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diff --git a/14960-h/14960-h.htm b/14960-h/14960-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6829542 --- /dev/null +++ b/14960-h/14960-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6091 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="iso-8859-1"?> +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Silent Places, by Stewart +Edward White.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Silent Places, by Steward Edward White + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Silent Places + +Author: Steward Edward White + +Release Date: February 7, 2005 [EBook #14960] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILENT PLACES *** + + + + +Produced by Rick Niles, Charlie Kirschner and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="figcenter"><a name="Frontispiece" id= +"Frontispiece"></a> <a href="images/001.jpg"><img src= +"images/001.jpg" width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>The woodsmen, with a simultaneous movement, raised their rifles +[Page 208]</b> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<h1>THE SILENT PLACES</h1> +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>STEWART EDWARD WHITE</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<img src="images/002.png" width="15%" alt="" title="" /> +<br /></div> +<div class='center'><i>Illustrated by Philip R. Goodwin</i><br /> +<br /> +NEW YORK<br /> +McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.<br /> +<br /> +MCMIV<br /> +<br /> +Published, April, 1904</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><i>To My Mother</i></h2> +<div class='center'><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_ONE"><b>CHAPTER ONE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWO"><b>CHAPTER TWO</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_THREE"><b>CHAPTER THREE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR"><b>CHAPTER FOUR</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE"><b>CHAPTER FIVE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_SIX"><b>CHAPTER SIX</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN"><b>CHAPTER SEVEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT"><b>CHAPTER EIGHT</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_NINE"><b>CHAPTER NINE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TEN"><b>CHAPTER TEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN"><b>CHAPTER ELEVEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE"><b>CHAPTER TWELVE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTEEN"><b>CHAPTER THIRTEEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_FOURTEEN"><b>CHAPTER FOURTEEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_FIFTEEN"><b>CHAPTER FIFTEEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_SIXTEEN"><b>CHAPTER SIXTEEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN"><b>CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN"><b>CHAPTER EIGHTEEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_NINETEEN"><b>CHAPTER NINETEEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY"><b>CHAPTER TWENTY</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_ONE"><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_TWO"><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_THREE"><b>CHAPTER +TWENTY-THREE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_FOUR"><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_FIVE"><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_SIX"><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_SEVEN"><b>CHAPTER +TWENTY-SEVEN</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_EIGHT"><b>CHAPTER +TWENTY-EIGHT</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_NINE"><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY"><b>CHAPTER THIRTY</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY_ONE"><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY_TWO"><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO</b></a> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr> +<td><a href="#Frontispiece">The woodsmen, with a simultaneous +movement, raised their rifles</a></td> +<td align='right'><i><a href= +"#Frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#Illustration034">The child uttered a sharp cry of +fright</a></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Illustration034">26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#Illustration076">"Pretty enough to kiss!" cried +Dick</a></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Illustration076">66</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#Illustration160">"Listen, Little Sister," said he. +"Now I go on a long journey"</a></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Illustration160">148</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#Illustration242">Dick jumped forward and snatched +aside the opening into the wigwam</a></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Illustration242">228</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#Illustration274">The hound sniffed deep, filling his +nostrils with the feather snow</a></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Illustration274">258</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><a href="#Illustration312">"Stop!" he commanded, his voice +croaking harsh across the stillness</a></td> +<td align='right'><a href="#Illustration312">294</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SILENT PLACES</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ONE" id="CHAPTER_ONE"></a>CHAPTER ONE</h2> +<p>At about eight o'clock one evening of the early summer a group +of men were seated on a grass-plot overlooking a broad river. The +sun was just setting through the forest fringe directly behind +them.</p> +<p>Of this group some reclined in the short grass, others lay flat +on the bank's slope, while still others leaned against the +carriages of two highly ornamented field-guns, whose embossed +muzzles gaped silently at an eastern shore nearly two miles +distant.</p> +<p>The men were busy with soft-voiced talk, punctuating their +remarks with low laughter of a singularly infectious character. It +was strange speech, richly embroidered with the musical names of +places, with unfamiliar names of beasts, and with unintelligible +names of things. Kenógami, Mamátawan, +Wenebógan, Kapúskasíng, the silver-fox, the +sea-otter, the sable, the wolverine, the musk-ox, parka, babiche, +tump-line, giddés,—these and others sang like arrows +cleaving the atmosphere of commoner words. In the distant woods the +white-throats and olive thrushes called in a language hardly less +intelligible.</p> +<p>There scarcely needed the row of glistening birch-barks below +the men, the warehouse with its picketed lane, the tall flag-staff, +the block-house stockade, the half-bred women chatting over the low +fences of the log-houses, the squaws wandering to and fro in +picturesque silence, the Indian children playing noisily or +standing in awe before the veranda of the white house, to inform +the initiated that this little forest- and river-girt settlement +was a post of the Honourable the Hudson's Bay Company. The time of +sunset and the direction of the river's flow would have indicated a +high latitude. The mile-long meadow, with its Indian camp, the oval +of forest, the immense breadth of the river identified the place as +Conjuror's House. Thus the blue water in the distance was James +Bay, the river was the Moose; enjoying his Manila cheroot on the +Factory veranda with the other officers of the Company was Galen +Albret, and these men lounging on the river bank were the Company's +post-keepers and runners, the travellers of the Silent Places.</p> +<p>They were of every age and dressed in a variety of styles. All +wore ornamented moccasins, bead garters, and red sashes of worsted. +As to the rest, each followed his taste. So in the group could be +seen bare heads, fillet-bound heads, covered heads; shirt sleeves, +woollen jerseys, and long, beautiful blanket coats. Two things, +however, proved them akin. They all possessed a lean, wiry hardness +of muscle and frame, a hawk-like glance of the eye, an almost +emaciated spareness of flesh on the cheeks. They all smoked pipes +of strong plug tobacco.</p> +<p>Whether the bronze of their faces, thrown into relief by the +evening glow, the frowning steadiness of their eyes, or more +fancifully the background of the guns, the flag-staff and the +stockade was most responsible, the militant impression persisted +strongly. These were the veterans of an hundred battles. They were +of the stuff forlorn hopes are fashioned from. A great enemy, a +powerful enemy, an enemy to be respected and feared had hardened +them to the unyielding. The adversary could almost be measured, the +bitterness of the struggle almost be gauged from the scars of their +spirits; the harshness of it, the cruelty of it, the wonderful +immensity of it that should so fashion the souls and flesh of men. +For to the bearing of these loungers clung that hint of greater +things which is never lacking to those who have called the deeps of +man's nature to the conquering.</p> +<p>The sun dipped to the horizon, and over the landscape slipped +the beautiful north-country haze of crimson. From the distant +forest sounded a single mournful wolf-howl. At once the sledge-dogs +answered in chorus. The twilight descended. The men gradually fell +silent, smoking their pipes, savouring the sharp snow-tang, +grateful to their toughened senses, that still lingered in the +air.</p> +<p>Suddenly out of the dimness loomed the tall form of an Indian, +advancing with long, straight strides. In a moment he was among +them responding composedly to their greetings.</p> +<p>"Bo' jou', bo' jou', Me-en-gen," said they.</p> +<p>"Bo' jou', bo' jou'," said he.</p> +<p>He touched two of the men lightly on the shoulder. They arose, +for they knew him as the bowsman of the Factor's canoe, and so +understood that Galen Albret desired their presence.</p> +<p>Me-en-gen led the way in silence, across the grass-plot, past +the flag-staff, to the foot of the steps leading to the Factory +veranda. There the Indian left them. They mounted the steps. A +voice halted them in the square of light cast through an +intervening room from a lighted inner apartment.</p> +<p>The veranda was wide and low; railed in; and, except for the +square of light, cast in dimness. A dozen men sat in chairs, +smoking. Across the shaft of light the smoke eddied strangely. A +woman's voice accompanied softly the tinkle of a piano inside. The +sounds, like the lamplight, were softened by the distance of the +intervening room.</p> +<p>Of the men on the veranda Galen Albret's identity alone was +evident. Grim, four-square, inert, his very way of sitting his +chair, as though it were a seat of judgment and he the interpreter +of some fierce blood-law, betrayed him. From under the bushy white +tufts of his eyebrows the woodsmen felt the search of his +inspection. Unconsciously they squared their shoulders.</p> +<p>The older had some fifty-five or sixty years, though his frame +was still straight and athletic. A narrow-brimmed slouch hat +shadowed quiet, gray eyes, a hawk nose, a long sweeping white +mustache. His hands were tanned to a hard mahogany-brown carved +into veins, cords, and gnarled joints. He had kindly humour in the +wrinkles of his eyes, the slowly developed imagination of the +forest-dweller in the deliberation of their gaze, and an evident +hard and wiry endurance. His dress, from the rough pea-jacket to +the unornamented moccasins, was severely plain.</p> +<p>His companion was hardly more than a boy in years, though more +than a man in physical development. In every respect he seemed to +be especially adapted to the rigours of northern life. The broad +arch of his chest, the plump smoothness of his muscles, above all, +the full roundness of his throat indicated that warmth-giving +blood, and plenty of it, would be pumped generously to every part +of his body. His face from any point of view but one revealed a +handsome, jaunty boy, whose beard was still a shade. But when he +looked at one directly, the immaturity fell away. This might have +been because of a certain confidence of experience beyond what most +boys of twenty can know, or it might have been the result merely of +a physical peculiarity. For his eyes were so extraordinarily close +together that they seemed by their very proximity to pinch the +bridge of his nose, and in addition, they possessed a queer slant +or cast which twinkled perpetually now in one, now in the other. It +invested him at once with an air singularly remote and singularly +determined. But at once when he looked away the old boyishness +returned, enhanced further by a certain youthful barbarity in the +details of his dress—a slanted heron's feather in his hat, a +beaded knife-sheath, an excess of ornamentation on his garters and +moccasins, and the like.</p> +<p>In a moment one of the men on the veranda began to talk. It was +not Galen Albret, though Galen Albret had summoned them, but +MacDonald, his Chief Trader and his right-hand man. Galen Albret +himself made no sign, but sat, his head sunk forward, watching the +men's faces from his cavernous eyes.</p> +<p>"You have been called for especial duty," began MacDonald, +shortly. "It is volunteer duty, and you need not go unless you want +to. We have called you because you have the reputation of never +having failed. That is not much for you, Herron, because you are +young. Still we believe in you. But you, Bolton, are an old hand on +the Trail, and it means a good deal."</p> +<p>Galen Albret stirred. MacDonald shot a glance in his direction +and hastened on.</p> +<p>"I am going to tell you what we want. If you don't care to +tackle the job, you must know nothing about it. That is distinctly +understood?"</p> +<p>He hitched forward nearer the light, scanning the men carefully. +They nodded.</p> +<p>"Sure!" added Herron.</p> +<p>"That's all right. Do you men remember Jingoss, the Ojibway, who +outfitted here a year ago last summer?"</p> +<p>"Him they calls th' Weasel?" inquired Sam Bolton.</p> +<p>"That's the one. Do you remember him well? how he looks?"</p> +<p>"Yes," nodded Sam and Dick Herron together.</p> +<p>"We've got to have that Indian."</p> +<p>"Where is he?" asked Herron. Sam Bolton remained silent.</p> +<p>"That is for you to find out." MacDonald then went on to explain +himself, hitching his chair still nearer, and lowering his voice. +"A year ago last summer," said he, "he got his 'debt' at the store +of two hundred castors<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id= +"FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> +which he was to pay off in pelts the following spring. He never +came back. I don't think he intends to. The example is bad. It has +never happened to us before. Too many Indians get credit at this +Post. If this man is allowed to go unpunished, we'll be due for all +sorts of trouble with our other creditors. Not only he, but all the +rest of them, must be made to feel that an embezzler is going to be +caught, every time. They all know he's stolen that debt, and +they're waiting to see what we're going to do about it. I tell you +this so you'll know that it's important."</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> One hundred +dollars.</p> +</div> +<p>"You want us to catch him?" said Bolton, more as a comment than +an inquiry.</p> +<p>"Catch him, and catch him alive!" corrected MacDonald. "There +must be no shooting. We've got to punish him in a way that will +make him an example. We've got to allow our Indians 'debt' in order +to keep them. If we run too great a risk of loss, we cannot do it. +That is a grave problem. In case of success you shall have double +pay for the time you are gone, and be raised two ranks in the +service. Will you do it?"</p> +<p>Sam Bolton passed his emaciated, gnarled hand gropingly across +his mouth, his usual precursor of speech. But Galen Albret abruptly +interposed, speaking directly, with authority, as was his +habit.</p> +<p>"Hold on," said he, "I want no doubt. If you accept this, you +must not fail. Either you must come back with that Indian, or you +need not come back at all. I won't accept any excuses for failure. +I won't accept any failure. It does not matter if it takes ten +years. <i>I want that man</i>."</p> +<p>Abruptly he fell silent. After a moment MacDonald resumed his +speech.</p> +<p>"Think well. Let me know in the morning."</p> +<p>Bolton again passed his hand gropingly before his mouth.</p> +<p>"No need to wait for me," said he; "I'll do it."</p> +<p>Dick Herron suddenly laughed aloud, startling to flight the +gravities of the moment.</p> +<p>"If Sam here's got her figured out, I've no need to worry," he +asserted. "I'm with you."</p> +<p>"Very well," agreed MacDonald. "Remember, this must be kept +quiet. Come to me for what you need."</p> +<p>"I will say good-by to you now," said Galen Albret. "I do not +wish to be seen talking to you to-morrow."</p> +<p>The woodsmen stepped forward, and solemnly shook Galen Albret's +hand. He did not arise to greet these men he was sending out into +the Silent Places, for he was the Factor, and not to many is it +given to rule a country so rich and extended. They nodded in turn +to the taciturn smokers, then glided away into the darkness on +silent, moccasined feet.</p> +<p>The night had fallen. Here and there through the gloom shone a +lamp. Across the north was a dim glow of phosphorescence, precursor +of the aurora, from which occasionally trembled for an instant a +single shaft of light. The group by the bronze field-cannon were +humming softly the sweet and tender cadences of <i>La Violette +dandine</i>.</p> +<p>Instinctively the two woodsmen paused on the hither side of +rejoining their companions. Bolton's eyes were already clouded with +the trouble of his speculation. Dick Herron glanced at his comrade +quizzically, the strange cast flickering in the wind of his +thought.</p> +<p>"Oh, Sam!" said he.</p> +<p>"What?" asked the older man, rousing.</p> +<p>"Strikes me that by the time we get through drawin' that double +pay on this job, we'll be rich men—and old!"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWO" id="CHAPTER_TWO"></a>CHAPTER TWO</h2> +<p>The men stood looking vaguely upward at the stars.</p> +<p>Dick Herron whipped the grasses with a switch he had broken in +passing a willow-bush. His mind was little active. Chiefly he +regretted the good time he had promised himself here at the Post +after the labour of an early spring march from distant Winnipeg. He +appreciated the difficulties of the undertaking, but idly, as +something that hardly concerned him. The details, the planning, he +dismissed from his mind, confident that his comrade would rise to +that. In time Sam Bolton would show him the point at which he was +to bend his strength. Then he would stoop his shoulders, shut his +eyes, and apply the magnificent brute force and pluck that was in +him. So now he puckered his lips to the sibilance of a canoe-song, +and waited.</p> +<p>But the other, Sam Bolton, the veteran woodsman, stood in rapt +contemplation, his wide-seeing, gentle eyes of the old man staring +with the magnitude of his revery.</p> +<p>Beyond the black velvet band lay the wilderness. There was the +trackless country, large as the United States itself, with its +great forests, its unmapped bodies of water, its plains, its barren +grounds, its mountains, its water courses wider even than the +Hudson River. Moose and bear, true lords of the forest, he might +see any summer day. Herds of caribou, sometimes thousands strong, +roamed its woodlands and barrens. Wolves, lurking or bold as their +prey was strong or weak, clung to the caribou bands in hope of a +victim. Wolverines,—unchanged in form from another geological +period—marten, mink, fisher, otter, ermine, muskrat, lynx, +foxes, beaver carried on their varied affairs of murder or of +peaceful industry. Woods Indians, scarcely less keen of sense or +natural of life than the animals, dwelt in their wigwams of bark or +skins, trapped and fished, made their long migrations as the geese +turn following their instinct. Sun, shadow, rain, cold, snow, +hunger, plenty, labour, or the peaceful gliding of rivers, these +had watched by the Long Trail in the years Sam Bolton had followed +it. He sensed them now dimly, instinctively, waiting by the Trail +he was called upon to follow.</p> +<p>Sam Bolton had lived many years in the forest, and many years +alone. Therefore he had imagination. It might be of a limited +quality, but through it he saw things in their essences.</p> +<p>Now from the safe vantage ground of the camp, from the breathing +space before the struggle, he looked out upon the wilderness, and +in the wilderness he felt the old, inimical Presence as he had felt +it for forty years. The scars of that long combat throbbed through +his consciousness. The twisting of his strong hands, the loosening +of the elasticity, the humbling of the spirit, the caution that had +displaced the carelessness of youth, the keenness of eye, the +patience,—all these were at once the marks of blows and the +spoils of victory received from the Enemy. The wilderness, calm, +ruthless, just, terrible, waited in the shadow of the forest, +seeking no combat, avoiding none, conquering with a lofty air of +predestination, yielding superbly as though the moment's victory +for which a man had strained the fibres of his soul were, after +all, a little, unimportant thing; never weary, never exultant, +dispassionate, inevitable, mighty, whose emotions were silence, +whose speech was silence, whose most terrible weapon was the great +white silence that smothered men's spirits. Sam Bolton clearly saw +the North. He felt against him the steady pressure of her +resistance. She might yield, but relentlessly regained her +elasticity. Men's efforts against her would tire; the mechanics of +her power remained constant. What she lost in the moments of her +opponent's might, she recovered in the hours of his weakness, so +that at the last she won, poised in her original equilibrium above +the bodies of her antagonists. Dimly he felt these things, +personifying the wilderness in his imagination of the old man, +arranging half-consciously his weapons of craft in their due +order.</p> +<p>Somewhere out beyond in those woods, at any one of the +thirty-two points of the compass, a man was lurking. He might be +five or five hundred miles away. He was an expert at taking care of +himself in the woods. Abruptly Sam Bolton began to formulate his +thoughts aloud.</p> +<p>"We got to keep him or anybody else from knowin' we's after him, +Dick," said he. "Jest as soon as he knows that, it's just too easy +for him to keep out of our way. Lucky Jingoss is an Ojibway, and +his people are way off south. We can fool this crowd here easy +enough; we'll tell 'em we're looking for new locations for winter +posts. But she's an awful big country."</p> +<p>"Which way'll we go first?" asked Dick, without, however, much +interest in the reply. Whatever Sam decided was sure to be all +right.</p> +<p>"It's this way," replied the latter. "He's got to trade +somewheres. He can't come into any of the Posts here at the Bay. +What's the nearest? Why, Missináibie, down in Lake Superior +country. Probably he's down in that country somewheres. We'll start +south."</p> +<p>"That's Ojibway country," hazarded Dick at random.</p> +<p>"It's Ojibway country, but Jingoss is a Georgian Bay Ojibway. +Down near Missináibie every Injun has his own hunting +district, and they're different from our Crees,—they stick +pretty close to their district. Any strangers trying to hunt and +trap there are going to get shot, sure pop. That makes me think +that if Jingoss has gone south, and if he's trading now at +Missináibie, and if he ain't chummed up with some of them +Ojibways to get permission to trap in their allotments, and if he +ain't pushed right on home to his own people or out west to +Winnipeg country, then most likely we'll find him somewheres about +the region of th' Kabinakágam."</p> +<p>"So we'll go up th' Missináibie River first," surmised +Dick.</p> +<p>"That's how we'll make a start," assented Bolton.</p> +<p>As though this decision had terminated an interview, they turned +with one accord toward the dim group of their companions. As they +approached, they were acclaimed.</p> +<p>"Here he is," "Dick, come here," "Dick, sing us the song. Chante +donc 'Oncle Naid,' Deeck."</p> +<p>And Dick, leaning carelessly against the breech of the +field-guns, in a rich, husky baritone crooned to the far north the +soft syllables of the far south.</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>Oh, there was an old +darkey, and his name was Uncle Ned,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>And he lived long ago, long +ago!</i>"</span></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THREE" id="CHAPTER_THREE"></a>CHAPTER +THREE</h2> +<p>In the selection of paddles early next morning Sam insisted that +the Indian rule be observed, measuring carefully that the length of +each implement should just equal the height of its wielder. He +chose the narrow maple blade, that it might not split when thrust +against the bottom to check speed in a rapid. Further the blades +were stained a brilliant orange.</p> +<p>Dick Herron had already picked one of a dozen birch-bark canoes +laid away under the bridge over the dry coulee. He knew a good +canoe as you would know a good horse. Fourteen feet it measured, of +the heavy winter-cut of bark, and with a bottom all of one piece, +without cracks or large knots.</p> +<p>The canoe and the paddles they laid at the water's edge. Then +they went together to the great warehouse, behind the grill of +whose upper room MacDonald was writing. Ordinarily the trappers +were not allowed inside the grill, but Dick and Sam were told to +help themselves freely. The stocking Dick left to his older +companion, assuring himself merely of an hundred rounds of +ammunition for his new model Winchester rifle, the 44-40 repeater, +then just entering the outskirts of its popularity.</p> +<p>In the obscurity of the wide, low room the old woodsman moved to +and fro, ducking his head to avoid things hanging, peering into +corners, asking an occasional question of MacDonald, who followed +him silently about. Two small steel traps, a narrow, small-meshed +fish-net, a fish-line and hooks, powder, ball, and caps for the old +man's muzzle-loader, a sack of salt were first laid aside. This +represented subsistence. Then matches, a flint-and-steel machine, +two four-point blankets. These meant warmth. Then ten pounds of +plug tobacco and as many of tea. These were necessary luxuries. And +finally a small sack of flour and a side of bacon. These were +merely a temporary provision; when they should be exhausted, the +men would rely wholly on the forest.</p> +<p>Sam Bolton hovered over the pile, after it was completed, his +eyes half shut, naming over its items again and again, assuring +himself that nothing lacked. At his side MacDonald made +suggestions.</p> +<p>"Got a copper pail, Sam? a frying-pan? cups? How about the axe? +Better have an extra knife between you. Need any clothes? Compass +all right?"</p> +<p>To each of these questions Sam nodded an assent. So MacDonald, +having named everything—with the exception of the canvas +square to be used as a tarpaulin or a tent, and soap and +towel—fell silent, convinced that he could do nothing +more.</p> +<p>But Dick, who had been drumming his fingers idly against the +window, turned with a suggestion of his own.</p> +<p>"How're we fixed for shoe pacs? I haven't got any."</p> +<p>At once MacDonald looked blank.</p> +<p>"By George, boys, I ain't got but four or five pairs of +moccasins in the place! There's plenty of oil tan; I can fix you +all right there. But smoke tans! That Abítibi gang mighty +near cleaned me out. You'll have to try the Indians."</p> +<p>Accordingly Bolton and Herron took their way in the dusty little +foot-trodden path—there were no horses in that +frontier—between the Factor's residence and the Clerk's +house, down the meandering trail through the high grasses of the +meadow to where the Indian lodges lifted their pointed tops against +the sky.</p> +<p>The wigwams were scattered apparently at random. Before each a +fire burned. Women and girls busied themselves with a variety of +camp-work. A tame crow hopped and fluttered here and there just out +of reach of the pointed-nosed, shaggy wolf-dogs.</p> +<p>The latter rushed madly forward at the approaching strangers, +yelping in a curious, long-drawn bay, more suggestive of their wolf +ancestors than of the domestic animal. Dick and Sam laid about them +vigorously with short staffs they had brought for the purpose. +Immediately the dogs, recognising their dominance, slunk back. +Three men sauntered forward, grinning broadly in amiable greeting. +Two or three women, more bashful than the rest, scuttled into the +depths of wigwams out of sight. A multitude of children concealed +themselves craftily, like a covey of quail, and focussed their +bright, bead-like eyes on the new-comers. The rest of the camp went +its way unmoved.</p> +<p>"Bo' jou', bo' jou'," greeted Sam Bolton.</p> +<p>"Bo' jou', bo' jou'," replied the three.</p> +<p>These Indians were of the far upper country. They spoke no +English nor French, and adhered still to their own tribal customs +and religious observances. They had lingered several days beyond +their time for the purpose of conjuring. In fact at this very +moment the big medicine lodge raised itself in the centre of the +encampment like a miniature circus tent. Sam Bolton addressed the +two in their own language.</p> +<p>"We wish to buy many moccasins of your old women," said Sam.</p> +<p>Immediately one of the Indians glided away. From time to time +during the next few minutes he was intermittently visible as he +passed from the dark interior of one wigwam, across the sunlight, +and into the dark interior of another.</p> +<p>The older of the two still in company of the white men began to +ask questions.</p> +<p>"The Little Father is about to make a long journey?"</p> +<p>"Does one buy so many moccasins for a short?"</p> +<p>"He goes to hunt the fur?"</p> +<p>"Perhaps."</p> +<p>"In what direction does he set the bow of his canoe?"</p> +<p>Suddenly Dick Herron, who had, as usual, been paying attention +to almost anything rather than the matter in hand, darted suddenly +toward a clump of grass. In a moment he straightened his back to +hold at arm's length a struggling little boy. At the instant of his +seizure the child uttered a sharp cry of fright, then closed his +lips in the stoicism of his race.</p> +<p>That one cry was enough, however. Rescue darted from the nearest +wigwam. A flying figure covered the little distance in a dozen +graceful leaps, snatched the child from the young man's hands and +stood, one foot advanced, breast heaving, a palpitating, wild +thing, like a symbol of defiance.</p> +<p>The girl belonged distinctly to the more attractive type; it +required but little imagination to endow her with real beauty. Her +figure was straight and slim and well-proportioned, her eyes large, +her face oval and quite devoid of the broad, high-cheeked stupidity +so common in the northern races. At the moment she flashed like a +brand with quick-breathed anger and fear.