The Buffalo Runners | Page 5

prepared to face the storm in the cause of humanity. He held the lantern high up first, however, and peered under it as if to observe the full extent of the discomfort before braving it. Just then a furious gust blew out the light.
"Ha! I expected that," he said, with a sigh that was strongly suggestive of relief, as he returned to the fire to relight the lantern.
On going the second time to the door he observed the form of his friend leading the horse past--both of them looking dim and spectral through the driving snow.
"Dechamp have good eyes!" he remarked, halting on the threshold. "There is light enough without the lantern; besides--ha! there, it is out again! What a trouble it is! Impossible to keep it in--such a night!"
"Hee! hee!" giggled Slowfoot, who was busy refilling her pipe.
La Certe was still standing in a state of hesitancy, troubled by a strong desire to help his friend, and a stronger desire to spare himself, when he was thrown somewhat off his wonted balance by the sudden reappearance of Dechamp, leading, or rather supporting, a man.
Need we say that it was Fergus McKay, almost blind and dumb from exhaustion, for the parting from Dan Davidson which we have mentioned had proved to be the last straw which broke them both down, and it is probable that the frozen corpse of poor Dan would have been found next day on the snow, had he not been accidentally met by Dechamp, and taken in charge by the Indian Okematan. Fergus, having a shorter way to go, and, perhaps, possessing a little more vitality or endurance, had just managed to stagger to La Certe's hut when he encountered the same man who, an hour previously, had met and saved his companion further down the Settlement.
The moment Fergus entered the hut, he looked wildly round, and opened his mouth as if to speak. Then he suddenly collapsed, and fell in a heap upon the floor, scattering flakes of snow from his person in all directions.
La Certe and his wife, though steeped in selfishness, were by no means insensible to the sufferings of humanity when these were actually made visible to their naked eyes. Like many--too many--people, they were incapable of being impressed very deeply through their ears, but could be keenly touched through the eyes. No sooner did they behold the condition of Fergus--who was well-known to them--than they dropped their apathetic characters as though they had been garments.
In her haste Slowfoot let fall her pipe, which broke to atoms on the floor--but she heeded it not. La Certe capsized his mug of tea--but regarded it not; and while the former proceeded to remove the shawl from Fergus's neck and chafe his cold hands, the latter assisted Dechamp to drag the exhausted man a little nearer to the fire, and poured a cup of warm tea down his throat.
Their efforts, though perchance not as wisely directed as they might have been, were so vigorously conducted that success rewarded them. Fergus soon began to show signs of returning animation. A hunter of the western wilderness is not easily overcome, neither is he long of reviving, as a rule, if not killed outright.
They set him up in a sitting posture with his back against a box, and his feet towards the fire. Heaving a deep sigh, Fergus looked round with a bewildered, anxious expression. In a moment intelligence returned to his eyes, and he made a violent attempt to rise, but Dechamp held him down.
"Let me up!" he gasped, "life and death are in the matter--if it iss not death already--"
"Be still, Fergus McKay," said Dechamp, with that firmness of manner and tone which somehow command respect; "I know all about it. Take one bit of bread, one swig more of tea, and you go with me to Fort Garry, to tell the Gov'nor what you know. He will send help at once."
Great was the relief of Fergus when he heard this. Submitting to treatment like an obedient child, he was soon fit to stagger to the sleigh or cariole, into which he was carefully stuffed and packed like a bale of goods by La Certe and his wife, who, to their credit be it recorded, utterly ignored, for once, the discomforts of the situation.
Fergus was asleep before the packing was quite done. Then Dechamp jumped in beside him, and drove off in the direction of the Hudson's Bay Company's establishment, Fort Garry, while our worthy couple returned to their hut to indulge in a final and well-earned pipe and a mug of the strongest possible tea.
CHAPTER THREE.
TO THE RESCUE.
Winnipeg city, with its thousands of inhabitants, now covers the spot to which Antoine Dechamp drove his friend Fergus McKay.
At the time we write of, the only habitation