CHAPTER XIX.FOR SO IT WAS WRITTEN.
Without warning the man suddenly sprang forward and seized the child in his arms; evidently fearing lest she scream and betray his presence, he instantly clapped one hand over her mouth.
She struggled desperately, but was as an infant in his clutch; and turning, he started to leave the room, evidently expecting to be able to get out of the stockade without being seen, since the hour to close the big gates would not arrive for some little time.
Owen, bursting with indignation and anger, sprang to intercept the man, who up to this very moment had not been aware of the fact that his attempt at kidnapping had been witnessed.
When he felt the hands of the boy upon him the fellow uttered a low but venomous oath, and seeing that he could not defend himself against this enemy with both his hands employed in holding the child, who had now swooned in her terror, he dropped little Jessie to the floor and turned upon his antagonist like an enraged lynx.
Owen was only a half-grown lad, but he hadlived a strenuous life, and his muscles were developed to a point where he was almost equal to a man in strength, so that it was no weakling the fellow tackled when he thus fiercely tried to tear himself free so that he could escape ere the factor or some of his minions arrived upon the scene, attracted by the sound of the scuffle.
He struggled desperately, but Owen still clung to him like a leech, bent upon holding him until help came, for he believed this wretch should be punished for his vile attempt to kidnap the sweet child.
Finding that he was having more trouble to break away than he had expected the man resorted to other means of influencing the boy besides brute strength.
"Let go of me, you fool! I am that child's father, Angus Ferguson, d'ye hear? Is it a crime for me to want to see my own? Let go, or by heaven I'll murder you, boy. I know you—I heard the men talking about you, Owen Dugdale, and ye should be the last to try and hold me for that devil, Alexander Gregory. Let go, I say! Do ye not hear them coming? Shall I kill ye here and now?" he cried, hoarsely, as he put forth all his great power to break the other's hold.
Yes, Owen did hear them coming, men onthe run, men who were calling out to each other and to the factor to hasten; and he was more than ever determined that this wretch should not escape.
What if he were the father of little Jessie, she and her mother had long ago repudiated him, and his mission here could not but menace the child with evil.
No matter who he was, he must remain to give an account of his intentions to the czar of the region around the Saskatchewan.
So Owen continued to hang on, harkening not to the grumbled threats of the desperate man with whom he wrestled.
All the other now considered was escape, and to that end he was exerting every atom of strength he possessed; twice had he brought his clenched fist into contact with the boy's head; but at such close quarters the blow was not nearly so effective as it would have otherwise been, and at any rate, it only caused him to clench his hands the more rigidly, until it seemed that, like the grip of the bulldog, only death could make him let go.
And it was thus they were found when several men belonging to the company rushed in at the door, headed by the factor himself.
They precipitated themselves upon the struggling couple immediately and tore themapart, the factor staring hard first at Owen and then at the other, who was breathing hard from his exertions, yet glaring in rage at the grizzled Scotchman.
One look Gregory took at the figure of little Jessie on the floor and he seemed to comprehend the whole of the man's iniquity.
"Angus Ferguson here! And ye would have kidnapped the child given to me by the court's decree, ye villain! It's nae gude ye would have been intendin' to the wee bairn. I thought ye dead ere now, but its scotched and not killed ye must hae been by that forest fire twa year back. But now I'll see to it that ye do no mair harm in this section. I hae got ye whar I want ye at last, ye contemptible dog," exclaimed the factor, unconsciously in his excitement reverting back in some degree to his brogue.
"Can ye blame the fatherly instinct that urged me to come here, knowing as I did that I took my life in my hand?" growled the other, sullenly.
"Fatherly instinct be hanged. Ye never knew what it was in the past. Always hae ye been a rogue, with a double tongue in your head. Fatherly instinct, in faith, I hae a gude idea ye meant to carry off the child, if naething more than to stab me, whom ye hate likepoison?" said Gregory, and his words burned like a scorpion's sting, for the man burst out into a string of oaths.
"And I would have succeeded if it hadn't been for this meddling young fool, this son of the daughter you thrust out of your flinty heart. He held me here, curse him! I defy you, Gregory! Do your worst with me. Not another word do you get out of me now," and he shut his teeth hard as if the tortures of the Inquisition might not force him to speak.
The factor shot one look at Owen, a look that was benign, even full of hearty thanksgiving, and it was evident that by his act of that night the lad had fully bridged the gulf that had lain between them; he held the whip hand now, and it would be his grandfather who would be suing for forgiveness ere another sun had gone down.
