INTRODUCTION
IthinkIhavemet\"RalphConner.\"Indeed，IamsureIhave——onceinacanoeontheRedRiver，onceontheAssinaboine，andtwiceorthriceontheprairiestotheWest.Thatwasnotthenamehegaveme，but，ifIamright，itcoversoneofthemosthonestandgenialofthestrongcharactersthatarefightingthedevilanddoinggoodworkformenallovertheworld.Hehasseenwithhisowneyesthelifewhichhedescribesinthisbook，andhashimself，forsomeyearsofhardandlonelytoil，assistedinthegoodinfluenceswhichhetracesamongitswildandoftenhopelessconditions.Hewriteswiththefreshnessandaccuracyofaneye—witness，withthestyle（asIthinkhisreaderswillallow）ofarealartist，andwiththetendernessandhopefulnessofamannotonlyoffaithbutofexperience，whohasseeninfulfillmenttheidealsforwhichhelives.
Thelifetowhichhetakesus，thoughfaroffandverystrangetoourtameminds，isthelifeofourbrothers.IntotheNorthwestofCanadatheyoungmenofGreatBritainandIrelandhavebeenpouring（Iwastold），sometimesattherateof48，000ayear.Ourbrotherswholefthomeyesterday——ourheartscannotbutfollowthem.WiththesepagesRalphConnerenablesoureyesandourmindstofollow，too;nordoIthinkthereisanyonewhoshallreadthisbookandnotfindalsothathisconscienceisquickened.Thereisawarfareappointeduntomanuponearth，anditsstrugglesarenowheremoreintense，northevictoriesofthestrong，northesuccorsbroughttothefallen，moreheroic，thanonthefieldsdescribedinthisvolume.
GEORGEADAMSMITH.
BLACKROCK
Thestoryofthebookistrue，andchiefofthefailuresinthemakingofthebookisthis，thatitisnotallthetruth.Thelightisnotbrightenough，theshadowisnotblackenoughtogiveatruepictureofthatbitofWesternlifeofwhichthewriterwassomesmallpart.Themenofthebookarestillthereintheminesandlumbercampsofthemountains，fightingoutthateternalfightformanhood，strong，clean，God—conquered.And，whenthewestwindsblow，totheopenearthesoundsofbattlecome，tellingthefortunesofthefight.
Becauseaman’slifeisallhehas，andbecausetheonlyhopeofthebraveyoungWestliesinitsmen，thisstoryistold.Itmaybethatthetragicpityofabrokenlifemaymovesometopray，andthatthatdivinepowerthereisinasinglebravehearttosummonforthhopeandcouragemaymovesometofight.Ifso，thetaleisnottoldinvain.
C.W.G.
CONTENTS
CHAPTERI
CHRISTMASEVEINALUMBERCAMP
CHAPTERII
THEBLACKROCKCHRISTMAS
CHAPTERIII
WATERLOO.OURFIGHT——HISVICTORY
CHAPTERIV
MRS.MAVOR’SSTORY
CHAPTERV
THEMAKINGOFTHELEAGUE
CHAPTERVI
BLACKROCKRELIGION
CHAPTERVII
THEFIRSTBLACKROCKCOMMUNION
CHAPTERVIII
THEBREAKINGOFTHELEAGUE
CHAPTERIX
THELEAGUE’SREVENGE
CHAPTERX
WHATCAMETOSLAVIN
CHAPTERXI
THETWOCALLS
CHAPTERXII
LOVEISNOTALL
CHAPTERXIII
HOWNELSONCAMEHOME
CHAPTERXIV
GRAEME’SNEWBIRTH
CHAPTERXV
COMINGTOTHEIROWN
CHAPTERI
CHRISTMASEVEINALUMBERCAMP
ItwasduetoamysteriousdispensationofProvidence，andagooddealtoLeslieGraeme，thatIfoundmyselfintheheartoftheSelkirksformyChristmasEveastheyear1882wasdying.IthadbeenmyplantospendmyChristmasfarawayinToronto，withsuchBohemianandbooncompanionsascouldbefoundinthatcosmopolitanandkindlycity.ButLeslieGraemechangedallthat，for，discoveringmeinthevillageofBlackRock，withmytrapsallpacked，waitingforthestagetostartfortheLanding，thirtymilesaway，heboredownuponmewithresistlessforce，andIfoundmyselfrecoveringfrommysurpriseonlyafterwehadgoneinhislumbersleighsomesixmilesonourwaytohiscampupinthemountains.Iwassurprisedandmuchdelighted，thoughIwouldnotallowhimtothinkso，tofindthathisold—timepowerovermewasstillthere.Hecouldalwaysintheold’Varsitydays——dear，wilddays——makemedowhatheliked.Hewassohandsomeandsoreckless，brilliantinhisclass—work，andtheprinceofhalf—backsontheRugbyfield，andwithsuchpoweroffascination，aswould’extracttheheartoutofawheelbarrow，’asBarneyLundyusedtosay.AndthusitwasthatIfoundmyselfjustthreeweekslater——I
wastohavespenttwoorthreedays，——ontheafternoonofthe24thofDecember，standinginGraeme’sLumberCampNo.2，wonderingatmyself.ButIdidnotregretmychangedplans，forinthosethreeweeksIhadraidedacinnamonbear’sdenandhadwakenedupagrizzly——ButIshallletthegrizzlyfinishthetale;heprobablyseesmorehumourinitthanI.
Thecampstoodinalittleclearing，andconsistedofagroupofthreelong，lowshantieswithsmallershacksnearthem，allbuiltofheavy，unhewnlogs，withdoorandwindowineach.Thegrubcamp，withcook—shedattached，stoodinthemiddleoftheclearing;
atalittledistancewasthesleeping—campwiththeofficebuiltagainstit，andaboutahundredyardsawayontheothersideoftheclearingstoodthestables，andnearthemthesmiddy.Themountainsrosegrandlyoneveryside，throwinguptheirgreatpeaksintothesky.Theclearinginwhichthecampstoodwashewnoutofadensepineforestthatfilledthevalleyandclimbedhalfwayupthemountain—sides，andthenfrayedoutinscatteredandstuntedtrees.
