icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

The Prospector

Chapter 7 THE OUTPOST

Word Count: 3001    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

ich, under able statesmanship, was seeking to hold the new West for things high and good. The Big River people were proud of their manse. The minister was proud of it, and w

le and minister, Convener and Superintendent, the little manse meant so much, the bareness, the unloveliness, and, more than all, the utter loneliness of it smote Shock with a sense of depression. At fi

h a house as this," was his tho

that gaped at it from every side. The contrast between this bare speck of human habitation and the cosy homes of his native Province, set each within its sheltering nest of orchard and garden, could hardly, have be

ound himself picturing how the light from those great peaks would

iture though chiefly interesting as an illustration of the evolution of the packing box, was none the less serviceable and comfortable. The floors were as yet uncarpeted, but now that April was come the carpets were hardly missed. Then, too, the few choice pictures upon the walls, the ingenious bookcase and the more ingenious plate and cup-rack displaying honest delf and some bits of choice china, the draping curtains of muslin and cretonne, all spoke of cultivated minds and refined tastes. Staring wan

, that sent David McIntyre out from his quiet country home in Nova Scotia to the far West. A brilliant course in Pictou Academy, that nursing mother of genius for that Province by the sea, a still more brilliant course in Dalhousie, and afterwards in Pine Hill, promised young McIntyre anything he

essor, "there is no need for such

stic of the man wa

d besides that seems to me great wor

gretting his choice, and then not for his own sake, but for the sake of the young girl whom he had learned to love and whose love he had gained during his student days. Would she leave home and friends and the social circle of which she was the brightest ornament for all that he could offer? He had often written to her, picturing in the radiant colours of his own Western sky the glory of prairie, foot-hill, and mountain, the greatness and promi

ife. But whether you will share it, it is for you to decide. If you feel you cannot, believe me, I shall not blame you, but shall love and honour you as befo

his in a sunny coolie where an old creek-bed was marked by straggling willows

ck from his work? Besides, you have taught me too well to love your glorious West, and you cannot daunt me now by any such sombre picture as you drew for me in your last letter. No sir. The West for me! And you should be ashamed-

ondered at the new splendour of the day, the sweetness of the air, the mellow music o

l! She doesn't know, and yet, even if she d

nd's tone as he said, "My wife, Mr. Macgregor," the tenderness and pride. It made Shock's heart quiver, for there came to him the picture of a tall girl with wonderful dark grey eyes that looked straight into his while she

and welcomed him with a welcome of one who had

er Shock's field. A rough map, showing trails, streams, sloughs, co

of your field, where it is best that you should live, if you can; and then further away up toward the Pass they tell me there is a queer kind of ungodl

ng, eh?" s

strict. Afternoon teas, hunts, tennis, card-parties, and dancing parties make life one gay whirl for them. Mind you, I'm not saying a word against them. In this country anything clean in the way of sport

lice? I have heard them we

There's Sergeant Crisp, now-there is not money enough in the Territories to buy him. Why, he was offered six hundred dollars not long ago to be busy at the other end of the town when the freighters came in one night. But not he. He was on duty, with the result that some half dozen kegs of whisky failed to reach their intend

ke, a Roma

ss regard me as a blooming dissenter, dontcherknow. But he is no such snob. He goe

ing?" asked

y don't mind it much. They swear by him, for he is really a fine fellow. In sickness or in trouble

mission there at al

ch. It doesn't take much you know, to keep a man from going to church in this country, so the Superintendent's policy is to remove all possible excuses and barriers and to make it easy for men to give themselves a chance. Our pr

Macfarren o

country. I'll give you a letter to him. He wil

hock's face was a study. McI

chap that is willing to help in any way. We use him as usher, manager, c

. The situation was beco

uch. By all odds the most interesting figure there is the

k bo

. Then, there's Andy Hepburn, who runs a store, a shrewd, canny little Scot. I have no doubt he will help you. But you'll kno

wild, reckless life of theirs? What had he to bring them. Only a Tale? In the face of that vigorous, strenuous life it seemed at that moment to Shock almost ridiculous in its inadequacy. Against him and his Story were arra

books, as they s

d Shock, coming out of

t been our dwelling place," and so on to the last cry of frail and fading humanity after the enduring and imperishable, "Let the be

but following hard upon the fear came the memory of the abiding dwelling place for all desert pilgrims, and in place of his terror a great quietness fell upon his spirit. The gaunt spectre of the hungry wilderness vanished before the kindly presence of a great Companionship that m

d his wife, who had bee

hat haunting terror of the unknown and that disturbing sense of his own insufficiency would not trouble him. That dwelling place, quiet and secure, of the McInt

ed for the night, "I'm afraid he'll find it hard work, esp

est eyes," said his w

yo

she replied

d, "in spite of all app

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open