"Fatherly love ye say, Angus Ferguson? I do not believe it. There was another motive that brought ye here the night. My scouts hae told me that ye were with the crowd that camps on our land, and so I know ye are hand and glove with those who are at war with me. It was as a spy ye came here to see what we meant to do. If it were war times ye should meet death for such an act; as it is, the law has a claim on ye, and I'll do my best to seethat it is satisfied. Ye shall be kept close in the dungeon under this house until I have a chance to send ye to the headquarters of the mounted police. Men, take him away and see that he is properly searched before ye leave him. I would not put it past the scoundrel to fire the house and burn us all in our beds if so be he could."
While some of the hardly trappers were dragging the prisoner away to confine him according to the directions they had received, Gregory bent over the form of the little girl, whom he took tenderly in his arms and kissed with a passion that told of the hold she had upon his heart.
Jessie was coming to and opened her blue eyes at this moment, shrinking closer to her grandfather and hugging her arms about his neck; then she peeped timidly around as if in search of the bad parent who had tried to get her to desert this precious home she loved so well.
Owen, seeing that she was unharmed, turned to leave, but her eyes caught sight of him and she called his name.
"Cousin Owen, please get my dolly for me; she's afraid to be alone," she said; and obediently the lad stepped forward to obey, while old Gregory smiled to see that the little queenof the post had found another loyal subject who was ready to cater abjectly to her petty whims.
"Boy," he said, as Owen flashed him a glance ere going out; "I must see you in the morning. You must not think of going hence, for here you belong to this little girl and to me! Stay with us; let us show by our love what sorrow for the past has done for me. Your act this night has bound you to us in chains that must not be lightly broken. Owen, lad, you will find that the old iron spirit can be easily bent now. Do not leave us; we need you, both Jessie and I."
Owen felt a lump in his throat, and tears in his eyes, which seemed to him such a childish sensation that he could not bear they should notice it; so abruptly wheeling he dashed from the room. But as he went he heard that sweet childish voice calling after him:
"Cousin Owen, say you will stay, please; we want you, dolly and me!"
He was shaking with the emotion that had almost overpowered him and yet his boyish heart seemed to be filled with satisfaction and delight over the way all things had come about.
That strong and desperate man had not been able to make him yield an inch, and yet here he was ready to fall down and admit himselfa prisoner, simply because a child had called him "cousin."
He felt that he could not go back to the tent while in such a disturbed state of mind, and accordingly wandered away to where he might be alone, with the quiet stars looking down upon him from above.
How many times in the past had he stood under this same starry heavens and wrestled with the problems that beset his way; but never with the tingling sensation of new-found happiness that now filled his whole being.
As he stood there in the stillness some distance away from the outer walls of the grim stockade Owen seemed to feel that the spirit of his gentle mother was with him again, and he knew she would approve of the resolve he had made since learning about the cousin, of whose existence up to now he had never known.
And while he stood there a star swept like a glorious meteor across the wide expanse of the night sky, filling his soul with awe, for it seemed to him as though he had thus been given a sign from heaven that his course met with approval there among the shining ones above.
Long he stood there and pondered, not that he had need to take himself to task, becausehis course was already mapped out, but the gates of the past had been opened by these discoveries, and he could in imagination see his mother walking about these scenes she had so often described to him, a fair young girl, with golden hair and blue eyes, so like the cherub who was doubtless still in the loving arms of her doting grandfather, the stern czar of the Hudson Bay post.
So had it all come out right, events being guided by some mysterious power that shaped them to the best end, and Owen was satisfied.
When he finally turned about, since the hour was getting very late, and started to once more enter through the gates which would soon be closed, he heaved a sigh, but not of anxiety or grief; rather did his spirit rejoice that the long battle with his better nature was over at last and that the right had won out.
How wonderful were the ways of Providence after all, and how small must the plans of mortal man seem in comparison; he had been brought back to the post really against his will, and yet see what had come of it; already had he been enabled by his presence to save the sweet child from falling into the hands of her unscrupulous father, and thus won the heart of the old factor as he could have done in no other way.
And Owen had not a single regret as he turned in at the gate, and headed for that corner of the stockade where the tent that was to serve them as a shelter had been erected earlier in the evening.
CHAPTER XX.THE TENT DWELLERS.
