A Ribbon of Shining Steel Page 3

  I told her that some Chinese had died of scurvy, not smallpox, but that only got her wailing about how we would catch scurvy.

  Great Godfrey! I reckoned the day would be over before we went down the river bank, let alone found any jade. I told her what Mama told me: you do not get scurvy if you eat fruits and vegetables and fresh meat. The Chinese workers got scurvy because they only ate rice and dried salmon. As for being murdered? Poppycock!

  I might as well have been talking to a catfish for all the good it did. She wanted to forget the jade and go home. I finally persuaded her otherwise, after promising we would go a fair distance away from the camp.

  As we started down the bank, she said, “Chinaman, Chinaman, never die. Yellow face and slanty eye.”

  Good thing Papa wasn’t there. We were in Kwong Lee’s store one day and he heard me chant that same rhyme. Quick as a whistle he marched me home and tanned my backside. I cried buckets and told him it wasn’t fair, I heard people talk like that all the time, even grown-ups. He said that did not make it right — the Chinese were good men and hard workers and I was never to talk about people in a cruel or mocking way, no matter what their race.

  I did not tell Anne all that, but I should have. The whole time I was looking for jade she kept watch to make sure we were not being followed. To make matters worse, when I finally found a piece of jade she turned up her nose and said, “It doesn’t look precious. It looks like an ordinary rock.”

  Well, of course it looks like a rock. It is a rock! Anyone knows that. It has to be cut and polished to look precious. But no use telling Anne.

  On the way home I picked a bouquet of flowers — purple Michaelmas daisies, white everlasting and yellow goldenrod. I’m going to dry the flowers and arrange them in a little glass dome — like they sell at the General Store — and give it to Mama for Christmas.

  We passed a gang of Chinese and Anne once again said her rhyme — but this time very quietly. I told her if she was worried about the Chinese, she should have been here when I first came to Yale. On pay days, Mama would not let us outside our gates — not even Andrew and Toby — because of all the fighting and drunken white men stumbling about.

  Anne shrugged and after that we scarcely spoke at all. It was a long walk home and I am sorry to say I did not think Sunday thoughts — I thought about how much fun it would have been if Rachel could have come instead of Anne.

  I also thought about the Chinese workers. I still remember when the first lot arrived in Yale. We came out of church and saw the flatcars passing through town, loaded with hundreds and hundreds of Chinese. My brothers and I stood there gawking until Mama told us we’d be swallowing flies if we didn’t close our mouths. We were accustomed to the Chinese because of the ones who had stayed in Yale after the Gold Rush, but we had never seen so many all at once. And then Papa told us that Mr. Onderdonk was bringing in more — maybe 5000 or more! — because the white workers he’d hired from San Francisco were hopeless. Some had shown up at the railway camps dressed in tattered suits and most couldn’t tell one end of a shovel from the other.

  I have never seen any Chinese workers drunk, not like some of those Whites. But now the gangs are too far up the line to come into Yale very often. When they do, they mostly behave. Mama says Yale has turned into a respectable little town. So now we are allowed out of the gates — and even up the Wagon Road.

  Thank goodness I have my Diary. It is like talking to a friend who is interested in everything I have to say. Not like Anne. I wish I hadn’t rescued her lunch from the outhouse.

  LESSON LEARNED: Next time I look for jade I’ll ask my brothers to come with me.

  Monday, September 25

  Horrid day at school. Teacher yelled at me for daydreaming — I could not help it, I’m too excited about the Princess — and Anne would not speak to me. But I heard her tell her sister not to pull faces at the Chinese passing in front of the school. So maybe she took some of my words to heart.

  Wednesday, September 27

  Another railway worker went into the Accident Hospital today. He was about to blast a stump when the charge accidentally exploded. I pray that Papa never gets hurt.

  Saturday, September 30

  Tomorrow night Princess Louise will arrive in Yale. On Monday the Governor General will give an address and we will have a holiday from school in order to hear it. Then the G-G and the Princess are going on flatcars up the line.

