Before Mr. Macrae had reached Hector, he, too, felt the paralysing effect of the glacial water. But he was a man of enormous strength, and, wallowing through it like a whale, grasped the boy firmly with his left hand, while he struck out for the canoe, which rocked upon the water in supreme indifference to their struggles for life.

‘Keep up, laddie, keep up,’ he panted. ‘I’ll get ye safe ashore.’ Reaching the canoe, he drew down the side until Hector could seize it with his stiffening hands. ’Noo, then, laddie, ye’ll just haud on there, and I’ll push the thing to the land.’

Hector held on with the strength that his terror gave him, and Mr. Macrae, grasping the canoe at the other side, pushed it through the water with all his might.

In this fashion they made the shore, where Cross-Eye stood shivering and glowering at them. Mr. Macrae’s first impulse was to warm his skin pretty thoroughly for his cowardly desertion of the boy. But before his hand fell, he checked himself, saying: ’Ye feckless loon! ye ken nae better, nae doubt. Yer only thought was for yer ainsel’. Well, we’ll say nae mair. Come, let’s make a fire and dry our things.’

The half-breed, who had evidently expected some rough usage, looked immensely relieved at the quick turn of affairs, and set himself to the building of a big blaze, with such skill and energy, that the chilled duck-hunters were presently basking in its welcome warmth.

As soon as their clothes were dried, they recovered the ducks, which were still floating on the water, and then hid themselves to await another flock. Their patience was rewarded by the securing of some half-dozen more. Then, feeling well content with the day’s bag, they paddled back to Oxford House.

A few days later, the boats resumed their journey, crossing Holey Lake, ascending a little river to Hell Gate a very difficult place to pass and so on by way of Echenamis, and Sea River, and across the Play Green Lakes, to Norway House at the north end of Lake Winnipeg.

Here all difficulties with rocks and rapids ended the exhausting labours of the portage were over. With broad sails hoisted to the wind, the big boats ploughed through the turbid waters of the shallow lake, traversing it from north to south, and without any mishap, reached the end of their voyage. The colonists, heartily weary of being cooped up in the boats so long, were only too glad to be put out upon the solid land.

They were now actually in the Red River country, for which they had ventured so much, and it was with eager, anxious eyes that they looked about them.

The Red River itself constituted the central feature of the landscape. Having its source in the elevated land some hundreds of miles away, it flowed in a muddy, sluggish fashion into Lake Winnipeg. On its west side the country was one boundless level plain of rich, deep loam, whose fertility would presently amaze the newcomers, accustomed to the grudging, niggardly soil of their native land. On the east the scene was more varied with hill and dale, and skirted at no great distance by what were called the pine hills, covered with timber, and running parallel to the river all the way.

‘The gude God be thankit!’ ejaculated Andrew Macrae, as his keen gray eyes surveyed the fair prospect, all glowing beneath the splendour of an unclouded sky, and, removing his bonnet, he offered a brief yet fervent thanksgiving. ‘Eh! but it’s a fine land!’ he continued. ’Why, ye scarce can see a stane on it, and where there are sae mony flowers, there’ll be nae lack o’ fat crops in the comin’ year.’

Thus speaking, Andrew gave voice to the first impression of all the men, while the women, with glad eyes, noted the soft beauty of the country, and said to one another that it was a bonnie place, and they were glad they had come to it.

As for the children, they could hardly contain themselves. The thick, soft grass in which they could roll and tumble without let or hindrance was a pure delight to them. Oh, what a romp they and the dogs did have! and how heartily Hector and Ailie entered into the merriment!

There were somewhat primitive carts to carry the heavy baggage, but the colonists all had to walk; and it was, consequently, at no hurried rate of progress, that they moved southward to their final destination.

It was in the beginning of October that the weary, travel-worn colonists, with their families and possessions, reached the tract of land beside the Red River which their lordly patron had selected for their settlement.

Their very first proceeding was to gather together and offer thanks to God, for His providential care of them through all the perils of the long journey. Never before had the clear sweet air of the prairie been stirred by the strains of sacred song, and, as the solemn beautiful music of the Psalms rose heavenward, there hurried to the wondrous novelty a motley crowd of fur hunters, half-breeds, and Indians, who remained to listen in gaping curiosity, if not in reverent appreciation, to Andrew Macrae’s dignified reading from ‘the Book,’ and to the lengthy prayers that followed from other men of the party.