Somehow Cuthbert could not get to sleep.
He was constantly thinking of Owen and his fortunes, weaving castles in the air that might be fulfilled, providing the sturdy young Canuck could be convinced that it was right and proper for him to become reconciled with his grandfather, and let bygones be forgotten.
So an hour or two passed.
Cuthbert finally arose and cast his blanket aside, for he had not made use of his sleeping bag on this night.
Stepping out of the tent he looked around; the night was fair and not a sign of trouble could be detected in atmosphere or sky, for the heavenly monitors shone overhead with their usual brilliancy, and there was not much of a tang in the drowsy night wind.
Cuthbert thought it suspiciously quiet, knowing how it often grows calm before a storm.
Really he was beginning to feel worried a bit about the non-appearance of Owen, when he caught the soft sound of footsteps and the object of his solicitude appeared close by.
"Hello, keeping watch?" he asked, a littlesurprised to find one of his companions up and looking around.
"No, I just happened to wake up, and not finding you in the shack, crept out to take a peep around, and see if there was any sign of your coming. I had begun to fear our mutual friends, Stackpole and Dubois, might have waylaid you, old fellow; but now I see I was wrong. You've been taking a bit of exercise, no doubt—didn't get enough on our way here, eh? It did me up, all right, and I was glad to drop down and rest. Now you're in camp I'll resume my nap," answered Cuthbert, leaving it to the other as to whether he wanted to explain.
Owen seemed a trifle confused, but he was a straightforward fellow and without a trace of guile in his make-up.
"To confess the truth, Cuthbert, I hung around for a long time to get a glimpse of that little cousin you spoke of, and fortune was kind enough to let me see her several times. Just as you say, she looks like a fairy and somehow made me think of a picture I have of my mother when she was young. I had quite a little talk with her, too, which made it very pleasant. And while I'm about it I might as well own up that the sight of her, together with the thoughts swarming intomy mind, caused me to finally wander off into the woods, where alone I could fight the whole thing out and come to such a conclusion as the mother I loved would have had me do. It's been a hard tussle, I tell you, but I think I've won out," he said, with a quiver in his voice, and it was easy to see that the lad had been recently racked by emotions that for some time he had succeeded in keeping under restraint.
Cuthbert understood better than words could have told him what the nature of that battle under the stars must have been, and to show his sympathy for this new but dear chum he impulsively thrust out his hand and gripped that of Owen.
"I'm awful glad to know it—say no more, old fellow, for I can give a pretty good guess how it turned out. Come, tumble into your blankets and get some of your beauty sleep. There's another day coming, when I hope all of these twists and misunderstandings may be smoothed out and everything look bully. Now, crawl in and feel for your nest—it's on the side to the right, first blanket."
"Wait a bit," said Owen, "there's something else you ought to know. Perhaps you heard all that racket awhile ago. Well, I was partly the cause of that," and then he went on to tell the wondering Cuthbert what astrange thing had occurred while he was still lingering near the room that held Jessie Ferguson.
The Virginia lad was also pleased, because he knew the reconciliation could not be much longer delayed, and presently he lay down once more to sleep.
Owen was accustomed to turning in all standing, as a sailor would say—that is, with simply pulling off his boots or moccasins, whichever he chanced to be wearing, for a life in the woods does not allow of the customary preparations for bed; even the other two boys only removed their outer garments, though when the weather had been milder Cuthbert had indulged in the delight of pajamas; but the first frost had chilled his ardor in that line, and he had gradually come to copying Eli, who had the habits of the loggers of the great Michigan woods and waived all ceremony.
When ten minutes had passed Cuthbert fancied from the regular breathing that came from the spot where the Canadian lad lay that he was far along the road to the Land of Nod, and giving a satisfied grunt, he himself turned over, to let himself slip away on the tide.
Those who spend much time in the woods, in camps are restless during the night, and rarely sleep through without once or twicearousing, lifting their head to listen through habit or caution, or even crawling out to renew the fire.
True, there was no need of these things now with our boys, but nevertheless Cuthbert seemed to rest under the impression that it would not be a good thing to break a settled habit, and so along about one o'clock in the morning he poked his head out of the tent to take a perfunctory look around, just as an old and tarry sailor, from habit, jerks his head up while passing along the street of a city, not so much to survey the skyscrapers that tower above him, but from sheer habit of glancing aloft at the shivering sails of the old hooker upon which he labors twenty hours of the day.
