describes a tremendous visitation—a feast—a surprise—and an attempt at murder.
i must beg the reader now to leap with me into the middle of winter.
it is new year’s day. that festive season of the year is not less marked and honoured in the great nor’-west than it is in civilised lands, though there are comparatively few to honour it, and their resources are somewhat meagre. these facts do not however, diminish the hearty zeal of the few—perchance they tend rather to increase it.
be that as it may, i now convey the reader to an ice-bound forest. deep snow has buried the frozen ground. masses of snow weigh down the branches of the leafless trees; and evergreens, which are not leafless, are literally overwhelmed, almost obliterated, by the universal covering. but the scene is by no means dismal. a blue sky overhead and a bright sun and calm frosty air render it pre-eminently cheerful. the ground is undulating, and among these undulations you may see two men and a couple of sledges slowly making their way along.
the sledge in rear is the ordinary provision-sled used by winter travellers in that land; it is hauled by an indian. the one in front is styled a cariole. it resembles a slipper-bath in form, is covered with yellow parchment, gaily painted, and drawn by four fine wolf-like dogs. the rider in that cariole is so whelmed in furs as to be absolutely invisible. the man who beats the track has a straight, stalwart frame, and from what of his countenance is left exposed by his fur cap and whiskers, one may judge that he is a white man.
slowly and silently they plod along through the deep snow—the sleigh-bells on the dog’s harness tinkling pleasantly. ere long they come out upon a lake, where, the snow being beaten pretty hard, they proceed rapidly—the dogs trotting, and the leader, having changed to the rear, holding on to the cariole-line to restrain them.
towards the afternoon the travellers draw towards the end of the lake, and then a spirit of mischief seems to enter into the wolf-like dogs, for, on turning round a point which reveals a wide reach of hard snow stretching away towards a distant group of buildings more than half buried in drift, they make a sudden bound, overturn the stalwart white man, jerk the tail-line from his grasp, and career away joyously over the ice, causing their bells to send up an exceeding merry and melodious peal.
from certain incomprehensible growls that escape the stalwart white man as he picks himself up, it might be conjectured that he had taken to the chipewyan tongue; perhaps a scotsman might have been led by them to recall the regions that lie north of the grampians.
lumley and i were sitting in the hall of fort wichikagan, awaiting the advent of dinner, when the sound of the sleigh-bells just referred to broke upon our ears. we bounded from our seats as if galvanised, seized our caps and rushed out.
“a cariole!” shouted lumley.
“run away!” said i.
as i spoke, the figure of a man was seen rushing round the point in pursuit.
“macnab!” cried lumley, with blazing eyes, “i’d know his figure at twenty miles off. i say, max, the runaway cariole must certainly contain the sister—the carroty-haired jessie! hurrah! we must stop it, my boy, else the dogs will run slap into the fort, and dash the fair six-footer against one o’ the houses. look out, man!”
but lumley was wrong. either the dogs had run as much as they desired, or the decided manner in which we faced them caused them to swerve aside, and stop when they came close to us. the swerve had the effect of overturning the cariole gently, and emptying its contents at our feet, and out from the mass of wraps and furs there arose—not a red-headed six-footer, but a young and sprightly girl, with clear dark complexion, a neat, rounded little figure, and a pair of magnificent black eyes, which, at the moment, were opened to their utmost with an expression of intense amazement.
lumley gazed at this apparition open-mouthed, with a look of blank surprise. i believe that my own visage must also have worn some remarkable expression, for suddenly the girl’s gorgeous eyes half closed, and she burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
“well, this is a surprise!” exclaimed lumley, on recovering some of his usual self-possession.
“so it would seem,” replied the apparition, still laughing, “for it has robbed you of common politeness. why don’t you introduce yourself and welcome me? no doubt you are my brother’s friend, mr lumley!”
she drew a very small white hand from a very large leather mitten, and held it out.
“forgive me, miss macnab—for of course you can be no other,” said lumley, advancing promptly and grasping the hand, “but your—your—sudden, and i may almost say magical, appearance has so taken me by surprise, that—that—”
“yes, yes, i understand, mr lumley—that you find it difficult to recover yourself,—why, your friend mr maxby has not yet recovered,” said the fair jessie, turning and holding out her hand to me.
she was right. i had not recovered, but stood there open-mouthed and eyed, bereft of speech, until the necessity for action was thrust upon me. my apologies were, however, cut short by the coming up of her brother, who, while yet a long way off, began to shout in his stentorian tones:—
“hallo! lumley, my boy, how are ye? here we are at last. a happy new year, max. glad to see you once more—all alive and hearty? eh? more than i expected to find you, jess, after such a run with these rascally dogs—absolute wolves! but it might have been worse. give us a shake o’ your fists, my boys, on this happy new year’s day.”
by this time our hearty friend was beside us, shaking us both vigorously by the hands, wishing us all manner of good luck, and compliments of the season, and otherwise letting off the steam of his exuberant feelings.
