"Fear not: ye are of more value than many sparrows."--_St. Luke_.
The sun had risen in all the splendour of a Canadian summer morning
when the sleepers arose from their leafy beds. In spite of the novelty
of their situation, they had slept as soundly and tranquilly as if
they had been under the protecting care of their beloved parents, on
their little palliasses of corn straw; but they had been cared for by
Him who neither slumbereth nor sleepeth, and they waked full of
youthful hope, and in fulness of faith in His mercy into whose hands
they had commended their souls and bodies before they retired to rest.
While the children slept in peace and safety, what terrors had filled
the minds of their distracted parents! what a night of anguish and
sorrow had they passed!
When night had closed in without bringing back the absent children,
the two fathers, lighting torches of fat pine, went forth in search of
the wanderers. How often did they raise their voices in hopes their
loud halloos might reach the hearing of the lost ones! How often did
they check their hurried steps to listen for some replying call! But
the sighing breeze in the pine tops, or sudden rustling of the leaves
caused by the flight of the birds startled by the unusual glare of the
torches, and the echoes of their own voices, were the only sounds that
met their anxious ears. At daybreak they returned, sad and dispirited,
to their homes, to snatch a morsel of food, endeavour to cheer the
drooping hearts of the weeping mothers, and hurry off, taking
different directions. But, unfortunately, they had little clue to the
route which Hector and Louis had taken, there being many cattle-paths
through the woods. Louis's want of truthfulness had caused this
uncertainty, as he had left no intimation of the path he purposed
taking when he quitted his mother's house. He had merely said he was
going with Hector in search of the cattle, giving no hint of his
intention of asking Catharine to accompany them; he had but told his
sick sister that he would bring home strawberries and flowers, and
that he would soon return. Alas! poor, thoughtless Louis! how little
did you think of the web of woe you were then weaving for yourself,
and all those to whom you and your companions were so dear! Children,
think twice ere ye deceive once.
Catharine's absence would have been quite unaccountable but for the
testimony of Duncan and Kenneth, who had received her sisterly
caresses before she joined Hector at the barn; and much her mother
marvelled what could have induced her good, dutiful Catharine to have
left her work and forsaken her household duties to go rambling away
with the boys, for she never left the house when her mother was absent
from it without her express permission. And now she was gone,--lost to
them perhaps for ever. There stood the wheel she had been turning;
there hung the untwisted hanks of yarn, her morning task; and there
they remained week after week, and month after month, untouched,--a
melancholy memorial to the hearts of the bereaved parents of their
beloved.
It were indeed a fruitless task to follow the agonized fathers in
their vain search for their children, or to paint the bitter anguish
that filled their hearts as day passed after day, and still no tidings
of the lost ones. As hope faded, a deep and settled gloom stole over
the sorrowing parents, and reigned throughout the once cheerful and
gladsome homes. At the end of a week the only idea that remained was,
that one of these three casualties had befallen the lost
children,--death, a lingering death by famine; death, cruel and
horrible, by wolves or bears; or, yet more terrible, with tortures by
the hands of the dreaded Indians, who occasionally held their councils
and hunting-parties on the hills about the Rice Lake, which was known
only by the elder Perron as the scene of many bloody encounters
between the rival tribes of the Mohawks and Chippewas. Its localities
were scarcely ever visited by the settlers, lest haply they should
fall into the hands of the bloody Mohawks, whose merciless disposition
made them in those days a by-word even to the less cruel Chippewas and
other Indian nations.
It was not in the direction of the Rice Lake that Maxwell and his
brother-in-law sought their lost children; and even if they had done
so, among the deep glens and hill passes of what is now commonly
called the Plains, they would have stood little chance of discovering
the poor wanderers. After many days of fatigue of body and distress of
mind, the sorrowing parents sadly relinquished the search as utterly
hopeless, and mourned in bitterness of spirit over the disastrous fate
of their first-born and beloved children. "There was a voice of woe,
and lamentation, and great mourning; Rachel weeping for her children,
and refusing to be comforted, because they were not."
The miserable uncertainty that involved the fate of the lost ones was
an aggravation to the sufferings of the mourners. Could they but have
been certified of the manner of their deaths, they fancied they should
be more contented; but, alas! this fearful satisfaction was withheld
"Oh, were their tale of sorrow known,
'Twere something to the breaking heart;
The pangs of doubt would then be gone,
And fancy's endless dreams depart."
But let us quit the now mournful settlement of Cold Springs, and see
how it really fared with the young wanderers.
When they awoke, the valley was filled with a white creamy mist, that
arose from the bed of the stream (now known as Cold Creek), and gave
an indistinctness to the whole landscape, investing it with an
appearance perfectly different to that which it had worn by the
bright, clear light of the moon. No trace of their footsteps remained
to guide them in retracing their path, so hard and dry was the stony
ground that it left no impression on its surface. It was with some
difficulty they found the creek, which was concealed from sight by a
lofty screen of gigantic hawthorns, high-bush cranberries, poplars,
and birch trees. The hawthorn was in blossom, and gave out a sweet
perfume, not less fragrant than the "May," which makes the lanes and
hedgerows of "merrie old England" so sweet and fair in May and June.
At length their path began to grow more difficult. A tangled mass of
cedars, balsams, birch, black ash, alders, and _tamarack_ (Indian
name for the larch), with a dense thicket of bushes and shrubs, such
as love the cool, damp soil of marshy ground, warned our travellers
that they must quit the banks of the friendly stream, or they might
become entangled in a trackless swamp. Having taken copious and
refreshing draughts from the bright waters, and bathed their hands and
faces, they ascended the grassy bank, and, again descending, found
themselves in one of those long valleys, enclosed between lofty
sloping banks, clothed with shrubs and oaks, with here and there a
stately pine. Through this second valley they pursued their way, till,
emerging into a wider space, they came among those singularly
picturesque groups of rounded gravel-hills, where the Cold Creek once
more met their view, winding its way towards a grove of evergreens,
where it was again lost to the eye.
This lovely spot was known as Sackville's Mill-dike. The hand of man
had curbed the free course of the wild forest stream, and made it
subservient to his will, but could not destroy the natural beauties of
the scene.
Fearing to entangle themselves in the swamp, they kept the hilly
ground, winding their way up to the summit of the lofty ridge of the
oak hills, the highest ground they had yet attained; and here it was
that the silver waters of the Rice Lake in all its beauty burst upon
the eyes of the wondering and delighted travellers. There it lay, a
sheet of liquid silver, just emerging from the blue veil of mist that
hung upon its surface and concealed its wooded shores on either side.
All feeling of dread, and doubt, and danger was lost for the time in
one rapturous glow of admiration at the scene so unexpected and so
beautiful as that which they now gazed upon from the elevation they
had gained. From this ridge they looked down the lake, and the eye
could take in an extent of many miles, with its verdant wooded
islands, which stole into view one by one as the rays of the morning
sun drew up the moving curtain of mist that enveloped them; and soon
both northern and southern shores became distinctly visible, with all
their bays, and capes, and swelling oak and pine crowned hills.