He found that the sky was covered with clouds, and there was beginning to be quite some wind—indeed, it may have been a corner of the tent which was whipping monotonously in each rising gust that had aroused him.
Anyhow, he bent down and secured the flapping end, so that it would not awaken the others with its antics, after which he took another survey of the situation and again crawled under cover, convinced that by thedawn they might anticipate a storm of some kind.
It was a bit pleasant to know that they were now in such a decent sort of shelter and could keep quite dry, no matter how the rain came down, and if it so happened that the first real touch of winter was sprung upon them, why surely it would not be hard to keep cozy, with plenty of wood to burn and a storehouse so close at hand, from which any amount of provisions could be obtained, since he possessed the "open sesame" in the way of cash.
He thought he heard Owen move as he crawled back into the tent again, but was not quite positive, and he did not want to arouse both of the others, in case they were asleep, by asking questions.
The last he remembered after that for some time was of lying there and listening to the increasing moan of the wind among the tops of the great hemlocks that stood close by the corner of the stockade; it seemed after a time like a lullaby soothing him to sleep, for Cuthbert was too old a hand at this sort of game to allow himself to grow nervous over the coming of a little whirl, such as this no doubt would prove to be.
Then he lost consciousness and slept heavily,unmindful of the wind, the mournful hoot of a great northern owl in the dead tree nearby, or even the howls of big gray timber wolves grown bold with the nearness of winter.
CHAPTER XXIAT DEAD OF NIGHT.
Some one, violently shaking him, brought Cuthbert once more to his senses, and he aroused to the fact that it was Eli, who kept shouting in his ear:
"Wake up—wake up, there's the dickens to pay—pile out and help, old man—they need us bad—get up, I say, get up!"
That was certainly quite sufficient to thoroughly arouse any one, no matter if he had been a sluggard, and surely Cuthbert could never be called that; so, with a toss of the blankets, he scrambled to his feet; then, remembering that he was in his socks, he hastened to snatch up his boots and pull them on.
All this only took a few seconds of time, but during the brief period Cuthbert was dazed with the awful clamor that was making the welkin ring without, for it seemed as though every known sound had been accumulated to help carry out the idea that Gabriel was blowing his last trumpet, with the end of the world close at hand.
He knew men were shouting madly, and from the voices it was plain that those who thus gave tongue were both Cree Indians andCanadianvoyageurs, for the latter had gone back to their French tongue with the advent of excitement—then it struck the Virginia lad that another sound which he had heard was very much along the line of the roaring flames, and immediately the conviction forced itself upon him that in some manner the forest close by had been fired, perhaps by some enemy of the factor, such as Dubois or Stackpole, and that there was danger of the conflagration leaping the barrier and attacking the houses within the compound.
No sooner had he thrust his nose outside the tent than he gave utterance to an exclamation of mingled surprise and consternation.
It was a fire all right, but not of the species he had suspected—the roaring sound was produced by the wind whipping the flames into the angry flood, but it was hewn timber, not erect trees, that were ablaze, one of the houses, in fact, with an end a seething mass of flames.
Cuthbert knew not what to think, save that possibly some enemy had done this; but he was quick to lend his aid to save whatever the contents might be.
Accordingly he hastened in that quarter.
Already he had discovered that while he slept a storm had swept down upon the region of the Saskatchewan, and was howling throughthe forest and over the waters with demoniac glee, though as yet not a drop of rain had fallen, or a flake of snow descended, though one or the other must come in time.
But that mad breeze was a bad thing for a fire, since it would whip the flames until they tore loose from all human control, to carry ruin in their train.
Cuthbert was not alone in his rush toward the burning building, since from various directions human figures were to be seen centering in that quarter, for the employes of the fur company were certainly loyal and willing to do all that men might in order to save property or lives.
At first Cuthbert imagined that it was the storehouse, and while the burning of its contents might cause some inconvenience, there was still time to replenish the stock before winter set in fully, so that it seemed to be only a question of a money loss at the most.
But as he advanced, his eyes trying to pierce the cloud of smoke that hung all about the burning building, he began to sense the import of the wild cries that were being uttered about him, a Cree shouting to avoyageur, or it might be one of the French halfbreeds to a fellow, and as the nature of their shouts broke in upon his intelligence, he felt a new thrill of alarm.
It was not the store building, but the residence portion that was afire, and Cuthbert remembered like a flash that the little cousin of Owen had her quarters there, as well as the old factor.
