CHAPTER VIII
THE WAR DRUM
"And what would the grand news be that you promised to tell me?" askedGrandpa, that evening, when bed-time came and Christina was getting thelittle hymn-book ready.
"The news?" she hesitated, nonplussed. Then she went close and shoutedinto his ear, "Allister is going to take Ellen back to Prairie Parkwhen he comes home, and perhaps she will stay with him all next winter."
And she ran away before he could ask her to go into any of the details.But she could not help hearing him as he talked it over with himself.And the result of his conversation was that though he did not like tosee any one of the family leave, and especially one of his girls, hewas reconciled.
"Aye, it'll be grand for Ellie, she's not been away, the bit lass, fora long time. But it's a grand thing he didn't take away my own lass.Eh, ah'm a selfish old body, but ah could ill spare her."
And once more Christina was rather surprised that she was notdesperately disappointed. It was hard to be very sad in the face ofGrandpa's perfect contentment and Ellen's overwhelming relief.
And so once more Christina turned her feet resolutely from the road tosuccess to walk in the commonplace paths of field and farmyard andhome. Allister came and took Ellen away with him in July. He wasdisappointed at Christina's failure to accompany him, but promised herthe long deferred college course would be hers yet. He was puttingthrough a new deal and if all went well he might be a millionaire oneday.
"Now old Lady Stick-in-the-mud," he shouted jovially, as he badeChristina good-bye, "I see I can't pull you out of this place with astumping machine just yet. But I'll call around for you again in aboutfive years or so, and perhaps you'll be ready then."
Christina tried to laugh and take it all in good part, but it washarder to be misunderstood than it was to give up her chance to Ellen.But her sister did not misunderstand her. "I'll come home soon and dothe work and let you have your turn, Christine," she whisperedtremulously, as she said good-bye. "And oh, oh, Christine, I can'tever, ever tell you how good you've been to me!"
That was Christina's reward and it helped her in the days thatfollowed. For they were not easy days. The heavy summer work was on,and Ellen's ready hands had taken more than half the tasks. Her mothermissed Ellen sorely and was able to do less every day though she triedin every way to help.
And then John went down to the corner and hired Mitty to come up threedays a week and do the heavy work, the washing and cleaning, and otherthings on days when the churning and baking took all Christina's time.
Poor Mitty was delighted to come. Burke had gone to work in Algonquinand came home only on week ends. When he was away Granny was very hardto manage, and it was like being on a holiday to go up to the Lindsays'and know you would not get scolded for a whole long day.
"'Ere I am again, for a 'ole day's fun," she would exclaim, her faceall radiant, and a whole day's fun it certainly was, for Mitty was thegayest and brightest little soul in the world, and, as Mrs. Sutherlandsaid, certainly did not know her place. Granny complained bitterly tothe neighbours, but they all agreed that it was on the whole asbeneficial to her as to Mitty, for she went about and looked afterherself and was quite contented when there was no one there to see thatshe was not suffering.
Ellen wrote brave letters that breathed the relief she felt at gettingaway. The prairies were wonderful, and her days were so full she hadno time to think. She was staying with the people that workedAllister's farm and they were so kind and good. Allister had given hera horse and she was going to learn to ride, only all the girls out hererode astride and it seemed so dreadful she did not think she could doit. Neil's Mission Field was only a half-day's journey away by rail,and she and Allister were going to see him and hear him preach.
Sandy lauded Christina as he read Ellen's letters, telling her againand again that there was no one like her and that she was just acorker, and that was all about it. And Christina glowed with happinessunder his praise and grew fairly radiant over Ellen's cheerfulness.
"I'm not a bit more settled down than I ever was, remember," she warnedSandy. "You'll see I'll get away sometime yet, even if I have to getmarried to do it."
"Well, I hope you will," said Sandy gloomily. "Don't settle down andbe an old maid whatever you do. You're just the sort to do it."
"Why?" gasped Christina in alarm. She wondered if Sandy thought shewas too plain ever to have a suitor.
"Because you've always stayed around home doing the jobs that nobodyelse wanted to do," declared Sandy.
Christina gave a relieved laugh. "Something will happen some day," shepromised. "Just see if it won't."
She repeated the promise to herself many times as she went bravelyabout the kitchen and barnyard.
"Something will happen some day!" But she often added, "But, oh, my, Ido wish it would hurry up and happen soon."
And then something did happen; an event that vitally affected allChristina's future. Something happened which made it unnecessary forany one to go far afield for adventure, for it brought the busy worldof affairs, with its turmoil and sorrow and strife, right inside thegreen walls of Orchard Glen. Away on the other side of the world giantoppression suddenly arose to trample and slay, and freedom leaped upinto a death struggle, and her voice rang round the world, calling onher sons to come to her aid.
