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 THE MATE OF THE 
 VANCOUVER 
 
 .( 
 
 BY 
 
 MORLEY ROBERTS 
 
 AUTHOR OF "king BILLY OF BALLARAT," ETC, 
 
 S» Ht 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 STREET & SMITH, Publishers 
 238 WiLLiA 4 Street 
 
i 
 
 Copyright, 1892, 
 By CASSELL PUBLISHING CO. 
 
 Copyright, 190^, 
 By STREET & SMITH 
 
' 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 On Boabd the Vancouver . . , , i 
 
 PART II. 
 
 San Francisco and Northward . , 67 
 
 PART III. 
 A Golden Link jq^ 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 Love and Hate IM- 
 
 PART V. 
 
 At the Black Ca^on 209 
 

 I 
 
THE 
 
 MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 Part I. 
 
 ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 I AM going to write, not the history of my 
 life, which, on the whole, has been as quiet 
 as most men's, but simply the story of about 
 a year of it, which, I think, will be almost 
 as interesting to other folks as any yarn spun 
 by a professional novel writer; and if I am 
 wrong, it is because I haven't the knowledge 
 such have of the way to tell a stoiy. As a 
 friend of mine, who is an artist, says, I know 
 I can't put in the foreground properly, but if 
 I tell the simple facts in my own way, it will 
 be true, and anything that is really true 
 always seems to me to have a value of its 
 
2 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 own, quite independent of what the papers 
 call " style/' which a sailor, who has never 
 written much besides a log and a few love- 
 letters, cannot pretend to have. That is 
 what I think. 
 
 Our family—for somehow it seemB as if I 
 must begin at the beginning — was always 
 given to the sea. There is a stoiy that my 
 great-grandfather was a pirate or buccaneer ; 
 my grandfather, I know, was in the Royal 
 Navy, and my father commanded a China 
 clipper when they used to make, for those 
 days, such fast runs home with the new 
 season's tea. Of course, with these examples 
 before us, my brother and I took the same 
 line, and were apprenticed as soon as our 
 mother could make up her mind to part 
 vdth her sons. Will was six years older 
 than I, and he was second mate in the vessel 
 in which I served my apprenticeship; but, 
 though we were brothers, there wasn't much 
 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 8 
 
 
 likenesa either of body or mind between us ; 
 for "Will had a failing that never troubled 
 me^ and never will; he was always fond of 
 his glass, a thing I despise in a seaman, and 
 especially in an officer, who has so many lives 
 to answer for. 
 
 In 1881, when I had been out of my ap- 
 prenticeship for rather more than four years, 
 and had got to be mate by a deal of hard 
 work — for, to tell the truth, I liked practical 
 seamanship then much better than naviga- 
 tion and logarithms — I was with my brother 
 in the Vancouver , a bark of 1100 tons reg- 
 ister. If it hadn't been for my mother, I 
 wouldn't have sailed with Will, but she was 
 always afraid he would get into trouble 
 through drink; for when he was at home 
 and heaini he was appointed to the command 
 of this new vessel, he was carried to bed a 
 great deal the worse for liquor. So when he 
 offered me the chief officer's billet, mothei^ 
 persuaded me to take it, 
 
4 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 " You must, Tom," she said ; " for my sake, 
 do. You can look after him, and perhaps 
 shield him if anything happens, for I am in 
 fear all the time when he is away, but if you 
 were with him I should be more at ease ; for 
 you are so steady, Tom." 
 
 I wasn't so steady as she thought, I dare 
 say, but still I didn't drink, and that was 
 something. Anyhow, that's the reason why 
 I went with Will, and it was through him 
 and his drinking ways that all the trouble 
 begri that made my life a terror to me, and 
 yet brought all the sweetness into it that a 
 man can have, and more than many have a 
 right to look for. 
 
 When we left Liverpool we were bound 
 for Melbourne with a mixed cargo and emi- 
 grants ; and I shouldn't like to say which was 
 the most mixed, what we had in the hold or 
 in the steerage, for I don't like such a human 
 cargo ; no sailor does, for they are a « ways in 
 the way. However, that's neithei* L-jre nor 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. O 
 
 tliere, for though Will got too much to drink 
 every two days or so on the passage out, 
 nothing happened then that has any concern 
 with the storj . It was only when we got to 
 Sandridge that the yarn begins, and it began 
 in a way that rather took me aback ; for 
 though I had always thought Will a man who 
 didn't care much for women, or, at any rate, 
 enough to marry one, our anchor hadn't been 
 down an hour before a lady came off in a 
 boat. It was Will's wife, as he explained to 
 me in a rather shamefaced way when he in- 
 troduced her, and a fine-looking woman she 
 was — of a beautiful complexion with more 
 red in it than most Australians have, two 
 piercing black eyes, and a figure that would 
 have surprised you, it was so straight and 
 full. 
 
 She shook hands with me very firmly, and 
 looked at me in such a way that it seemed 
 sh 8 saw right through me. 
 
 "I am very pleased to see you, Mr, Tice- 
 
THE MATS OF THE VANOOUVEft. 
 
 hurst," she Slid ; "I know we shall be friends, 
 you are so like your brother." 
 
 Now, somehow, that didn't please me, for 
 I could throw Will over the spanker boom if 
 I wanted to ; I was much the bigger man of 
 the two ; and as for strength, there was no 
 cotnparison between us. Besides — however, 
 that doesn't matter; and I answered her 
 heartily enough, for I confess I liked her 
 looks, though I prefer fair women. 
 
 " I am sure we shall," said I ; " my brother's 
 wife must be, if I can ^x it so." 
 
 And with that I went off and left them 
 alone, for I thought I might not be wanted 
 there ; and I knew very well I was wanted 
 elsewhere, for Tom Mackenzie, the second 
 officer, was making signs for me to come on 
 deck. 
 
 After that I saw her a good deal, for we 
 were often together, especially when she came 
 down once or twice and found Will the worse 
 for liquor. The first time she was in a reg- 
 
 ■ i t III ; 1 11 * I 
 
 -"g ' ^ggJftlB 
 
 !BS!'*tf* .."."*. ' ..i.y!!l!, '! . 8! !J '' -. ' " ' 
 
). 
 
 ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 7 
 
 ular fury about it, and though she didn't say 
 much, she looked like a woman who could 
 do anything desperate, or even worse than 
 that. But the next time she took it more 
 coolly. 
 
 "Well, Tom," she said, "he was to take 
 me to the theater, but now he can't go. What 
 am I to do ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said I, foolishly enough, 
 as it seemed, but then I didn't want to take 
 the hint, which I understood well enough. 
 
 " Hum ! " she said sharply, looking at me 
 straight. I believe I blushed a little at being 
 bowled out, for I was I knew that. How- 
 ever, when she had made up her mind, she 
 was not a woman to be baulked. 
 
 " Then I know, Tom, if you don't," she 
 said ; " you must take me yourself. I have 
 the tickets. So get ready." 
 
 " But, Helen ! '' I said, for I really didn't 
 like to go off with her in that way without 
 Will's knowing. 
 
8 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 Her eyes sparkled, and she stamped her 
 foot. 
 
 " I insist on it ! So get ready, or I'll go 
 by myself. And how would Will like 
 that?" 
 
 There was no good resisting her, she was 
 too sharp for me, and I went like a lamb, 
 doing just as she ordered me, for she was a 
 masterful woman and accustomed to have her 
 own way. If I did wrong I was punished for 
 it afterward, for this was the beginning of a 
 kind of flirtation which I swear was always 
 innocent enough on my side, and would have 
 been on hers too, if Will had not been a 
 coward with the drink. 
 
 In Melbourne we got orders for San Fran- 
 cisco, and it was only a few days before we 
 were ready to sail that I found out Helen was 
 going with us. I was surprised enough any 
 way, for I knew the owners objected to their 
 captains having their wives on board, but I 
 was more surprised that she was ready to 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 9 
 
 come. I hope you will believe that, for it is 
 as true as daylight. I thought at first it was 
 all Will's doing, and he let me think so, for 
 he didn't like me to know how much she 
 ruled him when he was sober. However, she 
 came on board to stay just twenty-four hours 
 before we sailed ; the very day Will went up 
 to Melboi^me to ship two men in place of 
 two of ours who had run from the vessel. 
 
 Next morning, when we were lying in the 
 bay, for we had hauled out from the wharf 
 at Sandridge, a boat ran alongside just at six 
 o'clock, and the two men came on board. 
 
 '" Who are you, and where are you from ? " 
 I asked roughly, for I didn't like the look of 
 one of them. 
 
 "These are the two hands that Captain 
 Ticehurst shipped yesterday from a Wil- 
 liamstown boarding house," said the runner 
 who was with them. 
 
 I always like to ship men from the Sailor's 
 Home, but I couldn't help myself if Will 
 
10 
 
 THB MATE 07 THE YANOOUVIR. 
 
 cHose to take what he could get out of a 
 den of thieves such as I knew his place to 
 he. 
 
 " Very well ! " naid I gruffly enough. 
 " Look alive, get your dunnage forward and 
 turn to I " 
 
 One of them was a hard-looking little 
 Cockney, who seemed a sailor every inch, 
 though uhere weren't many of them ; but the 
 other was a dai'k lithe man, with an evil 
 face, who looked like some Oriental halt- 
 caste. 
 
 "Here," said I to the Cockney, "what's 
 your name?" 
 
 "BiU Walker, sir," he answered. 
 
 "Who's the man with you? What is 
 he ? " I asked. 
 
 " Dunno, sir," said Walker, looking forward 
 at the figure of his shipmate, who was just 
 disappearing in the fo'c'sle ; " I reckon he's 
 some kind of a Dago, that's what he is, some 
 kind of a Dago." 
 
 ft 
 
ON BOARD THB VANCOUVER. 
 
 11 
 
 Now, a Dago in sailor's language means, 
 as a rule, a Fi'encliman, Spaniard, or Greek, 
 or anyone from southern Europe, just as a 
 Dutchman means anyone from a Fin down 
 to a real Hollander ; so I wasn't much wiser. 
 However, in a day or two Bill Walker came 
 up to me and told me, in a confidential 
 London twang, that he now believed Matthias, 
 as he called himself, was a half-caste Malay, 
 as I had thought at first. But I was to know 
 him better afterward, as will be seen before 
 I finish. 
 
 Now, it is a strange ,thing, and it shows 
 how hard it is for a man not accustomed 
 to* writing, like myself, to tell a story in the 
 proper way, that I have not said anything 
 of the passengers who were going with us to 
 San Francisco. I could understand it if I 
 had been writing this down just at the time 
 these things happened, but when I think 
 that I have put the Malay before Elsie 
 Fleming, even if he came into my life firstj 
 
12 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 I am almost ready to laugh at my own 
 stupidity. For Elsie was the brightest, bon- 
 niest girl I ever saw, and even now I find it 
 hard not to let the cat out of the bag before 
 the hour. As a matter of fact, this being the 
 third time I have written all this over, I had 
 to cut out pages flbout Elsie which did not 
 come in their proper place. So now I shall 
 say no more than that Elsie and her sister 
 Fanny, and their father, took passage with us 
 to California, as we were the only sailing 
 vessel going that way; and old Fleming, 
 who had been a sailor himself, fairly hated 
 steamboats — aye, a good deal worse than I 
 do, for I think them a curse to sailors. But 
 when they came on board I was busy as a 
 mate is when ready to go to sea, and though 
 I believe I must have been blind, yet I hardly 
 took any notice of the two sisters, more than 
 to remark that one had hair like gold and a 
 laugh which was as sweet as a fair wind up 
 Channel But I came to know her better 
 
ON BOARD THE VANOOiTT ER. 
 
 18 
 
 
 since; though in a way diiferent from the 
 Malay. 
 
 When we had got our anchor on board, 
 and were fairly out to sea, heading for 
 Bass's Straits, I saw her and Helen talking 
 together, and I think it was the contrast 
 between the two that first attracted me 
 toward her, not much liking dark women, 
 being dark myself. She seemed, compared 
 with Will's wife, as fair as an angel from 
 heaven, though the glint of her eyes, and her 
 quick, bright ways, showed she was a woman 
 all over. I took a fancy to her that moment, 
 and I believe Helen saw it, when I think 
 over what has happened since, for she 
 frowned and bit her lip hard, until I could 
 see a mark there. But I didn't know then 
 what I do now, and besides, I had no 
 time to think about such things just then, 
 for we were hard at it getting things ship- 
 shape. 
 
 Tom Mackenzie, the second officer, and 
 
14 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 a much older man than myself — for he had 
 been to sea for seventeen years before he 
 took it into his head to try for his second 
 mate's ticket — came up to me when the men 
 were mustered aft. 
 
 " Mr. Ticehurst," said he gruffly, " I should 
 be glad if youVi take that Malay chap in 
 your watch, for I have two d — d Dagos 
 already, who are always quarreling, and if 
 I have three, there will be bloodshed for 
 sure. I don't like his looks." 
 
 " No more do I," 1 answered ; " but I don't 
 care for his looks. I've tamed worse looking 
 men ; and if you ask it, Mackenzie, why I'll 
 have him and you can take the Cockney." 
 
 I think this was very good of me, for Bill 
 Walker, I could see, was a real smart hand, 
 and a merry fellow, not one of those grum- 
 blers who always make trouble for'ard, and 
 come aft at the head of a deputation once 
 a week growling about the vituals. But 
 Mackenzie was a good sort, and though he 
 
ON BOABD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 15 
 
 was under me, I knew that for practical 
 seamanship — though I won't take a back 
 seat among any men of my years at sea — 
 he was ahead of all of us. So I was ready 
 to do him a good turn, and it was true 
 enough he had two Greeks in his watch 
 already. 
 
 When we had been to sea about a week, 
 and got into the regular routine of work, 
 which comes round just as it does in a house, 
 for it is never done, Will got into his routine, 
 too, and was drunk every day just as regular 
 as eight bells at noon. Helen came to me, 
 of course. 
 
 ♦ " Tom, can't you do something ? " she said, 
 with tears in her eyes, the first time I ever 
 saw them there, though not the last. " It is 
 horrible to think of his drinking this way ! 
 And then before those two girls — I am 
 ashamed of myself and of him ! Can't you 
 do anything ? " 
 
 « What can I do, Helen ? " I asked. " I 
 
16 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 can^t take it from him; I can't stave the 
 liquor, there's too much of it ; besides, he is 
 captain, if he is my brother, and I can't go 
 against him." 
 
 "But can't you try and persuade him, 
 Tom ? " and she caught my arm and looked 
 at me so sorrowfully. 
 
 "Haven't I done it, Helen!" I answered. 
 "Do you think 1 have seen him going to 
 hell these two years without speaking ? But 
 what good is it — what good is it ? " 
 
 She turned away and sat down by Elsie 
 and Fanny, while just underneath in the 
 saloon Will was singing some old song 
 about "Pass the bottle round." He did, 
 too, and it comes round quick at a party of 
 one. 
 
 I can see easily that if I tell everything in 
 this way I shall never finish my task until I 
 have a pile of manuscript as big as the log of 
 a three years' voyage, so I shall have to get 
 on quickly, and just say what is necessary. 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVEB. 
 
 17 
 
 and no more. And now I must say that by 
 this time I was in love with Elsie Fleming, 
 in love as much as a man can be, in love with 
 a pabsion that trial only strengthened, and 
 time could not and cannot destroy. It was 
 no wonder I loved her, for she was the fair- 
 est, sweetest maid I ever saw, with long golden 
 hair, bright blue eyes that looked straight at 
 one, but which could be very soft too some- 
 times, and a neat little figure that made me 
 feel, great strong brute that I was, as clumsy 
 as an ox, though ' was as quick yet to go 
 aloft as any young man if occasion called for 
 the mate to show his men the way. And 
 .when we were a little more than half across 
 the Pacific to the Golden Gate, I began to 
 think that Elsie liked me more than she did 
 anyone else, for she would often talk to me 
 about her past life in sunny New South 
 Wales, and shiver to think that her father 
 might insist on staying a long time in British 
 Columbia^ for he was going to take possession 
 
18 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 of a farm left him by an old uncle near a place 
 called Thomson Forks. 
 
 It was sweet to have her near me in the 
 ^rst watch, and I cursed quietly to myself 
 wl.an young Jack Harmer, the apprentice, 
 struck four bells, for at ten o'clock she always 
 said, " Good-night, Mr. Ticehurst. I must go 
 now. How sleepy one does get at sea I Dear 
 me, how can you keep your eyes open ? " And 
 when she went down it seemed as if the moon 
 and stars went out. 
 
 When it was old Mackenzie's first watch I 
 was almost fool enough to be jealous of her 
 being with him then, though he had a wife at 
 home, and a daughter just as old as Elsie, and 
 he thought no more of women, as a rule, than 
 a hog does of harmony, as I once heard an 
 American say. Still, when I lay awake and 
 heard her step overhead, for I knew it well, I 
 was almost ready to get up then and there 
 and make an unutterable fool of myself by 
 losing my natural sleep. 
 

 On board the VANCOUVER. 
 
 19 
 
 And now I am coming to what I would 
 willingly leave out. I hope that people won't 
 think badly of rae for my share in it, for 
 though I was not always such a straight 
 walker in life as some are, yet I would not do 
 what evil-minded folks might think I did. 
 Somehow ^ have a difficulty in putting it 
 down, for though I have spoken of it some- 
 times sorrowfully enough to one who is very 
 dear to me, yet to write it coolly on paper 
 seems cowardly and treacherous. And yet, 
 seeing that I can harm no one, and knowing 
 as I do in my heart that I wasn't to blame, I 
 must do it, and do it as kindly as I can. 
 This is what I mean : I began to see that 
 Helen loved me more than she should have 
 done, and that she hated Will bitterly, but 
 Elsie even worse. 
 
 It was a great surprise to me, for, to tell 
 the truth, women as a general rule have 
 nevez* taken to me very much, and Will was 
 idways the one in our family who had most 
 
20 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANOOtJVER. 
 
 to do with them. And for my part, until I 
 saw Elsie I never really loved anyone, al- 
 though, like most men, I have had a few 
 troubles which until then I thought love- 
 affairs. So it was very hard to convince my- 
 self that what I suspected was true, even 
 though I believe that I have a natural fitness 
 for judging people and seeing through them, 
 even women, who some folks say do not act 
 from reason like men. However, I don't think 
 they are much different, for few of us act rea- 
 sonably. But all this has nothing to do with 
 the matter in hand. Now, I must confess, al- 
 though it seems wicked, that I was a little 
 pleased at first to think that two women loved 
 me, for we are all vain, and that certainly 
 touches a man's vanity, and yet I was sorry 
 too, for I foresaw trouble unless I was very 
 careful, though not all the woe and pain which 
 came out of this business before the end. 
 
 The first thing that made me suspect nome- 
 thing was wi'ong, waa that Helen almost 
 
 '*^ 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 21 
 
 ceased to keep Will from the bottle, and she 
 taunted him bitterly, so bitterly, that if he 
 had not usually been a good-tempered fellow 
 even when dmnk, he might have turned 
 nasty and struck her. And then she would 
 never leave me and Elsie cilone if she could 
 help it, although she was not hypocrite 
 enough to pretend to be very fond of her. 
 Indeed, Elsie said one night to me that she 
 was afraid Mrs. Ticehurst didn't like her. I 
 laughed, but I saw it was true. Then, when- 
 ever she could, Helen came and walked with 
 me, and she hardly ever spoke. It seems to 
 me now, when I know all, that she was in a 
 perpetual conflict, and was hardly in her right 
 mind. I should like to think that she was 
 not. 
 
 I was in a very difficult position, as any 
 man will admit. I loved Elsie dearly ; I was 
 convinced my brother's wife loved me ; and 
 we were all four shut up on ship-board. I 
 think if wti had been on land I should have 
 

 22 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 spoken to Elsie and run away from the 
 others, but here I could not speak without 
 telling her more than I desired, or without 
 our being in the position of lovers, which 
 miint have caused trouble. For I even 
 thought, so suspicious does a man get, 
 that Helen might perhaps have come on 
 board more on my account than on 
 Will's. 
 
 All this time we were making very fair 
 headway, for we had a good breeze astern of 
 us, and the " Islands " (as they call them in 
 San Francisco), that is the Sandwich Islands, 
 were a long way behind us. If we had con- 
 tinued to have fine weather, or if Will had 
 kept sober, or even so drunk that he could 
 not have interfered in working the ship, 
 things might not have taken the turn they 
 did, and what happened between me and the 
 Malay who called himself Matthias might 
 never have occurred. And when I look back 
 on the train of circumstances, it almost makes 
 
 t 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 33 
 
 me believe in Fate, though I should be un- 
 willing to do that ; for I was taught by my 
 mother, a very intelligent woman who read a 
 great deal of theology, that men have free 
 will and can do as they please. 
 
 However, when we were nearing the 
 western coast of America^ Will, who had a 
 great notion — a much greater one than I had, 
 by the way — of his navigation, began to come 
 up every day and take his observations with 
 me, until at last the weather altered so for the 
 worse, and it came on to blow so hard, that 
 neither of us could take any more. Now, if 
 Will drank enough, Heaven knows, in fine 
 weather, he drank a deal harder in foul, 
 though by getting excited it didn't have the 
 usual effect on him, and he kept about with- 
 out going to sleep just where he sat or lay 
 down. So he was always on deck, much to 
 my annoyance, for I could see the men laugh- 
 ing as he clung to the rail at the break of the 
 poop, bowing and scraping, like an intoxi- 
 
24 
 
 THE MATE OF T^E VANCOUVER. 
 
 cated dancing master, witb every roll the 
 Vancov/ver made. 
 
 For ^ve days we had been running by dead 
 reckoning, and as well as I could make out we 
 were heading straight for the coast, a good 
 bit to the nor'ard of our true course. Besides, 
 we were a good fifty miles farther east than 
 Will made out, according to h^ s figures, and I 
 said as much to him. He laughed scornfully. 
 " I'm captain of this ship," said he ; " and Tom 
 —don't you interfere. If IVe a mind to knock 
 Mendocino County into the middle of next 
 week, I'll do it ! But I haven't, and we are 
 running just right." 
 
 You see, when he was in this state he was 
 a very hard man to work with, and if we dif- 
 fered in our figures I had often enough a big 
 job to convince him that he was wrong. And 
 being wrong even a second in the longitude 
 means being sixty miles out. And with only 
 dead reckoning to rely on, we should have 
 been feeling our way cautiously toward the 
 
 IL 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 25 
 
 coast, seeiDg that in any case we might fetch 
 up on the Farallon Islands, which lie twenty 
 miles west of the Golden Gate. 
 
 On the sixth day of this weather it began 
 to clear up a little in the morning watch, and 
 there seemed some possibility of our getting 
 sight of the sun before eight bells. Will was 
 on deck, and rather more sober than usual. 
 
 " Well, sir," said I to him, for I was just as 
 respectful, I'll swear, as if he was no relation, 
 " there seems a chance of getting an observa- 
 tion ; shall we tak3 it ? " 
 
 " Very well," said he. " Send Harmer 
 here, and we'll wait for a chance." 
 
 Harmer came aft, and brought up Will's 
 sextant, and just then the port foretopsail 
 sheet parted, for it was leally blowing hard, 
 though the sun came out at intervals. I ran 
 forward myself, and by the time the watch 
 had clewed up the sail and made it fast, eight 
 bells had struck. When I went aft I met 
 Harmer. 
 
26 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANOOUVEE. 
 
 I ■! 
 
 " Did you get an observation ! " I asked 
 anxiously, for when a man has the woman he 
 loves on board it makes him feel worried, 
 especially if things go as they were going 
 then. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Ticehurst," said he, "and the 
 captain is working it out now. Bui, sir, if I 
 were you I would go over it after him, for 
 two heads are better than one," and he 
 laughed, being a merry, thoughtless young- 
 ster, and went into his berth. 
 
 However, I did not do what he said, think- 
 ing that we should both get an observation 
 at noon. We were very lucky to do so, for 
 it began to thicken again at ten o'clock, and 
 we were in a heavy fog until nearly twelve. 
 And as soon as eight bells was struck, the 
 fog which had lifted came down again. 
 
 When I got below Will already had the 
 chart out, and was showing the women where 
 we were, as he said ; and when I came in he 
 called me. 
 
 T -i — (! ■ 
 
iKi 
 
 ON BOABD THB VANOOUYSB. 
 
 ST 
 
 "There, look, Mr. Chief Officer! what did 
 I tell you ? Look ! " and he pricked off our 
 position as being just about where he had 
 reckoned, 
 
 I took up the slate he had been making 
 the calculation on, but he saw me, and snatched 
 it out of my hand. 
 
 " What d'ye mean ? " said he fiercely ; " what 
 do you want ? '* and he threw it on the deck, 
 smashing it in four pieces. I made a sign to 
 Elsie, and she picked them up like lightning, 
 while Will called for the steward and some 
 more brandy, and began drinking in a worse 
 temper than I had ever seen him in. 
 
 When I passed Elsie she gave me the 
 broken bits of slate, and I went into my cabin, 
 pieced them together, and worked the whole 
 thing out again. And when I had done it 
 the blood ran to my head and I almost felL 
 For the morning observation which Will only 
 had taken was wrongly worked out I ran 
 out on deck like lightning, and found it « 
 
rty'T-.Tt^Sgll^ 
 
 r'ji. I' i".iT,aimnuLm.i_i.ijiLjL!L.'..'Jii 
 
 B5HB5WHHraH!!!S!^!" 
 
 28 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 thick fog all round us, for all the wind. Old 
 Mackenzie was in the poop, and he roared out 
 when he saw me : 
 
 " What's the matter, Tom Ticehurst ? " 
 " Put the ship up into the wind, for God's 
 sake ! " I shouted. " And send a hand up 
 aloft to look out, for the coast should be 
 right under our bows. We must be in Bal- 
 linas Bay." And as he ported the helm, 
 I rushed back into the cabin and took the 
 chart out again to verify our position as near 
 as I could. The coast ought to be in sight if 
 the fog cleared. For we had run through or 
 past the Farallones without seeing them. 
 
 When I came down the women all cried 
 out at the sight of me, for though I controlled 
 myself all I could, it was impossible, so sud- 
 den was the shock, to hide all I felt. And 
 just then the Vancowver was coming into the 
 wind, the men were at the lee braces, and as 
 she dived suddenly into the head seas, her 
 pitches were tremendous. It seemed to "ihe 
 
 ■lk>>:<. 
 
 
ON BOABD THE VANOOUVBB. 
 
 women that something must be wrong, 
 while Will, who, seaman-like, knew what had 
 happened, though mad with drink, rushed on 
 deck with a fierce oath. I dropped the chart 
 and ran after him; yet I stayed a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 " It will be all right," I said to the women ; 
 " but I can't tell you now." And I followed 
 Will, who^had got hold of old Mackenzie by 
 the throat, while the poor fellow looked 
 thunderstruck. 
 
 "What the devil are you doing?" he 
 screamed. " Why don't you keep the course ? 
 Man the weather-braces, you dogs, and put 
 the helm up ! " 
 
 But no one stirred ; while Tom Mackenzie, 
 seeing me there, took Will by the wrists and 
 thi^w him away frx.m Wm. I caught him as 
 he fell, roaring, "Mutiny I Mutiny I " 
 
 " It's no mutiny ! " I shouted, in my turn ; 
 " if we keep your course we shall be on the 
 rocks in half an hour. I tell you the land is 
 
80 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 dead to loo-ard, aye, and not five miles 
 off." 
 
 But it was less than that, for just then it 
 cleared up a little. And the lookout on the 
 foreyard shouted, " Land on the lee-bow ! " 
 Then he cried out, " Land right ahead ! " 
 Whether Will heard him or not, I don't 
 know, but he broke away from me and fell, 
 rather than went, down the companion, and 
 in a moment I heard the women scream. 
 
 I caught Mackenzie by the aim. 
 
 " It's for our lives, and the lives of the 
 women? He's gone for his revolver! I 
 shall take command ! " 
 
 And I sprang behind the companion like 
 lightning. And just in time, for, as Will 
 came up, I saw he was armed, and I jumped 
 right on his back. His revolver went off and 
 struck the taffrail; the next moment I had 
 kicked it forward to where Mackenzie was 
 standing, and grasped Will by the arms. 
 
 I had never -given him credit for the 
 
 f<«Mal& 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 81 
 
 strength he showed, but then he was mad, 
 mad drunk, and it waa not till Walker and 
 Matthias — for all hands were on deck by this 
 time— came to help me that I secured him. 
 In the struggle Will drew back his foot and 
 kicked the Mala} in the face, and as he rose, 
 with the evilest look I ever saw on a man's 
 countenance, he drew his knife instinctively. 
 With my left hand I caught his wrist and 
 nearly broke it, while the knife flew out of 
 his hand. And then, even by that simple 
 action, I saw that I had made an enemy of 
 this man, whom up to this time I had always 
 been kind to and treated with far more con- 
 sideration than he would have got from 
 rough old Mac. But this is only by the 
 way, though it is important enough to the 
 story. 
 
 I had to tie Will's hands, and all the time 
 he foamed at the mouth, ordering the crew to 
 assist him. 
 
 " I'll have you hung, you dogs, all of you I " 
 
32 
 
 THB MATB OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 he shrieked, while the three women stood on 
 the companion-ladder, white and trembling 
 with fear. 
 
 It was with great trouble that we got him 
 below, and when he was there I shut him in 
 his berth, and sent the two stewards in with 
 him to see that he neither did himself harm 
 nor got free, and then I turned my attention 
 to saving the ship and our lives. 
 
 We were in an awfully critical situation, 
 and one which, in ordinary circumstances, 
 might have made a man^s heart quail; but 
 now — whh the woman I loved on board — it 
 was maddening to think of, and made me 
 curse my brother who had brought us into it. 
 Think of what it was. Not five miles on our 
 lee-bow there was the land, and we could even 
 distinguish as we lifted on the sea the cruel 
 line of white breakers which seemed to run 
 nearly abeam, for the Vcmcov/ver was not a 
 very weatherly ship, and the gale, instead 
 of breaking, increased, until, if I had 
 
 I 
 
 fe.' 
 
ON BOABD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 38 
 
 )doii 
 bling 
 
 b him 
 lim in 
 L with 
 harm 
 ier.tion 
 
 aation, 
 itances, 
 il ; but 
 ard — it 
 ide me 
 into it. 
 J on our 
 lid even 
 le cruel 
 d to run 
 as not a 
 , instead 
 I had 
 
 dared, I would have ordered sail to be 
 shortened. 
 
 I went to the chart again. Just as I took 
 it, Mackenzie called to me, " Mr. Ticehurst, 
 there's a big flat-topped mountain some way 
 inland. I think it must be Table Mountain." 
 Yes, he knew the coast, and even as I looked 
 at the chart, I heard him order the helm to 
 be put up. I saw why, for when we had 
 hauled into the wind, we were heading dead 
 for the great four-fathom bank that lies off 
 Bonita Point. But there was a channel be- 
 tween it and the land. 
 
 I ran on deck and spoke to Mackenzie. He 
 pointed out on the starboard hand, and there 
 the water was breaking on the bank. We 
 were running for the narrow channel under a 
 considerable press of canvas, seeing how it 
 blew ; for all Mac relieved her of when we 
 first put her into the wind was the main top 
 gallant sail. And now I could do nothing 
 for a moment but try to get sight of our land- 
 
34 THE MATE OF THE VAHOOTTVBB. 
 
 ^arH and keep sigM of then, for tl.e 
 weather was stiU t..^ ^ ^^^^^ ^^^ 
 
 Fortunately, as it mignT. u 
 Jtl^echain-cables had already been ranged 
 
 ;iandaftont.ed.MndItoiaMac.^n. 
 
 to see them bent on to the -ho,., ^d the 
 
 ^ Va+ T knewtnat ii we 
 stoppei. made ready, ^etj^ne^ .^ 
 
 ,ad to anchor, we werelost^--^^ 
 could only postpone our fate for they 
 come home or part to a dead certamty. 
 Mackenzie and I stood together on th« 
 macKcu/- wiliprkbt moment 
 
 poop watching anxiously for tV.ngti 
 
 to haul our wind again. 
 
 xi • V ..f it Mr Mackenzie ? 
 « What do you tbink ot It, ivii. m 
 
 lJasIclLgoutoaweatherba.^a^ 
 
 « Wha-e do you think we shall be m half an 
 
 'Ti'ln-tthinklshaneverseeWhitechapel 
 «^in sir," he answered quietly, and I knew 
 
 again, sn, ^ , ^ ^f >,;a wife and his 
 
 he was thinking of home, of his wi 
 
 V,. « She will go to leeward like a 
 daughter. ^^^ ^"^ ^ , i „f +i,p 
 
 1 • 4^v.;« apa • and now look at the 
 butter-cask in this sea , anu 
 
ON BOARD THS VANCOUVER. 
 
 85 
 
 tlie 
 
 [ for 
 Bged 
 enzie 
 i tlie 
 if we 
 D^ale it 
 would 
 
 > 
 
 OB tliS 
 
 noment 
 
 enzie s 
 ackstay. 
 half an 
 
 Ltecbapel 
 { Iknew 
 e and his 
 rd like a 
 ,ok at the 
 
 land ! " And he pointed toward the line of 
 breakers on the land, which came nearer and 
 nearer. We waited yet a few minutes, and 
 then I looked at Mackenzie inquiringly. 
 " Yes, I think so, sir," he said, and v/ith my 
 hand I motioned the men at the wheel to put 
 the helm down again. As she came into the 
 wind the upper foretopsail blew out of the 
 boltropes, while the vessel struggled like a 
 beaten hound that is being dragged to exe- 
 cution, and shivered from stem to stem. 
 For the waves were running what landsmen 
 call mountains high ; she now shipped a sea 
 every moment, which came in a flood over 
 the f o'c'sle head ; and pouring down through 
 the scuttle, the cover of which had been 
 washed overboard, it sent the men's chests 
 adrift in the fo'c'sle and washed the blankets 
 out of the lower bunks. And to windward 
 the roar of the breakers on the bank was 
 deafening. I went below just for a moment. 
 I knew I had no right to go there, my place 
 
36 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANOOUVBB. 
 
 was on deck, but could not help myself. I 
 must see Elsie once more before we died, for 
 if tbe vessel struck, the first sea that washed 
 over her might iake me with it, and we 
 should never see each other again on earth. 
 But the two sisters were not in the ^lov. ); , I 
 stepped toward their berth, and Helen met 
 me, rising up from the deck, where she had 
 been crouching down in teiTor. 
 
