Such an one was old Frank Kennedy, who, sixty years before the date
of our story, ran away from school in Scotland; got a severe
thrashing from his father for so doing; and having no mother in whose
sympathising bosom he could weep out his sorrow, ran away from home,
went to sea, ran away from his ship while she lay at anchor in the
harbour of New York, and after leading a wandering, unsettled life
for several years, during which he had been alternately a clerk, a
day-labourer, a store-keeper and a village schoolmaster, he wound up
by entering the service of the Hudson's Bay Company, in which he
obtained an insight into savage life, a comfortable fortune, besides
a half-breed wife and a large family.
Being a man of great energy and courage, and moreover possessed of a
large, powerful frame, he was sent to one of the most distant posts
on the Mackenzie River, as being admirably suited for the display of
his powers both mental and physical. Here the small-pox broke out
among the natives, and besides carrying off hundreds of these poor
creatures, robbed Mr. Kennedy of all his children save two, Charles
and Kate, whom we have already introduced to the reader.
About the same time the council which is annually held at Red River
in spring for the purpose of arranging the affairs of the country for
the ensuing year thought proper to appoint Mr. Kennedy to a still
more outlandish part of the country--as near, in fact, to the North
Pole as it was possible for mortal man to live--and sent him an order
to proceed to his destination without loss of time.
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