"How cheerful and gay every thing looks now," observed Emma to Mary, a
few mornings after the celebration of the marriage. "One could hardly
credit that in a few months all this animated landscape will be nothing
but one dreary white mass of snow and ice, with no sounds meeting the
ear but the howling of the storm and the howling of the wolves."
"Two very agreeable additions certainly," replied Mary, "but what you
observe was actually occurring to my own mind at the very moment."
The scene was indeed cheerful and lively. The prairie on one side of the
stream waved its high grass to the summer breeze; on the other, the
cows, horses and sheep were grazing in every direction. The lake in the
distance was calm and unruffled; the birds were singing and chirping
merrily in the woods; near the house the bright green of the herbage was
studded with the soldiers, dressed in white, employed in various ways;
the corn waved its yellow ears between the dark stumps of the trees in
the cleared land, and the smoke from the chimney of the house mounted
straight up in a column to the sky; the grunting of the pigs and the
cackling of the fowls, and the occasional bleating of the calves,
responded to by the lowing of the cows, gave life and animation to the
picture. At a short distance from the shore the punt was floating on the
still waters. John and Malachi were very busy fishing; the dogs were
lying down by the palisades, all except Oscar, who, as usual, attended
upon his young mistresses; and under the shade of a large tree, at a
little distance from the house, were Mr. Campbell and Percival, the
former reading while the other was conning over his lesson.
"This looks but little like a wilderness now, Mary, does it?" said Emma.
"No, my dear sister. It is very different from what it was when we first
came; but still I should like to have some neighbors."
"So should I; any society is better than none at all."
"There I do not agree with you; at the same time, I think we could find
pleasure in having about us even those who are not cultivated, provided
they were respectable and good."
"That's what I would have said, Mary; but we must go in, and practice
the new air for the guitar which Henry brought us from Montreal. We
promised him that we would. Here comes Alfred to spend his idleness upon
us."
"His idleness, Emma; surely, you don't mean that; he's seldom if ever
unemployed."
"Some people are very busy about nothing," replied Emma.
"Yes; and some people say what they do not mean, sister," replied Mary.
"Well, Alfred, here is Emma pronouncing you to be an idle body."
"I am not likely to be that, at all events," replied Alfred, taking off
his hat and fanning himself. "My father proposes to give me enough to
do. What do you think he said to me this morning before breakfast?"
"I suppose he said that you might as well go to sea again as remain
here," replied Emma, laughing.
"No, indeed; I wish he had; but he has proposed that your prophecy
should be fulfilled, my malicious little cousin. He has proposed my
turning miller."
Emma clapped her hands and laughed.
"How do you mean?" said Mary.
"Why, he pointed out to me that the mill would cost about two hundred
and fifty pounds, and that he thought as my half-pay was unemployed,
that it would be advisable that I should expend it in erecting the mill,
offering me the sum necessary for the purpose. He would advance the
money, and I might repay him as I received my pay. That, he said, would
be a provision for me, and eventually an independence."
"I told you that you would be a miller," replied Emma, laughing. "Poor
Alfred!"
"Well, what did you reply, Alfred?" said Mary.
"I said yes, I believe, because I did not like to say no."
"You did perfectly right, Alfred," replied Mary. "There can be no harm
in your having the property, and had you refused it, it would have given
pain to your father. If your money is laid out on the mill, my uncle
will have more to expend upon the farm; but still it does not follow
that you are to become a miller all your life."
"I should hope not," replied Alfred; "as soon as Emma meets with that
long black gentleman we were talking of, I'll make it over to her as a
marriage portion."
"Thank you, cousin," replied Emma, "I may put you in mind of your
promise; but now Mary and I must go in and astonish the soldiers with
our music; so good-by, Mr. Campbell, the miller."
The soldiers had now been at work for more than two months, a large
portion of the wood had been felled and cleared away. With what had been
cleared by Alfred and Martin and Henry the year before, they had now
more than forty acres of corn land. The rails for the snake-fence had
also been split, and the fence was almost complete round the whole of
the prairie and cleared land, when it was time for the grass to be cut
down and the hay made and gathered up. This had scarcely been finished
when the corn was ready for the sickle and gathered; in a barn had been
raised close to the sheep-fold as well as the lodge for Malachi, Martin,
and his wife. For six weeks all was bustle and hard work, but the
weather was fine, and every thing was got in safe. The services of the
soldiers were now no longer required, and Mr. Campbell having settled
his accounts, they returned to the fort.
"Who would think," said Henry to Alfred, as he cast his eyes over the
buildings, the stacks of corn and hay, and the prairie stocked with
cattle, "that we had only been here so short a time?"
"Many hands make light work," replied Alfred; "we have done with the
help from the fort what it would have taken us six years to do with our
own resources. My father's money has been well laid out, and will bring
in good return."
"You have heard of the proposal of Colonel Forster, about the cattle at
the fort?"
"No; what is it?"
"He wrote to my father yesterday, saying, as he had only the means of
feeding the cows necessary for the officers of the garrison, that he
would sell all the oxen at present at the fort at a very moderate
price."
"But even if we have fodder enough for them during the winter what are
we to do with them?"
"Sell them again to the fort for the supply of the troops," replied
Henry, "and thereby gain good profit. The commandant says that it will
be cheaper to government in the end than being compelled to feed them."
"That it will, I have no doubt, now that they have nothing to give them;
they trusted chiefly to our prairie for hay; and if they had not had
such a quantity in store, they could not have fed them last winter."
"My father will consent, I know; indeed he would be very foolish not to
do so, for most of them will be killed when the winter sets in, and will
only cost us the grazing."
