 6 A New Friend The night race with the wolves began a new phase of life for Randall, for in that hour he gained a friend such as it falls to few lads to have. Mrs. Murray's high courage in the bush, her skill in the sick room, and that fine spiritual air she carried with her made for her a place in his imagination where men set their divinities. The hero and the saint in her stirred his poetic and fervent soul and set it aglow with a feeling near to adoration. To Mrs. Murray also of the events of that night set forth Randall in a new light. In the shy, awkward, almost sullen lad there had suddenly been revealed in those moments of peril the cool, daring man, full of resource and capable of self-sacrifice. Her heart went out toward him, and she set herself to win his confidence and to establish a firm friendship with him, but this was no easy matter. MacDonald Dew and his son, living a half-savage life in their lonely back clearing, were regarded by their neighbours with a certain degree of distrust and fear. They were not like other people, they seldom mingled in the social festivities of the community, and consequently were more or less excluded from friendship and free intercourse with their neighbours. Randall, shy, proud and sensitive, felt this exclusion, and in return kept himself aloof, even from the boys and especially from the girls of his own age. His attendance at school was of a fragmentary and spasmodic nature, and he never really came to be on friendly terms with his fellow pupils. His one friend was Don Cameron, whom the boys called Wobbles from his gate in running, whose father's farm backed that of MacDonald Dew. And though Don was a year older, he gave to Randall a homage almost amounting to worship, for in all those qualities that go to establish leadership among boys Randall was easily first. In the sport that called for speed, courage and insurance Randall was chief of all. Fleet of foot there was no runner from the twelfth to the twentieth that could keep him in sight, and when he stood up to fight, the mere blaze of his eyes often won him victory before a blow was struck. To Don Randall opened his heart more than to anyone else, all others he kept at a distance. It was in vain that Mrs. Murray and her daily visits to MacDonald Dew sought to find out Randall and to come to speech with him, and Kirsty never knew where he was, and to her calls long and loud from the back door and from the front no response ever came. It was Huey Murray who finally brought Randall once more into touch with the minister's wife. They had come one early morning, Huey with Fido hitched in a sled driving over the crust on the snow banks by the roadside, and his mother on the pony, to make their call upon the sick man. As they drew near the house they heard a sound of hammering. That's Randall's mother, exclaimed Huey. Let me go and find him. I don't want to go in. Be sure you don't go far away, then, Huey. You know we must hurry home today, and Huey faithfully promised. But alas for Huey's promises, when his mother came out of the house with Kirsty he was within neither sight nor hearing. They will just be at the camp, said Kirsty. The camp? Aye, the sugaring camp down yonder in the sugar-bush. It is not far off from the wood road. I will be going with you. Not at all, Kirsty, said the minister's wife. I think I know where it is, and I can go home that way quite well. Besides, I want to see Randall. She did not say she would rather see him alone. Indeed he is the queer lad, and he is worse since coming back from the shanties. Kirsty was evidently much worried about Randall. Never mind, said the minister's wife kindly, we must just be patient. Randall is going on fast toward manhood, and he can be held only by the heart. Aye, said Kirsty, with a sigh. I doubt his father will never be able any more to take a strap to him. Yes, said Mrs. Murray, smiling, I am afraid he is far beyond that. Beyond it exclaimed Kirsty astonished at such a doctrine. Indeed, and his father and his uncle would be getting it then, when they were as big as they will ever be, and much the better were they for it. I don't think it would do for Randall, said the minister's wife, smiling again as she said goodbye to Kirsty. Then she took her way down the wood road into the bush. She found the camp road easily, and after a quarter of an hour's ride, she heard the sound of an axe, and soon came upon the sugar-camp. Randall was putting the finishing touches to a little shanty of seeder-polls and interwoven balsam brush, and Huey was looking on in admiration and blissful delight. Why, that's beautiful, said Mrs. Murray. I should like to live in a house like that myself. Oh, mother, shouted Huey, isn't it splendid? Randall and Dawn are going to live in it all the sugaring time, and Randall wants me to come too. May anti-mother ought to let me. The mother looked down upon the eager face, smiled, and shook her head. What about the night, Huey? she said. It will be very dark in the woods here, and very cold too. Randall and Dawn are big boys and strong, but I'm afraid my little boy would not be very comfortable sleeping outside. Oh, mother, we'll be inside, and it'll be awful warm, and oh, you might let me. Huey's tears were restrained only by the shame of weeping before his hero, Randall. Well, we will see what your father says when he comes home. Oh, mother, he will just say no right off, and—a shadow crossed his mother's face, but she only answered quietly. Never mind just now, Huey, we will think of it. Besides, she added, I don't know how much Randall wants to be bothered with a wee boy like you. Randall gave her a quick shy glance, and answered, He will be no trouble, Mrs. Murray, and then noticing Huey's imploring face he ventured to add, and indeed I hope you will let him come. I will take good care of him. Mrs. Murray hesitated. Oh, mother, cried Huey, seeing her hesitation, just one night, I won't be a bit afraid. No, I don't believe you would, looking down into the brave young face. But what about your mother, Huey? Oh, Shaw, you wouldn't be afraid. Huey's confidence in his mother's courage was unbounded. I don't know about that, she replied, and then turning to Randall. How about our friends of the other night, she said. Will they not be about? Huey had not heard about the wolves. Oh, there is no fear of them. We will keep a big fire all night, and besides, we will have our guns and the dogs. Guns? cried Mrs. Murray. This was a new terror for her boy. I'm afraid I cannot trust Huey where there are guns. He might— Indeed, let me catch him touching a gun, said Randall quickly, and from his tone and the look in his face Mrs. Murray felt sure that Huey would be safe from self-destruction by the guns. Well, well, come away, Huey, and we will see, said Mrs. Murray. But Huey hung back, sulking, unwilling to move till he had got his mother's promise. Come, Huey, get fighto ready, we must hurry, said his mother again. Still Huey hesitated. Then Randall turned swiftly on him. Did you hear your mother? Come, get out of this. His manner was so fierce that Huey started immediately for his dog, and without another word of entreaty made ready to go. The mother noted his quick obedience, and smiling at Randall said, I think I might trust him with you for a night or two, Randall. When do you