On the Monday morning Alfred and Martin went to the cow-house, and
slaughtered the bullock which they had obtained from the commandant of
the fort. When it was skinned it was cut up, and carried to the
storehouse, where it was hung up for their winter consumption.
As the party were sitting down to dinner, they were greeted by Captain
Sinclair and a young lieutenant of the garrison. It hardly need be said
that the whole family were delighted to see them. They had come overland
on their snow-shoes, and brought some partridges, or grouse, as they are
sometimes called, which they had shot on their way. Captain Sinclair had
obtained leave from the commandant to come over and see how the
Campbells were getting on. He had no news of any importance, as they had
had no recent communications with Quebec or Montreal; all was well at
the fort, and Colonel Forster had sent his compliments, and begged, if
he could be useful, that they would let him know. Captain Sinclair and
his friend sat down to dinner, and talked more than they ate, asking
questions about every thing.
"By the by, Mr. Campbell, where have you built your pig-sties?"
"Inside the palisade, next to the fowl-house."
"That is well," replied Captain Sinclair, "for otherwise you may be
troubled by the wolves, who are very partial to pork or mutton."
"We _have_ been troubled with them," replied Emma; "at least with their
howlings at night, which make me tremble as I lie awake in bed."
"Never mind their howling, Miss Emma; we have plenty of them round the
fort, I can assure you; unless attacked, they will not attack you, at
least, I never knew an instance, although I must confess that I have
heard of them."
"You will, of course, sleep here to-night?"
"Yes: we will, if you have a bear or buffalo skin to spare," replied
Captain Sinclair.
"We will manage it, I have no doubt," said Mr. Campbell.
"And if you could manage, Captain Sinclair," said Emma, somewhat archly,
"as you say that they are not dangerous animals, to bring us a few skins
to-night, it would make the matter easy."
"Emma, how can you talk such nonsense?" cried Mary Percival. "Why should
you ask a guest to undertake such a service? Why have you not proposed
it to Alfred or Henry, or even Martin?"
"We will both try, if you please," replied Alfred.
"I must put my veto on any such attempts, Alfred," said Mr. Campbell.
"We have sufficient danger to meet without running into it voluntarily,
and we have no occasion for wolves' skins just now. I shall, however,
venture to ask your assistance to-morrow morning. We wish to haul up the
fishing-punt before the ice sets in on the lake, and we are not
sufficiently strong-handed."
During the day Captain Sinclair took Alfred aside to know if the old
hunter had obtained any information relative to the Indians. Alfred
replied that they expected him every day, but as yet had not received
any communication from him. Captain Sinclair stated that they were
equally ignorant at the fort as to what had been finally arranged, and
that Colonel Forster was in hopes that the hunter would by this time
have obtained some intelligence.
"I should not be surprised if Malachi Bone were to come here to-morrow
morning," replied Alfred. "He has been away a long while, and, I am
sure, is as anxious to have John with him as John is impatient to go."
"Well, I hope he will; I shall be glad to have something to tell the
Colonel, as I made the request upon that ground. I believe, however,
that he was very willing that I should find an excuse for coming here,
as he is more anxious about your family than I could have supposed. How
well your cousin Mary is looking."
"Yes; and so is Emma, I think. She has grown half a head since she left
England. By the by, you have to congratulate me on my obtaining my rank
as lieutenant."
"I do indeed, my dear fellow," replied Captain Sinclair. "They will be
pleased to hear it at the fort. When will you come over?"
"As soon as I can manage to trot a little faster on these snow-shoes.
If, however, the old hunter does not come to-morrow, I will go to the
fort as soon as he brings us any news."
The accession to their party made them all very lively, and the evening
passed away very agreeably. At night, Captain Sinclair and Mr. Gwynne
were ushered into the large bedroom, where all the younger male portion
of the family slept, and which, as we before stated, had two spare
bed-places.
The next morning, Captain Sinclair would have accompanied the Miss
Percivals on their milking expedition, but as his services were required
to haul up the fishing punt, he was obliged to go down, with all the
rest of the men, to assist; Percival and John were the only ones left at
home with Mrs. Campbell. John, after a time, having, as usual, rubbed
down his rifle, threw it on his shoulder, and, calling the dogs which
lay about, sallied forth for a walk, followed by the whole pack except
old Sancho, who invariably accompanied the girls to the cow-house.
