TMJfi UBKAK! 
 
 DIVERSITY OF CAOFO*N1A 
 LOS ANGELJW 
 
 B 
 
 LACK ROCK: a tale 
 
 of the Selkirks . . by 
 Ralph Connor 
 
 With an Introduction 
 by Professor George 
 Adam Smith, LL.D. 
 
 nt |jj 
 
 T 1> 
 
 New York : Chicago : Toronto 
 
 Fleming H. Revell Company 
 
 1899
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 I THINK I have met " Ralph Connor.'* In- 
 deed, I am sure I have once in a canoe 
 on the Red River, once on the Assinaboine, 
 and twice or thrice on the prairies to the 
 West. That was not the name he gave 
 me, but, if I am right, it covers one of 
 the most honest and genial of the strong 
 characters that are righting the devil and 
 doing good work for men all over the 
 world. He has seen with his own eyes 
 the life which he describes in this book, 
 and has himself, for some years of hard 
 and lonely toil, assisted in the good in- 
 fluences which he traces among its wild 
 and often hopeless conditions. He writes 
 with the freshness and accuracy of an 
 eye-witness, with the style (as I think his 
 readers will allow) of a real artist, and 
 with the tenderness and hopefulness of a 
 man not only of faith but of experience, 
 
 2046846
 
 BLACK ROCK 
 
 who has seen in fulfilment the ideals for 
 which he lives. 
 
 The life to which he takes us, though 
 far off and very strange to our tame minds, 
 is the life of our brothers. Into the North- 
 West of Canada the young men of Great 
 Britain and Ireland have been pouring (I 
 was told), sometimes at the rate of 48,000 
 a year. Our brothers who left home 
 yesterday our hearts cannot but follow 
 them. With these pages Ralph Connor 
 enables our eyes and our minds to follow, 
 too ; nor do I think there is anyone who 
 shall read this book and not find also that 
 his conscience is quickened. There is a 
 warfare appointed unto man upon earth, 
 and its struggles are nowhere more in- 
 tense, nor the victories of the strong, nor 
 the succors brought to the fallen, more 
 heroic, than on the fields described in 
 this volume. 
 
 GEORGE ADAM SMITH.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PAQR 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP, .... X 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS, .... 2g 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY, . 53 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 MRS. MAVOR'S STORY, . . . ... 77 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE, ... . . . 97 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION, . . . . . . 1 19
 
 BLACK ROCK v 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION, . . . 139 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE, .... I$9 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE, ...... 183 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN, 2O5 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE TWO CALLS, 235 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL 255 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME, . . . . < 271 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH, ...... 287 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 31!
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A 
 LUMBER CAMP
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 
 
 IT was due to a mysterious dispensation of 
 Providence, and a good deal to Leslie Graeme, 
 that I found myself in the heart of the Selkirks 
 for my Christmas Eve as the year 1882 was 
 dying. It had been my plan to spend my 
 Christmas far away in Toronto, with such Bohe- 
 mian and boon companions as could be found 
 in that cosmopolitan and kindly city. But Leslie 
 Graeme changed all that, for, discovering me in 
 the village of Black Rock, with my traps all 
 packed, waiting for the stage to start for the 
 Landing, thirty miles away, he bore down upon 
 me with resistless force, and I found myself re- 
 covering from my surprise only after we had 
 gone in his lumber sleigh some six miles on our 
 way to his camp up in the mountains. I was 
 surprised and much delighted, though I would
 
 * BLACK ROCK 
 
 not allow him to think so, to find that his old- 
 time power over me was still there. He could 
 always in the old 'Varsity days dear, wild days 
 make me do what he liked. He was so hand- 
 some and so reckless, brilliant in his class-work, 
 and the prince of half-backs on the Rugby field, 
 and with such power of fascination as would 
 ' extract the heart out of a wheelbarrow/ as Barney 
 Lundy used to say. And thus it was that I 
 found myself just three weeks later I was to 
 have spent two or three days, on the afternoon 
 of the 24th of December, standing in Graeme's 
 Lumber Camp No. 2, wondering at myself. But 
 I did not regret my changed plans, for in those 
 three weeks I had raided a cinnamon bear's den 
 
 and had wakened up a grizzly But I shall 
 
 let the grizzly finish the tale ; he probably sees 
 more humour in it than I. 
 
 The camp stood in a little clearing, and con- 
 sisted of a group of three long, low shanties with 
 smaller shacks near them, all built of heavy, un- 
 hewn logs, with door and window in each. The 
 grub camp, with cook-shed attached, stood in the 
 middle of the clearing; at a little distance was the 
 sleeping-camp with the office built against it, and
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 3 
 
 about a hundred yards away on the other side of 
 the clearing stood the stables, and near them the 
 smiddy. The mountains rose grandly on every 
 side, throwing up their great peaks into the sky. 
 The clearing in which the camp stood was hewn 
 out of a dense pine forest that filled the valley 
 and climbed half way up the mountain -sides, 
 and then frayed out in scattered and stunted 
 trees. 
 
 It was one of those wonderful Canadian winter 
 days, bright, and with a touch of sharpness in the 
 air that did not chill, but warmed the blood like 
 draughts of wine. The men were up in the 
 woods, and the shrill scream of the blue jay flash- 
 ing across the open, the impudent chatter of the 
 red squirrel from the top of the grub camp, and 
 the pert chirp of the whisky-jack, hopping about 
 on the rubbish-heap, with the long, lone cry of the 
 wolf far down the valley, only made the silence 
 felt the more. 
 
 As I stood drinking in with all my soul the 
 glorious beauty and the silence of mountain and 
 forest, with the Christmas feeling stealing into me, 
 Graeme came out from his office, and, catching 
 sight of me, called out, 'Glorious Christmas
 
 4 BLACK ROCK 
 
 weather, old chap!' And then, coming nearer, 
 ' Must you go to-morrow ? ' 
 
 ' I fear so/ I replied, knowjng well that the 
 Christmas feeling was on him too. 
 
 ' I wish I were going with you,' he said quietly. 
 
 I turned eagerly to persuade him, but at the 
 look of suffering in his face the words died at my 
 lips, for we both were thinking of the awful 
 night of horror when all his bright, brilliant life 
 crashed down about him in black ruin and shame. 
 I could only throw my arm over his shoulder 
 and stand silent beside him. A sudden jingle 
 of bells roused him, and, giving himself a little 
 shake, he exclaimed, ' There are the boys 
 coming home.' 
 
 Soon the camp was filled with men talking, 
 laughing, charring, like light-hearted boys. 
 
 ' They are a little wild to-night,' said Graeme ; 
 1 and to - morrow they '11 paint Black Rock 
 red.' 
 
 Before many minutes had gone, the last teamster 
 was 'washed up,' and all were standing about 
 waiting impatiently for the cook's signal the 
 supper to-night was to be ' something of a feed ' 
 when the sound of bells drew their attention
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 5 
 
 to a light sleigh drawn by a buckskin broncho 
 coming down the hillside at a great pace. 
 
 * The preacher, I '11 bet, by his driving/ said one 
 of the men. 
 
 'Bedad, and it's him has the foine nose for 
 turkey 1 ' said Blaney, a good-natured, jovial Irish- 
 man. 
 
 'Yes, or for pay-day, more like,' said Keefe, 
 a black-browed, villainous fellow-countryman of 
 Blaney's, and, strange to say, his great friend. 
 
 Big Sandy M'Naughton, a Canadian High- 
 lander from Glengarry, rose up in wrath. 'Bill 
 Keefe,' said he, with deliberate emphasis, ' you '11 
 just keep your dirty tongue off the minister ; and 
 as for your pay, it's little he sees of it, or any 
 one else, except Mike Slavin, when you're too 
 dry to wait for some one to treat you, or perhaps 
 Father Ryan, when the fear of hell-fire is on 
 to you.' 
 
 The men stood amazed at Sandy's sudden 
 anger and length of speech. 
 
 ' Bon ; dat 's good for you, my bully boy/ said 
 Baptiste, a wiry little French-Canadian, Sandy's 
 sworn ally and devoted admirer ever since 
 the day when the big Scotsman, under great
 
 6 BLACK ROCK 
 
 provocation, had knocked him clean off the dump 
 into the river and then jumped in for him. 
 
 It was not till afterwards I learned the cause 
 of Sandy's sudden wrath which urged him to 
 such unwonted length of speech. It was not 
 simply that the Presbyterian blood carried with 
 it reverence for the minister and contempt for 
 Papists and Fenians, but that he had a vivid 
 remembrance of how, only a month ago, the 
 minister had got him out of Mike Slavin's saloon 
 and out of the clutches of Keefe and Slavin and 
 their gang of bloodsuckers. 
 
 Keefe started up with a curse. Baptiste sprang 
 to Sandy's side, slapped him on the back, and 
 called out, 'You keel him, I'll hit (eat) him 
 up, me.' 
 
 It looked as if there might be a fight, when a 
 harsh voice said in a low, savage tone, ' Stop your 
 row, you blank fools ; settle it, if you want to, 
 somewhere else.' I turned, and was amazed to 
 see old man Nelson, who was very seldom moved 
 to speech. 
 
 There was a look of scorn on his hard, iron- 
 grey face, and of such settled fierceness as made 
 me quite believe the tales I had heard of his
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 7 
 
 deadly fights in the mines at the coast. Before 
 any reply could be made, the minister drove up 
 and called out in a cheery voice, ' Merry Christ- 
 mas, boys! Hello, Sandy! Comment c,a va, 
 Baptiste ? How do you do, Mr. Graeme ? ' 
 
 ' First rate. Let me introduce my friend, Mr. 
 Connor, sometime medical student, now artist, 
 hunter, and tramp at large, but not a bad sort* 
 
 ' A man to be envied,' said the minister, smiling. 
 1 1 am glad to know any friend of Mr. Graeme's.' 
 
 I liked Mr. Craig from the first He had good 
 eyes that looked straight out at you, a clean- 
 cut, strong face well set on his shoulders, and 
 altogether an upstanding, manly bearing. He 
 insiste " on going with Sandy to the stables to 
 see Dandy, his broncho, put up. 
 
 'Decent fe M ow/ said Graeme; 'but though he 
 Is good enough to his broncho, it is Sandy that 's 
 in his mind now.' 
 
 'Does he come out often? mean, are you 
 part of his parish, so to speak ? ' 
 
 ' I have no doubt he thinks so ; and I 'm blowed 
 if he doesn't make the Presbyterians of us think 
 so too.' And he added after a pause, ' A dandy 
 lot of parishioners we are for any man. There's
 
 8 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Sandy, now, he would knock Keefe's head off 
 as a kind of religious exercise ; but to-morrow 
 Keefe will be sober, and Sandy will be drunk as 
 a lord, and the drunker he is the better Presby- 
 terian he '11 be, to the preacher's disgust.' Then 
 after another pause he added bitterly, ' But it is 
 not for me to throw rocks at Sandy ; I am not 
 the same kind of fool, but I am a fool of several 
 other sorts.' 
 
 Then the cook came out and beat a tattoo 
 on the bottom of a dish-pan. Baptiste answered 
 with a yell : but though keenly hungry, no man 
 would demean himself to do other than walk with 
 apparent reluctance to his place at the table. 
 At the further end of the camp was a big 
 fireplace, and from the door to the fireplace 
 extended the long board tables, covered with 
 platters of turkey not too scientifically carved, 
 dishes of potatoes, bowls of apple sauce, plates of 
 butter, pies, and smaller dishes distributed at 
 regular intervals. Two lanterns hanging from 
 the roof, and a row of candles stuck into the wall 
 on either side by means of slit sticks, cast a dim, 
 weird light over the scene. 
 
 There was a moment's silence, and at a nod
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 9 
 
 from Graeme Mr. Craig rose and said, ' I don't 
 know how you feel about it, men, but to me this 
 looks good enough to be thankful for.' 
 
 1 Fire ahead, sir,' called out a voice quite respect- 
 fully, and the minister bent his head and said 
 
 ' For Christ the Lord who came to save us, for 
 all the love and goodness we have known, and for 
 these Thy gifts to us this Christmas night, our 
 Father, make us thankful. Amen.' 
 
 'Bon, dat's fuss rate,' said Baptiste. 'Seems 
 lak dat 's make me hit (eat) more better for sure,' 
 and then no word was spoken for quarter of an 
 hour. The occasion was far too solemn and 
 moments too precious for anything so empty as 
 words. But when the white piles of bread and 
 the brown piles of turkey had for a second time 
 vanished, and after the last pie had disappeared, 
 there came a pause and hush of expectancy, 
 whereupon the cook and cookee, each bearing 
 aloft a huge, blazing pudding, came forth. 
 
 ' Hooray ! ' yelled Blaney, ' up wid yez ! ' and 
 grabbing the cook by the shoulders from behind, 
 he faced him about. 
 
 Mr. Craig was the first to respond, and seizing 
 the cookee in the same way, called out, ' Squad,
 
 io BLACK ROCK 
 
 fall in ! quick march ! ' In a moment every man 
 was in the procession. 
 
 ' Strike up, Batchees, ye little angel ! ' shouted 
 Blaney, the appellation a concession to the 
 minister's presence ; and away went Baptiste in a 
 rollicking French song with the English chorus 
 
 * Then blow, ye winds, in the morning, 
 
 Blow, ye winds, ay oh 1 
 Blow, ye winds, in the morning, 
 Blow, blow, blow.' 
 
 And at each 'blow' every boot came down 
 with a thump on the plank floor that shook the 
 solid roof. After the second round, Mr. Craig 
 jumped upon the bench, and called out 
 
 ' Three cheers for Billy the cook ! ' 
 
 In the silence following the cheers Baptiste 
 was heard to say, ' Bon ! dat 's mak me feel lak 
 hit dat puddin' all hup mesef, me.' 
 
 1 Hear till the little baste ! ' said Blaney in 
 disgust. 
 
 1 Batchees,' remonstrated Sandy gravely, ' ye Ve 
 more stomach than manners.' 
 
 ' Fu sure ! but de more Stomach dat 's more 
 better for dis puddin',' replied the little French- 
 man cheerfully.
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP n 
 
 After a time the tables were cleared and pushed 
 back to the wall, and pipes were produced. In 
 all attitudes suggestive of comfort the men dis- 
 posed themselves in a wide circle about the fire, 
 which now roared and crackled up the great 
 wooden chimney hanging from the roof. The 
 lumberman's hour of bliss had arrived. Even old 
 man Nelson looked a shade less melancholy than 
 usual as he sat alone, well away from the fire, 
 smoking steadily and silently. When the second 
 pipes were well a-going, one of the men took 
 down a violin from the wall and handed it to 
 Lachlan Campbell. There were two brothers 
 Campbell just out from Argyll, typical High- 
 landers: Lachlan, dark, silent, melancholy, with 
 the face of a mystic, and Angus, red-haired, quick, 
 impulsive, and devoted to his brother, a devotion 
 he thought proper to cover under biting, sarcastic 
 speech. 
 
 Lachlan, after much protestation, interspersed 
 with gibes from his brother, took the violin, and, 
 in response to the call from all sides, struck up 
 ' Lord Macdonald's Reel.' In a moment the 
 floor was filled with dancers, whooping and crack- 
 ing their fingers in th* wildest manner. Then
 
 i a BLACK ROCK 
 
 Baptiste did the ' Red River Jig,' a most intricate 
 and difficult series of steps, the men keeping time 
 to the music with hands and feet. 
 
 When the jig was finished, Sandy called for 
 1 Lochaber No More ' ; but Campbell said, ' No, 
 no ! I cannot play that to-night. Mr. Craig will 
 play.' 
 
 Craig took the violin, and at the first note I 
 knew he was no ordinary player. I did not 
 recognise the music, but it was soft and thrill- 
 ing, and got in by the heart, till every one was 
 thinking his tenderest and saddest thoughts. 
 
 After he had played two or three exquisite 
 bits, he gave Campbell his violin, saying, ' Now, 
 " Lochaber," Lachlan.' 
 
 Without a word Lachlan began, not 'Lochaber' 
 he was not ready for that yet but ' The 
 Flowers o' the Forest,' and from that wandered 
 through 'Auld Robin Gray' and 'The Land o' 
 the Leal,' and so got at last to that most soul- 
 subduing of Scottish laments, ' Lochaber No More.' 
 At the first strain, his brother, who had thrown 
 himself on some blankets behind the fire, turned 
 over on his face, feigning sleep. Sandy M'Naugh- 
 tOD took his pipe out of his mouth, and sat
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 13 
 
 up straight and stiff, staring into vacancy, and 
 Graeme, beyond the fire, drew a short, sharp 
 breath. We had often sat, Graeme and I, in 
 our student-days, in the drawing-room at home, 
 listening to his father wailing out 'Lochaber' 
 upon the pipes, and I well knew that the awful 
 minor strains were now eating their way into 
 his soul. 
 
 Over and over again the Highlander played 
 his lament. He had long since forgotten us, and 
 was seeing visions of the hills and lochs and glens 
 of his far-away native land, and making us, too, 
 see strange things out of the dim past I glanced 
 at old man Nelson, and was startled at the eager, 
 almost piteous, look in his eyes, and I wished 
 Campbell would stop. Mr. Craig caught my 
 eye, and, stepping over to Campbell, held 
 out his hand for the violin. Lingeringly 
 and lovingly the Highlander drew out the 
 last strain, and silently gave the minister his 
 instrument. 
 
 Without a moment's pause, and while the spell 
 of 'Lochaber' was still upon us, the minister, 
 with exquisite skill, fell into the refrain of that 
 simple and beautiful camp-meeting hymn, ' The
 
 i4 BLACK ROCIL 
 
 Sweet By and By.' After playing the verse 
 through once, he sang softly the refrain. After 
 the first verse, the men joined in the chorus ; at 
 first timidly, but by the time the third verse was 
 reached they were shouting with throats full open, 
 ' We shall meet on that beautiful shore.' When I 
 looked at Nelson the eager light had gone out of 
 his eyes, and in its place was a kind of determined 
 hopelessness, as if in this new music he had no 
 part 
 
 After the voices had ceased, Mr. Craig played 
 again the refrain, more and more softly and 
 slowly ; then laying the violin on Campbell's 
 knees, he drew from his pocket his little Bible, 
 and said 
 
 ' Men, with Mr. Graeme's permission, I want 
 to read you something this Christmas Eve. You 
 will all have heard it before, but you will like it 
 none the less for that* 
 
 His voice was soft, but clear and penetrating, 
 as he read the eternal story of the angels and the 
 shepherds and the Babe. And as he read, a 
 slight motion of the hand or a glance of an 
 eye made us see, as he was seeing, that whole 
 radiant drama. The wonder, the timid joy, the
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 15 
 
 tenderness, the mystery of it all, were borne in 
 upon us with overpowering effect. He closed the 
 book, and in the same low, clear voice went on 
 to tell us how, in his home years ago, he used 
 to stand on Christmas Eve listening in thrilling 
 delight to his mother telling him the story, and 
 how she used to make him see the shepherds 
 and hear the sheep bleating near by, and 
 how the sudden burst of glory used to make his 
 heart jump. 
 
 ' I used to be a little afraid of the angels, 
 because a boy told me they were ghosts ; but my 
 mother told me better, and I didn't fear them 
 any more. And the Baby, the dear little Baby 
 we all love a baby.' There was a quick, dry 
 sob ; it was from Nelson. ' I used to peek 
 through under to see the little one in the 
 straw, and wonder what things swaddling clothes 
 were. Oh, it was all so real and so beauti- 
 ful ! ' He paused, and I could hear the men 
 breathing. 
 
 'But one Christmas Eve/ he went on, in a 
 lower, sweeter tone, ' there was no one to tell me 
 the story, and I grew to forget it, and went away 
 to college, and learned to think that it was only
 
 16 BLACK ROCK 
 
 a child's tale and was not for men. Then bad 
 days came to me and worse, and I began to lose 
 my grip of myself, of life, of hope, of goodness, 
 till one black Christmas, in the slums of a far- 
 away city, when I had given up all, and the 
 devil's arms were about me, I heard the story 
 again. And as I listened, with a bitter ache in 
 my heart, for I had put it all behind me, I 
 suddenly found myself peeking under the shep- 
 herds' arms with a child's wonder at the Baby 
 in the straw. Then it came over me like great 
 waves, that His name was Jesus, because it was 
 He that should save men from their sins. Save ! 
 Save! The waves kept beating upon my ears, 
 and before I knew, I had called out, " Oh ! can 
 He save me ?" It was in a little mission meeting 
 on one of the side streets, and they seemed to be 
 used to that sort of thing there, for no one was 
 surprised ; and a young fellow leaned across the 
 aisle to me and said, "Why! you just bet He 
 can!" His surprise that I should doubt, his 
 bright face and confident tone, gave me hope 
 that perhaps it might be so. I held to that 
 hope with all my soul, and' stretching up his 
 arms, and with a quick glow in his face and a
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 17 
 
 little break in his voice, ' He hasn't failed me 
 yet ; not once, not once ! ' 
 
 He stopped quite short, and I felt a good deal 
 like making a fool of myself, for in those days 1 
 had not made up my mind about these things. 
 Graeme, poor old chap, was gazing at him with 
 a sad yearning in his dark eyes ; big Sandy was 
 sitting very stiff, and staring harder than ever 
 into the fire ; Baptiste was trembling with ex- 
 citement ; Blaney was openly wiping the tears 
 away. But the face that held my eyes was that 
 of old man Nelson. It was white, fierce, hungry- 
 looking, his sunken eyes burning, his lips parted 
 as if to cry. 
 
 The minister went on. ' I didn't mean to tell 
 you this, men, it all came over me with a rush 
 but it is true, every word, and not a word will I 
 take back. And, what's more, I can tell you 
 this, what He did for me He can do for any 
 man, and it doesn't make any difference what 's 
 behind him, and ' leaning slightly forward, and 
 with a little thrill of pathos vibrating in his voice 
 'O boys, why don't you give Him a chance 
 at you ? Without Him you '11 never be the men 
 you want to be, and you '11 never get the better
 
 18 BLACK ROCK 
 
 of that that's keeping some of you now from 
 going back home. You know you '11 never go back 
 till you 're the men you want to be.' Then, lifting 
 up his face and throwing back his head, he said, 
 as if to himself, ' Jesus ! He shall save His 
 people from their sins,' and then, ' Let us pray.' 
 
 Graeme leaned forward with his face in his 
 hands; Baptiste and Blaney dropped on their 
 knees; Sandy, the Campbells, and some others, 
 stood up. Old man Nelson held his eyes steadily 
 on the minister. 
 
 Only once before had I seen that look on a 
 human face. A young fellow had broken through 
 the ice on the river at home, and as the black 
 water was dragging his fingers one by one from 
 the slippery edges, there came over his face that 
 same look. I used to wake up for many a night 
 after in a sweat of horror, seeing the white face 
 with its parting lips, and its piteous, dumb appeal, 
 and the black water slowly sucking it down. 
 
 Nelson's face brought it all back ; but during 
 the prayer the face changed, and seemed to settle 
 into resolve of some sort, stern, almost gloomy, 
 as of a man with his last chance before him. 
 
 After the prayer Mr. Craig invited the men to
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 19 
 
 a Christmas dinner next day in Black Rock. 
 1 And because you are an independent lot, we '11 
 charge you half a dollar for dinner and the eve- 
 ning show.' Then leaving a bundle of magazines 
 and illustrated papers on the table a godsend 
 to the men he said good-bye and went out 
 
 I was to go with the minister, so I jumped into 
 the sleigh first, and waited while he said good-bye 
 to Graeme, who had been hard hit by the whole 
 service, and seemed to want to say something. 
 I heard Mr. Craig say cheerfully and confidently, 
 'It's a true bill: try Him.' 
 
 Sandy, who had been steadying Dandy while 
 that interesting broncho was attempting with 
 great success to balance himself on his hind legs, 
 came to say good-bye. ' Come and see me first 
 thing, Sandy.' 
 
 'Ay! I know; I'll see ye, Mr. Craig/ said 
 Sandy earnestly, as Dandy dashed off at a full 
 gallop across the clearing and over the bridge, 
 steadying down when he reached the hill 
 
 ' Steady, you idiot 1 ' 
 
 This was to Dandy, who had taken a sudden 
 side spring into the deep snow, almost upsetting 
 us. A man stepped out from the shadow. It
 
 ao BLACK ROCK 
 
 was old man Nelson. He came straight to the 
 sleigh, and, ignoring my presence completely, 
 said 
 
 'Mr. Craig, are you dead sure of this? Will 
 it work ? ' 
 
 'Do you mean,' said Craig, taking him up 
 promptly, 'can Jesus Christ save you from your 
 sins and make a man of you ? ' 
 
 The old man nodded, keeping his hungry eyes 
 on the other's face. 
 
 * Well, here 's His message to you : " The Son 
 of Man is come to seek and to save that which 
 was lost." ' 
 
 ' To me ? To me ? ' said the old man eagerly. 
 
 1 Listen ; this, too, is His Word : " Him that 
 cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out." 
 That 's for you, for here you are, coming.' 
 
 'You don't know me, Mr. Craig. I left my 
 baby fifteen years ago because ' 
 
 'Stop!' said the minister. 'Don't tell me, at 
 least not to-night ; perhaps never. Tell Him who 
 knows it all now, and who never betrays a secret. 
 Have it out with Him. Don't be afraid to trust 
 Him.' 
 
 Nelson looked at him, with his face quivering,
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 21 
 
 and said in a husky voice, 'If this is no good, 
 It 'shell for me/ 
 
 ' If it is no good/ replied Craig, almost sternly, 
 'it 'shell for all of us.' 
 
 The old man straightened himself up, looked 
 up at the stars, then back at Mr. Craig, then at 
 me, and, drawing a deep breath, said, ' I '11 try 
 Him.' As he was turning away the minister 
 touched him on the arm, and said quietly, ' Keep 
 an eye on Sandy to-morrow.' 
 
 Nelson nodded, and we went on ; but before 
 we took the next turn I looked back and saw 
 what brought a lump into my throat. It was old 
 man Nelson on his knees in the snow, with his 
 hands spread upward to the stars, and I won- 
 dered if there was any One above the stars, and 
 nearer than the stars, who could see. And then 
 the trees hid him from my sight
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 
 
 MANY strange Christmas Days have I seen, but 
 that wild Black Rock Christmas stands out 
 strangest of all. While I was revelling in 
 my delicious second morning sleep, just awake 
 enough to enjoy it, Mr. Craig came abruptly, 
 announcing breakfast and adding, 'Hope you 
 are in good shape, for we have our work before 
 us this day.' 
 
 ' Hello ! ' I replied, still half asleep, and anxious 
 to hide from the minister that I was trying to 
 gain a few more moments of snoozing delight, 
 1 what 's abroad ? ' 
 
 ' The devil,' he answered shortly, and with 
 such emphasis that I sat bolt upright, looking 
 anxiously about. 
 
 ' Oh ! no need for alarm. He 's not after you 
 particularly at least not to-day,' said Craig, with
 
 *6 BLACK ROCK 
 
 a shadow of a smile. ' But he is going about in 
 good style, I can tell you. 1 
 
 By this time I was quite awake. ' Well, what 
 particular style does His Majesty affect this 
 morning?' 
 
 He pulled out a showbill. 'Peculiarly gaudy 
 and effective, is it not?' 
 
 The items announced were sufficiently attrac- 
 tive. The 'Frisco Opera Company were to pro- 
 duce the ' screaming farce,' ' The Gay and Giddy 
 Dude'; after which there was to be a 'Grand Ball,' 
 during which the ' Kalifornia Female Kickers ' 
 were to do some fancy figures; the whole to 
 be followed by a 'big supper' with 'two free 
 drinks to every man and one to the lady,' and 
 all for the insignificant sum of two dollars. 
 
 ' Can't you go one better ? ' I said. 
 
 He looked inquiringly and a little disgustedly 
 at me. 
 
 'What can you do against free drinks and a 
 dance, not to speak of the " High Kickers " ? ' he 
 groaned. 
 
 1 No ! ' he continued ; ' it's a clean beat for us to- 
 day. The miners and lumbermen will have in their 
 pockets ten thousand dollars, and every dollar
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 7 
 
 burning a hole; and Slavin and his gang will 
 get most of it. But/ he added, ' you must have 
 breakfast. You'll find a tub in the kitchen ; don't be 
 afraid to splash. It is the best I have to offer you.' 
 
 The tub sounded inviting, and before many 
 minutes had passed I was in a delightful glow, the 
 effect of cold water and a rough towel, and that 
 consciousness of virtue that comes to a man who 
 has had courage to face his cold bath on a winter 
 morning. 
 
 The breakfast was laid with fine taste. A 
 diminutive pine-tree, in a pot hung round with 
 wintergreen, stood in the centre of the table. 
 
 1 Well, now, this looks good ; porridge, beef- 
 steak, potatoes, toast, and marmalade.' 
 
 ' I hope you will enjoy it all.' 
 
 There was not much talk over our meal. Mr. 
 Craig was evidently preoccupied, and as blue as 
 his politeness would allow him. Slavin's victory 
 weighed upon his spirits. Finally he burst out, 
 1 Look here ! I can't, I won't stand it ; something 
 must be done. Last Christmas this town was for 
 two weeks, as one of the miners said, "a little 
 suburb of hell." It was something too awful. 
 And at the end of it all one young fellow was
 
 28 BLACK ROCK 
 
 found dead in his shack, and twenty or more 
 crawled back to the camps, leaving their three 
 months' pay with Slavin and his suckers. 
 
 ' I won't stand it, I say.' He turned fiercely on 
 me. ' What 's to be done ? ' 
 
 This rather took me aback, for I had troubled 
 myself with nothing of this sort in my life before, 
 being fully occupied in keeping myself out of diffi- 
 culty, and allowing others the same privilege. 
 So I ventured the consolation that he had done 
 his part, and that a spree more or less would not 
 make much difference to these men. But the 
 next moment I wished I had been slower in 
 speech, for he swiftly faced me, and his words 
 came like a torrent. 
 
 ' God forgive you that heartless word ! Do you 
 
 know ? But no ; you don't know what you 
 
 are saying. You don't know that these men have 
 been clambering for dear life out of a fearful pit 
 for three months past, and doing good climbing 
 too, poor chaps. You don't think that some o 
 them have wives, most of them mothers arxl 
 sisters, in the east or across the sea, for whose sake 
 they are slaving here ; the miners hoping tr save 
 enough to bring their families to this hoaieless
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 29 
 
 place, the rest to make enough to go back with 
 credit. Why, there's Nixon, miner, splendid 
 chap ; has been here for two years, and drawing 
 the highest pay. Twice he has been in sight of 
 his heaven, for he can't speak of his wife and 
 babies without breaking up, and twice that slick 
 son of the devil that's Scripture, mind you 
 Slavin, got him, and "rolled" him, as the boys 
 say. He went back to the mines broken in body 
 and in heart. He says this is his third and last 
 chance. If Slavin gets him, his wife and babies 
 will never see him on earth or in heaven. There 
 is Sandy, too, and the rest. And/ he added, in a 
 lower tone, and with the curious little thrill of 
 pathos in his voice, ' this is the day the Saviour 
 came to the world.' He paused, and then with 
 a little sad smile, 'But I don't want to abuse 
 you.' 
 
 ' Do, I enjoy it, I 'm a beast, a selfish beast ' ; 
 for somehow his intense, blazing earnestness made 
 me feel uncomfortably small. 
 
 1 What have we to offer ? ' I demanded. 
 
 ' Wait till I have got these things cleared away, 
 and my housekeeping done.' 
 
 I pressed my services upon him, somewhat
 
 3 BLACK ROCK 
 
 feebly, I own, for I can't bear dishwater ; but he 
 rejected my offer. 
 
 ' I don't like trusting my china to the hands of 
 a tender-foot' 
 
 'Quite right, though your china would prove 
 an excellent means of defence at long range.' It 
 was delf, a quarter of an inch thick. So I smoked 
 while he washed up, swept, dusted, and arranged 
 the room. 
 
 After the room was ordered to his taste, we 
 proceeded to hold council. He could offer dinner, 
 magic lantern, music. ' We can fill in time for 
 two hours, but,' he added gloomily, ' we can't beat 
 the dance and the " High Kickers." ' 
 
 ' Have you nothing new or startling ? ' 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 'No kind of show? Dog show? Snake 
 charmer ? ' 
 
 ' Slavin has a monopoly of the snakes/ 
 
 Then he added hesitatingly, ' There was an old 
 Punch-and-Judy chap here last year, but he died. 
 Whisky again.' 
 
 ' What happened to his show ? ' 
 
 ' The Black Rock Hotel man took it for board 
 and whisky bill. He has it still, I suppose.'
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 31 
 
 I did not much relish the business ; but I hated 
 to see him beaten, so I ventured, ' I have run 
 a Punch and Judy in an amateur way at the 
 'Varsity.' 
 
 He sprang to his feet with a yell. 
 
 1 You have ! you mean to say it ? We Ve got 
 them ! We Ve beaten them ! ' He had an ex- 
 traordinary way of taking your help for granted. 
 ' The miner chaps, mostly English and Welsh, 
 went mad over the poor old showman, and made 
 him so wealthy that in sheer gratitude he drank 
 himself to death.' 
 
 He walked up and down in high excitement 
 and in such evident delight that I felt pledged to 
 my best effort 
 
 1 Well,' I said, ' first the poster. We must beat 
 them in that' 
 
 He brought me large sheets of brown paper, 
 and after two hours' hard work I had half a dozen 
 pictorial showbills done in gorgeous colours and 
 striking designs. They were good, if I do say it 
 myself. 
 
 The turkey, the magic lantern, the Punch and 
 Judy show were all there, the last with a crowd 
 before it in gaping delight A few explanatory
 
 3 BLACK ROCK 
 
 words were thrown in, emphasising the highly 
 artistic nature of the Punch and Judy entertain- 
 ment. 
 
 Craig was delighted, and proceeded to perfect 
 his plans. He had some half a dozen young men, 
 four young ladies, and eight or ten matrons, upon 
 whom he could depend for help. These he 
 organised into a vigilance committee charged 
 with the duty of preventing miners and lumber- 
 men from getting away to Slavin's. ' The critical 
 moments will be immediately before and after 
 dinner, and then again after the show is over,' he 
 explained. ' The first two crises must be left to 
 the care of Punch and Judy, and as for the last, 
 I am not yet sure what shall be done ' ; but I saw 
 he had something in his head, for he added, ' I 
 shall see Mrs. Mavor.' 
 
 ' Who is Mrs. Mavor ? ' I asked. But he made 
 no reply. He was a born fighter, and he put the 
 fighting spirit into us all. We were bound to win. 
 
 The sports were to begin at two o'clock. By 
 lunch-time everything was in readiness. After 
 lunch I was having a quiet smoke in Craig's shack 
 when in he rushed, saying 
 
 'The battle will be lost before it is fought If
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 33 
 
 we lose Quatre Bras, we shall never get to 
 Waterloo.' 
 
 'What 'sup?' 
 
 ' Slavin, just now. The miners are coming in, 
 and he will have them in tow in half an hour.' 
 
 He looked at me appealingly. I knew what he 
 wanted. 
 
 ' All right ; I suppose I must, but it is an awful 
 bore that a man can't have a quiet smoke.' 
 
 'You're not half a bad fellow,' he replied, 
 smiling. ' I shall get the ladies to furnish coffee 
 inside the booth. You furnish them intellectual 
 nourishment in front with dear old Punch and 
 Judy.' 
 
 He sent a boy with a bell round the village 
 announcing, ' Punch and Judy in front of the 
 Christmas booth beside the church ' ; and for three- 
 quarters of an hour I shrieked and sweated in that 
 awful little pen. But it was almost worth it to 
 hear the shouts of approval and laughter that 
 greeted my performance. It was cold work 
 standing about, so that the crowd was quite ready 
 to respond when Punch, after being duly hanged, 
 came forward and invited all into the booth for 
 the hot coffee which Judy had ordered.
 
 34 BLACK ROCK 
 
 In they trooped, and Quatre Bras was won. 
 
 No sooner were the miners safely engaged with 
 their coffee than I heard a great noise of bells 
 and of men shouting ; and on reaching the street 
 I saw that the men from the lumber camp were 
 coming in. Two immense sleighs, decorated with 
 ribbons and spruce boughs, each drawn by a four- 
 horse team gaily adorned, filled with some fifty 
 men, singing and shouting with all their might, 
 were coming down the hill road at full gallop. 
 Round the corner they swung, dashed at full speed 
 across the bridge and down the street, and pulled 
 up after they had made the circuit of a block, 
 to the great admiration of the onlookers. Among 
 others Slavin sauntered up good-naturedly, making 
 himself agreeable to Sandy and those who were 
 helping to unhitch his team. 
 
 ' Oh, you need not take trouble with me or my 
 team, Mike Slavin. Batchees and me and the 
 boys can look after them fine,' said Sandy coolly. 
 
 This rejecting of hospitality was perfectly under- 
 stood by Slavin and by all. 
 
 ' Dat 's too bad, heh ? ' said Baptiste wickedly ; 
 * and, Sandy, he 's got good money on his pocket 
 for sure, too.' The boys laughed, and Slavin,
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 35 
 
 Joining in, turned away with Keefe and Blaney ; 
 but by the look in his eye I knew he was playing 
 ' Br'er Rabbit/ and lying low. 
 
 Mr. Craig just then came up, ' Hello, boys ! too 
 late for Punch and Judy, but just in time for hot 
 coffee and doughnuts.' 
 
 1 Bon ; dat 's fuss rate/ said Baptiste heartily ; 
 where you keep him ? ' 
 
 'Up in the tent next the church there. The 
 miners are all in.' 
 
 ' Ah, dat so ? Dat 's bad news for the shanty- 
 men, heh, Sandy?' said the little Frenchman 
 dolefully. 
 
 1 There was a clothes-basket full of doughnuts 
 and a boiler of coffee left as I passed just now/ 
 said Craig encouragingly. 
 
 1 Aliens, mes gardens ; vite ! never say keel 1 ' 
 cried Baptiste excitedly, stripping off the harness. 
 
 But Sandy would not leave the horses till 
 they were carefully rubbed down, blanketed, 
 and fed, for he was entered for the four-horse 
 race and it behoved him to do his best to win. 
 Besides, he scorned to hurry himself for anything 
 so unimportant as eating; that he considered 
 hardly worthy even of Baptiste. Mr. Craig
 
 36 BLACK ROCK 
 
 managed to get a word with him before he wei.t 
 off, and I saw Sandy solemnly and emphatically 
 shake his head, saying, 'Ah! we'll beat him 
 this day/ and I gathered that he was added to 
 the vigilance committee. 
 
 Old man Nelson was busy with his own team. 
 He turned slowly at Mr. Craig's greeting, ' How 
 is it, Nelson ? ' and it was with a very grave voice 
 he answered, ' I hardly know, sir ; but I am not 
 gone yet, though it seems little to hold to.' 
 
 ' All you want for a grip is what your hand can 
 cover. What would you have? And besides, 
 do you know why you are not gone yet ? ' 
 
 The old man waited, looking at the minister 
 gravely. 
 
 ' Because He hasn't let go His grip of you.' 
 
 ' How do you know He 's gripped me ? ' 
 
 ' Now, look here, Nelson, do you want to quit 
 this thing and give it all up ? ' 
 
 'No, no! For Heaven's sake, no! Why, do 
 you think I have lost it?' said Nelson, almost 
 piteously. 
 
 1 Well, He 's keener about it than you ; and I '11 
 bet you haven't thought it worth while to thank 
 Him.'
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 37 
 
 1 To thank Him,' he repeated, almost stupidly, 
 'for 
 
 'For keeping you where you are overnight/ 
 said Mr. Craig, almost sternly. 
 
 The old man gazed at the minister, a light 
 growing in his eyes. 
 
 ' You 're right. Thank God, you 're right' 
 And then he turned quickly away, and went into 
 the stable behind his team. It was a minute 
 before he came out Over his face there was a 
 trembling joy. 
 
 1 Can I do anything for you to-day ? ' he asked 
 humbly. 
 
 * Indeed you just can/ said the minister, taking 
 his hand and shaking it very warmly ; and then 
 he told him Slavin's programme and ours. 
 
