The Mistress of Bonaventure

The accent was hardly what one might have expected from one of the traveling adventurers who at intervals wandered across the country, and I looked at the speaker with a puzzled air. "I have no time to spare for fooling, and don't generally parade half-naked before either the public or my civilized friends," I said.

"Some people look best that way," answered the other, regarding me critically; whereupon Thorn turned round and grinned. "The team and tall grass would make an effective background. Stand by inside there, Edmond. It's really not a bad model of a bare throat and torso, and as I don't know that your face is the best of you, the profile with a shadow on it would do – just so! Say, I wonder did you know those old canvas overalls drawn in by the leggings are picturesque and become you? There – I'm much obliged to you."

A faint click roused me from the state of motionless astonishment his sheer impudence produced, and when I strode forward Thorn's grin of amusement changed to one of expectancy. "You don't want any hair-restorer, apparently, though I've some of the best in the Dominion at a dollar the bottle; but I could give you a salve for the complexion," continued the traveler, and I stopped suddenly when about to demand the destruction of the negative or demolish his camera.

"Good heavens, Boone! Is it you; and what is the meaning of this mummery?" I asked, staring at him more amazed than ever.

"Just now I'm called Adams, if you please," said the other, holding out his hand. "I hadn't an opportunity for thanking you for your forbearance when we met at Bonaventure, but I shall not readily forget it. This is not exactly mummery. It provides me with a living, and suits my purpose. I could not resist the temptation of trying to discover whether you recognized me, or whether I was playing my part artistically."

"Are you not taking a big risk, and why don't you exploit a safer district?" I asked; and the man smiled as he answered: "I don't think there's a settler around here who would betray me even if he guessed my identity, and the troopers never got a good look at me. I live two or three hundred miles east, you see, and the loss of a beard and mustache alters any man's appearance considerably. I also have a little business down this way. Have you seen anything of Foster Lane during the last week or two?"

"Yes," I said. "He has just ridden over from my place to Lawrence's, in Crane Valley."

"You have land there, too," said Boone, as though aware of it already; and when I nodded, added: "Then if you are wise you will see that devil does not get his claws on it. I presume you are not above taking a hint from me?"

I looked straight at him. "I know very little of you except that there is a warrant out for your arrest, and I am not addicted to taking advice from strangers."

Boone returned my gaze steadily without resentment, and I had time to take note of him. He was a tall, spare, sinewy man, deeply bronzed like most of us; but now that he had, as it were, cast off all pertaining to the traveling pedlar, there was an indefinite something in his speech and manner which could hardly have been acquired on the prairie. He did not look much over thirty, but his forehead was seamed, and from other signs one might have fancied he was a man with a painful history. Then he flicked the dust off his jean garments with the whip, and laughed a little.

"I am an Englishman, Rancher Ormesby, and, needless to say, so are you. We are not a superfluously civil people, and certain national characteristics betray you. I fancy we shall be better acquainted, and, that being so, feel prompted to tell you a story which, after what passed at Bonaventure, you perhaps have a right to know. You will stop a while for lunch, anyway, and if you have no objections I will take mine along with you."

I could see no reasonable objection to this, and presently we sat together under the wagon for the sake of coolness, while, when the mower ceased its rattle, the dust once more settled down upon the slough. It was almost too hot to eat; there was no breath of wind, and the glare of the sun-scorched prairie grew blinding.

"I should not wonder if you took most kindly to indirect advice, and there is a moral to this story," said Boone, when I lit my pipe. "Some years ago a disappointed man, who knew a little about land and horses, came out from the old country to farm on the prairie, bringing with him a woman used hitherto to the smoother side of life. He saw it was a good land and took hold with energy, believing the luck had turned at last, while the woman helped him gallantly. For a time all went well with them, but the loneliness and hardship proved too much for the woman, whose strength was of the spirit and not of the body, and she commenced to droop and pine. She made no complaint, but her eyes lost their brightness, and she grew worn and thin, while the man grew troubled. She had already given up very much for him. He saw his neighbors prospering on borrowed capital, and, for the times were good, determined to risk sowing a double acreage. That meant comfort instead of privation if all went well, and, toiling late and early, he sowed hope for a brighter future along with the grain. So far it is not an uncommon story."

