[Canadian West 02] - When Comes the Spring (34 page)

"Thank you, God," I whispered. "Thank you for seeing us
through."

Wynn was soon there with the sled. Calling Kip to heel, I went
out to join him. It was a wonderful day as promised. Wynn made his
call and checked the man who had been reported ill in his cabin. Wynn
carried wood and water in and made sure he had the necessary supplies.
He gave him medicine to take for a few days and told him he would
be back to see him in a couple of days. The man didn't appear to be
seriously ill, just down with the flu; so we left him and started our
return trip.

We were about halfway home when a terrible cry rent the stillness
of the sun-filled day. I stopped in my tracks, my skin prickling.

"What was it?" I asked Wynn, who had stopped the team and
drawn up beside me.

"I'd better check," he said and reached for his rifle. The piercing
cry came again.

"You wait here," said Wynn. "I won't be long. It must be an animal
in a trap."

I sat down, my back to the direction Wynn was taking, trying to blot out the awful sound. I watched the sled dogs. They lay on the
hard-packed snow, their heads on their paws or else licking the icy
snow from between their toes. They seemed oblivious to the whole
thing, only appreciative of the chance to rest.

I thought of Kip then. I momentarily had forgotten about Kip. I
turned to look for him now.

He was disappearing just around the clump of trees where Wynn
had gone. I thought of Wynn and his rifle. What if he had to shoot
and didn't know that Kip was there and Kip got in the way?

"Kip!"- I cried, springing up. "Kip, get back here!"

I ran after the dog, puffing my way through the snow. It was not
far. I soon found Kip and I soon found Wynn.

And then I saw it. Lying on the ground, which was covered with
blood, was a small furry animal. His foot was secured in the trap, his
eyes were big and pleading, and his leg-his leg-. And Wynn was
swinging the butt of his rifle.

I couldn't look. I gave a little cry and turned away. Wynn's head
came up quickly and he came to me.

"Elizabeth," he said, taking me into his arms and turning my head
away from the awful sight, "I asked you to stay-"

"But Kip-he ran. I didn't see him until-"

Wynn held me. I started to cry and to shake. "The poor little animal," I kept sobbing. "The poor little thing."

Wynn let me cry.

"Oh, Wynn," I wept, "it's so awful."

"Yes," he agreed, "it's awful."

"You killed him?"

"I had to, Elizabeth. You saw how badly hurt he was."

"Couldn't you have let him go?"

"He was in a man's trap. And even if he had gotten away, he would
have died-"

"It's terrible." I began to cry again. "Can't you stop it, Wynn? Can't
you tell them not to do it anymore? You're the law; they'll listen to
you.

Wynn gave me a little shake to stop my hysteria and to bring some
sense to my head. "I can't stop trapping. You know I can't. Trapping is their way of life. Their livelihood..If they didn't have furs, they wouldn't
have anything. I know it's cruel. I hate it, too, but it's part of life. One
that we just have to accept."

I knew Wynn was right. I tried to stop crying. I thought of all the
families back at the settlement. The furs for trading was the only way
they had to buy their needed supplies.

I hated it, but I too would have to learn to live with it. Yet surely
surely there must be a more humane way my heart told me.

I was sorry that our one day out together for so many long weeks
had been spoiled. I tried to make it up to Wynn. I would not fuss
further and I would not speak of it again. There wasn't any way I could
prepare Wynn a special dinner, but at least I could be good company
in the little time we had left. I planned a night before the fireplace,
reading one of our favorite books.

When Wynn returned from settling the team, weary from the
duties of the day, I told him about my plans. He grinned and lifted
my face to kiss me on the nose.

"Sounds good to me."

We had just settled ourselves, and I was taking the first turn of
reading aloud, while Wynn lay with his head in my lap. A commotion
at the door made me jump and Wynn hollered. Fortunately, the book
in his face had done no damage.

We answered our door to find one man with another man over his
shoulder.

