Toward evening of the fourth day after leaving the railway, the two
stepped into the broad clearing that surrounded the Gods Lake post.
"Oh, real Indians!" cried Jean, as she caught sight of the dozen or
more tepees that were pitched between the lake and the low log trading
post.
"Aye, real Injuns, lass--an' good it is to see them again. It will be
the remnant of the spring tradin'. 'Tis about over now, but always
there's some of the Injuns will hang around the post all summer."
"They're cooking over open fires, and look, there comes one from the
lake with some fish! Oh, don't you just love it?"
They were crossing the clearing, and old John glanced at his daughter
with approval. "Aye, I love it. An' proud I am that you love it, too.
Ye've taken to the North like a duck takes to water. Ye've trailed
like a real sourdough, an' never a word of the hard work an' the
discomfort. 'Tis born in ye, lass--the love of the bush--an' I'm glad.
I've come to know ye better the last four days than I have in
twenty-one years of school, an' dancing an' all the flibberty-jibbitin'
nonsense ye carry on."
They had reached the door of the trading room, and the man interrupted
her laughing reply. "Wait ye here a minute while I see if Dugald is
inside."
Oskar Hedin paused in the act of putting the finishing touches on the
edge of his belt ax, and as John McNabb entered the room, he rose
hastily to meet him.
"Where's Murchison?" asked the newcomer, and Hedin noted that no
slightest hint of recognition flickered in his employer's eyes.
Repressing the desire to laugh, he answered in the slow, dull-witted
manner of Sven Larsen. "He is in there," pointing to the door of the
factor's room.
"Tell him to come out here," commanded McNabb brusquely.
"Do you want to see him?"
"What in the devil d'ye think I'm waitin' here for? Hurry, now, an'
don't be standin' there gawpin'."
Hedin grinned broadly as he entered Murchison's door, and a moment
later McNabb's hands were gripped by the two hands of the factor.
"It's glad I am to see ye, John. An' how does it feel to get home once
more?"
"Ye'll be knowin' yourself how it feels to a man that's been thirty
years out of the bush. But where's Hedin?"
"He'll be here directly," answered Murchison. "John, I want ye to meet
my clerk, Sven Larsen. He's the best clerk I ever had."
McNabb glanced into the bearded face that blinked stupidly at him. "Ye
haven't be'n over favored with clerks, I'd say, Dugald. But how are ye
fixed for quarters?"