He looked around hurriedly, expecting to see both close by, but to his horror failed to do so.
What could it mean—where was the sturdy head of the post, the Scotchman, who, despite his age, had seemed to the boys so like an oak—was it possible, after all, there could be something fiendish back of this conflagration, and that Alexander Gregory had been first of all stricken in his house before the match was applied?
It was an awful thought, enough to make Cuthbert's blood run cold, but before he could communicate his fears to any one he heard a roar as of a lion, and saw the factor come tumbling through smoke and flame—he rolled over upon the earth once or twice, while the Virginia lad fairly held his breath in suspense, fearing that the valiant old chap might have received his death wound while battling with the flames; then, to the delight of Cuthbert, the factor struggled to his feet and began to hobble around as if he had a broken leg, meanwhileshouting out orders in that foghorn voice that made men spring to obey.
But the little one. Where was she? The factor evidently believed Jessie must have come forth some time back, for he was not ordering the men totryand save the stricken building, but to devote their energies toward keeping the flames away from the storehouse.
Even as Cuthbert watched as in a dream he saw the factor try to walk, but immediately fall down, to be assisted to his feet again by a couple of the men.
Then came a flying figure up to his side—it was Owen, who had once vowed never to speak to this relative again so long as he lived, but whom Cuthbert knew had just recently repented of this resolution and was ready to meet his grandfather half way in the morning.
He seemed to seize upon the old man and shout something at him—just what it was Cuthbert could not hear, so furious was the whoop of the wind and the roar of the sweeping flames; but he guessed it to the dot, for he knew beyond a doubt that the Canadian lad was demanding to be told where the girl slept, for she had not been seen since the fire broke out.
Old Gregory became a frantic man on the spot, for his whole life was wrapped up inthe little fairy; he tried to rush forward himself, but went down in a heap, struggled to his knees, with Owen gripping his arm fiercely and continuing to shrill that question into his ear, until at last in despair the old factor thrust out his hand and with quivering finger pointed at the end of the burning domicil, being utterly unable to frame a single word, speech failing him.
It was quite enough for Owen.
Like an arrow shot from the bow he sped straight into the smoke and flame.
Cuthbert gave a gasp and feared he had seen the last of his new chum, but he felt a thrill of admiration because of the daring act—it was worth while to realize that his first estimation of the Canadian lad had been correct, and that when the occasion called for an exhibition of valor Owen had risen to meet it in a way that must excite admiration among all men who honored true bravery.
The picture was one that would never fade from the mind of Cuthbert—leaning up against one of the palisades Alexander Gregory seemed turned into stone, as he watched the spot where the lad had vanished, wringing his hands in the intensity of his anxiety—twice he made a spasmodic movement as though intending to hobble forward andplunge into that vortex of fierce flame himself, but each time a groan was forced from his lips when he discovered that his leg was really useless, the sprain being serious.
Cuthbert wished he knew of something that he could do to assist, but since the other had vanished there was no sign, and to simply follow after him would mean a triple tragedy, an altogether useless sacrifice.
Eli was at his elbow and together they pushed as close to the burning walls as possible, eagerly scanning the windows above for the first sign of Owen and meanwhile shouting at some halfbreeds, who were staggering under the weight of a ladder which they had found close by and guessed might be useful in some sort of an emergency.
Cuthbert held his breath.
He really had very little hope of ever seeing his new friend again, for there did not seem to be one chance in a dozen for any one to issue forth from that fiery furnace alive, since this was not the day of miracles.
It was like an age to him, though in all probability but a minute had really crept by since Owen vanished through the doorway, and yet during that interval the fire had gained more headway, despite all efforts of the gathered employes of the Hudson BayCompany to smother it with water, pumped through a hose and by means of an old hand engine kept against just such an emergency.
A hand gripped Cuthbert's arm and turning his head quickly he found that it was Eli who had thus unconsciously caught hold of him—possibly the tremendous excitement had weakened the backwoods lad, so that he clutched at support; but he was staring upward toward one of the windows, as though some movement might have caught his attention there.
His campmate naturally enough cast his eyes in the same quarter, as if sudden hope had sprung into existence; but it was to see the flames shoot out of the window in a manner that must have utterly precluded the possibility of Owen making an exit there.
Cuthbert groaned aloud, filled with dismay—it was a horrible thought thus thrust upon his mind, for there is something unusually agonizing in a death by fire; and it seemed as though the last chance had gone when the demon of the flames thrust his grinning visage out of that window.
