"Yes, yes, I know all about that," said the doctor. Finlayson was only eighteen. When Dr. McLoughlin saw the boy, cold, wet, and hungry, whose only crime was zeal in doing his duty, he spoke kindly, and turning to Douglas said, "You had better let him have a horse, James." Finlayson bowed his thanks and walked away. " A horse," cried Dr. McLoughlin after him, "a horse; but mind ye, no saddle; ye must furnish your own saddle."
Monday morning Finlayson selected a spirited horse and bought a good saddle with Mexican spurs and gay trappings. Saturday night came again. The dashing cavalier, seeing the gate open, reined his prancing steed within the palisade. "Who the devil is that daring to break the rules of the establishment by coming into the square in that fashion? "roared Dr. McLoughlin, levelling his spectacles.
"Roderick Finlayson, at your honor's service," answered the gay young clerk, reining up before the governor.
"Dismount, sir," cried the governor in a tone of thunder. "Do you suppose the court is a parade ground? Do you suppose we want half-broken colts in the presence of these women and children? This is a private square, sir, and not a public horseyard. Baptiste, take the horse. Young man, you may walk hereafter." So poor Finlayson had to wade through the mud the rest of the winter.
Discipline was strict at Fort Vancouver. In the semi-military life idleness was unknown. For weeks the Canadian voyageurs, laid up for the winter, thwacked with the flails in the barns, thrashing out the harvest of Canadian peas. All winter the ploughs followed the furrows. "Mind ye make them straight," said the
