Black rock : a tale of the Selkirks

TMJfi UBKAK!

DIVERSITY OF CAOFO*N1A
LOS ANGELJW

B

LACK ROCK: a tale

of the Selkirks . . by
Ralph Connor

With an Introduction
by Professor George
Adam Smith, LL.D.

nt |jj

T 1>

New York : Chicago : Toronto

Fleming H. Revell Company

1899

INTRODUCTION

I THINK I have met " Ralph Connor.'* In-
deed, I am sure I have — once in a canoe
on the Red River, once on the Assinaboine,
and twice or thrice on the prairies to the
West. That was not the name he gave
me, but, if I am right, it covers one of
the most honest and genial of the strong
characters that are righting the devil and
doing good work for men all over the
world. He has seen with his own eyes
the life which he describes in this book,
and has himself, for some years of hard
and lonely toil, assisted in the good in-
fluences which he traces among its wild
and often hopeless conditions. He writes
with the freshness and accuracy of an
eye-witness, with the style (as I think his
readers will allow) of a real artist, and
with the tenderness and hopefulness of a
man not only of faith but of experience,

2046846

BLACK ROCK

who has seen in fulfilment the ideals for
which he lives.

The life to which he takes us, though
far off and very strange to our tame minds,
is the life of our brothers. Into the North-
West of Canada the young men of Great
Britain and Ireland have been pouring (I
was told), sometimes at the rate of 48,000
a year. Our brothers who left home
yesterday — our hearts cannot but follow
them. With these pages Ralph Connor
enables our eyes and our minds to follow,
too ; nor do I think there is anyone who
shall read this book and not find also that
his conscience is quickened. There is a
warfare appointed unto man upon earth,
and its struggles are nowhere more in-
tense, nor the victories of the strong, nor
the succors brought to the fallen, more
heroic, than on the fields described in
this volume.

GEORGE ADAM SMITH.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

PAQR
CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP, .... X

CHAPTER II
THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS, .... 2g

CHAPTER III

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT — HIS VICTORY, . 53

CHAPTER IV

MRS. MAVOR'S STORY, . . . ... 77

CHAPTER V

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE, ... . . . 97

CHAPTER VI

BLACK ROCK RELIGION, . . . . . . 1 19

BLACK ROCK v

CHAPTER VII

PAGE

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION, . . . 139

CHAPTER VIII

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE, .... I$9

CHAPTER IX
THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE, ...... 183

CHAPTER X

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN, 2O5

CHAPTER XI

THE TWO CALLS, 235

CHAPTER XII

LOVE IS NOT ALL 255

CHAPTER XIII

HOW NELSON CAME HOME, . . . . < 271

CHAPTER XIV
GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH, ...... 287

CHAPTER XV

COMING TO THEIR OWN 31!

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A
LUMBER CAMP

CHAPTER I

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP

IT was due to a mysterious dispensation of
Providence, and a good deal to Leslie Graeme,
that I found myself in the heart of the Selkirks
for my Christmas Eve as the year 1882 was
dying. It had been my plan to spend my
Christmas far away in Toronto, with such Bohe-
mian and boon companions as could be found
in that cosmopolitan and kindly city. But Leslie
Graeme changed all that, for, discovering me in
the village of Black Rock, with my traps all
packed, waiting for the stage to start for the
Landing, thirty miles away, he bore down upon
me with resistless force, and I found myself re-
covering from my surprise only after we had
gone in his lumber sleigh some six miles on our
way to his camp up in the mountains. I was
surprised and much delighted, though I would

* BLACK ROCK

not allow him to think so, to find that his old-
time power over me was still there. He could
always in the old 'Varsity days — dear, wild days
— make me do what he liked. He was so hand-
some and so reckless, brilliant in his class-work,
and the prince of half-backs on the Rugby field,
and with such power of fascination as would
' extract the heart out of a wheelbarrow/ as Barney
Lundy used to say. And thus it was that I
found myself just three weeks later — I was to
have spent two or three days, — on the afternoon
of the 24th of December, standing in Graeme's
Lumber Camp No. 2, wondering at myself. But
I did not regret my changed plans, for in those
three weeks I had raided a cinnamon bear's den

and had wakened up a grizzly But I shall

let the grizzly finish the tale ; he probably sees
more humour in it than I.

The camp stood in a little clearing, and con-
sisted of a group of three long, low shanties with
smaller shacks near them, all built of heavy, un-
hewn logs, with door and window in each. The
grub camp, with cook-shed attached, stood in the
middle of the clearing; at a little distance was the
sleeping-camp with the office built against it, and

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 3

about a hundred yards away on the other side of
the clearing stood the stables, and near them the
smiddy. The mountains rose grandly on every
side, throwing up their great peaks into the sky.
The clearing in which the camp stood was hewn
out of a dense pine forest that filled the valley
and climbed half way up the mountain -sides,
and then frayed out in scattered and stunted
trees.

It was one of those wonderful Canadian winter
days, bright, and with a touch of sharpness in the
air that did not chill, but warmed the blood like
draughts of wine. The men were up in the
woods, and the shrill scream of the blue jay flash-
ing across the open, the impudent chatter of the
red squirrel from the top of the grub camp, and
the pert chirp of the whisky-jack, hopping about
on the rubbish-heap, with the long, lone cry of the
wolf far down the valley, only made the silence
felt the more.

As I stood drinking in with all my soul the
glorious beauty and the silence of mountain and
forest, with the Christmas feeling stealing into me,
Graeme came out from his office, and, catching
sight of me, called out, 'Glorious Christmas

4 BLACK ROCK

weather, old chap!' And then, coming nearer,
' Must you go to-morrow ? '

' I fear so/ I replied, knowjng well that the
Christmas feeling was on him too.

' I wish I were going with you,' he said quietly.

I turned eagerly to persuade him, but at the
look of suffering in his face the words died at my
lips, for we both were thinking of the awful
night of horror when all his bright, brilliant life
crashed down about him in black ruin and shame.
I could only throw my arm over his shoulder
and stand silent beside him. A sudden jingle
of bells roused him, and, giving himself a little
shake, he exclaimed, ' There are the boys
coming home.'

Soon the camp was filled with men talking,
laughing, charring, like light-hearted boys.

' They are a little wild to-night,' said Graeme ;
1 and to - morrow they '11 paint Black Rock
red.'

Before many minutes had gone, the last teamster
was 'washed up,' and all were standing about
waiting impatiently for the cook's signal — the
supper to-night was to be ' something of a feed '
— when the sound of bells drew their attention

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 5

to a light sleigh drawn by a buckskin broncho
coming down the hillside at a great pace.

* The preacher, I '11 bet, by his driving/ said one
of the men.

'Bedad, and it's him has the foine nose for
turkey 1 ' said Blaney, a good-natured, jovial Irish-
man.

'Yes, or for pay-day, more like,' said Keefe,
a black-browed, villainous fellow-countryman of
Blaney's, and, strange to say, his great friend.

Big Sandy M'Naughton, a Canadian High-
lander from Glengarry, rose up in wrath. 'Bill
Keefe,' said he, with deliberate emphasis, ' you '11
just keep your dirty tongue off the minister ; and
as for your pay, it's little he sees of it, or any
one else, except Mike Slavin, when you're too
dry to wait for some one to treat you, or perhaps
Father Ryan, when the fear of hell-fire is on
to you.'

The men stood amazed at Sandy's sudden
anger and length of speech.

' Bon ; dat 's good for you, my bully boy/ said
Baptiste, a wiry little French-Canadian, Sandy's
sworn ally and devoted admirer ever since
the day when the big Scotsman, under great

6 BLACK ROCK

provocation, had knocked him clean off the dump
into the river and then jumped in for him.

It was not till afterwards I learned the cause
of Sandy's sudden wrath which urged him to
such unwonted length of speech. It was not
simply that the Presbyterian blood carried with
it reverence for the minister and contempt for
Papists and Fenians, but that he had a vivid
remembrance of how, only a month ago, the
minister had got him out of Mike Slavin's saloon
and out of the clutches of Keefe and Slavin and
their gang of bloodsuckers.

Keefe started up with a curse. Baptiste sprang
to Sandy's side, slapped him on the back, and
called out, 'You keel him, I'll hit (eat) him
up, me.'

It looked as if there might be a fight, when a
harsh voice said in a low, savage tone, ' Stop your
row, you blank fools ; settle it, if you want to,
somewhere else.' I turned, and was amazed to
see old man Nelson, who was very seldom moved
to speech.

There was a look of scorn on his hard, iron-
grey face, and of such settled fierceness as made
me quite believe the tales I had heard of his

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 7

deadly fights in the mines at the coast. Before
any reply could be made, the minister drove up
and called out in a cheery voice, ' Merry Christ-
mas, boys! Hello, Sandy! Comment c,a va,
Baptiste ? How do you do, Mr. Graeme ? '

' First rate. Let me introduce my friend, Mr.
Connor, sometime medical student, now artist,
hunter, and tramp at large, but not a bad sort*

' A man to be envied,' said the minister, smiling.
1 1 am glad to know any friend of Mr. Graeme's.'

I liked Mr. Craig from the first He had good
eyes that looked straight out at you, a clean-
cut, strong face well set on his shoulders, and
altogether an upstanding, manly bearing. He
insiste " on going with Sandy to the stables to
see Dandy, his broncho, put up.

'Decent feMow/ said Graeme; 'but though he
Is good enough to his broncho, it is Sandy that 's
in his mind now.'

'Does he come out often? mean, are you
part of his parish, so to speak ? '

' I have no doubt he thinks so ; and I 'm blowed
if he doesn't make the Presbyterians of us think
so too.' And he added after a pause, ' A dandy
lot of parishioners we are for any man. There's

8 BLACK ROCK

Sandy, now, he would knock Keefe's head off
as a kind of religious exercise ; but to-morrow
Keefe will be sober, and Sandy will be drunk as
a lord, and the drunker he is the better Presby-
terian he '11 be, to the preacher's disgust.' Then
after another pause he added bitterly, ' But it is
not for me to throw rocks at Sandy ; I am not
the same kind of fool, but I am a fool of several
other sorts.'

Then the cook came out and beat a tattoo
on the bottom of a dish-pan. Baptiste answered
with a yell : but though keenly hungry, no man
would demean himself to do other than walk with
apparent reluctance to his place at the table.
At the further end of the camp was a big
fireplace, and from the door to the fireplace
extended the long board tables, covered with
platters of turkey not too scientifically carved,
dishes of potatoes, bowls of apple sauce, plates of
butter, pies, and smaller dishes distributed at
regular intervals. Two lanterns hanging from
the roof, and a row of candles stuck into the wall
on either side by means of slit sticks, cast a dim,
weird light over the scene.

There was a moment's silence, and at a nod

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 9

from Graeme Mr. Craig rose and said, ' I don't
know how you feel about it, men, but to me this
looks good enough to be thankful for.'

1 Fire ahead, sir,' called out a voice quite respect-
fully, and the minister bent his head and said —

' For Christ the Lord who came to save us, for
all the love and goodness we have known, and for
these Thy gifts to us this Christmas night, our
Father, make us thankful. Amen.'

'Bon, dat's fuss rate,' said Baptiste. 'Seems
lak dat 's make me hit (eat) more better for sure,'
and then no word was spoken for quarter of an
hour. The occasion was far too solemn and
moments too precious for anything so empty as
words. But when the white piles of bread and
the brown piles of turkey had for a second time
vanished, and after the last pie had disappeared,
there came a pause and hush of expectancy,
whereupon the cook and cookee, each bearing
aloft a huge, blazing pudding, came forth.

' Hooray ! ' yelled Blaney, ' up wid yez ! ' and
grabbing the cook by the shoulders from behind,
he faced him about.

Mr. Craig was the first to respond, and seizing
the cookee in the same way, called out, ' Squad,

io BLACK ROCK

fall in ! quick march ! ' In a moment every man
was in the procession.

' Strike up, Batchees, ye little angel ! ' shouted
Blaney, the appellation a concession to the
minister's presence ; and away went Baptiste in a
rollicking French song with the English chorus —

* Then blow, ye winds, in the morning,

Blow, ye winds, ay oh 1
Blow, ye winds, in the morning,
Blow, blow, blow.'

And at each 'blow' every boot came down
with a thump on the plank floor that shook the
solid roof. After the second round, Mr. Craig
jumped upon the bench, and called out—

' Three cheers for Billy the cook ! '

In the silence following the cheers Baptiste
was heard to say, ' Bon ! dat 's mak me feel lak
hit dat puddin' all hup mesef, me.'

1 Hear till the little baste ! ' said Blaney in
disgust.

1 Batchees,' remonstrated Sandy gravely, ' ye Ve
more stomach than manners.'

' Fu sure ! but de more Stomach dat 's more
better for dis puddin',' replied the little French-
man cheerfully.

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP n

After a time the tables were cleared and pushed
back to the wall, and pipes were produced. In
all attitudes suggestive of comfort the men dis-
posed themselves in a wide circle about the fire,
which now roared and crackled up the great
wooden chimney hanging from the roof. The
lumberman's hour of bliss had arrived. Even old
man Nelson looked a shade less melancholy than
usual as he sat alone, well away from the fire,
smoking steadily and silently. When the second
pipes were well a-going, one of the men took
down a violin from the wall and handed it to
Lachlan Campbell. There were two brothers
Campbell just out from Argyll, typical High-
landers: Lachlan, dark, silent, melancholy, with
the face of a mystic, and Angus, red-haired, quick,
impulsive, and devoted to his brother, a devotion
he thought proper to cover under biting, sarcastic
speech.

Lachlan, after much protestation, interspersed
with gibes from his brother, took the violin, and,
in response to the call from all sides, struck up
' Lord Macdonald's Reel.' In a moment the
floor was filled with dancers, whooping and crack-
ing their fingers in th*» wildest manner. Then

i a BLACK ROCK

Baptiste did the ' Red River Jig,' a most intricate
and difficult series of steps, the men keeping time
to the music with hands and feet.

When the jig was finished, Sandy called for
1 Lochaber No More ' ; but Campbell said, ' No,
no ! I cannot play that to-night. Mr. Craig will
play.'

Craig took the violin, and at the first note I
knew he was no ordinary player. I did not
recognise the music, but it was soft and thrill-
ing, and got in by the heart, till every one was
thinking his tenderest and saddest thoughts.

After he had played two or three exquisite
bits, he gave Campbell his violin, saying, ' Now,
" Lochaber," Lachlan.'

Without a word Lachlan began, not 'Lochaber'
— he was not ready for that yet — but ' The
Flowers o' the Forest,' and from that wandered
through 'Auld Robin Gray' and 'The Land o'
the Leal,' and so got at last to that most soul-
subduing of Scottish laments, ' Lochaber No More.'
At the first strain, his brother, who had thrown
himself on some blankets behind the fire, turned
over on his face, feigning sleep. Sandy M'Naugh-
tOD took his pipe out of his mouth, and sat

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 13

up straight and stiff, staring into vacancy, and
Graeme, beyond the fire, drew a short, sharp
breath. We had often sat, Graeme and I, in
our student-days, in the drawing-room at home,
listening to his father wailing out 'Lochaber'
upon the pipes, and I well knew that the awful
minor strains were now eating their way into
his soul.

Over and over again the Highlander played
his lament. He had long since forgotten us, and
was seeing visions of the hills and lochs and glens
of his far-away native land, and making us, too,
see strange things out of the dim past I glanced
at old man Nelson, and was startled at the eager,
almost piteous, look in his eyes, and I wished
Campbell would stop. Mr. Craig caught my
eye, and, stepping over to Campbell, held
out his hand for the violin. Lingeringly
and lovingly the Highlander drew out the
last strain, and silently gave the minister his
instrument.

Without a moment's pause, and while the spell
of 'Lochaber' was still upon us, the minister,
with exquisite skill, fell into the refrain of that
simple and beautiful camp-meeting hymn, ' The

i4 BLACK ROCIL

Sweet By and By.' After playing the verse
through once, he sang softly the refrain. After
the first verse, the men joined in the chorus ; at
first timidly, but by the time the third verse was
reached they were shouting with throats full open,
' We shall meet on that beautiful shore.' When I
looked at Nelson the eager light had gone out of
his eyes, and in its place was a kind of determined
hopelessness, as if in this new music he had no
part

After the voices had ceased, Mr. Craig played
again the refrain, more and more softly and
slowly ; then laying the violin on Campbell's
knees, he drew from his pocket his little Bible,
and said —

' Men, with Mr. Graeme's permission, I want
to read you something this Christmas Eve. You
will all have heard it before, but you will like it
none the less for that*

His voice was soft, but clear and penetrating,
as he read the eternal story of the angels and the
shepherds and the Babe. And as he read, a
slight motion of the hand or a glance of an
eye made us see, as he was seeing, that whole
radiant drama. The wonder, the timid joy, the

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 15

tenderness, the mystery of it all, were borne in
upon us with overpowering effect. He closed the
book, and in the same low, clear voice went on
to tell us how, in his home years ago, he used
to stand on Christmas Eve listening in thrilling
delight to his mother telling him the story, and
how she used to make him see the shepherds
and hear the sheep bleating near by, and
how the sudden burst of glory used to make his
heart jump.

' I used to be a little afraid of the angels,
because a boy told me they were ghosts ; but my
mother told me better, and I didn't fear them
any more. And the Baby, the dear little Baby
— we all love a baby.' There was a quick, dry
sob ; it was from Nelson. ' I used to peek
through under to see the little one in the
straw, and wonder what things swaddling clothes
were. Oh, it was all so real and so beauti-
ful ! ' He paused, and I could hear the men
breathing.

'But one Christmas Eve/ he went on, in a
lower, sweeter tone, ' there was no one to tell me
the story, and I grew to forget it, and went away
to college, and learned to think that it was only

16 BLACK ROCK

a child's tale and was not for men. Then bad
days came to me and worse, and I began to lose
my grip of myself, of life, of hope, of goodness,
till one black Christmas, in the slums of a far-
away city, when I had given up all, and the
devil's arms were about me, I heard the story
again. And as I listened, with a bitter ache in
my heart, for I had put it all behind me, I
suddenly found myself peeking under the shep-
herds' arms with a child's wonder at the Baby
in the straw. Then it came over me like great
waves, that His name was Jesus, because it was
He that should save men from their sins. Save !
Save! The waves kept beating upon my ears,
and before I knew, I had called out, " Oh ! can
He save me ?" It was in a little mission meeting
on one of the side streets, and they seemed to be
used to that sort of thing there, for no one was
surprised ; and a young fellow leaned across the
aisle to me and said, "Why! you just bet He
can!" His surprise that I should doubt, his
bright face and confident tone, gave me hope
that perhaps it might be so. I held to that
hope with all my soul, and' — stretching up his
arms, and with a quick glow in his face and a

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 17

little break in his voice, ' He hasn't failed me
yet ; not once, not once ! '

He stopped quite short, and I felt a good deal
like making a fool of myself, for in those days 1
had not made up my mind about these things.
Graeme, poor old chap, was gazing at him with
a sad yearning in his dark eyes ; big Sandy was
sitting very stiff, and staring harder than ever
into the fire ; Baptiste was trembling with ex-
citement ; Blaney was openly wiping the tears
away. But the face that held my eyes was that
of old man Nelson. It was white, fierce, hungry-
looking, his sunken eyes burning, his lips parted
as if to cry.

The minister went on. ' I didn't mean to tell
you this, men, it all came over me with a rush •
but it is true, every word, and not a word will I
take back. And, what's more, I can tell you
this, what He did for me He can do for any
man, and it doesn't make any difference what 's
behind him, and ' — leaning slightly forward, and
with a little thrill of pathos vibrating in his voice
— 'O boys, why don't you give Him a chance
at you ? Without Him you '11 never be the men
you want to be, and you '11 never get the better

18 BLACK ROCK

of that that's keeping some of you now from
going back home. You know you '11 never go back
till you 're the men you want to be.' Then, lifting
up his face and throwing back his head, he said,
as if to himself, ' Jesus ! He shall save His
people from their sins,' and then, ' Let us pray.'

Graeme leaned forward with his face in his
hands; Baptiste and Blaney dropped on their
knees; Sandy, the Campbells, and some others,
stood up. Old man Nelson held his eyes steadily
on the minister.

Only once before had I seen that look on a
human face. A young fellow had broken through
the ice on the river at home, and as the black
water was dragging his fingers one by one from
the slippery edges, there came over his face that
same look. I used to wake up for many a night
after in a sweat of horror, seeing the white face
with its parting lips, and its piteous, dumb appeal,
and the black water slowly sucking it down.

Nelson's face brought it all back ; but during
the prayer the face changed, and seemed to settle
into resolve of some sort, stern, almost gloomy,
as of a man with his last chance before him.

After the prayer Mr. Craig invited the men to

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 19

a Christmas dinner next day in Black Rock.
1 And because you are an independent lot, we '11
charge you half a dollar for dinner and the eve-
ning show.' Then leaving a bundle of magazines
and illustrated papers on the table — a godsend
to the men — he said good-bye and went out

I was to go with the minister, so I jumped into
the sleigh first, and waited while he said good-bye
to Graeme, who had been hard hit by the whole
service, and seemed to want to say something.
I heard Mr. Craig say cheerfully and confidently,
'It's a true bill: try Him.'

Sandy, who had been steadying Dandy while
that interesting broncho was attempting with
great success to balance himself on his hind legs,
came to say good-bye. ' Come and see me first
thing, Sandy.'

'Ay! I know; I'll see ye, Mr. Craig/ said
Sandy earnestly, as Dandy dashed off at a full
gallop across the clearing and over the bridge,
steadying down when he reached the hill

' Steady, you idiot 1 '

This was to Dandy, who had taken a sudden
side spring into the deep snow, almost upsetting
us. A man stepped out from the shadow. It

ao BLACK ROCK

was old man Nelson. He came straight to the
sleigh, and, ignoring my presence completely,
said —

'Mr. Craig, are you dead sure of this? Will
it work ? '

'Do you mean,' said Craig, taking him up
promptly, 'can Jesus Christ save you from your
sins and make a man of you ? '

The old man nodded, keeping his hungry eyes
on the other's face.

* Well, here 's His message to you : " The Son
of Man is come to seek and to save that which
was lost." '

' To me ? To me ? ' said the old man eagerly.

1 Listen ; this, too, is His Word : " Him that
cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out."
That 's for you, for here you are, coming.'

'You don't know me, Mr. Craig. I left my
baby fifteen years ago because '

'Stop!' said the minister. 'Don't tell me, at
least not to-night ; perhaps never. Tell Him who
knows it all now, and who never betrays a secret.
Have it out with Him. Don't be afraid to trust
Him.'

Nelson looked at him, with his face quivering,

CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LUMBER CAMP 21

and said in a husky voice, 'If this is no good,
It 'shell for me/

' If it is no good/ replied Craig, almost sternly,
'it 'shell for all of us.'

The old man straightened himself up, looked
up at the stars, then back at Mr. Craig, then at
me, and, drawing a deep breath, said, ' I '11 try
Him.' As he was turning away the minister
touched him on the arm, and said quietly, ' Keep
an eye on Sandy to-morrow.'

Nelson nodded, and we went on ; but before
we took the next turn I looked back and saw
what brought a lump into my throat. It was old
man Nelson on his knees in the snow, with his
hands spread upward to the stars, and I won-
dered if there was any One above the stars, and
nearer than the stars, who could see. And then
the trees hid him from my sight

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS

CHAPTER II

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS

MANY strange Christmas Days have I seen, but
that wild Black Rock Christmas stands out
strangest of all. While I was revelling in
my delicious second morning sleep, just awake
enough to enjoy it, Mr. Craig came abruptly,
announcing breakfast and adding, 'Hope you
are in good shape, for we have our work before
us this day.'

' Hello ! ' I replied, still half asleep, and anxious
to hide from the minister that I was trying to
gain a few more moments of snoozing delight,
1 what 's abroad ? '

' The devil,' he answered shortly, and with
such emphasis that I sat bolt upright, looking
anxiously about.

' Oh ! no need for alarm. He 's not after you
particularly — at least not to-day,' said Craig, with

*6 BLACK ROCK

a shadow of a smile. ' But he is going about in
good style, I can tell you.1

By this time I was quite awake. ' Well, what
particular style does His Majesty affect this
morning?'

He pulled out a showbill. 'Peculiarly gaudy
and effective, is it not?'

The items announced were sufficiently attrac-
tive. The 'Frisco Opera Company were to pro-
duce the ' screaming farce,' ' The Gay and Giddy
Dude'; after which there was to be a 'Grand Ball,'
during which the ' Kalifornia Female Kickers '
were to do some fancy figures; the whole to
be followed by a 'big supper' with 'two free
drinks to every man and one to the lady,' and
all for the insignificant sum of two dollars.

' Can't you go one better ? ' I said.

He looked inquiringly and a little disgustedly
at me.

'What can you do against free drinks and a
dance, not to speak of the " High Kickers " ? ' he
groaned.

1 No ! ' he continued ; ' it's a clean beat for us to-
day. The miners and lumbermen will have in their
pockets ten thousand dollars, and every dollar

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS «7

burning a hole; and Slavin and his gang will
get most of it. But/ he added, ' you must have
breakfast. You'll find a tub in the kitchen ; don't be
afraid to splash. It is the best I have to offer you.'

The tub sounded inviting, and before many
minutes had passed I was in a delightful glow, the
effect of cold water and a rough towel, and that
consciousness of virtue that comes to a man who
has had courage to face his cold bath on a winter
morning.

The breakfast was laid with fine taste. A
diminutive pine-tree, in a pot hung round with
wintergreen, stood in the centre of the table.

1 Well, now, this looks good ; porridge, beef-
steak, potatoes, toast, and marmalade.'

' I hope you will enjoy it all.'

There was not much talk over our meal. Mr.
Craig was evidently preoccupied, and as blue as
his politeness would allow him. Slavin's victory
weighed upon his spirits. Finally he burst out,
1 Look here ! I can't, I won't stand it ; something
must be done. Last Christmas this town was for
two weeks, as one of the miners said, "a little
suburb of hell." It was something too awful.
And at the end of it all one young fellow was

28 BLACK ROCK

found dead in his shack, and twenty or more
crawled back to the camps, leaving their three
months' pay with Slavin and his suckers.

' I won't stand it, I say.' He turned fiercely on
me. ' What 's to be done ? '

This rather took me aback, for I had troubled
myself with nothing of this sort in my life before,
being fully occupied in keeping myself out of diffi-
culty, and allowing others the same privilege.
So I ventured the consolation that he had done
his part, and that a spree more or less would not
make much difference to these men. But the
next moment I wished I had been slower in
speech, for he swiftly faced me, and his words
came like a torrent.

' God forgive you that heartless word ! Do you

know ? But no ; you don't know what you

are saying. You don't know that these men have
been clambering for dear life out of a fearful pit
for three months past, and doing good climbing
too, poor chaps. You don't think that some o
them have wives, most of them mothers arxl
sisters, in the east or across the sea, for whose sake
they are slaving here ; the miners hoping tr save
enough to bring their families to this hoaieless

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 29

place, the rest to make enough to go back with
credit. Why, there's Nixon, miner, splendid
chap ; has been here for two years, and drawing
the highest pay. Twice he has been in sight of
his heaven, for he can't speak of his wife and
babies without breaking up, and twice that slick
son of the devil — that's Scripture, mind you —
Slavin, got him, and "rolled" him, as the boys
say. He went back to the mines broken in body
and in heart. He says this is his third and last
chance. If Slavin gets him, his wife and babies
will never see him on earth or in heaven. There
is Sandy, too, and the rest. And/ he added, in a
lower tone, and with the curious little thrill of
pathos in his voice, ' this is the day the Saviour
came to the world.' He paused, and then with
a little sad smile, 'But I don't want to abuse
you.'

' Do, I enjoy it, I 'm a beast, a selfish beast ' ;
for somehow his intense, blazing earnestness made
me feel uncomfortably small.

1 What have we to offer ? ' I demanded.

' Wait till I have got these things cleared away,
and my housekeeping done.'

I pressed my services upon him, somewhat

3© BLACK ROCK

feebly, I own, for I can't bear dishwater ; but he
rejected my offer.

' I don't like trusting my china to the hands of
a tender-foot'

'Quite right, though your china would prove
an excellent means of defence at long range.' It
was delf, a quarter of an inch thick. So I smoked
while he washed up, swept, dusted, and arranged
the room.

After the room was ordered to his taste, we
proceeded to hold council. He could offer dinner,
magic lantern, music. ' We can fill in time for
two hours, but,' he added gloomily, ' we can't beat
the dance and the " High Kickers." '

' Have you nothing new or startling ? '

He shook his head.

'No kind of show? Dog show? Snake
charmer ? '

' Slavin has a monopoly of the snakes/

Then he added hesitatingly, ' There was an old
Punch-and-Judy chap here last year, but he died.
Whisky again.'

' What happened to his show ? '

' The Black Rock Hotel man took it for board
and whisky bill. He has it still, I suppose.'

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 31

I did not much relish the business ; but I hated
to see him beaten, so I ventured, ' I have run
a Punch and Judy in an amateur way at the
'Varsity.'

He sprang to his feet with a yell.

1 You have ! you mean to say it ? We Ve got
them ! We Ve beaten them ! ' He had an ex-
traordinary way of taking your help for granted.
' The miner chaps, mostly English and Welsh,
went mad over the poor old showman, and made
him so wealthy that in sheer gratitude he drank
himself to death.'

He walked up and down in high excitement
and in such evident delight that I felt pledged to
my best effort

1 Well,' I said, ' first the poster. We must beat
them in that'

He brought me large sheets of brown paper,
and after two hours' hard work I had half a dozen
pictorial showbills done in gorgeous colours and
striking designs. They were good, if I do say it
myself.

The turkey, the magic lantern, the Punch and
Judy show were all there, the last with a crowd
before it in gaping delight A few explanatory

3» BLACK ROCK

words were thrown in, emphasising the highly
artistic nature of the Punch and Judy entertain-
ment.

Craig was delighted, and proceeded to perfect
his plans. He had some half a dozen young men,
four young ladies, and eight or ten matrons, upon
whom he could depend for help. These he
organised into a vigilance committee charged
with the duty of preventing miners and lumber-
men from getting away to Slavin's. ' The critical
moments will be immediately before and after
dinner, and then again after the show is over,' he
explained. ' The first two crises must be left to
the care of Punch and Judy, and as for the last,
I am not yet sure what shall be done ' ; but I saw
he had something in his head, for he added, ' I
shall see Mrs. Mavor.'

' Who is Mrs. Mavor ? ' I asked. But he made
no reply. He was a born fighter, and he put the
fighting spirit into us all. We were bound to win.

The sports were to begin at two o'clock. By
lunch-time everything was in readiness. After
lunch I was having a quiet smoke in Craig's shack
when in he rushed, saying —

'The battle will be lost before it is fought If

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 33

we lose Quatre Bras, we shall never get to
Waterloo.'

'What 'sup?'

' Slavin, just now. The miners are coming in,
and he will have them in tow in half an hour.'

He looked at me appealingly. I knew what he
wanted.

' All right ; I suppose I must, but it is an awful
bore that a man can't have a quiet smoke.'

'You're not half a bad fellow,' he replied,
smiling. ' I shall get the ladies to furnish coffee
inside the booth. You furnish them intellectual
nourishment in front with dear old Punch and
Judy.'

He sent a boy with a bell round the village
announcing, ' Punch and Judy in front of the
Christmas booth beside the church ' ; and for three-
quarters of an hour I shrieked and sweated in that
awful little pen. But it was almost worth it to
hear the shouts of approval and laughter that
greeted my performance. It was cold work
standing about, so that the crowd was quite ready
to respond when Punch, after being duly hanged,
came forward and invited all into the booth for
the hot coffee which Judy had ordered.

34 BLACK ROCK

In they trooped, and Quatre Bras was won.

No sooner were the miners safely engaged with
their coffee than I heard a great noise of bells
and of men shouting ; and on reaching the street
I saw that the men from the lumber camp were
coming in. Two immense sleighs, decorated with
ribbons and spruce boughs, each drawn by a four-
horse team gaily adorned, filled with some fifty
men, singing and shouting with all their might,
were coming down the hill road at full gallop.
Round the corner they swung, dashed at full speed
across the bridge and down the street, and pulled
up after they had made the circuit of a block,
to the great admiration of the onlookers. Among
others Slavin sauntered up good-naturedly, making
himself agreeable to Sandy and those who were
helping to unhitch his team.

' Oh, you need not take trouble with me or my
team, Mike Slavin. Batchees and me and the
boys can look after them fine,' said Sandy coolly.

This rejecting of hospitality was perfectly under-
stood by Slavin and by all.

' Dat 's too bad, heh ? ' said Baptiste wickedly ;
* and, Sandy, he 's got good money on his pocket
for sure, too.' The boys laughed, and Slavin,

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 35

Joining in, turned away with Keefe and Blaney ;
but by the look in his eye I knew he was playing
' Br'er Rabbit/ and lying low.

Mr. Craig just then came up, ' Hello, boys ! too
late for Punch and Judy, but just in time for hot
coffee and doughnuts.'

1 Bon ; dat 's fuss rate/ said Baptiste heartily ;
where you keep him ? '

'Up in the tent next the church there. The
miners are all in.'

' Ah, dat so ? Dat 's bad news for the shanty-
men, heh, Sandy?' said the little Frenchman
dolefully.

1 There was a clothes-basket full of doughnuts
and a boiler of coffee left as I passed just now/
said Craig encouragingly.

1 Aliens, mes gardens ; vite ! never say keel 1 '
cried Baptiste excitedly, stripping off the harness.

But Sandy would not leave the horses till
they were carefully rubbed down, blanketed,
and fed, for he was entered for the four-horse
race and it behoved him to do his best to win.
Besides, he scorned to hurry himself for anything
so unimportant as eating; that he considered
hardly worthy even of Baptiste. Mr. Craig

36 BLACK ROCK

managed to get a word with him before he wei.t
off, and I saw Sandy solemnly and emphatically
shake his head, saying, 'Ah! we'll beat him
this day/ and I gathered that he was added to
the vigilance committee.

Old man Nelson was busy with his own team.
He turned slowly at Mr. Craig's greeting, ' How
is it, Nelson ? ' and it was with a very grave voice
he answered, ' I hardly know, sir ; but I am not
gone yet, though it seems little to hold to.'

' All you want for a grip is what your hand can
cover. What would you have? And besides,
do you know why you are not gone yet ? '

The old man waited, looking at the minister
gravely.

' Because He hasn't let go His grip of you.'

' How do you know He 's gripped me ? '

' Now, look here, Nelson, do you want to quit
this thing and give it all up ? '

'No, no! For Heaven's sake, no! Why, do
you think I have lost it?' said Nelson, almost
piteously.

1 Well, He 's keener about it than you ; and I '11
bet you haven't thought it worth while to thank
Him.'

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 37

1 To thank Him,' he repeated, almost stupidly,
'for •

'For keeping you where you are overnight/
said Mr. Craig, almost sternly.

The old man gazed at the minister, a light
growing in his eyes.

