In the Van or The Builders Part 13

"Will that do?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "It keeps the wind out. These hot bricks for the feet are delightful. What a glorious day for a ride! But look at that big snow bank right in front of us! Bateese! don't upset us, please!"

"Bateese nevare upset. Et is only de dreef," returned the Frenchman, and with a crack of his whip he circled around the sloping end of the bank as the other drivers had done before him.

It was not so nearly an upset as Helen imagined, but she breathed more freely when the huge pile of snow was behind them.

"Do we meet many drifts like that?" she asked a little timidly, for it was her first experience.

"Oh! dat is noting," replied Bateese, tossing his head; "but dere is a great big wan, high as yer head, right on de slope by de beeg hill, jess befor' you cam to de lumber camp--Gar--he be a fine wan."

And the habitant cackled and cracked his whip again.

"Still we can pa.s.s it all right?" said Harold.

"Nevare can tell," returned Bateese, shrugging his shoulders. "It ees on de end of a heel, where two winds meet--an 'eet may be flat as de diable in de mornin'--an' so big at night dat you couldn't see ovare de top if you was ten feet high."

"How then do you manage?" inquired Helen, who, seeing a twinkle in the eye of Bateese, was regaining courage.

"Oh, some tam you go roun, some tam over top after deegin' de snow awa--and some tam," he continued very impressively, "you make a tunnel--camp all night in de meedle--and deeg out a t'oder side next day."

"And what do you do with your horses while camping?" Harold asked with a smile.

"Oh! dat's easy," replied Bateese with perfect gravity. "We jess deeg places for dem beside de camp--don't have go out in de cole to feed 'em.

Dey eat snow for vater, and de leetle fire keep us all warm."

"That's a pretty good one, Bateese."

"Oh, no, jess a leetle wan; tell you some more bime-by."

And the Frenchman's infectious laughter was joined in by both Helen and Harold as they scudded to the jingle of the sleigh-bells merrily along the road.

In a couple of hours the riders had left the heavy sledges and the soldiers far behind. They had pa.s.sed the clearings. Open fields became less frequent, and the stretches of forest more continuous. Sir George had inquired minutely into the nature and difficulties of the road; and although he believed that the march for days would be outside of the war arena, he had sent forward a strong scouting party to reconnoitre.

The direction they were taking for the first part of the journey was almost due north, following the sleigh track, which finally joined the Truro-road along the banks of the Shebenacadie.

The troops and heavy sledges would come up later, but the order was to make the first halt at a lumber camp on their line of march, at which arrangements were already being made by the scouting party for their reception. By noon the Colonel's sleigh headed the file at the top of a long hill. Dr. Beaumont was with him.

"There it is!" he cried. "Yonder are the scouts.

"You know the place then?" said Sir George.

"Yes, I've often been here. Mr. Mackenzie has one of the finest lumber camps in Nova Scotia. See, he is out now talking to Sergeant Banks."

"A thrifty Scotchman, eh! I hope Banks has managed it. I would like the whole troop to dine at the camp without touching our rations. You can settle with Mr. Mackenzie afterwards," he concluded, turning to Captain Payne.

"It will be a great relief," returned the latter, "and give us a longer march this afternoon. Nothing like making a good start on the first day."

The sergeant saluted as they drove up.

"Mr. Mackenzie, this is our Colonel," he said, touching his cap.

And a tall, ma.s.sively built Scotchman, with s.h.a.ggy hair and rugged features, grasped Sir George's hand warmly.

"Your men have been telling me about you, sir," he exclaimed. "I am glad to see you. You must a' be hungry after your cold ride. The cook's doin'

his best to gie ye all a bite. Come right in. Your men can feed the horses at the stable. Guid sakes, you've got a leddy with ye! and some women folk, too!" and he finished by doffing his hat gallantly to Helen.

"Yes, we are hungry and glad to call a halt, Mr. Mackenzie, and I know Mrs. Manning will be tired enough to rest."