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="Illustration034" id= +"Illustration034"></a> <a href="images/034.jpg"><img src= +"images/034.jpg" width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>The child uttered a sharp cry of fright</b> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<p>Dick looked at her at first with amazement, then with mingled +admiration and mischief. He uttered a ferocious growl and lowered +his shoulders as though about to charge. Immediately the defiance +broke. The girl turned and fled, plunging like a rabbit into the +first shelter that offered, pursued by shrieks of delight from the +old squaws, a pleased roar from Dick, and the laughter of the +Indian men themselves.</p> +<p>"May-may-gwán<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id= +"FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class= +"fnanchor">[2]</a>," said the oldest Indian, naming her, "foster +sister to the boy you had caught."</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The +Butterfly.</p> +</div> +<p>"She is Ojibway, then," exclaimed Dick, catching at the Ojibway +word.</p> +<p>"Ae," admitted the Cree, indifferently. Such inclusions of +another tribe, either by adoption or marriage, are not +uncommon.</p> +<p>At this moment the third Indian approached.</p> +<p>"No moccasins," he reported. "Plenty buckskin."</p> +<p>Sam Bolton looked troubled. This meant a delay. However, it +could not be avoided.</p> +<p>"Let the old women make some," he decided.</p> +<p>The Cree old-man shook his head.</p> +<p>"That cannot be. There is not time. We turn our canoes to the +Missináibie by next sun."</p> +<p>Sam pondered again, turning over in his mind this fresh +complication. But Dick, kicking the earth clods in impatience, +broke in.</p> +<p>"Well, we're going by the Missináibie, too. Let the women +make the moccasins. We will accompany you."</p> +<p>"That might be," replied the Indian.</p> +<p>"It is well," said Bolton.</p> +<p>An old woman was summoned. She measured her customers' feet with +a buckskin thong. Then they departed without further ceremony. An +Indian rarely says farewell. When his business is finished he +goes.</p> +<p>"Dick," said Sam, "you ought not to have broke in there."</p> +<p>"What do you mean?" asked the other, puzzled.</p> +<p>"Suggesting our travelling with them."</p> +<p>"Why?" cried Dick in astonishment. "Ain't you never travelled +with Injuns before?"</p> +<p>"That ain't th' question. Did you notice that third Injun? the +one who didn't do any talking?"</p> +<p>"Sure! What of him?"</p> +<p>"Well, he's an Ojibway. Th' rest are Wood Crees. And I miss my +guess if he ain't a bad customer. He watched us mighty close, and +his eyes are bad. He's sharp. He's one of that wondering kind. He's +wondering now who we are, and where we're going, and why we're +hitting so long a trail. And what's more, he belongs to this +Jingoss's people in a roundabout sort of way. He's worse than fifty +Crees. Maybe he knows all about Jingoss, and if he does, he'll get +suspicious the minute we angle down into that country."</p> +<p>"Let's let 'em slide, then," suggested Dick, impatiently. "Let's +buy some buckskin and make our own moccasins."</p> +<p>"Too late now," negatived Sam. "To back out would be bad."</p> +<p>"Oh, well, you're just borrowing trouble anyway," laughed +Dick.</p> +<p>"Maybe, maybe," acknowledged the other; "but borrowing trouble, +and then figuring out how you're going to meet it if it comes to +you in good earnest, is mighty good woodcraft."</p> +<p>"Sam," burst out Dick, whose attention had been caught by a word +in his companion's first speech, and whose mind had been running on +it throughout the ensuing discussion, "did you notice that girl? +She's a tearing little beauty!"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR" id="CHAPTER_FOUR"></a>CHAPTER FOUR</h2> +<p>By now it was nearly noon. The travellers carried the packs they +had made up down to the water-side where the canoe lay. Although +the Indians would not get under way until the following morning, it +had been decided to push on at once, thus avoiding the confusion of +a crowded start.</p> +<p>In the course of the morning's business the news of their +expedition had noised abroad. Especially were they commiserated by +the other runners and post-keepers. During all the winter these men +had lived under the frown of the North, conducting their affairs +confidently yet with caution, sure of themselves, yet never sure of +the great power in whose tolerance they existed, in spite of whom +they accomplished. Now was the appointed time of rest. In the +relaxation of the thought they found pity for those ordered out of +season into the Silent Places.</p> +<p>So at the river's bank Sam Bolton and Dick Herron, ready for +departure, found a group gathered. It was supposed that these men +were to act as scouts, to reconnoitre shrewdly in the Enemy's +country, to spy out the land, so that in the autumn the Company +might throw into the wilderness new posts, to be inhabited during +the colder months.</p> +<p>"Look heem Bla'k Bevair Lak," advised Louis Placide; "I t'ink +dose Ojibway mak' heem lots marten, mink la bas."</p> +<p>"Lads," said Kern, the trader at Old Brunswick House, "if you're +going up th' Missináibie just cast an eye on my <i>cache</i> +at Gull Lake, and see that the carcajaus have let her be."</p> +<p>Young Herbert was curious. "Where are you headed, boys?" he +inquired.</p> +<p>But Ki-wa-nee, the trusty, the trader at Flying Post, the only +Indian in the Company's service holding rank as a commissioned +officer, grunted in contempt at the question, while Achard, of New +Brunswick House, motioned warningly toward the groups of Indian +trappers in the background. "Hush, boy," said he to Herbert, "news +travels, and in the south are the Free Traders to snatch at a new +country."</p> +<p>By now the voyageurs had turned their canoe over, slid it into +the water, and piled the duffle amidships.</p> +<p>But before they had time to step aboard, came Virginia Albret, +then seventeen years old and as slender and graceful as a fawn. The +daughter of the Factor, she had acquired a habit of command that +became her well. While she enunciated her few and simple words of +well-wishing, she looked straight out at them from deep black eyes. +The two woodsmen, awed into a vast respect, fumbled their caps in +their hands and noted, in the unconscious manner of the forest +frequenter, the fresh dusk rose of her skin, the sharply defined +red of her lips, the soft wheat colour of her hair. It was a +gracious memory to carry into the Silent Places, and was in itself +well worth the bestowal. However, Virginia, as was her habit, gave +presents. On each she bestowed a long silk handkerchief. Sam +Bolton, with a muttered word of thanks, stuffed his awkwardly into +his shirt bosom. Dick, on the other hand, with a gesture half of +gallantry, half of bravado, stripped his own handkerchief from his +neck and cast it far into the current, knotting the girl's gift in +its place. Virginia smiled. A strong push sent the canoe into the +current. They began to paddle up-stream.</p> +<p>For perhaps a mile their course threaded in and out the channel +of a number of islands, then shot them into the broad reach of the +Moose itself. There they set themselves to straight-forward +paddling, hugging closely the shore that they might escape as much +as possible the full strength of the current. In this manner they +made rapid progress, for, of course, they paddled in the Indian +fashion—without bending either elbow, and with a strong +thrust forward of the shoulders at the end of the stroke—and +they understood well how to take advantage of each little back +eddy.</p> +<p>After an hour and a half they came to the first unimportant +rapids, where they were forced to drop their paddles and to use the +long spruce-poles they had cut and peeled that morning. Dick had +the bow. It was beautiful to see him standing boldly upright, his +feet apart, leaning back against the pressure, making head against +the hurrying water. In a moment the canoe reached the point of +hardest suction, where the river broke over the descent. Then the +young man, taking a deep breath, put forth the strength that was in +him. Sam Bolton, poised in the stern, holding the canoe while his +companion took a fresh hold, noted with approval the boy's physical +power, the certainty of his skill at the difficult river work, the +accuracy of his calculations. Whatever his heedlessness, Dick +Herron knew his trade. It was, indeed, a powerful Instrument that +Galen Albret in his wisdom had placed in Sam Bolton's hands.</p> +<p>The canoe, torn from the rapid's grasp, shot into the smooth +water above. Calmly Sam and Dick shook the water from their poles +and laid them across the thwarts. The <i>swish click! swish +click!</i> of the paddles resumed.</p> +<p>Now the river began to hurry in the ten-mile descent below the +Abítibi. Although the smooth rush of water was unbroken by +the swirls of rapids, nevertheless the current proved too strong +for paddling. The voyagers were forced again to the canoe poles, +and so toiled in graceful but strenuous labour the remaining hours +of their day's journey. When finally they drew ashore for the +night, they had but just passed the mouth of French River.</p> +<p>To men as skilled as they, the making of camp was a brief +affair. Dick, with his axe, cleared the space of underbrush, and +sought dry wood for fuel. The older man in the meantime hunted +about until he found a dead white-birch sapling. This he easily +thrust to the ground with a strong push of his hand. The jar burst +here and there the hard envelope of the birch bark to expose a +quantity of half-powdery, decayed wood, dry as tinder and almost as +inflammable as gunpowder. Into a handful of this Sam threw the +sparks from his flint and steel. The bark itself fed admirably the +first flame. By the time Dick returned, the fire was ready for his +fuel.</p> +<p>They cooked tea in the copper pail, and roasted bacon on the +ends of switches. This, with bread from the Post, constituted their +meal. After supper they smoked, banked the fire with green wood, +and rolled themselves in their blankets to sleep. It was summer, so +they did not trouble to pitch their shelter.</p> +<p>The night died into silence. Slowly the fire worked from within +through the chinks of the green logs. Forest creatures paused to +stare at it with steady eyes, from which flashed back a blaze as +intense as the fire's own. An owl took his station near and began +to call. Overhead the brilliant aurora of the Far North palpitated +in a silence that seemed uncanny when coupled with such intensity +of movement. Shadows stole here and there like acolytes. Breezes +rose and died like the passing of a throng. The woods were peopled +with uncanny influences, intangible, unreal, yet potent with the +symbolism of the unknown Presence watching these men. The North, +calm, patient, biding her time, serene in the assurance of might, +drew close to the camp in the wilderness.</p> +<p>By and by a little pack of wolves came and squatted on their +haunches just in the shadow. They were well fed and harmless, but +they sat there blinking lazily at the flames, their tongues +lolling, exactly like so many shaggy and good-humoured dogs. About +two o'clock Dick rolled out of his blanket and replenished the +fire. He did it somnolently, his eyes vacant, his expression that +of a child. Then he took a half-comprehending glance at the +heaven's promise of fair weather, and sank again into the warmth of +his blanket. The wolves had not stirred.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE" id="CHAPTER_FIVE"></a>CHAPTER FIVE</h2> +<p>Now the small sack of flour and the side of bacon and the loose +provisions brought from the Post could last but a little time, and +the journey was like to be long. The travellers were to be forced +from now on, just as are the wolves, the eagles, the hawks, the +carcajous, and other predatory creatures of the woods, to give +their first thoughts to the day's sustenance. All other +considerations gave way to this. This was the first, the daily +tribute to be wrested from the stubborn grasp of the North. Winning +that, anything was possible; failing that, nothing could follow but +defeat. Therefore, valuable exceedingly were the two little steel +traps and the twelve-foot length of gill-net, the sharp, thin +knives in the beaded sheaths, and especially precious, precious +above all things else, the three hundred rounds of ammunition for +the rifles. They must be guarded and cared for and saved.</p> +<p>Therefore an incident of the early afternoon was more than +welcome.</p> +<p>All the morning they had toiled against the current, sometimes +poling, sometimes "tracking" by means of a sixty-foot cod-line. +Dick looped this across his chest and pulled like a horse on the +tow-path, while Sam Bolton sat in the stern with the +steering-paddle. The banks were sometimes precipitous, sometimes +stony, sometimes grown to the water's edge with thick vegetation. +Dick had often to wade, often to climb and scramble, sometimes even +to leap from one foothold to another. Only rarely did he enjoy +level footing and the opportunity for a straight pull. Suddenly in +a shallow pool, near the river's edge, and bordered with waist-high +grass, he came upon a flock of black ducks. They were full grown, +but as yet unable to fly. Dick dropped his tow-line and ran forward +with a shout. At once the ducks became confused, scattering in all +directions, squawking madly, spattering the water. The mother flew. +The brood, instead of making for the open river, where it would +have been safe, scuttled into the tall grasses.</p> +<p>Here was the chance for fresh meat without the expenditure of a +shot. Sam Bolton promptly disembarked. To us it would have seemed a +simple matter. But the black duck is an expert at concealment, even +in the open. He can do wonders at it when assisted by the shadows +of long grass. And when too closely approached he can glide away to +right and left like a snake, leaving no rustle to betray his +passage. Five minutes passed before the first was discovered. Then +it was only because Dick's keen eye had detected a faintly stirring +grass-blade ten feet away, and because Dick's quick muscles had +brought him like a tiger to the spot. He held up his victim by the +neck.</p> +<p>"Good enough," growled Sam.</p> +<p>And although they had seen nine ducks go into the grass plot, +which was not more than fifty feet across, they succeeded in +finding but three. However, they were satisfied.</p> +<p>In spite of the deliberation of their journeying, the Indians +did not overtake them until nearly dark. It was just above the +junction of the Abítibi. The river was without current, the +atmosphere without the suspicion of a breeze. Down to the very +water's edge grew the forest, so velvet-dark that one could not +have guessed where the shadow left off and the reflection began. +Not a ripple disturbed the peace of the water, nor a harsh sound +the twilight peace of the air. Sam and Dick had paddled for some +time close to one bank, and now had paused to enjoy their pipes and +the cool of the evening. Suddenly against the reflected sky at the +lower bend a canoe loomed into sight, and crept smoothly and +noiselessly under the forest shadow of the opposite bank. Another +followed, then another, and another and still another in regular +interval. Not a sound could be heard. In the distance their +occupants gave the illusion of cowled figures,—the Indian +women close wrapped in their shawls, dropping their heads modestly +or turning them aside as their customs commanded them to do on +encountering strangers. Against the evening glow of the reflected +sky for a single instant they stood out in the bright yellow of the +new birch-bark, the glow of warm colour on the women's dress. Then +instantaneously, in the darkness of the opposite bank, they faded +wraith-like and tenuous. Like phantoms of the past they glided by, +a river's width away; then vanished around the upper bend. A moment +later the river was empty.</p> +<p>"Th' squaws goin' ahead to start camp," commented Sam Bolton, +indifferently; "we'll have th' bucks along pretty quick."</p> +<p>They drove their paddles strongly, and drifted to the middle of +the river.</p> +<p>Soon became audible shouts, cries, and laughter, the click of +canoe poles. The business of the day was over. Until nearly sundown +the men's canoes had led, silent, circumspect, seeking game at +every bend of the river. Now the squaws had gone on to make camp. +No more game was to be expected. The band relaxed, joking, +skylarking, glad to be relieved for a little while of the strain of +attention.</p> +<p>In a moment the canoes appeared, a long, unbroken string, led by +Haukemah. In the bow sat the chief's son, a lad of nine, wielding +his little paddle skilfully, already intelligent to twist the prow +sharply away from submerged rocks, learning to be a canoe-man so +that in the time to come he might go on the Long Trail.</p> +<p>Each canoe contained, besides its two occupants, a variety of +household goods, and a dog or two coiled and motionless, his sharp +nose resting between his outstretched forepaws. The tame crow +occupied an ingenious cage of twisted osiers.</p> +<p>Haukemah greeted the two white men cordially, and stopped +paddling to light his pipe. One by one the other canoes joined +them. A faint haze of tobacco rose from the drifting group.</p> +<p>"My brothers have made a long sun," observed old Haukemah. "We, +too, have hastened. Now we have met, and it is well. Down past the +white rock it became the fortune of Two-fingers to slay a caribou +that stood by the little water<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id= +"FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class= +"fnanchor">[3]</a>. Also had we whitefish the evening before. Past +the Island of the Three Trees were signs of moose." He was telling +them the news, as one who passed the time of day.</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> A spring.</p> +</div> +<p>"We have killed but neenee-sheeb, the duck," replied Dick, +holding up one of the victims by the neck, "nor have we seen the +trail of game."</p> +<p>"Ah hah," replied Haukemah, politely.</p> +<p>He picked up his paddle. It was the signal to start.</p> +<p>"Drop in astern," said Dick to his companion in English, "it's +the light of the evening, and I'm going to troll for a +pickerel."</p> +<p>One by one the canoes fell into line. Now, late in the day, the +travel was most leisurely. A single strong stroke of the paddle was +always succeeded by a pause of contemplation. Nevertheless the +light craft skimmed on with almost extraordinary buoyancy, and in +silent regularity the wooded points of the river succeeded one +another.</p> +<p>Sam busied himself with the trolling-spoon, but as soon as the +last canoe was well beyond hearing he burst out:</p> +<p>"Dick, did you notice the Chippewa?"</p> +<p>"No. What?"</p> +<p>"He understands English."</p> +<p>"How do you know?"</p> +<p>"He was right behind us when you told me you were goin' to try +the fishing, and he moved out th' way before we'd raised our +paddles."</p> +<p>"Might have been an accident."</p> +<p>"Perhaps, but I don't believe it. He looked too almighty +innocent. Another thing, did you notice he was alone in his +canoe?"</p> +<p>"What of it?"</p> +<p>"Shows he ain't noways popular with th' rest. Generally they +pair off. There's mostly something shady about these +renegades."</p> +<p>"Well?"</p> +<p>"Oh, nothing. Only we got to be careful."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIX" id="CHAPTER_SIX"></a>CHAPTER SIX</h2> +<p>Camp was made among the trees of an elevated bank above a small +brook.</p> +<p>Already the Indian women had pitched the shelters, spreading +squares of canvas, strips of birch-bark or tanned skins over +roughly improvised lean-to poles. A half dozen tiny fires, too, +they had built, over which some were at the moment engaged in +hanging as many kettles. Several of the younger women were cleaning +fish and threading them on switches. Others brought in the small +twigs for fuel. Among them could be seen May-may-gwán, the +young Ojibway girl, gliding here and there, eyes downcast, +inexpressibly graceful in contrast with the Crees.</p> +<p>At once on landing the men took up their share of the work. Like +the birds of the air and the beasts of the wood their first +thoughts turned to the assurance of food. Two young fellows +stretched a gill-net across the mouth of the creek. Others +scattered in search of favourable spots in which to set the +musk-rat traps, to hang snares for rabbits and grouse.</p> +<p>Soon the camp took on the air of age, of long establishment, +that is so suddenly to be won in the forest. The kettles began to +bubble; the impaled fish to turn brown. A delicious odour of +open-air cooking permeated the air. Men filled pipes and smoked in +contemplation; children warmed themselves as near the tiny fires as +they dared. Out of the dense blackness of the forest from time to +time staggered what at first looked to be an uncouth and misshapen +monster, but which presently resolved itself into an Indian leaning +under a burden of spruce-boughs, so smoothly laid along the haft of +a long forked stick that the bearer of the burden could sling it +across his shoulder like a bale of hay. As he threw it to the +ground, a delicate spice-like aroma disengaged itself to mingle +with the smell of cooking. Just at the edge of camp sat the +wolf-dogs, their yellow eyes gleaming, waiting in patience for +their tardy share.</p> +<p>After the meal the women drew apart. Dick's eyes roved in vain, +seeking a glimpse of the Ojibway girl. He was too familiar with +Indian etiquette to make an advance, and in fact his interest was +but languidly aroused.</p> +<p>The men sat about the larger fire smoking. It was the hour of +relaxation. In the blaze their handsome or strong-lined brown faces +lighted good-humouredly. They talked and laughed in low tones, the +long syllables of their language lisping and hissing in strange +analogy to the noises of the fire or the forest or the rapids or +some other natural thing. Their speech was of the chances of the +woods and the approaching visit to their Ojibway brothers in the +south. For this they had brought their grand ceremonial robes of +deerskin, now stowed securely in bags. The white men were silent. +In a little while the pipes were finished. The camp was asleep. +Through the ashes and the embers prowled the wolf-dogs, but +half-fed, seeking scraps. Soon they took to the beach in search of +cast-up fish. There they wandered all night long under the moon +voicing their immemorial wrongs to the silenced forest.</p> +<p>Almost at first streak of dawn the women were abroad. Shortly +after, the men visited their traps and lifted the nets. In this +land and season of plenty the catch had been good. The snares had +strangled three hares; the steel traps had caught five muskrats, +which are very good eating in spite of their appearance; the net +had intercepted a number of pickerel, suckers, and river whitefish. +This, with the meat of the caribou, shot by Three Fingers the day +before, and the supplies brought from the Post, made ample +provision.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, when the camp had been struck and the canoes +loaded, the order of march was reversed. Now the men took the lead +by a good margin, and the women and children followed. For in the +wooded country game drinks early.</p> +<p>Before setting out, however, old Haukemah blazed a fair clean +place on a fir-tree, and with hard charcoal from the fire marked on +it these characters:</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<img src="images/058.png" width="60%" alt="" title="" /> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<p>"Can you read Injun writin'?" asked Dick. "I can't."</p> +<p>"Yes," replied Sam, "learned her when I was snowed up one winter +with Scar-Face down by the Burwash Lake country." He squinted his +eyes, reading the syllables slowly.</p> +<p>"'Abichi-kā-menót Moosamík-kā-jā +yank. Missowā edookan owāsi sek negi—' Why, it's +Ojibway, not Cree," he exclaimed. "They're just leaving a record. +'Good journey from Moose Factory. Big game has been seen.' Funny +how plumb curious an Injun is. They ain't one could come along here +and see th' signs of this camp and rest easy 'till he'd figgered +out how many they were, and where they were going, and what they +were doing, and all about it. These records are a kind-hearted try +to save other Injuns that come along a whole lot of trouble. That's +why old Haukemah wrote it in Ojibway 'stead of Cree: this is by +rights Ojibway country."</p> +<p>"We'd better pike out, if we don't want to get back with th' +squaws," suggested Dick.</p> +<p>About two hours before noon, while the men's squadron was +paddling slowly along a flat bank overgrown with grass and bushes, +Dick and Sam perceived a sudden excitement in the leading canoes. +Haukemah stopped, then cautiously backed until well behind the +screen of the point. The other canoes followed his example. In a +moment they were all headed down stream, creeping along noiselessly +without lifting their paddles from the water.</p> +<p>"They've seen some game beyant the point," whispered Dick. +"Wonder what it is?"</p> +<p>But instead of pausing when out of earshot for the purpose of +uncasing the guns or landing a stalking party, the Indians crept, +gradually from the shore, caught the current, and shot away down +stream in the direction from which they had come.</p> +<p>"It's a bear," said Sam, quietly. "They've gone to get their +war-paint on."</p> +<p>The men rested the bow of their canoe lightly against the shore, +and waited. In a short time the Indian canoes reappeared.</p> +<p>"Say, they've surely got th' dry goods!" commented Dick, +amused.</p> +<p>In the short interval that had elapsed, the Indians had +intercepted their women, unpacked their baggage, and arrayed +themselves in their finest dress of ceremony. Buckskin elaborately +embroidered with beads and silks in the flower pattern, ornaments +of brass and silver, sacred skins of the beaver, broad dashes of +ochre and vermilion on the naked skin, twisted streamers of +coloured wool—all added to the barbaric gorgeousness of the +old-time savage in his native state. Each bowsman carried a long +brass-bound forty-five "trade-gun," warranted to kill up to ten +yards.</p> +<p>"It's surely a nifty outfit!" commented Sam, half +admiringly.</p> +<p>A half dozen of the younger men were landed. At once they +disappeared in the underbrush. Although the two white men strained +their keen senses they were unable to distinguish by sight or sound +the progress of the party through the bushes.</p> +<p>"I guess they're hunters, all right," conceded Dick.</p> +<p>The other men waited like bronze statues. After a long interval +a pine-warbler uttered its lisping note. Immediately the paddles +dipped in the silent deer-stalker's stroke, and the cavalcade crept +forward around the point.</p> +<p>Dick swept the shore with his eye, but saw nothing. Then all +heard plainly a half-smothered grunt of satisfaction, followed by a +deep drawn breath. Phantom-like, without apparently the slightest +directing motion, the bows of the canoes swung like wind-vanes to +point toward a little heap of driftlogs under the shadow of an +elder bush. The bear was wallowing in the cool, wet sand, and +evidently enjoying it. A moment later he stuck his head over the +pile of driftwood, and indulged in a leisurely survey of the +river.</p> +<p>His eye was introspective, vacant, his mouth was half open, and +his tongue lolled out so comically that Dick almost laughed aloud. +No one moved by so much as a hand's breadth. The bear dropped back +to his cooling sand with a sigh of voluptuous pleasure. The canoes +drew a little nearer.</p> +<p>Now old Haukemah rose to his height in the bow of his canoe, and +began to speak rapidly in a low voice. Immediately the animal +bobbed into sight again, his wicked little eyes snapping with +intelligence. It took him some moments to determine what these +motionless, bright-coloured objects might be. Then he turned toward +the land, but stopped short as his awakened senses brought him the +reek of the young men who had hemmed in his shoreward escape. He +was not yet thoroughly alarmed, so stood there swaying uneasily +back and forth, after the manner of bears, while Haukemah spoke +swiftly in the soft Cree tongue.</p> +<p>"Oh, makwá, our little brother," he said, "we come to you +not in anger, nor in disrespect. We come to do you a kindness. Here +is hunger and cold and enemies. In the Afterland is only happiness. +So if we shoot you, oh makwá, our little brother, be not +angry with us."</p> +<p>He raised his trade-gun and pulled the trigger. A scattering +volley broke from the other canoes and from the young men concealed +in the bushes.</p> +<p>Now a trade-gun is a gun meant to trade. It is a section of what +looks to be gas-pipe, bound by brass bands to a long, clumsy, +wooden stick that extends within an inch of the end of the barrel. +It is supposed to shoot ball or shot. As a matter of fact the +marksman's success depends more on his luck than his skill. Were it +not for the Woods-Indian's extraordinary powers of still-hunting so +that he can generally approach very near to his game, his success +would be small indeed.</p> +<p>With the shock of a dozen little bullets the bear went down, +snarling and biting and scattering the sand, but was immediately +afoot again. A black bear is not a particularly dangerous beast in +ordinary circumstances—but occasionally he contributes quite +a surprise to the experience of those who encounter him. This bear +was badly wounded and cruelly frightened. His keen sense of smell +informed him that the bushes contained enemies—how many he +did not know, but they were concealed, unknown, and therefore +dreadful. In front of him was something definite. Before the +astonished Indians could back water, he had dashed into the +shallows, and planted his paws on the bow of old Haukemah's +canoe.</p> +<p>A simultaneous cry of alarm burst from the other Indians. Some +began frantically to recharge their muzzle-loading trade-guns; +others dashed toward the spot as rapidly as paddle or moccasin +could bring them. Haukemah himself roused valiantly to the defence, +but was promptly upset and pounced upon by the enraged animal. A +smother of spray enveloped the scene. Dick Herron rose suddenly to +his feet and shot. The bear collapsed into the muddied water, his +head doubled under, a thin stream of arterial blood stringing away +down the current. Haukemah and his steersman rose dripping. A short +pause of silence ensued.</p> +<p>"Well, you are a wonder!" ejaculated Sam Bolton at last. "How in +thunder did you do that? I couldn't make nothing out of <i>that</i> +tangle—at least nothing clear enough to shoot at!"</p> +<p>"Luck," replied Dick, briefly. "I took a snap shot, and happened +to make it."</p> +<p>"You ran mighty big chances of winning old Haukemah," objected +Sam.</p> +<p>"Sure! But I didn't," answered Dick, conclusively.</p> +<p>The Indians gathered to examine in respectful admiration. Dick's +bullet had passed from ear to ear. To them it was wonderful +shooting, as indeed it would have been had it indicated anything +but the most reckless luck. Haukemah was somewhat disgusted at the +wetting of his finery, but the bear is a sacred animal, and even +ceremonial dress and an explanation of the motives that demanded +his death might not be sufficient to appease his divinity. The +women's squadron appeared about the bend, and added their cries of +rejoicing to those of their husbands and brothers.