Adventures in the Far West, W. H. G. Kingston [novels to improve english .txt] 📗

On arriving at the hut with our almost inanimate burden, we found the captain and Charlie in a state of great anxiety to know what had happened; for they had, I should have said, been undressed, and placed in our hosts’ beds, their wounds preventing them from putting on their clothes. The captain insisted on turning out when he saw the sad condition of Mark; and he moreover undertook to doctor him as well as he was able. It appeared evident, however, that as soon as possible Mark and Charley should be removed to the settlement, where they could obtain surgical aid. Mark in a short time revived. From the captain’s report, we had hopes that, on account of his fine constitution, he would escape inflammation, which was chiefly, under his circumstances, to be feared.

The Praegers had a light wagon, into which, soon after breakfast was over the next morning, we put our three wounded companions, and leaving Pierre and the Indians with Simon Praeger, we set off for Tillydrone. We would gladly have had another day’s rest, but the impossibility of obtaining medical assistance for poor Mark and Charley made us willing to undergo the fatigue.

The country was tolerably level, there being a fine open prairie, across which we rattled at a good speed, though the unavoidable jolting must have greatly tried our poor friends within. I was very thankful when Mark, looking out of the wagon, told us that we were approaching his father’s house. Our cavalcade must have been seen, for in a short time two horsemen came galloping up to us: the elder, a fine-looking, middle-aged man, Mark saluted as his father; the other as brother Peter. A few words explained what had happened. Mr Praeger immediately invited us all to his house, while Peter started off as fast as he could go to summon the doctor.

The house to which we were conducted was a picturesque, comfortable-looking building, constructed of wood, with a low pitched roof, and wide long verandah, up to which a flight of broad steps led us. We found a matronly-looking dame, with a bevy of young ones, standing in the verandah, evidently wondering at the number of guests Mr Praeger was bringing to the house. They were all activity on hearing the state of the occupants of the wagon, and hurried down the steps to assist in lifting in our wounded companions, for neither Charley nor Mark were able to walk. The captain, however, got up the steps by merely leaning on Mr Praeger’s arm.

In a few minutes all three were placed in bed, Mrs Praeger declaring that it was the only place fit for either of them, though her son was certainly the most hurt.

The young ladies were so busy during the evening, flitting about here and there, that I could scarcely tell how many there were of them. I remarked, however, that one was taller than the others, very fair, and with a graceful figure. When Armitage—who had remained out of sight, looking after the horses—came in, she was not in the room, and it was some time before she returned. When she did so, he rose to his feet, and regarded her earnestly, while the colour mounted to his cheek and brow; then he bowed, and stood apparently irresolute whether to advance or retreat. She started on seeing him and then put out her hand. He sprang across the room and took it.

“I little expected to have the happiness of seeing you, Miss Hargrave,” he said.

“Is it a happiness?” she asked, in a calm tone.

“Indeed it is,” he replied. “I heard that you had left England, but could not ascertain to what part of the world you had gone.”

What further passed between our friend and the young lady I cannot tell, as they lowered their voices, while they retired to a window at the other end of the room, Armitage forgetting all about his supper.

The ladies of the family, I should say, did not sit down to table, as they had already taken their evening meal, and insisted on waiting upon us.

Peter Praeger returned sooner than was expected with the doctor, whom he found on a visit to a family five or six miles off.

He gave a more favourable report of Dick and Charley than I expected, but young Mark, he said, would require the greatest possible care; a good constitution, however, he hoped, would enable him to pull through, though his hurts were of a most serious description.

I had no opportunity of speaking to Armitage before turning in, so I was unable to ascertain more about the young lady he had so unexpectedly met. The rest of the family were very nice and pretty girls, their manners much superior to what I had reasonably supposed would be found in the “Far West.”

Soon after breakfast the next morning, I saw Armitage and Miss Hargrave walking out together, he having asked her to show him a beautiful view she had spoken of at the other end of the estate. The rest of the young ladies being occupied, Story and I lit our pipes, and were sitting smoking them in the verandah, when we were joined by Mr Praeger.

“Your companion appears to be an old friend of my young relative,” he observed, as if apparently wishing to learn something about Armitage.

I replied that he was well known to Lieutenant Buntin, who spoke highly of him; and that he was evidently a man of some means, as we judged from his outfit and the number of his attendants, while we had found him a most excellent fellow in every respect.

“I’m glad to hear it, for the sake of my wife’s young cousin Ellen,” he answered. “She came out to us a few months ago, having lost her parents, and having no relatives for whom she cared in England. She had, however, very little idea of the rough style of life we are compelled to lead; but she at once got into our ways, though I observed what I could not account for, that she was often more melancholy than was consistent with her disposition. Now, however, I suspect the cause.”

I fully agreed with our out-spoken host. I soon found that we were not likely to learn anything of the interesting subject from Armitage himself, for he was remarkably reticent, and I saw that it would not do to banter him, or allude in any way to it.

I must pass over several days, during which the doctor as well as the ladies of the family were unremitting in their attentions to the wounded men. The captain was soon himself again, though still too weak to travel; but Charley’s wound took much longer to heal, and Mark was not likely to be on foot again for three or four weeks at soonest. In the meantime, Story and I, with our constant companion, Peter, rode over to the settlement to obtain the stores we required for our journey, as well as to replace our baggage mules.

While thus engaged, we found an old trapper also making purchases at the stores. He was tall and gaunt, his countenance weather beaten and sunburnt, of a ruddy brown hue, his hair—which hung over his shoulders—being only slightly grizzled, while his chin and face were smooth shaved. He was dressed in a hunting-frock of buckskin, and pantaloons of the same material ornamented down the seams with long fringes. On his feet he wore mocassins of Indian make; his head was covered by a neatly-made cap of beaver; an unusually large powder-horn was slung over his shoulders, together with a rifle, carefully covered up; while in his belt, in addition to a knife and tomahawk, he carried a