I am to be Mrs. Bang and am reconciled. Fate has spoken and all
sensibilities have been matched by Fate. And oh! what an adventure was
ours. Has all history such another tale to tell? I know now what my hate
for Jack meant; it was the fight my spirit put up against his spirit.
But his has now the mastery and I love him. After all, I believe a
woman’s greatest privilege is to love. It is so much more blessed to
give than to receive. How infinite is the philosophy of the Bible!
As I held his poor, lacerated head in my lap in the depths of the forest
last night, I gave up my soul. He murmured, “You have saved my life,”
and I felt it was true. It was all so tragic, so terrible, so glorious.
As I lie in bed propped up in pillows, my own head bandaged, I can see
them now, savage, furious, bristling beasts—the World, the Flesh and
the Devil. What power they held, what fury, hate, and passion! How vast
is the scope of nature.
Jack and I went to Napoleon’s cabin and had lunch and then it began to
snow and we tarried. And then the snow stopped and we set out, and the
wolves came. How my blood ran chill as I heard their howling coming near
and nearer. We were too far from Napoleon’s cabin to retreat, besides
their howlings came from our rear.
I suppose I have no right to call old Devil by that name, as he was
leader of the pack, but it fitted him so well.
There was no hesitation in his movements. As an arrow from a twanging
bow-string he sprang at Jack’s throat. Of course, I only call them the
World, the Flesh, and the Devil for the purposes of this narrative. I am
not trying to turn my diary into an allegory. They were all devils, but
I must individualize them. Devil was the biggest, strongest, fiercest.
When Jack learned by the howling of the wolves they were on our trail,
he armed himself with a great club, and after arming me with a smaller
club, he lifted me into the branches of a birch tree. Then he took up
his stand, my defender, my savior, my hero. He stood with his back
against the tree trunk.
His views of life are so noble, so broad, so profound. I have told him
everything, that is, almost all about everything. This, of course, is
since the fight. His comment was so far-reaching, so generous.
Folly visits most homes and most individuals sometimes in our lives. The
thing is to come through it, and having come through it not to be worse
than when going in, for we must be wiser. Our grip on life is stronger.
To have made an error in younger life and to recognize that error makes
us surer-footed on the trail of life, and it gives us a measure of our
powers of resistance.
And then I told him the real climax of my life, which is the climax of
this story, came to me last Thursday as I sat in the Senate Chamber.
Then the spirit of my ancestor spoke as it never spoke before. Then I
made my choice; then I realized Society was indeed the folly of the age.
To this he replied with the question:
“Can you wonder the Chinese worship their ancestors? Perhaps we—”
“Perhaps we may drop Christianity for ancestor—”
“It is not necessary to drop Christianity. Christianity is not
incompatible with ancestor-worship.”
Dear Jack!
Darkness was settling down over the scene and Devil’s eyes gleamed fire
as he came. And so did the eyes of World and Flesh, for the three were
in the air at the same time. Three pairs of jaws snapped together like
steel traps, pitilessly. Oh! the cruelty of those jaws.
As the three snapped their jaws, Jack’s club swung round and they were
hurled away. In the attack Devil sprang at Jack with Flesh at his left
and World at his right. Jack’s club caught Flesh behind the ear and made
him feel very sorry. And World and Devil sat on their haunches and
snapped.
Jack glared at the wolves and the wolves glared at Jack. I called to
him: “Jack, why do you not come up into the tree with me?” It was the
first time I had ever called him Jack.
“That would not do, for if we stayed in the tree very long we should
freeze to death. I must stay below and fight for us both, dear.”
My hero!
World and Devil sat at a distance and licked their chops, while Flesh
wandered about with his head bent low.
What woman knowing she was loved by such a man could help returning his
love. We were primitive, and I’ve heard love is primitive, back through
the ages to when man had little but his superior intelligence to guard
his love.
As Flesh regained his senses, the three threshed about up and down and
then they sprang, this time Devil coming at my foot. Of course, it was
all fancy, but I fancied I felt his hot breath. I foiled his attempt
while Jack managed to hit him over the back. It was not a very hard blow
as its force was spent ere it reached him, it having actually been aimed
at the other two.
Darkness was settling fast, and this fact increased my horror. Jack
enquired if I were cold. I answered, no. This was between the howling of
the wolves. Jack asked me if I could climb higher into the tree. I
replied I could not. Then he told me to pluck from the tree all the
loose bark I could and roll it into bundles. This I did as the wolves
held a longer council of war. They circled round and round the tree,
ugly, grey, devilish, watchful brutes. Jack told me to undo the sash I
wore round my waist and lower it to him. This I did, and then he told me
to shout and wave my arms to attract the wolves’ attention. When I did
as he requested, he drew his knife and his match-box from his pocket
and, placing his club between his knees, tied them into the end of the
sash and told me to hoist away. With the knife I managed to secure a
much greater quantity of birch bark. I asked if I should light any of
the bark, but Jack said no, as it was no use driving the wolves away
unless we beat them. By this he meant that should we merely frighten
them into the forest depths we were still their prisoners. The bark was
to be for an emergency.
The wolves crept closer, ever watchful, the cruel beasts! Their howlings
and the snap, snap of their teeth seemed to grow louder and more
frequent. Suddenly they sprang, Devil at Jack’s throat. Jack had swung
his club in order to guard me; this caused his left shoulder to remain
unprotected. Devil seized it in his fangs. Fortunately Jack had been
able to throw up his left elbow to protect his neck, but over he went.
Quick as lightning the other two were on him.
I lighted the birch bark, and with it flaming in my hand, dropped into
the midst of the raging, struggling pack. Oh! the glory of it—to rescue
the man I loved—and, incidentally, to save my own life, for I did not
know then that Napoleon was on his way to our rescue.
First in the face of one, then in the face of another I flung the
flaming bark, and screamed and shouted. The smell of singeing hair
sickened me, but it frightened them away. Although they had tasted
blood, dear Jack’s blood, they drew off. And then I remembered. I placed
the flaming bark against the birch tree; it burst into flames; the
forest round about was lighted up, and then I knelt by the side of my
lover.
Napoleon came. His rifle rang out. Devil at least was dead.
And now I have Jack, my Jack! The Mounts and the Liens and all that
vulgar, selfish, self-advertising, wasteful crowd; they are nothing
. . . .
Mrs. Bang!
THE END
Toronto: T. H. Best Printing Co., Limited