While Blondin was speaking, the whole scene of the previous day and of the terrible night rushed in upon my brain like a flood, and I thanked God fervently for my deliverance, while I complied with the man’s suggestion and sipped some more tea.
It revived me much, but on attempting to rise I found myself so weak that I fell back helplessly with a deep sigh.
“Ye’ve no need to trouble yoursel’, Muster Maxby,” said Dougall, “we’ve brought the new dowg-sleigh for ’ee.”
Looking in the direction in which he pointed, I observed not far-off the splendid new dog-sleigh which we had spent much time in making and painting that winter. Our fine team of four semi-wolf dogs, gay with embroidered harness as they lay curled up on the snow, were attached to it.
“I suspect I should have died but for your thoughtful care, Dougall,” I said, gratefully, as the good fellow assisted to place me in the vehicle and wrap the buffalo robes around me.
“Hoots! Muster Maxby,” was the remonstrative reply.
Big Otter placed himself in front of the cortège to beat the track. The dogs followed him with the sleigh-bells ringing merrily. Blondin took hold of the tail-line, and the others brought up the rear.
Thus comfortably, with a bright sun shining in the blue sky, I returned to Fort Wichikagan.