CONCERNING THE DAY SPRING MINE
It was a perfect day when we commenced the ploughing, and we hailed it as
a favorable augury that cloudless sunshine flooded the steaming prairie.
Glittering snow still filled the hollows here and there, but already the
flowers lifted their buds above the whitened sod, and the air vibrated to
the beat of tired wings as the wild fowl returned like heralds of summer
on their northward journey. We had three hired men to help us, in addition
to the teams driven by myself and Harry; but, and this was his own fancy,
it was Aline who commenced the work.
"You will remember our hopes and fears the day we first put in the share.
Many things have happened since," he said, "but once more the harvest
means a great deal to both of us. Miss Lorimer--and we are now more
fortunate, Ralph, than we were then--you will imagine yourself an ancient
priestess, and bless the soil for us. That always struck me as an
appropriate custom."
The wind had freshened the roses in Aline's cheeks, and her eyes sparkled
as she patted the brawny oxen. Then she grasped the plough-stilts, and,
calling to the beasts, Harry strode beside her, with his brown hand laid
close beside her white one. Theirs was the better furrow, for, tramping
behind my own team not far away, I could hardly keep my eyes off the pair.
Both had grown very dear to me, and they were worth the watching--the
handsome strong man, and the eager bright-faced girl, whose merry laugh
mingled with the soft sound of clods parting beneath the share. They
stopped at the end of the furrow, and I wondered when Aline said with
strange gentleness: "God bless the good soil, and give the seed increase,
that we may use the same for Thy glory, the relief of those that are
needy, and our own comfort."
"Amen!" said Harry, bending his uncovered head, as, a sinewy, graceful
figure in dusty canvas, with the white sod behind him, he helped her
across a raw strip of steaming clod, while neither of us spoke again until
we had completed another furrow. It was a glorious spring, and not for
long years had there been such a seed time, the men who helped us said,
while my hopes rose with every fresh acre we drilled with the good grain.
I was sowing the best that was within me as well as the best hard wheat,
and it seemed that the rest of my life depended on the result of it. There
is no need to tell how we labored among the black clods of the breaking,
or the dust that followed the harrows, under the cool of morning or the
mid-day sun, for we were young and strong, fighting for our own hand, with
a great reward before at least one of us. Still, at times I remembered
Lee, who was in his own way fighting a harder battle against drunkenness
and misery, the reward of which was only hardship and poverty. Once I said
so to Aline, and she answered me: "It was his vocation; he could not help
it. Yours, and I do not think you could help it either--you would have
made a remarkably poor preacher, Ralph--is to break new wheat-lands out of
the wilderness; for, you will remember--well, I'm not a preacher either,
but not wholly for Grace or yourself."
Women, I have since learned, not infrequently see, perhaps by instinct,
deeper into primal causes than men, and there was more in her words than
perhaps she realized, for though the immediate impulse may be trifling or
unworthy, it is destiny that has set the task before us, and in spite of
the doer's shortcomings it is for the good of many that all thorough work
stands. Many a reckless English scrapegrace has driven the big breaker
through new Canadian land because he dare not await the result of his
folly at home, but nevertheless, if he ploughed well, has helped to fill
the hungry in the land he left behind.
It was during the sowing that Aline showed me a paragraph in a Victoria
paper which said, among its mining news: "We hear that the Day Spring will
probably close down pending negotiations for sale. For some time there has
been friction with the owner of the neighboring property, who has also
located a mineral claim, and, it is said, has exacted large sums for
compensation. We understand there are indications of fair payable ore, but
further capital is needed to get at it. We do not desire to emulate some
newspapers in sensational stories, but there is a tale of a hard fight for
this mine between two Englishmen, one of whom championed the cause of an
oppressed colonist."
"It seems cruel," said Aline. "I am afraid Uncle Martin is very
revengeful, and I wish he had not done so much. However, from what I hear,
Colonel Carrington almost deserves it, and he has evidently treated Uncle
Martin badly. I suppose you have not heard what caused the quarrel?"
"No," I answered, "and in all probability no one ever will. It is,
however, an old one, and they only renewed it in Canada. Uncle Martin says
little about his injuries, but he doesn't forget them."