It was as peaceful a summer evening as could be, even in Orchard Glen,when the first faint echoes of that Call reached its quiet homes. Theday had been very hot, and evening had come with her cool mantle ofpurple and gold, dew-spangled, and had spread it over the valley. Downin the river pasture the boys were playing foot-ball, and a dull thudcame up the road like the distant boom of a cannon, could anything soincongruous come into the mind on such a peaceful evening? The storeveranda had but few loungers, for the day had been a heavy one on thefarms and was not yet over. The orchards grew pink and then purple inthe evening light, the murmur of the water from the dam came up fromthe mill.
And right into the midst of this calm and peace came the first note ofthe Great Strife. To those who thought about it afterwards, it seemedfitting that the news should have been brought by that warlike lady,Mrs. Johnnie Dunn. She was returning from a second trip to town thatday, and though she liked to send her Ford whirling through the villageas a rebuke to idlers on the store veranda, this evening she slowed upand stopped with a grinding of brakes.
"I say, Sam! Sam Holmes," she cried excitedly, ignoring the crowd onthe steps, "I've got some news that'll help spunk up some o' these lazylumps that's clutterin' up your front door here."
Trooper, who was one of the lumps, tried to efface himself behindMarmaduke, without success. The Woman was glaring right at him.
"Well, well, now, Sarah," said the peaceable Mr. Holmes, "what is it?Has anything gone wrong in town?"
"Gone wrong? Well I should rather say so! Something that'll make yousfolks buy another pound or so o' starch, when I tell you."
"Milk gone down?" guessed Marmaduke innocently. The Woman transferredthe glare that belonged to her nephew upon his companions inwrong-doing.
"It couldn't go any lower than it is," she affirmed sternly, "but it'slikely to go up, yes, and everything else, now! No, sir, there's goin'to be a war, that's what there is. They're fightin' right this minuteover in Germany. The news about it was telegraphed up from Toronto toAlgonquin and everybody says England'll be in it, first thing."
A small ripple of amusement broke over the still, smoky surface of thethe veranda. The Woman was always bringing home startling news andthis was only one of many wild rumours.
"I knew somethin' dreadful would happen if you went to town againto-day," muttered Trooper from his sanctuary behind the coal-oilbarrel. "No wonder there's a war."
"Well, well, now, I declare, is that true," exclaimed Mr. Holmes,comfortably. "There's always trouble in them Balkans. I supposeGermany has got to have her hand in it too. Them Balkans, now," hecontinued with the splendid deliberati
on of one who was an authority oninternational affairs, "them Balkans," he lit his pipe and gave acouple of puffs, "they're nothing but a hot-bed of dissension andintrigue." And having settled Eastern Europe to every one'ssatisfaction, he threw away his match and smoked complacently.
"This ain't no Balkan affair, let me tell you that," cried The Woman,rather chagrined at the lack of excitement. "This is going to be aterrible war. It'll be a reg'lar Army Geddin, and after that the endof the world. Folks was a sayin' that in town to-day; it's prophesiedin the Bible; you can ask any of the ministers and they'll tell you.Here, Tom, come down here and crank up this machine o' mine, I can'thang round here no longer doin' nothin', war or no war."
Very gladly Trooper sprang down and gave the crank a whirl that set thecar roaring away up the hill, speeded by a wave of his arms. Theveranda settled down after the disturbance to talk about the weatherand politics again. But Trooper was interested in the news his Aunthad brought. He had never been content on the little Ontario farmsince the free days when he rode the plains, and soldiering would be agrand job.
"Wonder if England'll be into this?" he asked eagerly.
"No danger," answered Mr. Holmes, puffing authoritatively. "Englanddon't want to get into a war any more'n I do. And nobody'd dare to goto war with her, 'count of her navy."
"There's always some rumour about Germany makin' a war," said Old ToryBrown. "I don't remember the time that it ain't been talked about."
"There'll never be any big kinda war no more, you may bank on that,"said the postmaster, seating himself on a nail keg. "Things is toomuch mixed up for that. Why, trade and commerce wouldn't stand it fortwo days. The banks would all go busted and business would stop. Andthe world has got to a place when business means more than anythingelse. So there'll not be much of a war. 'Course there will always betrouble in them Balkans, I suppose."
Trooper looked distinctly disappointed. "The Woman's always getting upsome storm that never comes to anything," he said aggrievedly. "Ithought she really meant it this time. Gosh, I wish there would be areal bang-up fight with guns shootin' everywhere! Wish the Stateswould come over here or something and try to take Canada. But I guessthere's no such luck."