think you could come for him? We will finish the tapping tomorrow, and I could come the day after with the jumper, said Randall, pointing to the stout homemade slay used for gathering the sap and the wood for the fire. Oh, I see you have begun tapping, said Mrs. Murray, and do you do it yourself? Why, yes, mother, don't you see all those trees, cried Huey, pointing to a number of maples that stood behind the shanty. Randall and Don did all those and made the spiles too. See? He caught up a spile from a heap lying near the door. Randall made all these. Why, that's fine, Randall. How do you make them? I have never seen one made. Oh, mother! Huey's voice was full of pity for her ignorance. He had seen his first that afternoon. I have never seen the tapping of a tree. I believe I shall learn just now if Randall will only show me from the very beginning. Her eager interest in his work won Randall from his reserve. There's not much to see, he said apologetically. You just cut a notch in the tree and drive in the spile, and—oh, but wait, she cried. That's just what I wanted to see. How do you make the spile? Oh, that is easy, said Randall. He took up a slightly concave chisel or gouge and slit a slim slab from off a block of cedar about a foot long. This is a spile, he exclaimed. We drive it into the tree and the sap runs down into the trough, you see. No, I don't see, said the minister's wife. She was too thorough going to do things by halves. How do you drive this into the tree and how do you get the sap to run down it? I will show you, he said, and taking with him a gouge and axe he approached a maple still untapped. You first make a gouge like this. So saying, with two or three blows of his axe he made a slanting notch in the tree. And then you make a place for the spile this way? With the back of his axe he drove his gouge into the corner of the notch and then fitted his spile into the incision so made. Ah, now I see, and you put the trough under the drip from the spile. But how do you make the trough? I did not make them, said Ronald, some of them father made and some of them belonged to the Camerons, but it is easy enough. You just take a thick slab of basswood and hollow it out with the ads. Mrs. Murray was greatly pleased. I'm very much obliged to you, Ronald, she said, and I am glad I came down to see your camp. Now if you will ask me, I should like to see you make the sugar. Had her request been made before the night of their famous ride, Ronald would have found some polite reason for refusal, but now he was rather surprised to find himself urging her to come to a sugaring off at the close of the season. I shall be delighted to come, cried Mrs. Murray, and it is very good of you to ask me, and I shall bring my niece, who is coming with Mr. Murray from town, to spend some weeks with me. Ronald's face fell but his highland courtesy forbade retreat. If she would care, he said doubtfully. Oh, I am sure she would be very glad. She has never been outside of the city, and I want her to learn all she can of the country and the woods. It is positively painful to see the ignorance of these city children in regard to all living things, beasts and birds and plants, why many of them couldn't tell a beach from a basswood. Oh, mother, protested Huey, aghast at such ignorance. Yes, indeed, it is dreadful, I assure you, said his mother, smiling, why I know a grown-up woman who didn't know till after she was married the difference between a spruce and a pine. But you know them all now, said Huey, a little anxious for his mother's reputation. Yes, indeed, said his mother proudly, every one I think at least when the leaves are out. So I want Mimi to learn all she can. Rannel did not like the idea any too well, but after they had gone his thoughts kept turning to the proposed visit of Mrs. Murray and her niece. Mimi, said Rannel to himself, so that is her name. It had a musical sound and was different from the names of the girls he knew, Betsy and Kirstie and Jesse and Margaret and Ginny. It was finer somehow than these and seemed to suit better a city girl. He wondered if she would be nice, but he decided that doubtless she would be proud. To be proud was the unpardonable sin with the glingary boy. The boy or girl convicted of this crime earned the contempt of all self-respecting people. On the whole Rannel was sorry she was coming. Even in school he was shy with the girls and kept away from them. They were always giggling and blushing and making one feel queer, and they never meant what they said. He had no doubt Mimi would be like the rest and perhaps a little worse. Of course, being Mrs. Murray's niece she might be something like her. Still, that could hardly be. No girl could ever be like the minister's wife. He resolved he would turn Mimi over to Dawn. He remembered with great relief that Dawn did not mind girls. Indeed, he suspected Dawn rather enjoyed playing the forfeit games at school with them in which the penalties were paid in kisses. How often had he shuddered and admired from a distance while Dawn and the others played those daring games? Yes, Dawn would do the honors for Mimi. Perhaps Dawn would even venture to play forfeits with her. Rannel felt his face grow hot at this thought. Then with sudden self-detection he cried angrily aloud. I don't care, let him. He may, for all I care. Who may what? cried a voice behind him. It was Dawn himself. Nothing, said Rannel blushing shame-facedly. Why, what are you mad about? asked Dawn, noticing his flushed face. Who is mad, said Rannel? I'm not mad, whatever. While you look mighty like it, said Dawn, you look mad enough to fight. But Rannel, ignoring him, simply said, We will need to be gathering the sap this evening, for the troughs will be full. Ha-ha, said Dawn, I guess we can carry all there is to-day, but we will have to get the colt to-morrow. Got the spiles ready? Enough for to-day, said Rannel, wondering how he could tell Dawn of the proposed visit of Mrs. Murray and her niece. Taking each a bundle of spiles and an axe, the boys set out for the part of the sugar-bush as yet untapped, and began their work. The minister's wife and Huey were here just now, began Rannel. Ha-ha, I met them down the road. Huey said he was coming day after to-morrow. Did Mrs. Murray tell you? Tell me what? Did she tell you she would like to see a sugaring off? No, they didn't stop long enough to tell me anything. Huey shouted at me as they passed. Well, said Rannel, speaking slowly and with difficulty, she wanted bad to see the sugar-making, and I asked her to come. You did, eh? I wonder at you. And she wanted to bring her niece, and—and I let her, said Rannel. Her niece? Jerusalem! cried Dawn. Do you know who her niece is? Not I, said Rannel, looking rather alarmed. Well, she is the daughter of the big lumberman Sinclair, and she is a great swell. Rannel stood speechless. That does beat all pursuit, Dawn, and you asked her to our camp? Then Rannel grew angry. And why not, he said defiantly. What is wrong about that? Oh, nothing much, laughed Dawn, if I had done it, but for you, Rannel. Why, what will you do with that swell young lady from the city? I will just do nothing, said Rannel. There will be you and Mrs. Murray, and— Oh, I say, burst in, Dawn, that's bully. Let's ask some of the boys, and your aunt, and my mother, and