This was but the beginning, for we had news of further developments
shortly, when Calvert paid us a second visit.
"I'm going home to England for a holiday," he said. "Secured a very
indifferent post in Winnipeg, and was delighted to hear of another mining
opening in British Columbia. Now, you'll be surprised, too. It was to
enter your uncle's service. I met him about the Day Spring sometimes, and
he apparently took rather a fancy to me, while on my part I didn't dislike
him."
"Martin Lorimer turned mine-owner! This is news," I said, and Calvert
laughed.
"Yes, and of the Day Spring, too; I'm to manage it in his interest. Now
you see the method in his madness. It appears that the Colonel had pretty
well come to the end of his tether--he is by no means as well off as he
used to be--and in his customary lordly way he told a financial agent to
get from any one whatever he could over a fixed limit. It was, as a matter
of necessity, a low limit. I warned Mr. Lorimer that though there was a
prospect of fair milling ore we had found very little so far, but he's a
remarkably keen old fellow, and had been talking to the miners, especially
the unfortunate one who had been holding out against the Colonel's
attempts to squeeze him off his claim. Mr. Lorimer agreed with him to let
it lapse and re-record it. So I went with him and his agent to sign the
agreement, and felt half-ashamed when Colonel Carrington came in. Of
course, I had no need to. He always treated me with a contemptuous
indifference that was galling, and a man must earn his bread. Still, I had
taken his pay, and it hurt me to see him beaten down upon his knees.
"He came near starting when he saw your uncle, but made no sign of
recognition, as, turning to his broker, he asked in his usual haughty way,
'Will you tell me what this man's business is?'
"'Mr. Lorimer takes over the Day Spring,' said the agent, and I fancy the
ruler of Carrington swore softly between his teeth, after which he said:
'You told me it was Smithson you were negotiating with. Is there any
means whatever by which I can annul the bargain?'
"'Smithson bid beneath your limit, and then bought it acting as broker for
Mr. Lorimer,' was the answer. 'I have applied for a record of conveyance,
and the sale was made by your orders. It cannot be canceled now without
the consent of the purchaser, and a new record.'
"The two men looked at each other, your uncle drawing down his thick
eyebrows, which is a trick he has, and the Colonel gnawed his lip. If it
had happened in the early gold days there would have been pistol shots.
Then my new employer said, 'I will not sell,' and Colonel Carrington
flecked off a speck of dust with his gloves.
"'You have bought it for less than a fourth of what I spent on the
property,' he said very coolly, 'but if the mine yields as it has done
hitherto I cannot congratulate you,' and he stalked out of the room. He
was hard hit, but he went down the stairway as unconcernedly as if he had
not come to the end of a fortune, while the new owner said nothing as he
looked after him. That's about all, except that the Colonel goes back to
Carrington, and my worthy employer to Mexico. He told me he had word your
cousin was not well there. I wonder, Ralph, how this matter will affect
you. Your relations with Miss Carrington are of course not altogether a
secret."
I did not enlighten him. In fact, I hardly cared to ask myself the
question, for I could not see how the fact that he had lost a considerable
portion of his property could increase the Colonel's good-will toward me.
Nevertheless, if the difference in worldly possessions constituted one of
the main obstacles, as he had said it did, there had been a partial
leveling, and if we were favored with a bounteous harvest there might be a
further adjustment. I should not have chosen the former method; indeed, I
regretted it, but it was not my fault that he had quarreled with Martin
Lorimer, who had beaten him in a mining deal. The latter could be hard and
vindictive, but there was after all a depth of headstrong good-nature in
him which was signally wanting in the cold-blooded Colonel. I disliked him
bitterly, but now I almost pitied him.
"Do you think there is any ore worth milling in the Day Spring, Calvert?"
I asked presently.
"Frankly, I do. It will cost further money to bring it up, but now that I
have a free hand and unstinted material I am even sanguine. We start in
earnest in two months or so, and then we will see--what we shall see."
Calvert left us the next day, and it was a long time before I saw any more
of him. The next news that I had was that Grace and Miss Carrington had
returned to Carrington. I rode over to see them, and found a smaller
number of teams plowing than there should have been, while even Miss
Carrington, who received me without any token of displeasure, seemed
unusually grave, and several things confirmed the impression that there
was a shadow upon the Manor. I could ask no questions, and it was Grace
who explained matters as I stood under the veranda holding the bridle of
Ormond's hunter.