' You 're right. Thank God, you 're right'
And then he turned quickly away, and went into
the stable behind his team. It was a minute
before he came out Over his face there was a
trembling joy.

1 Can I do anything for you to-day ? ' he asked
humbly.

* Indeed you just can/ said the minister, taking
his hand and shaking it very warmly ; and then
he told him Slavin's programme and ours.

'Sandy is all right till after his race. After
that is his time of danger/ said the minister.

' I '11 stay with him, sir/ said old Nelson, in the
tone of a man taking a covenant, and immediately
set off for the coffee-tent

'Here comes another recruit for your corps/
1 said, pointing to Leslie Graeme, who was coming
down the street at that moment in his light
sleigh.

38 BLACK ROCK

' I am not so sure. Do you think you could
get him ? '

I laughed. ' You are a good one.'

'Well,' he replied, half defiantly, 'is not this
your fight too ? '

'You make me think so, though I am bound
to say I hardly recognise myself to-day. But
here goes,' and before I knew it I was describing
our plans to Graeme, growing more and more
enthusiastic as he sat in his sleigh, listening with
a quizzical smile I didn't quite like.

' He 's got you too,' he said ; ' I feared so.'

' Well,' I laughed, ' perhaps so. But I want to
lick that man Slavin. I 've just seen him, and
he's just what Craig calls him, "a slick son of
the devil." Don't be shocked ; he says it is
Scripture.'

'Revised version,' said Graeme gravely, while
Craig looked a little abashed.

' What is assigned me, Mr. Craig ? for I know
that this man is simply your agent1

I repudiated the idea, while Mr. Craig said
nothing.

' What 's my part ? ' demanded Graeme.

1 Well,' said Mr. Craig hesitatingly, ' of course

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 39

I would do nothing till I had consulted you ; but
I want a man to take my place at the sports. I
am referee.'

' That 's all right,' said Graeme, with an air of
relief; 'I expected something hard.'

'And then I thought you would not mind
presiding at dinner — I want it to go off well.'

' Did you notice that ? ' said Graeme to me.
' Not a bad touch, eh ? '

'That's nothing to the way he touched me.
Wait and learn,' I answered, while Craig looked
quite distressed. 'He'll do it, Mr. Craig, never
fear,' I said, ' and any other little duty that may
occur to you.'

'Now that's too bad of you. That is all I
want, honour bright/ he replied ; adding, as he
turned away, 'you are just in time for a cup of
coffee, Mr. Graeme. Now I must see Mrs.
Mavor.'

' Who is Mrs. Mavor ? ' I demanded of Graeme.

' Mrs. Mavor ? The miners' guardian angel.'

We put up the horses and se-t off for coffee. As
we approached the booth Graeme caught sight of
the Punch and Judy show, stood still in amaze-
ment, and exclaimed, ' Can the dead live?'

40 BLACK ROCK

1 Punch and Judy never die,' I replied solemnly.

' But the old manipulator is dead enough, poor
old beggar ! '

1 But he left his mantle, as you see.'

He looked at me a moment

' What ! do you mean, you ? '

' Yes, that is exactly what I do mean.'

' He is a great man, that Craig fellow — a tt*iy
great man.'

And then he leaned up against a tree and
laughed till the tears came. ' I say, old boy,
don't mind me,' he gasped, ' but do you remember
the old 'Varsity show ? '

' Yes, you villain ; and I remember your part in
it. I wonder how you can, even at this remote
date, laugh at it.' For I had a vivid recollection
of how after a 'chaste and highly artistic per-
formance of this mediaeval play ' had been given
before a distinguished Toronto audience, the
trap door by which I had entered my box was
fastened, and I was left to swelter in my cage,
and forced to listen to the suffocated laughter
from the wings and the stage whispers of ' Hello,
Mr. Punch, where 's the baby ? ' And for many
a day after I was subjected to anxious ino nines

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 41

as to the locality and health of ' the baby/ and
whether it was able to be out.

' Oh, the dear old days ! ' he kept saying, over
and over, in a tone so full of sadness that my
heart grew sore for him and I forgave him, as
many a time before.

The sports passed off in typical Western style.
In addition to the usual running and leaping
contests, there was rifle and pistol shooting, in
both of which old man Nelson stood first, with
Shaw, foreman of the mines, second.

The great event of the day, however, was to be
the four-horse race, for which three teams were
entered — one from the mines driven by Nixon,
Craig's friend, a citizens' team, and Sandy's. The
race was really between the miners' team, and
that from the woods, for the citizens' team, though
made up of speedy horses, had not been driven
much together, and knew neither their driver nor
each other. In the miners' team were four bays,
very powerful, a trifle heavy perhaps, but well
matched, perfectly trained, and perfectly handled
by their driver. Sandy had his long rangy roans,
and for leaders a pair of half-broken pinto
bronchos. The pintos, caught the summer before

4* BLACK ROCK

upon the Alberta prairies, were fleet as deer, but
wicked and uncertain. They were Baptiste's
special care and pride. If they would only run
straight there was little doubt that they would
carry the roans and themselves to glory ; but one
could not tell the moment they might bolt or
kick things to pieces.

Being the only non-partisan in the crowd I was
asked to referee. The race was about half a mile
and return, the first and last quarters being upon
the ice. The course, after leaving the ice, led up
from the river by a long easy slope to the level
above ; and at the further end curved somewhat
sharply round the Old Fort The only condition
attaching to the race was that the teams should
start from the scratch, make the turn of the
Fort, and finish at the scratch. There were no
vexing regulations as to fouls. The man making
the foul would find it necessary to reckon with
the crowd, which was considered sufficient
guarantee for a fair and square race. Owing to
the hazards of the course, the result would depend
upon the skill of the drivers quite as much as
upon the speed of the teams. The points of
hazard were at the turn round the Old Fort, and

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 43

at a little ravine which led down to the river, over
which the road passed by means of a long log
bridge or causeway.

From a point upon the high bank of the river
the whole course lay in open view. It was a
scene full of life and vividly picturesque. There
were miners in dark clothes and peak caps;
citizens in ordinary garb ; ranchmen in wide
cowboy hats and buckskin shirts and leggings,
some with cartridge-belts and pistols; a few
half-breeds and Indians in half-native, half-
civilised dress ; and scattering through the crowd
the lumbermen with gay scarlet and blue blanket
coats, and some with knitted tuques of the same
colours. A very good-natured but extremely
uncertain crowd it was. At the head of each
horse stood a man, but at the pintos' heads
Baptiste stood alone, trying to hold down the off
leader, thrown into a frenzy of fear by the yelling
of the crowd.

Gradually all became quiet, till, in the midst
of absolute stillness, came the words, 'Are you
ready ? ', then the pistol-shot and the great race
had begun. Above the roar of the crowd came
the shrill cry of Baptiste, as he struck his

44 BLACK ROCK

broncho with the palm of his hand, and swung
himself into the sleigh beside Sandy, as it shot
past.

Like a flash the bronchos sprang to the front,
two lengths before the other teams ; but, terrified
by the yelling of the crowd, instead of bending
to the left bank up which the road wound, they
wheeled to the right and were almost across the
river before Sandy could swing them back into
the course.

Baptiste's cries, a curious mixture of French
and English, continued to strike through all other
sounds till they gained the top of the slope to
find the others almost a hundred yards in front,
the citizens' team leading, with the miners' follow-
ing close. The moment th« pintos caught sight
of the teams before them they set off at a terrific
pace and steadily devoured the intervening space.
Nearer and nearer the turn came, the eight horses
in front, running straight and well within their
speed. After them flew the pintos, running
savagely with ears set back, leading well the big
roans, thundering along and gaining at every
bound. And now the citizens' team had almost
reached the Fort, running hard, and drawing

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 45

away from the bays. But Nixon knew what he
was about, and was simply steadying his team
for the turn. The event proved his wisdom, for
in the turn the leading team left the track, lost
a moment or two in the deep snow, and before
they could regain the road the bays had swept
superbly past, leaving their rivals to follow in
the rear. On came the pintos, swiftly nearing
the Fort. Surely at that pace they cannot make
the turn. But Sandy knows his leaders. They
have their eyes upon the teams in front, and
need no touch of rein. Without the slightest
change in speed the nimble-footed bronchos round
the turn, hauling the big roans after them, and
fall in behind the citizens' team, which is regain-
ing steadily the ground lost in the turn.

And now the struggle is for the bridge over
the ravine. The bays in front, running with
mouths wide open, are evidently doing their best ;
behind them, and every moment nearing them,
but at the limit of their speed too, come the
lighter and fleeter citizens' team ; while opposite
their driver are the pintos, pulling hard, eager
and fresh. Their temper is too uncertain to send
them to the front; they run well following, but

46 BLACK ROCK

when leading cannot be trusted, and besides, a
broncho hates a bridge; so Sandy holds them
where they are, waiting and hoping for his chance
after the bridge is crossed. Foot by foot the
citizens' team creep up upon the flank of the bays,
with the pintos in turn hugging them closely,
till it seems as if the three, if none slackens, must
strike the bridge together; and this will mean
destruction to one at least. This danger Sandy
perceives, but he dare not check his leaders. Sud-
denly, within a few yards of the bridge, Baptiste
throws himself upon the lines, wrenches them out
of Sandy's hands, and, with a quick swing, faces
the pintos down the steep side of the ravine,
which is almost sheer ice with a thin coat of
snow. It is a daring course to take, for the
ravine, though not deep, is full of undergrowth,
and is partially closed up by a brush heap at the
further end. But, with a yell, Baptiste hurls his
four horses down the slope, and into the under-
growth. 'Allons, mes enfants! Courage! vite,
vite ! ' cries their driver, and nobly do the pintos
respond. Regardless of bushes and brush heaps,
they tear their way throu jh ; but, as they emerge,
the hind bob-sleigh catches a root, and, with a

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 47

crash, the sleigh is hurled high in the air.
Baptiste's cries ring out high and shrill as ever,
encouraging his team, and never cease till, with
a plunge and a scramble, they clear the brush
heap lying at the mouth of the ravine, and are
out on the ice on the river, with Baptiste stand-
ing on the front bob, the box trailing behind, and
Sandy nowhere to be seen.

Three hundred yards of the course remain.
The bays, perfectly handled, have gained at the
bridge and in the descent to the ice, and are
leading the citizens' team by half a dozen sleigh
lengths. Behind both comes Baptiste. It is now
or never for the pintos. The rattle of the trailing
box, together with the wild yelling of the crowd
rushing down the bank, excites the bronchos to
madness, and, taking the bits in their teeth, they
do their first free running that day. Past the
citizens' team like a whirlwind they dash, clear
the intervening space, and gain the flanks of the
bays. Can the bays hold them? Over them
leans their driver, plying for the first time the
hissing lash.' Only fifty yards more. The miners
begin to yell. But Baptiste, waving his lines high
in one hand, seizes his tuque with the other,

48 BLACK ROCK

whirls it about his head and flings it with a
fiercer yell than ever at the bronchos. Like the
bursting of a hurricane the pintos leap forward,
and with a splendid rush cross the scratch, winners
by their own length.

There was a wild quarter of an hour. The
shantymen had torn off their coats and were
waving them wildly and tossing them high, while
the ranchers added to the uproar by emptying
their revolvers into the air in a way that made
one nervous.

When the crowd was somewhat quieted Sandy's
stiff figure appeared, slowly making towards them.
A dozen lumbermen ran to him, eagerly inquiring
if he were hurt. But Sandy could only curse the
little Frenchman for losing the race.

' Lost ! Why, man, we 've won it ! ' shouted a
voice, at which Sandy's rage vanished, and he
allowed himself to be carried in.upon the shoulders
of his admirers.

' Where 's the lad ? ' was his first question.
The bronchos are off with him. He 's down
at the rapids like enough.'

'Let me go,' shouted Sandy, setting off at a
run in the track of the sleigh. He had not eone

THE BLACK ROCK CHRISTMAS 49

far before he met Baptiste coming back with his
team foaming, the roans going quietly, but the
bronchos dancing, and eager to be at it again.

' Voila ! bully boy ! tank the bon Dieu, Sandy ;
you not keel, heh? Ah! you are one grand
chevalier,' exclaimed Baptiste, hauling Sandy in
and thrusting the lines into his hands. And so
they came back, the sleigh box still dragging
behind, the pintos executing fantastic figures on
their hind legs, and Sandy holding them down.
The little Frenchman struck a dramatic attitude
and called out —

• Voila ! What 's the matter wiz Sandy, heh ? '
The roar that answered set the bronchos off
again plunging and kicking, and only when
Baptiste got them by the heads could they be
induced to stand long enough to allow Sandy
to be proclaimed winner of the race. Several of
the lumbermen sprang into the sleigh box with
Sandy and Baptiste, among them Keefe, followed
by Nelson, and the first part of the great day
was over. Slavin could not understand the new
order of things. That a great event like the four-
horse race should not be followed by ' drinks all
round ' was to him at once disgusting and incom-

50. BLACK ROCK

prehensible; and, realising his defeat for the
moment, he fell into the crowd and disappeared.
But he left behind him his 'runners.' He had
not yet thrown up the game.

Mr. Craig meantime came to me, and, looking
anxiously after Sandy in his sleigh, with his
frantic crowd of yelling admirers, said in a gloomy
voice, 'Poor Sandy! He is easily caught, and
Keefe has the devil's cunning.'

'He won't touch Slavin's whisky to-day/ I
answered confidently.

' There '11 be twenty bottles waiting him in the
stable,' he replied bitterly, ' and I can't go follow-
ing him up.'

' He won't stand that, no man would. God
help us all.' I could hardly recognise myself, for
I found in my heart an earnest echo to that
prayer as I watched him go toward the crowd
again, his face set in strong determination. He
looked like the captain of a forlorn hope, and I
was proud to be following him.

WATERLOO
OUR FIGHT—HIS VICTORY

CHAPTER III

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY

THE sports were over, and there remained still
an hour to be filled in before dinner. It was an
hour full of danger to Craig's hopes of victory,
for the men were wild with excitement, and
ready for the most reckless means of ' slinging
their dust1 I could not but admire the skill
with which Mr. Craig caught their attention.

4 Gentlemen,' he called out, ' we Ve forgotten
the judge of the great race. Three cheers for
Mr. Connor ! '

Two of the shantymen picked me up and
hoisted me on their shoulders while the cheers
were given.

1 Announce the Punch and Judy,' he entreated
me, in a low voice. I did so in a little speech,
and was forthwith borne aloft, through the street
to the booth, followed by the whole crowd, cheer-
ing like mad

54 BLACK ROCK

The excitement of the crowd caught me, and
for an hour I squeaked and worked the wires of
the immortal and unhappy family in a manner
hitherto unapproached by me at least. I was
glad enough when Graeme came to tell me to
send the men in to dinner. This Mr. Punch did
in the most gracious manner, and again with
cheers for Punch's master they trooped tumultu-
ously into the tent

We had only well begun when Baptiste came
in quietly but hurriedly and whispered to me —

1 M'sieu Craig, he 's gone to Slavin's, and would
lak you and M'sieu Graeme would follow queek.
Sandy he 's take one leel drink up at de stable,
and he 's go mad lak one diable.'

I sent him for Graeme, who was presiding at
dinner, and set off for Slavin's at a run. There I
found Mr. Craig and Nelson holding Sandy, mora
than half drunk, back from Slavin, who, stripped
to the shirt, was coolly waiting with a taunting
smile.

' Let me go, Mr. Craig,' Sandy was saying, ' I
am a good Presbyterian. He is a Papist thief;
and he has my money ; and I will have it out of
the soul of him.'

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 55

1 Let him go, preacher,' sneered Slavin, ' I '11
cool him off for yez. But ye 'd better hold him
if yez wants his mug left on to him.'

' Let him go ! ' Keefe was shouting.

' Hands off! ' Blaney was echoing.

I pushed my way in. ' What 's up ? ' I cried.

1 Mr. Connor,' said Sandy solemnly, 'it is a
gentleman you are, though your name is against
you, and I am a good Presbyterian, and I can give
you the Commandments and Reasons annexed
to them ; but yon 's a thief, a Papist thief, and I
am justified in getting my money out of his soul.'

' But,' I remonstrated, ' you won't get it in this
way.'

1 He has my money,' reiterated Sandy.

' He is a blank liar, and he 's afraid to take it
up,' said Slavin, in a low, cool tone.

With a roar Sandy broke away and rushed at
him ; but, without moving from his tracks, Slavin
met him with a straight left-hander and laid him
flat

' Hooray,' yelled Blaney, * Ireland for ever!' and,
seizing the iron poker, swung it around his head,
crying, ' Back, or, by the holy Moses, I '11 kill
the first man that interferes wid the game.'

$6 BLACK ROCK

' Give it to him ! ' Keefe said savagely.

Sandy rose slowly, gazing round stupidly.

' He don't know what hit him,' laughed Keefe.

This roused the Highlander, and saying, ' I '11
settle you afterwards, Mister Keefe,' he rushed in
again at Slavin. Again Slavin met him again
with his left, staggered him, and, before he fell,
took a step forward and delivered a terrific right-
hand blow on his jaw. Poor Sandy went down
in a heap amid the yells of Blaney, Keefe, and
some others of the gang. I was in despair when
in came Baptiste and Graeme.

One look at Sandy, and Baptiste tore off his
coat and cap, slammed them on the floor, danced
on them, and with a long-drawn ' sap-r-r-r-rie,'
rushed at Slavin. But Graeme caught him by
the back of the neck, saying, ' Hold on, little
man,' and turning to Slavin, pointed to Sandy,
who was reviving under Nelson's care, and said,
•What's this for?

' Ask him,' said Slavin insolently. ' He knows.'

1 What is it, Nelson ? '

Nelson explained that Sandy, after drinking
some at the stable and a glass at the Black Rock
Hotel, had come down here with Keefe and the

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 57

others, had lost his money, and was accusing
Slavin of robbing him.

'Did you furnish him with liquor?' said
Graeme sternly.

' It is none of your business,' replied Slavin,
with an oath.

'I shall make it my business. It is not the
first time my men have lost money in this
saloon.'

' You lie/ said Slavin, with deliberate emphasis.

1 Slavin/ said Graeme quietly, ' it 's a pity you
said that, because, unless you apologise in one
minute, I shall make you sorry.'

1 Apologise ? ' roared Slavin, ' apologise to you ? '
calling him a vile name.

Graeme grew white, and said even more slowly,
' Now you '11 have to take it ; no apology will
do.'

He slowly stripped off coat and vest. Mr.
Craig interposed, begging Graeme to let th«
matter pass. ' Surely he is not worth it*

' Mr. Craig/ said Graeme, with an easy smile,
'you don't understand. No man can call me
that name and walk around afterwards feeling
well*

5» BLACK ROCK

Then, turning to Slavin, he said, ' Now, If yon
want a minute's rest, I can wait*

Slavin, with a curse, bade him come.

1 Blaney,' said Graeme sharply, ' you get back.1
Blaney promptly stepped back to Keefe's side.
1 Nelson, you and Baptiste can see that they stay
there.' The old man nodded and looked at Craig,
who simply said, ' Do the best you can.'

It was a good fight. Slavin had plenty of
pluck, and for a time forced the fighting, Graeme
guarding easily and tapping him aggravatingly
about the nose and eyes, drawing blood, but not
disabling him. Gradually there came a look of
fear into Slavin's eyes, and the beads stood upon
his face. He had met his master.

' Now, Slavin, you 're beginning to be sorry ; and
now I am going to show you what you are made
of.1 Graeme made one or two lightning passes,
struck Slavin one, two, three terrific blows, and
laid him quite flat and senseless. Keefe and
Blaney both sprang forward, but there was a
savage kind of growl.

' Hold, there ! ' It was old man Nelson looking
along a pistol barrel. 'You know me, Keefe,
he said. ' You won't do any murder this time.'

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 59

Keefe turned green and yellow, and staggered
back, while Slavin slowly rose to his feet

'Will you take some more?' said Graeme.
1 You haven't got much ; but mind I have stopped
playing with you. Put up your gun, Nelson.
No one will interfere now.'

Slavin hesitated, then rushed, but Graeme
stepped to meet him, and we saw Slavin's heels
in the air as he fell back upon his neck and
shoulders and lay still, with his toes quivering.

'Bon!' yelled Baptiste. 'Bully boy! Dat's
de bon stuff. Dat 's larn him one good lesson.'
But immediately he shrieked, ' Gar-r-r-r-e a vous ! '

He was too late, for there was a crash of break-
ing glass, and Graeme fell to the floor with a long
deep cut on the side of his head. Keefe had
hurled a bottle with all too sure an aim, and had
fled. I thought he was dead ; but we carried him
out, and in a few minutes he groaned, opened his
eyes, and sank again into insensibility.

' Where can we take him ? ' I cried.

' To my shack,' said Mr. Craig.

' Is there no place nearer ? '

1 Yes ; Mrs. Mavor's. I shall run on to tell her.'

She met us at the door. I had in mind to say

60 BLACK ROCK

some words of apology, but when I looked upon
her face I forgot my words, forgot my business
at her door, and stood simply looking.

' Come in ! Bring him in ! Please do not
wait/ she said, and her voice was sweet and soft
and firm.

We laid him in a large room at the back of the
shop over which Mrs. Mavor lived. Together we
dressed the wound, her firm white fingers, skilful
as if with long training. Before the dressing was
finished I sent Craig off, for the time had come
for the Magic Lantern in the church, and I knew
how critical the moment was in our fight. ' Go/
I said ; ' he is coming to, and we do not need
you.'

In a few moments more Graeme revived, and,
gazing about, asked, 'What's all this about?'
and then, recollecting, ' Ah ! that brute Keefe ' ;
then seeing my anxious face he said carelessly,
' Awful bore, ain't it ? Sorry to trouble you, old
fellow/

1 You be hanged ! ' I said shortly ; for his old
sweet smile was playing about his lips, and was
almost too much for me. ' Mrs. Mavor and I are
in command, and you must keep perfectly still.1

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 61

'Mrs. Mavor?' he said, in surprise. She came
forward, with a slight flush on her face,

1 1 think you know me, Mr. Graeme.'

' I have often seen you, and wished to know
you. I am sorry to bring you this trouble.'

' You must not say so,' she replied, ' but let me
o all for you that I can. And now the doctor
ays you are to lie still.'

1 The doctor ? Oh ! you mean Connor. He is
hardly there yet. You don't know each other.
Permit me to present Mr. Connor, Mrs. Mavor.'

As she bowed slightly, her eyes looked into
mine with serious gaze, not inquiring, yet search-
ing my soul. As I looked into her eyes I forgot
everything about me, and when I recalled myself
it seemed as if I had been away in some far
place. It was not their colour or their brightness ;
I do not yet know their colour, and I have often
looked into them ; and they were not bright ; but
they were clear, and one could look far down
into them, and in their depths see a glowing,
steady light As I went to get some drugs from
the Black Rock doctor, I found myself wondering
about that far- down light ; and about her voice,
how it could get that sound from far away.

6a BLACK ROCK

I found the doctor quite drunk, as indeed Mr.
Craig had warned ; but his drugs were good, and
I got what I wanted and quickly returned.

While Graeme slept Mrs. Mavor made me tea.
As the evening wore on I told her the events of
the day, dwelling admiringly upon Craig's general-
ship. She smiled at this.

' He got me too,' she said. ' Nixon was sent to
me just before the sports ; and I don't think he
will break down to-day, and I am so thankful.'
And her eyes glowed.

' I am quite sure he won't,' I thought to myself,
but I said no word.

After a long pause, she went on, ' I have
promised Mr. Craig to sing to-night, if I am
needed ! ' and then, after a moment's hesitation,
1 It is two years since I have been able to sing —
two years/ she repeated, 'since' — and then her
brave voice trembled — ' my husband was killed.'

I 1 quite understand,' I said, having no other
word on my tongue.

' And,' she went on quietly, ' I fear I have been
selfish. It is hard to sing the same songs. We
were very happy. But the miners like to hear
me sing, and I think perhaps it helps them to

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 63

feel less lonely, and keeps them from evil. I
shall try to-night, if I am needed. Mr. Craig
will not ask me unless he must.'

I would have seen every miner and lumberman
in the place hideously drunk before I would have
asked her to sing one song while her heart ached.
I wondered at Craig, and said, rather angrily —

' He thinks only of those wretched miners and
shantymen of his.'

She looked at me with wonder in her eyes, and
said gently, 'And are they not Christ's too?'

And I found no word to reply.

It was ncaring ten o'clock, and I was wonder-
ing how the fight was going, and hoping that
Mrs. Mavor would not be needed, when the door
opened, and old man Nelson and Sandy, the
latter much battered and ashamed, came in with
the word for Mrs. Mavor.

' I will come,' she said simply. She saw me
preparing to accompany her, and asked, ' Do you
think you can leave him ? '

1 He will do quite well in Nelson's care.'

' Then I am glad ; for I must take my little
one with me. I did not put her to bed in case I
should need to go, and I may not leave her.1

64 BLACK ROCK

We entered the church by the back door, and
saw at once that even yet the battle might easily
be lost

Some miners had just come from Slavin's,
evidently bent on breaking up the meeting, in
revenge for the collapse of the dance, which
.Slavin was unable to enjoy, much less direct
Craig was gallantly holding his ground, rinding
it hard work to keep his men in good humour,
and so prevent a fight, for there were cries of
' Put him out ! Put the beast out ! ' at a miner
half drunk and wholly outrageous.

The look of relief that came over his face when
Craig caught sight of us told how anxious he had
been, and reconciled me to Mrs. Mavor's singing.
1 Thank the good God,' he said, with what came
near being a sob, ' I was about to despair.'

He immediately walked to the front and called
out —

'Gentlemen, if you wish it, Mrs. Mavor will
sing.'

There was a dead silence. Some one began to
applaud, but a miner said savagely, 'Stop that,
you fool!'

There was a few moments' delay, when from

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 65

the crowd a voice called out, ' Does Mrs. Mavor
wish to sing ? ' followed by cries of ' Ay, that 's
it.' Then Shaw, the foreman at the mines, stood
up in the audience and said —

' Mr. Craig and gentlemen, you know that three
years ago I was known as "Old Ricketts," and
that I owe all I am to-night, under God, to
Mrs. Mavor, and ' — with a little quiver in his
voice — 'her baby. And we all know that for
two years she has not sung; and we all know
why. And what I say is, that if she does not feel
like singing to-night, she is not going to sing to
keep any drunken brute of Slavin's crowd quiet'

There were deep growls of approval all over
the church. I could have hugged Shaw then and
there. Mr. Craig went to Mrs. Mavor, and after
a word with her came back and said —

'Mrs. Mavor wishes me to thank her dear
friend Mr. Shaw, but says she would like to
sing.'

The response was perfect stillness. Mr. Craig
sat down to the organ and played the opening
bars of the touching melody, 'Oft in the Stilly
Night.' Mrs. Mavor came to the front, and, with
a smile of exquisite sweetness upon her sad face,

66 BLACK ROCK

and looking straight at us with her glorious eyes,
began to sing.

Her voice, a rich soprano, even and true, rose
and fell, now soft, now strong, but always filling
the building, pouring around us floods of music.
I had heard Patti's ' Home, sweet Home,' and of
all singing that alone affected me as did this.

At the end of the first verse the few women in
the church and some men were weeping quietly ;
but when she began the words —

' When I remember all
The friends once linked together,'

sobs came on every side from these tender-
hearted fellows, and Shaw quite lost his grip.
But she sang steadily on, the tone clearer and
sweeter and fuller at every note, and when the
sound of her voice died away, she stood looking
at the men as if in wonder that they should weep.
No one moved. Mr. Craig played softly on, and,
wandering through many variations, arrived at

last at

'Jesus, lover of my soul-

As she sang the appealing words, her face was
lifted up, and she saw none of us ; but she must

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 67

have seen some one, for the cry in her voice could
only come from one who could see and feel help
close at hand. On and on went the glorious
voice, searching my soul's depths ; but when she
came to the words —

1 Thou, O Christ, art all I want,'

she stretched up her arms — she had quite for-
gotten us, her voice had borne her to other worlds
— and sang with such a passion of abandon that
my soul was ready to surrender anything, every-
thing.

Again Mr. Craig wandered on through his
changing chords till again he came to familiar
ground, and the voice began, in low, thrilling
tones, Bernard's great song of home —

'Jerusalem the golden.'

Every word, with all its weight of meaning,
came winging to our souls, till we found ourselves
gazing afar into those stately halls of Zion, with
their daylight serene and their jubilant throngs.
When the singer came to the last verse there
was a pause. Again Mr. Craig softly played the
interlude, but still there was no voice. I looked
up. She was very white, and her eyes were

68 BLACK ROCK

glowing with their deep light. Mr. Craig looked
quickly about, saw her, stopped, and half rose, as
if to go to her, when, in a voice that seemed to
come from a far-off land, she went on —

' O sweet and blessed country 1 '

The longing, the yearning, in the second ' O ' were
indescribable. Again and again, as she held that
word, and then dropped down with the cadence
in the music, my heart ached for I knew not
what

The audience were sitting as in a trance. The
grimy faces of the miners, for they never get
quite white, were furrowed with the tear-courses.
Shaw, by this time, had his face too lifted high,
his eyes gazing far above the singer's head, and
I knew by the rapture in his face that he was
seeing, as she saw, the thronging stately halls and
the white-robed conquerors. He had felt, and
was still feeling, all the stress of the fight, and to
him the vision of the conquerors in their glory
was soul-drawing and soul-stirring. And Nixon,
too — he had his vision ; but what he saw was the
face of the singer, with the shining eyes, and, by
the look of him, that was vision enough.

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 69

Immediately after her last note Mrs. Mavor
stretched out her hands to her little girl, who was
sitting on my knee, caught her up, and, holding
her close to her breast, walked quickly behind
the curtain. Not a sound followed the singing:
no one moved till she had disappeared ; and then
Mr. Craig came to the front, and, motioning to
me to follow Mrs. Mavor, began in a low, distinct
voice —

' Gentlemen, it was not easy for Mrs. Mavor to
sing for us, and you know she sang because she
is a miner's wife, and her heart is with the miners.
But she sang, too, because her heart is His who
came to earth this day so many years ago to save
us all; and she would make you love Him too.
For in loving Him you are saved from all base
loves, and you know what I mean.

'And before we say good-night, men, I want
to know if the time is not come when all of you
who mean to be better than you, are should join
in putting from us this thing that has brought
sorrow and shame to us and to those we love?
You know what I mean. Some of you are
strong; will you stand by and see weaker men
robbed of the money they save for those far

70 BLACK ROCK

away, and robbed of the manhood that no money
can buy or restore ?

1 Will the strong men help ? Shall we all join
hands in this ? What do you say ? In this town
we have often seen hell, and just a moment ago
we were all looking into heaven, " the sweet and
blessed country." O men ! ' and his voice rang
in an agony through the building — ' O men !
which shall be ours? For Heaven's dear sake,
let us help one another ! Who will ? '

I was looking out through a slit in the curtain.
The men, already wrought to intense feeling by
the music, were listening with set faces and
gleaming eyes, and as at the appeal ' Who will ? '
Craig raised high his hand, Shaw, Nixon, and a
hundred men sprang to their feet and held high
their hands.

I have witnessed some thrilling scenes in my
life, but never anything to equal that: the one
man on the platform standing at full height, with
his hand thrown up to heaven, and the hundred
men below standing straight, with arms up at
full length, silent, and almost' motionless.

For a moment Craig held them so ; and again
his voice rang out, louder, sterner than before —

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 71

' All who mean it, say, " By God's help, I will." '

And back from a hundred throats came deep
and strong the words, ' By God's help, I will.'

At this point Mrs. Mavor, whom I had quite
forgotten, put her hand on my arm. 'Go and
tell him,' she panted, ' I want them to come on
Thursday night, as they used to in the other days
— go — quick,' and she almost pushed me out. I
gave Craig her message. He held up his hand
for silence.

' Mrs. Mavor wishes me to say that she will be
glad to see you all, as in the old days, on Thurs-
day evening ; and I can think of no better place
to give formal expression to our pledge of this
night'

There was a shout of acceptance ; and then, at
some one's call, the long pent-up feelings of the
crowd found vent in three mighty cheers for Mrs.
Mavor.

' Now for our old hymn,' called out Mr. Craig,
1 and Mrs. Mavor will lead us.'

He sat down at the organ, played a few bars
of ' The Sweet By and By,' and then Mrs. Mavor
began. But not a soul joined till the refrain was
reached, and then they sang as only men with

7t BLACK ROCK

their hearts on fire can sing. But after the last
refrain Mr. Craig made a sign to Mrs. Mavor,
and she sang alone, slowly and softly, and with
eyes looking far away —

1 In the sweet by and by,

We shall meet on that beautiful shore.1

There was no benediction — there seemed no
need ; and the men went quietly out But over
and over again the voice kept singing in my ears
and in my heart, ' We shall meet on that beautiful
shore.' And after the sleigh- loads of men had
gone and left the street empty, as I stood with
Craig in the radiant moonlight that made the
great mountains about come near us, from Sandy's
sleigh we heard in the distance Baptiste's French-
English song; but the song that floated down
with the sound of the bells from the miners' sleigh
was —

' We shall meet on that beautiful shore.1

1 Poor old Shaw 1 * said Craig softly.
When the last sound had died away I turned
to him and said —

' You have won your fight'

'We have won our fight; I was beaten/ he

WATERLOO. OUR FIGHT— HIS VICTORY 73

replied quickly, offering me his hand. Then,
taking off his cap, and looking up beyond the
mountain-tops and the silent stars, he added
softly, ' Our fight, but His victory.'

And, thinking it all over, I could not say but
perhaps he was right

MRS MAYOR'S STORY

CHAPTER IV

MRS. MAYOR'S STORY

THE days that followed the Black Rock Christ-
mas were anxious days and weary, but not for
the brightest of my life would I change them
now ; for, as after the burning heat or rocking
storm the dying day lies beautiful in the tender
glow of the evening, so these days have lost their
weariness and lie bathed in a misty glory. The
years that bring us many ills, and that pass so
stormfully over us, bear away with them the ugli-
ness, the weariness, the pain that are theirs, but
the beauty, the sweetness, the rest they leave
untouched, for these are eternal. As the moun-
tains, that near at hand stand jagged and scarred,
in the far distance repose in their soft robes of
purple haze, so the rough present fades into the
past, soft and sweet and beautiful.

I have set myself to recall the pain and anxiety

it

78 BLACK ROCK

of those days and nights when we waited in fear
for the turn of the fever, but I can only think of
the patience and gentleness and courage of her
who stood beside me, bearing more than half
my burden. And while I can see the face of
Leslie Graeme, ghastly or flushed, and hear
his low moaning or the broken words of his
delirium, I think chiefly of the bright face bend-
ing over him, and of the cool, firm, swift-moving
hands that soothed and smoothed and rested,
and the voice, like the soft song of a bird in the
twilight, that never failed to bring peace.