some of the girls. Oh, shucks, said Rannel angrily. You just want Margaret aired. You get out, cried Dawn, indignantly, Margaret aired. Then after a pause, he added, All right, I don't want anybody else. I'll look after Mrs. Murray, and you and Mimi can do what you like. This combination sounded so terrible to Rannel that he surrendered at once, and it was arranged that there should be a grand sugaring off, and that others, besides the minister's wife and her niece, should be invited. But Mrs. Murray had noticed the falling of Rannel's faith at the mention of Mimi's visit to the camp, and, feeling that she had taken him at a disadvantage, she determined that she would, the very next day, put herself right with him. She was eager to follow up the advantage she had gained the day before, in establishing terms of friendship with Rannel, for her heart went out to the boy, in whose deep, passionate nature she saw vast possibilities for good or ill. On her return from her daily visit to MacDonald due, she took the camp road, and had the good fortune to find Rannel alone, rigging up his kettles preparatory to the boiling. But she had no time for kettles today, and she went straight to her business. I came to see you, Rannel, she said, after she had shaken hands with him, about our sugaring off. I've been thinking that it would perhaps be better to have no strangers, but just old friends, you and Don and Huey and me. Rannel had once caught her meaning, but found himself strangely unwilling to be extricated from his predicament. I mean, said Mrs. Murray, frankly, we might enjoy it better without my niece, and so perhaps we could have the sugaring when I come to bring Huey home on Friday. Mimi does not come till Saturday. Her frankness disarmed Rannel of his reserve. I know well what you mean, he said, without his usual awkwardness, but I do not mind now at all having your niece come, and Don is going to have a party. The quiet, grave tone was that of a man, and Mrs. Murray looked at the boy with new eyes. She did not know that it was her own frank confidence that had won like confidence from him. How old are you, Ranneled? she said in her wonder. I will be going on eighteen. You will soon be a man, Ranneled. Ranneled remained silent, and she went on earnestly. A strong, good, brave man, Ranneled. The blood rushed to the boy's face with a sudden flood, but still he stood silent. I'm going to give you Huey for two days, she continued, in the same earnest voice, and leaning down over her pony's neck toward him. I want him to know strong and manly boys. He's very fond of you, Ranneled. He thinks you are better than any man in the world. She paused, her lips parting in a smile that made Ranneled's heart beat quick. Then she went on with a shy hesitancy. Ranneled, I know the boys sometimes drop words they should not, and tell stories unfit to hear, though blood was beginning to show in her cheek. And I would not like my little boy. Her voice broke suddenly, but recovering quickly she went on in grave, sweet tones. I trust him to you, Ranneled, for this time and afterward. He looks up to you. I want him to be a good, brave man, and to keep his heart pure. Ranneled could not speak, but he looked steadily into Mrs. Murray's eyes as he took the hand she offered, and she knew he was pledging himself to her. You'll come for him to-morrow, she said as she turned away, by this time Ranneled had found his voice. Yes, ma'am, he replied, and I will take good care of him. Once more Mrs. Murray found herself looking at Ranneled as if seeing him for the first time. He had the solemn voice and manner of a man making oath of allegiance, and she rode away with her heart at rest concerning her little boy. With Ranneled, at least, he would be safe. Those two days had been for Huey long and weary, but at last the great day came for him as all great days will come for those who can wait. Ranneled appeared at the man's before the breakfast was well begun, and Huey with the unconscious egoism of childhood was for rushing off without thought of preparation for himself or a farewell for those left behind. Indeed, he was for leaving his porridge untasted, declaring he wasn't a bit hungry, but his mother brought him to his senses. No breakfast, no sugar-bush today, Huey, she said, we cannot send men out to the woods who cannot eat breakfast, can we, Ranneled? Huey at once fell upon his porridge with vigor, while Ranneled, who was much too shy to eat at the minister's table, sat, and waited. After breakfast was over, Jesse was called in for the morning worship, without which no day was ever begun in the man's. At worship in the minister's house, everyone present took part. It was Huey's special joy to lead the singing of the psalm. His voice rose high and clear even above his mother's, for he loved to sing, and Ranneled's presence inspired him to do his best. Ranneled had often heard the psalm sung in a church. Eye to the hills will lift mine eyes, from whence doth come mine aid. And the tune was the old, familiar French, but somehow it was all new to him that day. The fresh voices and the crisp, prompt movement of the tune made Ranneled feel as if he had never heard the psalm sung before. In the reading he took his verse with the others, stumbling a little, not because the words were too big for him, but because they seemed to run into one another. The chapter for the day contained Paul's injunction to Timothy, urging him to fidelity and courage as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. When the reading was done Mrs. Murray told them a story of a young man who had shed his blood upon a Scottish Moor, because he was too brave to be untrue to his Lord, and then in a few words made them all see that still some conflict was being waged, and that there was still opportunity for each to display loyal courage and fidelity. In the prayer that followed the first thing that surprised Ranneled was the absence of the set forms and tones of prayer with which he was familiar. It was all so simple and real. The mother was telling the great father in heaven her cares and anxieties, and the day's needs for them all, sure that he would understand and answer. Everyone was remembered, the absent head of the family and those present, the young man worshipping with them, that he might be a true man and a good soldier of Jesus Christ, and at the close the little lad going away this morning, that he might be kept from all harm and from all evil thoughts and deeds. The simple beauty of the words, the music in the voice, and the tender, trustful feeling that breathed through the prayer, awakened in Ranneled's heart emotions and longings he had never known before, and he rose from his knees feeling how wicked and how cruel a thing it would be to cause one of these little ones to stumble. After the worship was over, Huey seized his scotch bonnet and rushed for the jumper, and in a few minutes his mother had all the space not taken up by him and Ranneled packed with blankets and baskets. Jesse thinks that even great shanty men like you and Don and Huey will not object to something better than bread and pork. Indeed, we will not, said Ranneled heartily. Then Huey suddenly remembered that he was actually leaving home and climbing out of the jumper he rushed at his mother. Oh mother, goodbye! he cried. His