Georgie\'s Present
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Miss Brightwell >> Georgie\'s Present
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GEORGIE'S PRESENT; OR TALES OF NEWFOUNDLAND.
BY MISS BRIGHTWELL
_Author of "Annals of Industry and Genius," etc. etc._ [Blank Page]
Contents.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
GEORGIE'S PRESENT;
OR,
TALES OF NEWFOUNDLAND.
CHAPTER I.
It was a beautiful May-day morning when George Green rose at an early
hour; for it was his birthday, and he had not been able to sleep so long
as usual, for counting of the joyful anniversary.
"Ten years old, are you indeed, my boy?" said his father, who found
Master George eagerly awaiting him in the breakfast parlour. "Yes, papa;
and I am to have a whole holiday, and mamma has promised to take me to
spend the afternoon at Aunt Baker's, and--but I must not tell you that
now, for it is a secret!"
[Illustration]
The afternoon visit was evidently the great treat in George's esteem;
and pleased indeed did he look, as he started with his mother for the
Parsonage-house in which his aunt lived. Mrs. Baker was the daughter
of Mr. Ward, an excellent clergyman, who had for several years been a
missionary in Newfoundland. After his death, his widow and daughter
returned to England, and found a home in the country village where some
of their family lived, and where Maria Ward soon married the clergyman
of the parish, her widowed mother consenting to become one of her
household.
Mrs. Ward was a charming old lady, lively and intelligent, and full of
goodness. Her heart seemed always overflowing with love, and though no
longer able to labour in the missionary field as she had done in the
days of her early womanhood, she was at heart a missionary still,
regarding with delight the progress of that great and glorious
cause--the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom upon earth.
On the afternoon of the fair May-day, when little George and his mother
paid their visit to the Parsonage, Mrs. Ward was sitting in her best bib
and tucker, prepared to do honour to the occasion. Close by her side,
upon the hearth, lay a splendid Newfoundland dog, which every now and
then looked up at her with affectionate eyes that seemed to say, "How
much I love you."
"Ah, Boxa!" said the old lady, fondly caressing the head of the animal,
"I don't know what you'll say to me I have actually given away one of
your pups: at all events, I have promised it, which is the same thing."
At that moment Master George popped his merry face in at the open
window, and greeted Mrs. Ward with a shout of joyous laughter. "Dear
Granny, you didn't know you were talking aloud; and how indeed were you
to guess that I was so close at hand to overhear you? Ah! how glad I am
that you mean really to let me have the beautiful pup. I have chosen a
name for it already: it shall be called Newfy, because its mother came
from Newfoundland."
"Its grandmother you should say, my dear," replied Mrs. Ward; "Boxa's
mother came over with me from Newfoundland, and a wonderful animal she
was for cleverness and beauty; but after all, she could not compare with
dear old Box, her sire. He was a marvel of sagacity, and did feats which
I really believe have never been surpassed."
While the old lady was speaking, her grandson had jumped in at the
window, and was standing beside her, eagerly listening.
"You know, dear grandmamma," he said, "this is my birthday, and I have
come to spend half of it with you and aunt; and, first, we are to have a
walk, then to take tea together, and, to finish up, you will tell me all
about Newfoundland and what you have seen there, ending with the history
of the wonderful dog."
"Stay, stay, my love," said Mrs. Ward; "it is impossible that I should
tell you all I have seen in Newfoundland. I can, however, give you an
account of some of your dear grandfather's missionary journeys, in which
he met with many adventures, and, at the close of one trip, fell in with
the good man to whom the wonderful dog Box belonged."
"That's just what I should like," said George; and immediately he
hastened to find his grandmother's bonnet and shawl, in which she was
quickly arrayed for the walk. [Illustration]
It was a bright sunshiny afternoon, and as the little party strolled
through the village street, they found half the women and children of
the place, sitting in the doorways, or playing about on the roadside.
By-and-by they came to the green, where there was a crowd of boys just
turned out of school, a large knot of them clustering round a little
Italian boy, who had found his way to the village with his hurdy-gurdy,
upon which he was playing, while, tied to a string, he carried a little
monkey, perched upon his shoulder. George was eager to join the group
and see the antics of Jacko, who sat grinning and holding a little
cap for money, into which a boy flung a halfpenny, and then asked the
Italian where he came from. But the answer was unintelligible to him,
for it was given in a strange tongue, and George was soon tired of
listening to the music and watching the monkey.
