CHAPTER SEVEN.
VIXEN DELIVERED AND WOLVES DEFEATED.
With much labour and skill had the Davidsons and McKays erected twotimber cottages side by side in the land of their adoption.
These two families were among the first band of settlers. They werevery different in character--one being Highland, the other LowlandScotch, but they were more or less united by sympathy, intermarriage,and long residence beside each other on the slopes of the GrampianHills, so that, on the voyage out, they made a compact that they shouldstick by each other, and strive, and work, and fight the battle of lifetogether in the new land.
All the members of the Davidson family were sterling, sedate, hearty,and thorough-going. Daniel and Peter were what men style "dependable"fellows, and bore strong resemblance to their father, who died almostimmediately after their arrival in the new country. Little Jessie waslike her mother, a sort of bottomless well of sympathy, into whichoceans of joy or sorrow might be poured without causing an overflow--except, perchance, at the eyelids--and out of which the waters ofconsolation might be pumped for evermore without pumping dry. The ideaof self never suggested itself in the presence of these two. Theconsequence was that everybody adored them. It was rather a selfishadoration, we fear, nevertheless it was extremely delightful--to theadorers, we mean--and doubtless not unpleasant to the adored.
The love of God, in Christ, was the foundation of their characters.
Of the McKay family we cannot speak so confidently. Elspie, indeed, wasall that could be desired, and Fergus was in all respects a sterlingman; but the head of the family was, as we have seen, open toimprovement in many respects, and Duncan junior was of thatheart-breaking character which is known as ne'er-do-weel. Possibly, ifdifferently treated by his father, he might have been a better man. Asit was, he was unprincipled and hasty of temper.
Little wonder that, when thrown together during a long voyage--to analmost unknown land--Elspie McKay and Daniel Davidson should fall intothat condition which is common to all mankind, and less wonder that,being a daring youth with a resolute will, Daniel should manage toinduce the pliant, loving Elspie, to plight her troth while they weregazing over the ship's side at the first iceberg they met. We may aswell hark back here a little, and very briefly sketch the incident. Itmay serve as a guide to others.
The two were standing--according to the report of the bo's'n, whowitnessed the whole affair--"abaft the main shrouds squintin' over theweather gangway." We are not quite sure of the exact words used by thatdiscreditable bo's'n, but these are something like them. It wasmoon-light and dead calm; therefore propitious, so far, to Daniel'sdesign--for Daniel undoubtedly had a design that night, obvious to hisown mind, and clearly defined like the great iceberg, though, like ittoo, somewhat hazy in detail.
"What a glorious, magnificent object!" exclaimed Elspie, gazing inwonder at the berg, the pinnacles of which rose considerably above themast-head.
"Yes, very glorious, very magnificent!" said Daniel, gazing into themaiden's eyes, and utterly regardless of the berg.
"I wonder how such a huge mass ever manages to melt," said Elspie--forthe human mind, even in pretty girls, is discursive.
"_I_ wonder it does not melt at once," said Dan, with pointed emphasis.
"What do you mean?" she asked, turning her eyes in considerableastonishment from the berg to the man.
"I mean," said he, "that under the influence of your eyes the icebergought to melt straight away. They have melted my heart, Elspie, and_That_ has been an iceberg, I find, till now."
He seized her hand. It had all come on so suddenly that poor Elspie wasquite unprepared for it. She turned as if to fly, but Daniel put hisarm round her waist and detained her.
"Elspie, dearest Elspie, it _must_ be settled now--or--." He wouldnot--could not--say "never."
"O Daniel, don't!" entreated Elspie.
But Daniel _did_.
"Bray-vo!" exclaimed the bo's'n with enthusiasm, for he was asympathetic man, though unprincipled in the matter of eavesdropping.
That cut it short. They retired precipitately from the weather gangwayabaft the main shrouds, and sought refuge in a sequestered nook near thecompanion-hatch, which was, in name as well as in every other way, muchmore suited to their circumstances. The steersman had his eye on themthere, but they fortunately did not know it.
Apologising for this reminiscence, we return to the thread of our story.
Mrs Davidson was seated at breakfast one morning, with all her familyaround her in Prairie Cottage. She had named it thus because, from oneof the windows, there was to be had a peep of the prairies lying beyondthe bushes by which it was surrounded.
Old McKay had named his cottage Ben Nevis, either because the countryaround was as flat as a pancake, or out of sheer contradictiousness.
"Have they found out anything more about the murder of that poor fellowPerrin?" asked Mrs Davidson. "More than four months have passed sinceit happened."
"Nothing more, mother," said Dan, who now filled his father's chair."As you say, four months have passed, and one would think that was timeenough to discover the murderer, but, you see, it is nobody's businessin particular, and we've no regular police, and everybody is far toobusy just now to think about it. In fact, not many people in theseparts care much about a murder, I fear."
"Ah if they went to see Perrin's old mother," said Jessie, "it wouldoblige them to care a great deal, for he was her only son."