  Everyone is excited. The streets are being cleaned and an arch has been put up on Front Street. It is thirty feet high. There is a Union Jack at each of the four corners of the arch and a higher one in the centre with the Royal Scottish Standard. And fancy lettering that says Welcome Lorne and Louise.

  Anne and I are friends again. She came to my house and we wrapped our jade. We did not have time to cut it or polish it, but I think one of the Princess’s servants can do that. She likely has hundreds of them.

  On the card I wrote To Princess Louise from Miss Louise Cameron and Miss Anne Swanson. I told Anne her name could go first but she said my name should go first since it was my idea and I found the jade.

  We cut out large red letters saying Welcome Louise and pasted them to white paper. Then we made a wreath of evergreens and flowers to go around it. Everyone in town got little flags to wave and we put ours in the wreath. Anne’s father said our wreath was so grand we could hang it from their balcony. They live close to the arch so the Princess will have a perfect view of it. And we will have a perfect view of her because up on the balcony is where we are going to be!

  The town looks like a fairyland. There are decorations all along the railway track, and every store has wreaths, flowers, evergreens and flags. Even the saloons and the Chinese stores. There are fir trees placed all along the procession route, and Union Jacks waving as far as the eye can see, and the Hudson Bay Company flag, too. Everyone’s verandah has hanging baskets with hundreds of flowers. Mama’s baskets look spectacular.

  At Schroeder’s Butcher Shop there is a display of evergreens arranged around a carcass of mutton. Toby saw it and said we should add a few trout.

  October 1882

  Monday, October 2

  Hell’s Gate and Galoshes! I am crushed beyond words.

  Waited all morning for the Princess to arrive. At 11:00 we heard the whistle of the engine coming up from Emory and people started running to the railway platform at Victoria Street. I wanted to go, too, but I remembered my Pledge and refrained. So we waited some more and practised our curtseys (easy) and patience (difficult). The balcony was crowded — Anne, her parents and sisters and Mama and me and a few neighbours. My brothers were at the platform.

  Finally we heard the cheers and knew the cars had arrived. We saw Mr. Fraser — in Highland dress — marching and playing his bagpipes. Then the dapple greys came into view, pulling the coach. We had bouquets at the ready but then we saw that Princess Louise wasn’t there! Nobody else seemed to mind. They cheered and threw their bouquets. One struck the G-G on his shoulder and he looked up and smiled — directly at Anne.

  I did not throw my bouquet. I wanted to throw a trout. I wanted to go home but Mama said I had to stay for the speeches.

  Bullocks and Boredom, the speeches. Rev. Horlock gave his speech and said everyone was sorry the Princess could not come. Then the G-G gave his speech and said she would have come if he had not thought the journey up country would be too tiring.

  Mercy McGinnis! Does Princess Louise not have a mind of her own? She could have come as far as Yale and rested here.

  Anne kept nudging me and said we should go down and give him our present. But I decided right then and there I would not give away the jade. I told Anne I had changed my mind. Mama told me to stop scowling.

  After the speeches, Margaret and Mary Stout gave the G-G their gold specimens and the procession carried on through the town.

  Now Anne is mad at me for being pig-headed. Mama is mad at me for being peevish. And I’m back to being Kate. Naturally, now that I no
longer like it, Toby calls me Louise.

  Peevish: perversely obstinate and ill-tempered.

  Tuesday, October 3

  Sunny.

  Teacher quizzed us about the G-G’s visit to make sure we had not taken the day off to go trout fishing. Then we had to write out the G-G’s full name and titles for penmanship: His Excellency the Right Honourable Sir John Douglas Sutherland Campbell, Marquis of Lorne, Knight of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle, Knight Grand Cross of the Most Distinguished Order of St. Michael and St. George, Governor General of Canada. He must have the longest name and title in the world. But long name or not, he should have let the Princess come to Yale.

