The Mistress of Bonaventure

"A little beast between a rat and a squirrel, which lives in a hole in the ground. There are supposed to be more of them round Gaspard's Trail than anywhere in Canada," answered the trooper, incautiously. "That's quite correct, Ormesby. You cannot contradict me."

I did not answer, but grew uneasy, seeing that he could not take a hint; and the girl continued: "Are they fond of swimming?"

"I don't think so," answered Cotton, with a slightly puzzled air; and then added, with an infantile attempt at humor, for which I longed to choke him: "I'm not a natural historian, but Ormesby ought to know. I found him not long ago in a very bad temper fishing dozens of dead ones out of his well. Perhaps they swam too long, and were too tired to climb out, you know."

Lucille Haldane, who had been thirsty, gave a little gasp and laid her hand on the cup Cotton would have passed on for replenishing. Her sister glanced at her with some surprise, and then quietly set down her own, while I grew hot all over and felt savagely satisfied by the way he winced that this time I had got my heel well down on Cotton's toe. Then there was an awkward silence until Haldane, leaning back in his chair, laughed boisterously when the lad, attempting to retrieve one blunder, committed another.

"I am afraid there are a good many at Bonaventure, and it is not Ormesby's fault, you see. It is almost impossible for anybody to keep them out of the wells in dry weather; but nobody minds a few gophers in this country."

Haldane had saved the situation; but his elder daughter filled no more teacups, and both my fair guests seemed to lose their appetite, while I was almost glad when the meal I had longed might last all night was over and Lucille and her father went out to inspect the cattle. I, however, detained Cotton, who was following them with alacrity.

"Your jokes will lead you into trouble some day, and it's a pity you couldn't have displayed your genius in any other direction," I said.

"You need not get so savage over a trifle," he answered apologetically. "I really didn't mean to upset things – it was an inspiration. No man with any taste could be held responsible for his answers when a girl with eyes like hers cross-questions him. You really ought to cultivate a better temper, Ormesby."

I let him go, and joined Beatrice Haldane, who had remained behind the rest. She did not seem to care about horses and cattle, and appeared grateful when I found her a snug resting-place beneath the strawpile granary.

"You are to be complimented, since you have realized at least part of your aspirations," she said, as she swept a glance round my possessions. "Is it fair to ask, are you satisfied with – this?"

I followed her eyes with a certain thrill of pride. Wheat land, many of the dusty cattle, broad stretch of prairie, barns, and buildings were mine, and the sinewy statuesque horsemen, who came up across the levels behind further bunches of dappled hide and tossing horns, moved at my bidding. By physical strain and mental anxiety I had steadily extended the boundaries of Gaspard's Trail, and, had I been free from Lane, would in one respect have been almost satisfied. Then I looked up at my companion, whose pale-tinted draperies and queenly head with its clustering dark locks were outlined against the golden straw, and a boldness, as well as a great longing, came upon me.

"It is a hard life, but a good one," I said. "There is no slackening of anxiety and little time for rest, but the result is encouraging. When I took hold, with a few hundred pounds capital, Gaspard's Trail was sod-built and its acreage less than half what it is at present; but this is only the beginning, and I am not content. Bad seasons do not last forever, and in spite of obstacles I hope the extension will continue until it is the largest holding on all this prairie; but even that consummation will be valuable only as the means to an end."

Beatrice Haldane looked at me with perfect composure. "Is it all worth while, and how long have you been so ambitious?" she asked, with a smile, the meaning of which I could not fathom.

"Since a summer spent in England showed me possibilities undreamed of before," I said; and while it is possible that the vibration in my voice betrayed me, the listener's face remained a mask. Beatrice Haldane was already a woman of experience.

"One might envy your singleness of purpose, but there are things which neither success nor money can buy," she said. "Probably you have no time to carefully analyze your motives, but it is not always wise to take too much for granted. Even if you secured all you believe prosperity could give you you might be disappointed. Wiser men have found themselves mistaken, Rancher Ormesby."

"You are right in the first case," I answered. "But in regard to the other, would not the effort be proof enough? Would any man spend the best years of his life striving for what he did not want?"

