Band of Acadians (9 page)

Dismayed and surprised at this belligerent attitude, Hector replied in an equally harsh tone. “There wasn't a soul here when we arrived, and there was no evidence anyone had ever lived here. You obviously have your own land somewhere else. Why are you being so selfish? There's room for all.”

“This whole area was given to us by the governor at Louisbourg. We won't stand for trespassers on our land. You must get off!”

Hector glared at them. “Well, we'll have to talk to the governor about that, won't we? Now you push off yourself! We don't like your kind around here!”

This nasty dispute put a damper on the celebrations, and before long all attempts at restarting the music died out. Several refugees went back to work, though not in a happy frame of mind.

“I don't remember any family being so greedy in Grand Pré,” Nola said.

Frank attempted to persuade Hector to assign several boys to work with him on his mysterious project. “I'd like to build a special heating box for the coal.”

“You can do your tinkering when the essentials are done, Frank,” Hector said, still unhappy about the English lad's seeming attempts to lead their band. “We need to concentrate on getting coal to heat our cabins.”

“We can do both, Hector. My project wouldn't slow us down from getting coal for our regular needs, not by much, anyway.”

Hector ignored him. Instead, he assigned a work crew to dig into the coal outcropping. Within a few hours they produced a shoulder-high heap of coal. He then instructed his team to build clay fireplaces in each cabin.

The next week the occupants of every cabin took pleasure in a wonderful new phenomenon — a lovely coal fire. “Coal sure beats wood as a way to heat our cabins,” Hector said. “A little goes a long way.”

Frank wouldn't give up his heating box project. In his spare time he built a strange-looking structure. It had a double-barrelled chimney — a heating box placed inside a regular chimney — with the heating box connected to a pipe that arced back to ground level.

“It's a way to heat coal without burning it,” he explained to Nola. “The pipe allows you to condense any vapour that evaporates from the hot coal. I've seen equipment like this in the wine-growing areas of France when they distill wine to make cognac. They call them distillation towers. All I'm doing differently is to heat coal instead of wine.”

“That's an odd project,” Nola said, “but I'd be happy to help once I get the rabbit hutches and lobster traps going. I think it's nice you're using ideas from France.”

“Lots of people in many countries have known about distillation for two or three hundred years.”

Frank accepted Nola's help happily, but she was the only one, so it took more than two weeks to make a proper distillation tower, a delay he found profoundly frustrating. Then, when this work was mostly done, he realized he had to wait some more for the mud to dry. “We can test the tower only when the mud dries, or the heat will cause it to crack. I think we'll be ready by this time tomorrow. Then I'll need to scrounge a bit of the coal from Hector to test it.”

The next day an anxious Frank touched his tower every hour. By late afternoon, he judged it dry enough to start the first run. He had managed to secure some wet coal from Hector, but this material proved difficult to light. After much patience, he finally got it to burn satisfactorily. It produced a bluish flame that created far more heat than he had anticipated. “That's a lovely fire indeed,” he said to himself. “Maybe it's the wet that gives it that nice blue colour. Now let's see if there's anything in our condenser.”

A strong, resinous aroma, unfamiliar and none too pleasant, surrounded the tower — a signal that the intense heat was indeed producing something. Holding his nose close to the condenser, Frank tingled. “That smells just like pine tar and turpentine.” He paused for a moment, then took a sample of the newly condensed liquid and threw it into the coal fire. It immediately burst into a brilliant red flame.

“That's amazing!” several passing boys cried when they witnessed this event.

Frank was overjoyed. “Marvellous. That's exactly what I hoped would happen. My condenser works! It's just as my father told me. Fortune favours the bold.”

That evening the
Rameurs
experienced something even more exciting than a coal fire — illumination by coal oil. To Nola this lamplight was a strangely satisfying type of elemental force. It made her so happy that she stayed up to read the Perrault book far into the night. This action resulted in a heated commotion in her cabin.

“Turn out that light, Nola,” her irate cabin mates whispered. “It's halfway to morning. Go to bed.”

