‘THE RAFT RIVALS.’
“The last log of Thériault’s ‘drive,’ not counting a few sticks hopelessly ‘hung up’ on far-off Squatook Shoals, had been captured in the amber eddies of the Lower Basin below Grand Falls, and had been safely pinned into the great raft which was just about to start on its leisurely voyage down the river to the shrieking saws of Fredericton.
“‘This ’ere’s as purty a site fur pinnin’ up a raft as ever I sot eyes on!” remarked Ben Smithers, thrusting his hand into his gray-blue homespun breeches for his fig of ‘black-jack.’
“Ben was sitting on a rock near the water’s edge. No one made answer to his remark, which was perhaps regarded as too obvious to call for comment. Presently a large black dog, as if unwilling that any grain of wisdom should drop from his master’s lips unheeded, thrust his head into Ben’s lap, and uttered a short bark.
“For perhaps half an hour Ben Smithers and his fellows sat on the shore or lounged about the raft, smoking and whittling, and not one complained of the delay. The rafts which Thériault had already despatched down the river, each requiring two or three hands to navigate it through the rapids, had thinned the numbers of the drive down to not more than ten men, all of whom were bound for Fredericton on this very raft.
“Presently one of the hands took the pipe from his mouth, tapped it gently on a log to remove the ashes, and remarked, ‘Here they be!’
“A wagon was descending the precipitous road which led from the unseen village to the beach. An apprehensive looking horse between the shafts hung back warily upon the breeching, and a red-shirted lumberman clung doggedly to one of the wheels. At the anxious horse’s head trudged a boy; and behind or beside the wagon, as pleased her fancy, there danced a five-year-old child, her long yellow hair and bright pink frock making her look like some strange kind of butterfly.
“As their eyes fell on the little creature a grin of rough tenderness flashed out on the faces of the gang. Little Mame Thériault, who came with this wagon-load of supplies for the gang, and who was to accompany the raft down the river, at once became the pet of the drive. Her father, a young widower, took her wherever it was possible, and her baby hands were dispensers of gentleness throughout the roughest gangs.
“Only Jake, the dog, refused his tribute of homage. Jake’s heart was sore within him, for he was jealous of little Mame.
“Jake was a dog among ten thousand. He possessed countless accomplishments, and was ever athirst to learn more. His intelligence was such that ‘cute as Jake’ had become a current phrase of compliment with Ben Smithers and his comrades. Wholly devoted to his master, he was at the same time hail-fellow-well-met with all hands.
“Until Mame’s appearance on the scene, Jake had reigned without a rival. Now it was quite different. The hands, though as respectful as ever, seemed strangely forgetful of his presence at times; and with Ben, when Mame was by, his place had become secondary, and all his eager affection seemed to go as a matter of course. Ordinarily Jake would have liked well to make a playmate of Mame; but as it was—never!
“The whole party had got aboard, and the raft was shoved off into the current. In the middle of the structure stood a rough, temporary shanty of hemlock slabs, with an elbow of rusted stovepipe projecting through the roof. Within this shelter the cook presided, and two or three bunks gave accommodation for part of the gang. The others, including of course Mame and her father, looked to more luxurious sleeping quarters in the settlements along shore.
“Mame was enchanted with her surroundings,—with the shores slipping smoothly past, with the ripples washing up between the logs, with the dashes of spray over the windward edges of the raft, with the steersmen tugging on the great sweeps, and last, but by no means least, with the wide sheets of glossy gingerbread which the cook in his little house was producing for her particular gratification.
“She had never before experienced the delight of a raft voyage. She skipped from side to side on her swift but unsteady little feet, and all hands were kept anxiously alert to prevent her from falling into the water.
“Several times she made playful advances to the big dog, throwing herself down on the logs beside him, and scattering her yellow curls over his black and crinkly coat; but Jake, after a reluctant wagging of his tail, as if to indicate that his action was based on principle, and not on any ill-will toward herself, invariably got up and made a reserved withdrawal to some remoter corner of the raft. Thériault noticed this, as he had done on previous occasions, and it seemed to vex him.
“‘I don’t see what Jake’s got agin the child that he won’t let her play with him,’ he remarked half-crossly.
“‘Oh, I guess it’s ’cause he ain’t no ways used ter children, an’ he’s kinder afeared o’ breakin’ her,’ Ben Smithers responded laughingly.
“Jake had caught the irritation in the boss’s tone, and had vaguely comprehended it. Upon the boss his resentment was tending to concentrate itself. He could harbor no real ill-feeling toward the child, but upon Luke Thériault he seemed to lay the whole blame for his dethronement.
“Toward noon the breeze died down, and the heat grew fierce. The yellow-pink gum began to soften and trickle on the sunny sides of the logs, and great fragrant beads of balsam to ooze out from every axe-wound. The gang clustered, as far as possible, under the insufficient shade of the cook-house, in loosely sprawling attitudes,—hats off and shirt-bosoms thrown wide open. Jake got down on the lowermost tier of logs, and lay panting in a couple of inches of water, surrounded by floating bits of bark and iridescent patches of balsam scum.
