^■v> A^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) y A 1.0 I.I IM 12 llf 1^ IIM 2.2 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 •« 6" ►■ V] 0 •i*i,»4te«**«i(fit, I , !■■' J — ■- f ^ FIT SNO^ AUT T. N] THE YOUXG FUR- TPv A D E Ft S; '^^ ■^f OR, SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS FROM THE FAR NORTH. BY ii wT:^:- iWA R M. BALLANTYNE, AUTUOIl OF "HUDSON BAV," "tHK COHAL I.SLAND,' " THE DOO CKUSOE," ETC. With Illustrations. T:k u b u : T. NELSON AND SONS, PATICRNOSTER ROW. EDINBURGH; AND NEW YOKK. 1881. wmMi A'lt iMr ?2 7 135299 I ^^LuAfJ-^yrX,..^y !X- 01 in aiore respects than lies for the trade carried on with the Indians. And the bales containing these artich^s are conveyed in boats up the rivers, carried past the waterfalls and rapids overland on the shoulders of stalwart voi/(vjcurs, and, finally, landed at lied River, after a rough trip of many weeks' duration. The colony was founded in 1811, by the Earl of Selkirk, [jreviously to which it had been a trading post of the Fur Company. At the time of which we write, it contained about 5000 souls, and extended upwards of fifty miles along the Red and Assinaboine river^s, which streams su|> SNOWFLAKES AND SLJNBKAMS I j)lied the setthjrs with a variety of excellent ti«h. Tlie banks were clothed with line trees ; and iniinediately he- hind tlie settlement lay the great })rairies, which extend in undulating waves — almost entirely devoid of shrnb or tree — to the base of the liocky INIountai.ns. Although far removed from the civilised world, and containing within its precincts much that is savage, and very litth? that is refined. Red lliver is quite a po[)u- lous })aradise, its compared with the desolate, solitary establishments of the Hudson's Bay Fur Company. These lonely dwellings of the trader are scattered far and wide over the whole continent — north, south, east, and west. Their po})ulation generally amounts to eight or ten men — seldom to thirty. They are planted in the thick of an uninhabited desei't — their next neighbours being from two to five hundred miles olf — their occasional visitors, bands of wandering Indians — and the sole object of their existence being to trade the furry hides of foxes, martens, beavers, badgers, bears, bufialoes, and wolves. It will not, then, be deemed a matter of wonder, that the gentle- men wlio have charge of these establishments, and who, [)ercliance, may have spent ten or twenty years in them, should look u})on the colony of lied lUver as a s])ecies of Elysium — a sort of haven of rest, in whicli they may lay their weary heads, and spend the remainder of their days in peaceful felicity, free from the cares of a residence among Avild beasts and wild men. Many of the retiring traders prefer casting their lot in Canada ; but not a few of them smoke out the remainder of their existence in this colony — es})ecially those who, having left home as boys fifty or sixty years before, cannot reasonably cx})ect to Gnd the friends of their childhood where they left them, v„- 'K;i,'W«i«v'l**^J FROM THE FAK KOlvTIl. 3 atid cannot hope to ro-niodel tustos and lialjits long nnr- tured in tli(3 backwoods, so a-s to relish the uiaunei'S and customs of civilised society. Such an one was ohl Fraidc Kennedy, wlio, sixty yeaivs before the date of our story, ran away from scliool in Scotland ; got a severe thrashing from his fathei* for so doing, and, having no motluir in whose sympathising bosom he could weep out his sorrow, ran away from home, went to sea, ran away from liis sliij) whih^ sIk; lay at anchor in the harbo\ir of New York, and after leading n wandering, unsettled life for several years — during which he had been alternately a clerk, a daydabourer, a store-keeper, and a village-schoolmaster — In; wound n\) by entering the sei^vice of the Hudson's Bay Com})any, in which he obtained an insight into savage life, a com- fortable fortune, besides a half-breed wife and a large family. Being a man of great energy and courage, and, nu)re- over, possessed of a large, powerful frame, he was sent to one of the most distant })osts on the Mackenzie lliver, as being admirably suited for the display of his powei>5 both mental and physical. Here the small-pox broke out among the natives ; and, besides carrying off huiidreds of these poor creatures, robbed Mr Kennedy of all his children save two, Charles and Kate, whom we have already introduced to the reader. About the same time the council wdiich is annually held at lied Biver in spring, for the j)urpose of arranging the affaii's of the country for the ensuing year, thought proper to appoint Mr Kennedy to a still more outlandish part of the country — as near, in fact, to the North Bole as it was possible for mortal man to live, — ;iiid sent ]\\w ,.,-i*iv-.'<*Hf..,i; 1 6 S.VOWFF^AKKS AND SHNHEAMft an order to ])i*ocee(l to his destination without loss of time. On receiving this coniniunication, Mv Kennedy upset his cliair, stiUiijxHl liis foot, ground liis t(>eth, and vowed, in tlie lu;aring of liis wife and cliildreii, tliat, sooiu^r than obey the mandate, he wouhl see the governors and council of liu])ei*t's Land hanged, (juartered, and l)()iled down into tallow ! Ebullitions of this kind were peculiar to Frank Kennedy, and meant notJmig. They were simjtly the safety-valves to liis su])eral)undant ii'c — and, like safety-valvc^s in general, made much noise but did no damage. It was well, however, on such occusions to kee}) out of the old fur-trader's way, for he had an irresistible propensity to hit out at whatever stood before him — especially if the object stood on a level with his own eyes and wore whiskers. On second thoughts, how ever, he sat down before his writing-table, took a .sheet of bhie niled foolscap pajier, seized a quill which he had mended six months previously, at a time when he hap- pened to be in high good -humour, and wrote as follows : — To the Governor and Council of llupert's Land, Hed llivcr Settlement. FoiiT Paskisegun, June loth, 18 — . Gentlemen, — I have the honour to acknowledge re- ceijit ol' your favour of 2Gth Ajiril last, appointing me to the charge of Peel's Iliver, and directing me to strike out new channels of tratle in that quarter. In rc])ly I have to state that 1 shall have the honour t(^ fulfil your instructions by taking my departure in a light canoe as soon as possi})le. At the same time I beg humbly to submit, that the state of my health is such as to render it expedient for me to retire from the service, and J FROM THE FAR NORTH. 7 herewith bog to liand in my r(?signatioii. 1 shall hope to lie relieved early next spring. — I have the honour to be, gentlemen, your most obedient humble servant, F. Kennedy. I 7" ■% "There!" exclaimed the old gentleman, in a tone that would lead one to suppose he had signed the death- warrant, and so had irrevocably fixed the certain de- .stnictioii, of the entire council — "there!" said he, rising from his chair and sticking the quill into the ink-bottle with a dab that s})lit it up to the feather, and so rendered it hors de combat for all time coming. To this letter the council gave a short reply, accepting his resignation, and appointing a successor. On the following spring, old IVlr Kennedy embarked his wife and children in a bark canoe, and in ])rocess of time landed them safely in Red Kiver Settlement. Here he pur- chased a house with six acres of land, in which he planted a variety of useful vegetables, and built a summei'-house, after the fashion of a conservatory, where he was wont to solace himself for hours together with a pipe, or, rather, with dozens of pipes, of Canada twist tobacco. After this he put his two children to school The settlement was, at this time, fortunate in having a most excellent academy, which was conducted by a very estimable man. Charles and Kate Kennedy, being obedient and clever, made rapid progress under his judi- cious management ; and the only fault that he had to find with the young people was, that Kate was a little too quiet and fond of books, while Charley was a little too riotous and fond of fun. When Charles arrived at the age of fifteen and Kate ^^m^: 8 SNOWFLAKES AN"D ST'NRKAMS fittainod to fourteen years, old ]\[r Kennedy went intc liiis consei'vatory, locked the door, sat down on an eiisy chair, filled a long clay ))i])e with his Ixjloved tobacco, sTiK^ked vigoronsly for ten miimtos, and fell ftist asleej). Fn this condition he remained until the pipe fell from his lips and hroke in fragments on the floor. He then rose, filled another pipe, and sat do%vii to meditate on the sub- ject that had brought him to his smoking apartment, " '^riiere's my wife," said he, looking at the bowl of his ))ip(', as if he were addressing himself to it, *' she's getting too old to bo looking after everything herself (/)?/j/"), and Kate's getting too old to be humbugging any longer with books ; besides she ought to he at home learning to keep house, and help her mother, and cut the baccy {puff), and that young scamp Charley should be entering the service (piifj') ; he's clever enough now to trade beaver and bears from the red-skins, besides he's {piff) a young rascal, and I'll be bound does nothing but lead the other boys mto{puff) mischief — although, to be sure, the master does say he's the cleverest fellow in the school ; but he must be reined u]) a bit now. I'll clap on a double curb and martingale. I'll get him a situation in the counting-room at the fort {piij}'), where he'll have his nose held tight to the grind- stone. Yea, I'll fix both their flints to-morrow," — and old Mr Kennedy gave vent to another puff so thick and long, that it seemed as if all the previous puffs had concealed themselves up to this moment within his capacious chest, and nished out at last in one thick and long-continued stream. By " fixing their flints," ]\Ir Kennedy meant to express the fact, that he intended to place his children in an entirely new sphere of action ; and, with a view to tliii^ n\OM THE FAR NOUTIf. 9 lit intc 111 easy obacco, asloej). rom liis< 311 rose, ,he sub- rtment, [ of his getting /), aiul ;er Avitli to keep if), and service id bears eal, and to (7)^//) say he's e reined ■tingale. tlie foii 3 crind- -and old nd long, Dncealed IS chest, iiitinued express ti in an to tliia, he ordered out his horse and cariole* on the following nioniing, went up to the school, which waa about ten miles distant from his abode, and brought his children home with him the same evening. Kate was now for- mally installed as housekeeper and tobacco-cutter ; wliilo Charley was told that his future destiny was to wield tliu quill in the service of the Hudson's Bay Company, and that he might take a week to think over it. Quiet, warni-h<>arted, alfcctionate Kate was overjoyed at tlie thought of being a helj) and comfort to her old father and mother ; but reckless, joyous, good-humoured, hare- brained Charley was cfist into the depths of despair at tlio idea of spending the live-long day, and day after day, for years it might be, on the to[) of a long-k'gged stool. In fact, poor Charley said that he " would rather become a buffalo than do it." Kow, this was very wrong of Charley, for, of course, he didn't mean it. Indeed, it is too much a habit among little bovs, ave, and among grown-up ])eo})le too, to say what they don't mean ; as, no doubt, you are aware, dear reader, if you })ossess half the self-knowledge we give you credit f^r ; and we cannot too strongly remonstrate with ourself and others against the practice — leading, as it does, to all sorts of absurd ex- aggei-ationa, .such as gravely asserting that we are hroiling hot, when we are sim[)ly rathe?' icarm, or, more than lialj dead with fatigne, when we are merely venj tired. How- ever, Charley said that he would rather be " a buffalo than do it,'" and io we feel bound in honour to record the fact, Charley and Kate were warmly attached to each other. Moreover, the;/- had been, ever since they could walk, in the habit of mingling their little joys and sorrows in each ♦ A sort of Bleiph, 10 SVOWFLAKRS AVD SI^NMFAMS otlier's boHoius ; and although, as years flow paat, the} gnuln.'illy ceased to sol) in each other's arras at every little mishaj), tliey did not ccJiMe to interchange their inmost thouglits, and to niinglo their tears when occasion called them forth. They knew tlie power, the inexi)ressible sweetness, of symj)athy. They undei^stood, experiment- ally, the conifoit and joy that flow from obedience to that blessed commandment, to " rejoice with those that do re- joice, and weep with th(we that weep." It was natural, tlierefore, tliat on Mr Kennedy announcing his decrees, Charley and Kate should hasten to some retired t pot where tliey could connnune in solitude j the elFect of which coinnuniing was, to reduce them to a somewhat calmer and rather hap})y state of mind. Charley's sorrow was blunted l^y sympatliy with Kate's joy, and Kate's joy was subdued by sympathy wiili Charley's sorrow ; so that, after the flrst eftervescing burst, they settled down into a calm and comfoi-table state of flatness, with very red eyes and excecxlingly pensive minds. We must, however, do Charley the justice to say, that the red eyes applied only to Kate ; for, althougli a tear or two could, without much coaxing, be induced to hop over his sun- burnt cheek, he had got beyond that period of life when boys are addicted to (we must give the word, though not pretty, because it is eminently expressive) blubbering. A week later found Charley and his sister seated on the lump of blue ice where they were first introduced to the reader, and where Charley announced his unalterable resolve to run away ; foilo^ving it up with the statement, that that was " the end of it." He was quite mistaken, however, for that was by no means the end of it. In fact it was only the beginning of it, as we shall see hereafter. I FROM THE 1<'AI{ NORTH 11 Ht, the) ;ry little • inmost )U caUed pressible )erimtnit- ;e to that lat do re- i natural, 3 decrees, tired t pot b of wliicli lat calmer orrow was Kate's joy orrow ; so ttled dowu with very We must, le red eyes two could, er Ills sun- )f life when though not )bering. V seated on troduced to unalterable e statement, te mistaken, it. In fact !e hereafter. CHAPTER 11. TliC old fur tnider pruleavoui's to " fix " his son's " Hint," and dncla tlio Itdnt; more diftloult to do than ho exjuH'ti'd. Near the centre of tlie colony of Red River; the stream from whicli the settlement derives its name is joined by another, called the Assinaboine. About li\(! or six hundred yards from the })oint where this union takes jtlace, and on the banks of the latter stream, stands the Hudson's Bay Comi)any's trading post, Fort Garry. It is a massive square building of stone. Four high and thiclc walls enclose a space of ground on which are built six or eiffht wooden houses, some of which are used as dvvellinixs tor the servants of the Hudson's Bay Company, and others as stores, wherein are contained the furs, th(^ jn-o- visions which are sent annually to various })arts of the country, and the goods (such as cloth, guns, powder and shot, blankets, twine, axes, knives, (fee, ifec.) with which the fur-trade is carried on. Although Red River is a peaceful colony, and not at all likely to be assaulted by the ])Oor Indians, it was, nevertheless, deemed prudent by the traders to make seme show of power ; and so, at the corners of the fort, four round bastions of a very ini}X)Bing appearance were built, from the embi-nzures of wliich several large black-muzzled guns ])rotrudetl. No one ever conceived the idea of firiniir these engine?! of war ; and, indeed, it is highly probable that such an 12 SNOVVFLAKKH AND SUNUEAMS I. attempt woi'kl have been atteiulctl witli consequences much more clreaiU'ul to tlioso behind than to those wlio might chance to l)e in front of tl»e guns. Nevertlieh'ss, they were imi)Osing, and harmonised well with the fhig- stalij which was ti«e only oilier militaiy symptom al)out tlie place. This latter was used on particular occasions, sucli a.s the anival or departure of a brigade of boats, for the purpose of displaying the fokls of a red flag, on which were the letters II. B. C. The fort .stood, as we have said, on the banks of the Assinaboine river, on the opposite side of which the huui was somewhat wooded, though not heavily, with oak, mai)le, poi)lai', aspens, and willows, Avhile, at the back of the fort, the great prairie rolled out like a green seo to tlu; horizon, and far beyond that again to the base of the Ilocky jNIountains. The plains at this time, however, were a sheet of unbroken snow, and the river a mass of «olid ice. It was noon on the day following that on which our friend Charley had threatened rebellion, when a tall elderly man might have been seen .standing at the back gate of Fort Garry, gazing wistfully out into the praii-ie in the direction of the lower part of the settlement. He was watching a small speck which moved rapidly over the snow in the direction of the fort. " It's very like our friend Frank Kennedy," said he to himself (at least we presume so, for there was no one else within earshot to whom he could have said it, except the door-post, which, every one knows, is proverbially a deaf subject), " No man in the settlement drives so furiously. I shouldn't wonder if he ran against the corner of i\w new fence now. Ha ! just so — there he goes ! " I m :^i«»,-«-i6«.Hly offended with his son, although he did shower on him a considerable amount of abuse. On the contraiy, he loved him very much. But it was the old man's nature to give way to little bursts of passion on almost every occasion in which his feelings were at all excited. These bui*sts, however, were like the little putfs that rijtple the surface of the sea on ii calm suiumcr's day. "i'hey wei-p - A i :3 -n i ■4 I FROM THE FAI{ NORTH. 15 tlie use wit] I ntuvc Bvei'}' These } tlio WCl'P I over in a second, iuul lel'l his go(jd-humoure<], rougli, candid coniitonauce in unrutlled .serenity. Charley knew tiiis well, and loved his fatlier tenderly, so tliat his con science frequently smote him tor raising his anger so often; and he over and over again promised liis sister Kate to do his best to refrain from doing anything that was hkely to annoy the old man in future. But alas ! Charley's resolves, like those ^'^" many other boys, were soon for- gotten, and his father .s equanimity was upset generally two or three times a-day ; but after the gust was over, tlie fur-trader would kiss his son, call him a " rascal," and send him off to fdl and fetch his pi^x;. Mr Grant, who was in charge of Fort Garry, led the way to his smoking apartment, where the two were soon seated in front of a roaring log-fire, emulating each otlier in the manufacture of smoke. " Well, Kennedy," said Mr Grant, throwing himself back in his chair, elevating his chin, and emitting a long, thin stream of white vapour from his lips, thnnigh which ho gazed at his friend com})lacently, " Well, Kennedy, to what fortunate chance am I indebted for this visit 1 It is not often that we have the pleasure of seeing you here." ]Mr Kennedy created two largo volumes of smoke, which, by means of a vigorous puff, lie sent rolling over towards his friend, and said, " Charley." " And what of Cliarley ?" said INlr Grant, wIlIi a smile, for he was well aware of the boy's propensity to fun, and of the father's desire to curb it. " The fact is," replied Kennedy, " that Charley must l)e broke. He's the ^vildest colt I ever had to tame, but rU do it— I will— that's a fact." 16 SNOWl'^LAKES AND SUNBEAMS I ir*^ If Charley's subjugation had depended on the rapidity with wliich the little white clouds proceeded from his sire's mouth, there is no dou})t that it would have been a " fact" in a very short time, for they rushed from him witli the violence of a high wind. Long liabit had made the old trader and his pi})e not only inseparable com- panions, but part and ]>arcel of each other — so intimately connected that a change in the one wtis sure to pi-oducc a sympathetic change in the other. In the present instance, the little clouds rapidly increased in size and number as the old g(?ntleman thought on the obstinacy o^ his "colt." " Yes," he continued, after a moment's silence, " I've made up my mind to tame him, and I want you, ]Mi' Grant, to help me." Mr Grant looked as if he would rather not undertake to lend his aid in a work that was evidently ditHcult ] but, lu3ing a good-natured man, he said, " And how, friend, can I assist in the operation ?" " "Well, you see, Charley's a good fellow at bottom, and a clever fellow too — at least so says the sclioolmaster — though I must confess, that so far as my experience goes, he's only clever at finding out excuses for not doing what I want him to. But still, I'm told he's clever, and can use his pen well ; and I know for certain that he can use Ills tongue well. So I want to get him into the service, and have him placed in a situation where he shall have to stick to his desk all day. In fact, I want to have him broken in to work ; for you've no notion, sir, how that boy talks about bears and buffaloes and badgers, and life in the woods among the Indians. I do believe," continued the old gentleman, waxing warm, " that he would willingly -""•■■ -«""«*.*-;, FliO-M THE FAR NORTH. 17 J l!5 go into the woods to-morrow, if i would let him, and never shew his nose in the settlement again, lie's (juite incorrigible. But I'll tame him yet ; I will ! " Mr Kennedy followed this up with an indignant grunt, and a puff of smoke, so thick, and propelled with such vigour, that it rolled and curled in fantastic evolu- tions towards the ceiling, as if it were unable to control itself with delight at the absolute certainty of Charley being tamed at last. Mr Grant, however, shook his head, and remained for five minutes in profound silence, during which time the two friends puffed in concert, until they began to grow quite indistinct and ghost-like in the thick atmosphere. At last he broke silence. " My opinion is, that you're wrong, ]\Ir Kennedy. No doubt, you know the disposition of your son better than I do ; but even judging of it from what you have said, I'm qmte sure that a sedentary life will ruin him." " Ptuin him ! Humbug ! " said Kenncidy, who never failed to express his opinion at the shortest notice, and in the ])lainest language, — a fact so well known by his friends, that they had got into the habit of taking no potice of it. "Humbug!" he repeated, "perfect hum- bug ! You don't mean to tell me, that the way to break him in, is to let him run loose and wild whenever and wherever he pleases ?" " By no means. But you may rest assured that tying him down won't do it." "Nonsense!" said Mr Kennedy, testily ; "don't tell me. Have I not broken in young colts by the score ? and don't I know that the way to fix their flints, is to clap on a good strong curb ?" 18 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBliAMS I -m *' If yoii had travelled farther south, friend," replied Mv Grant, "you would have seen the Spaniards of ]\Iexico break in their wihl horses in a "very dilferent way ' ^or, after catching one with the lasso, a fellow gets ou his back, and gives it the rein and the wJiip — aye, and tlie spur, too ; and before that race is over, there is no need for a cui-b." "What!" exclaimed Kennedy, "and do you mean to argue from that, that I should let Charley nin — and he/p liini too 1 Send him off to the woods with gun and bhmket, canoe and tent, all complete V The old gentle- man puffed a furious puff, and broke into a loud sar- castic laugh. " No, no," interrupted Mr Grant ; " I don't exactly mean that ; but I thiidv that you might give him his way for a year or so. He's a fine, active, generous fellow ; and after tlie novelty wore off, he would be in a mucli better frame of mind to listen to your proposals. Besides," (and Mr Grant smiled expressively), " Charley is some- what like his father. He has got a will of his own ; and if you do not give him his way, I very much fear that he'll » "What?" inquired Mr Kennedy, abruptly. " Take it," said Mr Grant. The puff that burst from Mr Kennedy's lips, on hearing this, ^oidd have done credit to a thirty-six pounder. " Take it ! " said he. " He'd bette?^ not." The latter part of this s})eech was not, in itself, of a nature calculated to convey much ; but the tone of the old trader's voice, the contraction of his eyebrows, and, above all, the overwhelming flow of cloudlets that followed, imparted to it a significance that induced the belief FROM •'^IIK I'AK NOIITH. 10 that Cliarky's taking his osv ii way would 1k> productivo of more terrific coiistM[ueiices tliaii it was in the power of the most luglily imaginative man to conceive. "There's his sister Kate, now," continued tlu^ ohl gentleman ; " she's as gentle and hiddaMe as a land). I've only to say a word, and she's ofl' like a shot to do my I'idding ; and she does it with such a sweet smile too," There was a touch of pathos in the old trader's \'oiee as he said this. He was a man of strong feeling, and as im- pulsive in his tenderness as in his wrath. " J>ut that rascal, Charley," he continued, "is quite dilhu-ent. He's obstinate as a mide. To be sure, he has a good temp(3r ; and I must say for him he never goes into the sulks, which is a comfort, for, of all things in the world, sulking IS the most childish and contem[)tible. He generalhi does what I bid him, too. But he's always getting into scrapes of one kind or other. And during the last week, not- wnthstanding all I can say to him, he won't admit that the best thing for him is to get a place in your counting-room, with the prospect of rapid promotion in the service. Very odd. I can't understand it at all ; " and Mr Kennedy lieaved a deep sigli. " Did you ever explain to him the prospects that he would have in the situation you propose? for him ] " inquired ]\Ir Grant. " Can't say I ever did." " Did you ever point out the probable end of a life spent in the woods 1 " " No." " Nor suggest to him that the apj)ointment to the office here would only be temporary, and to see how he got on in it I " ^;„^.*««'<<'^'-«^. 20 SNO\VFLAKi:S AND SUNIiKAM^ '**< 1 i > " Cca'tainly not." ** Then, my dear sir, I'm not snrpris(!(l that Churlo)- rebels. Yon have left him to suppose that, once placed at tlie desk here, he is a prisoner for life. IJut see, there he is," said Mr Grant, pointing, as he spoke, towards the subject of tlieir conversation, who was })assing the window at the moment, " h't nie call liim, and I feel certain that lie will listen to i-eason in a few minutes." " Hum])h ! " ejaculated Mr Kennedy, " you may try." In another minute Charley had ])een summoned, and was seated, caj) in hand, near the door. " Charlej'', my boy," began INIr Grant, standing with his back to the fire, his feet pretty wide apart, and his coat-tails under his arms — " Charley, my boy, your father has just been speaking of you. ITe is very anxious that you should enter the service of the Iludson's Bay Com- pany ; and as you are a clever boy and a good penman, we think that you w^onld be likely to get on if [)laced for a year or so in our office here. I need scarcely point out to you, my boy, that in such a position you would be sure to obtain more ra})id promotion, than if you wxre placed in one of the distant outposts, where you would have very little to do, and perhaps little to eat, and no one to converse with, except one or two men. Of course, we w^ould merely ])lace you here on trial to see how you suited us ; and if you prove steady and diligcuit, there is no saying how fast you might get on. Why, you might even come to fill nii/ place in course of time ! Come now, Charley, what think you of it?" Charley's eyes had been cnst on the ground while Mr Grant was speai^ilng. He now- raised them, looked at his father, then at his interrogatoi', and said — FllOM TIIK FAR NOUTII. ^1 you there you tune ! e Mr at liis " It m very kind of you both io Ix' so anxions about ii\y pros})ects. 1 thauk you, imleed, very much ; but J" — ii *' Don't like the desk T' said liis t'atht^r, iu an anrecipitately and vanished. " So," said Mr Grant, not very sure whether to laugh or b(! angry at the result of their united ellbrts, "you'vt! settled the rpiestion now, at all events." Frank Kennedy said nothing, but tilled another }»ipe, sat doggedly down in front of the fire, and s})«'edily eiivelopcul himself, and his friend, and all that the room contained, in thick im})enetrable clouds of smoke. Meanwhile his worthv son rushed olF in a state of gi'eat glee. He had often heai-d the voi/af/eiirs of Rdi] River dilate on the delights of roughing it in the w(^ods, and his heart had bounded as they spoke of dangers encountered and overcome among the rapids of the Far Xorth, or with the bears and bison-bulls of the })rairie, hut never till now had he heard his father corroborate tlu'ir testimony by a recitiil of his own actual experience; ; and although the old gentleman's intention was un- iloul)tedly to damp the boy's spirit, his eloipience had exactly the opposite effect — so tliat it was with a lio[) and a shout that he V)urst into the counting-room, with the occupants of which Charley was a special favourite. 24 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS I CIIAJTER in. Tlie Countiiitj-rooiTi. ■11 Every one knows tJie general appearance of a counting- room. There are one or two peculiar features about such a])artnientB that are quite unmistakable and very cnaracteristic ; a.rl the counting-room at Fort Garry, akhougli many hundred miles distant from other speci- mens of its race, and, from the peculiar circumstances o( iis })osition, not th(;refore likely to bear them much resemblance, possessed one or two features of similarity, in the shape of two large desks and sevend very tall stooLi besides sundry ink-bottles, rulers, books, and sheets of blotting- i)a])er. But there were other imple- ments there, savouring strongly of the backwoods and savage life, whicli merit more pafticular notice. The room itself v.^as small, and lighted by two little windows, which o})eued into the court-yard. The entire apartment was made of wood. The floor was of uni)ainted fir boards. The walls were of the same material, painted blue from the floor u}; wards to about three feet, where the blue was unceremoniously stopped short by a stripe of bright red, above which the somewhat fanciful decorator had laid on a coat of pale yellow ; and the ceiling, by way of variety, was of a dco\) ochn^. As the occupants of Red lliver cilice were, howev(n', addicted to the use uf tobaeco T^ FBI THE FAR NORTH. C.'J oimting- «s ahout ud very -J Garry, er speci- ;anccs ol 11 mucli niilarity, VQvy tall ks, and r im})le- )(h1,s and wo little 10 entire ])aintetl painted t, where a stripe lecorator , l)y way :s of llei] tobacco n ■m and fnllow candles, tin.- origii ' oolour ♦" tlu' - iliug had vanished entirely, and that ( '' ilie waJ » had considerably changed. There were three dooi's iu the room (besides tlic door of entrance), each opening into another apartment, where the three clerks wore wont to coni"t the favour of ]\lor|>h( iv after the laboni-s of the day. No carpets graccnl the floors of any of these i-ooms, and, with the exception of the paint afore-mentioned, no ornament whatever broke the pleasing uniformity of the secnie. This was compensated, however, to some extent, by several scarlet sashes, bright- coloured shot-belts, and gay portions of winter costume peculiar to the conntiy, which depended iVom sundry nails in the bedroom walls; and, as the thn^'' dehors ahvayy stood open, these objects, together with one or two fowling-]>ieces and canoe-paddles, formed culiar. 'J'hcro were thr(>e — corresponding to the hiMlrooms. The senior wms a tall, hroad-shonlde tsd, mu3- ciil.ir nian — a Sootrhiiiaii — v(u*y good-lnnnourrd, yet a iiKin whose under lip met the ui»])or with that peculiai degi*ee of pnjcision that indicated the presence of other r|iiMlities besides that of gooddnimour. Ift; Wiis Ixjok- keeper and accountant, and managed the allairs entrusted to his care witli the same (hogged ])ersev('rance with which he would have led an expedition of discovery to the North Pole. He was thirty or thereab(»uis. The second was a small man — also a Scotchman. It m curious to note how numerous Scotchmen are in the wilds of North America. This specimen was diminutive and sharp, INIoreover, he played the flute, — an accomplishment of which he was so proud, that he ord(!red out from England a tlutc of ebony, so elaborately enriched with silver keys that one's fingers aelied to behold it. Thin beautiful instrument, like most other instruments of a delicate nature, found the cliu^-ite too much for its con- stitution, and, soon after the winter began, split from top to bottom. I'eter ]\Iactavish, however, was a genius by nature, and a mechanical genius by tendtuicy; so that, instead of giving way to des]iair, he laboriously bound the flute together with waxed thread, which, although it could not restore it to its pristine eh^gance, enabled him to play with gi'eat efl'ect sundiy doleful airs, whose influence, when performed at night, usually sent his companions tr deep, or, failing this, drove them to distraction. The third iidiabitant of the office wr>s a rudfiy smooth i 4 5 PROM TIIR FAU NORTH 27 i reuders were, like ng to the •• od, miif- •ttl, yet a t |i(.'culiar 3 of other was l)ook- enti'iistcd vitli which ry to the liin. It ifl 1 the wihls lutivo and iplishment out from ;ht'd with it. TlliR neiits of a or its coTi- t from top gvuiiis by y ; so that, houiul tho ^li it could im to phiy infhience, 1 pan ion 3 tr ay sinootli ic oliinned youth of ahout fourteen, who liad left liomc seven mouths before, ill the hop(! (jf gratifying a desire to U'ad a wild life, wliicli ho had entertained ever since he read " Jack tho Giant Killer," aiul found liimself n>ost un- expectedly fa-steiied, during the greater part of eueh day, to a stool. His name was Harry Somerville, and a lino cheerful little ftdlow he was, — full of sj)irits, and curiously addicted to })oking and arranging the fire, at least every ten minutes — a propensity which tested the forbearanco of tho senior clerk rather severely, and would have sur- prised any one not aware of poor Harry's incurablo antipathy to tho desk, and the yeariring desire with wliieli he longed for physical action. Many was busily engaged with tlie refract(jry fire, when Charley, as stated at the conclusion of the; last chapter, burst into the loem. " Hallo !" he exclaimed, suspending liis opcn-ations foi a moment, "what's up?" "Nothing," .said Charley, " but father's temper, that's all. Ho gave me a splendid descripti(jn of his life in the woods, and then tlirew his pipe at me because I admired it too much." "Ho !" exclaimed Harry, making a vigorous thnist at the fire, " then you've no chance now." " No chance ! what do you mean V " Only that we are to have a wolf-liunt in the plains to- morrow, and if you've aggravated your father, he'll be taking you home to-night, that's all." " Oh, ! no fear of tliat," said Charley, with a look that seemed to imjdy that tliere was very great fear of " that," nmch more, in fact, tlian he was willing to admit even to iumself. " My dear old father never keeps his anger long I'm sure that he'll be all right agnin in hnlf-an-hour." 3 28 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS r-M I ■ •'Hope so, but doubt it I do," said Harry, making another deadly poke at tbe fire, and returning, with a deep sigh, to Ids stool. "Would you like to go with us, Charley?" said the senior clerk, laying down his pen and turning round on bis chair (the senior clerk never sat on a stool) with a benign smile. " Oh ! very, veiy much indeed," cried Charley ; " but even should father agree to stay all night at the fort, I have no horse, and I'm sure he would not let me have the mare after what I did to-day.' " Do you think he's not open to persuasion V said the senior clerk. " No, I'm sure he's not." " Well, well, it don't much signify ; perhaps we can mount you." Charley's face brightened. " Go," he continued, addressing Harry Somerville, " go, tell Tom Whyte I wish to speak to him." Harry sprang from his stool with a suddenness and vigour that might have justified the belief that he had been fixed to it by means of a powerful spring, which had been set free with a sharp recoil, and shot him out at the door, for he disappeared in a trice. In a few minutes he returned, followed by the groom Tom Whyte. " Tom," said the senior clerk, " do you think we could manage to mount Charley to-morrow?" "Why, sir, I don't think as how we could. There aint an 'oss in the stable excei)t them wot's required and tliem wot's badly." " Couldn't he have the browu }>ony ?" suggested the Beni(»r clerk. FROM THE FAR NORTH. 29 ■ry, making ling, with a 'V said the tig round on tool) Avith a arley; "but at the fort, let me have n V'' said the rhaps we can Somerville, lU. .denness and that he had spring, which ot him out at a few minutes liyte. link we could could. There s required and suggested the t ri ■is % Tom Wliyto was a cockney, and an old soldier, and stood so bolt upriglit that it seemed quite a marvel how tlie words ever managed to climb uj) the steep ascent of his tliroat, and turn tlic corner so as to get out at his mouth. Perhaps tliis \va« the cause of his speaking on all occasions with great deliberation and slowness. "Why, you .see, sir," he re})lied, "the brown pony's got cut under the ^etlock of the right hind leg ; and 1 'ad 'ini dany throughout the country. It Wfus large, and low in the roof, built entirely of wood, which Wiis unpainted, — a matter, however, of no consequence, as, from long exposure to dust and tobacco- smoke, the lioor, walls, and ceiling, had become one deep uniform brown. The men's beds were constructed after the fiishion of berths on board ship, being wooden boxes ranged in tiers round the room. Several tables and benches were strewn miscellaneously about the floor, in the centre of which stood a large double iron stove, with the word *' CcuTon " stamped on it. Thi^ served at once for cook- ing and warming the place. Numerous guns, axes, and canoe-paddles hung round the walls or were piled in corners, and the rafters sustained a miscellaneous mass of materials, the more cons})icuous among which weie snow- shoes, dog-sledges, axe-handles, and nets. Having filled and lighted his pipe, Tom VVhyte thinist his hands into his deer-skin mittens, and sauntered off to perform hia eirand. 32 SNOWFLAKES AND SUM BEAMS CHAPTEK rv. I A. wolf-liunt in the prairies— Charley astonishes his father, and breaJL*! In the " noo 'oss" effectually. During the long winter that reigns in the northern regions of America, the tlicrmometer ranges, for many months together, from zero down to 20, 30, and 40 degrees heloiv it. In different parts of the conntry the intensity of the frost varies a little, hut not sufficiently to make any appreciable cliange in one's sensation of cold. At York Fort, on the shores of Tfudson's Bay, where the winter is eight months long, the spirit-of-wine (mercury being useless in so cold a climate) sometimes falls so low a.s 50 degrees below zero ; and away in the regions of Great Bear Lake, it has been known to fall considerably lower than 60 degrees below zero of Fahrenheit. Cold of such intensity, of course, produces many curious and in- teresting effects ; which, although scarcely noticed by the inhabitants, make a strong impression upon the minds of those who visit the country for the first time. A youth goes out to walk on one of the first sharp, frosty morn- ings. His locks are brown and his face ruddy. In lialf-i an-hour he returns with liis face blue, his nose frost- bitten, and his locks icliite — tlie latter effect being pro- duced by liis breath congealing on his hair and brea.st, until both are covered with hoar-frost. Perhaps he is of a sceptical nature, prejudiced, it may l>e, in favour of old i I i niOM THE !• All NORTH. 53 }^euiL^ In thu northern for many I, and 40 nntr}^ the iciently to n of coUL Iwhere the [mercury s so low ■egions of isiderably Cold of s and in- cd by the minds of A youth ty morn- In half-i ose frost- eing pro- d hrea,st, s he is of ur of old habits and customs, so that, although told, by those who oui^ht to know, that it is absolutely nocossai-v to wear nioc(3asins in Avinter, lie prefers the leather boots to wliich he has been accustomed at home, and goes ovit with thtau accordingly. In a few minutes the feet begin to lose sen- sation. First the toes, as far as feeling goes, vanish ; then the heels depai-t, and he feels the extraordinary, and peculiar, and altogether disagreeable sensation of one who has had his heels and toes amputated, and is walking about on his insteps. Soon, however, these also fade away, and the unha})py youth rushes frantically home on the stumps of his ankle-bones — at least so it ajipeara to him — and so in reality it would turn out to be, if lie did not s})eedily rub the benumbed apj)endage'i into vitality again. The wdiole country, during this season, is buried in snow, and the prairies of lied lliver present the a]>pear- ance of a sea of the jnirest white, for tivo or six months of the year. Impelled by hunger, troops of prairie wolves prowl round the settlement, safe from the assault of man in consequence of their light weight permitting them to scamper away on the surface of the snow, into which man or horse, from their greater weight, would sink, so as to render pursuit either fearfully laborious, or alto- gether impossible. In spring, however, when the first thaws begin to take place, and commence that delightlul process of disru})tion which introduces this charming season of the year, the relative position of wolf and maji is reversed. The snow becomes suddenly soft, so that the short legs of the wolf, sinking deep into it, fail to reach the solid ground below, and he is obliged to drag heavily ilong, while the long legs of the hoi-se enable him to 34 SNOW FLAKES AND SDNIiKAMS il 1 plunge through and dash aside the snow at a rate which, altihough not very fleet, is sufficirut, nevertheless, to over- take the chase and give his rider a chance of shooting it. The inhabitants of Red lliver are not much addicted to this sport, but the gentlemen of the Hudson's Bay Service sometimes practise it ; and it was to a hunt of this description that our young friend Charley Kennedy was now so anxious to go. The morning Avas propitious. The sun blazed in dazzling splendour in a sky of deep unclouded blue, while the white prairie glittered as if it were a sea of diamonds rolling out in an unbroken sheet from the walls of the fort to the horizon, and on looking at which one experi- enced all the pleasurable feelings of being out on a calm day on the wide, wide sea, without the disagreeable con- sequence of being very, very sick. The thermometer stood at 39° in the shade, and '* everythin/i-," as Tom Whyte emphatically expressed it, "looked like a runnin' of right away into slush." That unusual sound, the trickling of water, so inexpressibly grateful to the ears of those who dwell in frosty climes, was heard all around, as the heavy masses of snow on the house-tops sent a few adventurous drops gliding do'WTi the icicles which depended from the eves and gables ; and there was a balmy softness in the air that told of coming spring. Nature, in fact, seemed to have wakened from her long nap, and was beginning to think of getting up. Like i)eople, however, who venture to delay so long as to think about it, Nature frequently turns round and goes to eleep again in her icy cradle for a few weeks after the first awakening. 'J'he scene in the court-yard of Fort Garry harmoiUBod i I FROM THE FAR NOIITII. 3d rute which, ess, to over- of shooting ich addicted Lidson's Bay a liunt of ey Kennedy 1 blazed in tl Uiie, while of diamonds walls of the i one experi- )ut on a calm icreeable con- shade, and expressed it, slush." That inexpressibly frosty climes, s of snow on gliding do\*Ti d gables ; and )ld of coming wakened from of getting up. so long as to d and goes to after the first ry liarmoniBod 1 M a' with the cheerf'd spirit of the morning. Tom Wliyte, with that upright solemnity whicli constituted one of Ida characteristic features, was standing in the centre of a group of hoi'ses, whose energy he endeavoured to restrain with the help of a small Indian boy, to whom, mean- while, he imparted a variety of useful and otherwise un- attainable information. " You see. Joseph," said he to the urchin, who gazed gravely in his face with a pair of very large and dark eyes, " ponies is often skittish. Keason why one should be, an' another not, I can't comprehend. P'raps its uat'ral, p'i''aps not, but howsomediver so 'tis, an' if its more nor above the likes o' vie, Joseph, you needn't be surprised that it's somethink hal together beyond t/ou." It will not surprise the reader to be told that Joseph made no reply to this speech, having a very imperfect acquaintance with the English language, especially the peculiar dialect of that tongue in which Tom Whyte was wont to express his ideas, when he liad any. He merely gave a grunt, and contiimed to gaze at Tom's fishy eyes, which were about as interesting as the face to which they bek aged, and that might have been mistaken for almost aiything. " Yes, Joseph," he continued, " that's a fact. There's the noo brown 'oss now, Ws a skittish 'un. And there's Mr Kennedy's gray mare, wot's a standin' of beside me, she aint skittish a bit, though she's plenty of spirit, and wouldn't care hanythink for a five-barred gate. Now, wot I want to know is, wot's the reason why 1 " We fear that the reason why, however interesting it might prove to naturalists, must remain a proibund Becret for ever ; for, just as the groom was about to 6(i SNOWI'LAKES AND SUNBEAMS I I entei'tain Jonepli with one of his theories on ':he point, Charley Kennedy and Harry Somerville hastily ap- proached. " Ho, Tom ! " exclaimed the foi-mer, " have you got the miller's pony for me ? " " Why, no, sir ; 'e 'adn't got his shoes on, sir, last nigjit " " Oh ! bother his shoes," said Charley, in a voice of great disappointment. " Why didn't you bring him up without shoes, man, eh ? " " Well, sir, the miller said 'e'd get 'em put on early this mornin', an' I 'xpect 'e'll be 'ere in 'alf a hour at farthest, sir." " Oh, very Avell," replied Charley, much relieved, but Btill a little nettled at the bare possibility of being late. " Come along, Harry, let's go and meet him. He'll be long enough of coming if we don't go to poke him up a bit." " You'd better wait," called out the groom, as the boys hastened away. " If you go by the river he'll p'r'apd come by the plains, and if you go by the plains he'll p'r'aps come by the river." Charley and Harjy stopped and looked at each other. Then they looked at the groom, and as their eyes sur- veyed his solemn, cadaverous countenance, which seemed a sort of bad caricature of the long visages of the horses that stood around him, they burst into a simultaneous and prolonged laugh. " He's a clever old lamp-post," said Harry, at last ; " we had better remain, Charley." " You see," continued Tom Whyte, " the pony's 'ooft \s in an 'orrible state. Last night w'en I see'd 'im, I said i FliOM THE FAK NOU'lll. 37 on Mie point, luistily ap- bave you got on, sir, last in a voice of bring liim up put on early 'alf a hour at L relieved, but of being late. im. He'll be poke liim up m, as the boys r he'll p'r'apa ins hell p'r aps at each other, leir eyes sur- which seemed of the horses simultaneous :arry, at last j le pony's 'oofr se'd 'im, 1 said to tlie niillor, says I, 'John, Til take 'im down to the smith d'rectly.' 'Very good,' said John. So I 'ad Ijini down to the smith " The remainder of Tom's speech was cut short by one ol those unforeseen operations of the laws of nature, wliich are peculiar to arctic climates. During the long winter, repeated falls of snow cover the house-tops with white mantles ui)wards of a foot thick, which become gradually thicker and more consolidated as winter advances. In spring, the suddenness of the thaw loosens tliese from the sloping roofs, and precipitates them in mtisses to the ground. These miniature avalanches are dangerous, people having l)ecn seriously injured and sometimes killed by them. Now, it ]iap})ened that a very lai-ge mass of snow, which lay on, and partly depended from, the roof of the house near to which the horses were standing, gave way, and just at that critical point in Tom Whyte's speech when he " 'ad 'im down to the smith," fell with a stunning crash on the back of INIr Kennedy's gray mare. The mare wtis not " skittisli " — by no means — according to Tom's idea, but it would have been more than an ordinary mare to have stood the sudden descent of half-a- tou of snow without some symptom of consciousness. No sooner did it feel the blow, than it sent both heels with a bang against the wooden store, by way of preliminary movement, and then, rearing up with a wild snort, it s[)rang over Tom Whyte's head, jerked the reins from his liand, and upset him in the snow. Poor Tom never heni to anything. The military despotism under which he had been reared having sub..;tituted a touch of the cap for a bow, rendered it unnecessary to bend ; prolonged drill, laziness, and rheumatism made it at last impossibla 38 SNOWFLAK.ES ANJ) SUNBEAMS Wlieii he stood up, !io did so after the inaiiuer of a pillai 5 when he sat down, )ie broke across at two points, much in the way in which a foot-nde woukl liave done, had it felt disposed to sit down, and wlien he fell, he came down like an overturned lamp-post. On the present occasion, Tom became horizontal in a moment, and from hia unfortunate propensity to fall straight, his head, reaching much farther than might have been expected, came into violent contact with the small Indian boy, who fell flat likewise, letting go the reins of the liorees, which latter no sooner felt themselves free, than they fled, curvetting and snorting round the court, with reins and mains Hying in rare confusion. The two boys, who could scarce stand for laughing, ran to the gates of the fort to prevent the chargei's getting free, and in a short time they \\ ere again secured, although evidently nuicli elated in spirit. A few minutes after this, Mr Grant issued from the principal house, leaning on Mr Kennedy's arm, and fol- lowed by the senior clerk, Peter Mactavish, and one or two friends who had come to take part in the wolf-hunt. They were all armed with double or single barrelled guns or pistols, according to their several fancies. The two elderly gentlemen alone entered upon the scene without any more deadly weapons than their heavy riding whips. Young Harry Somerville, who had been strongly advised not to take a gun lest he should shoot himself, or his horse or his companions, was content to take the field with a small pocket-pistol, wliich he crammed to the muzzle with a compound of ball and swan-shot. " It won't do," said Mr Grant, in an earnest voice, tc fKOM THE FAB Nt)Kni. 39 iits, much •lie, had it ho came e present and from his head, expected, [lian boy, ihe horses, than they with reiiLs laughing, ! chargers 11 secured, from the , and fol- d one or olf-hunt. barrelled OS. The |lie scene |ir heavy bad been lid shoot mtent to 'liicli be Iball and I voice, to liif* friend, as they walked towards tlic horses-- "it won't do to cheek hiiu too abruptly, my dear sir." •m It was evident that they were recurring to the subject of conversation of ihe previous day, and it Wiis also evi- dent tliat the fatlier's wrath was in that very uncertain state wluMi a word or a look can tlirow it into violent „ agitation. 1 " Just permit me," continued Mr Grant, " to get 4 him sent to the Saskatchewan or Athabasca for a couple of years. By that time he'll have had enough of a I'ough life, and be only too glad to got a berth at head- • '• (piartei's. If you thwart him now, I feel convinced that luTll break through all restraint." " Humph !" ejaculated Mr Kennedy, with a frown. " Come here, Charley," he said, as the boy ap[)roached with a disappointed look, to tell of his failure in getting a liorse ; " I've been talking with Mr Grant again about this business, and he says he can easily get you into the counting-room here for a year ; so you'll make arrangements " The old gentleman paused : he was going to have fol- lowed his wonted course, by commanding instantaneous obedience ; but as his eye fell upon the honest, open, though disappointed face of his son, a gush of tenderness filled his heart. Laying his hand upon Charley's head, he said, in a kind but abrupt tone, '^ There now, Charley, lay boy, make up your mind to give in with a good gi'ace. It'll only be hard work for a year or two, and then plain sailing after that, Charley !" Charley's clear blue eyes fiPed with teal's as the accents of kindness fell upon his ear. ft is strange that men should frequently be so blind U: 40 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNUEAMS •li I the potent influence of kindness. Independently of the Divine authority, which assures us tliat " a soft answer turncth away wrath," and that " love is the liilfillini; of the hiw," who has not, in the course of liis experience, felt the overwhelming power of a truly affectionate word ] — not a word which possesses merely an aftectionate sig- nification, but a word sjx^ken with a gush of tenderness, wlierc love rolls m the tone, and heams in the eye, and revels in every wrinkle of the face ! And how much more jiowerfuUy does such a word, or look, or tone strike home to the heart, if uttered by one whose lips are not much accustomed to the formation of honeyed words or sweet sentences ! Had IVEr Kennedy, senior, known more of this power, and put it more frequently to the proof, vvo venture to affirm that Mr Kennedy, junior, would have allowed his '^ flint to he fixed "" (as his father pithily ex- pressed it) long ago. Ere Charley could reply to the question, Mr Grant's 7oice, pitched in an elevated key, internipted them. " Eh ! what ? " said that gentleman to Tom Whyte " No horse for Cliarley ! How's that ? " " No, sir," said Tom. " "Where's the brown pony ? " said Mr Grant, abruptly, " Cut 'is fetlock, sir," said Tom, slowly. " And the new horse ? " « 'Tant 'alf broke yet, sir." " Ah ! that's bad. It wouldn't do to take an un- broken charger, Charley, for, although you are a pretty good rider, you couldn't manage him, I fear. Let me see." " Please, sir," said the groom, touching his hat, " I've boiTOwed the miller's pony for 'im, and 'e's sure to be 'ere in 'alf a hour at farthest." I FROM TflE FAR NORTH. 41 iitly of the K)ft answer fulfilling; of experience, nate word 1 tionate sig- tenderness, le eye, and how much tone strike re not much L'ds or sweet wn more of .10 proof, wo would have r pithily ex- Mr Grant's them, 'om Whyie it, abruptly. :ake an un- ^,re a pretty jet me see." hat, " I've sure to be " Oh, that'll do," said Mr Grant ; " you cnn soon over- take us. We shall ride slowly out, straight iuto the prairie, and Harry will remain behind to keep you cinn- paiiy." So saying, Mr Grant mouiited his horse and rode out at the back gate, followed by the whole cavalcade. "Now, this is too bad!" said Charley, looking with a very perplexed air at his companion. " What's to be done?" Plarry evidently did not know what was to be done, and made no difficulty of saying so in a very sympa- thising tone. Moreover, he begged Charley very earnestly to take his pony, but this the other would not hear of ; so they came to the conclusion that there was nothing for it but to wait as patiently as possibly for the arrival of the expected horse. In the meantime Harry proposed a saunter in the field adjoining the fort. Charley assented, and the two friends walked away, leading the gray pony along with them. To the right of Fort Garry was a small enclosure, at the extreme end of which commences a growth of willows and underwood, which gradually increases in size till it becomes a pretty thick belt of woodland, skirting up the river for many miles. Here stood the stable belonging to the establishment ; and, as the boys passed it, Charley suddenly conceived a strong desire to see the renowned " noo 'oss," which Tom Whyte had said was only " 'alf broke;" so he turned the key, opened the door, and went in. There was nothing veiy peculiar about this horse, ex- cepting that his legs . "ed rather long for his body, and, upon a closer examin; here was a noticeable bre.'idtli •f .i.^-»#..yvy ^i ig [^ 42 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS of nostril and a latent fire in his eye, indicating a gootl deal of spirit, which, like Cliarley's own, required taming '' Oh," said Charley, " wliat a sjilendid fellow ! I say. Harry, I'll go out with hinL^ " You'd better not." " Why not ?" " Why ? Just because if you do, Mr Grant will be down upon you, and your father won't be very well pleased." " Nonsense," crie spirit which had been ascribed to liim. FROM THE FAR NORTH '13 ting a gooil ceil taming »w ! I ^^ay, ant will be very well idn't say 1 care much. And, tlien, iing run off ;oes for it !" and bridled, ike a lamb," :i tal charger ; ; ndred milea )rairiea, the i 1 bring him i fig." And I oat of the wy animal, V or elegance. ^ ■ ^ ried a high gave him a at a steady ,., 5 refractor) 'A X " Let us strike out straight for the horizon now," said fTarry, aft«^r they liad galloped half-a-niile or so along the beaten track. " See, here ai-e the tracks of our friends.*' Turniii*' sharp round as he spoke, he leaped his pony over the heap that lined the rcjud, and galloped away til rough the soft snow. At this point the young horse began to sliew his evil sph'it. Instead of following the other, he suddenly halted and began to back " Hallo, Harry !" exclaimed Charley ; " hold on a bit. Here's this monster begun his tricks." " Hit him a crack with the whip," shouted Harry. Charley acted upon the advice, which had the effect of making the horse shake his head with a sharp snort, and back more vigorously than ever. " There, my fine fellow, quiet now," said Charley, in a soothing tone, patting the horse's neck. " It's a comfort to know you can't go far in that direction, anyhow !" he addi'd, as he glanced over his shoulder, and saw an im- mense drift behind. He was right. In a few minutes the hoi-se backed into tlio snow-drift. Finding his hind-quarters imprisoned by a ]iower that was too much even for his obstinacy to over- come, he gave another snort and a heavy plvuige, which almost unseated his young rider, " Hold on fast," cried Harry, who had now come up. " No fear," cried Charley, as he clenched his teeth and gathered the reins more firmly. " Now for it, you young villain !" and, raising his whip, lie brought it down with J licavy slash on the horse's flank. Had the snow-drift been a cannon, and the hoi-so a bnnibslu.'ll, he could scarcely have sprung fr-iu it with 4 14 SNOWFLAKES ANT) SUNBEAMS ii greater velocity. One bound landed liim on the road i another cleared it ; and, in a second inore^ he stretched out at full 8i)eed — his ears flat on his neck, mane and tail flying in the wind, and the bit tight between his teeth. ''Well done," cried Harry, as he passed; "you're oflf now, old fellow — good-bye." " Hurrah !" shouted Charley, in reply, leaving his cap in the snow as a parting souvenir; while, seeing that it was useless to endeavour to check Ills steed, he became quite wild w4th excitement ; gave him the rein ; flourished his whip ; and flew over the white plains, casting up the snow in clouds behind him like a humcane ! While this little escapade was being enacted by the boys, the hunters were riding leisurely out upon tlie sno^vy sea in search of a wolf. Words cannot convey to you, dear r. -^ ier, an adequate conception of the peculiar fascinatio .e exhilarating splendour of the scene by w^hich our i^^uoers were sur- rounded. Its beauty lay not in variety of feature in the landscape, for there was none. One vat-t sheet of white alone met the view, bounded all round by the blue circle of the sky, and broken, in one or two places, by a patch or two of willows, which, rising on the plain, appeared like little islands in a frozen sea. It was the glittering sparkle of the snow in the bright sunshine ; the dreamy liaziness of the atmosphere, mingling earth and sky as in a halo of gold ; the first taste — the first smell of spring after a long winter, bursting suddenly upon the senses^ like the unexpected visit of a long absent, much loved, and almost forgotten friend ; the soft, warm feeling of the south wind, bearing on its wings the balm}" influences of '^nriny climes, and recalling vividly the scones, tlie ;,;i^* FROM THE FAR NORTH. 45 n tlie road ; he stretched nane and tail n his teeth. ; "you're oflf aving his cap eeing that it d, he became ,ni flourished lasting up the I lacted by the )ut upon the ', an adequate exhilarating cers were sur- feature in the ,heet of white he blue circle ■s, by a patch ain, appeared the glittering ; the dreamy and sky as in mell of spring lU the senses^ much loved, •m feeling of my influences scones, the m pleasures, the bustling occupations of summer. It was this that caused the hunters' hearts to leap within them lis they rode along — that ind\iced old jNIr Kennedy to forget his yeai-s, and shout as he had been wont to do in davs gone by, when he used to follow the track of the elk, or hunt the A^'ild buffalo ; and it wa.s this that made the othermse monotonous prairies, on this particular day, so charmiiig. The party had wandered about without discovering anvthins: that bore the smallest resemblance to a wolf, for upwards of an hour. Fort Garry had fallen astern (to use a nautical phrase) until it had become a mere speck on the horizon, and vanished altogether. Peter IMactavish had twice given a false alarm, in the eagerness of his spirit, and had three times plunged his horse up to the girths in a snow-drift. The senior clerk was waxing imjiatient, and the horses restive, when a sudden "hallo!" from Mr Grant brought the whole cavalcade to a stand. The object wlucli drew his attention, arid to which he directed the anxious eyes of his friends, was a small speck, rather triangular in form, which overtopped a little willow-bush not more than five or six hundred yards distant. " There he is !" exclaimed Mr Grant. " Tliat's a fact," cried Mr Kennedy ; and both gentlemen, instantaneously giving a shout, bounded towards the object ; not, how- ever, before the senior clerk, who was mounted (jn a fleet and strong horse, liad taken the lead by six yards. A moment afterwards the speck rose up and discovered itself to be a veritable wolf. Moreover, lie condesccmded to shew his teeth, and, then, conceiving it probabU; tliat liis enemies wore too numerous for him, lie runted siid- 46 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS i » denly round, and fled away. For ten minutes or so the cha.se was kept up at full speed, and as the snow happened to be sliallow at tlie starting point, the wolf kept well ahead of its pursuers — indeed, distanced them a little. But soon the snow became deeper, and the wolf plunged heavily, and the horses gained considerably. Although, to the eye, the prairies seemed to be a uniform level, there were numerous slight undulations, in which drifts of some depth had collected. Into one of these the wolf now plunged and laboured slowly through it. But so deep was the snow that the horses almost stuck fast. A few minutes, however, brought them out, and Mr Grant and INIr Kennedy, who had kept close to each other during the run, pulled up for a moment on the summit of a ridge to l)reathe their panting steeds. "What can that be?" exclaimed the former, pointing with his whip to a distant object which was moving rapidly over the plain. "Eh! what! where?" said Mr Kennedy, shading his eyes with his hand, and peering in the direction indicated. " Why, that's another wolf, isn't it ? No, it nins too fast for that." "Strange," said liis friend, " what cctm it be ?" " If I hadn't se(m eveiy beast in the country," remarked Mr Kennedy, " and didn't know that there are no such animals north of the equator, I should say it was a mad dromedary mounted by a ring-tailed roarer." " It can't be, surely ! — not possible !" exclaimed Mr Giant. " It's not (Jharley on the new horse !" Mr Grant said this with an air of vexation that an- aoved his friend a little. He would not have much minded Oliarley's taking a liorse ^vithout leave, no matter ■tfifl- FROM THE FAR NORTH 47 s or so the V ■ V happened ■< f kept well : m a little. "i )lf plunged V Although, % iform level, I vhich drifts 1 Bse the wolf 1 it. But so 1 ck fast. A I d Mr Grant '' each othet ;) the summit - ler, pointing ; ' was moving shading his 3n indicated. -■iT/'- runs too fast Ml )cr' ■m r," remarked '■ ''.^ . are no such "a- ■■/-'- t was a mad ccl aimed Mr 1" 1 ion that an- -- '■ have much ^c, no mnttoT 'i Kow wild it might be ; but he did not at all reli.sh the idea of making an apology for his son's misconduct, and, for the moment, did not exactly know what to say. As usual in such a dilemma, the old man took refuge in a towering passion, gave his steed a shaq) cut with the whip, and gall(Ji)ed fonvard to meet the delinquent. We are not acquainted with the general a})i)earance of a "ring-tailed roarer;" in fact, we have grave doubts a.s to whether such an animal exists at all ; but if it does, and is jtarticularly wild, dishevelled, and fierce in deport- ment, there is no doubt whatever, that, when Mr Ken- nedy ap])lied the name to his hopeful son, the a])plication was singularly powerful and appropriate. Chiu'ley had had a long run since we last saw him. After describing a wide curve, in which his charger dis- played a surprising aptitude for picking out the ground that was lea.st covered with snow, he headed straight for the foil; again at the same pace at \\'hich he had started. At first, Charley tried every 2)ossible method to check him, but in vain ; so he gave it up, resolving to enjoy the race, since he could not prevent it. The young horse seemed to be made of lightning, with bones and nmsclea of brass, for he bounded untiringly forward for miles, tossing his head and snorting in his wild career. But Charley was a good horseman, and did not mind that nuich, being quite satisfied that the horse iras a horse and not a spirit, and that, therefore, he could not run for ever. At last he approached the party, in search of which he had originally set out. His eyes dilated and his colour heightened as he beheld the wolf running di rectly towards him. Fumbling hastily for the pistol which he liad bori*owed from his friend Harry, he drew i! ■',Tf ' 45 hNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS. ( it from his pocket, and [H'epared to give the animal a shot in passing. Just at that moment the wolf caught sight of tliis new enemy in advance, and diverged suddenly to the left, plunging into a drift in his confusion ; and so enabling the senior clerk to overtake him, and send an ounce of heavy shot into his side, which turned him over quite dead. The shot, however, had a double effect. At that instant Charley swept past; and his mettlesome steed swerved as it heard the loud report of the gun, thereby almost unhorsing his rider, and causing him unintention- ally to discharge the conglomerate of bullets and swan-shot into the flank of Peter jSIactavish's horse — fortunately at a distance which rendered the shot equivalent to a dozen very sharp and particularly stinging blows. On receiving this unexpected salute, the astonished charger reared con- vulsively, and fell back upon his rider, who was thereby buried deep in the snow, not a vestige of him being left, no more than if he had never existed at all. Indeed, for a moment it seemed to be doubtful whether poor Peter did exist or not, until a sudden upheaving of the snow took place, and his dishevelled head appeared, with the eyes and mouth wide open, bearing ou them an expression of mingled horror and amazement. Meanwhile, the second shot acted like a spur on the young horse, which flew past Mr Kennedy like a whirlwind. " Stop, you young scoundrel ! " he shouted, shaking his fist at Charley as he passed. Charley was past stopping, either by inclination or ability. This sudden and unexpected accumulation of disasters was too much for him. As lie passed his sire, with his brown curls streaming straight out behind, and his eyp.s flashing with excitement, his teeth clenched, and his FKOM TllK FAU NOUTH 40 imal a shot iiiglit sight aicldenly to 311 ; and so [kI seiul an jd him over effect. At esonie steed run, thereby iinintention- d swan-shot )rtunately at it to a dozen On receiving ■ reared con- was thereby being left, Indeed, for poor Peter f the snow id, with the In expression I, the second ch flew past shaking his Iclination or Imulation of ked his sire, |iind, and his led, and his honsf tearing along more like an incarnate fiund tlian an animal — a spirit of combined rccklessnos.s, consternation, indignation, and glee, took possession of liim. He waved his whip wildly over his head, brought it down with a stinging cut on the horee's neck, and uttered a shout of defiance that threw com])letely into the shnde the loudest war-whoop that was ever uttered V)y the brazen hings of the wildest savage between Hudson's Bay and Oregon. Seeing and hearing this, old INIr Kennedy wheeled about and dashed oflf in pursuit witli much greater energy than he had displayed in chase of the wolf The race bade fair to be a long one, for the young horse was strong in wind and limb ; and the gray mare, thongli decidedly not " the better horse," was much fresher than the other. The hunters, who were now joined by Hany Soraer- ville, did not feel it incumbent on them to follow this new chase ; so they contented themselves with watching their flight towards the fort, while they followed at a more lei- surely pace. Meanwhile, Charley rapidly neai-ed Fort Giu-iy ; and now began to wonder whether the stable door was open ; and, if so, whether it were better for him to take his chance of getting his neck broken, or to throw himself into the next snow drift that presented itself He had not to remain long in suspense. Tlie wooden fence that enclosed the stable yard lay before him. It was between four and five feet high, with a beaten track running along the outside, and a deep snow-diift on the other. Charley felt that the young horse had made up his mind to leap this. As he did not, at the moment, see that there was anything better to be done, lie prepared foi 50 SNOWl-'LAKES A.NJ> SUMlEA.MS it. As the liorse bent on liis liaunclics to spring, he gave liim a smart cut willi tlic wlii[), went over like a rocket, and plunged up to tlio neck in the snow-drift, which brouglit his care(;r to an abrupt conclusion. The sudden stop])age of the liorse was one thing, but the arresting of Miuster Charley was another, and quite a different thing. The instant his chargi'r landed, he left the saddle like a liarlcfpiin, described an extensive curve in the air, and fell head foremost int(i the drift, above whioli his boots and three inches of his legs alone remained to tell the tal(^ Uii \vitnessing tliis climax, Mr Kennedy, senior, pulled up, dismounted, and ran — with an ex])ression of some anxiety on his cou!itenance — to the help of his son ; while Tom Whyte came out of the stable just in time to receive the "noo 'oss" as he floundered out of the snow. " I believe," Siud the groom, as he surveyed the trem- bUng charger, " that youi* son has broke the noo 'oss, sir, better nor I could 'ave done myself." " I believe that my son has broken his neck," said Mr. Kennedy, wrathfully. " Come here and help me to dig him out." In a few minutes Cliarley was dug out, in a state of in- sensibility, and carried up to the fort, where he was laid an a bed, and restoratives actively applied for his recovery •ing, he giive ike a rocket, drift, which The suddeu arresting of lereiit thing. saddle like a tlie air, and Lch his boots d to tell tlie senior, pulled sion of some I of his son ; ist in time to [)f the snow. ^ed the trem- noo 'oss, sir, i 1 3ck," said Mr. :'| j ilp me to dig 1 a state of in- he was laid liis recovery CHARLEY IN THE UHIFT. IViire r.ii ■A ( i! , I '1 Y ,1 1 i e'KOM TUK FAll NOllTJi CI CHxVl^rEll V. ''^i Pciur Muclavisli becomes uu ainiitcur ductor; Charley proinu));Htefl hisvicv\s ul tilings ill geiicrnl to Katu; and Kato waxes sagacious. Shortly after the catastrophe just related, Charley opened his eyes to consciousness, and aroused himself out of h prolonged fainting fit, under the combined intluence of a strong constitution, and the medical treatment of his friends. i>Iedical treatment in the wilds of North America, by the way, is very original in its character, and is founded on principles so vague, that no one has ever been found capable of stating them clearly. Owing to the stubborn fact, that there are no doctors in the country, men have been thrown upon their own resources , and, as a natural consequence, everi/ man is a doctor. True, there are two, it may be three, real doctors in the Hudson's Bay Com- pany's employment ; but, as one of these is resident on the shores of Hudson's Bay, another in Oregon, and a third in Red River Settlement, they are not considered available for every case of emergency that may chance to occur in the hundreds of little outposts, scattered far and wide over the whole continent of North America, with miles and miles of primeval wilderness between each. We do not think, therefore, that when we say there are no doctors in the country, we use a culpable amount of exaggeration. 