But it"s not the life as these folk live it. It"s the future I"m thinking of. It"s middle life and old age. These boys. They"re wonders--now. How long does it last, and then--what happens? I"m here on business, hard business. But I guess this thing"s got hold of me so I can"t sometimes sleep at nights. Tell me about them."
Arden Laval, one of the hardest specimens of the lumber boss, turned away. His understanding of women was built up out of intimacy with the poor creatures who peopled the camps he knew. This girl"s burst of feeling only stirred him to a cynical humour.
"Mam," he said, with a grin that was almost hateful, "if I was to start in to hand you the life history of a lumber-jack you"d feel like throwing up your kind heart, and any other old thing you hadn"t use for in your stummick. But I guess I can say right here, a lumber-jack"s a most disgustin" sort of vermin who hasn"t more right than a louse to figger in your reckonin". I guess he was born wrong, and he"ll mostly die as he was born. And meanwhile he"s lived a life that"s mostly dirt, and no account anyway. There"s a few things we ask of a lumber-jack, and if he fulfils "em right he can go right on living. When he can"t fulfil "em, why, it"s up to him to hit the trail for the pay box, an" get out.
Guess you feel good when you see a boy swingin" an axe, or handlin" a peavy. Sure. That sort of thing don"t come your way often. Neither does it come your way to see the rest. He"s mostly a sink of filth in mind and body, and if he ain"t all that at the start he gets it quick. He"s a waster of G.o.d"s pure air, and is mostly in his right surroundings when the forest does its best to hide him up from the eyes of the rest of the world. Guess he"s the best man I know--dead."
For all his grin Arden Laval was in deadly earnest. Nancy stared at the broad back he had turned on her with his final word. And her indignation surged.
"I don"t believe it," she cried. "I can"t believe it. You"re just talking out of years of experience of a life you"ve probably learned to hate. Man, if that"s your opinion of your fellows, then it"s you who ought never to leave the forest you claim does its best to hide up folk from the eyes of the rest of the world. You"re a camp boss. You"re our head man in these forests. You"re trusted, and we know your skill. Well, it seems to me you"ve a duty that goes further than just feeding the booms right. You"ve a moral duty towards these men you condemn. You can help them. It should surely be your pride to lift them out of the desperate mire you claim they are floundering in. I"ll not believe you mean it all."
The man turned away as a black-clothed figure emerged from the trees, and came to a stand at the brink of the ravine some hundred and more yards to the east of them. Nancy, too, beheld the lonely figure and she, too, became interested in its movements.
The lumber boss laughed shortly, roughly, and raised an arm, pointing as he turned a grinning face to the girl.
"See him, there?" he cried. "Say, mam, with all respect, I"d say to you, if you"re feeling the way you talk, and look to get the sort of stuff you"d maybe fancy hearing, that"s the guy you need to open out to. As you say, I"m the head camp-boss on the Skandinavia"s limits. I"ve had nigh twenty years an" more experience of the lumber-jack. An" I"m tellin" you the things any camp-boss speakin" truth"ll tell you. That"s all, I don"t hate the boys. I don"t pity "em. But I don"t love "em.
They"re just part of a machine to cut lumber, and it don"t matter a hoot in h.e.l.l to me what they are, or who they are, or what becomes of "em. I ain"t shepherdin" souls like that guy. It ain"t in me, anyway. I just got to make good so that some day I ken quit these cursed forests and live easy the way I"d fancy. When that time comes maybe I"ll change.
Maybe I"ll feel like that guy standin" doping over that spread of forest scene. I don"t know. And just now I don"t care--a curse."
But Nancy was no longer listening. The lonely, black-coated figure Laval had pointed out absorbed all her interest. His allusion to the man"s calling had created in her an irresistible desire.
"Who is he? That man?" she demanded abruptly.
Laval laughed.
"Why, Father Adam," he replied. There was a curious softening in his harsh voice, which brought the girl"s eyes swiftly back to him.
"Father Adam? A priest?" she questioned.