I nodded, when the speaker, pausing, stared somberly towards the horizon, for since that English visit I also had staked all I hoped for in the future on the chances of the seasons.

"The luck went against him," the narrator continued. "Harvest frost, drought, and summer hail followed in succession, and when the borrowed money melted the man who held the mortgage foreclosed. He was within his rights in this, but he went further, for while there were men in that district who would, out of kindliness or as a speculation, have bought up the settler's possessions at fair prices, the usurer had his grasp also on them, and when a hint was sent them they did nothing. Therefore the auction was a fraud and robbery, and all was bought up by a confederate for much less than its value. There was enough to pay the loan off – although the interest had almost done so already – but not enough to meet the iniquitous additions; and the farmer went out ruined on to Government land with a few head of stock a richer man he had once done a service to gave him; but the woman sickened in the sod hovel he built. There was no doctor within a hundred miles, and the farmer had scarcely a dollar to buy her necessaries. Even then the usurer had not done with him. He entered proceedings to claim the few head of cattle for balance of the twice-paid debt. The farmer could not defend himself; somebody took money for willful perjury to evade a clause of the homestead exemptions, and the usurer got his order. The woman lay very ill when he came with a band of desperadoes to seize the cattle. They threatened violence; a fracas followed, and the farmer's hands were, for once, unsteady on the rifle he did not mean to use, for when a drunken cowboy would have ransacked his dwelling the trigger yielded prematurely, and the usurer was carried off with a bullet through his leg. The woman died, and was buried on a lonely rise of the prairie; and the man rode out with hatred in his heart and a price upon his head. You should know the rest of the story – but the sequel is to follow. It was not without an effort or a motive I told it you."

I stretched out my hand impulsively towards the speaker. "It is appreciated. I need not ask one name, but the other – "

"Is Foster Lane; and in due time he shall pay in full for all."

Boone's voice, which had grown a trifle husky, sank with the last words to a deeper tone, and the sinewy right hand he raised for a moment fell heavily, tight-clenched, upon his knee. He said nothing further for a while, but I felt that if ever the day of reckoning came one might be sorry for Foster Lane.

Presently he shrugged his shoulders and rose abruptly. "I have a case of pomade to sell the Swedes over yonder, and if my luck is good, some photographs to take," he said, resuming his former manner. "I presume you wouldn't care to decorate your house with tin-framed oleographs of German manufacture. I have a selection, all of the usual ugliness. Whatever happens, one must eat, you know. Well, Lane's gone into Crane Valley, and it happens I'm going that way, too. This, I hope, is the beginning of an acquaintance, Ormesby."

He sold Thorn a bottle of some infallible elixir before he climbed into his tented wagon, and left me troubled as he jolted away across the prairie. One thing, however, I was resolved upon, and that was to pay off Foster Lane at the earliest opportunity. By parting with my best stock at a heavy sacrifice it seemed just possible to accomplish it.

CHAPTER V

A SURPRISE PARTY

Except when the snow lies deep one has scanty leisure on the prairie, and when Adams departed Thorn and I hurriedly recommenced our task. We had lost time to make up, and vied with each other; for I had discovered that, even in a country where all work hard, much more is done for the master who can work himself. Pitching heavy trusses into a wagon is not child's play at that temperature, but just then the exertion brought relief, and I was almost sorry when Thorn went off with the lurching vehicle, leaving me to the mower and my thoughts. The latter were not overpleasant just then. Still, the machine needed attention, and the horses needed both restraint and encouragement, for at times they seemed disposed to lie down, and at others, maddened by the insects, inclined to kick the rusty implement into fragments, and I grew hoarse with shouting, while the perspiration dripped from me.