 'Sandy is all right till after his race. After 
 that is his time of danger/ said the minister. 
 
 ' I '11 stay with him, sir/ said old Nelson, in the 
 tone of a man taking a covenant, and immediately 
 set off for the coffee-tent 
 
 'Here comes another recruit for your corps/ 
 1 said, pointing to Leslie Graeme, who was coming 
 down the street at that moment in his light 
 sleigh.
 
 38 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' I am not so sure. Do you think you could 
 get him ? ' 
 
 I laughed. ' You are a good one.' 
 
 'Well,' he replied, half defiantly, 'is not this 
 your fight too ? ' 
 
 'You make me think so, though I am bound 
 to say I hardly recognise myself to-day. But 
 here goes,' and before I knew it I was describing 
 our plans to Graeme, growing more and more 
 enthusiastic as he sat in his sleigh, listening with 
 a quizzical smile I didn't quite like. 
 
 ' He 's got you too,' he said ; ' I feared so.' 
 
 ' Well,' I laughed, ' perhaps so. But I want to 
 lick that man Slavin. I 've just seen him, and 
 he's just what Craig calls him, "a slick son of 
 the devil." Don't be shocked ; he says it is 
 Scripture.' 
 
 'Revised version,' said Graeme gravely, while 
 Craig looked a little abashed. 
 
 ' What is assigned me, Mr. Craig ? for I know 
 that this man is simply your agent 1 
 
 I repudiated the idea, while Mr. Craig said 
 nothing. 
 
 ' What 's my part ? ' demanded Graeme. 
 
 1 Well,' said Mr. Craig hesitatingly, ' of course
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 39 
 
 I would do nothing till I had consulted you ; but 
 I want a man to take my place at the sports. I 
 am referee.' 
 
 ' That 's all right,' said Graeme, with an air of 
 relief; 'I expected something hard.' 
 
 'And then I thought you would not mind 
 presiding at dinner I want it to go off well.' 
 
 ' Did you notice that ? ' said Graeme to me. 
 ' Not a bad touch, eh ? ' 
 
 'That's nothing to the way he touched me. 
 Wait and learn,' I answered, while Craig looked 
 quite distressed. 'He'll do it, Mr. Craig, never 
 fear,' I said, ' and any other little duty that may 
 occur to you.' 
 
 'Now that's too bad of you. That is all I 
 want, honour bright/ he replied ; adding, as he 
 turned away, 'you are just in time for a cup of 
 coffee, Mr. Graeme. Now I must see Mrs. 
 Mavor.' 
 
 ' Who is Mrs. Mavor ? ' I demanded of Graeme. 
 
 ' Mrs. Mavor ? The miners' guardian angel.' 
 
 We put up the horses and se-t off for coffee. As 
 we approached the booth Graeme caught sight of 
 the Punch and Judy show, stood still in amaze- 
 ment, and exclaimed, ' Can the dead live?'
 
 40 BLACK ROCK 
 
 1 Punch and Judy never die,' I replied solemnly. 
 
 ' But the old manipulator is dead enough, poor 
 old beggar ! ' 
 
 1 But he left his mantle, as you see.' 
 
 He looked at me a moment 
 
 ' What ! do you mean, you ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, that is exactly what I do mean.' 
 
 ' He is a great man, that Craig fellow a tt*iy 
 great man.' 
 
 And then he leaned up against a tree and 
 laughed till the tears came. ' I say, old boy, 
 don't mind me,' he gasped, ' but do you remember 
 the old 'Varsity show ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, you villain ; and I remember your part in 
 it. I wonder how you can, even at this remote 
 date, laugh at it.' For I had a vivid recollection 
 of how after a 'chaste and highly artistic per- 
 formance of this mediaeval play ' had been given 
 before a distinguished Toronto audience, the 
 trap door by which I had entered my box was 
 fastened, and I was left to swelter in my cage, 
 and forced to listen to the suffocated laughter 
 from the wings and the stage whispers of ' Hello, 
 Mr. Punch, where 's the baby ? ' And for many 
 a day after I was subjected to anxious ino nines
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 41 
 
 as to the locality and health of ' the baby/ and 
 whether it was able to be out. 
 
 ' Oh, the dear old days ! ' he kept saying, over 
 and over, in a tone so full of sadness that my 
 heart grew sore for him and I forgave him, as 
 many a time before. 
 
 The sports passed off in typical Western style. 
 In addition to the usual running and leaping 
 contests, there was rifle and pistol shooting, in 
 both of which old man Nelson stood first, with 
 Shaw, foreman of the mines, second. 
 
 The great event of the day, however, was to be 
 the four-horse race, for which three teams were 
 entered one from the mines driven by Nixon, 
 Craig's friend, a citizens' team, and Sandy's. The 
 race was really between the miners' team, and 
 that from the woods, for the citizens' team, though 
 made up of speedy horses, had not been driven 
 much together, and knew neither their driver nor 
 each other. In the miners' team were four bays, 
 very powerful, a trifle heavy perhaps, but well 
 matched, perfectly trained, and perfectly handled 
 by their driver. Sandy had his long rangy roans, 
 and for leaders a pair of half-broken pinto 
 bronchos. The pintos, caught the summer before
 
 4* BLACK ROCK 
 
 upon the Alberta prairies, were fleet as deer, but 
 wicked and uncertain. They were Baptiste's 
 special care and pride. If they would only run 
 straight there was little doubt that they would 
 carry the roans and themselves to glory ; but one 
 could not tell the moment they might bolt or 
 kick things to pieces. 
 
 Being the only non-partisan in the crowd I was 
 asked to referee. The race was about half a mile 
 and return, the first and last quarters being upon 
 the ice. The course, after leaving the ice, led up 
 from the river by a long easy slope to the level 
 above ; and at the further end curved somewhat 
 sharply round the Old Fort The only condition 
 attaching to the race was that the teams should 
 start from the scratch, make the turn of the 
 Fort, and finish at the scratch. There were no 
 vexing regulations as to fouls. The man making 
 the foul would find it necessary to reckon with 
 the crowd, which was considered sufficient 
 guarantee for a fair and square race. Owing to 
 the hazards of the course, the result would depend 
 upon the skill of the drivers quite as much as 
 upon the speed of the teams. The points of 
 hazard were at the turn round the Old Fort, and
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 43 
 
 at a little ravine which led down to the river, over 
 which the road passed by means of a long log 
 bridge or causeway. 
 
 From a point upon the high bank of the river 
 the whole course lay in open view. It was a 
 scene full of life and vividly picturesque. There 
 were miners in dark clothes and peak caps; 
 citizens in ordinary garb ; ranchmen in wide 
 cowboy hats and buckskin shirts and leggings, 
 some with cartridge-belts and pistols; a few 
 half-breeds and Indians in half-native, half- 
 civilised dress ; and scattering through the crowd 
 the lumbermen with gay scarlet and blue blanket 
 coats, and some with knitted tuques of the same 
 colours. A very good-natured but extremely 
 uncertain crowd it was. At the head of each 
 horse stood a man, but at the pintos' heads 
 Baptiste stood alone, trying to hold down the off 
 leader, thrown into a frenzy of fear by the yelling 
 of the crowd. 
 
 Gradually all became quiet, till, in the midst 
 of absolute stillness, came the words, 'Are you 
 ready ? ', then the pistol-shot and the great race 
 had begun. Above the roar of the crowd came 
 the shrill cry of Baptiste, as he struck his
 
 44 BLACK ROCK 
 
 broncho with the palm of his hand, and swung 
 himself into the sleigh beside Sandy, as it shot 
 past. 
 
 Like a flash the bronchos sprang to the front, 
 two lengths before the other teams ; but, terrified 
 by the yelling of the crowd, instead of bending 
 to the left bank up which the road wound, they 
 wheeled to the right and were almost across the 
 river before Sandy could swing them back into 
 the course. 
 
 Baptiste's cries, a curious mixture of French 
 and English, continued to strike through all other 
 sounds till they gained the top of the slope to 
 find the others almost a hundred yards in front, 
 the citizens' team leading, with the miners' follow- 
 ing close. The moment th pintos caught sight 
 of the teams before them they set off at a terrific 
 pace and steadily devoured the intervening space. 
 Nearer and nearer the turn came, the eight horses 
 in front, running straight and well within their 
 speed. After them flew the pintos, running 
 savagely with ears set back, leading well the big 
 roans, thundering along and gaining at every 
 bound. And now the citizens' team had almost 
 reached the Fort, running hard, and drawing
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 45 
 
 away from the bays. But Nixon knew what he 
 was about, and was simply steadying his team 
 for the turn. The event proved his wisdom, for 
 in the turn the leading team left the track, lost 
 a moment or two in the deep snow, and before 
 they could regain the road the bays had swept 
 superbly past, leaving their rivals to follow in 
 the rear. On came the pintos, swiftly nearing 
 the Fort. Surely at that pace they cannot make 
 the turn. But Sandy knows his leaders. They 
 have their eyes upon the teams in front, and 
 need no touch of rein. Without the slightest 
 change in speed the nimble-footed bronchos round 
 the turn, hauling the big roans after them, and 
 fall in behind the citizens' team, which is regain- 
 ing steadily the ground lost in the turn. 
 
 And now the struggle is for the bridge over 
 the ravine. The bays in front, running with 
 mouths wide open, are evidently doing their best ; 
 behind them, and every moment nearing them, 
 but at the limit of their speed too, come the 
 lighter and fleeter citizens' team ; while opposite 
 their driver are the pintos, pulling hard, eager 
 and fresh. Their temper is too uncertain to send 
 them to the front; they run well following, but
 
 46 BLACK ROCK 
 
 when leading cannot be trusted, and besides, a 
 broncho hates a bridge; so Sandy holds them 
 where they are, waiting and hoping for his chance 
 after the bridge is crossed. Foot by foot the 
 citizens' team creep up upon the flank of the bays, 
 with the pintos in turn hugging them closely, 
 till it seems as if the three, if none slackens, must 
 strike the bridge together; and this will mean 
 destruction to one at least. This danger Sandy 
 perceives, but he dare not check his leaders. Sud- 
 denly, within a few yards of the bridge, Baptiste 
 throws himself upon the lines, wrenches them out 
 of Sandy's hands, and, with a quick swing, faces 
 the pintos down the steep side of the ravine, 
 which is almost sheer ice with a thin coat of 
 snow. It is a daring course to take, for the 
 ravine, though not deep, is full of undergrowth, 
 and is partially closed up by a brush heap at the 
 further end. But, with a yell, Baptiste hurls his 
 four horses down the slope, and into the under- 
 growth. 'Allons, mes enfants! Courage! vite, 
 vite ! ' cries their driver, and nobly do the pintos 
 respond. Regardless of bushes and brush heaps, 
 they tear their way throu jh ; but, as they emerge, 
 the hind bob-sleigh catches a root, and, with a
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 47 
 
 crash, the sleigh is hurled high in the air. 
 Baptiste's cries ring out high and shrill as ever, 
 encouraging his team, and never cease till, with 
 a plunge and a scramble, they clear the brush 
 heap lying at the mouth of the ravine, and are 
 out on the ice on the river, with Baptiste stand- 
 ing on the front bob, the box trailing behind, and 
 Sandy nowhere to be seen. 
 
 Three hundred yards of the course remain. 
 The bays, perfectly handled, have gained at the 
 bridge and in the descent to the ice, and are 
 leading the citizens' team by half a dozen sleigh 
 lengths. Behind both comes Baptiste. It is now 
 or never for the pintos. The rattle of the trailing 
 box, together with the wild yelling of the crowd 
 rushing down the bank, excites the bronchos to 
 madness, and, taking the bits in their teeth, they 
 do their first free running that day. Past the 
 citizens' team like a whirlwind they dash, clear 
 the intervening space, and gain the flanks of the 
 bays. Can the bays hold them? Over them 
 leans their driver, plying for the first time the 
 hissing lash.' Only fifty yards more. The miners 
 begin to yell. But Baptiste, waving his lines high 
 in one hand, seizes his tuque with the other,
 
 48 BLACK ROCK 
 
 whirls it about his head and flings it with a 
 fiercer yell than ever at the bronchos. Like the 
 bursting of a hurricane the pintos leap forward, 
 and with a splendid rush cross the scratch, winners 
 by their own length. 
 
 There was a wild quarter of an hour. The 
 shantymen had torn off their coats and were 
 waving them wildly and tossing them high, while 
 the ranchers added to the uproar by emptying 
 their revolvers into the air in a way that made 
 one nervous. 
 
 When the crowd was somewhat quieted Sandy's 
 stiff figure appeared, slowly making towards them. 
 A dozen lumbermen ran to him, eagerly inquiring 
 if he were hurt. But Sandy could only curse the 
 little Frenchman for losing the race. 
 
 ' Lost ! Why, man, we 've won it ! ' shouted a 
 voice, at which Sandy's rage vanished, and he 
 allowed himself to be carried in.upon the shoulders 
 of his admirers. 
 
 ' Where 's the lad ? ' was his first question. 
 The bronchos are off with him. He 's down 
 at the rapids like enough.' 
 
 'Let me go,' shouted Sandy, setting off at a 
 run in the track of the sleigh. He had not eone
 
 THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 49 
 
 far before he met Baptiste coming back with his 
 team foaming, the roans going quietly, but the 
 bronchos dancing, and eager to be at it again. 
 
 ' Voila ! bully boy ! tank the bon Dieu, Sandy ; 
 you not keel, heh? Ah! you are one grand 
 chevalier,' exclaimed Baptiste, hauling Sandy in 
 and thrusting the lines into his hands. And so 
 they came back, the sleigh box still dragging 
 behind, the pintos executing fantastic figures on 
 their hind legs, and Sandy holding them down. 
 The little Frenchman struck a dramatic attitude 
 and called out 
 
 Voila ! What 's the matter wiz Sandy, heh ? ' 
 The roar that answered set the bronchos off 
 again plunging and kicking, and only when 
 Baptiste got them by the heads could they be 
 induced to stand long enough to allow Sandy 
 to be proclaimed winner of the race. Several of 
 the lumbermen sprang into the sleigh box with 
 Sandy and Baptiste, among them Keefe, followed 
 by Nelson, and the first part of the great day 
 was over. Slavin could not understand the new 
 order of things. That a great event like the four- 
 horse race should not be followed by ' drinks all 
 round ' was to him at once disgusting and incom-
 
 50. BLACK ROCK 
 
 prehensible; and, realising his defeat for the 
 moment, he fell into the crowd and disappeared. 
 But he left behind him his 'runners.' He had 
 not yet thrown up the game. 
 
 Mr. Craig meantime came to me, and, looking 
 anxiously after Sandy in his sleigh, with his 
 frantic crowd of yelling admirers, said in a gloomy 
 voice, 'Poor Sandy! He is easily caught, and 
 Keefe has the devil's cunning.' 
 
 'He won't touch Slavin's whisky to-day/ I 
 answered confidently. 
 
 ' There '11 be twenty bottles waiting him in the 
 stable,' he replied bitterly, ' and I can't go follow- 
 ing him up.' 
 
 ' He won't stand that, no man would. God 
 help us all.' I could hardly recognise myself, for 
 I found in my heart an earnest echo to that 
 prayer as I watched him go toward the crowd 
 again, his face set in strong determination. He 
 looked like the captain of a forlorn hope, and I 
 was proud to be following him.
 
 WATERLOO 
 OUR FIGHTHIS VICTORY
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 
 
 THE sports were over, and there remained still 
 an hour to be filled in before dinner. It was an 
 hour full of danger to Craig's hopes of victory, 
 for the men were wild with excitement, and 
 ready for the most reckless means of ' slinging 
 their dust 1 I could not but admire the skill 
 with which Mr. Craig caught their attention. 
 
 4 Gentlemen,' he called out, ' we Ve forgotten 
 the judge of the great race. Three cheers for 
 Mr. Connor ! ' 
 
 Two of the shantymen picked me up and 
 hoisted me on their shoulders while the cheers 
 were given. 
 
 1 Announce the Punch and Judy,' he entreated 
 me, in a low voice. I did so in a little speech, 
 and was forthwith borne aloft, through the street 
 to the booth, followed by the whole crowd, cheer- 
 ing like mad
 
 54 BLACK ROCK 
 
 The excitement of the crowd caught me, and 
 for an hour I squeaked and worked the wires of 
 the immortal and unhappy family in a manner 
 hitherto unapproached by me at least. I was 
 glad enough when Graeme came to tell me to 
 send the men in to dinner. This Mr. Punch did 
 in the most gracious manner, and again with 
 cheers for Punch's master they trooped tumultu- 
 ously into the tent 
 
 We had only well begun when Baptiste came 
 in quietly but hurriedly and whispered to me 
 
 1 M'sieu Craig, he 's gone to Slavin's, and would 
 lak you and M'sieu Graeme would follow queek. 
 Sandy he 's take one leel drink up at de stable, 
 and he 's go mad lak one diable.' 
 
 I sent him for Graeme, who was presiding at 
 dinner, and set off for Slavin's at a run. There I 
 found Mr. Craig and Nelson holding Sandy, mora 
 than half drunk, back from Slavin, who, stripped 
 to the shirt, was coolly waiting with a taunting 
 smile. 
 
 ' Let me go, Mr. Craig,' Sandy was saying, ' I 
 am a good Presbyterian. He is a Papist thief; 
 and he has my money ; and I will have it out of 
 the soul of him.'
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 55 
 
 1 Let him go, preacher,' sneered Slavin, ' I '11 
 cool him off for yez. But ye 'd better hold him 
 if yez wants his mug left on to him.' 
 
 ' Let him go ! ' Keefe was shouting. 
 
 ' Hands off! ' Blaney was echoing. 
 
 I pushed my way in. ' What 's up ? ' I cried. 
 
 1 Mr. Connor,' said Sandy solemnly, 'it is a 
 gentleman you are, though your name is against 
 you, and I am a good Presbyterian, and I can give 
 you the Commandments and Reasons annexed 
 to them ; but yon 's a thief, a Papist thief, and I 
 am justified in getting my money out of his soul.' 
 
 ' But,' I remonstrated, ' you won't get it in this 
 way.' 
 
 1 He has my money,' reiterated Sandy. 
 
 ' He is a blank liar, and he 's afraid to take it 
 up,' said Slavin, in a low, cool tone. 
 
 With a roar Sandy broke away and rushed at 
 him ; but, without moving from his tracks, Slavin 
 met him with a straight left-hander and laid him 
 flat 
 
 ' Hooray,' yelled Blaney, * Ireland for ever!' and, 
 seizing the iron poker, swung it around his head, 
 crying, ' Back, or, by the holy Moses, I '11 kill 
 the first man that interferes wid the game.'
 
 $6 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' Give it to him ! ' Keefe said savagely. 
 
 Sandy rose slowly, gazing round stupidly. 
 
 ' He don't know what hit him,' laughed Keefe. 
 
 This roused the Highlander, and saying, ' I '11 
 settle you afterwards, Mister Keefe,' he rushed in 
 again at Slavin. Again Slavin met him again 
 with his left, staggered him, and, before he fell, 
 took a step forward and delivered a terrific right- 
 hand blow on his jaw. Poor Sandy went down 
 in a heap amid the yells of Blaney, Keefe, and 
 some others of the gang. I was in despair when 
 in came Baptiste and Graeme. 
 
 One look at Sandy, and Baptiste tore off his 
 coat and cap, slammed them on the floor, danced 
 on them, and with a long-drawn ' sap-r-r-r-rie,' 
 rushed at Slavin. But Graeme caught him by 
 the back of the neck, saying, ' Hold on, little 
 man,' and turning to Slavin, pointed to Sandy, 
 who was reviving under Nelson's care, and said, 
 What's this for? 
 
 ' Ask him,' said Slavin insolently. ' He knows.' 
 
 1 What is it, Nelson ? ' 
 
 Nelson explained that Sandy, after drinking 
 some at the stable and a glass at the Black Rock 
 Hotel, had come down here with Keefe and the
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 57 
 
 others, had lost his money, and was accusing 
 Slavin of robbing him. 
 
 'Did you furnish him with liquor?' said 
 Graeme sternly. 
 
 ' It is none of your business,' replied Slavin, 
 with an oath. 
 
 'I shall make it my business. It is not the 
 first time my men have lost money in this 
 saloon.' 
 
 ' You lie/ said Slavin, with deliberate emphasis. 
 
 1 Slavin/ said Graeme quietly, ' it 's a pity you 
 said that, because, unless you apologise in one 
 minute, I shall make you sorry.' 
 
 1 Apologise ? ' roared Slavin, ' apologise to you ? ' 
 calling him a vile name. 
 
 Graeme grew white, and said even more slowly, 
 ' Now you '11 have to take it ; no apology will 
 do.' 
 
 He slowly stripped off coat and vest. Mr. 
 Craig interposed, begging Graeme to let th 
 matter pass. ' Surely he is not worth it* 
 
 ' Mr. Craig/ said Graeme, with an easy smile, 
 'you don't understand. No man can call me 
 that name and walk around afterwards feeling 
 well*
 
 5 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Then, turning to Slavin, he said, ' Now, If yon 
 want a minute's rest, I can wait* 
 
 Slavin, with a curse, bade him come. 
 
 1 Blaney,' said Graeme sharply, ' you get back. 1 
 Blaney promptly stepped back to Keefe's side. 
 1 Nelson, you and Baptiste can see that they stay 
 there.' The old man nodded and looked at Craig, 
 who simply said, ' Do the best you can.' 
 
 It was a good fight. Slavin had plenty of 
 pluck, and for a time forced the fighting, Graeme 
 guarding easily and tapping him aggravatingly 
 about the nose and eyes, drawing blood, but not 
 disabling him. Gradually there came a look of 
 fear into Slavin's eyes, and the beads stood upon 
 his face. He had met his master. 
 
 ' Now, Slavin, you 're beginning to be sorry ; and 
 now I am going to show you what you are made 
 of. 1 Graeme made one or two lightning passes, 
 struck Slavin one, two, three terrific blows, and 
 laid him quite flat and senseless. Keefe and 
 Blaney both sprang forward, but there was a 
 savage kind of growl. 
 
 ' Hold, there ! ' It was old man Nelson looking 
 along a pistol barrel. 'You know me, Keefe, 
 he said. ' You won't do any murder this time.'
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 59 
 
 Keefe turned green and yellow, and staggered 
 back, while Slavin slowly rose to his feet 
 
 'Will you take some more?' said Graeme. 
 1 You haven't got much ; but mind I have stopped 
 playing with you. Put up your gun, Nelson. 
 No one will interfere now.' 
 
 Slavin hesitated, then rushed, but Graeme 
 stepped to meet him, and we saw Slavin's heels 
 in the air as he fell back upon his neck and 
 shoulders and lay still, with his toes quivering. 
 
 'Bon!' yelled Baptiste. 'Bully boy! Dat's 
 de bon stuff. Dat 's larn him one good lesson.' 
 But immediately he shrieked, ' Gar-r-r-r-e a vous ! ' 
 
 He was too late, for there was a crash of break- 
 ing glass, and Graeme fell to the floor with a long 
 deep cut on the side of his head. Keefe had 
 hurled a bottle with all too sure an aim, and had 
 fled. I thought he was dead ; but we carried him 
 out, and in a few minutes he groaned, opened his 
 eyes, and sank again into insensibility. 
 
 ' Where can we take him ? ' I cried. 
 
 ' To my shack,' said Mr. Craig. 
 
 ' Is there no place nearer ? ' 
 
 1 Yes ; Mrs. Mavor's. I shall run on to tell her.' 
 
 She met us at the door. I had in mind to say
 
 60 BLACK ROCK 
 
 some words of apology, but when I looked upon 
 her face I forgot my words, forgot my business 
 at her door, and stood simply looking. 
 
 ' Come in ! Bring him in ! Please do not 
 wait/ she said, and her voice was sweet and soft 
 and firm. 
 
 We laid him in a large room at the back of the 
 shop over which Mrs. Mavor lived. Together we 
 dressed the wound, her firm white fingers, skilful 
 as if with long training. Before the dressing was 
 finished I sent Craig off, for the time had come 
 for the Magic Lantern in the church, and I knew 
 how critical the moment was in our fight. ' Go/ 
 I said ; ' he is coming to, and we do not need 
 you.' 
 
 In a few moments more Graeme revived, and, 
 gazing about, asked, 'What's all this about?' 
 and then, recollecting, ' Ah ! that brute Keefe ' ; 
 then seeing my anxious face he said carelessly, 
 ' Awful bore, ain't it ? Sorry to trouble you, old 
 fellow/ 
 
 1 You be hanged ! ' I said shortly ; for his old 
 sweet smile was playing about his lips, and was 
 almost too much for me. ' Mrs. Mavor and I are 
 in command, and you must keep perfectly still. 1
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 61 
 
 'Mrs. Mavor?' he said, in surprise. She came 
 forward, with a slight flush on her face, 
 
 1 1 think you know me, Mr. Graeme.' 
 
 ' I have often seen you, and wished to know 
 you. I am sorry to bring you this trouble.' 
 
 ' You must not say so,' she replied, ' but let me 
 o all for you that I can. And now the doctor 
 ays you are to lie still.' 
 
 1 The doctor ? Oh ! you mean Connor. He is 
 hardly there yet. You don't know each other. 
 Permit me to present Mr. Connor, Mrs. Mavor.' 
 
 As she bowed slightly, her eyes looked into 
 mine with serious gaze, not inquiring, yet search- 
 ing my soul. As I looked into her eyes I forgot 
 everything about me, and when I recalled myself 
 it seemed as if I had been away in some far 
 place. It was not their colour or their brightness ; 
 I do not yet know their colour, and I have often 
 looked into them ; and they were not bright ; but 
 they were clear, and one could look far down 
 into them, and in their depths see a glowing, 
 steady light As I went to get some drugs from 
 the Black Rock doctor, I found myself wondering 
 about that far- down light ; and about her voice, 
 how it could get that sound from far away.
 
 6a BLACK ROCK 
 
 I found the doctor quite drunk, as indeed Mr. 
 Craig had warned ; but his drugs were good, and 
 I got what I wanted and quickly returned. 
 
 While Graeme slept Mrs. Mavor made me tea. 
 As the evening wore on I told her the events of 
 the day, dwelling admiringly upon Craig's general- 
 ship. She smiled at this. 
 
 ' He got me too,' she said. ' Nixon was sent to 
 me just before the sports ; and I don't think he 
 will break down to-day, and I am so thankful.' 
 And her eyes glowed. 
 
 ' I am quite sure he won't,' I thought to myself, 
 but I said no word. 
 
 After a long pause, she went on, ' I have 
 promised Mr. Craig to sing to-night, if I am 
 needed ! ' and then, after a moment's hesitation, 
 1 It is two years since I have been able to sing 
 two years/ she repeated, 'since' and then her 
 brave voice trembled ' my husband was killed.' 
 
 I 1 quite understand,' I said, having no other 
 word on my tongue. 
 
 ' And,' she went on quietly, ' I fear I have been 
 selfish. It is hard to sing the same songs. We 
 were very happy. But the miners like to hear 
 me sing, and I think perhaps it helps them to
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 63 
 
 feel less lonely, and keeps them from evil. I 
 shall try to-night, if I am needed. Mr. Craig 
 will not ask me unless he must.' 
 
 I would have seen every miner and lumberman 
 in the place hideously drunk before I would have 
 asked her to sing one song while her heart ached. 
 I wondered at Craig, and said, rather angrily 
 
 ' He thinks only of those wretched miners and 
 shantymen of his.' 
 
 She looked at me with wonder in her eyes, and 
 said gently, 'And are they not Christ's too?' 
 
 And I found no word to reply. 
 
 It was ncaring ten o'clock, and I was wonder- 
 ing how the fight was going, and hoping that 
 Mrs. Mavor would not be needed, when the door 
 opened, and old man Nelson and Sandy, the 
 latter much battered and ashamed, came in with 
 the word for Mrs. Mavor. 
 
 ' I will come,' she said simply. She saw me 
 preparing to accompany her, and asked, ' Do you 
 think you can leave him ? ' 
 
 1 He will do quite well in Nelson's care.' 
 
 ' Then I am glad ; for I must take my little 
 one with me. I did not put her to bed in case I 
 should need to go, and I may not leave her. 1
 
 64 BLACK ROCK 
 
 We entered the church by the back door, and 
 saw at once that even yet the battle might easily 
 be lost 
 
 Some miners had just come from Slavin's, 
 evidently bent on breaking up the meeting, in 
 revenge for the collapse of the dance, which 
 .Slavin was unable to enjoy, much less direct 
 Craig was gallantly holding his ground, rinding 
 it hard work to keep his men in good humour, 
 and so prevent a fight, for there were cries of 
 ' Put him out ! Put the beast out ! ' at a miner 
 half drunk and wholly outrageous. 
 
 The look of relief that came over his face when 
 Craig caught sight of us told how anxious he had 
 been, and reconciled me to Mrs. Mavor's singing. 
 1 Thank the good God,' he said, with what came 
 near being a sob, ' I was about to despair.' 
 
 He immediately walked to the front and called 
 out 
 
 'Gentlemen, if you wish it, Mrs. Mavor will 
 sing.' 
 
 There was a dead silence. Some one began to 
 applaud, but a miner said savagely, 'Stop that, 
 you fool!' 
 
 There was a few moments' delay, when from
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 65 
 
 the crowd a voice called out, ' Does Mrs. Mavor 
 wish to sing ? ' followed by cries of ' Ay, that 's 
 it.' Then Shaw, the foreman at the mines, stood 
 up in the audience and said 
 
 ' Mr. Craig and gentlemen, you know that three 
 years ago I was known as "Old Ricketts," and 
 that I owe all I am to-night, under God, to 
 Mrs. Mavor, and ' with a little quiver in his 
 voice 'her baby. And we all know that for 
 two years she has not sung; and we all know 
 why. And what I say is, that if she does not feel 
 like singing to-night, she is not going to sing to 
 keep any drunken brute of Slavin's crowd quiet' 
 
 There were deep growls of approval all over 
 the church. I could have hugged Shaw then and 
 there. Mr. Craig went to Mrs. Mavor, and after 
 a word with her came back and said 
 
 'Mrs. Mavor wishes me to thank her dear 
 friend Mr. Shaw, but says she would like to 
 sing.' 
 
 The response was perfect stillness. Mr. Craig 
 sat down to the organ and played the opening 
 bars of the touching melody, 'Oft in the Stilly 
 Night.' Mrs. Mavor came to the front, and, with 
 a smile of exquisite sweetness upon her sad face,
 
 66 BLACK ROCK 
 
 and looking straight at us with her glorious eyes, 
 began to sing. 
 
 Her voice, a rich soprano, even and true, rose 
 and fell, now soft, now strong, but always filling 
 the building, pouring around us floods of music. 
 I had heard Patti's ' Home, sweet Home,' and of 
 all singing that alone affected me as did this. 
 
 At the end of the first verse the few women in 
 the church and some men were weeping quietly ; 
 but when she began the words 
 
 ' When I remember all 
 The friends once linked together,' 
 
 sobs came on every side from these tender- 
 hearted fellows, and Shaw quite lost his grip. 
 But she sang steadily on, the tone clearer and 
 sweeter and fuller at every note, and when the 
 sound of her voice died away, she stood looking 
 at the men as if in wonder that they should weep. 
 No one moved. Mr. Craig played softly on, and, 
 wandering through many variations, arrived at 
 
 last at 
 
 'Jesus, lover of my soul- 
 
 As she sang the appealing words, her face was 
 lifted up, and she saw none of us ; but she must
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 67 
 
 have seen some one, for the cry in her voice could 
 only come from one who could see and feel help 
 close at hand. On and on went the glorious 
 voice, searching my soul's depths ; but when she 
 came to the words 
 
 1 Thou, O Christ, art all I want,' 
 
 she stretched up her arms she had quite for- 
 gotten us, her voice had borne her to other worlds 
 and sang with such a passion of abandon that 
 my soul was ready to surrender anything, every- 
 thing. 
 
 Again Mr. Craig wandered on through his 
 changing chords till again he came to familiar 
 ground, and the voice began, in low, thrilling 
 tones, Bernard's great song of home 
 
 'Jerusalem the golden.' 
 
 Every word, with all its weight of meaning, 
 came winging to our souls, till we found ourselves 
 gazing afar into those stately halls of Zion, with 
 their daylight serene and their jubilant throngs. 
 When the singer came to the last verse there 
 was a pause. Again Mr. Craig softly played the 
 interlude, but still there was no voice. I looked 
 up. She was very white, and her eyes were
 
 68 BLACK ROCK 
 
 glowing with their deep light. Mr. Craig looked 
 quickly about, saw her, stopped, and half rose, as 
 if to go to her, when, in a voice that seemed to 
 come from a far-off land, she went on 
 
 ' O sweet and blessed country 1 ' 
 
 The longing, the yearning, in the second ' O ' were 
 indescribable. Again and again, as she held that 
 word, and then dropped down with the cadence 
 in the music, my heart ached for I knew not 
 what 
 
 The audience were sitting as in a trance. The 
 grimy faces of the miners, for they never get 
 quite white, were furrowed with the tear-courses. 
 Shaw, by this time, had his face too lifted high, 
 his eyes gazing far above the singer's head, and 
 I knew by the rapture in his face that he was 
 seeing, as she saw, the thronging stately halls and 
 the white-robed conquerors. He had felt, and 
 was still feeling, all the stress of the fight, and to 
 him the vision of the conquerors in their glory 
 was soul-drawing and soul-stirring. And Nixon, 
 too he had his vision ; but what he saw was the 
 face of the singer, with the shining eyes, and, by 
 the look of him, that was vision enough.
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 69 
 
 Immediately after her last note Mrs. Mavor 
 stretched out her hands to her little girl, who was 
 sitting on my knee, caught her up, and, holding 
 her close to her breast, walked quickly behind 
 the curtain. Not a sound followed the singing: 
 no one moved till she had disappeared ; and then 
 Mr. Craig came to the front, and, motioning to 
 me to follow Mrs. Mavor, began in a low, distinct 
 voice 
 
 ' Gentlemen, it was not easy for Mrs. Mavor to 
 sing for us, and you know she sang because she 
 is a miner's wife, and her heart is with the miners. 
 But she sang, too, because her heart is His who 
 came to earth this day so many years ago to save 
 us all; and she would make you love Him too. 
 For in loving Him you are saved from all base 
 loves, and you know what I mean. 
 
 'And before we say good-night, men, I want 
 to know if the time is not come when all of you 
 who mean to be better than you, are should join 
 in putting from us this thing that has brought 
 sorrow and shame to us and to those we love? 
 You know what I mean. Some of you are 
 strong; will you stand by and see weaker men 
 robbed of the money they save for those far
 
 70 BLACK ROCK 
 
 away, and robbed of the manhood that no money 
 can buy or restore ? 
 
 1 Will the strong men help ? Shall we all join 
 hands in this ? What do you say ? In this town 
 we have often seen hell, and just a moment ago 
 we were all looking into heaven, " the sweet and 
 blessed country." O men ! ' and his voice rang 
 in an agony through the building ' O men ! 
 which shall be ours? For Heaven's dear sake, 
 let us help one another ! Who will ? ' 
 
 I was looking out through a slit in the curtain. 
 The men, already wrought to intense feeling by 
 the music, were listening with set faces and 
 gleaming eyes, and as at the appeal ' Who will ? ' 
 Craig raised high his hand, Shaw, Nixon, and a 
 hundred men sprang to their feet and held high 
 their hands. 
 
 I have witnessed some thrilling scenes in my 
 life, but never anything to equal that: the one 
 man on the platform standing at full height, with 
 his hand thrown up to heaven, and the hundred 
 men below standing straight, with arms up at 
 full length, silent, and almost' motionless. 
 
 For a moment Craig held them so ; and again 
 his voice rang out, louder, sterner than before
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 71 
 
 ' All who mean it, say, " By God's help, I will." ' 
 
 And back from a hundred throats came deep 
 and strong the words, ' By God's help, I will.' 
 
 At this point Mrs. Mavor, whom I had quite 
 forgotten, put her hand on my arm. 'Go and 
 tell him,' she panted, ' I want them to come on 
 Thursday night, as they used to in the other days 
 go quick,' and she almost pushed me out. I 
 gave Craig her message. He held up his hand 
 for silence. 
 
 ' Mrs. Mavor wishes me to say that she will be 
 glad to see you all, as in the old days, on Thurs- 
 day evening ; and I can think of no better place 
 to give formal expression to our pledge of this 
 night' 
 
 There was a shout of acceptance ; and then, at 
 some one's call, the long pent-up feelings of the 
 crowd found vent in three mighty cheers for Mrs. 
 Mavor. 
 
 ' Now for our old hymn,' called out Mr. Craig, 
 1 and Mrs. Mavor will lead us.' 
 
 He sat down at the organ, played a few bars 
 of ' The Sweet By and By,' and then Mrs. Mavor 
 began. But not a soul joined till the refrain was 
 reached, and then they sang as only men with
 
 7t BLACK ROCK 
 
 their hearts on fire can sing. But after the last 
 refrain Mr. Craig made a sign to Mrs. Mavor, 
 and she sang alone, slowly and softly, and with 
 eyes looking far away 
 
 1 In the sweet by and by, 
 
 We shall meet on that beautiful shore. 1 
 
 There was no benediction there seemed no 
 need ; and the men went quietly out But over 
 and over again the voice kept singing in my ears 
 and in my heart, ' We shall meet on that beautiful 
 shore.' And after the sleigh- loads of men had 
 gone and left the street empty, as I stood with 
 Craig in the radiant moonlight that made the 
 great mountains about come near us, from Sandy's 
 sleigh we heard in the distance Baptiste's French- 
 English song; but the song that floated down 
 with the sound of the bells from the miners' sleigh 
 was 
 
 ' We shall meet on that beautiful shore. 1 
 
 1 Poor old Shaw 1 * said Craig softly. 
 When the last sound had died away I turned 
 to him and said 
 
 ' You have won your fight' 
 
 'We have won our fight; I was beaten/ he
 
 WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTORY 73 
 
 replied quickly, offering me his hand. Then, 
 taking off his cap, and looking up beyond the 
 mountain-tops and the silent stars, he added 
 softly, ' Our fight, but His victory.' 
 
 And, thinking it all over, I could not say but 
 perhaps he was right
 
 MRS MAYOR'S STORY
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 
 
 THE days that followed the Black Rock Christ- 
 mas were anxious days and weary, but not for 
 the brightest of my life would I change them 
 now ; for, as after the burning heat or rocking 
 storm the dying day lies beautiful in the tender 
 glow of the evening, so these days have lost their 
 weariness and lie bathed in a misty glory. The 
 years that bring us many ills, and that pass so 
 stormfully over us, bear away with them the ugli- 
 ness, the weariness, the pain that are theirs, but 
 the beauty, the sweetness, the rest they leave 
 untouched, for these are eternal. As the moun- 
 tains, that near at hand stand jagged and scarred, 
 in the far distance repose in their soft robes of 
 purple haze, so the rough present fades into the 
 past, soft and sweet and beautiful. 
 
 I have set myself to recall the pain and anxiety 
 
 it
 
 78 BLACK ROCK 
 
 of those days and nights when we waited in fear 
 for the turn of the fever, but I can only think of 
 the patience and gentleness and courage of her 
 who stood beside me, bearing more than half 
 my burden. And while I can see the face of 
 Leslie Graeme, ghastly or flushed, and hear 
 his low moaning or the broken words of his 
 delirium, I think chiefly of the bright face bend- 
 ing over him, and of the cool, firm, swift-moving 
 hands that soothed and smoothed and rested, 
 and the voice, like the soft song of a bird in the 
 twilight, that never failed to bring peace. 
 
 Mrs. Mavor and I were much together during 
 those days. I made my home in Mr. Craig's 
 shack, but most of my time was spent beside 
 my friend. We did not see much of Craig, for 
 he was heart-deep with the miners, laying plans 
 for the making of the League the following 
 Thursday; and though he shared our anxiety 
 and was ever ready to relieve us, his thought 
 and his talk had mostly to do with the League. 
 
