“And your mama and papa?”
Elspeth hesitated and then said, “Margaret and Duncan MacDonald.”
Muttering to himself, the conductor left them and continued on his way down the train. Robbie rose from his seat and struggled past Elspeth, about to follow the man, but she pulled him back.
“He’s going to find Mama and Papa, isn’t he?” Robbie asked breathlessly.
“No, he’s not,” Elspeth answered harshly.
“But he said . . . and you said . . .” Robbie’s voice trailed off.
“Never mind what I said!” Elspeth leaned her forehead against the cold glass of the window, wishing now that she had told the man the truth. He seemed nice, not busy and disinterested like the social worker. But it was so hard to tell about people.
A few minutes later, the conductor returned with two mugs of soup, and handed them to Robbie and Elspeth. “You can’t buy meals on this train,” he said. “There’s stoves at the end of each coach, and water, but that’s not much use if you haven’t brought your own food or anything to cook it in. You might get something when we stop at a station, but they are few and far between. And I don’t suppose you have money.”
“I have a little,” Elspeth admitted cautiously.
As it turned out, Elspeth didn’t need to spend her money. The conductor made sure they had something to eat whenever a mealtime came around. He seemed to have taken a fancy to wee Rob. He escorted him down the train to see the engine driver, and didn’t seem to mind that Robbie was soon spending most of the day following him through the carriages.
Elspeth knew she would have had a hard time keeping Robbie entertained on the long train ride, but she missed him when he was gone. She stared out the window at the ever-changing yet never-changing scene. It was a cold land, and the land was still in the grip of winter. An empty land—rugged, vast, and lonely. After Montreal, the few stations where they stopped had an air of impermanence, with wooden platforms and rough, unfinished-looking buildings. The towns were not yet part of the landscape the way they were in Scotland. Sometimes she saw abandoned clearings and gaunt, burned trees, which must have spelled the end of some pioneer’s dreams.
For want of anything better to occupy her, Elspeth began listened to snatches of conversation from the men across the aisle, who were passing the hours in a never-ending card game. It seemed that after the train reached Saskatoon, everyone still had to travel north for two hundred miles to reach the Barr colony and there was no railroad, not even a proper road. Elspeth wondered how they knew, but looking at the country they were passing through made it seem possible. One of the men, whose name was Arthur, said they were lucky to be on the first train because they’d have the chance to buy plows and cattle and supplies in Saskatoon. By the time the other trains arrived, everything would be sold out. Someone said Barr was going to organize a wagon train, but the others seemed to doubt he would. They didn’t intend to wait around and see. They were going to go north on their own.
On the fourth day, the train crossed into the Province of Manitoba. Robbie was too busy watching the card game to be disappointed that it wasn’t at all like the place Elspeth had described on the boat. But all day long, Elspeth sat staring out the window, wondering what she and Robbie should do.
Two men in the seat behind talked of leaving the train in Winnipeg, saying they’d sooner be on their own than depend on Barr. “We’d be better off getting land in a place that’s already settled,” one of them argued. “That way we can learn from people who’ve been here awhile.”
Elspeth wondered if she and Robbie should get out at Winnipeg, too, and begin their search for Uncle Donald. There was no sense in going all the way to Saskatoon only to have to come back. But how could they escape the kindly watchfulness of the conductor? He always made sure they were safely back on board after each stop. And there was no way she could tell him about Uncle Donald and Aunt Maud now—not after letting him think they had parents worrying about them in St. John. Besides, how would she go about looking for Uncle Donald in a place where there was so much land and so few people? And there was always that gnawing thought that she wouldn’t like Aunt Maud. Even worse—Aunt Maud and Uncle Donald might not want them.
Elspeth stared out at the flat, treeless landscape, knowing that there was still another reason she didn’t want to leave the train. In spite of what everyone else was saying, she believed in Mr. Barr. After all, she had spoken to him, and he’d said she was the sort of person the colony needed—young and willing to learn. And Papa had been so excited about being part of this venture, about owning land that would someday belong to his children and their children. As long as she stayed with the Barr colonists there seemed to be a thread linking her to Papa’s dreams, a thread that would be broken if she turned to Uncle Donald and asked for charity.
