The spectacle I presented certainly must have been an unusual one—a man all skin and bones, standing in drawers and stocking feet, with the remnants of a pair of trousers about his hips, there in the midst of the snow-covered forest. They were heavily clad and had their caps pulled far down over their ears to protect them from the biting wind, while I did not even have my hat on.
It was some time before I could realise that living men were before me. As if in a half-dream, I stood stupidly gazing at them. But with the return of sensibility I recollected that George had gone to find Donald Blake, and gradually it dawned upon me that he was there. I spoke his name "Donald Blake." At that Donald stepped forward and grasped my hand warmly and firmly like an old friend.
"Did George get out and send you?" I asked.
"Yes, sir; it was he that sent us, sir. He's safe at my house."
"Have you found Hubbard?"
"Not yet, sir. We smelled smoke a mile and a half above, where our camp was last night, an' came down to find you, sir."
I remember telling Donald that he had better leave me something to eat, and go on to Hubbard as fast as he could. He replied that Duncan and Bert, the two young fellows, would stay with me, while he and Allen would continue on up the valley. During this talk, the kind-hearted trappers had not been idle. While two of them cut wood for a rousing fire and put the kettle on for tea, the others made a cosey couch close to the blaze and sat me on it. They gave me a very small piece of bread and butter.
"You'd better eat just a small bit at first, sir," said Allen. "You're fair starved, and much grub at th' beginnin' might be th' worse for you."
Before I had my tea, Donald and Allen were ready to start. Allen hesitated for a moment; then asked:
"If the other man be dead, sir?"