CHAPTER IX. THE LAST CAMP-FIRE.
We got away from Détour du Lac in the early morning, and reached theoutlet, the head of the Madawaska River, after a brisk paddle of someeight miles. The run down the Madawaska was swift and easy,—a rapidcurrent and a clear channel. What more could canoemen wish? Late in theafternoon we pitched tent on a woody hill half a mile above Edmundston.To signalize our return to civilization we visited the hotel andpost-office, and then returned to camp for tea. The fire blazed rightmerrily that night, and to ward off melancholy thoughts we told storiesas usual.
“Boys,” said Stranion, “I’ve saved for this last night in camp the onethat I count choicest of all my yarns. The scene of it lies on thosevery waters which we have lately passed through!”
“Name?” demanded I, sharpening my pencil with a business air.
“Just—
‘INDIAN DEVILS,’
replied Stranion.
“It was a scorching noon in mid-July of 1885. Dear old H—— and I were incamp on the upper waters of the Squatook, not far below the mouth ofBeardsley Brook. How H—— loved to get away from his professorial dignityand freely unbend in the woods! He used to swear he would never againput on a starched collar. But his big American university keeps him primenough now!
“We had called a halt for dinner and siesta in a little sandy cove,where the river eddied listlessly. It was a hollow between high banks,down which drew a soft breeze as through a funnel, and the deep grassfringing the tiny beach was densely shadowed by a tangle of vines andbranches.
“Our birch canoe was behind us, her resined sides well shaded from theheat. At the water’s edge flickered the remnants of our fire, paled andbrowbeaten by the steady downpour of sunshine. The stream itself, for awonder grown drowsy, idled over its pebbly bed with a sleep-inducingmurmur.
“While we were thus half idling and dreaming, I was startled wide awakeby the grating of a paddle on a line of gravelly shoals above the point.A moment more and a birch canoe swept into view, and drew up at ourlanding-place. The crew, two youngish-looking Indians, having liftedtheir craft out of the water, stalked silently up the beach and pausedbefore us, leaning on their paddles. With a non-committal grunt theyaccepted some proffered tobacco, glanced over our baggage, eyed greedilythe bright nickel-plating on our trout-rods, and murmured something inMelicete which I failed to comprehend.
“The professor, somewhat annoyed at this intrusion, blinked sleepily atthem for a while, and then proceeded to sort and stow away his latestacquired specimens, amongst which were some splendid bits of pyrites,glittering richly in the sun.
“One of our visitors was not unknown to me. He was a certain Joe Tobin,of ill repute, hailing from Francis Village. The other was an olderlooking man, with high cheek-bones and little, pig-like, half-shut eyes.
“The appearance of neither had any attraction for me, but the Indianwith the pig-like eyes I found particularly distasteful.
“These eyes grew intent at once, as they caught the yellow gleam of thepyrites; but their owner preserved his air of stoical indifference.
“Approaching the professor’s side, he sought a closer examination; butthe professor was not propitiatory. He dumped the ore into hisspecimen-box before the Indian could touch it; and shifting the boxdeeper into the shade, he took his seat upon it. The box was plainlyheavy, and a gleam of interest crept into the cunning eyes of Joe.
“‘Gold, mebbe?’ he suggested persuasively.
“To which the professor, facetiously grumpy, answered, ‘Yes, all gold!Fools’ gold!’
“At this a most greedy glance passed furtively between the Indians, andit flashed upon me that by the barbaric ear ‘Fools’ gold’ might bemisinterpreted to ‘Full of gold.’
“I gave the rash professor a warning look, which Joe intercepted. I thenproceeded to explain what was meant by ‘Fools’ gold,’ and declared thatthe things in the professor’s box were valueless bits of rock, which wehad picked up chiefly out of curiosity. This statement, however, as Icould see by our visitors’ faces, was at once regarded as a cunning andcautious lie to conceal the vast value of our treasure.
“‘Whereabouts you get um?’ queried Joe again.
“‘Oh,’ answered the professor, ‘there’s lots of it floating round MudLake and Beardsley Brook.’ He took a lovely cluster of crystals out ofhis pocket, and laughed to see how the Indians’ eyes stuck out withdeluded avarice. I felt angry at his nonsense, for one of our visitorswas an out-and-out ruffian.
“In a few moments, after a series of low grunts, which baffled my earcompletely, though I was acquainted with the Melicete tongue, theIndians turned to go, saying in explanation of their sudden departure,‘Sugar Loaf ’fore sundown, mebbe.’ I took the precaution to display, atthis juncture, a double-barrelled breech-loader, into which I slipped acouple of buck-shot cartridges; and as I nodded them a bland farewell, Isaid in Melicete, ‘It’ll be late when you get to Sugar Loaf.’ The startthey gave, on hearing me speak their own language, confirmed mysuspicions, and they paddled off in haste without more words.
