BONAVENTURE RANCH
"We are waiting for you," said Haldane, smiling, as he stood in the
doorway of the room where, with some misgivings, and by the aid of
borrowed sundries, we had made the best toilets we could. "You are not a
stranger, Ormesby, and must help to see your comrades made comfortable.
Sergeant, my younger daughter is enthusiastic about the prairie, and you
will have a busy time if you answer all her questions, though I fear she
will be disappointed to discover that nobody has ever scalped you."
Mackay drew himself up stiffly, as if for his inspection parade, and a
white streak on his forehead showed the graze a bullet had made. Young
Cotton smiled wryly as he glanced at his uniform, for it was probably
under very different auspices he had last appeared in the society of
ladies; and I was uneasily conscious of the fact that the black leather
tunic which a German teamster had given me was much more comfortable
than becoming. I might have felt even more dissatisfied had I known that
my fall had badly split the tunic up the back. That, however, did not
account for the curious mingling of hesitation and expectancy with which
I followed our host.
During a brief visit to England some years ago I had met Miss Haldane at
the house of a relative, and the memory had haunted me during long
winter evenings spent in dreamy meditation beside the twinkling stove
and in many a lonely camp when the stars shone down on the waste of
whitened grass through the blue transparency of the summer night. The
interval had been a time of strenuous effort with me, but through all
the stress and struggle, in stinging snowdrift and blinding dust of
alkali, I had never lost the remembrance of the maiden who whiled away
the sunny afternoons with me under the English elms. Indeed, the
recollection of the serene, delicately cut face and the wealth of dusky
hair grew sharper as the months went by, until it became an abstract
type of all that was desirable in womanhood, rather than a prosaic
reality. Now I was to meet its owner once more in the concrete flesh. It
may have been merely a young man's fancy, born of a life bare of
romance, but I think that idealization was good for me.
Haldane held a door open, saying something that I did not catch; but
young Cotton, whose bronzed color deepened for a moment, made a courtly
bow, and the big grizzled sergeant smiled at me across the table as he
took his place beside a laughing girl, while I presently found myself
drawing a chair back for Beatrice Haldane, who showed genuine pleasure
as she greeted me. Her beauty had increased during the long interval.
The clustering dark hair and the dark eyes were those I remembered well,
and if her face was a trifle colorless and cold I did not notice it. She
had grown a little more full in outline and more stately in bearing, but
the quiet graciousness which had so impressed me still remained.
"It is a long time since we met, and you have changed since then," she
said pleasantly. "When you raced past our wagon I hardly recognized you.
That, however, was perhaps only to be expected; but one might wonder
whether you have changed otherwise, too. I recollect you were
refreshingly sanguine when I last saw you."
This was gratifying. That I should have treasured the remembrance of
Beatrice Haldane was only natural; but it was very pleasant to hear from
her own lips that she had not forgotten me. Her intention was doubtless
kindly, and it was inherited courtesy, for Haldane did most things
graciously.
"The light was dim, and this life sets its stamp on most of us," I said.
"May one compliment you on your powers of memory? Needless to say, I
recognized you the moment I saw you."
Miss Haldane smiled a little. "A good memory is useful; but do you wish
me to return the compliment?"
"No," and I looked at her steadily. "But there is a difference. In your
world men and events follow each other in kaleidoscopic succession, and
each change of the combinations must dim the memory of the rest. With us
it is different. You will see how we live--but, no; I hardly think you
will--for Bonaventure is not a typical homestead, and the control of it
can be only a pastime with your father."
"And yet it is said that whatever Carson Haldane touches yields him
dividends; but proceed," interposed Miss Haldane.
"With us each day is spent in hurried labor; and it is probably well
that it is, for otherwise the loneliness and monotony might overpower
any man with leisure to brood and think. Heat, frost, and fatigue are
our lot; and an interlude resembling the one in which I met you means,
as a glimpse of a wholly different life, so much to us. We dream of it
long afterwards, and wonder if ever the enchanted gates will open to us
again. Now, please don't smile. This is really not exaggeration!"
"Which gates? You are not precise," said my companion, and laughed
pleasantly when, smiling, too, I answered, "One might almost say--of
Paradise!"
"It must be the Moslem's paradise, then," she said. "Still, I hardly
fancy a stalwart prairie rancher would pose well as the Peri, and, by
way of consolation, you can remember that there are disappointments
within those gates, and those who have acquired knowledge beyond them
sometimes envy the illusions of those without. No, you have not changed
much in some respects, Mr. Ormesby. You must talk to my sister
Lucille--she will agree with you."
Her manner was very gracious, in spite of the badinage; but there was a
faint trace of weariness and sardonic humor in her merriment which
chilled me. The dark-haired girl I remembered had displayed a power of
sympathy and quick enthusiasm which had apparently vanished from my
present companion.