 I have said she was beautiful ; and so she 
 was when she smiled, and the pleasant light 
 fell ab^ut her like sunlight on some strange 
 and rare tropical flower, sho\viiig her res/ 
 complexion, her delicate skin of f ull-bloodeu 
 olive, and her coils of dark and shining hair 
 But I never saw her so beautiful as she was 
 then, clothed strangely with the fear of death, 
 white with passion that might have ma^^ a 
 weaker woman crimson witL ^name, ani 
 fiercely triumphant with a bitter self-con- 
 quest. She caught me by tLf ; j*m. " Tom, 
 dear Tom," she said, in a wonderful voice 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 3t 
 
 "J 
 
 a 
 
 tliat came to me clearly through the howl of 
 the wind, " I know there is not hope for us. 
 He " (and she pointed toward her husband's 
 cabm) " has ruined us ! I hate him ! And, 
 Tom, now it is all over, and we shall not 
 live ! Say good-by to me, say good-by ! " 
 
 I stood thunderstruck and motionless, for 
 I knew what she meant even before she put 
 up her hands and tor k me round the neck. 
 " Kiss me once, just once, and I will die — for 
 now I could not live, and would not ! Kiss 
 me ! " And I did kiss her. Why, I know not, 
 whether out of pity (it was not love — no, 
 not love of any kind, I swear) or from the 
 strong constraint of her force of mind, I can- 
 not say ; and as I lifted my heaid from hers, I 
 saw Elsie, the woman I did love, looking at 
 me with shame at my fall, as she thought, 
 and with scorn. I freed myself from Helen, 
 who sank down on her knees without seeing 
 that she had been observed, and I went to- 
 ward Elsie, She, too, was pale, though not 
 
m 
 
 TT»E ma'Te of the VANOOUVEIL 
 
 with fear, for perhaps she was ignorant of her 
 danger, but as I thought with a little feeling 
 of triiunph even then, for we are strange 
 ^ -"'ags, with jealousy and anger. 
 
 You are a coward and a traitor!" she 
 said, when I reached her. 
 
 "No, no, I am not, Elsie," I answered 
 sharply ; " but perhaps you will never know 
 that I am speaking the truth. But let that 
 
 be ; are you a brave woman ? For But 
 
 where is your father ? " 
 
 " With Fanny," she answered, disdainfully 
 even then. 
 
 I called him, and he came out. 
 
 " Mr. Fleming," I said ; " you know our 
 position; in a few minutes we shall be safe 
 or — ashore. Get your daughters dressed 
 warmly ; stay at the foot of the companion 
 with them, and, if it is necessary, come up 
 when I call you." 
 
 The old man shook hands with me and 
 pointed to Will's wife. I had forgotten her I 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 39 
 
 *'Look after her, too," I said, and went to 
 Will's cabin. He was fast asleep and snor- 
 ing hard. I could hardly keep from striking 
 him, but I let him lie. Was it a wonder that 
 a woman ceased to love him ? And I went 
 on deck. 
 
 I had not been absent ^ve minutes, but in 
 that time the wind had increased even more, 
 the seas seemed to have grown heavier, the 
 decks were full of water, and the fatal wake 
 was yet broader on the weather-quarter. All 
 the men were aft under the break of the 
 poop, and most of them, thinking that we 
 must go ashore, had taken off their oilskins 
 and sea-boots ready for an effort to save 
 themselves at the last. Even in the state of 
 mind that I was in then, I saw clearly, and 
 the strange picture they presented — wet 
 through, some with no hats on, up to their 
 knees in water, for the decks could not clear 
 themselves, though some f f the main deck 
 ports were stove in and some out in the 
 
40 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 bulwarks — remains vividly with me now. 
 Among them stood Matthias, with a red 
 handkerchief over his head, and a swelled 
 cheek, where Will had struck him. By his 
 side was Walker, the only man in the crowd 
 who seemed cheerful, and he actually smiled. 
 Perhaps he was what the Scotch called 
 " fey." 
 
 Suddenly Mackenzie called me loudly. 
 
 " Look sir, look ! There is the point, the 
 last of the land! It's Bonita Point, if I 
 know this coast at all ! ^' 
 
 I sprang into the weather mizzen rigging, 
 and the men, who had noticed the second 
 mate's gestures, did the same at the main. 
 I could see the Point, and knew it, and I 
 knew if we could only weather it we could 
 put the helm up and run into San Francisco 
 in safety. Just then Harmer, who was as 
 cool as a cucumber, struck four bells, and 
 Matthias and a man called Thompson, an old 
 one-eyed sailor, came up to relieve the wheel. 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 41 
 
 The point which we had to weather was 
 about as fai* from us as the land dead to 
 leeward, and it was touch and go whether we 
 should clear it or not. The Vancouver made 
 such leeway, closehauled, that it seemed 
 doubtful, and I fancied we should have a 
 better chance if I freed her a little, to let hor 
 go through the water faster. Yet it was a 
 ticklish point, and one not to be decided 
 without thought in a situation which de- 
 manded instant action. 
 
 " What think you, Mac," said I hurriedly ; 
 " shall we ease her half a point ? " 
 
 He nodded, and I spoke to the men at the 
 wheel, and as I did so I noticed the Malay's 
 face, which was ghastly with fear, although 
 he seemed steady enough. But I thought it 
 best to alter the way they stood, for the 
 Englishman had the lee wheel. I ordered 
 them to change places. 
 
 "What's that for, sir?" said Matthias, 
 almost disrespectfully. I stared at him. 
 
42 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VAFOOUVBR. 
 
 "Do as you are told, you dog!" I 
 answered roughly, for I had no time to be 
 polite. " I don't like your steering. I have 
 noticed it before." 
 
 When the course was altered she got much 
 more way on her, but neared the land yet 
 more rapidly,. I~ called the men on to the 
 poop, for I had long before this determined 
 not to chance the anchors, and looked down 
 into the saloon to see if the women were 
 there. 
 
 As I did so Mr. Fleming called me. 
 
 " If I can be of any use, Mr. Ticehurst, I 
 am ready." 
 
 "I think not, Mr. Fleming," I replied as 
 cheerfully as possible ; " we shall be out of 
 danger in a few minutes — or on the rocks," I 
 added to myself, as I closed the hatch. 
 
 It was a breathless and awful time, and I 
 confess that for a few moments I forgot the 
 very existence of Elsie, as I calculated over 
 and over again the chances as we neared the 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 48 
 
 Point. It depended on a hair, and when 
 I looked at Mackenzie, who was silent and 
 gloomy, I feared the worst. Yet it shows 
 how strangely one can be affected by one's 
 fellows that when I saw Haimer and Walker 
 standing side by side their almost cheerful 
 faces made me hope, and I smiled. But we 
 were within three cables' length of the Point, 
 and the roar of the breakers came up against 
 the wind until it deafened us. I watched 
 the men at the wheel, and I saw Matthias 
 flinch visibly as though he had been struck 
 by a whip. I didn't know why it was, I am 
 not good at such things, but I took a deeper 
 dislike to him that moment than I had ever 
 had, and I stepped up to him. Now in what 
 followed perhaps I myself was to blame, and 
 yet I feel I could not have acted differently. 
 Perhaps I looked threatening at him as I ap- 
 proached, but at any rate he let go the wheel 
 and fell bacK on the gratings. With an angry 
 oath I jumped into his place, struck him with 
 
44 
 
 I 
 
 THE MATS OF THB VANOOTTYBB. 
 
 my heel^ and then I saw Walker make a 
 tremendous spring forme, with an expression 
 of alarm in his face, as he looked beyond me, 
 that made me make a half turn. And that 
 movement saved my life. I felt the knife of 
 Matthias enter my shoulder like a red-hot 
 iron, and then it was wrenched out of his 
 hand and out of the wound by Walker. 
 
 In a moment the two were locked together, 
 and in another they were separated by Max;- 
 kenzie and the others; and Walker stood 
 smiling with the knife in his hand. Although 
 the blood was running down my body, I did 
 not feel faint, and kept my eye fixed on the 
 course kept by the Vancouver, while Macken- 
 zie held me in his arms, and Harmer took the 
 lee wheel from me. 
 
 " Luff a little ! " I cried, for we were almost 
 on the Point, and I saw a rock nearly dead 
 ahead. "Luff a little!" and t^^ey put the 
 helm down on a spoke or two. 
 
 The moments crawled by, and the coast 
 
 S 
 
 I 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 46 
 
 S 
 
 crawled nearer and nearer, as I began to feel 
 I was going blind and fainting. But I clung 
 to life and vision desperately, and the last I 
 saw was what I can see now, and shall always 
 see as plainly, the high black Point with its 
 ring of white water crawl aft and yet nearer, 
 aft to the foremast, aft to the mainmast 
 and then I fell and knew no more. For we 
 were saved. 
 
 When I came to, we were before the wind, 
 and I lay on a mattress in the cabin. Near 
 me was Elsie, and by her Helen, who was as 
 white as death. Both were watching me, and 
 when I opened my eyes Helen fell on lier 
 knees and suddenly went crimson, and then 
 white again, and fainted. But Elsie looked 
 harder and sterner than I had ever seen her. 
 I turaed my face away, and near me I saw 
 another mattress with a covered figure on it, 
 the figure of a dead man, for I knew the shape. 
 In my state of faintness a strange and horri- 
 ble delirium took possession of me. It seemed 
 
 I 
 
46 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 as if what I saw was seen only by myself, and 
 that it was a prophecy of my death. I fainted 
 again. 
 
 When I came to we were at anchor in San 
 Francisco Bay, and a doctor from the shore was 
 attending to me, while Mackenzie stood by, 
 smiling and rubbing his hands as if delighted 
 to get me off them. I looked at him i he 
 knelt down by me. 
 
 " Mackenzie, old man," I whispered, " didn't 
 I see somebody dead here ? " 
 
 "Aye, poor chap," he answered, bnish- 
 ing away a tear; "it was poor Wal- 
 ker." 
 
 " Walker ! " I said. " How was that ? " 
 
 "Accident, sir," said old Mac. "Just as 
 we rounded the Point and you fainted, the 
 old bark gave a heavy roll as we put her 
 before the wind, and Walker, as he was stand- 
 ing with that black dog's knife in his hand, 
 slipped and fell. The blade entered his 
 body, and all he said after was, * It was his 
 
 . ' 
 
I 
 . 1 
 
 ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 47 
 
 knife after all. He threatened to do for me 
 yesterday.' " 
 
 " Where's Will ? " I asked, when he ended, 
 for I was somehow anxious to save my 
 brother's credit, and I shouldn't have liked 
 to see him dismissed from the ship. 
 
 " He's ' u deck now, as busy as the devil in 
 a gale of wind," growled Mackenzie. " 'Tis 
 he that saved the ship. Oh, he's a miglity 
 man ! — but I don't sail with him no more." 
 
 However, he altered his mind about that. 
 
 Now, it has taken me a long time to get to 
 this point, and perhaps if I had been a better 
 
 
 
 navigator in the waters of story-telling I might 
 have done just what Will didn't do, and have 
 missed all the trouble of beating to windward 
 to get round to this part of my story. I might 
 have put it all in a few words, perhaps, but 
 then I like people to understand what I am 
 about, and it seems to me necessary. If it 
 isn't, I dare say someone will tell me one 
 of these days. At any rate, here I have got 
 
^s 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 into San Francisco, a city I don^t like by the 
 way, for it is a rascally place, managed by 
 the professional politicians, who are the worst 
 men in it; I had been badly wounded, 
 and the Malay v/as in prison, and (not 
 having money) he was likely to stay 
 there. 
 
 I waf? in the hospital for three weeks, and 
 I never had a more miserable or lonely time. 
 If T had not been stronger in constitution 
 than most men I think I should have died, so 
 much was I worried by my lo\e for Elsie, 
 who was going away thinking me a scoundrel, 
 who had tried to gain the love of my 
 brother's wife. Of course she did not come 
 near me, though I knew the Flemings were 
 still in the city. I learnt so much from Will, 
 wLo had the grace to come and see me, 
 thanking me, too, for h^^ng saved the Van- 
 cov/ver. 
 
 " You must get well soon, Tom," said he, 
 " for I need you very much Just now." 
 
 ' 
 
 mLSB 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 49 
 
 I kept silence, and lie looked at me in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 " Will," I said at length, " I shall never 
 sail with you again — I can't do it." 
 
 " Why not ? " he cried, in a loud voice, 
 which made the nurse come up and request 
 him to speak in a little lower tone. " Why 
 not ? I can't see what difference it will make, 
 anything that has occurred." 
 
 No^ he did not see, but then he did not 
 know. How could I go in the ship again 
 with Helen ? Besides, I had determined to 
 win Elsie for my wife, and how could I do 
 that if I let her go now, thinking what she 
 did of mt ? 
 
 " Weil, Will, I can't go," said I once more ; 
 " and I don't think I shall go to sea again, I 
 am sick of it." 
 
 Will stared, and whistled, and laughed. 
 
 "Ho!" said he; "I think I see how the 
 land lies. You ar^ going to settle in British 
 Columbia, eh ? You are a sly dog, but I can 
 
60 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 see through you. I know your little love- 
 affair; Helen told me as much as that one 
 day." 
 
 " Well, then, Will," I answered wearily, for 
 I was out of heart lying there, " if you know, 
 you can understand now why I am not going 
 to sail with you. But, Will," and I rose on 
 my elbow, hurting myself considerably as I 
 did so, " let me implore you not to drink in 
 future. Have done with it. It will ho your 
 ruin and your wife's — aye, and if I sailed 
 with you, mine as v^ell. Give me your hand, 
 and say you will be a sober man for the 
 future, and then I shall be content to go 
 where I must go — aye, and where I will go." 
 
 He gave me his hand, that was hot with 
 what he had been drinking even then (it was 
 eleven in the morning), and I saw tears in his 
 eyes. 
 
 " I will try, Tom," he muttered ; " but " 
 
 I think that " but " was the saddest word, 
 and the most prophetic, I ever heard on any 
 
 . 
 
ON Board the Vancouver. 61 
 
 man's lips. I saw how vain it was, and turned 
 away. He shook hands, and went without 
 saying more than "Good-by, Tom." I saw 
 him twice after that, and just twice. 
 
 By the time I was out of the hospital the 
 Vancouver was ready to go to sea, being 
 bound to England; and she might have 
 sailed even then, only it was necessr.y for 
 Tom Mackenzie and one or two others to re- 
 main as witnesses when they tried Matthias 
 for stabbing me, I shall not go into a long 
 description oi the trial, for I have read in 
 books of late so many tiial scenes that I fear 
 I should not have tli' patience to give details, 
 which, after all, are not necessary, since the 
 whole affair was so ' iple. And yet, what 
 followed afterward from that affair I can 
 remember as brightly and distinctly as if in 
 a glass — the look of the dingy court, the 
 fierce and revengeful eyes of Matthias, who 
 never spoke till the last, and the appearance 
 of Helen and Fanny (Elsie was not there) — 
 
 . 
 
62 
 
 THE MATE OS' THE VANOOtTVEft. 
 
 when the judge after the verdict inflicted a 
 sentence of eighteen months' hard labor on 
 the prisoner. Perhaps he had been in prison 
 before, and knew what it meant, or it was 
 simply the bitter thought of a revengeful 
 Oriental at being worsted by his opponent ; 
 but when he heard the sentence, he leant 
 forward and grasped the rail in front of him 
 tightly, and spoke. His skin was dark and 
 yet pallid, the perspiration stood in beads on 
 his forehead, he bit his lips until blood came, 
 while his eyes looked more like the eyes of a 
 human beast than those of a man. This is 
 what he said as he looked at me, and he 
 fipoke with a strange intensity which hushed 
 all noise. 
 
 " When I come out of jail I will track you 
 night and day, wherever y< u go or whatever 
 you do to escape me. Though you think I 
 do not know where you are, I shall always 
 be seeking for you, and at last I shall find 
 you. If a curse of mine could touch you, 
 
f 
 
 ON BOABD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 63 
 
 you should rot and wither now, but the time 
 will come when my hand shall strike you 
 down 1 " 
 
 Such was the meaning of what he said, 
 although it was not put exactly as I have 
 here written it down ; and if I confess, as I 
 should have to do at last before the end of 
 this story comes, that the words and the way 
 they were spoken — spoken so vehemently 
 and with so fixed a resolution — made me 
 shiver and feel afraid in a way I had never 
 done before, I hope nobody will blame me ; 
 but I am sure that being in love makes a 
 coward of a man in many ways, and in one 
 moment I saw myself robbed of life and love 
 just at their fniition. I beheld myself clasp- 
 ing Elsie to my bosom, having won from her 
 at last an avowal of her love, and then 
 stabbed or shot in her arms. Ah ! it was 
 dreadful the number of fashions my mind 
 went to work, in a quick fever of black ap- 
 prehension, to foretell or foresee my own 
 
! 
 
 54 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVfiE. 
 
 poss^Me doom. I had never thought myself 
 cowardly, but then I seemed to see what 
 death meant better than I had ever done; 
 and often the coward is what he is, as I think 
 now, from a vivid imagination, which so 
 many of us lack. I went out of the court in 
 a strange whirl, for you see I had only just 
 recovered. If I had been quite well I might 
 have laughed instead of feeling as I did. 
 But I did not laugh then. 
 
 Now, on the next morning the Vancouver 
 was to leave the harbor, being then at anchor 
 off Goat Island. All the money that was 
 due to me I had taken, for Will had given 
 me my discharge, and I sent home for what I 
 had saved, being quite uncertain what I 
 should do if I followed Elsie to British 
 Columbia. And that night I saw the last of 
 Will, the last I ever saw, little thinking then 
 how his fate and mine were bound up to- 
 gether, nor what it was to be. Helen was 
 with him, and I think if he had been sober 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 05 
 
 or even gentle with her in his drink, she 
 would have never spoken to me again as she 
 did on that day when she believed that life 
 was nearly at its end for both of us. But 
 Will, having finished all his business, had 
 begun to drink again, and was in a vile 
 temper as we sat in a room at the American 
 Exchange Hotel, where I was staying. 
 Helen tried to prevent his drinking. 
 
 "Will," she said, in rather a hard voice 
 from the constraint she put on herself, " you 
 have had enough of drink, we had better go 
 on board. ' 
 
 "Go on board yourself," said he, "and 
 don't jaw me! ^ wish I had left you in 
 Australia. A woman on board a ship is like 
 a piano in the foc's'le. Come and have a 
 drink, Tom." 
 
 "No, thank you," I said; "I have had 
 quite enough.'^ 
 
 And out he went, standing drinks at the 
 bar to half a dozen, some of whom would 
 
 I 
 
66 
 
 THE HATE OF THE VANOOUVER. 
 
 have cut his throat for a dollar, I dare say, by 
 the looks of them. Then Helen came over 
 and sat down by me. 
 
 " I have never spoken to you, Tom," she 
 began, and then she stopped, "since — you 
 know, since that dreadful day outside there," 
 and she pointed, just like a woman who 
 never knows the bearings of a place until she 
 has reckoned out how the house points first, 
 to the East when she meant the West, " and 
 now I feel I must, because I may never have 
 the chance again." 
 
 She took out her handkerchief, although 
 she was dry-eyed, and twisted it into a regu- 
 lar ground-swell knot, until I saw the stuff 
 give way here and there. She seemed un- 
 able to go on, and perhaps she would not 
 have said more if we hadn't heard Will's 
 voice, thick with drink, as he demanded more 
 liquor. 
 
 " Hear him I " she said hurriedly, " hear 
 the man who is my husband I What a fool I 
 
ON BOARD THE VANOOUVEB. 57 
 
 was ! You don't know, but I was. And I 
 am his wife ! Ah ! I could kill him ! I 
 could ! I could ! " 
 
 I was honified to see the passion she was 
 in ; it seemed to have a touch of real male 
 fuiy in it, just as when a man is trying to 
 control himself, feeling that if one more prov- 
 ocation is given him he will commit murder, 
 for she shook and shivered, and her voice 
 was strangely altered. 
 
 And just then Will came back, demand- 
 ing with an oath if she was ready to go. 
 She never spoke, but I should have been 
 sorry to have any woman look at me as she 
 did at him when his eyes were off her. I 
 shook hands with her and with him, for the 
 last time, and they went away. 
 
 Next morning, being lonely and having 
 nothing to do I went out to the park, made 
 on the great sand-dunes which runs from the 
 higher city to the ocean beach and the Cliff 
 House on the south side of the Golden Gate. 
 
I 
 
 68 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 For the sake of a quiet think I went out by 
 the cars, and walked to a place where few 
 ever came but chance visitors, except on 
 Sunday. It is just at the bend of the great 
 drive and a little above the road, where 
 there is a large tank with a wooden top, 
 which makes a good seat from which one 
 can see back to San Francisco and across the 
 bay to Oakland, Saucelito, and the other 
 little watering-places in the bay ; or before 
 one, toward the opening of the Golden 
 Gate, and the guns of Alcatraz Island, wheie 
 the military prison is. Here I took my seat 
 and looked out on the quiet beautiful bay 
 and the sea just breaking in a line of foam 
 on the beach beneath me. The sight of the 
 ships at anchor was rather melancholy to me, 
 for my life had been on the sea It seemed 
 as if a new and unknown life were before 
 me ; and a sailor starting anything ashore is 
 as strange as though some inveterate dweller 
 in a city should go to sea. There were one 
 
[ 
 
 ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 or two white sails outside the Heads, and 
 one vessel was being towed in ; there was a 
 broad wake from the Saucelito ferry-boat, 
 and far out to sea I saw the low Farallones 
 lying like a cloud on the horizon. It was 
 beyond them that my new life had begun, 
 really begun ; and though the day was fair, 
 I knew not how soon foul weather might 
 overtake me, and I knew indeed that it could 
 only be postponed unless fate were very 
 kind. I don't know how long I sat on that 
 tank drumming on the hollow wood, as I idly 
 picked up the pebbles from the ground and 
 threw them down into the road ; but at last 
 I saw what I had partly been waiting for — 
 the Vancouvei' being towed out to sea. I 
 had no need to look at her twice; I knew 
 every rope in her, and every patch of paint, 
 to say nothing of her masts being ranked a 
 little more than is usual nowadays. I had 
 no glass with me, but I fancied I could see a 
 patch of color on her poop that was Helen. 
 
60 
 
 THE MAT£ OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 I watched the vessel which had been my 
 home — and which, but for me, would have 
 been Ipng a wreck over yonder — ^f or more 
 than an hour, and then I turned to go home, 
 if I can call an American hotel " home " by 
 strained politeness, and just then I saw a 
 carriage come along. Now, I knew as well 
 before I could distinguish them that Els^e, 
 Fanny, and her father were in that carriage, 
 as I did that Helen was on board the 
 Vcmcouver ; and I sat down again feeling 
 very faint — I suppose from the effects of 
 ray wound, or the illness that came from it. 
 The carriage had almost passed beneath me 
 — and I felt Elsie saw me, though she made 
 no sign — before Mr. Fleming caught sight of 
 me. 
 
 " Hi ! stop ! " he called, and the driver 
 drew up. "Why, Mr. Ticehurst, is that 
 you? I thought the Vancouver had gone? 
 Besides, how does a mate find time to be 
 out here? Things must have changed 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 61 
 
 since 1 was at sea Come down ! Come 
 down ! " 
 
 I did so, and shook hands with them all, 
 though Elsie's hand lay in mine like a dead 
 thing until she drew it away. 
 
 " The VaTWouver has gone, Mr. Fleming," 
 said I ; " and there she is — look ! " 
 
 They all turned, and Elsie kept her eyes 
 fixed on it when the others looked at rae 
 again. 
 
 "Well," said Fleming, "what does it all 
 mean? Where are you going? Back to 
 town ? That's right, get in ! " And without 
 more ado the old man, who had the grip of 
 a vise, caught hold of me, and in I came like 
 a bale of cotton. " Drive on ! " 
 
 " Now then," he went on, " you can tell us 
 why you didn't go with them." 
 
 I paused a minute, watching Elsie. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Fleming," I said at last, "you 
 see I didn't quite agree with my brother.'' 
 
 "H'm! — calls taking the command from 
 
62 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 the captain not quite ajg^reeing witli tim," 
 cliuckled Fleming ; " but 1 thought you made 
 it vpf didn^t you ? " 
 
 " Yes, we made it up, but I w<>uldn't sail 
 with him any more. I had more than one 
 reason. ' 
 
 Agr^in I looked at Elsie, and she was, I 
 thought, a little pleaeanter, though she did 
 not speak. But Fanny pinched her arm, I 
 could see that, and looked roguishly at me. 
 However, Mr. Fleming, did not notice that 
 byplay. 
 
 " Well, he said, a trifle drily as I fancied, 
 " I won't put jou through your catechism, 
 except to ask you in a, fatherly kind of way " 
 (Elsie looked lown and frowned) " what you 
 are going to do now. I should nave thought 
 after what that rascal of a half-bred Malay, 
 or whatever he is, said, that you would have 
 left California in a huiTy." 
 
 "Time enough, Mr. Fleming — time enough. 
 I have eighteen months to look out on with- 
 
 1 
 
ON BOARD THE VANOOUVEB. 63 
 
 out fear of a knife in my ribs, and I may be 
 in China, or Alaska, or the Kocky Mountains 
 then." 
 
 You see I wanted to give them a hint that 
 I might turn up in British Columbia. Fanny 
 gave me a better chance though, and I could 
 have hugged her for it. 
 
 " Or British Columbia perhaps, Mr. Tice- 
 hUrst ? " she said smiling very innocently. 
 
 " Who knows," I answered, hastily ; "when 
 a man begins to travel, there is no knowing 
 where he may turn up. I had a fancy to go 
 to Alaska, though." 
 
 For the way to Alaska was the way to 
 British Columbia, and I did not want to sur- 
 piise them too much if I went on the same 
 steamer as far as Victoria. And in four 
 days I might see what chance I really had 
 with Elsie. 
 
 " Well," said the father, thoughtfully, " I 
 don't know, and can't give advice. I should 
 have thought that when a man was a good 
 
 1 
 
64 
 
 THE MATE 03F THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 sailor and held your position he ought to stick 
 to it. A rolling stone gathers no moss." 
 " Yes," I answered, " but I am tired of the 
 
 n 
 
 sea. 
 
 " So am I," said Fanny, " and I don't 
 blame you, though you ought to go with 
 careless captains just on purpose to save 
 people's lives, you know, Mr. Ticehurst ; for 
 you saved ours, and I think some of us 
 might thank you better than by sitting like a 
 dry stick without saying a word." 
 
 With this she dug at Elsie with her elbow, 
 smiling sweetly all the time. 
 
 "Yes," said Elsie, " and thera is Mr. 
 Harmer now in the Vancouver. Perhaps 
 she will be wrecked." 
 
 This was the first word she had spoken 
 since ^ had entered the caiTiage, and I 
 recognized by its spite that Elsie was a 
 woman not above having a little revenge. 
 For poor Fanny, who had flirted quite a 
 little with Harmer, said no more. - 
 
ON BOARD THE VANCOUVER. 66 
 
 They put down at their hotel, and I went 
 inside with them. 
 
 "Well," said Fleming, "I suppose we 
 shan't see you again, unless you do as Fanny 
 says, and turn up in our new country. If 
 you do, be sure we shall welcome you. And 
 I wish you well, my boy." 
 
 I shook hands with them again, and 
 turned away ; and as I did so, I noticed 
 some of their boxes marked, "Per 88. 
 Meodcor Fanny saw me looking, and 
 whispered quickly, as she passed me, " Tom 
 Ticehurst, go to Mexico ! " and vanished, 
 while Elsie stood in the gaslight for a 
 moment as if in indecision. But she turned 
 away. 
 
Part II. 
 
 SAN FBAN0I8CO AND NORTHWARD. 
 
 I NEVER felt SO miserable and so inclined 
 
 to go to sea to forget myself in hard work 
 
 as I did that evening after I had bidden 
 
 farewell to Elsie and her people. It seemed 
 
 to me that^ she had let me go too easily 
 
 out of her life for her to really care for me 
 
 enough to make her influence my course in 
 
 the way I had hoped, and hoped still. 
 
 Indeed, I think that if she had not stayed 
 
 that one undecided moment after she 
 
 withdrew her hand from mine, I should have 
 
 never done what I did do, but have looked 
 
 for a ship at once. For, after all, I said to 
 
 myself, what could a modest girl do more ? 
 
 Why, under the circumstances, when she 
 
 thought me guilty of a deliberate crime, 
 
 hateful to any woman, to say nothing of my 
 
 97 
 
68 iflE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 having made love to her at the same time, it 
 Was really more than I could have expected 
 or hoped. It showed that I had a hold upon 
 her affections; and then Fanny thought so 
 too, or she would have never said what she 
 did. " Go to Mexico ! " indeed ; if I wasn't 
 a fool, it was not Mexico the country, but 
 Mexico the steamer she meant. I had one 
 ally, at any rate. Still, I wondered if she 
 knew what Elsie did, though I thought not, 
 for she alone kissed Helen when they said 
 good-by, and Elsie had only given her her 
 hand unwillingly. If I could speak to 
 Fanny it might help me. But I was 
 determined to go northward, and sent my 
 dunnage down on board the steamer that 
 very evening. 
 
 In the morning, and early, for I lay awake 
 all that night, a thing I did not remember 
 having done before, I went down on the 
 Front at the bottom of Market Street, where 
 all the tram cars start, and walked to and fro 
 
SAN FRANCISCO AND NORTHWARD. 
 
 69 
 
 for some hours along the wharves where they 
 discharge lumber, or ship the coal. It was 
 quite a bright morning in the late autumn, 
 and everything was pleasant to look upon in 
 the pure air before it was fouled by the oaths 
 of the drivers of wagons and the jar of traffic. 
 Yet that same noise, which came dimly to me 
 until I was almost run over by a loaded 
 wagon, pleased me a great deal better than 
 the earlier quiet of the morning, and by eight 
 o'clock I was in a healthy frame of mind, 
 healthy enough to help three men with a 
 heavy piece of lumber just by way of exer- 
 cise. I went back to my room, washed my 
 hands, had breakfast, and went on board the 
 steamer, careless if the Flemings saw me, 
 though at first I had determined to keep out 
 of their way until the vessel was at sea. I 
 thanked my stars that I did so, for I saw 
 Fanny by herself on deck, and when she 
 caught sight of me she clapped her hands and 
 smiled. 
 
*0 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANOOltVEft. 
 
 "Well, and where are you going, Mr. 
 Ti<3eliurst ? '' said she, nodding at me as if she 
 guessed my secret. 
 
 " I am going to take your advice and go to 
 Mexico ! " I answered. 
 
 " Is it far here ? By land do you go, or 
 water ? " 
 
 " Not far, Fanny ; in fact ^ 
 
 "You are " 
 
 " There now I " said I, laughing in my turn. 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad, Mr. Ticehurst ! " said 
 she ; " for " and then she stopped. 
 
 " For what, ^'anny ? " I asked. ' 
 
 " I'm afraid I can't tell you. I should be a 
 traitor, and that is cowardly." 
 
 " No, Fanny, not when we are friends. If 
 you tell me, would you do any harm ? " 
 
 " No," she answered doubtfully. 
 
 " Then treachery is meant to do harm, and 
 if you don't mean harm it isn't treachery," I 
 replied coaxingly, but with bad logic as I have 
 been told since. 
 
SAN PRANOISOO AND NORTHWARD. 71 
 
 "Well, then, perhaps 1*11 say something. 
 Now suppose you liked me very much ^ 
 
 " So I do, Fanny, I swear I " 
 
 " No you don't, stupid ! How can you ? 
 I'm not twins — that is, I and somebody else 
 aren't the same — so don't interrupt. Sup- 
 pose you liked me very much, and I liked 
 you very much " 
 
 " It would be very nice, I dare say," I said, 
 in a doubtfid way that was neither diplo- 
 matic nor complimentary. 
 
 " And suppose you went off, and suppose I 
 didn't speak to my sister for hours, and kept 
 on being a nasty thing by tossing and tum- 
 bling about all night, so that she, poor girl, 
 couldn't go to sleep ; and then suppose when 
 she did go off nicely, she woke up to find me 
 —what do you think- crying, what would it 
 mean ? " 
 
 "Fanny," I exclaimed, in delight^ "you 
 are a dear girl, the very dearest ^^ 
 
 " No," she said, " no r* 
 
72 
 
 THB MAT£ OF THB VANCOUVER. 
 
 "That I ever saw. If there weren't so 
 many folks about, I would kiss you I " 
 
 And I meant it, but Fanny burst into 
 laughter. 
 
 " The idea ! I should like to see you try it. 
 I would box your ears till they were as red 
 as beetroot. But tnere, Tom, I am glad you 
 are coming on this dirty steamer. For I 
 have no one to talk to now but Elsie, and 
 she won't talk at all." 
 
 However, Fanny's little woes did not 
 trouble me much, for I was thinking of my 
 own, and wondering how I ought to act. 
 
 " Fanny," said I, " tell me what I shall do. 
 Shall I lie low and not show up until we are 
 out at sea, or what ? " 
 
 " If you don't want them to see you, you 
 had better look sharp, for they are coming 
 up now, I see Elsie's hat," said Fanny. And 
 I dived out of sight round the deck house, 
 and by dint of skillful navigation I got into 
 my bunk without any one seeing me. 
 
SAN FBANOISOO AND NOBTHWABD. 
 
 73 
 
 Now, the way Elsie found out I was on 
 board was very curious, and perhaps more 
 pleasing to Fanny than to her. My bunk 
 was an upper one, and through the open port- 
 hole I could look out on to the wharf. As I 
 lay there, in a much happier frame of mind 
 than I had known for many days, I stared 
 out carelessly, watching the men at work, 
 and the passers-by; and suddenly to my 
 great astonishment, I saw y<."ng Harmer 
 looking very miserable and unhappy. He 
 had left the Varwoit/ver^ too, but of course 
 without leave, as he was an apprentice. Now, 
 if I was surprised I was angry, too. It was 
 such a foolish trick, and I thought I would 
 give him a talking to at once. I spoke 
 through the port. 
 
 " You infernal young fool ! " said I, " what 
 are you doing here ? Why did you leave 
 your ship ? " 
 
 If ever I saw a bewildered face it was 
 Harmer' s. For some seconds he looked every- 
 
74 
 
 THB MATE OF THE VANOOUVBB. 
 
 where for the voice, and could not locate it 
 either on the wharf, deck, or anywhere 
 elsa 
 
 **You ought to be rope's-ended for an 
 idiot ! " I went on, and then he saw part 
 of my face, but without knowing who I was. 
 He flushed crimson, and looked like a young 
 turkeycock, with his wings down and his tail 
 up. 
 
 "Who the devil are you, anyhow," he 
 asked fiercely, " You come out here and I'll 
 pull your ugly head off ! " 
 
 "Thank you," I answered calmly, "my 
 head is of more use to me than yours is, 
 apparently ; and if you don't know my voice, 
 it belongs to Tom Ticehurst I " 
 
 Harmer jumped. 
 
 " Hurrah I Oh, Fm so glad. I was looking 
 for you, Mr. Ticehurst, and hunting every- 
 where." 
 
 " And not for anyone else, I suppose ? " I 
 put in, an^ then I saw him look up. I knew 
 
SAN FRANCISCO AND NORTHWARD. 
 
 75 
 
 just as well as he did that he saw Fanny, and 
 I hoped that Elsie was not with her. But 
 she was. 
 
 "How d'ye do, Miss Fleming?" said he 
 nt^rvously ; ^* and you, Miss Fanny ? I hope 
 you ai'e well. I was just talking to Mr. 
 Ticehurst." 
 
 I swore a little at this, and tumbled out of 
 my bunk, and went on deck to face the music, 
 as the Americans say, and I got behind the 
 girls in time to hear the little hypocrite Fanny 
 say sweetly : 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Haimer, you must be mistaken, 
 I'm sure ! Mr. Ticehurst if going to Mexico 
 or somewhere, lie can't be here." 
 
 "Miss Fanny," said the boy earnestly, 
 " I tell you he is, and there— just behind 
 you. By Jove, I am coming on board ! " 
 
 And he scrambled up the side like a 
 monkey, as Elsie turned and saw me. 
 
 I said good-moiTiing to her and we shook 
 hands. I could see she was nervous, and 
 
76 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 fancied I could see traces of what Fanny, 
 tviio talked hard, had told me. 
 