“No sooner were they well out of sight than I made ready with all speedfor our own departure; nor did I neglect to upbraid the professor forhis rashness. At first he pooh-poohed my apprehension, declaring that itwas ‘fun to fool the greedy Hottentots;’ but when I explained my groundsfor alarm, he condescended to treat them with some respect. He warmedup, indeed, and made haste, so that we were once more darting along withthe racing current before the Indians had been gone above ten minutes;but I could see that he had adopted my suspicions mainly for the sake ofan added excitement. The professor’s class-room afforded too littlescope for such an adventurous spirit, and he was beginning to crave therelish of a spice of peril. With his dainty rifle just to his hand, hewas soon plying a fervent and effective paddle, while his sharp eyeskept a lookout which I knew very little would evade.
“Our design was to press so closely upon the rascals’ heels that anyplot they might agree upon should not find time to mature. We knew theywould never calculate upon our following them so promptly; still lesswould they dream of the speed that we were making. In a fair race weflattered ourselves that we could beat most Indians, and we rathercounted on overtaking and passing this couple before they couldaccomplish aught against us. There was one point in the stream, however,which I remembered with misgivings.
“Three or four miles ahead of us were the rapids which, you remember, wehad such fun with a few days ago. I suggested to H—— that there, ifanywhere, those Indians would lie in wait for us, knowing that our handswould be well occupied in navigating the canoe.
“Those five miles soon slipped by. As we shot down the roaring channelwe saw, in the reach beyond the last turmoil, a canoe thrust in amongthe alders.
“‘Ah-h-h!’ exclaimed the professor, in a tone of deepening conviction;and he shifted his grip upon his rifle. An instant more and we were inthe surges.
“Just then I saw the professor start, half raising his rifle to theshoulder; but the canoe was taking all my attention, and I dared notfollow his glance to shoreward.
“Our delicate craft seemed to wallow down the roaring trough. The streamwas much heavier than we found it the other day, I can tell you. At thefoot of the first _chute_ a great thin-crested ripple slapped over us.
“I had understood the professor’s gesture; and, as we plunged down thenext leap, I chuckled to myself, ‘Sold this time!’
“Like a bird, the true little craft took the plunge. One more blindingdash of spray, a shivering pause, and, darting forward arrow-like, shedipped to the last and steepest descent.
“At this instant, from the bank overhead, came a spurt of blue smoke anda report, followed by a twinge in my left shoulder. Another report,scarcely audible amid the falls’ thunder, and cleaving the last greatripple, we swept into gentler currents. Crack! crack! crack! went theprofessor’s little rifle, as he fired over his
shoulder at the placewhere the smoke-puffs clung.
“I said, ‘Push on, before they can load again.’
“Dropping my paddle, as we passed their empty canoe, I put two chargesof buck-shot through her birchen sides. Then, satisfied that the mendingof this breach would keep our enemy wholesomely occupied for some time,we pushed forward swiftly in grim triumph.
“A few miles farther on I stopped, and informed the professor that I waswounded. At this he turned about in such sudden concern that he barelymissed upsetting the canoe; but he presently remarked, ‘By the healthyvigor you’ve displayed in running away the last half hour, I don’timagine the wound can be serious.’
“On examination we found that a bullet had nicked the top of myshoulder, though not so deeply but that cold water and some strips ofsticking-plaster went far toward giving relief from pain. But themuscular action of paddling caused the scratch to become inflamed; andso, when at about four in the afternoon we swept out on the smoothwaters of the lake, I gave up the stern paddle to the professor, andplayed invalid a while in the bow.
“A light breeze, to which we hoisted our sail, took us pleasantly downthe lake, and about half-past six we landed near the outlet. We tentedjust where Camp de Squatook stood a few days ago. Under the lullinginfluence of a supper of fresh fried trout, the savor of which mixeddeliciously with the wholesome scent of the pines, we concluded thatperhaps by this time our enemies would have given up the pursuit,disgusted by their past failure and the damage done to their canoe.
“Nevertheless, we resolved to take thorough precautions, lest ouradversaries should cross the head of the lake and come upon us by night.
“We built a huge fire so that it shone upon the landing-place, andlighted up every way of approach by water. The tent stood out in thefull glare. To the rear and a little to one side, beyond the limits ofthe grove, in the densest part of the thicket, we fixed ourselves a snugand secret couch, whence we could command a view of the wholesurroundings.
“Close by we arranged a pile of bark, with kindlings and dry balsamicpine-chips, such as we could urge into a sudden blaze in case of anyemergency. Immediately behind us was the water, and from that side wefelt that we were safe so long as that glare of firelight could bemaintained.
“We fixed up the camp to look natural and secure, hung our wet clothesto dry on the _cheep lahquah-gan_,[1] closed the tent-door for the nightto keep out the mosquitoes, and retired, not dissatisfied, to ourcovert.
“It was a dark and almost starless night, with a soft, rainy windsoughing in the pine-tops, and making the ‘Big Squatook’ wash restlesslyall down her pebbled beaches. As we drew our weapons close to us, andstretched ourselves luxuriously in our blankets, we could not forbear alow laugh at a certain relish the situation held for us. The professor,however, suddenly became serious; and he declared, ‘But this lark’s inthe soberest kind of earnest, anyway; and we mustn’t be lettingourselves tumble to sleep!’
“My shoulder gave an admonitory twinge, and I cordially acquiesced.
