THE RIVER HIGHWAY.
'Well, Misther Robert! if ever I laid my eyes on the likes of such a
ship, in all my born days!'
With this impressive ejaculation, Andy Callaghan backed on the wharf to
take a completer view of the wondrous whole. His untravelled imagination
had hitherto pictured steamers after the one pattern and similitude of
those which sailed upon the river Lee and in the Cove of Cork--craft
which had the aquatic appendages of masts and decks, and still kept up
an exterior relation with the ship tribe. But this a steamboat! this
great three-storied wooden edifice, massive-looking as a terrace of
houses!
'An' a hole in the side for a hall-door!' soliloquized Andy. 'No, but
two holes, one for the quality an' the other for the commonality. An'
no deck at all at all for the people to take the air, only all cabins
intirely! If it isn't the very dead image of a side of a sthreet
swimmin' away!'
Andy's outspoken remarks attracted some notice when he was fairly
aboard.
'This is the fore-cabin, and you must try to keep quiet,' said Arthur.
'We'll be off presently; and whatever you do,' he added in a low tone,
'keep clear of that bar'--indicating a counter recess where liquors were
sold, and where customers had congregated already.
'Never fear, sir,' was the reply; 'though they've no right to put it
there forenent us, an' they knowin' that the bare sight of it is like
fire to tow with many a one. But sure they're not thinkin' only how to
get money:' and Mr. Callaghan ended his moral reflections by sitting
down beside a family of small children, who squalled in different keys,
and treating one of them to a ride on his foot, which favour, being
distributed impartially, presently restored good humour.
'An' isn't there any peep of the fresh air allowed us at all?' inquired
Andy of a man near him, whose peculiar cut of garments had already
excited his curiosity. 'It's a quare vessel that hasn't aither a sail or
deck: we might all go to the bottom of the say in this big box, 'athout
bein' a bit the wiser.'
The emigrant with the six children looked rather anxious, and hugged her
baby closer, poor woman; glancing for a minute at the bar, where her
husband was sipping gin, and already brawling with an American. But as
the apple-complexioned man whom Andy addressed happened to be a French
_habitan_, limited in English at the best of times, the Irish brogue
puzzled him so thoroughly, that he could only make a polite bow, and
signify his ignorance of Monsieur's meaning.
'Maybe he's an Injin,' thought Andy; 'but sure I thought thim savages
wore no clothes, and he has an iligant blue coat an' red tie. I wondher
would it be any good to thry the Irish wid him;' and, as an experiment,
he said something in the richest Munster dialect. The Canadian's
politeness was almost forgotten in his stare of surprise, and he took
the earliest opportunity of changing his place, and viewing Andy
respectfully from afar.
But if it had a repellent effect on the _habitan_, it exerted a strong
attractive force upon other of the passengers. Mr. Callaghan was never
happier than when at the focus of a knot of his countrymen, for his
talents were essentially social; and before the evening was over, his
musical feats with voice and violin had so charmed the aforesaid
Canadian, that he came up and made him another of the polite bows.
'Very much obliged to you, sir, if I only knew what you were sayin','
replied Andy, with equal courtesy.
'He's inviting you to his daughter's wedding,' interpreted one of the
sailors who stood by; 'you and the fiddle.'
'With all the pleasure in life, sir,' promptly replied Andy, as he
imitated the bow of the worthy _habitan_ to perfection. 'I'm always
ready for any fun-goin'. Ask the old gentleman when and where it's
to be,' he continued, jogging the interpreter with his elbow.
'The day after to-morrow, at a village near Montreal;' upon learning
which, Andy's countenance fell, and the festive vision faded from his
ken. 'Maybe it's in China I'd be by that time,' said he, with incorrect
notions of geography; 'but I'm obliged to you all the same, sir, an'
wherever I am I'll drink her health, if 'twas only in a glass of wather.
I'll have a pain in me back if I bow much longer' added Andy _sotto
voce_; 'I don't know how he's able to keep it up at all.'
'Why, where are you going to?' asked the sailor, laughing; 'this ain't
the way to China by a long chalk.'
'Going to make me fortune,' replied Andy boldly, as he dropped the
violin into its case and latched the cover tightly, as if a secret were
locked in. While no more idea had he of his destination, nor plan for
future life, poor faithful peasant, than the fine Newfoundland dog which
slept not far from him that night in the fore-cabin, a mass of creamy
curls.
Meanwhile, all the evening, and all the night through, the noble steamer
stemmed the broad brimming flood, steadily onwards, casting behind her
on the moonlit air a breath of dark smoke ruddy with sparks, at every
palpitation of her mighty engine-heart. Past black pine forests to the
edge of the shore; past knots of white cottages centred round the usual
gleaming metal spire; past confluence of other rivers, dark paths joining
the great continental highway; blowing off steam now and then at young
roadside towns, where upon wooden wharves, waited passengers and freight
in the moonlight, swallowing into either mouth all presented to her, and
on untiringly again. Robert Wynn stayed on the small open poop astern,
gazing at the picturesque panorama, half revealed, half shaded by the
silvery beams, long after the major part of the passengers were snug in
their state rooms or berths below. With the urging of the fire-driven
machinery he could hear mingled the vast moan of the river sweeping
along eastwards. It saddened him, that never-silent voice of 'the Father
of Waters.' Memories of home came thronging round him--a home for him
extinct, dead, till in this distant land he should create another. At
the threshold of a great undertaking, before hand has been put to work
it out, the heart always shrinks and shivers, as did his here. Looking
upon the length and breadth of all that had to be done, it seemed too
hard for him.
