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Updated: May 13, 2025
But here: I tell you what we are after. This gentleman," pointing to McKay, "wants news from the other side." "Why you come to me? I nothing to do with other side." "You can help him, you know that, and you must; or we will bundle you out of this and send you back to Constantinople." The provost-marshal's manner was not to be mistaken. "What can I do, sare?"
Peter wagged his tail, for the savagery of his existence was qualified by that mellowing sense of humor which had always been a part of his master. He yipped softly, in a companionable sort of way. And then there smote upon his ears a sound which hardened every muscle in his body. "Throw up your hands, McKay!" He turned his head. Close to him stood a man. In an instant he had recognized him.
I'll just call you Seventy-Six, and this young lady Seventy-Seven.... And I'm Two Hundred and Thirty." "What else?" "My name?" "Certainly." "It isn't expected " "It is in this case," snapped McKay, wondering at himself for such ultra precaution. "Oh, if you insist then, I'm Gray.... Alec Gray of the States United Army Intelligence Serv" "All right.... Gad!... It's all right, Gray!"
They went by the kitchen garden and servants' hall, and so through to the staircase hall, where McKay struck a match and Sixty-seven instantly blew it out. "Better not," he said. "There are vermin about." McKay stood silent, probably surprised. Then he called softly in the darkness: "Seventy-seven!" "Je suis la!" came her voice from the stairs. "It's all right," he said, "it's one of our men.
"We are in for it now, my boy," whispered Sergeant Hyde, who was one of the colour-party, and stood in the centre of the column, near McKay. "What is it?" asked the young sergeant-major eagerly. "A fight?" "More than that a general action. In another hour or two we shall be engaged hotly along the whole line. Some of us will lose the number of our mess before the day is done."
All this happened in less time than it takes to describe. It was one of those moments of dire emergency, of great opportunity suddenly arising, gone as swiftly beyond recall, unless snatched up and dealt with by a prompt, audacious spirit. Young McKay saw it with the unerring instinct of a true soldier. He acted instantaneously, and with bold decision.
During her only voyage to San Francisco she was partly dismasted, but Lauchlan McKay rigged her anew at sea in fourteen days and still made port in one hundred and three days, a record for the season of the year. It was while running home from Honolulu in 1853 that the Sovereign of the Seas realized the hopes of her builder.
In the shack, this last day of May afternoon, stood leaning over a rough table the man of the laugh Roger McKay, known as Jolly Roger, outlaw extraordinary, and sought by the men of every Royal Northwest Mounted Police patrol north of the Height of Land.
This was Roderick MacFarlane, who founded Fort Anderson, discovered the MacFarlane Rabbit, etc.; here was John Schott, who guided Caspar Whitney; that was Hanbury's head man; here was Murdo McKay, who travelled with Warburton Pike in the Barrens and starved with him on Peace River; and so with many more. Very few of these men had any idea of the interest attaching to their observations.
He broke through the dune-crust at the end of his tunnel and crawled out into the thick, gray dawn of a barren-land day. The sky was heavy overhead, and the wind had died out. It was the beginning of the brief lull which came in the second day of the Great Storm. McKay laughed softly as he sensed the odds against them. "We'll be having the storm at our heels again before long, Pied-Bot," he said.
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