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Fort Desolation: Red Indians And Fur Traders Of Rupert’s Land
by
O’Donel shook his head. “Ah, they’re a bad lot, sur–but sorrow wan o’ them was iver so ugly as him!”
He concluded this remark by pointing over his shoulder with his thumb in the direction of the house where the new clerk lay, a hideous, though not severely injured, spectacle, on his bed.
A last “farewell” floated over the water, as the boat passed round a point of land. Jack waved his hand, and, a moment later, Fort Desolation vanished from his eyes for ever.
Readers, it is not our purpose here to detail to you the life and adventures of Jack Robinson.
We have recalled and recounted this brief passage in his eventful history, in order to give you some idea of what “outskirters,” and wandering stars of humanity sometimes see, and say, and go through.
Doubtless Jack’s future career would interest you, for his was a nature that could not be easily subdued. Difficulties had the effect of stirring him up to more resolute exertions. Opposition had the effect of drawing him on, instead of keeping him back. “Cold water” warmed him. “Wet blankets,” when thrown on him, were dried and made hot! His energy was untiring, his zeal red hot, and when one effort failed, he began another with as much fervour as if it were the first he had ever made.
Yet Jack Robinson did not succeed in life. It would be difficult to say why. Perhaps his zeal and energy were frittered away on too many objects. Perhaps, if he had confined himself to one purpose and object in life, he would have been a great man. Yet no one could say that he was given to change, until change was forced upon him. Perchance want of judgment was the cause of all his misfortunes; yet he was a clever fellow: cleverer than the average of men. It may be that Jack’s self-reliance had something to do with it, and that he was too apt to trust to his own strength and wisdom, forgetting that there is One, without whose blessing man’s powers can accomplish no good whatever. We know not. We do not charge Jack with this, yet this is by no means an uncommon sin, if we are to believe the confessions of multitudes of good men.
Be this as it may, Jack arrived at Fort Kamenistaquoia in due course, and kindly, but firmly, refused to take part with his sanguine friend, J Murray, who proposed–to use his own language–“the getting-up of a great joint-stock company, to buy up all the sawmills on the Ottawa!”
Thereafter, Jack went to Quebec, where he was joined by Teddy O’Donel, with whom he found his way to the outskirt settlements of the far west. There, having purchased two horses and two rifles, he mounted his steed, and, followed by his man, galloped away into the prairie to seek his fortune.