"'_Then there was with the angels a multitude of the heavenly
host_,'--the exact number isn't sot down here," he muttered; "but I
conceit there may have been three or four hunderd,--'_praisin' God and
singin', Glory to God in the highest, and on 'arth, peace to men of
good will_.' That's right," said the Trapper. "Yis, peace to men of
good will. That be the sort that desarve peace; the other kind orter
stand their chances." And here the old man closed the book,--closed it
slowly, and with the care we take of a treasured thing; closed it,
fastened the clasps, and carried it to the great chest whence he had
taken it, putting it away in its place. Having done this, he returned
to his seat, and, moving the chair in front of the fire, he looked
first at one hound, and then at the other, and said, "Pups, this be
Christmas Eve, and I sartinly trust ye be grateful fur the comforts ye
have."
He said this deliberately, as if addressing human companions. The two
hounds turned their heads toward their master, looked placidly into
his face, and wagged their tails.
"Yis, yis, I understand ye," said the Trapper. "Ye both be
comfortable, and, I dare say, that arter yer way ye both be grateful,
fur, next to eatin', a dog loves the heat, and ye be nigh enough to
the logs to be toastin'. Yis, this be Christmas Eve," continued the
old man, "and in the settlements the folks be gittin' ready their
gifts. The young people be tyin' up the evergreens, and the leetle uns
be onable to sleep because of their dreamin'. It's a pleasant pictur',
and I sartinly wish I could see the merry-makin's, as Henry has told
me of them, sometime, but I trust it may be in his own house, and with
his own children." With this pleasant remark, in respect to the one he
loved so well, the old man lapsed into silence. But the peaceful
contentment of his face, as the firelight revealed it, showed plainly
that, though his lips moved not, his mind was still active with
pleasant thoughts of the one whose name he had mentioned, and whom he
so fondly loved. At last a more sober look came to his countenance,--a
look of regret, of self-reproach, the look of a man who remembers
something he should not have forgotten,--and he said:--
"I ax the Lord to pardin me, that in the midst of my plenty I have
forgot them that may be in want. The shanty sartinly looked open
enough the last time I fetched the trail past the clearin', and though
with the help of the moss and the clay in the bank she might make it
comfortable, yit, ef the vagabond that be her husband has forgot his
own, and desarted them, as Wild Bill said he had, I doubt ef there be
vict'als enough in the shanty to keep them from starvin'. Yis, pups,"
said the old man, rising, "it'll be a good tramp through the snow,
but we'll go in the mornin', and see ef the woman be in want. The boy
himself said, when he stopped at the shanty last summer, afore he went
out, that he didn't see how they was to git through the winter, and I
reckon he left the woman some money, by the way she follered him
toward the boat; and he told me to bear them in mind when the snow
came, and see to it they didn't suffer. I might as well git the
pack-basket out, and begin to put the things in't, fur it be a goodly
distance, and an 'arly start will make the day pleasant to the woman
and the leetle uns, ef vict'als be scant in the cupboard. Yis, I'll
git the pack-basket out, and look round a leetle, and see what I can
find to take 'em. I don't conceit it'll make much of a show, fur what
might be good fur a man won't be of sarvice to a woman; and as fur the
leetle uns, I don't know ef I've got a single thing but vict'als
that'll fit 'em. Lord! ef I was near the settlements, I might swap a
dozen skins fur jest what I wanted to give 'em; but I'll git the
basket out, and look round and see what I've got."
In a moment the great pack-basket had been placed in the middle of the
floor, and the Trapper was busy overhauling his stores to see what he
could find that would make a fitting Christmas gift for those he was
to visit on the morrow. A canister of tea was first deposited on the
table, and, after he had smelled of it, and placed a few grains of it
on his tongue, like a connoisseur, he proceeded to pour more than half
of its contents into a little bark box, and, having carefully tied the
cover, he placed it in the basket.
