THROUGH THE BLIZZARD.
Winter came, and Charley learned to use the heavy axe, which added to
the breadth of his shoulders, as he whirled it round his head hewing
birch-logs for fuel in the bluff. The stove glowed red hot by night
and day, and they slept under rugs of skin in an upper room through
which its iron chimney ran, for all the way across that great lonely
land, from Hudson's Bay to the River Missouri, winter is nearly
Arctic on the prairie. Then there were long sleigh rides over the
snow to the little railway town for provisions--for the men who work
like giants acquire gigantic appetites--and cosy evenings spent
beside the stove, when their sister Alice, who had come out from
England to keep house, read to them.
Frost flowers crusted the windows, and outside the coyotes howled as
they sought shelter in the birch-bluff from the bitter cold, but it
was very snug and warm within.
Winter passed, as even the longest winters do, and the bleached
grasses peeped out through the melting snow, turned green for a few
weeks and grew white again early in the hot summer; but Arthur Gordon
lost his crop that year.
A few nights of autumn frost shrivelled up the grain. Still he and
Charley only worked the harder, hoping for better fortune, and
breaking more land to make up for the loss next season, though
sometimes Alice sighed as she noticed the troubled look in her
brother's eyes when he turned over his accounts. If a crop fails on
the prairie the settler and his family must live very sparingly
during the following year, and two bad harvests may ruin him
altogether.
Winter came round once more, and one afternoon Charley and his
brother stood dressed in long skin coats in the unpaved streets of a
railway town. Frost and sun had tanned their faces almost to the
colour of oak, and their frames were nearly as strong, for it is not
in soft warm climates where life is easy that white men thrive best.
Biting cold and sturdy labour harden instead of weaken them. The
shingled roofs were white above them, and beyond the tall elevators
where the wheat is stored, a lonely wilderness, which had a curious
blue-white glimmer, stretched back towards the grey horizon with
little huffs of snow dust racing across it. Presently Arthur raised
his fur cap when they passed a store, in which one could purchase
everything, from tinned provisions or a necktie, to a plough. A lady
muffled in splendid furs sat inside a sleigh at its door, and Charley
blushed with pleasure when she smiled at him graciously. This was
Miss Armadale, their friend of the steamer, who lived with her father
at Barholm Grange, one of the largest farms in that part of Canada.
Arthur lingered a moment beside the sleigh, and then bowed, as
another sleigh passed him slowly, when he walked away.
There were two people in it, and one, a grim-faced old man whom
Charley knew was Colonel Armadale, stared straight at his brother
without noticing him, after which Charley heard him say to his
younger companion, who tried to hide a smile, "Settler Gordon has
shown considerable presumption, and I have warned Lilian not to
encourage him. The last time he came I tried to make it plain that
it was blind foolishness for a man like, him with three hundred poor
acres, and a few half-starved cattle, to grow interested in my
daughter." Then he called out, "Send your bill along, storekeeper,
and if you charge as much for your rubbish as you did last time, I'll
start a store of my own. My hogs won't eat some of the decayed tin
goods you palm off on me. Lilian, come on when you're ready and
overtake us at the crossing. Our sleigh is loaded, and I don't like
the signs of the weather."
Charley felt hot and angry, and he noticed the store-keeper frowned,
though he answered nothing, for Colonel Armadale was the richest and
worst-tempered man in all that district, while Arthur, who had set
his lips tight, sighed as the loaded sleigh moved out and grew
smaller across the prairie. Presently Lilian Armadale followed, and
the store-keeper said, "A nice, quiet man to talk to, he is; guess
one would never think that sweet-tempered girl was the daughter of
yonder surly old bear. Wants to marry her to the man with him--some
British relative. But she doesn't like him, the boys were saying.
He's not much to look at any way, even if he is rich. Well, you just
hold on; Miss Armadale is worth it, and those over-fed horses of his
will break old Cast-iron's neck for him some day, and except Miss
Lily nobody will be sorry. Say, has it struck you a blizzard's
coming along?"
"If I ever hear you talk in that way again there will be trouble
between you and me," was Arthur's sharp answer. "Charley, you had
better ride on--there are signs of a snowstorm--and if I don't catch
you before you reach the crossing, make straight for home. When will
those things be ready, store-keeper?"
