CHAPTER XI
Investing Hard-earned Dollars
Barely six months had passed since Joe Bradley took passage to Canadaand became one of the ever-growing army of immigrants who yearly ascendthe mighty St. Lawrence river and are scattered throughout theprovinces of the Dominion. The days had flown since his landing, andbut for that long chase of Hurley, the murderer, scarcely an event hadhappened to break through the orderliness of his day's duties. Nolonger was he a greenhorn, either. His knowledge of farming as it ispractised in England may be said to have been still extremely small,but of farming in the Dominion he knew almost enough to manage aquarter section of his own.
"Not that I advise it," said the cautious and knowing Peter. "You'reover young yet to face the worries which must come to a landowner, andyou could do with more capital. So you take the advice of one who'stried, and go as a labourer a bit longer. Meanwhile, you could putthat 'ere money you've saved into something likely to make it growwhilst you're prospecting with Hank."
Joe had, in fact, saved quite a respectable amount, for it must beremembered that his personal expenses were extremely small, while hiswages were good. Moreover, the dollar bills which Hurley had stolenfrom him had been recovered when that individual was captured, thoughthe precious letter left him by his father seemed to have been lost forever.
"It war a piece of luck, I do declare," said Peter. "Ef he'd gone offalong the railway there would have been a different tale to tell. Joeaer fortunate to have come out of that mess with his life, and stillmore lucky to have got back his dollars. As to the letter, there ain'tno saying if it war valuable. P'raps not; least, that's what I'mhoping. And now the thing's to invest his savings so as they'll growwhile he's away prospecting. Seems to me, Hank, as ef this here place,as well as the settlement right up agin the railroad, might soon getbig. The land's good for working. The crops this year has beenfirst-class, and some of our boys has won prizes for their wheat.There's Jim, fer instance. His was nigh the heaviest yield per acrethat there's been recorded, while the grain weighed mighty heavy to thebushel. In course the papers prints and publishes all these things,and people gets to know. There's been strangers hereabouts looking fersections to take up come the summer. Wall?"
Hank was not the one to give an opinion offhand. He cogitated a greatdeal, and as a rule his faithful little pipe helped him considerably,or rather it appeared to help him, for it was his invariable custom tofill it on such occasions, set fire to the weed, and sit crouched intoa ball, holding the pipe between two of his shapely fingers while hestared into the open. In this case there was no open, for they wereseated in Mrs. Strike's parlour, and Hank had perforce to stare intothe open stove, which is part and parcel of every settler's dwelling.
"Never did see such a man!" exclaimed Mrs. Strike impatiently. "He'sall movement, you tell me, when he's off in the forest; but here, whenyou want his advice, he jest sits down and blinks, till you feel as efyou could shake him. I ain't got no patience with the man."
Peter grinned widely; he was accustomed to his wife's ways--and Joealso--knowing well that it was all playfulness on her part. As forHank, the little man whom nothing daunted, as a rule, he pulled heavilyat his pipe and looked as if he might take to his heels and run away.He glanced askance at Mrs. Strike, till the good woman smiled at him.
"I'm only teasing you," she explained, with a laugh. "But, dear, dear!you do amuse me. Seems to me as ef I shouted you'd be scared almostout of your life."
That set Hank grinning also--a nervous grin--then he became solemn, formatters which concerned the welfare of Joe needed the utmost attention.
"I'm with you, Peter," he said at last. "Down by the railroadthings'll move soon. A few dollars laid out in town plots wouldn'tcome to harm, while ef we was both to apply for quarter sections righthere, we could sell 'em at the break of winter to new settlers anxiousnot to be too far out. What about Hurley's, by the way?"
"That aer fer sale now," came the answer. "He didn't do much to it,and there don't seem no one wanting it just now, which are natural,seeing that winter's here. Come next spring it'll be asked for."
"Then there's Joe's chance. Ef he ain't got enough dollars, I'll chipin with him. Eh?"
"Ready and willing," agreed Joe. "I like the idea immensely. Hank andI are off into the woods prospecting, and we're not likely to want muchcash. Seems to me it's a wise thing to put what I have where it maygrow during my absence. I'll apply for a quarter section right here.It's a condition of the Government that all settlers shall fence theirsections in a given time, and break so much of the virgin ground. Ican't do that now, as we have hard frosts, and things are too cold forworking. In the spring, if I like to, I can tackle the job. If not, Ican sell; then I'll buy Hurley's if I can, and sell that again also."