"Some have spent the whole of it, which was perhaps better than having the longer time for disappointment," answered the girl, with a curious smile. "But are we not drifting, as we have done before, into a profitless discussion of subjects neither of us knows much about? Besides, the sun is swinging farther west and the glare hurts my eyes, while father and Lucille appear interested yonder."

Beatrice Haldane always expressed herself quietly, but few men would have ventured to disregard her implied wishes, and I took the hint, fearing I had already said too much. Gaspard's Trail was not yet the finest homestead on the prairie, and the time to speak had not arrived. When we joined Haldane it was a somewhat stirring sight we looked upon. A draft of my own cattle came up towards the corral at a run, mounted men shouting as they cantered on each flank, while one, swinging a whip twice, raced at a gallop around the mass of tossing horns when the herd would have wheeled and broken away from the fence in a stampede. The earth vibrated to the beat of hoofs; human yells and a tumultuous bellowing came out of the dust; and I sighed with satisfaction when, cleverly turned by a rider, who would have lost his life had his horse's speed or his own nerve failed him, the beasts surged pell-mell into the enclosure. Much as I regretted to part with them, their sale should set me free of debt.

Then the flutter of a white dress caught my eye, and I saw Lucille Haldane, who, it seemed, had already pressed the foreman into her service, applauding when Thorn, cleverly roping a beast, reined in his horse, and, jerking it to a standstill, held it for her inspection. It no doubt pleased him to display his skill, but I saw it was with Thorn, as it had been with the sergeant, a privilege to interest the girl. She walked close up to the untamed creature, which, with heaving sides and spume dripping from its nostrils, seemed to glare less angrily at her, while Thorn appeared puzzled as he answered her rapid questions, and Haldane leaned on the rails with his face curiously tender as he watched her. Trooper Cotton, coming up, appropriated Miss Haldane with boyish assurance, and her father turned to me.

"My girl has almost run me off my feet, and now that she has taken possession of your foreman, I should be content to sit down to a quiet smoke," he said. "Will you walk back to the house with me?"

I could only agree, but I stopped on the way to speak to one of the men who had brought in the cattle. He was a struggling rancher, without enterprise or ability, and generally spoken of with semi-contemptuous pity. "I'm obliged to you, Redmond, for suggesting that you would take my draft along; but why didn't you come in and take supper with the rest? This sort of banquet strikes me as the reverse of neighborly," I said.

The man fidgeted as he glanced at the dirty handkerchief containing eatables beside him. "I figured you had quite enough without me, and I don't feel in much humor for company just now," he said. "This season has hit me mighty hard."

"Something more than the season has hit him," commented Haldane, as we proceeded. "If ever I saw a weak man badly ashamed of himself, that was one. You can't think of any underhand trick he might have played you lately?"

"No," I answered lightly. "He is a harmless creature, and has no possible reason for injuring me."

"Quite sure?" asked Haldane, with a glance over his shoulder as we entered the door. "I've seen men of his kind grow venomous when driven into a corner. However, it's cool and free from dust in here. Sit down and try this tobacco."

Haldane was said to be a shrewd judge of his fellowmen, but I could see no cause why Redmond should cherish a grudge against me, and knew he had spoken the truth when he said the seasons had hit him hardly. It was currently reported that he was heavily in debt, and the stock-rider had suggested that Lane was pressing him. When Haldane had lighted a cigar he took a roll of paper off the table and tossed it across to me, saying, "Is that your work, Ormesby?"

"No. I never saw it before," I answered, when a glance showed me that the paper contained a cleverly drawn map of our vicinity, and Haldane nodded.

"To tell the truth, I hardly expected it was. Some of your recent visitors must have dropped it, and as my daughter found it among the litter during the course of her improvements, and asked whether it should be preserved, I could not well help seeing what it was. Look at the thing again, and tell me what you conclude from it."

"That whoever made it had a good eye for the most valuable locations in this district," I answered, thoughtfully. "He has also shaded with the same tint part of my possessions in Crane Valley."

"Exactly!" and Haldane gazed intently into the blue cigar smoke. "Does it strike you that the man who made the map intended to acquire those locations, and that, considering the possible route of the railway, he showed a commendable judgment?"

"It certainly does so now," I answered; and Haldane favored me with a searching glance. "Then when you discover who it is, keep your eyes on him, and especially beware of giving him any hold on you."