And now arose the question, "Where are we? What lake is this? Can it
be the Ontario, or is it the Rice Lake? Can yonder shores be those of
the Americans, or are they the hunting-grounds of the dreaded
Indians?" Hector remembered having often heard his father say that the
Ontario was like an inland sea, and the opposite shores not visible
unless in some remarkable state of the atmosphere, when they had been
occasionally discerned by the naked eye; while here they could
distinctly see objects on the other side, the peculiar growth of the
trees, and even flights of wild fowl winging their way among the rice
and low bushes on its margin. The breadth of the lake from shore to
shore could not, they thought, exceed three or four miles; while its
length, in an easterly direction, seemed far greater,--beyond what
the eye could take in. [Footnote: The length of the Rice Lake, from
its head-waters near Black's Landing to the mouth of the Trent, is
said to be twenty-five miles; its breadth, from north to south, varies
from three to six.]
They now quitted the lofty ridge, and bent their steps towards the
lake. Wearied with their walk, they seated themselves beneath the
shade of a beautiful feathery pine, on a high promontory that
commanded a magnificent view down the lake.
"How pleasant it would be to have a house on this delightful bank,
overlooking the lake!" said Louis. "Only think of the fish we could
take, and the ducks and wild fowl we could shoot; and it would be no
very hard matter to hollow out a log canoe, such a one as I have heard
my father say he has rowed in across many a lake and broad river
below, when he was lumbering."
"Yes, it would, indeed, be a pleasant spot to live upon," said Hector,
"though I am not quite sure that the land is as good just here as it
is at Cold Springs; but all those flats and rich valleys would make
fine pastures, and produce plenty of grain, too, if cultivated."
"You always look to the main chance, Hec," said Louis, laughing;
"well, it was worth a few hours' walking this morning to look upon so
lovely a sheet of water as this. I would spend two nights in a
wigwam,--would not you, ma belle?--to enjoy such a sight."
"Yes, Louis," replied his cousin, hesitating as she spoke; "it is very
pretty, and I did not mind sleeping in the little hut; but then I
cannot enjoy myself as much as I should have done had my father and
mother been aware of my intention of accompanying you. Ah, my dear,
dear parents!" she added, as the thought of the anguish the absence of
her companions and herself would cause at home came over her. "How I
wish I had remained at home! Selfish Catharine! foolish, idle girl!"
Poor Louis was overwhelmed with grief at the sight of his cousin's
tears; and as the kind-hearted but thoughtless boy bent over her to
soothe and console her, his own tears fell upon the fair locks of the
weeping girl, and dropped on the hand he held between his own.
"If you cry thus, cousin," he whispered, "you will break poor Louis's
heart, already sore enough with thinking of his foolish conduct."
"Be not cast down, Catharine," said her brother cheeringly; "we may
not be so far from home as you think. As soon as you are rested, we
will set out again, and we may find something to eat; there must be
strawberries on these sunny banks."
Catharine soon yielded to the voice of her brother, and drying her
eyes, proceeded to descend the sides of the steep valley that lay to
one side of the high ground where they had been sitting.
Suddenly darting down the bank, she exclaimed, "Come, Hector! come,
Louis! here indeed is provision to keep us from starving;" for her eye
had caught the bright red strawberries among the flowers and herbage
on the slope--large ripe strawberries, the very finest she had ever
seen.
"There is, indeed, ma belle," said Louis, stooping as he spoke to
gather up, not the fruit, but a dozen fresh partridge's eggs from the
inner shade of a thick tuft of grass and herbs that grew beside a
fallen tree. Catharine's voice and sudden movements had startled the
ruffed grouse [Footnote: The Canadian partridge is a species of
grouse, larger than the English or French partridge. We refer our
young readers to the finely arranged specimens in the British Museum
(open to the public), where they may discover "Louis's partridge."]
from her nest, and the eggs were soon transferred to Louis's straw
hat, while a stone flung by the steady hand of Hector stunned the
parent bird. The boys laughed exultingly as they displayed their
prizes to the astonished Catharine, who, in spite of hunger, could not
help regretting the death of the mother bird. Girls and women rarely
sympathize with men and boys in their field sports, and Hector laughed
at his sister's doleful looks as he handed over the bird to her.
"It was a lucky chance," said he, "and the stone was well aimed, but
it is not the first partridge that I have killed in this way. They are
so stupid you may even run them down at times; I hope to get another
before the day is over.
"Well, there is no fear of starving to-day, at all events," he added,
as he inspected the contents of his cousin's hat; "twelve nice fresh
eggs, a bird, and plenty of fruit."
"But how shall we cook the bird and the eggs? We have no means of
getting a fire made," said Catharine.
"As to the eggs," said Louis, "we can eat them raw; it is not for
hungry wanderers like us to be over-nice about our food."
"They would satisfy us much better were they boiled, or roasted in the
ashes," observed Hector.
"True. Well, a fire, I think, can be got with a little trouble."
"But how?" asked Hector.
"Oh, there are many ways, but the readiest would be a flint with the
help of my knife."
"A flint?"
"Yes, if we could get one: but I see nothing but granite, which
crumbles and shivers when struck--we could not get a spark. However, I
think it's very likely that one of the round pebbles I see on the
beach yonder may be found hard enough for the purpose."
To the shore they bent their steps as soon as the little basket had
been well filled with strawberries; and descending the precipitous
bank, fringed with young saplings; birch, ash, and poplars, they
quickly found themselves beside the bright waters of the lake. A flint
was soon found among the water-worn stones that lay thickly strewn
upon the shore, and a handful of dry sedge, almost as inflammable as
tinder, was collected without trouble: though Louis, with the
recklessness of his nature, had coolly proposed to tear a strip from
his cousin's apron as a substitute for tinder,--a proposal that
somewhat raised the indignation of the tidy Catharine, whose ideas of
economy and neatness were greatly outraged, especially as she had no
sewing implements to assist in mending the rent. Louis thought nothing
of that; it was a part of his character to think only of the present,
little of the past, and to let the future provide for itself. Such was
Louis's great failing, which had proved a fruitful source of trouble
both to himself and others. In this respect he bore a striking
contrast to his more cautious companion, who possessed much of the
gravity of his father. Hector was as heedful and steady in his
decisions as Louis was rash and impetuous.
After many futile attempts, and some skin knocked off their knuckles
through awkward handling of the knife and flint, a good fire was at
last kindled, as there was no lack of dry wood on the shore. Catharine
then triumphantly produced her tin pot, and the eggs were boiled,
greatly to the satisfaction of all parties, who were by this time
sufficiently hungry, having eaten nothing since the previous evening
more substantial than the strawberries they had taken during the time
they were gathering them in the morning.
