CHAPTER VI.
ADDITIONS TO THE PARTY.--AN INDIAN OUTFIT.--A CONTESTED ELECTION.
The following day was Sunday, and was spent as most Sabbaths are spentby similar parties in such out-of-the-way places. A few members of thehousehold drove off across the ice of the Western Bar to a littlecountry church; but the goose-shooters cared not to display their halfsavage dress, and tanned and blistered faces, to the over-closeinspection of the church-going farmers and their curious "_womenfolks_."
Accordingly, Risk passed most of the day luxuriously stretched out onthe sofa, reading the Church Magazine, while Davies, on the oppositeside of the fire, in the recesses of an arm-chair covered with a buffalorobe, devoted the larger portion of his time to the Weekly Wesleyan.Creamer, after a cursory glance at a diminutive prayer-book, spent mostof the day in a comparison of sea-going experiences and apocryphaladventures with Captain Lund, in much the same manner as two redoubtablemasters of fence employ their leisure in launching at each other'simpregnable defence, such blows as would prove mortal against lessskilled antagonists.
By the middle of the afternoon Lund had related his sixth story, beingthe veracious history of how one Louis McGraw, a famous fishing-skipperof Mingan, rode out a tremendous gale on the Orphan Bank, with bothcables out, the storm-sail set, her helm lashed amidships, and the crewfastened below as tightly as possible. It is hardly worth while todetail how the crew were bruised and battered by the terrible rolling ofthe schooner; it may be left to the imagination of the intelligentreader when he learns that, when the storm abated, the skipper found,besides innumerable "kinks" in the cables, and sea-weed in the rigging,_both topmasts broken short off_, indubitable proof, to the nauticalmind, that the Rechabite had been rolled over and over again, like anempty barrel, in that terrible sea.
Creamer had just begun, by way of retaliation, his favorite "yarn" ofthe ingenious diplomacy of one Jem Jarvis, his father's uncle, who,being wrecked "amongst the cannibals of Rarertonger," with a baker'sdozen of his shipmates, escaped the fate of his less accomplishedcomrades by his skill on the jewsharp, and an especial talent fordancing the double-shuffle, so that they gave him a hut to himself, twowives, and all he could eat, until he broke his jewsharp, and got fatand lazy, and then there was nothing to do but to run for it.
How Creamer's paternal relative extricated himself from his precariousposition will never be known, as, at this juncture, Ben and La Salle,respectively, weary of playing a limited _repertoire_ of psalm-tunes onthe concertina, and reading the musty records of a long-forgotten"_Sederunt_ of the quarterly Synod," as detailed in an old number of thePresbyterian Witness, interrupted the prolonged passage at arms by aninvitation, to all so disposed, "to take a walk around the island."
Lund, who had misgivings as to his ability to give Creamer "a Roland forhis Oliver," rose at once, and Creamer acceding more reluctantly, thefour set off, through a narrow wood-path, to a cleared field near thewestern extremity of the island.
At the verge of this field, a cliff of red sandstone, ribbed and seamedby centuries of weather-wear and beat of sea, overlooked the ample baywhich opens into the Straits of Northumberland at their widest point.Before them it lay covered with huge level ice-fields, broken only wheretide and storm had caused an upheaval of their edges, or a berg,degraded and lessened of its once lordly majesty, it is true, but stillgrand even in its decay, rose like a Gothic ruin amid a snow-covered anddesolate plain.
The sun was declining in the west, but his crimson rays gave warmth tothe picture, and the still air had, as it were, a foretaste of thebalmy revivifying warmth of spring. In the woods, close at hand, wereheard the harsh cawing of the crow, the shrill scream of the blue-jay,and the garrulous chatter of many a little family of warm-furred,pine-cone-eating little red squirrels.
Neither was animal life wanting elsewhere to complete the picture. Onthe ice could be counted, in different directions, no less thanseventeen flocks of Canada geese, some of them apparently on the watch,but the major part lying down, and evidently sleeping after their longand wearisome migration. In a single diminutive water-hole below thecliff, which probably marked the issue of one of the many subterraneansprings of the islet, a half-dozen tiny ouac-a-wees, or Moniac ducks,swam and dove in conscious security.
"I can't see any open water yet," said Creamer, "although it looks to mea little like a water-belt, alongshore, inside Point Prime."
"There's no more water-belt there," said Lund, "than there was music inyour great-uncle's jewsharp; but there's a spot off to the sou'-westthat looks to me a little like blue water."
