by Ralph Connor
CHAPTER XIII
THE LOGGING BEE
Macdonald Bhain's visit to his brother was fruitful in another way.After taking counsel with Yankee and Kirsty, he resolved that he wouldspeak to his neighbors and make a "bee," to attack the brule. He knewbetter than to consult either his brother or his nephew, feeling surethat their Highland pride would forbid accepting any such favor, and allthe more because it seemed to be needed. But without their leave the beewas arranged, and in the beginning of the following week the house ofMacdonald Dubh was thrown into a state of unparalleled confusion, andKirsty went about in a state of dishevelment that gave token thatthe daily struggle with dirt had reached the acute stage. From topto bottom, inside and outside, everything that could be scrubbed wasscrubbed, and then she settled about her baking, but with all caution,lest she should excite her brother's or her nephew's suspicion. It wasa good thing that little baking was required, for the teams that broughtthe men with their axes and logging-chains for the day's work at thebrule brought also their sisters and mothers with baskets of provisions.A logging bee without the sisters and mothers with their baskets wouldhardly be an unmixed blessing.
The first man to arrive with his team was Peter McGregor's Angus, andwith him came his sister Bella. He was shortly afterward followedby other teams in rapid succession--the Rosses, the McKerachers, theCamerons, both Don and Murdie, the Rory McCuaigs, the McRaes, two orthree families of them, the Frasers, and others--till some fifteen teamsand forty men, and boys, who thought themselves quite men, lined up infront of the brule.
The bee was a great affair, for Macdonald Bhain was held in high regardby the people; and besides this, the misfortune that had befallen hisbrother, and the circumstances under which it had overtaken him, hadaroused in the community a very deep sympathy for him, and people wereglad of the opportunity to manifest this sympathy. And more than all,a logging bee was an event that always promised more or less excitementand social festivity.
Yankee was "boss" for the day. This position would naturally have fallento Macdonald Bhain, but at his brother's bee, Macdonald Bhain shrankfrom taking the leading place.
The men with the axes went first, chopping up the half-burned logs intolengths suitable for the burning-piles, clearing away the brushwood,and cutting through the big roots of the fire-eaten stumps so thatthey might more easily be pulled. Then followed the teams with theirlogging-chains, hauling the logs to the piles, jerking out and drawingoff the stumps whose huge roots stuck up high into the air, and drawinggreat heaps of brush-wood to aid in reducing the heavy logs to ashes.At each log-pile stood a man with a hand-spike to help the driver to getthe log into position, a work requiring strength and skill, and aboveall, a knowledge of the ways of logs which comes only by experience. Itwas at this work that Macdonald Bhain shone. With his mighty strength hecould hold steady one end of a log until the team could haul the otherinto its place.
The stump-pulling was always attended with more or less interest andexcitement. Stumps, as well as logs, have their ways, and it takes along experience to understand the ways of stumps.
In stump-hauling, young Aleck McGregor was an expert. He rarely failedto detect the weak side of a stump. He knew his team, and what wasof far greater importance, his team knew him. They were partly ofFrench-Canadian stock, not as large as Farquhar McNaughton's big, fatblacks, but "as full of spirit as a bottle of whisky," as Aleck himselfwould say. Their first tentative pulls at the stump were taken withcaution, until their driver and themselves had taken the full measure ofthe strength of the enemy. But when once Aleck had made up his mind thatvictory was possible, and had given them the call for the final effort,then his team put their bodies and souls into the pull, and never drewback till something came. Their driver was accustomed to boast thatnever yet had they failed to honor his call.
