Page:McLoughlin and Old Oregon.djvu/39

 "Be seated; be seated." The doctor rummaged around, poking the log with his cane, and pushing up a settee. "Burris, Burris! "he called from an adjoining door. In short order the major-domo appeared with candles, that cast weird flickers against the windows and the high dark ceiling.

"And so Congress is still discussing that Maine boundary? "Dr. McLoughlin was saying, when the butler reappeared with a steaming tray. A dusky Kanaka (Hawaiian) poured the tea, while Burris retired to pile Indian blankets on the bunk-like beds of the fort.

Before daylight Dr. McLoughlin called, "Money-coon!" An Indian rolled out of his blanket in the barracks.

"Get the despatch-boat. Take these papers to Jason Lee at the mission as quick as you can."

The Indian disappeared. There was a click at the boat-house door, a gleam on the river. Forty-eight hours later McLoughlin, glass in hand, descried two canoes laboring up the billowy Columbia in a tempest of wind. "See, he even comes in a storm!"

All turned to banter the maiden who now was to behold her future husband. Through all that voyage Anna Maria Pitman had kept saying to herself, "I may not marry him; I may not marry him."

The little company sat with Dr. McLoughlin in a room facing the gate, when it swung back, and a tall, broad-shouldered man past thirty approached at the rate of seventy-five strides a minute. "See the conquering hero comes," whispered the teasing companions.

Anna Maria raised her eyes, and at a glance took in the Yankee make-up, the Puritan face with its long, light hair, spiritual eyes, and prominent nose. Any-