Annette, the Metis Spy: A Heroine of the N.W. Rebellion

by J. E. Collins

  NANCY, THE LIGHT-KEEPER'S DAUGHTER.

  BY EDMUND COLLINS.

  "Yes, that is a picture of Grace Darling, but I can tell you a storyof great bravery, too, which the world has never heard, about thedaughter of a light-keeper who lived on the shore of one of ourCanadian lakes." These words were spoken to me by an old Canadianfisherman in whose house I was spending a few nights while out for myautumn shooting.

  "The girl's name was Nancy and her father was keeper of a smallwooden light-house which stood chained to a ledge lying close to theharbour's mouth. The girl and her father lived alone upon the rock,but when the water was smooth they went every day to the mainland intheir little boat. One day in the late autumn the keeper was obligedto make a journey to a distant town, and as he could not reach homeagain till some hours after dark, he left the lighting of the lightto Nancy. The girl and a number of others went among the hills in theafternoon to pick bake-apples, and they remained till the sun wasonly "a hand high" in the west. Then the party turned their stepstoward the coast.

  "There will be a heavy gale to-night," the girl said, looking at thesky; for a mass of dark cloud resembling a ragged mountain hadappeared up the coast and begun to roll rapidly toward the harbour.It is only those who live near the lakes, that know how suddenlysometimes a terrible hurricane will come out of a sky which was themost peaceful of azure only a few moments before. The tempest firstmoved along the level shore, casting an awful shadow upon thelandscape for miles before it; then it smote the sea in its full fury.

  To describe the tumult of sound as the gale drove onward would beimpossible. A sad cry would swell out like the voice of a motherwailing for her child; then, pitched in a low, loud key, would come anoise like the howling of a soul condemned; while above the confusingdin could be heard shrill whistles and cross pipings as if a host ofmad spirits were signalling one another through the storm.

  Nancy hurried to the shore where lay her little boat, and severalfishermen were gathered about the dock.

  "Girl," said one, a hardy sailor who had been on the lakes in theroughest weather, "no boat would live now to reach the reef. Betterwait till your father returns."

  "But if some ship, unable to clear the land with this ingale, shouldbe obliged to run for the harbour, she could never enter without thelight."

  "I was on the look-out a few moments ago, and there was nothing insight. But, even if there was, it would be madness to launch a boatnow. Look at these seas!"

  The whole face of the gulf between the reef and the shore was awilderness of raging water. The fisherman had hardly ceased speaking,when another of the coast people was seen hurrying down from the look-out.

  "There is a ship about eight miles to the sou'west, with canvasclose hauled; but I don't think that she will be able to weather thepoint."

  "If she cannot, then she must run for the harbour, and there will beno light," Nancy exclaimed; and the colour faded out of her browncheek. Then borrowing a telescope from one of the fishermen, she setout for the top of the look-out. While she held the glass in hertrembling hands she saw the ship wear and turn her head toward theharbour. Gathering her plaid shawl hastily about her shoulders, sheran down the steep and returned to the dock.

  "The ship is running for the harbour, and there _must_ be a light. Here,help me to launch my boat."

  "Is the girl mad!" two or three voices exclaimed at once.

  "Girl," said the old man who had spoken before, "no small boat thatever swam can reach yonder ledge now. Why do you want to throw awayyour life? It cannot save the ship."

  "The boat is light," Nancy replied, "and the canvas covering willkeep it from filling, if I can only manage always to meet the seahead on. If I had a pair of after oars as well as my own there wouldnot be much difficulty." As she spoke these words, she looked at thegroup, as if calling for a volunteer: but nobody took her hint. Theyall cowered in the face of the gale, and some of them began to moveaway from the dock.

  "Then I must go alone," the girl said, as she threw off her shawl,and hastily tied up her mane of soft, black hair. "You will surelyhelp me to launch the boat." But no hand would help her. They saw theimpetuous girl going to doom, and they would not be a party to hermadness. Getting three or four round pieces of driftwood, which wereslippery with water-slime, she laid them along the dock; two otherbillets she placed under the boat's keel. Then gathering her strengthfor one pull, she sent the boat into the churning surf. One of thefishermen advanced to detain her, but she waved him back with agesture so determined and imperious that he hesitated. He then heldconsultation with his friends. Two or three now hurried down to thewater's edge, but the boat had shot out beyond their reach, and wasalready rising like some great sea-bird over the mad waves. The girlhad seized her oars and was rowing at a brisk rate toward the ledge.Sometimes a huge, green, glittering wave would arise and roll towardsthe shell, and the fishermen would close their eyes; but in responseto the rower's quick wrist, the little skiff would turn and climbover the roaring crest of the terrible billow. Sometimes the boat wasnowhere to be seen, and one of the spectators would say to another,

  "It is all over!"

  Presently, however, the cockle would rise out of the trough andappear upon the summit of a breaking sea, looking like a large,crouching, sea-gull. On, steadily, the mite of a craft held its way,sometimes heading directly for the reef, again swerving to the rightto mount a rampant billow. Smaller, and smaller grew the littlefigure, till it became a mere white speck away in the driving mist.The fishermen still remained huddled together in the dock; and asone, with the telescope in his hand, announced that the girl was nowwithin a cable's length of the reef, a great look of shame came intotheir faces, that not one had shown courage enough to go with her. Asfor Nancy, in the midst of the ravening turmoil, she was cool of headand steady of arm, pulling with a sturdy stroke, and constantlyturning her face to note the waves to be met with the full front ofthe skiff. Sometimes the cross wash from a sea would smite the boatupon the quarter, and for a moment expose it to destruction; but inresponse to the girl's quick judgment and steady wrist, the boldlittle prow would be instantly brought again in the face of thetempest. In one continuous storm the spray drove over her, and theskiff was more than half full of water. It was growing dark, and shecould barely distinguish the opposite shore. But the danger of thepassage was at last over, and her tiny craft was in the shelter ofthe gloomy reef.

