Two hours passed before the man showed signs of returning consciousness. Then the keen wind which blew across his face, as he lay extended on the ground, caused a tremor to pass through his body, and opening his eyes he endeavoured to sit up, but at first the pain which the effort inflicted was so great he lay for a time trying to collect thoughts which were confused and scattered. A second effort was attended with more success, when he proceeded to make a careful examination of his limbs, to ascertain what, if any, injury had been sustained. Satisfied with the result that no bones had been broken, yet suffering intensely from a sprained ankle and an injured knee-joint, which he found would prevent him standing, let alone attempting to walk, he realised that however desirous he might be of making progress, there was nothing for it but to remain where he was, with what fortitude he might be able to summon to his support. By dint of a little exertion he managed to crawl on to the bank at the side of the track, and there, against the trunk of a large oak, he prepared to make the best of his position, in the hope that help of some kind would sooner or later turn up. He had lain there some time—dozing between whiles—when he became conscious of sounds as of the distant grind of heavy wheels, and the slow measured tread of horses’ feet. Listening intently, he soon made it out to be a waggon-team, which he judged to be from some neighbouring homestead, on its way to one of the stations,—M’Lean or Indian Head,—and, as subsequently proved to be the case, with produce to be railed on to Regina or Winnipeg. When within range of his voice, Barton had little difficulty in arresting the attention of the teamster, who, stopping his horses and dropping the reins, quickly dismounted, and, with lantern in hand made his way to the side of the track from whence the sounds proceeded. The position of affairs was explained, when, calling his companion to help him, they together lifted the all but helpless man into as comfortable a position as it was possible to make for him in the waggon, an operation which was only accomplished with considerable difficulty, seeing that nearly every inch of space was well occupied with farm produce of a marketable kind. Indian Head—his destination—was reached as daylight began to break, when, handing Barton over for the time being to some of the railway officials, he had just sufficient time left to get his load transferred to one of the empty trucks in waiting, before the whistle sounded and the heavily loaded train steamed out of the station on its way to Regina, distant about some forty miles farther. Having successfully accomplished the object he had in view, the waggoner—a farmer whose homestead was but a few miles off the rail—next proceeded to question Barton as to what was to be done with him.