The North West Company exists because of hats, I learn soon enough — hats made from the exquisite soft inner fur of the beaver pelt, hats wealthy gentlemen across Europe are prepared to pay great sums of money to possess. Vast fortunes are to be made supplying this demand and the Nor’Westers, the men of the North West Company, work hard to ensure they belong to them and not their arch-enemy, the Hudson’s Bay Company.
By law, the Hudson’s Bay Company owns the vast inland sea they’ve taken their name from, and in an attempt to squeeze out the competition, the Bay men strictly prohibit the Nor’Westers from sailing into it. The move has outraged the North West Company who must travel twice as far overland as the Bay men because of it. The two companies are engaged in a vicious struggle for control of the fur trade, and violence between them, I discover, is not uncommon.
I learn this and many other things through the spring and summer. I’m taught how to organize a warehouse, value beaver, muskrat and mink skins. I study the Company’s map, committing to memory the names and locations of our far-flung trading posts.
The months pass slowly and as the maple and oak trees turn brilliant shades of orange and red, a wave of dismay sweeps over me. By mid-November I’ve managed to save barely half the money required for passage back to England, and when the last ship to England sails without me, I feel more helpless and alone than ever before. I’m stuck for at least another six months in Montreal, with no way to find my sister.
Winter arrives and brings with it cold and snow unlike anything I ever experienced in Scotland. Nevertheless, the huge snowdrifts that build up along the streets of Montreal are little more than curiosities. I waste precious little time on the weather. I work diligently, but shut in because of the cold, with little distraction, I find that one thought begins to trouble me: Libby, surrounded by soldiers on the dock while I hid in the boat.
“Coward” the soldier had called me. My shame grows by the day as the weight of that word bears down on me. Libby saved my life and in her greatest moment of need I abandoned her.
The winter crawls slowly along, and as the days pass, both my savings and optimism grow. Another two months, maybe three, and I’ll be able to go home. When I’m not working, finding my sister is all I can think about — until one rainy March morning when I’m called into Henry Mackenzie’s office.
To my great surprise the director of the North West Company is in the office, waiting to speak to me. “Thank you for coming so promptly, Duncan,” says McGillivray. “We’ve been most impressed with your work, and I have a proposition for you. How does a trip to Fort William for the Rendezvous sound?”
Almost two months away on the north shore of Lake Superior, Fort William is the Company’s inland headquarters. Early each summer, the Nor’Westers gather at the fort to make deals, establish policies and procedures and to socialize. I know it’s a privilege to be asked, but going to the Rendezvous is a dismal prospect. Going west means postponing my trip back to England by four months, maybe even five.
“Laird William, I’m honoured, but isn’t there someone more experienced?” I stammer.
McGillivray raises his eyebrow. “I hope you’re not refusing an assignment, lad. There’s a confidential letter I need delivered to Callum Mackay, the chief trader at Fort William. Aye, there are others who could do it, but the letter contains certain information about the security of our possessions in the West, and both the Company and the Crown need it delivered by someone trustworthy.
“I’ve been watching you,” McGillivray continues. “You’re bright, you always complete your tasks, and unlike some of the other lads, you keep your own counsel and avoid the temptations of the taverns. You’re just the person I need for this important mission.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I’m two short months away from returning to England and finding Libby. This “honour” is the last thing I need. “Thank ye, Sir,” I say, “but I’m not sure I’m the right person fer the job.”
McGillivray’s voice is soft, but there’s no mistaking the iron underneath. “If you’re not prepared to undertake this task I fear you’ll need to look for a position somewhere else, my lad. We value loyalty above all else in the North West Company, and your loyalty requires you to go to Fort William.”
McGillivray stands over me. “There’s also the issue of that trouble you found yourself in back in Britain,” he says. “Many ships travel between Canada and England, and they carry gossip as well as supplies. More than a few stories about a young Highlander fleeing the King’s justice on the Liverpool docks have reached these shores, stories about a young lad who looks just like you.”
“I’m not sure I know what yer talking about, Sir,” I say weakly.
McGillivray reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a familiar poster. “It came a few months after you arrived in Montreal. As far as I know it’s the only copy in Quebec. My agent on the waterfront was quick to bring it to me.”
My knees buckle and I nearly fall over when I stare at the poster. “The artist did a good job I have to say,” McGillivray adds. “The picture’s quite recognizable.”
“Sir, I …” Sweat pools on my face and I bow my head, unable to meet his gaze.
McGillivray carefully folds the poster and puts it back in the drawer. “As far as British justice is concerned, you’re not in Montreal, and your secret’s safe with me. That is of course if you’re willing to go to the Rendezvous. I have a confidential letter from the Colonial Office in London that must get to Fort William, and I need you to deliver it. Can I count on you, Duncan Scott? Can the Company count on you? We’re both from the Highlands after all, and Highlanders stick together. Don’t they?”
Trapped. I don’t have enough money to buy passage home, and if I’m fired from the North West Company, I’d be blacklisted, unlikely to find another job. And if Mr. McGillivray should talk to the commander of the British army garrison at Montreal? I feel an imaginary noose tighten around my neck. I don’t even want to think about what would happen to me then.
I lift my head and address my employer. “Of course, Laird William. Whatever ye need me to do.”
“Splendid!” he says. “You leave for Fort William in a week. Deliver the dispatch safely and I can assure you that anything you may have done in England stays there.”