Farquhar's handsome blacks, on the other hand, were never handled afterthis fashion. They were slow and sure and steady, like their driver.Their great weight gave them a mighty advantage in a pull, but never,in all the solemn course of their existence, had they thrown themselvesinto any doubtful trial of strength. In a slow, steady haul they wereto be relied upon; but they never could be got to jerk, and a jerk isan important feature in stump-hauling tactics. To-day, however, a newexperience was awaiting them. Farquhar was an old man and slow, andYankee, while he was unwilling to hurry him, was equally unwilling thathis team should not do a full day's work. He persuaded Farquhar that hispresence was necessary at one of the piles, not with the hand-spike,but simply to superintend the arranging of the mass for burning. "For itain't every man," Yankee declared, "could build a pile to burn." As forhis team, Yankee persuaded the old man that Ranald was unequaled inhandling horses; that last winter no driver in the camp was up to him.Reluctantly Farquhar handed his team over to Ranald, and stood for sometime watching the result of the new combination.
Ranald was a born horseman. He loved horses and understood them. Slowlyhe moved the blacks at their work, knowing that horses are sensitive toa new hand and voice, and that he must adapt himself to their ways, ifhe would bring them at last to his. Before long Farquhar was contentedto go off to his pile, satisfied that his team was in good hands, andnot sorry to be relieved of the necessity of hurrying his pace throughthe long, hot day, as would have been necessary in order to keep up withthe other drivers.
For each team a strip of the brule was marked out to clear after theaxes. The logs, brush, and stumps had to be removed and dragged to theburning-piles. Aleck, with his active, invincible French-Canadians,Ranald with Farquhar's big, sleek blacks, and Don with his father'steam, worked side by side. A contest was inevitable, and before an hourhad passed Don and Aleck, while making a great show of deliberation,were striving for the first place, with Aleck easily leading. Like apiece of machinery, Aleck and his team worked together. Quickly andneatly both driver and horses moved about their work with perfectunderstanding of each other. With hardly a touch of the lines, butalmost entirely by word of command, Aleck guided his team. And when hetook up the whiffletrees to swing them around to a log or stump,his horses wheeled at once into place. It was beautiful to see them,wheeling, backing, hauling, pulling, without loss of time or temper.
With Don and his team it was all hard work. His horses were willing andquick enough, but they were ill-trained and needed constant tugging atthe lines. In vain Don shouted and cracked his whip, hurrying his teamto his pile and back again; the horses only grew more and more awkward,while they foamed and fretted and tired themselves out.
Behind came Ranald, still humoring his slow-going team with easy handand quiet voice. But while he refrained from hurrying his horses, hehimself worked hard, and by his good judgment and skill with the chain,and in skidding the logs into his pile, in which his training in theshanty had made him more than a match for any one in the field, manyminutes were saved.
When the cowbell sounded for dinner, Aleck's team stepped off for thebarn, wet, but fresh and frisky as ever, and in perfect heart. Don'shorses appeared fretted and jaded, while Ranald brought in his blackswith their glossy skins white with foam where the harness had chafed,but unfretted, and apparently as ready for work as when they began.
"You have spoiled the shine of your team," said Aleck, looking overRanald's horses as he brought them up to the trough. "Better turn themout for the afternoon. They can't stand much more of that pace."
Aleck was evidently trying to be good-natured, but he could not hide thesneer in his tone. They had neither of them forgotten the incident atthe church door, and both felt that it would not be closed until morehad been said about it. But to-day, Ranald was in the place of host,and it behooved him to be courteous, and Aleck was in good humor withhimself, for his team had easily led the field; and besides, he wasengaged in a kind and neighborly undertaking, and he was too much ofa man to spoil it by any private grudge. He would have to wait for hissettlement with Ranald.
During the hour and a half allowed for dinner, Ranald took his horses tothe well, was
hed off their legs, removed their harness, and led them toa cool spot behind the barn, and there, while they munched their oats,he gave them a good hard rub-down, so that when he brought them into thefield again, his team looked as glossy and felt as fresh as before theybegan the day's work.
As Ranald appeared on the field with his glossy blacks, Aleck glanced atthe horses, and began to feel that, in the contest for first place, itwas Ranald he had to fear, with his cool, steady team, rather thanDon. Not that any suspicion crossed his mind that Farquhar McNaughton'ssleek, slow-going horses could ever hold their own with his, but he madeup his mind that Ranald, at least, was worth watching.