Catharine had selected a pretty, cool, shady recess, a natural bower,
under the overhanging growth of [Illustration: THE FIRST BREAKFAST.]
cedars, poplars, and birch, which were wreathed together by the
flexible branches of the wild grape vine and bitter-sweet, which
climbed to a height of fifteen feet [Footnote: _Celastrus
scandens_,--bitter-sweet or woody nightshade. This plant, like the
red-berried bryony of England, is highly ornamental. It possesses
powerful properties as a medicine, and is in high reputation among the
Indians.] among the branches of the trees, which it covered as with a
mantle. A pure spring of cold, delicious water welled out from beneath
the twisted roots of an old hoary-barked cedar, and found its way
among the shingle on the beach to the lake, a humble but constant
tributary to its waters. Some large blocks of water-worn stone formed
convenient seats and a natural table, on which the little maiden
arranged the forest fare; and never was a meal made with greater
appetite or taken with more thankfulness than that which our wanderers
ate that morning. The eggs (part of which they reserved for another
time) were declared to be better than those that were daily produced
from the little hen-house at Cold Springs. The strawberries, set out
in little pottles made with the shining leaves of the oak, ingeniously
pinned together by Catharine with the long spurs of the hawthorn, were
voted delicious, and the pure water most refreshing, that they drank,
for lack of better cups, from a large mussel-shell which Catharine had
picked up among the weeds and pebbles on the beach.
Many children would have wandered about weeping and disconsolate,
lamenting their sad fate, or have imbittered the time by useless
repining, or, perhaps, by venting their uneasiness in reviling the
principal author of their calamity--poor, thoughtless Louis; but such
were not the dispositions of our young Canadians. Early accustomed to
the hardships incidental to the lives of the settlers in the bush,
these young people had learned to bear with patience and cheerfulness
privations that would have crushed the spirits of children more
delicately nurtured. They had known every degree of hunger and
nakedness: during the first few years of their lives they had often
been compelled to subsist for days and weeks upon roots and herbs,
wild fruits, and game which their fathers had learned to entrap, to
decoy, and to shoot. Thus Louis and Hector had early been initiated
into the mysteries of the chase. They could make dead-falls, and pits,
and traps, and snares; they were as expert as Indians in the use of
the bow; they could pitch a stone or fling a wooden dart at partridge,
hare, and squirrel with almost unerring aim; and were as swift of foot
as young fawns. Now it was that they learned to value in its fullest
extent this useful and practical knowledge, which enabled them to face
with fortitude the privations of a life so precarious as that to which
they were now exposed.
It was one of the elder Maxwell's maxims,--Never, let difficulties
overcome you, but rather strive to conquer them; let the head direct
the hand, and the hand, like a well-disciplined soldier, obey the head
as chief. When his children expressed any doubts of not being able to
accomplish any work they had begun, he would say, "Have you not hands,
have you not a head, have you not eyes to see, and reason to guide
you? As for impossibilities, they do not belong to the trade of a
soldier,--he dare not see them." Thus were energy and perseverance
early instilled into the minds of his children. They were now called
upon to give practical proofs of the precepts that had been taught
them in childhood. Hector trusted to his axe, and Louis to his
_couteau de chasse_ and pocket-knife,--the latter was a present from
an old forest friend of his father's, who had visited them the
previous winter, and which, by good luck, Louis had in his pocket,--a
capacious pouch, in which were stored many precious things, such as
coils of twine and string, strips of leather, with odds and ends of
various kinds--nails, bits of iron, leather, and such miscellaneous
articles as find their way most mysteriously into boys' pockets in
general, and Louis Perron's in particular, who was a wonderful
collector of such small matters.
The children were not easily daunted by the prospect of passing a few
days abroad on so charming a spot, and at such a lovely season, where
fruits were so abundant; and when they had finished their morning
meal, so providentially placed within their reach, they gratefully
acknowledged the mercy of God in this thing.
Having refreshed themselves by bathing their hands and faces in the
lake, they cheerfully renewed their wanderings, though something loath
to leave the cool shade and the spring for an untrodden path among the
hills and deep ravines that furrow the shores of the Rice Lake in so
remarkable a manner; and often did our weary wanderers pause to look
upon the wild glens and precipitous hills, where the fawn and the shy
deer found safe retreats, unharmed by the rifle of the hunter, where
the osprey and white-headed eagle built their nests, unheeded and
unharmed. Twice that day, misled by following the track of the deer,
had they returned to the samespot,--a deep and lovely glen, which had
once been a watercourse, but was now a green and shady valley. This
they named the Valley of the Rock, from a remarkable block of red
granite that occupied a central position in the narrow defile; and
here they prepared to pass their second night on the Plains. A few
boughs cut down and interlaced with the shrubs round a small space
cleared with Hector's axe, formed shelter, and leaves and grass,
strewed on the ground, formed a bed--though not so smooth, perhaps, as
the bark and cedar boughs that the Indians spread within their summer
wigwams for carpets and couches, or the fresh heather that the
Highlanders gather on the wild Scottish hills.
While Hector and Louis were preparing the sleeping chamber, Catharine
busied herself in preparing the partridge for their supper. Having
collected some thin peelings from the rugged bark of a birch tree that
grew on the side of the steep bank to which she gave the appropriate
name of the "Birken Shaw," she dried it in her bosom, and then beat it
fine upon a big stone, till it resembled the finest white paper. This
proved excellent tinder, the aromatic oil contained in the bark of the
birch being highly inflammable. Hector had prudently retained the
flint that they had used in the morning, and a fire was now lighted in
front of the rocky stone, and a forked stick, stuck in the ground, and
bent over the coals, served as a spit, on which, gipsy-fashion, the
partridge was suspended,--a scanty meal, but thankfully partaken of,
though they knew not how they should breakfast next morning. The
children felt they were pensioners on God's providence not less than
the wild denizens of the wilderness around them.
When Hector--who by nature was less sanguine than his sister or
cousin--expressed some anxiety for their provisions for the morrow,
Catharine, who had early listened with trusting piety of heart to the
teaching of her father, when he read portions from the holy Word of
God, gently laid her hand upon her brother's head, which rested on her
knees, as he sat upon the grass beside her, and said, in a low and
earnest tone, "'Consider the fowls of the air: they sow not, neither
do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth
them. Are ye not much better than they?' Surely, my brother, God
careth for us as much as for the wild creatures that have no sense to
praise and glorify his holy name. God cares for the creatures he has
made, and supplies them with knowledge where they shall find food when
they hunger and thirst. So I have heard my father say; and surely our
father knows, for is he not a wise man, Hector?"
"I remember," said Louis thoughtfully, "hearing my mother repeat the
words of a good old man she knew when she lived in Quebec. 'When you
are in trouble, Mathilde,' he used to say to her, 'kneel down and ask
God's help, nothing doubting but that he has the power as well as the
will to serve you, if it be for your good; for he is able to bring all
things to pass. It is our own want of faith that prevents our prayers
from being heard.' And, truly, I think the wise old man was right," he
added.
It was strange to hear grave words like these from the lips of the
giddy Louis. Possibly they had the greater weight on that account. And
Hector, looking up with a serious air, replied, "Your mother's friend
was a good man, Louis. Our want of trust in God's power must displease
him. And when we think of all the great and glorious things he has
made,--that blue sky, those sparkling stars, the beautiful moon that
is now shining down upon us, and the hills and waters, the mighty
forest, and little creeping plants and flowers that grow at our
feet,--it must, indeed, seem foolish in his eyes that we should doubt
his power to help us, who not only made all these things but ourselves
also."
