Wrecked but not Ruined | Page 3

wall-like cliff surrounded by a tangled and
trackless forest, they were forced to seek the shores of the sea, and
there, among rocks and ice-drift, pick their way slowly along.
Fortunately this road, just opposite to Jenkins Creek, where the
McLeods had commenced their squatting operations, ran along the
shore at some distance from the entrance to the creek, so that Redding
could pass without encountering the newcomers, whom he was anxious
to avoid until the question of the invasion of the Fur Company's rights
was settled.
Despite their utmost efforts, night began to close upon the travellers
before they reached Bellew's shanty in Boulder Creek.
"Take care, Monsieur, there is von portion dangereux here," said
Francois Le Rue.
"Where?" asked Redding, as he checked the pony a little and looked
earnestly ahead.
"Ah! dere!" exclaimed Le Rue.
His remark was needless, for at that moment the sleigh turned over a
ledge of rock and pitched its occupants into a snow-drift.
"Killded?" gasped the Canadian, as he emerged from the snow with
eyes, ears, and nostrils stuffed full; "no--not quite!"
Satisfying himself that no bones were broken, he turned abruptly to

look for his companion, whose motionless legs sticking out of the drift
were the only visible portions of his body.
Anxiously and swiftly did Francois drag his master out, and great was
his relief when poor Redding looked at him with a bewildered gaze and
demanded to know what had happened!
"Oh! I see, capsized," he said, rising and pressing his hand to his brow,
"I believe I must have hit my head against a stump, for I've been
slightly stunned. However, `all's well that ends well.' Not hurt,
Francois?"
"No, Monsieur,--not fatever."
"That's right, lend a hand to lift the sleigh--hoop! there--jump in."
Le Rue obeyed. The bear-rug was replaced around them, and the pony,
which had stood as quiet as a lamb during the accident, started forward
again.
"Voila! von light," exclaimed the Canadian.
At that moment they had rounded the corner of a high cliff, and come
into view of Boulder Creek. There was just light enough to make the
chaotic grandeur of the place visible in a ghostly degree. Great boulders
and masses of rock, which had fallen from the neighbouring mountains
and cliffs, lay piled about in the creek or gully in wildest confusion.
Some of these masses were as large as a small hut, but they were of all
sizes as well as shapes. It was a weird scene, and forbidding;
nevertheless some human being had seen fit to take up his abode there,
as was made apparent by the light referred to by Le Rue.
Picking their way carefully among the boulders, the travellers at last
reached a log-hut which was so small, weather-worn, and grey, that,
from a short distance, it might have easily been mistaken, even in
daylight, for one of the rocks by which it was surrounded.
The door stood wide open, and through it streamed the light of a

roaring fire of wood. So powerful was the contrast between the ruddy
light and the cold grey scene without, that to the approaching travellers
it appeared as if the whole interior of the hut glowed with fervent heat.
In the small doorway stood the figure of a man who was so large as
almost to fill up the entrance, and so black, by contrast with the
glowing background, that neither feature nor form was distinguishable
save his sharp outline. The outline, however, was a remarkably telling
one. It told of a broad chest and square shoulders, of massive limbs,
and an easy air, and a sturdy attitude, and suggested difficulty in the
way of entering that hut without leave asked and obtained.
"Hallo!" exclaimed the outline, in a voice so deep that it must have
been unfathomable.
"How d'ee do, Bellew?" cried Reginald Redding, as he drove into the
stream of light, pulled up, and sprang from the sleigh.
"Hearty, sir, hearty, thank 'ee," replied the outline, advancing and
becoming a little more visible on the surface as he did so. "Hallo! Le
Rue, how are 'ee? Glad to see you both. Step in. A good fire on a
coldish night is cheery--ain't it, Mister Redding?"
"Indeed it is, Bellew, especially when the night happens to be also
darkish."
"Ha! oui," interposed Le Rue, bustling into the hut with the bear-rug,
"it vas so darkish dat ve capsize under de cliff an' a'most knock de
whole affair to smattoms--sleigh, cheval, an' peepil."
"I'm glad to see that the `peepil' is all right, however," said Bellew,
glancing at his visitors with what may be called a grave smile; "it might
have bin worse, for that's an ugly corner under the cliff, an' needs
careful drivin' even in daylight."
"I've not come off