Buying and selling is the life and soul of Canada. Land speculatorspurchase from the Government with the sole idea of selling to those whofollow, and see in the land for sale something with greater attractionsthan that offered free by the authorities. Again, men must fail insuch a country, and here and there are always to be found thoseunfortunate enough to have to offer their sections, on which they mayhave expended much toil already. Whereas a quarter section of virginland, extending to one hundred and sixty acres in all, may be of littlevalue when unbroken, broken and fenced it is almost always ofconsiderably enhanced value; for breaking and fencing mean theexpenditure of labour, and labour is terribly hard to come by at timesin the Dominion.
"We'll go along and see into the matter to-morrow, then," said Peter,when the question had been further discussed. "Jest throw on a log ortwo, Joe; it's cold enough to freeze one even inside the shack."
Those few days which followed gave our hero some idea, though not acomplete one, it must be acknowledged, of the life of settlers inCanada during the long and severe winter which visits the land. Thereare those who dread the winter. One meets occasionally a man who hasreturned to England because of the Canadian winter, because of theinertia it brings to great stretches of the country, stopping alloutside work, and, on the farms, cutting off neighbours fromintercourse with one another. At other times it is the loneliness andsilence of the life which send would-be settlers away; but not veryoften. There are scores and scores who put up with the winter as we inEngland put up with decidedly dispiriting weather, resting tranquillyand passing the idle hours as best they can, knowing well that aglorious summer will surely follow.
"Not that there's fogs and suchlike," explained Peter, when telling Joeof the life. "Most days its beautifully sunny and bright, though thethermometer may be down below zero. And as to stayin' indoors all thewhile, that we don't. Most of us has knocked up runners, on which weput the rigs when we've stripped the wheels from 'em. Jim down belowthar being a bachelor, with plenty to spend, and being also a good bitof a sportsman, has dogs, and his team drags him from shack to shack,specially round about Christmas. Even the school children get toschool on their snowshoes. There ain't no difficulty about thatneither, onless the weather's too altogether bad, for the Governmentbuild schools fer each settlement. There only wants to be a matter ofseven children, and up goes a stone-built school, and a mistress who'sproperly trained for the job gets a lodging in the nearest shack, or inthe school itself, and starts off to teach the youngsters. As to work,wall, I finds heaps. Winter's jest the time for papering the walls ofthe shack or fer doing a bit of painting. There's furniture wantsmaking, and last winter I and the hand that stayed with us built a newstable. This time I'll whitewash all the outhouses, as well as thefowlhouse."
"And for me there's enough and to spare to keep me from being idle orfrom grumbling," interjected Mrs. Strike. "There's the house, in thefirst place, with the beds to make and sichlike. There's food to becooked fer all, including the chickens, which have hot stuff every daythrough the winter. And ef I'm dull with looking at Peter there, I'veonly to go to the telephone and ring up Mrs. George Bailey. A realnice woman that, Joe. She's a h
elp to her husband, she is, and thatcan't be said of every woman who's come out from England and has livedher life till then in a villa just outside London, with never anygreater difficulty to provide for her family than that of steppingalong the street to the nearest shop. If they was all like her,there's many settlers would be more successful."
It was clear that Peter and his wife could have kept on discussing thistheme for an hour or more; and to those who knew them it was equallycertain that these two worthy souls practised exactly as they preached.They had faced the difficulties and the privations often met with ingreater number by early settlers, and they had succeeded. Peter was aman who, thanks to hard work and a genial temperament, had made asuccess of his quarter section, so that the land which had lain barefor centuries before was now entirely tilled, and yielded handsomely tohis efforts. In fact, from the position almost of a pauper, the manhad advanced to a point where he earned a handsome income that was morethan sufficient for his needs, and allowed him to put by many dollarsduring the course of a year.
"And it ain't finished there," he told Joe and Hank gleefully, whendilating on the subject. "There's the quarter section. It's worth atidy heap of dollars--more'n a thousand pounds in English money--andthat's what I could get any day of the year. But I don't stand still,not never."