mother stooped and put her arms about him. Goodbye, my darling, she said in a low voice, I trust you to be a good boy, and Huey, don't forget your prayers. Then came to Huey for the first time the thought that had been in the mother's heart all the morning, that when night came he would lie down to sleep for the first time in his life without the nightly story and her good night kiss. Mother, whispered the little lad holding her tight about the neck, won't you come to? I don't think I like to go away. He could have said no more comforting word, and the mother whose heart had been sore enough with her first parting from her boy was more than glad to find that the pain was not all on her side. So she kissed him again and said in a cheery voice, Now have a good time, don't trouble Rannel too much and bring me back some sugar. Her last word braced the lad as nothing else could. Oh mother, I'll bring you heaps, he cried, and with the vision of what he would bring home again shining vividly before his eyes, he got through the parting without tears and was soon speeding down the lane beside Rannel in the jumper. The mother stood and watched the little figure holding tight to Rannel with one hand and with the other waving frantically his bonnet by the tails till at last the bush hid him from her sight. Then she turned back again to the house that seemed so empty, with her hand pressed hard against her side and her lip quivering as with sharp pain. How foolish, she said impatiently to herself, he will be home in two days. But in spite of herself she went again to the door and looked long at the spot where the bush swallowed up the road. Then she went upstairs and shut her door, and when she came down again there was that in her face that told that her heart had had its first touch of the sword that sooner or later must pierce all mother's hearts. Before Huey came back from the sugar camp the minister had returned from the Presbytery bringing with him his wife's niece, Mamie Sinclair, who had come from her home in a western city to meet him. Her father, Eugene Sinclair, was president of Raymond and Sinclair Lumber Company. Nineteen years before this time he had married Mrs. Murray's eldest sister and established his home with every prospect of a prosperous and happy life. But after three short, bright years of almost perfect joy, his young wife, his heart's idle, after two days' illness fluttered out from her beautiful home, leaving with her broken-hearted husband her little boy and a baby girl two weeks old. Then Eugene Sinclair besought his sister to come out from England and preside over his home and care for his children, and that he might forget his grief, he gave himself heart and mind to his business. Wealth came to him, and under his sister's rule his home became a place of cultured elegance and a center of fashionable pleasure. Miss Frances Sinclair was a woman of the world, proud of her family tree, whose root disappeared in the depths of past centuries and devoted to the pursuit and cultivation of those graces and manners that are supposed to distinguish people of birth and breeding from the common sort. Indeed, from common man-hand things, she shrank almost with horror. The entrance of trade into the social sphere of her life she would regard as an impertinent intrusion. It was as much as she could bear to allow the approach of commerce which her brother represented. She supposed, of course, there must be people to carry on the trades and industries of the country, very worthy people too, but these were people one could not be expected to know. Miss Sinclair thanked heaven that she had had the advantages of an English education and upbringing, and she lamented the stubborn democratic opinions of her brother, who insisted that Harry should attend the public school. She was not surprised, therefore, though greatly grieved, that Harry chose his friends in school with a fine disregard of their people. It was with surprise amounting to pain that she found herself one day introduced by her nephew to Billy Barclay, who turned out to be the son of Harry's favorite confectioner. To his answer-monstrance it seemed to Harry a sufficient reply that Billy was a brick and a shining quarter on the school rugby team. But Harry, think of his people, urged his aunt. Oh, rot! replied her irreverent nephew. I don't play with his people. Yes, but Harry, you don't expect to make him your friend. But he is my friend, and I don't care what his people are. Besides, I think his governor is a fine old boy, and I know he gives us jolly good taffy. But Harry answered his aunt in despair. You were positively dreadful. Why can't you make friends in your own set? There's Hubert Evans and the Langford boys. Evans snorted Harry with contempt, beastly snob, and the Langfords are regular mollies. Whereupon Miss Sinclair gave up her nephew as impossible. But Billy did not repeat his visit to his friend Harry's home. Miss Frances Sinclair had a way of looking through her pence-nay that even a boy could understand and would seek to avoid. With Mimi, Miss Sinclair achieved better results. She was a gentle girl, with an affectionate yielding disposition, tending towards indolence and self-indulgence. Her aunt's chief concern about her was that she should be frocked and mannered as became her position. Her education was committed to a very select young lady's school where only the daughters of the first families ever entered. What or how they were taught, her aunt never inquired. She felt quite sure that the lady principal would resent as indeed she ought any such inquiry. Hence Mimi came to have a smattering of the English poets, could talk in conversation-book French, and could dash off most of the notes of a few waltzes and marches from the best composers, her pièce de résistance however being la prière d'un vierge. She carried with her from school a portfolio of crayons of apparently very ancient and very battered castles and watercolors of landscapes where the water was quite as solid as the land. True, she was quite unable to keep her own small accounts, and when her father chanced to ask her one day to do for him a simple addition, he was amazed to find that only after the third attempt did she get it right. But in the eyes of her aunt these were quite unimportant deficiencies, and for young ladies she was not sure but that the keeping of accounts and the adding of figures were almost vulgar accomplishments. Her father thought otherwise, but he was a busy man, and besides he shrank from entering into a region strange to him but where his sister moved with assured tread. He contented himself with gratifying his daughter's fancies and indulging her in every way allowed him by her system of training and education. The main marvel in the result was that the girl did not grow more selfish, superficial, and ignorant than she did. Something in her blood helped her, but more it was her aunt's touch upon her life. For every week a letter came from the country manse bringing with it some of the sweet simplicity of the country and something like a breath of heaven. She was nearing her fifteenth birthday, and though almost every letter brought an invitation to visit the manse in the backwoods, it was only when the girl's pale cheek and languid air awakened her father's anxiety that she was