What was it that Isaac Barr had said in his pamphlet? There are difficulties and drawbacks to be encountered; but for the brave man obstacles are something to be overcome. There were plenty of obstacles in her path, but there must be a way around them. She would find Mr. Barr and explain to him why they had come by themselves. Maybe he would let them stay with him till they were old enough to farm on their own. As a minister he would need a maid to keep his place clean and answer the door. She would work really hard, and Robbie would be no trouble at all.
Isaac Barr wasn’t on their train, so Elspeth decided that when they arrived in Saskatoon, she and Robbie would find somewhere to stay till she had the chance to speak to him. She had money and there must be hotels or boarding houses because the men spoke of spending a few days in Saskatoon getting their outfits together for the journey north. She tried not to think about what she’d do if Mr. Barr wouldn’t help her.
On their last day on the train everyone seemed as bored as Elspeth and as restless as Robbie. Even the card players had lost interest in their game. Only one man wanted to continue playing and that was Arthur’s brother, Geoffrey, a thin man with lank hair that flopped down over his forehead. He’d lost a pile of money that Arthur claimed wasn’t his to lose.
“Don’t worry, Arthur! I’ll win it back,” Geoffrey assured him. “And if I don’t, we’ll ask Father for a loan. He said he’d send us more cash if we found things tight over here.”
“He said no such thing!”
“Well, he should have,” Geoffrey answered. “It’s not fair that Edgar gets Rainwater Manor while we’re shipped off to this god-forsaken place. There should be a law protecting younger sons.”
“You could have stayed at Cambridge,” Arthur pointed out. “You didn’t have to come.”
“You know they tossed me out!” Geoffrey answered cheerfully. “Too bad you never got to go there, Arthur! We had some jolly good times.”
“I never wanted to go to university. I always wanted to see Canada.
“And now you’re seeing it,” answered Geoffrey. “Not exactly my idea of the Promised Land!”
The rhythm of the train began to change as it approached a station and slowed down.
“Don’t tell me this is Saskatoon that we’ve been hearing so much about,” Geoffrey said in tones of despair.
Elspeth stared out of the window. Even she had expected more. Saskatoon was scarcely more than a village, hemmed in by a river and the prairie. A few wooden houses and small stores were scattered along both sides of the railway track. The only building of any size was the Government Immigration Building. The station was a small shack, not nearly big enough to accommodate all the passengers. When the train came to a stop, everyone scrambled down onto the bare prairie. Someone helped Elspeth with her bag and lifted Robbie down beside her.
“What’s going to happen now?” Robbie asked.
Elspeth had no answer.
Chapter 7
“Stay at home—don’t come to Canada”
APRIL 17, 1903
“They’ve had no word about your parents at the railway station,” the conductor told Elspeth in a worried voice. “Here, let me take you
r bag and we’ll go in and talk to the immigration people. Maybe they’ll have heard something.”
The spring thaw had turned the unpaved streets to rivers of mud. The mud caked Elspeth’s shoes and splashed her woolen stockings as she followed the kindly conductor to the Immigration Building. The place was dirtier and shabbier than anything Elspeth remembered from Glasgow. She couldn’t tell if half the buildings were going up or falling down. And the wind was so cold that she welcomed the thought of getting indoors, even if it meant confronting another official. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say—or what Robbie would say—but at least she could find out where the hotel was.
When they reached the building, the conductor ushered them inside, saying cheerfully to a bald, red-faced man who was sitting behind a desk, “I’ve two lost bairns here. They got on the wrong train back in New Brunswick. Have you heard from their parents?”
“Lost children! Just what we need!” the man answered in an irritated voice. “Leave them here and I’ll see if I can straighten things out.”
