As Henry had predicted, during the autumn the whole family were fully
employed. The stock had increased very much, they had a large number of
young calves and heifers, and the sheep had lambed down very favorably.
Many of the stock were now turned into the bush, to save the feed on the
prairies. The sheep with their lambs, the cows which were in milk, and
the young calves only were retained. This gave them more leisure to
attend to the corn harvest, which was now ready, and it required all
their united exertions from daylight to sunset to get it in, for they
had a very large quantity of ground to clear. It was, however, got in
very successfully, and all stacked in good order. Then came the
thrashing of the wheat, which gave them ample employment; and as soon as
it could be thrashed out, it was taken to the mill in a wagon, and
ground down, for Mr. Campbell had engaged to supply a certain quantity
of flour to the fort before the winter set in. They occasionally
received a visit from Captain Sinclair and the Colonel, and some other
officers, for now they had gradually become intimate with many of them.
Captain Sinclair had confided to the Colonel his engagement to Mary
Percival, and in consequence the Colonel allowed him to visit at the
farm as often as he could, consistently with his duty. The other
officers who came to see them, perceiving how much Captain Sinclair
engrossed the company of Mary Percival, were very assiduous in their
attentions to Emma, who laughed with and at them, and generally
contrived to give them something to do for her during their visit, as
well as to render their attentions serviceable to the household. On
condition that Emma accompanied them, they were content to go into the
punt and fish for hours; and indeed, all the lake-fish which were caught
this year were taken by the officers. There were several very pleasant
young men among them and they were always well received, as they added
very much to the society at the farm.
Before the winter set in the flour was all ready, and sent to the fort,
as were the cattle which the Colonel requested, and it was very evident
that the Colonel was right when he said that the arrangement would be
advantageous to both parties. Mr. Campbell, instead of drawing money to
pay, this year for the first time received a bill on the government to a
considerable amount for the flour and cattle furnished to the troops;
and Mrs. Campbell's account for fowls, pork, etc., furnished to the
garrison, was by no means to be despised. Thus, by the kindness of
others, his own exertions, and a judicious employment of his small
capital, Mr. Campbell promised to be in a few years a wealthy and
independent man. As soon as the harvest was in, Malachi and John, who
were of no use in thrashing out the corn, renewed their hunting
expeditions, and seldom returned without venison. The Indians had not
been seen by Malachi during his excursions, nor any trace of their
having been in the neighborhood; all alarm, therefore, on that account
was now over, and the family prepared to meet the coming winter with all
the additional precautions which the foregoing had advised them of. But
during the Indian summer they received letters from England, detailing,
as usual, the news relative to friends with whom they had been intimate;
also one from Quebec, informing Mr. Campbell that his application for
the extra grant of land was consented to; and another from Montreal,
from Mr. Emmerson, stating that he had offered terms to two families of
settlers who bore very good characters, and if they were accepted by Mr.
Campbell, the parties would join them at the commencement of the ensuing
spring.
This was highly gratifying to Mr. Campbell, and as the terms were, with
a slight variation, such as he had proposed, he immediately wrote to Mr.
Emmerson, agreeing to terms, and requesting that the bargain might be
concluded. At the same time that the Colonel forwarded the above
letters, he wrote to Mr. Campbell to say that the interior of the fort
required a large quantity of plank for repairs, that he was authorized
to take them from Mr. Campbell, at a certain price, if he could afford
to supply them on these terms, and have them ready by the following
spring. This was another act of kindness on the part of the Colonel, as
it would now give employment to the saw-mill for the winter, and it was
during the winter, and at the time that the snow was on the ground, that
they could easily drag the timber after it was felled to the saw-mill.
Mr. Campbell wrote an answer, thanking the Colonel for his offer, which
he accepted, and promised to have the planks ready by the time the lake
was again open.
