Autumn at length gradually drew to a close, and we began to make
preparations for the long winter that lay before us.
Our saw-mill, having been repaired and improved, had worked so well that
we had cut a considerable quantity of planks, as well for the boats
which we intended to build as for the houses. It was fortunate that
this had been accomplished before the occurrence of an event which put
an effectual stop to that branch of our industries. It happened thus:
One afternoon the fine weather which we had been enjoying so long gave
place to boisterous winds and deluges of rain, confining us all to the
fort and making us feel slightly miserable.
"But we mustn't grumble, Max," said Lumley to me, as we looked out of
our small windows. "We must take the evil with the good as it comes,
and be thankful."
"Please, I wasn't grumbling," said I, sharply.
"No? I thought you were."
"No, I was not. It must have been internal grumbling by yourself that
you heard," I retorted, sauntering back to the fire, which by that time
we had begun to light daily.
"I daresay you're right, Max; it has often struck me as a curious fact
that, when one is cross or grumpy, he is apt to think all the rest of
the world is also cross or grumpy. By the way, that reminds me--though
I don't see why it should remind me, seeing that the two things have no
connection--that Coppet came to me last night saying he had discovered a
slight leak in the dam. We'd better look to it now, as the rain seems
to have moderated a little."
We went out forthwith, and found Coppet already on the spot, gazing at a
small rill of water which bubbled up from behind a mass of rock that
jutted out from the cliff and formed a support for the beams of our dam.
"Something wrong there, Coppet," said Lumley, inspecting the place
carefully.
"Oui, monsieur--it is true."
"Can you guess where it comes through?" I asked.
"Vraiment, monsieur, I know not, but surely the dam it is quite strong."
"Strong!--of course it is, unnecessarily strong," said I, looking up at
its edge, over which the water, rendered muddy by the rains, flowed in a
considerable volume. "What think you, Lumley?"
I asked my friend's opinion somewhat anxiously, because I observed that
he seemed to examine the place with unusually grave looks.
"Max," he said at last, "your engineering is defective. It is true that
the beams and stuffs of which the dam is composed could resist all the
weight or force of water that can be brought to bear on them--even an
untrained eye like mine can see that--but you had not observed that this
mass of rock, against which the whole affair rests, has got a crack in
it, so that it is partially, if not altogether, detached from the cliff.
No doubt it is a large heavy mass, but the strain upon it must be very
severe, and its stability depends on its foundations."
"The foundations seem secure enough," said I, looking down.
"True, but natural foundations are sometimes deceptive, and that
bubbling spring may be quietly washing these away. We must use a little
art here. Go, Coppet," he added, turning to the carpenter, "fetch all
the men, and your tools, and as many heavy timbers as you can readily
lay hands on. Come, Max, help me to lift this one."
The decision of Lumley's manner and the energetic way in which he threw
off his coat and set to work, convinced me that he thought danger of
some sort was impending. I therefore followed his example, and set to
with a will.
We fixed a heavy log in front of the suspected mass of rock, placing its
end against the centre of the mass, and sinking the other end into the
ground--having previously, however, sunk a strong crossbeam into the
ground to bear the pressure of that end.
"This of itself," said my chief, "will go far to avert evil, but we will
adopt your tactics, Max, and, by giving it superabundance of strength,
make assurance doubly sure."
In pursuance of this plan, he ordered the men to plant several ponderous
logs in the same position as the first beam, over which other logs were
thrown crosswise, and the whole was weighted with heavy stones.
During our operations, which occupied us all till evening, the rain
increased tenfold, and at last came down in absolute sheets, flooding
our dam to such an extent that it overflowed nearly all round the brim
in pretty solid cataracts of dirty water, which brought down branches
and leaves and other debris from the higher parts of the stream.
I was gratified to see, however, that our embankment showed no symptoms
of weakness, and felt assured that the powerful structure we had just
set up was more than sufficient to prevent any rupture in the rock
itself. Comforted by these thoughts, Lumley and I returned to the hall
in a burst of thunder, lightning, and rain--thoroughly saturated, and in
a condition to do ample justice to the sea-biscuit, fried salt-pork,
hung whitefish and tea, which Salamander had prepared for supper.
Blondin, being a polite, intelligent fellow as well as our foreman, was
privileged to take his meals with us, besides occupying one of our four
rooms. In consequence of this we conversed chiefly in the patois French
of the country, for the worthy man was not deeply learned in English.
Salamander messed with the men in their own house, after preparing and
spreading our meals.
"What say you to a game of chess?" said Lumley to me, after the
tea-things had been carried away by Blondin.
