Frontier and pioneer life -- Québec (Province) -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Short stories
cuddled down beside me and would not give over licking my hands and
face for very joy. I should be ashamed to tell it, but, sir, a good dog
is better than a false friend, and Collie was a most faithful beast.
After that I slept with confidence, and it was good daylight when I
awoke, cold and stiff with my first and last night’s rest in the woods,
but refreshed and confident. I would not touch more of my cakes, for
I wanted them for my husband, so, thanking God for preserving me so
far, I went on my way, baby crowing at the sight of Collie, as he
gamboled around us with yelps. Marking as well as I could from the
way his rays fell, where the sun rose, I went north, for I knew that
in that direction I would soon come across the Outarde. Sure enough,
I had not gone a quarter of a mile, when I came upon it, flowing red
and full, for it was high water. Knowing I was safe, and that I would
quickly come upon one of the settlers by its banks, I hurried on in
great spirits, and came out on John Hughes’ clearing, and was speedily
seated by their blazing log fire at breakfast. My troubles were now
over, and I saw that, instead of going north, I had wandered to the
east. A little boy went with me to Strachan’s, where I crossed the
Chateaugay, and resuming my walk got to the house, near Ste Martine,
where my husband lay, in the afternoon. It was well I went, for his
hurt had brought on a slight fever, and though the habitant’s family
were kind, they could not nurse him as I did. These were anxious but
happy days, for William was overjoyed to have me beside him, and I was
glad to be of service to him. In ten days Dr Syme told me he would bear
the journey, and getting a cast in one of Reeves’s canoes as far as
the Portage, we were safe back in our own house before night, to find
everything better than we expected. It was a drawback William’s arm,
for it was some time before he could do hard work with it, but we got
over that and many another backset, and, if we are now well-to-do, we
earned all we’ve got.
AN INCIDENT OF HUNTINGDON FAIR.
A LOST CHILD.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account