Then Eli gave vent to a sudden shout close to his ear, so that he heard what was said even above the frightful roar of the wind and crackle of flames:
"The roof—look up yonder over the eaves—hurra,he's got her—bully for Owen, I say!" was what Eli shrieked.
Wonderful to say, the brave Canadian lad had indeed pushed out through some sort of trap or scuttle in the sloping roof, the presence of which seemed to be unknown to him; and just as Eli had declared, he was carrying a little limp figure in his stout and willing arms, none other than his cousin Jessie, the darling of the old factor's heart.
Cuthbert was stricken dumb for the moment, it all seemed so like the hand of Providence directing things so that the wandering boy might come into his own.
Gregory gave out a cry that was more like a roar of exultation, for he had been down in the depths of despair, and the sight of his lissome lassie still in the land of the living acted like a spur upon him—he stretched out his arms in the direction of those upon the roof, and again endeavored to hasten toward them, only to fall over once more helpless upon the ground.
Then Cuthbert awoke to the fact that while his chum had done a bold thing, and for the moment cheated the flames of their intended sacrifice, he was not yet safe, for all around the flashing tongues of fire gathered for alast effort at accomplishing the dread work, so that the twain above seemed hemmed in.
So Cuthbert shouted to those who carried the hose, and forced them to turn the stream of water upon one spot where the fire was weakest; rushing at those who were staggering forward bearing the ladder, he seized hold of the blessed thing and urged them to raise it against the wall at that particular point.
CHAPTER XXII.CONCLUSION.
Eli was determined to be in the game, too, and while his chum was thus engaged in creating a chance for the escape of the two upon the roof, the boy from the timber region hustled several men forward, bearing armfuls of pelts that others had just drawn from the lower floor of the house—they were especially costly skins, and the lot might be worth a duke's ransom; but at the moment, with those two precious lives in peril, to the anxious factor they were as dross, and he would only too willingly have stood the loss of the whole kit could he by this means have saved the one so dear to his old heart.
With these Eli meant to fashion some sort of buffer, that would break the fall should the couple above find themselves compelled to jump; and it was a splendid scheme to be formed on the spur of that dreadful moment, one that Cuthbert never could forget, or cease to praise.
Meanwhile, he was pretty busily employed at his own affair, placing the ladder against the building, and directing those who had heldthe hose to keep the stream of water chasing up and down that particular quarter.
Owen could not see everything that was being tried; but he knew fairly well what they intended he should do, and once assured of the presence of the ladder, he did not hesitate about using the same.
What if the fiery fingers did snatch after him as if furious at being cheated of their prey—the blessed stream of water, cold with the frosty breath of the approaching winter, showered about him, and saved them both from even a serious burn.
Cuthbert was waiting at the foot of the ladder, ready to spring up and render quick assistance if it was necessary; but Owen still remained in possession of his powers, and gripped the little girl securely in his arms.
It was as if a new life had suddenly opened up to the lonely lad—this one whom he had saved from the deadly gas and fire was his own kith and kin, daughter of his mother's sister; and the very touch of the girl's senseless form was able to send a thrill of exultation through him.
Cuthbert did not attempt to take the burden from him, for he understood just what it meant for Owen to bring the girl to her grandfather by himself; so he fell in behind,calling to the men to desist with their stream, to turn it upon the storehouse, while others gathered up the costly skins that had been thrown down with such good intent.
Alexander Gregory had struggled to his feet again—little did he heed the pains that accompanied his sprain, even though the misadventure crippled him for the time being, and rendered it difficult to stand without help; for his attention was wholly taken up with that still little form that Owen was hugging in his stalwart and affectionate arms.
Jessie had been almost smothered by the smoke; but her rescuer, knowing how perilous such a thing might be, had been careful to wrap something around her head, so that after that the atmosphere reached her less permeated by noxious gases; and when Owen gained the ground she had so far recovered as to struggle enough to free her head from this enveloping mantle, and make a movement as though desirous of being released.
But Owen, partly overcome himself by the smoke he had taken into his lungs, did not fully understand, and staggering up to the old factor he held out his burden, gasping:
"Here she is, grandfather, safe and sound!"
Cuthbert held his breath, and then suddenly gave vent to a shout of joy; for just as hehoped, even if he did not wholly expect it to occur, the factor, wild with delight and thankfulness, simply stretched his arms and gathered into his embrace both girl and lad.
