CHAPTER XXV.

CHILDREN OF THE FOREST.

There could hardly be a wider contrast than between Captain Argent's

usual dinner at his regimental mess, and that of which he now partook in

the lumbermen's shanty. Tables and chairs were as unknown as forks and

dishes among the _gens de chantier_; a large pot of tea, dipped into by

everybody's pannikin, served for beer and wine; pork was the _piece de

resistance_, and tobacco-smoking the dessert; during all of which a

Babel of tongues went on in French patois, intermingled with an

occasional remark in Irish or Scottish brogue.

'Your men seem to be temperance folk,' observed Argent to the foreman.

'Weel, they must be,' was the laconic reply. 'We've no stores where they

could get brandy-smash in the bush, and it's so much the better for

them, or I daursay they wad want prisons and juries next. As it is,

they're weel behaved lads eneugh.'

'I'm sure it must be good in a moral point of view; but do you find them

equal to as much work as if they had beer or spirits?' asked Captain

Argent. 'And lumbering seems to me to be particularly laborious.'

'Weel, there's a fact I'll mak a present to the teetotallers,' answered

the foreman. 'Our lumberers get nothing in the way of stimulant, and

they don't seem to want it. When I came fresh from the auld country, I

couldna hardly b'lieve that.'

'Au large, au large!'

At this word of command all hands turned out of the shanty, and went

back to work in their several gangs. Again the fellers attacked the

hugest pines; the hewers sprang upon the fallen, lining and squaring

the living trees into dead beams; and the teamsters yoked afresh their

patient oxen, fitting upon each massive throat the heavy wooden collar,

and attaching to chains the ponderous log which should be moved towards

the water highway.

Argent and Arthur found themselves presently at the foot of a colossal

Weymouth or white pine, the trunk and top of which were almost as

disproportionate as a pillar supporting a paint-brush, but which the

Scottish foreman admired enthusiastically, considering it in the

abstract as 'a stick,' and with reference to its future career in the

shape of a mast. All due preparation had been made for its reception

upon level earth; a road twenty feet wide cut through the forest, that

it and half-a-dozen brother pines of like calibre in the neighbourhood

might travel easily and safely to the water's edge; and forty yards of

bedding timbers lay a ready-made couch, for its great length.

'I daursay now, that stick's standing aboot a thousand years: I've

counted fourteen hunder rings in the wood of a pine no much bigger. Ou,

'twill mak a gran' mast for a seventy-four--nigh a hunder feet lang,

and as straight as a rod.'

Stripping off the bark and dressing the knots was the next work, which

would complete its readiness for Devonport dockyards, or perchance for

the Cherbourg shipwrights. During this operation the foreman made an

excursion to visit his other gangs, and then took his visitors a little

aside into the woods to view what he termed a 'regular take-in.' It was

a group of fine-looking pines, wearing all the outward semblance of

health, but when examined, proving mere tubes of bark, charred and

blackened within, and ragged along the seam where the fire had burst

out.

'How extraordinary!' said Argent. 'Why were they not burned equally

through?'

'I hae been thinkin' the fire caught them in the spring, when the sap

rins strong; so the sap-wood saved thae shells, to misguide the puir

axmen. I thought I had a fair couple o' cribs o' lumber a' ready to

hand, when I spied the holes, and found my fine pines naething but empty

pipes.'

He had been fashioning two saplings into strong handspikes, and now

offered one each to the gentlemen. 'Ye'll not be too proud to bear a

hand wi' the mast aboon: it'll be a kittle job lugging it to the pond;

so just lend us a shove now and then.'

The great mass was at last got into motion, by a difficult concerted

starting of all the oxen at the same moment.

Round the brilliant log fire, while pannikins of tea circulated, and

some flakes of the falling snow outside came fluttering down into the

blaze, the lumberers lay on their bunks, or sat on blocks, talking,

sleeping, singing, as the mood moved. French Canadians are native-born

songsters; and their simple ballad melodies, full of _refrain_ and

repetition, sounded very pleasing even to Argent's amateur ears.