"Ay, her only child!" added Mrs Davidson.
While she was yet speaking, it so happened that Duncan McKay juniorhimself entered the room, with that over-done free-and-easiness whichsometimes characterises a man who is ill at ease.
"Whose only child are you speaking about, Mrs Davidson?" he askedcarelessly.
"Mrs Perrin's," she replied, with a familiar nod to the visitor, whooften dropped in on them casually in this way.
The reply was so unexpected and sudden, that McKay could not avoid aslight start and a peculiar expression, in spite of his usualself-command. He glanced quickly at Dan and Peter, but they were busywith their food, and had apparently not noticed the guilty signs.
"Ah, poor thing," returned the youth, in his cynical and somewhat nasaltone, "it _iss_ hard on her. By the way, Dan, hev ye heard that thewolves hev killed two or three of McDermid's horses that had strayed outon the plains, and Elspie's mare Vixen iss out too. Some of us will begoing to seek for her. The day bein' warm an' the snow soft, we hev agood chance of killin' some o' the wolves. I thought Peter might liketo go too."
"So Peter does," said the youth, rising and brushing the crumbs off hisknees: "there's nothing I like better than to hunt down these sneaking,murderous brutes that are so ready to spring suddenly unawares on friendor foe."
Again Duncan McKay cast a quick inquiring glance at Peter, but the ladwas evidently innocent of any double meaning. It was only a movement,within the man-slayer, of that conscience which "makes cowards of usall."
"Louise!" shouted Dan, as he also rose from the table.
"Oui, monsieur," came, in polite deferential tones, from the culinarydepartment, and the little half-breed maiden appeared at the door.
"Did you mend that shot-bag last night?"
"Oui, monsieur."
"Fetch it here, then, please; and, Jessie, stir your stumps like a goodgirl, and get some food ready to take with us."
"Will you tell me the precise way in which good girls stir theirstumps?" asked Jessie; "for I'm not quite sure."
Dan answered with a laugh, and went out to saddle his horse, followed byhis brother and Duncan McKay.
"Rescuing seems to be the order of the day this year," remarked Peter,as they walked towards the stable behind the cottage. "We've had a gooddeal of rescuing men in the winter, and now we are goin' to rescuehorses."
"Rescuing is the grandest work that a fellow can undertake," said Dan,"whether it be the body from death or the soul from sin."
"What you say iss true--what
ever," remarked McKay, whose speech,although not so broad as that of his father, was tinged with similarcharacteristics. "It will be better to rescue than to kill."
This was so obvious a truism that his companions laughed, but Duncan haduttered it almost as a soliloquy, for he was thinking at the moment ofpoor Perrin, whose body had long since been brought to the Settlementand buried. Indeed thoughts of the murdered man were seldom out of hismind.
Meanwhile, far out on the lonesome and still snow-covered prairie thesteed which they were going to rescue stood on a low mound or undulationof the plain surrounded by wolves. It was a pitiful sight to see thenoble mare, almost worn-out with watching and defending herself, whilethe pack of those sneaking hounds of the wilderness sat or stood aroundher licking their chops and patiently biding their time.
They formed a lean, gaunt, savage-looking crew, as they sat there,calculating, apparently, how long their victim's strength would holdout, and when it would be safe to make a united and cowardly rush.
One wolf, more gaunt and rugged and grey than the others, with blacklips and red tongue and bloodshot eyes, moved about the circle uneasilyas if trying to screw up its craven spirit to the sticking point. Theothers evidently regarded this one as their leader, for they hung backfrom him a little, and kept a watchful eye on his movements. So didVixen, the mare. She kept her tail always turned towards him, lookingsavagely back at him with her great eyes glittering, her ears laid flat,and her heels ready.
Poor Vixen! Elspie had given her the name when in a facetious frame ofmind, as being descriptive of the very opposite of her character, forshe was gentle as a lamb, tender in the mouth, playful in her moods, andsensitive to a degree both in body and spirit. No curb was ever neededto restrain Vixen, nor spur to urge her on. A chirp sent an electricthrill through her handsome frame; a "Quiet, Vic!" sufficed to calm herto absolute docility. Any child could have reined her in, and she wentwith springy elasticity as though her limbs were made of vivified steeland indiarubber. But she was getting old, and somehow the wolves seemedto be aware of that melancholy fact. They would not have troubled herin the heyday of her youth!
An impatient howl from one of the pack seemed to insinuate that the greyold leader was a coward. So he was, but evidently he did not relishbeing told so, for he uncovered his glittering fangs and made a suddendash at the mare.
With a whisk of the tail worthy of her best days, she lashed out behindand planted both her pretty little feet on the ribs of the grey chiefwith such a portentous whack that he succumbed at once. With a gasp,and a long-drawn wail, he sank dead upon the snow; whereupon his amiablefriends--when quite sure of his demise--tore him limb from limb anddevoured him.