In the meantime his grandmother had walked on, accompanied by her
daughter, and they were now slowly crossing the common. A few minutes'
brisk run brought George to their side, when he began chatting about the
boy and his monkey.
"I have no liking for those animals," said Mrs. Ward; "indeed, the very
sight of a monkey makes me shudder with a feeling of aversion. I once
saw a trick played by one of them which made a lasting impression upon
my mind."
"Tell me about it, dear grandma," said George, "while you rest for a
while under this warm hedge upon your camp-stool which I have brought
for you."
"Well," she said, seating herself at her grandson's request, "it is a
strange story, but quite true. It happened many long years ago, when I
was a young married woman, voyaging to Newfoundland, in the good ship
_Sarah Ann_, with your grandfather, who was then starting for the
missionary station to which he had been appointed. We were drawing near
to land; and after a long and weary voyage, you may imagine how eagerly
all eyes were strained to catch the first sight of the yet distant
shore.
"Among the passengers was one young lady, a sweet, gentle creature,
who quite won my heart by her winning manners. She had with her her
first-born child, an infant at the breast, and was going to Quebec to
join her husband, a military man there. She had come with the rest of us
on deck when the glad summons was heard, 'Land in sight!' and was seated
upon a sofa, with the child in her lap. The captain very politely handed
his glass to the ladies who stood near him, and directed them how to
catch a glimpse of the shore, which they were just able to discern.
When they had all had a peep, he turned to the young lady whom I have
mentioned, and asked if she would like to look. She thanked him, and
rose for the purpose, first cautiously laying her sleeping baby upon the
sofa. She then advanced a few steps, and took the glass he presented to
her; but scarcely had she raised it to her eye when a shout was heard
from one of the sailors--'Stop him! stop the monkey; he's got the
child!' Every eye was turned in the direction to which the man pointed;
and there we saw the ship's monkey, a favourite animal with the sailors,
of which they made a great pet, climbing up a rope which he held in one
hand, while with the other he hugged close to him the helpless infant!
Up, up, to a towering height the wretched brute climbed, while we
followed him with our eyes in breathless alarm. Suddenly a loud scream
was heard: it was the voice of the poor agonized mother, who would have
fallen senseless to the ground, had not one of the gentlemen caught her
in his arms. She was carried down in a state of unconsciousness to the
cabin, and left to the care of the stewardess."
[Illustration: desc. Ship's rigging in night storm]
"No one on deck had moved an inch. Indeed, they scarcely seemed to
breathe, so intense was the excitement felt in watching the movements of
the animal. Presently, a faint cry was heard,--the child was evidently
frightened; perhaps hurt by the pressure of the brute's arm. At once the
monkey paused: he seemed to perceive there was something amiss; for,
taking his station in some part of the rigging, he tried to act the part
of nurse, rocking the baby to and fro, and patting its back. In the
meantime the captain was at his wits' end to know what course was the
best to pursue. At first he ordered one or two of the men to go aloft in
pursuit. But this only increased the evil, for the animal, seeing itself
chased, hastened to climb a still higher spar; and the terrible fear
was suggested that, if driven too closely, he might drop his precious
burden, in order thus to secure the use of both his arms."
"Oh, grandmamma, how shocking!" cried George, his interest evidently
reaching a climax at this point of the tale.
"Shocking indeed," said Mrs. Ward; "the very idea was enough to make
one's blood run cold. What was to be done? There was, happily, present a
very experienced old seaman, who now ventured to suggest a plan which he
thought might possibly turn out successful: at all events, as he said,
it could do no harm. His advice was, that everybody should be ordered to
quit the deck, sailors and all, so that not a creature should be visible
on board. The few men whose presence was necessary to manage the ship
were alone suffered to remain at their post, and they were directed to
keep quiet, and to conceal themselves as much as possible from view of
the monkey. The captain determined to try this scheme, and his orders
were immediately obeyed. We all hastened down accordingly, and waited
the issue in suspense. For some minutes a profound silence reigned.