62 8N0NVFLAKKS AND SlJNUIiAMS It" ii mail gets ill, he goes on till ho gots botter ; and, if lie doesn't gep again, while his friends departed and left him to repose. Tom Whyte failed to find the doctor. The servant told him that her master liad been suddenly called to set a broken leg that morning for a trappcsr who lived ten miles (hum the riv(!r, and, on his return, had found a man waiting Avith a horse and cariole, who carried him violently away to see his wife, who had been taken sud- denly ill at a house twenty miles vp the river, and so she didn't expect him back that night. '' An' where has 'e been took to V inquired Tom. She couldn't tell — she knew it w^as somewhere about the White-horse Plains, but she didn't know more than that. " Did 'e not say w'en 'e'd be 'ome I '" " No, he didn't." " Oh dear! " said Tom, rubbing his long nose in "Tont i {' 5G SNOW FLAKES AND SUNBEAMS. perplexity. " It's an 'orrible case o' sudden and onex- pected pison." She was sorry for it, but couldn't help that ; and, there- upon, bidding him good mornmg, shut the door, Tom's wits had come to that condition which just precedes ^^ giving it 2tp" as hopeless, when it occurred to him that he was not far from old Mr Kennedy's resi- dence ; so he stepped into the cariole again and drove thither. On his anival, he threv/ poor Mrs Kennedy and Kate into great consternation by his exceedingly graphic, and more than slightly exaggerated, account of what had brought him in search of the doctor. At first Mrs Ken- nedy resolved to go up to Fort Garry immediately, but Kate persuaded her to remain at home, by pointing out that she could herself go, and if anything very serious had occuiTcd (which she didn't believe), Mr Keimedy could come down for her immediately, while she (Kate) could remain to nurse her brother. In a few minutes Kate and Tom were seated side by side in the little cariole, driving swiftly up the frozen river, and two hours later the former was seated by her brother's bedside, watching him as he slept with a look of tender affection and solicitude. Rousing himself from his slumbers, Charley looked vacantly round the room. " Have you slept well, darling 1 " inquired Kate, laying her hand lightly on his forehead. " Slept — eh ! Oh, yes, I've slept. I say, Kate, what a precious bump T came down on my head, to be sure !" "Hush, Charley!" said Kate, perceiving that he was becoming energetia " Father said yon were to keep .V FROM THE FAR NORTH. 57 id onex- id, there- licli just ;urred to ly's resi- id drove nedy and '• graphic, ,vliat liad Mrs Ken- itely, but nting out rious had dy could te) could side by zen river, brother's ■ tender looked ;e, laying ;, what a re!" lie was to keep quiet — and so do I," she added, with a frown — "shut vour eyes, sir, and go to sleep." Charley complied by shutting his eyes, and opening his mouth, and uttering a succession of deep snores. •' Now, you bad boy," said Kate, " why won't you try t.. r(;str' " Because, Kate, dear," said Charley, opening his eyes again, " because I feel as if I had slept a week at least, and not being one of the seven sleepers, I don't think it necessary to do more in that way just now. Besides, my sweet, but pai-ticularly wicked sister, I wish just at this moment to have a talk with you." " But are you sure it won't do you harm to talk ; do you feel quite strong enough ? " " Quite ; Samson was a mere infant compared to me.'' " Oh ! don't talk nonsense, Cliarley dear, and keep your hands quiet, and don't lift the clothes with your knees in that way, else I'll go away and leave you." " Very well, my pet, if you do, I'll get up and dress and follow you, that's all ! But come, Kate, tell me first of all how it was that I got pitched off that long-legged rhinoceros, and who it was that picked me up, and why wasn't I killed, and how did I come here ; for my head is padly confused, and I scarcely recollect anything that has happened ; and, before commencing your discoui'se, Kate, please hand me a glass of water, for my mouth is as dry a.s a whistle." Kate handed him a glass of water, smoothed his pillow, l)rushed the curls gently off his forehead, and sat down on the bedside. " Thank von, Kvito — now go on " I II 58 SNOVVFLAT^RS AND SUXBKAA13 I *' Well, you see," she began " Pardon me, dearest," interrupted Charley, " if you (voukl please to look at me you would observe that my two eyes are tightly closed, so that I don't see at all." " Well, then, you must understand " " INIust I ? Oh ! " *' That after that wicked lioi-se leaped with you over the stabh fence, you were thrown high into the air, and turning completely round, fell head foremost into the snow, and your poor head went through the top of an old cask that had been buried there all winter." " Dear me," ejaculated Charley, " did any one see me. Kate 1 " " Oh, yes ! " " Who 1 " asked Charley, somewhat anxiously ; " not Mrs Grant, I hope, for if she did, she'd never let me heai the last of it." " No, only our father, who was chasing you at the time," replied Kate, with a merry laugh. " And no one else ?" "'No — oh, yes! by the bye, Tom Whyte was there too." " Oh, he's nobody ! Go on." " But tell me, Charley, why do you care about Mv^ Grant seeing you 1 " " Oh ! no reason at all, only she's such an abominable quiz. We must guard the reader here against the supposition that INIrs Grant was a quiz of the ordinary kind. She wns by no means a spnglitly, clever woman — rather fond of a joke than otherwise — as the term might lead you to 8iip]io«?R Hor corporeal fro me was very large, excessively ■if' FROM THE FAR NORTH. 59 " if you tliat my all." yon over air, and the snow, old cask 3 see mo. y; "not me heai 11 at thp ^'^s there ont j\Tr.^ iiviinable >position (I. She ler fond you to lessively rat, and remarkably unwieldy ; being an appropriate casket in which to enshrine a mind of the heaviest and most sluggish nature. She spoke little, ate largely, and slept much, — the latter recreation being very frequently enjoyed in a large arm-chair of a peculiar kind. It had been a water-butt, which her ingenious husband had cut half-way down the middle, then half-way across, and in the angle thus formed fixed a bottom, which, together with the back, he padded with tow, and covered the whole with a mantle of glaring bed curtain chintz, whose pattern alternated in stripes of sky-blue and china roses, with broken fragments of the rainbow between Not- withstanding her excessive slowness, however, Mrs Grant was fond of taking a firm hold of anything or any cir- cumstance in the character or affairs of her friends, and twitting them thereupon in a grave but persevering manner, that was exceedingly irritating. No one could ever ascertain whether Mrs Grant did this in a sly way or not, as her visage never expressed anything except un- alterable good-humour. She was a good wife and an affectionate mother ; had a family of ten children, and could boast of never having had more than one quarrel with her husband. This disagreement was occasioned by a rather awkward mischance. One day, not long after her last baby was born, Mrs Grant waddled towards her tub with the intention of enjoying her accustomed siesta. A few minutes previously, her seventh child, which was just able to walk, had scrambled up into the seat and fallen fast asleep there. As has been already said, Mrs Grant's in- tellect was never very bright, and at this particular time she was rather drowsy, so that she did not observe the child, and on reaching her chair, turned round pre- d i 1 ■wf i i I (.' "f GO SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS 1 I paratory to letting herself plump into it. She always plumped into her chair. Her muscles were too soft, to lower her gently down into it. Invariably, on reaching a certain point, they ceased to act, and let her down with a crash. She had just reached this point, and her baby's hopes and prospects were on the eve of being cruelly crushed for ever, when Mr Granc noticed the impending calamity. He had no time to warn her, for she had already passed the point at which her powers of muscular endurance terminated; so, grasping the chair, lie suddenly withdrew it with such force that the baby rolled off upon the floor like a hedgehog, straightened out flat, and gave vent to an outrageous roar, while its horror-struck motlicr came to the ground with a sound reseml^liuf? the fall of an enormous sack of wool. Althoufdi the old ladv could not see exactly that there was anything very blame- worthy in her husband's conduct upon this occasion, yet her nerves had received so severe a shock that she refused to be comforted for two entire days. ".'jut to return from this digression. After Charley had two or three times recommended Kate (who was a little iuf lined to be quizzical) to proceed, she continued — " Well, then, you were carried up here by father and Tom Whyte, and put to bed ; and after a good deal of rub'.nng and rough treatment, you were got round. Then Peter Mactavish nearly poisoned you ; but fortunately he was such a goose, that he did not Uiink of reading the label of the phial, and so gave you a dose of tincture of rhubarb instead of laudanum, as he had intended ; and then fiither flew into a passion, and Tom Whyte was sent to fetch the doctor, and couldn't find him; but, for- tunately, he found me, which was much better, T think. •i h'KOM I'HK FAK NOKTH. CI '1 e always ) sof^i tc reaching ^wn with er baby's g cruelly upending she had muscular suddenly off upon and gave 'or-struck bling the 3 old ladv :y blame- ,sion, yet e refused Charley |io was a luied — :her .and deal of Then lately he ding the icture of 3d ; and [yte was but, for- T think. I ind brought mo up hero, and so nero 1 am, and here 1 intend to remain," '' And so that's the end of it. Well, Kat(3, I'm verj 2lad it was no woreo." '• And 1 am veiy thankful,''' said Kate, with em])hasis on the word, " that it's no woi'so." " Oh, well ! you know, Kate, I meant that, of course." " But you did not say it," rejjlitMl his sister, eaniestly. " To be sure not," said Charley, gaily ; "it would be absurd to be always making solemn si)eechcs, and things of that sort, eveiy time one has a little accident." ' True, Charley ; but when one has a very serious ac- cident, and escapes unhurt, don't you think that then it would be " " Oh, yes, to be sure ! " interrupted Charley, who still strove to turn Kate from her serious frame of mind ; " but, sister dear, how could I possibly say I was thank- ful, with my head crammed into an old cask and my feet [jointing up to the blue sky 1 eh ! " Kate smiled at this, and laid her hand on his arm, while she bent over the pillow and looked tenderly into his eyes. " Oh, my darling Charley ! you are disposed to jest about it ; but I cannot tell you how my heart trembled this morning, when I heard from Tom Whyte of what had happened. As we drove up to the fort, I thought how terrible it would have been if you had been killed ; and then the happy days we have spent together rushed into my mind, and I thought of the willow creek where we used to fish for gold-eyes, and the spot in the woods where we have so often chased the little birds ; and the lake in the t)rairies where we used to go in spring t>c I 1 1 62 SNOWFLAKES A.VD SUNRRVMS watcli the waterfowl sporting in the sunshine — when 1 recalled these things, Charley, and thought of you as dead, I felt as if I should die too. And when I came here and found that my feai-s were needless, that you were alive and safe, and almost well, I felt thankful — yes, very, very thankful — to God, for sparing your life, my dear, dear Charley." And Kate laid her head on his bosom and sobbed, when she thought of what might have been, as if her very heart would break. Charley's disposition to levity entirely vanished while his sister spoke ; and, t^vining his tough little arm round her neck, he pressed her fei-vently to liis heart. " Bless you, Kate," he said at length. " I am indeed thankful to God, not only for sparing my life, but for giving me such a darling sister to live for. But now, Kate, tell me, what do you think of father's determination to have me placed in the office here 1 " " Indeed, I think it's very hard. Oh, I do wish so much that I could do it for you," said Kate, with a sigh " Do u'hat for me ?" asked Charley. " Why, the office work," said Kate. " Tuts ! fiddlesticks ! But isn't it, now, really a very hard case ?" " Indeed it is ; but, then, what can you do ?" " Do 1 " said Charley, impatiently ; " run away, to be sure." " Oh, don't speak of that ! " said Kate, anxiously. " You know it will kill our beloved mother ; and then it would gi'ieve father very much." " "Well, father don't care much about grieving me, when he hunted me down like a wolf till T nearly broke my neck." FROM THK PAR NORTH. 63 a very ** Now, Charley, you must not speak so. Father loves you tenderly, although he is a little rough at times. K you only heard how kindly he speaks of you to our mo- ther when you are away, you could not think of giving liini so much pain. And then, the Bible says, * Honour thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee ;' and, as God speaks in the Bible, surely we should pay attention to it !" Charley was silent for a few seconds ; then, heaving a deep sigh, he said — " Well, I believe you're right, Kate ; but, then, what am I to do ? If I don't run away, I must live, like poor fluiTy Somerville, on a long-legged stool ; and if I do that, I'll— I'll " As Charley spoke, the door opened, and his father entered. " Well, my boy," said he, seating himself on the bed- side, and taking his son's hand, " how goes it now 1 Head jrettinir all right again ? I fear that Kate has been talk- ing too much to you. Is it so, you little chatterbox V Mr Kennedy parted Kate's clustering ringlets, and kissed her forehead. Charley assured his father that he was almost well, find nnich the better of having Kate to tend him. In fact, he felt so much revived, that he said he would get up and go out for a walk. " Had I not better tell Tom Whyte to saddle the young horse for you?" said his father, half ironically. "No, no, boy, lie still where you are to-day, and get up if you feel better to-morrow. In the mean time, I've come to say good-bye, iis I intend to go home to relieve your rno i it ^-u-.== ■il 64 sno\vflaki:h anu sunjjkams ther's anxiety about you. I'll aoc you again, probahly, the day after to-morrow. Hark you, boy ; I've bet'U talking your alliiii-s over again with Mr Grant, and we've come to the conclu.sion to give you a run in tlie woods for a time. You'll have to be ready to stai*t early in spring with the fii-st brigades for tlio North. So adieu !" Afr Kennedy patted him on the head, and luuitily left the room. A burning blush of shame arose on Charley's cheek as he recollected his late remai'ks ab(jut his father ; and then, recalling the purport of his last wortLs, he sent forth an exulting shout as he thought of the comin<' spring. " Well, now, Charley," said Kate, with an arch smile, " let us talk seriously over ycur arrangements for running away." Charley replied by seizing the pilhjw and throwing it at Lis sister's head ; but, being accustomed to such eccentricities, she anticipated the movement and evaded the blow. " Ah ! Charley," cried Kate, laughing, " you mustn't let your hand get out of practice ! That was a shock- ingly bad shot for a man thirsting to become a bear and bufialo hunter ! '" " I'll make my fortune at once," cried Charley, £us Kate replaced the pillow, " build a wooden castle on the shores of Great Bear Lake, take you to keep house for me, and, when I'm out hunting, you'll fish for whales in the lake, and we'll live there to a good old age ; so good night, Kate, dear, and go to bed !" Kate laughed, gave her brother a palling kiss, and left hi HI. I ITKOM IU.K K.Ul NUKTII. Of) iliillii CnAPTKK VI spring and tlic Voijagmn. mik WiNTEK, with its SHOW and its ice ; wiuter, with its sliarp winds and white drifts ; winter, with its various characteristic occupations and euiploynients, is [uist, and it is spring now. The sun no longer glitters on fields <»f white ; the woodman's axe is no longer heard hacking the oaken billets, to keep alive the roaring tires. That inexpressibly cheerful sound, the merry chime of sk'igh-hells, that tells more of winter than all other sounds together, is no longer heard on the bosom of E-ed Iliver, for the sleiulis are thrown aside as useless lumber — carts and gigs have sup])lanted them. The old Canadian, who usetl to drive the ox with its water-barrel to the ice-hole for his daily supply, has substituted a small cart with wheels for the old sleigh that used to glide so smoothly over the snow, and fjrit so sharply on it in the more than usually frosty mornings in the days gone by. The trees have lost their white patches, and the clumps of willows, that used to look like islands in the prairie, have disa})peared, as the carpeting that gave them prominence ha^ dissolved. The aspect of everything in the isolated settlement has changed. The winter is gone, and sjniiig — bi'ight, beauti- ful, hilarious spring — has come again. V,' -.r i, «6 SNOWFLAKliS AM) SUNUliAM.S ( hy tliftse who have never kiio\VTi an arctic winter, thr delights of an arctic spring can never, we fear, be fully ai»preolatod or unclerstood. Contrast is one of its strongest elements ; indeed, we might say, the element which gives to all the others peculiar zest. Life in the arctic regions is like one of Turner's pictures, in which the lights are strong, the shadows deej), and the tout-ensemble hazy and romantic. So cold and prolonged is the winter, that the first mild breath of spring breaks on the senses like a zephyr from the plains of paradise. Everything bursts suddenly into vigorous life, after the long death-like sleep of Nature ; as little children buret into the romi)ing gaieties of a new day, after the deep repose of a long and tranquil night. The snow melts, the ice breaks up, and rushes in broken masses, heaving and tossing in the ris-ing floods, that grind and whirl them into the ocean, or into those great fresh-water lakes that vie with ocean itself in magnitude and grandeur. The buds come out and the leaves appear, clothing all nature with a bright refreshing green, which derives additional brilliancy from sundry patches of snow, that fill the deep creeks and hollows everywhere, and form ephemeral foun- tains whose waters continue to supply a thousand rills for many a long day, until the fierce glare of the summer sun prevails at last and melts them all away. Ptcd River flows on now to mix its long pent-up waters with Lake Winipeg. Boats are seen rowing about upon its waters, as the settlere travel from place to place ; and wooden canoes, made of the hoUowed-out trunks of large trees, shoot across from shore to shore, — these canoes being a substitute for bridges, of which there are none, although the settlement lies on both sides of the river. Birds havf .^ FltOM THE KAK NORTH. 6: itor, thr be fully of its element Life ill \ires, in and the •olonged J breaks )aradise. fter the ill bui-st be deep cits, the ing and rl tlieiii ces that The nature litional le deep il foun- id rills fummer waters it upon ; and f large s being though Is havf now entered upon the scene, their wild crien and ceaseless fli'^ht adding to it a cheerful activity. Ground .squirrels pop up out of their holes, to ba.sk their round, fat, beauti- tuU^-striped little bodies in the sun, or to gaze in admi- ration at the farmer, as he urges a pair of veri/ slow-going oxen, that drag the plough at a pace which induces one to believe that the wide field ma>/ possibly be ploughed up by the end of next year. Frogs whistle in the marshy grounds so loudly, that men new to the country believe they are being regaled by the songs of millions of birds. There is no mistake about their whistle. It is not merely like a whistle, but it is a whistle, shrill and continuous ; and, us the swamps swarm with these creatures, the song never ceases for a moment, although each individual frog creates only C7ie little gush of music, composed of half-a-dozen ti-ills, and then stops a moment for breath before com- mencing the second bar. Bull-frogs, too, though not so numerous, help to vary the sound by croaking voci- ferously, as if they understood the value of bass, and were glad of having an opportunity to join in the uni- versal hum of life and joy which rises everywhere, from the river and the sv/amp, the forest and the prairie, to svclcome back the spring. Such was the state of things in Red River oi^e beautiful morning in April, when a band of voyageurs lounged in scattered groups about the front gate of Fort Garry. They were as fine a set of picturesque manly fellows as one could desire to see. Their mode of life rendered them healthy, hardy, and good-humoured, with a strong dash of recklessness — perhaps too much of it — in some of the younger men. Being descended, generally, from Fi-ench-Canadian si'rei and Indian mothers, they united I 68 SNOWFLAKKS \SD SUNBKAJVIS some of the good, uiul not a tt;w cjf the bad, qualities of both, mentally as well tis physically ; coml)ining the light, gay-hearted spirit, and full muscular frame of the Cana- dian, with the fierce ])assions and active habits of the Indian. And tliis wildness of disposition was n t a little fostered by the nature of their usual occupations. They were employed during a great part of the year in navi- gating the Hudson's Bay Company's boats, laden with furs and goods, through the labyrinth of rivers and lakes that stud and intersect the whole continent, or they were engaged in pursuit of the bisons,* which roam the prairies in vast herds. They were dressed in the costume of the country ; most of them wor i light-blue cloth capotes, girded tightly round them by scarlet or crmisou worsted belts. Some of them had blue, and others scarlet cloth leggins, orna- mented more or less with stained porcupine quills, coloured silk, or variegatod beads ; while some might Ije seen clad in tlie leathern coats of winter, — deer-skin dressed like chamois leather, fringed all round with little tails, and ornamented much in the same way as those already described. The heavy winter mocavssins and dufHe socks, which gave to their fe(!t the appearance of being afUicted with gout, were now i-eplaced by mocassins of a lighter and more elegant character, having no socks below, and fitting tightly to the feet like gloves. Some wore hats similar to those made of silk or beaver, which are worn by ourselves in Britain, but so bedizened with scarlet cock-tail feathers, and silver cords and tassels, as to leave the original form of the head-dress a matter of great un- certainty. These hats, however, are only used on high ♦ These miimals are Hlwnys called biiflfiiloes by Aniei lean luuiters and fur trade. higli and fur t KROM THK PAR NORTH. 69 occasions, unci chiefly by the fops. Most of the men wore coarse blue cloth caps with peaks, and not a few discarded head-pieces altogether, under the impression, apparently, that nature had supplied a covering, which was in itself sufHcient, These costumes varied not only in character but in quality, according to the circumstances of the wearer ; some being highly ornamental and mended — evinchig the felicity of the owner in the possession of a La)od wife — while others were soiled and torn, or but slightly ornamented. The voijaijcurs were collected, as we have said, in groups. Here stood a dozen of the youngest — consequently the most noisy and showily dressed — laughing loudly, gesticulating violently, and bragging tremendously. Near to them were collected a number of sterner spirits — men of middle age — with all the energy, and muscle, and bone of youth, but without its swagger- ing hihirity, — men whose powers and nerves had been tried over and over again amid the stirring scenes of a voyageur^s life ; men whose heads were cool, and eyes sharp, and hands ready and powerful, in the mad whirl uf boiling rapids, in the sudden attack of wild beast and hostile man, or in the unexpected approach of any danger ; men who, having been well tried, needed not to boast, and who, having carried off triumphantly their respective brides many years ago, needed not to decwate their per- sons with the absurd finery that characterized their younger brethren. They were comparatively few in number, but they composed a sterling band, of which every man was a hero. Among them were those who occupied the high positions of bowman and steersman ; and when we tell the reader that on these two men fre- quHutly hangs the safety of a boat, with all its crew and 4 i «;! \\ ■ 't if :U ( i 70 3N0WFLAKES AND SnNBEAMS h lading, it will be easily understood how needful it is that they should be men of iron L.eive and strength of mind. Boat-travelling in those regions is conducted in a way that would astonish most people who dwell in the civilised quarters of the globe. The country being intersected in all directions by great lakes and rivers, these have been adopted as the most convenient highways, along which to convey the supplies and bring back the furs from out- posts. Kivers in America, however, as in other parts of the world, are distinguished by sudden ebullitions and turbulent points of character, in the shape of rapids, falls, and cataracts, up and down which neither men nor boats can by any possibility go with impunity ; consequently, on arriving at such obstructions, the cargoes are carried overland to navigable water above or below the falls (as the case may be), then the boats are dragged over and launched, again reloaded, and the travellers proceed. This operation is called " mahing a portage ; " and as these portages vary from twelve yards to twelve miles in length, it may be readily conceived that a voyageurs life is not an easy one by any means. This, however, is only one of his difficulties. Rapids occur which are not so dangerous a^ to make a " portage " necessary but are sufficiently turbulent to render the descent of them perilous. In such cases, the boats, being lightened of part of their cargo, are run down, and fre- quently they descend with full cargoes and crews. It is then that the whole management of each boat devolves upon its bowman and steersman. The rest of the crew, or middlemen as they are called, merely sit still and look on, or give a stroke with their oars if required ; while the steersman, with powerful sweeps of his heavy oar, directs ^111 w mOM THE FAR NORTH. 71 I: t I,- the the flying boat as it bounds from surge to surge like a thing of life ; and the bowman stands erect in front to assist in directing his comrade at the atera, liaving a strong and long pole in his hands, with which, ever and anon, he violently forces the boat's-head away from sunken rocks, against which it might otherwise strike and be stove in, capsized, or seriously damaged. Besides the gi'oups already enumerated, there were one or two others, composed of grave, elderly men, whose wrinkled brows, gray hairs, and slow, quiet step, shewed that the strength of their days was past ; although their upright figures and warm brown complexions ga\e pro- mise of their living to see many summers still. These were the principal steersmen and old guides — men of renown, to whom the others bowed as oracles, or looked up as fathers ; men whose youth and manhood had been spent in roaming the trackless "dldernoss and who were, therefore, eminently qualified to guide brigades through the length and breadth of the land ; men whose power of threading their way among the perplexing intricacies of the forest had become a second nature, a kind of instinct, that was as sure of attaining its end as the instinct of the feathered tribes, which brings the swallow, after a long absence, with unerring certainty back to ils former haunts iigain in spring ■-r \ 72 SVOVVFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS OHAPTKR VII kn ho. ail' to an4 ' The Store. At whatever establishment in the fiir-trador's dominionH you may cliance to alight, you will find a particular build- ing which is surrounded by a halo of interest ; towards which there seems to be a general leaning on the part of everybody, especially of the Indians, and with which are connected, in the minds of all, the most stirring remi- niscences and pleasing associations. This is the trading store. It is always recognisable, if natives are in the neighbourhoovi, by the bevy of red men that cluster round it, awaiting the coming of the store- keeper or the trader with that stoic patience which is peculiar to Indians. It may be further recognised, by a close observer, by the soiled condition of its walls, occasioned by loungers rubbing their backs perpetually against it, and the peculiar dinginess round the key- hole, caused by frequent applications of the key, which renders it conspicuous beyond all its comrades. Here is contained that which makes the red man's life enjoyable; that which causes his heart to leap, and induces him to toil for montlis and months together in the heat of sum- mer and amid the frost and snow of winter; that whicii actvally accomplishes, what music is mid to achieve, the '■' soothing of the savage breast ; " in short, here are storod up blankets, guns, powder, shot, kettles, axes, and ■(^■i FROM THE FAR NORTH. 73 •^ i -V ■1 knives ; twine for nets, vermilion for war-paint, fish- liooks and scalping knives, capotes, cloth, beads, needles, and a host of miscellaneous articles, much too numerous to mention. Here, also, occur periodical scenes of bustle and excitement, when bands of natives arrive from distant liunting-grounds, laden with rich furs, which are speedily transferred to the Hudson's Bay Company's stores in exchange for the goods afore-mentioned. And many a tough wrangle has the trader on such occasions witli sharp natives, who might have graduated in Billingsgate — so close are they at a bargain. Hei'e, too, voyageurs are supplied with an equivalent for their wages, part in advance, if they desire it (and they generally do desire it), and part at the conclusion of their long and arduous voyages. It is to one of t' f^se stores, reader, that we wish to in- troduce you now, that you may witness the men of the North brigade receive their advances. The store at Fort Garry stands on tlie right of the fort, as }')U enter by the front gate. Its interior resembles that of the other stores in the country, being only a little largo i-. A counter encloses a s])ace sufficiently wide to adiu t a dozen men, and serves to keep back those who are mort! eager than the rest. Inside this counter, at the time we wi'ite of, stood our friend Peter Mactavi.sh, who waa tl /" nresiding genius of the scene. " Sliut the door now, and lock it," said Peter, in an authoritative tone, after eight or ten young voyageurs had crushed into the space in front of the counter. " I'll not supply you with so much as an ounce of tobacco if you let in another man." Pet^r needed not to repeat the command. Threo oy I s' it J ;^r': % 't'' ■^' \ "^ 74 SNOWFLAKRS AND SUNBKAMS i i four stalwart shoulders were apj)lied to the door, which shut with a bang like a cannon-shot, and the key was turned. " Come, now, Antoine," began the trader, " we've lots to do, and not much time to do it in, so pray look sharp." Antoine, however, was not to be urged on so easily. He had been meditating deeply all morning on what he should purchase. Moreover, he had a sweetheart ; and, of course, he had to buy something for her, before setting out on Ids travels. Besides?, Antoine was six feet high, and broad shouldered, and well made, with a dark face and glossy black hair ; and he entertained a notion that there were one or two points in his costume which re- quired to be carefully rectified, ere he could consider that he had attained to perfection : so he bnished the long hair off his forehead, crossed liis arms, and gazed around him. " Come, now, Antoine," said Peter, throwing a gi'een blanket at him, " I know you want that to begin with. What's the use of thinking so long about it 1 — eh ? And that, too," he added, throAving him a blue cloth capote. " Anything else 'i " " Oui, oui, monsieur," cried Antoine, as he disengaged himself from the folds of the coat which Peter had tlirown over his head. " Tabac, monsieur ! tabac ! " " Oh, to be sure," cried Peter. " I might have guessed that that was uppermost^ in your mind. Well, how much ^vill you have 1 " rcter began to unwind the fragrant weed off a coil of most appalling size and thickness, which looked like a snake of endless length. " Will that do ?" and he flourished about four feet of the snake before the eyes of the voyagenr. So niOM rilK F,M{ NOIH'H. 7ft ^ Aiitoine accepted tlie (inantity ; and y()iin<^' Jhirvv Soinorville entored the articles against liini in a hook. "Anytliing more, Antoinc;?" said tlie trader. " Ali, some beads, and silks ! — eh ! Olio, Antoine ! By the way, Loui.s, have you seen Annette lately?" Peter turned to another voyafjeur when he put this question, and the voyagevr gave a bi-oad grin as he replied in the affirmative ; while Antoine looked a little coniused. lie did not care much, however, for jesting. So, after getting one or two moi-e artiojes — not forgetting half-a- dozen clay pipes, and a fi^w yards of gaudy calico, which called forth from Peter a second I'eference to Annette — lie bundled uj) his goods, and mad(; way for anotlu-r comrade. Louis Peltier, one of the princij)al guides, and a man of imj)ortance therefore, now stood foi-w^ard. He was ])ro- bably about forty-tive years of age ; had a plain, olive- coloured countenance, surrounded by a ma,ss of long, jet lilack hair, which he inherited, along with a })air of dark piercing eyes, from his Indian mother ; and a robust, iieavy, yet active frame, which bore a stnmg resemblance to what his Canadian father's had been many years before. His arms, in particular, were of herculean mouhl, a\ ith large swellinjj veins, and stronglv-marked mus«.'les. Tin s seemed, in fact, just formed for the purpose of ])ulling tin lu■a^T sweep of an inland boat among strong rapids. His face combined an expression of stern resolution with <;r(>at good-humour ; and, truly, his countenance did not belie him, for he was known among his comra'los ns the nio'^t courageous, and, at the same time, the most pe.T'^able man in the settlement. Lo\iis T^»ltier was singular in pn«!- sessiDg the 1att(M- qiiaiitv. fov ns'^n red 1v, the lusM I. reeds I! mh 76 SNOW FLAKES AND SUNBEAMS whatever other good points they boast, — cannot lay claim to very gentle or dove-like disp()siti(jns. llis gray capote and blue leggins were decorated with no unusual orna- ments, and the scarlet belt which encircled his massive figure was the only bit of colour he displayed. The younger men fell respectfully into the rear, as Louis stepped forward, and begged jjardon for coming so early in the day. " Mais, monsieur," he said, " I have to look after the boats to-day, and get them ready for a start to-morrow." Peter Mactavish gave Louis a hearty shake of tV > hand before proceeding to supply his wants, which -<-d bimple and moderate, excepting in the article of tobac, in the use of which he was m-moderate — being an inveterate smoker ; so that a considerable portion of the snake had to be un- coiled for his benefit, " Fond as ever of smoking, Louis 1 " said Peter Mac- tavish, as he handed him the coil. *' Oui, monsieur — very fond," answered the guide, smell- ing the weed. " Ah, this is very good. I must take a good supply this voyage, because I lost the half of my roll last year ; " and the guide gave a sigh as he thouglit of the overwhelming bereavement. " Lost the half of it, Louis ! " said Mactavish. " Why, how was tl^at ] You must have lost more than half your spirits with it !" " Ah ! oui, I lost all my spirits, and my comrade Franij'ois at the same time !" "Dear me!" exclaimed the clerk, bustling about the store while the guide continued to talk. " Oui, monsieur — oui. I lost him, and my tabac, and my spirits, and very nearly my life, all in o)ie mo- ment !" i I FROM THE FAR NORTH. ( / y claim r capote 1 orna- massive rear, as iiing so liave to ' a start ' hand i bimple t}ie use smoker ; be lin- er Mac- , smell- take a of my tbouLi^ht " Why, ilf your juiurade out the tabac, ))ie mo I i " Wliy ! — how came that about ?" aaid Pster, pausing in his work, and laying a liandfui of pipes on the counter. " Ah ! monsieur, it was very sad (merci, monsieur, merci, thirty pipes, if you please), and 1 thought at the time tliat I should give up my vo>/a(jeur life, and remain altogether in t!ie s^>tt^ement with my oiil womau. Mais, monsieur, that wius not possible. When I s[)oke of it to my old woman, she called nie an old woman ; and, you know, monsieur, that two old women never could live tuirether m T)eace for twelve moutlia under the same roof So here I am, you see, ready again for the voyage." The vot/ageurs, who had drawn round T^oiiis when he alluded to an anecdote which they had often heard before, but were never weary of hearing over again, laughed loudly at this sa]ly, and urged the guide to relate the story to " tiwusieur,'^ who, nothing loath to suspend his operations for a little, leaned his arms on the counter, iuid said — *' Tell us all about it, Louis ; I am anxious to know how you managed to come by so many losses all at one time.'' " Bien, monsieur, I shall soon relate it, for the story is very short.'' Marry Somerville, Avho was entering the pi[»cs in Louis's account, hud just set down the figures "30" when Louis cleared his throat to begin. Not having the mental forti- tude to finish the line, he dropped his pen, s})rang off his stool, which he upset in so doing, jumped up, sitting-ways, upon the counter, and gazed with breathless interest into the guide's face as he spoke. " It was on a cold, wet afternoon," said Louis, " that wi' were descending the Hill river, at a part of the ra]ole was twice as loug and twice as thick as any other ])ole in the boat, and he twisted it about just like a fiddU'stick. I remember well the night before we came to the rapids, as he was sitting by the tire which was Idazing up among the pine branches that overhung us, he said that he wanted a good pole for the rapids next day, and with that he jumped up, laid hold of an axe, and went back into the woods a bit to get one. When he niturned, he brought a young tree on his shoulder, which he began to strip of its branches and bark. ' Ijouis,' snys he, ' this is hot work, give us a pipe, so I rummaged about for some tobacco, but found there was none left in my bag ; so I went to my kit and got out my roll, about three fatlioms or so, and cutting half of it oif, T went to the fire nri'I twisted it round his neck 3i -<1 jgP FltoM TMi; I'AK NOUTII. 79 two OT iter, aa a' ]tur- L()[> tlie t them ', I can ^iiin, J lie toj), Well, ' luiine, s. lie •laiiket, I as big il do to I were JA\, he list-rate (I twice isted it le night by the los tliat for the lid hold ^et one. on his les and a pipe, d there and got mg haU lis nook f bv way of a joke, juid he said he'd wear it u.s a necklaoe idl night— and so he did, too, and forgot to take it otl' in iho nioniing ; and when we came near the ra|»id.s I ciiuidirt get at my bag to stow it away, so, says J, ' Fiaiiijois, ypeared headdo most into the foaming water, with my tobacco coiled round his neck ! As we Hew past the place, one of his arms appeared, and I made a grab at it, and caught him by the t>leeve ; but the eflbrt upset myself, and over I went too. Fortunately, however, one of my men caught me by the foot and held on like a vice ; but the force of the current iovG Fran(^ois' sleeve out of my gras}), and I was dragged into the boat again just in time to see my comrade's legs and arms going like the sails of a wind-mill, as he rolled over several times and disai)i)eared. Well, we put ashore the moment we got into still water, and then five 01 six of us started otf on foot to look for Francois \ ^^ W^ h: r ' 'U « * IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V / O :a tA LO I.I 1.25 2.2 1^ litt 1: U [ 2.0 1.8 M. 11.6 6" — V] <^ /}. / '<^1 ?v ^#.'^ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ;^^\ %^ ■1>^ ;\ \ ^ n? # 80 HNfAVFLAKKS AND SUNBKAMS i \ Alter half-uu-hour's searcli, we found him pitched upon a flat rock in the middle of tlie stream like a bit of drift-wood. We immediately waded out to the rock and l^rought him ashore, where we lighted a fire, took off all his clothes, and rubbed him till he began to show signs of life again. But you may judge, mes gar(,*ons, of my misery, when I found that the coil of tobacco was gone. It had come off his neck during his struggles, and there wasn't a vestige of it left, except a bright red mark on the throat, where it had nearly strangled him. When he began to recover, he put his hand up to his neck as if feeling for something, and muttered faintly, ' the tobac' ' Ah, niorbleu ! ' said I, ' you may say that ! Where is it ] ' Well, we soon brought him round, but he had swallowed so much water that it damaged his lungs, and we had to leave him at the next post we came to, and so I lost my friend, too." " Did Francois get better I " said Charley Kennedy, in a voice of great concern. Charley had entered the store by another door, just as the guide began his story, and had listened to it un- observed with breathless interest. ** Recover ! Oh, oui, monsieur, he soon got well again." " Oh, I'm so glad," cried Charley. " But I lost him for that voyage," added the guide ; " and I lost my tabac for ever ! " " You must take better care of it this time, Louis," said Peter Mactavish, as he resumed his work, " That I shall, monsieur," replied Louis, shouldering his goods and quitting the store, while a short, slim, active, little Canadian took his place. " Now, then, Baptiste," said Mactavish, " you want a " out |i,ii,U FROM THE FAR NORTH. 81 " Blanket, monsieur." *' Good. And " " A capote, monsieur ! ' u And " " An axe " "Stop, stop !" shouted Harry Somerville from his desk. " Here's an entry in Louis's account tlmt I can't make out — 30 sometliing or otlier — what can it have been ?" " How often," said Mactavish, going up to him with a look of annoyance — " how often have I told you, Mr Somerville not to leave an entry half-finished on any account ? " " I didn't know that I left it so," said Harry, twisting his features, and scratching his head in great perplexity. " What ccm it have been, 30 — 30 — not blankets, eh 1 " (Marry was becoming banteringly bitter.) " He couldn't have got thirty guns, could he ] or thirty knives, or thirty copper kettles V " Perhaps it was thirty pounds of tea," suggested Charley. " No doubt it was thirty pipfs,'" said Peter Mactavish. " Oh, that was it!" cried Harry, "that was it! thirty pipes to be sure — what an ass I am ! " "And pray what is tlutt ?''' said Mactavish, pointing sarcastically to an entry in the previous account — " 5 yanh of superfine Annette ? Really, Mr Somerville, I wish you would pay more attention to your work and less to the conversation." " Oh dear !" cried Harry, becoming almost hysterical under the combined effects of chagrin at making so many mistakes, and suppressed merriment at the idea of selling Annettes by the yard. " Oh, dear me ! '' f' i i n A'" '! 82 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNliEAMH Harry could say no mow, Init siiiflbd Ids jiaudkerchief iiitcj Ills mouth and turned away. " Well, sir," said the offended Peter, ** when you have lau^lied to your entire satisfaction, we will go on with our work, if you please." " All right," cried Harry, suppressing his feelings with a strong effort, " what next V Just then a tall, raw-boned man entered the store, and rudely thrusting Ba})tiste aside, asked if he could get his 8Ui)plies now. "No," said Mactavish, sharply; "you'll take your turn like the rest." The new comer was a native of Orkney, a country from which, and the neigh))Ouring islands, the Fur Company almost exclusively recruits its staff of labourers. These men are steady, useful servants, although inclined to be slow and lazy at Just ; but they soon get used to the country, and rapidly improve under the example of the active Cauadians and half-breeds with whom they aa- sociate ; some of them are the best servants the Company possess. Hugh Mathison, however, was a very bad s{)ecimen of the race, being rough and coarse in his mannera, and very lazy withal. Upon receiving the trader's answer, Hugh turned sulkily on his heel and strode towards the door. Now, it happened that Baptiste's bundle lay just behind bim, and. on lurnin^ij to leave the place, he tripped over 1 and stumbled, whereat the voyayeurs burst into an ironical laugh (for Hugh was /ot •A fjivourite). "Confound your trash!" le cried, giving the little bundle a kick that scattered everything over the floor. " Crapaud ! " said Baptiste, betuee) ; liis set tf^t^th, while r^ hi I^J FROM THE FAK NORTH. 83 tL.> the •Dt ile his eyes Hashed angrily, and ho stood up before Iluyb with clenched fists, " what mean you by that 1 eh ? " The big Scotchman held his little opponent in con- tempt ; so that, instead of putting himself on the de- fensive, he leanenl his back against the door, thrust his hands into his pockets, and requested to know " what that was to him." Baptiste was not a man of many words, and this reply, coupled with the insolent sneer with which it was uttered, caused him to plant a sudden and well-directed blow on tlie point of Hugh's nose, which flattened it on his face, and brought the back of his head into violent contact with ths door, "Well done!" shouted the men; "bravo, Baptiste! regard ez le 7iez, mes enfans ! " "Hold!" cried Mactavish, vaulting the counter, and intercepting Hugh as he rushed upon his antagonist ; " no fighting here, you blackguards ! If you want to do that, go outside the fort ; " and Peter, opening the door, thrust the Orkneyman out. In the meantime, Baptiste gathered up his goods and left the store, in company with several of his friends, vowing that he would wreak his vengeance on the " gros chien" before the sun should set. He had not long to wait, however, for, just outside the crate he forird HncL. still smarting under the pain and indignity of the blow, and ready to pounce upon him like a cat on a mouse, Baptiste instantly threw down his bundle, and prepared for battle by discarding his coat. Every aation has its own peculiar method of fighting, a!id its own ideas of what is honourable and dishonour ■1' ' i' 1^ H i1 ' v 84 SNOWFLAKKS AND SUNBEAMS 11 i I u I. , able in combat. The English, as every one knows, have particularly stringent rules regarding the part of the body which may or may not be hit with propriety, and count it foul disgrace to strike a man when he is down ; although, by some strange perversity of reasoning, they deem it right and fair to fall upon him while in this helpless con- dition, and burst him if possible. The Scotchman has less of the science, and we are half inclined to believe that he would go the length of kicking a fallen opponent ; but on this point we are not quite positive. In regard to the style adopted by the half-breeds, however, we have no doubt. They fight amj way and every way, without reference to rules at all ; and, really, although we may bring ourselves into contempt by admitting the fact, we think they are quite right. No doubt the best course of action is not to fight ; but, if a man does find it necessm^y to do so, surely the wisest plan is to get it over at once (as the dentist suggested to his timorous patient), and to do it in the most effectual manner. Be this as it may, Baptiste flew at Hugh and alighted upon him, not head first, or fist first, or feet first, or any- thing first, but altogether — in a heap, as it were ; fist, feet, knees, nails, and teeth, all taking eflFect at one and the same time, with a force so irresistible that the next moment tliey both rolled in the dust together. For a minute or so they struggled and kicked like a couple of serpents, and then, bounding to their feet again, they began to perform a war-dance round each other, revolving their fists at the same time in, we pre- sume, the most approved fashion. Owing to his bulk and natural laziness, which rendered jumping about like a jack-in-the-box impossible, Hugh Mathison preferred to 1 " * ■ ■— ^ M PB FUUM TllK FAU NCMtTIl. 85 like feet each pre- and Ke a to ritaiid on the defensive ; while Ids lighter opponent, giving way to the natural bent of his mercurial temperament and corporeal predilections, comported himself in a manner that cannot l)e likened to anything mortal or immortal, human or inhuman, unless it be to an insane cat, whose veins .-an wild-fire instead of blood. Or, perhaps, we might liken him to that ingenious piece of firework called a zigzag cracker, which explodes with unexpected and repeated suddenness, changing its position in a most per- plexing manner at every crack. Ba})tiste, after the first onset, danced backwards with surprising lightness, glaring at his adversary the while, and rapidly revolving his fists as before mentioned ; then, a terrific yell was heard ; his head, arms, and legs became a sort of whirling conglome- rate ; the spot on which he danced wjis suddenly vacant, and, at the same moment, Mathison received a bite, a scratch, a dab on the nose, and a kick in the stomach all at once. Feeling that it was impossible to plant a well directed blow on such an assailant, he waited for the next onslaught ; and the moment he saw the explosive object flying through the air towards him, he met it with a crack of his heavy fist, which, happening to take effect in the middlef of the chest, drove it backwards with about as much velocity as it had approached, and poor Baptiste measured his length on the ground. "Oh pauvre chien !" cried the spectators, "c'est fini !" " Not yet," cried Baptiste, as he sprang with a scream to his feet again, and began his dance with redoubled energy, just as if all that had gone before was a mere sketch — a sort of playful rehearsal, as it were, of what was now to follow. At this moment Hugh stumbled over a canoe-paddle and fell headlong into Baptiste's amis, as he 'i^\- m fr( "I I .1; ' ! 8G SNOWKLAKES AND SUNBKAMS was iu the very act of making one of his violent descents. Tliis unlooked-ioi" occurrence brouirlit them both to a Budden pause, })artly from necessity and partly from sur- prise. Out of this state Baptiste rt past his liome, and recognised his little ones screaming farewell, and seeking to attract their sirens attention by tc>s;--n;i:; thc'r ^-luiVjby ;ir'u_s. or ;i;;(irish"jig round their heads tiie brig] it vermilion l)lades of canoe- paddles. It was interesting, too, to hear the men sliout as they ran a small rai)id wliich o'^/urs aV»out the lower part of the settlement, and dashed in full careei" up to the Lower Fort — whicli stands about twenty miles down the river from Fort (:^a,rry — and then sped onward ngain with unabated energy, until they passed the Indian settle- ment, with its scattered wooden buildings and its small church j passed the last cottage on the banlr. ; passed the low swampy land at the river's mouth ; and emerged at last, as evening closed, upon the wide, calm, seorlike bosom of Lake Winipeg. Charley saw and heard all this, during the whole of that long, exciting afternoon ; and, as he heard and saw it, his heai"t swelled as if it would burst its prison-bars ; his voice rang out wildly in the chonises, regardless alike of tune and time, and his spirit boiled within him as he quafled the tirst sweet draught of a rover's life — a life in M FROM THE FAU NOHTH, 97 m the woods — the wild, tree, enchanting woods, where all appeared in his eyes bright, and sunny, and gi-een, and beautiful ! As the sun's last rays sank in the west, and the clouds, losing their crimson hue, began gradually to fade into gray, the boats' heads were turned landward. In a few seconds they gi'ounded on a low point covered mth small trees and bushes, which stretched out into the lake. Here Louis I'eltier had resolved to bivouac for the night. " Now then, mes gar^'ons," he exclaimed, leaping ashore, and helping to drag the boat a little way on to the beach ; " vite ! vite I a terre 1 a terre ! Take the kettle, Pierre, and let's have supper." Pierre ne«^'"led '^o second bidding. He grasped a large tin kettle and an ix.i'oi, with which he hurried into a clump of trees. Laying doxv^n the kettle, which he had pre- vioufi'y filled with water from the lake, he singled out a dead tree, and with three powerful blows of his axe brought it to the ground. A few additional strokes cut it up into logs, varying from three to five feet in length, wliich he piled together, first placing a small bundle of dry grass and twigs beneath them, and a few si)linters of wood which he cut from off one of the logs. Havinfj accomplished this, Pierre took a flint and steel out of a gaily oi'uamented pouch, which depended from his waitit, and vv^hich went by the name of a Jire-bag, in con- sequejice of its containing the implements for procuring that element. It might have been as appropriately named tobacco-hag or sinoki)ig-bag, however, seeing that such things had more to do with it, if 2)ossible, than fira Having struck a spark, which he took captive by means jf a piece of tiuder, he ])laced it in the cn to t\w fire as tliey staggered in front of it, and ended in their tumbling against the tent and nearly breaking its pohis and fasteningH, to the horror and indignation of Mr Park, who was smoking his pipe within, quietly waiting till Harry's superabundant glee was over, that he might get an explanation of his un- expected arrival among them, " Ah ! they will be good vot/afjeurs,'" cried one of tlie men, as he looked on at this scene. " Oui ! oui ! good boys, active lads," replied the others, laughing. The two boys rose hastily. " Yes," cried Harry, breathless, but still excited, " I'm going all the way, and a great deal farther. I'm going to hunt bulFaloes in the Saskatchewan, and grizzly bears in the — the — in fact everywhfn*e ! I'm going down the Mackenzie River — I'm going mad, I believe ; " and Hairy gave another caper and another shout, and tossed his caj) high into the air : having been recklessly tossed, it came down into the fire : — when it went in it was dark blue, but when Harry dashed into the flames, in con- sternation, to save it, it came out of a rich brown colour. " Now, youngster," said Mr Park, " when you've done capering I should like to ask you one or two questions What brought yon here ?" " A canoe," said Harry, inclined to be impudent. " Oh ! and pray, for what purpose have y^ou come here V " These are my credentials," handing him a letter. l\Ir Park opened the note and read. " Ah ! oil ! Saskatchewan — hum — yes — outpost — wild r. ■ I ; M^-« il m '\ I 106 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS boy — just so — keep him at it — ay ! fit for nothing elsa So," said Mr Park, fokling the paper, " I find that Mr Grant lias sent you to take the place of a young gentle- man we expected to pick up at Norway House, but who is required elsewhere j and that he wishes you to see a good deal of rough life — to be made a trader of, in fact. Is that your desire ?" " That's the very ticket !" replied Harry, scarcely able to restrain his delight at the prospect. " Well, then, you had better get suppor and turn in, for you'll have to begin your new life by rising at three o'clock to-morrow morning. Have you got a tent 1 " " Yes," said Harry, pointing to his canoe, which liad been brought to the fire and turned bottom up by tlie two Indians to whom it belonged, and who were reclining under its shelter enjoying their pipes, and watching with looks of great gravity the doings of Harry and his friend. " I'll at will return whence it came to-morrow. Have you no other ?" " Oh, yes," said Harry, pointing to the overhanging branches of a willow close at hand, '' lots more." Mr Park smiled grimly, and turning on liis heel re- entered the tent and continued his pipe, while Harry flung himself down beside Charley under the bark canoe. This species of " tent" is, however, by no means a per- fect one. An Indian canoe is seldom three feet broad — frequently much narrower — so that it only aflfords shelter for the body as far down as the waist, leaving the extremities ex})osed. True, one may double up as nearly as possible into half one's length, but this is not a desirable position to maintain throughout an entire night Sonie- times, when the wenfher is very bad, an additiounl prr^ kHi:l. 'jsHfl'! FROM THE FAR NOUTIl. 107 P Rffll ; ;i tection is procui'ed by leaning several poles against the bottom of the canoe, on the weatli ; side, in such a way as to slope considerably over the front ; and over these are spread pieces of birch bark or branches and moss, so as to form a screen, which is an admirable shelter. But this involves too much time and labour to be adopted during a voyage, and is only done when the travellerj are under the necessity of remaining for some time in one })lac(;. The canoe in which Harry arrived was a pretty large one, and looked so comfortable when arranged for the night, that Charley resolved to abandon his own tent and Mr Park's society, and sleep with his friend. " I'll sleep with you, Harry, my boy," said he, after Harry had explained to him in detail the cause of his being sent away from Red Kiver ; which was no other than that a young gentleman, as Mr Parle said, who was to have gone, had been ordered elsewhere. " That's right, Charley, spread out our blankets, while r get som^e supper, like a good fellow." Harry went in search of the kettle while his friend prepared their bed. First, he examined the ground on which the canoe lay, and found that the two Indians had already taken posses- sion of the only level places under it. " Humph !" he ejaculated, half inclined to rouse them up, but imme- diately dismissed the idea as unworthy of a voyageur^ Besides, Charley was an amiable, unselfish fellow, and N uld rather have lain on the top of a dozen stump? than have made himself comfortable at the expense of any one else. He paused a moment to ronsidor. On one side was a hollow, "that," (as he soliloquized to himself) " would break the back of a buffalo." On tiio other side 8 M I '1 "1 i it. m m 1^ ) 1 % t n < p !"i ! «.' li » If' f I ■4 I \ ' i ■: 108 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS were a dozen little stumps surrounding three very pro- minent ones, that threatened destruction to the ribs of any one who should venture to lie there. But Charley did not pause to consider long. Seizing his axe, he laid about him vigorously with the head of it, and in a few seconds dcistroyed all the stumps, which he carefully col- lected, and, along with some loose moss and twigs, put into the hollow, and so tilled it up. Having improved things thus far, he rose and strode out of the circle of lidit into the wood. In a few minutes he re-appeared, bearing a young spnice-fir tree on his shoulder, wliich, with the axe, he stripped of its branches. Tliese branches were flat in form, and elastic — admirably adapted for making a bed on ; and when Charley spread them out under the cnnoe in a pile of about four inches in depth, by four feet broad, and six feet long, the stumps and tlie hollow were over- whelmed altogetlier. He then ran to Mr Park's tent, and fetched tlience a small flat bundle, covered witli oil- cloth, and tied with a rope. Opening this, lie tossed out its contents, which were two large and ' ery tliick blankets — one green, the otlier white ; a particularly minute feather pillow, a pair of moccasins, a broken comb, and a bit of soap. Then he opened a similar bundle, containing Harry's bed, which he likewise tossed out ; and then kneeling down, he spread the two white blankets on tlie top of the branches, the two green blankets above these, and the two pillows at the top, as far under the shelter of the canoe as ho could push them. Having completed the whole in a manner that would have dojie credit to a chambermaid, 1k> continued to sit on his knees, with his hands m h'S pockets, smiling complacently, and saying, " capital— fii'st-rate ! " FROM THE FAR NORTH. 109 m ■ Here we are, Charley. Have a second supper — do ! " Harry placed the smoking kettle by the head of the bed ; and squatting do^v^l beside it, began to eat, as only a boy can eat who has had nothing since breakfast. Charley attacked the kettle too — as he said, " out of sympathy," although he " wasn't hungry a bit." And really, for a man who was not hungry, and had supped half-an-hour before, the aj)petitc of s^ijmpatJnj was wonder- fully strong. But Harry's powers of endurance were now exhausted. He had spent a long day of excessive fatigue and excite- ment, and, having wound it up with a heavy supper, sleep began to assail him with a ^dl ferocity that nothing could resist. He yawned once or twice, and sat on the bed Idinking unmeaningly at the fire, as if he had some- thing to say to it, which he could not recollect just then. He nodded violently, much to his ovra surprise, once or twice, and began to address remarks to the kettle instead of to his friend. " I say, Charley, this won't do. I'm off to bed ! " and, suiting the Jiction to the word, he took off his coat and placed it on his pillow. He then removed his moccasins, which were wet, and put on a dry pair ; and this being all that is ever done in the way of prej)ara- tion before going to bed in the woods, he lay down and |)ulled the green blankets over him. Befoi-e doing so, however, Harry leant his head on his hands and prayed. This was the one link left of the cliain of habit with which he bad left home. Until the period of his dei)arture for the wild scenes of the North- west, Hariy had lived in a quiet, haj)py home in the West Highlands of Scotland, where he had been surrounded by the benign influences of a family, the members of which :,H; • ; IV, i I. 1 i Hill r ii"!' - It' ill 'I m m fii us (■;' no SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS i ■r i; ! < 1 1 'A 5.:! s ■ I J, i ■ were united by the sweet bonds of Christian love — bonds wliicli were strengthened by the additional tie of amia- bility of disposition. From childhood he had been accus- tomed to the routine of a pious and well-regulated house- hold, where the Bible was perused and spoken of with an interest tlipL indicated a genuine hungering and thirsting after righteousness, and where the name of Jesus so\inded often and sweetly on the ear. Under such training, Harry, though naturally of a wild, volatile disposition, was deeply and irresistibly impressed with a reverence for sacred things, which, now that he was thousands of miles away from his peaceful home, clung to him with the force of old habit and association, despite the jeers of comrades, and the evil influences and ungodliness by which he was surrounded. It is true that he was not altogether unhurt by the withering indifference to God that he beheld on all sides. Deep impression is not renewal of heart. But early training in the path of Christian love saved him many a deadly fall. It guarded him from many of the grosser sins into which other boys, who had merely broken away from the restraints of home, too easily fell. It twined round him — as the ivy encircles the oak — with a soft, tender, but powerfid grasp, that hold him back when he was tempted to dash aside all restraint — and held him up, when, in the weakness of his human nature, he was about to fall. It exerted its benign sway over him in the silence of night, when his thoughts reverted to home, and during his waking hours, when he wandered from scene to scene in the wide wilderness; and in after years, when sin pre- vailed, and intercourse with rough men had worn off much of at least the superficial amiability of his character, and to some extent bhmted the finer feelings of his nature, LJ, m FROM THE FAK NOIITII. Ill it clung faintly to him still, in tlie memory of his mother'fs gentle look and tender voice, and never forsook him alto- gether. Home had a blessed and j)Owerful influence on Harry. May God bless such homes, where the ruling power is love! God bless and multiply such homes in tlie earth ! Were there more of them, there would be fewer heart-broken mothers, to weep over the memory of the blooming, manly boys they sent away to foreign climes — with trembling hearts, but high hopes — and never saw them more. They were vessels launched upon the troubled sea of time, with stout timbers, firm masts, and gallant sails- -with all that was necessary above and below, from stem to stern, for battling with the billows of adverse fortune, for stemming the tide of opposition, for riding the storms of persecution, or bounding with a press of canvas before the gales of prosperity ; but without the rudder — without the guiding principle that renders the great power of plank and sail and mtist available; ?^v7/i which the vessel moves obedient to the owner's will ; ivithout which, it drifts about with every current, and sails along with every shifting wind that blows. Yes ; may the best blessings of prosperity and peace rest on such families, whose breads cast continually on the waters, returns to them after many days ! After Harry had lain down, Charley, who did not feel inclined for repose, sauntered to the margm of the lake, and sat down upon a rock. It was a beautiful calm evening. The moon shone faintly through a mass of heavy clouds, casting a pale light on the waters of Lake Winipeg, which stretched, without a ripple, out to the distant horizon. The great fresh- water lakes of America bear a strong resemblance V.i ' I : M I { i i «l ( ■ i. 1 ■ \ ^ ;^ I i; ;i. J •• il'2 S^OWFLAKKS AND SUNBEAMS to tlie sea. fii .storms tlie waves rise mountains high, and break with lieav}^ sullen roar upon a l)cach, com posed, in many places, of sand and jx'bbles ; while they are so large that one not only looks out to a straight horizon, but may even sail out of si■ r !■■■ ii i; ■I •J ■ if i t 1? i . ! i ■ !; i :. i i i ■i' I '\' > i ^ ^ .. If ■• i, ' ,fl M- I 1 114 SNOWJ-'LAJLliS AND SUNBEAMS CIJ^J^TKK X Vtirietiea, V exatioiia, and Vici.-iiilnaw' Life is chequered — tliere is no doubt about that ; w/mt- ever doubts a man may entertain uj>on other subjects, he can have none u})ou this, we feel quite certain. In fact, so tnie is it, that we would not for a moment have drawn the reader's attention to it here, were it not that our exjjerience of life iu the backwoods corroborates the truth — and truth, however well corroborated, is none the worse of getting a little additional testimony now and then, ix. diis sceptical generation. Life is chequered, then, undoubtedly. And life in the backwoods strengthens the proverb, for it is a peculiarly striking and remarkable specimen of life's variegated character. There is a difterence between sailing smoothly along the shores of Lake Winipeg with favouring breezes, and being tossed on its surging billows by the howling of a nor' -west wind, that threatens destruction to the boat, or forces it to seek shelter on the shore. This difference is one of the chequered scenes of which we write, and one that was experienced by the brigade more than once, cluring its passage across the lake. Since we are dealing in truisims, it may not, perhaps, be out of place here to say, that going to bed at night is not by any means getting up in the morning — at least so several of t)ur friends found to be the case when the deep enl ^ a 'Xi FROM TUE FAU NORTH. 115 sonorous voice of Louis Peltier sounded through the camp on the following morning, just as a very faint, scarcely perceptihle, light tinged the eastern sky. " Leve ! leve ! leve !" he cried, " leve ! l^ve ! mes enfans !" Some of Louis' infants replied to the summons in a way that would have done credit to a harlequin. One or two active little Canadians, on hearing the cry of the awful word, leve, rose to their feet with a quick bound, as if they had been keeping up an appearance of sleep as a sort of practical joke all night, on purpose to be ready to leap as the first sound fell from the guide's lips. Others lay still, in the same attitude in which they had fallen asleep, having made up their minds, apparently, to lie there in spite of all the g\ndes in the world. Not a few got slowly into the sitting position, their hair dishevelled, their caps awry, their eyes alternately winking very hard and staring awfully in the vain eflbrt to keep open, and their whole physiognomy wearing an expression of blank stupidity that is peculiar to man when engaged in that struggle which occui's each morning as he endeavours to disconnect and shake off the entanglement of nightly dreams, and the realities of the breaking day. Through- out the whole camp there wa.s a low muffled sound, as of men moving lazily, with broken whispers and disjointed sentences uttered in very deep hoai-se tones, mingled with confused, unearthly noises, which, upon consideration, sounded like prolonged yawns. Gradually these sounds increased, for the guide's " leve^' is inexorable, and the voyageurs fate inevitable. " Oh, dear ! — yei a — a ow" {yawninrj); " hang your Iher (■' i i 116 HNOWFLAkEo aND SLNhKAMS ^ i 1 I «■ n " Uui, vraiment — yei a — a ow — morbleu ! " Eh, wliat's that ? Oh, inisere ! " " Tare an' ages !" (from an Irishman), " an' 1 liad oaly got to shiapo yit ! but — yei a — a ow ! " French and Irish yawns are veiy similar, the onlv difference being, tliat whereaa the Frenchman finishes the yawn resignedly, and springs to his legs, the Irishman finishes it with an energetic gasp, as if he were hurling it remonstratively into the ftice of Fate, turns round again and shuts his eyes doggedly — a piece of bravado which he knows is useless and of very short duration. " Leve ! love!! leve!!!" There was no mistake this time in the tones of Louis's voice. " Emliark, embark, vite! vite!" The subdued sounds of rousing broke into a loud buzz of active preparation, as the men busied themselves in bundling up blankets, carrying down camp-kettles to the lake, launcliing the boats, kicking up lazy comrades, stumbling over and swearing at fallen trees wliich were not visil)le in the cold uncertain hglit of the early da^vn, searching hopelessly, among a tangled conglomeration of leaves and broken branches and crushed herbage, for lost pipes and missing tobacco-pouches. " Hallo ! " exclaimed Harry Somerville, starting sud- denly from his sleeping posture, and unintentionally cramming his elbow into Charley's mouth, " I declare they're all up and nearly ready to start " " That's no reason," replied Charley, *' why you should knock out all my front teeth, is it ? " Just then I\lr Park issued from his tent, dressed and ready to step into his boat. He first gave a glance round ihe camp to see that all the men were moving, then hf -» |r, KKO.M TIIK KAK NORTH. 