 Mrs. Mavor's evenings were given to the miners, 
 but her afternoons mostly to Graeme and to me, 
 and then it was I saw another side of her char- 
 acter. We would sit in her little dining-room,
 
 MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 79 
 
 where the pictures on the walls, the quaint old 
 silver, and bits of curiously cut glass, all spoke 
 of other and different days, and thence we would 
 roam the world of literature and art. Keenly 
 sensitive to all the good and beautiful in these, 
 she had her favourites among the masters, for 
 whom she was ready to do battle ; and when 
 her argument, instinct with fancy and vivid imagi- 
 nation, failed, she swept away all opposing opinion 
 with the swift rush of her enthusiasm ; so that, 
 though I felt she was beaten, I was left without 
 words to reply. Shakespeare and Tennyson and 
 Burns she loved, but not Shelley, nor Byron, nor 
 even Wordsworth. Browning she knew not, and 
 therefore could not rank him with her noblest 
 three ; but when I read to her ' A Death in the 
 Desert,' and came to the noble words at the end 
 of the tale 
 
 ' For all was as I say, and now the man 
 Lies as he once lay, breast to breast with God, 1 
 
 the light shone in her eyes, and she said, ' Oh, that 
 is good and great ; I shall get much out of him ; 
 I had always feared he was impossible.' And 
 1 Paracelsus,' too, stirred her ; but when I recited
 
 So BLACK ROCK 
 
 the thrilling fragment, 'Prospice,' on to that 
 closing rapturous cry 
 
 4 Then a light, then thy breast, 
 O thou soul of my soul I I shall clasp thee again, 
 And with God be the rest !' 
 
 the red colour faded from her cheek, her breath 
 came in a sob, and she rose quickly and passed 
 out without a word. Ever after, Browning was 
 among her gods. But when we talked of music, 
 she, adoring Wagner, soared upon the wings of 
 the mighty Tannhauser, far above, into regions 
 unknown, leaving me to walk soberly with 
 Beethoven and Mendelssohn. Yet with all our 
 free, frank talk, there was all the while that in her 
 gentle courtesy which kept me from venturing 
 into any chamber of her life whose door she did 
 not set freely open to me. So I vexed myself 
 about her, and when Mr. Craig returned the 
 next week from the Landing where he had been 
 for some days, my first question was 
 
 'Who is Mrs. Mavor? And how in the name 
 of all that is wonderful and unlikely does she 
 come to be here ? And why does she stay ? ' 
 
 He would not answer then,; whether it was 
 that his mind was full of the coming struggle, or
 
 MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 81 
 
 whether he shrank from the tale, I know not; 
 but that night, when we sat together beside his 
 fire, he told me the story, while I smoked. He 
 was worn with his long, hard drive, and with 
 the burden of his work, but as he went on with 
 his tale, looking into the fire as he told it, he 
 forgot all his present weariness and lived again 
 the scenes he painted for me. This was his 
 story : 
 
 ' I remember well my first sight of her, as she 
 sprang from the front seat of the stage to the 
 ground, hardly touching her husband's hand. 
 She looked a mere girl. Let's see five years 
 ago she couldn't have been a day over twenty- 
 three. She looked barely twenty. Her swift 
 glance swept over the group of miners at the 
 hotel door, and then rested on the mountains 
 standing in all their autumn glory. 
 
 'I was proud of our mountains that even- 
 ing. Turning to her husband, she exclaimed: 
 " O Lewis, are they not grand ? and lovely, 
 too?" Every miner lost his heart then and 
 there, but all waited for Abe the driver to give 
 his verdict before venturing an opinion. Abe 
 said nothing until he had taken a preliminary
 
 8a BLACK ROCK 
 
 drink, and then, calling all hands to fill up, he 
 lifted his glass high, and said solemnly 
 
 '"Boys, here's to her." 
 
 'Like a flash every glass was emptied, and 
 Abe called out, " Fill her up again, boys 1 My 
 treat!" 
 
 ' He was evidently quite worked up. Then 
 he began, with solemn emphasis 
 
 ' " Boys, you hear me ! She 's a No. I, triple X, 
 
 the pure quill with a bead on it : she 's a , 
 
 and for the first time in his Black Rock history 
 Abe was stuck for a word. Some one suggested 
 " angel." 
 
 ' " Angel ! " repeated Abe, with infinite con- 
 tempt. " Angel be blowed " (I paraphrase here) ; 
 " angels ain't in the same month with her ; I 'd 
 like to see any blanked angel swing my team 
 around them curves without a shiver." 
 
 '"Held the lines herself, Abe?" asked a 
 miner. 
 
 ' " That 's what," said Abe ; and then he went 
 off into a fusilade of scientific profanity, ex- 
 pressive of his esteem for the girl who had swung 
 his team round the curves ; and the miners 
 nodded to each other, and winked their entire
 
 MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 83 
 
 approval of Abe's performance, for this was his 
 specialty. 
 
 * Very decent fellow, Abe, but his talk wouldn't 
 print.' 
 
 Here Craig paused, as if balancing Abe's 
 virtues and vices. 
 
 1 Well,' I urged, ' who is she ? ' 
 
 'Oh yes,' he said, recalling himself; 'she is 
 an Edinburgh young lady met Lewis Mavor, a 
 young Scotch- English man, in London wealthy, 
 good family, and all that, but fast, and going to 
 pieces at home. His people, who own large 
 shares in these mines here, as a last resort sent 
 him out here to reform. Curiously innocent ideas 
 those old country people have of the reforming 
 properties of this atmosphere ! They send their 
 young bloods here to reform. Here! in this 
 devil's camp-ground, where a man's lust is his 
 only law, and when, from sheer monotony, a 
 man must betake himself to the only excitement 
 of the place that offered by the saloon. Good 
 people in the east hold up holy hands of horror 
 at these godless miners ; but I tell you it 's asking 
 these boys a good deal to keep straight and clean 
 in a place like this. I take my excitement in
 
 84 BLACK ROCK 
 
 fighting the devil and doing my work generally, 
 and that gives me enough ; but these poor chaps 
 hard worked, homeless, with no break or change 
 God help them and me ! ' and his voice sank low, 
 1 Well/ I persisted, ' did Mavor reform ? ' 
 Again he roused himself. ' Reform ? Not 
 exactly. In six months he had broken through 
 all restraint; and, mind you, not the miners' 
 fault not a miner helped him down. It was a 
 sight to make angels weep when Mrs. Mavor 
 would come to the saloon door for her husband. 
 Every miner would vanish ; they could not look 
 upon her shame, and they would send Mavor 
 forth in the charge of Billy Breen, a queer little 
 chap, who had belonged to the Mavors in some 
 way in the old country, and between them they 
 would get him home. How she stood it puzzles 
 me to this day ; but she never made any sign, and 
 her courage never failed. It was always a bright, 
 brave, proud face she held up to the world 
 except in church ; there it was different I used 
 to preach my sermons, I believe, mostly for her 
 but never so that she could suspect as bravely 
 and as cheerily as I could. And as she listened, 
 and especially as she sang how she used to sing
 
 MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 85 
 
 in those days ! there was no touch of pride in 
 her face, though the courage never died out, but 
 appeal, appeal ! I could have cursed aloud the 
 cause of her misery, or wept for the pity of it. 
 Before her baby was born he seemed to pull 
 himself together, for he was quite mad about her, 
 and from the day the baby came talk about 
 miracles ! from that day he never drank a drop. 
 She gave the baby over to him, and the baby 
 simply absorbed him. 
 
 'He was a new man. He could not drink 
 whisky and kiss his baby. And the miners it 
 was really absurd if it were not so pathetic. It 
 was the first baby in Black Rock, and they used 
 to crowd Mavor's shop and peep into the room 
 at the back of it I forgot to tell you that when 
 he lost his position as manager he opened a 
 hardware shop, for his people chucked him, and 
 he was too proud to write home for money just 
 for a chance to be asked in to see the baby. I 
 came upon Nixon standing at the back of the 
 shop after he had seen the baby for the first time, 
 sobbing hard, and to my question he replied : 
 "It's just like my own." You can't understand 
 this. But to men who have lived so long in the
 
 86 BLACK ROCK 
 
 mountains that they have forgotten what a baby 
 looks like, who have had experience of humanity 
 only in its roughest, foulest form, this little mite, 
 sweet and clean, was like an angel fresh from 
 heaven, the one link in all that black camp that 
 bound them to what was purest and best in their 
 past 
 
 ' And to see the mother and her baby handle 
 the miners ! 
 
 4 Oh, it was all beautiful beyond words ! I shall 
 never forget the shock I got one night when 
 I found "Old Ricketts" nursing the baby. A 
 drunken old beast he was ; but there he was 
 sitting, sober enough, making extraordinary faces 
 at the baby, who was grabbing at his nose and 
 whiskers and cooing in blissful delight. Poor 
 " Old Ricketts " looked as if he had been caught 
 stealing, and muttering something about having 
 to go. gazed wildly round for some place in which 
 to lay the baby, when in came the mother, saying 
 in her own sweet, frank way : " O Mr. Ricketts " 
 (she didn't find out till afterwards his name was 
 Shaw), " would you mind keeping her just a little 
 longer? I shall be back in a few minutes." And 
 " Old Ricketts " guessed he could wait
 
 MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 87 
 
 1 But in six months mother and baby, between 
 them, transformed " Old Ricketts " into Mr. Shaw, 
 fire-boss of the mines. And then in the evenings, 
 when she would be singing her baby to sleep, the 
 little shop would be full of miners, listening in 
 dead silence to the baby-songs, and the English 
 songs, and the Scotch songs she poured forth 
 without stint, for she sang more for them than 
 for her baby. No wonder they adored her. 
 She was so bright, so gay, she brought light with 
 her when she went into the camp, into the pits 
 for she went down to see the men work or into 
 a sick miner's shack ; and many a man, lonely 
 and sick for home or wife, or baby or mother, 
 found in that back room cheer and comfort and 
 courage, and to many a poor broken wretch that 
 room became, as one miner put it, " the anteroom 
 to heaven." ' 
 
 Mr. Craig paused, and I waited. Then he went 
 on slowly 
 
 I For a year and a half that was the happiest 
 home in all the world, till one day ' 
 
 He put his face in his hands, and shuddered. 
 
 I 1 don't think I can ever forget the awful 
 horror of that bright fall afternoon, when "OJ-J
 
 88 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Ricketts" came breathless to me and gasped, 
 " Come ! for the dear Lord's sake," and I rushed 
 after him. At the mouth of the shaft lay three 
 men dead. One was Lewis Mavor. He had 
 gone down to superintend the running of a new 
 drift ; the two men, half drunk with Slavin's 
 whisky, set off a shot prematurely, to their 
 own and Mayor's destruction. They were badly 
 burned, but his face was untouched. A miner 
 was sponging off the bloody froth oozing from 
 his lips. The others were standing about waiting 
 for me to speak. But I could find no word, for 
 my heart was sick, thinking, as they were, of the 
 young mother and her baby waiting at home. 
 So I stood, looking stupidly from one to the 
 other, trying to find some reason coward that I 
 was why another should bear the news rather 
 than I. And while we stood there, looking at 
 one another in fear, there broke upon us the 
 sound of a voice mounting high above the birch 
 tops, singing 
 
 "Will ye no' come back again? 
 Will ye no' come back again ? 
 Better lo'ed ye canna be, 
 Will ye no' come back again ?*
 
 MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 89 
 
 1 A strange terror seized us. Instinctively the 
 men closed up in front of the body, and stood in 
 silence. Nearer and nearer came the clear, sweet 
 voice, ringing like a silver bell up the steep 
 
 * " Sweet the lav*rock's note and lang, 
 
 Liltin' wildly up the glen, 
 But aye tae me he sings ae sang, 
 Will ye no' come back again ? " 
 
 ' Before the verse was finished " Old Ricketts " 
 had dropped on his knees, sobbing out brokenly, 
 " O God ! O God ! have pity, have pity, have 
 pity ! " and every man took off his hat And 
 still the voice came nearer, singing so brightly 
 the refrain, 
 
 ' M Will ye no* come back again ? " 
 
 ' It became unbearable. " Old Ricketts " sprang 
 suddenly to his feet, and, gripping me by the 
 arm, said piteously, " Oh, go to her ! for Heaven's 
 sake, go to her ! " I next remember standing in 
 her path and seeing her holding out her hands 
 full of red lilies, crying out, "Are they not 
 lovely ? Lewis is so fond of them ! " With the 
 promise of much finer ones I turned her down 
 a path toward the river, talking I know not what
 
 90 BLACK ROCK 
 
 folly, till her great eyes grew grave, then anxious, 
 and my tongue stammered and became silent 
 Then, laying her hand upon my arm, she said 
 with gentle sweetness, "Tell me your trouble, 
 Mr. Craig," and I knew my agony had come, 
 and I burst out, "Oh, if it were only mine!" 
 She turned quite white, and with her deep eyes 
 you've noticed her eyes drawing the truth out 
 of mine, she said, " Is it mine, Mr. Craig, and my 
 baby's ? " I waited, thinking with what words to 
 begin. She put one hand to her heart, and with 
 the other caught a little poplar-tree that shivered 
 under her grasp, and said with white lips, but 
 even more gently, M Tell me." I wondered at my 
 voice being so steady as I said, " Mrs. Mavor, 
 God will help you and your baby. There has 
 been an accident and it is all over." 
 
 ' She was a miner's wife, and there was no need 
 for more. I could see the pattern of the sunlight 
 falling through the trees upon the grass. I could 
 hear the murmur of the river, and the cry of the 
 cat-bird in the bushes, but we seemed to be in a 
 strange and unreal world. Suddenly she stretched 
 out her hands to me, and with a little moan said, 
 "Take me to him."
 
 MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 91 
 
 '"Sit down for a moment or two," I entreated. 
 
 ' " No, no ! I am quite ready. See," she added 
 quietly, " I am quite strong." 
 
 4 1 set off by a short cut leading to her home, 
 hoping the men would be there before us; but, 
 passing me, she walked swiftly through the trees, 
 and I followed in fear. As we came near the 
 main path I heard the sound of feet, and I tried 
 to stop her, but she, too, had heard and knew 
 " Oh, let me go ! " she said piteously ; " you need 
 not fear." And I had not the heart to stop her. 
 In a little opening among the pines we met the 
 bearers. When the men saw her, they laid their 
 burden gently down upon the carpet of yellow 
 pine-needles, and then, for they had the hearts 
 of true men in them, they went away into the 
 bushes and left her alone with her dead. She 
 went swiftly to his side, making no cry, but 
 kneeling beside him she stroked his face and 
 hands, and touched his curls with her fingers, 
 murmuring all the time soft words of love. " O 
 my darling, my bonnie, bonnie darling, speak to 
 me! Will ye not speak to me just one little 
 word ? O my love, my love, my heart's love ! 
 Listen, my darling!" And she put her lips to
 
 92 BLACK ROCK 
 
 his ear, whispering, and then the awful stillness. 
 Suddenly she lifted her head and scanned his 
 face, and then, glancing round with a wild 
 surprise in her eyes, she cried, " He will not 
 speak to me ! Oh, he will not speak to me ! " I 
 signed to the men, and as they came forward 
 I went to her and took her hands. 
 
 ' "Oh," she said with a wail in her voice; " he will 
 not speak to me." The men were sobbing aloud. 
 She looked at them with wide-open eyes of 
 wonder. "Why are they weeping? Will he 
 never speak to me again ? Tell me," she insisted 
 gently. The words were running through my 
 head 
 
 1 " There 's a land that is fairer than day," 
 and I said them over to her, holding her hands 
 firmly in mine. She gazed at me as if in a dream, 
 and the light slowly faded from her eyes as she 
 said, tearing her hands from mine and waving 
 them towards the mountains and the woods 
 1 " But never more here ? Never more here ? " 
 ' I believe in heaven and the other life, but I 
 confess that for a moment it all seemed shadowy 
 beside the reality of this warm, bright world, full 
 of life and love. She was very ill for two nights^
 
 MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 93 
 
 and when the coffin was closed a new baby lay 
 in the father's arms. 
 
 1 She slowly came back to life, but there were 
 no more songs. The miners still come about her 
 shop, and talk to her baby, and bring her their 
 sorrows and troubles ; but though she is always 
 gentle, almost tender, with them, no man ever 
 says " Sing." And that is why I am glad she 
 sang last week ; it will be good for her and good 
 for them.' 
 
 ' Why does she stay ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' Mavor's people wanted her to go to them/ he 
 replied. 
 
 1 They have money she told me about it, but 
 her heart is in the grave up there under the pines ; 
 and besides, she hopes to do something for the 
 miners, and she will not leave them.' 
 
 I am afraid I snorted a little impatiently as I 
 said, ' Nonsense ! why, with her face, and manner, 
 and voice she could be anything she liked in 
 Edinburgh or in London.' 
 
 'And why Edinburgh or London?' he asked 
 coolly. 
 
 'Why?' I repeated a little hotly. 'You think 
 this is better ? '
 
 94 BLACK ROCK 
 
 'Nazareth was good enough for the Lord of 
 glory/ he answered, with a smile none too bright ; 
 but it drew my heart to him, and my heat was 
 gone. 
 
 ' How long will she stay ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' Till her work is done,' he replied. 
 
 'And when will that be?' I asked impatiently. 
 
 ' When God chooses,' he answered gravely ; 
 'and don't you ever think but that it is worth 
 while. One value of work is not that crowds 
 stare at it. Read history, man ! ' 
 
 He rose abruptly and began to walk about. 
 1 And don't miss the whole meaning of the Life 
 that lies at the foundation of your religion. Yes,' 
 he added to himself, ' the work is worth doing 
 worth even her doing.' 
 
 I could not think so then, but the light of the 
 after years proved him wiser than I. A man, to 
 see far, must climb to some height, and I was too 
 much upon the plain in those days to catch even 
 a glimpse of distant sunlit uplands of triumphant 
 achievement that lie beyond the valley of self- 
 sacrifice;
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 
 
 THURSDAY morning found Craig anxious, even 
 gloomy, but with fight in every line of his face. 
 I tried to cheer him in my clumsy way by chaff- 
 ing him about his League. But he did not blaze 
 up as he often did. It was a thing too near his 
 heart for that. He only shrank a little from my 
 stupid chaff and said 
 
 ' Don't, old chap ; this is a good deal to me. 
 I Ve tried for two years to get this, and if it falls 
 through now, I shall find it hard to bear.' 
 
 Then I repented my light words and said, 
 ' Why ! the thing will go sure enough : after that 
 scene in the church they won't go back.' 
 
 ' Poor fellows ! ' he said as if to himself; ' whisky 
 is about the only excitement they have, and they 
 find it pretty tough to give it up ; and a lot of 
 the men are against the total abstinence idea. 
 It seems rot to them.'
 
 98 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' It is pretty steep/ I said. ' Can't you do 
 without it ? ' 
 
 ' No ; I fear not. There is nothing else for it 
 Some of them talk of compromise. They want 
 to quit the saloon and drink quietly in their 
 shacks. The moderate drinker may have his 
 place in other countries, though I can't see it. I 
 haven't thought that out, but here the only safe 
 man is- the man who quits it dead and fights it 
 straight; anything else is sheerest humbug and 
 nonsense.' 
 
 I had not gone in much for total abstinence up 
 to this time, chiefly because its advocates seemed 
 for the most part to be somewhat ill-balanced ; 
 but as I listened to Craig, I began to feel that 
 perhaps there was a total abstinence side to the 
 temperance question ; and as to Black Rock, I 
 could see how it must be one thing or the 
 other. 
 
 We found Mrs. Mavor brave and bright. She 
 shared Mr. Craig's anxiety but not his gloom. 
 Her courage was of that serene kind that refuses 
 to believe defeat possible, and lifts the spirit into 
 the triumph of final victory. Through the past 
 week she had been carefully disposing her forces
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 99 
 
 and winning recruits. And yet she never seemed 
 to urge or persuade the men ; but as evening after 
 evening the miners dropped into the cosy room 
 downstairs, with her talk and her songs she 
 charmed them till they were wholly hers. She 
 took for granted their loyalty, trusted them 
 utterly, and so made it difficult for them to be 
 other than true men. 
 
 That night Mrs. Mavor's large storeroom, 
 which had been fitted up with seats, was 
 crowded with miners when Mr. Craig and I 
 entered. 
 
 After a glance over the crowd, Craig said, 
 1 There 's the manager ; that means war.' And I 
 saw a tall man, very fair, whose chin fell away to 
 the vanishing point, and whose hair was parted 
 in the middle, talking to Mrs. Mavor. She was 
 dressed in some rich soft stuff that became her 
 well. She was looking beautiful as ever, but 
 there was something quite new in her manner. 
 Her air of good-fellowship was gone, and she was 
 the high-bred lady, whose gentle dignity and 
 sweet grace, while very winning, made familiarity 
 impossible. 
 
 The manager was doing his best, and appeared
 
 ioo BLACK ROCK 
 
 to be well pleased with himself. ' She '11 get him 
 if any one can. I failed,' said Craig. 
 
 I stood looking at the men, and a fine lot of 
 fellows they were. Free, easy, bold in their 
 bearing, they gave no sign of rudeness ; and, 
 from their frequent glances toward Mrs. Mavor, 
 I could see they were always conscious of her 
 presence. No men are so truly gentle as are the 
 Westerners in the presence of a good woman. 
 They were evidently of all classes and ranks 
 originally, but now, and in this country of real 
 measurements, they ranked simply according to 
 the ' man ' in them. ' See that handsome young 
 chap of dissipated appearance ? ' said Craig ; 
 'that's Vernon Winton, an Oxford graduate, 
 blue blood, awfully plucky, but quite gone. 
 When he gets repentant, instead of shooting him- 
 self, he comes to Mrs. Mavor. Fact' 
 
 ' From Oxford University to Black Rock mining 
 camp is something of a step,' I replied. 
 
 ' That queer- looking little chap in the corner 
 is Billy Breen. How in the world has he got 
 here ? ' went on Mr. Craig. Queer-looking he 
 was. A little man, with a small head set on 
 heavy square shoulders, long arms, and huge
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 101 
 
 hands that sprawled all over his body ; altogether 
 a most ungainly specimen of humanity. 
 
 By this time Mrs. Mavor had finished with the 
 manager, and was in the centre of a group of 
 miners. Her grand air was all gone, and she 
 was their comrade, their friend, one of themselves. 
 Nor did she assume the rdle of entertainer, but 
 rather did she, with half-shy air, cast herself upon 
 their chivalry, and they were too truly gentlemen 
 to fail her. It is hard to make Western men, and 
 especially old-timers, talk. But this gift was 
 hers, and it stirred my admiration to see her 
 draw on a grizzled veteran to tell how, twenty 
 years ago, he had crossed the Great Divide, and 
 had seen and done what no longer fell to men 
 to see or do in these new days. And so she won 
 the old-timer. But it was beautiful to see the 
 innocent guile with which she caught Billy Breen, 
 and drew him to her corner near the organ. 
 What she was saying I knew not, but poor Billy 
 was protesting, waving his big hands. 
 
 The meeting came to order, with Shaw in the 
 chair, and the handsome young Oxford man 
 secretary. Shaw stated the object of the meeting 
 in a few halting words ; but when he came to
 
 zoa BLACK ROCK 
 
 speak of the pleasure he and all felt in being 
 together in that room, his words flowed in a 
 stream, warm and full. Then there was a pause, 
 and Mr. Craig was called. But he knew better 
 than to speak at that point Finally Nixon rose 
 hesitatingly; but, as he caught a bright smile 
 from Mrs. Mavor, he straightened himself as if 
 for a fight 
 
 ' I ain't no good at makin' speeches,' he began ; 
 'but it ain't speeches we want. We've got some- 
 thin' to do, and what we want to know is how to 
 do it And to be right plain, we want to know 
 how to drive this cursed whisky out of Black 
 Rock. You all know what it 's doing for us at 
 least for some of us. And it's time to stop it 
 now, or for some of us it '11 mighty soon be too 
 late. And the only way to stop its work is to 
 quit drinkin' it and help others to quit I heat 
 some talk of a League, and what I say is, if it 's 
 a League out and out against whisky, a Total 
 Abstinence right to the ground, then I 'm with it 
 that's my talk I move we make that kind 
 of League.' 
 
 Nixon sat down amid cheers and a chorus of 
 remarks, ' Good man ! ' ' That 's the talk I ' ' Stay
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 103 
 
 with it!' but he waited for the smile and the 
 glance that came to him from the beautiful face 
 in the corner, and with that he seemed content. 
 
 Again there was silence. Then the secretary 
 rose with a slight flush upon his handsome, 
 delicate face, and seconded the motion. If they 
 would pardon a personal reference he would give 
 them his reasons. He had come to this country 
 to make his fortune; now he was anxious to 
 make enough to enable him to go home with 
 some degree of honour. His home held every- 
 thing that was dear to him. Between him and 
 that home, between him and all that was good 
 and beautiful and honourable, stood whisky. ' I 
 am ashamed to confess/ and the flush deepened 
 on his cheek, and his lips grew thinner, 'that I 
 feel the need of some such league.' His hand- 
 some face, his perfect style of address, learned 
 possibly in the 'Union,' but, more than all, his 
 show of nerve for these men knew how to value 
 that made a strong impression on his audience ; 
 but there were no following cheers. 
 
 Mr. Craig appeared hopeful ; but on Mrs. Mavor's 
 face there was a look of wistful, tender pity, for 
 she knew how much the words had cost the lad.
 
 104 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Then up rose a sturdy, hard-featured man, with 
 a burr in his voice that proclaimed his birth. His 
 name was George Crawford, I afterwards learned, 
 but every one called him Geordie. He was a 
 character in his way, fond of his glass ; but though 
 he was never known to refuse a drink, he was 
 never known to be drunk. He took his drink, 
 for the most part, with bread and cheese in his 
 own shack, or with a friend or two in a sober, 
 respectable way, but never could be induced to 
 join the wild carousals in Slavin's saloon. He 
 made the highest wages, but was far too true a 
 Scot to spend his money recklessly. Every one 
 waited eagerly to hear Geordie's mind. He spoke 
 solemnly, as befitted a Scotsman expressing a 
 deliberate opinion, and carefully, as if choosing 
 his best English, for when Geordie became excited 
 no one in Black Rock could understand him. 
 
 ' Maister Chairman,' said Geordie, ' I 'm aye for 
 temperance in a' things.' There was a shout of 
 laughter, at which Geordie gazed round in pained 
 surprise. ' I '11 no* deny,' he went on in an 
 explanatory tone, ' that I tak ma mornin', an' 
 maybe a nip at noon, an' a wee drap aifter wark 
 in the evenin', an' whiles a sip o' toddy wi' a freen
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 105 
 
 thae cauld nichts. But I 'm no' a guzzler, an' I 
 dinna gang in wi' thae loons flingin' aboot guid 
 money.' 
 
 ' And that 's thrue for you, me bye,' interrupted 
 a rich Irish brogue, to the delight of the crowd and 
 the amazement of Geordie, who went calmly on 
 
 ' An' I canna bide yon saloon whaur they sell 
 sic awfu'-like stuff it's mair like lye nor guid 
 whisky, and whaur ye 're never sure o' yer richt 
 change. It 's an awfu'-like place ; man ! ' and 
 Geordie began to warm up ' ye can juist smell 
 the sulphur when ye gang in. But I dinna care 
 aboot thae Temperance Soceeities, wi' their 
 pledges an' havers ; an' I canna see what hairm 
 can come till a man by takin' a bottle o' guid 
 Glenlivet hame wi' him. I canna bide thae tee- 
 total buddies.' 
 
 Geordie's speech was followed by loud applause, 
 partly appreciative of Geordie himself, but largely 
 sympathetic with his position. 
 
 Two or three men followed in the same strain, 
 advocating a league for mutual improvement and 
 social purposes, but without the teetotal pledge; 
 they were against the saloon, but didn't see why 
 they should not take a drink now and then.
 
 io6 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Finally the manager rose to support his ' friend, 
 Mistah ah Cwafoad,' ridiculing the idea of a 
 total abstinence pledge as fanatical and indeed 
 'absuad.' He was opposed to the saloon, and 
 would like to see a club formed, with a com- 
 fortable club-room, books, magazines, pictures, 
 games, anything, ' dontcheknow, to make the 
 time pass pleasantly ' ; but it was ' absuad to 
 ask men to abstain fwom a pwopah use of aw 
 nouwishing dvvinks,' because some men made 
 beasts of themselves. He concluded by offering 
 $50.00 towards the support of such a club. 
 
 The current of feeling was setting strongly 
 against the total abstinence idea, and Craig's 
 face was hard and his eyes gleamed like coals. 
 Then he did a bit of generalship. He proposed 
 that since they had the two plans clearly before 
 them they should take a few minutes' intermission 
 in which to make up their minds, and he was 
 sure they would be glad to have Mrs. Mavor 
 sing. In the interval the men talked in groups, 
 eagerly, even fiercely, hampered seriously in the 
 forceful expression of their opinion by the pres- 
 ence of Mrs. Mavor, who glided from group to 
 group, dropping a word here and a smile there.
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 107 
 
 She reminded me of a general riding along the 
 ranks, bracing his men for the coming battle. 
 She paused beside Geordie, spoke earnestly for 
 a few moments, while Geordie gazed solemnly 
 at her, and then she came back to Billy in the 
 corner near me. What she was saying I could 
 not hear, but poor Billy was protesting, spreading 
 his hands out aimlessly before him, but gazing at 
 her the while in dumb admiration. Then she came 
 to me. ' Poor Billy, he was good to my husband,' 
 she said softly, * and he has a good heart.' 
 
 ' He 's not much to look at,' I could not help 
 saying. 
 
 'The oyster hides its pearl/ she answered, a 
 little reproachfully. 
 
 'The shell is apparent enough,' I replied, for 
 the mischief was in me. 
 
 'Ah yes,' she replied softly, 'but it is the 
 pearl we love.' 
 
 I moved over beside Billy, whose eyes were 
 following Mrs. Mavor as she went to speak to 
 Mr. Craig. 'Well,' I said ; 'you all seem to have 
 a high opinion of her.' 
 
 'An 'igh hopinion,' he replied, in deep scorn. 
 ' An 'igh hopinion, you calls it'
 
 io8 BLACK ROCK 
 
 1 What would you call it ? ' I asked, wishing to 
 draw him out 
 
 ' Oi don't call it nothink,' he replied, spreading 
 out his rough hands. 
 
 1 She seems very nice,' I said indifferently. 
 
 He drew his eyes away from Mrs. Mavor, and 
 gave attention to me for the first time. 
 
 'Nice!' he repeated with fine contempt; and 
 then he added impressively, ' Them as don't know 
 shouldn't say nothink.' 
 
 'You are right/ I answered earnestly, 'and I 
 am quite of your opinion.' 
 
 He gave me a quick glance out of his little, 
 deep-set, dark-blue eyes, and opened his heart 
 to me. He told me, in his quaint speech, how 
 again and again she had taken him in and nursed 
 him, and encouraged him, and sent him out with 
 a new heart for his battle, until, for very shame's 
 sake at his own miserable weakness, he had kept 
 out of her way for many months, going steadily 
 down. 
 
 ' Now, oi hain't got no grip ; but when she says 
 to me to-night, says she, "Oh, Billy" she calls 
 me Billy to myself (this with a touch of pride) 
 '"oh, Billy," says she, "we must 'ave a total
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 109 
 
 habstinence league to-night, and oi want you to 
 'elp ! " and she keeps a-lookin' at me with those 
 heyes o' hern till, if you believe me, sir/ lower- 
 ing his voice to an emphatic whisper, 'though 
 oi knowed oi couldn't 'elp none, afore oi knowed 
 oi promised 'er oi would. It's 'er heyes. When 
 them heyes says "do," hup you steps and 
 "does."' 
 
 I remembered my first look into her eyes, 
 and I could quite understand Billy's submission. 
 Just as she began to sing I went over to Geordie 
 and took my seat beside him. She began with 
 an English slumber song, ' Sleep, Baby, Sleep' 
 one of Barry Cornwall's, I think, and then sang 
 a love-song with the refrain, ' Love once again ' ; 
 but no thrills came to me, and I began to wonder 
 if her spell over me was broken. Geordie, who had 
 been listening somewhat indifferently, encouraged 
 me, however, by saying, ' She 's just pittin' aff time 
 with thae feckless sangs ; man, there 's nae grup 
 till them.' But when, after a few minutes' pause, 
 she began 'My Ain Fireside,' Geordie gave a 
 sigh of satisfaction. 'Ay, that's somethin* like,' 
 and when she finished the first verse he gave me 
 a dig in the ribs with his elbow that took my
 
 no BLACK ROCK 
 
 breath away, saying in a whisper, ' Man, hear till 
 yon, wull ye ? ' And again I found the spell upon 
 me. It was not the voice after all, but the great 
 soul behind that thrilled and compelled, She 
 was seeing, feeling, living what she sang, and her 
 voice showed us her heart The cosy fireside, 
 with its bonnie, blithe blink, where no care could 
 abide, but only peace and love, was vividly 
 present to her, and as she sang we saw it too. 
 When she came to the last verse 
 
 ' When I draw in my stool 
 
 On my cosy hearth-stane, 
 My heart loups sae licht 
 I scarce ken 't for my ain,' 
 
 there was a feeling of tears in the flowing song, 
 and we knew the words had brought her a picture 
 of the fireside that would always seem empty. 
 I felt the tears in my eyes, and, wondering at 
 myself, I cast a stealthy glance at the men about 
 me; and I saw that they, too, were looking 
 through their hearts' windows upon firesides and 
 ingle-neuks that gleamed from far. 
 
 And then she sang 'The Auld Hoose,' and 
 Geordie, giving me another poke, said, 'That's 
 ma ain sang/ and when I asked him what he
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE in 
 
 meant, he whispered fiercely, 'Wheesht, man!' 
 and I did, for his face looked dangerous. 
 
 In a pause between the verses I heard Geordie 
 saying to himself, ' Ay, I maun gie it up, I doot.' 
 
 'What?' I ventured. 
 
 'Naething ava/ And then he added impa- 
 tiently, 'Man, but ye 're an inqueesitive buddie,' 
 after which I subsided into silence. 
 
 Immediately upon the meeting being called to 
 order, Mr. Craig made his speech, and it was a 
 fine bit of work. Beginning with a clear state- 
 ment of the object in view, he set in contrast 
 the two kinds of leagues proposed. One, a league 
 of men who would take whisky in moderation ; 
 the other, a league of men who were pledged to 
 drink none themselves, and to prevent in every 
 honourable way others from drinking. There was 
 no long argument, but he spoke at white heat ; 
 and as he appealed to the men to think, each 
 not of himself alone, but of the others as well, 
 the yearning, born of his long months of desire 
 and of toil, vibrated in his voice and reached to 
 the heart Many men looked uncomfortable and 
 uncertain, and even the manager looked none too 
 cheerful
 
 na BLACK ROCK 
 
 At this critical moment the crowd got a shock. 
 Billy Breen shuffled out to the front, and, in a 
 voice shaking with nervousness and emotion, 
 began to speak, his large, coarse hands wandering 
 tremulously about. 
 
 ' Oi hain't no bloomin' temperance horator, and 
 mayhap oi hain't no right to speak 'ere, but oi got 
 somethin' to saigh (say) and oi 'm agoin' to saigh it. 
 
 'Parson, 'ee says is it wisky or no wisky in 
 this 'ere club ? If ye hask me, wich (which) ye 
 don't, then no wisky, says oi; and if ye hask 
 why ? look at me ! Once oi could mine more 
 coal than hany man in the camp ; now oi hain't 
 fit to be a sorter. Once oi 'ad some pride and 
 hambition ; now oi 'angs round awaitin' for some 
 one to saigh, "'Ere, Billy, 'ave summat." Once 
 oi made good paigh (pay), and sent it 'ome 
 regular to my poor old mother (she 's in the wukus 
 now, she is); oi hain't sent 'er hany for a year 
 and a 'alf. Once Billy was a good fellow and 'ad 
 plenty o' friends ; now Slavin 'isself kicks un hout, 
 'ee does. Why? why?' His voice rose to a 
 shriek. 'Because when Billy 'ad money in 'is 
 pocket, hevery man in this bloomin' camp as 
 meets un at hevery corner says, '"Ello, Billy,
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 113 
 
 wat '11 ye 'ave ? " And there 's wisky at Slavin's, 
 and there's wisky in the shacks, and hevery 
 'oliday and hevery Sunday there's wisky, and 
 w'en ye feel bad it's wisky, and w'en ye feel 
 good it's wisky, and hevery where and halways 
 it 's wisky, wisky, wisky ! And now ye 're goin' 
 to stop it, and 'ow ? T* manager, 'ee says picters 
 and magazines. 'Ee takes 'is wine and 'is beer 
 like a gentleman, 'ee does, and 'ee don't 'ave no 
 use for Billy Breen. Billy, 'ee's a beast, and 
 t' manager, 'ee kicks un hout. But supposin' Billy 
 wants to stop bein' a beast, and starts a-tryin* to 
 be a man again, and w'en 'ee gets good an' dry, 
 along comes some un and says, "'Ello, Billy, 
 'ave a smile," it hain't picters nor magazines 'ud 
 stop un then. Picters and magazines! Gawd 
 'elp the man as hain't nothin' but picters and 
 magazines to 'elp un w'en 'ee 's got a devil hin- 
 side and a devil houtside a-shovin' and a-drawin' 
 of un down to 'elL And that 's w'ere oi 'm a-goin' 
 straight, and yer bloomin' League, wisky or no 
 wisky, can't help me. But,' and he lifted his 
 trembling hands above his head, ' if ye stop the 
 wisky a-flowin' round this camp, ye '11 stop some 
 of these lads that 's a-followin' me 'ard. Yes, you !
 
 ii4 BLACK ROCK 
 
 and you ! and you ! ' and his voice rose to a wild 
 scream as he shook a trembling finger at one and 
 another. 
 
 'Man, it's fair gruesome tae hear him/ said 
 Geordie ; ' he 's no' canny ' ; and reaching out for 
 Billy as he went stumbling past, he pulled him 
 down to a seat beside him, saying, ' Sit doon, lad, 
 sit doon. We'll mak a man o* ye yet' Then 
 he rose and, using many r's, said, ' Maister Chair- 
 man, a' doot we '11 juist hae to gie it up.' 
 
 'Give it up?' called out Nixon. 'Give up the 
 League ? ' 
 
 ' Na ! na ! lad, but juist the wee drap whusky. 
 It's nae that guid onyway, and it's a terrible 
 price. Man, gin ye gang tae Henderson's in 
 Buchanan Street, in Gleska, ye ken, ye '11 get mair 
 for three-an'-saxpence than ye wull at Slavin's 
 for five dollars. An' it '11 no' pit ye mad like yon 
 stuff, but it gangs doon smooth an' saft-like. 
 But' (regretfully) 'ye '11 no' can get it here; an' 
 a'm thinkin' a'll juist sign yon teetotal thing.' 
 And up he strode to the table and put his name 
 down in the book Craig had ready. Then to 
 Billy he said, ' Come awa, lad 1 pit yer name 
 doon, an' we '11 stan' by ye.'
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 115 
 
 Poor Billy looked around helplessly, his nerve 
 all gone, and sat still. There was a swift rustle 
 of garments, and Mrs. Mavor was beside him, and, 
 in a voice that only Billy and I could hear, said, 
 'You'll sign with me, Billy?' 
 
 Billy gazed at her with a hopeless look in his 
 eyes, and shook his little head. She leaned 
 slightly toward him, smiling brightly, and, touch- 
 ing his arm gently, said 
 
 'Come, Billy, there's no fear,' and in a lower 
 voice, ' God will help you.' 
 
