第1章

INTRODUCTION IthinkIhavemet\"RalphConner.\"Indeed，IamsureIhave——onceinacanoeontheRedRiver，onceontheAssinaboine，andtwiceorthriceontheprairiestotheWest.Thatwasnotthenamehegaveme，but，ifIamright，itcoversoneofthemosthonestandgenialofthestrongcharactersthatarefightingthedevilanddoinggoodworkformenallovertheworld.Hehasseenwithhisowneyesthelifewhichhedescribesinthisbook，andhashimself，forsomeyearsofhardandlonelytoil，assistedinthegoodinfluenceswhichhetracesamongitswildandoftenhopelessconditions.Hewriteswiththefreshnessandaccuracyofaneye—witness，withthestyle（asIthinkhisreaderswillallow）ofarealartist，andwiththetendernessandhopefulnessofamannotonlyoffaithbutofexperience，whohasseeninfulfillmenttheidealsforwhichhelives. Thelifetowhichhetakesus，thoughfaroffandverystrangetoourtameminds，isthelifeofourbrothers.IntotheNorthwestofCanadatheyoungmenofGreatBritainandIrelandhavebeenpouring（Iwastold），sometimesattherateof48，000ayear.Ourbrotherswholefthomeyesterday——ourheartscannotbutfollowthem.WiththesepagesRalphConnerenablesoureyesandourmindstofollow，too;nordoIthinkthereisanyonewhoshallreadthisbookandnotfindalsothathisconscienceisquickened.Thereisawarfareappointeduntomanuponearth，anditsstrugglesarenowheremoreintense，northevictoriesofthestrong，northesuccorsbroughttothefallen，moreheroic，thanonthefieldsdescribedinthisvolume. GEORGEADAMSMITH. BLACKROCK Thestoryofthebookistrue，andchiefofthefailuresinthemakingofthebookisthis，thatitisnotallthetruth.Thelightisnotbrightenough，theshadowisnotblackenoughtogiveatruepictureofthatbitofWesternlifeofwhichthewriterwassomesmallpart.Themenofthebookarestillthereintheminesandlumbercampsofthemountains，fightingoutthateternalfightformanhood，strong，clean，God—conquered.And，whenthewestwindsblow，totheopenearthesoundsofbattlecome，tellingthefortunesofthefight. Becauseaman’slifeisallhehas，andbecausetheonlyhopeofthebraveyoungWestliesinitsmen，thisstoryistold.Itmaybethatthetragicpityofabrokenlifemaymovesometopray，andthatthatdivinepowerthereisinasinglebravehearttosummonforthhopeandcouragemaymovesometofight.Ifso，thetaleisnottoldinvain. C.W.G. CONTENTS CHAPTERI CHRISTMASEVEINALUMBERCAMP CHAPTERII THEBLACKROCKCHRISTMAS CHAPTERIII WATERLOO.OURFIGHT——HISVICTORY CHAPTERIV MRS.MAVOR’SSTORY CHAPTERV THEMAKINGOFTHELEAGUE CHAPTERVI BLACKROCKRELIGION CHAPTERVII THEFIRSTBLACKROCKCOMMUNION CHAPTERVIII THEBREAKINGOFTHELEAGUE CHAPTERIX THELEAGUE’SREVENGE CHAPTERX WHATCAMETOSLAVIN CHAPTERXI THETWOCALLS CHAPTERXII LOVEISNOTALL CHAPTERXIII HOWNELSONCAMEHOME CHAPTERXIV GRAEME’SNEWBIRTH CHAPTERXV COMINGTOTHEIROWN CHAPTERI CHRISTMASEVEINALUMBERCAMP ItwasduetoamysteriousdispensationofProvidence，andagooddealtoLeslieGraeme，thatIfoundmyselfintheheartoftheSelkirksformyChristmasEveastheyear1882wasdying.IthadbeenmyplantospendmyChristmasfarawayinToronto，withsuchBohemianandbooncompanionsascouldbefoundinthatcosmopolitanandkindlycity.ButLeslieGraemechangedallthat，for，discoveringmeinthevillageofBlackRock，withmytrapsallpacked，waitingforthestagetostartfortheLanding，thirtymilesaway，heboredownuponmewithresistlessforce，andIfoundmyselfrecoveringfrommysurpriseonlyafterwehadgoneinhislumbersleighsomesixmilesonourwaytohiscampupinthemountains.Iwassurprisedandmuchdelighted，thoughIwouldnotallowhimtothinkso，tofindthathisold—timepowerovermewasstillthere.Hecouldalwaysintheold’Varsitydays——dear，wilddays——makemedowhatheliked.Hewassohandsomeandsoreckless，brilliantinhisclass—work，andtheprinceofhalf—backsontheRugbyfield，andwithsuchpoweroffascination，aswould’extracttheheartoutofawheelbarrow，’asBarneyLundyusedtosay.AndthusitwasthatIfoundmyselfjustthreeweekslater——I wastohavespenttwoorthreedays，——ontheafternoonofthe24thofDecember，standinginGraeme’sLumberCampNo.2，wonderingatmyself.ButIdidnotregretmychangedplans，forinthosethreeweeksIhadraidedacinnamonbear’sdenandhadwakenedupagrizzly——ButIshallletthegrizzlyfinishthetale;heprobablyseesmorehumourinitthanI. Thecampstoodinalittleclearing，andconsistedofagroupofthreelong，lowshantieswithsmallershacksnearthem，allbuiltofheavy，unhewnlogs，withdoorandwindowineach.Thegrubcamp，withcook—shedattached，stoodinthemiddleoftheclearing; atalittledistancewasthesleeping—campwiththeofficebuiltagainstit，andaboutahundredyardsawayontheothersideoftheclearingstoodthestables，andnearthemthesmiddy.Themountainsrosegrandlyoneveryside，throwinguptheirgreatpeaksintothesky.Theclearinginwhichthecampstoodwashewnoutofadensepineforestthatfilledthevalleyandclimbedhalfwayupthemountain—sides，andthenfrayedoutinscatteredandstuntedtrees. ItwasoneofthosewonderfulCanadianwinterdays，bright，andwithatouchofsharpnessintheairthatdidnotchill，butwarmedthebloodlikedraughtsofwine.Themenwereupinthewoods，andtheshrillscreamofthebluejayflashingacrosstheopen，theimpudentchatteroftheredsquirrelfromthetopofthegrubcamp，andthepertchirpofthewhisky—jack，hoppingaboutontherubbish—heap，withthelong，lonecryofthewolffardownthevalley，onlymadethesilencefeltthemore. AsIstooddrinkinginwithallmysoulthegloriousbeautyandthesilenceofmountainandforest，withtheChristmasfeelingstealingintome，Graemecameoutfromhisoffice，and，catchingsightofme，calledout，’GloriousChristmasweather，oldchap！’Andthen，comingnearer，’Mustyougoto—morrow？’ ’Ifearso，’Ireplied，knowingwellthattheChristmasfeelingwasonhimtoo. ’IwishIweregoingwithyou，’hesaidquietly. Iturnedeagerlytopersuadehim，butatthelookofsufferinginhisfacethewordsdiedatmylips，forwebothwerethinkingoftheawfulnightofhorrorwhenallhisbright，brilliantlifecrasheddownabouthiminblackruinandshame.Icouldonlythrowmyarmoverhisshoulderandstandsilentbesidehim.Asuddenjingleofbellsrousedhim，and，givinghimselfalittleshake，heexclaimed，’Therearetheboyscominghome.’ Soonthecampwasfilledwithmentalking，laughing，chaffing，likelight—heartedboys. ’Theyarealittlewildto—night，’saidGraeme;’andtomorrowthey’llpaintBlackRockred.’ Beforemanyminuteshadgone，thelastteamsterwas’washedup，’ andallwerestandingaboutwaitingimpatientlyforthecook’ssignal——thesupperto—nightwastobe’somethingofafeed’——whenthesoundofbellsdrewtheirattentiontoalightsleighdrawnbyabuckskinbronchocomingdownthehillsideatagreatpace. ’Thepreacher，I’llbet，byhisdriving，’saidoneofthemen. ’Bedad，andit’shimhasthefoinenoseforturkey！’saidBlaney，agood—natured，jovialIrishman. ’Yes，orforpay—day，morelike，’saidKeefe，ablack—browed，villainousfellow—countrymanofBlaney’s，and，strangetosay，hisgreatfriend. BigSandyM’Naughton，aCanadianHighlanderfromGlengarry，roseupinwrath.’BillKeefe，’saidhe，withdeliberateemphasis，’you’lljustkeepyourdirtytongueofftheminister;andasforyourpay，it’slittleheseesofit，oranyoneelse，exceptMikeSlavin，whenyou’retoodrytowaitforsomeonetotreatyou，orperhapsFatherRyan，whenthefearofhell—fireisontoyou.’ ThemenstoodamazedatSandy’ssuddenangerandlengthofspeech. ’Bon;dat’sgoodforyou，mybullyboy，’saidBaptiste，awirylittleFrench—Canadian，Sandy’sswornallyanddevotedadmirereversincethedaywhenthebigScotsman，undergreatprovocation，hadknockedhimcleanoffthedumpintotheriverandthenjumpedinforhim. ItwasnottillafterwardsIlearnedthecauseofSandy’ssuddenwrathwhichurgedhimtosuchunwontedlengthofspeech.ItwasnotsimplythatthePresbyterianbloodcarriedwithitreverencefortheministerandcontemptforPapistsandFenians，butthathehadavividremembranceofhow，onlyamonthago，theministerhadgothimoutofMikeSlavin’ssaloonandouttheclutchesofKeefeandSlavinandtheirgangofbloodsuckers. Keefestartedupwithacurse.BaptistesprangtoSandy’sside，slappedhimontheback，andcalledout，’Youkeelhim，I’llhit（eat）himup，me.’ Itlookedasiftheremightbeafight，whenaharshvoicesaidinalow，savagetone，’Stopyourrow，youblankfools;settleit，ifyouwantto，somewhereelse.’Iturned，andwasamazedtoseeoldmanNelson，whowasveryseldommovedtospeech. Therewasalookofscornonhishard，iron—greyface，andofsuchsettledfiercenessasmademequitebelievethetalesIhadheardofhisdeadlyfightsintheminesatthecoast.Beforeanyreplycouldbemade，theministerdroveupandcalledoutinacheeryvoice，’MerryChristmas，boys！Hello，Sandy！Commentcava，Baptiste？Howdoyoudo，Mr.Graeme？’ ’Firstrate.Letmeintroducemyfriend，Mr.Connor，sometimemedicalstudent，nowartist，hunter，andtrampatlarge，butnotabadsort.’ ’Amantobeenvied，’saidtheminister，smiling.’IamgladtoknowanyfriendofMr.Graeme’s.’ IlikedMr.Craigfromthefirst.Hehadgoodeyesthatlookedstraightoutatyou，aclean—cut，strongfacewellsetonhisshoulders，andaltogetheranupstanding，manlybearing.HeinsistedongoingwithSandytothestablestoseeDandy，hisbroncho，putup. ’Decentfellow，’saidGraeme;’butthoughheisgoodenoughtohisbroncho，itisSandythat’sinhismindnow.’ ’Doeshecomeoutoften？Imean，areyoupartofhisparish，sotospeak？’ ’Ihavenodoubthethinksso;andI’mblowedifhedoesn’tmakethePresbyteriansofusthinksotoo.’Andheaddedafterapause，’Adandylotofparishionersweareforanyman.There’sSandy，now，hewouldknockKeefe’sheadoffasakindofreligiousexercise;butto—morrowKeefewillbesober，andSandywillbedrunkasalord，andthedrunkerheisthebetterPresbyterianhe’llbe;tothepreacher’sdisgust.’Thenafteranotherpauseheaddedbitterly，’ButitisnotformetothrowrocksatSandy;Iamnotthesamekindoffool，butIamafoolofseveralothersorts.’ Thenthecookcameoutandbeatatattooonthebottomofadish— pan.Baptisteansweredwithayell：butthoughkeenlyhungry，nomanwoulddemeanhimselftodootherthanwalkwithapparentreluctancetohisplaceatthetable.Atthefurtherendofthecampwasabigfireplace，andfromthedoortothefireplaceextendedthelongboardtables，coveredwithplattersofturkeynottooscientificallycarved，dishesofpotatoes，bowlsofapplesauce，platesofbutter，pies，andsmallerdishesdistributedatregularintervals.Twolanternshangingfromtheroof，andarowofcandlesstuckintothewalloneithersidebymeansofslitsticks，castadim，weirdlightoverthescene. Therewasamoment’ssilence，andatanodfromGraemeMr.Craigroseandsaid，’Idon’tknowhowyoufeelaboutit，men，buttomethislooksgoodenoughtobethankfulfor.’ ’Fireahead，sir，’calledoutavoicequiterespectfully，andtheministerbenthisheadandsaid—— ’ForChristtheLordwhocametosaveus，foralltheloveandgoodnesswehaveknown，andfortheseThygiftstousthisChristmasnight，ourFather，makeusthankful.Amen.’ ’Bon，dat’sfussrate，’saidBaptiste.’Seemslakdat’smakemehit（eat）morebetterforsure，’andthennowordwasspokenforquarterofanhour.Theoccasionwasfartoosolemnandmomentstoopreciousforanythingsoemptyaswords.Butwhenthewhitepilesofbreadandthebrownpilesofturkeyhadforasecondtimevanished，andafterthelastpiehaddisappeared，therecameapauseandhushofexpectancy，whereuponthecookandcookee，eachbearingaloftahuge，blazingpudding，cameforth. ’Hooray！’yelledBlaney，’upwidyez！’andgrabbingthecookbytheshouldersfrombehind，hefacedhimabout. Mr.Craigwasthefirsttorespond，andseizingthecookeeinthesameway，calledout，’Squad，fallin！quickmarch！’Inamomenteverymanwasintheprocession. ’Strikeup，Batchees，yelittleangel！’shoutedBlaney，theappellationaconcessiontotheminister’spresence;andawaywentBaptisteinarollickingFrenchsongwiththeEnglishchorus—— ’Thenblow，yewinds，inthemorning，Blow，yewinds，ayoh！ Blow，yewinds，inthemorning，Blow，blow，blow.’ Andateach’blow’everybootcamedownwithathumpontheplankfloorthatshookthesolidroof.Afterthesecondround，Mr. Craigjumpeduponthebench，andcalledout—— ’ThreecheersforBillythecook！’ InthesilencefollowingthecheersBaptistewasheardtosay，’Bon！dat’smakmefeellakhitdatpuddin’allhupmesef，me.’ ’Heartillthelittlebaste！’saidBlaneyindisgust. ’Batchees，’remonstratedSandygravely，’ye’vemorestomachthanmanners.’ ’Fusure！butdemorestomachdat’smorebetterfordispuddin’，’ repliedthelittleFrenchmancheerfully. Afteratimethetableswereclearedandpushedbacktothewall，andpipeswereproduced.Inallattitudessuggestiveofcomfortthemendisposedthemselvesinawidecircleaboutthefire，whichnowroaredandcrackledupthegreatwoodenchimneyhangingfromtheroof.Thelumberman’shourofblisshadarrived.EvenoldmanNelsonlookedashadelessmelancholythanusualashesatalone，wellawayfromthefire，smokingsteadilyandsilently.Whenthesecondpipeswerewella—going，oneofthementookdownaviolinfromthewallandhandedittoLachlanCampbell.ThereweretwobrothersCampbelljustoutfromArgyll，typicalHighlanders： Lachlan，dark，silent，melancholy，withthefaceofamystic，andAngus，red—haired，quick，impulsive，anddevotedtohisbrother，adevotionhethoughtpropertocoverunderbiting，sarcasticspeech. Lachlan，aftermuchprotestation，interspersedwithgibesfromhisbrother，tooktheviolin，and，inresponsetothecallfromallsides，struckup’LordMacdonald’sReel.’Inamomentthefloorwasfilledwithdancers，whoopingandcrackingtheirfingersinthewildestmanner.ThenBaptistedidthe’RedRiverJig，’amostintricateanddifficultseriesofsteps，themenkeepingtimetothemusicwithhandsandfeet. Whenthejigwasfinished，Sandycalledfor’LochaberNoMore’;butCampbellsaid，’No，no！Icannotplaythatto—night.Mr.Craigwillplay.’ Craigtooktheviolin，andatthefirstnoteIknewhewasnoordinaryplayer.Ididnotrecognisethemusic，butitwassoftandthrilling，andgotinbytheheart，tilleveryonewasthinkinghistenderestandsaddestthoughts. Afterhehadplayedtwoorthreeexquisitebits，hegaveCampbellhisviolin，saying，’Now，\"Lochaber，\"Lachlan.’ WithoutawordLachlanbegan，not’Lochaber’——hewasnotreadyforthatyet——but’TheFlowerso’theForest，’andfromthatwanderedthrough’AuldRobinGray’and’TheLando’theLeal，’andsogotatlasttothatmostsoul—subduingofScottishlaments，’LochaberNoMore.’Atthefirststrain，hisbrother，whohadthrownhimselfonsomeblanketsbehindthefire，turnedoveronhisface，feigningsleep.SandyM’Naughtontookhispipeoutofhismouth，andsatupstraightandstiff，staringintovacancy，andGraeme，beyondthefire，drewashort，sharpbreath.Wehadoftensat，GraemeandI，inourstudent—days，inthedrawing—roomathome，listeningtohisfatherwailingout’Lochaber’uponthepipes，andIwellknewthattheawfulminorstrainswerenoweatingtheirwayintohissoul. OverandoveragaintheHighlanderplayedhislament.Hehadlongsinceforgottenus，andwasseeingvisionsofthehillsandlochsandglensofhisfar—awaynativeland，andmakingus，too，seestrangethingsoutofthedimpast.IglancedatoldmanNelson，andwasstartledattheeager，almostpiteous，lookinhiseyes，andIwishedCampbellwouldstop.Mr.Craigcaughtmyeye，and，steppingovertoCampbell，heldouthishandfortheviolin. LingeringlyandlovinglytheHighlanderdrewoutthelaststrain，andsilentlygavetheministerhisinstrument. Withoutamoment’spause，andwhilethespellof’Lochaber’wasstilluponus，theminister，withexquisiteskill，fellintotherefrainofthatsimpleandbeautifulcamp—meetinghymn，’TheSweetByandBy.’Afterplayingtheversethroughonce，hesangsoftlytherefrain.Afterthefirstverse，themenjoinedinthechorus; atfirsttimidly，butbythetimethethirdversewasreachedtheywereshoutingwiththroatsfullopen，’Weshallmeetonthatbeautifulshore.’WhenIlookedatNelsontheeagerlighthadgoneoutofhiseyes，andinitsplacewaskindofdeterminedhopelessness，asifinthisnewmusichehadnopart. Afterthevoiceshadceased，Mr.Craigplayedagaintherefrain，moreandmoresoftlyandslowly;thenlayingtheviolinonCampbell’sknees，hedrewfromhispockethislittleBible，andsaid—— ’Men，withMr.Graeme’spermission，IwanttoreadyousomethingthisChristmasEve.Youwillallhavehearditbefore，butyouwilllikeitnonethelessforthat.’ Hisvoicewassoft，butclearandpenetrating，ashereadtheeternalstoryoftheangelsandtheshepherdsandtheBabe.Andasheread，aslightmotionofthehandoraglanceofaneyemadeussee，ashewasseeing，thatwholeradiantdrama.Thewonder，thetimidjoy，thetenderness，themysteryofitall，wereborneinuponuswithoverpoweringeffect.Heclosedthebook，andinthesamelow，clearvoicewentontotellushow，inhishomeyearsago，heusedtostandonChristmasEvelisteninginthrillingdelighttohismothertellinghimthestory，andhowsheusedtomakehimseetheshepherdsandhearthesheepbleatingnearby，andhowthesuddenburstofgloryusedtomakehisheartjump. ’Iusedtobealittleafraidoftheangels，becauseaboytoldmetheywereghosts;butmymothertoldmebetter，andIdidn’tfearthemanymore.AndtheBaby，thedearlittleBaby——weallloveababy.’Therewasaquick，drysob;itwasfromNelson.’Iusedtopeekthroughundertoseethelittleoneinthestraw，andwonderwhatthingsswaddlingclotheswere.Oh，itwasallsorealandsobeautiful！’Hepaused，andIcouldhearthemenbreathing. ’ButoneChristmasEve，’hewenton，inalower，sweetertone，’therewasnoonetotellmethestory，andIgrewtoforgetit，andwentawaytocollege，andlearnedtothinkthatitwasonlyachild’staleandwasnotformen.Thenbaddayscametomeandworse，andIbegantolosemygripofmyself，oflife，ofhope，ofgoodness，tilloneblackChristmas，intheslumsofafarawaycity，whenIhadgivenupall，andthedevil’sarmswereaboutme，I heardthestoryagain.AndasIlistened，withabitteracheinmyheart，forIhadputitallbehindme，Isuddenlyfoundmyselfpeekingundertheshepherds’armswithachild’swonderattheBabyinthestraw.Thenitcameovermelikegreatwaves，thatHisnamewasJesus，becauseitwasHethatshouldsavemenfromtheirsins. Save！Save！Thewaveskeptbeatinguponmyears，andbeforeI knew，Ihadcalledout，\"Oh！canHesaveme？\"Itwasinalittlemissionmeetingononeofthesidestreets，andtheyseemedtobeusedtothatsortofthingthere，fornoonewassurprised;andayoungfellowleanedacrosstheaisletomeandsaid，\"Why！youjustbetHecan！\"HissurprisethatIshoulddoubt，hisbrightfaceandconfidenttone，gavemehopethatperhapsitmightbeso.Iheldtothathopewithallmysoul，and’——stretchinguphisarms，andwithaquickglowinhisfaceandalittlebreakinhisvoice，’Hehasn’tfailedmeyet;notonce，notonce！’ Hestoppedquiteshort，andIfeltagooddeallikemakingafoolofmyself，forinthosedaysIhadnotmadeupmymindaboutthesethings.Graeme，pooroldchap，wasgazingathimwithasadyearninginhisdarkeyes;bigSandywassittingverystiff，andstaringharderthaneverintothefire;Baptistewastremblingwithexcitement;Blaneywasopenlywipingthetearsaway.ButthefacethatheldmyeyeswasthatofoldmanNelson.Itwaswhite，fierce，hungry—looking，hissunkeneyesburning，hislipspartedasiftocry. Theministerwenton.’Ididn’tmeantotellyouthis，men，itallcameovermewitharush;butitistrue，everyword，andnotawordwillItakeback.And，what’smore，Icantellyouthis，whatHedidformeHecandoforanyman，anditdoesn’tmakeanydifferencewhat’sbehindhim，and’——leaningslightlyforward，andwithalittlethrillofpathosvibratinginhisvoice——’Oboys，whydon’tyougiveHimachanceatyou？WithoutHimyou’llneverbethemenyouwanttobe，andyou’llnevergetthebetterofthatthat’skeepingsomeofyounowfromgoingbackhome.Youknowyou’llnevergobacktillyou’rethemenyouwanttobe.’Then，liftinguphisfaceandthrowingbackhishead，hesaid，asiftohimself，’Jesus！