"The yarb be of the best," said the old man, putting his nose to the
mouth of the canister, and taking a long sniff before he inserted the
stopple--"the yarb be of the best, fur the smell of it goes into the
nose strong as mustard. That be good fur the woman fur sartin, and
will cheer her sperits when she be downhearted; fur a woman takes as
naterally to tea as an otter to his slide, and I warrant it'll be an
amazin' comfort to her, arter the day's work be over, more specially
ef the work had been heavy, and gone sorter crosswise. Yis, the yarb
be good fur a woman when things go crosswise, and the box'll be a
great help to her many and many a night, beyend doubt. The Lord
sartinly had women in mind when He made the yarb, and a kindly feelin'
fur their infarmities, and, I dare say, they be grateful accordin' to
their knowledge."
A large cake of maple sugar followed the tea into the basket, and a
small chest of honey accompanied it.
"That's honest sweetenin'," remarked the Trapper with decided
emphasis; "and that is more'n ye can say of the sugar of the
settlements, leastwise ef a man can jedge by the stuff they peddle at
the clearin'. The bees be no cheats; and a man who taps his own trees,
and biles the runnin' into sugar under his own eye, knows what kind of
sweetenin' he's gittin'. The woman won't find any sand in her teeth
when she takes a bite from that loaf, or stirs a leetle of the honey
in the cup she's steepin'."
Some salt and pepper were next added to the packages already in the
basket. A sack of flour and another of Indian meal followed. A
generous round of pork, and a bag of jerked venison, that would
balance a twenty-pound weight, at least, went into the pack. On these,
several large-sized salmon trout, that had been smoked by the
Trapper's best skill, were laid. These offerings evidently exhausted
the old man's resources, for, after looking round a while, and
searching the cupboard from bottom to top, he returned to the basket,
and contemplated it with satisfaction, indeed, yet with a face
slightly shaded with disappointment.
"The vict'als be all right," he said, "fur there be enough to last 'em
a month, and they needn't scrimp themselves either. But eatin' isn't
all, and the leetle uns was nigh on to naked the last time I seed 'em;
and the woman's dress, in spite of the patchin', looked as ef it would
desart her, ef she didn't keep a close eye on't. Lord! Lord! what
shall I do? fur there's room enough in the basket, and the woman and
the leetle uns need garments; that is, it's more'n likely they do, and
I haven't a garment in the cabin to take 'em."
"Hillo! Hillo! John Norton! John Norton! Hillo!" The voice came sharp
and clear, cutting keenly through the frosty air and the cabin walls.
"John Norton!"
"Wild Bill!" exclaimed the Trapper. "I sartinly hope the vagabond
hasn't been a-drinkin'. His voice sounds as ef he was sober; but the
chances be ag'in the signs, fur, ef he isn't drunk, the marcy of the
Lord or the scarcity of liquor has kept him from it. I'll go to the
door, and see what he wants. It's sartinly too cold to let a man stand
in the holler long, whether he be sober or drunk;" with which remark
the Trapper stepped to the door, and flung it open.
"What is it, Wild Bill? what is it?" he called. "Be ye drunk, or be ye
sober, that ye stand there shoutin' in the cold with a log cabin
within a dozen rods of ye?"
"Sober, John Norton, sober. Sober as a Moravian preacher at a
funeral."
"Yer trappin' must have been mighty poor, then, Wild Bill, for the
last month, or the Dutchman at the clearin' has watered his liquor by
a wrong measure for once. But ef ye be sober, why do ye stand there
whoopin' like an Indian, when the ambushment is onkivered and the
bushes be alive with the knaves? Why don't ye come into the cabin,
like a sensible man, ef ye be sober? The signs be ag'in ye, Wild Bill;
yis, the signs be ag'in ye."
"Come into the cabin!" retorted Bill. "An' so I would mighty lively,
ef I could; but the load is heavy, and your path is as slippery as the
plank over the creek at the Dutchman's, when I've two horns aboard."
"Load! What load have ye been draggin' through the woods?" exclaimed
the Trapper. "Ye talk as ef my cabin was the Dutchman's, and ye was
balancin' on the plank at this minit."
"Come and see for yourself," answered Wild Bill, "and give me a lift.
Once in your cabin, and in front of your fire, I'll answer all the
questions you may ask. But I'll answer no more until I'm inside the
door."
"Ye be sartinly sober to-night," answered the Trapper, laughing, as he
started down the hill, "fur ye talk sense, and that's more'n a man can
do when he talks through the nozzle of a bottle.