 As Billy went up, following Mrs. Mavor close, 
 a hu h fell on the men until he had put his name 
 to the pledge ; then they came up, man by man, 
 and signed. But Craig sat with his head down 
 till I touched his shoulder. He took my hand 
 and held it fast, saying over and over, under his 
 breath, ' Thank God, thank God 1 ' 
 
 And so the League was made.
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION 
 
 WHEN I grow weary with the conventions of 
 religion, and sick in my soul from feeding upon 
 husks, that the churches too often offer me, in 
 the shape of elaborate service and eloquent dis- 
 courses, so that in my sickness I doubt and doubt, 
 then I go back to the communion in Black Rock 
 and the days preceding it, and the fever and 
 the weariness leave me, and I grow humble and 
 strong. The simplicity and rugged grandeur of 
 the faith, the humble gratitude of the rough men 
 I see about the table, and the calm radiance of 
 one saintly face, rest and recall me. 
 
 Not its most enthusiastic apologist would call 
 Black Rock a religious community, but it pos- 
 sessed in a marked degree that eminent Christian 
 virtue of tolerance. All creeds, all shades of 
 religious opinion, were allowed, and it was gener- 
 
 119
 
 no BLACK ROCK 
 
 ally conceded that one was as good as another. 
 It is fair to say, however, that Black Rock's 
 catholicity was negative rather than positive. 
 The only religion objectionable was that insisted 
 upon as a necessity. It never occurred to any one 
 to consider religion other than as a respectable, if 
 not ornamental, addition to life in older lands. 
 
 During the weeks following the making of the 
 League, however, this negative attitude towards 
 things religious gave place to one of keen inves- 
 tigation and criticism. The indifference passed 
 away, and with it, in a large measure, the toler- 
 ance. Mr. Craig was responsible for the former 
 of these changes, but hardly, in fairness, could 
 he be held responsible for the latter. If any one, 
 more than another, was to be blamed for the 
 rise of intolerance in the village, that man was 
 Geordie Crawford. He had his ' lines ' from the 
 Established Kirk of Scotland, and when Mr. 
 Craig announced his intention of having the 
 Sacrament of the Lord's Supper observed, Geordie 
 produced his ' lines ' and promptly handed them 
 in. As no other man in the village was equipped 
 with like spiritual credentials, Geordie constituted 
 himself a kind of kirk-session, charged with the
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION isi 
 
 double duty of guarding the entrance to the 
 Lord's Table, and of keeping an eye upon the 
 theological opinions of the community, and more 
 particularly upon such members of it as gave 
 evidence of possessing any opinions definite 
 enough for statement 
 
 It came to be Mr. Craig's habit to drop into 
 the League-room, and toward the close of the 
 evening to have a short Scripture lesson from 
 the Gospels. Geordie's opportunity came after 
 the meeting was over and Mr. Craig had gone 
 away. The men would hang about and talk the 
 lesson over, expressing opinions favourable or 
 unfavourable as appeared to them good. Then 
 it was that all sorts of views, religious and other- 
 wise, were aired and examined. The originality 
 of the ideas, the absolute disregard of the autho- 
 rity of church or creed, the frankness with which 
 opinions were stated, and the forcefulness of the 
 language in which they were expressed, combined 
 to make the discussions altogether marvellous. 
 The passage between Abe Baker, the stage-driver, 
 and Geordie was particularly rich. It followed 
 upon a very telling lesson on the parable of the 
 Pharisee and the Publican.
 
 laa BLACK ROCK 
 
 The chief actors in that wonderful story 
 were transferred to the Black Rock stage, and 
 were presented in miner's costume. Abe was 
 particularly well pleased with the scoring of 
 the ' blanked old rooster who crowed so blanked 
 high/ and somewhat incensed at the quiet re- 
 mark interjected by Geordie, 'that it was nae 
 credit till a man tae be a sinner ' ; and when 
 Geordie went on to urge the importance of right 
 conduct and respectability, Abe was led to pour 
 forth vials of contemptuous wrath upon the 
 Pharisees and hypocrites who thought them- 
 selves better than other people. But Geordie 
 was quite unruffled, and lamented the ignorance 
 of men who, brought up in ' Epeescopawlyun 
 or Methody ' churches, could hardly be expected 
 to detect the Antinomian or Arminian heresies. 
 
 'Aunty Nomyun or Uncle Nomyun,' replied 
 Abe, boiling hot, 'my mother was a Methodist, 
 and I '11 back any blanked Methodist against 
 any blankety blank long-faced, lantern-jawed, 
 skinflint Presbyterian,' and this he was eager 
 to maintain to any man's satisfaction if he would 
 step outside. 
 
 Geordie was quite unmoved, but hastened to
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION ia 3 
 
 assure Abe that he meant no disrespect to his 
 mother, who he had 'nae doot was a clever 
 enough buddie, tae judge by her son.' Abe 
 was speedily appeased, and offered to set up the 
 drinks all round. But Geordie, with evident 
 reluctance, had to decline, saying, ' Na, na, lad, 
 I 'm a League man, ye ken,' and I was sure 
 that Geordie at that moment felt that member- 
 ship in the League had its drawbacks. 
 
 Nor was Geordie too sure of Craig's ortho- 
 doxy; while as to Mrs. Mavor, whose slave he 
 was, he was in the habit of lamenting her doctrinal 
 condition 
 
 'She's a fine wumman, nae doot; but, puir 
 cratur, she's fair carried awa wi' the errors o* 
 thae Epeescopawlyuns.' 
 
 It fell to Geordie, therefore, as a sacred duty, in 
 view of the laxity of those who seemed to be the 
 pillars of the Church, to be all the more watchful 
 and unyielding. But he was delightfully incon- 
 sistent when confronted with particulars. In 
 conversation with him one night after one of 
 the meetings, when he had been specially hard 
 upon the ignorant and godless, I innocently 
 changed the subject to Billy Breen, whom
 
 124 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Geordie had taken to his shack since the night 
 of the League. He was very proud of Billy's 
 success in the fight against whisky, the credit 
 of which he divided unevenly between Mrs. 
 Mavor and himself. 
 
 ' He 's fair daft aboot her,' he explained to 
 me, ' an' I '11 no' deny but she 's a great help, 
 ay, a verra conseederable asseestance ; but, man, 
 she doesna ken the whusky, an' the inside o' a 
 man that's wantin' it Ay, puir buddie, she 
 diz her pairt, an' when ye 're a bit restless an' 
 thrawn aifter yer day's wark, it's like a walk 
 in a bonnie glen on a simmer eve, with the birds 
 HI tin' aboot, tae sit in yon roomie and hear her 
 sing ; but when the night is on, an' ye canna 
 sleep, but wauken wi' an* awfu' thurst and wi' 
 dreams o' cosy firesides, and the bonnie sparklin' 
 glosses, as it is wi' puir Billy, ay, it 's then ye 
 need a man wi' a guid grup beside ye.' 
 
 1 What do you do then, Geordie ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' Oo ay, I juist gang for a bit walk wi' the lad, 
 and then pits the kettle on an' maks a cup o' tea 
 or coffee, an' aff he gangs tae sleep like a bairn.' 
 
 1 Poor Billy,' I said pityingly, ' there 's no hope 
 for him in the future, I fear.'
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION 1*5 
 
 'Hoot awa, man/ said Geordie quickly. 'Ye 
 wadna keep oot a puir cratur frae creepin* in, 
 that 's daein' his best ? ' 
 
 'But, Geordie/ I remonstrated, 'he doesn't 
 know anything of the doctrines. I don't believe 
 he could give us " The Chief End of Man." ' 
 
 'An' wha's tae blame for that?' said Geordie, 
 with fine indignation. 'An' maybe you re- 
 member the prood Pharisee and the puir 
 wumman that cam' creepin' in ahint the 
 Maister.' 
 
 The mingled tenderness and indignation in 
 Geordie's face were beautiful to see, so I meekly 
 answered, ' Well, I hope Mr. Craig won't be too 
 strict with the boys.' 
 
 Geordie shot a suspicious glance at me, but 
 I kept my face like a summer morn, and he 
 replied cautiously 
 
 ' Ay, he 's no' that streect : but he maun 
 exerceese discreemmation.' 
 
 Geordie was none the less determined, however, 
 that Billy should 'come forrit'; but as to the 
 manager, who was a member of the English 
 Church, and some others who had been confirmed 
 years ago, and had forgotten much and denied
 
 126 BLACK ROCK 
 
 more, he was extremely doubtful, and expressed 
 himself in very decided words to the minister 
 
 ' Ye '11 no' be askin' forrit thae Epeescopawlyun 
 buddies. They juist ken naething ava.' 
 
 But Mr. Craig looked at him for a moment 
 and said, ' " Him that cometh unto Me I will in 
 no wise cast out," ' and Geordie was silent, though 
 he continued doubtful 
 
 With all these somewhat fantastic features, 
 however, there was no mistaking the earnest 
 spirit of the men. The meetings grew larger 
 every night, and the interest became more 
 intense. The singing became different. The 
 men no longer simply shouted, but as Mr. Craig 
 would call attention to the sentiment of the 
 hymn, the voices would attune themselves to 
 the words. Instead of encouraging anything 
 like emotional excitement, Mr. Craig seemed 
 to fear it 
 
 'These chaps are easily stirred up,' he would 
 say, 'and I am anxious that they should know 
 exactly what they are doing. It is far too serious 
 a business to trifle with.' 
 
 Although Graeme did not go downstairs to the 
 meetings, he could not but feel the throb of the
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION 127 
 
 emotion beating in the heart of the community. 
 I used to detail for his benefit, and sometimes 
 for his amusement, the incidents of each night 
 But I never felt quite easy in dwelling upon 
 the humorous features in Mrs. Mayor's presence, 
 although Craig did not appear to mind. His 
 manner with Graeme was perfect Openly 
 anxious to win him to his side, he did not 
 improve the occasion and vex him with ex- 
 hortation. He would not take him at a 
 disadvantage, though, as I afterwards found, 
 this was not his sole reason for his method. 
 Mrs. Mavor, too, showed herself in wise and 
 tender light. She might have been his sister, 
 so frank was she and so openly affectionate, 
 laughing at his fretful ness and soothing his 
 weariness. 
 
 Never were better comrades than we four, and 
 the bright days speeding so swiftly on drew us 
 nearer to one another. 
 
 But the bright days came to an end ; for 
 Graeme, when once he was able to go about, 
 became anxious to get back to the camp. And 
 so the last day came, a day I remember well. 
 It was a bright, crisp winter day.
 
 128 BLACK ROCK 
 
 The air was shimmering in the frosty light. 
 The mountains, with their shining heads piercing 
 through light clouds into that wonderful blue of 
 the western sky, and their feet pushed into the 
 pine masses, gazed down upon Black Rock with 
 calm, kindly looks on their old grey faces. How 
 one grows to love them, steadfast old friends ! Far 
 up among the pines we could see the smoke of 
 the engine at the works, and so still and so clear 
 was the mountain air that we could hear the puff 
 of the steam, and from far down the river the 
 murmur of the rapids. The majestic silence, the 
 tender beauty, the peace, the loneliness, too, came 
 stealing in upon us, as we three, leaving Mrs. 
 Mavor behind us, marched arm-in-arm down the 
 street. We had not gone far on our way, when 
 Graeme, turning round, stood a moment looking 
 back, then waved his hand in farewell. Mrs. 
 Mavor was at her window, smiling and waving 
 in return. They had grown to be great friends 
 these two ; and seemed to have arrived at some 
 understanding. Certainly, Graeme's manner to 
 her was not that he bore to other women. His 
 half-quizzical, somewhat superior air of mocking 
 devotion gave place to a simple, earnest, almost
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION 129 
 
 tender, respect, very new to him, but very 
 winning. 
 
 As he stood there waving his farewell, I 
 glanced at his face and saw for a moment what 
 I had not seen for years, a faint flush on Graeme's 
 cheek and a light of simple, earnest faith in his 
 eyes. It reminded me of my first look of him 
 when he had come up for his matriculation to the 
 'Varsity. He stood on the campus looking up 
 at the noble old pile, and there was the same 
 bright, trustful, earnest look on his boyish face. 
 
 I know not what spirit possessed me ; it may 
 have been the pain of the memory working in 
 me, but I said, coarsely enough, ' It 's no use, 
 Graeme, my boy ; I would fall in love with her 
 myself, but there would be no chance even 
 for me.' 
 
 The flush slowly darkened as he turned and 
 said deliberately 
 
 ' It 's not like you, Connor, to be an ass of 
 that peculiar kind. Love ! not exactly ! She 
 
 won't fall in love unless ' and he stopped 
 
 abruptly with his eyes upon Craig. 
 
 But Craig met him with unshrinking gaze, 
 quietly remarking, ' Her heart is under the pines ' ; 
 
 I
 
 130 BLACK ROCK 
 
 and we moved on, each thinking his own 
 thoughts, and guessing at the thoughts of the 
 others. 
 
 We were on our way to Craig's shack, and as 
 we passed the saloon Slavin stepped from the 
 door with a salutation. Graeme paused. ' Hello, 
 Slavin ! I got rather the worst of it, didn't I ? ' 
 
 Slavin came near, and said earnestly, ' It was 
 a dirty thrick altogether ; you '11 not think it 
 was moine, Mr. Graeme.' 
 
 ' No, no, Slavin ! you stood up like a man,' 
 said Graeme cheerfully. 
 
 'And you bate me fair; an' bedad it was a 
 nate one that laid me out ; an' there 's no grudge 
 in me heart till ye.' 
 
 ' All right, Slavin ; we '11 perhaps understand 
 each other better after this.' 
 
 1 An' that 's thrue for yez, sor ; an' I '11 see that 
 your byes don't get any more than they ask for,' 
 replied Slavin, backing away. 
 
 'And I hope that won't be much/ put in 
 Mr. Craig ; but Slavin only grinned. 
 
 When we came to Craig's shack Graeme was 
 glad to rest in the big chair. 
 
 Craig made him a cup of tea, while I smoked,
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION 131 
 
 admiring much the deft neatness of the minister's 
 housekeeping, and the gentle, almost motherly, 
 way he had with Graeme. 
 
 In our talk we drifted into the future, and 
 Craig let us see what were his ambitions. The 
 railway was soon to come ; the resources were, 
 as yet, unexplored, but enough was known to 
 assure a great future for British Columbia. As 
 he talked his enthusiasm grew, and carried us 
 away. With the eye of a general he surveyed 
 the country, fixed the strategic points which the 
 Church must seize upon. Eight good men would 
 hold the country from Fort Steele to the coast, 
 and from Kootenay to Cariboo. 
 
 'The Church must be in with the railway; she 
 must have a hand in the shaping of the country. 
 If society crystallises without her influence, the 
 country is lost, and British Columbia will be 
 another trap-door to the bottomless pit* 
 
 1 What do you propose ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' Organising a little congregation here in Black 
 Rock.' 
 
 1 How many will you get ? ' 
 
 'Don't know.' 
 
 1 Pretty hopeless business,' I said.
 
 i 3 BLACK ROCK 
 
 1 Hopeless ! hopeless ! ' he cried ; ' there were 
 only twelve of us at first to follow Him, and 
 rather a poor lot they were. But He braced 
 them up, and they conquered the world. 1 
 
 ' But surely things are different,' said Graeme. 
 
 'Things? Yes! yes! But He is the same.' 
 His face had an exalted look, and his eyes were 
 gazing into far-away places. 
 
 ' A dozen men in Black Rock with some real 
 grip of Him would make things go. We '11 get 
 them, too,' he went on in growing excitement 
 ' I believe in my soul we '11 get them.' 
 
 ' Look here, Craig ; if you organise I 'd like to 
 join,' said Graeme impulsively. ' I don't believe 
 much in your creed or your Church, but I '11 be 
 blowed if I don't believe in you.' 
 
 Craig looked at him with wistful eyes, and 
 shook his head. ' It won't do, old chap, you 
 know. I can't hold you. You Ve got to have 
 a grip of some one better than I am ; and then, 
 besides, I hardly like asking you now ' ; he hesi- 
 tated 'well, to be out-and-out, this step must 
 Lc taken not for my sake, nor for any man's sake, 
 and I fancy that perhaps you feel like pleasing 
 me just now a little.'
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION 133 
 
 'That I do, old fellow,' said Graeme, putting 
 out his hand. 'I'll be hanged if I won't do 
 anything you say.' 
 
 ' That 's why I won't say,' replied Craig. Then 
 reverently he addea, <The organisation is not 
 mine. It is my Master's.' 
 
 1 When are you going to begin ? ' asked 
 Graeme. 
 
 1 We shall have our communion service in two 
 weeks, and that will be our roll-call.' 
 
 ' How many will answer ? ' I asked doubtfully. 
 
 ' I know of three/ he said quietly. 
 
 ' Three 1 There are two hundred miners and 
 one hundred and fifty lumbermen ! Three I ' and 
 Graeme looked at him in amazement 'You 
 think it worth while to organise three ? ' 
 
 ' Well,' replied Craig, smiling for the first time, 
 'the organisation won't be elaborate, but it will 
 be effective, and, besides, loyalty demands obedi- 
 ence. 1 
 
 We sat long that afternoon talking, shrinking 
 from the breaking up ; for we knew that we were 
 about to turn down a chapter in our lives which 
 we should delight to linger over in after days. 
 And in my life there is but one brighter. At last
 
 134 BLACK ROCK 
 
 \ve said good-bye and drove away ; and though 
 many farewells have come in between that day 
 and this, none is so vividly present to me as that 
 between us three men. Craig's manner with me 
 was solemn enough. ' " He that loveth his life " ; 
 good-bye, don't fool with this,' was what he said 
 to me. But when he turned to Graeme his whole 
 face lit up. He took him by the shoulders and 
 gave him a little shake, looking into his eyes, and 
 saying over and over in a low, sweet tone 
 
 'You'll come, old chap, you'll come, you'll 
 come. Tell me you '11 come.' 
 
 And Graeme could say nothing in reply, but 
 only looked at him. Then they silently shook 
 hands, and we drove off. But long after we had 
 got over the mountain and into the winding forest 
 road on the way to the lumber-camp the voice 
 kept vibrating in my heart, ' You '11 come, you '11 
 come,' and there was a hot pain in my throat. 
 
 We said little during the drive to the camp. 
 Graeme was thinking hard, and made no answer 
 when I spoke to him two or three times, till we 
 came to the deep shadows of the pine forest, 
 when with a little shiver he said 
 
 1 It is all a tangle a hopeless tangle,'
 
 BLACK ROCK RELIGION 135 
 
 1 Meaning what ? ' I asked. 
 
 1 This business of religion what quaint varie- 
 ties Nelson's, Geordie's, Billy Breen's if he 
 has any then Mrs. Mayor's she is a saint, of 
 course and that fellow Craig's. What a trump 
 he is ! and without his religion he 'd be pretty 
 much like the rest of us. It is too much for me.' 
 
 His mystery was not mine. The Black Rock 
 varieties of religion were certainly startling ; but 
 there was undoubtedly the streak of reality 
 though them all, and that discovery I felt to be 
 a distinct gain
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK 
 COMMUNION
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 
 
 THE gleam of the great fire through the windows 
 of the great camp gave a kindly welcome as we 
 drove into the clearing in which the shanties 
 stood. Graeme was greatly touched at his 
 enthusiastic welcome by the men. At the supper- 
 table he made a little speech of thanks for their 
 faithfulness during his absence, specially com- 
 mending the care and efficiency of Mr. Nelson, 
 who had had charge of the camp. The men 
 cheered wildly, Baptiste's shrill voice leading all. 
 Nelson being called upon, expressed in a few 
 words his pleasure at seeing the Boss back, and 
 thanked the men for their support while he had 
 been in charge. 
 
 The men were for making a night of it ; but 
 fearing the effect upon Graeme, I spoke to Nelson, 
 who passed the word, and in a short time the 
 camp was quiet. As we sauntered from the grub-
 
 t 4 o BLACK ROCK 
 
 camp to the office where was our bed, we paused 
 to take in the beauty of the night. The moon 
 rode high over the peaks of the mountains, flood- 
 ing the narrow valley with mellow light. Under 
 her magic the rugged peaks softened their harsh 
 lines and seemed to lean lovingly toward us. 
 The dark pine masses stood silent as in breathless 
 adoration ; the dazzling snow lay like a garment 
 over all the open spaces in soft waving folds, 
 and crowned every stump with a quaintly shaped 
 nightcap. Above the camps the smoke curled up 
 from the camp-fires, standing like pillars of cloud 
 that kept watch while men slept. And high over 
 all the deep blue night sky, with its star jewels, 
 sprang like the roof of a great cathedral from 
 range to range, covering us in its kindly shelter. 
 How homelike and safe seemed the valley with 
 its mountain-sides, its sentinel trees and arching 
 roof of jewelled skyl Even the night seemed 
 kindly, and friendly the stars ; and the lone cry 
 of the wolf from the deep forest seemed like the 
 voice of a comrade. 
 
 ' How beautiful ! too beautiful ! ' said Graeme, 
 stretching out his arms. ' A night like this takes 
 the heart out of me,'
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 141 
 
 I stood silent, drinking in at every sense the 
 night with its wealth of loveliness. 
 
 ' What is it I want ? ' he went on. ' Why does 
 the night make my heart ache ? There are things 
 to see and things to hear just beyond me ; I can- 
 not get to them.' The gay, careless look was 
 gone from his face, his dark eyes were wistful 
 with yearning. 
 
 ' I often wonder if life has nothing better for 
 me/ he continued with his heartache voice. 
 
 I said no word, but put my arm within his. A 
 light appeared in the stable. Glad of a diversion, 
 I said, ' What is the light ? Let us go and see.' 
 
 'Sandy, taking a last look at his team, like 
 enough.' 
 
 We walked slowly toward the stable, speaking 
 no word. As we neared the door we heard the 
 sound of a voice in the monotone of one reading. 
 I stepped forward and looked through a chink 
 between the logs. Graeme was about to open the 
 door, but I held up my hand and beckoned him 
 to me. In a vacant stall, where was a pile of 
 straw, a number of men were grouped. Sandy, 
 leaning against the tying-post upon which the 
 stable-lantern hung, was reading; Nelson was
 
 H BLACK ROCK 
 
 kneeling in front of him and gazing into the 
 gloom beyond ; Baptiste lay upon his stomach, 
 his chin in his hands and his upturned eyes 
 fastened upon Sandy's face; Lachlan Campbell 
 sat with his hands clasped about his knees, 
 and two other men sat near him. Sandy was 
 reading the undying story of the Prodigal, 
 Nelson now and then stopping him to make 
 a remark. It was a scene I have never been 
 able to forget. To-day I pause in my tale, 
 and see it as clearly as when I looked through 
 the chink upon it years ago. The long, low 
 stable, with log walls and upright hitching-poles ; 
 the dim outlines of the horses in the gloom of 
 the background, and the little group of rough, 
 almost savage-looking men, with faces wondering 
 and reverent, lit by the misty light of the stable- 
 lantern. 
 
 After the reading, Sandy handed the book to 
 Nelson, who put it in his pocket, saying, ' That 's 
 for us, boys, ain't it ? ' 
 
 ' Ay,' said Lachlan ; ' it is often that has been 
 read in my hearing, but I am afraid it will not be 
 for me whatever/ and he swayed himself slightly 
 as he spoke, and his voice was full of pain.
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 143 
 
 'The minister said I might come,' said old 
 Nelson, earnestly and hopefully. 
 
 'Ay, but you are not Lachlan Campbell, and 
 you hef not had his privileges. My father was 
 a godly elder in the Free Church of Scotland, 
 and never a night or morning but we took the 
 Books.' 
 
 'Yes, but He said "any man,"' persisted 
 Nelson, putting his hand on Lachlan's knee. 
 But Lachlan shook his head. 
 
 1 Dat young feller,' said Baptiste ; ' wha's hees 
 nem, heh ? ' 
 
 ' He has no name. It is just a parable,' ex- 
 plained Sandy. 
 
 ' He 's got no nem ? He 's just a parom'ble ? 
 Das no young feller ? ' asked Baptiste anxiously ; 
 ' das mean noting ? ' 
 
 Then Nelson took him in hand and explained 
 to him the meaning, while Baptiste listened even 
 more eagerly, ejaculating softly, ' ah, voil ! bon ! 
 by gar!' When Nelson had finished he broke 
 out, 'Dat young feller, his name Baptiste, heh? 
 and de old Fadder he 's le bon Dieu ? Bon ! das 
 good story for me. How you go back ? You go 
 to de pries' ? '
 
 144 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' The book doesn't say priest or any one else,' 
 said Nelson. ' You go back in yourself, you 
 see?' 
 
 ' Non ; das so, sure nuff. Ah ! ' as if a light 
 broke in upon him 'you go in your own self. 
 You make one leetle prayer. You say, " Le bon 
 Fadder, oh ! I want come back, I so tire, so 
 hongree, so sorree " ? He say, " Come right 'long." 
 Ah ! das fuss-rate. Nelson, you make one leetle 
 prayer for Sandy and me.' 
 
 And Nelson lifted up his face and said : 
 ' Father, we 're all gone far away ; we have spent 
 all, we are poor, we are tired of it all ; we want to 
 feel different, to be different ; we want to come 
 back. Jesus came to save us from our sins ; and 
 He said if we came He wouldn't cast us out, no 
 matter how bad we were, if we only came to 
 Him. Oh, Jesus Christ ' and his old, iron face 
 began to work, and two big tears slowly came 
 from under his eyelids ' we are a poor lot, and 
 I 'm the worst of the lot, and we are trying to 
 find the way. Show us how to get back. 
 Amen.' 
 
 ' Bon ! ' said Baptiste. ' Das fetch Him sure ! ' 
 
 Graeme pulled me away, and without a word
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 145 
 
 we went into the office and drew up to the little 
 stove. Graeme was greatly moved. 
 
 'Did you ever see anything like that?' he 
 asked. ' Old Nelson ! the hardest, savagest, 
 toughest old sinner in the camp, on his knees 
 before a lot of men ! ' 
 
 ' Before God,' I could not help saying, for the 
 thing seemed very real to me. The old man 
 evidently felt himself talking to some one. 
 
 'Yes, I suppose you're right,' said Graeme 
 doubtfully; 'but there's a lot of stuff I can't 
 swallow.' 
 
 'When you take medicine you don't swallow 
 the bottle,' I replied, for his trouble was not 
 mine. 
 
 ' If I were sure of the medicine, I wouldn't 
 mind the bottle, and yet it acts well enough,' he 
 went on. 'I don't mind Lachlan ; he 's a Highland 
 mystic, and has visions, and Sandy's almost as 
 bad, and Baptiste is an impulsive little chap. 
 Those don't count much. But old man Nelson 
 is a cool-blooded, level-headed old fellow ; has 
 seen a lot of life, too. And then there 's Craig 
 He has a better head than I have, and is as 
 hot-blooded, and yet he is living and slaving 
 
 K
 
 i 4 6 BLACK ROCK 
 
 away in that hole, and really enjoys it There 
 must be something in it* 
 
 'Oh, look here, Graeme,' I burst out im- 
 patiently ; ' what 's the use of your talking like 
 that? Of course there 's something in it. There 's 
 everything in it The trouble with me is I can't 
 face the music. It calls for a life where a fellow 
 must go in for straight, steady work, self-denial, 
 nd that sort of thing ; and I 'm too Bohemian 
 for that, and too lazy. But that fellow Craig 
 makes one feel horribly uncomfortable.' 
 
 Graeme put his head on one side, and examined 
 me curiously. 
 
 'I believe you're right about yourself. You 
 always were a luxurious beggar. But that 's not 
 where it catches me.' 
 
 We sat and smoked and talked of other things 
 for an hour, and then turned in. As I was 
 dropping off I was roused by Graeme's voice 
 
 ' Are you going to the preparatory service on 
 Friday night ? ' 
 
 ' Don't know,' I replied rather sleepily. 
 
 ' I say, do you remember the preparatory 
 service at home?' There was something in his 
 voice that set me wide awake.
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 147 
 
 ' Yes. Rather terrific, wasn't it ? But I always 
 felt better after it,' I replied. 
 
 'To me' he was sitting up in bed now 'to 
 me it was like a call to arms, or rather like a 
 call for a forlorn hope. None but volunteers 
 wanted. Do you remember the thrill in the old 
 governor's voice as he dared any but the right 
 stuff to come on ? ' 
 
 ' We '11 go in on Friday night,' I said. 
 
 And so we did. Sandy took a load of men 
 with his team, and Graeme and I drove in the 
 light sleigh. 
 
 The meeting was in the church, and over a 
 hundred men were present. There was some 
 singing of familiar hymns at first, and then Mr. 
 Craig read the same story as we had heard in 
 the stable, that most perfect of all parables, the 
 Prodigal Son. Baptiste nudged Sandy in delight, 
 and whispered something, but Sandy held his 
 face so absolutely expressionless that Graeme 
 was moved to say 
 
 'Look at Sandy! Did you ever see such a 
 graven image ? Something has hit him hard.' 
 
 The men were held fast by the story. The 
 voice of the reader, low, earnest, and thrilling
 
 148 BLACK ROCK 
 
 with the tender pathos of the tale, carried the 
 words to our hearts, while a glance, a gesture, a 
 movement of the body gave us the vision of it 
 all as he was seeing it. 
 
 Then, in simplest of words, he told us what 
 the story meant, holding us the while with eyes, 
 and voice, and gesture. He compelled us to 
 scorn the gay, heartless selfishness of the young 
 fool setting forth so jauntily from the broken 
 home ; he moved our pity and our sympathy for 
 the young profligate, who, broken and deserted, 
 had still pluck enough to determine to work his 
 way back, and who, in utter desperation, at last 
 gave it up ; and then he showed us the home- 
 coming the ragged, heart -sick tramp, with 
 hesitating steps, stumbling along the dusty road, 
 and then the rush of the old father, his garments 
 fluttering, and his voice heard in broken cries. 
 I see and hear it all now, whenever the words 
 are read. 
 
 He announced the hymn, ' Just as I am,' read 
 the first verse, and then went on : ' There you are, 
 men, every man of you, somewhere on the road. 
 Some of you are too lazy ' here Graeme nudged 
 me ' and some of you haven't got enough yet of
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 149 
 
 the far country to come back. May there be a 
 chance for you when you want to come ! Men, 
 you all want to go back home, and when you go 
 you '11 want to put on your soft clothes, and you 
 won't go till you can go in good style ; but where 
 did the prodigal get his good clothes?' Quick 
 came the answer in Baptiste's shrill voice 
 
 ' From de old fadder ! ' 
 
 No one was surprised, and the minister went 
 on 
 
 ' Yes ! and that 's where we must get the good, 
 clean heart, the good, clean, brave heart, from our 
 Father. Don't wait, but, just as you are, come. 
 Sing/ 
 
 They sang, not loud, as they would ' Stand 
 Up,' or even 'The Sweet By and By,' but in 
 voices subdued, holding down the power in 
 them. 
 
 After the singing, Craig stood a moment gazing 
 down at the men, and then said quietly 
 
 ' Any man want to come ? You all might 
 come. We all must come.' Then, sweeping his 
 arm over the audience, and turning half round as 
 if to move off, he cried, in a voice that thrilled to 
 the heart's core
 
 ISO BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' Oh ! come on ! Let 's go back ! ' 
 
 The effect was overpowering. It seemed to 
 me that the whole company half rose to their 
 feet Of the prayer that immediately followed, 
 I only caught the opening sentence, ' Father, we 
 are coming back,' for my attention was suddenly 
 absorbed by Abe, the stage-driver, who was 
 sitting next me. I could hear him swearing 
 approval and admiration, saying to himself 
 
 1 Ain't he a clinker ! I '11 be gee-whizzly-gol- 
 dusted if he ain't a malleable-iron-double-back- 
 action self-adjusting corn - cracker.' And the 
 prayer continued to be punctuated with like 
 admiring and even more sulphurous expletives. 
 It was an incongruous medley. The earnest, 
 reverent prayer, and the earnest, admiring pro- 
 fanity, rendered chaotic one's ideas of religious 
 propriety. The feelings in both were akin ; the 
 method of expression somewhat widely diverse. 
 
 After prayer, Craig's tone changed utterly. In 
 a quiet, matter-of-fact, businesslike way he stated 
 his plan of organisation, and called for all who 
 wished to join to remain after the benediction. 
 Some fifty men were left, among them Nelson, 
 Sandy, Lachlan Campbell, Baptiste, Shaw, Nixon,
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 151 
 
 Geordie, and Billy Breen, who tried to get out, 
 but was held fast by Geordie. 
 
 Graeme was passing out, but I signed him to 
 remain, saying that I wished 'to see the thing 
 out.' Abe sat still beside me, swearing disgustedly 
 at the fellows 'who were going back on the 
 preacher.' Craig appeared amazed at the number 
 of men remaining, and seemed to fear that some- 
 thing was wrong. He put before them the terms 
 of discipleship, as the Master put them to the 
 eager scribe, and he did not make them easy. 
 He pictured the kind of work to be done, and the 
 kind of men needed for the doing of it Abe 
 grew uneasy as the minister went on to describe 
 the completeness of the surrender, the intensity 
 of the loyalty demanded. 
 
 ' That knocks me out, I reckon,' he muttered, 
 in a disappointed tone ; ' I ain't up to that grade.' 
 And as Craig described the heroism called for, 
 the magnificence of the fight, the worth of it, 
 and the outcome of it all, Abe ground out: 
 1 1 '11 be blanked if I wouldn't like to take a 
 hand, but I guess I 'm not in it.' Craig finished 
 by saying 
 
 ' I want to put this quite fairly. It is not any
 
 i5* BLACK ROCK 
 
 league of mine ; you 're not joining my company ; 
 it is no easy business, and it is for your whole life. 
 What do you say? Do I put it fairly? What 
 do you say, Nelson ? ' 
 
 Nelson rose slowly, and with difficulty began 
 
 ' I may be all wrong, but you made, it easier 
 for me, Mr. Craig. You said He would see me 
 through, or I should never have risked it. Perhaps 
 I am wrong,' and the old man looked troubled. 
 Craig sprang up. 
 
 ' No ! no ! Thank God, no 1 He will see every 
 man through who will trust his life to Him. 
 Every man, no matter how tough he is, no 
 matter how broken.' 
 
 Then Nelson straightened himself up and 
 said 
 
 'Well, sir! I believe a lot of the men would 
 go in for this if they were dead sure they would 
 get through.' 
 
 ' Get through ! ' said Craig ; ' never a fear of it 
 It is a hard fight, a long fight, a glorious fight,' 
 throwing up his head, 'but every man who squarely 
 trusts Him, and takes Him as Lord and Master, 
 comes out victor ! ' 
 
 ' Bon ! ' said Baptiste, ' Das me. You tink
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 153 
 
 He's take me in dat fight, M'sieu Craig, heh?* 
 His eyes were blazing. 
 
 ' You mean it ? ' asked Craig almost sternly. 
 
 1 Yes ! by gar ! ' said the little Frenchman 
 eagerly. 
 
 ' Hear what He says, then ' ; and Craig, turning 
 over the leaves of his Testament, read solemnly 
 the words, ' Swear not at all.' 
 
 ' Non ! For sure ! Den I stop him,' replied 
 Baptiste earnestly, and Craig wrote his name 
 down. 
 
 Poor Abe looked amazed and distressed, rose 
 slowly, and saying, 'That jars my whisky jug,' 
 passed out. There was a slight movement near 
 the organ, and glancing up I saw Mrs. Mavor 
 put her face hastily in her hands. The men's 
 faces were anxious and troubled, and Nelson said 
 in a voice that broke 
 
 ' Tell them what you told me, sir.' But Craig 
 was troubled too, and replied, 'You tell them, 
 Nelson ! ' and Nelson told the men the story of 
 how he began just five weeks ago. The old man's 
 voice steadied as he went on, and he grew eager 
 as he told how he had been helped, and how the 
 world was all different, and his heart seemed new.
 
 iS4 BLACK ROCK 
 
 He spoke of his Friend as if He were some one 
 that could be seen out at camp, that he knew 
 well, and met every day. 
 
 But as he tried to say how deeply he regretted 
 that he had not known all this years before, the 
 old, hard face began to quiver, and the steady 
 voice wavered. Then he pulled himself together, 
 and said 
 
 ' I begin to feel sure He '11 pull me through 
 me ! the hardest man in the mountains 1 So don't 
 you fear, boys. He 's all right.' 
 
 Then the men gave in their names, one by one. 
 When it came to Geordie's turn, he gave his 
 name 
 
 ' George Crawford, frae the pairish o' Kilsyth, 
 Scotland, an' ye '11 juist pit doon the lad's name, 
 Maister Craig ; he 's a wee bit fashed vyi' the dis- 
 coorse, but he has the root o' the maitter in him, 
 I doot' And so Billy Breen's name went down. 
 
 When the meeting was over, thirty-eight names 
 stood upon the communion roll of the Black Rock 
 Presbyterian Church ; and it will ever be one of 
 the regrets of my life that neither Graeme's name 
 nor my own appeared on that roll. And two 
 days after, when the cup went round on that first
 
 THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 155 
 
 Communion Sabbath, from Nelson to Sandy, and 
 from Sandy to Baptiste, and so on down the line 
 to Billy Breen and Mrs. Mavor, and then to Abe, 
 the driver, whom she had by her own mystic 
 power lifted into hope and faith, I felt all the 
 shame and pain of a traitor ; and I believe in my 
 heart that the fire of that pain and shame burned 
 something of the selfish cowardice out of me, and 
 that it is burning still. 
 
 The last words of the minister, in the short 
 address after the table had been served, were low, 
 and sweet, and tender, but they were words of 
 high courage ; and before he had spoken them all, 
 the men were listening with shining eyes, and 
 when they rose to sing the closing hymn they 
 stood straight and stiff like soldiers on parade. 
 
 And I wished more than ever I were one of 
 them.
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE 
 LEAGUE
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUB 
 
 THERE is no doubt in my mind that nature 
 designed me for a great painter. A railway 
 director interfered with that design of nature, as 
 he has with many another of hers, and by the 
 transmission of an order for mountain pieces by 
 the dozen, together with a cheque so large that I 
 feared there was some mistake, he determined me 
 to be an illustrator and designer for railway and 
 like publications. I do not like these people 
 ordering 'by the dozea* Why should they not 
 consider an artist's finer feelings ? Perhaps they 
 cannot understand them ; but they understand 
 my pictures, and I understand their cheques, and 
 there we are quits. But so it came that I remained 
 in Black Rock long enough to witness the breaking 
 of the League. 
 
 Looking back upon the events of that night 
 from the midst of gentle and decent surroundings,
 
 160 BLACK ROCK 
 
 they now seem strangely unreal, but to me then 
 they appeared only natural. 
 
 It was the Good Friday ball that wrecked the 
 League. For the fact that the promoters of the 
 ball determined that it should be a ball rather 
 than a dance was taken by the League men as a 
 concession to the new public opinion in favour of 
 respectability created by the League. And when 
 the manager's patronage had been secured (they 
 failed to get Mrs. Mavor's), and it was further 
 announced that, though held in the Black Rock 
 Hotel ballroom indeed, there was no other place 
 refreshments suited to the peculiar tastes of 
 League men would be provided, it was felt to be 
 almost a necessity that the League should approve, 
 should indeed welcome, this concession to the 
 public opinion in favour of respectability created 
 by the League. 
 
 There were extreme men on both sides, of 
 course. 'Idaho' Jack, professional gambler, for 
 instance, frankly considered that the whole town 
 was going to unmentionable depths of propriety. 
 The organisation of the League was regarded by 
 him, and by many others, as a sad retrograde 
 towards the bondage of the ancient and dying
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 161 
 
 East ; and that he could not get drunk when and 
 where he pleased, ' Idaho,' as he was called, 
 regarded as a personal grievance. 
 
 But Idaho was never enamoured of the social 
 ways of Black Rock. He was shocked and dis- 
 gusted when he discovered that a ' gun ' was 
 decreed by British law to be an unnecessary 
 adornment of a card-table. The manner of his 
 discovery must have been interesting to behold. 
 
 It is said that Idaho was industriously pursuing 
 his avocation in Slavin's, with his 'gun* lying 
 upon the card-table convenient to his hand, when 
 in walked policeman Jackson, her Majesty's sole 
 representative in the Black Rock district. Jack- 
 son, ' Stonewall ' Jackson, or ' Stonewall,' as he 
 was called for obvious reasons, after watching the 
 game for a few moments, gently tapped the pistol 
 and asked what he used this for. 
 
