III
THE WEDDING OF JASON LEE
1837
AGAIN a salute resounded at the gates of Fort Vancouver.
"Who the devil's come at this time o' night? "grumbled the sleepy fur-traders, turning on their couches. The porter crawled out of his lodge in his nightcap. To the impatient knockers outside a heavy step sounded and a gruff voice demanded, "Who's there?"
"Strangers from the States on the brig 'Diana.'"
The great key turned, the gate swung creaking on its hinges. This time several men entered, with their wives, followed by three fair damsels half revealed by the light of the moon. The old porter led the shadowy figures up to McLoughlin's door.
"Who is it?" inquired the doctor, in dressing-gown and moccasins, holding a candle above his head. The white locks framed an almost youthful face as he leaned, peering into the night.
"A reinforcement to Jason Lee's mission," answered the spokesman of the party.
"More missionaries?" laughed the doctor. "Well, well, surely we'll all get converted by and by. Come in, come in." He took each hand with the grasp of a friend, and turning led into the great dining hall, where a log still smouldered on the hearth.
