The proverbial slip 'twixt the cup and the lip, and the well-known
uncertainty of all human affairs, received striking illustration in the
person and prospects of our hero, Daniel Davidson, not long after the
events narrated in the last chapter.
Up to this period the unfortunate colonists of the Red River Settlement
had led a life chiefly of disappointment and disaster. Although
everything had been done for them by their patron the Earl of Selkirk
with the best intentions, the carrying out of his plans had been
frustrated by the feuds of the rival fur companies, the
misunderstandings and the jealousies of Indians and half-breeds, and, to
some extent, by the severity of the climate. An open rupture took place
between them and the North-westers. Encounters between the contending
parties occurred, in which several on both sides were killed, and at
last the North-Westers, attacking the settlers in force, drove them from
the colony and burnt their dwellings and homesteads.
Retreating to the north end of Lake Winnipeg, the colonists found refuge
at Jack River--three hundred miles distant. From this place they were
ultimately recalled by the Hudson's Bay Company, which took them under
its protection. Returning to Red River, the unfortunate but persevering
people proceeded to resume their farming operations. But the prospect
before them was gloomy enough. The lawless proceedings of the rival
companies had convulsed the whole Indian country, and the evil seemed to
culminate in the Red River Colony, to which retired servants of the
fur-traders, voyageurs, adventurers, and idlers gravitated as to a
centre; so that there was little prospect of their being allowed to
prosecute their agricultural operations in peace.
The dissensions at last became so great that a large proportion of the
new settlers, including many of the Scotch Highlanders, dispersed to
seek a precarious livelihood among the Indians, on the prairies
bordering the waters of the Missouri, or to sustain themselves and their
families by fishing in the distant lakes, and hunting on their shores.
On the advent of spring, however, most of these returned to the colony,
with renewed hope in agriculture, and set to work--every man, woman, and
child--to get some seed into the ground.
But at this point an event occurred which threw the colony into great
consternation, and induced vigorous action on the part of Lord Selkirk,
which was the first step towards more peaceful times.
The North-West party, consisting chiefly of half-breeds, had augmented
to upwards of three hundred warriors. It would be more correct,
perhaps, to style them banditti; for they had penetrated through every
part of Rupert's Land, set law at defiance, pillaged and destroyed many
of the establishments of their rivals, and kept the whole country in a
state of ferment and alarm.
One band of these men, numbering between sixty and seventy, advanced
upon Red River Colony. They were a motley crew, all mounted on
horseback and armed with guns, spears, tomahawks, bows, and
scalping-knives, besides which they were painted and plumed _a la
sauvage_, and were in the habit when rushing to battle, of yelling like
the Red-men whose blood mingled with that of the White-man in their
veins.
What was the precise intention of these men at this time it is difficult
to say, but it was not difficult to see that peace was not their object.
Governor Semple, of the Hudson's Bay Company, a mild, just, and much
respected man, was in charge of the colony at the time.
Daniel Davidson was engaged in a very important conversation with old
Duncan McKay at the time the formidable troop of North-Westers swept
through the settlements. The old man was seated in the hall, parlour,
drawing-room--or whatever you choose to call it--of Ben Nevis House. It
was an uncarpeted, unpainted, unadorned room with pine plank flooring,
plank walls, a plank ceiling, a plank table, and a set of plank chairs.
Ornament was dispensed with in the hall of Ben Nevis House; for although
Elspie would fain have clothed it with a little feminine grace, its
proprietor would not hear of such proposals.
"Stick as many gimcracks as you like about your own room, Elspie," he
had remarked when the first attempt was made, "but leave me my hall in
peace. It iss quite pleased with it I am as it iss."
Opposite the door of the hall there was a large open fireplace without a
grate. Doors all round the walls of the hall opened into the other
rooms of the establishment. Above what would have been the mantelpiece,
had one existed, there was a row of tobacco pipes. Old Duncan was a
great smoker. Indeed he would have been almost unrecognisable without
his pipe. He was smoking when Daniel Davidson visited him, in order to
hold the very important conversation to which we have referred.