“As for Mame, her pink frock by this time was pretty well bedraggled, and frock and hands alike smeared and blackened with balsam. Her sturdy little copper-toed boots were water-soaked. The heat had a suppressing effect even upon her, and she spent much of the time in Ben’s lap in the shade of the cook-house; but now and then she would rouse herself to renewed excursions, and torment the raftsmen’s weather-beaten breasts with fresh alarms.
“The river at this part of its course was full of shoals and cross-currents, calling for a skilful pilot; and Thériault kept sweltering about the open raft rather than trust the steering to less responsible hands.
“Just as the cook, with parboiled countenance, came to the door of his den to announce the dinner, Mame had run to Jake’s retreat, and crawled down upon the panting animal’s back.
“This contributed not at all to Jake’s coolness, and he felt seriously disturbed by the intrusion. Slipping from under as gently as he could, he moved away in vexation, and Mame rolled in the shallow water.
“She picked herself up, wet and whimpering; and Thériault, who happened to be standing close by, spoke angrily to the dog, and gave him a sharp kick.
“For Jake this was a new and startling experience. He could hardly resist the temptation to spring upon his insulter, and pin him to the raft. Too wise for this, however, he merely stiffened himself to his full height with a sudden, deep growl, and rolled a significant side glance upon his assailant.
“The boss was astonished. At the same time he was just a little startled, which made him still more angry, and he shouted,—
“‘Don’t you snarl at me, you brute, or I’ll kick you off o’ the raft!’
“Ben Smithers interposed. ‘Don’t kick him agin, boss!’ he exclaimed. ‘I don’t mean no disrespec’, but Jake ain’t never had no kicks an’ cuffs, an’ I’d ruther he didn’t have none, ’less he desarves ’em. He don’t know now what you kicked him fur, an’ he’s only protestin’. He wouldn’t hurt a hair o’ yer head; an’ ez fur Mame, howsomever he may keep outen her way in this ’ere heat, I’d jest like ter see anythin’ try ter tech her onkind when Jake war ’round. You’d see then who was Mame’s friend!’
“During Ben’s expostulation Thériault had cooled down. He laughed a little awkwardly, and acknowledged that he ‘hadn’t no call, under the circumstances, to kick the dog;’ but at the same time it was with no glance of affection that he eyed Jake during dinner.
“When the meal was over he cautioned Mame so severely that the child began to look upon the dog as a bloodthirsty monster, and thereafter Jake was persecuted no more with her attentions.
“The poor dog was none the happier on this account. Unheeded by his master, who through most of the afternoon kept nursing the wearied child in his lap, the poor animal lay grieving on a far-off corner of the raft.
“Late in the afternoon the raft entered the succession of rapids lying below the mouth of the Munquauk. There are few shoals here, but the steering is difficult by reason of turbulent water and cross currents. About this time, than which none could be more inopportune, little Mame woke to new life, and resumed her perilous flittings about the raft. The men who were not needed at the sweeps were kept busy in pursuit of her. The swift motion, the tremblings of the raft, the tumult of the currents,—these all enchanted and exhilarated the child. Like a golden-crowned fairy, she balanced tiptoe upon the upper logs, clapping her stained little hands, her hair blown all about her face.
“Suddenly forsaking Ben’s company, she started toward her father, where he stood at the stern of the raft, directing the steersmen. The father reached out his hands to her, laughing. She was within three or four feet of him, but she chose to tantalize him a little. She darted to one side, pausing on the very edge of the raft.
“At this moment the timbers lurched under a heavy swell. Mame lost her balance, and with a shrill cry of terror she fell into the pitching current.
“A mingled groan and prayer went up all over the raft; and Thériault and one of the hands, a big woodsman named Vandine, plunged in to the rescue. Ben Smithers was not a swimmer, and he could only stand and wring his hands.
“Thériault and the other who had sprung in were both strong swimmers; but a narrow surface current had seized Mame’s small form, and whirled it far away from the raft, while the heavy bodies of the men, grasped by the under-current, were forced in a different direction.
“Slowly battling with the Waves, Jake and His Precious Burden drew Near the Raft.”—Page 346.
“Thériault’s face grew ghastly and drawn as he saw the distance between himself and his child slowly widening. His desperate efforts could not carry him away from the raft, and he marked that Vandine was no more successful than he. A choking spasm tightened about his throat, and he gave a keen, sobbing cry of anguish as he saw the little pink-frocked form go under for the first time.
“Then a great black body shot into the air above his head, and landed with a splash far beyond him. ‘Jake!’ he thought instantly; and a thankful sigh went up from his heart. Now he began to care once more about keeping his own head above water.