"By all means," I replied, going to a corner cupboard, in which we kept
miscellaneous articles, and bringing out the chess-board.
This board and its men, by the way, merit passing remark, for they were
fashioned by our chief entirely, and very neatly, out of the pith of a
bush, the name of which I forget; and, on the voyage, many an hour that
might otherwise have been tedious we whiled away with this interesting
game. I knew nothing of it when we began, but Lumley taught me the
moves, and I soon picked up enough of the game to enable me to fight a
fairish battle before being beaten. At first Lumley always won, and was
wont to signalise his victory by the expression of a modest hope that
the tables would be turned ere long. That hope--whether genuine or
pretended--was not long of being gratified, for as my mind by degrees
began to grasp the mysteries of chess, I succeeded in winning a game now
and then.
On this particular night, however, the tables were turned literally, and
in a way that we little expected.
Blondin, being left to himself, had sought the companionship of his
pipe, and was dozing over the fire, more than half asleep--at least not
more awake than was consistent with the keeping of his pipe between his
lips. Ever and anon he was startled into a more wakeful condition by
the tremendous blasts which frequently shook the house; but these did
not disturb him much, for he had helped to build the house, and knew
that it was strong.
We were all indeed pretty well tired by our recent exertions, and rather
sleepy, so that the game languished a little. Salamander, having
obtained permission to retire, was in bed in his own corner-room,
entertaining us with a duet through the nose--if I may call that a duet
in which both nostrils played the same air.
"Check!" said Lumley, rousing himself a little, and placing a knight in
such a position as to endanger my king.
"Mate!" I exclaimed ruefully.
"Hallo!" cried Blondin, waking up at the familiar word.
"No--not that sort of mate," said I, with a laugh, "but the--"
I stopped abruptly, for at that moment we heard a sound that sent a
thrill to our hearts. It was something between a rend and a crash. We
looked at each other in consternation.
"The dam's going," exclaimed Lumley.
Another crash, that there was no misunderstanding, proved that it was
gone.
We ran towards the back door, but before reaching it, we had an
additional proof that was even more convincing than the last. A rush of
tumultuous water was heard outside. Next moment the back door was burst
inward, and a deluge of water met us. Lumley, who was nearest the door,
was swept off his legs, and came against me with such violence that I
fell over him. Blondin, who was furthest off, tried to stop us, but
also went down, and all three were swept into the lower side of the hall
amid a jumble of tables, chairs, billets of wood, stray garments, and
chessmen.
The fire had been put out; so had the candle, and we were thus in nearly
pitch darkness, when we heard a yell from Salamander. It was followed
by a great splash, and we dimly perceived something like a half-naked
ghost floundering towards us.
It was Salamander!
"Hold on!" shouted Lumley.
"Dere's noting to hold on to, monsieur," cried the interpreter in
desperation, as he tripped over something and rose again--gasping.
The rush was over in half a minute, but the great weight of water that
had entered held the front door, which opened inwards, so tight, that
our hall was converted into a water-tank about three feet deep, while a
huge mass of logs and debris outside blocked the opening of the back
door.
"Stay, don't move till I get a light," cried Lumley, wading to the
corner cupboard, where, on an upper shelf, we kept our candles, with
flint, steel, and tinder.
While he was striking a light we all stood silent and shivering, but
when a candle was with difficulty lighted, I burst into an irresistible
fit of laughter for the scene we presented was ludicrous in the extreme.
It was not our woe-begone looks which tickled me, so much as the
helpless, drowned-rat-like aspect we had all assumed--all except our
chief, whose tall, strong figure holding a candle over his dishevelled
head looked like the spirit of destruction presiding over a scene of
desolation.
A rapping at the front door was the first thing that recalled us to the
necessity for action.
"Is it drownded ye all are, Muster Lumley?"
It was the voice of Donald Bane.
"Not quite," cried Lumley, with a laugh and a shiver. "Come in,
Donald."
"Ay, ay, sur, I would come in if I could, but the door won't open."
"Shove hard, Donald."
"I wull, sur. Here, Shames, lend a hand."
We heard both the Highlanders put their broad backs against the door and
groan in Gaelic as they heaved, but they might as well have tried to
lift the house. They caused the door to crack, however.
"Wheesht! What's that Shames?"
"We've splut the toor, Tonald."
"Never mind; heave again, boys," cried Lumley.
At that moment poor Salamander, who was groping about with nothing but
his shirt on, stumbled over something, and, in trying to recover
himself, pitched head first against the door with considerable violence.