"It's a strange world, Ralph," she said in a tone of sadness. "Rupert, as
you will notice, knows me well, and I never thought that one time you
would ride him. Poor Geoffrey! I cannot forget him. And now your uncle
owns the mine my father hoped so much from. The star of Fairmead is in the
ascendent and that of Carrington grows dim."
"All that belongs to Fairmead lies at your feet," I said, "I value its
prosperity only for your sake," and she sighed as she answered:
"I know, but it is hard to see troubles gathering round one's own people,
though I am glad the mine has gone. It was that and other such ventures
that have clouded the brightness there used to be in Carrington. Still,
Ralph," and here she looked at me fixedly, "I am a daughter of the house,
and if I knew that you had played any part in the events which have
brought disaster upon it I should never again speak to you."
I could well believe her, for she had inherited a portion of her father's
spirit, and I knew the ring in her voice, but I placed one arm round her
shoulder as I answered: "You could hardly expect me to like him, but I
have never done him or any man a wilful injury, and until the sale was
completed I knew nothing about it. But now, sweetheart, how much longer
must we wait and wait? Before the wheat is yellow Fairmead will be ready
for its mistress, and with a good harvest we need not fear the future."
"You must trust me still Ralph," she said wearily. "I am troubled, and
often long for the wisdom to decide rightly what I ought to do, but when I
feel I can do so I will come. Twice my father and I had words at
Vancouver, and sometimes I blame myself bitterly for what I said. Wait
still until the harvest; perhaps the difficulties may vanish then.
Meanwhile, because I am Grace Carrington, and he would not receive you if
he were here, you must come no more to the Manor while my father is away.
Besides, each hour is precious in spring, and now you must spend it well
for me."
I had perforce to agree. Grace was always far above the petty duplicity
which even some excellent women delight in, and she added gently: "Some
day you will be glad, Ralph, that we acted in all things openly; but a
fortnight to-morrow I intend riding to Lone Hollow, from which I return at
noon. Then, as a reward of virtue, you may meet me."
It was with buoyant spirits that I rode homeward under the starlight
across the wide, dim plain, for the cool air stirred my blood, and the
great stillness seemed filled with possibilities. The uncertainty had
vanished, the time was drawing in, and something whispered that before
another winter draped white the prairie Grace would redeem her promise.
Counted days as a rule pass slowly, but that fortnight fled, for there was
little opportunity to think of anything but the work in hand in the hurry
of the spring campaign, and one night Raymond Lyle, of Lone Hollow, and
another of the Carrington colonists spent an hour with us. Since Aline
honored Fairmead with her presence we had frequent visits from the younger
among them. Aline was generally piquant, and these visitors, who, even if
a few were rather feather-brained, were for the most part honest young
Englishmen, seemed to find much pleasure in her company. Lyle, however,
was a somewhat silent and thoughtful man, for whom I had a great liking,
and he had come to discuss business.
"Listen to me, Lorimer, while I talk at length for once," he said. "A few
of the older among us have been considering things lately, and it doesn't
please us to recognize that while nearly every outsider can make money, or
at least earn a living on the prairie, farming costs most of us an
uncertain sum yearly. We are by no means all millionaires, and our idea is
not to make this colony a pleasure ground for the remittance-man. We have
the brains, the muscle, and some command of money; we were born of
landowning stock; and we don't like to be beaten easily by the raw
mechanic, the laborer, or even the dismissed clerk. Still, while these
farm at a profit we farm at a loss."
"I belong to the latter class," I said; "and here are a few reasons. We
are plowing and grain-hauling while you shoot prairie-chicken or follow
the coyote hounds. We work late and early, eat supper in dusty garments,
and then go on again; while you take your hand at nap after a formal
dinner, and--excuse me--you look on farming as an amusement, while the
land demands the best that any man can give it--brain and body. Besides,
you are lacking in what one might call commercial enterprise."
