A Curious Accident
The nearest Hudson's Bay store to Roaring Water Portage was fifteen
miles away by land, but only five by boat, as it stood on an angle
of land jutting into the water, three miles from the mouth of the
river. 'Duke Radford's business took him over to this place, which
was called Fort Garry, always once a week, and sometimes oftener.
Usually either Miles or Phil went with him, although on rare
occasions Katherine took the place of the boys and helped to row
the boat across the inlet to the grim old blockhouse crowning the
height.
It was a week after the trip to the house of Astor M'Kree that the
storekeeper announced his intention of going to Fort Garry, and
said that he should need Miles to help him.
"I must go by land to-day, which is a nuisance, for it takes so
much longer," he declared, as he sat down to breakfast, which at
this time of the year had always to be taken by lamplight.
"Shall I come instead?" asked Katherine, who was frying potatoes at
the stove. "I am quicker on snowshoes than Miles, and he has got
such a bad cold."
"You can if you like, though it isn't work for a girl," he answered
in a dispirited tone.
"It is work for a girl if a girl has got it to do," she rejoined,
with a merry laugh; "and I shall just love to come with you,
Father. When will you start?"
"At dawn," he replied brusquely; and, finishing his meal in
silence, he went into the store.
"Katherine, what is the matter with Father? Do you think he is
ill?" Mrs. Burton asked in a troubled tone. "He has been so quiet
and gloomy for the last few days; he does not eat well, and he does
not seem to care to talk to any of us."
Katherine shivered and hesitated. She knew the moment from which
the change in her father's manner dated, but she could not speak of
it even to her sister. "Perhaps the cold weather tries him a great
deal just at first; it has come so suddenly, and we are not
seasoned to it yet, you know," she answered evasively.
"I hope it is only that," answered Mrs. Burton, brightening up at
the suggestion. "And really the cold has been terribly trying for
the last week, though it won't seem so bad when we get used to it.
I am glad you are going with Father, though, for Miles has such a
dreadful cold, poor boy."
"His own fault," laughed Katherine. "If he will go and sit in a
tub half the day, in the hope of shooting swans, he must expect to
get a cold."
"Boys will do unwise things, I fancy. They can't help it, so it is
of no use to blame them," Mrs. Burton said with a sigh.
Katherine laughed again. Mrs. Burton had a way of never blaming
anyone, and slipped through life always thinking the very best of
the people with whom she came in contact, crediting them with good
intentions however far short they might prove of good in reality.
The sisters were alike in features and in their dainty, womanly
ways, but in character they were a wide contrast. Katherine, under
her girlish softness and pretty winning manner, had hidden a firm
will and purpose, a sound judgment, and a resourcefulness which
would stand her in good stead in the emergencies of life. She
liked to decide things for herself, and choose what she would do;
but Mrs. Burton always needed someone to lean upon and to settle
momentous questions for her.
'Duke Radford was ready to start by the time dawn arrived, and
Katherine was ready too. It was so very cold that she had twisted
a cloud of brilliant scarlet wool all over her head and ears, in
addition to her other wrappings. There were some stores to take to
Fort Garry, and there would be others to bring back, as
considerable trading was done between the fort and the settlement.
Very often when 'Duke Radford ran out of some easy-to-sell
commodity he was able to replenish his stock from the fort, while
he in his turn accepted furs in barter from his customers, which he
disposed of to the agent when next he visited the fort. As on the
journey to the second portage, 'Duke Radford went first, drawing a
laden sledge, followed by Katherine, who looked after the dogs.
There would be no riding either way to-day, and the daylight would
be only just long enough for the work, the snow on the trail not
being hard enough as yet to make the going very easy.
Fort Garry was reached without incident, although, to Katherine's
secret dismay, her father had not spoken to her once, but had just
gone moodily forward with his head hanging down, and dragging the
sledge after him. He roused up a little when the fort was reached,
and talked to Peter M'Crawney, the agent, an eager-faced Scot with
an insatiable desire for information on all sorts of subjects.
Mrs. M'Crawney was an Irishwoman who was always sighing for the
mild, moist climate and the peat reek of her childhood's home. But
Peter knew when he was well off, and meant to stick to his post
until he had saved enough money to live without work.
"Teaching school, are you? Well it's myself that would like to be
one of your scholars, for it's bonny you look with that scarlet
thing wrapped round your head!" exclaimed Mrs. M'Crawney in an
admiring tone, when Katherine sat down to have a talk with her
whilst 'Duke Radford did his business with the agent.
