“Ah! oh! Saskatchewan—hum—yes—outpost—wild boy—just so—keep him at it—ay, fit for nothing else. So,” said Mr Park, folding the paper, “I find that Mr Grant has sent you to take the place of a young gentleman we expected to pick up at Norway House, but who is required elsewhere; and that he wishes you to see a good deal of rough life—to be made a trader of, in fact. Is that your desire?”
“That’s the very ticket!” replied Harry, scarcely able to restrain his delight at the prospect.
“Well, then, you had better get supper and turn in, for you’ll have to begin your new life by rising at three o’clock to-morrow morning. Have you got a tent?”
“Yes,” said Harry, pointing to his canoe, which had been brought to the fire and turned bottom up by the two Indians to whom it belonged, and who were reclining under its shelter enjoying their pipes, and watching with looks of great gravity the doings of Harry and his friend.
“That will return whence it came to-morrow. Have you no other?”
“Oh yes,” said Harry, pointing to the overhanging branches of a willow close at hand, “lots more.”
Mr Park smiled grimly, and turning on his heel re-entered the tent and continued his pipe, while Harry flung himself down beside Charley under the bark canoe.
This species of “tent” is, however, by no means a perfect one. An Indian canoe is seldom three feet broad—frequently much narrower—so that it only affords shelter for the body as far down as the waist, leaving the extremities exposed. True, one may double up as nearly as possible into half one’s length, but this is not a desirable position to maintain throughout an entire night. Sometimes, when the weather is very bad, an additional protection is procured by leaning several poles against the bottom of the canoe, on the weather side, in such a way as to slope considerably over the front; and over these are spread pieces of birch bark or branches and moss, so as to form a screen, which is an admirable shelter. But this involves too much time and labour to be adopted during a voyage, and is only done when the travellers are under the necessity of remaining for some time in one place.
The canoe in which Harry arrived was a pretty large one, and looked so comfortable when arranged for the night that Charley resolved to abandon his own tent and Mr Park’s society, and sleep with his friend.
“I’ll sleep with you, Harry, my boy,” said he, after Harry had explained to him in detail the cause of his being sent away from Red River; which was no other than that a young gentleman, as Mr Park said, who was to have gone, had been ordered elsewhere.