 " Dear me, Mr. Ticehui'st ! ^ said Fanny 
 vigorously. " You didn't shake hands with 
 me, and see the time it is since we last met I 
 Why, was it yesterd.'^y, or when ? But men 
 are so forgetful. I rever did like boys 
 when I was a little girl, and I shall keep 
 it up. Yes, Mr. Harrner, now I can shake 
 hands, for not having arms ten feet long I 
 couldn't reach yours over the rail, though 
 yci did hold them out like a signal 
 post." 
 
 Then she and Harmer talked, and I lost 
 what they said. 
 
 "Where is your father. Miss Fleming?" 
 I asked, for though I felt obliged to talk, 
 I could say nothing but that unless I re- 
 marked it was a fine day. But it had been 
 fine for six-months in California. 
 
 " He went ashore, Mr. Ticehurst, and won't 
 be back until the steamr r is nearly ready to 
 
 / 
 
 JL 
 
\ 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO AND NORTHWARD. 77 
 
 go. But now I must go down. Come, 
 Fanny ! " 
 
 * What for ? " demanded that young lady. 
 " Fm not coming, I shall stay ; I like the 
 deck, and hate the cabin — niisty stuffy hole ! 
 I shall not go down; as the pilot told thf; 
 man in the stupid song: *I shall pace the 
 deck with thee/ Mr. Ticehurst, please." 
 
 " Thank you, Fanny," said I ; " but I 
 want to talk to Ilarmer here before the 
 steamer goes, and if you will go with your 
 sister perhaps it will be best." 
 
 She pouted and looked about her, and 
 with a pairing smile for Harmer, and a 
 mouth for me, she followed Elsie. I turned 
 to the lad. 
 
 "Now," I began, "you're a nice boy! 
 What does it all mean i " 
 
 "It means that I couldn't stay on the 
 Vancouver if you weren't there, Mr. Tice- 
 hui-st. I made up my mind to that the mo- 
 ment I heard you were leaving, I will go 
 
i 
 
 W TME MATE or T«E VANOOiJVEB. 
 
 Oil your A^xt ship ; but jofi know, if yoa 
 didn't mii>d aiy aaying it, J couldn't stand 
 your brother ; ' would rather be mtnek by you 
 than called a cu>b by aim. A e^b,' indeed 
 — I am as big as he is, and bigger ! ** 
 
 So he was, and a fine handsome lad into 
 the bai'gain, with curly brown hair, though 
 his features were a little too femioiue for hi« 
 size and strength. 
 
 ^^ Harmer," I said drily " I think you have 
 done it now very completely. This is my 
 next ship, and I am a passenger in her." 
 
 He didn't seem to mind ; in fact, he took it 
 so coolly that I began to think he knew. 
 
 "That doesn't matter, Mr. Ticehurst," he 
 said cheerfully ; "1 will come with you." 
 
 I staled. 
 
 "The devil yon will I Do you know 
 where I am going, what I jim going to do ? — 
 or have you any ^ lans of your own cut and 
 dried for me i 
 
 " I don't see that it matters, Mr. Tice- 
 
SAN PRANOISOO AND NORTHWARD. 79 
 
 hurst," he answered, with a coolness I ad. 
 mired; "I have more than enough to pay 
 my fare, and if you go to British Colum- 
 bia I dare say I can get something to do 
 there." 
 
 "Ah? I see," I replied; "you are tired of 
 the sea, and would like to marry and settle 
 down, eh ? " 
 
 He looked at me, and blushed a little. 
 
 "All the more reason I should go with 
 you, sir ; for then — then — there would be — 
 you know." 
 
 " What, Harraer ?" I asked. 
 
 " A pair of us," he answered humbly. 
 
 " H^ra, you are a nice boy ? What will 
 your father say if he hears you have gone off 
 fe this way ? " 
 
 Harmer looked at me and laughed. 
 
 " He will say it was your fault, sir ! 
 But I had better get my dunnage on 
 board." 
 
 And away he went. 
 
 ■ 
 
 \ ■ 
 
 I 
 
80 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 "Harmer, come back!" I cried, but he 
 only turned, nodded cheerfully, and disap- 
 peared in the crowd. 
 
 On the whole, although the appearance of 
 Harmer added a new responsibility to those 
 which were already a suflScient burden, I 
 was not ill-pleased, for I thoroughly liked 
 him, and had parted with him very unwill- 
 ingly when I shook his hand on board the 
 Vancouver for the last time, as I thought 
 then. At any rate, he would be a companion 
 for me, and if by having to look after him I 
 was prevented in any measure from becoming 
 selfish about Elsie, I might thauk his boyish 
 foolishness in being unable to prevent him- 
 self ninniiig after Fanny, whom, to say the 
 truth, I considered a little flirt, though a dear 
 little girl. And, then, Harmer might be able 
 to help me with Elsie. It was something to 
 have somebody about that I could trust in 
 case of accident. 
 
 It was nearer eleven than ten when the 
 
 
SAN FRANCISCO AND NORTHWARD. 81 
 
 steamer's whistle shrieked for the last time, 
 and the crew began to haul the warps on 
 board. I could see that Elsie and Fanny 
 were beginning to think that their father 
 would arrive too late, when I saw him coming 
 along the wharf with Harmer just behind 
 him. Up to this time I really believed Mr. 
 Fleming, with the curious innocence that 
 fathers often show, even those who from their 
 antecedents and character might be expected 
 to know better, had never thought of me as 
 beimg his daughter's lover ; but when he had 
 joined his daughters on the hurricane deck, 
 and caught sight of Harmer and myself 
 standing on the main, I saw in .^ moment 
 thut he knew almost as much as wo could tell 
 him, and that for a few seconds lie was doubt- 
 ful whether to laugh or to be angry. I saw 
 him look at me sternly for a few seconds, 
 then he shook his head with a very 
 mixed smile on his weather-beaten face, and, 
 sitting down on the nearest bench, he burst 
 
 J 
 
82 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 
 I?:| 
 
 ! ,! 
 
 I'd 
 
 into laughter. I went up the poop ladder 
 and caught Fanny's words : 
 
 " Why, father, what is the matter with 
 yous Don't laugh so, all the people will 
 think you crazy ? " 
 
 "So I am, my dear, clean crazy," he an- 
 swered ; " because I fancied I saw Tom Tice- 
 hurst and young Harmer down on deck there, 
 and of course it is impossible, I kno\/ that — 
 quite impossible. It was an hallucination. 
 For what could they want here, I should like 
 to know? You don't know, of course? 
 Well, well, I am surprised ! " 
 
 Just then I came up and showed myself, 
 looking quite easy, though I confess to feel- 
 ing more like a fool than I remember doing 
 since I was a boy. 
 
 " Oh, then you a/re here, Ticehurst ? " said 
 the old man. " It wasn't a vision, after all. 
 I was just tolling Fanny here that I thought 
 I was going off my head." 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 II 
 
 !) i 
 
SAN FRANCISCO ANJ> NORTHWARD. 
 
 83 
 
 *'Why, Mr. Fleming," I said, "is it im- 
 possible that I, too, should go to Victoria^ on 
 my way to Alaska ? " 
 
 Fleming looked at me curiously, and al- 
 most winked. "Ah! Alaska, to be sure," 
 said he. "You did speak of Alaska. It 
 must be a nice place. You will be quite 
 close to us. Come over and give us a call." 
 
 " Thank you for the invitation," I replied, 
 laughing. " I will come to tea, and bring my 
 young friend with me." 
 
 For Harmer now walked up, shook hands 
 with the old man in the most ordinary way, 
 and sat down between him and Fanny with 
 a coolness I could not have imitated for my 
 life. It is a strange thing to think of the 
 amount of impudence boys have from seven- 
 teen to twenty-three or so ; they will do 
 things a man of thirty would almost faint to 
 attempt, and succeed because they don't 
 know the risk they run. Harmer was soon 
 engaged in talk with Fanny, and I tried in 
 
 i^ 
 
84 
 
 THE MATB OP THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 vain to imitate him. I found Elsie as cold 
 as ice; I could make no impression on her 
 and was almost in despair at the very outset. 
 If Fanny had told me the tnith in the morn- 
 ing, then Elsie held a great command over 
 herself. I soon gave up the attack and re- 
 treated to my berth, where I smoked sav- 
 agely and was miserable. You can see I did 
 not understand much about women then. 
 
 The passage from San Francisco to Vic- 
 toria takes about four days, and in that time 
 I had to make up my mind what I was go- 
 ing to do. If what Fanny said were true, 
 Elsie loved me, and it was only that foolish 
 and wretched affair with Helen that stood in 
 my way. Yet, could I tell the girl how 
 matters were? It seemed to me then, and 
 seems to me now, that I was bound in honor 
 not to tell her. I could not say to her bru- 
 tally that my brother's wife had made love to 
 me, and that I wis wholly blameless. It 
 would be cowardly, and yet I ought to clear 
 
 
SAN FBANOISOO AND NORTHWARD. 
 
 85 
 
 myself. It was an awkwaru dilemma. 
 Then, again, it was quite possible that Fanny 
 was mistaken ; if she did not care for me, it 
 was all the harder, and I could not court her 
 with that mark against me. Yet I was 
 determined to win her, and as I sat in my 
 berth I grew fierce and savage in my heart. 
 I swore that I would gain her over, I would 
 force her to love me, if I had to kill any who 
 stood in my way. For love makes a man 
 devilish sometimes as well as good. I had 
 come on board saying, " If I see no chance 
 to win her before I get to Victoria, i will 
 let her go." And now when we v ire just out- 
 side the Golden Gate, I swore to follow her 
 always. "Yes, even if she spurns me, if 
 she mocks, taunts me, I will make her 
 come to me at last, put her arms round my 
 neck, and ask my forgiveness." I said this, 
 and unconsciously I added, " I will follow 
 her night and day, in sunshine and in rain, in 
 health or sickness." 
 
 . 
 
86 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 Then I started violently, for I was using 
 words like those of the Malay, who was 
 waiting his time to follow me, and for ever 
 in the daytime or nighttime I knew he was 
 whetting the keen edge of his hate. I could 
 see him in his cell; I could imagine him 
 recalling my face to mind, for I knew what 
 such men are. I had served as second mate 
 in a vessel that had been manned with 
 Orientals and the off-scourings of Singapore, 
 such &;i Matthias was, and I knew them only 
 too well. He would follow me, even as I 
 followed her, and as she was a light before 
 me, he would be a dark shadow behind me. 
 I wished then that I had killed him on board 
 the Vanocni/verj for I felt that we should one 
 day meet ; and who could discern what our 
 meeting would bring forth in our lives ? I 
 know that from that time forward he never 
 left me, for in the hour that I vowed to 
 follow Elsie until she loved me, I saw very 
 clearly that he would keep his word, though 
 
SAN PRANOTSCO AND NORTHWARD. 
 
 87 
 
 he had but strength to crawl after me and 
 kiU me as I slept. Henceforth, he was 
 always more or less in my mind. Yet, if I 
 could win Elsie first, I did not care. It 
 might be a race between us, and her love 
 might be a shield to protect me in my hour 
 of need. I prayed that it might be so, 
 and if it could not, then at least let me 
 win her love before the end. 
 
 For two days I kept out of the Flemings* 
 way, or rather out of the way of the girls, 
 for Mr. Fleming himseK could not be 
 avoided, as he slept in the men's berth in a 
 bunk close to mine. I believe that the first 
 day on board he spoke to Elsie about me ; 
 indeed I know he did, for I heard so after- 
 ward; and I think it was only on her 
 assurance that there was and could be 
 nothing between us, that he endured the 
 situation so easily. In the first place, 
 although he was not rich, he was fairly 
 well oif in Australia; and though the 
 
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 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 British Columbian ranch property was 
 not equal in value to that which he had 
 made for himself, yet it represented a sum 
 of money such as I could not scarcely make 
 in many years in these hard times. It would 
 hardly be human nature for a father to look 
 upon me as the right sort of man for his 
 daughter, especially since I was such a fool 
 as to quii; the sea without anything definite 
 awaiting me on land. So, I say, that if he 
 had thought that Elsie loved me I might 
 have found him a disagreeable companion, 
 and it was no consolation to me to see that 
 he treated me in a sort of half-contemptuous, 
 half-pitying way, for I would rather have 
 seen him like one of the lizards on the 
 Australian plains, such as the girls had 
 told me of, which erect a spiny frill over 
 their heads, and swell themselves out the 
 whole length of their body until their 
 natural ugliness becomes a very horror and 
 scares anything which has the curiosity 
 
""iPPHipw 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO AND NORTHWARD. 
 
 89 
 
 or rashness to approach and threaten 
 them. 
 
 " What are you going to do in Alaska or 
 British Columbia, Tom ? " saiU he to me one 
 day. "Do you think of farming, or seal- 
 hunting, or gold-mining, or what? I 
 should like to hear your plans, if you have 
 any." And then he went on without wait- 
 ing for an answer, showing plainly that he 
 thought that I had none, and was a fool. 
 "And that young idiot Harmer, why 
 didn't he stick to his ship ? " 
 
 " Because he will never stick to anything, 
 Mr. Fleming," I answered, " though he is a 
 clever young fellow, and fit for other things 
 than sailoring, if I'm a judge. But as for 
 myself I don't think I am, and yet when I 
 make up my mind to a thing, I usually do 
 it." 
 
 "You usually succeed, then?" said he, 
 with a hard smile. " It is well to have be- 
 lief in one's own strength and abilities. 
 
00 
 
 THE MATS OF THE VANOOtTVEtt. 
 
 But sometimes others have strength as well, 
 and then " 
 
 " And then," I answered, " it is very often 
 a question of will." 
 
 He smiled again and dropped the subject. 
 
 On the third day out from San Francisco, 
 when we were running along the coast of 
 Oregon, I found at last an opportunity of 
 speaking to Elsie. I first went to Eanny. 
 
 "Fanny, my dear girl, I want to speak 
 to you a few minutes." I sat down beside 
 her. 
 
 "I think you know, Fanny, why I am 
 here, don't you ? " I asked. 
 
 " It is tolerably obvious, Mr. Ticehurst," 
 she answered rather gravely, I thought. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose it is; but first I want 
 to be sure whether you were right about 
 what you told me on the morning we left 
 San Francisco." 
 
 I was silent, and looked at her. She 
 seemed a trifle distressed. 
 
SAN FBANOISOO AND NORTHWAED. 
 
 91 
 
 "Well, Tom, I tliouglit that I was," she 
 answered at length ; " and I still think I am 
 ^-and yet I don't know. You see, Elsie is a 
 strange girl, and never confides in anyone 
 since dear mother died, and she would nev6r 
 confess anything to me. Still, I have eyes 
 in my head, and ears too. But since you 
 have been with us she has been harder and 
 colder than I ever saw her in all my life, and 
 she has said enough to make me think that 
 there is something that I know nothing about 
 which makes her so. You know, I joked her 
 about you yesterday, and she got so angry 
 all of a sudden, like pouring kerosene on a 
 fire, and she said you were a coward. When 
 I asked her why, she turned white and 
 wouldn't answer. Then I said of course you 
 must be a coward if she said so, but I didn't 
 think she had any right to say it or think it 
 when you had saved all our lives by your 
 coolness and courage. And then, you know, 
 I got angry and cried, because I like you 
 
92 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 very much, just as much as I do my brother 
 
 on the station at home. And I said she was 
 
 a cruel beast, and all kinds of horrid things, 
 
 until I couldn't think ox anything but making 
 
 faces at her, just as I did when I was a child. 
 
 And we are having a quarrel now, and it is 
 
 all about you — you ought to be proud." 
 
 And I'anny looked up half laughing and half 
 
 crying, for she dearly loved Elsie, as I knew. 
 
 " Well, my dear little sister Fanny," I said, 
 
 " for you shall be my sister one day, there is 
 
 something that makes her think ill of me, 
 
 but it is not my fault, as far as I can see. 
 
 And I can't convince her of that, except by 
 
 showing her that I am not the man she 
 
 thinks, unless some accident puts me back 
 
 into the place I once believed I held in her 
 
 thoughts. But I want to speak to her, and I 
 
 must do it to-day. To-morrow we shall be 
 
 in Victoria, and I should not like to part 
 
 with her without speaking. If I talk with 
 
 her now, it will probably take some time, so 
 
1 
 
 ■ ' ' ■l f *'<'T- 
 
 SAN FRANOISOO AND NORTHWAKD. 
 
 93 
 
 I want you, if you can, to prevent anyone 
 interrapting us." 
 
 Fanny nodded, and wipped away a tear 
 in a quick manner, just as if it were a 
 
 fly. 
 
 "Very well, I will. You know I trust 
 you, if Elsie doesn't." And she went over 
 to Harmer, who was in a fidget, and kept 
 looking at me as if he was wondering what I 
 meant by talking so confidentially to Fanny. 
 
 I found Elsie sitting by herseK just for- 
 ward of the funnel. She was reading, and 
 though when I spoke she answered and put 
 the book down in her lap, she kept looking 
 at it in a nei'vous way, as if she wished I had 
 not interrupted her ; and we had been talk- 
 ing some minutes before she seemed to wholly 
 forget that it was there. 
 
 I spoke without any thought of what I 
 was I )ing to say. 
 
 " Miss Fleming (see, I call you that, though 
 a little while ago it was Elsie), I have deter- 
 
94 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVBB. 
 
 mined to speak to you in spite of tlie way 
 you avoid me." 
 
 **I would rather you did not, Mr. Tice- 
 hurst," she said. 
 
 " It has come to a time when I must do as 
 I think fit, even if I am rude and rough. I 
 have something to say, and mean to say it. 
 Miss Fleming; and if I word it in rough or 
 broken fashion, if I stumble over it or stam- 
 mer with my tongue, you will know why, 
 just as you know why I am here. Come 
 now, why am I on this steamer ? " 
 
 She remained mute, with her head bent 
 down, and the gold of her hair loose over her 
 eyes, so that I could not see them. But she 
 trembled a little, and was ripping one of the 
 pages of her book. I took hold of it and put 
 it down. She made no remonstrance, and I 
 began to feel that I had power over her, 
 though how far it went I could not telL 
 
 "Why am I here? " I went on scornfully. 
 ** Oh, on a pleasure trip to see the advertised 
 
 b 
 
SAN FRANCISCO AND NORTHWARD. 
 
 95 
 
 coast from San Francisco to Sitka, to behold 
 Mount Elias and its glaciers I By Heavens, 
 I think I have ice nearer at hand ! Oh, it is 
 business ? I wish to gain wealth, so I give 
 up what I understand, and go into what is as 
 familiar to me as a sextant is to a savage ! 
 It can't be business. Do you know what it 
 is. Miss Fleming ? Look, I think there was 
 a girl who I knew once, but she was a kind, 
 bright girl, who was joyous, whom I called 
 by her Christian name, who walked by my 
 side in the moonlight, when the sails were 
 silvered and their shadows dark, when I kept 
 the first watch in the Vcmcouver, I wonder 
 what has become of her? That girl would 
 have known, but " 
 
 I stopped, and she was still stubborn. 
 But she did not move. I went on again : 
 
 " There must be evil spirits on the sea that 
 fly like petrels in the storm, and come on 
 board ship and enter into the hearts of those 
 they find there. Why -" 
 
96 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVEB. 
 
 "I fear, Mr. TiceLurst," she interrupted, 
 '^tliat you think me a fool. If I am not, 
 then your talk is vain ; and if I am, I surely 
 am not fit to mate with you. Let us cease to 
 talk about this, for it is useless I ^ 
 
 I was almost choking with passion ; it was 
 so hard to be misconcieved, even though she 
 had so much reason on her side. Yet, since 
 I knew she was wrong, I almost wished to 
 shake her. 
 
 "No I " I said at last, " I will not go until 
 I have an understanding one way or the 
 other. We have been beating about the 
 bush, but I will do it no longer. You know 
 that I love you ! " 
 
 She drew herself up. 
 
 " How many can you love at a time, Mr. 
 Ticehurst? " she said. 
 
 "One, only one," I replied. "You are 
 utterly mistaken." 
 
 "I am not mistaken!" she said; "and I 
 think you are a coward and a traitor. If 
 
SAN FRANCISCO AND NORTHWARD. 
 
 97 
 
 you were not, I miglit love you ; but as you 
 are, such a thing is impossible.'* 
 
 I caught her by the wrist. Instinctively 
 she tried to free herself, but finding she 
 could not, looked up. When she caught my 
 eye, her indignant remonstrance died on her 
 lips. 
 
 "Look you, Elsie, what can I do? 
 Perhaps I cannot defend myself; there are 
 some situations where a man cannot for the 
 sake of others. I can say no more about 
 that. And I will make you see you are 
 wrong, if not by proof, by showing you 
 what I am — a man incapable of what you 
 think me — and in the end I will make you 
 love me." I paused for a moment, but she 
 did not move. 
 
 " You have listened to ma Elsie, and you 
 can see what I mean, you can think whether 
 I shall falter or swerve ; and now I ask you, 
 for I am assured you do love me, or that you 
 did, whether you will not trust me now? 
 
98 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 For you cannot believe that I could speak 
 as I do if I had done what you think." 
 
 I looked at Elsie, and she was very pale. 
 I could see that I had moved her, had 
 shaken her conviction, that she was at war 
 with herself. I got up, went to the side, 
 and then turned, beckoning to her to look 
 over to seaward with me. She came almost 
 like a woman walking in her sleep, and took 
 a place by my side. I did so to avoid 
 notice, for I feared to attract attention; 
 indeed, I saw two passengers looking at us 
 curiously, one of whom smiled so that I 
 began to wish to throw him overboard. Yet 
 I think, as a matter of fact, I did wrong in 
 allowing her to move ; it broke the influence 
 I held over her in a measure, for I have 
 often noticed since that to obtain control of 
 some people one should keep steadily 
 insisting on the one point, and never allow 
 them to go beyond, or even to think beyond 
 it. But then to do so one must be stronger 
 
 1^ 
 
H^"W" 
 
 SAN FRANOIScO AND NOKTUWAKD. 
 
 99 
 
 than I was, or lie will lose control over 
 himself, as I did, and so make errors in 
 judgment. 
 
 " Elsie," I said quietly, " are you not 
 going to answer me ? Or ari I not worth 
 it?" 
 
 Now, up to this moment I had taken her 
 away from the past ; in her emotion she had 
 almost forgotten Helen ; she was just waver- 
 ing and was on the point of giving in to me. 
 Yet by that last suggestion of mine I 
 brought it back to her. 1 could see in her 
 mind the darker depths of her fear and 
 distrust of me, and what I rightly judged 
 her hatred and jealousy of Helen. Though I 
 do not think I know much of character, yet in 
 the state of mind that I was in then I seemed 
 to see her mind, as a much more subtle man 
 might have done, and my own error. I could 
 have cursed my own folly. She had taken 
 the book again, and was holding it open in 
 her hand. Until I spoke she held it so 
 
100 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 lightly that it shook and wavered, but she 
 caught it in both hands and shut it suddenly, 
 as though it was the book of her heart that 
 I had been reading, and she denied my right 
 to do it. And she turned toward me cold 
 once more, though by a strange influence she 
 caught my thought. 
 
 " This is a closed book, Mr. Ticehiu-st. It 
 is the book of the past, and — it is gone for 
 ever." She dropped it over the side with a 
 mocking smile. But I caught hold of her 
 hand and held it. 
 
 "Ah!" said I, "then we begin again. If 
 the past is dead, the present lives, and the 
 future is yet unborn. You mean one thing 
 now, and I mean the other; but in the 
 future we shall both mean the same. 
 Remember what I say, Elsie — ^remember it. 
 For unless I am dead, I will be your 
 acknowledged lover and your husband at 
 last." 
 
 I dropped her hand and walked away, and 
 
SAIJ tRANOlSOO AND KORTliWAftD. lOl 
 
 when I looked back I saw her fol] owing me 
 with her eyes. I would have given much 
 then to have been able to know of what she 
 thought. I went below and slept for many 
 hours a sleep of exhaustion, for though a 
 man may be as strong as a lion physically, an 
 excess of emotion takes more from him than 
 the most terrible physical toil. 
 
 The next morning we were in Victoria, and 
 I neither had, nor did I seek, an opportunity 
 of again speaking with Elsie. But I did talk 
 for a few moments with Fanny. I told her 
 some part of what occurred, but not much. 
 She said as much : 
 
 "You are keeping something back, Tom. 
 I think you know some reason why Elsie 
 won't iiave anything to do with you ? " 
 
 "I do, Fanny," I replied: "but there is 
 nothing in it at all, and one of these days she 
 will discover it." 
 
 " I hope so," said she, a little dryly for so 
 young a girl ; " but Elsie is a little obstinate, 
 
103 Tms MATjS of the VANOOTJVJJR. 
 
 and I have seen horses that would not jump a 
 gate. You may have to open it yet, Tom." 
 
 " It may open of it itself, Fanny, or the 
 horse may desire the grass and jump at last; 
 hut I wU never open it myself." 
 
 And I shook hands with her and Mr. 
 Fleming. I took off my hat to Elsie, but 
 said in a low voice : 
 
 " Remember what I said, Elsie, for I shall 
 never forget." And then she turned away ; 
 but did not look back this time, as she had 
 done when we parted in the hotel. Yet 
 such is the curious state a lover is in that I 
 actually comforted myself that she did not, 
 for if she had, I said, it would have showed 
 she was callous and cold. Perhaps, though 
 she kept command over herself just for the 
 time, it failed her at the last, and she would 
 not let me see it. 
 
 When they were gone, Harmer and I went 
 ashore toa As to the boy, he was so des- 
 perately in lover—calf-love — that I had to 
 
 /^ r% 
 
^' 
 
 mmm 
 
 *ir 
 
 
 SAW FRANCISCO AND NORTHWARD. 103 
 
 cheer him up, and the way I did it makes me 
 * iti * laugh now, for I have a larger experience of 
 
 boys and men than I had then. 
 ^1 % "Never mind, Harmer," said I, "you will 
 
 get over this in no time — see if you don't." 
 
 He turned i-ound in a blazing rage, and I 
 think if it had not been for the effects oi the 
 old discipline, which was y^t strong upon 
 him, he would have sworn at me ; for al- 
 though Harmer looked as if butter T?\'ouldn't 
 melt in his mouth, I knew he had a very 
 copious vocabulary of abuse at his command, 
 such as one learns only too easily at sea. 
 
 " What, Mr. Ticehurst ! " he said stammer- 
 ing. " Get over it ? I never shall, and I 
 don't want to, and, what's more, I wouldn't 
 if I could ! It's not kind of you to say so, 
 and I think— I think " 
 
 "What, Jack?" said I, thunderstruck at 
 this outburst, when I meant consolation. 
 
 "That you'll get over it first. There 
 now * " said he, triumphant with this retort 
 
 rfMM 
 
Hi,. JJJ 
 
 104 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 I burst into laughter. 
 
 " Well — well, Hanner, I didn't mean to 
 vex you. We must not quarrel now, for 
 Jordan's a hard road to travel, I believe, ^.nd 
 you and I have got to make lots of money ; 
 at least you have ; if we are going to do any- 
 thing in this country. For its what the 
 Yankees call a tough place." 
 
 "Yes," replied Harmer, now ashamed of 
 of being angry. " I heard one fellow say to 
 another on the steamer, *You goldamed 
 fellers from the East think you're going to 
 get a soft seat over here, but you bet you'll 
 have to rustle on the Pacific Slope o^ else 
 git!' And then he turned to me. *D'ye 
 hear that, young feller ? — you've got to rustle 
 right smart, or you'll get left.' " 
 
 And Jack laughed heartily irying to imi- 
 tate the accent of his adviser, but he foimd it 
 hard to disguise his own pure English, learnt 
 in a home far across the seas and the wide 
 stretch of the American Continent. 
 
Pi 
 
 ^1 
 
 SAN FBANOISCO AND NORTHWARD. 106 
 
 That night we stayed in V ictoria in a rough 
 hotel kept by two brothers, Comishmen, who 
 invited us both to have drinks on the strength 
 of our all being Englishman, though I should 
 never have suspected that they were such, so 
 well did their accent disguise the truth from 
 me. And in the morning, two days after, we 
 went on board the Western Slope bound for 
 New Westminster, on the mainland of British 
 Columbia, whither the Flemings had preceded 
 
 us. 
 
Y"^ 
 
 Paet hi. 
 
 A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 What I have just written is but tte 
 connecting link between two series of 
 events — the hyphen between two words; 
 and I shall not try to hurry on to the strange 
 drama of a few days to which all that pre- 
 cedes it has been but the inevitable prologue, 
 without which there were no clear under- 
 standing of its incidents. I am going, there- 
 fore, to dispose of a whole year's events in a 
 few words, though much occurred in that 
 time which might be worth relating, if I 
 were a professional writer, able to make 
 things interesting to all, or if I had the 
 faculty of making word-pictures of places 
 and scenes which stand out clearly before 
 me whenever I reflect, and the full times of 
 the past come up for review. 
 
 m 
 
 mm 
 
T^..,M.li'i 
 
 108 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVEE. 
 
 What Jack Harmer and I did for that 
 year truly would take ten times the spa<je I 
 have allowed myself, and have been allowed, 
 and I shall say but little now if I can only 
 dispose of that twelve months in a way that 
 places my readers in a position to clearly 
 understand what passed in the thirteenth 
 month after I had landed in British Columbia. 
 
 Now on our landing we had but £40 
 between us, and I was the possessor of nearly 
 all that amount, about two hundred dollars 
 in American currency. It is true I had a. 
 hundred and fifty pounds in England, which 
 I had sent for, and Harmer had quite coolly 
 asked hi father for fifty, which I may state 
 here he did Twt get in a letter which advised 
 him to return to England, and go in for 
 something worth having before it was too 
 late. 
 
 "He means the Civil Service, I know," 
 paid Jack, when he read the letter ; " and I 
 hate the notion. They are all fossils in it, 
 
 
A OOLOEN LINK. 109 
 
 and if they have brains to start with, they 
 rarely keep them — why should they? 
 They Ve not half as much use as a friend at 
 court." 
 
 Perhaps he was right, yet I advised him 
 to take his father's advice, and he took 
 neither his nor mine, but stuck to me per- 
 sistently with a devotion that pleased and 
 yet annoyed me. For I desired a free hand, 
 and with him I could not get it. I had some 
 idea of going in for farming when I landed. 
 I would get a farm near Elsie's father, and 
 stay there. But I found I hadn't sufficient 
 money, or anything like sufficient, to buy 
 land near Thomson Forks. So I looked 
 round, and, in looking round, spent money. 
 Finally, I got Harmer something to do in a 
 sawmill on Burrard's Inlet, a position which 
 give him sufficient to live on, but very little 
 more ; and yet he had not to work very hard, 
 in fact he tallied the lumber into the ships load- 
 ing in the Inlet for China and Australia, and 
 
110 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVBB. 
 
 wrote to me that he liked his job reasonably 
 well, though he was grieved to be away 
 from me. As for myself, I went up to 
 Thomson Forks, looked round me there, 
 and at the hotel fell in with a man named 
 Mackintosh, an American from Michigan, a 
 great strong fellow, with a long red beard, 
 and an eye like an Eagle's, who was going 
 up in the Big Bend gold-hunting, prospecting 
 as they call it. I told him, after we got 
 into conversation, that I wanted to go 
 farming^ 
 
 He snorted scornfully, and immediately 
 began to dilate on gold-mining and all the 
 chances a man had who possessed the grit to 
 tackle it. And as I knew I really had too 
 little money to farm with, it wasn't long be- 
 fore he persuaded me to be his partner and 
 go with him. For I liked him at once, and 
 was feeling so out in the cold that I was 
 glad to chum with anyone who looked like 
 knowing his way about. We were soon in 
 
IP 
 
 A OOLDB^ LINK. Ill 
 
 the thick of planning our campaign, and Mac 
 got very fluent and ornamental in his lan- 
 guage as he drank and talked. However, I 
 did not mind that much, although his blas- 
 phemy was British Columbian, and rather 
 worse than that in use on board ship. Yet 
 people do not think the sea a mean school of 
 cursing. Presently, as I turned round at the 
 bar, T saw Mr. Fleming, who did not notice 
 me until I spoke. 
 
 "Good-morning, Mr. Fleming," I said; 
 " wdll you drink with me ? " 
 
 He turned round sharply at the sound 
 of my voice, and then shook my hand, 
 haK doubtfully at first, and then more 
 heartily. 
 
 "Well, Ticehurst," he said at last, "I am 
 glad to see you, after all. Hang it, I am ! 
 for " (here he lowered his voice to a whisper) 
 " I don't care about the style of this place 
 after New South Wales. They nearly eli 
 carry revolvers here, damn it I as if they 
 
113 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 were police ; and la«t time I came in, my 
 man and another fellow fought, and Siwash 
 Jim (that's what they call him) tried to 
 gouge out the other chap's eyes. And when 
 I pulled him off, the other men gi'owled about 
 my spoiling a fight. What do you think of 
 that ? " 
 
 And the old man stared at me inquiringly, 
 and then laughed. . 
 
 " Wish I could ask you over to the Creek, 
 but I can't, and you know why. Take my 
 advice and go back to sea. Now, look here, 
 let's speak plain. I know you want Elsie ; 
 but it's a mistake, my boy. She didn't care 
 for you ; and I know her, she's just like her 
 mother, the obstinatest woman you ever saw 
 when she made up her mind. I wouldn't 
 mind much if she did care for you, though 
 perhaps you aint so rich as you ought to be, 
 Tom. But then my wife had more money 
 than I had by a long sight, so I don't care 
 for that. But seeing that Slsie doesn't want 
 
A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 113 
 
 you, what's the use? Take my advice and 
 go to sea again." 
 
 Here he stopped and gave me the first 
 chance of speaking I had had since I ac- 
 costed him. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Fleming," I said fii'mly ; 
 " but I can't go back yet. I rm glad you 
 have no great objection to me yourself, but 
 I believe that Elsie hasn't either, and I'm 
 bound to prove itj and I will." 
 
 " Well, you know best," he replied. " But 
 mind your eye, old boy, when your friend the 
 Malay comes out. I shouldn't like to be on 
 the same continent with him, if I were you." 
 
 " I don't like being either," I said. ** But 
 then it shows how fixed I am on one object. 
 And I shall not go, even if he were to find 
 out where I am. For I might have to kill 
 him. Yet I don see how he can find out. 
 Nobody knows or will know, except my 
 brother, and he won't tell h'*in." 
 
 Fleming shrugged his shoulders and 
 
114 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 1 1 
 
 1 
 
 1^ 
 
 dropped the subject to take up his own 
 affairs. 
 
 " Damn this country, my boy ! give me a 
 plain where I can see a few miles. On my 
 soul, this place chokes me ; I can't look out 
 five hundred yards for some thundering old 
 mountain ! At the Creek there are hills at 
 the back, at the front, and on both sides, and 
 nearly all are chokeful of trees, so that rid- 
 ing after the cattle is worse than going after 
 scrub cattle in Australia. I can't get the 
 hang of the place at all, and though I am 
 supposed to own nearly two hundred head of 
 cattle, I can't muster seventy-five on my own 
 place. Some are up at Spullamacheen, some 
 on the Nicola, and others over at the Kettle 
 River on the border, for all I know. And 
 the place is full of canons, as they call 
 gulches in this place; and thundering holes 
 they are, two hundred feet deep, with a 
 roaring stream at the bottom. The Black 
 Canon at the back of my place gives me the 
 
A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 118 
 
 shivers. I am like a horse bred on the 
 plains ; when it gets on the mountains it is 
 all abroad, and shivers at the sight of a 
 sharp slope. I reckon I can ride on the 
 flat^ old as I am, but here, if it wasn't for my 
 scoundrel Siwash Jim, who says he knows 
 the country like a book, I shouldn't know 
 where to go or what to do. Here he comes, 
 the vagabond ! " . 
 