"I am curious to hear if you have verified the optimistic views you once
professed," she added languidly.
I laughed a little dryly. Being younger then, and led on by a very
winsome maiden's interest, I had talked with perhaps a little less than
becoming modesty of the possibilities open to a resolute man in the new
lands of the West, and laid it down as an axiom that determination was a
sure password to success.
"You should be merciful. That was in my callow days," I said.
"Nevertheless, with a few more reservations, I believe it is possible
for those who can hope and hold on to realize their ambition in this
country, whether it be the evolution of a prosperous homestead from a
strip of Government land and a sod hovel--or more desirable things. The
belief is excusable, because one may see the proof of it almost every
day. I even fancied, when in England, that you agreed with me."
There was a faint mischievous sparkle in Miss Haldane's eyes, but she
answered with becoming gravity: "Wisdom, as you seem to intimate, comes
with age, and it is allowable to change one's opinions. Now it seems to
me that all things happen, more often against our will than as the
result of it, when the invisible powers behind us decree. For instance,
who could have anticipated yesterday that we two should meet to-night at
table, or who could say whether this assembly, brought about by a
blizzard, may not be the first scene of either a tragedy or a comedy?"
I was more at home when Haldane turned the conversation upon practical
matters, such as wheat and cattle, than when discussing abstract
possibilities; but I afterwards remembered that my fair companion's
speech was prophetic, and, as I glanced about, it struck me that there
were dramatic possibilities in the situation. We were a strangely
assorted company, and to one who had spent eight years in the wilderness
the surroundings were striking. Tall wax candles in silver standards,
flickering a little when the impact of the snow-laden gale shook the
lonely dwelling, lighted the table. The rest of the long room was
wrapped in shadow, save when the blaze from the great open hearth flung
forth its uncertain radiance. The light flashed upon cut glass and
polished silver, and forced up against the dusky background the faces of
those who sat together.
Carson Haldane, owner of Bonaventure, which he occasionally visited, sat
at the head of the table, a clean-shaven, dark-haired man of little more
than middle age, whose slightly ascetic appearance concealed a very
genial disposition. He was a man of mark, a daring speculator in mills
and lands and mines, and supposed to be singularly successful. Why he
bought Bonaventure ranch, or what he meant to do with it, nobody seemed
to know; but he acted in accordance with the customs of the place in
which he found himself, and because the distinctions of caste and wealth
are not greatly recognized on the prairie there was nothing incongruous
in his present company. Sergeant Mackay--lean, bronzed, and saturnine
when the humor seized him--now bent his grizzled head with keen gray
eyes that twinkled as he chatted to the fresh-faced girl in the simple
dress beside him. I knew this was Lucille Haldane, but had hardly
glanced at her. Cotton had evidently forgotten that he was a police
trooper, and, when he could, broke in with some boyish jest or English
story told in a different idiom from that which he generally adopted. He
seemed unconscious that he was recklessly betraying himself.
"You must not turn my daughter's head with your reminiscences, Sergeant.
She is inclined to be over-romantic already," Haldane said, with a
kindly glance at the girl. "Possibly, however, one may excuse her
to-night, for you gentlemen live the stories she delights in. By the
way, I do not quite understand how you allowed the evildoer to escape,
Ormesby."
Being forced to an explanation, I described the scene by the river as
best I could, looking at the sergeant a trifle defiantly until, at the
conclusion, he said: "I cannot compliment ye, Rancher Ormesby."
I was about to retort, when a clear young voice, with a trace of
mischief in its tone, asked: "What would you have done had you been
there, and why were you so far behind, Sergeant?"
"We do not ride pedigree horses," said Mackay, a trifle grimly. "I
should have shot his beast, an' so made sure of him in the first place."
Then there was a sudden silence, when the girl, who turned upon him with
a gesture of indignation, said: "It would have been cruel, and I am glad
he got away. I saw his face when he passed us, and it was so drawn and
haggard that I can hardly forget it; but it was not that of a bad man.
What crime had he committed that he should be hunted so pitilessly?"
Young Cotton colored almost guiltily under his tan as the girl's
indignant gaze fell upon him, and for the first time I glanced at her
with interest. She was by no means to be compared with her sister, but
she had a brave young face, slightly flushed with carmine and relieved
by bright eyes that now shone with pity. In contrast to Beatrice's dark
tresses the light of the candles called up bronze-gold gleams in her
hair, and her eyes were hazel, while the voice had a vibration in it
that seemed to awaken an answering thrill. Lucille Haldane reminded me
of what her sister had been, but there was a difference. Slighter in
physique, she was characterized by a suggestion of nervous energy
instead of Beatrice's queenly serenity. The latter moved her shoulders
almost imperceptibly, but I fancied the movement expressed subdued
impatience, and her face a slightly contemptuous apology, while her
father laughed a little.