By-and-by the captain, who had placed himself at a point where he could
watch unseen what was going forward, announced that the monkey was
descending cautiously from his perch. By his actions it seemed as though
the creature felt at a loss to account for the unwonted solitude on
deck. His curiosity was awakened, and he must needs come down and see
what it meant.
"Slowly and cautiously he slipped from yardarm to yardarm, approaching
nearer and nearer to the deck; at last he reached it, still carrying the
child with a firm grasp. In a moment he was seized by two lusty sailors
who were lying in wait behind a coil of rope; and the precious freight
he carried was borne in triumph down to the cabin. What a scene it was!
The poor mother was just recovering from the long death-like swoon in
which she had lain, when the infant was placed in her arms, perfectly
uninjured, although cold, and its little face blanched as if with
terror. At first it seemed as though the sudden revulsion of feeling was
too much for her, and she appeared about to sink once more into a state
of insensibility; but the next moment, feeling the little creature
nestling close to her bosom, she clasped it to her, while the tears
trickled down her cheeks."
"I wonder whether they punished the monkey for playing such a trick,"
said George. "I really think, my dear," said Mrs. Ward, "that the
mischievous brute escaped the flogging which he richly deserved: one
thing is certain, he never had the chance of playing nurse to Mrs. Ray's
baby again."
[Illustration]
CHAPTER II.
The rays of the evening sun were now sinking beneath the horizon,
shedding a golden glory over the landscape, and speaking in fair promise
of a fine day on the morrow. "It is time we went home again, before the
dews begin to fall," said Mrs. Ward, as she rose from her seat; and
then, pointing to the western sky, she added: "How beautiful!--'These
are thy glorious works, Parent of good. Let us praise God, whose glory
is shown in the works of His hands; for day unto day uttereth speech;
night unto night showeth knowledge.' I hope you, my dear George, will
never be one of those who have eyes that see not, and ears that cannot
hear. Your dear grandfather was only a little boy when he began to think
of the great things of another world, and at the age of fifteen he
solemnly devoted himself to the service of God his Saviour."
"Dear Grandmamma, I should like to know more about him. You promised to
tell me about one of his journeys in Newfoundland; and now here we are,
home again, and tea is set out in readiness, as I can see through the
open window." The little party was soon comfortably seated at the social
meal, when Master George's health was pledged in the cup "that cheers
but not inebriates;" and he regaled himself on choice plum-cake made by
the dear old lady herself for that special occasion, taking care, every
now and then, to break off a bit and throw it to Boxa, who sat by his
side, wagging her tail, in evident expectation of tit-bits.
"Shall we have candles?" asked Mrs. Ward, when the tea-things were
being removed, "or would you like best to sit in the twilight and watch
the rising moon?"
"I vote for twilight and the moon," said George, placing his
grandmother's arm-chair in a cozy nook, from which she could see abroad;
and then, seating himself on the stool at her feet, he waited till she
should begin the promised story.
"It was in the spring of the year, 1835, when your grandfather undertook
a tour of visitation to the southern and western shores of Newfoundland,
for the purpose of ministering to the scattered families in the remote
settlements of that region. He left me at St. John's in the month of
March, as travelling over the snow in the island is considered less
difficult in that month than walking overland is at any other season of
the year. When we parted I knew that he was going on a laborious and
painful journey, but I had formed no idea of the dangers to which he
would be exposed, or my heart would indeed have sunk within me. He
took with him a guide to pilot him through the country; a man who was
reckoned very skilful and experienced, and who had lived some time with
the Micmac Indians, one of the aboriginal tribes. They had not advanced
far on their way when they missed the route, and could only ascertain
the points of the compass by observing the inclination of the topmost
branches of the juniper or larch trees."
"How could they know by that means, grandmamma?"
"Because the juniper or larch always points to the east, thus affording
them a secure indication, by means of which they regained the path some
time after night-fall.
"This was rather a bad start, and as it turned out, seemed ominous of
evil to the travellers. As they proceeded on their way, your grandfather
stopped at various places to preach, administer the sacraments, and
visit the sick; and, in many instances, the poor people received him
gladly, being like sheep scattered without a shepherd in solitary
places, far from the means of grace. In one house which he visited he
was moved with compassion at the sight of the poor ailing mother of the
family. 'Ah sir!' said she, 'if any of us be sick or sore, there is no
one to come near us, or to care for our souls.'
