The canoe, which approached the shores of the lake where our explorers
stood, was a large one, built after the fashion of the coracle of the
ancient Britons, namely, with a frame of wicker-work covered with
deerskin. It was propelled with paddles by a woman seated in the stern
and a little girl in the bow.
"My wife is a woman of forethought," remarked Hendrick, with a pleased
expression. "Seeing that we are a large party, she has not only brought
our largest canoe, but has made Oscar get out the small one."
He pointed to the island, from a creek in which a little canoe of a
reddish colour was seen to issue. It was made of birch-bark, and was
propelled by a small boy, who seemed from his exertions to be in urgent
haste to overtake the other craft.
"Your son, I suppose?" said Paul.
"Yes, my eldest. His younger brother is but a babe yet. These, with my
daughter Goodred, and my wife Trueheart, who are now approaching,
constitute the family which God has given to me."
A feeling of satisfaction filled the heart of Paul Burns as he listened
to the last words, for they proved that their new friend was not among
those who deem it weakness or hypocrisy in men to openly acknowledge
their Maker as the Giver of all that they possess. This feeling was
merged in one of surprise when the canoe touched the shore, and an
exceedingly pretty child, with fair complexion, blue eyes, and curling
hair, stepped lightly out, and ran to her father, who stooped to kiss
her on the cheek. Hendrick was not demonstrative, that was evident;
neither was his wife, nor his child. Whatever depth of feeling they
possessed, the surface ran smooth. Yet there was an air of quiet
gladness about the meeting which enabled Paul to understand what the
hunter meant when, in a former conversation, he had said that he "made
those around him happy."
"Is baby well?" he asked quickly.
"Yes, father, quite well, and I very sure wishing much that you come
home soon. You been long time away."
"Longer than I expected, Goodred. And I have brought friends with me,"
he added, turning to his wife. "Friends whom I have found in the
forest, Trueheart."
"You friends be welcome," said Trueheart, with a modest yet
self-possessed air.
The woman, who advanced and held out a small hand to be shaken in
European fashion, was obviously of Indian extraction, yet her brown
hair, refined cast of features, and easy manner, showed as obviously the
characteristics of her white father. Though not nearly so fair as her
child, she was still far removed from the deep colour of her mother's
race.
Before more could be said on either side the enthusiastic youngster in
the bark canoe leaped ashore, burst into the midst of the group with a
cheer, and began wildly to embrace one of his father's huge legs, which
was about as much of his person as he could conveniently grasp. He was
a miniature Hendrick, clad in leather from top to toe.
The whole party now entered the canoes, skimmed over the lake, and past
the wooded islets, towards the particular island which the hunter called
"home."
It was as romantic a spot as one could desire for a residence. Though
only a quarter of a mile or so in diameter, the island, which was
composed of granite, was wonderfully diversified in form and character.
There was a little cove which formed a harbour for the hunter's canoes;
bordering it was a patch of open ground backed by shrubs, above which
rose a miniature precipice. The ground in the centre of the isle was
rugged--as the captain remarked, quite mountainous in a small way!
Hendrick had taught his children to call it the mountain, and in the
midst of its miniature fastnesses he had arranged a sort of citadel, to
which he and his family could retire in case of attack from savages.
One peak of this mountainette rose in naked grandeur to a height of
about fifty feet above the lake. Elsewhere the islet was wooded to the
water's edge with spruce and birch-trees, in some places fringed with
willows. On a few open patches were multitudes of ripe berries, which
here and there seemed literally to cover the ground with a carpet of
bright red.
On the open ground, or lawn, beside the cove, stood the hunter's hut, a
small structure of rounded logs, with a door, on either side of which
was a window. From those glassless windows there was a view of lake and
isles and distant woods, with purple mountains beyond, which formed a
scene of indescribable beauty. Close to the door, forming, as it were,
a porch to it, there stood a semi-circular erection of poles covered
with birch-bark and deerskins, in front of which blazed the household
fire, with a tripod over it, and a bubbling earthen pot hanging
therefrom. Around the inner side of the fire, under the semi-circular
tent, were spread a number of deerskins to serve as couches. On one of
these sat an Indian woman, with the family babe in her arms.