“Just then a far-off howl of hideous laughter, ending in a sob ofdistress, came down the night wind, making our flesh creepuncomfortably.
“‘Is that what the Indians call Gluskâp’s Hunting-dogs?’ whispered theprofessor.
“‘Not by any means!’ I answered under my breath.
“‘Well, it ought to be,’ returned the professor.
“I replied that the voice, in my opinion, came from the dangerousNorthern panther, or ‘Indian devil.’
“These animals, I went on to explain for H——’s comfort, were growingyearly more numerous in the Squatook regions, owing to the fact that thecaribou, their favorite prey, were being driven hither from the southcounties and from Nova Scotia.
“Just then the cry was repeated, this time a little nearer; and theprofessor began to inquire whether it was Indian or Indian devil aboutwhich we should have most call to concern ourselves. His hope, buthalf-expressed, was plainly for a ‘whack at both.’
“I assured him that so long as the Indian devil kept up his serenadingwe had little need to be troubled; but should the scent of our friedtrout be blown to his nostrils, and divert his mind from thoughts oflove to war, then would it behoove us to be circumspect.
“As we talked on thus in an undertone which was half-drowned by thewashing of the waves, the panther’s cry was heard much nearer thanbefore; and it was not again repeated. This put us sharply on our guard.
“Hour after hour passed, till we began to find it hard to keep awake.Only the weirdness of the place, the strange noises which stole towardsus from the depths of the forest, dying out within a radius of a coupleof hundred yards from the firelight, together with our anxietyconcerning the movements of the panther, kept us from falling asleep.
“The professor told some stories of the skill of Western Indians increeping upon guarded posts, and I retorted with examples of the cunningand ferocity of these Northern Indian devils.
“Once we were started into renewed vigilance by what seemed like ascratching or clawing on the bark of some tree near at hand; but weheard no more of it. When, as near as we could guess, it must have beenwell past midnight, we began to be concerned at the lowness of our fire.It had fallen to a mere red glow, lighting up a circle of not more thantwenty yards around the camp. As for our covert, it was now sunk in theouter darkness.
“We considered the needs and risks of replenishing the fire, andconcluded that the risks were so far greater than the needs, that ourbetter plan was to stay where we were till morning.
“If our enemies were upon our tracks, then for either of us to approachthe light would be to betray our stratagem, besides furnishing a fairand convenient target; while we felt tolerably sure that the panther wasin some not distant tree, waiting to drop, according to his pleasantcustom, upon any one that should come within his reach. Theseconsiderations made us once more satisfactorily wakeful, and withstraining our sight through the blackness our nerves got painfully onthe stretch.
“A bird stirred in the twigs above us, and the professor whispered,‘What’s that?’
“Then there was a trailing rustle of the dry leaves near our feet; and,with a sharp click and a jump of the pulse, I brought my gun to fullcock.
“But two little points of green light close together, which met my eyesfor an instant, told me that it was only a wood-mouse which we heardscurrying away.
“The professor whispered, ‘What was it disturbed the mouse? He seemed ina hurry about something when he ran against us that way.’
“This was a point, and we weighed it. We were just about to hazard someguess, allowing for an owl, or polecat, or other night prowler, when theprofessor gripped my arm sharply, and whispered, ‘Look!’
“Just on the outermost verge of the dim circle, I could detect a humanfigure, creeping like a snake toward the rear corner of the tent.
“‘Shall we shoot—wound him?’ whispered the professor breathlessly.
“‘No; wait!’ I answered. ‘Look out for the other fellow. We’ll capturethem both and take away their guns.’
“The words were scarce out of my mouth when there was a sort of madrush, and a struggle, apparently close beside us, followed by anagonized shriek. We sprang to our feet in horror, and at once set ourlittle beacon ablaze.
“There, not twenty yards off, beneath a tree, lay a twitching humanform. Upon his breast crouched the Indian devil, with its jaws buried inhis throat.
“With a cry we sprang to the rescue, and the beast, half-cowed by thesudden blaze, seemed at first disposed to slink off; but, changing itspurpose, it set its claws deeper into its prey, and faced us with anangry snarl.
“The grove all around was now as bright as day. The professor rushedstraight upon the beast; but for myself, turning at the moment to drawmy sheath-knife, I caught sight of the other Indian, whom we hadforgotten, in the act of deliberately drawing a bead upon me.
“He stood erect, close by the tent, his pig-eyed countenance lighted upby th
e red glare. I had just time to drop flat upon the ground, ere areport rang out, and a bullet went _spat_ into a tree-trunk close aboveme. I returned the shot at once from where I lay, and my assailant fell.
“Without pausing to notice more, I turned to my companion’s assistance.He had just fired one charge into the animal, and then drawn his knife,afraid to fire a second time lest his shot should strike the Indian.
“As I reached his side the Indian devil sprang; but the ball had strucka vital spot, and snarling madly it fell together in a heap, while againand yet again went the professor’s knife between its shoulders right upto the hilt.
“As the dead brute stiffened out its sinewy length, we dragged it oneside and made haste to examine its victim. The poor wretch proved to beTobin; and we found him stark dead, his throat most hideously mangled,and his neck broken.
