The Mistress of Bonaventure

by Harold Bindloss

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE BURNING OF GASPARD'S TRAIL

  The hole in the roof of the sod-house had been insufficiently stopped,the green birch billets stored in a corner burned sulkily in the rustystove, so that the earth-floored room was bitterly cold. Still, aftertying my horse at one end of it, and partly burying myself in a heap ofprairie hay, I managed to sink into a light slumber. I awakened feelingnumbed all through, with the pain at the joints which results fromsleeping insufficiently protected in a low temperature, and looked aboutme shivering. There was not a spark in the stove, the horse was stampingimpatiently, and, when a sputtering match had shown me that it was aftertwo in the morning, I rose stiffly. Anything appeared better than slowlyfreezing there, and I strode out into the night, leading the horse bythe bridle.

  A cold wind swept the prairie, and it was very dark; but, when we hadcovered a league or so, and the exercise had warmed me, a dull red glareappeared on the horizon. A grass fire was out of the question at thatseason, and it was evident that somebody's homestead was burning. I wasin the saddle the next moment and riding fast towards the distant blaze.The frozen sod was rough, the night very black, and haste distinctlyimprudent; but I pressed on recklessly, haunted by a fear that the sceneof the conflagration was Bonaventure. Reaching the edge of a rise, Ipulled the horse up with a sense of vast relief, for a struggling birchbluff gave me my bearings and made it plain that neither Haldane'shomestead nor his daughter could be in peril.

  Then it dawned on me that the fire was at Gaspard's Trail and I satstill a minute, irresolute. I had no doubt that the recent purchaser wasmerely acting for Lane, and I felt tempted to resume my journey; butcuriosity, or the instinct which calls out each prairie settler when hisneighbor's possessions are in jeopardy, was too strong for me, and Irode towards the blaze, but much more slowly. It was one thing to risk abroken limb when danger appeared to threaten Bonaventure, but quiteanother to do so for the sake of an unscrupulous adversary. It wouldhave been well for me had I obeyed the first impulse which promptedme--and turned my back upon the fire.

  An hour had passed before I reached the house which had once been mine,and, after tethering the horse in shelter of an unthreatened granary, Iproceeded to look about me. Gaspard's Trail was clearly doomed. One endof the dwelling had fallen in. The logs, dried by the fierce summer,were blazing like a furnace, and a column of fire roared aloft into theblackness of the night. Showers of sparks drove down-wind, barns andstables were wrapped in smoke; but, although the blaze lighted up thespace about them, there was nobody visible. This was in one respect notsurprising, because the nearest homestead stood a long distance away,but, as the new owner had an assistant living with him, I wondered whathad become of them. From the position of the doors and windows theycould have had no difficulty in escaping, so, deciding that if theostensible proprietor had deserted his property I was not called on toburn myself, I proceeded to prowl about the buildings in case he shouldbe sheltering inside one of them.

  Finally I ran up against him carrying an armful of tools out of a shed,and he dropped them at sight of me. "Hallo! Where did you spring from?Blamed hard luck, isn't it?" said he.

  Niven, for that was his name, did not appear greatly disconcerted, orwas able to face his loss with enviable tranquillity. He was a lanky,thin-faced man, with cunning eyes, and I did not like the way he lookedat me.

  "I was out on the prairie and saw the blaze. Where's your hired man;and is there nothing better worth saving than these?" I asked.

  "I haven't seen Wilkins since he woke me up," was the answer. "Heshouted that the place was burning, and he'd run the horses out of thestable and on to the prairie, while I hunted up odd valuables anddressed myself. He must have done it and ridden off to the nearest ranchfor help, for I haven't seen him since. The fire had got too good a holdfor us to put it out."

  If I had hitherto entertained any doubts as to the ownership ofGaspard's Trail, the speaker's manner would have dissipated them. No manwould, in the circumstances, have wasted time in speech had his ownproperty been in danger; and the sight of the homestead, which I hadspent the best years of my life in building, now burning without aneffort being made to save it, filled me with indignation.