Charley was glad to obey, for he was chilled all through, and so by
and by there were four moving specks upon the prairie, hidden from
one another by the low rises which looked at a distance like the
waves of a frozen sea. It was bitterly cold, and puffs of icy wind
hurled stinging white crystals into his half-frozen face, until he
drew down the flaps of his fur cap to meet his big collar. The horse
did its best, for there are times when dumb beasts are wiser than
men, and it knew a snowstorm was coming, so the hoofs hurled up the
dusty snow, while the clumps of dwarf willows which rushed past
showed how fast they were travelling. Then there was only a great
level desolation which looked as if no one had lived in it since the
beginning of the world, until at last he reached the straggling woods
which marked the crossing.
Here again the prairie rolled in broken rises; it was a little warmer
in the shelter of the trees, and Charley checked his horse when he
found Miss Armadale holding her impatient team under the edge of a
big ravine. Prairie streams generally run in a hollow like a deep
railway cutting, and this one was larger than usual, while the little
river which flowed through the bottom was not hard frozen yet, for
winter had just begun and the trees sheltered it. Still, looking
down between the scattered silver-barked birches which clothed the
slope on either side, he could see the glimmer of black ice below,
and, because the narrow trail bent to make the descent less steep, a
rough log bridge without a parapet, some distance to the right.
"Did you see my father on the way?" asked the lady; and when Charley
answered, "No," she added, "Perhaps he passed me behind the long
ridge, though I don't think so. You know, the one with the sledge
trail on both sides of it. I'm afraid there's a big storm coming.
Where is your brother, Charley?"
She stood up in the sleigh looking back across the prairie, and
Charley thought she was even prettier than his sister Alice, while
there was something he liked in her voice and kindly eyes, and he
felt it would be a pleasure to do anything for her. But nothing
moved on the prairie except the whirling drifts, for the wind, which
grew even colder, was fast rising now, while already daylight was
fading, and the birches moaned eerily. Then he grew suddenly afraid,
because there are times when even strong men realise their feebleness
before the great powers of nature, and he knew that it often means
death to be caught in the rush of a blizzard on the open prairie.
The horses knew it, too, for the sleigh team snorted, while Miss
Armadale shivered as she said, "I dare not wait any longer. Tell
your brother to make for the Grange; you will never get home in time.
No--I am forgetting--he must not come." Then, with a heightened
colour in her cheeks, and a curious ring in her voice, she added,
"Yes--you will bring him. It might cost his life to cross the
prairie to-night."
There was a patter of hoofs behind them, but even as Charley turned
round, the sleigh-team bolted, and leaving the narrow trail, charged
headlong down the slope. Then Charley, remembering that the
half-frozen river would not bear the weight of that load, urged his
own horse after them. Miss Armadale stood upright, clenching the
reins, her slight figure swaying before him among the scattered
trees, which fortunately grew well apart, but the team were going
their own way, the straightest to the bottom, and he shuddered when
the sleigh drove crashing against a trunk. Even if the vehicle was
not wrecked before it reached it, the muddy creek, like most prairie
streams, was deep. But though the fur-robed figure sank down
suddenly the sleigh went on as though uninjured, while Charley
shouted, "Try to turn them towards the bridge. I am coming to help
you."
He drove his horse at a willow bush, and the beast went through it
with a bound; birch-twigs lashed his face like whips, and once a
branch struck his forehead so that it bled, while jumbled all
together the trunks rushed past. But he was overtaking the sleigh,
and old Peter had taught him to ride half-broken broncos without
either stirrups or saddle, holding on by his knees. This was
painful, and sometimes dangerous work, but few things worth having
can be got easily, and the skill he had acquired so hardly was very
useful now, for without it he would never have come safely down that
steep, tree-cumbered descent.
The wind screamed past him, there was a haze of falling snow, and as
he dashed by he saw for a moment the drawn, white face of the lady in
the sleigh. Then bending down he clutched at, and gripped the reins
close in to the bit beside one horse's head, and afterwards saw
nothing clearly. There was only an uncertain vision of flying trees,
a mad thunder of hoofs, and the sleigh lurching behind him like a
ship at sea. It bounced clear of the earth in places, while the
black ice streaked with snow seemed rushing towards them from below.
White powder rose in clouds from about the hissing steel runners and,
mingling with the steam of the horses, filled his staring eyes. Then
a mounted figure shot out from among the trees, swayed sideways in
the saddle by the other horse's head, and his brother's voice rang
out----
"Hold fast for your life, Lilly; you cannot turn them now! It won't
bear us all. Charley--let go!"