 ' I '11 show you in two holy minutes if you 
 don't light out,' said Idaho, hardly looking up, 
 but very angrily, for the luck was against him. 
 But Jackson tapped upon the table and said 
 sweetly 
 
 1 You 're a stranger here. You ought to get a 
 guide-book and post yourself. Now, the boys 
 
 L
 
 i6a BLACK ROCK 
 
 know I don't interfere with an innocent little 
 game, but there is a regulation against playing it 
 with guns ; so,' he added even more sweetly, but 
 fastening Idaho with a look from his steel-grey 
 eyes, ' I '11 just take charge of this/ picking up the 
 revolver ; ' it might go off.' 
 
 Idaho's rage, great as it was, was quite swal- 
 lowed up in his amazed disgust at the state of 
 society that would permit such an outrage upon 
 personal liberty. He was quite unable to play 
 any more that evening, and it took several drinks 
 all round to restore him to articulate speech. 
 The rest of the night was spent in retailing for 
 his instruction stories of the ways of Stonewall 
 Jackson. 
 
 Idaho bought a new ' gun,' but he wore it ' in 
 his clothes,' and used it chiefly in the pastime of 
 shooting out the lights or in picking off the heels 
 from the boys' boots while a stag dance was in 
 progress in Slavin's. But in Stonewall's presence 
 Idaho was a most correct citizen. Stonewall he 
 could understand and appreciate. He was six 
 feet three, and had an eye of unpleasant penetra- 
 tion. But this new feeling in the community for 
 respectability he could neither understand nor
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 163 
 
 endure. The League became the object of his 
 indignant aversion, and the League men of his 
 contempt. He had many sympathisers, and fre- 
 quent were the assaults upon the newly-born 
 sobriety of Billy Breen and others of the League. 
 But Geordie's watchful care and Mrs. Mayor's 
 steady influence, together with the loyal co-opera- 
 tion of the League men, kept Billy safe so far. 
 Nixon, too, was a marked man. It may be that 
 he carried himself with unnecessary jauntiness to- 
 ward Slavin and Idaho, saluting the former with, 
 ' Awful dry weather ! eh, Slavin ? ' and the latter 
 with, ' Hello, old sport ! how 's times ? ' causing 
 them to swear deeply ; and, as it turned out, to 
 do more than swear. 
 
 But on the whole the anti-League men were in 
 favour of a respectable ball, and most of the 
 League men determined to show their apprecia- 
 tion of the concession of the committee to the 
 principles of the League in the important matter 
 of refreshments by attending in force. 
 
 Nixon would not go. However jauntily he 
 might talk, he could not trust himself, as he said, 
 where whisky was flowing, for it got into his nose 
 Mike a fish-hook into a salmon.' He was from
 
 1 64 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Nova Scotia. For like reason, Vernon Winton, 
 the young Oxford fellow, would not go. When 
 they chaffed, his lips grew a little thinner, 
 and the colour deepened in his handsome face, 
 but he went on his way. Geordie despised the 
 1 hale hypothick ' as a ' daft ploy,' and the spend- 
 ing of five dollars upon a ticket he considered a 
 1 sinfu' waste o' guid siller ' ; and he warned Billy 
 against ' coontenancin' ony sic redeeklus non- 
 sense,' 
 
 But no one expected Billy to go ; although the 
 last two months he had done wonders for his 
 personal appearance, and for his position in the 
 social scale as well. They all knew what a fight 
 he was making, and esteemed him accordingly. 
 How well I remember the pleased pride in his 
 face when he told me in the afternoon of the 
 committee's urgent request that he should join 
 the orchestra with his 'cello ! It was not simply 
 that his 'cello was his joy and pride, but he 
 felt it to be a recognition of his return to 
 respectability. 
 
 I have often wondered how things combine at 
 times to a man's destruction. 
 
 Had Mr. Craig not been away at the Landing
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 165 
 
 week, had Geordie not been on the night- 
 shift, had Mrs. Mavor not been so occupied with 
 the care of her sick child, it may be Billy might 
 have been saved his fall. 
 
 The anticipation of the ball stirred Black Rock 
 and the camps with a thrill of expectant delight. 
 Nowadays, when I find myself forced to leave 
 my quiet smoke in my studio after dinner at 
 the call of some social engagement which I have 
 failed to elude, I groan at my hard lot, and I 
 wonder as I look back and remember the plea- 
 surable anticipation with which I viewed the 
 approaching ball. But I do not wonder now any 
 more than I did then at the eager delight of the 
 men who for seven days in the week swung their 
 picks up in the dark breasts of the mines, or who 
 chopped and sawed among the solitary silences 
 of the great forests. Any break in the long and 
 weary monotony was welcome ; what mattered 
 the cost or consequence! To the rudest and 
 least cultured of them the sameness of the life 
 must have been hard to bear ; but what it was 
 to men who had seen life in its most cultured 
 and attractive forms I fail to imagine. From 
 the mine, black and foul, to the shack, bare,
 
 1 66 BLACK ROCK 
 
 cheerless, and sometimes hideously repulsive, life 
 swung in heart-grinding monotony till the long- 
 ing for a ' big drink ' or some other ' big break ' 
 became too great to bear. 
 
 It was well on towards evening when Sandy's 
 four-horse team, with a load of men from the 
 woods, came swinging round the curves of the 
 mountain -road and down the street. A gay 
 crowd they were with their bright, brown faces 
 and hearty voices ; and in ten minutes the whole 
 street seemed alive with lumbermen they had a 
 faculty of spreading themselves so. After night 
 fell the miners came down 'done up slick,' for 
 this was a great occasion, and they must be up 
 to it. The manager appeared in evening dress ; 
 but this was voted ' too giddy ' by the majority. 
 
 As Graeme and I passed up to the Black Rock 
 Hotel, in the large store-room of which the ball 
 was to be held, we met old man Nelson looking 
 very grave. 
 
 4 Going, Nelson, aren't you ? ' I said. 
 
 1 Yes,' he answered slowly ; ' I '11 drop in, though 
 I don't like the look of things much.' 
 
 'What's the matter, Nelson?' asked Graeme 
 cheerily. ' There 's no funeral on. 1
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 167 
 
 * Perhaps not,' replied Nelson, ' but I wish Mr. 
 Craig were home.' And then he added, ' There 's 
 Idaho and Slavin together, and you may bet the 
 devil isn't far off.' 
 
 But Graeme laughed at his suspicion, and we 
 passed on. The orchestra was tuning up. There 
 were two violins, a concertina, and the 'cello. 
 Billy Breen was lovingly fingering his instrument, 
 now and then indulging himself in a little snatch 
 of some air that came to him out of his happier 
 past. He looked perfectly delighted, and as I 
 paused to listen he gave me a proud glance 
 out of his deep, little, blue eyes, and went on 
 playing softly to himself. Presently Shaw came 
 along. 
 
 'That's good, Billy/ he called out. 'You've 
 got the trick yet, I see.' 
 
 But Billy only nodded and went on playing. 
 
 ' Where 's Nixon ? ' I asked. 
 
 'Gone to bed,' said Shaw, 'and I am glad of 
 it. He finds that the safest place on pay-day 
 afternoon. The boys don't bother him there.' 
 
 The dancing-room was lined on two sides with 
 beer-barrels and whisky-kegs ; at one end the 
 orchestra sat, at the other was a table with
 
 1 68 BLACK ROCK 
 
 refreshments, where the 'soft drinks' might be 
 had. Those who wanted anything else might 
 pass through a short passage into the bar just 
 behind. 
 
 This was evidently a superior kind of ball, for 
 the men kept on their coats, and went through 
 the various figures with faces of unnatural 
 solemnity. But the strain upon their feelings 
 was quite apparent, and it became a question 
 how long it could be maintained. As the trips 
 through the passage-way became more frequent 
 the dancing grew in vigour and hilarity, until by 
 the time supper was announced the stiffness had 
 sufficiently vanished to give no further anxiety 
 to the committee. 
 
 But the committee had other cause for concern, 
 inasmuch as after supper certain of the miners 
 appeared with their coats off, and proceeded to 
 ' knock the knots out of the floor ' in break-down 
 dances of extraordinary energy. These, however, 
 were beguiled into the bar-room and ' filled up ' for 
 safety, for the committee were determined that 
 the respectability of the ball should be preserved 
 to the end. Their reputation was at stake, not 
 in Black Rock only, but at the Landing as well,
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 169 
 
 from which most of the ladies had come ; and 
 to be shamed in the presence of the Landing 
 people could not be borne. Their difficulties 
 seemed to be increasing, for at this point some- 
 thing seemed to go wrong with the orchestra. 
 The 'cello appeared to be wandering aimlessly 
 up and down the scale, occasionally picking up 
 the tune with animation, and then dropping it. 
 As Billy saw me approaching, he drew himself 
 up with great solemnity, gravely winked at me, 
 and said 
 
 ' Shlipped a cog, Mishter Connor ! Mosh hun- 
 fortunate ! Beauchiful hinstrument, but shlips a 
 cog. Mosh hunfortunate ! ' 
 
 And he wagged his little head sagely, playing all 
 the while for dear life, now second and now lead. 
 
 Poor Billy 1 I pitied him, but I thought chiefly 
 of the beautiful, eager face that leaned towards 
 him the night the League was made, and of the 
 bright voice that said, 'You'll sign with me, 
 Billy?' and it seemed to me a cruel deed to 
 make him lose his grip of life and hope ; for this 
 is what the pledge meant to him. 
 
 While I was trying to get Billy away to some 
 safe place, I heard a great shouting in the
 
 170 BLACK ROCK 
 
 direction of the bar, followed by trampling and 
 scuffling of feet in the passage-way. Suddenly 
 a man burst through, crying 
 
 ' Let me go ! Stand back ! I know what I 'm 
 about ! ' 
 
 It was Nixon, dressed in his best ; black clothes, 
 blue shirt, red tie, looking handsome enough, but 
 half-drunk and wildly excited. The Highland 
 Fling competition was on at the moment, and 
 Angus Campbell, Lachlan's brother, was repre- 
 senting the lumber camps in the contest. Nixon 
 looked on approvingly for a few moments, then 
 with a quick movement he seized the little High- 
 lander, swung him in his powerful arms clean off 
 the floor, and deposited him gently upon a beer- 
 barrel. Then he stepped into the centre of the 
 room, bowed to the judges, and began a sailor's 
 hornpipe. 
 
 The committee were perplexed, but after 
 deliberation they decided to humour the new 
 competitor, especially as they knew that Nixon 
 with whisky in him was unpleasant to cross. 
 
 Lightly and gracefully he went through his 
 steps, the men crowding in from the bar to 
 admire, for Nixon was famed for his hornpipe.
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 171 
 
 But when, after the hornpipe, he proceeded to 
 execute a clog-dance, garnished with acrobatic 
 feats, the committee interfered. There were 
 cries of ' Put him out ! ' and ' Let him alone ! 
 Go on, Nixon ! ' And Nixon hurled back into 
 the crowd two of the committee who had laid 
 remonstrating hands upon him, and, standing 
 in the open centre, cried out scornfully 
 
 1 Put me out ! Put me out 1 Certainly ! Help 
 yourselves! Don't mind me! 1 Then grinding 
 his teeth, so that I heard them across the 
 room, he added with savage deliberation, ' If 
 any man lays a finger on me, I'll I'll eat his 
 iver cold.' 
 
 He stood for a few moments glaring round 
 upon the company, and then strode toward the 
 bar, followed by the crowd wildly yelling. The 
 ball was forthwith broken up. I looked around 
 for Billy, but he was nowhere to be seen. 
 Graeme touched my arm 
 
 'There's going to be something of a time, so 
 just keep your eyes skinned.' 
 
 1 What are you going to do ? ' I asked 
 
 ' Do ? Keep myself beautifully out of trouble, 
 he replied.
 
 i;a BLACK ROCK 
 
 In a few moments the crowd came surging 
 back headed by Nixon, who was waving a 
 whisky-bottle over his head and yelling as one 
 possessed. 
 
 ' Hello ! ' exclaimed Graeme softly, ' I begin 
 to see. Look there ! ' 
 
 ' What 's up ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' You see Idaho and Slavin and their pets/ he 
 replied. 
 
 'They've got poor Nixon in tow. Idaho is 
 rather nasty,' he added, ' but I think I '11 take 
 a hand in this game ; I 've seen some of Idaho's 
 work before.' 
 
 The scene was one quite strange to me, and 
 was wild beyond description. A hundred men 
 filled the room. Bottles were passed from hand 
 to hand, and men drank their fill. Behind the 
 refreshment-tables stood the hotelman and his 
 barkeeper with their coats off and sleeves rolled 
 up to the shoulder, passing out bottles, and 
 drawing beer and whisky from two kegs 
 hoisted up for that purpose. Nixon was in his 
 glory. It was his night. Every man was to get 
 drunk at his expense, he proclaimed, flinging 
 down bills upon the table. Near him were some
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 173 
 
 League men he was treating liberally, and never 
 far away were Idaho and Slavin passing bottles, 
 but evidently drinking little. 
 
 I followed Graeme, not feeling too comfortable, 
 for this sort of thing was new to me, but admiring 
 the cool assurance with which he made his way 
 through the crowd that swayed and yelled and 
 swore and laughed in a most disconcerting 
 manner. 
 
 ' Hello ! ' shouted Nixon as he caught sight of 
 Graeme. ' Here you are ! ' passing him a bottle. 
 'You're a knocker, a double-handed front-door 
 knocker. You polished off old whisky-soak here, 
 old demijohn/ pointing to Slavin, ' and I '11 lay 
 five to one we can lick any blankety blank 
 thieves in the crowd,' and he held up a roll of 
 bills. 
 
 But Graeme proposed that he should give the 
 hornpipe again, and the floor was cleared at once, 
 for Nixon's hornpipe was very popular, and to- 
 night, of course, was in high favour. In the 
 midst of his dance Nixon stopped short, his 
 arms dropped to his side, his face had a look 
 of fear, of horror. 
 
 There, before him, in his riding-cloak and
 
 i74 BLACK ROCK 
 
 boots, with his whip in his hand as he had come 
 from his ride, stood Mr. Craig. His face was 
 pallid, and his dark eyes were blazing with 
 fierce light As Nixon stopped, Craig stepped 
 forward to him, and sweeping his eyes round upon 
 the circle he said in tones intense with scorn 
 
 'You cowards! You get a man where he's 
 weak ! Cowards ! you 'd damn his soul for his 
 money ! ' 
 
 There was dead silence, and Craig, lifting his 
 hat, said solemnly 
 
 ' May God forgive you this night's work ! ' 
 
 Then, turning to Nixon, and throwing his arm 
 over his shoulder, he said in a voice broken and 
 husky 
 
 ' Come on, Nixon ! we '11 go ! ' 
 
 Idaho made a motion as if to stop him, 
 but Graeme stepped quickly forward and said 
 sharply, 'Make way there, can't you?' and 
 the crowd fell back and we four passed 
 through, Nixon walking as in a dream, with 
 Craig's arm about him. Down the street we 
 went in silence, and on to Craig's shack, where 
 we found old man Nelson, with the fire blazing, 
 and strong coffee steaming on the stove. It was
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 175 
 
 he that had told Craig, on his arrival from the 
 Landing, of Nixon's fall. 
 
 There was nothing of reproach, but only 
 gentlest pity, in tone and touch as Craig placed 
 the half-drunk, dazed man in his easy-chair, 
 took off his boots, brought him his own slippers, 
 and gave him coffee. Then, as his stupor began 
 to overcome him, Craig put him in his own 
 bed, and came forth with a face written over 
 with grief. 
 
 ' Don't mind, old chap,' said Graeme kindly. 
 
 But Craig looked at him without a word, and, 
 throwing himself into a chair, put his face in his 
 hands. As we sat there in silence the door was 
 suddenly pushed open and in walked Abe Baker 
 with the words, ' Where is Nixon ? ' and we told 
 him where he was. We were still talking when 
 again a tap came to the door, and Shaw came 
 in looking much disturbed. 
 
 1 Did you hear about Nixon ? ' he asked. We 
 told him what we knew. 
 
 ' But did you hear how they got him ? ' he 
 asked, excitedly. 
 
 As he told us the tale, the men stood listening, 
 with faces growing hard.
 
 176 BLACK ROCK 
 
 It appeared that after the making of the 
 League the Black Rock Hotel man had bet 
 Idaho one hundred to fifty that Nixon could 
 not be got to drink before Easter. All Idaho's 
 schemes had failed, and now he had only three 
 days in which to win his money, and the ball 
 was his last chance. Here again he was balked, 
 for Nixon, resisting all entreaties, barred his 
 shack door and went to bed before nightfall, 
 according to his invariable custom on pay-days. 
 At midnight some of Idaho's men came battering 
 at the door for admission, which Nixon reluctantly 
 granted. For half an hour they used every art 
 of persuasion to induce him to go down to the 
 ball, the glorious success of which was glowingly 
 depicted ; but Nixon remained immovable, and 
 they took their departure, baffled and cursing. 
 In two hours they returned drunk enough to 
 be dangerous, kicked at the door in vain, finally 
 gained entrance through the window, hauled 
 Nixon out of bed, and, holding a glass of 
 whisky to his lips, bade him drink. But he 
 knocked the glass away, spilling the liquor over 
 himself and the bed. 
 
 It was drink or fight, and Nixon was ready to
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 177 
 
 fight ; but after parley they had a drink all 
 round, and fell to persuasion again. The night 
 was cold, and poor Nixon sat shivering on the 
 edge of his bed. If he would take one drink they 
 would leave him alone. He need not show him- 
 self so stiff. The whisky fumes filled his nostrils. 
 If one drink would get them off, surely that 
 was better than fighting and killing some one or 
 getting killed. He hesitated, yielded, drank his 
 glass. They sat about him amiably drinking, 
 and lauding him as a fine fellow after all. One 
 more glass before they left. Then Nixon rose, 
 dressed himself, drank all that was left of the 
 bottle, put his money in his pocket, and came 
 down to the dance, wild with his old-time mad- 
 ness, reckless of faith and pledge, forgetful of 
 home, wife, babies, his whole being absorbed in 
 one great passion to drink and drink and drink 
 till he could drink no more. 
 
 Before Shaw had finished his tale, Craig's eyes 
 were streaming with tears, and groans of rage 
 and pity broke alternately from him. Abe 
 remained speechless for a time, not trusting 
 himself; but as he heard Craig groan, 'Oh, the 
 beasts! the fiends 1' he seemed encouraged to 
 
 M
 
 i 7 8 BLACK ROCK 
 
 let himself loose, and he began swearing with 
 the coolest and most blood-curdling deliberation. 
 Craig listened with evident approval, apparently 
 finding complete satisfaction in Abe's perform- 
 ance, when suddenly he seemed to waken up, 
 caught Abe by the arm, and said in a horror- 
 stricken voice 
 
 'Stop! stopl God forgive us! we must not 
 swear like this.' 
 
 Abe stopped at once, and in a surprised and 
 slightly grieved voice said 
 
 'Why! what's the matter with that? Ain't 
 that what you wanted ? ' 
 
 'Yes! yes! God forgive me! I am afraid 
 it was,' he answered hurriedly ; ' but I must 
 not' 
 
 ' Oh, don't you worry,' went on Abe cheerfully ; 
 ' I '11 look after that part ; and anyway, ain't they 
 the blankest blankety blank' going off again 
 into a roll of curses, till Craig, in an agony of 
 entreaty, succeeded in arresting the flow of pro- 
 fanity possible to no one but a mountain stage- 
 driver. Abe paused looking hurt, and asked if 
 they did not deserve everything he was calling 
 down upon them.
 
 THE BREAKIN'G OF THE LEAGUE 179, 
 
 *Yes, yes/ urged Craig; 'but that is not our 
 business.' 
 
 ' Well ! so I reckoned,' replied Abe, recognising 
 the limitations of the cloth ; ' you ain't used to it, 
 and you can't be expected to do it ; but it just 
 makes me feel good let out o' school like to 
 properly do 'em up, the blank, blank,' and off he 
 went again. It was only under the pressure of 
 Mr. Craig's prayers and commands that he finally 
 agreed ' to hold in, though it was tough.' 
 
 ' What 's to be done ? ' asked Shaw. 
 
 'Nothing,' answered Craig bitterly. He was 
 exhausted with his long ride from the Landing, 
 and broken with bitter disappointment over the 
 ruin of all that he had laboured so long to 
 accomplish, 
 
 ' Nonsense/ said Graeme ; ' there 's a good deal 
 to do.' 
 
 It was agreed that Craig should remain with 
 Nixon while the others of us should gather up 
 what fragments we could find of the broken 
 League. We had just opened the door, when we 
 met a man striding up at a great pace. It was 
 Geordie Crawford. 
 
 1 Hae ye seen the lad ? ' was his salutation. No
 
 i8o BLACK ROCK 
 
 one replied. So I told Geordie of my last sight 
 of Billy in the orchestra. 
 
 An* did ye no' gang aifter him?' he asked in 
 indignant surprise, adding with some contempt, 
 1 Man ! but ye 're a feckless buddie.' 
 
 'Billy gone too!' said Shaw. 'They might 
 have let Billy alone.' 
 
 Poor Craig stood in a dumb agony. Billy's 
 fall seemed more than he could bear. We went 
 out, leaving him heart-broken amid the ruins of 
 his League.
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 
 
 As we stood outside of Craig's shack in the dim 
 starlight, we could not hide from ourselves that 
 we were beaten. It was not so much grief as a 
 blind fury that filled my heart, and looking at the 
 faces of the men about me I read the same 
 feeling there. But what could we do ? The yells 
 of carousing miners down at Slavin's told us that 
 nothing could be done with them that night. To 
 be so utterly beaten, and unfairly, and with no 
 chance of revenge, was maddening. 
 
 1 1 'd like to get back at 'em,' said Abe, carefully 
 repressing himself. 
 
 1 1 Ve got it, men/ said Graeme suddenly. ' This 
 town does not require all the whisky there is in 
 .it'; and he unfolded his plan. It was to gain 
 possession of Slavin's saloon and the bar of the 
 
 Black Rock Hotel, and clear out all the liquor to 
 
 m
 
 1 84 BLACK ROCK 
 
 be found in both these places. I did not much 
 like the idea ; and Geordie said, ' I 'm ga'en aifter 
 the lad; I'll hae naethin' tae dae wi* yon. It's 
 no' that easy, an' it 's a sinfu' waste/ 
 
 But Abe was wild to try it, and Shaw was 
 quite willing, while old Nelson sternly approved. 
 
 'Nelson, you and Shaw get a couple of our 
 men and attend to the saloon. Slavin and the 
 whole gang are up at the Black Rock, so you 
 won't have much trouble ; but come to us as soon 
 as you can.' 
 
 And so we went our ways. 
 
 Then followed a scene the like of which I can 
 never hope to see again, and it was worth a man's 
 seeing. But there were times that night when I 
 wished I had not agreed to follow Graeme in his 
 plot 
 
 As we went up to the hotel, I asked Graeme, 
 ' What about the law of this ? ' 
 
 'Law!' he replied indignantly. ' They haven't 
 troubled much about law in the whisky business 
 here. They get a keg of high wines and some 
 drugs and begin operations. No ! ' he went on ; 
 'if we can get the crowd out, and ourselves in, 
 we '11 make them break the law in getting us out
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 185 
 
 The law won't trouble us over smuggled whisky. 
 It will be a great lark, and they won't crow too 
 loud over the League.' 
 
 I did not like the undertaking at first ; but as 
 I thought of the whole wretched illegal business 
 flourishing upon the weakness of the men in the 
 mines and camps, whom I had learned to regard 
 as brothers, and especially as I thought of the 
 cowards that did for Nixon, I let my scruples go, 
 and determined, with Abe, ' to get back at 'em.' 
 
 We had no difficulty getting them out. Abe 
 began to yell. Some men rushed out to learn 
 the cause. He seized the foremost man, making 
 a hideous uproar all the while, and in three 
 minutes had every man out of the hotel and a 
 lively row going on. 
 
 In two minutes more Graeme and I had the 
 door to the ball-room locked and barricaded with 
 empty casks. We then closed the door of the 
 bar-room leading to the outside. The bar-room 
 was a strongly built log-shack, with a heavy door 
 secured, after the manner of the early cabins, with 
 two strong oak bars, so that we felt safe from 
 attack from that quarter. 
 
 The ball-room we could not hold long, for the
 
 1 86 BLACK ROCK 
 
 door was slight and entrance was possible through 
 the windows. But as only a few casks of liquor 
 were left there, our main work would be in the 
 bar, so that the fight would be to hold the 
 passage-way. This we barricaded with casks 
 and tables. But by this time the crowd had 
 begun to realise what had happened, and were 
 wildly yelling at door and windows. With an 
 axe which Graeme had brought with him the 
 casks were soon stove in, and left to empty 
 themselves. 
 
 As I was about to empty the last cask, Graeme 
 stopped me, saying, 'Let that stand here. It 
 will help us.' And so it did. 'Now skip for 
 the barricade/ yelled Graeme, as a man came 
 crashing through the window. Before he could 
 regain his feet, however, Graeme had seized him 
 and flung him out upon the heads of the crowd 
 outside. But through the other windows men 
 were coming in, and Graeme rushed for the barri- 
 cade, followed by two of the enemy, the foremost 
 of whom I received at the top and hurled back 
 upon the others. 
 
 ' Now, be quick ! ' said Graeme ; ' I '11 hold this. 
 Don't break any bottles on the floor throw them
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 187 
 
 out there,' pointing to a little window high up in 
 the wall. 
 
 I made all haste. The casks did not take 
 much time, and soon the whisky and beer were 
 flowing over the floor. It made me think of 
 Geordie's regret over the 'sinfu* waste.' The 
 bottles took longer, and glancing up now and 
 then I saw that Graeme was being hard pressed. 
 Men would leap, two and three at a time, upon 
 the barricade, and Graeme's arms would shoot 
 out, and over they would topple upon the heads 
 of those nearest. It was a great sight to see him 
 standing alone with a smile on his face and the 
 light of battle in his eye, coolly meeting his assail- 
 ants with those terrific, lightning-like blows. In 
 fifteen minutes my work was done. 
 
 ' What next ? ' I asked. ' How do we get out ? ' 
 
 ' How is the door ? ' he replied. 
 
 I looked through the port-hole and said, 'A 
 crowd of men waiting.' 
 
 ' We '11 have to make a dash for it, I fancy,' he 
 replied cheerfully, though his face was covered 
 with blood and his breath was coming in short 
 gasps. 
 
 ' Get down the bars and be ready.' But even
 
 1 88 BLACK ROCK 
 
 as he spoke a chair hurled from below caught 
 him on the arm, and before he could recover, a 
 man had cleared the barricade and was upon him 
 like a tiger. It was Idaho Jack. 
 
 ' Hold the barricade/ Graeme called out, as 
 they both went down. 
 
 I sprang to his place, but I had not much hope 
 of holding it long. I had the heavy oak bar of 
 the door in my hands, and swinging it round 
 my head I made the crowd give back for a few 
 moments. 
 
 Meantime Graeme had shaken off his enemy, 
 who was circling about him upon his tip-toes, 
 with a long knife in his hand, waiting for a 
 chance to spring. 
 
 'I have been waiting for this for some time, 
 Mr. Graeme,' he said smiling. 
 
 'Yes,' replied Graeme, 'ever since I spoiled 
 your cut-throat game in 'Frisco. How is the 
 little one?' he added sarcastically. 
 
 Idaho's face lost its smile and became distorted 
 with fury as he replied, spitting out his words, 
 'She is where you will be before I am done 
 with you.' 
 
 'Ahl you murdered her tool You'll hang
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 189 
 
 some beautiful day, Idaho,' said Graeme, as 
 Idaho sprang upon him. 
 
 Graeme dodged his blow and caught his fore- 
 arm with his left hand and held up high the 
 murderous knife. Back and forward they swayed 
 over the floor, slippery with whisky, the knife 
 held high in the air. I wondered why Graeme 
 did not strike, and then I saw his right hand hung 
 limp from the wrist. The men were crowding 
 upon the barricade. I was in despair. Graeme's 
 strength was going fast. With a yell of exultant 
 fury Idaho threw himself with all his weight upon 
 Graeme, who could only cling to him. They 
 swayed together towards me, but as they fell I 
 brought down my bar upon the upraised hand 
 and sent the knife flying across the room. Idaho's 
 howl of rage and pain was mingled with a shout 
 from below, and there, dashing the crowd to right 
 and left, came old Nelson, followed by Abe, Sandy, 
 Baptiste, Shaw, and others. As they reached the 
 barricade it crashed down and, carrying me with 
 it, pinned me fast. 
 
 Looking out between the barrels, I saw what 
 froze my heart with horror. In the fall Graeme 
 had wound his arms about his enemy and held
 
 1 90 BLACK ROCK 
 
 him in a grip so deadly that he could not strike ; 
 but Graeme's strength was failing, and when I 
 looked I saw that Idaho was slowly dragging 
 both across the slippery floor to where the knife 
 lay. Nearer and nearer his outstretched fingers 
 came to the knife. In vain I yelled and struggled. 
 My voice was lost in the awful din, and the barri- 
 cade held me fast Above me, standing on a 
 barrel-head, was Baptiste, yelling like a demon. 
 In vain I called to him. My fingers could just 
 reach his foot, and he heeded not at all my touch. 
 Slowly Idaho was dragging his almost uncon- 
 scious victim toward the knife. His fingers were 
 touching the blade point, when, under a sudden 
 inspiration, I pulled out my penknife, opened it 
 with my teeth, and drove the blade into Baptiste's 
 foot. With a blood-curdling yell he sprang down 
 and began dancing round in his rage, peering 
 among the barrels. 
 
 ' Look ! look ! ' I was calling in agony, and 
 pointing ; ' for heaven's sake, look ! Baptiste ! ' 
 
 The fingers had closed upon the knife, the knife 
 was already high in the air, when, with a shriek, 
 Baptiste cleared the room at a bound, and, before 
 the knife could fall, the little Frenchman's boot
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 191 
 
 hd caught the uplifted wrist, and sent the knife 
 flying to the wall. 
 
 Then there was a great rushing sound as of 
 wind through the forest, and the lights went out. 
 When I awoke, I found myself lying with my head 
 on Graeme's knees, and Baptiste sprinkling snow 
 on my face. As I looked up Graeme leaned over 
 me, and, smiling down into my eyes, he said 
 
 'Good boy! It was a great fight, and we put 
 it up well ' ; and then he whispered, ' I owe you 
 my life, my boy.' 
 
 His words thrilled my heart through and 
 through, for I loved him as only men can love 
 men ; but I only answered 
 
 1 1 could not keep them back.' 
 
 ' It was well done,' he said ; and I felt proud. 
 
 I confess I was thankful to be so well out of 
 it, for Graeme got off with a bone in his wrist 
 broken, and I with a couple of ribs cracked ; but 
 had it not been for the open barrel of whisky 
 which kept them occupied for a time, offering 
 too good a chance to be lost, and for the timely 
 arrival of Nelson, neither of us had ever seen the 
 light again. 
 
 We found Craig sound asleep upon his couch.
 
 iga BLACK ROCK 
 
 His consternation on waking to see us torn, 
 bruised, and bloody was laughable ; but he 
 hastened to find us warm water and bandages, 
 and we soon felt comfortable. 
 
 Baptiste was radiant with pride and light over 
 the fight, and hovered about Graeme and me 
 giving vent to his feelings in admiring French 
 and English expletives. But Abe was disgusted 
 because of the failure at Slavin's ; for when Nelson 
 looked in, he saw Slavin's French-Canadian wife 
 in charge, with her baby on her lap, and he came 
 back to Shaw and said, ' Come away, we can't 
 touch this ' ; and Shaw, after looking in, agreed 
 that nothing could be done. A baby held the 
 fort 
 
 As Craig listened to the account of the fight, he 
 tried hard not to approve, but he could not keep 
 the gleam out of his eyes ; and as I pictured 
 Graeme dashing back the crowd thronging the 
 barricade till he was brought down by the chair, 
 Craig laughed gently, and put his hand on 
 Graeme's knee. And as I went on to describe 
 my agony while Idaho's fingers were gradually 
 nearing the knife, his face grew pale and his eyes 
 grew wide with horror.
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 193 
 
 ^Baptiste here did the business,' I said, and the 
 little Frenchman nodded complacently and said 
 
 ' Dat 's me for sure.' 
 
 'By the way, how is your foot?' asked 
 Graeme. 
 
 ' He 's fuss-rate. Dat 's what you call one 
 bite of of dat leel bees, he 's dere, you put your 
 finger dere, he 's not dere ! what you call him ? ' 
 
 ' Flea ! ' I suggested. 
 
 ' Oui ! ' cried Baptiste. ' Dat 's one bite of flea.' 
 
 ' I was thankful I was under the barrels,' I 
 replied, smiling. 
 
 ' Oui ! Dat 's mak' me ver mad. I jump an' 
 swear mos' awful bad. Dat 's pardon me, M'sieu 
 Craig, heh ? ' 
 
 But Craig only smiled at him rather sadly 
 ' It was awfully risky,' he said to Graeme, ' and i 4 - 
 was hardly worth it. They'll get more whisky, 
 and anyway the League is gone.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Graeme with a sigh of satisfaction, 
 ' it is not quite such a one-sided affair as it was.' 
 
 And we could say nothing in reply, for we 
 could hear Nixon snoring in the next room, and 
 no one had heard of Billy, and there were others 
 of the League that we knew were even now down
 
 i 9 4 BLACK ROCK 
 
 at Slavin's. It was thought best that all should 
 remain in Mr. Craig's shack, not knowing what 
 might happen; and so we lay where we could 
 and we needed none to sing us to sleep. 
 
 When I awoke, stiff and sore, it was to find 
 breakfast ready and old man Nelson in charge. 
 As we were seated, Craig came in, and I saw that 
 he was not the man of the night before. His 
 courage had come back, his face was quiet and 
 his eye clear ; he was his own man again. 
 
 ' Geordie has been out all night, but has failed 
 to find Billy,' he announced quietly. 
 
 We did not talk much ; Graeme and I worried 
 with our broken bones, and the others suffered 
 from a general morning depression. But, after 
 breakfast, as the men were beginning to move, 
 Craig took down his Bible, and saying 
 
 ' Wait a few minutes, men ! ' he read slowly, 
 in his beautiful clear voice, that psalm for all 
 fighters 
 
 ' God is our refuge and strength,' 
 
 and so on to the noble words 
 
 'The Lord of Hosts is with us ; 
 The God of Jacob is our refuge.'
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 195 
 
 How the mighty words pulled us together, lifted 
 us till we grew ashamed of our ignoble rage and 
 of our ignoble depression ! 
 
 And then Craig prayed in simple, straight- 
 going words. There was acknowledgement of 
 failure, but I knew he was thinking chiefly of 
 himself; and there was gratitude, and that was 
 for the men about him, and I felt my face bum 
 with shame ; and there was petition for help, and 
 we all thought of Nixon, and Billy, and the men 
 wakening from their debauch at Slavin's this pure, 
 bright morning. And then he asked that we 
 might be made faithful and worthy of God, whose 
 battle it was. Then we all stood up and shook 
 hands with him in silence, and every man knew 
 a covenant was being made. But none saw his 
 meeting with Nixon. He sent us all away before 
 that. 
 
 Nothing was heard of the destruction of the 
 hotel stock-in-trade. Unpleasant questions would 
 certainly be asked, and the proprietor decided to 
 let bad alone. On the point of respectability the 
 success of the ball was not conspicuous, but the 
 anti-League men were content, if not jubilant 
 
 Billy Breen was found by Geordie late in the
 
 196 BLACK ROCK 
 
 afternoon in his own old and deserted shack, 
 breathing heavily, covered up in his filthy, 
 mouldering bed-clothes, with a half-empty bottle 
 of whisky at his side. Geordie's grief and rage 
 were beyond even his Scotch control. He spoke 
 few words, but these were of such concentrated 
 vehemence that no one felt the need of Abe's 
 assistance in vocabulary. 
 
 Poor Billy ! We carried him to Mrs. Mavor's 
 home ; put him in a warm bath, rolled him in 
 blankets, and gave him little sips of hot water, 
 then of hot milk and coffee ; as I had seen a 
 clever doctor in the hospital treat a similar case 
 of nerve and heart depression. But the already 
 weakened system could not recover from the awful 
 shock of the exposure following the debauch ; and 
 on Sunday afternoon we saw that his heart was 
 failing fast All day the miners had been 
 dropping in to inquire after him, for Billy had 
 been a great favourite in other days, and the 
 attention of the town had been admiringly centred 
 upon his fight of these last weeks. It was with 
 no ordinary sorrow that the news of his con- 
 dition was received. As Mrs. Mavor sang to 
 him, his large coarse hands moved in time to the
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 197 
 
 music, but he did not open his eyes till he heard 
 Mr. Craig's voice in the next room ; then he spoke 
 his name, and Mr. Craig was kneeling beside him 
 in a moment The words came slowly 
 
 1 Oi tried to fight it hout but oi got beaten. 
 Hit 'urts to think 'E 's hashamed o 1 me. Oi'd 
 like t'a done better oi would.' 
 
 ' Ashamed of you, Billy ! ' said Craig, in a voice 
 that broke. ' Not He.' 
 
 'An' ye hall 'elped me so!' he went on. 
 ' Oi wish oi 'd 'a done better oi do,' and his 
 eyes sought Geordie, and then rested on Mrs. 
 Mavor, who smiled back at him with a world of 
 love in her eyes. 
 
 ' You hain't hashamed o' me yore heyes saigh 
 so,' he said looking at her. 
 
 1 No, Billy,' she said, and I wondered at her 
 steady voice, ' not a bit Why, Billy, I am proud 
 of you.' 
 
 He gazed up at her with wonder and ineffable 
 love in his little eyes, then lifted his hand slightly 
 toward her. She knelt quickly and took it in 
 both of hers, stroking it and kissing it 
 
 1 Oi haught t'a done better. Oi 'm hawful sorry 
 oi went back on '1m. Hit was the lemonaide.
 
 i 9 8 BLACK ROCK 
 
 The boys didn't mean no 'arm but hit started 
 the 'ell hinside.' 
 
 Geordie hurled out some bitter words. 
 
 'Don't be 'ard on 'em, Geordie; they didn't 
 mean no 'arm,' he said, and his eyes kept waiting 
 till Geordie said hurriedly 
 
 'Nal nal lad a'll juist leave them till the 
 Almichty.' 
 
 Then Mrs. Mavor sang softly, smoothing his 
 hand, ' Just as I am,' and Billy dozed quietly for 
 half an hour. 
 
 When he awoke again his eyes turned to Mr. 
 Craig, and they were troubled and anxious. 
 
 ' Oi tried 'ard. Oi wanted to win,' he struggled 
 to say. By this time Craig was master of himself, 
 and he answered in a clear, distinct voice 
 
 'Listen, Billy 1 You made a great fight, and 
 you are going to win yet. And besides, do you 
 remember the sheep that got lost over the 
 mountains?' this parable was Billy's special 
 delight ' He didn't beat it when He got it, did 
 He? He took it in His arms and carried it 
 home. And so He will you.' 
 
 And Billy, keeping his eyes fastened on Mr. 
 Craig, simply said
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 199 
 
 'Will'E?' 
 
 1 Sure 1 ' said Craig. 
 
 * Will 'E ? ' he repeated, turning his eyes upon 
 Mrs. Mavor. 
 
 1 Why, yes, Billy,' she answered cheerily, though 
 the tears were streaming from her eyes. 'I 
 would, and He loves you far more.' 
 
 He looked at her, smiled, and closed his eyes 
 I put my hand on his heart; it was fluttering 
 feebly. Again a troubled look passed over his 
 face. 
 
 ' My poor hold mother,' he whispered, 'she's 
 hin the wukus.' 
 
 'I shall take care of her, Billy,' said Mrs. 
 Mavor, in a clear voice, and again Billy smiled. 
 Then he turned his eyes to Mr. Craig, and from 
 him to Geordie, and at last to Mrs. Mavor, where 
 they rested. She bent over and kissed him 
 twice on the forehead. 
 
