to the boys wdi( 
 came out ahead in the different branches of study. TL 
 two boys strolling down toward the river this fine summer 
 afternoon were good representatives of the two classes — 
 Frank Hamilton beino- one of the brightest and most am- 
 bitious, as Tom Peters, or " Buntie " in the saucy slang of 
 his schoolmates, was one of the dullest and least aspiring 
 in the school. Yet, somehow or other, they had been 
 great chums ever since they came by the same coach to 
 the Axilla two years before. One could easily understand 
 that lazy, good-natured " Buntie " should find much to 
 admire and love in handsome, manly, clever Frank, who 
 was indeed a born leader ; but just what Frank found in 
 Tom to make him so fond of him puzzled everybody, from 
 Mr. Thomson down. In whatever la}?^ the secret, the fact 
 was clear that the boys loved each other like brothers; 
 
THE BORE OF MEWAS BASIN, 
 
 331 
 
 utmost 
 whole 
 A'oscore 
 rly ten 
 of bees 
 jer aii»l 
 suiriint'i' 
 3ol ; for 
 to the 
 , lesson- 
 re even 
 11 books, 
 loolboy's 
 oys win 
 y. Th. 
 summer 
 asses 
 lost am 
 lang of 
 aspiring 
 ad been 
 oach to 
 erstand 
 lucli to 
 ik, wdio 
 'ound in 
 ly, from 
 he fact 
 others ; 
 
 I 
 
 and the master, who delighted in classical allusions, used 
 to greet them as J)amon and Pythias when he encountered 
 them together. They were discussing the approaching 
 examinations, and speculating as to the prizes Mr. Thom- 
 son would ofi'er this year. 
 
 '• No apples for me on that tree," said Tom ; adding 
 with rather a rueful smile, " If Mr. Thomson would only 
 otter a prize for the most lickings and imj)ositions, I guess 
 I'd run the best chance for it." 
 
 " Never mind, old boy," said Frank, con.solingly. " You 
 weren't cut out for a scholar, that's clear; l«ut you'll come 
 out all right at something else, and perhaps make a bigger 
 name than even ' Yankee ' himself, although it wouldn't 
 do to let him hear you say so." 
 
 " I'm 'fraid I'd have a poor sight to beat Yankee at 
 ^i yi'hinp'" answered Tom. " But say, Frank, how do you 
 feel about givlrg him the go-by for the Starr pi'ize ? It 
 'ud break my heart if you didn't come out first." 
 
 " Well, to tell the trutli, Buntic, I don't feel any too 
 cockv about it. Yankee's a touuh customer to beat," re- 
 plied Frank. " But, hush ! he's coming right behind us. 
 Must be going down to the river too, though it's more like 
 him to stick in his room and grind." 
 
 And as a tall, slight, dark-faced lad of about sixteen 
 went past them without excliange of greetings, the two 
 friends stopped talking and w^ent on in silence. 
 
 " Yankee " was the nickname given to one of the 
 American boys at th(^ school. He had been thus distin- 
 miished because both in face and fiofure he bore some re- 
 
 HI 
 
 
 •t 
 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 i ! 
 
 
 1 
 
 t 
 
 1 
 
 
1 
 
 . ■ . 
 
 'l.l 
 
 i ■ ' 
 
 fill 
 
 1 
 
 mi 
 
 if 
 
 ■ I 
 
 ;■! 
 
 332 
 
 THE BORE OF MINAS BASIN. 
 
 semblance to the typical Uncle Sam, being longer, leaner, 
 and saliower than any of his companions. He was of a 
 quiet, reserved disposition, and had few friends. Indeed, 
 he did not seem to desire many, but kept very much to 
 himself, so that a lot of the boys disliked him. Yet, on 
 the other hand, others respected although tliey might not 
 love him ; for not only did he divide with Frank Hamil- 
 ton, whom they all worshipped, the highest honours in 
 scholarship, but once, when scarlet fever broke out and 
 seized upon six of the smallest boys before they could 
 escape to their homes, " Yankee," or, to give him his proper 
 name, Emory Haynes, although ho had never had the fever 
 himself, stayed with Mr. Thomson through many anxious 
 weeks, and watched night after night by the sufferers' 
 bedsides, showing such tact and devotion as a nurse that 
 the doctor said at least two of the boys would never have 
 been saved from death had it not been for his help. 
 
 Walking with a rapid, almost impatient step that was 
 chnracteristic of him, Emory Haynes passed the two 
 friends, all three directing their course toward the Gasper- 
 eaux River, whicli cuts a wide red gash through the Grand 
 Pre before adding its turbid torrent to the tossinof waters 
 of Minas Basin. 
 
 " If Yankee beats me for the Starr prize, it will be the 
 biggest disappointment of my life," continued Frank. " It's 
 not every day that a fellow can get hold of five pounds 
 in bright big gold pieces ; and father has promised if I 
 win it to chip in as much more and buy me a splendid 
 boat." 
 
I'^IIE BORE OF MINAS BASIN. 
 
 333 
 
 eaner, 
 1 of a 
 ndeed, 
 ich to 
 ret, on 
 ;ht not 
 Hamil- 
 lurs in 
 ut and 
 ■ could 
 proper 
 le fever 
 anxious 
 ufFerers' 
 SB that 
 er have 
 
 bat was 
 he two 
 |Gasper- 
 Grand 
 waters 
 
 |l be the 
 
 « It's 
 
 pounds 
 
 ted if I 
 
 splendid 
 
 " O Frank, you're sure to get it. Yankee works like a 
 slave, to be sure, but he hasn't half as good a head on 
 him," answered Tom confidently. 
 
 " I'm not by any means certain of that, Tom. Just see 
 how easily he gets through his mathematics. He's sure 
 to beat mo on that, and I'll have to make up for it by 
 beating him in classics. Anyhow, it is no use worrying 
 about it now. Let's hurry up and have a dip." 
 
 So dropping the subject, the two boys ran off at a rate 
 that soon brought them to the river bank. 
 
 Here a lovely picture awaited them. From their feet 
 the red banks of clay and sand stretched hundreds of 
 yards away (for the tide was out), until they were lapped 
 bv the river, now shr'ank into a narrow, sluo'fi'ish stream. 
 To right and left and beyond the river the wide, level marsh 
 lands, redeemed from the water by the patient toil of the 
 Acadians, w^ere waist-deep in verdure that swayed in long- 
 lines of light and shadow before the summer breeze. Not 
 far off began the great dikes that sweep clear round the 
 outer edcfe of the Grand Prt^, the only elevation on all that 
 vast plain, and now waving to their summits with " dusty- 
 blossomed grass." Behind them the hills rose gently in 
 fold upon fold, their broad shoulders flecked with fre(|uent 
 patches of golden grain or the dark foliage of the orchards ; 
 while over all rose a glorious summer sun that seemed to 
 thrill the whole landscape with life and warmth and 
 glory. 
 