  "You're the man who used to own this place, aren't you?" asked Niven,with a sidelong glance. "Should have thought you would have had enoughof it; but you might as well help heave these things out, now you'rehere."

  The question was innocent, if unnecessary, for I had spoken to him atthe sale; but the manner in which he put it made me long to assault him,and I answered wrathfully: "I'll see you and your master burned before Imove a hand!"

  "I'm my own master, worse luck!" said the other coolly, before hecommenced to gather up his load; and then turned again as another mancame up breathless.

  "Is that you, Ormesby. Come to see the last of it?" he said; and I sawthat the newcomer was Boone, or Adams, the photographer.

  "I don't quite know what I came for," I answered. "Probably out ofcuriosity. It's too late to save anything, even if there were more waterin the well than there used to be."

  Boone nodded as he glanced towards the house. It was burning morefiercely than ever. The straw roof of the stable, which stood not faraway, was also well alight, and we could scarcely hear each other'svoices through the crackling of blazing logs and the roaring of theflame. It was moodily I watched it toss and tower, now straight aloft,now hurled earthwards by the wind in bewildering magnificence. Aftermany a hard day's toil I had robbed myself of much needed sleep tofashion what the pitiless fire devoured, and it seemed as though I hadgiven my blood to feed the flame, and that the hopes which had nerved mehad dissipated like its smoke. "I can guess what you're feeling, but abad failure is sometimes the best way to success. You will get over it,"said Boone.

  I was grateful, but I did not answer him, for just then a rattle ofwheels broke through the roar of the conflagration, and two joltingwagons lurched into the glare. Black figures on horseback followed, anda breathless man ran up. "Trooper came round and warned us, and there'smore behind. Looks as if we'd come too late," he said.

  We formed the center of an excited group in a few more minutes, forNiven had joined us, and, when he had answered some of the manyquestions, he asked one in turn. "It was my man Wilkins warned you?"

  "I guess not," was the answer. "Trooper Chapleau saw the blaze on hisrounds"; and, when the others had stated how the news had been passed onto them, the new owner said: "Then where in the name of thunder has thefool gone?"

  A swift suspicion flashed upon me, and I glanced at Adams; but his facewas serene enough, and, when the question remained unanswered, anotherthought struck me. "Did you see him lead the horses out?" I asked.

  "No," was the answer. "He was good at handling beasts, and I was way toobusy to worry about him. Must have done it long ago. I made sure he'dlit out to ask for assistance, when I saw the door had swung to."

  I twisted round on my heel. "Who's coming with me to the stable, boys?"I asked.

  The men looked at me and then at the fire. The stable was built of thestoutest logs obtainable, packed with sod, and its roof of branches,sod, and straw piled several feet thick to keep out the frost. Awind-driven blaze eddied about one end of it, but the rest of the lowedifice appeared uninjured as far as we could see it through the smoke.The glare beat upon the weather-darkened faces of the spectators, whichglowed like burnished copper under it; but, if devoid of malicioussatisfaction, I thought I could read a resolve not to interfere stampedon most of them.

  "There's nothing of yours inside, and this fellow says the teams areclear," said one. "A bigger fire wouldn't stop us if the place wasOrmesby's; but when the man who allows he owns it does nothing I'll notstir a finger to pull out a few forks and pails for that black thiefLane."

  His comrades nodded, and another man said: "It's justice. Boys, you'llremember the night we brought Redmond home?"

  I knew the first speaker's statement was true enough. One and all wouldhave freely
risked their lives to assist even a stranger who had dealtfairly with them; but they were stubborn men, unused to oppression, andrecent events had roused all the slow vindictiveness that lurked withinthem. I felt very much as they did; but, remembering something, I wasnot quite certain that the teams were out of the stable, and the dumbbeasts had served me well. Before I could speak a police trooper came upat a gallop. "Hallo! What are you gaping at? Can't you stir around andpull anything clear of harm's way, boys?" he shouted.

