Part 9 (1/2)
”No, I am an Englishman. I was educated at Eton and Oxford. After I left college, I took a fancy to see the world.”
”You have come a long way to see it.”
”Yes. And yet I have been well repaid. I have spent five or six thousand pounds since I came here, but that is nothing when you think of all the experience I have gained. If I had lived in England I should have spent much more and not have known half the things I do now. We have all to pay for our knowledge, and of course I am no exception to the rule. My rich friends at home would be shocked to see me in this shack or dressed in this fas.h.i.+on, but I am happy, and that is the chief thing in life. It matters little where you are or what you are doing if you are happy. I hope some day to relate my experiences and publish them, and that will be full compensation for all the hards.h.i.+ps of this kind of life.”
”I hope so,” replied Donald, slowly.
”You appear to doubt it, my friend, but I have learned much, and as it has cost me a great deal, I think, and not without sufficient reason, that I ought to be able to recount my experiences in an entertaining manner. If I succeed, they are sure to bring me some compensation for the trouble.”
”I do not doubt that,” said Donald; ”what I thought was that the labor will be too great and the hards.h.i.+ps too severe for the reward to be adequate. The isolation, the privations, the absence of all the luxuries of life, the loss of friends and the monotony of prairie life--is not this too much to give for all the wealth and fame the world is able to bestow in one short life?”
”That is true to you, perhaps, but we are not all made alike, and nothing could please me more than to spend my life for the benefit of others, in relating to my fellowmen the adventures of the last few years.”
To write a book was evidently Mr. Daniels' highest ambition, as it has been the worthy desire of many n.o.bler men.
”Your life has been spent chiefly among the Indians, I suppose,” said Donald.
”Indians and half-breeds,” replied Daniels.
”Which of the two types of men do you find the better?” asked Donald.
”Are not the former finer men than the latter?”
”Just the opposite. I have spent most of my time while in the country among the half-breeds, and have gleaned so much of their history and entered so fully into their spirit that I look upon the race as one of the n.o.blest on the face of the earth.”
”Your experience differs from mine, then.”
”Perhaps so, but you will pardon me if I say that possibly mine has been larger and more varied than yours, and that being the case, I am better able to speak authoritatively on the question. I do not often mention the facts of my own life in this relation, but it is sometimes necessary in order to throw light upon the matter, and I will tell you as briefly as possible the reasons for my belief in the n.o.bility of character in the race.”
”Thank you; it will be a pleasure to me to listen to what you say,”
said Donald, smiling.
”About fourteen years ago,” began Daniels, ”my father called me into his study and told me he had decided to send me out to America. He would give me a few thousand pounds to enable me to start life there well and make an independent living. I was very willing to fall in with his views, as nothing pleased me better than the thought of hunting in the far West. A few days later he placed a cheque for two thousand pounds in my hand and bade me make all necessary arrangements for my journey. There was nothing much to be seen in Montreal, so I cashed my cheque when I arrived there and pushed on to the West, which I reached in the course of some weeks in the company of several adventurers like myself. The first years were spent in the village of Latona, where I made the acquaintance of the half-breeds, and learned to respect them. I found many honest and plucky men among them. There was Jack Sutherland, a Scotch half-breed, true as steel; no prouder man than he ever stood in a mansion. Let me tell you of him; his story will serve as well as another to ill.u.s.trate what I want to prove.”
”Go on,” said Donald, ”I'm all ears.”
”Jack was one of the employees of the Hudson's Bay Company, who had been sent from one of the northern posts to the Company's post at Latona. He was a quiet fellow, reserved and proud, conscious of his strength and superior skill with a rifle, but no boaster. He was as much at home in a canoe on the lake or river as on a horse on the prairie. He dined at the long table in the Fort, but lived in a small house by himself that was situated just within the walls of the Fort.
There he had a small but well-chosen stock of books that had belonged to his father, an officer of the Company. These books were of the right sort, and what was better, were often read.
”Jack was a very agreeable companion, full of information, and when among his particular friends was fond of a joke. He had all the canny disposition of the Scotch race, with the instincts of the Indian. He was daring and hardy, yet seldom did anything of an extraordinary nature, which may have arisen from his intense hatred of display. I knew the man well and learned to love him.
”Late one afternoon we were apprised by some of the Cree Indians that there were Blackfoot Indians in the vicinity, and it would be well for us to be on our guard. We took all necessary precautions, but no Indian appeared.
”Three or four days went by and we felt sure the Cree who brought the tidings of the proximity of the Blackfeet must have been mistaken. We did not hear of any misdeeds, so we settled down again to our old ways of living.
”The villagers were retiring to rest when a man rode down the street, and called to a few stragglers who were still about that one of the children of the Factor at the Fort was missing.
”The children had been playing together inside the walls of the Fort, and unconscious of any danger had gone outside to pluck some of the flowers growing there in rich profusion. One of them, a girl of about five years of age, lingered behind the others, and when they turned to call her she had disappeared. They searched for her, calling her repeatedly, but all their efforts were fruitless. Then they returned to inform their parents. All the employees were at once astir and searching in every direction, but without success.
”The mother was distracted and the father wild with grief and apprehension.
”The news spread quickly and the villagers joined in the search. They rode along the river bank and scoured the prairie in the darkness, but could find no trace of the missing child. For several days they continued to search the country hoping to find her, but without success.