  Anne is still mad. I overheard her telling Clara about the jade and they both said I was stubborn and mean — especially since the jade was meant to be a present from Anne as well as from me. They said the Princess would have been pleased as punch to have something from Yale when she could not be here in person. They said I was selfish and always had to have my own way. I pretended I didn’t hear them.

  What does a Knight of the Thistle do? I asked Andrew on the way home from school and he said that was a prickly question!

  I said we should form our own Noble Order of Knights but call it something different. We had lots of ideas — Most Noble Order of the Dogwood. Or Huckleberry. Toby liked Most Noble Order of the Trout. We could not reach an agreement so for now we will be like the G-G and call ourselves Knights of the Thistle.

  Mama sent me to Schroeder’s for mutton chops — just as a big flock of sheep was coming through Yale. I had to wait ages to cross the street. Someone said there were 500.

  Now it is bedtime. If I can’t get to sleep I know what sheep to count. They are all on their way to Victoria.

  Wednesday, October 4

  Rain and mud.

  School seemed empty today because a lot of pupils are sick with whooping cough, including Anne and Clara. Teacher had fewer pupils to torment so he picked on me. He asked the most taxing questions in Mental Arithmetic and I disgraced myself by not knowing the answers. If it takes 20 yards of calico to make 2 dresses, how many similar dresses will 110 yards make? And: What is the value of a load of oats weighing 1037 lbs. at 40¢ a bushel?

  Bushels, bullocks, bother! Naturally I know the answers now, when Teacher is not standing over me looking cross. He gave me the entire book of Mental Arithmetic so I can practise before the Examination — which is over two months away, so what is the point?

  I suppose I should get at it instead of renting my spleen by copying the bothersome questions into my Diary.

  What is a spleen?

  Saw another accident victim go into the Hospital as we were coming home from school. It was Papa’s friend, Mr. Ferguson. He thought all the shots had exploded, so he went back into the tunnel and one of the shots went off. He was hit in the back of the head by a rock.

  Thursday, October 5, Early Morning

  Terrible night. First I had the nightmare, the one about Papa being hurt. I woke up crying and could not get back to sleep so Mama came in and told me not to worry, that Papa is in God’s hands and our prayers will keep him safe.

  But aren’t the other workers in God’s hands, too? Why do they get hurt? I asked Mama but she didn’t know the answer. She only said, “God works in mysterious ways.”

  I said some more prayers and finally went back to sleep but then the wind woke me up. Mercy Mackerel! It felt as if the four winds of Heaven were blowing through our house.

  Walked to school in the wind and rain and mud.

  More pupils are away with whooping cough — over half the school — so now I am the oldest girl. And because I am the oldest girl, Teacher let me help some Primaries with their reading — Melissa Fox, Hughie McDonald and Oliver Kustner. We did a poem in the Second Primer called “Be a Man.” Here’s the first verse.

  Do not cry. If you hit your toe,

  Say, “Oh!” And let it go.

  Be a man if you can,

  And do not cry.

  It is not much of a poem. My favourite line — which I recited to my brothers — is in the second verse: Do not tease your little sister. Melissa liked that one, too. She has three brothers but she is not the little sister, she is the Big Sister. Even though she is only seven.

  Hughie and Oliver had only recently begun the Second Primer and were more interested in looking at the pictures than in reading.

  It is the first time Teacher has allowed me to help the little ones and I enjoyed it immensely. I think Melissa and the boys enjoyed it, too — especially Melissa. I had them read the poem again and again until they could enunciate every syllable clearly. Then Hughie took on such a spell of coughing we had to stop. Later I learned he was faking the cough, the cheeky rascal.

  After school, Teacher told me I was a big help! I asked if I could do it again and he smiled and raised his right eyebrow. Does that mean yes? Does the left eyebrow mean no? I will have to figure it out.

