To The West Part 23

As we sat chatting with Gunson the rest of that day and evening, he seemed to puzzle me, for sometimes he talked quite like a steerage pa.s.senger, just as the rough-looking man he seemed should talk, while at others, words and ideas kept slipping out which made me think he must be one who had had a good education. He had travelled a great deal, as we knew, but he seemed singularly reserved about his intentions. That he was going to the Fraser River he made no secret; but though he kept us in the dark, he somehow or another, now that he was more with us, contrived to possess himself of all our projects.

He seemed at times quite changed, and his manner set me wondering why it was that, though we had pa.s.sed nearly five months together on board the _Albatross_, seeing us every day, he had rarely spoken to us then, and we parted almost as much strangers as on the first day when we encountered each other in the dark cabin of the s.h.i.+p.

First one and then the other would think he had found a clue to our companion's intentions; but when we parted for the night we felt far from sure, but more curious than ever.

"So you are going hunting, are you?" he said, in the course of our conversation.

"No," I said.

"What do you call it then, a chase--wild-goose chase?"

"I don't see that it's a wild-goose chase for two lads to come to a new country to try and get on," I said.

"Not a bit, my lad, but a very worthy thing to do. I meant it was rather a wild-goose chase for this friend of yours to send you in the hope of his brother-in-law helping you. Isn't he rather an inconsistent sort of a gentleman?"

"Mr John Dempster is one of the best of men," I said warmly.

"Perhaps so; but the best of men make mistakes sometimes, and it looks like one to me for him to be taking a sick wife right across the country to this new home. Tried it before, perhaps?"

"No," I said; "Mr John was never out of England. He told me so."

"Then he will have rather a startling experience, and I wish him well through with it."

"I say, don't talk like that," said Esau, suddenly, "because my mother's there."

"Then I wish her well out of it too."

"Have you ever made the journey?" I said eagerly.

"Yes, once," said Gunson, quietly. "Once was enough."

"But Mrs John's brother told them he thought it would do his sister good."

"Well, it may. I'm not a doctor; but after what I went through I should hesitate about taking a delicate woman such a route. And you too. When you get to the Fraser, how do you mean to journey hundreds of miles up to Fort Elk?"

I was silent, for it seemed to me as if we were for the first time coming face to face with the difficulties of our task.

"Dunno," said Esau, thoughtfully. "S'pose there ain't no 'buses."

"No, nor yet cabs," said Gunson, laughing.

"Might be a stage-coach running now and then, p'r'aps."

"My good lad, there isn't even a road. Perhaps there is a trail. There is sure to be that, of course, for the Indians would go to the Fort with their pelting."

"With their what?" said Esau.

"Pelts--skins, to sell to the company's agent."

"Oh," said Esau.

"But the river," I said suddenly. "We could go up that by a boat, couldn't we?"

Gunson laughed.

"Yes, there is a river," he said; "but, like all mountain streams, boats cannot go up very far for the torrents and falls and rocks. Have you any arms?"

"Of course," said Esau.

"I mean weapons."

"No," I said.

"Humph! Perhaps better without them--at your age."

"You have," I said, as I glanced toward his hip-pocket.

Gunson nodded.

"Got a gun too?" said Esau.

"A rifle or two," replied our companion, rather reluctantly; and he rose then and left the room, as if to avoid being questioned.

"Hunting and shooting, that's what he's after," said Esau triumphantly, as soon as we were alone.

And at that moment I could not help thinking that he was right, and that we had hit upon a very satisfactory companion, for part of our journey at least, if it did not turn out that Gunson had some designs of his own.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

A SERIOUS TROUBLE.

Esau took it all coolly enough. I believe he thought hard sometimes, but it was soon over; and to him the most serious things in life seemed to be making a big meal and having a good sleep.

Now for my part I could not help thinking a great deal, and worrying so much about the future that my thoughts would not let me sleep.

My thoughts generally took this form--"Suppose--" And then I used to be supposing: suppose Mrs John were taken much worse and died; suppose the party were attacked by Indians; suppose they never got across all that great stretch of country; suppose Esau and I were lost in the woods, to starve to death, or drowned in the river, and so on, and so on; till toward morning sleep would come, and I began dreaming about that long-haired dark Yankee loafer, who had got hold of me, and was banging my head against the ground, and trying to kill me, till I opened my eyes the next morning and found that it was Esau.

"I say," he cried, grinning, "don't you ever call me a sleepy-headed chap again. Why, I've been shaking you, and doing everything I could to rouse you up."

"Oh," I exclaimed, "I am so glad! I was dreaming."

"As if I didn't know. Why, you were on your back snorting, and puffing, and talking all sorts of nonsense. That's eating 'Merican pie for supper."

"I couldn't go to sleep for hours."

"Yah! that's what mother always said when she was late of a morning, and I had to light the fire. I say, wonder how they are getting on?"