There were those who did not feel quite so secure as the Orchard Glenpostmaster. There was very terrible news coming from Europe soon, newsthat a people brought up with liberty in the very air they breathed,could not at first comprehend. There came fearful tales, onlyhalf-credited as yet, of an iron nation gone mad with the lust ofpower, and of a free race being trampled in blood and ruin. The cry ofBelgium was reaching to heaven, and a new spirit was beginning to stirin Canadian hearts, the spirit that takes no thought for trade orcommerce, and counts gain as refuse. The new spirit, which is as oldas the cry for freedom, was aroused, and all Canada was listening,breathless, for the Lion's roar, the sound that would tell that thatspirit had not perished from the heart of the British Nation.
And then it came! That call that thundered round the world into everycorner of the Empire, setting the hearts of her youth, whether theybeat under palm or pine, aflame for the Great Cause; and at its sound.Freedom rose up once more from the blood-soaked soil of Flanders, andgave back, yet again, a challenge to the hordes of Tyranny.
To Orchard Glen the first note of that call was a drum beat that camethrobbing over the hills one summer evening, a drum beat that startedin Old London.
Christina had gone up the back lane with the cows in the evening, tosee if the berries were ripe in the Slash.
The Back Hill was very silent and lovely in the evening. Far below herlay her home fields; she could see John and Sandy hauling in their lastload of alfalfa, with Jimmie perched on the top. She opened the barsinto the back pasture and the stately herd trooped in, according toprecedence. Cherry stepped back meekly until Plum walked ahead, forthe cows were all well bred and knew their place. And Plum's place wasalways at the head. She strolled in like some splendid duchess, hermeeker sisters dropping behind. Christina laughed as she put up thebars. She always called Plum Mrs. Sutherland. She wondered if Wallacewould be staying all Summer in Orchard Glen. She was thinking so muchabout him that she did not see some one coming up the opposite slopeuntil a tall figure suddenly appeared on the other side of the fence."Good evening, Christine," said Gavin Grant.
"Good night, Gavin," called Christina. She was always just a littlebit flustered in Gavin's presence. She was half afraid that he caredfor her and just a little bit afraid that he did not care at all.
"How is your haying?" she asked pleasantly.
"Fine. I finished to-day. And I was just looking if these oats wereready. If the rain holds off I'll cut them to-morrow."
"Did Auntie Janet help you?" asked Christina slyly.
Gavin's dark eyes twinkled. "No, she didn't, but I had to give in andget Hughie Reid's boys to help me, or she would have. I'm afraid Ican't manage her alone."
Christina was wondering how many young men she knew on the farms aboutwould be so careful of three old women as Gavin was of his Aunts.Tilly Holmes said that Mrs. Sutherland waited upon Wallace hand andfoot. But then one could not believe half the gossip Tilly repeated.
She pulled a plume of the flaming fire-weed, a bright monument to somesplendid forest monarch that had perished in the flames.
"I like this flower, even if it is only a weed," she said. Gavinsmiled sympathetically.
"I always like weeds best, but I daren't tell my Aunties that," he said.
He was much more at his ease here up on the hills, and he looked veryfine too, with the sleeves rolled back from his strong brown arms, andhis bare head covered with thick wavy hair. If he wore the kind ofclothes that Wallace Sutherland wore, Christina could not help thinkinghe would be quite as handsome.
"I like weeds," he was saying, "though they do give a great deal oftrouble. This bind weed now. It is such a plague but I feel sorryevery time I destroy it."
He pulled a long graceful branch with its exquisite pink blossoms andChristina put out her hand for it. And Gavin was emboldened to gathera little blossom of the blue jay and hand it to her shyly. He wantedto tell her that the fire-weed was like her cheeks and the blue jaylike her eyes, but he could not. He knew Christina's ambition, and hewas too proud to play the lover when he was not wanted.
But he walked by her side, across the Slash, and Christina felt thatold sense of happy companionship in his presence. The berries werefairly falling off the branches in ripe luxuriance, and they filled thelittle pail she had brought in quite too short a time. Behind them thetop of Craig-Ellachie stretched up to catch the last light of thesetting sun. Her home fields spread out beneath; the dusk laying itsvelvet cloak softly over them. The air was so still, the sound of thehorses being driven to the water trough came up from the barnyard.
And then there came across the rose-touched hills a new sound, the dullthrob of a drum.
"What is that?" asked Christina.
They stood side by side and listened, looking in the direction of thetown, where now the electric lights glowed against the sky. The soundcame from the great outside world like the pulse beat of another life,the life into which Christina was longing to plunge.