"Bring up your gentry," he called to Ranald, "if you are not too finefor common folks. Man, that team of yours," he continued, "should neverbe put to work like this. Their feet should never be off pavement."
"Never you mind," said Ranald, quietly. "I am coming after you, andperhaps before night the blacks may show you their heels yet."
"There's lots of room," said Aleck, scornfully, and they both set towork with all the skill and strength that lay in themselves and in theirteams.
For the first hour or two Ranald was contented to follow, lettinghis team take their way, but saving every moment he could by his ownefforts. So that, without fretting his horses in the least, or withoutmoving them perceptibly out of their ordinary gait, he found himself alittle nearer to Aleck than he had been at noon; but the heavy liftingand quick work began to tell upon him. His horses, he knew, would notstand very much hurrying. They were too fat for any extra exertion insuch heat, and so Ranald was about to resign himself to defeat, when heobserved that in the western sky clouds were coming up. At the same timea cool breeze began to blow, and he took fresh heart. If he could hurryhis team a little more, he might catch Aleck yet; so he held his own alittle longer, preserving the same steady pace, until the clouds fromthe west had covered all the sky. Then gradually he began to quicken hishorses' movements and to put them on heavier loads. Wherever opportunityoffered, instead of a single log, or at most two, he would take three orfour for his load; and in ways known only to horsemen, he began to stirup the spirit of his team, and to make them feel something of his ownexcitement.
To such good purpose did he plan, and so nobly did his team respond tohis quiet but persistent pressure, that, ere Aleck was aware, Ranald wasup on his flank; and then they each knew that until the supper-bellrang he would have to use to the best advantage every moment of time andevery ounce of strength in himself and his team if he was to win firstplace.
Somehow the report of the contest went over the field, till at length itreached the ears of Farquhar. At once the old man, seized with anxietyfor his team, and moved by the fear of what Kirsty might say if thenews ever reached her ears, set off across the brule to remonstrate withRanald, and if necessary, rescue his team from peril.
But Don saw him coming, and knowing that every moment was precious, anddreading lest the old man would snatch from Ranald the victory whichseemed to be at least possible for him, he arrested Farquhar with a callfor assistance with a big log, and then engaged him in conversation uponthe merits of his splendid team.
"And look," cried he, admiringly, "how Ranald is handling them! Did youever see the likes of that?"
The old man stood watching for a few moments, doubtfully enough, whileDon continued pouring forth the praises of his horses, and the latter,as he noticed Farquhar's eyes glisten with pride, ventured to hint thatbefore the day was done "he would make Aleck McRae and his team looksick. And without a hurt to the blacks, too," he put in, diplomatically,"for Ranald is not the man to hurt a team." And as Farquhar stood andwatched Ranald at his work, and noted with surprise how briskly andcleverly the blacks swung into their places, and detected also withhis experienced eye that Aleck was beginning to show signs of hurry, heentered into the spirit of the contest, and determined to allow his teamto win victory for themselves and their driver if they could.
The ax men had finished their "stent." It wanted still an hour ofsupper-time, and surely if slowly, Ranald was making toward first place.The other teams were left far behind with their work, and the wholefield began to center attention upon the two that were now confessedlyengaged in desperate conflict at the front. One by one the ax men drewtoward the end of the field, where Ranald and Aleck were fighting outtheir fight, all pretense of deliberation on the part of the drivershaving by this time been dropped. They no longer walked as they hitchedtheir chains about the logs or stumps, but sprang with eager haste totheir work. One by one the other teamsters abandoned their teams andmoved across the field to join the crowd already gathered about thecontestants. Among them came Macdonald Bhain, who had been working atthe farthest corner of the brule. As soon as he arrived upon the scene,and understood what was going on, he cried to Ranald: "That will do now,Ranald; it will be time to quit."