"True," said Catharine; "but then, Hector, we are not as God made us;
for the wicked one cast bad seed in the field where God had sown the
good."
"Let us, however, consider what we shall do for food; for you know God
helps those that help themselves," said Louis. "Let us consider a
little. There must be plenty of fish in the lake, both small and
great."
"But how are we to get them out of it?" rejoined Catharine. "I doubt
the fish will swim at their ease there, while we go hungry."
"Do not interrupt me, ma chere. Then, we see the track of deer, and
the holes of the wood-chuck; we hear the cry of squirrels and
chitmunks, and there are plenty of partridges, and ducks, and quails,
and snipes;--of course, we have to contrive some way to kill them.
Fruits there are in abundance, and plenty of nuts of different kinds.
At present we have plenty of fine strawberries, and huckleberries will
be ripe soon in profusion, and bilberries too, and you know how
pleasant they are; as for raspberries, I see none; but by-and-by there
will be May-apples (_Podophyllum peltatum_)--I see great quantities
of them in the low grounds; grapes, high-bush cranberries, haws as
large as cherries, and sweet too, squaw-berries, wild-plums,
choke-cherries, and bird-cherries. As to sweet acorns, there will be
bushels and bushels of them for the roasting, as good as chestnuts, to
my taste, and butter-nuts, and hickory-nuts with many other good
things." And here Louis stopped for want of breath to continue his
catalogue of forest dainties.
"Yes, and there are bears, and wolves, and raccoons too, that will eat
us for want of better food," interrupted Hector slyly. "Nay, Katty, do
not shudder, as if you were already in the clutches of a big bear.
Neither bear nor wolf shall make mincemeat of thee, my girl, while
Louis and thy brother are near to wield an axe or a knife in thy
defence."
"Nor catamount spring upon thee, ma belle cousine," added Louis
gallantly, "while thy bold cousin Louis can scare him away."
"Well, now that we know our resources, the next thing is to consider
how we are to obtain them, my dears," said Catharine. "For fishing,
you know, we must have a hook and line, a rod, or a net. Now, where
are these to be met with?"
Louis nodded his head sagaciously. "The line I think I can provide;
the hook is more difficult, but I do not despair even of that. As to
the rod, it can be cut from any slender sapling on the shore. A net,
ma chere, I could make with very little trouble, if I had but a piece
of cloth to sew over a hoop."
Catharine laughed. "You are very ingenious, no doubt, Monsieur Louis;
but where are you to get the cloth and the hoop, and the means of
sewing it on?"
Louis took up the corner of his cousin's apron with a provoking look.
"My apron, sir, is not to be appropriated for any such purpose. You
seem to covet it for everything."
"Indeed, ma petite, I think it very unbecoming and very ugly, and
never could see any good reason why you, and mamma, and Mathilde
should wear such frightful things."
"It is to keep our gowns clean, Louis, when we are milking, and
scrubbing, and doing all sorts of household duties," said Catharine.
"Well, ma belle, you have neither cows to milk nor house to clean,"
replied the annoying boy; "so there can be little want of the apron. I
could turn it to fifty useful purposes."
"Pooh, nonsense," said Hector impatiently; "let the child alone, and
do not tease her about her apron."
"Well, then, there is another good thing I did not think of
before--water mussels. I have heard my father and old Jacob the
lumberer say that, roasted in their shells in the ashes, with a
seasoning of salt and pepper, they are good eating when nothing better
is to be got."
"No doubt, if the seasoning can be procured," said Hector; "but, alas
for the salt and the pepper!"
"Well, we can eat them with the best of all sauces--hunger. And then,
no doubt, there are crayfish in the gravel under the stones; but we
must not mind a pinch to our fingers in taking them."
"To-morrow, then, let us breakfast on fish," said Hector. "You and I
will try our luck, while Kate gathers strawberries; and if our line
should break, we can easily cut those long locks from Catharine's head
and twist them into lines." And Hector laid his hands upon the long
fair hair that hung in shining curls about his sister's neck.
"Cut my curls! This is even worse than cousin Louis's proposal of
making tinder and fishing-nets of my apron," said Catharine, shaking
back the bright tresses which, escaping from the snood that bound
them, fell in golden waves over her shoulders.
"In truth, Hec, it were a sin and a shame to cut her pretty curls,
that become her so well," said Louis. "But we have no scissors, ma
belle, so you need fear no injury to your precious locks."
"For the matter of that, Louis, we could cut them with your _couteau
de chaise_. I could tell you a story that my father told me, not long
since, of Charles Stuart, the second king of that name in England. You
know he was the granduncle of the young chevalier, Charles Edward,
that my father talks of, and loves so much."
"I know all about him," said Catharine, nodding sagaciously; "let us
hear the story of his granduncle. But I should like to know what my
hair and Louis's knife can have to do with King Charles."
"Wait a bit, Kate, and you shall hear--that is, if you have patience,"
said her brother. "Well then, you must know, that after some great
battle, the name of which I forget, [Footnote: Battle of Worcester] in
which the king and his handful of brave soldiers were defeated by the
forces of the Parliament (the Roundheads, as they were called), the
poor young king was hunted like a partridge upon the mountains, a
large price was set on his head, to be given to any traitor who should
slay him or bring him prisoner to Oliver Cromwell. He was obliged to
dress himself in all sorts of queer clothes, and hide in all manner of
strange, out-of-the-way places, and keep company with rude and humble
men, the better to hide his real rank from the cruel enemies that
sought his life. Once he hid along with a gallant gentleman,
[Footnote: Colonel Careless.] one of his own brave officers, in the
branches of a great oak. Once he was hid in a mill; and another time
he was in the house of one Pendril, a woodman. The soldiers of the
Parliament, who were always prowling about, and popping in unawares
wherever they suspected the poor king to be hidden, were at one time
in the very room where he was standing beside the fire."
"Oh!" exclaimed Catharine, "that was frightful. And did they take him
prisoner?"
"No; for the wise woodman and his brothers, fearing lest the soldiers
should discover that he was a cavalier and a gentleman, by the long
curls that the king's men all wore in those days, and called
_lovelocks_, begged of his majesty to let his hair be cropped close to
his head."
"That was very hard, to lose his nice curls."
"I dare say the young king thought so too; but it was better to lose
his hair than his head. So, I suppose, the men told him; for he
suffered them to cut it all close to his head, laying down his head on
a rough deal table, or a chopping-block, while his faithful friends
with a large knife trimmed off the curls."
"I wonder if the young king thought at that minute of his poor father,
who, you know, was forced by wicked men to lay down his head upon a
block to have it cut from his shoulders, because Cromwell, and others
as hard-hearted as himself, willed that he should die."
"Poor king!" said Catharine, sighing; "I see that it is better to be
poor children, wandering on these plains under God's own care, than to
be kings and princes at the mercy of bad and sinful men."
"Who told your father all these things, Hec?" said Louis.