Mary and Emma tripped over the new-beaten snow-path to the cow-house,
merry and cheerful, with their pails in their hands, Emma laughing at
Captain Sinclair's disappointment at not being permitted to accompany
them. They had just arrived at the cow-house, when old Sancho barked
furiously, and sprang to the side of the building behind them, and in a
moment afterward rolled down the snowheap which he had sprung over,
holding on and held fast by a large black wolf. The struggle was not
very long, and during the time that it lasted the girls were so
panic-struck, that they remained like statues within two yards of the
animals. Gradually the old dog was overpowered by the repeated snapping
bites of the wolf, yet he fought nobly to the last, when he dropped
under the feet of the wolf, his tongue hanging out, and bleeding
profusely and lifeless. As soon as his adversary was overpowered, the
enraged animal, with his feet upon the body of the dog, bristling his
hair and showing his powerful teeth, was evidently about to attack the
young women. Emma threw her arm around Mary's waist, advancing her body
so as to save her sister. Mary attempted the same, and then they
remained waiting in horror for the expected spring of the animal, when
of a sudden the other dogs came rushing forward, cheered on by John, and
flew upon the animal. Their united strength soon tore him down to the
ground, and John coming up, as the wolf defended himself against his new
assailants, put the muzzle of his rifle to the animal's head, and shot
it dead.
The two sisters had held up during the whole of this alarming struggle;
but as soon as they perceived the wolf was dead and that they were safe,
Mary could stand no longer, and sank down on her knees, supporting her
sister, who had become insensible.
If John showed gallantry in shooting the wolf, he certainly showed very
little toward his cousins. He looked at Mary, nodded his head toward the
wolf's body, and saying "He's dead," shouldered his rifle, turned round
and walked back to the house.
On his return he found that the party had just come back from hauling up
the punt, and were waiting the return of the Miss Percivals to go to
breakfast.
"Was that you who fired just now, John?" said Martin.
"Yes," replied John.
"What did you fire at?" said Alfred.
"A wolf," replied John.
"A wolf! where?" said Mr. Campbell.
"At the cow-lodge," replied John.
"The cow-lodge!" said his father.
"Yes; killed Sancho!"
"Killed Sancho! why, Sancho was with your cousins!"
"Yes," replied John.
"Then, where did you leave them?"
"With the wolf," replied John, wiping his rifle very coolly.
"Merciful Heaven!" cried Mr. Campbell, as Mrs. Campbell turned pale; and
Alfred, Captain Sinclair, Martin, and Henry, seizing their rifles,
darted out from the house, and ran with all speed in the direction of
the cow-house.
"My poor girls!" exclaimed Mrs. Campbell.
"Wolf's dead, father," said John.
"Dead! Why didn't you say so, you naughty boy!" cried Mrs. Campbell.
"I wasn't asked," replied John.
In the meantime the other party had gained the cow-house; and, to their
horror, beheld the wolf and dog dead, and the two young women lying on
the snow, close to the two animals; for Mary had fainted away shortly
after John had walked off. They rushed toward the bodies of the two
girls, and soon discovered that they were not hurt. In a short time they
were recovered, and were supported by the young men to the house.
As soon as they arrived, Mrs. Campbell took them into their room, that
they might rally their spirits, and in a quarter of an hour returned to
the party outside, who eagerly inquired how they were.
"They are much more composed," replied Mrs. Campbell; "and Emma has
begun to laugh again; but her laugh is rather hysterical and forced;
they will come out at dinner-time. It appears they are indebted to John
for their preservation, for they say the wolf was about to spring upon
them when he came to their assistance. We ought to be very grateful to
Heaven for their preservation. I had no idea, after what Martin said
about the wolves, that they were so dangerous."
"Why, ma'am, it is I that am most to blame, and that's the fact,"
replied Martin. "When we killed the bullock I threw the offal on the
heap of snow close to the cow-lodge, meaning that the wolves and other
animals might eat it at night, but it seems this animal was hungry, and
had not left his meal when the dog attacked him, and that made the beast
so _rily_ and savage."
"Yes; it was the fault of Martin and me," replied Alfred. "Thank Heaven
it's no worse!"
"So far from it being a subject of regret, I consider it one of
thankfulness," replied Mr. Campbell. "This might have happened when
there was no one to assist, and our dear girls might have been torn to
pieces. Now that we know the danger, we may guard against it for the
future."
