the man, and he felt sure that he had seen him somewhere before, but his
face was disfigured with war paint, and he could not feel certain on
that point until he remembered the scene in the trading store at
Jasper's House.
"What--Darkeye!" cried he, "can it be you?"
"Darkeye!" shouted Laroche, suddenly rising from his reclining position
and staring the Indian in the face with a dark scowl. "Why, Jasper,
this is the villain who insulted my daughter, and to whom I taught the
lesson that an old man could knock him down."
The surprise and indignation of Jasper on hearing this was great, but
remembering that the savage had already been punished for his offence,
and that it would be mean to take advantage of him when there were three
to one, he merely said--
"Well, well, I won't bear a grudge against a man who is coward enough to
insult a woman. I would kick you out o' the camp, Darkeye, but as you
might use your gun when you got into the bushes, I won't give you that
chance. At the same time, we can't afford to lose the rest of our nap
for you, so Arrowhead will keep you safe here and watch you, while
Laroche and I sleep. We will let you go at daybreak."
Saying this Jasper lay down beside his father-in-law, and they were both
asleep in a few minutes, leaving the two Indians to sit and scowl at
each other beside the fire.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
THE WEDDING, AN ARRIVAL, A FEAST, AND A BALL.
New Year's Day came at last, and on the morning of that day Jasper Derry
and Marie Laroche were made man and wife. They were married by the
Reverend Mr Wilson, a Wesleyan missionary, who had come to Fort Erie, a
few days before, on a visit to the tribes of Indians in that
neighbourhood.
The North American Indian has no religion worthy of the name; but he has
a conscience, like other men, which tells him that it is wrong to murder
and to steal. Yet, although he knows this, he seldom hesitates to do
both when he is tempted thereto. Mr Wilson was one of those earnest
missionaries who go to that wilderness and face its dangers, as well as
its hardships and sufferings, for the sake of teaching the savage that
the mere knowledge of right and wrong is not enough--that the love of
God, wrought in the heart of man by the Holy Spirit, alone can enable
him to resist evil and do good--that belief in the Lord Jesus Christ
alone can save the soul.
There are several missionaries of this stamp--men who love the name of
Jesus--in that region, and there are a number of stations where the good
seed of God's Word is being planted in the wilderness. But I have not
space, and this is not the place, to enlarge on the great and
interesting subject of missionary work in Rupert's Land. I must return
to my narrative.
It was, as I have said, New Year's day when Jasper and Marie were
married. And a remarkably bright, beautiful morning it was. The snow
appeared whiter than usual, and the countless gems of hoar-frost that
hung on shrub and tree seemed to sparkle more than usual; even the sun
appeared to shine more brightly than ever it did before--at least it
seemed so in the eyes of Jasper and Marie.
"Everything seems to smile on us to-day, Marie," said Jasper, as they
stood with some of their friends at the gate of the fort, just after the
ceremony was concluded.
"I trust that God may smile on you, and bless your union, my friends,"
said Mr Wilson, coming forward with a small Bible in his hand. "Here
is a copy of God's Word, Jasper, which I wish you to accept of and keep
as a remembrance of me and of this day."
"I'll keep it, sir, and I thank you heartily," said Jasper, taking the
book and returning the grasp of the missionary's hand.
"And my chief object in giving it to you, Jasper, is, that you and Marie
may read it often, and find joy and peace to your souls."
As the missionary said this a faint sound, like the tinkling of distant
bells, was heard in the frosty air.
Looks of surprise and excitement showed that this was an unwonted sound.
And so it was; for only once or twice during the long winter did a
visitor gladden Fort Erie with his presence. These sweet sounds were
the tinkling of sleigh-bells, and they told that a stranger was
approaching--that letters, perhaps, and news from far-distant homes,
might be near at band.
Only twice in the year did the Europeans at that lonely outpost receive
letters from home. Little wonder that they longed for them, and that
they went almost wild with joy when they came.
Soon the sleigh appeared in sight, coming up the river at full speed,
and a loud "hurrah!" from the men at the gate, told the visitor that he
was a welcome guest. It was a dog-sleigh--a sort of conveyance much
used by the fur-traders in winter travelling. In form, it was as like
as possible to a tin slipper bath. It might also be compared to a shoe.