"It was the son of his brave colonel, who knew a great deal about the
history of the Stuart kings, for our colonel had been with Prince
Charles, the young chevalier, and fought by his side when he was in
Scotland. He loved him dearly, and after the battle of Culloden, where
the prince lost all, and was driven from place to place, and had not
where to lay his head, he went abroad in hopes of better times. But
those times did not come for the poor prince; and our colonel, after a
while, through the friendship of General Wolfe, got a commission in
the army that was embarking for Quebec, and at last commanded the
regiment to which my father belonged. He was a kind man, and my father
loved both him and his son, and grieved not a little when he parted
from him."
"Well," said-Catharine, "as you have told me such a nice story, Mister
Hec, I shall forgive the affront about my curls."
"Well, then, to-morrow we are to try our luck at fishing, and if we
fail, we will make us bows and arrows to kill deer or small game; I
fancy we shall not be over-particular as to its quality. Why should
not we be able to find subsistence as well as the wild Indians?"
"True," said Hector; "the wild men of the wilderness, and the animals
and birds, all are fed by the things that He provideth; then wherefore
should His white children fear?"
"I have often heard my father tell of the privations of the lumberers,
when they have fallen short of provisions, and of the contrivances of
himself and old Jacob Morelle when they were lost for several days,
nay, weeks I believe it was. Like the Indians, they made themselves
bows and arrows, using the sinews of the deer, or fresh thongs of
leather, for bow-strings; and when they could not get game to eat,
they boiled the inner bark of the slippery elm to jelly, or birch
bark, and drank the sap of the sugar maple when they could get no
water but melted snow only, which is unwholesome: at last they even
boiled their own moccasins."
"Indeed, Louis, that must have been a very unsavoury dish," said
Catharine.
"That old buck-skin vest would have made a famous pot of soup of
itself," added Hector, "or the deer-skin hunting shirt."
"They might have been reduced even to that," said Louis, laughing,
"but for the good fortune that befell them in the way of a
half-roasted bear."
"Nonsense, Cousin Louis; bears do not run about ready roasted in the
forest, like the lambs in the old nursery tale."
"Kate, this was a fact; at least it was told as one by old Jacob, and
my father did not deny it. Shall I tell you about it? After passing
several hungry days, with no better food to keep them alive than the
scrapings of the inner bark of the poplars and elms, which was not
very substantial for hearty men, they encamped one night in a thick
dark swamp,--not the sort of place they would have chosen, but they
could not help themselves, having been enticed into it by the tracks
of a deer or a moose,--and night came upon them unawares, so they set
to work to kindle a fire with spunk, and a flint and knife; rifle they
had none, or maybe they would have had game to eat.
"Old Jacob fixed upon a huge hollow pine that lay across their path,
against which he soon piled a glorious heap of boughs and arms of
trees, and whatever wood he could collect, and lighted up a fine fire.
The wood was dry pine and cedar and birch, and it blazed away, and
crackled and burned like a pine-torch. By-and-by they heard a most
awful growling close to them. 'That's a big bear, as I live,' said old
Jacob, looking all about, thinking to see one come out from the thick
bush. But Bruin was nearer to him than he thought; for presently a
great black bear burst out from the butt-end of the great burning log,
and made towards Jacob. Just then the wind blew the flame outward, and
it caught the bear's thick coat, and he was all in a blaze in a
moment. No doubt the heat of the fire had penetrated to the hollow of
the log, where he had lain himself snugly up for the winter, and
wakened him. Jacob seeing the huge black brute all in a flame of fire,
roared with fright; the bear roared with pain and rage; and my father
roared with laughing to see Jacob's terror. But he did not let the
bear laugh at him, for he seized a thick pole that he had used for
closing in the brands and logs, and soon demolished the bear, who was
so blinded with the fire and smoke that he made no fight; and they
feasted on roast bear's flesh for many days, and got a capital skin to
cover them beside."
"What, Louis! after the fur was all singed?" said Catharine.
"Kate, you are too particular," said Louis; "a story never loses, you
know."
Hector laughed heartily at the adventure, and enjoyed the dilemma of
the bear in his winter quarters; but Catharine was somewhat shocked at
the levity displayed by her cousin and brother when recounting the
terror of old Jacob and the sufferings of the poor bear.
"You boys are always so unfeeling," she said gravely.
"Indeed, Kate," said her brother, "the day may come when the sight of
a good piece of roast bear's flesh will be no unwelcome sight. If we
do not find our way back to Cold Springs before the winter sets in, we
may be reduced to as bad a state as poor Jacob and my uncle were in
the pine swamps on the banks of the St. John."
"Ah!" said Catharine, trembling, "that would be too bad to happen."
"Courage, ma belle; let us not despair for the morrow. Let us see what
tomorrow will do for us; meantime, we will not neglect the blessings
we still possess. See, our partridge is ready; let us eat our supper,
and be thankful; and for grace let us say, 'Sufficient unto the day is
the evil thereof.'"
Long exposure to the air had sharpened their appetites. The hungry
wanderers needed no further invitation. The scanty meal, equally
divided, was soon despatched.
It is a common saying, but excellent to be remembered by any wanderers
in our forest wilds, that those who travel by the sun travel in a
circle, and usually find themselves at night in the same place from
whence they started in the morning; so it was with our wanderers. At
sunset they found themselves once more in the ravine, beside the big
stone, in which they had rested at noon. They had imagined themselves
miles distant from it: they were grievously disappointed. They had
encouraged each other with the confident hope that they were drawing
near to the end of their bewildering journey: they were as far from
their home as ever, without the slightest clue to guide them to the
right path. Despair is not a feeling which takes deep root in the
youthful breast. The young are always hopeful; so confident in their
own wisdom and skill in averting or conquering danger; so trusting; so
willing to believe that there is a peculiar Providence watching over
them. Poor children! they had indeed need of such a belief to
strengthen their minds and encourage them to fresh exertions, for new
trials were at hand.
The broad moon had already flooded the recesses of the glen with
light, and all looked fresh and lovely in the dew which glittered on
tree and leaf, on herb and flower. Catharine, who, though weary with
her fatiguing wanderings, could not sleep, left the little hut of
boughs her companions had put up near the granite rock in the valley
for her accommodation, and ascended the western bank, where the last
jutting spur of its steep side formed a lofty cliff-like promontory,
at the extreme verge of which the roots of one tall spreading oak
formed a most inviting seat, from whence the traveller looked down
into a level tract, which stretched away to the edge of the lake.
This flat had been the estuary of the mountain stream which had once
rushed down between the hills, forming a narrow gorge; but now all was
changed: the waters had ceased to flow, the granite bed was overgrown
and carpeted with deer-grass and flowers of many hues, wild fruits and
bushes, below, while majestic oaks and pines towered above. A sea of
glittering foliage lay beneath Catharine's feet; in the distance the
eye of the young girl rested on a belt of shining waters, which girt
in the shores like a silver zone; beyond, yet more remote to the
northward, stretched the illimitable forest.
Never had Catharine looked upon a scene so still or so fair to the
eye; a holy calm seemed to shed its influence over her young mind, and
peaceful tears stole down her cheeks. Not a sound was there abroad,
scarcely a leaf stirred; she could have stayed for hours there gazing
on the calm beauty of nature, and communing with her own heart, when
suddenly a stirring rustling sound caught her ear; it came from a
hollow channel on one side of the promontory, which was thickly
overgrown with the shrubby dogwood, wild roses, and bilberry bushes.
