darkness rushed Hector and flung himself, half-sobbing, into his father's arms.

Andrew returned the embrace warmly, and then asked in a tone of surprise and concern: 'Was no' Dandy with you?'

'Why no, father!' replied Hector. 'The man that shut me up took both Dour and Dandy away with him.'

'Then we maun find the dog,' was the resolute rejoinder. 'Here, Dour, gude dog, call Dandy.' Without a moment's hesitation, the well-trained creature poured forth a volley of barks that meant as plainly as possible, 'Dandy, where are you? Tell us.'

'Now listen, friends, for the answer,' said Mr. Macrae, with a grim smile.

There was no doubt about the response, for out of the surrounding gloom burst a chorus of canine music that fairly made the welkin ring, and how Dandy's particular contribution could be distinguished seemed a hopeless problem.

But Mr. Macrae waited silently until the commotion had somewhat subsided, and then, pointing to the northern end of the enclosure, said confidently: 'There's whaur they've got Dandy.'

Dour evidently approved of their going thither, and presently, turning the corner of one of the most remote buildings, they found the object of their search, half-strangled in his frantic efforts to break the thong that held him fast.

'God be thanked—we've found all three, and they're nane the waur of it,' said Mr. Macrae, in a tone of fervent gratitude; and then, his voice changing to righteous indignation, 'by the morn we'll find out why this was done to ma laddie, and who did it.'

With the morn, however, came strange and startling events, that caused Hector's peculiar experience to be entirely forgotten. To understand these aright, a little explanation is necessary. Although the great Hudson's Bay Company claimed full ownership of the North-West, their right to this vast wilderness was vigorously disputed by a company formed in Lower Canada and called the North-West Fur Company. The rivalry between the two companies for control of the fur-trade was intense and unscrupulous. They resorted to all sorts of stratagems to injure each other, and wherever one built a fort, the other soon established a second within sight. Often their employees, made wild with strong drink, broke out into open violence and many lives were lost, and a number of forts sacked and burned in the course of the bitter struggle.

Now, the Nor-Westers, as they were called for short, regarded the advent of the Scotch folk with lively animosity. They suspected it to be a shrewd device of their rivals to get a firmer grip upon the country. The new-comers would not be rovers like themselves, but settlers, who would build houses, and till the rich soil, and multiply in numbers until they became a power in the land.

This far-seeing scheme must be nipped in the bud, and forthwith they set themselves to do it.

The strange part of the whole affair was that they ran slight risk of interference with their nefarious design from their hated rivals, for the employees of the Hudson's Bay Company, although, of course, they would take no part against the immigrants, were little more in favour of their coming than the Nor-Westers. They did not want the country settled. They had much rather it should remain a hunters' paradise, and they were not disposed to lift a finger on behalf of the newcomers.

The first morning after the settlers' arrival seemed full of kindly promise. Summer was just giving way to autumn. The prairie air was clear and bracing without being too cool. The sun shone from an azure sky upon a vast expanse of golden-hued turf almost as level as a floor, that only required to be turned over by the plough to be ready for fall seeding.

The hardy Scotch folk, accustomed to the rocky uplands and stony meadows of their 'ain countree,' looked with wonder and delight at the rich inheritance into which they had come.

'Eh, mon! but it's grand, grand!' ejaculated Saunders Rowan, in a tone of unqualified appreciation. He was the senior member of the party, and had been rather given to 'croaking,' but this glorious morning his doubts and fears were all dispelled.

The women busied themselves preparing the morning meal, while the children and dogs romped and rolled joyously in the rich, soft grass. It was altogether a pretty picture, that seemed to be a happy augury of the good times in store.

Suddenly, like a bolt out of the blue, this scene of gladness and peace changed to one of terror and strife. With no more warning than if they had risen out of the ground itself, there charged down upon the defenceless settlers a band of Indians in full war paint, mounted upon their piebald ponies, armed with spears, bows, arrows, and guns, which weapons they brandished fiercely, while they gave their awful war-whoop with all the power of their lungs.

Crying to their children, and gathering them close, as the mother hen does her chickens at sight of a hawk, the women huddled together in a panic-stricken group, while the doughty dogs faced the enemy with flashing teeth and threatening growls, and the men rushed to snatch up their guns, or anything else that might serve as an effective weapon.

For a moment it seemed as if blood must be shed. The Indians seemed ripe for mischief and the stalwart Scots were determined to defend their dear ones to the last extremity.

But before a blow was struck, the band, at a signal from their leader, brought their horses to a halt, and ceased their hideous howlings. The leader then drew out from his mob of followers, and holding up his hands in token of his wish to parley, asked in broken English for the chief man of the strangers.

There was at first some hesitancy among the Scots at replying to this. They had never formally chosen a leader, although, naturally, some of the men had shown themselves stronger and shrewder than others. Presently all eyes turned towards Andrew Macrae. No man was fitter by appearance or sagacity to be their spokesman, and, in response to their unmistakable choice, he stepped forward.

'I'm but one of our little company, yet if ye'll tell me what ye mean by a' this claverin' and scarin' peaceable folk, I'm ready to talk wi' ye.'

The Indian leader straightened up in his saddle. The stern, stalwart Scotsman was no antagonist to be trifled with, and his first intention of using the ready wit for which he had a reputation, to bait the strangers for the amusement of his followers, before proceeding to rougher measures, underwent a change. Such a man needed to be dealt with in a different fashion. Accordingly, assuming as much dignity as he could command, he began to explain what the alarming demonstration meant.

His speech was a strange jargon compounded of English, French and Indian words that would have sorely puzzled poor Mr. Macrae, were it not helped out by a vigorous pantomime, that enabled him to follow the drift of it, after a fashion.

The purport was serious enough, and his normally grave countenance grew graver still as the meaning became clearer to him.

In brief, it was an order to quit! Having at last reached their haven, after so long and perilous a journey over sea and land, they were summarily commanded to depart, and that without delay.

CHAPTER VII

How Hector Got His Nickname

At first, Mr. Macrae refused to credit his own intelligence. The idea was too appalling, and in his slow, deliberate way he made the Indian leader repeat and reiterate his sinister communication.

Then, calling aside the seniors of his party, who had all been watching the parley with intent, anxious faces, he told them the startling truth.

Naturally enough, they likewise were at the outset incredulous, and stirred to righteous wrath. What had this howling mob of painted and befeathered Indians to do with them? They were not the lords of the land now, whatever they might have been before the coming of the white man. Lord Selkirk