“you’ve introduced yourselves, i see,” he continued; “come, lumley, give your arm to jessie, and show us the way to the fort.”
“if miss macnab,” began lumley, advancing, but his speech was here cut short.
“miss macnab!” echoed the explosive peter in a sarcastic shout, “call her jessie, man! who ever heard of a ‘miss macnab’ in the backwoods? when men take to living in the wilderness, it’s time to cast off all the humbuggin’ politenesses o’ civilised life.”
“pardon me, macnab,” returned my friend, with more than his usual urbanity, “i differ from you there.”
“oh, ay, i daresay ye do,” interrupted the other. “it’s been said of scotsmen that ‘they can aye objec’,’ and i think it’s equally true of englishmen that they can always differ!”
“men who live in the wilderness,” continued lumley, merely answering the interruption with a smile, “ought to be unusually particular about keeping up all the politenesses of civilised life, instead of dropping them, and ought to be inexpressibly thankful when a soft and civilising influence, like miss macnab, condescends to visit them with a ray of sunshine from the old country.”
“bravo, lumley,” cried macnab, with a boisterous laugh, “that speech was worthy of an irishman! call her what you like, my good fellow, so long as you never call her too late for meals; but come along now and let’s have something to eat, for i’m famishing.”
by this time the indian with the sled had joined us, so we all went off to the fort in a state of boisterous joy, of which those unfortunates who have never been banished from their fellows for months—or for years—can form no conception. as dinner was opportunely smoking on the table when we entered the hall, our visitor’s hilarity was, if possible, increased. moreover, we had company that new year’s day, for a knife and fork had been laid in the hall for every man at the fort. you see, lumley was a strict disciplinarian, and, therefore, could afford at special times to relax without loss of dignity and with a great increase of good-will on the part of all under him. at all other times we and the men—excepting our guide—messed apart; but on christmas and new year’s days all distinctions were laid aside, discipline was relaxed, and we acted on the principle of that brotherhood which is based upon the assumption that all men have the same objects in life and the same hopes after death. that morning we had all played football on the ice together, had slidden and tumbled down the snow-slope together, and now we were about to mess together in the hall. still further, our company was to be increased, and our festive board to be graced, by the presence of waboose and her mother. little had we imagined, when all this was planned, that we were to have the addition of our old friend macnab, and that glorious beam from the sun of civilisation, his sister jessie!
i will, however, make but brief reference to this festive occasion, and proceed to tell of an event which created an unexpected sensation in our little community, and might have closed our new year’s day amusements with a terrible tragedy.
after dinner we circled round the blazing fire and enjoyed ourselves listening to macnab, who had a happy facility in giving a graphic account of his sledge journey from the mountain fort—his recently built trading-post—to fort wichikagan, and i observed particularly that the presence of a lady among us had a most wonderful and irresistible influence in softening the tones and the manners of all.
as the evening advanced tea was introduced—we had nothing stronger, and did not, indeed, feel any desire for fire-water. under the inspiriting influence of this beverage, several of our men were induced to tell stories, which were more or less humorous.
during the meal—at which lumley insisted that “miss macnab” should preside, to the immense disgust of salamander—i observed that the dark-haired white girl and the fair-haired indian, drew very closely together. it appeared to me that they had fallen in love with each other at first sight, a fact which afforded me lively satisfaction, though i had no very clear perception as to why it should do so.
songs naturally followed the cheering cup, and at this point lumley became unusually bold.
“i wonder,” he said, with a peculiar air of modesty which somewhat puzzled me, “if i may venture to ask miss macnab for a song.”
“ha! ha!” shouted her brother, before she could reply, “you may venture to ask, my boy, but you’ll find it difficult to draw a song out of jessie. why, she never could sing a note!”
“i’ve a good mind to sing now, peter,” said the girl with a laugh, “just to prove that you are a false man.”
“no, no, jessie, spare me,” returned the highlander, “but get out your accordion, and—”
“accordion!” almost shouted lumley, “do you play the accordion? have you really got one here?”
it is but right to say, in justification of lumley’s enthusiasm, that music of any kind was so seldom heard in those wilds, that the mere prospect of hearing good music excited us, for of course our natural thought was that a girl like jessie macnab could not perform anything but good music.
as she rose to go for the instrument to salamander’s room—which had been made over to her—a growling gaelic exclamation made me aware of the fact that the faces of donald bane and james dougall were beaming with hope, mingled with admiration of their countrywoman. she had naturally paid these men a good deal of attention, and, in addition to her other good qualities, spoke their native tongue fluently. as dougall afterwards said, “she hes the gaelic!”