Ranald was about to stop, and indeed had checked his horses, when Aleck,whose blood was up, called out tauntingly, "Aye, it would be better forhim and his horses to stop. They need it bad enough."
This was too much for even Farquhar's sluggish blood. "Let them go,Ranald!" he cried. "Let them go, man! Never you fear for the horses, ifyou take down the spunk o' yon crowing cock."
It was just what Ranald needed to spur him on--a taunt from his foe andleave from Farquhar to push his team.
Before each lay a fallen tree cut into lengths and two or threehalf-burned stumps. Ranald's tree was much the bigger. A single lengthwould have been an ordinary load for the blacks, but their driver feltthat their strength and spirit were both equal to much more than this.He determined to clear away the whole tree at a single load. As soon ashe heard Farquhar's voice, he seized hold of the whiffletrees, struckhis team a sharp blow with the lines--their first blow that day--swungthem round to the top of the tree, ran the chain through its swivel,hooked an end round each of the top lengths, swung them in toward thebutt, unhooked his chain, gathered all three lengths into a singleload, faced his horses toward the pile, and shouted at them. The blacks,unused to this sort of treatment, were prancing with excitement, andwhen the word came they threw themselves into their collars with afierceness that nothing could check, and amid the admiring shouts of thecrowd, tore the logs through the black soil and landed them safely atthe pile. It was the work of only a few minutes to unhitch the chain,haul the logs, one by one, into place, and dash back with his team atthe gallop for the stumps, while Aleck had still another load of logs todraw.
Ranald's first stump came out with little trouble, and was borne at fullspeed to the pile. The second stump gave him more difficulty, and beforeit would yield he had to sever two or three of its thickest roots.
Together the teams swung round to their last stump. The excitement inthe crowd was intense. Aleck's team was moving swiftly and with thesteadiness of clockwork. The blacks were frantic with excitement andhard to control. Ranald's last stump was a pine of medium size, whoseroots were partly burned away. It looked like an easy victim. Aleck'swas an ugly-looking little elm.
Ranald thought he would try his first pull without the use of the ax.Quickly he backed up his team to the stump, passed the chain round aroot on the far side, drew the big hook far up the chain, hitched it soas to give the shortest possible draught, threw the chain over the topof the stump to give it purchase, picked up his lines, and called tohis team. With a rush the blacks went at it. The chain slipped up onthe root, tightened, bit into the wood, and then the blacks flung back.Ranald swung them round the point and tried them again, but still thestump refused to budge.
All this time he could hear Aleck chopping furiously at his elm-roots,and he knew that unless he had his stump out before his rival had hischain hitched for the pull the victory was lost.
For a moment or two he hesitated, looking round for the ax.
"Try them again, Ranald," cried Farquhar. "Haw them a bit."
Once more Ranald picked up the lines, swung his horses round to theleft, held them steady a moment or two, and then
with a yell sent themat their pull. Magnificently the blacks responded, furiously tearing upthe ground with their feet. A moment or two they hung straining on theirchain, refusing to come back, when slowly the stump began to move.
"You have got it," cried Farquhar. "Gee them a point or two."
But already Ranald had seen that this was necessary, and once morebacked his team to readjust the chain which had slipped off the top. Ashe fastened the hook he heard a sharp "Back!" behind him, and he knewthat the next moment Aleck's team would be away with their load. With ayell he sprang at his lines, lashed the blacks over the back, and calledto them once more. Again his team responded, and with a mighty heave,the stump came slowly out, carrying with it what looked like half a tonof earth. But even as it heaved, he heard Aleck's call and the answeringcrash, and before he could get his team a-going, the French-Canadianswere off for their pile at a gallop, with the lines flying in the airbehind them. A moment later he followed, the blacks hauling their stumpat a run.