Mrs. Mavor and I were much together during
those days. I made my home in Mr. Craig's
shack, but most of my time was spent beside
my friend. We did not see much of Craig, for
he was heart-deep with the miners, laying plans
for the making of the League the following
Thursday; and though he shared our anxiety
and was ever ready to relieve us, his thought
and his talk had mostly to do with the League.

Mrs. Mavor's evenings were given to the miners,
but her afternoons mostly to Graeme and to me,
and then it was I saw another side of her char-
acter. We would sit in her little dining-room,

MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 79

where the pictures on the walls, the quaint old
silver, and bits of curiously cut glass, all spoke
of other and different days, and thence we would
roam the world of literature and art. Keenly
sensitive to all the good and beautiful in these,
she had her favourites among the masters, for
whom she was ready to do battle ; and when
her argument, instinct with fancy and vivid imagi-
nation, failed, she swept away all opposing opinion
with the swift rush of her enthusiasm ; so that,
though I felt she was beaten, I was left without
words to reply. Shakespeare and Tennyson and
Burns she loved, but not Shelley, nor Byron, nor
even Wordsworth. Browning she knew not, and
therefore could not rank him with her noblest
three ; but when I read to her ' A Death in the
Desert,' and came to the noble words at the end
of the tale —

' For all was as I say, and now the man
Lies as he once lay, breast to breast with God,1

the light shone in her eyes, and she said, ' Oh, that
is good and great ; I shall get much out of him ;
I had always feared he was impossible.' And
1 Paracelsus,' too, stirred her ; but when I recited

So BLACK ROCK

the thrilling fragment, 'Prospice,' on to that
closing rapturous cry —

4 Then a light, then thy breast,
O thou soul of my soul I I shall clasp thee again,
And with God be the rest !'—

the red colour faded from her cheek, her breath
came in a sob, and she rose quickly and passed
out without a word. Ever after, Browning was
among her gods. But when we talked of music,
she, adoring Wagner, soared upon the wings of
the mighty Tannhauser, far above, into regions
unknown, leaving me to walk soberly with
Beethoven and Mendelssohn. Yet with all our
free, frank talk, there was all the while that in her
gentle courtesy which kept me from venturing
into any chamber of her life whose door she did
not set freely open to me. So I vexed myself
about her, and when Mr. Craig returned the
next week from the Landing where he had been
for some days, my first question was —

'Who is Mrs. Mavor? And how in the name
of all that is wonderful and unlikely does she
come to be here ? And why does she stay ? '

He would not answer then,; whether it was
that his mind was full of the coming struggle, or

MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 81

whether he shrank from the tale, I know not;
but that night, when we sat together beside his
fire, he told me the story, while I smoked. He
was worn with his long, hard drive, and with
the burden of his work, but as he went on with
his tale, looking into the fire as he told it, he
forgot all his present weariness and lived again
the scenes he painted for me. This was his
story : —

' I remember well my first sight of her, as she
sprang from the front seat of the stage to the
ground, hardly touching her husband's hand.
She looked a mere girl. Let's see — five years
ago — she couldn't have been a day over twenty-
three. She looked barely twenty. Her swift
glance swept over the group of miners at the
hotel door, and then rested on the mountains
standing in all their autumn glory.

'I was proud of our mountains that even-
ing. Turning to her husband, she exclaimed:
" O Lewis, are they not grand ? and lovely,
too?" Every miner lost his heart then and
there, but all waited for Abe the driver to give
his verdict before venturing an opinion. Abe
said nothing until he had taken a preliminary

8a BLACK ROCK

drink, and then, calling all hands to fill up, he
lifted his glass high, and said solemnly —

'"Boys, here's to her."

'Like a flash every glass was emptied, and
Abe called out, " Fill her up again, boys 1 My
treat!"

' He was evidently quite worked up. Then
he began, with solemn emphasis —

' " Boys, you hear me ! She 's a No. I, triple X,

the pure quill with a bead on it : she 's a ,

and for the first time in his Black Rock history
Abe was stuck for a word. Some one suggested
" angel."

' " Angel ! " repeated Abe, with infinite con-
tempt. " Angel be blowed " (I paraphrase here) ;
" angels ain't in the same month with her ; I 'd
like to see any blanked angel swing my team
around them curves without a shiver."

'"Held the lines herself, Abe?" asked a
miner.

' " That 's what," said Abe ; and then he went
off into a fusilade of scientific profanity, ex-
pressive of his esteem for the girl who had swung
his team round the curves ; and the miners
nodded to each other, and winked their entire

MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 83

approval of Abe's performance, for this was his
specialty.

* Very decent fellow, Abe, but his talk wouldn't
print.'

Here Craig paused, as if balancing Abe's
virtues and vices.

1 Well,' I urged, ' who is she ? '

'Oh yes,' he said, recalling himself; 'she is
an Edinburgh young lady — met Lewis Mavor, a
young Scotch- English man, in London — wealthy,
good family, and all that, but fast, and going to
pieces at home. His people, who own large
shares in these mines here, as a last resort sent
him out here to reform. Curiously innocent ideas
those old country people have of the reforming
properties of this atmosphere ! They send their
young bloods here to reform. Here! in this
devil's camp-ground, where a man's lust is his
only law, and when, from sheer monotony, a
man must betake himself to the only excitement
of the place — that offered by the saloon. Good
people in the east hold up holy hands of horror
at these godless miners ; but I tell you it 's asking
these boys a good deal to keep straight and clean
in a place like this. I take my excitement in

84 BLACK ROCK

fighting the devil and doing my work generally,
and that gives me enough ; but these poor chaps —
hard worked, homeless, with no break or change —
God help them and me ! ' and his voice sank low,
1 Well/ I persisted, ' did Mavor reform ? '
Again he roused himself. ' Reform ? Not
exactly. In six months he had broken through
all restraint; and, mind you, not the miners'
fault — not a miner helped him down. It was a
sight to make angels weep when Mrs. Mavor
would come to the saloon door for her husband.
Every miner would vanish ; they could not look
upon her shame, and they would send Mavor
forth in the charge of Billy Breen, a queer little
chap, who had belonged to the Mavors in some
way in the old country, and between them they
would get him home. How she stood it puzzles
me to this day ; but she never made any sign, and
her courage never failed. It was always a bright,
brave, proud face she held up to the world —
except in church ; there it was different I used
to preach my sermons, I believe, mostly for her — •
but never so that she could suspect — as bravely
and as cheerily as I could. And as she listened,
and especially as she sang — how she used to sing

MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 85

in those days ! — there was no touch of pride in
her face, though the courage never died out, but
appeal, appeal ! I could have cursed aloud the
cause of her misery, or wept for the pity of it.
Before her baby was born he seemed to pull
himself together, for he was quite mad about her,
and from the day the baby came — talk about
miracles ! — from that day he never drank a drop.
She gave the baby over to him, and the baby
simply absorbed him.

'He was a new man. He could not drink
whisky and kiss his baby. And the miners — it
was really absurd if it were not so pathetic. It
was the first baby in Black Rock, and they used
to crowd Mavor's shop and peep into the room
at the back of it — I forgot to tell you that when
he lost his position as manager he opened a
hardware shop, for his people chucked him, and
he was too proud to write home for money — just
for a chance to be asked in to see the baby. I
came upon Nixon standing at the back of the
shop after he had seen the baby for the first time,
sobbing hard, and to my question he replied :
"It's just like my own." You can't understand
this. But to men who have lived so long in the

86 BLACK ROCK

mountains that they have forgotten what a baby
looks like, who have had experience of humanity
only in its roughest, foulest form, this little mite,
sweet and clean, was like an angel fresh from
heaven, the one link in all that black camp that
bound them to what was purest and best in their
past

' And to see the mother and her baby handle
the miners !

4 Oh, it was all beautiful beyond words ! I shall
never forget the shock I got one night when
I found "Old Ricketts" nursing the baby. A
drunken old beast he was ; but there he was
sitting, sober enough, making extraordinary faces
at the baby, who was grabbing at his nose and
whiskers and cooing in blissful delight. Poor
" Old Ricketts " looked as if he had been caught
stealing, and muttering something about having
to go. gazed wildly round for some place in which
to lay the baby, when in came the mother, saying
in her own sweet, frank way : " O Mr. Ricketts "
(she didn't find out till afterwards his name was
Shaw), " would you mind keeping her just a little
longer? — I shall be back in a few minutes." And
" Old Ricketts " guessed he could wait

MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 87

1 But in six months mother and baby, between
them, transformed " Old Ricketts " into Mr. Shaw,
fire-boss of the mines. And then in the evenings,
when she would be singing her baby to sleep, the
little shop would be full of miners, listening in
dead silence to the baby-songs, and the English
songs, and the Scotch songs she poured forth
without stint, for she sang more for them than
for her baby. No wonder they adored her.
She was so bright, so gay, she brought light with
her when she went into the camp, into the pits —
for she went down to see the men work — or into
a sick miner's shack ; and many a man, lonely
and sick for home or wife, or baby or mother,
found in that back room cheer and comfort and
courage, and to many a poor broken wretch that
room became, as one miner put it, " the anteroom
to heaven." '

Mr. Craig paused, and I waited. Then he went
on slowly —

I For a year and a half that was the happiest
home in all the world, till one day '

He put his face in his hands, and shuddered.

I 1 don't think I can ever forget the awful
horror of that bright fall afternoon, when "OJ-J

88 BLACK ROCK

Ricketts" came breathless to me and gasped,
" Come ! for the dear Lord's sake," and I rushed
after him. At the mouth of the shaft lay three
men dead. One was Lewis Mavor. He had
gone down to superintend the running of a new
drift ; the two men, half drunk with Slavin's
whisky, set off a shot prematurely, to their
own and Mayor's destruction. They were badly
burned, but his face was untouched. A miner
was sponging off the bloody froth oozing from
his lips. The others were standing about waiting
for me to speak. But I could find no word, for
my heart was sick, thinking, as they were, of the
young mother and her baby waiting at home.
So I stood, looking stupidly from one to the
other, trying to find some reason — coward that I
was — why another should bear the news rather
than I. And while we stood there, looking at
one another in fear, there broke upon us the
sound of a voice mounting high above the birch
tops, singing —

•"Will ye no' come back again?
Will ye no' come back again ?
Better lo'ed ye canna be,
Will ye no' come back again ?*

MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 89

1 A strange terror seized us. Instinctively the
men closed up in front of the body, and stood in
silence. Nearer and nearer came the clear, sweet
voice, ringing like a silver bell up the steep —

* " Sweet the lav*rock's note and lang,

Liltin' wildly up the glen,
But aye tae me he sings ae sang,
Will ye no' come back again ? "

' Before the verse was finished " Old Ricketts "
had dropped on his knees, sobbing out brokenly,
" O God ! O God ! have pity, have pity, have
pity ! " — and every man took off his hat And
still the voice came nearer, singing so brightly
the refrain,

' M Will ye no* come back again ? "

' It became unbearable. " Old Ricketts " sprang
suddenly to his feet, and, gripping me by the
arm, said piteously, " Oh, go to her ! for Heaven's
sake, go to her ! " I next remember standing in
her path and seeing her holding out her hands
full of red lilies, crying out, "Are they not
lovely ? Lewis is so fond of them ! " With the
promise of much finer ones I turned her down
a path toward the river, talking I know not what

90 BLACK ROCK

folly, till her great eyes grew grave, then anxious,
and my tongue stammered and became silent
Then, laying her hand upon my arm, she said
with gentle sweetness, "Tell me your trouble,
Mr. Craig," and I knew my agony had come,
and I burst out, "Oh, if it were only mine!"
She turned quite white, and with her deep eyes —
you've noticed her eyes — drawing the truth out
of mine, she said, " Is it mine, Mr. Craig, and my
baby's ? " I waited, thinking with what words to
begin. She put one hand to her heart, and with
the other caught a little poplar-tree that shivered
under her grasp, and said with white lips, but
even more gently, M Tell me." I wondered at my
voice being so steady as I said, " Mrs. Mavor,
God will help you and your baby. There has
been an accident — and it is all over."

' She was a miner's wife, and there was no need
for more. I could see the pattern of the sunlight
falling through the trees upon the grass. I could
hear the murmur of the river, and the cry of the
cat-bird in the bushes, but we seemed to be in a
strange and unreal world. Suddenly she stretched
out her hands to me, and with a little moan said,
"Take me to him."

MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 91

'"Sit down for a moment or two," I entreated.

' " No, no ! I am quite ready. See," she added
quietly, " I am quite strong."

4 1 set off by a short cut leading to her home,
hoping the men would be there before us; but,
passing me, she walked swiftly through the trees,
and I followed in fear. As we came near the
main path I heard the sound of feet, and I tried
to stop her, but she, too, had heard and knew
" Oh, let me go ! " she said piteously ; " you need
not fear." And I had not the heart to stop her.
In a little opening among the pines we met the
bearers. When the men saw her, they laid their
burden gently down upon the carpet of yellow
pine-needles, and then, for they had the hearts
of true men in them, they went away into the
bushes and left her alone with her dead. She
went swiftly to his side, making no cry, but
kneeling beside him she stroked his face and
hands, and touched his curls with her fingers,
murmuring all the time soft words of love. " O
my darling, my bonnie, bonnie darling, speak to
me! Will ye not speak to me just one little
word ? O my love, my love, my heart's love !
Listen, my darling!" And she put her lips to

92 BLACK ROCK

his ear, whispering, and then the awful stillness.
Suddenly she lifted her head and scanned his
face, and then, glancing round with a wild
surprise in her eyes, she cried, " He will not
speak to me ! Oh, he will not speak to me ! " I
signed to the men, and as they came forward
I went to her and took her hands.

' "Oh," she said with a wail in her voice; " he will
not speak to me." The men were sobbing aloud.
She looked at them with wide-open eyes of
wonder. "Why are they weeping? Will he
never speak to me again ? Tell me," she insisted
gently. The words were running through my
head —

1 " There 's a land that is fairer than day,"
and I said them over to her, holding her hands
firmly in mine. She gazed at me as if in a dream,
and the light slowly faded from her eyes as she
said, tearing her hands from mine and waving
them towards the mountains and the woods —
1 " But never more here ? Never more here ? "
' I believe in heaven and the other life, but I
confess that for a moment it all seemed shadowy
beside the reality of this warm, bright world, full
of life and love. She was very ill for two nights^

MRS. MAYOR'S STORY 93

and when the coffin was closed a new baby lay
in the father's arms.

1 She slowly came back to life, but there were
no more songs. The miners still come about her
shop, and talk to her baby, and bring her their
sorrows and troubles ; but though she is always
gentle, almost tender, with them, no man ever
says " Sing." And that is why I am glad she
sang last week ; it will be good for her and good
for them.'

' Why does she stay ? ' I asked.

' Mavor's people wanted her to go to them/ he
replied.

1 They have money — she told me about it, but
her heart is in the grave up there under the pines ;
and besides, she hopes to do something for the
miners, and she will not leave them.'

I am afraid I snorted a little impatiently as I
said, ' Nonsense ! why, with her face, and manner,
and voice she could be anything she liked in
Edinburgh or in London.'

'And why Edinburgh or London?' he asked
coolly.

'Why?' I repeated a little hotly. 'You think
this is better ? '

94 BLACK ROCK

'Nazareth was good enough for the Lord of
glory/ he answered, with a smile none too bright ;
but it drew my heart to him, and my heat was
gone.

' How long will she stay ? ' I asked.

' Till her work is done,' he replied.

'And when will that be?' I asked impatiently.

' When God chooses,' he answered gravely ;
'and don't you ever think but that it is worth
while. One value of work is not that crowds
stare at it. Read history, man ! '

He rose abruptly and began to walk about.
1 And don't miss the whole meaning of the Life
that lies at the foundation of your religion. Yes,'
he added to himself, ' the work is worth doing —
worth even her doing.'

I could not think so then, but the light of the
after years proved him wiser than I. A man, to
see far, must climb to some height, and I was too
much upon the plain in those days to catch even
a glimpse of distant sunlit uplands of triumphant
achievement that lie beyond the valley of self-
sacrifice;

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE

CHAPTER V

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE

THURSDAY morning found Craig anxious, even
gloomy, but with fight in every line of his face.
I tried to cheer him in my clumsy way by chaff-
ing him about his League. But he did not blaze
up as he often did. It was a thing too near his
heart for that. He only shrank a little from my
stupid chaff and said —

' Don't, old chap ; this is a good deal to me.
I Ve tried for two years to get this, and if it falls
through now, I shall find it hard to bear.'

Then I repented my light words and said,
' Why ! the thing will go sure enough : after that
scene in the church they won't go back.'

' Poor fellows ! ' he said as if to himself; ' whisky
is about the only excitement they have, and they
find it pretty tough to give it up ; and a lot of
the men are against the total abstinence idea.
It seems rot to them.'

98 BLACK ROCK

' It is pretty steep/ I said. ' Can't you do
without it ? '

' No ; I fear not. There is nothing else for it
Some of them talk of compromise. They want
to quit the saloon and drink quietly in their
shacks. The moderate drinker may have his
place in other countries, though I can't see it. I
haven't thought that out, but here the only safe
man is- the man who quits it dead and fights it
straight; anything else is sheerest humbug and
nonsense.'

I had not gone in much for total abstinence up
to this time, chiefly because its advocates seemed
for the most part to be somewhat ill-balanced ;
but as I listened to Craig, I began to feel that
perhaps there was a total abstinence side to the
temperance question ; and as to Black Rock, I
could see how it must be one thing or the
other.

We found Mrs. Mavor brave and bright. She
shared Mr. Craig's anxiety but not his gloom.
Her courage was of that serene kind that refuses
to believe defeat possible, and lifts the spirit into
the triumph of final victory. Through the past
week she had been carefully disposing her forces

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 99

and winning recruits. And yet she never seemed
to urge or persuade the men ; but as evening after
evening the miners dropped into the cosy room
downstairs, with her talk and her songs she
charmed them till they were wholly hers. She
took for granted their loyalty, trusted them
utterly, and so made it difficult for them to be
other than true men.

That night Mrs. Mavor's large storeroom,
which had been fitted up with seats, was
crowded with miners when Mr. Craig and I
entered.

After a glance over the crowd, Craig said,
1 There 's the manager ; that means war.' And I
saw a tall man, very fair, whose chin fell away to
the vanishing point, and whose hair was parted
in the middle, talking to Mrs. Mavor. She was
dressed in some rich soft stuff that became her
well. She was looking beautiful as ever, but
there was something quite new in her manner.
Her air of good-fellowship was gone, and she was
the high-bred lady, whose gentle dignity and
sweet grace, while very winning, made familiarity
impossible.

The manager was doing his best, and appeared

ioo BLACK ROCK

to be well pleased with himself. ' She '11 get him
if any one can. I failed,' said Craig.

I stood looking at the men, and a fine lot of
fellows they were. Free, easy, bold in their
bearing, they gave no sign of rudeness ; and,
from their frequent glances toward Mrs. Mavor,
I could see they were always conscious of her
presence. No men are so truly gentle as are the
Westerners in the presence of a good woman.
They were evidently of all classes and ranks
originally, but now, and in this country of real
measurements, they ranked simply according to
the ' man ' in them. ' See that handsome young
chap of dissipated appearance ? ' said Craig ;
'that's Vernon Winton, an Oxford graduate,
blue blood, awfully plucky, but quite gone.
When he gets repentant, instead of shooting him-
self, he comes to Mrs. Mavor. Fact'

' From Oxford University to Black Rock mining
camp is something of a step,' I replied.

' That queer- looking little chap in the corner
is Billy Breen. How in the world has he got
here ? ' went on Mr. Craig. Queer-looking he
was. A little man, with a small head set on
heavy square shoulders, long arms, and huge

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 101

hands that sprawled all over his body ; altogether
a most ungainly specimen of humanity.

By this time Mrs. Mavor had finished with the
manager, and was in the centre of a group of
miners. Her grand air was all gone, and she
was their comrade, their friend, one of themselves.
Nor did she assume the rdle of entertainer, but
rather did she, with half-shy air, cast herself upon
their chivalry, and they were too truly gentlemen
to fail her. It is hard to make Western men, and
especially old-timers, talk. But this gift was
hers, and it stirred my admiration to see her
draw on a grizzled veteran to tell how, twenty
years ago, he had crossed the Great Divide, and
had seen and done what no longer fell to men
to see or do in these new days. And so she won
the old-timer. But it was beautiful to see the
innocent guile with which she caught Billy Breen,
and drew him to her corner near the organ.
What she was saying I knew not, but poor Billy
was protesting, waving his big hands.

The meeting came to order, with Shaw in the
chair, and the handsome young Oxford man
secretary. Shaw stated the object of the meeting
in a few halting words ; but when he came to

zoa BLACK ROCK

speak of the pleasure he and all felt in being
together in that room, his words flowed in a
stream, warm and full. Then there was a pause,
and Mr. Craig was called. But he knew better
than to speak at that point Finally Nixon rose
hesitatingly; but, as he caught a bright smile
from Mrs. Mavor, he straightened himself as if
for a fight

' I ain't no good at makin' speeches,' he began ;
'but it ain't speeches we want. We've got some-
thin' to do, and what we want to know is how to
do it And to be right plain, we want to know
how to drive this cursed whisky out of Black
Rock. You all know what it 's doing for us — at
least for some of us. And it's time to stop it
now, or for some of us it '11 mighty soon be too
late. And the only way to stop its work is to
quit drinkin' it and help others to quit I heat
some talk of a League, and what I say is, if it 's
a League out and out against whisky, a Total
Abstinence right to the ground, then I 'm with it
— that's my talk — I move we make that kind
of League.'

Nixon sat down amid cheers and a chorus of
remarks, ' Good man ! ' ' That 's the talk I ' ' Stay

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 103

with it!' but he waited for the smile and the
glance that came to him from the beautiful face
in the corner, and with that he seemed content.

Again there was silence. Then the secretary
rose with a slight flush upon his handsome,
delicate face, and seconded the motion. If they
would pardon a personal reference he would give
them his reasons. He had come to this country
to make his fortune; now he was anxious to
make enough to enable him to go home with
some degree of honour. His home held every-
thing that was dear to him. Between him and
that home, between him and all that was good
and beautiful and honourable, stood whisky. ' I
am ashamed to confess/ and the flush deepened
on his cheek, and his lips grew thinner, 'that I
feel the need of some such league.' His hand-
some face, his perfect style of address, learned
possibly in the 'Union,' but, more than all, his
show of nerve — for these men knew how to value
that — made a strong impression on his audience ;
but there were no following cheers.

Mr. Craig appeared hopeful ; but on Mrs. Mavor's
face there was a look of wistful, tender pity, for
she knew how much the words had cost the lad.

104 BLACK ROCK

Then up rose a sturdy, hard-featured man, with
a burr in his voice that proclaimed his birth. His
name was George Crawford, I afterwards learned,
but every one called him Geordie. He was a
character in his way, fond of his glass ; but though
he was never known to refuse a drink, he was
never known to be drunk. He took his drink,
for the most part, with bread and cheese in his
own shack, or with a friend or two in a sober,
respectable way, but never could be induced to
join the wild carousals in Slavin's saloon. He
made the highest wages, but was far too true a
Scot to spend his money recklessly. Every one
waited eagerly to hear Geordie's mind. He spoke
solemnly, as befitted a Scotsman expressing a
deliberate opinion, and carefully, as if choosing
his best English, for when Geordie became excited
no one in Black Rock could understand him.

' Maister Chairman,' said Geordie, ' I 'm aye for
temperance in a' things.' There was a shout of
laughter, at which Geordie gazed round in pained
surprise. ' I '11 no* deny,' he went on in an
explanatory tone, ' that I tak ma mornin', an'
maybe a nip at noon, an' a wee drap aifter wark
in the evenin', an' whiles a sip o' toddy wi' a freen

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 105

thae cauld nichts. But I 'm no' a guzzler, an' I
dinna gang in wi' thae loons flingin' aboot guid
money.'

' And that 's thrue for you, me bye,' interrupted
a rich Irish brogue, to the delight of the crowd and
the amazement of Geordie, who went calmly on —

' An' I canna bide yon saloon whaur they sell
sic awfu'-like stuff — it's mair like lye nor guid
whisky, — and whaur ye 're never sure o' yer richt
change. It 's an awfu'-like place ; man ! ' — and
Geordie began to warm up — ' ye can juist smell
the sulphur when ye gang in. But I dinna care
aboot thae Temperance Soceeities, wi' their
pledges an' havers ; an' I canna see what hairm
can come till a man by takin' a bottle o' guid
Glenlivet hame wi' him. I canna bide thae tee-
total buddies.'

Geordie's speech was followed by loud applause,
partly appreciative of Geordie himself, but largely
sympathetic with his position.

Two or three men followed in the same strain,
advocating a league for mutual improvement and
social purposes, but without the teetotal pledge;
they were against the saloon, but didn't see why
they should not take a drink now and then.

io6 BLACK ROCK

Finally the manager rose to support his ' friend,
Mistah — ah — Cwafoad,' ridiculing the idea of a
total abstinence pledge as fanatical and indeed
'absuad.' He was opposed to the saloon, and
would like to see a club formed, with a com-
fortable club-room, books, magazines, pictures,
games, anything, ' dontcheknow, to make the
time pass pleasantly ' ; but it was ' absuad to
ask men to abstain fwom a pwopah use of — aw
— nouwishing dvvinks,' because some men made
beasts of themselves. He concluded by offering
$50.00 towards the support of such a club.

The current of feeling was setting strongly
against the total abstinence idea, and Craig's
face was hard and his eyes gleamed like coals.
Then he did a bit of generalship. He proposed
that since they had the two plans clearly before
them they should take a few minutes' intermission
in which to make up their minds, and he was
sure they would be glad to have Mrs. Mavor
sing. In the interval the men talked in groups,
eagerly, even fiercely, hampered seriously in the
forceful expression of their opinion by the pres-
ence of Mrs. Mavor, who glided from group to
group, dropping a word here and a smile there.

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 107

She reminded me of a general riding along the
ranks, bracing his men for the coming battle.
She paused beside Geordie, spoke earnestly for
a few moments, while Geordie gazed solemnly
at her, and then she came back to Billy in the
corner near me. What she was saying I could
not hear, but poor Billy was protesting, spreading
his hands out aimlessly before him, but gazing at
her the while in dumb admiration. Then she came
to me. ' Poor Billy, he was good to my husband,'
she said softly, * and he has a good heart.'

' He 's not much to look at,' I could not help
saying.

'The oyster hides its pearl/ she answered, a
little reproachfully.

'The shell is apparent enough,' I replied, for
the mischief was in me.

'Ah yes,' she replied softly, 'but it is the
pearl we love.'

I moved over beside Billy, whose eyes were
following Mrs. Mavor as she went to speak to
Mr. Craig. 'Well,' I said ; 'you all seem to have
a high opinion of her.'

'An 'igh hopinion,' he replied, in deep scorn.
' An 'igh hopinion, you calls it'

io8 BLACK ROCK

1 What would you call it ? ' I asked, wishing to
draw him out

' Oi don't call it nothink,' he replied, spreading
out his rough hands.

1 She seems very nice,' I said indifferently.

He drew his eyes away from Mrs. Mavor, and
gave attention to me for the first time.

'Nice!' he repeated with fine contempt; and
then he added impressively, ' Them as don't know
shouldn't say nothink.'

'You are right/ I answered earnestly, 'and I
am quite of your opinion.'

He gave me a quick glance out of his little,
deep-set, dark-blue eyes, and opened his heart
to me. He told me, in his quaint speech, how
again and again she had taken him in and nursed
him, and encouraged him, and sent him out with
a new heart for his battle, until, for very shame's
sake at his own miserable weakness, he had kept
out of her way for many months, going steadily
down.

' Now, oi hain't got no grip ; but when she says
to me to-night, says she, "Oh, Billy" — she calls
me Billy to myself (this with a touch of pride)
— '"oh, Billy," says she, "we must 'ave a total

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 109

habstinence league to-night, and oi want you to
'elp ! " and she keeps a-lookin' at me with those
heyes o' hern till, if you believe me, sir/ lower-
ing his voice to an emphatic whisper, 'though
oi knowed oi couldn't 'elp none, afore oi knowed
oi promised 'er oi would. It's 'er heyes. When
them heyes says "do," hup you steps and
"does."'

I remembered my first look into her eyes,
and I could quite understand Billy's submission.
Just as she began to sing I went over to Geordie
and took my seat beside him. She began with
an English slumber song, ' Sleep, Baby, Sleep' —
one of Barry Cornwall's, I think, — and then sang
a love-song with the refrain, ' Love once again ' ;
but no thrills came to me, and I began to wonder
if her spell over me was broken. Geordie, who had
been listening somewhat indifferently, encouraged
me, however, by saying, ' She 's just pittin' aff time
with thae feckless sangs ; man, there 's nae grup
till them.' But when, after a few minutes' pause,
she began 'My Ain Fireside,' Geordie gave a
sigh of satisfaction. 'Ay, that's somethin* like,'
and when she finished the first verse he gave me
a dig in the ribs with his elbow that took my

no BLACK ROCK

breath away, saying in a whisper, ' Man, hear till
yon, wull ye ? ' And again I found the spell upon
me. It was not the voice after all, but the great
soul behind that thrilled and compelled, She
was seeing, feeling, living what she sang, and her
voice showed us her heart The cosy fireside,
with its bonnie, blithe blink, where no care could
abide, but only peace and love, was vividly
present to her, and as she sang we saw it too.
When she came to the last verse —

' When I draw in my stool

On my cosy hearth-stane,
My heart loups sae licht
I scarce ken 't for my ain,'

there was a feeling of tears in the flowing song,
and we knew the words had brought her a picture
of the fireside that would always seem empty.
I felt the tears in my eyes, and, wondering at
myself, I cast a stealthy glance at the men about
me; and I saw that they, too, were looking
through their hearts' windows upon firesides and
ingle-neuks that gleamed from far.

And then she sang 'The Auld Hoose,' and
Geordie, giving me another poke, said, 'That's
ma ain sang/ and when I asked him what he

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE in

meant, he whispered fiercely, 'Wheesht, man!'
and I did, for his face looked dangerous.

In a pause between the verses I heard Geordie
saying to himself, ' Ay, I maun gie it up, I doot.'

'What?' I ventured.

'Naething ava/ And then he added impa-
tiently, 'Man, but ye 're an inqueesitive buddie,'
after which I subsided into silence.

Immediately upon the meeting being called to
order, Mr. Craig made his speech, and it was a
fine bit of work. Beginning with a clear state-
ment of the object in view, he set in contrast
the two kinds of leagues proposed. One, a league
of men who would take whisky in moderation ;
the other, a league of men who were pledged to
drink none themselves, and to prevent in every
honourable way others from drinking. There was
no long argument, but he spoke at white heat ;
and as he appealed to the men to think, each
not of himself alone, but of the others as well,
the yearning, born of his long months of desire
and of toil, vibrated in his voice and reached to
the heart Many men looked uncomfortable and
uncertain, and even the manager looked none too
cheerful

na BLACK ROCK

At this critical moment the crowd got a shock.
Billy Breen shuffled out to the front, and, in a
voice shaking with nervousness and emotion,
began to speak, his large, coarse hands wandering
tremulously about.

' Oi hain't no bloomin' temperance horator, and
mayhap oi hain't no right to speak 'ere, but oi got
somethin' to saigh (say) and oi 'm agoin' to saigh it.

'Parson, 'ee says is it wisky or no wisky in
this 'ere club ? If ye hask me, wich (which) ye
don't, then no wisky, says oi; and if ye hask
why ? — look at me ! Once oi could mine more
coal than hany man in the camp ; now oi hain't
fit to be a sorter. Once oi 'ad some pride and
hambition ; now oi 'angs round awaitin' for some
one to saigh, "'Ere, Billy, 'ave summat." Once
oi made good paigh (pay), and sent it 'ome
regular to my poor old mother (she 's in the wukus
now, she is); oi hain't sent 'er hany for a year
and a 'alf. Once Billy was a good fellow and 'ad
plenty o' friends ; now Slavin 'isself kicks un hout,
'ee does. Why? why?' His voice rose to a
shriek. 'Because when Billy 'ad money in 'is
pocket, hevery man in this bloomin' camp as
meets un at hevery corner says, '"Ello, Billy,

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 113

wat '11 ye 'ave ? " And there 's wisky at Slavin's,
and there's wisky in the shacks, and hevery
'oliday and hevery Sunday there's wisky, and
w'en ye feel bad it's wisky, and w'en ye feel
good it's wisky, and hevery where and halways
it 's wisky, wisky, wisky ! And now ye 're goin'
to stop it, and 'ow ? T* manager, 'ee says picters
and magazines. 'Ee takes 'is wine and 'is beer
like a gentleman, 'ee does, and 'ee don't 'ave no
use for Billy Breen. Billy, 'ee's a beast, and
t' manager, 'ee kicks un hout. But supposin' Billy
wants to stop bein' a beast, and starts a-tryin* to
be a man again, and w'en 'ee gets good an' dry,
along comes some un and says, "'Ello, Billy,
'ave a smile," it hain't picters nor magazines 'ud
stop un then. Picters and magazines! Gawd
'elp the man as hain't nothin' but picters and
magazines to 'elp un w'en 'ee 's got a devil hin-
side and a devil houtside a-shovin' and a-drawin'
of un down to 'elL And that 's w'ere oi 'm a-goin'
straight, and yer bloomin' League, wisky or no
wisky, can't help me. But,' and he lifted his
trembling hands above his head, ' if ye stop the
wisky a-flowin' round this camp, ye '11 stop some
of these lads that 's a-followin' me 'ard. Yes, you !

ii4 BLACK ROCK

and you ! and you ! ' and his voice rose to a wild
scream as he shook a trembling finger at one and
another.

'Man, it's fair gruesome tae hear him/ said
Geordie ; ' he 's no' canny ' ; and reaching out for
Billy as he went stumbling past, he pulled him
down to a seat beside him, saying, ' Sit doon, lad,
sit doon. We'll mak a man o* ye yet' Then
he rose and, using many r's, said, ' Maister Chair-
man, a' doot we '11 juist hae to gie it up.'

'Give it up?' called out Nixon. 'Give up the
League ? '

' Na ! na ! lad, but juist the wee drap whusky.
It's nae that guid onyway, and it's a terrible
price. Man, gin ye gang tae Henderson's in
Buchanan Street, in Gleska, ye ken, ye '11 get mair
for three-an'-saxpence than ye wull at Slavin's
for five dollars. An' it '11 no' pit ye mad like yon
stuff, but it gangs doon smooth an' saft-like.
But' (regretfully) 'ye '11 no' can get it here; an'
a'm thinkin' a'll juist sign yon teetotal thing.'
And up he strode to the table and put his name
down in the book Craig had ready. Then to
Billy he said, ' Come awa, lad 1 pit yer name
doon, an' we '11 stan' by ye.'

THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE 115

Poor Billy looked around helplessly, his nerve
all gone, and sat still. There was a swift rustle
of garments, and Mrs. Mavor was beside him, and,
in a voice that only Billy and I could hear, said,
'You'll sign with me, Billy?'