By the end of June, little Westmount looked like a real settlement. There were now fifteen cabins, some with tiny “windows” made of scraped rabbit skin, and work had begun on a larger structure that would serve as their community centre.

After the unpleasant encounter with the Acadian settlers, Grandpa and Jocelyne decided to go back to the other side of the bay to hide their beehive. “Those greedy louts might destroy it,” Grandpa said before they left.

When they arrived on the other side, Jocelyne said, “I was hoping we could use the meadows on this side as a garden, but we can't risk that now. However, there are a few fertile patches by the side of our creek that we could seed.”

“You'd better keep a few of those seeds in reserve in case that ground won't support crops,” Grandpa cautioned. “It's a long way back to Monsieur Denys's place if we run out of seeds.”

Not long after Grandpa and Jocelyne returned from their mission, a large fishing schooner was spotted. The ship anchored in the bay close to the settlers. The mariners rowed ashore with an open, friendly demeanour and were accorded, in consequence, a cheerful reception.

“Welcome to our little community,” Hector said. “We're glad to see you. Yours is the first fishing boat we've seen.”

The sailors were Basques who, it turned out, had fished these waters for many years. Very outgoing people, they offered the
Rameurs
fresh haddock and, most surprisingly, a few pineapples and coconuts they had purchased from southern traders. In return the
Rameurs
, under Jocelyne's supervision, cooked them the best meal in her repertoire.

The Basques were intrigued by the coal oil lamps and indicated these would be very valuable in Europe. “That lamp oil would be worth a fortune in Spain,” the captain told them.

“If you're interested, you could have a few barrels of coal oil and in exchange next season you could bring us back some things we need.”

The captain was very interested, and for the rest of the Basques' stay, talk all over Westmount was focused on what things the
Rameurs
could get in return for their coal oil.

“I have to admit that Frank's contraption produced something valuable,” Hector said.

In mid-July, Jocelyne approached Hector and Frank with a problem caused by success. The beehives were producing so much honey that storing it had become challenging. “I don't have enough containers to hold it all,” she said. “For now I'm just using the honeycombs, but that won't do for much longer.”

Drawing from his experience at making gypsum slates, Frank said, “I have just the thing for that. You know those gypsum rocks we brought on the rafts? Well, we can heat them up, mix in some burnt seashells, and add a little water to form a thick mass that will harden into whatever shape you want — not just a flat surface. It would be fairly easy to make a container that could hold several gallons.”

Not to be outdone, Hector added, “I have something to help also. I connected one of our bayonets to a foot-operated treadle that lets me turn wood into all sorts of round shapes. I could make goblets to hold drinks. It's a wonderful little machine. I can make any round shape.”

“You boys are so inventive,” Jocelyne said. “How can I help you make those things?”

“No,” Hector said. “You go ahead and make something interesting with that honey. How about a honey wine? Frank and I will make you some containers.”

A culinary challenge always excited Jocelyne. She tried different ingredients, and within a couple of weeks produced mead flavoured with dandelion flowers and leek roots.

“This is a lot better than spruce beer,” she announced to Nola, “but I think it still needs a bit of work. You think garlic would help?” She was soon operating a modest canteen outside her cabin door, serving goblets of her rough drink. Together with a shellfish snack made from pickled winkles, this made her canteen a popular place.

At the end of July, Toomy came by with his dog. The reunion of Zena and her son gladdened the hearts of all who saw the event. After a bit of growling and sniffing, Zena suddenly realized Zoopie was her son and began to howl with joy. That was followed by much play-wrestling and running around — a great treat for both canine and human.

Hector was keen to settle their land dispute problem, so just before August, when it was apparent their garden wasn't going to produce enough seeds for next year's planting, they agreed it was high time to visit Louisbourg. Many
Rameurs
wanted to go on the excursion, but as with the initial encounter with the Mi'kmaq at Whycocomagh, Hector wanted a carefully controlled first meeting. He decided that only one shallop would make the trip, and that he, Jocelyne, Nola, Sammy — the younger brother of Leo, the boy slain during the fight when crossing the isthmus — and Zoopie would go.