This was a climax. The door, although it had withstood the pressure
from without, could not resist this additional pressure within. It
collapsed and burst outwards suddenly. The great mass of water went
forth with the gushing hilarity of a prisoner set free, and, with
something like a roar of triumph, carried Salamander like a chip on its
crest. He was launched into the bosom of the amazed James Dougall, who
incontinently went with the stream, laying hold of and carrying off
Donald Bane as he passed.
After a few turns over on the lawn, the three men regained their
footing, and made their way back to the house, while the stream,
subsiding almost immediately, left us in peace to make the best of what
James Dougall called a paad chob!
What had actually occurred was this: the rock that held the main
supports of our dam, being detached from the cliff as Lumley had
surmised, had been undermined by the unusual floods of the previous
week. Even in that condition it might have remained fast, so strong was
our artificial buttress, but as the foundation wore away the rock heeled
over to one side a little; this deranged the direct action of the
buttresses, and in an instant they flew aside. The rock was hurled
over, and the whole of our dam was dashed in dire confusion into the bed
of the stream. It was this choking of the natural channel which sent
the great flood over our lawn, and, as we have seen, created such a
hubbub in the hall.
Of course all danger was now past. The roaring torrent soon forced its
way into its own bed again, and all we had to do was to repair damages
as well as we could, and make ourselves as comfortable for the night as
circumstances would admit of.
Fortunately the next day was fine and warm, with brilliant sunshine.
Being Sunday we let everything remain just as it was, for Lumley and I
were of the same mind in regard to the Sabbath-day, and, from the
commencement of our expedition, had as far as possible rested from all
week-day labour on that day. Both of us had been trained to do so from
infancy.
Well do I remember my dear old father's last advice to me on this
subject. "Punch," said he, "wherever you go, my boy, `remember the
Sabbath-day to keep it holy.' You'll be tempted to do ordinary work,
and to go in for ordinary amusement on that day, but don't do it, my
boy--don't do it. Depend upon it, a blessing always attends the
respecter of the Sabbath."
"But, father," said I, venturing for the first time in my life to echo
what I had often heard said, "is it true, as some people assert, that
the Sabbath is a Jewish institution, and no longer binding on
Christians? Pardon my venturing to repeat this objection--"
"Objection!" interrupted my father, "why, dear boy, there's nothing I
like better than to hear fair, honest objections, because then I can
meet them. How can the Sabbath be a Jewish institution when the
commandment begins with `remember'? The day to be remembered was
instituted at Creation, given to man as a blessed day of rest from toil,
and recognised as binding by our Saviour, when He sanctioned works of
necessity and mercy on that day."
I never forgot my father's advice on this subject, and have experienced
mental, physical, and spiritual benefit as the result.
Owing to our belief in the Sabbath, then, we invariably, while
travelling, remained in camp on that clay, and found that we not only
did not lose, but actually had gained in speed at the end of each week--
comparing our rate of progress with that of those who did not rest on
Sundays. And I now recall to mind a certain bishop of the Church of
England who, while travelling in the great Nor'-west between two
well-known stations, made the fastest journey on record, although he
regularly remained in camp on the Sabbath-day. On that day, also, after
our arrival at Lake Wichikagan, and all through the winter, Lumley made
a regular practice of assembling the men and reading a sermon from a
book which he had brought for the purpose. And he did not neglect
instruction of another kind, to which I shall refer as well as to our
winter amusements, in the proper place.
During all this time our larder had been well supplied by Blondin with
fresh fish from the lake, and by the Indians with haunches of reindeer
and moose, or elk, venison. They also brought us beaver-meat, the tails
of which were considered the best portions. Bear's-meat was offered us,
but we did not relish it much, possibly from prejudice; but we would
have been glad of it, doubtless, if reduced to short allowance. Of
course wild-fowl of all kinds were plentiful, and many of these were
shot by Lumley and myself, as well as by our men.
Some of the geese we had at first salted, but, the frost having come, we
were by that time able to preserve fish and meat quite fresh for winter
use--so that both net and gun were in constant occupation.
One day, while Lumley and I were sitting at dinner--which we usually
took about noon--we were agreeably surprised by the appearance of a
strange Indian, and still more agreeably surprised by his entering the
hall and holding out a packet to Lumley. Having delivered it, the man,
who looked wayworn, strode to the fire, sat quietly down and began to
smoke a pipe which I had handed to him ready charged.
"Why, what's this?" exclaimed Lumley, unwrapping the covering of the
packet, "not a letter, surely!--yes, I declare it is--and from Macnab
too. Come, this _is_ an unlooked-for treat."
I was quite excited--indeed we both were--for a letter in those regions
was about as rare as snow in July.