</p> +<p>The beautiful buckskin garments were hastily exchanged for +ordinary apparel. By dint of much wading, tugging, and rolling the +carcass was teased to the dry beach. There the body was securely +anchored by the paws to small trees, and the work of skinning and +butchering began.</p> +<p>Not a shred was wasted. Whatever flesh would not be consumed +within a few days they cut into very thin strips and hung across +poles to dry. Scraps went to the dogs, who were for once well fed. +Three of the older squaws went to work with bone scrapers to tan +the hide. In this season, while the fur was not as long as it would +be later, it was fine and new. The other squaws pitched camp. No +right-minded Indian would dream of travelling further with such a +feast in prospect.</p> +<p>While these things were preparing, the older men cleaned and +washed the bear's skull very carefully. Then they cut a tall pole, +on the end of which they fastened the skull, and finished by +planting the whole affair securely near the running water. When the +skull should have remained there for the space of twelve moons, the +sacred spirit of the departed beast would be appeased. For that +reason Haukemah would not here leave his customary hieroglyphic +record when he should break camp. If an enemy should happen along, +he could do harm to Haukemah simply by overturning the trophy, +whereas an unidentified skull might belong to a friend, and so +would be let alone on the chance. For that reason, too, when they +broke camp the following day, the expert trailers took pains to +obliterate the more characteristic indications of their stay.</p> +<p>Now abruptly the weather changed. The sky became overcast with +low, gray clouds hurrying from the northwest. It grew cold. After a +few hours of indecision it began to rain, dashing the chill water +in savage gusts. Amidships in each canoe the household goods were +protected carefully by means of the wigwam covers, but the people +themselves sat patiently, exposed to the force of the storm. Water +streamed from their hair, over their high cheeks, to drip upon +their already sodden clothing. The buckskin of their moccasins +sucked water like so many sponges. They stepped indifferently in +and out of the river,—for as to their legs, necessarily much +exposed, they could get no wetter—and it was very cold. +Whenever they landed the grass and bushes completed the soaking. By +night each and every member of the band, including the two white +men, were as wet as though they had plunged over-head in the +stream. Only there was this difference: river-water could have been +warmed gradually by the contact of woolen clothes with the body, +but the chill of rain-water was constantly renewed.</p> +<p>Nor was there much comfort in the prospect when, weary and cold, +they finally drew their canoes ashore for the evening's camp. The +forest was dripping, the ground soggy, each separate twig and +branch cold and slippery to the hand. The accumulated water of a +day showered down at the slightest movement. A damp wind seemed to +rise from the earth itself.</p> +<p>Half measures or timid shrinkings would not do. Every one had to +plunge boldly into the woods, had to seize and drag forth, at +whatever cost of shower-bath the wilderness might levy, all the +dead wood he could find. Then the value of the birch-bark envelope +about the powdery touch-wood became evident. The fire, at first +small and steamy, grew each instant. Soon a dozen little blazes +sprang up, only to be extinguished as soon as they had partially +dried the site of wigwams. Hot tea was swallowed gratefully, duffel +hung before the flames. Nobody dried completely, but everybody +steamed, and even in the pouring rain this little warmth was +comfort by force of contrast. The sleeping blankets were damp, the +clothes were damp, the ground was damp, the air was damp; but, +after all, discomfort is a little thing and a temporary, and can be +borne. In the retrospect it is nothing at all. Such is the indian's +philosophy, and that is why in a rain he generally travels instead +of lying in camp.</p> +<p>The storm lasted four days. Then the wind shifted to the north, +bringing clearing skies.</p> +<p>Up to now the river had been swift in places, but always by dint +of tracking or poling the canoes had been forced against the quick +water. Early one forenoon, however, Haukemah lifted carefully the +bow of his canoe and slid it up the bank.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER +SEVEN</h2> +<p>The portage struck promptly to the right through a tall, leafy +woods, swam neck-high in the foliage of small growth, mounted a +steep hill, and meandered over a bowlder-strewn, moss-grown +plateau, to dip again, a quarter of a mile away, to the banks of +the river. But you must not imagine one of your easy portages of +Maine or lower Canada. This trail was faint and dim,—here an +excoriation on the surface of a fallen and half-rotted tree, there +a withered limb hanging, again a mere <i>sense</i> in the forest's +growth that others had passed that way. Only an expert could have +followed it.</p> +<p>The canoe loads were dumped out on the beach. One after another, +even to the little children, the people shouldered their packs. The +long sash was knotted into a loop, which was passed around the pack +and the bearer's forehead. Some of the stronger men carried thus +upward of two hundred pounds.</p> +<p>Unlike a party of white men, the Indians put no system into +their work. They rested when they pleased, chatted, shouted, +squatted on their heels conversing. Yet somehow the task was +accomplished, and quickly. To one on an elevation dominating the +scene it would have been most picturesque. Especially noticeable +were those who for the moment stood idle, generally on heights, +where their muscle-loose attitudes and fluttering draperies added a +strangely decorative note to the landscape; while below plodded, +bending forward under their enormous loads, an unending procession +of patient toilers. In five minutes the portage was alive from one +end to the other.</p> +<p>To Dick and Sam Bolton the traverse was a simple matter. Sam, by +the aid of his voyager's sash, easily carried the supplies and +blankets; Dick fastened the two paddles across the thwarts to form +a neck-yoke, and swung off with the canoe. Then they returned to +the plateau until their savage friends should have finished the +crossing.</p> +<p>Ordinarily white men of this class are welcome enough to travel +with the Indian tribes. Their presence is hardly considered +extraordinary enough for comment. Sam Bolton, however, knew that in +the present instance he and Dick aroused an unusual interest of +some sort.</p> +<p>He was not able to place it to his own satisfaction. It might be +because of Bolton's reputation as a woodsman; it might be because +of Dick Herron's spectacular service to Haukemah in the instance of +the bear; it might be that careful talk had not had its due effect +in convincing the Indians that the journey looked merely to the +establishment of new winter posts; Sam was not disinclined to +attribute it to pernicious activity on the part of the Ojibway. It +might spring from any one of these. Nor could he quite decide its +quality;—whether friendly or inimical. Merely persisted the +fact that he and his companion were watched curiously by the men +and fearfully by the women; that they brought a certain constraint +to the camp fire.</p> +<p>Finally an incident, though it did not decide these points, +brought their ambiguity nearer to the surface.</p> +<p>One evening old Haukemah received from the women the bear's robe +fully tanned. Its inner surface had been whitened and then painted +rudely with a symbolical representation of the hunt. Haukemah spoke +as follows, holding the robe in his hand:</p> +<p>"This is the robe of makwá, our little brother. His flesh +we all ate of. But you who killed him should have his coat. +Therefore my women have painted it because you saved their head +man."</p> +<p>He laid the robe at Dick's feet. Dick glanced toward his +companion with the strange cast flickering quizzically in his +narrow eyes. "Fine thing to carry along on a trip like ours," he +said in English. "<i>I</i> don't know what to do with it. They've +worked on it mighty near a week. I wish to hell they'd keep their +old robe." However, he stooped and touched it in sign of +acceptance. "I thank my brother," he said in Cree.</p> +<p>"You'll have to bring it along," Sam answered in English. "We'll +have to carry it while we're with them, anyway."</p> +<p>The Indian men were squatted on their heels about the fire, +waiting gravely and courteously for this conference, in an unknown +tongue, to come to an end. The women, naturally interested in the +disposal of their handiwork, had drawn just within the circle of +light.</p> +<p>Suddenly Dick, inspired, darted to this group of women, whence +he returned presently half dragging, half-coaxing a young girl. She +came reluctantly, hanging back a little, dropping her head, or with +an embarrassed giggle glancing shyly over her shoulder at her +companions. When near the centre of the men's group, Dick dropped +her hand.</p> +<p>Promptly she made as though to escape, but stopped at a word +from Haukemah. It was May-may-gwán, the Ojibway girl.</p> +<p>Obediently she paused. Her eyes were dancing with the excitement +of the adventure, an almost roguish smile curved her mouth and +dimpled her cheek, her lower lip was tightly clasped between her +teeth as she stood contemplating her heavily beaded little +moccasin, awaiting the explanation of this, to her, extraordinary +performance.</p> +<p>"What is your name, little sister?" asked Dick in Cree.</p> +<p>She dropped her head lower, but glanced from the corner of her +eye at the questioner.</p> +<p>"Answer!" commanded Haukemah.</p> +<p>"May-may-gwán," she replied in a low voice.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes," said Dick, in English. "You're an Ojibway," he went +on in Cree.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"That explains why you're such a tearing little beauty," +muttered the young man, again in English.</p> +<p>"The old-men," he resumed, in Cree, "have given me this robe. +Because I hold it very dear I wish to give it to that people whom I +hold dearest. That people is the Crees of Rupert's House. And +because you are the fairest, I give you this robe so that there may +be peace between your people and me."</p> +<p>Ill-expressed as this little speech was, from the flowery +standpoint of Indian etiquette, nevertheless its subtlety gained +applause. The Indians grunted deep ejaculations of pleasure. "Good +boy!" muttered Sam Bolton, pleased.</p> +<p>Dick lifted the robe and touched it to the girl's hand. She +gasped in surprise, then slowly raised her eyes to his.</p> +<p>"Damn if you ain't pretty enough to kiss!" cried Dick.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="Illustration076" id= +"Illustration076"></a> <a href="images/076.jpg"><img src= +"images/076.jpg" width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"Pretty enough to kiss!" cried Dick</b> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<p>He stepped across the robe, which had fallen between them, +circled the girl's upturned face with the flat of his hands, and +kissed her full on the lips.</p> +<p>The kiss of ceremony is not unknown to the northern Indians, and +even the kiss of affection sometimes to be observed among the more +demonstrative, but such a caress as Dick bestowed on +May-may-gwán filled them with astonishment. The girl +herself, though she cried out, and ran to hide among those of her +own sex, was not displeased; she rather liked it, and could not +mis-read the admiration that had prompted it. Nor did the other +Indians really object. It was a strange thing to do, but perhaps it +was a white man's custom. The affair might have blown away like a +puff of gunpowder.</p> +<p>But at the moment of Dick's salute, Sam Bolton cried out sharply +behind him. The young woodsman instantly whirled to confront the +Chippewa.</p> +<p>"He reached for his knife," explained Sam.</p> +<p>The ejaculation had also called the attention of every member of +the band to the tableau. There could be absolutely no doubt as to +its meaning,—the evident anger of the red, his attitude, his +hand on the haft of his knife. The Chippewa was fairly caught.</p> +<p>He realised the fact, but his quick mind instantly turned the +situation to his profit. Without attempting to alter the malice of +his expression, he nevertheless dropped his hand from his +knife-hilt, and straightened his figure to the grandiose attitude +of the Indian orator.</p> +<p>"This man speaks crooked words. I know the language of the +saganash. He tells my brothers that he gives this robe to +May-may-gwán because he holds it the dearest of his +possessions, and because his heart is good towards my brother's +people. But to the other saganash he said these words: 'It is a +little thing, and I do not wish to carry it. What shall I do with +it?'"</p> +<p>He folded his arms theatrically. Dick Herron, his narrow eyes +blazing, struck him full on the mouth a shoulder blow that sent him +sprawling into the ashes by the fire.</p> +<p>The Chippewa was immediately on his feet, his knife in his hand. +Instinctively the younger Crees drew near to him. The old race +antagonism flashed forth, naturally, without the intervention of +reason. A murmur went up from the other bystanders.</p> +<p>Sam Bolton arose quietly to take his place at Dick's elbow. As +yet there was no danger of violence, except from the outraged +Chippewa. The Crees were startled, but they had not yet taken +sides. All depended on an intrepid front. For a moment they stared +at one another, the Indians uncertain, the Anglo-Saxons, as always, +fiercely dominant in spirit, no matter what the odds against them, +as long as they are opposed to what they consider the inferior +race.</p> +<p>Then a flying figure glided to the two. May-may-gwán, +palpitating with fear, thrust their rifles into the white men's +hands, then took her stand behind them.</p> +<p>But Haukemah interfered with all the weight of his +authority.</p> +<p>"Stop!" he commanded, sharply. "There is no need that friends +should bear weapons. What are you doing, my young men? Do you judge +these saganash without hearing what they have to say? Ask of them +if what the Chippewa says is true."</p> +<p>"The robe is fine. I gave it for the reason I said," replied +Dick.</p> +<p>The Cree young men, shaken from their instinctive opposition, +sank back. It was none of their affair, after all, but a question +of veracity between Dick and his enemy. And the Chippewa enjoyed +none too good a reputation. The swift crisis had passed.</p> +<p>Dick laughed his boyish, reckless laugh.</p> +<p>"Damn if I didn't pick out the old idiot's best girl!" he cried +to his companion; but the latter doubtfully shook his head.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHT" id="CHAPTER_EIGHT"></a>CHAPTER +EIGHT</h2> +<p>When next day the band resumed the journey, it became evident +that May-may-gwán was to be punished for her demonstration +of the night before. Her place in the bow of old Moose Cow's canoe +was taken by a little girl, and she was left to follow as best she +might on foot.</p> +<p>The travel ashore was exceedingly difficult. A dense forest +growth of cedar and tamarack pushed to the very edge of the water, +and the rare open beaches were composed of smooth rocks too small +to afford secure footing, and too large to be trodden under. The +girl either slipped and stumbled on insecure and ankle-twisting +shale, or forced a way through the awful tangle of a swamp. As the +canoeing at this point was not at all difficult, her utmost efforts +could not keep her abreast of the travellers.</p> +<p>Truth to tell May-may-gwán herself did not appear to +consider that she was hardly used. Indeed she let her hair down +about her face, took off the brilliant bits of color that had +adorned her garments, and assumed the regulation downcast attitude +of a penitent. But Dick Herron was indignant.</p> +<p>"Look here, Sam," said he, "this thing ain't right at all. She +got into all this trouble on our account, and we're riding canoe +here slick as carcajou in a pork cache while she pegs along afoot. +Let's take her aboard."</p> +<p>"Won't do," replied Sam, briefly, "can't interfere. Let those +Injuns run themselves. They're more or less down on us as it +is."</p> +<p>"Oh, you're too slow!" objected Dick. "What the hell do we care +for a lot of copper-skins from Rupert's House! We ain't got +anything to ask from them but a few pairs of moccasins, and if they +don't want to make them for us, they can use their buckskin to tie +up their sore heads!"</p> +<p>He thrust his paddle in close to the bow and twisted the canoe +towards shore.</p> +<p>"Come on, Sam," said he, "show your spunk!"</p> +<p>The older man said nothing. His steady blue eyes rested on his +companion's back not unkindly, although a frown knit the brows +above them.</p> +<p>"Come here, little sister," cried Dick to the girl.</p> +<p>She picked her way painfully through the scrub to the edge of +the bank.</p> +<p>"Get into the canoe," commanded Dick.</p> +<p>She drew back in deprecation.</p> +<p>"Ka'-ka'win!" she objected, in very real terror. "The old-men +have commanded that I take the Long Way, and who am I that I should +not obey? It cannot be."</p> +<p>"Get in here," ordered Dick, obstinately.</p> +<p>"My brother is good to me, but I cannot, for the head men have +ordered. It would go very hard with me, if I should disobey."</p> +<p>"Oh, hell!" exploded petulant Dick in English, slamming his +paddle down against the thwarts.</p> +<p>He leaped ashore, picked the girl up bodily, threw her almost +with violence into the canoe, thrust the light craft into the +stream, and resumed his efforts, scowling savagely.</p> +<p>The girl dropped her face in her hands. When the white men's +craft overtook the main band, she crouched still lower, shuddering +under the grim scrutiny of her people. Dick's lofty scorn looked +neither to right nor left, but paddled fiercely ahead until the +Indians were well astern and hidden by the twists of the river. Sam +Bolton proceeded serenely on in his accustomed way.</p> +<p>Only, when the tribesmen had been left behind, he leaned forward +and began to talk to the girl in low-voiced Ojibway, comforting her +with many assurances, as one would comfort a child. After a time +she ceased trembling and looked up. But her glance made no account +of the steady, old man who had so gently led her from her slough of +despond, but rested on the straight, indignant back of the glorious +youth who had cast her into it. And Sam Bolton, knowing the ways of +a maid, merely sighed, and resumed his methodical paddling.</p> +<p>At the noon stop and on portage it was impossible to gauge the +feeling of the savages in regard to the matter, but at night the +sentiment was strongly enough marked. May-may-gwán herself, +much to her surprise, was no further censured, and was permitted to +escape with merely the slights and sneers the women were able to +inflict on her. Perhaps her masters, possessed of an accurate sense +of justice, realised that the latter affair had not been her fault. +Or, what is more likely, their race antagonism, always ready in +these fierce men of the Silent Places, seized instinctively on this +excuse to burst into a definite unfriendliness. The younger men +drew frankly apart. The older made it a point to sit by the white +men's fire, but they conversed formally and with many pauses. Day +by day the feeling intensified. A strong wind had followed from the +north for nearly a week, and so, of course, they had seen no big +game, for the wary animals scented them long before they came in +sight. Meat began to run low. So large a community could not +subsist on the nightly spoils of the net and traps. The continued +ill-luck was attributed to the visitors. Finally camp was made for +a day while Crooked Nose, the best trailer and hunter of them all, +went out to get a caribou. Dick, hoping thus to win a little good +will, lent his Winchester for the occasion.</p> +<p>The Indian walked very carefully through the mossy woods until +he came upon a caribou trail still comparatively fresh. Nobody but +Crooked Nose could have followed the faint indications, but he did +so, at first rapidly, then more warily, finally at a very snail's +pace. His progress was noiseless. Such a difficult result was +accomplished primarily by his quickness of eye in selecting the +spots on which to place his feet, and also to a great extent by the +fact that he held his muscles so pliantly tense that the weight of +his body came down not all at once, but in increasing pressure +until the whole was supported ready for the next step. He +<i>flowed</i> through the woods.</p> +<p>When the trail became fresh he often paused to scrutinise +closely, to smell, even to taste the herbage broken by the animal's +hoofs. Once he startled a jay, but froze into immobility before +that watchman of the woods had sprung his alarm. For full ten +minutes the savage poised motionless. Then the bird flitted away, +and he resumed his careful stalk.</p> +<p>It was already nearly noon. The caribou had been feeding slowly +forward. Now he would lie down. And Crooked Nose knew very well +that the animal would make a little detour to right or left so as +to be able to watch his back track.</p> +<p>Crooked Nose redoubled his scrutiny of the broken herbage. Soon +he left the trail, moving like a spirit, noiselessly, steadily, but +so slowly that it would have required a somewhat extended +observation to convince you that he moved at all. His bead-like +black eyes roved here and there. He did not look for a +caribou—no such fool he—but for a splotch of brown, a +deepening of shadow, a contour of surface which long experience had +taught him could not be due to the forest's ordinary play of light +and shade. After a moment his gaze centred. In the lucent, cool, +green shadow of a thick clump of moose maples he felt rather than +discerned a certain warmth of tone. You and I would probably have +missed the entire shadow. But Crooked Nose knew that the warmth of +tone meant the brown of his quarry's summer coat. He cocked his +rifle.</p> +<p>But a caribou is a large animal, and only a few spots are fatal. +Crooked Nose knew better than to shoot at random. He whistled.</p> +<p>The dark colour dissolved. There were no abrupt movements, no +noises, but suddenly the caribou seemed to develop from the green +shadow mist, to stand, his ears pricked forward, his lustrous eyes +wide, his nostrils quivering toward the unknown something that had +uttered the sound. It was like magic. An animal was now where, a +moment before, none had been.</p> +<p>Crooked Nose raised the rifle, sighted steadily at the shoulder, +low down, and pulled the trigger. A sharp <i>click</i> alone +answered his intention. Accustomed only to the old trade-gun, he +had neglected to throw down and back the lever which should lift +the cartridge from the magazine.</p> +<p>Instantly the caribou snorted aloud and crashed noisily away. A +dozen lurking Canada jays jumped to the tops of spruces and began +to scream. Red squirrels, in all directions, alternately whirred +their rattles and chattered in an ecstasy of rage. The forest was +alarmed.</p> +<p>Crooked Nose glanced at the westering sun, and set out swiftly +in a direct line for the camp of his companions. Arrived there he +marched theatrically to the white men, cast the borrowed rifle at +their feet, and returned to the side of the fire, where he squatted +impassively on his heels. The hunt had failed.</p> +<p>All the rest of the afternoon the men talked sullenly together. +There could be no doubt that trouble was afoot. Toward night some +of the younger members grew so bold as to cast fierce looks in the +direction of the white visitors.</p> +<p>Finally late in the evening old Haukemah came to them. For some +time he sat silent and grave, smoking his pipe, and staring +solemnly into the coals.</p> +<p>"Little Father," said he at last, "you and I are old men. Our +blood is cool. We do not act quickly. But other men are young. +Their blood is hot and swift, and it is quick to bring them +spirit-thoughts<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id= +"FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class= +"fnanchor">[4]</a>. They say you have made the wind, kee-way-din, +the north wind, to blow so that we can have no game. They say you +conjured Crooked Nose so that he brought back no caribou, although +he came very near it. They say, too, that you seek a red man to do +him a harm, and their hearts are evil toward you on that account. +They say you have made the power of the old-men as nothing, for +what they commanded you denied when you brought our little sister +in your canoe. I know nothing of these things, except the last, +which was foolishness in the doing," the old man glanced sharply at +Dick, puffed on his nearly extinguished pipe until it was well +alight, and went on. "My brothers say they are looking places for +winter posts; I believe them. They say their hearts are kind toward +my people; I believe them. Kee-way-din, the north wind, has many +times before blown up the river, and Crooked Nose is a fool. My +heart is good toward you, but it is not the heart of my young men. +They murmur and threaten. Here our trails fork. My brothers must go +now their own way."</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Fancies.</p> +</div> +<p>"Good," replied Sam, after a moment. "I am glad my brother's +heart is good toward me, and I know what young men are. We will go. +Tell your young men."</p> +<p>An expression of relief overspread Haukemah's face. Evidently +the crisis had been more grave than he had acknowledged. He thrust +his hand inside his loose capote and brought forth a small +bundle.</p> +<p>"Moccasins," said he.</p> +<p>Sam looked them over. They were serviceable, strong deerskin, +with high tops of white linen cloth procured at the Factory, +without decoration save for a slender line of silk about the +tongue. Something approaching a smile flickered over old Haukemah's +countenance as he fished out of his side pocket another pair.</p> +<p>"For Eagle-eye," he said, handing them to Dick. The young man +had gained the sobriquet, not because of any remarkable clarity of +vision, but from the peculiar aquiline effect of his narrow +gaze.</p> +<p>The body of the moccasins were made of buckskin as soft as silk, +smoked to a rich umber. The tops were of fawnskin, tanned to milky +white. Where the two parts joined, the edges had been allowed to +fall half over the foot in an exaggerated welt, lined brilliantly +with scarlet silk. The ornamentation was heavy and elaborate. Such +moccasins often consume, in the fashioning, the idle hours of +months. The Indian girl carries them with her everywhere, as her +more civilised sister carries an embroidery frame. On dress +occasions in the Far North a man's standing with his womenkind can +be accurately gauged by the magnificence of his foot-gear.</p> +<p>"The gift of May-may-gwán," explained Haukemah.</p> +<p>"Well, I'll be damned!" said Dick, in English.</p> +<p>"Will my brother be paid in tea or in tobacco?" inquired Sam +Bolton.</p> +<p>Haukemah arose.</p> +<p>"Let these remind you always that my heart is good," said he. "I +may tell my young men that you go?"</p> +<p>"Yes. We are grateful for these."</p> +<p>"Old fellow's a pretty decent sort," remarked Dick, after +Haukemah had stalked away.</p> +<p>"There couldn't anything have happened better for us!" cried +Sam. "Here I was wondering how we could get away. It wouldn't do to +travel with them much longer, and it wouldn't do to quit them +without a good reason. I'm mighty relieved to get shut of them. The +best way over into the Kabinakágam is by way of a little +creek the Injuns call the Mattawishguia, and that ought to be a few +hours ahead of us now." He might have added that all these +annoyances, which he was so carefully discounting, had sprung from +Dick's thoughtlessness; but he was silent, sure of the young man's +value when the field of his usefulness should be reached.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINE" id="CHAPTER_NINE"></a>CHAPTER NINE</h2> +<p>Dick Herron and Sam Bolton sat on the trunk of a fallen tree. It +was dim morning. Through the haze that shrouded the river figures +moved. Occasionally a sharp sound eddied the motionless +silence—a paddle dropped, the prow of a canoe splashed as it +was lifted to the water, the tame crow uttered a squawk. Little by +little the groups dwindled. Invisible canoes were setting out, +beyond the limits of vision. Soon there remained but a few +scattered, cowled figures, the last women hastily loading their +craft that they might not be left behind. Now these, too, thrust +through the gray curtain of fog. The white men were alone.</p> +<p>With the passing of the multitude once again the North came +close. Spying on the deserted camp an hundred smaller woods +creatures fearfully approached, bright-eyed, alert, ready to +retreat, but eager to investigate for scraps of food that might +have been left. Squirrels poised in spruce-trees, leaped boldly +through space, or hurried across little open stretches of ground. +Meat-hawks, their fluffy plumage smoothed to alertness, swooped +here and there. Momentary and hasty scurryings in the dead leaves +attested the presence of other animals, faint chirpings and +rustlings the presence of other birds, following these their most +courageous foragers. In a day the Indian camp would have taken on +the character of the forest; in a month, an ancient ruin, it would +have fitted as accurately with its surroundings as an acorn in the +cup.</p> +<p>Now the twisted vapours drained from among the tree-trunks into +the river bed, where it lay, not more than five feet deep, +accurately marking the course of the stream. The sun struck across +the tops of the trees. A chickadee, upside down in bright-eyed +contemplation, uttered two flute-notes. Instantly a winter-wren, as +though at a signal, went into ecstatic ravings. The North was up +and about her daily business.</p> +<p>Sam Bolton and Dick finally got under way. After an hour they +arrived opposite the mouth of a tributary stream. This Sam +announced as the Mattawishguia. Immediately they turned to it.</p> +<p>The Mattawishguia would be variously described; in California as +a river, in New England as a brook, in Superior country as a trout +stream. It is an hundred feet wide, full of rapids, almost all fast +water, and, except in a few still pools, from a foot to two feet +deep. The bottom is of round stones.</p> +<p>Travel by canoe in such a stream is a farce. The water is too +fast to pole against successfully more than half the time; the +banks are too overgrown for tracking with the tow-line. About the +only system is to get there in the best way possible. Usually this +meant that Dick waded at the bow and Sam at the stern, leaning +strongly against the current. Bowlders of all sorts harassed the +free passage, stones rolled under the feet, holes of striking +unexpectedness lay in wait, and the water was icy cold. Once in a +while they were able to paddle a few hundred feet. Then both +usually sat astride the ends of the canoe, their legs hanging in +the water in order that the drippings might not fall inside. As +this was the early summer, they occasionally kicked against trees +to drive enough of the numbness from their legs so that they could +feel the bottom.