"How cheerful and gay everything looks now," observed Emma to Mary, a
few mornings after the celebration of the marriage. "One could hardly
credit that in a few months all this animated landscape will be nothing
but one dreary white mass of snow and ice, and no sounds meeting the ear
but the howling of the storm and the howling of the wolves."
"Two very agreeable conditions, certainly," replied Mary; "but what you
observe was actually occurring to my own mind at the very moment."
The scene was indeed cheerful and lively. The prairie on one side of
the stream waved its high grass to the summer breeze; on the other the
cows, horses, and sheep were grazing in every direction. The lake in
the distance was calm and unruffled; the birds were singing and chirping
merrily in the woods; near the house the bright green of the herbage was
studded with the soldiers, dressed in white, employed in various ways;
the corn waved its yellow ears between the dark stumps of the trees in
the cleared land; and the smoke from the chimney of the house mounted
straight up in a column to the sky; the grunting of the pigs, and the
cackling of the fowls, and the occasional bleating of the calves,
responded to by the lowing of the cows, gave life and animation to the
picture. At a short distance from the shore the punt was floating on
the still waters. John and Malachi were very busy fishing; the dogs
were lying down by the palisades, all except Oscar, who, as usual,
attended upon his young mistresses; and, under the shade of a large
tree, at a little distance from the house, were Mr Campbell and
Percival, the former reading while the other was conning over his
lesson.
"This looks but little like a wilderness now, Mary, does it?" said Emma.
"No, my dear sister. It is very different from what it was when we
first came; but still I should like to have some neighbours."
"So should I; any society is better than none at all."
"There I do not agree with you; at the same time, I think we could find
pleasure in having about us even those who are not cultivated, provided
they were respectable and good."
"That's what I would have said, Mary; but we must go in, and practise
the new air for the guitar which Henry brought us from Montreal. We
promised him that we would. Here comes Alfred to spend his idleness
upon us."
"His idleness, Emma! surely, you don't mean that; he's seldom, if ever,
unemployed."
"Some people are very busy about nothing," replied Emma.
"Yes; and some people say what they do not mean, sister," replied Mary.
"Well, Alfred, here is Emma pronouncing you to be an idle body."
"I am not likely to be that, at all events," replied Alfred, taking off
his hat and fanning himself. "My father proposes to give me enough to
do. What do you think he said to me this morning before breakfast?"
"I suppose he said that you might as well go to sea again as remain
here," replied Emma, laughing.
"No, indeed; I wish he had; but he has proposed that your prophecy
should be fulfilled, my malicious little cousin. He has proposed my
turning miller."
Emma clapped her hands and laughed.
"How do you mean?" said Mary.
"Why, he pointed out to me that the mill would cost about two hundred
and fifty pounds, and that he thought, as my half-pay was unemployed,
that it would be advisable that I should expend it in erecting the mill,
offering me the sum necessary for the purpose. He would advance the
money, and I might repay him as I received my pay. That, he said, would
be a provision for me, and eventually an independence."
"I told you that you would be a miller," replied Emma, laughing. "Poor
Alfred!"
"Well, what did you reply, Alfred?" said Mary.
"I said `Yes,' I believe, because I did not like to say `No.'"
"You did perfectly right, Alfred," replied Mary. "There can be no harm
in your having the property, and had you refused it, it would have given
pain to your father. If your money is laid out on the mill, my uncle
will have more to expend upon the farm; but still it does not follow
that you are to become a miller all your life."
"I should hope not," replied Alfred; "as soon as Emma meets with that
long black gentleman we were talking of, I'll make it over to her as a
marriage portion."
"Thank you, cousin," replied Emma, "I may put you in mind of your
promise; but now Mary and I must go in and astonish the soldiers with
our music; so good-bye, Mr Campbell, the miller."
The soldiers had now been at work for more than two months; a large
portion of the wood had been felled and cleared away. With what had
been cleared by Alfred, and Martin, and Henry the year before, they now
had more than forty acres of corn-land. The rails for the snake-fence
had also been split, and the fence was almost complete round the whole
of the prairie and cleared land, when it was time for the grass to be
cut down and the hay made and gathered up. This had scarcely been
finished when the corn was ready for the sickle and gathered in, a barn
had been raised close to the sheep-fold, as well as the lodge for
Malachi, Martin, and his wife. For six weeks all was bustle and hard
work, but the weather was fine, and everything was got in safe. The
services of the soldiers were now no longer required, and Mr Campbell
having settled his accounts, they returned to the fort.
"Who would think," said Henry to Alfred, as he cast his eyes over the
buildings, the stacks of corn and hay, and the prairie stocked with
cattle, "that we had only been here so short a time?"
"Many hands make light work," replied Alfred; "we have done with the
help from the fort what it would have taken us six years to do with our
own resources. My father's money has been well laid out, and will bring
in a good return."
"You have heard of the proposal of Colonel Foster, about the cattle at
the fort?"
"No; what is it?"
"He wrote to my father yesterday, saying, as he had only the means of
feeding the cows necessary for the officers of the garrison, that he
would sell all the oxen at present at the fort at a very moderate
price."
"But even if we have fodder enough for them during the winter, what are
we to do with them?"
"Sell them again to the fort for the supply of the troops," replied
Henry, "and thereby gain good profit. The Commandant says that it will
be cheaper to government in the end than being compelled to feed them."
"That it will, I have no doubt, now that they have nothing to give them;
they trusted to our prairie for hay, and if they had not had such a
quantity in store, they could not have fed them last winter."
"My father will consent, I know; indeed, he would be very foolish not to
do so, for most of them will be killed when the winter sets in, and will
only cost us the grazing."
