The Big Otter | Page 6

acquaintance with
every species of track that was possible in that particular region,
rendered a mistake out of the question. There was the step of the leader,
who wore a snow-shoe the shape of which, although not unknown, was
somewhat unfamiliar to us. There was the print of the sled, or toboggan,
which was different in pattern from those used at Dunregan, and there
was the footprint of the man in rear, whose snow-shoe also made an
unfamiliar impression.
"The packet!" exclaimed Lumley, opening his solemn grey eyes to their
widest as he looked up from the track to me.
"At last!" I returned, unconsciously betraying the prolonged state of
suspense with which my mind had been afflicted.
"Come along!" said my companion, starting off homeward at a pace
that was almost too much for me.
We soon reached the outpost, and there stood the makers of the track
which had roused in us so much excitement.
Two strong men, chosen expressly for a duty which required mental
endurance and perseverance as well as physical vigour. They stood at
the door of the entrance-hall, talking with Mr Strang, the one with his
snow-shoes slung over his shoulder on the butt of his gun, the other
using the same implements as a rest for his hands, while Spooner, in a
state of great excitement, was hastily undoing the lashings of the sled,
to get at the precious box which contained "the packet."
"Well, gentlemen, here it is at last," said our chief, with a genial smile
as we came up.
"Yes, we followed the track immediately we struck it," said Lumley,

stooping to assist Spooner in his work.
We soon had the box carried to our chief's private room, while the two
strangers were had off by our men to their own house, there to be
feasted on venison, ptarmigan, salt-pork, fish, and pease-pudding to
satiety, and afterwards "pumped" to a state of exhaustion.
I followed our chief, who had a provokingly deliberate way of opening
the packet and examining its contents, while my feverish agitation and
expectancy increased. There was a humorous twinkle in his eye, I
thought, which told of mischievous purpose, while he kept up a
murmuring commentary.
"Hm! as I expected--no news from Macnab. What's this?--ah! The
Governor! A voluminous epistle, and--hallo! Lumley's friends must be
fond of him. His packet is the biggest in the box. And Spooner too, not
so bad for him. Here, take these to them. Stay--here is a bundle of
letters for the men. You'd better deliver these yourself."
I hesitated, while a mist of great darkness began to descend on my soul.
"Nothing for me, sir?" I asked faintly.
"There seems to be--nothing--stay! what's this?--why, I thought it was a
big book, but, yes, it is a packet for you, Mr Maxby--there!"
My heart leaped into my mouth--almost out of it--as I received a thick
packet wrapped in newspaper.
Hastening to what was called the clerk's winter house with these
treasures I distributed them, and handed the men's packet to one of
themselves, who was eagerly awaiting it. Then I went to my room and
barricaded the door to prevent interruption.
In Bachelors' Hall, as we styled our apartments, we had an inveterate
habit of practical joking, which, however interesting and agreeable it
might be at most times, was in some circumstances rather inconvenient.
To guard against it at such times we were in the habit of retiring to our

respective dens and barricading the doors, the locks being sometimes
incapable of standing the strain brought to bear on them.
On this particular occasion I made my barricade stronger than usual; sat
down on my bed and opened the packet from home.
But here I must let the curtain fall. I cannot suppose that the reader,
however amiable, will sympathise with the joys and sorrows of an
unknown family, interesting though they were to me. I may state,
however, that before I got through the budget it was so late that I turned
into bed and read the remainder there. Then, as the fire in the hall-stove
sank low, the cold obliged me to put on above my voluminous blankets
(we dared not sleep in sheets out there) a thick buffalo robe, which,
besides having on the outside the shaggy hair of the animal, to which it
had belonged, was lined with flannel. Thus nestled into a warm hole, I
read on until a shout arrested me and brought me suddenly back from
the hills of bonny Scotland to the frozen wilderness.
"I say," shouted Lumley at the back of the door, which he saluted with
a kick, "my sister is married!"
"Poor thing!" said I. "Who to?"
"Open the door."
"I can't. I'm in bed."
"You must."
"I won't."
"No! then here