The Trappers Son | Page 7

number of voyageurs and half-breeds, in
their picturesque costumes, were strolling about; multitudes of children
were playing at the doors of the huts; and women were seen going to
and from the stores, or occupied in their daily avocations. Laurence felt
somewhat awe-struck on finding himself among so many strangers, and
kept close to his father. At their entrance they had been saluted by a
pack of savage-looking sleigh-dogs, which came out barking at the
new-comers, but were quickly driven back to their quarters by their
masters.
"Don't mind them, Laurence," said Michael. "As soon as they find that
we are treated as friends, they will cease their yelping, and come
humbly to our feet to seek our favour."
Michael inquired for Mr Ramsay, the chief factor.
"There he comes from his house," answered the man to whom he had
addressed himself.
"What! old friend! I am right glad to see you again," exclaimed Mr
Ramsay, advancing, and with frank cordiality shaking the old trapper
by the hand. "I was afraid, from your long absence, that you would
never find your way back to the fort. And who is this lad? He seems
very young for the life of a trapper."
Michael then introduced Laurence, and narrated how they had lost their
horses and been compelled to tramp the whole distance on foot, not

having met any Indians from whom they could purchase fresh steeds,
or obtain assistance in carrying their bales.
"He looks worn out and ill," said the kind-hearted factor. "Come in to
my house, and we will have him seen to. A comfortable bed and a quiet
night's rest will, I hope, restore him; and you, friend, will, I suspect, be
glad to get that heavy pack off your shoulders."
"The boy has not been much accustomed to beds or houses, and the
change may, as you say, do him good," observed Michael. "But my old
sinews are too tough to feel the weight of this pack, heavy as it is, I'll
allow. However, for the boy's sake, I'll accept your hospitality; and, if
you'll look after him till he is recovered, the best peltries I have shall be
at your service without any other payment."
"Nay, nay, friend; I come frae the Hielands, and have not so far
forgotten the customs of the old country as to receive payment for
entertaining a guest, and as such your son is welcome. However, come
in, and get rid of your packs; and to-morrow, when you have rested, we
will examine their contents and calculate their value."
Poor Laurence tottered on, but scarcely had he reached the entrance of
the house than he sank to the ground. His pack was quickly taken off,
and kindly hands lifted him to a room, where he was undressed and put
to bed--a luxury he had not, as his father had said, for many years
enjoyed. Restoratives were applied; but kind Mrs Ramsay and those of
her household who watched him, as they observed his pale cheeks and
slowly-drawn breath, feared that nature was too far exhausted by the
fatigue he had undergone to recover. The old man's alarm and grief,
when he heard of the dangerous state of his son, was excessive. Kind
Mrs Ramsay did her best to console him, and her young daughter, a
fair-haired, blue-eyed little girl, Jeanie, climbed up on his knee, and
stroked his rough hair, as he hung down his head, utterly overcome.
"We will pray to our merciful Father in heaven to take care of the
young boy, and to make him strong and well again," she whispered.
"You know that God hears our prayers; and oh, how good and kind He
is, to let us speak to Him, and to do what we ask Him in the name of

His dear Son Jesus Christ."
The old man gazed earnestly at the child for a few seconds, and, a look
of anguish passing over his countenance, he shook his head; and then
turning away from her, he put her gently down, as if he was afraid of
being thus again addressed, and answered, "Thank you, thank you, little
damsel; I hope my boy will get well. It will go pretty nigh to finish me
if he does not," he murmured to himself. "I ought to have known that
his strength was not equal to the task I put upon it. If he dies, men will
say, and justly, that I am his murderer."
The old man partook but sparingly of the abundant repast spread before
him, and declining the luxury of a bed, rolled himself up in a blanket,
and took his post in the hall, near the door of the room where Laurence
had been placed, that he might hear from those who were attending on