Laval shook his head. He had turned again, regarding the stranger. His face was hidden from the searching eyes of the girl.
"I just can"t rightly say," he demurred. "Maybe he is, an" maybe he ain"t. But," he added reflectively "he"s just one h.e.l.l of a good man.
Makes me laff sometimes. Sometimes it makes me want to cry like a kid when I think of the things he"s up against. He"s out for the boys. He"s out to hand "em dope to make "em better. Oh, it ain"t Sunday School dope. No. He"s the kind o" missioner who does things. He don"t tell "em they"re a b.u.m lot o" toughs who oughter to be in penitentiary. But he makes "em feel that way--the way he acts. He"s just a lone creature, sort of livin" in twilight, who comes along, an" we don"t know when he"s comin". He pa.s.ses out like a shadow in the forests, an" we don"t see him again till he fancies. He"s after the boys the whole darn time. It don"t matter if they"re sick in body or mind. He helps "em the way he knows.
An", mam, they just love him to death. There"s just one man in these forests I wouldn"t dare blaspheme, if I felt like it--which I don"t. No, mam, my life wouldn"t be worth a two seconds buy if I blasphemed--Father Adam. He"s one of G.o.d"s good men, an" I"d be mighty thankful to be like him--some. Gee, and I owe him a piece myself."
"How?"
Nancy"s interest was consuming.
"Why, only he jumped in once when I was being sc.r.a.pped to death. He jumped right in, when he looked like gettin" killed for it. And," he laughed cynically, "he gave me a few more years of the dog"s life of the forest."
The girl moved away from her support.
"I want to thank you, Mr. Laval, for the trouble you"ve taken, and the time you"ve given up to me." The hazel eyes were smiling up into the man"s hard face. "I don"t agree with some of the things you"ve just been telling me; I should hate to, anyway. I don"t even believe you feel the way you say about your men. Still, that"s no account in the matters I came about. The things I"ve got to say when I get back are all to your credit. I"m going over now to talk to--Father Adam. And you needn"t come along with me. You see, you"ve fired my curiosity. Yes, I want to hear the stuff I fancy about the--boys. So I"ll go and talk to your--shepherd of souls. Good-bye."
Nancy"s eyes were bright and smiling as she gazed up into the lean, ascetic face of the man in the black, semi-clerical coat. His garments were worn and almost threadbare. At close quarters she realised an even deeper interest in the man whose presence had wrought such a magical change in the harsh tones of the camp-boss. He was in the heyday of middle life, surely. His hair was long and black. His beard was of a similar hue, and it covered his mouth and chin in a long, but patchy ma.s.s. His eyes were keen but gentle. They, too, were very dark, and the whole cast of his pale face was curiously reminiscent.
"I just had to come along over, sir," she said. "I was with Mr. Laval, and he told me of the work--the great work you do in these camps. Maybe you"ll forgive me intruding. But you see, I"ve come from our headquarters on business, and the folk of these camps interest me. I kind of feel the life the boys live around these forests is a pretty mean life. There"s nothing much to it but work. And it seems to me that those employing them ought to be made to realise they"ve a greater responsibility than just handing them out a wage for work done. So when I saw you come out of the forest and stand here, and Mr. Laval told me about you, I made up my mind right away to come along and--speak to you.
My name"s McDonald--Nancy McDonald."
It was all a little hasty, a little timidly spoken. The dark eyes thoughtfully regarding the wonder of red hair under the close fitting hat were disconcerting, for all there was cordiality in their depths.
At Nancy"s mention of her name, Father Adam instantly averted his gaze, and dropped the hand which he had taken possession of in greeting. It was almost as if the p.r.o.nouncement had caused him to start. But the change, the movement, were un.o.bserved by the girl.
"And you are--Father Adam?" she asked.
The man"s gaze came quickly back.
"That"s how I"m known. It--was kind of you to come along over."
In a moment all the girl"s timidity was gone. If the man had been startled when she had announced her name, he displayed perfect ease now.