If the reader will try to conceive of a shoe large enough to hold a
man, sitting with his legs out before him, that will give him a good
idea of the shape of a dog cariole. There is sometimes an ornamental
curve in front. It is made of two thin hardwood planks curled up in
front, with a light frame-work of wood, covered over with deer or
buffalo skin, and painted in a very gay manner. Four dogs are usually
harnessed to it, and these are quite sufficient to drag a man on a
journey of many days, over every sort of country, where there is no road
whatever. Dogs are much used for hauling little sledges in that country
in winter. The traveller sits wrapped up so completely in furs, that
nothing but his head is visible. He is attended by a driver on
snow-shoes, who is armed with a large whip. No reins are used. If the
snow is hard, as is usually the case on the surface of a lake or river,
the driver walks behind and holds on to a tail-line, to prevent the dogs
from running away. If the traveller's way lies through the woods, the
snow is so soft and deep that the poor dogs are neither willing nor able
to run away. It is as much as they can do to walk; so the driver goes
before them, in this case, and beats down the snow with his
snow-shoes--"beats the track," as it is called. The harness of the dogs
is usually very gay, and covered with little bells which give forth a
cheerful tinkling sound.
"It's young Cameron," cried Mr Pemberton, hastening forward to welcome
the newcomer.
Cameron was the gentleman in charge of the nearest outpost--two hundred
and fifty miles down the river.
"Welcome, Cameron, my boy, welcome to Fort Erie. You are the
pleasantest sight we have seen here for many a day," said Pemberton,
shaking the young man heartily by the hand as soon as he had jumped out
of his sleigh.
"Come, Pemberton, you forget Miss Marie Laroche when you talk of my
being the pleasantest sight," said Cameron, laughing.
"Ah! true. Pardon me, Marie--"
"Excuse me, gentlemen," interrupted Jasper, with much gravity, "I know
of no such person as Miss Marie Laroche!"
"How? what do you mean?" said Cameron, with a puzzled look.
"Jasper is right," explained Pemberton, "Marie was _Miss_ _Laroche_
yesterday; she is _Mrs Derry_ to-day."
"Then I salute you, Mrs Derry, and congratulate you both," cried the
young man, kissing the bride's fair cheek, "and I rejoice to find that I
am still in time to dance at your wedding."
"Ay," said Pemberton, as they moved up to the hall, "that reminds me to
ask you why you are so late. I expected you before Christmas Day."
"I had intended to be here by that day," replied Cameron, "but one of my
men cut his foot badly with an axe, and I could not leave him; then my
dogs broke down on the journey, and that detained me still longer. But
you will forgive my being so late, I think, when I tell you that I have
got a packet of letters with me."
"Letters!" shouted every one.
"Ay, letters and newspapers from England."
A loud cheer greeted this announcement. The packet was hauled out of
the sleigh, hurried up to the fort, torn open with eager haste, and the
fur-traders of Fort Erie were soon devouring the contents like hungry
men.
And they _were_ hungry men--they were starving! Those who see their
kindred and friends daily, or hear from them weekly, cannot understand
the feelings of men who hear from them only twice in the year. Great
improvements have taken place in this matter of late years; still, many
of the Hudson Bay Company's outposts are so distant from the civilised
world, that they cannot get news from "home" oftener than twice a year.
It was a sight to study and moralise over--the countenances of these
banished men. The trembling anxiety lest there should be "bad news."
The gleam of joy, and the deep "thank God," on reading "all well." Then
the smiles, the sighs, the laughs, the exclamations of surprise, perhaps
the tears that _would_ spring to their eyes as they read the brief but,
to them, thrilling private history of the past half year.
There was no bad news in that packet, and a feeling of deep joy was
poured into the hearts of the people of the fort by these "Good news
from a far country." Even the half-breeds and Indians, who could not
share the feeling, felt the sweet influence of the general happiness
that was diffused among the fur-traders on that bright New Year's Day in
the wilderness.
