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in the carryall； and they all made speed to pack themselves in；
Maimie and her aunt in front； and Hughie on the floor behind with
his legs under the seat； for when once the minister was himself
quite ready； and had got his great meerschaum pipe going； it was
unsafe for any one to delay him a single instant。
The drive to the church was an experience hardly in keeping with
the spirit of the day。 It was more exciting than restful。 Black
was a horse with a single aim； which was to devour the space that
stretched out before him； with a fine disregard of consequence。
The first part of the road up to the church hill and down again to
the swamp was to Black； as to the others； an unmixed joy； for he
was fresh from his oats and eager to go； and his driver was as
eager to let him have his will。
But when the swamp was reached； and the buggy began to leap from
log to log of the corduroy； Black began to chafe in impatience of
the rein which commanded caution。 Indeed； the passage of the swamp
was always more or less of an adventure； the result of which no one
could foretell； and it took all Mrs。 Murray's steadiness of nerve
to repress an exclamation of terror at critical moments。 The
corduroy was Black's abomination。 He longed to dash through and
be done with it； but； however much the minister sympathized with
Black's desire； prudence forbade that his method should be adopted。
So from log to log； and from hole to hole； Black plunged and
stepped with all the care he could be persuaded to exercise； every
lurch of the carryall bringing a scream from Maimie in front and a
delighted chuckle from Hughie behind。 His delight in the adventure
was materially increased by his cousin's terror。
But once the swamp was crossed； and Black found himself on the firm
road that wound over the sand…hills and through the open pine
woods； he tossed his great mane back from his eyes； and getting his
head set off at a pace that foreboded disaster to anything trying
to keep before him； and in a short time drew up at the church
gates； his flanks steaming and his great chest white with foam。
〃My！〃 said Maimie； when she had recovered her breath sufficiently
to speak； 〃is that the church？〃 She pointed to a huge wooden
building about whose door a group of men were standing。
〃Huh…huh； that's it；〃 said Hughie； 〃but we will soon be done with
the ugly old thing。〃
The most enthusiastic member of the congregation could scarcely
call the old church beautiful； and to Maimie's eyes it was
positively hideous。 No steeple or tower gave any hint of its
sacred character。 Its weather…beaten clapboard exterior； spotted
with black knots； as if stricken with some disfiguring disease； had
nothing but its row of uncurtained windows to distinguish it from
an ordinary barn。
They entered by the door at the end of the church； and proceeded
down the long aisle that ran the full length of the building； till
they came to a cross aisle that led them to the minister's pew at
the left side of the pulpit； and commanding a view of the whole
congregation。 The main body of the church was seated with long box
pews with hinged doors。 But the gallery that ran round three sides
was fitted with simple benches。 Immediately in front of the pulpit
was a square pew which was set apart for the use of the elders； and
close up to the pulpit； and indeed as part of this structure； was a
precentor's desk。 The pulpit was； to Maimie's eyes； a wonder。 It
was an octagonal box placed high on one side of the church on a
level with the gallery； and reached by a spiral staircase。 Above
it hung the highly ornate and altogether extraordinary sounding…
board and canopy。 There was no sign of paint anywhere； but the
yellow pine； of which seats； gallery； and pulpit were all made； had
deepened with age into a rich brown； not unpleasant to the eye。
The church was full； for the Indian Lands people believed in going
to church； and there was not a house for many miles around but was
represented in the church that day。 There they sat； row upon row
of men； brawny and brown with wind and sun； a notable company；
worthy of their ancestry and worthy of their heritage。 Beside them
sat their wives； brown； too； and weather…beaten； but strong； deep…
bosomed； and with faces of calm content； worthy to be mothers of
their husbands' sons。 The girls and younger children sat with
their parents； modest； shy； and reverent； but the young men； for
the most part； filled the back seats under the gallery。 And a
hardy lot they were； as brown and brawny as their fathers； but
