Cedar Creek Part 32

observed Arthur. 'Bob, suppose we paddle over and try for ducks in the rice-beds, to the lee of that island.'

Here were some hundred yards of shallow water, filled with the tall graceful plant, named by the Jesuits 'folle avoine,' and by the English 'wild rice.' The long drooping ears filled with very large grains, black outside and white within, shook down their contents into the silt at bottom with every movement which waved their seven-feet stems. Arthur knew it as a noted haunt of wild duck, a cloud of which arose when he fired.

'It was here we met all the pigeons the other day,' said he. 'Those trees were more like the inside of a feather-bed than anything else, so covered were they with fluttering ma.s.ses of birds; you couldn't see a bit of the foliage; and 'twas quite amusing to watch some of them lighting on the rice, which wasn't strong enough to support them, and trying to pick out the grains. As they could neither swim nor stand, they must have been thoroughly tantalized. Don't you remember, Armytage?'

But their main business, the plums, must be attended to; the islet was found which was bordered with festoons of them, hanging over the edge in the coves; and after due feasting on the delicious aromatic fruit, they gathered some basketsful. When that was done, it was high time to paddle homewards; the sun was gliding forth from the roseate vault over the western rim, and a silvery haze rose from the waters, softly veiling the brilliant landscape.

'A great improvement to your charcoal forest, it must be owned,' said Robert, pointing Armytage to where the sharp black tops of rampikes projected over the mist. The young man did not relish allusions to that folly of his father's, and was silent.

'Oh, Bob, what a pretty islet!' exclaimed Linda, as they pa.s.sed a rock crested with a few trees, and almost carpeted by the brilliant red foliage of the pyrola, or winter green. 'The bushes make quite a crimson wreath round the yellow poplars.'

'I think,' said Robert, with deliberation, 'it would be almost worth the voyage across the Atlantic Ocean to see this single day of "the pink mist."'

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

BELOW ZERO.

Indian summer was succeeded by the 'temps boucaneux,' when h.o.a.rfrost drooped noiselessly on the night its silver powder on all the dazzling colouring, presenting nature robed in a delicate white guise each morning, which the sun appropriated to himself as soon as he could get above the vapours. Now were the vast waters of Canada pa.s.sing from a fluid to a solid form, giving out caloric in quant.i.ties, accompanied by these thin mists. Towards the close of November navigation ceases on the Ottawa; the beginning of December sees the mighty river frozen over. Yet it lies in the lat.i.tude of Bordeaux! All honour to the benevolent Gulf Stream which warms France and England comfortably.

When Linda's fingers were particularly cold, she would puzzle Robert and her father with questions as to why this should be so. Mr. Holt once told her that the prevailing wind came from the north-west across a vast expanse of frozen continent and frozen ocean. Also that James's Bay, the southern tongue of Hudson's, was apt to get choked with ma.s.ses of ice drifted in from the arctic seas, and which, being without a way of escape, just jammed together and radiated cold in company on the surrounding lands.

This explanation was given and received within earshot of a splendid fire on one of those tremendous January mornings when the temperature is perhaps twenty-five degrees below zero, when the very smoke cannot disperse in the frozen atmosphere, and the breath of man and beast returns upon them in snowy particles. n.o.body cares to be out of doors, for the air cuts like a knife, and one's garments stiffen like sheet-iron. Linda stands at the window of the little parlour--well she understands now why the hearth was made almost as wide as one side of the room--and looks out on the white world, and on the coppery sun struggling to enlighten the icy heavens, and on that strange phenomenon, the _ver glas_, gleaming from every tree.

'Now, Mr. Holt, as you have been good enough to attempt an explanation of the cold, perhaps you could tell me the cause of the _ver glas_? What makes that thin incrustation of ice over the trunk and every twig which has been attracting my admiration these three days? It was as if each tree was dressed in a tight-fitting suit of crystal when the sun succeeded in shining a little yesterday.'

'I imagine that the cause was the slight thaw on Monday, and the freezing of the moisture that then covered the bark and branches into a coat of ice. So I only _attempt_ explanations, Miss Linda.'

'Oh, but it is not your fault if they are unsatisfactory, as I own that of the north-west winds and James's Bay was to me; it is the fault of science. I'm afraid you'll not answer another question which I have, since I am so ungrateful as not to accept everything you say with becoming reverence.'

'Name your question.'

'Why is every fourth day milder than the others? Why may we reckon with almost certainty on a degree of soft weather to-morrow?'

'Those are the tertian intervals, and n.o.body understands them.'

'Concise and candid, if it doesn't make me wiser; but I'm compensated for that in finding something of which you are equally ignorant with myself, Mr. Holt.'

Remarks of a more superficial character were extorted by the severity of the weather from the inmates of the kitchen.

'Arrah, Miss Libby asth.o.r.e, wor ye able to sleep one wink last night wid the crakling of the threes? I niver heerd'--

'Sartin sure I was,' replied the rubicund damsel, as she moved briskly about her work. She had a peculiarity of wearing very short skirts, lest they should impede her progress; but once that Andy ventured a complimentary joke on her ankles, he met with such scathing scorn that he kept aloof from the subject in future, though often sorely tempted.

'Nothen ever kep me waking,' a.s.severated the Yankee girl with perfect truth. 'Now, young man, jest git out o' my way; warm yar hands in yar hair, if you've a mind teu--it's red enough, I guess.'

