The Young Fur Traders

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In process of time spring merged into summer--a season mostly
characterised in those climes by intense heat and innumerable clouds
of musquitoes, whose vicious and incessant attacks render life, for
the time being, a burden. Our three voyageurs, meanwhile, ascended
the Saskatchewan, penetrating deeper each day into the heart of the
North American continent. On arriving at Fort Pitt, they were
graciously permitted to rest for three days, after which they were
forwarded to another district, where fresh efforts were being made to
extend the fur-trade into lands hitherto almost unvisited. This
continuation of their travels was quite suited to the tastes and
inclinations of Harry and Hamilton, and was hailed by them as an
additional reason for self-gratulation. As for Jacques, he cared
little to what part of the world he chanced to be sent. To hunt, to
toil in rain and in sunshine, in heat and in cold, at the paddle or
on the snow-shoe, was his vocation, and it mattered little to the
bold hunter whether he plied it upon the plains of the Saskatchewan
or among the woods of Athabasca. Besides, the companions of his
travels were young, active, bold, adventurous, and therefore quite
suited to his taste. Redfeather, too, his best and dearest friend,
had been induced to return to his tribe for the purpose of mediating
between some of the turbulent members of it and the white men who had
gone to settle among them, so that the prospect of again associating
with his red friend was an additional element in his satisfaction. As
Charley Kennedy was also in this district, the hope of seeing him
once more was a subject of such unbounded delight to Harry
Somerville, and so, sympathetically, to young Hamilton, that it was
with difficulty they could realize the full amount of their good
fortune, or give adequate expression to their feelings. It is
therefore probable that there never were three happier travellers
than Jacques, Harry, and Hamilton, as they shouldered their guns and
paddles, shook hands with the inmates of Fort Pitt, and with light
steps and lighter hearts launched their canoe, turned their bronzed
faces once more to the summer sun, and dipped their paddles again in
the rippling waters of the Saskatchewan River.

As their bark was exceedingly small, and burdened with but little
lading, they resolved to abandon the usual route, and penetrate the
wilderness through a maze of lakes and small rivers well known to
their guide. By this arrangement they hoped to travel more speedily,
and avoid navigating a long sweep of the river by making a number of
portages; while, at the same time, the changeful nature of the route
was likely to render it more interesting. From the fact of its being
seldom traversed, it was also more likely that they should find a
supply of game for the journey.

Towards sunset, one fine day, about two weeks after their departure
from Fort Pitt, our voyageurs paddled their canoe round a wooded
point of land that jutted out from, and partly concealed, the mouth
of a large river, down whose stream they had dropped leisurely during
the last three days, and swept out upon the bosom of a large lake.
This was one of those sheets of water which glitter in hundreds on
the green bosom of America's forests, and are so numerous and
comparatively insignificant as to be scarce distinguished by a name,
unless when they lie directly in the accustomed route of the fur-
traders. But although, in comparison with the freshwater oceans of
the Far West, this lake was unnoticed and almost unknown, it would by
no means have been regarded in such a light had it been transported
to the plains of England. In regard to picturesque beauty, it was
perhaps unsurpassed. It might be about six miles wide, and so long
that the land at the farther end of it was faintly discernible on the
horizon. Wooded hills, sloping gently down to the water's edge;
jutting promontories, some rocky and barren, others more or less
covered with trees; deep bays, retreating in some places into the
dark recesses of a savage-looking gorge, in others into a distant
meadow-like plain, bordered with a stripe of yellow sand; beautiful
islands of various sizes, scattered along the shores as if nestling
there for security, or standing barren and solitary in the centre of
the lake, like bulwarks of the wilderness, some covered with
luxuriant vegetation, others bald and grotesque in outline, and
covered with gulls and other water-fowl,--this was the scene that
broke upon the view of the travellers as they rounded the point, and,
ceasing to paddle, gazed upon it long and in deep silence, their
hands raised to shade their eyes from the sun's rays, which sparkled
in the water, and fell, here in bright spots and broken patches, and
there in yellow floods, upon the rocks, the trees, the forest glades
and plains around them.

"What a glorious scene!" murmured Hamilton, almost unconsciously.

"A perfect paradise!" said Harry, with a long-drawn sigh of
satisfaction.--"Why, Jacques, my friend, it's a matter of wonder to
me that you, a free man, without relations or friends to curb you, or
attract you to other parts of the world, should go boating and
canoeing all over the country at the beck of the fur-traders, when
you might come and pitch your tent here for ever!"

