The next morning, a little after daybreak, Martin and John made their
appearance, leading the magnificent dog which Captain Sinclair had given
to John. Like most large dogs, Oscar appeared to be very good-tempered,
and treated the snarling and angry looks of the other dogs with perfect
contempt.
"It is, indeed, a noble animal," said Mr. Campbell, patting its head.
"It's a fine creature," observed Malachi, "a wolf would stand no chance
against him, and even a bear would have more on its hands than it could
well manage I expect; but, come here, boy," said the old hunter to John,
leading the dog outside of the door.
"You'd better leave the dog, John," said Malachi, "the crittur will be
of use here, but of no good to us."
John made no reply, and the hunter continued--
"I say it will be of use here, for the girls might meet with another
wolf, or the house might be attacked; but good hunters don't want dogs.
Is it to watch for us, and give us notice of danger? Why that's our
duty, and we must trust to ourselves, and not to an animal. Is it to
hunt for us? Why no dog can take a deer so well as we can with our
rifles; a dog may discover us when we wish to be hidden; a dog's track
will mark us out when we would wish our track to be doubted. The animal
will be of no utility ever to us, John, and may do us harm, 'specially
now the snow's on the ground. In the summer-time, you can take him and
teach him how to behave as a hunter's dog should behave; but we had
better leave him now, and start at once."
John nodded his head in assent, and then went in-doors.
"Good-by," said John, going up to his mother and cousins; "I shall not
take the dog."
"Won't take the dog! well, that's very kind of you, John," said Mary,
"for we were longing to have him to protect us."
John shouldered his rifle, made a sign to Strawberry Plant, who rose,
and looking kindly at Mrs. Campbell and the girls, without speaking,
followed John out of the hut. Malachi certainly was not very polite, for
he walked off, in company with John and the squaw, without taking the
trouble to say "Good-by." It must, however, be observed that he was in
conversation with Martin, who accompanied them on the way.
The winter had now become very severe. The thermometer was twenty
degrees below the freezing point, and the cold was so intense, that
every precaution was taken against it. More than once Percival, whose
business it was to bring in the firewood, was frost bitten, but as Mrs.
Campbell was very watchful, the remedy of cold snow was always
successfully applied. The howling of the wolves continued every night,
but they were now used to it, and the only effect was, when one came
more than usually close to the house, to make Oscar raise his head,
growl, listen awhile, and then lie down to sleep again. Oscar became
very fond of the girls, and was their invariable companion whenever they
left the house. Alfred, Martin and Henry went out almost daily on
hunting excursions; indeed, as there were no crops in the barn, they had
little else to do. Mr. Campbell remained at home with his wife and
nieces; occasionally, but not very often, Percival accompanied the
hunters; of Malachi and John, they saw but little; John returned about
every ten days, but although he adhered to his promise, his anxiety to
go back to Malachi was so very apparent, and he was so restless, that
Mrs. Campbell rather wished him to be away, than remain at home so much
against his will.
Thus passed away the time till the year closed in; confined as they were
by the severity of the weather, and having little or nothing to do, the
winter appeared longer and more tedious than it would have done had they
been settled longer, and had the crops to occupy their attention; for it
is in the winter that the Canadian farmer gets through all his thrashing
and other work connected with the farm, preparatory for the coming
spring. This being their first winter, they had, of course, no crops
gathered in, and were, therefore, in want of employment. Mrs. Campbell
and her nieces worked and read, and employed themselves in every way
that they could, but constantly shut up within doors, they could not
help feeling the monotony and _ennui_ of their situation. The young men
found occupation and amusement in the chase; they brought a variety of
animals and skins, and the evenings were generally devoted to a
narration of what occurred in the day during their hunting excursions,
but even these histories of the chase were at last heard with
indifference. It was the same theme only with variations, over and over
again, and there was no longer much excitement in listening.
"I wonder when John will come back again," observed Emma to her sister,
as they were sitting at work.
"Why he only left two days ago, so we must not expect him for some
time."
"I know that; I wonder if Oscar would kill a wolf; I should like to take
him out and try."
"I thought you had had enough of wolves already, Emma," replied Mary.
