CHAPTER VIII.
DIANA DICKSON AND HER FOE.
The activity of the North Americans is prodigious; they have a peculiarway of handling the axe which is marvellous. Their mode of procedure isalmost incomprehensible, and goes beyond anything the imagination canconceive.
Fifty American woodmen will in a month clear the whole of a vast foresttract.
They always begin with the idea, a very logical one, though a proudone, that the modest plantation they commence may in time become animportant town, and they act accordingly. The land is divided intolots, paths traced by the axe stand for streets, large open spacesrepresent squares, while notched trees indicate where the houses,shops, workshops, and other buildings are to be.
As soon as this is all settled they go to work with feverish haste, andtrees of vast dimensions fall with a rapidity which is simply amazing.
Then they build the stables and sheds, then the blacksmith's forge, thecarpenter's shop, and the water sawmill, of which the workmen at oncetake possession.
The earth, still encumbered by the roots of trees, is dug up and sownat once. Everything goes on at the same time with the utmost regularityand industry.
In a few days the landscape is completely changed, and there, where hadexisted a virgin forest, with all its deep and impenetrable mysteries,suddenly arises, as if by means of the enchanted wand, the embryo ofa town, which ten years later will be a rich flourishing emporium ofcommerce, and of which the population, coming from all parts of theworld, will perhaps be fifty or sixty thousand.
But the squatter, the founder of the new city, will have disappeared,without leaving a trace behind. Nobody knows anything about him,not even his name. His work done, he will have taken his melancholydeparture, frightened to see the desert so populated, and thatcivilisation from which he had fled so near; he probably has fled outWest in search of a new virgin land, which he will transform like thefirst, without deriving any more advantage from it, finally to end hisdays, shot in some miserable Indian ambuscade, or killed by the clawsof a grizzly, or perhaps dies of misery and hunger in some unknowncorner of the prairie.
Joshua Dickson did not act differently from his fellows; after dividingthe valley into two, and handing over half to his brother, he fixed hisresidence near the fork of the two rivers. Samuel Dickson fixed hisresidence at the other end of the valley, near the river called theDeer River.
Everybody then set to work, and with such rapidity that before threeweeks were over the principal buildings were finished. The houses,built with trees from the trunks of which the bark had not beenremoved, piled one upon the other, and fastened together by iron clampsand long wooden nails, looked comfortable with their glass windowsfurnished inside with strong shutters, and their mud and brick chimneysfrom which the smoke already escaped in a bluish cloud.
All the servants and hired men had erected themselves, not exactlyhouses, but bark huts. They were, however, only temporary residences,soon to be replaced by more solid and eligible residences.
The ordinary means of defence so necessary in an Indian country had notbeen neglected; a solid double stockade of young trees surrounded thecamp; the centre of this rampart was occupied by a ditch ten feet wideand fifteen deep.
There were several drawbridges, which were raised every night, by meansof which only could the settlement be reached; near every one of thesewas a redoubt of stone, surmounted by stakes, behind which, in caseof attack, the garrison could place themselves. All the houses weremoreover loopholed.
Every night some twenty formidable dogs of the race formerly used bythe Spaniards to hunt down the Indians, and until lately kept to trackNegro slaves by the Americans, that is to say, bloodhounds, were letloose.
One morning, shortly after sunrise, Miss Diana, accompanied by her ownenormous and favourite dog, quitted the Point, her father's habitation,for the residence of Samuel Dickson.
Very busy each about their own affairs, the brothers were often twodays without seeing each other, the more so that their respectiveresidences were quite three miles apart.
Joshua Dickson, whose activity was immense, struck with amazement atsight of the magnificent waterpower at his door, and which he littlesuspected was the Missouri, had asked himself one day where thesewaters flowed to. He came at last to the conclusion that on its way tothe sea it must run through some state of the Union.