 I had learnt by this time that Siwash 
 means Indian, for in that country they say 
 Siwashes instead of Indians, so I thought 
 Jim was one of the natives. However, I 
 saw at once be wasn't, for though he was 
 dark, his features were pure white. He had 
 earned his nickname by living with the 
 Indians for so many years that he was more 
 at home with them than with white people, 
 and he had acquired all their vices as well 
 as a goodly stock of his own, probably in- 
 herited. He was a slightly built man of 
 about forty, with a low forehead, a sharp 
 
116 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 aquiline nose, and no lips to speak of; his 
 mustaclie was short, and a mere line; Ms 
 teeth were black with smoking and chewing ; 
 his legs bowed with continual riding. He 
 wore mocassins, and kent his hair long. He 
 was more than half intoxicated when he 
 came in, carrying a stock-whip coiled round 
 his neck. He did not speak, but drank 
 stolidly; and when he looked at me, I 
 fancied it was with an air of dislike, aj 
 though he had read my thoughts and knew 
 how I regarded him, 
 
 I drew Fleming aside. 
 
 " I don't like him," said I ; " and wouldn't 
 tmst him farther than I could swing a bull 
 by the tail. Do the girls like him ? " 
 
 "Like him!" repeated Fleming, "they 
 hate him, and want me to give him the 
 bounce, as they say here. Elsie says he 
 looks like a murderer, and Fanny that he is 
 uglier than a Murrumbidgee black"" fellow. 
 But then he kuowa the country and does his 
 
A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 V7 
 
 work, and don't want to go. I don't care 
 much either way, for when I can get all the 
 cattle together and put the place in order I 
 shall sell out and go back. Stay in British 
 Columbia — no, sir, I won't ! not if they make 
 me Governor. I tell you I like to be where 
 I can see ten miles. Then I can breathe. I 
 can go out at home and see all my station 
 and almost count the sheep and cattle from 
 my door; and here I have to ride up and 
 ride down, and I never know where I am. 
 I'm going back just as soon as I can." 
 
 And he went away then without asking 
 where I was going or whether I was doing 
 anything. Next morning I jumped on board 
 the steamer with Mac and started for the 
 head of the Shushwap Lakes. Thence we 
 went into the Big Bend, and though we 
 never made the millions Mac was alwavs 
 prophesying about and hungering for, our 
 summer's work was not wasted. For before 
 the season was over we had struck a rich 
 
»m^M < •« n y.#». - . l .C.i. - - 
 
 118 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 pocket and made about four thousand dollars 
 a piece. 
 
 Of course I wanted to up stick and go 
 back as soon as I had as much as that, but 
 Mac would not hear of it. 
 
 *'No, Tom — ^no," said he; "there's more 
 here yet." 
 
 And he eyed me so entreatingly that I 
 caved in and promised to remain with him 
 prospecting, at any rate till the first snow. 
 
 But a week after making that agreement 
 we both went down to the Columbia for 
 more provisions. Finding none there, we had 
 to make the farther journey to the Landing. 
 There I found a letter waiting for me from 
 Harmer, saying that he was tired of the saw- 
 mill on the Inlet, and wanted to join me. I 
 wrote back requesting him to be good 
 enough to stay where he was, but, to console 
 him, promised that if I saw any chance of his 
 doing better with me I would send for him. 
 He asVed rather timidly for news of Fanny. 
 
A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 119 
 
 How could I give him news when I knew 
 nothing of Elsie ? Yet the simple mention 
 of the girl's name again made me anxious to 
 get back to the Forks, and if one of the 
 steamers had come up the lake I think I 
 should have deserted Mac in spite of my 
 promise. Yet we had only brought down 
 half the gold that trip, perhaps because my 
 partner had made a calculation as to what I 
 might do, having it on me, if we got within 
 reach of some kind of civilization, and I 
 thought it best to secure the rest while I 
 could, though I thoroughly trusted Mac. At 
 the same timo that I answered Harmer's 
 letter I wrote one to my brother, telling 
 him both what I had done and what I pro- 
 posed doing later on. And I begged him to 
 be careful, if he should be in San Francisco 
 then, of the Malay when his time was up. 
 For although his chief spite was against me, 
 yet Will was my brother, and I well remem- 
 bered the look that he had cast on him when 
 
120 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 he was kicked in the straggle between Will 
 and myself. 
 
 The rest of the summer — and a beautiful 
 season it was in the wooded mountains — ^was^ 
 spent in very unsuccessful prospecting. For 
 one thing, after our success Mac had taken to 
 prospecting for pockets; and if gold-mining 
 be like gambling as a general rule, that is 
 almost pure chance. Once or twice he was 
 in high spirits at good indications, but on 
 following them up we were invariably dis- 
 appointed, and we had to start again. 
 August and September passed, and the 
 higher summits above us were already white 
 with snow, which fell on us in the lower 
 valleys as rain. In October there was a 
 cessation of bad weather for a time, and Mac 
 promised himself a long fall season, but at 
 the end of it we woke one morning to find a 
 foot of snow on our very camping ground. 
 
 " We shall have to get up and get," said I 
 cheerfully, for I was glad of it. 
 
A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 121 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Mac ; " this is nothiog. 
 It will all go again by to-morrow ; there will 
 be nothing to stop us from another week or 
 two. Besides, yesterday I had a notion that 
 I saw something. I didn't tell you, but I 
 found another bit of quartz — aye, richer than 
 the piece I showed you at the Forks, Tom, 
 and weVe got to find out where it comes 
 from." 
 
 I groaned, but, in spite of argument, there 
 was no moving him; and though I was 
 angry enough to have gone off by myself, 
 yet knowing neither the trail nor the coun- 
 try well, I had no desire to get lost in the 
 mountains, which would most assuredly have 
 meant death to me. However, I still remon- 
 strated, and at last got him to fix ten days as 
 the very longest time he would remain: I 
 was obliged to be content with that. 
 
 But Mac was sorry before the hour ap- 
 pointed for our departure that he had not 
 taken my advice, " tenderfoot " and English- 
 
122 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 man though I was. On the evening of the 
 eighth day the temperature, which had up to 
 that time been fairly warm in spite of our 
 altitude and the advanced season, fell sud- 
 denly, and it became bitterly cold. Our 
 ponies, who had managed to pick up a fair 
 living on the plateau where our camp stood, 
 and along the creek bottoms, came right up 
 to our tent, and one of them put his head in- 
 side. " Dick," as we called him, was a much 
 gentler animal than most British Columbian 
 cayuses, and had made a friend of me, com- 
 ing once a day at least for me to give him a 
 piece of bread, of which he had grown fond, 
 though at first he was as stransje with it as a 
 young foal with oats. I put up my hand 
 and touched his nose, which was soft and 
 silky, while the rest o^* his coat was long and 
 rough. He whinnied gently, and I found a 
 crust for him, and then gently repulsing him, 
 I fastened the fly of the tent. Mac was fast 
 asleep under his dark blankets, whence there 
 
■^^ 
 
 MHHi^Bapani 
 
 k OOLDBN LINK. 
 
 123 
 
 came sudden snorts like those a bear makes 
 in his covert, or low rumblings like thunder 
 from a thick cloud. 
 
 But it was he who woke me in the 
 morning, and he did it without cere- 
 mony. 
 
 " Get up, old man ! " he said hurriedly, 
 while he was jamming himself, as it were, 
 into his garments. "The snow's come at 
 last — and, by thunder, it's come to stay I 
 There's no time to be lost!" And he 
 vanished into the white space outside. 
 
 When I followed I found him already at 
 work packing the ponies, and without any 
 words I set to, struck the tent, rolled it up, 
 and got together everything I thought 
 should go. When I touched the tools Mac 
 turned round. 
 
 ** Leave 'em, pard — ^leave 'em. There's 
 plenty of weight without that. Aye, 
 plenty — and too much I " 
 
 The last I only just caught, for it was sai(J 
 
124 
 
 THE MATS OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 to himself. In half an hour we were off, 
 leaving behind us nearly three weeks' 
 provisions, all the tools but two light 
 shovels, and what remained after our 
 working the quartz. 
 
 " It's worth a thousand dollars," said Mac, 
 regretfully, "but without a proper crusher 
 it's only tailings." 
 
 We moved off camp, Mac first, leading 
 the nameless pony, which was the stronger 
 of the two, and I following with Dick. 
 
 The snow was two feet deep in many 
 parts, and in some drifts much more than 
 that. Fortunately, the trail was for its 
 greater length well sheltered, both by 
 overhanging rocks and big trees, spruce, 
 cedar, hemlock, and pine, which helped to 
 keep it clear ; but it was evident to me by 
 the way the ponies traveled, and the labor 
 it was for me to get along with no other 
 burden than the shovel, from which I 
 sometimes used to free Dick, that another 
 
m&TT^ 
 
 vipp; 
 
 A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 125 
 
 fall of snow would make traveling almost 
 impossible. Mac walked on in somber 
 silence, reflecting doubtless that it was his 
 obstinacy which had brought us into 
 trouble, a thing I confess I was not so 
 forgiving as to forget, though merciful 
 enough not to remind him of it. It had 
 taken us three days to come up from the 
 Columbia, and it seemed barely possible 
 under the circumstances to retrace our steps 
 in the same time, even although the horses 
 were not so much burdened and there was 
 not so much hard climbing to be done. But 
 I could see Mac was bent on getting out, and 
 he traveled without more rest than we were 
 absolutely compelled to take on account of 
 the animals. As for myself, I confess that 
 though I had traveled that same trail twice, 
 yet so greatly was it altered by the snow 
 that I should have lost my way in the 
 first mile. For mountaineering and the 
 knowledge of locality are things not to be 
 
186 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 leartit in a hurry, they must come by long 
 custom, or by native instinct. 
 
 Sorrowfully — for I am always loth to 
 harm even a noxious animal, as long as it 
 leaves me alone — I suggested ^'^ Mac that we 
 should leave the horses. He shook his head. 
 
 " Who'll carry the provisions, then ? " 
 said he. 
 
 " Do you think we can get to the Landing, 
 Mac ? " I asked. 
 
 " We shall be lucky," he answered, with a 
 significant nod, " if we get to the other side of 
 the Columbia. Tom, I think I have let you 
 In for a winter up here, unless you care about 
 snow-shoeing it over the other pass. I was a 
 fool' — say yes to that if you like." 
 
 It was late when we camped, but my 
 partner was in better spirits than he had been 
 at noon when we held the above conversa* 
 tion, for we had done, by dint of forced 
 marching, quite as much as we did in fine 
 Weathet* But the ponies were very tired. 
 
WW 
 
 A aOLDEN LINK. 
 
 137 
 
 and there was nothing for them to eat, or 
 next to nothing, for the grass was deeply 
 buried. I gave Dick a little bread, however, 
 and the poor animal was grateful for it, and 
 stood by me all night, until, at the earliest 
 dawn, we pacJiad them again with a load that 
 was lighter by the day's food of two men, 
 and heavier to them by a day's hard toil and 
 starvation. 
 
 Toward the afternoon of that, the second 
 day, we came to the hardest part of the whole 
 trail, for, on crossing a river which was freez- 
 ing cold, we had to climb the side of an 
 opposing mountain. Mac's pony traveled 
 well, and though he showed evident signs of 
 fatigue, he was in much better case than 
 mine, who every now and again staggered, or 
 sobbed audibly with a long-drawn breath. I 
 drew Mac's attention to it, but he shook his 
 head. 
 
 " He must go on, there's no two ways about 
 it" And he marched oiL I went behind 
 
! I 
 
 1^ 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVBB. 
 
 Dick and pushed him for a while, and though 
 I tired myself, yet I am not sony for what I 
 did, even that little assistance was such a 
 relief to the poor wretched animal who, from 
 the time he was able to bear a weight, had 
 been used by a packer without rest or peace, 
 as though he were a machine, and whose only 
 hope of release was to die, starved, wounded, 
 saddle and girth galled, of slow starvation at 
 last. Such is the lot of the pack horse, and, 
 though poor Dick's end was more merciful, 
 his fellows have no better fate to expect, 
 while their life is a perpetual round of ill- 
 usage and hard work. 
 
 By about four o'clock in the afternoon the 
 sky grew overcast, and the light feathery 
 flakes of snow came at first slowly, and then 
 faster, turning what blue distances we caught 
 sight of to a gray, finally hiding them. Dick 
 by this time was almost at a standstill. I 
 never thought I was a very tender-hearted 
 man, and never set up to h<> ; indeed, if he 
 
A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 129 
 
 had been only stubborn, I might have 
 thrashed him in a way some folks would 
 call cruel ; and yet, being compelled to urge 
 him, both for his sake and my own, I con- 
 fess my heart bled to see his suffering and 
 wretchedness. Having scarcely the strength 
 to lift his feet properly, he had struck his 
 fetlocks against many projecting stones and 
 roots until the blood ran down and congealed 
 on his little hoofs, which were growing 
 tender, as 1 could see by the way he winced 
 on a rockier piece of the trail than common. 
 His rough coat was standing up and 
 staring like that of a broken-haired terrier, 
 in spite of the sweat which ran down his 
 thin sides and heaving %nks ; while every 
 now and again he stumbled, and with diffi- 
 culty recovered himself. 
 
 When we came to the divide, just as if 
 he had said that he would do so nmch for 
 Uis, he stumbled again, and fell on the le^rel 
 ground, cutting his knees deeply. Mac heard 
 
 y^^l 
 
 
f X 
 
 130 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 the ixoisey and, leaving his pony standing, he 
 came back to me. 
 
 "He's done up, poor devil!" said he; 
 " he'll go no further. What shall we do ? " 
 
 I shook my head, for it was not I who 
 arranged or ordered things when Mac was 
 about. He was silent for a while. 
 
 "There's nothing for it," he said at last, 
 "but one thing. We must put all the other 
 kieutan can stand on him." 
 
 By this time I had got the pack off Dick, 
 and he lay down perfectly flat upon his side, 
 with the blood slowly oozing from his knees, 
 and his flanks still heaving from the exer- 
 tions which had brought him up the hill to 
 die on the top of it. 
 
 " Come on," said Mac, as he moved off with 
 what he meant to put on the other pony. 
 
 But at first I could not go. I put my hand 
 in my pocket, took out a piece of bread, anil, 
 kneeling down by the poor animal, I put it to 
 his lips. He mumbled it with his teeth and 
 
A GOLDEK LINK. 
 
 131 
 
 dropped it out. Then in my hat I got 8om6 
 water out of a little pool and offered it to 
 him. He drank some and then fell back 
 again. I took my revolver from my belt, 
 stroked his soft nose once more, and, putting 
 the weapon to his head between his eye and 
 ear, I fired. He shivered all over, stiffened a 
 little, and all was still except for the slow 
 drip of the blood that ran out of his ea^ from 
 a vein the ball had divided. Then I went 
 on— and I hope no one will think me weak 
 if I confess my s?ght wbb not quite so clear 
 ^ it had been before, and if there was a 
 6t*'.*?'ige haziness about the cruelly cold trail 
 and mountain side th*t did ncfc come from 
 the falling snow. 
 
 At our camp that night we spoke little 
 more than was absolutely necessary, and 
 tui'ned in as Soon as we had eaten supper, 
 drunk a tin of coffee, and smoked a couple of 
 pipes. Fortunately for the remaining horse, 
 in the place we had reached there was a little 
 
 IN 
 
 fi 
 
■ PS 
 
 132 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANOOUVER. 
 
 feed, a few tussocks of withering frost-nipped 
 bunch grass, which he ate greedily to the last 
 roots his sharp teeth could reach. And then 
 he pawed or "r^Ptled" for more, using his 
 hoof to bare whi« :m hidden under the 
 snow. But for that we should have left him 
 on the trail next morning. 
 
 The toil and suffering of the third day's 
 march were dreadful, for I grew footsore, and 
 my feet bled at the heels, while the skin rose 
 in blisters on every toe, which rapidly be- 
 came raw. But Mac was a man of iron, and 
 never faltered or grew tired; and his ex- 
 ample, and a feeling of shame at being out- 
 done by another, kept me doggedly behind 
 him at a few paces' distance. How the pony 
 stood that day was a miracle, for he must 
 have been made of iron and not flesh and 
 blood to carry his pack, while climbing up 
 and sliding down the steep ascents and slopes 
 of the hills, whne every few yards some 
 wind-felled tree had to be cl?«nbered ov^r 
 
pmpiPip^^ 
 
 1^ 
 
 pwp 
 
 A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 133 
 
 almost as a dog would do it. He was always 
 clammy with sweat, but he seemed in better 
 condition than on the second day, perhaps on 
 account of the grass he had been able to get 
 during the night. Yet he had had to work 
 all night to get it, while I and Mac had slept 
 in the torpor of great exhaustion. 
 
 Late in the evening we came to the banks 
 of the Columbia, across which stretched sandy 
 flats and belts of scrub, until the level ended, 
 and lofty mountains rose once more, covered 
 with snow and fringed with sullen clouds, 
 thousands of feet above where we stood. 
 Mac stopped, and looked anxiously across the 
 broad stream ; and when he saw a faint curl 
 of bluish smoke rising a mile away in the 
 sunless air, he pointed to it with a more 
 pleased expression that I had seen on his face 
 since he had roused me so hurriedly on that 
 snowy morning three days ago. 
 
 "There is somebody over there, at any 
 rate, old man," he said almost cheerfully^ 
 
134 
 
 THJJ MATB OF THE VAlTOOUVEIk. 
 
 ''thougli I don't know what the thunder 
 they're doing here, unless jt/g Montana Bill 
 come up trapping. He said he was going to 
 do it, but if so, what's he doing down here 2 " 
 
 <* Can't he trap here, then ? " I asked. 
 
 ** Well," replied Mac, " this might be the 
 end of his line; but still, he ought to be 
 farther up in the hills. There isn't much 
 to trap close down on this flat. You see 
 trappers usually have two camps, and they 
 walk the line during the day, and take out 
 what is caught in the night, setting the 
 traps again, and sleeping first at one end and 
 then at the other. However, we shall see 
 when we get across." And he set about 
 lighting a fire. 
 
 When we had crossed before there had 
 been a rough kind of boat built out of pine 
 slabs, which was as crazy a craft to go in as 
 a butter-tub. It had been made by some 
 hunters the winter before, and left there 
 when they went west in the early spring, 
 
WW 
 
 • H,'!" I ",' •." 
 
 A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 185 
 
 before we came up. I asked Mac what had 
 become of it, for it was not wb^re we bad 
 left it, hauled up a little way on a piece of 
 sbingle and tied to a stump. 
 
 "Somebody took it," be said, "or more 
 likely, wben tbe water rose after we crossed, 
 it was carried away. Perhaps it's in tbe 
 Pacific by this." 
 
 I went down to the stump, and found 
 there the remains of the painter, and as it 
 had been broken violently and not cut, I 
 saw that his last suggestion was probably 
 correct. 
 
 "We sat down to supper by our fire, which 
 gleamed brightly in the gathering darkness 
 on the surrounding snow and the waters 
 close beneath us, and ate some very vile 
 bacon and a greasy mess of beans which we 
 had cooked the night before we left our 
 mountain camp. 
 
 " How are we going to cross, Mac ? " said 
 I, when we had lighted our pipes. 
 
"TTfi" 
 
 / * ■T»,srr*'!,'- ■ '■■'w.'M'M *■■■*»" V * 
 
 136 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 "Build a raft," said he, 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " When we are over ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Why, stay there, I guess, if it snows any 
 more. One more fall of heavy snow wiU 
 block Eagle Pass as sure as fire's hot ! " 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. Though I had 
 been expecting this, it was not pleasant to 
 have the prospect of spending a whole winter 
 mewed up in the mountains, so close before 
 me. 
 
 " Does it get very cold here ? " I asked at 
 length, when I had reflected for a while. 
 
 He nodded sardonically. 
 
 " Doed it get cold ? Is it cold now ? " 
 
 I drew closer to the fire for an answer. 
 
 " Then this is nothin' — ^nothin' at all. It 
 would freeze the tail off a brass monkey up 
 here. It goes more than forty below zero 
 often and often ; audit's a worse kind of cold 
 than the cold back east, for it's damper here, 
 
 m 
 
 ii 
 
p^p^mipp^p^w 
 
 "fm^ 
 
 mn^mm^f^fmw 
 
 «IH 
 
 A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 137 
 
 and not so steady. Bah! I wish I was a 
 bear, so as to hole up till spring." 
 
 All of which jWas very encouraging to a 
 man who had mostly sailed in warm latitudes, 
 and hated a frost woi'se than poison. And 
 it didn't please me to see that so good-tem- 
 pered a man as Mac was really put out and 
 in a vile humor, for he knew what I could 
 only imagine. 
 
 The couTT-ersation — if conversation it could 
 be called — ^flagged very soon, and we got out 
 our blankets, scraping away the snow from 
 a place, where we lay close to each other in 
 order to preserve what warmth we could. 
 We lay in the position commonly called in 
 America " spooning," like two spoons fitting 
 one into another, so that there had to be 
 common consent for changing sides, one of 
 which grew damp while the other grew cold. 
 Just as we were settling down to sleep we 
 heard the sudden crack of a rifle from the 
 other shore, and against the wind came a 
 
188 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 " halloa '' across the water, Mac sat up very 
 unconcernedly ; but, as for me, I jumped as 
 if I had been shot, thinking of course at first 
 that the shot had been fired by Indians, 
 though I knew there were no hostile tribes 
 in that part of British Columbia, where, in- 
 deed, most of the Indians are very peace- 
 able. 
 
 "I told you so," said Mac; "that's Mon- 
 tana BilFs rifle. I sold it him myself. He's 
 the only man up here that carries a Sharp." 
 
 He rose, and went down to the water's 
 edge. " Halloa 1" he shouted, in his turn^ 
 and in the quietness of the windless air I 
 heard it faintly repeated in distant echoes. 
 
 " Is that you, Mac ? " said the mysterious 
 voice. 
 
 " You bet it is ! " answered my partner, 
 in a tone that ought to have been heard on 
 the Arrow Lake. 
 
 " Bully old boy ! " said Bill faintly, as it 
 seemed. " Do you know me ? " 
 
 
F^ 
 
 ^JW»l|ppi( 
 
 
 A OOLDBN LINK. 
 
 139 
 
 "Aye, I reckon I know old Montana's 
 bellow ! " roared Mac. 
 
 " Then I'll see you in the morning, pard ! " 
 came the voice again, after which there was 
 silence, broken only by the faint lap of the 
 water on the shingle, as it slipped past, and 
 the snoiii of our pony as he blew the snow 
 out of his nostrils, vainly seeking for a tuft 
 of grass. 
 
 We rose at earliest dawn, and saw Mon- 
 tana Bill slowly coming over the level. He 
 sat down while Mac and I built a raft, and 
 fashioned a couple of rude paddles with the 
 ax. 
 
 "Is the pony coming across, Mac?" I 
 asked. 
 
 " We'll try it, but it's his own lookout," 
 said he ; "if he won't come easy we shan't 
 drag him, for we shall hev to paddle to do it 
 ourselves." 
 
 Fortunately for him he did want to go 
 over, and, having a long lariat round his neck, 
 
 ;s:jmtmmm 
 
140 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 he actually swam in front of us, and gave us 
 a tow instead of our giving bim one. 
 
 As we were goiog over, Mac said to me : 
 
 " I never thought I'd be glad to see Mon- 
 tana Bill before. He's got more gas and 
 blow about him than'd set up a town, and 
 he's no more good at bottom — that is, he 
 aint no more grit in him than a clay bank, 
 though to hear him talk you'd think he'd 
 mor'n a forty-two inch grindstone. But I 
 hope he's got a good stock of grub." 
 
 In a few minutes we touched bottom, and 
 we shook hands with the subject of Mac's 
 eulogium, who looked as bold as brass, as 
 fierce as a turkeycock, and had the voice of 
 a man-o'-war's bo'son. We took the lariat 
 off the pony, and turned him adrift. 
 
 " Did you fellows strike it ? " said Bill, the 
 first thing. 
 
 " Enough to pay for our winter's board, I 
 reckon,'-' said Mac. "Have you got plenty 
 of grub?" 
 
A GOLDEN LINK. 
 
 141 
 
 Bill nodded, using the common American 
 word for yes, which is a kind of cross-breed 
 between "yea" and the German "Ja^" pro- 
 nounced shoi-t like " ye." 
 
 "You bet IVe plenty. Old Hank kem 
 up with me, and then he cleared out again. 
 He and I kind of disagreed firs ! thing, and 
 he just skinned out. Good thing too — for 
 him ! " 
 
 And Bill looked unutterable things. 
 
 " Is there any chance of getting out over 
 the pass ? " asked Mac. 
 
 " If you can fly," answered Bill. " Drifts 
 is forty foot deep in parts, and soft too. I 
 could hardly get on snow-shoein' it. Better 
 stay and trap with me. Better'n gold- 
 huntn' any time, and more dollars in it." 
 
 " Why aint you farther up in the hills ? " 
 asked Mac, as we tramped along. 
 
 "Dunno," said Bill; "I allers camp here 
 every year. It's kind of clear, and there's a 
 chance for the cayuses to pick a bit to keep 
 
 Mi 
 
 mmm 
 
.,.:ii,i!i.T-.AJ.'t.i gg5^ 
 
 142 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOtTVEft. 
 
 bones and hide together. Besides, I fael 
 more freer down here. I see more than 'ull 
 do me of the hills walking the line." 
 And with that we came to his f*amp. 
 Now, if I tell all that happened during 
 thac winter, which was, all round, the most 
 uncoi-ifortable and most unh«,ppy one I ever 
 spent, for I had so much time to think of 
 Elsie, and how some other nan more to her 
 mind might go to windward of me in court- 
 ing her — why, I should not ^vrite one book^ 
 but two, which is not my intention now. 
 Besides, I have been long enough coming to 
 the most serious part of my history to tii* 
 other people, as it has tired me; although 
 I could not exactly help it, because all, or at 
 least nearly all, that happened between the 
 time I was on the Va^n^ouver and the time we 
 all met again seems important to me, especially 
 as it might have gone veiy diit'erently if I had 
 never been gold-hunting in the Selkirks, or 
 even if I had got out of the mountains in the 
 
 nntm 
 
 mmm 
 
ifmm 
 
 mmm 
 
 [ipp 
 
 mmm 
 
 A GOLj^EN link. 
 
 143 
 
 fall instead of the following spring. For 
 things seem linked together in life, and, in 
 writing, one n^ust put everything in unless 
 more particular description becomes tedious, 
 because of its interfering with the story. 
 And though trapping is interesting enough, 
 yet I am not writing here about that or hunt- 
 ing, which is more interesting still ; and when 
 a man tells me a yam he says is about a cer- 
 tain thing, I don't want him to break off in 
 the middle to say something quite different, 
 any more than I like a man to get up in 
 the middle of a job of work, such as a long 
 splice which is wanted, to do something he 
 wasn't ordered to do. It's on^y a way of 
 doing a literary Tom Cox's t; averse, " three 
 times round the deck house, and once to 
 the scuttlf -butt " — ^just putting in time, or 
 making what a literary friend of mine calls 
 " padding." 
 
 So folks who read this can understand 
 why I shall say no ohing of this long and 
 
 MHMM 
 
 .Aiti. 
 
144 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 weary winter, and, if they prefer it, they can 
 think that we " holed up," as Mac said, like 
 the bears, and slept through it all. For in 
 the next part of th^'s yarn it wiU be spring, 
 with the snow melting fast, and the trail be- 
 ginning to look like a path again that even a 
 sailor, who was not a mountaineer, could 
 hope to travel on without losing his life, or 
 even his way. 
 
 n 
 
 I .fc ! 
 
f^^rwvfr"^""^'^ 
 
 mmi^^m^i^^ifl^m^mK^l^mm 
 
 ^■«IP^I«l"«"WI«< 
 
 ^f^mmmmmmmiymtmmmitlli^ 
 
 Paft IV. 
 
 LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 It had been raining for a week in an inces- 
 sant torrent, while the heavy clouds hung 
 low down the slopes of the sullen,- sunless 
 mountains, when we struck camp in the 
 spring-time, and loaded oui ^auut pack- 
 ponies for the rapidly opening trail. Our 
 road lay for some twenty miles on the 
 bottom of a flat, which closed in more and 
 more as we went east, until we were in the 
 heart of the Gold Kange. The path was 
 liquid mud, in which we sank to the tops of 
 our long boots, sometimes even le iving them 
 embedded there ; and the ponies were nearly 
 " sloughed down " a dozen times in the day. , 
 At the worst places we were sometimes com- 
 pelled to take off their packs, which we 
 
 146 
 
fiT'-^.\ 
 
 146 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 carried piecemeal to firmer ground, and there 
 loaded them again. It had taken us but 
 four or four and a haK days to cross it on 
 our last trip, and now we barely reached 
 Summit Lake in the same time. 
 
 Yet, in spite of the miserable weather and 
 our dank and dripping condition, in spite of 
 the hard work and harder idleness, when 
 wind and rain made it almost impossible to 
 sleep, I was happy — far happier than I had 
 been since the time I had so miserably failed 
 to make Elsie believe what I told her ; for 
 now I was going back to her with the results 
 of my long toil, and there was nothing to 
 prevent my staying near her, perhaps on a 
 farm of my own, until she should recognize 
 her error at last. Yet, I thought it well to 
 waste no time, for though I had to a 
 great extent got rid of my fears concerning 
 that wretched Matthias, still his imprison- 
 ment had but a few more months to run, and 
 Jie might keep his word and his sworn oath. 
 
Wp»^*t-J*V-W,J|iw"sw,Ji,i|iijj!i!ijiiii^.»(Pl^pi|^^ 
 
 mifiimmmmmmmmmmm 
 
 tOVB AND HATB. 
 
 147 
 
 I wished to win her and wear her before that 
 time, and after that, why, I did not care, I 
 would do my best, and trust in Providence, 
 even if I trusted in vain. 
 
 I have often thought since that it was 
 strange how much John Harmer was in my 
 mind, from daylight even to dark, during the 
 sixth day of our toilsome tramp over Eagle 
 Pass, for his image often unaccountably came 
 before me, and even dispossessed the fair face 
 of her whom I loved. But it was so, and 
 no time during that day should I have been 
 very much suiprised, though perhaps a little 
 angry, to see him come round a bend in the 
 trail, saying half humbly and half im* 
 pudently, as he approached me, "How do 
 you do, Mr, Ticehurst ? " I almost began to 
 believe after that day in secoL^d sight, clair- 
 voyance, and all the other mysterious things 
 which most sensible people look upon as 
 they do on charlatanry and the juggling in a 
 fair, for my presentiments came true in such 
 
 m 
 
 mmtm 
 
 ■"- '"'^ 
 
148 
 
 THE HATE OP THE VANOOUVBB. 
 
 a strange way ; even if it was only an accident 
 or mere coincidence after all. Yet I have 
 seen many things put down as "coinci- 
 dences " which puzzled me, and wiser people 
 than Tom Ticehurst. 
 
 We had camped in a wretchedly miserable 
 spot, which had nothing to recommend it 
 beyond the fact that there really was some 
 grass there; for the wall of rock on our 
 right, which both Mac and Bill considered a 
 protection from the wind, acted as break- 
 winds often do, and gave us two gales in 
 opposite directions, instead of one. So the 
 wind, instead of sweeping over us and going 
 on its way,' fought and contended over our 
 heads, and only ceased for a moment to rush 
 skrieking again about our ears as it leapt on 
 the fire and sent the embers here and there, 
 while the rain descended at every possible 
 angle. Perhaps it was on accouat of the 
 fizzing of the water in the fire, the rattle 
 of the branches overhead, and the whistling 
 
W*«!Pli*UJJ 
 
 "P"wwpp 
 
 ^"^ 
 
 ^^^iwwi^ppipppii 
 
 v^^ 
 
 LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 149 
 
 of the wind, that we heard no one approach- 
 ing our grumbling company until they were 
 right upon us. I was just then half a dozen 
 paces out in the darkness, cutting up some 
 wood for our fire, and as the strangers 
 approached the light, I let fall my ax so 
 that it naiTowly escaped cutting off my big 
 toe, for one of the two I saw was a boy, 
 and that boy John Harmer ! I slouched my 
 big hat down over my eyes, and with some 
 wood in my arms I approached the group . 
 and replenished the fire. John was talking 
 with quite a Western twang,, as though 
 he was determined not to be taken for an 
 Englishman. 
 
 "Kain!" he was saying; "well, you bet 
 it's something like it ! On the lake it takes 
 an old hand to know which is land and 
 which is water. Old Hank was nearly 
 drowned in his tent the other day." 
 
 " Serve him right I " growled Bill. " But 
 who are you, young feller ? — I never see you 
 
 iiiiiii 
 
 MM 
 
 <r • 
 
 Hill 
 
150 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 i y 
 
 ?r' 
 
 before, and I mostly know everybody in tliis 
 country." 
 
 Harjaer looked up coolly, and taking off 
 his hat, swung it round. 
 
 " Well," lie answered, " I aint what you'd 
 call celebrated in B. 0. yet, and so you 
 mightn't have heard of me. But if you 
 know everybody, perhaps you know Tom 
 Ticehurst and can tell me where he is to 
 be found. For I am looking for him." 
 
 "Oh, you are, are you?" said Bill. 
 " Then what's he been doing that yoii want 
 him so bad as to come across in this trail this 
 Weather?" 
 
 "He hasn't been doing anything that I 
 
 know, pard," said Jack; "but I know he 
 
 was up here with a man named Mackin- 
 tosL" 
 
 "Ah I I know him," replied BiD, « in fact, 
 I've seen him lately. Is Tom Ticehurst a 
 little chap with red hair and a squint ? " 
 
 • No, he isn't ! " shouted Jack, as if he had 
 
 S< ' •- 
 
fifff|Pj!W!PW«»P'!P»^'^"PI^li^^^''"!^^^"P"""'"'""'"^^'"*"!^!"""<"*»^ 
 
 mmmmmimmi'tmHimm 
 
 LOVB AND HATE. 
 
 161 
 
 been libeled instead of me. " He's a good 
 looking fellow, big enough to eat you." 
 
 " Oh, is he ? " sneered the joker. " I tell 
 you what, young feller, it would take a big 
 man to chew up Montana Bill's little finger." 
 
 Harmer burst out laughing. 
 
 " So you're Montana Bill, are you ? " said 
 he. 
 
 " I am," answered Bill as gravely as if it 
 were a kingly title. 
 
 " Well, then, old Hank said he could eat 
 you up without pepper or salt. He's aa mad 
 at you as a man can be; says he's been 
 practicing shooting all the winter on purpose 
 to do you up, and he puts a new edge on his 
 knife every morning." 
 
 "That'll do, young feller," put in Mac, 
 seeing that Bill was getting in a rage, and 
 knowing that he was just the man to have 
 a row with a youngster. " You're a little 
 too fast, you are. My name's Mackintosh, if 
 you want anyone of that name." 
 
