Wrecked but not Ruined

by R. M. Ballantyne

Redding, although strongly tempted by the comforts of civilised life and the hospitality of his host—not to mention the attractions of the plump little daughters—sternly resolved not to swerve an inch from the path of what he believed to be his duty. He entertained a strong suspicion that these McLeods had penetrated into the wilderness to the neighbourhood of the Cliff Fort, not so much for the purpose of cutting timber as for secret opposition in the fur-trade, of which the company he represented had for many years enjoyed almost a monopoly. His pride was touched, his spirit was fired. Perhaps the peaceful and secluded life he had led rendered this little opportunity of warfare more a pleasure than a pain to him. At all events the thing was not to be tolerated. The saw-mill, which the McLeods had an undoubted right to erect on the unoccupied lands, was being planted on the very border of the Company’s reserve lands, which they had purchased, and which were clearly laid down in plans. He would see to it that these interlopers did not trespass by an inch—no, not by an eighth of an inch—if he had power to prevent it! The fact that the McLeods were said to be resolute men made him more determined to assert his rights. He therefore declined Mr Gambart’s invitation firmly.

“I will stay,” said he, “only one day, to look out for a house, and then return.”

“Look out for a house!” exclaimed the surveyor, in surprise, “what mean you? Do you think of settling down here?”

“Indeed I do,” replied Redding, with a smile. “I have long been brooding over that subject. The fact is, Mr Gambart, that I am tired of solitude. I am a sociable being, and find it hard to endure the society of only five or six men in a place where there are no women, no children, and no end of bears! I intend to leave the Fur Company’s service,—indeed my resignation is already sent in,—purchase a small farm here, and get—”

“Get a wife, a horse, a dog, and a gun, and settle down to enjoy yourself, eh?” interrupted the surveyor.

“Well, I had not gone quite so much into details,” answered Redding, with a laugh, “but you are right in so far as settling down goes. My only fear is that it won’t be easy to find a place that will at once suit my fancy and my purse. The small sum of money left me by my father at his death two years ago will not purchase a very extensive place, but—”

“I know the very thing to suit you,” interrupted the surveyor with emphasis, “a splendid little cottage—quite a mansion in miniature—with garden, fences, fields, outhouses, etcetera, all complete and going literally for an old song. Come, we’ll ‘go visit it by the pale moonlight’ just now, return to have tea with the ladies, and to-morrow we’ll go see it by daylight. It is close at hand, the name is Loch Dhu, and it has only one objection.”

“What may that be?” asked Redding, much amused at the abrupt little man’s energy.

“Won’t tell you till you’ve seen it; come.”

Without more ado they sallied forth and walked along the snowy track that led to the cottage in question. A few minutes sufficed to bring them to it, and the first glance showed the fur-trader that his friend had not exaggerated the beauty of the place. The cottage, although small, was so elegant in form and so tastefully planned in every respect that it well deserved the title of a mansion in miniature. It stood on a rising ground which was crowned with trees; and the garden in front, the summer-house, the porch, the trellis-work fence, the creepers, the flower-beds—everything in fact, told that it had been laid out and planned by a refined mind.