"I doubt not you have often heard the saying, 'One half the world little
knows how the other half lives;' and, indeed, we have but little idea
of the shifts to which thousands of our fellow men are put, and of the
discomforts and troubles of their daily life. These people lived, for
the most part, in wretched cabins, which swarmed with men, women, and
children, while every nook and corner not thus occupied was filled with
pigs, fowls, sheep, or dogs; and the thick smoke, or, as the people
emphatically call it, 'cruel steam,' is most distressing to the
eyesight, which suffers greatly in consequence."
"But, why don't they make chimneys, and let it out grandma?"
"They have a sort of rude chimney constructed of upright planks stuffed
between with moss; but the danger of the fire is great; indeed it is
always a necessary to have buckets of water at hand ready to throw upon
the flames. In some places the chimneys were fortified against this
danger by being lined all the way up with a coating of tin, which is
found to last some years."
"I should be very sorry to have to live with the Newfoundlanders if
they have such houses as these; it seems more like what we read of the
savages in their wigwams."
"Well, George, your grandfather fell in with some of these people, a
party of Indians from Canada; and, as it was late at night when he
reached their wigwams, the guide begged to be allowed to pass the night
with them. This they courteously permitted, and showed every hospitality
to their unexpected guests. It was a curious sight, the whole party,
men, women, and children, lying around the fire in the middle of the
tent, upon spruce boughs, spread like feathers, to form the couch. The
softest and cleanest deer skin was most courteously offered to the
guest, and he passed the night very comfortably, truly thankful for the
accommodation thus afforded him, and without which he must have suffered
greatly from exposure to the weather, for the snow fell fast during
several hours."
At this point of her narrative Mrs. Ward rang for a candle, and desired
the servant to bring her writing desk. "I shall find there," she said,
"the original MS. given me by my dear husband on his return from this
journey. He wrote it amid much difficulty, for very frequently the ink
would freeze in spite of all the precautions he took. Paper, too, was
very scanty, and had it not been for boxes, containing a supply of this
article, which had been washed on shore from different wrecks, he would
have found it impossible to procure enough for the purpose. Anxious,
however, to preserve a diary of each day's proceedings, he persevered to
the best of his power, and the result was this scroll, now discoloured
by age, and some of the leaves a good deal torn, but the hand is clear
and legible throughout. I think you will like to have me read you
a short extract, giving an account of a very dangerous part of his
expedition. But, in the first place, I should mention that, when
travelling into the interior, he was obliged to walk in Indian rackets,
or snow-shoes, a very difficult matter to one unaccustomed to their
use."
"Why difficult, grandma? I thought snow-shoes kept you from slipping,
and made it much easier to walk in winter."
[Illustration]
"The snow-shoes of which I speak, my dear, are very different from
anything you have ever seen; nor could you imagine it possible to travel
in them if you had a pair now before you. The racket is a machine
consisting of a sort of net-work stretched upon ledges made of very hard
wood. They are about two feet and a half long, and fourteen inches
broad; and in the middle is fitted a kind of shoe, lined with wool or
hair, which is tied on to the ankle. By means of these strange snow-
shoes, the feet are prevented from sinking into the soft, deep snow.
Even the Indians, shod in this fashion, occasionally meet with heavy
falls, especially when descending very steep hills; and a foreigner
feels terribly awkward and at a loss when first he attempts to use them.
They are exceedingly fatiguing, too, as they become very heavy when wet;
and the wearer is compelled to walk with long and rapid strides, in
order to prevent the rackets from striking against each other.
Sometimes, when the day's journey was a long one, the faithful terrier
which accompanied your grandfather throughout the whole route would howl
for very exhaustion; and whenever his master stopped to look about him,
or to set his compass, the poor brute would scratch about and make
himself a bed for a few minutes' rest in the soft snow."
"Poor Doggy!" said George, "I can pity him for I remember once when I
walked some miles through the snow, and my shoes got clogged up, I was
so tired, what Uncle Tom called 'dead beat,' that I could not help
crying the last mile before I reached home."