 1 Tell 'er,' he said, with difficulty, ' 'E 's took me 
 'ome.' 
 
 1 Yes, Billy 1 ' she cried, gazing into his glazing 
 eyes. He tried to lift her hand. She kissed him 
 again. He drew one deep breath and lay quite 
 still
 
 zoo BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' Thank the blessed Saviour 1 ' said Mr. Craig, 
 reverently. ' He has taken him home.' 
 
 But Mrs. Mavor held the dead hand tight and 
 sobbed out passionately, 'Oh, Billy, Billy! you 
 helped me once when I needed help 1 I cannot 
 forget 1 ' 
 
 And Geordie, groaning, 'Ay, laddie, laddie/ 
 passed out into the fading light of the early 
 evening. 
 
 Next day no one went to work, for to all it 
 seemed a sacred day. They carried him into 
 the little church, and there Mr. Craig spoke of 
 his long, hard fight, and of his final victory ; for 
 he died without a fear, and with love to the men 
 who, not knowing, had been his death. And 
 there was no bitterness in any heart, for Mr. 
 Craig read the story of the sheep, and told how 
 gently He had taken Billy home ; but, though no 
 word was spoken, it was there the League was 
 made again. 
 
 They laid him under the pines, beside Lewis 
 Mavor ; and the miners threw sprigs of evergreen 
 into the open grave. When Slavin, sobbing 
 bitterly, brought his sprig, no one stopped him, 
 though all thought it strange.
 
 THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE aoi 
 
 As we turned to leave the grave, the light from 
 the evening sun came softly through the gap in 
 the mountains, and, filling the valley, touched the 
 trees and the little mound beneath with glory. 
 And I thought of that other glory, which is 
 brighter than the sun, and was not sorry that 
 poor Billy's weary fight was over; and I could 
 not help agreeing with Craig that U HTM there 
 the League had its revenge.
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 
 
 BILLY BREEN'S legacy to the Black Rock mining 
 camp was a new League, which was more than 
 the old League re-made. The League was new 
 in its spirit and in its methods. The impression 
 made upon the camp by Billy Breen's death was 
 very remarkable, and I have never been quite able 
 to account for it. The mood of the community at 
 the time was peculiarly susceptible. Billy was one 
 of the oldest of the old-timers. His decline and 
 fall had been a long process, and his struggle for 
 life and manhood was striking enough to arrest 
 the attention and awaken the sympathy of the 
 whole camp. We instinctively side with a man 
 in his struggle for freedom; for we feel that 
 freedom is native to him and to us. The sudden 
 collapse of the struggle stirred the men with a 
 deep pity for the beaten man, and a deep con-
 
 ao6 BLACK ROCK 
 
 tempt for those who had tricked him to his doom. 
 But though the pity and the contempt remained, 
 the gloom was relieved and the sense of defeat 
 removed from the men's minds by the trans- 
 forming glory of Billy's last hour. Mr. Craig, 
 reading of the tragedy of Billy's death, trans- 
 figured defeat into victory, and this was generally 
 accepted by the men as the true reading, though 
 to them it was full of mystery. But they could 
 all understand and appreciate at full value the 
 spirit that breathed through the words of the 
 dying man : ' Don't be 'ard on 'em, they didn't 
 mean no 'arm.' And this was the new spirit of 
 the League. 
 
 It was this spirit that surprised Slavin into 
 sudden tears at the grave's side. He had come 
 braced for curses and vengeance, for all knew it 
 was he who had doctored Billy's lemonade, and 
 instead of vengeance the message from the dead 
 that echoed through the voice of the living was 
 one of pity and forgiveness. 
 
 But the days of the League's negative, defensive 
 warfare were over. The fight was to the death, 
 and now the war was to be carried into the 
 enemy's country. The League men proposed a
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 207 
 
 thoroughly equipped and well-conducted coffee- 
 room, reading-room, and hall, to parallel the 
 enemy's lines of operation, and defeat them with 
 their own weapons upon their own ground. The 
 main outlines of the scheme were clearly defined 
 and were easily seen, but the perfecting of the 
 details called for all Craig's tact and good sense. 
 When, for instance, Vernon Winton, who had 
 charge of the entertainment department, came 
 for Craig's opinion as to a minstrel troupe 
 and private theatricals, Craig was prompt with 
 his answer 
 
 1 Anything clean goes.' 
 
 ' A nigger show ? ' asked Winton. 
 
 1 Depends upon the niggers,' replied Craig with 
 a gravely comic look, shrewdly adding, 'ask 
 Mrs. Mavor'; and so the League Minstrel and 
 Dramatic Company became an established fact, 
 and proved, as Craig afterwards told me, ' a great 
 means of grace to the camp.' 
 
 Shaw had charge of the social department, 
 whose special care it was to see that the men 
 were made welcome to the cosy, cheerful reading 
 room, where they might chat, smoke, read, write, 
 or play games, according to fancy.
 
 io8 BLACK ROCK 
 
 But Craig /bit that the success or failure of the 
 scheme would largely depend upon the character 
 of the Resident Manager, who, while caring for 
 reading-room and hall, would control and operate 
 the important department represented by the 
 coffee-room. 
 
 ' At this point the whole business may come to 
 grief/ he said to Mrs. Mavor, without whose 
 counsel nothing was done. 
 
 'Why come to grief?' she asked brightly. 
 
 1 Because if we don't get the right man, that 's 
 what will happen/ he replied in a tone that 
 spoke of anxious worry. 
 
 'But we shall get the right man, never fear.' 
 Her serene courage never faltered. 'He will 
 come to us/ 
 
 Craig turned and gazed at her in frank admira- 
 tion and said 
 
 ' If I only had your courage I* 
 
 ' Courage 1 ' she answered quickly. ' It is not 
 for you to say that ' ; and at his answering look 
 the red came into her cheek and the depths in 
 her eyes glowed, and I marvelled and wondered, 
 looking at Craig's cool face, whether his blood 
 were running evenly through his veins. But his
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 209 
 
 voice was quiet, a shade too quiet I thought, as 
 he gravely replied 
 
 4 1 would often be a coward but for the shame 
 of it' 
 
 And so the League waited for the man to 
 come, who was to be Resident Manager and 
 make the new enterprise a success. And come 
 he did ; but the manner of his coming was so 
 extraordinary, that I have believed in the doctrine 
 of a special providence ever since ; for as Craig 
 said, ' If he had come straight from Heaven I 
 could not have been more surprised.' 
 
 While the League was thus waiting, its interest 
 centred upon Slavin, chiefly because he represented 
 more than any other the forces of the enemy ; 
 and though Billy Breen stood between him and 
 the vengeance of the angry men who would have 
 made short work of him and his saloon, nothing 
 could save him from himself, and after the funeral 
 Slavin went to his bar and drank whisky as he 
 had never drunk before. But the more he drank 
 the fiercer and gloomier he became, and when the 
 men drinking with him chaffed him, he swore 
 deeply and with such threats that they left him 
 alone.
 
 aio BLACK ROCK 
 
 It did not help Slavin either to have Nixon 
 stride in through the crowd drinking at his bar 
 and give him words of warning. 
 
 ' It is not your fault, Slavin,' he said in slow, 
 cool voice, 'that you and your precious crew 
 didn't sent me to my death, too. You've won 
 your bet, but I want to say, that next time, though 
 you are seven to one, or ten times that, when any 
 of you boys offer me a drink I '11 take you to 
 mean fight, and I '11 not disappoint you, and 
 some one will be killed,' and so saying he strode 
 out again, leaving a mean-looking crowd of men 
 behind him. All who had not been concerned in 
 the business at Nixon's shack expressed approval 
 of his position, and hoped he would 'see it 
 through.' 
 
 But the impression of Nixon's words upon 
 Slavin was as nothing compared with that made 
 by Geordie Crawford. It was not what he said 
 so much as the manner of awful solemnity he 
 carried. Geordie was struggling conscientiously 
 to keep his promise to ' not be 'ard on the boys/ 
 and found considerable relief in remembering 
 that he haJ agreed 'to leave them tae the 
 Almichty.' But the manner of leaving them was
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN sn 
 
 so solemnly awful, that I could not wonder that 
 Slavin's superstitious Irish nature supplied him 
 with supernatural terrors. It was the second day 
 after the funeral that Geordie and I were walking 
 towards Slavin's. There was a great shout of 
 laughter as we drew near. 
 
 Geordie stopped short, and saying, ' We'll juist 
 gang in a meenute,' passed through the crowd 
 and up to the bar. 
 
 ' Michael Slavin,' began Geordie, and the men 
 stared in dead silence, with their glasses in their 
 hands. ' Michael Slavin, a' promised the lad a'd 
 bear ye nae ill wull, but juist leave ye tae the Al- 
 michty ; an' I want tae tell ye that a'm keepin' 
 ma wur-r-d. But ' and here he raised his hand, 
 and his voice became preternaturally solemn 
 ' his bluid is upon yer han's. Do ye no' see it ? ' 
 
 His voice rose sharply, and as he pointed, 
 Slavin instinctively glanced at his hands, and 
 Geordie added 
 
 'Ay, and the Lord will require it o' you and 
 yer hoose.' 
 
 They told me that Slavin shivered as if 
 taken with ague after Geordie went out, and 
 though he laughed and swore, he did not stop
 
 ia BLACK ROCK 
 
 drinking till he sank into a drunken stupor and 
 had to be carried to bed. His little French- 
 Canadian wife could not understand the change 
 that had come over her husband. 
 
 'He's like one bear/ she confided to Mrs. 
 Mavor, to whom she was showing her baby of a 
 year old. 'He's not kees me one tarn dis day. 
 He 's mos hawful bad, he 's not even look at de 
 baby.' And this seemed sufficient proof that 
 something was seriously wrong ; for she went on 
 to say 
 
 ' He 's tink more for dat leel baby dan for de 
 whole worl' ; he 's tink more for dat baby dan for 
 me,' but she shrugged her pretty little shoulders 
 in deprecation of her speech. 
 
 'You must pray for him,' said Mrs. Mavor, 
 1 and all will come right.' 
 
 'Ah! madame!' she replied earnestly, 'every 
 day, every day, I pray la sainte Vierge et tous les 
 saints for him.' 
 
 ' You must pray to your Father in heaven for 
 him/ 
 
 ' Ah 1 oui 1 I weel pray,' and Mrs. Mavor sent 
 her away bright with smiles, and with new hope 
 and courage in her heart
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 213 
 
 She had very soon need of all her courage, for 
 at the week's end her baby fell dangerously ill. 
 Slavin's anxiety and fear were not relieved much 
 by the reports the men brought him from time to 
 time of Geordie's ominous forebodings ; for 
 Geordie had no doubt but that the Avenger of 
 Blood was hot upon Slavin's trail ; and as the 
 sickness grew, he became confirmed in this con- 
 viction. While he could not be said to find 
 satisfaction in Slavin's impending affliction, he 
 could hardly hide his complacency in the 
 promptness of Providence in vindicating his 
 theory of retribution. 
 
 But Geordie's complacency was somewhat 
 rudely shocked by Mr. Craig's answer to his 
 theory one day. 
 
 'You read your Bible to little profit, it seems 
 to me, Geordie : or, perhaps, you have never read 
 the Master's teaching about the Tower of Siloam. 
 Better read that and take that warning to your- 
 self.' 
 
 Geordie gazed after Mr. Craig as he turned 
 away, and muttered 
 
 'The toor o' Siloam, is it? Ay, a' ken fine 
 aboot the toor o' Siloam, and aboot the^toor o'
 
 a 14 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Babel as weel ; an' a've read, too, about the 
 blaspheemious Herod, an' sic like. Man, but 
 he's a hot-heided laddie, and lacks discreem- 
 eenation.' 
 
 1 What about Herod, Geordie ? ' I asked. 
 
 1 Aboot Herod ? ' with a strong tinge of con- 
 tempt in his tone. 'Aboot Herod? Man, hae 
 ye no' read in the Screepturs aboot Herod an* 
 the wur-r-ms in the wame o' him ? ' 
 
 ' Oh yes, I see,' I hastened to answer. 
 
 ' Ay, a fule can see what 's flapped in his face/ 
 with which bit of proverbial philosophy h* 
 suddenly left me. But Geordie thenceforth con- 
 tented himself, in Mr. Craig's presence at least. 
 with ominous head-shakings, equally aggravaliog, 
 and impossible to answer. 
 
 That same night, however, Geordie showed 
 that with all his theories he had a man's true 
 heart, for he came in haste to Mrs. Mavor to say : 
 
 ' Ye '11 be needed ower yonder, a'm thinkinV 
 
 'Why? Is the baby worse? Have you 
 been in ? ' 
 
 'Na, na/ replied Geordie cautiously, 'a'll no 
 gang where a'm no wanted. But yon puir thing, 
 ye can hear ootside weepin* and moaninV
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN ai$ 
 
 'She'll maybe need ye tae,' he went on 
 dubiously to me. ' Ye 're a kind o' doctor, a' hear,' 
 not committing himself to any opinion as to my 
 professional value. But Slavin would have none 
 of me, having got the doctor sober enough to 
 prescribe. 
 
 The interest of the camp in Slavin was greatly 
 increased by the illness of his baby, which was 
 to him as the apple of his eye. There were a few 
 who, impressed by Geordie's profound convictions 
 upon the matter, were inclined to favour the 
 retribution theory, and connect the baby's illness 
 with the vengeance of the Almighty. Among 
 these few was Slavin himself, and goaded by his 
 remorseful terrors he sought relief in drink. But 
 this brought him only deeper and fiercer gloom ; 
 so that between her suffering child and her 
 savagely despairing husband, the poor mother 
 was desperate with terror and grief. 
 
 'Ah! madame/ she sobbed to Mrs. Mavor, 
 'my heart is broke for him. He's heet noting 
 for tree days, but jis dreenk, dreenk, dreenk.' 
 
 The next day a man came for me in haste. 
 The baby was dying and the doctor was drunk. 
 I found the little one in a convulsion lying across
 
 ai6 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Mrs. Mayor's knees, the mother kneeling beside 
 it, wringing her hands in a dumb agony, and 
 Slavin standing near, silent and suffering. I 
 glanced at the bottle of medicine upon the table 
 and asked Mrs. Mavor the dose, and found the 
 baby had been poisoned. My look of horror told 
 Slavin something was wrong, and striding to me 
 he caught my arm and askea 
 
 'What is it? Is the medicine wrong? 
 
 I tried to put him off, but his grip tightened 
 till his fingers seemed to reach the bone, 
 
 1 The dose is certainly too large ; but let me go, 
 I must do something.' 
 
 He let me go at once, saying in a voice that 
 made my heart sore for him, ' He has killed my 
 baby; he has killed my baby.' And then he 
 cursed the doctor with awful curses, and with a 
 look of such murderous fury on his face that I was 
 glad the doctor was too drunk to appear. 
 
 His wife hearing his curses, and understanding 
 the cause, broke out into wailing hard to bear. 
 
 'Ah! mon petit ange! It is dat wheeskey 
 dat 's keel mon baby. Ah ! mon cheri, mon 
 amour. Ah ! mon Dieu I Ah, Michael, how often 
 I say that wheeskey he 's not good ting.'
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 117 
 
 It was more than Slavin could bear, and with 
 awful curses he passed out Mrs. Mavor laid the 
 baby in its crib, for the convulsion had passed 
 away ; and putting her arms about the wailing 
 little Frenchwoman, comforted and soothed her 
 as a mother might her child. 
 
 'And you must help your husband/ I heard 
 her say. ' He will need you more than ever. 
 Think of him.' 
 
 'Ah! ouil I weel, 1 was the quick reply, and 
 from that moment there was no more wailing. 
 
 It seemed no more than a minute till Slavin 
 came in again, sober, quiet, and steady; the 
 passion was all gone from his face, and only the 
 grief remained. 
 
 As we stood leaning over the sleeping child the 
 little thing opened its eyes, saw its father, and 
 smiled. It was too much for him. The big man 
 dropped on his knees with a dry sob. 
 
 'Is there no chance at all, at all?' he whispered, 
 but I could give him no hope. He immediately 
 rose, and pulling himself together, stood perfectly 
 quiet. 
 
 A new terror seized upon the mother. 
 
 1 My baby is not what you call it ? f going
 
 ai8 BLACK ROCK 
 
 through the form of baptism. ' An* he will not 
 come to la sainte Vierge,' she said, crossing her- 
 self. 
 
 'Do not fear for your little one,' said Mrs. 
 Mavor, still with her arms about her. ' The good 
 Saviour will take your darling into His own arms.' 
 
 But the mother would not be comforted by 
 this. And Slavin too, was uneasy. 
 
 Where is Father Goulet?' he asked. 
 
 ' Ah ! you were not good to the holy pere de 
 las tarn, Michael,' she replied sadly. ' The saints 
 are not please for you. 1 
 
 I Where is the priest ? ' he demanded. 
 
 'I know not for sure. At de Landin', dat's 
 lak.' 
 
 I 1 '11 go for him,' he said. But his wife clung 
 to him, beseeching him not to leave her, and 
 indeed he was loth to leave his little one. 
 
 I found Craig and told him the difficulty. 
 With his usual promptness, he was ready with 
 a solution. 
 
 'Nixon has a team. He will go.' Then he 
 added, ' I wonder if they would not like me to 
 baptize their little one. Father Goulet and I 
 have exchanged offices before now. I remember
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN aig 
 
 how he came to one of my people in my absence, 
 when she was dying, read with her, prayed with 
 her, comforted her, and helped her across the river. 
 He is a good soul, and has no nonsense about 
 him. Send for me if you think there is need. It 
 will make no difference to the baby, but it will 
 comfort the mother.' 
 
 Nixon was willing enough to go ; but when he 
 came to the door Mrs. Mavor saw the hard look 
 in his face. He had not forgotten his wrong, for 
 day by day he was still fighting the devil within 
 that Slavin had called to life. But Mrs. Mavor, 
 under cover of getting him instructions, drew him 
 into the room. While listening to her, his eyes 
 wandered from one to the other of the group till 
 they rested upon the little white face in the crib. 
 She noticed the change in his face. 
 
 'They fear the little one will never see the 
 Saviour if it is not baptized,' she said, in a low 
 tone. 
 
 He was eager to go. 
 
 1 1 '11 do my best to get the priest,' he said, and 
 was gone on his sixty miles' race with death. 
 
 The long afternoon wore on, but before it was 
 half gone I saw Nixon could not win, and that
 
 220 BLACK ROCK 
 
 the priest would be too late, so I sent for Mr. 
 Craig. From the moment he entered the room 
 he took command of us all. He was so simple, 
 so manly, so tender, the hearts of the parents 
 instinctively turned to him. 
 
 As he was about to proceed with the baptism, 
 the mother whispered to Mrs. Mavor, who hesitat- 
 ingly asked Mr. Craig if he would object to using 
 holy water. 
 
 ' To me it is the same as any other,' he replied 
 gravely. 
 
 ' An' will he make the good sign ? ' asked the 
 mother timidly. 
 
 And so the child was baptized by the Presby- 
 terian minister with holy water and with the sign 
 of the cross. I don't suppose it was orthodox, 
 and it rendered chaotic some of my religious 
 notions, but I thought more of Craig that moment 
 than ever before. He was more man than minister, 
 or perhaps he was so good a minister that day 
 because so much a man. As he read about the 
 Saviour and the children and the disciples who 
 tried to get in between them, and as he told us 
 the story in his own simple and beautiful way, 
 and then went on to picture the home of the little
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 221 
 
 children, and the same Saviour in the midst of 
 them, I felt my heart grow warm, and I could 
 easily understand the cry of the mother 
 
 * Oh, mon Je"su, prenez moi aussi, take me wiz 
 mon mignon.' 
 
 The cry wakened Slavin's heart, and he said 
 huskily 
 
 'Oh! Annette! Annette!' 
 
 'Ah, oui ! an* Michael too ! ' Then to Mr. 
 Craig 
 
 ' You tink He 's tak me some day ? Eh ? ' 
 
 'All who love Him,' he replied. 
 
 ' An' Michael too ? ' she asked, her eyes search- 
 ing his face. ' An* Michael too ? ' 
 
 But Craig only replied : ' All who love Him.' 
 
 ' Ah, Michael, you must pray le bon Je'su. He 's 
 garde notre mignon.' And then she bent over 
 the babe, whispering 
 
 ' Ah, mon cheri, mon amour, adieu I adieu ! 
 mon ange ! ' till Slavin put his arms about her 
 and took her away, for as she was whispering her 
 farewells, her baby, with a little answering sigh, 
 passed into the House with many rooms. 
 
 ' Whisht, Annette darlin' ; don't cry for the 
 baby,' said her husband. 'Shure it's better off
 
 22* BLACK ROCK 
 
 than the rest av us, it is. An' didn't ye hear what 
 the minister said about the beautiful place it is? 
 An' shure he wouldn't lie to us at all.' But a 
 mother cannot be comforted for her first-born son. 
 
 An hour later Nixon brought Father GouleL 
 He was a little Frenchman with gentle manners 
 and the face of a saint. Craig welcomed him 
 warmly, and told him what he had done. 
 
 ' That is good, my brother,' he said, with gentle 
 courtesy, and, turning to the mother, ' Your little 
 one is safe.' 
 
 Behind Father Goulet came Nixon softly, and 
 gazed down upon the little quiet face, beautiful 
 with the magic of death. Slavin came quietly 
 and stood beside him. Nixon turned and offered 
 his hand. But Slavin said, moving slowly back 
 
 ' I did ye a wrong, Nixon, an' it 's a sorry man 
 I am this day for it* 
 
 'Don't say a word, Slavin,' answered Nixon, 
 hurriedly. * I know how you feel I 've got a 
 baby too. I want to see it again. That 's why 
 the break hurt me so.' 
 
 'As God's above,' replied Slavin earnestly, Til 
 hinder ye no more.' They shook hands, and we 
 passed out
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 223 
 
 We laid the baby under the pines, not far from 
 Billy Breen, and the sweet spring wind blew 
 through the Gap, and came softly down the 
 valley, whispering to the pines and the grass and 
 the hiding flowers of the New Life coming to the 
 world. And the mother must have heard the 
 whisper in her heart, for, as the Priest was saying 
 the words of the Service, she stood with Mrs. 
 Mavor's arms about her, and her eyes were looking 
 far away beyond the purple mountain-tops, seeing 
 what made her smile. And Slavin, too, looked 
 different. His very leatures seemed finer. The 
 coarseness was gone out of his face. What had 
 come to him I could not tell. 
 
 But when the doctor came into Slavin's house 
 that night it was the old Slavin I saw, but with 
 a look of such deadly fury on his face that I 
 tried to get the doctor out at once. But he 
 was half drunk and after his manner was 
 hideously humorous. 
 
 ' How do, ladies ! How do, gentlemen ! ' was his 
 loud-voiced salutation. 'Quite a professional 
 gathering, clergy predominating. Lion and Lamb 
 too, ha! ha! which is the lamb, eh? ha! ha! 
 very good ! awfully sorry to hear of your loss,
 
 224 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Mrs. Slavin ; did our best you know, can 't help 
 this sort of thing. 1 
 
 Before any one could move, Craig was at his 
 side, and saying in a clear, firm voice, 'One 
 moment, doctor,' caught him by the arm and 
 had him out of the room before he knew it 
 Slavin, who had been crouching in his chair 
 with hands twitching and eyes glaring, rose and 
 followed, still crouching as he walked. I hurried 
 after him, calling him back. Turning at my voice, 
 the doctor saw Slavin approaching. There was 
 something so terrifying in his swift noiseless 
 crouching motion, that the doctor, crying out 
 in fear 'Keep him off,' fairly turned and fled. 
 He was too late. Like a tiger Slavin leaped 
 upon him and without waiting to strike had 
 him by the throat with both hands, and bearing 
 him to the ground, worried him there as a dog 
 might a cat. 
 
 Immediately Craig and I were upon him, 
 but though we lifted him clear off the ground 
 we could not loosen that two-handed strang- 
 ling grip. As we were struggling there a light 
 hand touched my shoulder. It was Father 
 Goulet.
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 125 
 
 1 Please let him go, and stand away from us,' 
 he said, waving us back. We obeyed. He 
 leaned over Slavin and spoke a few words to 
 him. Slavin started as if struck a heavy blow, 
 Soked up at the priest with fear in his face, but 
 still keeping his grip. 
 
 ' Let him go,' said the priest. Slavin hesitated. 
 ' Let him go ! quick 1 ' said the priest again, and 
 Slavin with a snarl let go his hold and stood 
 sullenly facing the priest. 
 
 Father Goulet regarded him steadily for some 
 seconds and then asked 
 
 ' What would you do ? ' His voice was gentle 
 enough, even sweet, but there was something in 
 it that chilled my marrow. 'What would you 
 do ? ' he repeated. 
 
 ' He murdered my child/ growled Slavia 
 
 'Ah! how?' 
 
 ' He was drunk and poisoned him.' 
 
 'Ah! who gave him drink? Who made him 
 a drunkard two years ago? Who has wrecked 
 his life? 1 
 
 There was no answer, and the even-toned voice 
 went relentlessly on 
 
 1 Who is the murderer of your child now ? ' 
 P
 
 226 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Slavin groaned and shuddered. 
 
 ' Go ! ' and the voice grew stern. ' Repent of 
 your sin and add not another.' 
 
 Slavin turned his eyes upon the motionless 
 figure on the ground and then upon the priest. 
 Father Goulet took one step towards him, and, 
 stretching out his hand and pointing with his 
 finger, said 
 
 'Gol' 
 
 And Slavin slowly backed away and went into 
 his house. It was an extraordinary scene, and 
 it is often with me now : the dark figure on the 
 ground, the slight erect form of the priest with 
 outstretched arm and finger, and Slavin backing 
 away, fear and fury struggling in his face. 
 
 It was a near thing for the doctor, however, 
 and two minutes more of that grip would have 
 done for him. As it was, we had the greatest 
 difficulty in reviving him. 
 
 What the priest did with Slavin after getting 
 him inside I know not ; that has always been 
 a mystery to me. But when we were passing 
 the saloon that night after taking Mrs. Mavor 
 home, we saw a light and heard strange sounds 
 within. Entering, we found another whisky
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN aa; 
 
 raid In progress, Slavin himself being the raider. 
 We stood some moments watching him knocking 
 in the heads of casks and emptying bottles. I 
 thought he had gone mad, and approached him 
 cautiously. 
 
 1 Hello, Slavin ! ' I called out ; * what does this 
 mean ? ' 
 
 He paused in his strange work, and I saw that 
 his face, though resolute, was quiet enough. 
 
 ' It means I 'm done wid the business, I am,' 
 he said, in a determined voice. ' I '11 help no 
 more to kill any man, or,' in a lower tone, ' any 
 man's baby.' The priest's words had struck home. 
 
 ' Thank God, Slavin ! ' said Craig, offering his 
 hand ; ' you are much too good a man for the 
 business.' 
 
 'Good or bad, I'm done wid it,' he replied, 
 going on with his work. 
 
 1 You are throwing away good money, Slavin,' 
 I said, as the head of a cask crashed in. 
 
 'It's meself that knows it, for the price of 
 whisky has riz in town this week,' he answered, 
 giving me a look out of the corner of his eye. 
 ' Bedad ! it was a rare clever job,' referring to our 
 Black Rock Hotel affair.
 
 32 8 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' But won't you be sorry for this ? ' asked Craig. 
 
 'Beloike I will; an* that's why I'm doin' it 
 before I 'm sorry for it,' he replied, with a de- 
 lightful bull. 
 
 1 Look here, Slavin,' said Craig earnestly ; ' if 
 I can be of use to you in any way, count on me.' 
 
 ' It 's good to me the both of yez have been, an' 
 I'll not forget it to yez,' he replied, with like 
 earnestness. 
 
 As we told Mrs. Mavor that night, for Craig 
 thought it too good to keep, her eyes seemed 
 to grow deeper and the light in them to glow 
 more intense as she listened to Craig pouring 
 out his tale. Then she gave him her hand and 
 said 
 
 ' You have your man at last' 
 
 ' What man ? ' 
 
 1 The man you have been waiting for/ 
 
 ' Slavin 1' 
 
 Why not?' 
 
 ' I never thought of it' 
 
 1 No more did he, nor any of us.' Then, after 
 a pause, she added gently, ' He has been sent to 
 us.' 
 
 1 Do you know, I believe you are right* Craig
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN *a 9 
 
 said slowly, and then added, 'But you always 
 are.' 
 
 1 1 fear not, 1 she answered ; but I thought she 
 liked to hear his words. 
 
 The whole town was astounded next morning 
 when Slavin went to work in the mines, and its 
 astonishment only deepened as the days went on, 
 and he stuck to his work. Before three weeks 
 had gone the League had bought and remodelled 
 the saloon and had secured Slavin as Resident 
 Manager. 
 
 The evening of the reopening of Slavin's 
 saloon, as it was still called, was long remembered 
 in Black Rock. It was the occasion of the first 
 appearance of 'The League Minstrel and Dra- 
 matic Troupe,' in what was described as a ' hair- 
 lifting tragedy with appropriate musical selections. 1 
 Then there was a grand supper and speeches and 
 great enthusiasm, which reached its climax when 
 Nixon rose to propose the toast of the evening 
 1 Our Saloon.' His speech was simply a quiet, 
 manly account of his long struggle with the 
 deadly enemy. When he came to speak of his 
 recent defeat he said 
 
 ' And while I am blaming no one but myself, I
 
 230 BLACK ROCK 
 
 am glad to-night that this saloon is on our side, 
 for my own sake and for the sake of those who 
 have been waiting long to see me. But before I 
 sit down I want to say that while I live I shall 
 not forget that I owe my life to the man that 
 took me that night to his own shack and put me 
 in his own bed, and met me next morning with 
 an open hand ; for I tell you I had sworn to God 
 that that morning would be my last.' 
 
 Geordie's speech was characteristic. After a 
 brief reference to the 'mysteerious ways o' 
 Providence/ which he acknowledged he might 
 sometimes fail to understand, he went on to 
 express his unqualified approval of the new 
 saloon. 
 
 'It's a cosy place, an' there's nae sulphur 
 aboot. Besides a' that,' he went on enthusi- 
 astically, ' it '11 be a terrible savin'. I 've juist 
 been coontin'.' 
 
 'You bet!' ejaculated a voice with great 
 emphasis. 
 
 ' I 've juist been coontin',' went on Geordie, 
 ignoring the remark and the laugh which followed, 
 1 an' it 's an awfu'-like money ye pit ower wi' the 
 whusky. Ye see ye canna dae wi' ane bit glass ;
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 31 
 
 ye maun hae twa or three at the verra least, for 
 it 's no verra forrit ye get wi' ane glass. But wi' 
 yon coffee ye juist get a saxpence-worth an' ye 
 want nae mair. 1 
 
 There was another shout of laughter, which 
 puzzled Geordie much. 
 
 1 1 dinna see the jowk, but I 've slippit ower in 
 whusky mair nor a hunner dollars.' 
 
 Then he paused, looking hard before him, and 
 twisting his face into extraordinary shapes till the 
 men looked at him in wonder. 
 
 'I'm rale glad o' this saloon, but it's ower 
 late for the lad that canna be helpit the noo. 
 He'll not be needin* help o' oors, I doot, but 
 there are ithers ' and he stopped abruptly and 
 sat down, with no applause following. 
 
 But when Slavin, our saloon-keeper, rose to 
 reply, the men jumped up on the seats and yelled 
 till they could yell no more. Slavin stood, 
 evidently in trouble with himself, and finally 
 broke out 
 
 'It's spacheless I am entirely. What's come 
 to me I know not, nor how it 's come. But I '11 
 do my best for yez.' And then the yelling broke 
 out again.
 
 132 BLACK ROCK 
 
 I did not yell myself. I was too busy watching 
 the varying lights in Mrs. Mayor's eyes as she 
 looked from Craig to the yelling men on the 
 benches and tables, and then to Slavin, and I 
 found myself wondering If she knew what it was 
 that came to Slavia
 
 THE TWO CALLS
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE TWO CALLS 
 
 WITH the call to Mr. Craig I fancy I had some- 
 thing to do myself. The call came from a young 
 congregation in an eastern city, and was based 
 partly upon his college record and more upon the 
 advice of those among the authorities who knew 
 his work in the mountains. But I flatter myself 
 that my letters to friends who were of importance 
 in that congregation were not without influence, 
 for I was of the mind that the man who could 
 handle Black Rock miners as he could was ready 
 for something larger than a mountain mission. 
 That he would refuse I had not imagined, though 
 I ought to have known him better. He was 
 but little troubled over it He went with the call 
 and the letters urging his acceptance to Mrs. 
 Mavor. I was putting the last touches to some of 
 my work in the room at the back of Mrs. Mayor's
 
 236 BLACK ROCK 
 
 house when he came in. She read the letters 
 and the call quietly, and waited for him to speak. 
 
 'Well?' he said ; ' should I go? f 
 
 She started, and grew a little pale. His question 
 suggested a possibility that had not occurred to 
 her. That he could leave his work in Black Rock 
 she had hitherto never imagined ; but there was 
 other work, and he was fit for good work anywhere. 
 Why should he not go? I saw the fear in her 
 face, but I saw more than fear in her eyes, as for 
 a moment or two she let them rest upon Craig's 
 face. I read her story, and I was not sorry for 
 either of them. But she was too much a woman 
 to show her heart easily to the man she loved, 
 and her voice was even and calm as she answered 
 his question. 
 
 ' Is this a very large congregation ? * 
 
 ' One of the finest in all the East,' I put in for 
 him. ' It will be a great thing for Craig.' 
 
 Craig was studying her curiously. I think she 
 noticed his eyes upon her, for she went on even 
 more quietly 
 
 1 It will be a great chance for work, and you 
 are able for a larger sphere, you know, than poor 
 Black Rock affords.'
 
 THE TWO CALLS tj7 
 
 1 Who will take Black Rock ? ' he asked 
 
 1 Let some other fellow have a try at it,' I said. 
 'Why should you waste your talents here?' 
 
 1 Waste ? ' cried Mrs. Mavor indignantly. 
 
 Well, "bury," if you like it better,' I replied 
 
 ' It would not take much of a grave for that 
 funeral/ said Craig, smiling. 
 
 'Oh/ said Mrs. Mavor, 'you will be a great 
 man I know, and perhaps you ought to go 
 now.' 
 
 But he answered coolly : ' There are fifty men 
 wanting that Eastern charge, and there is only 
 one wanting Black Rock, and I don't think Black 
 Rock is anxious for a change, so I have deter- 
 mined to stay where I am yet a while.* 
 
 Even my deep disgust and disappointment did 
 not prevent me from seeing the sudden leap of 
 joy in Mrs. Mayor's eyes, but she, with a great 
 effort, answered quietly 
 
 ' Black Rock will be very glad, and some of us 
 very, very glad.' 
 
 Nothing could change his mind. There was 
 no one he knew who could take his place just 
 now, and why should he quit his work? It 
 annoyed me considerably to feel he was right
 
 *3 BLACK ROCK 
 
 Why is it that the right things are so frequently 
 unpleasant? 
 
 And if I had had any doubt about the matter 
 next Sabbath evening would have removed it. 
 For the men came about him after the service 
 and let him feel in their own way how much they 
 approved his decision, though the self-sacrifice 
 involved did not appeal to them. They were too 
 truly Western to imagine that any inducements 
 the East could offer could compensate for his loss 
 of the West. It was only fitting that the West 
 should have the best, and so the miners took 
 almost as a matter of course, and certainly as 
 their right, that the best man they knew should 
 stay with them. But there were those who knew 
 how much of what most men consider worth 
 while he had given up, and they loved him no 
 less for it 
 
 Mrs. Mavor's call was not so easily disposed of. 
 It came close upon the other, and stirred Black 
 Rock as nothing else had ever stirred it before. 
 
 I found her one afternoon gazing vacantly at 
 some legal documents spread out before her on 
 the table, and evidently overcome by their con- 
 tents. There was first a lawyer's letter informing
 
 THE TWO CALLS t 39 
 
 her that by the death of her husband's father she 
 had come into the whole of the Mavor estates, 
 and all the wealth pertaining thereto. The letter 
 asked for instructions, and urged an immediate 
 return with a view to a personal superintendence 
 of the estates. A letter, too, from a distant 
 cousin of her husband urged her immediate 
 return for many reasons, but chiefly on account 
 of the old mother who had been left alone with 
 none nearer of kin than himself to care for her 
 and cheer her old age. 
 
 With these two came another letter from her 
 mother-in-law herself. The crabbed, trembling 
 characters were even more eloquent than the 
 words with which the letter closed. 
 
 'I have lost my boy, and now my husband 
 is gone, and I am a lonely woman. I have 
 many servants, and some friends, but none near 
 to me, none so near and dear as my dead son's 
 wife. My days are not to be many. Come to 
 me, my daughter ; I want you and Lewis's child.' 
 
 ' Must I go?' she asked with white lips. 
 
 ' Do you know her well ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' I only saw her once or twice,' she answered ; 
 'but she has been very good to me.'
 
 240 BI -iCK ROCK 
 
 'She can hardly need you. She has friends. 
 And surely you are needed here,' 
 
 She looked at me eagerly. 
 
 ' Do you think so ? ' she said. 
 
 'Ask any man in the camp Shaw, Nixon, 
 young Winton, Geordie. Ask Craig,' I replied. 
 
 4 Yes, he will tell me,' she said. 
 
 Even as she spoke Craig came up the steps. I 
 passed into my studio and went on with my work, 
 for my days at Black Rock were getting few, and 
 many sketches remained to be filled in. 
 
 Through my open door I saw Mrs. Mavor lay 
 her letters before Mr. Craig, saying, ' I have a call 
 too.' They thought not of me. 
 
 He went through the papers, carefully laid 
 them down without a word while she waited 
 anxiously, almost impatiently, for him to speak. 
 
 ' Well ? ' she asked, using his own words to her ; 
 'should I go?' 
 
 'I do not know/ he replied; 'that is for you 
 to decide you know all the circumstances/ 
 
 The letters tell all.' Her tone carried a feel- 
 ing of disappointment He did not appear to 
 care. 
 
 ' The estates are large ? ' he asked.
 
 THE TWO CALLS 141 
 
 ' Yes, large enough twelve thousand a year.' 
 
 'And has your mother-in-law any one with 
 her?' 
 
 ' She has friends, but, as she says, none near of 
 kin. Her nephew looks after the works iron 
 works, you know he has shares in them.* 
 
 'She is evidently very lonely,' he answered 
 gravely. 
 
 'What shall I do?' she asked, and I knew she 
 was waiting to hear him urge her to stay ; but he 
 did not see, or at least gave no heed. 
 
 'I cannot say,' he repeated quietly. 'There 
 are many things to consider ; the estates ' 
 
 ' The estates seem to trouble you,' she replied, 
 almost fretfully. He looked up in surprise. I 
 wondered at his slowness. 
 
 'Yes, the estates,' he went on, 'and tenants, 
 I suppose your mother-in-law, your little Mar- 
 jorie's future, your own future.' 
 
 'The estates are in capable hands, I should 
 suppose,' she urged, ' and my future depends upon 
 what I choose my work to be.' 
 
 ' But one cannot shift one's responsibilities,' he 
 replied gravely. 'These estates, these tenants, 
 have come to you, and with them come duties.' 
 
 Q
 
 *4 BLACK ROCK 
 
 1 1 do not want them,' she cried. 
 
 'That life has great possibilities of good,' he 
 said kindly. 
 
 ' I had thought that perhaps there was work 
 for me here,' she suggested timidly. 
 
 ' Great work,' he hastened to say. ' You have 
 done great work. But you will do that wherever 
 you go. The only question is where your work lies.' 
 
 1 You think I should go/ she said suddenly and 
 a little bitterly. 
 
 ' I cannot bid you stay,' he answered steadily. 
 