It was a wonderful babe! and obviously a wise one, for it knew its own
father directly, stretched out its little arms, and shouted for instant
recognition. Nor had it to shout long, for Hendrick, being fond of it
and regardless of appearances, seized it in his arms and smothered it in
his beard, out of which retreat crows and squalls of satisfaction
thereafter issued.
"Excuse me, friends," said Hendrick at last, delivering the child to its
mother. "I have been absent on a visit to my wife's relations, and have
not seen little Ian for a long time. Sit down, and we will see what
cheer the pot contains. I don't ask you to enter the hut, because while
the weather is mild it is pleasanter outside. When winter comes we make
more use of the house. My wife, you see, does not like it, having been
accustomed to tents all her life."
"But me--I--likes it when the snow fall," said Trueheart, looking up
with a bright smile from the pot, into which she had previously been
making investigations.
"True--true. I think you like whatever I like; at least you try to!"
returned the hunter, as he sat down and began to tie the feathers on the
head of an arrow. "You even try to speak good grammar for my sake!"
Trueheart laughed and continued her culinary duties.
"You told us when we first met," said Captain Trench, who had made
himself comfortable on a deerskin beside the baby, "that you had taken
special means not to forget your native tongue. Do I guess rightly in
supposing that the teaching of it to your wife and children was the
means?"
"You are right, captain. Of course, the language of the Micmac Indians
is more familiar and agreeable to Trueheart, but she is obstinate,
though a good creature on the whole, and insists on speaking English, as
you hear."
Another little laugh in the vicinity of the earthen pot showed that his
wife appreciated the remark.
Meanwhile Goodred busied herself in preparing venison steaks over the
same fire, and Oscar undertook to roast marrow bones for the whole
party, as well as to instruct Oliver Trench in that delicate operation.
While they were thus engaged the shades of evening gradually descended
on the scene, but that did not interfere with their enjoyment, for by
heaping fresh resinous logs on the fire they produced a ruddy light,
which seemed scarcely inferior to that of day; a light which glowed on
the pretty and pleasant features of the wife and daughter as they moved
about placing plates of birch-bark before the guests, and ladling soup
and viands into trenchers of the same. Savoury smells floated on the
air, and gradually expelled the scent of shrub and flower from the
banqueting-hall.
Truly, it was a right royal banquet; fit for a king--if not too
particular a king--to say nothing of its being spread before one who was
monarch of all he surveyed, and served by his queen and princess!
There was, first of all, soup of excellent quality. Then followed
boiled salmon and roast sea-trout. Next came a course of boiled
venison, fat and juicy, with an alternative of steaks and grilled ribs.
This was followed by what may be styled a haunch of beaver, accompanied
by the animal's tail--a prime delicacy--in regard to which Captain
Trench, with his mouth full of it, said--
"This is excellent eatin', Master Hendrick. What may it be--if I may
presume to ask?"
"Beaver's tail," replied the hunter.
"Dear me!" exclaimed Olly, withdrawing a roast rib from his mouth for
the purpose of speech; "beavers seem to have wonderfully broad and flat
tails."
"They have, Oliver, and if you will try a bit you will find that their
tails are wonderfully good."
Oliver tried, and admitted that it was good; then, observing that little
Oscar had just finished his fourth venison steak, he politely handed him
the trencher. The greasy-fingered boy gravely helped himself to number
five, and assailed it as if he had only just begun to terminate a long
fast.
There were no vegetables at that feast, and instead of bread they had
cakes of hard deer's-fat, with scraps of suet toasted brown intermixed--
a species of plum-cake, which was greatly relished by the visitors. At
the last, when repletion seemed imminent, they finished off with marrow
bones. With these they trifled far on into the night. Of course as the
demands of appetite abated the flow of soul began.