"You can come if you like; we don't have any age limit at Roaring
Water Portage," Katherine answered with a laugh. She had to be
bright and vivacious despite the heaviness of her heart, for it
would never do to display her secret uneasiness on her father's
account, or to betray his changed condition to strangers.
"And pretty I should look at my age, sitting among the babies
learning to do strokes and pothooks," the Irishwoman said, echoing
the laugh. Then she began to question Katherine eagerly concerning
the news which had filtered through into the solitudes from the
great world outside. "They are saying that the Mr. Selincourt who
has bought the fishing fleet will come here when the waters open;
but wherever will he stay?"
"I don't know; perhaps he will have one of the huts down at Seal
Cove, although they are very dirty. I think if I were in his place
I should have a new hut built, or else live in a tent," Katherine
answered.
"He will have a hut built, I expect; then perhaps if he likes the
place he will come every year. Although it's funny the whims rich
people have, to be coming to a place like this, when they might be
living in a civilized country, with everything that heart could
desire within a hand's reach," said Mrs. M'Crawney with a toss of
her head.
"I suppose being able to have all they want spoils them so much
that they are always wanting a change. But if we don't start we
shall be late in getting home, and travelling is very bad over the
broken ground at the end of the bay," Katherine said, as she rose
and began to draw her scarlet cloud closer round her head again.
Her father was still talking to Peter M'Crawney when she came in
search of him, but he looked so much relieved at the interruption
that she could only suppose the agent had been talking overmuch
about the rich Englishman who was expected in that remote quarter
of the world next spring, when the waters were open.
"Are you ready to go now?" Katherine asked, a sudden pang of pity
stabbing at her heart, for in the strong light her father's face
looked worn and furrowed, more than she had ever seen it before;
indeed, a look of age had crept over his countenance during the
last few days that was very marked, while his dark hair showed
streaks of grey which had certainly not been there a week ago. He
had momentarily taken off his cap, to do something to one of the
lappets which was not comfortable; but now he put it on again,
covering his head, ears, and a good part of his face as well.
"Yes, I am ready, and rather keen on starting, for there is a damp
smell coming in the air which may mean a slight thaw or more fall,
and either would be bad for us to-day," he answered, lifting his
head and sniffing, like a dog that scents a trail.
"Can't the dogs pull you a piece, Miss?" asked the agent in a tone
of concern. "It is a shocking long way for a bit of a girl, even
though she is on snowshoes."
"It is not longer for me than for Father, and I don't even have to
drag the sledge as he does," Katherine replied brightly, as she
fitted her moccasined feet into the straps of her snowshoes.
The dogs were in a great hurry to start, and one, a great
brown-and-white beast which always followed next the leader, kept
flinging up its head and howling in the most dismal manner until
they were well on their way. The noise got on Katherine's nerves
to such an extent that she was tempted to use her whip to the dog,
and only refrained because it seemed so cruel to thrash a creature
for just being miserable. To cheer the animals for the heavy work
before them, she talked to them as if they were human beings,
encouraging them so much that they took the first ten miles at a
tremendous rate, following so close on the track of the first
sledge that presently 'Duke Radford held up his hand as a signal
for stopping, then turned round to expostulate in a peevish tone:
"What do you mean by letting the dogs wear themselves out at such a
rate? We shall have one of them dropping exhausted presently, and
then we shall be in a nice fix."
"I haven't used the whip once, Father, but I thought it was better
to get them on as fast as I could, for I have felt and seen ever so
many snowflakes in the last half-hour," Katherine said penitently.
'Duke Radford turned his face rather anxiously windward, and was
considerably worried to find that a few small snowflakes came
dancing slowly down, and that the slight draught of the morning was
changing to a raw, cold wind from off the water.
"It is a fall coming, and by the look of it, it may be heavy. You
had better keep the dogs coming as fast as you can. But stop if I
throw up my hand, or you will be running me down."
"Shall we change places for a time?" asked Katherine. "I am not a
bit tired, but you look just worn out."
"No, no, I can't have you dragging a sledge. But be careful and
keep the dogs from rushing down the slopes and overrunning me," he
answered, then started forward again.
The flakes were falling faster now, but they were so fine that they
would have scarcely counted had it not been for the number of them.
At the end of the next half-hour the fall was like a fog of
whirling atoms, and the travellers looked like moving snow figures.