 1 How can I go ? ' she cried, appealing to him. 
 'Must I go?' 
 
 How he could resist that appeal I could not 
 understand. His face was cold and hard, and his 
 voice was almost harsh as he replied 
 
 ' If it is right, you will go you must go/ 
 
 Then she burst forth 
 
 'I cannot go. I shall stay here. My work is 
 here ; my heart is here. How can I go ? You 
 thought it worth your while to stay here and 
 work, why should not I ? ' 
 
 The momentary gleam in his eyes died out, 
 and again he said coldly 
 
 4 This work was clearly mine. I am needed here.'
 
 THE TWO CALLS 143 
 
 'Yes, yes!' she cried, her voice full of pain; 
 'you are needed, but there is no need of 
 me.' 
 
 Stop, stop ! ' he said sharply ; ' you must not 
 say so.' 
 
 ' I will say it, I must say it,' she cried, her voice 
 vibrating with the intensity of her feeling. ' I 
 know you do not need me ; you have your work, 
 your miners, your plans ; you need no one ; you 
 are strong. But,' and her voice rose to a cry, ' I 
 am not strong by myself; you have made me 
 strong. I came here a foolish girl, foolish and 
 selfish and narrow. God sent me grief. Three 
 years ago my heart died. Now I am living again. 
 I am a woman now, no longer a girl. You have 
 done this for me. Your life, your words, yourself 
 you have showed me a better, a higher life, than 
 I had ever known before, and now you send me 
 away.' 
 
 She paused abruptly. 
 
 'Blind, stupid fool !' I said to myself. 
 
 He held himself resolutely in hand, answering 
 carefully, but his voice had lost its coldness and 
 was sweet and kind. 
 
 ' Have I done this for you ? Then surely God
 
 244 BLACK ROCK 
 
 has been good to me. And you have helped me 
 more than any words could tell you.' 
 
 1 Helped ! ' she repeated scornfully. 
 
 'Yes, helped,' he answered, wondering at her 
 scorn. 
 
 'You can do without my help,' she went on. 
 'You make people help you. You will get many 
 to help you ; but I need help, too.' She was 
 standing before him with her hands tightly 
 clasped ; her face was pale, and her eyes deeper 
 than ever. He sat looking up at her in a kind of 
 maze as she poured out her words hot and fast 
 
 ' I am not thinking of you.' His coldness had 
 hurt her deeply. ' I am selfish ; I am thinking of 
 myself. How shall I do? I have grown to 
 depend on you, to look to you. It is nothing to 
 
 you that I go, but to me ' She did not dare 
 
 to finish. 
 
 By this time Craig was standing before her, his 
 face deadly pale. When she came to the end 
 of her words, he said, in a voice low, sweet, and 
 thrilling with emotion 
 
 ' Ah, if you only knew ! Do not make me forget 
 myself. You do not guess what you are doing.' 
 
 ' What am I doing ? What is there to know,
 
 THE TWO CALLS * 4S 
 
 but that you tell me easily to go?' She was 
 struggling with the tears she was too proud to let 
 him see. 
 
 He put his hands resolutely behind him, look- 
 ing at her as if studying her face for the first 
 time. Under his searching look she dropped her 
 eyes, and the warm colour came slowly up into 
 her neck and face ; then, as if with a sudden 
 resolve, she lifted her eyes to his, and looked 
 back at him unflinchingly. 
 
 He started, surprised, drew slowly near, put his 
 hands upon her shoulders, surprise giving place 
 to wild joy. She never moved her eyes; they 
 drew him towards her. He took her face between 
 his hands, smiled into her eyes, kissed her lips. 
 She did not move ; he stood back from her, threw 
 up his head, and laughed aloud. She came to 
 him, put her head upon his breast, and lifting up 
 her face said, ' Kiss me.' He put his arms about 
 her, bent down and kissed her lips again, and 
 then reverently her brow. Then putting her 
 back from him, but still holding both her hands, 
 he cried 
 
 ' No 1 you shall not go. I shall never let you
 
 246 BLACK ROCK 
 
 She gave a little sigh of content, and, smiling 
 up at him, said 
 
 * I can go now ' ; but even as she spoke the flush 
 died from her face, and she shuddered. 
 
 ' Never ! ' he almost shouted ; ' nothing shall 
 take you away. We shall work here together/ 
 
 'Ah, if we could, if we only could,' she said 
 piteously. 
 
 ' Why not? ' he demanded fiercely. 
 
 ' You will send me away. You will say it is 
 right for me to go/ she replied sadly. 
 
 ' Do we not love each other ? ' was his impatient 
 answer. 
 
 1 Ah ! yes, love/ she said ; ' but love is not 
 all/ 
 
 ' No ! ' cried Craig ; ' but love is the best* 
 
 ' Yes ! ' she said sadly ; ' love is the best, and it 
 is for love's sake we will do the best/ 
 
 ' There is no better work than here. Surely 
 this is best/ and he pictured his plans before her. 
 She listened eagerly. 
 
 ' Oh ! if it should be right/ she cried, ' I will do 
 what you say. You are good, you are wise, you 
 shall tell me/ 
 
 She could not have recalled him better. He
 
 THE TWO CALLS 247 
 
 stood silent some moments, then burst out 
 passionately 
 
 ' Why then has love come to us ? We did not 
 seek it Surely love is of God. Does God mock 
 us?' 
 
 He threw himself into his chair, pouring out his 
 words of passionate protestation. She listened, 
 smiling, then came to him and, touching his hair 
 as a mother might her child's, said 
 
 * Oh, I am very happy 1 I was afraid you would 
 not, care, and I could not bear to go that way. 1 
 
 'You shall not go,' he cried aloud, as if in pain. 
 ' Nothing can make that right* 
 
 But she only said, ' You shall tell me to-morrow. 
 You cannot see to-night, but you will see, and you 
 will tell me.' 
 
 He stood up and, holding both her hands, 
 looked long into her eyes, then turned abruptly 
 away and wen . out. 
 
 She stood where he left her for some moments, 
 her face radiant, and her han J(t pressed upon her 
 heart Then she came toward my room. She 
 found me busy with my painting, but as I looked 
 up and met her eyes she flushed slightly, and 
 said
 
 24* BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' I quite forgot you.' 
 
 ' So it appeared to me.' 
 
 You heard?' 
 
 'And saw,' I replied boldly. 'It would have 
 been rude to interrupt, you see.' 
 
 ' Oh, I am so glad and thankful.' 
 
 ' Yes ; it was rather considerate of me/ 
 
 'Oh, I don't mean that,' the flush deepening; 
 ' I am glad you know.' 
 
 ' I have known some time.' 
 
 ' How could you ? I only knew to-day myself.' 
 
 ' I have eyes.' She flushed again. 
 
 'Do you mean that people ' she began 
 
 anxiously. 
 
 4 No ; I am not " people." I have eyes, and my 
 eyes have been opened,' 
 
 ' Opened ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, by love.' 
 
 Then I told her openly how, weeks ago, I 
 struggled with my heart and mastered it, for I 
 saw it was vain to love her, because she loved a 
 better man who loved her in return. She looked 
 at me shyly and said 
 
 ' I am sorry.' 
 
 'Don't worry,' I said cheerfully. 'I didn't
 
 THE TWO CALLS 24, 
 
 
 
 break my heart, you know ; I stopped it in 
 time.' 
 
 ' Oh ! ' she said, slightly disappointed ; then her 
 lips began to twitch, and she went off into a fit of 
 hysterical laughter. 
 
 ' Forgive me,' she said humbly ; ' but you speak 
 as if it had been a fever.' 
 
 'Fever is nothing to it,' I said solemnly. 'It 
 was a near thing.' At which she went off again. 
 I was glad to see her laugh. It gave me time to 
 recover my equilibrium, and it relieved her intense 
 emotional strain. So I rattled on some nonsense 
 about Craig and myself till I saw she was giving 
 no heed, but thinking her own thoughts : and what 
 these were it was not hard to guess. 
 Suddenly she broke in upon my talk 
 ' He will tell me that I must go from him.' 
 * I hope he is no such fool/ I said emphatically 
 and somewhat rudely, I fear ; for I confess I was 
 impatient with the very possibility of separation 
 for these two, to whom love meant so much. 
 Some people take this sort of thing easily and 
 some not so easily ; but love for a woman like 
 this comes once only to a man, and then he 
 carries it with him through the length of his life,
 
 250 BLACK ROCK 
 
 and warms his heart with it in death. And when 
 a man smiles or sneers at such love as this, I pity 
 him, and say no word, for my speech would be in 
 an unknown tongue. So my heart was sore as I 
 sat looking up at this woman who stood before 
 me, overflowing with the joy of her new love, and 
 dully conscious of the coming pain, But I soon 
 found it was vain to urge my opinion that she 
 should remain and share the work and life of the 
 man she loved. She only answered 
 
 ' You will help him all you can, for it will hurt 
 him to have me go.' 
 
 The quiver in her voice took out all the anger 
 from my heart, and before I knew I had pledged 
 myself to do all I could to help him. 
 
 But when I came upon him that night, sitting 
 in the light of his fire, I saw he must be let alone. 
 Some battles we fight side by side, with comrades 
 cheering us and being cheered to victory ; but 
 there are fights we may not share, and these are 
 deadly fights where lives are lost and won. So I 
 could only lay my hand upon his shoulder without 
 a word. He looked up quickly, read my face, 
 and said, with a groan 
 You know ? '
 
 THE TWO CALLS s 5 i 
 
 ' I could not help it. But why groan ? 
 She will think it right to go/ he said 
 despairingly. 
 
 'Then you must think for her; you must 
 bring some common-sense to bear upon the 
 question/ 
 
 ' I cannot see clearly yet,' he said ; ' the light 
 will come.' 
 
 ' May I show you how I see it ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' Go on/ he said. 
 
 For an hour I talked, eloquently, even vehe- 
 mently urging the reason and right of my opinion. 
 She would be doing no more than every woman 
 does, no more than she did before ; her mother- 
 in-law had a comfortable home, all that wealth 
 could procure, good servants, and friends; the 
 estates could be managed without her personal 
 supervision ; after a few years' work here they 
 would go east for little Majorie's education ; why 
 should two lives be broken ? and so I went on. 
 
 He listened carefully, even eagerly. 
 
 ' You make a good case/ he said, with a slight 
 smile. ' I will take time. Perhaps you are right. 
 The light will come. Surely it will come. But,' 
 and here he sprang up and stretched his arms to
 
 2 S 2 BLACK ROCK 
 
 full length above his head, ' I am not sorry ; 
 whatever comes I am not sorry. It is great to 
 have her love, but greater to love her as I do. 
 Thank God ! nothing can take that away. I am 
 willing, glad to suffer for the joy of loving her.' 
 
 Next morning, before I was awake, he was 
 gone, leaving a note for me : 
 
 ' MY DEAR CONNOR, I am due at the Landing. 
 When I see you again I think my way will be 
 clear. Now all is dark. At times I am a coward, 
 and often, as you sometimes kindly inform me, 
 an ass ; but I hope I may never become a mule. 
 
 I am willing to be led, or want to be, at any 
 rate. I must do the best not second best for 
 her, for me. The best only is God's will. What 
 else would you have ? Be good to her these days, 
 dear old fellow. Yours, CRAIG.' 
 
 How often those words have braced me he will 
 never know, but I am a better man for them: 
 ' The best only is God's will. What else would 
 you have ? ' I resolved I would rage and fret no 
 more, and that I would worry Mrs. Mavor with 
 no more argument or expostulation, but, as my 
 friend had asked, ' Be good to her.
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL 
 
 THOSE days when we were waiting Craig's 
 return we spent in the woods or on the 
 mountain sides, or down in the canyon beside 
 the stream that danced down to meet the 
 Black Rock river, I talking and sketching and 
 reading, and she listening and dreaming, with 
 often a happy smile upon her face. But there 
 were moments when a cloud of shuddering fear 
 would sweep the smile away, and then I would 
 talk of Craig till the smile came back again. 
 
 But the woods and the mountains and the 
 river were her best, her wisest, friends during 
 those days. How sweet the ministry of the 
 woods to herl The trees were in their new 
 summer leaves, fresh and full of life. They 
 swayed and rustled above us, flinging their 
 interlacing shadows upon us, and their swaying
 
 2 5 BLACK ROCK 
 
 and their rustling soothed and comforted like 
 the voice and touch of a mother. And the 
 mountains, too, in all the glory of their varying 
 robes of blues and purples, stood calmly, solemnly 
 about us, uplifting our souls into regions of rest. 
 The changing lights and shadows flitted swiftly 
 over their rugged fronts, but left them ever as 
 before in their steadfast majesty. 'God's in His 
 heaven.' What would you have ? And ever the 
 little river sang its cheerful courage, fearing not 
 the great mountains that threatened to bar its 
 passage to the sea. Mrs. Mavor heard the song 
 and her courage rose. 
 
 'We too shall find our way,' she said, and I 
 believed her. 
 
 But through these days I could not make her 
 out, and I found myself studying her as I might 
 a new acquaintance. Years had fallen from her ; 
 she was a girl again, full of young warm life. 
 She was as sweet as before, but there was a 
 soft shyness over her, a half-shamed, half-frank 
 consciousness in her face, a glad light in her 
 eyes that made her all new to me. Her perfect 
 trust in Craig was touching to see. 
 
 1 He will tell me what to do/ she would say,
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL 57 
 
 till I began to realise how impossible it would 
 be for him to betray such trust, and be anything 
 but true to the best. 
 
 So much did I dread Craig's home-coming, 
 that I sent for Graeme and old man Nelson, 
 who was more and more Graeme's trusted 
 counsellor and friend. They were both highly 
 excited by the story I had to tell, for I thought 
 it best to tell them all ; but I was not a little 
 surprised and disgusted that they did not see 
 the matter in my light In vain I protested 
 against the madness of allowing anything to send 
 these two from each other. Graeme summed up 
 the discussion in his own emphatic way, but with 
 an earnestness in his words not usual with him. 
 
 ' Craig will know better than any of us what 
 is right to do, and he will do that, and no man 
 can turn him from it ; and,' he added, ' I should 
 be sorry to try.' 
 
 Then my wrath rose, and I cried 
 
 ' It 's a tremendous shame 1 They love each 
 other. You are talking sentimental humbug 
 and nonsense ! ' 
 
 1 He must do the right/ said Nelson In his 
 deep, quiet voice.
 
 258 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' Right 1 Nonsense ! By what right does he 
 send from him the woman he loves ? ' 
 
 ' " He pleased not Himself," ' quoted Nelson 
 reverently. 
 
 ' Nelson is right,' said Graeme. ' I should not 
 like to see him weaken.' 
 
 ' Look here,' I stormed ; ' I didn't bring you 
 men to back him up in his nonsense. I thought 
 you could keep your heads level.' 
 
 ' Now, Connor,' said Graeme, ' don't rage leave 
 that for the heathen ; it 's bad form, and useless 
 besides. Craig will walk his way where his light 
 falls ; and by all that 's holy, I should hate to see 
 him fail ; for if he weakens like the rest of us my 
 North Star will have dropped from my sky.' 
 
 1 Nice selfish spirit,' I muttered. 
 
 1 Entirely so. I 'm not a saint, but I feel like 
 steering by one when I see him.' 
 
 When after a week had gone, Craig rode up 
 one early morning to his shack door, his face 
 told me that he had fought his fight and had not 
 been beaten. He had ridden all night and was 
 ready to drop with weariness. 
 
 'Connor, old boy,' he said, putting out his 
 hand ; ' I 'm rather played. There was a bad
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL S9 
 
 row at the Landing. I have just closed poor 
 Colley's eyes. It was awful. I must get 
 sleep. Look after Dandy, will you, like a 
 good chap?' 
 
 ' Oh, Dandy be hanged ! ' I said, for I knew it 
 ivas not the fight, nor the watching, nor the long 
 ride that had shaken his iron nerve and given 
 him that face. ' Go in and lie down ; I '11 bring 
 you something.' 
 
 ' Wake me in the afternoon/ he said ; ' she is 
 waiting. Perhaps you will go to her' his lips 
 quivered ' my nerve is rather gone.' Then with 
 a very wan smile he added, ' I am giving you a 
 lot of trouble.' 
 
 ' You go to thunder ! ' I burst out, for my 
 throat was hot and sore with grief for him. 
 
 ' I think I 'd rather go to sleep/ he replied, still 
 smiling. I could not speak, and was glad of the 
 chance of being alone with Dandy. 
 
 When I came in I found him sitting with his 
 head in his arms upon the table fast asleep. I 
 made him tea, forced him to take a warm bath, 
 and sent him to bed, while I went to Mrs. Mavor. 
 I went with a fearful heart, but that was because 
 I had forgotten the kind of woman she was.
 
 a6o BLACK ROCK 
 
 She was standing in the light of the window 
 waiting for me. Her face was pale but steady, 
 there was a proud light in her fathomless eyes, 
 a slight smile parted her lips, and she carried 
 her head like a queen. 
 
 ' Come in,' she said. ' You need not fear to tell 
 me. I saw him ride home. He has not failed, 
 thank God 1 I am proud of him ; I knew he would 
 be true. He loves me ' she drew in her breath 
 sharply, and a faint colour tinged her cheek 
 ' but he knows love is not all ah, love is not all 1 
 Oh ! I am glad and proud I* 
 
 ' Glad ! ' I gasped, amazed. 
 
 ' You would not have him prove faithless ! ' she 
 said with proud defiance. 
 
 ' Oh, it is high sentimental nonsense,' I could 
 not help saying. 
 
 ' You should not say so,' she replied, and her 
 voice rang clear. ' Honour, faith, and duty are 
 sentiments, but they are not nonsense.' 
 
 In spite of my rage I was lost in amazed 
 admiration of the high spirit of the woman who 
 stood up so straight before me. But, as I told 
 how worn and broken he was, she listened with 
 changing colour and swelling bosom, her proud
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL 261 
 
 courage all gone, and only love, anxious and 
 pitying, in her eyes. 
 
 'Shall I go to him?' she asked with timid 
 eagerness and deepening colour. 
 
 ' He is sleeping. He said he would come to 
 you/ I replied. 
 
 ' I shall wait for him/ she said softly, and the 
 tenderness in her tone went straight to my heart, 
 and it seemed to me a man might suffer much to 
 be loved with love such as this. 
 
 In the early afternoon Graeme came to her. 
 She met him with both hands outstretched, say- 
 ing in a low voice 
 
 1 1 am very happy.' 
 
 ' Are you sure ? ' he asked anxiously. 
 
 ' Oh, yes/ she said, but her voice was like a sob; 
 'quite, quite sure.' 
 
 They talked long together till I saw that Craig 
 must soon be coming, and I called Graeme away. 
 He held her hands, looking steadily into her eyes 
 and said 
 
 'You are better even than I thought; I'm 
 going to be a better man.' 
 
 Her eyes filled with tears, but her smile did not 
 fade as she answered
 
 26 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' Yes ! you will be a good man, and God will 
 give you work to do.' 
 
 He bent his head over her hands and stepped 
 back from her as from a queen, but he spoke no 
 word till we came to Craig's door. Then he 
 said with humility that seemed strange in him, 
 1 Connor, that is great, to conquer oneself. It is 
 worth while. I am going to try.' 
 
 I would not have missed his meeting with 
 Craig. Nelson was busy with tea. Craig was 
 writing near the window. He looked up as 
 Graeme came in, and nodded an easy good- 
 evening ; but Graeme strode to him and, putting 
 one hand on his shoulder, held out his other for 
 Craig to take. 
 
 After a moment's surprise, Craig rose to his 
 feet, and, facing him squarely, took the offered 
 hand in both of his and held it fast without a 
 word. Graeme was the first to speak, and his 
 voice was deep with emotion 
 
 ' You are a great man, a good man. I 'd give 
 something to have your grit.' 
 
 Poor Craig stood looking at him, not daring 
 to speak for some moments then he said 
 quietly
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL 363 
 
 ' Not good nor great, but, thank God, not quite 
 a traitor.' 
 
 1 Good man ! ' went on Graeme, patting him 
 on the shoulder. ' Good man ! But it 's tough.' 
 
 Craig sat down quickly, saying, ' Don't do that, 
 old chap ! ' 
 
 I went up with Craig to Mrs. Mayor's door. 
 She did not hear us coming, but stood near the 
 window gazing up at the mountains. She was 
 dressed in some rich soft stuff, and wore at her 
 breast a bunch of wild-flowers. I had never seem 
 her so beautiful. I did not wonder that Craig 
 paused with his foot upon the threshold to look 
 at her. She turned and saw us. With a glad 
 cry, ' Oh ! my darling ; you have come to me,' 
 she came with outstretched arms. I turned and 
 fled, but the cry and the vision were long with me. 
 
 It was decided that night that Mrs. Mavor 
 should go the next week. A miner and his wife 
 were going east, and I too would join the party. 
 
 The camp went into mourning at the news ; 
 but it was understood that any display of grief 
 before Mrs. Mavor was bad form. She was not 
 to be annoyed. 
 
 But when I suggested that she should leave
 
 264 BLACK ROCK 
 
 quietly, and avoid the pain of saying good-bye, 
 she flatly refused 
 
 1 1 must say good-bye to every man. They 
 love me and I love them.' 
 
 It was decided, too, at first, that there should 
 be nothing in the way of a testimonial, but when 
 Craig found out that the men were coming to her 
 with all sorts of extraordinary gifts, he agreed 
 that it would be better that they should unite in 
 one gift. So it was agreed that I should buy 
 a ring for her. And were it not that the con- 
 tributions were strictly limited to one dollar, 
 the purse that Slavin handed her when Shaw 
 read the address at the farewell supper would 
 have been many times filled with the gold that 
 was pressed upon the committee. There were no 
 speeches at the supper, except one by myself in 
 reply on Mrs. Mavor's behalf. She had given me 
 the words to say, and I was thoroughly prepared, 
 else I should not have got through. I began in 
 the usual way : ' Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentle- 
 men, Mrs. Mavor is ' but I got no further, for 
 
 at the mention of her name the men stood on the 
 chairs and yelled until they could yell no more. 
 There were over two hundred and fifty of them, and
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL 965 
 
 the effect was overpowering. But I got through 
 my speech. I remember it well. It began 
 
 'Mrs. Mavor is greatly touched by this mark 
 of your love, and she will wear your ring always 
 with pride.' And it ended with 
 
 ' She has one request to make, that you will be 
 true to the League, and that you stand close 
 about the man who did most to make it She 
 wishes me to say that however far away she may 
 have to go, she is leaving her heart in Black Rock, 
 and she can think of no greater joy than to come 
 back to you again.' 
 
 Then they had 'The Sweet By and By,' but 
 the men would not join in the refrain, unwilling 
 to lose a note of the glorious voice they loved to 
 hear. Before the last verse she beckoned to me. 
 I went to her standing by Craig's side as he 
 played for her. 'Ask them to sing,' she entreated ; 
 ' I cannot bear it' 
 
 * Mrs. Mavor wishes you to sing in the refrain,' 
 I said, and at once the men sat up and cleared 
 their throats. The singing was not good, but at 
 the first sound of the hoarse notes of the man 
 Craig's head went down over the organ, for he 
 was thinking I suppose of the days before them
 
 266 BLACK ROCK 
 
 when they would long in vain for that thrilling 
 voice that soared high over their own hoarse 
 tones. And after the voices died away he kept 
 on playing till, half turning toward him, she sang 
 alone once more the refrain in a voice low and 
 sweet and tender, as if for him alone. And so he 
 took it, for he smiled up at her his old smile full 
 of courage and full of love. 
 
 Then for one whole hour she stood saying 
 good-bye to those rough, gentle -hear ted men 
 whose inspiration to goodness she had been for 
 five years. It was very wonderful and very quiet 
 It was understood that there was to be no 
 nonsense, and Abe had been heard to declare 
 that he would ' throw out any cotton-backed fool 
 who couldn't hold himself down, 1 and further, he 
 had enjoined them to remember that 'her arm 
 wasn't a pump-handle.' 
 
 At last they were all gone, all but her guard of 
 honour Shaw, Vernon Winton, Geordie, Nixon, 
 Abe, Nelson, Craig, and myself. 
 
 This was the real farewell ; for, though in the 
 early light of the next morning two hundred men 
 stood silent about the stage, and then as it moved 
 oat waved their hats and yelled madly, this was
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL s6y 
 
 the last touch they had of her hand. Her place 
 was up on the driver's seat between Abe and Mr. 
 Craig, who held little Marjorie on his knee. The 
 rest of the guard of honour were to follow with 
 Graeme's team. It was Winton's fine sense that 
 kept Graeme from following them close. ' Let 
 her go out alone/ he said, and so we held back 
 and watched her go. 
 
 She stood with her back towards Abe's plung- 
 ing four-horse team, and steadying herself with 
 one hand on Abe's shoulder, gazed down upon 
 as. Her head was bare, her lips parted in a 
 smile, her eyes glowing with their own deep 
 light ; and so, facing us, erect and smiling, she 
 drove away, waving us farewell till Abe swung 
 his team into the canyon road and we saw her no 
 more. A sigh shuddered through the crowd, and, 
 with a sob in his voice, Winton said : ' God help 
 us all.' 
 
 I close my eyes and see it all again. The 
 waving crowd of dark-faced men, the plunging 
 horses, and, high up beside the driver, the 
 swaying, smiling, waving figure, and about all 
 the mountains, framing the picture with their 
 dark sides and white peaks tipped with the gold
 
 2 68 BLACK ROCK 
 
 of the rising sun. It is a picture I love to look 
 upon, albeit it calls up another that I can never 
 see but through tears. 
 
 I look across a strip of ever-widening water, at 
 a group of men upon the wharf, standing with 
 heads uncovered, every man a hero, though not a 
 man of them suspects it, least of all the man who 
 stands in front, strong, resolute, self-conquered. 
 And, gazing long, I think I see him turn again to 
 his place among the men of the mountains, not 
 forgetting, but every day remembering the great 
 love that came to him, and remembering, too, 
 that love is not all. It is then the tears come. 
 
 But for that picture two of us at least are 
 better men to-day.
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME 
 
 THROUGH the long summer the mountains and 
 the pines were with me. And through the 
 winter, too, busy as I was filling in my Black 
 Rock sketches for the railway people who would 
 still persist in ordering them by the dozen, the 
 memory of that stirring life would come over 
 me, and once more I would be among the silent 
 pines and the mighty snow-peaked mountains. 
 And before me would appear the red-shirted 
 shantymen or dark-faced miners, great, free, bold 
 fellows, driving me almost mad with the desire to 
 seize and fix those swiftly changing groups of 
 picturesque figures. At such times I would drop 
 my sketch, and with eager brush seize a group, 
 a face, a figure, and that is how my studio comes 
 to be filled with the men of Black Rock. There 
 they are all about me Graeme and the men 
 
 m
 
 273 BLACK ROCK 
 
 from the woods, Sandy, Baptiste, the Campbells, 
 and in many attitudes and groups old man 
 Nelson ; Craig, too, and his miners, Shaw, 
 Geordie, Nixon, and poor old Billy and the 
 keeper of the League saloon. 
 
 It seemed as if I lived among them, and the 
 illusion was greatly helped by the vivid letters 
 Graeme sent me from time to time. Brief notes 
 came now and then from Craig too, to whom I 
 had sent a faithful account of how I had brought 
 Mrs. Mavor to her ship, and of how I had 
 watched her sail away with none too brave 
 a face, as she held up her hand that bore the 
 miners' ring, and smiled with that deep light 
 in her eyes. Ah ! those eyes have driven me 
 to despair and made me fear that I am no 
 great painter after all, in spite of what my 
 friends tell me who come in to smoke my good 
 cigars and praise my brush. I can get the brow 
 and hair, and mouth and pose, but the eyes ! the 
 eyes elude me and the faces of Mrs. Mavor on 
 my wall, that the men praise and rave over, are 
 not such as I could show ta any of the men 
 from the mountains. 
 
 Graeme's letters tell me chiefly about Craig
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME 173 
 
 and his doings, and about old man Nelson ; 
 while from Craig I hear about Graeme, and how 
 he and Nelson are standing at his back, and doing 
 what they can to fill the gap that never can be 
 filled. The three are much together, I can see, 
 and I am glad for them all, but chiefly for Craig, 
 whose face, grief-stricken but resolute, and often 
 gentle as a woman's, will not leave me nor let me 
 rest in peace. 
 
 The note of thanks he sent me was entirely 
 characteristic. There were no heroics, much less 
 pining or self-pity. It was simple and manly, 
 not ignoring the pain but making much of the 
 joy. And then they had their work to do. That 
 note, so clear, so manly, so nobly sensible, stiffens 
 my back yet at times. 
 
 In the spring came the startling news that 
 Black Rock would soon be no more. The mines 
 were to close down on April i. The company, 
 having allured the confiding public with enticing 
 descriptions of marvellous drifts, veins, assays, 
 and prospects, and having expended vast sums 
 of the public's money in developing the mines 
 till the assurance of their reliability was absolutely 
 final, calmly shut down and vanished. With their
 
 274 BLACK ROCK 
 
 vanishing vanishes Black Rock, not without loss 
 and much deep cursing on the part of the men 
 brought some hundreds of miles to aid the 
 company in its extraordinary and wholly inex- 
 plicable game. 
 
 Personally it grieved me to think that my plan 
 of returning to Black Rock could never be carried 
 out. It was a great compensation, however, that 
 the three men most representative to me of 
 that life were soon to visit me actually in my 
 own home and den. Graeme's letter said that 
 in one month they might be expected to appear. 
 At least he and Nelson were soon to come, and 
 Craig would soon follow. 
 
 On receiving the great news, I at once looked 
 up young Nelson and his sister, and we proceeded 
 to celebrate the joyful prospect with a specially 
 good dinner. I found the greatest delight in 
 picturing the joy and pride of the old man n his 
 children, whom he had not seen for fifteen or 
 sixteen years. The mother had died some five 
 years before, then the farm was sold, and the 
 brother and sister came into the city ; and any 
 father might be proud of them. The son was a 
 well-made youngfellow,handsome enough,thought-
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME 275 
 
 ful, and solid-looking. The girl reminded me of 
 her father. The same resolution was seen in 
 mouth and jaw, and the same passion slumbered 
 in the dark grey eyes. She was not beautiful, 
 but she carried herself well, and one would 
 always look at her twice. It would be worth 
 something to see the meeting between father 
 and daughter. 
 
 But fate, the greatest artist of us all, takes 
 little count of the careful drawing and the bright 
 colouring of our fancy's pictures, but with rude 
 hand deranges all, and with one swift sweep 
 paints out the bright and paints in the dark. 
 And this trick he served me when, one June 
 night, after long and anxious waiting for some 
 word from the west, my door suddenly opened 
 and Graeme walked in upon me like a spectre, 
 grey and voiceless. My shout of welcome was 
 choked back by the look in his face, and I could 
 only gaze at him and wait for his word. He 
 gripped my hand, tried to speak, but failed to 
 make words come. 
 
 ' Sit down, old man,' I said, pushing him into 
 my chair, ' and take your time.' 
 
 H obeyed, looking up at me with burning,
 
 276 BLACK ROCK 
 
 sleepless eyes. My heart was sore for his misery, 
 and I said : ' Don't mind, old chap ; it can't 
 be so awfully bad. You 're here safe and sound 
 at any rate,' and so I went on to give him 
 time. But he shuddered and looked round and 
 groaned. 
 
 ' Now look here, Graeme, let 's have it When 
 did you land here? Where is Nelson? Why 
 didn't you bring him up?' 
 
 ' He is at the station in his coffin,' he answered 
 slowly. 
 
 ' In his coffin?' I echoed, my beautiful pictures 
 all vanishing. ' How was it?' 
 
 ' Through my cursed folly,' he groaned bitterly. 
 
 'What happened?' I asked. But ignoring my 
 question, he said : ' I must see his children. I 
 have not slept for four nights. I hardly know 
 what I am doing ; but I can't rest till I see his 
 children. I promised him. Get them for me.' 
 
 ' To-morrow will do. Go to sleep now, and we 
 shall arrange everything to-morrow,' I urged. 
 
 ' No !' he said fiercely ; 'to-night now !' 
 
 In half an hour they were listening, pale and 
 grief-stricken, to the story of their father's 
 death.
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME 277 
 
 Poor Graeme was relentless in his self-con- 
 demnation as he told how, through his ' cursed 
 folly,' old Nelson was killed. The three, Craig, 
 Graeme, and Nelson, had come as far as Victoria 
 together. There they left Craig, and came on to 
 San Francisco. In an evil hour Graeme met a 
 companion of other and evil days, and it was not 
 long till the old fever came upon him. 
 
 In vain Nelson warned and pleaded. The re- 
 action from the monotony and poverty of camp 
 life to the excitement and luxury of the San 
 Francisco gaming palaces swung Graeme quite 
 off his feet, and all that Nelson could do was to 
 follow from place to place and keep watch. 
 
 'And there he would sit/ said Graeme in a 
 hard, bitter voice, 'waiting and watching often 
 till the grey morning light, while my madness 
 held me fast to the table. One night/ here he 
 paused a moment, put his face in his hands 
 and shuddered ; but quickly he was master of 
 himself again, and went on in the same hard 
 voice ' One night my partner and I were playing 
 two men who had done us up before. I knew they 
 were cheating, but could not detect them. Game 
 after game they won, till I was furious at my
 
 278 BLACK ROCK 
 
 stupidity in not being able to catch them 
 Happening to glance at Nelson in the corner, I 
 caught a meaning look, and looking again, he 
 threw me a signal. I knew at once what the 
 fraud was, and next game charged the fellow 
 with it He gave me the lie ; I struck his mouth, 
 but before I could draw my gun, his partner had 
 me by the arms. What followed I hardly know. 
 While I was struggling to get free, I saw him 
 reach for his weapon ; but, as he drew it, Nelson 
 sprang across the table, and bore him down. 
 When the row was over, three men lay on the 
 floor. One was Nelson ; he took the shot meant 
 for me.' 
 
 Again the story paused. 
 
 1 And the man that shot him ?' 
 
 I started at the intense fierceness in the voice, 
 and, looking upon the girl, saw her eyes blazing 
 with a terrible light 
 
 ' He is dead,' answered Graeme indifferently. 
 
 'You killed him?' she asked eagerly. 
 
 Graeme looked at her curiously, and answered 
 slowly 
 
 ' I did not mean to. He came at me. I struck 
 him harder than I knew, He never moved.'
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME 279 
 
 She drew a sigh of satisfaction, and waited. 
 
 'I got him to a private ward, had the best 
 doctor in the city, and sent for Craig to Victoria. 
 For three days we thought he would live he was 
 keen to get home ; but by the time Craig came 
 we had given up hope. Oh, but I was thankful to 
 see Craig come in, and the joy in the old man's 
 eyes was beautiful to see. There was no pain at 
 last, and no fear. He would not allow me to 
 reproach myself, saying over and over, "You 
 would have done the same for me " as I would, 
 fast enough " and it is better me than you. I am 
 old and done ; you will do much good yet for the 
 boys." And he kept looking at me till I could 
 only promise to do my best. 
 
 ' But I am glad I told him how much good he 
 had done me during the last year, for he seemed 
 to think that too good to be true. And when 
 Craig told him how he had helped the boys in 
 the camp, and how Sandy and Baptiste and th 
 Campbells would always be better men for his 
 life among them, the old man's face actually 
 shone, as if light were coming through. And 
 with surprise and joy he kept on saying, " Do 
 you think so? Do you think so? Perhaps so,
 
 2 8o BLACK ROCK 
 
 perhaps so." At the last he talked of Christmas 
 night at the camp. You were there, you remember. 
 Craig had been holding a service, and something 
 happened, I don't know what, but they both 
 knew.' 
 
 ' I know,' I said, and I saw again the picture of 
 the old man under the pine, upon his knees in 
 the snow, with his face turned up to the stars. 
 
 'Whatever it was, it was in his mind at the 
 very last, and I can never forget his face as he 
 turned it to Craig. One hears of such things : I 
 had often, but had never put much faith in them ; 
 but joy, rapture, triumph, these are what were in 
 his face, as he said, his breath coming short, 
 "You said He wouldn't fail me you were 
 right not once not once He stuck to me I'm 
 glad he told me thank God for you you 
 
 showed me I'll see Him and tell Him ' 
 
 And Craig, kneeling beside him so steady I 
 was behaving like a fool smiled down through 
 his streaming tears into the dim eyes so brightly, 
 till they could see no more. Thank him for that! 
 He helped the old man through, and he helped 
 me too, that night, thank God!' And Graeme's 
 voke, hard till now, broke in a sob.
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME a8i 
 
 He had forgotten us, and was back beside his 
 passing friend, and all his self-control could not 
 keep back the flowing tears. 
 
 ' It was his life for mine,' he said huskily. 
 
 The brother and sister were quietly weeping, 
 but spoke no word, though I knew Graeme was 
 waiting for them. 
 
 I took up the word, and told of what I had 
 known of Nelson, and his influence upon the men 
 of Black Rock. They listened eagerly enough, 
 but still without speaking. There seemed nothing 
 to say, till I suggested to Graeme that he must 
 get some rest. Then the girl turned to him, and, 
 impulsively putting out her hand, said 
 
 ' Oh, it is all so sad ; but how can we ever thank 
 you?' 
 
 'Thank me!' gasped Graeme. 'Can you for- 
 give me ? I brought him to his death.' 
 
 1 No, no ! You must not say so,' she answered 
 hurriedly. ' You would have done the same for 
 him.' 
 
 ' God knows I would,' said Graeme earnestly ; 
 'and God bless you for your words ! ' And I was 
 thankful to see the tears start in his dry, burning 
 eyes.
 
 zSa BLACK ROCK 
 
 We carried him to the old home in the country, 
 that he might lie by the side of the wife he had 
 loved and wronged. A few friends met us at the 
 wayside station, and followed in sad procession 
 along the country road, that wound past farms 
 and through woods, and at last up to the ascent 
 where the quaint, old wooden church, black with 
 the rains and snows of many years, stood among 
 its silent graves. The little graveyard sloped 
 gently towards the setting sun, and from it one 
 could see, far on every side, the fields of grain 
 and meadowland that wandered off over softly 
 undulating hills to meet the maple woods at the 
 horizon, dark, green, and cool. Here and there 
 white farmhouses, with great barns standing near, 
 looked out from clustering orchards. 
 
 Up the grass-grown walk, and through the 
 crowding mounds, over which waves, uncut, the 
 long, tangling grass, we bear our friend, and let 
 him gently down into the kindly bosom of mother 
 earth, dark, moist, and warm. The sound of a 
 distant cowbell mingles with the voice of the 
 last prayer ; the clods drop heavily with heart- 
 startling echo ; the mound is heaped and shaped
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME *8j 
 
 by kindly friends, sharing with one another the 
 task ; the long rough sods are laid over and 
 patted into place ; the old minister takes fare- 
 well in a few words of gentle sympathy; the 
 brother and sister, with lingering looks at the 
 two graves side by side, the old and the new, 
 step into the farmer's carriage, and drive away ; 
 the sexton locks the gate and goes home, and we 
 are left outside alone. 
 
 Then we went back and stood by Nelson's 
 grave. 
 
 After a long silence Graeme spoke. 
 
 4 Connor, he did not grudge his life to me and 
 I think* and here the words came slowly 'I 
 understand now what that means, " Who loved me 
 and gave Himself for me.'" 
 
 Then taking off his hat, he said reverently, 
 1 By God's help Nelson's life shall not end, 
 but shall go on. Yes, old man 1* looking down 
 upon the grave, ' I 'm with you ' ; and lifting 
 up his face to the calm sky, 'God help me to 
 be true.' 
 
 Then he turned and walked briskly away, as 
 one might who had pressing business, or as
 
 BLACK ROCK 
 
 soldiers march from a comrade's grave to a merry 
 tune, not that they have forgotten, but they have 
 still to fight 
 
 And this was the way old man Nelson came 
 home.
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 
 
 THERE was more left in that grave than old man 
 Nelson's dead body. It seemed to me that 
 Graeme left part, at least, of his old self there, 
 with his dead friend and comrade, in the quiet 
 country churchyard. I waited long for the old 
 careless, reckless spirit to appear, but he was 
 never the same again. The change was unmis 
 takable, but hard to define. He seemed to have 
 resolved his life into a definite purpose. He was 
 hardly so comfortable a fellow to be with; he 
 made me feel even more lazy and useless than 
 was my wont ; but I respected him more, and 
 liked him none the less. As a lion he was not 
 a success. He would not roar. This was dis- 
 appointing to me, and to his friends and mine, 
 who had been waiting his return with eager 
 expectation of tales of thrilling and bloodthirsty 
 adventure.
 