ItwasoneofthosewonderfulCanadianwinterdays，bright，andwithatouchofsharpnessintheairthatdidnotchill，butwarmedthebloodlikedraughtsofwine.Themenwereupinthewoods，andtheshrillscreamofthebluejayflashingacrosstheopen，theimpudentchatteroftheredsquirrelfromthetopofthegrubcamp，andthepertchirpofthewhisky—jack，hoppingaboutontherubbish—heap，withthelong，lonecryofthewolffardownthevalley，onlymadethesilencefeltthemore.
AsIstooddrinkinginwithallmysoulthegloriousbeautyandthesilenceofmountainandforest，withtheChristmasfeelingstealingintome，Graemecameoutfromhisoffice，and，catchingsightofme，calledout，’GloriousChristmasweather，oldchap！’Andthen，comingnearer，’Mustyougoto—morrow？’
’Ifearso，’Ireplied，knowingwellthattheChristmasfeelingwasonhimtoo.
’IwishIweregoingwithyou，’hesaidquietly.
Iturnedeagerlytopersuadehim，butatthelookofsufferinginhisfacethewordsdiedatmylips，forwebothwerethinkingoftheawfulnightofhorrorwhenallhisbright，brilliantlifecrasheddownabouthiminblackruinandshame.Icouldonlythrowmyarmoverhisshoulderandstandsilentbesidehim.Asuddenjingleofbellsrousedhim，and，givinghimselfalittleshake，heexclaimed，’Therearetheboyscominghome.’
Soonthecampwasfilledwithmentalking，laughing，chaffing，likelight—heartedboys.
’Theyarealittlewildto—night，’saidGraeme;’andtomorrowthey’llpaintBlackRockred.’
Beforemanyminuteshadgone，thelastteamsterwas’washedup，’
andallwerestandingaboutwaitingimpatientlyforthecook’ssignal——thesupperto—nightwastobe’somethingofafeed’——whenthesoundofbellsdrewtheirattentiontoalightsleighdrawnbyabuckskinbronchocomingdownthehillsideatagreatpace.
’Thepreacher，I’llbet，byhisdriving，’saidoneofthemen.
’Bedad，andit’shimhasthefoinenoseforturkey！’saidBlaney，agood—natured，jovialIrishman.
’Yes，orforpay—day，morelike，’saidKeefe，ablack—browed，villainousfellow—countrymanofBlaney’s，and，strangetosay，hisgreatfriend.
BigSandyM’Naughton，aCanadianHighlanderfromGlengarry，roseupinwrath.’BillKeefe，’saidhe，withdeliberateemphasis，’you’lljustkeepyourdirtytongueofftheminister;andasforyourpay，it’slittleheseesofit，oranyoneelse，exceptMikeSlavin，whenyou’retoodrytowaitforsomeonetotreatyou，orperhapsFatherRyan，whenthefearofhell—fireisontoyou.’
ThemenstoodamazedatSandy’ssuddenangerandlengthofspeech.
’Bon;dat’sgoodforyou，mybullyboy，’saidBaptiste，awirylittleFrench—Canadian，Sandy’sswornallyanddevotedadmirereversincethedaywhenthebigScotsman，undergreatprovocation，hadknockedhimcleanoffthedumpintotheriverandthenjumpedinforhim.
ItwasnottillafterwardsIlearnedthecauseofSandy’ssuddenwrathwhichurgedhimtosuchunwontedlengthofspeech.ItwasnotsimplythatthePresbyterianbloodcarriedwithitreverencefortheministerandcontemptforPapistsandFenians，butthathehadavividremembranceofhow，onlyamonthago，theministerhadgothimoutofMikeSlavin’ssaloonandouttheclutchesofKeefeandSlavinandtheirgangofbloodsuckers.
Keefestartedupwithacurse.BaptistesprangtoSandy’sside，slappedhimontheback，andcalledout，’Youkeelhim，I’llhit（eat）himup，me.’
Itlookedasiftheremightbeafight，whenaharshvoicesaidinalow，savagetone，’Stopyourrow，youblankfools;settleit，ifyouwantto，somewhereelse.’Iturned，andwasamazedtoseeoldmanNelson，whowasveryseldommovedtospeech.
Therewasalookofscornonhishard，iron—greyface，andofsuchsettledfiercenessasmademequitebelievethetalesIhadheardofhisdeadlyfightsintheminesatthecoast.Beforeanyreplycouldbemade，theministerdroveupandcalledoutinacheeryvoice，’MerryChristmas，boys！Hello，Sandy！Commentcava，Baptiste？Howdoyoudo，Mr.Graeme？’
’Firstrate.Letmeintroducemyfriend，Mr.Connor，sometimemedicalstudent，nowartist，hunter，andtrampatlarge，butnotabadsort.’
’Amantobeenvied，’saidtheminister，smiling.’IamgladtoknowanyfriendofMr.Graeme’s.’
IlikedMr.Craigfromthefirst.Hehadgoodeyesthatlookedstraightoutatyou，aclean—cut，strongfacewellsetonhisshoulders，andaltogetheranupstanding，manlybearing.HeinsistedongoingwithSandytothestablestoseeDandy，hisbroncho，putup.
’Decentfellow，’saidGraeme;’butthoughheisgoodenoughtohisbroncho，itisSandythat’sinhismindnow.’
’Doeshecomeoutoften？Imean，areyoupartofhisparish，sotospeak？’
’Ihavenodoubthethinksso;andI’mblowedifhedoesn’tmakethePresbyteriansofusthinksotoo.’Andheaddedafterapause，’Adandylotofparishionersweareforanyman.There’sSandy，now，hewouldknockKeefe’sheadoffasakindofreligiousexercise;butto—morrowKeefewillbesober，andSandywillbedrunkasalord，andthedrunkerheisthebetterPresbyterianhe’llbe;tothepreacher’sdisgust.’Thenafteranotherpauseheaddedbitterly，’ButitisnotformetothrowrocksatSandy;Iamnotthesamekindoffool，butIamafoolofseveralothersorts.’