"You must be careful, Sergeant. My younger daughter is mistress of
Bonaventure, and rules us all somewhat autocratically; but, as far as I
can gather, your perceptions were tolerably correct in this instance,
Lucille," he said. "The man fell into the grip of the usurer, who, as
usual, drained his blood; but, while what he did may have been ethical
justice, he broke the laws of this country, and perhaps hardly deserves
your sympathy."
"No?" said Lucille Haldane, and her eyes glistened. "I wish you had not
told us what took place at the river, Mr. Ormesby. Here we sit, warm and
sheltered, while that man, who has, perhaps, suffered so much already,
wanders, hungry, faint, and bleeding, through this awful cold and snow.
Just listen a moment!"
In the brief silence that followed I could hear the windows rattle under
the impact of the driving snow and the eerie scream of the blast. I
shivered a little, having more than once barely escaped with my life
when caught far from shelter under such conditions, and it was borne in
upon me that the outlaw might well be summoned before a higher tribunal
than an earthly court by morning.
It was Beatrice Haldane, who, with, I noticed, a warning glance at her
sister, turned the conversation into a more cheerful channel, and I was
well content when some time later she took her place near me beside the
hearth, while Lucille opened the piano at her father's request. Possibly
neither her voice nor her execution might have pleased a critic; but as
a break in our monotonous daily drudgery the music enchanted us, and the
grizzled sergeant straightened himself very erect, while a steely glint
came into his eyes as, perhaps to atone for her speech at dinner, the
girl sang, with fire and pathos, a Jacobite ballad of his own country.
Its effect may have been enhanced by the novelty; but there was a power
in Lucille Haldane which is held only by the innocent in spirit whose
generous enthusiasms are still unblunted, and it seemed to me that the
words and chords rang alternately with a deathless devotion and the
clank of the clansmen's steel.
"I cannot thank ye. It was just grand," said Mackay, shaken into unusual
eloquence, when the girl turned and half-shyly asked if he liked the
song, though, as the soft candle light touched it, her face was slightly
flushed. "Ye made one see them--the poor lads with the claymores, who
came out of the mist with a faith that was not bought with silver to die
for their king. Loyal? Oh, ay! starving, ill-led, unpaid, they were
loyal to the death! There's a pattern for ye, Trooper Cotton, who, if
ye'll mind what he tells ye, will hold Her Majesty's commission some day
when Sergeant Mackay's gone. Ye'll excuse me, Miss Haldane, but the
music made me speak."
I noticed that Trooper Cotton seemed to flinch a moment at the mention
of a commission, as though it recalled unpleasant memories, and that the
worthy sergeant appeared slightly ashamed of his outbreak, while
Beatrice Haldane showed a quiet amusement at his Caledonian weakness for
improving the occasion. Lucille, however, smiled at him again. "I think
that is the prettiest compliment I have ever had paid my poor singing,"
she said naively. "But I have done my duty. I wonder if you would sing
if we asked you, Mr. Cotton?"
"Lucille is at an impressionable age," Beatrice Haldane said to me.
"Later she may find much that she now delights in obsolete and
old-fashioned. We have grown very materialistic in these modern days."
"God forbid!" I answered. "And I think the sergeant could tell you true
stories of modern loyalty."
"For instance?" and I answered doggedly. "You can find instances for
yourself if you try to see beneath the surface. There are some very
plain men on this prairie who could furnish them, I think. Did you ever
hear of Rancher Dane, who stripped himself of all his possessions to
advance the career of a now popular singer? She married another man when
fame came to her, and it is said he knew she would never be more than a
friend to him from the beginning."
"I have," and the speaker's eyes rested on me with a faint and yet
kindly twinkle in them. "He was a very foolish person, although it is
refreshing to hear of such men. Even if disappointment follow
consummation, aspiration is good for one. It is more blessed to give
than to receive, you know."
Here, to the astonishment of his superior officer, Cotton, who played
his own accompaniment, broke into song, and he not only sang passably
well, but made a special effort to do his best, I think; while I
remember reflecting, as I glanced at the lad in uniform and the rich
man's daughter, who sat close by, watching him, how strange all this
would have seemed to anyone unused to the customs of the prairie. Ours,
however, is a new land, wide enough to take in not only the upright and
the strong of hand, but the broken in spirit and the outcast whom the
older country thrusts outside her gates; and, much more often than one
might expect, convert them into sturdy citizens. The past history of any
man is no concern of ours. He begins afresh on his merits, and by right
of bold enterprise or industry meets as an equal whatever substitute for
the older world's dignitaries may be found among us. How it is one
cannot tell, but the brand of servitude, with the coarseness or cringing
it engenders, fades from sight on the broad prairie.