What a dinner they had that day to be sure! What juicy roasts of
buffalo beef; what enormous steaks of the same; what a magnificent
venison pasty; and what glorious marrow-bones--not to mention tongues,
and hearts, and grouse, and other things! But the great feature of the
feast was the plum-pudding. It was like a huge cannon-ball with the
measles! There was wine, too, on this occasion. Not much, it is true,
but more than enough, for it had been saved up all the year expressly
for the Christmas and New Year's festivities. Thus they were enabled to
drink to absent friends, and bring up all the old toasts and songs that
used to be so familiar long ago in the "old country." But these sturdy
traders needed no stimulants. There were one or two who even scorned
the wine, and stuck to water, and to their credit be it said, that they
toasted and sang with the best of them.
At night there was a ball, and the ball beat the dinner out of sight.
Few indeed were the women, but numerous were the men. Indian women are
not famous for grace or cleanliness, poor things. But they enjoyed the
ball, and they did their best to dance. Such dancing! They seemed to
have no joints. They stood up stiff as lamp-posts, and went with an
up-and-down motion from side to side. But the men did the thing
bravely, especially the Indians. The only dances attempted were Scotch
reels, and the Indians tried to copy the fur-traders; but on finding
this somewhat difficult, they introduced some surprising steps of their
own, which threw the others entirely into the shade! There was
unfortunately no fiddler, but there was a fiddle--one made of pine wood
by an Indian, with strings of deer-skin sinew. Some of the boldest of
the party scraped _time_ without regard to _tune_, and our friend
Heywood beat the kettle-drum. The tones of the fiddle at last became so
horrible that it was banished altogether, and they danced that night to
the kettle-drum!
Of course the fair bride was the queen of that ball. Her countenance
was the light of it, and her modest, womanly manner had a softening
influence on the rough men who surrounded her.
When the ball was over, a curious thing occurred in the hall in which it
had taken place. The room was heated by a stove, and as a stove dries
the air of a room too much, it was customary to keep a pan of water on
the stove to moisten it a little. This moisture was increased that
night by the steam of the supper and by the wild dancing, so that, when
all was over, the walls and ceiling were covered with drops of water.
During the night this all froze in the form of small beautifully-shaped
crystals, and in the morning they found themselves in a crystal palace
of nature's own formation, which beat all the crystal palaces that ever
were heard of--at least in originality, if not in splendour.
Thus happily ended the marriage-day of honest Jasper Derry and sweet
Marie Laroche, and thus pleasantly began the new year of 18--. But as
surely as darkness follows light, and night follows day, so surely does
sorrow tread on the heels of joy in the history of man. God has so
ordained it, and he is wise who counts upon experiencing both.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
THE CONCLUSION.
A week after the events narrated in the last chapter, Jasper Derry was
sitting beside the stove in the hall at Fort Erie, smoking his pipe and
conversing with his father-in-law about his intention of going to Lake
Winnipeg with the brigade in spring and proceeding thence to Canada in a
bark canoe.
"Of course," said he, "I will take Marie with me, and if you'll take my
advice, father, you'll come too."
"No, my son, not yet a while," said old Laroche, shaking his head; "I
have a year yet to serve the Company before my engagement is out. After
that I may come, if I'm spared; but you know that the Indians are not
safe just now, and some of them, I fear, bear me a grudge, for they're a
revengeful set."
"That's true, father, but supposin' that all goes well with you, will ye
come an' live with Marie and me?"
"We shall see, lad; we shall see," replied Laroche, with a pleased
smile; for the old guide evidently enjoyed the prospect of spending the
evening of life in the land of his fathers, and under the roof-tree of
his son and daughter.
At that moment the report of a gun was heard outside the house. One of
the window-panes was smashed and at the same instant Laroche fell
heavily forward on the floor.
Jasper sprang up and endeavoured to raise him, but found that he was
insensible. He laid him carefully on his back, and hastily opened the
breast of his coat. A few drops of blood showed where he had been
wounded. Meanwhile several of the men who had been attracted by the
gunshot so close to the house burst into the room.
"Stand back, stand back, give him air," cried Jasper; "stay, O God help
us! the old man is shot clean through the heart!"
