Helen stood on deck, wrapped in seal coat and gauntlets, looking at the
snow-covered town as the _North King_ sailed up the harbor. Many vessels
were already anchored. The bright winter sun showed to advantage the
picturesque little city. The dazzling whiteness of the roofs, the varied
contours of the houses, the glittering pinnacles of church spires, the
little groves of naked trees, backed by the ever-green verdure of pines
and cedars, all helped to make an interesting picture.
Most of the buildings were of wood, many being simple log cabins; while
others were block-houses of more pretentious mien, whose timbers had
been hewn into shape in the forest. Here and there a more stately
dwelling, built of granite boulders or lime-stone rock, mingled with the
rest.
What added much to the weird picturesqueness of the outlook, as Helen
gazed upon it, was the glitter of icicles from many of the roofs, as the
dazzling sunlight fell upon them. Then there was the far-reaching canopy
of snow; while over beyond the houses were hills and craggy rocks and
clumps of trees; and back of all, as distant as eye could see, the
wide, interminable forest.
"How strange!" she exclaimed, drawing closer to her husband. "I never
thought it would be like this."
"But is it not beautiful?" he asked.
"Yes; still it looks like a little town at the very end of the world,"
said Helen, with a shiver. "Pretty indeed, but where are the Indians? Is
that the Citadel?"
"Yes, that is the Citadel. Although I see no Indians, there are the
red-coats. Look! yonder is a company at drill."
"Ah! that is more natural! It makes me like it better. How wonderful it
all is!"
Suddenly a violent gust of wind carried the snow in drifts from the
roofs of the houses. A grey cloud swept over the sun, and for a brief
space the glittering whiteness of the prospect was over. Gradually the
ship neared the wharf, and protected by heavy sticks of timber hanging
over its side, it ground against the big bulwarks, and with huge ropes
was made fast to the dock.
Colonel Mason and his staff were waiting for them; and no sooner had the
gangway been laid than they came on board to welcome the officers of the
big warship, as well as the men of the 100th Regiment. Those were not
days of Atlantic cables and telegraphic dispatches; and although word
had been received by the last ship from Liverpool that Sir George Head
was coming out with a small body of troops, the exact date of departure
was not announced.
"Right welcome!" exclaimed Colonel Mason, as he shook Sir George and
Captain Osborne by the hand. "Long expected, but here at last."
"Rough voyage! Six weeks of it. Glad it's over," was Sir George's
laconic reply, as with equal heartiness he returned the greeting.
While introductions were made, Helen and Harold stood in the background,
but the quick eye of Colonel Mason soon noted them.
"Lieutenant and Mrs. Manning," said Sir George at last. "You did not
know, Colonel, that we had a lady on board."
"An unusual but a pleasant surprise," was the answer, as the officer
bowed over her hand. "I extend to Mrs. Manning a most cordial welcome."
Helen looked very handsome that morning. The keen air had given a rosy
tint to her cheek. Her eyes sparkled with interest and her
closely-fitting fur coat set off her beauty to advantage.
"We never expect ladies to cross the Atlantic in midwinter, particularly
on a man-of-war," Colonel Mason continued, turning to her again. "It
takes rare courage, madam; and it is delightful to find it possessed by
so young and charming a lady."
Colonel Mason was a courteous and gallant officer of the old school.
"Thank you, sir," she replied, her face flushing with pleasure. "It was
a little trying to be the only one on board; but the officers were very
good to me. I hope I did not tax their patience too much."
"She was all right," exclaimed Sir George with a laugh, "until after the
battle--just a little skirmish, you know--when she wanted to install
herself as head nurse to the fellows who were wounded--"
"Oh, Colonel!" she exclaimed, in amazement, turning suddenly upon him.
"How could you?"
"Why! isn't it true?" he replied merrily. "But, Mason, what news of the
war?" he continued with more gravity. "Word over the sea travels so
confoundedly slow; I have heard nothing for two months."
"I am glad to say the report is encouraging," was the reply. "General
Hampton's forces were defeated and driven back by De Salaberry at
Chateauguay Junction; and with Hampton and Wilkinson have gone back to
winter on the American side of the line. Then, too, only a few weeks
ago, Colonel McClure, the terror of the Twenty-Mile Creek, was driven
back by Colonel Murray's regulars, assisted by loyal Indians. Up to
September the invaders were right in the country all along the line;
but, thank God, we can hold our own now, and intend to keep it."
"That's good news. And how is it on the lakes?"
"Ah, that is different! So far we have had the worst of it. That naval
battle of Put-in-Bay was a terrible disaster to us. Commodore Perry of
the American fleet was too much for Barclay. It ended in a perfect rout.
In their hands all our officers, and half the crews of our boats, were
either killed or wounded. The fact is, that battle undid all that Brock
accomplished by his great victory at Hull."
"That's bad, indeed! But what of Michigan? Surely you have better news
from there."
"Gone from us forever, I fear. We must be satisfied if we can hold our
own territory, but that we're bound to do."
"To which we all say 'Aye,'" and Sir George's words were echoed by the
little group of men who had gathered round them.
"You have dispatches for me, I believe," said Colonel Mason, preparing
to lead the way.
"Yes," replied Sir George. "I will give them to you when we reach the
Citadel."