117 m lookeil up through tlie trees to ascortaiu the present .-^fate, luid, if possible, the future prospects of the weather. Haviug come to a satisfactory couclusiou on that head, l»ti drew forth his jjipc and began to fill it, when his eye fell on the two boys, who were still sitting up in their laii*8, and staring idiotically at the jtlace where the lire had been, as if the white ashes, half-burnt logs, and bits of charcoal, were a sight of the most novel and interesting character, that fdled them with intense ama/x'ment. Mr Park could scarce forbear smilinj;. " Hallo, youngsters, precious voyagciirs you II make, to be sure, if this is tlie way you're going to V)egin. Don't you see that the things are all aboard, and we'll bo ready to start in five minutes, and you sitting there with your neckcloths ofl'?" Mr Park gave a slight sneer when he spoke of neckclotlis, as if he thought, in the first place, that they were quitt superfluous portions of attire, and, in the second place, that, having once put them on, the taking of them olf at night wiis a piece of cfieminacy altogether unworthy of a Nor'wester. Charley and Harry needed no second rebuke. It flashed instantly upon them that, sleeping comfortably under their blankets when the men were bustling about the camp, was extremely inconsistent with the hero c resolves of the previous day. They sprang up, rolled their blankets in the oil-cloths, which they fastened tightly with ropes ; tied the neckcloths, held in such con- tempt by Mr Park, in a twinkling ; threw on their coats, and in less than five minutes were ready to embark They then found that they might have done things more leisurely, as the crews had not yet got ail their traps on I . t i 118 SNOWFLAKKS AND aUN BEAMS ! I r; i It . . « 'i Ir ! i ' boanl, so tli(!y Ix^guii to look arouiul thorn, iiud discovered that cacli had oiuittod to pack up a bhiukot. Very much croHtfalkm at tlu'ir stupidity, thoy pro- ceeded to untie tlie bundles aj^ain, when it became apparent to the eyes of Charley that his friend had put on his capote inside out, which had a j>eculiarly ragged and grotesque efiect. These mistakes were soon rectified, and shouldering their btnls, they carried them r ', \'] ^ ■ i V' '^ *li II : 130 SNO>VFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS cut ofl' a liiinj), which he may devour as he best can ; but there is no going ashore — n(/ resting for dinner. Two great meals are recognised, and the time allotted to their preparation and consumption held inviolable — breakfast and supper ; — the first varying between the houi-s of seven and nine in the morning ; the second about sunset, at which time travellers usually encamp for the night. Of the two meals, it would be difficult to say which is more agreeable. For our own part, we prefer the former. It is the meal to which a man addresses himself with peculiar gusto, especially if he has been astir three or four hours previously in the open air. It is the time of day, too, when the spirits are freshest and highest, animated by the prospect of the work, the difficulties, the plea* sures, or the adventures of the day that has begun ; and clieered by that cool, clear buoyancy of Nature, which belongs exclusively to the happy morning hours, and has led poets in all ages to compare these hours to the first sweet months of spring, or the early yeara of childhood. Voyageurs, not less than poets, have felt the exhilarating influence of the young day, although they have lacked the power to tell it in sounding numbers ; but, where words were wanting, the sparkling eye, the beaming counte- nance, the light step, and hearty laugh, were more powerful exponents of the feelings ^vdthin. Poet, and painter too, might have spent a profitable hour on the shores of that great sequestered lake ; and, as they watched the picturesque groups — clustering round the blazing fires, preparing their morning meal, smoking tlieir pipes, examining and repairing the boats, or sun- ning their stalwart limbs in wild, careless attitudes upon the green sward, — might have found a subject worthy the ! r! e tUOM THE FAK NOKTll. 131 moat brilliant effusions of the pen, or the most gmpliic touches of the pencil. An hour sufficed for breakfast. While it wa.s prepar- ing, the two friends sauntered into the forest in search of game, in whicli tliey were unsuccessful ; in fact, with the exception of the gulls before mentioned, there was not a feather to be seen, — save, always, one or two whisky- johns. Whisky-johns are the most impudent, puff}"", conceited, little birds that exist. Not much larger in reality than span'ows, they nevertheless manage to swell out their feathei*s to such an extent that they apj)ear to be as large as magpies, which they farther resemble in their plumage. Go where you will in the woods of Rupert's Laud, the instant that you light a firo, two or three whisky-johns come down and sit beside you, on a branch, it may be, or on the ground, and generally so near that you cannot but wonder at their recklessness. There is a species of impu- dence which seems to be specially attached to little birds. In them it reaches the highest pitch of perfection. A bold, swelling, arrogant effi'ontery ; a sort of stark, staring, self-complacent, comfortable, and yet innocent impertinence, which is at once irritating and amusing, aggravating and attractive, and wliich is exhibited in the greatest intensity in the whisky -John. He will jump down almost under your nose, and seize a fragment of biscuit or pemican. He will go right into the pemican bag, when you are but a few paces oflf, and pilfer, as it were, at the fountain-head. Or, if these resources are closed against him, he will sit on a twig, within an inch of your head, and look at you as only a whisky-jokn car 'ook. § ■I ^V. I »r I I i:! Ml I I:' 132 SNOWFLAKKS AJ !■ beacli, and their crews actively employed in landing their goods, opening bales that had received damage from the water, and preparing the encampment ; while ever and anon they ^aascd a iiioni*.:ut, -o watv.h the varior.a boats as they flew before the gale, and one by one doubled the friendly promontory. If there is one thing that provokes a voyagenr mere than another, it is being wind-bound on the shorv''S of a large lake. Rain or sleet, heat or cold, icicles forming on the oars, or a broiling sun glaring in a cloudless sky, the stings of sand-flies, or the sharp probes of a million mosquitoes, he will bear with comparative indiflerence ', but being detained by high wind for two, three, or four days together — lying i^\'!.ctively on shore, whcu everything else, it may be, is iavourable — the sun txigbt, the sky blue, the air invigorating', and aU b'lt tlio wino pTo^.'tio.T.-^— ■ is more than his philosophy can carry him through v.^ith equanimity. He grumbles at it ; sometimes makes believe to laugh at it ; very often, we are soriy to say, swears at it ; does his best to sleep through it, but, whatever he does, he does with a bad grace, because he's in a bad humour and can't stand it. For the next three days this was the fate of our friends. Part of the time it rained, when the whole party slept as much as was possible, and then endeavoured to sleep more than was possible, under the shelter afforded by the spreading branches of the trees. Part of the time was fail', with occasional gleams of sunshine, when the men turned out to eat, and smoke, and gamble round the fires j and the two friends sauntered down to a sheltered place on the shore, sunned themselves in a warm nook among the rocks, while they gnzod ruefully at the foaming Inc KROM TlIK F'^AR NOKTIl. 3 9 np billows, told endless stories of what tliey had done in time past, and eq.ually endless prospective adventures that t-hey earnestly hoped should befall tlieni in time to come. Wliiie they were thus engaged, liedfeatlier, the Indian who had cut the ropes so opportunely during the storm, walked dv-wn to thi; shore, and sitting down on a rock not far distant, fell a])parcntly into a reverie " I like that fellow," said Harry, pointing to the Indian. "So do I. He's a sharp, active man. Had it not been for bira we shoidd have had to swim for it." " Indeed, had it not been for him, I should have had to KiiVIc for it," said Harry, with a smile, "for I can't swim" " Ah, tniL;, I forgot that. I wonder wliat the red- t'lcin, as tho guide calls him, is thinking about," added Charley, in a musing tone. " Of home, perhaps, ' sweet home,' " said Hany, with a sigh. "Do you think much of home, Charley, now that you have left it ? " Charley did not reply for a few seconds. He seemed to muse over the question. At last he said, slowly — " Think of home ? I think of little else when I am not talking with you, Harry. My dear mother is always in my thoughts, and my poor old fiither. Home, ay, and darling Kate, too, is at my elbow night and day, with the tears streaming from her eyes, and her ringlets scattered over my shoulder, as 1 saw her the day we parted, beckoning me back again, or reproacliing me for ha\ ing gone away — God bless her ! Yes, I cjften, very (.flen, fchink of home, Harry." 10 Hi ) \ -; t- 1 . i 1 I p MJ ' I ■ 5 ' ! -J I i, I'i m|. ~' 1^^^^: I-' if, ■h ! 1!(» S.VMWri.AKKa VND SUNHEAMS Harry luado no reply. His friend's words had directed his thoughts to a very different and far distant scene — to anotlier Kate, and another father and mother, wlio lived in a glen far away over the waters of the broad Atlantic. He thought of tliem as they used to be when he was one of the number, a unit in the beloved circle, whose absence would have caused a blank there. He thought of the kind voice that used to read the Word of God, and the tender kiss of his mother as they parted for the night. He thought of the dreary day when he left them all behind, and sailed away, in the midst of strangers, across the wide ocean to a strange land. He thought of them now — li'itJiout him — accustomed to his absence, and forget- ful, peiha])s, at times, that he had once been there. As he thought of all this, a tear rolled down his cheek, and when Charley looked up in his face, that tear-drop told plainly that he too thought sometimes of home. " Let us ask Redfeather to tell us sometliing about the Indians," he said, at length, rousing himself. " I have no doubt he has had many adventures in his life j shall we, Charley ? " " By all means. Ho, Redfeather ! are you trying to Btop the wind by looking it out of countenance ? " The Indian rose and walked towards the spot where the boys lay. '* What was Redfeather thinking about," said Charley, adopting the somewhat pompous style of speech occasion- ally used by Indians. " Was he thinking of the white swan and his little ones in the prairie ; or did he dream of giving his enemies a good licking the next time he meets thuin ? " " R*;dfoathcr has no enemies," replied the Indian FKOM THE FAIl NOUTIT. 141 " He was tli inking of the great Manito,* wlio made the wild winds, and the gi'eat lakes, and tlie forest." " And, pray, good Redfeather, wliat did your tlioughtp tell you?" " Tlicy told me that men are very weak, and very foolish, and wicked ; and that Manito is very good and patient to let tliera live." " That is to say," cried Hany, who was surprised and a little nettled to hear what he called the heads of a ser- mon from a redskin, " that yon, being a man, are very weak, and very foolish, and wicked, and that Manito is very good and patient to let you live ? " " Good," said the Indian, calmly ; " that is what I mean." " Come, Iledfeather," said Charley, laying his hand on the Indian's arm, " sit down beside us, and tell us some of your adventures. I know that you must have had plenty, and it's quite clear that we're not to get away from this place all day, so you've nothing better to do." The Indian readily assented, and began his story in English. Iledfeather was one of the very few Indians who had acquired the power of speaking the English language. Having been, while a youth, brought much into contact with the fur-traders ; and, having been induced by them to enter their service for a time, he had picked up enough of English to make himself easily underetood. Being engaged at a later j)eriod of life as guide to one of the exploring parties sent out by the British Government to discover the famous North-west Passage, he had learned to read and write, and had become so much accuatomed * God. i . i ! I J'; i > I 1 lii II* r:i 142 8NOWFLAKi:S AND SUNHKAMS to the habits and occupations of tlie " pale-faces," that he spent more of liis time, in one way or another, witli tliem than in the society of his trihe, wliich dwelt in the tliick woods bordering on one of tlie gi'eiit prairies of tlie interior. He was about thirty years of age ; had a tall, tliin, but wiry and powerful frame, and w^as of a mild, retiring disposition. His face wore a habitually grave expression, verging towards melancholy ; induced, pro- bably, by the vicissitudes of a wild life (in which he had seen much of the rugged side of nature in men and things), acting upon a sensitive heart and a naturally warm temperament. Redfcather, however, was by no means morose ; and when seated along with his Canadian com- rades round the camp fire, he listened with evidently genuine interest to their stories, and entered into the spirit of their jests. But he was always an auditor, and rarely took part in their conversations. He was fre- quently consulted by the guide in matters of difficulty, and it was obseiwed that the " redskin'^ " opinion always carried nnich weight with it, although it was seldom given unless asked for. The men respected him much because he was a hard worker, obliging, and modest, — three qualities that insure respect, whether found under a red skin or a white one. " I shall tell you," he began, in a soft musing tone, as if he were wandering in memories of the past ; " I shall tell you how it was that I came by the name of Kedfeather." " Ah ! " interrupted Charley, " I intended to ask you about that ; you don't wear one." " I did once. My father was a great warrior in his tribe," continued the Indian ; " «.nd T wns but a youth when I £iX)t the nam«." 'ii!i FUOM TllK FAU NOUTll. 143 if A\ '(111 "My tribe was at war at the time with the Chipewyauh, And one of uur scouts having come in with the intelligence that a l)ai'ty of our enemies was in the neighbourhood, our warriors armed themselves to go in pursuit of them. I had been out once before with a war-party, but liad not been successful, as the enemy's scouts gave notice of our ai)i)roach in time to enable them to esca})e. Ac the time the information was brought to us, the young men of our village were amusing themselves with athletic games, and loud challenges were being given and accepted to wrestle, or race, or swim in the deep water of the river, which flowed calmly pjist the gi*een bank on which our wigwams stood. On a bank near to us sat about a dozen of our women, — some employed in ornamenting nujccasina with coloured porcupine-quills ; others making rogans of bark for maple sugar, or nursing their young infants ; while a few, chiefly the old women, grouped themselves together ami kept up an incessant chattering, chiefly with refer- ence to the doings of the young men. " Apart from these stood three or four of the principal men of our tribe, smoking their pipes, and although apparently engrossed in conversation, still evidently inter- ested in what was going forward on the bank of the river. " Among the young men avsseml>led, there was one of about my o\vn age, who had taken a violent dislike to me, because the most beautiful girl in all the village pre- ferred me before him. His name was Misconna. He was a hot-tempered, cruel youth ; and although I endeavoured as much as possible to keep out of his way, he sought eveiy opportunity of picking a quan-el with me. I had just been running a race along with several other youths, and, although not the winner, I had kept ahead o/ ^^i ,1 • ■it i\ i; ^1 !t 144 SNOW FLAKES AND SUNBKAMS I ii . I. ! (M \ , Misconna all tlie distance, lie now stood leaning agaiuMt a tree, burning with rage and disappointment. I wjis sorry tor this, because I bore him no -ill will, and, if it had occuiTed to me at the time, 1 would have allowed him to I)ass me, since I was unable to gain the race at any rate. " ' Dog ! ' he said, at length, stepping forward and con- fronting me, * will you wrestle V " Just as he approached, I had turned round to leave the place. Not wishing to have more to do with him, I pretended not to hear, and made a step or two towards the lodges. * Dog !' he cried again, while his eyes fliished fiercely, and he grasped me by the arm, ' will you wrestle, or are you afraid ? Has the brave boy's heart changed into that of a girl V " ' No, Misconna,' said I. ' You know that I am not afraid ; but I have no desii'e to quarrel with you.' "'You lie!' cried he, with a cold sneer; 'you are afraid — and see,' he added, pointing towards the women with a triumphant smile, * the dai'k-eyed girl sees it and believes it, too !' " I turned to look, and there I saw Wabisca gazing on me with a look of blank amazement. I could see, also, that several of the other women, and some of my companions, shared in her surprise. "With a burst of anger I turned round. 'No, Mis- conna,' said I, ' I am not afraid, as you shall find ; ' and, springing upon him, I grasped him round the body. He was nearly, if not quite, as strong a youth as myself; but I was burning with indignation at the insolence of his conduct before so many of the women, which gave me more than usual energy. For several minutes we swayed to and fro, each endeavouring in vain to bend the other'b m FKOM THK FAK NOKTIl. \A5 Ai) })a<;k ; but we wero too well m.itched for tlii.s, and sough i to aooom})lish our purpose l»y taking advantage of au unguarded movement. At Lust suoli a movement occurred. My adversary made a sudden and violent attempt to throw me to the left, hoping tiiat a-n intMpia- lity in the ground would favour his etlbrt, But he was mistaken. I had seen the danger, and wius prepared for it, so that the instant he attempted it, I threw forward my right leg, and thrust him backwanls with all my might. Misconna was quick in his motions. H«i saw my intention, — too late, indeed, to prevent it altogether, but in time to throw back his left foot and stillen his body till it felt like a block of stone. The effort was now entirely one of endurance. We stood, each with hi^ muscles strained to the utmost, without the slightest motion. At length I felt my adversary give way a little. Slight though the motion was, it instantly removed all doubt as to who should go down. My heart gave a bound of exultation, and, with the energy which such a feeUng always inspires, I put forth all my strength, threw him heavily over on his back, and fell upon him. "A shout of applause from my comrades greeted me as I rose and left the ground ; but at the same moment the at- tention of all was taken from myself and the baftied Mis- conna, by the arrival of the scout, bringing us information that a party of Cliipewyans were in the neighbourhood. In a moment all was bustle and preparation. An Indian war- party is soon got ready. Forty of our braves threw off the principal parts of their clothing ; painted their faces with stripes of vermilion and charcoal; armed themselves with guns, bows, tomahawks, and scalping-knives, and in a fev: ^vlnut«s left the camp in sUence and at a quick paca '*f I* '1 'if' 1 I h i ■! 11 ' ! if i: ' i',: !•• i ■r I itn HNOWKLAKKS AM) SUMlKAMS ••OiH' or two of tlic yuutlics who li:ul hccii j)liiyiiigoii tiio river's bank were j)(u*inittcd to accoinpiiiiy the party, and uiiiong tli(!se were IMisconna and myself. As wt5 pjissed a ^rouj) of women, asscm])led to see us dcipart, I obsrrvctl the gii'l who liad caused kcj mucli jealousy between ua She cast down her eyes as avo came up, and as wo advanced close to the grouj* she droj)t a white feathej", us if by accident. Sto()j)ing hiustily down, I pickinl it up in passing, and stuck it in an ornamented band that bound my hair. As we hurried on, I heard two or three old hags laugh, and say, with a sneer, 'His hand is as white as the feather : it haa never seen blood.' The next moment we were hid in the forest, and pursued our rapid course in dead silenc(i. "Tlie country through which we passed was varied, — extending in broken bits of open prairie, and partly covered Avith thick wood; yet not so thick as to offer any hindrance to our march. We walked in single file, each treading in his conirade's footsteps, while the band was headed by the scout who had brought the information. The principal chief of our tribe came next, and he was followed by the braves according to their age or influence. ]Misconna and I brought up the rear. The sun w{is just sinking as we left the belt of woodland in which our village stood, crossed over a short plain, descended a dark hollow, at the bottom of which the river flowed, and, following its coui'se for a considerable distance, turned oflf to the right and emerged upon a sweep of prairie land. Here the scout halted, and taking the chief and two or three braves aside, entered into earnest consultation with them. "What they said we could not hear ; but as we .=»tood KHUM IIIF. FAK NOIlTtl u; l^ij leaning on our guns in the tleop shade of the fnnst, wt could observe by tlieir animated gestures that they dit- fered in oj)iuion. We saw tliat the seout |)()inted several times to the moon, whieh wjus just rising above the tree-tops, and theu to the distant hori/ou, but the cliief shook liis head, jx tinted to the woods, and seemed to ])e mucli in doubt, while the whole band watched his mo- tions in deep silence, but evident interest. At length they appeared to agree. The scout took his place at the head of the line, and we resumed our march, keeping close to the margin of the woo.l. It wiiH per' aps three houra after tliis ere we again hal ed to hold another con- sultation. This time their deliberat'ons .vere shorter. Tn a few seconds, our chief him.«(!lf toc^' the h'ld ai d turned into the woods, through wliich he guided s to a small fountain, which bubbhxl up at the root c:' a bird - tree, where there was a smooth green spo;. (.i level grounU. Here we halted, and prepared to rest for an hour, at the end of which time, the moon, which now shone bright and full in the clear sky, w^ould be nearly down, and we could j'esume our march. We now sat down 'i a circle, and, taking a hasty mouthful of dried meat, stretched our- selves on the ground with our arms beside us, while our chief kept watch, leaning against the birch-tree. It seemed as if I had scarcely been asleep five minutes when I felt a light touch on i.'^. iioulder. Springing up, I found the whole party already astir, and, in a few minutes more, we were ag lin hurrying onwards. " We travelled thu ..ntil a faint light in the east told us that the day was at hand, when the scout's steps became more cautious, and he paused to examine the gi'ound frequently. At last we came to a place where \iX :i ' I ! U« SNuWl'LAKES AND SUNBEAMS tho ground satik slightly, and, at the distance of a hun- dred yards, rose again, forming a low ridge whicli wjia crowned with small bushes. Here M'e came to a halt, and were told that our enemies were on the other side of that ridge, that they were about twenty in number, all Chipewyan warriors, with the exception of one pale-face, — a trapper, and his Indian wife. The scout had learned, while lying like a snake in the grass around their camp, that this man was merely travelling with them on his way to the Ilocky Mountains, and that, as they were a war-party, he intended to leave them soon. On hearing this the warriors gave a grim smile, and our chief, directing the scout to fall behind, cautiously led the way to the top of the ridge. On reaching it we saw a valley of great extent, dotted with trees and shrubs, and watered by one of the many rivers that flow into the great Saskatchewan. It was nearly dark, however, and we could only get an indistinct view of the land. Far ahead of us, on the right bank of the stream, and close to its margin, we saw the faint red light of watch-fires, which caused us some surprise, for watch-fires are nevei- lighted by a war-party so near to an enemy's country. So we could oniy conjecture that they were quite ignor- ant of our being in that part of the country — which was. indeed, not unlikely, seeing that we had shifted our cam] during the summer. " Our chief now made arrangements for the attack. Wt? were directed to separate and approach individually as near to the camp as was possible without risk of dis- covery, and then, taking up an advantageous position, to await our chief's signal — which was to be the hooting of ^ui owl. We immediately separated. I\Iy coui'se lay w KROAI THE FAK NOUTH. I4!i along the banks of the stream, and, a.s I strode rapidly along, listening to its low solemn nmnniir, which sounded clear and distinct in the stillness of a calm summer niirht, I could not help feeling as if it were reproaching me fur the bloody work I waa hastening to perform. Then the recollection of what the old women said of me, raised a desperate spirit in my heart. Hemembering the white feather in my head, I grasped my gun and quickened my pace. As I neared the camp, I went into the woods and climbed a low hillock to look out, I found that it still lay about five hundred yards distant, and that tlie greater part of the ground between it and the place where I stood, was quite flat, and without cover of any kind. I therefore prepared to creep towards it, although the attempt was likely to be attended with great danger, for Chipeu^yans have quick eai*s and sharp eyes. Observing, however, that the river ran close i)ast the canij), I deter- mined to follow its course as before. In a few seconds more, I came to a dark narrow gap where the river flowed between broken rocks, overhung by branches, and from which I could obtain a clear Wew of the camp within fifty yards of me. Examining the priming of my gun, I sat down on a rock to await the chief's signal. "It was evident, from the careless manner in which the fires were placed, that no enemy was supposed to be neai-. From my concealment I could plainly distinguish ten or fifteen of the sleeping forms of our enemies, among which the trapper was consi)icuous, from his superior bulk, and fche reckless way in wliich his brawny arms were flung on the turf, while his right hand clutched his rifle. I could not but smile as I thought of the proud boldness of tlie pale-face— lying all exposed to view in the gray light of > a 1 1 1 r){) 8 N O \\ F L A K I :.S A N D SIM'. I'. A M S (lawu, wliile ;m Indians rillc w;us su clc^sc at hand. On^ Indian kept watch, hut he Kiscnujd niur<' than lialf a.sloep. 1 had not sat niori; than a minute, when my ohservation.s were interruj)te(l l»y lhv3 cracking of a hraneli in tlie Ituslies near me. Starting up, I \va.s about to hound into th(! umhrwood, when a figure si)rang down the hank and raj)idly approached me. jNIy first im[)ulse was to throw forward my gun, hut a ghmce suillced t(j sin w me tliat it was a woman. '"Wall !' 1 exeh'iimed, in sui'[)rise, as she hurrird (or- ward and laid her hand on my shoulder. She was dre.ssed partly in tin; costume of the Indians, hut wore a slia^l o!i lier shouldei's, and a liandkercliief on her head, that shewed she had l)een in the settlements ; and, from the liglitness of her skin and liair, I judged at once tliat she was tlie trap])er's wile (tf wliom J had heartl the scout speak. " ' lias the light-liair got a medicine bag, or does she speak witli s[)irits, that she lias found me so ea.sily ?' "The "irl looked anxiously up in mv f;ie(> as if to read my thoughts, and then said, in a low voice — " ' No, I neitlier cari-y the medicine bag nor hohl palaviT with sjiirits ; but I do think the good Manito nmst have led me liere. I wandered into the wf»ods because I could not sleep, and L .saw you pass. Jjiit tell me,' she added with still deeper anxiety, ' dots the white feather come di friends during the dark hours w ith a so ft *ep lik ippr e a fox? "Feeling the necessity (»f detaining her until my com- rades should have time to surround the camp, I said — ■' The white feather hunts far from his lands. He see> A,' . . i i I; \ ¥'^ %i H kii r:EDFEATHER SDRVEYiNO THE TAMP l''u-.- 14(1 ' I 1 i \ I 1 ,: 1 : m In m 1 « r '*liiU_ n FUOM THE FAK NORTH. 151 Indians whom he does not know, and must ap})roach with a light step. Perhaps they are enemies.' ** ' Do Knistcneux hunt at night, prowling in the bed of a stream ? ' said the girl, still regarding mc with a keen glance. * Speak tiiith, stranger ' (and she started sud- denly back) ; * in a moment I can alarm the camp with a cry, and if your tongue is forked ! — but I do not wish to bring enemies upon you, if they are indeed such. T am not one of them. IVIy husband and I travel with them for a time. We do not desire to see blood. God knows,' she added, in French, which seemed her native tongue, * I have seen enough of that already.' "As her earnest eyes looked into my face, a sudden thought occurred to me. ' Go,' said I, hastily, * tell your husband to leave the camp instantly, and meet me here; and see that the Chipewyans do not observe your departure. Quick ! his life and yours may depend on your speed.' " The girl instantly comprehended my meaning. In a moment she sprang up the bank ; but as she did so, the loud repoiii of a gun was heard, followed by a yell, and the war-whoop of the Knisteneux rent the air as they rushed upon the devoted camp, sending arrows and bullets "On 'h'! instant, I sprang after the girl and grasped lier by the arm. ' Stay, wliite-cheek, it is too late now. You cannot save your husband, but I think he'll save himself. I sa%v him dive into the bushes like a carriboo. Hide yourself here, perhaps you may escape.' '* The half-breed girl sank on a fallen tree with a deep groan, and clasped her hands convulsively before her eyes, ■'f ;i I I . 5 I I ^ ^ .1 I f u f 1 1 ■ J, I i i " :S! . ")2 JNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMh while I bounded over the tree, intending to join my com rades in pursuing the enemy. "As I did so a shrill cry arose behind me, and, looking back, I beheld the trapper's wife prostrate on the ground, and Miscoiina standing over her, his spear uplifted, and a fierce fro^vn on his dark face. " ' Hold,' I cried, rushing back and seizing his arm. ' Misconna did not come to kill women. She is not oui- enemy.' " ' Does the young %vi*estler want (mother wifo V he ^aid with a wild laugh, at the same time ^VTenching his arm from my gripe, and driving his spear through the fleshy [)art of the woman's breast and deep into the ground A shriek rent the air as he drew it out again to repeat the thrust ; but, before he could do so, I struck him with the butt of my gun on the head. Staggering backwards, he fell heavily among the bushes. At this moment a second whoop rang out, and another of our band sprang from the thicket that surrounded us. Seeing no one but myself and the bleeding girl, he gave me a short glance of sur- ])rise, as if he wondered why I did not finish the work which he evidently supposed I had begun. "'Wah!' he exclaimed; and uttering another yell plunged his spear into the woman's breast, despite my efforts to prevent him — tliis time with more deadly effect, as the blood spouted from the wound, while she uttered a piercing scream, and t^vined her arms round my legs as I stood beside her, as if imploring for mercy. Poor girl ! T saw that she was past my help. The wound was evidently mortal. Already the signs of death overspread her fea- tures, and I felt that a second blow would be one of mercy j 80 that when the Indian stooped and pa,ssod his long knifo KHd.M THE FAJ{ NORTH. 153 through her heart, I made but a feeble effort to jn-evcnt it. Just as ihe man rose, with the warm blood dripping from hif ke'iu blade, the sharp crack of a rifle waa heard, and the Tn ijan fell dead at my feet, shot through the forehead, while the trajiper bounded into the open space, his massive frame quivering, and his sunburnt face dis- torted ^vith rage and horror. From tlie other side of the brake, six of our band rushed forward and levelled their guns at him. For one moment the trap])er paused to cast a glance at the mangled corpse of his wife, as if to make quite sure that she was dead ; and then uttering a howl of despair, he hurled his axe with a giant's force at the Knisteneux, and disappeared over the precipitous bank of the stream. " So rapid was the action, that the volley which imme- ately succeeded passed harmlessly over his head, while iilie Indians dashed forward in pursuit. At the same instant I myself was felled to the earth. The axe which the trapper had flung struck a tree in its flight, and, as it glanced off, the handle gave me a violent blow in passing. I fell stunned. As I did so, my head alighted on the shoulder of the woman, and the last thing I felt, as my wandering senses forsook me, was her still warm blood flowing over my face and neck. " While this scene was going on, the yells and screams of the warriors in the camp became fainter and fainter as tlicy pursued and fled through the woods. The whole band of Chipewyans was entirely routed, with the excep- tion of four who escaped, and the trapper whose flight I have described ; all the rest were slain, and their scalps hung at the belts of the victorious Knisteneux warriors, while only one of our party was killed. rl ' I ■t !' ' 1 : I' ' I I I /; it i'N 11 4'; 'i ! 1 n I,' ^W \54 SNOWFIAKES AND SUNBEAMS " Not more than a few minutes after recei\'ing the blow that stunned me, I recovered, and rising as iiastily as my scattered faculties woidd permit me, I staggered towards the camp, where I heard the shouts of our men as they collected the arms of their enemies. As I rose, the feather which Wal)isca had dropped fell from my brow, and, as I picked it up to replace it, I perceived that it was red; being entirely covered with the blood of the half- breed girl. '* The place where Misconna had fallen was vacant as 1 passed, and I found him standing among his comrades round the camp fires, examining the guns and other articles which they had collected. He gave me a short gUince of deep hatred as I passed, and turned his head Iiastily away. A few minutes sufficed to collect tlie spoils, and so rapidly had everything been done, that tlie light of day was still faint as we silently returned on our track. We marched in the same order as before, Misconna and I bringing up the rear. As we passed near the place where the poor woman had been mur- dered, I felt a strong desire to return to the spot. I could not very well understand the feeling, but it lay so strong upon me, that when we reached the ridge wliere we firet came in sight of the ChipcAvyan camp, I fell behind until my companions disappeared in the woods, and then ran swiftly back. Just as I was about to step beyond the circle of bushes that surrounded the spot, I saw that some one was there before me. It was a man, and, as he advanced into the open space and tl\e light fell on his face, I saw that it was the trapper. No doubt, he had watched us off the ground, and then, when all was safe, returned to bury his wife. T crouched to watcb him. SI si FitUM THE FAU NORTFl. 165 Stepping slowly up to the body of his murdered wife, he stood beside it with his arms folded on liis breast and quite motionless. lEis head hung down, for the heart of the white man was heavy, and I could see, as the light increased, that his brows were dark as the thunder ch)ud, and the corners of his mouth twitched from a feeling that the Indian scorns to shew. My heart is full ( f sorrow for him now ; " (Rcdfeather's voice sank as he spoh/j), " it was full of son'ow for him even then, when T was tanght to think that pity for an enemy was unworthy of u brave. The trapper stood gazing very long. His wife waa young ; he could not leave her yet. At length a deep groan buret from liis heart, as the waters of a gi'eat river, long held down, swell up in sjn-ing, and burst the ice at last. Groan followed groan as tho trapper still stood and pressed his arms on his broad breast, as if to crush the heai*t within. At last he slowly knelt beside her, bending more and more over the lifeless form, until he lay extended on the ground beside it, and, twining his arms round the neck, he drew the cold cheek close to his and pressed the blood-covered bosom tighter and tighter, while his form quivered with agony as he gave her a last, long embrace. Oh ! " continued Redfeather, while his brow darkened, and his black eye flashed with an expression of fierceness that his young listenera had never seen before, " may the curse " (he paused), " God forgive them ! how could they know better ? " At length the trapper rose hastily. The expression of his brow was still the same, but his month v'as altered. The lips were pressed tiglitly like those of a brave when led to torture, and there was a fierce activity in his motions as he sprang dl(3 in the Rr)ft oartli. For half an horn* lie laboiir(Ml, shovelling' away the earth with a largo flat stone, and carrying down the body, he buried it there, under the kIuuIow of a willow. The tra]iper then shouldered his rille and hurried away. On reaching the turn of the stream which shuts the little hollow out from view, he halted suddenly, gave one look into the prairie he was henceforth to tiead alone, one short glance back, and then, raising both arms in the air, looked up into the sky, while he stretched himself to his full height. Even at that distance, I could see the wild glare of his eye and the heaving of his l>rca.st. A moment after, and he was gone." " And did you never see liim again ?" inquired Harry Somervi^e, eagerly. " No, I never saw him more. Immediately afterwards I turned to rejoin my companions, whom I soon over- took, and entered our village along with them. I was regarded as a poor warrior, because I brought home no scalps, and ever afterwards I went by the name of Jied- fcather in our tribe." " But are you still thought a poor waiTior 1 " asked Charley, in some concern, as if he were jealous of the reputation of his new friend. The Indian smiled. " No," he said ; " our village was twice attacked aftervwards, and, in defending it. Red- feather took many scalps. He was made a chief ! " " Ah ! " cried Charley, " I'm glad of that. And Wabisca, what came of her ? Did Misconna get her 1 " " She is my wife," rej)lied Redfeather. '* Your wife ! Why, I thought I heard the iJoynrfenn oftU your wife the white swan." rnOM TTTK FAR NORTH. 157 " \Vnhm:a is white in tlie language of the Kniflteneiij:. She is beautiful in form, and my comrades call her the white swan." Redfoatlur said this with an air of gratified pride. fTe did not, perhaps, love his wife with more fervour than he would have done, had he remained with his tribe ; but Redfeather had associated a great deal with the tradera, and he hrul imbibed much of that sjiirit which prompts " icfiite vmi" to treat their fenuiles with deference and respect, a fci^ling which is very foreign to an Indian's bosom. To do so was, besides, more congenial to his naturally unselfish and alfectionate dis[)osition, so that any flattering allusion to his partner was always received by him with immense gratification. ** I'll pay you a visit some day, Ivcdfeather, if I'm sent to any place within fifty miles of your tribe," said Charley, with the air of one wdio had fully made up his mind. " And IMisconna ? " asked Harry. " Misconna is with his tribe," replied the Indian, and a frown overspread his features as he spoke ; " but Red- feather has been following in the track of his white friendfi • he has not seen liis nation for manv moonB." 11 i i'i !l - y \ r '•J r 3 M;r 158 SNOWKLAKES AND 8UNHKA1CS CHAPTER Xni. The Caiioe. Ascending the Haplds. The Portage. Deer Shooting and Life m the Woods. Wk must now bog the patient reader to take a leap witli us, not only through space, but also through time. We must pass over the events of the remainder of the journey along the shore of Lake Winipeg. Unwilling though we are to omit anything in the history of our friends that would be likely to prove interesting, we think it wise not to run the risk of being tedious, or of dwelling too minutely on the details of scenes which recall powerfu)^y the feelings and memories of byg«Jne days to the writer, but may, nevertheless, appear somewhat flat to the reader. We shall not, therefore, enlarge at present on the ar- rival of the boats at Norway House, which lies at the north end of the lake, nor of what was said and done by our friends and by several other young comrades whom they found there. We shall not speak of the horror of Hany Somerville, and the extreme disappointment of his friend Charley Kennedy, when the former was t<3ld that instead of hunting grizzly bears up the Saskatchewan, he was condemned to the desk again, at York Fort, the de- pot on Hudson's Bay, a low swampy place near the sea- shore, where the goods for the interior are annually landed and the furs shipped for England, wlun'e the greater j)art of the summer nnd much of the winter is occupied by the ri(OM TIIR FAK NOIITII. I5y clerks, who may be doomed to vcgetatr tla lo, in inukiiig up the accounts of what is termed the Northern Do- [tartment, and where the brigades converge from all the wide-scattered and far distant outposts, and tlu; ship fr in one of the Yankee settlements on the JNlissouri, and had, from a mere youth, spent his life as a hunter in the wib derness. He could speak English, French, oi- Indian with eipial ease and fluency, but it woultl have l)een hard for any one to Kay which of th(! tline was his native tongue. Tlie younger man, whooccupit'd tlu; stern of the canoe, acting the part of steersman, was quite a youth, a]»j)arently about seventeen, biit tall and stout beyontl his year's, and deeply sunburnt. Indeed, were it not I'or this fact, the unusual quantity of liair that hung in massive curls down his neck, and the vo//(i(/('iir costume, we should have recognised our young friend (Jharley Kennedy again more easily. Had any doubts remained in our mind, the shout of his merry voice woulJ have scattered them at once. '•' Hold hard, Jac(pies," he cried, as the canoe trem- bled in the current, '* one moment, till 1 g('t my pole fixed behind this rock. Now, then, shove ahead. Ah ! " he exclaimed, with chagrin, as the {)ole sli|)t on the treach- erous bottom, and the cano(! whirled round. " Mind the rock," ciied the bowsman, giving an ener- getic thrust with his pole, that sent tlie light bark into an eddy formed by a lai'ge rock, which rose above tlie turbu- lent waters. Here it rested while Jacfjues and Charley raised themselves on theii' knees (travellers iu small i • i ' !' i ! i«H i> ( A iG2 8NOWFLAKES AND SUNHKAMS cauoes always sit in a kneeling position) to survey the rapid. " It'3 too much for us, 1 fear, Mr Charles," said Jacques, shading his brow with liis horny hand. " IVe paddled up it many a time alone, but never saw the water so big as now." " Humph ! we shall have to make a portage, then, 1 presume. Could we not give it one trial more 1 I think we might make a dash for the tail of that eddy, and theu the stream above seems not quite so strong. Do you think so, Jacques ? " Jacques was not the man to check a daring young spirit. His motto through life had ever been " Never venture, never win," — a sentiment which his intercourse among fur-traders had taught him to embody in the pithy expression, " Never say die j" so th;it, although quite sa- tisfied that the thing was impossible, he merely replied to his companion's sj)eech by an assjuting " Ho," and pushed out again into the stream. An energetic effort enabled them to gain the tail of the eddy spoken of, when Charley's pole snapt across, and, falling heavily on the gunwale, he would have upset tiie little craft, had not Jac(pies, whose wits were habitually on the qui licc, thrown his own weight at the same moment on the op- posite side, and counterbalanced Charley's slip. The action saved them a ducking ; but the canoe, being left to its own devices for an instant, whirled oil' again into the stream, and before Charley could seize a paddle to pievent it, they were floating in the stiil water at the foot of the rai)id8. '• Now, isn't that a bore?'' said Charley, with a comical look of disai>j)ointment at his com])anion. FROM THE FAli NOUTU. 163 i Jacques langliecL " It was well to try, maater. I inind a young clfrk who came iiito these parts tlie same year as I did, and he .seldom ti-ied anything. He couldn't abide canoes. ITe didn't want for courage neither ; but he had a nat'ral di.slike to them, I suppose, that he couldn't helj>, and never entered one except when he was obliged to do so. Well, one day he wounded a gi'izzly bear on the banks o' the Saskatchewan (mind the tail o' that rapid, Mr Charles ; we'll land 'tother side o' you rock.) Well, the bear made after him, and he cut stick right away for the river, where there was a canoe hauled up on the bank. He didn't take rime to put his rifle aboard, but dropt it on the gravel, crammed the canoe into the water and jumped in, almost driving his feet through its bottom as he did so, and then plumped down so suddenly to prevent its capsizing, that he split it right across. By this time the bear was at his heels, and took the water like a duck. The poor clerk, in his hurry, swayed from side to side tryiu' to prevent the canoe goin' over. But when he went to one side, he was so unused to it that he went too far, and had to jerk over to the other pretty sharp ; and so he got worse and worse, until he hearlaced on the grassy bank. Th.e hunter stooped, and, seizing the canoe by its centre bar, lifted it out of the ■•^ater, })laced it on his shoulders, and walked olf with it into the woods. This w;is ncjt acconq)lished by the man's superior sti'ength. Charley could have done it quite ius well ; and, indeed, the strong hunter coidd have carried a canoe of t^wice the size with perfect ease. Immediately afterwanls Charh^y followed with as much of the lading a.s he could carry, leuvinu enough on the bank to form anothtir loatl. Ul CM ca liu th (hi CO Ot kiUn FUOM TlIK FAR NOUTM, It)5 Hill The hanks of tlio river woi'e .sitn'|> ; in sonic places so uiucli so tliat Jacques found it a matter of no small dilli- c\ilty to climb over the broken rocks wiih the unwieldy canoe on his back : the more so that the branches inter- laced overhead so thickly as to present a strong barrier, through which tlu; canoe had to be forced, at the risk of damaging its delicate bark covering. On reaching the com])aratively level land above, however, there was more open space, and the hunter threaded his way among the tree stems more rajjidly, making a detour occasionally to avoid a swamj) or piece of bnjken ground ; sometimes descending a deep gorge formed by a small tributary of the stream they were ascending, and which, to an unpractised eye, would have appeared almost impassable, even without the incumbrance of a canoe. But the said canoe never bore Jac([ucs more gallantly or safely over the surges of lake or stream than did he bear it throvi^ a the intricate mazes of the forest ; now diving down and disa])pearing altogether in the uuibrageous foliage of a dcdl ; anon re- appearing on the other sitle and scriinibling up the biiidc on all-fours, he and the canoe togetlu'r looking like some frightful yellow re})tile of antediluvian proj)ortions ; and then sjieeding rajiidly forwr.rd over a levcsl [)lain until he reaclu;d a sheet of still wat-.'r above the rapids. Here he deposited his burden on the grass ; and halting only for a few seccnds to carry a few dro[)s of the clear water to his lips, retraced his steps to br, . g over the remaind(!r of the I'aggage. Soon afterwards Charley made his appearance on the .s})ot where the canoe was left, and, throwing down his load, seated himself on it and surv(!yed the prospect. Before him Iny u reach of the stream, which s[)read out so widely as to resemble a small lake, in whose clear, still ;t « ■* 10», rfMOWFLAKKS AND SUNBKAMS (i bo.soiu wor reflected tlie overliiui^'iiig loliuge of graceful willuvv'H, and lioro and tlioro the i^i'iglit 8t(!ni of a silvei l)ircii, wlioso liirlit ttroen leaves contrasted well with scai<- 7 DO lercd grouj)s and solitary specinip. Ihit you spoke of eating yctur shoes, Jncques; when were you reduced to that direful extremity ?" Jacques finished reloading tlu^ cano(; while they conver- sed, and the tw) were seated in their places, and quietly but swiftly asc(!nding the stream again, ere the hunter re]>lied. ** You've heerd of Sir John Franklin, I s'pose?" he iiiquinid, after a minute's consideration. " Yes, often." " An' p'raps you've heerd tell of his fu-st trip of dis- covery along the shores of the Polar Sea?" " Do you refer to the time when he was nearly starved to death, and when poor Hood was shot by tlie Indian 1" " The same," said Jacques. " C»h, yes — I know all about that. Were you with them f inquired Charley, in great surprise. " Why, no — not exactly on the trip ; but 1 was sent in winter with provisions to them, — and much need they had of them, poor fellows ! I found them tearing away at some old parchment skins that had lain under the snow all winter, and that an Injin's dog would ha' turned up his nose at, — and they don't turn up theii snouts at many tilings, I can tell ye. Well, alter we had left all our provisions v\dth them, we started for the fort again, just keejiin' as much as would drive oil' starva- tion ; for, you see, we thought that snrcly we would git something on the road. But neither hoof nor feather did we see all the way (I was travellin' with an fnjin), and our grub was soon done, th.ongh we saved it up, and the iP't' FROM THK KAR NORTH 169 onlv took a moutlifiil or Iwo t]»o la.st tlin^e d.ivs. At. limt it was (lono, ami wo was pretty woU used r^p, and tlio fort two (lays alioad of tis. So says I to my coinrado — who had been lookiiif^ at me for some time as if he thought tliat a cut olf my shoulder wouldn't l)e a bad thing — says I, * Nipitabo, I'm afeer'd the shoes must go for it now ; ' so with that I })ulls out a pair o' deerskin moccasins. ' They looks tender,' said I, trying to be cheerful. * Wah,' said the Injin ; and tlum T held them over the fire till they was done black, and Nipitabo ate one, and I ate the 'tother, with a lump o' snow to w^ush it down !" " It must have been rather dry eating," said Cliarley, laughing. " Ilayther ; but it was better than the Injin's leather breeclies which we took in hand next day. They was uncommon tough, and very dirty, havin' been worn about a year and a half Hows'ever, they kept us up ; an', as we only ate the legs, he had the benefit o' the stump to arrive with at the fort next day. " "What's yon ahead?" exclaimed Charley, pausing as he spoke, and shading his eyes with his hand. " It's uncommon like trees," said Jacques. " It's like.ly a tree that's been tumbled across the river ; and, from its appearance, I think we'll have to cut through it." " Cut tlirough it !" exclaimed Charley ; " if my sight is worth a ffuntlint, we'll have to cut throuGrh a dozen trees." Cliarley was right. The river ahead of them became rapidly nan*ower ; and, either from the looseness of the surrounding soil, or the passing of a whirlwind, dozens of trees had been u])set, and lay right across the narrow stream IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1.25 Ia5 ■■ • 50 Mum IS. m m 1.4 IliM III 2.2 1.6 'c>l Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN SVREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 I iM i ij !|| I ' li 1 \ I .1 i' ' 170 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMa in ten-ible confusion. What made the thing worse wai>, that the banks on either side, which were low and flat, were covered with such a dense thicket down to the water's edge, that the idea of making a portage to over- come tlie barrier seemed altogether hopeless. " Here's a pretty business, to be sure !" cried Cliarley, in great disgust. "Never say die, Mister Charles," replied Jacques, taking up the axe .'rom the bottom of the canoe ; " it's quite clear that cuttm' through the trees is easier than cuttin' througli the bushes, so here goes." For fully three hours tlie travellers were engaged in cutting their way up the encumbered stream, during vvhicli time they did not advance three miles ; and it was evening ere they broke down the last barrier, and paddled out into a sheet of clear water again. "That'll i)ropare us for the geese, Jacques," .said Charley, as he wiped the perspiration from his brow ; " there's nothing like wann work for whetting the appetite, and making one sleep soundly." " That's true," replied the hunter, resuming his paddle. " I often wonder how them white-faced fellows in the settlements manage to keep body and soul together — a' sittin', as they do, all day in the house, and a' lyin' all night in a feather bod. For my part, rather than live as they do, I would cut my way up streams like them we've just passed eveiy day and all day, and sleep on top of a flat rock o' nights, under the blue sky, all my life through." "With this decided expression of his sentiments, the stout liunter steered the canoe up alongside of a huge flat rock, as if he were bent on giving a practical illustration of the latter part of his speech then and there. PROM THE FAR NORTH 171 -a " We'd better oamp now, Mister Charles, there's a portage o' two miles here, and it'll take us till sun-down to get the canoe and things over." " Be it so," said Charley, landing ; " is there a good place at the other end to camp on ? " " First-rate. It's smooth as a blanket on the turf, and a clear spring bubbling at the root of a wide tree that would keep off the rain if it was to come down like water-spouts." The spot on which the travellers encaniped that evening overlooked one of those scenes in wlrch vast extent, and rich, soft variety of natural objects, were united with mucli that was grand and savage. It filled the mind with the ca^ m satisfaction that is experienced when one gazes on the wide lawns, studded with noble trees ; the spreading fields of waving grain that mingle with stream and copse, rock and dell, vineyard and garden, of the cultivated lands of civilised men ; while it produced that exulting throb of freedom which stirs man's heart to its centre, when he casts a first glance over miles and miles of broad lands that are yet unowned, unclaimed ; that yet lie in the unmutilated beauty with which the l)eneficent Creator .jrigiixally clothed tliem — far away from the well-known scenes of man's chequered liistory ; entirely devoid of those ancient monu- ments of man's power and skill, that carry the mind back with feelings of awe to bygone ages ; yet stamped with evidences of an antiquity more ancient still, in the wild primeval forests, and the noble trees that have sprouted and spread and towered in their strength for centuries — trees that have fallen at their posts, while others took their place, and rose and fell as they did, like long-lived sentinels, whose duty it was to keep perpetual guard ovf^r the vasi solitudes of the gi'cat American WilderneB- 12 !l i I". ! I i .i !i i " ii! I'- i .■ \ :l I -^ it I I \ 17-2 SVOWFF-AKi:S AM) SUNBKAMS The tire was lighted and the canoe turned bottom up ir> front of it, under the branches of a spreading tree which stood on an eminence, whence was obtained a ))ird's-eyc view of the noble scene. It was a flat valley, on either side of which rose two ranges of hills, which were clothed to the top witli trees of various kinds, the plain of the valley itsiilf b(iing dotted with clumps of wood, among which the fresh green foliage of the plane-tree and the silver-stemmed birch were conspicuous, giving an airy lightness to the scene and enhancing the }>icturesque eflect of the dark pines. A small stream could be traced wind- ing out and in among clumps of willows, reflecting their drooping boughs and the more sombre branches of the spruce-tir and the straight larch with which, in many places, its banks were shaded. Here and there were stretches of clearer ground, where the green herbage of spi'ing gave to it a lawn-like api)oarance, and the whole magnificent scene was bounded by blue liills that became fainter as they receded from the eye and mingled at last with the horizon. The sun had just set, and a rich glow of red bathed the whole scene, which was further enlivened by flocks of wild- fowls and herds of reindeer. These last soon drew Charley's attention from the con- templation of the scenery, and, observing a deer feeding in an open space, towards which he could approach with- out coming between it and the wind, he ran for his gun and hurried into the woods, while Jacques busied himself in arranging their blankets under the upturned canoe, and in preparing supper. Charley discovered, soon after starting, what all hunters discover sooner or later, namely, that appearances are de- ceitful, fur he no sachcd the foot of the hill thau i 1 '■^I'ij^i ^11 t T ] FROM THE FAR NORTH. 173 he found, between him and the lawn-like country, an almost impenetrable thicket of urdenvood. Our young hero, however, was of that disposition which sticks at nothing, and instead of taking time to search for an open- ing, he took a race and sprang into the middle of it, in hopes of forcing his way through. His hopes were not disappointed. He got through — quite through — and alighted up to the armpits in a swamp, to the infinite con- sternation of a flock of teal-ducks that were slumbering peacefully there with their heads UTidor their wings, and had evidently gone to bed for the nigiit. Fortunately he held his gun above the water and kept his balance, so tliat he was able to proceed with a dry charge, though witli an uncommonly wet skin. Half an hour brought Charley within range, and, watching patiently until the animal presented his side towards the place of his con- cealment, he fired and shot it through the heart.. " Well done. Mister Charles," exclaimed Jacques, as the former staggered into camp with the reindeer on his shoulders, — " a fat doe too." " Ay," said Charley, " but she hast cost me a wet skin ; so pray, Jacques, rouse up the fire, and let's have suj)per as soon as you can." Jacques speedily skinned the deer, cut a couple of steaks from its flank, and, placing them on wooden spikes, stuck them up to roast, while his young friend put on a dry shirt, and hung his coat before the blaze. The goose which had been shot earlier in the day was also plucked, split open, impaled in the same manner as the steaks, and set up to roast. By this time the shadows of night had deepened, and ere long all was shrouded in gloom, except the circle of ruddy light around the camp fire, in the I'M I/S ' 'j :|i: u r:t 174 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS centre of which Jacques and Cliarley sat, with the canoe at their backs, knives in their hands, and the two spits, on the top of which smoked their ample supper, planted in the ground before them. One by one the stars went out, until none were visible except the bright, beautiful morning star, as it rose higlier and higher in the eastern sky. One by one the owls and the wolves, ill-omened birds and beasts of night, retired to rest in the dark recesses of the forest. Little by little the gray dawn overspread the sky, and paled the lustre of the morning star, until it faded away altogether, and then Jacques awoke with a start, and throwing out his arm, brought it accidently into violent contact \vith Charley's nose. This caused Charley to awake, not only with a start, but also with a roar, which brought them both suddenly into a sitting posture, in which they continued for some time in a state between sleeping and waking, their ftices meanwhile expressive of mingled imbecility and extreme surprise. Bursting into a simultaneous laugh, which degenerated into a loud yawn, they sprang up, launched ind reloaded their canoe, and resumed their journey. M I II I '■i|llii ' -7 tmOM TTIF VAH NORTH 176 CHAPTER XIV The Indian Camp; the new Outpost; Charley sent on a Miaaion to the Indians. I:t the councils of the fur-traders, on the spring previous to that about which we are now wi'iting, it had been decided to extend their operations a little in the lands that lie in central America, to the north of the Sas- katchewan river; and, in furtherance of that object, it had been intimated to the chief trader in charge of the dis- trict, that an expedition should be set on foot, having for its object the examination of a territory into which they had not yet penetrated, and the establishment of an out- post therein. It was furthermore ordered that operations should be commenced at once, and that the choice of men to carry out the end in view was graciously left to the chief trader's well-known sagacity. Upon receiving this communication, the chief trader selected a gentleman, named Mr Whyte, to lead the party ; gave him a clerk and five men ; provided him with a boat and a large supply of goods necessary for trade, imple- ments requisite for building an establishment, and sent him ofi* with a hearty shake of the hand, and a recommen- dation to " go and prosper." Charles Kennedy spent part of the previous year at Rocky Mountain House, where he had shewn so much energy in conducting the trade — especially what he 1 t 1 ,' ' ^1^ i '9, i r > I- 1 '1 i W- I !':! 1 1 a .: ' I' if ■». 5 :• fS I in \:i^ m 176 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNHF.AMH called the " rough and tumble " pari ul it, that he wns selected as the clerk to accompany J\Ir Whyte to his new ground. After proceeding up many rivers, whose watei"s had seldom borne the craft of white men, and across innu- merable lakes, the })arty reached a spot that presented so inviting an aspect, that it was resolved to ))itch their tent there for a time, and, if things in the way of trade and provision looked favourable, establish themselves alto- gether. The place was situated on the margin of a large lake, whose shores were covered with the most luxuriant verdure, and whose waters teemed with the finest fish, while the air was alive with wildfov/1, and the woods swarming with game. Here Mr Wliyte rested awhile ; and, having found everything to his satisfaction, he took his axe, selected a green lawn that commanded an exten- sive view of the lake, and going up to a tall larch, struck the steel into it, and thus i)ut the firat touch to an estab- lishment which afterwards went by the name of Stoney Creek. A solitary Indian, whom they had met with on the way to their new home, had informed them that a large band of Knisteneux had lately migrated to a river about four days' journey beyond the lake, at wliich they halted; and when the new fort was just beginning to spring up our friend Charley and the interpreter, Jacques Caradoc, were ordered by Mr Whyte to make a canoe, and then, embarking in it, to proceed to the Indian camp, to inform the natives of their rare good luck in having a band of white men come to settle near their lands to trade with them. The interpreter and Charley soon found birch bark, pine roots for sewing it, and gum for plaster- ing the seams, wherewith tluy constructed the light KKOM TlIK FAU Null Til. IT ruiichino who.su j»rogre.ss wu havo pui'tly traced in tlio liun cha|)ter, and wliicli on the following day at sunset, carried them to their journey's end. From some remarks made by tlie Indian who gave them information of the camp, Charley gathered that it waa the tribe to which Redfeather belonged, and furtiiermorc, that Redfeather himself was there at that time ; so that it was with feelings of no little interest that he saw the tops of the yellow tents embedded among the green trees, and soon afterwards beheld them and their picturesque owners reflected in the clear river, on v/hose banks the natives crowded to witness the arrival of the white men. Upon the green sward, and under the umbrageous shade of tlie forest trees, the tents were j)itched to the number of perhaps eighteen or twenty, and the whole population, of whom very few were absent on the present occasion, might number a hundred — men, women, and children. They were dressed in habiliments formed eliiefly of materials procured by themselves in the chaae, but ornamented with cloth, beads, and silk thread, which shewed that they had had intercourse with the fur- tradei*s before now. The men wore leggins of deer- skin, which reached more than half way i : the thigh, and were fastened to a leathern girdle, strap^)ed round the waist. A loose tunic or hunting-shirt, of the same material, covered the figure from the shoulders almost to the knees, and was confined round the middle by a belt — in some cases of worsted, in others, of leather gaily orna- mented with quills. Caps of various indescribable shapes, and made chiefly of skin, with the animal's tail left on by way of ornament, covered their heads, and moccasins for the feet completed their costuma Hiese last may be J H] i M i -8 : :: I I k ;! 4i1' 11' ] ! 't4 .1 178 S.NOWFLAKKS AND SUNDBAMS simply described as leather mitteua lor the feet without fingers, or I'ather toes. They were gaudily ornameuted, as was almost every portion of costume, with porcu- pines' quills dyed with brilliant colours, and worked into fanciful, and in many cases, extremely elegant figures and designs ; for North American Indians oftentimes display an amount of taste in the harmonious arrangement of colour, that would astonish those who fancy that educa- tion is absolutely necessary to the just appreciation of the beautiful. The women attired themselves in leggins and coats differing little from those of the men, except that the latter were longer, the sleeves detached from the body, and fastened on separately — while on their heads they wore ca})S, which hung down and covered their backs to the waist. These caps were of the simplest construc- tion, being pieces of cloth cut into an oblong shape, and sewed together at one end. They were, however, richly ornamented with silk-work and beads. On landing, Charley and Jacques walked up to a tall good-looking Indian, whom they judged from liis demean- our, and the somewhat deferential regard paid to him by the others, to be one of the cliief men of the little com- munity. " Ho ! what cheer 1 " said Jacques, taking him by the hand after the manner of Europeans, and accosting liim with the phrase used by the fur- traders to the natives. The Indian returned the compliment in kind, and led the visitors to his tent, where he spread a buffalo robe for them on the ground, and begged them to be seated. A repast of dried meat and reindeer- tongues was then served, to which our friends did ample justice ; while the FKOM TlIK FAIl NOKTII. 