  "We're not a Montreal fire brigade, and I forgot my big helmet," saidone.

  "Not a stir," interjected another.

  "We'd pull the very sod up off the corral if you'd run Lane in forwholesale robbery," added a third; and it was not until the hoarse laughwhich followed died away that I found my opportunity.

  "I'm afraid the horses are inside there, boys," I said. "It's not theirfault they belong to Lane, and whether you come along or not, I'm goingto liberate them."

  There was a change in a moment. I never saw even the most unfortunatesettler ill-use his beast, though all young plow oxen and half-brokenbroncos, besides a good many old ones, are sufficiently exasperating."Ormesby's talking now," said somebody; and there was an approvingchorus. "Get the poor brutes clear, anyway. Coming right along!" Then Istarted for the stable at a run, with the rest of the company hardbehind me.

  Thick smoke rolled between us and the door, and when we halted justclear of the worst of it a bright blaze shot up from the thatch. Theheat scorched our faces, and one or two fell back with heads averted;but the sound of a confused trampling reached us from the building."We've got to get in before the poor brutes are roasted, and do itmighty smartly," said somebody.

  That at least was evident; but the question how it was to beaccomplished remained, for I recoiled, blinded and choking, at the firstattempt, before I even reached the door. I had framed it, with my ownhands, of stout tenoned logs, so that it would fit tightly to keep outthe frost. One of the posts loosened by the fire had settled, apparentlysince the last person entered the building. Another man went with me thesecond time, but though we managed to reach the handle the door remainedimmovable, and once more we reeled back beaten, when a strip of blazingthatch fell almost on our heads. Because the roof fed it, the fire wasmostly on the outside of the building.

  "Solid as a rock," gasped my companion. "Say, somebody find a lariat andwe'll heave her out by the roots."

  A rope was found and with difficulty hitched about the handle, afterwhich a dozen strong men grasped the slack of it. A glance at theirfaces, illumined by the glare, showed that the thought of the sufferingbeasts had roused them, and they were in earnest now. There was a heaveof brawny shoulders, a straining of sinewy limbs, and the line of bodiesswayed backwards as one, when a voice rose: "All together! Heave yourbest!"

  I felt the straining hemp contract within my grasp. Trampling feetclawed for a firmer hold on the frozen sod, and I could hear the menbehind me panting heavily. The door remained fast, however, and again abreathless voice encouraged us: "This time does it! Out she comes!"

  The rope creaked, the trampling increased, and a man behind kicked mecruelly on the ankle during his efforts; but instead of the jammed door,its handle came out, and the next moment we went down together in onestruggling heap. "There was a good birch log by the granary. We'll useit for a ram," I gasped.

  Two men brought the log, which was unusually long and heavy for thatregion, where the stoutest trees are small, and Boone and I staggeredwith the butt of it into the smoke. The rest grasped the thinner end,swung it back, and drove the other forward with all the impetus theycould furnish. The door creaked, but the most manifest result was thefall of a further strip of burning thatch on us.

  "We must manage this time," spluttered Boone. "If we once let go it willbe too late before anyone else takes hold again."

  Once more the door defied us. The heat was almost stifling, the smokethicker than ever; but, choking, panting, and dripping withperspiration, we managed to swing and guide the end of the log until thebattered frame went down with a crash, and we two reeled over it intothe building. The fire which traveled along the roof had eaten a portionout, but though one strip of the interior was flooded with lurid light,the smoke of a burning hay pile rolled about the rest. A horse wassquealing in agony; one stall partition had been wrenched away, andanother kicked to pieces; while two panic-stricken brutes blunderedabout the building. The rest were plunging and straining at theirtethers, and there was a curious look in Boone's face as he turned tome.

  "Somebody will risk being kicked to death before we get them out. I wishwe could give their owner the first chance," he said.