 But the boys had no eyes for all this beauty. They 
 were far more concerned about the tide, and felt inclined 
 
 HI 
 
 \ 
 
334 
 
 THE BORE OF MINAS BASm. 
 
 % 
 
 :!r 
 
 K,i! 
 
 to resent sitvy warmly the fact that it should be out just 
 when they wanted to have a swim. 
 
 " What a fraud !" exclaimed Frank. " Ton my word, 
 I believe the old tide is twice as much out as it is in ; now 
 isn't it, Buntie ?" 
 
 "It is, sure's you're born," assented Tom. "The c , 
 nothing for it, I suppose, but to wait ;" and so saying, ne 
 tlirew himself down in the long grass, his friend immedi- 
 ately following his example. 
 
 Twenty yards away Emory Haynes was already seated 
 with his face turned riverward, apparently lost in deep 
 thought. 
 
 "Wonder what Yankee's thinking about?" remarked 
 Tom. " Puzzling out some of those confounded problems 
 he does so easily, perhaps," he added feelingly, for he had 
 had some humiliating experiences of his own inability to 
 get over the ]?o']W Asinorum safely, or to explain why a 
 was equal to x under certain perplexing circumstances. 
 
 " More probably planning what he'll do with that five 
 pounds," said Frank, half petulantly. " I guess it's more 
 likely to go into books than into a boat if he gets hoM 
 of it." 
 
 " But he isn't going to get hold of it," objected Tom ; 
 and then, without giving Frank a chance to reply, he 
 burst out, " Oh, I say, Frank, suppose instead of waiting 
 here we go down to meet the bore and have a race back 
 with it." 
 
 Frnnk hesitated a moment before answering, for what 
 Tom proposed was a very rash thing to do. What is 
 
THE BORE OF MINAS BASIN. 
 
 335 
 
 it just 
 
 word, 
 
 L ; now 
 
 The 
 
 iiig, ne 
 iiiinedi- 
 
 seated 
 n deep 
 
 marked 
 
 roblems 
 
 he had 
 
 ility to 
 
 why a 
 
 cs. 
 
 lat five 
 s more 
 ts hold 
 
 1 Tom ; 
 
 ply. 1^® 
 
 l^vaitiiig 
 \Q back 
 
 what 
 That is 
 
 known as the " bore " is the bisf wave produced by the on- 
 rush of water in a place where the tides rise forty, fifty, 
 
 TIIF.V SAW TltKIll COMPANION KMBEDDEl) XF.AniA' TO THE WAIST IN A liTIiKMAM'. 
 
 or even sixty feet, according to tlie time of year. The 
 Bay of Fundy, of whicli Miiias Basin is a branch, is fa- 
 
336 
 
 THE BORE OF MINAS BASIN. 
 
 m 
 
 I :, 
 
 If: 
 
 1J 
 
 •J I, 
 
 ■ I : 
 
 mous for these wonderful tides, and the movements of the 
 water make a sight well worth watching. The two boys 
 had often looked on with lively interest as the returning 
 flood rushed eagerly up the channel and over the Hats, 
 until in an incredibly short time what had been a waste 
 of red mud was transfortned into a bioad expanse of turbid 
 water. 
 
 " Rather a risky business, Tom, but I don't mind trying- 
 it. I'm in the humour for almost anything to-day ; so 
 come along." 
 
 And without more ado the boys doffed their boots and 
 stockings, rolled up their trousers, and set out for the 
 water's edge. Emory Haynes watched them in silence 
 until they had gone about fifty yards. Then, as if divin- 
 ing their foolish design, he called after them, — 
 
 " Frank — Tom — where are you going to ?" 
 
 " Going to meet the bore. Don't you want to come?" 
 Frank shouted back. " Come along, Yankee, if you're not 
 afraid," he added, in a half scornful tone. 
 
 Not the words, but the tone in which they were uttered, 
 brought an angry flush out on Emory's sallow cheeks, and 
 without stopping to think of the folly of the thing, he too 
 fluniT- off his boots and started after the others. 
 
 " Blessed if Yankee isn't coming, after all," said Tom, 
 under his breath, to Frank. " The chap's got plenty of 
 grit in him." 
 
 Side by side, but in silence — for somehow or other they 
 felt ill at ease — the three boys picked their way carefully 
 over the slippery mud and soft sand, keeping a sharp 
 
THE BORE OF MINAS BASIN. 
 
 337 
 
 )f the 
 ) boys 
 irning 
 5 flats, 
 ^Yaste 
 turbid 
 
 trying 
 lay; so 
 
 3ts and 
 
 for the 
 
 silence 
 
 I divin- 
 
 come { 
 [u're not 
 
 I uttered, 
 iks, and 
 he too 
 
 id Tom, 
 lenty of 
 
 lier they 
 krefully 
 la sharp 
 
 look-out for the sink -holes or quicksands, in which they 
 might easily sink to their waists, or even deeper, at one 
 plunge. Hardly had they reached the edge of the channel 
 when Frank, who had been gazing down intently toward 
 the Basin, called out, — 
 
 " There it comes, fellows. Doesn't it look grand ?" 
 
 A good way off still, but drawing nearer with astonish- 
 ing speed, a wall of dark foam-topped water came rushing 
 up the channel and over the thii-sty flats. It was several 
 feet in height, and behind it followed the whole vast 
 volume of the tide. 
 
 The three lads had never been so close to the bore 
 before, and they stood still and silent watching the grand 
 sight until a shout from Emory broke the spell. 
 
 " Now then, boys, let's run for it." 
 
 As fast as their feet could carry them they sped over 
 the treacherous greasy flats, leaping tlie gaping gullies, 
 turning aside from the suspicious spots, and steering 
 straight for the place where they had left their shoes. 
 Frank and Tom were both famous runners, and soon out- 
 stripped Emory ; in fact, they were more than half-way 
 to the bank, when a sharp cry of alarm made thom stop 
 and turn to see what was the matter. One glance was 
 enough to tell them. Twenty yards behind they saw 
 their companion embedded nearly to the waist in a quick- 
 sand, from which he was madly struggling to extricate 
 himself, while his eftbrts seemed only to sink him the 
 deeper. His situation was one of extreme peril. The 
 bore had somewhat spent its force, but still advanced 
 
 1 'I 
 
 •:i 
 
338 
 
 THE BORE OF MINAS BASIN. 
 
 : If: ■*: 
 
 Ml-l' 
 
 steadily. Unless Emory was rescued without delay, he 
 would be buried beneath its pitiless flood. 
 