allowed to accept the invitation to spend some weeks in the country. When Ronald and Huey drove up to the manse on Saturday evening in the jumper, the whole household rushed forth to see them. They were worth seeing, burned black with the sun and the march winds, they would have easily passed for young Indians. Huey's clothes were a melancholy and fluttering ruin, and while Ronald's stout home-spun smock and trousers had successfully defied the bush, his dark face and unkempt hair, his rough dress and heavy shanty boots, made him appear, to Mimi's eyes, an uncouth, if not pitiable, object. Home-mother! cried Huey, throwing himself upon her, I'm home again, and we've had a splendid time, and we made heaps of sugar, and I've brought you a whole lot. He drew out of his pockets three or four cakes of maple sugar. There is one for each, he said, handing them to his mother. Here, Huey, she replied, speak to your cousin Mamie. Huey went up shyly to his cousin and offered a grimy hand. Mamie, looking at the ragged little figure, could hardly hide her disgust as she took the dirty, sticky little hand very gingerly in her fingers. But Huey was determined to do his duty to the full, even though Ronald was present, and shaking his cousin's hand with great heartiness, he held up his face to be kissed. He was much surprised and not a little relieved when Mamie refused to notice his offer and turned to look at Ronald. She found him scanning her with a straight, searching look as if seeking to discover of what sort she was. She felt he had noticed her shrinking from Huey and was annoyed to find herself blushing under his keen gaze. But when Mrs. Murray presented Ronald to her niece, it was his turn to blush and feel awkward, as he came forward with a triangular sort of movement and offered his hand, saying, with an access of his highland accent, it is a fine day, Mam. It required all Mamie's good manners to keep back the laugh that fluttered upon her lips. Slight as it was, Ronald noticed the smile, and turning from her abruptly to Mrs. Murray, said, we were thinking that Friday would be a good day for the sugaring off if that will do you. Quite well, Ronald, said the minister's wife, and it is very good of you to have us. She too had noted Mamie's smile, and seeing the dark flush on Ronald's cheek, she knew well what it meant. Come and sit down a little, Ronald, she said kindly. I have got some books here for you and Don to read. But Ronald would not sit nor would he wait a moment. Thank you, Mam, he said, but I will need to be going. Wait, Ronald, a moment! cried Mrs. Murray. She ran into the next room and in a few moments returned with two or three books and some magazines. These, she said, handing him the books, are some of Walter Scott's. They will be good for weekdays, and these, giving him the magazines, you can read after church on Sabbath. The boy's eyes lighted up as he thanked Mrs. Murray, and he shook hands with her very warmly. Then with a bow to the company, and without looking at Mamie again, he left the room with Huey following at his heels. In a short time Huey came back full of enthusiastic praise of his hero. Oh, mother, he cried, he is awful smart. He can do just anything. He can make a splendid bed of balsam brush and porridge and pancakes and, and, and everything. A bed of balsam brush and porridge. What a wonderful boy he must be, Huey, said Mamie, teasing him. But isn't he just a little queer? He's not a bit queer, said Huey stoutly. He is the best, best boy in all the world. Indeed, how extraordinary, said Mamie. He wouldn't think so to look at him. I think he's just splendid, said Huey, don't you, mother? Indeed, he has very brown whatever, mocked Mamie, mimicking Rannell's highland tongue, a trick at which she was very clever, and not just very clean. You're just a mean, mean, red-headed snip, cried Huey in a rage, and I don't like you one bit. But Mamie was proud of her golden hair, so Huey's shot fell harmless. And when will you be going to the sugaring off, Mistress Murray, went on Mamie, mimicking Rannell so cleverly that, in spite of herself, Mrs. Murray smiled? It was his mother's smile that perfected Huey's fury. Without a word of threat or warning he seized a dipper of water and threw it over Mamie, soaking her pretty ribbons and collar, and was promptly sent upstairs to repent. Poor Huey, said his mother after he had disappeared, Rannell is his hero, and he cannot bear any criticism of him. He doesn't look much of a hero, auntie, said Mamie, drying her face and curls. Very few heroes do, said her aunt quietly. Rannell has noble qualities, but he has had very few advantages. Then Mrs. Murray told her niece how Rannell had put himself between her and the pursuing wolves. Mamie's blue eyes were wide with horror. But auntie, she cried, why in the world do you go to such places? What places, Mamie, said the minister who had come into the room? Why those awful places where the wolves are? Indeed you may ask why, said the minister gravely. He had heard the story from his wife the night before, but it would need a man to be on guard day and night to keep your aunt from those places. Yes, and your uncle too, said Mrs. Murray shaking her head at her husband. You see, Mamie, we live in those places, and after all they are as safe as Annie. We are in good keeping. And was Huey out all night with those two boys in those woods, auntie? Oh, there was no danger. The wolves will not come near a fire, and the boys have their dogs and guns, said Mrs. Murray. Besides, Rannell is to be trusted. Trusted, said the minister, indeed I would not trust him too far. He is just wild enough, like his father before him. Oh, Papa, you don't know Rannell, said his wife warmly, nor his father either for that matter. I never did till this last week. They have kept aloof from everything, and really— And whose fault is that? interrupted the minister. Why should they keep aloof from the means of grace? They are a godless lot, that's what they are. The minister's indignation was rising. But my dear, persisted Mrs. Murray, I believe if they had a chance. Chance, exclaimed the minister, what more chance do they want? Have they not all that other people have? MacDonald do is rarely seen at the services on the Lord's Day, and as for Rannell, he comes and goes at his own sweet will. Let us hope, said his wife gently, they will improve. I believe Rannell would come to Bible-class where he not so shy. Shy, laughed the minister scornfully. He is not too shy to stand up on the table before a hundred men after a logging and dance the highland fling, and beautifully he does it too, he added. But for all that, said his wife, he is very shy. I don't like shy people, said Mamie. They are so awkward and dreadful to do with. Well, said her aunt quietly, I rather like people who are not too sure of themselves, and I think all the more of Rannell for his shyness and modesty. Oh, Rannell's modesty won't disable him, said the minister. For my part, I think he is a daring young rascal, and indeed, if there is any mischief going in the countryside, you may be sure Rannell is not far away. Oh, Papa, I don't think Rannell is a bad boy, said his wife almost pleadingly. Bad, I'm sure I don't know what you call it. Who let off the dam last year so that the sawmill could not run for a week? Who