CHAPTER FIVE.
SAVED.
Duncan McKay senior was dreaming of, and gloating over, the flesh-potsof Red River, and his amiable daughter was rambling over the greencarpet of the summer prairies, when the sun arose and shone upon thebushes which surrounded their winter camp--Starvation Camp, as the oldman had styled it.
There is no saying how long Duncan would have gloated, and the fairElspie wandered, if a hair of the buffalo robe on which the former layhad not entered his nostril, and caused him to sneeze.
Old McKay's sneeze was something to be remembered when once heard.Indeed it was something that could not be forgotten! From theprofoundest depths of his person it seemed to burst, and how his nosesustained the strain without splitting has remained one of the mysteriesof the Nor'-West unto this day. It acted like an electric shock onElspie, who sat bolt upright at once with a scared look that was quitein keeping with her tousled hair.
"Oh! daddy, what a fright you gave me!" Elspie said, remonstratively.
"It iss goot seventeen years an' more that you hev had to get used toit, whatever," growled the old man. "I suppose we've got nothin' forbreakfast?"
He raised himself slowly, and gazed at Elspie with a disconsolateexpression.
"Nothing," returned the girl with a look of profound woe.
It is said that when things are at the worst they are sure to mend. Itmay be so: the sayings of man are sometimes true. Whether or not thecircumstances of Elspie and old McKay were at the worst is an openquestion; but there can be no doubt that they began to mend just aboutthat time, for the girl had not quite got rid of her disconsolatefeelings when the faint but merry tinkle of sleigh-bells was heard inthe frosty air.
The startled look of sudden surprise and profound attention isinteresting to behold, whether in old or young. It is a condition ofbeing that utterly blots out self for a brief moment in the personaffected, and allows the mind and frame for once to have freeunconscious play.
Elspie said, "Sh!--" and gazed aside with wide and lustrous eyes, head alittle on one side, a hand and forefinger slightly raised, as if toenforce silence, and her graceful figure bent forward--a petrifaction ofintensely attentive loveliness.
Old McKay said "Ho!" and, with both hands resting on the ground to prophim up, eyes and mouth wide open, and breath restrained, presented thevery personification of petrified stupidity.
Another moment, and the sound became too distinct to admit of a doubt.
"Here they are at long last!" exclaimed the old man, rising withunwonted alacrity for his years.
"Thank God!" ejaculated Elspie, springing up and drawing a shawl roundher shoulders, at the same time making some hasty and futile attempts toreduce the confusion of her hair.
It need scarcely be said that this was the arrival of the rescue-partyof which Daniel Davidson was in command. Before the starving pair hadtime to get fairly on their legs, Daniel strode into the camp and seizedElspie in his arms.
We need not repeat what he said, for it was not meant to be made public,but no such reticence need trouble us in regard to old Duncan.
"Hoot! Taniel," said he, somewhat peevishly, "keep your coortin' tillefter breakfast, man! It iss a wolf that will be livin' inside o' mefor the last few tays--a hungry wolf too--an' nothin' for him to eat.That's right, Okematan, on wi' the kettle; it iss yourself that knowswhat it iss to starve. Blow up the fire, Peter Tavidson. You're acliver boy for your age, an' hes goot lungs, I make no doubt."
"That I have, Mr McKay, else I should not be here," said the lad,laughing, as he knelt before the embers of the fire, and blew them intoa blaze.
"Wow! Dan, hev ye not a pit pemmican handy?" asked McKay. "It isslittle I care for cookin' just now."
"Here you are," said Dan, taking a lump of the desired article from hiswallet and handing it to the impatient man; at the same time giving amorsel to Elspie. "I knew you would want it in a hurry, and kept ithandy. Where is Duncan? I thought he was with you."
"So he wass, Taniel, when you left us to go to Rud Ruver, but my sonTuncan was never fond o' stickin' to his father. He left us, an' no wanknows where he iss now. Starvin', maybe, like the rest of us."
"I hope not," said Elspie, while her sire continued his breakfast withmanifest satisfaction. "He went off to search for buffalo with Perrinand several others. They said they would return to us if they foundanything. But, as they have not come back, we suppose they must havebeen unsuccessful. Did you meet any of the poor people on the way out,Dan?"
"Ay, we met some of them," replied the hunter, in a sad tone. "Allstruggling to make their way back to the Settlement, and all more orless starving. We helped them what we could, but some were past help;and we came upon two or three that had fallen in their tracks and diedin the snow. But we have roused the Settlement, and there are manyrescue-parties out in all directions now, scouring the plains."
"You hev stirred it enough, Okematan," said old McKay, referring to thekettle of food which was being prepared. "Here, fill my pannikin: I canwait no longer."
"Whenever you have finished breakfast we must start off home," saidDavidson, helping Elspie to some of the much-needed and not yet warmedsoup, which was quickly made by mixing pemmican with flour and water."I have brought two sleds, so that you and your father may ride, and wewill carry the provisions. We never know when the gale may break outagain."
"Or when heavy snow may come on," added Peter, who was by that time busywith his own breakfast.
Okematan occupied himself in stirring the contents of the large kettle,and occasionally devouring a mouthful of pemmican uncooked.
An hour later, and they were making for home almost as fast as therescue-party had travelled out--the provisions transferred to the strongbacks of their rescuers--old McKay and Elspie carefully wrapped up infurs, reposing on the two sledges.
The Buffalo Runners: A Tale of the Red River Plains Page 5