“They’re good bairns,” the conductor said. “I’d be proud of them if they were mine.”
“There’s something I want to tell you before you go,” Elspeth said, timidly addressing the conductor. She was suddenly tired of deceiving everybody. This nice man, with his voice like Papa’s, would surely understand.
“No, no!” the conductor said, waving her aside. “No need to say anything. You don’t owe me any thanks. I enjoyed the journey with you bairns along. As I said before your father and mother are lucky people. It is a fine pair of children they have!”
He pulled a small bag of barley sugar out of his pocket and handed it to Elspeth. Then he ruffled Robbie’s hair and was gone, swallowed up in a crowd of men coming into the building. Elspeth stood there, unable to finish what she was going to say.
“I had something to tell him,” she said wildly, turning to the immigration officer. “We don’t have anyone coming on another train. We’re all alone—just by ourselves.”
Up until this time, the man had been only mildly annoyed by having to deal with another problem. Now he turned his full attention on Elspeth, staring at her with incredulous eyes.
“Say that again!” he thundered.
“We’re all by ourselves. No one is coming on another train. You see, our mama and papa are dead.”
“This beats everything!” he said, throwing up his hands. “Isaac Moses Barr and his colony! Bringing all these people here without first making proper arrangements for food and accommodation. Two thousand people dumped on a town of four hundred inhabitants! And who’s having to bail him out? The Canadian government—that’s who! And now this! Orphans—walking in here and telling me they’re on their own—that they came out with the colony. Let me tell you, we’re setting up no orphanage here. If it’s the only thing I get done today, I’m sending you back to where you came from. This is one thing Barr doesn’t get away with.”
Elspeth stared at the man, not sure why he was so angry, or even who he was so angry with. But one thing she did know—in finally telling someone the truth, she’d made a big mistake. This man was one of them.
He took Elspeth and Robbie into a small, cluttered back room with high windows and told them to sit down on the only two chairs. The table was over-flowing with papers, and dirty mugs, and ashtrays that needed emptying. Another man joined them, a dark, swarthy man with a big moustache. The two men towered over the children, both asking questions.
“Could I just stay here till I can talk to Mr. Barr, sir?” Elspeth asked timidly. “You see, on the boat—”
The mention of Mr. Barr made the immigration officer even angrier.
Elspeth tried to explain that they had tickets, so they had as much right to be on the boat as anyone else. Maybe if they helped her find Uncle Donald in Manitoba . . . . No one listened. But for some reason, they did listen when Robbie suddenly spoke up and said they’d been Shadow Bairns on the boat.
“What’s all this about Shadow Bairns?” the dark man asked.
“We played all over the boat,” Robbie said, brightening up at the memory of the fun they’d had. “We hid everywhere.”
“Shadow Bairns are quiet,” Elspeth whispered savagely.
“How many of you were there?”
“Lots,” Robbie said.
“Just us two,” Elspeth said at the same time.
“They’ve shipped us a whole orphanage, that’s what they’ve done!” the bald man said, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Children hiding all over the ship. It’s some kind of invasion.” He glared at Elspeth and Robbie as if they were a species of rodent that was about to overrun Canada. They shrank back in their chairs.
“An invasion! Now that’s a bit far-fetched,” the other man said. “Though I still don’t see how these two came all this way on their own. Why weren’t they stopped at St. John?”
“They ship us all these people they don’t have jobs for in the Old Country,” the first man said, warming to his idea. “Why not carry it one step farther and send us their unwanted children? I tell you, they’ve sent us a shipload of orphans.”
“That’s not true,” Elspeth said, feeling more indignant than frightened. “We came on our own. We had tickets like everybody else. Anyway, I’m nearly fourteen. I’m too old for an orphanage. I’m going to get a job as a maid.”
But Elspeth’s outburst was ignored. She fought back tears of frustration. She would never convince them she was old enough to look after herself and Robbie if she broke down and cried.
“I’m not about to believe there are more until I see them,” the man with the moustache said.