</p> +<p>It was hard work and cold work and wearing, for it demanded its +exact toll for each mile, and was as insistent for the effort at +weary night as at fresh morning.</p> +<p>Dick, in the vigour of his young strength, seemed to like it. +The leisure of travel with the Indians had barely stretched his +muscles. Here was something against which he could exert his utmost +force. He rejoiced in it, taking great lungfuls of air, bending his +shoulders, breaking through these outer defences of the North with +wanton exuberance, blind to everything, deaf to everything, +oblivious of all other mental and physical sensations except the +delight of applying his skill and strength to the subduing of the +stream.</p> +<p>But Sam, patient, uncomplaining, enduring, retained still the +broader outlook. He, too, fought the water and the cold, adequately +and strongly, but it was with the unconsciousness of long habit. +His mind recognised the Forest as well as the Stream. The great +physical thrill over the poise between perfect health and the +opposing of difficulties he had left behind him with his youth; as +indeed he had, in a lesser sense, gained with his age an +indifference to discomfort. He was cognisant of the stillness of +the woods, the presence of the birds and beasts, the thousand +subtleties that make up the personality of the great forest.</p> +<p>And with the strange sixth sense of the accustomed woodsman Sam +felt, as they travelled, that something was wrong. The impression +did not come to him through any of the accustomed channels. In +fact, it hardly reached his intellect as yet. Through long years +his intuitions had adapted themselves to their environment. The +subtle influences the forest always disengaged found in the +delicately attuned fibres of his being that which vibrated in +unison with them. Now this adjustment was in some way disturbed. To +Sam Bolton the forest was <i>different</i>, and this made him +uneasy without his knowing why. From time to time he stopped +suddenly, every nerve quivering, his nostrils wide, like some wild +thing alert for danger. And always the other five senses, on which +his mind depended, denied the sixth. Nothing stirred but the +creatures of the wilderness.</p> +<p>Yet always the impression persisted. It was easily put to +flight, and yet it always returned. Twice, while Dick rested in the +comfort of tobacco, Sam made long detours back through the woods, +looking for something, he knew not what; uneasy, he knew not why. +Always he found the forest empty. Everything, well ordered, was in +its accustomed place. He returned to the canoe, shaking his head, +unable to rid himself of the sensation of something foreign to the +established order of things.</p> +<p>At noon the men drew ashore on a little point of rock. There +they boiled tea over a small fire, and ate the last of their +pilot's bread, together with bacon and the cold meat of partridges. +By now the sun was high and the air warm. Tepid odours breathed +from the forest, and the songs of familiar homely birds. Little +heated breezes puffed against the travellers' cheeks. In the sun's +rays their garments steamed and their muscles limbered.</p> +<p>Yet even here Sam Bolton was unable to share the relaxation of +mind and body his companion so absolutely enjoyed. Twice he paused, +food suspended, his mouth open, to listen intently for a moment, +then to finish carrying his hand to his mouth with the groping of +vague perplexity. Once he arose to another of his purposeless +circles through the woods. Dick paid no attention to these things. +In the face of danger his faculties would be as keenly on the +stretch as his comrade's; but now, the question one merely of +difficult travel, the responsibility delegated to another, he +bothered his head not at all, but like a good lieutenant left +everything to his captain, half closed his eyes, and watched the +smoke curl from his brier pipe.</p> +<p>When evening fell the little fish-net was stretched below a +chute of water, the traps set, snares laid. As long as these means +sufficed for a food supply, the ammunition would be saved. Wet +clothes were hung at a respectful distance from the blaze.</p> +<p>Sam was up and down all night, uncomfortable, indefinitely +groping for the influence that unsettled his peace of mind. The +ghost shadows in the pines; the pattering of mysterious feet; the +cries, loud and distant, or faint and near; the whisperings, +whistlings, sighings, or crashes; all the thousand ethereal +essences of day-time noises that go to make up the Night and her +silences—these he knew. What he did not know, could not +understand, was within himself. What he sought was that thing in +Nature which should correspond.</p> +<p>The next day at noon he returned to Dick after a more than +usually long excursion, carrying some object. He laid it before his +companion. The object proved to be a flat stone; and on the flat +stone was the wet print of a moccasin.</p> +<p>"We're followed," he said, briefly.</p> +<p>Dick seized the stone and examined it closely.</p> +<p>"It's too blurred," he said, at last; "I can't make it out. But +th' man who made that track wasn't far off. Couldn't you make trail +of him? He must have been between you an' me when you found this +rock."</p> +<p>"No," Sam demurred, "he wasn't. This moccasin was pointed down +stream. He heard me, and went right on down with th' current. He's +sticking to the water all the way so as to leave no trail."</p> +<p>"No use trying to follow an Injun who knows you're after him," +agreed Dick.</p> +<p>"It's that Chippewa, of course," proffered Sam. "I always was +doubtful of him. Now he's followin' us to see what we're up to. +Then, he ain't any too friendly to you, Dick, 'count of that scrap +and th' girl. But I don't think that's what he's up to—not +yet, at least. I believe he's some sort of friend or kin of that +Jingoss, an' he wants to make sure that we're after him."</p> +<p>"Why don't he just ambush us, then, an' be done with it?" asked +Dick.</p> +<p>"Two to one," surmised Bolton, laconically. "He's only got a +trade-gun—one shot. But more likely he thinks it ain't going +to do him much good to lay us out. More men would be sent. If th' +Company's really after Jingoss, the only safe thing for him is a +warning. But his friend don't want to get him out of th' country on +a false alarm."</p> +<p>"That's so," said Dick.</p> +<p>They talked over the situation, and what was best to be +done.</p> +<p>"He don't know yet that we've discovered him," submitted Sam. +"My scouting around looked like huntin', and he couldn't a seen me +pick up that stone. We better not try to catch him till we can make +<i>sure</i>. He's got to camp somewheres. We'll wait till night. Of +course he'll get away from th' stream, and he'll cover his trail. +Still, they's a moon. I don't believe anybody could do it but you, +Dick. If you don't make her, why there ain't nothing lost. We'll +just have to camp down here an' go to trapping until he gets sick +of hanging around."</p> +<p>So it was agreed. Dick, under stress of danger, was now a +changed man. What he lacked in experience and the power to +synthesise, he more than made up in the perfection of his senses +and a certain natural instinct of the woods. He was a better +trailer than Sam, his eyesight was keener, his hearing more acute, +his sense of smell finer, his every nerve alive and tingling in +vibrant unison with the life about him. Where Sam laboriously +arrived by the aid of his forty years' knowledge, the younger man +leaped by the swift indirection of an Indian—or a woman. Had +he only possessed, as did Bolton, a keen brain as well as keen +higher instincts, he would have been marvellous.</p> +<p>The old man sat near the camp-fire after dark that night sure +that Herron was even then conducting the affair better than he +could have done himself. He had confidence. No faintest +indication,—even in the uncertainty of moonlight through the +trees,—that a man had left the river would escape the young +man's minute inspection. And in the search no twig would snap under +those soft-moccasined feet; no betraying motion of brush or brake +warn the man he sought. Dick's woodcraft of that sort was absolute; +just as Sam Bolton's woodcraft also was absolute—of its sort. +It might be long, but the result was certain,—unless the +Indian himself suspected.</p> +<p>Dick had taken his rifle.</p> +<p>"You know," Sam reminded him, significantly, "we don't really +need that Injun."</p> +<p>"I know," Dick had replied, grimly.</p> +<p>Now Sam Bolton sat near the fire waiting for the sound of a +shot. From time to time he spread his gnarled, carved-mahogany +hands to the blaze. Under his narrow hat his kindly gray-blue eyes, +wrinkled at the corners with speculation and good humour, gazed +unblinking into the light. As always he smoked.</p> +<p>Time went on. The moon climbed, then descended again. Finally it +shone almost horizontally through the tree-trunks, growing larger +and larger until its field was crackled across with a frostwork of +twigs and leaves. By and by it reached the edge of a hill-bank, +visible through an opening, and paused. It had become huge, +gigantic, big with mystery. A wolf sat directly before it, +silhouetted sharply. Presently he raised his pointed nose, howling +mournfully across the waste.</p> +<p>The fire died down to coals. Sam piled on fresh wood. It hissed +spitefully, smoked voluminously, then leaped into flame. The old +woodsman sat as though carved from patience, waiting calmly the +issue.</p> +<p>Then through the shadows, dancing ever more gigantic as they +became more distant, Sam Bolton caught the solidity of something +moving. The object was as yet indefinite, mysterious, flashing +momentarily into view and into eclipse as the tree-trunks +intervened or the shadows flickered. The woodsman did not stir; +only his eyes narrowed with attention. Then a branch snapped, +noisy, carelessly broken. Sam's expectancy flagged. Whoever it was +did not care to hide his approach.</p> +<p>But in a moment the watcher could make out that the figures were +two; one erect and dominant, the other stooping in surrender. Sam +could not understand. A prisoner would be awkward. But he waited +without a motion, without apparent interest, in the indifferent +attitude of the woods-runner.</p> +<p>Now the two neared the outer circle of light; they stepped +within it; they stopped at the fire's edge. Sam Bolton looked up +straight into the face of Dick's prisoner.</p> +<p>It was May-may-gwán, the Ojibway girl.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TEN" id="CHAPTER_TEN"></a>CHAPTER TEN</h2> +<p>Dick pulled the girl roughly to the fireside, where he dropped +her arm, leaving her downcast and submissive. He was angry all +through with the powerless rage of the man whose attentions a woman +has taken more seriously than he had intended. Suddenly he was +involved more deeply than he had meant.</p> +<p>"Well, what do you think of that?" he cried.</p> +<p>"What you doing here?" asked Sam in Ojibway, although he knew +what the answer would be.</p> +<p>She did not reply, however.</p> +<p>"Hell!" burst out Dick.</p> +<p>"Well, keep your hair on," advised Sam Bolton, with a grin. "You +shouldn't be so attractive, Dicky."</p> +<p>The latter growled.</p> +<p>"Now you've got her, what you going to do with her?" pursued the +older man.</p> +<p>"Do with her?" exploded Dick; "what in hell do you mean? I don't +want her; she's none of my funeral. She's got to go back, of +course."</p> +<p>"Oh, sure!" agreed Sam. "She's got to go back. Sure thing! It's +only two days down stream, and then the Crees would have only four +days' start and getting farther every minute. A mere ten days in +the woods without an outfit. Too easy; especially for a woman. But +of course you'll give her your outfit, Dick."</p> +<p>He mused, gazing into the flames, his eyes droll over this new +complication introduced by his thoughtless comrade.</p> +<p>"Well, we can't have her with us," objected Dick, obstinately. +"She'd hinder us, and bother us, and get in our way, and we'd have +to feed her—we may have to starve ourselves;—and she's +no damn <i>use</i> to us. She can't go. I won't have it; I didn't +bargain to lug a lot of squaws around on this trip. She came; I +didn't ask her to. Let her get out of it the best way she can. +She's an Injun. She can make it all right through the woods. And if +she has a hard time, she <i>ought</i> to."</p> +<p>"Nice mess, isn't it, Dick?" grinned the other.</p> +<p>"No mess about it. I haven't anything to do with such a fool +trick. What did she expect to gain tagging us through the woods +that way half a mile to the rear? She was just waiting 'till we got +so far away from th' Crees that we couldn't send her back. I'll +fool her on that, damn her!" He kicked a log back into place, +sending the sparks eddying.</p> +<p>"I wonder if she's had anything to eat lately?" said Bolton.</p> +<p>"I don't care a damn whether she has or not," said Dick.</p> +<p>"Keep your hair on, my son," advised Sam again. "You're hot +because you thought you'd got shut of th' whole affair, and now you +find you haven't."</p> +<p>"You make me sick," commented Dick.</p> +<p>"Mebbe," admitted the woodsman. He fell silent, staring straight +before him, emitting short puffs from his pipe. The girl stood +where she had been thrust.</p> +<p>"I'll start her back in the morning," proffered Dick after a few +moments. Then, as this elicited no remark, "We can stock her up +with jerky, and there's no reason she shouldn't make it." Sam +remained grimly silent. "Is there?" insisted Dick. He waited a +minute for a reply. Then, as none came, "Hell!" he exclaimed, +disgustedly, and turned away to sit on a log the other side of the +fire with all the petulance of a child.</p> +<p>"Now look here, Sam," he broke out, after an interval. "We might +as well get at this thing straight. We can't keep her with us, now, +can we?"</p> +<p>Sam removed his pipe, blew a cloud straight before him, and +replaced it.</p> +<p>Dick reddened slowly, got up with an incidental remark about +damn fools, and began to spread his blankets beneath the lean-to +shelter. He muttered to himself, angered at the dead opposition of +circumstance which he could not push aside. Suddenly he seized the +girl again by the arm.</p> +<p>"Why you come?" he demanded in Ojibway. "Where you get your +blankets? Where you get your grub? How you make the Long Trail? +What you do when we go far and fast? What we do with you now?" Then +meeting nothing but the stolidity with which the Indian always +conceals pain, he flung her aside. "Stupid owl!" he growled.</p> +<p>He sat on the ground and began to take off his moccasins with +ostentatious deliberation, abruptly indifferent to it all. Slowly +he prepared for the night, yawning often, looking at the sky, +arranging the fire, emphasising and delaying each of his movements +as though to prove to himself that he acknowledged only the +habitual. At last he turned in, his shoulder thrust aggressively +toward the two motionless figures by the fire.</p> +<p>It was by now close to midnight. The big moon had long since +slipped from behind the solitary wolf on the hill. Yet Sam Bolton +made no move toward his blankets, and the girl did not stir from +the downcast attitude into which she had first fallen. The old +woodsman looked at the situation with steady eyes. He realised to +the full what Dick Herron's thoughtlessness had brought on them. A +woman, even a savage woman inured to the wilderness, was a +hindrance. She could not travel as fast nor as far; she could not +bear the same burdens, endure the same hardship; she would consume +her share of the provisions. And before this expedition into the +Silent Places should be finished the journeying might require the +speed of a course after quarry, the packing would come finally to +the men's back, the winter would have to be met in the open, and +the North, lavish during these summer months, sold her sustenance +dear when the snows fell. The time might come when these men would +have to arm for the struggle. Cruelty, harshness, relentlessness, +selfishness, singleness of purpose, hardness of heart they would +have perforce to assume. And when they stripped for such a +struggle, Sam Bolton knew that among other things this woman would +have to go. If the need arose, she would have to die; for this +quest was greater than the life of any woman or any man. Would it +not be better to send her back through certain hardship now, rather +than carry her on to a possible death in the White Silence. For the +North as yet but skirmished. Her true power lay behind the snows +and the ice.</p> +<p>The girl stood in the same attitude. Sam Bolton spoke to +her.</p> +<p>"May-may-gwán."</p> +<p>"Little Father."</p> +<p>"Why have you followed us?"</p> +<p>The girl did not reply.</p> +<p>"Sister," said the woodsman, kindly, "I am an old man. You have +called me Father. Why have you followed us?"</p> +<p>"I found Jibiwánisi good in my sight," she said, with a +simple dignity, "and he looked on me."</p> +<p>"It was a foolish thing to do."</p> +<p>"Ae," replied the girl.</p> +<p>"He does not wish to take you in his wigwam."</p> +<p>"Eagle-eye is angry now. Anger melts under the sun."</p> +<p>"I do not think his will."</p> +<p>"Then I will make his fire and his buckskin and cook his +food."</p> +<p>"We go on a long journey."</p> +<p>"I will follow."</p> +<p>"No," replied the woodsman, abruptly, "we will send you +back."</p> +<p>The girl remained silent.</p> +<p>"Well?" insisted Bolton.</p> +<p>"I shall not go."</p> +<p>A little puzzled at this insistence, delivered in so calm a +manner, Sam hesitated as to what to say. Suddenly the girl stepped +forward to face him.</p> +<p>"Little Father," she said, solemnly, "I cannot go. Those are not +my people. I do not know my people. My heart is not with them. My +heart is here. Little Father," she went on, dropping her voice, "it +is here, here, here!" she clasped her breast with both hands. "I do +not know how it is. There is a pain in my breast, and my heart is +sad with the words of Eagle-eye. And yet here the birds sing and +the sun is bright. Away from here it is dark. That is all I know. I +do not understand it, Little Father. My heart is here. I cannot go +away. If you drive me out, I shall follow. Kill me, if you wish, +Little Father; I do not care for that. I shall not hinder you on +the Long Trail. I shall do many things. When I cannot travel fast +enough, then leave me. My heart is here; I cannot go away." She +stopped abruptly, her eyes glowing, her breath short with the +quivering of passion. Then all at once her passivity fell on her. +She stood, her head downcast, patient, enduring, bending to +circumstance meekly as an Indian woman should.</p> +<p>Sam Bolton made no reply to this appeal. He drew his +sheath-knife, cut in two the doubled three-point blanket, gave one +of the halves to the girl, and indicated to her a place under the +shelter. In the firelight his face hardened as he cast his mind +again over the future. He had not solved the problem, only +postponed it. In the great struggle women would have no place.</p> +<p>At two o'clock, waking in the manner of woodsmen and sailors the +world over, he arose to replenish the fire. He found it already +bright with new fuel, and the Indian girl awake. She lay on her +side, the blanket about her shoulders, her great wistful eyes wide +open. A flame shot into the air. It threw a momentary illumination +into the angles of the shelter, discovering Dick, asleep in heavy +exhaustion, his right forearm across his eyes. The girl stole a +glance at Sam Bolton. Apparently he was busy with the fire. She +reached out to touch the young man's blanket.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ELEVEN" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN"></a>CHAPTER +ELEVEN</h2> +<p>Dick was afoot after a few hours' sleep. He aroused Sam and went +about the preparation of breakfast. May-may-gwán attempted +to help, but both she and her efforts were disregarded. She brought +wood, but Dick rustled a supply just the same, paying no attention +to the girl's little pile; she put on fresh fuel, but Dick, without +impatience,—indeed, as though he were merely rearranging the +fire,—contrived to undo her work; she brought to hand the +utensils, but Dick, in searching for them, always looked where they +had originally been placed. His object seemed not so much to thwart +the girl as to ignore her. When breakfast was ready he divided it +into two portions, one of which he ate. After the meal he washed +the few dishes. Once he took a cup from the girl's hand as she was +drying it, much as he would have taken it from the top of a stump. +He then proceeded to clean it as though it had just been used.</p> +<p>May-may-gwán made no sign that she noticed these things. +After a little she helped Sam roll the blankets, strike the +shelter, construct the packs. Here her assistance was accepted, +though Sam did not address her. After a few moments the start was +made.</p> +<p>The first few hours were spent as before, wading the stream. As +she could do nothing in the water, May-may-gwán kept to the +woods, walking stolidly onward, her face to the front, +expressionless, hiding whatever pain she may have felt. This side +of noon, however, the travellers came to a cataract falling over a +fifty-foot ledge into a long, cliff-bordered pool.</p> +<p>It became necessary to portage. The hill pinched down steep and +close. There existed no trails. Dick took the little camp axe to +find a way. He clambered up one after the other three +ravines—grown with brush and heavy ferns, damp with a trickle +of water,—always to be stopped near the summit by a blank +wall impossible to scale. At length he found a passage he thought +might be practicable. Thereupon he cut a canoe trail back to the +water-side.</p> +<p>In clearing this trail his attention turned to making room for a +canoe on a man's back. Therefore the footing he bothered with not +at all. Saplings he clipped down by bending them with the left +hand, and striking at the strained fibres where they bowed. A +single blow would thus fell treelets of some size. When he had +finished his work there resulted a winding, cylindrical hole in the +forest growth some three feet from the ground. Through this +cylinder the canoe would be passed while its bearer picked a +practised way among slippery rocks, old stubs, new sapling stumps, +and undergrowth below. Men who might, in later years, wish to +follow this Indian trail, would look not for footprints but for +waist-high indications of the axe.</p> +<p>When the canoe had been carried to the top of the bluff that +marked the water-fall, it was relaunched in a pool. In the meantime +May-may-gwán, who had at last found a use for her +willingness, carried the packs. Dick re-embarked. His companion +perceived that he intended to shove off as soon as the other should +have taken his place. Sam frustrated that, however, by holding fast +to the gunwale. May-may-gwán stepped in amidships, with a +half-deprecating glance at the young man's inscrutable back. At the +end of the brief paddling the upper pool allowed them, she was +first ashore.</p> +<p>Late that afternoon the travel for a half mile became +exceedingly difficult. The stream took on the character of a +mountain brook. It hardly paid to float the canoe in the tiny holes +among the rocks, miniature cascades, and tortuous passages. The +forest grew to the very banks, and arched over to exclude the sun. +Every few feet was to be avoided a tree, half clinging to the bank, +leaning at a perilous slant out over the creek. Fortunately the +spring freshets in this country of the great snows were powerful +enough to sweep out the timber actually fallen, so the course of +the stream itself was clear of jams. At length the travellers +reached a beaver-dam, and so to a little round lake among the +hills. They had come to the head waters of the Mattawishguia.</p> +<p>In the lake stood two moose, old and young. Dick succeeded in +killing the yearling, though it took two shots from his Winchester. +It was decided to camp here over one day in order that the meat +might be saved.</p> +<p>A circle of hills surrounded the little body of water. On them +grew maples and birches, among which scattered a few hemlocks and +an occasional pine. At the edge of the water were cedars leaning +out to look at their reflections. A deep and solemn peace seemed to +brood over the miniature lake. Such affairs as bird songs, the slap +of a paddle, the shots from Dick's rifle could not break this +strange stillness. They spoke hastily, and relapsed to silence, +like the rare necessary voices in a room where one lies dead. The +hush, calm and primal, with the infinity of the wilderness as its +only measure of time, took no account of the shock of a second's +interruption. Two loons swam like ghosts. Everywhere and nowhere +among the trees, in the hills, over the water, the finer senses +were almost uneasily conscious of a vast and awful presence. It was +as yet aloof, unheeding, buddhistic, brooding in nirvanic calm, +still unawakened to put forth the might of its displeasure. Under +its dreaming eyes men might, fearfully and with reverence, carry on +their affairs,—fearfully and with reverence, catching the +breath, speaking low, growing silent and stern in the presence of +the North.</p> +<p>At the little camp under the cedars, Dick Herron and Sam Bolton, +assisted by the Ojibway girl, May-may-gwán, cut the +moose-meat into thin strips, salted, and dried it in the bright +sun. And since the presence of loons argued fish, they set their +nets and lines. Several days thus passed.</p> +<p>In their relations the three promptly settled back into a +species of routine. Men who travel in the Silent Places speedily +take on the colour of their surroundings. They become silent also. +A band of voyageurs of sufficient strength may chatter and sing; +they have by the very force of numbers created an atmosphere of +their own. But two are not enough for this. They have little to +say, for their souls are laved by the great natural forces.</p> +<p>Dick Herron, even in ordinary circumstances, withdrew rather +grimly into himself. He looked out at things from beneath knit +brows; he held his elbows close to his sides, his fists clenched, +his whole spiritual being self-contained and apart, watchful for +enmity in what he felt but could not understand. But to this, his +normal habit, now was added a sullenness almost equally +instinctive. In some way he felt himself aggrieved by the girl's +presence. At first it was merely the natural revolt of a very young +man against assuming responsibility he had not invited. The +resulting discomfort of mind, however, he speedily assigned to the +girl's account. He continued, as at first, to ignore her. But in +the slow rumination of the forest he became more and more irritably +sensible of her presence. Sam's taciturnity was contrastedly sunny +and open. He looked on things about him with the placid receptivity +of an old man, and said nothing because there was nothing to say. +The Ojibway girl remained inscrutable, helping where she could, +apparently desirous of neither praise nor blame.</p> +<p>At the end of three days the provisions were ready. There had +resulted perhaps sixty pounds of "jerky." It now became necessary +to leave the water-way, and to strike directly through the forest, +over the hills, and into the country of the Kabinikágam.</p> +<p>Dick shouldered a thirty-pound pack and the canoe. Sam Bolton +and the girl managed the remainder. Every twenty minutes or so they +would rest, sinking back against the trunks of trees, mossy stones, +or a bank of new ferns. The forest was open and inexpressibly +lofty. Moose maples, young birches, and beeches threw their +coolness across the face, then above them the columns of the +trunks, then far up in green distance the leaves again, like the +gold-set roof of a church. The hill mounted always before them. +Ancient rocks hoary with moss, redolent of dampness, stood like +abandoned altars given over to decay. A strange, sweet wind +freighted with stray bird-notes wandered aimlessly.</p> +<p>Nothing was said. Dick led the way and set the intervals of the +carrying. When he swung the canoe from his shoulders the others +slipped their tump-lines. Then all rubbed their faces with the +broad caribou-leaf to keep off the early flies, and lay back, arms +extended, breathing deep, resting like boxers between the rounds. +Once at the top of the ridge Dick climbed a tree. He did this, not +so much in expectation of seeing the water-courses themselves, as +to judge by the general lay of the country where they might be +found.</p> +<p>In a bare open space under hemlocks Sam indicated a narrow, +high, little pen, perhaps three feet long by six inches wide, made +of cut saplings. Dick examined it.</p> +<p>"Marten deadfall," he pronounced. "Made last winter. Somebody's +been trapping through here."</p> +<p>After a time a blaze on a tree was similarly remarked. Then the +travellers came to a tiny creek, which, being followed, soon +debouched into a larger. This in turn became navigable, after the +north-country fashion. That is to say, the canoe with its load +could much of the time be floated down by the men wading in the bed +of the creek. Finally Sam, who was in the lead, jerked his head +toward the left bank.</p> +<p>"Their winter camp," said he, briefly.</p> +<p>A dim trail led from the water to a sheltered knoll. There stood +the framework of a pointed tepee, the long poles spread like +fingers above their crossing point. A little pile of gnawed white +skulls of various sizes represented at least a portion of the +season's catch. Dick turned them over with his foot, identifying +them idly. From the sheltered branches of a near-by spruce hung +four pairs of snow-shoes cached there until the next winter. Sam +gave his first attention to these.</p> +<p>"A man, a woman, and two well-grown children," he pronounced. He +ran his hand over the bulging raquette with the long tail and the +slightly up-curved end. "Ojibway pattern," he concluded. "Dick, +we're in the first hunting district. Here's where we get down to +business."</p> +<p>He went over the ground twice carefully, examining the state of +the offal, the indications of the last fire.</p> +<p>"They've been gone about six weeks," he surmised. "If they ain't +gone visiting, they must be down-stream somewheres. These fellows +don't get in to trade their fur 'till along about August."</p> +<p>Two days subsequent, late in the afternoon, Dick pointed out +what looked to be a dark streak beneath a bowlder that lay some +distance from the banks on a shale bar.</p> +<p>"What's that animal?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Can't make her out," said Bolton, after inspection.</p> +<p>"Ninny-moosh," said the Indian girl, indifferently. It was the +first word she had spoken since her talk with the older man.</p> +<p>"It's a dog, all right," conceded Sam. "She has sharp eyes."</p> +<p>The animal rose and began to bark. Two more crashed toward him +through the bushes. A thin stream of smoke disengaged itself from +the tops of the forest trees. As they swept around the bend, the +travellers saw a man contemplating them stolidly through a screen +of leaves.</p> +<p>The canoe floated on. About an hundred yards below the Indians +Sam ordered a landing. Camp was made as usual. Supper was cooked. +The fire replenished. Then, just before the late sunset of the Far +North, the bushes crackled.</p> +<p>"Now let me do the talking," warned Sam.