Billy gazed at her with a hopeless look in his
eyes, and shook his little head. She leaned
slightly toward him, smiling brightly, and, touch-
ing his arm gently, said —

'Come, Billy, there's no fear,' and in a lower
voice, ' God will help you.'

As Billy went up, following Mrs. Mavor close,
a hu h fell on the men until he had put his name
to the pledge ; then they came up, man by man,
and signed. But Craig sat with his head down
till I touched his shoulder. He took my hand
and held it fast, saying over and over, under his
breath, ' Thank God, thank God 1 '

And so the League was made.

BLACK ROCK RELIGION

CHAPTER VI

BLACK ROCK RELIGION

WHEN I grow weary with the conventions of
religion, and sick in my soul from feeding upon
husks, that the churches too often offer me, in
the shape of elaborate service and eloquent dis-
courses, so that in my sickness I doubt and doubt,
then I go back to the communion in Black Rock
and the days preceding it, and the fever and
the weariness leave me, and I grow humble and
strong. The simplicity and rugged grandeur of
the faith, the humble gratitude of the rough men
I see about the table, and the calm radiance of
one saintly face, rest and recall me.

Not its most enthusiastic apologist would call
Black Rock a religious community, but it pos-
sessed in a marked degree that eminent Christian
virtue of tolerance. All creeds, all shades of
religious opinion, were allowed, and it was gener-

119

no BLACK ROCK

ally conceded that one was as good as another.
It is fair to say, however, that Black Rock's
catholicity was negative rather than positive.
The only religion objectionable was that insisted
upon as a necessity. It never occurred to any one
to consider religion other than as a respectable, if
not ornamental, addition to life in older lands.

During the weeks following the making of the
League, however, this negative attitude towards
things religious gave place to one of keen inves-
tigation and criticism. The indifference passed
away, and with it, in a large measure, the toler-
ance. Mr. Craig was responsible for the former
of these changes, but hardly, in fairness, could
he be held responsible for the latter. If any one,
more than another, was to be blamed for the
rise of intolerance in the village, that man was
Geordie Crawford. He had his ' lines ' from the
Established Kirk of Scotland, and when Mr.
Craig announced his intention of having the
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper observed, Geordie
produced his ' lines ' and promptly handed them
in. As no other man in the village was equipped
with like spiritual credentials, Geordie constituted
himself a kind of kirk-session, charged with the

BLACK ROCK RELIGION isi

double duty of guarding the entrance to the
Lord's Table, and of keeping an eye upon the
theological opinions of the community, and more
particularly upon such members of it as gave
evidence of possessing any opinions definite
enough for statement

It came to be Mr. Craig's habit to drop into
the League-room, and toward the close of the
evening to have a short Scripture lesson from
the Gospels. Geordie's opportunity came after
the meeting was over and Mr. Craig had gone
away. The men would hang about and talk the
lesson over, expressing opinions favourable or
unfavourable as appeared to them good. Then
it was that all sorts of views, religious and other-
wise, were aired and examined. The originality
of the ideas, the absolute disregard of the autho-
rity of church or creed, the frankness with which
opinions were stated, and the forcefulness of the
language in which they were expressed, combined
to make the discussions altogether marvellous.
The passage between Abe Baker, the stage-driver,
and Geordie was particularly rich. It followed
upon a very telling lesson on the parable of the
Pharisee and the Publican.

laa BLACK ROCK

The chief actors in that wonderful story
were transferred to the Black Rock stage, and
were presented in miner's costume. Abe was
particularly well pleased with the scoring of
the ' blanked old rooster who crowed so blanked
high/ and somewhat incensed at the quiet re-
mark interjected by Geordie, 'that it was nae
credit till a man tae be a sinner ' ; and when
Geordie went on to urge the importance of right
conduct and respectability, Abe was led to pour
forth vials of contemptuous wrath upon the
Pharisees and hypocrites who thought them-
selves better than other people. But Geordie
was quite unruffled, and lamented the ignorance
of men who, brought up in ' Epeescopawlyun
or Methody ' churches, could hardly be expected
to detect the Antinomian or Arminian heresies.

'Aunty Nomyun or Uncle Nomyun,' replied
Abe, boiling hot, 'my mother was a Methodist,
and I '11 back any blanked Methodist against
any blankety blank long-faced, lantern-jawed,
skinflint Presbyterian,' and this he was eager
to maintain to any man's satisfaction if he would
step outside.

Geordie was quite unmoved, but hastened to

BLACK ROCK RELIGION ia3

assure Abe that he meant no disrespect to his
mother, who he had 'nae doot was a clever
enough buddie, tae judge by her son.' Abe
was speedily appeased, and offered to set up the
drinks all round. But Geordie, with evident
reluctance, had to decline, saying, ' Na, na, lad,
I 'm a League man, ye ken,' and I was sure
that Geordie at that moment felt that member-
ship in the League had its drawbacks.

Nor was Geordie too sure of Craig's ortho-
doxy; while as to Mrs. Mavor, whose slave he
was, he was in the habit of lamenting her doctrinal
condition —

'She's a fine wumman, nae doot; but, puir
cratur, she's fair carried awa wi' the errors o*
thae Epeescopawlyuns.'

It fell to Geordie, therefore, as a sacred duty, in
view of the laxity of those who seemed to be the
pillars of the Church, to be all the more watchful
and unyielding. But he was delightfully incon-
sistent when confronted with particulars. In
conversation with him one night after one of
the meetings, when he had been specially hard
upon the ignorant and godless, I innocently
changed the subject to Billy Breen, whom

124 BLACK ROCK

Geordie had taken to his shack since the night
of the League. He was very proud of Billy's
success in the fight against whisky, the credit
of which he divided unevenly between Mrs.
Mavor and himself.

' He 's fair daft aboot her,' he explained to
me, ' an' I '11 no' deny but she 's a great help,
ay, a verra conseederable asseestance ; but, man,
she doesna ken the whusky, an' the inside o' a
man that's wantin' it Ay, puir buddie, she
diz her pairt, an' when ye 're a bit restless an'
thrawn aifter yer day's wark, it's like a walk
in a bonnie glen on a simmer eve, with the birds
HI tin' aboot, tae sit in yon roomie and hear her
sing ; but when the night is on, an' ye canna
sleep, but wauken wi' an* awfu' thurst and wi'
dreams o' cosy firesides, and the bonnie sparklin'
glosses, as it is wi' puir Billy, ay, it 's then ye
need a man wi' a guid grup beside ye.'

1 What do you do then, Geordie ? ' I asked.

' Oo ay, I juist gang for a bit walk wi' the lad,
and then pits the kettle on an' maks a cup o' tea
or coffee, an' aff he gangs tae sleep like a bairn.'

1 Poor Billy,' I said pityingly, ' there 's no hope
for him in the future, I fear.'

BLACK ROCK RELIGION 1*5

'Hoot awa, man/ said Geordie quickly. 'Ye
wadna keep oot a puir cratur frae creepin* in,
that 's daein' his best ? '

'But, Geordie/ I remonstrated, 'he doesn't
know anything of the doctrines. I don't believe
he could give us " The Chief End of Man." '

'An' wha's tae blame for that?' said Geordie,
with fine indignation. 'An' maybe you re-
member the prood Pharisee and the puir
wumman that cam' creepin' in ahint the
Maister.'

The mingled tenderness and indignation in
Geordie's face were beautiful to see, so I meekly
answered, ' Well, I hope Mr. Craig won't be too
strict with the boys.'

Geordie shot a suspicious glance at me, but
I kept my face like a summer morn, and he
replied cautiously —

' Ay, he 's no' that streect : but he maun
exerceese discreemmation.'

Geordie was none the less determined, however,
that Billy should 'come forrit'; but as to the
manager, who was a member of the English
Church, and some others who had been confirmed
years ago, and had forgotten much and denied

126 BLACK ROCK

more, he was extremely doubtful, and expressed
himself in very decided words to the minister —

' Ye '11 no' be askin' forrit thae Epeescopawlyun
buddies. They juist ken naething ava.'

But Mr. Craig looked at him for a moment
and said, ' " Him that cometh unto Me I will in
no wise cast out," ' and Geordie was silent, though
he continued doubtful

With all these somewhat fantastic features,
however, there was no mistaking the earnest
spirit of the men. The meetings grew larger
every night, and the interest became more
intense. The singing became different. The
men no longer simply shouted, but as Mr. Craig
would call attention to the sentiment of the
hymn, the voices would attune themselves to
the words. Instead of encouraging anything
like emotional excitement, Mr. Craig seemed
to fear it

'These chaps are easily stirred up,' he would
say, 'and I am anxious that they should know
exactly what they are doing. It is far too serious
a business to trifle with.'

Although Graeme did not go downstairs to the
meetings, he could not but feel the throb of the

BLACK ROCK RELIGION 127

emotion beating in the heart of the community.
I used to detail for his benefit, and sometimes
for his amusement, the incidents of each night
But I never felt quite easy in dwelling upon
the humorous features in Mrs. Mayor's presence,
although Craig did not appear to mind. His
manner with Graeme was perfect Openly
anxious to win him to his side, he did not
improve the occasion and vex him with ex-
hortation. He would not take him at a
disadvantage, though, as I afterwards found,
this was not his sole reason for his method.
Mrs. Mavor, too, showed herself in wise and
tender light. She might have been his sister,
so frank was she and so openly affectionate,
laughing at his fretful ness and soothing his
weariness.

Never were better comrades than we four, and
the bright days speeding so swiftly on drew us
nearer to one another.

But the bright days came to an end ; for
Graeme, when once he was able to go about,
became anxious to get back to the camp. And
so the last day came, a day I remember well.
It was a bright, crisp winter day.

128 BLACK ROCK

The air was shimmering in the frosty light.
The mountains, with their shining heads piercing
through light clouds into that wonderful blue of
the western sky, and their feet pushed into the
pine masses, gazed down upon Black Rock with
calm, kindly looks on their old grey faces. How
one grows to love them, steadfast old friends ! Far
up among the pines we could see the smoke of
the engine at the works, and so still and so clear
was the mountain air that we could hear the puff
of the steam, and from far down the river the
murmur of the rapids. The majestic silence, the
tender beauty, the peace, the loneliness, too, came
stealing in upon us, as we three, leaving Mrs.
Mavor behind us, marched arm-in-arm down the
street. We had not gone far on our way, when
Graeme, turning round, stood a moment looking
back, then waved his hand in farewell. Mrs.
Mavor was at her window, smiling and waving
in return. They had grown to be great friends
these two ; and seemed to have arrived at some
understanding. Certainly, Graeme's manner to
her was not that he bore to other women. His
half-quizzical, somewhat superior air of mocking
devotion gave place to a simple, earnest, almost

BLACK ROCK RELIGION 129

tender, respect, very new to him, but very
winning.

As he stood there waving his farewell, I
glanced at his face and saw for a moment what
I had not seen for years, a faint flush on Graeme's
cheek and a light of simple, earnest faith in his
eyes. It reminded me of my first look of him
when he had come up for his matriculation to the
'Varsity. He stood on the campus looking up
at the noble old pile, and there was the same
bright, trustful, earnest look on his boyish face.

I know not what spirit possessed me ; it may
have been the pain of the memory working in
me, but I said, coarsely enough, ' It 's no use,
Graeme, my boy ; I would fall in love with her
myself, but there would be no chance even
for me.'

The flush slowly darkened as he turned and
said deliberately —

' It 's not like you, Connor, to be an ass of
that peculiar kind. Love ! — not exactly ! She

won't fall in love unless ' and he stopped

abruptly with his eyes upon Craig.

But Craig met him with unshrinking gaze,
quietly remarking, ' Her heart is under the pines ' ;

I

130 BLACK ROCK

and we moved on, each thinking his own
thoughts, and guessing at the thoughts of the
others.

We were on our way to Craig's shack, and as
we passed the saloon Slavin stepped from the
door with a salutation. Graeme paused. ' Hello,
Slavin ! I got rather the worst of it, didn't I ? '

Slavin came near, and said earnestly, ' It was
a dirty thrick altogether ; you '11 not think it
was moine, Mr. Graeme.'

' No, no, Slavin ! you stood up like a man,'
said Graeme cheerfully.

'And you bate me fair; an' bedad it was a
nate one that laid me out ; an' there 's no grudge
in me heart till ye.'

' All right, Slavin ; we '11 perhaps understand
each other better after this.'

1 An' that 's thrue for yez, sor ; an' I '11 see that
your byes don't get any more than they ask for,'
replied Slavin, backing away.

'And I hope that won't be much/ put in
Mr. Craig ; but Slavin only grinned.

When we came to Craig's shack Graeme was
glad to rest in the big chair.

Craig made him a cup of tea, while I smoked,

BLACK ROCK RELIGION 131

admiring much the deft neatness of the minister's
housekeeping, and the gentle, almost motherly,
way he had with Graeme.

In our talk we drifted into the future, and
Craig let us see what were his ambitions. The
railway was soon to come ; the resources were,
as yet, unexplored, but enough was known to
assure a great future for British Columbia. As
he talked his enthusiasm grew, and carried us
away. With the eye of a general he surveyed
the country, fixed the strategic points which the
Church must seize upon. Eight good men would
hold the country from Fort Steele to the coast,
and from Kootenay to Cariboo.

'The Church must be in with the railway; she
must have a hand in the shaping of the country.
If society crystallises without her influence, the
country is lost, and British Columbia will be
another trap-door to the bottomless pit*

1 What do you propose ? ' I asked.

' Organising a little congregation here in Black
Rock.'

1 How many will you get ? '

'Don't know.'

1 Pretty hopeless business,' I said.

i3« BLACK ROCK

1 Hopeless ! hopeless ! ' he cried ; ' there were
only twelve of us at first to follow Him, and
rather a poor lot they were. But He braced
them up, and they conquered the world.1

' But surely things are different,' said Graeme.

'Things? Yes! yes! But He is the same.'
His face had an exalted look, and his eyes were
gazing into far-away places.

' A dozen men in Black Rock with some real
grip of Him would make things go. We '11 get
them, too,' he went on in growing excitement
' I believe in my soul we '11 get them.'

' Look here, Craig ; if you organise I 'd like to
join,' said Graeme impulsively. ' I don't believe
much in your creed or your Church, but I '11 be
blowed if I don't believe in you.'

Craig looked at him with wistful eyes, and
shook his head. ' It won't do, old chap, you
know. I can't hold you. You Ve got to have
a grip of some one better than I am ; and then,
besides, I hardly like asking you now ' ; he hesi-
tated— 'well, to be out-and-out, this step must
Lc taken not for my sake, nor for any man's sake,
and I fancy that perhaps you feel like pleasing
me just now a little.'

BLACK ROCK RELIGION 133

'That I do, old fellow,' said Graeme, putting
out his hand. 'I'll be hanged if I won't do
anything you say.'

' That 's why I won't say,' replied Craig. Then
reverently he addea, <The organisation is not
mine. It is my Master's.'

1 When are you going to begin ? ' asked
Graeme.

1 We shall have our communion service in two
weeks, and that will be our roll-call.'

' How many will answer ? ' I asked doubtfully.

' I know of three/ he said quietly.

' Three 1 There are two hundred miners and
one hundred and fifty lumbermen ! Three I ' and
Graeme looked at him in amazement 'You
think it worth while to organise three ? '

' Well,' replied Craig, smiling for the first time,
'the organisation won't be elaborate, but it will
be effective, and, besides, loyalty demands obedi-
ence.1

We sat long that afternoon talking, shrinking
from the breaking up ; for we knew that we were
about to turn down a chapter in our lives which
we should delight to linger over in after days.
And in my life there is but one brighter. At last

134 BLACK ROCK

\ve said good-bye and drove away ; and though
many farewells have come in between that day
and this, none is so vividly present to me as that
between us three men. Craig's manner with me
was solemn enough. ' " He that loveth his life " ;
good-bye, don't fool with this,' was what he said
to me. But when he turned to Graeme his whole
face lit up. He took him by the shoulders and
gave him a little shake, looking into his eyes, and
saying over and over in a low, sweet tone —

'You'll come, old chap, you'll come, you'll
come. Tell me you '11 come.'

And Graeme could say nothing in reply, but
only looked at him. Then they silently shook
hands, and we drove off. But long after we had
got over the mountain and into the winding forest
road on the way to the lumber-camp the voice
kept vibrating in my heart, ' You '11 come, you '11
come,' and there was a hot pain in my throat.

We said little during the drive to the camp.
Graeme was thinking hard, and made no answer
when I spoke to him two or three times, till we
came to the deep shadows of the pine forest,
when with a little shiver he said —

1 It is all a tangle — a hopeless tangle,'

BLACK ROCK RELIGION 135

1 Meaning what ? ' I asked.

1 This business of religion — what quaint varie-
ties— Nelson's, Geordie's, Billy Breen's — if he
has any — then Mrs. Mayor's — she is a saint, of
course — and that fellow Craig's. What a trump
he is ! — and without his religion he 'd be pretty
much like the rest of us. It is too much for me.'

His mystery was not mine. The Black Rock
varieties of religion were certainly startling ; but
there was undoubtedly the streak of reality
though them all, and that discovery I felt to be
a distinct gain

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK
COMMUNION

CHAPTER VII

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION

THE gleam of the great fire through the windows
of the great camp gave a kindly welcome as we
drove into the clearing in which the shanties
stood. Graeme was greatly touched at his
enthusiastic welcome by the men. At the supper-
table he made a little speech of thanks for their
faithfulness during his absence, specially com-
mending the care and efficiency of Mr. Nelson,
who had had charge of the camp. The men
cheered wildly, Baptiste's shrill voice leading all.
Nelson being called upon, expressed in a few
words his pleasure at seeing the Boss back, and
thanked the men for their support while he had
been in charge.

The men were for making a night of it ; but
fearing the effect upon Graeme, I spoke to Nelson,
who passed the word, and in a short time the
camp was quiet. As we sauntered from the grub-

t4o BLACK ROCK

camp to the office where was our bed, we paused
to take in the beauty of the night. The moon
rode high over the peaks of the mountains, flood-
ing the narrow valley with mellow light. Under
her magic the rugged peaks softened their harsh
lines and seemed to lean lovingly toward us.
The dark pine masses stood silent as in breathless
adoration ; the dazzling snow lay like a garment
over all the open spaces in soft waving folds,
and crowned every stump with a quaintly shaped
nightcap. Above the camps the smoke curled up
from the camp-fires, standing like pillars of cloud
that kept watch while men slept. And high over
all the deep blue night sky, with its star jewels,
sprang like the roof of a great cathedral from
range to range, covering us in its kindly shelter.
How homelike and safe seemed the valley with
its mountain-sides, its sentinel trees and arching
roof of jewelled skyl Even the night seemed
kindly, and friendly the stars ; and the lone cry
of the wolf from the deep forest seemed like the
voice of a comrade.

' How beautiful ! too beautiful ! ' said Graeme,
stretching out his arms. ' A night like this takes
the heart out of me,'

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 141

I stood silent, drinking in at every sense the
night with its wealth of loveliness.

' What is it I want ? ' he went on. ' Why does
the night make my heart ache ? There are things
to see and things to hear just beyond me ; I can-
not get to them.' The gay, careless look was
gone from his face, his dark eyes were wistful
with yearning.

' I often wonder if life has nothing better for
me/ he continued with his heartache voice.

I said no word, but put my arm within his. A
light appeared in the stable. Glad of a diversion,
I said, ' What is the light ? Let us go and see.'

'Sandy, taking a last look at his team, like
enough.'

We walked slowly toward the stable, speaking
no word. As we neared the door we heard the
sound of a voice in the monotone of one reading.
I stepped forward and looked through a chink
between the logs. Graeme was about to open the
door, but I held up my hand and beckoned him
to me. In a vacant stall, where was a pile of
straw, a number of men were grouped. Sandy,
leaning against the tying-post upon which the
stable-lantern hung, was reading; Nelson was

H« BLACK ROCK

kneeling in front of him and gazing into the
gloom beyond ; Baptiste lay upon his stomach,
his chin in his hands and his upturned eyes
fastened upon Sandy's face; Lachlan Campbell
sat with his hands clasped about his knees,
and two other men sat near him. Sandy was
reading the undying story of the Prodigal,
Nelson now and then stopping him to make
a remark. It was a scene I have never been
able to forget. To-day I pause in my tale,
and see it as clearly as when I looked through
the chink upon it years ago. The long, low
stable, with log walls and upright hitching-poles ;
the dim outlines of the horses in the gloom of
the background, and the little group of rough,
almost savage-looking men, with faces wondering
and reverent, lit by the misty light of the stable-
lantern.

After the reading, Sandy handed the book to
Nelson, who put it in his pocket, saying, ' That 's
for us, boys, ain't it ? '

' Ay,' said Lachlan ; ' it is often that has been
read in my hearing, but I am afraid it will not be
for me whatever/ and he swayed himself slightly
as he spoke, and his voice was full of pain.

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 143

'The minister said I might come,' said old
Nelson, earnestly and hopefully.

'Ay, but you are not Lachlan Campbell, and
you hef not had his privileges. My father was
a godly elder in the Free Church of Scotland,
and never a night or morning but we took the
Books.'

'Yes, but He said "any man,"' persisted
Nelson, putting his hand on Lachlan's knee.
But Lachlan shook his head.

1 Dat young feller,' said Baptiste ; ' wha's hees
nem, heh ? '

' He has no name. It is just a parable,' ex-
plained Sandy.

' He 's got no nem ? He 's just a parom'ble ?
Das no young feller ? ' asked Baptiste anxiously ;
' das mean noting ? '

Then Nelson took him in hand and explained
to him the meaning, while Baptiste listened even
more eagerly, ejaculating softly, ' ah, voil£ ! bon !
by gar!' When Nelson had finished he broke
out, 'Dat young feller, his name Baptiste, heh?
and de old Fadder he 's le bon Dieu ? Bon ! das
good story for me. How you go back ? You go
to de pries' ? '

144 BLACK ROCK

' The book doesn't say priest or any one else,'
said Nelson. ' You go back in yourself, you
see?'

' Non ; das so, sure nuff. Ah ! ' — as if a light
broke in upon him — 'you go in your own self.
You make one leetle prayer. You say, " Le bon
Fadder, oh ! I want come back, I so tire, so
hongree, so sorree " ? He say, " Come right 'long."
Ah ! das fuss-rate. Nelson, you make one leetle
prayer for Sandy and me.'

And Nelson lifted up his face and said :
' Father, we 're all gone far away ; we have spent
all, we are poor, we are tired of it all ; we want to
feel different, to be different ; we want to come
back. Jesus came to save us from our sins ; and
He said if we came He wouldn't cast us out, no
matter how bad we were, if we only came to
Him. Oh, Jesus Christ ' — and his old, iron face
began to work, and two big tears slowly came
from under his eyelids — ' we are a poor lot, and
I 'm the worst of the lot, and we are trying to
find the way. Show us how to get back.
Amen.'

' Bon ! ' said Baptiste. ' Das fetch Him sure ! '

Graeme pulled me away, and without a word

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 145

we went into the office and drew up to the little
stove. Graeme was greatly moved.

'Did you ever see anything like that?' he
asked. ' Old Nelson ! the hardest, savagest,
toughest old sinner in the camp, on his knees
before a lot of men ! '

' Before God,' I could not help saying, for the
thing seemed very real to me. The old man
evidently felt himself talking to some one.

'Yes, I suppose you're right,' said Graeme
doubtfully; 'but there's a lot of stuff I can't
swallow.'

'When you take medicine you don't swallow
the bottle,' I replied, for his trouble was not
mine.

' If I were sure of the medicine, I wouldn't
mind the bottle, and yet it acts well enough,' he
went on. 'I don't mind Lachlan ; he 's a Highland
mystic, and has visions, and Sandy's almost as
bad, and Baptiste is an impulsive little chap.
Those don't count much. But old man Nelson
is a cool-blooded, level-headed old fellow ; has
seen a lot of life, too. And then there 's Craig
He has a better head than I have, and is as
hot-blooded, and yet he is living and slaving

K

i46 BLACK ROCK

away in that hole, and really enjoys it There
must be something in it*

'Oh, look here, Graeme,' I burst out im-
patiently ; ' what 's the use of your talking like
that? Of course there 's something in it. There 's
everything in it The trouble with me is I can't
face the music. It calls for a life where a fellow
must go in for straight, steady work, self-denial,
»nd that sort of thing ; and I 'm too Bohemian
for that, and too lazy. But that fellow Craig
makes one feel horribly uncomfortable.'

Graeme put his head on one side, and examined
me curiously.

'I believe you're right about yourself. You
always were a luxurious beggar. But that 's not
where it catches me.'

We sat and smoked and talked of other things
for an hour, and then turned in. As I was
dropping off I was roused by Graeme's voice —

' Are you going to the preparatory service on
Friday night ? '

' Don't know,' I replied rather sleepily.

' I say, do you remember the preparatory
service at home?' There was something in his
voice that set me wide awake.

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 147

' Yes. Rather terrific, wasn't it ? But I always
felt better after it,' I replied.

'To me' — he was sitting up in bed now — 'to
me it was like a call to arms, or rather like a
call for a forlorn hope. None but volunteers
wanted. Do you remember the thrill in the old
governor's voice as he dared any but the right
stuff to come on ? '

' We '11 go in on Friday night,' I said.

And so we did. Sandy took a load of men
with his team, and Graeme and I drove in the
light sleigh.

The meeting was in the church, and over a
hundred men were present. There was some
singing of familiar hymns at first, and then Mr.
Craig read the same story as we had heard in
the stable, that most perfect of all parables, the
Prodigal Son. Baptiste nudged Sandy in delight,
and whispered something, but Sandy held his
face so absolutely expressionless that Graeme
was moved to say —

'Look at Sandy! Did you ever see such a
graven image ? Something has hit him hard.'

The men were held fast by the story. The
voice of the reader, low, earnest, and thrilling

148 BLACK ROCK

with the tender pathos of the tale, carried the
words to our hearts, while a glance, a gesture, a
movement of the body gave us the vision of it
all as he was seeing it.

Then, in simplest of words, he told us what
the story meant, holding us the while with eyes,
and voice, and gesture. He compelled us to
scorn the gay, heartless selfishness of the young
fool setting forth so jauntily from the broken
home ; he moved our pity and our sympathy for
the young profligate, who, broken and deserted,
had still pluck enough to determine to work his
way back, and who, in utter desperation, at last
gave it up ; and then he showed us the home-
coming— the ragged, heart -sick tramp, with
hesitating steps, stumbling along the dusty road,
and then the rush of the old father, his garments
fluttering, and his voice heard in broken cries.
I see and hear it all now, whenever the words
are read.

He announced the hymn, ' Just as I am,' read
the first verse, and then went on : ' There you are,
men, every man of you, somewhere on the road.
Some of you are too lazy ' — here Graeme nudged
me — ' and some of you haven't got enough yet of

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 149

the far country to come back. May there be a
chance for you when you want to come ! Men,
you all want to go back home, and when you go
you '11 want to put on your soft clothes, and you
won't go till you can go in good style ; but where
did the prodigal get his good clothes?' Quick
came the answer in Baptiste's shrill voice —

' From de old fadder ! '

No one was surprised, and the minister went
on —

' Yes ! and that 's where we must get the good,
clean heart, the good, clean, brave heart, from our
Father. Don't wait, but, just as you are, come.
Sing/

They sang, not loud, as they would ' Stand
Up,' or even 'The Sweet By and By,' but in
voices subdued, holding down the power in
them.

After the singing, Craig stood a moment gazing
down at the men, and then said quietly —

' Any man want to come ? You all might
come. We all must come.' Then, sweeping his
arm over the audience, and turning half round as
if to move off, he cried, in a voice that thrilled to
the heart's core —

ISO BLACK ROCK

' Oh ! come on ! Let 's go back ! '

The effect was overpowering. It seemed to
me that the whole company half rose to their
feet Of the prayer that immediately followed,
I only caught the opening sentence, ' Father, we
are coming back,' for my attention was suddenly
absorbed by Abe, the stage-driver, who was
sitting next me. I could hear him swearing
approval and admiration, saying to himself —

1 Ain't he a clinker ! I '11 be gee-whizzly-gol-
dusted if he ain't a malleable-iron-double-back-
action self-adjusting corn - cracker.' And the
prayer continued to be punctuated with like
admiring and even more sulphurous expletives.
It was an incongruous medley. The earnest,
reverent prayer, and the earnest, admiring pro-
fanity, rendered chaotic one's ideas of religious
propriety. The feelings in both were akin ; the
method of expression somewhat widely diverse.

After prayer, Craig's tone changed utterly. In
a quiet, matter-of-fact, businesslike way he stated
his plan of organisation, and called for all who
wished to join to remain after the benediction.
Some fifty men were left, among them Nelson,
Sandy, Lachlan Campbell, Baptiste, Shaw, Nixon,

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 151

Geordie, and Billy Breen, who tried to get out,
but was held fast by Geordie.

Graeme was passing out, but I signed him to
remain, saying that I wished 'to see the thing
out.' Abe sat still beside me, swearing disgustedly
at the fellows 'who were going back on the
preacher.' Craig appeared amazed at the number
of men remaining, and seemed to fear that some-
thing was wrong. He put before them the terms
of discipleship, as the Master put them to the
eager scribe, and he did not make them easy.
He pictured the kind of work to be done, and the
kind of men needed for the doing of it Abe
grew uneasy as the minister went on to describe
the completeness of the surrender, the intensity
of the loyalty demanded.

' That knocks me out, I reckon,' he muttered,
in a disappointed tone ; ' I ain't up to that grade.'
And as Craig described the heroism called for,
the magnificence of the fight, the worth of it,
and the outcome of it all, Abe ground out:
1 1 '11 be blanked if I wouldn't like to take a
hand, but I guess I 'm not in it.' Craig finished
by saying —

' I want to put this quite fairly. It is not any

i5* BLACK ROCK

league of mine ; you 're not joining my company ;
it is no easy business, and it is for your whole life.
What do you say? Do I put it fairly? What
do you say, Nelson ? '

Nelson rose slowly, and with difficulty began —

' I may be all wrong, but you made, it easier
for me, Mr. Craig. You said He would see me
through, or I should never have risked it. Perhaps
I am wrong,' and the old man looked troubled.
Craig sprang up.

' No ! no ! Thank God, no 1 He will see every
man through who will trust his life to Him.
Every man, no matter how tough he is, no
matter how broken.'

Then Nelson straightened himself up and
said —

'Well, sir! I believe a lot of the men would
go in for this if they were dead sure they would
get through.'

' Get through ! ' said Craig ; ' never a fear of it
It is a hard fight, a long fight, a glorious fight,'
throwing up his head, 'but every man who squarely
trusts Him, and takes Him as Lord and Master,
comes out victor ! '

' Bon ! ' said Baptiste, ' Das me. You tink

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 153

He's take me in dat fight, M'sieu Craig, heh?*
His eyes were blazing.

' You mean it ? ' asked Craig almost sternly.

1 Yes ! by gar ! ' said the little Frenchman
eagerly.

' Hear what He says, then ' ; and Craig, turning
over the leaves of his Testament, read solemnly
the words, ' Swear not at all.'

' Non ! For sure ! Den I stop him,' replied
Baptiste earnestly, and Craig wrote his name
down.

Poor Abe looked amazed and distressed, rose
slowly, and saying, 'That jars my whisky jug,'
passed out. There was a slight movement near
the organ, and glancing up I saw Mrs. Mavor
put her face hastily in her hands. The men's
faces were anxious and troubled, and Nelson said
in a voice that broke —

' Tell them what you told me, sir.' But Craig
was troubled too, and replied, 'You tell them,
Nelson ! ' and Nelson told the men the story of
how he began just five weeks ago. The old man's
voice steadied as he went on, and he grew eager
as he told how he had been helped, and how the
world was all different, and his heart seemed new.

iS4 BLACK ROCK

He spoke of his Friend as if He were some one
that could be seen out at camp, that he knew
well, and met every day.

But as he tried to say how deeply he regretted
that he had not known all this years before, the
old, hard face began to quiver, and the steady
voice wavered. Then he pulled himself together,
and said —

' I begin to feel sure He '11 pull me through —
me ! the hardest man in the mountains 1 So don't
you fear, boys. He 's all right.'

Then the men gave in their names, one by one.
When it came to Geordie's turn, he gave his
name —

' George Crawford, frae the pairish o' Kilsyth,
Scotland, an' ye '11 juist pit doon the lad's name,
Maister Craig ; he 's a wee bit fashed vyi' the dis-
coorse, but he has the root o' the maitter in him,
I doot' And so Billy Breen's name went down.

When the meeting was over, thirty-eight names
stood upon the communion roll of the Black Rock
Presbyterian Church ; and it will ever be one of
the regrets of my life that neither Graeme's name
nor my own appeared on that roll. And two
days after, when the cup went round on that first

THE FIRST BLACK ROCK COMMUNION 155

Communion Sabbath, from Nelson to Sandy, and
from Sandy to Baptiste, and so on down the line
to Billy Breen and Mrs. Mavor, and then to Abe,
the driver, whom she had by her own mystic
power lifted into hope and faith, I felt all the
shame and pain of a traitor ; and I believe in my
heart that the fire of that pain and shame burned
something of the selfish cowardice out of me, and
that it is burning still.

The last words of the minister, in the short
address after the table had been served, were low,
and sweet, and tender, but they were words of
high courage ; and before he had spoken them all,
the men were listening with shining eyes, and
when they rose to sing the closing hymn they
stood straight and stiff like soldiers on parade.

And I wished more than ever I were one of
them.

THE BREAKING OF THE
LEAGUE

CHAPTER VIII

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUB

THERE is no doubt in my mind that nature
designed me for a great painter. A railway
director interfered with that design of nature, as
he has with many another of hers, and by the
transmission of an order for mountain pieces by
the dozen, together with a cheque so large that I
feared there was some mistake, he determined me
to be an illustrator and designer for railway and
like publications. I do not like these people
ordering 'by the dozea* Why should they not
consider an artist's finer feelings ? Perhaps they
cannot understand them ; but they understand
my pictures, and I understand their cheques, and
there we are quits. But so it came that I remained
in Black Rock long enough to witness the breaking
of the League.

Looking back upon the events of that night
from the midst of gentle and decent surroundings,

160 BLACK ROCK

they now seem strangely unreal, but to me then
they appeared only natural.

It was the Good Friday ball that wrecked the
League. For the fact that the promoters of the
ball determined that it should be a ball rather
than a dance was taken by the League men as a
concession to the new public opinion in favour of
respectability created by the League. And when
the manager's patronage had been secured (they
failed to get Mrs. Mavor's), and it was further
announced that, though held in the Black Rock
Hotel ballroom — indeed, there was no other place
— refreshments suited to the peculiar tastes of
League men would be provided, it was felt to be
almost a necessity that the League should approve,
should indeed welcome, this concession to the
public opinion in favour of respectability created
by the League.