179 women and children satisfied their curiosity by peering ai them through chinks and holes in the tent. When they had finished, several of the principal men assembled, and the chief who had entertained them made a speech, to the effect that he was nuich gratified by the honour done to his people by the visit of liis wliite brothers ; that he hoped they would continue long at the camp to enjoy their hospitality ; and that he would be glad to know what had brought them so far into the country of the red men. During the course of this speech, the chief made eloquent allusion to all the good qualities supposed to belong to white men in general, and (he had no doubt) to the two white men before him in particular. He also boasted considerably of the prowess and bravery of himself and his tribe ; launched a few sarcastic hits at his enemies, and wound up with a poetical hope that his guests might live for ever in these beautiful plains of bUss, where the sun never sets, and nothing goes wrong anywhere, and everything goes right at all times, and where, especially, the deer are outrageously fat, and always come out on pui'pose to be shot ! During the course of these remarks, his comrades signified their hearty concurrence in his sentiments, by giving vent to sundry low -toned "hums!" and " has ! " and " wahs ! " and " hos ! " according to cir- cumstances. After it was over, Jacques rose, and, addressing them in their own language, said — " My Indian brethren are great. They are brave, and their fame has travelled far. Their deeds are known even 80 far as where the Great Salt Lake beats on the shore where the sun rises. They are not women, and when their enemies hear the sound of their name, they grow •i :l rf ' V . i : I. I 'J ;i < ;f 180 SNOWFLAKES AVD SUNBEAMS pale ; their heai't.s become like those of the reindeer My brethren are tiiniou.s, too, in the use of the snow-shoe, the snare, and the gun. The fur-traders know that they must build large stores when they come into their lands. They bring up much goods, because the young men are active, and require much. The silver fox and the marten are no longer safe when their traps and snares are set. Yes, they are good hunters, and we have now come to live among you (Jacques changed his style as he came nearer to the point), to trade with you, and to save you the trouble of making long journeys with your skins. A few days' distance from your wigwams we have pitched our tents. Our young men are even now felling the trees to build a house. Our nets are set, our hunters are prowling in the woods, our goods are ready, and my young master and I have come to smoke the pipe of friendship with you, and to invite you to come to trade with us." Having delivered this oration, Jacques sat down amid deep silence. Other speeches, of a highly satisfactoiy character, were then made, after which "the house adjourned," and the visitors, opening one of their pack- ages, distributed a variety of presents to the delighted natives. Several times during the course of these proceedings, Charley's eyes wandered among the faces of his enter- tainers, in the hope of seeing Redfeather among them, but without success ; and he began to fear that his friend was not with the tribe. "I say, Jacques," he said, as they left the tent, "ask whether a chief called Redfeather is here. I knew him of old, and half-expected to find him at this place." t'KOM TlIK FAU NO HTM. 181 The Iiuliuu to whom Jjic([ia'H put tho question, n^plietl that Ucdfeather wa.s with tliem, but tluit he luid «.;oiie out ou a hunting expedition that morning, and might be aljsent a day or two. " Ah !" exchiimed Cliarhsy, " I'm glad Iio'h liere. Come, now, h't u.s take a walk in the wood ; these good people stare at us as if we were ghosts." And, taking Jacques* arm, he led him beyond the circuit of the camj), turned into a patli, which, winding among the thick underwood, speedily screened them from view, and led them into a sequestered glade, through which a rivulet trickled along its course, almost hid from view by the dense foliage and long grasses that overhung it. " What a delightful })lace to live in ! " said Charley. " Do you ever think of building a hut in such a spot as this, Jacques, and settling down altogether '/" Charley's thoughts reverted to his sister Kate when 1ip said this. " Why, no," replied Jacques, in a pensive tone, as if the question had aroused some son'owful recollections ; " I can't say that I'd like to settle here now. There ivas a time when I thought nothin' could be better than to squat in the woods with one or two jolly comrades, and {Jacques sighed) ; but times is changed now, master, and so is my mind. My chums are most of them dead or gone, one way or other. No ; I shouldn't care to squat alone." Charley thought of the hut without Kate ; and it seemed so desolate and dreaiy a dwelling, notwithstanding its beautiful situation, that he agreed with his companion that to "squat" alone would never do at all. " No, man waa not made to live alone," continue ■ J ./: li:: r. I hi Ik: i 1^ I>^i SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS about tliirty Sieiix (ill-looking, sneaking dogs they arri, too ! ) and before I could whistle, they rushed upon me, took away my rifle and hunting knife, and were dancing round me like so many devils. At last, a big black- lookin' thief stepped forward, and said in the Cree lan- guage — ' White men seldom travel through this country alone ; where are your comrades 1 ' Now, thought I, here's a nice fix ! If I pretend not to understand, they'll send out parties in all directions, and as sure as fate they'll find my companions in half an hour, and butcher them in cold blood ; for, you see, we did not expect to find Sieux, or, indeed, any Injins in them parts ; so I made believe to be very narvous, and tried to tremble all over and look pale. Did you ever try to look pale and fright- ened, Mr Charles?" " I can't say that I ever did," said Charley, laughing. " You can't think how troublesome it is," continued Jacques, with a look of earnest simplicity; " I shook and trembled pretty well, but the more I tried to grow pale, the more I grew red in the face, and when I thought of the six broad-shouldered, raw-boned lads in the camp, and how easy they would have made these jumping villains fly like chaflP, if they only knew the fix I was in, I gave a frown that had well-nigh shewed I was shamming. Hows'ever, what with shakin' a little more, and givin' one or two most awful groans, I managed to deceive them. Then I said I was hunter to a party of white men that were travellin' from Ked River to St Louis, with all their goods, and wives, and children, and that they were away in the plains about a league off. " The big chap looked very hard into my face when ] said this, to see if T was telling the truth ; and I tried to over linued and oale, it of and lains ^ave ing. one nem. that li all were en ] 3(1 to FROM THE FAR NORTH. 18D make my teeth chatter, but it wouldn't do, so I took to gi'oanin' very bad instead. But them Sieux are such awful liars nat'rally, that they couldn't understand the signs of truth, even if they saw them. * Whitefaccd coward,' says he to me, * tell me in what direction your peoj)le are.' At this I made believe not to understand j but the big chap flourished his knife before my lace, called me a dog, and told me to point out the direction. I looked as simple as I could, and said I would rather not. At this they laughed loudly, and then gave a yell, and said if I didn't shew them the direction they would roast me alive. So I pointed towards a part of the plains pretty wide o' the spot where our camp was. ' Now, lead us to them,' said the big chap, givin' me a shove with the butt of his gun ; * an' if you have told lies he gave the handle of his scalpin' knife a slap, as much as to say he'd tickle up my liver with it. Well, away we went in silence, me thinkin' all the time how I was to get out o' the scrape. I led them pretty close past our camp, hopin' that the lads would hear us. I didn't dare to yell out, as that would have shewed them there waa somebody within hearin', and they would have made short work of me. Just as we came near the place where my companions lay, a prairie wolf sprang out from under a bush where it had been sleepin,' so I gave a loud hurrah, and shied my cap at it. Giving a loud growl, the big Injin hit me over the head with his fist, and told me to keep silence. In a few minutes I heard the low distant howl of a wolf. I recognised the voice of one of my com- rades, and knew that tliey had seen us, and would be on our track soon. Watchin' my opportunity, and walkin' *or a good bit as if I was awful tired — all but done uj) — I'f i I , i 1 > :1 I 1 ' ' 1 i 1 :« t\ I: I i I 'i I \f \: ; M . p J '! ! j- i li.^ isr. SNOW I' LAKES AND SUNBEAMS to throw them off their guard, I suddenly tripped up the big chap as he was stepping over a small brook, and dived in among the bushes. In a moment a dozen bullets tore up the bark on the trees about me, and an an*ow passed through my hair. The clump of wood into which I had dived was about half a mile long ; and as I could run well (I've found in my experience that white men are more than a match for redskins at their own work), I was almost out of range by the time I was forced to quit the cover and take to the plain. When the blackguards got out of the cover, too, and saw me cuttin' ahead like a deer, they gave a yell of disappointment, and sent an- other shower of aiTows and bullets after me, some of which came nearer than was pleasant. I then headed for our camp with the whole pack screechin' at my heels. * Yell away, you stupid sinners,' thought I ; ' some of you shall pay for your music' At that moment an arrow grazed my shoulder ; and, looking over it, I saw that the black feUow I had pitched into the water was far ahead of the rest, strainin' after me like mad, and every now and then stopping to try an arrow on me ; so I kept a look out, and when I saw him stop to draw, I stopped too, and dodged, so the arrows passed me, and then we took to our heels again. In this way I ran for dear life, till I came up to the cover. As I came close up I saw our six fellows crouchin' in the bushes, and one o' them takin' aim almost straight for my face. * Your day's come at last,' thought I, looking over my shoulder at the big Injin, who was drawing his bow again. Just then there was a sharp crack heard — a bullet whistled past my ear, and the big fellow fell like a stone, while my comrade stood coolly up to reload liis i m, me, ran tame jhes, face. my Ibow -a Hike liis FROM THE FAR NOHTH. 187 rifle. The Injins, on secin' this, pulled up in a moment ; and our lads stepping forward, delivered a volley tliat made three more o' them bite the dust. Tliero would have been six in tliat fix, but, somehow or other, three of us pitched upon the same man, who was aftcnvards found with a biiUct in each eye and one througli his heart. They didn't w^ait for more, but turned about and bolted like the wind. Now, Mr Charles, if I had told the truth that time, we would have been all killed ; and if I had simply said nothin' to their questions, they would have sent out to scour the country, and have found out the camp for sartin, so that the only way to escape was by tellin' them a heap o' downright lies." Charley looked very much perplexed at this. " You have indeed placed me in a difficulty. I know not what I would have done. I don't know even what I ought to do under these circumstances. Difficulties may perplex me, and the force of circumstances might tempt me to do what I believed to be wrong. I am a sinner, Jacques, like otlier mortals, I know ; but one thing I am quite sure of, namely, that, when men speak, it should always be truth and never falsehood." Jacques looked perplexed too. He was strongly im- pressed with the necessity of telling falsehood in the cir- cumstances in wliich he had been placed, as just related, while at the same time he felt deeply the grandeur and the power of Charley's last remark. " I should have been under the sod now,'' said he, " if I had not told a lie then. Is it better to die than to spt^ak falsehood ?" " Some men have thought so," replied Cliarley. " I acknowledge the difficulty of yovr case, and of all similar la t ) ;i t ! .; i 'i It V^S. li !l I * V li -> ■( ^1 I ! I i* i li 111 P '-A ij i :!! » ,1,1 If 18« SN'OWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS cases. I don't know wliat slioukl be done; but I have read of a minister of tlie gospel whose people were very wicked and would not attend to his instructions, although they could not but respect himself, he was so consistent and Christ ianlike in his conduct. Persecution arose in the country where he lived, and men and women were cruelly murdered because of their religious belief For a long time he was left unmolested; but one day a band of soldiers came to his house, and asked him whether he was a Papist or a Protestant — (Papist, Jacques, being a man who has sold his liberty in religious matters to the Pope, and a Protestant being one Avho protests against such an ineflably silly and unmanly state of slavery.) Well, his ])eople urged the good old man to say he was a Papist, telling him that he would then be spared to live among them, and preach the true faith for many years perhaps. Now^ if there was one thing that this old man would have toiled for and died for, it was, that his people should be- come ".iKO Christians, — and hetold them so, 'but,' headded, *I will not tell a lie to accomplish that end, my cliildren; no, not even to save my life.' So he told the «!oldiers that he was a Protestant, and immediately they carried him awav, and he was soon afterwards burned to death." "Well," said Jacques, "he didn't gain much by stick- ing to the tinith, I think." '' I'm not so sure of that. The story goes on to say, that he rejoiced that he had done so, and wouldn't draw back even when he was in the flames. But the point lies here, Jacques : so deep an impression did the old man's conduct make on his people, that from that day forward they were noxed for their Cliristian life and conduct, Tliey brought up their children with a deeper roverenc ' m FROM THE FAR NORTH. 189 for the truth than they would otlierwise have done, always bearing in affectionate rememl)rance, and holding up to them as an exam])h>, the unflinching trnthfuhiess of the good old man who \va.s burned in the year of tlie terrible poi-secutions ; and at last their influence and example had such an effect that tlie Protestant religion spread like wild- fire, far and wide around them, so that the veiy thing was acconiplislu.'d for which the old pastor said he would have died : accomplished, too, very much in consequence of his death, and in a way, and to an extent that very likely would not have been the case, had he lived and preached among them for a hundi-ed yeai-s." " I don't understand it, nohow," said Jacques, " it seems to me right both ways and wrong both ways, and all up- side do\vn every how." Charley smiled. " Your remark is about as clear as my head on the subject, Jacques, but I still remain convinced that truth is right and that falsehood is wrong, and that we should stick to the first through thick and thin." " I s'pose," remarked the hunter, who had walked along in deep cogitation for the last five minutes, and had aj)- parently come to some conclusion of profound depth and sagacity, " I s'pose that it's all human natur' ; that some men takes to preachin' as Injins take to huntin', and that to undei-stand sich tilings requires them to begin young, and risk their lives in it, as T would in followin' up a grizzly she-bear with cubs." " Yonder is an illustration of one part of your remark. They begin young enough, anyhow," said Charley, pointing as he spoke to an opening in the bushes, where a par- ticularly small Indian boy stood in the act of discharging ftji arrow. || ii ■ :; I !'f I tilt If !''!> * i ? f u i'i if I; ) i f. * ' I: ! I 1 ' { ^ ! 190 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS The two men halted to watch his movements. Accord- ing to a common custom among juvenile Indians during the warm months of the year, he wa.s dressed in nothing save a mere rag tied round his waist. His body was 7ery brown, extremely round, fat, and wondeifully diminutive, while his little legs and arms were dis- proportionately small. He was so young as to be barely able to walk, and yet there he stood, his black eyes glit- tering with excitement, his tiny bow bent to its utmost, and a blunt -headed arrow about to be discharged at a squirrel, whose flight had been suddenly arrested by the unexpectea apparition of Charley and Jacques. As he stood there for a single instant, perfectly motionless, he might have been mistaken for a grotesque statue o^ an Indian cupid. Taking advantage of the squirrel's pause, the child let fly the arrow, hit it exactly on the point of the nose, and turned it over, dead, — a consummation which he greeted with a rapid succession of frightful yeUs. " Cleverly done, my lad ; you're a chip of the old block, I see," said Jacques, patting the child's head as he passed, and retraced his steps, with Charley, to the Indian camp. m FUOM THE FAR NOUTU. 191 CHAPTER XV. The Feast ; Charley makes his first speech in public ; meets with au old friend ; an evening in tlio grass. an Savages, not less than civilised men, are fond of a good dinner. In saying tliLs, we do not expect our reader to be overwhelmed with astonishment. He miglit have guessed as much ; but when we state that savages, upon particular occasions, eat six dinners in one, and make it a point of honour to do so, we apprehend that we have tkrown a slightly new light on an old subject. Doubt- less, there are men in civilised society who would do like- wise if they could ; but they cannot, fortunately, as great gastronomic powers are dependent on severe, health- ful, and prolonged physical exertion. Therefore it is that in England we find men capable only of eating about two dinners at once, and suffering a good deal for it afterwards, while in the backwoods we see men con Bume a week's dinners in one, without any evil conse- quences following the act. The feast which was given by the Knisteneux in honour of the visit of our two friends was provided on a more moderate scale than usual, in order to accommodate the capacities of the " white men ; " three days' allowance being cooked for each man. (Women are never admitted to the public feasts.) On the day preceding the ceremony. Charley and Jacques had received cards of invitation 1 i- ) '[ !i ■Ji M I n V: !; m ; ! (! ■ t. J it f I:! I: I' IP' if 1 1 ■if:. 192 SNuWFLAKPS AfTD SLMJKAMI3 from the principal cliief, in the sliiipu of two tpiills ; similar invites being issued at tlie same time to all the braves. Jacques, being accustomed to the doings of [ndians, and aware of the fact, that whatever wjus pro vided for each man, must be eaten before he quitted the scene of operations, advised Charley to eat no breakfast, and to take a gtjod walk as a pre})arative. Charley had strong faith, however, in his digestive powers, and felt much inclined, when morning came, to satisfy the cravings of liis appetite as usual ; but Jacques drew such a gi'aphic picture of the work that lay before him, that he forbore to urge the matter, and went off to walk with a light step, and an uncomfortable feeling of vacuity about the region of the stomach. About noon, the chiefs and braves assembled in an open enclosure situated in an exposed place on the banks of the river, where the [)roceedings were watclied by the women, cliildren, and dogs. The oldest chief sat himself down on the turf at one end of the enclosure, with Jacques Caradoc on his right hand, and next to him Charley Kennedy, who had ornamented himself with a blue stripe painted down the middle of his nose, and a red bar across his chin. Charley's propensity for fun had led him thus to decorate his face, in spite of his companion's remonstrances, urging, by way of excuse, that worthy's former argument, *' that it was well to fall in with the ways o' the people a man happened to be among, so long as these ways and customs were not con- trary to what was right." Now, Charley was sure theie was nothing wi'ong in his painting his nose sky blue, if he thought fit. Jacques thought it was absurd, and entertained thp FIIOM THE FAK NOHTll. 1"J3 thp Dpinion that it would be more diguiliud to leave his i"ac€ " ita uat'ral colour." Charley didn't agree with him at all. lie thought it would be paying tlie Indians a high complimeni to follow their customs as far as possible, and said, tluit, after all, his blue nose would iKjt be very eontipicuous, as he (Jaccpn.'s) had told him that he would "look blut!"at any rate, when he saw the quantity of tleer's meat he should have to devour. Jactpies lauglied at this, but sugge>^tf ' -! 1 Mo t i ■ilil ' ' i t ) 1 ( l \ ■ i,' 194 8NO\VFLAlCK3 AND SUNBKAMS Wliilo tlioy wore Heated thus, anotlier party of ludians, who liad been absent ou a hunting expedition, strode rapidly but noiselessly into the enclosuro, and seated themselves in the circle. One of these pjissed close to Charley, and in doing ho Btoo})('d, took his hand, and pressed it. Charley looked up in surprise, and loheld the face of his old friend Redfeather, gazing at him with an expression in which was mingled allection, surprise, and amusement at tlie peculiar alteration in hia visage. "Redfeather!" exclaimed Charley, in delight, half rising ; but the Indian pressed him down. " You must not rise," he whispffrtid, and, giving his hand another squeeze, passed round the circle, and took Ids place directly opposite. Having continued motionless for five minutes with becoming gravity, the company began operations by pro- ceeding to smoke out of the sacred stem, a ceremony which precedes all occasions of importance ; and is conducted as follows : — The sacred stem is placed on two forked sticks to prevent its touching the ground, as that would be con- sidered a great evil. A stone pipe is then filled with tobacco, by an attendant appointed specially to that office, and affixed to the stem, which is presented to the prin- cipal chief. That individual, with a gravity and hauteur that is unsurpassed in the annals of pomposity, receives the pipe in both hands, blows a puff to the east (probably in consequence of its being the quarter whence the sun rises) and thereafter pays a similar mark of attention to the other thn ■ points. He then raises the pipe above hLs h(;ad, points and balances it in vaiious directions (for best known to juson view FKOM TlIK FAU NOItTII. 19C himself), »tml replaces it again on the forks. Tho coux' {•any meanwliilo obaorve liia proct>eding8 with sedato interest, evidently imbued witli the idea that they are deriving from the ceren.ujy a vast ftniount of edification ; an idea wliich is helped out, doubtless, by tho appearance of the women and children, who surround the enclosure, and gaze at the proceedings with looks of awe-struck seriousness that is quite solemnising to beholtl. The chief then makes a speech relative to the circum- stance which has called them together ; and which is alAvays more or less interlarded with boastful reference to his own deeds, past, present, and prospective, eulogistic remarks on those of his forefathei*s, and a general con- demnation of all other Indian tribes whatever. These speeches are usually delivered with gi-eat animation, and contain much poetic allusion to the objects of nature that surround the homes of the savage. The speech being finished, the chief sits down amid a universal " Ho ! " ut- tered by the company with an emphatic prolongation of the last letter — this syllable being the Indian substitute, we presume, for " rapturous applause." The chief who officiated on the present occasion, having accomplished the opening ceremonies thus far, sat down, while the pipe-bearer presented the sacred stem to the membei*s of the company in succession, each of whom drew a few whiffs and mumbled a few words. " Do as you see the redskins do, Mr Charles," whis- pered Jacques, while the pipe was going round. " That's impossible," replied Charley, in a tone that could not be heai'd except by his friend. " I couldn't make a fjiee of hideous solemnity like that black thief opjM^site. if I was to try ever so hard." m M\\ t 8' 111 ! J •1 S: i M 1; i i' u f,;i Ul ■ ■ t ! I ll''^:i:| 1 mi 19G 8N()W FLAKES AND SUNBEAMS " Don't let them think you're laughing at them," re- turned the hunter ; " they would be ill-jjleased if they thought so." " I'll try," said Charley, " but it is hard work, Jacques, to keep from laughing ; I feel like a high pressure steam- engine already. There's a woman standing out there with a little brown baby on her back ; she has quite fascinated me j I can't keep my eyes oil' her, and if she goes on contort- ing her visage much longer, I feel that I shall give way." " Hush ! " At tliis moment the pipe was presented to Charley, who })ut it to his lij^s, drew three whiffs, and returned it with a bland smile to the bearer. The smile was a veiy sweet one, for that was a peculiar tiait in the native urbanity of Charh.'y's disposition, and it would have gone far in civilised society to prepossess strangers in his favour ; but it lowered him considerably in the estimation of his red friends, who entei-tained a wholesome feeling of contempt for any appearance of levity on high occasions. But Charley's face was of that agree- able stamj), that, though gentle and bland when lighted up with a smile, is particularly masculine and manly in expression when in repose, and the frown that knit his brows when he observed the bad impression he had given, almost reinstated him in their esteem. But liis po})ularity became great, and the admiration of his swarthy friend;' greater, when he rose and made an eloquent speech in F.aglish, which Jacques translated into the Indian lan- guage. He told them, in rej)ly to the chief's oration (wherein that warrior had complimented his pale-faced brothers on their numerous good qualities) that lie was delighted and i i^tll FKOM THE FAU NOKTH. iy? Iiroud to meet witli his Indian tViund.sj that the object oi his mission was to acqnaint tlicm witli the lact that a new trading fort was established not far o IT, by himself and his comrades, for their special benefit and behoof; that the stores were full of goods which he hoped they would soon obtain possession of, in exchange for fui*s ; that he had travelled a great distance on jnirpose to see their land and ascertain its capabilities \n t)ie way of fur bearing animals and game ; that he had not been disappointed in his ex- pectations,as he had found the animals to be as numerous as bees, the fish plentiful in the rivers and lakes, and the country at large a perfect paradise. He proceeded to tell them further that he ex|)ected they would justify the report he had heard of them, that they were a brave nation and good huntei's, by bringing in large quantities of furs. Being strongly urged by Jaccpies to compliment them on their various good qualities, Charley launched out into an extravagantly poetic vein, said that he had heard (lout he hoped to have many opportunities of seeing it proved) that there wa^s no nation under the sun e(pial to them in bravery, activity, and perseverance ; that he had heard of men in olden times who made it their profession to fight with wild bulls for the amusement of their friends, but he had no doubt whatever their courage would be mady conspicuous in the way of fighting wild bears and buffaloes, not for the amusement, but the benefit of their wives and children (lie might have added of the Hudson's Bay Com- pany, but he didn't, supposing that that was self-evident, probably.) He complimented them on the way in wliicb they had conducted themselves in war in times past, com- paring their stealthy approach to enemif s camps, to the iuisidious snake that glides among the busJiL-s and darts ri iij. = 1^ Its f itol^ ! i| i i h * III i ? 1 1. 1 ', f • > .? ifll 3 ^ ii 'il 198 SNOWFI.AKES AND SUNBEAMS unexpectedly on its prey ; said that their eyes were sharp to follow the war-trail tliroiigh the forest or over the dry sward of the prairie ; their aim with gun or bow true and sure as the flight of the goose when it leaves the lands of the sun, and points its beak to the icy regions of the north ; their war-whoops Icud as the thunders of the cataract ; and their sudden onset like the lightning flaah that darts from the sky and scatters the stout oak in splinters on the plain. At this point Jacques expressed his satisfaction at the style in which his young friend was progressing. " That's your sort, Mr Charles. Don't spare the butter. Lay it on thick. You've not said too much yet, for they are a brave race, that's a fact, as I've good reason to know." Jacques, however, did not feel quite so well satisfied when Charley went on to tell them that, although bravery in war was an admirable tiling, war itself was a thing not at all to be desired, and should only be undertaken in case of necessity. He especially pointed out that there was not much glory to be earned in fighting against the Chipe- wyans, who, eveiybody knew, were a poor, timid set of people, whom they ought rather to pity than to destroy ; and recommended them to devote themselves more to the chase than they had done in times past, and less to the prosecution of war in time to come. All this, and a great deal more, did Charley say, in a manner, and with a rapidity of utterance, that surprised liimself, when he considered the fact that he had never adventured into the field of public speaking before. All this, and a great deal more — a very great deal more — did Jacques Caradoc interpret to the admiring Indians, who FIIOM THE FAR NORTH. 198 piiWj listened with the utmost gravity and profound attention, gi'eeting the close with a veiy emphatic " Ho ! " Jacques' translation was by no means perfect. IVIany of the flights into v/liich Charley ventured, especially in regard to the manners and customs of the savages of ancient Greece and Home, were quite incomprehensible to the worthy backwoodsman — but he invariably pro- ceeded, when Charley halted, giving a flight of his own when at a loss, varying and modifying when he thought it advisable, and altering, adding, or cutting oS'as he pleased. Several other chiefs addressed the assembly, and then dinner, if we may so call it, was served. In Cliarley's case, it was breakftist. To the Indians, it v as breakfast, dinner, and supper in one. It consisted of a large platter of dried meat, reindeer tongues (considered a great deb- cacy), and maiTOw-bones. Notwithstanding the graphic power with which Jacques had prepared his young companion for this meal, Charley's heart sank when he beheld the mountain of boiled meat that was placed before him. He was raven- ously hungry, it is true, but it was patent to his percep- tion at a glance, that no powers of gormandising of which he was capable could enable him to consume the mass in the course of one day. Jacques observed liis consternation, and was not a little entertained by it, although his face wore an expression of profound gravity, while he proceeded to attack his own dish, which was equal to that of his friend. Before commencing, a small portion of meat was thrown into the fire, as a sacrifice to the Great Master of Life. " How they do eat, to be sure ! " whispered Charley to Jacques, after he had glanced in wonder at the circle of m ! if / u.. i |i Mr 'A ■■If HI t I ::1 I ' ? ,i ! •,! , ( ^! I I i ■hi :• J'i a f 1 I i! 1; i; :'|i '*n f3 ', i 1 200 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS men who were devouring their food with the moat extra- ordinary rapidity. " Why, you must know," replied Jacques, " that it's considered a point of honour to got it over soon, and tlie man that is done first gets most credit. But it's hard work " (lie sighf^l and j)aused a little to breathe), "and I've not got half through yet." " It's quite jdain that I must lose credit with them, then, if it depends on my eating that. Tell me, Jacques, is there no way of escape 1 Must I sit here till it is all consumed 1 " '* No doubt of it. Every bit that has been cooked must be crammed down our throats somehow or other." Charley heaved a deep sigh, and made another des- perate attack on a large steak, wliile the Indians around him made cousideraV>le progress in reducing their respec- tive mountains. Several times Charley and Redfeather exchangee glances as they paused in their labours. " I say, Jacques," said Charley, pidling up once more " how do you get on i Pretty well stuffed by this time. r should imagine 1 " " Oh, no ! I've a good deal o' room yet." " I give in. Credit or disgrace, it's all one. I'll not make a pig of myself for any redskin in the land" Jacques smiled. " See," continued Charley, " there's a fellow opposite who has devoured as much as would have served me for three days. I don't know whether it's imagination or not, but I do verily believe that he's blacker in the face than when he sat down !" " Very likely," replied Jacques, wiping his lipp ; " now rVe done " FKOM THE FAR NOUTH. 201 m *• Done 1 you have left at least a third of your supply." " True, and I may aa well tell you for your comfort, tliat there is one way of escape open to you. It is a cus- tom among these fellows, that when any one cannot gulp his share o' the prog, he may get help from any of liia friends who can cram it down their throats ; and as there are always such fellows among these Injius, they seldom have any difficulty." " A most convenient i)ractice," replied Charley ; '* I'll adopt it at once." Charley turned to his next neighboui* with the intent to beg of him to eat his remnant of the feast. " Bless my heart, Jacqu*3s, I've no chance with the fellow on my left hand; he's stuffed quite full already, and is not quite done with his own share." " Never fear," replied his friend, looking at the indi- vidual in question, who was languidly lifting a marrow- bone to his lips, " he'll do it easy, I knows the gauge o' them chaps, and, for all his sleepy look just now, he's game for a lot more." " Impossible," replied Charley, looking in despair at his unfinished viands and then at the Indian. A glance round the circle seemed further to convince him that if he did not eat it himself, there were none of the party likely to do so. " You'll have to give him a good lump o' tobacco to do it, though ; he won't undertake so much for a trifle, I can tell you." Jacques chuckled as he said this, and hai.ded his own portion over to another Indian, who readilj undertook to finish it for him. " He'll burst ; I feel certain of that," said Charley, with a deep sigh, as he surveyed his friend on the left. 'n ('? |! i ) f r »l, l^ :■ -1 i 1 Mil I!: I ill 1;^ fin!;: FMi 202 8N0WFLAKES AND SUNRRAMS At last he took courage to propose the thing to him and, just as the man finished the last morsel of his own repast, Charley placed his own plate before him, ^vith a look that seemed to say, " Eat it, my friend, if you can." The Indian, much to his sui'prise, immediately com- merced to it, and in less than half-an-hour the whole was disposed of. During this scene of gluttony, one of the chiefs enter- tained the assembly with a wild and most unmusical chaunt, to which he beat time on a sort of tambourine, while the wo- men outside of the enclosure beat a similar accompaniment. " I say, master," whispered Jacques, " it seems to my obseiwation that the fellow you called Redfeather eats less than any Injin I ever saw. He has got a comrade to eat more than half of his share ; now that's strange." " It won't appear strange, Jacques, when I tell you that Redfeather has lived much more among white men than Indians during the last ten years, and although voyageurs eat an enormous quantity of food, they don't make it a point of honour, as these fellows seem to do, to eat much more than enougL Besides, Redfeather is a very different man from those around him ; he has been partially educated by the missionaries on Playgreen Lake, and I tliink has a strong leaning towards them." While they were thus conversing in whispera, Red- feather rose, and, holding forth his hand, delivered himseK of the following oration : — " The time has come for Redfeather to speak. He has kept silence for many moons now ; but his heart has bee^ full of words. It is too fulL He must speak now. Eledfeather has fought with his tribe and has been ac- Xiuuted a brave, and one who loves his peo])lo. This A m FROM TIIR FAR NOllTH. 2(»J i? tnio. Hg does love, even more tlian they can un- derstand. His friends know that he has never fearether shout of laughter. " Not I," replied the doctor, " I merely recomuiended him to keep his eye on the sun, lest he should lose his way, and hastened home; for it just occurred to me that I had forgotten to visit Louis Blanc, who cut liis foot with an axe yesterday, and v/hose wound required redressing, so I left the poor youth to learn from experience." " Pray, who did you leave to that delightful fate 1 " asked Mr Wilson, issuing from his bedroom and ap- proaching the stove. Mr Wilson was a middle-aged, good-humoured, active man, who filled the onerous offices of superintendent of the men, trader of furs, seller of goods to the Indians, and general factotum. " Our friend Hamilton," answered the doctor, in reply to his question. " I think he is, without exception, the most egregious nincompoop I ever saw. Just as I passed the long swamp on my way home, I met him crashing through the bushes in hot pursuit of a rabbit, the track of which he mistook for a fox. Poor fellow, he had been out since breakfast, and only shot a brace of ptarmigan, although they are as thick as bees and quite tame. ' But then, do you see,' said he, in excuse, * I'm so very short- sighted ! Would you believe it, I've blown fifteen lumps of snow to atoms, in the belief that they were ptarmi- gan ! ' and then he rushed off again." IIP ' . , • • 099 SNOWFLAKRS AND SUNnFAMS m\:\ ■ " No doulit," said ISTr Wilson, smiling, " the lad is very ^en — but lio's a good ft-Uow for all that." " I'll answer for that," said the accountant ; " T found him over at the mtni's houses this morning doing your work for you, doctor." " How so?" inquired the disoiplo of -^T^sculapiua. " Attending to your wounded man, Louis Blanc, to be sure; and he seemed to speak to him as wisely as if he had walked the hospitals, and rcgidarly piissed for an M.D." "Indeed!" said the doctor with a mischievous grin. '* Then I must pay him cjII for interfering with my patients." " Ah, doctor, you're too fond of practical jokes. You never let slip an opportunity of ' paying off' your fiicnds for something or other. It's a bad habit. Practical jokes are very bad things — shockingly bad," said Mr Wilson, as he put on his fur cap, and wound a thick shawl round his throat, preparatory to leaving the room. As INIr Wilson gave utterance to this opinion, he passed Harry Somerville, who was still staring at the fire in deep mental abstraction, and, as he did so, gave his tilted chair a very slight push backwards with his finger, — an action which caused Harry to toss up his legs, grasp convidsively with both hands at empty air, and fall with a loud noise and an angry yell to the ground, while his persecutor \'anished from the scene. " you outrageous villain ! " cried Harry, shaking his fist at the door, as he slowly gathered himself up ; "1 might have expected that." " Quite so," said the doctor, " you might. It wns very neatly done, undoubtedly. Wilson deserves credit for the way in which it was executed " very found r your , to be lio had [.D." s Qvm. th my i. You friends 'ractical aid Mr a thick room. Lion, he at the so, gave with his his legs, and ftill id, while shaking f up; (( It wns t-es credit FiiOM Tin; vwi NoiiTn •W M U " He dt"»(TvcH Im l>c cxecutoil tor domg it Hi :ili,' re|)li»'d llan-y, iMil>l)ing Iii>. elbow an lio rrsumctl his ■^cat, " Any li.iik kiKicUcd nllT' iiH[iiin'd ihr acconiitant, jus 111' took a |»iec(; of glowing charcoal from the stove, where- with lo light his jii|»e. " Try a whill", Harry. I t's good lor such things ; hruises, H»)rc.s, contusions, spniins, rlu>u- niatie alli'ctions ot the hack and loins, carbuncles and earache — thei-c's nothing that smoking wont cure — eh, doctor ?" "Certainly. If ap))lied inwardly, tl;ere's nothing so good for digestion wlien one doesn't require tonics. 'I'ry it, Harry, it will do you good, I a.ssure you." "No, thank you," replied Jlarry, "I'll leave that to you and the chimney. I don't wish to make a soot-bag of my mouth. But tell me, doctor, what do you mean to do with that lump of snow there l " Harry [jointed to a mass of snow, of about two feet square, which lay on the floor beside the door. It iiad been placed there by the doctor sometime [)reviously. " Do with it ? Have patience, my friend, and you shall see. It is a little sur])rise I have in store for Hamilton." As he spoke, the door opened, and a short, square- built man rushed into the njom, with a pistol in one hand, and a bright little bullet in the other. " Hallo, skipper !" cried Harry, " what's the row i " " All right," cried the skipper, " here it is at last, solid as tlie fluke of an anchor. Toss me the {jowder- tlask, Harry ; look sharp, else it'U melt." A powder-flask was immediately produced, from which the skipper ha.stily charged the [)i8tol, and rammed down the shining bullet. '■ it 22 SNOWFT, \KKS AND SUNBEAi-"..^ ?. i .'_ ' (i I 11^ r; M.| i; '■•! " .Now tlion," said he, " look out for ^quails. Clear the decks tliere." And, rushing to the door, he fluiiLi; it open, took a 8tco,dy aim at something outside, and lired. "Is the man mad?" said tlie accountant, as, with a look of amazement, he beheld the skipf)er spring through the doorway, and immediately return bearing in his arms a large ])iece of lir plardc. " Not quite mad yet," he said, in reply, " but I've sent a ball of quicksilver through an inch plank, and that's not a thing to be done every day — even Iio'e, although it is cold enough sometimes to freeze up one's very ideas." " Dear me," interrupted Harry .Somerville, looking as if a new tliought had struck him, " that must be it ! I've no doubt that poor Hamilton's ideas are frozen, which accounts for the tot;d al)sence of any indication of his possessing such things." " I observed," continued the skip])er, not noticing the interruption, *' that the glass was down at 4/) degrees below zero this morning, and j»ut out a bullet-mould full of mercury, and you see the i-esidt ;" as he spoke, he held up the perforated plank in triumph. The skipper was a strange mixture of qualities. To a wild, off-hand, sailoi'-like hilarity of disposition, in hours of leisure, he united a grave, steru energy of character while employed in the {performance of his duties. Duty was always paramount with him. A sndle could ficareely be extracted from him, while it was in the course of per- lormance. But, the instant his work was done, ft new »[)irit seemed to take [)ossession of the man. Fun, mis- chief of any kind, no matter how childish, he entered into with the greatest delight and enthusiasm Among othei 'm§ sar the took H with ii ln-oni:;li is arms ve sent I that's lOugh it (leOvS." looking t be it ! ). frozen, ition of cing the (Uigreea ould full he held a. To a in hours character Duty L scan-ely e of per- e, a new un, mis- ered into Mig othci FUOAl THE FAR NOKTll. 225 [»eculiaritie«, he had become deeply imlnied with a thirst for scientific knowledge, ever since he had acquired, with infinite labour, the small modicum of science necessary to navigation ; and his doings in pui-suit of statistical infor- mation relative to the weather, and the jjhenomena of nature generally, were very peculiar, and in some cases outrageous. His transaction with the quicksilver wtis in consequence of an eager desire to see that metal frozen, (an efiect which takes place when the spirit-of-wine ther- mometer falls to 39 degrees below zero of Fahrenheit,) and a wish to be able to boast of having actually fired a mer- curial bullet through an inch plank. Having made a careful note of the fact, with all the relative circum- f .ances attending it, in a very much blotted book, which he denominated his scientific log, the worthy skipper threw ofi" his coat, drew a chair to the stove, and pre- pared to regale himself with a pipe. As he glanced slowly round the room, while thus engaged, his eye fell on the mass of snow before alluded to. On being in- formed bv the doctor for what it was intended, he laid down his pipe and rose hastily from his chair. " You've not a moment to lose," said he. " As I came in at the gate just now, I saw Hamilton coming down the river on the ice, and he must be almost arrived now." " Up with it then," cried the doctor, seizing the snow, and lifting it to the top of the door; "hand me those bits of stick, Harry ; quick, man, stii" your stumps. Now then, skipper, fix them in so, wliile I hold this up." The skipper lent wilhng and efiective aid, so that in a few minutes the snow was placed in such a position, that, upon the opening of the door, it must inevitably fall on the head of the first pei-son who should enter the rt»um. i# ,1 'ijm ammmm 226 8N0WFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS Hu a-: 'II "■ So," said the skipper, " that's rigged up in what I call a ship-shape fashion." " True," remarked the doctor, eying the arrangement with a look of approval; " it will do, I think, admirably." " Don't you think, skipper," said Hariy Somerville, gravely, as he resumed his seat in front of the fire, " that it would he worth while to make a careful and minute entry in your private log of the manner in which it was put up, to be afterwards followed by an account of its effect ? You might write an essay on it, now ; and call it the extraordinary effects of a fall of snow in latitude so and so ; eh 1 What think you of it ?" The skipper vouchsafed no reply, but made a significant gesture with his fist, which caused Harry to put himself in a posture of defence. At this moment, footsteps were heard on the wooden platform in front of the building'. Instantly all became silence and expectation in the hall, as the result of the practical joke was about to be realised. Just then another step w^as heard on the plat- form, and it became evident that tAvo persons were ap- proaching the door. " Hope it'll be the right man," said the skipper, with a look savouring slightly of anxiety. As he spoke, the door opened, and a foot crossed the threshold ; the next instant, the miniature avalanche descended on tlie head and shoulders of a man, who reeled forward from the weight of the blow, and, covered from head to foot with snow, fell to the ground amid shouts of laughter. With a convulsive stao^ip and shake, the prostrate figure sprang up and confronted the party. Had the yhat 1 nrement irably." lerville, he fire, jful and n whicli account Lt, now ; snow in itr inrnificant o .t himself Q wooden ,11 in the lut to be the plat- were ap- [er, with a L'ossed the avalanche s^ho reeled Irered from shouts of prostrate Had the l^liOM THE FAR NORTH. 227 Gost-iron stove suddenly burst into atoms, and blown the roof off the house, it could scarcely have created greater consternation than that which filled the merry jesters when they belield the visage of Mr Regan, the superin- tendent of the fort, red with passion, and fringed with snow. " So," said he, stam2)iug violently with his foot, partly from anger, and partly with the view of shaking off the unexpected covering, which stuck all over his dress in little patches, producing a somewhat piebald effect, "so you are pleased to jest, gentlemen. Pray, who placed that piece of snow over the door 1 " Mr Rogan glared fiercely round upon the cul]irits, who stood speechless before him. Fo->' a moment he stood silent, as if uncertain how to aCv ■ " ^i , turning short on his heel, he strode quickly out ! ' ..d room, nearly overturning Mr Hamilton, who at the same iri.^tant entered it, carrying his gun and snow-shoes under his arm. "Dear me, what has happened 1" he exclaimed, in a peculiarly gentle tone of voice, at the same time regard- ing the snow and the horror-stricken circle with a look of intense sm'prise. " You see what has happened," replied Harry Somer- ville, who was the first to recover his composure ; "I presume you intended to ask, ' What has caused it to happen V Perhaps the skipper will explain. It's beyond me, quite." Thus appealed to, that worthy cleared his throat, and said — " Why, you see, Mr Hamilton, a great phenomenon of meteorology has happened. We were all standing, you : i ^4 Li it i l!l \i 1 '■ ri- !. I it!|S ' ) I •■fi i ; 5 1 J 1 i 1 ' : 'I I ■ 1 1 I 228 CSNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS must know, at the open door, taking a squint at the weather, when our attention was attracted by a curious object that appeared in the sky, and seemed to be coming down at the rate of ten knots an hour, right end-on for the house. I had just time to cry, ' Clear out, lads,' when it came slap in through the doorway, and smashed to shivers there, where you see the fragments. In fact, it's a wonderful aerolite, and Mr Rogan has just gone out with a lot of the bits in his pocket, to make a careful examination of them, and draw up a report for the Geo- logical Society in London. I shouldn't wonder if he were to send oil' an ex])ress to-night ; and maybe you will have to convey the news to head-quarters ; so you'd better go and see him about it soon." Soft although Mr Hamilton was supposed to be, he was not quite prepared to give credit to this explanation ; but, being of a peaceful disposition, and altogether unac- customed to retort, he merely smiled his disbelief, as he proceeded to lay aside his fowling-piece, and divest him- self of the voluminous out-of-door trappings with which he was clad. Mr Hamilton was a tall, slender youth, of about nineteen. He had come out by the ship in autumn, and was spending his first winter at York Fort. Up to the period of his entering the Hudson's Bay Company's service, he had never been more than twenty miles from home ; and, having mingled little with the world, was somewhat unsophisticated, besides being by nature gentle and unassuming. Soon after this, the man who acted as cook, waiter, and butler to the mess, entered, and said that Mr Rogaii desired to see the accountant immediately. Bit the jurious coming L-on for ;,' when shed to fact, it's one out , careful lie Geo- er if he ybe you so you'd bo be, he lanation ; lier unac- ief, as he vest him- ith which yoiith, of autumn, Up to Company's aiiles from vorld, waa ,ure gentle )k, waiter, Mr Rogaii FKOM THE FAR NORTH. 223 " Who am 1 to say did it ?" inquired that gentleman, ad he rose to obey the summons. " Wouldn't it be a disinterested piece of kindness ii you were to say it was youi'sclf?" suggested the doctor. " Perhaps it would, but I won't," replied the account- ant, as he made his exit. In about half-an-hour, INIr Rogan and the accountant re-entered the apartment. The former had quite regained Ms composure. He was naturally amiable ; which hapj)y disposition was indicated by a habitually cheerful look and smile. " Now, gentlemen," said he, " I find that this practical joke was not intended for me, and therefore look upon it as an unlucky accident ; but I cannot too strongly express my dislike to practical jokes of all kinds. I have seen great evil, and some bloodshed, result from practical jokes ; and I think that, being a sufierer in consequence of your fondness for them, I have a right to beg that you will abstain from such doings in future, — at least from such jokes as involve risk to those who do not choose to enter into them." Having given vent to this speech, Mr Rogan left hia volatile friends to digest it at their leisure. " Serves us right," said the skipper, pacing up and down the room in a repentant frame of mind, with hia thumbs hooked into the arm-holes of his vest. The doctor said nothing, but breathed hard, and smoked vigorously. While we admit most thoroughly with Mr Rogan that practical jokes are exceedingly bad, and productive, fre- quently, of far Diore evil than fun, we feel it our duty, i! if I* 230 8N0WFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS f i'\ |!; » in ! . I ' ,i as a faithful delineator of maiiners, customs, and charao fcer in these regions, to urge in palliation of the oflence committed by the young gentlemen at York Fort, that they had really about as few amusements, and sources of excitement, as fall to the lot of any class of men. They were entirely dependent on their own unaided exertions, during eight or nine months of tlie year, for amusement or recreation of any kind. Their books were few in number, and soon read through. The de- solate wildernes.s around afforded no incidents to form subjects of conversation, further than the events of a day's shooting, which, being nearly similar every day, soon lost all interest. No newspapers came to tell of the doings of the busy world from "^v-hich they were shut out, and nothing occurred to vary the dull routine of their life ; so that it is not matter for wonder that they were diiven to seek for relaxation and excitement, occa- sionally, in most outrageous and unnatural ways, and to indulge, now and then, in the perpetration of a practical joke. For some time after the rebuke administered by Mr Rogan, silence reigned in Bachelor'' s Hall, as the clerks' house was termed. But at length symptoms of ennui began to be displayed. The doctor yawned, and lay down on his bed to enjoy an American newspaper about twelve months old. Harry Somerville sat down to re-read a volume of Franklin's travels in the Polar Regions, which he had perused twice already. Mr Hamilton busied himself in cleaning his fowling-piece ; while the skipper conversed with Mr Wilson, who was engaged in his room in adjusting an ivory head to a walking-stick. Mr Wilson was a jack-of-all-trades, who could make shift, one way m\ chardC' oflence 't, that sources >f men. unaided ear, for : books The de- to form ats of a ery day, 11 of the shut out, of their hey were it, occa- 3, and to :)ractical I by INIr le clerks' of ennui ay down ut twelve re-read a ns, which busied e skipper his room r Wilson one way m FROM TUE FA 11 NOKTII. 231 or other, to do anything. Tlie accountant paced the uncarpeted floor in deep contemplation. At length he paused, and looked at Harry Somer\nne for Bome time. " What say you to a walk through the woods to North River, HaiTy 1 " " Ready," cried Hany, tossing down the book with a look of contempt, — " ready for anything." "Will you come, Hamilton'?" added the accountant, Hamilton looked up in surprise. " You don't mean, surely, to take so long a walk in the dark, do you? It is snomng, too, very heavily, and I think you said that North River was five miles off, did you not ?" " Of course I mean to walk in the dark," replied the accountant, " unless you can extemporise an artificial light for the occasion, or prevail on the moon to come out for my special benefit. As to snowing, and a short tramp of five miles, why, the sooner you get to think of such things as tr-ijles the better, if you hope to be fit for any- thing in this country." " I dont think much of them," replied Hamilton, softly, and with a slight smile ; '• I only meant that such a walk was not very attractive so lace in the evening." " Attractive ! " shouted Harry Somerville, from his bedroom, where he was equipping himself for the walk, " what can be more attractive than a sharp run of ten miles through the woods on a cool night, to visit your traps, with the prospect of a silver fox, or a wolf, at the end of it, and an extra sound sleep as the reijult ? Come, man, don't be soft ; get ready, and go along with us." " Besides," added the accountant, " 1 don't mean to come back to-night. To-morrow, you know, is a,holi- H f I; ill! llM \:- i 4 rl t iff: ■ i i ' Ji 1^:11 I - SNOW FLAKES AND SUNBEAMS day, so we cnn camp out in the snow, after visiting the traps, — have our supper, and start early in the morning to search for ptarmigan." " Well, I will go," said Hamilton, after this account of the pleasures that were to be expected ; ** I am exceed- ingly anxious to learn to shoot birds on the winjj." '* Bless me ! have you not learned that yet ?" asked the doctor, in affected surprise, as he sauntered out of his bedroom to relight his j)ipe. The various bedrooms in the clerks' house were ranged round the hall, having doors that opened directly into it, 80 that conversation carried on in a loud voide was heard in all the rooms at once, and was not unfrequently sus- tained in elevated tones from different apartments, when the occupants were lounging, as they often did of an evening, in their beds. '' No," said Hamilton, in reply to the doctor's question, " I have not learned yet, although there were a great many grouse in the part of Scotland where I was brought up. But my aunt, with whom I lived, was so fearful of my shooting either myself oi some one else, and had such an aversion to firearms, that I determined to make her mind easy, by promising that I would never use them, so long as I remained under her roof" " Quite right ; very dutiful and proper," said the doctor, with a grave patronising air. " Perhaps you'll fall in with more fox titicks of the same sort as the one you gave chase to this morning," shouted the skipper, from "Wilson's room. " Oh ! there's hundreds of them out there," said the accountant ; " so let's off at once." The trio now proceeded to equip thenwelves for thp k\i-\ mm iiig the noruiug account cxceed- ^ked tlie b of his s ranged /■ into it, as heard ntly sus* ts, when id of an question, a great brought o fearful and had to make ever use le doctor, the same ' shouted said the ^ for thp FflOM TUE FAR NORTH. 233 walk. Their costumes were peculiar, and merit descrip- tion. As they were similar in the chief points, it will suffice to describe that of our friend Harry. On Ills head he wore a fur cap made of otter-skin, with a flap on each side to cover the ears, the frost being so intense in these climates that, without some such pro- tection, they would inevitably freeze and fall off. As the nose is constantly in use for the purposes of respiration, it is always left uncovered to fight with the cold as it best can ; but it is a hard battle, and there is no doubt that, if it were possible, a nasal covering would be extremely pleasant. Indeed, several desperate efforts have been made to construct some sort of nose-bag, but hitherto without success, owing to the uncomfortable fact that the breath issuing from that organ immediately freezes, and converts the covering into a bag of snow or ice, which is not agreeable. Round his neck, Harry wound a thick shawl of such portentous dimensions, that it entirely enveloped the neck and lower part of the face ; thus the entire head was, as it were, eclipsed, the eyes, the nose, and the cheek-bones alone being visible. He then threw on a coat made of deer-skin, so prepared that it bore a slight resemblance to excessively coarse chamois leather. It was somewhat in the form of a long, wide surtout, overlapping very much in front, and confined closely to the figure by means of a scarlet worsted belt instead of buttons, and was ornamented round the foot by a number of cuts, which produced a fringe of little tails. Being lined with thick flannel, this portion of attire was rather heavy, but extremely necessary. A pair of blue cloth leggins, having a loose flap on the outsida, were next drawn on over the trousers, as an additional protec- m if !iih 234 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS tion to the knees. The feet, besides being portions oi the body that are peculiarly suceptible of cold, had further to contend against tlie chafing of the lines wliich attaxjh them to the snow-shoes, so that special care in their pre- paration for duty was necessary. First were put on a pair of blanketing or dufllo socks, which were merely oblong in form, without sewing or making up of any kind. Tliese were wrapped round the feet, which were next thrust into a pair of made-up socks, of the same material, having ankle pieces ; above these were put another pair, without flaps for the ankles. Over all was drawn a pair of moccasins made of stout deer-skin, similar to that of the coat. Of courae, the elegance of Harry's feet was entirely destroyed, and had he been met in this guise by any of his friends in the " old country," they would infal- libly have come to the conclusion that he was afflicted ^\ith gout. Over his shoulders he slung a powder-horn and shot-pouch, the latter tastefully embroidered with dyed quill work. A pair of deer-skin mittens, having a little bag for the thumb, and a large bag for the fingers, completed his costume. While the three were making ready, with a running accompaniment of grunts and groans at refractory pieces of apparel, the night without became darker, and the snow fell tliicker, so that, when they issued suddenly out of their warm abode, and emerged into the sharp frosty air, wliich blew the snowdrift into their eyes, they felt a momentary desire to give up the project and return to their comfortable quarters. "What a dismal-looking night it is !" said the accountant, as he led the way along the wooden platform towards the sate of the fort. rtions oi d further cli attaxjh heir pro- put on a 'G merely any kind. 7ere next t material, other pair, iVTi a pair to that of 5 feet was is guise by ould infal- la afflicted )wder-horn tiered with I, having a ihe fingers, i rROM THE FAR NORTH. 23/) " Very ! " repUed Hamilton, with an involuntary shudder. " Keep up your heart," said Harry, in a cheerful voice, " you've no notion how your mind will change on that point when you have walked a mile or so and got into a comfortable heat. I must confess, however, that a little moonsliine would be an improvement," he added, ou stumbling, for the third time, off the platform into the deep snow. " It is full moon just now," said the accountant, " and I think the clouds look as if they would break soon. At any rate, I've been at North River so often that I believe I could walk out there blindfold." As he spoke they passed the gate, and diverging to the right, proceeded, as well as the imperfect light permitted, along the footpath that led to the forest. n IT a running Itory pieces •, and the Iddenly out [larp frosty J, they felt return to iLCCOuntant, )'warda the \>i il iN IM ( m mu i^i mi • :•! . 236 SNOWFr.AKKS AND SUNRFAMS CHAPTER XVIII. The walk continaeil ; frozen toes ; an encampment In the snow. Aftefi quitting York Fort, the tliroo friends followed the track loading to the spot where the winter's firewood was cut. Snow was still falling thickly, and it wa.s with some difficulty that the accountant kept in the right direction. The night was excessively dark, while the dense fir forest, through which the narrow road ran, rendered the gloom if possible more intense. When they had proceeded about a mile, their leader suddenly came to a stand. " We must quit the track now," said he, " so get on your snow-shoes as fast as you can." Hitherto they had carried their snow-shoes under their arms, as the beaten track along which they travelled rendered them unnecessary; but now, having to leave the path and pursue the remainder of their journey through deep snow, they availed themselves of those useful machines, by means of which the inhabitants of this part of North America are enabled to journey over many miles of trackless wilderness, with nearly as much ease as a sportsman can traverse the moors in autumn, and that over snow so deep that one hour's walk through it iviihcmt such aids would completely exhaust the stoutest trapper, and advance him only a mile or so on his journey. In other words, to walk without snow-shoes would be utterlv im- f ovr, Dwed the vood waa vas with lie right vhilo the road ran, cir hnidc'j; so get on adcr their travelled leave the yy through ,se useful this part lany miles ease as a that over ithout such apper, and In other litterlv im- FROM TlIK FAR NORTH. 237 posflible, while to walk with them is easy and aj^rceahle. They are not used after the manner of skates, with a Biiding^ but a stepping action, and their sole use is to sup- port the wearer on the top of snow, into whitih, without them, he would sink up to the waist. When we say that they support the weare'r on the top of the snow, of course we do not mean that they literally do not break the surface at all. But the depth to which they sink i.s comparatively trifling, and varies according to thr> state of the snow aad the sejison of the year. In the woods the; sin!: frequenriy about six inches, sometimes more, sometimes less, while on frozen rivei*s, where the snow ia packed solid i,>y the action of the wind, they sink only two or three inches, and sometimes so little as to render it preferable to wi'ic without them altogether. Snow-shoes are made ■". " light strong framework of wood, varying from three > o sL^ feet long by eighteen and twenty inches broad, tapering to a point before and behind, and turning up in front. Dif- ferent tribes of Indians modify the form a little, but in all essential points they are the same. The framework is filled up with a netting of deer-skin threads, which unites lightness with great strength, and permits any snow that may chance to fall upon the netting to pass through it like a sieve. On the present occasion, the snow, having recently fallen, was soft, and the walking, consequently, what is called heavy. " Come on," shouted the accountant, as he came to a stand for the third time within half an hour, to await the coming up of poor Hamilton, who, being rather awkward in snow-shoe walking, even in daylight, found it nearly impossible in the dark. i i ■ \ ^ \h p ^ H-' I 'f i 238 R\OWP'LAKi:S AND SUNBEAMS "Wait a little, please," replied a faint voice in the clLa- tance, " I've got among a quantity of willows, and find it vei-y (lifficnlt to get on. I've been down twice al " The sudd(!n cessation of the voice, and a loud crash aa of breaking branches, proved too clearly that our fiiend liad accomplished his third fall. " There he goes again," exclaimed Harry Somerville, who came up at the moment. " I've lielped him up once already. We'll never get to North River at tlds rate. What is to be done ] " ** Let's see what has become of him this time, however," said the accountant, as he began to retrace his steps. " If I mistake not, he made rather a heavy j)lunge that time, judging from the sound." At that moment the clouds overhead broke, and a moonbeam shot down into the forest, throwing a pale light over the cold scene. A few steps brought Harry and the accountant to the spot whence the sound had proceeded, and a loud startling laugh rang through the night air, aa the latter suddenly beheld poor Hamilton struggling with his arms, head, and shouldei's stuck into the snow, his snow- shoes twisted and sticking with the heels up and awiy, in a sort of rampant confusion, and his gun buried to the locks beside him. Regaining one's perpendicular after a fall in deep snow, when the feet are encumbered by a I>air of long snow-shoes, is by no means an easy thing to accomplish, in consequence of the impossibility of getting hold of anytlung solid, on which to rest the hands. The depth is so gT'eat that the outstretched arms cannot find bottom, and eveiy successive struggle only sinks the un- hapj)y victim deeper down. Should no assistance be near, he will soon beat the snow to a solidity that will enable the clii*- l find it crash aa Lf fiiend merville, I up once :lus rate. lowever," his steps, imgc that :o, and a ng a pale Harry and proceeded, rrht air, aa his snow- and awry, ried to the lar after a cred by a sy thing to of getting ands. The cannot find ts the un- Lce be near, will enable r. t -1 i iHi^ 'h r M 4) MliP THE THIRD FALL ACCOMPLISHED I'l^H '.':;k 111 FROM THE FAR NORTH. 239 i f him to rise, but not in a very enviable or comfortable condition. " Give me a hand, Harry," gasp^(5 Hamilton, as lie managed to twist his head upwards for a moment. " Here you are," cried Harry, holding out his hand and endeavouring to suppress his desire to laugh, " up with you," and in another moment the poor youth wiis upon his legs, with every fold and crevice about his per- son stuffed to repletion with snow. "Come, cheer up." cried the accountant, giving the youth a slap on the back, " there's nothing like experience — the proverb says that it even teaches fools, so you need not despair." Hamilton smiled as he endeavoured to shake off some of his white coating " We'll be all right immediately," added Harry, " I see that the country ahead is more open, so the walking will be easier." " Oh ! I wish that I had not come," said Hamilton, sor- rowfully, " because I am only detaining you. But per- haps I shall do better as we get on. At any rate I cannot go back now, as I could never find the way." " Go back ! of coui-se not," said the accountant, " in a short time we shall get into the old woodcutters' track of last year, and although it's not beaten at all, yet it is pretty level and open, so that we shall get on famously." " Go on, then," sighed Hamilton. " Drive ahejul," laughed Harry, and without fartlu-r delay they resumed their march, which was soon rendered more cheerful as the clouds rolhul away, tlie snow ceased to fall, and the bright, fiill moon poured its rays d«>wD upon their path. ill .■;k I- f, 2^0 SNOWKLAKES AJVD SUNBKAiiS ll;li I m ' .' For a long time they procoedod in silence j the muffled sound of the snow, as it sank beneath their regular foot- stops, b(.'ing the only interruption to the universal stillness around. There is something very solemnising in a scene such as we are now describing. The calm tranquillity of the arctic night ; the pure whiteness of the snowy carpet, which rendered the dark firs inky black by contrast ; the clear, cold, starry sky, tliat glimmered behind the dark clouds, whose heavy masses, now rolling across the moon, partially obscured the landscape, and anon, passing slowly away, let a flood of light doNvii upon the forest, which, penetrating between the thick branches, scattered the Burface of the snow, as it were, with flakes of silver. Sleep hiia often been a])plied as a siuiile to nature in repose, but in this case death seemed moi'e apj)roj)riate. So silent, so cold, so still was the scene, that it tilled the mind with an indeflnable feeling of dread, as if there was some mysterious danger near. Once or twice during their walk the three travellers paused to rest, but they spcjke little, and in subdued voices, as if they feared to break the silenct' of the night. " It is strange," said Harry, in a low tone, as he walked beside Hamilton, " that such a scene as this always makes me think more than usual of home." " And yet it is natural," replied the other, " because it I'eminds us more forcibly than any other that we are in a foreign land — in the lonely wilderness — far away from home." Both Harry and Hamilton had been trained in families whei'e the Almighty was feared and loved ; and where their minds had been early led to reflect vipon the Ci-eator when regarding the works of Lis hand ; their t I !i' FUOM THE FAR NOKTIl. 241 mufilecl ar footr stillnesa a scene lillity of f caii)et, ast ; the :,lie (lark tie moon, ig slowly it, which, tcred the of silver. nature in ipro[)riate. I tilled the here was their icy s}H)ke break the lie, as he ne as this le. because it c are in a iway from ;mg V in families and where u})on the land ; their thoughts, therefore, naturally revorted to anothei home, compared with which, this world Ls indeed a cold, lonely wilderness ; but on such subjects they feared to convei-se, partly from a dread of the ridicule of reckless com- paniona, jjartly from ignora.'if^c of each other's feelings on religious mattei*s, and, although their miuda were busy, their tongues were silent. The gruund over which the greater part of their path lay was a swamp, which, being now frozen, was a beauti- ful white plain, so that their advance was more rapid, until they approached the belt of woodland that skii't3 North River. Here they again encountered the heavy snow, which had been such a source of difficulty to Ha- milton at setting out. He had profited by his former experience, however, and, by the exercise of an excessive degree of caution, managed to scramble through the woods tolerably well, emerging at last, along with his companions, on the bleak margin of what appeared to be the frozen sea. North River, at this place, is several miles broad, and the opposite shore is so low, that the snow causes it to appear but a slight undulation of the frozen bed of the river. Indeed, it would not be distinguishable at all, were it not for the willow bushes and dwarf pines, whose tops, rising above the white garb of winter, indicate that te7ra firnia lies below. " What a cold, desolate-looking place ! " said Hamilton, as the i)arty stood still to recover breath before taking their way over the plain to the spot where the account- ant's traps were set. " It looks much more like the frozen sea than a river." " It can scarcely be called a river at this place," re- ihi %m ^ ■4i ti 8N0WFLAKKS AND SUNBKAAIS niaikod the accountant, '* seeing that the water here- abouts is brackish, and the tides ebb and flow a good way up. In fact, this is the extreme mouth of North River, and if you turn your eyes a little to the right, towards yonder ice-hummock in the plain, you behold the frozen sea itself." " "Where are your traj)? set ? " inquired Harry. " Down in the hollow beliind /on point covered with brushwood." " Oh, we shall soon get to them, then ; come along," cried Harry. Harry was mistaken, however. He had not yet learned by experience the extreme difficulty of judging of distance in the uncertain light of night ; a difficulty that was increa.sed by his ignorance of the locality, and by the gleams of moonshine that shot through the driving clouds, and threw confused, fantastic shadows over the plain. The point which he had at firet supposed was covered with low bushes, and about a hundred yards off, proved to be clad in reality with large bushes and small trees, and lay at a distance of two miles. " T think you have been mistaken in supposing the point so near, Harry," said Hamilton, as he trudged on beside his friend. " A ftxct, evident to the naked eye," replied Harry " How do your feet stand it, eh 1 Beginning to lose bark yet 1 " Hamilton did not feel quite sure. " I think," said he, Boftly, ** that there is a blister under the big toe of my left foot. It feek very })ainful." " If you feel at all uncertain about it, you may rest assured tiiat there is a blister. These things don't ir\ve PROM TJIE FAR NORTH. 