Chapter VI: New Duties Lead to Larger Tests

With Robert’s return to Fort Garry a new incident, one which was to lead him into unexpected and far-reaching new paths, developed. When he returned to Factor Donald he was informed that a dangerous criminal had been captured and brought to the fort, and that it was to be someone’s duty to deliver the offender to Little York, on the shore of Lake Ontario. It is perhaps easy to understand why Donald had selected Robert as the probable guide. He knew that the young man could be depended on in every way. He knew that the journey would be a long and trying one, and knowing something of the prisoner, understood just what would be demanded of the leader of the expedition. Had he known that his choice would mean the loss of his most helpful assistant he would probably have risked placing the prisoner in the charge of some other employee. However, he was responsible for the safe delivery of the criminal to the authorities at Little York, and he intended that, so far as possible, his duties in this regard should be fulfilled. The journey under these conditions, as could be anticipated, did not appeal to Robert. He had liked his work of the past winters, and he was anxious to go ahead with his Indians to carry forward the Company’s interests. When Donald told him, however, what would be expected of him and that he would be serving the Company just as directly in this way as in the other he made no protest, and while the outlook for the long trip with a companion who could not be congenial was anything but pleasant, he felt that he must be true to his duty, must obey the orders given by his superior, and agreed to assume the responsibility.

When he got a chance to look at the prisoner a little time later he appreciated more of what the situation meant. The criminal was over six feet and built accordingly. Apparently he had roamed in the wilds until the effects of civilization had been lost on him, and he was now more like an animal than a human being. However, Robert had undertaken to do the job and he intended to carry it through. Preparations were made for the long journey of more than fifteen hundred miles, and good-byes were said to the few trappers and Company employees who were not already in the forests for the winter season. A surprise came to Robert when he was invited to take dinner with Factor Donald the last night before his departure. While he knew that this man had appreciated his work he had never been able to get under the Factor’s cold attitude. This last night, however, proved that the young man’s character had won a place, for Donald spoke to him as he had never done before and said good-bye to him almost tenderly.

By this time Robert had become an expert dog driver, and he was not displeased when he was given a team of the finest huskies owned by the Company. His prisoner, with hands and feet securely fastened, was placed on the sled with the provisions and necessary supplies. The man had refused to walk, saying he would rather freeze first, so that there was nothing to do but transport him in this fashion. Everything went well the first day. The dogs, being fresh, travelled well, and the prisoner, although he had not been informed of the party’s destination, did not cause particular trouble. He was sullen and refused to talk, but, pinioned as he was and tied to the sled, was not in a position while the party was travelling to be the occasion of much disturbance.

The first night in camp with such a prisoner was not a particularly pleasing incident. Robert had made up his mind during the day, however, to try the same tactics on his prisoner as he had tried with the Indians the first winter of his experiences in the North-West. He prepared as good a meal as was possible under the circumstances, partially loosening him so that he could eat without difficulty, served him first, and gave him every consideration that was possible. The man’s nature, however, was very evident. He remained sullen and vicious, and when he did speak punctured his sentences with oaths, which told something of his thoughts and the kind of a life he had been living. Apparently, too, he had misread his man, thinking that because his guide was youthful in appearance that he could be browbeaten and made afraid.

After supper Robert made his prisoner as comfortable as possible. While the chains were still left upon his ankles, they were loosened so that he could take short steps and yet could not walk at all rapidly. Then Robert heaped up the fire and, following a decision made earlier in the day, thought it would not be safe for him to go to sleep, but sat by the fire and after a little time assumed the attitude of sleep. At the same time he watched the prisoner from the corner of his eye. After a little time he saw the man glance at him carefully and slyly, and then noted that he was working himself into an upright position. A moment later the chains on the man’s ankles rattled and like a flash the villain was on his feet and moving toward the fire. It was well for Robert that he had been watching, for it was evident from the man’s eyes that he intended to give no mercy. When the man was almost on him Robert jumped up with his gun in his hand and faced the surprised villain.

“Get back!” he cried. “I have tried to treat you decently, but I see you do not appreciate it. You won’t have another chance either at me or to escape while you are in my charge. It will be a grind and a fight from here on.”