abused poor Duncie McBain so that he was carried home groaning? Duncie McBain exclaimed his wife contemptuously. Great big soft lump that he is. Why, he's a man as big as ever he'll be. Who broke the little church windows till there wasn't a pain left pursued the minister unheeding his wife's interruption? It wasn't Rannell that broke the church windows, Papa, piped Huey from above. How do you know, sir, who did it then? demanded his father. It wasn't Rannell, anyway, said Huey stoutly. Who was it then? Tell me that, said his father again. Huey, go to your room and stay there, as I told you, said his mother, fearing an investigation into the window-breaking episode, of which Huey had made full confession to her, as his own particular achievement, in revenge for a broken window in the new church. I think, continued Mr. Murray, as if closing the discussion, you'll find that your Rannell is not the modest, shy, gentle young man you think him to be, but a particularly bold young rascal. Poor Rannell, sighed his wife, he has no mother, and his father has just let him grow up wild. Aye, that's true enough, assented her husband, passing into his study. But he could have adopted no better means of awakening Mamie's interest in Rannell than by the recital of his various escapades. Women love good men, but are interested in men whose goodness is more or less impaired. So Mamie was determined that she would know more of Rannell, and hence took every opportunity of encouraging Huey to sing the praises of his hero and recount his many adventures. She was glad too that her aunt had fixed the sugaring off for a time when she could be present, but neither at church on Sunday nor during the week that followed did she catch sight of his face, and though Huey came in with excited reports now and then of having seen or heard of Rannell, Mamie had to content herself with these, and indeed were it not that the invitation had already been given and the day fixed for her visit to the camp, the chances are that Mamie's acquaintance with Rannell would have ended where it began, in which case both had been saved many bitter days. THE SUGAR TIME IS, IN MANY WAYS, THE BEST OF ALL THE YEAR. It is the time of crisp mornings when the crust bears, and the boys go crunching all over the fields and through the woods, the time too of sunny noons and chilly nights. Winter is still near, but he has lost most of his grip and all his terror. For the earth has heard the call of spring from afar and knows that soon she will be seen dancing her shy dances in the sunny spaces of the leafless woods. Then by and by from all the open fields the snow is driven back into the fence corners and lies there in soiled and sullen heaps. In the woods it still lies deep, but there is everywhere the tinkle of running water, and it is not long till the brown leaf carpet begins to show in patches through the white. Then overhead the buds begin to swell and thrill with the new life, and when it is broad noon all through the woods a thousand voices pass the glad word that winter's day is gone and that all living things are free. But when night draws up over the treetops and the shadows steal down the forest aisles, the jubilant voices die down and a chill fear creeps over all the gleeful swelling buds that they have been too sure and too happy, and all the more if from the northeast their sweeps down as often happens a stinging storm of sleet and snow winter's last savage slap. But what matters that, the very next day when the bright warm rays trickle down through the interlacing branches, bathing the buds and twigs and limbs and trunks and flooding all the woods the world grows sureer of its new joy, and so in alternating hope and fear the days and nights go by till an evening falls when the air is languid and a soft rain comes up from the south falling all night long over the buds and trees like warm loving fingers. Then the buds break for very joy and timid green things push up through the leaf mold and from the swamps the little frogs begin to pipe at first in solo but soon in exultant chorus till the whole moist night is vocal and then everyone knows that the sugar time is over and troughs and spiles are gathered up and with sap barrels and kettles are stored in the back shed for another year but no rain came before the night fixed for the sugaring off it was a perfect sugar day warm bright and still following a night of sharp frost the long sunny afternoon was deepening into twilight when the Camerons drove up to the sugar camp in their big sleigh bringing with them the man's party. Ranald and Dawn with Aunt Kirsty were there to receive them it was one of those rare evenings of the early Canadian spring the bear woods were filled with the tangled rays of light from the setting sun here and there a hillside facing the east lay in shadow that grew black where the balsams and cedars stood in clumps but everywhere else the light fell sweet and silent about the bear trunks filling the long avenues under the arching maple limbs with a yellow haze in front of the shanty the kettles hung over the fire on a long pole which stood in an upright crutch at either end under the big kettle the fire was roaring high for the fresh sap needed much boiling before the syrup and taffy would come but under the little kettle the fire burned low for that must not be hurried over the fire in the kettles ranald presided black grimy and silent and to dawn fell the duty of doing the honors of the camp and right worthily did he do his part he greeted his mother with reverence cuffed his young brother kissed his little sister Jenny tossing her high and welcomed with warm heartiness mrs. Murray and her niece the airds had not yet come but all the rest were there the finley sins and the macarachers dan Campbell's boys and their sister Betsy whom everyone called Betsy Dan redheaded freckled and irrepressible the McGregors and a dozen or more of the wildest youngsters that could be found in all the indian lands depositing their baskets in the shanty for they had no thought of fasting they crowded about the fire attention cried dawn who had a gift of the gab as his mother said ladies and gentlemen the program for this evening is as follows games tea and taffy in the order mentioned in the first all must take part in the second all may take part but in the third none need take part after the laughter and the chorus of all whose heads subsided dawn proceeded the captains for the evening are Elizabeth Campbell better known as Betsy Dan and John Finlayson familiar to us all as Johnny the widow two young people of excellent character and I believe slightly known to each other again a shout went up from the company but Betsy Dan who cared not at all for dawn's banter contented herself with pushing out her lower lip at him with scorn in that indescribable manner natural to girls but two boys impossible then the choosing began Betsy Dan claiming first choice by virtue of her sacks immediately called out randall mcdonald but randall shook his head I cannot leave the fire he said blushing take dawn there but Betsy demerred I don't want dawn she cried come on randall the fire will do quite well Betsy as indeed did most of the school girls adored randall in her secret heart though she scorned to show it but randall's still refused till dawn said