"I've had my eyes around, and have gone in as a partner with a brotherof mine who came out to Canada at the same time. We worked togetherfor a while, then he went west into British Columbia. Wall, he took upfruit land when irrigation wasn't much more'n dreamed of and, withdollars I put to his, bought two sections close handy. They're goldmines. He's been able to get labour, and seeing that he has a largefamily of sons and daughters able to work and help, why, it's onlyneeded honest work to tickle the soil and put in the trees to turn overa fine penny; the land does all the rest. It's that fertile it growsastonishing crops of apples, while peaches, strawberries, and sichlikedo thundering well. Tom--that's my brother--was mighty wise and luckytoo; he took up ground within easy reach of Vancouver, so that healways has a close market for his goods, putting aside the fact that itallowed him to watch things going on, and buy other bits of land whenhe thought they were likely to go up in value. That's where some of mydollars has gone. Me and the missus will be sellin' up one o' thesefine days, and going west where it's warmer."
Joe was bound to admit that the cold did not trouble him. Not that thewinter had as yet set in in full severity, though there had been heavyfrosts and a fall of snow; but, as Peter had told him, he always foundwork to do. Even those few days before departing with Hank werestrenuous ones. There were logs to saw for the stove, for the hugeiron thing which warmed the shack, and which is essential to a Canadianwinter, ate timber wholesale. Then there were the cattle to be tendedto--for they required feeding, since they could not graze forthemselves--there were the pigs also, while always water was wantedinside the shack, and must be drawn from the well which had been one ofPeter's labours.
Of an evening, too, while the weather was so open, George and hisbrother, Jim and other neighbours would drive over, and there would bea jovial supper, followed by a dance, when Mrs. Strike bustled Joetremendously, till the rough furniture was cleared aside and theboarded floor made ready for the dancers. Then it was Hank's turn, andsometimes Jim's, though Hank was the one who usually obliged. Seatedcross-legged in a corner, his face as serious as if he had an army ofRedskins after him, the curious and lovable little fellow would bendover his concertina and send forth such notes, that dancing became easyeven to the most clumsy.
Those were jolly days. The jovial and friendly fellow who had come outfrom England had found not a set of desperadoes in the settlers of theDominion, but men and women just as he had known at home, with only thedifference which climate and environment necessarily bring. Hardworkers, they liked Joe because he was like them in that, and becauseof his modesty. They liked him, too, because of his open admiration ofthe country of his adoption and the life he led.
"Ef they was all like you there never wouldn't be any squabbling," saidPeter; "but Canadians is getting to understand the Britisher better.He's coming out in greater numbers now, and sense he and we are thebackbone of the country, why, we're fools if we ain't friends."
It was on a bright, clear, frosty morning that Hank and Joe climbedinto Peter's rig and, with that worthy driving, set off for the neareststation. Mrs. Strike wiped her eyes as they went, for she wasgenuinely fond of them, while Tom shook Joe's hand as if he wouldwrench it off and hold it as a keepsake. An hour later they wereaboard the train, and could see Peter driving back home to thesettlement.
"Guess he's a good fellow, and deserves to succeed," said Hank,settling himself into a corner. "When next we see him it'll be springor later hereabouts, and things will have changed wonderfully.There'll be a pile of people here compared with what's settled now.That's always the case; every year makes a huge difference. Shouldn'twonder if the plots you've bought didn't bring you in a small fortune;but of course it's a toss up."
Joe watched the surroundings as they pulled out of the station, notingthe many shacks in the distance, and the fact that nearer the railwaysome of the older settlers had replaced their log dwellings byneatly-boarded houses. It was close to some of these that he himself,with the advice of Hank and Peter, had purchased certain portions ofvacant ground in the hope that, as time passed, a township might springup, and thereby make his purchases more valuable. As to Hurley'squarter section, the winter being on them, it happened that there wasno one who cared to purchase, and Joe had picked it up at a very modestfigure.
"You jest forget all about them things and set yer mind to theexpedition we're after," said Hank, after a while. "Fust we goes alongto Sudbury, where we can buy all that we want; then we sets off forFennick's. Guess we'll put in a week with him, and then strike off forthe country we're after. Maybe we'll get a bit of huntin', and seemsto me we should be wise, for a pelt or two will be useful forbedcovering. Of course you've got to be able to stand the cold,youngster. There's lots would think this job but madness. But a mancan easy stand the winter ef he's in hard condition, and particularlyef he's in amongst the forests. As to bear, why, seeing as theyhibernate, there ain't much chance of meeting the beasts, though it dohappen sometimes that one of them gets disturbed, and then, ef he ain'ttoo sleepy, jest you look out fer ructions. I don't know of any animalthat's so tarnation dangerous as a bear, 'cept perhaps a caribou, andhe's jest every bit as bad as, they tell me, is a rhinoceros. Everhunted, lad?"