"Blue water, indeed!" retorted Creamer; "who ever saw blue water onsoundings! I'll lay a plug of navy tobacco there isn't open water enoughthere away to float La Salle's gunning-float comfortably."
"Well, Hughie," slowly replied the practiced pilot, who was reallylittle disposed to vaunt his knowledge of coast and weather, "the tidewill soon decide whether you or I, or both of us, are right. It is justfull flood now, and the ice is pressed in so against the land, that Iknow there can be no openings along the Point, and but very small oneswhere I think it looks like one. It seems to me that a water-vapor isrising out there, by yonder high pinnacle just in range of the poolbelow the ice-foot; but the tide will soon let us know if there are anylarge leads open within a dozen miles."
"There's a sign in your favor," cried La Salle, pointing in thedirection of the supposed 'lead.' "There's a flock of Brent geese, andthey can't live away from open water. See, Ben, they are heading rightin for the East Bar, and if we were only there we might depend upon ashot."
La Salle was right; the flock of birds, identified plainly by theirsmaller size, their tumultuous order of flying, and especially by theirharsh, rolling call, like a pack of hounds in cry, swept in from sea,wheeled around one of the resting flocks of Canada geese, alighted nearthem, took flight again, and, sweeping in an irregular course over andamong the higher points of the icy labyrinth, disappeared behind theeastern promontory, as if in search of the open water, which winter hadso securely locked up in icy bonds.
As the sun sank behind the neighboring firs, his reddening light fell ona bright blue streak, which seemed to glow like a stream of quicksilverbetween two heavy bodies of "piled ice." With the ebb, the narrow,glittering canal began to widen, piercing nearer to the islet, until,heading towards the westward, it lay little more than four miles fromthe interested spectators. The shadowy pinions of many flocks ofwater-fowl were seen exploring its course, and the neighboring geese,one by one, took flight, and, with clamorous calls, winged their way toits borders.
"I give it up," said Creamer.
"Never mind, Hughie," said Ben, "I'll pay the wager; for, with openwater so close to us, the first good storm will soon sweep the bay clearto the bar."
"Yes, a sharp north-easter would soon do that for you; but all the heavywinds may be northerly and westerly for three weeks to come yet," saidLund; "I've known the ice to hold here until the first week of May."
"Well," returned La Salle, "I'm sure I hope it won't be so late thisyear, for the stock of flour on the island is very small, and many ofthe poor folks can't afford to buy any, and are living on potatoesalmost altogether. They say, too, that there is much suffering among thefarmers at the North Point."
"Yes," said Ben; "I saw a man from Lot Ten last week, and he said thatthe French were eating their seed-grain, and feeding their cattle, orsuch as were left alive, on birch and beech tops."
"That has happened often, since I can remember," said Lund, "and Isuppose is likely to after I am gone; but it seems to me that thosestupids might learn something by this time."
"It will occur to a greater or less degree, just as long as the islandis shut out from the rest of the world for nearly half the year. Thereare few men who have any just estimate of the amount of provisions andfodder necessary for the sustenance of a family and its cattle for solong a period as a half year, and when accident, or the unwontedbackwardness of the season, increases the number of mou
ths, or thelength of the cold term, it is hard for the farmer to decide onsacrificing the life of even a superannuated horse, or weakly yearling,in time to benefit the more valuable survivors."
"You're right, Charley," said Creamer; "that's what my father's unclesaid, when he was a mate on board the Semyramsis, in the Ingy Ocean. Theship was lost in a harricane, sir, and only seven was saved in thecaptain's gig--six able-bodied seamen and one passenger, a fat littlearmy ossifer. So my great-uncle, who were bosin, made an observation,and says he, 'There's just ten days' provision for seven men, and we'retwenty days to looard of Silly Bes (Celebes), if we only row ten miles aday. Now, we must row twenty miles a day; an' to do that, we must havefull rations an' somethin' to spare. Besides, the boat ort to be lighterto row well. So, as passengers don't count along of able-bodied seamen,I move we just get rid of the major on economical principles. All infavor say "Ay;" and they all said "ay" except the major, an' he justturned as white as a sheet.' An' then my great-uncle asked him if he'dgot anything to say why the resolution o' that meetin' shouldn't becarried out. Well, the major just grinned kind o' uggly, an' said that'he liked to see things done methodistically, if it were a littleirregular, an' he'd give his 'pinion after the rest.' So my uncle wenton, an' said, 'All contrary say, "No."' Well, no one said 'no;' an' thenmy great-uncle said, 'Well, major, nothin' remains but to carry out ourresolution; so please to vacate this boat; although, seein' as it's notdinner time for some hours yet, there's no need of hurry, unless youwish to have it over with.'
