Turn we now to the island in the great lake where Hendrick, the hunter,
had set up his romantic home.
The premature touch of winter, which had put so sudden a stop to the
work of our explorers, gave way to a burst of warmth and sunshine almost
as sudden. It was that brief period of calm repose in which nature
indulges in some parts of the world as if to brace herself for the rough
work of approaching winter. There was a softness in the air which
induced one to court its embrace. Absolute stillness characterised the
inanimate world. Clouds floated in the heavenly blue in rotund masses,
which seemed, to the careless glance, as unchangeable as the hills, and
the glassy water reflected them with perfect fidelity. It also
reflected gulls, ducks, plover, and other wildfowl, as they sailed,
whirred, or waded about, absorbed in the activities of their domestic
economy, or in the hilarious enjoyment of the sweet influences around
them. Colours most resplendent dyed the forest trees; gentle sounds
from bird and beast told of joyous life everywhere, and the blessed sun
threw a golden haze over wood and lake and hill. It was as though
Paradise had been restored to man, and our loving Creator had swept away
every trace of evil and misery from the beautiful earth.
But although the day is surely coming when, through Jesus Christ,
"sorrow and sighing shall flee away," Paradise had certainly not
returned to earth at the date we write of. Doubtless, however,
something which seemed marvellously like it had reappeared round the
hunter's home, for, while all nature was peaceful as well as beautiful,
love was the grand motive power which actuated the hearts of those who
dwelt there, and that love had been greatly intensified, as well as
purified, since the advent of Paul Burns with the manuscript Gospel of
John in his bosom, and the Spirit of God in his heart.
Besides being naturally sympathetic, Paul and Hendrick were thus drawn
still more strongly together, as they communed with each other--
sometimes while walking through the forest engaged in the chase; often
beside the camp-fire after supper while others slept; and, not
unfrequently, while paddling in their canoe over the sleeping lake.
One evening they were in the latter position--returning from a
successful day's hunt in the canoe--when Hendrick became more
communicative than usual about the Indian tribe to which his wife
belonged, and in regard to which subject he had hitherto been reticent.
The sun was setting; the island home was not far distant. The total
absence of wind and consequent stillness of the lake rendered it
unnecessary to do more than make an occasional dip of the paddles, with
which the light craft was propelled--Paul using his in the bow, while
Hendrick sat in the stern and steered. No one was with them--indeed the
canoe was too small to carry more than two when loaded with the proceeds
of the chase.
"I have often thought" said the hunter, dipping his paddle lazily, "that
you must wonder why one whose position in the world warranted his
looking forward to a bright and prosperous career should inflict on
himself voluntary banishment, and wed an Indian woman."
"Hendrick," returned Paul, "I wonder at few things in this life, for I
know something of the working of the human mind and heart and have
ceased to judge other men's feelings by my own. Besides, I criticise
not the actions of my friend. The motives of his acts are known only to
himself and his God. The Gospel tells me to `judge not according to the
appearance.' Moreover, the longer I live with you, the more have I
learned to know that there are qualities in Trueheart which would do
honour to dames of the highest station."
A gleam of satisfaction lightened the hunter's face for a moment as he
exclaimed, with unwonted energy, "You do her no more than justice, my
friend. I have lived to learn that love, truth, and every virtue are to
be found in every station--alike with the high-born and the lowly; also
that the lack of these qualities is common to both, and, to say truth, I
had rather mate with a gentle savage than with a civilised female
tiger!"
"But Trueheart is not a gentle savage," returned Paul, scarcely able to
repress a smile at the tone in which his friend uttered his sentiments;
"she is a gentle _woman_."
"Of course, I know that" rejoined Hendrick; "moreover she is a
half-caste! I only used the word to designate the class of humanity to
which she belongs, and to contrast her with that other class which deems
itself at the top of the civilised tree."
"But it seems to me, Master Hendrick, that you are inclined to be too
severe on the high-born. There are those among them whose lives conform
to the teachings of the Gospel of Jesus."
"Do I not know it?" replied the hunter abruptly. "Have I not told you
that my murdered wife was high-born and endowed with every grace?"
"True, but what of this civilised female tiger whom you would scorn to
wed. Did not Christ die for _her_? May she not be saved by the same
Power that drags the tiger of the lower ranks--both male and female--
from the pit?"
"I doubt it not," answered Hendrick thoughtfully, as he relapsed into
his usual quiet manner, "and I am glad you appreciate Trueheart, for she
is worthy of your regard. Her name was bestowed on her by her Indian
relations. My children I have named after some of my kindred in the old
country. The tribe to which my wife belongs are called Bethucks. They
are well-disposed and kindly in disposition, and do not quarrel among
themselves more than other human beings--indeed not so much as men in
our own land; probably because they have not so much to quarrel about
and have more elbow-room. They are good kinsmen, as I know; good
hunters also, and inclined for peace, but the natives of Labrador render
peace impossible, for they make frequent raids on our island, and of
course we have to drive them away. If white men now come to
Newfoundland, I fear that the poor Bethucks will be exterminated." [The
Bethucks are now extinct.]
"I trust not," said Paul.
"So do I," returned Hendrick, "and if the Gospel you have brought here
only takes good root in our own land all will be well, for if men acted
on the command `let us love one another,' war and robbery, murder and
strife, would be at an end."
"Can we expect all men to act upon that precept?" asked Paul.
"Apparently not; but we might at least expect Christians to do so; those
who accept the Gospel as their book of law. I had expected to escape
from war and bloodshed when I left civilised lands and settled here, but
I have been disappointed. The necessity for fighting still exists!"
