The Buffalo Runners | Page 6

there was Fort Garry, a solitary stone building of some strength, but without regular troops of any kind, and held only by a few employes of the Hudson's Bay Company, who were there only in the capacity of fur-traders.
Here the Governor of the colony received the unexpected guests with hospitality; heard the tale of Fergus with a sympathetic ear, and at once organised a rescue-expedition with dog-sledges and provisions.
While this was being done at the fort, Dan Davidson was similarly employed at Prairie Cottage, the residence of his mother, who, since the death of her husband--a farmer from the Scottish Lowlands--had managed her farm with the aid of her two sons, Dan and Peter; the latter being a youth of seventeen. She was also assisted by her only daughter, Jessie, who was over thirteen years of age, and already esteemed an authority on the subjects of poultry, cookery, and dairy produce. A small servant--a French half-breed named Louise--completed the household of the widow Davidson.
On reaching home, Dan, like Fergus McKay, experienced difficulties that he had not counted on, for his overtaxed strength fairly broke down, and he found himself almost incapable at first of telling his tale of disaster. Then, when he tried to go about the needful preparations for rescue, he found himself unable to resist drowsiness, and if he ventured to sit down for a moment he fell sound asleep at once.
Those who have experienced this condition know how overwhelming and intensely disagreeable it is, especially if resistance to it is rendered imperative by a matter of life or death. Davidson struggled bravely against it of course, but the struggle had already been so long continued that his efforts were now in vain.
Starting up from the supper which Jessie had spread before him, and which he was languidly attempting to eat, he said, almost fiercely, "Where is the wash-tub, Louise?"
The surprised little domestic pointed to the article in question.
"Here; fetch some cold water."
"It is full," said Louise with a strong French accent and a pretty lisp.
Without the ceremony even of throwing back his collar Dan plunged his head into the water, and, after steeping it for a few seconds, drew it out refreshed.
His younger brother entered the room at that moment.
"Peter," he said, drying his head violently with a jack-towel, "have you got the sledge ready, and the provisions packed, and the empty sledge wi' the buffalo-robes?"
"Ay--all ready," answered the other, for he was a sprightly, willing youth, who rejoiced in any unexpected demand on his superabundant energies. "But I say, Dan, you are quite unfit to start off again without rest."
He looked in his brother's face anxiously, for Dan had seated himself once more to his food, but seemed unable to deal with it properly. "Why, you've got the knife and fork in the wrong hands, Dan! You must have an hour's rest before we start."
"Impossible," returned the other with a dazed look, as he seized a mug of water and drank it off. "An hour's delay may mean death to Elspie and old Duncan McKay."
"But let me start off at once," returned Peter, eagerly. "I've a pretty good guess, from your description, where you left them. Besides, the gale is not so bad now. After an hour's sleep you will be able to start fresh, maybe overtake me. Jess will be sure to waken you in--"
He stopped, for his brother's head had bent slowly forward while he was speaking, and now rested on his arms on the table. The worn-out man was sound asleep.
"Just leave him, Peter, and be off wi' the dogs," said Mrs Davidson. "Okematan will keep you in the right track. I'll be sure to wake him in time to catch you up."
"No, mother, not without his leave," said the youth, firmly. "Dan! Dan! rouse up, old boy! Shall we start without you?"
"Yes, yes--I'm ready," said the poor fellow, starting up and swaying to and fro like a drunken man; "but--I say, Peter, I'm done for. I depend on you, lad, to keep me up to the scratch. Lay the dog-whip across my shoulders if I try to lie down. Promise me that. D'ee hear!"
"Yes, I understand," returned the youth with intense earnestness. "Now look here, Dan, you know me: will you trust me?"
"Of course I will," answered Dan with a languid smile.
"Well, then; come along, we'll rescue Elspie--you may depend on that. Okematan and I will look after you and see that all goes right. Come."
He took his brother by the arm, and led him unresistingly away, followed by the dark-skinned Indian, who, with the usual reticence of his race, had stood like a brown statue, silently observing events.
Jessie Davidson, who was a fair and comely maiden, touched him on the arm as he was passing out--
"Oh! take care of him, Okematan,"