  Friday, October 6

  This morning on the way to school I used the expression “rent my spleen” and Andrew told me I had it wrong. It is “vent my spleen,” and it has to do with bad temper.

  A spleen, according to Andrew, is an organ near the stomach. I find it a most unappetizing word so I do not care to use it — or vent it — again.

  Teacher’s right eyebrow must mean yes because I helped the little ones again today! I hope the older girls stay away for a long time. Anne, too. At least Papa’s taking me to Spuzzum in a fortnight to see Rachel. Otherwise I am doomed to being friendless.

  Came home straight after school. Laid the cloth for supper. Set the table. Ate supper. Swept up the crumbs in the dining room. Helped Mama wash the dishes. Put away the supper things and swept the kitchen. And Andrew complains of his chores. I offered to chop firewood or rake out the ashes if he would bake bread or black-lead the range. The look on his face, you would think he had eaten a bucket of milk porridge.

  Saturday, October 7

  I’m in bed and dying of whooping cough.

  So is Toby. Andrew is spared — I do not know why.

  Papa said he’ll take me to Rachel’s next month instead of this month, now that I’m sick. But the road will be worse and I will most likely be dead. Poor me.

  Thursday, October 19

  The worst is over. After 2 weeks of wracking coughs and burning mustard plastered to my chest, I am slowly coming back to life — although I’m still forced to take Syrup of Squill’s every 4 hours to ease my cough. SQUILL’S! The name itself is enough to make me vomit. Mama says I should not complain because when she was a little girl and had whooping cough, the doctor treated her with leeches.

  Mr. Hagan brought over a bag of horehound candy. The licorice taste is a treat.

  Friday, October 20

  More rain.

  Our neighbour, Mr. Harrison, stopped by for a visit and stayed for tea. He told Mama he thinks that Yale should have a Library and a Reading Room. He is asking anyone with used books or magazines to donate them so we can get started. He wants to raise money to purchase new books, too. I asked him if children could use the library and he said certainly, provided their parents pay the required fee.

  I think this is a grand idea so I’m going to donate some of the magazines that Grandma Forrest sends from England. We’ve got lots — like the Girl’s Own Paper and Boy’s Own Paper and more coming all the time. I can’t wait to use the library.

  Saturday, October 21

  The Skuzzy Creek bridge is almost finished. So far everyone working on it has been safe, including Papa.

  Monday, October 23

  Hip, hip, hurray! I went back to school today and Melissa was so happy to see me, she asked Teacher if I could help her with her Reading again. He raised his right eyebrow and said Yes! — provided I finish my own work first.

  Anne was back, too. She said she had heard I was sick and she hoped I was feeling better. We got scolded for talking and giggling and hip, hip, hurraying, but T
eacher took pity for once and did not rap our knuckles or make us write lines. He just raised his left eyebrow — a warning signal! — and gave us a fearsome scowl.

  Anne must have recovered from the jade fiasco as well as from the whooping cough because she did not mention it once. Neither did I. Thank goodness we are friends again.

  Tuesday, October 24

  Rain and mud. Nothing ever happens in my dreary life. I can’t even raise one eyebrow at a time.

  Wednesday, October 25

  Last spring Papa said that by fall, the whistle of the “Iron Horse” would be heard throughout the Canyon. And he was right. I love the sound. One day it will echo across the whole Dominion of Canada. And the rails will stretch across the land like a ribbon of shining steel.

  Thursday, October 26

  I loved doing Penmanship today:

  Round the rugged rock the rapid river ran.

  It sounds like the Fraser!

  Friday, October 27

  Mr. Hagan printed a poem in the Sentinel. I asked him if he is the author but he refused to say. It is called “The Song of the Locomotive” and is very stirring. It has ten verses. These are my favourites:

  Beware! Beware! for I come in my might!

  With a scream, and a scowl of scorn;

  With a speed like the mountain eagle’s flight

  When he rides the breeze of morn!

  Away — away — o’er valley and plain,