The Wreck of the White Bear, East Indiaman

Front matter

THE WEECK OE THE WHITE BEAE, EAST INDIAMATi. BY MRS. ROSS, AUTHOR OF "VIOLET KEITH." " The slayer Death is everywhere, and many a mask hath he, Many and awful are the shapes in which he sways the sea." McGee. VOIi. II. glontvrat : PRINTED BY JOHN LOVELL, ST. NICHOLAS STREET. 1870. Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the year one thousand eight hundred and seventy, by Mrs. Ellen Ross, in the Office ofthe Minister of Agriculture. INDEX TO VOLUME II.

Chapter I

" Do ye hear us when we call you,— do ye heed the tears we shed? Oh beloved ! — Oh immortal ! — Oh ye dead, who are not dead ! Speak tous across the darkness — wave to us a glimmering hand; TeU us but that ye remember, dwellers in the silent land." John MacBeth and Katie sat on a green knoll in front of the cottage door in the calm sunshine, mending a large net intended for the deep-sea fishing. The two boys were spread ing the net at their grandfather's side, fancying that they were materially aiding his part of the work. John MacBeth was not the bent old man he had been five years before ; he was strong and hearty noAV. The return of his sons had infused new life into him, and since the twin baby-bovs came, nearly three years since, he had been a busy and impprtant man. It was he Avho had to decide on the names the boys were to be called.

Their father could not tell what names they should get, and Katie said : " Grandfather kent best about names ; the3e were not the first bairns he had named ; all she wanted was that one of them should be called John, and grandfather could decide which was to bear his name, and what the other would be called." And old John had to speak to the minister about the baptism. Robby said — He didna ken what to say, grandfather would need to go." B* WHTTE BEAR. It was a serious thing that of naming the boys. John Mac- Beth said, he didna wonder the young folks wouldna tak it on themsels ; a man's name would follow him a' his days. It wa3 true he had to name a' his ain bairns, a' the nine o' them, himsel' and Jannet, but he had nae father, his father was drooned in the North sea when he, John, was a lad."

" Robby and Katie," the old man said, " didna ken ony o' the trouble o' a married life yet ; when they were contracted it was he that had to see the contract made, and to bring it hame and read it and see that it was a' right before Robby and Katie signed it, no that Robby couldna do't himsel'. Oh no, he took good care o' that, and sent baith the boys to the nicht school for twa winters after they came hame fae the whaling. They had baith plenty o' book learning." When the marriage came on, it was he that_had to speak to the minister, and bid the neighbours to the wedding ; now he had to name the bairns, and to please Katie he called one John MacBeth ; the other, to please them all, he called Eric Goodbrand, the name of Katie's father, his old friend and ship mate, who Harry Watson had helped to bury twenty years ago in a far island of the West lying below the setting sun, where the spice and palm trees watch over his place of rest, and the winds wander balmy, and the waves come wandering gently over the golden sand, keeping company to the old sea man in that lone grave so far from his kindred.

But to return to the boys. They were so much alike, that previous to the christening the old man had to spend half a day in Peterstown, searching for a necklace of yellow amber for the one, and red coral for the other, " no beads but these," he said, " would do for a seaman's child." When the boys grew strong and could run about, they would take off their necklaces although forbidden often. Eric's coral necklace was lost for THE LINKS. 7 tAvo days. The old man and Katie did little else all the time but search for it, and then they decided the beads were too precious to be risked like that, they would be heirlooms in the house. And then began a new trouble for the old fisher man. No one hut grandfather could tell Avhich was Eric, and which was John, so as he said, " lest anything should happen to him, he would put a mark on each child's arm, on Eric a cross, and on John an anchor."

Before the twins came, except to go to the church, John MacBeth had not been in the seatown for years, but now he had to go every day, and the little rogues well kneAv what he went for ; and when they saw him coming down the braes, no matter whether it was rain or shine, there they were, the chubby fellows with their stumpy fat legs, striving which would reach him first ; although they well knew they would not get one hit of the gingerbread until he reached the house ; then it was laid on the table and cut in two halves. Latterly the gingerbread had all the letters in the alphabet raised on it, and the little men were made to tell each letter after grandfather ere they could obtain leave to eat the piece on which the letter rested. There was another baby now, only three months old, in the cradle, just within the door ; Katie and grandfather could see her from where they sat.