The weather was perfect for sailing as the shallop set off on the nearly fifty-mile sea journey to the fortress. The boat handled well even when the ocean breeze made the vessel heel over. Hector figured they might reach the fortress before nightfall.

Zoopie was sitting by Sammy's side when they saw the first dolphins of the voyage. Dolphins were curious animals that liked to swim along unusual things such as boats. Zoopie got excited at this interesting “big fish” and began a frenzied barking spree. Sammy had to calm him down. “These are friendly animals, Zoopie. There's no need to be afraid.”

The dog seemed to understand. “Friends,” he barked, then sat. Soon he was back to his specialty of napping.

The horizon was barely visible by the time the shallop turned past the harbour lighthouse and into Louisbourg Bay. The huge grey walls were lit by only a few lanterns, so they managed to pull up right to the dock unobserved by the night guard.

Hector whistled boldly to a guard. “Hey, sleepyhead, wake up. You've got visitors.”

The guard, embarrassed at not noticing them earlier, asked gruffly, “Who are you?”

“We're from a new settlement in the Baie des Espanols area. We escaped from the British at Grand Pré and would like to meet the governor.”

“Oh, you're welcome then. But you'll have to wait until the morning to meet the governor. You can sleep in the guardhouse tonight.”

“Thank you. You haven't any food, do you? Our fishing line broke and we haven't eaten any dinner.”

“I'll see what I can do. That's a cute little dog you have there.”

In the morning the head of the guards treated the visitors kindly. He brought them to Pierre Lorant's L'Hôtel de la Marine for a hearty breakfast of meat pie, cabbage, sausage, and heavy brown bread. Then he escorted them up the cobblestoned street to the huge edifice called the King's Bastion and past the white-and-gold chapel right into the governor's office.

Governor Augustin de Drucour, descended from a long line of Norman knights, greeted them cordially. He was quite impressed when they presented him with a coal oil lamp and demonstrated its power of illumination.

“Very remarkable indeed,” he told them. Then he asked Madame Drucour to join them so he could show her the
Rameur
innovation.

Madame Drucour asked Jocelyne and Nola about their adventures and how they were doing. When Jocelyne explained about their garden problems, Madame Drucour said, “I'll be glad to supply you with the seeds you need, but you'll have to ask the governor about your land problem. Here, I want to show you angelica, my favourite plant. It looks like umbrella ribbing, and we use it as medicine against colds, bronchitis, and rheumatism. We eat the roots and leaves as a vegetable and make jams and jellies from it. The roots are also good as a yellow dye.”

“Oh, I hope we can get some of those seeds, too,” Nola said.

The governor had some dreadful news. France and Britain were once again at war. Several battles had already taken place in New York, Ohio, India, and Germany. Hector gasped as the governor related the barbarity the battles had inflicted on both defenders and combatants. Then he regained his composure enough to ask the governor to deed them the land on which Westmount was built plus have gardening rights to the meadows across the bay.

“If you pay ten percent of your coal oil output to the crown, then you'll get the land,” the governor said.

Hector didn't hesitate. “We accept those terms.”

The next day Hector and his crew were escorted back to Westmount by two whaleboats full of soldiers. Governor Drucour wanted to be certain the unruly settlers threatening the
Rameurs
wouldn't do so again.

Frank was understandably concerned when he learned of the new war between France and his homeland. It was time to put a plan he had been considering into effect. “Hector, we need help to make a weapon to defend ourselves.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“You know how we've been making containers from that gypsum mix? Well, it's also possible to make two containers, one fitting inside the other.”

“What's the value in that?”

Frank grinned. “The inside piece can move up and down as a piston in a cylinder-shaped outside container. So if you place, say, coal oil in the cylinder, the piston can push the liquid down through a pipe at the bottom and squirt it out.”