it's too bad Betsy but you'll have to take me oh come on then laughed Betsy you will be better than nobody then it was Johnny the widow's choice Mamie Sinclair Mamie hesitated and looked at her aunt who said yes go my dear if you would like Margaret aired cried Betsy spying Margaret and her brothers coming down the road come along Margaret you're on my side on dawn's side I mean at which poor Margaret a tall fair girl with sweet face and shy manner blushed furiously but after greeting the minister's wife and the rest of the older people she took her place beside dawn the choosing went on till everyone present was taken not even Aunt Kirstie being allowed to remain neutral in the coming games for an hour the sports went on racing jumping bear london bridge crack the whip and lastly forfeits meantime randall super intended the sap boiling keeping on the opposite side of the fire from the ladies and answering in mono syllables any questions addressed to him but when it was time to make the tea Mrs Cameron and Kirstie insisted on taking charge of this and mrs murray coming round to randall said now randall I came to learn all about sugar making and while the others are making tea I want you to teach me how to make sugar randall gladly agreed to show her all he knew he had been feeling awkward and miserable in the noisy crowd but especially in the presence of Mamie he had not forgotten the smile of the amusement with which she had greeted him at the man's and his wounded pride longed for an opportunity to pour upon her the vials of his contempt but somehow in her presence contempt would not arise within him and he was driven into wretched silence and self abasement it was therefore with peculiar gratitude that he turned to mrs murray as to one who both understood and trusted him I thank you for the books mrs murray he began in a low hurried voice they are just wonderful that rob broy and Ivanhoe all they are the grand books his face was fairly blazing with enthusiasm I never knew there were such books at all I'm very glad you like them randall said mrs murray in tones of warm sympathy and I shall give you as many as you like I cannot thank you enough I have not the words said the boy looking as if you might fall down at her feet mrs murray was greatly touched both by his enthusiasm and his gratitude it is a great pleasure to me randall that you like them she said earnestly I want you to love good books and good men and noble deeds randall stood listening in silence then someday you will be a good and great man yourself she added and you will do some noble work the boy stood looking far away into the woods his black eyes filled with a mysterious fire suddenly he threw back his head and said as if he had forgotten mrs murray's presence yes someday I will be a great man I know it well and good softly added mrs murray he turned and looked at her a moment as if in a dream then recalling himself he answered I suppose that is the best yes it is the best randall she replied no man is great who is not good but come now and give me my lesson randall stepped out into the bush and from a tree nearby he lifted a trough of sap and emptied it into the big kettle that's the first thing you do with the sap he said oh carry every trough to the kettle oh I see laughed randall you must have every step yes indeed she replied with determination well here it is he seized a bucket went to another tree emptied the sap from the trough into the bucket and thence into the barrel and from the barrel into the big kettle then from the big kettle into the little one he said catching up a big dipper tied to a long pole and transferring the boiling sap as he spoke from one kettle to another but how can you tell when it is ready asked mrs murray only by tasting when it is very sweet it must go into the little kettle and then her eager determination to know all the details delighted him beyond measure then you must be very careful indeed or you will lose all your day's work and your sugar besides for it is very easy to burn but how can you tell when it is ready or you must just keep tasting every few minutes till you think you have the syrup and then for the sugar you must just boil it a little longer well said mrs murray when it is ready what do you do then he said you must quickly knock the fire from under it and pour it into the pans stirring it till it gets nearly cool and why do you stir it she asked oh to keep it from getting too hard now i have learned something i never knew before said the minister's wife delightedly and i'm very grateful to you we must help each other randald indeed it is little i can do for you he said shyly you do not know how much i'm going to ask you to do she said delightly wait and see at that moment a series of shrieks rose high above the shouting and laughter of the games and mamie came flying down toward the camp pursued by don with the others following oh auntie she panted he's going to going to she paused with cheeks burning it's forfeits mrs murray explained don hoot lassie said mrs cameron it will not much hurt you anyway they that kiss in the light will not kiss in the dark she played and lost her forfeit said don unwilling to be jeered at by the others for faint heartedness she ought to pay i'm afraid don she does not understand our ways said mrs murray apologetically be off don said his mother kiss market there if you can it will not hurt her and leave the young lady alone it's just horrid of them auntie said mamie indignantly as the others went back to their games indeed said mrs cameron warmly if you will never do worse than kiss a laddie in a game its little harm will be coming to you but mamie ignored her is it not horrid auntie she said well my dear if you think so it is but not for these girls who play the game with never a thought of impropriety and with no shock to their modesty much depends on how you think about these things but mamie was not satisfied she was indignant at don for offering to kiss her but as she stood and watched the games going on under the trees the tag the chase the catch and the kiss she somehow began to feel as if it were not so terrible after all and to think that perhaps these girls might play the game and still be nice enough but she had no thought of going back to them and so she turned her attention to the preparations for tea now almost complete her aunt and randald were toasting slices of bread at the big blazing fire on forks made out of long switches let me try auntie she said pushing up to the fire between her aunt and randald i'm sure i can do that be careful of that fire said randald sharply pulling back her skirt that had blown dangerously near the blaze stand back further he commanded mamie looked at him surprise indignation and fear struggling for the mastery was this the awkward boy that had blushed and stammered before her a week ago it's very dangerous he explained to mrs murray the wind blows out the flames as he spoke he handed mamie his toasting stick and retired to the other side of the fire and began to attend to the boiling sap he didn't be such a bear pouted mamie my dear replied her aunt what randald says is quite true you cannot be too careful in moving about the fire well he didn't be so cross about it said mamie she had never been ordered about before in her life and she did not enjoy the