"Maybe it's about the war," said Gavin; he suddenly raised his head andhis eyes grew bright. "Perhaps it means that England is in it."
"Oh," Christina looked at him surprised. "It would be awful if the OldCountry got into it," she exclaimed. "Surely they won't."
"It would be worse if she did not," said Gavin. "Think of Belgium."
"But what if they sent a Canadian contingent. I wouldn't like anybodyI know to go to war."
Gavin made no reply. Christina wished he would say he would like togo. They stood for a little listening to the drum. And the girl hadno slightest idea that to the young man the sound was as a bugle call.It was Gavin's reveille, and it summoned him across the hills to comeaway. But he knew he could not obey, and he stood silent saying noword of the tumul
t it raised in his heart.
The next day the news that the drum had sent over the hills came toOrchard Glen. England was in the war and she would in all probabilitycall for a Canadian contingent. Indeed Algonquin had not waited toknow, but was going to offer one herself whether the rest of Canada wasloyal or not. And on the very day that Britain entered the Great War,this little obscure town, set far away north in a ring of forest andlake, was calling her sons to go over seas and help the Mother Land.And it was the sound of her drums that had penetrated to the hills ofOrchard Glen and had set Gavin Grant's heart throbbing in time to itsbeat.
Mrs. Johnnie Dunn had gone into town that morning with her milk asusual, and on her return she went out to the hay field to see if hertwo underlings had been attending to business in her absence. Marthyand Trooper Tom were good friends and they were not working so hardthat they were unable to have a little friendly chat. The Woman boredown upon them.
"Well, if ever there was a time when there should be no hangin' roundan' palaverin' that time is jist right now," she declared. "What d'yethink's the latest?"
The two men looked at her, Marthy undisturbed, Trooper alert and eager.
"England's into the war, that's what! Yes, sir, and Sam Holmes didn'tkeep her out of it neither. And they were enlistin' fellows inAlgonquin last night, an' they say that Burke Wright--For the love o'goodness, has the boy gone clean off his head?"
"Sufferin' Moses!" cried Marthy, standing with his fork suspended.
For Trooper had turned his face to the heavens and uttered theear-splitting war whoop that he had learned on the prairies. He threwhis fork up into the air so that it turned a complete somersault, andcame down and stuck neatly in the coil of hay, gave another whoop, andwas off to the barn in wild leaps.
The two stood staring after him. "He didn't get into a bees' nest didhe?" asked Marthy looking around in bewilderment. The Woman threw upher hands in sudden enlightment.
"I'll bet--I'll bet he's off!" she gasped. "He's off to the war an'the hayin's hardly over, an' the harvest jist comin' on! If that don'tbeat----"
But Trooper gave not a thought to either haying or harvest. He was infrantic haste lest he be too late for that fortunate band of recruitsin Algonquin. What if they got off without him? What if the warshould end before he got away? He dashed into the stable and flung thesaddle upon his horse, fastening it with swift, feverish jerks, whilethe sympathetic animal watched him with eager eyes, quivering to beaway.
"Hooray, Polly!" he shouted as he swung over her back, "Hooray forBerlin!"
He went thundering down the lane, roaring good-bye to the two, stillstanding, in the field, gazing open-mouthed. Then he went whirlingdown the road in a cloud of dust, waving his cap and shouting a joyousfarewell to everything and everybody along the way.
Joanna was at her gate looking up the street to see which of the Martinchildren had carried off her watering can, and Marmaduke had stopped tomake love to her on his way home to dinner. They were standinglaughing and joking when the wild horseman came thundering down thehill.
Trooper shot past them, yelling something that neither understood andbefore they could recover from their amazement he had stormed past andwas up over the hill with only the sharp rap of his horse's hoofs totell that it had not all been a vision.
Joanna looked at Marmaduke in real concern. He stood for a momentstaring at the cloud of dust on the hill top, and then he suddenlyslapped his knee.
"He's off to the war!" he shouted. "I bet Trooper's off to enlist.He's the very boy to do it. The Woman stopped here on her way home andsaid there was a Canadian Army to be raised and they were recruitin' inAlgonquin last night. Yes, sir," he ended up heavily. "I just bet youthat's what he's up to." He leaned against the fence and suddenlylooked old and weary.
Joanna's handsome face had turned white. She turned and without a wordwalked into the house steady and erect. And it takes some courage andresolution to walk so when your lover has just gone shouting to thewars without so much as a good-bye wave of the hand, because of thevery joy of going!
