In the Van or The Builders Part 24

"Madam, it shall be done," said the Doctor, and he went out to complete arrangements.

"I hope you have a good report," said c.u.mmings, who was still waiting.

Harold told him and then sought the Colonel.

"The idea is an excellent one," said the latter. "Some of our baggage sleighs will also be delayed, for I've given orders to purchase an extra supply of feed for the horses at Hull. Of course during the summer the order is to supply us by the boats on the lakes--all right if the war is over, or if we whip the Yankees--but the other way if they beat us."

Some of the officers were nonplussed. Soldier-like, not bearing responsibility, they had never given the matter a thought, and the suggestion opened up a new difficulty.

"Don't take the thing too seriously, my men," Sir George finally exclaimed with a laugh. "It will come out all right, as everything does with the British soldier whichever way it goes. But I want to take a look at the river from yonder crest for a minute or two while we have time."

"Well!" he exclaimed again, as he cast his eye upon the hamlet on the other side of the Ottawa. "This is the first time I have ever marched _by_ a _town_ and camped outside."

"Why not change the name Sparksville[1] to Bytown, and give that as your reason, sir," suggested Smith.

"Not so bad," replied the Colonel briskly. "A garrison town could be built here, with fortifications, and this das.h.i.+ng river at our feet--providing Hull were in the hands of an enemy."

"Which can never be," put in the Doctor, "unless the French cut loose from the British and the Ottawa divides them."

"In that case we'd build a citadel," said Captain Payne, "and change Smith's Bytown to Out-away, as our command to the enemy."

"Which means," said Sir George, who was amused at the play upon words, "that we'd take the Hull of Ottawa."

"Sacre!" cried the Doctor with a flush, "that could never be. The Lower Province is stronger than the Upper one, and could beat it any day.

"Hoity, toity, man!" exclaimed the Colonel, elevating his eyebrows and smiling good-humoredly at the irate Anglo-Frenchman. "I should not think you would care exceedingly which way it went."

A general laugh followed, and the next moment the bugle sounded.

[Footnote 1: The original name of Sparksville, after a while, was changed to Bytown, and finally to Ottawa, capital of the Dominion of Canada.]

CHAPTER XXI.

HELEN'S DIARY.

"Roche Lake, Madawaska River, March ----, 1814.

"One hundred miles yet to face over this weary way! Oh, why did I come?

Harold is well and strong, and could have done without me; while I am a drag to him and the whole troop besides. It is two weeks since we left Sparksville, or Bytown, as Lieutenant Smith calls it, and I have had that miserable ague, in spite of the Doctor's medicine, every two days since we started. Sometimes I have a funny kind of delirium with it.

While it lasts my head buzzes and whirls, and when I walk I feel as if travelling with tremendous speed, and keep looking over my shoulder to see if some hideous object is not chasing me. The sensation is horrible, and the only relief is stillness. Even the motion of the sleigh affects me, no matter how quietly I sit. During those long drives along the Madawaska River the feeling was sometimes terrifying. I stood it while I could. At last Harold spoke to Sir George, and he promised, if I could endure it till we arrived at Roche Lake, to have a shanty built for me in which I could rest until able to finish the journey. The reason he chose Roche Lake was because we would there leave the smooth surface of the ice for heavier marching through the forest.

"It was very good of Sir George. He sent men on ahead to build the shanty, and now here we are, and a cozy cabin they have made of it, although isolated at least a hundred miles away from any other white man's dwelling. But I must jot down how it is built. To my surprise they put in a little window and a heavy board door they were taking out for the new fort. The roof is of split logs laid flat and covered with pine branches, and as it won't thaw for a month there is no danger of the snow melting and running through. The chimney is built of slabs of green timber put across one corner, leaving a hole in the roof; and the sides and back of the fireplace of sheet iron, intended for the smithy. It may be crude, but we women folk--astonis.h.i.+ng how clannish the life is making us--find it very comfortable, considering the long nights we have so often spent in the woods with a shelter not quarter so good.

"The journey from Bytown has been very weird to me, owing to my ague.

Still, I can remember the facts, I think. After Harold, the Doctor and I started that first afternoon, we drove until nearly dark along the old Jesuit trail before we overtook the men. They were putting up the camp for the night, and had taken special care to provide for my comfort, so that next morning, notwithstanding another chill, I was ready to continue the journey. After that, for three whole days, we were guided by Iroquois Indians, cutting our way through the woods to Calabogie Lake. These red men of the forest are not very picturesque. We saw nothing of their feathers and wampun and war paint. Perhaps that is because we are so far from the frontier, where all the battles are fought. Their dress resembles that of the habitants, and they are proving themselves both friendly and trustworthy. Nearly every day they bring in fresh venison or bear meat for sale, and to-day we were astonished by a present from them of a huge elk.

"Strange, however, we rarely see the squaws. Perhaps it is because they know that our men are a body of warriors going through the country, who would have little use for women.