Owen was a wanderer no more; but had found his own in the heart of his grandsire. It was a splendid ending to the little forest drama, and Cuthbert was the happiest fellow on the face of the earth at that moment; for he had in the short time he had known Owen grown to feel very warmly toward the manly young Canadian, and nothing that could have happened to himself might have given him one-half the pleasure that this final scene did.
Eli was a demonstrative chap, and he just squatted down on the spot and cried for very joy; while he did not know the satisfaction of a home himself, still he could rejoice over the fact that his friend had ceased to belong to the grand order of nomads.
There was still considerable to do, in order to keep the fire within bounds, for while the living quarters of the factor had gone too far to be saved, there remained other buildings, some containing stores of great value, and unless the employes of the company were smart the post would be practically wiped out.
So Cuthbert led them to the assault, andfought fire as valiantly as ever any member of an engine company in a crack tournament could have done in order that his town might win the grand prize offered.
The hose proved valuable enough; but only for the assistance of the wind possibly there might have been another story to tell when the fire finally ceased its mad antics through lack of fuel—it chanced that the breeze was blowing away from the other buildings, and while the stockade caught, it could be easily extinguished.
Of course the factor had met with quite a serious loss; but he seemed to care mighty little about this, since his precious darling had been spared; as far as the other things went they could be easily duplicated before the rigor of winter had fully settled down upon the Saskatchewan country, and he was well able to stand the penalty in dollars and cents.
Then there was the pride he took in the valiant rescue work of Owen; his eyes were continually turning toward the lad with a softened light in their depths, and it was evident that his heart had become exceedingly tender with respect to this wandering son of his daughter.
He several times called Owen to him to askif he were certain that he had not received serious burns while within the blazing house; to Cuthbert it was plain that this was in part a subterfuge to have the other near him, since his sprained ankle prevented him from moving about.
When morning came he would have a heart-to-heart talk with the lad, and never again must there be a cloud allowed to rise between them—these three were all that were left of the family, now, and they must stick together.
The factor told Cuthbert what might be done to insure them some degree of comfort during the remainder of the night, and with the assistance of the other lads he saw that it was carried out.
An hour later the excitement had all died away; the spot where the house of the factor had stood only contained a pile of ruins, still smouldering, with an occasional tongue of fire shooting upward; but ere dawn this was fully extinguished by a fall of rain.
They never fully settled how the fire had caught; it may have been an accident, but there were those who believed that the prisoner had taken a hint from Alexander Gregory's bitter words and really fired the house; at any rate he had disappeared utterly,whether finding safety in flight or meeting death in the flames none could say.
Mr. Gregory was well enough inside of a week to accompany the boys down the big Saskatchewan to the nearest town where he could obtain those supplies which were needed to replace what the fire had devoured; they had a fine time of it swinging along with a couple of great batteaus, manned by the French-Canadianvoyageurs, who sang their boat songs as they rowed, and made things merry around the fire at night time.
Cuthbert and Eli hated to part from the chum who had so quickly won his way to their hearts, and they readily promised to come back again to this charming country, when another year rolled around—Eli had his mind set upon working that copper mine, and Cuthbert had promised to see that the necessary capital was secured with which to provide all the paraphernalia such as is used to advantage—if his chum was of the same mind after he had roamed around the world with him.
Owen's little cousin had accompanied grandpa to town, since a "woman's judgment" was considered essential in choosing some of the household effects; and the last glimpse our twain had of dear old Owen, the erstwhilelad, was standing with his arm about Jessie, while the proud factor beamed upon them both, and waved his hat with just as much enthusiasm as the youngsters.
Eli after all never found a chance to develop his copper mine, but with such a chum as Cuthbert ever with him there promised to be small need of his looking to that source as a means of travel; together they have seen nearly all the countries on the map of the world, and at present are doing South America.
Stackpole and Dubois had sense enough to cruise in other timber than that surrounding the trading post.
So Cuthbert after all had found much pleasure in the great Saskatchewan region, even though he failed to map out a new route to Alaska, or learn any of the wonderful secrets hidden in the wide stretches of barrens between the country of the Crees and the Chippewas, and the lonely Hudson Bay.
Many times would his memory go back to the scenes that embraced Owen, the stern old factor, and sweet little Jessie; and again he would live over those days and nights when they were "Canoemates in Canada."
THE END