 For one brief instant Frank hesitated, and Tom, as 
 usual, waited for him to lead. Thoughts of the personal 
 risk, the small chance of succeeding, and even — though 
 ever after the mere recollection of it made his cheek burn 
 with shame — of the advantasje it would be to have his 
 rival out of the way, throbbed through his brain. But it 
 was only for an instant ; and then with a shout of " Keep 
 cool, Yankee : we're coming!" he grasped Tom's arm, and 
 together they sprang to the rescue. Kunning with all 
 their might, they reached their imperilled schoolmate just 
 a second before the bore did, and standing on either side 
 the treacherous spot were able to each seize a hand, and 
 with one tremendous effort draw him out of its deadly 
 embrace ere the great w^ave came sweeping down upon 
 them, tumbling them over like nine-pins into the midst of 
 its muddy surges. Fortunately, however, all three were 
 good swimmers, and they had only to allow the water to 
 work its will with them, for after a little tossing about 
 it landed them safely on a sand-bank, whence they could 
 easily wade ashore. 
 
 Emory did not say much to his rescuers. It was not 
 his way. But no one could mistake the depth of feeling 
 expressed in the few words, — 
 
 " Frank, you've saved my life, and I'll never forget it." 
 
 Two weeks later the examinations came off, and amid 
 the applause of the school Frank Hamilton was declared 
 winner of the Starr prize, Emory Haynes being only just 
 
THE BORE OF MINAS BASIN. 335 
 
 a few point, behind him. Mr. Thoni.son was very well 
 plea.,ed at the result ; but there wa.s one thin.- that puzzled 
 him a good deal-Emory, who was by far the best mathe- 
 matieal .seholar in the .sehool, had son.ehow or other done 
 by no means .so well in that branch as usual. In fact l,e 
 had actually left several not over-diffieult questions alto- 
 gether unanswered, and this more than anything else had 
 lost hnn the prize. Mr. Thomson mentioned the matter to 
 Frank Hamilton, at the same tin.e e.s-pressing his surprise 
 
 " I n. not surprised." .said Frank, as something that 
 looked very like tears welled up in his eyo.s. " When I 
 saved Yankee's life he said lie'd never forget it. That's 
 how he kept his word." 
 
 Mr. Thomson needed no f,n-ther explanation. 
 
fl 
 
 THE GAME OF KINK HOCKEY. 
 
 r;t"h 
 
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 I .1 
 
 ,, I 
 
 ■•ll 
 
 fii ! 
 
 if i ; 
 Itti. i.; 
 
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 lb 
 
 THE part performed by Canada in making contribu- 
 tions to the list of the world's amusements has 
 been by no means slight. Lacrosse and canoeing for the 
 warm bright days of summer, snow-shoeing and toboggan- 
 ing for the crisp cold nights of winter, these make up a 
 quartette of healthy, hearty sports, the superiors of which, 
 in their appropriate season, any other country might 
 safely be challenged to show, But apparently this am- 
 bitious colony is not content with the laurels already 
 won, and in the bringing of the game of rink hockey to 
 perfection would add another to her garland ; for this 
 fine game, as played in the Canadian cities to-day, is, 
 without question, a distinctly home product. 
 
 Not that hockey is native to the soil in the same sense 
 as lacrosse. In a simpler form, and under different names, 
 it has long existed in England ; but the difference between 
 the game as played there on the green and played in 
 Canada on the ice, is as great as that between an old- 
 fashioned game of rounders and a professional game of 
 base-ball. 
 
THE GAME OF RINK HOCKEY. 
 
 341 
 
 io-ht 
 
 The most ancient account of hockey is to he found in 
 that dear, delightful old book, Strutt's " Sports and Pas- 
 times of the People of England," where it ligures under 
 the name of " bandy ball," — what is now called the hockey 
 stick being then known as the " bandy ; " and there is 
 attached to the description a comical little woodcut repre- 
 senting two boys in short frocks, each wielding bandies 
 almost as big as themselves, pla3'ing with a ball half the 
 size of their heads. 
 
 As first played in Canada, hockey went by various 
 names, some of which were apjjarently merely local — 
 hurley, shinny, rickets, and so forth. It was played only 
 upon the ice in winter-time, and there was not much pre- 
 tence to rules, each player taking part as best he knew 
 how. No effort toward systematizing the game appears 
 to have been made until the year 1875, when the members 
 of the Montreal Football Club, in search of some lively 
 athletic amusement for the long winter months, recognized 
 in hockey the very thing they wanted. 
 
 At first the rules adopted for the regulation of the 
 game were modelled upon those of the English Hockey 
 Association. But as the game developed, many changes 
 were found necessary in adapting it to the requirements 
 of a rink, and the rules now used by the Amateur Hockey 
 Association of Canada are in the main original with it. 
 
 Starting from Montreal, the game has made its wa}' to 
 Halifax and St. John on the east, and to Ottawa and 
 Toronto on the west, and from the enthusiasm with which 
 it has been taken up at these cities, it actually threatens 
 
«■! 
 
 Jli ■• 
 
 '!! 
 
 342 
 
 THE GAME OF RIXK JIOCKEY. 
 
 to displace toboo-ganiiig and .snow-shoeinq; in the affections 
 of the young men. 
 
 Let me now try to give my readers some idea of the 
 game and the way in whicli it is played. Please picture 
 to yourselves a skating-rink with an ice surface one hun- 
 dred and fifty feet in length by seventy-five feet in width. 
 At either end, close to the platform, are the goals, consist- 
 ing of two slender poles placed six feet apart, and stand- 
 ing four feet high, with small red flags at their peaks. 
 Such is the field of battle, and npon it the players take 
 their places. They are dressed nmch as they would be 
 for football, except that their feet are shod with skates 
 of a peculiar make, the heel projecting more than in an 
 ordinary skate, in order to guard against getting a nasty 
 fall when heeling up suddenly. Each player is armed 
 with a hockey stick, as to the size of which the only rule 
 is that it shall not be more than three inches wide at any 
 part. A good stick should be made of a single piece of 
 ash, bent, not sawed, into the proper curve, of the length 
 and weight the player finds to suit him best. The bone 
 of contention between the contending sides is called the 
 puck, and is a circular piece of vulcanized rubber one 
 inch thick all through, and three inches in diameter. It 
 is slightly elastic, and will rebound from the board sides 
 of the rink if sent violently against them ; a fact which 
 enables an expert player to evade an opponent charging 
 down to wrest it from liim, as by striking the puck against 
 the boards, and picking it up again on the rebound, he can 
 keep on his w^ay unchecked. 
 
THE GAME OF KINK HOCKEY. 
 
 343 
 
 The teams are arranjrjed in the i'ollowiiifj manner : — Goal- 
 keeper takes his place between the posts, and a little for- 
 ward of thenij point stands about four yards out, and a 
 little to one side, so as not to interfere with the goal- 
 keeper's view down the centre ; cover-point's position is 
 from ten to fifteen yards out from goal, and on the 
 4lD^ J: opposite side to 
 
 point ; centre's post 
 is indicated by his 
 
 
 name ; and the same may be 
 said of the rio-ht and left 
 forwards, and the half-back, who supports centre. 
 
 For the control of the game there are a referee, who 
 follows it about as does the referee at footljall, and two 
 umpires, one at either goal, the sole business of the latter 
 being to decide whether or not the puck has passed be- 
 tw^een the posts, and not above the flags. 
 