But not so when next morning he arose from a few hours' sleep, and
beheld the bright sunshine lighting up the glorious Canadian world.
Looming giants by moonlight are reduced to very ordinary obstacles by
daylight; and the set of desponding thoughts which had weighed upon the
young man as he contemplated the inky river and darkling country, seemed
now to belong to another phase of being. Despondent! with the wide free
world to work in, and its best prizes lying beside the goal, ready for
capture by the steady heart and active hand. Robert felt almost as if
that shadowy home in the forest were already built, already peopled with
the dear old faces he had left behind. The pure fresh air--clear as is
rarely breathed in Europe (for it is as if in our Old World the breath
of unnumbered nations has for centuries been soiling the elements)--the
richly coloured scene, were a cordial to his young brain. The steamer
was fast approaching the isle of St. Helen's; and beyond, against a
background of purple mountain, lay 'the Silver Town,' radiant with that
surface glitter peculiar to Canadian cities of the Lower Province; as if
Montreal had sent her chief edifices to be electro-plated, and they had
just come home brightly burnished. In front was the shining blue current
of the St. Lawrence, escaped from a bewildering perplexity of islets
and rapids, which had apparently ruffled its temper not a little.
'Part of our Ottawa flows here,' said Mr. Holt, glancing at the stream
with a sort of home affection--'our clear emerald Ottawa, fresh from the
virgin wilderness; and it hasn't quite mingled with its muddy neighbour
yet, no more than we Westerns can comfortably mingle with the _habitans_
and their old-world practices down here. You see, Wynn, the St. Lawrence
has been running over a bed of marl for miles before it reaches Lake St.
Louis; and the Ottawa has been purified by plenty of rocks and rapids;
so they don't suit very well--no more than we and the _habitans_--ha!
ha!' Mr. Holt was vastly amused by the similitude. He pointed to a very
distinctly marked line of foam wavering on the river surface, and said,
'There's the demarcation.'
'I am glad it is of such an evanescent nature, sir,' replied Robert. He
might have said how much grander the river became when all brawling was
forgotten, and both currents fused into one glorious stream.
'Now,' said Arthur, with the contrariety of youth (and _aside_, as is
written in stage-plays), 'I'm certain these French Canadians are not so
black as they're painted. I like those sociable white villages round the
tin spires; and the guide-book says the people are amiable and civil.
I'll investigate that subject, Bob.'
'I would advise you to investigate breakfast just now,' was the reply,
as the steward's bell swung forth its summons. Then commenced a procession
of passengers to the eating-room; through the length of the sumptuously
furnished saloon, where the richest Persian carpets, marble tables,
brilliant chandeliers, and mirrors, were at the service of the public;
by a narrow staircase amidships down to the lowest storey of the vessel,
a long apartment lit by candles, and lined at the sides with curtained
rows of berths. The usual pause followed for the advent of the ladies:
nobody sat down till they had come from their cabin on the middle deck,
and established themselves wheresoever they listed.
'That's like Irish politeness' whispered Arthur, whose good spirits were
always talkative. 'My father, dear old gentleman, would take off his hat
to a petticoat on a bush, I do believe.'
The company was very mixed, and quite as much conversation went on in
French as in English. It seemed to the strangers as if the balance of
gentlemanly deportment, and yet vivacity of manner, might possibly lie
on the side of those who spoke the former tongue. Next to Arthur sat the
sallow States'-man, bolting his breakfast with unconscionable speed,
and between whiles, in a high treble voice, volunteering his opinion
pretty freely on Canadian matters, as if he were endowed with a special
commission to set them right. Badly as Hiram Holt thought of the
seignorial system, he was perforce driven to defend it in some measure,
much to Arthur's delectation; but he soon discovered that to carry
war into the enemy's country was his best policy, so he seized the
institution of slavery in his canine teeth, and worried it well. The
States'-man thought that a gentleman might be permitted to travel
without being subject to attacks on his country: Mr. Holt observed that
he thought precisely the same, which species of agreement closed the
conversation. And the States'-man relieved his feelings subsequently
by whittling a stick from the firewood into impalpable chips, with his
heels resting on the apex of the saloon stove. Kind-hearted Hiram Holt
had meanwhile more than half repented his hostility.
'Tell you what, sir,' said he, going up and extending his hand, 'it
wasn't the matter, but the manner of your talk that raised my dander
awhile since. I agree in most of what you say about this Province here,
and I hope as much as you do that the last badge of feudalism may soon
be swept away.'
The American put his bony pale hand almost sullenly into the Canadian's
brawny palm, and after suffering the pressure, returned to his interesting
pursuit of whittling, which he continued in silence for the rest of the
voyage.