"'But,' says the major, 'your action is altogether unparlymentary. Youhaven't heard a word from _my_ friends.'
"'Friends! there ain't any one here on your side o' the question.'
"'You're mistaken, my friend,' said the major; an' he drew from his belta long Indian dagger that had been hid under his coat; 'there's one, anyhow.'
"'That ain't much account against a boat-hook,' said one of the men, ashe took one with a sharp spike from beneath the gunwale.
"'Lay that down, you beggar!' cried the little red-coat; and he pulledout of each side-pocket a four-barreled pistol,--for there were norevolvers in them days,--and the man laid down the boat-hook as quick asa flash. 'Now, men,' said the little ossifer, 'you'll see that we numberat least ten, and there's only six of you. Ah, here's to make us alittle more ekil;' and he just fired at a noddy that was flying over,and dropped him right into the stern-sheets. 'That'll help out ourrations some,' says he; 'and besides, you don't see what I'm sittin'on;' and, sure enough, he had histed into the boat a basket of port an'a whole case of cap'n's biscuit. 'Now,' says he, 'reconsider yourvardick.'
"An' they all voted down the first resolution, and he gave them a bottleof port to mix with their water every day, and when they were drinkingthe last bottle, they made Silly Bes, and got ashore all right; but myuncle always said that his calculations was right, and that it showedgreat weakness on the part of the men not to carry them out."
"Well, Hughie," said Ben, "you've kept us here a good half hour laterthan tea time, and Mrs. Lund will think we've done well to waste hertime in listening to your stories."
"Well, we can see enough to assure us that the ice won't break up on thebar to-morrow," said Lund; "but you may get your ice-boats ready atonce, for the next thaw, with a north-easter after it, will leave allclear along the ship channel to the harbor's mouth."
There was quite a pleasurable excitement among the stay-at-homes at thetea table, when the incipient breaking up of the ice was declared; foron the proximity of narrow feeding-grounds to the ice-houses dependedthe hopes of good sport of our adventurers. To be sure they had thus farhad nothing to complain of; but the geese killed had been merely"flight" geese, weary with long migration, thin with want of food, andseeking among the treacherous lures only a rest from their longwandering in the safe companionship of their own kind.
Very shortly after supper the whole household retired, but, save theaccustomed prayers, which few, either Catholic or Protestant, forget inthat still "unsophisticated" land, it is to be feared that the Sabbathwas to them little but a literal "day of rest," in its purest physicalsense.
Monday morning a glassy look to the snow-crust induced the youngermembers of the party to use their skates in going to their stands, andas La Salle drew his from his feet to deposit them in his undisturbedstand, his eyes caught, amid the distant ice-spires, the mazy flight ofwhat he took to be a flock of brent, headed in-shore.
Signaling to Davies to get under cover, he sprang into his own stand,and, crouching amid the straw, hastily drew over his black fur cap hislinen havelock, and looking well to the priming of his gun, sought thewhereabouts of the swift-flying birds.
Unlike the slower Canada geese, these birds seldom fly high above thesurface of the water or ice when seeking food; and several times he lostsight of the flock, as it darted around a berg, or swung round thecircle of some secluded valley of the ice-field.
"H-r-r-r-r-huk! H-r-r-r-r-huk!" Their barbarous clamor, insufficientlyrendered in the foregoing, suddenly sounded close to leeward, and closeup against the light north-wester then blowing came the beautifulquarry, their small, black heads and necks showing as glossy as araven's wing, in contrast with the asheous hue of their wings, and thepure white of other parts of their plumage. With a wild, tumultuousrush, they circled in head-on over the decoys; and it was so quicklydone, that they had swept on fifty yards before La Salle could realizethat the leader of the flock was heading for Davies, and had nointention of surging around to his lures again.
"It will never do to let them get the first brent," muttered La Salle."She has a long-range cartridge in, and I'll try them."
