xpression changed to a momentary glance of
anxiety, for the shingles on the roof rattled, and the rafters creaked
as if the hut were groaning under the strain. It passed, however, and
the pair went on smoking with placid contentment, for they had but
recently had a "square" meal of pemmican and flour.

This compost when cooked in a frying-pan is exceedingly rich and
satisfying--not to say heavy--food, but it does not incommode such as La
Certe and his wife. It even made the latter feel amiably disposed to
Cloudbrow.

This _sobriquet_ had been given by the half-breeds to a young Scotch
settler named Duncan McKay, in consequence of the dark frown which had
settled habitually on his brow--the result of bad temper and unbridled
passion. He was younger brother to that Fergus who has already been
introduced to the reader. Having been partially trained, while in
Scotland, away from the small farm-house of his father, and having
received a better education, Duncan conceived himself to stand on a
higher level than the sedate and uneducated Fergus. Thus pride was
added to his bad temper. But he was not altogether destitute of good
points. What man is? One of these was a certain reckless
open-handedness, so that he was easily imposed on by the protestations
and assurances of the sly, plausible, and lazy La Certe.

The couple were still engaged in smoking, quaffing tea, and other
intellectual pursuits, when they heard sounds outside as of some one
approaching. Another moment, and the door burst open, and a man in
white stepped in. He saluted them with a familiar and hasty
"_bonjour_," as he stamped and beat the snow vigorously from his
garments.

"What? Antoine Dechamp!" exclaimed La Certe, rising slowly to welcome
his friend; "you seem in hurry?"

"Ay--in great hurry! They are starving on the plains! Many are dead!
Davidson has come in! He is more than half-dead! Can hardly tell the
news! Drops asleep when he is speaking! Luckily I met him when going
home in my cariole! Okematan, the Indian, was with me. So he got out,
and said he would pilot Davidson safe home! He said something about
Fergus McKay, which I could not understand, so I have come on, and will
drive to Fort Garry with the news! But my horse has broke down! Is
yours in the stable?"

Dechamp was a sturdy young half-breed and an old playmate of La Certe.
He spoke with obvious impatience at the delay caused by having so much
to tell.

"Is y