At last the winter set in, with its usual fall of snow. Captain Sinclair
took his leave for a long time, much to the sorrow of all the family,
who were warmly attached to him. It was arranged that the only parties
who were to go on the hunting excursions should be Malachi and John, as
Henry had ample employment in the barns; and Martin and Alfred, in
felling timber, and dragging up the stems to the saw-mill, would, with
attending to the mill as well, have their whole time taken up. Such were
the arrangements out of doors, and now that they had lost the services
of poor Percival, and the duties to attend to in doors were so much
increased, Mrs. Campbell and the girls were obliged to call in the
assistance of Mr. Campbell whenever he could be spared from the garden,
which was his usual occupation. Thus glided on the third winter in quiet
and security; but in full employment, and with so much to do and attend
to, that it passed very rapidly.
It was in the month of February, when the snow was very heavy on the
ground, that one day Malachi went up to the mill to Alfred, whom he
found alone attending the saws, which were in full activity; for Martin
was squaring out the timber ready to be sawed at about one hundred
yards' distance.
[Illustration: THE INDIAN LETTER.]
"I am glad to find you alone, sir," said Malachi, "for I have something
of importance to tell you of, and I do not like at present that any
body else should know any thing about it."
"What is it, Malachi?" inquired Alfred.
"Why, sir, when I was out hunting yesterday, I went round to a spot
where I had left a couple of deer-hides last week, that I might bring
them home, and I found a letter stuck to them with a couple of thorns."
"A letter, Malachi!"
"Yes, sir, an Indian letter. Here it is." Malachi then produced a piece
of birch bark, of which the underneath drawing is a fac-simile.
[Illustration]
"Well," said Alfred, "it may be a letter, but I confess it is all Greek
to me. I certainly do not see why you wish to keep it a secret. Tell
me."
"Well, sir, I could not read one of your letters half so well as I can
this; and it contains news of the greatest importance. It's the Indian
way of writing, and I know also whom it comes from. A good action is
never lost, they say, and I am glad to find that there is some
gratitude in an Indian."
"You make me very impatient, Malachi, to know what it means; tell me
from whom do you think the letter comes?"
"Why, sir, do you see this mark here?" said Malachi, pointing to one of
the lowest down on the piece of bark.
"Yes; it is a foot, is it not?"
"Exactly, sir; now, do you know whom it comes from?"
"I can't say I do."
"Do you remember two winters back our picking up the Indian woman, and
carrying her to the house, and your father curing her sprained ankle?"
"Certainly; is it from her?"
"Yes, sir; and you recollect she said that she belonged to the band
which followed the Angry Snake."
"I remember it very well; but now, Malachi, read me the letter at once,
for I am very impatient to know what she can have to say."
"I will, Mr. Alfred; now, sir, there is the sun more than half up, which
with them points out it is the setting and not the rising sun; the
setting sun therefore means to the westward."
"Very good, that is plain, I think."
"There are twelve wigwams, that is, twelve days' journey for a warrior,
which the Indians reckon at about fifteen miles a day. How much does
fifteen times twelve make, sir?"
"One hundred and eighty, Malachi."
"Well, sir, then that is to say that it is one hundred and eighty miles
off, or thereabouts. Now, the first figure is a chief, for it has an
eagle's feather on the head of it, and the snake before it is his
_totem_, 'the Angry Snake,' and the other six are the number of the
band; and you observe, that the chief and the first figure of the six
have a gun in their hands, which is to inform us that they have only two
rifles among them."
"Very true; but what is that little figure following the chief with his
arms behind him?"
"There is the whole mystery of the letter, sir, without which it were
worth nothing. You perceive that little figure has a pair of snow-shoes
over it."
"Yes, I do."
"Well, that little figure is your brother Percival, whom we supposed to
be dead."
"Merciful heavens! is it possible?" exclaimed Alfred; "then he is
alive?"
"There is no doubt of it, sir," replied Malachi; "and now I will put the
whole letter together. Your brother Percival has been carried off by the
Angry Snake and his band, and has been taken to some place one hundred
and eighty miles to the westward, and this information comes from the
Indian woman who belongs to the band, and whose life was preserved by
your kindness. I don't think, Mr. Alfred, that any white person could
have written a letter more plain and more to the purpose."
"I agree with you, Malachi; but the news has so overpowered me, I am so
agitated with joy and anxiety of mind, that I hardly know what to say.
Percival alive! we'll have him, if we have to go one thousand miles and
beat two thousand Indians. Oh, how happy it will make my mother! But
what are we to do, Malachi? tell me, I beseech you."