HeshallsaveHispeoplefromtheirsins，’andthen，’Letuspray.’ Graemeleanedforwardwithhisfaceinhishands;BaptisteandBlaneydroppedontheirknees;Sandy，theCampbells，andsomeothers，stoodup.OldmanNelsonheldhiseyessteadilyontheminister. OnlyoncebeforehadIseenthatlookonahumanface.Ayoungfellowhadbrokenthroughtheiceontheriverathome，andastheblackwaterwasdragginghisfingersonebyonefromtheslipperyedges，therecameoverhisfacethatsamelook.Iusedtowakeupformanyanightafterinasweatofhorror，seeingthewhitefacewithitspartinglips，anditspiteous，dumbappeal，andtheblackwaterslowlysuckingitdown. Nelson’sfacebroughtitallback;butduringtheprayerthefacechanged，andseemedtosettleintoresolveofsomesort，stern，almostgloomy，asofamanwithhislastchancebeforehim. AftertheprayerMr.CraiginvitedthementoaChristmasdinnernextdayinBlackRock.’Andbecauseyouareanindependentlot，we’llchargeyouhalfadollarfordinnerandtheeveningshow.’ Thenleavingabundleofmagazinesandillustratedpapersonthetable——agodsendtothemen——hesaidgood—byeandwentout. Iwastogowiththeminister，soIjumpedintothesleighfirst，andwaitedwhilehesaidgood—byetoGraeme，whohadbeenhardhitbythewholeservice，andseemedtowanttosaysomething.IheardMr.Craigsaycheerfullyandconfidently，’It’satruebill：tryHim.’ Sandy，whohadbeensteadyingDandywhilethatinterestingbronchowasattemptingwithgreatsuccesstobalancehimselfonhishindlegs，cametosaygood—bye.’Comeandseemefirstthing，Sandy.’ ’Ay！Iknow;I’llseeye，Mr.Craig，’saidSandyearnestly，asDandydashedoffatafullgallopacrosstheclearingandoverthebridge，steadyingdownwhenhereachedthehill. ’Steady，youidiot！’ ThiswastoDandy，whohadtakenasuddensidespringintothedeepsnow，almostupsettingus.Amansteppedoutfromtheshadow.ItwasoldmanNelson.Hecamestraighttothesleigh，and，ignoringmypresencecompletely，said—— ’Mr.Craig，areyoudeadsureofthis？Willitwork？’ ’Doyoumean，’saidCraig，takinghimuppromptly，’canJesusChristsaveyoufromyoursinsandmakeamanofyou？’ Theoldmannodded，keepinghishungryeyesontheother’sface. ’Well，here’sHismessagetoyou：\"TheSonofManiscometoseekandtosavethatwhichwaslost.\"’ ’Tome？Tome？’saidtheoldmaneagerly. ’Listen;this，too，isHisWord：\"HimthatcomethuntoMeIwillinnowisecastout.\"That’sforyou，forhereyouare，coming.’ ’Youdon’tknowme，Mr.Craig.Ileftmybabyfifteenyearsagobecause——’ ’Stop！’saidtheminister.’Don’ttellme，atleastnotto—night; perhapsnever.TellHimwhoknowsitallnow，andwhoneverbetraysasecret.HaveitoutwithHim.Don’tbeafraidtotrustHim.’ Nelsonlookedathim，withhisfacequivering，andsaidinahuskyvoice，’Ifthisisnogood，it’shellforme.’ ’Ifitisnogood，’repliedCraig，almoststernly，’it’shellforallofus.’ Theoldmanstraightenedhimselfup，lookedupatthestars，thenbackatMr.Craig，thenatme，and，drawingadeepbreath，said，’I’lltryHim.’Ashewasturningawaytheministertouchedhimonthearm，andsaidquietly，’KeepaneyeonSandyto—morrow.’ Nelsonnodded，andwewenton;butbeforewetookthenextturnI lookedbackandsawwhatbroughtalumpintomythroat.ItwasoldmanNelsononhiskneesinthesnow，withhishandsspreadupwardtothestars，andIwonderediftherewasanyOneabovethestars，andnearerthanthestars，whocouldsee.AndthenthetreeshidhimfrommysightCHAPTERII THEBLACKROCKCHRISTMAS ManystrangeChristmasDayshaveIseen，butthatwildBlackRockChristmasstandsoutstrangestofall.WhileIwasrevellinginmydelicioussecondmorningsleep，justawakeenoughtoenjoyit，Mr. Craigcameabruptly，announcingbreakfastandadding，’Hopeyouareingoodshape，forwehaveourworkbeforeusthisday.’ ’Hello！’Ireplied，stillhalfasleep，andanxioustohidefromtheministerthatIwastryingtogainafewmoremomentsofsnoozingdelight，’what’sabroad？’. ’Thedevil，’heansweredshortly，andwithsuchemphasisthatIsatboltupright，lookinganxiouslyabout. ’Oh！noneedforalarm.He’snotafteryouparticularly——atleastnotto—day，’saidCraig，withashadowofasmile.’Butheisgoingaboutingoodstyle，Icantellyou.’ BythistimeIwasquiteawake.’Well，whatparticularstyledoesHisMajestyaffectthismorning？’ Hepulledoutashowbill.’Peculiarlygaudyandeffective，isitnot？’ Theitemsannouncedweresufficientlyattractive.The’FriscoOperaCompanyweretoproducethe’screamingfarce，’’TheGayandGiddyDude’;afterwhichtherewastobea’GrandBall，’duringwhichthe’KaliforniaFemaleKickers’weretodosomefancyfigures;thewholetobefollowedbya’bigsupper’with’twofreedrinkstoeverymanandonetothelady，’andallfortheinsignificantsumoftwodollars. ’Can’tyougoonebetter？’Isaid. Helookedinquiringlyandalittledisgustedlyatme. ’Whatcanyoudoagainstfreedrinksandadance，nottospeakofthe\"HighKickers\"？’hegroaned. ’No！’