“Sickened at the sight we turned away. The other Indian we found stilllying where he had fallen, with his right arm badly shattered by myheavy charge of buck-shot. After brightening up the fire we proceeded todress his wounds. At this work we had small skill, and dawn broke beforewe got it accomplished.
“Then, digging with our paddles a grave in a sandy spot on the shore, weburied the Indian devil’s victim, and set out with our sullen prisonerfor the settlements. Paddling almost night and day, we reached Détour duLac, and there we delivered up our captive to the combined cares of thedoctor and the village constable.
“As we afterwards learned, the doctor’s care proved effectual; but thatof the constable was so much less so, that the villain escaped before hecould be brought to justice.”
“Truly you keep your good wine for the last, Stranion,” said Ranolf.
“Can Sam do as well, I wonder?” inquired Queerman.
“No, he can’t!” said Sam positively. “But he can give you somethinghumorsome, at least, to relieve this tragic strain. It’s about a bear,of course. I’m very glad my bears hold out so well. This story iscalled,—
‘BRUIN’S BOXING-MATCH.’
“It was a dreamy, sun-drenched September afternoon. The wide, shallowriver was rippling with a mellow noise over its golden pebbles. Backfrom the river, upon both banks, the yellow grain-fields and blue-greenpatches of turnips slanted gently to the foot of the wooded hills. Alittle distance down stream stood two horses, fetlock-deep in the water,drinking.
“Near the top of the bank, where the gravel had thinned off into yellowsand, and the sand was beginning to bristle with the scrubby bushes ofthe sand-plum, lay the trunk of an ancient oak-tree. In the effort tosplit this gnarled and seasoned timber, Jake Simmons and I wereexpending the utmost of our energies. Our axes had proved unequal to theenterprise, so we had been at last compelled to call in the aid of aheavy mall and hardwood wedges.
“With the axes we had accomplished a slight split in one end of theprostrate giant. An axe-blade held this open while we inserted ahardwood wedge, which we drove home with repeated blows of the mall tillthe crack was widened, whereupon, of course, the axe dropped out.
“The mall—a huge, long-handled mallet, so heavy as to require both handsto wield it—was made of the sawed-off end of a small oak log, and wasbound around with two hoops of wrought iron to keep it from splitting.This implement was wielded by Jake, with a skill born of years in thebackwoods.
“Suddenly, as Jake was delivering a tremendous blow on the head of thewedge, the mall flew off its handle, and pounded down the bank, makingthe sand and gravel fly in a way that bore eloquent witness to Jake’svigor. The sinewy old woodsman toppled over, and, losing his balance,sat down in a thicket of sand-plums.
“Of course I laughed, and so did Jake; but our temperate mirth quieteddown, and Jake, picking himself up out of the sand-plums, went tore-capture the errant mall. As he set it down on the timber, andproceeded to refit the handle to it, he was all at once quite overcomewith merriment. He laughed and laughed, not loudly, but with convulsiveinward spasms, till I began to feel indignant at him. When mirth is notcontagious, it is always exasperating. Presently he sat down on the logand gasped, holding his sides.
“‘Don’t be such an old fool, Jake,’ said I rudely; at which he began tolaugh again, with the intolerable relish of one who holds the monopolyof a joke.
“‘I don’t see anything so excruciatingly funny,’ I grumbled, ‘in thehead flying off of an old mall, and a long-legged old idiot sitting downhard in the sand-plum patch. That mall might just as well as not havehit me on the head, and maybe you’d have called _that_ the best joke ofthe season.’
“‘Bless your sober soul!’ answered Jake, ‘it ain’t that I’m laughingat.’
“I was not going to give him the satisfaction of asking him for hisstory, so I proceeded to fix a new wedge, and hammer it in with my axe.Jake was too full of his reminiscence to be chilled by my apparent lackof interest. Presently he drew out a short pipe, filled it with tobacco,and remarked—
“‘When I picked up that there mall-head, I was reminded of something Isaw once up in the Madawaska woods that struck me as just about thefunniest I ever heard tell of. I ’most died laughing over it at thetime, and whenever I think of it even now it breaks me all up.’
“Here he paused and eyed me.
“‘But I don’t believe _you’d_ see anything funny in it, because youdidn’t see it,’ he continued in his slow and drawling tones ‘so I reckonI won’t bother telling you.’
“Then he picked up the handle of the mall as if to resume work.
“I still kept silence, resolved not to ask for the story. Jake was fullof anecdotes picked up in the lumbering-camps; and though he was a goodworkman, he would gladly stop any time to smoke his pipe, or to tell astory.
“But he kept chuckling over his own thoughts until I couldn’t do astroke of work. I saw I had to give in, and I surrendered.
“‘Oh, go along and let’s have it!’ said I, dropping the axe, and seatingmyself on the log in an attitude of most inviting attention.
“This encouragement was what Jake was waiting for.
“‘Did you ever see a bear box?’ he inquired. I had seen someperformances of that sort; but as Jake took it for granted I hadn’t, anddidn’t wait for a reply, I refrained from saying so.