There were extreme men on both sides, of
course. 'Idaho' Jack, professional gambler, for
instance, frankly considered that the whole town
was going to unmentionable depths of propriety.
The organisation of the League was regarded by
him, and by many others, as a sad retrograde
towards the bondage of the ancient and dying

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 161

East ; and that he could not get drunk when and
where he pleased, ' Idaho,' as he was called,
regarded as a personal grievance.

But Idaho was never enamoured of the social
ways of Black Rock. He was shocked and dis-
gusted when he discovered that a ' gun ' was
decreed by British law to be an unnecessary
adornment of a card-table. The manner of his
discovery must have been interesting to behold.

It is said that Idaho was industriously pursuing
his avocation in Slavin's, with his 'gun* lying
upon the card-table convenient to his hand, when
in walked policeman Jackson, her Majesty's sole
representative in the Black Rock district. Jack-
son, ' Stonewall ' Jackson, or ' Stonewall,' as he
was called for obvious reasons, after watching the
game for a few moments, gently tapped the pistol
and asked what he used this for.

' I '11 show you in two holy minutes if you
don't light out,' said Idaho, hardly looking up,
but very angrily, for the luck was against him.
But Jackson tapped upon the table and said
sweetly —

1 You 're a stranger here. You ought to get a
guide-book and post yourself. Now, the boys

L

i6a BLACK ROCK

know I don't interfere with an innocent little
game, but there is a regulation against playing it
with guns ; so,' he added even more sweetly, but
fastening Idaho with a look from his steel-grey
eyes, ' I '11 just take charge of this/ picking up the
revolver ; ' it might go off.'

Idaho's rage, great as it was, was quite swal-
lowed up in his amazed disgust at the state of
society that would permit such an outrage upon
personal liberty. He was quite unable to play
any more that evening, and it took several drinks
all round to restore him to articulate speech.
The rest of the night was spent in retailing for
his instruction stories of the ways of Stonewall
Jackson.

Idaho bought a new ' gun,' but he wore it ' in
his clothes,' and used it chiefly in the pastime of
shooting out the lights or in picking off the heels
from the boys' boots while a stag dance was in
progress in Slavin's. But in Stonewall's presence
Idaho was a most correct citizen. Stonewall he
could understand and appreciate. He was six
feet three, and had an eye of unpleasant penetra-
tion. But this new feeling in the community for
respectability he could neither understand nor

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 163

endure. The League became the object of his
indignant aversion, and the League men of his
contempt. He had many sympathisers, and fre-
quent were the assaults upon the newly-born
sobriety of Billy Breen and others of the League.
But Geordie's watchful care and Mrs. Mayor's
steady influence, together with the loyal co-opera-
tion of the League men, kept Billy safe so far.
Nixon, too, was a marked man. It may be that
he carried himself with unnecessary jauntiness to-
ward Slavin and Idaho, saluting the former with,
' Awful dry weather ! eh, Slavin ? ' and the latter
with, ' Hello, old sport ! how 's times ? ' causing
them to swear deeply ; and, as it turned out, to
do more than swear.

But on the whole the anti-League men were in
favour of a respectable ball, and most of the
League men determined to show their apprecia-
tion of the concession of the committee to the
principles of the League in the important matter
of refreshments by attending in force.

Nixon would not go. However jauntily he
might talk, he could not trust himself, as he said,
where whisky was flowing, for it got into his nose
Mike a fish-hook into a salmon.' He was from

1 64 BLACK ROCK

Nova Scotia. For like reason, Vernon Winton,
the young Oxford fellow, would not go. When
they chaffed, his lips grew a little thinner,
and the colour deepened in his handsome face,
but he went on his way. Geordie despised the
1 hale hypothick ' as a ' daft ploy,' and the spend-
ing of five dollars upon a ticket he considered a
1 sinfu' waste o' guid siller ' ; and he warned Billy
against ' coontenancin' ony sic redeeklus non-
sense,'

But no one expected Billy to go ; although the
last two months he had done wonders for his
personal appearance, and for his position in the
social scale as well. They all knew what a fight
he was making, and esteemed him accordingly.
How well I remember the pleased pride in his
face when he told me in the afternoon of the
committee's urgent request that he should join
the orchestra with his 'cello ! It was not simply
that his 'cello was his joy and pride, but he
felt it to be a recognition of his return to
respectability.

I have often wondered how things combine at
times to a man's destruction.

Had Mr. Craig not been away at the Landing

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 165

week, had Geordie not been on the night-
shift, had Mrs. Mavor not been so occupied with
the care of her sick child, it may be Billy might
have been saved his fall.

The anticipation of the ball stirred Black Rock
and the camps with a thrill of expectant delight.
Nowadays, when I find myself forced to leave
my quiet smoke in my studio after dinner at
the call of some social engagement which I have
failed to elude, I groan at my hard lot, and I
wonder as I look back and remember the plea-
surable anticipation with which I viewed the
approaching ball. But I do not wonder now any
more than I did then at the eager delight of the
men who for seven days in the week swung their
picks up in the dark breasts of the mines, or who
chopped and sawed among the solitary silences
of the great forests. Any break in the long and
weary monotony was welcome ; what mattered
the cost or consequence! To the rudest and
least cultured of them the sameness of the life
must have been hard to bear ; but what it was
to men who had seen life in its most cultured
and attractive forms I fail to imagine. From
the mine, black and foul, to the shack, bare,

1 66 BLACK ROCK

cheerless, and sometimes hideously repulsive, life
swung in heart-grinding monotony till the long-
ing for a ' big drink ' or some other ' big break '
became too great to bear.

It was well on towards evening when Sandy's
four-horse team, with a load of men from the
woods, came swinging round the curves of the
mountain -road and down the street. A gay
crowd they were with their bright, brown faces
and hearty voices ; and in ten minutes the whole
street seemed alive with lumbermen — they had a
faculty of spreading themselves so. After night
fell the miners came down 'done up slick,' for
this was a great occasion, and they must be up
to it. The manager appeared in evening dress ;
but this was voted ' too giddy ' by the majority.

As Graeme and I passed up to the Black Rock
Hotel, in the large store-room of which the ball
was to be held, we met old man Nelson looking
very grave.

4 Going, Nelson, aren't you ? ' I said.

1 Yes,' he answered slowly ; ' I '11 drop in, though
I don't like the look of things much.'

'What's the matter, Nelson?' asked Graeme
cheerily. ' There 's no funeral on.1

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 167

* Perhaps not,' replied Nelson, ' but I wish Mr.
Craig were home.' And then he added, ' There 's
Idaho and Slavin together, and you may bet the
devil isn't far off.'

But Graeme laughed at his suspicion, and we
passed on. The orchestra was tuning up. There
were two violins, a concertina, and the 'cello.
Billy Breen was lovingly fingering his instrument,
now and then indulging himself in a little snatch
of some air that came to him out of his happier
past. He looked perfectly delighted, and as I
paused to listen he gave me a proud glance
out of his deep, little, blue eyes, and went on
playing softly to himself. Presently Shaw came
along.

'That's good, Billy/ he called out. 'You've
got the trick yet, I see.'

But Billy only nodded and went on playing.

' Where 's Nixon ? ' I asked.

'Gone to bed,' said Shaw, 'and I am glad of
it. He finds that the safest place on pay-day
afternoon. The boys don't bother him there.'

The dancing-room was lined on two sides with
beer-barrels and whisky-kegs ; at one end the
orchestra sat, at the other was a table with

1 68 BLACK ROCK

refreshments, where the 'soft drinks' might be
had. Those who wanted anything else might
pass through a short passage into the bar just
behind.

This was evidently a superior kind of ball, for
the men kept on their coats, and went through
the various figures with faces of unnatural
solemnity. But the strain upon their feelings
was quite apparent, and it became a question
how long it could be maintained. As the trips
through the passage-way became more frequent
the dancing grew in vigour and hilarity, until by
the time supper was announced the stiffness had
sufficiently vanished to give no further anxiety
to the committee.

But the committee had other cause for concern,
inasmuch as after supper certain of the miners
appeared with their coats off, and proceeded to
' knock the knots out of the floor ' in break-down
dances of extraordinary energy. These, however,
were beguiled into the bar-room and ' filled up ' for
safety, for the committee were determined that
the respectability of the ball should be preserved
to the end. Their reputation was at stake, not
in Black Rock only, but at the Landing as well,

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 169

from which most of the ladies had come ; and
to be shamed in the presence of the Landing
people could not be borne. Their difficulties
seemed to be increasing, for at this point some-
thing seemed to go wrong with the orchestra.
The 'cello appeared to be wandering aimlessly
up and down the scale, occasionally picking up
the tune with animation, and then dropping it.
As Billy saw me approaching, he drew himself
up with great solemnity, gravely winked at me,
and said —

' Shlipped a cog, Mishter Connor ! Mosh hun-
fortunate ! Beauchiful hinstrument, but shlips a
cog. Mosh hunfortunate ! '

And he wagged his little head sagely, playing all
the while for dear life, now second and now lead.

Poor Billy 1 I pitied him, but I thought chiefly
of the beautiful, eager face that leaned towards
him the night the League was made, and of the
bright voice that said, 'You'll sign with me,
Billy?' and it seemed to me a cruel deed to
make him lose his grip of life and hope ; for this
is what the pledge meant to him.

While I was trying to get Billy away to some
safe place, I heard a great shouting in the

170 BLACK ROCK

direction of the bar, followed by trampling and
scuffling of feet in the passage-way. Suddenly
a man burst through, crying —

' Let me go ! Stand back ! I know what I 'm
about ! '

It was Nixon, dressed in his best ; black clothes,
blue shirt, red tie, looking handsome enough, but
half-drunk and wildly excited. The Highland
Fling competition was on at the moment, and
Angus Campbell, Lachlan's brother, was repre-
senting the lumber camps in the contest. Nixon
looked on approvingly for a few moments, then
with a quick movement he seized the little High-
lander, swung him in his powerful arms clean off
the floor, and deposited him gently upon a beer-
barrel. Then he stepped into the centre of the
room, bowed to the judges, and began a sailor's
hornpipe.

The committee were perplexed, but after
deliberation they decided to humour the new
competitor, especially as they knew that Nixon
with whisky in him was unpleasant to cross.

Lightly and gracefully he went through his
steps, the men crowding in from the bar to
admire, for Nixon was famed for his hornpipe.

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 171

But when, after the hornpipe, he proceeded to
execute a clog-dance, garnished with acrobatic
feats, the committee interfered. There were
cries of ' Put him out ! ' and ' Let him alone !
Go on, Nixon ! ' And Nixon hurled back into
the crowd two of the committee who had laid
remonstrating hands upon him, and, standing
in the open centre, cried out scornfully —

1 Put me out ! Put me out 1 Certainly ! Help
yourselves! Don't mind me!1 Then grinding
his teeth, so that I heard them across the
room, he added with savage deliberation, ' If
any man lays a finger on me, I'll — I'll eat his
£iver cold.'

He stood for a few moments glaring round
upon the company, and then strode toward the
bar, followed by the crowd wildly yelling. The
ball was forthwith broken up. I looked around
for Billy, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Graeme touched my arm —

'There's going to be something of a time, so
just keep your eyes skinned.'

1 What are you going to do ? ' I asked

' Do ? Keep myself beautifully out of trouble,
he replied.

i;a BLACK ROCK

In a few moments the crowd came surging
back headed by Nixon, who was waving a
whisky-bottle over his head and yelling as one
possessed.

' Hello ! ' exclaimed Graeme softly, ' I begin
to see. Look there ! '

' What 's up ? ' I asked.

' You see Idaho and Slavin and their pets/ he
replied.

'They've got poor Nixon in tow. Idaho is
rather nasty,' he added, ' but I think I '11 take
a hand in this game ; I 've seen some of Idaho's
work before.'

The scene was one quite strange to me, and
was wild beyond description. A hundred men
filled the room. Bottles were passed from hand
to hand, and men drank their fill. Behind the
refreshment-tables stood the hotelman and his
barkeeper with their coats off and sleeves rolled
up to the shoulder, passing out bottles, and
drawing beer and whisky from two kegs
hoisted up for that purpose. Nixon was in his
glory. It was his night. Every man was to get
drunk at his expense, he proclaimed, flinging
down bills upon the table. Near him were some

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 173

League men he was treating liberally, and never
far away were Idaho and Slavin passing bottles,
but evidently drinking little.

I followed Graeme, not feeling too comfortable,
for this sort of thing was new to me, but admiring
the cool assurance with which he made his way
through the crowd that swayed and yelled and
swore and laughed in a most disconcerting
manner.

' Hello ! ' shouted Nixon as he caught sight of
Graeme. ' Here you are ! ' passing him a bottle.
'You're a knocker, a double-handed front-door
knocker. You polished off old whisky-soak here,
old demijohn/ pointing to Slavin, ' and I '11 lay
five to one we can lick any blankety blank
thieves in the crowd,' and he held up a roll of
bills.

But Graeme proposed that he should give the
hornpipe again, and the floor was cleared at once,
for Nixon's hornpipe was very popular, and to-
night, of course, was in high favour. In the
midst of his dance Nixon stopped short, his
arms dropped to his side, his face had a look
of fear, of horror.

There, before him, in his riding-cloak and

i74 BLACK ROCK

boots, with his whip in his hand as he had come
from his ride, stood Mr. Craig. His face was
pallid, and his dark eyes were blazing with
fierce light As Nixon stopped, Craig stepped
forward to him, and sweeping his eyes round upon
the circle he said in tones intense with scorn —

'You cowards! You get a man where he's
weak ! Cowards ! you 'd damn his soul for his
money ! '

There was dead silence, and Craig, lifting his
hat, said solemnly —

' May God forgive you this night's work ! '

Then, turning to Nixon, and throwing his arm
over his shoulder, he said in a voice broken and
husky —

' Come on, Nixon ! we '11 go ! '

Idaho made a motion as if to stop him,
but Graeme stepped quickly forward and said
sharply, 'Make way there, can't you?' and
the crowd fell back and we four passed
through, Nixon walking as in a dream, with
Craig's arm about him. Down the street we
went in silence, and on to Craig's shack, where
we found old man Nelson, with the fire blazing,
and strong coffee steaming on the stove. It was

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 175

he that had told Craig, on his arrival from the
Landing, of Nixon's fall.

There was nothing of reproach, but only
gentlest pity, in tone and touch as Craig placed
the half-drunk, dazed man in his easy-chair,
took off his boots, brought him his own slippers,
and gave him coffee. Then, as his stupor began
to overcome him, Craig put him in his own
bed, and came forth with a face written over
with grief.

' Don't mind, old chap,' said Graeme kindly.

But Craig looked at him without a word, and,
throwing himself into a chair, put his face in his
hands. As we sat there in silence the door was
suddenly pushed open and in walked Abe Baker
with the words, ' Where is Nixon ? ' and we told
him where he was. We were still talking when
again a tap came to the door, and Shaw came
in looking much disturbed.

1 Did you hear about Nixon ? ' he asked. We
told him what we knew.

' But did you hear how they got him ? ' he
asked, excitedly.

As he told us the tale, the men stood listening,
with faces growing hard.

176 BLACK ROCK

It appeared that after the making of the
League the Black Rock Hotel man had bet
Idaho one hundred to fifty that Nixon could
not be got to drink before Easter. All Idaho's
schemes had failed, and now he had only three
days in which to win his money, and the ball
was his last chance. Here again he was balked,
for Nixon, resisting all entreaties, barred his
shack door and went to bed before nightfall,
according to his invariable custom on pay-days.
At midnight some of Idaho's men came battering
at the door for admission, which Nixon reluctantly
granted. For half an hour they used every art
of persuasion to induce him to go down to the
ball, the glorious success of which was glowingly
depicted ; but Nixon remained immovable, and
they took their departure, baffled and cursing.
In two hours they returned drunk enough to
be dangerous, kicked at the door in vain, finally
gained entrance through the window, hauled
Nixon out of bed, and, holding a glass of
whisky to his lips, bade him drink. But he
knocked the glass away, spilling the liquor over
himself and the bed.

It was drink or fight, and Nixon was ready to

THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE 177

fight ; but after parley they had a drink all
round, and fell to persuasion again. The night
was cold, and poor Nixon sat shivering on the
edge of his bed. If he would take one drink they
would leave him alone. He need not show him-
self so stiff. The whisky fumes filled his nostrils.
If one drink would get them off, surely that
was better than fighting and killing some one or
getting killed. He hesitated, yielded, drank his
glass. They sat about him amiably drinking,
and lauding him as a fine fellow after all. One
more glass before they left. Then Nixon rose,
dressed himself, drank all that was left of the
bottle, put his money in his pocket, and came
down to the dance, wild with his old-time mad-
ness, reckless of faith and pledge, forgetful of
home, wife, babies, his whole being absorbed in
one great passion — to drink and drink and drink
till he could drink no more.

Before Shaw had finished his tale, Craig's eyes
were streaming with tears, and groans of rage
and pity broke alternately from him. Abe
remained speechless for a time, not trusting
himself; but as he heard Craig groan, 'Oh, the
beasts! the fiends 1' he seemed encouraged to

M

i78 BLACK ROCK

let himself loose, and he began swearing with
the coolest and most blood-curdling deliberation.
Craig listened with evident approval, apparently
finding complete satisfaction in Abe's perform-
ance, when suddenly he seemed to waken up,
caught Abe by the arm, and said in a horror-
stricken voice —

'Stop! stopl God forgive us! we must not
swear like this.'

Abe stopped at once, and in a surprised and
slightly grieved voice said —

'Why! what's the matter with that? Ain't
that what you wanted ? '

'Yes! yes! God forgive me! I am afraid
it was,' he answered hurriedly ; ' but I must
not'

' Oh, don't you worry,' went on Abe cheerfully ;
' I '11 look after that part ; and anyway, ain't they
the blankest blankety blank' — going off again
into a roll of curses, till Craig, in an agony of
entreaty, succeeded in arresting the flow of pro-
fanity possible to no one but a mountain stage-
driver. Abe paused looking hurt, and asked if
they did not deserve everything he was calling
down upon them.

THE BREAKIN'G OF THE LEAGUE 179,

*Yes, yes/ urged Craig; 'but that is not our
business.'

' Well ! so I reckoned,' replied Abe, recognising
the limitations of the cloth ; ' you ain't used to it,
and you can't be expected to do it ; but it just
makes me feel good — let out o' school like — to
properly do 'em up, the blank, blank,' and off he
went again. It was only under the pressure of
Mr. Craig's prayers and commands that he finally
agreed ' to hold in, though it was tough.'

' What 's to be done ? ' asked Shaw.

'Nothing,' answered Craig bitterly. He was
exhausted with his long ride from the Landing,
and broken with bitter disappointment over the
ruin of all that he had laboured so long to
accomplish,

' Nonsense/ said Graeme ; ' there 's a good deal
to do.'

It was agreed that Craig should remain with
Nixon while the others of us should gather up
what fragments we could find of the broken
League. We had just opened the door, when we
met a man striding up at a great pace. It was
Geordie Crawford.

1 Hae ye seen the lad ? ' was his salutation. No

i8o BLACK ROCK

one replied. So I told Geordie of my last sight
of Billy in the orchestra.

•An* did ye no' gang aifter him?' he asked in
indignant surprise, adding with some contempt,
1 Man ! but ye 're a feckless buddie.'

'Billy gone too!' said Shaw. 'They might
have let Billy alone.'

Poor Craig stood in a dumb agony. Billy's
fall seemed more than he could bear. We went
out, leaving him heart-broken amid the ruins of
his League.

THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE

CHAPTER IX
THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE

As we stood outside of Craig's shack in the dim
starlight, we could not hide from ourselves that
we were beaten. It was not so much grief as a
blind fury that filled my heart, and looking at the
faces of the men about me I read the same
feeling there. But what could we do ? The yells
of carousing miners down at Slavin's told us that
nothing could be done with them that night. To
be so utterly beaten, and unfairly, and with no
chance of revenge, was maddening.

1 1 'd like to get back at 'em,' said Abe, carefully
repressing himself.

1 1 Ve got it, men/ said Graeme suddenly. ' This
town does not require all the whisky there is in
.it'; and he unfolded his plan. It was to gain
possession of Slavin's saloon and the bar of the

Black Rock Hotel, and clear out all the liquor to

m

1 84 BLACK ROCK

be found in both these places. I did not much
like the idea ; and Geordie said, ' I 'm ga'en aifter
the lad; I'll hae naethin' tae dae wi* yon. It's
no' that easy, an' it 's a sinfu' waste/

But Abe was wild to try it, and Shaw was
quite willing, while old Nelson sternly approved.

'Nelson, you and Shaw get a couple of our
men and attend to the saloon. Slavin and the
whole gang are up at the Black Rock, so you
won't have much trouble ; but come to us as soon
as you can.'

And so we went our ways.

Then followed a scene the like of which I can
never hope to see again, and it was worth a man's
seeing. But there were times that night when I
wished I had not agreed to follow Graeme in his
plot

As we went up to the hotel, I asked Graeme,
' What about the law of this ? '

'Law!' he replied indignantly. ' They haven't
troubled much about law in the whisky business
here. They get a keg of high wines and some
drugs and begin operations. No ! ' he went on ;
'if we can get the crowd out, and ourselves in,
we '11 make them break the law in getting us out

THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 185

The law won't trouble us over smuggled whisky.
It will be a great lark, and they won't crow too
loud over the League.'

I did not like the undertaking at first ; but as
I thought of the whole wretched illegal business
flourishing upon the weakness of the men in the
mines and camps, whom I had learned to regard
as brothers, and especially as I thought of the
cowards that did for Nixon, I let my scruples go,
and determined, with Abe, ' to get back at 'em.'

We had no difficulty getting them out. Abe
began to yell. Some men rushed out to learn
the cause. He seized the foremost man, making
a hideous uproar all the while, and in three
minutes had every man out of the hotel and a
lively row going on.

In two minutes more Graeme and I had the
door to the ball-room locked and barricaded with
empty casks. We then closed the door of the
bar-room leading to the outside. The bar-room
was a strongly built log-shack, with a heavy door
secured, after the manner of the early cabins, with
two strong oak bars, so that we felt safe from
attack from that quarter.

The ball-room we could not hold long, for the

1 86 BLACK ROCK

door was slight and entrance was possible through
the windows. But as only a few casks of liquor
were left there, our main work would be in the
bar, so that the fight would be to hold the
passage-way. This we barricaded with casks
and tables. But by this time the crowd had
begun to realise what had happened, and were
wildly yelling at door and windows. With an
axe which Graeme had brought with him the
casks were soon stove in, and left to empty
themselves.

As I was about to empty the last cask, Graeme
stopped me, saying, 'Let that stand here. It
will help us.' And so it did. 'Now skip for
the barricade/ yelled Graeme, as a man came
crashing through the window. Before he could
regain his feet, however, Graeme had seized him
and flung him out upon the heads of the crowd
outside. But through the other windows men
were coming in, and Graeme rushed for the barri-
cade, followed by two of the enemy, the foremost
of whom I received at the top and hurled back
upon the others.

' Now, be quick ! ' said Graeme ; ' I '11 hold this.
Don't break any bottles on the floor — throw them

THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 187

out there,' pointing to a little window high up in
the wall.

I made all haste. The casks did not take
much time, and soon the whisky and beer were
flowing over the floor. It made me think of
Geordie's regret over the 'sinfu* waste.' The
bottles took longer, and glancing up now and
then I saw that Graeme was being hard pressed.
Men would leap, two and three at a time, upon
the barricade, and Graeme's arms would shoot
out, and over they would topple upon the heads
of those nearest. It was a great sight to see him
standing alone with a smile on his face and the
light of battle in his eye, coolly meeting his assail-
ants with those terrific, lightning-like blows. In
fifteen minutes my work was done.

' What next ? ' I asked. ' How do we get out ? '

' How is the door ? ' he replied.

I looked through the port-hole and said, 'A
crowd of men waiting.'

' We '11 have to make a dash for it, I fancy,' he
replied cheerfully, though his face was covered
with blood and his breath was coming in short
gasps.

' Get down the bars and be ready.' But even

1 88 BLACK ROCK

as he spoke a chair hurled from below caught
him on the arm, and before he could recover, a
man had cleared the barricade and was upon him
like a tiger. It was Idaho Jack.

' Hold the barricade/ Graeme called out, as
they both went down.

I sprang to his place, but I had not much hope
of holding it long. I had the heavy oak bar of
the door in my hands, and swinging it round
my head I made the crowd give back for a few
moments.

Meantime Graeme had shaken off his enemy,
who was circling about him upon his tip-toes,
with a long knife in his hand, waiting for a
chance to spring.

'I have been waiting for this for some time,
Mr. Graeme,' he said smiling.

'Yes,' replied Graeme, 'ever since I spoiled
your cut-throat game in 'Frisco. How is the
little one?' he added sarcastically.

Idaho's face lost its smile and became distorted
with fury as he replied, spitting out his words,
'She — is — where you will be before I am done
with you.'

'Ahl you murdered her tool You'll hang

THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 189

some beautiful day, Idaho,' said Graeme, as
Idaho sprang upon him.

Graeme dodged his blow and caught his fore-
arm with his left hand and held up high the
murderous knife. Back and forward they swayed
over the floor, slippery with whisky, the knife
held high in the air. I wondered why Graeme
did not strike, and then I saw his right hand hung
limp from the wrist. The men were crowding
upon the barricade. I was in despair. Graeme's
strength was going fast. With a yell of exultant
fury Idaho threw himself with all his weight upon
Graeme, who could only cling to him. They
swayed together towards me, but as they fell I
brought down my bar upon the upraised hand
and sent the knife flying across the room. Idaho's
howl of rage and pain was mingled with a shout
from below, and there, dashing the crowd to right
and left, came old Nelson, followed by Abe, Sandy,
Baptiste, Shaw, and others. As they reached the
barricade it crashed down and, carrying me with
it, pinned me fast.

Looking out between the barrels, I saw what
froze my heart with horror. In the fall Graeme
had wound his arms about his enemy and held

1 90 BLACK ROCK

him in a grip so deadly that he could not strike ;
but Graeme's strength was failing, and when I
looked I saw that Idaho was slowly dragging
both across the slippery floor to where the knife
lay. Nearer and nearer his outstretched fingers
came to the knife. In vain I yelled and struggled.
My voice was lost in the awful din, and the barri-
cade held me fast Above me, standing on a
barrel-head, was Baptiste, yelling like a demon.
In vain I called to him. My fingers could just
reach his foot, and he heeded not at all my touch.
Slowly Idaho was dragging his almost uncon-
scious victim toward the knife. His fingers were
touching the blade point, when, under a sudden
inspiration, I pulled out my penknife, opened it
with my teeth, and drove the blade into Baptiste's
foot. With a blood-curdling yell he sprang down
and began dancing round in his rage, peering
among the barrels.

' Look ! look ! ' I was calling in agony, and
pointing ; ' for heaven's sake, look ! Baptiste ! '

The fingers had closed upon the knife, the knife
was already high in the air, when, with a shriek,
Baptiste cleared the room at a bound, and, before
the knife could fall, the little Frenchman's boot

• THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 191

h«d caught the uplifted wrist, and sent the knife
flying to the wall.

Then there was a great rushing sound as of
wind through the forest, and the lights went out.
When I awoke, I found myself lying with my head
on Graeme's knees, and Baptiste sprinkling snow
on my face. As I looked up Graeme leaned over
me, and, smiling down into my eyes, he said —

'Good boy! It was a great fight, and we put
it up well ' ; and then he whispered, ' I owe you
my life, my boy.'

His words thrilled my heart through and
through, for I loved him as only men can love
men ; but I only answered —

1 1 could not keep them back.'

' It was well done,' he said ; and I felt proud.

I confess I was thankful to be so well out of
it, for Graeme got off with a bone in his wrist
broken, and I with a couple of ribs cracked ; but
had it not been for the open barrel of whisky
which kept them occupied for a time, offering
too good a chance to be lost, and for the timely
arrival of Nelson, neither of us had ever seen the
light again.

We found Craig sound asleep upon his couch.

iga BLACK ROCK

His consternation on waking to see us torn,
bruised, and bloody was laughable ; but he
hastened to find us warm water and bandages,
and we soon felt comfortable.

Baptiste was radiant with pride and light over
the fight, and hovered about Graeme and me
giving vent to his feelings in admiring French
and English expletives. But Abe was disgusted
because of the failure at Slavin's ; for when Nelson
looked in, he saw Slavin's French-Canadian wife
in charge, with her baby on her lap, and he came
back to Shaw and said, ' Come away, we can't
touch this ' ; and Shaw, after looking in, agreed
that nothing could be done. A baby held the
fort

As Craig listened to the account of the fight, he
tried hard not to approve, but he could not keep
the gleam out of his eyes ; and as I pictured
Graeme dashing back the crowd thronging the
barricade till he was brought down by the chair,
Craig laughed gently, and put his hand on
Graeme's knee. And as I went on to describe
my agony while Idaho's fingers were gradually
nearing the knife, his face grew pale and his eyes
grew wide with horror.

THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 193

^Baptiste here did the business,' I said, and the
little Frenchman nodded complacently and said —

' Dat 's me for sure.'

'By the way, how is your foot?' asked
Graeme.

' He 's fuss-rate. Dat 's what you call — one
bite of — of — dat leel bees, he 's dere, you put your
finger dere, he 's not dere ! — what you call him ? '

' Flea ! ' I suggested.

' Oui ! ' cried Baptiste. ' Dat 's one bite of flea.'

' I was thankful I was under the barrels,' I
replied, smiling.

' Oui ! Dat 's mak' me ver mad. I jump an'
swear mos' awful bad. Dat 's pardon me, M'sieu
Craig, heh ? '

But Craig only smiled at him rather sadly
' It was awfully risky,' he said to Graeme, ' and i4-
was hardly worth it. They'll get more whisky,
and anyway the League is gone.'

' Well,' said Graeme with a sigh of satisfaction,
' it is not quite such a one-sided affair as it was.'

And we could say nothing in reply, for we
could hear Nixon snoring in the next room, and
no one had heard of Billy, and there were others
of the League that we knew were even now down

i94 BLACK ROCK

at Slavin's. It was thought best that all should
remain in Mr. Craig's shack, not knowing what
might happen; and so we lay where we could
and we needed none to sing us to sleep.

When I awoke, stiff and sore, it was to find
breakfast ready and old man Nelson in charge.
As we were seated, Craig came in, and I saw that
he was not the man of the night before. His
courage had come back, his face was quiet and
his eye clear ; he was his own man again.

' Geordie has been out all night, but has failed
to find Billy,' he announced quietly.

We did not talk much ; Graeme and I worried
with our broken bones, and the others suffered
from a general morning depression. But, after
breakfast, as the men were beginning to move,
Craig took down his Bible, and saying —

' Wait a few minutes, men ! ' he read slowly,
in his beautiful clear voice, that psalm for all
fighters —

' God is our refuge and strength,'

and so on to the noble words —

'The Lord of Hosts is with us ;
The God of Jacob is our refuge.'

THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 195

How the mighty words pulled us together, lifted
us till we grew ashamed of our ignoble rage and
of our ignoble depression !

And then Craig prayed in simple, straight-
going words. There was acknowledgement of
failure, but I knew he was thinking chiefly of
himself; and there was gratitude, and that was
for the men about him, and I felt my face bum
with shame ; and there was petition for help, and
we all thought of Nixon, and Billy, and the men
wakening from their debauch at Slavin's this pure,
bright morning. And then he asked that we
might be made faithful and worthy of God, whose
battle it was. Then we all stood up and shook
hands with him in silence, and every man knew
a covenant was being made. But none saw his
meeting with Nixon. He sent us all away before
that.

Nothing was heard of the destruction of the
hotel stock-in-trade. Unpleasant questions would
certainly be asked, and the proprietor decided to
let bad alone. On the point of respectability the
success of the ball was not conspicuous, but the
anti-League men were content, if not jubilant

Billy Breen was found by Geordie late in the

196 BLACK ROCK

afternoon in his own old and deserted shack,
breathing heavily, covered up in his filthy,
mouldering bed-clothes, with a half-empty bottle
of whisky at his side. Geordie's grief and rage
were beyond even his Scotch control. He spoke
few words, but these were of such concentrated
vehemence that no one felt the need of Abe's
assistance in vocabulary.

Poor Billy ! We carried him to Mrs. Mavor's
home ; put him in a warm bath, rolled him in
blankets, and gave him little sips of hot water,
then of hot milk and coffee ; as I had seen a
clever doctor in the hospital treat a similar case
of nerve and heart depression. But the already
weakened system could not recover from the awful
shock of the exposure following the debauch ; and
on Sunday afternoon we saw that his heart was
failing fast All day the miners had been
dropping in to inquire after him, for Billy had
been a great favourite in other days, and the
attention of the town had been admiringly centred
upon his fight of these last weeks. It was with
no ordinary sorrow that the news of his con-
dition was received. As Mrs. Mavor sang to
him, his large coarse hands moved in time to the

THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 197

music, but he did not open his eyes till he heard
Mr. Craig's voice in the next room ; then he spoke
his name, and Mr. Craig was kneeling beside him
in a moment The words came slowly —

1 Oi tried — to fight it hout — but — oi got beaten.
Hit 'urts to think 'E 's hashamed o1 me. Oi'd
like t'a done better — oi would.'

' Ashamed of you, Billy ! ' said Craig, in a voice
that broke. ' Not He.'

'An' — ye hall — 'elped me so!' he went on.
' Oi wish oi 'd 'a done better — oi do,' and his
eyes sought Geordie, and then rested on Mrs.
Mavor, who smiled back at him with a world of
love in her eyes.

' You hain't hashamed o' me — yore heyes saigh
so,' he said looking at her.

1 No, Billy,' she said, and I wondered at her
steady voice, ' not a bit Why, Billy, I am proud
of you.'

He gazed up at her with wonder and ineffable
love in his little eyes, then lifted his hand slightly
toward her. She knelt quickly and took it in
both of hers, stroking it and kissing it

1 Oi haught t'a done better. Oi 'm hawful sorry
oi went back on '1m. Hit was the lemonaide.

i98 BLACK ROCK

The boys didn't mean no 'arm — but hit started
the 'ell hinside.'

Geordie hurled out some bitter words.

'Don't be 'ard on 'em, Geordie; they didn't
mean no 'arm,' he said, and his eyes kept waiting
till Geordie said hurriedly —

'Nal nal lad — a'll juist leave them till the
Almichty.'

Then Mrs. Mavor sang softly, smoothing his
hand, ' Just as I am,' and Billy dozed quietly for
half an hour.

When he awoke again his eyes turned to Mr.
Craig, and they were troubled and anxious.

' Oi tried 'ard. Oi wanted to win,' he struggled
to say. By this time Craig was master of himself,
and he answered in a clear, distinct voice—

'Listen, Billy 1 You made a great fight, and
you are going to win yet. And besides, do you
remember the sheep that got lost over the
mountains?' — this parable was Billy's special
delight — ' He didn't beat it when He got it, did
He? He took it in His arms and carried it
home. And so He will you.'

And Billy, keeping his eyes fastened on Mr.
Craig, simply said —

THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE 199

'Will'E?'