"Lord-a-massy!" exclaimed the old man as he stood over the sled, and
saw the huge box that was on it. "Lord-a-massy, Bill! what a tug ye
must have had! and how ye come to be sober with sech a load behind ye
is beyend the reckinin' of a man who has knowed ye nigh on to twenty
year. I never knowed ye disapp'int one arter this fashion afore."
"It is strange, I confess," answered Wild Bill, appreciating the humor
that lurked in the honesty of the old man's utterance. "It is strange,
that's a fact, for it's Christmas Eve, and I ought to be roaring drunk
at the Dutchman's this very minit, according to custom; but I pledged
him to get the box through jest as he wanted it done, and that I
wouldn't touch a drop of liquor until I had done it. And here it is,
according to promise, for here I am sober, and here is the box."
"H'ist along, Bill, h'ist along!" exclaimed the Trapper, who suddenly
became alive with interest, for he surmised whence the box had come.
"H'ist along, Bill, I say, and have done with yer talkin', and let's
see what ye have got on yer sled. It's strange that a man of yer sense
will stand jibberin' here in the snow with a roarin' fire within a
dozen rods of ye."
Whatever retort Wild Bill may have contemplated, it was effectually
prevented by the energy with which the Trapper pushed the sled after
him. Indeed, it was all he could do to keep it off his heels, so
earnestly did the old man propel it from behind; and so, with many a
slip and scramble on the part of Wild Bill, and a continued muttering
on the part of the Trapper about the "nonsense of a man's jibberin' in
the snow arter a twenty mile drag, with a good fire within a dozen
rods of him," the sled was shot through the doorway into the cabin,
and stood fully revealed in the bright blaze of the firelight.
"Take off yer coat and yer moccasins, Wild Bill," exclaimed the
Trapper, as he closed the door, "and git in front of the fire; pull
out the coals, and set the tea pot a-steepin'. The yarb will take the
chill out of ye better than the pizen of the Dutchman. Ye'll find a
haunch of venison in the cupboard that I roasted to-day, and some
johnnycake; I doubt ef either be cold. Help yerself, help yerself,
Bill, while I take a peep at the box."
No one can appreciate the intensity of the old man's feelings in
reference to the mysterious box, unless he calls to mind the
strictness with which he was wont to interpret and fulfill the duties
of hospitality. To him the coming of a guest was a welcome event, and
the service which the latter might require of the host both a sacred
and a pleasant obligation. To serve a guest with his own hand, which
he did with a natural courtesy peculiar to himself, was his delight.
Nor did it matter with him what the quality of the guest might be. The
wandering trapper or the vagabond Indian was served with as sincere
attention as the richest visitor from the city. But now his feelings
were so stirred by the sight of the box thus strangely brought to
him, and by his surmise touching who the sender might be, that Wild
Bill was left to help himself without the old man's attendance.
It was evident that Bill was equal to the occasion, and was not aware
of the slightest neglect. At least, his actions were not, by the
neglect of the Trapper, rendered less decided, or the quality of his
appetite affected, for the examination he made of the old man's
cupboard, and the familiarity with which he handled the contents, made
it evident that he was not in the least abashed, or uncertain how to
proceed; for he attacked the provisions with the energy of a man who
had fasted long, and who has at last not only come suddenly to an
ample supply of food, but also feels that for a few moments, at least,
he will be unobserved. The Trapper turned toward the box, and
approached it for a deliberate examination.
"The boards be sawed," he said, "and they come from the mills of the
settlement, for the smoothin'-plane has been over 'em." Then he
inspected the jointing, and noted how truly the edges were drawn.
"The box has come a goodly distance," he said to himself, "fur there
isn't a workman this side of the Horicon that could j'int it in that
fashion. There sartinly ought to be some letterin', or a leetle bit of
writin', somewhere about the chest, tellin' who the box belonged to,
and to whom it was sent." Saying this, the old man unlashed the box
from the sled, and rolled it over, so that the side might come
uppermost. As no direction appeared on the smoothly planed surface, he
rolled it half over again. A little white card neatly tacked to the
board was now revealed. The Trapper stooped, and on the card read,--