"For ever!" echoed Jacques.

"Well, I mean as long as you live in this world."

"Ah, master," rejoined the guide, in a sad tone of voice, "it's just
because I have neither kith nor kin nor friends to draw me to any
partic'lar spot on arth, that I don't care to settle down in this
one, beautiful though it be."

"True, true," muttered Harry; "man's a gregarious animal, there's no
doubt of that."

"Anon?" exclaimed Jacques.

"I meant to say that man naturally loves company," replied Harry,
smiling.

"An' yit I've seen some as didn't, master; though, to be sure, that
was onnat'ral, and there's not many o' them, by good luck. Yes, man's
fond o' seein' the face o' man."

"And woman, too," interrupted Harry.--"Eh, Hamilton, what say you?--

'O woman, in our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou.'

Alas, Hammy! pain and anguish and every thing else may wring our
unfortunate brows here long enough before woman, 'lovely woman,' will
come to our aid. What a rare sight it would be, now, to see even an
ordinary house-maid or cook out here! It would be good for sore eyes.
It seems to me a sort of horrible untruth to say that I've not seen a
woman since I left Red River; and yet its a frightful fact, for I
don't count the copper-coloured nondescripts one meets with
hereabouts to be women at all. I suppose they are, but they don't
look like it."

"Don't be a goose, Harry," said Hamilton.

"Certainly not, my friend. If I were under the disagreeable necessity
of being anything but what I am, I should rather be something that is
not in the habit of being shot," replied the other, paddling with
renewed vigour in order to get rid of some of the superabundant
spirits that the beautiful scene and brilliant weather, acting on a
young and ardent nature, had called forth.

"Some of these same red-skins," remarked the guide, "are not such bad
sort o' women, for all their ill looks. I've know'd more than one
that was a first-rate wife an' a good mother, though it's true they
had little edication beyond that o' the woods."

"No doubt of it," replied Harry, laughing gaily. "How shall I keep
the canoe's head, Jacques?"

"Right away for the pint that lies jist between you an' the sun."

"Yes; I give them all credit for being excellent wives and mothers,
after a fashion," resumed Harry. "I've no wish to asperse the
characters of the poor Indians; but you must know, Jacques, that
they're very different from the women that I allude to and of whom
Scott sung. His heroines were of a _very_ different stamp and
colour!"

"Did _he_ sing of niggers?" inquired Jacques, simply.

"Of niggers!" shouted Harry, looking over his shoulder at Hamilton,
with a broad grin; "no, Jacques, not exactly of niggers--"

"Hist!" exclaimed the guide, with that peculiar subdued energy that
at once indicates an unexpected discovery, and enjoins caution, while
at the same moment, by a deep, powerful back-stroke of his paddle, he
suddenly checked the rapid motion of the canoe.

Harry and his friend glanced quickly over their shoulders with a look
of surprise.

"What's in the wind now?" whispered the former.

"Stop paddling, masters, and look ahead at the rock yonder, jist
under the tall cliff. There's a bear a-sittin' there, and if we can
only get ashore afore he sees us, we're sartin sure of him."

As the guide spoke, he slowly edged the canoe towards the shore,
while the young men gazed with eager looks in the direction
indicated, where they beheld what appeared to be the decayed stump of
an old tree or a mass of brown rock. While they strained their eyes
to see it more clearly, the object altered its form and position.

"So it is," they exclaimed simultaneously, in a tone that was
equivalent to the remark, "Now we believe, because we see it."

In a few seconds the bow of the canoe touched the land, so lightly as
to be quite inaudible, and Harry, stepping gently over the side, drew
it forward a couple of feet, while his companions disembarked.

"Now, Mister Harry," said the guide, as he slung a powder-horn and
shot-belt over his shoulder, "we've no need to circumvent the beast,
for he's circumvented himself."

"How so?" inquired the other, drawing the shot from his fowling-
piece, and substituting in its place a leaden bullet.

Jacques led the way through the somewhat thinly scattered underwood
as he replied, "You see, Mister Harry, the place where he's gone to
sun hisself is just at the foot o' a sheer precipice, which runs
round ahead of him and juts out into the water, so that he's got
three ways to choose between. He must clamber up the precipice, which
will take him some time, I guess, if he can do it at all; or he must
take to the water, which he don't like, and won't do if he can help
it; or he must run out the way he went in, but as we shall go to meet
him by the same road, he'll have to break our ranks before he gains
the woods, an' _that_'ll be no easy job."