"I see neither nets, hooks, nor lines about the camp, Hendrick," said
Paul Burns, after the queen and princess had retired into the hut for
the night. "How do you manage to catch salmon?"
The hunter replied by pointing to a spear somewhat resembling Neptune's
trident which stood against a neighbouring tree.
"We spear them by torchlight," he said. "Oscar is a pretty good hand at
it now."
"You live well, Master Hendrick," remarked Trench, raising a bark flagon
to his lips and tossing off a pint of venison soup, with the memory of
pots of ale strong upon him. "Do you ever have a scarcity of food?"
"Never; for the country, as you have seen, swarms with game. We dry the
flesh of deer, otter, martens, and musk-rats, and store it for winter,
and during that season we have willow-grouse and rabbits for fresh meat.
Besides, in autumn we freeze both flesh and fish, and thus keep it
fresh till spring, at which time the wildfowl return to us. The skins
and furs of these creatures furnish us with plenty of clothing--in fact,
more than we can use. The question sometimes comes into my mind, Why
did the Great Father provide such abundance for the use of man without
sending men to use it?--for the few Micmacs who dwell in the land are
but as a drop in the ocean, and they totally neglect some things, while
they waste others. I have seen them slaughter thousands of deer merely
for the sake of their tongues and other tit-bits."
"There is much of mystery connected with that, Master Hendrick, which we
cannot clear up," remarked Trench.
"Mystery there is, no doubt," said Paul quickly. "Yet there are some
things about it that are plain enough to those who choose to look. The
Word of God (which, by the way, is beginning to be circulated now among
us in England in our mother tongue), that Word tells man plainly to go
forth and replenish the earth. Common sense, from the beginning of
time, has told us the same thing, but what does man do? He sticks to
several small patches of the earth, and there he trades, and works, and
builds, and propagates, until these patches swarm like ant-hills, and
then he wars, and fights, and kills off the surplus population; in other
words, slays the _young_ men of the world and sows misery, debt and
desolation broadcast. In fact, man seems to me to be mad. Rather than
obey God and the dictates of common sense, he will leave the fairest
portions of the world untenanted, and waste his life and energies in
toiling for a crust of bread or fighting for a foot of land!"
"Some such thoughts have passed through my mind," said Hendrick
thoughtfully, "when I have remembered that my ancestors, as I have told
you, discovered this land, as well as that which lies to the west and
south of it, long before this Columbus you speak of was born. But
surely we may now expect that with all our modern appliances and
knowledge, the earth will soon be overrun and peopled."
"I don't feel very sanguine about it," said Paul, with a prophetic shake
of the head.
That Paul was justified in his doubts must be obvious to every reader
who is aware of the fact that in the present year of grace (1889) there
are millions of the world's fair and fertile acres still left untenanted
and almost untrodden by the foot of man.
"It's my opinion," remarked Captain Trench, with a blink of the eyes,
induced possibly by wisdom and partly by sleep, "that you two are
talking nonsense on a subject which is quite beyond the reach of man's
intellect."
"It may be so," replied Paul, with a laugh which merged into a yawn,
"and perhaps it would be wiser that we should go to rest. Olly and
Oscar have already set us a good example. What say you, Hendrick?"
"As you please," answered the polite hunter. "I am ready either to
sleep or to converse."
"Then I will not tax your good-nature. We will seek repose. But what
of our future movements? My sleep will be sounder if I could lie down
with the assurance that you will continue to be our guide into the
fertile interior of which you have said so much."
"I will go with you," returned Hendrick, after a few moments' thought,
"but I must ask you to spend a few days in my camp to rest yourselves,
while I provide a supply of fresh meat and fish for my family; for,
willing and able though Oscar is to provide for them, he is yet too
young to have the duty laid upon his little shoulders."
This having been satisfactorily settled, the captain and Paul wrapped
themselves in deerskin blankets, and lay down with their feet to the
fire.
Hendrick, having heaped a fresh supply of fuel on the embers, followed
their example, and the camp was soon buried in profound silence.