A Countess from Canada | Page 6

the fort and the settlement. Very often when 'Duke Radford
ran out of some easy-to-sell commodity he was able to replenish his
stock from the fort, while he in his turn accepted furs in barter from his
customers, which he disposed of to the agent when next he visited the
fort. As on the journey to the second portage, 'Duke Radford went first,
drawing a laden sledge, followed by Katherine, who looked after the
dogs. There would be no riding either way to-day, and the daylight
would be only just long enough for the work, the snow on the trail not
being hard enough as yet to make the going very easy.
Fort Garry was reached without incident, although, to Katherine's
secret dismay, her father had not spoken to her once, but had just gone
moodily forward with his head hanging down, and dragging the sledge
after him. He roused up a little when the fort was reached, and talked to
Peter M'Crawney, the agent, an eager-faced Scot with an insatiable
desire for information on all sorts of subjects. Mrs. M'Crawney was an
Irishwoman who was always sighing for the mild, moist climate and
the peat reek of her childhood's home. But Peter knew when he was
well off, and meant to stick to his post until he had saved enough
money to live without work.
"Teaching school, are you? Well it's myself that would like to be one of
your scholars, for it's bonny you look with that scarlet thing wrapped
round your head!" exclaimed Mrs. M'Crawney in an admiring tone,
when Katherine sat down to have a talk with her whilst 'Duke Radford
did his business with the agent.
"You can come if you like; we don't have any age limit at Roaring
Water Portage," Katherine answered with a laugh. She had to be bright
and vivacious despite the heaviness of her heart, for it would never do
to display her secret uneasiness on her father's account, or to betray his
changed condition to strangers.
"And pretty I should look at my age, sitting among the babies learning
to do strokes and pothooks," the Irishwoman said, echoing the laugh.
Then she began to question Katherine eagerly concerning the news
which had filtered through into the solitudes from the great world
outside. "They are saying that the Mr. Selincourt who has bought the

fishing fleet will come here when the waters open; but wherever will he
stay?"
"I don't know; perhaps he will have one of the huts down at Seal Cove,
although they are very dirty. I think if I were in his place I should have
a new hut built, or else live in a tent," Katherine answered.
"He will have a hut built, I expect; then perhaps if he likes the place he
will come every year. Although it's funny the whims rich people have,
to be coming to a place like this, when they might be living in a
civilized country, with everything that heart could desire within a
hand's reach," said Mrs. M'Crawney with a toss of her head.
"I suppose being able to have all they want spoils them so much that
they are always wanting a change. But if we don't start we shall be late
in getting home, and travelling is very bad over the broken ground at
the end of the bay," Katherine said, as she rose and began to draw her
scarlet cloud closer round her head again.
Her father was still talking to Peter M'Crawney when she came in
search of him, but he looked so much relieved at the interruption that
she could only suppose the agent had been talking overmuch about the
rich Englishman who was expected in that remote quarter of the world
next spring, when the waters were open.
"Are you ready to go now?" Katherine asked, a sudden pang of pity
stabbing at her heart, for in the strong light her father's face looked
worn and furrowed, more than she had ever seen it before; indeed, a
look of age had crept over his countenance during the last few days that
was very marked, while his dark hair showed streaks of grey which had
certainly not been there a week ago. He had momentarily taken off his
cap, to do something to one of the lappets which was not comfortable;
but now he put it on again, covering his head, ears, and a good part of
his face as well.
"Yes, I am ready, and rather keen on starting, for there is a damp smell
coming in the air which may mean a slight thaw or more fall, and either
would be bad for us to-day," he answered, lifting his head and sniffing,

like a dog that scents a trail.
"Can't the dogs pull you