Together he and Aleck reached the pile. It only remained now to unhookthe chain. In vain he tugged and hauled. The chain was buried deepbeneath the stump and refused to move, and before he could swing histeam about and turn the stump over, he heard Aleck's shout of victory.
But as he dropped his chain and was leisurely backing his horses, heheard old Farquhar cry, "Hurry, man! Hurry, for the life of you!"
Without waiting to inquire the reason, Ranald wheeled his team, gave thestump a half turn, released his chain, and drove off from the pile, tofind Aleck still busy hooking his chain to his whiffletree.
Aleck had had the same difficulty in freeing his chain as Ranald, butinstead of trying to detach it from the stump, he had unhooked the otherend, and then, with a mighty backward jerk, had snatched it from thestump. But before he could attach it to his place on the whiffletreeagain, Ranald stood ready for work.
"A win, lad! A win!" cried old Farquhar, more excited than he had beenfor years.
"It is no win," said Aleck, hotly.
"No, no, lads," said Macdonald Bhain, before Farquhar could reply. "Itis as even a match as could well be. It is fine teams you both have got,and you have handled them well."
But all the same, Ranald's friends were wildly enthusiastic over whatthey called his victory, and Don could hardly keep his hands off him,for very joy.
Aleck, on the other hand, while claiming the victory because his teamwas at the pile first, was not so sure of it but that he was readyto fight with any one venturing to dispute his claim. But the men alllaughed at him and his rage, until he found it wiser to be good-humoredabout it.
"Yon lad will be making as good a man as yourself," said Farquhar,enthusiastically, to Macdonald Bhain, as Ranald drove his team to thestable.
"Aye, and a better, pray God," said Macdonald Bhain, fervently, lookingafter Ranald with loving eyes. There was no child in his home, and hisbrother's son was as his own.
Meanwhile Don had hurried on, leaving his team with Murdie that hemight sing Ranald's praises to "the girls," with whom Ranald was highlypopular, although he avoided them, or perhaps because he did so, theways of women being past understanding.
To Mrs. Murray and Maimie, who with the minister and Hughie, had comeover to the supper, he went first with his tale. Graphically he depictedthe struggle from its beginning to the last dramatic rush to the pile,dilating upon Ranald's skill and pluck, and upon the wonderful andhitherto unknown virtues of Farquhar's shiny blacks.
"You ought to see them!" cried Don. "You bet they never moved in theirlives the way they did today. Tied him!" he continued. "Tied him! Beathim, I say, but Macdonald Bhain says 'Tied him'--Aleck McRae, who thinkshimself so mighty smart with his team."
Don forgot in his excitement that the McRaes and their friends werethere in numbers.
"So he is," cried Annie Ross, one of Aleck's admirers. "There is not aman in the Indian Lands that can beat Aleck and his team."
"Well," exulted Don, "a boy came pretty near it to-day."
But Annie only stuck out her lip at him in the inimitable female manner,and ran off to add to the mischief that Don had already made betweenRanald and his rival.
But now the day's work was over, and the hour for the day's event hadcome, for supper was the great event to which all things moved at bees.The long tables stood under the maple trees, spread with the richest,rarest, deadliest dainties known to the housewives and maidens of thecountryside. About the tables stood in groups the white-aproned girls,tucked and frilled, curled and ribboned into all degrees of bewitchingloveliness. The men hurried away with their teams, and then gavethemselves to the serious duty of getting ready for supper, using manypails of water in their efforts to remove the black from the burnt woodof the brule.
At length the women lost all patience with them, and sent AnnieRoss, with two or three companions, to call them to supper. With armsintertwined, and with much chattering and giggling, the girls madetheir way to the group of men, some of whom were engaged in putting thefinishing touches to their toilet.
"Supper is ready," cried Annie, "and long past ready. You need not betrying to fix yourselves up so fine. You are just as bad as any girls.Oh!" Her speech ended in a shriek, which was echoed by the others, forAleck McRae rushed at them, stretching out his black hands toward them.But they were too quick for him, and fled for protection to the safeprecincts of the tables.
