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diff --git a/3245-h/3245-h.htm b/3245-h/3245-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e0170a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/3245-h/3245-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8267 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Black Rock, by Ralph Connor</title> + +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Black Rock, by Ralph Connor + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Black Rock + +Author: Ralph Connor + +Release Date: May 30, 2006 [EBook #3245] +[Most recently updated: March 4, 2021] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACK ROCK *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + BLACK ROCK + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + A TALE OF THE SELKIRKS <br /> <br /> By Ralph Connor + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION + </h2> + <p> + I think I have met “Ralph Conner.” Indeed, I am sure I have—once in + a canoe on the Red River, once on the Assinaboine, and twice or thrice on + the prairies to the West. That was not the name he gave me, but, if I am + right, it covers one of the most honest and genial of the strong + characters that are fighting the devil and doing good work for men all + over the world. He has seen with his own eyes the life which he describes + in this book, and has himself, for some years of hard and lonely toil, + assisted in the good influences which he traces among its wild and often + hopeless conditions. He writes with the freshness and accuracy of an + eye-witness, with the style (as I think his readers will allow) of a real + artist, and with the tenderness and hopefulness of a man not only of faith + but of experience, who has seen in fulfillment the ideals for which he + lives. + </p> + <p> + The life to which he takes us, though far off and very strange to our tame + minds, is the life of our brothers. Into the Northwest of Canada the young + men of Great Britain and Ireland have been pouring (I was told), sometimes + at the rate of 48,000 a year. Our brothers who left home yesterday—our + hearts cannot but follow them. With these pages Ralph Conner enables our + eyes and our minds to follow, too; nor do I think there is any one who + shall read this book and not find also that his conscience is quickened. + There is a warfare appointed unto man upon earth, and its struggles are + nowhere more intense, nor the victories of the strong, nor the succors + brought to the fallen, more heroic, than on the fields described in this + volume. + </p> + <p> + GEORGE ADAM SMITH. <br /> <br /> BLACK ROCK + </p> + <p> + The story of the book is true, and chief of the failures in the making of + the book is this, that it is not all the truth. The light is not bright + enough, the shadow is not black enough to give a true picture of that bit + of Western life of which the writer was some small part. The men of the + book are still there in the mines and lumber camps of the mountains, + fighting out that eternal fight for manhood, strong, clean, God-conquered. + And, when the west winds blow, to the open ear the sounds of battle come, + telling the fortunes of the fight. + </p> + <p> + Because a man’s life is all he has, and because the only hope of the brave + young West lies in its men, this story is told. It may be that the tragic + pity of a broken life may move some to pray, and that that divine power + there is in a single brave heart to summon forth hope and courage may move + some to fight. If so, the tale is not told in vain. + </p> + <p> + C.W.G. <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0001">CHAPTER I. CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0002">CHAPTER II. THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0003">CHAPTER III. WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT—HIS VICTORY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0004">CHAPTER IV. MRS. MAVOR’S STORY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0005">CHAPTER V. THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0006">CHAPTER VI. BLACK ROCK RELIGION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0007">CHAPTER VII. THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0008">CHAPTER VIII. THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0009">CHAPTER IX. THE LEAGUE’S REVENGE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0010">CHAPTER X. WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0011">CHAPTER XI. THE TWO CALLS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0012">CHAPTER XII. LOVE IS NOT ALL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0013">CHAPTER XIII. HOW NELSON CAME HOME</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0014">CHAPTERS XIV. GRAEME’S NEW BIRTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#link2HCH0015">CHAPTER XV. COMING TO THEIR OWN</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP + </h3> + <p> + It was due to a mysterious dispensation of Providence, and a good deal to + Leslie Graeme, that I found myself in the heart of the Selkirks for my + Christmas Eve as the year 1882 was dying. It had been my plan to spend my + Christmas far away in Toronto, with such Bohemian and boon companions as + could be found in that cosmopolitan and kindly city. But Leslie Graeme + changed all that, for, discovering me in the village of Black Rock, with + my traps all packed, waiting for the stage to start for the Landing, + thirty miles away, he bore down upon me with resistless force, and I found + myself recovering from my surprise only after we had gone in his lumber + sleigh some six miles on our way to his camp up in the mountains. I was + surprised and much delighted, though I would not allow him to think so, to + find that his old-time power over me was still there. He could always in + the old ‘Varsity days—dear, wild days—make me do what he + liked. He was so handsome and so reckless, brilliant in his class-work, + and the prince of half-backs on the Rugby field, and with such power of + fascination, as would ‘extract the heart out of a wheelbarrow,’ as Barney + Lundy used to say. And thus it was that I found myself just three weeks + later—I was to have spent two or three days,—on the afternoon + of the 24th of December, standing in Graeme’s Lumber Camp No. 2, wondering + at myself. But I did not regret my changed plans, for in those three weeks + I had raided a cinnamon bear’s den and had wakened up a grizzly—But + I shall let the grizzly finish the tale; he probably sees more humour in + it than I. + </p> + <p> + The camp stood in a little clearing, and consisted of a group of three + long, low shanties with smaller shacks near them, all built of heavy, + unhewn logs, with door and window in each. The grub camp, with cook-shed + attached, stood in the middle of the clearing; at a little distance was + the sleeping-camp with the office built against it, and about a hundred + yards away on the other side of the clearing stood the stables, and near + them the smiddy. The mountains rose grandly on every side, throwing up + their great peaks into the sky. The clearing in which the camp stood was + hewn out of a dense pine forest that filled the valley and climbed half + way up the mountain-sides, and then frayed out in scattered and stunted + trees. + </p> + <p> + It was one of those wonderful Canadian winter days, bright, and with a + touch of sharpness in the air that did not chill, but warmed the blood + like draughts of wine. The men were up in the woods, and the shrill scream + of the blue jay flashing across the open, the impudent chatter of the red + squirrel from the top of the grub camp, and the pert chirp of the + whisky-jack, hopping about on the rubbish-heap, with the long, lone cry of + the wolf far down the valley, only made the silence felt the more. + </p> + <p> + As I stood drinking in with all my soul the glorious beauty and the + silence of mountain and forest, with the Christmas feeling stealing into + me, Graeme came out from his office, and, catching sight of me, called + out, ‘Glorious Christmas weather, old chap!’ And then, coming nearer, + ‘Must you go to-morrow?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I fear so,’ I replied, knowing well that the Christmas feeling was on him + too. + </p> + <p> + ‘I wish I were going with you,’ he said quietly. + </p> + <p> + I turned eagerly to persuade him, but at the look of suffering in his face + the words died at my lips, for we both were thinking of the awful night of + horror when all his bright, brilliant life crashed down about him in black + ruin and shame. I could only throw my arm over his shoulder and stand + silent beside him. A sudden jingle of bells roused him, and, giving + himself a little shake, he exclaimed, ‘There are the boys coming home.’ + </p> + <p> + Soon the camp was filled with men talking, laughing, chaffing, like + light-hearted boys. + </p> + <p> + ‘They are a little wild to-night,’ said Graeme; ‘and to morrow they’ll + paint Black Rock red.’ + </p> + <p> + Before many minutes had gone, the last teamster was ‘washed up,’ and all + were standing about waiting impatiently for the cook’s signal—the + supper to-night was to be ‘something of a feed’—when the sound of + bells drew their attention to a light sleigh drawn by a buckskin broncho + coming down the hillside at a great pace. + </p> + <p> + ‘The preacher, I’ll bet, by his driving,’ said one of the men. + </p> + <p> + ‘Bedad, and it’s him has the foine nose for turkey!’ said Blaney, a + good-natured, jovial Irishman. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, or for pay-day, more like,’ said Keefe, a black-browed, villainous + fellow-countryman of Blaney’s, and, strange to say, his great friend. + </p> + <p> + Big Sandy M’Naughton, a Canadian Highlander from Glengarry, rose up in + wrath. ‘Bill Keefe,’ said he, with deliberate emphasis, ‘you’ll just keep + your dirty tongue off the minister; and as for your pay, it’s little he + sees of it, or any one else, except Mike Slavin, when you’re too dry to + wait for some one to treat you, or perhaps Father Ryan, when the fear of + hell-fire is on to you.’ + </p> + <p> + The men stood amazed at Sandy’s sudden anger and length of speech. + </p> + <p> + ‘Bon; dat’s good for you, my bully boy,’ said Baptiste, a wiry little + French-Canadian, Sandy’s sworn ally and devoted admirer ever since the day + when the big Scotsman, under great provocation, had knocked him clean off + the dump into the river and then jumped in for him. + </p> + <p> + It was not till afterwards I learned the cause of Sandy’s sudden wrath + which urged him to such unwonted length of speech. It was not simply that + the Presbyterian blood carried with it reverence for the minister and + contempt for Papists and Fenians, but that he had a vivid remembrance of + how, only a month ago, the minister had got him out of Mike Slavin’s + saloon and out the clutches of Keefe and Slavin and their gang of + bloodsuckers. + </p> + <p> + Keefe started up with a curse. Baptiste sprang to Sandy’s side, slapped + him on the back, and called out, ‘You keel him, I’ll hit (eat) him up, + me.’ + </p> + <p> + It looked as if there might be a fight, when a harsh voice said in a low, + savage tone, ‘Stop your row, you blank fools; settle it, if you want to, + somewhere else.’ I turned, and was amazed to see old man Nelson, who was + very seldom moved to speech. + </p> + <p> + There was a look of scorn on his hard, iron-grey face, and of such settled + fierceness as made me quite believe the tales I had heard of his deadly + fights in the mines at the coast. Before any reply could be made, the + minister drove up and called out in a cheery voice, ‘Merry Christmas, + boys! Hello, Sandy! Comment ca va, Baptiste? How do you do, Mr. Graeme?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘First rate. Let me introduce my friend, Mr. Connor, sometime medical + student, now artist, hunter, and tramp at large, but not a bad sort.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A man to be envied,’ said the minister, smiling. ‘I am glad to know any + friend of Mr. Graeme’s.’ + </p> + <p> + I liked Mr. Craig from the first. He had good eyes that looked straight + out at you, a clean-cut, strong face well set on his shoulders, and + altogether an upstanding, manly bearing. He insisted on going with Sandy + to the stables to see Dandy, his broncho, put up. + </p> + <p> + ‘Decent fellow,’ said Graeme; ‘but though he is good enough to his + broncho, it is Sandy that’s in his mind now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Does he come out often? I mean, are you part of his parish, so to speak?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have no doubt he thinks so; and I’m blowed if he doesn’t make the + Presbyterians of us think so too.’ And he added after a pause, ‘A dandy + lot of parishioners we are for any man. There’s Sandy, now, he would knock + Keefe’s head off as a kind of religious exercise; but to-morrow Keefe will + be sober, and Sandy will be drunk as a lord, and the drunker he is the + better Presbyterian he’ll be; to the preacher’s disgust.’ Then after + another pause he added bitterly, ‘But it is not for me to throw rocks at + Sandy; I am not the same kind of fool, but I am a fool of several other + sorts.’ + </p> + <p> + Then the cook came out and beat a tattoo on the bottom of a dish-pan. + Baptiste answered with a yell: but though keenly hungry, no man would + demean himself to do other than walk with apparent reluctance to his place + at the table. At the further end of the camp was a big fireplace, and from + the door to the fireplace extended the long board tables, covered with + platters of turkey not too scientifically carved, dishes of potatoes, + bowls of apple sauce, plates of butter, pies, and smaller dishes + distributed at regular intervals. Two lanterns hanging from the roof, and + a row of candles stuck into the wall on either side by means of slit + sticks, cast a dim, weird light over the scene. + </p> + <p> + There was a moment’s silence, and at a nod from Graeme Mr. Craig rose and + said, ‘I don’t know how you feel about it, men, but to me this looks good + enough to be thankful for.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fire ahead, sir,’ called out a voice quite respectfully, and the minister + bent his head and said— ‘For Christ the Lord who came to save us, + for all the love and goodness we have known, and for these Thy gifts to us + this Christmas night, our Father, make us thankful. Amen.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Bon, dat’s fuss rate,’ said Baptiste. ‘Seems lak dat’s make me hit (eat) + more better for sure,’ and then no word was spoken for quarter of an hour. + The occasion was far too solemn and moments too precious for anything so + empty as words. But when the white piles of bread and the brown piles of + turkey had for a second time vanished, and after the last pie had + disappeared, there came a pause and hush of expectancy, whereupon the cook + and cookee, each bearing aloft a huge, blazing pudding, came forth. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hooray!’ yelled Blaney, ‘up wid yez!’ and grabbing the cook by the + shoulders from behind, he faced him about. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Craig was the first to respond, and seizing the cookee in the same + way, called out, ‘Squad, fall in! quick march!’ In a moment every man was + in the procession. + </p> + <p> + ‘Strike up, Batchees, ye little angel!’ shouted Blaney, the appellation a + concession to the minister’s presence; and away went Baptiste in a + rollicking French song with the English chorus— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Then blow, ye winds, in the morning, + Blow, ye winds, ay oh! + Blow, ye winds, in the morning, + Blow, blow, blow.’ +</pre> + <p> + And at each ‘blow’ every boot came down with a thump on the plank floor + that shook the solid roof. After the second round, Mr. Craig jumped upon + the bench, and called out— + </p> + <p> + ‘Three cheers for Billy the cook!’ + </p> + <p> + In the silence following the cheers Baptiste was heard to say, ‘Bon! dat’s + mak me feel lak hit dat puddin’ all hup mesef, me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hear till the little baste!’ said Blaney in disgust. + </p> + <p> + ‘Batchees,’ remonstrated Sandy gravely, ‘ye’ve more stomach than manners.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fu sure! but de more stomach dat’s more better for dis puddin’,’ replied + the little Frenchman cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + After a time the tables were cleared and pushed back to the wall, and + pipes were produced. In all attitudes suggestive of comfort the men + disposed themselves in a wide circle about the fire, which now roared and + crackled up the great wooden chimney hanging from the roof. The + lumberman’s hour of bliss had arrived. Even old man Nelson looked a shade + less melancholy than usual as he sat alone, well away from the fire, + smoking steadily and silently. When the second pipes were well a-going, + one of the men took down a violin from the wall and handed it to Lachlan + Campbell. There were two brothers Campbell just out from Argyll, typical + Highlanders: Lachlan, dark, silent, melancholy, with the face of a mystic, + and Angus, red-haired, quick, impulsive, and devoted to his brother, a + devotion he thought proper to cover under biting, sarcastic speech. + </p> + <p> + Lachlan, after much protestation, interspersed with gibes from his + brother, took the violin, and, in response to the call from all sides, + struck up ‘Lord Macdonald’s Reel.’ In a moment the floor was filled with + dancers, whooping and cracking their fingers in the wildest manner. Then + Baptiste did the ‘Red River Jig,’ a most intricate and difficult series of + steps, the men keeping time to the music with hands and feet. + </p> + <p> + When the jig was finished, Sandy called for ‘Lochaber No More’; but + Campbell said, ‘No, no! I cannot play that to-night. Mr. Craig will play.’ + </p> + <p> + Craig took the violin, and at the first note I knew he was no ordinary + player. I did not recognise the music, but it was soft and thrilling, and + got in by the heart, till every one was thinking his tenderest and saddest + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + After he had played two or three exquisite bits, he gave Campbell his + violin, saying, ‘Now, “Lochaber,” Lachlan.’ + </p> + <p> + Without a word Lachlan began, not ‘Lochaber’—he was not ready for + that yet—but ‘The Flowers o’ the Forest,’ and from that wandered + through ‘Auld Robin Gray’ and ‘The Land o’ the Leal,’ and so got at last + to that most soul-subduing of Scottish laments, ‘Lochaber No More.’ At the + first strain, his brother, who had thrown himself on some blankets behind + the fire, turned over on his face, feigning sleep. Sandy M’Naughton took + his pipe out of his mouth, and sat up straight and stiff, staring into + vacancy, and Graeme, beyond the fire, drew a short, sharp breath. We had + often sat, Graeme and I, in our student-days, in the drawing-room at home, + listening to his father wailing out ‘Lochaber’ upon the pipes, and I well + knew that the awful minor strains were now eating their way into his soul. + </p> + <p> + Over and over again the Highlander played his lament. He had long since + forgotten us, and was seeing visions of the hills and lochs and glens of + his far-away native land, and making us, too, see strange things out of + the dim past. I glanced at old man Nelson, and was startled at the eager, + almost piteous, look in his eyes, and I wished Campbell would stop. Mr. + Craig caught my eye, and, stepping over to Campbell, held out his hand for + the violin. Lingeringly and lovingly the Highlander drew out the last + strain, and silently gave the minister his instrument. + </p> + <p> + Without a moment’s pause, and while the spell of ‘Lochaber’ was still upon + us, the minister, with exquisite skill, fell into the refrain of that + simple and beautiful camp-meeting hymn, ‘The Sweet By and By.’ After + playing the verse through once, he sang softly the refrain. After the + first verse, the men joined in the chorus; at first timidly, but by the + time the third verse was reached they were shouting with throats full + open, ‘We shall meet on that beautiful shore.’ When I looked at Nelson the + eager light had gone out of his eyes, and in its place was kind of + determined hopelessness, as if in this new music he had no part. + </p> + <p> + After the voices had ceased, Mr. Craig played again the refrain, more and + more softly and slowly; then laying the violin on Campbell’s knees, he + drew from his pocket his little Bible, and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Men, with Mr. Graeme’s permission, I want to read you something this + Christmas Eve. You will all have heard it before, but you will like it + none the less for that.’ + </p> + <p> + His voice was soft, but clear and penetrating, as he read the eternal + story of the angels and the shepherds and the Babe. And as he read, a + slight motion of the hand or a glance of an eye made us see, as he was + seeing, that whole radiant drama. The wonder, the timid joy, the + tenderness, the mystery of it all, were borne in upon us with overpowering + effect. He closed the book, and in the same low, clear voice went on to + tell us how, in his home years ago, he used to stand on Christmas Eve + listening in thrilling delight to his mother telling him the story, and + how she used to make him see the shepherds and hear the sheep bleating + near by, and how the sudden burst of glory used to make his heart jump. + </p> + <p> + ‘I used to be a little afraid of the angels, because a boy told me they + were ghosts; but my mother told me better, and I didn’t fear them any + more. And the Baby, the dear little Baby—we all love a baby.’ There + was a quick, dry sob; it was from Nelson. ‘I used to peek through under to + see the little one in the straw, and wonder what things swaddling clothes + were. Oh, it was all so real and so beautiful!’ He paused, and I could + hear the men breathing. + </p> + <p> + ‘But one Christmas Eve,’ he went on, in a lower, sweeter tone, ‘there was + no one to tell me the story, and I grew to forget it, and went away to + college, and learned to think that it was only a child’s tale and was not + for men. Then bad days came to me and worse, and I began to lose my grip + of myself, of life, of hope, of goodness, till one black Christmas, in the + slums of a faraway city, when I had given up all, and the devil’s arms + were about me, I heard the story again. And as I listened, with a bitter + ache in my heart, for I had put it all behind me, I suddenly found myself + peeking under the shepherds’ arms with a child’s wonder at the Baby in the + straw. Then it came over me like great waves, that His name was Jesus, + because it was He that should save men from their sins. Save! Save! The + waves kept beating upon my ears, and before I knew, I had called out, “Oh! + can He save me?” It was in a little mission meeting on one of the side + streets, and they seemed to be used to that sort of thing there, for no + one was surprised; and a young fellow leaned across the aisle to me and + said, “Why! you just bet He can!” His surprise that I should doubt, his + bright face and confident tone, gave me hope that perhaps it might be so. + I held to that hope with all my soul, and’—stretching up his arms, + and with a quick glow in his face and a little break in his voice, ‘He + hasn’t failed me yet; not once, not once!’ + </p> + <p> + He stopped quite short, and I felt a good deal like making a fool of + myself, for in those days I had not made up my mind about these things. + Graeme, poor old chap, was gazing at him with a sad yearning in his dark + eyes; big Sandy was sitting very stiff, and staring harder than ever into + the fire; Baptiste was trembling with excitement; Blaney was openly wiping + the tears away. But the face that held my eyes was that of old man Nelson. + It was white, fierce, hungry-looking, his sunken eyes burning, his lips + parted as if to cry. + </p> + <p> + The minister went on. ‘I didn’t mean to tell you this, men, it all came + over me with a rush; but it is true, every word, and not a word will I + take back. And, what’s more, I can tell you this, what He did for me He + can do for any man, and it doesn’t make any difference what’s behind him, + and’—leaning slightly forward, and with a little thrill of pathos + vibrating in his voice—‘O boys, why don’t you give Him a chance at + you? Without Him you’ll never be the men you want to be, and you’ll never + get the better of that that’s keeping some of you now from going back + home. You know you’ll never go back till you’re the men you want to be.’ + Then, lifting up his face and throwing back his head, he said, as if to + himself, ‘Jesus! He shall save His people from their sins,’ and then, ‘Let + us pray.’ + </p> + <p> + Graeme leaned forward with his face in his hands; Baptiste and Blaney + dropped on their knees; Sandy, the Campbells, and some others, stood up. + Old man Nelson held his eyes steadily on the minister. + </p> + <p> + Only once before had I seen that look on a human face. A young fellow had + broken through the ice on the river at home, and as the black water was + dragging his fingers one by one from the slippery edges, there came over + his face that same look. I used to wake up for many a night after in a + sweat of horror, seeing the white face with its parting lips, and its + piteous, dumb appeal, and the black water slowly sucking it down. + </p> + <p> + Nelson’s face brought it all back; but during the prayer the face changed, + and seemed to settle into resolve of some sort, stern, almost gloomy, as + of a man with his last chance before him. + </p> + <p> + After the prayer Mr. Craig invited the men to a Christmas dinner next day + in Black Rock. ‘And because you are an independent lot, we’ll charge you + half a dollar for dinner and the evening show.’ Then leaving a bundle of + magazines and illustrated papers on the table—a godsend to the men—he + said good-bye and went out. + </p> + <p> + I was to go with the minister, so I jumped into the sleigh first, and + waited while he said good-bye to Graeme, who had been hard hit by the + whole service, and seemed to want to say something. I heard Mr. Craig say + cheerfully and confidently, ‘It’s a true bill: try Him.’ + </p> + <p> + Sandy, who had been steadying Dandy while that interesting broncho was + attempting with great success to balance himself on his hind legs, came to + say good-bye. ‘Come and see me first thing, Sandy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay! I know; I’ll see ye, Mr. Craig,’ said Sandy earnestly, as Dandy + dashed off at a full gallop across the clearing and over the bridge, + steadying down when he reached the hill. + </p> + <p> + ‘Steady, you idiot!’ + </p> + <p> + This was to Dandy, who had taken a sudden side spring into the deep snow, + almost upsetting us. A man stepped out from the shadow. It was old man + Nelson. He came straight to the sleigh, and, ignoring my presence + completely, said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr. Craig, are you dead sure of this? Will it work?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you mean,’ said Craig, taking him up promptly, ‘can Jesus Christ save + you from your sins and make a man of you?’ + </p> + <p> + The old man nodded, keeping his hungry eyes on the other’s face. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, here’s His message to you: “The Son of Man is come to seek and to + save that which was lost.”’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To me? To me?’ said the old man eagerly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Listen; this, too, is His Word: “Him that cometh unto Me I will in no + wise cast out.” That’s for you, for here you are, coming.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t know me, Mr. Craig. I left my baby fifteen years ago because—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Stop!’ said the minister. ‘Don’t tell me, at least not to-night; perhaps + never. Tell Him who knows it all now, and who never betrays a secret. Have + it out with Him. Don’t be afraid to trust Him.’ + </p> + <p> + Nelson looked at him, with his face quivering, and said in a husky voice, + ‘If this is no good, it’s hell for me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘If it is no good,’ replied Craig, almost sternly, ‘it’s hell for all of + us.’ + </p> + <p> + The old man straightened himself up, looked up at the stars, then back at + Mr. Craig, then at me, and, drawing a deep breath, said, ‘I’ll try Him.’ + As he was turning away the minister touched him on the arm, and said + quietly, ‘Keep an eye on Sandy to-morrow.’ + </p> + <p> + Nelson nodded, and we went on; but before we took the next turn I looked + back and saw what brought a lump into my throat. It was old man Nelson on + his knees in the snow, with his hands spread upward to the stars, and I + wondered if there was any One above the stars, and nearer than the stars, + who could see. And then the trees hid him from my sight + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS + </h3> + <p> + Many strange Christmas Days have I seen, but that wild Black Rock + Christmas stands out strangest of all. While I was revelling in my + delicious second morning sleep, just awake enough to enjoy it, Mr. Craig + came abruptly, announcing breakfast and adding, ‘Hope you are in good + shape, for we have our work before us this day.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hello!’ I replied, still half asleep, and anxious to hide from the + minister that I was trying to gain a few more moments of snoozing delight, + ‘what’s abroad?’. + </p> + <p> + ‘The devil,’ he answered shortly, and with such emphasis that I sat bolt + upright, looking anxiously about. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! no need for alarm. He’s not after you particularly—at least not + to-day,’ said Craig, with a shadow of a smile. ‘But he is going about in + good style, I can tell you.’ + </p> + <p> + By this time I was quite awake. ‘Well, what particular style does His + Majesty affect this morning?’ + </p> + <p> + He pulled out a showbill. ‘Peculiarly gaudy and effective, is it not?’ + </p> + <p> + The items announced were sufficiently attractive. The ‘Frisco Opera + Company were to produce the ‘screaming farce,’ ‘The Gay and Giddy Dude’; + after which there was to be a ‘Grand Ball,’ during which the ‘Kalifornia + Female Kickers’ were to do some fancy figures; the whole to be followed by + a ‘big supper’ with ‘two free drinks to every man and one to the lady,’ + and all for the insignificant sum of two dollars. + </p> + <p> + ‘Can’t you go one better?’ I said. + </p> + <p> + He looked inquiringly and a little disgustedly at me. + </p> + <p> + ‘What can you do against free drinks and a dance, not to speak of the + “High Kickers”?’ he groaned. + </p> + <p> + ‘No!’ he continued; ‘it’s a clean beat for us today. The miners and + lumbermen will have in their pockets ten thousand dollars, and every + dollar burning a hole; and Slavin and his gang will get most of it. But,’ + he added, ‘you must have breakfast. You’ll find a tub in the kitchen; + don’t be afraid to splash. It is the best I have to offer you.’ + </p> + <p> + The tub sounded inviting, and before many minutes had passed I was in a + delightful glow, the effect of cold water and a rough towel, and that + consciousness of virtue that comes to a man who has had courage to face + his cold bath on a winter morning. + </p> + <p> + The breakfast was laid with fine taste. A diminutive pine-tree, in a pot + hung round with wintergreen, stood in the centre of the table. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, now, this looks good; porridge, beefsteak, potatoes, toast, and + marmalade.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope you will enjoy it all.’ + </p> + <p> + There was not much talk over our meal. Mr. Craig was evidently + preoccupied, and as blue as his politeness would allow him. Slavin’s + victory weighed upon his spirits. Finally he burst out, ‘Look here! I + can’t, I won’t stand it; something must be done. Last Christmas this town + was for two weeks, as one of the miners said, “a little suburb of hell.” + It was something too awful. And at the end of it all one young fellow was + found dead in his shack, and twenty or more crawled back to the camps, + leaving their three months’ pay with Slavin and his suckers. + </p> + <p> + ‘I won’t stand it, I say.’ He turned fiercely on me. ‘What’s to be done?’ + </p> + <p> + This rather took me aback, for I had troubled myself with nothing of this + sort in my life before, being fully occupied in keeping myself out of + difficulty, and allowing others the same privilege. So I ventured the + consolation that he had done his part, and that a spree more or less would + not make much difference to these men. But the next moment I wished I had + been slower in speech, for he swiftly faced me, and his words came like a + torrent. + </p> + <p> + ‘God forgive you that heartless word! Do you know—? But no; you + don’t know what you are saying. You don’t know that these men have been + clambering for dear life out of a fearful pit for three months past, and + doing good climbing too, poor chaps. You don’t think that some of them + have wives, most of them mothers and sisters, in the east or across the + sea, for whose sake they are slaving here; the miners hoping to save + enough to bring their families to this homeless place, the rest to make + enough to go back with credit. Why, there’s Nixon, miner, splendid chap; + has been here for two years, and drawing the highest pay. Twice he has + been in sight of his heaven, for he can’t speak of his wife and babies + without breaking up, and twice that slick son of the devil—that’s + Scripture, mind you—Slavin, got him, and “rolled” him, as the boys + say. He went back to the mines broken in body and in heart. He says this + is his third and last chance. If Slavin gets him, his wife and babies will + never see him on earth or in heaven. There is Sandy, too, and the rest. + And,’ he added, in a lower tone, and with the curious little thrill of + pathos in his voice, ‘this is the day the Saviour came to the world.’ He + paused, and then with a little sad smile, ‘But I don’t want to abuse you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do, I enjoy it, I’m a beast, a selfish beast’; for somehow his intense, + blazing earnestness made me feel uncomfortably small. + </p> + <p> + ‘What have we to offer?’ I demanded. + </p> + <p> + ‘Wait till I have got these things cleared away, and my housekeeping + done.’ + </p> + <p> + I pressed my services upon him, somewhat feebly, I own, for I can’t bear + dishwater; but he rejected my offer. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t like trusting my china to the hands of a tender-foot.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Quite right, though your china would prove an excellent means of defence + at long range.’ It was delf, a quarter of an inch thick. So I smoked while + he washed up, swept, dusted, and arranged the room. + </p> + <p> + After the room was ordered to his taste, we proceeded to hold council. He + could offer dinner, magic lantern, music. ‘We can fill in time for two + hours, but,’ he added gloomily, ‘we can’t beat the dance and the “High + Kickers.”’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Have you nothing new or startling?’ + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. + </p> + <p> + ‘No kind of show? Dog show? Snake charmer?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Slavin has a monopoly of the snakes.’ + </p> + <p> + Then he added hesitatingly, ‘There was an old Punch-and-Judy chap here + last year, but he died. Whisky again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What happened to his show?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The Black Rock Hotel man took it for board and whisky bill. He has it + still, I suppose.’ + </p> + <p> + I did not much relish the business; but I hated to see him beaten, so I + ventured, ‘I have run a Punch and Judy in an amateur way at the ‘Varsity.’ + </p> + <p> + He sprang to his feet with a yell. + </p> + <p> + ‘You have! you mean to say it? We’ve got them! We’ve beaten them!’ He had + an extraordinary way of taking your help for granted. ‘The miner chaps, + mostly English and Welsh, went mad over the poor old showman, and made him + so wealthy that in sheer gratitude he drank himself to death.’ + </p> + <p> + He walked up and down in high excitement and in such evident delight that + I felt pledged to my best effort. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ I said, ‘first the poster. We must beat them in that.’ + </p> + <p> + He brought me large sheets of brown paper, and after two hours’ hard work + I had half a dozen pictorial showbills done in gorgeous colours and + striking designs. They were good, if I do say it myself. + </p> + <p> + The turkey, the magic lantern, the Punch and Judy show were all there, the + last with a crowd before it in gaping delight. A few explanatory words + were thrown in, emphasising the highly artistic nature of the Punch and + Judy entertainment. + </p> + <p> + Craig was delighted, and proceeded to perfect his plans. He had some half + a dozen young men, four young ladies, and eight or ten matrons, upon whom + he could depend for help. These he organised into a vigilance committee + charged with the duty of preventing miners and lumbermen from getting away + to Slavin’s. ‘The critical moments will be immediately before and after + dinner, and then again after the show is over,’ he explained. ‘The first + two crises must be left to the care of Punch and Judy, and as for the + last, I am not yet sure what shall be done’; but I saw he had something in + his head, for he added, ‘I shall see Mrs. Mavor.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Who is Mrs. Mavor?’ I asked. But he made no reply. He was a born fighter, + and he put the fighting spirit into us all. We were bound to win. + </p> + <p> + The sports were to begin at two o’clock. By lunch-time everything was in + readiness. After lunch I was having a quiet smoke in Craig’s shack when in + he rushed, saying— + </p> + <p> + ‘The battle will be lost before it is fought. If we lose Quatre Bras, we + shall never get to Waterloo.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s up?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Slavin, just now. The miners are coming in, and he will have them in tow + in half an hour.’ + </p> + <p> + He looked at me appealingly. I knew what he wanted. + </p> + <p> + ‘All right; I suppose I must, but it is an awful bore that a man can’t + have a quiet smoke.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re not half a bad fellow,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I shall get the + ladies to furnish coffee inside the booth. You furnish them intellectual + nourishment in front with dear old Punch and Judy.’ + </p> + <p> + He sent a boy with a bell round the village announcing, ‘Punch, and Judy + in front of the Christmas booth beside the church’; and for three-quarters + of an hour I shrieked and sweated in that awful little pen. But it was + almost worth it to hear the shouts of approval and laughter that greeted + my performance. It was cold work standing about, so that the crowd was + quite ready to respond when Punch, after being duly hanged, came forward + and invited all into the booth for the hot coffee which Judy had ordered. + </p> + <p> + In they trooped, and Quatre Bras was won. + </p> + <p> + No sooner were the miners safely engaged with their coffee than I heard a + great noise of bells and of men shouting; and on reaching the street I saw + that the men from the lumber camp were coming in. Two immense sleighs, + decorated with ribbons and spruce boughs, each drawn by a four-horse team + gaily adorned, filled with some fifty men, singing and shouting with all + their might, were coming down the hill road at full gallop. Round the + corner they swung, dashed at full speed across the bridge and down the + street, and pulled up after they had made the circuit of a block, to the + great admiration of the onlookers. Among others Slavin sauntered up + good-naturedly, making himself agreeable to Sandy and those who were + helping to unhitch his team. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, you need not take trouble with me or my team, Mike Slavin. Batchees + and me and the boys can look after them fine,’ said Sandy coolly. + </p> + <p> + This rejecting of hospitality was perfectly understood by Slavin and by + all. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dat’s too bad, heh?’ said Baptiste wickedly; ‘and, Sandy, he’s got good + money on his pocket for sure, too.’ The boys laughed, and Slavin, joining + in, turned away with Keele and Blaney; but by the look in his eye I knew + he was playing ‘Br’er Rabbit,’ and lying low. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Craig just then came up, ‘Hello, boys! too late for Punch and Judy, + but just in time for hot coffee and doughnuts.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Bon; dat’s fuss rate,’ said Baptiste heartily; ‘where you keep him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Up in the tent next the church there. The miners are all in.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, dat so? Dat’s bad news for the shantymen, heh, Sandy?’ said the + little Frenchman dolefully. + </p> + <p> + ‘There was a clothes-basket full of doughnuts and a boiler of coffee left + as I passed just now,’ said Craig encouragingly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Allons, mes garcons; vite! never say keel!’ cried Baptiste excitedly, + stripping off the harness. + </p> + <p> + But Sandy would not leave the horses till they were carefully rubbed down, + blanketed, and fed, for he was entered for the four-horse race and it + behoved him to do his best to win. Besides, he scorned to hurry himself + for anything so unimportant as eating; that he considered hardly worthy + even of Baptiste. Mr. Craig managed to get a word with him before he went + off, and I saw Sandy solemnly and emphatically shake his head, saying, + ‘Ah! we’ll beat him this day,’ and I gathered that he was added to the + vigilance committee. + </p> + <p> + Old man Nelson was busy with his own team. He turned slowly at Mr. Craig’s + greeting, ‘How is it, Nelson?’ and it was with a very grave voice he + answered, ‘I hardly know, sir; but I am not gone yet, though it seems + little to hold to.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All you want for a grip is what your hand can cover. What would you have? + And besides, do you know why you are not gone yet?’ + </p> + <p> + The old man waited, looking at the minister gravely. + </p> + <p> + ‘Because He hasn’t let go His grip of you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How do you know He’s gripped me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, look here, Nelson, do you want to quit this thing and give it all + up?