For one moment Jasper looked up with a bewildered glance in the faces of
the men, then, uttering a wild cry of mingled rage and agony, he sprang
up, dashed them aside, and catching up his gun and snow-shoes rushed out
of the house.
He soon found a fresh track in the snow, and the length of the stride,
coupled with the manner in which the snow was cast aside, and the
smaller bushes were broken and trodden down, told him that the fugitive
had made it. In a moment, he was following the track, with the utmost
speed, of which he was capable. He never once halted, or faltered, or
turned aside, all that day. His iron frame seemed to be incapable of
fatigue. He went with his body bent forward, his brows lowering, and
his lips firmly compressed; but he was not successful. The murderer had
got a sufficiently long start of him to render what sailors call a stern
chase a long one. Still Jasper never thought of giving up the pursuit,
until he came suddenly on an open space, where the snow had been
recently trodden down by a herd of buffaloes, and by a band of Indians
who were in chase of them.
Here he lost the track, and although he searched long and carefully he
could not find it. Late that night the baffled hunter returned to the
fort.
"You have failed--I see by your look," said Mr Pemberton, as Jasper
entered.
"Ay, I have failed," returned the other gloomily. "He must have gone
with the band of Indians among whose tracks I lost his footsteps."
"Have you any idea who can have done this horrible deed?" said
Pemberton.
"It was Darkeye," said Jasper in a stern voice.
Some of the Indians who chanced to be in the hall were startled, and
rose on hearing this.
"Be not alarmed, friends," said the fur-trader. "You are the guests of
Christian men. We will not punish you for the deeds of another man of
your tribe."
"How does the white man know that this was done by Darkeye?" asked a
chief haughtily.
"I _know_ _it_," said Jasper angrily; "I feel sure of it; but I cannot
prove it--of course. Does Arrowhead agree with me?"
"He does!" replied the Indian, "and there may be proof. Does Jasper
remember the trading store and the _bitten_ _bullet_?"
A gleam of intelligence shot across the countenance of the white hunter
as his comrade said this. "True, Arrowhead, true."
He turned, as he spoke, to the body of his late father-in-law, and
examined the wound. The ball, after passing through the heart, had
lodged in the back, just under the skin.
"See," said he to the Indians, "I will cut out this ball, but before
doing so I will tell how I think it is marked."
He then related the incident in the trading store, with which the reader
is already acquainted, and afterwards extracted the ball, which,
although much flattened and knocked out of shape, showed clearly the
deep marks made by the Indian's teeth. Thus, the act which had been
done slyly but boastfully before the eyes of a comrade, probably as
wicked as himself, became the means whereby Darkeye's guilt was clearly
proved.
At once a party of his own tribe were directed by their chief to go out
in pursuit of the murderer.
It were vain for me to endeavour to describe the anguish of poor Marie
on being deprived of a kind and loving father in so awful and sudden a
manner. I will drop a veil over her grief, which was too deep and
sacred to be intermeddled with.
On the day following the murder, a band of Indians arrived at Fort Erie
with buffalo skins for sale. To the amazement of every one Darkeye
himself was among them. The wily savage--knowing that his attempting to
quit that part of the country as a fugitive would be certain to fix
suspicion on him as the murderer--resolved to face the fur-traders as if
he were ignorant of the deed which had been done. By the very boldness
of this step he hoped to disarm suspicion; but he forgot the _bitten_
_ball_.
It was therefore a look of genuine surprise that rose to Darkeye's
visage, when, the moment he entered the fort, Mr Pemberton seized him
by the right arm, and led him into the hall.
At first he attempted to seize the handle of his knife, but a glance at
the numbers of the white men, and the indifference of his own friends,
showed him that his best chance lay in cunning.
The Indians who had arrived with him were soon informed by the others of
the cause of this, and all of them crowded into the hall to watch the
proceedings. The body of poor Laroche was laid on a table, and Darkeye
was led up to it. The cunning Indian put on a pretended look of
surprise on beholding it, and then the usual expression of stolid
gravity settled on his face as he turned to Mr Pemberton for
information.
"_Your_ hand did this," said the fur-trader.
"Is Darkeye a dog that he should slay an old man?" said the savage.