[Illustration: "HE CLUTCHED AT AND GRIPPED ONE HORSE'S HEAD, AND
AFTERWARDS SAW NOTHING CLEARLY"]
Charley, who had learned the useful lesson of swift obedience, loosed
his hold, and struggled for a few moments to rein in his horse; then,
trembling with excitement, watched the sleigh charge on down the
slope towards the river. He knew Arthur was trusting that the pace
they travelled at would carry them across before the ice broke
through. He watched the sleigh shoot out from the bank, then there
was a sharp crackle, and he caught his breath as Arthur's floundering
horse disappeared from view. It had struck a weaker place, or
stumbled, and the treacherous slippery covering had yielded beneath
it. But his brother, flinging himself from the saddle, had already
clutched the sleigh, and Charley shouted with relief when he saw him
stand up in it grasping the reins, while a few seconds later the team
crashed through the willows by the water's edge on the farther side,
and drew clear of the dangerous ice. Charley felt almost dizzy now
the crisis had passed, for he knew the horses could not run away up
the opposite slope.
Then the snow thickened, there was a roaring among the branches, and
the daylight went out, while when he reached the river he could
hardly see the hole in the ice under which the current had doubtless
sucked the unfortunate horse. He crossed by the bridge, but the
whole air was filled with driving snow, while broken twigs were
hurled about him by the sudden gale, and when he reached the level
there was only thick whirling whiteness ahead. It filled his eyes
and nostrils, deadened his hearing, and almost took his breath away;
he could not even see the trees, and let the horse go its own way
until it nearly walked into what looked like a white bear and was a
man on foot. By the voice he recognised Colonel Armadale's
companion, who shouted----
"Where is the team that ran away? We could see you from a distance."
"I don't know," said Charley. "Haven't seen them for ten minutes.
More to the right, I think;" and the other, grasping his horse's
bridle, said, "Come back, and tell him," while by-and-by they reached
a sleigh in which an upright figure sat sheeted with snow. He
guessed it must be Colonel Armadale.
Then the old man said, in a tone that seemed less sharp than usual,
though the roar of the gale prevented the lad from hearing plainly,
"You are young Gordon, are you not? My daughter would have been
drowned long before we could have reached the ravine--we crossed
before her somehow--but for your brother's good sense and gallantry.
Not seen them since? It's hardly surprising. Let your horse go, and
get into the sleigh. No, Lawrence--come back, d'you hear?"
The other man appeared to demur, saying something which sounded like,
"I must try to find them, sir," but Colonel Armadale turned upon him
angrily.
"Come back, you idiot!" he repeated. "Nobody could find them, and
even if you could your extra weight would hamper them unnecessarily.
Your brother should know the prairie well, eh, Gordon?"
"Yes, sir," said Charley, who felt bitter against the speaker for his
rudeness to Arthur, "but I'm going straight home and won't get in."
"Get in at once!" said Colonel Armadale. "You would be frozen stiff
long before you reached your home. Lily's team can find their own
way to the stables; these western horses are like pigeons--that is,
if your brother has the sense to let them. We can do nothing but
trust our own to do the same, and it's considerably safer under the
sleigh robes than it is in the saddle. Let them go, Lawrence. We
have not a minute to lose."
Charley loosed his horse, which followed the sleigh; and then for
what seemed ages the beasts blundered through a whirling cloud of
snow that grew thicker and thicker, while the awful cold chilled the
lad to the backbone. Still, he knew Colonel Armadale was right, and
protected by the thick robes, he could just keep alive, though he
would certainly have frozen in the saddle. But, at last, when he
could hardly either speak or see, a dim brightness flickered ahead,
voices hailed them, and he fell half-fainting over the threshold into
the glare of a great fire that burned in the log-built hall of
Barholm Grange. Someone who took his skin coat away brought him hot
coffee and food, and when he had eaten and grown accustomed to the
temperature, the grim, white-haired colonel made him sit beside the
stove in a big hide-covered chair. Still, there was an unusually
gentle look in his stern eyes now, and presently Charley, whose head
was swimming, found him talking to him confidentially, until the
colonel said abruptly, "So your brother was an officer--what made him
start farming without capital on the prairie?"
Charley explained at some length as well as he could, and when he had
finished the old man said, "H'm, I see. Well, he has been a good
brother and done his duty to you. Never suspected he had so much in
him, and that he held Her Majesty's Commission is news to me. At
least, he is a courageous gentleman, and I am indebted to both of
you."