Sleighs with broad runners, curled up behind and before, comfortably
cushioned, and well supplied with buffalo robes, awaited them; and
cheers rang out from the crowd on the wharf as the officers, with Helen
by the side of her husband, landed and took their seats. In a few
minutes the sleighs in single file dashed away in the direction of the
Fort.
"This is just lovely," cried Helen in glee. She had never seen a sleigh
before. The ponies trotted off at a swinging pace, the circlet of bells
around each of them ringing out merrily.
"First impressions are a sure omen of the future," returned Harold.
"This is my first sleigh ride, too, and like you, I am delighted."
"Look at those boys and girls," she cried again as they turned a corner.
Handsleighs and toboggans, loaded with children, were shooting down a
neighboring hill at a tremendous speed. "I wonder if some of them won't
be killed?"
"Not likely," replied Harold. "They are used to it. And use is second
nature. You'll be coasting yourself some day when we get to Penetang."
"Coasting? Is that what they call it?"
Soon the sport of the children was out of view. Another turn was made
and, driving along a level street, they ascended the hill to the
Citadel.
* * * * *
"These orders are very explicit," said Colonel Mason to Sir George,
three hours later, as the two sat together before a blazing fire. They
were the only occupants of the room.
"That's Wellington's forte," was the answer. "Emphatic precision in the
smallest detail, as well as the largest. Not a bad policy either, if it
is an iron rule."
Colonel Mason read on:
"Two companies of the 100th Regiment, under Sir George Head, to march
from Halifax on snowshoes, or otherwise, through Nova Scotia and New
Brunswick to Quebec. Then on to Montreal and up the Ottawa river to
Hull. From there to travel as nearly due west as possible, on the lines
of the old Jesuit trail, through to Georgian Bay on Lake Huron, which
will be their destination; upon which bay a garrison must forthwith be
erected. All goods, ammunition and garrison effects required, must be
carried on sleighs accompanying the troops; and, when necessary, roads
must be specially made for the purpose. One imperative order of the
march is that the column must arrive at Lake Huron before the winter is
over and the ice broken up--otherwise, the latter part of the march will
be much more difficult to accomplish."
"And when is the break-up likely to take place?" Sir George asked.
"About the beginning of April," was the reply.
"Which means, that in less than three months, in the dead of winter, we
must travel a thousand miles; and that a large part of the journey will
be through forest that has never been broken."
"A severe undertaking," was Colonel Mason's comment. "But, as the
marshes and lakes will all be frozen, the winter season is in your
favor, Sir George. The only pity is that you were not here before
Christmas; then your time would have been ample."
"We expected to arrive two weeks ago. It was the storms and not the
skirmish that delayed us."
"Something you could not avoid. How many men have you, Colonel?"
"Two full companies with the exception of several killed and half a
dozen wounded."
"A few men of your regiment were left with us by the Marquis of
Tweeddale, when he went west. What say you to exchanging the sick list
and filling up your number? If I mistake not, you will need every man."
"Thank you--a good suggestion."
"What about stores for the journey?"
"Oh! the _North King_ has a full supply; but it will take some days to
unload, as well as to secure horses and guides; and in this matter we
will have to call upon you for assistance."
"I had orders from the War Office to that effect some time ago, so you
will have nothing to fear on that score. Both men and horses will be
ready for inspection to-morrow. The enigma to me is: what is Lieutenant
Manning going to do with his wife? I understood from her at lunch that
she expected to go with you."
"That is the intention," said Sir George, smiling at the amazement of
his host.
"Ye gods!" cried the latter. "Do I understand that this young and
charming lady is to accompany you through all the hardships of a
midwinter journey across half a continent?"
"Hardly that, Mason. Say a quarter instead of half. Still the
arrangement is final so far as a woman can make it," was Sir George's
answer.
"Well it beats me! But you must have other women with you, of the 100th.
She cannot be the only one."
"We had three soldiers' wives, but unfortunately one of them died on the
way. Under the circumstances is there anything you can suggest that will
make it easier for Mrs. Manning?"
"Only this, that if the journey for her is irrevocable, when you arrive
at Quebec, pick out one or two first-class habitant women to go with
her. When you secure good ones they are invaluable. They know the
country and can endure anything, are as bright as crickets, and as sharp
as steel traps."
"A good idea, Colonel, thank you. I'll make a note of it."
"But what is all this about, Sir George? What do you really expect to do
when you reach Penetang?"
"The order is to establish a fort, build a ship-yard, and found a
colony; and when the end is accomplished, leave one of my officers in
command and return home."
"I see, I see; and that officer is to be Lieutenant Manning."
"I did not say so," said Sir George with a smile.
A tap at the door interrupted the conversation. Colonel Mason arose and
opened it.
"May I come in?" was the question, and a sweet, grey-haired lady, with a
troubled face, presented herself.
"Certainly, my dear," replied her husband. "Sir George and I were just
finishing our conversation."
"I hope I am not intruding," she answered, looking from one to the
other, "but if at liberty there is something I would like to speak to
you about, while you are together."
"We are at your service," replied Sir George, "and so far as I am
concerned, you could not have chosen a better moment."
And so saying, he courteously placed a chair for her.