Then, imbued with that commercial spirit which is innate in theAmericans, he at once saw the value of the river as available for thecarriage of his produce, as well as to obtain supplies for the colony.He therefore resolved to make a journey down the river, and reach thefirst settlement, and this as soon as the heavier labours were over.
Now with the squatter to resolve was to act, and even before anythingelse was finished he had set to work to construct a canoe sufficientlylarge to carry four persons, with victuals for a long journey, andstrong enough to bear a voyage of some hundreds of miles.
The boat had been finished the night before, and Joshua Dickson, eagerto begin his journey, had sent his daughter over to Dickson Point, toconfer with his brother as to what was to be done in his absence. Butneither Samuel nor Diana knew anything of Joshua's projects.
Joshua was one of those men who, without being deceitful, was veryreticent, and never told his thoughts.
Diana, like a true heroine, traversed the faintly traced paths whichled to her uncle's house, a hunting knife in her belt, and light gunin her hand. For further safety she was accompanied by Dardar, a largeblack and white dog, something between a wolf and a Newfoundland,terribly ferocious, and of mighty strength, as tall as a good-sizeddonkey, and who would have tackled a bear in defence of his mistress,whom he obeyed with the docility of a child.
With such a guardian Diana had nothing to fear from man or beast;moreover, the country was too little known to the squatters to allow ayoung girl to go out quite unprotected in the country, however shortthe distance.
Contrary to her usual mood, the young girl was quite joyous; herfreedom, which allowed her to give free vent to her thoughts, haddriven away the tinge of sadness which generally clouded her beautifulface.
She went along careless and dreaming through the fields, playing withDardar, who, proud of the charge he was set to guard, ran wildly beforeher, dashing into the bushes and thickets with an intelligent glancethat was almost human.
The young girl soon reached the river, where a kind of ferryboat hadbeen provided by means of which to cross the river, here neither broadnor deep. In a few minutes Diana was across and within sight of heruncle's residence.
Inside the log hut, which was extensive, were seated two men, with abottle of whisky before them. These were Samuel Dickson himself andGeorge.
Two horses, still saddled and smoking, were fastened in the court. Theymust have been on a long journey.
"You are a pretty fellow to make me gallop about in this way in searchof you. I am not very handsome, but I am not ugly enough to frightenyou."
"I simply did not see you."
"No nonsense. Do you think to keep me in ignorance of your motive incoming this way?"
The young man blushed deeply.
"Do you know my brother Joshua?" asked Samuel.
"I met him once or twice in Boston, but I do not think he ever noticedme," said George Clinton.
"Shall I introduce you to him?" said Samuel. "He has his faults, but heis a very worthy man."
"I don't think it would be wise just now."
"I don't think," continued the American, "that you have waited to beintroduced to my niece."
"Sir," cried the young man, dropping his glass.
"Ah, ah!" cried the American, laughing, "That is the way you break mycrockery. These lovers, these lovers. Do you think to cheat an oldopossum like me? You love my pretty niece, which is very natural; youare a good fellow, and together will make an excellent couple."
"I regret to say it cannot be so," sighed George.
"Why so?" cried Samuel.
"I see you
are so good, I can no longer refuse to enlighten you."
"That is right. Confess, for I am your true friend."
"What I have to say," began George, "is not much. I met Miss Diana atBoston at Mrs. Marshall's, where your niece stayed for some months lastyear. I was on very good terms with your relative."
"Yes, yes; my cousin," said Samuel.
"Need I say that from the first moment I saw her I loved your niece? Myvisits to Mrs. Marshall, once only occasional, became so frequent thatthe lady began to have suspicion of my intentions. She at once calledme on one side, and while giving me every credit for loyalty and worth,she told me not to prosecute my attentions, as Diana's father wouldnever consent to our marriage. Despite all my entreaties, however,she would give me no reason, until at last, yielding to my earnestentreaties, she explained that many years before there had been such aquarrel between my father and Joshua Dickson that any alliance betweenour families must ever prove impossible."
Samuel listened with extreme anxiety.
