Dreary enough were the next few days for the adventurous troop, as they wended their way westward. The sky was heavily clouded, while a gusty wind blew the pellety snow into the faces of the men and women as they walked or drove over their destined route. Drifts filled the sleigh tracks, and the packing of the road by those who took the lead was a weary business. Progress was slower than ever, accommodations along the line absent, and general camping again became a feature of the journey.

"What place have we here?" Sir George asked of his new driver on the evening of the fifth day from Montreal as they called a halt in the vicinity of two or three little cabins.

"They call it Sparksville," was the reply, "after a fellow named Sparks. He lives in the village of Hull across the river there. They say he bought it from the Government for a song, and has made his money out of sales already."

"So these shantymen are the owners," said the Colonel.

"No, siree, the lumbermen from Montreal bought from Sparks, these men only cut the timber."

"And splendid stuff they've got if these pieces are samples."

"You bet your last pound," returned the man, with the easy nonchalance of a westerner, "Montrealers wouldn't put their money into it if there wasn't a good chance of getting it out again. What's more, they say this is a splendid site for the building of a big city."

"Are these shanties the only buildings on this side of the river?" Sir George asked.

"Yes, 'cepting a little sawmill down in the hollow and a cabin beside it."

"Well, we'll camp here for to-night. They couldn't accommodate us in yonder village if we did cross."

And so the order was issued.

His men by this time were well accustomed to the oft-repeated duty. Putting up tents, cutting down trees, trimming poles, building temporary huts, flooring them with boughs of cedar, arranging timber and evergreens to protect the inmates from prevailing winds, and gathering dry wood for necessary fires, were matters of detail which they accomplished with alacrity. It was marvellous how neat and cozy a camp the two companies, assisted by the trained drivers, could build in an hour or two of twilight.

Sir George and the Doctor, leaving Cummings in the rig, joined Harold, who was helping his wife out of their sleigh.

"You are not ill, Mrs. Manning, I hope," exclaimed Sir George, who had never before seen her require so much assistance to alight.

"Just stiff and cold after the long drive," was her answer, as with a sudden effort she straightened herself.

"Madame tired long tam, no let 'em spak," said Emmiline, who on Bateese's example was learning to speak "Angleese quick." She was already attached to her new mistress.

"It is lucky to find houses here, such as they are," said Harold, as he folded Helen's fur coat more closely around her, while he noticed that her teeth were chattering.

"We'll try this shanty," said the Doctor, approaching one. A large dog jumped out as the door opened, barking vociferously, and followed a moment later by a half-breed Indian.

"We have a sick woman with us," said Beaumont, "and want to put her in your cabin for the night."

"No come ma shanty," replied the man, fixing himself squarely across the doorway. "Me trapper—live 'lone."

"Entre nous, mon ami, voila une femme tres malade," returned the Doctor in a more conciliatory tone, "et je vous donnera cinq francs."

"Arjent comptant porte medicine. Oui, oui, monsieur. Entre vous," returned the trapper, slipping to one side and allowing him to enter.

A fire was burning on a rude hearth at one end of the floorless shack, and the ground was packed hard everywhere but around the sloppy doorway. A wooden settle covered with skins stood at one side, while a couple of rough benches, together with a kettle or two, completed the outfit.

By the time the Doctor had made a cursory survey, Harold and Helen, followed by Emmiline, had joined him.

"Will you let me have the whole shanty for to-night if I pay you for it?" Harold asked.

The cunning eyes of the half-breed glanced rapidly over the whole party. Then he answered with a drawl, while he looked quizzically into the officer's face:

"Yah—pour, say five franc, s'il vous plait."

"Well, you shall have it."

"Pay me now."

"No," replied Harold. "I will give two now—the balance in the morning if you tell us all we need to know."

The half-breed shrugged his shoulders, but accepted the money and, after answering several questions, took his leave. Helen sat down on the bench by the fire, but her teeth still chattered, while her blue lips and contracted features indicated the severity of the chill.

"My dear, what can possibly be the matter?" Harold asked in much alarm.

"It is an attack of the ague," said the Doctor; in an aside: "Mon Dieu! it is too bad."

"Can nothing be done?" he asked again.

"Yes, and we'll do it at once. Peruvian bark and brandy are our sheet-anchors."

So he busily prepared a large dose of the medicine, which she washed down with half a glass of brandy and water.

"Fortunately the hut is new, and probably free from vermin," said the Doctor.

"It might be better for the women to sleep here," said Harold. "There will be room enough, and with the fire they can cook what is needed. What say you, Helen?"

