To The West Part 61

"Only under certain circ.u.mstances, my lad. There are several kinds here, varying very little. I mean beginning with the smallest; he strongly resembles the next larger, and he again the one larger still, and so on, till we get up to the cinnamon, and from him to the great grizzly, who is a fierce beast best avoided. As for the others, they are stupid, inoffensive creatures, whose great aim in life is to get out of man's way, and who will not interfere with him or fight if they are left alone. Now then, what do you say to going on?"

"By all means," said Gunson; and we rose, to my regret, for I had enjoyed the meal and rest, and the hunting narratives were delightful.

We were all ready for starting, and I shouldered one pack, Quong loading himself up with the deer-meat, and our new friend and his follower insisting upon helping to share our burden, while I noticed that Mike, as he was called, kicked the burning embers about in all directions so as to extinguish the fire.

"What is that for?" said our new companion, interpreting my looks; "that is what every hunter or traveller should do. Never leave a fire. There is abundance of wood--huge forests all about, but none that ought to be destroyed. The pine-trees burn fiercely."

I nodded, for I knew.

"And, once a forest is set on fire, we never know where it may end."

We walked on, chatting about the beauty of the country, which every minute grew more open; and I was listening full of interest, when Esau gave my jacket a tug.

"I say, who is he?" came in a whisper.

"Don't know. Going to show us the way to the Fort."

"Is it much further?"

"Oh no," I whispered back; "only a mile or two."

"Thank goodness," murmured Esau; "I am getting so tired."

It proved to be only about a mile and a half, or, as I ought to call it in that country of no roads and many climbs and descents, about three-quarters of an hour's walk, before we came upon a wide, open spot, dotted with trees like a park, through which the river ran, making a sharp elbow, at the corner of which there was what seemed to be a high fence, with square wooden buildings at two of the corners. These took my attention directly, for they looked like strong, square, wooden towers, trying to be like the sides of a man-of-war, inasmuch as they were fitted with portholes, out of which projected the muzzles of small cannon. I could see that there was a rough trail leading up to a grim gateway in the square fence, and that the nearer we got to the place, the bigger and stronger that fence looked, and that inside was quite a large square with huts and other buildings, and what seemed to be a garden, beside which there were cultivated fields with corn growing and potatoes, outside.

"So that's Fort Elk, is it?" said Gunson, thoughtfully. "Why, I suppose you could stand quite a siege there from the Indians."

"We could, and have done so before now."

"But what about fire?" continued Gunson.

"That is our worst enemy," said the stranger, as he struck the rough beaten path.

"But where is your garrison?" said Gunson. "Oh, busy about in the stores and garden. We are not at war with any of the people about, so there is no occasion to play at soldiers now."

"But where is your ranch?" I said, as we approached the gate.

"Oh, inside the fence, of course."

"Then you live in the Fort?" I said, looking at him curiously, for a suspicion was beginning to rise in my breast, as we came right up to the great palisade, and I realised how much bigger it all was than it had seemed.

"Yes," he replied, smiling, "I live in the Fort--the Hudson's Bay Company's trading store and station; and I bid you all a hearty welcome."

"May I know whom we have to thank before you show my young friend Gordon here to the chief's place. You ought to go to him first, Gordon, my lad."

"Yes, that is quite right," said our friend, smiling; "but you can do that without trouble, for my name is Raydon. I am the chief officer here."

I stopped short and stared, and Esau's jaw seemed to drop so as to show the whole interior of his mouth.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

AN AWAKENING.

After the first fit of startling I don't think I was much surprised, for something seemed to have suggested that this might be Mrs John's brother.

He smiled at us, as if amused, and led the way to one of the wooden buildings, where wood was burning in a stone fire-place.

"This is our travellers' hotel," he said, as we entered the bare-looking room, which was beautifully clean. "Don't trouble about cooking or preparing anything, for you are my guests. There is a sleeping-place here."

He walked across to a door at one corner, and showed me another fair-sized place, bare as the first, but beautifully white and clean, and with some of the boards looking quite ornamental from the fine grain. There was a row of sleeping-bunks and plenty of water ready, and plain and rough as everything was, it seemed princely to the style of sleeping accommodation we had been accustomed to for so long.

He nodded and left us, and we had to explain to Quong that he was not to cook and prepare our evening meal, an explanation which for the first time made the little yellow-faced fellow look discontented.

"You all velly angly? What Quong been do?"

"Nothing at all. Mr Raydon's people are going to send us our supper."

"Don't like--don't like," he said, shaking his head. "All angly. Quong no make good blead?"

"Yes; everything has been capital," I said. "Don't you understand?"

"No; can't undlestan. Quong velly solly. Go now?"

"No, no. Stop."

He shook his head and went and sat doleful-looking and unhappy in one corner; out of which he had to be almost dragged at last to partake of the evening meal Mr Raydon sent in for us, absolutely refusing to join us, and waiting patiently till we had done.

There was capital bread, plenty of tea with milk and sugar, cold ham, and hot slices of the deer-meat we had brought with us, and when we had finished and set Quong to his supper, Gunson went to the door to smoke his pipe, while Esau came to me smiling.

"Rather lonely sort of place," he said, "but it will do, eh?"

"Oh yes, if Mr Raydon is willing for us to stay."

"Eh? Why, of course he will be, won't he? I say, though, what lovely ham!"

"What's the matter with Quong?" I said, for the little fellow was muttering and grumbling as he sat on the wooden bench at the well-scrubbed table.

I went to him, and asked what was wrong.

"Allee dleadful," he said. "No cookee meat plopelly. No makee tea plopelly. Blead bad."

"Why, I'm sure it isn't," I said, crumbling off a piece to taste.

"Yes; allee bad. No bake blead to-day. Blead high."

"High?" I said; "you mean stale?"