 Play begins with a bully — that is, the puck is placed 
 
344 
 
 THE GAME OF RINK HOCKEY. 
 
 
 between the two centres in the centre of the rink, and 
 they, after solemnly striking their sticks together three 
 times, scramble for its possession, trying either to drive 
 it ahead into their opponents' territory, or behind to the 
 lialf-back, who immediately passes it to one of the for- 
 wards. Then the game goes on in lively earnest ; and 
 when the teams are expei't and well matched, there is 
 nothing on ice to compare with it for brilliancy and ex- 
 citement. The exceeding swiftness of the players' move- 
 ments ; the sudden variations in the position of the puck 
 as, under the impidse of sinewy arms, it darts from end 
 to end, from side to side, of the rink ; the incessant grind 
 and clatter and ring of the skates ; the crack of the 
 hockeys, and the shouts of the eager players — all combine 
 to work up the deepest interest among the spectators; and 
 the announcement of a match between two good teams 
 always insures a large and enthusiastic attendance. 
 
 The rules by which the game is governed are easily 
 understood. So long as the puck is on the ice it is in 
 play, even though it be behind the goal line. Of course a 
 goal can be won only from the front; l)ut an opponent 
 who is not otf'-side may follow the puck behind the goal 
 line, and fight for the privilege of bringing it out r 
 The rules as to on-side and off-side are precisely the ue 
 as in Ku^by football ; that is to say, a player must 
 always be between his own goal and the puck when he 
 plays on it. A violation of this rule calls for a bully at 
 the spot where the wrong stroke was made. The referee 
 is the sole judge in all matters of this kind, and from his 
 
THE GAME OF RINK HOCKEY, 
 
 345 
 
 decision there is no appeal. The puck may be stopped, 
 but not carried or knocked on by any part of tlie botly. 
 In striking it the stick must not be raised above the 
 sliouldor. The object of this rule is to check violence, and 
 the effect of it is to make the stroke more of a push than 
 a blow, insuring greater accuracy in shooting for goal or 
 a fellow-player, and adding greatly to the grace of th.e 
 game. A practised player will, with wonderfully little 
 manifest etibrt, send the puck from end to end of the rink 
 if the ice is at all in good condition. 
 
 Another mode of propelling the puck which is at pres- 
 ent permissible, but is in danger of being ruled out, is 
 " lifting." I cannot very well explain in words how it is 
 done ; but by a deft turn of the wrist, gained only by 
 diligent practice, the rubber is made to spring into the air 
 and Hy in the desired direction. It is a very effective but 
 dangerous way of gaining ground, the danger consisting in 
 the liability of players to be struck by the weighty mis- 
 sile, and ugly blows have often been received in this way. 
 A " lift " at the goals is very hard to stop, if sent in low 
 and swift, as I know by personal experience ; for once, 
 when tending goal, the point of my opponents charged 
 down the length of the rink, and, without slackening 
 speed, " lifted " the puck, and sent it past me like a bullet, 
 while I was making ready to receive it on the ice, not 
 imagi ing that he could lift successfully while at full 
 speed. 
 
 No charging from behind, tripping, collaring, kicking, or 
 shim 'iig is allowed; and if any player offends after two 
 
( Jl 
 
 !1 . 
 
 ^1 
 
 34<J 
 
 THE GAME OF RINK HOCKEY. 
 
 warnings, it is the duty of the referee to order him off the 
 ice for the remainder of the mateli. If the puck goes off 
 the ice behind tlie goals, it must be taken five yards out, 
 at right angles from the goal line, and there " faced " as at 
 the beginning of the game. When it goes off the ice at 
 the sides, it must be faced five yards at right angles from 
 the side boundary. 
 
 The goal-keeper must not during play lie, kneel, or sit 
 upon the ice, but must maintain a standing position. He 
 may stop the puck with his hands or feet, but may not 
 throw or kick it away from the goal. Ho nuist play it 
 properly with his stick. 
 
 Two half-hours, with an intermission of ten minutes to 
 regain breath and wipe off the perspiration, is the time 
 allowed for a match, the team winning the most goals 
 being the victors. There are no other points than goals 
 to be scored. 
 
 Such are the piincipal rules ; and now for a few words 
 in conclusion of a general character. Only those who are 
 in 2:ood condition and at homo on their skates should 
 undertake to play hockey. It is a violent game, and tests 
 both wind and muscle to the utmost. The player must 
 make up his mind to many falls, and no lack of hard 
 knocks on shins and knuckles ; for such things will hap- 
 pen, however faithfully the contestants try to keep to the 
 rules. At the same time, these very characteristics make 
 hockey one of the manliest of sports. Strength, speed, 
 endurance, self-control, shrewdness, are the necessary quali- 
 ties of one who would excel in it. Combination play is 
 
THE GAME OF RINK HOCKEY, 347 
 
 jnsfc as effective in it as in football, and there is no prac- 
 tical limit to the skill that may be attained. 
 
 A very important featuiu Df hockey is that it may be 
 played at night. Since the introduction of the electric 
 light our rinks are made as bright as day, and then the 
 many hard-working young men who are too busy all day 
 to take part in any sport have the opportunity of an 
 hour's splendid exercise after their woi-k is over. 
 
 Take it all in all, there is perhaps no winter sport ex- 
 clusively for men that is destined to become more popular, 
 or have more enduring favour. In Canada new associa- 
 tions are rapidly springing up, and local leagues that 
 arrange a schedule of matches for the season. The boys 
 are taking hoi. I of the game with great zest, closely imi- 
 tating i\A^ tricks and artifices of their big brothers, and it 
 is safe to say that hockey has definitely taken its place 
 among the national sports of Canada. 
 
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 ON THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS. 
 
 URRAH, Lon ! we've got the sort of clay we've 
 been looking for at last," cried Alec Pearson, as 
 he met liis chum one lovely still summer morning. " No 
 trouble about getting over to Deschenes to-day." 
 
 " Right you are, Alec ! This is just the correct thing. 
 We'll start straight after breakfast — hey ? " 
 
 " As soon as you like, provided mother's got the grub 
 ready. Can't think of going without that, you know." 
 
 "No, sir. A basket of grub's half the fun. And 
 mother's promised me a big one." 
 
 " Ditto mine," responded Alec. " So there's no fear of 
 our starving for a while, even if we get cast away on one 
 of the islands." 
 
 " Cast away on one of the islands ! " echoed Lon. " That's 
 a great idea ! Wouldn't it make a great sensation ? " 
 
 " Perhaps it would," replied Alec, who was of a more 
 cautious and unimaginative cast of character. "But I'm 
 not hankering to try it all the same. To get over to 
 Deschenes will be enough fun for me." 
 
 The speakers were two boys of about sixteen years of 
 age, sitting upon the front steps of a summer cottage, and 
 
ON THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS. 
 
 349 
 
 looking out across the splendid stretch of water that 
 flashed Hke a flawless mirror beneath the fiery morning 
 sunshine. 
 