At length, when the last of the men had made themselves, as theythought, presentable, they began to make their approach to the tables,slowly and shyly for the most part, each waiting for the other. AleckMcRae, however, knew little of shyness, but walked past the differentgroups of girls, throwing on either hand a smile, a wink, or a word, ashe might find suitable.
Suddenly he came upon the group where the minister's wife and her niecewere standing. Here, for the moment, his ease forsook him, but Mrs.Murray came to meet him with outstretched hand.
"So you still retain your laurels?" she said, with a frank smile. "Ihear it was a great battle."
Aleck shook hands with her rather awkwardly. He was not on the easiestterms with the minister and his wife. He belonged distinctly to thecareless set, and rather enjoyed the distinction.
"Oh, it was not much," he said; "the teams were well matched."
"Oh, I should like to have been there. You should have told usbeforehand."
"Oh, it was more than I expected myself," he said. "I didn't think itwas in Farquhar's team."
He could not bring himself to give any credit to Ranald, and though Mrs.Murray saw this, she refused to notice it. She was none the less anxiousto win Aleck's confidence, because she was Ranald's friend.
"Do you know my niece?" she said, turning to Maimie.
Aleck looked into Maimie's face with such open admiration that she feltthe blush come up in her cheeks.
"Indeed, she is worth knowing, but I don't think she will care to takesuch a hand as that," he said, stretching out a hand still grimy inspite of much washing. But Maimie had learned something since coming toher aunt, and she no longer judged men by the fit of their clothes, orthe color of their skin, or the length of their hair; and indeed, as shelooked at Aleck, with his close-buttoned smock, and overalls with thelegs tucked neatly into the tops of his boots, she thought he was thetrimmest figure she had seen since coming to the country. She tookAleck's hand and shook it warmly, the full admiration in his handsomeblack eyes setting her blood tingling with that love of conquest thatlies in every woman's heart. So she flung out her flag of war, andsmiled back at him her sweetest.
"You have a fine team, I hear," she said, as her aunt moved away togreet some of the other men, who were evidently waiting to get a wordwith her.
"That I have, you better believe," replied Aleck, proudly.
"It was very clever of Ranald to come so near beating you, wasn't it?"she said, innocently. "He must be a splendid driver."
"He drives pretty well," admitted Aleck. "He did nothing else all lastwinter in the shanties."
"
He is so young, too," went on Maimie. "Just a boy, isn't he?"
Aleck was not sure how to take this. "He does not think so," heanswered, shortly. "He thinks he is no end of a man, but he will have tolearn something before he is much older."
"But he can drive, you say," continued Maimie, wickedly keeping herfinger on the sore spot.
"Oh, pshaw!" replied Aleck, boldly. "You think a lot of him, don't you?And I guess you are a pair."
Maimie tossed her head at this. "We are very good friends, of course,"she said, lightly. "He is a very nice boy, and we are all fond of him;but he is just a boy; he is Hughie's great friend."
"A boy, is he?" laughed Aleck. "That may be, but he is very fond ofyou, whatever, and indeed, I don't wonder at that. Anybody would be," headded, boldly.
"You don't know a bit about it," said Maimie, with cheeks glowing.
"About what?"
"About Ranald and--and--what you said."
"What I said? About being fond of you? Indeed, I know all about that.The boys are all broke up, not to speak of myself."
This was going a little too fast for Maimie. She knew nothing, as yet,of the freedom of country banter. She was new to the warfare, but shewas not going to lower her flag or retreat. She changed the subject."Your team must have been very tired."
"Tired!" exclaimed Aleck, "not a bit. They will go home like birds. Comealong with me, and you will see."
Maimie gasped. "I--" she hesitated, glanced past Aleck, blushed, andstammered.
Aleck turned about quickly and saw Ranald staring at Maimie. "Oh," hesaid, banteringly, "I see. You would not be allowed."