Following this policy Robert watched his prisoner continually. During the day he loosened his bonds sufficiently to let him get the necessary exercise, but took good care that he had a weapon at hand conveniently while he was doing so. At night he chained him more closely so that he could not rise alone. In this condition he was placed by the fire so that he would not freeze. For the first night or two Robert had gone without sleep and intended to do so, knowing that his prisoner must be carefully watched, so long as he could.

With the hardships of the trail, however, he soon learned that he must have the requisite sleep to make him fit for travel the next day. He was careful, however, to keep some of the dogs between the prisoner and himself. By this time the huskies had begun to respond to his kind treatment and he knew that he was not likely to be disturbed.

Robert thought he had learned something about snow and cold in the North-West, but as the days passed by and he began to journey along the north shore of Lake Superior he found an unusual situation. For several days the sun seemed scarcely to show its face and snow fell day after day without let-up. The cold, too, increased in severity, and with all this the travelling was becoming very hard, and as they came into heavier wooded sections another danger appeared. Occasionally during the day Robert had seen skulking wolves following the party at a little distance, and as these increased he knew that the packs were hovering about in considerable numbers. At night, while they were resting, the young man had little fear, for it was easy to build huge fires, which he knew would keep the animals at bay. Again, he was little troubled for himself or his dogs, but he was disturbed for his helpless prisoner, whom he intended to deliver, according to instructions, at Little York.

With this came another trouble. While the dogs had been going splendidly, the continual travelling in the deep snow had been very trying, and with the added weight of the prisoner this condition was accentuated. Finally the dogs refused to go further. Robert did his best with the splendid old leader, who in his turn tried to pull the team through the huge drifts, but his efforts were without avail. The idea occurred to him of reasoning with the prisoner, but he concluded that such attempts were useless, since the villain continued to return only oaths for his kindness and had apparently made up his mind to make his escape if the opportunity ever offered itself. There was apparently little of the human in this man. He would not respond to kindness in any form.

Robert prepared camp for the night, hoping that a rest would fit the dogs for another day’s travel, and this time the animals were given special care. As he measured out their food his thoughts flew back to his old collie dog in his Orkney home, and he remembered how anxious that animal had been to serve him. He realized that not only did the success of his expedition, but also that his own life depended on the dogs and that it was almost more than could be expected that the animals could cope with conditions such as they had met with the last few days for very much longer.

Another morning came, still without the sun. The sky was heavy and black and snow continued to fall. Around the little band every twig, every branch, was carrying its burden of white crystals. The cedars, balsam and spruce, as well as the larger pines, were dressed in robes of white purity, and the less sturdy of these were bending low under the weight of their mantle. Another day of struggle brought them somewhat nearer their goal, but again the dogs became excited, and when the expedition stopped for the night Robert noticed that the wolves were nearer than they had been before. The next morning when the time came to start out it was found that two of the dogs were unable to go further. They had done their best and more could not be expected from them. Robert then had to perform a painful duty, for it was necessary to put these faithful brutes out of their misery. To somewhat counterbalance the loss of this pulling power everything that could possibly be gotten along without was taken from the pack and left behind. They travelled slowly, but kept moving on and on through the deep, newly-fallen snow.

In this northern region at this season of the year the days were exceedingly short, and since it was impossible to travel after dark the hours of struggle were comparatively brief. After another day or two Robert was convinced of the necessity of still further care in regard to rations, and the prisoner was informed that his allowance would be cut in two. His only answer to this came in curses, surely an evidence that there was little of tenderness in his make-up. At nights the dogs were buried deep in the snow, asleep. The prisoner could sleep well, but while the sternness of the struggle made some sleep necessary for Robert, the difficult situation bothered him a good deal and made his sleep anything but regular. He was worried, for instance, over the outlook, wondering whether it was at all probable that the duty he had undertaken would be fulfilled. He was worried by the constant aloofness and sullenness on the part of his prisoner, and he was worried again by apprehensions as to his powers of dealing single-handed with the wolf pack, which he knew was daily becoming bolder.