1 Sure 1 ' said Craig.

* Will 'E ? ' he repeated, turning his eyes upon
Mrs. Mavor.

1 Why, yes, Billy,' she answered cheerily, though
the tears were streaming from her eyes. 'I
would, and He loves you far more.'

He looked at her, smiled, and closed his eyes
I put my hand on his heart; it was fluttering
feebly. Again a troubled look passed over his
face.

' My — poor — hold — mother,' he whispered, 'she's
— hin — the — wukus.'

'I shall take care of her, Billy,' said Mrs.
Mavor, in a clear voice, and again Billy smiled.
Then he turned his eyes to Mr. Craig, and from
him to Geordie, and at last to Mrs. Mavor, where
they rested. She bent over and kissed him
twice on the forehead.

1 Tell 'er,' he said, with difficulty, ' 'E 's took me
'ome.'

1 Yes, Billy 1 ' she cried, gazing into his glazing
eyes. He tried to lift her hand. She kissed him
again. He drew one deep breath and lay quite
still

zoo BLACK ROCK

• ' Thank the blessed Saviour 1 ' said Mr. Craig,
reverently. ' He has taken him home.'

But Mrs. Mavor held the dead hand tight and
sobbed out passionately, 'Oh, Billy, Billy! you
helped me once when I needed help 1 I cannot
forget 1 '

And Geordie, groaning, 'Ay, laddie, laddie/
passed out into the fading light of the early
evening.

Next day no one went to work, for to all it
seemed a sacred day. They carried him into
the little church, and there Mr. Craig spoke of
his long, hard fight, and of his final victory ; for
he died without a fear, and with love to the men
who, not knowing, had been his death. And
there was no bitterness in any heart, for Mr.
Craig read the story of the sheep, and told how
gently He had taken Billy home ; but, though no
word was spoken, it was there the League was
made again.

They laid him under the pines, beside Lewis
Mavor ; and the miners threw sprigs of evergreen
into the open grave. When Slavin, sobbing
bitterly, brought his sprig, no one stopped him,
though all thought it strange.

THE LEAGUE'S REVENGE aoi

As we turned to leave the grave, the light from
the evening sun came softly through the gap in
the mountains, and, filling the valley, touched the
trees and the little mound beneath with glory.
And I thought of that other glory, which is
brighter than the sun, and was not sorry that
poor Billy's weary fight was over; and I could
not help agreeing with Craig that U HTM there
the League had its revenge.

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN

CHAPTER X

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN

BILLY BREEN'S legacy to the Black Rock mining
camp was a new League, which was more than
the old League re-made. The League was new
in its spirit and in its methods. The impression
made upon the camp by Billy Breen's death was
very remarkable, and I have never been quite able
to account for it. The mood of the community at
the time was peculiarly susceptible. Billy was one
of the oldest of the old-timers. His decline and
fall had been a long process, and his struggle for
life and manhood was striking enough to arrest
the attention and awaken the sympathy of the
whole camp. We instinctively side with a man
in his struggle for freedom; for we feel that
freedom is native to him and to us. The sudden
collapse of the struggle stirred the men with a
deep pity for the beaten man, and a deep con-

ao6 BLACK ROCK

tempt for those who had tricked him to his doom.
But though the pity and the contempt remained,
the gloom was relieved and the sense of defeat
removed from the men's minds by the trans-
forming glory of Billy's last hour. Mr. Craig,
reading of the tragedy of Billy's death, trans-
figured defeat into victory, and this was generally
accepted by the men as the true reading, though
to them it was full of mystery. But they could
all understand and appreciate at full value the
spirit that breathed through the words of the
dying man : ' Don't be 'ard on 'em, they didn't
mean no 'arm.' And this was the new spirit of
the League.

It was this spirit that surprised Slavin into
sudden tears at the grave's side. He had come
braced for curses and vengeance, for all knew it
was he who had doctored Billy's lemonade, and
instead of vengeance the message from the dead
that echoed through the voice of the living was
one of pity and forgiveness.

But the days of the League's negative, defensive
warfare were over. The fight was to the death,
and now the war was to be carried into the
enemy's country. The League men proposed a

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 207

thoroughly equipped and well-conducted coffee-
room, reading-room, and hall, to parallel the
enemy's lines of operation, and defeat them with
their own weapons upon their own ground. The
main outlines of the scheme were clearly defined
and were easily seen, but the perfecting of the
details called for all Craig's tact and good sense.
When, for instance, Vernon Winton, who had
charge of the entertainment department, came
for Craig's opinion as to a minstrel troupe
and private theatricals, Craig was prompt with
his answer —

1 Anything clean goes.'

' A nigger show ? ' asked Winton.

1 Depends upon the niggers,' replied Craig with
a gravely comic look, shrewdly adding, 'ask
Mrs. Mavor'; and so the League Minstrel and
Dramatic Company became an established fact,
and proved, as Craig afterwards told me, ' a great
means of grace to the camp.'

Shaw had charge of the social department,
whose special care it was to see that the men
were made welcome to the cosy, cheerful reading
room, where they might chat, smoke, read, write,
or play games, according to fancy.

io8 BLACK ROCK

But Craig /bit that the success or failure of the
scheme would largely depend upon the character
of the Resident Manager, who, while caring for
reading-room and hall, would control and operate
the important department represented by the
coffee-room.

' At this point the whole business may come to
grief/ he said to Mrs. Mavor, without whose
counsel nothing was done.

'Why come to grief?' she asked brightly.

1 Because if we don't get the right man, that 's
what will happen/ he replied in a tone that
spoke of anxious worry.

'But we shall get the right man, never fear.'
Her serene courage never faltered. 'He will
come to us/

Craig turned and gazed at her in frank admira-
tion and said —

' If I only had your courage I*

' Courage 1 ' she answered quickly. ' It is not
for you to say that ' ; and at his answering look
the red came into her cheek and the depths in
her eyes glowed, and I marvelled and wondered,
looking at Craig's cool face, whether his blood
were running evenly through his veins. But his

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 209

voice was quiet, a shade too quiet I thought, as
he gravely replied —

4 1 would often be a coward but for the shame
of it'

And so the League waited for the man to
come, who was to be Resident Manager and
make the new enterprise a success. And come
he did ; but the manner of his coming was so
extraordinary, that I have believed in the doctrine
of a special providence ever since ; for as Craig
said, ' If he had come straight from Heaven I
could not have been more surprised.'

While the League was thus waiting, its interest
centred upon Slavin, chiefly because he represented
more than any other the forces of the enemy ;
and though Billy Breen stood between him and
the vengeance of the angry men who would have
made short work of him and his saloon, nothing
could save him from himself, and after the funeral
Slavin went to his bar and drank whisky as he
had never drunk before. But the more he drank
the fiercer and gloomier he became, and when the
men drinking with him chaffed him, he swore
deeply and with such threats that they left him
alone.

aio BLACK ROCK

It did not help Slavin either to have Nixon
stride in through the crowd drinking at his bar
and give him words of warning.

' It is not your fault, Slavin,' he said in slow,
cool voice, 'that you and your precious crew
didn't sent me to my death, too. You've won
your bet, but I want to say, that next time, though
you are seven to one, or ten times that, when any
of you boys offer me a drink I '11 take you to
mean fight, and I '11 not disappoint you, and
some one will be killed,' and so saying he strode
out again, leaving a mean-looking crowd of men
behind him. All who had not been concerned in
the business at Nixon's shack expressed approval
of his position, and hoped he would 'see it
through.'

But the impression of Nixon's words upon
Slavin was as nothing compared with that made
by Geordie Crawford. It was not what he said
so much as the manner of awful solemnity he
carried. Geordie was struggling conscientiously
to keep his promise to ' not be 'ard on the boys/
and found considerable relief in remembering
that he haJ agreed 'to leave them tae the
Almichty.' But the manner of leaving them was

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN sn

so solemnly awful, that I could not wonder that
Slavin's superstitious Irish nature supplied him
with supernatural terrors. It was the second day
after the funeral that Geordie and I were walking
towards Slavin's. There was a great shout of
laughter as we drew near.

Geordie stopped short, and saying, ' We'll juist
gang in a meenute,' passed through the crowd
and up to the bar.

' Michael Slavin,' began Geordie, and the men
stared in dead silence, with their glasses in their
hands. ' Michael Slavin, a' promised the lad a'd
bear ye nae ill wull, but juist leave ye tae the Al-
michty ; an' I want tae tell ye that a'm keepin'
ma wur-r-d. But ' — and here he raised his hand,
and his voice became preternaturally solemn —
' his bluid is upon yer han's. Do ye no' see it ? '

His voice rose sharply, and as he pointed,
Slavin instinctively glanced at his hands, and
Geordie added —

'Ay, and the Lord will require it o' you and
yer hoose.'

They told me that Slavin shivered as if
taken with ague after Geordie went out, and
though he laughed and swore, he did not stop

£ia BLACK ROCK

drinking till he sank into a drunken stupor and
had to be carried to bed. His little French-
Canadian wife could not understand the change
that had come over her husband.

'He's like one bear/ she confided to Mrs.
Mavor, to whom she was showing her baby of a
year old. 'He's not kees me one tarn dis day.
He 's mos hawful bad, he 's not even look at de
baby.' And this seemed sufficient proof that
something was seriously wrong ; for she went on
to say —

' He 's tink more for dat leel baby dan for de
whole worl' ; he 's tink more for dat baby dan for
me,' but she shrugged her pretty little shoulders
in deprecation of her speech.

'You must pray for him,' said Mrs. Mavor,
1 and all will come right.'

'Ah! madame!' she replied earnestly, 'every
day, every day, I pray la sainte Vierge et tous les
saints for him.'

' You must pray to your Father in heaven for
him/

' Ah 1 oui 1 I weel pray,' and Mrs. Mavor sent
her away bright with smiles, and with new hope
and courage in her heart

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 213

She had very soon need of all her courage, for
at the week's end her baby fell dangerously ill.
Slavin's anxiety and fear were not relieved much
by the reports the men brought him from time to
time of Geordie's ominous forebodings ; for
Geordie had no doubt but that the Avenger of
Blood was hot upon Slavin's trail ; and as the
sickness grew, he became confirmed in this con-
viction. While he could not be said to find
satisfaction in Slavin's impending affliction, he
could hardly hide his complacency in the
promptness of Providence in vindicating his
theory of retribution.

But Geordie's complacency was somewhat
rudely shocked by Mr. Craig's answer to his
theory one day.

'You read your Bible to little profit, it seems
to me, Geordie : or, perhaps, you have never read
the Master's teaching about the Tower of Siloam.
Better read that and take that warning to your-
self.'

Geordie gazed after Mr. Craig as he turned
away, and muttered —

'The toor o' Siloam, is it? Ay, a' ken fine
aboot the toor o' Siloam, and aboot the^toor o'

a 14 BLACK ROCK

Babel as weel ; an' a've read, too, about the
blaspheemious Herod, an' sic like. Man, but
he's a hot-heided laddie, and lacks discreem-
eenation.'

1 What about Herod, Geordie ? ' I asked.

1 Aboot Herod ? ' — with a strong tinge of con-
tempt in his tone. 'Aboot Herod? Man, hae
ye no' read in the Screepturs aboot Herod an*
the wur-r-ms in the wame o' him ? '

' Oh yes, I see,' I hastened to answer.

' Ay, a fule can see what 's flapped in his face/
with which bit of proverbial philosophy h*
suddenly left me. But Geordie thenceforth con-
tented himself, in Mr. Craig's presence at least.
with ominous head-shakings, equally aggravaliog,
and impossible to answer.

That same night, however, Geordie showed
that with all his theories he had a man's true
heart, for he came in haste to Mrs. Mavor to say :

' Ye '11 be needed ower yonder, a'm thinkinV •

'Why? Is the baby worse? Have you
been in ? '

'Na, na/ replied Geordie cautiously, 'a'll no
gang where a'm no wanted. But yon puir thing,
ye can hear ootside weepin* and moaninV

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN ai$

'She'll maybe need ye tae,' he went on
dubiously to me. ' Ye 're a kind o' doctor, a' hear,'
not committing himself to any opinion as to my
professional value. But Slavin would have none
of me, having got the doctor sober enough to
prescribe.

The interest of the camp in Slavin was greatly
increased by the illness of his baby, which was
to him as the apple of his eye. There were a few
who, impressed by Geordie's profound convictions
upon the matter, were inclined to favour the
retribution theory, and connect the baby's illness
with the vengeance of the Almighty. Among
these few was Slavin himself, and goaded by his
remorseful terrors he sought relief in drink. But
this brought him only deeper and fiercer gloom ;
so that between her suffering child and her
savagely despairing husband, the poor mother
was desperate with terror and grief.

'Ah! madame/ she sobbed to Mrs. Mavor,
'my heart is broke for him. He's heet noting
for tree days, but jis dreenk, dreenk, dreenk.'

The next day a man came for me in haste.
The baby was dying and the doctor was drunk.
I found the little one in a convulsion lying across

ai6 BLACK ROCK

Mrs. Mayor's knees, the mother kneeling beside
it, wringing her hands in a dumb agony, and
Slavin standing near, silent and suffering. I
glanced at the bottle of medicine upon the table
and asked Mrs. Mavor the dose, and found the
baby had been poisoned. My look of horror told
Slavin something was wrong, and striding to me
he caught my arm and askea —

'What is it? Is the medicine wrong?

I tried to put him off, but his grip tightened
till his fingers seemed to reach the bone,

1 The dose is certainly too large ; but let me go,
I must do something.'

He let me go at once, saying in a voice that
made my heart sore for him, ' He has killed my
baby; he has killed my baby.' And then he
cursed the doctor with awful curses, and with a
look of such murderous fury on his face that I was
glad the doctor was too drunk to appear.

His wife hearing his curses, and understanding
the cause, broke out into wailing hard to bear.

'Ah! mon petit ange! It is dat wheeskey
dat 's keel mon baby. Ah ! mon cheri, mon
amour. Ah ! mon Dieu I Ah, Michael, how often
I say that wheeskey he 's not good ting.'

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 117

It was more than Slavin could bear, and with
awful curses he passed out Mrs. Mavor laid the
baby in its crib, for the convulsion had passed
away ; and putting her arms about the wailing
little Frenchwoman, comforted and soothed her
as a mother might her child.

'And you must help your husband/ I heard
her say. ' He will need you more than ever.
Think of him.'

'Ah! ouil I weel,1 was the quick reply, and
from that moment there was no more wailing.

It seemed no more than a minute till Slavin
came in again, sober, quiet, and steady; the
passion was all gone from his face, and only the
grief remained.

As we stood leaning over the sleeping child the
little thing opened its eyes, saw its father, and
smiled. It was too much for him. The big man
dropped on his knees with a dry sob.

'Is there no chance at all, at all?' he whispered,
but I could give him no hope. He immediately
rose, and pulling himself together, stood perfectly
quiet.

A new terror seized upon the mother.

1 My baby is not — what you call it ? f going

ai8 BLACK ROCK

through the form of baptism. ' An* he will not
come to la sainte Vierge,' she said, crossing her-
self.

'Do not fear for your little one,' said Mrs.
Mavor, still with her arms about her. ' The good
Saviour will take your darling into His own arms.'

But the mother would not be comforted by
this. And Slavin too, was uneasy.

•Where is Father Goulet?' he asked.

' Ah ! you were not good to the holy pere de
las tarn, Michael,' she replied sadly. ' The saints
are not please for you.1

I Where is the priest ? ' he demanded.

'I know not for sure. At de Landin', dat's
lak.'

I 1 '11 go for him,' he said. But his wife clung
to him, beseeching him not to leave her, and
indeed he was loth to leave his little one.

I found Craig and told him the difficulty.
With his usual promptness, he was ready with
a solution.

'Nixon has a team. He will go.' Then he
added, ' I wonder if they would not like me to
baptize their little one. Father Goulet and I
have exchanged offices before now. I remember

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN aig

how he came to one of my people in my absence,
when she was dying, read with her, prayed with
her, comforted her, and helped her across the river.
He is a good soul, and has no nonsense about
him. Send for me if you think there is need. It
will make no difference to the baby, but it will
comfort the mother.'

Nixon was willing enough to go ; but when he
came to the door Mrs. Mavor saw the hard look
in his face. He had not forgotten his wrong, for
day by day he was still fighting the devil within
that Slavin had called to life. But Mrs. Mavor,
under cover of getting him instructions, drew him
into the room. While listening to her, his eyes
wandered from one to the other of the group till
they rested upon the little white face in the crib.
She noticed the change in his face.

'They fear the little one will never see the
Saviour if it is not baptized,' she said, in a low
tone.

He was eager to go.

1 1 '11 do my best to get the priest,' he said, and
was gone on his sixty miles' race with death.

The long afternoon wore on, but before it was
half gone I saw Nixon could not win, and that

220 BLACK ROCK

the priest would be too late, so I sent for Mr.
Craig. From the moment he entered the room
he took command of us all. He was so simple,
so manly, so tender, the hearts of the parents
instinctively turned to him.

As he was about to proceed with the baptism,
the mother whispered to Mrs. Mavor, who hesitat-
ingly asked Mr. Craig if he would object to using
holy water.

' To me it is the same as any other,' he replied
gravely.

' An' will he make the good sign ? ' asked the
mother timidly.

And so the child was baptized by the Presby-
terian minister with holy water and with the sign
of the cross. I don't suppose it was orthodox,
and it rendered chaotic some of my religious
notions, but I thought more of Craig that moment
than ever before. He was more man than minister,
or perhaps he was so good a minister that day
because so much a man. As he read about the
Saviour and the children and the disciples who
tried to get in between them, and as he told us
the story in his own simple and beautiful way,
and then went on to picture the home of the little

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 221

children, and the same Saviour in the midst of
them, I felt my heart grow warm, and I could
easily understand the cry of the mother —

* Oh, mon Je"su, prenez moi aussi, take me wiz
mon mignon.'

The cry wakened Slavin's heart, and he said
huskily—

'Oh! Annette! Annette!'

'Ah, oui ! an* Michael too ! ' Then to Mr.
Craig—

' You tink He 's tak me some day ? Eh ? '

'All who love Him,' he replied.

' An' Michael too ? ' she asked, her eyes search-
ing his face. ' An* Michael too ? '

But Craig only replied : ' All who love Him.'

' Ah, Michael, you must pray le bon Je'su. He 's
garde notre mignon.' And then she bent over
the babe, whispering —

' Ah, mon cheri, mon amour, adieu I adieu !
mon ange ! ' till Slavin put his arms about her
and took her away, for as she was whispering her
farewells, her baby, with a little answering sigh,
passed into the House with many rooms.

' Whisht, Annette darlin' ; don't cry for the
baby,' said her husband. 'Shure it's better off

22* BLACK ROCK

than the rest av us, it is. An' didn't ye hear what
the minister said about the beautiful place it is?
An' shure he wouldn't lie to us at all.' But a
mother cannot be comforted for her first-born son.

An hour later Nixon brought Father GouleL
He was a little Frenchman with gentle manners
and the face of a saint. Craig welcomed him
warmly, and told him what he had done.

' That is good, my brother,' he said, with gentle
courtesy, and, turning to the mother, ' Your little
one is safe.'

Behind Father Goulet came Nixon softly, and
gazed down upon the little quiet face, beautiful
with the magic of death. Slavin came quietly
and stood beside him. Nixon turned and offered
his hand. But Slavin said, moving slowly back —

' I did ye a wrong, Nixon, an' it 's a sorry man
I am this day for it*

'Don't say a word, Slavin,' answered Nixon,
hurriedly. * I know how you feel I 've got a
baby too. I want to see it again. That 's why
the break hurt me so.'

'As God's above,' replied Slavin earnestly, Til
hinder ye no more.' They shook hands, and we
passed out

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 223

We laid the baby under the pines, not far from
Billy Breen, and the sweet spring wind blew
through the Gap, and came softly down the
valley, whispering to the pines and the grass and
the hiding flowers of the New Life coming to the
world. And the mother must have heard the
whisper in her heart, for, as the Priest was saying
the words of the Service, she stood with Mrs.
Mavor's arms about her, and her eyes were looking
far away beyond the purple mountain-tops, seeing
what made her smile. And Slavin, too, looked
different. His very leatures seemed finer. The
coarseness was gone out of his face. What had
come to him I could not tell.

But when the doctor came into Slavin's house
that night it was the old Slavin I saw, but with
a look of such deadly fury on his face that I
tried to get the doctor out at once. But he
was half drunk and after his manner was
hideously humorous.

' How do, ladies ! How do, gentlemen ! ' was his
loud-voiced salutation. 'Quite a professional
gathering, clergy predominating. Lion and Lamb
too, ha! ha! which is the lamb, eh? ha! ha!
very good ! awfully sorry to hear of your loss,

224 BLACK ROCK

Mrs. Slavin ; did our best you know, can 't help
this sort of thing.1

Before any one could move, Craig was at his
side, and saying in a clear, firm voice, 'One
moment, doctor,' caught him by the arm and
had him out of the room before he knew it
Slavin, who had been crouching in his chair
with hands twitching and eyes glaring, rose and
followed, still crouching as he walked. I hurried
after him, calling him back. Turning at my voice,
the doctor saw Slavin approaching. There was
something so terrifying in his swift noiseless
crouching motion, that the doctor, crying out
in fear 'Keep him off,' fairly turned and fled.
He was too late. Like a tiger Slavin leaped
upon him and without waiting to strike had
him by the throat with both hands, and bearing
him to the ground, worried him there as a dog
might a cat.

Immediately Craig and I were upon him,
but though we lifted him clear off the ground
we could not loosen that two-handed strang-
ling grip. As we were struggling there a light
hand touched my shoulder. It was Father
Goulet.

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN 125

1 Please let him go, and stand away from us,'
he said, waving us back. We obeyed. He
leaned over Slavin and spoke a few words to
him. Slavin started as if struck a heavy blow,
Soked up at the priest with fear in his face, but
still keeping his grip.

' Let him go,' said the priest. Slavin hesitated.
' Let him go ! quick 1 ' said the priest again, and
Slavin with a snarl let go his hold and stood
sullenly facing the priest.

Father Goulet regarded him steadily for some
seconds and then asked —

' What would you do ? ' His voice was gentle
enough, even sweet, but there was something in
it that chilled my marrow. 'What would you
do ? ' he repeated.

' He murdered my child/ growled Slavia

'Ah! how?'

' He was drunk and poisoned him.'

'Ah! who gave him drink? Who made him
a drunkard two years ago? Who has wrecked
his life?1

There was no answer, and the even-toned voice
went relentlessly on —

1 Who is the murderer of your child now ? '
P

226 BLACK ROCK

Slavin groaned and shuddered.

' Go ! ' and the voice grew stern. ' Repent of
your sin and add not another.'

Slavin turned his eyes upon the motionless
figure on the ground and then upon the priest.
Father Goulet took one step towards him, and,
stretching out his hand and pointing with his
finger, said —

'Gol'

And Slavin slowly backed away and went into
his house. It was an extraordinary scene, and
it is often with me now : the dark figure on the
ground, the slight erect form of the priest with
outstretched arm and finger, and Slavin backing
away, fear and fury struggling in his face.

It was a near thing for the doctor, however,
and two minutes more of that grip would have
done for him. As it was, we had the greatest
difficulty in reviving him.

What the priest did with Slavin after getting
him inside I know not ; that has always been
a mystery to me. But when we were passing
the saloon that night after taking Mrs. Mavor
home, we saw a light and heard strange sounds
within. Entering, we found another whisky

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN aa;

raid In progress, Slavin himself being the raider.
We stood some moments watching him knocking
in the heads of casks and emptying bottles. I
thought he had gone mad, and approached him
cautiously.

1 Hello, Slavin ! ' I called out ; * what does this
mean ? '

He paused in his strange work, and I saw that
his face, though resolute, was quiet enough.

' It means I 'm done wid the business, I am,'
he said, in a determined voice. ' I '11 help no
more to kill any man, or,' in a lower tone, ' any
man's baby.' The priest's words had struck home.

' Thank God, Slavin ! ' said Craig, offering his
hand ; ' you are much too good a man for the
business.'

'Good or bad, I'm done wid it,' he replied,
going on with his work.

1 You are throwing away good money, Slavin,'
I said, as the head of a cask crashed in.

'It's meself that knows it, for the price of
whisky has riz in town this week,' he answered,
giving me a look out of the corner of his eye.
' Bedad ! it was a rare clever job,' referring to our
Black Rock Hotel affair.

328 BLACK ROCK

' But won't you be sorry for this ? ' asked Craig.

'Beloike I will; an* that's why I'm doin' it
before I 'm sorry for it,' he replied, with a de-
lightful bull.

1 Look here, Slavin,' said Craig earnestly ; ' if
I can be of use to you in any way, count on me.'

' It 's good to me the both of yez have been, an'
I'll not forget it to yez,' he replied, with like
earnestness.

As we told Mrs. Mavor that night, for Craig
thought it too good to keep, her eyes seemed
to grow deeper and the light in them to glow
more intense as she listened to Craig pouring
out his tale. Then she gave him her hand and
said —

' You have your man at last'

' What man ? '

1 The man you have been waiting for/

' Slavin 1'

•Why not?'

' I never thought of it'

1 No more did he, nor any of us.' Then, after
a pause, she added gently, ' He has been sent to
us.'

1 Do you know, I believe you are right* Craig

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN *a9

said slowly, and then added, 'But you always
are.'

1 1 fear not,1 she answered ; but I thought she
liked to hear his words.

The whole town was astounded next morning
when Slavin went to work in the mines, and its
astonishment only deepened as the days went on,
and he stuck to his work. Before three weeks
had gone the League had bought and remodelled
the saloon and had secured Slavin as Resident
Manager.

The evening of the reopening of Slavin's
saloon, as it was still called, was long remembered
in Black Rock. It was the occasion of the first
appearance of 'The League Minstrel and Dra-
matic Troupe,' in what was described as a ' hair-
lifting tragedy with appropriate musical selections.1
Then there was a grand supper and speeches and
great enthusiasm, which reached its climax when
Nixon rose to propose the toast of the evening —
1 Our Saloon.' His speech was simply a quiet,
manly account of his long struggle with the
deadly enemy. When he came to speak of his
recent defeat he said —

' And while I am blaming no one but myself, I

230 BLACK ROCK

am glad to-night that this saloon is on our side,
for my own sake and for the sake of those who
have been waiting long to see me. But before I
sit down I want to say that while I live I shall
not forget that I owe my life to the man that
took me that night to his own shack and put me
in his own bed, and met me next morning with
an open hand ; for I tell you I had sworn to God
that that morning would be my last.'

Geordie's speech was characteristic. After a
brief reference to the 'mysteerious ways o'
Providence/ which he acknowledged he might
sometimes fail to understand, he went on to
express his unqualified approval of the new
saloon.

'It's a cosy place, an' there's nae sulphur
aboot. Besides a' that,' he went on enthusi-
astically, ' it '11 be a terrible savin'. I 've juist
been coontin'.'

'You bet!' ejaculated a voice with great
emphasis.

' I 've juist been coontin',' went on Geordie,
ignoring the remark and the laugh which followed,
1 an' it 's an awfu'-like money ye pit ower wi' the
whusky. Ye see ye canna dae wi' ane bit glass ;

WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN §31

ye maun hae twa or three at the verra least, for
it 's no verra forrit ye get wi' ane glass. But wi'
yon coffee ye juist get a saxpence-worth an' ye
want nae mair.1

There was another shout of laughter, which
puzzled Geordie much.

1 1 dinna see the jowk, but I 've slippit ower in
whusky mair nor a hunner dollars.'

Then he paused, looking hard before him, and
twisting his face into extraordinary shapes till the
men looked at him in wonder.

'I'm rale glad o' this saloon, but it's ower
late for the lad that canna be helpit the noo.
He'll not be needin* help o' oors, I doot, but
there are ithers ' — and he stopped abruptly and
sat down, with no applause following.

But when Slavin, our saloon-keeper, rose to
reply, the men jumped up on the seats and yelled
till they could yell no more. Slavin stood,
evidently in trouble with himself, and finally
broke out —

'It's spacheless I am entirely. What's come
to me I know not, nor how it 's come. But I '11
do my best for yez.' And then the yelling broke
out again.

132 BLACK ROCK

I did not yell myself. I was too busy watching
the varying lights in Mrs. Mayor's eyes as she
looked from Craig to the yelling men on the
benches and tables, and then to Slavin, and I
found myself wondering If she knew what it was
that came to Slavia

THE TWO CALLS

CHAPTER XI

THE TWO CALLS

WITH the call to Mr. Craig I fancy I had some-
thing to do myself. The call came from a young
congregation in an eastern city, and was based
partly upon his college record and more upon the
advice of those among the authorities who knew
his work in the mountains. But I flatter myself
that my letters to friends who were of importance
in that congregation were not without influence,
for I was of the mind that the man who could
handle Black Rock miners as he could was ready
for something larger than a mountain mission.
That he would refuse I had not imagined, though
I ought to have known him better. He was
but little troubled over it He went with the call
and the letters urging his acceptance to Mrs.
Mavor. I was putting the last touches to some of
my work in the room at the back of Mrs. Mayor's

236 BLACK ROCK

house when he came in. She read the letters
and the call quietly, and waited for him to speak.

'Well?' he said ; ' should I go?f

She started, and grew a little pale. His question
suggested a possibility that had not occurred to
her. That he could leave his work in Black Rock
she had hitherto never imagined ; but there was
other work, and he was fit for good work anywhere.
Why should he not go? I saw the fear in her
face, but I saw more than fear in her eyes, as for
a moment or two she let them rest upon Craig's
face. I read her story, and I was not sorry for
either of them. But she was too much a woman
to show her heart easily to the man she loved,
and her voice was even and calm as she answered
his question.

' Is this a very large congregation ? *

' One of the finest in all the East,' I put in for
him. ' It will be a great thing for Craig.'

Craig was studying her curiously. I think she
noticed his eyes upon her, for she went on even
more quietly—

1 It will be a great chance for work, and you
are able for a larger sphere, you know, than poor
Black Rock affords.'

THE TWO CALLS tj7

1 Who will take Black Rock ? ' he asked

1 Let some other fellow have a try at it,' I said.
'Why should you waste your talents here?'

1 Waste ? ' cried Mrs. Mavor indignantly.

•Well, "bury," if you like it better,' I replied

' It would not take much of a grave for that
funeral/ said Craig, smiling.

'Oh/ said Mrs. Mavor, 'you will be a great
man I know, and perhaps you ought to go
now.'

But he answered coolly : ' There are fifty men
wanting that Eastern charge, and there is only
one wanting Black Rock, and I don't think Black
Rock is anxious for a change, so I have deter-
mined to stay where I am yet a while.*

Even my deep disgust and disappointment did
not prevent me from seeing the sudden leap of
joy in Mrs. Mayor's eyes, but she, with a great
effort, answered quietly —

' Black Rock will be very glad, and some of us
very, very glad.'

Nothing could change his mind. There was
no one he knew who could take his place just
now, and why should he quit his work? It
annoyed me considerably to feel he was right

*3» BLACK ROCK

Why is it that the right things are so frequently
unpleasant?

And if I had had any doubt about the matter
next Sabbath evening would have removed it.
For the men came about him after the service
and let him feel in their own way how much they
approved his decision, though the self-sacrifice
involved did not appeal to them. They were too
truly Western to imagine that any inducements
the East could offer could compensate for his loss
of the West. It was only fitting that the West
should have the best, and so the miners took
almost as a matter of course, and certainly as
their right, that the best man they knew should
stay with them. But there were those who knew
how much of what most men consider worth
while he had given up, and they loved him no
less for it

Mrs. Mavor's call was not so easily disposed of.
It came close upon the other, and stirred Black
Rock as nothing else had ever stirred it before.

I found her one afternoon gazing vacantly at
some legal documents spread out before her on
the table, and evidently overcome by their con-
tents. There was first a lawyer's letter informing

THE TWO CALLS t39

her that by the death of her husband's father she
had come into the whole of the Mavor estates,
and all the wealth pertaining thereto. The letter
asked for instructions, and urged an immediate
return with a view to a personal superintendence
of the estates. A letter, too, from a distant
cousin of her husband urged her immediate
return for many reasons, but chiefly on account
of the old mother who had been left alone with
none nearer of kin than himself to care for her
and cheer her old age.

With these two came another letter from her
mother-in-law herself. The crabbed, trembling
characters were even more eloquent than the
words with which the letter closed.

'I have lost my boy, and now my husband
is gone, and I am a lonely woman. I have
many servants, and some friends, but none near
to me, none so near and dear as my dead son's
wife. My days are not to be many. Come to
me, my daughter ; I want you and Lewis's child.'

' Must I go?' she asked with white lips.

' Do you know her well ? ' I asked.

' I only saw her once or twice,' she answered ;
'but she has been very good to me.'

240 BI -iCK ROCK

'She can hardly need you. She has friends.
And surely you are needed here,'

She looked at me eagerly.

' Do you think so ? ' she said.

'Ask any man in the camp — Shaw, Nixon,
young Winton, Geordie. Ask Craig,' I replied.

4 Yes, he will tell me,' she said.

Even as she spoke Craig came up the steps. I
passed into my studio and went on with my work,
for my days at Black Rock were getting few, and
many sketches remained to be filled in.

Through my open door I saw Mrs. Mavor lay
her letters before Mr. Craig, saying, ' I have a call
too.' They thought not of me.

He went through the papers, carefully laid
them down without a word while she waited
anxiously, almost impatiently, for him to speak.

' Well ? ' she asked, using his own words to her ;
'should I go?'

'I do not know/ he replied; 'that is for you
to decide — you know all the circumstances/

« The letters tell all.' Her tone carried a feel-
ing of disappointment He did not appear to
care.

' The estates are large ? ' he asked.

THE TWO CALLS 141

' Yes, large enough — twelve thousand a year.'

'And has your mother-in-law any one with
her?'

' She has friends, but, as she says, none near of
kin. Her nephew looks after the works — iron
works, you know — he has shares in them.*

'She is evidently very lonely,' he answered
gravely.

'What shall I do?' she asked, and I knew she
was waiting to hear him urge her to stay ; but he
did not see, or at least gave no heed.

'I cannot say,' he repeated quietly. 'There
are many things to consider ; the estates '

' The estates seem to trouble you,' she replied,
almost fretfully. He looked up in surprise. I
wondered at his slowness.

'Yes, the estates,' he went on, 'and tenants,
I suppose — your mother-in-law, your little Mar-
jorie's future, your own future.'

'The estates are in capable hands, I should
suppose,' she urged, ' and my future depends upon
what I choose my work to be.'

' But one cannot shift one's responsibilities,' he
replied gravely. 'These estates, these tenants,
have come to you, and with them come duties.'

Q

*4» BLACK ROCK

1 1 do not want them,' she cried.

'That life has great possibilities of good,' he
said kindly.

' I had thought that perhaps there was work
for me here,' she suggested timidly.

' Great work,' he hastened to say. ' You have
done great work. But you will do that wherever
you go. The only question is where your work lies.'