It was towards six o'clock, and the slanting sunrays beat pitilessly into my face, which was thick with fibrous grime, when, with Thorn lagging behind, I tramped stiffly beside the wagon towards my house. My blue shirt was rent in places; the frayed jean jacket, being minus its buttons, refused to meet across it; and nobody new to the prairie would have taken me for the owner of such a homestead as Gaspard's Trail. Thick dust, through which mounted figures flitted, rolled about the dwelling, and a confused bellowing mingled with the human shouts that rose from behind the long outbuildings.

"It's Henderson's boys bringing shipping stock along. Somebody's been squeezing him for money or he wouldn't sell at present," said Thorn, who rejoined me. "They'll camp here to-night and clean up the larder. I guess most everybody knows how Henderson feeds them."

There are disadvantages attached to the prairie custom of free hospitality, and I surmised that Henderson's stock riders might have pushed on to the next homestead if they had not known that we kept a good table at Gaspard's Trail. Nevertheless, I was thankful that no stranger need ever leave my homestead hungry, and only wondered whether my cook's comments would be unduly sulphurous. When I reached the wire-fenced corral, which was filled with circling cattle and an intolerable dust, a horseman flung his hand up in salute.

"We're bound for the Indian Spring Bottom with an H triangle draft," he said. "The grass is just frizzled on the Blackfeet run, and we figured we'd camp right here with you to-night."

"That's all right; but couldn't you have fetched Carson's by dusk without breaking anybody's neck; and yonder beasts aren't branded triangle H," I said.

The horseman laughed silently in prairie fashion. "Well, we might and we mightn't; but Carson's a close man, and I've no great use for stale flapjacks and glucose drips. No, sir, I'm not greedy, and we'll just let Carson keep them for himself. Those beasts marked dash circle are the best of the lot. Lane's put the screw on Redmond, and forced him to part. Redmond's down on his luck. He's crawling round here somewhere, cussing Lane tremendous."

"Lane seems to own all this country," I answered irritably. "Has he got a hold on your master, too? I told him and Redmond I was saving that strip of sweet prairie for myself."

"He will own all the country, if you bosses don't kick in time," was the dry answer. "I don't know how ours is fixed, but he's mighty short in temper, and you've no monopoly of unrecorded prairie. Say, it might save your boys a journey if we took your stock along with us and gave them a chance before this draft cleans all the sweet grass up. Redmond told me to mention it."

The offer was opportune, and I accepted it; then hurried towards the galvanized iron shed which served as summer quarters for the general utility man who acted as cook. He was a genius at his business, though he had learned it on board a sailing ship. He was using fiery language as he banged his pans about. "It's a nice state of things when a cattle-whacking loafer can walk right in and tell me what he wants for his supper," he commenced. "General Jackson! it's bad enough when a blame cowboy outfit comes down on one like the locusts and cleans everything up, but it's worse just when I'm trying to fix a special high-grade meal."

"I'm not particular. What is good enough for a cowboy is good enough for a rancher any time," I said; and the cook, who was despotic master of his own domain, jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the house. "Guess it mightn't be to-night. Get out, and give me a fair show. You're blocking up the light."

I went on towards the house, wondering what he could mean, but halted on the threshold of our common room, a moment too late. We had worked night and day during spring and early summer, and the sparely-furnished room was inches deep in dust. Guns, harness I had no time to mend, and worn-out garments lay strewn about it, save where, in a futile attempt to restore order, I had hurled a pile of sundries into one corner. Neither was I in exactly a condition suitable for feminine society, and Beatrice Haldane, who had by some means preserved her dainty white dress immaculate, leaned back in an ox-hide chair regarding me with quiet amusement. Her father lounged smoking in the window seat, and it was his younger daughter who, when I was about to retreat, came forward and mischievously greeted me.