One afternoon, as he stood by the huge fire of burning logs which he had gotten together to keep the wolves away during the hours of darkness and which it was necessary for him to replenish from time to time, his thoughts drifted away from the troublesome ones which usually impressed him and involuntarily, it seemed, he began to plan for the future. Then, in a moment, as he stood looking into the flickering flames, an attractive face, of a type which he thought would be ideal as a companion in life, as a loving helpmate who would make life worth while, appeared to him. Perhaps it was not surprising that thoughts of this kind gave him new determination, and he decided at the moment that if he was given the strength to reach Little York with his prisoner he would resign from the Company’s employ, would build a cabin for himself and look for a sweetheart, one whom he could love and help through life’s journey and who would love him and help him in return.

His dream met a sudden interruption. The wolves had been more troublesome than usual that night, and occasionally, as he had seen their eyes gleaming in the circle outside the camp-fire, Robert had made good use of his shotgun. Suddenly, with howls from the pack, one animal larger than the rest made a dash straight for him and in his own way called to the others to follow. Fortunately, Robert’s gun was ready, and the first wolf fell in his track. Here again came into play the stamina and the self-control which had been bred into Robert in the island home and which had been developed during his years in Canada. An ordinary man, or one less experienced, would have flunked under the situation, but Robert kept cool and made certain that whenever he was able to fire the shot would have the expected effect. Finally, when two or three animals closed in and he could not handle his muzzle-loader quickly enough to be of further service he used a huge, burning brand and, swinging it around his head in fiery circles, drove the band back from the little camp. After this he built up the fire freshly, and the new blaze served to keep the animals away until day dawned.

The next day the struggle was resumed, and in spite of the difficulties, in spite of the cold, in spite of the protest on the part of the dogs and the prisoner, mile after mile was gained on the long journey. The day had been quiet so far as storm was concerned, but in mid-afternoon the sky suddenly turned black until the heavens seemed dropping to earth. Then, as the little party passed out of a patch of woods, howls were heard as though coming from everywhere, and Robert realized that the pack of the night before had been largely reinforced and that he would have to meet another testing period. This time he knew that the situation would be more trying, and with a view to getting what help he could he threw the harness from the dogs, knowing that they would defend themselves bravely. He looked to the prisoner to see what aid could be expected from him, but again the character of the man showed itself in his face, since abject fear was stamped thereon. He was desperately afraid. Robert knew, however, that if it came to the worst this human brute would be of some service, and in his sense of justice he knew that the man should be given a chance at least to fight for his life. Besides, he had undertaken the duty of landing the prisoner alive at his destination, and he readily understood that unless every possible effort were made in the present crisis it was probable that his duty would not be fulfilled. The prisoner was rather surprised, and for once a spark of gratefulness came to his eyes when the chains binding his arms and hands were removed and the axe placed beside him. Robert placed his back to a tree where he could watch the prisoner and at the same time keep the wolves from surrounding him.

He was ready just in time, for the hungry animals, with hanging tongues and fiery eyes, seemed to be rushing in from every direction. Crack! went the young man’s gun, and as quickly as he could load and fire a wolf fell. No bullets were wasted. Every one told. Don, the old leader of the dogs, took his share in the fight also, challenging the leaders of the pack and taking a place directly in front of the young man. On and on the animals came, pushing one another forward, climbing over the bodies of those which fell at the shots from the gun. After a minute or two of fighting old Don went down. Robert was in process of loading. He jammed the charge to the bottom of the barrel, drew out the ramrod and fired into the middle of the pack; then seeing that his leader must be saved and that time could not be wasted to re-load, he dropped his gun, grabbed his axe and waded into the pack, swinging the weapon right and left. The prisoner for once was proving himself useful. This time he was fighting for his own life. He knew what the outcome would be unless he bore his share of the responsibility, and he showed that he knew well how to swing an axe. Wolf after wolf fell from the blows of the heavy weapon. In one instant, when he had felled a wolf at one side, another sprang for his throat. Robert had been trying to watch the man out of the corner of his eye (for he knew he could not trust him) while he had been struggling with the wolf pack, and had his opinion as to the strength and ability of the prisoner in a country of this kind confirmed. With seemingly more than human strength the huge fellow tore the wolf from his throat and threw him back among the others, at the same time administering a blow of the axe with the other hand to another which had pressed in on him from the right.