The next day Mitty was due for a day of fun at the Lindsays but she didnot appear, and Christina ran down as soon as she could get away,apprehensive that Granny was really ill again. She found the tidylittle house in great disorder, with Mitty sitting on the edge ofGranny's bed, her face swollen with tears, while Granny sat up in bedrocking to and fro and bewailing her fate for a poor unfortunate buddywho should'a' died years agone.
"What has happened?" cried Christina in dismay. "Has Granny----"
"B-b-Burke!" sobbed Mitty, "'E-e's a reservist."
"A what?" cried Christina in alarm. She had some vague idea that thesteady, hard working Burke must have joined some sort of disreputablegang.
"A--a reservist," repeated Mitty between her sobs. "An' they've sentfor 'im an' 'e's goin' to the war. An' me an' Granny'll be left allalone!"
"Do you mean he belongs to the army?" asked Christina bewildered bythis strange new thing which had come into their peaceful lives.
Mitty nodded. "Burke was always a grite feller for the solderin', an''e joined wen 'e was only a bit o' a lad. But 'e never feared after 'ecome out 'ere as anybody would ever send for 'im. An' now 'e'll go tothe wars an be shot down an' we'll be left without 'im."
This was really a terrible calamity, something so big one feared toface it, and Christina could only sit and hold Mitty's hand. She wassoon reinforced by the neighbours, many of whom had heard the sad newsearlier, and had been in to console them. Dr. McGarry had alreadycalled twice to see Granny, though he had not been sent for, and he hadleft her some new powders. Mrs. Sutherland had brought over a littlebook of poems on Strength in Adversity. Tilly Holmes had brought adozen oranges from the store, and Mrs. Sinclair came in while Christinawas there with a bowl of soup.
Christina, mindful of her many duties at home, went back soon and senther mother down, for Mrs. Lindsay was a wonder at bringing comfort andcheer.
Mrs. Holmes was there, having come over to supplement the dozen orangeswith a half-dozen bananas. Joanna had come over early in the morningand carried off Mitty's ironing and was just returning with the basketfilled with beautifully ironed clothes. Joanna hardly ever rejoicedwith them that did rejoice, being rather of the opinion that theyrequired a little wholesome adversity to temper their glee; but herheart was very warm towards those who were in sorrow. And though shehad never taken much interest in Mitty's happiness, and had said manysarcastic things when Burke married her, still she was all sympathywith her in the day of her trial.
"Now, just let's cheer up and don't worry about it at all," sheexclaimed bustling about with an air that was a real tonic. "Mitty,you just shut up your crying right now, and come and help me put awaythese clothes, or you'll have to send Burke away in his night-shirt.He'll never get to the war anyway. The British Navy'll have Germanychased out of Europe long before he'll get there and he'll jist have afree trip to the Old Country and a chance to see all his old friendsand visit his mother. Why, you ought to be glad!"
"Now that's jist right, Mitty," declared Mrs. Holmes cheeringly. "Pasays the war can't last any time. Business can't stand it, and thereain't so much to worry about after all."
Mrs. Lindsay came in with a cup of tea and cream for Granny, and theold lady was much refreshed and sat up and scolded Mitty well forcrying so much. And Mitty pulled herself together and began to feelthat perhaps life could go on even if Burke were away for a time.Granny's scolding did her more good than all the neighbours' sympathy.It was the atmosphere of normal times, and set her back into the sanityof every day surroundings.
And Mrs. Lindsay made a cup of tea for everybody and they all sataround Granny's bed and sewed for Burke and mended everything andtalked about the war in familiar terms, feeling that it had really comeright home to them, and that Orchard Glen, with Trooper and Burke asrepresentatives, had no small part to play.
They talked about Belgium and Austria and Turkey just
as though theywere Dalton, Silver Creek and Algonquin. It made them feel quite grandand important and gave something of a thrill as they spoke familiarlyof those places and at the same time helped to get Burke Wright'sclothes ready to go away and fight the Germans.
"And how was it you and Joanna let Trooper go?" asked Mrs. Holmes ofMrs. Johnnie Dunn who had dropped in on her way from town, whither shehad followed her impetuous warrior.
"He didn't wait to ask neither of us, I guess," said The Woman. "Tomain't the fellow to ask anybody's leave when there's any fightin' todo." It appeared that though she would have died rather than admit it,Mrs. Johnnie Dunn was secretly proud of the way Trooper had gone off tothe war, and would hear no adverse comments upon his conduct. Joannamade no reply to the raillery. These days were harder upon Joanna thanupon Mitty, for she was denied even the luxury of grieving. ButTrooper had not gone. He was still in Algonquin and would perhaps behome yet. And though her pride was badly hurt, Joanna had not at allgiven up hope.
In Orchard Glen Page 8