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no! For heaven’s sake, no! Why, do you think I have lost it?’ said + Nelson, almost piteously. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, He’s keener about it than you; and I’ll bet you haven’t thought it + worth while to thank Him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To thank Him,’ he repeated, almost stupidly, ‘for—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For keeping you where you are overnight,’ said Mr. Craig, almost sternly. + </p> + <p> + The old man gazed at the minister, a light growing in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re right. Thank God, you’re right.’ And then he turned quickly away, + and went into the stable behind his team. It was a minute before he came + out. Over his face there was a trembling joy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Can I do anything for you to-day?’ he asked humbly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed you just can,’ said the minister, taking his hand and shaking it + very warmly; and then he told him Slavin’s programme and ours. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sandy is all right till after his race. After that is his time of + danger,’ said the minister. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll stay with him, sir,’ said old Nelson, in the tone of a man taking a + covenant, and immediately set off for the coffee-tent. + </p> + <p> + ‘Here comes another recruit for your corps,’ I said, pointing to Leslie + Graeme, who was coming down the street at that moment in his light sleigh. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am not so sure. Do you think you could get him?’ + </p> + <p> + I laughed. ‘You are a good one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ he replied, half defiantly, ‘is not this your fight too?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You make me think so, though I am bound to say I hardly recognise myself + to day. But here goes,’ and before I knew it I was describing our plans to + Graeme, growing more and more enthusiastic as he sat in his sleigh, + listening with a quizzical smile I didn’t quite like. + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s got you too,’ he said; ‘I feared so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ I laughed, ‘perhaps so. But I want to lick that man Slavin. I’ve + just seen him, and he’s just what Craig calls him, “a slick son of the + devil.” Don’t be shocked; he says it is Scripture.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Revised version,’ said Graeme gravely, while Craig looked a little + abashed. + </p> + <p> + ‘What is assigned me, Mr. Craig? for I know that this man is simply your + agent.’ + </p> + <p> + I repudiated the idea, while Mr. Craig said nothing. + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s my part?’ demanded Graeme. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said Mr. Craig hesitatingly, ‘of course I would do nothing till I + had consulted you; but I want a man to take my place at the sports. I am + referee.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s all right,’ said Graeme, with an air of relief; ‘I expected + something hard.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And then I thought you would not mind presiding at dinner—I want it + to go off well.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you notice that?’ said Graeme to me. ‘Not a bad touch, eh?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s nothing to the way he touched me. Wait and learn,’ I answered, + while Craig looked quite distressed. ‘He’ll do it, Mr. Craig, never fear,’ + I said, ‘and any other little duty that may occur to you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now that’s too bad of you. That is all I want, honour bright,’ he + replied; adding, as he turned away, ‘you are just in time for a cup of + coffee, Mr. Graeme. Now I must see Mrs. Mavor.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Who is Mrs. Mavor?’ I demanded of Graeme. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Mavor? The miners’ guardian angel.’ + </p> + <p> + We put up the horses and set off for coffee. As we approached the booth + Graeme caught sight of the Punch and Judy show, stood still in amazement, + and exclaimed, ‘Can the dead live?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Punch and Judy never die,’ I replied solemnly. + </p> + <p> + ‘But the old manipulator is dead enough, poor old beggar!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But he left his mantle, as you see.’ + </p> + <p> + He looked at me a moment + </p> + <p> + ‘What! do you mean, you—?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, that is exactly what I do mean.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He is great man, that Craig fellow—a truly great man.’ + </p> + <p> + And then he leaned up against a tree and laughed till the tears came. ‘I + say, old boy, don’t mind me,’ he gasped, ‘but do you remember the old + ‘Varsity show?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, you villain; and I remember your part in it. I wonder how you can, + even at this remote date, laugh at it.’ For I had a vivid recollection of + how, after a ‘chaste and highly artistic performance of this mediaeval + play’ had been given before a distinguished Toronto audience, the trap + door by which I had entered my box was fastened, and I was left to swelter + in my cage, and forced to listen to the suffocated laughter from the wings + and the stage whispers of ‘Hello, Mr. Punch, where’s the baby?’ And for + many a day after I was subjected to anxious inquiries as to the locality + and health of ‘the baby,’ and whether it was able to be out. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, the dear old days!’ he kept saying, over and over, in a tone so full + of sadness that my heart grew sore for him and I forgave him, as many a + time before. + </p> + <p> + The sports passed off in typical Western style. In addition to the usual + running and leaping contests, there was rifle and pistol shooting, in both + of which old man Nelson stood first, with Shaw, foreman of the mines, + second. + </p> + <p> + The great event of the day, however, was to be the four-horse race, for + which three teams were entered—one from the mines driven by Nixon, + Craig’s friend, a citizens’ team, and Sandy’s. The race was really between + the miners’ team, and that from the woods, for the citizens’ team, though + made up of speedy horses, had not been driven much together, and knew + neither their driver nor each other. In the miners’ team were four bays, + very powerful, a trifle heavy perhaps, but well matched, perfectly + trained, and perfectly handled by their driver. Sandy had his long rangy + roans, and for leaders a pair of half-broken pinto bronchos. The pintos, + caught the summer before upon the Alberta prairies, were fleet as deer, + but wicked and uncertain. They were Baptiste’s special care and pride. If + they would only run straight there was little doubt that they would carry + the roans and themselves to glory; but one could not tell the moment they + might bolt or kick things to pieces. + </p> + <p> + Being the only non-partisan in the crowd I was asked to referee. The race + was about half a mile and return, the first and last quarters being upon + the ice. The course, after leaving the ice, led up from the river by a + long easy slope to the level above; and at the further end curved somewhat + sharply round the Old Fort. The only condition attaching to the race was + that the teams should start from the scratch, make the turn of the Fort, + and finish at the scratch. There were no vexing regulations as to fouls. + The man making the foul would find it necessary to reckon with the crowd, + which was considered sufficient guarantee for a fair and square race. + Owing to the hazards of the course, the result would depend upon the skill + of the drivers quite as much as upon the speed of the teams. The points of + hazard were at the turn round the Old Fort, and at a little ravine which + led down to the river, over which the road passed by means of a long log + bridge or causeway. + </p> + <p> + From a point upon the high bank of the river the whole course lay in open + view. It was a scene full of life and vividly picturesque. There were + miners in dark clothes and peak caps; citizens in ordinary garb; ranchmen + in wide cowboy hats and buckskin shirts and leggings, some with + cartridge-belts and pistols; a few half-breeds and Indians in half-native, + half-civilised dress; and scattering through the crowd the lumbermen with + gay scarlet and blue blanket coats, and some with knitted tuques of the + same colours. A very good-natured but extremely uncertain crowd it was. At + the head of each horse stood a man, but at the pintos’ heads Baptiste + stood alone, trying to hold down the off leader, thrown into a frenzy of + fear by the yelling of the crowd. + </p> + <p> + Gradually all became quiet, till, in the midst of absolute stillness, came + the words, ‘Are you ready?’, then the pistol-shot and the great race had + begun. Above the roar of the crowd came the shrill cry of Baptiste, as he + struck his broncho with the palm of his hand, and swung himself into the + sleigh beside Sandy, as it shot past. + </p> + <p> + Like a flash the bronchos sprang to the front, two lengths before the + other teams; but, terrified by the yelling of the crowd, instead of + bending to the left bank up which the road wound, they wheeled to the + right and were almost across the river before Sandy could swing them back + into the course. + </p> + <p> + Baptiste’s cries, a curious mixture of French and English, continued to + strike through all other sounds till they gained the top of the slope to + find the others almost a hundred yards in front, the citizens’ team + leading, with the miners’ following close. The moment the pintos caught + sight of the teams before them they set off at a terrific pace and + steadily devoured the intervening space. Nearer and nearer the turn came, + the eight horses in front, running straight and well within their speed. + After them flew the pintos, running savagely with ears set back, leading + well the big roans, thundering along and gaining at every bound. And now + the citizens’ team had almost reached the Fort, running hard, and drawing + away from the bays. But Nixon knew what he was about, and was simply + steadying his team for the turn. The event proved his wisdom, for in the + turn the leading team left the track, lost a moment or two in the deep + snow, and before they could regain the road the bays had swept superbly + past, leaving their rivals to follow in the rear. On came the pintos, + swiftly nearing the Fort. Surely at that pace they cannot make the turn. + But Sandy knows his leaders. They have their eyes upon the teams in front, + and need no touch of rein. Without the slightest change in speed the + nimble-footed bronchos round the turn, hauling the big roans after them, + and fall in behind the citizens’ team, which is regaining steadily the + ground lost in the turn. + </p> + <p> + And now the struggle is for the bridge over the ravine. The bays in front, + running with mouths wide open, are evidently doing their best; behind + them, and every moment nearing them, but at the limit of their speed too, + come the lighter and fleeter citizens’ team; while opposite their driver + are the pintos, pulling hard, eager and fresh. Their temper is too + uncertain to send them to the front; they run well following, but when + leading cannot be trusted, and besides, a broncho hates a bridge; so Sandy + holds them where they are, waiting and hoping for his chance after the + bridge is crossed. Foot by foot the citizens’ team creep up upon the flank + of the bays, with the pintos in turn hugging them closely, till it seems + as if the three, if none slackens, must strike the bridge together; and + this will mean destruction to one at least. This danger Sandy perceives, + but he dare not check his leaders. Suddenly, within a few yards of the + bridge, Baptiste throws himself upon the lines, wrenches them out of + Sandy’s hands, and, with a quick swing, faces the pintos down the steep + side of the ravine, which is almost sheer ice with a thin coat of snow. It + is a daring course to take, for the ravine, though not deep, is full of + undergrowth, and is partially closed up by a brush heap at the further + end. But, with a yell, Baptiste hurls his four horses down the slope, and + into the undergrowth. ‘Allons, mes enfants! Courage! vite, vite!’ cries + their driver, and nobly do the pintos respond. Regardless of bushes and + brush heaps, they tear their way through; but, as they emerge, the hind + bob-sleigh catches a root, and, with a crash, the sleigh is hurled high in + the air. Baptiste’s cries ring out high and shrill as ever, encouraging + his team, and never cease till, with a plunge and a scramble, they clear + the brush heap lying at the mouth of the ravine, and are out on the ice on + the river, with Baptiste standing on the front bob, the box trailing + behind, and Sandy nowhere to be seen. + </p> + <p> + Three hundred yards of the course remain. The bays, perfectly handled, + have gained at the bridge and in the descent to the ice, and are leading + the citizens’ team by half a dozen sleigh lengths. Behind both comes + Baptiste. It is now or never for the pintos. The rattle of the trailing + box, together with the wild yelling of the crowd rushing down the bank, + excites the bronchos to madness, and, taking the bits in their teeth, they + do their first free running that day. Past the citizens’ team like a + whirlwind they dash, clear the intervening space, and gain the flanks of + the bays. Can the bays hold them? Over them leans their driver, plying for + the first time the hissing lash. Only fifty yards more. The miners begin + to yell. But Baptiste, waving his lines high in one hand seizes his tuque + with the other, whirls it about his head and flings it with a fiercer yell + than ever at the bronchos. Like the bursting of a hurricane the pintos + leap forward, and with a splendid rush cross the scratch, winners by their + own length. + </p> + <p> + There was a wild quarter of an hour. The shantymen had torn off their + coats and were waving them wildly and tossing them high, while the + ranchers added to the uproar by emptying their revolvers into the air in a + way that made one nervous. + </p> + <p> + When the crowd was somewhat quieted Sandy’s stiff figure appeared, slowly + making towards them. A dozen lumbermen ran to him, eagerly inquiring if he + were hurt. But Sandy could only curse the little Frenchman for losing the + race. + </p> + <p> + ‘Lost! Why, man, we’ve won it!’ shouted a voice, at which Sandy’s rage + vanished, and he allowed himself to be carried in upon the shoulders of + his admirers. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where’s the lad?’ was his first question. + </p> + <p> + The bronchos are off with him. He’s down at the rapids like enough.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let me go,’ shouted Sandy, setting off at a run in the track of the + sleigh. He had not gone far before he met Baptiste coming back with his + team foaming, the roans going quietly, but the bronchos dancing, and eager + to be at it again. + </p> + <p> + ‘Voila! bully boy! tank the bon Dieu, Sandy; you not keel, heh? Ah! you + are one grand chevalier,’ exclaimed Baptiste, hauling Sandy in and + thrusting the lines into his hands. And so they came back, the sleigh box + still dragging behind, the pintos executing fantastic figures on their + hind legs, and Sandy holding them down. The little Frenchman struck a + dramatic attitude and called out— + </p> + <p> + ‘Voila! What’s the matter wiz Sandy, heh?’ + </p> + <p> + The roar that answered set the bronchos off again plunging and kicking, + and only when Baptiste got them by the heads could they be induced to + stand long enough to allow Sandy to be proclaimed winner of the race. + Several of the lumbermen sprang into the sleigh box with Sandy and + Baptiste, among them Keefe, followed by Nelson, and the first part of the + great day was over. Slavin could not understand the new order of things. + That a great event like the four-horse race should not be followed by + ‘drinks all round’ was to him at once disgusting and incomprehensible; + and, realising his defeat for the moment, he fell into the crowd and + disappeared. But he left behind him his ‘runners.’ He had not yet thrown + up the game. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Craig meantime came to me, and, looking anxiously after Sandy in his + sleigh, with his frantic crowd of yelling admirers, said in a gloomy + voice, ‘Poor Sandy! He is easily caught, and Keefe has the devil’s + cunning.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He won’t touch Slavin’s whisky to-day,’ I answered confidently. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’ll be twenty bottles waiting him in the stable,’ he replied + bitterly, ‘and I can’t go following him up.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He won’t stand that, no man would. God help us all.’ I could hardly + recognise myself, for I found in my heart an earnest echo to that prayer + as I watched him go toward the crowd again, his face set in strong + determination. He looked like the captain of a forlorn hope, and I was + proud to be following him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT—HIS VICTORY + </h3> + <p> + The sports were over, and there remained still an hour to be filled in + before dinner. It was an hour full of danger to Craig’s hopes of victory, + for the men were wild with excitement, and ready for the most reckless + means of ‘slinging their dust.’ I could not but admire the skill with + which Mr. Craig caught their attention. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gentlemen,’ he called out, ‘we’ve forgotten the judge of the great race. + Three cheers for Mr. Connor!’ + </p> + <p> + Two of the shantymen picked me up and hoisted me on their shoulders while + the cheers were given. + </p> + <p> + ‘Announce the Punch and Judy,’ he entreated me, in a low voice. I did so + in a little speech, and was forthwith borne aloft, through the street to + the booth, followed by the whole crowd, cheering like mad. + </p> + <p> + The excitement of the crowd caught me, and for an hour I squeaked and + worked the wires of the immortal and unhappy family in a manner hitherto + unapproached by me at least. I was glad enough when Graeme came to tell me + to send the men in to dinner. This Mr. Punch did in the most gracious + manner, and again with cheers for Punch’s master they trooped tumultuously + into the tent. + </p> + <p> + We had only well begun when Baptiste came in quietly but hurriedly and + whispered to me— + </p> + <p> + ‘M’sieu Craig, he’s gone to Slavin’s, and would lak you and M’sieu Graeme + would follow queek. Sandy he’s take one leel drink up at de stable, and + he’s go mad lak one diable.’ + </p> + <p> + I sent him for Graeme, who was presiding at dinner, and set off for + Slavin’s at a run. There I found Mr. Craig and Nelson holding Sandy, more + than half drunk, back from Slavin, who, stripped to the shirt, was coolly + waiting with a taunting smile. + </p> + <p> + ‘Let me go, Mr. Craig,’ Sandy was saying, ‘I am a good Presbyterian. He is + a Papist thief; and he has my money; and I will have it out of the soul of + him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let him go, preacher,’ sneered Slavin, ‘I’ll cool him off for yez. But + ye’d better hold him if yez wants his mug left on to him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let him go!’ Keefe was shouting. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hands off!’ Blaney was echoing. + </p> + <p> + I pushed my way in. ‘What’s up?’ I cried. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr. Connor,’ said Sandy solemnly, ‘it is a gentleman you are, though your + name is against you, and I am a good Presbyterian, and I can give you the + Commandments and Reasons annexed to them; but yon’s a thief, a Papist + thief, and I am justified in getting my money out of his soul.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But,’ I remonstrated, ‘you won’t get it in this way.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He has my money,’ reiterated Sandy. + </p> + <p> + ‘He is a blank liar, and he’s afraid to take it up,’ said Slavin, in a + low, cool tone. + </p> + <p> + With a roar Sandy broke away and rushed at him; but, without moving from + his tracks, Slavin met him with a straight left-hander and laid him flat. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hooray,’ yelled Blaney, ‘Ireland for ever!’ and, seizing the iron poker, + swung it around his head, crying, ‘Back, or, by the holy Moses, I’ll kill + the first man that interferes wid the game.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Give it to him!’ Keefe said savagely. + </p> + <p> + Sandy rose slowly, gazing round stupidly. + </p> + <p> + ‘He don’t know what hit him,’ laughed Keefe. + </p> + <p> + This roused the Highlander, and saying, ‘I’ll settle you afterwards, + Mister Keefe,’ he rushed in again at Slavin. Again Slavin met him again + with his left, staggered him, and, before he fell, took a step forward and + delivered a terrific right-hand blow on his jaw. Poor Sandy went down in a + heap amid the yells of Blaney, Keefe, and some others of the gang. I was + in despair when in came Baptiste and Graeme. + </p> + <p> + One look at Sandy, and Baptiste tore off his coat and cap, slammed them on + the floor, danced on them, and with a long-drawn ‘sap-r-r-r-rie,’ rushed + at Slavin. But Graeme caught him by the back of the neck, saying, ‘Hold + on, little man,’ and turning to Slavin, pointed to Sandy, who was reviving + under Nelson’s care, and said, ‘What’s this for?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ask him,’ said Slavin insolently. ‘He knows.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What is it, Nelson?’ + </p> + <p> + Nelson explained that Sandy, after drinking some at the stable and a glass + at the Black Rock Hotel, had come down here with Keefe and the others, had + lost his money, and was accusing Slavin of robbing him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you furnish him with liquor?’ said Graeme sternly. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is none of your business,’ replied Slavin, with an oath. + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall make it my business. It is not the first time my men have lost + money in this saloon.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You lie,’ said Slavin, with deliberate emphasis. + </p> + <p> + ‘Slavin,’ said Graeme quietly, ‘it’s a pity you said that, because, unless + you apologise in one minute, I shall make you sorry.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Apologise?’ roared Slavin, ‘apologise to you?’ calling him a vile name. + </p> + <p> + Graeme grew white, and said even more slowly, ‘Now you’ll have to take it; + no apology will do.’ + </p> + <p> + He slowly stripped off coat and vest. Mr. Craig interposed, begging Graeme + to let the matter pass. ‘Surely he is not worth it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr. Craig,’ said Graeme, with an easy smile, ‘you don’t understand. No + man can call me that name and walk around afterwards feeling well.’ + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to Slavin, he said, ‘Now, if you want a minute’s rest, I can + wait.’ + </p> + <p> + Slavin, with a curse, bade him come. + </p> + <p> + ‘Blaney,’ said Graeme sharply, ‘you get back.’ Blaney promptly stepped + back to Keefe’s side. ‘Nelson, you and Baptiste can see that they stay + there.’ The old man nodded and looked at Craig, who simply said, ‘Do the + best you can.’ + </p> + <p> + It was a good fight. Slavin had plenty of pluck, and for a time forced the + fighting, Graeme guarding easily and tapping him aggravatingly about the + nose and eyes, drawing blood, but not disabling him. Gradually there came + a look of fear into Slavin’s eyes, and the beads stood upon his face. He + had met his master. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Slavin, you’re beginning to be sorry; and now I am going to show you + what you are made of.’ Graeme made one or two lightning passes, struck + Slavin one, two, three terrific blows, and laid him quite flat and + senseless. Keefe and Blaney both sprang forward, but there was a savage + kind of growl. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hold, there!’ It was old man Nelson looking along a pistol barrel. ‘You + know me, Keefe,’ he said. ‘You won’t do any murder this time.’ + </p> + <p> + Keefe turned green and yellow, and staggered back, while Slavin slowly + rose to his feet. + </p> + <p> + ‘Will you take some more?’ said Graeme. ‘You haven’t got much; but mind I + have stopped playing with you. Put up your gun, Nelson. No one will + interfere now.’ + </p> + <p> + Slavin hesitated, then rushed, but Graeme stepped to meet him, and we saw + Slavin’s heels in the air as he fell back upon his neck and shoulders and + lay still, with his toes quivering. + </p> + <p> + ‘Bon!’ yelled Baptiste. ‘Bully boy! Dat’s de bon stuff. Dat’s larn him one + good lesson.’ But immediately he shrieked, Gar-r-r-r-e a vous!’ + </p> + <p> + He was too late, for there was a crash of breaking glass, and Graeme fell + to the floor with a long deep cut on the side of his head. Keefe had + hurled a bottle with all too sure an aim, and had fled. I thought he was + dead; but we carried him out, and in a few minutes he groaned, opened his + eyes, and sank again into insensibility. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where can we take him?’ I cried. + </p> + <p> + ‘To my shack,’ said Mr. Craig. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is there no place nearer?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes; Mrs. Mavor’s. I shall run on to tell her.’ + </p> + <p> + She met us at the door. I had in mind to say some words of apology, but + when I looked upon her face I forgot my words, forgot my business at her + door, and stood simply looking. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come in! Bring him in! Please do not wait,’ she said, and her voice was + sweet and soft and firm. + </p> + <p> + We laid him in a large room at the back of the shop over which Mrs. Mavor + lived. Together we dressed the wound, her firm white fingers, skilful as + if with long training. Before the dressing was finished I sent Craig off, + for the time had come for the Magic Lantern in the church, and I knew how + critical the moment was in our fight. ‘Go,’ I said; ‘he is coming to, and + we do not need you.’ + </p> + <p> + In a few moments more Graeme revived, and, gazing about, asked, ‘What’s, + all this about?’ and then, recollecting, ‘Ah! that brute Keefe’; then + seeing my anxious face he said carelessly, ‘Awful bore, ain’t it? Sorry to + trouble you, old fellow.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You be hanged!’ I said shortly; for his old sweet smile was playing about + his lips, and was almost too much for me. ‘Mrs. Mavor and I are in + command, and you must keep perfectly still.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Mavor?’ he said, in surprise. She came forward, with a slight flush + on her face. + </p> + <p> + ‘I think you know me, Mr. Graeme.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have often seen you, and wished to know you. I am sorry to bring you + this trouble.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You must not say so,’ she replied, ‘but let me do all for you that I can. + And now the doctor says you are to lie still.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The doctor? Oh! you mean Connor. He is hardly there yet. You don’t know + each other. Permit me to present Mr. Connor, Mrs. Mavor.’ + </p> + <p> + As she bowed slightly, her eyes looked into mine with serious gaze, not + inquiring, yet searching my soul. As I looked into her eyes I forgot + everything about me, and when I recalled myself it seemed as if I had been + away in some far place. It was not their colour or their brightness; I do + not yet know their colour, and I have often looked into them; and they + were not bright; but they were clear, and one could look far down into + them, and in their depths see a glowing, steady light. As I went to get + some drugs from the Black Rock doctor, I found myself wondering about that + far-down light; and about her voice, how it could get that sound from far + away. + </p> + <p> + I found the doctor quite drunk, as indeed Mr. Craig had warned; but his + drugs were good, and I got what I wanted and quickly returned. + </p> + <p> + While Graeme slept Mrs. Mavor made me tea. As the evening wore on I told + her the events of the day, dwelling admiringly upon Craig’s generalship. + She smiled at this. + </p> + <p> + ‘He got me too,’ she said. ‘Nixon was sent to me just before the sports; + and I don’t think he will break down to-day, and I am so thankful.’ And + her eyes glowed. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am quite sure he won’t,’ I thought to myself, but I said no word. + </p> + <p> + After a long pause, she went on, ‘I have promised Mr. Craig to sing + to-night, if I am needed!’ and then, after a moment’s hesitation, ‘It is + two years since I have been able to sing—two years,’ she repeated, + ‘since’—and then her brave voice trembled—‘my husband was + killed.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I quite understand,’ I said, having no other word on my tongue + </p> + <p> + ‘And,’ she went on quietly, ‘I fear I have been selfish. It is hard to + sing the same songs. We were very happy. But the miners like to hear me + sing, and I think perhaps it helps them to feel less lonely, and keeps + them from evil. I shall try to-night, if I am needed. Mr. Craig will not + ask me unless he must.’ + </p> + <p> + I would have seen every miner and lumberman in the place hideously drunk + before I would have asked her to sing one song while her heart ached. I + wondered at Craig, and said, rather angrily— + </p> + <p> + ‘He thinks only of those wretched miners and shantymen of his.’ + </p> + <p> + She looked at me with wonder in her eyes, and said gently, ‘And are they + not Christ’s too?’ + </p> + <p> + And I found no word to reply. + </p> + <p> + It was nearing ten o’clock, and I was wondering how the fight was going, + and hoping that Mrs. Mavor would not be needed, when the door opened, and + old man Nelson and Sandy, the latter much battered and ashamed, came in + with the word for Mrs. Mavor. + </p> + <p> + ‘I will come,’ she said simply. She saw me preparing to accompany her, and + asked, ‘Do you think you can leave him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He will do quite well in Nelson’s care.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then I am glad; for I must take my little one with me. I did not put her + to bed in case I should need to go, and I may not leave her.’ + </p> + <p> + We entered the church by the back door, and saw at once that even yet the + battle might easily be lost. + </p> + <p> + Some miners had just come from Slavin’s, evidently bent on breaking up the + meeting, in revenge for the collapse of the dance, which Slavin was unable + to enjoy, much less direct. Craig was gallantly holding his ground, + finding it hard work to keep his men in good humour, and so prevent a + fight, for there were cries of ‘Put him out! Put the beast out!’ at a + miner half drunk and wholly outrageous. + </p> + <p> + The look of relief that came over his face when Craig caught sight of us + told how anxious he had been, and reconciled me to Mrs. Mavor’s singing. + ‘Thank the good God,’ he said, with what came near being a sob, ‘I was + about to despair.’ + </p> + <p> + He immediately walked to the front and called out— + </p> + <p> + ‘Gentlemen, if you wish it, Mrs. Mavor will sing.’ + </p> + <p> + There was a dead silence. Some one began to applaud, but a miner said + savagely, ‘Stop that, you fool!’ + </p> + <p> + There was a few moments’ delay, when from the crowd a voice called out, + ‘Does Mrs. Mavor wish to sing?’ followed by cries of ‘Ay, that’s it.’ Then + Shaw, the foreman at the mines, stood up in the audience and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Mr. Craig and gentlemen, you know that three years ago I was known as + “Old Ricketts,” and that I owe all I am to-night, under God, to Mrs. + Mavor, and’—with a little quiver in his voice—‘her baby. And + we all know that for two years she has not sung; and we all know why. And + what I say is, that if she does not feel like singing to-night, she is not + going to sing to keep any drunken brute of Slavin’s crowd quiet.’ + </p> + <p> + There were deep growls of approval all over the church. I could have + hugged Shaw then and there. Mr. Craig went to Mrs. Mavor, and after a word + with her came back and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Mavor, wishes me to thank her dear friend Mr. Shaw, but says she + would like to sing.’ + </p> + <p> + The response was perfect stillness. Mr. Craig sat down to the organ and + played the opening bars of the touching melody, ‘Oft in the Stilly Night.’ + Mrs. Mavor came to the front, and, with a smile of exquisite sweetness + upon her sad face, and looking straight at us with her glorious eyes, + began to sing. + </p> + <p> + Her voice, a rich soprano, even and true, rose and fell, now soft, now + strong, but always filling the building, pouring around us floods of + music. I had heard Patti’s ‘Home, sweet Home,’ and of all singing that + alone affected me as did this. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the first verse the few women in the church and some men + were weeping quietly; but when she began the words— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘When I remember all + The friends once linked together,’ +</pre> + <p> + sobs came on every side from these tender-hearted fellows, and Shaw quite + lost his grip. But she sang steadily on, the tone clearer and sweeter and + fuller at every note, and when the sound of her voice died away, she stood + looking at the men as if in wonder that they should weep. No one moved. + Mr. Craig played softly on, and, wandering through many variations, + arrived at last at + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Jesus, lover of my soul.’ +</pre> + <p> + As she sang the appealing words, her face was lifted up, and she saw none + of us; but she must have seen some one, for the cry in her voice could + only come from one who could see and feel help close at hand. On and on + went the glorious voice, searching my soul’s depths; but when she came to + the words— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Thou, O Christ, art all I want,’ +</pre> + <p> + she stretched up her arms—she had quite forgotten us, her voice had + borne her to other worlds—and sang with such a passion of ‘abandon’ + that my soul was ready to surrender anything, everything. + </p> + <p> + Again Mr. Craig wandered on through his changing chords till again he came + to familiar ground, and the voice began, in low, thrilling tones, + Bernard’s great song of home— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Jerusalem the golden.’ +</pre> + <p> + Every word, with all its weight of meaning, came winging to our souls, + till we found ourselves gazing afar into those stately halls of Zion, with + their daylight serene and their jubilant throngs. When the singer came to + the last verse there was a pause. Again Mr. Craig softly played the + interlude, but still there was no voice. I looked up. She was very white, + and her eyes were glowing with their deep light. Mr. Craig looked quickly + about, saw her, stopped, and half rose, as if to go to her, when, in a + voice that seemed to come from a far-off land, she went on— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘O sweet and blessed country!’ +</pre> + <p> + The longing, the yearning, in the second ‘O’ were indescribable. Again and + again, as she held that word, and then dropped down with the cadence in + the music, my heart ached for I knew not what. + </p> + <p> + The audience were sitting as in a trance. The grimy faces of the miners, + for they never get quite white, were furrowed with the tear-courses. Shaw, + by this time, had his face too lifted high, his eyes gazing far above the + singer’s head, and I knew by the rapture in his face that he was seeing, + as she saw, the thronging stately halls and the white-robed conquerors. He + had felt, and was still feeling, all the stress of the fight, and to him + the vision of the conquerors in their glory was soul-drawing and + soul-stirring. And Nixon, too—he had his vision; but what he saw was + the face of the singer, with the shining eyes, and, by the look of him, + that was vision enough. + </p> + <p> + Immediately after her last note Mrs. Mavor stretched out her hands to her + little girl, who was sitting on my knee, caught her up, and, holding her + close to her breast, walked quickly behind the curtain. Not a sound + followed the singing: no one moved till she had disappeared; and then Mr. + Craig came to the front, and, motioning to me to follow Mrs. Mavor, began + in a low, distinct voice— + </p> + <p> + ‘Gentlemen, it was not easy for Mrs. Mavor to sing for us, and you know + she sang because she is a miner’s wife, and her heart is with the miners. + But she sang, too, because her heart is His who came to earth this day so + many years ago to save us all; and she would make you love Him too. For in + loving Him you are saved from all base loves, and you know what I mean. + </p> + <p> + ‘And before we say good-night, men, I want to know if the time is not come + when all of you who mean to be better than you are should join in putting + from us this thing that has brought sorrow and shame to us and to those we + love? You know what I mean. Some of you are strong; will you stand by and + see weaker men robbed of the money they save for those far away, and + robbed of the manhood that no money can buy or restore? + </p> + <p> + ‘Will the strong men help? Shall we all join hands in this? What do you + say? In this town we have often seen hell, and just a moment ago we were + all looking into heaven, “the sweet and blessed country.” O men!’ and his + voice rang in an agony through the building—‘O men! which shall be + ours? For Heaven’s dear sake, let us help one another! Who will?’ + </p> + <p> + I was looking out through a slit in the curtain. The men, already wrought + to intense feeling by the music, were listening with set faces and + gleaming eyes, and as at the appeal ‘Who will?’ Craig raised high his + hand, Shaw, Nixon, and a hundred men sprang to their feet and held high + their hands. + </p> + <p> + I have witnessed some thrilling scenes in my life, but never anything to + equal that: the one man on the platform standing at full height, with his + hand thrown up to heaven, and the hundred men below standing straight, + with arms up at full length, silent, and almost motionless. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Craig held them so; and again his voice rang out, louder, + sterner than before— + </p> + <p> + ‘All who mean it, say, “By God’s help I will.”’ And back from a hundred + throats came deep and strong the words, ‘By God’s help, I will.’ + </p> + <p> + At this point Mrs. Mavor, whom I had quite forgotten, put her hand on my + arm. ‘Go and tell him,’ she panted, ‘I want them to come on Thursday + night, as they used to in the other days—go—quick,’ and she + almost pushed me out. I gave Craig her message. He held up his hand for + silence. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Mavor wishes me to say that she will be glad to see you all, as in + the old days, on Thursday evening; and I can think of no better place to + give formal expression to our pledge of this night’ + </p> + <p> + There was a shout of acceptance; and then, at some one’s call, the long + pent-up feelings of the crowd found vent in three mighty cheers for Mrs. + Mavor. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now for our old hymn,’ called out Mr. Craig, ‘and Mrs. Mavor will lead + us.’ + </p> + <p> + He sat down at the organ, played a few bars of ‘The Sweet By and By,’ and + then Mrs. Mavor began. But not a soul joined till the refrain was reached, + and then they sang as only men with their hearts on fire can sing. But + after the last refrain Mr. Craig made a sign to Mrs. Mavor, and she sang + alone, slowly and softly, and with eyes looking far away— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘In the sweet by and by, + We shall meet on that beautiful shore.’ +</pre> + <p> + There was no benediction—there seemed no need; and the men went + quietly out. But over and over again the voice kept singing in my ears and + in my heart, ‘We shall meet on that beautiful shore.’ And after the + sleigh-loads of men had gone and left the street empty, as I stood with + Craig in the radiant moonlight that made the great mountains about come + near us, from Sandy’s sleigh we heard in the distance Baptiste’s + French-English song; but the song that floated down with the sound of the + bells from the miners’ sleigh was— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘We shall meet on that beautiful shore.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘Poor old Shaw!’ said Craig softly. + </p> + <p> + When the last sound had died away I turned to him and said— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘You have won your fight.’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘We have won our fight; I was beaten,’ he replied quickly, offering me his + hand. Then, taking off his cap, and looking up beyond the mountain-tops + and the silent stars, he added softly, ‘Our fight, but His victory.’ + </p> + <p> + And, thinking it all over, I could not say but perhaps he was right. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + MRS. MAVOR’S STORY + </h3> + <p> + The days that followed the Black Rock Christmas were anxious days and + weary, but not for the brightest of my life would I change them now; for, + as after the burning heat or rocking storm the dying day lies beautiful in + the tender glow of the evening, so these days have lost their weariness + and lie bathed in a misty glory. The years that bring us many ills, and + that pass so stormfully over us, bear away with them the ugliness, the + weariness, the pain that are theirs, but the beauty, the sweetness, the + rest they leave untouched, for these are eternal. As the mountains, that + near at hand stand jagged and scarred, in the far distance repose in their + soft robes of purple haze, so the rough present fades into the past, soft + and sweet and beautiful. + </p> + <p> + I have set myself to recall the pain and anxiety of those days and nights + when we waited in fear for the turn of the fever, but I can only think of + the patience and gentleness and courage of her who stood beside me, + bearing more than half my burden. And while I can see the face of Leslie + Graeme, ghastly or flushed, and hear his low moaning or the broken words + of his delirium, I think chiefly of the bright face bending over him, and + of the cool, firm, swift-moving hands that soothed and smoothed and + rested, and the voice, like the soft song of a bird in the twilight, that + never failed to bring peace. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mavor and I were much together during those days. I made my home in + Mr. Craig’s shack, but most of my time was spent beside my friend. We did + not see much of Craig, for he was heart-deep with the miners, laying plans + for the making of the League the following Thursday; and though he shared + our anxiety and was ever ready to relieve us, his thought and his talk had + mostly to do with the League. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mavor’s evenings were given to the miners, but her afternoons mostly + to Graeme and to me, and then it was I saw another side of her character. + We would sit in her little dining-room, where the pictures on the walls, + the quaint old silver, and bits of curiously cut glass, all spoke of other + and different days, and thence we would roam the world of literature and + art. Keenly sensitive to all the good and beautiful in these, she had her + favourites among the masters, for whom she was ready to do battle; and + when her argument, instinct with fancy and vivid imagination, failed, she + swept away all opposing opinion with the swift rush of her enthusiasm; so + that, though I felt she was beaten, I was left without words to reply. + Shakespeare and Tennyson and Burns she loved, but not Shelley, nor Byron, + nor even Wordsworth. Browning she knew not, and therefore could not rank + him with her noblest three; but when I read to her ‘A Death in the + Desert,’ and, came to the noble words at the end of the tale— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘For all was as I say, and now the man + Lies as he once lay, breast to breast with God,’ +</pre> + <p> + the light shone in her eyes, and she said, ‘Oh, that is good and great; I + shall get much out of him; I had always feared he was impossible.’ And + ‘Paracelsus,’ too, stirred her; but when I recited the thrilling fragment, + ‘Prospice,’ on to that closing rapturous cry— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Then a light, then thy breast, + O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, + And with God be the rest!’— +</pre> + <p> + the red colour faded from her cheek, her breath came in a sob, and she + rose quickly and passed out without a word. Ever after, Browning was among + her gods. But when we talked of music, she, adoring Wagner, soared upon + the wings of the mighty Tannhauser, far above, into regions unknown, + leaving me to walk soberly with Beethoven and Mendelssohn. Yet with all + our free, frank talk, there was all the while that in her gentle courtesy + which kept me from venturing into any chamber of her life whose door she + did not set freely open to me. So I vexed myself about her, and when Mr. + Craig returned the next week from the Landing where he had been for some + days, my first question was— + </p> + <p> + ‘Who is Mrs. Mavor? And how in the name of all that is wonderful and + unlikely does she come to be here? And why does she stay?’ + </p> + <p> + He would not answer then; whether it was that his mind was full of the + coming struggle, or whether he shrank from the tale, I know not; but that + night, when we sat together beside his fire, he told me the story, while I + smoked. He was worn with his long, hard drive, and with the burden of his + work, but as he went on with his tale, looking into the fire as he told + it, he forgot all his present weariness and lived again the scenes he + painted for me. This was his story:— + </p> + <p> + ‘I remember well my first sight of her, as she sprang from the front seat + of the stage to the ground, hardly touching her husband’s hand. She looked + a mere girl. Let’s see—five years ago—she couldn’t have been a + day over twenty three. She looked barely twenty. Her swift glance swept + over the group of miners at the hotel door, and then rested on the + mountains standing in all their autumn glory. + </p> + <p> + ‘I was proud of our mountains that evening. Turning to her husband, she + exclaimed: “O Lewis, are they not grand? and lovely, too?” Every miner + lost his heart then and there, but all waited for Abe the driver to give + his verdict before venturing an opinion. Abe said nothing until he had + taken a preliminary drink, and then, calling all hands to fill up, he + lifted his glass high, and said solemnly— + </p> + <p> + ‘“Boys, here’s to her.” + </p> + <p> + ‘Like a flash every glass was emptied, and Abe called out, “Fill her up + again, boys! My treat!” + </p> + <p> + ‘He was evidently quite worked up. Then he began, with solemn emphasis— + </p> + <p> + ‘“Boys, you hear me! She’s a No. 1, triple X, the pure quill with a bead + on it: she’s a—,” and for the first time in his Black Rock history + Abe was stuck for a word. Some one suggested “angel.” + </p> + <p> + ‘“Angel!” repeated Abe, with infinite contempt. “Angel be blowed,” (I + paraphrase here); “angels ain’t in the same month with her; I’d like to + see any blanked angel swing my team around them curves without a shiver.” + </p> + <p> + ‘“Held the lines herself, Abe?” asked a miner. + </p> + <p> + ‘“That’s what,” said Abe; and then he went off into a fusilade of + scientific profanity, expressive of his esteem for the girl who had swung + his team round the curves; and the miners nodded to each other, and winked + their entire approval of Abe’s performance, for this was his specialty. + </p> + <p> + ‘Very decent fellow, Abe, but his talk wouldn’t print.’ + </p> + <p> + Here Craig paused, as if balancing Abe’s virtues and vices. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ I urged, ‘who is she?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes,’ he said, recalling himself; ‘she is an Edinburgh young lady—met + Lewis Mayor, a young Scotch-English man, in London—wealthy, good + family, and all that, but fast, and going to pieces at home. His people, + who own large shares in these mines here, as a last resort sent him out + here to reform. Curiously innocent ideas those old country people have of + the reforming properties of this atmosphere! They send their young bloods + here to reform. Here! in this devil’s camp-ground, where a man’s lust is + his only law, and when, from sheer monotony, a man must betake himself to + the only excitement of the place—that offered by the saloon. Good + people in the east hold up holy hands of horror at these godless miners; + but I tell you it’s asking these boys a good deal to keep straight and + clean in a place like this. I take my excitement in fighting the devil and + doing my work generally, and that gives me enough; but these poor chaps—hard + worked, homeless, with no break or change—God help them and me!’ and + his voice sank low. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ I persisted, ‘did Mavor reform?’ + </p> + <p> + Again he roused himself. ‘Reform? Not exactly. In six-months he had broken + through all restraint; and, mind you, not the miners’ fault—not a + miner helped him down. It was a sight to make angels weep when Mrs. Mavor + would come to the saloon door for her husband. Every miner would vanish; + they could not look upon her shame, and they would send Mavor forth in the + charge of Billy Breen, a queer little chap, who had belonged to the Mavors + in some way in the old country, and between them they would get him home. + How she stood it puzzles me to this day; but she never made any sign, and + her courage never failed. It was always a bright, brave, proud face she + held up to the world—except in church; there it was different. I + used to preach my sermons, I believe, mostly for her—but never so + that she could suspect—as bravely and as cheerily as I could. And as + she listened, and especially as she sang—how she used to sing in + those days!—there was no touch of pride in her face, though the + courage never died out, but appeal, appeal! I could have cursed aloud the + cause of her misery, or wept for the pity of it. Before her baby was born + he seemed to pull himself together, for he was quite mad about her, and + from the day the baby came—talk about miracles!—from that day + he never drank a drop. She gave the baby over to him, and the baby simply + absorbed him. + </p> + <p> + ‘He was a new man. He could not drink whisky and kiss his baby. And the + miners—it was really absurd if it were not so pathetic. It was the + first baby in Black Rock, and they used to crowd Mavor’s shop and peep + into the room at the back of it—I forgot to tell you that when he + lost his position as manager he opened a hardware shop, for his people + chucked him, and he was too proud to write home for money—just for a + chance to be asked in to see the baby. I came upon Nixon standing at the + back of the shop after he had seen the baby for the first time, sobbing + hard, and to my question he replied: “It’s just like my own.” You can’t + understand this. But to men who have lived so long in the mountains that + they have forgotten what a baby looks like, who have had experience of + humanity only in its roughest, foulest form, this little mite, sweet and + clean, was like an angel fresh from heaven, the one link in all that black + camp that bound them to what was purest and best in their past. + </p> + <p> + ‘And to see the mother and her baby handle the miners! + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, it was all beautiful beyond words! I shall never forget the shock I + got one night when I found “Old Ricketts” nursing the baby. A drunken old + beast he was; but there he was sitting, sober enough, making extraordinary + faces at the baby, who was grabbing at his nose and whiskers and cooing in + blissful delight. Poor “Old Ricketts” looked as if he had been caught + stealing, and muttering something about having to go, gazed wildly round + for some place in which to lay the baby, when in came the mother, saying + in her own sweet, frank way: “O Mr. Ricketts” (she didn’t find out till + afterwards his name was Shaw), “would you mind keeping her just a little + longer?—I shall be back in a few minutes.” And “Old Ricketts” + guessed he could wait. + </p> + <p> + ‘But in six months mother and baby, between them, transformed “Old + Ricketts” into Mr. Shaw, fire-boss of the mines. And then in the evenings, + when she would be singing her baby to sleep, the little shop would be full + of miners, listening in dead silence to the baby-songs, and the English + songs, and the Scotch songs she poured forth without stint, for she sang + more for them than for her baby. No wonder they adored her. She was so + bright, so gay, she brought light with her when she went into the camp, + into the pits—for she went down to see the men work—or into a + sick miner’s shack; and many a man, lonely and sick for home or wife, or + baby or mother, found in that back room cheer and comfort and courage, and + to many a poor broken wretch that room became, as one miner put it, “the + anteroom to heaven.”’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. Craig paused, and I waited. Then he went on slowly— + </p> + <p> + ‘For a year and a half that was the happiest home in all the world, till + one day—’ + </p> + <p> + He put his face in his hands, and shuddered. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t think I can ever forget the awful horror of that bright fall + afternoon, when “Old Ricketts” came breathless to me and gasped, “Come! + for the dear Lord’s sake,” and I rushed after him. At the mouth of the + shaft lay three men dead. One was Lewis Mavor. He had gone down to + superintend the running of a new drift; the two men, half drunk with + Slavin’s whisky, set off a shot prematurely, to their own and Mavor’s + destruction. They were badly burned, but his face was untouched. A miner + was sponging off the bloody froth oozing from his lips. The others were + standing about waiting for me to speak. But I could find no word, for my + heart was sick, thinking, as they were, of the young mother and her baby + waiting at home. So I stood, looking stupidly from one to the other, + trying to find some reason—coward that I was—why another + should bear the news rather than I. And while we stood there, looking at + one another in fear, there broke upon us the sound of a voice mounting + high above the birch tops, singing— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Will ye no’ come back again? + Will ye no’ come back again? + Better lo’ed ye canna be, + Will ye no’ come back again?” + </pre> + <p> + ‘A strange terror seized us. Instinctively the men closed up in front of + the body, and stood in silence. Nearer and nearer came the clear, sweet + voice, ringing like a silver bell up the steep— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Sweet the lav’rock’s note and lang, + Liltin’ wildly up the glen, + But aye tae me he sings ae sang, + Will ye no’ come back again?” + </pre> + <p> + ‘Before the verse was finished “Old Ricketts” had dropped on his knees, + sobbing out brokenly, “O God! O God! have pity, have pity, have pity!”—and + every man took off his hat. And still the voice came nearer, singing so + brightly the refrain, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘“Will ye no’ come back again?’ +</pre> + <p> + ‘It became unbearable. “Old Ricketts” sprang suddenly to his feet, and, + gripping me by the arm, said piteously, “Oh, go to her! for Heaven’s sake, + go to her!” I next remember standing in her path and seeing her holding + out her hands full of red lilies, crying out, “Are they not lovely? Lewis + is so fond of them!” With the promise of much finer ones I turned her down + a path toward the river, talking I know not what folly, till her great + eyes grew grave, then anxious, and my tongue stammered and became silent. + Then, laying her hand upon my arm, she said with gentle sweetness, “Tell + me your trouble, Mr. Craig,” and I knew my agony had come, and I burst + out, “Oh, if it were only mine!” She turned quite white, and with her deep + eyes—you’ve noticed her eyes—drawing the truth out of mine, + she said, “Is it mine, Mr. Craig, and my baby’s?” I waited, thinking with + what words to begin. She put one hand to her heart, and with the other + caught a little poplar-tree that shivered under her grasp, and said with + white lips, but even more gently, “Tell me.” I wondered at my voice being + so steady as I said, “Mrs. Mavor, God will help you and your baby. There + has been an accident—and it is all over.” + </p> + <p> + ‘She was a miner’s wife, and there was no need for more. I could see the + pattern of the sunlight falling through the trees upon the grass. I could + hear the murmur of the river, and the cry of the cat-bird in the bushes, + but we seemed to be in a strange and unreal world. Suddenly she stretched + out her hands to me, and with a little moan said, “Take me to him.” + </p> + <p> + ‘“Sit down for a moment or two,” I entreated. + </p> + <p> + ‘“No, no! I am quite ready. See,” she added quietly, “I am quite strong.” + </p> + <p> + ‘I set off by a short cut leading to her home, hoping the men would be + there before us; but, passing me, she walked swiftly through the trees, + and I followed in fear. As we came near the main path I heard the sound of + feet, and I tried to stop her, but she, too, had heard and knew. “Oh, let + me go!” she said piteously; “you need not fear.” And I had not the heart + to stop her. In a little opening among the pines we met the bearers. When + the men saw her, they laid their burden gently down upon the carpet of + yellow pine-needles, and then, for they had the hearts of true men in + them, they went away into the bushes and left her alone with her dead. She + went swiftly to his side, making no cry, but kneeling beside him she + stroked his face and hands, and touched his curls with her fingers, + murmuring all the time soft words of love. “O my darling, my bonnie, + bonnie darling, speak to me! Will ye not speak to me just one little word? + O my love, my love, my heart’s love! Listen, my darling!” And she put her + lips to his ear, whispering, and then the awful stillness. Suddenly she + lifted her head and scanned his face, and then, glancing round with a wild + surprise in her eyes, she cried, “He will not speak to me! Oh, he will not + speak to me!” I signed to the men, and as they came forward I went to her + and took her hands. + </p> + <p> + ‘“Oh,” she said with a wail in her voice; “he will not speak to me.” The + men were sobbing aloud. She looked at them with wide-open eyes of wonder. + “Why are they weeping? Will he never speak to me again? Tell me,” she + insisted gently. The words were running through my head— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘“There’s a land that is fairer than day,” + </pre> + <p> + and I said them over to her, holding her hands firmly in mine. She gazed + at me as if in a dream, and the light slowly faded from her eyes as she + said, tearing her hands from mine and waving them towards the mountains + and the woods— + </p> + <p> + ‘“But never more here? Never more here?” + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe in heaven and the other life, but I confess that for a moment + it all seemed shadowy beside the reality of this warm, bright world, full + of life and love. She was very ill for two nights, and when the coffin was + closed a new baby lay in the father’s arms. + </p> + <p> + ‘She slowly came back to life, but there were no more songs. The miners + still come about her shop, and talk to her baby, and bring her their + sorrows and troubles; but though she is always gentle, almost tender, with + them, no man ever says “Sing.” And that is why I am glad she sang last + week; it will be good for her and good for them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why does she stay?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Mavor’s people wanted her to go to them,’ he replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘They have money—she told me about it, but her heart is in the grave + up there under the pines; and besides, she hopes to do something for the + miners, and she will not leave them.’ + </p> + <p> + I am afraid I snorted a little impatiently as I said, ‘Nonsense! why, with + her face, and manner, and voice she could be anything she liked in + Edinburgh or in London.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And why Edinburgh or London?’ he asked coolly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why?’ I repeated a little hotly. ‘You think this is better?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nazareth was good enough for the Lord of glory,’ he answered, with a + smile none too bright; but it drew my heart to him, and my heat was gone. + </p> + <p> + ‘How long will she stay?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Till her work is done,’ he replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘And when will that be?’ I asked impatiently. + </p> + <p> + ‘When God chooses,’ he answered gravely; ‘and don’t you ever think but + that it is worth while. One value of work is not that crowds stare at it. + Read history, man!’ + </p> + <p> + He rose abruptly and began to walk about. ‘And don’t miss the whole + meaning of the Life that lies at the foundation of your religion. Yes,’ he + added to himself, ‘the work is worth doing—worth even her doing.’ + </p> + <p> + I could not think so then, but the light of the after years proved him + wiser than I. A man, to see far, must climb to some height, and I was too + much upon the plain in those days to catch even a glimpse of distant + sunlit uplands of triumphant achievement that lie beyond the valley of + self-sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE + </h3> + <p> + Thursday morning found Craig anxious, even gloomy, but with fight in every + line of his face. I tried to cheer him in my clumsy way by chaffing him + about his League. But he did not blaze up as he often did. It was a thing + too near his heart for that. He only shrank a little from my stupid chaff + and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t, old chap; this is a good deal to me. I’ve tried for two years to + get this, and if it falls through now, I shall find it hard to bear.’ + </p> + <p> + Then I repented my light words and said, ‘Why! the thing will go sure + enough: after that scene in the church they won’t go back.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor fellows!’ he said as if to himself; ‘whisky is about the only + excitement they have, and they find it pretty tough to give it up; and a + lot of the men are against the total abstinence idea. It seems rot to + them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is pretty steep,’ I said. ‘Can’t you do without it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No; I fear not. There is nothing else for it. Some of them talk of + compromise. They want to quit the saloon and drink quietly in their + shacks. The moderate drinker may have his place in other countries, though + I can’t see it. I haven’t thought that out, but here the only safe man is + the man who quits it dead and fights it straight; anything else is + sheerest humbug and nonsense.’ + </p> + <p> + I had not gone in much for total abstinence up to this time, chiefly + because its advocates seemed for the most part to be somewhat + ill-balanced; but as I listened to Craig, I began to feel that perhaps + there was a total abstinence side to the temperance question; and as to + Black Rock, I could see how it must be one thing or the other. + </p> + <p> + We found Mrs. Mavor brave and bright. She shared Mr. Craig’s anxiety but + not his gloom. Her courage was of that serene kind that refuses to believe + defeat possible, and lifts the spirit into the triumph of final victory. + Through the past week she had been carefully disposing her forces and + winning recruits. And yet she never seemed to urge or persuade the men; + but as evening after evening the miners dropped into the cosy room + downstairs, with her talk and her songs she charmed them till they were + wholly hers. She took for granted their loyalty, trusted them utterly, and + so made it difficult for them to be other than true men. + </p> + <p> + That night Mrs. Mavor’s large storeroom, which had been fitted up with + seats, was crowded with miners when Mr. Craig and I entered. + </p> + <p> + After a glance over the crowd, Craig said, ‘There’s the manager; that + means war.’ And I saw a tall man, very fair, whose chin fell away to the + vanishing point, and whose hair was parted in the middle, talking to Mrs. + Mavor. She was dressed in some rich soft stuff that became her well. She + was looking beautiful as ever, but there was something quite new in her + manner. Her air of good-fellowship was gone, and she was the high-bred + lady, whose gentle dignity and sweet grace, while very winning, made + familiarity impossible. + </p> + <p> + The manager was doing his best, and appeared to be well pleased with + himself. ‘She’ll get him if any one can. I failed,’ said Craig. + </p> + <p> + I stood looking at the men, and a fine lot of fellows they were. Free, + easy, bold in their bearing, they gave no sign of rudeness; and, from + their frequent glances toward Mrs. Mavor, I could see they were always + conscious of her presence. No men are so truly gentle as are the + Westerners in the presence of a good woman. They were evidently of all + classes and ranks originally, but now, and in this country of real + measurements, they ranked simply according to the ‘man’ in them. ‘See that + handsome, young chap of dissipated appearance?’ said Craig; ‘that’s Vernon + Winton, an Oxford graduate, blue blood, awfully plucky, but quite gone. + When he gets repentant, instead of shooting himself, he comes to Mrs. + Mavor. Fact.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘From Oxford University to Black Rock mining camp is something of a step,’ + I replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘That queer-looking little chap in the corner is Billy Breen. How in the + world has he got here?’ went on Mr. Craig. Queer-looking he was. A little + man, with a small head set on heavy square shoulders, long arms, and huge + hands that sprawled all over his body; altogether a most ungainly specimen + of humanity. + </p> + <p> + By this time Mrs. Mavor had finished with the manager, and was in the + centre of a group of miners. Her grand air was all gone, and she was their + comrade, their friend, one of themselves. Nor did she assume the role of + entertainer, but rather did she, with half-shy air, cast herself upon + their chivalry, and they were too truly gentlemen to fail her. It is hard + to make Western men, and especially old-timers, talk. But this gift was + hers, and it stirred my admiration to see her draw on a grizzled veteran + to tell how, twenty years ago, he had crossed the Great Divide, and had + seen and done what no longer fell to men to see or do in these new days. + And so she won the old-timer. But it was beautiful to see the innocent + guile with which she caught Billy Breen, and drew him to her corner near + the organ. What she was saying I knew not, but poor Billy was protesting, + waving his big hands. + </p> + <p> + The meeting came to order, with Shaw in the chair, and the handsome young + Oxford man secretary. Shaw stated the object of the meeting in a few + halting words; but when he came to speak of the pleasure he and all felt + in being together in that room, his words flowed in a stream, warm and + full. Then there was a pause, and Mr. Craig was called. But he knew better + than to speak at that point. Finally Nixon rose hesitatingly; but, as he + caught a bright smile from Mrs. Mavor, he straightened himself as if for a + fight. + </p> + <p> + ‘I ain’t no good at makin’ speeches,’ he began; ‘but it ain’t speeches we + want. We’ve got somethin’ to do, and what we want to know is how to do it. + And to be right plain, we want to know how to drive this cursed whisky out + of Black Rock. You all know what it’s doing for us—at least for some + of us. And it’s time to stop it now, or for some of us it’ll mighty soon + be too late. And the only way to stop its work is to quit drinkin’ it and + help others to quit. I hear some talk of a League, and what I say is, if + it’s a League out and out against whisky, a Total Abstinence right to the + ground, then I’m with it—that’s my talk—I move we make that + kind of League.’ + </p> + <p> + Nixon sat down amid cheers and a chorus of remarks, ‘Good man!’ ‘That’s + the talk!’ ‘Stay with it!’ but he waited for the smile and the glance that + came to him from the beautiful face in the corner, and with that he seemed + content. + </p> + <p> + Again there was silence. Then the secretary rose with a slight flush upon + his handsome, delicate face, and seconded the motion. If they would pardon + a personal reference he would give them his reasons. He had come to this + country to make his fortune; now he was anxious to make enough to enable + him to go home with some degree of honour. His home held everything that + was dear to him. Between him and that home, between him and all that was + good and beautiful and honourable, stood whisky. ‘I am ashamed to + confess,’ and the flush deepened on his cheek, and his lips grew thinner, + ‘that I feel the need of some such league.’ His handsome face, his perfect + style of address, learned possibly in the ‘Union,’ but, more than all, his + show of nerve—for these men knew how to value that—made a + strong impression on his audience; but there were no following cheers. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Craig appeared hopeful; but on Mrs. Mavor’s face there was a look of + wistful, tender pity, for she knew how much the words had cost the lad. + </p> + <p> + Then up rose a sturdy, hard-featured man, with a burr in his voice that + proclaimed his birth. His name was George Crawford, I afterwards learned, + but every one called him Geordie. He was a character in his way, fond of + his glass; but though he was never known to refuse a drink, he was never + known to be drunk. He took his drink, for the most part, with bread and + cheese in his own shack, or with a friend or two in a sober, respectable + way, but never could be induced to join the wild carousals in Slavin’s + saloon. He made the highest wages, but was far too true a Scot to spend + his money recklessly. Every one waited eagerly to hear Geordie’s mind. He + spoke solemnly, as befitted a Scotsman expressing a deliberate opinion, + and carefully, as if choosing his best English, for when Geordie became + excited no one in Black Rock could understand him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Maister Chairman,’ said Geordie, ‘I’m aye for temperance in a’ things.’ + There was a shout of laughter, at which Geordie gazed round in pained + surprise. ‘I’ll no’ deny,’ he went on in an explanatory tone, ‘that I tak + ma mornin’, an’ maybe a nip at noon; an’ a wee drap aifter wark in the + evenin’, an’ whiles a sip o’ toddy wi’ a freen thae cauld nichts. But I’m + no’ a guzzler, an’ I dinna gang in wi’ thae loons flingin’ aboot guid + money.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And that’s thrue for you, me bye,’ interrupted a rich Irish brogue, to + the delight of the crowd and the amazement of Geordie, who went calmly on— + </p> + <p> + ‘An’ I canna bide yon saloon whaur they sell sic awfu’-like stuff—it’s + mair like lye nor guid whisky,—and whaur ye’re never sure o’ yer + richt change. It’s an awfu’-like place; man!’—and Geordie began to + warm up—‘ye can juist smell the sulphur when ye gang in. But I dinna + care aboot thae Temperance Soceeities, wi’ their pledges an’ havers; an’ I + canna see what hairm can come till a man by takin’ a bottle o’ guid + Glenlivet hame wi’ him. I canna bide thae teetotal buddies.’ + </p> + <p> + Geordie’s speech was followed by loud applause, partly appreciative of + Geordie himself, but largely sympathetic with his position. + </p> + <p> + Two or three men followed in the same strain advocating a league for + mutual improvement and social purposes, but without the teetotal pledge; + they were against the saloon, but didn’t see why they should not take a + drink now and then. + </p> + <p> + Finally the manager rose to support his ‘friend, Mistah—ah—Cwafoad,’ + ridiculing the idea of a total abstinence pledge as fanatical and indeed + ‘absuad.’ He was opposed to the saloon, and would like to see a club + formed, with a comfortable club-room, books, magazines, pictures, games, + anything, ‘dontcheknow, to make the time pass pleasantly’; but it was + ‘absuad to ask men to abstain fwom a pwopah use of—aw—nouwishing + dwinks,’ because some men made beasts of themselves. He concluded by + offering $50.00 towards the support of such a club. + </p> + <p> + The current of feeling was setting strongly against the total abstinence + idea, and Craig’s face was hard and his eyes gleamed like coals. Then he + did a bit of generalship. He proposed that since they had the two plans + clearly before them they should take a few minutes’ intermission in which + to make up their minds, and he was sure they would be glad to have Mrs. + Mavor sing. In the interval the men talked in groups, eagerly, even + fiercely, hampered seriously in the forceful expression of their opinion + by the presence of Mrs. Mavor, who glided from group to group, dropping a + word here and a smile there. She reminded me of a general riding along the + ranks, bracing his men for the coming battle. She paused beside Geordie, + spoke earnestly for a few moments, while Geordie gazed solemnly at her, + and then she came back to Billy in the corner near me. What she was saying + I could not hear, but poor Billy was protesting, spreading his hands out + aimlessly before him, but gazing at her the while in dumb admiration. Then + she came to me. ‘Poor Billy, he was good to my husband,’ she said softly, + ‘and he has a good heart.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s not much to look at,’ I could not help saying. + </p> + <p> + ‘The oyster hides its pearl,’ she answered, a little reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + ‘The shell is apparent enough,’ I replied, for the mischief was in me. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah yes,’ she replied softly, ‘but it is the pearl we love.’ + </p> + <p> + I moved over beside Billy, whose eyes were following Mrs. Mavor as she + went to speak to Mr. Craig. ‘Well,’ I said; ‘you all seem to have a high + opinion of her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘An ‘igh hopinion,’ he replied, in deep scorn. ‘An ‘igh hopinion, you + calls it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What would you call it?’ I asked, wishing to draw him out. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oi don’t call it nothink,’ he replied, spreading out his rough hands. + </p> + <p> + ‘She seems very nice,’ I said indifferently. + </p> + <p> + He drew his eyes away from Mrs. Mavor, and gave attention to me for the + first time. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nice!’ he repeated with fine contempt; and then he added impressively, + ‘Them as don’t know shouldn’t say nothink.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You are right,’ I answered earnestly, ‘and I am quite of your opinion.’ + </p> + <p> + He gave me a quick glance out of his little, deep-set, dark-blue eyes, and + opened his heart to me. He told me, in his quaint speech, how again and + again she had taken him in and nursed him, and encouraged him, and sent + him out with a new heart for his battle, until, for very shame’s sake at + his own miserable weakness, he had kept out of her way for many months, + going steadily down. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, oi hain’t got no grip; but when she says to me to-night, says she, + “Oh, Billy”—she calls me Billy to myself’ (this with a touch of + pride)—‘"oh, Billy,” says she, “we must ‘ave a total habstinence + league to-night, and oi want you to ‘elp!” and she keeps a-lookin’ at me + with those heyes o’ hern till, if you believe me, sir,’ lowering his voice + to an emphatic whisper, ‘though oi knowed oi couldn’t ‘elp none, afore oi + knowed oi promised ‘er oi would. It’s ‘er heyes. When them heyes says + “do,” hup you steps and “does.”’ + </p> + <p> + I remembered my first look into her eyes, and I could quite understand + Billy’s submission. Just as she began to sing I went over to Geordie and + took my seat beside him. She began with an English slumber song, ‘Sleep, + Baby, Sleep’—one of Barry Cornwall’s, I think,—and then sang a + love-song with the refrain, ‘Love once again’; but no thrills came to me, + and I began to wonder if her spell over me was broken. Geordie, who had + been listening somewhat indifferently, encouraged me, however, by saying, + ‘She’s just pittin’ aff time with thae feckless sangs; man, there’s nae + grup till them.’ But when, after a few minutes’ pause, she began ‘My Ain + Fireside,’ Geordie gave a sigh of satisfaction. ‘Ay, that’s somethin’ + like,’ and when she finished the first verse he gave me a dig in the ribs + with his elbow that took my breath away, saying in a whisper, ‘Man, hear + till yon, wull ye?’ And again I found the spell upon me. It was not the + voice after all, but the great soul behind that thrilled and compelled. + She was seeing, feeling, living what she sang, and her voice showed us her + heart. The cosy fireside, with its bonnie, blithe blink, where no care + could abide, but only peace and love, was vividly present to her, and as + she sang we saw it too. When she came to the last verse— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘When I draw in my stool + On my cosy hearth-stane, + My heart loups sae licht + I scarce ken’t for my ain,’ +</pre> + <p> + there was a feeling of tears in the flowing song, and we knew the words + had brought her a picture of the fireside that would always seem empty. I + felt the tears in my eyes, and, wondering at myself, I cast a stealthy + glance at the men about me; and I saw that they, too, were looking through + their hearts’ windows upon firesides and ingle-neuks that gleamed from + far. + </p> + <p> + And then she sang ‘The Auld Hoose,’ and Geordie, giving me another poke, + said, ‘That’s ma ain sang,’ and when I asked him what he meant, he + whispered fiercely, ‘Wheesht, man!’ and I did, for his face looked + dangerous. + </p> + <p> + In a pause between the verses I heard Geordie saying to himself, ‘Ay, I + maun gie it up, I doot.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What?’ I ventured. + </p> + <p> + ‘Naething ava.’ And then he added impatiently, ‘Man, but ye’re an + inqueesitive buddie,’ after which I subsided into silence. + </p> + <p> + Immediately upon the meeting being called to order, Mr. Craig made his + speech, and it was a fine bit of work. Beginning with a clear statement of + the object in view, he set in contrast the two kinds of leagues proposed. + One, a league of men who would take whisky in moderation; the other, a + league of men who were pledged to drink none themselves, and to prevent in + every honourable way others from drinking. There was no long argument, but + he spoke at white heat; and as he appealed to the men to think, each not + of himself alone, but of the others as well, the yearning, born of his + long months of desire and of toil, vibrated in his voice and reached to + the heart. Many men looked uncomfortable and uncertain, and even the + manager looked none too cheerful. + </p> + <p> + At this critical moment the crowd got a shock. Billy Breen shuffled out to + the front, and, in a voice shaking with nervousness and emotion, began to + speak, his large, coarse hands wandering tremulously about. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oi hain’t no bloomin’ temperance horator, and mayhap oi hain’t no right + to speak ‘ere, but oi got somethin’ to saigh (say) and oi’m agoin’ to + saigh it. + </p> + <p> + ‘Parson, ‘ee says is it wisky or no wisky in this ‘ere club? If ye hask + me, wich (which) ye don’t, then no wisky, says oi; and if ye hask why?—look + at me! Once oi could mine more coal than hany man in the camp; now oi + hain’t fit to be a sorter. Once oi ‘ad some pride and hambition; now oi + ‘angs round awaitin’ for some one to saigh, “Ere, Billy, ‘ave summat.” + Once oi made good paigh (pay), and sent it ‘ome regular to my poor old + mother (she’s in the wukus now, she is); oi hain’t sent ‘er hany for a + year and a ‘alf. Once Billy was a good fellow and ‘ad plenty o’ friends; + now Slavin ‘isself kicks un hout, ‘ee does. Why? why?’ His voice rose to a + shriek. ‘Because when Billy ‘ad money in ‘is pocket, hevery man in this + bloomin’ camp as meets un at hevery corner says, “‘Ello, Billy, wat’ll ye + ‘ave?” And there’s wisky at Slavin’s, and there’s wisky in the shacks, and + hevery ‘oliday and hevery Sunday there’s wisky, and w’en ye feel bad it’s + wisky, and w’en ye feel good it’s wisky, and heverywhere and halways it’s + wisky, wisky, wisky! And now ye’re goin’ to stop it, and ‘ow? T’ manager, + ‘ee says picters and magazines. ‘Ee takes ‘is wine and ‘is beer like a + gentleman, ‘ee does, and ‘ee don’t ‘ave no use for Billy Breen. Billy, + ‘ee’s a beast, and t’ manager, ‘ee kicks un hout. But supposin’ Billy + wants to stop bein’ a beast, and starts a-tryin’ to be a man again, and + w’en ‘ee gets good an’ dry, along comes some un and says, “‘Ello, Billy, + ‘ave a smile,” it hain’t picters nor magazines ‘ud stop un then. Picters + and magazines! Gawd ‘elp the man as hain’t nothin’ but picters and + magazines to ‘elp un w’en ‘ee’s got a devil hinside and a devil houtside + a-shovin’ and a-drawin’ of un down to ‘ell. And that’s w’ere oi’m a-goin’ + straight, and yer bloomin’ League, wisky or no wisky, can’t help me. But,’ + and he lifted his trembling hands above his head, ‘if ye stop the wisky + a-flowin’ round this camp, ye’ll stop some of these lads that’s + a-followin’ me ‘ard. Yes, you! and you! and you!’ and his voice rose to a + wild scream as he shook a trembling finger at one and another. + </p> + <p> + ‘Man, it’s fair gruesome tae hear him,’ said Geordie; ‘he’s no’ canny’; + and reaching out for Billy as he went stumbling past, he pulled him down + to a seat beside him, saying, ‘Sit doon, lad, sit doon. We’ll mak a man o’ + ye yet.’ Then he rose and, using many r’s, said, ‘Maister Chairman, a’ + doot we’ll juist hae to gie it up.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Give it up?’ called out Nixon. ‘Give up the League?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Na! na! lad, but juist the wee drap whusky. It’s nae that guid onyway, + and it’s a terrible price. Man, gin ye gang tae Henderson’s in Buchanan + Street, in Gleska, ye ken, ye’ll get mair for three-an’-saxpence than ye + wull at Slavin’s for five dollars. An’ it’ll no’ pit ye mad like yon + stuff, but it gangs doon smooth an’ saft-like. But’ (regretfully) ‘ye’ll + no’ can get it here; an’ a’m thinkin’ a’ll juist sign yon teetotal thing.’ + And up he strode to the table and put his name down in the book Craig had + ready. Then to Billy he said, ‘Come’ awa, lad! pit yer name doon, an’ + we’ll stan’ by ye.’ + </p> + <p> + Poor Billy looked around helplessly, his nerve all gone, and sat still. + There was a swift rustle of garments, and Mrs. Mavor was beside him, and, + in a voice that only Billy and I could hear, said, ‘You’ll sign with, me, + Billy?’ + </p> + <p> + Billy gazed at her with a hopeless look in his eyes, and shook his little, + head. She leaned slightly toward him, smiling brightly, and, touching his + arm gently, said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Come, Billy, there’s no fear,’ and in a lower voice, ‘God will help you.’ + </p> + <p> + As Billy went up, following Mrs. Mavor close, a hush fell on the men until + he had put his name to the pledge; then they came up, man by man, and + signed. But Craig sat with his head down till I touched his shoulder. He + took my hand and held it fast, saying over and over, under his breath, + ‘Thank God, thank God!’ + </p> + <p> + And so the League was made. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + BLACK ROCK RELIGION + </h3> + <p> + When I grow weary with the conventions of religion, and sick in my soul + from feeding upon husks, that the churches too often offer me, in the + shape of elaborate service and eloquent discourses, so that in my sickness + I doubt and doubt, then I go back to the communion in Black Rock and the + days preceding it, and the fever and the weariness leave me, and I grow + humble and strong. The simplicity and rugged grandeur of the faith, the + humble gratitude of the rough men I see about the table, and the calm + radiance of one saintly face, rest and recall me. + </p> + <p> + Not its most enthusiastic apologist would call Black Rock a religious + community, but it possessed in a marked degree that eminent Christian + virtue of tolerance. All creeds, all shades of religious opinion, were + allowed, and it was generally conceded that one was as good as another. It + is fair to say, however, that Black Rock’s catholicity was negative rather + than positive. The only religion objectionable was that insisted upon as a + necessity. It never occurred to any one to consider religion other than as + a respectable, if not ornamental, addition to life in older lands. + </p> + <p> + During the weeks following the making of the League, however, this + negative attitude towards things religious gave place to one of keen + investigation and criticism. The indifference passed away, and with it, in + a large measure, the tolerance. Mr. Craig was responsible for the former + of these changes, but hardly, in fairness, could he be held responsible + for the latter. If any one, more than another, was to be blamed for the + rise of intolerance in the village, that man was Geordie Crawford. He had + his ‘lines’ from the Established Kirk of Scotland, and when Mr. Craig + announced his intention of having the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper + observed, Geordie produced his ‘lines’ and promptly handed them in. As no + other man in the village was equipped with like spiritual credentials, + Geordie constituted himself a kind of kirk-session, charged with the + double duty of guarding the entrance to the Lord’s Table, and of keeping + an eye upon the theological opinions of the community, and more + particularly upon such members of it as gave evidence of possessing any + opinions definite enough for statement. + </p> + <p> + It came to be Mr. Craig’s habit to drop into the League-room, and toward + the close of the evening to have a short Scripture lesson from the + Gospels. Geordie’s opportunity came after the meeting was over and Mr. + Craig had gone away. The men would hang about and talk the lesson over, + expressing opinions favourable or unfavourable as appeared to them good. + Then it was that all sorts of views, religious and otherwise, were aired + and examined. The originality of the ideas, the absolute disregard of the + authority of church or creed, the frankness with which opinions were + stated, and the forcefulness of the language in which they were expressed, + combined to make the discussions altogether marvellous. The passage + between Abe Baker, the stage-driver, and Geordie was particularly rich. It + followed upon a very telling lesson on the parable of the Pharisee and the + Publican. + </p> + <p> + The chief actors in that wonderful story were transferred to the Black + Rock stage, and were presented in miner’s costume. Abe was particularly + well pleased with the scoring of the ‘blanked old rooster who crowed so + blanked high,’ and somewhat incensed at the quiet remark interjected by + Geordie, ‘that it was nae credit till a man tae be a sinner’; and when + Geordie went on to urge the importance of right conduct and + respectability, Abe was led to pour forth vials of contemptuous wrath upon + the Pharisees and hypocrites who thought themselves better than other + people. But Geordie was quite unruffled, and lamented the ignorance of men + who, brought up in ‘Epeescopawlyun or Methody’ churches, could hardly be + expected to detect the Antinomian or Arminian heresies. + </p> + <p> + ‘Aunty Nomyun or Uncle Nomyun,’ replied Abe, boiling hot, ‘my mother was a + Methodist, and I’ll back any blanked Methodist against any blankety blank + long-faced, lantern-jawed, skinflint Presbyterian,’ and this he was eager + to maintain to any man’s satisfaction if he would step outside. + </p> + <p> + Geordie was quite unmoved, but hastened to assure Abe that he meant no + disrespect to his mother, who he had ‘nae doot was a clever enough buddie, + tae judge by her son.’ Abe was speedily appeased, and offered to set up + the drinks all round. But Geordie, with evident reluctance, had to + decline, saying, ‘Na, na, lad, I’m a League man ye ken,’ and I was sure + that Geordie at that moment felt that membership in the League had its + drawbacks. + </p> + <p> + Nor was Geordie too sure of Craig’s orthodoxy; while as to Mrs. Mavor, + whose slave he was, he was in the habit of lamenting her doctrinal + condition— + </p> + <p> + ‘She’s a fine wumman, nae doot; but, puir cratur, she’s fair carried awa + wi’ the errors o’ thae Epeescopawlyuns.’ + </p> + <p> + It fell to Geordie, therefore, as a sacred duty, in view of the laxity of + those who seemed to be the pillars of the Church, to be all the more + watchful and unyielding. But he was delightfully inconsistent when + confronted with particulars. In conversation with him one night after one + of the meetings, when he had been specially hard upon the ignorant and + godless, I innocently changed the subject to Billy Breen, whom Geordie had + taken to his shack since the night of the League. He was very proud of + Billy’s success in the fight against whisky, the credit of which he + divided unevenly between Mrs. Mavor and himself. + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s fair daft aboot her,’ he explained to me, ‘an’ I’ll no’ deny but + she’s a great help, ay, a verra conseederable asseestance; but, man, she + doesna ken the whusky, an’ the inside o’ a man that’s wantin’ it. Ay, puir + buddie, she diz her pairt, an’ when ye’re a bit restless an thrawn aifter + yer day’s wark, it’s like a walk in a bonnie glen on a simmer eve, with + the birds liltin’ aboot, tae sit in yon roomie and hear her sing; but when + the night is on, an’ ye canna sleep, but wauken wi’ an’ awfu’ thurst and + wi’ dreams o’ cosy firesides, and the bonnie sparklin’ glosses, as it is + wi’ puir Billy, ay, it’s then ye need a man wi’ a guid grup beside ye.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you do then, Geordie?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oo ay, I juist gang for a bit walk wi’ the lad, and then pits the kettle + on an’ maks a cup o’ tea or coffee, an’ aff he gangs tae sleep like a + bairn.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor Billy,’ I said pityingly, ‘there’s no hope for him in the future, I + fear.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hoot awa, man,’ said Geordie quickly. ‘Ye wadna keep oot a puir cratur + frae creepin’ in, that’s daein’ his best?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, Geordie,’ I remonstrated, ‘he doesn’t know anything of the + doctrines. I don’t believe he could give us “The Chief End of Man.”’ + </p> + <p> + ‘An’ wha’s tae blame for that?’ said Geordie, with fine indignation. ‘An’ + maybe you remember the prood Pharisee and the puir wumman that cam’ + creepin’ in ahint the Maister.’ + </p> + <p> + The mingled tenderness and indignation in Geordie’s face were beautiful to + see, so I meekly answered, ‘Well, I hope Mr. Craig won’t be too strict + with the boys.’ + </p> + <p> + Geordie shot a suspicious glance at me, but I kept my face like a summer + morn, and he replied cautiously— + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, he’s no’ that streect: but he maun exerceese discreemination.’ + </p> + <p> + Geordie was none the less determined, however, that Billy should ‘come + forrit’; but as to the manager, who was a member of the English Church, + and some others who had been confirmed years ago, and had forgotten much + and denied more, he was extremely doubtful, and expressed himself in very + decided words to the minister— + </p> + <p> + ‘Ye’ll no’ be askin’ forrit thae Epeescopawlyun buddies. They juist ken + naething ava.’ + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Craig looked at him for a moment and said, “Him that cometh unto + Me I will in no wise cast out,”’ and Geordie was silent, though he + continued doubtful. + </p> + <p> + With all these somewhat fantastic features, however, there was no + mistaking the earnest spirit of the men. The meetings grew larger every + night, and the interest became more intense. The singing became different. + The men no longer simply shouted, but as Mr. Craig would call attention to + the sentiment of the hymn, the voices would attune themselves to the + words. Instead of encouraging anything like emotional excitement, Mr. + Craig seemed to fear it. + </p> + <p> + ‘These chaps are easily stirred up,’ he would say, ‘and I am anxious that + they should know exactly what they are doing. It is far too serious a + business to trifle with.’ + </p> + <p> + Although Graeme did not go downstairs to the meetings, he could not but + feel the throb of the emotion beating in the heart of the community. I + used to detail for his benefit, and sometimes for his amusement, the + incidents of each night. But I never felt quite easy in dwelling upon the + humorous features in Mrs. Mavor’s presence, although Craig did not appear + to mind. His manner with Graeme was perfect. Openly anxious to win him to + his side, he did not improve the occasion and vex him with exhortation. He + would not take him at a disadvantage, though, as I afterwards found, this + was not his sole reason for his method. Mrs. Mavor, too, showed herself in + wise and tender light. She might have been his sister, so frank was she + and so openly affectionate, laughing at his fretfulness and soothing his + weariness. + </p> + <p> + Never were better comrades than we four, and the bright days speeding so + swiftly on drew us nearer to one another. + </p> + <p> + But the bright days came to an end; for Graeme, when once he was able to + go about, became anxious to get back to the camp. And so the last day + came, a day I remember well. It was a bright, crisp winter day. + </p> + <p> + The air was shimmering in the frosty light. The mountains, with their + shining heads piercing through light clouds into that wonderful blue of + the western sky, and their feet pushed into the pine masses, gazed down + upon Black Rock with calm, kindly looks on their old grey faces. How one + grows to love them, steadfast old friends! Far up among the pines we could + see the smoke of the engine at the works, and so still and so clear was + the mountain air that we could hear the puff of the steam, and from far + down the river the murmur of the rapids. The majestic silence, the tender + beauty, the peace, the loneliness, too, came stealing in upon us, as we + three, leaving Mrs. Mavor behind us, marched arm-in-arm down the street. + We had not gone far on our way, when Graeme, turning round, stood a moment + looking back, then waved his hand in farewell. Mrs. Mavor was at her + window, smiling and waving in return. They had grown to be great friends + these two; and seemed to have arrived at some understanding. Certainly, + Graeme’s manner to her was not that he bore to other women. His + half-quizzical, somewhat superior air of mocking devotion gave place to a + simple, earnest, almost tender, respect, very new to him, but very + winning. + </p> + <p> + As he stood there waving his farewell, I glanced at his face and saw for a + moment what I had not seen for years, a faint flush on Graeme’s cheek and + a light of simple, earnest faith in his eyes. It reminded me of my first + look of him when he had come up for his matriculation to the ‘Varsity. He + stood on the campus looking up at the noble old pile, and there was the + same bright, trustful, earnest look on his boyish face. + </p> + <p> + I know not what spirit possessed me; it may have been the pain of the + memory working in me, but I said, coarsely enough, ‘It’s no use, Graeme, + my boy; I would fall in love with her myself, but there would be no chance + even for me.’ + </p> + <p> + The flush slowly darkened as he turned and said deliberately— + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s not like you, Connor, to be an ass of that peculiar kind. Love!—not + exactly! She won’t fall in love unless—’ and he stopped abruptly + with his eyes upon Craig. + </p> + <p> + But Craig met him with unshrinking gaze, quietly remarking, ‘Her heart is + under the pines’; and we moved on, each thinking his own thoughts, and + guessing at the thoughts of the others. + </p> + <p> + We were on our way to Craig’s shack, and as we passed the saloon Slavin + stepped from the door with a salutation. Graeme paused. ‘Hello, Slavin! I + got rather the worst of it, didn’t I?’ + </p> + <p> + Slavin came near, and said earnestly, ‘It was a dirty thrick altogether; + you’ll not think it was moine, Mr. Graeme.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no, Slavin! you stood up like a man,’ said Graeme cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + ‘And you bate me fair; an’ bedad it was a nate one that laid me out; an’ + there’s no grudge in me heart till ye.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All right, Slavin; we’ll perhaps understand each other better after + this.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘An’ that’s thrue for yez, sor; an’ I’ll see that your byes don’t get any + more than they ask for,’ replied Slavin, backing away. + </p> + <p> + ‘And I hope that won’t be much,’ put in Mr. Craig; but Slavin only + grinned. + </p> + <p> + When we came to Craig’s shack Graeme was glad to rest in the big chair. + </p> + <p> + Craig made him a cup of tea, while I smoked, admiring much the deft + neatness of the minister’s housekeeping, and the gentle, almost motherly, + way he had with Graeme. + </p> + <p> + In our talk we drifted into the future, and Craig let us see what were his + ambitions. The railway was soon to come; the resources were, as yet, + unexplored, but enough was known to assure a great future for British + Columbia. As he talked his enthusiasm grew, and carried us away. With the + eye of a general he surveyed the country, fixed the strategic points which + the Church must seize upon. Eight good men would hold the country from + Fort Steele to the coast, and from Kootenay to Cariboo. + </p> + <p> + ‘The Church must be in with the railway; she must have a hand in the + shaping of the country. If society crystallises without her influence, the + country is lost, and British Columbia will be another trap-door to the + bottomless pit.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you propose?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Organising a little congregation here in Black Rock.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How many will you get?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Pretty hopeless business,’ I said. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hopeless! hopeless!’ he cried; ‘there were only twelve of us at first to + follow Him, and rather a poor lot they were. But He braced them up, and + they conquered the world.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But surely things are different,’ said Graeme. + </p> + <p> + ‘Things? Yes! yes! But He is the same.’ His face had an exalted look, and + his eyes were gazing into far-away places. + </p> + <p> + ‘A dozen men in Black Rock with some real grip of Him would make things + go. We’ll get them, too,’ he went on in growing excitement. ‘I believe in + my soul we’ll get them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, Craig; if you organise I’d like to join,’ said Graeme + impulsively. ‘I don’t believe much in your creed or your Church, but I’ll + be blowed if I don’t believe in you.’ + </p> + <p> + Craig looked at him with wistful eyes, and shook his head. ‘It won’t do, + old chap, you know. I can’t hold you. You’ve got to have a grip of some + one better than I am; and then, besides, I hardly like asking you now’; he + hesitated—‘well, to be out-and-out, this step must be taken not for + my sake, nor for any man’s sake, and I fancy that perhaps you feel like + pleasing me just now a little.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That I do, old fellow,’ said Graeme, putting out his hand. ‘I’ll be + hanged if I won’t do anything you say.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s why I won’t say,’ replied Craig. Then reverently he added, ‘the + organisation is not mine. It is my Master’s.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When are you going to begin?’ asked Graeme. + </p> + <p> + ‘We shall have our communion service in two weeks, and that will be our + roll-call.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How many will answer?’ I asked doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + ‘I know of three,’ he said quietly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Three! There are two hundred miners and one hundred and fifty lumbermen! + Three!’ and Graeme looked at him in amazement. ‘You think it worth while + to organise three?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ replied Craig, smiling for the first time, ‘the organisation won’t + be elaborate, but it will be effective, and, besides, loyalty demands + obedience.’ + </p> + <p> + We sat long that afternoon talking, shrinking from the breaking up; for we + knew that we were about to turn down a chapter in our lives which we + should delight to linger over in after days. And in my life there is but + one brighter. At last we said good-bye and drove away; and though many + farewells have come in between that day and this, none is so vividly + present to me as that between us three men. Craig’s manner with me was + solemn enough. ‘“He that loveth his life”; good-bye, don’t fool with + this,’ was what he said to me. But when he turned to Graeme his whole face + lit up. He took him by the shoulders and gave him a little shake, looking + into his eyes, and saying over and over in a low, sweet tone— + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ll come, old chap, you’ll come, you’ll come. Tell me you’ll come.’ + </p> + <p> + And Graeme could say nothing in reply, but only looked at him. Then they + silently shook hands, and we drove off. But long after we had got over the + mountain and into the winding forest road on the way to the lumber-camp + the voice kept vibrating in my heart, ‘You’ll come, you’ll come,’ and + there was a hot pain in my throat. + </p> + <p> + We said little during the drive to the camp. Graeme was thinking hard, and + made no answer when I spoke to him two or three times, till we came to the + deep shadows of the pine forest, when with a little shiver he said— + </p> + <p> + ‘It is all a tangle—a hopeless tangle.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Meaning what?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘This business of religion—what quaint varieties—Nelson’s, + Geordie’s, Billy Breen’s—if he has any—then Mrs. Mavor’s—she + is a saint, of course—and that fellow Craig’s. What a trump he is!—and + without his religion he’d be pretty much like the rest of us. It is too + much for me.’ + </p> + <p> + His mystery was not mine. The Black Rock varieties of religion were + certainly startling; but there was undoubtedly the streak of reality + though them all, and that discovery I felt to be a distinct gain. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION + </h3> + <p> + The gleam of the great fire through the windows of the great camp gave a + kindly welcome as we drove into the clearing in which the shanties stood. + Graeme was greatly touched at his enthusiastic welcome by the men. At the + supper-table he made a little speech of thanks for their faithfulness + during his absence, specially commending the care and efficiency of Mr. + Nelson, who had had charge of the camp. The men cheered wildly, Baptiste’s + shrill voice leading all. Nelson being called upon, expressed in a few + words his pleasure at seeing the Boss back, and thanked the men for their + support while he had been in charge. + </p> + <p> + The men were for making a night of it; but fearing the effect upon Graeme, + I spoke to Nelson, who passed the word, and in a short time the camp was + quiet. As we sauntered from the grub-camp to the office where was our bed, + we paused to take in the beauty of the night. The moon rode high over the + peaks of the mountains, flooding the narrow valley with mellow light. + Under her magic the rugged peaks softened their harsh lines and seemed to + lean lovingly toward us. The dark pine masses stood silent as in + breathless adoration; the dazzling snow lay like a garment over all the + open spaces in soft, waving folds, and crowned every stump with a quaintly + shaped nightcap. Above the camps the smoke curled up from the camp-fires, + standing like pillars of cloud that kept watch while men slept. And high + over all the deep blue night sky, with its star jewels, sprang like the + roof of a great cathedral from range to range, covering us in its kindly + shelter. How homelike and safe seemed the valley with its mountain-sides, + its sentinel trees and arching roof of jewelled sky! Even the night seemed + kindly, and friendly the stars; and the lone cry of the wolf from the deep + forest seemed like the voice of a comrade. + </p> + <p> + ‘How beautiful! too beautiful!’ said Graeme, stretching out his arms. ‘A + night like this takes the heart out of me.’ + </p> + <p> + I stood silent, drinking in at every sense the night with its wealth of + loveliness. + </p> + <p> + ‘What is it I want?’ he went on. ‘Why does the night make my heart ache? + There are things to see and things to hear just beyond me; I cannot get to + them.’ The gay, careless look was gone from his face, his dark eyes were + wistful with yearning. + </p> + <p> + ‘I often wonder if life has nothing better for me,’ he continued with his + heartache voice. + </p> + <p> + I said no word, but put my arm within his. A light appeared in the stable. + Glad of a diversion, I said, ‘What is the light? Let us go and see.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sandy, taking a last look at his team, like enough.’ + </p> + <p> + We walked slowly toward the stable, speaking no word. As we neared the + door we heard the sound of a voice in the monotone of one reading. I + stepped forward and looked through a chink between the logs. Graeme was + about to open the door, but I held up my hand and beckoned him to me. In a + vacant stall, where was a pile of straw, a number of men were grouped. + Sandy, leaning against the tying-post upon which the stable-lantern hung, + was reading; Nelson was kneeling in front of him and gazing into the gloom + beyond; Baptiste lay upon his stomach, his chin in his hands and his + upturned eyes fastened upon Sandy’s face; Lachlan Campbell sat with his + hands clasped about his knees, and two other men sat near him. Sandy was + reading the undying story of the Prodigal, Nelson now and then stopping + him to make a remark. It was a scene I have never been able to forget. + To-day I pause in my tale, and see it as clearly as when I looked through + the chink upon it years ago. The long, low stable, with log walls and + upright hitching-poles; the dim outlines of the horses in the gloom of the + background, and the little group of rough, almost savage-looking men, with + faces wondering and reverent, lit by the misty light of the + stable-lantern. + </p> + <p> + After the reading, Sandy handed the book to Nelson, who put it in his + pocket, saying, ‘That’s for us, boys, ain’t it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay,’ said Lachlan; ‘it is often that has been read in my hearing, but I + am afraid it will not be for me whatever,’ and he swayed himself slightly + as he spoke, and his voice was full of pain. + </p> + <p> + ‘The minister said I might come,’ said old Nelson, earnestly and + hopefully. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, but you are not Lachlan Campbell, and you hef not had his privileges. + My father was a godly elder in the Free Church of Scotland, and never a + night or morning but we took the Books.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, but He said “any man,”’ persisted Nelson, putting his hand on + Lachlan’s knee. But Lachlan shook his head. + </p> + <p> + ‘Dat young feller,’ said Baptiste; ‘wha’s hees nem, heh?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He has no name. It is just a parable,’ explained Sandy. + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s got no nem? He’s just a parom’ble? Das no young feller?’ asked + Baptiste anxiously; ‘das mean noting?’ + </p> + <p> + Then Nelson took him in hand and explained to him the meaning, while + Baptiste listened even more eagerly, ejaculating softly, ‘ah, voila! bon! + by gar!’ When Nelson had finished he broke out, ‘Dat young feller, his + name Baptiste, heh? and de old Fadder he’s le bon Dieu? Bon! das good + story for me. How you go back? You go to de pries’?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The book doesn’t say priest or any one else,’ said Nelson. ‘You go back + in yourself, you see?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Non; das so, sure nuff. Ah!’—as if a light broke in upon him—‘you + go in your own self. You make one leetle prayer. You say, “Le bon Fadder, + oh! I want come back, I so tire, so hongree, so sorree”? He, say, “Come + right ‘long.” Ah! das fuss-rate. Nelson, you make one leetle prayer for + Sandy and me.’ + </p> + <p> + And Nelson lifted up his face and said: ‘Father, we’re all gone far away; + we have spent all, we are poor, we are tired of it all; we want to feel + different, to be different; we want to come back. Jesus came to save us + from our sins; and he said if we came He wouldn’t cast us out, no matter + how bad we were, if we only came to Him. Oh, Jesus Christ’—and his + old, iron face began to work, and two big tears slowly came from under his + eyelids—‘we are a poor lot, and I’m the worst of the lot, and we are + trying to find the way. Show us how to get back. Amen.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Bon!’ said Baptiste. ‘Das fetch Him sure!’ + </p> + <p> + Graeme pulled me away, and without a word we went into the office and drew + up to the little stove. Graeme was greatly moved. + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you ever see anything like that?’ he asked. ‘Old Nelson! the hardest, + savagest, toughest old sinner in the camp, on his knees before a lot of + men!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Before God,’ I could not help saying, for the thing seemed very real to + me. The old man evidently felt himself talking to some one. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right,’ said Graeme doubtfully; ‘but there’s a lot + of stuff I can’t swallow.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When you take medicine you don’t swallow the bottle,’ I replied, for his + trouble was not mine. + </p> + <p> + ‘If I were sure of the medicine, I wouldn’t mind the bottle, and yet it + acts well enough,’ he went on. ‘I don’t mind Lachlan; he’s a Highland + mystic, and has visions, and Sandy’s almost as bad, and Baptiste is an + impulsive little chap. Those don’t count much. But old man Nelson is a + cool-blooded, level-headed old fellow; has seen a lot of life, too. And + then there’s Craig. He has a better head than I have, and is as + hot-blooded, and yet he is living and slaving away in that hole, and + really enjoys it. There must be something in it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, look here, Graeme,’ I burst out impatiently; ‘what’s the use of your + talking like that? Of course there’s something in it. I here’s everything + in it. The trouble with me is I can’t face the music. It calls for a life + where a fellow must go in for straight, steady work, self-denial, and that + sort of thing; and I’m too Bohemian for that, and too lazy. But that + fellow Craig makes one feel horribly uncomfortable.’ + </p> + <p> + Graeme put his head on one side, and examined me curiously. + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe you’re right about yourself. You always were a luxurious + beggar. But that’s not where it catches me.’ + </p> + <p> + We sat and smoked and talked of other things for an hour, and then turned + in. As I was dropping off I was roused by Graeme’s voice— + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you going to the preparatory service on Friday night?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t know,’ I replied rather sleepily. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, do you remember the preparatory service at home?’ There was + something in his voice that set me wide awake. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes. Rather terrific, wasn’t it? But I always felt better after it,’ I + replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘To me’—he was sitting up in bed now—‘to me it was like a call + to arms, or rather like a call for a forlorn hope. None but volunteers + wanted. Do you remember the thrill in the old governor’s voice as he dared + any but the right stuff to come on?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We’ll go in on Friday night,’ I said. + </p> + <p> + And so we did. Sandy took a load of men with his team, and Graeme and I + drove in the light sleigh. + </p> + <p> + The meeting was in the church, and over a hundred men were present. There + was some singing of familiar hymns at first, and then Mr. Craig read the + same story as we had heard in the stable, that most perfect of all + parables, the Prodigal Son. Baptiste nudged Sandy in delight, and + whispered something, but Sandy held his face so absolutely expressionless + that Graeme was moved to say— + </p> + <p> + ‘Look at Sandy! Did you ever see such a graven image? Something has hit + him hard.’ + </p> + <p> + The men were held fast by the story. The voice of the reader, low, + earnest, and thrilling with the tender pathos of the tale, carried the + words to our hearts, while a glance, a gesture, a movement of the body + gave us the vision of it all as he was seeing it. + </p> + <p> + Then, in simplest of words, he told us what the story meant, holding us + the while with eyes, and voice, and gesture. He compelled us scorn the + gay, heartless selfishness of the young fool setting forth so jauntily + from the broken home; he moved our pity and our sympathy for the young + profligate, who, broken and deserted, had still pluck enough to determine + to work his way back, and who, in utter desperation, at last gave it up; + and then he showed us the homecoming—the ragged, heart-sick tramp, + with hesitating steps, stumbling along the dusty road, and then the rush + of the old father, his garments fluttering, and his voice heard in broken + cries. I see and hear it all now, whenever the words are read. + </p> + <p> + He announced the hymn, ‘Just as I am,’ read the first verse, and then went + on: ‘There you are, men, every man of you, somewhere on the road. Some of + you are too lazy’—here Graeme nudged me—‘and some of you + haven’t got enough yet of the far country to come back. May there be a + chance for you when you want to come! Men, you all want to go back home, + and when you go you’ll want to put on your soft clothes, and you won’t go + till you can go in good style; but where did the prodigal get his good + clothes?’ Quick came the answer in Baptiste’s shrill voice— + </p> + <p> + ‘From de old fadder!’ + </p> + <p> + No one was surprised, and the minister went on— + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes! and that’s where we must get the good, clean heart, the good, clean, + brave heart, from our Father. Don’t wait, but, just as you are, come. + Sing.’ + </p> + <p> + They sang, not loud, as they would ‘Stand Up,’ or even ‘The Sweet By and + By,’ but in voices subdued, holding down the power in them. + </p> + <p> + After the singing, Craig stood a moment gazing down at the men, and then + said quietly— + </p> + <p> + ‘Any man want to come? You all might come. We all must come.’ Then, + sweeping his arm over the audience, and turning half round as if to move + off, he cried, in a voice that thrilled to the heart’s core— + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! come on! Let’s go back!’ + </p> + <p> + The effect was overpowering. It seemed to me that the whole company half + rose to their feet. Of the prayer that immediately followed, I only caught + the opening sentence, ‘Father, we are coming back,’ for my attention was + suddenly absorbed by Abe, the stage-driver, who was sitting next me. I + could hear him swearing approval and admiration, saying to himself— + </p> + <p> + ‘Ain’t he a clinker! I’ll be gee-whizzly-gol-dusted if he ain’t a + malleable-iron-double-back-action self-adjusting corn-cracker.’ And the + prayer continued to be punctuated with like admiring and even more + sulphurous expletives. It was an incongruous medley. The earnest, reverent + prayer, and the earnest, admiring profanity, rendered chaotic one’s ideas + of religious propriety. The feelings in both were akin; the method of + expression somewhat widely diverse. + </p> + <p> + After prayer, Craig’s tone changed utterly. In a quiet, matter-of-fact, + businesslike way he stated his plan of organisation, and called for all + who wished to join to remain after the benediction. Some fifty men were + left, among them Nelson, Sandy, Lachlan Campbell, Baptiste, Shaw, Nixon, + Geordie, and Billy Breen, who tried to get out, but was held fast by + Geordie. + </p> + <p> + Graeme was passing out, but I signed him to remain, saying that I wished + ‘to see the thing out.’ Abe sat still beside me, swearing disgustedly at + the fellows ‘who were going back on the preacher.’ Craig appeared amazed + at the number of men remaining, and seemed to fear that something was + wrong. He put before them the terms of discipleship, as the Master put + them to the eager scribe, and he did not make them easy. He pictured the + kind of work to be done, and the kind of men needed for the doing of it. + Abe grew uneasy as the minister went on to describe the completeness of + the surrender, the intensity of the loyalty demanded. + </p> + <p> + ‘That knocks me out, I reckon,’ he muttered, in a disappointed tone; ‘I + ain’t up to that grade.’ And as Craig described the heroism called for, + the magnificence of the fight, the worth of it, and the outcome of it all, + Abe ground out: I’ll be blanked if I wouldn’t like to take a hand, but I + guess I’m not in it.’ Craig finished by saying— + </p> + <p> + ‘I want to put this quite fairly. It is not any league of mine; you’re not + joining my company; it is no easy business, and it is for your whole life. + What do you say? Do I put it fairly? What do you say, Nelson?’ + </p> + <p> + Nelson rose slowly, and with difficulty began— + </p> + <p> + ‘I may be all wrong, but you made it easier for me, Mr. Craig. You said He + would see me through, or I should never have risked it. Perhaps I am + wrong,’ and the old man looked troubled. Craig sprang up. + </p> + <p> + ‘No! no! Thank God, no! He will see every man through who will trust his + life to Him. Every man, no matter how tough he is, no matter how broken.’ + </p> + <p> + Then Nelson straightened himself up and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, sir! I believe a lot of the men would go in for this if they were + dead sure they would get through.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Get through!’ said Craig; ‘never a fear of it. It is a hard fight, a long + fight, a glorious fight,’ throwing up his head, but every man who squarely + trusts Him, and takes Him as Lord and Master, comes out victor!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Bon!’ said Baptiste ‘Das me. You tink He’s take me in dat fight, M’sieu + Craig, heh?’ His eyes were blazing. + </p> + <p> + ‘You mean it?’ asked Craig almost sternly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes! by gar!’ said the little Frenchman eagerly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hear what He says, then’; and Craig, turning over the leaves of his + Testament, read solemnly the words, ‘Swear not at all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Non! For sure! Den I stop him,’ replied Baptiste earnestly; and Craig + wrote his name down. + </p> + <p> + Poor Abe looked amazed and distressed, rose slowly, and saying, ‘That jars + my whisky jug,’ passed out. There was a slight movement near the organ, + and glancing up I saw Mrs. Mavor put her face hastily in her hands. The + men’s faces were anxious and troubled, and Nelson said in a voice that + broke— + </p> + <p> + ‘Tell them what you told me, sir.’ But Craig was troubled too, and + replied, ‘You tell them, Nelson!’ and Nelson told the men the story of how + he began just five weeks ago. The old man’s voice steadied as he went on, + and he grew eager as he told how he had been helped, and how the world was + all different, and his heart seemed new. He spoke of his Friend as if He + were some one that could be seen out at camp, that he knew well, and met + every day. + </p> + <p> + But as he tried to say how deeply he regretted that he had not known all + this years before, the old, hard face began to quiver, and the steady + voice wavered. Then he pulled himself together, and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘I begin to feel sure He’ll pull me through—me! the hardest man in + the mountains! So don’t you fear, boys. He’s all right.’ + </p> + <p> + Then the men gave in their names, one by one. When it came to Geordie’s + turn, he gave his name— + </p> + <p> + ‘George Crawford, frae the pairish o’ Kilsyth, Scotland, an’ ye’ll juist + pit doon the lad’s name, Maister Craig; he’s a wee bit fashed wi’ the + discoorse, but he has the root o’ the maitter in him, I doot.’ And so + Billy Breen’s name went down. + </p> + <p> + When the meeting was over, thirty-eight names stood upon the communion + roll of the Black Rock Presbyterian Church; and it will ever be one of the + regrets of my life that neither Graeme’s name nor my own appeared on that + roll. And two days after, when the cup went round on that first Communion + Sabbath, from Nelson to Sandy, and from Sandy to Baptiste, and so on down + the line to Billy Breen and Mrs. Mavor, and then to Abe, the driver, whom + she had by her own mystic power lifted into hope and faith, I felt all the + shame and pain of a traitor; and I believe, in my heart that the fire of + that pain and shame burned something of the selfish cowardice out of me, + and that it is burning still. + </p> + <p> + The last words of the minister, in the short address after the table had + been served, were low, and sweet, and tender, but they were words of high + courage; and before he had spoken them all, the men were listening with + shining eyes, and when they rose to sing the closing hymn they stood + straight and stiff like soldiers on parade. + </p> + <p> + And I wished more than ever I were one of them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE + </h3> + <p> + There is no doubt in my mind that nature designed me for a great painter. + A railway director interfered with that design of nature, as he has with + many another of hers, and by the transmission of an order for mountain + pieces by the dozen, together with a cheque so large that I feared there + was some mistake, he determined me to be an illustrator and designer for + railway and like publications. I do not like these people ordering ‘by the + dozen.’ Why should they not consider an artist’s finer feelings? Perhaps + they cannot understand them; but they understand my pictures, and I + understand their cheques, and there we are quits. But so it came that I + remained in Black Rock long enough to witness the breaking of the League. + </p> + <p> + Looking back upon the events of that night from the midst of gentle and + decent surroundings, they now seem strangely unreal, but to me then they + appeared only natural. + </p> + <p> + It was the Good Friday ball that wrecked the League. For the fact that the + promoters of the ball determined that it should be a ball rather than a + dance was taken by the League men as a concession to the new public + opinion in favour of respectability created by the League. And when the + manager’s patronage had been secured (they failed to get Mrs. Mavor’s), + and it was further announced that, though held in the Black Rock Hotel + ballroom—indeed, there was no other place—refreshments suited + to the peculiar tastes of League men would be provided, it was felt to be + almost a necessity that the League should approve, should indeed welcome, + this concession to the public opinion in favour of respectability created + by the League. + </p> + <p> + There were extreme men on both sides, of course. ‘Idaho’ Jack, + professional gambler, for instance, frankly considered that the whole town + was going to unmentionable depths of propriety. The organisation of the + League was regarded by him, and by many others, as a sad retrograde + towards the bondage of the ancient and dying East; and that he could not + get drunk when and where he pleased, ‘Idaho,’ as he was called, regarded + as a personal grievance. + </p> + <p> + But Idaho was never enamoured of the social ways of Black Rock. He was + shocked and disgusted when he discovered that a ‘gun’ was decreed by + British law to be an unnecessary adornment of a card-table. The manner of + his discovery must have been interesting to behold. + </p> + <p> + It is said that Idaho was industriously pursuing his avocation in + Slavin’s, with his ‘gun’ lying upon the card-table convenient to his hand, + when in walked policeman Jackson, her Majesty’s sole representative in the + Black Rock district. Jackson, ‘Stonewall’ Jackson, or ‘Stonewall,’ as he + was called for obvious reasons, after watching the game for a few moments, + gently tapped the pistol and asked what he used this for. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll show you in two holy minutes if you don’t light out,’ said Idaho, + hardly looking up, but very angrily, for the luck was against him. But + Jackson tapped upon the table and said sweetly— + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re a stranger here. You ought to get a guide-book and post yourself. + Now, the boys know I don’t interfere with an innocent little game, but + there is a regulation against playing it with guns; so,’ he added even + more sweetly, but fastening Idaho with a look from his steel-grey eyes, + ‘I’ll just take charge of this,’ picking up the revolver; ‘it might go + off.’ + </p> + <p> + Idaho’s rage, great as it was, was quite swallowed up in his amazed + disgust at the state of society that would permit such an outrage upon + personal liberty. He was quite unable to play any more that evening, and + it took several drinks all round to restore him to articulate speech. The + rest of the night was spent in retailing for his instruction stories of + the ways of Stonewall Jackson. + </p> + <p> + Idaho bought a new ‘gun,’ but he wore it ‘in his clothes,’ and used it + chiefly in the pastime of shooting out the lights or in picking off the + heels from the boys’ boots while a stag dance was in progress in Slavin’s. + But in Stonewall’s presence Idaho was a most correct citizen. Stonewall he + could understand and appreciate. He was six feet three, and had an eye of + unpleasant penetration. But this new feeling in the community for + respectability he could neither understand nor endure. The League became + the object of his indignant aversion, and the League men of his contempt. + He had many sympathisers, and frequent were the assaults upon the + newly-born sobriety of Billy Breen and others of the League. But Geordie’s + watchful care and Mrs. Mavor’s steady influence, together with the loyal + co-operation of the League men, kept Billy safe so far. Nixon, too, was a + marked man. It may be that he carried himself with unnecessary jauntiness + toward Slavin and Idaho, saluting the former with, ‘Awful dry weather! eh, + Slavin?’ and the latter with, ‘Hello, old sport! how’s times?’ causing + them to swear deeply; and, as it turned out, to do more than swear. + </p> + <p> + But on the whole the anti-League men were in favour of a respectable ball, + and most of the League men determined to show their appreciation of the + concession of the committee to the principles of the League in the + important matter of refreshments by attending in force. + </p> + <p> + Nixon would not go. However jauntily he might talk, he could not trust + himself, as he said, where whisky was flowing, for it got into his nose + ‘like a fish-hook into a salmon.’ He was from Nova Scotia. For like + reason, Vernon Winton, the young Oxford fellow, would not go. When they + chaffed, his lips grew a little thinner, and the colour deepened in his + handsome face, but he went on his way. Geordie despised the ‘hale + hypothick’ as a ‘daft ploy,’ and the spending of five dollars upon a + ticket he considered a ‘sinfu’ waste o’ guid siller’; and he warned Billy + against ‘coontenancin’ ony sic redeeklus nonsense.’ + </p> + <p> + But no one expected Billy to go; although the last two months he had done + wonders for his personal appearance, and for his position in the social + scale as well. They all knew what a fight he was making, and esteemed him + accordingly. How well I remember the pleased pride in his face when he + told me in the afternoon of the committee’s urgent request that he should + join the orchestra with his ‘cello! It was not simply that his ‘cello was + his joy and pride, but he felt it to be a recognition of his return to + respectability. + </p> + <p> + I have often wondered how things combine at times to a man’s destruction. + </p> + <p> + Had Mr. Craig not been away at the Landing that week, had Geordie not been + on the night-shift, had Mrs. Mavor not been so occupied with the care of + her sick child, it may be Billy might have been saved his fall. + </p> + <p> + The anticipation of the ball stirred Black Rock and the camps with a + thrill of expectant delight. Nowadays, when I find myself forced to leave + my quiet smoke in my studio after dinner at the call of some social + engagement which I have failed to elude, I groan at my hard lot, and I + wonder as I look back and remember the pleasurable anticipation with which + I viewed the approaching ball. But I do not wonder now any more than I did + then at the eager delight of the men who for seven days in the week swung + their picks up in the dark breasts of the mines, or who chopped and sawed + among the solitary silences of the great forests. Any break in the long + and weary monotony was welcome; what mattered the cost or consequence! To + the rudest and least cultured of them the sameness of the life must have + been hard to bear; but what it was to men who had seen life in its most + cultured and attractive forms I fail to imagine. From the mine, black and + foul, to the shack, bare, cheerless, and sometimes hideously repulsive, + life swung in heart-grinding monotony till the longing for a ‘big drink’ + or some other ‘big break’ became too great to bear. + </p> + <p> + It was well on towards evening when Sandy’s four horse team, with a load + of men from the woods, came swinging round the curves of the mountain-road + and down the street. A gay crowd they were with their bright, brown faces + and hearty voices; and in ten minutes the whole street seemed alive with + lumbermen—they had a faculty of spreading themselves so. After night + fell the miners came down ‘done up slick,’ for this was a great occasion, + and they must be up to it. The manager appeared in evening dress; but this + was voted ‘too giddy’ by the majority. + </p> + <p> + As Graeme and I passed up to the Black Rock Hotel, in the large store-room + of which the ball was to be held, we met old man Nelson looking very + grave. + </p> + <p> + ‘Going, Nelson, aren’t you?’ I said. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ he answered slowly; ‘I’ll drop in, though I don’t like the look of + things much.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s the matter, Nelson?’ asked Graeme cheerily. ‘There’s no funeral + on.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Perhaps not,’ replied Nelson, ‘but I wish Mr. Craig were home.’ And then + he added, ‘There’s Idaho and Slavin together, and you may bet the devil + isn’t far off.’ + </p> + <p> + But Graeme laughed at his suspicion, and we passed on. The orchestra was + tuning up. There were two violins, a concertina, and the ‘cello. Billy + Breen was lovingly fingering his instrument, now and then indulging + himself in a little snatch of some air that came to him out of his happier + past. He looked perfectly delighted, and as I paused to listen he gave me + a proud glance out of his deep, little, blue eyes, and went on playing + softly to himself. Presently Shaw came along. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s good, Billy,’ he called out. ‘You’ve got the trick yet, I see.’ + </p> + <p> + But Billy only nodded and went on playing. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where’s Nixon?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Gone to bed,’ said Shaw, ‘and I am glad of it. He finds that the safest + place on pay-day afternoon. The boys don’t bother him there.’ + </p> + <p> + The dancing-room was lined on two sides with beer-barrels and whisky-kegs; + at one end the orchestra sat, at the other was a table with refreshments, + where the ‘soft drinks’ might be had. Those who wanted anything else might + pass through a short passage into the bar just behind. + </p> + <p> + This was evidently a superior kind of ball, for the men kept on their + coats, and went through the various figures with faces of unnatural + solemnity. But the strain upon their feelings was quite apparent, and it + became a question how long it could be maintained. As the trips through + the passage-way became more frequent the dancing grew in vigour and + hilarity, until by the time supper was announced the stiffness had + sufficiently vanished to give no further anxiety to the committee. + </p> + <p> + But the committee had other cause for concern, inasmuch as after supper + certain of the miners appeared with their coats off, and proceeded to + ‘knock the knots out of the floor’ in break-down dances of extraordinary + energy. These, however, were beguiled into the bar-room and ‘filled up’ + for safety, for the committee were determined that the respectability of + the ball should be preserved to the end. Their reputation was at stake, + not in Black Rock only, but at the Landing as well, from which most of the + ladies had come; and to be shamed in the presence of the Landing people + could not be borne. Their difficulties seemed to be increasing, for at + this point something seemed to go wrong with the orchestra. The ‘cello + appeared to be wandering aimlessly up and down the scale, occasionally + picking up the tune with animation, and then dropping it. As Billy saw me + approaching, he drew himself up with great solemnity, gravely winked at + me, and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Shlipped a cog, Mishter Connor! Mosh hunfortunate! Beauchiful + hinstrument, but shlips a cog. Mosh hunfortunate!’ + </p> + <p> + And he wagged his little head sagely, playing all the while for dear life, + now second and now lead. + </p> + <p> + Poor Billy! I pitied him, but I thought chiefly of the beautiful, eager + face that leaned towards him the night the League was made, and of the + bright voice that said, ‘You’ll sign with me, Billy?’ and it seemed to me + a cruel deed to make him lose his grip of life and hope; for this is what + the pledge meant to him. + </p> + <p> + While I was trying to get Billy away to some safe place, I heard a great + shouting in the direction of the bar, followed by trampling and scuffling + of feet in the passage-way. Suddenly a man burst through, crying— + </p> + <p> + ‘Let me go! Stand back! I know what I’m about!’ + </p> + <p> + It was Nixon, dressed in his best; black clothes, blue shirt, red tie, + looking handsome enough, but half-drunk and wildly excited. The highland + Fling competition was on at the moment, and Angus Campbell, Lachlan’s + brother, was representing the lumber camps in the contest. Nixon looked on + approvingly for a few moments, then with a quick movement he seized the + little Highlander, swung him in his powerful arms clean off the floor, and + deposited him gently upon a beer-barrel. Then he stepped into the centre + of the room, bowed to the judges, and began a sailor’s hornpipe. + </p> + <p> + The committee were perplexed, but after deliberation they decided to + humour the new competitor, especially as they knew that Nixon with whisky + in him was unpleasant to cross. + </p> + <p> + Lightly and gracefully he went through his steps, the men crowding in from + the bar to admire, for Nixon was famed for his hornpipe. But when, after + the hornpipe, he proceeded to execute a clog-dance, garnished with + acrobatic feats, the committee interfered. There were cries of ‘Put him + out!’ and ‘Let him alone! Go on, Nixon!’ And Nixon hurled back into the + crowd two of the committee who had laid remonstrating hands upon him, and, + standing in the open centre, cried out scornfully— + </p> + <p> + ‘Put me out! Put me out! Certainly! Help yourselves! Don’t mind me!’ Then + grinding his teeth, so that I heard them across the room, he added with + savage deliberation, ‘If any man lays a finger on me, I’ll—I’ll eat + his liver cold.’ + </p> + <p> + He stood for a few moments glaring round upon the company, and then strode + toward the bar, followed by the crowd wildly yelling. The ball was + forthwith broken up. I looked around for Billy, but he was nowhere to be + seen. Graeme touched my arm— + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s going to be something of a time, so just keep your eyes skinned.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What are you going to do?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do? Keep myself beautifully out of trouble,’ he replied. + </p> + <p> + In a few moments the crowd came surging back headed by Nixon, who was + waving a whisky-bottle over his head and yelling as one possessed. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hello!’ exclaimed Graeme softly, ‘I begin to see. Look there!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s up?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘You see Idaho and Slavin and their pets,’ he replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘They’ve got poor Nixon in tow. Idaho is rather nasty,’ he added, ‘but I + think I’ll take a hand in this game; I’ve seen some of Idaho’s work + before.’ + </p> + <p> + The scene was one quite strange to me, and was wild beyond description. A + hundred men filled the room. Bottles were passed from hand to hand, and + men drank their fill. Behind the refreshment-tables stood the hotelman and + his barkeeper with their coats off and sleeves rolled up to the shoulder, + passing out bottles, and drawing beer and whisky from two kegs hoisted up + for that purpose. Nixon was in his glory. It was his night. Every man was + to get drunk at his expense, he proclaimed, flinging down bills upon the + table. Near him were some League men he was treating liberally, and never + far away were Idaho and Slavin passing bottles, but evidently drinking + little. + </p> + <p> + I followed Graeme, not feeling too comfortable, for this sort of thing was + new to me, but admiring the cool assurance with which he made his way + through the crowd that swayed and yelled and swore and laughed in a most + disconcerting manner. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hello!’ shouted Nixon as he caught sight of Graeme. ‘Here you are!’ + passing him a bottle. ‘You’re a knocker, a double-handed front door + knocker. You polished off old whisky-soak here, old demijohn,’ pointing to + Slavin, ‘and I’ll lay five to one we can lick any blankety blank thieves + in the crowd,’ and he held up a roll of bills. + </p> + <p> + But Graeme proposed that he should give the hornpipe again, and the floor + was cleared at once, for Nixon’s hornpipe was very popular, and tonight, + of course, was in high favour. In the midst of his dance Nixon stopped + short, his arms dropped to his side, his face had a look of fear, of + horror. + </p> + <p> + There, before him, in his riding-cloak and boots, with his whip in his + hand as he had come from his ride, stood Mr. Craig. His face was pallid, + and his dark eyes were blazing with fierce light. As Nixon stopped, Craig + stepped forward to him, and sweeping his eyes round upon the circle he + said in tones intense with scorn— + </p> + <p> + ‘You cowards! You get a man where he’s weak! Cowards! you’d damn his soul + for his money!’ + </p> + <p> + There was dead silence, and Craig, lifting his hat, said solemnly— + </p> + <p> + ‘May God forgive you this night’s work!’ + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to Nixon, and throwing his arm over his shoulder, he said in + a voice broken and husky— + </p> + <p> + ‘Come on, Nixon! we’ll go!’ + </p> + <p> + Idaho made a motion as if to stop him, but Graeme stepped quickly foreword + and said sharply, ‘Make way there, can’t you?’ and the crowd fell back and + we four passed through, Nixon walking as in a dream, with Craig’s arm + about him. Down the street we went in silence, and on to Craig’s shack, + where we found old man Nelson, with the fire blazing, and strong coffee + steaming on the stove. It was he that had told Craig, on his arrival from + the Landing, of Nixon’s fall. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing of reproach, but only gentlest pity, in tone and touch + as Craig placed the half-drunk, dazed man in his easy-chair, took off his + boots, brought him his own slippers, and gave him coffee. Then, as his + stupor began to overcome him, Craig put him in his own bed, and came forth + with a face written over with grief. + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t mind, old chap,’ said Graeme kindly. + </p> + <p> + But Craig looked at him without a word, and, throwing himself into a + chair, put his face in his hands. As we sat there in silence the door was + suddenly pushed open and in walked Abe Baker with the words, ‘Where is + Nixon?’ and we told him where he was. We were still talking when again a + tap came to the door, and Shaw came in looking much disturbed. + </p> + <p> + ‘Did you hear about Nixon?’ he asked. We told him what we knew. + </p> + <p> + ‘But did you hear how they got him?’ he asked, excitedly. + </p> + <p> + As he told us the tale, the men stood listening, with faces growing hard. + </p> + <p> + It appeared that after the making of the League the Black Rock Hotel man + had bet Idaho one hundred to fifty that Nixon could not be got to drink + before Easter. All Idaho’s schemes had failed, and now he had only three + days in which to win his money, and the ball was his last chance. Here + again he was balked, for Nixon, resisting all entreaties, barred his shack + door and went to bed before nightfall, according to his invariable custom + on pay-days. At midnight some of Idaho’s men came battering at the door + for admission, which Nixon reluctantly granted. For half an hour they used + every art of persuasion to induce him to go down to the ball, the glorious + success of which was glowingly depicted; but Nixon remained immovable, and + they took their departure, baffled and cursing. In two hours they returned + drunk enough to be dangerous, kicked at the door in vain, finally gained + entrance through the window, hauled Nixon out of bed, and, holding a glass + of whisky to his lips, bade him drink. But he knocked the glass sway, + spilling the liquor over himself and the bed. + </p> + <p> + It was drink or fight, and Nixon was ready to fight; but after parley they + had a drink all round, and fell to persuasion again. The night was cold, + and poor Nixon sat shivering on the edge of his bed. If he would take one + drink they would leave him alone. He need not show himself so stiff. The + whisky fumes filled his nostrils. If one drink would get them off, surely + that was better than fighting and killing some one or getting killed. He + hesitated, yielded, drank his glass. They sat about him amiably drinking, + and lauding him as a fine fellow after all. One more glass before they + left. Then Nixon rose, dressed himself, drank all that was left of the + bottle, put his money in his pocket, and came down to the dance, wild with + his old-time madness, reckless of faith and pledge, forgetful of home, + wife, babies, his whole being absorbed in one great passion—to drink + and drink and drink till he could drink no more. + </p> + <p> + Before Shaw had finished his tale, Craig’s eyes were streaming with tears, + and groans of rage and pity broke alternately from him. Abe remained + speechless for a time, not trusting himself; but as he heard Craig groan, + ‘Oh, the beasts! the fiends!’ he seemed encouraged to let himself loose, + and he began swearing with the coolest and most blood-curdling + deliberation. Craig listened with evident approval, apparently finding + complete satisfaction in Abe’s performance, when suddenly he seemed to + waken up, caught Abe by the arm, and said in a horror-stricken voice— + </p> + <p> + ‘Stop! stop! God forgive us! we must not swear like this.’ + </p> + <p> + Abe stopped at once, and in a surprised and slightly grieved voice said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Why! what’s the matter with that? Ain’t that what you wanted?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes! yes! God forgive me! I am afraid it was,’ he answered hurriedly; + ‘but I must not.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, don’t you worry,’ went on Abe cheerfully; ‘I’ll look after that part; + and anyway, ain’t they the blankest blankety blank’—going off again + into a roll of curses, till Craig, in an agony of entreaty, succeeded in + arresting the flow of profanity possible to no one but a mountain + stage-driver. Abe paused looking hurt, and asked if they did not deserve + everything he was calling down upon them. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, yes,’ urged Craig; ‘but that is not our business.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well! so I reckoned,’ replied Abe, recognising the limitations of the + cloth; ‘you ain’t used to it, and you can’t be expected to do it; but it + just makes me feel good—let out o’ school like—to properly do + ‘em up, the blank, blank,’ and off he went again. It was only under the + pressure of Mr. Craig’s prayers and commands that he finally agreed ‘to + hold in, though it was tough.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s to be done?’ asked Shaw. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nothing,’ answered Craig bitterly. He was exhausted with his long ride + from the Landing, and broken with bitter disappointment over the ruin of + all that he had laboured so long to accomplish. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nonsense,’ said Graeme; ‘there’s a good deal to do.’ + </p> + <p> + It was agreed that Craig should remain with Nixon while the others of us + should gather up what fragments we could find of the broken League. We had + just opened the door, when we met a man striding up at a great pace. It + was Geordie Crawford. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hae ye seen the lad?’ was his salutation. No one replied. So I told + Geordie of my last sight of Billy in the orchestra. + </p> + <p> + ‘An’ did ye no’ gang aifter him?’ he asked in indignant surprise, adding + with some contempt, ‘Man! but ye’re a feckless buddie.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Billy gone too!’ said Shaw. ‘They might have let Billy alone.’ + </p> + <p> + Poor Craig stood in a dumb agony. Billy’s fall seemed more than he could + bear. We went out, leaving him heart-broken amid the ruins of his League. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE LEAGUE’S REVENGE + </h3> + <p> + As we stood outside of Craig’s shack in the dim starlight, we could not + hide from ourselves that we were beaten. It was not so much grief as a + blind fury that filled my heart, and looking at the faces of the men about + me I read the same feeling there. But what could we do? The yells of + carousing miners down at Slavin’s told us that nothing could be done with + them that night. To be so utterly beaten, and unfairly, and with no chance + of revenge, was maddening. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’d like to get back at ‘em,’ said Abe, carefully repressing himself. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve got it, men,’ said Graeme suddenly. ‘This town does not require all + the whisky there is in it’; and he unfolded his plan. It was to gain + possession of Slavin’s saloon and the bar of the Black Rock Hotel, and + clear out all the liquor to be found in both these places. I did not much + like the idea; and Geordie said, ‘I’m ga’en aifter the lad; I’ll hae + naethin’ tae dae wi’ yon. It’s’ no’ that easy, an’ it’s a sinfu’ waste.’ + </p> + <p> + But Abe was wild to try it, and Shaw was quite willing, while old Nelson + sternly approved. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nelson, you and Shaw get a couple of our men and attend to the saloon. + Slavin and the whole gang are up at the Black Rock, so you won’t have much + trouble; but come to us as soon as you can.’ + </p> + <p> + And so we went our ways. + </p> + <p> + Then followed a scene the like of which I can never hope to see again, and + it was worth a man’s seeing. But there were times that night when I wished + I had not agreed to follow Graeme in his plot. As we went up to the hotel, + I asked Graeme, ‘What about the law of this?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Law!’ he replied indignantly. ‘They haven’t troubled much about law in + the whisky business here. They get a keg of high wines and some drugs and + begin operations. No!’ he went on; ‘if we can get the crowd out, and + ourselves in, we’ll make them break the law in getting us out. The law + won’t trouble us over smuggled whisky. It will be a great lark, and they + won’t crow too loud over the League.’ + </p> + <p> + I did not like the undertaking at first; but as I thought of the whole + wretched illegal business flourishing upon the weakness of the men in the + mines and camps, whom I had learned to regard as brothers, and especially + as I thought of the cowards that did for Nixon, I let my scruples go, and + determined, with Abe, ‘to get back at ‘em.’ + </p> + <p> + We had no difficulty getting them out. Abe began to yell. Some men rushed + out to learn the cause. He seized the foremost man, making a hideous + uproar all the while, and in three minutes had every man out of the hotel + and a lively row going on. + </p> + <p> + In two minutes more Graeme and I had the door to the ball-room locked and + barricaded with empty casks. We then closed the door of the bar-room + leading to the outside. The bar-room was a strongly built log-shack, with + a heavy door secured, after the manner of the early cabins, with two + strong oak bars, so that we felt safe from attack from that quarter. + </p> + <p> + The ball-room we could not hold long, for the door was slight and entrance + was possible through the windows. But as only a few casks of liquor were + left there, our main work would be in the bar, so that the fight would be + to hold the passage-way. This we barricaded with casks and tables. But by + this time the crowd had begun to realise what had happened, and were + wildly yelling at door and windows. With an axe which Graeme had brought + with him the casks were soon stove in, and left to empty themselves. + </p> + <p> + As I was about to empty the last cask, Graeme stopped me, saying, ‘Let + that stand here. It will help us.’ And so it did. ‘Now skip for the + barricade,’ yelled Graeme, as a man came crashing through the window. + Before he could regain his feet, however, Graeme had seized him and flung + him out upon the heads of the crowd outside. But through the other windows + men were coming in, and Graeme rushed for the barricade, followed by two + of the enemy, the foremost of whom I received at the top and hurled back + upon the others. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, be quick!’ said Graeme; ‘I’ll hold this. Don’t break any bottles on + the floor—throw them out there,’ pointing to a little window high up + in the wall. + </p> + <p> + I made all haste. The casks did not take much time, and soon the whisky + and beer were flowing over the floor. It made me think of Geordie’s regret + over the ‘sinfu’ waste.’ The bottles took longer, and glancing up now and + then I saw that Graeme was being hard pressed. Men would leap, two and + three at a time, upon the barricade, and Graeme’s arms would shoot out, + and over they would topple upon the heads of those nearest. It was a great + sight to see him standing alone with a smile on his face and the light of + battle in his eye, coolly meeting his assailants with those terrific, + lightning-like blows. In fifteen minutes my work was done. + </p> + <p> + ‘What next?’ I asked. ‘How do we get out?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How is the door?’ he replied. + </p> + <p> + I looked through the port-hole and said, ‘A crowd of men waiting.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We’ll have to make a dash for it, I fancy,’ he replied cheerfully, though + his face was covered with blood and his breath was coming in short gasps. + </p> + <p> + ‘Get down the bars and be ready.’ But even as he spoke a chair hurled from + below caught him on the arm, and before he could recover, a man had + cleared the barricade and was upon him like a tiger. It was Idaho Jack. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hold the barricade,’ Graeme called out, as they both went down. + </p> + <p> + I sprang to his place, but I had not much hope of holding it long. I had + the heavy oak bar of the door in my hands, and swinging it round my head I + made the crowd give back for a few moments. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Graeme had shaken off his enemy, who was circling about him upon + his tip-toes, with a long knife in his hand, waiting for a chance to + spring. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have been waiting for this for some time, Mr. Graeme,’ he said smiling. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ replied Graeme, ‘ever since I spoiled your cut-throat game in + ‘Frisco. How is the little one?’ he added sarcastically. + </p> + <p> + Idaho’s face lost its smile and became distorted with fury as he replied, + spitting out his words, ‘She—is—where you will be before I am + done with you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! you murdered her too! You’ll hang some beautiful day, Idaho,’ said + Graeme, as Idaho sprang upon him. + </p> + <p> + Graeme dodged his blow and caught his forearm with his left hand and held + up high the murderous knife. Back and forward they swayed over the floor, + slippery with whisky, the knife held high in the air. I wondered why + Graeme did not strike, and then I saw his right hand hung limp from the + wrist. The men were crowding upon the barricade. I was in despair. + Graeme’s strength was going fast. With a yell of exultant fury Idaho threw + himself with all his weight upon Graeme, who could only cling to him. They + swayed together towards me, but as they fell I brought down my bar upon + the upraised hand and sent the knife flying across the room. Idaho’s howl + of rage and pain was mingled with a shout from below, and there, dashing + the crowd right and left, came old Nelson, followed by Abe, Sandy, + Baptiste, Shaw, and others. As they reached the barricade it crashed down + and, carrying me with it, pinned me fast. + </p> + <p> + Looking out between the barrels, I saw what froze my heart with horror. In + the fall Graeme had wound his arms about his enemy and held him in a grip + so deadly that he could not strike; but Graeme’s strength was failing, and + when I looked I saw that Idaho was slowly dragging both across the + slippery floor to where the knife lay. Nearer and nearer his outstretched + fingers came to the knife. In vain I yelled and struggled. My voice was + lost in the awful din, and the barricade held me fast. Above me, standing + on a barrel-head, was Baptiste, yelling like a demon. In vain I called to + him. My fingers could just reach his foot, and he heeded not at all my + touch. Slowly Idaho was dragging his almost unconscious victim toward the + knife. His fingers were touching the blade point, when, under a sudden + inspiration, I pulled out my penknife, opened it with my teeth, and drove + the blade into Baptiste’s foot. With a blood-curdling yell he sprang down + and began dancing round in his rage, peering among the barrels. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look! look!’ I was calling in agony, and pointing; ‘for heaven’s sake, + look! Baptiste!’ + </p> + <p> + The fingers had closed upon the knife, the knife was already high in the + air, when, with a shriek, Baptiste cleared the room at a bound, and, + before the knife could fall, the little Frenchman’s boot had caught the + uplifted wrist, and sent the knife flying to the wall. + </p> + <p> + Then there was a great rushing sound as of wind through the forest, and + the lights went out. When I awoke, I found myself lying with my head on + Graeme’s knees, and Baptiste sprinkling snow on my face. As I looked up + Graeme leaned over me, and, smiling down into my eyes, he said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Good boy! It was a great fight, and we put it up well’; and then he + whispered, ‘I owe you my life, my boy.’ + </p> + <p> + His words thrilled my heart through and through, for I loved him as only + men can love men; but I only answered— + </p> + <p> + ‘I could not keep them back.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It was well done,’ he said; and I felt proud. I confess I was thankful to + be so well out of it, for Graeme got off with a bone in his wrist broken, + and I with a couple of ribs cracked; but had it not been for the open + barrel of whisky which kept them occupied for a time, offering too good a + chance to be lost, and for the timely arrival of Nelson, neither of us had + ever seen the light again. + </p> + <p> + We found Craig sound asleep upon his couch. His consternation on waking to + see us torn, bruised, and bloody was laughable; but he hastened to find us + warm water and bandages, and we soon felt comfortable. + </p> + <p> + Baptiste was radiant with pride and light over the fight, and hovered + about Graeme and me giving vent to his feelings in admiring French and + English expletives. But Abe was disgusted because of the failure at + Slavin’s; for when Nelson looked in, he saw Slavin’s French-Canadian wife + in charge, with her baby on her lap, and he came back to Shaw and said, + ‘Come away, we can’t touch this’; and Shaw, after looking in, agreed that + nothing could be done. A baby held the fort. + </p> + <p> + As Craig listened to the account of the fight, he tried hard not to + approve, but he could not keep the gleam out of his eyes; and as I + pictured Graeme dashing back the crowd thronging the barricade till he was + brought down by the chair, Craig laughed gently, and put his hand on + Graeme’s knee. And as I went on to describe my agony while Idaho’s fingers + were gradually nearing the knife, his face grew pale and his eyes grew + wide with horror. + </p> + <p> + ‘Baptiste here did the business,’ I said, and the little Frenchman nodded + complacently and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Dat’s me for sure.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘By the way, how is your foot?’ asked Graeme. + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s fuss-rate. Dat’s what you call—one bite of—of—dat + leel bees, he’s dere, you put your finger dere, he’s not dere!—what + you call him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Flea!’ I suggested. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oui!’ cried Baptiste. ‘Dat’s one bite of flea.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was thankful I was under the barrels,’ I replied, smiling. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oui! Dat’s mak’ me ver mad. I jump an’ swear mos’ awful bad. Dat’s pardon + me, M’sieu Craig, heh?’ + </p> + <p> + But Craig only smiled at him rather sadly. ‘It was awfully risky,’ he said + to Graeme, ‘and it was hardly worth it. They’ll get more whisky, and + anyway the League is gone.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said Graeme with a sigh of satisfaction, ‘it is not quite such a + one-sided affair as it was.’ + </p> + <p> + And we could say nothing in reply, for we could hear Nixon snoring in the + next room, and no one had heard of Billy, and there were others of the + League that we knew were even now down at Slavin’s. It was thought best + that all should remain in Mr. Craig’s shack, not knowing what might + happen; and so we lay where we could and we needed none to sing us to + sleep. + </p> + <p> + When I awoke, stiff and sore, it was to find breakfast ready and old man + Nelson in charge. As we were seated, Craig came in, and I saw that he was + not the man of the night before. His courage had come back, his face was + quiet and his eye clear; he was his own man again. + </p> + <p> + ‘Geordie has been out all night, but has failed to find Billy,’ he + announced quietly. + </p> + <p> + We did not talk much; Graeme and I worried with our broken bones, and the + others suffered from a general morning depression. But, after breakfast, + as the men were beginning to move, Craig took down his Bible, and saying— + </p> + <p> + ‘Wait a few minutes, men!’ he read slowly, in his beautiful clear voice, + that psalm for all fighters— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘God is our refuge and strength,’ +</pre> + <p> + and soon to the noble words— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘The Lord of Hosts is with us; + The God of Jacob is our refuge.’ +</pre> + <p> + How the mighty words pulled us together, lifted us till we grew ashamed of + our ignoble rage and of our ignoble depression! + </p> + <p> + And then Craig prayed in simple, straight-going words. There was + acknowledgement of failure, but I knew he was thinking chiefly of himself; + and there was gratitude, and that was for the men about him, and I felt my + face burn with shame; and there was petition for help, and we all thought + of Nixon, and Billy, and the men wakening from their debauch at Slavin’s + this pure, bright morning. And then he asked that we might be made + faithful and worthy of God, whose battle it was. Then we all stood up and + shook hands with him in silence, and every man knew a covenant was being + made. But none saw his meeting with Nixon. He sent us all away before + that. + </p> + <p> + Nothing was heard of the destruction of the hotel stock-in-trade. + Unpleasant questions would certainly be asked, and the proprietor decided + to let bad alone. On the point of respectability the success of the ball + was not conspicuous, but the anti-League men were content, if not + jubilant. + </p> + <p> + Billy Breen was found by Geordie late in the afternoon in his own old and + deserted shack, breathing heavily, covered up in his filthy, mouldering + bed-clothes, with a half-empty bottle of whisky at his side. Geordie’s + grief and rage were beyond even his Scotch control. He spoke few words, + but these were of such concentrated vehemence that no one felt the need of + Abe’s assistance in vocabulary. + </p> + <p> + Poor Billy! We carried him to Mrs. Mavor’s home; put him in a warm bath, + rolled him in blankets, and gave him little sips of hot water, then of hot + milk and coffee; as I had seen a clever doctor in the hospital treat a + similar case of nerve and heart depression. But the already weakened + system could not recover from the awful shock of the exposure following + the debauch; and on Sunday afternoon we saw that his heart was failing + fast. All day the miners had been dropping in to inquire after him, for + Billy had been a great favourite in other days, and the attention of the + town had been admiringly centred upon his fight of these last weeks. It + was with no ordinary sorrow that the news of his condition was received. + As Mrs. Mavor sang to him, his large coarse hands moved in time to the + music, but he did not open his eyes till he heard Mr. Craig’s voice in the + next room; then he spoke his name, and Mr. Craig was kneeling beside him + in a moment. The words came slowly— + </p> + <p> + ‘Oi tried—to fight it hout—but—-oi got beaten. Hit ‘urts + to think ‘E’s hashamed o’ me. Oi’d like t’a done better—oi would.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ashamed of you, Billy!’ said Craig, in a voice that broke. ‘Not He.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘An’—ye hall—‘elped me so!’ he went on. ‘Oi wish oi’d ‘a done + better—oi do,’ and his eyes sought Geordie, and then rested on Mrs. + Mavor, who smiled back at him with a world of love in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘You hain’t hashamed o’ me—yore heyes saigh so,’ he said looking at + her. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, Billy,’ she said, and I wondered at her steady voice, ‘not a bit. + Why, Billy, I am proud of you.’ + </p> + <p> + He gazed up at her with wonder and ineffable love in his little eyes, then + lifted his hand slightly toward her. She knelt quickly and took it in both + of hers, stroking it and kissing it. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oi haught t’a done better. Oi’m hawful sorry oi went back on ‘Im. Hit was + the lemonaide. The boys didn’t mean no ‘arm—but hit started the ‘ell + hinside.’ + </p> + <p> + Geordie hurled out some bitter words. + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t be ‘ard on ‘em, Geordie; they didn’t mean no ‘arm,’ he said, and + his eyes kept waiting till Geordie said hurriedly— + </p> + <p> + ‘Na! na! lad—a’ll juist leave them till the Almichty.’ + </p> + <p> + Then Mrs. Mavor sang softly, smoothing his hand, ‘Just as I am,’ and Billy + dozed quietly for half an hour. + </p> + <p> + When he awoke again his eyes turned to Mr. Craig, and they were troubled + and anxious. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oi tried ‘ard. Oi wanted to win,’ he struggled to say. By this time Craig + was master of himself, and he answered in a clear, distinct voice— + </p> + <p> + ‘Listen, Billy! You made a great fight, and you are going to win yet. And + besides, do you remember the sheep that got lost over the mountains?’—this + parable was Billy’s special delight—‘He didn’t beat it when He got + it, did he? He took it in His arms and carried it home. And so He will + you.’ + </p> + <p> + And Billy, keeping his eyes fastened on Mr. Craig, simply said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Will ‘E?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sure!’ said Craig. + </p> + <p> + ‘Will ‘E?’ he repeated, turning his eyes upon Mrs. Mavor. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, yes, Billy,’ she answered cheerily, though the tears were streaming + from her eyes. ‘I would, and He loves you far more.’ + </p> + <p> + He looked at her, smiled, and closed his eyes. I put my hand on his heart; + it was fluttering feebly. Again a troubled look passed over his face. + </p> + <p> + ‘My—poor—hold—mother,’ he whispered, ‘she’s—hin—the—wukus.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall take care of her, Billy,’ said Mrs. Mavor, in a clear voice, and + again Billy smiled. Then he turned his eyes to Mr. Craig, and from him to + Geordie, and at last to Mrs. Mavor, where they rested. She bent over and + kissed him twice on the forehead. + </p> + <p> + ‘Tell ‘er,’ he said, with difficulty, ‘’E’s took me ‘ome.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, Billy!’ she cried, gazing into his glazing eyes. He tried to lift + her hand. She kissed him again. He drew one deep breath and lay quite + still. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank the blessed Saviour!’ said Mr. Craig, reverently. ‘He has taken him + home.’ + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Mavor held the dead hand tight and sobbed out passionately, ‘Oh, + Billy, Billy! you helped me once when I needed help! I cannot forget!’ + </p> + <p> + And Geordie, groaning, ‘Ay, laddie, laddie,’ passed out into the fading + light of the early evening. + </p> + <p> + Next day no one went to work, for to all it seemed a sacred day. They + carried him into the little church, and there Mr. Craig spoke of his long, + hard fight, and of his final victory; for he died without a fear, and with + love to the men who, not knowing, had been his death. And there was no + bitterness in any heart, for Mr. Craig read the story of the sheep, and + told how gently He had taken Billy home; but, though no word was spoken, + it was there the League was made again. + </p> + <p> + They laid him under the pines, beside Lewis Mavor; and the miners threw + sprigs of evergreen into the open grave. When Slavin, sobbing bitterly, + brought his sprig, no one stopped him, though all thought it strange. + </p> + <p> + As we turned to leave the grave, the light from the evening sun came + softly through the gap in the mountains, and, filling the valley, touched + the trees and the little mound beneath with glory. And I thought of that + other glory, which is brighter than the sun, and was not sorry that poor + Billy’s weary fight was over; and I could not help agreeing with Craig + that it was there the League had its revenge. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN + </h3> + <p> + Billy Breen’s legacy to the Black Rock mining camp was a new League, which + was more than the old League re-made. The League was new in its spirit and + in its methods. The impression made upon the camp by Billy Breen’s death + was very remarkable, and I have never been quite able to account for it. + The mood of the community at the time was peculiarly susceptible. Billy + was one of the oldest of the old-timers. His decline and fall had been a + long process, and his struggle for life and manhood was striking enough to + arrest the attention and awaken the sympathy of the whole camp. We + instinctively side with a man in his struggle for freedom; for we feel + that freedom is native to him and to us. The sudden collapse of the + struggle stirred the men with a deep pity for the beaten man, and a deep + contempt for those who had tricked him to his doom. But though the pity + and the contempt remained, the gloom was relieved and the sense of defeat + removed from the men’s minds by the transforming glory of Billy’s last + hour. Mr. Craig, reading of the tragedy of Billy’s death, transfigured + defeat into victory, and this was generally accepted by the men as the + true reading, though to them it was full of mystery. But they could all + understand and appreciate at full value the spirit that breathed through + the words of the dying man: ‘Don’t be ‘ard on ‘em, they didn’t mean no + ‘arm.’ And this was the new spirit of the League. + </p> + <p> + It was this spirit that surprised Slavin into sudden tears at the grave’s + side. He had come braced for curses and vengeance, for all knew it was he + who had doctored Billy’s lemonade, and instead of vengeance the message + from the dead that echoed through the voice of the living was one of pity + and forgiveness. + </p> + <p> + But the days of the League’s negative, defensive warfare were over. The + fight was to the death, and now the war was to be carried into the enemy’s + country. The League men proposed a thoroughly equipped and well-conducted + coffee-room, reading-room, and hall, to parallel the enemy’s lines of + operation, and defeat them with their own weapons upon their own ground. + The main outlines of the scheme were clearly defined and were easily seen, + but the perfecting of the details called for all Craig’s tact and good + sense. When, for instance, Vernon Winton, who had charge of the + entertainment department, came for Craig’s opinion as to a minstrel troupe + and private theatricals, Craig was prompt with his answer— + </p> + <p> + ‘Anything clean goes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A nigger show?’ asked Winton. + </p> + <p> + ‘Depends upon the niggers,’ replied Craig with a gravely comic look, + shrewdly adding, ‘ask Mrs. Mavor’; and so the League Minstrel and Dramatic + Company became an established fact, and proved, as Craig afterwards told + me, ‘a great means of grace to the camp.’ + </p> + <p> + Shaw had charge of the social department, whose special care it was to see + that the men were made welcome to the cosy, cheerful reading room, where + they might chat, smoke, read, write, or play games, according to fancy. + </p> + <p> + But Craig felt that the success or failure of the scheme would largely + depend upon the character of the Resident Manager, who, while caring for + reading-room and hall, would control and operate the important department + represented by the coffee-room. + </p> + <p> + ‘At this point the whole business may come to grief,’ he said to Mrs. + Mavor, without whose counsel nothing was done. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why come to grief?’ she asked brightly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Because if we don’t get the right man, that’s what will happen,’ he + replied in a tone that spoke of anxious worry. + </p> + <p> + ‘But we shall get the right man, never fear.’ Her serene courage never + faltered. ‘He will come to us.’ + </p> + <p> + Craig turned and gazed at her in frank admiration and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘If I only had your courage!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Courage!’ she answered quickly. ‘It is not for you to say that’; and at + his answering look the red came into her cheek and the depths in her eyes + glowed, and I marvelled and wondered, looking at Craig’s cool face, + whether his blood were running evenly through his veins. But his voice was + quiet, a shade too quiet I thought, as he gravely replied— + </p> + <p> + ‘I would often be a coward but for the shame of it.’ + </p> + <p> + And so the League waited for the man to come, who was to be Resident + Manager and make the new enterprise a success. And come he did; but the + manner of his coming was so extraordinary, that I have believed in the + doctrine of a special providence ever since; for as Craig said, ‘If he had + come straight from Heaven I could not have been more surprised.’ + </p> + <p> + While the League was thus waiting, its interest centred upon Slavin, + chiefly because he represented more than any other the forces of the + enemy; and though Billy Breen stood between him and the vengeance of the + angry men who would have made short work of him and his saloon, nothing + could save him from himself, and after the funeral Slavin went to his bar + and drank whisky as he had never drunk before. But the more he drank the + fiercer and gloomier he became, and when the men drinking with him chaffed + him, he swore deeply and with such threats that they left him alone. + </p> + <p> + It did not help Slavin either to have Nixon stride in through the crowd + drinking at his bar and give him words of warning. + </p> + <p> + ‘It is not your fault, Slavin,’ he said in slow, cool voice, ‘that you and + your precious crew didn’t sent me to my death, too. You’ve won your bet, + but I want to say, that next time, though you are seven to one, or ten + times that, when any of you boys offer me a drink I’ll take you to mean + fight, and I’ll not disappoint you, and some one will be killed,’ and so + saying he strode out again, leaving a mean-looking crowd of men behind + him. All who had not been concerned in the business at Nixon’s shack + expressed approval of his position, and hoped he would ‘see it through.’ + </p> + <p> + But the impression of Nixon’s words upon Slavin was as nothing compared + with that made by Geordie Crawford. It was not what he said so much as the + manner of awful solemnity he carried. Geordie was struggling + conscientiously to keep his promise to ‘not be ‘ard on the boys,’ and + found considerable relief in remembering that he had agreed ‘to leave them + tae the Almichty.’ But the manner of leaving them was so solemnly awful, + that I could not wonder that Slavin’s superstitious Irish nature supplied + him with supernatural terrors. It was the second day after the funeral + that Geordie and I were walking towards Slavin’s. There was a great shout + of laughter as we drew near. + </p> + <p> + Geordie stopped short, and saying, ‘We’ll juist gang in a meenute,’ passed + through the crowd and up to the bar. + </p> + <p> + ‘Michael Slavin,’ began Geordie, and the men stared in dead, silence, with + their glasses in their hands. ‘Michael Slavin, a’ promised the lad a’d + bear ye nae ill wull, but juist leave ye tae the Almichty; an’ I want tae + tell ye that a’m keepin’ ma wur-r-d. But’—and here he raised his + hand, and his voice became preternaturally solemn—‘his bluid is upon + yer han’s. Do ye no’ see it?’ + </p> + <p> + His voice rose sharply, and as he pointed, Slavin instinctively glanced at + his hands, and Geordie added— + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, and the Lord will require it o’ you and yer hoose.’ + </p> + <p> + They told me that Slavin shivered as if taken with ague after Geordie went + out, and though he laughed and swore, he did not stop drinking till he + sank into a drunken stupor and had to be carried to bed. His little + French-Canadian wife could not understand the change that had come over + her husband. + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s like one bear,’ she confided to Mrs. Mavor, to whom she was showing + her baby of a year old. ‘He’s not kees me one tam dis day. He’s mos hawful + bad, he’s not even look at de baby.’ And this seemed sufficient proof that + something was seriously wrong; for she went on to say— + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s tink more for dat leel baby dan for de whole worl’; he’s tink more + for dat baby dan for me,’ but she shrugged her pretty little shoulders in + deprecation of her speech. + </p> + <p> + ‘You must pray for him,’ said Mrs. Mavor, ‘and all will come right.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! madame!’ she replied earnestly, ‘every day, every day, I pray la + sainte Vierge et tous les saints for him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You must pray to your Father in heaven for him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! oui! I weel pray,’ and Mrs. Mavor sent her away bright with smiles, + and with new hope and courage in her heart. + </p> + <p> + She had very soon need of all her courage, for at the week’s end her baby + fell dangerously ill. Slavin’s anxiety and fear were not relieved much by + the reports the men brought him from time to time of Geordie’s ominous + forebodings; for Geordie had no doubt but that the Avenger of Blood was + hot upon Slavin’s trail; and as the sickness grew, he became confirmed in + this conviction. While he could not be said to find satisfaction in + Slavin’s impending affliction, he could hardly hide his complacency in the + promptness of Providence in vindicating his theory of retribution. + </p> + <p> + But Geordie’s complacency was somewhat rudely shocked by Mr. Craig’s + answer to his theory one day. + </p> + <p> + ‘You read your Bible to little profit, it seems to me, Geordie: or, + perhaps, you have never read the Master’s teaching about the Tower of + Siloam. Better read that and take that warning to yourself.’ + </p> + <p> + Geordie gazed after Mr. Craig as he turned away, and muttered— + </p> + <p> + ‘The toor o’ Siloam, is it? Ay, a’ ken fine aboot the toor o’ Siloam, and + aboot the toor o’ Babel as weel; an’ a’ve read, too, about the + blaspheemious Herod, an’ sic like. Man, but he’s a hot-heided laddie, and + lacks discreemeenation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What about Herod, Geordie?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Aboot Herod?’—with a strong tinge of contempt in his tone. ‘Aboot + Herod? Man, hae ye no’ read in the Screepturs aboot Herod an’ the wur-r-ms + in the wame o’ him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh yes, I see,’ I hastened to answer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ay, a fule can see what’s flapped in his face,’ with which bit of + proverbial philosophy he suddenly left me. But Geordie thenceforth + contented himself, in Mr. Craig’s presence at least, with ominous + head-shakings, equally aggravating, and impossible to answer. + </p> + <p> + That same night, however, Geordie showed that with all his theories he had + a man’s true heart, for he came in haste to Mrs. Mavor to say: + </p> + <p> + ‘Ye’ll be needed ower yonder, a’m thinkin’.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why? Is the baby worse? Have you been in?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Na, na,’ replied Geordie cautiously, ‘a’ll no gang where a’m no wanted. + But yon puir thing, ye can hear ootside weepin’ and moanin’.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She’ll maybe need ye tae,’ he went on dubiously to me. ‘Ye’re a kind o’ + doctor, a’ hear,’ not committing himself to any opinion as to my + professional value. But Slavin would have none of me, having got the + doctor sober enough to prescribe. + </p> + <p> + The interest of the camp in Slavin was greatly increased by the illness of + his baby, which was to him as the apple of his eye. There were a few who, + impressed by Geordie’s profound convictions upon the matter, were inclined + to favour the retribution theory, and connect the baby’s illness with the + vengeance of the Almighty. Among these few was Slavin himself, and goaded + by his remorseful terrors he sought relief in drink. But this brought him + only deeper and fiercer gloom; so that between her suffering child and her + savagely despairing husband, the poor mother was desperate with terror and + grief. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! madame,’ she sobbed to Mrs. Mavor, ‘my heart is broke for him. He’s + heet noting for tree days, but jis dreenk, dreenk, dreenk.’ + </p> + <p> + The next day a man came for me in haste. The baby was dying and the doctor + was drunk. I found the little one in a convulsion lying across Mrs. + Mavor’s knees, the mother kneeling beside it, wringing her hands in a dumb + agony, and Slavin standing near, silent and suffering. I glanced at the + bottle of medicine upon the table and asked Mrs. Mavor the dose, and found + the baby had been poisoned. My look of horror told Slavin something was + wrong, and striding to me he caught my arm and asked— + </p> + <p> + ‘What is it? Is the medicine wrong?’ + </p> + <p> + I tried to put him off, but his grip tightened till his fingers seemed to + reach the bone. + </p> + <p> + ‘The dose is certainly too large; but let me go, I must do something.’ + </p> + <p> + He let me go at once, saying in a voice that made my heart sore for him, + ‘He has killed my baby; he has killed my baby.’ And then he cursed the + doctor with awful curses, and with a look of such murderous fury on his + face that I was glad the doctor was too drunk to appear. + </p> + <p> + His wife hearing his curses, and understanding the cause, broke out into + wailing hard to bear. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! mon petit ange! It is dat wheeskey dat’s keel mon baby. Ah! mon + cheri, mon amour. Ah! mon Dieu! Ah, Michael, how often I say that wheeskey + he’s not good ting.’ + </p> + <p> + It was more than Slavin could bear, and with awful curses he passed out. + Mrs. Mavor laid the baby in its crib, for the convulsion had passed away; + and putting her arms about the wailing little Frenchwoman, comforted and + soothed her as a mother might her child. + </p> + <p> + ‘And you must help your husband,’ I heard her say. ‘He will need you more + than ever. Think of him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah oui! I weel,’ was the quick reply, and from that moment there was no + more wailing. + </p> + <p> + It seemed no more than a minute till Slavin came in again, sober, quiet, + and steady; the passion was all gone from his face, and only the grief + remained. + </p> + <p> + As we stood leaning over the sleeping child the little thing opened its + eyes, saw its father, and smiled. It was too much for him. The big man + dropped on his knees with a dry sob. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is there no chance at all, at all?’ he whispered, but I could give him no + hope. He immediately rose, and pulling himself together, stood perfectly + quiet. + </p> + <p> + A new terror seized upon the mother. + </p> + <p> + ‘My baby is not—what you call it?’ going through the form of + baptism. ‘An’ he will not come to la sainte Vierge,’ she said, crossing + herself. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do not fear for your little one,’ said Mrs. Mavor, still with her arms + about her. ‘The good Saviour will take your darling into His own arms.’ + </p> + <p> + But the mother would not be comforted by this. And Slavin too, was uneasy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where is Father Goulet?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! you were not good to the holy pere de las tam, Michael,’ she replied + sadly. ‘The saints are not please for you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Where is the priest?’ he demanded. + </p> + <p> + ‘I know not for sure. At de Landin’, dat’s lak.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll go for him,’ he said. But his wife clung to him, beseeching him not + to leave her, and indeed he was loth to leave his little one. + </p> + <p> + I found Craig and told him the difficulty. With his usual promptness, he + was ready with a solution. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nixon has a team. He will go.’ Then he added, ‘I wonder if they would not + like me to baptize their little one. Father Goulet and I have exchanged + offices before now. I remember how he came to one of my people in my + absence, when she was dying, read with her, prayed with her, comforted + her, and helped her across the river. He is a good soul, and has no + nonsense about him. Send for me if you think there is need. It will make + no difference to the baby, but it will comfort the mother.’ + </p> + <p> + Nixon was willing enough to go; but when he came to the door Mrs. Mavor + saw the hard look in his face. He had not forgotten his wrong, for day by + day he was still fighting the devil within that Slavin had called to life. + But Mrs. Mavor, under cover of getting him instructions, drew him into the + room. While listening to her, his eyes wandered from one to the other of + the group till they rested upon the little white face in the crib. She + noticed the change in his face. + </p> + <p> + ‘They fear the little one will never see the Saviour if it is not + baptized,’ she said, in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + He was eager to go. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll do my best to get the priest,’ he said, and was gone on his sixty + miles’ race with death. + </p> + <p> + The long afternoon wore on, but before it was half gone I saw Nixon could + not win, and that the priest would be too late, so I sent for Mr. Craig. + From the moment he entered the room he took command of us all. He was so + simple, so manly, so tender, the hearts of the parents instinctively + turned to him. + </p> + <p> + As he was about to proceed with the baptism, the mother whispered to Mrs. + Mavor, who hesitatingly asked Mr. Craig if he would object to using holy + water. + </p> + <p> + ‘To me it is the same as any other,’ he replied gravely. + </p> + <p> + ‘An’ will he make the good sign?’ asked the mother timidly. + </p> + <p> + And so the child was baptized by the Presbyterian minister with holy water + and with the sign of the cross. I don’t suppose it was orthodox, and it + rendered chaotic some of my religious notions, but I thought more of Craig + that moment than ever before. He was more man than minister, or perhaps he + was so good a minister that day because so much a man. As he read about + the Saviour and the children and the disciples who tried to get in between + them, and as he told us the story in his own simple and beautiful way, and + then went on to picture the home of the little children, and the same + Saviour in the midst of them, I felt my heart grow warm, and I could + easily understand the cry of the mother— + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, mon Jesu, prenez moi aussi, take me wiz mon mignon.’ + </p> + <p> + The cry wakened Slavin’s heart, and he said huskily— + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! Annette! Annette!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, oui! an’ Michael too!’ Then to Mr. Craig— + </p> + <p> + ‘You tink He’s tak me some day? Eh?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘All who love Him,’ he replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘An’ Michael too?’ she asked, her eyes searching his face, ‘An’ Michael + too?’ + </p> + <p> + But Craig only replied: ‘All who love Him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, Michael, you must pray le bon Jesu. He’s garde notre mignon.’ And + then she bent over the babe, whispering— + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, mon cheri, mon amour, adieu! adieu! mon ange!’ till Slavin put his + arms about her and took her away, for as she was whispering her farewells, + her baby, with a little answering sigh, passed into the House with many + rooms. + </p> + <p> + ‘Whisht, Annette darlin’; don’t cry for the baby,’ said her husband. + ‘Shure it’s better off than the rest av us, it is. An’ didn’t ye hear what + the minister said about the beautiful place it is? An’ shure he wouldn’t + lie to us at all.’ But a mother cannot be comforted for her first-born + son. + </p> + <p> + An hour later Nixon brought Father Goulet. He was a little Frenchman with + gentle manners and the face of a saint. Craig welcomed him warmly, and + told him what he had done. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is good, my brother,’ he said, with gentle courtesy, and, turning to + the mother, ‘Your little one is safe.’ + </p> + <p> + Behind Father Goulet came Nixon softly, and gazed down upon the little + quiet face, beautiful with the magic of death. Slavin came quietly and + stood beside him. Nixon turned and offered his hand. But Slavin said, + moving slowly back— + </p> + <p> + ‘I did ye a wrong, Nixon, an’ it’s a sorry man I am this day for it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t say a word, Slavin,’ answered Nixon, hurriedly. ‘I know how you + feel. I’ve got a baby too. I want to see it again. That’s why the break + hurt me so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘As God’s above,’ replied Slavin earnestly, ‘I’ll hinder ye no more.’ They + shook hands, and we passed out. + </p> + <p> + We laid the baby under the pines, not far from Billy Breen, and the sweet + spring wind blew through the Gap, and came softly down the valley, + whispering to the pines and the grass and the hiding flowers of the New + Life coming to the world. And the mother must have heard the whisper in + her heart, for, as the Priest was saying the words of the Service, she + stood with Mrs. Mavor’s arms about her, and her eyes were looking far away + beyond the purple mountain-tops, seeing what made her smile. And Slavin, + too, looked different. His very features seemed finer. The coarseness was + gone out of his face. What had come to him I could not tell. + </p> + <p> + But when the doctor came into Slavin’s house that night it was the old + Slavin I saw, but with a look of such deadly fury on his face that I tried + to get the doctor out at once. But he was half drunk and after his manner + was hideously humorous. + </p> + <p> + ‘How do, ladies! How do, gentlemen!’ was his loud-voiced salutation. + ‘Quite a professional gathering, clergy predominating. Lion and Lamb too, + ha! ha! which is the lamb, eh? ha! ha! very good! awfully sorry to hear of + your loss, Mrs. Slavin; did our best you know, can’t help this sort of + thing.’ + </p> + <p> + Before any one could move, Craig was at his side, and saying in a clear, + firm voice, ‘One moment, doctor,’ caught him by the arm and had him out of + the room before he knew it. Slavin, who had been crouching in his chair + with hands twitching and eyes glaring, rose and followed, still crouching + as he walked. I hurried after him, calling him back. Turning at my voice, + the doctor saw Slavin approaching. There was something so terrifying in + his swift noiseless crouching motion, that the doctor, crying out in fear + ‘Keep him off,’ fairly turned and fled. He was too late. Like a tiger + Slavin leaped upon him and without waiting to strike had him by the throat + with both hands, and bearing him to the ground, worried him there as a dog + might a cat. + </p> + <p> + Immediately Craig and I were upon him, but though we lifted him clear off + the ground we could not loosen that two-handed strangling grip. At we were + struggling there a light hand touched my shoulder. It was Father Goulet. + </p> + <p> + ‘Please let him go, and stand away from us,’ he said, waving us back. We + obeyed. He leaned over Slavin and spoke a few words to him. Slavin started + as if struck a heavy blow, looked up at the priest with fear in his face, + but still keeping his grip. + </p> + <p> + ‘Let him go,’ said the priest. Slavin hesitated. ‘Let him go! quick!’ said + the priest again, and Slavin with a snarl let go his hold and stood + sullenly facing the priest. + </p> + <p> + Father Goulet regarded him steadily for some seconds and then asked— + </p> + <p> + ‘What would you do?’ His voice was gentle enough, even sweet, but there + was something in it that chilled my marrow. ‘What would you do?’ he + repeated. + </p> + <p> + ‘He murdered my child,’ growled Slavin. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! how?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He was drunk and poisoned him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! who gave him drink? Who made him a drunkard two years ago? Who has + wrecked his life?’ + </p> + <p> + There was no answer, and the even-toned voice went relentlessly on— + </p> + <p> + ‘Who is the murderer of your child now?’ + </p> + <p> + Slavin groaned and shuddered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Go!’ and the voice grew stern. ‘Repent of your sin and add not another.’ + </p> + <p> + Slavin turned his eyes upon the motionless figure on the ground and then + upon the priest. Father Goulet took one step towards him, and, stretching + out his hand and pointing with his finger, said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Go!’ + </p> + <p> + And Slavin slowly backed away and went into his house. It was an + extraordinary scene, and it is often with me now: the dark figure on the + ground, the slight erect form of the priest with outstretched arm and + finger, and Slavin backing away, fear and fury struggling in his face. + </p> + <p> + It was a near thing for the doctor, however, and two minutes more of that + grip would have done for him. As it was, we had the greatest difficulty in + reviving him. + </p> + <p> + What the priest did with Slavin after getting him inside I know not; that + has always been a mystery to me. But when we were passing the saloon that + night after taking Mrs. Mavor home, we saw a light and heard strange + sounds within. Entering, we found another whisky raid in progress, Slavin + himself being the raider. We stood some moments watching him knocking in + the heads of casks and emptying bottles. I thought he had gone mad, and + approached him cautiously. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hello, Slavin!’ I called out; ‘what does this mean?’ + </p> + <p> + He paused in his strange work, and I saw that his face, though resolute, + was quiet enough. + </p> + <p> + ‘It means I’m done wid the business, I am,’ he said, in a determined + voice. ‘I’ll help no more to kill any man, or,’ in a lower tone, ‘any + man’s baby.’ The priest’s words had struck home. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank God, Slavin!’ said Craig, offering his hand; ‘you are much too good + a man for the business.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good or bad, I’m done wid it,’ he replied, going on with his work. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are throwing away good money, Slavin,’ I said, as the head of a cask + crashed in. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s meself that knows it, for the price of whisky has riz in town this + week,’ he answered, giving me a look out of the corner of his eye. ‘Bedad! + it was a rare clever job,’ referring to our Black Rock Hotel affair. + </p> + <p> + ‘But won’t you be sorry for this?’ asked Craig. + </p> + <p> + ‘Beloike I will; an’ that’s why I’m doin’ it before I’m sorry for it,’ he + replied, with a delightful bull. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, Slavin,’ said Craig earnestly; ‘if I can be of use to you in + any way, count on me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s good to me the both of yez have been, an’ I’ll not forget it to + yez,’ he replied, with like earnestness. + </p> + <p> + As we told Mrs. Mavor that night, for Craig thought it too good to keep, + her eyes seemed to grow deeper and the light in them to glow more intense + as she listened to Craig pouring out his tale. Then she gave him her hand + and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘You have your man at last.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What man?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The man you have been waiting for.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Slavin!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why not?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I never thought of it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No more did he, nor any of us.’ Then, after a pause, she added gently, + ‘He has been sent to us?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know, I believe you are right,’ Craig said slowly, and then added, + ‘But you always are.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I fear not,’ she answered; but I thought she liked to hear his words. + </p> + <p> + The whole town was astounded next morning when Slavin went to work in the + mines, and its astonishment only deepened as the days went on, and he + stuck to his work. Before three weeks had gone the League had bought and + remodelled the saloon and had secured Slavin as Resident Manager. + </p> + <p> + The evening of the reopening of Slavin’s saloon, as it was still called, + was long remembered in Black Rock. It was the occasion of the first + appearance of ‘The League Minstrel and Dramatic Troupe,’ in what was + described as a ‘hair-lifting tragedy with appropriate musical selections.’ + Then there was a grand supper and speeches and great enthusiasm, which + reached its climax when Nixon rose to propose the toast of the evening—‘Our + Saloon.’ His speech was simply a quiet, manly account of his long struggle + with the deadly enemy. When he came to speak of his recent defeat he said— + </p> + <p> + ‘And while I am blaming no one but myself, I am glad to-night that this + saloon is on our side, for my own sake and for the sake of those who have + been waiting long to see me. But before I sit down I want to say that + while I live I shall not forget that I owe my life to the man that took me + that night to his own shack and put me in his own bed, and met me next + morning with an open hand; for I tell you I had sworn to God that that + morning would be my last.’ + </p> + <p> + Geordie’s speech was characteristic. After a brief reference to the + ‘mysteerious ways o’ Providence,’ which he acknowledged he might sometimes + fail to understand, he went on to express his unqualified approval of the + new saloon. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s a cosy place, an’ there’s nae sulphur aboot. Besides a’ that,’ he + went on enthusiastically, ‘it’ll be a terrible savin’. I’ve juist been + coontin’.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You bet!’ ejaculated a voice with great emphasis. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve juist been coontin’,’ went on Geordie, ignoring the remark and the + laugh which followed, ‘an’ it’s an awfu’-like money ye pit ower wi’ the + whusky. Ye see ye canna dae wi’ ane bit glass; ye maun hae twa or three at + the verra least, for it’s no verra forrit ye get wi’ ane glass. But wi’ + yon coffee ye juist get a saxpence-worth an’ ye want nae mair.’ + </p> + <p> + There was another shout of laughter, which puzzled Geordie much. + </p> + <p> + ‘I dinna see the jowk, but I’ve slippit ower in whusky mair nor a hunner + dollars.’ + </p> + <p> + Then he paused, looking hard before him, and twisting his face into + extraordinary shapes till the men looked at him in wonder. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m rale glad o’ this saloon, but it’s ower late for the lad that canna + be helpit the noo. He’ll not be needin’ help o’ oors, I doot, but there + are ithers’—and he stopped abruptly and sat down, with no applause + following. + </p> + <p> + But when Slavin, our saloon-keeper, rose to reply, the men jumped up on + the seats and yelled till they could yell no more. Slavin stood, evidently + in trouble with himself, and finally broke out— + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s spacheless I am entirely. What’s come to me I know not, nor how it’s + come. But I’ll do my best for yez.’ And then the yelling broke out again. + </p> + <p> + I did not yell myself. I was too busy watching the varying lights in Mrs. + Mavor’s eyes as she looked from Craig to the yelling men on the benches + and tables, and then to Slavin, and I found myself wondering if she knew + what it was that came to Slavin. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + THE TWO CALLS + </h3> + <p> + With the call to Mr. Craig I fancy I had something to do myself. The call + came from a young congregation in an eastern city, and was based partly + upon his college record and more upon the advice of those among the + authorities who knew his work in the mountains. But I flatter myself that + my letters to friends who were of importance in that congregation were not + without influence, for I was of the mind that the man who could handle + Black Rock miners as he could was ready for something larger than a + mountain mission. That he would refuse I had not imagined, though I ought + to have known him better. He was but little troubled over it. He went with + the call and the letters urging his acceptance to Mrs. Mavor. I was + putting the last touches to some of my work in the room at the back of + Mrs. Mavor’s house when he came in. She read the letters and the call + quietly, and waited for him to speak. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well?’ he said; ‘should I go?’ + </p> + <p> + She started, and grew a little pale. His question suggested a possibility + that had not occurred to her. That he could leave his work in Black Rock + she had hitherto never imagined; but there was other work, and he was fit + for good work anywhere. Why should he not go? I saw the fear in her face, + but I saw more than fear in her eyes, as for a moment or two she let them + rest upon Craig’s face. I read her story, and I was not sorry for either + of them. But she was too much a woman to show her heart easily to the man + she loved, and her voice was even and calm as she answered his question. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is this a very large congregation?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘One of the finest in all the East,’ I put in for him. ‘It will be a great + thing for Craig.’ + </p> + <p> + Craig was studying her curiously. I think she noticed his eyes upon her, + for she went on even more quietly— + </p> + <p> + ‘It will be a great chance for work, and you are able for a larger sphere, + you know, than poor Black Rock affords.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Who will take Black Rock?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Let some other fellow have a try at it,’ I said. ‘Why should you waste + your talents here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Waste?’ cried Mrs. Mavor indignantly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, “bury,” if you like it better,’ I replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘It would not take much of a grave for that funeral,’ said Craig, smiling. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh,’ said Mrs. Mavor, ‘you will be a great man I know, and perhaps you + ought to go now.’ + </p> + <p> + But he answered coolly: ‘There are fifty men wanting that Eastern charge, + and there is only one wanting Black Rock, and I don’t think Black Rock is + anxious for a change, so I have determined to stay where I am yet a + while.’ + </p> + <p> + Even my deep disgust and disappointment did not prevent me from seeing the + sudden leap of joy in Mrs. Mavor’s eyes, but she, with a great effort, + answered quietly— + </p> + <p> + ‘Black Rock will be very glad, and some of us very, very glad.’ + </p> + <p> + Nothing could change his mind. There was no one he knew who could take his + place just now, and why should he quit his work? It annoyed me + considerably to feel he was right. Why is it that the right things are so + frequently unpleasant? + </p> + <p> + And if I had had any doubt about the matter next Sabbath evening would + have removed it. For the men came about him after the service and let him + feel in their own way how much they approved his decision, though the + self-sacrifice involved did not appeal to them. They were too truly + Western to imagine that any inducements the East could offer could + compensate for his loss of the West. It was only fitting that the West + should have the best, and so the miners took almost as a matter of course, + and certainly as their right, that the best man they knew should stay with + them. But there were those who knew how much of what most men consider + worth while he had given up, and they loved him no less for it. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mavor’s call was not so easily disposed of. It came close upon the + other, and stirred Black Rock as nothing else had ever stirred it before. + </p> + <p> + I found her one afternoon gazing vacantly at some legal documents spread + out before her on the table, and evidently overcome by their contents. + There was first a lawyer’s letter informing her that by the death of her + husband’s father she had come into the whole of the Mavor estates, and all + the wealth pertaining thereto. The letter asked for instructions, and + urged an immediate return with a view to a personal superintendence of the + estates. A letter, too, from a distant cousin of her husband urged her + immediate return for many reasons, but chiefly on account of the old + mother who had been left alone with none nearer of kin than himself to + care for her and cheer her old age. + </p> + <p> + With these two came another letter from her mother-in-law herself. The + crabbed, trembling characters were even more eloquent than the words with + which the letter closed. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have lost my boy, and now my husband is gone, and I am a lonely woman. + I have many servants, and some friends, but none near to me, none so near + and dear as my dead son’s wife. My days are not to be many. Come to me, my + daughter; I want you and Lewis’s child.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Must I go?’ she asked with white lips. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know her well?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘I only saw her once or twice,’ she answered; ‘but she has been very good + to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She can hardly need you. She has friends. And surely you are needed + here.’ + </p> + <p> + She looked at me eagerly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you think so?’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ask any man in the camp—Shaw, Nixon, young Winton, Geordie. Ask + Craig,’ I replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, he will tell me,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + Even as she spoke Craig came up the steps. I passed into my studio and + went on with my work, for my days at Black Rock were getting few, and many + sketches remained to be filled in. + </p> + <p> + Through my open door I saw Mrs. Mavor lay her letters before Mr. Craig, + saying, ‘I have a call too.’ They thought not of me. + </p> + <p> + He went through the papers, carefully laid them down without a word while + she waited anxiously, almost impatiently, for him to speak. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well?’ she asked, using his own words to her; ‘should I go?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I do not know,’ he replied; ‘that is for you to decide—you know all + the circumstances.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The letters tell all.’ Her tone carried a feeling of disappointment. He + did not appear to care. + </p> + <p> + ‘The estates are large?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, large enough—twelve thousand a year.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And has your mother-in-law any one with her?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She has friends, but, as she says, none near of kin. Her nephew looks + after the works—iron works, you know—he has shares in them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She is evidently very lonely,’ he answered gravely. + </p> + <p> + ‘What shall I do?’ she asked, and I knew she was waiting to hear him urge + her to stay; but he did not see, or at least gave no heed. + </p> + <p> + ‘I cannot say,’ he repeated quietly. ‘There are many things to consider; + the estates—’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The estates seem to trouble you,’ she replied, almost fretfully. He + looked up in surprise. I wondered at his slowness. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, the estates,’ he went on, ‘and tenants, I suppose—your + mother-in-law, your little Marjorie’s future, your own future.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The estates are in capable hands, I should suppose,’ she urged, ‘and my + future depends upon what I choose my work to be.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But one cannot shift one’s responsibilities,’ he replied gravely. ‘These + estates, these tenants, have come to you, and with them come duties.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I do not want them,’ she cried. + </p> + <p> + ‘That life has great possibilities of good,’ he said kindly. + </p> + <p> + ‘I had thought that perhaps there was work for me here,’ she suggested + timidly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Great work,’ he hastened to say. ‘You have done great work. But you will + do that wherever you go. The only question is where your work lies.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You think I should go,’ she said suddenly and a little bitterly. + </p> + <p> + ‘I cannot bid you stay,’ he answered steadily. + </p> + <p> + ‘How can I go?’ she cried, appealing to him. ‘Must I go?’ + </p> + <p> + How he could resist that appeal I could not understand. His face was cold + and hard, and his voice was almost harsh as he replied— + </p> + <p> + ‘If it is right, you will go—you must go.’ + </p> + <p> + Then she burst forth— + </p> + <p> + ‘I cannot go. I shall stay here. My work is here; my heart is here. How + can I go? You thought it worth your while to stay here and work, why + should not I?’ + </p> + <p> + The momentary gleam in his eyes died out, and again he said coldly— + </p> + <p> + ‘This work was clearly mine. I am needed here.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, yes!’ she cried, her voice full of pain; ‘you are needed, but there + is no need of me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Stop, stop!’ he said sharply; ‘you must not say so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I will say it, I must say it,’ she cried, her voice vibrating with the + intensity of her feeling. ‘I know you do not need me; you have your work, + your miners, your plans; you need no one; you are strong. But,’ and her + voice rose to a cry, ‘I am not strong by myself; you have made me strong. + I came here a foolish girl, foolish and selfish and narrow. God sent me + grief. Three years ago my heart died. Now I am living again. I am a woman + now, no longer a girl. You have done this for me. Your life, your words, + yourself—you have showed me a better, a higher life, than I had ever + known before, and now you send me away.’ + </p> + <p> + She paused abruptly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Blind, stupid fool!’ I said to myself. + </p> + <p> + He held himself resolutely in hand, answering carefully, but his voice had + lost its coldness and was sweet and kind. + </p> + <p> + ‘Have I done this for you? Then surely God has been good to me. And you + have helped me more than any words could tell you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Helped!’ she repeated scornfully. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, helped,’ he answered, wondering at her scorn. + </p> + <p> + ‘You can do without my help,’ she went on. ‘You make people help you. You + will get many to help you; but I need help, too.’ She was standing before + him with her hands tightly clasped; her face was pale, and her eyes deeper + than ever. He sat looking up at her in a kind of maze as she poured out + her words hot and fast. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am not thinking of you.’ His coldness had hurt her deeply. ‘I am + selfish; I am thinking of myself. How shall I do? I have grown to depend + on you, to look to you. It is nothing to you that I go, but to me—’ + She did not dare to finish. + </p> + <p> + By this time Craig was standing before her, his face deadly pale. When she + came to the end of her words, he said, in a voice low, sweet, and + thrilling with emotion— + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, if you only knew! Do not make me forget myself. You do not guess what + you are doing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What am I doing? What is there to know, but that you tell me easily to + go? She was struggling with the tears she was too proud to let him see. + </p> + <p> + He put his hands resolutely behind him, looking at her as if studying her + face for the first time. Under his searching look she dropped her eyes, + and the warm colour came slowly up into her neck and face; then, as if + with a sudden resolve, she lifted her eyes to his, and looked back at him + unflinchingly. + </p> + <p> + He started, surprised, drew slowly near, put his hands upon her shoulders, + surprise giving place to wild joy. She never moved her eyes; they drew him + towards her. He took her face between his hands, smiled into her eyes, + kissed her lips. She did not move; he stood back from her, threw up his + head, and laughed aloud. She came to him, put her head upon his breast, + and lifting up her face said, ‘Kiss me.’ He put his arms about her, bent + down and kissed her lips again, and then reverently her brow. Then putting + her back from him, but still holding both her hands, he cried— + </p> + <p> + ‘Not you shall not go. I shall never let you go.’ + </p> + <p> + She gave a little sigh of content, and, smiling up at him, said— + </p> + <p> + ‘I can go now’; but even as she spoke the flush died from her face, and + she shuddered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Never!’ he almost shouted; ‘nothing shall take you away. We shall work + here together.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, if we could, if we only could,’ she said piteously. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why not?’ he demanded fiercely. + </p> + <p> + ‘You will send me away. You will say it is right for me to go,’ she + replied sadly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do we not love each other?’ was his impatient answer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! yes, love,’ she said; ‘but love is not all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No!’ cried Craig; ‘but love is the best’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes!’ she said sadly; ‘love is the best, and it is for love’s sake we + will do the best.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There is no better work than here. Surely this is best,’ and he pictured + his plans before her. She listened eagerly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh! if it should be right,’ she cried, ‘I will do what you say. You are + good, you are wise, you shall tell me.’ + </p> + <p> + She could not have recalled him better. He stood silent some moments, then + burst out passionately— + </p> + <p> + ‘Why then has love come to us? We did not seek it. Surely love is of God. + Does God mock us?’ + </p> + <p> + He threw himself into his chair, pouring out his words of passionate + protestation. She listened, smiling, then came to him and, touching his + hair as a mother might her child’s, said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, I am very happy! I was afraid you would not care, and I could not + bear to go that way.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You shall not go,’ he cried aloud, as if in pain. ‘Nothing can make that + right.’ + </p> + <p> + But she only said, ‘You shall tell me to-morrow. You cannot see to-night, + but you will see, and you will tell me.’ + </p> + <p> + He stood up and, holding both her hands, looked long into her eyes, then + turned abruptly away and went out. + </p> + <p> + She stood where he left her for some moments, her face radiant, and her + hands pressed upon her heart. Then she came toward my room. She found me + busy with my painting, but as I looked up and met her eyes she flushed + slightly, and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘I quite forgot you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So it appeared to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You heard?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And saw,’ I replied boldly. ‘It would have been rude to interrupt, you + see.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, I am so glad and thankful.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes; it was rather considerate of me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, I don’t mean that,’ the flush deepening; ‘I am glad you know.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have known some time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘How could you? I only knew to-day myself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have eyes.’ She flushed again. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you mean that people—’ she began anxiously. + </p> + <p> + ‘No; I am not “people.” I have eyes, and my eyes have been opened.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Opened?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, by love.’ + </p> + <p> + Then I told her openly how, weeks ago, I struggled with my heart and + mastered it, for I saw it was vain to love her, because she loved a better + man who loved her in return. She looked at me shyly and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sorry.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t worry,’ I said cheerfully. ‘I didn’t break my heart, you know; I + stopped it in time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh!’ she said, slightly disappointed; then her lips began to twitch, and + she went off into a fit of hysterical laughter. + </p> + <p> + ‘Forgive me,’ she said humbly; ‘but you speak as if it had been a fever.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fever is nothing to it,’ I said solemnly. ‘It was a near thing.’ At which + she went off again. I was glad to see her laugh. It gave me time to + recover my equilibrium, and it relieved her intense emotional strain. So I + rattled on some nonsense about Craig and myself till I saw she was giving + no heed, but thinking her own thoughts: and what these were it was not + hard to guess. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she broke in upon my talk— + </p> + <p> + ‘He will tell me that I must go from him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope he is no such fool,’ I said emphatically and somewhat rudely, I + fear; for I confess I was impatient with the very possibility of + separation for these two, to whom love meant so much. Some people take + this sort of thing easily and some not so easily; but love for a woman + like this comes once only to a man, and then he carries it with him + through the length of his life, and warms his heart with it in death. And + when a man smiles or sneers at such love as this, I pity him, and say no + word, for my speech would be in an unknown tongue. So my heart was sore as + I sat looking up at this woman who stood before me, overflowing with the + joy of her new love, and dully conscious of the coming pain. But I soon + found it was vain to urge my opinion that she should remain and share the + work and life of the man she loved. She only answered— + </p> + <p> + ‘You will help him all you can, for it will hurt him to have me go.’ + </p> + <p> + The quiver in her voice took out all the anger from my heart, and before I + knew I had pledged myself to do all I could to help him. + </p> + <p> + But when I came upon him that night, sitting in the light of his fire, I + saw he must be let alone. Some battles we fight side by side, with + comrades cheering us and being cheered to victory; but there are fights we + may not share, and these are deadly fights where lives are lost and won. + So I could only lay my hand upon his shoulder without a word. He looked up + quickly, read my face, and said, with a groan— + </p> + <p> + ‘You know?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I could not help it. But why groan?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘She will think it right to go,’ he said despairingly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Then you must think for her; you must bring some common-sense to bear + upon the question.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I cannot see clearly yet,’ he said; ‘the light will come.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘May I show you how I see it?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Go on,’ he said. + </p> + <p> + For an hour I talked; eloquently, even vehemently urging the reason and + right of my opinion. She would be doing no more than every woman does, no + more than she did before; her mother-in-law had a comfortable home, all + that wealth could procure, good servants, and friends; the estates could + be managed without her personal supervision; after a few years’ work here + they would go east for little Majorie’s education; why should two lives be + broken?—and so I went on. + </p> + <p> + He listened carefully, even eagerly. + </p> + <p> + ‘You make a good case,’ he said, with a slight smile. ‘I will take time. + Perhaps you are right. The light will come. Surely it will come. But,’ and + here he sprang up and stretched his arms to full length above his head, ‘I + am not sorry; whatever comes I am not sorry. It is great to have her love, + but greater to love her as I do. Thank God! nothing can take that away. I + am willing, glad to suffer for the joy of loving her.’ + </p> + <p> + Next morning, before I was awake, he was gone, leaving a note for me:— + </p> + <p> + ‘MY DEAR CONNOR,—I am due at the Landing. When I see you again I + think my way will be clear. Now all is dark. At times I am a coward, and + often, as you sometimes kindly inform me, an ass; but I hope I may never + become a mule. + </p> + <p> + I am willing to be led, or want to be, at any rate. I must do the best—not + second best—for her, for me. The best only is God’s will. What else + would you have? Be good to her these days, dear old fellow.—Yours, + CRAIG.’ + </p> + <p> + How often those words have braced me he will never know, but I am a better + man for them: ‘The best only is God’s will. What else would you have?’ I + resolved I would rage and fret no more, and that I would worry Mrs. Mavor + with no more argument or expostulation, but, as my friend had asked, ‘Be + good to her.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + LOVE IS NOT ALL + </h3> + <p> + Those days when we were waiting Craig’s return we spent in the woods or on + the mountain sides, or down in the canyon beside the stream that danced + down to meet the Black Rock river, I talking and sketching and reading, + and she listening and dreaming, with often a happy smile upon her face. + But there were moments when a cloud of shuddering fear would sweep the + smile away, and then I would talk of Craig till the smile came back again. + </p> + <p> + But the woods and the mountains and the river were her best, her wisest, + friends during those days. How sweet the ministry of the woods to her! The + trees were in their new summer leaves, fresh and full of life. They swayed + and rustled above us, flinging their interlacing shadows upon us, and + their swaying and their rustling soothed and comforted like the voice and + touch of a mother. And the mountains, too, in all the glory of their + varying robes of blues and purples, stood calmly, solemnly about us, + uplifting our souls into regions of rest. The changing lights and shadows + flitted swiftly over their rugged fronts, but left them ever as before in + their steadfast majesty. ‘God’s in His heaven.’ What would you have? And + ever the little river sang its cheerful courage, fearing not the great + mountains that threatened to bar its passage to the sea. Mrs. Mavor heard + the song and her courage rose. + </p> + <p> + ‘We too shall find our way,’ she said, and I believed her. + </p> + <p> + But through these days I could not make her out, and I found myself + studying her as I might a new acquaintance. Years had fallen from her; she + was a girl again, full of young warm life. She was as sweet as before, but + there was a soft shyness over her, a half-shamed, half-frank consciousness + in her face, a glad light in her eyes that made her all new to me. Her + perfect trust in Craig was touching to see. + </p> + <p> + ‘He will tell me what to do,’ she would say, till I began to realise how + impossible it would be for him to betray such trust, and be anything but + true to the best. + </p> + <p> + So much did I dread Craig’s home-coming, that I sent for Graeme and old + man Nelson, who was more and more Graeme’s trusted counsellor and friend. + They were both highly excited by the story I had to tell, for I thought it + best to tell them all; but I was not a little surprised and disgusted that + they did not see the matter in my light. In vain I protested against the + madness of allowing anything to send these two from each other. Graeme + summed up the discussion in his own emphatic way, but with an earnestness + in his words not usual with him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Craig will know better than any of us what is right to do, and he will do + that, and no man can turn him from it; and,’ he added, ‘I should be sorry + to try.’ + </p> + <p> + Then my wrath rose, and I cried— + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s a tremendous shame! They love each other. You are talking + sentimental humbug and nonsense!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He must do the right,’ said Nelson in his deep, quiet voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘Right! Nonsense! By what right does he send from him the woman he loves?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘“He pleased not Himself,”’ quoted Nelson reverently. + </p> + <p> + ‘Nelson is right,’ said Graeme. ‘I should not like to see him weaken.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here,’ I stormed; ‘I didn’t bring you men to back him up in his + nonsense. I thought you could keep your heads level.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Connor,’ said Graeme, ‘don’t rage—leave that for the heathen; + it’s bad form, and useless besides. Craig will walk his way where his + light falls; and by all that’s holy, I should hate to see him fail; for if + he weakens like the rest of us my North Star will have dropped from my + sky.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nice selfish spirit,’ I muttered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Entirely so. I’m not a saint, but I feel like steering by one when I see + him.’ + </p> + <p> + When after a week had gone, Craig rode up one early morning to his shack + door, his face told me that he had fought his fight and had not been + beaten. He had ridden all night and was ready to drop with weariness. + </p> + <p> + ‘Connor, old boy,’ he said, putting out his hand; ‘I’m rather played. + There was a bad row at the Landing. I have just closed poor Colley’s eyes. + It was awful. I must get sleep. Look after Dandy, will you, like a good + chap?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Dandy be hanged,!’ I said, for I knew it was not the fight, nor the + watching, nor the long ride that had shaken his iron nerve and given him + that face. ‘Go in and lie down I’ll bring you something.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Wake me in the afternoon,’ he said; ‘she is waiting. Perhaps you will go + to her’—his lips quivered—‘my nerve is rather gone.’ Then with + a very wan smile he added, ‘I am giving you a lot of trouble.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You go to thunder!’ I burst out, for my throat was hot and sore with + grief for him. + </p> + <p> + ‘I think I’d rather go to sleep,’ he replied, still smiling. I could not + speak, and was glad of the chance of being alone with Dandy. + </p> + <p> + When I came in I found him sitting with his head in his arms upon the + table fast asleep. I made him tea, forced him to take a warm bath, and + sent him to bed, while I went to Mrs. Mavor. I went with a fearful heart, + but that was because I had forgotten the kind of woman she was. + </p> + <p> + She was standing in the light of the window waiting for me. Her face was + pale but steady, there was a proud light in her fathomless eyes, a slight + smile parted her lips, and she carried her head like a queen. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come in,’ she said. ‘You need not fear to tell me. I saw him ride home. + He has not failed, thank God! I am proud of him; I knew he would be true. + He loves me’—she drew in her breath sharply, and a faint colour + tinged her cheek—‘but he knows love is not all—ah, love is not + all! Oh! I am glad and proud!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Glad!’ I gasped, amazed. + </p> + <p> + ‘You would not have him prove faithless!’ she said with proud defiance. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, it is high sentimental nonsense,’ I could not help saying. + </p> + <p> + ‘You should not say so,’ she replied, and her voice rang clear. ‘Honour, + faith, and duty are sentiments, but they are not nonsense.’ + </p> + <p> + In spite of my rage I was lost in amazed admiration of the high spirit of + the woman who stood up so straight before me. But, as I told how worn and + broken he was, she listened with changing colour and swelling bosom, her + proud courage all gone, and only love, anxious and pitying, in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘Shall I go to him?’ she asked with timid eagerness and deepening colour. + </p> + <p> + ‘He is sleeping. He said he would come to you,’ I replied. + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall wait for him,’ she said softly, and the tenderness in her tone + went straight to my heart, and it seemed to me a man might suffer much to + be loved with love such as this. + </p> + <p> + In the early afternoon Graeme came to her. She met him with both hands + outstretched, saying in a low voice— + </p> + <p> + ‘I am very happy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you sure?’ he asked anxiously. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, but her voice was like a sob; ‘quite, quite sure.’ + </p> + <p> + They talked long together till I saw that Craig must soon be coming, and I + called Graeme away. He held her hands, looking steadily into her eyes and + said— + </p> + <p> + ‘You are better even than I thought; I’m going to be a better man.’ + </p> + <p> + Her eyes filled with tears, but her smile did not fade as she answered— + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes! you will be a good man, and God will give you work to do.’ + </p> + <p> + He bent his head over her hands and stepped back from her as from a queen, + but he spoke no word till we came to Craig’s door. Then he said with + humility that seemed strange in him, ‘Connor, that is great, to conquer + oneself. It is worth while. I am going to try.’ + </p> + <p> + I would not have missed his meeting with Craig. Nelson was busy with tea. + Craig was writing near the window. He looked up as Graeme came in, and + nodded an easy good-evening; but Graeme strode to him and, putting one + hand on his shoulder, held out his other for Craig to take. + </p> + <p> + After a moment’s surprise, Craig rose to his feet, and, facing him + squarely, took the offered hand in both of his and held it fast without a + word. Graeme was the first to speak, and his voice was deep with emotion— + </p> + <p> + ‘You are a great man, a good man. I’d give something to have your grit.’ + </p> + <p> + Poor Craig stood looking at him, not daring to speak for some moments, + then he said quietly— + </p> + <p> + ‘Not good nor great, but, thank God, not quite a traitor.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good man!’ went on Graeme, patting him on the shoulder. ‘Good man! But + it’s tough.’ + </p> + <p> + Craig sat down quickly, saying, ‘Don’t do that, old chap!’ + </p> + <p> + I went up with Craig to Mrs. Mavor’s door. She did not hear us coming, but + stood near the window gazing up at the mountains. She was dressed in some + rich soft stuff, and wore at her breast a bunch of wild-flowers. I had + never seen her so beautiful. I did not wonder that Craig paused with his + foot upon the threshold to look at her. She turned and saw us. With a glad + cry, ‘Oh! my darling; you have come to me,’ she came with outstretched + arms. I turned and fled, but the cry and the vision were long with me. + </p> + <p> + It was decided that night that Mrs. Mavor should go the next week. A miner + and his wife were going east, and I too would join the party. + </p> + <p> + The camp went into mourning at the news; but it was understood that any + display of grief before Mrs. Mavor was bad form. She was not to be + annoyed. + </p> + <p> + But when I suggested that she should leave quietly, and avoid the pain of + saying good-bye, she flatly refused— + </p> + <p> + ‘I must say good-bye to every man. They love me and I love them.’ + </p> + <p> + It was decided, too, at first, that there should be nothing in the way of + a testimonial, but when Craig found out that the men were coming to her + with all sorts of extraordinary gifts, he agreed that it would be better + that they should unite in one gift. So it was agreed that I should buy a + ring for her. And were it not that the contributions were strictly limited + to one dollar, the purse that Slavin handed her when Shaw read the address + at the farewell supper would have been many times filled with the gold + that was pressed upon the committee. There were no speeches at the supper, + except one by myself in reply on Mrs. Mavor’s behalf. She had given me the + words to say, and I was thoroughly prepared, else I should not have got + through. I began in the usual way: ‘Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen, + Mrs. Mavor is—’ but I got no further, for at the mention of her name + the men stood on the chairs and yelled until they could yell no more. + There were over two hundred and fifty of them, and the effect was + overpowering. But I got through my speech. I remember it well. It began— + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Mavor is greatly touched by this mark of your love, and she will + wear your ring always with pride.’ And it ended with— + </p> + <p> + ‘She has one request to make, that you will be true to the League, and + that you stand close about the man who did most to make it. She wishes me + to say that however far away she may have to go, she is leaving her heart + in Black Rock, and she can think of no greater joy than to come back to + you again.’ + </p> + <p> + Then they had ‘The Sweet By and By,’ but the men would not join in the + refrain, unwilling to lose a note of the glorious voice they loved to + hear. Before the last verse she beckoned to me. I went to her standing by + Craig’s side as he played for her. ‘Ask them to sing,’ she entreated; ‘I + cannot bear it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mrs. Mavor wishes you to sing in the refrain,’ I said, and at once the + men sat up and cleared their throats. The singing was not good, but at the + first sound of the hoarse notes of the men Craig’s head went down over the + organ, for he was thinking I suppose of the days before them when they + would long in vain for that thrilling voice that soared high over their + own hoarse tones. And after the voices died away he kept on playing till, + half turning toward him, she sang alone once more the refrain in a voice + low and sweet and tender, as if for him alone. And so he took it, for he + smiled up at her his old smile full of courage and full of love. + </p> + <p> + Then for one whole hour she stood saying good-bye to those rough, + gentle-hearted men whose inspiration to goodness she had been for five + years. It was very wonderful and very quiet. It was understood that there + was to be no nonsense, and Abe had been heard to declare that he would + ‘throw out any cotton-backed fool who couldn’t hold himself down,’ and + further, he had enjoined them to remember that ‘her arm wasn’t a + pump-handle.’ + </p> + <p> + At last they were all gone, all but her guard of honour—Shaw, Vernon + Winton, Geordie, Nixon, Abe, Nelson, Craig, and myself. + </p> + <p> + This was the real farewell; for, though in the early light of the next + morning two hundred men stood silent about the stage, and then as it moved + out waved their hats and yelled madly, this was the last touch they had of + her hand. Her place was up on the driver’s seat between Abe and Mr. Craig, + who held little Marjorie on his knee. The rest of the guard of honour were + to follow with Graeme’s team. It was Winton’s fine sense that kept Graeme + from following them close. ‘Let her go out alone,’ he said, and so we held + back and watched her go. + </p> + <p> + She stood with her back towards Abe’s plunging four-horse team, and + steadying herself with one hand on Abe’s shoulder, gazed down upon us. Her + head was bare, her lips parted in a smile, her eyes glowing with their own + deep light; and so, facing us, erect and smiling, she drove away, waving + us farewell till Abe swung his team into the canyon road and we saw her no + more. A sigh shuddered through the crowd, and, with a sob in his voice, + Winton said: ‘God help us all.’ + </p> + <p> + I close my eyes and see it all again. The waving crowd of dark-faced men, + the plunging horses, and, high up beside the driver, the swaying, smiling, + waving figure, and about all the mountains, framing the picture with their + dark sides and white peaks tipped with the gold of the rising sun. It is a + picture I love to look upon, albeit it calls up another that I can never + see but through tears. + </p> + <p> + I look across a strip of ever-widening water, at a group of men upon the + wharf, standing with heads uncovered, every man a hero, though not a man + of them suspects it, least of all the man who stands in front, strong, + resolute, self-conquered. And, gazing long, I think I see him turn again + to his place among the men of the mountains, not forgetting, but every day + remembering the great love that came to him, and remembering, too, that + love is not all. It is then the tears come. + </p> + <p> + But for that picture two of us at least are better men to-day. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + HOW NELSON CAME HOME + </h3> + <p> + Through the long summer the mountains and the pines were with me. And + through the winter, too, busy as I was filling in my Black Rock sketches + for the railway people who would still persist in ordering them by the + dozen, the memory of that stirring life would come over me, and once more + I would be among the silent pines and the mighty snow-peaked mountains. + And before me would appear the red-shirted shantymen or dark-faced miners, + great, free, bold fellows, driving me almost mad with the desire to seize + and fix those swiftly changing groups of picturesque figures. At such + times I would drop my sketch, and with eager brush seize a group, a face, + a figure, and that is how my studio comes to be filled with the men of + Black Rock. There they are all about me. Graeme and the men from the + woods, Sandy, Baptiste, the Campbells, and in many attitudes and groups + old man Nelson; Craig, too, and his miners, Shaw, Geordie, Nixon, and poor + old Billy and the keeper of the League saloon. + </p> + <p> + It seemed as if I lived among them, and the illusion was greatly helped by + the vivid letters Graeme sent me from time to time. Brief notes came now + and then from Craig too, to whom I had sent a faithful account of how I + had brought Mrs. Mavor to her ship, and of how I had watched her sail away + with none too brave a face, as she held up her hand that bore the miners’ + ring, and smiled with that deep light in her eyes. Ah! those eyes have + driven me to despair and made me fear that I am no great painter after + all, in spite of what my friends tell me who come in to smoke my good + cigars and praise my brush. I can get the brow and hair, and mouth and + pose, but the eyes! the eyes elude me—and the faces of Mrs. Mavor on + my wall, that the men praise and rave over, are not such as I could show + to any of the men from the mountains. + </p> + <p> + Graeme’s letters tell me chiefly about Craig and his doings, and about old + man Nelson; while from Craig I hear about Graeme, and how he and Nelson + are standing at his back, and doing what they can to fill the gap that + never can be filled. The three are much together, I can see, and I am glad + for them all, but chiefly for Craig, whose face, grief-stricken but + resolute, and often gentle as a woman’s, will not leave me nor let me rest + in peace. + </p> + <p> + The note of thanks he sent me was entirely characteristic. There were no + heroics, much less pining or self-pity. It was simple and manly, not + ignoring the pain but making much of the joy. And then they had their work + to do. That note, so clear, so manly, so nobly sensible, stiffens my back + yet at times. + </p> + <p> + In the spring came the startling news that Black Rock would soon be no + more. The mines were to close down on April 1. The company, having allured + the confiding public with enticing descriptions of marvellous drifts, + veins, assays, and prospects, and having expended vast sums of the + public’s money in developing the mines till the assurance of their + reliability was absolutely final, calmly shut down and vanished. With + their vanishing vanishes Black Rock, not without loss and much deep + cursing on the part of the men brought some hundreds of miles to aid the + company in its extraordinary and wholly inexplicable game. + </p> + <p> + Personally it grieved me to think that my plan of returning to Black Rock + could never be carried out. It was a great compensation, however, that the + three men most representative to me of that life were soon to visit me + actually in my own home and den. Graeme’s letter said that in one month + they might be expected to appear. At least he and Nelson were soon to + come, and Craig would soon follow. + </p> + <p> + On receiving the great news, I at once looked up young Nelson and his + sister, and we proceeded to celebrate the joyful prospect with a specially + good dinner. I found the greatest delight in picturing the joy and pride + of the old man in his children, whom he had not seen for fifteen or + sixteen years. The mother had died some five years before, then the farm + was sold, and the brother and sister came into the city; and any father + might be proud of them. The son was a well-made young fellow, handsome + enough, thoughtful, and solid-looking. The girl reminded me of her father. + The same resolution was seen in mouth and jaw, and the same passion + slumbered in the dark grey eyes. She was not beautiful, but she carried + herself well, and one would always look at her twice. It would be worth + something to see the meeting between father and daughter. + </p> + <p> + But fate, the greatest artist of us all, takes little count of the careful + drawing and the bright colouring of our fancy’s pictures, but with rude + hand deranges all, and with one swift sweep paints out the bright and + paints in the dark. And this trick he served me when, one June night, + after long and anxious waiting for some word from the west, my door + suddenly opened and Graeme walked in upon me like a spectre, grey and + voiceless. My shout of welcome was choked back by the look in his face, + and I could only gaze at him and wait for his word. He gripped my hand, + tried to speak, but failed to make words come. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sit down, old man,’ I said, pushing, him into my chair, ‘and take your + time.’ + </p> + <p> + He obeyed, looking up at me with burning, sleepless eyes. My heart was + sore for his misery, and I said: ‘Don’t mind, old chap; it can’t be so + awfully bad. You’re here safe and sound at any rate,’ and so I went on to + give him time. But he shuddered and looked round and groaned. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now look here, Graeme, let’s have it. When did you land here? Where is + Nelson? Why didn’t you bring him up?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He is at the station in his coffin,’ he answered slowly. + </p> + <p> + ‘In his coffin?’ I echoed, my beautiful pictures all vanishing. ‘How was + it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Through my cursed folly,’ he groaned bitterly. + </p> + <p> + ‘What happened?’ I asked. But ignoring my question, he said: ‘I must see + his children. I have not slept for four nights. I hardly know what I am + doing; but I can’t rest till I see his children. I promised him. Get them + for me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To-morrow will do. Go to sleep now, and we shall arrange everything + to-morrow,’ I urged. + </p> + <p> + ‘No!’ he said fiercely; ‘to-night—now!’ + </p> + <p> + In half an hour they were listening, pale and grief-stricken, to the story + of their father’s death. + </p> + <p> + Poor Graeme was relentless in his self-condemnation as he told how, + through his ‘cursed folly,’ old Nelson was killed. The three, Craig, + Graeme, and Nelson, had come as far as Victoria together. There they left + Craig, and came on to San Francisco. In an evil hour Graeme met a + companion of other and evil days, and it was not long till the old fever + came upon him. + </p> + <p> + In vain Nelson warned and pleaded. The reaction from the monotony and + poverty of camp life to the excitement and luxury of the San Francisco + gaming palaces swung Graeme quite off his feet, and all that Nelson could + do was to follow from place to place and keep watch. + </p> + <p> + ‘And there he would sit,’ said Graeme in a hard, bitter voice, ‘waiting + and watching often till the grey morning light, while my madness held me + fast to the table. One night,’ here he paused a moment, put his face in + his hands and shuddered; but quickly he was master of himself again, and + went on in the same hard voice—‘One night my partner and I were + playing two men who had done us up before. I knew they were cheating, but + could not detect them. Game after game they won, till I was furious at my + stupidity in not being able to catch them. Happening to glance at Nelson + in the corner, I caught a meaning look, and looking again, he threw me a + signal. I knew at once what the fraud was, and next game charged the + fellow with it. He gave me the lie; I struck his mouth, but before I could + draw my gun, his partner had me by the arms. What followed I hardly know. + While I was struggling to get free, I saw him reach for his weapon; but, + as he drew it, Nelson sprang across the table, and bore him down. When the + row was ever, three men lay on the floor. One was Nelson; he took the shot + meant for me.’ + </p> + <p> + Again the story paused. + </p> + <p> + ‘And the man that shot him?’ + </p> + <p> + I started at the intense fierceness in the voice, and, looking upon the + girl, saw her eyes blazing with a terrible light. + </p> + <p> + ‘He is dead,’ answered Graeme indifferently. + </p> + <p> + ‘You killed him?’ she asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + Graeme looked at her curiously, and answered slowly— + </p> + <p> + ‘I did not mean to. He came at me. I struck him harder than I knew. He + never moved.’ + </p> + <p> + She drew a sigh of satisfaction, and waited. + </p> + <p> + ‘I got him to a private ward, had the best doctor in the city, and sent + for Craig to Victoria. For three days we thought he would live—he + was keen to get home; but by the time Craig came we had given up hope. Oh, + but I was thankful to see Craig come in, and the joy in the old man’s eyes + was beautiful to see. There was no pain at last, and no fear. He would not + allow me to reproach myself, saying over and over, “You would have done + the same for me”—as I would, fast enough—“and it is better me + than you. I am old and done; you will do much good yet for the boys.” And + he kept looking at me till I could only promise to do my best. + </p> + <p> + ‘But I am glad I told him how much good he had done me during the last + year, for he seemed to think that too good to be true. And when Craig told + him how he had helped the boys in the camp, and how Sandy and Baptiste and + the Campbells would always be better men for his life among them, the old + man’s face actually shone, as if light were coming through. And with + surprise and joy he kept on saying, “Do you think so? Do you think so? + Perhaps so, perhaps so.” At the last he talked of Christmas night at the + camp. You were there, you remember. Craig had been holding a service, and + something happened, I don’t know what, but they both knew.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I know,’ I said, and I saw again the picture of the old man under the + pine, upon his knees in the snow, with his face turned up to the stars. + </p> + <p> + ‘Whatever it was, it was in his mind at the very last, and I can never + forget his face as he turned it to Craig. One hears of such things: I had + often, but had never put much faith in them; but joy, rapture, triumph, + these are what were in his face, as he said, his breath coming short, “You + said—He wouldn’t—fail me—you were right—not once—not + once—He stuck to me—I’m glad he told me—thank God—for + you—you showed—me—I’ll see Him—and—tell Him—” + And Craig, kneeling beside him so steady—I was behaving like a fool—smiled + down through his streaming tears into the dim eyes so brightly, till they + could see no more. Thank him for that! He helped the old man through, and + he helped me too, that night, thank God!’ And Graeme’s voice, hard till + now, broke in a sob. + </p> + <p> + He had forgotten us, and was back beside his passing friend, and all his + self-control could not keep back the flowing tears. + </p> + <p> + ‘It was his life for mine,’ he said huskily. + </p> + <p> + The brother and sister were quietly weeping, but spoke no word, though I + knew Graeme was waiting for them. + </p> + <p> + I took up the word, and told of what I had known of Nelson, and his + influence upon the men of Black Rock. They listened eagerly enough, but + still without speaking. There seemed nothing to say, till I suggested to + Graeme that he must get some rest. Then the girl turned to him, and, + impulsively putting out her hand, said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, it is all so sad; but how can we ever thank you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank me!’ gasped Graeme. ‘Can you forgive me? I brought him to his + death.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no! You must not say so,’ she answered hurriedly. ‘You would have + done the same for him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘God knows I would,’ said Graeme earnestly; ‘and God bless you for your + words!’ And I was thankful to see the tears start in his dry, burning + eyes. + </p> + <p> + We carried him to the old home in the country, that he might lie by the + side of the wife he had loved and wronged. A few friends met us at the + wayside station, and followed in sad procession along the country road, + that wound past farms and through woods, and at last up to the ascent + where the quaint, old wooden church, black with the rains and snows of + many years, stood among its silent graves. The little graveyard sloped + gently towards the setting sun, and from it one could see, far on every + side, the fields of grain and meadowland that wandered off over softly + undulating hills to meet the maple woods at the horizon, dark, green, and + cool. Here and there white farmhouses, with great barns standing near, + looked out from clustering orchards. + </p> + <p> + Up the grass-grown walk, and through the crowding mounds, over which + waves, uncut, the long, tangling grass, we bear our friend, and let him + gently down into the kindly bosom of mother earth, dark, moist, and warm. + The sound of a distant cowbell mingles with the voice of the last prayer; + the clods drop heavily with heart-startling echo; the mound is heaped and + shaped by kindly friends, sharing with one another the task; the long + rough sods are laid over and patted into place; the old minister takes + farewell in a few words of gentle sympathy; the brother and sister, with + lingering looks at the two graves side by side, the old and the new, step + into the farmer’s carriage, and drive away; the sexton locks the gate and + goes home, and we are left outside alone. + </p> + <p> + Then we went back and stood by Nelson’s grave. + </p> + <p> + After a long silence Graeme spoke. + </p> + <p> + ‘Connor, he did not grudge his life to me—and I think’—and + here the words came slowly—‘I understand now what that means, “Who + loved me and gave Himself for me.”’ + </p> + <p> + Then taking off his hat, he said reverently, ‘By God’s help Nelson’s life + shall not end, but shall go on. Yes, old man!’ looking down upon the + grave, ‘I’m with you’; and lifting up his face to the calm sky, ‘God help + me to be true.’ + </p> + <p> + Then he turned and walked briskly away, as one might who had pressing + business, or as soldiers march from a comrade’s grave to a merry tune, not + that they have forgotten, but they have still to fight. + </p> + <p> + And this was the way old man Nelson came home. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTERS XIV. + </h2> + <h3> + GRAEME’S NEW BIRTH + </h3> + <p> + There was more left in that grave than old man Nelson’s dead body. It + seemed to me that Graeme left part, at least, of his old self there, with + his dead friend and comrade, in the quiet country churchyard. I waited + long for the old careless, reckless spirit to appear, but he was never the + same again. The change was unmistakable, but hard to define. He seemed to + have resolved his life into a definite purpose. He was hardly so + comfortable a fellow to be with; he made me feel even more lazy and + useless than was my wont; but I respected him more, and liked him none the + less. As a lion he was not a success. He would not roar. This was + disappointing to me, and to his friends and mine, who had been waiting his + return with eager expectation of tales of thrilling and bloodthirsty + adventure. + </p> + <p> + His first days were spent in making right, or as nearly right as he could, + the break that drove him to the west. His old firm (and I have had more + respect for the humanity of lawyers ever since) behaved really well. They + proved the restoration of their confidence in his integrity and ability by + offering him a place in the firm, which, however, he would not accept. + Then, when he felt clean, as he said, he posted off home, taking me with + him. During the railway journey of four hours he hardly spoke; but when we + had left the town behind, and had fairly got upon the country road that + led toward the home ten miles away, his speech came to him in a great + flow. His spirits ran over. He was like a boy returning from his first + college term. His very face wore the boy’s open, innocent, earnest look + that used to attract men to him in his first college year. His delight in + the fields and woods, in the sweet country air and the sunlight, was + without bound. How often had we driven this road together in the old days! + </p> + <p> + Every turn was familiar. The swamp where the tamaracks stood straight and + slim out of their beds of moss; the brule, as we used to call it, where + the pine-stumps, huge and blackened, were half-hidden by the new growth of + poplars and soft maples; the big hill, where we used to get out and walk + when the roads were bad; the orchards, where the harvest apples were best + and most accessible—all had their memories. + </p> + <p> + It was one of those perfect afternoons that so often come in the early + Canadian summer, before Nature grows weary with the heat. The white gravel + road was trimmed on either side with turf of living green, close cropped + by the sheep that wandered in flocks along its whole length. Beyond the + picturesque snake-fences stretched the fields of springing grain, of + varying shades of green, with here and there a dark brown patch, marking a + turnip field or summer fallow, and far back were the woods of maple and + beech and elm, with here and there the tufted top of a mighty pine, the + lonely representative of a vanished race, standing clear above the humbler + trees. + </p> + <p> + As we drove through the big swamp, where the yawning, haunted gully + plunges down to its gloomy depths, Graeme reminded me of that night when + our horse saw something in that same gully, and refused to go past; and I + felt again, though it was broad daylight, something of the grue that + shivered down my back, as I saw in the moonlight the gleam of a white + thing far through the pine trunks. + </p> + <p> + As we came nearer home the houses became familiar. Every house had its + tale: we had eaten or slept in most of them; we had sampled apples, and + cherries, and plums from their orchards, openly as guests, or secretly as + marauders, under cover of night—the more delightful way, I fear. Ah! + happy days, with these innocent crimes and fleeting remorses, how bravely + we faced them, and how gaily we lived them, and how yearningly we look + back at them now! The sun was just dipping into the tree-tops of the + distant woods behind as we came to the top of the last hill that + overlooked the valley, in which lay the village of Riverdale. Wooded hills + stood about it on three sides, and, where the hills faded out, there lay + the mill-pond sleeping and smiling in the sun. Through the village ran the + white road, up past the old frame church, and on to the white manse + standing among the trees. That was Graeme’s home, and mine too, for I had + never known another worthy of the name. We held up our team to look down + over the valley, with its rampart of wooded hills, its shining pond, and + its nestling village, and on past to the church and the white manse, + hiding among the trees. The beauty, the peace, the warm, loving homeliness + of the scene came about our hearts, but, being men, we could find no + words. + </p> + <p> + ‘Let’s go,’ cried Graeme, and down the hill we tore and rocked and swayed + to the amazement of the steady team, whose education from the earliest + years had impressed upon their minds the criminality of attempting to do + anything but walk carefully down a hill, at least for two-thirds of the + way. Through the village, in a cloud of dust, we swept, catching a glimpse + of a well-known face here and there, and flinging a salutation as we + passed, leaving the owner of the face rooted to his place in astonishment + at the sight of Graeme whirling on in his old-time, well-known reckless + manner. Only old Dunc. M’Leod was equal to the moment, for as Graeme + called out, ‘Hello, Dunc.!’ the old man lifted up his hands, and called + back in an awed voice: ‘Bless my soul! is it yourself?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Stands his whisky well, poor old chap!’ was Graeme’s comment. + </p> + <p> + As we neared the church he pulled up his team, and we went quietly past + the sleepers there, then again on the full run down the gentle slope, over + the little brook, and up to the gate. He had hardly got his team pulled up + before, flinging me the lines, he was out over the wheel, for coming down + the walk, with her hands lifted high, was a dainty little lady, with the + face of an angel. In a moment Graeme had her in his arms. I heard the + faint cry, ‘My boy, my boy,’ and got down on the other side to attend to + my off horse, surprised to find my hands trembling and my eyes full of + tears. Back upon the steps stood an old gentleman, with white hair and + flowing beard, handsome, straight, and stately—Graeme’s father, + waiting his turn. + </p> + <p> + ‘Welcome home, my lad,’ was his greeting, as he kissed his son, and the + tremor of his voice, and the sight of the two men kissing each other, like + women, sent me again to my horses’ heads. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s Connor, mother!’ shouted out Graeme, and the dainty little lady, + in her black silk and white lace, came out to me quickly, with + outstretched hands. + </p> + <p> + ‘You, too, are welcome home,’ she said, and kissed me. + </p> + <p> + I stood with my hat off, saying something about being glad to come, but + wishing that I could get away before I should make quite a fool of myself. + For as I looked down upon that beautiful face, pale, except for a faint + flush upon each faded cheek, and read the story of pain endured and + conquered, and as I thought of all the long years of waiting and of vain + hoping, I found my throat dry and sore, and the words would not come. But + her quick sense needed no words, and she came to my help. + </p> + <p> + ‘You will find Jack at the stable,’ she said, smiling; ‘he ought to have + been here.’ + </p> + <p> + The stable! Why had I not thought of that before? Thankfully now my words + came— + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, certainly, I’ll find him, Mrs. Graeme. I suppose he’s as much of a + scapegrace as ever, and off I went to look up Graeme’s young brother, who + had given every promise in the old days of developing into as stirring a + rascal as one could desire; but who, as I found out later, had not lived + these years in his mother’s home for nothing. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, Jack’s a good boy,’ she answered, smiling again, as she turned toward + the other two, now waiting for her upon the walk. + </p> + <p> + The week that followed was a happy one for us all; but for the mother it + was full to the brim with joy. Her sweet face was full of content, and in + her eyes rested a great peace. Our days were spent driving about among the + hills, or strolling through the maple woods, or down into the tamarack + swamp, where the pitcher plants and the swamp lilies and the marigold + waved above the deep moss. In the evenings we sat under the trees on the + lawn till the stars came out and the night dews drove us in. Like two + lovers, Graeme and his mother would wander off together, leaving Jack and + me to each other. Jack was reading for divinity, and was really a fine, + manly fellow, with all his brother’s turn for rugby, and I took to him + amazingly; but after the day was over we would gather about the supper + table, and the talk would be of all things under heaven—art, + football, theology. The mother would lead in all. How quick she was, how + bright her fancy, how subtle her intellect, and through all a gentle + grace, very winning and beautiful to see! + </p> + <p> + Do what I would, Graeme would talk little of the mountains and his life + there. + </p> + <p> + ‘My lion will not roar, Mrs. Graeme,’ I complained; ‘he simply will not.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You should twist his tail,’ said Jack. + </p> + <p> + ‘That seems to be the difficulty, Jack,’ said his mother, ‘to get hold of + his tale.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, mother,’ groaned Jack; ‘you never did such a thing before! How could + you? Is it this baleful Western influence?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall reform, Jack,’ she replied brightly. + </p> + <p> + ‘But, seriously, Graeme,’ I remonstrated, ‘you ought to tell your people + of your life—that free, glorious life in the mountains.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Free! Glorious! To some men, perhaps!’ said Graeme, and then fell into + silence. + </p> + <p> + But I saw Graeme as a new man the night he talked theology with his + father. The old minister was a splendid Calvinist, of heroic type, and as + he discoursed of God’s sovereignty and election, his face glowed and his + voice rang out. + </p> + <p> + Graeme listened intently, now and then putting in a question, as one would + a keen knife-thrust into a foe. But the old man knew his ground, and moved + easily among his ideas, demolishing the enemy as he appeared, with jaunty + grace. In the full flow of his triumphant argument, Graeme turned to him + with sudden seriousness. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, father! I was born a Calvinist, and I can’t see how any one + with a level head can hold anything else, than that the Almighty has some + idea as to how He wants to run His universe, and He means to carry out His + idea, and is carrying it out; but what would you do in a case like this?’ + Then he told him the story of poor Billy Breen, his fight and his defeat. + </p> + <p> + ‘Would you preach election to that chap?’ + </p> + <p> + The mother’s eyes were shining with tears. + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman blew his nose like a trumpet, and then said gravely— + </p> + <p> + ‘No, my boy, you don’t feed babes with meat. But what came to him?’ + </p> + <p> + Then Graeme asked me to finish the tale. After I had finished the story of + Billy’s final triumph and of Craig’s part in it, they sat long silent, + till the minister, clearing his throat hard and blowing his nose more like + a trumpet than ever, said with great emphasis— + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank God for such a man in such a place! I wish there were more of us + like him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I should like to see you out there, sir,’ said Graeme admiringly; ‘you’d + get them, but you wouldn’t have time for election.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, yes!’ said his father warmly; ‘I should love to have a chance just + to preach election to these poor lads. Would I were twenty years younger!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is worth a man’s life,’ said Graeme earnestly. His younger brother + turned his face eagerly toward the mother. For answer she slipped her hand + into his and said softly, while her eyes shone like stars— + </p> + <p> + ‘Some day, Jack, perhaps! God knows.’ But Jack only looked steadily at + her, smiling a little and patting her hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’d shine there, mother,’ said Graeme, smiling upon her; ‘you’d better + come with me.’ She started, and said faintly— + </p> + <p> + ‘With you?’ It was the first hint he had given of his purpose. ‘You are + going back?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What! as a missionary?’ said Jack. + </p> + <p> + ‘Not to preach, Jack; I’m not orthodox enough,’ looking at his father and + shaking his head; ‘but to build railroads and lend a hand to some poor + chap, if I can.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Could you not find work nearer home, my boy?’ asked the father; ‘there is + plenty of both kinds near us here, surely.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Lots of work, but not mine, I fear,’ answered Graeme, keeping his eyes + away from his mother’s face. ‘A man must do his own work.’ + </p> + <p> + His voice was quiet and resolute, and glancing at the beautiful face at + the end of the table, I saw in the pale lips and yearning eyes that the + mother was offering up her firstborn, that ancient sacrifice. But not all + the agony of sacrifice could wring from her entreaty or complaint in the + hearing of her sons. That was for other ears and for the silent hours of + the night. And next morning when she came down to meet us her face was wan + and weary, but it wore the peace of victory and a glory not of earth. Her + greeting was full of dignity, sweet and gentle; but when she came to + Graeme she lingered over him and kissed him twice. And that was all that + any of us ever saw of that sore fight. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the week I took leave of them, and last of all of the + mother. + </p> + <p> + She hesitated just a moment, then suddenly put her hands upon my shoulders + and kissed me, saying softly, ‘You are his friend; you will sometimes come + to me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Gladly, if I may,’ I hastened to answer, for the sweet, brave face was + too much to bear; and, till she left us for that world of which she was a + part, I kept my word, to my own great and lasting good. When Graeme met me + in the city at the end of the summer, he brought me her love, and then + burst forth— + </p> + <p> + ‘Connor, do you know, I have just discovered my mother! I have never known + her till this summer.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘More fool you,’ I answered, for often had I, who had never known a + mother, envied him his. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, that is true,’ he answered slowly; ‘but you cannot see until you + have eyes.’ + </p> + <p> + Before he set out again for the west I gave him a supper, asking the men + who had been with us in the old ‘Varsity days. I was doubtful as to the + wisdom of this, and was persuaded only by Graeme’s eager assent to my + proposal. + </p> + <p> + ‘Certainly, let’s have them,’ he said; ‘I shall be awfully glad to see + them; great stuff they were.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, I don’t know, Graeme; you see—well—hang it!—you + know—you’re different, you know.’ + </p> + <p> + He looked at me curiously. + </p> + <p> + ‘I hope I can still stand a good supper, and if the boys can’t stand me, + why, I can’t help it. I’ll do anything but roar, and don’t you begin to + work off your menagerie act—now, you hear me!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, it is rather hard lines that when I have been talking up my lion + for a year, and then finally secure him, that he will not roar.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Serve you right,’ he replied, quite heartlessly; ‘but I’ll tell you what + I’ll do, I’ll feed! Don’t you worry,’ he adds soothingly; ‘the supper will + go.’ + </p> + <p> + And go it did. The supper was of the best; the wines first-class. I had + asked Graeme about the wines. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do as you like, old man,’ was his answer; ‘it’s your supper, but,’ he + added, ‘are the men all straight?’ + </p> + <p> + I ran them over in my mind. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes; I think so.’ + </p> + <p> + If not, don’t you help them down; and anyway, you can’t be too careful. + But don’t mind me; I am quit of the whole business from this out.’ So I + ventured wines, for the last time, as it happened. + </p> + <p> + We were a quaint combination. Old ‘Beetles,’ whose nickname was prophetic + of his future fame as a bugman, as the fellows irreverently said; ‘Stumpy’ + Smith, a demon bowler; Polly Lindsay, slow as ever and as sure as when he + held the half-back line with Graeme, and used to make my heart stand still + with terror at his cool deliberation. But he was never known to fumble nor + to funk, and somehow he always got us out safe enough. Then there was + Rattray—‘Rat’ for short—who, from a swell, had developed into + a cynic with a sneer, awfully clever and a good enough fellow at heart. + Little ‘Wig’ Martin, the sharpest quarter ever seen, and big Barney Lundy, + centre scrimmage, whose terrific roar and rush had often struck terror to + the enemy’s heart, and who was Graeme’s slave. Such was the party. + </p> + <p> + As the supper went on my fears began to vanish, for if Graeme did not + ‘roar,’ he did the next best thing—ate and talked quite up to his + old form. Now we played our matches over again, bitterly lamenting the + ‘if’s’ that had lost us the championships, and wildly approving the + tackles that had saved, and the runs that had made the ‘Varsity crowd go + mad with delight and had won for us. And as their names came up in talk, + we learned how life had gone with those who had been our comrades of ten + years ago. Some, success had lifted to high places; some, failure had left + upon the rocks, and a few lay in their graves. + </p> + <p> + But as the evening wore on, I began to wish that I had left out the wines, + for the men began to drop an occasional oath, though I had let them know + during the summer that Graeme was not the man he had been. But Graeme + smoked and talked and heeded not, till Rattray swore by that name most + sacred of all ever borne by man. Then Graeme opened upon him in a cool, + slow way— + </p> + <p> + ‘What an awful fool a man is, to damn things as you do, Rat. Things are + not damned. It is men who are; and that is too bad to be talked much about + but when a man flings out of his foul mouth the name of Jesus Christ’—here + he lowered his voice—‘it’s a shame—it’s more, it’s a crime.’ + </p> + <p> + There was dead silence, then Rattray replied— + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose you’re right enough, it is bad form; but crime is rather + strong, I think.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not if you consider who it is,’ said Graeme with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, come now,’ broke in Beetles. ‘Religion is all right, is a good thing, + and I believe a necessary thing for the race, but no one takes seriously + any longer the Christ myth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What about your mother, Beetles?’ put in Wig Martin. + </p> + <p> + Beetles consigned him to the pit and was silent, for his father was an + Episcopal clergyman, and his mother a saintly woman. + </p> + <p> + ‘I fooled with that for some time, Beetles, but it won’t do. You can’t + build a religion that will take the devil out of a man on a myth. That + won’t do the trick. I don’t want to argue about it, but I am quite + convinced the myth theory is not reasonable, and besides, it wont work.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Will the other work?’ asked Rattray, with a sneer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Sure!’ said Grame; ‘I’ve seen it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Where?’ challenged Rattray. ‘I haven’t seen much of it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, you have, Rattray, you know you have,’ said Wig again. But Rattray + ignored him. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you, boys,’ said Graeme. ‘I want you to know, anyway, why I + believe what I do.’ + </p> + <p> + Then he told them the story of old man Nelson, from the old coast days, + before I knew him, to the end. He told the story well. The stern fight and + the victory of the life, and the self-sacrifice and the pathos of the + death appealed to these men, who loved fight and could understand + sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s why I believe in Jesus Christ, and that’s why I think it a crime + to fling His name about!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wish to Heaven I could say that,’ said Beetles. + </p> + <p> + ‘Keep wishing hard enough and it will come to you,’ said Graeme. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, old chap,’ said Rattray; ‘you’re quite right about this; I’m + willing to own up. Wig is correct. I know a few, at least, of that stamp, + but most of those who go in for that sort of thing are not much account’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For ten years, Rattray,’ said Graeme in a downright, matter-of-fact way, + ‘you and I have tried this sort of thing’—tapping a bottle—‘and + we got out of it all there is to be got, paid well for it, too, and—faugh! + you know it’s not good enough, and the more you go in for it, the more you + curse yourself. So I have quit this and I am going in for the other.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What! going in for preaching?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Not much—railroading—money in it—and lending a hand to + fellows on the rocks.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, don’t you want a centre forward?’ said big Barney in his deep + voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘Every man must play his game in his place, old chap. I’d like to see you + tackle it, though, right well,’ said Graeme earnestly. And so he did, in + the after years, and good tackling it was. But that is another story. + </p> + <p> + ‘But, I say, Graeme,’ persisted Beetles, ‘about this business, do you mean + to say you go the whole thing—Jonah, you know, and the rest of it?’ + </p> + <p> + Graeme hesitated, then said— + </p> + <p> + ‘I haven’t much of a creed, Beetles; don’t really know how much I believe. + But,’ by this time he was standing, ‘I do know that good is good, and bad + is bad, and good and bad are not the same. And I know a man’s a fool to + follow the one, and a wise man to follow the other, and,’ lowering his + voice, ‘I believe God is at the back of a man who wants to get done with + bad. I’ve tried all that folly,’ sweeping his hand over the glasses and + bottles, ‘and all that goes with it, and I’ve done with it’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll go you that far,’ roared big Barney, following his old captain as of + yore. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good man,’ said Graeme, striking hands with him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Put me down,’ said little Wig cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + Then I took up the word, for there rose before me the scene in the League + saloon, and I saw the beautiful face with the deep shining eyes, and I was + speaking for her again. I told them of Craig and his fight for these men’s + lives. I told them, too, of how I had been too indolent to begin. ‘But,’ I + said, ‘I am going this far from to-night,’ and I swept the bottles into + the champagne tub. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say,’ said Polly Lindsay, coming up in his old style, slow but sure, + ‘let’s all go in, say for five years.’ And so we did. We didn’t sign + anything, but every man shook hands with Graeme. + </p> + <p> + And as I told Craig about this a year later, when he was on his way back + from his Old Land trip to join Graeme in the mountains, he threw up his + head in the old way and said, ‘It was well done. It must have been worth + seeing. Old man Nelson’s work is not done yet. Tell me again,’ and he made + me go over the whole scene with all the details put in. + </p> + <p> + But when I told Mrs. Mavor, after two years had gone, she only said, ‘Old + things are passed away, all things are become new’; but the light glowed + in her eyes till I could not see their colour. But all that, too, is + another story. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + COMING TO THEIR OWN + </h3> + <p> + A man with a conscience is often provoking, sometimes impossible. + Persuasion is lost upon him. He will not get angry, and he looks at one + with such a far-away expression in his face that in striving to persuade + him one feels earthly and even fiendish. At least this was my experience + with Craig. He spent a week with me just before he sailed for the Old + Land, for the purpose, as he said, of getting some of the coal dust and + other grime out of him. + </p> + <p> + He made me angry the last night of his stay, and all the more that he + remained quite sweetly unmoved. It was a strategic mistake of mine to tell + him how Nelson came home to us, and how Graeme stood up before the + ‘Varsity chaps at my supper and made his confession and confused Rattray’s + easy-stepping profanity, and started his own five-year league. For all + this stirred in Craig the hero, and he was ready for all sorts of heroic + nonsense, as I called it. We talked of everything but the one thing, and + about that we said not a word till, bending low to poke my fire and to + hide my face, I plunged— + </p> + <p> + ‘You will see her, of course?’ + </p> + <p> + He made no pretence of not understanding but answered— + </p> + <p> + ‘Of course.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s really no sense in her staying over there,’ I suggested. + </p> + <p> + ‘And yet she is a wise woman,’ he said, as if carefully considering the + question. + </p> + <p> + ‘Heaps of landlords never see their tenants, and they are none the worse.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The landlords?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, the tenants.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Probably, having such landlords.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And as for the old lady, there must be some one in the connection to whom + it would be a Godsend to care for her.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, Connor,’ he said quietly, ‘don’t. We have gone over all there is to + be said. Nothing new has come. Don’t turn it all up again.’ + </p> + <p> + Then I played the heathen and raged, as Graeme would have said, till Craig + smiled a little wearily and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘You exhaust yourself, old chap. Have a pipe, do’; and after a pause he + added in his own way, ‘What would you have? The path lies straight from my + feet. Should I quit it? I could not so disappoint you—and all of + them.’ + </p> + <p> + And I knew he was thinking of Graeme and the lads in the mountains he had + taught to be true men. It did not help my rage, but it checked my speech; + so I smoked in silence till he was moved to say— + </p> + <p> + ‘And after all, you know, old chap, there are great compensations for all + losses; but for the loss of a good conscience towards God, what can make + up?’ + </p> + <p> + But, all the same, I hoped for some better result from his visit to + Britain. It seemed to me that something must turn up to change such an + unbearable situation. + </p> + <p> + The year passed, however, and when I looked into Craig’s face again I knew + that nothing had been changed, and that he had come back to take up again + his life alone, more resolutely hopeful than ever. + </p> + <p> + But the year had left its mark upon him too. He was a broader and deeper + man. He had been living and thinking with men of larger ideas and richer + culture, and he was far too quick in sympathy with life to remain + untouched by his surroundings. He was more tolerant of opinions other than + his own, but more unrelenting in his fidelity to conscience and more + impatient of half-heartedness and self-indulgence. He was full of + reverence for the great scholars and the great leaders of men he had come + to know. + </p> + <p> + ‘Great, noble fellows they are, and extraordinarily modest,’ he said—‘that + is, the really great are modest. There are plenty of the other sort, + neither great nor modest. And the books to be read! I am quite hopeless + about my reading. It gave me a queer sensation to shake hands with a man + who had written a great book. To hear him make commonplace remarks, to + witness a faltering in knowledge—one expects these men to know + everything—and to experience respectful kindness at his hands!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What of the younger men?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Bright, keen, generous fellows. In things theoretical, omniscient; but in + things practical, quite helpless. They toss about great ideas as the + miners lumps of coal. They can call them by their book names easily + enough, but I often wondered whether they could put them into English. + Some of them I coveted for the mountains. Men with clear heads and big + hearts, and built after Sandy M’Naughton’s model. It does seem a sinful + waste of God’s good human stuff to see these fellows potter away their + lives among theories living and dead, and end up by producing a book! They + are all either making or going to make a book. A good thing we haven’t to + read them. But here and there among them is some quiet chap who will make + a book that men will tumble over each other to read.’ + </p> + <p> + Then we paused and looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well?’ I said. He understood me. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes!’ he answered slowly, ‘doing great work. Every one worships her just + as we do, and she is making them all do something worth while, as she used + to make us.’ + </p> + <p> + He spoke cheerfully and readily as if he were repeating a lesson well + learned, but he could not humbug me. I felt the heartache in the cheerful + tone. + </p> + <p> + ‘Tell me about her,’ I said, for I knew that if he would talk it would do + him good. And talk he did, often forgetting me, till, as I listened, I + found myself looking again into the fathomless eyes, and hearing again the + heart-searching voice. I saw her go in and out of the little red-tiled + cottages and down the narrow back lanes of the village; I heard her voice + in a sweet, low song by the bed of a dying child, or pouring forth floods + of music in the great new hall of the factory town near by. But I could + not see, though he tried to show me, the stately gracious lady receiving + the country folk in her home. He did not linger over that scene, but went + back again to the gate-cottage where she had taken him one day to see + Billy Breen’s mother. + </p> + <p> + ‘I found the old woman knew all about me,’ he said, simply enough; ‘but + there were many things about Billy she had never heard, and I was glad to + put her right on some points, though Mrs. Mavor would not hear it.’ + </p> + <p> + He sat silent for a little, looking into the coals; then went on in a + soft, quiet voice— + </p> + <p> + ‘It brought back the mountains and the old days to hear again Billy’s + tones in his mother’s voice, and to see her sitting there in the very + dress she wore the night of the League, you remember—some soft stuff + with black lace about it—and to hear her sing as she did for Billy—ah! + ah!’ His voice unexpectedly broke, but in a moment he was master of + himself and begged me to forgive his weakness. I am afraid I said words + that should not be said—a thing I never do, except when suddenly and + utterly upset. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am getting selfish and weak,’ he said; ‘I must get to work. I am glad + to get to work. There is much to do, and it is worth while, if only to + keep one from getting useless and lazy.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Useless and lazy!’ I said to myself, thinking of my life beside his, and + trying to get command of my voice, so as not to make quite a fool of + myself. And for many a day those words goaded me to work and to the + exercise of some mild self-denial. But more than all else, after Craig had + gone back to the mountains, Graeme’s letters from the railway construction + camp stirred one to do unpleasant duty long postponed, and rendered + uncomfortable my hours of most luxurious ease. Many of the old gang were + with him, both of lumbermen and miners, and Craig was their minister. And + the letters told of how he laboured by day and by night along the line of + construction, carrying his tent and kit with him, preaching straight + sermons, watching by sick men, writing their letters, and winning their + hearts; making strong their lives, and helping them to die well when their + hour came. One day, these letters proved too much for me, and I packed + away my paints and brushes, and made my vow unto the Lord that I would be + ‘useless and lazy’ no longer, but would do something with myself. In + consequence, I found myself within three weeks walking the London + hospitals, finishing my course, that I might join that band of men who + were doing something with life, or, if throwing it away, were not losing + it for nothing. I had finished being a fool, I hoped, at least a fool of + the useless and luxurious kind. The letter that came from Graeme, in reply + to my request for a position on his staff, was characteristic of the man, + both new and old, full of gayest humour and of most earnest welcome to the + work. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Mavor’s reply was like herself— + </p> + <p> + ‘I knew you would not long be content with the making of pictures, which + the world does not really need, and would join your friends in the dear + West, making lives that the world needs so sorely.’ + </p> + <p> + But her last words touched me strangely— + </p> + <p> + ‘But be sure to be thankful every day for your privilege. . . . It will be + good to think of you all, with the glorious mountains about you, and + Christ’s own work in your hands. . . . Ah! how we would like to choose our + work, and the place in which to do it!’ + </p> + <p> + The longing did not appear in the words, but I needed no words to tell me + how deep and how constant it was. And I take some credit to myself, that + in my reply I gave her no bidding to join our band, but rather praised the + work she was doing in her place, telling her how I had heard of it from + Craig. + </p> + <p> + The summer found me religiously doing Paris and Vienna, gaining a more + perfect acquaintance with the extent and variety of my own ignorance, and + so fully occupied in this interesting and wholesome occupation that I fell + out with all my correspondents, with the result of weeks of silence + between us. + </p> + <p> + Two letters among the heap waiting on my table in London made my heart + beat quick, but with how different feelings: one from Graeme telling me + that Craig had been very ill, and that he was to take him home as soon as + he could be moved. Mrs. Mavor’s letter told me of the death of the old + lady, who had been her care for the past two years, and of her intention + to spend some months in her old home in Edinburgh. And this letter it is + that accounts for my presence in a miserable, dingy, dirty little hall + running off a close in the historic Cowgate, redolent of the glories of + the splendid past, and of the various odours of the evil-smelling present. + I was there to hear Mrs. Mavor sing to the crowd of gamins that thronged + the closes in the neighbourhood, and that had been gathered into a club by + ‘a fine leddie frae the West End,’ for the love of Christ and His lost. + This was an ‘At Home’ night, and the mothers and fathers, sisters and + brothers, of all ages and sizes were present. Of all the sad faces I had + ever seen, those mothers carried the saddest and most woe-stricken. + ‘Heaven pity us!’ I found myself saying; ‘is this the beautiful, the + cultured, the heaven-exalted city of Edinburgh? Will it not, for this, be + cast down into hell some day, if it repent not of its closes and their + dens of defilement? Oh! the utter weariness, the dazed hopelessness of the + ghastly faces! Do not the kindly, gentle church-going folk of the + crescents and the gardens see them in their dreams, or are their dreams + too heavenly for these ghastly faces to appear?’ + </p> + <p> + I cannot recall the programme of the evening, but in my memory-gallery is + a vivid picture of that face, sweet, sad, beautiful, alight with the deep + glow of her eyes, as she stood and sang to that dingy crowd. As I sat upon + the window-ledge listening to the voice with its flowing song, my thoughts + were far away, and I was looking down once more upon the eager, + coal-grimed faces in the rude little church in Black Rock. I was brought + back to find myself swallowing hard by an audible whisper from a wee + lassie to her mother— + </p> + <p> + ‘Mither! See till yon man. He’s greetin’.’ + </p> + <p> + When I came to myself she was singing ‘The Land o’ the Leal,’ the Scotch + ‘Jerusalem the Golden,’ immortal, perfect. It needed experience of the + hunger-haunted Cowgate closes, chill with the black mist of an eastern + haar, to feel the full bliss of the vision in the words— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘There’s nae sorrow there, Jean, + There’s neither cauld nor care, Jean, + The day is aye fair in + The Land o’ the Leal.’ +</pre> + <p> + A land of fair, warm days, untouched by sorrow and care, would be heaven + indeed to the dwellers of the Cowgate. + </p> + <p> + The rest of that evening is hazy enough to me now, till I find myself + opposite Mrs. Mavor at her fire, reading Graeme’s letter; then all is + vivid again. + </p> + <p> + I could not keep the truth from her. I knew it would be folly to try. So I + read straight on till I came to the words— + </p> + <p> + ‘He has had mountain fever, whatever that may be, and he will not pull up + again. If I can, I shall take him home to my mother’—when she + suddenly stretched out her hand, saying, ‘Oh, let me read!’ and I gave her + the letter. In a minute she had read it, and began almost breathlessly— + </p> + <p> + ‘Listen! my life is much changed. My mother-in-law is gone; she needs me + no longer. My solicitor tells me, too, that owing to unfortunate + investments there is need of money, so great need, that it is possible + that either the estates or the works must go. My cousin has his all in the + works—iron works, you know. It would be wrong to have him suffer. I + shall give up the estates—that is best.’ She paused. + </p> + <p> + ‘And come with me,’ I cried. + </p> + <p> + ‘When do you sail?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Next week,’ I answered eagerly. + </p> + <p> + She looked at me a few moments, and into her eyes there came a light soft + and tender, as she said— + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall go with you.’ + </p> + <p> + And so she did; and no old Roman in all the glory of a Triumph carried a + prouder heart than I, as I bore her and her little one from the train to + Graeme’s carriage, crying— + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve got her.’ + </p> + <p> + But his was the better sense, for he stood waving his hat and shouting— + </p> + <p> + ‘He’s all right,’ at which Mrs. Mavor grew white; but when she shook hands + with him, the red was in her cheek again. + </p> + <p> + ‘It was the cable did it,’ went on Graeme. ‘Connor’s a great doctor! His + first case will make him famous. Good prescription—after mountain + fever try a cablegram!’ And the red grew deeper in the beautiful face + beside us. + </p> + <p> + Never did the country look so lovely. The woods were in their gayest + autumn dress; the brown fields were bathed in a purple haze; the air was + sweet and fresh with a suspicion of the coming frosts of winter. But in + spite of all the road seemed long, and it was as if hours had gone before + our eyes fell upon the white manse standing among the golden leaves. + </p> + <p> + ‘Let them go,’ I cried, as Graeme paused to take in the view, and down the + sloping dusty road we flew on the dead run. + </p> + <p> + ‘Reminds one a little of Abe’s curves,’ said Graeme, as we drew up at the + gate. But I answered him not, for I was introducing to each other the two + best women in the world. As I was about to rush into the house, Graeme + seized me by the collar, saying— + </p> + <p> + ‘Hold on, Connor! you forget your place, you’re next.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, certainly,’ I cried, thankfully enough; ‘what an ass I am!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Quite true,’ said Graeme solemnly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Where is he?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘At this present moment?’ he asked, in a shocked voice. ‘Why, Connor, you + surprise me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, I see!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ he went on gravely; ‘you may trust my mother to be discreetly + attending to her domestic duties; she is a great woman, my mother.’ + </p> + <p> + I had no doubt of it, for at that moment she came out to us with little + Marjorie in her arms. + </p> + <p> + ‘You have shown Mrs. Mavor to her room, mother, I hope,’ said Graeme; but + she only smiled and said— + </p> + <p> + ‘Run away with your horses, you silly boy,’ at which he solemnly shook his + head. ‘Ah, mother, you are deep—who would have thought it of you?’ + </p> + <p> + That evening the manse overflowed with joy, and the days that followed + were like dreams set to sweet music. + </p> + <p> + But for sheer wild delight, nothing in my memory can quite come up to the + demonstration organised by Graeme, with assistance from Nixon, Shaw, + Sandy, Abe, Geordie, and Baptiste, in honour of the arrival in camp of Mr. + and Mrs. Craig. And, in my opinion, it added something to the occasion, + that after all the cheers for Mr. and Mrs. Craig had died away, and after + all the hats had come down, Baptiste, who had never taken his eyes from + that radiant face, should suddenly have swept the crowd into a perfect + storm of cheers by excitedly seizing his tuque, and calling out in his + shrill voice— + </p> + <p> + ‘By gar! Tree cheer for Mrs. Mavor.’ + </p> + <p> + And for many a day the men of Black Rock would easily fall into the old + and well-loved name; but up and down the line of construction, in all the + camps beyond the Great Divide, the new name became as dear as the old had + ever been in Black Rock. + </p> + <p> + Those old wild days are long since gone into the dim distance of the past. + They will not come again, for we have fallen into quiet times; but often + in my quietest hours I feel my heart pause in its beat to hear again that + strong, clear voice, like the sound of a trumpet, bidding us to be men; + and I think of them all—Graeme, their chief, Sandy, Baptiste, + Geordie, Abe, the Campbells, Nixon, Shaw, all stronger, better for their + knowing of him, and then I think of Billy asleep under the pines, and of + old man Nelson with the long grass waving over him in the quiet + churchyard, and all my nonsense leaves me, and I bless the Lord for all + His benefits, but chiefly for the day I met the missionary of Black Rock + in the lumber-camp among the Selkirks. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Black Rock, by Ralph Connor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACK ROCK *** + +***** This file should be named 3245-h.htm or 3245-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/3245/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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