"Leg," he informed us and carried the man in and dumped him
rather unceremoniously on the rug before the fire.

The injured man groaned in pain. Wynn knelt down beside him
and began to feel the leg.

"It's broken," he said quietly. "We'll have to set it. At least the skin
isn't broken. It's not too bad a break. No splinters or torn muscle or
ligaments."

Wynn continued to feel the leg, and the man on the floor continued to groan.

"This isn't going to be nice," Wynn said to me. "Do you want to
take a walk?"

"Do you need me?"

"I could use you-but I won't ask you to stay."

"I think-I think I can manage."

"Good girl." Then Wynn turned to the man who had carried the
fellow in. "How did this happen?"

"Fall."

"How long ago?"

"'Bout hour."

"Let's get him on the cot."

They lifted him together and Wynn went for his medical supplies.
He poured some strong-smelling stuff on a small cloth and gave it to
me.

"I want you to stand here and hold this to his nose and mouth.
Like this. Wait until we are ready to set the leg. Don't hold it there for
too long. I'll tell you when to let him breathe it and when to move it
away."

I moved in by the man, the cloth in my hand, ready to follow
Wynn's instructions. I didn't watch. I was too busy with the face before
me and the cloth that I held. In spite of my ministration, the man still
moaned and tried to throw himself off the cot. The other man was
called over to hold him. At last the ordeal was over and Wynn tied the
leg securely in a makeshift splint.

"Go get one of your friends," Wynn said to the trapper, "and you
can take him to his cabin."

Wynn's forehead was wet with perspiration. He brushed back the
wave of hair that had fallen forward. He moved to the man on the cot
and reached down to him with a gentle hand.

"It'll be all right, Strong Buck," he said assuringly. "It's all over
now. They will take you to your own bed. I will give you good medicine for the pain."

The man nodded. The worst of it was over. Wynn brought the
tablet and the water and he swallowed it gratefully.

The men were soon back and carefully carried their companion to
his own home to be welcomed by an anxious wife.

Wynn turned back to the fire and then looked at me and smiled.

"Where is that nice, quiet evening you had arranged, Elizabeth?"
he asked me.

I crossed to him and put my arms around his neck.

"Is there anything you can't do?" I asked him with admiration in
my voice. "You deliver babies, sew up ugly cuts, set broken bones, pull
infected teeth, act as doctor to the sick, feed the whole village. Is there
anything that you can't do?" I repeated.

Wynn kissed me. He smiled that slow, easy smile I had learned to
love.

"Now, Elizabeth," he said teasingly. "Do you think I would be so
silly as to confess?"

Though we did not hear from the McLains, I began to watch for
them. "As soon as the river thaws," or "as soon as the logs can be
brought from the forests," was not too definite a time for their return.
Well, the river was running again now and the forests were losing their
snow quickly. I began to watch and to hope.

"I'll be back in time to plant my garden," Nimmie had said. "We
will plant a garden together."

I was anxious for that garden. I was even more anxious for Nimmie. I thought, too, of Katherine. Would she be back too? Poor Katherine! She had faced so much 'in life, but she had lost so much of life
by her own choosing. I was so glad she seemed finally able to start
picking up the pieces again.

I wondered about Nimmie's coming baby. This was not a convenient time to be on the long, difficult trail out from Edmonton. I
remembered the trip well. But then Nimmie was at home with the
woods and the river. She no doubt would be a better traveler than I
had been. I had watched for the first bluebird when at home in
Toronto. I had watched for the first song of the robin. I had waited
expectantly for the sight of the first spring crocus. I had relished the
day when I saw my first dainty violet. But now I was watching and
waiting for Nimmie. With Nimmie's arrival, I would know that it was
really spring. With the coming of Nimmie and Ian, new life would be
given to the dreary, winter-weary little settlement.

