On the Indian Trail | Page 4

the building for other places of ingress to
make sure that there were no openings sufficiently large for even a
naked savage to squeeze through. When thoroughly satisfied with our
survey, we collected a quantity of dried hay, and made ourselves some
comfortable seats, where we could, without being seen, command the
large end doors: one of which was fastened inside with a hook and
staple, while the other had only the usual wooden latch.
We moved about and chatted on various subjects during the long
beautiful gloaming, and when the darkness settled down upon us, we
made ourselves comfortable in our assigned positions, and with rides in
hand, were indeed sentinels on the watch. As the excitement of the
occasion wore off, my young companion who was still in his teens,
began to feel exceedingly drowsy. I told him to cuddle down in the hay
and go to sleep for a while, and if there was any appearance of danger I
would instantly awake him. Very soon he was sleeping quietly at my

feet. He had generously requested me to awake him when he had slept
an hour or so, offering then to take my place. Thanking him, I said:
"Get some sleep if you can; there is none, however, for me to-night."--I
remembered too well those taunting words, and could not have slept
had I tried.
As the hours slowly rolled along, I could not but think of the strange
transitions of the last few weeks. Not six weeks before this I was the
pastor of a large church in a flourishing city. Then I was living in a
beautiful home with all the comforts and conveniences of civilisation
around me, where the vigilant policemen paced their various rounds,
while we in peace and safety rested without one thought of danger; now
I was in the far West, away from the society and comforts of other days,
on the boundless plains where dangers lurk, and lawless, thievish
vagabonds abound. Not long ago I was in my own pulpit preaching to
large congregations; now, during the quiet hours of this night, I was
sitting on a bundle of dried prairie grass in an old barn, defending a lot
of horses from horse thieves. Strange transformations are these. Truly
life is a play, and we, the actors, little know what parts we shall next be
called on to assume.
Thus I mused; bub hush! What noise is that? Surely it cannot be that a
cunning horse thief would come so deliberately this beautiful starlit
night and try at the principal door to seek an entrance. No stealthy
Indian clever at horse stealing would begin his operations in such a
way.
But there is the sound, nevertheless. Evidently it is that of a hand
feeling for the latch.
Strict orders had been given at the camp, that under no consideration
should any one of our party approach the barn after dark. So, here was
an intruder who must be promptly dealt with, before he could draw and
fire.
Springing up and lifting the rifle to my shoulder, I waited until the
intruder's hand had found the latch. Then the door swung open and
there he stood; a very tall man, clearly outlined in the starry night.

My first grim resolve was to fire at once. Then there came the thought:
"It is a terrible thing suddenly to send a soul into eternity. Perhaps he is
not a horse thief. He may be some lone wanderer on the prairies, who,
seeing this old barn, desires to get under its shelter out of the heavy
dews. You have him covered with your rifle; even if he is a desperate
horse thief bent on mischief, ere he can draw his weapons, you can
easily drop him."
These thoughts must have flashed through my brains very rapidly for
the man had not yet entered the barn when I had decided on my course
of action.
So, while keeping him covered with my rifle, and with my hand upon
the trigger, I shouted:
"Who's there?"
"It's only Matthew. Surely you ought to know me by this time."
Instead of an enemy, there came stumbling along in the darkness, one
of our young friends from the camp: a school-teacher, going out to
instruct the Indians in the plains of the Saskatchewan.
Groping his way along, he said: "It is awfully close and hot down there
in the camp, and so I thought I would rather come and spend the rest of
the night with you in the barn."
Foolish fellow! he little knew how near he had come to losing his life
by this direct breach of orders.
As I recognised his voice in answer to my challenge, and realised how
near I had come to shooting one of