Chapter One.

A party of travellers were wending their way across a wide-spreading prairie in the north-west territory of America. As far as the eye could reach, the ground was covered with waving tufts of dark-green grass, interspersed with flowers of varied hue, among which could be distinguished the yellow marigold and lilac bergamot, with bluebells, harebells, and asters, innumerable; while here and there rose-bushes, covered with gorgeous bloom, appeared above the particoloured carpet spread over the country. On the north side the prairie was bounded by softly rounded knolls, between which tiny lakelets were visible, shining in the bright rays of the glowing sun. To the northward a silvery stream could be seen meandering, bordered by willows, aspens, osiers, and other trees of considerable height, breaking the line of the horizon.

“I am delighted with your country, Burnett; I had no idea such lovely scenery and so much rich soil existed on this side of the Rocky Mountains,” said one of the travellers, addressing another, who rode alongside him.

“I hope, before many years are over, to see this fair region covered with populous towns and villages, and flourishing farms.”

“That time is far distant, I suspect,” answered Mr Burnett, a head clerk of the Hudson’s Bay Company, in charge of the party; “and I can only say that I hope so, for when it comes, our vocation will be well-nigh gone, as the Company will have to shut up shop—”

“And retire on well-won fortunes,” laughingly added the first speaker, Reginald Loraine. He was a young Englishman of good fortune and family, who had lately come out to make a tour in Canada; but having heard conflicting reports of the north-west territory, he had been induced to continue his journey westward, intending to proceed as far as the foot of the Rocky Mountains, and to return, before the termination of the summer, from Fort Edmonton, down the Saskatchewan, and through Lake Winnipeg to the Red River.

His intelligence, high spirits, and good humour made him an agreeable companion. He was never put out by any mishaps or inconveniences. His personal appearance was also much in his favour; while he was a good rider, and possessed of activity and endurance, equal, if not superior, to any of the rest of the party, long accustomed though they were to the mode of life they were leading.

From the sentiments he uttered, and the expression of his handsome countenance, it might have been surmised that he possessed many other qualities of a higher character. Young Hector Mackintosh, who had come with him from Toronto, declared, indeed, that he never wished to have a stauncher fellow at his back in a skirmish with Redskins, or in a fight with a grizzly, and that he was as high-minded and generous as he was brave.

Hector, who was now curvetting over the prairie on a tough little mustang, had been at school at Toronto, whence he was returning to rejoin his father, Captain Mackintosh, now a chief officer, or factor, in charge of Fort Duncan, a Company’s post to the south-west, situated on the borders of the Blackfeet territory. It was a somewhat dangerous position, which only a man of courage and resolution would willingly have occupied.

Following at some little distance those who have been mentioned, came three other horsemen, whose shouts of laughter, interspersed occasionally with snatches of songs, could be heard far across the prairie. The centre of the three was a short, portly gentleman, with a somewhat rubicund countenance—Doctor McCrab, just appointed surgeon to one of the forts in the west. On either side of him rode two young clerks. One of them was Dan Maloney, a light-hearted Irishman, with whom the jolly Doctor amused himself by exchanging jokes, capping verses, and singing duets which set all the laws of harmony at defiance.

The other was Allan Keith, who, from similarity of taste and mental qualities, had won the regard of Reginald Loraine; indeed, except in point of wealth, the two young men greatly resembled each other.

Some way behind the gentlemen came a long team of Red River wooden carts, escorted by several persons on horseback, under charge of Jacques Leblanc, a French half-breed, who, from his reputed knowledge of the country in all directions, had been selected to act as guide to the whole party.

The carts, which had only two wheels, were built entirely of wood, and each was dragged by a single horse. Some carried the travellers’ tents, cooking utensils, a tool-chest, and additional axletrees, their arms and ammunition, together with their clothes, spare blankets, and waterproofs. The other carts were laden with stores of all sorts for the forts to the westward.

Accompanying the carts was a drove of loose horses—the animals now rearing and kicking and biting at each other—now moving along steadily, under the management of a single driver, François Chabot, also a French half-breed. He had seldom to use his long whip to keep them in order; and even the most restless showed no inclination to leave their companions. They were intended to supply the travellers with a change of steeds once or twice in the day; for in making long journeys, when day after day forty or fifty miles have to be got over between sunrise and sunset, one horse seldom possesses sufficient strength and endurance to carry his rider the whole distance.

When a horse shows signs of fatigue, his saddle is removed to the back of another, and he contentedly runs on with the herd. The horses were mostly small, and many of them sorry-looking steeds; but they had, notwithstanding, carried their riders without showing signs of fatigue, or growing thinner. Their only food was the grass they could pick up while the party were encamped at night, or during their noon-day halt, neither beans nor corn being given them.

Reginald Loraine and the Doctor had provided themselves with English saddles; the rest of the party bestrode those of native manufacture, which were merely large pads of dressed leather, stuffed with hair or grass, and having a broad and fringed crupper. Several of them were trimmed and handsomely adorned with quills, the talent of the manufacturer being especially exerted in ornamenting the saddle-cloths. The stirrups were formed of curved pieces of wood, hanging by leather thongs to the primitive saddle. The bridles might more properly be called halters. They consisted of a thong of raw hide, thirty feet in length, called an atscacha. One end was tied round the animal’s lower jaw, and the other, after being brought over the neck to the rider’s hand, was allowed to drag on the ground some fifteen feet behind. It requires care, particularly by those in the rear, not to tread on the thongs trailing behind. By so doing, the mouth of the horse receives a jerk which seldom fails to make it rear and curvet from side to side.

The object of this long thong is to enable the rider, when he dismounts, to hold his horse while he fires at a foe; or, should he be thrown by the animal stumbling in a rabbit-burrow, to prevent it running off. The long thong serves also as a halter, ever ready to tie it up, or to catch it when at liberty. Even the gentlemen who used English bridles found it convenient to have these halters secured to their horses’ heads.

Day after day the travellers had been making their way along the Fertile Belt, the name given to a broad tract of country extending between the Red River and the base of the Rocky Mountains, bordered on the north by forests, lakes, and rivers, and on the south by that sandy and desert region which extends along the whole frontier of the United States.

The party rode steadily on, every man carrying his rifle at his back; for although the natives were generally friendly, it was considered wise to be