 They had come out to Britannia for the summer, and 
 were enjoying its fine facilities for boating, bathing, and 
 canoeing as only city boys, pent up in close quarters for 
 three-fourths of the year, can enjoy such exhilarating 
 sports. 
 
 The great Lake Deschenes filled them with profound 
 admiration. They exulted in its magnificent breadth, its 
 mighty length, its cool, limpid depths, and most of all the 
 glorious rapids which marked the place where it gathered 
 itself togetlier to become the River Ottawa again, and 
 resume its steady course seaward. 
 
 Nearly all their time they spent upon the water or in 
 it, and in the course of a month liad become tolerably ex- 
 pert canoeists, so that they did not hesitate to take long 
 trips up the lake or across to the farther side. 
 
 The visit to Deschenes vili ,e, whose cottages were 
 scattered along the lake shore almost opposite to Britannia,, 
 had been put oft' until they felt themselves to be thoroughly 
 masters of their cranky craft ; for in order to get there 
 it was necessary to cross the head of the rapids, and to do 
 this successfully would require both sti-engtli and skill. 
 
 For a week past Alec and Lon had felt themselves to 
 be equal to the task, but had been delayed by unfavour- 
 able weather. Great, then, was their delight when this 
 particular Saturday morning dawned ?]ear and calm, 
 promising to be the very kind of a day they desired. 
 
vt s 
 
 350 
 
 OJV THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS. 
 
 '1, 
 
 
 
 I^li 
 
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 lij 'I 
 
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 They started at nine o'clock, taking with them for com- 
 pany, besides their well-tilled baskets, Wad, Alec's hand- 
 some hunting spaniel, who had learned to behave perfectly 
 on board the canoe. 
 
 Their craft was of the most approved make, of which 
 they were joint-owners, completely equipped with paddles, 
 cushions, sails, and steering-gear. 
 
 There being not a breath of wind, they had no use for 
 the sail, so the mast was not put up nor the rudder 
 shipped. In his enthusiastic eagerness to realize their 
 long-cherished plan, Lon set to paddling with all his 
 might ; but Alec, who had the stern, laughingly checked 
 his ardour, saying, — 
 
 " Take it easy, Lon ; take it easy, my boy ! There's lots 
 of work ahead of you. Better not waste your muscle now !" 
 
 Alec had taken care to make inquiries of some of the 
 Britannia folk as to the course he should steer, and they 
 had all impressed upon him to go a good way straight up 
 the lake, and away from the rapids, before turning toward 
 Deschcnes, as the current was tremendously strong, and 
 made itself felt far higher up than one would imagine, 
 lookino; at it from the Britannia side. 
 
 Accordingly he pointed the canoe almost due north, as 
 though he had Aylmer in mind rather than Deschenes, and 
 kept her on that course until Lon began to grow impatient. 
 
 " What's the use of going up so far ? " he protested ; 
 " you can't feel the current here." 
 
 " Because old Lark told me to make that point before 
 sti-iking across, and he knows all about it," replied Alec. 
 
ON THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS. 
 
 35' 
 
 "Ugh; Lark's an old fuss. He goes away up there 
 only because he's too lazy to pull straight across where 
 the current's strong," grumbled Lon, who had a passion 
 for short cuts, and who kept urging his companion to head 
 the canoe more directly toward their destination, until at 
 last Alec, for very peace's sake, and against his better 
 judgment, altered their course in compliance with his 
 wishes. 
 
 For a hundred yards or so the paddling w^as no harder 
 than before, and they made no leeway, so that Lon could 
 exclaim triumphantly, — 
 
 " There now, didn't I tell you ? It's only a waste of 
 time going so far up." 
 
 But when another hundred yards' advance had brought 
 the canoe fairly into the middle of the mighty stream, 
 moving with majestic flow toward the angry rapids, the 
 paddlers soon awoke to the fact that while they were still 
 making good headway, they were making considerable 
 leew^ay also, and that the task of getting across was going 
 to be made much harder tliereby. 
 
 Although both noticed this, neither made any remark 
 about it at first : Alec, because he did not wish to alarm 
 Lon ; and Lon, because he shrank from admitting that it 
 would have been wiser to follow shrewd old Lark's advice. 
 
 So they paddled away in silence, putting plenty of 
 muscle into their strokes, and anxiously measuring their 
 progress by landmarks on the farther shore. 
 
 Presently their exertions began to tell upon their young 
 frames. The perspiration beaded their faces, their breath 
 
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 352 
 
 ON THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS. 
 
 came short, their backs began aching, and their arms grew 
 weary. 
 
 Lon's heart was already sinking within him, and Alec 
 deeply regretted having yielded to his companion's ill- 
 advised solicitations to disregard old Lark. 
 
 But there was no time for reconsideration or exchanging 
 of regrets. They were beyond a doubt in the grasp of the 
 current, and must strain every nerve to extricate them- 
 selves. 
 
 Then, to add to their anxiety, the weather showed signs 
 of betraying the fair promise of the morning. Clouds 
 began to obscure the deep blue of the sky, and a breeze 
 to ruffle the calm surface of the lake. Unable to control 
 his feelings any longer, Lon broke out with more than a 
 hint of a sob in his voice, — 
 
 " O Alec, I wish we hadn't started I I'm getting aw- 
 fully tired, and we don't seem to be making any headway 
 at all." 
 
 " Oh, yes we are, Lon," responded Alec, doing his best 
 to be cheerful. " Paddle away ; we'll get across all right." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Lon put a little more life into his 
 strokes for the next few minutes, and the canoe did seem 
 to be gaining ground. But the gain was only temporary. 
 The further they advanced the more tliey felt the force of 
 the current. 
 
 Yet it was too late to turn back. Tlieir onlv course 
 was to keep on until they had shaken themselves free 
 from the power that was dragging them downward to 
 destruction. 
 
ON THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS. 
 
 353 
 
 aw- 
 way 
 
 best 
 sfht." 
 his 
 seem 
 rary. 
 ce of 
 
 Wlietlier they wouM liavo been equal to this feat can 
 only be guessed ; for in trying to change his position to 
 relieve his erainpod legs, Lon lost his balance for a moment, 
 and on attempting to recover himself did what was even 
 worse — let slip his paddle, which was instantly whirled out 
 of his reach. 
 
 " Alec ! what shall we do now ? " he cried in dismay. 
 
 Alec's face was white and set. 
 
 " Nothing — we are powerless," he said quietly. 
 
 It was, of course, futile for him to try to contend alone 
 with tlie pitiless current. The little canoe, as if glad at 
 having no longer to fight its way foot by foot, glided gaily 
 down towards the rapids, and all that Alec could do was 
 to keep it straight in its course, and not allow it to swing 
 around broadside. 
 
 Poor Lon, utterly overcome with terror, crouched down 
 in the bow, sobbing so that he shook the frail canoe. 
 But Alec was not one to yield to despair so long as any- 
 thing could be done. 
 
