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It seems to me we are both of us feeling lonely, and that's curious, because when we had him Okanagan wasn't any special kind of a companionable man. There was a time when you would have been driving to dinner with a diamond pin stuck in you and silk stockings on about this time, Charley?" Seaforth laughed. "I scarcely think either of the things are in common masculine use," he said.
His sight was not equal to his comrade's, but he could see a smear of blue vapour curl athwart the pines, for he had banked the fire with wet fuel, so that it should smoke all day in case Tom of Okanagan had overtaken the horse and was following their trail. "Well," said Alton dryly, "there is another one."
Therefore, when Alton once more took to the water they followed him, bracing overtaxed muscle against the tireless stream until the man who pressed on a dozen yards in front went down. Then while Seaforth held his breath there was a cry from Okanagan, who clutched at an arm that rose from the flood.
Still, there was no relaxing of effort, and as the stars were paling in the rift high overhead he heard a sound that was not the monotone of the river. Another man heard it, too, for Okanagan came floundering towards him through a tumult of foam and wrested the axe from his hand. For five minutes he smote fiercely, and then raised a hoarse, half-articulate cry of triumph. "She's going."
On their side of the river a wall of rock hemmed the little party in, and even Seaforth wondered, while Okanagan growled half-aloud, when Alton, knee-deep in water, plodded steadily on. There was not more than another hour's daylight, and Seaforth remembered that the gorge extended for a league or so, while the flood had spread across it in front of them, but he knew his comrade and said nothing.
Ever spend days and days in a swinging, swaying coach, behind a four-in-hand, when "Curly" or "Nicola Ned" held the ribbons, and tooled his knowing little leaders and wheelers down those horrifying mountain-trails that wind like russet skeins of cobweb through the heights and depths of the Okanagan, the Nicola, and the Similkameen countries?
Half the men on this location are owing me quite a pile, and it's clear that I'll never get a dollar out of them unless they strike it rich, or the Grenfell Consols go up with a bang. That's how Jim from Okanagan fixed the thing.
Once he caught a muffled expletive, after which the rustling ceased awhile, but it commenced again, and Seaforth wondered the more when Okanagan crawled out of the opposite side of the thicket, and set up a second stick in line with the other. He had not the faintest notion of what his companion could be doing. "Are you finding anything down there, Tom?" he said.
Accordingly they stood silent, with the smoke drifting about them, all save one of them, who, with impotent fury in his face, backed step by step into the opening before their shanty, as Tom of Okanagan beckoned him.
He married the daughter of an Indian Chief at Okanagan, came over the Rocky Mountains, and was given by Sir George Simpson a free gift of a farm, where Ross and James Streets are now found in Winnipeg. This land is to-day worth many millions of dollars. Ross was also fond of hunting the buffalo, and we are fortunate in having his spirited story of 1840.
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