“‘Well, a bear can box _some_, now I tell you. But I’ve seen one cleanknocked out by an old mall without a handle, just like this one here;and there wasn’t any man at the end of it either.’
“Here Jake paused to indulge in a prolonged chuckle as the sceneunrolled itself anew before his mind’s eye.
“‘It happened this way: A couple of us were splitting slabs in theMadawaska woods along in the fall, when, all of a sudden, the head ofthe mall flew off, as this ’ere one did. Bill, however,—Bill Goodin wasthe name of the fellow with me,—wasn’t so lucky as you were in gettingout of the way. The mall struck a tree, glanced, and took Bill on theside of the knee. It keeled him over so he couldn’t do any more workthat day, and I had to help him back to the camp. Before we left, I tooka bit of codline out of my pocket, ran it through the eye, and strungthe mall up to a branch so it would be easier to find when I wanted it.
“‘It was maybe a week before I went for that mall,—a little more than aweek, I should say; and then, it being of a Sunday afternoon, when therewas no work to do, and Bill’s leg being so much better that he couldhobble alone, he and I thought we’d stroll over to where we’d beensplitting, and bring the mall in to camp.
“‘When we got pretty near the place, and could see through the trees themall hanging there where we had left it, Bill all of a sudden grabbed mesharp by the arm, and whispered, “Keep still!”
“‘“What is it?” said I, under my breath, looking all around.
“‘“Use your eyes if you’ve got any,” said he; and I stared through thebranches in the direction he was looking. But there was a trunk in theway. As soon as I moved my head a bit, I saw what he was watching. Therewas a fine young bear sitting back on his haunches, and looking at themall as i
f he didn’t know what to make of it. Probably that bear hadonce been hurt in a trap, and so had grown suspicious. That there mallhanging from the limb of a tree was something different from anythinghe’d ever seen before. Wondering what he was going to do, we crept alittle nearer, without makin’ any noise, and crouched down behind aspruce bush.
“‘The bear was maybe a couple of yards from the mall, and watching it asif he thought it might get down any moment and come at him. A littlegust of wind came through the trees and set the mall swinging a bit. Hedidn’t like this, and backed off a few feet. The mall swung some more,and he drew off still farther; and as soon as it was quite still again,he sidled around it at a prudent distance, and investigated it from theother side of the tree.
“‘“The blame fool is scared of it,” whispered Bill scornfully; “let’sfling a rock at him!”
“‘“No,” said I, knowing bears pretty well; “let’s wait and see what he’sgoing to do.”
“‘Well, when the mall had been pretty still for a minute or two, thebear appeared to make up his mind it didn’t amount to much after all; hecame right close up to it as bold as you like, and pawed it kind ofinquiringly. The mall swung away; and being hung short, it came backquick, and took the bear a smart rap on the nose.
Bruin’s Boxing Match.—Page 335.]
“‘Bill and I both snickered, but the bear didn’t hear us. He was madright off, and with a snort he hit the mall a pretty good cuff; back itcame like greased lightning, and took him again square on the snout witha whack that must have made him just see stars.
“‘Bill and I could hardly hold ourselves; but even if we had laughedright out I don’t believe that bear would have noticed us, he was somad. You know a bear’s snout is mighty tender. Well, he grunted andsnorted, and rooted around in the leaves a bit, and then went back atthe mall as if he was just going to knock it into the other side ofto-morrow. He stood up to it, and he did hit it so hard that it seemedto disappear for half a second. It swung right over the limb; and, whilehe was looking for it, it came down on the top of his head. Great Scott!how he roared! And then, scratching his head with one paw, he went at itagain with the other, and hit it just the same way he’d hit it before. Itell you, Bill and I pretty near burst as we saw that mall fly over thelimb again and come down on the top of his head just like the firsttime. You’d have thought it would have cracked his skull; but a bear’shead is as hard as they make them.
“‘This time the bear, after rubbing his head and his snout, and rootingsome more in the leaves, sat back and seemed to consider. In a second ortwo he went up to the mall, and tried to take hold of it with one paw;of course it slipped right away, and you’d have thought it was alive tosee the sharp way it dodged back and caught him again on the nose. Itwasn’t much of a whack this time, but that nose was tender enough then!And the bear got desperate. He grabbed for the mall with both paws; andthat way, of course, he got it. With one pull he snapped the codline,and the victory was his.
“‘After tumbling the mall about for a while, trying to chew it and clawit to pieces, and getting nothing to show for his labor, he appearedabsolutely disgusted. He sat down and glared at the bit of iron-boundoak lying so innocent in the leaves, and kept feeling at his snout in apuzzled sort of way. Then all of a sudden he gave it up as a bad job,and ambled off into the woods in a hurry as if he had just rememberedsomething.’”
This story had called forth a running commentary of appreciativechuckling. When it ended, every one was in a merry humor.
“I think,” remarked Queerman, “that I, too, have kept one of my beststories for the last. At least, it seems the best to me; and I hope youfellows won’t think it the worst, anyway.”
“We’ll tell you about that after we hear it,” said Magnus.
“Well, here goes,” continued Queerman. “My title is—
‘THE RAFT RIVALS.’
