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Updated: May 3, 2025
Jim saw the change, and, knowing what it signified, took Joe's arm as he gently urged him away. The teamster's shrill voice could be heard until they entered the fur-trader's cabin. An old man with long, white hair flowing from beneath his wide-brimmed hat, sat near the door holding one of Mrs. Wentz's children on his knee.
Their fort was indeed only three days' journey from the little settlement of Partridge Bay, but as the space which lay between was a particularly rugged part of the wilderness, with only a portion of road unworthy of the name here and there, and the greater part of the way only passable on foot or by means of dog-sledges, none but an occasional red man or a trapper went to and fro; and as the nature of the fur-trader's business called for very little intercourse with the settlements their furs being sent by water to Quebec in summer it followed that the inhabitants of the Cliff Fort rarely visited Partridge Bay.
Evidently the fur-trader's wife and her female neighbors had settled in their minds the relation in which the girl stood to Joe. This latter reflection heightened Nell's resentment toward her lover. She stood with her face turned away from Mrs. Wentz; the little frown deepened, and she nervously tapped her foot on the floor. "Where is my sister?" she presently asked.
His native generosity might have prompted him perhaps to find some excuse for the fur-trader's apparent want of candour, or to believe that there might be some explanation of it, but, as it was, he flung into the other scale not only the supposed injury inflicted by Redding, but all his weighty disappointments at the loss of his old home, and of course generosity kicked the beam!
They never imagined that the traitor had been instigated by a desire to be revenged upon them, and that all that had happened to them during the day was the result of the incidents that had transpired during their ride to the old fur-trader's ranch. "I really believe that Benedict Arnold belongs to this band of outlaws," said Frank.
The store. At whatever establishment in the fur-trader's dominions you may chance to alight you will find a particular building which is surrounded by a halo of interest; towards which there seems to be a general leaning on the part of everybody, especially of the Indians; and with which are connected, in the minds of all, the most stirring reminiscences and pleasing associations.
In the midst of this exciting scene there was one heart there which beat with a nervous vehemence that well-nigh burst it. This was the heart of Dick Varley's horse, Charlie. Well-known to him was that distant rumbling sound that floated on the night air into the fur-trader's camp where he was picketted close to Cameron's tent.
His companions clung to the rock till another canoe came shooting down-stream, when lines were hoisted to the castaways, and they were hauled ashore. Where the Clearwater comes into the Thompson they found the fur-trader's horse-trail and tramped the remaining hundred miles overland south to Kamloops.
Again the irascible fur-trader's temper gave way as he said "Well, what I said I have said, and what I said I'll stick to." "Just so," returned Ian, with a peculiar smile, "and, knowing this, I have come here to claim the knoll for my father and Elsie for myself." This was such a glaring absurdity in the old gentleman's eyes that he uttered a short contemptuous laugh.
Now, the old fur-trader's nerves had received a tremendous shock, and the practical jest which the pride of his heart had perpetrated had roused the irascibility of his nature, so that an explosion became unavoidable.
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