The second night of the long march was passed by all in newly made camps
far away from human habitation. It was very different from the first
night, in which a comfortable house was secured for the lodging of the
women, refreshing both Helen and the soldiers' wives for the next day's
travel. But this time they, too, had to abide like the soldiers in the
woods.
The sun was still above the horizon when the sleighs reached the little
valley in which it was decided to pitch their camp for the night. The
spot was well chosen, being sheltered from the winds. It lay close to a
little tributary of the Shebenacadie.
Already the scouting party had commenced work. They had felled a big
pine across a narrow ravine, leaving space between it and the earth
sufficient to utilize it as a beam pole for a large improvised wigwam.
Some of the men were chopping off the long branches and leaning them
against the fallen trunk, while others were cutting down saplings for a
similar purpose.
"That's a good beginning," said the Colonel, as he stepped out of his
sleigh and stretched his limbs after the cramping of the long drive. "A
fine selection, too; lots of water and no wind. Now, every man must do
his best, for it will be dark in an hour, and it will take until then
for the troops to arrive. Chaplain, cannot you and the Doctor fix a
place at one end of that shanty specially for Mrs. Manning, and make it
snug and warm? She will have to camp out with her husband this time."
"That will be clerical work of a new kind," replied Mr. Evans with a
laugh. "But I can say grace over it while Beaumont does the fixing. How
will that do?"
"Capital. If you will also arrange the rugs and blankets while attending
to your devotions," responded the Doctor. "I think the wigwam idea
excellent. When hunting in winter I always prefer a shanty to a tent."
"Come along, then," exclaimed the Chaplain. "I see they've got the poles
up at that end already. If Madame will excuse us, we'll soon fix her
little boudoir; and by the time Lieutenant Manning arrives, he'll find
his castle built and his lady waiting at the gate to receive him."
"It is very good of you," said Helen. But there was a look of concern
upon her face, for they had hoped when starting to cover five more miles
that day, in which case they would again have found a house for her to
pass the night in. As it was, there was nothing but woods on every side,
and even Harold would not arrive until the darkening.
Colonel Head's kindly eye noted the distress, which Helen was doing her
best to hide.
"There is no help for it. We've got to take things as they are," he
exclaimed cheerfully. "It may be a good thing after all that we can't
cover the other five miles. The men are tired enough, and this spot is
simply ideal for a camping ground."
"I believe it is," returned Helen, who in watching a dozen men swing
their axes to good advantage, was regaining her courage. "The women are
helping and so will I."
Every one worked hard. Sir George, too, was constantly on the move,
issuing orders and making suggestions to facilitate the completion of
the preparations for the night. The experience in army life, which the
soldiers' wives had learned in Europe, proved of advantage now. It was
on this account they had been selected to accompany the column, and the
wisdom of the choice was proving itself already. What added cheerfulness
to the prospect, too, was the big fire of dead timber built by the
scouts.
Helen watched with interest the details of the work going on around her.
She was laying in a store of knowledge for future use; and before the
wigwams and tents were ready for the night, she helped not a little to
make them comfortable.
As the tired men marched down the hill to the camp, some of the wigwams
were ready for occupation. The horses had been provided for in an
enclosure made by the arrangement of the sleighs, and supper was ready.
Caldrons of pork and beans were sizzling on the fire, while tea and
bread from the Halifax supply were there for all. The officers' mess,
too, was a jolly one with its added fresh meat, biscuits and jam.
"My darling," said Harold to his wife, after the meal was over and they
stood together for a few minutes by one of the blazing fires. "I realize
now more than ever what you have sacrificed for me, and how much you
were willing to endure."
"Don't talk in that way, please," she returned, pressing his arm, but at
the same time dashing away a tear. "I was very willing to come, Harold,
and I have never been sorry that I did."
"And a brave little woman you are."
"I try hard. It will be easier when I get used to it. The worst of all
is the loneliness, but that I knew would come."
"It is the hardest at the start, dearest," he said, holding her tighter
by the hand.
"Forgive me, Harold. I know I am silly, but this is the anniversary of
my mother's death. Is it any wonder that I should feel a little blue?
But never mind my foolishness, I will be better to-morrow."
"Foolishness, indeed! You are the dearest and best woman that ever
lived. I had not forgotten either; and if I could I would have been
with you all day."
"Well, I'm not going to be disconsolate any more," she exclaimed in a
gayer tone. "You have not seen the dainty little wigwam that the Doctor
and Chaplain have fixed up for us among the pine branches. They have
covered the floor with pine needles. Then our bed is the funniest thing
of all. It is a pile of small pine branches, covered with another of
cedar. Over that are blankets, next a huge buffalo robe and pillows, and
over all some more blankets and another buffalo robe on top. For a door
you shove a slab of wood away and squeeze in. When inside you light a
candle to find a sloping branchy roof, seven feet high on one side and
four on the other, with a floor space that is quite large and green
branches all around."
"Is that your cozy corner Mrs. Manning is talking about?" said Dr.
Beaumont, who at this moment joined them.
"Yes, she is giving a graphic description of your skill as a builder,"
replied Harold, laughing.