Joe was forced to admit that he had not. "Never had the chance," heanswered. "Minding a cycle shop for Father didn't give oneopportunities of going hunting, and besides, there isn't much to be hadin England, not of the sort you mean."
Of a sudden, as they sped along in the train, his thoughts went back tothe little township in which he had spent his boyhood, till the momenthad arrived for him to emigrate. He could not help but contrast hiscondition here in Canada with what it had been there, and with what itmight have been had he remained. Travel and the wide expanse of NewOntario lands had broadened Joe's mind, as it is bound to broaden theoutlook that any traveller takes of the world. Joe was, in fact,beginning to realize that there is some truth in the statement thattravel is one of the finest educations.
"In course it is," asserted Hank, when he broached the subject, withthe idea of starting up a conversation with the little hunter. "Howcould it fail to be? Don't I know the lives of them stay-at-homes.They work hard, no doubt. They does their whack of toil that helps tomake the earth turn round, as you might say, and keep things hummin';but, 'cept for the papers and sichlike, they ain't got two ideas as towhat other people's like, what they does with themselves, and how theylives. And there's more, too, ef I could tell you. Stay-at-homes issometimes narrow-minded. Narrow-mindedness gives rise to suspicion, sothat it follows that men who are ignorant of one another's affairs andof all that concerns 'em is often not too good friends. That's how itis with natio
ns. One don't know the other, and suspects all sorts ofthings. Wall, see what's happenin'. The railways and the steamshipsand them motor cars has made a deal of difference. People move about aheap these days and see other people. So they get to understand 'em,and, understandin' them, they see as they ain't much different tothemselves; also, they see that their intentions are just as friendlyas their own. And what follows? Why, better understanding, and theway is paved to international friendships. Dear, how jawin' do tire aman! I'm on fer a smoke."
He shut up like the proverbial oyster, leaving Joe to go on immersed inhis own particular brown study. He was wondering now what the Fennickshad been doing with themselves, for though he had had a few lines fromthem, he had had but the scantiest information; he had heard, in fact,that they had settled, and that was all. Whether they had beenfortunate in finding exactly the class of surroundings they desired,and whether the land they had chosen was rich, he had no idea. This heknew, they were a two-days' march from the railway, so that he and Hankhad a long step before them.
"Guess we'll fill up at Sudbury," said Hank, after a while. "There's agun wanted fer you, and ammunition for both of us. A shooter, too,ain't out of the way. We shall require warm clothing, too, thoughwe'll trust to our shooting to get us pelts and make the most of those.A kettle, a fry-pan, and a few sich trifles will fill our kit, and thenwe'll step it to the Fennicks'. Guess we ain't so far from Sudburynow."
They found all they required in the town to which they had booked onthe railway, and laid out quite a number of dollars in buyingnecessaries for their journey; for Hank insisted that salt, sugar,coffee, and tea were as necessary to them as were bullets. Each boughtthree pairs of thick socks, as well as roughly-fashioned fur gloves.The cooking equipment presented no difficulties, while neither botheredto buy extra boots.
"They'd load us up, that's all," said Hank; "besides, they ain't no usewith snowshoes. You wait a bit till we're well away. We'll bag a fewbeasts that will give us skins, and then ef Hank can't make moccasinsand caps and sichlike, why, all his eddication in the woods is lost.We've got enough as it is to carry, and come the time we reaches up atFennicks' we'll be sorry we brought so much."
"What about some sort of covering for the night?" asked Joe, who was asyet ignorant on such matters.
"Coverin'?" asked Hank, scratching his head.
"Yes; surely we shall need it. It'll be frightfully cold, that is, ifthe story I have heard is true."