!FVi,!y,J'i!.lJ!i"4, . .iM.\ 
 
 •iW"T'vv>'.":f "wvyt^-.w, 1^ ■ '<•' '■■w■^ ■•f«vL',"vv' "''.vv-"--""? 
 
 163 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 I' 
 
 " Do I want you ! " cried Harmer anxiously ; 
 "of course I do I Do you know where 
 Ticeliurst is ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Mac; while I stood close 
 beside Harmer looking down at the fire so 
 that he couldn't see my face — I was laugh- 
 ing so. 
 
 "Then where is he? Hang it! has any- 
 thing happened to him that you fellows make 
 such a mystery about it ? " he asked getting a 
 little alarmed, as I could tell by the tone of 
 his voice. 
 
 " Well," replied Mac quietly, " I'll tell you. 
 He was up in the hills with me, and we 
 struck it rich — ^got a lot of gold, we did, you 
 bet we did," he went on in an initating 
 drawl ; " and then came down when the snow 
 flew. We had such a time getting out, young 
 feller, and then at last we came to the Col- 
 umbia and there " 
 
 " He was drowned ? " said Harmer growing 
 pale. 
 
Hiliiil 
 
 LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 153 
 
 "No, lie warn't," replied Mac. "We got 
 across all right, and stayed all winter trapping 
 with Bill here. And let me tell you, young 
 man, you mustn't trifle with Bill. He's a 
 snorter, he is." 
 
 I could see " Damn Bill ! " almost on Jack's 
 lips, but he restrained it. 
 
 " And when the Chinook came up, and the 
 snow began to melt a few days back, we all 
 got ready to cross the range — ^him, and Bill, 
 and me. That's six days ago. And a better 
 fellow than him you never struck, no, nor 
 will. What do you think, pard ? " he asked 
 with a grin, turning to me. 
 
 I grunted. 
 
 " And, young feller," Mac went on again, 
 " if he's a pardner of yours, or a shipmate — 
 for I can see you're an Englishman — why, I'm 
 glad he's here and safe." 
 
 Then suddenly altering his tone, he turned 
 fiercely on Harmer, who jumped back in 
 alarm. 
 
 
 lii^MJUiii^i 
 
 gygl 
 
 riHHI** 
 
 |gg|_ 
 
 mt^Mm 
 
'.■.v.'v;tj,.'v^,ff>ii„ iinUiW 
 
 154 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 . " Why the thunder don't you shake 
 hands with him ? There he is a-waitin'." 
 
 And John sprang across the fire and caught 
 me by both hands. 
 
 "Confound it, Mr. Ticehurst, how very 
 unkind of you I " he said, with tears in his 
 eyes. "I began to think you were dead." 
 And he looked unutterably relieved and 
 happy, but bursting with some news, I could 
 see. 
 
 "Wait till supper, Jack," said I; "and 
 then tell me. But I'm glad to see 
 you." 
 
 I was too, in spite of his leaving the Inlet 
 without asking me. 
 
 As to the man with whom he came, Mon- 
 tana Bill knew him, and they spent their 
 time in bullying the absent Hank Patterscn. 
 It appeared that Harmer had hired him to 
 come and hunt for me as far as the Columbia 
 River, in order to bury me decently, as he 
 had been firmly convinced that I was dead, 
 
LOVE AND HAT J). 
 
 155 
 
 when he learnt no newd of me at the 
 Landing. 
 
 The whole five of us sat down to beans 
 and bacon ; but I and Harmer ate vei*y little 
 because he wanted to tell me something 
 which I was strangely loth to hear, so sure 
 was I that it could be nothing good. It 
 certainly must be bad news to bring even an 
 impulsive youngster from the coast to the 
 Columbia in such weather. 
 
 "Well, what is it, Harmer?" said I at 
 last. 
 
 He hesitated a moment. 
 
 "Is it anything about her?" I asked 
 quietly, lest the others should overhear. 
 
 " Who ? Miss F. ? " he asked. I nodded, 
 and he shook his head. 
 
 " It's no such luck," he went on * " but I 
 am so doubtful of what I have to tell you, 
 although a few hours ago I was sure enough 
 that I didn't know how to begin. When 
 will Mat'B sentence be up, Mr. Ticehorst? " 
 
««,r,.*^A. 
 
 ■J^-'tf..iii III ■'■ «: Mail' -w»^iimi>iiIi«wi'i -I... iifi«». ' 1 1 1 1 ^ 1 l ijrai jyaggwwiWiWifW' 
 
 156 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 I had no need to reckon. 
 
 "The 15th of August, Jack." 
 
 He looked at me, and then bent over 
 toward me. 
 
 " It's up already, sir." 
 
 « What, is he dead, then ? " 
 
 " No, sir, but he has escaped." 
 
 And he filled his pipe ^vhile I gatliered 
 myself together. It was dreadfully un- 
 fortunate if it were true. 
 
 "How do you know this?" I said at 
 lengtL 
 
 "I saw him in New Westminster one 
 night." 
 
 "The deuce you did! Harmerj ai-e you 
 siu-e ? " 
 
 The lad looked uncomfortable, and wriggled 
 about on his seat, which was the old stump 
 ol a tree felled by some former occupants of 
 OTtr camping ground. 
 
 " I should have been perfectly sure, if I 
 hadn't thought he was in the penitentiary/' 
 
 m-^t 
 
 
 ■Hiiijgiai±±ji^ssa±ja^^ 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 157 
 
 he said finally ; " but still, I don't think I 
 con have mistaken his face, even though I 
 only caught sight of it just for a moment 
 down in the Indian town. I was sitting in 
 a cabin with two other fellows aiid some 
 klootchmen, and I saw him pass. There was 
 not much light, and he was going quick, but 
 I jumped up and rushed out after him. But 
 in the rain and darkness he got away, if he 
 thought anyone was following him; or I 
 missed him." 
 
 "I'm glad you did, my boy; he would 
 have thought little of putting his knife into 
 you,' and here I rubbed my own shoulder 
 mechanically. " Besides, if he had seen you, 
 that would have helped him to track me. 
 But then, how in the name of thunder (as 
 Mac says) did he come here at all I It can't 
 be chance. Did you look up the San Fran- 
 cisco papers to see if anything was reported 
 as to his escape ? " 
 
 Harmer brightened as if glad to answer 
 
jMUjaijiMMnirrnnm 
 
 158 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 tliat he had done what I considered he ought 
 to have done. 
 
 "Yes, sir, I did; but I found nothing 
 about it, nothing at jill." 
 
 I reflected a little, and saw nothing clearly, 
 after all, but the imperative necessity of my 
 getting down to the Forks. If Mat were 
 loose, why, I should have to be very careful, 
 it was true ; but perhaps he might be re- 
 taken, though I did not know if a man could 
 be extradited for simply breaking prison. 
 And if he came up country, and couldn't 
 find me, he might take it into his Oriental 
 skull to harm anyone I knew. The thought 
 made me shiver, 
 
 "Did you stay at Thomson Forks, 
 Harmer ? " I asked, to try and turn the dark 
 current of my thoughts. 
 
 He blushed a little. 
 
 " Yes,' sir, but only a day. I saw no one, 
 thodgh." 
 
 " What; not even Fanny ? " 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 150 
 
 '• No, but I wrote to her and told her I 
 was going up the Lakes to see what had be- 
 come of you." 
 
 " That was kind of you, Jack," said I ; " I 
 mean it was kind of you to come up here. 
 How do you like the country, eh ? " 
 
 He turned round comically, shrugged his 
 shoulders, and said nothing. I could see 
 that early spring in the mountains did not 
 please him, especially as we were in the Wet 
 Belt 
 
 But if he did not like the country, I found 
 he could stand it well, for he was as hardy 
 as a pack pony, and never complained, not 
 though we were delayed a whole day by the 
 rain, and on our return to the Landing had 
 to go to Thomson Forks in Indian dugouts. 
 When we did arrive there it was fine at last, 
 and the sun was shining brilliantly. 
 
 Mac, Harmer, and I were greeted in the 
 friendliest manner at the hotel by Dave, the 
 bar-tender, who was resplendent with a white 
 
 ) if 
 
 ! I 
 
160 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 • f:> 
 
 sliirt of the very finest get up, and diamond 
 studs. He stood us drinks at once. 
 
 "You're welcome to it, gentlemen, and 
 more too. For we did tliink down here that 
 you had been lost in the snow. We nevei 
 expected to hear of you again. I think a 
 young lady round here must have an interest 
 in you, Mr. Ticehurat," said he knowingly, 
 " for only two days ago she called me out 
 and asked more than pai'ticulai'ly about you. 
 When I told her nobody knew enough to 
 make a line in ^ Local Items,' unless they 
 said, ' Nothing has yet been heard,' I reckon 
 she was sorry." 
 
 " Who was it, Dave ? " I asked carelessly 
 "Was it Miss Fanny Fleming? " 
 
 " No, sir, it was not ; it was Miss Fleming 
 herself, and I must say she's a daisy. The 
 best looking girl between the Rocky Moun- 
 tains and the Pacific, gentlemen I Miss 
 Faimy is nice—a pretty girl I will say; 
 but ^ He stopped and winked, so that I 
 
LOVB AND HATE. 
 
 161 
 
 could hardly keep from throwing my glass at 
 his carefully combed and oiled head. But I 
 was happy to think that Elsie had asked 
 after me. 
 
 In the morning we got horses fi'om Ned 
 Conlan, and rode over to Mr. Fleming's ranch, 
 which was situated in a long low valley, 
 that tenninated a mile above his house in a 
 narrow gulch, down which the creek came. 
 On either side were high hills, covered on 
 their lower slopes with bunch grass and bull 
 pines, and higher up with thick scrub, that 
 ran at last into bare rock, on the topmost 
 peaks of which snow lay for nine months of 
 the year. As we approached the farm, we 
 saw a few of the cattle on the opposing 
 slopes ; and on the near side of the valley 
 were the farm-buildings and the house itself, 
 which was partly hidden in trees. We tied 
 our horses to the fence, and marched in, as we 
 fancied, as bold as brass in appearance ; but 
 if Harmer felt half as uncomfortable as I did, 
 
163 
 
 THE MATS OP THrK VANCOUVEB. 
 
 which I doubt, I am sony for him. The 
 first person we saw was Fanny, and the first 
 thing she did was to upset her chair on the 
 veranda on the top of a sleeping dog, who 
 at first howled, and then made a rush at us 
 barking loudly. 
 
 " Down, Di I " cr ed Fanny. " How dare 
 you I O Mr. Ticehurst, how glad I am 
 you're not dead ! And you, too, Mr. Harmer, 
 though no one said you were ! Oh, where's 
 father, I wonder — he'll be glad, too ! " 
 
 " And Elsie, will she be glad as well, 
 Fanny ? " I asked. She looked at me slyly, 
 and nodded. 
 
 "You'd better ask her, I think. Here 
 comes father." ^ 
 
 He rode up on horseback, followed by 
 Siwash Jim, swinging the noose of a lariat in 
 his right hand, as though he had been after 
 horses or cattle. 
 
 " Oh, it's you, Tom, is it ? " said Fleming, 
 who was looking very well. "I'm glad 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 168 
 
 youVe not quite so dead as I was told. And 
 you, Harmer, how are you ? Jim, take these 
 gentlemen's horses to the stable. YouVe 
 come to stay for dinner, of course. I shan't 
 let you go. I heard you did very well gold- 
 gambling last fall. Come in!" For that 
 news went down the country when we went 
 to the Landing for grub. 
 
 I followed, wondering a little whether 
 he would have been quite so effusive if I 
 had done badly. But I soon forgot that 
 when I saw Elsie, who had just come out of 
 her room. I thought, when I saw her, that 
 she was a little paler than when we had last 
 met, though perhaps that was due to the 
 unaccustomed cold and the sunless winter; 
 but she more than ever merited the rough 
 tribute which Dave had paid her in Conlan's 
 bar. She was very beautiful to them ; but 
 how much more to me, as she came up, a little 
 shyly, and shook hands softly, saying that 
 she was glad that the bad news they had 
 
164 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 heaid of me was not true. I fancied that she 
 had thought of me often during that winter, 
 and perhaps had seen she had been unjust. 
 At any rate, there was a great difference 
 between what she was then and what she was 
 now. 
 
 We talked during dinner about the winter, 
 which the three Australians almost cursed ; 
 in fact, the father did curse it very admi- 
 rably, while Elsie hardly reproved his strong 
 language, so much did she feel that forty 
 degrees below zero merited all the oppro- 
 brium that could be cast on it. I described 
 our gold-mining adventures and the win- 
 ter's trapping, which, by the way, had 
 added ^ve hundred dollars tc my other 
 money. 
 
 I told Fleming that I was now worth, with 
 some I still had at home, more than five 
 thousand dollars, and I could see it gave him 
 satisfaction. 
 
 ♦* What do you think of the country now, 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 165 
 
 Mr. FlemiDg?" I asked; "and how long 
 shall you stay here?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " I don't know, my boy," he answered ; " I 
 think, in spite of the cold, we shall have to 
 stand another winter here. This summer I 
 must rebuild the barns and stables; there 
 are still a lot of cattle adrift somewhere ; 
 and I won't sell out under a certain sum. 
 That's business, you know ; and I have just a 
 little about me, though I am an old fool at 
 times, when the girls want their own way." 
 
 " What would you advise me to do ? " said 
 I, hoping he would give me some advice 
 which I could flatter him by taking. " You 
 see, when one has so much money, it is only 
 the correct thing to make more of it. The 
 question is how to do it." 
 
 " That's quite right, Ticehurst — quite 
 right ! " said he energetically. " I'm glad 
 you talk like that; your head's screwed on 
 right ; you will be well in yet " (an Austra* 
 
Ps* 
 
 166 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 lian phraae for our " well off "), " I'll bet on 
 that. Well, you can open a store, or go lmn» 
 bering, or gold-niining, or hunting, or raise 
 cattle, like me." 
 
 I pretended to reflect, though I nearly 
 laughed at catching Harmer's eve, for he 
 knew quite well what I wanted to do. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Fleming, you're right. That's 
 nearly all one can do. But as to keeping a 
 store, you see, I've been so accustomed to an 
 open-air life, I don't think it would suit me. 
 Besides, a big man like me ought to do some- 
 thing else than sell trousers! As to gold- 
 mining, I've done that, and been lucky once, 
 which, in such a gambling game, is against 
 me. And hunting or trapping — well, there's 
 nothing great in that. I think I should pre- 
 fer cattle-raising, if I could do it I was 
 brought up on a farm in England, and why 
 shouldn't I die on one in British Columbia, 
 or " (and I looked at Elsie) " in Australia ? " 
 
 ^' Quite rights Tom," said Fanny, laughing, 
 
LOVE AND HATK. 
 
 167 
 
 for she was too cute to mies seeing what I 
 meant. 
 
 Mr. Fleming looked at me approvingly. 
 
 " You'll die worth a lot yet, Tom Tice- 
 hurst. I like your spiiit. I was just the 
 same once. Now, I'll tell you what. Did 
 you ever see George Nettlebury at the 
 Forks?" 
 
 " No," I replied, "not that I know of." 
 
 "I dare say you have," said he; "he's 
 mostly drunk; and Indian Alice, who is 
 always with him, usually has a black eye, as 
 a gentle reminder that she belongs to an 
 inferior race, if she is his wife. Now, he 
 lives about two miles from here, over 
 yonder" (he pointed over the valley). "He 
 has a house — a very dirty one now, it is true ; 
 a stable, and a piece of meadow, fenced in, 
 where he could raise good hay if he would 
 mend the fence and keep other folks' cattle 
 out. He told me the other day that he was 
 sick to death of this place, and he wants just 
 
168 
 
 THE MATK Ol<' THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 •■- i! I 
 
 P-. 
 
 U'i 
 
 P^' J' 
 
 enough to go East with, and return to his 
 old trade of shipbuilding. He says he will 
 take $300 for the whole place, with 
 what is on it. That don't amount to much 
 — ^two cows, one old steer, and a cayuse he 
 rides round on. If you like, we'll go over 
 and see him. You can buy it, and buy some 
 more cattle, and if you have more neid; 
 winter than you can feed, I'll let you have 
 the hay cheap. What do you say ? " 
 . My heart leapt up, but I pretended I 
 wanted time to think about it. 
 
 "Then let's ride over now, and you can 
 look at the place," said he; rising. 
 
 Harmer would not come, so I left him 
 with the sisters. When we returned I was 
 the owner of the house, stable, two cows, 
 etc., and George Nettlebury was fighting 
 vdth Indian Alice, to whom he had an- 
 nounced his intention of going East at once, 
 and without her. 
 
 " I'm tired of this life ; it*s quite disgust- 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 169 
 
 ing I " said George, as we departed. " rm 
 glad you came, Mr. Ticehurst, for I'm off too 
 quick." 
 
 As we rode back to Thomson Forks, Har- 
 mer asked pathetically what he was to do. 
 
 " We must see. Jack," I answered kindly. 
 " We'll get you something in town." 
 
 "Fd rather be with you," he answered 
 dolorously. 
 
 " Well, you can't yet, that's certain," said L 
 " I can't afford to pay you wages, when there 
 will be no more than I can get through 
 myself; when there is, I'll let you know. 
 In the meantime you must make money. 
 Jack. There's a sawmill in town. 1 1» aow 
 the man that runs it — Bill Custer, and I'll 
 go and see him for you." 
 
 Jack sighed, and we rode on in silence 
 until we reached the Forks. 
 
 After we had had supper Jack and I were 
 standing in the barroom, not near the stove, 
 which was surrounded by a small crowd of 
 
 y\ 
 
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 I 
 
 I 'I 
 
 m 
 
 f: " ' 
 
 il i! 
 '*■- [il 
 
 i). 
 
 170 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 men, who smoked and chewed and chattered, 
 hwi close by the dor>r for the sake of the 
 fresher air, when we saw Siwash Jiin ride 
 lip. After tying his horse to the rail in 
 front of the house, to which half a dozen 
 other animals in various stages of equine 
 despondency or irritation were already 
 attached, he swaggered into the bar, 
 bnishing against me rather rudely as he 
 did so. Hariner's eyes flashed with indig- 
 nation, as if it vfBJA he who had been insulted. 
 But I am a ver, peaceable man, and don^t 
 alway*"- fight ai) the firat chance. Besides, 
 being so much bigger than Jim, I could, I 
 considered; afford to take no notice of what 
 an ill-conditioned little ruffian like that did 
 when he was probably drunk. Presently 
 Jack spoke to me. 
 
 " That beastly fellow keeps looking at yoUj 
 Mr. Ticebui'st, as if he would like to cut- 
 your thr(/at. What's wrong with him ? Is 
 he jealous of you, do you think \ "' 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 171 
 
 It was almost blasphemy to dream of such 
 a thingy and I looked at Mr. JoIlu Harmer 
 so stei'nly that he apologiiiod ; yet I believe 
 it must to some extent have been that which 
 caused the trouble that ensued almost 
 directly, and added afterward to the danger 
 in which I already stood. I turned round 
 and looked at Jim, who returned my glancd 
 furiously. He ordered another drink, and 
 then another. It seemed as if he was 
 desirous of making himself drunk. Presently 
 Dave, who was, as usual, behind the bar, 
 spoke to him. 
 
 " Going back to the ranch to-night, Jim ? " 
 
 Jim struck the bar hard with his fist. 
 
 ** No, Tm not I Never, unless I go to set 
 the damned place on fire ! " 
 
 " Why, what's the matter ? " asked Dave, 
 smiling, while Harmer and I pricked up our 
 ears. 
 
 " Ah I I had some trouble with old Fleming 
 just now/' haid Jim, in a hoarse voice of 
 
 ii 
 
 ■ ^s^-- 
 
 n 
 
 '» 
 
172 
 
 THE MATE OF TMB ^AKCOUVB«. 
 
 rl\ 
 
 liiii' 
 
 'H 
 
 passiocu. " He's like the re«f wants too mudk ; 
 tlie more oiie does, the mor^ one may do. 
 
 He's a dirty coyote, and his ^rls are " 
 
 And the gentle-minded Jim used an epithet 
 which made both our ears tingle. 
 
 Jack made a spring, but I caught him by - 
 the shoulder and sent him spinning back, and 
 walked up alongside the mr.n. I saw my 
 own face in the glass at the back of the bar ; 
 it was very white, and I could hardly recog- 
 nize it. 
 
 " Mind what yod say, you infernal ruffian ! " 
 I said, in a low voice, " or I'll break your neck 
 for you I Don't you dare to speak about 
 ladies, you dog, or I'll strangle you I " He 
 sprang back like lightning. If he had had a 
 six-shooter on him I think my story would 
 have ended here, for I had none lyself. But 
 Jim had no weapon. Yet he v as no coward, 
 and did not "take water," "back down," 
 as they say there. He steadied himself one 
 moment, and then threw the water-bottle at 
 
1.^ 
 
 LOVE AND HATB. 
 
 173 
 
 me with all his force. Though I ducked, 
 I did not quite escape it, for the handle 
 caught me on the forehead near the hair, and, 
 in breaking, cut a gash which sent the blood 
 down into my left eye. But I caught hold 
 of him before he could do anything else. 
 In a moment the room was in an uproar; 
 some of the men climbed on to the tables 
 in order to get a view, ,vhile those outside 
 crowded to the door. They roared, " Leave 
 *em alone ! " when Dave attempted to 
 approach, and one big fellow caught hold 
 of Harmer and held him, savino^: at the same 
 time, as Jack told me afterward, " You stay 
 right here, sofjoy, and see 'em fight. Mebbe 
 you'll lam something ! " 
 
 / found Jim a much tougher customer than 
 I should have imagined, although I might 
 have handled him more easily if I had not 
 been for ^be time blind in one eye. But he 
 was like a bunch of nuincle ; hiy arms, though 
 slender, were as tough and hard as his stock- 
 
 '■%4 
 
mmmmmi 
 
 174 
 
 THE MATK OF 'I'ilB VANOOUVEH. 
 
 W 
 
 i 
 
 wbip handle, and his quickness was siirpriBing. 
 He struck me once or twice as we grappled, 
 and then we feU, rolling over and over, and 
 scattering the onlookei's, as we went, until we 
 came against the legs of the table, which gave 
 way and sent three men to the floor with a 
 shock that shook the house. Finally, Jim got 
 his hand in my hair and tried to gouge out 
 my eyes. Fortunately, it was not long enough 
 for him to get a good hold, but when I felt 
 his thumbs feeling for my eyes, all the 
 strength and rage I ever had seemed to come 
 to me, and I rose suddenly with him clmging 
 to me. For a moment we swayed about, and 
 then I caught his throat, pushed him at arm's 
 length from me, and, catching hold of his 
 belt, I threw him right over my head. I was 
 standing with my back to th* door, and he 
 went through it, fell on the siilewdlk, and 
 rolled off into the road, where he lay 
 insensible. 
 
 "Very goodl" said Dave; " very well 
 
LOVE AND RATB. 
 
 175 
 
 done indeed! Pick him up, 8ome of you 
 fellows, and see if he's dead. The sen of a 
 gun, ni make him pay for that bottle, 
 and for the table I Come, have a drink, 
 Mr„ Ticehurst. You look rather wai*m." 
 
 I should think I did, besides being 
 smothered with blood and dust. I was glad 
 DO accept his invitation. 
 
 " Is he dead ? " I asked of Harmer, who 
 came in just then. 
 
 "Not he,'' said Jack, "he's coming to 
 already, but I guess hell fight no more for a 
 few days. That must have been a sickener. 
 By Jove ! how strong you must be — he went 
 out of the door like a stone out of a sling. 
 Lucky he didn't hit the post." And Haiiner 
 chuckled loudly, and then went off with me 
 to wash away the blood, and bandage the 
 cut in my forehead. 
 
 When I left town in the morning I heard 
 that Jim wiis still in bed and likely to stay 
 there for some time. And Harmer, who was 
 
 i r 
 
 i. 
 
 ^n 
 
ipnm 
 
 176 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 going to work with Bill Custer, promised to 
 let me know if lie heard anything which was 
 of importance to me. 
 
 On my way out to my new property I met 
 its late owner and his Indian wife in their 
 1 icketty wagon, drawn by the horse I had not 
 thoiaght worth buying. Nettlebury was 
 more than half drunk, although it was early 
 in the morning, and when he saw me coming 
 he rose up, waved his hand to me, bellowed, 
 " I'm a-goin' East, I am ! " and, falling over 
 the seat backward, disappeared from view. 
 Alice reached out her hand and helped 
 « her husband to regain his former position. 
 I came up alongside and reined in my 
 horse. 
 
 He looked at me. 
 
 " Been fightin' aVeady, hev you ; or did you 
 get chucked off? More likely you got 
 chucked — it takes an American to ride these 
 cay uses ! " said he half sconifully. 
 
 " No," said I, " I wasn't chucked, and I 
 
 II;; ' 
 
LOVE AND IIATB. 
 
 1T7 
 
 i { 
 
 have been fighting. Did you hear why 
 Siwaah Jim left Fleming ? " 
 
 " No, not exactly," he returned ; " but he 
 was sassy with Miss Elsie, and— oh, I dunno 
 — but you hev been fightin', eh ? Did you 
 lick him — and who was it ? " 
 
 " The man himself, Mr. Nettlebury," said 
 I — "Jim; and I reckon I did whip 
 him." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "Good on you, old man! He's been 
 wanting it this long while past ; but look 
 out he don't put a knife in your ribs. Now 
 then," said he ferociously, turning to his wife, 
 " why don't you drive on ? Here, catch 
 hold I " and giving her the reins, he lifted his 
 hand to strike her. But just then the old 
 horse started Tip, he fell over the seat again, 
 and lay there on a pile of sacking. I hardly 
 thought he would get East with his money, 
 and I was right, for I hired him to work for 
 me soon afterward. 
 
 I- 
 
178 
 
 THE MATK OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 When I came to the Flemings' there was 
 no one about but the old man. 
 
 " Busy ! " said he, " you may bet I'm busy. 
 I sent that black ruiiian off yesterday, and 
 IVe got no one to help me. What's the 
 matter with your head ? " 
 
 When I told him, he laughed heartily, and 
 then shook my hand. 
 
 " I'm glad you thrashed him, Tom," said 
 he ; " I'd have done it myself yesterday if I 
 had been ten years younger. When Elsie, 
 wanted him to get some water, he growled 
 and said all klootchmen, as he calk ' em — 
 women, you know — were alike, Indian or 
 white, and no good. I told him to get out. 
 Is he badly hurt ? " 
 
 " Not very," I answered. 
 
 " I hoped he was," said the old man. " It's 
 a pity you didn't break his neck ! I would 
 as soon trust a black snake ! Are you going 
 over yonder ? " 
 
 " I guess so." I answered ; " I um t;t get 
 
lOVB AKD HATB. 
 
 179 
 
 the place cleaned up a bit — it's like a pigsty, 
 or what they call a hog-pen in this country," 
 
 '* Well, I guess it is," he replied ; " but 
 come over in the evening, if you like." 
 
 I thanked him and rode off, happy in one 
 thing at least — I was near Elsie. I felt as if 
 Harmer's suspicions about Mat were a mere 
 chimera, and that the lad in some excitement 
 had mistaken the dark face of some harmless 
 Indian for that of the revengeful Malay, 
 And as to Siwash Jim, why, I shrugged my 
 shoulders; I did not suppose he was so 
 murderously inclined as Nettlebury imagined. 
 It would be hard lines on me to have two 
 men so ill disposed toward me, through 
 no fault of my own, as to wish to kill me. 
 
 I went b«^k to the Flemings' after a hai'd 
 d.'^y's work, in which I burnt, or otherwise 
 disposed of, an almost unparalleled collection 
 of rubbish, including old crockery and 
 bottles, dirty shirts and worn-out boots, 
 which had been accumulating indoors and 
 
 m 
 
mm 
 
 180 
 
 THB MATE OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 out for some ten years. After being nearly 
 smothered, I was gLid to go down to the 
 creek and take a bath in the clear, cold water 
 which ran into the main watercourse issuing, 
 some two miles away, from the Black Cafion 
 at the back of the valley, concerning which 
 Fleming had once spoken to me. That 
 evening at his ranch was the pleasantest I 
 ever spent in my life up to that time, in spite 
 of the black cloud which hung over me, for 
 Fanny was as bright and happy as a bird, 
 while Elsie, who seemed to have come to her 
 senses, spoke almost freely, displaying no 
 more disinclination to me, even apparently, 
 than might naturally be set down to her 
 instinctive modesty, and her knowledge that 
 I was courting her, and desired to be 
 received as her lover. 
 
 I spoke to her late that evening when 
 Fleming went out to throw down the night's 
 hay to his horses. For Fanny vanished 
 discreetly at the same moment, and continued 
 
LOVB AND HATB. 
 
 181 
 
 to make just enough noise in the kitchen to 
 assure us she was there, while it was not 
 sufficient to drown even the softest 
 conversation. Good girl she was, and is — I 
 love her yet, though — well, perhaps I had 
 better leave that unsaid at present. 
 
 " Elsie," I said, when we were alone, " do 
 you remember what I said when we parted 
 on the steamer ? " 
 
 She cast her eyes down, but did not an- 
 swer. 
 
 " I think you do, Elsie," I went on ; "I said 
 I should never forget. Do you think I have ? 
 Don*t you know why I left my ship, why I 
 came to this country, why I went raining, and 
 why I have worked so hard and patiently for 
 long, long V rrsths without seeing you ? An- 
 swer me ; J ' : y ou know why ? " 
 
 She hesitated a moment, lifted up her blue 
 eyes, dropped them at the sight of the passion 
 in mine, and said gently, " I suppose so, Mr. 
 Ticehurst" 
 
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182 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 "Yes, you know, Elsie; it was that I 
 miglit be near you, that I might get rich 
 enough to be able to claim you. How for- 
 tunate I have been in that ! But am I for- 
 tunate in other things, too, Elsie ? Will you 
 answer me that, Elsie ? " 
 
 I approached her, but she held up her 
 hand. 
 
 *' Stay, Mr. Ticehurst ! — if I must speak. 
 I may have judged you wrongly, but I am 
 not wholly sure that I have. If I have not, 
 I should only be preparing misery for myself 
 and for you, if I answered your questions as 
 you would have me. I want time, and I must 
 have it, or some other assurance ; for how can 
 I wholly trust you when you will not speak 
 as you might do ? " 
 
 Ah ! how could I ? But this was 
 far better than I had expected — far 
 better. 
 
 t 
 
 " Elsie," I answered quietly, " I am ready 
 to give you time, all the time you need to 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 183 
 
 prove me, and my love for you, though there 
 is no need. My heart is yours, and yours 
 only, ever from the time I saw you. I have 
 never even wavered in my faith and hope. 
 But I do not care so long as I may be near 
 you — so long as I may see you sometimes, 
 and speak to you. For without you I shall 
 be wretched, and would be glad even if that 
 wretched Malay were to kill me, as he threat- 
 ened." 
 
 I thought I was cunning to bring in Mat- 
 thias, and indeed she lifted her eyes then. 
 But she showed no signs of fear for me. 
 Perhaps she looked at* me, saying to herself 
 there was no need of such a strong man being 
 afraid of such a visionary danger. She spoke 
 after a little silence. 
 
 "Then let it be so, Mr. Ticehurst. If 
 what you say be true, there at least is nothing 
 for you to fear." 
 
 She looked at me straight then with her 
 glorious blue eyes, and I would have given 
 
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184 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 w jrlds to catch her in my arms and press her 
 to my heart. She went on : 
 
 " And if you never give me cause, why — " 
 She was silent, but held out her hand. 
 
 I took it, pressed it, and would have raised 
 it to my lips, only she drew it gently away. 
 But I went to rest happy that night. Give 
 her cause !— indeed, what cause could I give 
 her ? That is what I asked myseK, without 
 knowing what was coming, without feeling 
 my ignorance, my blindness, and my helpless- 
 ness in the strange web of fate and fated 
 crime which was being woven around me — 
 without being conscious, as an animal is in 
 the prairie, of that storm, so ready to burst 
 on my head, whose first faint clouds had risen 
 on the horizon of my life, even before I had 
 Rjeen her, in the very hour that I had joined 
 the Vancouver under my own brother's com- 
 mand. I went to sleep, wondering vaguely 
 what had become of him. But we are blind, 
 all of us, and see nothing until the curtain 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 186 
 
 'V' 
 v-i. 
 
 rises on act after act ; being ignorant still, 
 whether the end shall be sweet or bitter to 
 us, whether it shall justify our smiles in 
 happiness, oi our tears in some bitter 
 tragedy. 
 
 For two days I worked in And about my 
 house, putting things in some order, and on 
 the third I rode over to the Flemings' early 
 in the morning, as it had been arranged that 
 I was to go out with Mr. Fleming to look 
 after some cattle of his, which a neighbor 
 had complained of. I never felt in better 
 spirits than when I rode over the short two 
 miles which separated us, for the morning 
 was calm and bright, with a ^-ouch of that 
 glorious freshness known only among moun- 
 tains or on high plateaus lifted up from the 
 common level of the under world. I even 
 sang softly to myself, for the black cloud of 
 doubt, which but a few days ago had 
 obscured all my light, was driven away by a 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 J'! 
 
 I 
 
 Ml 
 
 I'. 
 I 
 
186 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 new dawning of hope, and I was content and 
 without fear. I shouted cheerfully for 
 Fleming as I rode up, and he came to the 
 door with his whip over his arm, followed by 
 the two ^rls. I alighted, and shook hands 
 all round. 
 
 "Then you are ready, Mr. Fleming?" I 
 asked. 
 
 " When I have put the saddle on the black 
 horse," he replied, as he went toward the 
 stable, leaving me standing there, for I was 
 little inclined to offer to assist him while 
 Elsie remained outside the house. Fanny 
 was quite as mischievous as ever, and 
 whether her sister had tolJ her anything of 
 what had passed between us two days before 
 or not, she was evidently conscious that the 
 relations between Elsie and myself had 
 somehow altered for the better. 
 
 **How do you find yourself these dayf 
 Tom ? " she asked, with a merry twinkle in 
 her eye. 
 
LOVE AND KATE. 
 
 187 
 
 " Veiy well, Fanny," I answered. " Thanks 
 for your inquiry." 
 
 "Does the climate suit you, then? Or is 
 it the surroundings ? " 
 
 "Both, my dear girl, as long as the sun 
 shines on us ! " I replied, laughing, while 
 Elsie turned away with a smile. 
 
 Fanny almost winked at me, and then 
 looked up the road toward Thomson Forks, 
 which ran close by the ranch and led toward 
 an Indian settlement on the Lake about ten 
 miles away. 
 
 " There's someone coming," she said, " and 
 he's in a hurry. Isn't he galloping, Mr. Tice- 
 hurst ? " 
 
 I looked up the road and saw somebody 
 who certainly was coming down the long 
 slope from the crest of the hill with more 
 than reasonable rapidity. I looked, and then 
 turned away carelessly. What was the horse- 
 man to me ? I leant against the post of the 
 veranda, which some former occupant of the 
 
 K 
 
 ft' I 
 
 n 
 
 5 , 
 
 SM 
 
 
188 THE MATi: OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 house had ornamented by whittling with his 
 knife, until it was almost too thin to do its 
 duty, and began to speak to Fanny again, 
 when I saw her bhish and start. 
 