When the little girl came, grandfather did not ask what her name was to be, nor did he speak of it, and no one inquired, but when the minister asked for the name, and the old man whispered to his son " Innes Dundas," Katie's tears fell fast, and she clasped her baby to her breast with a new love. The fisher folk wondered at such a name. There were none among the MacBeths or the Goodbrands of that name ; what could the old man mean ? The baby stirred in the cradle and Katie brought her out to the sunny hillock where grandfather sat mending his nets. They both gazed with admiring looks on her blue eyes and fair skin, the inheritance of her Norse grandfather, and each impelled by the same train of thought raised their eyes simultaneously to the huge bulk of the Elfin kirk looming between them and the sky.

And then they thought and spoke of an other whose eyes were as blue, and whose long fair hair was well remembered by the old man ; and they said : " How strange that although Katie wrote so often, no letter ever came in return, for two years back, until last week when those few lines were received, complaining of many letters unanswered, and ending with those terrible words, entering the hearts of the old man and young woman like a barbed arrow as they read : " Katie, I am very poor." That letter was answered the very day it came and money put into it, but how could they know the fair face it was in tended for would ever see it. They had only one address, that to Miss Murray's in George street, and the letters sent there during the two years they now knew had never been returned. The old man rose and entering the house, returned almost im mediately with an almanac, and seating himself began turning over its pages ; having found the object of his search, he said : " It is just five years the nicht since her father was killed.

I used never to forget this day, but somehow the last year •.or tAva it has shpt frae my mind." He looked again in the direction ofthe Elfin Kirk, saying in detached sentences, as if thinking aloud rather than speaking : " Whare can that puir bairn be ? may the Lord help her, it was nae ordinar trouble that made her write thae words, gin it had been a sma thing, she wad hae said mair about it." The old man withdrew his eyes from the rocks where they had been fixed steadily for the last ten minutes, and gazing THE LINKS. on the bare cut grass at his feet with a vacant stare, he clasped his hands and repeated over in a low tone, " Katie, I am very poor." " I dare say, I dare say," continued he, repeating his words twice, " and its an awfu' thing to be poor in a great city like Embro. God help us, we whiles little ken what them 'at's far aAva' suffers, or what death they'll dee ?"

They both sat for some time wrapt in silent thought ; at last the old man said in a low confidential tone as if fearful that the birds of the air might carry the matter : " Katie, I've aften thought thae twa three days o' gaen to Embro to seek her, an jist fessen her hame to bide wi' oursels till the blast 'at's on her the noo blaws ower ?" " I dinna ken, Pilot," said Katie, speaking in a half-doubt ing voice and answering as if she had been asked a question, " ye're an auld man noo to gang to a thrang place like Edinbro, an a' unca folk, but what Avad ye think gin Robby or Willie war to gang ?" The old man smiled grimly as he replied : " Oh ! Katie, ye dinna ken muckle o' the fashions o' this Avarld, an hoo could ye, 'at was never farer aff than Peterstown ; that's the way wi' the wemen folk, they're never fae hame, an' only ken what's roun their ain fire side, but I've been mony a lang voyage to the East Indies, an been aften through the town o' Culcutta, whare ye see black men 'at's richer than Provest Robb, an mair changes o' men's dress in a day than ye wad see in Peterstown gin ye lived to the age o' Methusalem, but that's nae what we're speekin about ; do ye think a young lady hke her wad come aff her leafu lane wi' ane o' thae chaps o' ours ?

Na, na," added he, hastily, " she has mair pride than that, she wadna lift a fit to come wi' ane o' them ; gin ony body gangs it 'ill need to be mysel." " Maybe her man wadna lat her come," said Katie. " Maybe her man's nae ower gude till her, an gin I gang for her an' see ony thing I dinna like, maybe I wadna speir his leave," was the reply. " An for my age that's naething, I'm no that auld, I'm only three score an fifteen last Whit sunday ; my grandfather was four score an twal, an he never missed a day at the Kirk, foul or fair, or took a staff in his han' to gang wi'." The old man seemed again lost in thought, — presently he rose and taking the almanac with him went towards the cottage, saying to himself as he walked along, " Vera little Avad gar me gang." John MacBeth could not rest in the cottage or about the door as usual.