on returning to the hall with the once familiar and well-remembered instrument, i believe every man there felt a tendency to worship her. but who shall describe the effect produced when she began to play, with the utmost facility and with deep feeling, one of the most beautiful of the plaintive scottish melodies? bane and dougall shaded their rugged faces with their rugged hands to hide the tears that could not be restrained. lumley, whose mind, although untouched by associations, was peculiarly susceptible to sweet sounds, sat entranced. so did big otter, who could only glare; because instrument, tune, and performer, were alike new and magical to him. even salamander forgot his jealousy and almost collapsed with wonder. as for dumont, coppet, and the others—they clasped their hands, opened their eyes and mouths, and simply drank it in.
there was no applause when the air ceased, but a deep sigh from every one seemed to be the indication of a return to ordinary consciousness. waboose and her mother did not sigh, however. they sat still and gazed in silent wonder. jessie macnab, with a slight blush at the unexpected effect, ran her fingers lightly over the keys of her instrument, and then suddenly began to play a highland reel with tremendous vigour!
if an electric shock had traversed the marrow or our backbones, the result could not have been more surprising.
“wow! tougall, man!” exclaimed bane, starting up and flinging away his chair.
dougall said nothing, but he uttered a celtic yell suggestive of war and all its horrors to big otter, and, starting up, began the highland fling opposite to his friend in the most violent manner. as i was not a bad dancer of scots’ reels myself, and the music had caused me also to boil over, i started up likewise and faced macnab, who, being equally affected, stood up to me in a moment, and away we went, hammer and tongs, with stamp and whoop and snap of finger—oh! the scene is indescribable. indeed, i may say that to an ordinary civilised man who never saw it, the scene is inconceivable, so—we will pass on.
while these stirring events were taking place inside the hall, a black-faced, red-painted savage was flattening his ugly nose against a pane of glass outside one of the windows. it was attick, whom our chief had convicted of stealing about the time of our arrival. that unpleasant savage had never forgiven lumley, and, being exceedingly vindictive, had resolved to murder him! with this end in view, he had been prowling about the place for several days, having arrived with a band of his tribe who had assembled at christmas-time to enjoy some of the good cheer which they understood to be going at that season among the pale-faces.
on new year’s night unknown to his comrades—for it was his intention to do the deed secretly, and leave the imputation upon all—he watched his opportunity, and thought he had found it when, after the dance was over and the guests had retired, he saw lumley seated by the fire in conversation with the newly-arrived pale-face girl. macnab and i had gone with the men to their house for some purpose—i forget what—so that the two were left alone.
attick might easily have opened the door and shot his victim, but the report, he knew, would have roused every one; besides, his absence at the moment and his dirty gun would have betrayed him to his comrades; so, being a strong man, he preferred the scalping-knife, with the use of which he was of course familiar.
now, it chanced that there hung a small looking-glass over the hall fireplace. in that glass lumley could see not only himself, but the door and windows of the room behind him, as he sat chatting with jessie macnab. happening to glance into the glass, he observed the flattened nose of attick on the window-pane with the glaring eyes above it. a tête-à-tête with the fair jessie was too pleasant, however, to be interrupted by such a trifle; he therefore continued the conversation, though he kept a sharp look-out behind him. presently he saw the door open—open so gently that it gave forth no sound. immediately after, a blackened and savage head appeared with a diabolical expression on the countenance. it was followed slowly by a hand in which a gleaming knife was clutched. lumley now fully understood what was meditated, for he recognised attick through his war-paint. he did not move, however, for he felt that if he sprang up too soon the savage could easily leap back through the doorway and escape into the dark woods. he therefore laid strong constraint on himself and waited.
miss macnab’s back was turned to the savage, but not having the advantage of the glass, she could not see him, and continued her pleasant prattle. like a dark, noiseless shadow, the indian advanced, and raised his knife.
“then you like this wilderness life?” asked jessie, at that moment.
“yes, i confess, miss macnab, that it has its charms as well as its disagreeables—the utter want of society being the worst of the latter.”
“i should have thought,” said the girl, looking up, “that you—but—but—why do you gaze and frown so fiercely at that—”
she was promptly answered, for lumley sprang up at the moment with panther-like agility, wheeled round, seized the uplifted arm, and, with a wrench so violent as to break it, he hurled the savage to the ground.
jessie macnab sprang up in consternation, but did not give way to that supposed female-in-alarm necessity—a scream. at the same moment macnab and i entered.
“hallo! lumley. what’s all this?” cried macnab. “nobody hurt, i hope?”
“i fear the indian is hurt somewhat,” said our chief, looking down at his enemy, who lay stunned upon the floor. “go, max, assemble our men and fetch all the indians.”
in a few minutes all were assembled in the hall, when lumley, in a low, stern voice, related what had occurred, appealing to jessie to corroborate what he said.
“now,” he added in conclusion, turning to the indians, “i have no quarrel with you. there lies your comrade. he has forfeited his life to me, but i forgive him. take him away.”
lumley said no more, as, in solemn surprise and silence, the indians lifted up their comrade and bore him out of the hall; but he took good care to make no reference whatever to the looking-glass, and i verily believe that to this day it is believed by the red-men of that region that lumley has eyes in the back of his head.