Thenthecookcameoutandbeatatattooonthebottomofadish—
pan.Baptisteansweredwithayell：butthoughkeenlyhungry，nomanwoulddemeanhimselftodootherthanwalkwithapparentreluctancetohisplaceatthetable.Atthefurtherendofthecampwasabigfireplace，andfromthedoortothefireplaceextendedthelongboardtables，coveredwithplattersofturkeynottooscientificallycarved，dishesofpotatoes，bowlsofapplesauce，platesofbutter，pies，andsmallerdishesdistributedatregularintervals.Twolanternshangingfromtheroof，andarowofcandlesstuckintothewalloneithersidebymeansofslitsticks，castadim，weirdlightoverthescene.
Therewasamoment’ssilence，andatanodfromGraemeMr.Craigroseandsaid，’Idon’tknowhowyoufeelaboutit，men，buttomethislooksgoodenoughtobethankfulfor.’
’Fireahead，sir，’calledoutavoicequiterespectfully，andtheministerbenthisheadandsaid——
’ForChristtheLordwhocametosaveus，foralltheloveandgoodnesswehaveknown，andfortheseThygiftstousthisChristmasnight，ourFather，makeusthankful.Amen.’
’Bon，dat’sfussrate，’saidBaptiste.’Seemslakdat’smakemehit（eat）morebetterforsure，’andthennowordwasspokenforquarterofanhour.Theoccasionwasfartoosolemnandmomentstoopreciousforanythingsoemptyaswords.Butwhenthewhitepilesofbreadandthebrownpilesofturkeyhadforasecondtimevanished，andafterthelastpiehaddisappeared，therecameapauseandhushofexpectancy，whereuponthecookandcookee，eachbearingaloftahuge，blazingpudding，cameforth.
’Hooray！’yelledBlaney，’upwidyez！’andgrabbingthecookbytheshouldersfrombehind，hefacedhimabout.
Mr.Craigwasthefirsttorespond，andseizingthecookeeinthesameway，calledout，’Squad，fallin！quickmarch！’Inamomenteverymanwasintheprocession.
’Strikeup，Batchees，yelittleangel！’shoutedBlaney，theappellationaconcessiontotheminister’spresence;andawaywentBaptisteinarollickingFrenchsongwiththeEnglishchorus——
’Thenblow，yewinds，inthemorning，Blow，yewinds，ayoh！
Blow，yewinds，inthemorning，Blow，blow，blow.’
Andateach’blow’everybootcamedownwithathumpontheplankfloorthatshookthesolidroof.Afterthesecondround，Mr.
Craigjumpeduponthebench，andcalledout——
’ThreecheersforBillythecook！’
InthesilencefollowingthecheersBaptistewasheardtosay，’Bon！dat’smakmefeellakhitdatpuddin’allhupmesef，me.’
’Heartillthelittlebaste！’saidBlaneyindisgust.
’Batchees，’remonstratedSandygravely，’ye’vemorestomachthanmanners.’
’Fusure！butdemorestomachdat’smorebetterfordispuddin’，’
repliedthelittleFrenchmancheerfully.
Afteratimethetableswereclearedandpushedbacktothewall，andpipeswereproduced.Inallattitudessuggestiveofcomfortthemendisposedthemselvesinawidecircleaboutthefire，whichnowroaredandcrackledupthegreatwoodenchimneyhangingfromtheroof.Thelumberman’shourofblisshadarrived.EvenoldmanNelsonlookedashadelessmelancholythanusualashesatalone，wellawayfromthefire，smokingsteadilyandsilently.Whenthesecondpipeswerewella—going，oneofthementookdownaviolinfromthewallandhandedittoLachlanCampbell.ThereweretwobrothersCampbelljustoutfromArgyll，typicalHighlanders：
Lachlan，dark，silent，melancholy，withthefaceofamystic，andAngus，red—haired，quick，impulsive，anddevotedtohisbrother，adevotionhethoughtpropertocoverunderbiting，sarcasticspeech.
Lachlan，aftermuchprotestation，interspersedwithgibesfromhisbrother，tooktheviolin，and，inresponsetothecallfromallsides，struckup’LordMacdonald’sReel.’Inamomentthefloorwasfilledwithdancers，whoopingandcrackingtheirfingersinthewildestmanner.ThenBaptistedidthe’RedRiverJig，’amostintricateanddifficultseriesofsteps，themenkeepingtimetothemusicwithhandsandfeet.
Whenthejigwasfinished，Sandycalledfor’LochaberNoMore’;butCampbellsaid，’No，no！Icannotplaythatto—night.Mr.Craigwillplay.’
Craigtooktheviolin，andatthefirstnoteIknewhewasnoordinaryplayer.Ididnotrecognisethemusic，butitwassoftandthrilling，andgotinbytheheart，tilleveryonewasthinkinghistenderestandsaddestthoughts.
Afterhehadplayedtwoorthreeexquisitebits，hegaveCampbellhisviolin，saying，’Now，\"Lochaber，\"Lachlan.’
WithoutawordLachlanbegan，not’Lochaber’——hewasnotreadyforthatyet——but’TheFlowerso’theForest，’andfromthatwanderedthrough’AuldRobinGray’and’TheLando’theLeal，’andsogotatlasttothatmostsoul—subduingofScottishlaments，’LochaberNoMore.’Atthefirststrain，hisbrother，whohadthrownhimselfonsomeblanketsbehindthefire，turnedoveronhisface，feigningsleep.SandyM’Naughtontookhispipeoutofhismouth，andsatupstraightandstiff，staringintovacancy，andGraeme，beyondthefire，drewashort，sharpbreath.Wehadoftensat，GraemeandI，inourstudent—days，inthedrawing—roomathome，listeningtohisfatherwailingout’Lochaber’uponthepipes，andIwellknewthattheawfulminorstrainswerenoweatingtheirwayintohissoul.