</p> +<p>"All right. I'll just keep my eye on this," Dick nodded toward +the girl. "She's Ojibway, too, you know. She may give us away."</p> +<p>"She can't only guess," Sam reminded. "But there ain't any +danger, anyway."</p> +<p>The leaves parted. The Indian appeared, sauntering with +elaborate carelessness, his beady eyes shifting here and there in +an attempt to gather what these people might be about.</p> +<p>"Bo' jou', bo' jou'," he greeted them.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWELVE" id="CHAPTER_TWELVE"></a>CHAPTER +TWELVE</h2> +<p>The Indian advanced silently to the fireside, where he squatted +on his heels. He filled a pipe, scraping the tobacco from the +square plug Sam extended to him. While he did this, and while he +stuffed it into the bowl, his keen eyes shifted here and there, +gathering the material for conclusions.</p> +<p>Sam, watchful but also silent, could almost follow his mental +processes. The canoe meant travel, the meagreness of the outfits +either rapid or short travel, the two steel traps travel beyond the +sources of supply. Then inspection passed lightly over the girl and +from her to the younger man. With a flash of illumination Sam +Bolton saw how valuable in allaying suspicion this evidence of a +peaceful errand might prove to be. Men did not bring their women on +important missions involving speed and danger.</p> +<p>Abruptly the Indian spoke, going directly to the heart of the +matter, after the Indian fashion.</p> +<p>"Where you from?"</p> +<p>"Winnipeg," replied Sam, naming the headquarters of the +Company.</p> +<p>The direction of travel was toward Winnipeg. Sam was perfectly +aware of the discrepancy, but he knew better than to offer +gratuitous explanation. The Indian smoked.</p> +<p>"Where you come from now?" he inquired, finally.</p> +<p>"Tschi-gammi<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id= +"FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class= +"fnanchor">[5]</a>."</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Lake +Superior.</p> +</div> +<p>This was understandable. Remained only the object of an +expedition of this peculiar character. Sam Bolton knew that the +Indian would satisfy himself by surmises,—he would never +apply the direct question to a man's affairs,—and surmise +might come dangerously near the truth. So he proceeded to impart a +little information in his own way.</p> +<p>"You are the hunter of this district?" Sam asked.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"How far do you trap?"</p> +<p>The Indian mentioned creeks and rivers as his boundaries.</p> +<p>"Where do you get your debt?"</p> +<p>"Missináibi."</p> +<p>"That is a long trail."</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Do many take it each year?"</p> +<p>The Indian mentioned rapidly a dozen names of families.</p> +<p>Sam at once took another tack.</p> +<p>"I do not know this country. Are there large lakes?"</p> +<p>"There is Animiki."</p> +<p>"Has it fish? Good wood?"</p> +<p>"Much wood. Ogâ<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id= +"FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class= +"fnanchor">[6]</a>, kinoj<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id= +"FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class= +"fnanchor">[7]</a>."</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Pickerel.</p> +</div> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Pike.</p> +</div> +<p>Sam paused.</p> +<p>"Could a <i>brigade</i> of canoes reach it easily?" he +inquired.</p> +<p>Now a <i>brigade</i> is distinctly an institution of the +Honourable the Hudson's Bay Company. It is used for two purposes; +to maintain communication with the outside world, and to establish +winter camps in the autumn or to break them up in the spring. At +once the situation became clear. A gleam of comprehension flashed +over the Indian's eyes. With the peculiar attention to detail +distinctively the forest runner's he indicated a route. Sam was +satisfied to let the matter rest there for the present.</p> +<p>The next evening he visited the Indian's camp. It was made under +a spreading tree, the tepee poles partly resting against some of +the lower branches. The squaw and her woman child kept to the +shadows of the wigwam, but the boy, a youth of perhaps fifteen +years, joined the men by the fire.</p> +<p>Sam accepted the hospitality of a pipe of tobacco, and attacked +the question in hand from a ground tacitly assumed since the +evening before.</p> +<p>"If Hutsonbaycompany make winterpost on Animiki will you get +your debt there instead of Missináibie?" he asked first of +all.</p> +<p>Of course the Indian assented.</p> +<p>"How much fur do you get, good year?"</p> +<p>The Indian rapidly ran over a list.</p> +<p>"Lots of fur. Is it going to last? Do you keep district strict +here?" inquired Sam.</p> +<p>Under cover of this question Sam was feeling for important +information. As has perhaps been mentioned, in a normal Indian +community each head of a family is assigned certain hunting +districts over which he has exclusive hunting and trapping +privileges. This naturally tends toward preservation of the fur. An +Indian knows not only where each beaver dam is situated, but he +knows also the number of beaver it contains and how many can be +taken without diminution of the supply. If, however, the privileges +are not strictly guarded, such moderation does not obtain. When an +Indian finds a dam, he cleans it out; because if he does not, the +next comer will. Sam's question then apparently had reference only +to the probability that the fur in a close district would be +strictly enough preserved to make the establishment of a winter +post worth while. In reality he wanted to measure the possibility +of an outsider's gaining a foothold. Logically in a section where +the tribal rights were rigidly held to, this would be impossible +except through friendship or purchase; while in a more loosely +organized community a stranger might readily insinuate himself.</p> +<p>"Good keeping of district," replied the Indian. "I keep +head-waters of Kabinikágam down to Sand River. When I find +man trapping on my ground, I shoot him. Fur last all right."</p> +<p>This sufficed for the moment. The next morning Sam went over +early to the other camp.</p> +<p>"To-day I think we go," he announced. "Now you tell me all the +hunters, where I find them, what are their districts, how much fur +they kill."</p> +<p>"Ah hah!" assented the Indian. Sam's leisurely and indirect +method had convinced him. Easily given information on the other +hand would have set him to thinking; and to think, with an Indian, +is usually to become suspicious.</p> +<p>The two descended to the shore. There they squatted on their +heels before a little patch of wet sand while the Indian explained. +He marked roughly, but with almost the accuracy of a survey, the +courses of streams and hills, and told of the routes among them. +Sam listened, his gnarled mahogany hand across his mouth, his +shrewd gray eyes bent attentively on the cabalistic signs and +scratches. An Indian will remember, from once traversing it, not +only the greater landmarks, but the little incidents of bowlder, +current, eddy, strip of woods, bend of trail. It remains clear-cut +in his mind forever after. The old woodsman had in his long +experience acquired something of this faculty. He comprehended the +details, and, what is more, stored them away in his memory where he +could turn to them readily. This was no small feat.</p> +<p>With an abrupt movement of the back of his hand the Indian +smoothed the sand. Squatting back more on his haunches, he refilled +his pipe and began to tell of the trappers. In their description he +referred always to the map he had drawn on Bolton's imagination as +though it had actually lain spread out before them. Sam referred +each name to its district, as you or I would write it across the +section of a chart, and kept accurately in mind which squares of +the invisible map had been thus assigned and which not. It was an +extraordinary effort, but one not unusual among practised woods +runners. This peculiarly minute and concrete power of recollection +is early developed in the wild life.</p> +<p>The Indian finished. Sam remained a moment in contemplation. The +districts were all occupied, and the name of Jingoes did not +appear. That was, however, a small matter. The Ojibway might well +have changed his name, or he might be paying for the privilege of +hunting in another man's territory. A less experienced man would +have been strongly tempted to the more direct question. But Sam +knew that the faintest hint of ulterior motive would not be lost on +the Indian's sharp perceptions. An inquiry, carelessly and +indirectly made, might do no harm. But then again it might. And it +was better to lose two years of time in the search than a single +grain of confidence in those with whom the little party might come +in contact.</p> +<p>After all, Sam Bolton was well satisfied. He had, by his simple +diplomacy, gained several valuable results. He had firmly convinced +one man of a common body, wherein news travels quickly, of his +apparent intentions; he had, furthermore, an exact knowledge of +where to find each and every district head-man of the whole +Kabinikágam country. Whether or not the man he sought would +prove to be one of these head-men, or the guest or lessee of one of +them, was a question only to be answered by direct search. At least +he knew where to search, which was a distinct and valuable +advantage.</p> +<p>"Mi-gwetch—thank you," he said to the Indian when he had +finished. "I understand. I go now to see the Lake. I go to talk to +each of your head-men. I go to see the trapping country with my own +eyes. When I have seen all, I go to Winnipeg to tell my head-man +what I have seen."</p> +<p>The Indian nodded. It would have been quite inconceivable to him +had Sam suggested accepting anything less than the evidence of his +eyes.</p> +<p>The three resumed their journey that afternoon. Sam knew exactly +where he was going. Dick had fallen into a sullen yet rebellious +mood, unaccountable even to himself. In his spirit was the ferment +of a resentfulness absolutely without logical object. With such a +man ferment demands action. Here, in the accustomed labours of this +woods travel, was nothing to bite on save monotony. Dick Herron +resented the monotony, resented the deliberation necessary to so +delicate a mission, resented the unvarying tug of his tump-line or +the unchanging yield of the water to his paddle, resented the +placidity of the older man, above all resented the meek and +pathetic submissiveness of the girl. His narrow eyes concentrated +their gaze ominously. He muttered to himself. The untrained, +instinctive strength of the man's spirit fretted against delay. His +enthusiasm, the fire of his hope, urged him to earn his +self-approval by great exertion. Great exertion was impossible. +Always, day by day, night by night, he chafed at the snail-like +pace with which things moved, chafed at the delay imposed by the +nature of the quest, the policy of the old man, the presence of the +girl. Only, in the rudimentary processes of his intelligence, he +confused the three in one, and the presence of the girl alone +received the brunt of his sullen displeasure. In the splendour of +his strength, head down, heart evil, restrained to a bitter +obedience only by the knowledge that he could do nothing alone, he +broke through the opposing wilderness.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN" id="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +THIRTEEN</h2> +<p>Sam Bolton gauged perfectly the spirit in his comrade, but paid +it little attention. He knew it as a chemical reaction of a certain +phase of forest travel. It argued energy, determination, dogged +pluck when the need should arise, and so far it was good. The woods +life affects various men in various ways, but all in a manner +peculiar to itself. It is a reagent unlike any to be found in other +modes of life. The moment its influence reaches the spirit, in that +moment does the man change utterly from the person he has been in +other and ordinary surroundings; and the instant he emerges from +its control he reverts to his accustomed bearing. But in the +dwelling of the woods he becomes silent. It may be the silence of a +self-contained sufficiency; the silence of an equable mind; the +silence variously of awe, even of fear; it may be the silence of +sullenness. This, as much as the vast stillness of the wilderness, +has earned for the region its designation of the Silent Places.</p> +<p>Nor did the older woodsman fear any direct results from the +younger's very real, though baseless, anger. These men were bound +together by something stronger than any part of themselves. Over +them stood the Company, and to its commands all other things gave +way. No matter how rebellious might be Dick Herron's heart, how +ruffled the surface of his daily manner, Bolton knew perfectly well +he would never for a single instant swerve in his loyalty to the +main object of the expedition. Serene in this consciousness, the +old woodsman dwelt in a certain sweet and gentle rumination of his +own. Among the finer instincts of his being many subtle mysteries +of the forest found their correspondences. The feeling of these +satisfied him entirely, though of course he was incapable of their +intellectualisation.</p> +<p>The days succeeded one another. The camps by the rivers or in +the woods were in essential all alike. The shelter, the shape, and +size of the tiny clearing, the fire, the cooking utensils scattered +about, the little articles of personal belonging were the same. +Only certain details of surrounding differed, and they were not of +importance,—birch-trees for poplars, cedar for both, a river +bend to the northwest instead of the southwest, still water for +swift, a low bank for a high; but always trees, water, bank, and +the sky brilliant with stars. After a little the day's progress +became a myth, to be accepted only by the exercise of faith. The +forest was a great treadmill in which men toiled all day, only to +be surrounded at night by the same grandeurs and littlenesses they +had that morning left. In the face of this apparent futility time +blew vast. Years were as nothing measured by the task of breaking +through the enchanted web that enmeshed them.</p> +<p>And yet all knew by experience, though no one of them could rise +to a realisation of the fact, that some day their canoe would round +the bend and they would find themselves somewhere. Then they could +say to themselves that they had arrived, and could tell themselves +that between here and their starting-point lay so many hundred +miles. Yet in their secret hearts they would not believe it. They +would know that in reality it lay but just around the corner. Only +between were dream-days of the shifting forest heavy with toil.</p> +<p>This is the enchantment the North lays on her children, so that +when the toil oppresses them and death seems to win, they may not +care greatly to struggle, knowing that the struggle is vain.</p> +<p>In the country of the Kabinikágam they visited thus many +hunting districts. The travel neither hastened nor lagged. From +time to time it was necessary to kill, and then the meat must be +cared for. Berries and wild rice were to be gathered. July drew +near its end.</p> +<p>Sam Bolton, knowing now the men with whom he had to deal, found +no difficulty in the exercise of his simple diplomacy. The Ojibway +defaulter was not to be heard of, but every nook searched without +result narrowed the remaining possibilities. Everything went well +enough until late one afternoon.</p> +<p>The portage happened to lead above a narrow gorge over a rapids. +To accomplish it the travellers had first to scale a steep little +hill, then to skirt a huge rounded rock that overhung the gorge. +The roughness of the surface and the adhesive power of their +moccasins alone held them to the slant. These were well sufficient. +Unfortunately, however, Dick, without noticing it, had stepped into +a little pool of water on disembarking. Buckskin while dry is very +adhesive; when wet very slippery. As he followed Sam out on the +curving cheek of the rock his foot slid, he lost his equilibrium, +was on the edge of falling, overbalanced by the top-heavy pack he +was carrying. Luckily Sam himself was portaging the canoe. Dick, +with marvellous quickness, ducked loose from the tump-line. The +pack bounded down the slant, fell with a splash, and was whirled +away. With the impetus of the same motion the young man twisted +himself as violently as possible to regain his footing. He would +probably have succeeded had it not been for the Indian girl. She +had been following the two, a few steps in the rear. As Dick's foot +turned, she slipped her own pack and sprang forward, reaching out +her arm in the hope of steadying him. Unfortunately she did this +only in time to get in the way of the strong twist Dick made for +recovery. The young man tottered for an instant on the very brink +of saving himself, then gave it up, and fell as loosely as possible +into the current.</p> +<p>May-may-gwán, aghast at what she had done, stood +paralyzed, staring into the gorge. Sam swung the canoe from his +shoulders and ran on over the hill and down the other side.</p> +<p>The Indian girl saw the inert body of the woodsman dashed down +through the moil and water, now showing an arm, now a leg, only +once, for a single instant, the head. Twice it hit obstacles, limp +as a sack of flour. Then it disappeared.</p> +<p>Immediately she regained the use of her legs, and scrambled over +the hill after Sam, her breath strangling her. She found below the +rapids a pool, and half in the water at its edge Dick seated, +bruised and cut, spitting water, and talking excitedly to his +companion. Instantly she understood. The young woods runner, with +the rare quickness of expedient peculiar to these people, had +allowed himself to be carried through the rapids muscle-loose, as +an inanimate object would be carried, without an attempt to help +himself in any way. It was a desperate chance, but it was the only +chance. The slightest stiffening of the muscles, the least struggle +would have thrown him out of the water's natural channel against +the bowlders; and then a rigidly held body would have offered only +too good a resistance to the shock. By a miracle of fortune he had +been carried through, bruised and injured, to be sure, but +conscious. Sam had dragged him to the bush-grown bank. There he sat +up in the water and cleared his lungs. He was wildly excited.</p> +<p>"She did it!" he burst Out, as soon as he could speak. "She did +it a purpose! She reached out and pushed me! By God, there she is +now!"</p> +<p>With the instinct of the hunter he had managed to cling to his +rifle. He wrenched at the magazine lever, throwing the muzzle +forward for a shot, but it had been jammed, and he was unable to +move it. "She reached out and pushed me! I felt her do it!" he +cried. He attempted to rise, but fell back, groaning with a pain +that kept him quiet for several moments.</p> +<p>"Sam!" he muttered, "she's there yet. Kill her. Damn it, didn't +you see! I had my balance again, and she pushed me! She had it in +for me!" His face whitened for an instant as he moved, then flooded +with a red anger. "My God!" he cried, in the anguish of a strong +man laid low, "she's busted me all over!" He wrenched loose his +shoulders from Sam's support, struggled to his knees, and fell +back, a groan of pain seeming fairly to burst from his heart. His +head hit sharply against a stone. He lay still.</p> +<p>"May-may-gwán!" called Sam Bolton, sharply.</p> +<p>She came at once, running eagerly, the paralysis of her distress +broken by his voice. Sam directed her by nods of the head. With +some difficulty they carried the unconscious man to the flat and +laid him down, his head on Sam's rolled coat. Then, while +May-may-gwán, under his curtly delivered directions, built a +fire, heated water, carried down the two remaining packs and opened +them, Sam tenderly removed Dick's clothes, and examined him from +head to foot. The cuts on the head were nothing to a strong man; +the bruises less. Manipulation discovered nothing wrong with the +collar-bone and ribs. But at last Sam uttered a quick exclamation +of discovery.</p> +<p>Dick's right ankle was twisted strongly outward and back.</p> +<p>An inexperienced man would have pronounced it a dislocation, but +Sam knew better. He knew better because just once, nearly fifteen +years before, he had assisted Dr. Cockburn at Conjuror's House in +the caring for exactly such an accident. Now he stood for some +moments in silence recalling painfully each little detail of what +he had observed and of what the physician had told him.</p> +<p>Rapidly by means of twigs and a tracing on the wet sand he +explained to May-may-gwán what was the matter and what was +to be done. The fibula, or outer bone of the leg, had been snapped +at its lower end just above the ankle, the foot had been dislocated +to one side, and either the inner ligament of the ankle had given +way, or—what would be more serious—one of the +ankle-bones itself had been torn. Sam Bolton realised fully that it +was advisable to work with the utmost rapidity, before the young +man should regain consciousness, in order that the reduction of the +fracture might be made while the muscles were relaxed. +Nevertheless, he took time both to settle his own ideas, and to +explain them to the girl. It was the luckiest chance of Dick +Herron's life that he happened to be travelling with the one man +who had assisted in the skilled treatment of such a case. Otherwise +he would most certainly have been crippled.</p> +<p>Sam first of all pried from the inner construction of the canoe +two or three of the flat cedar strips used to reinforce the bottom. +These he laid in several thicknesses to make a board of some +strength. On the board he folded a blanket in wedge form, the thick +end terminating abruptly three or four inches from the bottom. He +laid aside several buckskin thongs, and set May-may-gwán to +ripping bandages of such articles of clothing as might suit.</p> +<p>Then he bent the injured leg at the knee. May-may-gwán +held it in that position, while Sam manipulated the foot into what +he judged to be the proper position. Especially did he turn the +foot strongly inward that the inner ankle-bone might fall to its +place. As to the final result he confessed himself almost painfully +in doubt, but did the best he knew. He remembered the +post-surgeon's cunning comments, and tried to assure himself that +the fractured ends of the bones met each other fairly, without the +intervention of tendons or muscle-covering, and that there was no +obstruction to the movements of the ankle. When he had finished, +his brow was wrinkled with anxiety, but he was satisfied that he +had done to the limit of his knowledge.</p> +<p>May-may-gwán now held the cedar board, with its pad, +against the inside of the leg. Sam bound the thin end of the +wedge-shaped blanket to the knee. Thus the thick end of the pad +pressed against the calf just above the ankle, leaving the foot and +the injured bone free of the board. Sam passed a broad buckskin +thong about the ankle and foot in such a manner as to hold the foot +from again turning out. Thus the fracture was fixed in place. The +bandages were wound smoothly to hold everything secure.</p> +<p>The two then, with the utmost precaution, carried their patient +up the bank to a level space suitable for a camp, where he was laid +as flat as possible. The main business was done, although still +there remained certain cuts and contusions, especially that on the +forehead, which had stunned him.</p> +<p>After the reduction of the fracture,—which was actually +consummated before Dick regained his consciousness,—and the +carrying of the young man to the upper flat, Sam curtly instructed +May-may-gwán to gather balsam for the dressing of the +various severer bruises. She obtained the gum, a little at a time, +from a number of trees. Here and there, where the bark had cracked +or been abraded, hard-skinned blisters had exuded. These, when +pricked, yielded a liquid gum, potent in healing. While she was +collecting this in a quickly fashioned birch-bark receptacle, Sam +made camp.</p> +<p>He realised fully that the affair was one of many weeks, if not +of months. On the flat tongue overlooking the river he cleared a +wide space, and with the back of his axe he knocked the hummocks +flat. A score or so of sapling poles he trimmed. Three he tied +together tripod-wise, using for the purpose a strip of the inner +bark of cedar. The rest he leaned against these three. He +postponed, until later, the stripping of birch-bark to cover this +frame, and gave his attention to laying a soft couch for Dick's +convalescence. The foundation he made of caribou-moss, gathered dry +from the heights; the top of balsam boughs cleverly thatched so +that the ends curved down and in, away from the recumbent body. +Over all he laid what remained of his own half blanket. Above the +bed he made a framework from which a sling would be hung to suspend +the injured leg.</p> +<p>All this consumed not over twenty minutes. At the end of that +time he glanced up to meet Dick's eyes.</p> +<p>"Leg broke," he answered the inquiry in them. "That's all."</p> +<p>"That girl—," began Dick.</p> +<p>"Shut up!" said Sam.</p> +<p>He moved here and there, constructing, by means of flat stones, +a trough to be used as a cooking-range. At the edge of the clearing +he met the Indian girl returning with her little birch-bark +saucer.</p> +<p>"Little Sister," said he.</p> +<p>She raised her eyes to him.</p> +<p>"I want the truth."</p> +<p>"What truth, Little Father?"</p> +<p>He looked searchingly into her eyes.</p> +<p>"It does not matter; I have it," he replied.</p> +<p>She did not ask him further. If she had any curiosity, she did +not betray it; if she had any suspicion of what he meant, she did +not show it.</p> +<p>Sam returned to where Dick lay.</p> +<p>"Look here, Sam," said he, "this comes of—"</p> +<p>"Shut up!" said Sam again. "Look here, you, you've made trouble +enough. Now you're laid up, and you're laid up for a good long +while. This ain't any ordinary leg break. It means three months, +and it may mean that you'll never walk straight again. It's got to +be treated mighty careful, and you've got to do just what I tell +you. You just behave yourself. It wasn't anybody's fault. That girl +had nothing to do with it. If you weren't a great big fool you'd +know it. We both got to take care of you. Now you treat her decent, +and you treat me decent. It's time you came off."</p> +<p>He said it as though he meant it. Nevertheless it was with the +most elaborate tenderness that he, assisted by May-may-gwán, +carried Dick to his new quarters. But in spite of the utmost care, +the transportation was painful. The young man was left with no +strength. The rest of the afternoon he dozed in a species of +torpor.</p> +<p>Sam's energy toward permanent establishment did not relax. He +took a long tramp in search of canoe birches, from which at last he +brought back huge rolls of thick bark. These he and the girl sewed +together in overlapping seams, using white spruce-roots for the +purpose. The result was a water-tight covering for the wigwam. A +pile of firewood was the fruit of two hours' toil. In the meantime +May-may-gwán had caught some fish with the hook and line and +had gathered some berries. She made Dick a strong broth of dried +meat. At evening the old man and the girl ate their meal together +at the edge of the bluff overlooking the broil of the river. They +said little, but somehow the meal was peaceful, with a content +unknown in the presence of the impatient and terrible young +man.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +FOURTEEN</h2> +<p>During the days that ensued a certain intimacy sprang up between +Sam Bolton and the Indian girl. At first their talk was brief and +confined to the necessities. Then matters of opinion, disjointed, +fragmentary, began to creep in. Finally the two came to know each +other, less by what was actually said, than by the attitude of mind +such confidences presupposed. One topic they avoided. Sam, for all +his shrewdness, could not determine to what degree had persisted +the young man's initial attraction for the girl. Of her devotion +there could be no question, but in how much it depended on the +necessity of the moment lay the puzzle. Her demeanor was +inscrutable. Yet Sam came gradually to trust to her loyalty.</p> +<p>In the soft, sweet open-air life the days passed stately in the +manner of figures on an ancient tapestry. Certain things were each +morning to be done,—the dressing of Dick's cuts and +contusions with the healing balsam, the rebandaging and adjusting +of the splints and steadying buckskin strap; the necessary cooking +and cleaning; the cutting of wood; the fishing below the rapids; +the tending of traps; the occasional hunting of larger game; the +setting of snares for rabbits. From certain good skins of the +latter May-may-gwán was engaged in weaving a blanket, +braiding the long strips after a fashion of her own. She smoked +tanned buckskin, and with it repaired thoroughly both the men's +garments and her own. These things were to be done, though +leisurely, and with slow, ruminative pauses for the dreaming of +forest dreams.</p> +<p>But inside the wigwam Dick Herron lay helpless, his hands +clenched, his eyes glaring red with an impatience he seemed to hold +his breath to repress. Time was to be passed. That was all he knew, +all he thought about, all he cared. He seized the minutes grimly +and flung them behind him. So absorbed was he in this, that he +seemed to give grudgingly and hastily his attention to anything +else. He never spoke except when absolutely necessary; it almost +seemed that he never moved. Of Sam he appeared utterly unconscious. +The older man performed the little services about him quite +unnoticed. The Indian girl Dick would not suffer near him at all. +Twice he broke silence for what might be called commentatorial +speech.</p> +<p>"It'll be October before we can get started," he growled one +evening.</p> +<p>"Yes," said Sam.</p> +<p>"You wait till I <i>can</i> get out!" he said on another +occasion, in vague threat of determination.</p> +<p>At the beginning of the third week Sam took his seat by the moss +and balsam pallet and began to fill his pipe in preparation for a +serious talk.</p> +<p>"Dick," said he, "I've made up my mind we've wasted enough time +here."</p> +<p>Herron made no reply.</p> +<p>"I'm going to leave you here and go to look over the other +hunting districts by myself."</p> +<p>Still no reply.</p> +<p>"Well?" demanded Sam.</p> +<p>"What about me?" asked Dick.</p> +<p>"The girl will take care of you."</p> +<p>A long silence ensued. "She'll take everything we've got and get +out," said Dick at last.</p> +<p>"She will not! She'd have done it before now."</p> +<p>"She'll quit me the first Injuns that come along."</p> +<p>Sam abandoned the point.</p> +<p>"You needn't take the risk unless you want to. If you say so, +I'll wait."</p> +<p>"Oh, damn the risk," cried Dick, promptly. "Go ahead."</p> +<p>The woodsman smoked.</p> +<p>"Sam," said the younger man.</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<p>"I know I'm hard to get along with just now. Don't mind me. It's +hell to lie on your back and be able to do nothing. I've seemed to +hinder the game from the first. Just wait till I'm up again!"