Katie saw that he needed employment to divert his thoughts and she must find it for him. " I say, grandfather, maybe the mistress wad hae Miss Innes' right address, gin ye had time to gang for 't, an gin Ave had it here I wad write to her again the nicht." " I hae plenty o' time," said the old man starting up as if Katie had put his own thoughts into words. " I'll redd mysel' up in ten minutes, but gin I'm ga'en a message to Captain Young's lady ye'll need to gie me ane o' thae kippers to tak i' my han ; I dinna like to gang to gentle folks' houses empty handed." The kippered salmon, the best in the house, was tied up in an old newspaper ; John MacBeth dressed in a clean striped shirt, a suit of sailor's blue cloth without a spot, and with the kipper under his arm was on the narrow winding road up the braes leading to Peterstown in less than half an hour.

He was very graciously received by Mrs. Young in the breakfast parlour, and duly presented with a seat, an honour which would not have been accorded to every one in the Pilot's rank, the lady having observed him from the window MISS MARGARET. 11 ooming up the drive bearing what she well knew was the brother of the fine salmon he had brought her on a former occasion. Miss Margaret, who was in the parlour, stared at the old man as he entered, as if she would ask who he was, and what could account for his assurance in coming there ; this evi" Gently disconcerted the fisherman for a moment, but resuming his usual composure of manner, he delivered his present with ** Katie's duty to her mistress," and inquired for each mem ber of the family by name ; he now asked when she had heard from Mrs. Laud ?

" Last week," replied the lady, " but indeed — ," she stopped short, and looked confused ; Miss Margaret changed her stolid look at once and came to the rescue, saying ; " We do not often hear from Mrs. Laud, but when we last heard she was well." " Katie has her respecks,. an she'll be muckle obleeged gin ye'U tak the trouble to write Mrs. Laud's address on a bit paper," said the fisherman. The address was written out by Miss Margaret and deU vered to the Pilot ; he put on his spectacles and read, " care of Miss Murray, George street." There was a disappointment ; there was nothing for it but to go home as wise as he had come out. " I'm come back as I gaed," said the old man handing the paper with the address towards Katie as he entered. " Wha did ye see ?" " Mrs. Young hersel' an Miss Marget ; Mrs. Young was Tera civil, but I'm thinkin Miss Marget didna ken me, she looket as gin I awed her a half year's rent whan I gaed in."

Katie's dark eyes flashed fire instantly, " Miss Margaret ■did nae ken ye ? nae, weel than, what neist ? She did na ken John MacBeth the Pilot, at's as well kent in Peterstown as the Town Pump ! She kent ye well aneuch, as weel's I dae, it wasna 'at she didna ken ye, 'at ailed her, bit she jist thought 'at it wad be vera genteel and like a lady tae lat on 'at she didna ken ye ; but she's muckle mista'en there, as she is in mony anither thing ; gin she had been a rale leddy she wadna hae deen that, bit it's nae a' gentle blood 'at rins in Miss Marget's veins ; we a' ken that Mrs. Young is a rale leddy, an sae was a' her folk, but for Captain Young, his father was naething bit a south country drover 'at made a loke o' siller, sellin sheep an' nowt to the English, an' Miss Dundas wad never marret the like o' him, bit she was wearin to be an auld lass ; she cracket the half crown twa three year afore she saw him, or else my certy she wad never hae been Mrs. Young."

Katie paused to take breath, which in her anger at the insult she fancied was meant for her father-in-law, she had almost forgot, and then resumed with a gesture of impatience, " Oh, Miss Marget, she's aye at her lees, whan she has nae ca' tae tell them wi' her tongue she maun be at them wi' her een." Alas how many of the would-be great indulge in this false hood of the eye, passing with an assumed unconscious look, or averted face, the acquaintance of former years, because his coat is threadbare or his hat shabby. In a woman, with the present system of flimsy education for her sex, and consequently undeveloped intellect, this is simply contemptible ; in a man it is below contempt. It is indeed pitiable that a man who by steady conduct and honest industry has gained sufficient money to enable him to be a benefactor to his kind, should set no higher store by his talents or the fortune he has acquired than to devote both to buying the acquaintance of TRUTH 13 Ensign Fitzdoodle, or Major Snooks ; both of whom amuse their leizure hours by mimicing the vulgar manners of their entertainers, and the unsuccessful attempts to ape the habits of those who move in a sphere of society they have been un accustomed to, and are hence totally unfitted for.