Here Harold introduced his wife and the group went inside. The huge shanty was built entirely of logs, the inside walls hewed flat, the c.h.i.n.ks filled with wood and then covered level with plaster. One side of the long wall was not more than six feet in alt.i.tude, but the opposite one was twice as high to allow for the sloping slab roof. Scattered along the two sides were a series of little windows, while in the far end a pile of dry logs was burning brightly in a huge fireplace. Dining tables of pine boards, supported on cross sticks, stretched the length of the room, and were already laden with platters and cups in preparation for the meal. The cross head table was built in a similar manner, but instead of benches on either side, there was an array of chairs, and perhaps in honor of the occasion, clean white sheets were spread upon it for the coming meal.

The rough, homely comfort about the place seemed attractive after the cold drive, and elicited warm compliments from the Colonel.

"Oh, it will do for the woods," returned Mackenzie, good-humoredly. "We keep our men warm and comfortable and feed 'em well. The consequence is that they like the job, and every man of 'em is glad to come back to the camp when the next season opens."

"But does not the war interfere with your work and make your men enlist?" the Colonel asked.

"Yes, sometimes; but it is a good thing to have a reputation. If peace was declared to-morrow, I could get twice the men I need. As it is, half the young men in the colony have listed. And yet I have all I want. But dinner is almost ready, so Sir George, you and your men might put your things in my office here; and, Mrs. Manning," he exclaimed with another bow, "I haven't got a leddy's boudoir, but if you are not afraid of an old bachelor's quarters, you might fix and rest yourself in my own den."

"I shall be only too glad," returned Helen. "This big shanty is so comfortable, I am sure I would be too warm, if I kept my furs on."

"Well, just make yourself at home. You are welcome to any little thing I can do for ye. But, ma sakes, what became o' the other weemen?"

"Oh, they went off to the men's kitchen with their husbands," returned Sir George. "You know Corporal Bond and Private Hardman were of the reconnoitring party."

And closing the heavy door of Mackenzie's den, Helen laid her wraps upon his bed. A little mirror was hanging by the window and without delay she arranged her hair. Then she washed in the pewter bowl and sat down in the arm chair, the only seat in the room. Soliloquizing, she began to realize what was before her. Through the little window she saw that the shanty was close to the woods, an impenetrable forest on every side.

Only half a day out from Halifax, and notwithstanding the presence of her husband, in a certain sense alone. And if alone, when blessed with the rude comforts of the log camp and the generous cordiality of the owner, what must it be when out in the forest night after night, through all the long months of the winter? There could be no shadow of turning now--no possibility of retreat. Still she did not lament. It was only that life seemed more tense--more binding--infinitely more positive and real!

A little later, Harold came for her, and they joined Mr. Mackenzie, Sir George and the officers at the head table, in the big hall of the shanty. Their host placed Helen and Sir George as his guests of honor.

Then the big gong sounded and the shanty-men in smock frock and blue jean overalls filed in and took their places.

"That's a motley crowd, Sir George," said Mr. Mackenzie. They could easily be observed by the Colonel, for his seat commanded a view of the whole room.

"Yes, you have many nationalities here: German, English, Scotch, Irish, French," said Sir George.

"But Johnny Canucks are on top every time," was the answer. "They stand the work well, and make fine lumbermen. They have their peculiarities, though. See how they spread their mola.s.ses on their pork instead of their bread."

"Like the Dutchman sleeping on straw with his feather bed on top of him."

"Or the Irishman with his potatoes and point."

"Yes, but the French and the Dutch make the most of it, while Pat contents himself with a joke."

"And on it he fattens," returned Mackenzie with a laugh. "But I tell you my men are well fed, the grub's rough but wholesome, and we often eat a calf or a deer at a meal besides a pile of other stuff. Our table doesn't differ much from theirs either," he continued, "but to-day in honor of our guests, particularly Mrs. Manning and yoursel', Sir George, I told the cook to make it extra fine. By George, he's sending us griddled tenderloin, roast turkey and stuffed partridges as well."

Then they had baked potatoes, cranberry sauce, salaratus cakes and tea.

"We've only got brown sugar, Mrs. Manning, I'm sorry to say," he continued, turning to Helen. "And unfortunately our coos are all dry."