"We must do nothing, sir," replied Malachi.
"Nothing, Malachi!" replied Alfred with surprise.
"No, sir; nothing at present, at all events. We have the information
that the boy is alive, at least it is presumed so; but of course the
Indians do not know that we have received such information; if they did,
the woman would be killed immediately. Now, sir, the first question we
must ask ourselves is, why they have carried off the boy; for it would
be no use carrying off a little boy in that manner without some object."
"It is the very question that _I_ was going to put to you, Malachi."
"Then, sir, I'll answer it to the best of my knowledge and belief. It is
this: the Angry Snake came to the settlement, and saw our stores of
powder and shot, and every thing else. He would have attacked us last
winter if he had found an opportunity and a chance of success. One of
his band was killed, which taught him that we were on the watch, and he
failed in that attempt: he managed, however, to pick up the boy when he
was lagging behind us, at the time you were wounded by the painter, and
carried him off, and he intends to drive a bargain for his being
restored to us. That is my conviction."
"I have no doubt but that you are right, Malachi," said Alfred, after a
pause. "Well, we must make a virtue of necessity, and give him what he
asks."
"Not so, sir; if we did, it would encourage him to steal again."
"What must we do then?"
"Punish him, if we can; at all events, we must wait at present, and do
nothing. Depend upon it we shall have some communication made to us
through him that the boy is in their possession, and will be restored
upon certain conditions--probably this spring. It will then be time to
consider what is to be done."
"I believe you are right, Malachi."
"I hope to circumvent him yet, sir," replied Malachi; "but we shall
see."
"Well; but, Malachi, are we to let this be known to any body, or keep it
a secret?"
"Well, sir, I've thought of that; we must only let Martin and Strawberry
into the secret; and I would tell them, because they are almost Indians,
as it were; they may have some one coming to them, and there's no fear
of their telling. Martin knows better, and as for the Strawberry, she is
as safe as if she didn't know it."
"I believe you are right; and still what delight it would give my father
and mother!"
"Yes, sir, and all the family too, I have no doubt, for the first hour
or two after you had told them; but what pain it would give them for
months afterward. 'Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,' as my father
used to read out of the Bible, and that's the truth, sir. Only consider
how your father, and particularly your mother, would fret and pine
during the whole time, and what a state of anxiety they would be in;
they would not eat or sleep. No, no, sir; it would be a cruelty to tell
them, and it must not be. Nothing can be done till the spring, at all
events, and we must wait till the messenger comes to us."
"You are right, Malachi; then do as you say, make the communication to
Martin and his wife,--and I will keep the secret as faithfully as they
will."
"It's a great point our knowing whereabouts the boy is," observed
Malachi; "for if it is necessary to make a party to go for him, we know
what direction to go in. And it is also a great point to know the
strength of the enemy, as now we shall know what force we must take with
us in case it is necessary to recover the lad by force or stratagem. All
this we gained from the letter, and shall not learn from any messenger
sent to us by the Angry Snake, whose head I hope to bruise before I've
done with him."
"If I meet him, one of us shall fall," observed Alfred.
"No doubt, sir, no doubt," replied Malachi, "but if we can retake the
boy by other means, so much the better. A man, bad or good, has but one
life and God gave it to him. It is not for his fellow-creatures to take
it away unless from necessity. I hope to have the boy without shedding
of blood."
"I am willing to have him back upon any terms, Malachi; and, as you say,
if we can do it without shedding of blood, all the better; but have him
I will, if I have to kill a hundred Indians."
"That's right, sir; that's right; only let it be the last resort;
recollect the Indian seeks the powder and ball, not the life of the boy;
and recollect if we had not been so careless as to tempt him with the
sight of what he values so much, he never would have annoyed us thus."
"That is true; well then, Malachi, it shall be as you propose in every
thing."
The conversation was here finished; Alfred and all those who were
possessed of the secret never allowed the slightest hint to drop of
their knowledge. The winter passed away without interruption of any
kind. Before the snow had disappeared the seed was all prepared ready
for sowing; the planks had been sawed out, and all the wheat not
required for seed had been ground down and put into flour-barrels, ready
for any further demand from the fort. And thus terminated the third
winter in Canada.