  There was a windlass bolted to the rock, with which she drew theskiff beyond the reach of the waves. Nimbly then she climbed the reeftill she reached the door of the tower. A few seconds later all thefishermen saw the warm, yellow glare of the light streaming over theturbulent water.

  Nancy was happy now, and her large eyes strained through the lanternof the tower to catch sight of the ship. She had not long to wait.Between the reef and the long stretch of eastern shore, a red lightpulsed upon a wave, moving towards the harbour.

  "Good!" the girl cried out, "she is midway in the channel and safe."Then she descended to the basement, where she brewed a cup of tea,and sat down to a supper of cold sea-fowl, and juicy, white bread ofher own baking.

  The sleeping rooms were upon the middle story, but the girl began togrow uneasy at the increasing violence of the hurricane, and wouldnot go to bed. Taking a book, she went to the lantern and sat upon abox to read. The whistling of the wind around the glass and the domeof zinc, the booming of the sea against the rock, and the brawling ofthe waters around her produced such a tumultuous din that personsspeaking in the tower would be unable to hear each other.

  Then dawned a new terror; and she looked upon the floor withwide-opened eyes and blanched lips. Twice since its establishment,during winter gales, had the tower been swept off the rock. It is truethe present structure was substantially built, and was firmly securedto long iron "stringers" bolted to the solid rock; yet the sea wasalready surging against the base of the tower, and at every blow theedifice quivered till the machinery of steel and brass rang like anumber of little bells. Upon
the grated, iron pathway running aroundthe lantern inside, she took her stand, and, thence, looked out. Thelight streamed far beyond the ledge and revealed the full fury of thesea. The agitated waters would recede from the reef upon the windwardside like a jumper who runs backward, that he may be able to leapwith greater force; then gathered up to the stature of a hill andcrowned with roaring foam, it would return with soft tread, butterrible might, scaling the rock, and flinging its white arms aroundthe waist of the tower. Throughout the tumult, flocks of sea-birds,driven from the surface, and bewildered in the dense darkness of thestorm, would fly for the light and smite the lantern; and then theywould fall backward into the surf, as if struck with a thunderbolt.Other creatures flew with more care; and Nancy shuddered as she sawthe gleaming eyes of huge fish hawks outside, and beheld their duskywings waving at the panes.

  Many an hour of terror passed with no employment for the tremblingwatcher, save when the lamps grew dim and she moved from her standingplace to snuff the wick and turn more flame. Stepping nervously downto the basement she found that it lacked only a quarter of fouro'clock. In half an hour it would be dawn, and she was cheered by thethought as she re-ascended.

  But how could a frail, wooden tower withstand these terrible shocks!As she trod the spiral stairs, the whole edifice trembled andcreaked. Once, under a tremendous surge, she felt it reel. Shehurried again to the iron pathway and looked out. Billow after billowcame sweeping up the ledge, and did not pause till it smote the verylantern with its soft foam.

  "Oh! merciful God deliver me!" the girl cried, as she espied far outa wave far more terrible and gigantic than any other which herfrightened eyes had seen. Before it reached the reef, she believedthat its storming crest was on a level with the lantern. Then itseemed as if the whole ocean, aroused to strike one overwhelmingblow, fell in thunder upon the tower. Nancy was conscious of beinghurled rapidly through space; then followed a crashing sound, anoverturning and a confusion that no pen could describe. The tower wasin the sea.

  She could never explain how it came about, but when she recoveredfrom the shock she was floating close by one of the tower floors. Thedawn had broken in glaring gray, and she was enabled to perceive hersituation. The lower part of the tower was uppermost, and the lanternwith its weight of machinery was beneath. Yes, God had heard hersupplication; and, comparatively safe from the billows, she clung toa piece of timber, projecting above the floor. She was certain thatthe storm was abating; yet the wreck was drifting rapidly toward theinexorable rocks. Wave after wave passed over the uppermost part ofthe tower, and sometimes the water smote her so that her head reeled,and her senses became dimmed for some moments. A coil of rope hungfrom a spike in the wall, and fastening an end of it around her slimwaist, she bound herself to a stout piece of timber.

  A young man, passenger in the ship which the girl had saved, heardof the heroism of the light-keeper's daughter. As soon as light came,through promise of a liberal reward, he induced one of the sailors tocome with him in the launch. Near the shore they met the floatingtower, and saw lying upon the top, and bound there with a rope, thegirl who had risked her life to save the vessel. They believed thatshe was dead, so pale was her beautiful face; and the coils of hersoft hair were trailing in the surging water. But she was not dead,and, placed in the warm cabin of the delivered ship, soon opened hergreat, timorous eyes.

  Now, that my story may seem like a novel, I may add that the braveyoung fellow who rescued Nancy was often seen afterwards about thegirl's home. Indeed I doubt if the two were ever parted.