Page:The Pacific Monthly volumes 1-3.djvu/54



A striking figure in those early days at Fort Vancouver was James Douglas, the close companion and trusted friend of Dr. McLoughlin, and his opposite in every respect save one. One attribute they had in equal measure, courage, indomitable courage, a high-born fearlessness, that held them always true to the nobler con- ceptions of life and to the great interests and responsibilities placed in their hands. Among the many lasting friendships that grew up between man and man on the rugged frontier there is none more sug- gestive of romance than this loyal affec- tion of two strong natures, mutually at- tracted and indissolubly bound together by their very differences.

It was while Dr. McLoughlin was sta- tioned at Fort William, on Lake Superior, that James Douglas, then a youth of 17 years, was sent out by the Hudson's Bay Company to join him. A Douglas from Scotland — heroic associations clus- ter about the name, a gentleman by birth and breeding, with the manners of the court, brought to grace the lonely life at that isolated trading post in the track- less wilderness. It is not surprising that Dr. McLoughlin's heart warmed toward the boy from the first, and that he grew to love and regard him as a younger brother. In all the years that followed, with their changing, shifting scenes, James Douglas stood closer to the great head of the great company than any other living soul.

There was a grandeur about Dr. Mc- Loughlin, a certain broad-mindedness, a large and liberal comprehension not only of his own time and its tendencies, but of the future, which Douglas lacked. The latter possessed resolution of char- acter, a stern devotion to duty and was severely methodical in habit, but his air of lofty reserve was in decided contrast to the genial frankness and open man- ner of the governor.

There were other interesting charac- ters at Fort Vancouver in that day, not-

ably Peter Skeen Ogden, son of the chief justice of Quebec, and a successful trad- er. He was the recognized wit of that by no means stupid company, and his gay good nature went far toward com- pensating for an evident lack of culture. There was Frank Ermatinger, also a good trader, and nicknamed "Bardolph," on account of certain habits he had. And Thomas McKay, famous for his ability to tell a story and to tell it entertain- ingly. A rare nature, that of young Mc- Kay, a strange mixture of Indian and white, of savagery and refinement. He seemed to have inherited the best traits of both races. From his beautiful Ojib- way mother he no doubt derived his deep love of nature, and an understanding of her manifold mysteries. The woods, the water, the towering hills and the vaulted sky were to him as the printed pages of a are to other men, wherein he read the signs and secrets of the changing sea- sons and interpreted them for his com- panions. His father, lost on the ill- fated Tonquin, bequeathed to him cer- tain civilized tastes and inclinations. He was half white and all Indian. Much given was he, in after years, to brood- ing over the tragic ending of his father's life. At such periods of gloomy reflec- tion he was silent, unapproachable. He had more than once been heard to vow a terrible and bloody vengeance upon the guilty tribe, but though he was not deficient in courage, the white blood in his veins held him passive.

He was tall and straight and strong, as most men were in those days. There was little of the Indian apparent in his face, save the smoldering fire in his mid- night eyes. A handsome man, as many of mixed-blood are, and a man to be trust- ed, as Dr. McLoughlin well knew. His mother, the widow of Thomas McKay, became the lawful wife of the governor, and he himself married first a Chinook woman, the mother of William McKay, of Pendleton, and after her death the daughter of Montoure, the confidential clerk of the company. The son of this second union was the famous scout, Don- ald McKay, of whom more will be told later.