not quite prepared to give credit to this explanation; but being of a peaceful disposition, and altogether unaccustomed to retort, he merely smiled his disbelief, as he proceeded to lay aside his fowling-piece, and divest himself of the voluminous out-of-door trappings with which he was clad. Mr Hamilton was a tall, slender youth, of about nineteen. He had come out by the ship in autumn, and was spending his first winter at York Fort. Up to the period of his entering the Hudson’s Bay Company’s service, he had never been more than twenty miles from home, and having mingled little with the world, was somewhat unsophisticated, besides being by nature gentle and unassuming.
Soon after this the man who acted as cook, waiter, and butler to the mess, entered, and said that Mr Rogan desired to see the accountant immediately.
“Who am I to say did it?” inquired that gentleman, as he rose to obey the summons.
“Wouldn’t it be a disinterested piece of kindness if you were to say it was yourself?” suggested the doctor.
“Perhaps it would, but I won’t,” replied the accountant, as he made his exit.
In about half an hour Mr Rogan and the accountant re-entered the apartment. The former had quite regained his composure. He was naturally amiable; which happy disposition was indicated by a habitually cheerful look and smile.
“Now, gentlemen,” said he, “I find that this practical joke was not intended for me, and therefore look upon it as an unlucky accident; but I cannot too strongly express my dislike to practical jokes of all kinds. I have seen great evil, and some bloodshed, result from practical jokes; and I think that, being a sufferer in consequence of your fondness for them, I have a right to beg that you will abstain from such doings in future—at least from such jokes as involve risk to those who do not choose to enter into them.”
Having given vent to this speech, Mr Rogan left his volatile friends to digest it at their leisure.
“Serves us right,” said the skipper, pacing up and down the room in a repentant frame of mind, with his thumbs hooked into the arm-holes of his vest.
The doctor said nothing, but breathed hard and smoked vigorously.
While we admit most thoroughly with Mr Rogan that practical jokes are exceedingly bad, and productive frequently of far more evil than fun, we feel it our duty, as a faithful delineator of manners, customs, and character in these regions, to urge in palliation of the offence committed by the young gentlemen at York Fort, that they had really about as few amusements and sources of excitement as fall to the lot of any class of men. They were entirely dependent on their own unaided exertions, during eight or nine months of the year, for amusement or recreation of any kind. Their books were few in number, and soon read through. The desolate wilderness around afforded no incidents to form subjects of conversation further than the events of a day’s shooting, which, being nearly similar every day, soon lost all interest. No newspapers came to tell of the doings of the busy world from which they were shut out, and nothing occurred to vary the dull routine of their life; so that it is not matter for wonder that they were driven to seek for relaxation and excitement occasionally in most outrageous and unnatural ways, and to indulge now and then in the perpetration of a practical joke.
For some time after the rebuke administered by Mr Rogan, silence reigned in Bachelor’s Hall, as the clerks’ house was termed. But at length symptoms of ennui began to be displayed. The doctor yawned, and lay down on his bed to enjoy an American newspaper about twelve months old. Harry Somerville sat down to re-read a volume of Franklin’s travels in the polar regions, which he had perused twice already. Mr Hamilton busied himself in cleaning his fowling-piece; while the skipper conversed with Mr Wilson, who was engaged in his room in adjusting an ivory head to a walking-stick. Mr Wilson was a jack-of-all-trades, who could make shift, one way or other, to do anything. The accountant paced the uncarpeted floor in deep contemplation.
At length he paused, and looked at Harry Somerville for some time.
“What say you to a walk through the woods to North River, Harry?”
“Ready,” cried Harry, tossing down the book with a look of contempt—“ready for anything.”
“Will you come, Hamilton?” added the accountant. Hamilton looked up in surprise.
“You don’t mean, surely, to take so long a walk in the dark, do you? It is snowing, too, very heavily, and I think you said that North River was five miles off, did you not?”
“Of course I mean to walk in the dark,” replied the accountant, “unless you can extemporise an artificial light for the occasion, or prevail on the moon to come out for my special benefit. As to snowing, and a short tramp of five miles, why, the sooner you get to think of such things as trifles the better, if you hope to be fit for anything in this country.”
“I don’t think much of them,” replied Hamilton, softly, and with a slight smile; “I only meant that such a walk was not very attractive so late in the evening.”
“Attractive!” shouted Harry Somerville from his bedroom, where he was equipping himself for the walk; “what can be more attractive than a sharp run of ten miles through the woods on a cool night to visit your traps, with the prospect of a silver fox or a wolf at the end of it, and an extra sound sleep as the result? Come, man, don’t be soft; get ready, and go along with us.”
“Besides,” added the accountant, “I don’t mean to come back to-night. To-morrow, you know, is a holiday, so we can camp out in the snow after visiting the traps, have our supper, and start early in the morning to search for ptarmigan.”
“Well, I will go,” said Hamilton, after this account of the pleasures that were to be expected; “I am exceedingly anxious to learn to shoot birds on the wing.”
“Bless me! have you not learned that yet?” asked the doctor, in affected surprise, as he sauntered out of his bedroom to relight his pipe.
The various bedrooms in the clerks’ house were ranged round the hall, having doors that opened directly into it, so that conversation carried on in a loud voice was heard in all the rooms at once, and was not unfrequently sustained in elevated tones from different apartments, when the occupants were lounging, as they often did of an evening, in their beds.
“No,” said Hamilton, in reply to the doctor’s question, “I have not learned yet, although there were a great many grouse in the part of Scotland where I was brought up. But my aunt, with whom I lived, was so fearful of my shooting either myself or some one else, and had such an aversion to firearms, that I determined to make her mind easy, by promising that I would never use them so long as I remained under her roof.”
“Quite right; very dutiful and proper,” said the doctor, with a grave, patronising air.
“Perhaps you’ll fall in with more fox tracks of the same sort as the one you gave chase to this morning,” shouted the skipper, from Wilson’s room.
“Oh! there’s hundreds of them out there,” said the accountant; “so let’s off at once.”
The trio now proceeded to equip themselves for the walk. Their costumes were peculiar, and merit description. As they were similar in the chief points, it will suffice to describe that of our friend Harry.
On his head he wore a fur cap made of otter-skin, with a flap on each side to cover the ears, the frost being so intense in these climates that without some such protection they would inevitably freeze and fall off.
As the nose is constantly in use for the purposes of respiration, it is always left uncovered to fight with the cold as it best can; but it is a hard battle, and there is no doubt that, if it were possible, a nasal covering would be extremely pleasant. Indeed, several desperate efforts have been made to construct some sort of nose-bag, but hitherto without success, owing to the uncomfortable fact that the breath issuing from that organ immediately freezes, and converts the covering into a bag of snow or ice, which is not agreeable. Round his neck Harry wound a thick shawl of such portentous dimensions that it entirely enveloped the neck and lower part of the face; thus