“And I don’t want to see more of them. I’m going to have the next train stopped and searched before it gets here. You heard the lad say there were lots of them on the boat. I’ll send a telegram right away.”
He went over to the desk, pushing aside the papers in search of a pencil.
“You’re going to be the laughingstock of the department. Keep it in perspective, George! We have two lost children. Why would they be here on their own if they’re part of a bigger group?”
“Maybe they were sent ahead to find out how things are here.” George’s voice trailed off as he looked at the children. They weren’t the type you’d choose for spies—the girl with her ill-fitting clothes and thin, white face, the boy with untied boots, a runny nose, jacket buttoned wrong, and hanging onto a battered toy. The man took a red handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. He knew his imagination was running out of control, but this whole scheme of Barr’s was so overblown that he’d reached the stage where no idea was too bizarre.
“It’s all the fault of those immigration people at St. John,” he said angrily, looking for someone to blame. “They’re responsible and it’s up to them to decide what to do with these children. They should never have been let into the country without someone to sign for them. We’ll put them on the eastbound train tomorrow and I’ll telegraph the people at St. John to expect them. There’s no place for them here.”
“What do we do with them till tomorrow?” the dark man asked.
“They can sleep in one of the tents on the other side of the tracks.”
“Will they be warm enough?”
“They’ve got blankets, haven’t they?” George snapped, turning away from the children and leaving the room.
The other man picked up their bag and blankets. Elspeth and Robbie followed him timidly. He stopped at the door and asked if they’d eaten supper. When Elspeth shook her head, he took them to a crowded store, where he bought cold sausage, bread and milk. Now that he was on his own, Elspeth found him less alarming. She tried once more to convince him that it would be easier for everyone if he would help her find Uncle Donald, or at least let them wait long enough to talk to Mr. Barr. No one wanted them in St. John. Or in Scotland.
“Rules are rules,” the man answered firmly. “This is a wild, new country and there’s no place for you here.”
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On the edge of the prairie, on the other side of the railway tracks, tents were sprouting up like pointed mushrooms. Robbie kept stumbling and tripping over guy ropes as the man led them though the maze of tents.
“You can stay in here,” he said, opening the flap of a big army tent. “This one has a floor in it, which makes it a bit warmer than sleeping on the ground. With the ice just gone from the rivers, it’s still cold at night.”
The tent was big and bare and smelled of wet canvas.
“There’ll be seven of eight families in here tomorrow night,” the man told Elspeth. “It won’t seem so empty then!”
“The families are coming tomorrow?” Elspeth asked.
“Tomorrow or the next day. Most of them will stay in these tents for a week or two, getting ready for the trip north, and we’ve also put up tents along the route. By rights, Isaac Barr should have been making all these arrangements.”
“How long to you think Mr. Barr will stay here?”
“My guess is that he’ll head right up to Battleford. That’s the only place between here and the colony, and it would make sense for him to set up headquarters there. Not that this enterprise runs on good sense! But I shouldn’t be here talking—I’ve work to do.”
After he left, Robbie burst into tears. “I’m cold,” he whimpered. “I don’t like it here.”
Robbie’s tear-stained face looked pinched and sallow. Elspeth hoped that it was jut the effect of the greenish light filtering though the canvas and not that he was going to be sick again. She unrolled the blankets and began to make up their bed.
“Do we have to go on the train again?” Robbie asked. “I don’t want to go on the train. Where’s Uncle Donald’s house?”
Elspeth folded the blanket in half, smoothing out the wrinkles. She couldn’t bear the thought of the train either. It would be empty this time, so Rob would be more bored than ever. She thought fleetingly that maybe they could get out in Winnipeg and look for Uncle Donald, but who would help them find him? Not the immigration people! A better plan might be to hide in Saskatoon—at least till the next train came. Maybe Matthew and the twins would help her or maybe she would see Mr. Barr.
The Journey of the Shadow Bairns Page 6
