He had not gone far, however, before he began to fear that he should make but slow progress, even should he not be compelled to abandon his intentions altogether, and to leave the unhappy sufferer by himself in the forest. He staggered on till he reached a small stream, where he could obtain water to quench the sufferer’s burning thirst. He examined also the injured limb—the bone did not appear to be broken, although the flesh was fearfully bruised and discoloured.
The clay was already far advanced, and when in a short time he began to feel the strain which had been put on his own muscles, he came to the resolution of encamping where they were, and should no one appear, to continue the journey the next day.
Having first bathed the sufferer’s leg in the cold waters of the stream, and bound it up as he best could, he commenced making preparations for encamping, by cutting some spruce fir tops for a bed, collecting stakes and slabs of birch bark to form a hut, and dry branches for a fire. This did not take him long. He hurried through the work, for he wished to shoot some birds or catch some fish for supper. Having lighted a fire, he left his patient, suffering less apparently than before, and went off up the stream hoping to find the necessary provisions.
He was more successful even than he expected, and returned with an ample supply of fish and fowl. Hitherto the stranger had been in too much pain to speak more than a few words. The food greatly revived him; and as he sat up, leaning against the side of the hut, Donald observed that his eyes were fixed on him with an inquiring look. Donald had spoken several times in broad Scotch.
“It must be so,” exclaimed the stranger at length, “though I am not surprised, Donald Morrison, that you do not know me.”
Donald gazed eagerly at the stranger’s countenance, then leaning forward, grasped his hand.
“Yes, I know you now, Alec Galbraith, my dear friend,” he exclaimed, “though till this moment I had no suspicion who you were. How thankful I am that I should have been sent to your help.”
Donald then told Alec how anxiously he had been inquiring for him, and how sorry he had been at being unable to discover where he was. “I don’t like to make you talk now, though,” he added. “You must tell me all about yourself by-and-by.”
“That would not take long, Donald,” answered Alec. “Though, as the subject is not a pleasant one, I will gladly defer it. Just before I had discovered who you were I had been intending to insist on your leaving me till you could send some one back from the township to bring me in, if any one could be found to perform so thankless an office for a wretched pauper like me. I had been counting on my strong arm and resolution to make my way in the backwoods, as many another determined fellow has done, and now I find myself suddenly brought down, and for what I can tell to the contrary, a helpless cripple for life.”
“You are right in supposing that I would not leave you, my dear Alec,” answered Donald gently. “Indeed, I would not have done so had you been a stranger. Trust to God’s loving mercy for the future. Your leg is not, I hope, materially injured, and on your recovery you may be able to carry out the plan you proposed, for I feel sure you will find employment for your head as well as your arm, and the two together, in this magnificent country, will secure you all you can require. But oh, Alec, if you would but put faith in the love of God and His protecting care you would no longer be in dread of the future.”