"And will exist until the reign of Jesus extends to every human heart,"
returned Paul. "It seems to me that what we have some right and ground
to expect is, not the stoppage of _all_ war, but the abolition of war
between nations calling themselves Christian."
It is a curious circumstance that, only a few days after the above
conversation, an incident occurred which induced both Paul and Hendrick
to buckle on their armour, and sally forth with a clear perception that
it was their bounden duty to engage in war!
That incident was the arrival of an Indian hunter who was slightly known
to Hendrick's wife.
He came in a canoe just as the family on the Island were about to sit
down to supper.
It was dark when his tall figure was seen to stalk out of the
surrounding gloom into the circle of firelight. Trueheart recognised
him at once, and a word from her sufficed to inform her husband that the
stranger was a friend. He was welcomed of course cordially, and made to
sit down in the place of honour.
Every attention he accepted with the grave solemnity of an owl, and
without any other recognition than a mild grunt, which was by no means
meant as a surly return of thanks, but as a quiet mode of intimating
that the attention was agreeable to his feelings.
It may, perhaps, be not unknown to the reader that grave reticence is
one of the characteristics of the Red men of the west. They are never
in a hurry to communicate their news, whether important or otherwise,
but usually, on arriving at any hospitable abode, sit down with calm
dignity and smoke a pipe, or make slight reference to unimportant
matters before coming to the main point of their visit--if it have a
main point at all. As it is with the Red men now, so was it with the
Bethucks at the time we write of. True, the pernicious practice of
smoking tobacco had not yet been introduced among them, so that the
social pipe was neither offered, desired, nor missed! but the Indian
accepted a birch-bark basket of soup with placid satisfaction, and
consumed it with slow felicity. Then, being offered a formidable
venison steak, he looked calmly at his host, blinked his thanks--or
whatever he felt--and devoured it.
"Has he got nothing to say for himself?" asked Captain Trench, surprised
at the man's silence.
"Plenty to say, I doubt not," answered Hendrick, who then explained to
the Captain the Indian characteristic just referred to.
"What a power of suction he has got" said Olly, referring not to the
Indian, but to the family baby which he had got on his knee, and was
feeding with a dangerously large lump of bear's fat.
"What does he say?" asked Paul, referring to their visitor, who, having
come to a temporary pause, with a sigh of contentment had said something
in his native tongue to Hendrick.
"He asked me if the singing-birds will gladden his ears and cause his
heart to thrill."
"What means he by that?"
"He only refers to a fact well known among the Indians," replied the
hunter, with a quiet smile, "that Trueheart and Goodred have such sweet
voices that they are known everywhere by the name of the singing-birds.
Happening to have some knowledge of music, I have trained them to sing
in parts one or two hymns taught to me by my mother, and composed, I
believe, by a good monk of the olden time. Some things in the hymns
puzzled me, I confess, until I had the good fortune to meet with you. I
understand them better now. You shall hear one of them."
So saying, he turned and nodded to Trueheart who of course understood
the conversation. With a slight inclination of the head denoting
acquiescence she began to sing. At the same moment Goodred parted her
pretty lips and joined her. The result was to fill the air with harmony
so sweet that the captain and his comrade were struck dumb with delight
and surprise, the Indian's jaw was arrested with an unchewed morsel in
the mouth, and the family baby gazing upward in wonder, ceased the
effort to choke itself on bear's fat.
It need scarcely be said that the grunt of the Indian was very emphatic
when the sounds died away like fairy-music, and that the hunter's white
guests entreated for more. Trueheart and her daughter were quite
willing, and, for a considerable time, kept their audience enthralled.
At last, having washed down his meal with a final basketful of soup, the
Indian began to unbosom himself of his news--a few words at a time. It
was soon found, however, that he had no news of importance to tell. He
was a hunter; he had been out with a party of his tribe, but having
differed with them as to the best district to be visited, he had left
them and continued the hunt alone. Being not far distant from the home
of the white hunter who had mated with the Bethuck singing-bird, he had
turned aside for no other purpose than to have his ears gladdened and
his heart thrilled!
"We are happy," said Hendrick, "that our Bethuck brother should have his
ears gladdened and his heart thrilled, and we trust that the spirit of
the wolf within him is subdued, now that his stomach is also filled."
A polite grunt was the reply.
"Will our Bethuck brother tell us more news?"
"There is no more," he answered, "Strongbow is now an empty vessel."
"Considering that Strongbow has just filled himself with venison, he can
hardly call himself an empty vessel," responded the hunter, with intense
gravity.
Strongbow turned his head quickly and gazed at the speaker. His
solemnity deepened. Could his white brother be jesting? The white
brother's gravity forbade the idea. In order to convey more strongly
the fact that he had no news to give the Indian touched his
forehead--"Strongbow is empty _here_."
"That may well be," remarked Hendrick quietly.
Again the Indian glared. Solemnity is but a feeble word after all! He
said nothing, but was evidently puzzled.
"Has our Bethuck brother seen no enemies from the setting sun? Is all
quiet and peaceful among his friends?" asked the hunter.
"All is peaceful--all is quiet. But we have news of a war party that
left us many days past. They had gone, about the time that the deer
begin to move, to punish some white men who were cast on shore by the
sea where the sun rises."
"What say you?" cried Hendrick, starting. "Have the Red warriors been
successful?"
"They have. Some of the white men have been killed, others caught and
taken to our wigwams to be made slaves or to die."
The consternation of Paul and his friends, on this being translated to
them, may be imagined. Past injuries were forgotten, and instant
preparations were made to set off to the rescue at the earliest dawn of
the following day.