The glowing sun was touching the line where the blue sky and prairie
met, his rays casting a ruddy hue over the calm surface of the river,
when the party, conducted by Norman, reached the northern bank opposite
the fort, they having been delayed by attending to the wounded man, who
could with difficulty be brought along. As they descended the slope to
the river they caught sight of a body of horsemen galloping away across
the prairie. Norman, as he watched them, was certain that they were the
savages who had pursued his party.
"Thank Heaven, the Redskins have been defeated!" exclaimed Hector; "but
had it not been for the warning you sent my father, friend Sass, the
case might have been very different."
Norman now hailed at the top of his voice for a boat.
In a short time two men were seen launching one from a shed close to the
water. They quickly brought her across. As she would not carry the
whole of the party, the two young ladies, and, at their request, the
wounded men, were first ferried over.
Captain Mackintosh stood on the bank to receive them, and, as Sybil and
Effie threw themselves into his arms, their feelings at length giving
way, they burst into tears.
"There is nothing more to fear; we have driven off the Blackfeet, and
they have received a lesson which they will not soon forget, I trust,"
he said.
He then inquired how they had been preserved. They were both eloquent
in describing the way Hector and Loraine, with their old companion, had
rescued them; but there was no time to say much just then. While some
of the garrison, who had come down for the purpose, carried the wounded
men into the fort, the rest of the party were ferried across the river.
Captain Mackintosh gave a fatherly greeting to Hector, who then
introduced Loraine.
"I have to thank you, sir, for the brave way in which you saved this
young lady from the clutches of the savage chief. Had it not been for
your gallantry, she might have been carried off. As the fellow has,
however escaped, we must still keep careful watch for her protection."
Loraine expressed himself appropriately, saying how rejoiced he was to
have been of service, and that it made ample amends to him for his
disappointment in not having arrived in time to warn Captain Mackintosh
of the Indians' plot to surprise the fort.
Old Sass, who had modestly kept out of the way, now came in for his
share of thanks; and the whole garrison, when they heard of the clever
way in which he had frightened off the Blackfeet, were enthusiastic in
their expressions of admiration at his conduct. The hump-backed Indian,
who, as may be supposed, was no other than Greensnake, was also made
much of, all acknowledging that it was through the warning he had
brought that they were put on their guard against the intended treachery
of their cunning enemies.
The bodies of the Indians, and other signs of the strife, had been
removed before the party had entered the fort. The young ladies at once
disappeared into the house, under charge of Mrs Mackintosh, whose
maternal feelings had been fearfully tried during their absence. They
did not appear again until the evening, when Hector declared that they
looked as blooming as ever.
Loraine soon won the regard of Captain Mackintosh and Norman. Every
hour the young Englishman remained in the society of the original of the
beautiful picture he so much admired, endeared her more and more to him;
and it is not surprising that a girl who had seen so few gentlemen,
except her brothers and some of the Hudson's Bay clerks, should have
given him her heart in return. Loraine was not a man to trifle with a
girl's affections, and sooner than he might otherwise have done, he
expressed his wishes to Captain Mackintosh.
"I conclude Hector has told you that Sybil is not my daughter, though
she is as dear to me as if she were," answered Captain Mackintosh. "I
am, in truth, utterly ignorant of her parentage. Soon after my
marriage, while quartered in Upper Canada, my wife and I made an
excursion through Lake Ontario and the Sault Sainte Marie to the shores
of Lake Superior. We intended proceeding across the lake to the then
wild region of the west.
"While staying at a small cottage on the north side of the falls of
Sainte Marie, the very day before we were to sail, a heavy gale came on.
As we were unable to embark, not to disappoint my wife, I proposed to
make an excursion, partly on foot and partly on horseback, as far as we
could proceed along the north shore of the lake to Groscap, a conical
hill which we could see rising to a considerable elevation in the
distance. We found the path far more difficult than we had expected,
and at length, our object unaccomplished, we turned our steps homeward.
We had not got far when the rain began to come down in torrents, and we
were glad to take shelter in a log hut of the roughest description,
built on some rising ground a short way from the shore of the lake. It
was unoccupied, but as there was a hearth and chimney, we directed our
attendants to obtain some fuel and lighted a fire to dry our drenched
garments. In vain we waited for the weather to clear. Darkness coming
on, we found that we must spend the night in the hut, not a pleasant
prospect, but it was preferable to making our way through the forest
with the rain pouring down on our heads.