 His brain was busy seeking some scheme for escape 
 from their exceeding peril, and as he glanced anxiously 
 ahead, a thought flashed into his mind that caused his eye 
 to bi'ighten and his pale face to light up with hope and 
 determination. 
 
 Right on the edge of the rapids, just before the smooth 
 SM'ift stream broke up into tumultuous billows, stood a 
 little island — a mere patch of rocks, crowned with half-a- 
 dozen straggling trees. 
 
 If he could only beach the canoe on this island they 
 
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 354 
 
 Oiv^ r^^ i:dge of the rapids. 
 
 might yet be saved. It was all that remained between 
 them and certain death. 
 
 The island was not more than two hundred yards dis- 
 tant, and to reach it he must make the canoe cut obliquely 
 through the current. Summoning all his energies for a 
 supreme effort, he bent to his task, in the meantime saying 
 to Lon, — 
 
 " Be ready to jump the moment the canoe strikes." 
 
 For a boy of his age. Alec put a wonderful degree of 
 strength into his strokes, and he had the joy of seeing his 
 frail craft obey, in spite of the opposing waters, until it 
 was pointing fair for the island. Then with a glad hur- 
 rah he ceased fighting the current, and joined forces with 
 it, so successfully as to drive the canoe straight towards 
 the rocks. 
 
 He did not miss his aim. With a leap, as though it 
 were alive, the canoe rushed at the island and ran half 
 its length out of the water, a sound of splintering wood 
 tellins: that its bottom had suffered in so doincf. 
 
 With feelings of indescribable relief the boys sprang 
 out upon the solid ground, and instantly embracing one 
 another, danced about in sheer exuberance of joy. 
 
 The rapids were cheated of their prey, and the worst of 
 the peril was passed. 
 
 Having thus given vent to their feelings, they pro- 
 ceeded to examine the canoe, and were glad to find that its 
 bottom was not very badly injured, and could be easily 
 repaired. 
 
 Their next thought was, how could they get off the 
 
ON THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS. 
 
 355 
 
 island ? They were safe enough there for the present, 
 of course, and they had sufficient provisions, if carefully 
 husbanded, to keep them from starving for three or four 
 days. 
 
 But they had no idea of playing the part of Robinson 
 Crusoe and his man Friday, even for that short space of 
 time, if it could possibly be helped. So they got on the 
 edge of the island nearest Britannia, and Alec held up his 
 paddle with his coat on it as a signal of distress, while 
 both shouted at the top of their voices. 
 
 Their shouts were drowned in the ceaseless roar of the 
 rapids ; but after a while their signal of distress was ob- 
 served, and soon a crowd had gathered on the shore oppo- 
 site them, and there was great excitement. 
 
 Everybody was eager to help, but nobody knew just 
 what to do. All sorts of schemes were suggested for the 
 rescue of the boys, the most feasible of which was to have 
 a large boat go out above the rapids and anchor there, and 
 then send down a smaller one secured by a rope, with 
 which it could be hauled back again, for no boat could by 
 any possil ility be rowed back against that mighty current. 
 
 But there were two difficulties in the way of this plan. 
 There was no boat at the village big enough and no rope 
 long enough for the purpose, so some other way must 
 needs be devised. 
 
 The morning wore away and the afternoon shadows 
 lengthened without anything being done, and it looked as 
 though the boys would have to stay on the island all 
 night, when the cry was raised that there was a raft com- 
 
356 
 
 OlSr THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS. 
 
 ■ ii 
 
 ■p. 
 
 inj^ clown ; and sure enough tlio great towing steamer, 
 followed by a huge raft of square timber, hove into sight 
 far up the lake. 
 
 The problem of the boys' deliverance need no longer 
 be worried over. The raftsmen would solve it in short 
 measure. 
 
 The big raft reached Britannia just long enough before 
 dark to allow of the rescue being accomplished. The mo- 
 ment the foreman heard of the boys' situation he detailed 
 six of his best men, three being Indians and three French 
 Canadians, to bring them off. 
 
 Landing their largest bonne, a kind of boat peculiar to 
 lumbering, being flat on the bottom and very liigh at both 
 bow and stern, they rowed off briskly towards the rapids, 
 laughing and chaffing one anotlier, and evidently deeming 
 it quite a bit of fun, while the crowd gathered on the 
 shore watched their every movement with breathless at- 
 tention. 
 
 Managing their clumsy-looking but most seaw^orthy 
 craft with perfect skill, they made an easy landing on the 
 island, took the boys on board, and then weaving their hats 
 to the admiring onlookers, continued gaily on into the very 
 midst of the boiling rapids, the big bonne bobbing about 
 like a cork, seemingly at the entire mercy of the waters, 
 yet all the time being cleverly steered by her crew, and 
 after an exciting passage, during which the boys hardly 
 breathed, shooting out into the smooth stretch below the 
 rapids without having taken so much as a single drop of 
 water on board. 
 
" 
 
 ON THE EDGE OF THE RAPIDS. 
 
 357 
 
 A hearty cheer broke from the delighted spectators at 
 this happy conchision to tlie affair, and a few moments 
 hiter the boys were in their midst, receiving the embraces 
 of tlieir overjoyed parents and tlie vigorous congratulations 
 of the others. 
 
 The rescuing raftsmen were well rewarded for their 
 timely service, and Master Lon learned a lesson in caution 
 that he is not likely soon to forget. 
 
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 THEOS TRIUMPH. 
 
 Page 368. 
 
THEO'S TOBOGGANING TlllUMPH. 
 
 '"T^HE boys of Bridgetown were all agreed that there 
 A liad not been such a winter for tobojjriraninir since 
 they could remember; and if they ever thought of the 
 weather-clerk at all, it m'us Avitli feelings of the deepest 
 gratitude. 
 
 In the first jilace, it began with a frost th d made the 
 ground as hard as iron, and the waters were, in Bible lan- 
 guage, "hid as with a stone." Then upon this came one 
 fall of snow after the other, until there was nothing left to 
 wish for in that direction, and the boys were thoroughly 
 content. 
 
 Not only was the weather-clerk thus considerate, but 
 nature had already been kind enough to provide them with 
 the finest site for a toboggan slide imaginable. The placid 
 stream which bore the name of Bass River spread out into 
 a broad reach just before it came to their town, and on one 
 side the bank rose up into a steep bluff wL^. j grass-grown 
 face, slanting right down to the water's edge without a 
 break or gully, seemed intended for no other purpose than 
 to afford the boys a splendid coasting-ground when well 
 sheeted with snow. And the boys knew right well how 
 
ppa 
 
 360 
 
 rffEO'S TOBOGGANING TRIUMPH. 
 