OverandoveragaintheHighlanderplayedhislament.Hehadlongsinceforgottenus，andwasseeingvisionsofthehillsandlochsandglensofhisfar—awaynativeland，andmakingus，too，seestrangethingsoutofthedimpast.IglancedatoldmanNelson，andwasstartledattheeager，almostpiteous，lookinhiseyes，andIwishedCampbellwouldstop.Mr.Craigcaughtmyeye，and，steppingovertoCampbell，heldouthishandfortheviolin.
LingeringlyandlovinglytheHighlanderdrewoutthelaststrain，andsilentlygavetheministerhisinstrument.
Withoutamoment’spause，andwhilethespellof’Lochaber’wasstilluponus，theminister，withexquisiteskill，fellintotherefrainofthatsimpleandbeautifulcamp—meetinghymn，’TheSweetByandBy.’Afterplayingtheversethroughonce，hesangsoftlytherefrain.Afterthefirstverse，themenjoinedinthechorus;
atfirsttimidly，butbythetimethethirdversewasreachedtheywereshoutingwiththroatsfullopen，’Weshallmeetonthatbeautifulshore.’WhenIlookedatNelsontheeagerlighthadgoneoutofhiseyes，andinitsplacewaskindofdeterminedhopelessness，asifinthisnewmusichehadnopart.
Afterthevoiceshadceased，Mr.Craigplayedagaintherefrain，moreandmoresoftlyandslowly;thenlayingtheviolinonCampbell’sknees，hedrewfromhispockethislittleBible，andsaid——
’Men，withMr.Graeme’spermission，IwanttoreadyousomethingthisChristmasEve.Youwillallhavehearditbefore，butyouwilllikeitnonethelessforthat.’
Hisvoicewassoft，butclearandpenetrating，ashereadtheeternalstoryoftheangelsandtheshepherdsandtheBabe.Andasheread，aslightmotionofthehandoraglanceofaneyemadeussee，ashewasseeing，thatwholeradiantdrama.Thewonder，thetimidjoy，thetenderness，themysteryofitall，wereborneinuponuswithoverpoweringeffect.Heclosedthebook，andinthesamelow，clearvoicewentontotellushow，inhishomeyearsago，heusedtostandonChristmasEvelisteninginthrillingdelighttohismothertellinghimthestory，andhowsheusedtomakehimseetheshepherdsandhearthesheepbleatingnearby，andhowthesuddenburstofgloryusedtomakehisheartjump.
’Iusedtobealittleafraidoftheangels，becauseaboytoldmetheywereghosts;butmymothertoldmebetter，andIdidn’tfearthemanymore.AndtheBaby，thedearlittleBaby——weallloveababy.’Therewasaquick，drysob;itwasfromNelson.’Iusedtopeekthroughundertoseethelittleoneinthestraw，andwonderwhatthingsswaddlingclotheswere.Oh，itwasallsorealandsobeautiful！’Hepaused，andIcouldhearthemenbreathing.
’ButoneChristmasEve，’hewenton，inalower，sweetertone，’therewasnoonetotellmethestory，andIgrewtoforgetit，andwentawaytocollege，andlearnedtothinkthatitwasonlyachild’staleandwasnotformen.Thenbaddayscametomeandworse，andIbegantolosemygripofmyself，oflife，ofhope，ofgoodness，tilloneblackChristmas，intheslumsofafarawaycity，whenIhadgivenupall，andthedevil’sarmswereaboutme，I
heardthestoryagain.AndasIlistened，withabitteracheinmyheart，forIhadputitallbehindme，Isuddenlyfoundmyselfpeekingundertheshepherds’armswithachild’swonderattheBabyinthestraw.Thenitcameovermelikegreatwaves，thatHisnamewasJesus，becauseitwasHethatshouldsavemenfromtheirsins.
Save！Save！Thewaveskeptbeatinguponmyears，andbeforeI
knew，Ihadcalledout，\"Oh！canHesaveme？\"Itwasinalittlemissionmeetingononeofthesidestreets，andtheyseemedtobeusedtothatsortofthingthere，fornoonewassurprised;andayoungfellowleanedacrosstheaisletomeandsaid，\"Why！youjustbetHecan！\"HissurprisethatIshoulddoubt，hisbrightfaceandconfidenttone，gavemehopethatperhapsitmightbeso.Iheldtothathopewithallmysoul，and’——stretchinguphisarms，andwithaquickglowinhisfaceandalittlebreakinhisvoice，’Hehasn’tfailedmeyet;notonce，notonce！’
Hestoppedquiteshort，andIfeltagooddeallikemakingafoolofmyself，forinthosedaysIhadnotmadeupmymindaboutthesethings.Graeme，pooroldchap，wasgazingathimwithasadyearninginhisdarkeyes;bigSandywassittingverystiff，andstaringharderthaneverintothefire;Baptistewastremblingwithexcitement;Blaneywasopenlywipingthetearsaway.ButthefacethatheldmyeyeswasthatofoldmanNelson.Itwaswhite，fierce，hungry—looking，hissunkeneyesburning，hislipspartedasiftocry.
Theministerwenton.’Ididn’tmeantotellyouthis，men，itallcameovermewitharush;butitistrue，everyword，andnotawordwillItakeback.And，what’smore，Icantellyouthis，whatHedidformeHecandoforanyman，anditdoesn’tmakeanydifferencewhat’sbehindhim，and’——leaningslightlyforward，andwithalittlethrillofpathosvibratinginhisvoice——’Oboys，whydon’tyougiveHimachanceatyou？WithoutHimyou’llneverbethemenyouwanttobe，andyou’llnevergetthebetterofthatthat’skeepingsomeofyounowfromgoingbackhome.Youknowyou’llnevergobacktillyou’rethemenyouwanttobe.’Then，liftinguphisfaceandthrowingbackhishead，hesaid，asiftohimself，’Jesus！HeshallsaveHispeoplefromtheirsins，’andthen，’Letuspray.’
