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How am I no logical?" "After all," replied Tom, "it's noan logical to give up religion because of Colonel Ingersoll's Lectures. The religion my Alice had went deeper nor that. Ay, but there, I am a fool to be talking about it. Good night, McPhail, I will go back now." And Tom went back towards the town alone. The following Saturday night Tom was again drunk and disorderly.
But I could go and bury myself in the wilderness somewhere where no one would ever find me." "Laddie," said McPhail, "I misdoubt that you're going to settle down in any wilderness. You haven't the faculty of adaptability of which I have spoken to-night at some length.
It was not that he felt afraid, but there was a kind of dread of the unknown. What would it be like to die? "I hear we're off soon," said Alec McPhail to him one day. "There's no telling," said Tom laconically. "Ay, but we shall," replied Alec, "and I shall be glad, I'm getting sick of this life in the camps." "I doan't wonder at it," said Tom. "What micht ye mean by that?" asked the Scotchman.
Bradley, who has agreed to accompany us on our trip, strongly advises Malcolm to shift his quarters from Oregon, and settle here, saying that he is sure my friend will do so when he has once seen the farms in the Sacramento valley, whither we are to start early next week. McPhail left us to-day, to make a trip to Sonoma.
"I would not take too seriously words spoken in the heat of midnight revelry, even though the revel was conducted on the genteelest principles. Have you thought of the matter in the cool and sober hours of the morning?" "Yes." "It's an unco' hard life, laddie." "The one I'm leading is a harder," said Doggie. "I've made up my mind." "Then I've one piece of advice to give you," said McPhail.
He said we must give up Red Dog or they'd burn the agency over our heads and massacre every man, and McPhail was for letting him go then, but Mr. Boynton and he had words over it, and they kept him.
After breakfast, Bradley, Lacosse, and McPhail, accompanied by the old trapper, set off on a hunting expedition, for our stock of provisions was now getting very low, leaving José and our legal friend at the camp.
The night was rather dark, but Lacosse said the trail could easily be distinguished. With regard to the shot we had heard fired, and the moans which followed it, Bradley said that shortly after missing McPhail, they found some wolves were on their track, in ail likelihood scenting the deer which they were carrying slung across their horses.
In a couple of days Malcolm was sufficiently recovered no longer to require my assistance. At his instigation, I took my departure towards Sutter's Fort, where McPhail or Lacosse might perhaps still be waiting for me. I felt that he was in good hands, and that his kind Californian nurse and her husband would do all that they could for him.
The draft was to entrain before daybreak on the morrow. It was a foolish, singing, shouting khaki throng. McPhail, who had borrowed ten pounds from Doggie, in order to see him through the hardships of the Front, established himself close by the bar and was drinking whisky.
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