</p> +<p>"That's all right, my boy," replied Sam. "I understand. Don't +worry. Just take it easy. I'll look over the district, so we won't +be losing any time. And, Dick, be decent to the girl."</p> +<p>"To hell with the girl," growled Dick, lapsing abruptly from his +expansive mood. "She got me into this."</p> +<p>Not another word would he speak, but lay, staring upward, +chewing the cud of resentment.</p> +<p>Promptly on the heels of his decision Sam Bolton had a long talk +with May-may-gwán, then departed carrying a little pack. It +was useless to think now of the canoe, and in any case the time of +year favoured cross-country travel. The distances, thus measured, +were not excessive, and from the Indian's descriptions, Sam's +slow-brooding memory had etched into his mind an accurate map of +the country.</p> +<p>At noon the girl brought Dick his meal. After he had eaten she +removed the few utensils. Then she returned.</p> +<p>"The Little Father commanded that I care for your hurt," she +said, simply.</p> +<p>"My leg's all right now," growled Dick. "I can bandage it +myself."</p> +<p>May-may-gwán did not reply, but left the tent. In a +moment she reappeared carrying forked switches, a square of white +birch-bark, and a piece of charcoal.</p> +<p>"Thus it is," said she rapidly. "These be the leg bones and this +the bone of the ankle. This bone is broken, so. Thus it is held in +place by the skill of the Little Father. Thus it is healing, with +stiffness of the muscles and the gristle, so that always Eagle eye +will walk like wood, and never will he run. The Little Father has +told May-may-gwán what there is to do. It is now the time. +Fifteen suns have gone since the hurt."</p> +<p>She spoke simply. Dick, interested in spite of himself, stared +at the switches and the hasty charcoal sketch. The dead silence +hung for a full minute. Then the young man fell back from his elbow +with an enigmatical snort. May-may-gwán assumed consent and +set to work on the simple yet delicate manipulations, massages, and +flexings, which, persisted in with due care lest the fracture slip, +would ultimately restore the limb to its full usefulness.</p> +<p>Once a day she did this, thrice a day she brought food. The rest +of the time she was busy about her own affairs; but never too +occupied to loop up a section of the tepee covering for the purpose +of admitting fresh air, to bring a cup of cold water, to readjust +the sling which suspended the injured leg, or to perform an hundred +other little services. She did these things with inscrutable +demeanour. As Dick always accepted them in silence, she offered +them equally in silence. No one could have guessed the thoughts +that passed in her heart.</p> +<p>At the end of a week Dick raised himself suddenly on his +elbow.</p> +<p>"Some one is coming!" he exclaimed, in English.</p> +<p>At the sound of his voice the girl started forward. Her mouth +parted, her eyes sparkled, her nostrils quivered. Nothing could +have been more pathetic than this sudden ecstatic delight, as +suddenly extinguished when she perceived that the exclamation was +involuntary and not addressed to her. In a moment Sam Bolton +appeared, striding out of the forest.</p> +<p>He unslung his little pack, leaned his rifle against a tree, +consigned to May-may-gwán a dog he was leading, and +approached the wigwam. He seemed in high good humour.</p> +<p>"Well, how goes it?" he greeted.</p> +<p>But at the sight of the man striding in his strength Dick's dull +anger had fallen on him again like a blanket. Unreasonably, as he +himself well knew, he was irritated. Something held him back from +the utterance of the hearty words of greeting that had been on his +tongue. A dull, apathetic indifference to everything except the +chains of his imprisonment enveloped his spirit.</p> +<p>"All right," he answered, grudgingly.</p> +<p>Sam deftly unwound the bandages, examining closely the condition +of the foot.</p> +<p>"Bone's in place all right," he commented. "Has the girl rubbed +it and moved it every day?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Any pain to amount to anything now?"</p> +<p>"Pretty dull work lying on your back all day with nothing to +do."</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Took in the country to southeast. Didn't find anything. Picked +up a pretty good dog. Part 'husky.'"</p> +<p>Dick had no comment to make on this. Sam found +May-may-gwán making friends with the dog, feeding him little +scraps, patting his head, above all wrinkling the end of his +pointed nose in one hand and batting it softly with the palm of the +other. This caused the dog to sneeze violently, but he exhibited +every symptom of enjoyment. The animal had long, coarse hair, sharp +ears set alertly forward, a bushy tail, and an expression of great +but fierce intelligence.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="Illustration160" id= +"Illustration160"></a> <a href="images/160.jpg"><img src= +"images/160.jpg" width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"Listen, Little Sister," said he. "Now I go on a long +journey"</b> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<p>"Eagle-eye does well," said the woodsman.</p> +<p>"I have done as the Little Father commanded," she replied, and +arose to cook the meal.</p> +<p>The next day Sam constructed a pair of crutches well padded with +moss.</p> +<p>"Listen, Little Sister," said he. "Now I go on a long journey, +perhaps fifteen suns, perhaps one moon. At the end of six suns more +Jibibánisi may rise. His leg must be slung, thus. Never must +he touch the foot to the ground, even for an instant. You must see +to it. I will tell him, also. Each day he must sit in the sun. He +must do something. When snow falls we will again take the long +trail. Prepare all things for it. Give Eagle-eye materials to work +with."</p> +<p>To Dick he spoke with like directness.</p> +<p>"I'm off again, Dick," said he. "There's no help for it; you've +got to lay up there for a week yet. Then the girl will show you how +to tie your leg out of the way, and you can move on crutches. If +you rest any weight on that foot before I get back, you'll be stiff +for life. I shouldn't advise you to take any chances. Suit +yourself; but I should try to do no more than get out in the sun. +You won't be good for much before snow. You can get things +organised. She'll bring you the stuff to work on, and will help. So +long."</p> +<p>"Good-by," muttered Dick. He breathed hard, fully occupied with +the thought of his helplessness, with blind, unappeasable rage +against the chance that had crippled him, with bitter and useless +questionings as to why such a moment should have been selected for +the one accident of his young life. Outside he could hear the +crackle of the little fire, the unusual sound of the Indian girl's +voice as she talked low to the dog, the animal's whine of +appreciation and content. Suddenly he felt the need of +companionship, the weariness of his own unending, revolving +thoughts.</p> +<p>"Hi!" he called aloud.</p> +<p>May-may-gwán almost instantly appeared in the entrance, a +scarcely concealed hope shining in her eyes. This was the first +time she had been summoned.</p> +<p>"Ninny-moosh—the dog," commanded Dick, coldly.</p> +<p>She turned to whistle the beast. He came at once, already +friends with this human being, who understood him.</p> +<p>"Come here, old fellow," coaxed Dick, holding out his hand.</p> +<p>But the half-wild animal was in doubt. He required assurance of +this man's intentions. Dick gave himself to the task of supplying +it. For the first time in a month his face cleared of its +discontent. The old, winning boyishness returned. +May-may-gwán, standing forgotten, in the entrance, watched +in silence. Dick coaxed knowingly, leading, by the very force of +persuasion, until the dog finally permitted a single pat of his +sharp nose. The young man smoothly and cautiously persisted, his +face alight with interest. Finally he conquered. The animal allowed +his ears to be rubbed, his nose to be batted. At length, well +content, he lay down by his new master within reach of the hand +that rested caressingly on his head. The Indian girl stole softly +away. At the fireside she seated herself and gazed in the coals. +Presently the marvel of two tears welled in her eyes. She blinked +them away and set about supper.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +FIFTEEN</h2> +<p>Whether it was that the prospect of getting about, or the +diversion of the dog was responsible for the change, Dick's +cheerfulness markedly increased in the next few days. For hours he +would fool with the animal, whom he had named Billy, after a +hunting companion, teaching him to shake hands, to speak, to +wrinkle his nose in a doggy grin, to lie down at command, and all +the other tricks useful and ornamental that go to make up the +fanciest kind of a dog education. The mistakes and successes of his +new friend seemed to amuse him hugely. Often from the tent burst +the sounds of inextinguishable mirth. May-may-gwán, peeping, +saw the young man as she had first seen him, clear-eyed, laughing, +the wrinkles of humour deepening about his eyes, his white teeth +flashing, his brow untroubled. Three days she hovered thus on the +outer edge of the renewed good feeling, then timidly essayed an +advance.</p> +<p>Unobtrusive, she slipped inside the teepee's flap. The dog sat +on his haunches, his head to one side in expectation.</p> +<p>"The dog is a good dog," she said, her breath choking her.</p> +<p>Apparently the young man had not heard.</p> +<p>"It will be well to name the dog that he may answer to his +name," she ventured again.</p> +<p>Dick, abruptly gripped by the incomprehensible obsession, uneasy +as at something of which he only waited the passing, resentful +because of the discomfort this caused him, unable to break through +the artificial restraint that enveloped his spirit, lifted his eyes +suddenly, dead and lifeless, to hers.</p> +<p>"It is time to lift the net," he said.</p> +<p>The girl made no more advances. She moved almost automatically +about her accustomed tasks, preparing the materials for what +remained to be done.</p> +<p>Promptly on the seventh day, with much preparation and +precaution, Dick moved. He had now to suffer the girl's assistance. +When he first stood upright, he was at once attacked by a severe +dizziness, which would have caused a fall had not +May-may-gwán steadied him. With difficulty he hobbled to a +seat outside. Even his arms seemed to him pithless. He sank to his +place hard-breathed, exhausted. It was some minutes before he could +look about him calmly.</p> +<p>The first object to catch his eye was the cardinal red of a +moose-maple, like a spot of blood on velvet-green. And thus he knew +that September, or the Many-caribou-in-the-woods Moon, was close at +hand.</p> +<p>"Hi!" he called.</p> +<p>May-may-gwán came as before, but without the look of +expectation in her eyes.</p> +<p>"Bring me wood of mashkigiwáteg, wood of tamarack," he +commanded; "bring me mókamon, the knife, and +tschì-mókamon, the large knife; bring the hide of +ah-ték, the caribou."</p> +<p>"These things are ready, at hand," she replied.</p> +<p>With the <i>couteau croche</i>, the crooked knife of the North, +Dick laboured slowly, fashioning with care the long tamarack +strips. He was exceedingly particular as to the selection of the +wood, as to the taper of the pieces. At last one was finished to +his satisfaction. Slowly then he fashioned it, moulding the green +wood, steaming it to make it more plastic, until at last the ends +lay side by side, and the loop of wood bowed above in the shape of +a snow-shoe raquette. The exact shape Dick still further assured by +means of two cross-pieces. These were bound in place by the strips +of the caribou-skin rawhide wet in warm water, which was also used +to bind together the two ends. The whole was then laid aside to +dry.</p> +<p>Thus in the next few days Dick fashioned the frame of six +snow-shoes. He adhered closely to the Ojibway pattern. In these +woods it was not necessary to have recourse to the round, broad +shape of the rough bowlder-hills, nor was it possible to use the +long, swift shoe of the open plains. After a while he heated red +the steel end of his rifle cleaning-rod and bored holes for the +webbing. This also he made of caribou rawhide, for caribou shrinks +when wet, thus tightening the lacing where other materials would +stretch. Above and below the cross-pieces he put in a very fine +weaving; between them a coarser, that the loose snow might readily +sift through. Each strand he tested again and again; each knot he +made doubly sure.</p> +<p>Nor must it be imagined that he did these things alone. +May-may-gwán helped him, not only by fetching for him the +tools and materials, of which he stood in need, but also in the +bending, binding, and webbing itself. Under the soft light of the +trees, bathed in the aroma of fresh shavings and the hundred +natural odours of the forest, it was exceedingly pleasant +accurately to accomplish the light skilled labour. But between +these human beings, alone in a vast wilderness, was no +communication outside the necessities of the moment. Thus in a +little the three pairs of snow-shoes, complete even to the buckskin +foot-loops, hung from the sheltered branch of a spruce.</p> +<p>"Bring now to me," said the young man, "poles of the hickory, +logs of gijik, the cedar; bring me wigwass, the birch-bark, and the +rawhide of mooswa, the moose."</p> +<p>"These things are at hand," repeated May-may-gwán.</p> +<p>Then ensued days of severe toil. Dick was, of course, unable to +handle the axe, so the girl had to do it under his direction. The +affair was of wedges with which to split along the grain; of +repeated attempts until the resulting strips were true and without +warp; of steaming and tying to the proper curve, and, finally, of +binding together strongly with the tough <i>babiche</i> into the +shape of the dog-sledge. This, too, was suspended at last beneath +the sheltering spruce.</p> +<p>"Bring me now," said Dick, "rawhide of mooswa, the moose, +rawhide of ah-ték, the caribou, wátab, the root for +sewing."</p> +<p>Seated opposite each other, heads bent over the task, they made +the dog-harness, strong, serviceable, not to be worn out, with the +collar, the broad buckskin strap over the back, the heavy traces. +Four of them they made, for Sam would undoubtedly complete the +team, and these, too, they hung out of reach in the +spruce-tree.</p> +<p>Now Sam returned from his longest trip, empty of information, +but light of spirit, for he had succeeded by his simple shrewdness +in avoiding all suspicion. He brought with him another "husky" dog, +and a strong animal like a Newfoundland; also some tea and tobacco, +and an axe-blade. This latter would be especially valuable. In the +extreme cold steel becomes like glass. The work done earned his +approval, but he paused only a day, and was off again.</p> +<p>From the inside of the teepee hung many skins of the northern +hare which May-may-gwán had captured and tanned while Dick +was still on his back. The woven blanket was finished. Now she +lined the woollen blankets with these hare-skins, over an hundred +to each. Nothing warmer could be imagined. Of caribou skin, tanned +with the hair on, she and Dick fashioned jackets with peaked hoods, +which, when not in use, would hang down behind. The opening about +the face was sewn with bushy fox's tails, and a puckering-string +threaded through so that the wearer could completely protect his +features. Mittens they made from pelts of the muskrat. Moccasins +were cut extra large and high, and lined with fur of the hare. +Heavy rawhide dog-whips and buckskin gun-cases completed the simple +winter outfit.</p> +<p>But still there remained the question of sustenance. Game would +be scarce and uncertain in the cold months.</p> +<p>It was now seven weeks since Dick's accident. Cautiously, with +many pauses, he began to rest weight on the injured foot. Thanks to +the treatment of massage and manipulation, the joint was but little +stiffened. Each day it gained in strength. Shortly Dick was able to +hobble some little distance, always with the aid of a staff, always +heedfully. As yet he was far from the enjoyment of full freedom of +movement, but by expenditure of time and perseverance he was able +to hunt in a slow, patient manner. The runways where the caribou +came to drink late in the evening, a cautious float down-stream as +far as the first rapids, or even a plain sitting on a log in the +hope that game would chance to feed within range—these +methods persisted in day after day brought in a fair quantity of +meat.</p> +<p>Of the meat they made some jerky for present consumption by the +dogs, and, of course, they ate fresh as much as they needed. But +most went into pemmican. The fat was all cut away, the lean sliced +thin and dried in the sun. The result they pounded fine, and mixed +with melted fat and the marrow, which, in turn, was compressed +while warm into air-tight little bags. A quantity of meat went into +surprisingly little pemmican. The bags were piled on a long-legged +scaffolding out of the reach of the dogs and wild animals.</p> +<p>The new husky and Billy had promptly come to teeth, but Billy +had held his own, much to Dick Herron's satisfaction. The larger +animal was a bitch, so now all dwelt together in amity. During the +still hunt they were kept tied in camp, but the rest of the time +they prowled about. Never, however, were they permitted to leave +the clearing, for that would frighten the game. At evening they sat +in an expectant row, awaiting the orderly distribution of their +evening meal. Somehow they added much to the man-feel of the camp. +With their coming the atmosphere of men as opposed to the +atmosphere of the wilderness had strengthened. On this side was the +human habitation, busy at its own affairs, creating about itself a +definite something in the forest, unknown before, preparing quietly +and efficiently its weapons of offence and defence, all complete in +its fires and shelters and industries and domestic animals. On the +other, formidable, mysterious, vast, were slowly crystallising, +without disturbance, without display, the mighty opposing forces. +In the clarified air of the first autumn frosts this antagonism +seemed fairly to saturate the stately moving days. It was as yet +only potential, but the potentialities were swelling, ever swelling +toward the break of an actual conflict.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +SIXTEEN</h2> +<p>Now the leaves ripened and fell, and the frost crisped them. +Suddenly the forest was still. The great, brooding silence, +composed of a thousand lesser woods voices, flowed away like a +vapour to be succeeded by a fragile, deathly suspension of sound. +Dead leaves depended motionless from the trees. The air hung inert. +A soft sunlight lay enervated across the world.</p> +<p>In the silence had been a vast, holy mystery of greater purpose +and life; in the stillness was a menace. It became the instant of +poise before the break of something gigantic.</p> +<p>And always across it were rising strange rustlings that might +mean great things or little, but whose significance was always in +doubt. Suddenly the man watching by the runway would hear a mighty +scurrying of dead leaves, a scampering, a tumult of hurrying +noises, the abruptness of whose inception tightened his nerves and +set galloping his heart. Then, with equal abruptness, they ceased. +The delicate and fragile stillness settled down.</p> +<p>In all the forest thus diverse affairs seemed to be carried +on—fearfully, in sudden, noisy dashes, as a man under fire +would dodge from one cover to another. Every creature advertised in +the leaves his presence. Danger lurked to this, its advantage. Even +the man, taking his necessary footsteps, was abashed at the +disproportionate and unusual effects of his movements. It was as +though a retiring nature were to be accompanied at every step +through a crowded drawing-room by the jingling of bells. Always the +instinct was to pause in order that the row might die away, that +the man might shrink to his accustomed unobtrusiveness. And +instantaneously, without the grace of even a little transitional +echo, the stillness fell, crowding so closely on the heels of the +man's presence that almost he could feel the breath of whatever it +represented.</p> +<p>Occasionally two red squirrels would descend from the +spruce-trees to chase each other madly. Then, indeed, did the +spirit of autumn seem to be outraged. The racket came to be an +insult. Always the ear expected its discontinuance, until finally +the persistence ground on the nerves like the barking of a dog at +night. At last it was an indecency, an orgy of unholy revel, a +profanation, a provocative to anger of the inscrutable woods god. +Then stillness again with the abruptness of a sword-cut.</p> +<p>Always the forest seemed to be the same; and yet somehow in a +manner not to be defined a subtle change was taking place in the +wilderness. Nothing definite could be instanced. Each morning of +that Indian summer the skies were as soft, the sun as grateful, the +leaves as gorgeous in their blazonment, yet each morning an +infinitesimal something that had been there the day before was +lacking, and for it an infinitesimal something had been +substituted. The change from hour to hour was not perceptible; from +week to week it was. The stillness grew in portent; the forest +creatures moved more furtively. Like growth, rather than chemical +change; the wilderness was turning to iron. With this hardening it +became more formidable and menacing. No longer aloof in nirvanic +calm, awakened it drew near its enemies, alert, cunning, +circumspect, ready to strike.</p> +<p>Each morning a thin film of ice was to be seen along the edges +of the slack water. Heavy, black frosts whitened the shadows and +nipped the unaccustomed fingers early in the day. The sun was +swinging to the south, lengthening the night hours. Whitefish were +running in the river.</p> +<p>These last the man and the girl caught in great numbers, and +smoked and piled on long-legged scaffolds. They were intended as +winter food for the dogs, and would constitute a great part of what +would be taken along when the journey should commence.</p> +<p>Dick began to walk without his crutches, a very little at a +time, grimly, all his old objectless anger returned when the extent +of his disability was thus brought home to him. But always with +persistence came improvement. Each attempt brought its reward in +strengthened muscles, freer joints, greater confidence. At last it +could be no longer doubted that by the Indian's Whitefish Moon he +would be as good as ever. The discovery, by some queer contrariness +of the man's disposition, was avoided as long as possible, and +finally but grudgingly admitted. Yet when at last Dick confessed to +himself that his complete recovery was come, his mood suddenly +changed. The old necessity for blind, unreasoning patience seemed +at an end. He could perceive light ahead, and so in the absence of +any further need for taut spiritual nerves, he relaxed the strain +and strode on more easily. He played more with the dogs—of +which still his favourite was Billy; occasionally he burst into +little snatches of song, and the sound of his whistling was merry +in the air. At length he paused abruptly in his work to fix his +quizzical, narrow gaze on the Indian girl.</p> +<p>"Come, Little Sister," said he, "let us lift the nets."</p> +<p>She looked up at him, a warm glow leaping to her face. This was +the first time he had addressed her by the customary diminutive of +friendship since they had both been members of the Indian camp on +the Missináibie.</p> +<p>They lifted the net together, and half-filled the canoe with the +shining fish. Dick bore himself with the careless good humour of +his earlier manner. The greater part of the time he seemed +unconscious of his companion's presence, but genuinely unconscious, +not with the deliberate affront of a pretended indifference. Under +even this negative good treatment the girl expanded with an almost +luxuriant gratitude. Her face lost its stoical mask of +imperturbability, and much of her former arch beauty returned. The +young man was blind to these things, for he was in reality +profoundly indifferent to the girl, and his abrupt change of manner +could in no way be ascribed to any change in his feeling for her. +It was merely the reflex of his inner mood, and that sprang solely +from joy over the permission he had given himself again to +contemplate taking the Long Trail.</p> +<p>But Sam Bolton, returning that very day from his own long +journey, saw at once the alteration in May-may-gwán, and was +troubled over it. He came into camp by the river way where the moss +and spruce-needles silenced his footsteps, so he approached +unnoticed. The girl bent over the fire. A strong glow from the +flames showed the stronger glow illuminating her face from within. +She hummed softly a song of the Ojibway language:</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Mong-o doog-win</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Nin dinaindoon—"</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"Loon's wing I thought it +was</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">In the distance +shining.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">But it was my lover's +paddle</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">In the distance +shining."</span></p> +<p>Then she looked up and saw him.</p> +<p>"Little Father!" she cried, pleased.</p> +<p>At the same moment Dick caught sight of the new-comer and +hobbled out of the wigwam.</p> +<p>"Hello, you old snoozer!" he shouted. "We began to think you +weren't going to show up at all. Look at what we've done. I believe +you've been lying out in the woods just to dodge work. Where'd you +steal <i>that</i> dog?"</p> +<p>"Hello, Dick," replied Sam, unslinging his pack. "I'm tired. +Tell her to rustle grub."</p> +<p>He leaned back against a cedar, half-closing his eyes, but +nevertheless keenly alert. The changed atmosphere of the camp +disturbed him. Although he had not realised it before, he preferred +Dick's old uncompromising sulkiness.</p> +<p>In accordance with the woods custom, little was said until after +the meal was finished and the pipes lit. Then Dick inquired:</p> +<p>"Well, where you been this time, and what did you find?"</p> +<p>Sam replied briefly as to his journey, making it clear that he +had now covered all the hunting districts of this region with the +single exception of one beyond the Kenógami. He had +discovered nothing; he was absolutely sure that nothing was to be +discovered.</p> +<p>"I didn't go entirely by what the Injuns told me," he said, "but +I looked at the signs along the trapping routes and the trapping +camps to see how many had been at it, and I'm sure the number +tallies with the reg'lar Injun hunters. I picked up that dog over +to Leftfoot Lake. Come here, pup!"</p> +<p>The animal slouched forward, his head hanging, the rims of his +eyes blood red as he turned them up to his master. He was a +powerful beast, black and tan, with a quaintly wrinkled, anxious +countenance and long, pendent ears.</p> +<p>"Strong," commented Dick, "but queer-looking. He'll have trouble +keeping warm with that short coat."</p> +<p>"He's wintered here already," replied Sam, indifferently. "Go +lie down!"</p> +<p>The dog slouched slowly back, his heavy head and ears swinging +to each step, to where May-may-gwán was keeping his peace +with the other animals.</p> +<p>"Now for that Kenógami country," went on Sam; "it's two +weeks from here by dogs, and it's our last chance in this country. +I ain't dared ask too many questions, of course, so I don't know +anything about the men who're hunting there. There's four families, +and one other. He's alone; I got that much out of the last place I +stopped. We got to wait here for snow. If we don't raise anything +there, we'd better get over toward the Nipissing country."</p> +<p>"All right," said Dick.</p> +<p>The older man began to ask minutely concerning the equipment, +provisions, and dog food.</p> +<p>"It's all right as long as we can take it easy and hunt," +advised Sam, gradually approaching the subject that was really +troubling him, "and it's all right if we can surprise this Jingoss +or ambush him when we find him. But suppose he catches wind of us +and skips, what then? It'll be a mighty pretty race, my son, and a +hard one. We'll have to fly light and hard, and we'll need every +pound of grub we can scrape."</p> +<p>The young man's eyes darkened and his nostrils expanded with the +excitement of this thought.</p> +<p>"Just let's strike his trail!" he exclaimed.</p> +<p>"That's all right," agreed the woodsman, his eyes narrowing; +"but how about the girl, then?"</p> +<p>But Dick exhibited no uneasiness. He merely grinned broadly.</p> +<p>"Well, <i>what</i> about the girl? That's what I've been telling +you. Strikes me that's one of your troubles."</p> +<p>Half-satisfied, the veteran fell silent. Shortly after he made +an opportunity to speak to May-may-gwán.</p> +<p>"All is well, Little Sister?" he inquired.</p> +<p>"All is well," she replied; "we have finished the parkas, the +sledges, the snow-shoes, the blankets, and we have made much +food."</p> +<p>"And Jibiwánisi?"</p> +<p>"His foot is nearly healed. Yesterday he walked to the Big Pool +and back. To-day, even this afternoon, Little Father, the Black +Spirit left him so that he has been gay."</p> +<p>Convinced that the restored good feeling was the result rather +of Dick's volatile nature than of too good an understanding, the +old man left the subject.</p> +<p>"Little Sister," he went on, "soon we are going to take the +winter trail. It may be that we will have to travel rapidly. It may +be that food will be scarce. I think it best that you do not go +with us."</p> +<p>She looked up at him.</p> +<p>"These words I have expected," she replied. "I have heard the +speech you have made with the Ojibway men you have met. I have seen +the preparations you have made. I am not deceived. You and +Jibiwánisi are not looking for winter posts. I do not know +what it is you are after, but it is something you wish to conceal. +Since you have not told me, I know you wish to conceal it from me. +I did not know all this when I left Haukemah and his people. That +was a foolish thing. It was done, and I do not know why. But it was +done, and it cannot be undone. I could not go back to the people of +Haukemah now; they would kill me. Where else can I go? I do not +know where the Ojibways, my own people, live."</p> +<p>"What do you expect to do, if you stay with me?" inquired Sam, +curiously.</p> +<p>"You come from Conjuror's House. You tell the Indians you come +from Winnipeg, but that is not so. When you have finished your +affairs, you will return to Conjuror's House. There I can enter the +household of some officer."</p> +<p>"But you cannot take the winter trail," objected Sam.</p> +<p>"I am strong; I can take the winter trail."</p> +<p>"And perhaps we may have to journey hard and fast."</p> +<p>"As when one pursues an enemy," said the girl, calmly. "Good. I +am fleet. I too can travel. And if it comes to that, I will leave +you without complaint when I can no longer tread your trail."</p> +<p>"But the food," objected Sam, still further.</p> +<p>"Consider, Little Father," said May-may-gwán; "of the +food I have prepared much; of the work, I have done much. I have +tended the traps, raised the nets, fashioned many things, attended +Eagle-eye. If I had not been here, then you, Little Father, could +not have made your journeys. So you have gained some time."