  Several of the agonized beasts had been in times of loneliness almost ashuman friends to me. Others had, in their own dumb faithful way, helpedme to realize my first ambitions, and the sight of their sufferingturned me savage. "Do you know anything of this?" I asked.

  Boone wheeled around on me with a menace in his eyes, but apparentlymastering his temper with an effort, laughed unpleasantly. "No. Takecare you are not asked the same question. Are you disposed to let thehorses roast while we quarrel?"

  The latter, at least, was out of the question, and I had only paused togather breath and consider a plan of operations, for it is by no meanseasy to extricate frantic beasts from a burning building. The others inthe meantime were gathering around, and we set about it as best wecould. At times thick smoke wreaths blew into our eyes, the heat grewinsupportable, and the first horse I freed would have seized me with itsteeth but that I smote it hard upon the nostrils. Two men were knockeddown and trampled on, another badly kicked, but amid an indescribableconfusion the task was accomplished, until only one badly burned horse,and another with a broken leg, remained inside the building.

  "We can't leave them to grill," I said. "Thorn used to keep an oldshotgun inside the chop-chest lid."

  It was Boone who brought me the weapon, and the burned horse was quicklyput out of its misery; but a portion of the roof fell in as I rantowards the other. This one lay still, and, I saw, recognized me. It hadcarried me gallantly on many a weary ride, and was the one on whichLucille Haldane had leaped across the fence. I felt like a murderer whenit turned its eyes on me with an almost human appeal, for all that Icould do was to press the deadly muzzle against its head. The shock ofthe detonation shook down a shower of blazing fragments, and I hadturned away with a horrible sense of guilt, when somebody shouted,"There's a man in the end stall!"

  The stall was hidden by the smoke, but, now that the emptied stable wasquieter, a voice reached us faintly through the vapor: "Won't anyonetake me out of this?"

  Several of us made a rush in that direction; but, so far as memoryserves, only Boone and I reached the stall, and, groping around itblindly, came upon something which resembled a human form. We lifted itbetween us, and the man both groaned and swore; then, staggering throughthe vapor, we came, blackened, burned a little, and half-asphyxiated,into the open. The rest were already outside, and, when we laid down ourburden, they stood about him, panting.

  "You've nearly killed me between you, boys, but it wasn't your fault,"he gasped. "Horse fell over me when I tried to turn him loose." Thehalf-articulate words which followed suspiciously suggested that thesufferer was cursing somebody, and I caught the name of Lane before helapsed into semi-consciousness.

  "It's pretty simple," one of the onlookers said. "The way Ormesby fixedthat door, it shut itself. He got some bones smashed, and was turnedhalf-silly by the shock. Couldn't make us hear him even if he had senseenough. My place is the nearest, and I'll take him along."

  I heard my name called softly, and saw Boone standing apart from therest. "I want to ask why you spoke as you did a little while ago?" hesaid.

  "I did not stop to reflect just then, but I'll hear your explanation ifyou care to volunteer one before I apologize," I said.

  "I was camped under a bluff with the wagon when I saw the blaze, and asthe distance was not great, I came in on foot," was t
he answer. "That isthe simple truth. Do you believe it?"

  "Yes," I said, for his manner impressed me. "In turn, you also hintedsomething."

  "I was giving you a warning," said Boone. "You are dealing with adangerous man, and can't you see that if there is any doubt concerningthe fire's origin a charge might be worked up against you? Be carefulwhat you say; but as I see the sergeant yonder, you need not mention mypresence unless it is necessary."

  I alluded to Haldane's desire to see him, and, when he vanished,followed the rest into the presence of Sergeant Mackay, who, ubiquitousas usual, had mysteriously appeared. He sat motionless in his saddle,with slightly compressed lips, though his keen eyes moved along theencircling faces. It was evident that he was making an official inquiry,and the owner of the homestead was speaking.

  "My name is Niven, late of the Brandon district, and I purchased thisproperty recently," he said.

