[Canadian West 01] - When Calls the Heart (5 page)

BOOK: [Canadian West 01] - When Calls the Heart
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I could only nod my agreement, too spellbound to speak. I
turned my head to glance hack over the way that we had just
come. We had climbed steadily as we left downtown Calgary.
Jonathan's home must be up on a hill rather than in the valley
beside the river.

As I looked back down the street, I could see the buildings
of Calgary stretched out across the flatness of the valley.
Water sparkled in many places, reflecting the afternoon sun. I
looked in awe at the scene and finally found my voice.

"The river-it seems to twist and turn all around. Everywhere I look, there seems to be another part of the stream."

Jonathan laughed. "There are two rivers that merge down
there. They're called the Bow and the Elbow."

"Unusual names."

"Yes, I guess they are. You'll find a number of strange
names in the West."

I smiled. "Well," I conceded, "I will admit that we have
our share of strange names in the East, too."

Jonathan nodded, a grin spreading over his face, and I
could almost see names like Trois-Rivieres and Cap-de-laMadelaine flitting across his mind.

"Tell me about Calgary." I just couldn't wait to learn
something about this intriguing town.

Jonathan gave me an understanding smile.

"Where do I start?" he asked himself. "Calgary was founded as a fort for the North West Mounted Police in 1875-not so
long ago, really. It was first named Fort Brisehois, but Macleod, the commander, didn't care much for that name. I guess.
He renamed her Fort Calgary-this is a Gaelic word, meaning
clear, running water-after his birthplace in Scotland."

"Clear, running water," I repeated. "I like it. It suits it
well."

I looked again at the portions of the rivers that gleamed between the buildings and the thick tree growth of the valley.

Jonathan continued, "After the railroad was built in 1883,
people began to take seriously the settling of the West. It was
such easier to load one's belongings on a train than it had
been to venture overland by wagon. And with the train, the women were even able to bring with them some of the finer
things of life that previously had to remain behind.

"In the earlier days mostly adventurers or opportunists
moved westward, and though a fair share of those still came,
many dedicated men and women arrived each year hoping to
make a home for themselves in this new land."

"It was still difficult, wasn't it?" I questioned.

"Fortunately for us, the Mounties got here before the bulk
of the settlers. The new people at least had law to appeal to if
the need arose-and the need often did. The Indians had already learned that the Red Coat could be trusted-that a lawbreaker, no matter the color of his skin, would be brought to
justice. The Mounties helped to make Calgary, and the area
around it, a safe place for women and children."

"That doesn't sound like the West which Julie told me
about."

"Oh, we've had our skirmishes, to be sure, but they've
been few and far between; and the North West Mounted Police have been able to restore control rather quickly."

"Have the Indians been that bothersome?" I asked, wondering if Julie had been right after all.

"Indians? Can't rightly blame the Indians. Most of the
trouble comes from the makers of fire-water."

"Fire-water?"

"Whiskey. Well, I guess it can't really be called whiskey,
either. It was known more often as-pardon me, please-as
`rot-gut.' It had an alcohol base, but the brewers threw in
about everything they could find to give it taste and colorpepper, chewing tobacco, almost anything. Don't know how
anyone could drink the stuff, but some braves sold furs, their
ponies-even at times a squaw-just to get hold of a few bottles."

"That's terrible!"

"It ruined many of the choicest young Indian men. Threatened whole tribes, at times. Some of the chiefs saw the danger
and hated the rotten stuff, but they were hard put to control
its evil. Wicked, horrible stuff! A real disgrace to the white
men who peddled it at the expense of wasted, human lives." Jonathan shook his head, and I could tell that the previous
trade of illegal liquor disturbed him greatly.

"Anyway," he continued, brightening, "the North West
Mounted Police were organized, found their way west in spite
of extreme hardship, and went right to work on the problem.
Their first big job was to clean up Fort Whoop-Up."

"Whoop-Up," I chuckled. "That's even stranger than Elbow. Is that around here?"