"Imagine, then, your grandfather starting and making the best of his way
over the snow-clad country until the afternoon began to warn him that he
must make a halt. At about four o'clock the traveller has to begin his
preparation for the night's lodging, and this he does by clearing away
the snow (which is sometimes ten feet deep) from a square space; for
which purpose he makes a rude shovel, cut out of the side of some
standing tree; and, as snow does not adhere to wood as it does to iron,
this is the best thing to be used in removing the snow. When the ground
is quite cleared, the wood for the fire is laid in the centre, about
a foot of loose snow being left round the space in which it is to be
kindled. Upon this, the spruce or fir branches, which easily break off
when bent sharply backwards, are laid all one way, with the lower part
of the bough upwards. Thus the bed is made. The excavated snow forms
a lofty wall round the square; and here the traveller lies, with no
covering from the weather, nor any other shelter than the walls of snow
on each side of his cavern, and the surrounding trees, may afford."
"I wonder," said George, "how they got a light to make the fire with;
perhaps by rubbing two pieces of wood together."
"Your guess, though ingenious, is not correct, my dear," said Mrs. Ward,
"there is a certain yellow fungus which grows on the hazel tree that
supplies tinder to the Indian, who is never without flint and steel; and
he has a very expert method of rapidly whirling moss and dry leaves and
bark in his hands, so as to cause a draught, and in a wonderfully short
time he succeeds in making a cheerful blaze."
"And what has he to eat?"
"Plenty of venison, for there are large flocks of deer in the country.
You will wonder where these creatures find pasture; I will tell you. At
the time when your grandfather travelled, the whole land was covered
with snow, excepting on the tops of some of the hills, from which the
snow had melted. These lofty, bare spots are called 'naps,' and they
resemble island meadows in an ocean of snow. Upon these, the deer were
grazing leisurely, like cattle, in numerous herds. They go in quest of
food from one of these naps to another, in places near water, which
after long frost becomes exceedingly scarce; in the interior, the tracks
of the deer were as thick as of cattle in the snow in a well-stocked
farmyard. There were, beside, plenty of ptarmigan, which abounded on
these hills, searching for a species of cranberry, a food of which they
are very fond."
"Vension and grouse! dainty dishes, indeed, dear granny; after all, that
is not quite a land of barrenness."
"Nay, child! there is provision made in all places of our heavenly
Father's dominions for the supply of the necessities both of man and
beast. But I must hasten on, or you will be weary of my tale."
[Illustration]
CHAPTER III.
"In addition to the first guide, your grandfather now engaged one of the
Indians with whom they had passed the night, to accompany him. The three
cheerfully proceeded on their route, and for the first few days enjoyed
very brilliant weather, and made so much progress upon the hard snow,
that I believe they had nearly traversed a third of their destined route
across to St. George's Bay.
"But now they began to suffer severely from the state of their eyes
which became exceedingly painful, and no wonder; for by day they were
exposed to the full glare of the sun upon the wide expanse of snow,
and all night to the red glare of the fire, together with the pungent
wood-smoke, which proved a constant trial to the sight. At length they
became almost blind, and to add to their distress, provisions began to
fail them. They had counted on securing plenty of game as they went
along, and no one ever thinks of carrying provisions for more than a day
or two into the interior with them. Now, unhappily, this resource was at
an end; for not one of the three could see well enough to use a gun, or,
indeed, bear to look upwards.
"What follows is very sad; it is touchingly told in the journal, and I
will read the account as it is there given:--'The atmosphere now became
so thick, that, had we not been troubled with snow-blindness, we could
not have seen more than a few yards, and could not possibly have made
our way in an unknown country.
"'These Newfoundland fogs are fearful things; they surpass, indeed, the
imagination of Europeans. You seem to be actually in cloud-land; for
nothing but cloud is visible above, around, and beneath. This state of
things lasts often for days; now it is a bright white, as though the day
were struggling through; now it becomes shaded, and now almost night.
Sometimes there are little openings, and you catch a clean vista between
two walls of vapour, but it is presently shut out by the rolling masses
of fog. I could compare it to nothing but ghost-land; nothing is real
except the danger!"
"Were you ever in such a fog as that, grandmamma?" asked George.
"Yes, George; once at sea we were overtaken by a most fearful and
prolonged fog; never in my life did I experience such feelings of awe
and alarm as during that weary week.