"The wind howled and whistled, the waves dashed furiously against the
shore, the trees bent and writhed beneath the blast, and my fear was
that some of those surrounding the hut might be uprooted and crush in
the roof. I went frequently to the door, in the hopes of discovering a
rent in the clouds which might enable me to hold out some prospect to my
wife of the cessation of the storm. While looking up at the sky I
fancied that I heard the plaintive cry of a child. The next moment I
thought that it must be that of some wild animal, and was about to
re-enter the hut when it was repeated. Telling my wife what I was about
to do, I desired the two men to accompany me, and groped my way through
the darkness in the direction whence the sound had come. Again I heard
the cry, and, guided by it, I almost stumbled over a woman lying on the
ground, with a child in her arms. The woman was speechless, but was
uttering low moans. I took the child in my arms and hurried back to the
hut, while the men followed me, conveying the almost inanimate form of
the woman.
"`Heaven has sent us here to rescue the little creature,' exclaimed my
wife, as I put the infant in her arms.
"She lost no time in taking off its wet clothes and wrapping it up in a
shawl.
"`It is a little girl,' she said, `and I trust has received no injury.
We must attend to the poor mother,' she added, as the men brought in the
body of the woman and laid her before the blazing fire. `Why, she
cannot be the mother of this child; she is an Indian, and the child is
beautifully fair,' exclaimed my wife, as, giving me the baby, she knelt
down by the side of the woman to try and restore her to animation. All
her efforts, however, were in vain. Before many minutes had past she
had breathed her last. We took off some of the few ornaments she wore
about her dress, to assist us in identifying her, and the men then
placed the body at the further end of the hut.
"We had, as you may suppose, no sleep that night; my wife, indeed, was
fully occupied in nursing the baby. Providentially I had brought,
instead of wine, a bottle of milk for my wife, very little of which she
had drank, and with this she was happily able to feed the child.
"How the woman and child had come to be in the position in which we had
found them, I could not tell; but our guides asserted that they must
have escaped from a wrecked canoe, and possibly others of the party
might have got safe on shore and would be able to tell us to whom the
child belonged.
"When morning came the storm cleared off, and though my wife was anxious
to get back to our lodgings, I set off to explore the beach with one of
our guides. We went a considerable distance in both directions, but no
one could we discover, nor a trace of a canoe or boat of any sort. If
the woman had escaped therefore, as we supposed, from a canoe, it must
have foundered or been knocked to pieces on the rocks, and the fragments
and bodies of those on board have been driven far out again on the lake.
"After our vain search, we commenced our journey, my wife carrying the
little girl in her arms. On our way we called at the Hudson's Bay
Company's post, situated above the falls, where the hospitable
superintendent begged us to remain, and offered to take care of the
child until its friends could be discovered. My wife, however, refused
to part with her treasure-trove, as she called the little foundling, and
so strongly expressed her wish to adopt her, that, having none of our
own, I consented, provided no relative appeared to claim her. On seeing
the ornaments which we had taken from the Indian woman, the
superintendent pronounced them to be those worn by Crees, and thought by
their means he might discover the child's relatives.
"He at once sent to the hut to bury the poor woman, and we remained at
our cottage until we could receive the information our friend promised
to obtain. He had not expected any canoe from the west, and could not
account for the one which was supposed to be lost.
"We waited on, but as the superintendent of the post could obtain no
information in the neighbourhood, and told us that it might be many
months before he could get any from the Far West, whence there could be
little doubt the canoe had come, we returned to Toronto with the child.
She became our adopted daughter, and from that day to this,
notwithstanding all our inquiries, we have been unable to learn her
parentage. Though we soon afterwards had a child of our own, she ever
retained the same hold on our affections which she had at first
enjoyed."
"I cannot but suppose that so lovely a creature must be of gentle
birth," exclaimed Loraine; "but whether she is or not, with your leave,
if she consents to be mine, I will marry her as soon as a clergyman can
be found to unite us."
"Although we shall all be sorry to part from her, I will throw no
obstacle in the way of what may tend to her happiness as well as yours,"
answered Captain Mackintosh, shaking Loraine by the hand.
As it may be supposed, the young lover felt pretty sure of the answer
Sybil would give him, nor was he mistaken.
Norman and Hector looked somewhat grave.
"And so you intend to carry off Sybil," exclaimed the latter. "I almost
wish that I hadn't brought you to the fort, old fellow. But one good
thing is that you cannot take her away until you are married, and you
may have to wait a long time for that."
Effie felt the expected parting with Sybil more than any one else. She
was also anxious, and as much out of spirits as it seemed possible for
so happy a creature to be, for Hector had naturally told her that Allan
Keith had gone to obtain reinforcements for the garrison of the fort,
and had expressed his surprise that they had not long before this
arrived.
On his first arrival a room had been assigned to Isaac Sass, and he had
been invited to the captain's table, when, notwithstanding his rough
appearance, he showed that he was a man of good education, though
ignorant of the events which had of late taken place in the world. He
generally sat opposite to Sybil, and it was remarked that his eyes were
often fixed intently on her, but that he withdrew them whenever he saw
that he was observed. He would follow her about the fort, or when she
went out to walk in its immediate neighbourhood, as if wishing to watch
over her safety, and when he occasionally addressed her his voice
assumed a softness contrasting greatly with the somewhat harsh tone in
which he ordinarily spoke.
