CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
THE FIRST DAY AT HOME--A GALLOP IN THE PRAIRIE, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
Next morning, as the quartette were at breakfast, Mr Kennedy, senior,took occasion to propound to his son the plans he had laid down for themduring the next week.
"In the first place, Charley, my boy," said he, as well as a largemouthful of buffalo steak and potato would permit, "you must drive up tothe fort and report yourself. Harry and I will go with you; and afterwe have paid our respects to old Grant (another cup of tea, Kate, mydarling)--you recollect _him_, Charley, don't you?"
"Yes, perfectly."
"Well, then, after we've been to see him, we'll drive down the river,and call on our friends at the mill. Then we'll look in on theThomsons; and give a call, in passing, on old Neverin--he's always out,so he'll be pleased to hear we were there, and it won't detain us.Then--"
"But, dear father--excuse my interrupting you--Harry and I are veryanxious to spend our first day at home entirely with you and Kate.Don't you think it would be more pleasant? and then, to-morrow--"
"Now, Charley, this is too bad of you," said Mr Kennedy, with a look ofaffected indignation: "no sooner have you come back than you're at yourold tricks, opposing and thwarting your father's wishes."
"Indeed, I do not wish to do so, father," replied Charley, with a smile;"but I thought that you would like my plan better yourself, and that itwould afford us an opportunity of having a good long, satisfactory talkabout all that concerns us, past, present, and future."
"What a daring mind you have, Charley," said Harry, "to speak ofcramming a _satisfactory_ talk of the past, the present, and the futureall into _one_ day!"
"Harry will take another cup of tea, Kate," said Charley, with an archsmile, as he went on--
"Besides, father, Jacques tells me that he means to go off immediately,to visit a number of his old voyageur friends in the settlement, and Icannot part with him till we have had one more canter together over theprairies. I want to show him to Kate, for he's a great original."
"Oh, that _will_ be charming!" cried Kate. "I should like of all thingsto be introduced to the bold hunter.--Another cup of tea, Mr S--Harry,I mean?"
Harry started on being thus unexpectedly addressed. "Yes, if youplease--that is--thank you--no, my cup's full already, Kate!"
"Well, well," broke in Mr Kennedy, senior, "I see you're all leaguedagainst me, so I give in. But I shall not accompany you on your ride,as my bones are a little stiffer than they used to be," (the oldgentleman sighed heavily), "and riding far knocks me up; but I've gotbusiness to attend to in my glass house which will occupy me tilldinner-time."
"If the business you speak of," began Charley, "is not incompatible witha cigar, I shall be happy to--"
"Why, as to that, the business itself has special reference to tobacco,and, in fact, to nothing else; so come along, you young dog," and theold gentleman's cheek went into violent convulsions as he rose, put onhis cap, with the peak very much over one eye, and went out in companywith the young men.
An hour afterwards four horses stood saddled and bridled in front of thehouse. Three belonged to Mr Kennedy; the fourth had been borrowed froma neighbour as a mount for Jacques Caradoc. In a few minutes more,Harry lifted Kate into the saddle, and having arranged her dress with adeal of unnecessary care, mounted his nag. At the same moment Charleyand Jacques vaulted into their saddles, and the whole cavalcade gallopeddown the avenue that led to the prairie, followed by the admiring gazeof Mr Kennedy, senior, who stood in the doorway of his mansion, hishands in his vest pockets, his head uncovered, and his happy visagesmiling through a cloud of smoke that issued from his lips. He seemedthe very personification of jovial good-humour, and what one mightsuppose Cupid would become were he permitted to grow old, dressrecklessly, and take to smoking!
The prairies were bright that morning, and surpassingly beautiful. Thegrass looked greener than usual, the dewdrops more brilliant as theysparkled on leaf and blade and branch in the rays of an unclouded sun.The turf felt springy, and the horses, which were first-rate animals,seemed to dance over it, scarce crushing the wild-flowers beneath theirhoofs, as they galloped lightly on, imbued with the same joyous feelingthat filled the hearts of their riders. The plains at this place weremore picturesque than in other parts, their uniformity being broken upby numerous clumps of small trees and wild shrubbery, intermingled withlakes and ponds of all sizes, which filled the hollows for milesaround--temporary sheets of water these, formed by the melting snow,that told of winter now past and gone. Additional animation and lifewas given to the scene by flocks of water-fowl, whose busy cry andcackle in the water, or whirring motion in the air, gave such an idea ofjoyousness in the brute creation as could not but strike a chord ofsympathy in the heart of man, and create a feeling of gratitude to theMaker of man and beast. Although brilliant and warm, the sun, at leastduring the first part of their ride, was by no means oppressive; so thatthe equestrians stretched out at full gallop for many miles over theprairie, round the lakes and through the bushes, ere their steeds showedthe smallest symptoms of warmth.
