My Strange Rescue — A Strange Helper

*A STRANGE HELPER.

* "There's nothing for it, Maggie, but to let the place go.

I've tried my best to raise the money, but those that are willing to help a fellow haven't it to lend, and those that have it ain't willing to help.

It's mighty hard lines, I tell you," and, with a groan of despair, Alec M'Leod buried his head in his hands, as he leaned heavily upon the table.

Hard lines it was, indeed, as no one knew better than Moses Shearer, the money-lender, to whose conduct was due Alec the miller's anguish of mind.

He had chosen that particular time for enforcing satisfaction of his claim, because he understood that it could not be done without a sale of the mill property; and this was just what he desired, as he intended to bid it in for himself.

It did seem a cruel thing for Mr. M'Leod to be sold out of the snug, well-equipped mill that represented his whole fortune; and all for a debt of one hundred pounds, incurred under special circumstances for which he was in no wise to blame.

No wonder that he was sorely cast down, and that gloom reigned in his household, which consisted of a devoted wife and two children--Robert, the elder, a sturdy, enterprising lad of fourteen, and Jessie, a sweet, fair-haired lassie two years younger.

They were all in the room when the miller gave voice to his despair, and Rob, full of sympathy, hastened to say something comforting, with all the hopefulness of youth.

"Don't give up yet, father," said he.

"The sale is more than a week off, and you may be able to get the money somehow before then."

Mr. M'Leod shook his head without raising it from his hands.

He had exhausted every available resource, and saw no way in which help could come.

He was not a religious man, although of unblemished integrity of character, and had no faith to sustain him in his grievous trial; nor did his wife know how to lay hold upon God, and claim the fulfilment of his promises.

In this they both had much to learn from their own children, for, thanks to sound teaching in Sunday school, Rob and Jessie believed in the prayer of faith.

They believed God was always ready and willing to respond in his wisdom to the petitions of his children, and when they learned of their father's trouble, their thoughts took the same direction.

That night, when Rob went up to his room, he found Jessie there.

"O Rob!"

she hastened to say, "I've been waiting for you to come."

"What do you want to do, Jessie?"

inquired Rob.

"Why, Rob, you know when father told us of his trouble, I made up my mind to ask God to help him out of it.

What is that in the Bible about God doing anything that two of his people agree to ask for?"

Proud of his memory, Rob promptly repeated the verse: "If two of you shall agree on earth as touching anything that they shall ask, it shall be done for them."

"Yes, that's it!"

exclaimed Jessie.

"Now then, Rob, can't we agree to ask God to help father to pay off that dreadful Mr. Shearer?"

"Of course we can," responded Rob heartily; "and we'll do it right away."

So down on their knees they went, and each in turn presented an earnest, simple petition to God that aid should be granted their father in the present emergency.

When they rose their faces were radiant.

"It will be all right now, won't it, Rob?"

said Jessie, as she went to her own room.

The following day passed without any sign of an answer, and so did the next.

Rob, boy-like, began to grow impatient, but Jessie was more trustful.

Each night they renewed their united requests.

On the third night Rob, the window of whose room overlooked the mill-pond, happening to awake about midnight, thought he heard a most unusual splashing noise coming from the pond.

Sitting up in bed, and listening attentively, he asked himself:-- "What can it be?

Has somebody fallen into the pond?

No, it can't be that, or there would be cries for help.

Oh!

it's only some old cow that's fooling around."

He was about to accept this explanation and settle down to sleep again, when there was added to the frantic splashing a hoarse bellow such as no domestic animal ever uttered.

"I must see what that is," said he to himself.

So out of bed he jumped, hurried on his clothes, and slipping quietly out of the house, hastened across the yard to the mill-platform, from which he could command a view of the whole pond.

It was a bright, clear night, with the moon at the full, and the still waters of the pond reflected its silver rays like a huge mirror.

At first the boy could see nothing to account for the strange noises he had heard, but presently he discovered a big creature, whose exact nature he could not make out, in the deepest part of the pond, where, surrounded by the floating logs which had rendered futile all its efforts to extricate itself, it was, for the moment, resting quietly as though exhausted.

Rob's appearance upon the platform evidently aroused the creature to fresh exertions, and it proceeded to fling itself about with reckless fury, in the course of which its head emerged from the shadow into a broad band of light, and with a cry of astonishment Rob, who had been bending over the edge of the platform, sprang to his feet.

"Why, it's a moose!"

he exclaimed; "and a monster one, too.

And I'm going to catch him."

Then looking down at the imprisoned animal, he added: "Just stay there, my beauty; I'll be back in a jiffy to look after you."

Darting over to the house he quickly aroused his father, who, as soon as he had assured himself that his son's story was correct, hastened to call up some of the neighbours.