"I agree with you," said Lyle, "especially the latter. Anyway, we have had
almost sufficient of farming as a luxury, and mean to make it pay. Colonel
Carrington's ideal of an exclusive semi-feudal Utopia is very pretty, but
I fear it will have to go. Now I'm coming to the point. You and Jasper
have shown us the way to make something out of buying young Western stock;
but we're going one better. Breeding beef is only one item. What about the
dairy? We couldn't well drink up all the milk, even if we liked it; and we
have definitely decided on a Carrington creamery, with a Winnipeg agency
for our cheese and butter."
"Bravo!" said Harry. "Ralph, that should pay handsomely. Only one rival in
all this district! I see big chances in it."
Then Raymond chuckled as he continued: "Specifications have been got out
for a wooden building, a location chosen, and, in short, we want you two
to cut the timber and undertake the erection. We want a man we know,
Lorimer, whom we can discuss things with in a friendly way. It can't be
ready this summer, and you can take your own time doing it. The rest say
they should prefer you to an outsider; and your railroad building is a
sufficient guarantee."
I lighted my pipe very deliberately, to gain time to think. Neither Harry
nor I was a mechanic; but in the Western Dominion the man without money
must turn his hand to many trades, and we had learned a good deal,
railroad building. Neither need it interfere too much with the farming,
for we could hire assistants, even if we brought them from Ontario; and
here was another opening to increase our revenue.
"Subject to approved terms, we'll take it--eh, Harry?--on the one
condition that Colonel Carrington does not specifically object to me," I
said. "Where is the site?"
"Green Mountain," answered Raymond Lyle. "As to terms, look over the
papers and send in an estimate. Payments, two-thirds cash, interim and on
completion, and the balance in shares at your option. Several leading
business men in Brandon and Winnipeg have applied for stock."
"Green Mountain!" broke in Harry. "That's the Colonel's private property
and pet preserve. Coyote, even timber wolves, antelope and other deer
haunt it, don't they? He will never give you permission to plant a
creamery there. Besides, I hardly fancy that any part of the scheme will
commend itself to him."
Lyle looked thoughtful. "I anticipate trouble with him," he said. "Indeed,
the trouble has commenced already. But, with all due respect to Colonel
Carrington, we intend to have the creamery. He came home yesterday, and
rides over to see Willmot about it to-morrow."
When he had gone Harry laughed with evident enjoyment of something.
"The fat will be in the fire with a vengeance now," he said, "I didn't
give them credit for having so much sense. It's one thing to speculate and
run gold mines that don't pay in British Columbia, but quite another to
turn one's pet and most exclusive territory into 'a condemned,
dividend-earning, low-caste, industrial settlement, by Gad, sir!' Cut down
the Green Mountain bluff, smoke out beast and bird, plant a workman's
colony down in Carrington! Turn the ideal Utopia into a common, ordinary
creamery!--and you will notice they mean to make it pay. The sun would
stand still sooner than the Colonel consent."
I was inclined to agree with Harry, but I also felt that if it were
impossible to lessen Colonel Carrington's opposition to myself there was
no use making further sacrifices hopelessly. Even his own people had shown
signs of revolt, and Grace's long patience appeared exhausted. There are
limits beyond which respectful obedience degenerates into weakness, and
the ruler of Carrington had reached them.
I met Grace at the time appointed, and her look of concern increased when
I mentioned the creamery.
"I am afraid it will lead to strife, and I am sorry that you are connected
with it," she said. "My father, though I do not altogether agree with him,
has a very strong objection to the project, while even his best friends
appear determined upon it. It may even mean the breaking up of the
Carrington colony. Since the last check at Vancouver he has been subject
to fits of suppressed excitement, and my aunt dare scarcely approach him.
Ralph, from every side disaster seems closing in upon us, and I almost
fear to think what the end will be. It is my one comfort to know that you
are near me and faithful."
Her eyes were hazy as she looked past me across the prairie. Starry
flowers spangled the sod, the grass was flushed with emerald, while the
tender green of a willow copse formed a background for her lissom figure
as she leaned forward to stroke the neck of the big gray horse, which
pawed at the elastic turf. There was bright sunshine above us, dimming
even the sweep of azure, and a glorious rush of breeze. All spoke of life
and courage, and I strove to cheer her, until a horseman swept into sight
across a rise, and my teeth closed together when I recognized the ruler of
Carrington. He rode at a gallop, and his course would lead him well clear
of where we stood, while by drawing back a few yards the willows would
have hidden us. But I was in no mood to avoid him, even had Grace been so
inclined, which was not the case; and so we waited until, turning, he came
on at a breakneck pace. The black horse was gray with dust and lather when
he reined him in, spattering the spume flakes upon me. After a stiff
salutation, I looked at the Colonel steadily.