For minutes the struggle continued. Don and the other dogs fought valiantly, but the numbers were overwhelming, and looking around him Robert saw that the members of his team were helpless, most of them lying dead. At the moment he did not realize the situation, but had one been looking on the impression gained would have been decidedly grim. The clothing of both the fighting men had been badly torn. Gashes had been made in various places on their bodies. Their hands were wounded and bloody. Robert, however, was as full of fight as ever. Finally there came a headlong rush of the wolves, which with difficulty was beaten back, and then a lull. Half the pack had been disposed of and the remainder apparently had not the courage to continue the struggle. With tails between their legs they one by one withdrew to the shades of the forest.

When this danger was over Robert was sure from the glint in the prisoner’s eyes that he was face to face with a new one. While the man could only move slowly on his feet, he took up a threatening attitude. Robert had been prepared to thank him for the part he had taken in the struggle, and even in the face of this threat held his temper accordingly. Advancing toward the prisoner, but keeping out of reach, he asked him calmly to submit to having the irons placed on his wrists again. The answer came back quickly and viciously in the negative. With an oath the villain said:

“I have been fighting for my life. I will fight you now for my freedom. It is up to you and me to settle our accounts.”

Decision came to the young man like a flash. Before the fellow could move he grabbed the handle of the axe with a grip of steel and at the same time dealt the man a crack on the chin which laid him for the moment helpless. While the giant was unconscious the irons were again fastened on his wrists, and while he was returning to consciousness a fire was kindled in a section of the wood removed from the scene of struggle, to which he was dragged and made as comfortable as possible on a blanket. When he came to Robert was eyeing him steadily, and when he saw that his man could understand him he said, firmly:

“I am sorry I had to punish you, but you know yourself that it was necessary. If you will behave yourself the rest of the way I will treat you kindly; but you will be watched, and if you try any tricks like that last one on me you will get your deserts just as you did that time. You may think you are a strong man, but you are not a brave one. You’re a coward, and you are going to be treated like a coward.”

The night was spent at this point in the woods, and Robert rose early to try to size up the situation. During the night two of his dogs returned to him. One, while somewhat injured, was able, after a supply of food was given him, to do part of his share of the work with the sled. Before leaving the place Robert could not resist the temptation of going to have a last look at the old leader, Don, who had fought so bravely for his master in the struggle of the day before. With these thoughts naturally came a remembrance of his old dog back in the Orkney home, and this led to thoughts of his mother and father and brothers and sister.

When the start was made Robert saw that he was face to face with assuming most of the burden of drawing the sled. The two dogs were of some little help, but without Don to lead them they needed continual attention. Again Robert made an appeal to the prisoner, suggesting that if he would behave himself and would travel ahead of the sled the chains on his feet would be removed. The only response, given as usual in foul words, was that not one step would be travelled. Robert saw then that the prisoner expected and hoped that he would collapse and that thus freedom would come to him. The fellow’s calculations were wrong, however. He did not know the endurance of the lad, nor did he realize that there was a heart within this young body which did not know defeat. After he had cut down still further the load of supplies, Robert strapped the prisoner still more securely and then, putting the dogs ahead of him where he could use the whip when necessary, he got himself into the harness and started on again.

Then, as so frequently happens when men struggle against difficulties and when the crisis seems to be past, nature seemed to smile and give her aid. The sun came out again and played with its rays on the mantle of snow. With the moderating weather and the heat of the sun the snow packed better, and this made the drawing of the sled much easier. During the day, also, two or three deer crossed the trail and a fortunate shot brought a very welcome food supply. Just in time, too, for the provisions were almost exhausted. This incident impressed Robert, as had not occurred to him before, with the generous provision God had made for man in the forest solitudes. He understood, as he had not done previously, that a food supply was generally ready and that it only required man’s own efforts to secure what he needed.