1 You think I should go/ she said suddenly and
a little bitterly.

' I cannot bid you stay,' he answered steadily.

1 How can I go ? ' she cried, appealing to him.
'Must I go?'

How he could resist that appeal I could not
understand. His face was cold and hard, and his
voice was almost harsh as he replied —

' If it is right, you will go — you must go/

Then she burst forth —

'I cannot go. I shall stay here. My work is
here ; my heart is here. How can I go ? You
thought it worth your while to stay here and
work, why should not I ? '

The momentary gleam in his eyes died out,
and again he said coldly —

4 This work was clearly mine. I am needed here.'

THE TWO CALLS 143

'Yes, yes!' she cried, her voice full of pain;
'you are needed, but there is no need of
me.'

Stop, stop ! ' he said sharply ; ' you must not
say so.'

' I will say it, I must say it,' she cried, her voice
vibrating with the intensity of her feeling. ' I
know you do not need me ; you have your work,
your miners, your plans ; you need no one ; you
are strong. But,' and her voice rose to a cry, ' I
am not strong by myself; you have made me
strong. I came here a foolish girl, foolish and
selfish and narrow. God sent me grief. Three
years ago my heart died. Now I am living again.
I am a woman now, no longer a girl. You have
done this for me. Your life, your words, yourself
— you have showed me a better, a higher life, than
I had ever known before, and now you send me
away.'

She paused abruptly.

'Blind, stupid fool !' I said to myself.

He held himself resolutely in hand, answering
carefully, but his voice had lost its coldness and
was sweet and kind.

' Have I done this for you ? Then surely God

244 BLACK ROCK

has been good to me. And you have helped me
more than any words could tell you.'

1 Helped ! ' she repeated scornfully.

'Yes, helped,' he answered, wondering at her
scorn.

'You can do without my help,' she went on.
'You make people help you. You will get many
to help you ; but I need help, too.' She was
standing before him with her hands tightly
clasped ; her face was pale, and her eyes deeper
than ever. He sat looking up at her in a kind of
maze as she poured out her words hot and fast

' I am not thinking of you.' His coldness had
hurt her deeply. ' I am selfish ; I am thinking of
myself. How shall I do? I have grown to
depend on you, to look to you. It is nothing to

you that I go, but to me ' She did not dare

to finish.

By this time Craig was standing before her, his
face deadly pale. When she came to the end
of her words, he said, in a voice low, sweet, and
thrilling with emotion —

' Ah, if you only knew ! Do not make me forget
myself. You do not guess what you are doing.'

' What am I doing ? What is there to know,

THE TWO CALLS *4S

but that you tell me easily to go?' She was
struggling with the tears she was too proud to let
him see.

He put his hands resolutely behind him, look-
ing at her as if studying her face for the first
time. Under his searching look she dropped her
eyes, and the warm colour came slowly up into
her neck and face ; then, as if with a sudden
resolve, she lifted her eyes to his, and looked
back at him unflinchingly.

He started, surprised, drew slowly near, put his
hands upon her shoulders, surprise giving place
to wild joy. She never moved her eyes; they
drew him towards her. He took her face between
his hands, smiled into her eyes, kissed her lips.
She did not move ; he stood back from her, threw
up his head, and laughed aloud. She came to
him, put her head upon his breast, and lifting up
her face said, ' Kiss me.' He put his arms about
her, bent down and kissed her lips again, and
then reverently her brow. Then putting her
back from him, but still holding both her hands,
he cried —

' No 1 you shall not go. I shall never let you

246 BLACK ROCK

She gave a little sigh of content, and, smiling
up at him, said —

* I can go now ' ; but even as she spoke the flush
died from her face, and she shuddered.

' Never ! ' he almost shouted ; ' nothing shall
take you away. We shall work here together/

'Ah, if we could, if we only could,' she said
piteously.

' Why not? ' he demanded fiercely.

' You will send me away. You will say it is
right for me to go/ she replied sadly.

' Do we not love each other ? ' was his impatient
answer.

1 Ah ! yes, love/ she said ; ' but love is not
all/

' No ! ' cried Craig ; ' but love is the best*

' Yes ! ' she said sadly ; ' love is the best, and it
is for love's sake we will do the best/

' There is no better work than here. Surely
this is best/ and he pictured his plans before her.
She listened eagerly.

' Oh ! if it should be right/ she cried, ' I will do
what you say. You are good, you are wise, you
shall tell me/

She could not have recalled him better. He

THE TWO CALLS 247

stood silent some moments, then burst out
passionately —

' Why then has love come to us ? We did not
seek it Surely love is of God. Does God mock
us?'

He threw himself into his chair, pouring out his
words of passionate protestation. She listened,
smiling, then came to him and, touching his hair
as a mother might her child's, said —

* Oh, I am very happy 1 I was afraid you would
not, care, and I could not bear to go that way.1

'You shall not go,' he cried aloud, as if in pain.
' Nothing can make that right*

But she only said, ' You shall tell me to-morrow.
You cannot see to-night, but you will see, and you
will tell me.'

He stood up and, holding both her hands,
looked long into her eyes, then turned abruptly
away and wen . out.

She stood where he left her for some moments,
her face radiant, and her han J(t pressed upon her
heart Then she came toward my room. She
found me busy with my painting, but as I looked
up and met her eyes she flushed slightly, and
said —

24* BLACK ROCK

' I quite forgot you.'

' So it appeared to me.'

•You heard?'

'And saw,' I replied boldly. 'It would have
been rude to interrupt, you see.'

' Oh, I am so glad and thankful.'

' Yes ; it was rather considerate of me/

'Oh, I don't mean that,' the flush deepening;
' I am glad you know.'

' I have known some time.'

' How could you ? I only knew to-day myself.'

' I have eyes.' She flushed again.

'Do you mean that people ' she began

anxiously.

4 No ; I am not " people." I have eyes, and my
eyes have been opened,'

' Opened ? '

' Yes, by love.'

Then I told her openly how, weeks ago, I
struggled with my heart and mastered it, for I
saw it was vain to love her, because she loved a
better man who loved her in return. She looked
at me shyly and said—

' I am sorry.'

'Don't worry,' I said cheerfully. 'I didn't

THE TWO CALLS 24,

•

break my heart, you know ; I stopped it in
time.'

' Oh ! ' she said, slightly disappointed ; then her
lips began to twitch, and she went off into a fit of
hysterical laughter.

' Forgive me,' she said humbly ; ' but you speak
as if it had been a fever.'

'Fever is nothing to it,' I said solemnly. 'It
was a near thing.' At which she went off again.
I was glad to see her laugh. It gave me time to
recover my equilibrium, and it relieved her intense
emotional strain. So I rattled on some nonsense
about Craig and myself till I saw she was giving
no heed, but thinking her own thoughts : and what
these were it was not hard to guess.
Suddenly she broke in upon my talk —
' He will tell me that I must go from him.'
* I hope he is no such fool/ I said emphatically
and somewhat rudely, I fear ; for I confess I was
impatient with the very possibility of separation
for these two, to whom love meant so much.
Some people take this sort of thing easily and
some not so easily ; but love for a woman like
this comes once only to a man, and then he
carries it with him through the length of his life,

250 BLACK ROCK

and warms his heart with it in death. And when
a man smiles or sneers at such love as this, I pity
him, and say no word, for my speech would be in
an unknown tongue. So my heart was sore as I
sat looking up at this woman who stood before
me, overflowing with the joy of her new love, and
dully conscious of the coming pain, But I soon
found it was vain to urge my opinion that she
should remain and share the work and life of the
man she loved. She only answered —

' You will help him all you can, for it will hurt
him to have me go.'

The quiver in her voice took out all the anger
from my heart, and before I knew I had pledged
myself to do all I could to help him.

But when I came upon him that night, sitting
in the light of his fire, I saw he must be let alone.
Some battles we fight side by side, with comrades
cheering us and being cheered to victory ; but
there are fights we may not share, and these are
deadly fights where lives are lost and won. So I
could only lay my hand upon his shoulder without
a word. He looked up quickly, read my face,
and said, with a groan —
You know ? '

THE TWO CALLS s5i

' I could not help it. But why groan ?
She will think it right to go/ he said
despairingly.

'Then you must think for her; you must
bring some common-sense to bear upon the
question/

' I cannot see clearly yet,' he said ; ' the light
will come.'

' May I show you how I see it ? ' I asked.

' Go on/ he said.

For an hour I talked, eloquently, even vehe-
mently urging the reason and right of my opinion.
She would be doing no more than every woman
does, no more than she did before ; her mother-
in-law had a comfortable home, all that wealth
could procure, good servants, and friends; the
estates could be managed without her personal
supervision ; after a few years' work here they
would go east for little Majorie's education ; why
should two lives be broken ? — and so I went on.

He listened carefully, even eagerly.

' You make a good case/ he said, with a slight
smile. ' I will take time. Perhaps you are right.
The light will come. Surely it will come. But,'
and here he sprang up and stretched his arms to

2S2 BLACK ROCK

full length above his head, ' I am not sorry ;
whatever comes I am not sorry. It is great to
have her love, but greater to love her as I do.
Thank God ! nothing can take that away. I am
willing, glad to suffer for the joy of loving her.'

Next morning, before I was awake, he was
gone, leaving a note for me : —

' MY DEAR CONNOR, — I am due at the Landing.
When I see you again I think my way will be
clear. Now all is dark. At times I am a coward,
and often, as you sometimes kindly inform me,
an ass ; but I hope I may never become a mule.

I am willing to be led, or want to be, at any
rate. I must do the best — not second best — for
her, for me. The best only is God's will. What
else would you have ? Be good to her these days,
dear old fellow. — Yours, CRAIG.'

How often those words have braced me he will
never know, but I am a better man for them:
' The best only is God's will. What else would
you have ? ' I resolved I would rage and fret no
more, and that I would worry Mrs. Mavor with
no more argument or expostulation, but, as my
friend had asked, ' Be good to her.

LOVE IS NOT ALL

CHAPTER XII

LOVE IS NOT ALL

THOSE days when we were waiting Craig's
return we spent in the woods or on the
mountain sides, or down in the canyon beside
the stream that danced down to meet the
Black Rock river, I talking and sketching and
reading, and she listening and dreaming, with
often a happy smile upon her face. But there
were moments when a cloud of shuddering fear
would sweep the smile away, and then I would
talk of Craig till the smile came back again.

But the woods and the mountains and the
river were her best, her wisest, friends during
those days. How sweet the ministry of the
woods to herl The trees were in their new
summer leaves, fresh and full of life. They
swayed and rustled above us, flinging their
interlacing shadows upon us, and their swaying

2 5« BLACK ROCK

and their rustling soothed and comforted like
the voice and touch of a mother. And the
mountains, too, in all the glory of their varying
robes of blues and purples, stood calmly, solemnly
about us, uplifting our souls into regions of rest.
The changing lights and shadows flitted swiftly
over their rugged fronts, but left them ever as
before in their steadfast majesty. 'God's in His
heaven.' What would you have ? And ever the
little river sang its cheerful courage, fearing not
the great mountains that threatened to bar its
passage to the sea. Mrs. Mavor heard the song
and her courage rose.

'We too shall find our way,' she said, and I
believed her.

But through these days I could not make her
out, and I found myself studying her as I might
a new acquaintance. Years had fallen from her ;
she was a girl again, full of young warm life.
She was as sweet as before, but there was a
soft shyness over her, a half-shamed, half-frank
consciousness in her face, a glad light in her
eyes that made her all new to me. Her perfect
trust in Craig was touching to see.

1 He will tell me what to do/ she would say,

LOVE IS NOT ALL §57

till I began to realise how impossible it would
be for him to betray such trust, and be anything
but true to the best.

So much did I dread Craig's home-coming,
that I sent for Graeme and old man Nelson,
who was more and more Graeme's trusted
counsellor and friend. They were both highly
excited by the story I had to tell, for I thought
it best to tell them all ; but I was not a little
surprised and disgusted that they did not see
the matter in my light In vain I protested
against the madness of allowing anything to send
these two from each other. Graeme summed up
the discussion in his own emphatic way, but with
an earnestness in his words not usual with him.

' Craig will know better than any of us what
is right to do, and he will do that, and no man
can turn him from it ; and,' he added, ' I should
be sorry to try.'

Then my wrath rose, and I cried —

' It 's a tremendous shame 1 They love each
other. You are talking sentimental humbug
and nonsense ! '

1 He must do the right/ said Nelson In his
deep, quiet voice.

258 BLACK ROCK

' Right 1 Nonsense ! By what right does he
send from him the woman he loves ? '

' " He pleased not Himself," ' quoted Nelson
reverently.

' Nelson is right,' said Graeme. ' I should not
like to see him weaken.'

' Look here,' I stormed ; ' I didn't bring you
men to back him up in his nonsense. I thought
you could keep your heads level.'

' Now, Connor,' said Graeme, ' don't rage — leave
that for the heathen ; it 's bad form, and useless
besides. Craig will walk his way where his light
falls ; and by all that 's holy, I should hate to see
him fail ; for if he weakens like the rest of us my
North Star will have dropped from my sky.'

1 Nice selfish spirit,' I muttered.

1 Entirely so. I 'm not a saint, but I feel like
steering by one when I see him.'

When after a week had gone, Craig rode up
one early morning to his shack door, his face
told me that he had fought his fight and had not
been beaten. He had ridden all night and was
ready to drop with weariness.

'Connor, old boy,' he said, putting out his
hand ; ' I 'm rather played. There was a bad

LOVE IS NOT ALL «S9

row at the Landing. I have just closed poor
Colley's eyes. It was awful. I must get
sleep. Look after Dandy, will you, like a
good chap?'

' Oh, Dandy be hanged ! ' I said, for I knew it
ivas not the fight, nor the watching, nor the long
ride that had shaken his iron nerve and given
him that face. ' Go in and lie down ; I '11 bring
you something.'

' Wake me in the afternoon/ he said ; ' she is
waiting. Perhaps you will go to her' — his lips
quivered — ' my nerve is rather gone.' Then with
a very wan smile he added, ' I am giving you a
lot of trouble.'

' You go to thunder ! ' I burst out, for my
throat was hot and sore with grief for him.

' I think I 'd rather go to sleep/ he replied, still
smiling. I could not speak, and was glad of the
chance of being alone with Dandy.

When I came in I found him sitting with his
head in his arms upon the table fast asleep. I
made him tea, forced him to take a warm bath,
and sent him to bed, while I went to Mrs. Mavor.
I went with a fearful heart, but that was because
I had forgotten the kind of woman she was.

a6o BLACK ROCK

She was standing in the light of the window
waiting for me. Her face was pale but steady,
there was a proud light in her fathomless eyes,
a slight smile parted her lips, and she carried
her head like a queen.

' Come in,' she said. ' You need not fear to tell
me. I saw him ride home. He has not failed,
thank God 1 I am proud of him ; I knew he would
be true. He loves me ' — she drew in her breath
sharply, and a faint colour tinged her cheek —
' but he knows love is not all — ah, love is not all 1
Oh ! I am glad and proud I*

' Glad ! ' I gasped, amazed.

' You would not have him prove faithless ! ' she
said with proud defiance.

' Oh, it is high sentimental nonsense,' I could
not help saying.

' You should not say so,' she replied, and her
voice rang clear. ' Honour, faith, and duty are
sentiments, but they are not nonsense.'

In spite of my rage I was lost in amazed
admiration of the high spirit of the woman who
stood up so straight before me. But, as I told
how worn and broken he was, she listened with
changing colour and swelling bosom, her proud

LOVE IS NOT ALL 261

courage all gone, and only love, anxious and
pitying, in her eyes.

'Shall I go to him?' she asked with timid
eagerness and deepening colour.

' He is sleeping. He said he would come to
you/ I replied.

' I shall wait for him/ she said softly, and the
tenderness in her tone went straight to my heart,
and it seemed to me a man might suffer much to
be loved with love such as this.

In the early afternoon Graeme came to her.
She met him with both hands outstretched, say-
ing in a low voice —

1 1 am very happy.'

' Are you sure ? ' he asked anxiously.

' Oh, yes/ she said, but her voice was like a sob;
'quite, quite sure.'

They talked long together till I saw that Craig
must soon be coming, and I called Graeme away.
He held her hands, looking steadily into her eyes
and said —

'You are better even than I thought; I'm
going to be a better man.'

Her eyes filled with tears, but her smile did not
fade as she answered —

26« BLACK ROCK

' Yes ! you will be a good man, and God will
give you work to do.'

He bent his head over her hands and stepped
back from her as from a queen, but he spoke no
word till we came to Craig's door. Then he
said with humility that seemed strange in him,
1 Connor, that is great, to conquer oneself. It is
worth while. I am going to try.'

I would not have missed his meeting with
Craig. Nelson was busy with tea. Craig was
writing near the window. He looked up as
Graeme came in, and nodded an easy good-
evening ; but Graeme strode to him and, putting
one hand on his shoulder, held out his other for
Craig to take.

After a moment's surprise, Craig rose to his
feet, and, facing him squarely, took the offered
hand in both of his and held it fast without a
word. Graeme was the first to speak, and his
voice was deep with emotion —

' You are a great man, a good man. I 'd give
something to have your grit.'

Poor Craig stood looking at him, not daring
to speak for some moments then he said
quietly —

LOVE IS NOT ALL 363

' Not good nor great, but, thank God, not quite
a traitor.'

1 Good man ! ' went on Graeme, patting him
on the shoulder. ' Good man ! But it 's tough.'

Craig sat down quickly, saying, ' Don't do that,
old chap ! '

I went up with Craig to Mrs. Mayor's door.
She did not hear us coming, but stood near the
window gazing up at the mountains. She was
dressed in some rich soft stuff, and wore at her
breast a bunch of wild-flowers. I had never seem
her so beautiful. I did not wonder that Craig
paused with his foot upon the threshold to look
at her. She turned and saw us. With a glad
cry, ' Oh ! my darling ; you have come to me,'
she came with outstretched arms. I turned and
fled, but the cry and the vision were long with me.

It was decided that night that Mrs. Mavor
should go the next week. A miner and his wife
were going east, and I too would join the party.

The camp went into mourning at the news ;
but it was understood that any display of grief
before Mrs. Mavor was bad form. She was not
to be annoyed.

But when I suggested that she should leave

264 BLACK ROCK

quietly, and avoid the pain of saying good-bye,
she flatly refused —

1 1 must say good-bye to every man. They
love me and I love them.'

It was decided, too, at first, that there should
be nothing in the way of a testimonial, but when
Craig found out that the men were coming to her
with all sorts of extraordinary gifts, he agreed
that it would be better that they should unite in
one gift. So it was agreed that I should buy
a ring for her. And were it not that the con-
tributions were strictly limited to one dollar,
the purse that Slavin handed her when Shaw
read the address at the farewell supper would
have been many times filled with the gold that
was pressed upon the committee. There were no
speeches at the supper, except one by myself in
reply on Mrs. Mavor's behalf. She had given me
the words to say, and I was thoroughly prepared,
else I should not have got through. I began in
the usual way : ' Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentle-
men, Mrs. Mavor is ' but I got no further, for

at the mention of her name the men stood on the
chairs and yelled until they could yell no more.
There were over two hundred and fifty of them, and

LOVE IS NOT ALL 965

the effect was overpowering. But I got through
my speech. I remember it well. It began —

'Mrs. Mavor is greatly touched by this mark
of your love, and she will wear your ring always
with pride.' And it ended with —

' She has one request to make, that you will be
true to the League, and that you stand close
about the man who did most to make it She
wishes me to say that however far away she may
have to go, she is leaving her heart in Black Rock,
and she can think of no greater joy than to come
back to you again.'

Then they had 'The Sweet By and By,' but
the men would not join in the refrain, unwilling
to lose a note of the glorious voice they loved to
hear. Before the last verse she beckoned to me.
I went to her standing by Craig's side as he
played for her. 'Ask them to sing,' she entreated ;
' I cannot bear it'

* Mrs. Mavor wishes you to sing in the refrain,'
I said, and at once the men sat up and cleared
their throats. The singing was not good, but at
the first sound of the hoarse notes of the man
Craig's head went down over the organ, for he
was thinking I suppose of the days before them

266 BLACK ROCK

when they would long in vain for that thrilling
voice that soared high over their own hoarse
tones. And after the voices died away he kept
on playing till, half turning toward him, she sang
alone once more the refrain in a voice low and
sweet and tender, as if for him alone. And so he
took it, for he smiled up at her his old smile full
of courage and full of love.

Then for one whole hour she stood saying
good-bye to those rough, gentle -hear ted men
whose inspiration to goodness she had been for
five years. It was very wonderful and very quiet
It was understood that there was to be no
nonsense, and Abe had been heard to declare
that he would ' throw out any cotton-backed fool
who couldn't hold himself down,1 and further, he
had enjoined them to remember that 'her arm
wasn't a pump-handle.'

At last they were all gone, all but her guard of
honour — Shaw, Vernon Winton, Geordie, Nixon,
Abe, Nelson, Craig, and myself.

This was the real farewell ; for, though in the
early light of the next morning two hundred men
stood silent about the stage, and then as it moved
oat waved their hats and yelled madly, this was

LOVE IS NOT ALL s6y

the last touch they had of her hand. Her place
was up on the driver's seat between Abe and Mr.
Craig, who held little Marjorie on his knee. The
rest of the guard of honour were to follow with
Graeme's team. It was Winton's fine sense that
kept Graeme from following them close. ' Let
her go out alone/ he said, and so we held back
and watched her go.

She stood with her back towards Abe's plung-
ing four-horse team, and steadying herself with
one hand on Abe's shoulder, gazed down upon
as. Her head was bare, her lips parted in a
smile, her eyes glowing with their own deep
light ; and so, facing us, erect and smiling, she
drove away, waving us farewell till Abe swung
his team into the canyon road and we saw her no
more. A sigh shuddered through the crowd, and,
with a sob in his voice, Winton said : ' God help
us all.'

I close my eyes and see it all again. The
waving crowd of dark-faced men, the plunging
horses, and, high up beside the driver, the
swaying, smiling, waving figure, and about all
the mountains, framing the picture with their
dark sides and white peaks tipped with the gold

2 68 BLACK ROCK

of the rising sun. It is a picture I love to look
upon, albeit it calls up another that I can never
see but through tears.

I look across a strip of ever-widening water, at
a group of men upon the wharf, standing with
heads uncovered, every man a hero, though not a
man of them suspects it, least of all the man who
stands in front, strong, resolute, self-conquered.
And, gazing long, I think I see him turn again to
his place among the men of the mountains, not
forgetting, but every day remembering the great
love that came to him, and remembering, too,
that love is not all. It is then the tears come.

But for that picture two of us at least are
better men to-day.

HOW NELSON CAME HOME

CHAPTER XIII

HOW NELSON CAME HOME

THROUGH the long summer the mountains and
the pines were with me. And through the
winter, too, busy as I was filling in my Black
Rock sketches for the railway people who would
still persist in ordering them by the dozen, the
memory of that stirring life would come over
me, and once more I would be among the silent
pines and the mighty snow-peaked mountains.
And before me would appear the red-shirted
shantymen or dark-faced miners, great, free, bold
fellows, driving me almost mad with the desire to
seize and fix those swiftly changing groups of
picturesque figures. At such times I would drop
my sketch, and with eager brush seize a group,
a face, a figure, and that is how my studio comes
to be filled with the men of Black Rock. There
they are all about me Graeme and the men

m

273 BLACK ROCK

from the woods, Sandy, Baptiste, the Campbells,
and in many attitudes and groups old man
Nelson ; Craig, too, and his miners, Shaw,
Geordie, Nixon, and poor old Billy and the
keeper of the League saloon.

It seemed as if I lived among them, and the
illusion was greatly helped by the vivid letters
Graeme sent me from time to time. Brief notes
came now and then from Craig too, to whom I
had sent a faithful account of how I had brought
Mrs. Mavor to her ship, and of how I had
watched her sail away with none too brave
a face, as she held up her hand that bore the
miners' ring, and smiled with that deep light
in her eyes. Ah ! those eyes have driven me
to despair and made me fear that I am no
great painter after all, in spite of what my
friends tell me who come in to smoke my good
cigars and praise my brush. I can get the brow
and hair, and mouth and pose, but the eyes ! the
eyes elude me — and the faces of Mrs. Mavor on
my wall, that the men praise and rave over, are
not such as I could show ta any of the men
from the mountains.

Graeme's letters tell me chiefly about Craig

HOW NELSON CAME HOME 173

and his doings, and about old man Nelson ;
while from Craig I hear about Graeme, and how
he and Nelson are standing at his back, and doing
what they can to fill the gap that never can be
filled. The three are much together, I can see,
and I am glad for them all, but chiefly for Craig,
whose face, grief-stricken but resolute, and often
gentle as a woman's, will not leave me nor let me
rest in peace.

The note of thanks he sent me was entirely
characteristic. There were no heroics, much less
pining or self-pity. It was simple and manly,
not ignoring the pain but making much of the
joy. And then they had their work to do. That
note, so clear, so manly, so nobly sensible, stiffens
my back yet at times.

In the spring came the startling news that
Black Rock would soon be no more. The mines
were to close down on April i. The company,
having allured the confiding public with enticing
descriptions of marvellous drifts, veins, assays,
and prospects, and having expended vast sums
of the public's money in developing the mines
till the assurance of their reliability was absolutely
final, calmly shut down and vanished. With their

274 BLACK ROCK

vanishing vanishes Black Rock, not without loss
and much deep cursing on the part of the men
brought some hundreds of miles to aid the
company in its extraordinary and wholly inex-
plicable game.

Personally it grieved me to think that my plan
of returning to Black Rock could never be carried
out. It was a great compensation, however, that
the three men most representative to me of
that life were soon to visit me actually in my
own home and den. Graeme's letter said that
in one month they might be expected to appear.
At least he and Nelson were soon to come, and
Craig would soon follow.

On receiving the great news, I at once looked
up young Nelson and his sister, and we proceeded
to celebrate the joyful prospect with a specially
good dinner. I found the greatest delight in
picturing the joy and pride of the old man «n his
children, whom he had not seen for fifteen or
sixteen years. The mother had died some five
years before, then the farm was sold, and the
brother and sister came into the city ; and any
father might be proud of them. The son was a
well-made youngfellow,handsome enough,thought-

HOW NELSON CAME HOME 275

ful, and solid-looking. The girl reminded me of
her father. The same resolution was seen in
mouth and jaw, and the same passion slumbered
in the dark grey eyes. She was not beautiful,
but she carried herself well, and one would
always look at her twice. It would be worth
something to see the meeting between father
and daughter.

But fate, the greatest artist of us all, takes
little count of the careful drawing and the bright
colouring of our fancy's pictures, but with rude
hand deranges all, and with one swift sweep
paints out the bright and paints in the dark.
And this trick he served me when, one June
night, after long and anxious waiting for some
word from the west, my door suddenly opened
and Graeme walked in upon me like a spectre,
grey and voiceless. My shout of welcome was
choked back by the look in his face, and I could
only gaze at him and wait for his word. He
gripped my hand, tried to speak, but failed to
make words come.

' Sit down, old man,' I said, pushing him into
my chair, ' and take your time.'

H« obeyed, looking up at me with burning,

276 BLACK ROCK

sleepless eyes. My heart was sore for his misery,
and I said : ' Don't mind, old chap ; it can't
be so awfully bad. You 're here safe and sound
at any rate,' and so I went on to give him
time. But he shuddered and looked round and
groaned.

' Now look here, Graeme, let 's have it When
did you land here? Where is Nelson? Why
didn't you bring him up?'

' He is at the station in his coffin,' he answered
slowly.

' In his coffin?' I echoed, my beautiful pictures
all vanishing. ' How was it?'

' Through my cursed folly,' he groaned bitterly.

'What happened?' I asked. But ignoring my
question, he said : ' I must see his children. I
have not slept for four nights. I hardly know
what I am doing ; but I can't rest till I see his
children. I promised him. Get them for me.'

' To-morrow will do. Go to sleep now, and we
shall arrange everything to-morrow,' I urged.

' No !' he said fiercely ; 'to-night — now !'

In half an hour they were listening, pale and
grief-stricken, to the story of their father's
death.

HOW NELSON CAME HOME 277

Poor Graeme was relentless in his self-con-
demnation as he told how, through his ' cursed
folly,' old Nelson was killed. The three, Craig,
Graeme, and Nelson, had come as far as Victoria
together. There they left Craig, and came on to
San Francisco. In an evil hour Graeme met a
companion of other and evil days, and it was not
long till the old fever came upon him.

In vain Nelson warned and pleaded. The re-
action from the monotony and poverty of camp
life to the excitement and luxury of the San
Francisco gaming palaces swung Graeme quite
off his feet, and all that Nelson could do was to
follow from place to place and keep watch.

'And there he would sit/ said Graeme in a
hard, bitter voice, 'waiting and watching often
till the grey morning light, while my madness
held me fast to the table. One night/ here he
paused a moment, put his face in his hands
and shuddered ; but quickly he was master of
himself again, and went on in the same hard
voice — ' One night my partner and I were playing
two men who had done us up before. I knew they
were cheating, but could not detect them. Game
after game they won, till I was furious at my

278 BLACK ROCK

stupidity in not being able to catch them
Happening to glance at Nelson in the corner, I
caught a meaning look, and looking again, he
threw me a signal. I knew at once what the
fraud was, and next game charged the fellow
with it He gave me the lie ; I struck his mouth,
but before I could draw my gun, his partner had
me by the arms. What followed I hardly know.
While I was struggling to get free, I saw him
reach for his weapon ; but, as he drew it, Nelson
sprang across the table, and bore him down.
When the row was over, three men lay on the
floor. One was Nelson ; he took the shot meant
for me.'

Again the story paused.

1 And the man that shot him ?'

I started at the intense fierceness in the voice,
and, looking upon the girl, saw her eyes blazing
with a terrible light

' He is dead,' answered Graeme indifferently.

'You killed him?' she asked eagerly.

Graeme looked at her curiously, and answered
slowly —

' I did not mean to. He came at me. I struck
him harder than I knew, He never moved.'

HOW NELSON CAME HOME 279

She drew a sigh of satisfaction, and waited.

'I got him to a private ward, had the best
doctor in the city, and sent for Craig to Victoria.
For three days we thought he would live — he was
keen to get home ; but by the time Craig came
we had given up hope. Oh, but I was thankful to
see Craig come in, and the joy in the old man's
eyes was beautiful to see. There was no pain at
last, and no fear. He would not allow me to
reproach myself, saying over and over, "You
would have done the same for me " — as I would,
fast enough — " and it is better me than you. I am
old and done ; you will do much good yet for the
boys." And he kept looking at me till I could
only promise to do my best.

' But I am glad I told him how much good he
had done me during the last year, for he seemed
to think that too good to be true. And when
Craig told him how he had helped the boys in
the camp, and how Sandy and Baptiste and th«
Campbells would always be better men for his
life among them, the old man's face actually
shone, as if light were coming through. And
with surprise and joy he kept on saying, " Do
you think so? Do you think so? Perhaps so,

28o BLACK ROCK

perhaps so." At the last he talked of Christmas
night at the camp. You were there, you remember.
Craig had been holding a service, and something
happened, I don't know what, but they both
knew.'

' I know,' I said, and I saw again the picture of
the old man under the pine, upon his knees in
the snow, with his face turned up to the stars.

'Whatever it was, it was in his mind at the
very last, and I can never forget his face as he
turned it to Craig. One hears of such things : I
had often, but had never put much faith in them ;
but joy, rapture, triumph, these are what were in
his face, as he said, his breath coming short,
"You said — He wouldn't — fail me — you were
right — not once — not once — He stuck to me — I'm
glad he told me — thank God — for you — you

showed — me — I'll see Him — and — tell Him '

And Craig, kneeling beside him so steady — I
was behaving like a fool — smiled down through
his streaming tears into the dim eyes so brightly,
till they could see no more. Thank him for that!
He helped the old man through, and he helped
me too, that night, thank God!' And Graeme's
voke, hard till now, broke in a sob.

HOW NELSON CAME HOME a8i

He had forgotten us, and was back beside his
passing friend, and all his self-control could not
keep back the flowing tears.

' It was his life for mine,' he said huskily.

The brother and sister were quietly weeping,
but spoke no word, though I knew Graeme was
waiting for them.

I took up the word, and told of what I had
known of Nelson, and his influence upon the men
of Black Rock. They listened eagerly enough,
but still without speaking. There seemed nothing
to say, till I suggested to Graeme that he must
get some rest. Then the girl turned to him, and,
impulsively putting out her hand, said —

' Oh, it is all so sad ; but how can we ever thank
you?'

'Thank me!' gasped Graeme. 'Can you for-
give me ? I brought him to his death.'

1 No, no ! You must not say so,' she answered
hurriedly. ' You would have done the same for
him.'

' God knows I would,' said Graeme earnestly ;
'and God bless you for your words ! ' And I was
thankful to see the tears start in his dry, burning
eyes.

zSa BLACK ROCK

We carried him to the old home in the country,
that he might lie by the side of the wife he had
loved and wronged. A few friends met us at the
wayside station, and followed in sad procession
along the country road, that wound past farms
and through woods, and at last up to the ascent
where the quaint, old wooden church, black with
the rains and snows of many years, stood among
its silent graves. The little graveyard sloped
gently towards the setting sun, and from it one
could see, far on every side, the fields of grain
and meadowland that wandered off over softly
undulating hills to meet the maple woods at the
horizon, dark, green, and cool. Here and there
white farmhouses, with great barns standing near,
looked out from clustering orchards.

Up the grass-grown walk, and through the
crowding mounds, over which waves, uncut, the
long, tangling grass, we bear our friend, and let
him gently down into the kindly bosom of mother
earth, dark, moist, and warm. The sound of a
distant cowbell mingles with the voice of the
last prayer ; the clods drop heavily with heart-
startling echo ; the mound is heaped and shaped

HOW NELSON CAME HOME *8j

by kindly friends, sharing with one another the
task ; the long rough sods are laid over and
patted into place ; the old minister takes fare-
well in a few words of gentle sympathy; the
brother and sister, with lingering looks at the
two graves side by side, the old and the new,
step into the farmer's carriage, and drive away ;
the sexton locks the gate and goes home, and we
are left outside alone.

Then we went back and stood by Nelson's
grave.

After a long silence Graeme spoke.

4 Connor, he did not grudge his life to me — and
I think* — and here the words came slowly — 'I
understand now what that means, " Who loved me
and gave Himself for me.'"

Then taking off his hat, he said reverently,
1 By God's help Nelson's life shall not end,
but shall go on. Yes, old man 1* looking down
upon the grave, ' I 'm with you ' ; and lifting
up his face to the calm sky, 'God help me to
be true.'

Then he turned and walked briskly away, as
one might who had pressing business, or as

BLACK ROCK

soldiers march from a comrade's grave to a merry
tune, not that they have forgotten, but they have
still to fight

And this was the way old man Nelson came
home.

