CHAPTER I
THE FUR-TRADER'S SON
The son of the merchant Lecour was a handsome youth, and there was greatjoy in the family at his coming home to St. Elphege. For he was going toFrance on the morrow; it was with that object that his father had sentto town for him--the little walled town of Montreal.
It was evening, early in May, of the year 1786. According to an oldcustom of the French-Canadians, the merchant, surrounded by his family,was bestowing upon his son the paternal blessing. It was a touchingsight--the patriarchal ceremony of benediction.
The father was a fine type of the peasant. His features might, in thestrong chiaroscuro of the candle-light, have stood as model for somechurch fresco of a St. Peter. His dress was of grey country homespun,cut in a long coat, and girded by a many-coloured arrow-pattern sash,and on his feet he wore a pair of well-worn beef-skin mocassins.
The son was some twenty years of age, and his mien and dress told of thebetter social advantages of the town. Indeed, his costume, thoughsomewhat worn, had marks of good fashion.
His younger sister (for he had two, of whom one was absent), and hismother, a lively, black-eyed woman, who dressed and bore herselfambitiously for her station, gazed on him in fond pride as he knelt.
"My son," the merchant said reverently, his hands outstretched over hisboy, "the Almighty keep and guard thee; may the blessing of thy fatherand thy mother follow thee wherever thou goest."
"Amen," the son responded.
He rose and stood before his parent with bent head.
The old man exhorted him gravely on the dangers before him--on theruffians and lures of Paris, and the excitements of youth. He warned himto attend to his religious duties, and to do credit to his family andtheir condition in life by respectful and irreproachable conduct. "Neverforget," he concluded, in words which the young man remembered in afteryears, "that the Eternal Justice follows us everywhere, and calls us toexact account, either on earth or in the after life, for all our acts."
But here Lecour's solemn tone ceased, and he continued--"Now, Germain, Imust explain to you more closely the business on which I have sent foryou so suddenly. The North-West Company, who, as you know, command thefur-trade of Canada, have word that a new fashion just introduced intoParis has doubled the demand for beaver and tripled the price. They arehurrying over all their skins by their ship which sails in ten days toLondon from Quebec. I have space on a vessel which goes direct to Dieppethe day after to-morrow, and can therefore forestall them by about twoweeks. I have gathered my winter stock into the boats you will see atour landing; and your mother, who has always been so eager to send youto France, has persuaded me to have you as my supercargo. Go, my boy; itis a great opportunity to see the world."
"Yes, my Germain, at last," wife Lecour exclaimed joyfully, throwing herarms around his neck, "at last you will set eyes on Versailles, and mydreams about you will come true!"
The youth himself was in a daze of smiles and tears.
The chamber in which they were was the living-room of the house. Its lowceiling of heavy beams, its spotlessly sanded floor, carpeted withstriped _catalogne_, its pine table, and home-made chairs of elm, werecommon sights in the country. But a tall, brass-faced London clock inone corner, a cupboard fuller than usual of blue-pattern stone-ware inanother, a large copper-plate of the "Descent from the Cross," and anebony and ivory crucifix on the walls, were indications of more thanaverage prosperity.
So thin was population throughout Canada in those days that to leave thebanks of the St. Lawrence almost anywhere was to leave human habitation.The hamlet of St. Elphege was part of the half-wild parish ofRepentigny. The cause of its existence was its position some miles upthe Assumption, as a gateway of many smaller rivers tributary to thelatter, which itself was tributary to the River of Jesus; and that inturn, less than a mile further on, to the vast St Lawrence. Itflourished on the trade of wandering tribes from up the Achigan, theLac-Ouareau, the St Esprit, and the Rouge, and on the sale of suppliesto rude settlers above and the farmers below. It flourished by theenergy of one man--this man, its founder, the Merchant Lecour. He hadstarted life with small prospects; his ideas were of the simplest, andhe was at first even a complete stranger to writing and figures. In hisyouth a common soldier in the levies of the Marquis de Montcalm on thecampaigns towards lake Champlain, he had acquired favour with hiscolonel by his steadiness, had been given charge of a canteen, and indispensing brandy to his comrades had found it possible to sell a fewsmall articles. The defence of New France against the British collapsedon the investiture of Montreal by Sir Jeffrey Amherst in 1760. TheFrench army surrendered, and part of it was shipped back to themotherland. Lecour remained, and shouldering a pedlar's pack, ploddedabout the country selling red handkerchiefs, sashes, and jack-knives tothe peasantry. Being attracted by the convenience of the portage fordealings with the Indians of the north, he selected a spot in the forestand built a little log dwelling. Success followed from the first.Beaver-skins rose into fabulous demand in Europe for cocked hats, andmade the fortunes of all who supplied them. The streams behind Lecour'spost were teeming with beaver-dams. He easily kept his monopoly of thetrade, and several times a year would send a fleet of boats down toQuebec, which returned with goods imported from Europe. Finally heextended his dealings throughout the Province into varied branches ofbusiness, and "the Merchant of St. Elphege" became a household name withthe French-Canadians. The home of the Lecours--half dwelling, halfvaulted warehouse--was one of four capacious provincial stone cottagebuildings, standing about a quadrangular yard, each bearing high up onits peak a date and brief inscription, one of which read "A Dieu laGloire!"--"To God the Glory."