Turning on his knees, he raised the ponderous gun until it "lined" theretreating flock, but elevated at least five feet above the birds, nownearly two hundred yards away. The heavy concussion reverberated acrossthe ice, and the fatal cartridge tore through the distant flight,picking out two of the twelve which composed the flock; and some of theshot, as both Davies and Creamer afterwards averred, rattled smartly inamong their decoys nearly four hundred yards away. The remaining birds,hurrying away from the dangers behind them, passed within range ofDavies and his companion, and left several of their number dead anddying on the ice; but the first brent of the season had fallen to LaSalle's gun.
The day was mild and without wind, and as but few birds were flying, LaSalle coiled himself down in the sunny corner of his stand, and drawingfrom his pocket the letter of which we have spoken in the last chapter,gave it a careful and deliberate perusal. As he closed, a smile,strangely expressing contempt, pity, and admiration, curled his lips, asin low but audible tones, as is often the habit of the solitary hunteror fisherman, he communed with his own heart.
"Ah, Pauline! time has brought no change to thy passionate, impulsive,unreasoning heart; and what thy biting tongue may not say, the pen willutter, though lapse of years and the waves of the Atlantic roll betweenus. Is it not strange that a woman's letter to her betrothed, beginningwith 'My own love,' and ending 'Until death,' can contain eightdouble-written pages of unreasonable blame, cruel innuendos, anddespicable revenge on the innocent? Well, we are betrothed, and shouldhave been married years ago, had not Fate or Providence stood in theway; and I suppose her life at home is far from pleasant, for herstep-mother is not one to let a good marriage go by, without remindingpoor Paulie of my general worthlessness; but I must say that my betterfinancial and matrimonial prospects offer little hope of addedhappiness."
His eye lit up a moment, and an expression of keen and almost cruelintent contracted his gaze; then, with a look of disdain, he seemed tothrow off some evil influence, and a look of pity softened his face.
"Yes, if I were to resent these affronts--for such they are--with onehalf the virulence which animates them, her pride would alienate usforever, and I should be free. There are few who would blame me, andmany who would scorn to do aught else. In truth I am almost decided toanswer this precious _billet-doux_ in the same vein in which it waswritten. Ah
, it was not all delusion that made yonder madman think thatevil spirits haunt these icy wastes. It was not thus I felt whentogether we voyaged across that summer sea; and the vows we plightedthen may not lightly be broken. I will answer patiently, and as becomesthe past. As to the future, it will bring due reward or punishment hereor hereafter."
From these somewhat morbid self-communings, which we introduce for apurpose hereafter to be disclosed, La Salle started, seized hisglittering skates, and taking his gun, glided with long, powerfulstrokes across the inner bay towards the ice-houses of the other party,which lay within the embouchure of Trois-Lieue Creek. The ice wasalmost perfectly level, save where a heavy drift had formed a smallmound around which it was better to steer, although the sleety crust hadfrozen so hard that the broad-runnered Belgian skates would run almostanywhere. At the first ice-house he found Risk and Davies, who had donelittle or nothing for some days, and talked of going home at the end ofthe week.
"Indian Peter gets about all the geese that go through here, and there'slittle show for us," said Davies.
"Where is his ice-house?" asked La Salle.
"Just up the cove--the nearest of those two," answered Risk.
"I guess I'll have a look at his outfit, and then go and meet the boysat the block-house, for they have never been here before, and the trackcan't be very plain now." So saying, La Salle skated up to the Indianstand, almost half a mile distant.
"One-armed Peter," as he was commonly called among his tribesmen, hadneither the means nor the inclination to deviate much from thetraditionary usages of his tribe, and was found kneeling, or, rather,"sitting man-fashion," as the vernacular Micmac hath it, although wecall it "tailor-fashion," within a circular, fort-like enclosure, sometwelve feet in circumference, and with walls about three feet high.
The latter were composed of thick slabs of ice placed on edge, andcemented together by frozen water, while tiny apertures, cut here andthere, enabled the crouching hunters to note every foot of the approachof their wary game. A few of the decoys were of pine wood, rudely carvedout and _burnt_ to something like the natural coloring of the bird theywere intended to represent; but a large proportion of them were"sea-weed" or "spruce" decoys; that is, bunches of the weather-boundsea-wrack, or bundles of evergreen twigs, made about the shape and sizeof the body of a goose.
These were elevated on blocks of snow-ice, which strikingly imitated, ata little distance, the hue of the under feathers, and a fire-blackenedstake set in the ice, at one end, with a collar of white birch bark atits junction, completed the rude but effective imitation. Such are theappliances which a hundred years ago brought the geese in thousandsunder the arrows of all the many tribes which range between the Straitsof Canso and the most northern inhabited regions about Hudson's Bay.