tingling with life to their finger…tips； ready for anything； and
impossible of control except by one whom they feared as well as
reverenced。 And such a man was Alexander Murray； for they knew
well that； lithe and brawny as they were； there was not a man of
them but he could fling out of the door and over the fence if he so
wished； and they knew； too； that he would be prompt to do it if
occasion arose。 Hence they waited for the word of God with all due
reverence and fear。
In the square pew in front of the pulpit sat the elders； hoary；
massive； and venerable。 The Indian Lands Session were worth
seeing。 Great men they were； every one of them； excepting；
perhaps； Kenneth Campbell； 〃Kenny Crubach；〃 as he was called； from
his halting step。 Kenny was neither hoary nor massive nor
venerable。 He was a short； grizzled man with snapping black eyes
and a tongue for clever； biting speech； and while he bore a
stainless character； no one thought of him as an eminently godly
man。 In public prayer he never attained any great length； nor did
he employ that tone of unction deemed suitable in this sacred
exercise。 He seldom 〃spoke to the question；〃 but when he did
people leaned forward to listen； and more especially the rows of
the careless and ungodly under the gallery。 Kenny had not the look
of an elder； and indeed； many wondered how he had ever come to be
chosen for the office。 But the others all had the look of elders；
and carried with them the full respect and affection of the
congregation。 Even the young men under the gallery regarded them
with reverence for their godly character； but for other things as
well； for these old men had been famous in their day； and tales
were still told about the firesides of the people of their prowess
in the woods and on the river。
There was； for instance； Finlay McEwen； or McKeowen； as they all
pronounced it in that country； who； for a wager； had carried a
four…hundred…pound barrel upon each hip across the long bridge over
the Scotch River。 And next him sat Donald Ross； whose very face；
with its halo of white hair； bore benediction with it wherever he
went。 What a man he must have been in his day！ Six feet four
inches he stood in his stocking soles； and with 〃a back like a barn
door；〃 as his son Danny； or 〃Curly；〃 now in the shanty with
Macdonald Bhain； used to say； in affectionate pride。 Then there
was Farquhar McNaughton； big； kindly； and good…natured； a mighty
man with the ax in his time。 〃Kirsty's Farquhar〃 they called him；
for obvious reasons。 And a good thing for Farquhar it was that he
had had Kirsty at his side during these years to make his bargains
for him and to keep him and all others to them； else he would never
have become the substantial man he was。
Next to Farquhar was Peter McRae； the chief of a large clan of
respectable； and none too respectable； families； whom all alike
held in fear； for Peter ruled with a rod of iron； and his word ran
as law throughout the clan。 Then there was Ian More Macgregor； or
〃Big John Macgregor；〃 as the younger generation called him； almost
as big as Donald Ross and quite as kindly； but with a darker；
sadder face。 Something from his wilder youth had cast its shadow
over his life。 No one but his minister and two others knew that
story； but the old man knew it himself； and that was enough。 One
of those who shared his secret was his neighbor and crony； Donald
Ross； and it was worth a journey of some length to see these two
great old men； one with the sad and the other with the sunny face；
stride off together； staff in hand； at the close of the Gaelic
service； to Donald's home； where the afternoon would be spent in
discourse fitting the Lord's day and in prayer。
The only other elder was Roderick McCuiag； who sat； not in the
elders' pew； but in the precentor's box； for he was the Leader of
Psalmody。 〃Straight Rory；〃 as he was called by the irreverent； was
tall； spare； and straight as a ramrod。 He was devoted to his
office； jealous of its dignity； and strenuous in his opposition to
all innovations in connection with the Service of Praise。 He was
especially opposed to the introduction of those 〃new…fangled
ranting〃 tunes which were being taught the young people by John
〃Alec〃 Fraser in the weekly singing…school in the Nineteenth； and
which were sung at Mrs。 Murray's Sabbath evening Bible class in the
Little Church。 Straight Rory had been educated for a teacher in
Scotland； and was something of a scholar。 He loved school
examinations； where he was the terror of pupils and teachers alike。
His acute mind reveled in the metaphysics of theolog