“But you will not quit me then, father, will you?” asked Laurence.
“Well, well, I must buy fresh horses to bring in the skins and traps, and to prepare for the next season,” answered Michael. “I have no wish to leave you, lad; so don’t let that trouble you just now.”
The first fall of snow for that winter had now come down, and thickly covered the ground. For several days it compelled the trapper and his son
to keep within the shelter of their wigwam. Once more they set out. After travelling severe days, young Laurence, though he had partially recovered, again felt ready to give way. Still he trudged with his load by his father’s side. The cold had greatly increased; but though he had hitherto been indifferent to it, he felt that he would rather lie down and die than proceed further. The old man took his arm, and did his utmost to encourage him.
They at length reached a wood of birch and firs. “Oh, father, let us camp here, for I can move on no longer,” cried Laurence, in a piteous tone.
“Cheer up, cheer up, boy,” said the old trapper, repeating the expression he had frequently of late uttered. “A few steps farther, and we shall see the fort.”
The poor lad struggled on. The sun was sinking low in the sky, when, just as they doubled the wood, its beams fell on the stockaded sides of a fort, situated on slightly elevated ground out of the prairie.
“There’s our resting place at last,” exclaimed the old man, pointing with his hand towards the fort. “Keep up your courage, and we shall reach it before dark. The peltries we bring will ensure us a welcome; and though I trust not to the white men who live in cities, the chief factor there calls me his friend, and has a heart which I doubt not will feel compassion for your youth. He will treat you kindly for my sake, though most of the traders such as he care little for the old trapper who has spent his whole life in toiling for them.”
Michael continuing to support the tottering steps of his son, they at last reached the gates of the fort, which were opened to give them admittance, their approach having been observed from the look-out towers on the walls. The stockade surrounded an area of considerable size, within which were the residences of the factor and clerks, several large storehouses, and huts for the accommodation of the garrison and hunters, and casual visitors. Altogether, to Michael’s eyes, it appeared a place of great importance. A number of voyageurs and half-breeds, in their picturesque costumes, were strolling about; multitudes of children were playing at the doors of the huts; and women were seen going to and from the stores, or occupied in their daily avocations. Laurence felt somewhat awe-struck on finding himself among so many strangers, and kept close to his father. At their entrance they had been saluted by a pack of savage-looking sleigh-dogs, which came out barking at the new-comers, but were quickly driven back to their quarters by their masters.