213 ■r here- )0(1 way I River, towards le frozen red with 3 along^ not yet iidging of ;ulty that lid by the ng clouds, ;he plain, covered fF, proved all trees, the udged on lOSing d Harry cr to lose o " said he, toe of my may rest llon't irive much pain at fii^st. I'm sorry to tell yoii, my dear f»illow, that you'll be painfully aware of the fact to- morrow. However, don't distress yourself. It's a part of the ex])erience that every one goes through in this country. Besides," said Harry, smiling, " we can send to the fort for medical advice." " Don't bother the poor fellow, and hold your tongue, Harry," said the accountant, who now began to tread more cautiously as he approached the place where the traps were set. " How many traps have you 1 " inquired Harry, in a low tone. " Three," replied the accountant. " Do you know T have a very strange feeling about my heels — or, rather, a want of feeling," said Hamilton, smiling dubiously. " A want of feeling ! what do you mean ? " cried the accountant, stopping suddenly and confronting his young friend. " Oh ! I daresay it's nothing," he exclaimed, looking as if ashamed of having spoken of it, " only I feel exactly as if both my heels were cut off, and I were walking on tip-toe ! " " Say you so ? then right-about wheel. Your heels are frozen, man, and you'll lose them if you don't look sharp." " Frozen !" cried Hamilton, with a look of incredulity. " A y, frozen ; and it's lucky you told me. I've a ])lace up in the woods here, which I call my winter camp, where we can get you put to rights ; but step out ; the longer we are about it, the woi-se for you." Harry Somerville was at first dis[>08ed to think tliat li. m m h '! (I !■', 2i4 SNOWFLAKES AND SUMiEAMS ; ij ! i the accountant jested, but seeing that he turned his back towards his traps, and made for the nearest point of the thick woods, with a stride that betokened thorough sin- cerity, he became anxious too, and followed aa fast as possible. The ])lace to which the accountant led his young frienda was a group of fir trees which grew on a little knoll, tliat rose a few feet above the surrounding level country. At the foot of this hillock, a small rivulet or burn ran in summer, but the only e^ddence of its presence now was the absence of willow bushes all along its covered narrow bed. A level track was thus formed by nature, free from all underwood, and running inland about the distance of a mile, where it was lost in the swamp whence the stream issued. The wooded knoll, or hillock, lay at the mouth of this brook, and, being the only elevated spot in the neighbourhood, besides having the largest trees growing on it, had been selected by the accountant as a convenient place for " camping out " on, when he visited his traj)s in winter, and happened to be either too late, or disinclined, to return home. Moreover, the spreading fir branches afforded an excellent shelter alike from wind and snow in the centre of the clump ; while from the margin was obtained a partial view of the river and the sea beyond. Indeed, from this look-out there was a very fine prospect on clear winter nights of the white landscape, enlivened occasionally by groups of arctic foxes, which might be seen scampering about in sport, and gambolling among the hummocks of ice like young kittens. " Now we shall turn up here," said the accountant, as he walked a short way up the brook before-mentioned. FROM THE FAR NORTH. 245 liis back nt of the 3Ugh sin- is iWst ila lis young )u a little ding level rivulet or LS presence along its formed by iiicr inland lost in tbe [•d knoll, or , being tbe ides having cted by tbe Qcr out" on, pened to be Moreover, [lent sbeltei tbe clump ; view of tbe Alls look-out ter nigbts of by groups of ii\ir about m :s of ice like accountant, aa re-mentioned. and halted in front of what appeared to be aii impenetrable mass of bushes. " We shall have to cut our way, then," said Harry, looking to the right and loft, in the vain hope of dis- covering a ])lace where, the bushes being less dense, they might effect an entrance into the knoll or grove. **Not so. I have taken care to make a passage into my winter camp, although it wius only a whim after all to make a concealed entrance ; seeing that no one ever passes this way, except wolves and foxes, whose noses render the use of their eyes in most cases unnecessary." So saying, tlie accountant turned aside a thick branch, and disclosed a narrow track, into which he entered, followed by his two companions. A few minutes brought them to the centre of the knoll. Here they found a clear space of about twenty feet in diameter, around which tbe trees circled so thickly, that in daylight nothing could be seen but tree stems as far as the eye could penetrate, while overhead the broad flat branches of the firs, with their evergreen verdure, spread out and interlaced so thickly, that very little liglit pene- trated into the space below. Of course at night, even in moonlight, the place was pitch dark. Into this retreat the accountant led his companions, and, bidding them stand still for a minute lest they should tumble into the fireplace, he proceeded to strike a light. Tliose who have never travelled in the wild parts of this world can form but a faint conception of the extraordinary and sudden ciiange that is produced, not only in the scene, but in the mind of the beholder, when a blazing fire is lighted in a dark night. Before the fire is kindled, and you btantl, perhaps, (as Harry and his friend did on the ill iUl .J:-1 r^i 246 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS t! ')■ ! li ■f I ' i ^ pr<\s(>iit occasion) shivering in the coM, the heart ainks, and 8a(l gloomy thoughts arise, while your eye endeavoui's to pierce the thick darkness, which, if it succeed in doing so. only adds to the effect by disclosing the pallid snow, the cold, chilling beams of the moon, the wide vistas of savage scenery, the awe-inspiring solitudes that tell of your isolated condition, or stir up sad memori(!S of other and far distant scenes. But the moment the first spark of fii-c souls a fitful gleam of light upwards, these thoughts and feelings take wing and vanish. The indistinct scen- ery is rendered utterly invisible by the red light, wliieh attracts and rivets the eye as if by a species of fascination. The deep shadows of the woods immediately around you grow deeper and blacker as the flames leap and sparkle u})\vards, causing the stems of the surrounding trees, and the foliatje of the overhanjjinn: branches, to stand out in bold relief, bathed in a iniddy glow, which converts the forest chamber into a snug home-like place, and fills the mind with agreeable, home-like feelings and meditations. It seems as if the sj)irit, in the one case, were set loose and etherealised to enable it to spread itself over the plains of cold, cheerless, illimitable space, and left to dwell upon objects too wide to grasp, too indistinct to comprehend ; — while, in the other, it is recalled and concentrated upon matters circumscribed and congenial, things of which it has long been cognisant, and which it can appreciate and enjoy without the effort of a thought. Some such thoughts and feelings passed rapidly thrc ugh the minds of Harry and Hamilton, while the accountant struck a light and kindled a roaring fiie of logs, which he had cut and arranged there on a previous occasion. Tn the middle of the s])ace thus brilliantly illuminated, fl FROM THE FAR NORTH. 217 nks, and ,voui'H to doing so. now, the of savage of your )ther and spark of thoughts inct sccn- ht, which iscination. round you ud sparkle trees, and and out in inverts the lid fills the editations. |e set loose r the plains dwell upon )rehead ; — ■ rated upon >f which it ireciate and |dly thrcugh accountant logs, which IS occasion. illnniinated, the snow had hoon clonrod away till tlio niosa was un- covered, thus leaving a hole of ahout ten feet in diameter. As the snow was quite four feet deei», the hole wjus .sur- rounded with a })ure white wall, whoso height was furtlKT increased by the niiusses, thrown out in the process of digging, to a height of nearly six feet. At one end of this space was the large fire which had just hem kindled, and which, owing to the intense cold, only melted a very little of the snow in its immediate neighbourliood. At the other end lay a mass of flat pine branches, which were piled up so thickly as to form a ])leiisant elastic couch, the upper end being slightly raised .so as to form a kind of bolster, while the lower extended almost into the fire. Indeed, the branches at the extremity were burnt quite brown, and some of them charred. Beside the bolster i.iv a small wooden box, a round tin kettle, an iron tea-kettle, two tin mugs, a hatchet, and a large bundle tied up in a green blanket. There were thus, as it were, two apart- ments, one within the other ; namely the outer one, whose walls were formed of tree-stems and thick darkness, and the ceiling of green boughs ; and then the inner one with walls of snow, that sparkled in the firoiiglit as if set with pre- cious stones, and a carpet of evergreen branches. Within this latter our three friends were soon actively employed. Poor Hamilton's moccasins were speedily re- moved, and his friends, going down on their knees, began to rub his feet with a degree of energy that induced him to beg for mercy. "Mercy !" exclaimed the accountant, without pausing for an instant, " faith, it's little mercy there would be in stopping just now. Rub away, Harry. Don't give ir. They're coming right at ia.st. miii n jf » '-irfl ill 1 1 1 r^^ 248 RNOWFLAKF.S AND SUNBEAMS i ^4m A tier a vory sovoro ruLMng, tlio lioels hotpin to sliew BVinptoniH of rotiiniini; vitality. Tlioy woro tlu!n wrapped np in the fnlda of a tliii-k l)iii!ik<>y," said tlie accountant, a« lie sat down to enjoy a j)ipean(l rest liiniself on a blanket, which, along with the one wrapped ronnd Hamilton's feet, had hovn extracted from the gi'een bundle before mentioned — " Now, my boy, you'll have to enjoy yourself here as you best can for an hour or two, while Ilariy and I visit the traj)s. Would you like supper before we go, or shall we have it on our return ? " " Oh, ni wait for it by all means till you return. 1 don't feel a bit hungry just now, and it will be much more cheerful to have it after all vour work is over. Tiesides, I feel my feet too ])ainful to enjoy it just now." " My poor fellow," said Harry, whose heart smote; him for having been disposed at first to treat the thing lightly, ** I'm really sony for you. Would you not like me to stay with you 1 " " V>y no means," replied Hamilton, quickly. " You can do nothing more for me, Harry; and I should be very Boriy if you missed seeing the traps." "Oh, never mind the traps. I've seen traps, and set them too, fifty times before now. I'll stop with you, old boy, I will ;" said Harry, doggedly, while he made arrange- ments to settle down for the evening. " Well, if 1/ou won't go, I will," said Hamilton, coolly, as he unwound the blanket from his feet and began to pull on his socks. " Bravo, my lad ! " exclaimed the accountant, patting to shew itVie'u'utly ^t getting t down to ilong with extracted ,v, my boy, can for an ,. Would ) it on onr retnrn. 1 II V)0 nvicli rk is over, just now." ) smote bim ing lightly, like me to FROM THE FAR NORTH. 2i9 him approvingly on the hack ; " I didn't think yon harl half so much j)liiek in yon. ]5nt it won't do, old fellow Yon 're in ///// castle just now, and nnist obey ordei-s. You couMn't walk half a mile for yoni* lift^ ; so just be ple.med to j)nll olf your socks again. Jjesides, 1 want ITarry to help me to carry \ip my foxes, if there are any ; so get ready, sirrah !" " Ay, ay, captain," cried ITarry, with a laugh, while he sprang up and put on his snow-shoes. " You needn't bring your gun," said the .accountant, shaking the ashes from his pipe as he prepared to depart; " but you may as well shove that axe into your belt ; you may want it. Now, mind, don't roa.st your feet," lie added, turning to Hamilton. *' Adieu ! " cried Hariy, with a nod and a smile, as ho turned to go. " Take care the l)ears don't find you out." " No fear ; good bye, Harry," replied Hamilton, as his two friends disaj^]»eared in the wood and left him to hm solitary meditations. i! .1 > ! (I Lly. " Yon Lild be very lips, and set jith you, old lade arrangc- lilton, coolly, [nd began to III iint, patting ) fr f ' . 1 250 SNO\VFLA.KES AND aTTVRir.AMf^ CHAPTER XIX. ShO'Wb how the iiccoimtant and Ilarrj set their traps, and what came of Jt. i I ' iW k ■I ' n TuE moon was still up, and the sky less overcast, ■when our amateur tra])pcrs quitted the encampment, and, des- cending to the mouth of the little brook, took their way over North River in the direction of the accountant's tra})s. l>(ung somewhat fatigued both in mind and body by the unusual exertions of tlie night, neither of them spoke lOr some time, but continued to walk in silence, contempla- tively gazing at their long shadows. " Did you ever traj) a fox, Harry?" said the account- ant, at length. " Yes, I used to set traps at Red River ; but the foxes there are not numerous, ?.nd are so closely watched by the dogs, that they have become suspicious. I caught but ew. " Then you know how to set a crap ? " " Oil, yes ! I've set both steel and snow traps often. You've heard of old Labonte, who used to carry one of the winter packets from Red River until within a few years bad ? " " Yes, I've heard of him : his name is in my ledger, at lea^it if you mean. Pierre Labonte, wlio came down last fidl v^'-th the brigade." " The same-. Well, he was a great frind of mine. His little cabin lay about two miles fvom Fort Garry, and \i J 1. FKO.U THF. FAR NORTH. 25] lamt of !t. ist, when and, clcs- tlieir way int's traps. :)dy by the 1 spoke lOr contempla- le account- tt tlie foxes ivatclied by caiiL'bt b\it Itraps often. |arry one of Lthin a few ly ledger, at down last mine. His Garry, and after work was over in tlio office, 1 used to go down to sit and chat with hiiu by tlie fire ; and many a time 1 have sat up half the niglit listoning to him as lie recounted lii? adventures. Tlie old man never tired of relating them, and of smoking twist tt)bacco. Among otlier things, he set my mind u])on trapping, by giving me an account of an expedition lie inad*?, when quite a youth, to the Ivocky IMonntains ; so [ got him to go into the woods and teach me how to s(!t traps and snares, and 1 flatter myscif he found me an apt pupil." "Humph!" ejaculated the accountant; "I have no doubt you do Jlattcr your&(^lf. But here we are. The traps are just beyond that mound ; so look out, and don't stick your feet into them." " Hist ! " exclaimed Harry, laying his hand suddenly on his companion's arm. " Do you see thatV pointing towards the place where the traps were said to be. " You have sharp eyes, younker ; I do see it, now that you point it out. It's a Ibx, and caught, too, as I'm a scrivener." " You're in luck, to-night," exclaimed Harry, eagerly. " It's a silvei' fox. I see the white tip on its tail." " Nonsense," ciied the accountant, hastening forward j " but we'll soon settle the point." Harry proved to be right. On reaching the spot the^ found a beautiful black fox, caught by the fore leg in a steel trap, and giizing at them with a look of terror. The skin of the silver fox — so called from a sliyht s[irinkling of pure white hairs covering its otheinvise jet black body — is the most valuable fur obtained by the fur-trad(ira, and fetch(\s an enormous price in the British market — so nnicli as thirty pounds sterling being fi'P 17 # U 9^9 RNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS '■^i I If* / r t \i i •'. ) qucntly obtained for a single skin. The foxes varj' in colour from jet l^lack, wliich is the most valuable, to u liuilit silvery hue, and are hailed as great prizes by the Indians and traj»pers when they are so fortunate Ub to catch them. They are not numerous, however, and being exceedingly wary and suspicious, are diflicnlt to catch. It may be sui)posed, therefore, that our friend the accountant ran to secure his prize with some eagerness. *' N(nv then, my l)eauty, (h)n't shrink," he said, as the poor fox backed, at his approach, as far as the chain which fastened the ti'ap to a log of wood would permit ; and then, standing at bav, shewed a formidable row of teeth. That grin was its last ; another moment, and the handle of the accountant's axe stretched it lifeless on the snow. " Isn't it a beauty I" cried he, surveying the animal with a look of triumphant })leasure : and then feeling as if he had compromised his dignity a little l>y betraying so nuu-h gk'C, he added, " Ihit come now, Harry, we must see to the other traps. It's getting late." Tiie others were soon visited ; but no more foxes were cauirht. However, the accountant set them both oft' to see that all was right; nnd then re-adjusting (Mie hin.self, told Harry to set the other, in order to clear himself of the charge of boasting. Harry, nothing loath, went down on his knees to do so. The steel trap used tor catching foxes is of exactly the same form as the ordinary rat-trap, with this difference that it has two springs instead of one, is considerably larger, and has no teeth, as those latter vrould oidy tend to spoil the skin. Owing to the strength (T the springs s vary lu able, to a ;es by tbe Kite ub to ami being catcb. Tt accountant said, as tbe ; tbe cbain lid permit ; vble row of :nt, and tbe -less on tbe animal witb .■ as if be ino- so nuicb 4 see to tbe flaxes were itb oft" to see in. self, told mself of tbe ]^iK'es to do ,f exactly tbe lis difference considerably lid only tend r tlie springs ntOM TnE FAR NOKTII. 2:>3 ft pretty strong efTort is required to set tbe trap, and clumsy fellows frequently catcb tlie tails of tlieir coats or tbe ends of tbeir bolts, and, not nnfrequently, tbe ends of tbeir fingers, in tbeir awkwai'd attempts. Having set it witbout any of tbe above untoward accidents occurring, FTarry placed it gimtly on a bole wbicb be bad previously scraped ; placing it in sucb a manner tbat tbe jaws and [date, or trigger, were a liairsbreadtb boLjw tbe level of tbe snow. After tins be spread over it a very tbin sbeet of paper, observing as be did so tbat bay or grass was preferable; but, iis tbere was none at band, paper would do. Over tbis be spriidcled snow very ligbtly, until every vestige of tbe traj) w;is concealed from view, and tbe wliole was made quite level witb tbe surrounding plain, so tliat even tbe accountant bimself, after be bad once removed bis eyes from it, could not tell wbe)-e it lay. Some cbi})S of a frozen ptarmigan were tben scattered around tbe s})ot, and a })iece of wood left to mark its wbereabouts. Tbe bait is always scattered round and not on tbe trap, as tbe fox, in running from one piece to anotber, is almost certain to set bis foot on it, and so get caugbt by tbe leg ; wbereas, were tbe bait placed vpon tlie trap, tlie fox would be a])t to get caugbt wbile in tbe act of eating, by tbe snout, wbicb, being wedgcidike in form, is erusily dragged out of its gripe. " Now tben, wbat say you to going fartber out on tbe river, and making a snow trap for wbite foxes ?" said tbe accountant. " We sball still liave time to do so before tbe moon sets." ** Agreed," cried Ilan-v, " Come aloni;," Witbout furtber parley, tbey left tbe spot ami stretobed uut towards tbe sea. 2ni SNOWFLAKES AND SUXHEAMS n ■. i i : P; 'i'lio snow on the river was quite liard on itu surface, so tliat siioAV-sliocs being unnecessary, tliey carried them over tlu.'ir shoulders, and advanced nuicli more rapidly. It is true that their road was a good deal broken, and jagged pieces of ice protruded their sharp corners so as to render a little attention necessary in walking; but one or two severe bumps on their toes made our friends sensitively alive to these minor dangers of the way. "There goes a pack of them!" exclaimed Harry, as a troo[) of white foxes s(Mm[»cred past, gambolling as they went, and, coming suddenly to a halt at a short distance, wheeled about and sat down on their haunches, api)arently resolved to have a jj-ood look at the straiiircrs who dared to venture into their wild domain. "Oh! they are the most stupid brutes alive," said the accountant, as he regarded the pack with a look of con- tem[)t. " I've seen mho of them sit down and look at me while I set a trap right before his eyes; and I had not got a hundred yards from the spot when a yell infoi'med me that the gentleman's curiosity had led him to i)ut his foot riii'ht into it." V.' "Indeed!" exclaimed JIarry. "1 had no idea that they were so tame. Certainly no other kind of fox would do that." " Xo, that's certain. Ihit these fellows have done it to nu' again and again. L shouldn't wonder if we got one to- night in the very same way. Tm sure, by the look of these rascals, that they would do anything of a reckless, stu}»id nature Just now." " liad we not better make our tiap here, then? There is a point, not tifty yards off, witii trees on it large enough for our purpose." f m rfacc, ao em over r. It is 1 jagged I) render 3 oY two vely alive irry, as a ; as they distance, ipparently vho dared ," said the jk of con- .H)k at n\e ad not g*>t formed me lut his foot idea that fox woidd done it to fcot one to- )(^k of these less, stupid ni 1 'Hiere r^e enough FROM THE FAR NOUTII. '165 " Ya", it will do very well here ; now, tlien, to work. Go to the wood, Harry, and fetch a log or two, while 1 cut out the slabs." So saying, the accountant drew the axe which he always carried in his belt ; and, while Harry entered the wood and began to hew oft' the branch of a tree, he proceeded, as he had said, to " cut out the slabs." Witli the point of his knife he first of all marked out an oblong in the snow, then cut down tliree or four inches with the axe, and, putting the handle under the cut, after the manner of a lever, detached a thick solid slab of about three inches thick, which, although not so hard tus ice, was quite hard enough for the pur})ose for which it was intended. He then cut two similar slabs, and a smaller one, the same in thickness and breadth, but only hiili* the lengtli. Having accomplished this, he '-ised himself to rest a little, and observed that Harry ap- proached, staggering under a load of wood, and that the foxes wero still sitting on their haunches, gazing at him with a look of deep interest. " If I only had my gun here ! " tliought ho. But not having it, he merely shook his fist at them, stooped down again and resumed his work. With Ifariy's assistance the slabs were placed in sucli a way as to form a sort of box or house, having one end of it open. This was fur- ther plastered with soft snow at the joinin-:s, and banked u{) in such a way that no animal could break into it easily, — at leas*^ sucli an attempt would be so difficult as to make an entrance into the interior V)y the open side mucl) more probable. When this was finished, they took the logs that Harry had cut. and carried v.dth so much diffi- culty from the wood, and began to lop off the smaller branches and twigs. One large log was placed across tiif U^\ ;iiiyi^a»t»g&. ImBBBI iji! hi \>\i ' T' 'Jl HI III' I I !, Hi i5| .^i i. 25b SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS Opening of iho tni}), while tliu othei's wore }»ilcd od .ine end of it so as to ]»rcss it down with their wt'iglit. Tlireo small pieces of stick were now ])repared ; two of them beiiiii abcjut halt a f(X)t loiiic, and the other ahout a foot. On the hjiig piece of stick the breast of a {itarmi- gan was fixed as a bait, and two notches cut, the; one at the end of it, the other about four or five inches further down. All was now ready to set the trap. "liaise the log now while I place the trigger," said Harry, kneeling down in front of the door, while tho accountant, as directed, lifted up the log on which the others lay st) as to alhjw liis coni})anion to introduce the bait-stick, in such a manner as to support it, while the slightest pull on the bait would set the stick with tlic notches free, and tlius permit the log to fall on the back of the fox, whose effort to reach the bait would necessarily place him under it. While llariy was thus engaged, the accountant stood up and looked towards the foxes. They had ap])roached so near in their curiosity, that he was induced to tlirow his axe frantically at the foremost of the pack. This set them galloping off, but they soon halted and sat down as before. "What aggravating brutes they are, to be sure!" said Harry, with a laugh, ixa his companion returned with tho hatchet. " Humj)]i ! yes, but we'll be upsides with them yet Come idong into the wood, and I wager that in ten minutes we .shall have one." They immediately hiu'ried towards the wood, but had not walked fifty paces, wlien they were startled by a loud yell behind them. , oil >'»ne \vt'ight. ; two of ■ 111 )o lit a L ptiirmi- u! one at js further ;;or, said while tlio which the oduce the wliile tlie : with tlic 1 the back necessarily taut stood ipj)roached I U) throw This set it down aa 3\ire!" said d with the them yet. lat in ten )d, but had d by a loud FllU.M Tin: l-'AU NOUTll. 0^7 " Dear me!" exchiiincd the accountant, while ho and Harry turned round with a start. " It cannot surely be possible that they have gone in already." A loud howl fol- lowed the remark, and the whole pack tied over the plain like snowdrift and disap})eared. " Ah ! that's a pity, souicthiiig must have scared them, to make them take wing like that. However, we'll get one to-morrow for certain; so come along, lad, let us make for the cam})." " Not so fast," rei)lied the other ; " if you luubi't ])ored over the big ledger till you were blind, you would see that there is one prisoner already.*' This proved to be the case. On returning t(j the spot they found an arctic fox in his last gasp, lying ilat on tlie Biiow, with the heavy log across his back, wliich seemeil to be broken. A slight tap on the snout witli the account- ant's deadly axe-handle completed his destruction. "We're in luck tonight," cried Harry, as lie kneeled again to re-set the tra]). " Uut after all, these white brutes are worth very little ; I fancy a hundred of their skins would iKjt be worth the black one you got first." " Be quick, Harry. The moon is almost down, and poor Hamilton will think that the polar bears have got hold of us." "All right! now then, st-;^ out," and, glancing once more at the trap to see that all was properly arranged, the two friends once more turned their faces homewards, and travelled over the snow with rapid strides. The moon liad just set, leaving the desolate scene in deep gloom, so that they could scarcely find their wav to die [\yvv<.\. ; and, wlien they did at bust reach its shelter, ;•( ; .( !■.. % i ! I 'I hi 11 ' ,!.. t' U'l| il? t I. i) I ^1 '>r, r>s SNOWFLAKKS AND SUNBFAMS the niglit became so inteuscly dark that they had almoKi to grope tlicir way, and would certainly have lost it alto' gether were it not for the accountant's thorough know- lodge of the locality. To add to their discomfort, as they stumbled on, snow bop^an to fall; and, ere long, a pretty steady breeze of wind droAe it shar})ly in their faces. However, this mattered but little, as they penetrated decj)er in among the trees, wliich proved a comi)lete shel- ter both from wind and snow. An hour's march brought them to the mouth of the brook, although half that time would have been sufficient had it been daylight, and, a few minutes later, they had the satisfaction of hearing Hamilton's voice hailing them a^ they pushed aside the bushes, and s}>rang into the cheerful light of their en- campment. " Hurrah ! " shouted Harry, as he leapt into the space before the fire, and flung the two foxes at Hamilton's feet. " What do you think of i/tat, old fellow 1 How are the heels ? llather sore ? eh ! Now for the kettle. * Polly, put the kettle on, we'll all have ' My eye ! where's the kettle, Hamilton ? Have you eaten it 1 " "If you compose yourself a little, Harry, and look at the fire, you'll see it boiling there." " ^lan, A\ hat a chap you are for making unnecessary speeches. Couldn't you tell me to look at the fire, without the preliminary piece of advice to compose myself? Be- sides, you talk nonsense, for I'm composed already, of blood, bones, flesh, sinews, fat, and " " Humbug," interrupted th? accountant. " Lend a hand to get supper, you young goose ! " "And so," continued Harry, not noticing the internijv tion, " I cannot be expected, nor is it necessary, to com- lI alniofii b it alto- h know , as tliey a pretty iir faces, metratcd lete sliel- i brought that time t, and, a : hearing aside the their en- the space ton's feet. ^ are the ■^olly, put Here's the look at necessary ■, without ^elt^? Be- ready, of id a hand internn>* ^, to com- \ m FROM THE FAR NORTH. 259 pose myself over again. But, to be serious." he added, " it was very Idnd and considerate of you, Hammy, to i)ut on the kettle, when your heels were in a manner upper- most." " Oh ! it was nothing at all ; my heels are much better, tliank you, and it kept me from wearying." " Poor fellow," said the accountant, while he busied liimsclf in preparing their evening meal, " you must be quite ravenous by tliis tiine, at least / am, which is the same tiling." Suppp" y\s ' oon ready. It consisted of a large kettle of tea, a lui.. > of pemican, a handful of broken bi-scuit and three ptarmigan; all of which were produced from tlie small wooden box which the accountant was wont to call his camp-larder. The ptarmigan had been shot two weeks before, and carefully laid up for future use, the intense frost being a sufficient guarantee for their preservation for many months, had that been desired. It would have done you good, reader, (supposing you to be possessed of sympathetic feelings) to have witnessed those three nor'westers enjoying their supper in the suo^v}' camp. The fire had been replenished with logs, till it roared and crackled again, as if it were endued with a vicious spirit, and wished to set the very snow in flames. The walls shone like alabaster studded with diamonds, while the green boughs overhead and the stems around were of a deep red colour in the light of the fierce blaze. Tlie tea-kettle hissed, fumed, and boiled over into the fire. A mass of pemican simmered in the lid in front of it. Three pannikins of tea reposed on the green branches, their refreshing contents sending up little clouds of steam, while the ptarmigan, now split up, skewered^ and roasted. Ill 11 k 260 RNOWFLAKES AND SUNIJEAMS I 1 were being heartily devoured by our tlnee hungry friends. The })hi{isurc.s that fall to the lot of man are transient. Doubtless they are numerous and oft recurring, — .still they are transient, and so — supper came to an end. "Now for a pipe," said the accountant, dis[>osing his limbs at full longtli on a green blanket. "O thou precious weed, wliat should we do without thee !" '* Smoke tea, to be sure," answered Harry. " Ah ! true, it is possible to exist on a pipe of tea- leaves for a time, but onli/ for a time. I tried it myself once, in dc's[)eration, when I ran short of tobacco on a journey, and found it execrable, but better than nothing." " rity we can't join you in that," remarked Harry. " True, but perha})S since you cannot pipe, it might prove an agreeable diversilication to dance." "Thank you, I'd rather not," said Harry ; "and as for Hamilton, I'm convinced that his mind is made up on the subji'ct. How go the heels now 1 " "TJiaiik you, pretty well," he replied, reclining his head on the pine branches, and extending his smitten members towards the fir j. " I think they will be quite well in tlie morning." " It is a curious thing," remarked the accountant, in a soliloquising tone, " that soft fellows never smoke ! " " I beg your pardon," said Harry ; " I've often seen hot loaves smoke, and they're soft enough fellows, in all conscience ! " " Ah ! " sisjrhed the accountant, " that reminds me of poor Peterkin, who was so soft that he went by the name of * Butter.' Did you ever hear of what he ilid the sum- mer before last witli an Indian's headi" .'J iJf hungry vansieut. still tlioy his limbs precious )e of tea- it myself icco on a nothing." id lliirry. ight prove ind as for up on the luing his s smitten be quito FROM THE FAR NORTH. 2Ci " No, never ; what was it ]" " ill tell you the stoiy," re[)lie(-l the accountant, drawing a few vigorous whili's of smoke, to prevent his pi[)e going out while he si)oke. As the story in cpiestion, however, depicts a new phiwe uf society ui the woods, it deserves a chapter to itrtelf. itant, in a le ! n seen hot ,vs, in all nds m€ of f the name I the sum- IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V /. .// <<, 4> #? ^ ///,, S % p' m. '^ fc 1.0 I.I 1.25 j5 '== 1^ 1.4 M IIIM II™ 1.6 ^ 'm /I ^/: '^A c^l ■'^^.^V i-^... ^ / /A Photogiaphic Sciences Corporation €S m V \\ ^9) V ^/-^^ \ '^O' #^ % n? '^^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 -,y ^^ fe 21) -J a>0\VFLAKJia iVSl) SUMltiAMP I < i ClIAPTEll XX. riie accdUiitaiit's .■'tnry. M; ii II ■i '" j»il * -f ?' Spkincj had passed away ; and York Fort was filled with all the bustle and activity of summer. Brigades came pouring in upon us with furs from the interior, and as every boat brought a C. T, or a clerk, our mess-table began to overflow. " You've not seen the summer mess-room GUed vet, Hamilton. That's a treat in store for you." " It was pretty full last autumn, I think," suggested Hamilton, " at the time I arrived from England." " Full ! why, man, it was getting to feel quite lonely at that time. I've seen more than fifty sit down to table there, and it was worth going fifty miles to hear the row they kicked up. Telling stories without end (and some- times without foundation) about their wild doings in the interior, where every man-jack of them having t^pent at least eight months almost in perfect solitude, they hadn't had a chance of letting their tongues go till they came down here. But to proceed. When the ship came out iu the fall, she brought a batch of new clerks, and among them was this miserable chap Peterkin, whom we soon nicknamed Butter. He wtis the sc^^test fellow I ever knew, (fai* woi*se than you, Hamilton), and he hadn't been here a week before the wild blades from the interior, who I waft tilled Brigades ,erior, ami mess-table «n 1 -1- iiieu vet, suggested id." ,e lonely at n\ to table ar the row (and some- )ings in the \cf spent at they hadn't they came p came out and among im we soon ow I ever hadn't been nterior, who FROM THE FAR \ORTIL Si") 3 w^ere bursting with fim and mischief, began to play olT all kinds of practical jokes upon him. The very first day he sat down at the racss-table, our worthy governor (wlio, \ou are aware, detests practical jokes) played him a trick, quite unintentionally, which raised a laugh against hi in for many a day. You know that old j\Ir llogan is rather absent at times ; well, the first day that Petorkin came to mess (it was breakfast), the old governor asked him, in a patronising sort of way, to sit at his right hand. Acconl- ingly, down he sat, and having never, I fancy, been away from his mother's apron-string before, he seemed to fed very uncomfortable, especially as he was regarded as a sort of novelty. The first thing he did was to capsize his plate into his lap, whicli set the youngsters at the lower end of the table into suppressed fits of laughter. How- ever, lie was eating the leg of a dry grouse at the time, so it didn't make much of a mess. " ' Try some fish, Peterkin,' said Mr Rogan, kindly, seeing that the youth was ill at case. ' That old grouse is tough enough to break your knife.' " ' A very rough passage,' replied the youngster, whose mind was quite confused by hearing the captain of the ship, who sat next to him, giving to his next neighbour a grnphic account of the voyage in a very loud key — ' 1 mean, if you please, no, thank you,' he stammered, endea- vouring to correct himself. " 'Ah ! a cup of tea, perhai)s. Here, Andei-son,' (turning to the butler) ' a cup of tea to IMr Peterkin.' " The butler obeyed the order. " ' And, here, fill my cup,' said old Rogan, interrupt- ing himself in an earnest conversation, into which lie had plunged with the gentleman on Ids left hand. As he I »■ V n : ■ i N ? f ' 3«"* 2f)4 H.VOWFLAKES AVD SUN15EAMS ^ . S>: ir 1,1. RTiid this, he lifted his cup to empty the slops, but with- out paying attention to what he was doing. As luck would have it, the slop-biisin was not at hand, and l\terkin's cup was, so he emptied it innocently into that. Ptiterkin hadn't courage to arrest his hand ; and wlien the deed was done, he looked timidly round to see if thn action had been observed. Nearly half the table had seeji it, but they pretended ignorance of the thing so well, that he thought no one had observed, and so went quietly on with his breakfast, and drank the tea ! But T am wandering from my story. Well, about this time there was a young Indian who shot himself accidentally in the woods, and was brought to the fort to see if anv- thing could be done for him. The doctor examined his wound, and found that the ball had pa.ssed through the upper part of his right arm, and the middle of his right thigh, breaking the bone of the latter in its passage. It was an extraordinary shot for a man to put into himself, for it would have been next to impossible even for another man to have done it, unless the Indian had been creeping on all fours. When he was able to speak, how- ever, he explained the mystery. While running through a rough part of the wood after a wounded bird, he stumbled, and feU on all fours. The gun, which he was carrying over his shoulder, holding it, as the Indians usually do, by the muzzle, flcAv forward, and turned right round as he fell, so that the motith of it was pre- sented towards him. Striking against the stem of a tree, it exploded, and shot him through the arm and leg, as described, ere he had time to rise. A comrade carried him to liis lodge, and his wife brought him in a canoe to the fort. For tliree or four days the doctor had hopes of FROM THE FAR NORTH. 2G5 hfrn, ))ut at last he began to sink, and died on the sixth day after his arrival. His wife, and one or two friends, buried him in our graveyard, which lies, as you know, on that lonely-looking point just below the powder maga- zine. For several months previous to this, our wortliy doctor had been making strenuous efforts to get an Indian skull to send home to one of his medical friends, but without success. The Indians could not be prevailed upon to cut off the head of one of their dead countrymen for love or money, and the doctor had a dislike to the idea (I suppose) of killing one for himself ; but now, liere was a golden opportunity. The Indian was buried near to the fort, and his relatives had gone away to their tents again. What wiis to prevent his being dug up ? The doctor brooded over the thing for one hour and a half (being exactly the length of time required to smoke out his large Turkey pipe), and then saunter€»d in+<5 Wilson's room. Wilson was busy, as usual, at some of his mechanical contrivances. "Thrusting his hands deep into his breeches -nocket-a, and seating himself on an old sea-chest, he began — " ' I say, Wilson, will you do me a favour V " ' That depends entirely on what the favour is,' he replied, without raising his head from his work. " ' I want you to help me to cut off an Indian's head !' " ' Then I ivonH do you the favour ; but, pray, don't humbug me just now, I'm busy.' " ' No; but I'm serious, and I can't get it done without help, and I knoAv you're an obliging fellow. Besides, the savage is dead, and has no manner of use for his head now.' " Wilson turned round with a look of intellijrence or hp^rinj; this. I . I i ii i }i fj , . ( ^ ill I I !; f { ..hi I I! 1 i\ II i i I i !li ! 2^6 SXOWFI.AKKS AND SUNIJKAMS " * Ha !' ho exclaimed, ' I see what you're up to , but I don't half like it. In the first place, his friends would be terribly cut up if thoy heard of it ; and then, I've no sort of aptitude for the work oi a resurrectionist ; and then, if it got wind, we should never hear the laat oi it ; and then ' " ' And then,' interrupted the doctor, ' it would be adding to the light of medical science, you unaspiring monster,' " * A light,' retorted Wilson, ' which, in passing through some members of the medical profession, is totally absorbed, and reproduced in the shape of impenetrable darkness.' " ' Now, don't object, my dear fellow ; you knoiv you're going to do it, so don't coquette with me, but agree at once.' " ' Well, I consent, upon one condition.' "'And v/hat is that?' " ' That you do not play any practical jokes on me with the head when you have got it.' " ' Agi'eed !' cried the doctor, laugliing ; ' I give you my word of honour. Now, he has been buried three days already, so we must set about it at once. Fortunately the graveyard is composed of a sandy soil, so he'll keep for some time yet.' " The two worthies then entered into a deep consultation as to how they were to set about this deed of darkness. It was arranged that Wilson should take his gun, and sally forth a little before dark, as if he were bent on an hour's sport, and, not forgetting liis game-bag, proceed to the graveyard, where the doctor engaged to meet him with a couple of spades and a dark lantern. Accordingly; FKOM TEIK FAR NOHTH. 26^ i • I f 1 ' e up i<> , is friends and then, •ectionist ; the laat oi would he unaspiring n passing I, is totally ipenetrahle •now you're it agree at on me with ;ive you my three days imately the 11 keep for onsultation )f darkness. s gun, and 3ent on an proceed to meet him cco^dingily, next cvi t, . 5'! Ik' * r ! 1 •i I 268 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAM8 \r ' I: ! !: f ' m commenced to climb the opposite bank, starting at everj twig that 8napj)ed under his fi^et. On roacliing the level ground again, he breathed a little more freely, and hurried forward with more speed than caution. Suddenly he came into violent contact with a figure, which uttered a lo\ul growl as Wilson reeled backwards. " ' Back, you monster,' he cried, with a hysterical yell, * or I'll blow your brains out.' " ' It's little good that would do ye,' cried the doctor, as he camo forward; 'why, you stupid, what did you take me for ? You've nearly knocked out my brains as it is,' and the doctor rubbed his forehead iiiefully. " *0h ! it's i/ou, doctor,' said Wilson, feeling as if a ton weight had been lifted off his heart ; * I verily thought it was the ghost of the j/oor fellow we're going to disturb. I do think you had better give it uj). Mischief will come of it, you'll see.' " * Nonsense,' cried the doctor, * don't be a goose, but let's to work at once. Why, I've got half the thing dug up already.' So saying, he led the way to the grave, in which there was a large opening. Setting tlie lantern down bj'^ the side of it, the two seized their spades and began to dig as if in earnest. " The fact is that the doctor was nearly as frightened aa Wilson, and he afterwards confessed to me that it was an immense relief to 1dm sviien he heard him foil down the bank of the creek, and knew by the growl he gave that it was he. " In about half an hour the doctor's spade struck upon the coffin lid, which gave forth a hollow sound. " * Now then, we're about done with it,' said he, stand- ing up to wipe away the perspiration that trickled down at everj the level (I liurried y he came ed a ]o\\d ii-ical yell, doctor, as )u take nw it is,' and as if a ton thought it to disturb. if will come goose, but thing dug e grave, in le lantern spades and •iohtenedaa that it was 1 down the e srave that stnick upon 1. d he, stand- ickled dowTJ FUOM TUE FAU NOUTU. 2G9 his fa<;o. ' Take the axe and force up the lid, it's oidy fixed with common nails, while I ' He did not finish the sentence, but drew a large scalpiiig-knife from a shoatli which liung at his belt. "Wilson shuddercil and obeyed. A crood wrench caused the lid to start, and while he held it partially (liod Peterkin. " ' Well,' continued the skipper, ' the doctor, who is fond of experiments, wishes to try whether baking won t do better than boilin//y and ordereci tlie oven to be heated for that j)urj)Ose tliis morning ; but being called suddenly away, as I have said, he begged me to ])ut the head into it as soon as it was ready. I agreed, quite forg(itting at the time that I had to get this precious boat ready for sea this very afternoon. Now, the oven is prepared and 1 dare not leave my work ; indeed, I doubt whether I shall have it quite ready and taut after all, and there's the oven cooling ; so, if you don't help me, I'm a lost man.' " Having said this, the skipper looked as miserable aa his jolly visage would permit, and rubbed his nose. " * Oh, I'll be happy to do it for you, although it is not an agreeable job,' replied Butter. " * That's right — that's friendly now ! ' exclaimed the skipper, as if greatly relieved. ' Give us your flipper, my lad ; ' and seizing Peterkin's hand, he wning it affection- ately. * Now, here is the key of the outhouse ; do it as quickly as you can, and don't let any one see you. It's in a good cause, you know ; but the results might be ter- rible, if discovered,' " So saying, the skipper fell to hammering the boat again with surprising vigour till Butter was out of sight, and then, resuming his coat, returned to the house. ire that it to get the t from the Ucsh more inch about or, who is thing won't ) be lieatcd d siuhUjulv e head into irgotting at ^ady for sea ared and 1 ther I sliah I's the oven lan.' iiiserable as nose. Igh it is not laimed the jflipper, my it affection- ; do it as you. It'a [ght be ter- the boat lit of sight, ise. Fltd.M Tin; i'AU NUUTII. ■273 " An hour after tlii.s, Anderson went to take his loavci! out of the oven ; but he had no sooner taken down tho door than a rich odour of cooked meat greiited his nostrils. Uttering a deep growl, the bntler shouted out — * Sprat !' " Upon this, a very thin boy, with amis and legs like pipe stems, issued from the kitchen, and came timidly towards his ma.ster. " * Didn't I tell you, you young blackguard, that the grouse-pie wsus to be kept for Sunday, and there you've gone and ]>ut it to fire to-day.' " ' The grouse-j)ie !' said the boy, in amazement. " * Yes, the grouse-pie,' retorted the indignant butler ; and seizing the urchin by the neck, he held his head down to the mouth of the oven. " ' Smell that, you villain ! What did you mean by it 1 ehr " * Oh, murder!' shouted the boy, as, with a violent effort, he freed himself, and ran shrieking into the house. "'Murder!' repeated Anderson, in astonishment, while he stooped to look into the oven, where the first thing that met his gaze was a human head, whose ghastly visage, and staring eyeballs, worked and moved about under the influence of the heat as if it were alive. " With a yell that rung through the whole fort, the horrified butler rushed through the kitchen, and out at the front door, where, as ill-luck would have it, Mr Rogan happened to be standing at the moment. Pitching head first into the small of the old gentleman's back, he threw him off the platform, and fell into his arms. Starting up in a moment, the governor dealt Anderson a cuff that sent him reeling towards the kitchen door again, on the rif i ,if 271 snowflakl;s and sunbeams I I I I'; Pifl j I : steps of which lit; sat dowu, aud begau Lu sing out, 'Oh ! murder, murder ! the oven, tho oven !' and not another word, bad, good, or indillerent, couhl be got out of him for tlie next half-hour, as he swayed himself to and fro, and wrung his hands. " To m;ike a long story short, jNIr Eogan went himself to the oven, and fished out the head, along with the loaves, which were, of course, all spoiled." "And what was the result?" inquired Harry. " Oh ! there was a long investigation, and the skipper g'>t a blowing-up, and the doctor a warning to let Indian's skulls lie at peace in tluiir graves for the future, and poor Butter was sent to M'Kenzie's lUver as a punishment, for old Rogau could never be brought to believe that he hadn't been a willing tool in the ski})per's hands ; and z\.nderson lost his batch of bread and his oven, for it had to be pulled down, and a msw one built." " Humph ! and I've no doubt the governor read you a [»retty stiif lecture on practical joking." "He did," replied the acco\intant, laying aside his }»ipe, and drawing the green blanket over him, while Harry piled several large logs on the tire. " Good night," said the accountant. " Good night," replied his companions ; and in a few minutes more tlu^y were sound asleep in their snowy camp, while the huge fire contimied, during the greater jiart of the ni;j;ht, to cast its light on their slumbering ^"onns. I ■■ I f . v., (•'UO;vl TUV. b'Mi Nourii •JTf) CHAPTER XXI. I , I t I'taimlgan liuntiiig ; Ihiiniltou's shooting powers sevuruly tciUid ; a snow-storm. A.T about f(nir o'clock on the followni!]: morniiii', tlie Bleepei's were awakened by the cold, which had become very intense. The fire had burned down to a few embers, which merely emitted enough light to make darkness visible. Harry, being the most active of the party, was the first to bestir himself. liaising himself on hi^ elbow, while his teeth chattered, and his limbs trembled with cold, he cast a wobegone and excessively sleepy ghince towards the place where the fire had been ; then he scratched his head slowly ; then he stared at the fire again ; then he languidly glanced at Hamilton's sleeping visage ; and then he yawn(xl. Tlie accountant observed all this ; for although he ap[)eared to be buried in the depths of slumber, he was wide awake in reality, and, moreover, intensely cold. The accountant, however, wiis sly — deep — as he would have said himself, and knew that Harry's active habits would induce him to rise, on awaking, .and re-kindle the fire, — an event which the ac- countant earnestly desired to see accomplished, but which he as earnestly resolved should not be performed by him. Indeed, it was with this end in view that he had given vent to the terrific snore which had aroused his young ■n ' ( 27G SNOWFI^KES AND SUNBEAMS. ' r.l r 'i m companion a littk^ sooner than would have othcr'vs'ise been the case. " Afy eye," exciaimed Harry, in an undertone, "how precious cold it is ! " His eye nialdng no reply to this remark, he arose, and, going dovra on his hands and knees, began to coax the charcoal into a flame. By dint of severe blowing, he soon succeeded, and, heaping on a quantity of small twigs, the fitful flame sprang up into a steady blaze. He then threw several heavy logs on tlie fire, and in a very short space of time restored it almost to its original vigour. " What an abominable row you are kicking up," growled the accountant ; " why, you would waken the seven sleepers. Oh ! mending the fire," he added, in an altered tone; " ah ! I'll excuse you my boy, since that's what you're at." The accountant hereupon got up, along with Hamilton, who w^as now also awake, and the three spread their hands over the bright fire, and revolved their bodies before it, until they imbibed a satisfactory amount of heat. They were much too sleepy to converse, however, and contented themselves with a very brief inquAry as to the state of Hamilton's heels, which elicited the sleepy reply, " They feel quite well, thank you." In a short time, having become agreeably w^arm, they gave a simul- taneous yawn, and, lying down again, fell into a sleep, from which they did not awaken until the red winter sun shot its early rays over the arctic scenery. Once more Harry sprang up, and let Ms hand fall heavily on Hamilton's shoidder. Thus rudely assailed, that youth also sprang up, giving a shout, at the same time, that brought the accountant to his feet in an FHOM THE P^AR NORTJl. 277 fe instant ; and so, us if by an electric spark, the sleepeit were sirnultaneovisly roused into a state of wide-awake activity. " How excessively hungiy I feel ; isn't it strange ? " said Hamilton, as he assisted in re-kindling the fire, while the accountant filled his pipe, and Harry stuHed the tea- kettle full of snow. " Strange ! " cried Harry, as he placed the kettle on the fire — " strange ! to be hungiy after a five miles' walk, and a night in the snow 1 I would rather say it wius strange if you were not hungry. Throw on that billet, like a good fellow, and spit those grouse, while I cut some pemican and prepare the tea." "How are the heels now, Hamilton?" asked the accountant, who divided his attention between his pi])e and his snow-shoes, the lines of wliich required to be re- adjusted. " They appear to be as well as if nothing had happened to them," replied Hamilton ; " I've been looking at them, and there is no mark whatever. They do not even feel tender." " Lucky for you. old boy, that they were taken in time, else you'd have had another story to tell." " Do you mean to say that people's heels really freeze and fall off?" inquired the other, with a look of incre- dulity. " Soft, very soft, and green," murmured Harry, in a low voice, while he continued his work of adding fresh snow to the kettle, as the process of melting reduced its bulk. '■' I mean to say," replied the accountant, tapping the <;3hea out of his pipe, " that not only heels, but hands. \n •1 ■ 27« SNOVVFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS l|:^ f ■ ;■ t! feet, noses, and ears, frequently freeze, and ofl<}U fail oil in this country, tis you will find by sad experience, if you don't look after yourself a little better than you have done hitherto." One of the evil effects of the })erpetual jesting that pre- vailed at York Fort was, that " soft " (in other word>>, straiglitforw^ard, unsuspecting) youths had to undergo a long process of learning-by-experience : first, hdieviug everything, and then doubting everything, ere they arrived at that degree of sophistication which enabled them to listinguish between truth and falsehood. Having reached the doubting period in his training o> Hamilton looked down and said nothing, at least with his mouth, though his eyes evidently remarked, '■ I don't believe you." In future years, however, the evidence of these same eyes convinced him that what the accountant said U})on tliis occasion was but too true. Breakfast was a repetition of the supj)cr of the j)revious evening. During its discussion they planned proceedings for the day. " My notion is," said the accountant, interrupting the How of words ever and anon to chew the morsel with wliich his mouth was filled, " my notion is, that, as it's a fine clear day, we should travel five miles through the country parallel with North Kivcr. I know the ground, and can guide you easily to the spots where there are lots of willows, and, therefore, plenty of ptarmigan, seeing that they feed on willow tops ; and the snow that fell last night will help us a little." " How will the snow help us ? " inquired Hamilton. '' By covering up all the old tracks, to be sure, and shew ing only the new ones." en fall oil lice, if you you liave ig that pre- lier wordi;^ undergo a it, hdievi'ig liey arrived ed tlieni to Lis training, : least with id, '' I don't evidence of 8 accountant ulie previous proceedings •rnpting the liuorsel with that, as it's Ithrougli the the ground, here are lota |gan, seeing that fell last [amilton. [e, and shew P-ROM THE FAR NORTH. •279 " Well, captain," said Harry, as he raised a can of tea to his lips, and nodded to Hamilton, as if drinking hia health, " go on witli your proposals for tlie day. Five niiK\s np the river to begin with then — — " " Til en, we'll pull up," continued the accountant; ■' make a fire, rest a hit, and eat a nicHithful of pciuican ; after wliich we'll strike across country for the southern woodcutters' track, and so home." " And how much will that be ] " " xVbout fifteen miles." "Ha!" exclaimed Harry; " jtass the kettle, please. Thanks. Do you think you're up to that, Haminy ]" "I will try what I can do," replied Hamilton. "If the snow-shoes don't cause me to fall often, I think I shall stand the fatigue very well." "That's right," said the accountant; " fahit heart, &c,, you know. If you go on as you've begun, you'll be chosen to head the next expedition to the north pole." " Well," replied Hamilton, good - humouredly, " pray liead the present expedition, and let us be gone." " Eight ! " ejaculated the accountant, rising. " I'll just put my odds and ends out of the reach of the foxes and then we shall be off." In a few minutes every tiling was placed in security, guns loaded, snow-shoes put on, and the winter camp deserted. At first the walking was fatiguing, and poor Hamilton more than once took a sudden and eccentric plunge ; but, after getting beyond the wooded country, they found the snow much more compact, and their march, therefore, much more agreeable. On coming to the place where it was probable that they might fall in with ptarmigan, Hamilton became rather excited, and If. « ft r \ 1,11 'M 5 i I: I ' M ('^ 1 1'^ 1 I ■ I ii 280 SNOWFLAKES A^D SUNBEAMS apt to imagine that little lumps of snow, which hung ui)on the bushes here and tliere, were birds. " There now," he cried, in an energetic and slightly positive tone, as another of these masses of snow suddenly met his eager eye — " tliat's one, I'm quite vsure." The accountant and Harry both stopped short on Jiear- ing this, and looked in the direction indicated, " ¥hv away, then, Ilammy," said the former, endea- vouring to suppress a smile. " But do you think it really is one ?" asked Hamilton, anxiously. " Well, I don't see it exactly, but then, you know, I'm near-sighted." " Don't give him a chance of escape," cried Harry, seeing that his friend was undecided. "If you really do see a bird, you'd better shoot it, for they've got a strong pro})ensity to take wing when disturbed." Thus admonished, Hamilton raised his gun and took aim. Suddenly he lowered his piece again, and looking round at Harry, said in a low whisper — " Oh ! I should like so much to shoot it while flying. Would it not be better to set it up first 1 " " By no means," answered the accountant. "'A bird in the hand,' &c. Take him as you find him — look sharp ; he'll be off in a second." Again the gun was pointed, and, after some difficulty in taking aim, fired. " Ah ! what a i)ity you've missed him," shouted Harry; *'■ but see, he's not off yet ; how tame he is, to be sure; give him the other barrel, Hammy." This piece of advice proved to be uimecessary. In his anxiety to get the bird, Hamilton had cocked both barrels hich hung id slightly ,v sii(l(lcnly rt on liear- ler, endca- Hamillon, know, I'm ied Harry, )u really do ;ot a strong and t(wk md looking hile flying. ( ( A bird in harp ; he'll le difficulty .ted Harry ; to be sure; ry. In his otli barrela, PROM TIIE FAR NORTH. 281 and wliile gazing, half in disaj)pointment, half in surprise, at the su])posod bird, his finger unintentionally pressed the second trigger. In a moment the piece exploded. Being accidentally aimed in the right direction, it blew the lump of snow to atoms, and at the same time hitting its ownier on the chest v/ith the butt, knocked him ov.ir flat u})on his back. ''What a gun it is, to be sure!" said Harry, with a roguish laugh, as he a-ssisted the discomfited si)ortsman to rise ; " it knocks over game with butt and muzzle at once." " Quite a rare instance of one butt knocking another doA^Ti," added the accountant. At this moment a large flock of ptarmigan, startled by the double report, rose with a loud whirring noise about a hundred yards in advance, and after flying a short dis- tance, alighted. " There's real game at last, though," cried the account- ant, as he hurried after the birds, followed closely by hia young friends. Tliey soon reached the spot where the flock had alighted, and after following up the tracks for a few yards further, set them up again. As the birds rose, the accountant fired and brought down two ; Harry shot one and missed another, Hamilton being so nervously interested in the success of his comrades that he forgot to fire at all. "How stupid of me !" he exclaimed, while the others loaded their guns. " Never mind; better luck next time," said Harry, as they resumed their walk. " I saw the flock settle down about half a mile in advance of us ; so step out." Another short walk brought the s}»ortsmeu again v/ithin rnjige. I i ( . 1 I i f \% % < H •■'■ ■ 282 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNIJKAMS i ilf^ ft! ihi 1 ; -i |ii f; ! "Go to the front, Hammy," said the accountant, "and take the fii-st shot this time," Hamilton obeyed. ITo had scarcely made ten ste}>a in advance, when a single bird, tliat seemed to have been separated from the others, ran suddenly out JVoin under a bush, and stood stock still, at a distance of a few yards, with its neck stretched out and its black eye wide open, as if in astonishment. " Now, then, you can't miss that.'' Hamiltv battled slowly against the howling storm ; ]»ressing forward, for some minutes, with heads down, as if bon'nr/ through it, — then turning their backs to the blast for a few s(>conds' relief, — but always kee})ing as close to each other as possible. At length the woods were gained ; on entering which it was discovered that Hamilton was missing. "Hallo! where's Hamilton?" exclaimed Harry; "1 saw him beside me not five minutes ago." The accountant gave a loud shout, but there was no reply. Indeed, nothing short of his own stentorian voice could have been heard at all amid the storm. " There's nothing for it," said Harry, " but to search at once, else he'll wander about and get lost." Saying this, he began to retrace his steps, just as a brief lull in the gale took place. " Hallo ! don't you hear a cry, Hai-ry T' At this moment, there was another lull ; the drift fell, and, for an instant, cleared away, revealing the bewildered Hamilton, not twenty yards off, standing, like a pillar of snow, in mute despair. Profiting by the glimpse, Harry rushed forward, caught him by the arm, and led him into the partial shelter of the forest. Nothing further befel them after tin's. Tlieir route I I Hi 1 p I, I'll ■- I (, li ii \\'\ -•-fe-iiiMII^Oti-rTBfliWI 'I 28G SNOW FLAKES AND Sl'NUKAMS lay in shelter all the way to the fort. Poor Hamilton, it is true, took one or two of his occiusional i>lunges by the way, but witliout any serious result, — not even to the extent of stu fling his nose, eai-s, neck, mittens, pockets, gun-barrels, and everything else with snow, because, these being (piite I'ull and hard packed already, there wjis nc room left for the addition of another parti'^le. ■!t 1 1 1 j^: H m i! 1 I i'' ■ ? FKOM THK KAU KOUTIL 287 P ciiAPTKU xxri. f^ The v/i:iHT piickct; llaio lii'iun from olil fiieiuls, ami wInIics thht 111) was witli tliuin. Letti:us from homo ! What a burst of HiuMeii emotion — what a riot of coiillictiiig feelings, of tlrcad and joy, expectation and anxiety — what a fU)(xl of old memories — what stirring up of almost forgotten associations, tlieso three words create in the hearts of those wlio dwell in distant regions of this earth, far, far away from kith and kin — from friends and acquaintances — from the much-loved scenes of childhood, and from home! Lettei"s from homo ! How gratefully the sound falls u})on ears that have ))een long unaccustomed to sounds and things cormected with home, and so long accustomed to wild, savage sounds, that these have at length lost their novelty, and become everyday and commonplace, while the fii-st have gradually grown strange and unwonted. For many long months, home and all connected with it has become a dream of other days, and savage-land a present reality. The mind has by de- grees become absorbed by surrounding objects — objects so utterly unassociatcd with, or unsuggestive of any other land, that it involuntarily ceji-ses to think of the scenes of childhood with the same feelings that it once did. As time rolls on, home assumes a misty, undefined character, as if it were not only distant in reality, Init were also slowly ( .. 1 M i:i r r Ir 288 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS I'utreatiiig further ami further away — growing gradually faint and dream-] iJvc, tliougli notlessdcar, to the mental view. "Letters from home!" sliouted Mr Wilson, and the dcjetor, and the ski])})er, simultaneously, as the s])ortsmen, after dashing througli the wild storm, at last reached the fort, and stumbled tumultuously into Bachelors' Hall. " Wliat ! — Where ! — How ! — You don't nu-an it ! " they exclaimed, coming to a sudden stand, like three [)il- hirs of snow-clad astonishment. " Ay," replied the doctor — who alfected to be quite cool upon all occasions, and rather cooler than usual if tho occasion was more than ordinarily exciting — " ay, we do mean it. Old Eogan lias got the packet, and is even now disembowellincc it." " More than that," interrupted the skipper, who sat smoking as usual by the .stove, with his hands in his breeches -pockets — " more than that, I .saw him dissect- ing into the very marrow of the thing; so, if we don't storm tlie old admiral in his cabin, he'll go to sleep over the.se prosy yarns that the govcrnor-in-chief writes to him, and we'll have to whistle for our letters till mid- nirvht." The skip|)cr s remark was interrupted l)y the o})oning of the outer door and the entrance of the butler. " INIr Rogan wishes to sec you, sir," said that worthy to the accountant. " I'll be with him in a minute," he replied, as he threw ojf his ca])ote and proceeded to unwind himself as quickly as his multitudinous haps would jiermit. By this time Harry Somerville and Hamilton were busily occupied in a similar manner, while a running fire of question and answer, jesting remark and bantering PROM THE FAR NOUTIJ. 280 reply, wius kept up bctwucii tlie young men, from tluur various apartments aiw tlic hall. The doctor was cool, as usual, and impudent. He had a habit of walking up and down while he smoked, and was thus enabled to look in uj)on the inmates of the several sleeping rooms, and make his remarko in a quiet, sarcastic manner, the galling elfect of which was heightened by Ins habit of pausing at the end of every two or three words, to em.^' a few pulfs of smoke. Having exhausted a fjood deal of small talk in this way, and having, moreover, ilnished his pipe, the doctor went to the stove to re-tlU and re-light. " What a deal of trouble you do take to make yourself comfortable," said he to the ski])per, who sat with his chair tilted on its hind legs, and a pillow at his back. " No harm in that, doctor," replied the skipper, with II smile. *' No harm, certainly; hut it looks uncommonly lazy- like." "What does?" " Why, putting a pillow at your back, to be sure." The doctor was a full-fleshed, muscular man, and, owing to this fact, it mattered little to him whether his chair happened to be an easy one or not. As the skii)per sometimes remarked, he carried padding always about with him ; he was, therefore, a little apt to sneer at the attempts of his brethren to render the ill-shaped, wooden- bottomed chairs, with which the hall was ornamented, bearable. " AYell, doctor," said the skipper, " 1 cannot see how you make me out lazy. Surely it is not an evidence of laziness my endeavouring to render these instruments of torture less tormenting 1 Seeking to be comfortal.>le, if i^!t I i 290 SNOWFLAKES A.ND SUNP.KAMS Ui! it doet-. not inconveLienut any one else, is not laziness, Wli_y, what is comfort T The skij)i)er began to wax phiW)|thica] at t}i)j5 point, and took the i)ipe from his aioiiLli as he gravely propounded the momentous ques- tion. " What in comfort ? If I go out to camp in the woods, and, after turning in, find a sharp stump sticking into my rib? on one side, and a i)ine root driving in the. small tjf my back on the other side, is that comfort ? Certainly nut. And il" I get up, seize a hatchet, level the stump, cut away the root, and spread pine brush over the place, am I to be called lazy for doing so 1 Or if 1 sit down on a chair, and, on trying to lean back to rest myself, find that the stupid lul)ber who made it, has so constructed it, that four small hard points alone touch my person, — two being at the hip-joints, and two at the shoidder-blades ; and if, to relieve such physical agony, J jump up and clap a pillow at my back, am I to be called lazy for doing that?''^ " What a glorious entry that would make in the log !" said the doctor, in a low tone, soliloquisingly, lus if he made the remark merely for his own satisfaction, while he tapped the ashes out of his pipe. The skipper looked as if he meditated a sliarp re})ly; but liLs intentions, whatever they might have been, were internipted by the opening of the door, and the entrance of the accountant, bearing under his arm a packet of letters. A general nish was made upon him, and in a few minutes a dead silence reigned in the hall, broken only at intervals by an oxclauiation of surprise or pathos, as the inmates, in tlie retirement of their separate apart- ments, perused lettera from friends in the interior of thf I I *'■ 1 FROM THE FAU NOIITII. 291 laziness, I t(> wax from Ills ous ques- np ill the p sticking inn in the comfort 1 3het, level )ine brusli gso] Or m back to acle it, has ilone touch two at the al agony, 1 ,0 be called II the log !" ly, as if he ion, while larp reply; |been, were le entrance packet of in a few [•oken only , pathos, as rate apart- Irior of the oountry, and friends at home, — letters that were old — Bome of them bearing dates many months b.,, k — and travel-stained, but new, and fresh, and cheering, never- theless, to their owners, as the clear bright sun in winter, or the verdant leaves in spring. Harry Somerville's letters were numerous and long. He had several from f]-iends in Red River, bt'sides one or two from other parts of the Indian country, and one — it was very thick and heavy- -that l)ore the post-marks of Britain. It was late that night ere the last candle was extinguished in the hall, and it was late too before Harry Someiwille ceased to peruse and re-peruse the long letter from home, and found time or inclination to devote to his other correspondents. Among the rest was a letter from his old friend and companion, Charley Kennedy, which ran as follows : — My DEAii Harry, — It really seems more than an age since I saw you. Your last epistle, written in the pertur- bation of mind consequent upon being doomed to spend another winter at York Fort, reached me only a few days ago, and filled me with pleasant recollections of other days. Oh ! man, how much I wish that you were with me in this beautiful country ! You are aware that I have been what they call "roughing it" since you and I parted on the shores of Lake Winipcg ; but, my dear fellow, the idea that most people have of what that phrase means, is a very erroneous one indeed. " Roughing it " I certainly have })een, inasmuch as I have been living on rough fare, iissociating with rough men, and sleej)ing on rough beds under the starry sky ; but I assure you, tliat all this is not half so rough upon the constitution ns what they ■ t I 4 ■ii : t 'f r rr: 292 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS m>ii m I ,'■ (, ■; ! ! i t M call Icailiiig au easi/ life ; which is simply a life that makes a poor fellow stagnate, body and spirit, till the one coniea to he unable to digest its food, and the other incompetent to jump at so much as half an idea. Anything but an easy life, to my mind. Ah ! there's nothing like roughing it, Harry, my boy. Why, I am thriving on it ; growing like a young walrus; eating like a Canadian voijwjeur, and sleeping like a top. This is a splendid country for spoi-t, and, as our Bourgeois'" has taken it into his head that I am a good hand at making friends with the Indians, he has sent me out on several expeditions, and afforded me some famous opportunities of seeing life among the redskins. There is a talk just now of establishing a new outpost in this district, so, if I succeed in persuading the governor to let me accompany the party, I shall have something interesting to write about in my next letter. By the way, 1 wrote to you a month ago, by two Indians who said they were going to the missionar}'- station at Norway House. Did you ever get it? There is a hunter here just now, who goes by the name of Jacques Caradoc. He is a first-rater — can do anything, in a wild way, that lies within the power of mortal man, and is an inexhaustible anecdote-teller, in a quiet way. He anil I have been out buffalo-hunting two or three times, and it would have done your heart good, Hai-ry, my dear boy, to have seen us scouring ovei' the ])rairie together on two big-boned Indian horses ; — regular trained buffalo-runners, that didn't need the sjmr to urge, nor the rein ho guide them, when once thev caught siirht of the black cattle, and kept a sharp look-out for badger • Tho gentleman in cliarge of au estublishuient is always designated \he Bourgeois, J! i that makes ) one coinea ticompetent 11112 but an CO rougliing t; gi-owing ,11 voijageur, country for to liis head U with the cUtioiis, and seeing life list now of if I succeed [ly tlie party, about in my 3iitli ago, by e missionary t iti There le name of o anything, mortal man, L quiet way. wo or three -•()od, Harry, the prairie ; — regular ipur to urge, caught sight .t for badger desUjna'.cd Khe FROM THE FAR XOUTU. 