Within the enclosure a few armfuls of fir branches--laid upon the hardice, and kept carefully clear of snow, formed a soft floor, on which nowsat three hunters, Peter, and Jacob, and Louis Snake, much younger menthan he of the one arm. Each sat enveloped in the folds of a dingyblanket, and their guns rested against the icy walls--two of themrickety, long-barreled flint-locks; but Peter's new acquisition, a true"stub-twist," Hollis's double, was as good a fowling-piece as anysportsman needs.
True to their customs, the Indians were taciturn enough, although Peterthanked La Salle rather warmly for his new weapon.
"I find 'em good gun; not miss since I got 'em. Give t'other gun mynethew." And he pointed to the worst looking of the two antiquatedweapons, as Cleopatra may have surveyed her rather costlydrink-offering, with visible misgiving as to such reckless liberality.
"You were very kind, Peter. I suppose he has no family," said La Salle,smiling.
"Yes, me _berry_ kind my peeple," suavely responded the chief, a justpride beaming in his eyes. "That young man no family yet--only squawnow."
"It is evident that the average Indian doesn't understand a joke,"muttered La Salle, as he said "Good by" to the motley trio, and dartedoff to meet a distant group, which he rightly judged to be the expectedboys.
Twenty minutes later he had joined the little party, who were proceedingat a slow dog-trot around the shores, instead of taking the directcourse across the ice, which, being deemed unsafe by them, had wiselybeen avoided; for no one can be too cautious on ice of which they knownothing.
George Waring, the only son of La Salle's employer, skated ahead of hiscompanion, who was evidently of other than Caucasian origin, in part atleast. The skater was a tall, fresh-complexioned, slender youth, ofabout seventeen, bold, active, and graceful in his movements, but havingthe appearance of one whose growth had been a little too rapid for anequal development of health and strength; and indeed it was only oncondition that he should submit carefully to the directions of La Sallethat his father had consented to the present expedition.
His companion was, perhaps, a year older, but rather short andthick-set, with features in which the high cheek-bones and coppery hueof the American showed very prominently. La Salle had fallen in with himat the Seven Islands, on the Labrador coast, the year before, andemployed him as a pilot to the Straits of Belle Isle. He called himselfRegnar Orloff, was of tremendous strength for one of his years, andalthough apparently lazy, and somewhat fleshy, could move quicklyenough, and to purpose, in time of need.
Now, however, he rested one knee on the only unoccupied portion of alarge, light sled, drawn by the third member of the party, a powerfuldog of the Newfoundland species, which he was evidently training intosome little excellence as a sledge-dog. It was only an added virtue,even if complete; for noble old Carlo had already excellences enough tocanonize a dozen individual canines. He was strong, sagacious, peaceablyinclined, but a terrible foe when aroused; could eat anything, carry aman in the water, watch any place, team, or article, hold a horse, beatfor snipe or woodcock, lie motionless anywhere you might designate,retrieve anywhere on land, water, or ice, and loved a gun as well as hisyoung master, La Salle.
"WELL, GEORGE, YOU'RE HERE AT LAST."--Page 127.]
"Well, George, you're here at last," cried La Salle, as he came up. "Howis everything in town, and what's the news?"
"O, nothing out of the common. All are well. The governor gave a ballWednesday, and the House dissolves next week. We've had plenty of geeseto eat, but we wanted to kill some; and so here we are."
"How are you, Regnie? Getting tired of civilization, and wanting to getback to the ice?"
"Ha, ha, ha! Yes, master, just so. After I see Paris and Copenhagen, Ido very well, keep quite satisfied. But when I shut up in large citylike C., I think it too much. I feel lonesome, want to get back to thewild'ness."
"And how does Carlo learn sleighing?"
"O, he does well enough. He can't be taught right, for it would be toobad to use Greenland whip; but I make this little one, and can drivevery well;" and as he spoke, he held up a wand of supple whalebone,tipped with a slender "snapper" of plaited leather, and lightly touchingthe noble animal with the harmless implement, the dog gave a playfulbark, and started off on an easy trot.
"We strike off here for those black specks yonder," said La Salle; "butwhat is coming behind us, George?"
"O, that is Dolland, Venner, and that set; and I guess they'll have 'ahigh old time,' and no mistake."