The dogs were still running well, and Katherine found it hard work
to keep them back, especially on the slopes, where they would
persist in trying to make rushes, so getting thoroughly out of
hand. She was keeping them back down one long bad slope which
abounded in pitfalls, when to her horror she heard her father cry
out, then saw him and his sledge disappear, shooting into a
whirling smother of snow.
[Illustration: 'Duke Radford meets with an accident]
With a sharp order to the dogs to stop, which they promptly obeyed
by dropping in four panting heaps on the snow, she went forward
alone to see what had happened to her father. It was a simple
enough accident, and one that had to be constantly guarded against
in drawing a sledge when travelling on snowshoes. In going down
the slope the sledge had travelled proportionally faster than the
man, and, catching against the framework of one of the snowshoes,
had flung him with tremendous force between two trees. The trees,
which were really two shoots from one root, grew so close together
that when 'Duke Radford was pitched in between them he was wedged
fast by the force of the impact, while the sledge, coming on
behind, bounded on to his prostrate body. He groaned when
Katherine dragged the sledge away, and cried out with the pain when
she tried to help him out.
"Did it hurt you so badly? Oh, I am sorry! But I will be more
careful next time," she said; and, stepping carefully backwards
after that first vain attempt, she slipped her feet clear of the
snowshoes and went closer to the tree, so that she might try to
lift him out of the fork by sheer strength of arm. But the snow
was so soft that she sank in over her ankles, going deeper and
deeper with every attempt which she made to wriggle herself free.
"This won't do," she said sharply. "I won't be long, Father dear,
but I must pack the snow a bit before I can get firm standing
ground."
Slipping her father's snowshoes, one of which was broken, from his
feet, she took the broken part and proceeded to beat the snow firm
all round the trees. This took perhaps ten minutes, although she
worked so hard that she perspired despite the cold. The snow was
firm now; she could stand without sinking, and going round in front
of her father she exerted all her strength and lifted him up a
little. He was bleeding from a wound on his face, and seemed to be
quite dazed.
"Can you help yourself at all?" she asked urgently, knowing that it
was quite impossible for her unaided strength to get him clear of
the fork. But his only reply was a groan, and Katherine began to
grow frightened. It was quite impossible to leave him while she
went to summon aid, and equally impossible to get help without
going for it. Meanwhile the cold was so intense that every moment
of waiting became a risk. Even the dogs were whining and restless,
impatient to get off again for the last stage of their journey.
"Father, you must help yourself," the girl cried despairingly. "I
can't possibly get you out of the tree alone, and you will just
freeze to death if you are not quick."
The urgency of her tone seemed to rouse him a little, and, seeing
that he appeared to be coming to himself again, she rubbed his face
briskly with snow, which quickened his faculties, and incidentally
made the wound on his cheek smart horribly; but that was a minor
matter, the chief thing being to make him bestir himself. Then by
a great effort she lifted him up again, and this time he put out
his hand and clutched at the trunk of the tree, and so kept himself
from slipping back into the fork, while she ran round and pulled
him clear of the trees, making him lean upon her whilst she debated
on her next move.
"I don't know how we shall get home; I can't walk," he said feebly.
"Of course you can't; that is entirely out of the question," she
said briskly. "I must unload the two sledges, and cache the things
close to this tree, under your sledge; then the dogs can draw you
home. There is not much over three miles to be done, so we shall
not be long."
She made him sit on the snow while she set about her preparations,
for he seemed too weak to stand alone. Most of the goods were
taken from the dog sledge and piled in a heap at the foot of the
forked trees. The other sledge was brought alongside and unloaded
also, then Katherine dragged the hand sledge on to the top of the
packages, with the runners sticking upwards, so that a curious wolf
might think it was a trap of a fresh shape, and avoid it
accordingly. All this took time, however, and when she had got her
father packed into the sledge in readiness for a start it was
almost dark, while the snow was coming down thicker than ever. The
brown-and-white dog was howling dismally again, while the black one
which had a cropped ear seemed disposed to follow suit.
It was of no use trying to guide the dogs now, and, falling into
the rear, Katherine shouted to them to go forward, and left it to
their instinct to find the way home. She had to keep shouting and
singing to them the whole of the way. If from very weariness her
voice sank to silence, they dropped into a slow walk; but when it
rang out again in a cheery shout, they plunged forward at a great
pace, which was maintained only so long as she continued shouting.
But at last, after what seemed an interminable time, she heard the
noise of the water coming over Roaring Water Portage; the dogs
heard it too, and the need for shouting ceased, for they knew they
were almost at the end of the journey.