203 holes, Just as if they had been reasonable creatures. Tlie first time I went out 1 had several ratlier ugly fills, owing to my inexperience. The fact is, that if a man has never run Ijuffalocs before, lie's sure to get one or two uj)sets, no matter Ikav good a horseman he may be. And that monster, Jacques, although he's the best fellow I ever met with for a hunting com])aniou, always took occasion to grin at my misha})S, and gravely to read me a lecture to the effect that they were all owing to my own clumsiness or stupidity ; which, you will acknowledge, was not calculated to restore my ecpninimity. The very first run we hatl cost me the entire skin of my nose, and converted that feature into a su])erb Iloman for the next three weeks. It haj)})eiied thus, Jacques and I were riding over the prairie in search of bullaloes. The ])lace was interspersed with sundry knolls covered with trees, slips and belts of woodland, with ponds scattered among them, and open sweeps of the })lain here and there ; altogether a delightful country to ride through. It was a clear early moridng, so that our horses were fresh and full of spirit. They knew, as well as we ourselves did, what we were out for, and it was no easy matter to restrain them. The one I rode wfis a great long-legged beast, as like as possible to tluit abominable kangaroo that nearly killed me at Red Iliverj aa for Jacques, he was mounted on a first-rate charger. I don't know how it is, but, someliow or other, everything about Jacques, or belonging to him, or in the remotest degree connected with him, is always first-rate ! He generally owns a first-rate horse, and if he ha})pens by any unlucky chance to be compelled to mount a bad one, it immediately becomes another animal. He seems to infuse some of hi^ . \. 294 SNOWFLAKKS AND SUNBEAMS 1 s H, own wonderful spirit into it ! Well, as Jacques and I curvetted along, skirting tlie low bushes at the edge of a wood, out burst a whole herd of buflaloes. Bang went Jacques' gun, almost before I had winked to make sure that I saw rightly, and down fell the fattest of them all, while the rest tossed up their tails, heels, and heads, in oni; grand whirl of indignant amazement, and scoured awa) like the wind. In a moment our horses w^ere at full stretch after them, on their oivn account entirely, ana without any reference to ns. Wlien I recovered my self- [)ossession a little, I threw forward my gun and fired, but, owdng to my endeavouring to hold the reins at tho same time, I nearly blew off one of my horse's ears, and only knocked up the dust about six yards ahead of us ! Of course Jacques could not let this pass unnoticed. He was sitting quietly loading his gun, as cool as a cucumber, while his horse was dashing forward at full stretch, w^th the reins hanging loosely on Ins neck. "Ah ! Mister Charles, " said he, with the le;ist possible giin on his leathern visage, " that was not well done. You should never hold the reins when you fire, nor try to put the gun to your shoulder. It a'nt needful. The beast '11 look arter itself, if it's a riglar ladlalo runner ; anyways holdin' the reins is of no manner of use. I once know'd a gentleman that came out here to see the buflalo huntin'. He was a good enough shot in his way, an' a first-rate rider. But he was full o' queer notions, he would load his gun wdtli the ramrod in the riglar way, instead o' doin' tis we do, tumblin' in a drop pow^der, spittin' a ball out your moutl U(. vvn the muzzle, and hittiu' the stock on the pommell of the saddle to send it home. And he had them miserable things — tha sojuet/iui' f • "\ FROM TTIF, PAR NORTH. 296 jues and I j i edge of a Bang went make sure if tliein all. eads, in on(^ Qured awa) vere at full titirely, aiui L-ed niv self- 1 aud fired, reins at tlio e's ears, and diead of us ! Loticed. He a cucumber, jtretcli, with .east possible well done, tire, nor try edful. Tlie lilo runner ; |\ise. I once the bufialo [s way, an' a notions, he riglar way, [rop powder, [muzzle, and le to send it ■the somethin 'cussion-ca])S, and used to fiddle away with them, while we were knock in* over the cattle in all directions. Moreover he had a notion that it was altogether wrong to let go his reins oven for a moment, and so, what betweeii the ramrod, and the 'cussion-caps, and the reins, he was worse than the greenest clerk that ever came to the country. He gave it up in despair at last, aftt^r lamin' two horses, and finished off* by runnin' after a big bull, that turned on him all of a suddent, crammed its head and horns into the side of his horse, and sent the poor fellow head over heels on the green grass. He wasn't much the worse for it, but his fine double-barrelled gun was twisted into a shape that would almost have puzzled an Injin to tell what it was." Well, Harry, all the time that Jacques was telling me this we were gaining on the buffidoes, and at last we got quite close to them, aud as luck would have it, the very thing that happened to the amateur sportsman happened to me. I went madly after a big bull in spite of Jacques' remonstrances, and, just as I got alongside of him, up went his tail, (a sure sign that his anger was roused) and round he came, head to the front, stiff" as a rock, my poor charger's chest went right between his horns, and, as a matter of course, I continued the race upon nothing, head first, for a distance of about thirty yards, and brought up on the bridge of my nose. INIy poor dear father used to say I was a Inill- headed rascal, and, upon my word, I believe he was more literally con-ect than he imagined, for, although I fell with a fearful crash, head first, on the hard plain, I rose up immediately, and in a few minutes was able to resume the chase again. My horse was equally fortunate, for, al- though thus brought to a sudden siand while nt full gallop, ! I :h M 1 i J I '1 1 h ^,: 1 1 t ii 206 8NOWFLAKE3 .VXD SUNBEAMS he wheeled about, gcave a contemptuous flourish with liii^ liecla, and cantered after Jacques, wlio soon «iught him again. My head bothered me a good deal for some time after this accident, and swelled up till my eyes became almost undistinguishable ; but a few weeks put me all right again. And who do you think this man Jacques is ? You'd never guess. He's the trapper whom lled- feather told us of long ago, and whose wife was killed by the Indians. He and llcdfeather have met and are very fond of each other. How often in the midst of these wild excursions have my thoughts wandered to you, Hany! The fellows I meet witli here are all kind- hearted, meriy companions, but none like yourself I sometimes say to Jacques, when we become communica- tive to each other beside the camp-fire, that my earthly felicity would be perfect if I had Harry Somerville here, and then I think of Kate, my sweet, loving sister Kate, ana feel that, even although I had you with me, there would still be something wanting to make things perfect. Talking of Kate, by the way, I have received a letter from her, the first sheet of which, as it speaks of mutual Red Hiver friends, I herewith enclose. Pray keep it safe, and return per first opportunity. "We've loads of furs here and plenty of deer-stalking — not to mention gallop- ing on horseback on the plains in summer, and dog-sledg- ing in w-inter. Alas ! my poor friend, I fear that it is rather selfish in me to write so feelingly about my agree- able circumstances, when I know you are slowly dragging out your existence at that melancholy place, York Fort ; but, believe me, I sympathise with you, and I hope ear- nestly that you ^vill soon be appointed to more genial scenes. T have much very much to tell you yet, but am Ii with his Riiglit iiim somo time es became )ut mc all u Jacques r\\om Ked- s killed by id are very st of these 3d to you, J all kind- /■ourself. I sommunica- my earthly 3rville here, sister Kate, 1 me, there ngs perfect, ed a letter 3 of mutual ieep it safe, lads of furs tion gallop- Id dog -sled g- that it is my agree- [ly dragging Tork Fort ; ll hope ear- lore genial ^et, but am FROM THE FAR NORTH. 20' compelled to reserve it for a future epistle, as the packet which is to convey this is on the point of being closed. Adieu, my dear Harry, and wherever you may hapjien to pitch your tent, always bear in kindly remembrance your old friend, Charles Kennedy. The letter was finished, but Harry did not cease to hold intercourse with his friend. With his liead resting on his two hands and his elbows on the table, ho sat long, silently gazing on the signature, while his mind revelled in the past, the present, and the future. He bounded OA'er the wilderness that lay between him and the beauti- ful plains of the Saskatchewan. He seized Charley round the neck, and hugged and wrestled with him as in days of yore. He mounted an imaginary charger and swept across the plains along with him ; — listened to anecdotes innumerable from Jacques, attacked thousands of buf- faloes, singled out scores of wild bulls, pitched over horses' heads and alighted precisely on the bridge of his nose, always in close proximity to his old friend. Gradually his mind returned to its prison-house, and his eye fell on Kate's letter, which he picked up and began to read. It ran thus : — My deae, dear, darling Charley, — I cannot tell you how much my heart has yearned to see you, or hear from you, for many long, long months past. Your last delight- ful letter, which I treasure up as the most precious object I possess, has indeed explained to me how utterly impos- sible it was to have written a day sooner than you did ; but that does not comfort me a bit, or make those weary packets more rapid and frequent in their movements, or , :l ?♦: i ■ iirwin ii«a (■ 298 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS , . :■ ■?■■!• :U MP J ^l the time tliat passes between the periods of hearing from you less dreary and anxious. God hless and })rotect yon, my darling, in tlie midst of all the dangera that surround you. But I did not intend to begin this letter by murmuring, so pray forgive me, and I sliall try to atone for it by giving you a minute account of everybody here, about whom you are interested. Our belovcnl father and mother, I am thankful to say, are qiiite well. Papa has taken more than ever to smoking since you went away. He is seldom out of the summer-house in the garden now, where I very frequently go, and spend hours together in reading to and talking ^vith him. He very often speaks of you, and I am certain that he misses y n far more than we expected, although I think he cannot miss you nearly so much as I do. For some weeks past, indeed ever since we got your LovSt letter, papa was engaged all the forenoon in some mysterious work, for he used to lock himself up in the summer-house, — a thing he never did before. One day I went there at my i-^ual time, and instead of having to wait till he should unlock the door, I found it already open and entered the room, which was so full of smoke that I could hardly see. I found papa writing at a sm.'il] table, and the moment he heard my footstep, he jumped up with a fierce frown, and shouted, "Who's there ?" in that terrible voice that he used to speak in long ago when angry with his men, but which he has almost quite given up for some time past. He never speaks to me, as yon know very well, but in the kindest tones, so you may imagine what a dreadful fright I got for a moment, but it was only for a moment, beciiuse the instant he saw that it was me, his dear face changed, and he folded me in hw arms, sajnng, " Ali ! Kate, forgive me, my darling! I did i*f^ \ring from !ct you, my round you. lurmuring, 5 for it by liere, about tncl mother, has taken ay. Ho is now, whore r in readiui:^ iaks of you, )re than we m nearly so d ever since the forenoon himself up lefore. One ,d of having d it already ill of smoke Of at a smal) he jumped there 1 " in \rf a^o when quite given me, as you Iso you may ji-ioment, but 1 he saw that pd me in hih l-ling! I did FKOM THi: l-A i NOIdfl. '200 not know it was you, and I tliought J liad loi.'ked t .,• door and was angry at being so unceremoniously iiit nipted. He then tokl me lie was just linishing a letter /(' advict? to you, and, going up to tlie table, pushed the papei-a hurri(!(lly into a drawer. As Ik; did so, I guessed what jiad been his mysterious occu[)ati»>ii, I'or he seemed to have covered quires of j)aper with the closest writing. All ! Charley, you're a lucky fellow to bo able to extort such I0112 lettiu's from our dear fatlu'r. You know how difficult he finds it to write even the sliortcst note, and you rememlier his old favourite expression, " I would rather skin a wild buffalo bull alive tlian write a lont^' letter." He deserves long ones in return, Charley; but I need not urge you on that score — you are an excellent corres})ondent. jNEamma is able to go out every day now for a drive in the prairie. She was coniined to the house for nearly three weeks last month, with some sort of illness that the doctor did not seem to understand, and at one time I was much frightened, and very, very anxious about her, she became so weak. It would have made your heart glad to have seen the tender way in which papa nursed her through the illness. I had fancied that he wiis the very last man in the world to make a siek- nurse, so bold and quick in his movements, and with such a loud gndf voice — for it is gruff, although very sweet at the same time. But the moment he began to tend mamma he spoke more softly even than dear Mr x\ddiso?i does, and he began to walk about the house on tiptoe, and per- severed so long in this latter that all his moccasins becran to be worn out at the toes, while the heels remained quite strong. I begged of him often not to tukc so much trouble, as / was naturallv the proper Tiurse fa- mamma, 20 l\\\ ,! < llfl m \M 1 i I; j; ?! U.i 300 SNOWFI.AKKS AND SUNDKAMS hut ho wouldn't lioar of it, and insisted on carrying hreakfjust, diniuT, and tea to her, hesi(U;a giving her all her medicine. Jle was i'or ev(a* making mistakes, liow- ever, much to his own sorrow, the darling man ; and 1 had to watch him pretty closely, for more than once he luus ])een on tlie jxdnt of giving mamma a gliuss of laudaniim in mistake for a glass of port wine. I wa.s a good deal frightened for him at first, us, before lie became accus- tomed to the work, lie tumbled over the chairs and tripped on the carpets while carrying trays with dinners and broakfiusts, till 1 thought he would really injure himself at hust, and then he was so terribly angiy with himself at making such a noise and breaking the dishes — I think he luus broken nearly an entire dinu(;r and tea set of crockery. Poor George, the cook, has sufTered most from these mishaps, for you know that dear pa})a cannot get angry without letting a little of it out upon somebody; and whenever he broke a dish or let a tray fall, he used to nish into the kitchen, shake his fist in George's face, and ask him, in a fierce voice, what he meant by it. But he always got better in a tew seconds, and finished off by telling him never to mind, that he was a good sei'vant on the whole, and he wouldn't say any more about it just now, but he had better look sharp out and not do it again. I must say, in praise of George, that on such occasions, he looked veiy sorry indeed, and said he hoped that he would always do his best to give him satisfaction. This was only jjropor in him, for he ought to be very thankful that our father restrains his anger so much ; for you know he was rather violent 07ice, and you've no idea, Charley, how groat a restraint he now lays on himself. He seems to me quite like a lamb, and I am bcginnincf to rHOM TIIK FAR NOHTir. 301 cairyiiig ig her all ikort, how- m ; aiul I n once he liuuliiniiin good th'nl vine ftccus- nd trippo'l nners and ire himself Lth himself s — I think tea set of most from cannot get ebody; and ised to nish ,ce, and ask t. But he [shed ofl' by servant on e about it IkI not do it at on such hd he hoped Isatisfaction. to be very much ; for .'ve no idea, on himself, icginnine; to feel aoineliow an if we had been mistaken, and that hfi never waa a passionate man at all. I think it is partly owing to dear Mr Addison, who visits us very frequently now, and pa})a and lie are often sliut up together for many hours in the smoking-houso. I was Hure that papa would soon come to like him, for his religion is so free from everything like severity or afiected solemnity. The cook, and llosa, and my dog that you named Twist, are all quite well. The last hjus grown into a very larg(? and beautiful animal, .something like the stag-hound in the picture-book we u.sed to study together long ago. lie is exceedingly fond of me, and I feel him to be quite a protector. The cocks and hens, the cow and tlie old mare, are also in per- fect health ; so now, having told you a good deal about ourselves, I will give you a short account of the doings in the colony. First of all, your old friend ]\Ir Kipples is still alive and well, and so are all our old companions in the school. One or two of the latter have Ivft, and young Naysrnith has joined the Company's service. Betty l^eters comes verj' often to see us, and she always asks for you with great earnestness. I think you have stolen the old wo- man's heart, Charley, for she speaks of you with great affection. Old Mr Seaforth is still as vigorous as ever, dashing about the settlement on a high-mettled steed, just as if he were one of the youngest men in the colony. He nearly poisoned himself, ])oor man, a month ago, by taking a dose of some kind of medicine by mistake. I did not hear what it was, but I am told that the treatment was rather severe. Fortunately the doctor happened to bo at home when lie was sent for, else our old friend v/ould, I fear, have died. As it was, tlie doctor cured hiiu » : I • ,1 i I I « ■iPiwi ; iii 302 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS I.' fi. ■ il M i ■ 111- with great difficulty. He first gave him an emetic, then {)ut mustard blisters to the soles of his feet, and afterwards lifted him into one of his own ciirts, witliout springs, in which he drove him for a loner time overall the ])loui];hed fields in the neiirhbourhood. If this is not an exni'fjeratcd account, Mr S(!aforth is cortainlv made of sterner stulF than most men. I was told a funny anecdote of him a few days ago, which I am sure you have never heard, other- wise you would have told it to me, for there used to be no secrets between us, Charley, — alas ! I have no one to con- fide in, or advise with, now that you are gone. You have often heard of the great flood — not Noah's one — but the flood that nearly swept away our settlement, and did so much damage before you and I were born. "Well, you recollect that people used to tell of the way in which the river rose after the breaking up of the ice, and how it soon overflowed all the low points, sweeping off everything in its course. Old INIr Seaforth's house stood at that time on the little point, just beyond the curve of the river, at the foot of which our own house stands, and as the river con- tinued to rise, Mr Seaforth went about actively securing his property. At first he only thought of his boat and canoes, which, with the help of his son Peter and a Cana- dian, who happened at the time to be employed about the place, he dragged up and secured to an ii'on staple in the side of his house. Soon, however, he found that the dan- ger was greater than at first he imagined. The point became comjiletely covered with water, which brought down great numbers of half-droymcd and qni'te-dvovi'iicd cattle, pigs, and poultry; and stranded them at the gar- den fence, so that in a short time jioor ]\[r Seafortii coidcJ scarcely move about his overcrowded domains. On seeing FKOM THE FAR NORTH. 3^)'^ ic, then ersvards •ings, in »lou'j;he(l r'2(', rated lor stuir )f liim a •d, otlier- to be no e to con- le. You one — but ,, and did Well, you yliich the ow it soon •ything in ,t time on |er, at tlie iver con- \ securing boat and Id a Cana- I about the nle in the the dan- Hie point brought ^Uxnvned It the gar- jrth could u seeing this, lie drove his own cattle to the highest laud in ]w neighbourhood and hastened back to the house, intending to carry as much of the furniture as possible to the sanit place. But during his short absence, the river had risen so ra})idly, that he was obliged to give up all thoughts of this, and think only of securing a few of his valuables. The bit of land round his dwelling was so thickly covered with the poor cows, sheep, and oili r animals, that he could scarcely make his way to the house, and y(ju may fancy his consternation on reaching it, to find that the water was more than knee-deep round the walls, while a few of the cows and a whole herd of pigs had burst o])en the door (no doubt accidentally) and coolly entered the dining-room, where they stood with drooping heads, very wet, and apparently very miserable. The Canadian was busy at the back of the house, loading the boat and canoe with everything he could lay hands on, and was not awaro of the foreign invasion in front. INfr Seaforth cared little for this, however, and began to collect all the things he held most valuable, and threw them to the man, who stowed them away in the boat. Peter had been left in charge of the cattle, so they had to work hard. While thus employed the water continued to rise with fearful rapidity, and rushed against the house like a mill-race, so that it soon became evident that the whole would, ere long, be swept away. Just as they finished loading the boat and canoes, the staple which held them gave way ; in a moment they were swept into the middle of the river, and carried out of sight. The Canadian was in the boat at the time the staple broke, so that Mr Seaforth was now left in a dwelling that bid fair to emulate Noah's ark in au hour or two, without a chance of escape, and with P ■ !' •' f H 304 r.NOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS ii ! ■! ijo better company than live black oxen, in the dining-room, besides three sheep that were now scarcely able to keep their heads above water, and throe little pigs that were already drowned. The poor old man did his best to pnsh ont the intruders, but only succeeded in ejecting two sheep and an ox. All the others positively refused to go, so he was fain to let them stay. By shutting the outer door, he suc- ceeded in keeping out a great deal of water. Then lie waded into the parlour, where he found some more little pigs floating about and quite dead. Two, however, more adventurous than their comrades, had saved their lives bv mounting first on a chair and then upon the table, where they were comfortably seated, gazing languidly at their mother, a very heavy fat sow, which sat, with what seemed an expression of settled dopair, on the sofa. In a fit of wrath, Mr Seaforth seized the young pigs and tossed them out of the window, whereupon the old one jumped down, and half- walking, half-swimming, made her way to her companions in the dining-room. The old gentleman now ascended to the garret, where, from a small ^vindo\v, he looked out upon the scene of devastation. Ilis chief anxiety was about the foundation of the liouse, which, being made of a wooden framework, like almost all the others in the colony, would certainly float if the water rose much liigher. His fears were better founded than the house. As he looked up the river, which had by this time overflowed all its banks and was spreading over the plains, he saw a fresh burst of water coming down, which, when it dashed against his dwelling, forced it about two yards from its foundation. Suddenly he remembered that there was a large anchor and chain in the kitchen, both of which he had brought there one day, to serve as a sort J til lii,. LUg-room, ieep their -e already ill out the sheep and so he was )r, he sue- Then he nore little 3ver, more sir lives by hie, where y at their uit seemed In a fit of 3ssed them ped down, vay to her eman now v-indow, he Ilis chief ise, which, lost all the the water ■d than the ad bv this 2 over the iwn, which, about two ibered that chen, both ke as a sort \V 1 FllOM THE FAn NORTH. 3or» of anvil, when lie wanted to do some blacksmitli work. Hastening do^vn, lie fiistened one end of the cliain to the sofa, and cast the anchor out of the window. A few minutes afterwards another rush of water stnick the building, which yielded to pressure, and SAVung slowly down until the anchor arrested its further progress. This was only for a few seconds, however. The chain w;is a slight one. It snapped, and the house swept majestically down the stream, while its terrified owner scrambled to the roof, which he found already in possession of his fa- vourite cat. Hero he had a clear view of his situation. The plains were converted into a lake, above whose surface rose trees and houses, several of which, like his own, were floatinjj on the stream or stranded among shallows. Set- tlei'S were rowing about in boats and canoes in all directions, but, although some of them noticed the poor man sitting beside his cat on the house-top, they were either too far off or had no time to render him assistance. For two davs nothing was heard of old Mr Seaforth. Indeed, the settlers had too much to do in saving them- selves and their families to think of others ; and it was not until the third day that people began to inquire about him. His son Peter had taken a canoe and made diUgent search in all directions, but although he found the house sticking on a shallow point, neither his father nor the cat were on, or in it. At last he was brought to the island, on which nearly half the colony had collected, by an Indian who had passed the house and brought him away in his canoe, along with the old cat. Is he not a wonderful man, to have come through so much in his old age ? and he is still so active and hearty ! Mr Swan of the mill is dead. He died of fever last week. Poor old f . ■| fi 30G SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS M' If ^ i j 1 J i li .^ ae]ielors' Hall down to tlie freez- ing ])(,)int. All his companions had put out their candles, and wert; busy, doubtless, dreaming of the friends whose letters had struck and re-awakened the long dormant chords that used to echo to the tones and scenes of other days. With a alight shiver, Harry returned to his apart- ment, and kneeled to thank Cod for protecting and pre- serving his absent friends, and especially, for semling him " good news from a far land," The letter with the British post-marks on it was placed under his j)illow. It occupied his waking and sleeping thoughts that night, and it was the first thing he thought of and re-read on the following morning, and for many mornings after- wards. Only those can fully estimate the value of such letters, who live in distant lands, where letters are few — veiy, veiy few — and far betwoPT). . I I:., .:l ;;f! close, and lith a deep It it advis- dshes and I he endea- is soou a.i lie well-re- in, a short %. illf!; hi' pi (! ' i ; J ,■ !i 5*- 1 ! ! »■ ,M ■:fi;i An I ! 808 BNOWFLAKES AXD SUNEE.UfS CHAPTEIl XXIIl. Changes; Harry and Hamilton find that variety is indeed charminc; the latter astonislies tlie former considerably. TiiKEE months passed away, but the snow still lay deep, and white, and undiminislied around York Fort. Win- ter — cold, silent, unyielding winter — still drew its white mantle closely round the lonely dwelling of the fur- traders of the far north. Icicles hung, as they had done for months before, from the eves of every iiouse, from the tall black scaffold on which the great bell hung, and from the still taller erection that had been put up as an outlook for " the ship " in summer. At the present time, it commanded a bleak view of the frozen seiu Snow covered every house-top, and hung in ponderous masses from their edges, as if it were about to fall; but it never fell, it hung there in the same position day after day, unmeltcd, unchanged Snow covered the whole land, and the frozen river, the swamps, the sea-beach and the sea itself, as far as the eye could reach, seemed like a pure white car- pet. Snow lined the upper edge of every paling, filled up the key-hole of every door, embanked about half of every window, stuck in little knobs on the top of every picket, and clung in masses on every drooping branch of the pine-trees in the forest. Frost — sharp, biting frost — solidified, surrounded, and pervaded everything. Mercury Fi;OM THE FA1{ NOrvTII. 309 tiarmine:; 11 lay deop, ort. Win- kV its white »f the fiir- )efore, from scaffold on still taller fur " the ommanded ered every from their ver fell, it uiimeltcd, the frozen itself, as white car- ry paling, about half :)p of every branch of ing frost — Mereun' waa congealed by it ] vapour was condensed l)y it ; iron was cooled by it until it could scarcely V)0 touclied with- out (as ilie men expressed it) " burning " tlie lingers. Tlie water-jugs in Bachelors' Hall and the water-buckuts were frozen by it, nearly to tin; bottom ; though there was a g(jod stove there, and the Hall was not vsualhj a cold })lace ])y any means The breath of the inhabitants was congealed by it on tlui window-panes, until they had become coated with ice an inch thick. The breath of the men was rendered white and opacpie by it, as tlu-y panted and hurried to and fro about their ordinary avocations ; beating their gloved hands together, and stamping their well-wrapped-up feet on the hard beaten snow to keep them warm. Old Ivobin's nose seemed to be entirely shrivell(>d up into his face by it, aa he drove his ox-cart to the river to fetch his daily supjily of water. The oidy things that were not affected by it were the fires, which crackled and roared as if in laughter, and twisted and leapt as if in uncontrollable glee at the bare idea of John Frost acquiring, by any aHiflce wdiatever, the smallest possible influence over thciv Three months had elapsed, but frost and snow, instead of abating, had gone on increasing and intensifying, deepening and ex- tending its work, and riveting its chains. Winter — cold, silent, unyielding winter — still reigned at York Fort, as though it had made it a sine qua non of its existence at all that it should reign there for ever ! But although everything was thus wintry and cold, it was by no means cheerless or dreary. A bright sun shone in the blue heavens wdth an intenseness of brilliancy that was quite dazzling to the eyes, that elated the spii'its, and caused man and beast to tread w^ith a more elastic k .i: ■ 5 ll; (i M ^ j ^ 1 r ■ 1 ii ; ■ -' 1 ' ! i 1 VJi, i 'ii 310 RXOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS step than usual. AlUioiigli tlio sun looked ilmvn upon the scene with an unclouded face, and found a mirror in fvery icicle, and in every genu of hoarfrost with which the ulijccts of nut are wi.'re loaded, there was, however, no l)erceptil)le heat in his rays. They fell on the white earth with all the hrightness of niidsunimer, hut they fell powerless as moonbeams in the (had of winter. On the frozen river, just in front of the gate of the fort, a group of men antl dogs were assembled. The dogs were four in number, harnessed to a small Hat sledge of the slender kind usi^d by Indians to dnig their furs and provisions over the snow. The group of men wius com- posed of jNIr Rogan, and the inmates of Bachelors' Hall, one or two men who ha[)})ened to be engaged there at the time in cutting a new Wii.ter-hole in the ice, and an Indian, who, to judge I'rom his carefully adjusted costume, the snow-shoes on his feet, and the short whip in his hand, was the dri\er of the sledge, and was about to start on a journey. Harry Somerville and young Hamilton were also wrap))ed up more carefully than usual. " Good-bye, then, good-bye," said ]\Ir Rogan, advancing towards the Indian, who stood beside the leading dog, ready to start. "Take care of our young friends; they've not had much experience in travelling yet : and don't over- drive your dogs. Treat them well and they'll do more work. They're like men in that res[)ect." Mr Rogan shook the Indian by the hand, and the latter immediately flourished the whip and gave a shout, wdiich the dogs no sooner heard than they uttered a simul taneous yell, sprang forward with a jerk, and scampered up the river, closely followed by their dark-skinned driver. "Now, lads, farewell," said the old sentlemen, turning FKOM THE FAU NOUTII. 311 mvn U[)ou luiiTor in which the i\vcv(jr, no s^hite earth tlicy fell jate of the The dogs it sledge of r furs and 1 was coni- elors' Hall, diere at the CO, and an ed costume, lip in his out to start Hamilton advancing iading dog, ds; they've don't over- 11 do more Mr Rogan iimediately the dogs no rell, sprang '^er, closely 3n, turning with a kindly smile to our two friends, who were shaking hands for the last time with their comrades. '* I'm sorry you're going to leave us, my boys. You've done your duty well while here, and I would willingly h;ive kept you a little longer with m(>, hut our governor wills it othej'- wise. However, I trust that you'll l)e hii))])y wherever you may be sent. Don't forget t(j wiite to nu.' — (.»od 1 ) 1 OSS you — fare w (d 1 . " JNIr Rogan shook them heartily by the hand, tui-ned short round, and walked slowly up to his house, with an expression of sadness on his mild face, while JIarry and Hamilton, having once mor(! waved farewell to their friends, marched up the vlvov side by side in silence. They followed the track left by tlu; dog-sledge, which •iuided them with unerring certaintv, althouuh their Indian leader and his team W(;re oiit of sight in advance. A week previous to this time, an Indian arrived from the interior, bearing a letter lVt)m head-quarters, whicl directed that Messrs Somerville and Hamilton should be forthwith despatched on snow-shoes to Norway House. As this establiahment is about three hundi-ed miles from the sea-coast, the order involved a journey of nearly two weeks' duration, through a country that was utterly destitute of inhabitants. On receiving a command from Mr Rogan to pre})are for an early start, Harry retired pi'c- cipitately to his own room, and there, after cutting uidieard-of capers, and giving vent to sudden incompre- hensible shouts, all indicative of the highest state of delight, he condescended to tell his companions of his good fortune, and set about ])re})arations without delay. Hamilton, on the contrary, gave his usual rpiiet smile on beiniz informed of his destination, and, returning somo- ;i \i'J '•■'( I ; . ,.i i« ,n iMi; t • r 1 ¥ fi i 312 !:\0\VFLAKi:S AND SUNBEAMS what peiisivoly to Baclicloi's' I Jail, j)roccc(l(Ml leisurely to make the necessary arrangements for ck']»arture. As the time drew on, liowever, a ])erpetna,l Hush on liis counten- ance, and an unusual hrilliaucy about his eye, shewed that he was not ((uito inscnsihle to the pleasures of a change, and relished tlu.' idea more than lie got credit for. The Indian who had brought tlie letter was ordered to hold liimself in readiness to I'etracc his steps and conduct the young men througli the woods to Norway House, where thev were to await further orders. A few days later, the three travellers, as already related, set out on their iournev. After walking a mile up tlic river, they passed a point of laud whieli shut out the fort from view. Heve thev paused to take a last look, and tlien pressed fomvar;! in silence, the thoughts of each being busy with mingled recollections of their late home, and anticipations of the future. After an liour's sharp walking they came in siglit of the guide, and slackened their pace. "Well, Hamilton," said Harry, throwing off his reverie with a deep sigh, " are you glad to leave York Fort, or sorry 1 " " Glad, undoubtedly," replied Hamilton, " but sorry to part from our old companions there. I had no idea, Harry, that I loved them all so much ; I feel as if I should be glad were the order for us to leave them countermanded even now." "That's the very thought," said Harry, "that was passing through my own brain, when I spoke to you, Yet, somehow, I think I should be uncommonly soiry, after all, if we were really sent back. There's a queer contradiction, Hammy ; M^e're sorry and ]iap[)y at the I'ROM THE FAR NOliTlI. ns same time! IT 1 wfire the skipper, now, 1 would found a philosoplncal argument uf-on it." " Wliicli tlie skip[)er would carry on with untiring vigour," said Hamilton, smiling, "and aftenvards make an entry of in his log. ]jut I think, llarry, tliat to feel the emotion of sorrow and joy at the h^ame time is not such a contradiction as it .at first appears." "Perhaps not," rei)lied ]larry; "but it seems very contradictory to vie, and yot, it's an evidtmt fact — for I'm veri/ sorry to leave them, .-md I'm vcri/ happy to have yon for my companion here." " So am I, so am I," said the other, lioartily. " i would rather travel witli you, Harry, tliau with any of our late companions — although I like them all very much." The two friends had grown, almost imperceptibly, in each other's esteem during their residence under the same roof, more than either of tliem would have believed pos- sible. The gay, reckless hilarity of tlio one, did not at first accord with the quiet gravity, and, as his comrades styled it, softness, of the otlier. But character is frequently misjudged at first sight — and sometimes men, who, (.n a first acquaintance, h-ave felt repelled from each other, have, on coming to know each other better, discovered traits and good qualities that, ere long, formed enduring bonds of sympathy, and have learned to love those whom at first they felt disposed to dislike or despise. Thus, llarry soon came to know that what he at first thought, and, along with his companions, called, softness in Ham- ilton, was in reality gentleness of disposition, and thorongli good-nature, united in one who happened to be utterly unacquainted with the knowing ways of this peculiarly ^* f, « ;ni HMiWri.AKrS AND HL'Nni'.AMH 1 !|(r I! il If ' J! li slmrp and I'lcvor wofld ; wiiile, ir. tlu; conrso oi' tiino, iiuv* qu:ilitit'S slu'wcd tlicmsclvcs in a (inict, uiiobtrusivi! wa> that won upon lii.s alU'ctioiis and raised liis osttM'in. On tlu! otlici' liantl, llaniilt«>n t'onnd lliat, allhou^di l^aI•^y^vaM VMl.itilc, and possessed of ;in ii-nsislilil'' tcndtMicy to Inn and niiscliirf, he ncNci- l>y :iny e-liancc; ^axc Wiiy to .in^ci', or ;dloNVod nialict; to enter into his practical jokivs. Ind«'ed, ho often ol)sei'ved hi in I'estrain liis natni/al tendencies when they were at all likely to ,i;ive ])ain — tlion^'h JTiu-ry nev(!r dreamed that sneii eli'orts were known to anyone l)>it hinisell' ilesides this, Harry was pecnliarly inisc/jisli ; anil when a man is possessed of this inestimable dis[)osi- tion, he is, not qiiifc but rrr^ nc((r/'/, pin'fect! Alter another ))anse, during which the parly had lel't the open i-iver and directed their course throui^h the wo(«ls, where thedej)th of the snow ol)liu;ed them to tread in each oth(;r"s footsteps, Jfarry I'csumed the conversation. "You have not y<'t told me, by the; bye, what old '^\r Rofjan said to nou iust bel'orc we started. Did he give yon any hint as to whei'c yon might be sent to after reaching Norway House?" " No, lie merely said he knew that clerks W(;re wanted both for Mackenzie Iliver and the Saskatclunvan districts, bnt he did not know which I was destined for." " Hum ! exactly what he said to me, with the slight 5\ddition that he strongly suspected that JNIackenzie Riv(T wonld l)e my doom. Are yon aware, Harnmy, my boy, that the Saskatchewan district is a sort of terrestrial parndise, and Mackenzie Kiver eqnivalent to Botany Bay ? " " I liavc heard as mncli during our conversations in Bachelors' Hall, bnt Stop a bit, Harry, these snow FROM Tin: FAH NOKTIl. 316 iim>, n^'^* sivo wu) .•m. On lurry wan cy to fun to :ui:j,«'r, . In«UM'«l, tontlencit^ v^h } lurry ;.) ivny oiH! ly «/(,sr///W'," hlc (lisposi- ■ty liiul loft hvon:^l» the evil to trotul )UVcrsation. •Imt oUl Mr )i(l he give >ut to ai'ter Ivtjre waiitofl -an districts, Ir. [h the slight konzic RivtT |nv, my Vx^y, ]f terrestrial to Botany rersations in these snow rIioo lines of mine have gotlooa !- I i '■^■^ 322 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS Bbould Ly all means be happy, and if we can't be hap^)/ be as bappy as wc can. Is that it 1 " " Just so. That's it exactly." *' Ho ! But then, you see, Hamniy, you're a philosopher, and I'm not, and that makes all the difference. I'm not given to anticipating evil, but I cannot help dreading that they will send me to some lonely, swampy, out-of- the-way hole, where there will be no society, no shooting, no riding, no work even, to speak of, — nothing, in fact, but the miserable satisfaction of being styled 'bourgeois' by five or six men, wretched outcasts like myself" " Come, Harry," cried Hamilton, " you are taking the very worst view of it. There certainly are plenty of such outposts in the country, but you know very well that young fellows like you are seldom sent to such places." " I don't know that," interrupted Harry ; " there's young M 'An drew ; he was sent to an outpost up the Mackenzie his second year in the service, where he was all but starved, and had to live for about two weeks on boiled parchment. Then there's poor Forrester ; he was shipped off to a place — the name of which I never could remember — somewhere between the head waters of the Athabasca Lake and the North Pole. '2o be sure, he had good shooting, I'm told, but he had only four labour- ing men to enjoy it with ; and he has been there ten years now, and he has more than once had to scrape the rocks of that detestable stuff called in2}e de roche to keep himself alive. And then there's " " Very true," interrupted Hamilton ; " then there's your friend Charles Kennedy, whom you so often talk about, and many other young fellows we know, who liave FROM THE FAU NORTH, 323 )e happy ilosoplier, I'm not dreading )y, out-of- ) shooting, rr, in fact, bourgeois 3lf." taking the plenty of very well it to such ; " there's •st up the lere he was weeks on ir ; he was ever could Iters of the 10 sure, lie :)ur labour- [i there ten scrape the 'he to keep lien there's often talk who liave been sent to the Sixskatclicwan, and to tlic Columbia, and to Athabasca, and to a liost of other cajntal places, where they have enough of society — male society, at least — and good sport." The young men had climbed a rocky eminence, which commanded a view of tlic lake on the one side, and the fort, with its backgi'ound of woods, on the other. Here they sat down on a stone, and continued for some time to admire the scene in silence. " Yes," said Ilariy, resuming the thread of discoui-se, " you are right ; we have a good chance of seeing some pleasant parts of tlie country. But suspense is not plea- sant. Oh, man, if they would only send me up the Saskatchewan river ! I've set my heart upon going there. I'm quite sure it's the very best place in the whole country." " You've told the truth that time, master," said a deep voice beliind them. The young men turned quickly round. Close beside them, and leaning composedly on a long Indian fowling- piece, stood a tall, broad-shouldered, sun-burnt man, apparently about forty years of age. He was dressed in the usual leathern imnting coat, cloth leggins, fur cap, mittens, and moccasins, tliat constitute the winter garb of a hunter ; and had a grave, firm, but good-humoured ex- ]iression of countenance. " You've told the tnith that time, master," he repeated, without moving from his place. " The Saskatchewan is, to my mind, the best place in the whole country, and havin' seen a considerable deal o' places in my time, I can epeak from experience." "Indeed, friend," said Harry, "I'm glad to hear you J- M. r t m ''?. , h SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS li ' ) 1 1 ( 1 ;i ( I. say so. Come, sit down beside us, and let's lietu' some thing about it. TIius invited, the hunter seated himself on a stone, and laid his gun on the liollow of his left arm. " First of all, friend," continued Harry, " do you belong to the fort here 1 " ** No," replied the man, " I'm stayin' here just now, but I don t belong to the [)lace." " Where do you come from, then ; and what's your name 1 " *' Why, I've comed d'rcct from the Saskatchewan with a packet o' letters. I'm payin' a visit to the missionary village, yonder ; " the hunter pointed, as he spoke, across the lake; " and when the ice breaks up I shall get a canoe and )-eturn again." " And your name 1 " " Why I've got four or five names. Somehow or other, people have given me a nickname wherever I ha' chanced to go. But my true name, and the one I hail by just now, is Jacques Caradoc." " Jacques Caradoc !" exclaimed Harry, starting with sur- prise. " You knew a Charley Kennedy in the Saskat- chewfin, did you ] " " That did I. As fine a lad as ever pulled a trigger." " Give us your hand, friend," exclaimed Harry, spring- ing forward and seizing the hunter's large, hard fist in both hands. " Why, man, Charley is my dearest friend, and I had a letter from him some time ago, in which he speaks of you, and says you're one of the best fellows he ever met." "You don't say so," replied the hunter, returning tiarry's grasj) warmly, while his eyes sparkled with plea FROM TllK FAR NOUTII •62b •tins; witli sur- 5ure, and a quiet smile played at the corners of Lis uioutli. " Yes 1 do," said llarry, "and I'm very nearly as glad to meet with you, friend Jacques, as I would be to meet with him. But come. It's cold work talking here. Let's go to my room. There's a tire in the stove. Come ak)ng, Ilammy," and taking his new friend by the arm, he hur- rietl him along to his quarters in the fort. Just as they were passing under the fort gate, a large mass of snow became detached from a house-top, and fell heavily at their feet, passing within an inch of Ilamilton'L nose. The young man started back with an exclamation, and became very red in the face. " Hallo ! " cried Harry, laughing, " got a fright, Ham- my 1 That went so close to your chin, that it almost saved you the trouble of shaving." " Yes, I got a little fright from the suddenness of it," said Hamilton, quietly. " What do you think of my friend there 1 " said Harry to Jacques, in a low voice, pointing to Harailton, who walked on in advance. " I've not seen much of him, masti^r," repli ;d the hun- ter. " Had I been asked the same question about the same lad twenty years agone, I should ha' said he was soft, and perhaps chicken-hearted. But I've learned from ex- perience to judge better than I used to do. I niver thinks o' formin' an opinion o' any one till I've seen them calk'd to sudden action. It's astonishin' how some faint-hearted men will come to ilice a danger, and put on an awful look o' courage, if they only get warnin' — but take them by surprise ; that's the way to try them." " \W'll, Jacques, that is the very reason why I ask iill 32t) SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS :ti*' •": 1\: your opinion of Hamilton, ITo was pretty well taken b7 surprise that time, I think." " Tnio, niaster, but t/iat land o' start don't prove much, llows'ever, I don't think he's easy u})sct. He does look uncommon soft, and his face grew red when the snow fell, but his eyel)row and his undrr lip shewed that it wasn't from fear." During that afternoon and tlic greater part of that night the three friends continued in close convei-sation, Harry sitting in front of the stove, with his hands in liis pockets, on a chair tilted as usual on its hind legs, and [)ouring out volleys of questions, which were pithily an- swered by the good-humoured, loquacious hunter, who sat behind the stove, resting his elbows on his knees, and smoking his much-loved pipe; while Hamilton reclined on HaiTy's bed, and listened with eager avidity to anec- dotes and stories, which seemed, like the narrator's pipe, to be inexhaustible. " Good night, Jacques, good night," said Harry, as the latter rose at last to depart, " I'm delighted to have had a talk with you. You must come back to-morrow. I want to hear more about your friend Kedfeather. Wlierc did you say you left him 1 " " In the Saskatchewan, master. He said that he would wait there, as he'd heer'd the missionary was comin' up to pay the Injins a visit." " By the bye, you're going over to the missionary's place to-morrow, are you not ? " '' Yes, I am." " Ah ! then, that'll do. I'll go over with you. How far off is itr' *' Three miles, or thereabouts." M PllOM THE FAR NOIITH. 327 1 taken b^ rove much. e does look ) snow fell, it it wasn't art of that )nvei'sation, 1 anils in his id legs, and pithily an- iter, who sat knees, and bon reclined ity to anec- ■rator's pipe, [arry, as the have had a )w. I want Wlicrc did liat he would IS comin' up Imissionary's you. How "Very good. Call in hero as you pass, and my friend Marailton and I will accompany you. Good niglit." Jacques tlinjst his pipe into his bosom, hekl out his horny liand, and giving his young friends a hearty shake, turned and strode from the room. On tlie following day, Jacques called, according to pro- mise, and the three friends set off together to visit the Indian village. Tliis missionary station was under the management of a Wcsleyan clergyman, Pastor Conway by name, an excellent man, of about forty-five years of ago, with an energetic mind and body, a bald head, a mild, expressive countenance, and a robust constitution. He was admirably qualified for his position, having a natural aptitude for every sort of work that man is usually called on to perform. His chief care was for the instruc- tion of the Indians, whom he had induced to settle around him, in the great and all-important truths of Christianity. He invented an alphabet, and taught them to write and read their own language. He commenced the laborious task of translating the Scrij)tures into the Cree language ; and, being an excellent musician, he instructed his convei-ts to sing in parts the psalms and Wcsleyan hymns, many of which are exceedingly beautiful. A school was also established, and a clmrch built, under his superintendence, so that the natives assembled, in an orderly way, in a commodious sanctuary- every Sabbath-day, to worship God ; while the children were instructed, not only in the Scriptures, and made familiar with the narrative of the humiliation and exalt- ation of our blessed Saviour, but were also taught tlio elementary branches of a secular education. But good Pastor Conway's energy did not stop here. Nature had «1 (■!j J- I ) ill 1' mW' :i:- vl M 11 f ■ m .1 V ,' ■' i i: 32rt SNOWFI.AKES AND SUNBEAMS gifted him with that peculiar genius which is ])owf!rfiilly exjtrcssecl in the t(!rin, " a jact-of-(tl/-l7'atlcs." He could turn liis hand to anything; and heing, as wo liave said, an energetic man, ho did turn liis hand to almost every- thing. If anything hapjumed to get broken, the pastor could either mend it himself, or direct how it was to ho done. If a house was to be built for a new family of red nuni, who had never handled a saw or hammer in their lives, and had lived up to that time in tents, the pastor lent a hand to begin it, drew out the plan (not a very complicated thing, certainly), set them fairly at work, and kept his eye on it until it was finished. In short, the worthy pa.stor was everything to everybody, "that by all means he might gain some." Under such management, the village flourished, as a matter of course, although it did not increase very rapidly, owing to the almost unconquerable aversion of North Amercian Indians to take up a settled habitation. It was to this little hamlet, then, that our three friends directed their 8tej)S. On arriving, they found Pastor Conway in a sort of workshoj), giving directions to an Indian, who stood with a soldering-iron in one hand, and a sheet of tin in the other, which he was about to apply to a curious-looking half-finished machine, that bore some resemblance to a canoe. "Ah, my friend Jacques !" he exclaimed, as the hunter approached him, " the very man I wished to see ; but I beg i)ardon, gentlemen, — strangers, I perceive. You are heartily welcome. It is seldom that I have the pleasure of seeing new friends in my wild dwelling. Pray come with me to my house." Pastor Conway shook hands with Harry and Hamilton FllOM THE FAR NORTH. 329 lie couM lave aaiil, Dst cvcry- the ])!i.st()r SVJIS to lio family of laminer in tents, tlie )lan (not a I foirly at lislied. In everybody, •islied, as a ery rapidly, 1 of North ion. our three they found irections to 1 one hand, s about to c, tliat bore the hunter see ; but 1 You are the pleasure Pray come Id Hamilton TTitb a dcfjree of warmth tliat evinced the sincerity of liia words. Tlie young men thanked him, and accepted th'3 invitation. A.s they turned to quit the workshop, tlu? pa.stor observed Jac ^ues' eye lixed, with a puzzled expression of countenance, on liis ejinoe. " You have never seen anytliing like that before, I dare say," said he, with a smile. " No, sir ; I never did see such a fpieer machine afore." " It is a tin canoe, with n hich I hoi)e ■ ■ pass through many miles of country this tpriu^', on .ny way to visit a tribe of Northern Indians; anil it v, li about this very thing that I wanted to see yo;;, my l.itind." Jacques made no reply, but cast a look "ivouring very slightly of contempt on the unfinished canoe o they turned and went away. The pastor's dwelling stood at one end of the village, a view of which it commanded from the back windows, while those in front overlooked the lake. It was plea- santly situated, and pleasantly tenaniod, ft)r the pastor's wife was a cheerful, active, little lady, like-minded with himself, and delighted to receive and entertain strangei-s. To her care ]\Ir Conway consigned the young men, after spending a short time 'w conversation with them ; and then, requesting his wife o^ iiew them through the village, he took Jacipies by the arm, and sauntered out. " Come with me, T.cques," he began, " I liave some- what to say to yc i. I had not time to broach the subject when I met you at the Company's fort, and have been anxious to see you ever since. You tell me that you have met with my friend Hedfeather ?" " Yes, sir ; I spent a week or two with him la.st fall. MiiMMaBi I '"iilf liiii 1 ' i i >1! ;viJi I j 1:1 11 I f i ! H ;i ^1 i; !i f 330 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAM8 1 found liim stayiii' vnth. his tribe, and we started tc come diblu tella us not only to bear our enenues no grudge, Itut to love them and to do tlusm good." The hunter's brow darkened. " That's impossible, sir," he said ; " I couldn't do /liin a good turn if I was to try ever so luu\l. lEo may bless his stara that I don't want to do him mischief; but to love Iiini, it's jist imposs'ble." " With man it is impossible, but with God all things are possible," said the ]iastor, soleniidy. Jacques' naturally philosophic, though untutored mind, saw the force of this. He felt that Cod, who liad formed his soul, his body, and the wonderfully complicated ma- chinery and objects of nature, whieli were j)at(i!t to his observant and reflective mind wherever he wen , nuist, of necessity, be equally able to alter, influence, an-! re-mouM tfiem all according to In's will (/ornn)on sttise wn.s suf- * 332 .SN'OWFLAKES AND SUNUIOAMS n" it Ml .{ ;,r' m h '•h 1 1 ■ i 1 1 ficient to teach him this ; and the bold hunter exhibitcf) no ordinary anionnt of common sense in admitting the fact a,t once ; altliougli, in tlie case under discussion, (the loving of Ids enemy), it seemed utterly impossible to his feelings and experience. The frown, therefore, passed from his brow, wliile he said res})cctfully, " What you say, sir, is true ; I believe, though I can't feel it. But I s'pose the reason I nivor felt much drawn to the redskins is, tliat all the time I lived in the settlements, I was used to hear them called and treated as thievin' dogs, an' when I com'd among them I didn't see much to alter my opinion. Here an' there I have found one or two honest Injii'.s, an' Red- feather is as true as steel ; but the most o' them are no better than they should be. I s'pose I don't think much o' them just because they ai^e redskins." " Ah, Jacques, you will excuse me if I say that there is not much sense in that reason. An Indian cannot help being a red man any more than you can help being a white one, so that he ought not to be despised on that account. Besides, God made him what he is, and to de- spise the u'07'k of God, or to undervalue it, is to despise God himself. You may indeed despise, or rather, abhor, the sins that red men are guilty of ; but if you despise tlicm on this ground, you must much more despise white men, for t/ie?/ are guilty of greater iniquities than Indians are. They liave more knowledge, and are therefore more inexcusable when they sin ; and any one who has travelled much must be aware, that, in regard to general wickedness, white men are at least quite as bad as Indians. Dej)end upon it, Jacques, that there will be Indians found in heaven at the bust day as well as white men. God is no respecter of })crsona." FROM THE FAU XORTH. ?,:^'^ rr tlie fact he loving s feelings from Uis ay, sir, is s pose the IS is, that 5cd to hear en I coni'cl ion. Here -s, an E-ed- hcm are no think much that there is cannot help Ip being a sed on that and to de- is to despise ther, abhor, you despise cspise white than Indians lerefore more has travelled 1 wickedness, ns. Depend uis found in God is no " T nivor thoni^lit mucli on that subject afore, sir," eeturned the liuiitcr ; " what vou say seems reasonable enough. I'm sure an' sartin, any way, that if there's a redskin in heaven \i. all, Ut'd feather will be there, an" I only hope that I ni.'y')e tlujre too to kcej) him C()m])niiy." "I hope so, my t'rirnd," said the pastor, Oiirnestly, " I hope so too, with all my heart. And if you will accept of this little book, it will shew vou how to ijct there." The missionary drew a sm:dl, plainly-bound copy of the Uible from his pocket, as he spoke, and presented it to Jacrpies, who received it with a smile, and thanked him ; saying, at the same time, that he " was not much up to book-larnin', but ho would I'ead it with pleasure." " Now, Jacques," said the |)astor, after a little farther conversation on the subject of the l^ible, in which he endeavoured to impress upon him the absolute necessity of being acquainted with the blessed truths which it con- tains — " Kow, Jacques, about my visit to the Tndinus. I intend, if the Almighty spares nu^, to embark in you tin canoe that you found me engaged with, and, with six- men to work it, proceed to the country of the KnisliMieux Indians, visit their chief camp, and pn^acli to th(!m there as long as the weather will permit. When the season is pretty well advanced and winter threatens to cut off my retreat, I shall re-embark in my canoo and ivturn home. P)V this means I hope to be able to sow the good seed of Christian truth in the hearts of men, who, as they will not oome to this settlement, have no chance of being brought under the power of the gospel by any other means." Jacques gave one of his quiet snules on hearing this. " Ri"-ht sir, ricrht," he said, with some enercfv ; " I have nlwa^'S thought, altho\igh T nivcr made bold to .m;\v if ' 1 334 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS ill ) 11' .l \h ( .(. : .. !. ■I I. !:, I'' '( !' .. i« Vi I l^lll i 1 1 1 * ( t } i:. it ! f i|.l * - . Si J: } ft.: f '1,1 I "'1 • '4 n ,; '■^1 i before, that there was not cnoagli o' this sort o' thing. It lias always seemed to me a kind o' madness (excuse my plainness o' s[)eech, sir) in you pastors, thinkin' to mako the redskins come an' settle round you like so many squaws, and dig up an' grid) at the ground, when its quite clear that their natur' and the natur' o' things about them meant them to be hunters. An' surely since the Almighty made them hunters, He intcnided them to he huntei's, an' won't i-efuse to make them Christians on t/tat account. A redskin's natur' is a huntin' natur', an' nothin' on arth '11 ever make it anything else." " There is much truth in what you observe, friend," rejoined the pastor ; " but you are not altogether right. Their nature maij be changed, although, certainly, nothing on earth will change it. Look at that frozen lake." He pointed to the wide field of thick snow-covered ice that stretched out for miles like a sheet of white marble before them. " Could anything on earth break up or sink or melt that 1 " "Nothin'," replied Jacques, laconically. " But the warm beams of yon glorious sun can do it," continued the pastor, pointing upwards as he spoke, " and do it effectually too; so that, although you can scarcely observe the process, it nevertheless turns the hard, thick, solid ice into limpid water at last. So is it in regard to man. Nothing on earth can change his heart or alter his nature ; but our Saviour, who is called the Sun of righte- ousness, can. When he shines into a man's soul, it melts. The old man becomes a little child — the wild savage a Christian. But I agree with you in thinking that we have not been sufficiently alive to the necessity of seeking to con vert the Indians before trying to gather them round ua. FKOM TIFE FAll NOllTH. 33/ o' tiling. }xcuse my i' to inako ly sqiuuvs, ^uitc clear bout them ; Almighty untei-s, an 3count. A on ai-tli '11 vo, friend," -jether right. ily, nothing lake." Ho r(!(l ice that lite mai-ble reak up or li can do it," spoke, " and lean scarcely hard, thick, in regard to or alter his an of righte- pul, it melts, ild savage a that we have lekingtocon Im round us. The one would follow as a natural consequence, 1 tliink, of the other ; and it is owing to this conviction that I intend, as I have already said, to make a journey in spring to visit those who will not or cannot come to visit me; and now, wliat I want to ask is, whether you will agree to accompany me as steersman and guide on my exp(!dition 1 " The hunter slowly shook his licad. "I'm afcord nut, sir j I have already promised to take charge of a canoe for the Company. I would much rather go witli you, hut I must keep my word." " Certainly, Jacques, certaiidy,that settles the question, you oannot go with me — unless " the pastor paused as if in thought for a moment — " unless you can persuade them to let you off." " Well, sir, I can try," returned Jacques. " Do, and I need not say how happy I shall be if you succeed. Good day, friend, good-hyc;" so saying, the missionary shook hands with the hunter, and returned to his house, while Jacques wended his way to the village in search of Hany and Hamilton. % * f 330 8>0WFLAK):S AND 3UNBEAMS CHAPTEll XXV. Good news and romantic scenery ; be;ir-liunting and its rcsultd. i ' I f \i:iS ■' ■H h „. Jacques I'ailcd in liis attempt to break off liis engagement witli tlie fur-traders. The gentleman in cliarge of Norway House, albeit a good-natured, estimable man, was one who could not easily brook (li.saj>i)ointment, especially in matters that invohed the interests of the Hudson's Bay Company ; so Jacques was obliged to hold to his compact, and the pastor had to search for another guide. Spring came, and with it the awakening (if we may use the expression) of the country from the lung, lethargic sleep of winter. The sun burst forth with irresistible power, and melted all before it. Ice and snow quickly dissolved, and set free the waters of swamp and river, lake and sea, to leap and sparkle in their new-found liberty. Birds renewed their visits to the regions of the north ; frogs, at last unfrozen, opened their leathern jaws to croak and whistle in the marshes; and men began their preparations for a summer campaign. At the commencement of the season an express arrived with letters from head-quarters, which, among other matters of impoi-tance, directed that Messi*s Somerv^lle and Hamilton should be despatched forthwith to the SaskatcheAvan district, where, on reaching Fort I itt, they were to place themselves at the disposal of the gentleman FUUM THK FAIl NOUTJl. 337 liable man, iu charge of the district. It need scarcely be added that the young men were overjoyed on receiving this almost unhoped-for intelligence, and that HaiTy expressed hia satisfaction in his usual hilarious manner, asserting some- what profanely, in the excess of his glee, that the govemor- in-chief of Rupert's Land was a "regular brick." Hamilton agreed to all his friend's remarks with a quiet smile, accompanied by a slight chuckle, and a somewhat des- perate attempt at a caper, which attempt, bordering as it did on a region of buffoonery into which our quiet and gentlemanly friend had never dared Idtherto to venture, proved an awkward and utter failure. He felt this and blushed deeply. It was further arranged and agreed upon that the young men should accompany Jacques Caradoc in his canoe. Having become sulhciently expert canoe-men to handle their paddles well, they scouted the idea of taking men with them, and resolved to launch boldly forth at once as bond-fide voyageurs. To this an-angement, Jacques, after one or two trials to test their skill, agreed ; and very shortly after the arrival of the express, the trio set out on their voyage, amid the cheei's and adieus of the entire population of Norway House, who were assembled on the end of the wooden wharf to witness their departure, and with whom they had managed, during their short residence at that place, to become special favourites. A month later, the pastor of the Indian village, having procured a trusty guide, embarked in his tin canoe with a crew of six men, and followed in their track. In process of time, spring merged into summer, — a sea.son chiefly characterised, in those clines, »:f». :^ i H- i; I'' ) ; is. ■'; I ; ■>] I ' i : n j;'nFi:-l| I ■ ■If i I i I ! i:J. ' ! 1 [J if I i ! 338 SNOWFLAKKS AND SUNBEAMS heat and ininiinerable clouds of mosquitoes, whose vicioua and incessant attacks render life, for the time being, a burden. Our three voyageurs, meanwhile, ascended the Saskatchewan, ponoti'ating deeper each day into the heart of the North American continent. On arriving at Fort Pitt, tliey were graciously permitted to rest for three days, after which they were forwarded to another disti-ict, where fresh eflbrts were being made to extend the fur trade into lauds hitherto almost unvisited. Tliis con- tinuation of their travels was quite suited to the tastes and inclinations of llairy and Hamilton, and was hailed by them as an additional reason for self-gratulation. As for Jactjues, he cared little to what part of the world he chanced to be sent. To ])unt, to toil in rain find in sun- shine, in heat and in cold, at tlio paddle or on the snow- shoe, was his vocation, and it mattered little to the bold hunter whether ho i)lied it upon the plains of the Saskatchewan, or among the woods of Athabasca. Besides, the coni})anions of his travels Avere young, active, bold, adventurous ; and, therefore, quite suited to his taste. Redfeather, too, his best and dearest friend, had been induced to return to his tribe for the pur})ose of mediat- ing between some of the turbulent members of it, and the white men who had gone to settle among them, so that the prospect of again associating Avith his red friend was an additional element in his satisfaction. As Charley Kennedy was also in this district, the hope of seeing him once more was a subject of s\icli miljounded delight to Harry Somerville, and so, sympathetically, to young Hamilton, that it Avas Avith difficulty they could realise the full amount of their good fortune, or give adequate expression to their feelings. Tt is therefore proljable that S i; FROM THE FAR NORTH. 339 c vicioiia being, a uled tlio into the riving at for tliroe •: district, 1 the fur 111 is con- tlio tastes vas hailed ,tion. As : worhl he lid in svin- the snow- io tlie bold [13 of the |{i. Besides, ;tive, bold, his taste. had been |of mcdiat- it, and the ;ni, so that ifriend was s Charley seeing him delight to to young luld realise adequate )bable that fliere never were tliree ]ia})jtier travellei-s than Jacques, Harry, and ILiiiiilton, as they sliouldered tlieir guns and paddles, sliook liands witli tlie inmates of Fort Fitt, and, witli liglit stej)s and ligliter liearts, launched their canoe, turned tlicir l)ronzcd ftices once more to the summer sun, and dijipod tlieir paddles again in the ri})pling waters (»f the Saskatchewan river. As their Ijark was exceedinijjlv small, and bui-thened with but little laartie'lar s|)ot on arth, that I don't care to settle down in tliis one, beautiful thouirh it b'\" " Tnie, true," niuttennl ifarry, "man's a gregarious animal, tliere's no doubt of that." " Anon ? " exclaimed Jacques. " I meant to say that man naturally loves company," replied Harry, smiling. " An' yit I've seen some as didn't, master, though to be sure that was onnat'ral, and there's not many o' them, by good luck. Yes, man's fond o' seein' the face o' man." " And woman too," interrupted Harry. " Eh ! Hamil- ton, what say you ? — ' \vo!ii:m I ill our liours of ease. Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, When pain and anguish wring tiie brow, A ministering un;:el tliou !' Alas! IJammy, pain and anguish and everything else may wring our unfortunate brows here long enough before woman, ' lovely woman,' will come to our aid. What a rare siglit it would be, now, to see even an ordiiuiry house-maid or a cook out here ! It would be good for sore eyes. It seems to me a sort of horrible untruth to say that I've not seen a woman since I left Red River- and yet it's a frightful fact, for I don't count the cop})er- coloured nondescripts one meets with hereabouts io be women at all. I suppose they are, but they don't look like it." " Don't be a goose, Harry," said Hamilton. I ZV2 SNO\VI'r,AKi:S axd pundkams M' 1 li^ i- (( i M I . '; ! ; .) 