"FIFTY-FOUR FORTY OR FIGHT" 325
Ermatinger, the jolly Ermatinger, staggered from the door, white as a man in ague. Too well he understood " the terms of our service, sir." He felt it was a coldblooded act to separate him from his wife because of some pique at McLoughlin. Too well he knew the military system that bound any man that accepted a commission to hold himself in readiness to starve in Labrador or freeze at the north pole. But this
"Curse it! Why did I not take Catharine with me and dig like a dog in England? There, at least, the laborer has his home."
Well he knew the heart-break of that disappointed wife, well he knew the weary distance and the danger should she try to reach him. She could not even learn of the change until the November mail packet. Then the waiting till the next brigade in March, the mountains, the rapids, and a babe in arms in anguish as never before Ermatinger felt the iron of the great monopoly.
"Perhaps Sir George has no personal feeling in the matter," thought Ermatinger; "it is the factor's duty to obey, but "like a sheath-cut came the conclusion "neither I nor any one at Vancouver can ever believe it is anything less than premeditated cussedness."
Some of his comrades tried to rally him. "Don't give up the beaver so, Erma."
"Now you can amuse yourself talking Chinook with the Chippeways."
"Or joking with the Assiniboins."
But none of these sallies could rouse the sad spirit of the prostrate Ermatinger.
"Men!" exclaimed Ermatinger, bitterly. "Men are of trifling value provided he gets furs. Wives! Wives