“The last log of Thériault’s ‘drive,’ not counting a few stickshopelessly ‘hung up’ on far-off Squatook Shoals, had been captured inthe amber eddies of the Lower Basin below Grand Falls, and had beensafely pinned into the great raft which was just about to start on itsleisurely voyage down the river to the shrieking saws of Fredericton.
“‘This ’ere’s as purty a site fur pinnin’ up a raft as ever I sot eyeson!” remarked Ben Smithers, thrusting his hand into his gray-bluehomespun breeches for his fig of ‘black-jack.’
“Ben was sitting on a rock near the water’s edge. No one made answer tohis remark, which was perhaps regarded as too obvious to call forcomment. Presently a large black dog, as if unwilling that any grain ofwisdom should drop from his master’s lips unheeded, thrust his head intoBen’s lap, and uttered a short bark.
“For perhaps half an hour Ben Smithers and his fellows sat on the shoreor lounged about the raft, smoking and whittling, and not one complainedof the delay. The rafts which Thériault had already despatched down theriver, each requiring two or three hands to navigate it through therapids, had thinned the numbers of the drive down to not more than tenmen, all of whom were bound for Fredericton on this very raft.
“Presently one of the hands took the pipe from his mouth, tapped itgently on a log to remove the ashes, and remarked, ‘Here they be!’
“A wagon was descending the precipitous road which led from the unseenvillage to the beach. An apprehensive looking horse between the shaftshung back warily upon the breeching, and a red-shirted lumberman clungdoggedly to one of the wheels. At the anxious horse’s head trudged aboy; and behind or beside the wagon, as pleased her fancy, there danceda five-year-old child, her long yellow hair and bright pink frock makingher look like some strange kind of butterfly.
“As their eyes fell on the little creature a grin of rough tendernessflashed out on the faces of the gang. Little Mame Thériault, who camewith this wagon-load of supplies for the gang, and who was to accompanythe raft down the river, at once became the pet of the drive. Herfather, a young widower, took her wherever it was possible, and her babyhands were dispensers of gentleness throughout the roughest gangs.
“Only Jake, the dog, refused his tribute of homage. Jake’s heart wassore within him, for he was jealous of little Mame.
“Jake was a dog among ten thousand. He possessed countlessaccomplishments, and was ever athirst to learn more. His intelligencewas such that ‘cute as Jake’ had become a current phrase of complimentwith Ben Smithers and his comrades. Wholly devoted to his master, he wasat the same time hail-fellow-well-met with all hands.
“Until Mame’s appearance on the scene, Jake had reigned without a rival.Now it was quite different. The hands, though as respectful as ever,seemed strangely forgetful of his presence at times; and with Ben, whenMame was by, his place had become secondary, and all his eager affectionseemed to go as a matter of course. Ordinarily Jake would have likedwell to make a playmate of Mame; but as it was—never!
“The whole party had got aboard, and the raft was shoved off into thecurrent. In the middle of the structure stood a rough, temporary shantyof hemlock slabs, with an elbow of rusted stovepipe projecting throughthe roof. Within this shelter the cook presided, and two or three bunksgave accommodation for part of the gang. The others, including of courseMame and her father, looked to more luxurious sleeping quarters in thesettlements along shore.
“Mame was enchanted with her surroundings,—with the shores slippingsmoothly past, with the ripples washing up between the logs, with thedashes of spray over the windward edges of the raft, with the steersmentugging on the great sweeps, and last, but by no means least, with thewide sheets of glossy gingerbread which the cook in his little house wasproducing for her particular gratification.
“She had never before experienced the delight of a raft voyage. Sheskipped from side to side on her swift but unsteady little feet, and allhands were kept anxiously alert to prevent her from falling into thewater.
“Several times she made playful advances to the big dog, throwingherself down on the
logs beside him, and scattering her yellow curlsover his black and crinkly coat; but Jake, after a reluctant wagging ofhis tail, as if to indicate that his action was based on principle, andnot on any ill-will toward herself, invariably got up and made areserved withdrawal to some remoter corner of the raft. Thériaultnoticed this, as he had done on previous occasions, and it seemed to vexhim.
“‘I _don’t_ see what Jake’s got agin the child that he won’t let herplay with him,’ he remarked half-crossly.
“‘Oh, I guess it’s ’cause he ain’t no ways used ter children, an’ he’skinder afeared o’ breakin’ her,’ Ben Smithers responded laughingly.
“Jake had caught the irritation in the boss’s tone, and had vaguelycomprehended it. Upon the boss his resentment was tending to concentrateitself. He could harbor no real ill-feeling toward the child, but uponLuke Thériault he seemed to lay the whole blame for his dethronement.
“Toward noon the breeze died down, and the heat grew fierce. Theyellow-pink gum began to soften and trickle on the sunny sides of thelogs, and great fragrant beads of balsam to ooze out from everyaxe-wound. The gang clustered, as far as possible, under theinsufficient shade of the cook-house, in loosely sprawlingattitudes,—hats off and shirt-bosoms thrown wide open. Jake got down onthe lowermost tier of logs, and lay panting in a couple of inches ofwater, surrounded by floating bits of bark and iridescent patches ofbalsam scum.