After this he paced fiercely to and fro, while the icy wind howled
about the building, shaking it until the logs it was made of
trembled, and its wooden roofing shingles strained and clattered
overhead. Thicker and thicker, with a heavy thudding the snow drove
against the double windows, until it seemed that nothing living could
escape destruction upon the open prairie. So presently Charley, who
felt his strength returning, said----
"I can sit still no longer. You must please lend me a horse, sir,
and I will go to look for them."
"Sit down again," answered the Colonel. "Ay, you have learned
obedience. Do you think that if there was any small chance of
finding them I would loiter here while my only daughter struggles in
peril of her life somewhere out there in this awful snow? There are
times, my lad, when the boldest man is helpless, and your brother's
only hope is to trust the instinct given as a compensation to every
dumb beast. No, we can only wait, and to wait with patience is
considerably harder than doing risky things, as you will find some
day."
After that the time passed very slowly, and the storm grew, if
possible, fiercer, until somebody shouted, and they stood holding the
great door open in the hall, and staring, with eyes that watered,
into the maze of whirling drift outside. The snow blew along, fine
as powder, in blinding clouds like smoke.
"Thank heaven!" said Colonel Armadale, as dim shapes, which might
have been either beasts or men, loomed out through the whiteness. He
ran forward holding up a lantern, Charley followed, and was
immediately blown headlong into a drift, while when he scrambled out
of it Arthur staggered past. He was crusted with the wind-packed
powder into a formless object, and reeled blindly into the hall with
a burden, which afterwards transpired to be Lilian Armadale, who had
fainted in his arms. Then Charley slipped out of the way, for
everyone was busy doing something for the two nearly frozen
travellers, while, when Arthur appeared later in borrowed garments,
Colonel Armadale met him with outstretched hands.
"You have done me a great service--a service I can never repay; and
you are very welcome to Barholme," he said. "We must try to be
better friends than we have been--in the future."
Charley thought the last words hardly explained the position, for he
considered that nobody could have called Colonel Armadale's previous
conduct friendly at all, but he was glad when his brother took the
outstretched hand, for the older man's lips trembled under his long
moustache. Then he was led into a snug matchboarded room, and sank
into a deep sleep which lasted ten hours on end. They stayed at the
Grange all the next day, and Arthur afterwards told Charley that Miss
Armadale would have spoiled him altogether had he stayed any longer;
then, after a friendly parting with the colonel, they rode home
again, while as their horses picked their way through the drifts
Arthur said, "Charley, I am afraid I have given way to foolish pride.
Colonel Armadale wanted to pay me for the horse I lost, and I would
not let him. It was worse than foolish, when we have Alice and
Reggie to think of, and have lost all the crop."
"I am glad you did it," said the lad, flinging back his head. "It
would look too much like being paid for kindness, and even if we are
poor I couldn't have taken the money." Then he sighed, for he
noticed his brother's face grew care-worn, and guessed that the
thought of the coming year troubled him. But Arthur only said,
half-aloud, "It was foolish; I had no right to refuse. Still, bad
luck can't last for ever, and it may all come right some day."
It was late when they reached their own homestead, which rose up, a
few snow-backed mounds out of the prairie, looking very mean and
small after the fine buildings of Barholm Grange. Charley told Alice
what had happened, but she said nothing, though she glanced at her
elder brother sympathetically. He also told Peter, adding, "I think
the Colonel is a much nicer man than he looks, when one gets to know
him."
"That's as may be," answered old Peter, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Nathless, he's seldom over civil, an' is just filled with
stiff-necked pride. Ye'll mark that kind o' spirit prepares its own
humbling. Do ye mind what happened when I first trained ye an' ye
would not sweep the stable? Ay, ye were vain as ony peacock then.
Fine white hands like a young lady's ye had. Noo, there's a faint
promise that some day we may make ye intil a man."
But Charley laughed good-humouredly, and flinging a broom at him by
way of playful compliment, ran out suddenly. He had already realised
that Peter had taught him many things worth knowing, and he had
discovered in Canada that it is much better to be able to do useful
work than live daintily at somebody else's expense. He had seen a
few rich men in the Dominion, who financed railroads and owned great
flour mills, but could nevertheless hew a building log, or carry a
grain bag, as well as any of their labourers. Arthur said, "Men like
these are the backbone which stiffens the country."