"Well, nurse, one day he found a poor little Indian boy who had been lost in the woods, and was half starved, sick, and weak; and the kind gentleman took him home to his house, and fed and nursed him till he got quite strong again. Was not that good, nurse?"
"It was quite right, my lady. People should always be kind to the sick and weak, and especially to a poor Indian stranger. I like the story very much, and shall be glad to hear more about the Indian boy."
"Nurse, there is not a great deal more about the Indian boy; for when the Indian party to which he belonged returned from hunting, he went away to his own home; but I forgot to tell you that the gentleman had often said how much he should like to have a young beaver to make a pet of. He was very fond of pets; he had a dear little squirrel, just like mine, nurse, a flying squirrel, which he had made so tame that it slept in his bosom and lived in his pocket, where he kept nuts and acorns and apples for it to eat; and he had a rac.o.o.n too, nurse--only think, a real rac.o.o.n! and Major Pickford told me something so droll about the rac.o.o.n, only I want first to go on with the story about the beaver."
"One day, as the gentleman was sitting by the fire reading, he heard a slight noise, and when he looked up was quite surprised to see an Indian boy in a blanket coat, with his dark eyes fixed upon his face, while his long black hair hung down on his shoulders. He looked quite wild, and did not say a word, but only opened his blanket coat, and showed a brown-furred animal asleep on his breast. What do you think it was, nurse?"
"A young beaver, my lady."
"Yes, nurse, it was a little beaver. The good Indian boy had caught it and tamed it on purpose to bring it to his white friend, who had been so good to him.
"I cannot tell you all the amusing things the Indian boy said about the beaver, though the Major told them to me; but I cannot talk like an Indian, you know, Mrs. Frazer. After the boy went away, the gentleman set to work and made a little log-house for his beaver to live in, and set it in a corner of the shanty, and he hollowed a large sugar trough for its water, that it might have water to wash in, and cut down some young willows and poplars and birch trees for it to eat. And the little beaver grew very fond of its new master, it would fondle him just like a little squirrel, put its soft head on his knee, and climb up on his lap. He taught it to eat bread, sweet cake, and biscuit, and even roast and boiled meat, and it would drink milk too.
"Well, nurse, the little beaver lived very happily with this kind gentleman till the next fall, and then it began to get very restless and active, as if it were tired of doing nothing. One day its master heard of the arrival of a friend some miles off so he left the beaver to take care of itself, and went away, but he did not forget to give it some green wood, and plenty of water to drink and play in. He stayed several days, for he was very glad to meet with a friend in that lonely place, but when he came back, he could not open his door, and was obliged to get in at the window. What do you think the beaver had done? It had built a dam against the side of the trough, and a wall across the door, and it had dug up the hearth and the floor, and carried the earth and the stones to help to make its dam, and puddled it with water, and made such work. The house was in perfect confusion, with mud, chips bark, and stone, and oh, nurse, worse than all that, it had gnawed through the legs of the table and chairs, and they were lying on the floor in such a state; and it cost the poor gentleman so much trouble to put things to rights again, and make more chairs and another table! and when I laughed at the pranks of that wicked beaver--for I could not help laughing--the Major pinched my ear, and called me a mischievous puss."
Mrs. Frazer was very much entertained with the story, and she told Lady Mary that she had heard of tame beavers doing such things before; for in the season of the year when beavers congregate together to repair their works and build their winter houses, those that are in confinement become restless and unquiet, and show the instinct that moves these animals to provide their winter retreats, and lay up their stores of food.
"Nurse," said Lady Mary, "I did not think that beavers and rac.o.o.ns could be taught to eat sweet cake, and bread, and meat."
"Many animals learn to eat very different food to what they are accustomed to live upon in a wild state. The wild cat lives on raw flesh; while the domestic cat, you know, my dear, will eat cooked meat, and even salt meat, with bread and milk and many other things. I knew a person who had a black kitten called "Wildfire," which would sip whisky toddy out of his gla.s.s, and seemed to like it as well as milk or water, only it made him too wild and frisky."
"Nurse, the rac.o.o.n that the gentleman had would drink sweet whisky punch; but my governess said it was not right to give it to him; and Major Pickford laughed, and declared the rac.o.o.n must have looked very funny when he was tipsy. Was not the Major naughty to say so?"
Mrs. Frazer said it was not quite proper.
"The rac.o.o.n, Lady Mary, in its natural state, has all the wildness and cunning of the fox and weasel. He will eat flesh, poultry, and sucking pigs, and is also very destructive to Indian corn. These creatures abound in the Western States, and are killed in great numbers for their skins.
The Indian hunters eat the flesh, and say it is very tender and good; but it is not used for food in Canada. The rac.o.o.n belongs to the same cla.s.s of animals as the bear, which it resembles in some points, though; being small, it is not so dangerous either to man or the larger animals.
"And now, my dear, let me show you some pretty wild-flowers a little girl brought me this morning for you, as she heard that you loved flowers.