The party soon reached the narrow pass between the lake and the near
end of the cliff, where they advanced with greater caution, and
peeping over the low bushes, beheld Bruin, a large brown fellow,
sitting on his haunches, and rocking himself slowly to and fro, as he
gazed abstractedly at the water. He was scarcely within good shot,
but the cover was sufficiently thick to admit of a nearer approach.

"Now, Hamilton," said Harry, in a low whisper, "take the first shot.
I killed the last one, so it's your turn this time."

Hamilton hesitated, but could make no reasonable objection to this,
although his unselfish nature prompted him to let his friend have the
first chance. However, Jacques decided the matter by saying, in a
tone that savoured strongly of command, although it was accompanied
with a good-humoured smile,--

"Go for'ard, young man; but you may as well put in the primin'
first."

Poor Hamilton hastily rectified this oversight with a deep blush, at
the same time muttering that he never _would_ make a hunter; and then
advanced cautiously through the bushes, slowly followed at a short
distance by his companions.

On reaching the bush within seventy yards of the bear, Hamilton
pushed the twigs aside with the muzzle of his gun; his eye flashed
and his courage mounted as he gazed at the truly formidable animal
before him, and he felt more of the hunter's spirit within him at
that moment than he would have believed possible a few minutes
before. Unfortunately, a hunter's spirit does not necessarily imply a
hunter's eye or hand. Having, with much care and long time, brought
his piece to bear exactly where he supposed the brute's heart should
be, he observed that the gun was on half-cock, by nearly breaking the
trigger in his convulsive efforts to fire. By the time that this
error was rectified, Bruin, who seemed to feel intuitively that some
imminent danger threatened him, rose, and began to move about
uneasily, which so alarmed the young hunter lest he should lose his
shot that he took a hasty aim, fired, and _missed._ Harry asserted
afterwards that he even missed the cliff! On hearing the loud report,
which rolled in echoes along the precipice, Bruin started, and
looking round with an undecided air, saw Harry step quietly from the
bushes, and fire, sending a ball into his flank. This decided him.
With a fierce growl of pain, he scampered towards the water; then
changing his mind, he wheeled round, and dashed at the cliff, up
which he scrambled with wonderful speed.

"Come, Mister Hamilton, load again; quick, I'll have to do the job
myself, I fear," said Jacques, as he leaned quietly on his long gun,
and with a half-pitying smile watched the young man, who madly
essayed to recharge his piece more rapidly than it was possible for
mortal man to do. Meanwhile, Harry had reloaded and fired again; but
owing to the perturbation of his young spirits, and the frantic
efforts of the bear to escape, he missed. Another moment, and the
animal would actually have reached the top, when Jacques hastily
fired, and brought it tumbling down the precipice. Owing to the
position of the animal at the time he fired, the wound was not
mortal; and foreseeing that Bruin would now become the aggressor, the
hunter began rapidly to reload, at the same time retreating with his
companions, who in their excitement had forgotten to recharge their
pieces. On reaching level ground, Bruin rose, shook himself, gave a
yell of anger on beholding his enemies, and rushed at them.

It was a fine sight to behold the bearing of Jacques at this critical
juncture. Accustomed to bear-hunting from his youth, and utterly
indifferent to consequences when danger became imminent, he saw at a
glance the probabilities of the case. He knew exactly how long it
would take him to load his gun, and regulated his pace so as not to
interfere with that operation. His features wore their usual calm
expression. Every motion of his hands was quick and sudden, yet not
hurried, but performed in a way that led the beholder irresistibly to
imagine that he would have done it even more rapidly if necessary. On
reaching a ledge of rock that overhung the lake a few feet he paused
and wheeled about; click went the dog-head, just as the bear rose to
grapple with him; another moment, and a bullet passed through the
brute's heart, while the bold hunter sprang lightly on one side, to
avoid the dash of the falling animal. As he did so, young Hamilton,
who had stood a little behind him with an uplifted axe, ready to
finish the work should Jacques's fire prove ineffective, received
Bruin in his arms, and tumbled along with him over the rock, headlong
into the water, from which, however, he speedily arose unhurt,
sputtering and coughing, and dragging the dead bear to the shore.

