A Countess from Canada | Page 8

help yourself at all?" she asked urgently, knowing that it was quite impossible for her unaided strength to get him clear of the fork. But his only reply was a groan, and Katherine began to grow frightened. It was quite impossible to leave him while she went to summon aid, and equally impossible to get help without going for it. Meanwhile the cold was so intense that every moment of waiting became a risk. Even the dogs were whining and restless, impatient to get off again for the last stage of their journey.
"Father, you must help yourself," the girl cried despairingly. "I can't possibly get you out of the tree alone, and you will just freeze to death if you are not quick."
The urgency of her tone seemed to rouse him a little, and, seeing that he appeared to be coming to himself again, she rubbed his face briskly with snow, which quickened his faculties, and incidentally made the wound on his cheek smart horribly; but that was a minor matter, the chief thing being to make him bestir himself. Then by a great effort she lifted him up again, and this time he put out his hand and clutched at the trunk of the tree, and so kept himself from slipping back into the fork, while she ran round and pulled him clear of the trees, making him lean upon her whilst she debated on her next move.
"I don't know how we shall get home; I can't walk," he said feebly.
"Of course you can't; that is entirely out of the question," she said briskly. "I must unload the two sledges, and cache the things close to this tree, under your sledge; then the dogs can draw you home. There is not much over three miles to be done, so we shall not be long."
She made him sit on the snow while she set about her preparations, for he seemed too weak to stand alone. Most of the goods were taken from the dog sledge and piled in a heap at the foot of the forked trees. The other sledge was brought alongside and unloaded also, then Katherine dragged the hand sledge on to the top of the packages, with the runners sticking upwards, so that a curious wolf might think it was a trap of a fresh shape, and avoid it accordingly. All this took time, however, and when she had got her father packed into the sledge in readiness for a start it was almost dark, while the snow was coming down thicker than ever. The brown-and-white dog was howling dismally again, while the black one which had a cropped ear seemed disposed to follow suit.
It was of no use trying to guide the dogs now, and, falling into the rear, Katherine shouted to them to go forward, and left it to their instinct to find the way home. She had to keep shouting and singing to them the whole of the way. If from very weariness her voice sank to silence, they dropped into a slow walk; but when it rang out again in a cheery shout, they plunged forward at a great pace, which was maintained only so long as she continued shouting. But at last, after what seemed an interminable time, she heard the noise of the water coming over Roaring Water Portage; the dogs heard it too, and the need for shouting ceased, for they knew they were almost at the end of the journey.

CHAPTER III
Outwitting the Enemy
Among his neighbours at Seal Cove, 'Duke Radford counted one very pronounced enemy, and that was Oily Dave, master of one of the sealing boats, and keeper of the only whisky saloon within twenty or thirty miles of Roaring Water Portage. The cause of the enmity was now nearly two years old, but like a good many other things it had gained strength with age. Oily Dave had been supplying the red man with liquor, and this in defiance of the law which forbade such sales; 'Duke Radford reported him, and Oily Dave was mulcted in a fine so heavy that it consumed all the profits from his Indian traffic, and a good many other and more legitimate profits also. Since then Oily Dave had hated the storekeeper with a zest and energy which bade fair to become the ruling passion of his life; but except for a few minor disagreeables, that could hardly be said to count, his ill will had thus far not gone beyond sneer and invective.
Katherine was always afraid of him, and of what he might do to her father if he had the chance; for his nature was small and mean, so small and so mean that, though he might not risk a reprisal which would bring him within the reach of