1 ! r! I D ! 1 .1 !.i ! t i ', 1 ■ : ' j III :i *• CVrt.'iinly not, my friend If I wcro under the diw ai^re(?iil)lo necessity of being anytliin*^ l>ut wli.it I am, I ghoiild ratlier bo sonietliing tliat is not in tlio habit of being sliot," rejdicul tlic otlier, pathliing with renewed vigoiir ill order to got rid of som(! of tlm superabundant spirits tliat tlic beautiful scone and l)riliiant we:i,ther, act- ing on a young and ai'dent nature, Iiad caUcd foi'th. " Some of these same redskins," remarked the guide, " arc not sucli bad sort o' women, for all their ill looks. I've know'd more than one tliat was a iirst-rato wife, an' a good motlier ; tlumgli it's true they had little edica- tion, b(!yond that o' the woods." " No doubt of it," re})lied Harry, laughing gaily. " How shall I keep the canoe's head, Jacques 1 " " liight away for tlie pint that lies jist between you an' the sun." " Yes ; I give them nil credit for being excellent waives and mothers, after a fashion," resumed Harry; "I've no wish to asperse the character of the poor Indians ; but you must know, Jacques, that they're very different from the women that I allude to, and of whom Scott sung. His heroines were of a vcr>/ dilTercnt stamp and colour ! " " Did /le sing of niggers?" inquired Jacques, simply. " Of niggers !" shouted Harry, looking over his shoulder at Hamilton, with a broad grin ; " no, Jacques, not exactly of niggers " " Hist ! " exclaimed the guide, with that peculiar sub- dued energy that at once indicates an unexpected dis- covery, and enjoins caution, while, at the same moment, by a deep, powerful back-stroke of his paddle, he sud- denly chocked the rapid motion of the canoe. 1.1 THOM THK KAU NOK/'It 343 llcnt wives Ilan-y uiul las IVieiul glaiiccil quickly over tiicu ehouMera wiili a look of sur[»risc. " What's ill the wind now?" wliisponvl tlie formor. " Stop )):uMling, nuustcrs, and lodl: ulicad at (ho rock yondor, jist under tho tiill olifV. 'I'lieru's a hear a-.sittin there, an' if wo can only gft to shore afore he sees ns, we're sartiu sure of him." As the guide spoke, he slowly etlgcd the canoo towai'ds the shore, while the young intjn ga/ed with cagtr looks in the direction indicated, where tiny lichciil wliat ajipeared to bo the decayed stump of an old tree, or a mass of brown rock. While they strained their eyes to see it more clearly, the object altered it's form and position. " So it is," they exclaimed, simultanecMily, in a tone that was equivalent to the remark, " Now we believe, because we sec it." In a few seconds the bow of the canoe touched the land, so lightly as to be quite inaudible, aud Harry, stepping gently over the side, drew it forward a couple of feet, while his companions disembarked. " Now, Mister ]l;irry," said the guide, as he slung a powder-horn and shot -belt over his shoulder, " we've no need to circumvent the beast, for he's circumvented hisself." "How so?" inquired the other, drawing the shot from his fowling-piece, and substituting in its ])lace a leaden bullet. Jacques led the way through the somewhat thinly scattered undenvood, as he re})lied, " You see, Mister Harry, the place where he's gone to sun hisself is jist at the foot o' a shear j)reci[>ice, which runs round ahead of him, and juts o\it into the water, so that he's got three % f t i;. If ill IM J ■ 1:: i: SNOV, FLAKES AND SUNBKAMS (vays to choose bet"\voen. He must clamber up the preci- pice, wluch'U take him some time, I guess, if lie can do it at all ; or he must take to the; water, whi(3]i he don't like, and won't do if he can help it ; or he must run out the way he w(,'nt in, Ijut ns we shall go to nu^et him by the same road, he'll have to break our ranks before he iraiiis the woods, an' tf/((t '11 be no easy job." The party soon reached the narrow pass, between the lake and the near end of the cliff, where they advanced with greater caution, and, peeping over the low bushes, beheld bruin, a large broAvn fellow, sitting on his haunches, and rocking himself slowly to and fi-o, as he gazed ab- stractedly at the water. He was scarcely within good shot, but the cover was sufficiently thick to adm'o of a nearer approach. " Now, Haniilton," said Harry, in a low whisper, " take the first shot. T killed the last one, so it's your turn this time," Hamilton hesitated, but could make no reasonable objection to this, although his unselfish nature prom])ted him to let his friend have the first chance. However, Jaccpies decided the matter, by saying, in a tone that savoured strongly of command, althouo-li it was accom- panied with a good-humoured smil(> — " Go for'ard, young man; but you may as well put in the primin' lii'st." Poor Hamilton hastily rectified this oversight, A»Mth a deep blush, at the same time muttering that he never would make a hunter; and then advanced cautiously through the bushes, slowly followed at a short distance by his companions. On reaching a bush witliin seventy yards of the bear. FKOM I'lIE FAR NORTH. 3t5 iraiiiiltou piLsiieU the tNvigs aside with thu luiizzle of his gim ; his eye fltushed, and liis courage mounted, as ho gazed at the truly formidahle animal before him, and he fiilt more of tlie hunter h synrit within him at that moment than he would have believed |)ossil)le a few minutes l)efore. CJiifortunately, a huntci-'s spirit docs not necessarily im])ly a hunter's eye or hand. Having with much care, and long time, l)rought his ])iece to bear exactly where he supposed the; brute's heart should i>'\ he observed that the j^un was on half-cock, by nearlv break- ing the trigger in his convulsive elforts to fire. ]iy the time that this error was rectified, bruin, who seemed to feel intuitively that some imminent danger threatened him, rose, and began to move about uneasily, which so alarmed the young hunter lest he should lose his shot, that ho took a hasty aim, fired, and viissed. ITarry asserted afterwards that he even missed the clilF! On hearing the loud re[)ort, which rolled in ei-hoes along the jireci- pice, bruin started, and, loftking round with an undcciiled air, saw ITarry step quietly from the buslu's, and fire, sending a ball into his flank. This decided him. With a fierce growd of pain, he scampered towards the water ; then, changing his mind, he wheeUnl round, and dashed at the cliff, up which he scrambled with wondei-fid sp(M'd. "Come, Mister Hamilton, load again; rpiick. Til have to do the job myself, I fear," said Jacques, as he leaned quietly on his long gun, and, with a half-pitying smile, watched the young man. who madly essayed to i-o- charge his piece more rapidly than it was p )ssible for mortal man to do. Meanwhile, Harry had re-loaded and fired again ; but, owing to the jxa-turbation of hi.s young spirits, andthe frantic cifVortsof tho1)earto escape, he missed f Ifi! ■ )■ I 34G SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBP:AM'J 1' Another moment, and the animal would actually have reached the top, when Jacques hastily fired, and brought it tumbling down the precipice. Owing to the position of the animal at the time he fired, the wound was not mortal; and, foreseeing that bruin would now become the aggressor, the hunter began rapidly to re-load, at the same time retreating with his companions, who, in their excitement, had forgotten to re-charge their pieces. On reach- ing level ground, bruin rose, shook himself, gave a yell of anger on beholding his enemies, and rushed at them. It was a fmo sight to behold the bearing of Jacques at this critical juncture. Accustomed to bear-hunting from his youth, and utterly indillerent to consequences when danger became imminent, he saw at a glance the probabili- ties of the case. lie knew exactly how long it would take him to load Ids gun, .and regulated his paee so as not to ijiterfere with that operation. His features wore their usual calm expression. Every motion of his hands wjia (piick and sudden, yet not hurried, but performed in a way that led the beholder irresistibly to imagine that he could have done it cNcn more rapidly if necessar}'. On reaching a ledge of rock that overhung the lake a few feet, he })aused, and A\heeled about, — click went the dog- head, just as the boar rose to grapple with him, — another moment, and a bullet passed through the brute's heart, while the bold hunti'r s})rang lightly on one side, to avoid the d;ish of the falling animal. As he did so, young Hamilton, who had stood a little behind hi^.a with an up- lifted axe, ready to finish the work should Jacques' fire prove inefTectivo, rt.'ceived \ ruin iii his arms, and tumbled along with him over tiie rock, lieadlong into the wat>3r, I I i I FROM THE FAR NOUTri. 347 [ally have brouglit it >ositioii of ot mortal ; aggressor, same time xcitcment, On reacli- If, gave a ruslied at Jacques at Anting from cnces wlien le probabili- \(f it wouUl pace so aa tvircs Avore his hands cr formed in nagiue that f necessary, lake a !x'W ;nt the dog- i, — another •iitc's heart, do, to avoid I so, young with an up- accpies' fire iTul tumbled \) the \^'at<3r, from which, liowever, he speedily arose unhurt, spluttering and coughing, and dragging the dead l)ear to the shore. "Well done, Hammy," shouted Harry, indulging in a prolonged peal of laughter, when ho ascertained that his friend's adventure had cost him nothing more than a ducking ; " that was the most amicable, loving plunge 1 ever saw." *^ Better a cold bath in the arms of a dead bear, than an embrace on dry land with a live one," retorted Hamilton, as he wrung the water out of his dripping gaimenta. " Most true, sagacious diver ! But the sooner we get a fire made the better ; so come along." While the two friends hastened up to the woods to kindle a fire, Jacques drew his hunting-knife, and, with doffed coat and upturned sleeves, was soon busily em- ployed in divesting the bear of his natural garment. The carcase, being valueless in a country where game of a more palatable kind was plentiful, they left behind as a feast to the wolves. After this was accomplished, and the clothes dried, they re-embarked, and resumed their journey, plying the paddles energetically in silence, aa their adventure had occasioned a considerable loss of time. It was late, and the stars had looked doAvn for a full hour into the profound depths of the now dark lake, ere the party reached the ground at the other side of the point, on which Jacques had resolved to encamp. Jicinu' somewhat wearied, they spent but little lime in discuss- ing supper, and partook of that meal with a degree of energy that implied a sense of duty as well as of j)lea- Hure. Shortly after, they were buried in repose, under the scanty shelter of their canoe. 23 (/*' j'li'" I ''' 348 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNm':AMS m CHAPTER XXVI. An ntiexpected meeting, and an unexpected deer-hunt; arrival at tlie ontposrt difiagreement with the nati\es; an enemy discovered, and a murder. |-< ' i i: I. f II It! Next morning, thoy rose -svith the sun, and, therefore, also with the birds and beasts. A wide traverse of the lake now lay before them. Tliis they crossed in about two hours, during which time they paddled unremittingly, as the sky looked rather lowering, and they were well aware of the danger' of being caught in a storm in such an egg-shell craft as an Indian canoe. " We'll j)ut in here now, ]\Iister Harry," exclaimed Jacques, as the canoe entered the mouth of one of those small rivulets, which are called in Scotland, hams, and in Amoica, creeks ; " it's like that your appetite is sharpened after a spell like that. Keep her head a little more to the left — straight for the pint — so. It's likely we'll get some fish here if we set the net." " I say, Jacques, is yon a cloud or a wreath of smoke above the trees in the creek ?" inquired Harry, pointing with his paddle towards the object referred to. "It's smoke, master; I've seed it for some time, and mayhap we'll find some Injins there who can give us news of the traders at Stoney-creek." "And, pray, how far uo you think we may now be from that place ? " inquired Harry. A, m FROM THE FAR NORTH. 349 at tlic ontpost , a murder. a, therefore, before them. cf which time ooked rather he danger oi 11 craft as an ly," exclaimed one of those hums, and in e is sharpened little more to kely we 11 get 3ath of smoke tarry, pointing Ito. pme time, and \^ can give us li mav now he " Forty miles, more or less." As he spoke, the canoe entered the shallow watei" of tlic creek, and began to ascend the current of the stream, which at its mouth was so sluggish as to be scarcely per- ceptible to the eye. Not so, however, to the arms. Tlic light bark, which, while floating on the lake, liad glicu'd buoyantly forward as if it were itself consenting to the motion, had now become apparently ind)ued with a spirit of contradiction, bounding con\idsively forward at eacli stroke of the j)addles, and perceptibly losing speed at each interval. Directing their course towards a flat rock on tlie left baidc of the stream, they ran the prow out of the water and leaped ashore. As they did so, the unexj)ected figure of a man issued from the bushes and sauntered towards the spot. Harry and Hamilton advanced to meet him, while Jacques remained to unload tiie canoe. The stj-an- ger Avas habited in the usual dress of a hunter, and carricrl a fowling-])iecc over his i-iglit shoulder. In general appearance, he looked like an Indijin ; but, though the face was burn"*" by exposure to a hue that nearly equalled the red skins of the natives, a strong dash of pink in it, and the mass of fair hair which encircled it, proved that, as Harry paradoxicall}'- expressed it, its owner was a ichite man. He was young, considerably above the middle height, and apj)arently athletic. His address and language, on approaching the young men, put the question of his being a ivhite m.nn beyond a doubt. " Good morning, gentlemen," he began. " I presume that you are the party we have been expecting for some time past to reinforce our staflTat Stoney-creek. Is it not RO?" To this query, young Somerville, who stood in ml- ''■;) : If'- ■^^^sBillli 11 it ', I hi i : ,1 I I I ' 1.1' 1^ ii m 350 SNOWFT.AKES AND SUNBEAMS vanoc of his fri(nid^ ma ie no reply, Init, steppiri«:^ ha,stil)/ forward, laid a hand on each of the stranger's shoidders, and gazed earnestly into his face ; exclaiming as he did so — " Do my eyes deceive me ? Is Charley Kennedy be- fore me — or his ghost f " "What ! eh !" exclaimed the individual thus addressed, returning Ilariy's gripe and stare with interest, "is it possible! no — it cannot — Harry Somerville, my old, dear, unexpected friend ! " — and, pouring out broken sentences, abrupt ejaculations, and incoherent questions, to which neither vouchsafed replies, the two friends gazed at and walked round each other, shook hands, j)Mrtially embraced, and committed sundry other extravagances, utterly uncon- scious of, or indifferent to the fact, that Hamilton was gazing at them, open-mouthed, in a species of stupor, and that Jacques was standing by, regarding them ^vitll a look of mingled amusement and satisfactioa The discoveiy of this latter personage was a source of renewed delight and astonishment to Charley, who was so much upset by the commotion of his spirits, in consequence of this, so to speak, double shot, that he became rambling and incohe- rent in his speech, during the remainder of that day, and gave vent to frequent and sudden bursts of smothered en- thusiasm, in which it would appear, from the occasional muttering of the names of Redfeather and Jacques, that he not only felicitated himself on liis own good fortune, but also anticipated renewed pleasure in witnessing the joyful meeting of these two worthies ere long. In fact, this meeting did take place on the following day, when Redfeather, returning from a successful hunt, with part of a deer on his shoulders, entered Charley's tent, in which FltOM THE FAR NORTH. 351 ing hastily shoulders, rr as he did ennedy be- s addressed, jrest, "is it ly old, dear, m sentences, IS, to which ;azed at and iy embraced, tterly uncon- [amilton was ^f Htupor, and i\ with a look discoveiy of delight and |upset by the f this, so to and incohe- hat day, and mothered en- Ihe occasional acques, that good fortune, itnessing the ins. In fact, |ng day, when ,, with part of nt, in which the travellers had spent tlie previous day and night, and discovered the guide gravely discussing a venison steak before the fire. It would be vain to attempt a description of all tliat the re-united friends said and did during the first twenty- f(jur houi*s after their meeting ; — how they talked of old times, as they lay extended round the fire, inside of Char- ley's tent, and recounted their adventures by flood and field since they last met ; — how they sometimes diverged into questions of speculative philosophy, (as conversations ivill often diverge, whether we wish it or not), and broke short off to make sudden inquiries after old friends; — how this naturally led them to talk of new friends, and new scenes, until they began to forecast their eyes a little into the future ; and how, on feeling that this was an uncon- genial theme under present circumstances, they reverted again to the past, and, by a peculiar train of convei'sation, — to retrace which were utterly impossible, — they invari- ably arrived at old times again. Having in coui'se of the evening pretty well exhausted their powers, both mental and physical, they v;ent to sleep on it, and resumed the colloquial melange in the morning. " And now tell me, Charley, what you are doing in this uninhabited part of the world, so far from Stoney- creek," said Harry Somerville, as they assembled round the fire to bxeakfast. " That is soon explained," replied Charley. " My good friend and superior, Mr Whyte, having got himself com- fortably housed at Stoney-creek, thought it advisable to establish a sort of half outpost, half fishing-station about twenty miles belo"^ the new fort, and, believing (very justly) tliat my talents lay a good deal in the way offish- f j1 ^ J it .' .1 ■ i i ll'f I Mm • ■!:■ ■ i f li ri ) i: i't:: ! 352 8N0WFLAKKS AND SUNBEAMS ing and shooting, sent nie to .siiporhituud it during the summer mouths. I am, theretbro, at present monarch of tliat notable establishment, which is not yet digniiied with a name. Hearing tliat there were plenty of deer about twenty miles below my palace, I resolved the ' ^1 O 7 /A Photographic Sciences Corporation s. ^ V 4 V \\ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ^9> .V 6^ '^ % %'■ M^ Jf-> ^ ///„ Q'., C/a u\ [i I I J - i 'IS-,' 11f , A i f FROM THE FAR NORTH. 356 our hunt as his own. We should not have got the deer but for him." " True, time, Mister Charles. They belong to the redskin by rights, that's sartin." After this exploit, another night was passed under the trees ; and at noon, on the day following, they ran their canoe alongside the wooden wharf, at Stoney- creek. " Good day to you, gentlemen," said Mr Wh^i;e to Harry and Hamilton as they landed ; *' I've been looking out for you these two weeks past. Glad you've come at last, however. Plenty to do, and no time to lose. You have dispatches, of course. Ah ! that's right," (Harry drew a sealed packet from his bosom, and presented it with a bow) " that's right. I must peruse these at once. Mr Kennedy, you will shew these gentlemen their quarters. We dine in half an hour." So saying, Mr Whyte thrust the packet into his pocket, and, without further remark, strode towards his dwelling, while Charley, as instructed, led his friends to their new residence ; not forgetting, however, to charge Kedfeather to see to the comfortable lodgment of Jacques Caradoc. " Now it strikes me," remarked Harry, as he sat down on the edge of Charley's bed, and thiiist his hands dog- gedly down into his pockets, while Hamilton tucked up his sleeves and assaulted a washhand-basin, which stood on an unpainted wooden chair in a corner, " it strikes me that if that's his usual style of behaviour, old Whyte is a pleasure that we didn't anticipate." " Don't judge from first impressions, they're often deceptive," spluttered Hamilton, pausing in his ablutions to look at his friend through a mass of soap-suds, — an act f tf 5^ ^ ] i. jl' 1' ( '"' '■ 5 1: ( " i 1 I -4' i : I . i ! i; 1 ;i ^i '1^ ' 35C SNOWKLAKES AND SUNBEAMS which afterwards cost liiiii a gfxxl (k'ul of pain and a copious How of uiil)id(h.'U tears. *' liight," exclaiined Charley, witli an approving nod to Hamilton. " Y silently surveycil the group. "So," ho began, "you havi; asked to speak with me : well — here I am. What have you to say 1 " Mr Whyte addressed the Indians in their native tongue, having, during a long residence in the country, learned to speak it as fluently as English. For some moments there was silence. Then an old chief — the same who had officiated at the feast described in a former chapter — rose, and, standing forth into the middle of the room, made a long and grave oration, in which, besides a great deal that was bombastic, much that was iiTelevant, and more that wius utterly fabulous and nonsensical, he recounted the sorrows of himself and liis tribe, concluding with a request that the gi'eat chief would take these things into consideration — the principal '^things" being, that they did not get anything in the shape of gratuities, while it was notorious that the In- dians in other districts did, and that tliey did not get enough of goods in advance, on credit of their future hunts. Mr Whyte heard the old man to the end in silence ; then, without alutiing his position, he looked round on the assembly with a frown, and said — " Now, listen to me : I am a man of few words. I have told you over and over again, and I now repeat it, that you shall got no gratuities until you prove yourselves worthy of them ; I shall not increase your advances by so much as half an inch of tobacco, till your last year's debts are scored off, and you begin to shew more activity in huntinr*- and less disposition to grumble. Hitherto you have not brought in anything like the quantity of furs that the capabilities t, ' ^i'i ■ f i i 1 i bi 1 III . ] 1 , 1 . t 1 ,1' : Ki,- I. I, ; h ■'■', ^■' i' i ant 3G2 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS of tlio country Ind mo to expect. You are lazy. Until you become better hunters, you sliall have no redros.s from me." As ho fmished, Mr Whyto made a step towards the door by which he had entered, but was arrested by an- other chief, who requested to be heard. Resuming liis place and attitude, Mr Whyto listened with an expression of dogged determination, while guttural grunts of unequi- vocal dissatisfaction issued from the throats of several of the malcontents. The Indian proceeded to repeat a few of the remarks made by his predecessor, but more con- cisely, and wound up by explaining that the failure in the hunts of the previous year was owing to the will of the Great Manito, and not by any means on account of the supposed laziness of himself or his tribe. " That is false," said Mr Whyte ; " you know it is not true." As this was said, a murmur of anger ran round the apartment, which was interrupted by Misconna, who, apparently unable to restrain his passion, sprang into the middle of the room, and, confronting Mr Whyte, made a short and pithy speech, accompanied by vio- lent gesticulation, in which he insinuated that, if redress was not granted, the white men would bitterly repent it. During his speech, the Indiana had risen to their feet and drawn closer together, while Jacques and the three young men drew near their superior. Kedfeather re- mained apart, motionless, and with his eyes fixed on the ground. " And, pray, what dog — what miserable tliieving cur are you, who dai-o to address me thus?" cried Mr Whyte. azy. Until no re dross towards the 3sted by an- esuming his ,n expression bs of unequi- of several of repeat a few t more con- le failure in the will of n account of now it is not ,n round the iconna, who, sprang into Mr Whyte, lied by vio- led that, if )uld bitterly bo their feet id the three 3dfeather re- fixed on the bliieving cur Mr Whyte. rUOM THE FAR NOUTIl. 3r,3 as ho strode, with fljusliing eyes, up to the enragt'd Iii with a loud crash to the ground. For an instant every one stood aghast at tliis precij)i- tate termination to the discussion, and then, springing forward in a body, withdrawn knives, the Indians nished upon the white men, wlio, in a close phalanx, with such weapons as came first to hand, stood to receive them. At this moment Hedfeatlicr stopped forward unarmed be- tween the belligerents, and turning to tlie Indians, said — "Listen! llcdfeather docs not take the part of his white friends against his comrades. You know that he never failed you in the war-}>ath, and he would not fail you now if your cause were just. lUit the eyes oi" his comrades are shut. Redfeather knows what they do not know. The white hunter" (pointing to Jacques) "Is a friend of Ilcidfeathcr. lie is a friend of the KnistomMnc. 24 ^A * 1! 004 RN'OVVn.AKKa AND SUNDRAMS T , J I II •\ \ I i , *th I: ^1 ^,!' I ■■;■■ I ? I:: 1.1 i r IT© did not strike l)ccauso you disputed witli his bour- geois; lio stnick because Misconna is /lis mortal /db. But the story is long. Redfeathcr will tell it at the council fire." " lie is right," exclaimed Jaci^ues, who had recovered his usual grave expression of countenance, "Redfeather is right. I l)ear you no ill-will, Injins, and I shall ex})lain the thincc mvself at your council fire." As Jacques spoke, the Indians sheathed their knives, and stood with frowning brows, as if uncertain what to do. The unexpected interference of their comrade in arms, coupled with his address and that of Jacques, had excited their curiosity. Perhaps the undaunted depoi*t- raent of their opponents, who stood ready for the en- counter with a look of stern determination, contributed a little to allay their resentment. While the two parties stood thus confronting each other, as if uncertain how to act, a loud report was heard just outside the doorway. In another moment, MrWhyte fell lieavily to the ground, shot through tlie heart. FROM THE FAK NOIITU. 306 th hi a bonr- al foe. Bvit t the council ad recoven'd llcdft-athor is sli;iU explain their knivoa, L'tain what to ' comrade in Jacques, had intcd deport- y for the en- contributed a Touting each ort was heard nt, MrWliyte heart. ClTAPTKTl XXVri. Tho chah«s; tlio fight; retribution. Low siiirits and Roort news. The traiiical end of tlie consultation reflated in tlie last cliaptcr, had tlie elfcct of iinnu'diately reconcilini^ the dis- putants. Witli the exc(!ption of four or five of the nuist depraved and discontented among them, the Indiiins bore no pai-ticular ill-will to the unfortunate principal of Stoney-creek ; and, although a good deal disappointed to find that lie was a stern, unyielding trader, tlu^y had, in reality, no intention of coming to a serious rupture with him, much less of laying violent hands either upon master or men of the establishment. When, therefore, they beheld ^Nlr Wliyte weltering in his blood at their fe(;t, a sacrifice to the umjovcrnalile passion of Mlsconna, who was by no means a favourite among his brethren, their temporary anger was instantly dissipated, and a feeling of deepest indignation roused in their bosoms against the miserable assassin who had perpetrated the base and coM'ardly murdt.'r. It was, therefore, with a yell of rage that several of tlie band, immediately after the victim fell, sprung into the woods in hot pursuit of him whom they now counted their enemy. They were joined by several men belonging to the fort, who had hastened to the scene of action on hearing that the people in the hall were likely to come to blows. Redfcathcr was the first who had bounded like a 1 :i I, hi I V J !: V I if. i ■ t ! 1 11-; ): ; vi i t i} 1 ■t i I , t ' "l ■Ij'i. * 1.^ [- 1 .'1 3G6 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS deer into the wootls in pursuit of tlie fugitive. Tlioap who roiiiaincd a«sistocl Cliarloy and liis friends to convey tlie l)()dy of jNTr Wliyte into an adjoining room, wIkto. tliey placed liini on a bed. 1I(; was quite dead j tlie mur- derer's aim having 1)e(.'U terribly true. Finding that lu; was past all human aid, tlu^ young men returned to the hall, which they entered just as Iled- featlier glided quickly through the open doorway, and, approacliing the grou]), stood in silence beside tliem, with his arms folded on his breast. " You have something to tell, Eedfeather," said Jacques, in a subdued tone, after regarding him a few seconds. "Is the scoundrel caught 1 " " Misconna's foot is swift," re})lied the Indian, "and the wood is thick. It is wasting time to folbjw him through the bushes." " What would you advise, then 1 " exclaimed Charl y, in a hurried voice. " T see that you have some plan to propose." *' The wood is thick," answered Eedfeather, " ))ut the lake and tlie river are o}'/cn. Let one party go by the lake, and one party l>y the river." " That's it, that's it, Injin," interrupted Jacques, ener- g(;tica]ly, " yer wits are always junipin'. JJy crossin' over to Duck Kiver, we can start at a })oint five or six miles above the lower fall, an' as it's thereabouts he must cross, we'll be time enough to catch him. If he tries the lake, the other party'll fix him there; an' hell be soon poked up if he tries to hide in the bush." " Come, then, we'll all give chase at once," cried Charley, feeling a temporary relief in the prospect of ener- getic action, from the depressing effects of the calamity Lve. Tlioap Is to convey •00111, wIltTO (I ; the innr- t young nioii list as PtCtl- )or\vuy, and, 3 tliem, with 'atlicr," said y liim a few iidian, " and ) follow liim ned Cliarl 7, some plan to r, " ))ut the ■jj go by the acqucs, enor- crossiii' over or six miles ts ho must f he tries the le 11 be soon 3nce," cried ;pect of ener- the cidamlty .1 J PROM THE FAIl NOllTU. 367 tliat had so suddenly befallen him iu the loss of liis cliief and friend. Little time was needed for preparation. Jacques, Charley, and Harry proceeded by the river; while lled- feather and Hamilton, with a couple of men, launched their canoe on the lake, and set olf in pursuit. Crossing the country for about a mile, Jacques led his party to the point on the Duck Itiver to which ho had previously referred. Here they found two canoes, into one of which the guide stepped with one of the men, a Canadian, who had accompanied them ; while Harry and Charley embarked in the other. In a few minutes they were rapidly descending the stream. " How do you mean to act, Jacques 1 " inquired Charley, as he paddled alongside of the guide's canoe. " Is it not likely that Misconna may have crossed the river already ? In which case we shall have no chance of catching him." " Niver fear," returned Jacques. " He must have longer legs than most men if he gets to the flat-rock fall before us, an' as that's the spot where he'll nat' rally cross the river, being the only straight line for the hills that escapes the bend o' the bay to the soutli o' Stoney-creek, we're pretty sartin to stop him there." " True ; but that being, as you say, the natural route, don't you think it likely he'll expect that it will be guarded, and avoid it accordingly 1 " " He would do so, Mister Charles, if he thought we were here; but there are two reasons agin this. He thinks that he's got the start o' us, an' won't need to double by way o' deceivin' us ] an' then he knows that the whole tribe is after him, and, consekintly, won't take ^^M m f: I ,. 3G8 snowflakp:s and sunbeams ii^': I i • 1 1 j \ \ l .! i f ' jj V ! i \ 'W i i j 1 ' i ■ ' 1 i 1 ' : 1 ' ' 1 1 ' ^ '' 1 ■' « 3 I, ' ' i ■ '; : 1 J . ^ I ■ ■ ■ i 1- ,i n ,1, . 1 ; ' ■ , i 1 j ] .; i . ■ f ;' ^ ■ r h 1 1 ' ■■i 1 . .m:;: 8 1 (. ■ 1 m ■ ' • ' 1 • S ■ , -^ if ■ if - 1 I : ■' 1' !! ;■ 1 •: |! ! i 1 ii M' 1 ; ^ 1 i '. •■'■'' 1! Ii 1 f ir- i . >■':' ■■ ■ f i' ' '";jj \'i'\ ( ;, \i ■ i^ :■ H ■; J'^ ^' !M;'f: Ii s J i H * ; •: 1' 1 i ■ ' ' ,1 '' 1 ■ ; I M ^ * [1 ^ i ^ ".?!;','■ ii ■ \ ■: p 1 ^ ■,,1! '' i If " P ' ■ ■ 1 • yllv. 1 d ■ )ii : i 1 a long road, when tlicrc's a short one, if lie can help it But here's the rock. Look out, Mr Charles. We'll have to iim the i'all, which isn't very big just now, and then hide in the bushes at the foot of it till the blackguard shews himself. Keep well to the riglit, an' don't mind the big rock ; the rush o' water takes you clear o' that without trouble." With this concluding piece of advice, he pointed to the fall, which plunged over a ledge of rock about half a mile ahead of them, and ^\"hich was distinguis]ia])le by a small column of white spray that rose out of it. As Charley beheld it, his spirits rose, and forgetting, for a moment, the circumstances which called him there, he cried out — " I'll run it before you, Jacques. Hurrah ! Give way, Harry ! " and, in spite of a remonstrance from the guide, he shot the canoe ahead, gave vent to another reckless shout, and flew, rather than glided, down the stream. On seeing this, the guide held back, so as to gi\'e him sufficient time to take the plunge ere he followed. A few strokes brought Charley's canoe to the brink of the fall, and Harry was just in the act of raising himself in the bow to obseiwe the position of the rocks, when a shout was heard on the baidc close beside them. Look- ing up, they beheld an Indian emerge from the forest, fit an arrow to his bow, and discharge it at them. The winged messenger was truly aimed, it whizzed through the air and transfixed Harry Somerville's left shoulder just at the moment they swept over the fall. The arrow completely incapacitated Harry from using his arm, so tliat the canoe, instead of being directed into the broad current, took a sudden turn, dashed in among a mass of broken rocks, between which the water foamed with FROM THE FAR NORTH. 3C9 can help it We'll have w, and then '. bluekfauirU ilon't mind clear o' that )inted to the t half a mile ie by a small As Charley r a moment, cried out — •rah ! Give Lce from the t to another :1, down the so as to give he followed, the brink of isins: himself )cks, when a lem. Look- lie forest, fit them. The ized through eft shoulder The arrow his arm, so ,0 the broad fj a mass of bamed with violence, and upset. Here the canoe stuck fast, while its owners stood up to their waists in the water, struggling to set it free, — an object which they were the more anxious to accomplish that its stern lay directly in the spot where Jacques would infallibly descend. The next instant their fears were realised. The second canoe glided over the cataract, dashed violently against the first, and upset, leaving Jacques and his man in a similar predicament. By their aid, however, the canoes were more easily righted, and embarking quickly they shot forth again, just as the Indian, who had been obliged to make a detour in order to get within range of their position, re-appeared on the banks above, and sent another shaft after them, — for- tunately, however, without efiect. " This is unfortunate," muttered Jacques, as the i)arty landed and endeavoured to wring some of the water from their drip})ing clothes, " an' the worst of it is that our guns are useless after sicli a duckin', an' the varmint knows that, an' will be down on us in a twink- lin'." " But we are four to one," exclaimed Harry. " Surely we don't need to fear much from a single enemy." " Humph ! " ejaculated the guide, as he examined the lock of his gun. " You've had little to do with Injins, that's plain. You may be sure he's not alone, an' the reptile has a bow with arrows enough to send us all on a pretty long journey. But we've the trees to dodge behind. If I only had one dry charge ! " and the dis- concei-ted guide gave a look, half of perplexity, half of contempt, at the dripping gun. " Never mind," cried Charley, " we have our paddles. But I forgot. Harry^ in all this confusion, that you are f^ ( f >^1 I ! i I ! f \ ■ I •I. , li i. .j V ■' m I. if' ill 1 i ' t ill il 1 V. •|:1i ^Pi Mi :?i 37U SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS vvoiiiulod, iny poor fellow — we must have it exaiuiutHl before doing anythiiig farther." " Oh ! it's uothing at all — a more scratch, I think ; at least I feel very little pain." As he s})oko the twang of a bow was heard, and an arrow flew past Jacques' ear. " Ah ! so soon ! " exclaimed that worthy, with a look of sui']>rise, as if he hail unex})cctetlly met with an old friend. Stepping behind a tree, he motioned to his friends to do likewise ; an exam})le which they followed somewhat hastily on beholding the Indian who had wounded Harry stc}) from the cover of the underwood and deliberately let lly another arrow, which passed through the hair of the Canadian they had brought with them. From the several trees behind which they had leaped for shelter, they noAV perceived that the Indian with the bow was INIisconna, and that he was accompanied by eiglit others, who appeared, however, to be totally un- armed ; having, probably, been obliged to leave tlieir weapons behind them, owing to the abruptness of their flight. Seeing that the white men were unable to use their guns, the Indians assembled in a group, and, from the hasty and violent gesticulations of some of the party, especially of Misconna, it was evident that a speedy attack was intended. Observing this, Jacques coolly left the shelter of Ida tree, and, going up to Charley, exclaimed, " Now, Mister Charles, I'm goin' to run away, so you'd better come along with me." " That I certaiidy will not ! Why, what do yoii mean 1 " inquired the other, in astonishment. ' 1. ki t exiujiiufHi I tliiuk ; at arJ, and an with a look ,vitli ail okl )iicd to liis ley followed [1 who had undurwood Inch passed I'onght with '• had lea})ed 111 with the in|)anicd by :otal]y nn- eave their ess of their able to use and, from the party, a speedy elter of his ow. Mister )etter come at do you T V FP>OM THE FAR NOUTII. 371 ** 1 mean that these stupid redskins can't make up their minds what to do, an', as i"\e no notion o' stoppin here all day, 1 want to make them do what will suit u.s best. You see, if they scatter through the wood and atta.V us on all sLtle.s, they may give us a deal o' trouble, and git away after all ; whereas, if we I'un aica//, they'll bolt after us in a bodv, and then we can take tliem in liaud all at once, which '11 be more comfortable like, an' jasier to manage," As Jacques spoke, they were joined by ITarry and the Canadian ; and, being observed by the Indians thus grouj)ed together, another arrow was sent among them. " Now, follow me," said Jacques, turning round witli a loud howl, and running away, lie was closely followed by the others. As the guide had predicted, the Indians 110 sooner observed this than they iiished after them in a body, uttering horrible yells. " Now, then ; sto}) here ; down with you." Jacques instantly crouched behind a bush, while each of the party did the same. In a moment the savages came shouting up, su})posing that the white men were still running on in advance. As the foremost, a tall, muscular fellow, with the agility of a panther, bounded over uie bush behind which Jacques was concealed, he wjis met with a blow from the guide's list, so powerfully delivered into the pit of his stomach, that it sent him violently back into the bush, where he lay insensible. This event, of course, put a check upon the head- long pursuit of the others, who suddenly paused, like a group of infuriated tigers, unexpectedly baulked of their prey. The hesitation, however, was but for a moment. Misconna, who was in advance, suddenly drew his bow . :• if f' i P ! •\i ■I i « il i.,i lil ii 1 lii III 11 tl .i'J 372 SNOWrLAKKS A.ND SUNBKAMS again, ami lut fly an arro'.v at Jacques, wkicli the latter dexti',roii.sly avoided ; and, while his antagonist lowered his eyes for an instant to lit another arrow to the string, the guide, making ns(j of ]iis paddle as a sort of javelin, tlirew it with sucli foi'cc and precision tliat it struck Misconua directly between the eyes, and felled him to the eartli. In another instant, the two 2>arties rushed ujjon each other and a general 7nclee ensued, in which tlie white men, being greatly superior to their adversaries in the use of their fists, soon proved themselves more than a diatch for them all although inferior in numbers. Charley's first antagonist, making an abortive attempt to grapple with him, received two rapid blows, one on the cliest and the other on tlie nose, which knocked him over the bank into the river, while his conqueror sj)rang upon another Indian. I [any, having unfortunately selected the biggest savage of the band, as his special property, rushed upon him and dealt him a vigorous blow on the head with his paddle. The weapon, however, w^as made of light wood, and, instead of felling him to the ground, broke into shivers. Springing upon each other, they immediately engaged in a fierce struggle, in which poor Harry learned, when too late, that his wounded shoulder was almost powerless. IMean while, the Canadian having been assaulted by three Indians at once, floored one at the onset, and immediately began an impromptu war-dance round the other two, dealing them occasionally a kick or a blow, which would speedily have rendered them ho7'S de combat, had they not succeeded in closing upon him, when all three fell heavily to the ground. Jacques and Charley having succeeded in overcoming their respective opponents, immediately hiis- FUOM THE FAR NOIITU, 373 toned to his rescue. In the mean time, Harry and liih foe had fttrugglod to a considerable distance from the others, gradually eilging towards tlie river's baidv, Feel- lUiX faint from liis w(jund, tlie former at length sank under the weight of liis powerful antagonist, who endt-a- voured to thrust him over a kind of clilf, which they had approached. He was on the point of accomplishing his purpose, when Cliarlcy and his friends perceived Harry's imminent danger, and rushed to the rescue. Quickly though they ran, however, it seemed likely that they Avould be too late. Harry's head already overhung the bank, and the Indian was endeavouring to loosen the gripe of the young man's hand fi-om his throat, ])reparatory to tossing him over, when a wild cry rang through the forest, followed by the reports of a doulfle-barrelled gun, iired in quick succession. Immediately after, young Hamilton bounded like a deer down the slo|)e, seized the Indian by the legs, and tossed him over the cliif, where he turned a complete summei'sault in his descent, and fell with a sounding splash into the water. "Well done, cleverly done, lad!" cried Jacques, as he and the rest of the party came up and crowded round Harry, who lay in a state of partial stupor on the bank. At this moment Iledfeather hastily but silently ap- proached ; his broad chest was heaving heavily, and his expanded nostrils quivering with the exertions he had made to reach the scene of action in time to succour his friends. "Thank God," said Hamilton, softly, as he kneeled beside Harry, and sup})orted his head, while Charley bathed his temples, " thank God that I have been in time! Fortunately I was walking by the river consider- 'S. &y: 1:1 t :, ■' 11 I ;,i i:' '.H I I 371 SN'UWFLAKKS AM) SUNISKAMS fi 'if: ably in advance of IJcdl'catliei*, \>\\o Wius bringing up tlie canoe, when I heard tlie sounds of the fray, and hiusteneU to your aid." At this nionient, ITarry opened liis eyes, and, saying faintly that he ft^lt Ix-tter, allowiMl Jiiinself to be raised to a sitting posture, wliih^ liis coat was removed and Ids wound examined It was f(jund to be a deep flesh wound in the slioulder, from wliicli a fragment of the broken arrow still protruded. '• It's a wonder to mc. Mister Harry, how ye held on to tliat big thief so long," muttered Jactpies, as he drew out the splinter and bandaged up the shuulder. Having completed the surgical operation after a rough fashion, they collected the defeated Indians. Those of them tliat were able to walk, were bound together by the wrists and marched off to the fort, under a guard which was strengthened by the arrival of several of the fur-traders, who had been in pursuit of the fugitives, and were attracted to the spot by the shouts of the combatants. Harry, and such of the party as were more or less severely injured, were [)laced in canoes and conveyed to Stoney-creek by the lake, into which Duck River runs at the distance of about lialf a mile from the spot on which the skirmisli had taken place. Misconna was among the latter. On arriving at Stoney-creek, the canoe party found a large assemblage of the natives awaiting them on the wharf, and, no sooner did Misconna land, than they ad- vanced to seize him. " Keep back, friends," cried Jacques, wdio perceiv^ed their intentions, and stepped hastily between them. " Come here, lads," he continued, turning to his com- ^iiig up tlie iid hiusteiic'J and, saying 1)0 raised to ^ed and his HohIi wound the broken V ye held on as he drew er. Having ugh fashion, 3f them that ic wrists and which was fur-traders, s, and were combatants, lore or less conveyed to liver runs at :)ot on which IS among the arty found a hem on the an they ad- lo perceived ween them, to his com- FTiOM THE FAR XOKTH. 375 panions, "surround IVIiscoiina. Ho in our prisoner, and must lia' fair justice done him, accordin' to wliite law." Tliov fell back in silence on observini' the jjuide's deter mined maiinej-, but, as tliey hurried the wretche»l eulprit tdwaj'ds tlie liouse, oik; of tln^ Indians pivsselo\v wa,s UK^rtal, the traders ceased to oiler any further opposition, and tlu; Indians j-ushing upon his Ixxly, bore it away amid shouts and yc.'lls of exeeiation to their canoes, to oni! of whicli the body was fastened by a rope, and dragged through the water to a })oint of land that jutted out into tlie lake near at hand. Here they lighted a i\vc and burned it to ashes. * -X- -X- * -X- * There seems to be a period in the history of every one, when the fair aspect of this world is darkened ; when everything, whether past, present, or futui'c, assumes a hue of the deepest gloom — a period when, for the first time, the sun, Avhich has shone in the mental firmament with more or less brilliancy from childhood upwards, entirely disappears behind a cloud of thick darkness, and leaves the soul in a state of deep melancholy — a time when feelings somewhat akin to despair pervade us, as we begin gradually to look upon the ])ast as a bright, hap})y vision, out of which wo have at last awakened to view the sad realities of the present, and look forward with sinking hope to the future. Various are the causes which pro- duce this, and diverse the eflects of it on differently con- stituted minds ; but there are few, we a])prehcnd, who liave not passed through the cloud in one or other of its phases, and who do not feel that this Jlrst period of ^■r\v 37G S\OWl'liAKi:S AND SUNBKAMS iU h !l!i! ( ' I i. I ' if t < n liU i: 0!: i! i ■ .V ■ f i;i; ill: mil ,.. - I »;n^; 11 prolonged roitow is darker, and heavier, and wor«e to boar, than many of the more truly grievous afflictions that sooner or later fall to the lot of most men. Into ii state of mind somewhat similar to that which we have endeavour«!d to describe, our friend Charley Ken- nedy fell iniin('(li;itcly after tJHi events just narrated. The sudden and awful dcaili of bis friend I\^r^yhyte fell u|)om liis young spirit, unaeeustnmed as lit! was to scenes of bloodshed and violence, with overwhelming jiowcr. Fi-om the depression, however, which naturally followed, ho would ])roba1>ly soon have rallied had not Harry Somer- ville's wound in the shoulder taken an unfa^'ourable turn, and obliged him to remain for many weeks in bed, under the influence of a slow fever, so that Cliarley felt a desola- tion creeping over his soul, that no eflort be was capable of making could shako olf. It is true, ho found both occupation and pleasure in attending upon his sick friend ; but as Harry's illness rendered great quiet necessary, and as Hamilton had been sent to take charge of the fishing-station mentioned in a former chapter, Charley was obliged to indulge his gloomy reveries in silence. To add to his wretchedness, he received a letter from Kate about a week after Mr Whyte's burial, telling him of the death of his mother. Meanwhile, Ecdfeathcr and Jacques, — both of whom, at their young master's earnest solicitation, agreed to winter at Stoney-creek, — cultivated each other's acquaintance sedulously. There were no books of any kind at the out- post, excepting three Bibles — one belonging to Charh'y, and one to Harry, the third being that which had been pre- sented to Jacques by Mv Conway the missionary. This single volume, howe^'c^ proved to be an ample library to FROM THE FAll NORTH. 377 d worse to s afllictioua 1. that wliich harlcy Kcn- L-rated. The ^te full upon to SCOIK'S of ")\vcr. Fi'om followed, lie ^aiTy Soiuei*- iiinil)lotuvii, ri lied, under felt a dcsola- ! was capable found l)otli 5 sick friend ; t necessary, large of tlie )ter, Charley 1 silence. To iv from Kate ijj liim of tlic I of whom, at ecd to winter acquaintance id at the out- r to Charley, had been prc- onary. This pie library to Jacques and his Indian friend. Neither of these sons of the forest wore much accustomed to reading ; av.d neither of them would liave for a moment cntertjiined the idea of taking to literature as a pastime; but Uedfcather lovrd the Bible for the sake of the great truths which lu; dis- covered in its inspired pages, though much of what he read wa.s to him mysterious and utterly incomprehensible, .Jacques, on the other hand, read it, or listened to liis friend, with that philosophic gravity of countenance, iiiid earnestness of purpose, which he displayed in regitrd to everything; and deep, serious, and protracted Wfve th(; discussions they })lunged into, as, night after night, tlicy sat on a log, with the Bible spread (^ut beton; them, and read by the light of the blazing fire, in the men's Ik^usc at Stoney-crcek. Their intercourse, however, was brought to an abrupt conclusion by the unexpected arrival, one day, Gi j\Ir Conway, the missionary, in his tin canoe. This gentleman's appearance was most welcome to all parties. It was like a bright ray of sunshine to Charley, to meet with one who could fully sympathise with liiin in his present sorrowful frame of mind. It was an event of some conse- quence to Harry Somervillc, inasmuch as it provided him with an amateur doctor, who really understood somewhat of his physical complaint, and was able to i)Our balm, at once literally and spiritually, into his wounds. • It was an event producti\e of the liveliest satisfaction to Bed- feather, who now felt assured that his tribe would have those mysteries explained, which he only imperfectly understood himself; and it was an event of much rejoic- ing to the Indians themselves, because their curiosity had been not a little roused by what they heard of the doings !ind sayings of the white missionary, who lived on the II r;i:i ^•lll^ ■Wt" 378 SNOW FLA KKS \ND flUNUKAMS iir I? N 1 t M i , " ! ■ 1 l . ^ 1 ; : , ' 1 i ;IM 1 If III I Ml ■ ii i f I 1 I ' ,,. ,, '■ I ' j ! Ul ■H u I? ■•t 4 I l)or(lo!M of the fjr<\'it lako. The f)iily ])orson, perluips, on ■whom Mr C«)nway's arrival act,«Ml \vitli otli(;r than a pltjasiiijL; infliionce, nvhh .lacqtios Caradoc. Tliis wortliy, al(lioU''li iilad to iiicct. ^vitll a iiiuii \vlii»m In; iMt iiicliiicd '•otli to lov(! Mild ri's|M'ct, w.is liy no iiicans fj^ratilied to find tliat liis friend JJcdf'catlM'i' liad aiijrocd to i;o witli t^ic missionjiry on liis visit io IIm' Indian Irilx', and tlicrcal'tcr lo acconi];)any liiiu to tlu; settlement on I'lay.^reen Lake, lint, witli tlie stoicism tlint Mas natural to liim, Jacques submitted to circumstances Nvliicli ho could not alter, and contented himself with assuring llcdfeather that if he lived till next spring, ho would most certainly " make tracks for the groat lake," ami settle down at the missionary's station along with him. This j)roniise waH made at tho end of the wdiarf of Stonoy-crcok, tho moi'uing on wliich INFr Conway and his party embarked in their tin Ciinoe, — tla; same tin canoo at which Jacques had curled his noso contemptur Fort Garry, to get leave with yon. I as long as he |)oy'?" said •ned it to his doctor I liave had yet. But now tell me >v1iat yon intend to do," Cliarley assisted his ffiend to rise, and led him slowly back to the house, as he replied — " Do, my hoy ? That's soon said. I'll make things square and straight at Stoney-crcek; 1*11 send for Ifainiltou, and make him interim commander-in-chief; I'll write two letters, one to the gentlemnn in charge of tlie district, telling liim of my movements; the other (containing a screed of foi-mal instructions) to the miserable mortal who shall succeed me here ; I'll take the best canoe in our store, load it with ])rovisions, })ut you carefully in the middle of it, stick Jacques in tlie bow, and myself in the stern, and start, two weeks hence, neck and croj), head over heels, through thick and thin, wet and dry, over portage, river, fall, and lake, for Red Kiver settle- ment ! " ;'!•: ather is a dear )e half as good [ think I'm so : without the think we had oddly enough, Ah ! Charley, ,0 Vje the liesi >-Bw ■ {< !i . i..'!l;i i I !i CHAPTER XXVIII. Old fricndH ami scenes; coming events cast their shadows beforo Mr Kennedy, senior, was seated in liis own c(jnifortable arm-chair before the fire, in his own cheerful little par- lour, in his own snug house, at Red River; with his own higlily characteristic hreakftvst of buffalo-steaks, tea, and peniican before him, and his own beautiful, affectionate daughter Kate presiding over the tea-pot, and exercising unwarrantably despotic sway over a large gray cat, whoso sole happiness seemed to consist ir subjecting Mr Kennedy to perpetual annoyance, and whose main object in life was to catch its master and mistress off their guard, that it might go quietly to the table, the meat-safj, or the {)antry, and there — deliberatel}'' — steal ! Kate had grown very much since we saw her last. She wiis quite a woman now, and well worthy of a minute description here; but we never could describe a woman to our o^vn satisfiiction. We have frequently tried and failed ; so we substitute, in place, the remarks of Kate's friends and acquaintances about her — a criterion on which to form a judgment, that is a pretty connect one, especially when the opinion pronounced happens to be favourable. Her father said she was an angel, and the only joy of his life. This latter expression, we may remark, was false; for Mr Kennedy fi-equently said to Kate, confidentially, that Charley was a great happiness to liim ; and we arc (^uite sure that tlie pipe had somethiiii,' I coiiifortaWe ful little par- witli his own ;aks, tea, aiul [, affectionate nd exercising -ay cat, wlioso Mr Kennedy object in life ir guard, that xt-sar^, or the saw her last. ■A^orthy of a d describe a frequently le remarks of a criterion iretty correct ed happens to an angel, and sion, we may icntly said to t liappinoss to lad somethiiiL! ve r FROM THE FAK NORTH. 383 to do with the felicity of his existence. But the old gentleman said that Kate was the oulj joy of his life, and that is all wo have to do with at present. Several ill- tempered old ladies in the scttlem,!iit said that Miss Kennedy w;us really a quiet modest girl ; — testiuKuiy this (considering the soui'cn) whence it came) that was quite conclusive. Then, ohl Mr Grant remarked to old Mr Kennedy, over a contldeutial l>ipe, that Kate was cer- taiuly, in his opinion, the most modest and the prettiest girl in lied Iliver. Her old school companions called her a darling. Tom Whyte said " he never see'd nothink like her nowhere." The clerks sp(jke of her in terms too glowing to remember; and the last .'i^'.'ival among them, the youngest, with the slang of the "old country" fresh on his lips, called her a stunner! Even ]\Irs Grant got up one of her half-expressed remarks about lier, which every- botly wovdd have supposed to be (piizzical in its nature, were it not for the frequent occurrence of the terms " good girl," " innocent creature," which seemed to contradict that idea. There were also one or two hapless swains who said nothing, but what they did and looked wa.s, in itself, unequivocal. They went quietly into a state of slow, drivelling imbecility whenever they happened to meet wdth Kate ; looked as if they had become shockinv;ly unwell, and were rather pleased than otherwise that their friends should think so, too; and, upon all and every occa- sion in which Kate w;us concerned, conducted themselves with an amount of insane stupidity (although sane enongli at other times), that nothing could account for, save the idea that their admiration of her wius inex])ressible, and that iJtdt w;i,-> the most effective way in which they coulcj express it. I :i{..! i'^ f'/ 384 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNhl::AMS •I !' 'i; I f M^ nr !* it !M, " Kate, my darling," said Mr Kennedy, as he finished the last mouthful of tea, " wouldn't it be capital to get another letter from Charley 1 " " Yes, dear pa])a ; it would, indeed ! But I am quite sure that the next time we shall hear from him will be when he arrives here, and makes the house ring with hia own dear voice." " How so, girl 1 " said the old trad(.'r, with a smile. It may as well be remarked here that the above opening of conversation was by no means new. It was stereotyped now. Ever since Charley had been aj)pointed to the management of Lower Fort Garry, his father had been so engrossed by the idea, and spoke of it to Kate so fre- quently, that he had got into a way of feeling as if the event so much desired would liappcn in a few days, although he knew quite well that it could not, in the course of ordinary or extra-ordinary circumstances, occur in less than several months. However, as time rolled on, he began regularly, every day or two, to ask Kate ques- tions about Charley that she could not by any possibility answer, but which, he knew from experience, would lead her into a confabulation about his son, which helped a little to allay his impatience. " Why, you see, father," she replied, " it is three months since we got his last, and you know there has been no opportunity of forwarding letters from Stoney- creek since it was despatched. Now, the next opportu- nity that occurs " " Mee-aow ! " iiiterru|)tcd tlie cat, which had just finished two pats of fresh butter without being detected, and began, rather recklessly, to exult. "Hang that cat!" cried the old gentleman, angrily. {-!< IS he finialietl capital to get it I am quite him will be ring with his 1 a smile. It ve opening of 13 stereotyped minted to the 3r had been so Kate so tVe- eling as if the ;i a few days, d not, in the istances, occur uime rolled on, sk Kate ques- any possibility ce, would lead diich helped a "it is three mow there has ^ from Stoney- next opportu- hich had just being detected^ Ionian, angrily. FROM THE FAR NOUTll. 385 " it'll be the death o' me yet ; " and, seizing the first thing that came to hand, which hiippened to be the loaf of bread, discliargcd it with such violence, and with so correct an aim, that it knocked, not only the cat, but the tea-pot and sugar-bowl also, oil' the table. " O dear papa ! " exclaimed Kate. " llcally, my dear," cried Mr Kennedy, half-angry and Iialf-ashamed, "we nuist get rid of that brute immedi- ately. It has scarcely been a week here, and it has done more mischief already than a score of ordinary cats would have done in a twelvemonth." " But then, the mice, papa " " Well, but — but — oh! hang the mice !" *' Yes ', but how arc we to catch them ? " said Kate. At this moment, the cook, \\\\o luid hoard the sound of breaking crockery, and judged it expedient that he should be present, opened the door. "How now, rascal!" exclaimed his master, striding up to him. " Did I ring for you 1 eh 1 " " No, sir ; but " " But ! eh ! but ! no more biits, you scoundrel, else I'll " The motion of Mr Kennedy's ilst warned the cook to make a precipitate retreat, which lie did at tlu^ same moment that the cat resolved to run for its life. This caused them to meet in the doorway, and, making a com- pound entanglement with the mat, they both foil into the passage with a loud crash. IMr Kennedy shut the door gently, and returned to his chair, patting Kate on the head as he passed. " Now, darling, go on with what you were sayinof ; liul don't mind tlio toa-pot — lot it lie." •1: if if;'! 386 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS I I '^f ( i. H I ^■ii " Well," resumed Kate, witli a smile, " I was saying tliat the next opportunity Charley can have will he by tlie brigade in spring, which we expect to arrive here, you know, a month hence, but we won't get a letter by that, as I feel convinced that he and Harry will come by it themselves." " And the express canoe, Kate — the express canoe," said Mr Kennedy, with a contortion of the left side of his head that was intended for a wink, — "you know they got leave to come by express, Kate." " Oh, as to the express, father, I don't expect them to come by that, as poor Harry Somerville has been so ill that they would never think of venturing to subject him to all the discomforts, not to mention the dangers, of a canoe voyage." " I don't know that, lass — I don't know that," said Mr Kennedy, giving another contortion with his left cheek. " In fact, I shouldn't wonder if they arrived this very day, and it's well to be on the look-out, so I'm off to the banks of the river, Kate." Saying this, the old gentleman threw on an old fur cap with the peak all awry, thrust his left hand into his right glove, put on the other with the back to the front and the thumb in the middle finger, and bustled out of the house, muttering as he went — " Yes, its well to bo on the look-out for him." Mr Kennedy, however, was disai)pointed ; Charley did not arrive that day, nor the next, nor the day after that. Nevertheless the old gentleman's faith each day remained as firm as on the day previous, that Charley would arrive on that day " for certain." About m. week after this, ]\lr Kennedy put on his ii.J. and gloves as usual, and saun- tered down to the banks of the river, where his perse vor- ritOM THK FAR NOIITIL 387 was saying will be by irrive liere, a lecter by ill come by fess canoe," left side of . know they »ect them to } been so ill subject him angers, of a lat," said Mr 3 left cheek. , this very 111 off to the gentleman iwry, thrust other with iddle finger, he went — Charley did y after that. ay reniainod voiild arrive ■tor this, Mr 1, and saun- lis persever- ance was rewarded by the sight of a small canoe rapidly approaching the landing-place. From the costume of the three men who propelled it, the cut of the canoe itself, the precision and energy of its movements, and several other minute points about it, only ap})arent to the accustomed eye of a nor'wester, he judged at once that this was a new arrival, and iKjt merely one of the canoes belonging to the settlers, many of which might be seen passing up and down the river. As they drew near, he fixed his eyes eagerly upon them. "Very odd," he exclaimed, while a shade of disappoint- ment passed over his brow, " it ought to bo liini, but its not like him — too big — different nose altogether — don't know any of the three — humj)li ! — well, he's suj-e to come to-morrow, at all events." Having come to the conclusion tliat it was not Charley's canoe, he wheeled sulkily round and sauntered back towards his house, intending to solace himself with a pipe. At that moment he heard a shout behind him, and, ere he could well turn round to see whence it came, a young man bounded up the bank and seized him in his arms with a hug that threatened to dislocate his ribs. The old gentleman's first impulse was to bestow on his antagonist (for he verily believed him to be such) one of those vigorous touches with his clenched fist, which, in days of yore, used to bring some of his dis- putes to a summary and effectual close ; but his intention changed when the youth spoke. " Father, dear, dear father !" said Charley, as he loosened his grasp, and, still holding him by both hands, looked earnestly into his face with swimming eyes. Old Mr Kennedy seemed to have lost his powers of S])eech. He gazed at his son for a few seconds in silence, */ ( !!^- •ifi :■:!- '>:i iM i\ } I 388 SNOWFLAKES AND «UM$KA>IS 1! J i *«i then 8\ul(lenly threw liis arms around him and engaged in a species of wrestle, which he intended for an cm- brace. " O Cliarley, my boy ! " he exchiimed, " you've come at last — God bless you! let's look at you — quite changed — six feet — no, not (piite changed — tlie old nose — black as an Indian. O Charley, my dear boy ! I've been waiting for you for months ; why did you kce[) me so long 1 eh ! Hang it, where's my handkerchief?" At this last exclamation, Mr Kennedy's feelings quite overcame him ; his full heart overflowed at his eyes, so that when he tried to look at his son, Charley appeared partly magnified and partly broken up into fragments. Fumbling in his pocket for the missing handkerchief, which he did not find, he sud- denly seized his fur caj), in a bui'st of exasperation, and wiped his eyes with tliat. Immediately after, forgetting that it ivas a cap, he thrust it into his pocket. " Come, dear father," cried Cliarley, drawing the ohl man's arm through his, "let us go home. Is Kate there? " "Ay, ay," cried Mr Kennedy, waving his hand as he wtis dragged away, and bestowing, quite unwittingly, a back-handed slap on the cheek to Harry Somerville, which nearly felled that youth to the ground. " Ay, ay ! Kate, to be sure, darling; yes, quite right, Charley; a pipe — that's it my boy, let's have a pipe ! " And thus, uttering incoherent and broken sentences, he disappeared through the doorway \At\\ his long lost and now recovered son. Meanwhile Harry and Jacques continued to pace quietly before the house, waiting patiently until the first ebullition of feeling, at the meeting of Charley with his father and sistei', should be over. In a few minute? l/harley ran out. f r FIUXM THF, FAU NORTH. 389 •'Hallo, Harry! come in, my boy; forgivo my forget- ful ness, but " " My dear fellow," interrupted Harry, " wiiat nonsense, you are talking ! Of course you forgot me, and every- body, and everytliing on earth just now ; but have you seen Kate 1 is " "Yes, yes," cried Charley, as he ])ushed his friend before him, and drugged Jacques after him into the parlour. "Here's Harry, father, and Jaccpies; you'vt) heard of Jacques, Kate ? " " Harry, my dear boy," cried JNIr Kennedy, seizing his young friend by the liand, " how are you, lad ? JJetter, 1 hope. At that moment ]\[r Kennedy's eye fell on Jacques, who stood in the doorway, ca]^ in hand, with the usual quiet smile lighting up his countenance, " What ! Jacques ! Jacques Oaradoc ! " he cried, in astonishment. " The same, sir ; you an' I have know'd each other afore now in the way o' trade," answered the hunter, as he grasped his old bourgeois by the hand, and wrung it warmly. Mr Kennedy, senior, was so overwhelmed by the com- bination of exciting inlluences to which he was now subjected, that he plungcxl his hand into his pocket for the handkerchief again, and pulled out the fur hat in- stead, which he flung angrily at the cat ; then, using the sleeve of his coat as a substitute, he proceeded to put a series of abrupt questions to Jacques and Charley simid- taneously. In the niean time, Harry went up to Kate and stured ac her. We do not mean to say that he avus intentionally ■■ I I f li . «' i (Mi ill iJ lif rr '!^i-l«- I i Bv 1 ' ft ! ill j"li \j rl I- 'I ill ilfl; fill" : :! ■! h !l 390 SNOWFLAKKS AND SUNUEAM8 nide to linr. No! ITo went towunls her intondiiin to shako liaiids, aiul renew acquaintance witli liis old companion; bnt tlie moment ho caught siglit of her, lie was struck not only dumb, but motionless. The odd jtart of it was that Kate, too, was alfected in precisely the same way, and both of them exclaimed mentally, "Can it be i)Ossible'?" Their lips, however, gave no utterance to the question. At length Kate recollected herself, and blushing dcioply, held out her hand, as she said — " Forgive me, liar — Mr Somerville, I was so surprised at your altered appearance, I could scarcely believe that my old friend stood bef(jre me." Harry's cheeks crimscped, as ho seized her hand and said — " Indeed, Ka — a— xdiss — that is, in fact, I've been very ill, and doubtless liave changed somewhat; but the very same thought struck me in regard to yourself, you are so — so " Fortunately for Harry, who was gradually becoming more and mo-'" confused, to the amusement of Charley, who had closely observed the meeting of his friend and sister, Mr Kennedy came up. " Eh! what's that? What did you say struck you, Harry, my lad ? " " You did, father, on his arrival," replied Charley, with a broad grin, " and a very neat back-hander it was." "Nonsense, Charley," interrupted Harry, with a laugh, " I was just saying, sir, that Miss Kennedy is so changed that I could hardly believe it to be herself." " And I had just paid Mr Somerville the same conqili- uient, papa," cried Kate, laughing and blushing simid- taneously. l\Ir Kennedy thrust his hands into his pockets, frowned wt ' intending itli liiH old b of lior, lie Tho odd iu prccLsely itally, "Can lo utterance lierself, and a— so surprised believe that iv hand and ct, I've been hat; but the yourself, you ly becoming of Charley, friend and you, Harry, /harley, with t was. \^ith a laugh, s so changed ;anic comi)li- shing si mul- lets, frowned fnOM TTTF VU NOllTTT J] portentously as ho looked frtm tho »* to tb ^ther, nd said, slowly, '^ ^^^ss Kennedy, Af 8omer xlo!" then turning to his son, remarked — " s hat's snii,iotliing new, Charley, lad ; that gii-1 is Mks Keupfdy, ami that youth there is JAr Somerville!" Charley laughed loudly at this sally, espeeially when the old gentleman folhnved it up with a series of confir- tions of tho left cheek, meant for ■violent winking. " Right, father, right, it won't do here. We don't know anybody but Kate and IFany in this house." Harry laughed in his own genuine style at this. "Well, Kate bo it, with all my heart," said he; " but, really, at first she seemed so unlike the Kate of former days, that ] could not bring myself to call her so. " Humph ! " said Mr Kennedy. " Cut come, boys, with me to my smoking room, and let's have a talk over a pipe, while Kate looks after dinner." Giving Charley another squeeze of the hand, and Harry a pat on the shoulder, the old gentleman put on his cap, (with the peak behind) and led the way to his glass divan in the garden. It is perhaps unnecessary for us to say, that Kate Kennedy and Harry Somerville liad, within the hist hour, fallen deeply, hopelessly, utterly, irrevocably, and totally in love Avith each other. They did not mcroly fall up to the ears in love. To say that they fell ovei' head and ears in it would be, comparatively speaking, to say nothing. In fact, they did not fall into it at all. They went dehberately backwards, took a long race, sprang high into the air, turned completely round, and went do-^^'-n head first into the flood, descending to a depth utterly M iJi. 393 SVOWFLAKF.S AND SUNHKAMS li'itlm I k m U4 I 1 ! t ! I . 