"Well done, Hammy," shouted Harry, indulging in a prolonged peal of
laughter when he ascertained that his friend's adventure had cost him
nothing more than a ducking; "that was the most amicable, loving
plunge I ever saw."

"Better a cold bath in the arms of a dead bear than an embrace on dry
land with a live one," retorted Hamilton, as he wrung the water out
of his dripping garments.

"Most true, O sagacious diver! But the sooner we get a fire made the
better; so come along."

While the two friends hastened up to the woods to kindle a fire,
Jacques drew his hunting-knife, and, with doffed coat and upturned
sleeves, was soon busily employed in divesting the bear of his
natural garment. The carcass, being valueless in a country where game
of a more palatable kind was plentiful, they left behind as a feast
to the wolves. After this was accomplished and the clothes dried,
they re-embarked, and resumed their journey, plying the paddles
energetically in silence, as their adventure had occasioned a
considerable loss of time.

It was late, and the stars had looked down for a full hour into the
profound depths of the now dark lake ere the party reached the ground
at the other side of the point, on which Jacques had resolved to
encamp. Being somewhat wearied, they spent but little time in
discussing supper, and partook of that meal with a degree of energy
that implied a sense of duty as well as of pleasure. Shortly after,
they were buried in repose, under the scanty shelter of their canoe.

CHAPTER XXVI.

An unexpected meeting, and an unexpected deer-hunt--Arrival at the
outpost--Disagreement with the natives--An enemy discovered, and a
murder.

Next morning they rose with the sun, and therefore also with the
birds and beasts.

A wide traverse of the lake now lay before them. This they crossed in
about two hours, during which time they paddled unremittingly, as the
sky looked rather lowering, and they were well aware of the danger of
being caught in a storm in such an egg-shell craft as an Indian
canoe.

"We'll put in here now, Mister Harry," exclaimed Jacques, as the
canoe entered the mouth of one of these small rivulets which are
called in Scotland _burns_, and in America _creeks_; "it's like that
your appetite is sharpened after a spell like that. Keep her head a
little more to the left--straight for the p'int--so. It's likely
we'll get some fish here if we set the net."

"I say, Jacques, is yon a cloud or a wreath of smoke above the trees
in the creek?" inquired Harry, pointing with his paddle towards the
object referred to.

"It's smoke, master; I've seed it for some time, and mayhap we'll
find some Injins there who can give us news of the traders at Stoney
Creek."

"And pray, how far do you think we may now be from that place?"
inquired Harry.

"Forty miles, more or less."

As he spoke the canoe entered the shallow water of the creek, and
began to ascend the current of the stream, which at its mouth was so
sluggish as to be scarcely perceptible to the eye. Not so, however,
to the arms. The light bark, which while floating on the lake had
glided buoyantly forward as if it were itself consenting to the
motion, had now become apparently imbued with a spirit of
contradiction, bounding convulsively forward at each stroke of the
paddles, and perceptibly losing speed at each interval. Directing
their course towards a flat rock on the left bank of the stream, they
ran the prow out of the water and leaped ashore. As they did so the
unexpected figure of a man issued from the bushes, and sauntered
towards the spot. Harry and Hamilton advanced to meet him, while
Jacques remained to unload the canoe. The stranger was habited in the
usual dress of a hunter, and carried a fowling piece over his right
shoulder. In general appearance he looked like an Indian; but though
the face was burned by exposure to a hue that nearly equalled the red
skins of the natives, a strong dash of pink in it, and the mass of
fair hair that encircled it, proved that as Harry paradoxically
expressed it, its owner was a _white_ man. He was young, considerably
above the middle height, and apparently athletic. His address and
language on approaching the young men put the question of his being a
_white_ man beyond a doubt.

"Good-morning, gentlemen," he began. "I presume that you are the
party we have been expecting for some time past to reinforce our
staff at Stoney Creek. Is it not so?"

To this query young Somerville, who stood in advance of his friend,
made no reply, but stepping hastily forward, laid a hand on each of
the stranger's shoulders, and gazed earnestly into his face,
exclaiming as he did so,--

"Do my eyes deceive me? Is Charley Kennedy before me--or his ghost?"