"It iss as you say, Taniel," remarked the old man, frowning at his pipe,
which was not drawing properly. "Marrit life iss more to be desired
than single blessedness, whatever, an' it is a my opeenion that you will
do more work with Elspie helpin' you, than by yourself. When iss it you
will be wantin' to call me your father?"
The old man asked the question with a somewhat humorous smile, for he
was, to say truth, not a little proud of the staid, sensible, and strong
young fellow who aspired to his daughter's hand--besides, the pipe was
drawing well by that time.
"As soon as you like," answered Dan, "or, rather, as soon as Elspie
likes. You see, things are beginning to look a little more hopeful now.
People who seem to know best--or seem to think they do--tell us that
the Nor'-Westers are beginning to see that a colony here won't interfere
in any way with their business; a good deal of seed has been sown, and,
if all goes well, we may look for a better year than we have yet had;
therefore I don't see why we should wait any longer."
"Your observations are ferry true. There iss just wan little word you
mention that requires consideration," returned the old man with a brow
wrinkled so as to suggest profound sagacity of thought. "You said `if
all goes well.' But supposin', for the sake of argument, that all does
_not_ go well--what then?"
"Why, then," answered the young man with a laugh, "we shall be no worse
off than other people, who have to make the best of things as they find
them."
"No doubt--no doubt--that iss the true an' pheelosophical way to look at
the matter. But don't you think, Taniel, that it would be as well to
putt off till our munister arrives? I would not be havin' my daughter
marrit without a munister if I can help it. An' you know his Lordship
has promised more than wance to send us wan. He will not be long o'
coming now."
"Yes, a minister has been promised again an' again," returned Dan,
somewhat bitterly, "an' I suppose he will go on promising again and over
again, but I have not much faith in these promises. The Earl has too
many agents who are not as true as himself. I would rather not delay my
marriage on that account. What ails you at Mr Sutherland?"
"Well, Taniel, I hev nothing to say against Muster Sutherland. He iss a
ferry goot man--I will not be denyin' that, but--he iss not an ordained
munister."
"What of that?" retorted Dan. "He is an ordained elder of the Church of
Scotland, and that is much the same thing. And he is a good, Christian
man, respected by every one in the Settlement."
"Well, well, Taniel; hev it your own way," returned old Duncan with a
resigned look. "Of course, it would have been pleesanter if he had been
a regular munister, whatever; but, as you say, my boy, `what of that?'
So, as things look a little more peaceable than they wass--though not
ferry much--I will be--"
He was interrupted at this point by the sudden entrance of Jacques
Bourassin with the astounding intelligence that a band of North-Westers
had gone up the Settlement to attack Fort Garry.
"Hoot! nonsense, man!" exclaimed old McKay, starting up and flinging his
pipe away in the excitement of the moment.
"No--not nonsense!" said Bourassin in broken English; "it be true. I
knows it. I come to say that we go to the fort to help them."
"Right, boy, right!" exclaimed the old man, hastily belting on his
capote. "Fergus! Tuncan!--Elspie! where are these boys?"
"In the stable, father. I saw them just--"
"Let them saddle all the nags--quick," cried the old man. "Taniel, you
better--"
He stopped; for Daniel had already run out to saddle and mount his own
horse.
In a few minutes a cavalcade of a dozen powerful young fellows, headed
by old Duncan McKay, and armed with guns, were galloping at full speed
in the direction of Fort Garry.
But before this cavalcade had set out, the rencontre at the fort had
already taken place, and been fatally decided.
The approach of the enemy had been announced to those nearest the scene
of action by the women and children of that part of the Settlement, who
were seen running about in frantic alarm trying to hide themselves, and
some of them seeking refuge in the fort.
Among these were two brothers named Sinclair. One of them, Archie by
name, was a stout healthy fellow of twelve or thereabouts, the other was
a thin delicate boy of ten, whose illness, whatever it was, had reduced
him to skin and bone, taken all the colour out of his cheeks, and
rendered him quite unable to run or play like other boys. They had
recently become orphans, their father and mother, who were among the
most recent arrivals, having died suddenly within a few weeks of each
other. When the alarm of the threatened attack was given, the brothers
were amusing themselves on the sunny side of the cottage which had been
for only one year their happy home.
In a moment Archie took his brother on his back and scampered away with
him to a place near the river, and hid him in a hollow under the bank,
where they had been wont to play at grizzly bears and hunters.
Meanwhile Governor Semple, with several gentlemen and attendants, walked
out to meet the party of half-breeds and Indians, not to offer battle,
but for the purpose of parlance and conciliation. It is admitted,
however, that Governor Semple committed a grave error of judgment in
allowing his small party to carry arms. They numbered only twenty-eight
in all, and, being untrained, could have had no chance in an open fight
with such opponents. If the Governor had gone out unarmed with only one
or two attendants, he would, it was thought, have appealed irresistibly
to the honour of the party.
As it was, when the Hudson's Bay party drew near they thought the look
of their opponents so suspicious that the Governor halted his men, and
they stood in a group as if in consultation. Seeing this, the
half-breeds divided themselves into two bodies, and commenced firing
from behind some willows--at first a shot or two, and then a merciless
volley. No fewer than twenty-one of the twenty-eight fell to rise no
more, among whom were the Governor himself; Mr Wilkinson, his
secretary: Captain Rogers, a mineralogist; Mr White, the surgeon; Mr
Holt, of the Swedish navy, and Mr McLean, a principal settler.
Indeed the whole party would have probably been killed and the settlers
massacred at that time, but for the courageous interposition of the
chief of the half-breeds, Cuthbert Grant, who, at the risk of his life,
stood between the settlers and their foes, only one of which last was
killed.
When old McKay and his party drew near to the scene, the massacre was
completed, and most of his little band--which had been slightly
augmented on the way up--turned right-about, and rode away to defend
their respective homes.
But the warrior spirit of old McKay and his sons had been roused. They
refused to turn tail, and, in company with Dan and Peter Davidson, made
a furious charge into a detached party of the half-breeds which they
chanced to encounter. They scattered them like sheep, though they did
not succeed in killing any. Then they also wheeled round and galloped
back to their respective homes.
"Come, Elspie, tear," said the old man as he dismounted, "putt what ye
value most in your pocket an' come away. The duvles are down on us, and
we are not able to hold out in Ben Nevis. The settlers must choin
altogether, an' do the best we can to defend ourselves."
While he was speaking, the Highlander was busy stuffing some of the
smaller of his household goods into his pockets--amongst them a large
quantity of tobacco.
Meanwhile Fergus hastened to the stable to saddle Vixen for Elspie,
while the poor girl ran to her room and secured some small objects which
she valued--among them a miniature portrait of her mother, and a Bible
which the good lady had given to her a short time before her death.
There was no money, and no valuable documents had to be looked after, so
that preparations for fight were soon completed.
Now there was a member of old Duncan McKay's household who has not yet
been introduced to the reader, but whose character and influence in the
household were such as to demand special notice. This member was an old
woman named Peg. Probably this was an abbreviation of Peggy, but we
cannot tell. Neither can we say what her surname was, for we never
heard it, and no one spoke of the old creature by any other name than
that of "Old Peg."
Although Old Peg was by no means feeble--indeed, judged by her
capacities, she might have been pronounced middle-aged, for she could
walk about the house all day, actively engaged in miscellaneous
self-imposed duties, and could also eat like a man and sleep like a
dormouse--she was, nevertheless, withered, and wrinkled, and grey, and
small. Her exact age nobody knew--and, for the matter of that, nobody
seemed to care.
Extreme amiability and self-obliteration were the chief characteristics
of Old Peg. She was silent by nature, and deaf as a post--whether by
art or nature we know not; probably both. Well, no--on second thoughts,
not quite as deaf as a post, for by means of severe shouting she could
be made to hear.
Smiles and nods, however, were her chief means of communication with the
outer world. When these failed, a yell might be tried with advantage.