"Allowed!" echoed Maimie. "And why not, pray? Who will hinder me?"
But Aleck only shrugged his shoulders and looked at Ranald, who passedon to his place at the table, black as a thunder-cloud. Maimie wasindignant at him. What right had he to stare and look so savage? Shewould just show him. So she turned once more to Aleck, and with a gaylaugh, cried, "Some day I will accept your invitation, so just makeready."
"Any day, or every day, and the more days the better," cried Aleck, ashe sat down at the table, where all had now taken their places.
The supper was a great success. With much laughter and chaffing, thegirls flitted from place to place, pouring cups of tea and passing thevarious dishes, urging the men to eat, till, as Don said, they were"full to the neck."
When all had finished, Mr. Murray, who sat at the head of the table,rose in his place and said: "Gentlemen, before we rise from this table,which has been spread so bountifully for us, I wish to return thanks onbehalf of Mr. Macdonald to the neighbors and friends who have gatheredto-day to assist in this work. Mr. Macdonald asked me to say that he isall the more surprised at this kindness, in that he feels himself to beso unworthy of it. I promised to speak this word for him, but I do notagree with the sentiment. Mr. Macdonald is a man whom we all love, andin whose misfortune we deeply sympathize, and I only hope that thisProvidence may be greatly blessed to him, and that we will all come toknow him better, and to see God's hand in his misfortune."
The minister then, after some further remarks expressive of the goodwill of the neighbors for Mr. Macdonald, and in appreciation of the kindspirit that prompted the bee, returned thanks, and the supper was over.
As the men were leaving the table, Aleck watched his opportunity andcalled to Maimie, when he was sure Ranald could hear, "Well, when willyou be ready for that drive?"
And Maimie, who was more indignant at Ranald than ever because he hadignored all her advances at supper, and had received her congratulationsupon his victory with nothing more than a grunt, answered Aleckbrightly. "Oh, any day that you happen to remember."
"Remember!" cried Aleck; "then that will be every day until our ridecomes off."
A few minutes later, as Ranald was hitching up Farquhar's team, Aleckpassed by, and in great good humor with himself, chaffingly called outto Ranald in the presence of a number of the men, "That's a fine girlyou've got, Ranald. But you better keep your eye on her."
Ranald made no reply. He was fast losing command of himself.
"Pretty skittish to handle, isn't she?" continued Aleck.
"What y're talkin' 'bout? That Lisette mare?" said Yankee, walking roundto Ranald's side. "Purty slick beast, that. Guess there ain't anythin'in this country will make her take dust."
Then in a low voice he said to Ranald, hurriedly, "Don't you mind him;don't you mind him. You can't touch him to-day, on your own place. Letme handle him."
"No," said Aleck. "We were talking about another colt of Ranald's."
"What's that?" said Yankee, pretending not to hear. "Yes, you bet," hecontinued. "Ranald can handle her all right. He knows something abouthorses, as I guess you have found out, perhaps, by this time. Never sawanything so purty. Didn't know your team had got that move in them, Mr.McNaughton," Yankee went on to Farquhar, who had just come up.
"Indeed, they are none the worse of it," said Farquhar, rubbing hishands over the sleek sides of his horses.
"Worse!" cried Yankee. "They're worth a hundred dollars more from thisday on."
"I don't know that. The hundred dollars ought to go upon the driver,"said Farquhar, putting his hand kindly upon Ranald's shoulder.
But this Ranald warmly repudiated. "They are a great team," he said toFarquhar. "And they could do better than they did to-day if they werebetter handled.'
"Indeed, it would be difficult to get that," said Farquhar, "for, inmy opinion, there is not a man in the country that could handle them aswell."
This was too much for Aleck, who, having by this time got his horseshitched, mounted his wagon seat and came round to the door at a gallop.
"Saved you that time, my boy," said Yankee to Ranald. "You would havemade a fool of yourself in about two minutes more, I guess."