Graemeleanedforwardwithhisfaceinhishands;BaptisteandBlaneydroppedontheirknees;Sandy，theCampbells，andsomeothers，stoodup.OldmanNelsonheldhiseyessteadilyontheminister.
OnlyoncebeforehadIseenthatlookonahumanface.Ayoungfellowhadbrokenthroughtheiceontheriverathome，andastheblackwaterwasdragginghisfingersonebyonefromtheslipperyedges，therecameoverhisfacethatsamelook.Iusedtowakeupformanyanightafterinasweatofhorror，seeingthewhitefacewithitspartinglips，anditspiteous，dumbappeal，andtheblackwaterslowlysuckingitdown.
Nelson’sfacebroughtitallback;butduringtheprayerthefacechanged，andseemedtosettleintoresolveofsomesort，stern，almostgloomy，asofamanwithhislastchancebeforehim.
AftertheprayerMr.CraiginvitedthementoaChristmasdinnernextdayinBlackRock.’Andbecauseyouareanindependentlot，we’llchargeyouhalfadollarfordinnerandtheeveningshow.’
Thenleavingabundleofmagazinesandillustratedpapersonthetable——agodsendtothemen——hesaidgood—byeandwentout.
Iwastogowiththeminister，soIjumpedintothesleighfirst，andwaitedwhilehesaidgood—byetoGraeme，whohadbeenhardhitbythewholeservice，andseemedtowanttosaysomething.IheardMr.Craigsaycheerfullyandconfidently，’It’satruebill：tryHim.’
Sandy，whohadbeensteadyingDandywhilethatinterestingbronchowasattemptingwithgreatsuccesstobalancehimselfonhishindlegs，cametosaygood—bye.’Comeandseemefirstthing，Sandy.’
’Ay！Iknow;I’llseeye，Mr.Craig，’saidSandyearnestly，asDandydashedoffatafullgallopacrosstheclearingandoverthebridge，steadyingdownwhenhereachedthehill.
’Steady，youidiot！’
ThiswastoDandy，whohadtakenasuddensidespringintothedeepsnow，almostupsettingus.Amansteppedoutfromtheshadow.ItwasoldmanNelson.Hecamestraighttothesleigh，and，ignoringmypresencecompletely，said——
’Mr.Craig，areyoudeadsureofthis？Willitwork？’
’Doyoumean，’saidCraig，takinghimuppromptly，’canJesusChristsaveyoufromyoursinsandmakeamanofyou？’
Theoldmannodded，keepinghishungryeyesontheother’sface.
’Well，here’sHismessagetoyou：\"TheSonofManiscometoseekandtosavethatwhichwaslost.\"’
’Tome？Tome？’saidtheoldmaneagerly.
’Listen;this，too，isHisWord：\"HimthatcomethuntoMeIwillinnowisecastout.\"That’sforyou，forhereyouare，coming.’
’Youdon’tknowme，Mr.Craig.Ileftmybabyfifteenyearsagobecause——’
’Stop！’saidtheminister.’Don’ttellme，atleastnotto—night;
perhapsnever.TellHimwhoknowsitallnow，andwhoneverbetraysasecret.HaveitoutwithHim.Don’tbeafraidtotrustHim.’
Nelsonlookedathim，withhisfacequivering，andsaidinahuskyvoice，’Ifthisisnogood，it’shellforme.’
’Ifitisnogood，’repliedCraig，almoststernly，’it’shellforallofus.’
Theoldmanstraightenedhimselfup，lookedupatthestars，thenbackatMr.Craig，thenatme，and，drawingadeepbreath，said，’I’lltryHim.’Ashewasturningawaytheministertouchedhimonthearm，andsaidquietly，’KeepaneyeonSandyto—morrow.’
Nelsonnodded，andwewenton;butbeforewetookthenextturnI
lookedbackandsawwhatbroughtalumpintomythroat.ItwasoldmanNelsononhiskneesinthesnow，withhishandsspreadupwardtothestars，andIwonderediftherewasanyOneabovethestars，andnearerthanthestars，whocouldsee.AndthenthetreeshidhimfrommysightCHAPTERII
THEBLACKROCKCHRISTMAS
ManystrangeChristmasDayshaveIseen，butthatwildBlackRockChristmasstandsoutstrangestofall.WhileIwasrevellinginmydelicioussecondmorningsleep，justawakeenoughtoenjoyit，Mr.
Craigcameabruptly，announcingbreakfastandadding，’Hopeyouareingoodshape，forwehaveourworkbeforeusthisday.’
’Hello！’Ireplied，stillhalfasleep，andanxioustohidefromtheministerthatIwastryingtogainafewmoremomentsofsnoozingdelight，’what’sabroad？’.
’Thedevil，’heansweredshortly，andwithsuchemphasisthatIsatboltupright，lookinganxiouslyabout.
’Oh！noneedforalarm.He’snotafteryouparticularly——atleastnotto—day，’saidCraig，withashadowofasmile.’Butheisgoingaboutingoodstyle，Icantellyou.’
BythistimeIwasquiteawake.’Well，whatparticularstyledoesHisMajestyaffectthismorning？’
Hepulledoutashowbill.’Peculiarlygaudyandeffective，isitnot？’
Theitemsannouncedweresufficientlyattractive.The’FriscoOperaCompanyweretoproducethe’screamingfarce，’’TheGayandGiddyDude’;afterwhichtherewastobea’GrandBall，’duringwhichthe’KaliforniaFemaleKickers’weretodosomefancyfigures;thewholetobefollowedbya’bigsupper’with’twofreedrinkstoeverymanandonetothelady，’andallfortheinsignificantsumoftwodollars.
’Can’tyougoonebetter？’Isaid.
Helookedinquiringlyandalittledisgustedlyatme.
’Whatcanyoudoagainstfreedrinksandadance，nottospeakofthe\"HighKickers\"？’hegroaned.
’No！’hecontinued;’it’sacleanbeatforustoday.Theminersandlumbermenwillhaveintheirpocketstenthousanddollars，andeverydollarburningahole;andSlavinandhisgangwillgetmostofit.But，’headded，’youmusthavebreakfast.You’llfindatubinthekitchen;don’tbeafraidtosplash.ItisthebestI
havetoofferyou.’