Just at the end of the family scene previously described, a noise washeard without, the latch was lifted, and a troop of Lecour's neighboursand dependants pushed in, an old fiddler at their head, who, clatteringforward in _sabots_, removed his blue _tuque_ from his head, andpolitely bowed to Lecour.
"Father," he said, "these young people ask your permission to give adance in honour of Monsieur Germain."
The Lecours appreciated the honour; the room was cleared, music struckup, and festivity was soon in progress. What a display of neat anklesand deft feet in mocassins! What a clattering of _sabots_ and shufflingof "beefs"! The perspiration rolled off the brow of the musician, andyoung Lecour was whirling round like a madcap with the daughter of theferryman of Repentigny, when the latch was again lifted, and the doorsilently opened.
Every woman set up a shriek. The threshold was crowded with Indians inwarpaint!
All the settlers knew that paint and its dangers.
The dancers drew back to one side of the room, and some opened the doorof the warehouse adjoining and took refuge in its vaulted shadows. ButLecour himself, the former soldier, was no man to tremble. "Come in," hesaid, without betraying a trace of any feeling.
Seven chiefs stalked grimly across the floor in single file, carryingtheir tomahawks and knives in their hands, their great silver treatymedals hanging from their necks, and their brightly dyed eagle feathersquivering above their heads, and six sat down opposite Lecour on thefloor. Their leader, Atotarho, Grand Chief of Oka, stood erect andsilent, an expression of warlike fierceness on his face.
"Atotarho!" exclaimed the merchant.
"It is I," the Grand Chief answered. "Where is the young man?"
"Here," replied Germain, stepping forward with a sangfroid which pleasedhis father. He faced the powerful Indian.
Atotarho shook his tomahawk towards the ceiling, uttered a piercingwar-whoop, and commenced to execute the war-dance, chanting this song inhis native Six-Nation tongue--
"Our forefathers made the rule and said: 'Here they are to kindle a fire; here at the edge of the woods.'"
One of the chiefs drummed on a small tom-tom. The chant continued--
"Show me the man!
"Hail, my grandsires; now hearken while your grand-children cry unto you, you who established the Great
League. Come back, ye warriors, and help us.
"Come back, ye warriors, and sit about our Council. Lend us your magic tomahawks. Lend us your arrows of flint. Lend us your knives of jade. I am the Great Chief, but ye are greater chiefs than I.
"Of old time the nations wandered and warred.
"Ye were wonderful who established the Great Peace.
"Assuredly six generations before the pale-faces appeared, ye smoked the redstone pipe together, giving white wampum to show that war would cease.
"Thenceforth ye bound the nations with a Silver Chain; ye built the Long House; ye established the Great League.
"First Hiawatha of the Onondaga nation proposed it; then Dekanawidah of the Mohawks joined him; then Atotarho, my mighty ancestor.
"First the Mohawks; then their younger brothers, the Oneidas, joined them; then the Cayugas; then the Onondagas, then the Senecas; and then the Tuscaroras were added. Victorious were the SIX NATIONS!"
With a piercing cry of triumph the chiefs sprang up and brandished theirtomahawks.
"Then we took the sons of the Wyandots, the Eries, the Algonquins. Wherever we found the son of a brave man we adopted him. Wherever we found a brave man we made him a chief.
"Here is the son of a brave man, our friend. Let us adopt him. Be ye his grandsires, oh ye chiefs of old!
"He is a brave man; let us make him a chief. Our forefathers said: 'Thither shall he be led by the hand, and shall be placed on the principal seat.'
"Smoke the peace-pipe with us, chiefs of old, Hiawatha, Dekanawidah, Atotarho, us who bear your names, to-day, being descended of your blood through the line of the mother."
"Brighten the Silver Chain, extend the Long House, smoke the magic pipe, sharpen his tomahawk, for he is a son of your League, and shall sit with you in the Council for ever, bearing the name of Arahseh, 'Our Cousin,' and the totem of the Wolf.
"Smoke the peace-pipe, Arahseh, 'Our Cousin.'"
The tom-tom beat furiously and the six chiefs leaping up and circlinground Germain, struck the air with their tomahawks and cried together--
"Continue to listen Ye who are braves; Ye who established the Great League, Continue to listen."
They gave the peace-pipe to Germain, and again seating themselves insemicircle, gravely passed it from lip to lip.
Gradually the settlers during these rites began to learn by those whounderstood Iroquois, the friendly nature of the fierce-looking actionsof the savages and gazed with delight while the merchant's son was madea chief.
Thus out of a semi-savage corner of the world Germain Lecour waslaunched on his voyage to Europe, which commenced at the head of theboats of his father next morning when the dawn first carmined the skythrough the forests.