During the ride Kate took the lead, with Jacques on her left and Harryon her right, while Charley brought up the rear, and conversed in a loudkey with all three. At length Kate began to think it was just possiblethe horses might be growing wearied with the slapping pace, and checkedher steed; but this was not an easy matter, as the horse seemed to holdquite a contrary opinion, and showed a desire not only to continue butto increase its gallop--a propensity that induced Harry to lend his aidby grasping the rein and compelling the animal to walk.
"That's a spirited horse, Kate," said Charley, as they ambled along;"have you had him long?"
"No," replied Kate; "our father purchased him just a week before yourarrival, thinking that you would likely want a charger now and then. Ihave only been on him once before.--Would he make a good buffalo-runner,Jacques?"
"Yes, miss; he would make an uncommon good runner," answered the hunter,as he regarded the animal with a critical glance--"at least if he don'tshy at a gunshot."
"I never tried his nerves in that way," said Kate, with a smile;"perhaps he would shy at _that_. He has a good deal of spirit--oh, I dodislike a lazy horse, and I do delight in a spirited one!" Kate gaveher horse a smart cut with the whip, half involuntarily, as she spoke.In a moment it reared almost perpendicularly, and then bounded forward;not, however, before Jacques's quick eye had observed the danger, andhis ever-ready hand arrested its course.
"Have a care, Miss Kate," he said, in a warning voice, while he gazed inthe face of the excited girl with a look of undisguised admiration. "Itdon't do to wallop a skittish beast like that."
"Never fear, Jacques," she replied, bending forward to pat her charger'sarching neck; "see, he is becoming quite gentle again."
"If he runs away, Kate, we won't be able to catch you again, for he'sthe best of the four, I think," said Harry, with an uneasy glance at theanimal's flashing eye and expanded nostrils.
"Ay, it's as well to keep the whip off him," said Jacques. "I know'd ayoung chap once in St. Louis who lost his sweetheart by usin' his whiptoo freely."
"Indeed," cried Kate, with a merry laugh, as they emerged from one ofthe numerous thickets and rode out upon the open plain at a foot pace;"how was that, Jacques? Pray tell us the story."
"As to that, there's little story about it," replied the hunter. "Yousee, Tim Roughead took arter his name, an' was always doin' somemischief or other, which more than once nigh cost him his life; for theyoung trappers that frequent St. Louis are not fellows to stand too muchjokin', I can tell ye. Well, Tim fell in love with a gal there who hadjilted about a dozen lads afore; an' bein' an oncommon handsome,strappin' fellow, she encouraged him a good deal. But Tim had asuspicion that Louise was rayther sweet on a young storekeeper's clerkthere; so, bein' an offhand sort o' critter, he went right up to thegal, and says to her, says he, `Come, Louise, it's o' no use humbuggin'with _me_ any longer.
If you like me, you like me; and if you don'tlike me, you don't. There's only two ways about it. Now, jist say theword at once, an' let's have an end on't. If you agree, I'll squat withyou in whativer bit o' the States you like to name; if not, I'll bid yougood-bye this blessed mornin', an' make tracks right away for the RockyMountains afore sundown. Ay or no, lass; which is't to be?'
"Poor Louise was taken all aback by this, but she knew well that Tim wasa man who never threatened in jest, an' moreover she wasn't quite sureo' the young clerk; so she agreed, an' Tim went off to settle with herfather about the weddin'. Well, the day came, an' Tim, with a lot o'his comrades, mounted their horses, and rode off to the bride's house,which was a mile or two up the river out of the town. Just as they werestartin', Tim's horse gave a plunge that well-nigh pitched him over itshead, an' Tim came down on him with a cut o' his heavy whip that soundedlike a pistol-shot. The beast was so mad at this that it gave a kind o'squeal an' another plunge that burst the girth, Tim brought the whipdown on its flank again, which made it shoot forward like an arrow outof a bow, leavin' poor Tim on the ground. So slick did it fly away thatit didn't even throw him on his back, but let him fall sittin'-wise,saddle and all, plump on the spot where he sprang from. Tim scratchedhis head an' grinned like a half-worried rattlesnake as his comradesalmost rolled off their saddles with laughin'. But it was no laughin'job, for poor Tim's leg was doubled under him an' broken across at thethigh. It was long before he was able to go about again, and when hedid recover he found that Louise and the young clerk were spliced an'away to Kentucky."
"So you see what are the probable consequences, Kate, if you use yourwhip so obstreperously again," cried Charley, pressing his horse into acanter.
