310 THE GREAT NORTH-WEST 



Highlands, imported by Sam Rankin, wine and spirit 

 merchant " !), for he was so firmly asleep that shouting 

 and back-slapping would not rouse him. The sort of 

 comments Sam Rankin made on this unconscious guest 

 must be imagined by the reader. I cannot repeat any 

 two consecutive words of it. 



I have said that the major was perched on three 

 chairs, but the only one of them that retained its back 

 was the one which supported Mr. Shadley's spinal 

 column. As name host wanted that particular chair for 

 my accommodation, and failed to convey that circum- 

 stance to the deadened brain of the sleeper, he at last 

 forcibly pulled it from under him. Down went the 

 major in a heap on the floor, and the shock having 

 aroused him, he gathered himself up, swearing horribly. 

 At sight of me he fairly staggered against the wall. 

 " Wai, I'm jiggered ! " he exclaimed. 



" Why, major, what is the meaning of this ? I thought 

 you meant to make for the south," I said. 



Without a word the major dropped on one of the 

 backless chairs and sobbed aloud. Hardly knowing 

 what to make of this conduct, I supposed he was crying- 

 drunk, and begged the host to bring some strong coffee. 



" If you only knowed what I've been through since I 

 saw you," howled the major. "You remember them 

 six-shooters ? Two of the loveliest barkers that was 

 ever belted ! " 



"To be sure I do," I replied, noticing now that the 

 major was no longer armed ; " the splendid weapons with 

 which you flicked the dog's nose." 



" Oh ! cheese that ; don't joke on a poor varmint in 



distress. They're gone, Mr. Fountain ; gone by to three 



of the dirtiest, sneaking cut-throats that ever went un- 

 lynched," and the major swore till he exhausted himself. 



It flashed on me in an instant that the three rascals 

 who had overtaken and robbed me four days previously 

 had a brace of six-shooters in their possession that at the 