"Yes, well; that old Malachi will never bring us any more news about the
Indians," continued Emma, yawning.
"Why, I do not think that any news about them is likely to be pleasant
news, Emma, and therefore, why should you wish it?"
"Why, my dear Mary, because I want _some_ news; I want something to
excite me, I feel so dull. It's nothing but stitch, stitch, all day,
and I am tired of always doing the same thing. What a horrid thing a
Canadian winter Is, and not one-half over yet."
"It is very dull and monotonous, my dear Emma, I admit, and if we had
more variety of employment, we should find it more agreeable, but we
ought to feel grateful that we have a good house over our heads, and
more security than we anticipated."
"Almost too much security, Mary; I begin to feel that I could welcome an
Indian even in his war-paint, just by way of a little change."
"I think you would soon repent of your wish, if it were gratified."
"Very likely, but I can not help wishing it now. When will they come
home? What o'clock is it? I wonder what they'll bring: the old story I
suppose, a buck; I'm sick of venison."
"Indeed, Emma, you are wrong to feel such discontent and weariness."
"Perhaps I am, but I have not walked a hundred yards for nearly one
hundred days, and that will give one the blues, as they call them, and I
do nothing but yawn, yawn, yawn, for want of air and exercise. Uncle
won't let us move out on account of that horrid wolf. I wonder how
Captain Sinclair is getting on at the fort, and whether he is as dull as
we are."
To do Emma justice, it was seldom that she indulged herself in such
lamentations, but the tedium was more than her high flow of spirits
could well bear. Mrs. Campbell made a point of arranging the household,
which gave her occupation, and Mary from natural disposition did not
feel the confinement as much as Emma did; whenever, therefore, she did
show symptoms of restlessness or was tempted to utter a complaint, they
reasoned with and soothed, but never reproached her.
The day after this conversation, Emma, to amuse herself, took a rifle
and went out with Percival. She fired several shots at a mark, and by
degrees acquired some dexterity; gradually she became fond of the
exercise, and not a day passed that she and Percival did not practice
for an hour or two, until at last Emma could fire with great precision.
Practice and a knowledge of the perfect use of your weapon gives
confidence, and this Emma did at last acquire. She challenged Alfred and
Henry to fire at the bull's eye with her, and whether by their gallantry
or her superior dexterity, she was declared victor. Mr. and Mrs.
Campbell smiled when Emma came in and narrated her success, and felt
glad that she had found something which afforded her amusement.
It happened that one evening the hunters were very late; it was a clear
moonlight night, but at eight o'clock they had not made their
appearance; Percival had opened the door to go out for some firewood
which had been piled within the palisades, and as it was later than the
usual hour for locking the palisade gates, Mr. Campbell had directed him
so to do. Emma, attracted by the beauty of the night, was at the door of
the house, when the howl of a wolf was heard close to them; the dogs
accustomed to it merely sprang on their feet, but did not leave the
kitchen fire; Emma went out, and looked through the palisades to see if
she could perceive the animal, and little Trim, the terrier, followed
her. Now Trim was so small, that he could creep between the palisades,
and as soon as he was close to them, perceiving the wolf, the courageous
little animal squeezed through them and flew toward it, barking as loud
as he could. Emma immediately ran in, took down her rifle and went out
again, as she knew that poor Trim would soon be devoured. The
supposition was correct: the wolf, instead of retreating, closed with
the little dog and seized it. Emma, who could now plainly perceive the
animal, which was about forty yards from her, took aim and fired, just
as poor Trim gave a loud yelp. Her aim was good, and the wolf and dog
lay side by side. Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, and Mary, hearing the report of
the rifle, ran out, and found Percival and Emma at the palisades behind
the house.
"I have killed him, aunt," said Emma, "but I fear he has killed poor
little Trim; do let us go out and see."
"No, no, my dear Emma, that must not be; your cousins will be home soon,
and then we shall know how the case stands; but the risk is too great."
"Here they come," said Percival, "as fast as they can run."
The hunters were soon at the palisade door and admitted; they had no
game with them. Emma jeered them for coming back empty handed.