"You are an obstinate and very ill-advised young man, Lorimer of
Fairmead," he said, making an evident effort to restrain his fury--at
which I took courage, for it was his cold malevolence that I disliked
most. "Grace, you shall hear now once and for all what I tell him.
Lorimer, you shall never marry Miss Carrington with my consent."
It may not have been judicious, but I was seldom successful in choosing
words, and expected nothing but his strongest opposition, so I answered
stoutly, "I trust that you will even yet grant it, sir. If not--and Miss
Carrington is of age--we must endeavor to do without it."
He turned from me, striking the impatient horse, and when the beast stood
fast, he fixed his eyes on his daughter.
"Have you lost your reason as well as all sense of duty, Grace?" he
stormed. "What is this beggarly farmer, the nephew of my bitterest enemy,
that you should give up so much for him? Have you counted the
cost--hardship, degrading drudgery, and your father's displeasure? And
would you choose these instead of your natural position as mistress of
Carrington?"
"While I have strength to work for her she shall suffer none of them," I
said. But neither, apparently, heeded me, and, rapidly growing fiercer,
the old man added:
"There will be no half-measures--you must make the choice. As that man's
wife you will never enter the doors of the Manor. Remember who you are,
girl, and shake off this foolishness."
His mood changed in an instant. Colonel Carrington was clearly not himself
that day, for there was an almost pleading tone in the concluding words,
and he awaited her answer in a state of tense anxiety, while I could see
that Grace was trembling.
"It is too late, father. The choice is already made," she said. "There are
worse things than poverty, and if it comes we can bear it together. We
hope you will still yield your consent, even though we wait long for it,
and had you asked anything but this I should have done it. Now I have
given my promise--and I do not wish to break it."
Her voice was strained and uneven, and with a thrill of pride, leaning
sideways from the saddle, I caught her horse's bridle as by right of
ownership. However, in spite of his enmity, I was sorry for Colonel
Carrington. It must have been a trying moment, for he loved his daughter,
but wounded pride gained the mastery, and his face grew livid. I made some
protestation that we both regretted his displeasure, and that Grace should
want nothing which I could give her, but again he utterly ignored me, and,
wrenching on the curb, backed the horse a few paces. Then, and I shall
never forget the bitterness of his tone, he said:
"First those fools in British Columbia, then the men I settled in
Carrington, and now my child to turn against me in my adversity. You have
made your choice, girl, and you will rue it. I will humble you all before
I die."
He caught at his breath, his face twitched, and his left hand sank to his
side, but he wheeled the black horse with his right and left us without
another word, while Grace sat looking after him with a white face and
tears in her eyes.
"I cannot tell you what this has cost me, Ralph," she said. "No, you must
not say anything just now. Give me time to think; I can hardly bear it."
We did not resume our journey immediately, and when we passed the next
rise Colonel Carrington was far off on the prairie.
"We will wait until harvest," Grace said, in reply to my questions. "There
will, I fear, be changes by then."
Half an hour later we rode into sight of Carrington, and both
instinctively drew rein; then Grace signified approval as without speaking
we rode on again. Still her faint smile showed that she recognized my own
feeling that we were riding boldly into the camp of the enemy. Miss
Carrington met us at the entrance, and when I dismounted said to me
aside:
"My brother came in a little while since in an angry mood. I fancy he must
have met you, and will not ask injudicious questions; but, to please me,
you will go. He has been broken in health lately, and any further
excitement is to be avoided just now."
I took my leave accordingly, for as far as she could do so without
offending her brother Miss Carrington sympathized with us, and as I rode
back to Fairmead I could not forget the Colonel's curious manner when he
concluded the interview. I also recollected how Calvert had said: "That
man will end with a stroke, or in a fit, when he lets his passion master
him some day."