CHAPTER VIII
The First Rain
The weary weeks of winter passed slowly away. April came in withlong bright days and abundant sunshine, but still the frost-kingheld sway, and all the earth was snowbound, the rivers were mute,and the waterfalls existed only in name. The men in the store weresaying one night that some Indians had got through from Thunder Bayby way of the Albany River with mails; but as this meant about fourhundred miles on snowshoes, Katherine regarded it only as a pieceof winter fiction, and thought no more about it. There were fiftymiles of hill and valley between Roaring Water Portage and theAlbany River at its nearest point; but this was undoubtedly thenearest trail to civilization and the railway, and when the waterswere open it was easier than any other route.
Two days later Katherine was in the cellar overhauling the stores,which were getting so shrunken that she was wondering how theycould possibly be made to hold out, when she heard Phil calling,and, going up the ladder, found a tired-looking Indian standingthere, who had a bag of mails strapped on to his back.
"Have you really come from Thunder Bay?" she asked in a surprisedtone.
"Yah," he responded promptly, and, dislodging the burden from hisback, showed her the name Maxokama on the official seals of the bag.
Her father being too unwell to leave his bed that day, Katherinereceived the mail as his deputy, and, giving the Indian a receiptfor it, proceeded to open the bag and sort the letters itcontained. There were only a few, and as they were mostly directedto those in authority in the fishing fleet, and to Astor M'Kree,Katherine was quick in coming to the conclusion that it was Mr.Selincourt who had arranged with the post office for the forwardingof this particular mail. A shiver of fear shook her as she thoughtof him. As a rule she preferred to keep him out of her remembranceas much as possible; but there were times when the fact of hiscoming was forced upon her. The broad glare of sunlight streamingin through the open door of the store was another reminder thatspring was coming with giant strides, and from spring to summer inthat land of fervid sunshine was a period so brief as to be almostbreathless.
The Indian made some purchases of food and tobacco, but as hisconversational powers did not seem to go beyond a sepulchral "Yah",which he used indifferently for yes and no, neither Katherine norPhil could get much information out of him. When he had gone,Miles came back from wood-cutting on the slopes above the portage,and was immediately started off to deliver the letters at Seal Cove.
A mail that arrives only once in five months or so is bound to betreated as a thing of moment, even when, as in this case, it waslimited to half a dozen letters and three or four newspapers. ToKatherine's great delight one of the papers was addressed to ThePostmaster, Roaring Water Portage, and she carried it in to herfather in the dreary little room which was walled off from thestore.
"What have you got: a letter?" he asked, turning towards her, hisface looking even more thin and drawn than usual.
"No, there were no letters for any of us; ours usually come by wayof Montreal and Lake Temiskaming, you know; but this is a sort ofspecial mail, which has been brought by Indians from Maxokama. Butthere is a newspaper for you, which shows it is a good thing to bepostmaster even of a place so remote as this," she said with alaugh.
"A newspaper will be a treat indeed. I think I will get up,Katherine, and sit by the stove in the store; one can't read anewspaper comfortably in bed. Besides, you will be wanting to goout delivering the mail."
"Miles has taken the Seal Cove letters, but there is one for AstorM'Kree that Phil and I will take up this afternoon; the dogs willbe glad of a run," she answered, bringing his garments andarranging them near the bed so that he could slip into them easily.
"Fancy a team of four dogs, a sledge, and two people to carry oneletter!" he exclaimed.
"Not quite that," she responded with a laugh, glad to see that hismood was so cheerful. "There is a newspaper to go too, and weshall take up a small barrel of flour, with some bacon and sugar."
"That sounds better at any rate, and I shall be delighted for youto have a run in the sunshine," 'Duke Radford said, with thatthoughtful consideration for others which made his children lovehim with such an ardent affection.
Katherine had not gone many yards from the door that afternoonbefore she noticed a difference in the temperature; it was a soft,clinging warmth, which made her glad to unfasten her scarlet cloud,while the glare of the sunshine was becoming paler, as if a mistwere rising.
"Phil, the rain is coming; I can smell it, and the dogs can smellit too. We are in for weather of sorts, I fancy, but Astor M'Kreemust get his letter first, even if we have to race for it!" shecried.