With the more favorable weather, too, and with an instinctive feeling that he was approaching civilization, Robert began to appreciate something of the bits of nature in this new district. As another day or two passed they began to travel through almost unbroken forest, rough and rocky sections where the trail, though better than it had been before, showed occasional signs of travel. Animal life, too, began to be more frequent, and although it was winter time almost every foot of the trail showed traces of animals, small and large, going about as instinct directed.

For several days the sled with its heavy burden was drawn along the trail. As the days went by Robert anxiously consulted the map which had been given him by Factor Donald, and while it was difficult to follow this with any accuracy, he knew by certain signs that he could not now be far distant from Little York. One day two Indians were encountered. Robert had no wish to meet strangers, and particularly Indians, until his prisoner was safely landed at the destination. Therefore, when he saw that they were not members of any tribe he was familiar with and realized that in all probability their language would be different from that to which he was accustomed, he tramped past them without stopping. He saw how carefully they eyed the prisoner, but finally they passed by without commenting.

After another day the prisoner was surprised when Robert did not make the usual halt for camp in the evening. The moon was full, and after such supper as could be prepared the young man kept on through the night with only a short rest as the light became dim during the early morning. On the following day plainly-blazed trails leading through the yet unbroken forest of pine and oak monarchs such as he had not previously seen were met with, and here Robert stopped, resting, to look up at these huge giants of the forest towering to the skies. That afternoon a log cabin was seen. Robert realized how a lone pioneer had blazed his way into the forest solitude, how he had hewn out a home for himself and his loved ones in the heart of the forest, and at the moment there returned to him his dream by the camp-fire in the north-western district, and he wondered and renewed his determination to go into the forest shortly and to build such a cabin for his future home. He would have liked to have visited the cabin, from whose chimney a welcoming smoke appeared, but with him duty was always first and the landing of his prisoner safely was uppermost in his mind. After a few minutes’ rest he started onward with quickened pace, and since the trail seemed to furnish a downward slope the way from this on seemed easier.

The following morning Robert noticed further signs of habitation. He passed here and there strips of clearing, and about noon came out of the forest. After the several days travelling through the unbroken sweeps of woodland it was like entering a new world, and coming over the crest of the hill Little York lay below and in full sight. His goal was reached. As his eye swept over the hamlet below him, the largest centre he had seen since leaving his Orkney home, he saw the bright coats of the soldiers standing out against the snow as they paraded on guard along the fort to the west, and he noted also the windmill standing at the edge of the lake to the east. Beyond a stretch of water to the south lay a barely-wooded sandbar.

Naturally, some little attention was attracted and comment was made as the strange party passed through the streets which, to Robert’s eyes seemed unusually busy. Several tried to halt him to inquire his business, but as always duty came first, and only stopping to inquire the way to the jail, he passed on without hesitating. His charge was soon landed in custody and his responsibility for the prisoner turned over to the jailer.

Only when his responsibility was removed did Robert realize what a burden it had been. His task had been a most trying one, but he had certainly done his part manfully in dealing with the prisoner. While his patience had been tried in every way, he had been as kind as reason could demand. His great desire had been to kindle a spark of love in the prisoner’s soul and if possible to raise him from the bestial spirit which seemed to possess him. While he had failed in this he knew that he had done his duty, and as he stepped from the jail with his responsibilities in this incident and to the Company ended he felt as though a huge burden had been removed from his shoulders. After finding comfortable quarters he made his way to the Company’s representatives, deposited his papers and received the salary due him. Then, without further consideration, for it will be remembered he had made up his mind in the matter, he wrote a letter of resignation and in it thanked the Company for its kindness. At the same time a letter was sent forward to his mother and the loved ones at home telling something of the experiences of the last few weeks. Thoughts of them brought remembrances of his old friend Sandy, and, while he had no idea of the sailor’s whereabouts at this time, another letter was addressed in care of the captain of the old ship, in the hope that it would finally reach the sailor friend. This done he went to his room and for hours slept the sleep of one who has won and who has an easy conscience by reason of having gained a victory by doing his full duty.