Verses and Rhymes By the Way

by Norah

So many a dashing hunter brave,
And many an axeman of the wood,
And hardy settler was her slave
And thought the bondage very good;
But she, so kind to those she met,
She smiled on all, but walked apart,
Keeping the treasure of her heart,
The fair Queen of Plantagenet,
No thought of love her bosom stirs
Toward her rustic worshippers
Until one came and settled near
Famed as a hunter of the deer

The firmest hand, the truest eye,
The dauntless heart and courage high
Where his, and famed beyond his years
He stood among his young compeers,
He, ere the snow-wreath left the land,
Slew two fierce wolves with single hand,
Famished they followed on his tracks,
He armed with nothing but his axe
He knew the river far and near,
Beyond the foaming dread Chaudiere,
Far far beyond that spot of fear
He'd been a hardy voyageur
Through the white swells of many assault
Had safely steered his bark canoe,
Knew how to pass each raging chute,
Though boiling like the wild Culbute
The wilds of nature were his home,
His paddle beat the fleecy foam
Of surging rapids' yeasty spray.
And bore him often far away
Beyond the pinefringed Allumette,
He saw the sun in glory set,
His boat song roused the lurking fox
From den beside the Oiseau rock
Upward upon the river's breast,
The highway to the wild Nor-west,
Past the long lake Temiscamingue,
Where wild drakes plume their glossy wing,
Oft had he urged his light canoe,
Hunting the moose and caribou;
He knew each portage on the way
To the far posts of Hudson's Bay,
And even its frozen waters saw,
When roaming courier du bois,
In the great Company's employ,
Which he had entered when a boy.
Comely he was, and blithe, and young,
Had a light heart and merry tongue,
And bright dark eye, was brave and bold,
Skilful to earn, and wise to hold,
And so this hunter came our way,
And stole our wood nymph's heart away;
And it became Belle Marie's lot
To love Napoleon Rajotte

Of all the sad despairing swains,
Foredoomed to disappointment's pains,
None felt the pangs of jealous woe
So keenly as Antome Vaiseau.
A thrifty settler's only son,
Who much of backwoods wealth had won;
A steady lad of nature mild,
Had been her playmate from a child,
And saw a stranger thus come in,
And take what he had died to win.
He saw him loved the best, the first,
Still he his hopeless passion nursed.

At Easter time the Cure came,
And after Easter time was gone,
The hunter brave, the peerless dame
Were blessed and made for ever one

Beside the cottage white she stood,
And looked across the swelling flood—
Across the wave that rolled between
The islets robed in tender green,
Watching with eager eyes, she views
A fleet of large well-manned canoes,
The high curved bow and stern she knew,
That marked each "Company canoe,"
And o'er the wave both strong and clear,
Their boat-song floated to her ear
She marked their paddles' steady dip,
And listened with a quivering lip,
Her bridegroom, daring, gay, and young,
With the bold heart and winning tongue,
Was with them, upward bound, away
To the far posts of Hudson's Bay,
Gone ere the honeymoon is past,
The bright brief moon too sweet to last,
Gone for two long and dreary years,
And she must wait and watch at home,
Bear patiently her woman's fears,
And hope and pray until he come,
She stands there still although the last
Canoe of all the fleet is past.
Of paddle's dip, of boat-song gay,
The last faint sound has died away,
She only said in turning home
"I'll wait and pray until he come"

PART II

Spring flung abroad her dewy charms,
And blushing grew to summer shine,
Summer sped on with outstretched arms,
To meet brown autumn crowned with vine,
The forest glowed in gold and green,
The leafy maples flamed in red
With the warm, hazy, happy beam
Of Indian summer overhead,
Bright, fair, and fleet as passing dream.
The autumn also hurried on,
And, shuddering, dropped her leafy screen;
The ice-king from the frozen zone,
In fleecy robe of ermine dressed,
Came stopping rivers with his hand
Binding in chains of ice the land;
Bringing, ere early spring he met,
To Marie of Plantagenet,
A pearly snow-drop for her breast.
An infant Marie to her home
To brighten it until he come.

Twice had the melting nor-west snow
Come down to flood the Ottawa's wave.
"The seasons as they come and go
Bring back," she said, "the happy day
To welcome him from far away;
Thy father, child, my hunter brave."
That snow-drop baby now could stand,
And run to Marie's outstretched hand;
Had all the charms that are alone
To youthful nursing mothers known.

'Twas summer in the dusty street,
'Twas summer in the busy town,
Summer in forests waving green,
When, at an inn in old Lachine,
And in the room where strangers meet,
Sat one, bright-eyed and bold and brown.
Soon will he joyful start for home,
For home in fair Plantagenet.
His wallet filled with two years' pay,
Well won at distant Hudson's Bay,
And the silk dress that stands alone,
For her the darling, dark-eyed one.
Parted so long, so soon to meet,
His every thought of her is sweet.
"My bride, my wife, with what regret,
I left her at Plantagenet!"
There came no whisper through the air
To tell him of his baby fair.
But still he sat with absent eye,
And thoughts that were all homeward bound,
And passed the glass untasted by,
While jest, and mirth, and song went round.
There sat and jested, drunk and sung,
The captain of an Erie boat,
With Erin's merry heart and tongue,
A skilful captain when afloat—
On shore a boon companion gay;
The foremost in a tavern brawl,
To dance or drink the night away,
Or make love in the servants' hall.
The merry devil in his eye
Could well all passing round him spy.
Wanting picked men to man his boat,
Eager to be once more afloat,
His keen eye knew the man he sought;
At once he pitched upon Rajotte.
The bright, brown man, so silent there,
He judged could both endure and dare;
He waited till he caught his eye.
Then raising up his glass on high,
"Stranger, I drink your health," said he,
"You'll sail the 'Emerald Isle,' with me.
"A smarter crew, a better boat,
"Lake Erie's waves will never float,
"I want but one to fill my crew;
"I wish no better man than you;
"High wage, light work, a jolly life
"Is ours—no care, no fret, no strife.
"So come before the good chance pass,
"And drown our bargain in the glass."
"Not so," Rajotte said with a smile,
"Let others sail the 'Emerald Isle,'
For I have been two years away,
A trapper at the Hudson's Bay;
Two years is long enough to roam,
I'm bound to see my wife and home."

The captain shook his curly head,
"Did you not hear the news?" he said,
"Last summer came from Hudson's Bay,
A courier from York Factory.
He brought the news that you were dead—
Killed by a wounded grizzly bear
When trapping all alone up there—
Found you himself the fellow said;
And your wife mourned and wept her fill
Refusing to be comforted.
But grief you know will pass away,
She found new love as women will;
And married here the other day."