There are yellow-moca.s.sins, or ladies"-slippers, the same that I told you of a little while ago; and white lilies, crane-bills, and these pretty lilac geraniums; here are scarlet cups, and blue lupines--they are all in bloom now--and many others. If we were on the Rice Lake Plains, my lady, we could gather all these, and many, many more. In the months of June and July those plains are like a garden, and their roses scent the air."
"Nurse, I will ask my dear papa to take me to the Rice Lake Plains," said the little girl, as she gazed with delight on the lovely Canadian flowers.
CHAPTER IX.
NURSE TELLS LADY MARY ABOUT A LITTLE BOY WHO WAS EATEN BY A BEAR IN THE PROVINCE OF NEW BRUNSWICK--OF A BABY THAT WAS CARRIED AWAY, BUT TAKEN ALIVE--A WALK IN THE GARDEN--HUMMING-BIRDS--CANADIAN BALSAMS.
"Nurse," said Lady Mary, "did you ever hear of any one having been eaten by a wolf or bear?"
"I have heard of such things happening, my dear, in this country; but only in lonely, unsettled parts, near swamps and deep woods."
"Did you ever hear of any little boy or girl having been carried off by a wolf or bear?" asked the child.
"No, my lady, not in Canada, though similar accidents may have happened there; but when I was a young girl I heard of such tragedies at New Brunswick--one of the British provinces lying to the east of this, and a cold and rather barren country, but containing many minerals, such as coal, limestone, and marble, besides vast forests of pine, and small lakes and rivers. It resembles Lower Canada in many respects; but it is not so pleasant as the province of Upper Canada, neither is it so productive.
"Thirty years ago it was not so well cleared or cultivated as it is now, and the woods were full of wild beasts that dwelt among the swamps and wild rocky valleys. Bears, and wolves, and catamounts abounded, with foxes of several kinds, and many of the fine-furred and smaller species of animals, which were much sought for on account of their skins. Well, my dear, near the little village where my aunt and uncle were living, there were great tracts of unbroken swamps and forests, which of course sheltered many wild animals. A sad accident happened a few days before we arrived, which caused much sorrow and no little fright in the place.
"An old man went out into the woods one morning with his little grandson to look for the oxen, which had strayed from the clearing. They had not gone many yards from the enclosure when they heard a crackling and rustling among the underwood and dry timber that strewed the ground. The old man, thinking it was caused by the cattle they were looking for, bade the little boy go forward and drive them on the track; but in a few he heard a fearful cry from the child, and hurrying forward through the tangled brushwood, saw the poor little boy in the deadly grasp of a huge black bear, which was making off at a fast trot with his prey.
"The old man was unarmed, and too feeble to pursue the dreadful beast. He could only wring his hands and rend his gray hairs in grief and terror; but his lamentations could not restore the child to life. A band of hunters and lumberers, armed with rifles and knives, turned out to beat the woods, and were not long in tracking the savage animal to his retreat in a neighbouring cedar swamp. A few fragments of the child"s dress were all that remained of him; but the villagers had the satisfaction of killing the great she-bear with, her two half-grown cubs. The magistrates of the district gave them a large sum for shooting these creatures, and the skins were sold, and the money given to the parents of the little boy; but no money could console them for the loss of their beloved child.
"The flesh of the bear is eaten both by Indians and hunters; it is like coa.r.s.e beef. The hams are cured and dried, and by many thought to be a great dainty."
"Mrs. Frazer, I would not eat a bit of the ham made from a wicked, cruel bear, that eats little children," said Lady Mary. "I wonder the hunters were not afraid to go into the swamps where such savage beasts lived. Are there as many bears and wolves now in those places?"
"No, my lady; great changes have taken place since that time. As the country becomes more thickly settled, the woods disappear. The axe and the fire destroy the haunts that sheltered these wild beasts, and they retreat further back, where the deer and other creatures on which they princ.i.p.ally feed abound."
"Do the hunters follow them?"
"There is no place, however difficult or perilous, where the hunter will not venture in search of game."
"And do they pursue the graceful deer? They are so pretty, with their branching antlers and slender limbs, that I should have thought no man could be so cruel as to slay them."
"But their flesh is very savoury, and the Indian, when tired of bear"s meat, is glad of a dish of fresh venison. So with his gun--if he has one--or with his bow and arrow, he lies in wait among the foliage and brushwood of the forest, or behind the rocks on the bank of some swift torrent, and when the unsuspecting stag makes his appearance on the opposite crag, he takes a careful aim, lets fly his rapid arrow, and seldom fails to kill his victim; which, dropping into the stream below, is borne by the current within his reach."
"They are brave men, those hunters," said Lady Mary; "but I fear they are very cruel. I wish they would only kill the furious bears. That was a sad story you told me just now, nurse, about the poor little boy. Have you heard of any other sufferers; or do people sometimes escape from these monsters?"