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH

CHAPTER XIV

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH

THERE was more left in that grave than old man
Nelson's dead body. It seemed to me that
Graeme left part, at least, of his old self there,
with his dead friend and comrade, in the quiet
country churchyard. I waited long for the old
careless, reckless spirit to appear, but he was
never the same again. The change was unmis«
takable, but hard to define. He seemed to have
resolved his life into a definite purpose. He was
hardly so comfortable a fellow to be with; he
made me feel even more lazy and useless than
was my wont ; but I respected him more, and
liked him none the less. As a lion he was not
a success. He would not roar. This was dis-
appointing to me, and to his friends and mine,
who had been waiting his return with eager
expectation of tales of thrilling and bloodthirsty
adventure.

288 BLACK ROCK

His first days were spent in making right, or as
nearly right as he could, the break that drove him
to the west His old firm (and I have had more
respect for the humanity of lawyers ever since)
behaved really well. They proved the restoration
of their confidence in his integrity and ability by
offering him a place in the firm, which, however,
he would not accept Then, when he felt clean, as
he said, he posted off home, taking me with him.
During the railway journey of four hours he hardly
spoke ; but when we had left the town behind, and
had fairly got upon the country road that led
toward the home ten miles away, his speech
came to him in a great flow. His spirits ran
over. He was like a boy returning from his first
college term. His very face wore the boy's open,
innocent, earnest look that used to attract men to
him in his first college year. His delight in the
fields and woods, in the sweet country air and the
sunlight, was without bound. How often had we
driven this road together in the old days 1

Every turn was familiar. The swamp where the
tamaracks stood straight and slim out of their
beds of moss ; the brule, as we used to call it,
where the pine-stumps, huge and blackened, were

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 389

half-hidden by the new growth of poplars and
soft maples ; the big hill, where we used to get
out and walk when the roads were bad ; the
orchards, where the harvest apples were best and
most accessible — all had their memories.

It was one of those perfect afternoons that so
often come in the early Canadian summer, before
Nature grows weary with the heat. The white
gravel road was trimmed on either side with turf
of living green, close cropped by the sheep that
wandered in flocks along its whole length. Be-
yond the picturesque snake-fences stretched tht
fields of springing grain, of varying shades of
green, with here and there a dark brown patch,
marking a turnip field or summer fallow, and far
back were the woods of maple and beech and elm,
with here and there the tufted top of a mighty
pine, the lonely representative of a vanished race,
standing clear above the humbler trees.

As we drove through the big swamp, where the
yawning, haunted gully plunges down to its
gloomy depths, Graeme reminded me of that
night when our horse saw something in that same
gully, and refused to go past ; and I felt again,
though it was broad daylight, something of the

290 BLACK ROCK.

grue that shivered down my back, as I saw in the
moonlight the gleam of a white thing far through
the pine trunks.

As we came nearer home the houses became
familiar. Every house had its tale: we had eaten
or slept in most of them ; we had sampled apples,
and cherries, and plums from their orchards,
openly as guests, or secretly as marauders, under
cover of night — the more delightful way, I fear.
Ah ! happy days, with these innocent crimes and
fleeting remorses, how bravely we faced them,
and how gaily we lived them, and how yearningly
we look back at them now ! The sun was just
dipping into the tree-tops of the distant woods
behind as we came to the top of the last hill
that overlooked the valley, in which lay the
village of Riverdale. Wooded hills stood about
it on three sides, and, where the hills faded out,
there lay the mill-pond sleeping and smiling in
the sun. Through the village ran the white
road, up past the old frame church, and on to the
white manse standing among the trees. That was
Graeme's home, and mine too, for I had never
known another worthy of the name. We held up
our team to look down over the valley, with its

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 191

rampart of wooded hills, its shining pond, and its
nestling village, and on past to the church and
the white manse, hiding among the trees. The
beauty, the peace, the warm, loving homeliness of
the scene came about our hearts, but, being men,
we could find no words.

* Let 's go/ cried Graeme, and down the hill we
tore and rocked and swayed to the amazement
of the steady team, whose education from the
earliest years had impressed upon their minds
the criminality of attempting to do anything but
walk carefully down a hill, at least for two-thirds
of the way. Through the village, in a cloud of
dust, we swept, catching a glimpse of a well-known
face here and there, and flinging a salutation as
we passed, leaving the owner of the face rooted
to his place in astonishment at the sight of
Graeme whirling on in his old-time, well-known
reckless manner. Only old Dune. M'Leod was
equal to the moment, for as Graeme called out,
1 Hello, Dune. !' the old man lifted up his hands,
and called back in an awed voice: 'Bless my
soul! is it yourself?1

'Stands his whisky well, poor old chap!' was
Graeme's comment.

«93 BLACK ROCK

As we neared the church he pulled up his team,
and we went quietly past the sleepers there, then
again on the full run down the gentle slope, over
the little brook, and up to the gate. He had
hardly got his team pulled up before, flinging me
the lines, he was out over the wheel, for coming
down the walk, with her hands lifted high, was a
dainty little lady, with the face of an angel. In a
moment Graeme had her in his arms. I heard
the faint cry, ' My boy, my boy,' and got down
on the other side to attend to my off horse, sur-
prised to find my hands trembling and my eyes
full of tears. Back upon the steps stood an old
gentleman, with white hair and flowing beard,
handsome, straight, and stately — Graeme's father,
waiting his turn.

'Welcome home, my lad,' was his greeting,
as he kissed his son, and the tremor of his
voice, and the sight of the two men kissing
each other, like women, sent me again to my
horses' heads.

' There 's Connor, mother 1' shouted out Graeme,
and the dainty little lady, in her black silk and
white lace, came out to me quickly, with oat-
stretched hands.

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 193

'You, too, are welcome home,' she said, and
kissed me.

I stood with my hat off, saying something about
being glad to come, but wishing that I could get
away before I should make quite a fool of myself.
For as I looked down upon that beautiful face,
pale, except for a faint flush upon each faded
cheek, and read the story of pain endured and
conquered, and as I thought of all the long years
of waiting and of vain hoping, I found my throat
dry and sore, and the words would not come.
But her quick sense needed no words, and she
came to my help.

'You will find Jack at the stable,' she said
smiling ; ' he ought to have been here.'

The stable ! Why had I not thought of that
before ? Thankfully now my words came —

' Yes, certainly, I '11 find him, Mrs. Graeme. I
suppose he's as much of a scapegrace as ever,'
and off I went to look up Graeme's young
brother, who had given every promise in the old
days of developing into as stirring a rascal as one
could desire ; but who, as I found out later, had
not lived these years in his mother's home for
nothing.

294 BLACK ROCK

' Oh, Jack 's a good boy,' she answered, smiling
again, as she turned toward the other two, now
waiting for her upon the walk.

The week that followed was a happy one for us
all; but for the mother it was full to the brim
with joy. Her sweet face was full of content,
and in her eyes rested a great peace. Our days
were spent driving about among the hills, or
strolling through the maple woods, or down into
the tamarack swamp, where the pitcher plants and
the swamp lilies and the marigold waved above
the deep moss. In the evenings we sat under the
trees on the lawn till the stars came out and the
night dews drove us in. Like two lovers, Graeme
and his mother would wander off together, leaving
Jack and me to each other. Jack was reading for
divinity, and was really a fine, manly fellow, with
all his brother's turn for rugby, and I took to
him amazingly ; but after the day was over we
would gather about the supper table, and the talk
would be of all things under heaven — art, foot-
ball, theology. The mother would lead in all
How quick she was, how bright her fancy, how
subtle her intellect, and through all a gentle grace,
very winning and beautiful to see 1

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 295

Do what I would, Graeme would talk little of
the mountains and his life there.

' My lion will not roar, Mrs. Graeme/ I com-
plained ; ' he simply will not.'

' You should twist his tail,' said Jack.

' That seems to be the difficulty, Jack/ said his
mother, ' to get hold of his tale/

' Oh, mother/ groaned Jack ; 'you never did such
a thing before ! How could you ? Is it this baleful
Western influence ?'

' I shall reform, Jack/ she replied brightly.

1 But, seriously, Graeme/ I remonstrated, ' you
ought to tell your people of your life — that free,
glorious life in the mountains.'

' Free 1 Glorious ! To some men, perhaps !'
said Graeme, and then fell into silence.

But I saw Graeme as a new man the night he
talked theology with his father. The old minister
was a splendid Calvinist, of heroic type, and as he
discoursed of God's sovereignty and election, his
face glowed and his voice rang out

Graeme listened intently, now and then putting
in a question, as one would a keen knife-thrust
into a foe. But the old man knew his ground,
and moved easily among his ideas, demolishing

296 BLACK ROCK

the enemy as he appeared, with jaunty grace. In
the full flow of his triumphant argument, Graeme
turned to him with sudden seriousness.

' Look here, father ! I was born a Calvinist, and
I can't see how any one with a level head can
hold anything else, than that the Almighty has
some idea as to how He wants to run His
universe, and He means to carry out His idea,
and is carrying it out ; but what would you do in
a case like this ? ' Then he told him the story of
poor Billy Breen, his fight and his defeat

' Would you preach election to that chap ? '

The mother's eyes were shining with tears.

The old gentleman blew his nose like a trum-
pet, and then said gravely —

' No, my boy , you don't feed babes with meat.
But what came to him ? '

Then Graeme asked me to finish the tale.
After I had finished the story of Billy's final
triumph and of Craig's part in it, they sat long
silent, till the minister, clearing his throat hard
and blowing his nose more like a trumpet than
ever, said with great emphasis —

' Thank God for such a man in such a place I
I wish there were more of us like him.'

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 897

'I should like to see you out there, sir,' said
Graeme admiringly; 'you'd get them, but you
wouldn't have time for election.'

1 Yes, yes ! ' said his father warmly ; ' I should
love to have a chance just to preach election to
these poor lads. Would I were twenty years
younger ! '

1 It is worth a man's life,' said Graeme earnestly.
His younger brother turned his face eagerly
toward the mother. For answer she slipped her
hand into his and said softly, while her eyes
shone like stars —

1 Some day, Jack, perhaps ! God knows.' But
Jack only looked steadily at her, smiling a little
and patting her hand.

' You 'd shine there, mother/ said Graeme,
smiling upon her ; ' you 'd better come with me.'
She started, and said faintly —

' With you ? ' It was the first hint he had given
of his purpose. ' You are going back ? '

' What ! as a missionary ? ' said Jack.

1 Not to preach, Jack ; I 'm not orthodox
enough,' looking at his father and shaking his
head ; ' but to build railroads and lend a hand to
some poor chap, if I can.'

298 BLACK ROCK

1 Could you not find work nearer home, my
boy ? ' asked the father ; ' there is plenty of both
kinds near us here, surely.'

' Lots of work, but not mine, I fear/ answered
Graeme, keeping his eyes away from his mother's
face. ' A man must do his own work.'

His voice was quiet and resolute, and glancing
at the beautiful face at the end of the table, I
saw in the pale lips and yearning eyes that the
mother was offering up her firstborn, that
ancient sacrifice. But not all the agony of sacri-
fice could wring from her entreaty or complaint
in the hearing of her sons. That was for other
ears and for the silent hours of the night. And
next morning when she came down to meet us
her face was wan and weary, but it wore the
peace of victory and a glory not of earth. Her
greeting was full of dignity, sweet and gentle ;
but when she came to Graeme she lingered over
him and kissed him twice. And that was all
that any of us ever saw of that sore fight

At the end of the week I took leave of them,
and last of all of the mother.

She hesitated just a moment, then suddenly
put her hands upon my shoulders and kissed

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH »gg

me, saying softly, ' You are his friend ; you will
sometimes come to me ? '

' Gladly, if I may/ I hastened to answer, for
the sweet, brave face was too much to bear ; and,
till she left us for that world of which she was a
part, I kept my word, to my own great and last-
ing good. When Graeme met me in the city at
the end of the summer, he brought me her love,
and then burst forth —

1 Connor, do you know, I have just discovered
my mother I I have never known her till this
summer.'

' More fool you,' I answered, for often had I,
who had never known a mother, envied him
his.

'Yes, that is true/ he answered slowly; 'but
you cannot see until you have eyes.'

Before he set out again for the west I gave
him a supper, asking the men who had been with
us in the old 'Varsity days. I was doubtful as
to the wisdom of this, and was persuaded only
by Graeme's eager assent to my proposal.

' Certainly, let 's have them/ he said ; ' I shall
be awfully glad to see them ; great stuff they
were.'

300 BLACK ROCK

' But, I don't know, Graeme ; you see — well-
hang it 1 — you know— -you 're different, you
know.'

He looked at me curiously.

' I hope I can still stand a good supper, and if
the boys can't stand me, why, I can't help it
I '11 do anything but roar, and don't you begin
to work off your menagerie act — now, you hear
me!'

' Well, it is rather hard lines that when I have
been talking up my lion for a year, and then
finally secure him, that he will not roar.'

' Serve you right,' he replied, quite heartlessly ;
' but I '11 tell you what I '11 do, I '11 feed ! Don't
you worry,' he adds soothingly ; ' the supper will

go.'

And go it did. The supper was of the best ;
the wines first-class. I had asked Graeme about
the wines.

' Do as you like, old man,' was his answer ; ' it 's
your supper, but,' he added, ' are the men all
straight ? '

I ran them over in my mind.

1 Yes ; I think so.'

' If not, don't you help them down ; and any-

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 301

way, you can't be too careful. But don't mind
me ; I am quit of the whole business from this
out.' So I ventured wines, for the last time, as it
happened.

We were a quaint combination. Old ' Beetles,'
whose nickname was prophetic of his future fame
as a bugman, as the fellows irreverently said ;
' Stumpy ' Smith, a demon bowler ; Polly Lind-
say, slow as ever and as sure as when he held the
half-back line with Graeme, and used to make
my heart stand still with terror at his cool de-
liberation. But he was never known to fumble
nor to funk, and somehow he always got us out
safe enough. Then there was Rattray — 'Rat'
for short — who, from a swell, had developed into
a cynic with a sneer, awfully clever and a good
enough fellow at heart. Little 'Wig' Martin,
the sharpest quarter ever seen, and big Barney
Lundy, centre scrimmage, whose terrific roar and
rush had often struck terror to the enemy's
heart, and who was Graeme's slave. Such was
the party.

As the supper went on my fears began to
vanish, for if Graeme did not ' roar,' he did the
next best thing — ate and talked quite up to his

BLACK ROCK

old form. Now we played our matches over
again, bitterly lamenting the ' if s ' that had lost
us the championships, and wildly approving the
tackles that had saved, and the runs that had
made the 'Varsity crowd go mad with delight
and had won for us. And as their names came
up in talk, we learned how life had gone with
those who had been our comrades of ten years
ago. Some, success had lifted to high places ;
some, failure had left upon the rocks, and a few
lay in their graves.

But as the evening wore on, I began to wish
that I had left out the wines, for the men began
to drop an occasional oath, though I had let
them know during the summer that Graeme was
not the man he had been. But Graeme smoked
and talked and heeded not, till Rattray swore
by that name most sacred of all ever borne
by man. Then Graeme opened upon him in a
cool, slow way—

' What an awful fool a man is, to damn things
as you do, Rat Things are not damned. It is
men who are ; and that is too bad to be talked
much about But when a man flings out of his
foul mouth the name of Jesus Christ ' — here he

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 303

lowered his voice — ' it 's a shame — it 's more, it 's
a crime.'

There was dead silence, then Rattray replied —

' I suppose you 're right enough, it is bad form ;
but crime is rather strong, I think.'

1 Not if you consider who it is/ said Graeme
with emphasis.

' Oh, come now/ broke in Beetles. ' Religion
is all right, is a good thing, and I believe a neces-
sary thing for the race, but no one takes seriously
any longer the Christ myth.'

'What about your mother, Beetles?' put in
Wig Martin.

Beetles consigned him to the pit and was
silent, for his father was an Episcopal clergyman,
and his mother a saintly woman.

' I fooled with that for some time, Beetles, but
it won't do. You can't build a religion that will
take the devil out of a man on a myth. That
won't do the trick. I don't want to argue about
it, but I am quite convinced the myth theory is
not reasonable, and besides, it won't work.'

1 Will the other work ? ' asked Rattray, with a
sneer.

1 Sure ! ' said Graeme ; ' I 've seen it*

304 BLACK ROCK

' Where ? ' challenged Rattray. ' I haven't seen
much of it*

' Yes, you have, Rattray, you know you have/
said Wig again. But Rattray ignored him.

' I '11 tell you, boys,' said Graeme. ' I want
you to know, anyway, why I believe what I do.'

Then he told them the story of old man Nelson,
from the old coast days, before I knew him, to
the end He told the story well. The stern
fight and the victory of the life, and the self-
sacrifice and the pathos of the death appealed
to these" men, who loved fight and could under-
stand sacrifice.

'That's why I believe in Jesus Christ, and
that 's why I think it a crime to fling His name
about ! '

1 1 wish to Heaven I could say that/ said
Beetles.

' Keep wishing hard enough and it will come
to you/ said Graeme.

' Look here, old chap/ said Rattray ; ' you 're
quite right about this ; I 'm willing to own up.
Wig is correct I know a few, at least, of that
stamp, but most of those who go in for that sort
of thing are not much account'

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 305

1 For ten years, Rattray,' said Graeme in a
downright, matter-of-fact way, ' you and I have
tried this sort of thing ' — tapping a bottle — ' and
we got out of it all there is to be got, paid well
for it, too, and — faugh ! you know it 's not good
enough, and the more you go in for it, the more
you curse yourself. So I have quit this and I am
going in for the other.'

1 What ! going in for preaching ? '

' Not much — railroading — money in it — and
lending a hand to fellows on the rocks.'

' I say, don't you want a centre forward ? ' said
big Barney in his deep voice.

I Every man must play his game in his place,
old chap. I 'd like to see you tackle it, though,
right well,' said Graeme earnestly. And so he
did, in the after years, and good tackling it was.
But that is another story.

' But, I say, Graeme,' persisted Beetles, ' about
this business, do you mean to say you go the
whole thing — Jonah, you know, and the r«st
of it?'

Graeme hesitated, then said —

I 1 haven't much of a creed, Beetles ; don't
really know how much I believe. But,' by this

306 BLACK ROCK

time he was standing, ' I do know that good is
good, and bad is bad, and good and bad are not
the same. And I know a man 's a fool to follow
the one, and a wise man to follow the other, and/
lowering his voice, ' I believe God is at the back
of a man who wants to get done with bad. I Ve
tried all that folly,' sweeping his hand over the
glasses and bottles, ' and all that goes with it,
and I Ve done with it*

' I '11 go you that far/ roared big Barney, follow-
ing his old captain as of yore.

4 Good man/ said Graeme, striking hands with
him.

' Put me down/ said little Wig cheerfully.

Then I took up the word, for there rose before
me the scene in the League saloon, and I saw
the beautiful face with the deep shining eyes, and
I was speaking for her again. I told them of
Craig and his fight for these men's lives. I told
them, too, of how I had been too indolent to
begin. ' But/ I said, ' I am going this far from
to-night/ and I swept the bottles into the cham-
pagne tub.

' I say/ said Polly Lindsay, coming up in his
old style, slow but sure, ' let 's all go in, say for

GRAEME'S NEW BIRTH 307

five years.' And so we did. We didn't sign
anything, but every man shook hands with
Graeme.

And as I told Craig about this a year later,
when he was on his way back from his Old Land
trip to join Graeme in the mountains, he threw
up his head in the old way and said, ' It was well
done. It must have been worth seeing. Old
man Nelson's work is not done yet. Tell me
again/ and he made me go over the whole scene
with all the details put in.

But when I told Mrs. Mavor, after two years
had gone, she only said, ' Old things are passed
away, all things are become new ' ; but the light
glowed in her eyes till I could not see their
colour. But all that, too, is another story.

COMING TO THEIR OWN

CHAPTER XV

COMING TO THEIR OWN

A MAN with a conscience is often provoking,
sometimes impossible. Persuasion is lost upon
him. He will not get angry, and he looks at one
with such a far-away expression in his face that
in striving to persuade him one feels earthly and
even fiendish. At least this was my experience
with Craig. He spent a week with me just before
he sailed for the Old Land, for the purpose, as he
said, of getting some of the coal dust and other
grime out of him.

He made me angry the last night of his stay,
and all the more that he remained quite sweetly
unmoved. It was a strategic mistake of mine to
tell him how Nelson came home to us, and how
Graeme stood up before the 'Varsity chaps at
my supper and made his confession and confused
Rattray's easy-stepping profanity, and started

his own five-year league. For all this stirred in

Hi

3i* BLACK ROCK

Craig the hero, and he was ready for all sorts of
heroic nonsense, as I called it. We talked of
everything but the one thing, and about that we
said not a word till, bending low to poke my fire
and to hide my face, I plunged —

1 You will see her, of course ? '

He made no pretence of not understanding
but answered —

4 Of course.'

'There's really no sense in her staying over
there,' I suggested.

' And yet she is a wise woman,' he said, as if
carefully considering the question.

1 Heaps of landlords never see their tenants,
and they are none the worse.'

1 The landlords ? '

' No, the tenants/

' Probably, having such landlords/

1 And as for the old lady, there must be some
one in the connection to whom it would be a
Godsend to care for her.'

' Now, Connor,' he said quietly, ' don't We
have gone over all there is to be said. Nothing
new has come. Don't turn it all up again/

Then I played the heathen and raged, as

COMING TO THEIR OWN 313

Graeme would have said, till Craig smiled a little
wearily and said —

' You exhaust yourself, old chap. Have a pipe,
do ' ; and after a pause he added in his own way,
1 What would you have ? The path lies straight
from my feet Should I quit it ? I could not so
disappoint you — and all of them.'

And I knew he was thinking of Graeme and
the lads in the mountains he had taught to be
true men. It did not help my rage, but it
checked my speech ; so I smoked in silence till
he was moved to say —

'And after all, you know, old chap, there are
great compensations for all losses ; but for tht
loss of a good conscience towards God, what can
make up ? '

But, all the same, I hoped for some better
result from his visit to Britain. It seemed to me
that something must turn up to change such an
unbearable situation.

The year passed, however, and when I looked
into Craig's face again I knew that nothing had
been changed, and that he had come back to take
up again his life alone, more resolutely hopeful
than ever.

314 BLACK ROCK

But the year had left its mark upon him too.
He was a broader and deeper man. He had
been living and thinking with men of larger ideas
and richer culture, and he was far too quick in
sympathy with life to remain untouched by his
surroundings. He was more tolerant of opinions
other than his own, but more unrelenting in his
fidelity to conscience and more impatient of half-
heartedness and self-indulgence. He was full of
reverence for the great scholars and the great
leaders of men he had come to know.

' Great, noble fellows they are, and extraordin-
arily modest,' he said — ' that is, the really great are
modest. There are plenty of the other sort,
neither great nor modest And the books to be
read! I am quite hopeless about my reading.
It gave me a queer sensation to shake hands with
a man who had written a great book. To hear
him make commonplace remarks, to witness a
faltering in knowledge — one expects these men
to know everything — and to experience respectful
kindness at his hands ! '

' What of the younger men ? ' I asked.

' Bright, keen, generous fellows. In things
theoretical, omniscient; but in things practical,

COMING TO THEIR OWN 315

quite helpless. They toss about great ideas as
the miners lumps of coal. They can call them
by their book names easily enough, but I often
wondered whether they could put them into
English. Some of them I coveted for the moun-
tains. Men with clear heads and big hearts, and
built after Sandy M'Naughton's model. It does
seem a sinful waste of God's good human stuff
to see these fellows potter away their lives among
theories living and dead, and end up by producing
a book ! They are all either making or going
to make a book. A good thing we haven't to
read them. But here and there among them is
some quiet chap who will make a book that
men will tumble over each other to read.'

Then we paused and looked at each other.

1 Well ? ' I said. He understood me.

1 Yes ! ' he answered slowly, ' doing great work.
Every one worships her just as we do, and she is
making them all do something worth while, as
she used to make us/

He spoke cheerfully and readily as if he were
repeating a lesson well learned, but he could not
humbug me. I felt the heartache in the cheerful
tone.

316 BLACK ROCK

1 Tell me about her,' I said, for I knew that if he
would talk it would do him good. And talk he
did, often forgetting me, till, as I listened, I found
myself looking again into the fathomless eyes,
and hearing again the heart-searching voice. I
saw her go in and out of the little red-tiled
cottages and down the narrow back lanes of the
village ; I heard her voice in a sweet, low song by
the bed of a dying child, or pouring forth floods
of music in the great new hall of the factory town
near by. But I could not see, though he tried to
show me, the stately gracious lady receiving the
country folk in her home. He did not linger
over that scene, but went back again to the gate-
cottage where she had taken him one day to sec
Billy Breen's mother.

' I found the old woman knew all about me,'
he said, simply enough ; ' but there were many
things about Billy she had never heard, and I
was glad to put her right on some points, though
Mrs. Mavor would not hear it.'

He sat silent for a little, looking into the coals ;
then went on in a soft, quiet voice —

1 It brought back the mountains and thr. old
days to hear again Billy's tones in his mother's

COMING TO THEIR OWN 317

voice, and to see her sitting there in the very
dress she wore the night of the League, you
remember — some soft stuff with black lace about
it — and to hear her sing as she did for Billy —
ah ! ah 1 ' His voice unexpectedly broke, but in
a moment he was master of himself and begged
me to forgive his weakness. I am afraid I said
words that should not be said — a thing I never
do, except when suddenly and utterly upset

' I am getting selfish and weak,' he said ; ' I
must get to work. I am glad to get to work.
There is much to do, and it is worth while, if
only to keep one from getting useless and lazy.'

' Useless and lazy 1 ' I said to myself, thinking
of my life beside his, and trying to get command
of my voice, so as not to make quite a fool
of myself. And for many a day those words
goaded me to work and to the exercise of some
mild self-denial. But more than all else, after
Craig had gone back to the mountains, Graeme's
letters from the railway construction camp stirred
one to do unpleasant duty long postponed, and
rendered uncomfortable my hours of most luxuri-
ous ease. Many of the old gang were with him,
both of lumbermen and miners, and Craig was their

3i8 BLACK ROCK

minister. And the letters told of how he laboured
by day and by night along the line of construc-
tion, carrying his tent and kit with him, preaching
straight sermons, watching by sick men, writing
their letters, and winning their hearts, making
strong their lives, and helping them to die well
when their hour came. One day these letters
proved too much for me, and I packed away
my paints and brushes, and made my vow unto
the Lord that I would be 'useless and lazy' no
longer, but would do something with myself. In
consequence, I found myself within three weeks
walking the London hospitals, finishing my course,
that I might join that band of men who were
doing something with life, or, if throwing it away,
were not losing it for nothing. I had finished
being a fool, I hoped, at least a fool of the useless
and luxurious kind. The letter that came from
Graeme, in reply to my request for a position on
his staff, was characteristic of the man, both new
and old, full of gayest humour and of most
earnest welcome to the work.

Mrs. Mavor's reply was like herself —
1 1 knew you would not long be content with
the making of pictures, which the world does not

COMING TO THEIR OWN 319

really need, and would join your friends in the
dear West, making lives that the world needs so
sorely.'

But her last words touched me strangely —

1 But be sure to be thankful every day for your
privilege. ... It will be good to think of you
all, with the glorious mountains about you, and
Christ's own work in your hands. . . . Ah ! how
we would like to choose our work, and the place
in which to do it ! '

The longing did not appear in the words, but I
needed no words to tell me how deep and how
constant it was. And I take some credit to my-
self, that in my reply I gave her no bidding to
join our band, but rather praised the work she
was doing in her place, telling her how I had
heard of it from Craig.

The summer found me religiously doing Paris
and Vienna, gaining a more perfect acquaintance
with the extent and variety of my own ignorance,
and so fully occupied in this interesting and
wholesome occupation that I fell out with all my
correspondents, with the result of weeks of silence
between us.

Two letters among the heap waiting on my

320 BLACK ROCK

table in London made my heart beat quick, but
with how different feelings: one from Graeme
telling me that Craig had been very ill, and that
he was to take him home as soon as he could be
moved. Mrs. Mavor's letter told me of the death
of the old lady, who had been her care for the
past two years, and of her intention to spend
some months in her old home in Edinburgh.
And this letter it is that accounts for my pre-
sence in a miserable, dingy, dirty little hall
running off a close in the historic Cowgate,
redolent of the glories of the splendid past, and
of the various odours of the evil-smelling present
I was there to hear Mrs. Mavor sing to the crowd
of gamins that thronged the closes in the neigh-
bourhood, and that had been gathered into a club
by ' a fine leddie frae the West End,' for the love
of Christ and His lost. This was an ' At Home '
night, and the mothers and fathers, sisters and
brothers, of all ages and sizes were present. Of
all the sad faces I had ever seen, those mothers
carried the saddest and most woe- stricken.
1 Heaven pity us ! ' I found myself saying ; ' is this
the beautiful, the cultured, the heaven-exalted
city of Edinburgh ? Will it not, for this, be cast

COMING TO THEIR OWN 321

down into hell some day, if it repent not of
its closes and their dens of defilement? Oh I
the utter weariness, the dazed hopelessness of
the ghastly faces ! Do not the kindly, gentle
church -going folk of the crescents and the
gardens see them in their dreams, or are their
dreams too heavenly for these ghastly faces to
appear?'

I cannot recall the programme of the evening,
but in my memory-gallery is a vivid picture of
that face, sweet, sad, beautiful, alight with the deep
glow of her eyes, as she stood and sang to lhat
dingy crowd. As I sat upon the window-ledge
listening to the voice with its flowing song, my
thoughts were far away, and I was looking down
once more upon the eager, coal-grimed faces in
the rude little church in Black Rock. I was
brought back to find myself swallowing hard
by an audible whisper from a wee lassie to her
mother —

1 Mither ! See till yon man. He's greetinV

When I came to myself she was singing ' The

Land o' the Leal,' the Scotch 'Jerusalem the

Golden,' immortal, perfect It needed experience

of the hunger-haunted Cowgate closes, chill with

X

3aa BLACK ROCK

the black mist of an eastern haar, to feel the full
bliss of the vision in the words

' There 's nae sorrow there, Jean,
There's neither cauld nor care, Jean,
The day is aye fair in
The Land o* the Leal.'

A land of fair, warm days, untouched by sorrow
and care, would be heaven indeed to the dwellers
otflbe Cowgate.

The rest of that evening is hazy enough to me
now, till I find myself opposite Mrs. Mavor at
her fire, reading Graeme's letter ; then all is vivid
again.

I could not keep the truth from her. I knew
it would be folly to try. So I read straight on
till I came to the words —

' He has had mountain fever, whatever that
may be, and he will not pull up again. If I can,
I shall take him home to my mother ' — when she
suddenly stretched out her hand, saying, ' Oh, let
me read ! ' and I gave her the letter. In a minute
she had read it, and began almost breathlessly —

1 Listen ! my life is much changed. My mother-
in-law is gone ; she needs me no longer. My
solicitor tells me, too, that owing to unfortunate

COMING TO THEIR OWN 323

investments there is need of money, so great
need, that it is possible that either the estates
or the works must go. My cousin has his all in
the works — iron works, you know. It would be
wrong to have him suffer. I shall give up the
estates — that is best.' She paused.

' And come with me,' I cried.

1 When do you sail ? '

1 Next week,' I answered eagerly.

She looked at me a few moments, and into
her eyes there came a light soft and tender, as
she said —

' I shall go with you.'

And so she did ; and no old Roman in all the
glory of a Triumph carried a prouder heart than
I, as I bore her and her little one from the train
to Graeme's carriage, crying —

' I 've got her.'

But his was the better sense, for he stood wav-
ing his hat and shouting —

1 He 's all right,' at which Mrs. Mavor grew
white ; but when she shook hands with him, the
red was in her cheek again.

1 It was the cable did it,' went on Graeme.
'Connor's a great doctor! His first case will

324 BLACK ROCK

make him famous. Good prescription — after
mountain fever try a cablegram I ' And the red
grew deeper in the beautiful face beside us.

Never did the country look so lovely. The
woods were in their gayest autumn dress ; the
brown fields were bathed in a purple haze ; the
air was sweet and fresh with a suspicion of the
coming frosts of winter. But in spite of all the
road seemed long, and it was as if hours had
gone before our eyes fell upon the white manse
standing among the golden leaves.

* Let them go,' I cried, as Graeme paused to
take in the view,"and down the sloping dusty road
we flew on the dead run.

'Reminds one a little of Abe's curves/ said
Graeme, as we drew up at the gate. But I
answered him not, for I was introducing to each
other the two best women in the world. As I
was about to rush into the house, Graeme seized
me by the collar, saying —

' Hold on, Connor ! you forget your placa^
you 're next.'

'Why, certainly,' I cried, thankfully enough;
' what an ass I am ! '

1 Quite true,' said Graeme solemnly.

COMING TO THEIR OWN 315

'Where is he?' I asked.

'At this present moment?' he asked, in a
shocked voice. ' Why, Connor, you surprise me.'

'Oh, I see!'

1 Yes,' he went on gravely ; ' you may trust my
mother to be discreetly attending to her domestic
duties ; she is a great woman, my mother/

I had no doubt of it, for at that moment she
came out to us with little Marjorie in her arms.

'You have shown Mrs. Mavor to her room,
mother, I hope/ said Graeme ; but she only
smiled and said —

' Run away with your horses, you silly boy/ at
which he solemnly shook his head. ' Ah, mother,
you are deep — who would have thought it of
you?'

That evening the manse overflowed with joy,
and the days that followed were like dreams set
to sweet music.

But for sheer wild delight, nothing in my
memory can quite come up to the demonstration
organised by Graeme, with assistance from Nixon,
Shaw, Sandy, Abe, Geordie, and Baptiste, in honour
of the arrival in camp of Mr. and Mrs. Craig. And,
in my opinion, it added something to the occa-

326 BLACK ROCK

sion, that after all the cheers for Mr. and Mrs.
Craig had died away, and after all the hats had
come down, Baptiste, who had never taken his
eyes from that radiant face, should suddenly have
swept the crowd into a perfect storm of cheers by
excitedly seizing his tuque, and calling out in his
shrill voice —

' By gar I Tree cheer for Mrs. Mavor.'
And for many a day the men of Black Rock
would easily fall into the old and well-loved
name ; but up and down the line of construction,
in all the camps beyond the Great Divide, the
new name became as dear as the old had ever
been in Black Rock.

Those old wild days are long since gone into
the dim distance of the past. They will not
come again, for we have fallen into quiet times ;
but often in my quietest hours I feel my heart
pause in its beat to hear again that strong, clear
voice, like the sound of a trumpet, bidding us to
be men ; and I think of them all — Graeme, their
chief, Sandy, Baptiste, Geordie, Abe, the Camp-
bells, Nixon, Shaw, all stronger, better for their
knowing of him, and then I think of Billy asleep
under the pines, and of old man Nelson with the

COMING TO THEIR OWN 317

long grass waving over him in the quiet church-
yard, and all my nonsense leaves me, and I bless
the Lord for all His benefits, but chiefly for the
day I met the missionary of Black Rock in the
lumber-camp among the Selkirks.

THE END

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