Just at that moment a rabbit sprang from under a bush and darted awaybefore them. In an instant Harry Somerville gave a wild shout, and setoff in pursuit. Whether it was the cry or the sudden flight of Harry'shorse we cannot tell, but the next instant Kate's charger performed anindescribable flourish with its hind legs, laid back its ears, took thebit between its teeth, and ran away. Jacques was on its heelsinstantly, and a few seconds afterwards Charley and Harry joined in thepursuit, but their utmost efforts failed to do more than enable them tokeep their ground. Kate's horse was making for a dense thicket, intowhich it became evident they must certainly plunge. Harry and herbrother trembled when they looked at it and realised her danger; evenJacques's face showed some symptoms of perturbation for a moment as heglanced before him in indecision. The expression vanished, however, ina few seconds, and his cheerful, self-possessed look returned, as hecried out--
"Pull the left rein hard, Miss Kate; try to edge up the slope."
Kate heard the advice, and exerting all her strength succeeded inturning her horse a little to the left, which caused him to ascend agentle slope, at the top of which part of the thicket lay. She wasclosely followed by Harry and her brother, who urged their steeds madlyforward in the hope of catching her rein, while Jacques diverged alittle to the right. By this manoeuvre the latter hoped to gain on therunaway, as the ground along which he rode was comparatively level, witha short but steep ascent at the end of it, while that along which Kateflew like the wind was a regular ascent, that would prove very trying toher horse. At the margin of the thicket grew a row of high bushes,towards which they now galloped with frightful speed. As Kate came upto this natural fence, she observed the trapper approaching on the otherside of it. Springing from his jaded steed, without attempting to checkits pace, he leaped over the underwood like a stag just as the younggirl cleared the bushes at a bound. Grasping the reins, and checkingthe horse violently with one hand, he extended the other to Kate, wholeaped unhesitatingly into his arms. At the same instant Charleycleared the bushes, and pulled sharply up; while Harry's horse, unable,owing to its speed, to take the leap, came crashing through them, anddashed his rider with stunning violence to the ground.
Fortunately no bones were broken, and a draught of clear water, broughtby Jacques from a neighbouring pond, speedily restored Harry's shakenfaculties.
"Now, Kate," said Charley, leading forward the horse which he hadridden, "I have changed saddles, as you see; this horse will suit youbetter, and I'll take the shine out of your charger on the way home."
"Thank you, Charley," said Kate, with a smile. "I've quite recoveredfrom my fright--if, indeed, it is worth calling by that name; but I fearthat Harry has--"
"Oh, I'm all right," cried Harry, advancing as he spoke to assist Katein mounting. "I am ashamed to think that my wild cry was the cause ofall this."
In another minute they were again in their saddles, and turning theirfaces homeward, they swept over the plain at a steady gallop, fearinglest their accident should be the means of making Mr Kennedy waitdinner for them. On arriving, they found the old gentleman engaged inan animated discussion with the cook about laying the table-cloth, whichduty he had imposed on himself in Kate's absence.
"Ah, Kate, my love," he cried, as they entered, "come here, lass, andmount guard. I've almost broke my heart in trying to convince thatthick-headed goose that he can't set the table properly. Take it off myhands, like a good girl.--Charley, my boy, you'll be pleased to hearthat your old friend Redfeather is here."
"Redfeather, father!" exclaimed Charley, in surprise.
"Yes; he and the parson, from the other end of Lake Winnipeg, arrived anhour ago in a tin kettle, and are now on their way to the upper fort."
"That is indeed pleasant news; but I suspect that it will give muchgreater pleasure to our friend Jacques, who, I believe, would be glad tolay down his life for him, simply to prove his affection."
"Well, well," said the old gentleman, knocking the ashes out of hispipe, and refilling it so as to be ready for an after-dinner smoke,"Redfeather has come, and the parson's come too; and I look upon it asquite miraculous that they _have_ come, considering the _thing_ theycame in. What they've come for is more than I can tell, but I supposeit's connected with church affairs.--Now then, Kate, what's come o' thedinner, Kate? Stir up that grampus of a cook! I half expect that hehas boiled the cat for dinner, in his wrath, for it has been badgeringhim and me the whole morning.--Hollo, Harry, what's wrong?"
The last exclamation was in consequence of an expression of pain whichcrossed Harry's face for a moment.
"Nothing, nothing," replied Harry. "I've had a fall from my horse, andbruised my arm a little. But I'll see to it after dinner."
"That you shall not," cried Mr Kennedy, energetically, dragging hisyoung friend into his bedroom. "Off with your coat, lad. Let's see itat once. Ay, ay," he continued, examining Harry's left arm, which wasvery much discoloured, and swelled from the elbow to the shoulder,"that's a severe thump, my boy. But it's nothing to speak of; onlyyou'll have to submit to a sling for a day or two."
"That's annoying, certainly, but I'm thankful it's no worse," remarkedHarry, as Mr Kennedy dressed the arm after his own fashion, and thenreturned with him to the dining-room.