experience and all the more at the hands of an uncouth country boy she watched randald attending to the fire and the kettles however with a new respect he certainly had no fear of the fire but moved about it and handled it with the utmost sang foie he had a certain grace too in his movements that caught her eye and she wished he would come nearer so that she could speak to him she had considerable confidence in her powers of attraction as if to answer her wish randald came straight to where her aunt and she were standing i think it will be time for tea now he said with a sudden return of his awkward manner that made mamie wonder why she had ever been afraid of him i will tell don he added striding off toward the group of boys and girls still busy with their games under the trees soon don's shout was heard tea ladies and gentlemen take your seats at the tables and speedily there was a rush and scramble and in a few moments the great heaps of green balsam boughs arranged around the fire were full of boys and girls pulling pinching and tumbling over one another in wild glee the toast stood in brown heaps on birch bark plates beside the fire and baskets were carried out of the shanty bulging with cakes the tea was bubbling in the big tin tea pail and everything was ready for the feast but randald had caught mrs murray's eye and at a sign from her stood waiting with the tea pail in his hand come on with the tea randald cried don seizing a plate of toast wait a minute don said randald in a low tone what's the matter but randald stood still looking silently at the minister's wife then as all eyes turned toward her she said in a gentle sweet voice i think we ought to give thanks to our father in heaven for all this beauty about us and for all our joy at once randald took off his hat and as the boys followed his example mrs murray bowed her head and in a few simple words lifted up the hearts of all with her own in thanksgiving for the beauty of the woods and sky above them and all the many gifts that came to fill their lives with joy it was not the first time that randald had heard her voice in prayer but somehow it sounded different in the open air under the trees and in the midst of all the jollity of the sugaring off with all other people that randald knew religion seemed to be something apart from common days common people and common things and seemed besides a solemn and terrible experience but with the minister's wife religion was a part of her everyday living and seemed to be as easily associated with her pleasure as with anything else about her it was so easy so simple so natural that randald could not help wondering if after all it was the right kind it was so unlike the religion of the elders and all the good people in the congregation it was a great puzzle to randald has too many others both before and since his time after tea was over the great business of the evening came on randald announced that the taffy was ready and dawn as master of ceremonies immediately cried out the gentleman will provide the ladies with plates plates echoed the boys with a laugh of derision plates repeated dawn stepping back to a great snow bank near a balsam clump and returning with a piece of crust at once there was a scurry to the snow bank and soon everyone had a snow plate ready then randald and dawn slid the little kettle along the pole off the fire and with tin dippers began to pour the hot syrup upon the snow plates where it immediately hardened into taffy then the pulling began what fun there was what larks what shrieks what romping and tumbling till all were heartily tired both of the taffy and the fun then followed the sugar molding the little kettle was set back on the fire and kept carefully stirred while tin dishes of all sorts shapes and sizes milk pans patty pans mugs and cups well greased with pork rind were set out in order embedded in snow the last act of all was the making of hens nests a dozen or so of hens eggs blown empty and three goose eggs for the grown-ups were set in snow nests and carefully filled from the little kettle in a few minutes the nests were filled with sugar eggs and the sugaring off was over there remained still a goose egg provided against any mishap who wants the goose egg cried dawn holding it up me me me coast the girls on every side will you give it to me dawn for the minister said mrs. Murray oh yes cried me me and let me fill it as she spoke she seized the dipper and ran for the kettle look out for that fire cried dawn dropping the egg into its snowbed he was too late a little tongue of flame leaped out from under the kettle nipped hold of her frock and in a moment she was in a blaze with a wild scream she sprang back and turned to fly but before she had gone more than a single step randled dashing the crowd right and left had seized and flung her headlong into the snow beating out the flames with his bare hands in a moment all danger was over and randle lifted her up still screaming she clung to him while the women all ran to her her aunt reached her first hush may me hush dear you are quite safe now let me see your face there now be quiet child the danger is all over still may me kept screaming she was thoroughly terrified listen to me her aunt said in an even firm voice do not be foolish let me look at you the quiet firm voice soothed her and may me screams ceased her aunt examined her face neck and arms for any signs of fire but could find none she was hardly touched so swift had been her rescue then mrs. Murray suddenly putting her arms round about her niece and holding her tight cried thank god my darling for his great kindness to you and to us all thank god thank god her voice broke but in a moment recovering herself she went on and randle too noble fellow randle was standing at the back of the crowd looking pale disturbed and awkward mrs. Murray knowing how hateful to him would be any demonstrations of feeling went to him and quietly held out her hand saying it was bravely done randle from my heart I thank you for a moment or two she looked steadily into his face with tears streaming down her cheeks then putting her hands upon his shoulders she said softly for her dear dead mother's sake I thank you then may me who had been standing in a kind of stupor all this while seemed suddenly to awake and running swiftly toward randle she put out both hands crying oh randle I can never thank you enough he took her hands in an agony of embarrassment not knowing what to do or say then Mimi suddenly dropped his hands and throwing her arms about his neck kissed him and ran back to her aunt's side I thought you didn't play forfeits Mimi said dawn in a grieved voice and everyone was glad to laugh then the minister's wife looking round upon them all said dear children God has been very good to us and I think we ought to give him thanks and standing there by the fire they bowed their heads in a new thanksgiving to him whose keeping never fails by day or night and then with hearts and voices subdued and with quiet good nights they went their ways home but as the camera and sleigh drove off with its load Mimi looked back and seeing randle standing by the fire she whispered to her aunt oh auntie isn't he just splendid but her aunt made no reply seeing a new danger for them both greater than that they had escaped end of chapter eight