Imagine the terror which seized the poor girl on perceiving the head
of a black elk breaking through the covert of the bushes. With a
scream and a bound, which the most deadly fear alone could have
inspired, Catharine sprung from the supporting trunk of the oak, and
dashed down the precipitous side of the ravine; now clinging to the
bending sprays of the flexile dogwood, now to some fragile birch or
poplar--now trusting to the yielding heads of the sweet-scented
ceanothus, or filling her hands with sharp thorns from the roses that
clothed the bank,--flowers, grass, all were alike clutched at in her
rapid and fearful descent.
A loose fragment of granite on which she had unwittingly placed her
foot rolled from under her; unable to regain her balance she fell
forwards, and was precipitated through the bushes into the ravine
below, conscious only of unspeakable terror and an agonizing pain in
one of her ankles which rendered her quite powerless. The noise of the
stones she had dislodged in her fall, and her piteous cries, brought
Louis and Hector to her side, and they bore her in their arms to the
hut of boughs, and laid her down upon her bed of leaves and grass and
young pine boughs. When Catharine was able to speak, she related to
Louis and Hector the cause of her fright. She was sure it must have
been a wolf by his sharp teeth, long jaws, and grizzly coat. The last
glance she had had of him had filled her with terror; he was standing
on a fallen tree, with his eyes fixed upon her. She could tell them no
more that happened; she never felt the ground she was on, so great was
her fright.
Hector was half disposed to scold his sister for rambling over the
hills alone; but Louis was full of tender compassion for _la belle
cousine_, and would not suffer her to be chidden. Fortunately, no
bones had been fractured, though the sinews of her ankle were severely
sprained; but the pain was intense, and after a sleepless night, the
boys found, to their grief and dismay, that Catharine was unable to
put her foot to the ground. This was an unlooked-for aggravation of
their misfortunes; to pursue their wanderings was for the present
impossible; rest was their only remedy, excepting the application of
such cooling medicaments as circumstances would supply them with. Cold
water constantly applied to the swollen joint, was the first thing
that was suggested; but, simple as was the lotion, it was not easy to
obtain it in sufficient quantities. They were full a quarter of a mile
from the lake shore, and the cold springs near it were yet further
off; and then the only vessel they had was the tin pot, which hardly
contained a pint; at the same time the thirst of the fevered sufferer
was intolerable, and had also to be provided for. Poor Catharine, what
unexpected misery she now endured!
The valley and its neighbouring hills abounded in strawberries; they
were now ripening in abundance; the ground was scarlet in places with
this delicious fruit: they proved a blessed relief to the poor
sufferer's burning thirst. Hector and Louis were unwearied in
supplying her with them.
Louis, ever fertile in expedients, crushed the cooling fruit and
applied them to the sprained foot; rendering the application still
more grateful by spreading them upon the large smooth leaves of the
sapling oak: these he bound on with strips of the leathery bark of the
moose-wood, [Footnote: "_Dirca palustris_," moose-wood American
mezereon, leather-wood. From the Greek, _dirka_, a fountain or wet
place, its usual place of growth.] which he had found growing in great
abundance near the entrance of the ravine. Hector, in the meantime,
was not idle. After having collected a good supply of ripe
strawberries, he climbed the hills in search of birds' eggs and small
game. About noon he returned with the good news of having discovered a
spring of fine water in an adjoining ravine, beneath a clump of
bass-wood and black cherry trees; he had also been so fortunate as to
kill a woodchuck, having met with many of their burrows in the
gravelly sides of the hills. The woodchuck seems to be a link between
the rabbit and badger; its colour is that of a leveret: it climbs like
the raccoon, and burrows like the rabbit; its eyes are large, full,
and dark, the lip cleft, the soles of the feet naked, claws sharp,
ears short; it feeds on grasses, grain, fruit, and berries. The flesh
is white, oily, and, in the summer, rank, but is eaten in autumn by
the Indians and woodsmen; the skin is not much valued. They are easily
killed by dogs, though, being expert climbers, they often baffle their
enemies, clinging to the bark beyond their reach. A stone or stick
well aimed soon kills them; but they sometimes bite sharply.
The woodchuck proved a providential supply; and Hector cheered his
companions with the assurance that they could not starve, as there
were plenty of these creatures to be found. They had seen one or two
about Cold Springs, but they are less common in the deep forest lands
than on the drier, more open plains.
"It is a great pity we have no larger vessel to bring our water from
the spring," said Hector, looking at the tin pot; "one is so apt to
stumble among stones and tangled underwood. If we had only one of our
old bark dishes we could get a good supply at once."
"There is a fallen birch not far from this," said Louis. "I have here
my trusty knife; what is there to hinder us from constructing a vessel
capable of holding water, a gallon if you like?"
"How can you sew it together, cousin?" asked Catharine; "you have
neither deer sinews nor war-tap." The Indian name for the flexible
roots of the _tamarack_, or swamp larch, which they make use of in
manufacturing their birch baskets and canoes.
"I have a substitute at hand, ma belle;" and Louis pointed to the
strips of leather-wood he had collected for binding the dressings on
her foot.
When an idea once struck Louis, he never rested till he worked it out
in some way. In a few minutes he was busily employed, stripping sheets
of the ever-useful birch-bark from the birch tree that had fallen at
the foot of the "Wolf's Crag;" for so the children had named the
memorable spot where poor Catharine's accident had occurred.
The rough outside coatings of the bark, which are of silvery
whiteness, but ragged from exposure to the action of the weather in
the larger and older trees, he peeled off, and then cutting the bark
so that the sides lapped well over and the corners were secured from
cracks, he proceeded to pierce holes opposite to each other, and with
some trouble managed to stitch them tightly together, by drawing
strips of the moose or leather-wood through and through. The first
attempt, of course, was but rude and ill-shaped, but it answered the
purpose, and only leaked a little at the corners for want of a sort of
flap, which he had forgotten to allow in cutting out the bark,--this
flap in the Indian baskets and dishes turns up, and keeps all tight
and close,--a defect he remedied in his subsequent attempts. In spite
of its deficiencies, Louis's water-jar was looked upon with great
admiration, and highly commended by Catharine, who almost forgot her
sufferings while watching her cousin's proceedings.
Louis was elated by his own successful ingenuity, and was for running
off directly to the spring. "Catharine shall now have cold water to
bathe her poor ankle with, and to quench her thirst," he said,
joyfully springing to his feet, ready for a start up the steep bank;
but Hector quietly restrained his lively cousin, by suggesting the
possibility of his not finding the "fountain in the wilderness," as
Louis termed the spring, or losing himself altogether.
"Let us both go together then," cried Louis. Catharine cast on her
cousin an imploring glance.
"Do not leave me, dear Louis--Hector, do not let me be left alone."
Her sorrowful appeal stayed the steps of the volatile Louis.
"Go you, Hector, as you know the way.--I will not leave you, Kate,
since I was the cause of all you have suffered; I will abide by you,
in joy or in sorrow, till I see you once more safe in your own dear
mother's arms."
