It was evident from the
account he had given of Brian's attempt at suicide, that the hapless
hunter was not wholly answerable for his conduct - that he was a
harmless maniac.
The next morning, at the very same hour, Brian again made his
appearance; but instead of the rifle across his shoulder, a large
stone jar occupied the place, suspended by a stout leather thong.
Without saying a word, but with a truly benevolent smile, that
flitted slowly over his stern features, and lighted them up, like
a sunbeam breaking from beneath a stormy cloud, he advanced to the
table, and unslinging the jar, set it down before me, and in a low
and gruff, but by no means an unfriendly voice, said, "Milk, for
the child," and vanished.
"How good it was of him! How kind!" I exclaimed, as I poured the
precious gift of four quarts of pure new milk out into a deep pan.
I had not asked him - had never said that the poor weanling wanted
milk. It was the courtesy of a gentleman - of a man of benevolence
and refinement.
For weeks did my strange, silent friend steal in, take up the empty
jar, and supply its place with another replenished with milk. The
baby knew his step, and would hold out her hands to him and cry,
"Milk!" and Brian would stoop down and kiss her, and his two great
dogs lick her face.
"Have you any children, Mr. B - -?"
"Yes, five; but none like this."
"My little girl is greatly indebted to you for your kindness."
"She's welcome, or she would not get it. You are strangers; but I
like you all. You look kind, and I would like to know more about
you."
Moodie shook hands with the old hunter, and assured him that we
should always be glad to see him. After this invitation, Brian
became a frequent guest. He would sit and listen with delight to
Moodie while he described to him elephant-hunting at the Cape;
grasping his rifle in a determined manner, and whistling an
encouraging air to his dogs. I asked him one evening what made
him so fond of hunting.
"'Tis the excitement," he said; "it drowns thought, and I love to
be alone. I am sorry for the creatures, too, for they are free and
happy; yet I am led by an instinct I cannot restrain to kill them.
Sometimes the sight of their dying agonies recalls painful feelings;
and then I lay aside the gun, and do not hunt for days. But 'tis
fine to be alone with God in the great woods - to watch the sunbeams
stealing through the thick branches, the blue sky breaking in upon
you in patches, and to know that all is bright and shiny above you,
in spite of the gloom that surrounds you."
After a long pause, he continued, with much solemn feeling in his
look and tone -
"I lived a life of folly for years, for I was respectably born and
educated, and had seen something of the world, perhaps more than was
good, before I left home for the woods; and from the teaching I had
received from kind relatives and parents I should have known how to
have conducted myself better.