"Well, let's take an observation, boys, and then we'll set off."
And, stopping, the party turned to survey a spectacle truly annoying toany true sportsman, whatever may be his views on the temperancequestion.
Advancing in their rear came a truck-sled, loaded with what, althoughevidently a miscellaneous freight, was largely composed of liquor; for agoodly ale-keg formed the driver's seat, a bottle-hamper the pinnacle ofthe load, and a half dozen young men, who were perched wherever a seatpresented itself, filled the air with loud, and oft-repeated shouts androaring songs, whose inspiration could plainly be traced to certainbottles, jugs, and flasks, with which each in turn "took an observation"of the heavens, at about every other hundred yards. An expression ofdisgust on
La Salle's deeply-tanned face gradually gave way toresignation, and then a well-founded hope irradiated his features; a newmovement of the crowd attracted his attention.
"Well, boys," he exclaimed, "you're in luck to have such a gang to comeout with, and you may count on having little or no sport to-day andto-morrow; but they'll have to go in, in three days at farthest."
"Why so?" asked the boys, in a breath.
"Because their rum won't last them more than forty-eight hours,especially with the amateur aid they'll get from the driver; and twelvehours after that event takes place, they'll be in town again. But come,they are getting near us, and are loading their guns; so let's leavebefore the vicinage is dangerous."
"Why, Charley," said Waring, in astonishment, "there's no danger. Thosefellows wouldn't shoot at us. I know them."
"And so do I, my dear fellow; and that's just the reason I want to getout of the way. If I didn't know what drunken men will do in the way of'sporting casualties,' or felt certain that their object was to shootus, I should feel perfectly easy on the subject;" and setting off atfull speed, followed by Waring and the sledge, La Salle led the way tothe ice-houses, which they reached about an hour before sunset.
Drawing up by the boat, La Salle examined the load of the day, and fromit took a little case made of a candle-box with stout hinges and apadlock. He opened it, and found, as he had ordered, a "Crimeancooking-lantern," with spring candlestick and a pound of candles, asmall tin canister of coffee, another of sugar, some pilot bread, andseveral boxes of sardines. Taking all but two of the latter from thebox, he relocked it, and carefully removing the matted straw in thestern of his boat, placed the box under the decking, and replacing thecompressed straw, effectually hid it from sight.
"We can now have a lunch, with a hot cup of coffee, whenever we please,and you will find some weather even yet when it will be very welcome.Come, let us go home to-night, and get ready for to-morrow's_charivari_, for noise will not be wanting, although game may;" andadding his brent to the load, La Salle covered his boat, and, joined byDavies and Creamer, who greeted the boys warmly, all went up to theirwelcome, if somewhat narrow, quarters.
After tea, which boasted of fried bacon and eggs, the usual circle wasformed, and Mr. Davies, being called upon to entertain the company, saidthat he was "not much of a story-teller, but had learned some factsrelating to a terrible political tumult, which took place years ago, butwas still spoken of everywhere on the island as the great 'BelfastRiot.' I shall term it, unless some one offers a better name, the mostlively specimen we ever had of
"A CONTESTED ELECTION.
"It need hardly be said, in this company, that an election among us is afar more exciting occasion than among our less-favored Americanneighbors, who ignore the superior advantages of voting _viva voce_, andadopt the less manly and unobtrusive medium of the ballot.
"Why, gentlemen, I venture to say, that our little capital town of C.,with its thousand votes, presents more stir, makes more noise, drinksmore whiskey, and is the arena of more fistic science and club play,during an ordinary election, than any city in New England, of four timesthe population, during a presidential struggle. The open polling-boothsin the heart of the city surrounded by crowds of intelligent (andhighly-excited) voters; the narrow gangways crowded, rain or shine, bythose immediately claiming the right of suffrage; the narrow precinctsof the sheriff's court, the sublime majesty of that important officer;the ineffable serenity of the city clerk; the various bearings of thecandidates or their representatives; the frantic efforts of a fewuniformed police to keep order; the evident and good-natureddetermination of the crowd that the aforesaid officials shall 'havetheir hands full;' the loud voices and sharp questions of thechallengers and their victim; the dainty bits of family history madepublic property; the overbearing insolence of the old lawyers, and theoverweening impudence of the young ones; the open taverns; the rivalcarriages for the accommodation of doubtful, drunken, and lazy voters,together with the lively little incidents which diversify the picture asthe culminating glory of these various provocative elements,--form apicture which it hath not entered into the heart of the average Americancitizen to conceive of.