"No, you're not a dog," cried Jasper fiercely; "you are worse--a
cowardly murderer?"
"Stand back, Jasper," said Mr Pemberton, laying his hand on the
shoulder of the excited hunter, and thrusting him firmly away. "This is
a serious charge. The Indian shall not be hastily condemned. He shall
have fair play, and _justice_."
"Good!" cried several of the Indians on hearing this. Meanwhile the
principal chief of the tribe took up his stand close beside the
prisoner.
"Darkeye," said Mr Pemberton, while he looked steadfastly into the eyes
of the Indian, who returned the look as steadily--"Darkeye, do you
remember a conversation you had many weeks ago in the trading store at
Jasper's House?"
The countenance of the Indian was instantly troubled, and he said with
some hesitation, "Darkeye has had many conversations in that store; is
he a medicine-man [a conjurer] that he should know what you mean?"
"I will only put one other question," said the fur-trader. "Do you know
this bullet _with_ _the_ _marks_ _of_ _teeth_ in it?"
Darkeye's visage fell at once. He became deadly pale, and his limbs
trembled. He was about to speak when the chief, who had hitherto stood
in silence at his side, suddenly whirled his tomahawk in the air, and,
bringing it down on the murderer's skull, cleft him to the chin!
A fierce yell followed this act, and several scalping knives reached the
dead man's heart before his body fell to the ground. The scene that
followed was terrible. The savages were roused to a state of frenzy,
and for a moment the white men feared an attack, but the anger of the
Indians was altogether directed against their dead comrade, who had been
disliked by his people, while his poor victim Laroche had been a
universal favourite. Seizing the body of Darkeye, they carried it down
to the banks of the river, hooting and yelling as they went; hacked and
cut it nearly to pieces, and then, kindling a large fire, they threw the
mangled corpse into it, and burned it to ashes.
It was long before the shadow of this dark cloud passed away from Fort
Erie; and it was longer still before poor Marie recovered her wonted
cheerfulness. But the presence of Mr Wilson did much to comfort her.
Gradually time softened the pang and healed the wound.
And now, little remains to be told. Winter passed away and spring came,
and when the rivers and lakes were sufficiently free from ice, the
brigade of boats left Fort Erie, laden with furs, for the sea-coast.
On arriving at Lake Winnipeg, Jasper obtained a small canoe, and,
placing his wife and Heywood in the middle of it, he and Arrowhead took
the paddles, seated themselves in the bow and stern, and guided their
frail bark through many hundreds of miles of wilderness--over many a
rough portage, across many a beautiful lake, and up many a roaring
torrent, until, finally, they arrived in Canada.
Here Jasper settled. His farm prospered--his family increased. Sturdy
boys, in course of time, ploughed the land and blooming daughters tended
the dairy. Yet Jasper Derry did not cease to toil. He was one of those
men who _feel_ that they were made to work, and that much happiness
flows from working. He often used to say that if it was God's will, he
would "like to die in harness."
Jasper's only weakness was the pipe. It stuck to him and he stuck to it
to the last. Marie, in course of time, came to tolerate it, and
regularly filled it for him every night.
Evening was the time when the inmates of Erie Cottage (as their
residence was named) enjoyed themselves most; for it was then that the
stalwart sons and the blooming daughters circled round the great fire of
wood that roared, on winter nights, up the chimney; and it was then that
Jasper received his pipe from his still good-looking, though rather
stout, Marie, and began to spin yarns about his young days. At this
time, too, it was, that the door would frequently open, and a rugged old
Indian would stalk in like a mahogany ghost, and squat down in front of
the fire. He was often followed by a tall thin old gentleman, who was
extremely excitable, but good-humoured. Jasper greeted these two
remarkable looking men by the names of Arrowhead and Heywood.
And glad were the young people when they saw their wrinkled faces, for
then, they knew from experience, their old father would become more
lively than usual, and would go on for hours talking of all the wonders
and dangers that he had seen and encountered long, long ago, when he and
his two friends were away in the wilderness.
THE END.
End of Project Gutenberg's Away in the Wilderness, by R.M. Ballantyne