him. "I see no
other way of preserving your life. Trust to me. I can at all events
carry you some distance before nightfall, we will then encamp, and
continue our journey to-morrow."

"I am not worth the exertion and trouble it must cause you," said the
man, gloomily. "The pain overcame me, and I would that the trunk itself
had fallen on me, and put me out of existence altogether."

"Nay, nay, my friend," answered Donald. "You should rather be thankful
to the merciful God who, though He has allowed you to suffer injury, has
preserved your life, that you may yet have an opportunity of devoting it
to His service."

"I do not comprehend your philosophy. I know that I have been suffering
unspeakable agony. I have nothing to be thankful for on that account,"
answered the man.

"We will not dispute the point now, my friend," said Donald. "But let
us make the best of our way to the township. This stout stick, which I
used as crowbar, will serve to support me as I walk. Now let me lift
you on my shoulders, and we will proceed on our journey."

Donald, on this, stooped down, and placed himself so that the stranger
could cling to his back, and with his heavy weight he made his way
through the forest.

He had not gone far, however, before he began to fear that he should
make but slow progress, even should he not be compelled to abandon his
intentions altogether, and to leave the unhappy sufferer by himself in
the forest. He staggered on till he reached a small stream, where he
could obtain water to quench the sufferer's burning thirst. He examined
also the injured limb--the bone did not appear to be broken, although
the flesh was fearfully bruised and discoloured.

The clay was already far advanced, and when in a short time he began to
feel the strain which had been put on his own muscles, he came to the
resolution of encamping where they were, and should no one appear, to
continue the journey the next day.

Having first bathed the sufferer's leg in the cold waters of the stream,
and bound it up as he best could, he commenced making preparations for
encamping, by cutting some spruce fir tops for a bed, collecting stakes
and slabs of birch bark to form a hut, and dry branches for a fire.
This did not take him long. He hurried through the work, for he wished
to shoot some birds or catch some fish for supper. Having lighted a
fire, he left his patient, suffering less apparently than before, and
went off up the