The instant the praise service was concluded, Hector, accompanied by Dour and Dandy, started out to inspect their new home. The boy was in high spirits, which his four-footed friends shared. At least, Dandy did, for he frisked and barked with great vim, thereby attracting the attention of the suspicious, snarling curs that belonged to the residents, who had never seen so handsome a member of their race before. Dour bore himself with more dignity, yet it was evident that he understood that they had arrived at the end of their tiresome travelling, and that he rejoiced thereat.

Naturally Hector turned his steps towards the fort, which was the most conspicuous feature of the scene. This did not belong to the Hudson’s Bay Company, but to their bitter rivals, the North-West Fur Company, and, had the boy only known, was the stronghold of those who were to give the settlers many miserable days.

It was not a very imposing affair, simply a stout stockade in the form of a square, having one gate protected by short towers, and enclosing a cluster of buildings, only one storey in height, built in the same rough fashion.

Hector, drawing near the gate, which stood wide open, looked curiously in. The whole thing was entirely novel to him, and, boy-like, he greatly longed to understand it. Dour and Dandy, feeling ill at ease now, kept very close to him. They did not altogether like the look of things, and would have preferred retracing their steps, but of course they had not the slightest notion of deserting their young master.

As Hector stood hesitating, a young man, coming from the interior, beckoned to him in a friendly fashion, saying: ’You want come in. All right, you come.’ He was clearly a half-breed, and had a dark, evil face that was far from prepossessing.

Hector instinctively disliked him, but could not very well refuse his invitation, even though the shrewd collies sniffed so suspiciously at his legs that the fellow shrank away lest they should bite him. ’Nice place, eh?’ he asked, with a sly ingratiating smile. ’Plenty good furs in there,’ and he pointed, with a very dirty finger, to the largest of the buildings. ‘You stranger, yes? Come I show you the store.’

Hector had a premonition of trouble, but was not sufficiently strong-minded to beat a retreat, as he should have done. The half-breed certainly seemed courteous, even if the expression of his face were sinister.

Following his guide, the lad entered the trade-house, which contained the goods used in bartering with the Indians for their furs, and was astonished at the quantity and variety of the stock displayed. Here were guns, pistols, knives, hatchets, blankets, shirts, caps, mitts, tobacco, tea, sugar, smoked and salted meats, handkerchiefs, sashes, snowshoes, moccasins, coats and trousers, and so on, piled upon the floor according to a rude, but no doubt effective system.

‘Plenty goods here, eh?’ said the half breed, with a crafty leer, as if his object were to arouse the boy’s envy. ’Company very rich very strong have many forts all about’ and with a sweep of his arms he indicated a wide stretch of territory. Hector certainly was much impressed by what he saw, and felt free to say so, whereat his guide seemed much gratified.

‘Come now see furs oh! fine furs!’ he cried, and, taking hold of Hector’s arm, led him off to another building, even more solidly built than the trade-house. A single door was both the means of admittance and of lighting the place. Inside were ranged bales of furs, the pelts of marten, mink, otter, bear, fox, wolf, and beaver, which had been trapped by Indians and half-breeds in far-away places, and brought in to exchange for the goods they coveted.

Some of the skins were loose, and the half-breed drew Hector’s attention to a particularly fine blue fox, which he explained was worth ‘heap money.’ Hector was examining this, passing his hand over the soft, rich fur, when suddenly he was tripped and thrown upon the floor by his scoundrelly guide, who, before the boy could regain his feet, dashed out of the door and slammed it shut, setting the great bar across it.

In perfect darkness and bewilderment, Hector picked himself up. Can you blame the poor lad if his first feeling was something very like panic-stricken terror? He had been taken so completely by surprise, and felt so utterly helpless. Through the thick door, he could hear the angry barking of Dour and Dandy, who were evidently defending themselves against assailants of some kind, and he shouted with all his might: ‘Help! Help! Let me out! Let me out!’