Beatrice Haldane presently bade me go talk to her sister, and though I
did so somewhat reluctantly, the girl interested me. I do not remember
all we said, and probably it would not justify the effort to recall it;
but she was pleasantly vivacious of speech, and genuinely interested in
the answers to her numerous questions. At length, however, she asked,
with a half-nervous laugh: "Did you ever feel, Mr. Ormesby, that
somebody you could not see was watching you?"
"No," I answered lightly. "In my case it would not be worth while for
anybody to do so, you see." And Lucille Haldane first blushed prettily
and then shivered, for no apparent reason.
"It must be a fancy, but I--felt--that somebody was crouching outside
there in the snow. Perhaps it is because the thought of that hunted man
troubles me still," said she.
"He would never venture near the house, but rather try to find shelter
in the depths of the ravine--however, to reassure you. I wonder whether
it is snowing as hard as ever, Sergeant," I said, turning towards Mackay
as I concluded.
The casements were double and sunk in a recess of the thick log walls,
over which red curtains were not wholly drawn. I flung one behind my
shoulder, and when the heavy folds shut out the light inside I could see
for some little distance the ghostly glimmer of the snow. Then,
returning to my companion, I said quietly: "There is nobody outside,
and I should have seen footprints if there had been."
Presently the two girls withdrew to attend to some household duties, and
Haldane, who handed a cigar box around, said to me: "Did you do well
last season, Ormesby, and what are your ideas concerning the prospects
down here?"
"I was partly fortunate and partly the reverse," I answered. "As perhaps
you heard, I put less into stock and sowed grain largely. It is my
opinion that, as has happened elsewhere, the plow furrows will presently
displace many of the unfenced cattle-runs. It is hardly wise to put all
one's eggs into the same basket; but my plowing was not wholly
successful, sir."
"It is a long way to Laurentian tide-water, and, assisted by Winnipeg
mills, the Manitoba men would beat you," said Haldane, with a shrewd
glance at me.
"For the East they certainly would, sir," I answered. "But I see no
reason why, if we get the promised railroad, we should not have our own
mills; and we lie near the gates of a good market in British Columbia."
Haldane nodded approval, and I was gratified. He was not a practical
farmer, but it was said that he rarely made a mistake concerning the
financial aspect of any industrial enterprise.
"You may be right. I wish I had taken in the next ranch when I bought
Bonaventure. But, from what I gather, you have extended your operations
somewhat rapidly. Is it permissible to ask how you managed in respect to
capital?"
The speaker's tone was friendly, and I did not resent the question. "I
borrowed on interest, sir; after three good seasons I paid off one loan,
and, seeing an opportunity, borrowed again. As it happened, I lost a
number of my stock; but this year should leave me with much more
plowland broken and liabilities considerably reduced."
"You borrowed from a bank?" asked Haldane, and looked a little graver
when I answered, "No."
It was, as transpired later, a great pity he spoke again before I told
him where I had obtained the money; but fate would have it so.
"I have grown gray at the game you are commencing; but, unless you have
a gift for it, it is a dangerous one, and the facilities for obtaining
credit are the bane of this country," he said. "I don't wish to check
any man's enterprise, but I knew the man who started you, and promised
him in his last sickness to keep an eye on you. Take it as an axiom that
if you can't get an honest partner you should deal only with the banks.
Otherwise the mortgage speculator comes uppermost in the end. He'll
carry you over, almost against your wishes, when times are good, but
when a few adverse seasons run in succession, he will take you by the
throat when you least expect it. Your neighbors are panic-stricken;
nobody with money will look at your property, and the blood-sucker
seizes his opportunity."
"But if he sold one up under such circumstances he could not recover his
loan, much less charges and interest," I interposed; and Haldane
laughed.
"A man of the class I'm describing would not wish to recover in that
way. He is not short of money, and knows bad seasons don't last forever,
so he sells off your property for, say, half its value, recovers most of
what he lent, and still--remember the oppressive interest--holds you
fast for the balance. He also puts up a dummy to buy the place--at
depression value--pays a foreman to run it, and when times improve sells
the property on which you spent the borrowed money for twice as much."
Haldane nodded to emphasize his remarks as he leaned forward towards me.
"The man you were hunting was handled in a similar fashion, and it
naturally made him savage. We are neighbors, Ormesby, and if ever you
don't quite see your way out of a difficulty you might do worse than
consult me."
He moved towards the others when I thanked him, and left me slightly
troubled. I knew his offer was genuine, but being obstinately proud,
there were reasons why he would be the last man I should care to ask for
assistance in a difficulty. That I should ever have anything worth
offering Beatrice Haldane appeared at one time a chimerical fancy; but
though her father's words left their impression, I had made some
progress along the road to prosperity. Ever since the brief days I spent
in her company in England a vague purpose had been growing into definite
shape; but that night I had discovered, with a shock, that if the
difference in wealth between us had been lessened, she was far removed
by experience, as well as culture, from a plain stock-raiser.