 "Why, Mr. Ticehurst," she said, "it's Mr. 
 Harmer ! " 
 
 Then the horseman was something to me, 
 after all. For what but some urgent need 
 would bring Jack, who was entirely ignorant 
 of horaes and riding, at that breakneck gallop 
 over the mountain road? My carelessness 
 went suddenly, and I felt my heart begin to 
 beat with unaccustomed violence. I turned 
 pale, I know, as I watched him coming 
 nearer. I was quite unconscious that Elsie 
 had rejoined her sister, and stood behind 
 me. 
 
 Harmer came closer and closer, and when 
 he saw us waved his hat. In a moment he 
 W£3 at the gate, while I stood still at the 
 house, and did not move to go toward him. 
 He alighted, opened the gate, and, with his 
 

 LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 189 
 
 bridle over his ann, came up to us. He said 
 good-morning to the girls hurriedly, and 
 turned to me. 
 
 "You must come to Thomson Forks 
 directly, Mr. Ticehurst ! " he said, gasp- 
 ing, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. 
 " Something's happened, I don't know 
 what, and I can't tell ; but she wants to see 
 you at once, and sent me off to fetch you — 
 and so I came, and, oh ! how sore I am," and 
 he wriggled suggestively, and in a way that 
 would have been comic under other circum- 
 stances. 
 
 I caught hold of his arm. 
 
 " What do you mean," I roared, " you 
 young fool? What's happened, and who 
 wants to see me ? Who's she ? " 
 
 He looked up in astonishment. 
 
 "Why, didn't I say Mrs. Ticehurst, of 
 course?" 
 
 I let him go and fell against the post, 
 making it crack as I did so. I looked at 
 
 
 II 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 u 
 
 I 
 
 :ij -^ 
 
190 
 
 THE MATK OF THj: VANCOUVER. 
 
 Elsie, and she was white and aiern. But she 
 did not avoid my eye. 
 
 "Well, what is it — what's happened?" I 
 fiaid at last. 
 
 ^*I don't know, I tell you, sir," said he 
 almost piteously ; " all I know is that I was 
 sent for to the sawmill by Dave, and when I 
 came I saw Mrs. Ticehurst ; and she's dressed 
 in black, sir, and she looked dreadfully bad, 
 and she just shook b^nds with nie, and told 
 me to fetch you at once. And when I asked 
 what for, she just stamped, sir, and told me 
 to go. And so I came, and that's all ! " 
 
 Surely it was enough. Much as I liked 
 her, I would rather have met Mat or the very 
 devil in the way than had this happen now, 
 when things were going so well with me. 
 And in black ? — ^good God ! had anything 
 happened to my brother ? I turned white, I 
 know, and almost fell. 
 
 "You had better go at once, Tom," 
 laid Fanny, who held me by the arm. I 
 
^S"^ 
 
 LOVB AND HATB. 
 
 191 
 
 turned, I hardly know why, to her sister. 
 Her face was very pale, but her eyes glit- 
 tered, and she looked like marble. I know 
 my own asked hers a question, but I got no 
 response. I turned away toward my horse, 
 and then she spoke. 
 
 " Mr. Ticehurst, let me speak to you one 
 moment. Fanny, go and talk to Mr. Harmer." 
 
 And Fanny and I both obeyed her like 
 children. 
 
 She looked at me straight. 
 
 " How could I prove you, Mr. Ticehurst," 
 she said, in a low voice, " was what I asked 
 the other night. Now the means are in my 
 power. What are you going to do ? " 
 
 " I am going to the Forks," I said, in be- 
 wilderment. Her eyes flashed, and she 
 looked at me scornfully. 
 
 "Then go, but don't ever speak to me 
 again I Go I " 
 
 And she turned away. I caught her arm. 
 
 " Don't be unjust, Elsie I — don't be cruelly 
 
 
 
 r 
 
 I' i> ' 
 
 m 
 
 km 
 
 f n • 
 \ 
 
 m. 
 
 m 
 
 WIS I 
 
 if 
 
192 
 
 THE MATE OF TItE VANCOUVER. 
 
 unjust I " I cried. What a fool I was ; I 
 knew she loved me, and yet I asked her 
 not to be cruel and unjust. Can a woman 
 or a man in love be anything else ? 
 
 " How can I stay away ? " "f asked pas- 
 sionately, "when my brother's wife sencls 
 for me? And she is in black — ^poor Will 
 must be dead ! " 
 
 If he was dead, then Helen was free. 
 I saw that and so did Elsie, and it hardened 
 her more than ever, for she did not answer. 
 
 " Look then, Elsi^, I am going, and you say 
 I shall not speak to you again. You are cruel, 
 very cruel — ^but I love you ! And you shall 
 speak to me — aye, and one day ask my pardon 
 for doubting me. But even for you I cannot 
 refuse this request of my own sister-in-law — 
 who is ill, alone, in sorrow and trouble, in a 
 strange land. For the present, good-by ! " 
 
 I turned away, took a/ horse from the 
 fence, and rode off rapid!) . without thinking 
 of Harmer, or of Flemii^^^, who was standing 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 193 
 
 in amazement at his stable, as I saw when I 
 opened the swing-gate. And if Harmer had 
 come up at a gallop, I went at one, until my 
 horse was ; overed with sweat, and the foam, 
 flying from his champed bit, hung about my 
 knees like soa-foam that did not easily melt. 
 In halt an hour I was at Conlan's door, and 
 was received by Dave. In two minutes I 
 stood in Helen's presence. 
 
 "When I saw her last she had that rich red 
 complexion which showed the pure color of 
 the blood through a delicate skin ; her eyes 
 were piercing and perhaps a little hard, and 
 her figure was full and beautiful. She had 
 always rejoiced, too, in bright colors, such as 
 an Oriental might have chosen, and their 
 richness had suited her striking appearance. 
 But not'T she was woefully altered, and I 
 barely knew her. The color had deserted 
 her cheeks, which were wan and hollow; 
 her eyes were sunken and ringed with dark 
 circles, and her bust had fallen in until she 
 
 ti!.: 
 
 ' -n 
 
 Mm 
 
 ', 1-,! 
 . 1 \ 
 
vm~M.imvii, 
 
 194 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 looked like the ghost of her fonuer self, a 
 ghost that was but a mere vague memory 
 of her whom I had first known in Mel- 
 bourne. 
 
 Her dress, too, was black, which I knew 
 she hated, and in which she looked even less 
 like herself. Her voice, when she spoke, no 
 longer rang out with assjtirance, but faltered 
 ever and again with the tears that rose to her 
 eyes and checked her utterance. 
 
 I took her hand, full of pity for her, and 
 dread of what she had to tell me, for it must 
 be something dreadful which had changed 
 her so much and brought her so far. 
 ' " What is it, Helen ? " I said, in a low 
 voice. 
 
 " What did I come for, you mean, Tom ? *' 
 she asked, though desiring no answer. "I 
 came for your sake— and not for WilFs.' I 
 thought you might never get a letter, and I 
 wanted to see you once again. Ah I how 
 much I desired that Tom, you are in 
 
 MBMBM 
 
" If IWfl'A^' 
 
 r^^^fmmmmt 
 
 LOVE ANli HATE. 
 
 190 
 
 u 
 
 danger!" she spoke that suddenly — "m 
 danger every moment! For that man who 
 threatened your life " 
 
 I nodded, sucking my dry lips, for I knew 
 what she meant, and J was only afraid of 
 what else she had to tell me. 
 
 ^^ That man has escaped, and has not been 
 caught. O Tom, be careful — be careful I 
 If you were to die, too " 
 
 " What do you mean, Helen ? " I asked, 
 though I knew full well what she meant. 
 She looked at me. 
 
 " Can't you think ? Yes, you can perhaps 
 partly ; but not all — not all the horror of it. 
 Tom, Will is dead ! And not only that, but 
 he was murdered in San Francisco ! " 
 
 I staggered, and sat down staring at her. 
 She went on in a curiously constrained 
 voice. 
 
 " Yes ; the very first night we came ashore, 
 and in our hotel ! He was intoxicated, and 
 ^me in late, and I wouldn't have him in my 
 
 
 I 
 
 ■a^; 
 
196 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 ill 
 
 room. I made them put him in the next, and 
 I heard him shouting out of his window over 
 the veranda soon afterward, and then I fell 
 asleep. And in the morning I found him— I 
 myself found him dead in bed, struck right 
 through with a stab in the heart. And he 
 was robbed, too. Tom, it nearly killed me, 
 it was so horrible-oh, it was horrible I I 
 didn't know what to do. I was going to 
 send for you, and then I read in the paper 
 about Mat having escaped two days before, 
 so I came away at once." 
 
 She ceased and sobbed violently; and I 
 kept silence. God alone knows what was in 
 my heart, and how it came there ; but for a 
 moment — ^yes, and for more than that — I 
 suspected her, his wife, of my brother's 
 murder I I was blind enough, I suppose, and 
 so was she ; but then so many times in life 
 we wonder suddenly at our want of sight 
 when the truth comes out. I remembered 
 she had once said she hated him, and con I 
 
LOVE AND HATB. 
 
 197 
 
 kill him. And besides, she loved me. I 
 
 shivered and was still silent. She looked up 
 
 and caught my eye, which, I knew, was full 
 
 of doubt. She rose up suddenly, came to 
 
 me, feU on her knees, and cried: 
 
 "No, no, Tom— not that! For God's 
 sake, don't look at me so ! " 
 
 And I knew she saw my very heart, and 
 
 I was ashamed of myself. I lifted her up 
 
 and put her on a chair. Heavens ! how light 
 
 she was to what she had been, for her soul 
 had wasted her body away like a strong 
 wind fanning a fire. 
 
 " Poor Will ! " I said at last, and then I 
 asked if she had remained for the inquest. 
 No, she had not, she answered. I started at 
 her reply. If I could think what I had, 
 what might others not do? For her to 
 disappear like that after the murder of her 
 husband was enough to make people believe 
 her guilty of the crime, and I wondered that 
 she had not been prevented from leaving. 
 
 
 
 it. 
 
 i 
 
 
 r 
 
 
198 
 
 THE MAT& OF THE VANOOlTVEtt. 
 
 But on qtiestioning her iurthef^ I learnt that 
 the police suspected a certain man who was 
 a frequenter of that very hotel; and, after 
 the manner of their kind^ had got him in 
 custody, and were devoting all their atten- 
 tion to proving him guilty of the crime, 
 whether there were prima facie proofs or 
 not. Still, it seemed bitter that poor Will 
 should be left to strangers while his wife 
 came to see me ; and though she had done it 
 to save me, as she thought, yet, after all, the 
 danger was hardly such as to warrant her 
 acting us she had done. But T was not the 
 person to blame her. She had dor ^ it, poor 
 woman, because she yet loved me, as I knew 
 even then. But I saw, too, that it was love 
 without hope.; and even if it had not been, 
 she must have learnt that I was near to 
 Elsie ; and that I was " courting old Flem- 
 ing's gal " was the common talk whenever 
 jny name was mentioned* I tried to con* 
 vince myself that she had most likely ceased 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 199 
 
 to think of me, and I preferred to believe it 
 was only the daily and hourly irritation of 
 poor Will's conduct which had driven her to 
 compare me with him to his disadvantage. 
 Well, whatever his faults were, they had been 
 bitterly expiated ; as, indeed, such faults as 
 his usually are. It does not require statistics 
 to convince anyone who has seen much of 
 the world that most of the trouble in it 
 comes directly from drink. 
 
 I was in a strange situation as I sat reflect- 
 ing. I suppose strict duty required me to 
 go to San Francisco, and yet Will would be 
 buried before I could get there. Then what 
 was I to do with his widow ? She could not 
 stay there, I could not allow it, nor did I 
 think she desired it. Still she was not fit to 
 travel in her state of nervous exhaustion ; in- 
 deed, it was a marvel that she had been able 
 to come so far, even under the stimulus of 
 such unwonted excitement. I could not go 
 away with her even for a part of the return 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 'W!A 
 
 m 
 
 a 
 
 ■A ,i 
 
200 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 journey, for I felt Elsie would be harder and 
 harder to manage the more she knew I saw 
 of Helen. I ended by coming to the conclu- 
 sion that she must stay at the Forks for 
 a while, and that I must go back and try 
 to have an explanation with Elsie. Helen 
 bowed her head in acquiescence when I told 
 her what she had better do, for the poor 
 woman was utterly broken down, and ready 
 to lean on any arm that was offered her ; and 
 she, who had been so strong in her own will, 
 was at last content to be advised like an 
 obedient child. I left her with Mrs. Conlan, 
 to whom I told as much as I thought desira- 
 ble, and, kissing her on the forehead, I took 
 my horse and rode slowly toward home. 
 
 As I left the town I saw Siwash Jim 
 sitting on the sidewalk, and he looked at 
 me with a face full of diabolical hatred. 
 When I got to the crest of the hill above the 
 town I turned in the saddle, and saw him 
 still gazing after me. 
 
^9? 
 
 LOVE AND KATE. 
 
 201 
 
 When half-way home I met Harmer, who 
 was riding even slower than I, and sitting as 
 gingerly in the saddle as if he were very 
 uncomfortable, as I had no doubt he was. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Ticehui-st," said he eagerly, 
 when we came near, " what was it ? " 
 
 I told him, and he looked puzzled. 
 
 " Well," he remarked at last, " it seems !jo 
 me I must have been mistaken after all, and 
 that I didn't see Mat when I thought I did. 
 Let me see, when did he escape ? " 
 
 I reckoned it up, and it was only twelve 
 days ago, for Helen had taken nine days 
 coming from San Francisco, according to what 
 she told me. 
 
 " Then it is impossible for me to have seen 
 him in New Westminster," said Harmer. 
 " But i^ is very strange tl\afc I should have 
 imagined I did S3e him, and that he did 
 escape after all." 
 
 Then I told him of my brother's death. 
 
 "Whv, Mr. Ticehurst" he exclaimed. 
 
 m 
 III 
 
 m 
 
 ^'S|: 
 
202 
 
 THE MATB OF THB VANOOUVEB. 
 
 '' Matthias must have done it himself I He 
 must — don't you see he must ? " 
 
 The thought had not entered into my head. 
 
 "No," said I; "I don't see it at all. 
 There's a man in custody for it now, and it is 
 hardly likely Mat would stay in San 
 Francisco, if he escaped, for two days. 
 Besides, it is even less likely that he would 
 fall across my brother the very first evening 
 he came ashore." 
 
 Harmer shook his head obstinately. 
 
 "We shall see, sir — ^we shall see. You 
 know he didn't like Captain Ticehurst much 
 better than you. Then, you say he was 
 robbed of his papers. Was your address 
 among them, do you think ? " 
 
 I started, for Jax;k's suspicion seemed 
 possible after all. The thing, looked more 
 likely than it had done at first sight. And 
 yet it was only my cowardice that made me 
 think so. I shook my head, but answered 
 "yes " to his question. 
 
LOVE AND HATB. 
 
 208 
 
 •^Theii pray, Mr. Ticehuret, be careful," 
 said Jack earnestly, " and carry your revolver 
 alwaya. Besides, that fellow Jim is about 
 again. You hardly huii; him at all ; he must 
 be made of iron, and I heard last night he 
 threatened to have your life." 
 
 "Threatened men live long. Jack," said 
 I. " I am not scared of him. That^s only 
 talk and blow. I don't care much if Mat 
 doesn't get on my track. He would be 
 dangerous. Did you see Miss Fleming 
 before you left?" I said, turning the 
 conversation. 
 
 He shook his head. She had gone to her 
 room, and remained there when I went 
 away. 
 
 " Well, Harmer, I shall be in town the day 
 after to-morrow," I said at last, " and if 
 anything happens, you can send me word ; 
 and go and see Mrs. Ticehurst meanwhile." 
 
 " I will do that," said he, " but to-morrow 
 morning I have to go up the lake to the 
 
 
 m 
 
 4 
 
 m 
 
 if 
 
 m 
 
204 THE MATE OF^IHE VANOOUVEB, 
 
 logging camp, and don't know when I sLaH 
 be back. That's what Custer said this 
 morning, when I asked him to let me come 
 over here." 
 
 " Very well, it won't matter, I dare say," I 
 answered. " Take care of yourself, Jack." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Ticehurst," said he, turning 
 round in the saddle, and wincing as he did 
 so, " it is you who must be careful I Pray, 
 do be very careful I " 
 
 I nodded, shook hands, and rode on. 
 
 When I came to the Flemings', Fanny 
 was at the big gate, and she asked a question 
 by her eyes before we got close enough to^ 
 speak. 
 
 "Yes, Fanny," said I, "it was serious." 
 And then I told her what had occurred. 
 She held out her hand and pressed mine 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " I am so sorry, Tom," was all she said ; 
 but she said it so kindly that her voice 
 almost brought the tears to my eyes. 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 205 
 
 "Has Elsie spoken to you since I went, 
 Fanny ? " I asked, as we walked down to 
 the house together, while my horse followed 
 with his head hanging down. 
 
 "I haven't even seen her, Tom," she 
 replied ; " the door was locked, and when I 
 knocked she told me to go away, which, as 
 it's my room too, was not very polite." 
 
 In spite of my love for Elsie, I felt 
 somewhat bitter against her injustice to me, 
 and I was glad to see that I made her suffer 
 a little on he: ^jart. I know I have said very 
 little about my own feelings, for I don't care 
 somehow to put down all that I felt, any 
 more than I like to tell any stranger all that 
 is near my heart ; but I did feel strongly and 
 deeply, and to see her, who was with me by 
 day and night as the object of my fondest 
 hope, so unjust, was enough to make me 
 bitter. I wished to reproach her, for I was 
 not a child — a boy, to be fooled with like 
 this. 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 \h 
 
*40Q 
 
 THE MATB OF THS VANOOUVEK. 
 
 " Go and ask her to see me, Fanny, please," 
 I said rather sternly, as I stood outside the 
 door. "And don't tell her anything of what 
 I told you, either of Will or Matthias." 
 
 Fanny started. 
 
 "You never said anything of Matthias I'* 
 she cried. 
 
 "Didn't I, Fanny? Well, then, I will. 
 He has escaped from prison, and I suppose 
 he is after me by this. But don't tell Elsie. 
 Just say I want to see her." 
 
 In a few moments she came back, with 
 tears in her eyes. 
 
 " She won't, Tom ! She is in an obstinate 
 fit, I know. And though she is crying her 
 eyes out — ^the spiteful cat I — she won't come. 
 I know her. She just told me to go away. 
 What shall I do ? " she asked. 
 
 " Nothing, Fanny," I answered ; " you can 
 tell her what you like. Will you be so cruel 
 to your lover, little Fanny 2 " 
 
 She looked up saucily. 
 
LOVE AND HATE. 
 
 207 
 
 " I don't know, Tom ; I shall see when I 
 have one " — ^and she laughed. 
 
 " What about Jack Harmer, then ? " 
 
 "Well, you see," and she looked down, 
 "he's very young." She wasn't more than 
 seventeen herself, and looked younger. 
 " And, besides, I don't care for anybody but 
 Elsie and father and you, Tom." 
 
 " Very well, Fanny," said I ; " give me a 
 kiss from Elsie, and make her give it you 
 back." 
 
 " I will, Tom," she said quite simply, and, 
 kissing her, I rode oft' quietly across the flat 
 to my solitary home. 
 
 ^.^N 
 
 
 " % 
 
 a 
 
 
 t t 
 
 i 
 
V 
 
^iiM 
 
 
 PAKT V. 
 
 AT THE BLACK OAlTON. 
 
 Now, as far as I have gone in tliis story, I 
 have related nothing which I did not see or 
 hear myself, which is, as it seems to me, the 
 proper way to do it, provided nothing impor- 
 tant is left out. But as I have learnt since 
 then what happened to other people, and 
 have pieced the story together in my mind, 
 I see it is necessary to depart from the rule I 
 have observed hitherto, if I don't want to ex- 
 plain, after I have come to the end of the 
 whole history, what occun'ed before; and 
 that, I can see, would be a very clumsy way 
 of narrating any affair. Now, what I am go- 
 ing to tell I have on verv good evidence, for 
 Dave at the Forks, and Conlan's stableman 
 told me part, and afterward, as will be seen, 
 
 209 
 
 f 
 
210 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 I actually learnt something from Si wash J[im 
 himself, who here plays rather a curious and 
 important part. 
 
 It appears that the day after I was at the 
 Forks (which day I spent, by the way, with 
 •Mr. Fleming, riding round the country, 
 returning afterward by the trail which led 
 from the Black Canon down to my house) 
 Siwash Jim, who had to all appearance 
 recovered from the injuries, which, however, 
 were only bruises, that I had inflicted on him, 
 began to drink early in the morning. He 
 had, so Dave says, quite an unnatural power 
 of keeping sober — and Dave himself can 
 drink more than any two men I am acquainted 
 with, unless it is Mac, my old partner, so he 
 ought to know. And though Jim drank 
 hard, he did not become drunk, but only 
 abused me. He called me all the names 
 from coyote upward and downward which 
 a British Columbian of any standing has at 
 his tongue's end, and when Jim had exhausted 
 
»pr-? 
 
 A'T THE BLACK A If OK. 
 
 211 
 
 the resources of the fertile American lan- 
 guage^ he started in Siwash or Indian, in 
 which there are many choice terms of abuse. 
 But in spit3 of hid openness, Dave says 
 it was quite evident he was dangerous, and 
 that I might really have been in peril at any 
 time of the day if I had come to town, for 
 Jim was deemed a bad character among his 
 companions, and had, so it was said, killed 
 one man at least, though he had never been 
 tried for it. But though he sat all day in the 
 bar, using my name openly, he never made 
 a move till eight in the evening, when he 
 went out for awhile. 
 
 When he returned he was accompanied by 
 a thin dark man, wearing a slouch hat over 
 his eyes, whom Dave took to be a half-breed 
 of some kind, and they had drinks together, 
 for which the stranger paid, speaking in good 
 English, but not with a Western accent. 
 Then the two went to the other side of the 
 room. What their conversation was, no one 
 
 'I 
 
 . SJ.. 
 
 I 
 
 
 ii 
 
 Mil 
 
 i?2 
 
212 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 knows exactly, nor did I ever learn; but 
 Dave, who was keeping his eye on Jim, says 
 that it seemed as if the stranger was trying 
 to persuade Jim to be quiet and stay where 
 he was, and from what occurred afterward 
 there is little doubt his supposition was cor- 
 rect. Moreover, my name undoubtedly oc- 
 curred in this conversation, for Dave heard 
 it, and the name of my ranch as well. Soon 
 after that some men came in, and, in conse- 
 quence of his being busy, Dave did not see 
 Jim go out. But Conlan's stableman says 
 Jim came to the stable with the stranger and 
 got his horse. When asked where he was 
 going, he said for a ride, and would answer 
 no more questions. And all the time the 
 strange man tried to persuade him not to go, 
 and to come and have another drink. If Jim 
 had been flush of money there might have 
 been a motive for this, but as he was not, 
 there seemed then to be none beyond the 
 sudden and absurd fondness that men some- 
 
AT THE BLACK CAUON. 
 
 213 
 
 times conceive for each other when drunk. 
 But if this were the case, it was only on the 
 stranger's side, for when the horse was brought 
 round to the door Jim mounted it, and when 
 the other man still importuned him not to go, 
 Siwash Jjm struck at him with his left hand 
 and knocked off his hat as he stood in the 
 light coming from the bar. And just then 
 attention was drawn from Jim by a sudden 
 shriek from the other side of the road where 
 Conlan's private house stood. When Dave 
 came o.:t and looked for him again, both he 
 and the other man had disappeared down the 
 road, which branched about half a mile out 
 of town into two forks, one leading east- 
 ward and the ,other southward to the Flem- 
 ings'. 
 
 Now, as I said before, most of that day I 
 had been out riding with Mr. Fleming, who 
 left me early in order to go to the next ranch 
 down the road, and I had told him the whole 
 story about Mat's escape, and my brother's 
 
 m 
 
 m\ 
 
 ^ 
 
214 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 death; which he agreed with me were hardly 
 likely to be connected. Yet he acknowledged 
 if they were I was in much more danger tbxx 
 one would have thought before, because such 
 a deed would show the Malay was a desper- 
 ado of the most fearless and dangerous de- 
 scription ; and besides, if ha had robbed WiU, 
 it was more than likely he knew where I was 
 from my own letters, or from my address 
 written in a pocketbook my brother always 
 carried, and which was missing. Of course, 
 this conversation made me full, as it were, of 
 Mat ; and that, combined with the unlucky 
 turn affairs had taken with regard to Elsie, 
 made me more nervous than I was inclined 
 to acknowledge to her father. So before I 
 went to bed, which I did at ten o'clock — for I 
 was very tired, being still unaccustomed to 
 much riding — I locked my door carefully, and 
 put the table against it, neither of which 
 things I had ever done before, and which I 
 waa almost inclined to undo at once^for it 
 
t! 
 
 AT THE BLACK OAITON. 
 
 216 
 
 seemed cowardly to me. Yet I thought of 
 Elsie, and, still hoping to win her, I was care- 
 ful of my. life. I went to sleep, in spite of 
 my nervous preoccupation, almost as soon as 
 I lay down, and I suppose I must have been 
 asleep two hours before I woke out of a hor- 
 rible dream. I thought that I was on board 
 ship, in my own berth, lying in the bunk, and 
 that Mat was on my chest strangling me with 
 his long lithe fingers. And all the time I 
 heard, as I thought, the sails flap, as though 
 the vessel had come up in the wind. As I 
 struggled — and I did struggle desperately — 
 the blood seemed to go up into my head and 
 eyes, until I saw the fiend's face in a red 
 light, and then I woke. The house was on 
 fire, and I was being suffocated! As the 
 flames worked in from the outside, and made 
 the scorching timbers crack again and again, 
 I sprang out of bed. I bad lain down with 
 my trousers on, and, seeing at once there 
 must be foul play for the house to catch fire 
 
 
 t i.'ii 
 
 i J 
 
 
 ^'4': 
 
 m 
 
 in 
 
216 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUVEK. 
 
 on the outside, and at the back too, where I 
 never went, I drew on my boots, snatched my 
 revolver up, and leapt at the front window, 
 through which I went with a crash, uttering 
 a loud cry as I did so, for a piece of the glass 
 cut my left arm deeply. As I came to the 
 ground, I saw a horseman in front of me, and 
 by the light of the fire, which had already 
 mounted to the roof of the house, I recognized 
 Siwash Jim. Then, whether it was that the 
 horse he rode was frightened at the crash I 
 made or not, it suddenly bounded into the 
 air, turned sharp round, and bolted into the 
 brush, just where the trail came down from 
 the Black Canon. As Jim disappeared, I 
 fired, but with no effect ; and that my shot was 
 neither returned nor anticipated was, I saw, 
 due to the fact that the villain had dropped 
 his own six-shooter, probably at the first 
 bound of his horse. Just where he had been 
 standing. 
 
 I was in a blind f urj^ of rage, for such a 
 
■ ' '- 
 
 il 
 
 At TH£ BLAOK OAlTON. 
 
 217 
 
 cowardly and treacherous attack on an un- 
 offending man's life seemed hardly credible 
 to me. And there my home was burning, 
 and it was no fault of his that I was not 
 burning with it, or shot dead outside my own 
 door. But he should not escape, if I chased 
 him for a month. I was glad he had been 
 forced to take the trail, for there was no pos- 
 sible outlet to it for miles, so thick was the 
 brush in that mountainous region. Fortu- 
 nately, I now had two horses ; and the one in 
 my stable, which I had only bought from 
 Fleming a week before, was not the one I 
 had been riding all that day. I threw the 
 saddle on him, clinched it up tightly, and led 
 him out. I carried both the weapons, my 
 own and Jim's, and I rode up the narrow and 
 winding path in a blind and desperate fury, 
 which seldom comes to a man, V it when it 
 does it makes him careless of his own life 
 and utterly reckless ; and as I rode, in a 
 fashion I had never done before, even though 
 
 IIP 
 
 f ■ : 
 
 Hi 
 
 
 5 (■..' 
 
 i 
 
218 
 
 THE MATS OF THE VANOOUVBB. 
 
 I trusted a mountain-bred and forest-trained 
 horae, I swore that I myself should die that 
 night, or that Si wash Jim should feel the just 
 weight of my wrath. But before I can tell 
 the terrible story of that terrible night I must 
 return once more, and for the last time, to 
 Thomson Forks. 
 
 I said, some pages back, that attention had 
 been drawn from Siwash Jim and his strange 
 companion by a sudden shriek from Ned 
 Conlan's house. That shriek had been uttered 
 by Helen, who was still staying with Mrs. 
 Conlan, as she and her hostess were standing 
 outside in the dying twilight, and, after 
 screaming, she had fainted, remaining insensi- 
 ble for nearly half ar hour. When Dr. 
 Smith, as he called himself — ^though an 
 Englishman has natural doubts as to how 
 the practitioners in the West earn their 
 diplomas — ^had helped her recovery, she spoke 
 at once in a state of nervous excitement pain- 
 ful to witness. 
 
I ". W^V!^| .. 
 
 v-nT'JJ''?PiP'' 
 
 ■■ 
 
 ▲T THB BLACK OA50N. 
 
 210 
 
 " Oh, I saw him — I saw him I " she said, in 
 an hysterical voice. 
 
 " Who, my dear ? " asked Mre. Conlan, in 
 what people call a comforting way. 
 
 " Where is Mr Conlan ? " was Helen's 
 answer. He came into the room in which 
 she was lying. Helen turned to him at once. 
 
 ** Mr. Conlan, I want you to take me out to 
 my brother-in-law's house — to Mr. Ticehurst's 
 farm!" 
 
 They all exclaimed against her foolishness 
 and demanded why ; while Conlan scratched 
 his head in a puzzled manner. 
 
 *^ I tell you I must see him to-night, and at 
 once I For I saw the man who swore to kill 
 him." 
 
 The bystanders shook their heads sagely, 
 thinking she was mad, but Conlan asked if 
 she meant Siwash Jim. 
 
 '< No," she said, " it was not Jim." But 
 she must go, and she would. With an extra- 
 ordinary ei^hibition of strength, she rose an4 
 
 Pvfl 
 
 ■-! 
 
mm^ 
 
 ^mmmfm^ 
 
 220 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 r 
 
 ordered horses in an imperative tone, saying 
 she was quite well enough to do as she 
 liked. 
 
 Mrs. Conlan appealed to the doctor, and 
 he, perhaps being glad to advise against the 
 opinion of those present, as such a course 
 might indicate his superior knowledge, said 
 he thought it best to let her have her own 
 way. I think, too, that Helen, who seemed 
 to have regained her strength, had regained 
 with it her old power of making people do as 
 she wished. At any rate, Mr. Conlan meekly 
 acquiesced, and, saying he would drive her 
 himself, went out to order horses at once. 
 Wlien the buggy was brought to the door, 
 Helen got up without assistance, and begged 
 him to be quick. His wife, who would never 
 have dared to even suggest his hurrying, 
 stood aghast at seeing her usually master- 
 ful husband do as he was bid. They drove 
 off, leaving Mrs. Conlan to prophesy certain 
 death as the result of this inexplicable ex- 
 
AT THE BLACK OAlTON. 
 
 221 
 
 pedition, while the others speculated, more or 
 less wildly, as to what it all meant. 
 
 Conlan told me that Helen never spoke all 
 the way except to ask how much longer they 
 were going to be, or to complain of the 
 slowness of the pace. 
 
 "Most women," said Ned, "would have 
 been scared at the way I drove, for it was 
 pitch dark ; and if the horses hadn't known 
 the road as well, or better, than I did, we 
 should have come to grief in the first mile. 
 But she never turned a hair. She was a 
 wonderful woman, sir ! " 
 
 It was already past eleven o'clock when 
 they got to the top of the hill just above 
 Fleming's, and from there the light of my 
 house burning could be distinctly seen, 
 although the place itself was hidden by a 
 rise, and Helen pointed to It, nervously 
 demanding vvhat it was. 
 
 "Ticehurst must have been burning 
 brush," said Conlan, offering the very like- 
 
fm 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 lie»t explanation. But Helen said, " No, no," 
 impatiently, and told him to hurry. Just 
 then Conlan remembered that he did not 
 know the road across from Fleming's to my 
 place, and said so. 
 
 "You had better stop at Fleming's, and 
 send for him. They aint in bed yet, ma'am. 
 I see their light." 
 
 "I don't want to see the Flemings; I 
 want Mr. Ticehurst," said Helen obstinately. 
 
 "Well, we must stop at Fleming's," said 
 Conlan, " if it's only to ask the way. I don't 
 know the road, and I'm not going to kill you 
 and myself by driving into the creek such a 
 night as this." 
 
 And Helen was fain to acquiesce, for she 
 could not do otherwise. 
 
 When they reached the house Fanny was 
 standing outside, and as the light from the 
 open door fell on Helen's pallid face, she 
 screamed. 
 
 "Good Heavens, Mrs. Ticehurst i Is it 
 
AT THE BLACK OA!JoN. 
 
 223 
 
 you?" she cried — "and you, Mr. Conlan? 
 Oh, I am so glad ! — father's away, and Mr. 
 Ticehurst's house must be on fire." 
 
 « Ah ! " said Helen, " I thought so. Oh, 
 oh ! he's dead, I know he's dead 1 I must go 
 to him ! Fanny, dear, can you show us the 
 way — can you ? You must ! Perhaps we 
 can save him yet I " 
 
 She frightened Fanny terribly, for her face 
 was so pale and her eyes glittered so, and for 
 a moment the girl could hardly speak. 
 
 " I don't know it by night, Mrs. Ticehurst ; 
 but Elsie does," she said at last. 
 
 " Where is she, then ? " said Helen eagerly. 
 
 " She's gone over there now," cried Fanny, 
 " for father had not come home ; and when 
 we saw the fire, we were afraid something 
 had happened, so Elsie took the black horse 
 and went over. She's there now." 
 
 " Then what shall we do ? '" cried Helen, in 
 an agony, " he will be killed ! " 
 
 "What is it, Mrs. Ticehnrst?" asked 
 
 is ■ 
 1; 
 
 'W' 
 
 
 .1 
 
224 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 Fanny, trembling all over. "Oh, what is 
 it?" 
 
 But she took no notice and sat like a 
 statue, only she breathed hard and heavily, 
 and her hands twitched, as she looked to- 
 ward my burning home, 
 
 "Silence!" sht; cried suddenly, though 
 no one spoke. "There is somebody com- 
 
 ing 
 
 n 
 
 And the three of them looked into the 
 darkness, in which there was a white figure 
 moving rapidly. 
 
 "It is Elsie!" screamed Fsrirf ijyfuUy; 
 and Helen sprang from the buggy, r :id stood 
 in the light, as Elsie exclaimed in wonder at 
 Fanny's excited voice. 
 
 The two women stood face to face, looking 
 in each other's eyes, and then .^Jsie, who for 
 one moment had sh., vvH nothiii^ -Ji surprise, 
 went white with fi^^om and anger. How glad 
 I should ha^ e be^r to have seen her so, or to 
 have learnt, even at that moment when I 
 
At Ttlte BtAOK OAlirON. 
 
 m 
 
 stood in the greatest peril I have ever known, 
 that she had ridden over to save or help me, 
 even though her acts but added a greater 
 danger to those in which I already stood. 
 For her deed and her look were the deed and 
 look of a woman who loves and is jealous. 
 But it might have seemed to me, had I been 
 there, that Helen's coming had overbalanced 
 the scale once more against me, and perhaps 
 for the last time. I am glad I did not know 
 that fear until it was only imagination, and 
 the imaginary canceling of a series of 
 events, that could place me again in such a 
 situation. 
 