"If ever angels come on earth, that sweet sister of yours is one of
them," he remarked to Hector one day, while he stood watching Sybil at a
distance.
"I will tell her what you say," answered Hector, laughing. "And I'll
ask her if she is really one. Perhaps she may be, for, do you know that
she is not my sister?" and Hector told him the story of her discovery.
Isaac Sass made no reply, but seemed to be pondering deeply on what he
had heard.
He continued to watch Sybil with even greater interest than before, and
managed to obtain from Captain Mackintosh a confirmation of the account
Hector had given him. He said nothing, however, in reply; but his
manner showed that he was laying some restraint on himself, during the
remainder of the time he remained at Fort Duncan.
Although Captain Mackintosh paid him every attention, grateful to him
for the service he had rendered, the old man, however, appeared at
length to grow weary of inactivity, and began to speak of taking his
departure with Greensnake for the north.
"It is seldom nowadays that I come near the country of the Blackfeet,"
he said, addressing Captain Mackintosh. "It may be a long time before
you see me here again. It may be I shall never return; but I shall
often think of the time I spent with you and your English friends."
Before, however, old Isaac took his departure two horsemen were seen
approaching the fort from the westward. Their steeds, as they came to
the gate, showed that they had ridden hard. One was a white man and the
other an Indian. The first dismounted and entered the gate.
"My name is Harvey," he said, shaking hands with Captain Mackintosh, who
advanced to meet him. "I am in charge of the missionary station at
White Fish Lake, and have come to ask your assistance for my people,
whom the Blackfeet have threatened to destroy. I have felt it my duty
to obtain, if possible, the means of protecting them."
"I am well acquainted with your name," answered Captain Mackintosh, who
knew Mr Harvey to be a devoted Christian man, one of those brave
pioneers of Christianity who, in obedience to the commands of our
blessed Lord, have, with their lives in their hands, ventured into the
wilds among the savage races of the Far West to win precious souls for
Him.
"I would gladly help you," he answered, "but this fort has only lately
been attacked, and I should not be justified in weakening the garrison
by sending away any of my people. I will, however, thankfully receive
you and your family, and those of your flock whom you may wish to bring
with you, while the others move northward beyond the reach of their
enemies. Even were I to spare you half a dozen men, they would be of
little use in repelling an attack of the daring Blackfeet."
"I feel that you are right, and that I must remove my family, and leave
our house and garden to be destroyed," answered Mr Harvey. "Pray do
not misunderstand me, and suppose that I mistrust God's protecting care;
but I know that He would have us take all reasonable measures for our
safety, and fly from earthly, as he directs us to escape from spiritual,
foes."
"We will discuss the matter after you have rested, and I have had time
to think it over," answered Captain Mackintosh. "It is my private wish
as well as my public duty to afford every assistance in my power to
missionaries labouring among the Indians, and you may depend on my doing
all I justly can to afford you the aid you wish. However, I now advise
you to lie down and rest while some food is preparing."
Mr Harvey acknowledged that he was very tired, and gratefully accepted
the offer, before paying his respects to the ladies of the family.
Sybil looked somewhat confused when she heard that a clergyman had
arrived at the fort.
"You need not be alarmed," said Effie, somewhat slily. "From what papa
says, he can only remain a few hours. He has to hurry back to his
station, and declines remaining even one night."
What might have been Loraine's wish need not be said, but Mr Harvey
promised, should his life be spared, to return shortly to perform the
ceremony which was to make Sybil his.
Captain Mackintosh, after reflecting, agreed to send five of his men,
under the orders of Le Brun, to protect Mr Harvey's station, for he
guessed that, without the prospect of booty, notwithstanding their
threats, the Blackfeet would not venture to attack it, even though
opposed by so small a number; for, if successful, they would gain but
little, and would be certain to lose several men.
Le Brun, a brave fellow, laughed at the notion.
Just as Mr Harvey was about to set out, old Sass and Greensnake
appeared mounted at the gate.
"I'll go with you, friend," he said, addressing the clergyman. "Though
I've not had much to do with parsons in my day, I want to have a talk
with you, and maybe if those villains, the Blackfeet, try to give you
any trouble, I may be of as much use as those six men you are taking
with muskets and pistols."
Before finally starting, the old man bade adieu to Captain Mackintosh
and his family, as also to Loraine.
He gazed in Sybil's face as he took her hand. "I have not prayed for
many a day, but if God will hear the prayers of such an outcast as I am,
I will ask Him to bless you and make you happy with the noble young
Englishman to whom you have given your heart. It is my belief that he
will prove true and faithful."
He spoke in a similar strain to Loraine; and turning, with an evident
effort, to where Greensnake was holding his horse, mounted, and joined
Mr Harvey, who had already left the fort.