“Jake was late in noticing the catastrophe. He had been deep in a sullen and heavy sleep. When the cries awoke him he yawned, and then mounted a log to take a survey of the situation. In a second or two he caught sight of the pink frock tossing in the waves, and of the little hands flung up in appeal.
“His instantaneous and tremendous rush carried him far out from the raft, and then his pure Newfoundland blood made him master of the situation.
“Little he cared for the tumult and the white-capped waves! His sinewy shoulders and broad-webbed feet drove him straight through cross-current and eddy to where the child had sunk. When she came up he was within five feet of her, and with a quick plunge he caught her by the shoulder.
“And now Jake’s difficulties began. In quieter waters he would have found no trouble, but here he was unable to choose his hold. The men saw him let go of the child’s shoulder, snatch a mouthful of the frock, and start for the raft.
“In this position Mame’s head passed under water, and all hands were in a panic lest she should drown before Jake could get her in. But the dog dropped his burden yet again, seized the little one by the upper part of the arm, and in this position was able to hold her head clear.
“But it was a trying position. To maintain it, Jake had to swim high, and to set his teeth with pitiless firmness into the child’s tender arm. The wave-crests slapped ceaselessly in his face, half-choking him, and strangling Mame’s cries every instant.
“Thériault and Vandine were by this time so exhausted as to be quite powerless, and were with difficulty pulled back upon the raft. There stood all hands straining their gaze upon the gallant dog’s progress. Ben Smithers waited, with a pike-pole, on the very edge of the timbers, ready to hook the steel into Mame’s frock, and lift her aboard the moment Jake got within reach.
“Slowly battling with the waves, Jake and his precious burden drew near the raft. Already Ben Smithers was reaching out his pike-pole. Suddenly there was a crash, and the raft stopped short, quivering, while the waves poured over its upper edge. The timbers of the farther inshore corner had run aground and wedged fast.
“There was a moment of bewildering suspense, while Jake and his charge were swept swiftly past the hands stretched out to save them. Then the raft broke into two parts, and the larger outside portion swung out across the main current and drove straight down upon the swimmer.
“With a cry the raftsmen threw themselves flat on the logs, grasped at the dog, and succeeded in snatching the now silent child to a place of safety.
“Jake had just got his fore-paws over the logs when the mass drove down upon his body. His head went back under the water; and Ben, who had a firm grip in the long hair of his pet’s fore shoulders, was himself well nigh dragged overboard. Two of his comrades, throwing themselves on the logs beside him, plunged down their arms into the boiling foam and got hold of the helpless dog, and, almost lifeless, Jake was laid upon the raft.
“Feebly wagging his tail, the noble fellow lay with his head in Ben Smithers’s lap, while the strength returned to his sinews, and the breath found its way again to the depths of his laboring lungs. As the gang gathered about, and a babel arose of praise and sympathy, Jake seemed to appreciate the tribute.
“When the boss had seen his child put safely and warmly to bed in the cook’s bunk, he rushed forward and threw himself down beside Ben Smithers. He embraced Jake’s dripping body, burying his face in the wet black ringlets, and speaking words of gratitude as fast as he could utter them.
“All this, though passionately sincere, and to Ben highly satisfactory and appropriate, was to Jake a plain annoyance. He knew nothing of the delights of reconcilement, or of the beauty of an effective situation, and he failed to respond. He simply didn’t like Thériault. He endured the endearments for a little, gazing straight into Ben’s face with a piteous appeal. Then he staggered to his feet, dragged himself around to the other side of his master, and thrust his big wet head under the shield of Ben’s ample arm.
“Thériault laughed good-naturedly and rose to his feet. ‘Poor Jake!’ he murmured, ‘I ain’t goin’ to persecute him with no more thanks, seein’ he don’t greatly enjoy it. But I can tell you, Ben Smithers, what a mistake I made this morning, an’ how it sticks in my crop now to think on it.’
“Here the boss thrust out his hand, and Ben Smithers grasped it cordially. It was a general understanding that the boss thus apologized to Jake for his behavior in the morning, and that thus Jake duly accepted the apology. Jake was expected to understand the proceeding as the gang did, and to abide by it. No atom of surprise was felt, therefore, when, after the lapse of a day, it became plain that Jake and the boss were on the best of terms, with Mame in her proper place of idolized and caressed subordination.”
“That Jake was not all unworthy to sit with Jeff and Dan,” said I, as Queerman ended.
“No,” said Ranolf; “he was a prince among dogs.”
After this we told no more stories. I, who had all the records in charge, made my report, giving statistics as to fish caught, miles travelled, localities of camps, and so forth, as well as the names and tellers of all the stories. The report proving satisfactory, we sang “Home, Sweet Home” and “Auld Lang Syne,” standing around the camp-fire. Then, somewhat soberly, we turned in.
Right after breakfast on the following morning we put our canoes on the train, and were soon whirling homeward, proud in the consciousness of sunburned skins, alarming appetites, and renovated digestions.