 (i?! 
 
 i ni 
 
 I f 5 1 
 
 to appreciate tlieir privileges, 1 can assure you. To go out 
 to Bass River Blutt' on a Saturday afternoon was to witness 
 a scene well worth seeing. The hill would fairly swarm 
 with boys and girls enjoying themselves to the top of their 
 bent. From Patsey Kchoc, the washer- woman's ragged 
 urchin, with his curious apology for a sled constructed out 
 of old barrel staves, on which he dared to take only short 
 slides from a little w^ay up the hill, and which he sorely 
 regretted was not big enough to carry liim and Katey at 
 the same time, to Ralph Masterton, the eldest son of the 
 rich and haughty judge, with his big toboggan, so finely 
 varnished and comfortably cushioned, that could take four 
 persons down every trip, the j'oung people of the town 
 would turn out and make the valley ring with their 
 lauo'hter and shouting*:. 
 
 One of the most regular attendants at Bass River Blulf 
 was Theo Ross, who, with his widowed mother, lived in a 
 cozy cottage on the opposite side of the river from the 
 town, and consequentl}^ was looked upon as one of the 
 country boys, although he came in every day to the high 
 school. There was a good deal of rivalry between the boys 
 of Ih'ido-otown and those who lived in the scattered settle- 
 ment across the river, which was known as Riverside — a 
 rivalry that led to all sorts of matclies, and now and then 
 to fights. No one took more heart}' interest in this rivalry 
 than Theo. He was a strong, stout, hardy lad of sixteen, 
 up to anything, as the saying is, and was generally looked 
 upon by the Riverside boys as their leader. One Saturday 
 evening he came home in high spirita. 
 
TIIEO'S TOBOGGANING IRIUMPH. 
 
 ?6i 
 
 " Hoop- Jc-dooden-do ! " he shouted, as he hurst into the 
 liouse. 
 
 " Why, Theo, what are you so excited about ? " inquired 
 his iiiotlier, looking up with a glad smile of welcome for 
 the hoy that Avas the joy and pride of her life. 
 
 " Excit<3d ? Perhaps I am ; and no wonder, for aren't 
 \vo going to have the biggest toboii;L;aninof match next 
 Saturday afternoon tliat you ever heard of ! " replied Tlieo, 
 at the same time giving his mother a hug and a kiss that 
 were a credit to botli, for it showed how thoroughly they 
 understood one another. 
 
 Mrs. Ross was a wise not less than a loving mother, and 
 one of the proofs of her w'isdom was the hearty interest 
 she took in her son's sports as well as in his studies. ]le 
 had lost his father when but a babv, and she had determined 
 to fill the vacant place to the best of Jier ability. So from 
 the very first she entered heartily into his anuisemcnts, 
 and made herself his companion as far as she could. Theo 
 never played ci'icket or lacrosse so well as when his mother 
 was looking on, and no applause was sweeter to liim than 
 the clapping of her hands. Ho therefore felt sure of an 
 attentive listener as he proceeded to luifold the cause of his 
 excitement. 
 
 " Well, you know, mother, the Brido'etown bovs have 
 been boasting all winter about their tol)oggans, and saying 
 that they can luu away from anything in iJivci'side, and 
 our fellows have been talking back at them, until both 
 sides linve begun lo feel pretty hot over it. AVe've had a 
 lot of races, but they didn't settle anything, because some- 
 
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 562 
 
 THEO'S TOBOGGANING TRIUMPH. 
 
 times the Bridgetown boys would win and sometimes the 
 Riverside ; so this afternoon I proposed to Ralph Masterton 
 that next Saturday afternoon he should bring a team of 
 four tobogganers from the town, and I would bring four 
 from the country, and we'd settle the question without any 
 more talk." 
 
 " Well, but, Thco dear, w^on't it be dangerous for so many 
 as eight to coast down together ? You might run into each 
 other," asked Mrs. Ross, rather anxiously. 
 
 " you dear innocent ! " laughed Theo, " that's not the 
 way we'll do at all. Only two will go down at a time. 
 You see there will be, first of all, four heats, and we'll 
 draw lots for our places in the heats ; then the four 
 winners will run arjainst each other, makin*'' two more 
 heats ; and then there will be a final heat in which the two 
 winners will run together, and that Avill decide." 
 
 " That seems a very good arrangement," said Mrs. Ross 
 approvingly. " Whose idea was it ? " 
 
 " Mostly mine, mother. It's the best way to get fair 
 play all round," answered Theo. 
 
 •' Will you have any difficulty in choosing your team ? " 
 
 '' Oh, not much. Walt Powell and Rob Sands will bo 
 on for sure. They have good toboggans, and they can steer 
 splendidly. The fourth chap I'll pick out through the 
 week." 
 
 " Well, Theo, you must do your best to win, for Til be 
 there to watch you." 
 
 " You may depend upon it I will, for your sake as much 
 as for the honour of Riverside," replied Theo, giving his 
 
 fr I 
 
THEO'S TOBOGGANING TRIUMni. 
 
 363 
 
 be 
 
 I 
 
 mother a loving kiss before he went off to his room for a 
 wash. 
 
 It seemed an awfully long week to the excited boys, 
 impatient for the coming contest. Tlieo had many appli- 
 cants for a position on his team, and having, after careful 
 deliberation, decided in favour of Fred Fellows, the four 
 boys had many an earnest consultation as to the best way 
 of securing success. On Friday evening the others brought 
 their toboggans over to Mrs. Ross's, and they spent an hour 
 or two in seeing that the bottoms were perfectly smooth, 
 +b-'^ gut lashings all taut, and the cushions secured beyond 
 tVo possibility of slipping. They were not a little disturbed 
 at some rumours that had reached them of Ralph Masterton 
 having sent off to the capital and got a new toboggan of 
 a kind just lately patented, wliich was made diifcrontly 
 from the others and reported to be much faster. If this 
 was true, Ralph had done rather a mean thing ; for although 
 not expressly stipulated, it was generally understood that 
 the toboggans to be used in the contest were such as they 
 already had, and not new ones imported for the purpose. 
 But, as Theo sensibly said, it was no use woriying until 
 they knew for certain; so, hoping for the best, they pai'ti'd 
 for the ni^ht. 
 
 Saturday proved as fine as could bii wished, and early in 
 the afternoon a crowd began to gather on Tjass River Blutf. 
 
 Besides the honour of the championship, Judge Masterton 
 had offered a handsome prize to the winner in the shape of 
 a silver cup, and there was no end to the excitement. The 
 judge himself and all his family were present. So, too, were 
 
3^4 
 
 THE \S TOB O G GA NING TRI U. MPH. 
 
 Theo'ij mother and the parents of the other contestants. 
 So, too, was Patsey Kehoe, holding Katey Avith one hand 
 and (h-ago-iiio- his forlorn little barrel-stave sled with the 
 otlier. Everybody in Bridgetown and Kiverside that could 
 come had come, and the flat top of the bluii' was fairly 
 black with spectators. 
 
 By three o'clock all the competitors had arrived. "When 
 Ralph Masterton appeared, Theo gave one sharp glance at 
 his toboggan, then turned to his companions with his face 
 the picture of indignation. 
 