"Let's race, then; the dogs are willing, and so am I," repliedPhil, who was seated in the sledge among the packages, whileKatherine travelled ahead on snowshoes,
And race they did; but already the snow was getting wet and soft onthe surface, so that the going was heavy, the sledge cut in deeply,and it was a very tired team of dogs which dropped to the ground infront of the boatbuilder's house. Phil set to work hauling out thestores, but Katherine as usual went in to chat with Mrs. M'Kree,who looked upon her visits with the utmost pleasure.
"I expect it is the last time we shall come up by sledge thisseason," said Katherine. "But in case the ice is troublesome, andwe can't get a canoe through for a week or two, we have brought youdouble stores."
"That is a good thing, for we are all blessed with healthyappetites up here, and it isn't pleasant to even think of going onshort commons," replied Mrs. M'Kree. "But do wait until I've readthis letter, for there may be news in it, and there is so little ofthat sort of thing here that we ought to share any tidings fromoutside that may happen to get through."
"Perhaps Mr. M'Kree would rather read his letter first himself,"suggested Katherine, who would have preferred not to hear aboutanything that letter might contain. She guessed it was from Mr.Selincourt, and for that reason shunned anything to do with it.
"Astor has gone across to Fort Garry to-day; he started at dawn,and a pretty stiff journey he'll have before he gets back: but Iwarned him not to go, for I smelled the rain coming when I put myhead outside this morning; my nose is worth two of his, for hecan't smell weather, and never could," Mrs. M'Kree answered,pulling a hairpin from her head and preparing to slit open theenvelope in her hand.
"Still, he might rather that his letter waited for him unopened,"murmured Katherine; but Mrs. M'Kree was already deep in herhusband's correspondence, and paid no heed at all.
"Oh! oh! what do you think!" she cried a moment later, giving anexcited jump, which so startled Katherine that she jumped too.
"How should I know what to think?" she said; then was angry to findthat she was trembling violently.
"Mr. Selincourt hopes to arrive in June, and he is going to bringhis daughter with him," announced Mrs. M'Kree with a shout, wavingthe letter in a jubilant fashion.
"Impossible!" remarked Katherine scornfully, the colour dying outof her face. "The first steamers can't get through Hudson Straituntil the first week in July."
"They are not coming that way, but straight from Montreal by way ofLake Temiskaming. My word! the young lady will have a chance ofroughing it, for the portages on that route are a caution, so Astorsays," Mrs. M'Kree answered, then fairly danced round the room."Just fancy how gay we shall be this summer with a young lady freshout from England among us! And her father must be just the rightsort of moneyed gentleman, for he wants Astor to get a little hutready for him by the middle of June."
"A what?" Katherine had risen to go, and was buttoning her coat,but faced round upon the little woman with blank surprise in herface, as if she failed to understand what the other was saying.
"A hut. They will want some sort of a place to live in. There isno hotel here, you see, and they are going to stay all summer.What a pity it is you haven't got room to board them at the store!"
"We don't want them," retorted Katherine quickly. "We have quiteenough to do without
having to wait on a lot of idle boarders."
"Oh! I don't fancy they will be very idle, for Mr. Selincourt saysthat he and his daughter intend being out a great deal among thefishers," said Mrs. M'Kree, who still kept dipping into theletter, and besought her visitor to stay until she had read it all.
But Katherine would not wait; she was in a hurry to start on thereturn journey, for every hour now would make the snow surface morewet and rotten to travel over. She was sick at heart, too, andsuffering from the keenest disappointment. Six months ago how shewould have rejoiced at the prospect of having Miss Selincourt atRoaring Water Portage for the weeks of the short, busy summer. Aneducated girl to talk to would make all the difference in theisolation in which they were forced to live. Katherine feltherself thrill and flutter with delight, even while she trembledwith dread at the thought of her father having to meet Mr.Selincourt face to face. She wondered if the rich man who wascoming would remember her father, and if he knew of the wrong thatthe latter had done in keeping silent, so that he might prosper bythe other's downfall.
Bitter tears smarted in her eyes as she toiled through the meltingsnow; then a dash of wet struck her in the face, and she realizedthat the rain had begun, and the long winter was coming to an endat last. The last mile was very hard to traverse, and when atlength they went down the hill between the high rocks of theportage trail, Katherine heard a faint rippling sound which warnedher that the waters were beginning to flow. The store was crowdedwith men, as was often the case in the late afternoon, andKatherine's hope of being able to tell her father the news quietlywas doomed to disappointment. Her first glance at him told herthat he knew all there was to be known, and the look of sufferingon his face hurt her all the more because she knew there was nobalm for his pain. Miles was doing what was necessary in the storeunder his father's direction, and, because there seemed no need forher assistance just then, Katherine went on indoors to get a littlerest before it was time for evening school.