No one of the McKay household ever thought of giving Old Peg anything in
the shape of work to do, for the very good reason that, being an
extremely willing horse, she was always working; and she possessed a
peculiar faculty of observation, which enabled her to perceive, long
before any one else, what ought to be done, and the right time to do it,
so that, when any one bounced round with the sudden intention of telling
her to do anything, Old Peg was found to have done it already, or to be
in the act of doing it. It is almost superfluous to say that she
patched and mended the household garments, washed the most of things
washable, sewed the sewable, darned the sock, and, generally, did-up the
whole McKay family. When not engaged in definite or specific work, she
had a chronic sock-knitting which helped to fill up and round off the
corners of her leisure hours.
Old Peg had been the nurse, consecutively, of Fergus, Elspie, and Duncan
junior. She was now equivalent to their second mother, having nursed
their first mother to the end with faithful untiring affection, and
received from the dying woman a solemn commission never to forsake
Duncan senior or his progeny.
No sentiment of a religious nature ever escaped Old Peg, but it was
observed that she read her Bible regularly, and was occasionally found
asleep on her knees--greatly to the amusement of that irritable old
rascal, Duncan senior, and to the gratification of Elspie, who came to
the conclusion that the old woman must have learned well off by heart
such words as--"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do; do it with thy
might." "Do good to all men as thy hand findeth opportunity." "Be
clothed with humility." "Trust in the Lord at all times." Probably
Elspie was right, for she judged of people in the old-fashioned way,
namely, "by their fruits." Her judgment of the two Duncans on this
principle, by the way, could not have been very exalted, but we cannot
tell. She was much too loyal and loving a daughter and sister to give
any sign or opinion.
At the time of the sudden call to flight just described, the McKay
family had totally forgotten Old Peg in their hurry. Elspie was the
first to miss her.
"Old Peg!" she exclaimed--almost screamed--while Fergus was assisting
her to mount Vixen, "where is she?"
"I'll find her," said Fergus, "and bring her on in the cart. You be off
after father. We've no time to lose."
"Be _sure_ you bring her, Fergus," said Elspie.
"All right; no fear!"
Thus assured, Elspie was about to gallop away after her father--who had
started in advance, to overtake and stop the Prairie Cottage family, so
that they might travel in one band--when the clatter of hoofs was heard,
and next moment Dan Davidson galloped round the corner of the house.
"I came back for you, Elspie," he said, pulling up. "Why did you not
come on with your father?"
"I expected to overtake him, Dan. You know Vixen is swift. Besides, I
missed Old Peg, and delayed a few minutes on her account. Is she with
your party?"
"No--at least I did not see her. But she may have been in the cart with
Louise. Shall I look for her while you gallop on?"
"No; Fergus has promised to find and bring her after us. Come, I am
ready."
The two galloped away. As they did so young Duncan issued from the
stable behind the house, leading out his horse. He was in no hurry,
having a good mount. At the same time Fergus came out at the back-door
of the house shouting, "Old Peg! Hallo! old woman, where are ye?"
"Hev ye seen her, Duncan?" he asked impatiently.
"It iss seekin' high an' low I hev been, an' it iss of no use shoutin',
for she hears nothin'."
"I'm sure I saw her in the cart wi' the Davidsons," said Duncan.
"Are you sure?" asked Fergus.
"Weel, I did not pass quite close to them, as I ran up here for my horse
on hearin' the news," replied Duncan; "but I am pretty sure that I saw
her sittin' beside Louise."
"Hm! that accoonts for her not being here," said Fergus, running into
the stable. "Hold on a bit, Duncan. I'll go with ye in a meenit."
In the circumstances he was not long about saddling his horse. A few
minutes more, and the brothers were galloping after their friends, who
had got a considerable distance in advance of them by that time, and
they did not overtake them till a part of the Settlement was reached
where a strong muster of the settlers was taking place, and where it was
resolved to make a stand and face the foe.
Here it was discovered, to the consternation of the McKay family, that
Old Peg was not with the Davidson party, and that therefore she must
have been left behind!
"She _must_ be found and rescued," exclaimed Elspie, on making the
discovery.
"She _must_!" echoed Dan Davidson: "who will go back with me?"
A dozen stout young fellows at once rode to the front, and old McKay
offered to take command of them, but was overruled and left behind.