“As for Mame, her pink frock by this time was pretty well bedraggled,and frock and hands alike smeared and blackened with balsam. Her sturdylittle copper-toed boots were water-soaked. The heat had a suppressingeffect even upon her, and she spent much of the time in Ben’s lap in theshade of the cook-house; but now and then she would rouse herself torenewed excursions, and torment the raftsmen’s weather-beaten breastswith fresh alarms.
“The river at this part of its course was full of shoals andcross-currents, calling for a skilful pilot; and Thériault keptsweltering about the open raft rather than trust the steering to lessresponsible hands.
“Just as the cook, with parboiled countenance, came to the door of hisden to announce the dinner, Mame had run to Jake’s retreat, and crawleddown upon the panting animal’s back.
“This contributed not at all to Jake’s coolness, and he felt seriouslydisturbed by the intrusion. Slipping from under as gently as he could,he moved away in vexation, and Mame rolled in the shallow water.
“She picked herself up, wet and whimpering; and Thériault, who happenedto be standing close by, spoke angrily to the dog, and gave him a sharpkick.
“For Jake this was a new and startling experience. He could hardlyresist the temptation to spring upon his insulter, and pin him to theraft. Too wise for this, however, he merely stiffened himself to hisfull height with a sudden, deep growl, and rolled a significant sideglance upon his assailant.
“The boss was astonished. At the same time he was just a littlestartled, which made him still more angry, and he shouted,—
“‘Don’t you snarl at me, you brute, or I’ll kick you off o’ the raft!’
“Ben Smithers interposed. ‘Don’t kick him agin, boss!’ he exclaimed. ‘Idon’t mean no disrespec’, but Jake ain’t never had no kicks an’ cuffs,an’ I’d ruther he _didn’t_ have none, ’less he desarves ’em. He don’tknow now what you kicked him fur, an’ he’s only protestin’. He wouldn’thurt a hair o’ yer head; an’ ez fur Mame, howsomever he may keep outenher way in this ’ere heat, I’d jest like ter see anythin’ try ter techher onkind when Jake war ’round. You’d see then who was Mame’s friend!’
“During Ben’s expostulation Thériault had cooled down. He laughed alittle awkwardly, and acknowledged that he ‘hadn’t no call, under thecircumstances, to kick the dog;’ but at the same time it was with noglance of affection that he eyed Jake during dinner.
“When the meal was over he cautioned Mame so severely that the childbegan to look upon the dog as a bloodthirsty monster, and thereafterJake was persecuted no more with her attentions.
“The poor dog was none the happier on this account. Unheeded by hismaster, who through most of the afternoon kept nursing the wearied childin his lap, the poor animal lay grieving on a far-off corner of theraft.
“Late in the afternoon the raft entered the succession of rapids lyingbelow the mouth of the Munquauk. There are few shoals here, but thesteering is difficult by reason of turbulent water and cross currents.About this time, than which none could be more inopportune, little Mamewoke to new life, and resumed her perilous flittings about the raft. Themen who were not needed at the sweeps were kept busy in pursuit of her.The swift motion, the tremblings of the raft, the tumult of thecurrents,—these all enchanted and exhilarated the child. Like agolden-crowned fairy, she balanced tiptoe upon the upper logs, clappingher stained little hands, her hair blown all about her face.
“Suddenly forsaking Ben’s company, she started toward her father, wherehe stood at the stern of the raft, directing the steersmen. The fatherreached out his hands to her, laughing. She was within three or fourfeet of him, but she chose to tantalize him a little. She darted to oneside, pausing on the very edge of the raft.
“At this moment the timbers lurched under a heavy swell. Mame lost herbalance, and with a shrill cry of terror she fell into the pitchingcurrent.
“A mingled groan and prayer went up all over the raft; and Thériault andone of the hands, a big woodsman named Vandine, plunged in to therescue. Ben Smithers was not a swimmer, and he could only stand andwring his hands.
“Thériault and the other who had sprung in were both strong swimmers;but a narrow surface current had seized Mame’s small form, and whirledit far away from the raft, while the heavy bodies of the men, grasped bythe under-current, were forced in a different direction.
“Slowly battling with the Waves, Jake and His Precious Burden drew Near the Raft.”—Page 346.]
“Thériault’s face grew ghastly and drawn as he saw the distance betweenhimself and his child slowly widening. His desperate efforts could notcarry him away from the raft, and he marked that Vandine was no moresuccessful than he. A choking spasm tightened about his throat, and hegave a keen, sobbing cry of anguish as he saw the little pink-frockedform go under for the first time.
“Then a great black body shot into the air above his head, and landedwith a splash far beyond him. ‘Jake!’ he thought instantly; and athankful sigh went up from his heart. Now he began to care once moreabout keeping his own head above water.
“Jake was late in noticing the catastrophe. He had been deep in a sullenand heavy sleep. When the cries awoke him he yawned, and then mounted alog to take a survey of the situation. In a second or two he caughtsight of the pink frock tossing in the waves, and of the little handsflung up in appeal.