Would that such men would learn, that in order to deserve and " bear without rebuke the grand old name of gentleman," it is essen tial that they cultivate truth in its integrity, and moral purity, without which the highest reason is clouded, and the strongest intellectual faculties are liable to perversion. Until this pure truth of mind and soul be attained, an im penetrable cloud must oppress the spiritual sense, fostering a skepticism that no evidence can allay. The universe cannot be seen in its higher departments and nobler relations except by the purely true. The power of dividing in our own souls the true from the false, and adhering with unfaltering firmness to what is morally true and pure, more than any thing else, forms the condition on which our elevation to a perfect manhood depends ; it is this faculty which produces the feeling of honour or self-respect, and this, when guided by the right spirit and principle, becomes one of the strongest safeguards and best elements of a true man.

It is this sense which decides what conduct is becoming a rational, responsible being, endowed with an immortal soul ; forbids falsehood in deed as much as in word, the demoral izing doctrine of expediency, every form of dishonesty, and repudiates every subterfuge of selfishness. Possessing this sen timent of unbending moral self-respect, we are richer and mightier than a host of those who, lacking this, have the silver and gold of the world at their command. This will lead us to estimate our position by our mental and moral attainments, and not by any social consideration awarded us. There is no* one so truly grand as he who is governed by this quality of the true man ; and he who would be one of God's noblemen must cultivate this sentiment of honour, and never violate the sense ■of moral self-respect, ever remembering that nothing is so precious as rectitude ; whUe a lie, a dishonest trick, a wrong action, anywhere, for any inducement, is a clinging curse.

Oh, that our moneyed men would follow the example set them largely by the noble men in the United States, where men give princely fortunes, not waiting until the day comes when each must go down to the grave, where perforce, he must leave his treasured dross of earth where it was accumulated, but whUe they are yet hving, among those who bless their shadow as they pass. One man gives hundreds of thousands to buhd homes which are worthy of the name of home, such as a clerk or mechanic can afford to pay rent for. Another endows a Public Library ; a third a Boys' Home, and so on. Scarcely a town of any importance in which there are not one or more of such princely endowments. I shrink from the word charity so common among us. It is no charity, nor is it viewed as such by the uncrowned kings who give their means for such purposes.

It is simply one man giving part of the abundance the Great All Father has given him, to his younger or poorer brethren. While writing the words, " a Boys' Home," the solemn question forced itself upon my own soul, how will each man and woman among us in this city answer to the God who made us all, for the hundreds of homeless orphan boys, who wander all day, begging, selling newspapers, or it may be steal ing, that they may eat, and when night comes, " going," as they themselves express it, " anywhere they will be allowed to go, — to a night refuge, a pohce office, or the jail !" where hud dled together, with groAvn men, the very refuse of society, they each night learn a new phase of iniquity, another obscene idea, RESPONSIBILITY. 15 another oath. How would each mother among us shrink with horror at the idea of her own boys being subjected to the contagion of such companionship, and yet who can teU what is hid in the future for those little ones who are now around our knees, and whom in our very heart of hearts we love so dearly, that we feel we could do and dare forever for ; whom we would shield from such pollution at the risk of life itself ; but all this wealth of love may be quite impotent to save them from such a fate.

It may be true at the present moment that there is no fear of such for them ; their father is young and strong ; he is also rich, he has a good business, houses and land, bank shares, many friends, and the fond mother clasps her babies to her breast with the full assurance that for her be loved ones there can be no such dread future. But a few short years pas3, and just when his boys need him most, the strong young father is laid down to sleep under those green pine boughs up on the mountain. The business is in disorder, it is wound up ; some one makes a little money out of it, but for the mother and her children there is nothing. And soon after, at midnight, there is a great cry, Fire, Fire, and the flames seem to reach the heavens. The houses are gone, and on the morrow it is found the insurance has lapsed weeks before.

Another short span of time, and the widow takes her little son by the hand and goes that she may draw the half-yearly dividend of the bank stock, which is now her sole dependence. Woe on Avoe, — the bank has failed, there is nothing to draw. And the poor mother goes home sick in body and crushed in spirit, aud that night her two eldest children are awoke by the poor crazed mother calling aloud — u John, John, why do you stay so long ? Come home, come home." And long ere the dawn her spirit passed in that wild dream, and she too was laid down soundly sleeping beneath the pine boughs. And the five children, all under nine years of age, what of them ? They had friends on this continent, and kindred in distant Europe. All were applied to and all refused the responsibility of adopting even one of the children.