 T^ie two women looked at each other, and 
 then Elsie turned away. 
 
 "Stop, stop!" cried Helen; "what has 
 happened ? Where is l^Er. Ticehurst ? "' 
 
 " What is that to you ? " said Elsie cmelly, 
 and with her eyes flaming. 
 
 "Tell us, Elsie," said Fanny implor- 
 ingly. 
 
 t 
 
 S-l 
 
 
 m 
 
226 
 
 THE MATS OF THE VANOOtTVEft. 
 
 [U 
 
 " I will not ! " 3aid her sister — " not to this 
 woman ! Go back, Mr^. Ticehurst ! What 
 are you doing here ? " 
 
 Helen caught her iby the arm, and looked 
 in her face. 
 
 " Girl, I know your thoughts ! " she said ; 
 *'but you are wrong — I tell you, you are 
 wrong I You love him " 
 
 " I do not ! " said Elsie angrily. " I love 
 no other woman's lover ! " 
 
 Surely, though there were two dazed on- 
 lookers, these women were in a state to speak 
 their natural minds. 
 
 " Girl, girl I " said Helen, once more, " I 
 tell you again, you are wrong! You are 
 endangering youi* lover's life. Is he not your 
 lover, or did you go over there to find out 
 nothing? I tell you, I came to save him, 
 and to save him for you — no, not for you, you 
 are not worth it, though he thinks you 
 perfection! You are a wicked girl, and a 
 fool ! Come, come ! why don't you speak ? 
 
 ■K-- 
 
 
AT THE BLACK OAlJON. 
 
 237 
 
 What has IBecome of him ? Is he over there 
 now ? ^ 
 
 Elsie was silent, but yielding. Fanny 
 spoke again. 
 
 " Elsie — Elsie, speak — answer her ! What 
 happened over there, and where is the horse ? " 
 
 Elsie turned to her, as though disdaining 
 to answer Helen. 
 
 " Someone set his house on fire, I think ; 
 perhaps it was Jim, and Mr. Ticehurst has 
 gone after him ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " ^aid Helen, as if relieved, " if that 
 is all ! How did you know he is gone — did 
 you see him, speak to him ? " 
 
 « No," said Elsie ; " I did not ! '' 
 
 " Then how do you know ? " cried Fanny 
 and Helen, together. 
 
 " There was a man there — 
 
 ?> 
 
 Helen cried out as d she were struck, and 
 Elsie paused. 
 
 " Go on ! " the other ciiod — " go on ! *' 
 
 " And when I came up he was sitting h^ 
 
 If 
 
 ill 
 
 m 
 
 ■,;i.t 1 
 
 ''J- 
 
 ¥*1 
 
 m 
 
 ■ Mi <:'■ 
 
 
228 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 the house. I asked him if Mr. Ticehurst was 
 there — 
 
 » 
 
 " Oh, you fool ! " groaned Helen, but only 
 Fanny heard it. 
 
 "And he got up," continued Elsie, "and 
 said there was no one there, but just as he 
 was coming from his camp to see what the 
 fire was, he heard a shot, and when he got to 
 the house he saw somebody just disappear 
 up the trail toward the canon." 
 
 " Did you know him ? " said Helen, as Elsie 
 paused to take breath, for when she b^gan to 
 speak she spo!* 3 rapidly, and, conceal it as 
 she would, it was evident she was in a fearful 
 state of excitement. 
 
 " No," said Elsie ; " but I think I have seen 
 him before." 
 
 " Where is he, then ? " cried Helen, holding 
 her hand to her heart. " Is he there still ? " 
 
 " No," cried Fanny, almost joyfully, " you 
 gave him your horse to go and find Tom, and 
 help him, didn't you, Elsie ? " 
 
 f; *6 ' ■ •r.r jt nB i«hi 'TT; . Ta- i,t » . --r 
 
AT THfi BLACK OAl^tON. 
 
 SS9 
 
 And Helen screamed out in a terrible 
 voice, " No, no ! you did not, you did not — 
 say you did not, girl ! " 
 
 Elsie, who had turned whiter and whiter, 
 turned to her suddenly. 
 
 " Yes, I did," she cried ; " I did give him 
 the horse." 
 
 Helen lifted her hands up over her head 
 with an awful gesture of despair, and fell on 
 her knees, catching hold of both the girls' 
 dresses. But she held up and spoke. 
 
 " Oh, you wretched, unhappy girl ! " she 
 cried. "What have you done — what have 
 you done ? To whom did you give the horse ? 
 I know, I know I I saw him this very night 
 — the man who swore to be revenged on him 
 if it were after a century. The man who 
 nearly killed him once, and who has escaped 
 from prison. You have given him the means 
 of killing your lover — you have given Tom 
 Ticehurst up to Matthias, to a murderer — a 
 murderer 1 " 
 
 
 ''^: 
 
 ■ ??' 
 
 « 
 
 1 
 
 'Am 
 
 ■I iJ 
 III 
 
 fj 
 
280 THE BtA=l'^ Q^ TH^ V4lfQ0i;VEK. 
 
 AQd she fell b^cl^y ^nd this time did not 
 recover herself, but Jay inseusible, etiJl holdiiig 
 the girls' dresses with aa desperate a clutcb 
 m tlwugi she were keepipg back from follow- 
 ing me the man who was upon my track thftt 
 terrible midnight. But Elsie stooped, freed 
 her dress, and saying to Fanny, " See to her— 
 see to her J " ran down to the stable again, 
 just as ber father rode through the higher 
 gftt^. 
 
 And as that girl, who had knpwn bors^i 
 a»d ridden from her childhood, was saddling 
 i|ie first one she qame to in the stable, I WAS 
 riding hard and desperately in the dark 
 bru^b, »ot a quarter of a mile behind Siwash 
 Jim. 
 
 The trail upon which we both were ran 
 from my house straight up into the roountaina 
 for nearly teu miles, and then followed the 
 verge of the Black Canon for more than a 
 mile farther. When I came up to that place 
 
AT THE BLACK OASTON. 
 
 981 
 
 I stayed for one moment, and heard the dull 
 and sullen roar of the broken waters three 
 hundred feet beneath me, and then I rode on 
 again as though I was as ijTesistibly impelled 
 as they were, and was just as bound to cut 
 my way through what Fate had placed 
 before as they had been to carve that narrow 
 and tremendous chasm in the living rock. 
 And at last I came to a fork in the trail. 
 If I had not been there before with Mr. 
 Fleming, I should most likely have never 
 seen Jim that night, perhaps never again. 
 But we had stayed at that very spot. The 
 left-hand fork was the main track, and led 
 right over the mountains into the Nicola 
 Valley ; while the left and disused one, which 
 was pai-tially obliterated by thick-growing 
 weeds, led back through the impassable scrub 
 and rough rocks to the middle of the Black 
 Cafion. I had passed that end of it without 
 thinking, for indeed it was scarcely likely he 
 would have turned off there. The chancei 
 
 m 
 
 Ml 
 
 ^1 -'M 
 
232 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANOOUTER. 
 
 seemed a thousand to one that Jim would 
 take the left-hand path, but just because it 
 did seem so certain, I alighted from my horse 
 and struck a light. The latest horse track 
 led to the right hand ! He had relied on my 
 taking the widest path, and continuing in it 
 until it was too late to catch a man who had 
 so skillfully doubled on me. I had no doubt 
 that his curses at losing his revolver were 
 changed into chuckles, as he thought of me 
 riding headlong in the night, until my horse 
 was exhausted, while he was returning the 
 way I had come. I stopped to think, and 
 then, getting on my horse, I rode back slowly 
 to where the trails joined at the edge of the 
 Cafion. I would wait for him there. And I 
 waited more than half an hour. 
 
 It is strange how such little circumstances 
 alter everything, for not only would Jim's 
 following the Nicola- trail have resulted in 
 something very different, but, waiting half an 
 hour, during which I cooled somewhat and 
 
AT THE BLACK OA^ON. 
 
 233 
 
 lost the first blind rage of passion in which I 
 had set out, set me reflecting as to what I 
 should do. If I had come up with him at 
 full gallop I should have shot him there anu 
 then. He would have expected it, and it 
 would have been just vengeance ; but now I 
 was quietly waiting for him, and to shoot 
 him when he appeared seemed to me hardly 
 less cowardly conduct than his own. Then, 
 if I gave him warning, he would probably 
 escape me, and I was not so generous as to 
 let him have the chance. Yet, in after years, 
 seeing all that followed from what I did, I 
 think I was more generous than just. I ought 
 to have regarded myself as the avenging arm 
 of the law, and have struck as coolly as an 
 executioner. But I determined to give him 
 a chance for his life, though giving him that 
 was risking my own, which I held dear, if 
 only for Elsie's sake; and so I backed my 
 horse into the brush, where I commanded 
 both trails, and, cocking both revolvers, I sat 
 
 '14 
 
 
 Ill 
 
 II 
 
 
234 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 1 1 I 
 
 waiting. In half an hour I heard the tramp 
 of a horse, though at first I could not tell 
 from which way the sound came. But at 
 last I saw that I had been right in my con- 
 jecture, and that my enemy was given into 
 my hands. My heai*t beat fast, but my 
 hands were steady, for I had full command 
 over myself. I waited til he was nearly 
 alongside of me, and then i spoke. 
 
 "Throw up your hands, Siwash Jim!" I 
 said, in a voice that rang out over the roar 
 of the waters below us, " or you are a dead 
 man ! " 
 
 And he threw them up, and as he sat there 
 I could see his horse was wearied out. If it 
 had not been, perhaps my voice would have 
 startled it, and compelled me to fire. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" said he, 
 sullenly peering in my direction, for he could 
 bai'ely see me against my background of trees 
 and brush, whereas I had him against the 
 sky. 
 
AT THE BLACK CA^ON. 
 
 235 
 
 **I will tell you, you miserable scoundrel 1 '* 
 I answered. " But first, get off your horee, 
 and do it slowly, or I will put two bullets 
 through you ! Mind me I " 
 
 He dismounted slowly. 
 
 " Tie your horse to that sapling, if you will 
 be kind enough," I said further ; " and don't 
 be in a hurry about it, and don't attempt to 
 get behind it, or you know what will happen." 
 
 When he had done as I ordered, I spoke 
 again. 
 
 *^ Have you got any matches ? " 
 
 " Yes," he replied. 
 
 **0f course you have, you villain! The 
 same you set my house on fire with. Well, 
 now rake up some brush, aud make a little 
 lire here." 
 
 " What for ? " said he quickly, for I believe 
 he thought for a moment ^ meant to roast 
 him alive. I undeceived him if that was his 
 idea. 
 
 " So that we can see each other," I replied, 
 
 Ml 
 hi 
 
"TT 
 
 236 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANOOUVBE. 
 
 11 
 
 
 " for I'm going to give you a chaace for your 
 life, tbough you don't desei-ve it. Where's 
 your six-shooter ? " 
 
 " I dropped it," he grunted. 
 
 " And I picked it up," said I. " So make 
 haste if you don't want to be killed with 
 your own weapon ! " 
 
 What his thoughts were I can't say, but 
 without more words he set about making a 
 fire^ soon having a vigorous blaze, by which I 
 saw plainly enough the looks of fear, distrust, 
 and hatred he cast at me. But he piled on 
 the branches, though I check i him once or 
 twice when I thought he was going too far 
 to gather them. When there was sufficient 
 light to illuminate the whole space about us 
 and the opposing bank of the canon, I told 
 him that was enough. 
 
 " That will do," I said ; " go and stand at 
 the edge of the cation ! " 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " You're not going to shoot me like a dog, 
 
 { r .jg ' g ^ Jlf iUilMJI LIAL l a WW 
 
AT THE BLACK OAKON. 
 
 237 
 
 
 and put me down there, are you ? " said he, 
 trembling. 
 
 " Like a dog ? " said I passionately ; " did 
 you not try to smother me like a bear in his 
 den, to burn me alive in my own house ? Do 
 as I tell you, or I'll shoot you now and roll 
 your body in the river ! Go ! " 
 
 And he went as I asked him. 
 
 "Have you got any cartridges?" I 
 . demanded. 
 
 He pointed to his belt, and growled that 
 he had plenty. 
 
 "Then stay there, and I will tell you 
 what I will do with you. I am going to 
 empty your revolver, and you can have it 
 when it is empty. I will get off mj horse 
 and then you can load it again, and when I 
 see you have filled it, you can do your best 
 for yourself. Do you hear me ? " 
 
 He nodded his head, and kept his eyes 
 fixed on me anxiously, as though not dar- 
 ing to hope I was going to be so foolish 
 
 i M 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
\(Jr 
 
 d3S 
 
 THE MATE 01* THE VANCOUVEB. 
 
 as my word. But I was, even to the ex- 
 tent of firing his revolver into the air, 
 though I had no suspicion of what I was 
 really doing, nor what such an act would 
 bring about. 
 
 I alighted from my horse, and let him go, 
 for there was no danger of his running away. 
 I even struck him lightly, and sent him up 
 the trail out oi the way of accident ; and then, 
 keeping my own revolver pointed at Jim, who 
 stood like a statue, I raised his in my left 
 hand. I fired, and the repoi-ts rang out over 
 the hills. I threw Siwash Jim his >veapon, 
 paying : 
 
 " Load the chambers slowly, and count as 
 you do so." 
 
 What a fool I was, to be sure, not to have 
 shot him dead and let him lie ! Though I 
 should not have been free from the dangers 
 that encompassed me, yet they would have 
 been fewer, far fewer, and more easily con- 
 tended with. But I acted as Fate would 
 
rfm 
 
 I 
 
 AT THE BLACK CAlJON. 
 
 239 
 
 have, and even as I counted I iieard Jim 
 count too, in a strained, hoarse voice — one, 
 two, three, four, five, six — and he was an 
 armed ma^ again, armed in the light, almost 
 half-way between us, that glittered in his 
 eyes and fell on my face. And it was his life 
 or mine ; his life that was worth nothing, and 
 mine that was precious with the y jssibilitieH 
 of love that I yet knew not, of love that was 
 hurrying toward me even then, side by side 
 , th hate and death. 
 
 When Jim's weapon was loaded, he turned 
 toward me with the baiTel pointed to the 
 ground. His eyes were fixed on mine, fixed 
 with a look of fear and hatred, but hatred 
 now predominated I lowered my own 
 revolver until we both stood on equal 
 terms. 
 
 "Look," said I sternly; "you see that 
 burning branch above the fire. It is already 
 half burnt through ; when it falls, look out 
 for yoursell" 
 
 
240 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 I ! 
 
 And lie stood still, perfectly still, while 
 behind and under him the flood in the canon 
 fretted and roared menacingly, angrily, 
 hungrily, and the sappy branch cracked and 
 cracked again. It was bending, bending 
 slowly, but not yet falling, when Jim threw 
 his weapon rp and fired, treacherous to the 
 last. But his aim was not sure, no surer 
 than mine when I returned his shot. As we 
 both fired again, I felt a sting in my left 
 shoulder, and the branch fell, slowly, slowly — 
 ah ! as slowly as Jim did, for he sank on his 
 knees, rolled over sideways, and slipped back- 
 ward on the verge of the canon, its sloping, 
 treacherous verge. And as ha slipped, he 
 caught a long root disclosed by the falling 
 earth, and with the last strength of life hung 
 on to it, a vard below me. as I ran to the 
 edge, and stopped there, hoiTor-struck. My 
 desire for vengeance was satisfied, more than 
 satisfied, for if I could have restored him to 
 solid ground and life I would have done it, 
 
 W->^W>u.*mma*'.ia^n 
 
AT THE BLACK OAlJON. 
 
 241 
 
 
 and bidden him go his way, so that I saw 
 him no more. For his face was ghastly and 
 horrible to see; his lips disclosed his teeth 
 as he breathed through them convulsively, 
 and his nostrils were widely distended. I 
 knelt down and vainly reached out my hands. 
 But he was a yard below me, and to go half 
 that distance meant death for me as well. I 
 knelt there and saw him fail gradually ; his 
 eyes closed and opened again and again ; he 
 caught his lower lip between his teeth and 
 bit it through and through, and then his 
 head fell back, his hands relaxed, and he was 
 gone. And I heard the sullen plunge of his 
 body as it fell three hundred feet into the 
 waters below. I remained still and motion- 
 less for a moment. What a thing man was 
 that he should do such deeds I I rose, and a 
 feeling of sorrow and remorse for this terri- 
 ble death of a fellow-creature made me 
 stagger. I put my hand to my brow, and 
 then peered over the edge of the cafion. 
 
 ■ ^ 
 
 '1 
 
242 
 
 THK MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 What was I looking for? Was I looking 
 into the river of Fate ? I took my revolver 
 and threw it into the cafion, that it should 
 slay no other man. As it fell it struck a 
 projecting rock, and, exploding, the echoes in 
 the narrow space roared and thundered up 
 the gorge toward the east, where, Just beyond 
 the mountains, the first faint signs of rosy 
 dawn were wiitten upon the heavens. Was 
 that an omen of peace and love to me, of a 
 fairer, brighter day? I lifted my heart 
 above and prayed it might be so. But it was 
 yet night, still dark, and the darkest hour is 
 before the dawn, for as I turned my back to 
 the canon and stepped across to the fire which 
 had lighted poor, foolish, ignorant Jim to his 
 death, I looked up, and saw before me the 
 thin face I feared more than all others, and 
 the wicked eyes of my escaped 'enemy, 
 Matthias of the Vancouver. 
 
 I have never believed myself a coward, for 
 I have faced death too often, and but a few 
 
 mi 
 
wmmtm 
 
 1 
 
 Af TUB Bl^ACK OAKoIT. 
 
 949 
 
 Biinutesi ^go I lind risked my life in a manner 
 wWqIi few men woujd Ijave imitated; but 
 I qonfe^a ttftt in tte horrible surprise of 
 tbftt moment, in the strange unexpectedneBs 
 gf this sudden and most unlooked-for appear* 
 anoe, I was stricken dumb and motionless, 
 and stood glaiing at him with opened eyes, 
 while my heart's blood ran cold. For I was 
 unanned, by my own aet of revulsion and 
 remorse; and woun<^ed too, for I oould feel 
 the blood trickle slowly from my shoulder 
 that had been deeply scored by the second 
 bullet from Jim's revolver. And I was in 
 the same position that I had put him In, in a 
 clear spac^ with thick brush on both sides, 
 through which there wfts no escape, and in 
 which there was no shelter but a single tree 
 
 to the left of the blading ^r^^ which was al- 
 i«#ady gradually crawling in the dry brush, 
 Surely I waa4elivered into my enemy's hands, 
 
 for he was armed and carried a revolver, 
 
 Qtt whose bright bftvi'el the flr« glinted 
 
 I 41 
 
 If 
 
 1 .^r 
 
 
 a 
 
 m 
 
 
 i JTJ 
 
 ■ ... -"H 
 
344 
 
 THE MATS OF THE VANOOUVEB. 
 
 harshly. How long we stood facing each 
 other I cannot say, but it seemed hours. If 
 he had but fired then, he might have killed 
 me at once, for I was unable to move ; but 
 he did not desire that, I could see he did not, 
 as his hot eyes devoured me and gleamed 
 with a light of savage joy and triumph. He 
 spoke at last, and in a curiously quiet voice, 
 that was checked every now and again with 
 a sort of sob which made me shiver. 
 
 " Ah I Mr. Ticehurat," he said slowly, "you 
 know me ? You look as if you did. I am 
 glad you feel like that. You are afraid 1 " 
 
 I looked at him and answei^d : 
 
 "It is a lie!" 
 
 And from that time forward it was a lie, 
 for I feared no more. 
 
 "No," he said, " I think not; you are pale, 
 and just now you shook. I dou't shake, even 
 after what I have been through. Look at 
 mel" 
 
 He pointed his weapon at me, and his 
 
 Biii 
 
AT THE BLACK CAKON. 
 
 246 
 
 hand was as steady as a rock. He lowered it 
 again and stroked the barrel softly with his 
 lean left hand. 
 
 " '7ou remember what I said to you," he 
 went on, " don't you, Thomas Ticehui-st ? I 
 do, and I have kept my word. Ah ! I have 
 thought of this many times, many times. 
 They tortured me and treated me like a dog 
 in the jail you sent me to; they beat me, 
 and kicked me, and starved me, but I never 
 complained, lest my time there should be 
 longer. And when I lay down at night I 
 thought of the time when I should kill you. 
 I knew it would come, and it has. But just 
 now, when I saw you by the side of your 
 own grave, looking down, I didn't know 
 whether it was you or the other man, and I 
 thought perhaps he had killed you. If it 
 had been he, I would have killed him." 
 
 He paused, and I still stood there with 
 a flood of thoughts rushing through me. 
 What should I do ? If he had taken his eyes 
 
 ■ n 
 
 ifttii 
 
246 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 off mine for but one single moment I would 
 have sprung on him; but he did not, and 
 while he talked, I heard the horses champing 
 their bits in the brush. And crudest of all, 
 my own horse moved, and put his head 
 through the branches and looked at me. 
 Oh, if I were only on his back ! But I did 
 not speak. 
 
 "How shall I kill you?" said Matthias 
 at last; "I would like to cut you to 
 pieces ! " 
 
 He paused again, and then another horse 
 that I had not yet seen moved on the other 
 side of the trail where he had come up. It 
 had heard the others, and I knew it must be 
 the animal he had ridden. It came out of 
 the brush into the light of the fire, and I 
 knew it was Elsie's. My heart gave a tre- 
 mendous leap, and then stood still. How had 
 he become possessed of it ? I spoke, and in a 
 voice I could not recognize as my own, so 
 hoarse and terrible it was, 
 
 liMiiiiii 
 
1 
 
 A* THE BLACK OAfJON. 
 
 ^47 
 
 ** How did you get that white horse, you 
 villian ? " I asked. 
 
 He looked at me fiercely without at first 
 seeing how he could hurt me, and then a look 
 of beast-like, cruel cunning came into his 
 eyes. - 
 
 " Ah ! " said he, " I knew her I It wati 
 your girPs horse ! How did I get it ? Per- 
 haps you would like to know? You will 
 never see her again — never ! Where is she 
 now — where ? " 
 
 He knew as little as I did, but the way he 
 spoke, and the horrible things he put into his 
 voice, made me boil with fuiy. 
 
 " You are a lying dog I " I cried, though 
 he had said nothing that I should be so 
 wrathful. He grinned diabolically, seeing 
 how he had hurt me, and then laughed loud 
 in an insulting, triumphant manner. It was 
 too much, and I made one tremendous bound 
 across the fire, and landed within three feet 
 of him. He fired at the same moment, and 
 
 H 
 
 I i-i 
 
 i 
 
 i l] 
 
 il 
 
 J 
 
 wi^ki 
 
248 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 I ii 
 
 whether he had wounded me or not I did 
 not know; but the revolver went spinning 
 two yards off, and we grappled in a death- 
 hug. 
 
 I have said that Siwash Jim was a hard 
 man to beat, but whether it was that I was 
 weak with my wound or not, I found Mat- 
 thias, who was mad with hate and fuiy, the 
 most terrible antagonist I had ( vev tackled. 
 He was as slippery as an eel, as lithe as a 
 snake, and withal his grip was like that of 
 a steel trap. Yet if I could but prevent him 
 drawing his knife, which was at his belt, I 
 did not care. I was his match if not in 
 agility, at least in strength, and I would 
 never let him go. We were for one moment 
 still, after we grappled, and I trust I shall 
 never see anything that looks more like a 
 devil than his eyes, in which the light of the 
 fire shone, while he gnashed his teeth and 
 ground them until the foam and saliva oozed 
 out of his mouth like a mad dog^s venom. 
 
AT THE BLACK OAI^ON. 
 
 249 
 
 His forehead was seamed and wiinkled, his 
 cheeks were sucked in and then blown out 
 convulsively, and his whole aspect was more 
 hideous than that of a beast of prey. And 
 then the struggle began. 
 
 At first it was a trial of strength, for 
 although I was so much the bigger, he knew 
 his own power and the force of his iron 
 nerves, and he hoped to overcome me thus. 
 We reeled to and fro, and t\7ice went 
 through the fire, where I once held him for 
 an instant with a malicious joy that was 
 short-lived, for the pain added to his 
 strength, and he forced me backward, until 
 I struck the trunk of the tree a heavy blow. 
 Then we swayed hither and thither, for I 
 had him by the right wrist and the left 
 shoulder, not daring to alter my grip on his 
 right hand, lest he should get his knife. He 
 held me in the same way, and at last we 
 came to the very verge of the canon, and 
 spurned the tracks that Jim had made in his 
 
 i*!| 
 
 ^■1 
 
if 
 
 I 
 
 'li) '■>] 
 
 i i; 
 
 I 
 
 m 'I 
 
 I 
 
 111 
 
 950 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 agony. For a moment I thought he would 
 throw us both in, but he had not lost hope. 
 If he had, that moment would have been my 
 last. In another second we had staggered to 
 the fire, and he tried all his strength to free 
 his right hand. At last, by a sudden wrench 
 he did it, and dropped his fingers like light- 
 ning on his knife, just as I bent his left wrist 
 over, and struck him in the face with his 
 own clenched hand We both went down; 
 his knife ripped my shoulder by the very 
 place that Jim's bullet had struck, and we 
 rolled over and over madly and blindly, 
 bunij'ng ourselves on the scattered embers, 
 tearing ourdeives on the jagged roots and 
 am 11 branches, which we smashed, as I 
 strove to dash him en the ground, and he 
 straggled to free his arm, which I had 
 gripped above the elbow, to end the battle at 
 one blow. But though he once drove the 
 point more than an inch into the biceps, and 
 three times cut me deeply, he did not injure 
 
 
 V. ! 
 
AT THE BLACK OASON. 
 
 351 
 
 I 
 
 any nerve so a» to paralyse the limb. And 
 yet I felt that I was becoming insensible, so 
 tremendous was the strain and the excite- 
 ment, and I felt that I must make a last 
 effort, or die. Somehow we rose to our 
 knees, still grappling, and if I looked a tithe 
 as horrible as he did, covered with blood, 
 saliva, and sweat, I must have been horrible 
 to see. We glared in each other's eyes for one 
 moment, and then, loosing my hold on his 
 left arm, I caught his right wrist with both 
 hands. With his freed hand he struck me 
 with all his remaining strength full in the 
 face while I twisted his right wrist with a 
 force that should have broken it, but which 
 only compelled him to relinquish the bloody 
 piece of steel. And then we rolled over 
 again, and lay locked in each other's arms. 
 There was a moment's truce, for human 
 nature could not stand the strain. But I 
 think he believed I was beaten, and at his 
 mercy, for he was on top of me, lying half 
 
252 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVEIi. 
 
 I ! IW 
 
 II ! 
 
 ! II 
 
 across ray breast, with his face not six inches 
 from mine. He spoke in a horrible voice, 
 that shook with hate and pain and triumph. 
 
 " I've got you now — and I'll kill you, as I 
 did your brother ! " 
 
 Great God ! then it was he who had done 
 it, after all. Better had it been for him to 
 have held his peace, for that word roused me 
 again as nothing else could have done, and I 
 caught his throat with both hands, though 
 he struck me viciously. I held him as he lay 
 on top of me, and saw him die. Then I 
 knew no mor« for a little while, and as I lay 
 there insensible, I still bled. 
 
 What was it that called me to myself? 
 Whether it was that my soul had gone out 
 to meet someone, and returned in triumph, 
 for I awoke with a momentary feeling of 
 gladness ; or whether it was an unconscious 
 effort of the brain, in the presence of a new 
 and terrible danger, I cannot say. All I 
 know is that, when that spasm of joy passed, 
 
AT THE BLACK OAKON^ 
 
 263 
 
 I felt weak and unable to move under the 
 weight of Matthias, whose protruding eyes 
 and tongue mocked at me hideously in death, 
 as though his revenge was even now being 
 accomplished; and I saw the fiery brush 
 creeping across the space that lay between 
 me and the fire Jim had kindled at my bid- 
 ding. Was I to die by fire at the last, when 
 that horrible night was passing and the 
 dawn was already breaking on the eastern 
 horizon? For I could not stir, my limbs 
 were like lead, my heart beat feebly, and my 
 feet were cold. I lay glaring at the fire, and, 
 as I did so, I saw that the revolver I had 
 struck out of Matthias's hand was lying as 
 far from the fire as the fire was from me. 
 How is it that there is such a clear intellect 
 at times in the very presence of death ? I 
 saw then that the shots I had fired from that 
 weapon had brought my enemy up just in 
 time, for otherwise he might have been 
 wearied out or lost ; and now I thought if I 
 
264 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 could only get to it, to fire it, I might thus 
 bring help : for what enemies had I left now 
 save the crawling fire ? I might even bring 
 Elsie. But then, how did the dead villain 
 who lay across me, choking me still, get her 
 horse, and what had happened to her in his 
 hands ! I tried to scream, and I sighed as 
 softly as the vague wind which was impel- 
 ling the slow fires toward me. How near 
 they came ! — ^how near — and nearer yet, like 
 serpents rearing their heads, spitting vi- 
 ciously as they came ? And then I thought 
 how slow they were ; why did they not come 
 and end it at once, and let me die ? And I 
 looked at the fires again. They were within 
 two feet of me, I could feel the heat, and 
 within eighteen inches of the revolver. I 
 was glad, and watched it feverishly. But 
 then the weapon's muzzle was pointed almost 
 at me. Suppose it exploded, and shot me 
 dead as it called for help ! How strange it 
 was I I put up my hands feebly and tried 
 
AT THE BLACK CARoN. 
 
 255 
 
 to move the dead body, so as to screen my- 
 self. I might as well have tried to uproot a 
 tree, for I could barely move my bands. I 
 looked at the fire again as it crawled on and 
 on, now wavering, now staying one moment 
 to lift lip its thousand little crests and 
 vicious eyes, and then stooping to lick up the 
 grass and the dried brush on which I lay. 
 But as I glared at it intently, at last it 
 reached the weapon, and coiled round it 
 triumphantly a« though that had been its 
 goal, licking it round and round. Would 
 the flames heat the cartridges enough, and if 
 they . did, where would the bullets go ? I 
 asked that deliriously, for I was in a fever, 
 and instead of being cold at heart, the blood 
 ran through me like fire. I thought I began 
 to feel the fire that was so close to me. I 
 heard the explosion of the heated weapon. 
 I was yet alive. " Come, Elsie ! come, if 
 you are not dead — come and save me — 
 come I " I thought I cried out loudly, but 
 
 
I 
 
 i 
 
 m 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 not even her ear, that heard a sharper sound 
 afar, could have caught that. Once more and 
 once again the cai*tridges fired, and I heard a 
 crash, saw a horse burst like a flame through 
 the black brush, and there was a white thing 
 before my eyes. I looked up and saw Elsie, 
 my own true love after all, and then I 
 fainted dead away, and did not recover until 
 long, long after. 
 
 I ask myself sometimes even now, when 
 those hours that were burnt into my soul 
 return to my sight like an old brand coming 
 out on the healed flesh when it is struck 
 sudden and sharply, whether, after all, my 
 enemy had been balked of his revenge. To 
 die one death and go into oblivion is the lot 
 of all who face the rising sun, and, after a 
 while, veil their ejes when its last fires sink 
 in the western sea. But I suffered ten 
 thousand deaths by violence, by cruel ambush 
 and torture, by crawling flames and flashing 
 knives in the interval between my rescue and 
 
 msM 
 
 mtm 
 
AT THE BLACK OAlTON. 
 
 267 
 
 my recovery from the fever that my wounds 
 and the horror of it all brought upon me. 
 They told me — Elsie herself told me — that I 
 lay raviog only ten days; but it seemed 
 incredible to me, as I shook my head in a 
 vague disbelief that made them fear for my 
 reason. If I had been in the care of strangers 
 who were unfamiliar to me, I might have 
 thought myself a worn-out relic of some dead 
 and buried era, whose monuments had 
 crumbled slowly to ashes in the very fires 
 through which my soul had passed, shrieking 
 for the forgetful dead I had loved. But 
 though I saw her only vaguely like a spirit 
 in clouds, or knew her, without sight as I lay 
 half unconscious, as a beneficent presence 
 only, I grew gradually to feel that Elsie, who 
 still lived after the centuries of my delirium, 
 loved me with the passion I had felt for her. 
 I say had felt, for I was like a child, and my 
 desire for her was scarcely more than a 
 pathetic longing for tenderness of thought 
 
258 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 and touch, until the great strength which had 
 been my pride returned in a flood and 
 brought passion with it once more. 
 
 How strangely that came to pass which 
 I had foretold in my last talk with Elsie I 
 I had said, angrily — for I was angered — 
 that she should one day speak to me, though 
 she swore she would not, and that she should 
 implore my pardon. And she did it, she who 
 had been so strong and self-contained, in the 
 meekest and dearest way the thoughts of a 
 maiden could devise. And then she asked 
 me if I would marry her? Would I marry 
 h(i' ? I stared at her in astonishment, not at 
 her asking, for it seemed the most, natural 
 thing in the world for her to do, but at the 
 idiocy of the tjuestion. " I do believe you 
 love me, Elsie," I said at last, " for I have 
 heard that love makes the most sensible 
 people quite stupid. If you were in your 
 right senses, dear, you would not have asked 
 it ^" 
 
^mmmmm'^ 
 
 AT THE BLACK OAlJON. 
 
 ^59 
 
 " I should think not, indeed ! " she broke 
 in. But she smiled tenderly. 
 
 "Because you know very well that I 
 settled that long enough ago, on board the 
 Y<mc(mver,^'' I said stoutly. 
 
 "Then I had no voice in it?" Elsie 
 said. 
 
 " Not the least, I assure you ! I made up 
 my mind." 
 
 " And so did I," said Elsie, softly. 
 
 " What do you mean, dear ? " 
 
 She leant her head against my shoulder, 
 and against my big beard, and whis- 
 pered : 
 
 . " I made up my mind, dear Tom, that if 
 you didn't love me, I would never love any- 
 one else, but go and be a nun or a nurse all 
 my life. And that's why I was so hard, you 
 know ! " 
 
 Yes, I knew that well enough. 
 
