Settlement. Ann Birch

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СКАЧАТЬ tried to use the knife and fork that had been placed at each setting, but then they took out their own knives from the deerskin slings that they wore across their shoulders. Apart from a tendency to impale the ham on the end of these knives, their manners were good.

      “Their restraint is remarkable,” Mr. Jarvis said, speaking quietly into Anna’s ear, “especially when one considers how hungry they must be.” In a normal voice, he added, “We are on our way to the Governor to ask for rations of food and a supply of blankets. My companions have walked over the snow a distance of eighty miles, and not one of them has eaten for two days.”

      “You forget, Nehkik, that I have an excellent meal with you this morning.” Jacob Snake took a clean, but much worn, square of cotton from his beaded pouch and wrapped his bread and meat in it. He paused for a moment, looked at Anna, who nodded approval, and continued his folding of the cloth around the food. He passed his tankard of beer to his father, Chief Snake.

      Anna turned her attention back to Mr. Jarvis. “I have some questions to ask while I have you here with your party. But I am fearful of giving offence through my ignorance.”

      “I am happy,” Jacob said, overhearing her comment. “Not often does white man show an interest in our ways.”

      So she asked about the making of the beautiful porcupine-quill baskets she had seen in the local shops, about their sacred scrolls, about the use of birchbark in their canoes, about their attitude to the white settlers, and about whether they were forced to take Christian oaths in a courtroom. While Jacob responded, he turned occasionally to speak to his father in his own language, apparently to check the veracity of his comments to her. The old man seemed pleased to take part in the discussion.

      “And I must caution you, ma’am,” Mr. Jarvis said, “not to lump all Indians together under one category, as so many people do. There is as much difference between the customs and language of, let us say, the Chippewa and Mohawk nations, as there is between the French and the English.”

      He looked at his pocket watch and rose, laying his hand on Anna’s arm and drawing her aside. “Time for our visit to the Governor. I do not know what our reception will be, and we must not keep the Great One waiting. Governor Colborne always looked on the natives as a problem to be solved, and I fear that our new man will be no better. Worse, in fact. I’ve heard that the common appellation bestowed upon him is Governor Bone Head.” He smiled, and Anna noticed again the attractive dimple in his left cheek. “But of course, you must repeat nothing of what I say, especially to my wife, who worries about my lack of discretion.” He shook hands. “Good day, ma’am. I hope you now have new insights. And perhaps I should tell you that Jacob is in mourning for his wife. That’s why he has blackened his face.”

      In parting, Chief Snake said something to her which Jacob translated as, “The blessing of the Great Spirit be on you and your house.” Elijah White Deer held out his hand to her, and in a moment’s impulse, she unhooked her wampum bag from her belt and gave it to him. He held it aloft for a moment, smiled and put it immediately into his deerskin sling.

      Last to leave was Jacob. Anna stretched out her right hand and touched his sleeve. “May you find happiness in the New Year.”

      “Thank you,” Jacob said. “You and Nehkik are good people. Not often I find good white people. Only sometimes.”

      Who was Nehkik? Anna wondered. And then she remembered. It was Mr. Jarvis, of course. Jacob had called him by that name earlier. And this “Nehkik” had actually asked her to keep a secret from his wife. What was she to think of that?

      Mrs. Hawkins came forward as soon as the front door closed behind the guests. “Oh, ma’am, it be so exciting. Never have I seen a savage inside a white man’s house before. Only at the door when they swap salmon for butter.”

      “Perhaps we ought not to call them savages, Mrs. Hawkins. They were anything but savage in their demeanour and their manners at table.” She thought of her silly letter to Ottilie. Perhaps she could get it back and tear it up. “Has your husband already gone to the post office with my letter?”

      “Oh yes, ma’am, it most likely be on the mail sleigh for Kingston by now.”

      So the damage was done. She had made a few bad jokes at the expense of people she knew nothing about. She was as bad as Mrs. Powell with her ignorant attitude towards the serving classes. She remembered the woman’s dismissive remarks about her maid’s pregnancy. Well, she would correct herself in her next letter to Ottilie.

ELEVEN

      On New Year’s Day, Anna and Robert stood at the entrance to their drawing room and waited for the door knocker to sound. Robert pulled out his gold pocket watch several times, while Anna tried not to look at herself in the wide mirror which she had installed over the mantel.

      Because Mrs. Hawkins did not know how to dress hair, Anna had fussed with curl papers to produce the ringlets that now clustered on her forehead. She would not have bothered with this silliness in Europe, but here in Toronto she wanted to achieve an utterly feminine look to persuade the gentlemen at the levee that she was the perfect little woman.

      Robert, she was pleased to note, looked every inch the Attorney-General-soon-to-be-Chancellor, or so they both hoped. With his black morning coat and black cravat, he had donned a new pair of fine striped trousers and leather shoes with laces instead of buckles.

      “You look well, Anna,” Robert said, studying their images in the glass. “Not pretty, in the conventional sense of the word, but well enough. Your red dress might have been an unfortunate choice with your red hair, but happily it sets off your complexion to advantage.”

      “Qualified praise indeed, Robert, but I thank you. And how pleasant it would be if you could say something at least as commendatory about the house.”

      “An improvement, my dear, and well worth the considerable expenditure. But why are those ugly black buckets at the front door? I noticed them there before, but now that you’ve put down that new carpet, they stand out like pustules on a pretty face.”

      “They’re fire buckets. Mrs. Hawkins said they can’t be removed. It’s the law, since there are no fire brigades in this place.”

      “But what on earth are they for?”

      “When the church bells sound the knell for a fire, we take these buckets and run to the lake. Everyone must volunteer in these situations, apparently. Have you not heard this before, Robert?”

      “Perhaps, but I doubt the magistrates can enforce participation. At any rate, I leave these things to the servants.”

      Anna had rented livery for Hawkins, and he seemed pleased with the effect. She’d heard him say to his wife earlier in the day, “We’ve moved up the ladder since the missus arrived.” Now he stood by the front door, ready to take the visitors’ coats and usher them up to the head of the stairs where she and Robert waited.

      By noon, the door-knocker sounded like the drumming of a drunken Scotsman the evening after the parade. It was a strictly male affair, the idea being that the men of the town spent the day paying their respects to the ladies. By two o’clock, some forty gentlemen had come and gone. These were all young men in hordes—or was it herds?—of nine or ten at a time. They came in, bowed, sat down in the drawing room for two minutes, got up, bowed again, and left without saying a word or taking a bite of food. Most of them Anna had not seen before, and her husband made little attempt to introduce СКАЧАТЬ