But Ranald was still too wrathful to be grateful for Yankee's help. "Iwill be even with him someday," he said, between his teeth.
"I guess you will have to learn two or three things first," said Yankee,slowly.
"What things?"
"Well, how to use your head, first place, and then how to use yourhands. He is too heavy for you. He would crumple you up in a couple ofminutes."
"Let him, then," said Ranald, recklessly.
"Rather onpleasant. Better wait awhile till you learn what I told you."
"Yankee," said Ranald, after a pause, "will you show me?"
"Why, sartin sure," said Yankee, cheerfully. "You have got to lick himsome day, or he won't be happy; and by jings! it will be worth seein',too."
By this time Farquhar had come back from saying good by to MacdonaldDubh and Mr. and Mrs. Murray, who were remaining till the last.
"You will be a man yet," said Farquhar, shaking Ranald's hand. "Youhave got the patience and the endurance." These were great virtues inFarquhar's opinion.
"Not much patience, I am afraid," said Ranald. "But I am glad youtrusted me with your team."
"And any day you want them you can have them," said Farquhar, hisreckless mood leading him to forget Kirsty for the moment.
"Thank you, sir," said Ranald, wondering what Kirsty would look likeshould he ever venture to claim Farquhar's offer.
One by one the teams drove away with their loads, till only the ministerand his party were left. Away under the trees Mr. Murray was standing,earnestly talking to Macdonald Dubh. He had found the opportunity he hadlong waited for and was making the most of it. Mrs. Murray was busy withKirsty, and Maimie and Hughie came toward the stable where Yankee andRanald were still standing. As soon as Ranald saw them approaching hesaid to Yankee, abruptly, "I am going to get the minister's horse," anddisappeared into the stable. Nor did he come forth again till he heardhis father calling to him: "What is keeping you, Ranald? The minister iswaiting for his horse."
"So you won a great victory, Ranald, I hear," said the minister, asRanald brought Black to the door.
"It was a tie," said Ranald.
"Oh, Ranald!" cried Hughie, "you beat hi
m. Everybody says so. You hadyour chain hitched up and everything before Aleck."
"I hear it was a great exhibition, not only of skill, but of enduranceand patience, Ranald," said the minister. "And these are noble virtues.It is a great thing to be able to endure."
But Ranald made no reply, busying himself with Black's bridle. Mrs.Murray noticed his gloom and guessed its cause.
"We will see you at the Bible class, Ranald," she said, kindly, butstill Ranald remained silent.
"Can you not speak, man?" said his father. "Do you not hear theminister's wife talking to you?"
"Yes," said Ranald, "I will be there."
"We will be glad to see you," said Mrs. Murray, offering him her hand."And you might come in with Hughie for a few minutes afterward," shecontinued, kindly, for she noted the misery in his face.
"And we will be glad to see you, too, Mr. Macdonald, if it would not betoo much for you, and if you do not scorn a woman's teaching."
"Indeed, I would be proud," said Macdonald Dubh, courteously, "as far asthat is concerned, for I hear there are better men than me attending."
"I am sure Mrs. Murray will be glad to see you, Mr. Macdonald," said theminister.
"I will be thinking of it," said Macdonald Dubh, cautiously. "And youare both very kind, whatever," he said, losing for a time his habitualgloom.
"Well, then, I will look for you both," said Mrs. Murray, as they wereabout to drive off, "so do not disappoint me."
"Good by, Ranald," said Maimie, offering Ranald her hand.
"Good by," said Ranald, holding her hand for a moment and looking hardinto her eyes, "and I hope you will enjoy your ride, whatever."
Then Maimie understood Ranald's savage manner, and as she thought itover she smiled to herself. She was taking her first sips of that cup,to woman's lips the sweetest, and she found it not unpleasant. She hadsucceeded in making one man happy and another miserable. But it was whenshe said to herself, "Poor Ranald!" that she smiled most sweetly.