"No, no, my little cousin," replied Alfred, "we heard the report of a
rifle, and we threw down our game, that we might sooner come to your
assistance if you required it. What was the matter?"
"Only that I have killed a wolf, and am not allowed to bring in my
trophy," replied Emma. "Come, Alfred, I may go with you and Martin."
They went to the spot, and found the wolf was dead, and poor Trim dead
also by his side. They took in the body of the little dog, and left the
wolf till the morning, when Martin said he would skin it for Miss Emma.
"And I'll make a footstool of it," said Emma; "that shall be my revenge
for the fright I had from the other wolf. Come, Oscar, good dog; you and
I will go wolf-hunting. Dear me, who would have thought that I should
have ever killed a wolf--poor little Trim!"
Martin said it would be useless to return for the venison, as the wolves
had no doubt eaten it already; so they locked the palisade gate, and
went into the house.
Emma's adventure was the topic of the evening, and Emma herself was much
pleased at having accomplished such a feat.
"Well," said Martin, "I never knew but one woman who faced a wolf except
Miss Emma."
"And who was that, Martin?" said Mrs. Campbell.
[Illustration: FACING A WOLF.]
"It was a wife of one of our farmers, ma'am; she was at the outhouse
doing something, when she perceived a wolf enter the cottage-door, where
there was nobody except the baby in the cradle. She ran back and found
the wolf just lifting the infant out of the cradle by its clothes. The
animal looked at her with his eyes flashing; but having its mouth full,
it did not choose to drop the baby, and spring at her; all it wanted was
to get clear off with its prey. The woman had presence of mind enough to
take down her husband's rifle and point it to the wolf, but she was so
fearful of hurting the child, that she did not put the muzzle to its
head, but to its shoulder. She fired just as the wolf was making off,
and the animal fell, and could not get on its feet again, and it then
dropped the child out of its mouth to attack the mother. The woman
caught the child up, but the wolf gave her a severe bite on the arm, and
broke the bone near the wrist. A wolf has a wonderful strong jaw, ma'am.
However, the baby was saved, and neighbors came and dispatched the
animal."
"What a fearful position for a mother to be in!" exclaimed Mrs.
Campbell.
"Where did that happen?"
"On the White Mountains, ma'am," replied Martin. "Malachi Bone told me
the story; he was born there."
"Then he is an American."
"Well, ma'am, he is an American because he was born in this country, but
it was English when he was born, so he calls himself an Englishman."
"I understand," replied Mrs. Campbell, "he was born before the colonies
obtained their independence."
"Yes, ma'am, long before; there's no saying how old he is. When I was
quite a child, I recollect he was then reckoned an old man; indeed, the
name the Indians gave to him proves it. He then was called the 'Gray
Badger.'"
"But is he so very old, do you really think, Martin?"
"I think he has seen more than sixty snows, ma'am; but not many more;
the fact is, his hair was gray before he was twenty years old; he told
me so himself, and that's one reason why the Indians are so fearful of
him. They have it from their fathers that the Gray Badger was a great
hunter, as Malachi was more than forty years ago; so they imagine as his
hair was gray then, he must have been a very old man at that time back,
and so to them he appears to live forever, and they consider him as
charmed, and to use their phrase, 'great _medicine_.' I've heard some
Indians declare that Malachi had seen one hundred and fifty winters, and
they really believe it. I never contradicted them, as you may imagine."
"Does he live comfortably?"
"Yes, ma'am, he does; his squaw knows what he wants, and does what she
is bid. She is very fond of the old man, and looks upon him, as he
really is to her, as a father. His lodge is always full of meat, and he
has plenty of skins. He don't drink spirits, and if he has tobacco for
smoking and powder and ball, what else can he want?"
"Happy are they whose wants are so few," observed Mr. Campbell. "A man
in whatever position in life, if he is content, is certain to be happy.
How true are the words of the poet:--
'Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long!'
Malachi Bone is a happier man than hundreds in England who live in
luxury. Let us profit, my dear children, by his example, and learn to be
content with what Heaven has bestowed upon us. But it is time to retire.
The wind has risen, and we shall have a blustering night. Henry, fetch
me the book."