Comforted by this assurance, Catharine quickly dashed away the
gathering tears from her cheeks, and chid her own foolish fears.
"But you know, dear cousin," she said, "I am so helpless; and then the
dread of that horrible wolf makes a coward of me."
After some little time had elapsed, Hector returned. The bark vessel
had done its duty to admiration; it only wanted a very little
improvement to make it complete. The water was cold and pure. Hector
had spent a little time in deepening the mouth of the spring, and
placing some stones about it. He described the ravine as being much
deeper and wider and more gloomy than the one they occupied. The sides
and bottom were clothed with magnificent oaks. It was a grand sight,
he said, to stand on the jutting spurs of this great ravine, and look
down upon the tops of the trees that lay below, tossing their rounded
heads like the waves of a big sea. There were many lovely
flowers-vetches of several kinds, blue, white, and pencilled, twining
among the grass; a beautiful white-belled flower, that was like the
"morning glory" _(Convolvulus major),_ and scarlet cups [Footnote:
_Erichroma,_ or painted cup.] in abundance, with roses in profusion.
The bottom of this ravine was strewed in places with huge blocks of
black granite, cushioned with thick green moss; it opened out into a
wide flat, similar to the one at the mouth of the valley of the "Big
Stone."
Both Hector and his sister had insensibly imbibed a love of the grand
and picturesque, by listening with untiring interest to their father's
animated and enthusiastic descriptions of his Highland home, and the
wild mountainous scenery that surrounded it. Though brought up in
solitude and uneducated, there was nothing vulgar or rude in the minds
or manners of these young people. Simple and untaught they were, but
they were guileless, earnest, and unsophisticated; and if they lacked
the knowledge that is learned from books, they possessed much that was
useful and practical, which had been taught by experience and
observation in the school of necessity.
For several days the pain and fever arising from her sprain rendered
any attempt at removing Catharine from the valley of the "Big Stone"
impracticable. The ripe fruit began to grow less abundant in their
immediate vicinity; neither woodchuck, partridge, nor squirrel had
been killed; and our poor wanderers now endured the agonizing pains of
hunger. Continual exposure to the air by night and by day contributed
not a little to increase the desire for food. It is true, there was
the yet untried lake, "bright, boundless, and free," gleaming in
silvery splendour, but in practice they knew nothing of the fisher's
craft, though, as a matter of report, they were well acquainted with
its mysteries, and had often listened with delight to the feats
performed by their respective fathers in the art of angling, spearing,
and netting.
"I have heard my father say that so bold and numerous were the fish in
the lakes and rivers he used to fish in, that they could be taken by
the hand with a crooked pin and coarse thread, or wooden spear; but
that was in the Lower Province. And oh, what glorious tales I have
heard him tell of spearing fish by torchlight!"
"The fish may be wiser or not so numerous in this lake," said Hector,
"however, if Kate can bear to be moved, we will go down to the shore
and try our luck. But what can we do? we have neither hook nor line
provided."
Louis nodded his head, and sitting down on a projecting root of a
scrub oak, produced from the depths of his capacious pocket a bit of
tin, which he carefully selected from among a miscellaneous hoard of
treasures. "Here," said he, holding it up to the view as he
spoke,--"here is the slide of an old powder-flask, which I picked up
from among some rubbish my sister had thrown out the other day."
"I fear you will make nothing of that," said Hector; "a bit of bone
would be better. If you had a file now, you might do something."
"Stay a moment, Monsieur Hec; what do you call this?" and Louis
triumphantly handed out of his pocket the very instrument in question,
a few inches of a broken, rusty file; very rusty, indeed, it was, but
still it might be made to answer in such ingenious hands as those of
our young French Canadian.
"I well remember, Katty, how you and Mathilde laughed at me for
treasuring up this old thing months ago.--Ah, Louis, Louis, you little
knew the use it was to be put to then," he added thoughtfully,
apostrophizing himself; "how little do we know what is to befall us in
our young days!"
"God knows it all," said Hector gravely; "we are under his good
guidance."
"You are right, Hec; let us trust in his mercy, and he will take good
care of us. Come, let us go to the lake," Catharine added, and she
sprang to her feet, but as quickly sank down upon the grass, and
regarded her companions with a piteous look, saying, "I cannot walk
one step; alas, alas! what is to become of me? I am only a useless
burden to you. If you leave me here I shall fall a prey to some savage
beast; and you cannot carry me with you in your search for food."
"Dry your tears, sweet cousin; you shall go with us. Do you think that
Hector or Louis would abandon you in your helpless state, to die of
hunger or thirst, or to be torn by wolves or bears? We will carry you
by turns; the distance to the lake is nothing, and you are not so very
heavy, ma belle cousine; see, I could dance with you in my arms, you
are so light a burden,"--and Louis gaily caught the suffering girl up
in his arms, and with rapid steps struck into the deer-path that wound
through the ravine towards the lake. But when they reached a pretty,
rounded knoll (where Wolf Tower now stands), Louis was fain to place
his cousin on a flat stone beneath a big oak that grew beside the
bank, and fling himself on the flowery ground at her feet, while he
drew a long breath, and gathered the fruit that grew among the long
grass to refresh himself after his fatigue. And then, while resting on
the "Elfin Knowe," as Catharine called the hill, he employed himself
with manufacturing a rude sort of a fish-hook, with the aid of his
knife, the bit of tin, and the rusty file. A bit of twine was next
produced: boys have always a bit of string in their pockets; and
Louis, as I have before hinted, was a provident hoarder of such small
matters. The string was soon attached to the hook, and Hector was not
long in cutting a sapling that answered well the purpose of a
fishing-rod; and thus equipped they proceeded to the lake shore,
Hector and Louis carrying the crippled Catharine by turns. When there,
they selected a sheltered spot beneath a grove of overhanging cedars
and birches, festooned with wild vines, which, closely woven, formed a
natural bower, quite impervious to the rays of the sun. A waterfall
dashing from the upper part of the bank fell headlong in spray and
foam, and quietly spread itself among the round shingly fragments that
formed the beach of the lake. Beneath this pleasant bower Catharine
could repose and watch her companions at their novel employment, or
bathe her feet and infirm ankle in the cool streamlet that rippled in
tiny wavelets over its stony bed.
If the amusement of fishing prove pleasant and exciting when pursued
for pastime only, it may readily be conceived that its interest must
be greatly heightened when its object is satisfying a craving degree
of hunger. Among the sunny spots on the shore, innumerable swarms of
the flying grasshopper or field crickets were sporting, and one of
these proved an attractive bait. The line was no sooner cast into the
water than the hook was seized, and many were the brilliant specimens
of sun-fish that our eager fishermen cast at Catharine's feet, all
gleaming with gold and azure scales. Nor was there any lack of perch,
or that delicate fish commonly known in these waters as the pink
roach.
Tired at last with their easy sport, the hungry boys next proceeded to
the grateful task of scaling and dressing their fish. This they did
very expeditiously, as soon as the more difficult part of kindling a
fire on the beach had been accomplished with the help of the flint,
knife, and dried rushes. The fish were then suspended, Indian fashion,
on forked, sticks stuck in the ground and inclined at a suitable angle
towards the glowing embers,--a few minutes sufficed to cook them.