"We are fortunate in finding such friends as we have done," replied
Alfred. "All this assistance would not have been given to perhaps any
other settlers."
"No, certainly not; but you see, Alfred, we are indebted to your
influence with Captain Lumley for all these advantages, at least my
father and mother say so, and I agree with them. Captain Lumley's
influence with the Governor has created all this interest about us."
"I think we must allow that the peculiar position of the family has done
much towards it. It is not often that they meet with settlers of
refined habits and cultivated minds, and there naturally must be a
feeling towards a family of such a description in all generous minds."
"Very true, Alfred," replied Henry; "but there is our mother waiting for
us to go in to dinner."
"Yes; and the Strawberry by her side. What a nice little creature she
is!"
"Yes; and how quickly she is becoming useful. She has almost given up
her Indian customs, and is settling down quietly into English habits.
Martin appears very fond of her."
"And so he ought to be," replied Henry; "a wife with a smile always upon
her lips is a treasure. Come, let us go in."
Another fortnight passed, when an incident occurred which created some
uneasiness. Mr Campbell was busy with Martin and Alfred clearing out
the store-room and arranging the stores. Many of the cases and packages
had been opened to be examined and aired, and they were busily employed,
when, turning round, Mr Campbell, to his great surprise, beheld an
Indian by his side, who was earnestly contemplating the various packages
of blankets, etcetera, and cases of powder, shot, and other articles,
which were opened around him.
"Why, who is this?" exclaimed Mr Campbell, starting.
Martin and Alfred, who had their backs to him at the time of Mr
Campbell's exclamation, turned round and beheld the Indian. He was an
elderly man, very tall and muscular, dressed in leggings and deer-skin
coat, a war-eagle's feather, fixed by a fillet, on his head, and a
profusion of copper and brass medals and trinkets round his neck. His
face was not painted, with the exception of two black circles round his
eyes. His head was shaved, and one long scalp-lock hung behind. He had
a tomahawk and a knife in his belt, and a rifle upon his arm. Martin
advanced to the Indian and looked earnestly at him.
"I know his tribe," said Martin, "but not his name; but he is a chief
and a warrior."
Martin then spoke to him in the Indian tongue. The Indian merely gave
an "Ugh" in reply.
"He does not choose to give his name," observed Martin; "and, therefore,
he is here for no good. Mr Alfred, just fetch Malachi; he will know
him, I dare say."
Alfred went to the house for Malachi; in the meantime the Indian
remained motionless, with his eyes fixed upon the different articles
exposed to view.
"It's strange," observed Martin, "how he could have come here; but to be
sure neither Malachi nor I have been out lately."
Just as he had finished his remark, Alfred returned with Malachi.
Malachi looked at the Indian and spoke to him.
The Indian now replied in the Indian language.
"I knew him, sir," said Malachi, "the moment I saw his back. He's after
no good, and it's a thousand pities that he has come just now and seen
all this," continued Malachi; "it's a strong temptation."
"Why, who is he?" said Mr Campbell.
"The Angry Snake, sir," replied Malachi. "I had no idea that he would
be in these parts before the meeting of the Injun council, which takes
place in another month, and then I meant to have been on the look-out
for him."
"But what have we to fear from him?"
"Well, that's to be proved; but this I can say that he has his eyes upon
what appears to him of more value than all the gold in the universe; and
he's anything but honest."
"But we have nothing to fear from one man," observed Alfred.
"His party an't far off, sir," said Malachi. "He has some followers,
although not many, and those who follow him are as bad as himself. We
must be on the watch."
Malachi now addressed the Indian for some time. The only reply was an
"Ugh."
"I have told him that all the powder and ball that he sees are for our
rifles, which are more than are possessed by his whole tribe. Not that
it does much good, but, at all events, it's just as well to let them
know that we shall be well prepared. The crittur's quite amazed at so
much ammunition; that's a fact. It's a pity he ever saw it."
"Shall we give him some?" said Mr Campbell.
"No, no, sir; he would only make use of it to try to get the rest;
however, I believe that he is the only one of his party who has a rifle.
The best thing is to close the doors and then he will go."
They did as Malachi requested, and the Indian, after waiting a short
time, turned round on his heel, and walked away.
"He is a regular devil, that Angry Snake," observed Malachi, as he
watched him departing; "but never mind, I'll be a match for him. I wish
he'd never seen all that ammunition, nevertheless."
"At all events, we had better not say a word in the house about his
making his appearance," said Mr Campbell. "It will only alarm the
women, and do no good."
"That's true, sir. I'll only tell the Strawberry," said Martin. "She's
an Indian, and it will put her on the look-out."
"That will be as well, but caution her not to mention it to Mrs
Campbell or the girls, Martin."
"Never fear, sir," replied Malachi; "I'll watch his motions,
nevertheless; to-morrow I'll be in the woods and on his trail. I'm glad
that he saw me here, for he fears me; I know that."
It so happened that the Indian was not seen by Mrs Campbell or any of
them in the house, either upon his arrival or departure; and when Mr
Campbell and the others returned to the house, they found that no one
there had any idea of such a visit having been paid. The secret was
kept, but it occasioned a great deal of anxiety for some days. At last
the alarm of Mr Campbell gradually subsided. Malachi had gone out with
John, and had discovered that all the Indians had come down near to
them, to meet in council, and that there were many other parties of them
in the woods. But although the visit of the Angry Snake might have been
partly accidental, still Malachi was convinced that there was every
prospect of his paying them another visit, if he could obtain a
sufficient number to join him, so that he might obtain by force the
articles he had seen and so much coveted.