 " It's true, boys, after all ; Ralph's got one of those new- 
 fangled affairs I read of in the papers. They saj'' they can 
 go like smoke. He hasn't done the square thing. But 
 we're not beaten yet, for all that!" and Tlieo looked 
 proudly down at his toboggan, wliich h;\d won as high a 
 reputation for speed as the owner had for skill. 
 
 It took half-an-hour to draw lots for the heats, and then 
 at last all was ready, and Judge Mastei'ton, acting as starter, 
 called out the first pair. Besides the steerer each tol)Oggan 
 was to carry another person for ballast. Fred Fellows 
 was the lirst of Tlieo's team to try his fortune. Amid 
 breathless silonce and suspense he put his toboggan in 
 [)osition beside his opponent's. 
 
 '■ Ar;' \'()U rcadx':*" ask<,Ml i\\v iuil'-e. I'Iicn' both nodded. 
 "Then — go ! ' and with half-a-dozen (piiek steps they 
 pushr-d their toboggans ovei' the brow of the hill, and 
 Hinging themselves on sideways with one leg extended for 
 a rudder, shot down the steep slopt; like arrows from a bow. 
 For some time they kept side by side. Tlien Fred was 
 

 TIIEO'S TOBOGGANING TRIUMPH. 
 
 365 
 
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 jiey 
 
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 Ifur 
 
 )W. 
 
 |vns 
 
 seen to swerve and slew, and the Bi'idgetown boy to slip 
 ahead. The advantage was not ninch, but he kept it to 
 the end, and the first heat went against Riverside. The 
 Bridgetown boys cheered lustily, and the Riversiders looked 
 ratlier glum, until the next lieat was run and resulted in 
 a win for the latter, thus making things even. The River- 
 side entry took the thir<l heat also, and their hopes ran 
 high, but cooled down aoain when the fourth heat went to 
 Bridgetown. 
 
 The result of the first round, accordingly, was that two 
 of each side had won their heats, Theo and Ralph being, of 
 course, among the winners. The excitement grew more 
 and more intense as, after a little breathing-space, the 
 second round was called. 
 
 Curiously enough, Theo and Ralph, did not come together 
 in this round either, having each another opponent, whom 
 they vanquished easily. As they stood on the hill together 
 at the conclusion of the round, Ralph turned to Th.eo with 
 a smile which betokened perfect coniidenen in himself, and 
 pointing to his new toboggan, said, — 
 
 " She's a hummer ; there's nothing on the bluff to touch 
 her." 
 
 " Do you think it was just the square thing, Ralph, to 
 get that toboggan when it was understood -'.^e were to race 
 vrith what we had alread}''?" usked Theo quietly. 
 
 " Pooh ! " replied Ralph, tossing his head defiantly ; 
 ''• everything's fair in love and war." 
 
 As he turned away and swung his toboggan roun 1, it 
 came in contact with Patsey Kehoe's barrel -stave sled. 
 

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 366 
 
 7y/v5"6> '5 TOBOGGANIXG TRIUMPH. 
 
 With a muttered oath Ralph sprang toward the obstruction, 
 and kicking it liigh into the air, the clumsy little thing 
 fell to the ii'round shattered into useless frag-ments. Poor 
 Patsey gave a cry as he saw his plaything demolished, but 
 Ralph's angry face silenced him again, and with tears 
 running down their cheeks he and Katey proceeded to 
 gather up the pieces. 
 
 " Get ready for the final heat," called out Judge Masterton. 
 
 Mrs. Ross pressed forward to Theo's side and whispered 
 in his ear, " Good luck to you, my boy." 
 
 With every eye upon them, Ralph and Theo drew their 
 toboggans into position. The difference between the two 
 toboggans was very marked. Theo's was a particularly 
 fine one of the ordinary kind, but Ralph's was made of 
 narrow hard -wood strips secured by screws instead of 
 thongs, and had a sharp racing look that could not be 
 mistaken. Just as the contestants were ready to receive 
 their ballast, Theo's glance fell upon Patsey Kehoe pressing 
 forward eagerly on the edge of the crowd, watching him 
 with his whole soul in his eyes. He knew well how in- 
 tensely the little fellow hoped for his success, and suddenly 
 an idea flashed into his mind which ca,used him to call out 
 to Judije Masterton, — • 
 
 " A minute's time, please, sir." 
 
 " All right, my lad," replied the judge. 
 
 Then, to the surprise of everybody, Theo, after whisper- 
 ins: to Walter Powell, whom he had first intended to be 
 his companion on the toboggan, and who now drew aside, 
 beckoned to Patsey Kehoe. Patsey approached bashfully. 
 
 
 
THEO'S TOBOGGANING TRIUMPH. 
 
 567 
 
 
 i 
 4 
 
 " Jump on in front, Patsey," said Theo briskly. " You're 
 to be my ballast this time." 
 
 There was a murmur of astonishment from the crowd as 
 the ragged little chap awkwardly got into his place, and 
 Theo did not miss the contemptuous curl of his opponent's 
 lip, but neither did he fail to catch the pleased, approving 
 look his mother sent him. A moment more and everything 
 was in readiness. The spectators held their breath as the 
 judge, lifting his right hand, asked, — 
 
 " Are you ready ? " and then bringing it down with a 
 crack into the other, shouted, " Then — go ! " 
 
 As if shot from a bow the two toboggans leaped over 
 the bluff and went rattling down the smooth slope side by 
 side and head to head. Down — down — they went ; Theo 
 and Ralph with iron grip and hard-pressed toe keeping 
 them straight in their course, and Patsey and the other 
 ballast clinging fast to the hand-rail. It was the proudest 
 moment of Patsey's life, and one that he would never 
 forget. Just as the toboggans, still perfectly even, ap- 
 proached the bottom of the d<'clivity where the track ran 
 out on to the bosom of the river, Ralph's struck a slight 
 obstacle, which caused it to swerve and then to slew. With 
 a vicious dig of his toe he tried to bring it round straight 
 again. In his hot haste ho overdid it, and the head swung 
 round Tjntil the toboijii'an went broadside to the track, 
 scratching, bumping, cracking, until like a flash it came 
 bang against the side of the slide, pitching its passengers 
 out upon their heads and splitting one of the thin strips 
 clean in two. In the meanwhile Theo and Patsey, amid 
 
368 
 
 THEO'S TOBOGGANING TRIUMPH. 
 
 tliu cheers of the crowd on tlio hill, were speeding smoothly 
 over the level ice, -winners by nearly a hundred yards. 
 
 Great was the delight of the Riverside folk at their 
 champion's victory, and many of the Bridgetownians joined 
 in congratidations too, for Ralph JMasterton was far from 
 popular among them. When Theo reached the top of the 
 blutF his mother hastened to him, her face beaming wdth 
 pleasure as she said, — 
 
 " I am very proud of your victory, Theo, but I am 
 prouder still of the heart that prompted you to take Patsey 
 Kehoe." 
 
 / 
 
 THE END. 
 
loothly 
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 Patsey