Thetubsoundedinviting，andbeforemanyminuteshadpassedIwasinadelightfulglow，theeffectofcoldwaterandaroughtowel，andthatconsciousnessofvirtuethatcomestoamanwhohashadcouragetofacehiscoldbathonawintermorning.
Thebreakfastwaslaidwithfinetaste.Adiminutivepine—tree，inapothungroundwithwintergreen，stoodinthecentreofthetable.
’Well，now，thislooksgood;porridge，beefsteak，potatoes，toast，andmarmalade.’
’Ihopeyouwillenjoyitall.’
Therewasnotmuchtalkoverourmeal.Mr.Craigwasevidentlypreoccupied，andasblueashispolitenesswouldallowhim.
Slavin’svictoryweigheduponhisspirits.Finallyheburstout，’Lookhere！Ican’t，Iwon’tstandit;somethingmustbedone.
LastChristmasthistownwasfortwoweeks，asoneoftheminerssaid，\"alittlesuburbofhell.\"Itwassomethingtooawful.Andattheendofitalloneyoungfellowwasfounddeadinhisshack，andtwentyormorecrawledbacktothecamps，leavingtheirthreemonths’paywithSlavinandhissuckers.
’Iwon’tstandit，Isay.’Heturnedfiercelyonme.’What’stobedone？’
Thisrathertookmeaback，forIhadtroubledmyselfwithnothingofthissortinmylifebefore，beingfullyoccupiedinkeepingmyselfoutofdifficulty，andallowingothersthesameprivilege.
SoIventuredtheconsolationthathehaddonehispart，andthataspreemoreorlesswouldnotmakemuchdifferencetothesemen.
ButthenextmomentIwishedIhadbeenslowerinspeech，forheswiftlyfacedme，andhiswordscamelikeatorrent.
’Godforgiveyouthatheartlessword！Doyouknow——？Butno;youdon’tknowwhatyouaresaying.Youdon’tknowthatthesemenhavebeenclamberingfordearlifeoutofafearfulpitforthreemonthspast，anddoinggoodclimbingtoo，poorchaps.Youdon’tthinkthatsomeofthemhavewives，mostofthemmothersandsisters，intheeastoracrossthesea，forwhosesaketheyareslavinghere;
theminershopingtosaveenoughtobringtheirfamiliestothishomelessplace，theresttomakeenoughtogobackwithcredit.
Why，there’sNixon，miner，splendidchap;hasbeenherefortwoyears，anddrawingthehighestpay.Twicehehasbeeninsightofhisheaven，forhecan’tspeakofhiswifeandbabieswithoutbreakingup，andtwicethatslicksonofthedevil——that’sScripture，mindyou——Slavin，gothim，and\"rolled\"him，astheboyssay.Hewentbacktotheminesbrokeninbodyandinheart.Hesaysthisishisthirdandlastchance.IfSlavingetshim，hiswifeandbabieswillneverseehimonearthorinheaven.ThereisSandy，too，andtherest.And，’headded，inalowertone，andwiththecuriouslittlethrillofpathosinhisvoice，’thisisthedaytheSaviourcametotheworld.’Hepaused，andthenwithalittlesadsmile，’ButIdon’twanttoabuseyou.’
’Do，Ienjoyit，I’mabeast，aselfishbeast’;forsomehowhisintense，blazingearnestnessmademefeeluncomfortablysmall.
’Whathavewetooffer？’Idemanded.
’WaittillIhavegotthesethingsclearedaway，andmyhousekeepingdone.’
Ipressedmyservicesuponhim，somewhatfeebly，Iown，forIcan’tbeardishwater;butherejectedmyoffer.
’Idon’tliketrustingmychinatothehandsofatender—foot.’
’Quiteright，thoughyourchinawouldproveanexcellentmeansofdefenceatlongrange.’Itwasdelf，aquarterofaninchthick.
SoIsmokedwhilehewashedup，swept，dusted，andarrangedtheroom.
Aftertheroomwasorderedtohistaste，weproceededtoholdcouncil.Hecouldofferdinner，magiclantern，music.’Wecanfillintimefortwohours，but，’headdedgloomily，’wecan’tbeatthedanceandthe\"HighKickers.\"’
’Haveyounothingneworstartling？’
Heshookhishead.
’Nokindofshow？Dogshow？Snakecharmer？’
’Slavinhasamonopolyofthesnakes.’
Thenheaddedhesitatingly，’TherewasanoldPunch—and—Judychapherelastyear，buthedied.Whiskyagain.’
’Whathappenedtohisshow？’
’TheBlackRockHotelmantookitforboardandwhiskybill.Hehasitstill，Isuppose.’
Ididnotmuchrelishthebusiness;butIhatedtoseehimbeaten，soIventured，’IhaverunaPunchandJudyinanamateurwayatthe’Varsity.’
Hesprangtohisfeetwithayell.
’Youhave！youmeantosayit？We’vegotthem！We’vebeatenthem！’Hehadanextraordinarywayoftakingyourhelpforgranted.’Theminerchaps，mostlyEnglishandWelsh，wentmadoverthepooroldshowman，andmadehimsowealthythatinsheergratitudehedrankhimselftodeath.’
HewalkedupanddowninhighexcitementandinsuchevidentdelightthatIfeltpledgedtomybesteffort.
’Well，’Isaid，’firsttheposter.Wemustbeattheminthat.’
Hebroughtmelargesheetsofbrownpaper，andaftertwohours’
hardworkIhadhalfadozenpictorialshowbillsdoneingorgeouscoloursandstrikingdesigns.Theyweregood，ifIdosayitmyself.
Theturkey，themagiclantern，thePunchandJudyshowwereallthere，thelastwithacrowdbeforeitingapingdelight.Afewexplanatorywordswerethrownin，emphasisingthehighlyartisticnatureofthePunchandJudyentertainment.