 288 BLACK ROCK 
 
 His first days were spent in making right, or as 
 nearly right as he could, the break that drove him 
 to the west His old firm (and I have had more 
 respect for the humanity of lawyers ever since) 
 behaved really well. They proved the restoration 
 of their confidence in his integrity and ability by 
 offering him a place in the firm, which, however, 
 he would not accept Then, when he felt clean, as 
 he said, he posted off home, taking me with him. 
 During the railway journey of four hours he hardly 
 spoke ; but when we had left the town behind, and 
 had fairly got upon the country road that led 
 toward the home ten miles away, his speech 
 came to him in a great flow. His spirits ran 
 over. He was like a boy returning from his first 
 college term. His very face wore the boy's open, 
 innocent, earnest look that used to attract men to 
 him in his first college year. His delight in the 
 fields and woods, in the sweet country air and the 
 sunlight, was without bound. How often had we 
 driven this road together in the old days 1 
 
 Every turn was familiar. The swamp where the 
 tamaracks stood straight and slim out of their 
 beds of moss ; the brule, as we used to call it, 
 where the pine-stumps, huge and blackened, were
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 389 
 
 half-hidden by the new growth of poplars and 
 soft maples ; the big hill, where we used to get 
 out and walk when the roads were bad ; the 
 orchards, where the harvest apples were best and 
 most accessible all had their memories. 
 
 It was one of those perfect afternoons that so 
 often come in the early Canadian summer, before 
 Nature grows weary with the heat. The white 
 gravel road was trimmed on either side with turf 
 of living green, close cropped by the sheep that 
 wandered in flocks along its whole length. Be- 
 yond the picturesque snake-fences stretched tht 
 fields of springing grain, of varying shades of 
 green, with here and there a dark brown patch, 
 marking a turnip field or summer fallow, and far 
 back were the woods of maple and beech and elm, 
 with here and there the tufted top of a mighty 
 pine, the lonely representative of a vanished race, 
 standing clear above the humbler trees. 
 
 As we drove through the big swamp, where the 
 yawning, haunted gully plunges down to its 
 gloomy depths, Graeme reminded me of that 
 night when our horse saw something in that same 
 gully, and refused to go past ; and I felt again, 
 though it was broad daylight, something of the
 
 290 BLACK ROCK. 
 
 grue that shivered down my back, as I saw in the 
 moonlight the gleam of a white thing far through 
 the pine trunks. 
 
 As we came nearer home the houses became 
 familiar. Every house had its tale: we had eaten 
 or slept in most of them ; we had sampled apples, 
 and cherries, and plums from their orchards, 
 openly as guests, or secretly as marauders, under 
 cover of night the more delightful way, I fear. 
 Ah ! happy days, with these innocent crimes and 
 fleeting remorses, how bravely we faced them, 
 and how gaily we lived them, and how yearningly 
 we look back at them now ! The sun was just 
 dipping into the tree-tops of the distant woods 
 behind as we came to the top of the last hill 
 that overlooked the valley, in which lay the 
 village of Riverdale. Wooded hills stood about 
 it on three sides, and, where the hills faded out, 
 there lay the mill-pond sleeping and smiling in 
 the sun. Through the village ran the white 
 road, up past the old frame church, and on to the 
 white manse standing among the trees. That was 
 Graeme's home, and mine too, for I had never 
 known another worthy of the name. We held up 
 our team to look down over the valley, with its
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 191 
 
 rampart of wooded hills, its shining pond, and its 
 nestling village, and on past to the church and 
 the white manse, hiding among the trees. The 
 beauty, the peace, the warm, loving homeliness of 
 the scene came about our hearts, but, being men, 
 we could find no words. 
 
 * Let 's go/ cried Graeme, and down the hill we 
 tore and rocked and swayed to the amazement 
 of the steady team, whose education from the 
 earliest years had impressed upon their minds 
 the criminality of attempting to do anything but 
 walk carefully down a hill, at least for two-thirds 
 of the way. Through the village, in a cloud of 
 dust, we swept, catching a glimpse of a well-known 
 face here and there, and flinging a salutation as 
 we passed, leaving the owner of the face rooted 
 to his place in astonishment at the sight of 
 Graeme whirling on in his old-time, well-known 
 reckless manner. Only old Dune. M'Leod was 
 equal to the moment, for as Graeme called out, 
 1 Hello, Dune. !' the old man lifted up his hands, 
 and called back in an awed voice: 'Bless my 
 soul! is it yourself? 1 
 
 'Stands his whisky well, poor old chap!' was 
 Graeme's comment.
 
 9 3 BLACK ROCK 
 
 As we neared the church he pulled up his team, 
 and we went quietly past the sleepers there, then 
 again on the full run down the gentle slope, over 
 the little brook, and up to the gate. He had 
 hardly got his team pulled up before, flinging me 
 the lines, he was out over the wheel, for coming 
 down the walk, with her hands lifted high, was a 
 dainty little lady, with the face of an angel. In a 
 moment Graeme had her in his arms. I heard 
 the faint cry, ' My boy, my boy,' and got down 
 on the other side to attend to my off horse, sur- 
 prised to find my hands trembling and my eyes 
 full of tears. Back upon the steps stood an old 
 gentleman, with white hair and flowing beard, 
 handsome, straight, and stately Graeme's father, 
 waiting his turn. 
 
 'Welcome home, my lad,' was his greeting, 
 as he kissed his son, and the tremor of his 
 voice, and the sight of the two men kissing 
 each other, like women, sent me again to my 
 horses' heads. 
 
 ' There 's Connor, mother 1' shouted out Graeme, 
 and the dainty little lady, in her black silk and 
 white lace, came out to me quickly, with oat- 
 stretched hands.
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 193 
 
 'You, too, are welcome home,' she said, and 
 kissed me. 
 
 I stood with my hat off, saying something about 
 being glad to come, but wishing that I could get 
 away before I should make quite a fool of myself. 
 For as I looked down upon that beautiful face, 
 pale, except for a faint flush upon each faded 
 cheek, and read the story of pain endured and 
 conquered, and as I thought of all the long years 
 of waiting and of vain hoping, I found my throat 
 dry and sore, and the words would not come. 
 But her quick sense needed no words, and she 
 came to my help. 
 
 'You will find Jack at the stable,' she said 
 smiling ; ' he ought to have been here.' 
 
 The stable ! Why had I not thought of that 
 before ? Thankfully now my words came 
 
 ' Yes, certainly, I '11 find him, Mrs. Graeme. I 
 suppose he's as much of a scapegrace as ever,' 
 and off I went to look up Graeme's young 
 brother, who had given every promise in the old 
 days of developing into as stirring a rascal as one 
 could desire ; but who, as I found out later, had 
 not lived these years in his mother's home for 
 nothing.
 
 294 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' Oh, Jack 's a good boy,' she answered, smiling 
 again, as she turned toward the other two, now 
 waiting for her upon the walk. 
 
 The week that followed was a happy one for us 
 all; but for the mother it was full to the brim 
 with joy. Her sweet face was full of content, 
 and in her eyes rested a great peace. Our days 
 were spent driving about among the hills, or 
 strolling through the maple woods, or down into 
 the tamarack swamp, where the pitcher plants and 
 the swamp lilies and the marigold waved above 
 the deep moss. In the evenings we sat under the 
 trees on the lawn till the stars came out and the 
 night dews drove us in. Like two lovers, Graeme 
 and his mother would wander off together, leaving 
 Jack and me to each other. Jack was reading for 
 divinity, and was really a fine, manly fellow, with 
 all his brother's turn for rugby, and I took to 
 him amazingly ; but after the day was over we 
 would gather about the supper table, and the talk 
 would be of all things under heaven art, foot- 
 ball, theology. The mother would lead in all 
 How quick she was, how bright her fancy, how 
 subtle her intellect, and through all a gentle grace, 
 very winning and beautiful to see 1
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 295 
 
 Do what I would, Graeme would talk little of 
 the mountains and his life there. 
 
 ' My lion will not roar, Mrs. Graeme/ I com- 
 plained ; ' he simply will not.' 
 
 ' You should twist his tail,' said Jack. 
 
 ' That seems to be the difficulty, Jack/ said his 
 mother, ' to get hold of his tale/ 
 
 ' Oh, mother/ groaned Jack ; 'you never did such 
 a thing before ! How could you ? Is it this baleful 
 Western influence ?' 
 
 ' I shall reform, Jack/ she replied brightly. 
 
 1 But, seriously, Graeme/ I remonstrated, ' you 
 ought to tell your people of your life that free, 
 glorious life in the mountains.' 
 
 ' Free 1 Glorious ! To some men, perhaps !' 
 said Graeme, and then fell into silence. 
 
 But I saw Graeme as a new man the night he 
 talked theology with his father. The old minister 
 was a splendid Calvinist, of heroic type, and as he 
 discoursed of God's sovereignty and election, his 
 face glowed and his voice rang out 
 
 Graeme listened intently, now and then putting 
 in a question, as one would a keen knife-thrust 
 into a foe. But the old man knew his ground, 
 and moved easily among his ideas, demolishing
 
 296 BLACK ROCK 
 
 the enemy as he appeared, with jaunty grace. In 
 the full flow of his triumphant argument, Graeme 
 turned to him with sudden seriousness. 
 
 ' Look here, father ! I was born a Calvinist, and 
 I can't see how any one with a level head can 
 hold anything else, than that the Almighty has 
 some idea as to how He wants to run His 
 universe, and He means to carry out His idea, 
 and is carrying it out ; but what would you do in 
 a case like this ? ' Then he told him the story of 
 poor Billy Breen, his fight and his defeat 
 
 ' Would you preach election to that chap ? ' 
 
 The mother's eyes were shining with tears. 
 
 The old gentleman blew his nose like a trum- 
 pet, and then said gravely 
 
 ' No, my boy , you don't feed babes with meat. 
 But what came to him ? ' 
 
 Then Graeme asked me to finish the tale. 
 After I had finished the story of Billy's final 
 triumph and of Craig's part in it, they sat long 
 silent, till the minister, clearing his throat hard 
 and blowing his nose more like a trumpet than 
 ever, said with great emphasis 
 
 ' Thank God for such a man in such a place I 
 I wish there were more of us like him.'
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 897 
 
 'I should like to see you out there, sir,' said 
 Graeme admiringly; 'you'd get them, but you 
 wouldn't have time for election.' 
 
 1 Yes, yes ! ' said his father warmly ; ' I should 
 love to have a chance just to preach election to 
 these poor lads. Would I were twenty years 
 younger ! ' 
 
 1 It is worth a man's life,' said Graeme earnestly. 
 His younger brother turned his face eagerly 
 toward the mother. For answer she slipped her 
 hand into his and said softly, while her eyes 
 shone like stars 
 
 1 Some day, Jack, perhaps ! God knows.' But 
 Jack only looked steadily at her, smiling a little 
 and patting her hand. 
 
 ' You 'd shine there, mother/ said Graeme, 
 smiling upon her ; ' you 'd better come with me.' 
 She started, and said faintly 
 
 ' With you ? ' It was the first hint he had given 
 of his purpose. ' You are going back ? ' 
 
 ' What ! as a missionary ? ' said Jack. 
 
 1 Not to preach, Jack ; I 'm not orthodox 
 enough,' looking at his father and shaking his 
 head ; ' but to build railroads and lend a hand to 
 some poor chap, if I can.'
 
 298 BLACK ROCK 
 
 1 Could you not find work nearer home, my 
 boy ? ' asked the father ; ' there is plenty of both 
 kinds near us here, surely.' 
 
 ' Lots of work, but not mine, I fear/ answered 
 Graeme, keeping his eyes away from his mother's 
 face. ' A man must do his own work.' 
 
 His voice was quiet and resolute, and glancing 
 at the beautiful face at the end of the table, I 
 saw in the pale lips and yearning eyes that the 
 mother was offering up her firstborn, that 
 ancient sacrifice. But not all the agony of sacri- 
 fice could wring from her entreaty or complaint 
 in the hearing of her sons. That was for other 
 ears and for the silent hours of the night. And 
 next morning when she came down to meet us 
 her face was wan and weary, but it wore the 
 peace of victory and a glory not of earth. Her 
 greeting was full of dignity, sweet and gentle ; 
 but when she came to Graeme she lingered over 
 him and kissed him twice. And that was all 
 that any of us ever saw of that sore fight 
 
 At the end of the week I took leave of them, 
 and last of all of the mother. 
 
 She hesitated just a moment, then suddenly 
 put her hands upon my shoulders and kissed
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH gg 
 
 me, saying softly, ' You are his friend ; you will 
 sometimes come to me ? ' 
 
 ' Gladly, if I may/ I hastened to answer, for 
 the sweet, brave face was too much to bear ; and, 
 till she left us for that world of which she was a 
 part, I kept my word, to my own great and last- 
 ing good. When Graeme met me in the city at 
 the end of the summer, he brought me her love, 
 and then burst forth 
 
 1 Connor, do you know, I have just discovered 
 my mother I I have never known her till this 
 summer.' 
 
 ' More fool you,' I answered, for often had I, 
 who had never known a mother, envied him 
 his. 
 
 'Yes, that is true/ he answered slowly; 'but 
 you cannot see until you have eyes.' 
 
 Before he set out again for the west I gave 
 him a supper, asking the men who had been with 
 us in the old 'Varsity days. I was doubtful as 
 to the wisdom of this, and was persuaded only 
 by Graeme's eager assent to my proposal. 
 
 ' Certainly, let 's have them/ he said ; ' I shall 
 be awfully glad to see them ; great stuff they 
 were.'
 
 300 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' But, I don't know, Graeme ; you see well- 
 hang it 1 you know -you 're different, you 
 know.' 
 
 He looked at me curiously. 
 
 ' I hope I can still stand a good supper, and if 
 the boys can't stand me, why, I can't help it 
 I '11 do anything but roar, and don't you begin 
 to work off your menagerie act now, you hear 
 me!' 
 
 ' Well, it is rather hard lines that when I have 
 been talking up my lion for a year, and then 
 finally secure him, that he will not roar.' 
 
 ' Serve you right,' he replied, quite heartlessly ; 
 ' but I '11 tell you what I '11 do, I '11 feed ! Don't 
 you worry,' he adds soothingly ; ' the supper will 
 
 go.' 
 
 And go it did. The supper was of the best ; 
 the wines first-class. I had asked Graeme about 
 the wines. 
 
 ' Do as you like, old man,' was his answer ; ' it 's 
 your supper, but,' he added, ' are the men all 
 straight ? ' 
 
 I ran them over in my mind. 
 
 1 Yes ; I think so.' 
 
 ' If not, don't you help them down ; and any-
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 301 
 
 way, you can't be too careful. But don't mind 
 me ; I am quit of the whole business from this 
 out.' So I ventured wines, for the last time, as it 
 happened. 
 
 We were a quaint combination. Old ' Beetles,' 
 whose nickname was prophetic of his future fame 
 as a bugman, as the fellows irreverently said ; 
 ' Stumpy ' Smith, a demon bowler ; Polly Lind- 
 say, slow as ever and as sure as when he held the 
 half-back line with Graeme, and used to make 
 my heart stand still with terror at his cool de- 
 liberation. But he was never known to fumble 
 nor to funk, and somehow he always got us out 
 safe enough. Then there was Rattray 'Rat' 
 for short who, from a swell, had developed into 
 a cynic with a sneer, awfully clever and a good 
 enough fellow at heart. Little 'Wig' Martin, 
 the sharpest quarter ever seen, and big Barney 
 Lundy, centre scrimmage, whose terrific roar and 
 rush had often struck terror to the enemy's 
 heart, and who was Graeme's slave. Such was 
 the party. 
 
 As the supper went on my fears began to 
 vanish, for if Graeme did not ' roar,' he did the 
 next best thing ate and talked quite up to his
 
 BLACK ROCK 
 
 old form. Now we played our matches over 
 again, bitterly lamenting the ' if s ' that had lost 
 us the championships, and wildly approving the 
 tackles that had saved, and the runs that had 
 made the 'Varsity crowd go mad with delight 
 and had won for us. And as their names came 
 up in talk, we learned how life had gone with 
 those who had been our comrades of ten years 
 ago. Some, success had lifted to high places ; 
 some, failure had left upon the rocks, and a few 
 lay in their graves. 
 
 But as the evening wore on, I began to wish 
 that I had left out the wines, for the men began 
 to drop an occasional oath, though I had let 
 them know during the summer that Graeme was 
 not the man he had been. But Graeme smoked 
 and talked and heeded not, till Rattray swore 
 by that name most sacred of all ever borne 
 by man. Then Graeme opened upon him in a 
 cool, slow way 
 
 ' What an awful fool a man is, to damn things 
 as you do, Rat Things are not damned. It is 
 men who are ; and that is too bad to be talked 
 much about But when a man flings out of his 
 foul mouth the name of Jesus Christ ' here he
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 303 
 
 lowered his voice ' it 's a shame it 's more, it 's 
 a crime.' 
 
 There was dead silence, then Rattray replied 
 
 ' I suppose you 're right enough, it is bad form ; 
 but crime is rather strong, I think.' 
 
 1 Not if you consider who it is/ said Graeme 
 with emphasis. 
 
 ' Oh, come now/ broke in Beetles. ' Religion 
 is all right, is a good thing, and I believe a neces- 
 sary thing for the race, but no one takes seriously 
 any longer the Christ myth.' 
 
 'What about your mother, Beetles?' put in 
 Wig Martin. 
 
 Beetles consigned him to the pit and was 
 silent, for his father was an Episcopal clergyman, 
 and his mother a saintly woman. 
 
 ' I fooled with that for some time, Beetles, but 
 it won't do. You can't build a religion that will 
 take the devil out of a man on a myth. That 
 won't do the trick. I don't want to argue about 
 it, but I am quite convinced the myth theory is 
 not reasonable, and besides, it won't work.' 
 
 1 Will the other work ? ' asked Rattray, with a 
 sneer. 
 
 1 Sure ! ' said Graeme ; ' I 've seen it*
 
 304 BLACK ROCK 
 
 ' Where ? ' challenged Rattray. ' I haven't seen 
 much of it* 
 
 ' Yes, you have, Rattray, you know you have/ 
 said Wig again. But Rattray ignored him. 
 
 ' I '11 tell you, boys,' said Graeme. ' I want 
 you to know, anyway, why I believe what I do.' 
 
 Then he told them the story of old man Nelson, 
 from the old coast days, before I knew him, to 
 the end He told the story well. The stern 
 fight and the victory of the life, and the self- 
 sacrifice and the pathos of the death appealed 
 to these" men, who loved fight and could under- 
 stand sacrifice. 
 
 'That's why I believe in Jesus Christ, and 
 that 's why I think it a crime to fling His name 
 about ! ' 
 
 1 1 wish to Heaven I could say that/ said 
 Beetles. 
 
 ' Keep wishing hard enough and it will come 
 to you/ said Graeme. 
 
 ' Look here, old chap/ said Rattray ; ' you 're 
 quite right about this ; I 'm willing to own up. 
 Wig is correct I know a few, at least, of that 
 stamp, but most of those who go in for that sort 
 of thing are not much account'
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 305 
 
 1 For ten years, Rattray,' said Graeme in a 
 downright, matter-of-fact way, ' you and I have 
 tried this sort of thing ' tapping a bottle ' and 
 we got out of it all there is to be got, paid well 
 for it, too, and faugh ! you know it 's not good 
 enough, and the more you go in for it, the more 
 you curse yourself. So I have quit this and I am 
 going in for the other.' 
 
 1 What ! going in for preaching ? ' 
 
 ' Not much railroading money in it and 
 lending a hand to fellows on the rocks.' 
 
 ' I say, don't you want a centre forward ? ' said 
 big Barney in his deep voice. 
 
 I Every man must play his game in his place, 
 old chap. I 'd like to see you tackle it, though, 
 right well,' said Graeme earnestly. And so he 
 did, in the after years, and good tackling it was. 
 But that is another story. 
 
 ' But, I say, Graeme,' persisted Beetles, ' about 
 this business, do you mean to say you go the 
 whole thing Jonah, you know, and the rst 
 of it?' 
 
 Graeme hesitated, then said 
 
 I 1 haven't much of a creed, Beetles ; don't 
 really know how much I believe. But,' by this
 
 306 BLACK ROCK 
 
 time he was standing, ' I do know that good is 
 good, and bad is bad, and good and bad are not 
 the same. And I know a man 's a fool to follow 
 the one, and a wise man to follow the other, and/ 
 lowering his voice, ' I believe God is at the back 
 of a man who wants to get done with bad. I Ve 
 tried all that folly,' sweeping his hand over the 
 glasses and bottles, ' and all that goes with it, 
 and I Ve done with it* 
 
 ' I '11 go you that far/ roared big Barney, follow- 
 ing his old captain as of yore. 
 
 4 Good man/ said Graeme, striking hands with 
 him. 
 
 ' Put me down/ said little Wig cheerfully. 
 
 Then I took up the word, for there rose before 
 me the scene in the League saloon, and I saw 
 the beautiful face with the deep shining eyes, and 
 I was speaking for her again. I told them of 
 Craig and his fight for these men's lives. I told 
 them, too, of how I had been too indolent to 
 begin. ' But/ I said, ' I am going this far from 
 to-night/ and I swept the bottles into the cham- 
 pagne tub. 
 
 ' I say/ said Polly Lindsay, coming up in his 
 old style, slow but sure, ' let 's all go in, say for
 
 GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 307 
 
 five years.' And so we did. We didn't sign 
 anything, but every man shook hands with 
 Graeme. 
 
 And as I told Craig about this a year later, 
 when he was on his way back from his Old Land 
 trip to join Graeme in the mountains, he threw 
 up his head in the old way and said, ' It was well 
 done. It must have been worth seeing. Old 
 man Nelson's work is not done yet. Tell me 
 again/ and he made me go over the whole scene 
 with all the details put in. 
 
 But when I told Mrs. Mavor, after two years 
 had gone, she only said, ' Old things are passed 
 away, all things are become new ' ; but the light 
 glowed in her eyes till I could not see their 
 colour. But all that, too, is another story.
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 
 
 A MAN with a conscience is often provoking, 
 sometimes impossible. Persuasion is lost upon 
 him. He will not get angry, and he looks at one 
 with such a far-away expression in his face that 
 in striving to persuade him one feels earthly and 
 even fiendish. At least this was my experience 
 with Craig. He spent a week with me just before 
 he sailed for the Old Land, for the purpose, as he 
 said, of getting some of the coal dust and other 
 grime out of him. 
 
 He made me angry the last night of his stay, 
 and all the more that he remained quite sweetly 
 unmoved. It was a strategic mistake of mine to 
 tell him how Nelson came home to us, and how 
 Graeme stood up before the 'Varsity chaps at 
 my supper and made his confession and confused 
 Rattray's easy-stepping profanity, and started 
 
 his own five-year league. For all this stirred in 
 
 Hi
 
 3 i* BLACK ROCK 
 
 Craig the hero, and he was ready for all sorts of 
 heroic nonsense, as I called it. We talked of 
 everything but the one thing, and about that we 
 said not a word till, bending low to poke my fire 
 and to hide my face, I plunged 
 
 1 You will see her, of course ? ' 
 
 He made no pretence of not understanding 
 but answered 
 
 4 Of course.' 
 
 'There's really no sense in her staying over 
 there,' I suggested. 
 
 ' And yet she is a wise woman,' he said, as if 
 carefully considering the question. 
 
 1 Heaps of landlords never see their tenants, 
 and they are none the worse.' 
 
 1 The landlords ? ' 
 
 ' No, the tenants/ 
 
 ' Probably, having such landlords/ 
 
 1 And as for the old lady, there must be some 
 one in the connection to whom it would be a 
 Godsend to care for her.' 
 
 ' Now, Connor,' he said quietly, ' don't We 
 have gone over all there is to be said. Nothing 
 new has come. Don't turn it all up again/ 
 
 Then I played the heathen and raged, as
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 313 
 
 Graeme would have said, till Craig smiled a little 
 wearily and said 
 
 ' You exhaust yourself, old chap. Have a pipe, 
 do ' ; and after a pause he added in his own way, 
 1 What would you have ? The path lies straight 
 from my feet Should I quit it ? I could not so 
 disappoint you and all of them.' 
 
 And I knew he was thinking of Graeme and 
 the lads in the mountains he had taught to be 
 true men. It did not help my rage, but it 
 checked my speech ; so I smoked in silence till 
 he was moved to say 
 
 'And after all, you know, old chap, there are 
 great compensations for all losses ; but for tht 
 loss of a good conscience towards God, what can 
 make up ? ' 
 
 But, all the same, I hoped for some better 
 result from his visit to Britain. It seemed to me 
 that something must turn up to change such an 
 unbearable situation. 
 
 The year passed, however, and when I looked 
 into Craig's face again I knew that nothing had 
 been changed, and that he had come back to take 
 up again his life alone, more resolutely hopeful 
 than ever.
 
 314 BLACK ROCK 
 
 But the year had left its mark upon him too. 
 He was a broader and deeper man. He had 
 been living and thinking with men of larger ideas 
 and richer culture, and he was far too quick in 
 sympathy with life to remain untouched by his 
 surroundings. He was more tolerant of opinions 
 other than his own, but more unrelenting in his 
 fidelity to conscience and more impatient of half- 
 heartedness and self-indulgence. He was full of 
 reverence for the great scholars and the great 
 leaders of men he had come to know. 
 
 ' Great, noble fellows they are, and extraordin- 
 arily modest,' he said ' that is, the really great are 
 modest. There are plenty of the other sort, 
 neither great nor modest And the books to be 
 read! I am quite hopeless about my reading. 
 It gave me a queer sensation to shake hands with 
 a man who had written a great book. To hear 
 him make commonplace remarks, to witness a 
 faltering in knowledge one expects these men 
 to know everything and to experience respectful 
 kindness at his hands ! ' 
 
 ' What of the younger men ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' Bright, keen, generous fellows. In things 
 theoretical, omniscient; but in things practical,
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 315 
 
 quite helpless. They toss about great ideas as 
 the miners lumps of coal. They can call them 
 by their book names easily enough, but I often 
 wondered whether they could put them into 
 English. Some of them I coveted for the moun- 
 tains. Men with clear heads and big hearts, and 
 built after Sandy M'Naughton's model. It does 
 seem a sinful waste of God's good human stuff 
 to see these fellows potter away their lives among 
 theories living and dead, and end up by producing 
 a book ! They are all either making or going 
 to make a book. A good thing we haven't to 
 read them. But here and there among them is 
 some quiet chap who will make a book that 
 men will tumble over each other to read.' 
 
 Then we paused and looked at each other. 
 
 1 Well ? ' I said. He understood me. 
 
 1 Yes ! ' he answered slowly, ' doing great work. 
 Every one worships her just as we do, and she is 
 making them all do something worth while, as 
 she used to make us/ 
 
 He spoke cheerfully and readily as if he were 
 repeating a lesson well learned, but he could not 
 humbug me. I felt the heartache in the cheerful 
 tone.
 
 316 BLACK ROCK 
 
 1 Tell me about her,' I said, for I knew that if he 
 would talk it would do him good. And talk he 
 did, often forgetting me, till, as I listened, I found 
 myself looking again into the fathomless eyes, 
 and hearing again the heart-searching voice. I 
 saw her go in and out of the little red-tiled 
 cottages and down the narrow back lanes of the 
 village ; I heard her voice in a sweet, low song by 
 the bed of a dying child, or pouring forth floods 
 of music in the great new hall of the factory town 
 near by. But I could not see, though he tried to 
 show me, the stately gracious lady receiving the 
 country folk in her home. He did not linger 
 over that scene, but went back again to the gate- 
 cottage where she had taken him one day to sec 
 Billy Breen's mother. 
 
 ' I found the old woman knew all about me,' 
 he said, simply enough ; ' but there were many 
 things about Billy she had never heard, and I 
 was glad to put her right on some points, though 
 Mrs. Mavor would not hear it.' 
 
 He sat silent for a little, looking into the coals ; 
 then went on in a soft, quiet voice 
 
 1 It brought back the mountains and thr. old 
 days to hear again Billy's tones in his mother's
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 317 
 
 voice, and to see her sitting there in the very 
 dress she wore the night of the League, you 
 remember some soft stuff with black lace about 
 it and to hear her sing as she did for Billy 
 ah ! ah 1 ' His voice unexpectedly broke, but in 
 a moment he was master of himself and begged 
 me to forgive his weakness. I am afraid I said 
 words that should not be said a thing I never 
 do, except when suddenly and utterly upset 
 
 ' I am getting selfish and weak,' he said ; ' I 
 must get to work. I am glad to get to work. 
 There is much to do, and it is worth while, if 
 only to keep one from getting useless and lazy.' 
 
 ' Useless and lazy 1 ' I said to myself, thinking 
 of my life beside his, and trying to get command 
 of my voice, so as not to make quite a fool 
 of myself. And for many a day those words 
 goaded me to work and to the exercise of some 
 mild self-denial. But more than all else, after 
 Craig had gone back to the mountains, Graeme's 
 letters from the railway construction camp stirred 
 one to do unpleasant duty long postponed, and 
 rendered uncomfortable my hours of most luxuri- 
 ous ease. Many of the old gang were with him, 
 both of lumbermen and miners, and Craig was their
 
 3 i8 BLACK ROCK 
 
 minister. And the letters told of how he laboured 
 by day and by night along the line of construc- 
 tion, carrying his tent and kit with him, preaching 
 straight sermons, watching by sick men, writing 
 their letters, and winning their hearts, making 
 strong their lives, and helping them to die well 
 when their hour came. One day these letters 
 proved too much for me, and I packed away 
 my paints and brushes, and made my vow unto 
 the Lord that I would be 'useless and lazy' no 
 longer, but would do something with myself. In 
 consequence, I found myself within three weeks 
 walking the London hospitals, finishing my course, 
 that I might join that band of men who were 
 doing something with life, or, if throwing it away, 
 were not losing it for nothing. I had finished 
 being a fool, I hoped, at least a fool of the useless 
 and luxurious kind. The letter that came from 
 Graeme, in reply to my request for a position on 
 his staff, was characteristic of the man, both new 
 and old, full of gayest humour and of most 
 earnest welcome to the work. 
 
 Mrs. Mavor's reply was like herself 
 1 1 knew you would not long be content with 
 the making of pictures, which the world does not
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 319 
 
 really need, and would join your friends in the 
 dear West, making lives that the world needs so 
 sorely.' 
 
 But her last words touched me strangely 
 
 1 But be sure to be thankful every day for your 
 privilege. ... It will be good to think of you 
 all, with the glorious mountains about you, and 
 Christ's own work in your hands. . . . Ah ! how 
 we would like to choose our work, and the place 
 in which to do it ! ' 
 
 The longing did not appear in the words, but I 
 needed no words to tell me how deep and how 
 constant it was. And I take some credit to my- 
 self, that in my reply I gave her no bidding to 
 join our band, but rather praised the work she 
 was doing in her place, telling her how I had 
 heard of it from Craig. 
 
 The summer found me religiously doing Paris 
 and Vienna, gaining a more perfect acquaintance 
 with the extent and variety of my own ignorance, 
 and so fully occupied in this interesting and 
 wholesome occupation that I fell out with all my 
 correspondents, with the result of weeks of silence 
 between us. 
 
 Two letters among the heap waiting on my
 
 320 BLACK ROCK 
 
 table in London made my heart beat quick, but 
 with how different feelings: one from Graeme 
 telling me that Craig had been very ill, and that 
 he was to take him home as soon as he could be 
 moved. Mrs. Mavor's letter told me of the death 
 of the old lady, who had been her care for the 
 past two years, and of her intention to spend 
 some months in her old home in Edinburgh. 
 And this letter it is that accounts for my pre- 
 sence in a miserable, dingy, dirty little hall 
 running off a close in the historic Cowgate, 
 redolent of the glories of the splendid past, and 
 of the various odours of the evil-smelling present 
 I was there to hear Mrs. Mavor sing to the crowd 
 of gamins that thronged the closes in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and that had been gathered into a club 
 by ' a fine leddie frae the West End,' for the love 
 of Christ and His lost. This was an ' At Home ' 
 night, and the mothers and fathers, sisters and 
 brothers, of all ages and sizes were present. Of 
 all the sad faces I had ever seen, those mothers 
 carried the saddest and most woe- stricken. 
 1 Heaven pity us ! ' I found myself saying ; ' is this 
 the beautiful, the cultured, the heaven-exalted 
 city of Edinburgh ? Will it not, for this, be cast
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 321 
 
 down into hell some day, if it repent not of 
 its closes and their dens of defilement? Oh I 
 the utter weariness, the dazed hopelessness of 
 the ghastly faces ! Do not the kindly, gentle 
 church -going folk of the crescents and the 
 gardens see them in their dreams, or are their 
 dreams too heavenly for these ghastly faces to 
 appear?' 
 
 I cannot recall the programme of the evening, 
 but in my memory-gallery is a vivid picture of 
 that face, sweet, sad, beautiful, alight with the deep 
 glow of her eyes, as she stood and sang to lhat 
 dingy crowd. As I sat upon the window-ledge 
 listening to the voice with its flowing song, my 
 thoughts were far away, and I was looking down 
 once more upon the eager, coal-grimed faces in 
 the rude little church in Black Rock. I was 
 brought back to find myself swallowing hard 
 by an audible whisper from a wee lassie to her 
 mother 
 
 1 Mither ! See till yon man. He's greetinV 
 
 When I came to myself she was singing ' The 
 
 Land o' the Leal,' the Scotch 'Jerusalem the 
 
 Golden,' immortal, perfect It needed experience 
 
 of the hunger-haunted Cowgate closes, chill with 
 
 X
 
 3 aa BLACK ROCK 
 
 the black mist of an eastern haar, to feel the full 
 bliss of the vision in the words 
 
 ' There 's nae sorrow there, Jean, 
 There's neither cauld nor care, Jean, 
 The day is aye fair in 
 The Land o* the Leal.' 
 
 A land of fair, warm days, untouched by sorrow 
 and care, would be heaven indeed to the dwellers 
 otflbe Cowgate. 
 
 The rest of that evening is hazy enough to me 
 now, till I find myself opposite Mrs. Mavor at 
 her fire, reading Graeme's letter ; then all is vivid 
 again. 
 
 I could not keep the truth from her. I knew 
 it would be folly to try. So I read straight on 
 till I came to the words 
 
 ' He has had mountain fever, whatever that 
 may be, and he will not pull up again. If I can, 
 I shall take him home to my mother ' when she 
 suddenly stretched out her hand, saying, ' Oh, let 
 me read ! ' and I gave her the letter. In a minute 
 she had read it, and began almost breathlessly 
 
 1 Listen ! my life is much changed. My mother- 
 in-law is gone ; she needs me no longer. My 
 solicitor tells me, too, that owing to unfortunate
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 323 
 
 investments there is need of money, so great 
 need, that it is possible that either the estates 
 or the works must go. My cousin has his all in 
 the works iron works, you know. It would be 
 wrong to have him suffer. I shall give up the 
 estates that is best.' She paused. 
 
 ' And come with me,' I cried. 
 
 1 When do you sail ? ' 
 
 1 Next week,' I answered eagerly. 
 
 She looked at me a few moments, and into 
 her eyes there came a light soft and tender, as 
 she said 
 
 ' I shall go with you.' 
 
 And so she did ; and no old Roman in all the 
 glory of a Triumph carried a prouder heart than 
 I, as I bore her and her little one from the train 
 to Graeme's carriage, crying 
 
 ' I 've got her.' 
 
 But his was the better sense, for he stood wav- 
 ing his hat and shouting 
 
 1 He 's all right,' at which Mrs. Mavor grew 
 white ; but when she shook hands with him, the 
 red was in her cheek again. 
 
 1 It was the cable did it,' went on Graeme. 
 'Connor's a great doctor! His first case will
 
 324 BLACK ROCK 
 
 make him famous. Good prescription after 
 mountain fever try a cablegram I ' And the red 
 grew deeper in the beautiful face beside us. 
 
 Never did the country look so lovely. The 
 woods were in their gayest autumn dress ; the 
 brown fields were bathed in a purple haze ; the 
 air was sweet and fresh with a suspicion of the 
 coming frosts of winter. But in spite of all the 
 road seemed long, and it was as if hours had 
 gone before our eyes fell upon the white manse 
 standing among the golden leaves. 
 
 * Let them go,' I cried, as Graeme paused to 
 take in the view,"and down the sloping dusty road 
 we flew on the dead run. 
 
 'Reminds one a little of Abe's curves/ said 
 Graeme, as we drew up at the gate. But I 
 answered him not, for I was introducing to each 
 other the two best women in the world. As I 
 was about to rush into the house, Graeme seized 
 me by the collar, saying 
 
 ' Hold on, Connor ! you forget your placa^ 
 you 're next.' 
 
 'Why, certainly,' I cried, thankfully enough; 
 ' what an ass I am ! ' 
 
 1 Quite true,' said Graeme solemnly.
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 315 
 
 'Where is he?' I asked. 
 
 'At this present moment?' he asked, in a 
 shocked voice. ' Why, Connor, you surprise me.' 
 
 'Oh, I see!' 
 
 1 Yes,' he went on gravely ; ' you may trust my 
 mother to be discreetly attending to her domestic 
 duties ; she is a great woman, my mother/ 
 
 I had no doubt of it, for at that moment she 
 came out to us with little Marjorie in her arms. 
 
 'You have shown Mrs. Mavor to her room, 
 mother, I hope/ said Graeme ; but she only 
 smiled and said 
 
 ' Run away with your horses, you silly boy/ at 
 which he solemnly shook his head. ' Ah, mother, 
 you are deep who would have thought it of 
 you?' 
 
 That evening the manse overflowed with joy, 
 and the days that followed were like dreams set 
 to sweet music. 
 
 But for sheer wild delight, nothing in my 
 memory can quite come up to the demonstration 
 organised by Graeme, with assistance from Nixon, 
 Shaw, Sandy, Abe, Geordie, and Baptiste, in honour 
 of the arrival in camp of Mr. and Mrs. Craig. And, 
 in my opinion, it added something to the occa-
 
 326 BLACK ROCK 
 
 sion, that after all the cheers for Mr. and Mrs. 
 Craig had died away, and after all the hats had 
 come down, Baptiste, who had never taken his 
 eyes from that radiant face, should suddenly have 
 swept the crowd into a perfect storm of cheers by 
 excitedly seizing his tuque, and calling out in his 
 shrill voice 
 
 ' By gar I Tree cheer for Mrs. Mavor.' 
 And for many a day the men of Black Rock 
 would easily fall into the old and well-loved 
 name ; but up and down the line of construction, 
 in all the camps beyond the Great Divide, the 
 new name became as dear as the old had ever 
 been in Black Rock. 
 
 Those old wild days are long since gone into 
 the dim distance of the past. They will not 
 come again, for we have fallen into quiet times ; 
 but often in my quietest hours I feel my heart 
 pause in its beat to hear again that strong, clear 
 voice, like the sound of a trumpet, bidding us to 
 be men ; and I think of them all Graeme, their 
 chief, Sandy, Baptiste, Geordie, Abe, the Camp- 
 bells, Nixon, Shaw, all stronger, better for their 
 knowing of him, and then I think of Billy asleep 
 under the pines, and of old man Nelson with the
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN 317 
 
 long grass waving over him in the quiet church- 
 yard, and all my nonsense leaves me, and I bless 
 the Lord for all His benefits, but chiefly for the 
 day I met the missionary of Black Rock in the 
 lumber-camp among the Selkirks. 
 
 THE END
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 LD-URL 
 
 JUN 3 1965 
 
 7-4 
 
 m L9-Series 444