"We did our best, and the Chaplain said grace over it, too; but it is
not much in the way of a lady's bed-chamber; sans stove, sans windows,
sans crockery, sans everything, but a place to sleep in," said the
Doctor.
"Well, I only hope that your quarters will be as comfortable," was
Helen's laughing comment.
"Thank you, we looked after that. What is more, we fixed our own bunk
right next to yours, so that if anything happens to the Queen of our
party, we shall be on hand to attend to her wants forthwith, whether
medical or spiritual," rejoined the Doctor.
"How kind you are! What's that?" she exclaimed, turning her head to
catch the sounds, for in the distance a long shrill howl was heard.
"Dem's wolves, Madame," said Bateese, as he brought up another armful of
wood for the fire. "Dere's anoder and anoder, sacre! de'll be lots o'
dem to-night."
"What a gruesome sound!" returned Helen with a shiver.
"The pack must be large," said Sir George, as he approached with Captain
Payne. "You had better give orders," he continued to the latter, "to
have big fires kept up all night. They say that when the wolves are
numerous as well as hungry, they will even attack a camp if not well
guarded. What do you know about them, Bateese?"
"Some tam dey very fierce, Monsieur, and when hongree will chase 'eem
right roun' de fire till 'ee shoot 'eem dead."
"They are not coming this way," said the Chaplain, who was also
listening.
"Na, na," said Bateese. "Dey smell long way off, and go 'roun' and
'roun' before ever dey come to camp."
"You don't say that we are in for fun to-night, do you?"
"Don't say noffin," replied Bateese with a shrug. "Only dey won't be
here for a long tam anyway."
"Will you take me to see the other women, Harold, before we go to bed?"
said Helen with another little shiver.
"You are surely not afraid with such a body of troops around you, Mrs.
Manning?" queried the Colonel.
"Not a bit, Sir George," was her answer, and she turned upon him a face
that showed no trace of fear, "but I want to visit the women a few
minutes and see how they fare."
"By jove, we are blest with having such a woman with us!" said the
Colonel to the little crowd about him, as the two moved away. "It gives
us a bit of civilization right in the woods; and God knows we need it.
She's a treasure, and you men must do what you can for her."
"We will all do that, sir," was the hearty response.
Helen found the women seated on a log with their husbands beside a fire
near the middle of the men's quarters. They, too, were discussing the
wolf question.
"Just listen!" exclaimed Mrs. Hardman in alarm. "There must be twenty of
'em. They might come to us when there is such a lot."
"Let 'em come," said Mrs. Bond, tossing her head. "What's twenty wolves
agin two 'undred men?"
"That's not it," said the other woman. "They're such sneaks. They say
they can squeeze into any 'ole. I wouldn't want one of them beasts in my
bunk for a bed-fellow."
"You need not be alarmed," said Lieutenant Manning. "There will be a
fire in front of each camp all night, and plenty of men on guard. If the
women are afraid though, Corporal, it might be better to put in a few
more stakes to block up the bunks more thoroughly."
"P'raps it would. We'll attend to it, sir." And the two men went off to
cut the stakes and put them in place.
Helen remained with the women a little longer, while Harold crossing
over to speak to the Colonel, told him of Mrs. Hardman's alarm. Sir
George laughed. Nevertheless, he gave the final order to double the
guard for the night, with relief every two hours instead of three. At
ten o'clock the bugle sounded the men to bed.
The large fires in front of the camps made them warm and comfortable;
and in another hour the whole camp was still, while the guards on duty
stood and lounged around the blazing fires. Silence and quietude reigned
supreme, save for the crackling of the faggots and the howling of the
wolves. For a time the sounds were very distant, seemingly miles away.
Hour after hour passed by. Snuggled beneath the blankets the men and
women were sleeping. Suddenly the howling, which had been circling in
the distance the whole of the night, concentrated in one direction, and
gradually the sounds grew louder and the tones clearer.
Captain Cummings, knowing that the drivers would be familiar with the
country and the habits of the animals, had arranged for two of them to
take part with the pickets on each watch. This time both Bateese and Pat
were on duty.
"Sacre! de dem wolf comin' straight for us," exclaimed the former.
"Be jabers! They're on a bee line down the Truro-road," added Pat. "In
foive minutes the howlin' pack 'll be on us as sure as shootin'. Pile on
the dry pine, boys," he called out in a higher key. "Whin ther's a big
pack and a cowld night, it'll take a tremendous fire to keep the
spalpeens from sessling right into us."
"We'd better call out the men," suggested a private.
"Holy Peter! we must call the drivers too, or the horses 'll be afther a
stampede," was the answer.
But both drivers and soldiers had heard the wolves and were up. Captains
Cummings and Payne and Sir George, too, were already out, and the men,
many of them only half dressed, with guns in their hands came tumbling
after them.
"We may as well see the end of this," cried the Colonel.
"Heavens! Yonder they come," shouted Cummings; and at the top of the
long incline, leading out of the valley, a dark, surging mass could be
seen clearly in the moonlight.