"Doesn't even exist anymore. It was in Southern Alberta
about six miles from where Lethbridge is now located. They
say the things that went on there would make your hair curl.
Old Johnny Healy operated the place, and his vile concoction
could purchase about anything he wanted. One cup of his
whiskey would buy him a choice buffalo robe. Old Johnny
made himself rich. He gathered together a group of rascals
with like leanings-rum-runners, wolvers, law-dodgers, and
the like. He built himself a nice little fort for them all to flock
together in. Nobody knows exactly how many were living
there; in fact, the estimates seem to vary a lot, but, at any
rate, it seems that there were too many. At times they went
too far, drank their own whiskey and went on the rampage. It
was some of the wolvers who eventually brought the whole
thing to an end. They were led by a man who had, somewhere
in his past, developed a real hatred for the Indians. He had already shown his hostility on more than one occasion. When a
few bucks made off with his ponies, it wasn't enough for him to
try to get his horses back. Instead, he used it as an excuse to
start shooting. He and his men murdered several Indians at a
place called Cypress Hills-they didn't seem to care that
those Indians weren't even of the same tribe as the horse
thieves."

"Was nothing done?"

"Word got back East, along with an urgent appeal to
Prime Minister Sir John A. McDonald. He sped up the organization of the new police force for the West and sent them out
as quickly as possible. That's why the North West Mounted
Police were hurried westward."

"To bring justice, law and order to the West?"

"Right! From the start they had their work cut out for
them. One of their jobs was to gain the confidence and respect
of the Indians. After what had been happening between the
Indians and the whites, you can believe that job wasn't any
small task. But they managed it. The white offenders were
brought to trial, and the Indians began to see that they had
friends in the Force who wore red coats.

"The motto of the new Force was `Maintien le Droit''Uphold the Right,' and they worked hard and long to accomplish just that."

"And the Indians did learn to accept them?" I asked.

"I guess Red Crow, the head chief of the Blackfoot Nation,
sort of summed it up when he signed the treaty of 1877. This
wise and cunning old man was speaking of Macleod at the
time, but the same could have been said about the other commanders of the Force as well. Red Crow said, `He has made
many promises, and kept them all.' "

I had sat motionless, listening to Jonathan. What if Julie
had been there to hear him? Thanks to all of the romantic notions with which she had filled her mind, she would be swooning at the very possibility of meeting one of the West's great
heroes in red! Even with my more practical outlook, I was
stirred by this background on the Mounties and their part in
Canadian history. Certainly many men and women-not to
mention a nation-owed them a great debt of gratitude. I added my thanks to the already lengthy list, then promptly shifted my thoughts to the present, content to place the North
West Mounted Police back in history where I felt they belonged.

"How much farther?" I asked Jonathan.

"I must confess," he answered with a twinkle in his eye, "I
have taken you on the scenic route. We could have been home
several minutes ago, but I just couldn't wait to show you
our-" He stopped in mid-sentence and looked at me with
concern. "You must be tired, Elizabeth. I'm afraid my enthusiasm was ill-timed."

"Oh, no. I'm fine. I've truly enjoyed it," I quickly assured
him. "It's all so new and so different, I'm-"

".Just one more thing, and I'll hurry you home-Mary will
have my hide anyway. She's so anxious to meet you, and so
are the children."

We topped a hill, and there before us was the most beautiful scene that I had ever beheld. I had seen glimpses of the
mountains as the train rolled toward Calgary, but the panorama which lay before me now was indescribable. The mountains seemed near enough to smell the tang of the crisp air and
feel the freshness of the winds. I didn't say anything. I
couldn't. I sat and looked and loved every minute of it. Jonathan was pleased. He loved the mountains; I could sense that.

"That," he said at length, "is why I would never want to
leave the West."

"It's beautiful beyond description," I finally managed to
say, exhilaration springing up within like a fountain. To live
and move and work in the shadow of those awe-inspiring
mountains was more than I had ever dreamed of. A little
prayer welled up within me, Thank you, God, for the unexpected. Thank you for pushing me out of my secure nest.