Craigwasdelighted，andproceededtoperfecthisplans.Hehadsomehalfadozenyoungmen，fouryoungladies，andeightortenmatrons，uponwhomhecoulddependforhelp.TheseheorganisedintoavigilancecommitteechargedwiththedutyofpreventingminersandlumbermenfromgettingawaytoSlavin’s.’Thecriticalmomentswillbeimmediatelybeforeandafterdinner，andthenagainaftertheshowisover，’heexplained.’ThefirsttwocrisesmustbelefttothecareofPunchandJudy，andasforthelast，Iamnotyetsurewhatshallbedone’;butIsawhehadsomethinginhishead，forheadded，’IshallseeMrs.Mavor.’
’WhoisMrs.Mavor？’Iasked.Buthemadenoreply.Hewasabornfighter，andheputthefightingspiritintousall.Wewereboundtowin.
Thesportsweretobeginattwoo’clock.Bylunch—timeeverythingwasinreadiness.AfterlunchIwashavingaquietsmokeinCraig’sshackwheninherushed，saying——
’Thebattlewillbelostbeforeitisfought.IfweloseQuatreBras，weshallnevergettoWaterloo.’
’What’sup？’
’Slavin，justnow.Theminersarecomingin，andhewillhavethemintowinhalfanhour.’
Helookedatmeappealingly.Iknewwhathewanted.
’Allright;IsupposeImust，butitisanawfulborethatamancan’thaveaquietsmoke.’
’You’renothalfabadfellow，’hereplied，smiling.’Ishallgettheladiestofurnishcoffeeinsidethebooth.YoufurnishthemintellectualnourishmentinfrontwithdearoldPunchandJudy.’
Hesentaboywithabellroundthevillageannouncing，’Punch，andJudyinfrontoftheChristmasboothbesidethechurch’;andforthree—quartersofanhourIshriekedandsweatedinthatawfullittlepen.Butitwasalmostworthittoheartheshoutsofapprovalandlaughterthatgreetedmyperformance.Itwascoldworkstandingabout，sothatthecrowdwasquitereadytorespondwhenPunch，afterbeingdulyhanged，cameforwardandinvitedallintotheboothforthehotcoffeewhichJudyhadordered.
Intheytrooped，andQuatreBraswaswon.
NosoonerweretheminerssafelyengagedwiththeircoffeethanI
heardagreatnoiseofbellsandofmenshouting;andonreachingthestreetIsawthatthemenfromthelumbercampwerecomingin.
Twoimmensesleighs，decoratedwithribbonsandspruceboughs，eachdrawnbyafour—horseteamgailyadorned，filledwithsomefiftymen，singingandshoutingwithalltheirmight，werecomingdownthehillroadatfullgallop.Roundthecornertheyswung，dashedatfullspeedacrossthebridgeanddownthestreet，andpulledupaftertheyhadmadethecircuitofablock，tothegreatadmirationoftheonlookers.AmongothersSlavinsaunteredupgood—naturedly，makinghimselfagreeabletoSandyandthosewhowerehelpingtounhitchhisteam.
’Oh，youneednottaketroublewithmeormyteam，MikeSlavin.
Batcheesandmeandtheboyscanlookafterthemfine，’saidSandycoolly.
ThisrejectingofhospitalitywasperfectlyunderstoodbySlavinandbyall.
’Dat’stoobad，heh？’saidBaptistewickedly;’and，Sandy，he’sgotgoodmoneyonhispocketforsure，too.’Theboyslaughed，andSlavin，joiningin，turnedawaywithKeeleandBlaney;butbythelookinhiseyeIknewhewasplaying’Br’erRabbit，’andlyinglow.
Mr.Craigjustthencameup，’Hello，boys！toolateforPunchandJudy，butjustintimeforhotcoffeeanddoughnuts.’
’Bon;dat’sfussrate，’saidBaptisteheartily;’whereyoukeephim？’
’Upinthetentnextthechurchthere.Theminersareallin.’
’Ah，datso？Dat’sbadnewsfortheshantymen，heh，Sandy？’saidthelittleFrenchmandolefully.
’Therewasaclothes—basketfullofdoughnutsandaboilerofcoffeeleftasIpassedjustnow，’saidCraigencouragingly.
’Allons，mesgarcons;vite！neversaykeel！’criedBaptisteexcitedly，strippingofftheharness.
ButSandywouldnotleavethehorsestilltheywerecarefullyrubbeddown，blanketed，andfed，forhewasenteredforthefour—
horseraceanditbehovedhimtodohisbesttowin.Besides，hescornedtohurryhimselfforanythingsounimportantaseating;
thatheconsideredhardlyworthyevenofBaptiste.Mr.Craigmanagedtogetawordwithhimbeforehewentoff，andIsawSandysolemnlyandemphaticallyshakehishead，saying，’Ah！we’llbeathimthisday，’andIgatheredthathewasaddedtothevigilancecommittee.
OldmanNelsonwasbusywithhisownteam.HeturnedslowlyatMr.
Craig’sgreeting，’Howisit，Nelson？’anditwaswithaverygravevoiceheanswered，’Ihardlyknow，sir;butIamnotgoneyet，thoughitseemslittletoholdto.’
’Allyouwantforagripiswhatyourhandcancover.Whatwouldyouhave？Andbesides，doyouknowwhyyouarenotgoneyet？’
Theoldmanwaited，lookingattheministergravely.
’BecauseHehasn’tletgoHisgripofyou.’
’HowdoyouknowHe’sgrippedme？’
’Now，lookhere，Nelson，doyouwanttoquitthisthingandgiveitallup？’
’No，no！Forheaven’ssake，no！Why，doyouthinkIhavelostit？’saidNelson，almostpiteously.
’Well，He’skeeneraboutitthanyou;andI’llbetyouhaven’tthoughtitworthwhiletothankHim.’
’TothankHim，’herepeated，almoststupidly，’for——’
’Forkeepingyouwhereyouareovernight，’saidMr.Craig，almoststernly.
Theoldmangazedattheminister，alightgrowinginhiseyes.
