“You are my own child!” he exclaimed, kissing her brow and cheeks again and again while he held her in his arms.
The lookers-on were greatly moved. It was some time, however, before Rose could fully comprehend that the stranger was her father, and that she belonged to him rather than to Uncle Donald.
Mr Kennedy now eagerly inquired whether we could give him any tidings of his wife.
“Extraordinary as it may seem, I think I am able to do so,” said my father. “On stopping at the Red River settlement on our way hither, I met a Mrs Kennedy, whose husband and child had, I heard, been murdered by the Indians.”
I should like to prolong my history, but I must be brief. Ponoko, after remaining a day or two with us, went among his tribe, and persuaded them that it would be to their advantage to live peaceably with their neighbours. Not many years after they entered into a treaty with the Canadian Government, and the fearful state of warfare which for so long a period had existed in that fair northern region almost entirely ceased.
We were very, very sorry to lose Rose, but Mr Kennedy was, of course, most anxious to join his wife. As soon as he could travel he set off for the Red River. He promised to return and bring his wife and Rose with him, having accepted an invitation from Uncle Donald to settle at Clearwater.
In course of time, Hugh, Alec, and I established in its neighbourhood several fairly flourishing farms, of one of which Hugh, with Rose as its mistress, became the owner. My father laboured for many years among the heathen, greatly aided by Ponoko.
The entire country, including the Rocky Mountains over which we passed, now forms part of the great Canadian dominion, and probably, before another generation has passed away, the whole region, from east to west, will be the home of happy and flourishing communities.