All too soon, it seemed, Jonathan turned the automobile
around, and headed us down the hill and back into town.

 
Chapter Five
Family

Mary was waiting at the door when we pulled up in front of
the house and she ran to meet me as I stepped down from the
auto. She pulled me into a warm embrace almost before my
feet had a chance to properly settle on the ground. I was glad
for the enthusiastic welcome and immediately felt I was with
family.

I studied the woman who was Jonathan's wife, my sisterin-law. A wealth of reddish-brown hair was scooped rather casually in a pinned-up style. Curly wisps of it teased about her
face and neck, giving her a girlish look. Her green eyes sparked
with merriment and her full mouth produced the warmest of
smiles. I smiled in return.

"Oh, Elizabeth," she exclaimed, "it is so good to meet
you!"

"And you, Mary," I returned. "You are just as Jonathan
described vou."

She hurried me toward the house to meet the children
while Jonathan busied himself in gathering up my belongings.

We passed right through the main hall and out a hack door
to a shaded yard that seemed to be filled with shouting, wiggling small bodies. These were my nieces and nephew. At once
they made a dash for me; they were not at all reserved or inhibited. It did appear that they believed the coming of an aunt
was a great event.

When Mary had restored order, I was able to meet each
one of them in a quieter fashion.

At eight, William, the eldest, looked like Jonathan except
that his hair had a reddish tinge which he had inherited from
Mary. Sarah, six, was small and dainty; if any of the offspring
could have been deemed retiring, Sarah would have been the
one. Kathleen was next. This four-year-old looked like she
should have been a boy; mischief sparkled out of her intensely
blue eyes, and her pixie face was always fixed in a grin. Baby
Elizabeth, named for my mother, had only recently joined the
family and was much too young to take part in the present
merry-making. She slept through the whole commotion.

After a quick tour of the house, the evening meal was
served, and we gathered around the table. Jonathan believed
that the family should share this special time of day, and so
the children joined us at the table. As I watched them clamber
into chairs. I wondered just what Mother would have thought
of the whole event. In our home, children, even quiet, wellmannered ones, did not join the adults at the table until they
had passed their twelfth, or at the earliest, tenth birthday.

Jonathan's children proved to be well-behaved in spite of
their high spirits, and we adults were able to converse, uninterrupted by childish outbursts. It was obvious that they had
been instructed well as to how to conduct themselves. Maybe
it is wise to start them young at the family dinner table, I decided as I watched them. I did wonder as I studied Kathleen
just how long she would be able to sit primly like a little lady.
She looked like a miniature volcano about to erupt.

The meal, served by a maid named Stacy. was absolutely
delicious. I was embarrassed at the amount of food I ate..Jon-
athan assured me that the crisp air affected one's appetite; I
was glad to have something to blame it on.

"I'm so glad that you could come a few days early," Mary
said. "Now we have opportunity to get to know you before you
commence your teaching duties. We do want to show you
around, and-" she added with a twinkle in her eye, "to show
you off."

I smiled at her.

"Indeed," teased Jonathan, "I have a whole list of young
men waiting to meet you. I finally gave up trying to keep track of who was to be first. I told them that they would just have to
stand in line and wait their turn, but I'm afraid ..."

My cheeks grew warm and I interrupted Jonathan before
he could go on. "I'm quite happy to meet your friends," I announced firmly, "but I do want to make one thing clear: I
came west to teach, not to wed. Had I been interested in
matrimony, I could have staved in the East and found an acceptable spouse. Julie, who by the way is our family expert on
the subject, assures me that the men of the West are adventurers-undependable, rough and rowdy. I don't know if her research is totally reliable, but I've no intention of finding out. If
you want a wife for one of your friends, you'd best bring out
Julie. She'll be more than willing to consider the possibility. I?
Never! "

It was a rather long speech under the circumstances, and
the faces of the listeners changed from unbelief, to concern, to
amusement. When I finished, I saw Jonathan steal a glance at
Mary to see if she considered me serious. She gave him a barely visible nod, and he understood her to mean that I was. He
cleared his throat, then waited a moment.

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