"Divide the hut and stay with me. Then it will do," she replied. "We must have a man in the house, even though it is a shanty."

The bark and brandy were taking effect. The chills soon stopped and Helen felt warm again.

Later in the evening a cord was stretched across the long, narrow room, and quilts thrown over it to form a partition. Harold and his wife took possession of the end near the fire, while the three women improvised a bed for themselves in the other half.

"I hope we are not going to have a sick lady on our hands," said Sir George to the Doctor, after his final visit.

"I hope so, too," was the reply. "Ague is difficult to control when once established, but, taken at the start, it can be broken. Fortunately, this is her first attack. She will be better to-morrow."

"Perhaps we had better leave her for a day or two to rest and recuperate. I will speak to Manning about it. What say you?"

"Why not let to-morrow's report decide?" said the Doctor. "I could tell better after seeing her again."

To this the Colonel assented.

The spot chosen for the camp was well protected, the temperature mild for February, and all slept soundly. The bugle sounded at break of day and the whole camp was astir. It was unusual for the officers to rise as early as the men, but the keynote of Helen's illness roused them, and the first question put by each was concerning the condition of the patient.

Captain Cummings, with a crutch, was hobbling about for the first time, and insisted on swinging along with the Doctor to make inquiry.

The report was favorable. Helen had slept a little. The other women were up, and a good fire was burning.

"How is Madam now?" the Doctor asked of Harold.

"Her head is still aching. You had better see her."

So he led the way behind the screen.

"What about resuming the journey?" he asked, after looking closely into her face.

"By rule, in the army, all must travel, and I have will enough to abide by it," she answered, wearily.

"There is no rule for you unless you are well able to follow it," he returned with a smile.

"But how could I possibly remain behind?"

"You might stay for a time at Hull, across the river."

"That won't do," she exclaimed, the tears starting. "I am better now, and can stand it very well. The worst is that my ears buzz and my head aches, but when out in the air again these will pass away."

"Don't be alarmed about the ears," said the Doctor, cheerily; "that comes from the medicine I gave to stop the chill."

Turning to Harold he had a brief conference with him.

"I have a plan that might answer," he suggested.

"Sir George will do anything that is necessary," returned Harold.

"Well, it is this. The newest sled will hold four people. We can retain it here with the best team. Madam can lie where she is until noon. Then you and I and the driver will remain with her and, starting early in the afternoon, overtake the troops by night."

"Will our separation from the men be safe?" Harold asked.

"Perfectly, monsieur," was the reply. "We might meet a few Indians, but they are all our allies."

"How do you like the plan?" Harold asked of his wife.

"Very well, if you are sure we can overtake the men by night," was her answer, as she closed her eves again.

"Madam, it shall be done," said the Doctor, and he went out to complete arrangements.

"I hope you have a good report," said Cummings, who was still waiting. Harold told him and then sought the Colonel.

"The idea is an excellent one," said the latter. "Some of our baggage sleighs will also be delayed, for I've given orders to purchase an extra supply of feed for the horses at Hull. Of course during the summer the order is to supply us by the boats on the lakes—all right if the war is over, or if we whip the Yankees—but the other way if they beat us."

Some of the officers were nonplussed. Soldier-like, not bearing responsibility, they had never given the matter a thought, and the suggestion opened up a new difficulty.

"Don't take the thing too seriously, my men," Sir George finally exclaimed with a laugh. "It will come out all right, as everything does with the British soldier whichever way it goes. But I want to take a look at the river from yonder crest for a minute or two while we have time."

"Well!" he exclaimed again, as he cast his eye upon the hamlet on the other side of the Ottawa. "This is the first time I have ever marched by a town and camped outside."

"Why not change the name Sparksville[1] to Bytown, and give that as your reason, sir," suggested Smith.

"Not so bad," replied the Colonel briskly. "A garrison town could be built here, with fortifications, and this dashing river at our feet—providing Hull were in the hands of an enemy."

"Which can never be," put in the Doctor, "unless the French cut loose from the British and the Ottawa divides them."

"In that case we'd build a citadel," said Captain Payne, "and change Smith's Bytown to Out-away, as our command to the enemy."

"Which means," said Sir George, who was amused at the play upon words, "that we'd take the Hull of Ottawa."

"Sacre!" cried the Doctor with a flush, "that could never be. The Lower Province is stronger than the Upper one, and could beat it any day.

"Hoity, toity, man!" exclaimed the Colonel, elevating his eyebrows and smiling good-humoredly at the irate Anglo-Frenchman. "I should not think you would care exceedingly which way it went."

A general laugh followed, and the next moment the bugle sounded.