</p> +<p>"That is true," conceded Sam.</p> +<p>"Listen, Little Father, take me with you. I will drive the dogs, +make the camp, cook the food. Never will I complain. If the food +gets scarce, I will not ask for my share. That I promise."</p> +<p>"Much of what you say is true," assented the woodsman, "but you +forget you came to us of your free will and unwelcomed. It would be +better that you go to Missináibie."</p> +<p>"No," replied the girl.</p> +<p>"If you hope to become the squaw of Jibiwánisi," said +Sam, bluntly, "you may as well give it up."</p> +<p>The girl said nothing, but compressed her lips to a straight +line. After a moment she merely reiterated her original +solution:</p> +<p>"At Conjuror's House I know the people."</p> +<p>"I will think of it," then concluded Sam.</p> +<p>Dick, however, could see no good in such an arrangement. He did +not care to discuss the matter at length, but preserved rather the +attitude of a man who has shaken himself free of all the +responsibility of an affair, and is mildly amused at the +tribulations of another still involved in it.</p> +<p>"You'll have a lot of trouble dragging a squaw all over the +north," he advised Sam, critically. "Of course, we can't turn her +adrift here. Wouldn't do that to a dog. But it strikes me it would +even pay us to go out of our way to Missináibie to get rid +of her. We could do that."</p> +<p>"Well, I don't know—" doubted Sam. "Of course—"</p> +<p>"Oh, bring her along if you want to," laughed Dick, "only it's +your funeral. You'll get into trouble, sure. And don't say I didn't +tell you."</p> +<p>It might have been imagined by the respective attitudes of the +two men that actually Sam had been responsible for the affair from +the beginning. Finally, laboriously, he decided that the girl +should go. She could be of assistance; there was small likelihood +of the necessity for protracted hasty travel.</p> +<p>The weather was getting steadily colder. Greasy-looking clouds +drove down from the north-west. Heavy winds swept by. The days +turned gray. Under the shelter of trees the ground froze into +hummocks, which did not thaw out. The crisp leaves which had made +the forest so noisy disintegrated into sodden silence. A wildness +was in the air, swooping down with the breeze, buffeting in the +little whirlwinds and eddies, rocking back and forth in the tops of +the storm-beaten trees. Cold little waves lapped against the thin +fringe of shore ice that crept day by day from the banks. The water +itself turned black. Strange birds swirling down wind like leaves +uttered weird notes of migration. The wilderness hardened to +steel.</p> +<p>The inmates of the little camp waited. Each morning Dick was +early afoot searching the signs of the weather; examining the ice +that crept stealthily from shore, waiting to pounce upon and +imprison the stream; speculating on the chances of an early season. +The frost pinched his bare fingers severely, but he did not mind +that. His leg was by now almost as strong as ever, and he was +impatient to be away, to leave behind him this rapid that had +gained over him even a temporary victory. Always as the time +approached, his spirits rose. It would have been difficult to +identify this laughing boy with the sullen and terrible man who had +sulked through the summer. He had made friends with all the dogs. +Even the fierce "huskies" had become tame, and liked to be upset +and tousled about and dragged on their backs growling fierce but +mock protest. The bitch he had named Claire; the hound with the +long ears he had called Mack, because of a fancied and mournful +likeness to MacDonald, the Chief Trader; the other "husky" he had +christened Wolf, for obvious reasons; and there remained, of +course, the original Billy. Dick took charge of the feeding. At +first he needed his short, heavy whip to preserve order, but +shortly his really admirable gift with animals gained way, and he +had them sitting peacefully in a row awaiting each his turn.</p> +<p>At last the skim ice made it impossible longer to use the canoe +in fishing on the river. The craft was, therefore, suspended bottom +up between two trees. A little snow fell and remained, but was +speedily swept into hollows. The temperature lowered. It became +necessary to assume thicker garments. Once having bridged the river +the ice strengthened rapidly. And then late one afternoon, on the +wings of the northwest wind, came the snow. All night it howled +past the trembling wigwam. All the next day it swirled and drifted +and took the shapes of fantastic monsters leaping in the riot of +the storm. Then the stars, cold and brilliant, once more crackled +in the heavens. The wilderness in a single twenty-four hours had +changed utterly. Winter had come.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +SEVENTEEN</h2> +<p>In the starlit, bitter cold of a north country morning the three +packed their sledge and harnessed their dogs. The rawhide was +stubborn with the frost, the dogs uneasy. Knots would not tie. Pain +nipped the fingers, cruel pain that ate in and in until it had +exposed to the shock of little contacts every tightened nerve. Each +stiff, clumsy movement was agony. From time to time one of the +three thrust hand in mitten to beat the freezing back. Then a new +red torture surged to the very finger-tips. They bore it in +silence, working hastily, knowing that every morning of the long, +winter trip this fearful hour must come. Thus each day the North +would greet them, squeezing their fingers in the cruel hand-clasp +of an antagonist testing their strength.</p> +<p>Over the supplies and blankets was drawn the skin envelope laced +to the sledge. The last reluctant knot was tied. Billy, the leader +of the four dogs, casting an intelligent eye at his masters, knew +that all was ready, and so arose from his haunches. Dick twisted +his feet skilfully into the loops of his snow-shoes. Sam, already +equipped, seized the heavy dog-whip. The girl took charge of the +gee-pole with which the sledge would be guided.</p> +<p>"Mush!—Mush on!" shouted Sam.</p> +<p>The four dogs leaned into their collars. The sledge creaked free +of its frost anchorage and moved.</p> +<p>First it became necessary to drop from the elevation to the +river-bed. Dick and May-may-gwán clung desperately. Sam +exercised his utmost skill and agility to keep the dogs straight. +The toboggan hovered an instant over the edge of the bank, then +plunged, coasting down. Men hung back, dogs ran to keep ahead. A +smother of light snow settled to show, in the dim starlight, the +furrow of descent. And on the broad, white surface of the river +were eight spot of black which represented the followers of the +Long Trail.</p> +<p>Dick shook himself and stepped ahead of the dogs.</p> +<p>"Mush! Mush on!" commanded Sam again.</p> +<p>Dick ran on steadily in the soft snow, swinging his entire +weight now on one foot, now on the other, passing the snow-shoes +with the peculiar stiff swing of the ankle, throwing his heel +strongly downward at each step in order to take advantage of the +long snow-shoe tails' elasticity. At each step he sank deep into +the feathery snow. The runner was forced to lift the toe of the +shoe sharply, and the snow swirled past his ankles like foam. +Behind him, in the trail thus broken and packed for them, trotted +the dogs, their noses low, their jaws hanging. Sam drove with two +long-lashed whips; and May-may-gwán, clinging to the +gee-pole, guided the sledge.</p> +<p>In the absolute and dead stillness of a winter morning before +the dawn the little train went like ghosts in a mist of starlight. +The strange glimmering that seems at such an hour to disengage from +the snow itself served merely to establish the separate bulks of +that which moved across it. The bending figure of the man breaking +trail, his head low, his body moving in its swing with the +regularity of a pendulum; the four wolf-like dogs, also bending +easily to what was not a great labour, the line of their open jaws +and lolling tongues cut out against the snow; another human figure; +the low, dark mass of the sledge; and again the bending figure at +the rear,—all these contrasted in their half-blurred +uncertainty of outline and the suggested motion of their attitude +with the straight, clear silhouette of the spruce-trees against the +sky.</p> +<p>Also the sounds of their travelling offered an analogous +contrast. The dull <i>crunch, crunch, crunch</i> of the snow-shoes, +the breathing of the living beings, the glither and creak of the +sledge came to the ear blurred and confused; utterly unlike the +cameo stillness of the winter dawn.</p> +<p>Ten minutes of the really violent exertion of breaking trail +warmed Dick through. His fingers ceased their protest. Each breath, +blowing to steam, turned almost immediately to frost. He threw back +the hood of his capote, for he knew that should it become wet from +the moisture of his breath, it would freeze his skin, and with his +violent exertions exposure to the air was nothing. In a short time +his eyebrows and eyelashes became heavy with ice. Then slowly the +moisture of his body, working outward through the wool of his +clothing, frosted on the surface, so that gradually as time went on +he grew to look more and more like a great white-furred animal.</p> +<p>The driving here on the open river was comparatively easy. +Except occasionally, the straight line could be adhered to. When it +became necessary to avoid an obstruction, Sam gave the command +loudly, addressing Billy as the lead dog.</p> +<p>"Hu, Billy!" he would cry.</p> +<p>And promptly Billy would turn to the right. Or:</p> +<p>"Chac, Billy!" he would cry.</p> +<p>And Billy would turn to the left, with always in mind the +thought of the long whip to recall his duty to man.</p> +<p>Then the other dogs turned after him. Claire, for her steadiness +and sense, had been made sledge-dog. Always she watched sagaciously +to pull the end of the sledge strongly away should the deviation +not prove sufficient. Later, in the woods, when the trail should +become difficult, much would depend on Claire's good sense.</p> +<p>Now shortly, far to the south, the sun rose. The gray world at +once became brilliant. The low frost haze,—invisible until +now, to be invisible all the rest of the day,—for these few +moments of the level beams worked strange necromancies. The prisms +of a million ice-drops on shrubs and trees took fire. A bewildering +flash and gleam of jewels caught the eye in every direction. And, +suspended in the air, like the shimmer of a soft and delicate +veiling, wavered and floated a mist of vapour, tinted with rose and +lilac, with amethyst and saffron.</p> +<p>As always on the Long Trail, our travellers' spirits rose with +the sun. Dick lengthened his stride, the dogs leaned to their +collars, Sam threw back his shoulders, the girl swung the sledge +tail with added vim. Now everything was warm and bright and +beautiful. It was yet too early in the day for fatigue, and the +first discomforts had passed.</p> +<p>But in a few moments Dick stopped. The sledge at once came to a +halt. They rested.</p> +<p>At the end of ten minutes Sam stepped to the front, and Dick +took the dog-whip. The young man's muscles, still weak from their +long inaction, ached cruelly. Especially was this true of the +ligaments at the groin—used in lifting high the +knee,—and the long muscles along the front of the +shinbone,—by which the toe of the snow-shoe was elevated. He +found himself very glad to drop behind into the beaten trail.</p> +<p>The sun by now had climbed well above the horizon, but did +little to mitigate the cold. As long as the violent movement was +maintained a warm and grateful glow followed the circulation, but a +pause, even of a few moments, brought the shivers. And always the +feathery, clogging snow,—offering slight resistance, it is +true, but opposing that slight resistance continuously, so that at +last it amounted to a great deal. A step taken meant no advance +toward easier steps. The treadmill of forest travel, changed only +in outward form, again claimed their dogged patience.</p> +<p>At noon they paused in the shelter of the woods. The dogs were +anchored by the simple expedient of turning the sledge on its side. +A little fire of dried spruce and pine branches speedily melted +snow in the kettle, and that as speedily boiled tea. Caribou steak, +thawed, then cooked over the blaze, completed the meal. As soon as +it was swallowed they were off again before the cold could mount +them.</p> +<p>The inspiration and uplift of the morning were gone; the sun was +sinking to a colder and colder setting. All the vital forces of the +world were running down. A lethargy seized our travellers. An +effort was required merely to contemplate treading the mill during +the three remaining hours of daylight, a greater effort to +accomplish the first step of it, and an infinite series of +ever-increasing efforts to make the successive steps of that long +afternoon. The mind became weary. And now the North increased by +ever so little the pressure against them, sharpening the cold by a +trifle; adding a few flakes' weight to the snow they must lift on +their shoes; throwing into the vista before them a deeper, chillier +tone of gray discouragement; intensifying the loneliness; giving to +the winds of desolation a voice. Well the great antagonist knew she +could not thus stop these men, but so, little by little, she ground +them down, wore away the excess of their vitality, reduced them to +grim plodding, so that at the moment she would hold them weakened +to her purposes. They made no sign, for they were of the great men +of the earth, but they bent to the familiar touch of many little +fingers pushing them back.</p> +<p>Now the sun did indeed swing to the horizon, so that there +remained scant daylight.</p> +<p>"Chac, Billy!" cried Sam, who again wielded the whip.</p> +<p>Slowly, wearily, the little party turned aside. In the grove of +spruce the snow clung thick and heavy. A cold blackness enveloped +them like a damp blanket. Wind, dying with the sun, shook the snow +from the trees and cried mournfully in their tops. Gray settled on +the landscape, palpable, real, extinguishing the world. It was the +second dreadful hour of the day, the hour when the man, weary, +discouraged, the sweat of travel freezing on him, must still +address himself to the task of making a home in the wilderness.</p> +<p>Again the sledge was turned on its side. Dick and +May-may-gwán removed their snow-shoes, and, using them as +shovels, began vigorously to scrape and dig away the snow. Sam +unstrapped the axe and went for firewood. He cut it with little +tentative strokes, for in the intense cold the steel was almost as +brittle as glass.</p> +<p>Now a square of ground flanked by high snow walls was laid bare. +The two then stripped boughs of balsam with which to carpet all one +end of it. They unharnessed the dogs, and laid the sledge across +one end of the clear space, covering it with branches in order to +keep the dogs from gnawing the moose-skin wrapper. It was already +quite dark.</p> +<p>But at this point Sam returned with fuel. At once the three set +about laying a fire nearly across the end of the cleared space +opposite the sledge. In a moment a tiny flame cast the first +wavering shadows against the darkness. Silently the inimical forces +of the long day withdrew.</p> +<p>Shortly the camp was completed. Before the fire, impaled on +sticks, hung the frozen whitefish thawing out for the dogs. Each +animal was to receive two. The kettle boiled. Meat sizzled over the +coals. A piece of ice, whittled to a point, dripped drinking-water +like a faucet. The snow-bank ramparts were pink in the glow. They +reflected appreciably the heat of the fire, though they were not in +the least affected by it, and remained flaky to the touch. A +comfortable sizzling and frying and bubbling and snapping filled +the little dome of firelight, beyond which was the wilderness. +Weary with an immense fatigue the three lay back waiting for their +supper to be done. The dogs, too, waited patiently just at the edge +of the heat, their bushy tails covering the bottoms of their feet +and their noses, as nature intended. Only Mack, the hound, lacking +this protection, but hardened to greater exposure, lay flat on his +side, his paws extended to the blaze. They all rested quietly, worn +out, apparently without the energy to move a single hair. But now +Dick, rising, took down from its switch the first of the whitefish. +Instantly every dog was on his feet. Their eyes glared yellow, +their jaws slavered, they leaped toward the man who held the fish +high above his head and kicked energetically at the struggling +animals. Sam took the dog whip to help. Between them the food was +distributed, two fish to a dog. The beasts took each his share to a +place remote from the others and bolted it hastily, returning at +once on the chance of a further distribution, or the opportunity to +steal from his companions. After a little more roaming about, +growling and suspicious sniffing, they again settled down one by +one to slumber.</p> +<p>Almost immediately after supper the three turned in, first +removing and hanging before the fire the duffel and moccasins worn +during the day. These were replaced by larger and warmer sleep +moccasins lined with fur. The warm-lined coverings they pulled up +over and around them completely, to envelop even their heads. This +arrangement is comfortable only after long use has accustomed one +to the half-suffocation; but it is necessary, not only to preserve +the warmth of the body, but also to protect the countenance from +freezing. At once they fell into exhausted sleep.</p> +<p>As though they had awaited a signal, the dogs arose and +proceeded to investigate the camp. Nothing was too trivial to +escape their attention. Billy found a tiny bit of cooked meat. +Promptly he was called on to protect his discovery against a +vigorous onslaught from the hound and the other husky. Over and +over the fighting dogs rolled, snorting and biting, awakening the +echoes of the forest, even trampling the sleepers, who, +nevertheless, did not stir. In the mean time, Claire, uninvolved, +devoured the morsel. The trouble gradually died down. One after +another the animals dug themselves holes in the snow, where they +curled up, their bushy tails over their noses and their fore paws. +Only Mack, the hound with the wrinkled face and long, pendent ears, +unendowed with such protection, crept craftily between his sleeping +masters.</p> +<p>Gradually the fire died to coals, then filmed to ashes. Hand in +hand the cold and the darkness invaded the camp. As the firelight +faded, objects showed dimly, growing ever more distinct through the +dying glow—the snow-laden bushes, the pointed trees against a +steel sky of stars. The little, artificial tumult of homely sound +by which these men had created for the moment an illusion of life +sank down under the unceasing pressure of the verities, so that the +wilderness again flowed unobstructed through the forest aisles. +With a last <i>pop</i> of coals the faint noise of the fire ceased. +Then an even fainter noise slowly became audible, a crackling +undertone as of silken banners rustling. And at once, splendid, +barbaric, the mighty orgy of the winter-time aurora began.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN" id="CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN"></a>CHAPTER +EIGHTEEN</h2> +<p>In a day or two Dick was attacked by the fearful <i>mal de +raquette</i>, which tortures into knots the muscles of the leg +below the knee; and by cramps that doubled him up in his blankets. +This was the direct result of his previous inaction. He moved only +with pain; and yet, by the stern north-country code, he made no +complaint and moved as rapidly as possible. Each time he raised his +knee a sharp pain stabbed his groin, as though he had been stuck by +a penknife; each time he bent his ankle in the recover the <i>mal +de raquette</i> twisted his calves, and stretched his ankle tendons +until he felt that his very feet were insecurely attached and would +drop off. During the evening he sat quiet, but after he had fallen +asleep from the mere exhaustion of the day's toil, he doubled up, +straightened out, groaned aloud, and spoke rapidly in the strained +voice of one who suffers. Often he would strip his legs by the +fire, in order that Sam could twist a cleft stick vigorously about +the affected muscles; which is the Indian treatment. As for the +cramps, they took care of themselves. The day's journey was +necessarily shortened until he had partly recovered, but even after +the worst was over, a long tramp always brought a slight +recurrence.</p> +<p>For the space of nearly ten weeks these people travelled thus in +the region of the Kabinikágam. Sometimes they made long +marches; sometimes they camped for the hunting; sometimes the +great, fierce storms of the north drove them to shelter, snowed +them under, and passed on shrieking. The wind opposed them. At +first of little account, its very insistence gave it value. Always +the stinging snow whirling into the face; always the eyes watering +and smarting; always the unyielding opposition against which to +bend the head; always the rush of sound in the ears,—a +distraction against which the senses had to struggle before they +could take their needed cognisance of trail and of game. An +uneasiness was abroad with the wind, an uneasiness that infected +the men, the dogs, the forest creatures, the very insentient trees +themselves. It racked the nerves. In it the inimical Spirit of the +North seemed to find its plainest symbol; though many difficulties +she cast in the way were greater to be overcome.</p> +<p>Ever the days grew shorter. The sun swung above the horizon, low +to the south, and dipped back as though pulled by some invisible +string. Slanting through the trees it gave little cheer and no +warmth. Early in the afternoon it sank, silhouetting the pointed +firs, casting across the snow long, crimson shadows, which faded +into gray. It was replaced by a moon, chill and remote, dead as the +white world on which it looked.</p> +<p>In the great frost continually the trees were splitting with +loud, sudden reports. The cold had long since squeezed the last +drops of moisture from the atmosphere. It was metallic, clear, hard +as ice, brilliant as the stars, compressed with the freezing. The +moon, the stars, the earth, the very heavens glistened like +polished steel. Frost lay on the land thick as a coverlid. It hid +the east like clouds of smoke. Snow remained unmelted two feet from +the camp-fire.</p> +<p>And the fire alone saved these people from the enemy. If Sam +stooped for a moment to adjust his snow-shoe strap, he straightened +his back with a certain reluctance,—already the benumbing +preliminary to freezing had begun. If Dick, flipping his mitten +from his hand to light his pipe, did not catch the fire at the +second tug, he had to resume the mitten and beat the circulation +into his hand before renewing the attempt, lest the ends of his +fingers become frosted. Movement, always and incessantly, movement +alone could keep going the vital forces on these few coldest days +until the fire had been built to fight back the white death.</p> +<p>It was the land of ghosts. Except for the few hours at midday +these people moved in the gloom and shadow of a nether world. The +long twilight was succeeded by longer night, with its burnished +stars, its dead moon, its unearthly aurora. On the fresh snow were +the tracks of creatures, but in the flesh they glided almost +invisible. The ptarmigan's bead eye alone betrayed him, he had no +outline. The ermine's black tip was the only indication of his +presence. Even the larger animals,—the caribou, the +moose—had either turned a dull gray, or were so rimed by the +frost as to have lost all appearance of solidity. It was ever a +surprise to find these phantoms bleeding red, to discover that +their flesh would resist the knife. During the strife of the heavy +northwest storms one side of each tree had become more or less +plastered with snow, so that even their dark trunks flashed +mysteriously into and out of view. In the entire world of the great +white silence the only solid, enduring, palpable reality was the +tiny sledge train crawling with infinite patience across its +vastness.</p> +<p>White space, a feeling of littleness and impotence, twilight +gloom, burnished night, bitter cold, unreality, phantasmagoria, +ghosts like those which surged about Aeneas, and finally clogging, +white silence,—these were the simple but dreadful elements of +that journey which lasted, without event, from the middle of +November until the latter part of January.</p> +<p>Never in all that time was an hour of real comfort to be +anticipated. The labours of the day were succeeded by the +shiverings of the night. Exhaustion alone induced sleep; and the +racking chill of early morning alone broke it. The invariable diet +was meat, tea, and pemmican. Besides the resolution required for +the day's journey and the night's discomfort, was the mental +anxiety as to whether or not game would be found. Discouragements +were many. Sometimes with full anticipation of a good day's run, +they would consume hours in painfully dragging the sledge over +unexpected obstructions. At such times Wolf, always of an evil +disposition, made trouble. Thus besides the resolution of spirit +necessary to the work, there had to be pumped up a surplusage to +meet the demands of difficult dog-driving. And when, as often +happened, a band of the gray wolves would flank them within +smelling distance, the exasperation of it became almost unbearable. +Time and again Sam had almost forcibly to restrain Dick from using +the butt of his whip on Wolf's head.</p> +<p>Nor could they treat themselves in the weary succession of days +to an occasional visit with human beings. During the course of +their journey they investigated in turn three of the four trapping +districts of the Kabinikágam. But Sam's judgment advised +that they should not show themselves to the trappers. He argued +that no sane man would look for winter posts at this time of year, +and it might be difficult otherwise to explain the presence of +white men. It was quite easy to read by the signs how many people +were to be accounted for in each district, and then it was equally +easy to ambush in a tree, during the rounds for examination of the +traps, until their identities had all been established. It was +necessary to climb a tree in order to escape discovery by the +trapper's dog. Of course the trail of our travellers would be found +by the trapper, but unless he actually saw them he would most +probably conclude them to be Indians moving to the west. +Accordingly Dick made long detours to intercept the trappers, and +spent many cold hours waiting for them to pass, while Sam and the +girl hunted in another direction to replenish the supplies. In this +manner the frequenters of these districts had been struck from the +list. No one of them was Jingoss. There remained but one section, +and that the most northerly. If that failed, then there was nothing +to do but to retrace the long, weary journey up the +Kabinikágam, past the rapids where Dick had hurt himself, +over the portage, down the Mattawishgina, across the +Missinaíbie, on which they had started their travels, to the +country of the Nipissing. Discussing this possibility one +rest-time, Dick said:</p> +<p>"We'd be right back where we started. I think it would pay us to +go down to Brunswick House and get a new outfit. It's only about a +week up the Missináibie." Then, led by inevitable +association of ideas, "Wonder if those Crees had a good time? And I +wonder if they've knocked our friend Ah-tek, the Chippewa, on the +head yet? He was a bad customer."</p> +<p>"You better hope they have," replied Sam. "He's got it in for +you."</p> +<p>Dick shrugged his shoulders and laughed easily.</p> +<p>"That's all right," insisted the older man; "just the same, an +Injun never forgets and never fails to get even. You may think he's +forgotten, but he's layin' for you just the same," and then, +because they happened to be resting in the lea of a bank and the +sun was at its highest for the day, Sam went on to detail one +example after another from his wide observation of the tenacity +with which an Indian pursues an obligation, whether of gratitude or +enmity. "They'll travel a thousand miles to get even," he +concluded. "They'll drop the most important business they got, if +they think they have a good chance to make a killing. He'll run up +against you some day, my son, and then you'll have it out."</p> +<p>"All right," agreed Dick, "I'll take care of him. Perhaps I'd +better get organised; he may be laying for me around the next +bend."</p> +<p>"I don't know what made us talk about it," said Sam, "but +funnier things have happened to me." Dick, with mock solicitude, +loosened his knife.</p> +<p>But Sam had suddenly become grave. "I believe in those things," +he said, a little fearfully. "They save a man sometimes, and +sometimes they help him to get what he wants. It's a Chippewa we're +after; it's a Chippewa we've been talkin' about. They's something +in it."</p> +<p>"I don't know what you're driving at," said Dick.</p> +<p>"I don't know," confessed Sam, "but I have a kind of a hunch we +won't have to go back to the Nipissing." He looked gropingly about, +without seeing, in the manner of an old man.</p> +<p>"I hope your hunch is a good one," replied Dick. "Well, mush +on!"</p> +<p>The little cavalcade had made barely a dozen steps in advance +when Sam, who was leading, came to a dead halt.</p> +<p>"Well, what do you make of that?" he asked.</p> +<p>Across the way lay the trunk of a fallen tree. It had been +entirely covered with snow, whose line ran clear and unbroken its +entire length except at one point, where it dipped to a shallow +notch.</p> +<p>"Well, what do you make of that?" Sam inquired again.</p> +<p>"What?" asked Dick.</p> +<p>Sam pointed to the shallow depression in the snow covering the +prostrate tree-trunk.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINETEEN" id="CHAPTER_NINETEEN"></a>CHAPTER +NINETEEN</h2> +<p>Dick looked at his companion a little bewildered.</p> +<p>"Why, you must know as well as I do," he said, "somebody stepped +on top of that log with snow-shoes, and it's snowed since."</p> +<p>"Yes, but who?" insisted Sam.</p> +<p>"The trapper in this district, of course."</p> +<p>"Sure; and let me tell you this,—that trapper is the man +we're after. That's his trail."</p> +<p>"How do you know?"</p> +<p>"I'm sure. I've got a hunch."</p> +<p>Dick looked sceptical, then impressed. After all, you never +could tell what a man might not learn out in the Silent Places, and +the old woodsman had grown gray among woods secrets.</p> +<p>"We'll follow the trail and find his camp," pursued Sam.</p> +<p>"You ain't going to ambush him?" inquired Dick.</p> +<p>"What's the use? He's the last man we have to tend to in this +district, anyway. Even if it shouldn't be Jingoss, we don't care if +he sees us. We'll tell him we're travelling from York to Winnipeg. +It must be pretty near on the direct line from here."</p> +<p>"All right," said Dick.