He did not stop to think what he would do with the moose when he had him safely secured.

He was merely glad of a diversion that would help him to forget his troubles for a while.

But Rob already had a scheme worked out in his mind, of which, however, he intended to say nothing until the capture had been successfully accomplished.

Then he would let it be known.

The neighbours responded readily to Mr. M'Leod's summons, and in a quarter of an hour half-a-dozen men were upon the scene, some armed with pitchforks, others with stakes, and all eager to have a share in the honours of the capture.

Many and various were the suggestions as to the best plan for getting the animal out of the pond uninjured, but no sooner had Mr. M'Leod offered his than it was unanimously adopted as the best.

By pushing away the logs a clear space could be made leading to the incline up which the logs were drawn to meet their fate at the saw's teeth, and the miller's idea was to lasso the moose by the antlers, drag the creature through the water to the foot of the incline, then attach the rope to the chain for drawing up the logs, and turn on the water-power.

The strongest animal that ever stood on four legs could not resist the tug of the chain, and thus the moose would be drawn up on the platform, and kept there, a safe prisoner, until he could be removed to the barn.

Mr. M'Leod had little difficulty in getting the rope fastened to the big branching antlers, and not much more in towing his captive around to the foot of the incline.

But then came the rub.

The monarch of the forest fought frantically against being drawn out of the water, and it seemed as if he might kill himself in his desperate efforts for freedom.

[Illustration: CAPTURING THE MOOSE.

] There was no resisting the inexorable strain of the log-chain, however, and foot by foot he was compelled to ascend the incline until he reached the platform.

Then the power was shut off, and Mr. M'Leod decided that it was best to allow the great creature to stay where he was until daylight.

The men all went back to their beds, but Rob remained.

He did not want to leave the prize which had thus strangely fallen into his hands, and which he hoped to make signally helpful in his father's trouble.

So he chose a corner of the platform where he could keep the moose in full view, and composed himself to wait for the morning.

As he sat there his heart went up in gratitude to God, for right before him had he not the answer to the prayer he and Jessie had united in offering?

With the dawn Mr. M'Leod and the other men returned, and by dint of much shouting, flourishing of pitchforks, and tugging of ropes, the moose, after many furious attempts at breaking away, was at length safely conveyed to the barn, and securely fastened up in such a manner that he could do himself no hurt, struggle and kick as he might.

"Hip, hip, hurrah!"

shouted Rob as the big door closed with a bang, and he flung himself against it to make sure that it was shut tight.

"We've got him all right enough.

He can't get out of there until we want him."

"And now that you have got him, Robby," said the miller, laying his hand affectionately on the boy's shoulder.

"perhaps you'll tell us what you are going to do with him."

Up to this point Rob had kept his own counsel, because his Scotch shrewdness told him it would be best to do so until the capture was successfully effected.

But now there was no longer need for reserve.

"You remember that gentleman who was here hunting last winter, don't you, father?"

said he, looking up eagerly into Mr. M'Leod's face.

"You mean Professor Owen from New York."

"Yes.

Well, you know he said he'd give a hundred pounds for a full-grown moose alive; and now you must write and tell him you've got a beauty for him, and to come along and get it."

The miller's face became radiant as his son spoke.

He now understood what had been in Rob's mind, and why he had shown such intense anxiety to secure the moose uninjured.

"God bless you, my boy!"

he exclaimed, throwing his arms around his neck, for the revulsion of feeling broke down his characteristic reserve.

"I see what you've been driving at.

You always were a bright lad, and now, maybe, you're going to save me from ruin.

I won't wait to write Professor Owen; I'll telegraph him.

He left me his address so that I might let him know when the hunting was good."

Mounting his best horse, Mr. M'Leod hastened to the village, and sent this despatch to the professor: "Have a splendid live moose in my barn.

Do you want him?"

Before many hours the reply came: "Am coming for him by first train."

The following evening Professor Owen appeared.

When he saw the moose he fairly shouted with delight.

"A perfect specimen, and in the very prime of life," he cried.

"I'll give you a hundred pounds for him on the spot.

Will that be right?"

The offer was gladly accepted; and as soon as the necessary arrangements could be made, the moose was taken away to become the chief attraction in a famous zoological garden.

On the day before the sheriff's sale Mr. M'Leod, greatly to the money-lender's chagrin, paid his claim in full, and cleared his property from all encumbrance.

That night they had a praise-meeting at the mill; for when Mr. M'Leod was told about Rob and Jessie praying together for his deliverance from the grasp of Moses Shearer his heart was deeply stirred, and he joined in thanking God who had thus signally answered the children's petitions.

Not only so, but both he and his wife were moved to withhold no longer from God's service, and they became active, happy members of the church.