1 I \ ( f ''I M, il i, ' ': !}■■' if;:i beyond tlie power of any decp-sca-lcad to fatliom, or of any liuTnan mind adequately to appreciate. Up to tliat day, Kat(^ liad tlioui^lit of Harry as the liilarinus ^'oiitli wlio used to take ov(uy opportiinity ho could of escaping; from the counting-room and bnotoning to spend the after- noon in ramhling tliro\ig!i tlio woods with lier anil Charley. J»ut the instant she saw him, a man — with a bright cheerful countenance, on which rough living and exposure to frt^quent peril luid stamped unmistakable lines of energy and decision, and to which rectait illness had imiiarted a ca})tivating touch of sadn(>ss, — the moment she beheld this, and the undeniable scrap of whisker tliat graced his cheeks, and the slight s/iade that rested on hia uj)per lip, her hcai-t leapt violently into her throat, where it stuck hard and fast, like a stranded ship on a lea- shore. In like manner, when Harry beheld his former friend, a woman — with beaming eyes and clustering ringlets, and — (there, we won't attempt it !) — in fact, surrounded by every nameless and nameable grace that makes woman exasperatingly delightful, his heart performed the same eccentric movement, and he felt that his fate was sealed, that he had been sucked into a rapid which was too strong even for his expert and powerful arm to contend against, and that lie must drift with the current now, nolens volenff, and run it as he best could. When Kate retired to her sleeping apartment that night, she endeavoured to comport herself in her usual manner ; but all ker efforts failed. She sat down on hei bed and remained motionless for half an hour, then she started and sighed deeply; then she smiled and opened her Bible, but forgot to read it ; then she rose hastily KUOM THE FAll XOUTII. 303 lioTii, or ol [Jp to that •ious youtli of escaping (1 the aftcr- h licr ai\'l an — with a I living and nniistakable QW.nt illness -the moment whisker that rested on hia ihroat, where ip on a lea- )rmer friend, iiig ringlets, iirrounded by ikes woman Lcd the same was sealed, ich was too n to contend cvuTcnt now, [irtment tliat in her usual down on hei our, then she and opened rose hastily RJ^^liM again, took oflf her gown, hung it up on a peg, and, returning to tlio dressing table, sat down on lier best bonnc^t ; then slu; cried a little, at which point the candle suddenly went out, so she gave a slight scream, and at liust wtnit to betl in the dark. Three hours afterwards, Jlarry Somei'ville, who had been enjoying a cigar and a ehat with Charley and his father, rose, and, bidding his frirnds good-night, retired bo his chamber, where he (lung liimself down on a chair, thnist his hands into his pockets, str(;tch("d out his legs, gazed abstractedly before him, and exclainu'd — *' () Kate ! my exquisite girl, you've floored me quite flat!" As he continued to sit in silence, the gaze, of affection gradually and slowly changed into a look of intense astonishment as he beheld the gray cat sitting comfort- ably on the table, and regarding him with a look of com- placent interest, Jis if it thought Harry's style of address- ing it was highly satisfactory — though rather unusual. "Brute!" exclaimed Harry, sjjringing from his seat, and darting towards it. But the cat was too well accus- tomed to old Mr Kennedy's sudden onsets to be easily taken by suri)rise. With a bound it reached the floor, and took shelter under the bed, whence it was not ej(H3ted until Harry, having first thrown his shoes, soap, clothes- brush, and razor-strop at it, besides two or three books, and several miscellaneous articles of toilet — at last opened the door (a thing, by the way, that people would do well always to remember before endeavouring to expel a cat from an impregnable position) and drew the bed into the middle of the room. Then, but not till t.hen, it fled, with its back, its tail, its hair, its eyes — in short, its entire body, bristling in rampant indignation 1 '! *!' 394 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS 1 ;• i i i Having dislodged the enemy, Harry re-placed the bed; throw off his coat and waistcoat, untied his neckcloth. Bat down on his chair again, and fell into a reverie ; from which, after half an hour, he started, cLisped his hands, Rtamped his foot, glared up at the ceiling, slapped his thigh, and exclaimed, in the voice of a hero — " Yes, I'll do it, or die ! " :ni PROM TUE FAK NOUTIL 395 I the bed, neckcloth, crie ; from his hands, dapped hia -" Yes, I'll CHAPTER XXIX. i*he first day at home; a gallop In the prairie, and its consciiuences. Next morning, as the qnartctte were at Ijrcakfast, ]Mr Kennedy, senior, took occasion to propound to liis son the plans he had kdd down for them during tlie next week. " In the fii*st place, Charley, my boy," said lie, as well as a large mouthful of buffalo steak and potato would permit, " you must drive up to the fort and report your- self; Harry and I will go with you, and, after we have paid our respects to old Grant, (another cup of tea, Kate, my darling,) you recollect lain, Charley, don't you V " Yes, perfectly." " Well, then, after we've been to see him, we'll drive down the river, and call on our friends at the mill. Then we'll look in on the Thomsons ; and give a call, in passing, on old Neverin — he's always out, so he'll be pleased to hear we were there, and it won't detain us. Then " " But, dear father, excuse my interrupting you, Harry and I are very anxious to spend our Grst day at home entirely with you and Kate. Don't you think it would be more pleasant ? and then, to-morrow " " Now, Charley, tl'is is too bad of you," said j\lr Kennedy, with a look of affected indignation; "no sooner have you come back, than you're at your old trickh, opposing and thwarting your father's y/ishcs. " 2Q> . ir t|M %, ij. •jii 4lln' 396 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS !:' ' ,: ! i. .1, nil " Indeed, I do not wish to do so, fatlier," replied Charley, with a smile ; " but I thonglit tliat yoii would like iny j)lan better yourself, and that it would afford us an opportunity of having a good, long, satisfactory talk about all that concerns us, past, present, and future." " What a daring mind you have, Charley," said Harry, "to speak of cramming a satisfactory tixXk of the past, the present, and the future all into one day!" "Harry will take another cup of tea, Kate," said Charley, with an arch smile, as he went on — " Besides, f^ither, Jacques tells me that he means to go off immediately, to visit a number of his old voyageur friends in tlie settlement, and I cannot i)ai't with him till we have had one more canter together over the prairies. I want to shew him to Kate, for he's a great original." "Oh ! that ivill be charming!" cried Kate. "I should like of all things to be introduced to the bold hunter ; — another cup of tea, Mr S — Harry, I mean ? " Harry started on being thus unexpectedly addressed. " Yes, if you please — that is — thanli you — no, my cup's full already, Kate!" " Well, well," broke in Mr Kennedy, senior, " I see you're all leagued against me, so I give in. But I shall not accompany you on your ride, as my bones are a little stiffer than they used to be " (the old gentleman sighed heavily), " and riding far knocks me up ; — but I've got business to attend to in my glass house which will occupy me till dinner-time." " If the busines.s yoii speak of," began Charley, " is not Incompatible with a cigar, I shall bo happy to " Why, as to that, the business itself lias si)ecial refe- i]} FROM THE FAR NOKTH. 397 " replied roil would afford 113 ctory talk ture. lid Harry, the pnst, [ate," said aeans to go Id voyageur i with him r over the he's a great " I should 1 huuter ; — ly addressed, .0, my cup's i( |.iior, *• I SCO But I shall Is are a little lemau sighed Ibut I"vc got II will occui)y Irley, " is not Ito si)ecial refe- rence to tobacco, and, in fact, to nothing else ; so como along, you young dog," and the old gentleman's cheek went into violent convulsions as he rose, put on his cap, with the peak very much over one eye, and went out in company with the young men. An hour afterwards, four horses stood saddled and liri(ded in front of the house. Three belonged to ]Mr Kennedy ; the fourth had been borrowed from a noigli- bour as a mount for Jacques Caradoc. In a few minuti's more, Kany lifted Kate into the saddle, ond, having arranged her dress with a deal of unnecessary care, mounted his nag. At the same moment, Charley and Jacques vaulted into their saddles, and the whole caval- cade galloped down the avenue that led to the prairie, followed by the admiring gaze of Mr Kennedy, senior, who stood in the doorway of his mansion, his hands in his vest pockets, his head uncovered, and his happy visage smiling through a cloud of smoke that issued from his lips. Ho seemed the very personification of jovial good-humonr, and what one might supjiose Cupid would become, were he per- mitted to grow old, dress recklessly, and take to smoking ! The prairies were bright that morning, and surpassingly beautiful. The grass looked greener than usual, the dew- drops more brilliant as they si)arkled on leaf and blade and branch in the rays of an unclouded sun. The tui-f felt springy, and the horses, which were first-rate animals, seemed to dance over it, scarce crushing the wildflowers beneath their hoofs, as they galloped lightly on, imbued with the same joyous feeling that filled the hearts of their riders. The plains at this place were more pictu- resque than in other parts, their uniformity being b)'f)ken up by numerous clumps of small trees and wild shrub ii 308 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS *■ ( f ; VJ IM 3 . H beiy, intermingled with lakes and ponds, of all sizes, which filled the hollows for miles around, — temporary sheets of water these, formed by the melting snow, that told of winter now past and gone. Additional animation and life was given to the scene by flocks of waterfowl, whose busy cry and cackle in the water, or whirrhig motion in the air, gave such an idea of joyousness in tin? brute creation, as could not but strike a chord of sym- jtatliy in the lieart of man, and create a feeling of grati- tude to the Maker of man and beast. Altliough brilliant and warm, tlic sun, at least during the first part of their ride, was V>y no metms oppressive; so tliat the equestrians stretched out at full gallop for many miles over the prairie, round the lakes and through the bushes, ere tlieir steeds shewed tlic smallest symptoms of warmth. During the ride, Kate took the lead, with Jacques on lier left and Harry on her right, while Charley brought lip the rear, and conversed in a loud key with all three. At length Kate began to think it was just possil)le tlio horses might be growing wearied with the slappins; pace, and checked her steed ; but this was not an easy matter, as the horse seemed to hold quite a contrary opinion, and shewed a desire, not only to continue, but to increase its gallop, — a propensity that induced Harry to lend his aid by grasping the rein, and comjyelling the animal to walk. " That's a spirited horse, Kate," said Charley, as they ambled along, — " have you had him long 1 " " No," replied Kate ; "our father purchased him just a week before yorur arrival, thinking that you would likely want a charger now and then. I have only been on him once before. Would he make a good buffalo- runner, Jacques ? '* FROM TIIF. FAR NOUTIL 399 all sizes, emporary now, that mimation s^atei-fowl, whirring less in the •d of syni- rr of gvati- h brilliant Li-t of their equestrians s over the >s, ere tlieir th. Jacques on ey brought I all three, possible the ppine; pace, ;asy matter, )pinion, and increase its snd bis aid iial to walk. Icy, as they ;ed him just you would ^e only been mod bulfalo- " Yes, Miss, lie would make an uncommon good runner," answered the hunter, as he regarded the animal with a critical glance, — "at least, if he don't shy at a gunshot." " I never tried his nerves in that way," said Kate, with a smile ; " perhai)s he would shy at that: he Iwis a good deal of spirit — oh, I do dislike a lazy horse, and I do delight in a spirited one ! " Kate gave her hcn-se a smart cut with the whip, half involuntarily, as slie s})oke. In a moment it reared almost perpendicularly, and then bounded forward — not, however, before Jacques' quick eye had observed the danger, and his ever-ready hand arrested its course. " Have a care, Miss Kate," he said, in a warning voice, while he gazed in thu face of the excited girl with a look of undisguised admiration. " It don't do to wallop a skittish beast like that." "Never fear, Jacques," she replied, bending forward to pat her charger's arching neck, — " see, he is becoming quite gentle again." " If he runs away, Kate, we won't be able to catch you again, for he's tlie best of the four, I think," said Harry, with an uneasy glance at the animal's Hashing eye and expanded nostrils. " Ay, its as well to keep the whip off him," said Jacques. " I know'd a young chap once in St Louis, who lost his sweetheart by usin' his whip too freely." "Indeed," cried Kate with a merry laugh, as they emerged from one of the numerous tluckets and rode out upon the open plain at a foot pace, " how was that Jacques 1 Pray tell us the story." " As to that, there's little story about it," replied tlie 400 SNOWFLAKKS AND SUNBEAMS !'" t I I i- ' iH V'i .'i!r ' ■ w -n ■ill iU'h liuntcr. " You see, Tim Ptougliead took a'rtcr his name, an was always doiu' some miscliief or other, which more tiian once nigh cost him his life ; for the young trappers that frequent St Louis arc not fellows to stand too much jokin', I can tell ye. Well, Tim f(L»ll in love with a gal there, who had jilted about a dozen lads afore ; and, bein' an oncommon handsom', strappin' fellow, she encouraged him a good deal. But Tim had a suspicion that Louise was rayther sweet on a young storekeeper's clerk there ; so, bein' an off-hand sort o' critter, he went right up to the gal, and says to her, says he, ' Come, Louise, its o' no use Immbuggin' with ?ne any longer. If you like me, you like me ; and if you don't like me, you don't. There's only two ways about it. Now, jist say the word at once o.n' let's have an end on't. If you agree, I'll squat wdth you in whativci bit o' the States you like to name ; if not, I'll bid you good-l)ye this blessed mornin', an' make tracks right away for the Eocky Mountains afore sun-down. Aye or nc, lass ; which is't to be ? ' "Poor Louise was taken all aback by this, but she knew well that Tim was a man who never threatened in jest, an' moreover, she wasn't quite sure o' the young clerk ; so she agreed, an' Tim went off to settle with her father about the weddm'. Well, the day came, an' Tim, with a lot o' liis comrades, mounted their horses, and rode off to the bride's house, which was a mile or two up the river out of the town. Just as they were startin', Tim's horse gave a plunge that well-nigh pitched him over its head, an' Tim came down on him with a cut o' his heavy whip that sounded like a pistol-shot. The beast was so mad at this that it gave a kind o' squeal an' another plunge that burst the girths. Tim brought the whip down on it.^ PROM Til?: FAR NORTH. 401 his name, hicli more ig trappers 1 too much with a gal , and, bcin' encouraged :hat Louise ;lerk there ; right up to se, its o' no ike me, you There's only Dnce an' let's with you in ; if not, I'll make tracks 3 sun-down. ut she knew ened in jest, oung clerk ; h her father i Tim, with d rode off to the river out horse gave a 3ad, an' Tim y whip that ) mad at this plunge that down on iU flank again, which made it shoot forward like an arrow out of a bow, leavin' poor Tim on the ground. So slick did it lly away, th'.ii it didn't even throw him on his back, but let him fall sittin'-wise, saddle and all, j)lurap on the spot where he sprang from. Tim scratched his head an' gi'inned like a half-worried rattlesnake, as his comrades almost rolled off their saddles with laucchin'. But it was no laughin' job, for poor Tim's leg was doubled under him, an' broken across at the thigh. It was long before he was able to go about again, and wlien he did recover, he found that Louise and the young clerk were spliced an' away to Kentucky." " So you see what are the probable consequences, Kate, if you use your whip so obstreperously again," cried Charley, pressing his horse into a canter. Just at that moment a rabbit sprang from under a bush and darted away before them. In an instant Harry Som- erville gave a wild shout, and set off in pursuit. Whether it was tlie cry, or the sudden flight of Harry's horse, we cannot tell, but the next instant, Kate's charger i)erformed an indescribable flourish witl' its hind legs, laid back its ears, took the bit between its + jth, and ran away. Jacques was on its heels instantly, and, a few seconds afterwards, Charley and Harry joined in the pursuit, but their utmost efforts failed to do more than enable them to keep their ground. Kate's horse was making for a dense thicket, into which it became evident they must cer- tainly plunge. Harry and her brother trembled when they looked at it, and realised her danger ; even Jacques' face shewed some symptoms of perturbation for a moment, as he glanced before him in indecision. The expression ::' I :iii 'if 1 I ''H^I'l- I 402 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS I I'L •i i 1 li 1 ' ■ Si ( M ',1 I } t n Si :i'l| 1 I ' i!! 3 » ' i'l ' h HI: 11 ' ill ! 1 I ill ■■i: i ;lq:: V'jiiUHlied, Jiowever, in a fuw sccouds, and Lis choerfuL self-possessed look returned, as he cried out — " Pull the left rein hard, Miss Kate ; try to edge up the slope." Kate heard the advice, and, exerting all her strength, succeeded in turning her horse a little to the left, which caused him to luscend a gentle slope, at the top of whicli part of the thicket lay. She was closely followed by Harry and her brother, who urged their steeds madly forward in the hope of catching her rein, while Jacques diverged a little to the right. By this manoeuvre, the latter hoped to gain on the runaway, as the ground along whicli he rode was comparatively level, with a short but steep ascent at the end of it, while that along which Kate flew like the wind was a regular ascent, that would prove very trying to her horse. At the margin of the thicket grew a row of high bushes, towards which they now galloped with frightful speed. As Kate came up to this natu- ral fence, she observed the trapper approaching on the other side of it. Springing from his jaded steed, without attempting to check its pace, he leaped over the underwood like a stag, just as the young girl cleared the bushes at a bound. Grasping the reins, and checking the horse violently with one hand, he extended the other to Kate, who leaped unhesitatingly into his arms. At the same instant, Charley cleared the bushes, and pulled sharply up ; while Harry's horse, unable, owing to its speed, to take the leap, came crashing through them, and dashed his rider with stunning violence to the ground. Fortunately no bones were broken, and a draught of clear water, brought by Jacques from a neighbouring pond, speedily restored H arry's shaken faculties. I : FROM THK FAR NORTH 403 i cheerfiiL idge up the !r strength, left, which ip of whicli followed by eeds madly lile Jacques iceuvrc, the round along a short but which Kate would prove thicket grew ow galloped this natu- oaching on aded steed, eaped over girl cleared nd checking d the other arms. At and pulled wing to its li them, and ground, draught of eighbouring ies. " Now, Kate," said Charley, leading forward the horso which lie had ridden, " I have changed saddles, as you see ; this horse will suit you better, and I'll take the shine out of your charger on the way home." " Thank you, Cliarley," said Kate, with a smile, " I've quite recovered from my fright, if, indeed, it is worth calling by that name ; but I fear that Harry has " " Oh ! I'm all right," cried Harry, advancing as he spoke to assist Kate in mounting. " I am asluimed to think that my wild cry was the cause of all this," In another minute they were again in tlu'ir saddles, and, turning their faces homeward, they swe[)t over the plain at a steady gallop, fearing lest their accident should be tlie means of making Mr Kennedy wait dinner for them. On arriving, they found the old gentleman engaged in an animated discussion with the cook about laying the table-cloth, which duty he had imposed on himself, in Kate's absence. "Ah! Kate, my love," he cried, as they entered, " come here, lass, and mount guard. I've almost broke my heart in trying to convince that thick-headed goose that he can't set the table i)ioperly. Take it olf my hands, like a good girl. Charley, my boy, you'll be pleased to hear that your old friend Redfeather is here." " Redfeather, father I " exclaimed Charley, in surprise. " Yes j he and the pareon, from the other end of Lake VVinipeg, arrived an hour ago in a tin kettle, and are now on their way to the upper fort." " That is, indeed, pleasant news ; but I suspect that it will give much greater pleasure to our friend Jacques, who, I believe, would be glad to lay down his life for him, simply to prove liis affection." ^- lil ff\ -Jl, 404 SXOWKLAKKS AND SUNBEAMS N A 1 ilii; II' ; i ii I if !:i "I 3 ! : I " i ^ t|!i ! 1^ '!i J 1 15' ,'■' ! W-M '4 " Well, well," siiid tlio old gentleman, kiioeking the ashes out of hi« pipe, and refilling it so as to bo i-cady for an after-dinner smoke, " Redfeather has come, and the parson's come, too, and I look upon it as quite miraculous that they /lave come, considering the t/ti'iir/ they came in. What they've come for is more than I can tell, but I sup- I)ose it's connected with Church affairs. Now, then, Kate, what's come o' the dinner, Kate ? Stir up that gramjnis of a cook ! I half expect that he has boiled the cat for dinner, in his \VTath, for it has been badgering him and me the whole morning. Hallo, Harry, what's wrong 1 " The last exclamation was in consequence of an ex- pression of pain which crossed Harrys lace for a moment. " Nothing, nothing," rej)lied Harry, " I've had a fall from my horse, and bruised my arm a littlo. But I'll see to it after dinner." " That you shall not," cried Mr Kennedy, energetically, dragging his young friend into his bedroom. " Off with your coat, lad. Let's see it at once. Ay, ay," he con- tinued, examining Harry's left arm, which was very much discoloured, and swelled from the elbow to the shoulder, " that's a severe thump, my boy. But it's nothing to speak of; only you'll have to submit to a sling for a day or two." " That's annoying, certainly, but I'm thankful it's no worse," remarked Harry, as Mr Kennedy dressed the arm after his own fashion, and then returned with him to the dining-room F'lOM TlIK FAU NOU'JII. 406 )cking the 3 ready f<»r 0, and tlio inirac\iloiis >y came ill. but I siip- ^iow, then, til" up tliat 3 boiled the L badgering arry, v/hat's 3 of an i'X- ir a moment, ^e had a fall But I'll snergetically, " Off with ay ," he con- as very much le shoulder, s nothing to g for a day or mkful it's no dressed the led with Viim UlIAL^TEll XXX, Lovo. OKI Mr Kennedy puts his f.iot in It. Gnu morning, aV)Out two weeks after Charl('y'.s arrival at lied Iliver, Harry Somerville found liimself alone in Mr Kennedy's parlour, 'i'lu^ (jld gentleman himself had just galloped away in the direction of the lower fort, to visit Charley, who was now formally installed there. Kate was bu.sy in the kitchen giving directions about dinner, and Jacques was away with iledfeather visiting liis numerous friends in the settlement; so that, for the first time since his an-ival, Harry found himself at the hour of ten in the morning utterly lone, and with nothing very definite to do. Of course, the two weeks that had elapsed were not without their signs and symptoms, their minor accidents and incidents, in regard to the subject that filled his thoughts. Harry h.'id fifty times been tossed alter- nately from the height of hope to the depth of despair, from the extreme of felicity to the uttermost vei'ge of sorrow, and he began seriously to reflect, when he re- membered his desperate resolution on the first night of his an.'ival, that if he did not " do," he certainly would " die. " This was quite a mistake, however, on Harry's part Nobody ever did die of unrequited love. Doubt- le-ss many people have hanged, drowned, and shot them- selves because of it ; but, generally speaking, if the patient can be kept from maltreating himself long enough, tm.e ^u: t;|. t •lOG 8N(nVFLAKKS AND SUNllKAMS I I H i\^ 1'' f [\i • ) I hi i 1 •1 in \! -'I 'id i-ia i I l'>! -1!..* if?" ■lil will prove to bo :iii iurulliblo rciacdy. O ymitliful reader! lay this to heart; but, pshaw! wliy do 1 wrusto ink on so hopolcsH a t:i.sk ] AVc/v/ one, we Huppo.se, resolves onee in a way to die of love ; so — die away, my young friends — oidy, make sure tliat you dou't kill your- selve.-?, and I've no fear of the residt. J»ut to return. Kate, likewise, was similarly aflected. She behaved like a porfeet maniac — mentally, that is — and plunged herself, metaphorically, into audi a succession ot hot and cold baths, that it was ({uite a marvel Low her spiritual constitution could stand it. liut we were wrong in saying that Harry was alone in the parlour. The gray cat wius there. On a chair before the tire it sat, looking dishevelled and somewhat blase, in consequence of the ill-treatment and worry to which it was continually subjected. After looking out of the window for a short time, Harry rose, and, sitting down on a chair beside the cat, patted its head, — a mark of attention it was evidently not averse to, but which it received, nevertheless, with marked suspicion, and some indications of being in a condition of armed neutrality. Just then the door opened and Kate entered. " Excuse me, Hany, for leaving you alone," she said, " but T had to attend to several household matteiu Do you feel inclined for a walk 1 " "I do, indeed," replied Harry ; " it is a charming day, and I am exceedingly anxious to see the bower that you have spoken to me about once or twice, and which Charley told me of long before I came here." " Oh ! I shall take you to it, with pleasure," replied Kate ; " my dear father often goes there with me to smoke. If you will wait for two minutes, I'll put on my FUOM THF FAR NOJITII. 407 J youthful do 1 waste awjiy, my L kill yovir- rly aflV'cteil. bhat is — ami ;ucccssu)ii ot vel liow her ^vas alone iu chair before v^liat blase, in to which it out of the sitting down a mark of lit which it n\, and some d neutrality. tie," she said, mattei-s. Do liarming day, iwer that you 3, and which sure," r( eplied with me to ['11 put on my bonnet," and alie hastened to prepare herself for the walk, leaving Harry to caress the cat, which ho did so ener- getically, when he thonght of its young mistress, tliat it instantly declared war and sprang from the chair witli h remonstrativo yell. On their wav down to the bower, whii-h was situated in a })ietures(pie, retired spot on the river's bank, about a mil(! bt;low the house, Harry and Kate tried to conv(>rse on ordinary topics, bnt witlumt success, iind wtre at last almost reduced to sihaice. Onc^ subject alom^ filled their , minds — all othei*s were flat. Ueiug sunk, as it were, in an ocean of love, they no sooner opened their lips to speak than the watei*s rushed in, as a natural consequence, and nearly choked them. Had they but opened their months wide and boldly, they would have been j)leasantly drowned together; but as it was, they lacked the retpiisite conrage, and were fjiin to content themselves with an occasional frantic stniggle to the surface, whercj they gasped a lew words of uninteresting air, and sank again instantly. On arriving at the bower, however, and sitting down. Harry plucked up heart, and, heaving a deep sigh, said — "Kate, there is a subject about wdiich I have long desired to speak to you " Long as he had been desiring it, however, Kate thonght it must have been nothing compared with tlu^ time that elai)sed ere he said anything else ; so she bent over a flower, which she held in her hand, and said, in a Ioav voice — "Indeed, Harry; what is it?" Harry Wiis desperate now. His usually flexible tongue was stiff as stone, and dry as a bit of leather. He could no more give utterance to an intelligible idea, than he could chano-e liimself into Mr Kennedy's gray cat, — a f ' n I lii '! f' 408 SNOWFLAKES AXD SUNBEAMS I ! II % \ ! • n: ! .I'f 1. '(I i "i ; i ■^t ■'< 'I 5 i( i'. • ! ■ I ' : I' S 1 change tliat lie would not have been unwilling to make at that moment. At last he seized his companion's hand, and exclaimed, with a burst of emotion that quite startled her — "Kate! Kate! O dearest Kate, I love y<»u ! I adore you ! i ■ At this point poor Harry's i)owers of si)eech Rpain failed ; so, being utterly unable to express another idea, he suddenly threw his arms round her, and pressed her f(;rvently to his bosom. Kate w^as taken quite aback by this summary method of coming to the point. IlepuLsing him energetically, she exclaimed, while she blushed crimsf)n — " Oh, Harry — Mr Somerville ! " and burst into tears. Poor Harry stood l)efore her for a moment, his head hanging down, and a deep blush of shame on liis face. " Oh, Kate," said he, in '^. deep, tremulous voice, " for- give me ! Do — do forgive me ! I knew not what I said. I scarce knew what I did " (here he seized her hand). " I know but one thing, Kate, and tell it you I will, if it should cost me my life, I lo-\'e you, Kate, to distraction, and I wish you to be my wife. I have been rude — -very rude. Can you forgive me, Kate 1 " Now, this latter part of Harry's speech was particu- larly comical, the comicality of it lying in this — that, while he spoke, he drew Kate gradually towards liin^, an J, at the very time wdien he gave utterance to the penitential remorse for his rudeness, Kate was enfolded in a much more vigorous embrace than at the fii-st; and, what is more remarkable still, she laid her little head quietly on his shoulder, as if she had quite changed her FROM T[rE FAR NORTH. 409 ing to make Lnion's hand, iiite startled )U ! I adore ipeccli again mother idea, pressed her :nary method •getically, she d hurst into ent, his liead [1 his face. s voice, " for- not what 1 ho seized lior tell it you ] you, Kate, to I have been te?" was particu- 11 this — that, towards him, ranee to the was enfolded ;he first; and, icr little head changed her mind in regard to what was and what was not rude, and rather enjoyed it than otherwise. While the lovers stood in this interesting position, it became ai)parent to Harry's olfactory nerves that tlie atmosphere was impregnated with tobacco smoke. Look- ing hastily up, he beheld an apparition that tended some- what to increase the confusion of his faculties. In the opening of the bower stood Mr Kennedy, senior, in a state of inexpressible amazement. We say inexpressible advisedly, because the extreme pitcli of feel- ing which Mr Kennedy experienced at what he beheld before him, cannot possibly be expressed by human visage. As far as the countenance of man could do it, however, we believe the old gentleman's came pretty near the mark on this occasion. His hands were in his coat-pockets, his body bent a little forward, his head and neck outstretched a little beyond it, his eyes almost starting from the sockets, and, certainly, the most pro- minent feature in his face; his teeth firmly clenched on his beloved pipe, and his lips exj)elling a multitude of little clouds so vigorously, that one might have taken him for a sort of self-acting intelligent steam-gun, that ha was under the neces- sity of laying violent restraint on his feelings, — a restraint which, it was evident, could not last long. At that i\ if f'. 'M i\2 SyOWFLAKKS AN^D SUNBEAM'? 1 t 1(1 i,ii If • ;piii 'I s If I 11 1 1 s :3|; ! ' (ii moment, to his great relief, his eye suddenly fell on t!\e gray cat, wliicli happened to be reposing innocently on the door-step. " 2''hat''s it ! There's the whole cause of it at last !" cried Mr Kennedy, in a perfect paroxysm of excitement, fling- ing his pipe violently at the unoffending victim as he rushed towards it. The [)ipe missed the cat, but went with a sharp crash through the parlour window, at which Charley was seated, while his father darted through the doorway, along the passage, and into the kitchen. Here the cat, having first capsized a pyramid of pans and ket- tles in its consternation, took refuge in an absolutely unassailable position. Seeing this, Mr Kennedy violently discharged a pailful of water at the spot, strode rapidly to his own apartment, and locked himself in. " Dear me, Hany, what's wrong 1 My father seems unusually excited," said Charley, in some astonishment, as Harry entered the room and flung liimself on a chair with a look of chagrin. " It's difficult to say, Charley ; the fact is, I've asked your sister Kate to be my wife, and your father seems to have gone mad with indignation," "Asked Kate to be your wife !" cried Charley, starting up, and regarding his frfend with a look of amazement. " Yes I have," replied Harry, with an air of offended dignity ; " I know very well that I am unworthy of her, but I see no reason why you and your father should take such pains to make me feel it." " Unworthy of her, my dear fellow !" exclaimed Char- ley, grasping his hand and wringing it violently; "no doubt you are, and so is everybody, but you shall have her FROM THK FAK NORTH. 413 fell on the ocently on ast!" cried nent, fling- ;tim as be 'a went with ^ at which hrough the lien. Here ns and ket- absolutely dv violently le rapidly to atlier seems jtonishment, f on a chair for all that, my boy. But tell me, IFany, ha^n yon -pokon to Kate herself?" " Yes T have." "And does she agree?" • "Well, I think I may say she does." "Have yon told my father that she does?" ''Why, as to that," said Harry, with a perplexed smih, lie didnt need to be told, he made /./...,/ypvettv well aware of the facts of the case." "Ah ! I'll soon settle /./;.," cried Charley ; "keep yonr mind easy, old fellow, Til very soon bring him round " ^^ith this assurance, Charley gave his friend's hand another shake that nearly wrenched the arm frr,m his shoulder, and hastened out of the room in se^irch of hL^ refractory father 3, I've asked lier seems to rlcy, starting mazement. r of offended worthy of her, !r slionld take claimed Cbar- iolently; "no shall have her % n at ,\ 'I 414 SNOW FLAKES AXD SUNBEAMS H i (J J .' ' CHAPTER XXX ]. The course of true love, curiously pnnii;rli,rnns smooth for once ; and the curtain fulls. i I , i Mm4. 'ii ' MM Time rolled on, and with it tlic snnLcams of summei went — the snowflakes of winter came. Needles of ice began to shoot across the surface of Red River, and gradu- ally narrowed its hed. Crystaline trees formed upon the window panes. Icicles depended from the eves of the houses. Snow fell in abundance on the plains ; liquid nature began rapidly to solidify, and, not many weeks after the first frost made its appearance, every- thing was (as the settlers expressed it) " hard and fast." Mr Kennedy, senior, was in his parlour, with his Imck to a blazing w^iod fire that seemed large enough to roast an ox whole. He was standing, moreover, in a semi- picturesque attitude, with his right hand in his breeches pocket and his left arm round Kate's waist. Kate was dressed in a gOAvn that rivalled the snow itself in white- ness. One little gold clasp shone in her bosom ; it was the only ornament she wore. INIr Kennedy, too, liad somewhat altered his style of costume. He wore a sky- blue swallow-tailed coat, wdiose maker had flourished in London half a century before. It had a velvet collar about five inches deep ; fitted uncommonly tight to the figure, and liad a pair of bright brass buttons, veiy close together, situated half a foot above the wearei-'s natural 1 I ITROM THE FAll NORTH. 415 ,nd the curtiUn )f summei dies of ice and gradn- ,rmed upon the eves oi tlie plains; 1 not many •ancc, every- and fast." /itli liis Itack ivdi to roast in a semi- liis breeches Kate was iclf in wliite- 3som ; it was dy, too, h;-i'A ) wove a sky- flourislied in velvet collar tight to the •ns, very close avci-'s natural waist. Besides tliis, lie had on u canaiy-coloured vest, and a pair of white duck trowsers, in the fob of wliich evidetUh/ reposed an immense gold watch of the olden ti^ae, with a bniK'h of seals that woukl have served very well fus all anchor for a small boat. Although the dress was, on tlic whole, slightly comical, its owner — with liis full, fat, broad ligure — looked remarkably well in it nevertheles.s. It was Kate's marriage-day, or, rather, mari'iage even- ing, for the sun had set two hours ago, and the moon was now sailing in the frosty sky, its pale rays causing the whole country to shine witli a e1ear, cold, silvery whiteness. The old gentleman had been for some time gazing in silent admiration on the fair brow and clustering ringlets of his daughter, when it suddenly occurred to him that the company would arrive in half an hour, and there were several things still to be attended to. ** Hallo, Kate ! " he exclaimed, with a start, " we're forgetting ourselves. Tlu; candles are yet to light, and lots of other things to doj" saying this, he began to bustle about the room in a state of considerable agita- tion. " Oh ! don't worry yourself, dear father," cried Kate, running after him and catching him by the hand. " Miss Cookumwell, and good Mrs Taddipopple, are arranging everything about tea and supper in the kitchen; and Tom WJiyte has been kindly sent to us by ]Mr Grant, \^'ith orders to make himself generally useful, so he can light the candles in a foAv minutes, and you've nothing to do but to kiss me and receive the comj)any." Kate [)ulled her father gently towards the fire again, and re placed his arm round her waist. '»'! y I I 41G .SXOWFLAKi;^ AND SUNnKAMS |h|14) l'=: ; I If' w (-11 ii iHWi 1 1 % \\ ' \\ Hi } '4 t\ I r |;|5 : ^ i« "Receive company! Ah! Kate, my love, that's jus*, what I know notliiiig about. U' tliey'd h.'t me receive them in my own way, l\l do it well cnoiigli ; but tliat abominable ]\Ii\s Taddi — what'.s her name, has quite addled my bi-ains and driven me distracted with trying to get me to understand what she calls etiquette.'" Kate laughed, and said she didn't care Iiow he received them, as she was quite sure that, whichever way he did it, he would do it })leasant]y and well. At that moment the door opened, and Tom Whyte entered, lie was thinner, if i)ossible, than he used to be, and consideraljly stiiTer, and more upright. " Pleas(;, sir," said he, with a motion that made you ex])ect to heal' his back creak, (it was intended fur a bow) — " please, sir, can I do hanythink for yer ?" " Yes, Tom, you can," replied Mr Kennedy ; " light these candles, my man, and then go to tlie stable and see that everything there is arranged for putting u]) the horses. It will be ])retty full to-night, Tom, and will require sonu? management ; then, let me see — ah ! yes, bring me my i)ipe, Tom, my big meerschaum, I'll sport that to-uight in honour of you, Kate." " Please, sir," began Tom, with a slightly disconcerted air, *' I'm afeer'd sir, that — um "' *' Well, Tom, what would you say? Go on." " The pipe, sir," said Tom, growing still more discon- certed ; " says I to cook, says I, ' Cook, wots been an' done it, d'ye think ? ' ' Dun know, Tom,' says he, * but it's smashed, that's sartin. I think the gray cat ' " " What ! " cried the old trader, in a voice of thunder, while a frown of the most portentous ferocity darkened lu& brow for an instant. It was only for an instant, how- rU(»M THK F.\U NOHTIl. liat's jvist. ic receive but that has (luite itli trying \Q received vay h« t^J^^ om Whyte he used to : made you ended lor a er 1 " cdy ; " liglit al)le and see the and will 30— ah! yes, im, I'll sport disconcerted 'J )n. more discon- ,M)ts been an' says he, ' hut cat e of thunder, city darkened instant, bow- ing U]) ni over. Clearing liis Wnnv fjiiiekly, he said witli a smile '* But it's your w«;d(rmg-day, Kato, my darling. It won't do to blow up anybody to-day — not (svcn the cat. There, bo off, Tom, and see to things. Look sharp ! I hear sleigh-bells already." As he spoke, Tom vanished perpendicularly; Kate hastened to her room, and the old gentleman himself went to the front door to receive his guests. The night was of that intensely calm and still chartic- ter that invariably accompanies intense frost, so that the merry jingle of the sleigh-bells that struck on JNIr Kennedy's listening ear, continued to sound, and grow louder as they drew near, for a considerable time ere the visitors arrived. Presently, the dull, soft tramp of horses' hoofs was heard in the snow, and a well-known voice shouted out lustily, '* Now, then, Mactavish, kce}) to the left. Doesn't the road take a tnvn there 1 IVIind the gap in the fence. That's old Kennedy's only fault. He'd rather risk breaking his friends' necks, than mend his fences ! " "All right, here we are," cried i\i.ictavish, as, the next instant, two sleighs emerged out of the avenue into the moonlit space in front of the house, and dashed up to the door amid an immense noise and clatter of bells, harness, hoofs, snorting, and salutations. " Ah ! Grant, my dear fellow," cried jMr Kennedy, springing to the sleigh and seizing his friend by the hand as he dragged him out. " This is kind of you to come early — and j\Irs Grant, too — take care, my dear madam, step clear of the haps — now, then — cleverly done " (as Mrs Grant tumbled into his arms in a conlused heap) — "come along now — tlitsre's a caj)ital fire in liere — don't !■ < _^3?»ie- '0i n 118 JNOWFLAKES AMI) SUNHKAMft in: I I ,11-1 1; 1 a H ^ i 1 i ^''*^' ' 1 i 1 F »■! I '^ ' ♦ '< 1 '1 p j ! V it'* 1- : ; 1 <:■; J ■ n'H . ' ( i ■ ^1^^ . ■: in ' ' ' ' t '■ i '^ 1 'i \ i' 1 ; i ,.■ ( i ^ : , r } ^ •t r 1 ' ; i . . 1 ''! !• 1. \ i 1 g ■ ■ i I nil 1(1 tlie horses, Miictavi.sli — loUovv us, my lad — Tom Wliytc will attend to tlioni." Uttering such disjointed remarks, Mr Kennedy led Mrs Grant into the house, and made her over to Mi-s Taddii»oj)j)le, who hurried her away to an inner apart- in(!nt, while Mr Kenntidy conducted her spouse, along with Mactavish and our friend the head clerk at Fort Garry, into the parlour. " llarry, my dear fellow, I wish you joy," cried Mr Grant, as the former grasped his hand. "Lucky dog you are. Where's Kate ? eh ! Not visible yet, I suppose." " No, not till the parson comes," interrupted Mr Kennedy, convidsing his left cheek. " Hallo, Charley, whei'o arc you ? Ah ! bring the cigars, Charley. Sit down, gentlemen ; make yourselves at home. I say, Mrs Taddi — Taddi — oli ! botheration — poj)ple ! — that's it — your name, madam, is a puzzler — but-;— we'll need more chaii-s I think. Fetch one or two, like a dear ! " As he spoke, the jingle of bells was heard outside, and Mr Kennedy rushed to the door again. " Good evening, Mr Addison," said he, taking that g(!ntleman warmly by the hand as he resigned the reins to Tom Whyte. " I am delighted to see you, sir — look after the minister's mare, Tom — glad to see you, my dear sir — some of my friends have come already — this way, Mr Addison." The worthy clergyman res}>onded to INIr Kennedy's greeting in his own hearty manner, and followed him into the parlour, where the guests now began to assemble ra])idly. " Father," cried Charley, catching his sire by the arm, " I've been looking for you everywhere, l)ut you danr''" FIU)M THK lAlf NOIITII, 410 ad— Tom iipcdy k"u know I've invited my friends Jaocpies and lledfeatlu'i- to come to-niglit, and also Louis Peltier, tlie guide, with wlmm I made my first trip. You recollect liim, father?" "Ay, that do I, lad, and happy shall I ho to see three such worthy men under my roof, as guests cii this night." " Yes, yes, I know that, fatlier, hut 1 don't see tliem iiere. Have they came yc;t 1 " "Can't say, hoy. By the way. Pastor Conway is also coming, so we'll have t meeting between an I*]pisc())»aliaM and a W^sleyan. I si w merely trust that they won't light !" As he said thl;, tlu old gentleman grinned and threw his cheek into cuiiv. isions — an expression which was suddenly changetl into iuc of confu.sion, when he ob- served that Mr Addi^ i was standing close beside him, and had heard V.? Tcmark. "Don't blusl , m^ dear sir," said ^Tr Addison, with a quiet smile, as ho i)atted his frienii ui the shoulder. " You have too much reason, I am sorry to say, for expecting that clergymen of dilferent denominations should look coldl)' on each other. There is far too much of this indiderence and distrust among those who laboui' in different parts of the Lord's vineyard. But I trust you will find tliat my sym])athies extend a little beyond the Ci :(■- of my own particular body. Indeed, INlr Conway is a particular friend of mine ; so 1 assure you we won't fight." ••Right, right," cried Mr Kennedy, giving the chsrgy- man an energ(!tic grasp of the hand ; " I like to hear you speak that way. I must confi!SS that I have been a good deal surprised to oKserve, by what one reads in the old- country newspapin's, as wi;]] ;us l»y what one sees even r^if^ 420 SXOWFJ.AKKS AND SUNBKAMS lit i' n-, if'' r i-i ' n h ; 1 J ■ , '{ I i;iH ' ;i • u horcaway in tlie backwood settlements, liow little interest clergymen shew in the doings of those who don't ha2)|)en to belong to their own particular sect, just as if a soul saved through the means of an Episcoj)alian was not of as much value as one saved by a Wesleyan, or a Presby- terian, or a Dissenter; why, sir, it seems to me just as mean-spirited and selfish, us if one of our chief factors was so entirely taken up with the doings and success of his own })articular district, that he didn't care a gunfiint for any other district in the Company's service." There was at least one man listening to tliese remarks, whose naturally logical and liberal mind fully agreed with them. This wiis Jacques Caradoc, who had entered the room a few minutes before, in company with his friend lledfeather and Louis Peltier. " Right, sir ! That's fact, straight up and down," said he, in an approving tone. " Pla! Jacques, my good fellow, is that you? iledfoather, my friend, iiow are you?" said Mr Kennedy, turning round and grasping a hand of each. *' Sit down there, Louis, beside iNLrs Taddi — eh? — ah ! — popple. Mr Addison, this is Jac(pies Caradoc, the best and stoutest hunter between Hudson's Lay and Oregon." Jacques smiled and bowed modestly, as Mr Addison shook his liantL The worthy hunter did indeed, at that moment, look as if he fully merited Mr Kennedy's eulogium. Instead of endeavouring to ape the gentleman, as many men in his rank of life would have been likely to do on an occasion like this, Jacques had not altered his costume a haii'sbreadth from what it usually was, excepting that some parts of it were quite new, and all of it faidt- lessly clean. He wore the usual capote, but it was his Fi;OM THE FAU NOllTli. 421 le interest I't happen J if a soul ,'as not of a Presby- nc just as lief factors 1 success of I a sjrunflint k iHC remarks, agreed witli entered tlie II liis friend down," said iledfeatlier, ridy, turning luwn there, Mr Addison, Litest hunter Mr Addison deed, at that r Kennedy's ic gentleman, ■e been likely Lot altered his vas, excepting lU of it fa\dt- ut it was his Lwwt one, and had been washed for tlie occasion. The scarlet belt and blue lej^i^ius were also as bright in colour as if they had been ])ut on for the first tiiiii>, iiiid the moccasins, which fi'ted closely to his well-formed feet, were of tlie eleanest and bi-ightest yellow leather, orna- mented, as usual, in front. Tlu; colhir of his blue stripci] shirt was folded back a little more carefully than usual, exposing his sunburnt and muscular throat ; in fact, he wanted nothing, save the hunting knife, the rifle, and the powder-horn, to constitute him a perfect specimen of a thorough backwoodsman. Redfeather and Louis were similarly costumed, and a noble trio they looked, as they sat motU'stly in a corner, talking to each other in whispers, and endeavouring, as much as possible, to cui-tail their colossal proportions. "Now, Harry," said ]Mr Kennedy, in a hoarse whisjter, at the same time winking vehemently, "we're about ready, lad. Where's Kate? eh? shall we send for hei-?" Ilarrv blushed, and stammered out soniethiny; that was wholly unintelligible, but which, nevertheless, seenieil to afford infinite delight fo the old gentleman, who chuckled and winkcul trcnnendously, gave his son-indaw a facetious poke in the ribs, and turning abru])tly to ]Miss CookumwelljSaidto that lady — ''Xow, ^M issCookum|)o[)[)le, we're all readv. They seem to lia\"e had enout ])anso in tlic hiiin of conversation, and, ere Kate was well aware of what was about to happen, she (I'lt herself suddenly end)raced by her husband, from wlioni slie was thereafter violently torn, and all but smothered by her sympathising friends. Poor Kate! she had gone through tJie ceremony almost mechanically — recJdessJij, we might be justified in saying; lor not having raised her eyes off the floor, from its com- mencenient to its close, the man whom she accepted for better or for worse might have been Jacques or lled- feather, for all that she knew. Immediately after this, thero was heard the sound of a fiddle, and an old Canadian wa.: led to the uppc^r end of the room, placed on a chair, and hoisted, by the powerful arms of Jacques and Louis, ujion a tal)lc. In this conspi- cuous })osition the old man seemed to be quite at his ease. lie spent a few minutes in bringing his instrument into perfect tune ; then, looking round with a mild patronising glance to see that the dancers were ready, he suddenly struck up a Scotch reel with an amount of energy, preci- sion, and spirit that might have shot a j^ang of jealousy through the heart of Neil Gow himself. The noise that instantly commenced, and was kept up from that moment, with but few intervals, during the whole evening, was of a kind that is never heard in fashionable drawing-rooms. Dancing, in the backwood settlements, is dancing. It is not walking ; it is not sailing ; it is not \indulating ; it is not sliding; no, it is /-'ona^/ff/c' dancing ! It is the perform- ance of intricate evolutions with the feet and legs that makes one wink to look at. Performed in good time too, aad by people who look upon all their muscles as being :l K FROM THE FAR N0I5TII. 423 aordinary , and, ere luul, from a all but ony almost in saying ; m its C(nn- ccepteil tor cs or Pvcd- j sound of a pper end oi lie powerful this conspi- at liis ease. Irument into patronising |lie suddenly icrgy, preci- of jealousy c noise that ,hat moment, ning, was of |l wing-rooms, ng. It is [dating; it is ithe perform- nd legs that ;K)d time too, :li«s as being useful machines, not merely things of whicli a select few, that cannot he dispensed with, are brought into daily operation. Consequently tlie tiling was done with an amount of vigour that was CDuducive to the health of prriormers, and productive of satisfaction to the eyes of b-li(hlers. When the evening wore on apace, however, and Jacques' modesty was so fai- overcome as to induce him to engage in a reel, along with his friend Louis IVi- tier and two bouncing young ladies, whose fathei* bad driven them twenty miles ovt-r the plains tliat day in order to attend th(! wedding of their dear friend and former })layniate, Kate — when these four stood up, we say, and the fiddler played more energetically than ever, and the stout backwoodsmen bofxan to warm and i^row vigorous, until, in the midst of their tremendous leaps and rapid but well-timed moti(uis, they looked like very giants amid their brethren, then it was that ITarry, as he felt Kate's little hand pressing his arm, and observed lier s[)arkling eyes ga/ing at the dancers in genuine admira- tion, began at last finnly to believe that the whole thing was a dream; and then it was that old Mr Kennedy rejoiced to think that the house had lu^en built under liis own si)ecial directions, and he knew that it ccndd not, ])y any possibility, be shaken to pieces. And well might ITarry imagine that lie dreauKMl ; f(jr, besides the bewihlering tendency of the almost too-good - to-be-true fact that Kate was really Mrs Harry Somer- ville, the scene before him was a i)articularly odd and perplexing mixture of widely different elements — sugges- tive of new and old associations. The company was miscellaneous. There were retired old traders, wjiose lives from boyhood had \)cc\\ sj)cnt in danger, solitude, 424 SXOWFLAKFS AND Si:\REAMS M I? , . V :.; ' I hlh^'i: '4 % wild scenes and adventures, to wliicli tliose of llol)inson Crusoe are mere cliil(rs-})lay. Tliero were young girls, the (laughters of these men, who liad received good educations in the Red River academy, and a ccrt.ain degree of polish whicli education always gives — a very dij/b-cnt polish, in- deed, from that which the conventionalities and retinements of the old ^V()l•ld bestow, but not the less aeople and young folk ; there were fat and lean, short and long. There were songs too ; ballads of England, j)athetic songs of Scotland, alternating with the French ditties of Canada, and the sweet, inexpressibly plaintive canoe-songs of the voyagciir. There were strong contrasts in dress also — some wore tlie honie-spun trousers of the settlement, a few the ornamented leggins of the hunter FROM TIIK FAR NOHTIl. 125 Llobiiison pointed love, or some such trash, which was a false sentiment in itself, and certainly did not derive any additional tinge of truthfulness from a thin, weak v. ice, that was afflicted with chronic flatness, i\\\([ edycd aW its notes. Were we courageous enough to go on, we would further relate to you how, during sujjper, Mr Kennedy, senior, tried to make a speech, and broke down amid up- roarious api)lause ; how ]\Ir Kennedy, junior, got up thereafter, — being urged thereto by his father, who said, with a convulsion of the cheek, " Get mo out of the scrape, Charley, my boy," — and delivered an oration, which did not display much power of concise elucidation, but was replete, nevertheless, with consummate impu- dence ; how, during this point in the proceedings, the gray cat made a last desperate eflbi't to purloin a cold chicken, which it had watched anxiouf^ly the whole even- ing, and was caught in the very act,- -nearly strangled, and flung i)ut of the window, where it alighted in safety on the snow, and fled — a wiser, and, we trust, a better cat. We would recount all this to you, reader, and a FROM THF r\n xonrir 4 27 to Mr Con correspond er that their for the scane iV, in a spirit :)t'), a bashful ,'hich, in the irrht to have g, or a good, , but what it wasting gra- on account of :h was a false t derive any 1, weak v'.ice, d edged all its on, we would Mr Kennedy, Own amid up- nior, got up |her, who said, HO out of the ll an oration, se elucidation, mmate impu- |ocecdings, the lurloin a cold e whole even- irly strangled, :,hted in safety rust, a better reader, and a rrnmt deal more bcsidos ; but we fear to try your j)atit'nce, and we tremble violently, nuich more so, indeed, than you will believe, at the bare idea of waxing prosy. Suffice it to say, that the party separated at an early hour — a good, sober, reasonable hour for such an occa- sion — somewhere before midnight. The horses were harnes.sed, the ladies were packed in the sluiglis with i'nru so thick and plentiful as to defy the cold; the gentlejneu seized their reins, and cracked their whips — the horses snorted, plunged, and dashelv("l to make iMiothei*jourm;y to 28 428 SNOWFLAKES AND SUNBEAMS '•f^ . 'ill f -I f Mil preach the gospel of Jesus Christ to those Indian tribes that inliabit tl)« regions beyond Athabasca; and being a man of great energy, he determined not to await the opening of the river navigation, but to undertake the first part of Ins exjiedition on snow-slioes. Jac(pies agreed to go witli liim as guide and Ininter — Redfeather as interpreter. It w;is a briglit, cohl morning wlien he set out, accom- panied part of tlie way by Cliarley Kennedy and Harry Somerville, whose hearts were heavy at the prospect of parting with the two men who had guided and protected them during their earliest experience of a voyageur''s life — wlicn, vnth hearts full to overflowing with romantic anticijiations, they first dashed joyously into the almost untrodden wilderness. During their career in the woods together, the young men and the two hunters had become warmly attached to each other ; and, now that they were about to pai-t — it miglit be for yeai's, perhaps for ever — a feeling of sadness crept over them, which they could not shake off, and which the promise given by Mr Conway to revisit Red River on the following spring, served but slightly to flispel. On arriving at the spot where they intended to bid their friends a last farewell, the two young men held out their hands in silence. Jacques grasped them warmly. " Mister Charles, INIister Harry," said he, in a deep, earnest voice, "the Almighty has guided us in safety for many a day when we travelled the woods together — for which praised be His holy name ! "May He guide and bless you still, and bring us together in this world again, if in His wisdom He see fit." There was no answer, save a dee])ly -murmured KROJl TIIK FAR NORTH. 11^9 11 tribes Uml ^eing a man the opening first part of d to go witii interpreter. out, accom- y and Harry c prospect of and protected f a voyagmr's with romantic to the almost ■•i\nien." In another moment, tlie travellers resumed their march. On reaching the summit of a slight emi- nence, where t)ie prairies terminated and the woods began, they paused to wave a last adieu ; then Jacques, putting himself at the head of the little ])arty, plungwl into the forest, and hid them away towards the snowy regions of the Far North. 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STORIES OF THE DOG, AND HIS COUSINS THE WOLF, THE JACKAL, AND THE HYENA. Witli Stories Illiistratin;;- tlieir I'laee iii tlic Animal World, liy Mrs. Ill Gil iAIiLiiKK. With Thirtv-four Knyravinys. Foolseai) Bvo, eloth. I'rieo Is. (id. STORIES OF THE CAT, AND HER COUSINS THE LION, THE TIGER, AND THE LEOPARD. With Stories Illustrating;' their I'laee in the Animal World. liy Mrs. Un.n MiLi.KK. With Tweiitv-nino Eni;Tavin);s. I'oolseap S\o, eloth. I'rice Is. (id. TALKS WITH UNCLE RICHARD ABOUT WILD ANIMALS. l>y .Mrs. fiKonos C'ipplkh. With Seventy-five Illiis- tratioMs. Irinio, cloth. I'rice Is. (id. MAMMA'S STORIES ABOUT DOMESTIC PETS. P.y Mrs. (iKoiuiK Cri-riiKs. With Fiftv-six Illustrations. ISmo, cloth. I'riee Is. Od. IN THE FOREST ; or, Pictures of Life and Scenery in the Woods of Canada. A Tale. By -Mrs. Tii.ui.i,, Author of " The Canatlian ("nisoes," &c. With Nineteen Engravings. Post Svo, cloth. I'riee in. (jd. THINGS IN THE FOREST. P.y M.\ry and Elizaiietii Kirhy. With Coloured Frontispiece, and Fifty Illustrations. Iloj-al ISmo. cloth. Price Is. 6d. T, NELSON' AND SONS, LONDON, KDINBUKUH, AND NEW YORK. ATED. lers and ilACUMl'.U.I. 9 Animal MKii. Illns- ,1, (.tinnivid , nilt c'llycs. iVo See," >^'c. ilotli extra. I LIVES. I) S\{), elotli, 3CRIBED nii;is. I'ost lOSITIES (litions, iuul 5t bvo, clotli INS THE A. ^Vith V Mrs. IlKiii loth. I'rico llNS THE ID. NVith i\ Mrs. llKiii (loth. I'riiJO It wild tt\ live Ilhis- ;ets. r.y II81U0, cloth. Icenery in li,, Author of Is. I'ost Svo, IliETH KiKBY. Illoyal 18mo. Iv YORK.. BOOKS FOR BOYS. BY ^ H G KINGSTON. IN THE EASTERN SEAS; or, The Region.s of the Bird of Paradise. .A 'I'al' I't I;u\>. Witii one iimiiinil nini Kii.\\o, tloth, rirhlv ;;iit. I'rkr (is, IN THE WILDS OF AFRICA." With .si\t\ six Iliiistration.s. ( iu\Mi ,>\c), cjiitli, rirhlv '^ilt. I'riic ii-i. ROUND THE WORLD. A T.iW U>v I'.o.vs. With liifytwo Kn- ui:i\ in;;-<. t'rowii .>\o, cluth i'\tr;i. I'riic .'•,-. OLD JACK. \ Sill Tale. With Sixty Kiiunn iii^;^. Crown Svo, rldtli extra. Vv'nv 'is. MY FIRST VOYAGE TO SOUTHERN SEAS. With Inrty- two |-;il;^l':i\ ilii;-!. Crciun ^\.i, rldth lAlra. I'lhf .'■•<, THE SOUTH SEA WHALER. A st.,ry of tiiv F.oss of the <'/i(tiiij>ii>ii, iu\i\ {\w Ailviiitiins (if hir Crew. With Thirty i;tii;rav- iiiu-i. Crown >iV(>, cluth extra. I'riee .'is. SAVED FROM THE SEA ; or. The Los.s of vhe " Viper," and the Adventures of her Crew in the Desert of Sahara. Witii Thirtytwo Knyrav in^s. Crown ftvo, elotli extra. Price fis. THE YOUNG RAJAH. A Story of Indian Life and Adventure. With l''()rt\ fmn- Kn-rav ini;s. Crow n Sv o, cloth. I'rice .'■-. THE WANDERERS: or, Adventnre.s in the Wilds of Trinidad and up the Orinoco. With 'iinrtv -one l';n<;ravinys. Crown 8\i>, ( liitii. Price .'is. TWICE LOST. A Story of Shipwreck, and Adventure in the Wildg (if .\ustialia. W ith Fortv-six l';ii;;rav in^s. Crown svo, cidth Price Tis. THE YOUNG LLANERO. A Story of War and W ild Life in \'enezuela. With l-'ortv four ilnuraviin^'-s. Crown Svo, clotii. I'riee .''is. IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. A Tale of Adventure. With l''orty-one l';n'.;-rav in^s, post >?vo, clotii. I'riee lis. dd. IN NEW GRANADA ; or. Heroes and Patriots. .\ Tale for Poys. With nuuiei, i-lotli. Price :5s. lid. THE CORAL ISLAND. A Talc of the I^uific. With Illustrations. Post b\o, cl'ith. Price oS. (Id. MARTIN RATTLER; or, A Boy's Adventures in the P'ore.stS of Brazil. Witii Illustrations. Post Svo, cloth. Price ;is. Ud. THE DOG CRUSOE AND HIS MASTER. A Tale of the Western Prairies. Witli Mhistrations. Post sso, cloth. Price os. *Jd. THE GORILLA HUNTERS. A Vale of Western Africa. With Illustrations. Post ^vo, clotii. Price ;!s (Id. THE WORLD OF ICE; or. Adventures in the Polar Reg'ions. With En-rax in^s. i'ost S\o, cloth. Price ;i.s. od. THE OCEAN AND ITS WONDERS. Witii Sixty Engradntrs. I'ost s\o, clotli extra. Price lis. ♦♦ TALES FOR THE HOME CIRCLE. LOOK AT THE BRIGHT SIDE. A Tale for the Youn-. 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Price Is. l\V YORK. ♦« THf: GOLDEN CROWN SERIES OF BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG. ADA AND GERTY; or, Hand in Hand Heavenward. A '{'ale. |;\ l.iiii^A M. (Ii:av. I'ust >V(i. cluth > \ti-a. I'lir • ;'.>, f'.ij. NELLY'S TEACHERS, AND WHAT THEY LEARNED. A Talc lor the Voiiii'.;-. 1!\ Katk Tilni'.M-:. I'ricc 3s. (Id. STEPPING HEAVENWARD. A Tal.' of Itmnc l.if,.. F.y the Aiilliur ui •' Tlir Fl'iwrr of tin' Faiuils'." Pi'^t --nci, clcith. I'rii r :!>. cd, BY THE SAME AUTHOR, EVER HEAVENWARD; or, A Mother's Influence. Fo\(), cloth. Vlirr •!<. C.d. THE FLOWER OF THE FAMILY. A Talnf I)niiu>ti<' Life. I'o^t .^v.i, clDth. I'ricc -Js. c.d. HERMAN; or, The Little Preacher : LITTLE THREADS: and THE STORY LIZZIE TOLD. Witl, I'.Mir inu>tiati..n.s I'riiited in Colours. I'ost :?\ (j, cloth extra. Friru -Js. cd. WOEKS BY THE EEV. EICHARD NEWTON, D.D. IN BIBLE LANDS. A Narrative oi Travel in the Fast. With Sixty FiijraN iic-;s. I'ricc 3s. (id. PEBBLES FROM THE BROOK. A Fonk for tiie Yoiin- With Fiuhtccii Fiill-iiaue illu>trati()iis. I'ricc -Js. THE KING'S HIGHWAY ; or, Illustrations of the Com- niandnientS. with Xmncrous Fii;;i-aviiit:s. post .^vd. I'rice il-. NATURE'S WONDERS. With Fifty-tiirce Fimraviir.^s. l',,>t. ■'-NO, elnth c'Xtra. I'ricc "Js. Cil. THE GIANTS, AND HOW TO FIGHT THEM. F.y the Kew lIUHAiui Ni:\vinN, D.j). Willi Cnloiircl I'liuiti-iuece and numerous lai'-rax inus. lto\al Lmiio. I'riee Is. NEW EDITIONS OF STANDARD WOEKS. JOSEPHUS THE WORKS OF FLAVIUS JOSEPHQS Translated liy Wii:.-rn\. With Thirty-i\ liiu-tralions. s\ o. .)s, ',:|. BUNYAN'S PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Witli Twentvfour Illustrations. I'ost ,s\.>, ( |.,fh. Price l's. ANNALS OP THE POOR. Fy the itcv. Li:un Fuiimond Royal iMlin. I'ricc Is. GAUSSEN'S WORLD'S BIRTHDAY, lilnstrate.l. Fonls.ap !^vo. Price i!s. (;d. FAVOURITE NARRATIVES FOR THE CHRISTIAN HOUSEHOLD. Contnininu- : - Tiif. Shi ciiiim. oc S \i,i-i;i i:v i'l, \is --'i'lIK DaIKVMAN'.S D.MlillTKIl— Till'; \'olNi:- CoTTA'.Ki;, vVe. I'ost. •-\(), cloth. I'rice 'Is. T. M'l.SOV AN'I' SONS, I.KNIiDV, K HI N Kl ' l!i MI, ASM" V|;\V MillK ._L.Uiiw«^V— »-^ 'i If II ll AV li ]■■ :.r, ! ■ !■! ' , M II f:li H . ■ ;i 1 NEW SERIES OF PRIZES AND PRESENTATION BOOKS. -♦♦- THT51 EUPHRATES AND THE TIGRIS. A Narrative of |)is(. ^isti'v ami Aih i iitmv. With a I )i -,i-i|if Imh of tin: IJniiis ni I!al)yloii and NiiicM li. With Ij-litccii lull iia;;c Illustration.". Post S\o, ilotli r\tra. l'ritrations. l'o>t H\T), cloth extra. I'rirc I's. THE JORDAN AND ITS VALLEY, AND THE DEAD SEA. l!\ thr AiitliMr of ••Tlu' .Mcditcrrnncan lllir-tratrd." roit.x - Tne JMi^'rax iii^N. I'ricc 'Js. THE STORY OF IDA PFEIFFER AND HER TRAVELS IN MANY LANDS. With 'l'urnt\ (ivu Fulli.a-o En-ravin-s. I'ost >S\(i, eh, Ml rxtra. I'l'irr 'Js. THE STORY OF THE LIFE AND TRAVELS OP ALEX- ANDER VON HUMBOLDT. With Twenty-seven Full-iKi-e' l'JiL;ra\ ini;s. I'ostSvo, clulh extra. I'riee lis. THE AMAZON AND ITS WONDERS. With Illustrations of Animal and W'u'etahlc Life in tin Annzonian Forest. With T\\ent\ - six l"ull-iia.;c I'jiui'av in'.;s. I'ost ii\o, eloth extra. I'rico 'Js. IN THE FAR EAST. A Narrative of Fx]iIoration and Adventun^ in Ciiihin-Chiiia, Canihodia, Laos, and Siani. With Tweiity-eiuht I'ull |ia'^e I'".n.;ra\ inu's. I'list Sno, cloth txtra. Price "Js. GIBRALTAR AND ITS SIEGES. With a Des.rii.tiot, of iis Natural Features. With luuhteeii Full-jia'^e Illustrations. I'ost s\(i, cloth extra. Price 'Js. CALIFORNIA AND ITS WONDERS. I!y the Pev. John Toiui, |).1>. .\ New l-'.ditiuii, t'arcinlly I'cvjscd and hrou'^ht down to the iircseiit time. With Seventeen Full-imue lllustratiuns. I'riee l's. TEMPERANCE TALES. FIRST PRIZE TEMPERANCE TALE. 1H79. SOUGHT AND SAVED. A Tale. P.y Miss :\l. A, Pavi.t,, Author of "Tim's Troiihlcs ; or, Triid and True," "The \ i\ ian-^ of Woodi ford," iS;c. With Six tlnurav iiiLjs, Post .s\i>, cloth extia. Price :1s. cd. ' ■ To tins Tale was awarded the FiKsr l'i!i/.K (Cluo) olVered hy the United KiuLidom Hand of Hope Inion. SECOND 'RIZE TEMPERANCE TALE 1879. LIONEL FRANKLIN'S VICTORY. P.y K. ^- \x Sommki:. With Six l'Jiura\ inu's. Post S\o, cluth ixtra. Price ^s. (Jd. • This Tale secured the SkcoND Piii/.K ( i;.'ii'). FRANK OLDFIEI-D ; or, Lost and Found. P.y the l!ex . T. P. Wii,so\, M..\. With Five Kii,L;ra\ in.us. post Svo, cloth. Price :{s. (Id. TIM'S TROUBLES ; or, Tried and True. P.v M. A. Paim-. With l"i\ e Fiiuras iic.;s. Post S\o, cloth. Price lis. Gd. TRUE TO HIS COLOURS ; or. The Life that Wears Best. Ily the l!e\ T. P. Wu -ox, .M..\., \wav of Pavciihani, Author of " I'rank oldlieUl ; or, Lost and Found." Illustrated. Post S\o, cloth. I'rice lis. Gd. T. NKi.suN .»N"U SONS, LONDON', KUlNUria i 11, ANO NKW VOltlC. i BOOKS, BOOKS OF PEEOEPT AND EXAMPLE. "narrative of II' liuiiis nf tioll^'. I'ost . UcsrrilK il .tioiis. l'()>t [E DEAD lmI." rurty- RAVELS l-^ir^rav iii;;s. •F ALEX- Lii l''iill-(iu-i; iistratioiis of 'ith TwLiitN - •Js. (1 Aihcnturc '\\L'nt\ -uiulit iption of iis s. I'ost Svo, ' lU'V. .InllN ulit down to IS. Triuu -i-^. s. ri.T,, Aiitlior nf \\'onili- 'rico ;!s. CkI. IYtl(1 1i\' the IMKI!. With the lUv. T. ■lotli. I'rico . A. I'AlI.l.. 3ars Best. Antlmr nf t 8vo, clotli. VOKIC. LIVES MADE SUBLIME BY FAITH AND WORKS. l'>y the IU:v. l{ui!Ki! r SiKKii, D.D., Author of " Doiii;; Cood," iV I'ost S\(), clofl). Price ".^s. (Id. DOING GOOD ; or, The Cliristian in Walks of Usefulness. Ilhistratfd hy l^xaiiiples. iiy the l!ev. ItoliKliT STKKL, 1) D. I'ost -^\(>, clotii I'Xtra. (;ilt edi;ts. I'rii'e Us. (Id. WILLING HEARTS AND READY HANDS; or, The Labours and Triumphs of Earnest Women. My JosKim .loiiNsoN. I'ost ^\o, cloth extra. Trice lis. (id. THE THRESHOLD OF LIFE. A I!o<,k of Ilhistrations and Lessons for the l']neoiirai,''cnicnt and Counsel of Vontji. I!y W. 11. D.vvKM'our /n.\Ms. With Six Enurav iii-s. I'ost Svo, eioth. Price ;is. (Id. SEED-TIME AND HARVEST ; or, Sow Well and Reap Well. A liook for the Youii--. P.y the late Pav. W. l\. TwKKlUi:, l>.l). i'ost 8vo, cloth. Price lis. (Id. SUCCESS IN LIFE. A Hook for Youn- .Mori. Post 3vo, clotli extra. Price Its. THE BOY MAKES THE MAN. A Hook of Exaiui-li.' ai!d Kn- coura-ciuent for Hoys. With Coloured l"rontis]>ieee, ami nuuieroiis Eiiyraviuys. lioyal ISiuo, cloth. Price Is. (id. STORIES OF NOBLE LIVES. EACH WITH COLOURED FRONTISPIECE. Roijal IHino, cloth. Price Is. STORY OF AUDUBON, the Naturalist. STORY OF HOWARD, the Philanthropist. STORY OF PALISSY, the Potter. STORY OF JOHN SMEATON and the Eddystone Light- house. STORY OF DR. SCORESBY, the Arctic Navigator. STORY OF CYRUS FIELD, the Projector of the At- lantic Cable. STORY OF BENVENUTO CELLINI, the Italian Gold- smith. STORY OF SIR HUMPHREY DAVY and the Invention of the Safety Lamp. STORY OF GALILEO, the Astronomer of Pisa. STORY OF THE HERSCHELS. STORY OF THE STEPHENSONS, Father and Son. STORY OF SAMUEL BUDGETT, the Successful Mer- chant. T. NMI.SON AM) SONS, LONDON, KDINBURGII, AND NPIW YOI'.K. i J. 11 I ' r I. M TRAVEL AND RESEARCH IN BIBLE LANDS. -♦♦- THE LAND AND THE BOOK ; or, Biblical Illustrations Drawn trom the Manners and Customs, the Scenes and Scenery of the Holy Land. l'>.v tliu i;t\ . w. M. TnuMsdN, l».l). ('|-i>\Mi ^\ii, 71S pauc-. \\ itii Twc'Im" Colomvil lUii-tratioiis;, atiil One lliimiriil and 'r\Miit\- NNdoilciits. \'v\w 7s. Cnl., clotli. THE GL-VNT CITIES OP BASHAN, AND SYRIA'S HOLY PLACES, li.v I'l-nfcssur I',,imi.;i;, .Autln.r of •• .Mmiays lI'uiillKHik tn S\rii ami I'ali-tin.'." Willi i'iiuht llLautifiil Kii-niv- iii;^s. l'u>t sso, (lotli extr.i. i'li'-r 7^. lid. BOOKS OF VOYAGES, TRAVEL, AND ADVENTURE. RECENT POLAR VOYAGES. A H.rnnl i,i .Adventure aii.l J 'Incdv i-ry. I'roni the ."^.airli alti-r I'ranklin to tlit: N'oyauc (if the Alirl and tiio Disi'm-rrii (l,>7.j-7ii). With Sixty-two IJiurax in-.s. Ci'Dwti .S\<), cloth. I'l'ici.' .'is. GREAT SHIPWRECKS. -V Utcord of IVril.s ami Disasters at S«a - 1.MI-1&77. \\ith ."iS line I Jr^r i\ in^s. ( 'niwii 8vo, cloth. I'riec .'is. KANE'S ARCTIC EXPLORATIONS. The Seeoiid Orinncll Mxpedition in Search ul Sir .loliu I'ranklin. ^\■itll Sixty Wcotleuts. Crown S\o, i-loth extra, i'ric'.- "is. WRECKED ON A REEF ; or. Twenty Months in the A.nckland Isles. A Tnie story .■[ .shiiiwreek. .\cl\cntiire, ami Sutl'erin- With lo illustrations, i'ost s\o, cloth t ,\tra. I'rii'e :;<. t;d. ON THE NILE. A St S.\i!.\ iv. llisr. With Sixteen Iji^riu in ;s. I'ost h\o, cloth exti'a. i'rice lis. ROUND THE WORLD. A story of Travel compiled from the Narrative of Ida I'feilVcr. I'.y |». Mn;i;Av Smihi. With Thirty-six ljiura\ iM'.'s. I'ost 8\o, cloth. Trice I's. PICTURES OF TRAVEL IN FAR-OFF LANDS. A Companion to the Stud> of (lco'^raph\. - Ci;Niii.\ii Amkimca. With I'iltS IJl.;l'a\ ill'^s. I'ost ^\o, cloth. Price -s, PICTURES OP TRAVEL IN FAR-OFF LANDS. - Sot -ii Ami:1!Ica. With I'iUv iMi'^^rax in-s. I'ost s\(), clotli. Trice 2s. HOME AMID THE SNOW ; or. Warm Hearts in Cold Regions. T.y C:i]itain Cmaklks Km:, K.X. With T\venty-ci;.;ht r,n;;-ravin.;s. Ko\ al l^mo, clotli. Trice Is. Cd. THE FOREST, 'the JUNGLE, AND THE PRAIRIE; or, Tales of Adventure and Enterprise in Pursuit or Wild Animals. With Numerous l]nura\ inus. Tost Svo, cloth. Trice 'Js. Cd. SCENES WITH THE HUNTER AND THE TRAPPER IN MANY LANDS. Stories of Adventures with Wild Animals. AVith numerous Knurav inu's. Tost S\o, iul Kii-mv- URE. eiitnvc aii.l viX'ui' of tlio KiiLiniviii-s. astc'vs at Swa I'ricc .'is. )]]{\ CriiHicll y NVour3nit oi ft svo, eloth. WRAPPER ,1 Auiuialrf. (Id. [c of his Ad- lloNKS. With |if Travel atil |y the Author ions. Uoy.'d Kv YOUK.