"Do you know," Nancy went on, with a happy laugh, "I almost got mad with Laval for his cynicism at the expense of the poor boys who work under his orders. But I think I understand him. He"s a product of a life that moulds in pretty harsh form. He doesn"t mean half he says."
"I"d say few of us do--when we let our feelings go." Father Adam smiled back into the eyes which seemed to hold him fascinated. "You see, Laval"s much what we all are. He"s got a tough job to put through, and he does his utmost. He"s a big man, a brave man, a--yes, perhaps--a harsh man. But he couldn"t do his job as he"s paid to do it if he weren"t all those things." He shook his head. "No, I guess we can"t play with fire long without getting a heap of scars." He shrugged. "But after all I suppose it"s just--life. We"ve got to eat, and we want to live. We don"t need to judge too harshly."
"No. That"s how I feel about the boys--he so condemned."
The girl turned away gazing pensively over the forest. Father Adam was free to regard her without restraint. With her turning the whole expression of his eyes had changed. Incredulous amazement had replaced his smiling ease.
"Would you care to come along through the woods to my shanty, Miss McDonald?" he said, almost diffidently, at last. "Maybe I"ve a cup of coffee there. And I"d say coffee"s the most welcome thing on earth in these forests. It"s a pretty humble shanty but, if you feel like talking things, why, I guess we can sit around there awhile."
The girl s.n.a.t.c.hed at the invitation.
"I was just hoping you"d say something that way," she laughed readily.
"I"d give worlds for a cup of coffee, and I guess the folks in the forests of Quebec know more about coffee in half a second than we city folk know in a year. Which way?"
"It"s only a few yards. You"d best follow me."
The girl stood amazed. She was even horrified. She was gazing in through the opening of the merest shelter, a shelter built of green boughs with roof and sides of interlaced foliage. True it was densely interlaced, but no sort of distorted imagination could have translated the result into anything but a shelter. Habitation was out of the question. She stared at the primitive, less than aboriginal home, of the priestly man.
She stared round her at the undergrowth upon which were spread his brown coa.r.s.e blankets airing. She looked down at the smouldering fire between two granite stones upon which a tin of coffee was simmering and emitting its pleasant aroma upon the woodland air. It was too crude, too utterly lacking in comfort and even the bare necessites of existence.
The man emerged from the interior bearing two enamelled tin cups. He realised the amazement with which Nancy was regarding his home, and shook his head with a pleasant laugh as he indicated two upturned boxes beside the fire.
"You"d best sit, and I"ll tell you about it," he said. "It"s not exactly a swell hotel, is it? But it"s sufficient."
The girl silently took her seat on one of the boxes. Father Adam took the other. Then he poured out two cups of coffee, and pa.s.sed a tin of preserved milk across to the girl. There was a spoon in it. After that he produced a small tin of sugar and offered that.
"You see, it"s all I need," he said, in simple explanation. "When the rain comes I mostly get wet, except at nights when I get under my rubber sheet. But, anyway, there"s plenty of sun to dry me. Oh, winter"s different. I cut out a dug-out then, and burrow like the rest of the forest creatures. But, you see, this thing suits me well. I"m never long in one place. I"ve been here two weeks, and I pull out to-morrow."
"You pull out? Where to?"
"Why, I just pa.s.s on to some other camp. The boys are pretty widely scattered in these forests. You"d never guess the distances I sometimes make. Even Labrador. But it doesn"t much matter. I"ve a good smattering of physic, and the boys are always getting hurt one way and another. I"d hate to feel I couldn"t go to them wherever they are. Maybe if I built a better house I"d not want to leave it. It would be hard getting on the move. You see, I get their call any old time. Maybe it comes along on the forest breezes," he said whimsically. "Then I have to be quick to locate it, and read it right."
The girl had helped herself to milk and sugar, and sipped the steaming coffee. But she was listening with all her ears and thinking feverishly.
This strange creature, with his deprecating manner, and smiling, sane eyes, filled her with a sense of shame at his utter selflessness.
She nodded.