"I believe you were ready to run away, Mr. Ormesby, and you really don't seem as much pleased to see us as you ought to be," she said. "You know you often asked us to visit you, so you have brought this surprise party on your own head."

"I hope you will not suffer for your rashness, but you see those men out there. They generally leave famine behind them when they come," I said.

The girl nodded. "They are splendid. I have been talking to them, and made one sit still while I drew him. Please don't trouble about supper. I have seen cookie, and he's going to make the very things I like."

Miss Haldane's eyebrows came down just a trifle, and I grew uneasy, wondering whether it was the general state of chaos or my own appearance which had displeased her; but Haldane laughed heartily before he broke in: "Lucille is all Canadian. She has not been to Europe yet, and I am not sure that I shall send her. She has examined the whole place already, and decided that you must be a very – "

The girl's lips twitched with suppressed merriment, but she also reddened a little; and I interposed: "A very busy man, was it not? Now you must give me ten minutes in which to make myself presentable."

I was glad to escape, and, for reasons, withdrew sideways in crab fashion, while what suspiciously resembled smothered laughter followed me. By good luck, and after upsetting the contents of two bureaus upon the floor, I was able to find garments preserved for an occasional visit to the cities, and, flinging the window open, I hailed a man below to bring me a big pail of water. He returned in ten minutes with a very small one, and with the irate cook expostulating behind him, while I feared his comments would be audible all over the building.

"Cook says the well's playing out, and washing's foolishness this weather. The other pail's got dead gophers in it, and Jardine allows he caught cookie fishing more of them out of the water he used for the tea."

"Fling them out, and for heaven's sake let me have the thing. I'm getting used to gophers, and dead ones can't bite you," I said, fearing that if the indignant cook got to close quarters the precious fluid might be spilled. Then while I completed my toilet Cotton came in.

"Perhaps I was hardly civil this morning," he commenced. "I'm out for four days' fire-guard inspecting, and thought I'd come round and tell you – "

"That you saw the Bonaventure wagon heading in this direction," I interposed. "Well, you're always welcome at Gaspard's Trail, and I presume you won't feel tempted to draw the line at my present guests."

Cotton dropped into my one sound chair. "I suppose I deserve it, Ormesby. We shall not get such opportunities much longer, and one can't help making the most of them," he said.

We went down together; and there was no doubt that the cook had done his best, while Haldane laughed and his younger daughter looked very demure when, as we sat down at table, I stared about my room. It had lost its bare appearance, the thick dust had gone, and there was an air of comfort about it I had never noticed before.

"You see what a woman's hand can do. Lucille couldn't resist the temptation of straightening things for you," observed the owner of Bonaventure. "She said the place resembled a – "

The girl blushed a little, and shook her head warningly at her father, while, as she did so, her bright hair caught a shaft of light from the window and shimmered like burnished gold. For a moment it struck me that she equaled her sister in beauty; and she was wholly bewitching with the mischief shining in her eyes. There was, however, a depth of kindliness beneath the mischief, and I had seen the winsome face grow proud with a high courage one night when the snows whirled about Bonaventure. Nevertheless, I straightway forgot it when Beatrice Haldane set to work among the teacups at the head of the table, for her presence transfigured the room. I had often, as I sat there through the bitter winter nights, pictured her taking a foremost place in some scene of brightness in London or Montreal, but never presiding at my poor table or handling my dilapidated crockery with her dainty fingers. She did it, as she did everything, very graciously; while, to heighten the contrast, the lowing of cattle and the hoarse shouts of those who drove them, mingled with whipcracks and the groaning of jolting wagons, came in through the open windows.

For a time the meal progressed satisfactorily. Haldane was excellent company, and I had almost forgotten my fears that some untoward accident might happen, when his younger daughter asked: "What is a gopher, Mr. Cotton? I have heard of them, but never saw one."

I projected a foot in his direction under the table, regretting I had discarded my working boots, and Haldane, dropping his fork, looked up sharply.