"I also heard of a little child," continued nurse, "not more than two years old, who was with her mother in the harvest-field, who had spread a shawl on the ground near a tall tree, and laid the child upon it to sleep or play, when a bear came out of the wood and carried her off, leaping the fence with her in his arms. But the mother ran screaming after the beast, and the reapers pursued so closely with their pitch-forks and reaping-hooks, that Bruin, who was only a half-grown bear, being hard pressed, made for a tree; and as it was not easy to climb with a babe in his arms, he quietly laid the little one down at the foot of the tree, and soon was among the thick branches out of the reach of the enemy. I daresay baby must have wondered what rough nurse had taken her up; but she was unhurt, and is alive now."
"I am so glad, nurse, the dear baby was not hugged to death by that horrid black bear; and I hope he was killed."
"I daresay, my lady, he was shot by some of the men; for they seldom worked near the forest without having a gun with them, in case of seeing deer, or pigeons, or partridges."
"I should not like to live in that country, Mrs. Frazer; for a bear, a wolf, or a catamount might eat me."
"I never heard of a governor"s daughter being eaten by a bear," said Mrs.
Frazer, laughing, as she noticed the earnest expression on the face of her little charge. She then continued her account of the ursine family.
"The bear retires in cold weather, and sleeps till warmer seasons awaken him. He does not lay up any store of winter provisions, because he seldom rouses himself during the time of his long sleep; and in the spring he finds food, both vegetable and animal, for he can eat anything when hungry, like the hog. He often robs the wild bees of their honey, and his hide, being so very thick, seems insensible to the stings of the angry bees. Bruin will sometimes find odd places for his winter bed, for a farmer, who was taking a stack of wheat into his barn to be threshed in the winter time, once found a large black bear comfortably asleep in the middle of the sheaves."
"How could the bear have got into the stack of wheat, nurse?"
"The claws of this animal are so strong, and he makes so much use of his paws, which are almost like hands, that he must have pulled the sheaves out and so made an entrance for himself. His skin and flesh amply repaid the farmer for any injury the grain had received. I remember seeing the bear brought home in triumph on the top of the load of wheat. Bears often do great mischief by eating the Indian corn when it is ripening; for besides what they devour, they spoil a vast deal by trampling the plants down with their clumsy feet. They will, when hard pressed by hunger, come close to the farmer"s house and rob the pig-sty of its tenants. Many years ago, before the forest was cleared away in the neighbourhood of what is now a large town, but in those days consisted of only a few poor log-houses, a settler was much annoyed by the frequent visits of a bear to his hog-pen. At last he resolved to get a neighbour who was a very expert hunter to come with his rifle and watch with him. The pen where the fatling hogs were was close to the log house, it had a long, low, shingled roof, and was carefully fastened up, so that no bear could find entrance.
Well, the farmer"s son and the hunter had watched for two nights, and no bear came, on the third they were both tired, and lay down to sleep upon the floor of the kitchen, when the farmer"s son was awakened by a sound as of some one tearing and stripping the shingles from the pen. He looked out, it was moonlight, and there he saw the dark shadow of some tall figure on the ground, and spied the great black bear standing on its hinder legs, and pulling the shingles off as fast as it could lay its big black paws upon them. The hogs were in a great fright, screaming and grunting with terror. The young man stepped back into the house, roused up the hunter, who took aim from the doorway, and shot the bear dead. The head of the huge beast was nailed up as a trophy, and the meat was dried or salted for winter use, and great were the rejoicings of the settlers, who had suffered so much from Bruin"s thefts of corn and pork."
"I am glad the hunter killed him, nurse, for he might, have eaten up some of the little children, when they were playing about in the fields."
"Sometimes," continued Mrs. Frazer, "the bears used to visit the sugar bush, when the settlers were making maple sugar, and overturn the sap troughs and drink the sweet liquid. I daresay they would have been glad of a taste of the sugar too, if they could have got at it. The bear is not so often met with now as it used to be many years ago. The fur of the bear used to be worn as m.u.f.fs and tippets, but is now little used for that purpose, being thought to be too coa.r.s.e and heavy; but it is still made into caps for soldiers, and used for sleigh-robes."
This was all Mrs. Frazer chose to recollect about bears, for she was unwilling to dwell long on any gloomy subject, which she knew was not good for young minds: so she took her charge into the garden to look at the flower-beds, and watch the birds and b.u.t.terflies; and soon the child was gaily running from flower to flower, watching with childish interest the insects flitting to and fro. At last she stopped, and holding up her finger to warn Mrs. Frazer not to come too near, stood gazing in wonder and admiration on a fluttering object that was hovering over the full-blown honey-suckles on a trellis near the greenhouse. Mrs. Frazer approached her with due caution.
"Nurse," whispered the child, "look at that curious moth with a long bill like a bird; see its beautiful shining colours. It has a red necklace, like mamma"s rubies. Oh, what a curious creature! It must be a moth or a b.u.t.terfly. What is it?"
"It is neither a moth nor a b.u.t.terfly, my dear. It is a humming-bird."