hecontinued;’it’sacleanbeatforustoday.Theminersandlumbermenwillhaveintheirpocketstenthousanddollars，andeverydollarburningahole;andSlavinandhisgangwillgetmostofit.But，’headded，’youmusthavebreakfast.You’llfindatubinthekitchen;don’tbeafraidtosplash.ItisthebestI havetoofferyou.’ Thetubsoundedinviting，andbeforemanyminuteshadpassedIwasinadelightfulglow，theeffectofcoldwaterandaroughtowel，andthatconsciousnessofvirtuethatcomestoamanwhohashadcouragetofacehiscoldbathonawintermorning. Thebreakfastwaslaidwithfinetaste.Adiminutivepine—tree，inapothungroundwithwintergreen，stoodinthecentreofthetable. ’Well，now，thislooksgood;porridge，beefsteak，potatoes，toast，andmarmalade.’ ’Ihopeyouwillenjoyitall.’ Therewasnotmuchtalkoverourmeal.Mr.Craigwasevidentlypreoccupied，andasblueashispolitenesswouldallowhim. Slavin’svictoryweigheduponhisspirits.Finallyheburstout，’Lookhere！Ican’t，Iwon’tstandit;somethingmustbedone. LastChristmasthistownwasfortwoweeks，asoneoftheminerssaid，\"alittlesuburbofhell.\"Itwassomethingtooawful.Andattheendofitalloneyoungfellowwasfounddeadinhisshack，andtwentyormorecrawledbacktothecamps，leavingtheirthreemonths’paywithSlavinandhissuckers. ’Iwon’tstandit，Isay.’Heturnedfiercelyonme.’What’stobedone？’ Thisrathertookmeaback，forIhadtroubledmyselfwithnothingofthissortinmylifebefore，beingfullyoccupiedinkeepingmyselfoutofdifficulty，andallowingothersthesameprivilege. SoIventuredtheconsolationthathehaddonehispart，andthataspreemoreorlesswouldnotmakemuchdifferencetothesemen. ButthenextmomentIwishedIhadbeenslowerinspeech，forheswiftlyfacedme，andhiswordscamelikeatorrent. ’Godforgiveyouthatheartlessword！Doyouknow——？Butno;youdon’tknowwhatyouaresaying.Youdon’tknowthatthesemenhavebeenclamberingfordearlifeoutofafearfulpitforthreemonthspast，anddoinggoodclimbingtoo，poorchaps.Youdon’tthinkthatsomeofthemhavewives，mostofthemmothersandsisters，intheeastoracrossthesea，forwhosesaketheyareslavinghere; theminershopingtosaveenoughtobringtheirfamiliestothishomelessplace，theresttomakeenoughtogobackwithcredit. Why，there’sNixon，miner，splendidchap;hasbeenherefortwoyears，anddrawingthehighestpay.Twicehehasbeeninsightofhisheaven，forhecan’tspeakofhiswifeandbabieswithoutbreakingup，andtwicethatslicksonofthedevil——that’sScripture，mindyou——Slavin，gothim，and\"rolled\"him，astheboyssay.Hewentbacktotheminesbrokeninbodyandinheart.Hesaysthisishisthirdandlastchance.IfSlavingetshim，hiswifeandbabieswillneverseehimonearthorinheaven.ThereisSandy，too，andtherest.And，’headded，inalowertone，andwiththecuriouslittlethrillofpathosinhisvoice，’thisisthedaytheSaviourcametotheworld.’Hepaused，andthenwithalittlesadsmile，’ButIdon’twanttoabuseyou.’ ’Do，Ienjoyit，I’mabeast，aselfishbeast’;forsomehowhisintense，blazingearnestnessmademefeeluncomfortablysmall. ’Whathavewetooffer？’Idemanded. ’WaittillIhavegotthesethingsclearedaway，andmyhousekeepingdone.’ Ipressedmyservicesuponhim，somewhatfeebly，Iown，forIcan’tbeardishwater;butherejectedmyoffer. ’Idon’tliketrustingmychinatothehandsofatender—foot.’ ’Quiteright，thoughyourchinawouldproveanexcellentmeansofdefenceatlongrange.’Itwasdelf，aquarterofaninchthick. SoIsmokedwhilehewashedup，swept，dusted，andarrangedtheroom. Aftertheroomwasorderedtohistaste，weproceededtoholdcouncil.Hecouldofferdinner，magiclantern，music.’Wecanfillintimefortwohours，but，’headdedgloomily，’wecan’tbeatthedanceandthe\"HighKickers.\"’ ’Haveyounothingneworstartling？’ Heshookhishead. ’Nokindofshow？Dogshow？Snakecharmer？’ ’Slavinhasamonopolyofthesnakes.’ Thenheaddedhesitatingly，’TherewasanoldPunch—and—Judychapherelastyear，buthedied.Whiskyagain.’ ’Whathappenedtohisshow？’ ’TheBlackRockHotelmantookitforboardandwhiskybill.Hehasitstill，Isuppose.’ Ididnotmuchrelishthebusiness;butIhatedtoseehimbeaten，soIventured，’IhaverunaPunchandJudyinanamateurwayatthe’Varsity.’ Hesprangtohisfeetwithayell. ’Youhave！youmeantosayit？We’vegotthem！We’vebeatenthem！’Hehadanextraordinarywayoftakingyourhelpforgranted.’Theminerchaps，mostlyEnglishandWelsh，wentmadoverthepooroldshowman，andmadehimsowealthythatinsheergratitudehedrankhimselftodeath.’ HewalkedupanddowninhighexcitementandinsuchevidentdelightthatIfeltpledgedtomybesteffort. ’Well，’Isaid，’firsttheposter.Wemustbeattheminthat.’ Hebroughtmelargesheetsofbrownpaper，andaftertwohours’ hardworkIhadhalfadozenpictorialshowbillsdoneingorgeouscoloursandstrikingdesigns.Theyweregood，ifIdosayitmyself. Theturkey，themagiclantern，thePunchandJudyshowwereallthere，thelastwithacrowdbeforeitingapingdelight.Afewexplanatorywordswerethrownin，emphasisingthehighlyartisticnatureofthePunchandJudyentertainment. Craigwasdelighted，andproceededtoperfecthisplans.Hehadsomehalfadozenyoungmen，fouryoungladies，andeightortenmatrons，uponwhomhecoulddependforhelp.TheseheorganisedintoavigilancecommitteechargedwiththedutyofpreventingminersandlumbermenfromgettingawaytoSlavin’s.’Thecriticalmomentswillbeimmediatelybeforeandafterdinner，andthenagainaftertheshowisover，’heexplained.’ThefirsttwocrisesmustbelefttothecareofPunchandJudy，andasforthelast，Iamnotyetsurewhatshallbedone’;butIsawhehadsomethinginhishead，forheadded，’IshallseeMrs.Mavor.’ ’WhoisMrs.Mavor？’Iasked.Buthemadenoreply.Hewasabornfighter，andheputthefightingspiritintousall.Wewereboundtowin. Thesportsweretobeginattwoo’clock.Bylunch—timeeverythingwasinreadiness.AfterlunchIwashavingaquietsmokeinCraig’sshackwheninherushed，saying—— ’Thebattlewillbelostbeforeitisfought.IfweloseQuatreBras，weshallnevergettoWaterloo.’ ’What’sup？’ ’Slavin，justnow.Theminersarecomingin，andhewillhavethemintowinhalfanhour.’ Helookedatmeappealingly.Iknewwhathewanted. ’Allright;IsupposeImust，butitisanawfulborethatamancan’thaveaquietsmoke.’ ’You’renothalfabadfellow，’hereplied，smiling.’Ishallgettheladiestofurnishcoffeeinsidethebooth.YoufurnishthemintellectualnourishmentinfrontwithdearoldPunchandJudy.’ Hesentaboywithabellroundthevillageannouncing，’Punch，andJudyinfrontoftheChristmasboothbesidethechurch’;andforthree—quartersofanhourIshriekedandsweatedinthatawfullittlepen.Butitwasalmostworthittoheartheshoutsofapprovalandlaughterthatgreetedmyperformance.Itwascoldworkstandingabout，sothatthecrowdwasquitereadytorespondwhenPunch，afterbeingdulyhanged，cameforwardandinvitedallintotheboothforthehotcoffeewhichJudyhadordered. Intheytrooped，andQuatreBraswaswon. NosoonerweretheminerssafelyengagedwiththeircoffeethanI heardagreatnoiseofbellsandofmenshouting;andonreachingthestreetIsawthatthemenfromthelumbercampwerecomingin. Twoimmensesleighs，decoratedwithribbonsandspruceboughs，eachdrawnbyafour—horseteamgailyadorned，filledwithsomefiftymen，singingandshoutingwithalltheirmight，werecomingdownthehillroadatfullgallop.Roundthecornertheyswung，dashedatfullspeedacrossthebridgeanddownthestreet，andpulledupaftertheyhadmadethecircuitofablock，tothegreatadmirationoftheonlookers.AmongothersSlavinsaunteredupgood—naturedly，makinghimselfagreeabletoSandyandthosewhowerehelpingtounhitchhisteam. ’Oh，youneednottaketroublewithmeormyteam，MikeSlavin. Batcheesandmeandtheboyscanlookafterthemfine，’saidSandycoolly. ThisrejectingofhospitalitywasperfectlyunderstoodbySlavinandbyall. ’Dat’stoobad，heh？’saidBaptistewickedly;’and，Sandy，he’sgotgoodmoneyonhispocketforsure，too.’Theboyslaughed，andSlavin，joiningin，turnedawaywithKeeleandBlaney;butbythelookinhiseyeIknewhewasplaying’Br’erRabbit，’andlyinglow. Mr.Craigjustthencameup，’Hello，boys！toolateforPunchandJudy，butjustintimeforhotcoffeeanddoughnuts.’ ’Bon;dat’sfussrate，’saidBaptisteheartily;’whereyoukeephim？’ ’Upinthetentnextthechurchthere.Theminersareallin.’ ’Ah，datso？Dat’sbadnewsfortheshantymen，heh，Sandy？’saidthelittleFrenchmandolefully. ’Therewasaclothes—basketfullofdoughnutsandaboilerofcoffeeleftasIpassedjustnow，’saidCraigencouragingly. ’Allons，mesgarcons;vite！neversaykeel！’criedBaptisteexcitedly，strippingofftheharness. ButSandywouldnotleavethehorsestilltheywerecarefullyrubbeddown，blanketed，andfed，forhewasenteredforthefour— horseraceanditbehovedhimtodohisbesttowin.Besides，hescornedtohurryhimselfforanythingsounimportantaseating; thatheconsideredhardlyworthyevenofBaptiste.Mr.Craigmanagedtogetawordwithhimbeforehewentoff，andIsawSandysolemnlyandemphaticallyshakehishead，saying，’Ah！we’llbeathimthisday，’andIgatheredthathewasaddedtothevigilancecommittee. OldmanNelsonwasbusywithhisownteam.HeturnedslowlyatMr. Craig’sgreeting，’Howisit，Nelson？’anditwaswithaverygravevoiceheanswered，’Ihardlyknow，sir;butIamnotgoneyet，thoughitseemslittletoholdto.’ ’Allyouwantforagripiswhatyourhandcancover.Whatwouldyouhave？Andbesides，doyouknowwhyyouarenotgoneyet？’ Theoldmanwaited，lookingattheministergravely. ’BecauseHehasn’tletgoHisgripofyou.’ ’HowdoyouknowHe’sgrippedme？’ ’Now，lookhere，Nelson，doyouwanttoquitthisthingandgiveitallup？’ ’No，no！Forheaven’ssake，no！Why，doyouthinkIhavelostit？’saidNelson，almostpiteously. ’Well，He’skeeneraboutitthanyou;andI’llbetyouhaven’tthoughtitworthwhiletothankHim.’ ’TothankHim，’herepeated，almoststupidly，’for——’ ’Forkeepingyouwhereyouareovernight，’saidMr.Craig，almoststernly. Theoldmangazedattheminister，alightgrowinginhiseyes. ’You’reright.ThankGod，you’reright.’Andthenheturnedquicklyaway，andwentintothestablebehindhisteam.Itwasaminutebeforehecameout.Overhisfacetherewasatremblingjoy. ’CanIdoanythingforyouto—day？’heaskedhumbly. ’Indeedyoujustcan，’saidtheminister，takinghishandandshakingitverywarmly;andthenhetoldhimSlavin’sprogrammeandours. ’Sandyisallrighttillafterhisrace.Afterthatishistimeofdanger，’saidtheminister. ’I’llstaywithhim，sir，’saidoldNelson，inthetoneofamantakingacovenant，andimmediatelysetoffforthecoffee—tent. ’Herecomesanotherrecruitforyourcorps，’Isaid，pointingtoLeslieGraeme，whowascomingdownthestreetatthatmomentinhislightsleigh. ’Iamnotsosure.Doyouthinkyoucouldgethim？’ Ilaughed.’Youareagoodone.’ ’Well，’hereplied，halfdefiantly，’isnotthisyourfighttoo？’ ’Youmakemethinkso，thoughIamboundtosayIhardlyrecognisemyselftoday.Butheregoes，’andbeforeIknewitIwasdescribingourplanstoGraeme，growingmoreandmoreenthusiasticashesatinhissleigh，listeningwithaquizzicalsmileIdidn’tquitelike. ’He’sgotyoutoo，’hesaid;’Ifearedso.’ ’Well，’Ilaughed，’perhapsso.ButIwanttolickthatmanSlavin.I’vejustseenhim，andhe’sjustwhatCraigcallshim，\"aslicksonofthedevil.\"Don’tbeshocked;hesaysitisScripture.’ ’Revisedversion，’saidGraemegravely，whileCraiglookedalittleabashed. ’Whatisassignedme，Mr.Craig？forIknowthatthismanissimplyyouragent.’ Irepudiatedtheidea，whileMr.Craigsaidnothing. ’What’smypart？’demandedGraeme. ’Well，’saidMr.Craighesitatingly，’ofcourseIwoulddonothingtillIhadconsultedyou;butIwantamantotakemyplaceatthesports.Iamreferee.’ ’That’sallright，’saidGraeme，withanairofrelief;’Iexpectedsomethinghard.’ ’AndthenIthoughtyouwouldnotmindpresidingatdinner——Iwantittogooffwell.’ ’Didyounoticethat？’saidGraemetome.’Notabadtouch，eh？’ ’That’snothingtothewayhetouchedme.Waitandlearn，’I answered，whileCraiglookedquitedistressed.’He’lldoit，Mr. Craig，neverfear，’Isaid，’andanyotherlittledutythatmayoccurtoyou.’ ’Nowthat’stoobadofyou.ThatisallIwant，honourbright，’hereplied;adding，asheturnedaway，’youarejustintimeforacupofcoffee，Mr.Graeme.NowImustseeMrs.Mavor.’ ’WhoisMrs.Mavor？’IdemandedofGraeme. ’Mrs.Mavor？Theminers’guardianangel.’ Weputupthehorsesandsetoffforcoffee.AsweapproachedtheboothGraemecaughtsightofthePunchandJudyshow，stoodstillinamazement，andexclaimed，’Canthedeadlive？’ ’PunchandJudyneverdie，’Irepliedsolemnly. ’Buttheoldmanipulatorisdeadenough，pooroldbeggar！’ ’Buthelefthismantle，asyousee.’ Helookedatmeamoment’What！doyoumean，you——？’ ’Yes，thatisexactlywhatIdomean.’ ’Heisgreatman，thatCraigfellow——atrulygreatman.’ Andthenheleanedupagainstatreeandlaughedtillthetearscame.’Isay，oldboy，don’tmindme，’hegasped，’butdoyouremembertheold’Varsityshow？’ ’Yes，youvillain;andIrememberyourpartinit.Iwonderhowyoucan，evenatthisremotedate，laughatit.’ForIhadavividrecollectionofhow，aftera’chasteandhighlyartisticperformanceofthismediaevalplay’hadbeengivenbeforeadistinguishedTorontoaudience，thetrapdoorbywhichIhadenteredmyboxwasfastened，andIwaslefttoswelterinmycage，andforcedtolistentothesuffocatedlaughterfromthewingsandthestagewhispersof’Hello，Mr.Punch，where’sthebaby？’AndformanyadayafterIwassubjectedtoanxiousinquiriesastothelocalityandhealthof’thebaby，’andwhetheritwasabletobeout. ’Oh，thedearolddays！’hekeptsaying，overandover，inatonesofullofsadnessthatmyheartgrewsoreforhimandIforgavehim，asmanyatimebefore. ThesportspassedoffintypicalWesternstyle.Inadditiontotheusualrunningandleapingcontests，therewasrifleandpistolshooting，inbothofwhicholdmanNelsonstoodfirst，withShaw，foremanofthemines，second. Thegreateventoftheday，however，wastobethefour—horserace，forwhichthreeteamswereentered——onefromtheminesdrivenbyNixon，Craig’sfriend，acitizens’team，andSandy’s.Theracewasreallybetweentheminers’team，andthatfromthewoods，forthecitizens’team，thoughmadeupofspeedyhorses，hadnotbeendrivenmuchtogether，andknewneithertheirdrivernoreachother. Intheminers’teamwerefourbays，verypowerful，atrifleheavyperhaps，butwellmatched，perfectlytrained，andperfectlyhandledbytheirdriver.Sandyhadhislongrangyroans，andforleadersapairofhalf—brokenpintobronchos.Thepintos，caughtthesummerbeforeupontheAlbertaprairies，werefleetasdeer，butwickedanduncertain.TheywereBaptiste’sspecialcareandpride.Iftheywouldonlyrunstraighttherewaslittledoubtthattheywouldcarrytheroansandthemselvestoglory;butonecouldnottellthemomenttheymightboltorkickthingstopieces. Beingtheonlynon—partisaninthecrowdIwasaskedtoreferee.