"Yes, sir," replied Martin; "in future some of us will drive the cows
home, to be milked every morning and evening; inside the palisade there
will be no danger. Master John, you have done well. You see, ma'am,"
continued Martin, "what I said has come true. A rifle in the hands of a
child is as deadly a weapon as in the hands of a strong man."
"Yes; if courage and presence of mind attend its use," replied Mr.
Campbell. "John, I am very much pleased with your conduct."
"Mother called me naughty," replied John, rather sulkily.
"Yes, John, I called you naughty, for not telling us the wolf was dead,
and leaving us to suppose your cousins were in danger; not for killing
the wolf. Now I kiss you, and thank you for your bravery and good
conduct."
"I shall tell all the officers at the fort what a gallant little fellow
you are, John," said Captain Sinclair; "there are very few of them who
have shot a wolf, and what is more, John, I have a beautiful dog, which
one of the officers gave me the other day in exchange for a pony, and I
will bring it over, and make it a present to you for your own dog. He
will hunt any thing, and he is very powerful--quite able to master a
wolf, if you meet with one. He is half mastiff and half Scotch
deerhound, and he stands as high as this," continued Captain Sinclair,
holding his hand about as high as John's shoulder.
"I'll go to the fort with you," said John, "and bring him back."
"So you shall, John, and I'll go with you," said Martin, "if master
pleases."
"Well," replied Mr. Campbell, "I think he may; what with Martin, his own
rifle, and the dog, John will, I trust be safe enough."
"Certainly, I have no objection," said Mrs. Campbell, "and many thanks
to you, Captain Sinclair."
"What's the dog's name?" said John.
"Oscar," replied Captain Sinclair. "If you let him walk out with your
cousins, they need not fear a wolf. He will never be mastered by one, as
poor Sancho was."
"I'll lend him sometimes," replied John.
"Always; when you don't want him yourself, John."
"Yes, always," replied John, who was going out of the door.
"Where are you going, dear," said Mrs. Campbell.
"Going to skin the wolf," replied John, walking away.
"Well, he'll be a regular keen hunter," observed Martin, "I dare say old
Bone has taught him to flay an animal. However, I'll go and help him,
for it's a real good skin." So saying, Martin followed John.
"Martin ought to have known better than to leave the offal where he
did," observed Captain Sinclair.
"We must not be too hard, Captain Sinclair," said Alfred. "Martin has a
contempt for wolves, and that wolf would not have stood his ground had
it been a man instead of two young women who were in face of him. Wolves
are very cunning, and I know will attack a woman or child when they will
fly from a man. Besides, it is very unusual for a wolf to remain till
daylight, even when there is offal to tempt him. It was the offal, the
animal's extreme hunger, and the attack of the dog--a combination of
circumstances--which produced the event. I do not see that Martin can be
blamed, as one can not foresee every thing."
"Perhaps not," replied Captain Sinclair, "and 'all's well that ends
well.'"
"Are there any other animals to fear?" inquired Mrs. Campbell.
"The bear is now safe for the winter in the hollow of some tree or under
some root, where he has made a den. It will not come out till the
spring. The catamount or panther is a much more dangerous animal than
the wolf; but it is scarce. I do think, however, that the young ladies
should not venture out, unless with some rifles in company, for fear of
another mischance. We have plenty of lynxes here; but I doubt if they
would attack even a child, although they fight when assailed, and bite
and claw severely."
The Misses Percival now made their appearance. Emma was very merry, but
Mary rather grave. Captain Sinclair, having shaken hands with them both,
said--
"Why, Emma, you appear to have recovered sooner than your sister!"
"Yes," replied Emma; "but I was much more frightened than she was, and
she supported me, or I should have fallen at the wolf's feet. I yielded
to my fears; Mary held up against hers; so, as her exertions were much
greater than mine, she has not recovered from them so soon. The fact is,
Mary is brave when there is danger, and I am only brave when there is
none."
"I was quite as much frightened as you, my dear Emma," said Mary
Percival; "but we must now help our aunt, and get dinner ready on the
table."
"I can not say that I have a wolfish appetite this morning," replied
Emma, laughing; "but Alfred will eat for me and himself too."
In a few minutes dinner was on the table, and they all sat down without
waiting for Martin and John, who were still busy skinning the wolf.