dale, and skirted at no great distance by what were called the pine hills, covered with timber, and running parallel to the river all the way.

'The gude God be thankit!' ejaculated Andrew Macrae, as his keen gray eyes surveyed the fair prospect, all glowing beneath the splendour of an unclouded sky, and, removing his bonnet, he offered a brief yet fervent thanksgiving. 'Eh! but it's a fine land!' he continued. 'Why, ye scarce can see a stane on it, and where there are sae mony flowers, there'll be nae lack o' fat crops in the comin' year.'

Thus speaking, Andrew gave voice to the first impression of all the men, while the women, with glad eyes, noted the soft beauty of the country, and said to one another that it was a bonnie place, and they were glad they had come to it.

As for the children, they could hardly contain themselves. The thick, soft grass in which they could roll and tumble without let or hindrance was a pure delight to them. Oh, what a romp they and the dogs did have! and how heartily Hector and Ailie entered into the merriment!

There were somewhat primitive carts to carry the heavy baggage, but the colonists all had to walk; and it was, consequently, at no hurried rate of progress, that they moved southward to their final destination.

It was in the beginning of October that the weary, travel-worn colonists, with their families and possessions, reached the tract of land beside the Red River which their lordly patron had selected for their settlement.

Their very first proceeding was to gather together and offer thanks to God, for His providential care of them through all the perils of the long journey. Never before had the clear sweet air of the prairie been stirred by the strains of sacred song, and, as the solemn beautiful music of the Psalms rose heavenward, there hurried to the wondrous novelty a motley crowd of fur hunters, half-breeds, and Indians, who remained to listen in gaping curiosity, if not in reverent appreciation, to Andrew Macrae's dignified reading from 'the Book,' and to the lengthy prayers that followed from other men of the party.

The instant the praise service was concluded, Hector, accompanied by Dour and Dandy, started out to inspect their new home. The boy was in high spirits, which his four-footed friends shared. At least, Dandy did, for he frisked and barked with great vim, thereby attracting the attention of the suspicious, snarling curs that belonged to the residents, who had never seen so handsome a member of their race before. Dour bore himself with more dignity, yet it was evident that he understood that they had arrived at the end of their tiresome travelling, and that he rejoiced thereat.

Naturally Hector turned his steps towards the fort, which was the most conspicuous feature of the scene. This did not belong to the Hudson's Bay Company, but to their bitter rivals, the North-West Fur Company, and, had the boy only known, was the stronghold of those who were to give the settlers many miserable days.

It was not a very imposing affair, simply a stout stockade in the form of a square, having one gate protected by short towers, and enclosing a cluster of buildings, only one storey in height, built in the same rough fashion.

Hector, drawing near the gate, which stood wide open, looked curiously in. The whole thing was entirely novel to him, and, boy-like, he greatly longed to understand it. Dour and Dandy, feeling ill at ease now, kept very close to him. They did not altogether like the look of things, and would have preferred retracing their steps, but of course they had not the slightest notion of deserting their young master.

As Hector stood hesitating, a young man, coming from the interior, beckoned to him in a friendly fashion, saying: 'You want come in. All right, you come.' He was clearly a half-breed, and had a dark, evil face that was far from prepossessing.

Hector instinctively disliked him, but could not very well refuse his invitation, even though the shrewd collies sniffed so suspiciously at his legs that the fellow shrank away lest they should bite him. 'Nice place, eh?' he asked, with a sly ingratiating smile. 'Plenty good furs in there,' and he pointed, with a very dirty finger, to the largest of the buildings. 'You stranger, yes? Come I show you the store.'

Hector had a premonition of trouble, but was not sufficiently strong-minded to beat a retreat, as he should have done. The half-breed certainly seemed courteous, even if the expression of his face were sinister.

Following his guide, the lad entered the trade-house, which contained the goods used in bartering with the Indians for their furs, and was astonished at the quantity and variety of the stock displayed. Here were guns, pistols, knives, hatchets, blankets, shirts, caps, mitts, tobacco, tea, sugar, smoked and salted meats, handkerchiefs, sashes, snowshoes, moccasins, coats and trousers, and so on, piled upon the floor according to a rude, but no doubt effective system.

'Plenty goods here, eh?' said the half breed, with a crafty leer, as if his object were to arouse the boy's envy. 'Company very rich—very strong—have many forts all about'—and with a sweep of his arms he indicated a wide stretch of territory. Hector certainly was much impressed by what he saw, and felt free to say so, whereat his guide seemed much gratified.

'Come now see furs—oh! fine furs!' he cried, and, taking hold of Hector's arm, led him off to another building, even more solidly built than the trade-house. A single door was both the means of admittance and of lighting the place. Inside were ranged bales of furs, the pelts of marten, mink, otter, bear, fox, wolf, and beaver, which had been trapped by Indians and half-breeds in far-away places, and brought in to exchange for the goods they coveted.

Some of the skins were loose, and the half-breed drew Hector's attention to a particularly fine blue fox, which he explained was worth 'heap money.' Hector was examining this, passing his hand over the soft, rich fur, when suddenly he was tripped and thrown upon the floor by his scoundrelly guide, who, before the boy could regain his feet, dashed out of the door and slammed it shut, setting the great bar across it.

In perfect darkness and bewilderment, Hector picked himself up. Can you blame the poor lad if his first feeling was something very like panic-stricken terror? He had been taken so completely by surprise, and felt so utterly helpless. Through the thick door, he could hear the angry barking of Dour and Dandy, who were evidently defending themselves against assailants of some kind, and he shouted with all his might: 'Help! Help! Let me out! Let me out!'

CHAPTER V

The Search for Hector

Again and again Hector cried out for help and deliverance from his prison, but, even had there been any one near, they could hardly have heard him through the thick walls and solid door of the fur-house.

Pressing his ear against the join of the door, he heard the fierce barking of the collies growing fainter and fainter, until presently he heard it no more. Evidently they had been dragged off by the half-breed, and confined somewhere.

The truth of the matter was that, to the dogs, Hector owed the alarming situation in which he found himself. While he hung about the gate of the fort, the half-breed had noticed the splendid creatures, and, at once coveting them, set about getting them into his possession. Extraordinary as his conduct may seem, the subsequent experiences of the settlers showed only too clearly that he really was not running any great risk of trouble to himself.

The faithful collies, knowing that their young master was shut up in the fur-house, stayed close at the door, and this enabled the rascally half-breed, with the aid of another whom he called upon, to fasten thongs around their necks, and to drag them off, in spite of their frantic opposition.

Hector shouted and