'Throth an' I wish I could take your advice, Miss; or if you'd give me a few sparks of yer own hot timper, I needn't ever come up to the hearth at all at all.'

'Thar, go 'long with you for a consaited sot-up chap, an' bring in a couple of armfuls of wood,' said the lady. 'I reckon you'd best take care of your hair settin' fire to the logs, Mister Handy,' she added with a chuckle.

Linda entered the kitchen on some household business, and Mr. Callaghan was too respectful to retort in her presence. But this is a specimen of the odd sort of sparring which Arthur chose to consider courtship, and to rally both parties about.

''Deed then I hope 'tisn't the likes of a crooked stick of her kind I'd be afther bringin' home at long last,' Andy would say, wielding his axe with redoubled vigour.

'I guess I ain't agoin' jest to be sich a soft un as to take the care of _him_ for nothen',' the lady would say, flouncing about her kitchen and laying ineffable emphasis on the last word. Whence it would appear that the feud was irreconcilable.

Next day was bright, and the mercury had climbed nearer to zero; so the sleigh was had out--Mr. Holt's sleigh, which had brought him from Mapleton to Cedar Creek, and was very much at everybody's service while he remained. Linda dressed in her warmest attire, and prepared for a run to the 'Corner' with her father. The sleigh was but a 'cutter' for carrying two, and had handsome robes of its equipment, a pair for each seat; one of wolf-skins garnished with a row of tails at the bottom and lined with scarlet; another a bear-skin, in which the beast's grim countenance had been preserved, and his claws affixed as a fringe. When Linda was comfortably wrapped up, Mr. Holt produced a third robe to throw over all.

'What a curious texture! a platted material and yet fur!' she said, looking at it.

''Tis of Indian manufacture, and I believe is made of rabbit skins cut in strips, twisted and netted together so as to keep the hair outside on both surfaces. You have a lovely day for your trip; I hope you will enjoy it.'

Did she not? A large set-off against the severity of a Canadian winter should be the ecstatic pleasures of sleighing. Those who have not tasted it know not the highest bliss of movement. Gliding smoothly and rapidly over the solid snow to the tinkling music of bells, the motion alone has something in it most exhilarating, to say nothing of the accompaniments of the ride, the clear bracing air, the beauty of the frost-bound forests all around. Linda was determined that her friend Edith should have her share of the enjoyment this brilliant day: so, stopping the 'steel-shod sleigh' at Daisy Burn, she persuaded Miss Armytage to don her cloak and m.u.f.fetees and warm hood, and take her place beside Mr.

Wynn for the rest of the way to the 'Corner' and back.

Edith had been in the midst of ironing her father's and brother's linen, while Jay read aloud. As soon as she was gone, despite the protestations of the little girl, Linda took the smoothing iron herself, and continued the work merrily. While thus engaged, and Jay getting through her history lesson still, a scratching was heard at the outside door of the kitchen.

'That's Ponto; what can have brought him home? he went with Reginald to chop at the edge of the clearing.'

The dog was no sooner admitted than he jumped on them both, pulled their gowns, ran back whining, and repeated these movements many times.

'He wants us to go with him, Jay--don't you think so?'

CHAPTER x.x.xVII.

A CUT, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

What could be the matter? Ponto, at all events, seemed to think it of much importance, for he never ceased to pull their skirts and whine an entreaty, and go through the pantomime of running off in a great hurry--never farther than the threshold--until he saw the girls put on their cloaks and hoods. Gravely he sat on his tail, looking at them with patient eyes, and, when the door was opened, sprang off madly towards the pond.

'Could Reginald have sent him for anything? Something might have happened to Reginald. Ponto never came home in that way before. Could a tree have fallen on Reginald?' and Jay's small hand shivered in Linda's at the thought. They hurried after the dog, over the spotless surface of snow, into the charred forest, where now every trunk and bough of ebony seemed set in silver. Thither Reginald had gone to chop at noon, in a little fit of industry. They were guided to the spot by the sad whinings of faithful Ponto, who could not comprehend why his master was lying on the ground, half against a tree, and what meant that large crimson stain deepening in the pure snow.

A desperate axe-cut in his foot--this was the matter. Linda almost turned sick at the sight; but Jay, compressing her white lips very firmly, to shut in a scream, kneeled down by her brother.

He had succeeded, with infinite effort, in drawing off his long leather boot, through which the axe had penetrated, and had been trying to bind his neckcloth tightly above the ankle. Jay helped him with all her little strength.

'Give me a stick,' said he hoa.r.s.ely--'a strong stick;' Linda flew to find one. 'Something to make a tourniquet;' and, not readily seeing any wood to answer the want, she used his axe, stained as it was, to chop a branch from the single tree he had felled. She had never tried her strength of arm in this way before; but now the axe felt quite light, from her excitement. Before the stick could be ready, in her unpractised fingers, Jay cried out, 'Oh, Linda, he is dying! he has fainted!'

Still, she had common sense to know that the first necessity was to stop the bleeding; so, quieting the little sister by a word or two, she inserted the stick in the bandage above the ankle, and turned it more than once, so as to tighten the ligament materially. Looking at the pallid features, another thought struck her.

'Let us heap up snow round the wounded foot and leg; I'm sure the cold must be good for it;' and, with the axe for their only shovel, the two girls gathered a pile of frozen snow, as a cushion and covering to the limb--'Oh, if Edith were here! if Edith were here!' being Jay's suppressed cry.

'Where is the labourer whom I saw working on the farm?'