Her
eyes were blue, and her hair as near golden as human tresses well
could be. Exercise, a life of change, and of dwelling much in the
open air, had given to this unusually charming girl not only health,
but its appearance. Still, she was in no respect coarse, or had
anything in the least about her that indicated her being accustomed
to toil, with some slight exception in her hands, perhaps, which
were those of a girl who did not spare herself, when there was an
opportunity to be of use. In this particular, the vagrant life of
her brother had possibly been of some advantage to her, as it had
prevented her being much employed in the ordinary toil of her
condition in life. Still, Margery Waring had that happy admixture of
delicacy and physical energy, which is, perhaps, oftener to be met
in the American girl of her class, than in the girl of almost any
other nation; and far oftener than in the young American of her sex,
who is placed above the necessity of labor.
As a stranger approached her, the countenance of this fair creature
expressed both surprise and satisfaction; surprise that any one
should have been met by Gershom, in such a wilderness, and
satisfaction that the stranger proved to be a white man, and
seemingly one who did not drink.
"You are Blossom," said the bee-hunter, taking the hand of the half-
reluctant girl, in a way so respectful and friendly that she could
not refuse it, even while she doubted the propriety of thus
receiving an utter stranger—"the Blossom of whom Gershom Waring
speaks so often, and so affectionately?"
"You are, then, my brother's friend," answered Margery, smiling so
sweetly, that le Bourdon gazed on her with delight. "We are SO glad
that he has come back! Five terrible nights have sister and I been
here alone, and we have believed every bush was a red man!"
"That danger is over, now, Blossom; but there is still an enemy near
you that must be overcome."
"An enemy! There is no one here, but Dolly and myself. No one has
been near us, since Gershom went after the bee-hunter, whom we heard
was out in the openings. Are you that bee-bunter?"
"I am, beautiful Blossom; and I tell you there is an enemy here, in
your cabin, that must be looked to."
"We fear no enemies but the red men, and we have seen none of them
since we reached this river. What is the name of the enemy you so
dread, and where is he to be found?"
"His name is Whiskey, and he is kept somewhere in this hut, in
casks. Show me the place, that I may destroy him, before his friend
comes to his assistance."
A gleam of bright intelligence flashed into the face of the
beautiful young creature. First she reddened almost to scarlet; then
her face became pale as death. Compressing her lips intensely, she
stood irresolute—now gazing at the pleasing and seemingly well-
disposed stranger before her, now looking earnestly toward the still
distant forms of her brother and sister, which were slowly advancing
in the direction of the cabin.
"Dare you?" Margery at length asked, pointing toward her brother.
"I dare: he is now quite sober, and may be reasoned with. For the
sake of us all, let us profit by this advantage."
"He keeps the liquor in two casks that you will find under the shed,
behind the hut."
This said, the girl covered her face with both her hands, and sunk
on a stool, as if afraid to be a witness of that which was to
follow. As for le Bourdon, he did not delay a moment, but passed out
of the cabin by a second door, that opened in its rear. There were
the two barrels, and by their side an axe. His first impulse was to
dash in the heads of the casks where they stood; but a moment's
reflection told him that the odor, so near the cabin, would be
unpleasant to every one, and might have a tendency to exasperate the
owner of the liquor. He cast about him, therefore, for the means of
removing the casks, in order to stave them, at a distance from the
dwelling.
Fortunately, the cabin of Whiskey Centre stood on the brow of a
sharp descent, at the bottom of which ran a brawling brook. At
another moment, le Bourdon would have thought of saving the barrels;
but time pressed, and he could not delay. Seizing the barrel next to
him, he rolled it without difficulty to the brow of the declivity,
and set it off with a powerful shove of his foot. It was the half-
empty cask, and away it went, the liquor it contained washing about
as it rolled over and over, until hitting a rock about half-way down
the declivity, the hoops gave way, when the staves went over the
little precipice, and the water of the stream was tumbling through
all that remained of the cask, at the next instant. A slight
exclamation of delight behind him caused the bee-hunter to look
round, and he saw Margery watching his movement with an absorbed
interest. Her smile was one of joy, not unmingled with terror; and
she rather whispered than said aloud—"The other—the other—THAT is
full—be quick; there is no time to lose." The bee-hunter seized the
second cask and rolled it toward the brow of the rocks. It was not
quite as easily handled as the other barrel, but his strength
sufficed, and it was soon bounding down the declivity after its
companion. The second cask hit the same rock as the first, whence it
leaped off the precipice, and, aided by its greater momentum, it was
literally dashed in pieces at its base.
Not only was this barrel broken into fragments, but its hoops and
staves were carried down the torrent, driving before them those of
the sister cask, until the whole were swept into the lake, which was
some distance from the cabin.
"That job is well done!" exclaimed le Bourdon, when the last
fragment of the wreck was taken out of sight. "No man will ever turn
himself into a beast by means of that liquor."
"God be praised!" murmured Margery. "He is SO different, stranger,
when he has been drinking, from what he is when he has not! You have
been sent by Providence to do us this good."
"I can easily believe that, for it is so with us all. But you must
not call me stranger, sweet Margery; for, now that you and I have
this secret between us, I am a stranger no longer."
The girl smiled and blushed; then she seemed anxious to ask a
question. In the mean time they left the shed, and took seats, in
waiting for the arrival of Gershom and his wife. It was not long ere
the last entered; the countenance of the wife beaming with a
satisfaction she made no effort to conceal. Dolly was not as
beautiful as her sister-in-law; still, she was a comely woman,
though one who had been stricken by sorrow.
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