 And where was Helen, meantime ? I am 
 
S60 
 
 THE MATE OP THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 drawing so near the end of my story tliat 
 I must say what I have to in a few words. 
 She had remained at the ranch until the 
 doctor had declared I was going to recover 
 (it was no fault of his that I did), and then 
 she went away. What she told Elsie I have 
 never ^ nown, nor shall I ever ask ; but they 
 parted good friends — yes, the best of friends 
 — and she returned home to Melbourne. I 
 never saw her again, at least not to my 
 knowledge, although once, when Elsie and I 
 were both in that city — for I returned to my 
 profession — I thought, nay, for the moment I 
 made sure, that she had come to know of our 
 presence there. For Elsie had presents of 
 fruit and flowers almost every day she was at 
 Melbourne. I part with her now with a 
 strange regret, and somehow I have never 
 confessed to anyone that I was very vexed 
 at her not waiting until I was well enough 
 to recognize her before she went. For, you 
 Qee, she loved me^ 
 
 iflB 
 
AT THE BLACK OA!ToN. 361 
 
 But — and this is the last — the time came 
 when I was able to go out with Elsie and 
 Fanny, and though we rode slowly, it did not 
 need rapid motion to exhilarate me when she 
 was by my side. As for Fanny, she used to 
 lose us in the stupidest way, just as if she 
 had not been brought up in the bush, and 
 been able to follow a trail like a black fellow. 
 But when Harmer came out on Sundays, it 
 was we who lost them, for Fanny used to go 
 off at full speed, while Jack, who never got 
 used to a horse for many months, used to 
 risk his neck to keep up with her. Then she 
 used to annoy him at night by offering him 
 the softest seat, which he stoutly refused, 
 preferring to suffer untold tortures on a 
 wooden stool, rather than confess. But I 
 don't think they will ever imitate us, who 
 got married at last in the autumn at 
 Thomson Forks. I invited almost every- 
 one I knew to the wedding, and I made Mac 
 my chief man, much to Jack's disgust. I 
 
 I I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
262 
 
 THE MATE OF THE VANCOUVER. 
 
 would even have invited Montana Bill, but 
 he was lying in the hospital with a bullet in 
 his shoulder; while Hank Patterson could 
 not come on account of the police wanting 
 him for putting it there. But half the 
 population of the Forks had bad headaches 
 next day ; and if I didn't have to wear my 
 right hand in a sling on account of the 
 shaking it got, it was because I was as strong " 
 as ever. The only man who looked unhappy 
 was Mr. Fleming, and he certainly had a 
 right to be miserable, considering that I had 
 robbed him of his housekeeper, leaving him 
 to the tender mercies of flighty Fanny. 
 And she was so vicious to poor Jack that he 
 actually dared to say to me, " that if Elsie 
 had the temper of her sister, he was sorry 
 for me, and that it was a pity Siwash Jim and 
 Mat had made a mess of it." When I 
 rebuked him, he said merrily, " he guessed it 
 was a free country, and not the poop of the 
 Y<mc(yimerr So I let him alone, being quite 
 
AT THE BLACK OAlTON. 
 
 263 
 
 convicced then, and I have never changed 
 my opinion since, though we have been 
 married almost five years, that Elsie 
 Ticehurst is the best wife a man ever had, 
 and worth fighting for, even against the 
 world. 
 
 THE END 
 
MRS, WiMSLOWS 
 
 \ Soothing 
 
 Slynup 
 
 
 FOR mULDREM 
 TEETHiMQ, 
 
 Greatly facilitates the process of teetliing by soften- 
 ing the gums and reducing all inflammation. Will 
 almy mn paSxa and spasmodic action, and Is 
 
 Sure fe Regulmte the Bowmism 
 
 Depend upon It, mothers. It will givo rest to yourselves and 
 
 RbIM und Hoahh io yom* inianism 
 
 We have put up and sold this artlcl? for over sixty years, and can say in confi- 
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 This valuable preparation has been t mm d with umwmm - tmttinu 
 In thustmmudm o€ O/^mum* It not only relieves the child 
 
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 invSgormtos the Siotnaoh and Boweiam 
 
 MRS. WINSLOW'S SOOTHING SYRUP corrects acidity and gives 
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 In the bowels ana wind colic. We believe it thm bmmi mnd muMtmi 
 fWU9d(jf in the world in all cases of 
 
 DiarHtma in Qhttdrw^, 
 
 whether arising from teething or any other cause. 
 
 We would say to every mother who has a child sneering from any of the 
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 K^nrn ganuln^i <mlo«i* ihm tmo-mlmUm of OUltTIS A 
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 ksf OM/gglt^o ilii'ougihoui tho wofIA 
 
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 tWEV M nK,n9 ING SYRUP the Best Remedy to use 
 
 for their children ttufitBg tho TootStlng gtOflottm 
 
The Hair: 
 
 Its Growth, Structure, Diseases, 
 and How to MaKe it Beautiful 
 
 *••>»«<» 
 
 . i 
 
 In all parts of the civilized \vorld the hair is re- 
 garded as essential to beauty. Even the earliest 
 
 records of ancient history tell 
 of the importance of the hair as 
 an accessory to human beauty. 
 No matter how perfect the fea- 
 tures, if a good head of hair is 
 lacking, the thought of beauty 
 vanishes. On the other hand, 
 when the features are far from 
 perfect a beautiful growth of 
 hair at once draws the atten- 
 tion, and all else is forgotten. 
 Tf your hair is already beau- 
 tiful, you should read these 
 pages in order to know how 
 best to keep it so ; and if it is 
 too thin, or is falling out, or 
 losing its natural color, or un- 
 desirably affected in any way, 
 then you certainly should learn 
 how to correct these evils. 
 
 A HAIB. A hair consists of 
 two parts. The root, which is 
 situated in the skin, and the 
 shaft, which projects above it. 
 The hair rests in a sac, from 
 which it is easily pulled. At 
 is a little eminence called the 
 
 
 ▲ HAIR ZIV XT8 SAC. 
 
 A, the shaft of the hair pro- 
 fecting above the skin. B> oil 
 
 ?:landa. C> the lower end of 
 he sac in the center of which 
 is the hair bulb. 
 
 the bottom of this sac 
 hair bulb. 
 
 if 
 I 
 
 ji 
 
 :!H, 
 
!r': 
 
 THE HAIR WIM, Here is the very seat of life lor the 
 hair. Here it begii.j its growth. Hexe the food 
 brought to it ^y the blood is changed 
 into hair strn^ur**. Here is where 
 health for the £air resides, and here 
 §0 where disease begins. It is not 
 ilittnge, then, that we should study 
 t!^ hair with great ca** If we were 
 ask^d the jtiestion, ' What part of 
 the .lair duos your jtenewer most 
 affectr"* we would quickly answer, 
 
 It 
 
 *• TH« HAIR BULB. 
 
 It goes to the very seat of trouble, 
 and corrects diseased conditions. It 
 stimulates the parts to healthy action. 
 It restores activities long at rest, 
 a word, our Renewer makes this hair 
 bulb do precisely the work nature 
 intended it to do. 
 
 The illustration shows a minute 
 blood-vessel entering and leaving a 
 hair bulb. Hall's K.Mr Renewer in- 
 creases the circulation of the blood j^^ 
 in these minute vessels, and new life a hair buib.Wghiv 
 and vitality enter each hair. New "'f"/^!**-,.^*^!,™ 
 hair is formed again, by arousing the tering aud leuviag 
 sleeping powers, and the bald scalp *^* ^^^^' 
 takes on a new growth of hair. There are a hundred 
 things, any one of which will retard or destroy the 
 activity of these bulbs. The principal reason, how- 
 ever, why they cease to form good hair is want of 
 proper nourishment. How can a child grow if it is 
 not properly fed ? How can a plant prosper if it does 
 not have water ? And, in the same sense, how can 
 hair be formed and grow unless it has food ? Hall's 
 Vegetc >le Sicilian Hair Renewer contains just the 
 vegetaole remedies needed by the bulb for the forma- 
 tion ' < the hair and for its continued life and vigor. 
 Wh' ^ these are supplied the hair must grow; it 
 j^ „ prosper. It cant^ot help doing so any more 
 than a properly fed, healthy child can keep from 
 growing. 
 
 If there is any life remaining in the bulb, hair must 
 
be formed wlien our Renewer is used. But if all life 
 is gone, then, of course, there is no hope. Often, 
 however, there is a little spark of vitality left, which 
 will kindle into full life under this treatment. A 
 flower may wither and appear quite dead, and yet 
 come into life again, when properly cared for. Hence 
 no case of baldness need be so bad that a trial should 
 not be made of our Renewer. 
 
 SOFT FUZZY HAIR. In keeping ^ith these facts, is it 
 possible to cause a good healthy growth of hair in the 
 place of soft fuzzy hair? Most certainly. This kind 
 of hair shows that the hair bulb is not pioperly fed. 
 There is enough life and food to form a small and fine 
 hair, but not enough for a full , natural hair. Our Re- 
 newer supplies the deficiency and nature does the rest. 
 
 BALDNESS. How utterly foolish, then, for any one to 
 say that " baldness cannot be cured." Just as reason- 
 able to say that water will not quench thirst, or that 
 fire will not burn I Make the conditions correct and 
 the result must come. No single fact is better Cfstab- 
 lished than that our Renewer will cure baldness. We 
 have freely given you the scientific reasons for this ; 
 and we have thousands of testimonials to prove that 
 we are correct. 
 
 Mrs. G. A. Matthews, of Weatherford, Texas, gives 
 us the following strong testimonial : 
 
 "A8 a testimonial to your Hall's Sicilian Hair Renewer, I 
 want to say, when I was about 22 years old I lost my hair en- 
 tirely ; X had the best medical treatment at home, and consulted 
 physicians personally in St. Louis, Chicago, Cincinnati, and 
 Fort Worth v/ith no success. By accident I got some of your 
 medicine, and before I had used tvvo bottles my hair began to 
 ffrow, which now bangs below my waist, and is soft and healthy. 
 My misfortune was so well known in Missouri, California, and 
 Texas that, when it became known my hair had grown out after 
 twelve years, my husband had numerous letters of inquiry want- 
 ing his receipt and offering to pay largely for it. We simply 
 replied to all, 'Hall's Vegetable Sicilian Hair Renewer did the 
 work,' and I know of no case that it has failed to give the best 
 results You may use such parts of this as suits you best." 
 
 Solon S. Good, of the "Enquirer," Cincinnati, O., 
 wrote us, May 25, 1897°. 
 
 **Many years ago, the writer, who had lost almost all his hair, 
 had restored to him a luxuriant gjowth of liair by the use of 
 *H«ill'9 Vegetable Sicilian Hair Renewer.' " 
 
 in 
 
 
! \ 
 
 A. A. Harper, florist, of Pine Bluff, Ark., wrote ais 
 follows, March 31, 1896: 
 
 "Some time since I had a hard case of fever and was sick for 
 ■even weeks. When I began to mend my hair came out and left 
 me entirely bald. I used one bottle of Hall's Hair Renewer fl.ud 
 my hair came back as thick as ever. I consider Hall*9 Hair 
 Renewer the finest of hair preparations." 
 
 Mr. Kesling, an aged farmer, near Warsaw, Ind., had scarcely 
 any hair, what little remained being nearly white. One bottle 
 of Hall's Hair Renewer produced a thick and luxuriant £[rowth 
 of hair, as brown and fresh as he had in youth. The case is well 
 known and attracted much attention. 
 
 FALUMG OF THE HAIB. This is no more than beginning 
 baldness. It may cease before all the hair falls out 
 or continue until complete baldness results. While 
 there are many causes of this difficulty, yet, so far as 
 we know, there is but one cure, Hall's Sicilian Hair 
 Renewer. Its prompt use will check the hair from 
 coming out, and you do not have to continue the 
 remedy long. 
 
 It is important that you should not neglect this 
 symptom, or soon the hair bulbs will become dis- 
 eased. Taken in time, it is easily cured, but if 
 neglected the cure is not so prompt. One bottle of 
 our Renewer at first will save the use of many bottles 
 later on. No one need feel badly over tijis falling of 
 the hair if within reach of our Renewer, as the cure 
 is prompt and permanent. 
 
 Mrs, Katie McNamara, of Corsicana, Texas, writes: 
 
 "I wish to assure you that your Renewer is worth its weight 
 in gold to me. My hair was falling out so badly, and I had 
 tried so many different things, but without avail. I will now 
 rever tire in praising its merits." 
 
 Mrs. A. T. Wall, of Greenfield, Cheshire, England, 
 
 writes : 
 
 "I have derived the greatest benefit from the use of Hall's 
 ilair Renewer. It stimulated my scalp when the hair was fall- 
 ing and produced new and vigorous growth." 
 
 Mrs. Hunsberry, 344 Franklin Avenue, Brooklyn, 
 
 N. Y., writes: 
 
 "After a severe attack of erysipelas in the head, I lost mv 
 hair — already gray — so rapidly that I soon became quite bald. 
 One bottle of Hall's Vegetable Sicilian Hair Renewer produced 
 6 aew growth of hair, as soft, brown, and thick as when I wa« A 
 girl." 
 
 MHUH 
 
njT^ 
 
 W. C. Hauser, of the firm of Wm. C. & J. O. 
 Hauser, dealers in drugs, medicines, etc., Wadley, 
 Ga., writes us Nov. 27, 1896, as follows: 
 
 "I have used ^our Hair Renewer for the pnrpose of stopping 
 tny hair from failing out and can state that I found it to be thb 
 thing needed. About one year ago my hair began to :^all out 
 very badly. Having some of your Renewer in stock, I used a 
 bottle, and since then have had no trouble on that line. I find, 
 too, that your Renew«r restores the hair to its natural color." 
 
 TO DESTOkV COLOA. A word concerning the reason 
 why our Renewer changes the color of the hair to its 
 natural appearance. The color of the hair is deter- 
 mined while it is yet in the skin. When the blood 
 supply is wrong or the nerve action deficient, then 
 no coloring matter will be furnished, and the hair 
 turns gray or white. When the hair '3 first beginning 
 to turn it imparts a most lifeless aul a 'together dis- 
 agreeable expression to the whole coux.tenance. 
 
 Hall's Sicilian Hair Renewer goes to the root of 
 the evil. It feeds the hair bui,bs, increases the 
 BLOOD SUPPLY, and it stimulates nerve action. The 
 coloring matter is deposited, and the color of youth 
 again appears in the hair. All this is thus easily 
 understood when the explanation is given. We have 
 a vast number of testimonials on this point. We can 
 only give a few of them here. 
 
 Alfred Speer, of Passaic, N."J.,''says: 
 
 "I am now 68 years old, and have used your Renewer for 25 
 years with perfect success in keeping the hair natural in color, 
 even when, fifteen years ago. my beard turned gray and of late 
 years turned white by long neglecting to use the Renewer. 
 Upon re-using it daily for onl / a v/eek, the white color was dis- 
 pelled and the natural brown •» :/ugbt back." 
 
 William Kale, of Grand Rapids, Mich., writes as 
 
 follows : 
 
 "I have been using your Hair Renewer for about two weeks, 
 and will say that it has done me more good than anything I have 
 ever trierf before. It has restored the white and gray hair to its 
 natural color, and I think has already started the new hair to 
 grow." 
 
 Randolph W. Farley, Nashua, N. H., quite a >oung man, 
 whose hair had become prematurely gray, applied our Renewer 
 with perfect success. His hair ia now a beautiful brown, an 5 
 he reports the effects from the< use of this preparation pa truly 
 marvelous. 
 
DAMDBVFP. Hall's Hair Renewer removes all dan- 
 drufif and so treats the scalp that its formation is pre- 
 vented. In time a positive cure is effected, and che Re- 
 newer need not longer be used. Without doubt there 
 is no other remedy in the whole world so effectual cs 
 this Renewer in the treatment and permanent cure of 
 dandruff. As dandruff is not only a sign of a diseased 
 scalp, but also a forerunner of baldness, so the impor- 
 tance of treating it is at once evident. We offer you a 
 positive cure for it, and verify our statement with a 
 few testimonials to that effect, although we might 
 duplicate these a thousand times. 
 
 R. M. Tucker, M.D., of Helena, Ala., writes us the 
 following : 
 
 "I baye used Hall*8 Hair Renewer for tit? last thirty-five 
 years and I know it will do all that it is recommended to do. 
 It will restore the color, cuRS dandhupf, and prevent the hair 
 from falling out. I believe I "would today be bald-headed and 
 gray if it had not been for the ntte of Hall's Hair P.enewer. It 
 will certainly restore the color and I don't hesitate to recom- 
 mend it." 
 
 A letter from J. A. Kelley, of Antoine, Ark., April 
 i8, 1896, says: 
 
 ''My hair began falling out very fast, and I believe I wonld 
 have been perfectly bald, but I used, two bottles of Hall's Hahr 
 Renewer, and it not only checked the falling out, but thickened 
 the growth and ci<8ansbd tun scai^p oi^ dandruff. This was 
 four years sinoe, and I now have a good head of hair. I can 
 cordially recommend it as a first-class hair dressing." 
 
 In May, 1897, we received a letter from J. M. Ran-' 
 dolph, of Brookfield, Mo. The writer says: 
 
 "I have been using your Hair Renewer for several months 
 and find it ons of ths bbst cures for dandruff in bzist^ 
 BNCB, and have caused a number of persons to try it." 
 
 DOES HOT STAIN. One desirable feature of our Re- 
 newer i3 that it does not discolor the skin, as so many 
 preparations do. It would not make the permanent 
 cures that it dxily performs were this t:ae. The skin 
 is kept in its natural condition, and not in the slight- 
 est degree colored. 
 
IS rr SAFE? 
 
 No one should think for a moment of using any 
 preparation on the hair without having a sufficient 
 guarantee that it is free from all caustic properties, 
 protected from acid production, and composed of only 
 the purest and best of materials. 
 
 A few years ago we had our preparation examined 
 by the highest authority obtainable, and we give be- 
 low the result. During all these years our formula 
 has been unchanged ; hence this analysis is as good 
 today as when it was first issued. 
 
 STATE ASSATEB'S 
 
 OFFICE 
 SO Statb Stbbbt, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
 A. A. HATKS, X.D. 
 
 8. DANA HATKS. 
 
 Vc^etiible 
 Sfcilian 
 
 HALL'S 
 
 Hair fienewer 
 
 We have made a chemical analysis of this preparation, 
 oUained from different sources, and have determined the 
 properties of the substances emptoyid* 
 
 ihe constituents are pure, and carefcdty selected for excd- 
 teni quality; and the comhinaiion of then has been skUfuUy 
 effected so as to form an efficient priparaiion adapted to 
 dea/tsing the shin of the head and promoting the growth of 
 the hair, restoring the original color when it has become 
 gray* Being deprived of all caustic qualities, and protected 
 from subsequent acid production, it is a mild, oil-like fluid, 
 which, while it retains the hair and skin moist, will heat 
 eruptions and promote healthy excretions from the scalp* 
 
 We regaro this as the best preparation fo- the intended 
 purposes ivhich has been submitted for examination* 
 
 A. A, HAYES, M.D., State Assayer. 
 S. DANA HAYES, Chemist. 
 
 
 iFli 
 
I; ': 
 i'l; :i 
 
 Buckingham's Dye 
 
 For the WUsKers. 
 
 A dye haa no effect whatever on the bulb or on the 
 root of the hair. It simply stains the hair sha^. It 
 has no power to check falling hair or to make new 
 hair appear. It is simply and solely a dye. The main 
 questions to be decided about a dye are to procure 
 one that is convenient for use, that will give uniform- 
 ity of color, will not rub or wash off, is clean, per- 
 fectly safe and harmless. 
 
 For the whiskers, mustache, and eyebrows there 
 is nothing equal to Buckingham's Dye. It is easily 
 applied and within i few hours will produce either a 
 beautiful brown or a rich black, whichever is pre- 
 ferred, by following the directions. 
 
 Our dye does not give that dead black color which 
 shows across the room that it is artificial. It does 
 produce, however, a natural, even color that defies 
 detection. And then it is not black or brown today, 
 and a miserable color the next. When dyed once it 
 is dyed to stay. It is necessary to occasionally use it 
 thereafter for the new growth of hair. Two or three 
 bottles at most will keep the beard and mustache 
 colored for a year. Hence it is the most economical 
 preparation on the market. 
 
 We do not recommend this dye for the hair of the 
 head. It does not go to the seat of the trouble and 
 cure it, as does our Vegetable Sicilian Hair Renewei. 
 But there are many men who are not satisfied, and 
 most justly so, in having a beautiful head of hair 
 from the use of our Vegetable Sicilian Hair Renewer, 
 with a most distressing show of beard and mustache. 
 These may just as well be colored with Bucking' 
 ham's Dye as not, and no one be the wiser. Then* 
 again, often tl e beard begins to show the color of age 
 long befort : Lie hair does. Here this Dye naturally 
 comes in and dispels the telltale story of years. 
 
Street & Smith's 
 
 Clotb Bound 
 
 Books 
 
 if 
 
 H Descrtptm List 
 
 DnlERE are some features which are common 
 I to the entire list of books which follows : 
 Jl They are of uniform size, 5^x7^6 inches, 
 consequently well suited for a collection 
 for a library shelf. They are well bound, 
 with gold top, elaborate cover designs, and 
 good paper, with pages of the standard i2mo 
 size, 3>^x6 inches. Each bo<"k contains from 200 
 to 400 pages. The only difference between the 
 35c. books and those at 50c., $1.00 and $1.25 is 
 that the works at the higher prices are bound in 
 more expensive cloth, and are printed on a better 
 grade of paper. The 35c. books will prove a 
 source of lasting satisfaction, in quality of bind- 
 ing, paper and contents, but, of course, the higher 
 priced works are more elaborate. 
 
 Every work in this list is protected by copy- 
 right, and every book is a good one. 
 ic 
 
Cbc Ro8C 8mc9 
 
 Ht 35 cents 
 
 No. 1, Geo£&y'8 Victory, by Mrs, Georgie 
 Sheldon. 
 
 One of the best stories that has been produced by 
 this well-known author. 
 
 No. 2. Dr. Jack, by St. George Rathborne. 
 
 A book famous the vorld over. This is the story 
 that established Mr. Ratb^orne's fame. 
 
 No. 3. Bam Wildfire, by Helen B. Mathers. 
 
 This story has been the subject of favorable com- 
 ment by the press of Great Britain. They unite in de- 
 claring It to be Miss Mathers' greatest work. 
 
 No. 4. Queen Bess, by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. 
 
 Beyond a doubt, one of the very best American nov- 
 els ever written. 
 
 No. 5. Miss Fairfax of Virginia, by St. 
 
 George Rathborne. 
 
 One of the latest and most popular of this author's 
 works. 
 
 No. 6, A Difficult Matter, by Mrs. E.ulv 
 Lovett Cameron. 
 
 A splendid work. Concerning this book Black and 
 White says: "We have a few writers whose books 
 arouse in us certain expectations which are always ful- 
 filled. Such a writer is Mrs. Lovett Cameron, and her 
 story, 'A Difficult Matter,' does not make us change 
 our opinion. Mrs. Lovett Cameron's admirers will not 
 be disappointed in 'A Difficult Matter.' It is a plea- 
 sant, readable story, told in an interesting manner." 
 
 20 
 
 MmiM 
 
jsmmr- 
 
 Cbe Rose Series -conHmmi 
 
 No. 7. A Vale Man, by Robert Lee Tyler. 
 
 Thousands have read this book. Thousands more 
 should and will. Absorbing from start to finish. 
 
 No. 8. Her Paithftil Knight, by- Gertrude 
 Warden. 
 
 This author is well known as one of the foremost 
 writers of interesting and entertaining fiction. We con- 
 sider this to be about the best story she has ever pro- 
 duced. 
 
 No. 9. A Gentleman from Cascony, by 
 
 BiCKNELL Dudley. 
 
 Here we have a romance of the same order as Du- 
 mas* "Three Musketeers" and Stanley Weyman's 
 "A Gentleman of France." 
 
 The San Francisco Chronicle says: " *A Gentle- 
 man from Gascony,' by Bicknell Dudley, while it at 
 once recalls our dear old friends of the 'Three Mus- 
 keteers,' is a bright, clever, well written and entertain- 
 . ing story. The book gives a graphic and vivid picture 
 of one of the great historic epochs of France." 
 
 The Baltimore American sjiys : "'A Gentleman 
 from Gascony,' by Ricknell Dudley. This is a tale of 
 the time of Charles IX., the story opening in the year 
 1572. Raoul de Puycadere is of a noble family, but his 
 possessions have been squandered by his ancestors, and 
 he leaves for Paris to better his position at court. He 
 arrives on the eve of the massacre of St. Bartholomew, 
 and his lady love, Gabrielle, having heard of the con- 
 templated killing, binds a sign on his arm to protect 
 him. By great good luck he is made equerry to the Kinjg 
 of Navarre, and between his duties as equerry and his 
 lovemaking passes through many exciting adventures." 
 
 No. 10. A King and a Coward, by Effie 
 Adelaide Rowlands. 
 
 This is a charming love story of great interest and 
 dramatic strength. It was recently published in serial 
 form, and was so unanimously approved that it has been 
 brought out in book form at the special request of a 
 large number of our patrons. 
 80 
 
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^mn^«H)H«ni 
 
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 No. II. Ttixy, by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon. 
 
 It is difficult to attempt any classification based on 
 the comparative merits of Mrs. Sheldon's various 
 stories. They are uniformly of the highest excellence, 
 and "Trixy" will prove a favorite with all admirers 
 of Mrs. Sheldon's novels. 
 
 No. 12. The Cra^e of Christina, by Mrs. 
 Emily Lovett Cameron. 
 
 Concerning this, one of Mrs. Cameron's latest works, 
 the London World says : "An amusing book is always 
 sure of a welcome, and "The Craze of Christina" 
 should be popular. Mrs. Lovett Cameron hits upon a 
 genuinely comic idea, and she develops it with the 
 skill and assurance of a practised novelist. Mrs. 
 Lovett Cameron means to entertain her readers, and 
 entertain them she does. The heroine is piquant and 
 fresh." 
 
 No. 13. The Wedding Ring, by Robert 
 Buchanan. 
 
 This story is one of the best things Mr. Buchanan has 
 ever done. His reputation as a writer of splendid 
 romances of great power and pathos is enhanced by 
 this excellent work. 
 
 No. 14. I^awyer Bell from Boston, by Robert 
 
 Lee Tyler. 
 
 A dramatic and amusing romance of American life. 
 Mr. Tyler is well known as one of our best American 
 novelists, and this is perhaps his most powerful work. 
 
 No. 15. True to Herself, by Mrs. J. H. 
 
 Walworth. 
 
 m. 
 
 A powerful novel, fully up to the standard of excel- 
 lence of its predecessors in the Rose Series. 
 
■ M ill. Ill — M l ■■III— M il 
 
 REV. CHAS. M. SHELDON'S 
 WORKS ••ftNu •«§**> tcfthu 
 
 1 
 
 In His Steps: What Would Jesus Dot 
 
 Robert Hardyi^s Seven Days 
 The Crucifixion of Philip Strong 
 
 Ixi unifofm bindif^ in fine clothe printed 
 on a superior quality of laid paper^ illto- 
 tratedt and embellished with gold top* 
 
 PRICE, 50 CENTS EACH 
 
 O writer of the present century has achieved 
 such a remarkable success as the Rev. Chas* 
 M. Sheldon, Millions of copies of In His 
 Steps have been sold in England^ and other 
 miUions in America* His other works are» 
 
 if anything^ more powerful than In His 
 
 Steps, each dealing wim a special subject in its relations 
 to the life of a consistent Christian* While many will feel 
 that they cannot rise to the moral height of doing what 
 Jesus would do in evety instance^ there is no doubt that a 
 f aitiifttl effort to follow in the Christian precepts laid down 
 in Mr. Sheldon's works would result in the making of a 
 far better world for humanity* These books are entirely 
 free (torn sectarianism^ and will prove equally acceptabu 
 to all Christians^ whether of the Baptist> Methodistt Epis- 
 copalian^ Congri^ationalt Presbyterian, Lutheran or other 
 denomination, ^st the books to put into the hands of 
 yottng people* They are strong and vigorous works» 
 which have the attractive qualiUes of first-class novels^ 
 coupled wldi the best of religious teaching. 
 
 c4 cheaper edition, in paper, is published 
 fy as si to cents ###•###• 
 
 STREET & SMITH, 238 WILLIAM STREET 
 
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 other BooKs at 50c. 
 
 THE LITTLE A\INISTER 
 
 By James M. Barrie 
 
 %^%^^i 
 
 One of the most popular books of modem times* This story has been 
 dramatized, and is now being presented to large audiences throughout 
 the United States. The book is illustrated, printed on fine paper and sub- 
 stantially bound, making it in all a very attractive and interesting book. 
 50 cents. Elegantly bound, with gilt top, etc., and contains six illustrations. 
 
 THE PRINCE OF THE HOUSE OF DAVD) 
 
 By Rev. Prof. J. H. Ingrabam 
 
 This work is one of the most famous of all books relating to the life 
 and times of Christ. The book consists of a series of letters, written by a 
 Jewish maiden . isiting iu the Holy City, and gives a graphic idea of 
 the impression that the remarkable events of that period must have made 
 on the minds of the people. A work every one should read. Elegantly 
 bound and printed. Gold top and illustration. Price, 50 cents. 
 
 THE WRECK OF THE SOUTH POLE, 
 
 or the Great Dissembler, and other strans:e tales 
 
 By Charles Curtx Habn 
 
 This book by Mr. Hahn.the Editor of the Omaha World-fferald,\s 
 a unique production. The first tale,"The Great Dissembler," is founded on 
 the theme of a shipwrecked traveler, who lands in an unknown country 
 near the South Pole, and finds the inhabitants to be gifted with the power 
 of mind-reading. The strange complications that arise from this remark* 
 able condition, and the peculiarities of a government of mind-readers 
 by mind-readers, iorm a distinctly interesting story. The other tales in 
 this book are made up mainly of stories of the supernatural and the ex- 
 traordinary. Mr. Hahn has proved himself a master at this class of work, 
 and the book will undoubtedly have a wide circulation. Elegantly bound 
 in cloth, with gold top and fine laid paper. Price, 50 cents. 
 
 i: 
 
 This valuable Hand Book of Beauty has had such a widespread sale 
 in paper at 10 cents, that we have published this elegant edition in cloth 
 for those who desire the work in a more permanent form. The eighteen 
 chapters of this book cover the whole subject of Beauty, including full 
 instructions which, properly followed, will enable any woman to enchance 
 her personal charms. Elegantly bound in cloth, with fine paper and gold 
 top. Price, 50 cents. 
 
 sJ 
 
TrooperTales 
 
 By WILL LEVINGTON COMFORT 
 
 Real stories of the life of 
 American soldiers, written by 
 a man in the ranks. An enorm- 
 ously successful book, (tead 
 what the leading papers say 
 concerning it. 
 
 i2no. Elegaiitiy bound and 
 
 printed. 
 
 5 beautiful balfftona lllanrationa. 
 
 Pricer$l.00 
 
 •t all bookaellerat or by mall* 
 postpaid. 
 
 Chicago Sm.—" A strong baokgroand 
 of human interest." 
 
 Richmond MiMOurian. — " Vhe author 
 writes in a way independent and 
 original, yet so interesting, that one 
 misses the first half of a dinner rather 
 than leave off in the middle of one of 
 these 'Trooper Tales.' In these six- 
 teen Trooper tales there is sketch work 
 as pure as found in Bnglish. It is a 
 real book and it is American," 
 
 Paterson Evening News. — "Mr. Comfort 
 has a peculiarly strong and original 
 style." 
 
 Philadelphia Enquirer,— "Thne stories 
 are not romances, but records of what 
 the author has seen and suffered, and 
 they Rhow that he has not 'soldiered' 
 in vain." 
 
 Newark Daily Advertiser, — " OomtOTt 
 has abiiity to blend humor and pathos 
 in palatable compound." 
 
 Detroit Free Press, — " There is certainly 
 considerable promise In Mr. Comfort's 
 work." 
 
 Boston Traveler. — "One feels that he 
 has actually been to the front with 
 Uncle Sam's boys when he has read the 
 work." 
 
 Scranton Republican.— "Thia is one of 
 the books that will live." 
 
 Bookseller, Newsdealer and Stationer. — 
 " The soldiers that he depicts are not 
 on dress parade, nor will they ever find 
 a place in Sunday School books, but 
 they are very real." 
 
 Worcester Telegram. — " It has the merit 
 of orginality and sustained interest, 
 allied with truthfulness." 
 
 Troj/ Press.—" Mr. Comfort has by this 
 single work demonstrated that he is 
 one of the most talented young writers 
 in America." 
 
 Omaha £««.— "Here is a book with war 
 as its theme; that is a decided novelty.*' 
 
 Srranton Tribune. — "A bunch of war 
 stories which are the real thing." 
 
 The Journalist. — " A piece of admirable 
 work. Mr. Comfort is one of the most 
 promising of our younger writers." 
 
 gold 
 
 SO 
 
 STREET & SMITH, Publishers, ^ STVoi*^ 
 
teOntjntjutJtjpnnHtyt^ty q tjtypntJtytnyttu OT 
 
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 THE VAMPIRE 
 
 And Other Poems 
 
 By RUDYARD KIPLING 
 
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 HIS work is 
 one which 
 should form 
 apart of every well- 
 regulated library — 
 especially of those 
 who make a collection 
 of the great poets a 
 specialty. 
 
 The volume con- 
 tains * ♦TheVampire, " 
 **The Recessional," and nearly all of Mr. 
 Kipling's other poems. It is needless to dwell 
 upon the qualities of Mr. Kipling's poetry. 
 The world is familiar with it. This volume is 
 elegantly printed and bound, and will prove an 
 elegant ornament as well as a valuable work 
 for reading and reference. 
 
 D^tiftk CI AA At all first-class bookstores, or by 
 rritC »vl*UU mall, postpaldjrom the publither*. 
 
 STREET & SMITH. 238 WilHam St, IS. Y. 
 
H Great Book on ^ ^ 
 Che Labor problem 
 
 44 
 
 Would Christ Belong to a 
 Labor Union ?^^ 
 
 By Rev. Cortland Myers, D.D. 
 
 Putor of the Brooklyn Baptist Temple. 
 
 ^ 
 
 HHIS book is published in paper at ten cents and in 
 cloth at 50 cents. The cloth edition contains an 
 elegant halftone portrait of Rev. Cortland Myers. 
 No work has appeared which so clearly defines the line on 
 which Christianity and Labor may work together. It has 
 created an immense sensation, especially in Labor Unions. 
 Every working man, every member of a Labor Union, 
 should read this remarkable book. It is not the work of a 
 dreamer ; it is the revelation of a bright possibility in real 
 life. The relation of the working man to the Church is 
 clefarly set forth and the duty of all clearly defined. 
 Thought is awakened by every page, and resolution cannot 
 fail to be made. The love story which runs through the 
 book adds greatly to its interest. 
 
 For sale hy all newsdealers, or will be sent postpaid by the publishers 
 
 Street & Smith 
 
 lit QHUfani Stmt New torh C(ty 
 
 at the advertised price. 
 
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mjtumm^kmmm 
 
 STREET & SMITH'S 
 CLOTH BOOKS 
 
 At $1.00 eacb 
 
 Trooper Tales Witt Levington Comfort 
 
 A Fair Fraod Mrs* Entity Loveii Cameron 
 
 The Love That Lasts Florence Warden 
 
 Cttba and Porto Rico A* D Halt 
 
 The PhiHppines A. D, HaU 
 
 The Life of Admiral George Dewey . . . WittM* Clemens 
 
 The** Bab ''Ballads W.S.Gilbert 
 
 Oot of the Past Eleanor Hooper Cotyett 
 
 The Old Order Changes W.H. Mattock 
 
 In Friendship's Guise William Murray Graydon 
 
 The Awakming Count Lyof Tolstoi 
 
 The Vampire and Other Poems Rudyard Kipling 
 
 What One Man Saw H. Ir<oing Hancock 
 
 Our Mysterious Passenger . . Major Richard Henty Savage 
 
 A Life of the Pope (Leo Xm.) A. D. Hatt 
 
 The Yoke of the Thorah Sidney Luska 
 
 As It Vas Written Sidney Luska 
 
 Grandison Mather Sidney Luska 
 
 Mrs* Peizada .Sidney Luska 
 
 A Latin Quarter Courtship Sidn^ Luska 
 
 The Mate of the ** Vancottver " Morley Roberts 
 
 Blood Royal Grant Allen 
 
 A Banker of Bankersville Maurice Ihompson 
 
 Tiny Lctttrell E*W* Homung 
 
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