’You’reright.ThankGod，you’reright.’Andthenheturnedquicklyaway，andwentintothestablebehindhisteam.Itwasaminutebeforehecameout.Overhisfacetherewasatremblingjoy.
’CanIdoanythingforyouto—day？’heaskedhumbly.
’Indeedyoujustcan，’saidtheminister，takinghishandandshakingitverywarmly;andthenhetoldhimSlavin’sprogrammeandours.
’Sandyisallrighttillafterhisrace.Afterthatishistimeofdanger，’saidtheminister.
’I’llstaywithhim，sir，’saidoldNelson，inthetoneofamantakingacovenant，andimmediatelysetoffforthecoffee—tent.
’Herecomesanotherrecruitforyourcorps，’Isaid，pointingtoLeslieGraeme，whowascomingdownthestreetatthatmomentinhislightsleigh.
’Iamnotsosure.Doyouthinkyoucouldgethim？’
Ilaughed.’Youareagoodone.’
’Well，’hereplied，halfdefiantly，’isnotthisyourfighttoo？’
’Youmakemethinkso，thoughIamboundtosayIhardlyrecognisemyselftoday.Butheregoes，’andbeforeIknewitIwasdescribingourplanstoGraeme，growingmoreandmoreenthusiasticashesatinhissleigh，listeningwithaquizzicalsmileIdidn’tquitelike.
’He’sgotyoutoo，’hesaid;’Ifearedso.’
’Well，’Ilaughed，’perhapsso.ButIwanttolickthatmanSlavin.I’vejustseenhim，andhe’sjustwhatCraigcallshim，\"aslicksonofthedevil.\"Don’tbeshocked;hesaysitisScripture.’
’Revisedversion，’saidGraemegravely，whileCraiglookedalittleabashed.
’Whatisassignedme，Mr.Craig？forIknowthatthismanissimplyyouragent.’
Irepudiatedtheidea，whileMr.Craigsaidnothing.
’What’smypart？’demandedGraeme.
’Well，’saidMr.Craighesitatingly，’ofcourseIwoulddonothingtillIhadconsultedyou;butIwantamantotakemyplaceatthesports.Iamreferee.’
’That’sallright，’saidGraeme，withanairofrelief;’Iexpectedsomethinghard.’
’AndthenIthoughtyouwouldnotmindpresidingatdinner——Iwantittogooffwell.’
’Didyounoticethat？’saidGraemetome.’Notabadtouch，eh？’
’That’snothingtothewayhetouchedme.Waitandlearn，’I
answered，whileCraiglookedquitedistressed.’He’lldoit，Mr.
Craig，neverfear，’Isaid，’andanyotherlittledutythatmayoccurtoyou.’
’Nowthat’stoobadofyou.ThatisallIwant，honourbright，’hereplied;adding，asheturnedaway，’youarejustintimeforacupofcoffee，Mr.Graeme.NowImustseeMrs.Mavor.’
’WhoisMrs.Mavor？’IdemandedofGraeme.
’Mrs.Mavor？Theminers’guardianangel.’
Weputupthehorsesandsetoffforcoffee.AsweapproachedtheboothGraemecaughtsightofthePunchandJudyshow，stoodstillinamazement，andexclaimed，’Canthedeadlive？’
’PunchandJudyneverdie，’Irepliedsolemnly.
’Buttheoldmanipulatorisdeadenough，pooroldbeggar！’
’Buthelefthismantle，asyousee.’
Helookedatmeamoment’What！doyoumean，you——？’
’Yes，thatisexactlywhatIdomean.’
’Heisgreatman，thatCraigfellow——atrulygreatman.’
Andthenheleanedupagainstatreeandlaughedtillthetearscame.’Isay，oldboy，don’tmindme，’hegasped，’butdoyouremembertheold’Varsityshow？’
’Yes，youvillain;andIrememberyourpartinit.Iwonderhowyoucan，evenatthisremotedate，laughatit.’ForIhadavividrecollectionofhow，aftera’chasteandhighlyartisticperformanceofthismediaevalplay’hadbeengivenbeforeadistinguishedTorontoaudience，thetrapdoorbywhichIhadenteredmyboxwasfastened，andIwaslefttoswelterinmycage，andforcedtolistentothesuffocatedlaughterfromthewingsandthestagewhispersof’Hello，Mr.Punch，where’sthebaby？’AndformanyadayafterIwassubjectedtoanxiousinquiriesastothelocalityandhealthof’thebaby，’andwhetheritwasabletobeout.
’Oh，thedearolddays！’hekeptsaying，overandover，inatonesofullofsadnessthatmyheartgrewsoreforhimandIforgavehim，asmanyatimebefore.
ThesportspassedoffintypicalWesternstyle.Inadditiontotheusualrunningandleapingcontests，therewasrifleandpistolshooting，inbothofwhicholdmanNelsonstoodfirst，withShaw，foremanofthemines，second.
Thegreateventoftheday，however，wastobethefour—horserace，forwhichthreeteamswereentered——onefromtheminesdrivenbyNixon，Craig’sfriend，acitizens’team，andSandy’s.Theracewasreallybetweentheminers’team，andthatfromthewoods，forthecitizens’team，thoughmadeupofspeedyhorses，hadnotbeendrivenmuchtogether，andknewneithertheirdrivernoreachother.
Intheminers’teamwerefourbays，verypowerful，atrifleheavyperhaps，butwellmatched，perfectlytrained，andperfectlyhandledbytheirdriver.Sandyhadhislongrangyroans，andforleadersapairofhalf—brokenpintobronchos.Thepintos，caughtthesummerbeforeupontheAlbertaprairies，werefleetasdeer，butwickedanduncertain.TheywereBaptiste’sspecialcareandpride.Iftheywouldonlyrunstraighttherewaslittledoubtthattheywouldcarrytheroansandthemselvestoglory;butonecouldnottellthemomenttheymightboltorkickthingstopieces.
Beingtheonlynon—partisaninthecrowdIwasaskedtoreferee.