"True enough, lad," agreed Hank; "only, yer see, you and I'll be movin'every day, and exercise on snowshoes warms a man's blood. I know lotsof young fellows who go off from their farms when snow's lyin'everywhere and the thermometer is 'way down below zero; but theirshirts is open in front jest as ef it war summer, while they ain't gotno use fer gloves. We'll be much the same, while at night a lean-to--adouble lean-to, you understand--made by driving two forked sticks intothe snow and laying one across the forks, with others leaning up aginit, will give us a crib that couldn't be beaten fer warmth. I kin hearfolks that stays at home always shiverin' talkin' of rheumatism; butthere ain't nothing of that. A man who starts healthy through aCanadian winter can keep healthy. Of course there's blizzards, andnasty, dangerous things they are! I've laid in one of them lean-toshacks as I've mentioned fer a week together till the snow was pileddeep over the top, and would ha' broken through ef I hadn't crawled outevery few hours and beaten it down. Cold? It warn't! It war hotinside that 'ere crib. As fer lonely, wall, to some folks it might be,but to me and mates like me--no, not bit! There's always a gun wantscleaning; logs has to be broke and the fire kept going, and there's teaand sichlike to prepare; while in between a man's got his pipe, and cansmoke and think. Thinkin' ain't bad fer a man, nor fer a woman, ef itcomes to that. There's many a time 'way back in my life when I mightha' done different and better. Wall, then, rememberin' that aer good;it's a sort of eddication. Then there's friends that you've knowed andhad high times with. Guess it's when a man gets stuck up in ablizzard, with only his pipe to smoke, that he gets thinking of his oldpals, wondering what they're doing, where they are, and how the worldaer going fer them generally."
"But what about frostbite?" asked Joe, for that was a bogy which hadbeen presented to him in glaring colours.
Hank laughed, a silent little laugh which shook every inch of his frailbody. "Them old woman's tales was invented to scare new folks out fromhome," he said. "There's frostbites and there's frostbites. I ain'tsaying that they don't exist, but a hunter don't often get 'em, unlesshe's held up somewheres and can't get cover. His blood runs strong andhot most times, and the frost don't touch him. But it's the man whoain't used to the cold, and who huddles up in a shack most of the day,that gets bitten. Ef he's sensible, or has sensible friends, it don'tmake much harm to him. Ef not, like as not he loses a toe or a finger,or maybe a foot, though it's rare, so far as I'm able to reckon. Youain't likely to get bit; a chap same as you, who's always on the hop,gets his blood runnin' all the time. Don't you give a thought to it,Joe."
Having stayed in the town sufficiently long to complete theirequipment, Joe and Hank finally took the track for that part of thecountry in which the Fennicks had settled. The weather was still quiteopen, though cold. But the bracing air agreed wonderfully with themboth, and though there was not the smallest need for haste, theystepped out strongly, sending the miles rapidly behind them. It wassome distance outside the town that they came upon a party oftravellers riding in, and recognized Mike, the policeman, as one ofthem.
"Hallo, Mike!" sang out Hank. "Been after more of them 'ere murderers?How'd the case go with Hurley? This here Joe ha' been waitin' case heshould be called for evidence; but he heard a while ago as he warn'tlikely to be wanted."
The face of the huge policeman, already tanned a deep colour, went redunder his tan, while an expression of annoyance flitted across hisfeatures.
"We made a muss of that 'ere thing, Hank," he declared. "Joe wasn'tcalled for the simple reason that the folks who'd taken Hurley incharge let him give 'em the slip. He got clear away, and I'm jest nowreturning after a chase. He's gone--where, I don't know. But he's gotclear, which aer a bad nuisance. Jest you mind that you don't come upagin him. He's not the one to forget old scores, and he'd rub it in efhe'd the power. Wall, so long! I must get back and report; someone'sgoing to get trouble over this business."
They parted where they had met, Hank and Joe pushing onward still at asharp pace.
"I'm jest sorry that Hurley got clear," said Hank, after a while, as ifhe had been thinking the matter out. "He's a bad man aer Hurley, andbad men away in the wilds are apt to bring trouble to people. I'veknowed one who took up with a party of Redskins wandering in theforests, and, gee! he didn't stop at anything. He'd made bad troublebefore the police rounded him up and shot him down. Let's hope weshan't knock across this Hurley. Now, lad, guess we'll do another mileor so and then fix our camp fer the night. Looks ter me as ef it mightsnow, so we'll be wise to make all snug and tidy."
They came to a halt finally beside a small wood, and, penetrating to apart where the trees were of considerable size, deposited theirbelongings on the ground.
"Don't do to camp where it's damp, in the fust place," explained Hank."Where there's muskegs the trees soon rot, and ef a wind springs up youmight have the trunks coming about your ears, to say nothing of rottenbranches. This place is high and dry, and the trees, being stout andwell inside the wood, will stand up to a gale. Now fer that shack Iwas talking about. Look out fer a tidy long-forked stick, and ferother straight ones to lay across."
Hank was evidently a past master at all that appertained to camping,for even without Joe's aid he would soon have erected the shack.Taking two forked sticks, he drove the straight end in each case asdeeply into the ground as he was able; a third was laid over the forks,and then a number were allowed to lean against the one laidhorizontally. Thus a species of _tente d'abri_ was constructed, and aroofing quickly put to it, by the simpl
e means of slashing off sprucetwigs and branches and laying them on top.