On they came straight down the road, filling the air with unearthly
yells. Some in the centre were on a steady run; others at the side
scampered irregularly to the right or left; while a few young and lanky
fellows leapt madly over the backs of others in order to get to the
front.
"Quick, men! Rifles ready," called out Cummings, as the men got into
position before the unusual foe. The wild rush of the wolves was checked
as they neared the blazing fires. Still, as Pat said, "Numbers made them
bould." There were more than a score of the hungry brutes; and the sight
of fire was not enough to divert their attention from horses and men
that they saw within their reach.
As they struck the camp they set up a more terrific howl than ever, and
made a sort of momentary halt. The leaders, a couple of huge fellows,
turning grey with age, seemed in a quandary whether to turn to the right
or to the left. Then they made a rush toward the riflemen who stood
nearest, and the whole pack came on.
"Fire!" cried the Colonel.
One of the old greys dropped and several others with him. With a
cowardly yell the animals veered; but it was only for a moment. Then,
some savagely turned on their fellow-comrades to tear them limb from
limb, while others scattered to right and left. Again the men fired, and
then charged with fixed bayonets, rushing on the animals with cold
steel.
By this time the whole force was roused, and clinching their guns
appeared on the scene. But brief as it was, the battle was almost over.
A number of the wolves were killed, some were wounded and others, still
unhurt, retreated into the forest; while one or two, surrounded by the
bayonets of the men, made a wild dash through the camp for the woods on
the further side.
Helen did not go to sleep early that night. The excitement of the day's
travel, together with the new conditions, had unsettled her nerves.
Consequently, a couple of hours passed away before sleep came, and then
troubled dreams marred her rest.
The mad yells of the wolves as they neared the camp awoke both her and
Harold. With a suppressed scream, Helen clutched her husband as he
sprang up to don his outer-clothing. Then came the fire of the first
shots.
"Don't leave me," she pleaded, in momentary terror. "What if a wolf
should squeeze in between the poles!"
"No fear of that, dearest," he answered, pulling on his boots and tunic
in less time than it takes to tell. "But I won't leave you. There has
been no general call for the men as yet."
"The only way in or out is through that passage," she cried, calm again,
and busy dressing while she spoke. The shooting continued and the shouts
of the men grew louder, while there was less yelling of the animals.
Then came a wild hurrying and stampeding around the camp. Harold had
stuck a lighted candle in a crotch and a brace of pistols in his belt.
In another moment he was ready for anything.
"What's that?" exclaimed Helen with a wild shout.
Harold turned instantly, and by the dim light saw that the slabs at the
entrance were being wriggled.
"By heavens, it's a wolf!" he shouted, and almost without taking aim he
fired one of his pistols at the head of a monster which was squeezing
between the poles. The bullet grazed his shoulder, but with a gruesome
howl and snapping jaw he continued forcing himself into the narrow cell.
Helen, shrinking to the further end, seized a dirk from the sheath in
which it hung, while Harold fired his second pistol. This time the ball
passed through the wolf's neck into his body. Still he was not killed,
and snapping savagely he floundered into the room.
Then came the life and death struggle between Harold and the wolf. With
his empty pistol he struck him a fierce blow upon the head, while the
wolf's teeth clutched the young man's leg.
"Quick, the knife," he gasped, and like a flash the dirk was buried in
the brute's heart. The jaws relaxed. The leg was free again and the huge
wolf rolled over.
The candle was still alight as Harold staggered, a gory spectacle, to
his couch. Helen, too, was trembling and spotted with blood. Bravely she
had faced it all and had not swooned.
"How terribly he has bitten you!" she cried with quivering lips.
"Only a scratch," was his answer. But the shots and Helen's screams had
been heard, and the poles were being forced aside. Sir George, the
Doctor, Cummings and others had come to the rescue.
"What in heaven's name have you here?" cried the former in consternation
as, in putting his head in, he almost fell over the body of the dead
animal.
"We've been entertaining a wolf," Harold gasped.
"And he's been trying to kill my husband," Helen added, bravely keeping
back the tears.
"You're not dead yet, though," exclaimed the Doctor. "Can you stand up,
old man?"
"Certainly I can." And Harold, spattered with blood, rose to his feet.
"The rascal nipped my leg, though. Perhaps you had better look at it,
Doctor."
"Come outside then, if you can walk." He managed to reach the blazing
fire, followed by Helen. And there the Doctor dressed the wound.
When the other men dragged out the dead animal before putting the place
to order again, they were amazed at their discovery.
"Why, it's the big she-wolf!" Cummings exclaimed. "The mate of the old
grey that was shot. What a desperate fight Manning must have had!"
"And his wife," echoed Sir George. "The wonder is that she retained her
senses at all."
Harold's hurt was not a severe one. Fortunately it was but a dying snap,
and the blood on his clothes was from the wolf. So he cleaned and
changed them; and Helen with water and sponge refreshed herself too.
Half an hour later they returned to their own wigwam. But the men had
not been idle. They had made it over again; and they found their bunk as
good as new. So after each had taken a glass of old wine, which Harold
had fortunately brought with him, they once more retired to rest. The
outside guards were changed, and soon the men of the troop were trying
to sleep again, in preparation for the next day's march.