going to do to me?' he sobbed. 'Oh, I wish I'd never
gone near the fort! How can father find out where I am?'

How, indeed, was the question. Mr. Macrae had many things to engross
his attention, and Mrs. Macrae was so used to Hector's roaming about on
his own account, that she would not be apt to miss him until sundown.
As it fell out, it was from a most unlooked-for source that the clue
came. Having made the best arrangements they could for shelter, and
these were very scant at best, the settlers gathered together for their
evening meal. Then did the mother-heart of Mrs. Macrae begin to feel
concerned for her son. 'Where is Hector?' she asked her husband. 'I
have na seen him these many hours. Was he no with you?'

'He was no with me at all,' answered Mr. Macrae, turning his keen
glance in every direction. 'He went aff with the twa dogs a gude while
ago, and I didna see just which way he went.'

'God grant he's na got into any harm!' sighed Mrs. Macrae. ''Tis a
strange place this, and there's na tellin' what may happen to the
laddie.'

'Oh, he's a' richt,' responded her husband, cheerfully. 'He'll be
wanting his bannocks, and that'll bring him back soon.'

But when night fell, and still no sign of Hector, the Macraes grew very
anxious. Andrew set out to make enquiries, and went through the party
of settlers, asking if any of them had seen the boy since mid-day.
Several of them had noticed him strolling about, accompanied by the
dogs, but no one could say definitely in what direction he had gone.

When the mystery was at its height, and the whole party was aroused to
concern for the missing boy, suddenly Dour appeared, and rushed up to
Mr. Macrae, barking joyfully. The remains of a raw-hide thong, which
he had bitten through close to his body, hung about his neck, and, with
all the means of expression at the command of the most sagacious of his
kind, he strove to tell his story.

'Gude dog! Gude dog!' murmured Mr. Macrae, patting the clever creature
fondly. 'There's been ill wark, nae doot. Come with me, friends, an'
we'll sift it to the verra bottom.'

Slipping pistols into their pockets, for there was no telling what
might happen, half-a-dozen of the men signified their readiness to
accompany Mr. Macrae in the search for his son. They were stalwart,
stern-looking men, with shaggy faces, and piercing, fearless eyes--not
the men to be trifled with by any one, and now deeply intent upon their
pu