"What! eh," exclaimed the individual thus addressed, returning
Harry's gripe and stare with interest, "is it possible? no--it
cannot--Harry Somerville, my old, dear, unexpected friend!"--and
pouring out broken sentences, abrupt ejaculations, and incoherent
questions, to which neither vouchsafed replies, the two friends gazed
at and walked round each other, shook hands, partially embraced, and
committed sundry other extravagances, utterly unconscious of or
indifferent to the fact that Hamilton was gazing at them, open-
mouthed, in a species of stupor, and that Jacques was standing by,
regarding them with a look of mingled amusement and satisfaction. The
discovery of this latter personage was a source of renewed delight
and astonishment to Charley, who was so much upset by the commotion
of his spirits, in consequence of this, so to speak, double shot,
that he became rambling and incoherent in his speech during the
remainder of that day, and gave vent to frequent and sudden bursts of
smothered enthusiasm, in which it would appear, from the occasional
muttering of the names of Redfeather and Jacques, that he not only
felicitated himself on his own good fortune, but also anticipated
renewed pleasure in witnessing the joyful meeting of these two
worthies ere long. In fact, this meeting did take place on the
following day, when Redfeather, returning from a successful hunt,
with part of a deer on his shoulders, entered Charley's tent, in
which the travellers had spent the previous day and night, and
discovered the guide gravely discussing a venison steak before the
fire.

It would be vain to attempt a description of all that the reunited
friends said and did during the first twenty-four hours after their
meeting: how they talked of old times, as they lay extended round the
fire inside of Charley's tent, and recounted their adventures by
flood and field since they last met; how they sometimes diverged into
questions of speculative philosophy (as conversations _will_ often
diverge, whether we wish it or not), and broke short off to make
sudden inquiries after old friends; how this naturally led them to
talk of new friends and new scenes, until they began to forecast
their eyes a little into the future; and how, on feeling that this
was an uncongenial theme under present circumstances, they reverted
again to the past, and by a peculiar train of conversation--to
retrace which were utterly impossible--they invariably arrived at
_old_ times again. Having in course of the evening pretty well
exhausted their powers, both mental and physical, they went to sleep
on it, and resumed the colloquial _melange_ in the morning.

"And now tell me, Charley, what you are doing in this uninhabited
part of the world, so far from Stoney Creek," said Harry Somerville,
as they assembled round the fire to breakfast.

"That is soon explained," replied Charley. "My good friend and
superior, Mr. Whyte, having got himself comfortably housed at Stoney
Creek, thought it advisable to establish a sort of half outpost, half
fishing-station about twenty miles below the new fort, and believing
(very justly) that my talents lay a good deal in the way of fishing
and shooting, sent me to superintend it during the summer months. I
am, therefore, at present monarch of that notable establishment,
which is not yet dignified with a name. Hearing that there were
plenty of deer about twenty miles below my palace, I resolved the
other day to gratify my love of sport, and at the same time procure
some venison for Stoney Creek; accordingly, I took Redfeather with
me, and--here I am."

"Very good," said Harry; "and can you give us the least idea of what
they are going to do with my friend Hamilton and me when they get
us?"

"Can't say. One of you, at any rate, will be kept at the creek, to
assist Mr. Whyte; the other may, perhaps, be appointed to relieve me
at the fishing for a time, while _I_ am sent off to push the trade in
other quarters. But I'm only guessing. I don't know anything
definitely, for Mr. Whyte is by no means communicative."

"An' please, master," put in Jacques, "when do you mean to let us off
from this place? I guess the bourgeois won't be over pleased if we
waste time here."

"We'll start this forenoon, Jacques. I and Redfeather shall go along
with you, as I intended to take a run up to the creek about this time
at any rate.--Have you the skins and dried meat packed, Redfeather?"

To this the Indian replied in the affirmative, and the others having
finished breakfast, the whole party rose to prepare for departure,
and set about loading their canoes forthwith. An hour later they were
again cleaving the waters of the lake, with this difference in
arrangement, that Jacques was transferred to Redfeather's canoe,
while Charley Kennedy took his place in the stern of that occupied by
Harry and Hamilton.

The establishment of which our friend Charley pronounced himself
absolute monarch, and at which they arrived in the course of the same
afternoon, consisted of two small log houses or huts, constructed in
the rudest fashion, and without any attempt whatever at architectural
embellishment. It was pleasantly situated on a small bay, whose
northern extremity was sheltered from the arctic blast by a gentle
rising ground clothed with wood. A miscellaneous collection of
fishing apparatus lay scattered about in front of the buildings, and
two men and an Indian woman were the inhabitants of the place; the
king himself, when present, and his prime minister, Redfeather, being
the remainder of the population.

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