At night the bears, wolves and foxes would come to that pile of fish, making night hideous with their barks and growls. None of us dared go out doors after night came. We lived on the opposite side of the river from Mr. Frankle's mill. Father had to cross the river every morning many times. Bears were swimming across the river and we children used to watch them from our windows. The wolves would come to our large smokehouse at night and take the smoked sturgeon, growling and snarling around our windows. Our boys were busy days and got their lessons in the evening.
THE OLD GRANDPA AND BOB COMING TO LIVE WITH US.
Mother had a cousin who was an old man of eighty. He had worked for the Hudson Bay and Great American Fur Companies of John Jacob Astor, carrying great loads of provisions to the trappers all through the Lake Superior country, then taking the loads of fur back to market from the trappers' camps. He being now too old to work, and without a home, my father feeling sorry gave him a home with us. He was so grateful and happy he could scarcely express his gratitude, speaking very little English and that very broken. French, Spanish and Indian he spoke fluently. He was born in Canada of French and Spanish parents. His mother and my mother's mother were sisters. His name was Bertemau Mazoka. The trappers called him Magazau, meaning "store" in English, as with his two dogs, Bob and Maje, he carried a regular store for the trappers. One dog, Maje, had died. Bob, the other, was eighteen years old, and inseparable from the old grandpa, as we children were taught to call him. He loved to have us call him grandpa. He was very kind and patient with us, never tiring of doing something for our comfort.
OLD DOG BOB.
But Bob, how can I describe him, the old, patient, faithful dog! He was large and powerful, dark brown with darker stripes in color, part bull in breed, but just as gentle and kind in disposition as possible. He had pulled the heavy loads so long he was almost blind, teeth almost gone and rheumatism so bad it was hard for him to get upon his feet when he laid down. When grandpa came bringing Bob he had said in his broken English, "Mr. Whitney you take me, you take Bob too. Me can't stay if Bob no stay." The old dog seemed to know what his master was saying, for he came close to him and looked straight into father's face. Then father said, "Yes, Bob can stay too." He tried to show his delight with his master by jumping about. It would be hard to tell which of us Bob loved the best. I can see him now sitting in some out-of-the-way corner watching us with his great, almost human eyes. He had not always been kindly treated. He seemed to be so afraid to be in anybody's way, and when he saw us petting the other two dogs he would slink away with head down and look so dejected. The young dogs, too, knew he was a stranger and growled at him and bossed him about. Then poor old Bob would go back of the house and cry and whine so pitifully. At last father could stand it no longer and gave the order Bob must not be annoyed any more and must have a bed and lay behind the stove in the big corner, and that no one was ever to speak a cross word or strike Bob. Grandpa cried with delight.
BOB'S NEW MASTER.
Sometimes Bob could not get up alone, then father would lift him up and rub his neck where the collar had worn it sore on his long pulls. He would lick father's hand and look into his face so pitiful it made us all feel sorry to see him suffer. Very soon Bob began not to notice his master very much, but would try to go fast to meet father when he came into the house, and when he could not get up father would go to him, talk and rub him. The dog seemed to understand the kindness. When grandpa saw Bob cared more for father than for himself he cried like a little child. After awhile he said, "No wonder Bob love you, you so good to him, you so good to me, me love you too. Me now give you Bob. You keep Bob for yourself till he die." Then the tears fell fast for a time. After that Bob seemed to know he had a new master and seemed content. With care Bob improved and got about so much smarter. Father had to be away all day to his work. At night when he came home Charley, Bob and I were always at the door to meet him. Sometimes in the winter evenings when grandpa would be telling us his stories and singing to us his songs Charley and I would fall fast asleep curled up on the rug with Bob.
DEATH OF MRS. MCWILLIAMS.
One day mother was very sick in bed with neuralgia. How gloomy and lonely the house seemed to us children, we missed her so. Grandpa was caring for us children and doing the house work as best he could. Then mother was better and able to sit up trying to sew, saying she could not afford to be idle. Not long after this one day, I know it was Sunday, we were dressed in our Sunday suits, father was reading to us, a knock came on the door, the latch was lifted, the door opened and John McWilliams almost fell into the room, saying, "Come both of you, my mother is dead." Then he sank into a chair and cried as if his heart would break. Mother arose from her easy chair saying "Come Walter, we must go." Father tried to have her not go, telling her she was not able to go, she ought to be in bed as her face was still badly swollen. The snow being deep and it was very cold. Neither father, grandpa, nor we crying children could stop her going. She was dressed in a short time and tried to have poor John eat. He could not eat, saying he must go right back to his dead mother. He left us and all was now commotion. Father and mother were now both going away into the cold, deep snow and leave us children with grandpa.