Chapter 24
by the marshes of minas by sir charles g d roberts the eye of glooskap part two late in december the last ship sailed away then the last roof tree of grampy village went down in ashes and winslow's lieutenant osgood with a sense of heavy duty done departed with his new england troops winslow himself had gone some weeks before for five years after the great exile the acadian lands lay deserted and the fogs that gathered morning by morning on the dark top of blomedon looked down on a waste where came and went no human footstep all the while the faded amethyst lay hidden as far as tradition tells beneath the red ooze and changing tides of the creek then settlers began to come in and the empty fields were taken up by men of english speech once more a village arose on grand prais and cider presses creaked on the hills of gaspereau of the acadians to keep their memory green on the meadows they had captured from the sea
there remained the interminable lines of mighty dyke the old apple orchards and the wind-breaks of tall poplars and some gaping cellars full of ruins wherein the newcomers dug persistently for treasure by and by certain of the settlers who occupied the higher grounds back of the village began to talk of a star which they had seen gleaming with a strange violet radiance from a patch of unreclaimed salt marsh by the mouth of the creek in early evening only could the elfin light be discerned it was visible to none but those who stood upon the heights soon from no one knew where came tales of the eye of bluecap and the witch's stone and l'ettoile de pierre des and the death of the sailor of st malo and the losing of the gem on the day the ship sailed forth of the value of the amethyst the most fabulous stories went abroad and for a season the good wives of the settlers had but a sorry time of it cleansing their husbands garments from a daily defilement of mud while the vain search was going on an old scotchman shrewder than his fellows was taking out his title-deeds to the whole expanse of salt flats which covered perhaps a score of acres
having quietly made his position secure at halifax dugald mcintyre came down on his fellow-villagers with a firm celerity and the digging and the defiling of garments came suddenly to an end by grand-pray creek soon a line of new dyke encompassed the flats the spring-tides swept no more across these sharp grasses which had bent beneath the unreturning feet of the acadians and the prudent scot found himself the richer by twenty acres of exhaustlessly fertile meadow worth a hundred dollars an acre any day moreover he felt that he had the amethyst could he not see it almost any evening toward sundown by merely climbing the hillside back of his snug homestead how divinely it gleamed with long pale steady rays just inside the lines of circumvallation which he had so cunningly drawn about it in its low lurking-place beside the hubbub of the recurring ebb and flow it seemed to watch like an unwinking eye for the coming of curious and baleful fates but it never fell to the Scotchman's fortune to behold his treasure close at hand.
To the hilltop he had to go whenever he would gloat upon its beauty. To the most diligent and tireless searching of every inch of the marsh's surface it refused to yield up its implacably virginal luster. Sometimes, though rarely, it was visible as the moon drew near her setting, and then it would glitter whitely and malignantly like a frosty spear-point.
At last the settlers began to whisper that the star was not in the marsh at all, but that Dugald McIntyre, after the fashion of these canny folk, had or reached himself and run the lines of the dyke right over it. That it could continue to shine under such discouraging circumstances the settlement by this time scorned to doubt. To the eye of Glooscap the people were ready to attribute any powers, divine or devilish. Whether the degree of possession to which Dugald McIntyre had attained could be considered to constitute a legal ownership of the jewel or not is a question for lawyers, not for the mere teller of a plain tale, the mere digger among the facts of a perishing history. Suffice it to say that the finger of ill fortune soon designated Dugald McIntyre as the man whose claim to the eye was acknowledged by the fates.
From the time of the completion of the new dyke dated the Scotchman's troubles. His cattle, one year, his crops another, seemed to find the seasons set against them. Dugald's prudence, watchfulness, and untiring industry minimized every stroke. Nevertheless, things went steadily to the worse. It was destiny versus Dugald McIntyre, and with true Scottish determination Dugald braced himself to the contest. He made a brave fight, but wherever there was a doubtful
point at issue, the court, invisible, ruled inexorably and without a scruple against the possessor of the eye of Glooscap. When he was harvesting his first crop of hay off the new dike, and a fine crop it seemed likely to be, the rains set in, with a persistence that at length reduced the windrows to a condition of flavourless grey straw. Dugald McIntyre set his jaws grim together, took good hay from another meadow, and by a discreet construction of his bundles,
succeeded in selling the whole lot at a good price to his most gracious majesty's government at Halifax. This bold stroke seemed to daunt the fates for a time, and while they were recovering from their confusion, affairs went bravely with Dugault. When haying season came round again, the weather kept favourable, and the hay was all harvested in perfect shape. Dugault was much too prudent to boast, but in his innermost heart he indulged a smile of triumph. That night his barns
and outbuildings were burned to the ground and two fine horses with them, and his house was saved hardly. This was too much, even for him. Refusing to play longer a losing game, he sold the new marsh at some sacrifice to a settler who laughed at superstition. This sceptical philosopher, however, proved open to conviction. A twelve month later he was ready almost to give the land away, and the eye of Glooscap with it. For a mere song the rich and smiling tracked, carrying a heavy
crop just ready for the scythe, was purchased by a young New Englander with an admirable instinct for business. This young man went to Halifax and mortgaged the land and crop to their full value, and with the cash he left to seek his fortune. Thus the eye of Glushkap and the marsh with it came into the possession of a widow of great wealth, on whom the spell, it seemed, was of none effect. Her heirs were in England, and it came to pass in the course of a generation that
Grandpré knew not the owners of the fated marsh, and could not tell what troubles, if any, were falling upon the possessors of the star. Nevertheless, the star kept up its gleaming, a steady eye of violet under the sun sets, a ray of icy pallor when the large moon neared her setting, and at length it was discovered that the enchanted jewel had yet other periods of manifestation. Belated wayfarers on stormy December nights had caught the unearthly eye-beam when no other light could be seen in earth or sky.
When this took place the tide was always near about the full, and beating hoarsely all along the outer dykes. Then would be heard between the pauses of the wind, the rattle of oars at the mouth of the creek, and the creaking of ships' cordage, and anon the sound of children crying with the cold. If voices came upon the spot where the new marsh lay unseen, and the star shone coldly watchful, they were for the most part in a tongue which the wayfarers could not understand. But now and again some said, there were orders, spoken in English, and then the clank of arms, and the tramp of marching feet. Of course, these things were held in question by many of the settlers, but there were none so hardy as to suffer themselves to be caught upon the new marsh after nightfall.
The Eye of Glooscap discerned a supernatural terror in many a heart that claimed renown for courage. End of section 24 Read by Sandra In Nova Scotia, 2022