  "Any partners?" asked the sergeant; and I noticed a gleam of whatappeared malicious satisfaction in the other's face as he answered: "No.You will find my name recorded as sole owner. All was right when Iturned in about ten o'clock, but I didn't notice the time when my hiredman Wilkins roused me to say the house was burning. Had too much tothink about. Can't suggest any cause for the fire, and it doesn't countmuch, anyway, for the result is certain. House and stable burnedout--and all uninsured."

  "Had ye any other hired man than Wilkins?" interposed the sergeant; andNiven answered: "No. Stable didn't seem to be burning when I first gotup, but Wilkins said it was swept by sparks and he'd get the horses out.One of them must have knocked him down, and he was only found at thelast minute."

  "Who was the first man ye met when ye went out?" asked the sergeant.

  "My predecessor--Ormesby," said Niven.

  Mackay appeared to meditate before he spoke again: "Where did ye meethim, and what did he say?"

  "Slipping around the corner of a shed, and he said he'd see me burntbefore he stirred a hand to help," was the prompt answer. Then Mackayquestioned several others before he turned to me.

  "How did ye happen to come to Gaspard's Trail, Henry Ormesby?"

  "I was riding out from Bonaventure to intercept the freighter and sawthe blaze," I answered indignantly. "I certainly refused to help Nivenat first, for I had little cause for goodwill towards him or the manbehind him; but afterwards I saved most of his working beasts."

  There was a murmur of assent from the bystanders, but the sergeant,disregarding it, spoke again: "Did ye meet the freighter?"

  "No," I said bluntly.

  Mackay smiled. "Ye did not. I passed him an hour gone by on the Buffalotrail. What was your business with him?"

  "To ask him for a package."

  "All that should be easily corroborated," was the answer; and I was gladthat the examination was over, for, remembering Boone's warning, itappeared that my answers might give rise to unpleasant suspicions. Italso struck me that, in the hurry and confusion, nobody had noticed himor remembered it if they had done so, while, somewhat strange to say,after the last brief interview I had full confidence in his statementthat he knew nothing about the origin of the fire.

  "I'm thinking that will do in the meantime. Chapleau, ye'll ride in tothe depot and wire for a surgeon. Now, boys, are any of ye willing totake Niven home?" asked Mackay.

  Apparently none of them were willing, though at last two offers werereluctantly made. It was the only time I ever saw the prairie settlersdeficient in hospitality; but the man's conduct had confirmed theirsuspicions as to his connection with Lane, which was sufficient toprejudice the most generous. "Maybe he would be comfortable if I tookhim along with me," Mackay said dryly.

  Thereupon the assembly broke up, and I rode back to Bonaventure,reaching it with the first of the daylight, blackened and singed,while, as it happened, Lucille Haldane was the first person I met."Where have you been? Your clothes are all burned!" she said.

  "Gaspard's Trail is burned down and I helped to save some of thehorses," I answered wearily; and I never forgot the girl's firststartled look. She appeared struck with a sudden consternation. Itvanished in a moment, and, though she looked almost guilty, her answerwas reassuring.

  "Of course; that is just what you would do. But you are tired and mustrest before you tell me about it."

  I was very tired, and slept until noon, when I told my story to Haldaneand his daughter together. The former made very few comments, butpresently I came upon Lucille alone, and laid my hand on her shoulder asI said: "Do you know that somebody suggested it was I who burnedGaspard's Trail?"

  The girl's color came and went under my gaze; then she lifted her headand met it directly. "I--I was afraid you might be suspected, and forjust a moment or two, when you first came in looking like a ghost, I didnot know what to think," she said. "But it was only because you startledme so."

  "I would not like to think that you could believe evil against me," Isaid; and Lucille drew herself up a little. "Do not be ungenerous. Assoon as I could reason clearly I knew it was quite--quite impossible."

  "I hope any work of that kind is," I said; and Lucille Haldane, turningsuddenly, left me.