'I can imagine that this shanty life must be pleasant enough,' said

Argent, rolling himself in his buffalo robe preparatory to sleep by the

fire.

'I'll just tell ye what it is,' returned the foreman; 'nane that has

gane lumbering can tak' kindly to ony ither calling. They hae caught

the wandering instinct, and the free life o' the woods becomes a

needcessity, if I might say sae. D'ye ken the greatest trouble I find

in towns? Trying to sleep on a civilised bed. I canna do't, that's the

fact; nor be sitting to civilised dinners, whar the misguided folk spend

thrice the time that's needfu', fiddling with a fork an' spune. I like

to eat an' be done wi' it.'

Which little social trait was of a piece with Mr. Foreman's energy and

promptness in all the circumstances of life. In a very few minutes from

the aforesaid speech he was sound asleep, for he was determined to waste

no time in accomplishing that either.

Argent and Arthur left this wood-cutting polity next morning, and

worked, or rather hunted their way back to the settled districts. The

former stayed for another idle week at Cedar Creek; and then the

brothers were again alone, to pursue their strife with the forest.

It went on, with varying success, till 'the moon of the snow crust,' as

the Ojibbeways poetically style March. A chaos of fallen trunks and

piled logs lay for twenty-five acres about the little shanty; Robert

was beginning to understand why the French Canadians called a cleared

patch 'un desert,' for beyond doubt the axe had a desolating result, in

its present stage.

'Why, then, Masther Robert, there's one thing I wanted to ax you,' said

Andy, resting a moment from his chopping: 'it's goin' on four months now

since we see a speck of green, an' will the snow ever be off the ground

agin, at all, at all?'

'You see the sun is only just getting power enough to melt,' returned

his master, tracing with his axe-head a furrow in the thawing surface.

'But, sure, if it always freezes up tight agin every evenin', that

little taste of meltin' won't do much good,' observed Andy. 'Throth,

I'm fairly longin' to see that lake turn into wather, instead ov bein'

as hard as iron. Sure the fish must all be smothered long ago, the

crathurs, in prison down there.'

'Well, Andy, I hope they'll be liberated next month. Meanwhile the ice

is a splendid high road. Look there.'

From behind a wooded promontory, stretching far into the lake, at the

distance of about half a mile from where they were chopping, emerged the

figure of a very tall Indian, wrapped in a dark blanket and carrying a

gun. After him, in the stately Indian file, marched two youths, also

armed; then appeared a birchen traineau, drawn by the squaw who had

the honour of being wife and mother respectively to the preceding

copper-coloured men, and who therefore was constituted their beast of

burden. A girl and a child--future squaws--shared the toil of pulling

along the family chattels, unaided by the stalwart lords of the creation

stalking in front.

'Why, thin, never welcome their impidence, an' to lave the poor women

to do all the hard work, an' they marchin' out forenenst 'em like three

images, so stiff an' so sthraight, an' never spakin' a word. I'm afeard

it's here they're comin.' An' I give ye my word she has a child on her

back, tied to a boord; no wondher for 'em to be as stiff as a tongs whin

they grows up, since the babies is rared in that way.'

Not seeming to heed the white men, the Indians turned into a little

cove at a short distance, and stepped ashore. The woman-kind followed,

pulling their traineau with difficulty over the roughnesses of the

landing place; while husband and sons looked on tranquilly, and smoked

'kinne-kanik' in short stone pipes. The elderly squaw deposited her baby

on the snow, and also comforted herself with a whiff; certain vernacular

conversation ensued between her and her daughters, apparently about the

place of their camp, and the younger ones set to work clearing a patch

of ground under some birch trees. Mrs. Squaw now drew forth a hatchet

from her loaded sledge, and chopped down a few saplings, which were

fixed firmly in the earth again a few yards off, so as to make an oval

enclosure by the help of trees already standing.