"We are fortunate in finding such friends as we have done," replied
Alfred. "All this assistance would not have been given to perhaps any
other settlers."
"No, certainly not; but you see, Alfred, we are indebted to your
influence with Captain Lumley for all these advantages, at least my
father and mother say so, and I agree with them. Captain Lumley's
influence with the Governor has created all this interest about us."
"I think we must allow that the peculiar position of the family has done
much toward it. It is not often that they meet with settlers of refined
habits and cultivated minds, and there naturally must be a feeling
toward a family of such a description in all generous minds."
"Very true, Alfred," replied Henry; "but there is our mother waiting for
us to go in to dinner."
"Yes; and the Strawberry by her side. What a nice little creature she
is!"
"Yes; and how quickly she is becoming useful. She has almost given up
her Indian customs and is settling down quietly into English habits.
Martin appears very fond of her."
"And so he ought to be," replied Henry; "a wife with a smile always upon
her lips is a treasure. Come, let us go in."
Another fortnight passed away when an incident occurred which created
some uneasiness. Mr. Campbell was busy with Martin and Alfred clearing
out the store-room and arranging the stores. Many of the cases and
packages had been opened to be examined and aired, and they were busily
employed, when, turning round, Mr. Campbell, to his great surprise,
beheld an Indian by his side, who was earnestly contemplating the
various packages of blankets, etc., and cases of powder, shot, and other
articles, which were opened around him.
"Why, who is this?" exclaimed Mr. Campbell, starting.
Martin and Alfred, who had their backs to him at the time of Mr.
Campbell's exclamation, turned round and beheld the Indian. He was an
elderly man, very tall and muscular, dressed in leggins and deer-skin
coat, a war eagle's feather, fixed by a fillet, on his head, and a
profusion of copper and brass medals and trinkets round his neck. His
face was not painted, with the exception of two black circles round his
eyes. His head was shaved, and one long scalp-lock hung behind him. He
had a tomahawk and a knife in his belt and a rifle upon his arm. Martin
advanced to the Indian and looked earnestly at him.
"I know his tribe," said Martin; "but not his name; but he is a chief
and a warrior."
Martin then spoke to him in the Indian tongue. The Indian merely gave an
"ugh" in reply.
"He does not choose to give his name," observed Martin; "and, therefore,
he is here for no good. Mr. Alfred, just fetch Malachi; he will know him
I dare say."
Alfred went to the house for Malachi; in the meantime the Indian
remained motionless, with his eyes fixed upon different articles exposed
to view.
"It's strange," observed Martin, "how he could have come here; but to be
sure neither Malachi nor I have been out lately."
Just as he had finished his remark, Alfred returned with Malachi.
Malachi looked at the Indian and spoke to him.
The Indian now replied in the Indian language.
"I knew him, sir," said Malachi, "the moment I saw his back. He's after
no good, and it's a thousand pities that he has come just now and seen
all this," continued Malachi; "it's a strong temptation."
"Why, who is he?" said Mr. Campbell.
"The Angry Snake, sir," replied Malachi. "I had no idea that he would be
in these parts before the meeting of the Indian council, which takes
place in another month, and then I meant to have been on the look-out
for him."
"But what have we to fear from him?"
"Well; that's to be proved; but this I can say, that he has his eyes
upon what appears to him of more value than all the gold in the
universe; and he's any thing but honest."
"But we have nothing to fear from one man," observed Alfred.
"His party ain't far off, sir," said Malachi. "He has some followers,
although not many, and those who follow him are as bad as himself. We
must be on the watch."
Malachi now addressed the Indian for some time; the only reply was an
"ugh."
"I have told him that all the powder and ball that he sees are for our
rifles, which are more than are possessed by his whole tribe. Not that
it does much good, but at all events it's just as well to let him know
that we shall be well prepared. The crittur's quite amazed at so much
ammunition; that's a fact. It's a pity he ever saw it."
"Shall we give him some?" said Mr. Campbell.
"No, no, sir; he would only make use of it to try to get the rest;
however, I believe that he is the only one of his party who has a rifle.
The best thing is to close the doors and then he will go."
They did as Malachi requested, and the Indian, after waiting a short
time, turned round on his heel, and walked away.
"He is a regular devil, that Angry Snake," observed Malachi, as he
watched him departing; "but never mind, I'll be a match for him. I wish
he'd never seen all that ammunition, nevertheless."
"At all events, we had better not say a word in the house about his
making his appearance," said Mr. Campbell. "It will only alarm the
women, and do no good."
"That's true, sir. I'll only tell the Strawberry," said Martin; "she's
an Indian, and it will put her on the look-out."
"That will be as well, but caution her not to mention it to Mrs.
Campbell or the girls, Martin."
"Never fear, sir," replied Malachi; "I'll watch his motions
nevertheless; to-morrow I'll be in the woods and on his trail. I'm glad
that he saw me here, for he fears me; I know that."
It so happened that the Indian was not seen by Mrs. Campbell or any of
them in the house, either upon his arrival or departure; and when Mr.
Campbell and the others returned to the house, they found that no one
there had any idea of such a visit having been paid. The secret was
kept, but it occasioned a great deal of anxiety for some days. At last
the alarm of Mr. Campbell gradually subsided. Malachi had gone out with
John, and had discovered that all the Indians had come down near to
them, to meet in council, and that there were many other parties of them
in the woods. But although the visit of the Angry Snake might have been
partly accidental, still Malachi was convinced that there was every
prospect of his paying them another visit, if he could obtain a
sufficient number to join him, so that he might obtain by force the
articles he had seen and so much coveted.