"You see yourself that I am right," said the young man.
"You are mistaken," cried the other; "the matter is rather serious, Iallow. I really had forgotten that old affair. But don't ask me anyquestions; all I say is, have courage. Circumstances will probablyalter, and believe me that in Samuel Dickson you will have a sincerefriend."
"I should be only too glad to help."
"When I am on your side nothing is difficult. Now to breakfast. But howdid you know of my brother's coming out here?" suddenly cried Samuel.
"Miss Diana told me herself."
"Oh, oh! Then I wonder no longer. To breakfast."
"I hope, Master Samuel, you will excuse me," began the other, taking uphis hunter's cap.
"Sit down; if my niece were here you would not go."
"Can I come in?" suddenly said a soft voice at the door, a voice thatmade George start.
This sudden coincidence utterly overcame the old man's gravity, and,throwing himself back in his chair, he screamed with laughter, whileDiana stood transfixed in the doorway, and George Clinton simply turnedhis cap round in his hand without being able to articulate a word.
It was Dardar who ended the scene.
The dog had remained outside for a moment or two, and then, seeing thedoor open, had rushed right into the middle of the room; seeing GeorgeClinton he rushed at him, wagging his tail first, and then, leaping up,his paws on either shoulder, he licked his face with a joyous whine.
"By heavens!" cried the squatter, "The fellow is lucky. Everyone likeshim, even that precious Dardar, and yet he despairs. Come in, SlyBoots, and kiss your uncle."
She did not require twice asking.
"You are welcome, mademoiselle," he said, with mock politeness. "Isuppose I need not introduce you to yonder tall young fellow?"
"I have known the gentleman some time," replied the young girl, holdingout her hand, which George took and kissed.
"That's right," cried Samuel, rubbing his hands; "all goes well. Andnow once more I say, to breakfast. I am dying with hunger. We can talkwhile we eat, and you, Diana, can explain your early visit. I supposeyou have not come three miles in the dew to kiss your old uncle?"
"Why not?" she said, with a smile.
"And you expected to meet nobody," he answered. But seeing that Dianablushed, he continued, "But no more delay," and seated himself.
The beginning of the meal was rather constrained, from the peculiarposition of the young people. But the ice was soon broken; the squatterwas merry and humorous; he avoided any pointed allusions, and theconversation, at first very meagre, soon became very pleasant.
When Samuel heard the object of Diana's visit, he promised to go overin the evening, and then questioned George as to his travels.
George at once proceeded to tell his story with so much wit and humouras to amuse uncle and niece.
"Now," said Samuel, when breakfast was over, "listen to me. You are twocharming young people, whom I love, and whose happiness I desire. Butyou must let me act in my own way. I know my brother well, and can doas I like with him. Look upon me as an ally, but commit no imprudence.Instead now of going with my niece, you must stop here. If you wereseen together, we cannot say what might happen. At all times my houseis open to you. Come as often as you like, but remember, courage andprudence, Diana, kiss me again, and then farewell."
"My darling uncle," she cried, embracing him.
"Oh, yes, very dear, because I do what you like."
"Au revoir, George," she continued.
"But when shall I see you again? Time appears so long."
"Already he grumbles," cried Samuel.
"Pardon me, but I love her so much."
"And do I not love you?" she said, naively.
"I am mad," he answered, tenderly, kissing her hand a second time as hespoke.
Then Diana went out, guarded by Dardar.
"Now," said Samuel, as soon as they were alone, "you must enter intofuller explanations, and explain where you have pitched your tent. Ihope you are in no difficulty."
"Be easy on that point. I have a hut in a charming situation abouttwelve miles off. Will you come and see it?" added George Clinton.
"At once, if you like," cried Samuel.
"At once let it be, I am not alone; I have two faithful servants and aCanadian hunter, whom I engaged in Boston. I have books, arms, horses,dogs--everything that a man can wish for."
"Delighted to hear it. Let us start."
Five minutes later they were galloping through the forest.