"That ain't always enough," explained Hank. "Ef there's a bad wind, itwould blow all them branches away. But it don't take long to cut turfsor to peg the branches down, whichever you've a fancy for. Seein' asthe ground in here ain't over-hard, we'll take turfs; the wind won'thurt 'em, and ef it turns to rain instead o' snow, why, not a drop'llfall through. Now fer a bed--one between us, mate, for we'll becompanions in every way. A pile of these spruce twigs will suit uswell; then we'll light the fire and get the kettle going. A pot of teawith a morsel to bite won't come amiss after our march. How do yerthink you'll like prospecting?"
Joe did not think; he was emphatic about the matter, for the fartherthey went the better he enjoyed the trip. He busied himself now withthe fire, for, during the chase of Hurley, George Bailey had taught himmuch that concerned the culinary portion of a camp. Then he produced asmall loin of pork, and, cutting portions from it, soon had themsizzling over the flames.
"My, what with the smell of these here spruce boughs and that 'erepork, it makes a hunter's mouth jest water!" declared Hank, sittingdown to watch Joe, and smoking the pipe which he loved so much. "Seehere, youngster, while you're gettin' supper ready I'll collect a fewmore logs. There's never any sayin' what sort of weather we may have,and ef we was short of firin' we'd have to eat cold grub, which ain'tover fanciful, I kin tell you."
By the time he was back in the camp Joe had a number of pieces of porkcooked, and was fain to admit himself that the smell of cooking themwas most appetizing. Then, as the shades of night drew in, he andHank--as strangely an assorted couple as one could well come upon--satdown in the entrance of their humble shack and, wrapping blankets abouttheir shoulders, ate their supper, enjoying every mouthful of it asothers cannot do, even your gourmet set before the most recherche mealthat was ever invented; for an active open-air life gives zest toeverything. Your traveller does not complain of the toughness of hissteak or of the weakness of his tea. He is thankful for all that isset before him, and with appetite sharpened by exercise, and tastesunspoiled and unpampered by a multiplicity of viands and etceteras,eats heartily, thankful that there is food to be had, mindful perhapsof other times when he went hungry.
"Wind's turned," stated Hank, as he rose after supper. "It's got awayround, and we're in for a north-easter. That mostly brings snow, so Ishouldn't wonder ef we was buried nigh the mornin'. That meanssnowshoes, and it aer a lucky thing that I brought all the fixings.There's many as buys their snowshoes. I ain't one of them. Ever senseI was as high as a table I've made 'em myself. Throw on another log,Joe, and let's get snug down inside. And jest for a moment have a lookat our shack. You can see that I've faced it so that the opening lookswest and south. Ef there's snow from the north-east it won't enter soeasy, though, in course, there'll be eddies in here amongst the trees,and some of it'll be blowed in."
Tossing branches on the fire, Joe soon joined his comrade, when the twowrapped their blankets round them and were quickly asleep; but atmidnight they were awakened by noise without, and crept to the exit oftheir shack.
"Blowin' moderate," said Hank, "and my, ain't it snowin'! Luckythere's a moon. It makes it look as ef the weather wouldn't beoutrageous."
Joe was enchanted when he looked out into the forest. It was his firstreal taste of a Canadian winter; for here, besides the cold blast whichwhistled amongst the trees, there was snow. Flakes eddied and twirledeverywhere. They came sidling down upon the shack as if afraid todisturb the campers. They had already formed a white carpet over theground, while many a branch was groaning beneath the added weight.Under the rays of a pale, wintry moon the scene was simply enchanting.
"Beautiful!" declared our hero. "And just fancy being in camp at sucha time! It would make them all sit up and have fits away back in OldEngland."
"It'd make men of some of them that needs changin'," grunted Hank."You jest wait a tidy bit. This ain't nothing to what we'll get beforewe've done with the winter. But let's creep back agin'. It ain't toowarm outside, and reckon the inside of that 'ere shack aer ascomfortable as a feather bed under the roof of a palace."
It was, in fact. Joe's head hardly touched the heaped pillow of twigswhen he fell asleep, and slumbered on, oblivious of the increasingsounds without and of the silent snowflakes settling overhead.
A Boy of the Dominion: A Tale of Canadian Immigration Page 11