A Man of Two Countries

								

"You are here, Phil," came the quick answer from the Southerner, with
his old, appealing charm of voice and smile.
Night fell as they surveyed the scene. The freighters had built
camp-fires and the flare lighted the scene weirdly as they walked toward
Burroughs' trading-post. Latimer greeted all as comrades, even the
officers in mufti, and Danvers, seeing the responsive smiles, realized
how a sunny nature receives what it sheds.
"Whose outfit came in with Charlie's?" inquired Danvers, as they neared
the store.
"The mule teams? Oh, that was McDevitt--an odd character, from all I
hear; Charlie gave me his version on the way up."
Danvers waited for the narrator to continue.
"He is what they call a missionary-trader--though evidently there is
little difference in the varieties in this country. He's supposed,
however, to be an example to the Indians, and to furnish them with
material supplies, as well as spiritual food."
As they entered Burroughs' store, the trader met them cordially.
"Glad to see yeh, Latimer," he said, grasping the outstretched hands. "I
'spose yeh've seen that pretty Miss Thornhill every day since we left
Fort Benton," he went on. "That's a girl for yeh!"
Danvers felt his face change. He had not yet ventured to broach Miss
Thornhill's name. This loud mention of her in the rough crowd was
unbearable.
Latimer made a vague reply. He sympathized with Danvers' involuntary
stiffening.
"Well, glad to see yeh!" repeated Burroughs, after more questions and
answers. "Make yerself to home. Guess yer glad to see yer friend," he
said, turning to Danvers. "Yeh ain't seemed to take up with any of us
fellers," and he passed on to other arrivals.
It was not long before McDevitt entered, having come, evidently, to
provoke a quarrel with Burroughs. While argument waxed hot between the
rival traders over the respective shipping points for furs and the
tariff on buffalo robes, Danvers and Latimer looked around the long
building lined with cotton sheeting not yet stained or grimed. Blankets,
beads, bright cloth, guns, bright ribbons, scalping-knives, shot, powder
and flints (the Indians had not seen many matches), stood out against
the light background. The bizarre effect was heightened by the garb of
the men. Suits of buckskin, gay sashes, blankets and buffalo robes
decked traders, scouts or Indians, as the case might be, while the
trooper costume--red tunics, tiny forage caps, and blue trousers with
yellow stripes--accentuated the riot of color. A few bales of furs, of
little value, were on the high counters. In the warehouse in the rear,
however, hanging from unhewn beams or piled in heaps, were buffalo robes
and skins of all the fur-bearing animals, awaiting shipment to Fort
Benton.
The babel of tongues grew louder. Burroughs' quick temper suffered from
McDevitt's repeated assertion that Americans were ruining the fur trade
by paying the Indians more than the Canadian traders.