"But, however lively the picture, an election in these degenerate laterdays is but a tame affair compared with those which took place duringmy first years of labor in political matters. As all know, the islandwas given away on one day to certain individuals, on conditions of whichnothing more may be said here than that one was, that a certain numberof settlers were to be placed on each estate within a given number ofyears. Accordingly, from almost every section of the British Isles, theproprietors sought out such emigrants as could most easily be procured.
"The result was, that we still have settlements in close proximity toeach other, whose peoples use different languages in daily conversation,who vary radically in religious belief, have few natural traits incommon, and are almost, if not altogether, 'natural enemies' each toeach. Thus we have a settlement of Protestant Highland Scotch close by alarge estate peopled with Monaghan or Kilkenny Irish Catholics; andperhaps a little farther on is a hamlet of Low-landers, or a village ofthrifty English folk.
"But in those days these distinctions were yet more marked, and thefeuds of Orange and Ribbon-man, Scotch and Irish, Englishman and FrenchAcadian, had not then given way before the softening and concealing handof 'Time, the great leveler;' and so some twenty years ago, during aclose contest between the then rising liberal party and theconservatives, a riot took place near the polling-booth in the HighlandScotch settlement of Belfast. All the combined strength of both partieswas present; the canvassing had been of the most thorough nature, andall the antipathies of race and religion appealed to for electioneeringpurposes.
"It is said that the Catholics went there expecting a fight, each armedwith a well-balanced, tough _shillelagh_, and that they made a generalattack on the Scotch. At all events, it is certain that the largernumber of the latter had to betake themselves to the nearest availableweapon, and that many were cut and bruised by the skilfully-handledweapons of the active Irish cudgel-players. One Scotchman, however (afellow of unusual stature), seized a fence-rail, and, by his single arm,stayed the tide of flight in his part of the fray. Almost frantic withapprehension, rage, and the desire for revenge, he wielded his ponderousweapon as if it were an ordinary club, striking such tremendous blowsthat tradition has it that not one of a half-score of the best andbravest of the Irish leaders survived the effects of those terrible andcrushing blows. Profiting by his prowess, the Scotch procured the heavystakes of their sleds, tough poles, pieces of firewood, and similarponderous weapons, and, headed by the hero of the day, made a charge,returning with terrible severity the comparatively slight damageinflicted by the light cudgels of the Irish.
"The details of that day of blood--how the fray began, and between whom;the varying records of its progress as victory inclined first to oneside, and then to the other; the number of the killed and wounded, andthe names of the fallen--have never been generally known, and probablynever will be; for many of the principal actors in that savage dramahave passed away 'into the dread unknown.'
"But it is still commonly believed, and so reported, that over a scoreof the Irish were killed on the field, or died of their wounds; that noScotchman perished; that the field where the deadliest part of the workwas done became accursed, and has lain barren to this day; and that theleader of the Scotch became insane with the memory of his own terribleprowess.
"Among those who have reason to remember that dreadful affair, however,may be numbered C." (Here the narrator named an influential and wealthybusiness man.) "He was travelling in that section, and being ignorant ofwhat had taken place, stopped at a country town to bait his horse, andwarm and refresh himself. Entering, he found the reception-room filledwith Irish, whose harsh features were inflamed with varied passions,while the persons of many bore marks of recent injury. No one replied tohis friendly greeting, and their whole conversation was carried on inErse, althoug
h every intonation and gesture was replete with passion.Suddenly he saw the landlady beckoning him out of the room, and, rising,he approached her as if to give directions about his horse.
"Trembling with agitation, she addressed him:--
"'O, Mr. C., for the love of Heaven, run to your sleigh, and leave atonce, or your life isn't worth an hour's purchase!'
"Then, in a few words, she gave him some idea of the day's events, andtaking the measure of oats provided, Mr. C. passed on through hisenemies to the shed, where, beside a number of rude country sledges,stood his own fleet horse and light cutter. Taking the bells off hishorse, he backed him out of the shed, and was ready for flight. On thenearest sledge was bound a long, oblong parcel, covered with a rug.Curiosity proved stronger than fear, and lifting a loose corner of thescanty covering, Mr. C. found himself face to face with a corpse!
"Springing into his sleigh, he put his horse to his utmost speed, andwhen day dawned was a score of miles from the scene of his unexpecteddanger and appalling night adventure."
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