CHAPTER V

THE SELKIRK SETTLERS

I meet a friend. We follow the Cavalry and Infantry to Vernon River and shop there. We recall the lot-drawing contest, meet two “flats,” and visit Belfast. We think of Selkirk, and of the election riot; wander through the Polly cemetery; and meet Point Prim's oldest inhabitant.

Y solitary wanderings were over. I found a

friend in Charlottetown who was not only

willing but also highly delighted at the thought of the proposed trip; but my means of locomotion did not suit her at all, at all.

“We could go twice as fast on bikes, ” she observed.

“What’s the point in going fast?” I argued. ”We have all summer ahead of us. Besides, we don’t get any lifts if we go on bikes.”

The argument wore on—and wore out.

Jean won.

We bought two second-hand bicycles and started off. At least she started off.

“Send me a card when you get there?” I shouted.

Her speed decreased suddenly.

For almost five minutes we cycled along together. Then, gradually, the space between us widened again. Soon she was a mere speck on wheels flying around a corner.

When I eventually turned that corner I found her comfortably seated by the roadside, waiting for me.

Events had made me determined.

“ It’s your turn for Palsy Walsy,” I insisted. ”Give me Queen Mary.”

92