The days that followed were full of interest to Donald. The train roared West, running on time like a clock. They tore through towns and farming settlements and plunged into forests and hills in the northern part of Ontario. The hills dwindled when they reached Manitoba, and in Alberta Donald felt as if he were sailing over a vast sea of land.
“We’ll see them old Rocky Mount’ns pretty soon,” said Gillis happily. “You’ll like B.C., Donald. And after you bin there awhile all hell won’t pry you loose. I know, ’cause I broke away from her twice, but I always drift back. I ain’t got the eddication to tell you the funny feelin’ I have when I’m comin’ back to her. When I see them big mount’ns loomin’ up I feel sort of scrumptious inside, like I wanted to smile at everybody, and I have a hard time to keep from lettin’ out a yell.”
“Your power of expression needs no apology,” laughed Donald.
“Forgot to tell you that I ain’t goin’ right through to the Coast. The Company I work for has a mill at Revelstoke that needs fixin’ up. The job’ll probably last ’till spring. You better stay off with me, ’cause you’ll find things on the Coast pretty quiet this winter.”
Gillis had played the part of host from the start, and Donald knew that if he accepted the invitation to stop off at the interior town, Gillis would insist on treating him as his guest. He felt that his new friend could not afford to practise this lavish generosity.
Donald shook his head regretfully. “I think I’ll go through to Vancouver.”
Gillis arose with visible reluctance as the train drew into Revelstoke. “Well, I got to leave you, pardner.”
Donald had developed a sincere friendship for the man. There was a great deal of tenderness beneath the rough exterior of this Western logger.
“I’m pretty lucky in finding a friend like you,” Donald said feelingly as they shook hands.
“That’s all right, my boy,” Gillis replied awkwardly. “I like you, and I’ll sure look you up when I hit the Coast. So-long.”