"Oh, Katherine, have you heard the news?" cried Mrs. Burton, whowas knitting stockings and reciting "Old Mother Hubbard" betweenwhiles to the twins.
"Yes; at least, I have heard about Mr. Selincourt coming, if thatis what you mean," Katherine answered, as she unfastened her outergarments.
"That is not the best part of the news by any means," returned Mrs.Burton, giving Lotta a little shake to silence the demand for moreof "Mother Hubbard". "What delights me so much is to think thatMiss Selincourt is coming too. Just imagine what it will be tohave cultured society here at Roaring Water Portage!"
"She will despise us, most likely, and consider us about on a levelwith Peter M'Crawney's wife, or that poor little Mrs. Jenkin," saidKatherine.
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Burton's tone was energetic; her manner one ofmild surprise. "No one would despise you. They might look downupon me a little, but you are quite a different matter."
"Perhaps I am," replied Katherine. "But somehow I have got thefeeling in my bones that Miss Selincourt and I shall not fall inlove with each other."
"I expect that what you have really got in your bones is a touch ofrheumatism from wading through wet snow," Mrs. Burton saidanxiously. "Dear, you must take care of yourself, for what wouldbecome of us all if you were to fall ill?"
Katherine laughed, only there was not much mirth in the sound."There is nothing the matter with me, nor likely to be, for I amtough as shoe leather; only sometimes my temper gets knobby,because all the children I can find to teach are grown-up babies ofthirty and forty, who prefer flirting to arithmetic, and have to becontinually snubbed in order to keep them in their places. Thestupid creatures make me so angry!"
"Poor Katherine! It is hard on you, for you are certainly much toogood-looking to teach a night school; but, on the other hand, whata good thing it has been for the men to have the school to occupytheir evenings," said Mrs. Burton. "Mrs. Jenkin was saying onlyyesterday that there has not been half so much drinking andgambling at Seal Cove this winter as there was last year, becausethe men would rather come here and listen to your lectures onhistory and geography."
"They are willing enough to listen, and will sit looking as stupidas a school of white whales, caught in a stake trap," repliedKatherine. "But see what dunces some of them are when I try toknock a little arithmetic into their thick heads."
"Yes, I will admit they are rather dense; and you are very muchmore patient with them than I should be, I'm afraid," Mrs. Burtonsaid with a sigh. The night school had privately been a very greattrial to her, for since 'Duke Radford's indifferent health hadcaused him to lie in bed so much, it had been impossible to use theroom off the store as schoolroom, and so for two hours everyevening the family living-room had been invaded by a swarm of moreor less unwashed men, whose habits were not always of the mostrefined description.
"The need for patience will soon be over now," Katherine said,understanding the cause of the sigh, although Mrs. Burton haduttered no spoken complaint. "Miles says the men were beginning tobreak the boats out yesterday, and it is raining now, which willhelp matters on a great deal, unless, indeed, it rains too long,and then we may have floods."
"Oh dear, I hope not!" replied Mrs. Burton with a shiver, forspring floods were no joke in that part of the world. "By the way,has Miles told you that he saw the Englishman to-day?"
"What Englishman?" demanded Katherine, with dismay in her tone, forher thoughts immediately flew to Mr. Selincourt; only, of course,it was not possible that he could arrive before June.
"Didn't you hear that an Englishman came through from Maxokama withthe Indians who brought up the mail?" said Mrs. Burton in surprise.
"Not a word. But certainly he must be a plucky sort of person tohave ventured a journey of four hundred miles on snowshoes. Do youknow who he is?" Katherine asked with quickened interest.
"Someone to do with the fishing, I think; a sort of master of thefleet very likely," replied Mrs. Burton, who had dropped herknitting and gathered both the little girls on to her lap, as thesurest means of keeping them quiet while she talked to her sister.
"How will Oily Dave like that, I wonder?" Katherine said in amusing tone, and then her thoughts went wandering off to the pailsof stolen lard. She had kept up an unremitting watchfulness eversince the time when the theft occurred, and had missed nothing moreof importance; but her mistrust of Oily Dave was as great as ever.
"I don't suppose he will like it at all," Mrs. Burton answered."But it is quite time that a more responsible man was put incharge."