“‘Because—because—’ he answered, ‘it could do no good, and it might do harm. No, my rubbit, the time may come, but not now—not yet. Listen; for your mother’s sake I left the home of the pale-faces and came to live with your tribe. For her sake I shall remain. But you know that life is uncertain. We cannot tell when the Great Master of Life may call us away. Sometimes he calls us suddenly and we are forced to leave our works unfinished. I may be called away thus, before the time comes when I may tell you what I want you to know. If so, you will find it all here.’
“My father took from the breast of his coat a small bundle wrapped in birch-bark and placed it in my hands.
“‘Do not open it,’ he said. ‘Do not show it to man or woman in the tribe. They could not understand, but if ever a white man comes here, whom you feel that you can trust, show it to him.’
“My father rose as he said this, and as he seemed to wish not to speak more about it, I did not trouble him, but I went and hid the parcel with care. It was almost immediately afterwards that my dear father was taken from me.”
We were suddenly interrupted at this point by the appearance of a man in the distance walking smartly towards us. I could perceive, as he drew near, that it was James Dougall.
“Well, well, Muster Maxby,” he said on coming up, “it’s gled I am to find you. I’ve been seekin’ you far an’ near.”
“Nothing wrong, I hope, Dougall,” said I with some anxiety, on observing that the man was perspiring and panting vehemently.
“No, no, nothin’ wrong, Muster Maxby, only it’s runnin’ aboot the wuds I’ve been, lookin’ for ye an’ skirlin’ like a pair o’ pipes. We’re aboot to draw the seine-net, ye see, an’ Tonald Pane said it would be a peety, says he, to begin when ye wur awa’, an’ Muster Lumley agreet wi’ um, an’ sent me oot to seek for ’ee—that’s a’.”
“Come along then, Dougall, we won’t keep them waiting.”
Nodding adieu to Waboose, I hurried away towards Fort Wichikagan, followed by the sturdy Highlander.