Reader, this is no fancy sketch, but the simple truth, and as the like may befaU the children of each one of us, may God help us to realize the startling fact that we are in very deed " our brother's keeper." That if we see not to it that those orphan boys are clothed and fed, and are brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, they may perish in their iniquity, but their blood wiU God require at our hands. That night John MacBeth had a troubled sleep, disturbed by wild dreams ; at last to shake off those fancies of the night he sat up in bed, throAving off part of the bed clothes. It was very dark, he could distinguish the window from the wall and that was all. His face was turned in the direction ofthe window, and he sat looking out into the darkness for several minutes. A loud tap on the window glass, as if given by the joint of a man's finger, startled him, the sound seeming to enter his bones and marrow, the hair of his flesh stood on end, large drops of cold perspiration rolled from his forehead ; for the first time in his life he knew what _ fear was, yet he knew Avhere his help was also, and he was about to demand who was there, in the name of the Lord, when a voice he knew well? although heard by him only once, and that years ago, called in the same clear ringing tone as it had then done, " John MacBeth, arise from your bed and seek the young girl you rescued from the waves in the Elfin Kirk."

The old man's fear was gone, — and reverently removing his worsted nightcap from his head, he answered in a strong voice, which sounded JOHN MACBETH. in his own surprised ear, as the same he had used in his manhood : " By God's help so I will." In a few minutes he was half dressed, and out at the end of the cottage looking towards the sea; and there, far out, opposite Black Pots, seven miles off, was distinctly seen the steamer's light, making for Peterstown Bay. A second or two more, John MacBeth had struck a light, and was standing by Katie's bedside. " Katie, my bairn, are ye sleepin' ?" " No, is that you, grandfather ? What's the maiter, are ye no weel ?" " I never was better in a' my life. Rise, Katie, and put twa three sarks an' stockins, an' my Sabbath claes thegether, I maun be aff to Embro the nicht, Avi' the steamer, to seek that lassie."

" The steamer 's passed twa hour, sine, grandfather ! " " She's nae that ; she's fair foment Black Pots the noo ; an' Katie," said the old man in a solemn voice, " the same man 'at came for me to tak' Miss Innes out o' the Elfin Kirk came the nicht and bade me seek her again." And he told her of the knock that had appalled his heart, and of the voice and Avords which imparted strength and gave purpose to his soul, adding, " I hae voAved to the Lord to seek her, an' I'll gang an' fulfill my vow." Katie's husband, who had been awoke by the conversation between his father and Katie, and was a silent listener to what the old man last said, now observed, " Father, ye've likely dreamed it a'." " No, I didna dream ae word o't," said the old man, in a strong determined voice, " nae mair than I dreamed the nicht I ga'ed to the Elfin Kirk ; rise Robby an' waken Willie to man the boat 'at 'ill fess me to the steamer."

John Macbeth returned to his own room, dressed himself in the blue suit he had worn the previous day on his visit to Peterstown ; and unlocking his money drawer took there from a leathern purse, put gold into one end, and sUver in the other ; lastly putting the purse so filled into an inner pocket in the bosom of his capacious vest ; ere he had completed his arrangements his eldest son was by his side. " Father," said he, " the steamer is sure enough makin' for the bay, something strange has happened to keep her so lang behind her time, an' no a wave on the sea, or a cap fu' o' wind ; she should hae been here three hours ago ; lat me gang to Edinburgh in your place, father, WiUie will easy get some of the idle lads frae the seatown to gang to the fishin' wi' him. I'll be less missed out o' the house than you, an' I'm stronger to gang through the streets an' seek the young lady; fear nae, but I'll bring her hame gin she's willin' to come."

" Na, Robby, ye're a better fisher noo than I am ; there Avas anither day o't ; I was ance 'at I wad row a boat wi' ony man in the seatown ; but ye canna dae the wark at I'm gaen on the nicht, you or anither ; gin it had been sae, I wadna hae gotten it to dae. Them at came for me, kent better than you or me either wha to send on his errand. Gang awa noo an' help Willie out wi' the boat, I'se warrant the steamer's near han." Jean Guibran was about and making preparations with the rest, but to the surprise of all she offered no objections to her master's departure, saying very quietly, "That the ane that sent him out wad fess him hame as he did afore." While the other members of his family were busying them selves for his departure, the old fisherman went into the room where his three grandchildren lay in their rosy sleep, stoop ing over their couches he kissed and blessed each in succes- JOHN MACBETH. sion, and this done he knelt doAvn and prayed that should he never return, the God whom he had served all his life long would give grace to their father to bring up these children in His ways and to His glory.