"Truly," said Catharine, when the plentiful repast was set before her,
"God hath, indeed, spread a table for us here in the wilderness;" so
miraculous did this ample supply of delicious food seem in the eyes of
this simple child of nature.
They had often heard tell of the facility with which the fish could be
caught, but they had known nothing of it from their own experience, as
the streams and creeks about Cold Springs afforded them but little
opportunity for exercising their skill as anglers; so that, with the
rude implements with which they were furnished, the result of their
morning success seemed little short of divine interference in their
behalf. Happy and contented in the belief that they were not forgotten
by their heavenly Father, these poor "children in the wood" looked up
with gratitude to that beneficent Being who suffereth not even a
sparrow to fall unheeded.
Upon Catharine, in particular, these things made a deep impression;
and there, as she sat in the green shade, soothed by the lulling sound
of the flowing waters, and the soft murmuring of the many-coloured
insects that hovered among the fragrant leaves which thatched her
sylvan bower, her young heart was raised in humble and holy
aspirations to the great Creator of all things living. A peaceful calm
diffused itself over her mind, as with hands meekly folded across her
breast, the young girl prayed with the guileless fervour of a trusting
and faithful heart.
The sun was just sinking in a flood of glory behind the dark
pine-woods at the head of the lake, when Hector and Louis, who had
been carefully providing fish for the morrow (which was the Sabbath),
came loaded with their finny prey carefully strung upon a willow-wand,
and found Catharine sleeping in her bower. Louis was loath to break
her tranquil slumbers, but her careful brother reminded him of the
danger to which she was exposed, sleeping in the dew by the
water-side. "Moreover," he added, "we have some distance to go, and we
have left the precious axe and the birch-bark vessel in the valley."
These things were too valuable to be lost, so they roused the sleeper,
and slowly recommenced their toilsome way, following the same path
that they had made in the morning. Fortunately, Hector had taken the
precaution to bend down the flexile branches of the dogwood and break
the tops of the young trees that they had passed between on their
route to the lake; and by this clue they were enabled with tolerable
certainty to retrace their way, nothing doubting of arriving in time
at the wigwam of boughs by the rock in the valley.
Their progress was, however, slow, burdened with the care of the lame
girl, and laden with the fish. The purple shades of twilight soon
clouded the scene, deepened by the heavy masses of foliage, which cast
greater obscurity upon their narrow path; for they had now left the
oak-flat and entered the gorge of the valley. The utter loneliness of
the path, the grotesque shadows of the trees that stretched in long
array across the steep banks on either side, taking now this, now that
wild and fanciful shape, awakened strange feelings of dread in the
mind of these poor forlorn wanderers; like most persons bred up in
solitude, their imaginations were strongly tinctured with
superstitious fears. Here, then, in the lonely wilderness, far from
their beloved parents and social hearth, with no visible arm to
protect them from danger, none to encourage or to cheer them, they
started with terror-blanched cheeks at every fitful breeze that
rustled the leaves or waved the branches above them.
The gay and lively Louis, blithe as any wild bird in the bright
sunlight, was the most easily oppressed by this strange superstitious
fear, when the shades of evening were closing round, and he would
start with ill-disguised terror at every sound or shape that met his
ear or eye, though the next minute he was the first to laugh at his
own weakness. In Hector the feeling was of a graver, more solemn cast,
recalling to his mind all the wild and wondrous tales with which his
father was wont to entertain the children as they crouched round the
huge log-fire of an evening. It is strange the charm these marvellous
tales possess for the youthful mind: no matter how improbable or how
often told, year after year they will be listened to with the same
ardour, with an interest that appears to grow with repetition. And
still, as they slowly wandered along, Hector would repeat to his
breathless auditors those Highland legends that were as familiar to
their ears as household words; and still they listened with fear and
wonder, and deep awe, till at each pause he made the deep-drawn breath
and half-repressed shudder might be heard. And now the little party
paused irresolutely, fearing to proceed: they had omitted to notice
some landmark in their progress; the moon had not long been up, and
her light was as yet indistinct; so they sat them down on a little
grassy spot on the bank, and rested till the moon should lighten their
path.
Louis was confident they were not far from the "Big Stone," but
careful Hector had his doubts, and Catharine was weary. The children
had already conceived a sort of home feeling for the valley and the
mass of stone that had sheltered them for so many nights; and soon the
dark mass came in sight, as the broad full light of the now risen moon
fell upon its rugged sides: they were nearer to it than they had
imagined.
"Forward for the 'Big Stone' and the wigwam," cried Louis.
"Hush!" said Catharine, "look there!" raising her hand with a warning
gesture.
"Where? what?"
"The wolf! the wolf!" gasped out the terrified girl. There, indeed,
upon the summit of the block, in the attitude of a sentinel or
watcher, stood the gaunt-figured animal; and as she spoke, a long wild
cry, the sound of which seemed as if it came midway between the earth
and the tops of the tall pines on the lofty ridge above them, struck
terror into their hearts, as with speechless horror they gazed upon
the dark outline of the terrible beast. There it stood, with its head
raised, its neck stretched outward, and ears erect, as if to catch the
echo that gave back those dismal sounds; another minute and he was
gone to join his companions, and the crashing of branches and the rush
of many feet on the high bank above was followed by the prolonged cry
of a poor fugitive animal,--a doe, or fawn, perhaps,--in the very
climax of mortal agony; and then the lonely recesses of the forest
took up that fearful death-cry, the far-off shores of the lake and the
distant islands prolonged it, and the terrified children clung
together in fear and trembling.
A few minutes over, and all was still. The chase had turned across the
hills to some distant ravine; the wolves were all gone--not even the
watcher was left; and the little valley lay once more in silence, with
all its dewy roses and sweet blossoms glittering in the moonlight. But
though around them all was peace and loveliness, it was long ere
confidence was restored to the hearts of the panic-stricken and
trembling children. They beheld a savage enemy in every mass of leafy
shade, and every rustling bough struck fresh terror into their excited
minds. They might have exclaimed, with the patriarch Jacob, "How
dreadful is this place!"
With hand clasped in hand, they sat them down among the thick covert
of the bushes; for now they feared to move forward, lest the wolves
should return. Sleep was long a stranger to their watchful eyes, each
fearing to be the only one left awake, and long and painful was their
vigil. Yet nature, overtasked, at length gave way, and sleep came down
upon their eyelids--deep, unbroken sleep, which lasted till the broad
sunlight, breaking through the leafy curtains of their forest-bed, and
the sound of waving boughs and twittering birds, once more awakened
them to life and light, recalling them from happy dreams of home and
friends to an aching sense of loneliness and desolation. This day they
did not wander far from the valley, but took the precaution, as
evening drew on, to light a large fire, the blaze of which they
thought would keep away any beast of prey. They had no want of food,
as the fish they had caught the day before proved an ample supply. The
huckleberries were ripening too, and soon afforded them a
never-failing source of food; there was also an abundance of
bilberries, the sweet fruit of which proved a great treat, besides
being very nourishing.