“His instantaneous and tremendous rush carried him far out from theraft, and then his pure Newfoundland blood made him master of thesituation.
“Little he cared for the tumult and the white-capped waves! His sinewyshoulders and broad-webbed feet drove him straight through cross-currentand eddy to where the child had sunk. When she came up he was withinfive feet of her, and with a quick plunge he caught her by the shoulder.
“And now Jake’s difficulties began. In quieter waters he would havefound no trouble, but here he was unable to choose his hold. The men sawhim let go of the child’s shoulder, snatch a mouthful of the frock, andstart for the raft.
“In this position Mame’s head passed under water, and all hands were ina panic lest she should drown before Jake could get her in. But the dogdropped his burden yet again, seized the little one by the upper part ofthe arm, and in this position was able to hold her head clear.
“But it was a trying position. To maintain it, Jake had to swim high,and to set his teeth with pitiless firmness into the child’s tender arm.The wave-crests slapped ceaselessly in his face, half-choking him, andstrangling Mame’s cries every instant.
“Thériault and Vandine were by this time so exhausted as to be qu
itepowerless, and were with difficulty pulled back upon the raft. Therestood all hands straining their gaze upon the gallant dog’s progress.Ben Smithers waited, with a pike-pole, on the very edge of the timbers,ready to hook the steel into Mame’s frock, and lift her aboard themoment Jake got within reach.
“Slowly battling with the waves, Jake and his precious burden drew nearthe raft. Already Ben Smithers was reaching out his pike-pole. Suddenlythere was a crash, and the raft stopped short, quivering, while thewaves poured over its upper edge. The timbers of the farther inshorecorner had run aground and wedged fast.
“There was a moment of bewildering suspense, while Jake and his chargewere swept swiftly past the hands stretched out to save them. Then theraft broke into two parts, and the larger outside portion swung outacross the main current and drove straight down upon the swimmer.
“With a cry the raftsmen threw themselves flat on the logs, grasped atthe dog, and succeeded in snatching the now silent child to a place ofsafety.
“Jake had just got his fore-paws over the logs when the mass drove downupon his body. His head went back under the water; and Ben, who had afirm grip in the long hair of his pet’s fore shoulders, was himself wellnigh dragged overboard. Two of his comrades, throwing themselves on thelogs beside him, plunged down their arms into the boiling foam and gothold of the helpless dog, and, almost lifeless, Jake was laid upon theraft.
“Feebly wagging his tail, the noble fellow lay with his head in BenSmithers’s lap, while the strength returned to his sinews, and thebreath found its way again to the depths of his laboring lungs. As thegang gathered about, and a babel arose of praise and sympathy, Jakeseemed to appreciate the tribute.
“When the boss had seen his child put safely and warmly to bed in thecook’s bunk, he rushed forward and threw himself down beside BenSmithers. He embraced Jake’s dripping body, burying his face in the wetblack ringlets, and speaking words of gratitude as fast as he couldutter them.
“All this, though passionately sincere, and to Ben highly satisfactoryand appropriate, was to Jake a plain annoyance. He knew nothing of thedelights of reconcilement, or of the beauty of an effective situation,and he failed to respond. He simply didn’t like Thériault. He enduredthe endearments for a little, gazing straight into Ben’s face with apiteous appeal. Then he staggered to his feet, dragged himself around tothe other side of his master, and thrust his big wet head under theshield of Ben’s ample arm.
“Thériault laughed good-naturedly and rose to his feet. ‘Poor Jake!’ hemurmured, ‘I ain’t goin’ to persecute him with no more thanks, seein’ hedon’t greatly enjoy it. But I can tell _you_, Ben Smithers, what amistake I made this morning, an’ how it sticks in my crop now to thinkon it.’
“Here the boss thrust out his hand, and Ben Smithers grasped itcordially. It was a general understanding that the boss thus apologizedto Jake for his behavior in the morning, and that thus Jake dulyaccepted the apology. Jake was expected to understand the proceeding asthe gang did, and to abide by it. No atom of surprise was felt,therefore, when, after the lapse of a day, it became plain that Jake andthe boss were on the best of terms, with Mame in her proper place ofidolized and caressed subordination.”
“That Jake was not all unworthy to sit with Jeff and Dan,” said I, asQueerman ended.
“No,” said Ranolf; “he was a prince among dogs.”
After this we told no more stories. I, who had all the records incharge, made my report, giving statistics as to fish caught, milestravelled, localities of camps, and so forth, as well as the names andtellers of all the stories. The report proving satisfactory, we sang“Home, Sweet Home” and “Auld Lang Syne,” standing around the camp-fire.Then, somewhat soberly, we turned in.
Right after breakfast on the following morning we put our canoes on thetrain, and were soon whirling homeward, proud in the consciousness ofsunburned skins, alarming appetites, and renovated digestions.
FOOTNOTES
[1]The green sapling stuck into the ground so as to slant across the fire. It is used to hang the kettle and pot upon.
Transcriber’s Notes
--Retained publication information from the printed copy (the electronic edition is in the public domain in the country of publication).
--Corrected some palpable typos.
--In the text versions only, delimited italicized text with _underscores_.
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