Five Little Starrs in the Canadian Forest - BestLightNovel.com
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CHRISTMAS was seldom made much of among the timber-jacks, but this winter they were to have such a celebration as they had never dreamed of before.
Mr. Starr had held several secret meetings with his wife and the Latimers, and the result was that one day in the early part of December, he took the fastest team and the sleigh and drove to town.
Mr. Starr went directly to the express office of the little station and made inquiries.
"Has any box come for me from Grand Forks?" asked he.
"Yaas, guess that's what you're lookin' fer," replied the man who was ticket-agent, baggage-master and express agent, all three in one.
"That's it!" smiled Mr. Starr, taking his money out to pay the charges.
"All paid, and nuthin' to c'lect," laughed the man.
"Ho, that so? Well, then, just keep this and buy the kiddies some Christmas," said Mr. Starr, handing the man a dollar.
A whole dollar for a present meant more to this man out in the wilderness than a hundred dollars would to one in the city.
The box was set up in front of Mr. Starr's feet in the cutter, and the horses pranced away with sleigh-bells jingling like a veritable Santa Claus!
Several stops were made at stores where candy, pop-corn, tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs for trees, fruit, and toys were sold. Mr. Starr then drove his team to the stable and left word to be called for an early start in the morning. He went into the house, greeted the hotel keeper who had never before had a transient guest in the winter, and had supper with the family. Early that night he went to bed, leaving orders to be called at five.
By six o'clock the next morning, Mr. Starr, with all of his shopping piled in the back, under the seat, and in front of the sleigh, was flying back to the lumber camp.
The weather held good, and late that night the camp heard the jangle of bells as Mr. Starr drove over to the stables.
Great secrecy and whispers were the result of that trip to town. And many hours, while the children were at school, Mrs. Starr and Mrs.
Latimer were busy sewing.
Finally, the great festival time arrived, and everyone wondered what sort of Christmas fun could be had out in the woods.
The two ladies had spent several days in the kitchen showing Cookee some marvelous things! He had never seen a plum pudding cooked before, but he declared he could make one like it, after having watched Mrs. Starr prepare an immense one.
High, flaky cakes, with chocolate or jelly between the layers, were baked and stood hidden in the closet back of the table.
The timber men had come across a cranberry swamp in the early days of cutting and Mrs. Starr had quietly appropriated the pretty red berries for a future use. Now they reappeared as cranberry sauce.
"Huh! who'd a'thought them sour little b.a.l.l.s'd made sich a fine juice!"
exclaimed Cookee, smacking his lips after a taste of the sauce.
"That's to go with the venison on Christmas Day," said Mrs. Latimer.
"Didn't yeh know? Heven't yeh hearn what Mike cotched?" asked Cookee eagerly.
"No, what?" asked the ladies, expectantly.
"Couple of wil' turkeys! Dey was roostin' near his trap, and Mike ain't never had a catch in it this year, so he was feelin' like a mighty poor kind of a trapper, when dese turkeys lit on a line wid his eye. It was some job to cotch bote on em, 'cause one allus flies away soon's a sound is hearn. But, Mike--he jest says to hisself, 'By gum! I'll git bote on yer or chase yer all over the Nort!'" and Cookee laughed as he thought of Mike's determined manner when he threw down both turkeys.
"Why, how perfectly lovely! We will have a real Eastern dinner after all," cried Mrs. Starr.
"An dat ain't all dere is to it, nuther! Mike, he's gone duck shootin'
to-day an 'spects to bring back several brace of ducks to hep out on de turkeys," said Cookee, grinning at the way he gave away Mike's secrets for Christmas dinner.
"We'd better save the venison steak for New Year's, then," suggested Mrs. Latimer.
"Huh, huh! I will," replied Cookee, who was a favored mortal in camp, for timber-jacks could do without sleep but not without food.
"Now's we got the juice done, an' the cakes baked, I'll jes' show you what I done made fer the feast," said Cookee, leading the ladies into a lean-to shed that he had built up against the cabin, to store his cooked foods safely away from men and children.
In the spare minutes between meals when he had to cook and serve food for more than fifty hungry men, Cookee had delighted in baking cookies of every conceivable shape. These were for the children.
From the ankle bones and hoofs of the deer he had boiled out the jelly and flavored it with lemon and nutmeg and made a mould of jelly that looked exactly like calf's-foot jelly, but tasted much better. It shook upon its platter like the showpiece in any caterer's window.
He had cored large apples, and, with a concoction of beaten eggs, mola.s.ses, nuts and a bit of mint to flavor it, filled the gaps and baked them. The apples were soft and s.h.i.+ny when they came forth from the oven, and immediately, Cookee poured some melted sugar over them and allowed them to crystallize in the cold.
Several other unique side dishes had been made by the ingenious cook, and the ladies were most generous in their praise.
For several nights preceding Christmas Eve, the children had been sent to bed as soon as supper was over, to give the elders plenty of time to string pop-corn, make paper tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, and arrange generally for the great tree they were to have in the clearing if the day was fair, or in the dining-room if it stormed.
Christmas Eve was very clear and not too cold to be enjoyable out of doors. So, the men planted the tree in the middle of the clearing in the morning, and the children wandered about it all that day, trying to figure out how it ever would get trimmed.
"Tause," said Babs to Dot, "Dere ain't any chimbley fer Santy to come down!"
"But, we are almos' up in his home an' mebbe he don't use chimbleys at the North Pole," ventured Dot, who was somewhat suspicious of fat old Santa ever creeping down their chimneys at Oakwood.
That afternoon, Mike was told that the driver of one of the sledges would be free to take the children on a sleigh-ride party to the place where he knew the holly and mistletoe grew. The children were eager to go, and soon were out of the way.
The moment the coast was clear the elders hurried out of the cabins with huge bundles of tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs for the tree and started to dress it up in all manner of finery. Long chains of white and colored pop-corn, fancy cut and fluted tissue-paper chains, paper flowers, rosy apples, numerous paper bundles that meant gifts for everyone, tinsel threads everywhere from tip to tip of the branches, and last of all large candles that would not blow out in a light breeze and would burn a long time.
Huge pine torches were stuck in safe places all about the clearing, and the large lanterns that hung on poles were ready for the illumination.
The timber men came in early that day, for they knew of Santa Claus'
visit early that night, and washed and dressed for the occasion.
The sledge with the children returned about four o'clock laden with vines and berries for tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the dining-room.
The moment the children came toward the clearing, however, they gave shrieks of pleasure. Everyone ran out to see the cause of the joy and everyone was surprised (?) to find the tree all ready for lighting.
"Oh, Mumzie, I thought Santa never came until night!" cried Dot, disappointed to find that her plot to catch him had failed.
"That is the way down home, of course; but here, why I suppose this will be his first stop as we are so near his home," replied Mrs. Starr.
Babs stood gaping at the tree and never saying a word.
"Say, Mumzie, you jus' said 'Would be his first stop' but he's been and done it!" exclaimed Don.
"Oh, but he hasn't distributed the gifts. Don't you think he will want to hand them about himself?" asked Mrs. Starr.
"Maybe he won't have time, you know. He has to go so far to-night. Maybe that's why he hung them here so early--so's we could he'p ourselves,"
ventured Dot, thoughtfully.