"How our soldiers rejoiced on being ordered to march on the ice of the Madawaska! The river in some places is wide, winding in and out through a rugged and open country, but the ice is thick and the surface smooth and without drifts, save occasionally near a sudden bend. So, except where the rapids interfered, we had steady marching and driving for days over a road of our own make, and not along the Jesuit trail. The great drawbacks are the depths of snow to be shovelled away or tramped down, and the wearisome windings of the river.

"Harold tells me that a hundred miles as the crow flies on the Madawaska would be two hundred by the windings of the stream.

"But my ague is coming back. I must stop my scribbling, and will start it again to-morrow. It is so lonely out here in the woods that writing is like talking to an old friend. Oh, those wretched little imps! There they are again! You infernal bug-a-boos! You think you frighten me, do you? Oh, I wish Harold was here, but he can't be until night! How my head aches and swims, too! Still, I hate to give in. There, Emmiline in the other end is singing. So I will put down what she says, if I can, in spite of the little fiends who have been chasing me ever since I left the Ottawa.

Rock-a-bo babee up de tree Like vas de early morn, And ve vill mak de feu de joie And roast de Ingin corn.

Rock-a-bo babee, airly an' lat, Ven sweet de birdies sing; Pet.i.te garcon laugh an' ee grow fat, An' make de woods to ring.

Rock-a-bo babee, Patre is come From drivin' ever so far, Over de rivare, so glad he's home To wife and child, by gar.

"What a mercurial nature! She feels well and can sing a child song, notwithstanding all her sorrow."

Diary continued next day.

"My ague was not so bad yesterday, though I did see the little devils, and was disconsolate and blue all day, the bottom for a while being knocked out of everything. But the long rest helped me, and now that I feel better and have time, Mrs. Diary, I will have a good long chat with you. The men finished fixing the shanty this morning. The two women have a big kettle of water boiling outside and are doing some was.h.i.+ng for the men. They say there is enough to keep them busy every day for a week.

Emmiline--and, by the way, she sang that ditty very sweetly yestereen--is cooking over the fire at the other end of the room. She's as happy as a queen and is singing again. This time it's habitant love song. How good-natured and volatile these French-Canadians are! The loss of her two babies seem to be entirely forgotten in the joy of travelling out west with her husband. Outside we can hear the axes of Bateese and another driver chopping firewood for our camp. Harold, as well as Bond and Hardman, are all away with the Colonel and his men cutting a new road in and out among the granite boulders through the woods. They will be back to-night to remain with their wives until the morning. It seems an awfully funny arrangement--four married men with their wives to sleep together in a single shanty. What a terrible thing it would be if any of them got mixed!

"Strange, we never think of these things until they come upon us, and then we take them as a matter of course--simply, I suppose, because we have to. If I had known what lay before me on leaving England, I am just as sure as--Still--I would have done a great deal for Harold--G.o.d knows I would--and perhaps, yes, perhaps--What's the use of talking, anyway?

Whatever is, had to be; and whatever lies before us, we must face, whether we will or no.

"Still, these men are not a bit rude to me, and our long shanty is so arranged that our end is cut off from the rest, though what is said in ordinary talk can be heard all over the room. Then about our bed, I was going to tell how we make it, but I won't, even to you, Mrs. Diary.

"'Still keep somethin' to yoursel'

You'd scarcely tell to ony.'

"But I must say something more about our drive. For three or four days after leaving Bytown, Captain c.u.mmings was with me the half of each day while Harold was marching, and I must say he seemed a different man, just as gentlemanly as he could be, and so kind and thoughtful that I felt ashamed of having ever entertained suspicions. He was considerate, too, for on recovering the use of his ankle earlier than he expected, he suggested a return to the old role. I must say I was both glad and sorry to get some one else now and then in his place.

"Three days ago, though, one of my off days, in which I had no fever, he again drove with me the whole afternoon, and as it had occurred more than once before, I became interested in his conversation. He has read and travelled so much that his talk is instructive, and before you know it you are thrown off your guard. You vow to yourself that it shall never occur again, and yet it does occur, even before you know it. That afternoon we commenced almost at once to talk about Penetang.

"'Yes,' he said, 'I have taken the trouble to learn a good deal about it. It is short for Penetanguishene, the name given to it by the Ojibway Indians, and is said to be very picturesque.'

"'Has the name a meaning?' I asked.

"'Yes, it signifies the rolling sands or the s.h.i.+ning sh.o.r.es made by the G.o.ds of the fairies for lovers to bask upon.'

"'And do the Ojibways still live there?' I asked.

"Oh, no! Governor Simcoe bought the section twenty years ago from the Matchedash Indians for garrison purposes, and it is only now, by advice of the present Governor, Sir George Prevost, that the idea is being carried out."

"'And so we are going there to build the fort,' was my response.

"'Don't you think we are an admirable body for the purpose?' he asked.

'A valiant knight of the Cross, with full complement of officers and men to establish the quarters and put up the building, and a lady of quality to preside at our functions and be queen of the realm.'