This was a fortunate respite for Vixen, most of whose remaining strengthand pluck had been thrown into that magnificent fling. Old Duncan, hadhe seen it, would probably have styled it a "goot Highland fling."
But the respite was not of long duration. Their leader formed but amouthful to each of the pack.
When done, they returned to encircle their victim again, lick theirchops, and wait.
Evening was drawing on, and a sort of grey desolation seemed to becreeping over the plains.
A decided thaw had been operating all that day, rendering the snow soft.If the mare had only known the advantage thus given to her, asuccessful effort at escape might have been made. When snow on theprairie is frozen with a hard crust on the surface, the light wolf canrun easily on the top of it, while the heavy horse breaks through atevery stride and is soon knocked up. The case is reversed when a thawsoftens the surface, for then the short-legged wolf flounders helplesslyin its depths, while the long-limbed and powerful horse can gallopthrough it with comparative ease. But the good mare, intelligent thoughshe was, did not consider this fact, and the wolves, you may be sure,did not enlighten her. Besides, by that time she was well-nighworn-out, and could not have made a vigorous run for life even over agood course.
Gradually, a worthy lieutenant of the old grey chief began to showsymptoms of impatience, and the hungry circle closed in. Vixen lookedup and whinnied slightly. It seemed a pitiful appeal for help from thehuman friends who had cared for her so well and so long. Perchance itwas the last wail of despair--a final farewell to the green fields andthe flowering plains of memory.
Whatever it was, an answer came in the form of several dark specks onthe horizon. Vixen saw them, and whinnied again in a decidedlydifferent tone. The wolves also saw them, and moved about uneasily.
On came the black specks, increasing in size as they drew near. Thewolves looked at each other inquiringly, moved still more uneasily,appeared to hold a consultation, and finally drew off to a neighbouringknoll, as if to await the result of this unlooked-for interruption, andreturn to business when it was past.
The intelligence of the lower animals is great--in some cases verygreat--but it does not amount to reason. If it did, those wolves wouldnot have sat there, in the pride of physical strength and personalfreedom, calmly awaiting their doom, while Daniel and Peter Davidson,Duncan McKay junior, Okematan the Cree Indian, another Indian namedKateegoose, and Jacques Bourassin, a half-breed, came thundering downtowards them like infuriated centaurs.
At last they seemed to realise the truth that "discretion is the betterpart of valour," and began to retire from the scene--slowly at first.
Vixen, recognising friends, trotted off with reviving strength, and ahigh head and tail to meet them. Seeing this, Dan, who led the party,drew rein so as to allow the steeds to recover breath before the finalburst.
The wolves, with that presumption which is usually found to be thehandmaid of ignorance, halted, and sat down again to watch the progressof events. Fatal self-confidence! They little knew the deep duplicityof man!
"O you stupid brutes!" murmured Dan to himself, advancing in a somewhatsidling manner as if he meant to pass them. They evidently believedthis to be his intention until they saw the six horsemen turn theirsteeds straight in their direction and charge them at full gallop with ayell that drove rapid conviction to their brains.
Then, with tails between legs and ears flat they fled. But it was toolate. The horses scattered the soft snow with comparative ease. Thewolves plunged through it with difficulty. First to overtake them wasPeter Davidson. He put the muzzle of his gun to the side of the greylieutenant, and shot him through the heart. His brother Dan, selectinganother of the pack, pointed at the ear and blew out its brains.Okematan, partial to the weapons of his forefathers, sent an arrowthrough the ribs of a third, while Kateegoose transfixed a fourth.Duncan McKay shot a fifth, and Bourassin knocked over a sixth atcomparatively long range, his horse being too poor or too tired to comefairly up with the pack.
There was no wasting of powder, shot, or shaft in this affair. Each manwas an expert with his weapon, and cool as the proverbial cucumber,though considerably excited. Loading as they ran, they fitted and shotagain, stretching six more of the enemy on the plain. Then they pulledup and suffered the rest to escape, being afraid to leave Vixen out ofsight behind them, for that happy creature, following and enjoying thesport as long as she could, found that her powers were too muchexhausted to permit of her keeping up with the chase.
"She's not fit to travel another mile," said Dan, stroking her glossyneck and allowing her to rub her nose affectionately on his shoulder.
"That iss true, whatever," assented Duncan. "I think we could not dobetter than camp on the nearest bluff."
This was agreed to by all. Provision for one meal, it will beremembered, had been prepared at Prairie Cottage in the morning. Ahunter's meal, when properly divided, makes two or three average meals,and a hunter's powers of endurance are proverbial. Each man had hisblanket strapped to his saddle. Branches of various kinds of trees makea good mattress, and the air of the prairie is well-known to conduce toappetite and slumber.
With such environment it is scarcely necessary to add that the huntersenjoyed themselves, and that Vixen had a restful night,
probably withouteven a dream about hungry wolves.
The Buffalo Runners: A Tale of the Red River Plains Page 7