Heavy parkas were put away now. Children played out again in
cotton dresses and flannel shirts. Women went to the woods with baskets on their arms, hoping to find some early spring greens. Men came
back from traplines and turned their attention from trapping furs to tanning the furs. Smoke still lazily drifted from the fires in the cabins,
but at times they were allowed to die out. Their warmth wasn't needed
through all of the days.

There was a new feeling in the settlement, a feeling of being
released after a long confinement. But still, I held apart, breathless,
waiting.

Was it really spring, or might another biting north wind bring in
the snow again? I hardly dared to hope.

And then it happened. A man rode excitedly into camp, his horse
breathing heavily. He cried out in broken English, "They come. Many
wagons.

Everyone came from their cabins.

"Where? Where?"

He began to talk to them in their own language then, and I was
about to explode with my question.

I ran among the people until I found Wynn.

"Is it them?" I asked him.

"It's them," he assured me, grinning. "With many wagons of supplies."

"How far away are they?"

"About five miles."

Five miles. That still seemed too far. I could hardly wait. It would
seem forever. "I'll go get them some supper," I said, about to bolt off.

Wynn caught my hand. "Hold it," he said, laughing. "They won't
be here for an hour or so."

At my look of disappointment, he hurried on.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go out to meet them."

"Oh, yes!" I cried.

"Grab a sweater. It might be getting cool before we get back."

I ran for the sweater, my skirts whipping about my legs. I lifted
them up so that I might run faster. They're here! Well, they were almost
here. They were coming.

I hurried hack to Wynn. "Let's go," I said, already out of breath.

He took my arm and slowed me down. "If we have a few miles to
walk, you'd better slow down. You'll never make it at that pace."

He was right. I slowed down, and the people of the village began to fall into step behind us. They came, the mothers carrying babies and
the fathers hoisting young ones on their shoulders. Even the old, who
needed the assistance of a walking stick, tottered on at a slower pace.
The whole village was going out to meet the trader and his Indian wife.

We walked along as swiftly as Wynn would allow. I breathed deeply
of the fresh tangy air. It was still cool but it smelled of growing things,
I thought. Or was it just my imagination?

"Do you think spring is really here?" I asked Wynn.

"I think so."

"What signs do you go by?" I persisted.

"The river is almost ice free."

I nodded my head in assent.

"The snow is almost all gone."

I nodded again.

"It's warmer," continued Wynn. "And I've seen several flocks of
Canada geese pass over."

He waited. "Do you need more?"

I swatted at my cheek. "The mosquitoes are back," I said ruefully.

"There," said Wynn. "You have one more assurance. Spring is here
all right." We laughed together.

Kip frolicked on ahead of us, sniffing at rabbit dens and barking at
saucy squirrels. I laughed at him.

"I think he's excited, too," I said to Wynn.

Wynn took my hand.

"This winter has been hard for you, hasn't it, Elizabeth?"

"It's been hard for everyone," I answered honestly.

"But the rest-they are used to the hardships. You haven't been.
Has it-has it been too much?"

"I admit I will be very glad for a fresh carrot. And I will admit I
will be glad for a piece of cake. I will even admit that spinach, which I
hate, might taste good. But I am not sorry that I came with you,
Wynn."

Wynn stopped me and pushed back my hair and kissed me. He
looked deeply into my eyes.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Elizabeth. I have something to say,
too. Something I maybe should have said long ago, but I want to say now, with all my heart-with all my love. I'm proud of you, Elizabeth.
Proud of your strength, your support, your ability to adjust to hard
things. You've been my help, my support, my right arm, Elizabeth. I
don't know what I ever would have done without you. You've more
than proved me wrong-over and over. You belong here-with me."

Wynn kissed me again, and I brushed away happy tears and lifted
my face again to his.

And then I heard the grinding of the wagon wheels. They were
coming. Just over the hill was Nimmie. Just over the hill were the
needed supplies-and hope. My heart gave a lurch in its happiness. I
gave Wynn one more kiss with all my love wrapped up in it, and I
turned to meet the oncoming wagon.

Spring had come.