Ti-Ti-Pu: A Boy of Red River

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!'

CHAPTER V

The Search for Hector

Again and again Hector cried out for help and deliverance from his prison, but, even had there been any one near, they could hardly have heard him through the thick walls and solid door of the fur-house.

Pressing his ear against the join of the door, he heard the fierce barking of the collies growing fainter and fainter, until presently he heard it no more. Evidently they had been dragged off by the half-breed, and confined somewhere.

The truth of the matter was that, to the dogs, Hector owed the alarming situation in which he found himself. While he hung about the gate of the fort, the half-breed had noticed the splendid creatures, and, at once coveting them, set about getting them into his possession. Extraordinary as his conduct may seem, the subsequent experiences of the settlers showed only too clearly that he really was not running any great risk of trouble to himself.

The faithful collies, knowing that their young master was shut up in the fur-house, stayed close at the door, and this enabled the rascally half-breed, with the aid of another whom he called upon, to fasten thongs around their necks, and to drag them off, in spite of their frantic opposition.

Hector shouted and kicked at the door, until, at last, exhausted and despairing, he threw himself down among the furs, and burst into futile tears.

'What are they going to do to me?' he sobbed. 'Oh, I wish I'd never gone near the fort! How can father find out where I am?'

How, indeed, was the question. Mr. Macrae had many things to engross his attention, and Mrs. Macrae was so used to Hector's roaming about on his own account, that she would not be apt to miss him until sundown. As it fell out, it was from a most unlooked-for source that the clue came. Having made the best arrangements they could for shelter, and these were very scant at best, the settlers gathered together for their evening meal. Then did the mother-heart of Mrs. Macrae begin to feel concerned for her son. 'Where is Hector?' she asked her husband. 'I have na seen him these many hours. Was he no with you?'

'He was no with me at all,' answered Mr. Macrae, turning his keen glance in every direction. 'He went aff with the twa dogs a gude while ago, and I didna see just which way he went.'

'God grant he's na got into any harm!' sighed Mrs. Macrae. ''Tis a strange place this, and there's na tellin' what may happen to the laddie.'

'Oh, he's a' richt,' responded her husband, cheerfully. 'He'll be wanting his bannocks, and that'll bring him back soon.'

But when night fell, and still no sign of Hector, the Macraes grew very anxious. Andrew set out to make enquiries, and went through the party of settlers, asking if any of them had seen the boy since mid-day. Several of them had noticed him strolling about, accompanied by the dogs, but no one could say definitely in what direction he had gone.

When the mystery was at its height, and the whole party was aroused to concern for the missing boy, suddenly Dour appeared, and rushed up to Mr. Macrae, barking joyfully. The remains of a raw-hide thong, which he had bitten through close to his body, hung about his neck, and, with all the means of expression at the command of the most sagacious of his kind, he strove to tell his story.

'Gude dog! Gude dog!' murmured Mr. Macrae, patting the clever creature fondly. 'There's been ill wark, nae doot. Come with me, friends, an' we'll sift it to the verra bottom.'

Slipping pistols into their pockets, for there was no telling what might happen, half-a-dozen of the men signified their readiness to accompany Mr. Macrae in the search for his son. They were stalwart, stern-looking men, with shaggy faces, and piercing, fearless eyes – not the men to be trifled with by any one, and now deeply intent upon their purpose, for their hearts beat in sympathy for the anxious father and mother.

'Lead on, Dour, gude dog,' said Andrew; 'ye dootless ken the way. We'll keep close ahind ye.'

The intelligent animal, fully grasping his master's meaning, set off at once straight for the fort, the men following at a rapid jog-trot, in order not to be left behind. When they arrived at the fort they found the gate closed, but, as Dour was insistent about entering, Mr. Macrae did not hesitate to rap loud and long upon the stout timber with the butt of his pistol.

For some time there was no response, for although those inside had not yet gone to bed, they were all so engrossed in drinking, smoking, talking, or gambling that they did not hear him. At last a rough voice was heard demanding in a surly tone: 'What do you want? Who are you?'

'I want to see the Governor of the Fort,' replied Mr. Macrae, in a tone that had no uncertain sound about it.

'He no see you now. He busy,' was the growling reply, as the speaker turned to go away.

'But I maun see him, and that richt awa,' retorted Mr. Macrae, and at his signal the whole party fell to smiting the gate with their heavy pistol butts. This thundering tattoo evidently impressed the man inside, for he came back to the gate, and, in a slow, sulky fashion, proceeded to unfasten the stout bars that held it. Opening it a couple of inches, he peered suspiciously at the importunate callers, but the latter gave him no time to scrutinize them; for, led by Mr. Macrae, they threw themselves upon the heavy gate, forced it wide open, and charged through ere the bewildered Metis realized their purpose.

There was no difficulty in distinguishing the factor's residence, for it fairly blazed with light, and thither the group of stern, stalwart men directed their steps, Dour, satisfied that they knew what they were about, keeping close at his master's heels.

The door of the house stood wide open, but Mr. Macrae did not attempt to enter without first rapping in a proper manner. His summons brought out a young lad, evidently from Scotland, who showed a very different spirit from the surly half-breed at the gate. 'Ye wad hae a word wi' the Governor, eh?' he asked, with a pleasant smile. 'Just bide ye there, an' I'll gie him yer message.'

He disappeared into the room at the right, and Mr. Macrae prepared himself to address the important official he had asked for. But he was not to have that privilege in a hurry. The minutes went by without the Governor appearing, or the young Scotsman returning, and, in rising wrath, Andrew Macrae was just about to knock on the inside door, when suddenly it opened, and there stood before him a thick-set, shaggy-haired personage, whose deeply flushed features showed that he had been dining not wisely but too well. 'What is it?' he demanded brusquely. 'Why do you bother me now? Why can't you wait until the morning?'

In a firm, yet respectful, tone, Hector's father stated the reason of his coming. 'Tut! Tut!' growled the man. 'I can't attend to that to-night. Come back to-morrow,' and he was about to close the door, when Mr. Macrae, with a quick movement, thrust his foot against it, and at the same moment he laid his hand firmly upon the factor's arm.

'It's ma ain bairn I'm seeking, and I shall na leave here until I find him.' As he spoke, his companions pressed close behind him, shoulder to shoulder.

The factor's bloodshot eyes went from one stern, intent face to another. Manifestly, these were not men to be trifled with. Obscured by strong drink as his brain was, enough sense remained to understand that. With an oath he flung the door open, and said sneeringly: 'Do ye expect to find him in here?'

Through the cloud of tobacco smoke that filled the room, Mr. Macrae saw several men sitting at the table with glasses before them.

'Surely not;' he replied, an accent of fine scorn in his deep voice. 'But with your permission, I'll search the fort.'

'Do so, and – ' here followed rough words, but Andrew, having gained his point, took no notice of the man's gross rudeness.

CHAPTER VI

Ordered Off

'Come awa', men,' he said to his companions. 'We'll na give o'er till we've searched the place throughout. Lead awa', Dour, gude dog.'

The clever collie needed no second bidding. He had been very impatiently awaiting the conclusion of the colloquy at the factor's, and now bounded across the open space between the different buildings, making straight for the fur-house.