I suspected that Lane had made the map, and it is a pity I did not take Haldane into my full confidence; but misguided pride forbade it, and we smoked in silence until the opportunity was lost, for he rose, saying: "No peace for the wicked; the girls are returning. Great heavens! I thought the child had broken her neck!"

While Thorn went round by the slip-rails, a slender, white-robed figure on a big gray horse sailed over the tall fence and came up towards the house at a gallop, followed by the startled foreman. Haldane, whose unshakable calm was famous in Eastern markets, quivered nervously, and I felt relieved that there had been no accident, for it was a daring leap. Then, while Cotton and Beatrice Haldane followed, Lucille came in flushed and exultant.

"We have had a delightful time, father, and you must leave me in charge of Bonaventure when you go East," she said. "But where did you get the lady's saddle, Mr. Ormesby?"

"It is not mine," I answered, smiling. "It belongs to my neighbor's sister, Sally Steel. She rode a horse over here for Thorn to doctor."

I regretted the explanation too late. Steel was a good neighbor, but common report stigmatized his sister as a reckless coquette, and by the momentary contraction of Beatrice Haldane's forehead I feared that she had heard the gossip. If this were so, however, she showed no other sign of it.

When a delicious coolness preceded the dusk it was suggested that Cotton should sing to us, and he did so, fingering an old banjo of mine with no mean skill. I managed to find a place by Beatrice Haldane's side, and when the pale moon came out and the air had the quality of snow-cooled wine, her sister sang in turn to the trooper's accompaniment. I remember only that it was a song free from weak sentimentality, with an heroic undertone; but it stirred me, and a murmur of voices rose from the shadows outside. Then Foreman Thorn stood broad hat in hand, in the doorway.

"If it wouldn't be a liberty, miss, the boys would take it as an honor if you would sing that, or something else, over again. They've never heard nothing like it, even down to Winnipeg," he said.

The girl blushed a little, and looked at me. "They were kind to me. Do you really think it would please them?" she asked.

"If it doesn't they will be abominably ungrateful; but although we are not conventional, the request strikes me as a liberty," I said, noticing that her sister did not seem wholly pleased.

"Tell them I will do my best," was the answer, and, after a conference with Cotton, Lucille Haldane walked towards the open door. There was no trace of vanity or self-consciousness in her bearing. It was pure kindliness which prompted her, and when she stood outside the building, with the star-strewn vault above her, and the prairie silver-gray at her feet, bareheaded, slight, and willowy in her thin white dress, it seemed small wonder that the dusty men who clustered about the wire fence swung down their broad hats to do her homage.

Perfect stillness succeeded, save for sounds made by the restless cattle; then the banjo tinkled, and a clear voice rang out through the soft transparency of the summer night: "All day long the reapers!"

There was a deep murmur when the last tinkle of the banjo sank into silence, a confused hum of thanks, and teamster and stock-rider melted away, and Lucille Haldane, returning, glanced almost apologetically at me.

"I just felt I had to please them," she said. "Even if you older people smile, I am proud of this great country, and it seems to me that these are the men who are making it what it will some day be. Don't you think that we who live idly in the cities owe a good deal to them?"

Haldane laid his hand caressingly on his daughter's arm. "Impulsive as ever – but perhaps you are right," he said. "In any case, it will be after midnight before we get home, and you might ask for our team, Ormesby."

Every man about Gaspard's Trail helped to haul up the wagon and harness the spirited team, while, in spite of Cotton's efforts, Thorn insisted on handing my youngest guest into the vehicle; and it was with some difficulty I exchanged parting civilities with the rest as the vehicle rolled away amid the stockmen's cheers.

CHAPTER VI

A HOLOCAUST

It was late one sultry night when I sat moodily beside an open window in my house at Gaspard's Trail. I had risen before the sun that morning, but, though tired with a long day's ride, I felt restless and ill-disposed to sleep. Thomas Steel, whose homestead stood some leagues away, lounged close by with his unlighted pipe on his knee and his coarse sun-faded shirt flung open showing his bronzed neck and the paler color of his ample chest. He was about my own age and possessed the frame of a gladiator, but there was limp dejection in his attitude.

"It's just awful weather, but there's a change at hand," he said. "It will be too late for some of us when it comes."