'Throth an' I'll go an' help her,' quoth good-natured Andy, whose native

gallantry would not permit him to witness a woman's toil without trying

to lighten it. 'Of all the ould lazy-boots I ever see, ye're the biggest,'

apostrophizing the silent stoical Indians as he passed where they

lounged; 'ye've a good right to be ashamed of yerselves, so ye have,

for a set of idle spalpeens.'

The eldest of the trio removed his pipe for an instant and uttered the

two words--'I savage.' Andy's rhetoric had been totally incomprehensible.

'Why, then, ye needn't tell me ye're a savidge: it's as plain as a

pikestaff. What'll I do with this stick, did ye say, ma'am? Oh, surra

bit o' me knows a word she's sayin', though it's mighty like the Irish

of a Connaught man. I wondher what it is she's tryin' to make; it

resimbles the beginnin' of a big basket at present, an' meself standin'

in the inside of the bottom. I can't be far asthray if I dhrive down the

three where there's a gap. I don't see how they're to make a roof, an'

this isn't a counthry where I'd exactly like to do 'athout one. Now

she's fastenin' down the branches round, stickin' 'em in the earth, an'

tyin' 'em together wid cord. It's the droll cord, never see a rope-walk

anyhow.'

Certainly not; for it was the tough bast of the Canadian cedar,

manufactured in large quantities by the Indian women, twisted into all

dimensions of cord, from thin twine to cables many fathoms long; used

for snares, fishing nets, and every species of stitching. Mrs. Squaw,

like a provident housekeeper, had whole balls of it in her traineau

ready for use; also rolls of birch-bark, which, when the skeleton wigwam

was quite ship-shape, and well interlaced with crossbars of supple

boughs, she began to wrap round in the fashion of a covering skirt.

Had crinoline been in vogue in the year 1851, Robert would have found

a parallel before his eyes, in these birch-bark flounces arranged

over a sustaining framework, in four successive falls, narrowing in

circumference as they neared the top, where a knot of bast tied the

arching timbers together. He was interested in the examination of

these forest tent cloths, and found each roll composed of six or seven

quadrangular bits of bark, about a yard square apiece, sewed into a

strip, and having a lath stitched into each end, after the manner in

which we civilised people use rollers for a map. The erection was

completed by the casting across several strings of bast, weighted at

the ends with stones, which kept all steady.

The male Indians now vouchsafed to take possession of the wigwam.

Solemnly stalking up to Andy, the chief of the party offered his pipe to

him for a puff.

'Musha thin, thank ye kindly, an' I'm glad to see ye've some notions o'

civiltude, though ye do work the wife harder than is dacent.' But after

a single 'draw,' Andy took the pipe in his fingers and looked curiously

into its bowl. 'It's the quarest tobacco I ever tasted,' he observed:

'throth if I don't think it's nothin' but chips o' bark an' dead leaves.

Here 'tis back for you, sir; it don't shute my fancy, not bein' an

Indjin yet, though I dunno what I mightn't come to.' The pipe was

received with the deepest gravity.

No outward sign had testified surprise or any other emotion, at the

discovery that white men had settled close to their 'sugar-bush,' and

of course become joint proprietors. The inscrutable sphinx-like calm of

these countenances, the strangeness of this savage life, detained Robert

most of the afternoon as by a sort of fascination. Andy's wrath at the

male indolence was renewed by finding that the squaw and her girls had

to cut and carry all the firewood needful: even the child of seven years

old worked hard at bringing in logs to the wigwam. He was unaware that

the Indian women hold labour to be their special prerogative; that this

very squaw despised him for the help he rendered her; and that the

observation in her own tongue, which was emphasized by an approving

grunt from her husband, was a sarcasm levelled at the inferiority and

mean-spiritedness of the white man, as exemplified in Andy's person.

One of the young fellows, who had dived into the forest an hour before,

returned with spoil in the shape of a skunk, which the ever-industrious

squaw set about preparing for the evening meal. The fearful odour of the

animal appeared unnoticed by the Indians, but was found so hateful by

Robert and his Irish squire, that they left the place immediately.

Cedar Creek: From the Shanty to the Settlement. A Tale of Canadian Life · 第 25 / 45 章