</p> +<p>They set themselves to following the trail. As the only +persistences of it through the last storm were to be found where +the snow-shoes had left deep notches on the fallen timber, this was +not an easy matter. After a time the affair was simplified by the +dogs. Dick had been breaking trail, but paused a moment to tie his +shoe. The team floundered ahead. After a moment it discovered the +half-packed snow of the old trail a foot below the newer surface, +and, finding it easier travel, held to it. Between the partial +success at this, and an occasional indication on the tops of fallen +trees, the woodsmen managed to keep the direction of the +fore-runner's travel.</p> +<p>Suddenly Dick stopped short in his tracks.</p> +<p>"Look there!" he exclaimed.</p> +<p>Before them was a place where a man had camped for the +night.</p> +<p>"He's travelling!" cried Sam.</p> +<p>This exploded the theory that the trail had been made by the +Indian to whom the trapping rights of the district belonged. At +once the two men began to spy here and there eagerly, trying to +reconstruct from the meagre vestiges of occupation who the camper +had been and what he had been doing.</p> +<p>The condition of the fire corroborated what the condition of the +trail had indicated. Probably the man had passed about three days +ago. The nature of the fire proclaimed him an Indian, for it was +small and round, where a white man's is long and hot. He had no +dogs; therefore his journey was short, for, necessarily, he was +carrying what he needed on his back. Neither on the route nor here +in camp were any indications that he had carried or was examining +traps; so the conclusion was that this trip was not merely one of +the long circles a trapper sometimes makes about the limits of his +domain. What, then, was the errand of a single man, travelling +light and fast in the dead of winter?</p> +<p>"It's the man we're after," said Sam, with conviction. "He's +either taken the alarm, or he's visiting."</p> +<p>"Look," called the girl from beneath the wide branches of a +spruce.</p> +<p>They went. Beneath a lower limb, whose fan had protected it from +the falling snow, was the single clear print of a snow-shoe.</p> +<p>"Hah!" cried Sam, in delight, and fell on his knees to examine +it. At the first glance he uttered another exclamation of pleasure, +for, though the shoe had been of the Ojibway pattern, in certain +modifications it suggested a more northerly origin. The toes had +been craftily upturned, the tails shortened, the webbing more +closely woven.</p> +<p>"It's Ojibway," induced Sam, over his shoulder, "but the man who +made it has lived among the Crees. That fits Jingoss. Dick, it's +the man we're after!"</p> +<p>It was by now almost noon. They boiled tea at the old camp site, +and tightened their belts for a stern chase.</p> +<p>That afternoon the head wind opposed them, exasperating, +tireless in its resistance, never lulling for a single instant. At +the moment it seemed more than could be borne. Near one o'clock it +did them a great despite, for at that hour the trail came to a +broad and wide lake. There the snow had fallen, and the wind had +drifted it so that the surface of the ice was white and smooth as +paper. The faint trail led accurately to the bank—and was +obliterated.</p> +<p>Nothing remained but to circle the shores to right and to left +until the place of egress was discovered. This meant long work and +careful work, for the lake was of considerable size. It meant that +the afternoon would go, and perhaps the day following, while the +man whose footsteps they were following would be drawing steadily +away.</p> +<p>It was agreed that May-may-gwán should remain with the +sledge, that Dick should circle to the right, and Sam to the left, +and that all three should watch each other carefully for a signal +of discovery.</p> +<p>But now Sam happened to glance at Mack, the wrinkle-nosed hound. +The sledge had been pulled a short distance out on the ice. Mack, +alternately whining and sniffing, was trying to induce his comrades +to turn slanting to the left.</p> +<p>"What's the matter with that dog?" he inquired on a sudden.</p> +<p>"Smells something; what's the difference? Let's get a move on +us," replied Dick, carelessly.</p> +<p>"Hold on," ordered Sam.</p> +<p>He rapidly changed the dog-harness in order to put Mack in the +lead.</p> +<p>"Mush! Mush on!" he commanded.</p> +<p>Immediately the hound, his nose low, uttered a deep, bell-like +note and struck on the diagonal across the lake.</p> +<p>"Come on," said Sam; "he's got it."</p> +<p>Across the white waste of the lake, against the bite of the +unobstructed wind, under the shelter of the bank opposite they ran +at slightly accelerated speed, then without pause into the forest +on the other side.</p> +<p>"Look," said the older woodsman, pointing ahead to a fallen +trunk. It was the trail.</p> +<p>"That was handy," commented Dick, and promptly forgot about it. +But Sam treasured the incident for the future.</p> +<p>And then, just before two o'clock, the wind did them a great +service. Down the long, straight lines of its flight came +distinctly the creak of snow-shoes. Evidently the traveller, +whoever he might be, was retracing his steps.</p> +<p>At once Sam overturned the sledge, thus anchoring the dogs, and +Dick ran ahead to conceal himself. May-may-gwán offered a +suggestion.</p> +<p>"The dogs may bark too soon," said she.</p> +<p>Instantly Sam was at work binding fast their jaws with buckskin +thongs. The girl assisted him. When the task was finished he ran +forward to join Dick, hidden in the bushes.</p> +<p>Eight months of toil focussed in the moment. The faint creaking +of the shoes came ever louder down the wind. Once it paused. Dick +caught his breath. Had the traveller discovered anything +suspicious? He glanced behind him.</p> +<p>"Where's the girl?" he hissed between his teeth. "Damn her, +she's warned him!"</p> +<p>But almost with Sam's reply the creaking began again, and after +an instant of indetermination continued its course.</p> +<p>Then suddenly the woodsmen, with a simultaneous movement, raised +their rifles, and with equal unanimity lowered them, gasping with +astonishment. Dick's enemy, Ah-tek, the renegade Chippewa of +Haukemah's band on the Missináibie, stepped from the +concealment of the bushes.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY"></a>CHAPTER +TWENTY</h2> +<p>Of the three the Indian was the first to recover.</p> +<p>"Bo' jou', bo' jou'," said he, calmly.</p> +<p>Sam collected himself to a reply. Dick said nothing, but fell +behind, with his rifle across his arm. All marched on in silence to +where lay the dog-sledge, guarded by May-may-gwán. The +Chippewa's keen eyes took in every detail of the scene, the +overturning of the sledge, the muzzling of the dogs, the general +nature of the equipment. If he made any deductions, he gave no +sign, nor did he evince any further astonishment at finding these +men so far north at such a time of year. Only, when he thought +himself unobserved, he cast a glance of peculiar intelligence at +the girl, who, after a moment's hesitation, returned it.</p> +<p>The occasion was one of elaborate courtesy. Sam ordered tea +boiled, and offered his tobacco. Over the fire he ventured a more +direct inquiry than his customary policy would have advised.</p> +<p>"My brother is a long journey from the Missináibie."</p> +<p>The Chippewa assented.</p> +<p>"Haukemah, then, hunts these districts."</p> +<p>The Chippewa replied no.</p> +<p>"My brother has left Haukemah."</p> +<p>Again the Chippewa denied, but after enjoying for a moment the +baffling of the old man's intentions, he volunteered +information.</p> +<p>"The trapper of this district is my brother. I have visited +him."</p> +<p>"It was a short visit for so long a journey. The trail is but +three days old."</p> +<p>Ah-tek assented gravely. Evidently he cared very little whether +or not his explanation was accepted.</p> +<p>"How many days to Winnipeg?" asked Sam.</p> +<p>"I have never been there," replied the Indian.</p> +<p>"We have summered in the region of the Missináibie," +proffered Sam. "Now we go to Winnipeg."</p> +<p>The Indian's inscrutable countenance gave no indication as to +whether or not he believed this. After a moment he knocked the +ashes from his pipe and arose, casting another sharp glance at +May-may-gwán. She had been busy at the sledge. Now she +approached, carrying simply her own blankets and clothing.</p> +<p>"This man," said she to the two, "is of my people. He returns to +them. I go with him."</p> +<p>The Chippewa twisted his feet into his snow-shoes, nodded to the +white men, and swung away on the back trail in the direction whence +our travellers had come. The girl, without more leave-taking, +followed close at his back. For an instant the crunch of shoes +splintered the frosty air. Then they rounded a bend. Silence fell +swift as a hawk.</p> +<p>"Well, I'll be damned!" ejaculated Dick at last. "Do you think +he was really up here visiting?"</p> +<p>"No, of course not," replied Sam. "Don't you see—"</p> +<p>"Then he came after the girl?"</p> +<p>"Good God, <i>no!</i>" answered Sam. "He—"</p> +<p>"Then he was after me," interrupted Dick again with growing +excitement. "Why didn't you let me shoot him, Sam—"</p> +<p>"Will you shut up and listen to me?" demanded the old man, +impatiently. "If he'd wanted you, he'd have got you when you were +hurt last summer; and if he'd wanted the girl, he'd have got her +then, too. It's all clear to me. He <i>has</i> been visiting a +friend,—perhaps his brother, as he said,—and he did +spend less than three days in the visit. What did he come for? Let +me tell you! That friend, or brother, is Jingoss, and he came up +here to warn him that we're after him. The Chippewa suspected us a +little on the Missináibie, but he wasn't sure. Probably he's +had his eye on us ever since."</p> +<p>"But why didn't he warn this Jingoss long ago, then?" objected +Dick.</p> +<p>"Because we fooled him, just as we fooled all the Injuns. We +<i>might</i> be looking for winter posts, just as we said. And then +if he came up here and told Jingoss we were after him, when really +we didn't know beans about Jingoss and his steals, and then this +Jingoss should skip the country and leave an almighty good fur +district all for nothing, that would be a nice healthy favour to do +for a man, wouldn't it! No, he had to be <i>sure</i> before he made +any moves. And he didn't get to be sure until he heard somehow from +some one who saw our trails that three people were travelling in +the winter up through this country. Then he piked out to warn +Jingoss."</p> +<p>"I believe you're right!" cried Dick.</p> +<p>"Of course I'm right. And another thing; if that's the case +we're pretty close there. How many more trappers are there in this +district? Just one! And since this Chippewa is going back on his +back trail within three days after he made it, he couldn't have +gone farther than that one man. And that one man must +be—"</p> +<p>"Jingoss himself!" finished Dick.</p> +<p>"Within a day and a half of us, anyway; probably much closer," +supplemented Sam. "It's as plain as a sledge-trail."</p> +<p>"He's been warned," Dick reminded him.</p> +<p>But Sam, afire with the inspiration of inductive reasoning, +could see no objection there.</p> +<p>"This Chippewa knew we were in the country," he argued, "but he +hadn't any idea we were so close. If he had, he wouldn't have been +so foolish as to follow his own back track when he was going out. I +don't know what his ideas were, of course, but he was almighty +surprised to see us here. He's warned this Jingoss, not more than a +day or so ago. But he didn't tell him to skedaddle at once. He +said, 'Those fellows are after you, and they're moseying around +down south of here, and probably they'll get up here in the course +of the winter. You'd probably better slide out 'till they get +done.' Then he stayed a day and smoked a lot, and started back. +Now, if Jingoss just thinks we're coming <i>some time</i>, and not +to-morrow, he ain't going to pull up stakes in such a hell of a +hurry. He'll pack what furs he's got, and he'll pick up what traps +he's got out. That would take him several days, anyway. My son, +we're in the nick of time!"</p> +<p>"Sam, you're a wonder," said Dick, admiringly. "I never could +have thought all that out."</p> +<p>"If that idea's correct," went on Sam, "and the Chippewa's just +come from Jingoss, why we've got the Chippewa's trail to follow +back, haven't we?"</p> +<p>"Sure!" agreed Dick, "all packed and broken."</p> +<p>They righted the sledge and unbound the dogs' jaws.</p> +<p>"Well, we got rid of the girl," said Dick, casually. "Damn +little fool. I didn't think she'd leave us that easy. She'd been +with us quite a while."</p> +<p>"Neither did I," admitted Sam; "but it's natural, Dick. We ain't +her people, and we haven't treated her very well, and I don't +wonder she was sick of it and took the first chance back. We've got +our work cut out for us now, and we're just as well off without +her."</p> +<p>"The Chippewa's a sort of public benefactor all round," said +Dick.</p> +<p>The dogs yawned prodigiously, stretching their jaws after the +severe muzzling. Sam began reflectively to undo the flaps of the +sledge.</p> +<p>"Guess we'd better camp here," said he. "It's getting pretty +late and we're due for one hell of a tramp to-morrow."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_ONE" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_ONE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE</h2> +<p>Some time during the night May-may-gwán rejoined them. +Sam was awakened by the demonstration of the dogs, at first +hostile, then friendly with recognition. He leaped to his feet, +startled at the apparition of a human figure. Dick sat up alert at +once. The fire had almost died, but between the glow of its embers +and the light of the aurora sifted through the trees they made her +out.</p> +<p>"Oh, for God's <i>sake!</i>" snarled Dick, and lay back again in +his blankets, but in a moment resumed his sitting position. "She +made her choice," he proffered vehemently, "make her stick to it! +Make her stick to it. She can't change her mind every other second +like this, and we don't <i>need</i> her!"</p> +<p>But Sam, piling dry wood on the fire, looked in her face.</p> +<p>"Shut up, Dick," he commanded sharply. "Something in this."</p> +<p>The young man stared at his companion an enigmatical instant, +hesitating as to his reply.</p> +<p>"Oh, all right," he replied at last with ostentatious +indifference. "I don't give a damn. Don't sit up too late with the +young lady. Good night!" He disappeared beneath his coverings, +plainly disgruntled, as, for a greater or less period of time, he +always was when even the least of his plans or points of view +required readjustment.</p> +<p>Sam boiled tea, roasted a caribou steak, knelt and removed the +girl's damp foot-gear and replaced it with fresh. Then he held the +cup to her lips, cut the tough meat for her with his hunting-knife, +even fed her as though she were a child. He piled more wood on the +fire, he wrapped about her shoulders one of the blankets with the +hare-skin lining. Finally, when nothing more remained to be done, +he lit his pipe and squatted on his heels close to her, lending her +mood the sympathy of human silence.</p> +<p>She drank the tea, swallowed the food, permitted the change of +her foot-gear, bent her shoulders to the blanket, all without the +appearance of consciousness. The corners of her lips were bent +firmly downward. Her eyes, fixed and exalted, gazed beyond the +fire, beyond the dancing shadows, beyond the world. After a long +interval she began to speak, low-voiced, in short disconnected +sentences.</p> +<p>"My brothers seek the Ojibway, Jingoss. They will take him to +Conjuror's House. But Jingoss knows that my brothers come. He has +been told by Ah-tek. He leaves the next sun. He is to travel to the +west, to Peace River. Now his camp is five hours to the north. I +know where it is. Jingoss has three dogs. He has much meat. He has +no gun but the trade-gun. I have learned this. I come to tell it to +my brothers."</p> +<p>"Why, May-may-gwán?" inquired Sam, gently.</p> +<p>She turned on him a look of pride.</p> +<p>"Have you thought I had left you for him?" she asked. "I have +learned these things."</p> +<p>Sam uttered an exclamation of dismay.</p> +<p>"What?" she queried with a slow surprise.</p> +<p>"But he, the Chippewa," Sam pointed out, "now he knows of our +presence. He will aid Jingoss; he will warn him afresh +to-night!"</p> +<p>May-may-gwán was again rapt in sad but ex alted +contemplation of something beyond. She answered merely by a +contemptuous gesture.</p> +<p>"But—" insisted Sam.</p> +<p>"I know," she replied, with conviction.</p> +<p>Sam, troubled he knew not why, leaned forward to arrange the +fire.</p> +<p>"How do you know, Little Sister?" he inquired, after some +hesitation.</p> +<p>She answered by another weary gesture. Again Sam hesitated.</p> +<p>"Little Sister," said he, at last, "I am an old man. I have seen +many years pass. They have left me some wisdom. They have made my +heart good to those who are in trouble. If it was not to return to +your own people, then why did you go with Ah-tek this morning?"</p> +<p>"That I might know what my brothers wished to know."</p> +<p>"And you think he told you all these things truly?" doubted +Sam.</p> +<p>She looked directly at him.</p> +<p>"Little Father," said she slowly, "long has this man wanted me +to live in his wigwam. For that he joined Haukemah's +band;—because I was there. I have been good in his eyes. +Never have I given him favour. My favour always would unlock his +heart."</p> +<p>"But are you sure he spoke truth," objected Sam. "You have never +looked kindly on him. You left Haukemah's band to go with us. How +could he trust you?"</p> +<p>She looked at him bravely.</p> +<p>"Little Father," she replied, "there is a moment when man and +woman trust utterly, and when they say truly what lies in their +hearts."</p> +<p>"Good God!" cried Sam, in English.</p> +<p>"It was the only way," she answered the spirit of his +interjection. "I had known before only his forked tongue."</p> +<p>"Why did you do this, girl? You had no right, no reason. You +should have consulted us."</p> +<p>"Little Father," said she, "the people of your race are a +strange people. I do not understand them. An evil is done them, and +they pass it by; a good is done them, and they do not remember. +With us it is different. Always in our hearts dwell the good and +the evil."</p> +<p>"What good have we done to you?" asked Sam.</p> +<p>"Jibiwánisi has looked into my heart," she replied, +lapsing into the Indian rhetoric of deep emotion. "He has looked +into my heart, and in the doorway he blots out the world. At the +first I wanted to die when he would not look on me with favour. +Then I wanted to die when I thought I should never possess him. Now +it is enough that I am near him, that I lay his fire, and cook his +tea and caribou, that I follow his trail, that I am ready when he +needs me, that I can raise my eyes and see him breaking the trail. +For when I look up at him the sun breaks out, and the snow shines, +and there is a light under the trees. And when I think of raising +my eyes, and he not there, nor anywhere near, then my heart +freezes, Little Father, freezes with loneliness."</p> +<p>Abruptly she arose, casting aside the blanket and stretching her +arms rigid above her head. Then with equal abruptness she stooped, +caught up her bedding, spread it out, and lay down stolidly to +rest, turning her back to both the white men.</p> +<p>But Sam remained crouched by the fire until the morning hour of +waking, staring with troubled eyes.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_TWO" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_TWO"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO</h2> +<p>Later in the morning Dick attempted some remark on the subject +of the girl's presence. At once Sam whirled on him with a gust of +passion utterly unlike his ordinary deliberate and even habit.</p> +<p>"Shut your damned mouth!" he fairly shouted.</p> +<p>Dick whistled in what he thought was a new enlightenment, and +followed literally the other's vigorous advice. Not a syllable did +he utter for an hour, by which time the sun had risen. Then he +stopped and pointed to a fresh trail converging into that they were +following.</p> +<p>The prints of two pairs of snow-shoes joined; those of one +returned.</p> +<p>Sam gasped. Dick looked ironical. The interpretation was plain +without the need of words. The Chippewa and the girl, although they +had started to the southeast, had made a long detour in order again +to reach Jingoss. These two pairs of snow-shoe tracks marked where +they had considered it safe again to strike into the old trail made +by the Chippewa in going and coming. The one track showed where +Ah-tek had pushed on to rejoin his friend; the other was that of +the girl returning for some reason the night before, perhaps to +throw them off the scent.</p> +<p>"Looks as if they'd fooled you, and fooled you good," said Dick, +cheerfully.</p> +<p>For a single instant doubt drowned Sam's faith in his own +insight and in human nature.</p> +<p>"Dick," said he, quietly, "raise your eyes."</p> +<p>Not five rods farther on the trail the two had camped for the +night. Evidently Ah-tek had discovered his detour to have lasted +out the day, and, having satisfied himself that his and his +friend's enemies were not ahead of him, he had called a halt. The +snow had been scraped away, the little fire built, the ground +strewn with boughs. So far the indications were plain and to be +read at a glance. But upright in the snow were two snow-shoes, and +tumbled on the ground was bedding.</p> +<p>Instantly the two men leaped forward. May-may-gwán, her +face stolid and expressionless, but her eyes glowing, stood +straight and motionless by the dogs. Together they laid hold of the +smoothly spread top blanket and swept it aside. Beneath was a +jumble of warmer bedding. In it, his fists clenched, his eyes half +open in the horrific surprise of a sudden calling, lay the Chippewa +stabbed to the heart.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_THREE" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_THREE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE</h2> +<p>The silence of the grave lay over the white world. Deep in the +forest a tree detonated with the frost. There by the cold last +night's camp the four human figures posed, motionless as a wind +that has died. Only the dogs, lolling, stretching, sending the warm +steam of their breathing into the dead air, seemed to stand for the +world of life, and the world of sentient creatures. And yet their +very presence, unobtrusive in the forest shadows, by contrast +thrust farther these others into the land of phantoms and of +ghosts.</p> +<p>Then quietly, as with one consent, the three living ones turned +away. The older woodsman stepped into the trail, leading the way +for the dogs; the younger woodsman swung in behind at the gee-pole; +the girl followed. Once more; slowly, as though reluctant, the +forest trees resumed their silent progress past those three toiling +in the treadmill of the days. The camp dropped back; it confused +itself in the frost mists; it was gone, gone into the mystery and +the vastness of the North, gone with its tragedy and its symbol of +the greatness of human passion, gone with its one silent watcher +staring at the sky, awaiting the coming of day. The frost had +mercifully closed again about its revelation. No human eye would +ever read that page again.</p> +<p>Each of the three seemed wrapped in the splendid isolation of +his own dream. They strode on sightless, like somnambulists. Only +mechanically they kept the trail, and why they did so they could +not have told. No coherent thoughts passed through their brains. +But always the trees, frost-rimed, drifted past like phantoms; +always the occult influences of the North loomed large on their +horizon like mirages, dwindled in the actuality, but threatened +again in the bigness of mystery when they had passed. The North was +near, threatening, driving the terror of her tragedy home to the +hearts of these staring mechanical plodders, who now travelled they +knew not why, farther and farther into the depths of dread.</p> +<p>But the dogs stopped, and Billy, the leader, sniffed audibly in +inquiry of what lay ahead. Instantly, in the necessity for action, +the spell broke. The mystery which had lain so long at their +horizon, which but now had crept in, threatening to smother them, +rolled back to its accustomed place. The north withheld her +hand.</p> +<p>Before them was another camp, one that had been long used. A +conical tepee or wigwam, a wide space cleared of snow, much +débris, racks and scaffolds for the accommodation of +supplies, all these attested long occupancy.</p> +<p>Sam jerked the cover from his rifle, and cast a hasty glance at +the nipple to see if it was capped. Dick jumped forward and +snatched aside the opening into the wigwam.</p> +<p>"Not at home!" said he.</p> +<p>"Gone," corrected Sam, pointing to a fresh trail beyond.</p> +<p>At once the two men turned their attention to this. After some +difficulty they established the fact of a three-dog team. Testing +the consistency of the snow they proved a heavy load on the +toboggan.</p> +<p>"I'm afraid that means he's gone for good," said Sam.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="Illustration242" id= +"Illustration242"></a> <a href="images/242.jpg"><img src= +"images/242.jpg" width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>Dick jumped forward and snatched aside the opening into the +wigwam</b> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<p>A further examination of camp corroborated this. The teepee had +been made double, with the space between the two walls stuffed with +moss, so evidently it had been built as permanent winter quarters. +The fact of its desertion at this time of year confirmed the +reasoning as to the identity of its occupant and the fact of his +having been warned by the dead Chippewa. Skulls of animals +indicated a fairly prosperous fur season. But the skulls of +animals, a broken knife, a pile of balsam-boughs, and the deserted +wigwam were all that remained. Jingoss had taken with him his +traps, his pelts, his supplies.</p> +<p>"That's a good thing," concluded Sam, "a mighty good thing. It +shows he ain't much scared. He don't suspect we're anywhere's near +him; only that it ain't very healthy to spend the winter in this +part of the country. If he'd thought we was close, he wouldn't have +lugged along a lot of plunder; he'd be flying mighty light."</p> +<p>"That's right," agreed Dick.</p> +<p>"And in that case he isn't travelling very fast. We'll soon +catch up."</p> +<p>"He only left this morning," supplemented Dick, examining the +frost-crystals in the new-cut trail.</p> +<p>Without wasting further attention, they set out in pursuit. The +girl followed. Dick turned to her.</p> +<p>"I think we shall catch him very soon," said he, in Ojibway.</p> +<p>The girl's face brightened and her eyes filled. The simple words +admitted her to confidence, implied that she, too, had her share in +the undertaking, her interest in its outcome. She stepped forward +with winged feet of gladness.</p> +<p>Luckily a light wind had sprung up against them. They proceeded +as quietly and as swiftly as they could. In a short time they came +to a spot where Jingoss had boiled tea. This indicated that he must +have started late in the morning to have accomplished only so short +a distance before noon. The trail, too, became fresher.</p> +<p>Billy, the regular lead dog, on this occasion occupied his +official position ahead, although, as has been pointed out, he was +sometimes alternated with the hound, who now ran just behind him. +Third trotted Wolf, a strong beast, but a stupid; then Claire, at +the sledge, sagacious, alert, ready to turn the sledge from +obstruction. For a long, time all these beasts, with the strange +intelligence of animals much associated with man, had entertained a +strong interest in the doings of their masters. Something besides +the day's journey was in the wind. They felt it through their keen +instinctive responsiveness to the moods of those over them; they +knew it by the testimony of their bright eyes which told them that +these investigations and pryings were not all in an ordinary day's +travel. Investigations and pryings appeal to a dog's nature. +Especially did Mack, the hound, long to be free of his harness that +he, too, might sniff here and there in odd nooks and crannies, +testing with that marvelously keen nose of his what his masters +regarded so curiously. Now at last he understood from the frequent +stops and examinations that the trail was the important thing. From +time to time he sniffed of it deeply, saturating his memory with +the quality of its effluvia. Always it grew fresher. And then at +last the warm animal scent rose alive to his nostrils, and he +lifted his head and bayed.</p> +<p>The long, weird sound struck against the silence with the impact +of a blow. Nothing more undesirable could have happened. Again Mack +bayed, and the echoing bell tones of his voice took on a strange +similarity to a tocsin of warning. Rustling and crackling across +the men's fancies the influences of the North moved invisible, +alert, suddenly roused.</p> +<p>Dick whirled with an exclamation, throwing down and back the +lever of his Winchester, his face suffused, his eye angry.</p> +<p>"Damnation!" exclaimed Bolton, anticipating his intention, and +springing forward in time to strike up the muzzle of the rifle, +though not soon enough to prevent the shot.</p> +<p>Against the snow, plastered on a distant tree, the bullet hit, +scattering the fine powder; then ricochetted, shrieking with +increasing joy as it mounted the upper air. After it, as though +released by its passage from the spell of the great frost, trooped +the voices and echoes of the wilderness. In the still air such a +racket would carry miles.</p> +<p>Sam looked from the man to the dog.</p> +<p>"Well, between the two of you!" said he.</p> +<p>Dick sprang forward, lashing the team with his whip.</p> +<p>"After him!" he shouted.</p> +<p>They ran in a swirl of light snow. In a very few moments they +came to a bundle of pelts, a little pile of traps, the unnecessary +impediments discarded by the man they pursued. So near had they +been to a capture.</p> +<p>Sam, out of breath, peremptorily called a halt.</p> +<p>"Hold on!" he commanded. "Take it easy. We can't catch him like +this. He's travelling light, and he's one man, and he has a fresh +team. He'll pull away from us too easy, and leave us with worn-out +dogs." The old man sat and deliberately filled his pipe.</p> +<p>Dick fumed up and down, chafing at the delay, convinced that +something should be done immediately, but at a loss to tell what it +should be.</p> +<p>"What'll we do, then?" he asked, after a little.</p> +<p>"He leaves a trail, don't he?" inquired Sam. "We must follow +it."</p> +<p>"But what good—how can we ever catch up?"</p> +<p>"We've got to throw away our traps and extra duffle. We've got +to travel as fast as we can without wearing ourselves out. He may +try to go too fast, and so we may wear him down. It's our only +show, anyway. If we lose him now, we'll never find him again. That +trail is all we have to go by."</p> +<p>"How if it snows hard? It's getting toward spring storms."</p> +<p>"If it snows hard—well—" The old man fell silent, +puffing away at his pipe. "One thing I want you to understand," he +continued, looking up with a sudden sternness, "don't you ever take +it on yourself to shoot that gun again. We're to take that man +alive. The noise of the shot to-day was a serious thing; it gave +Jingoss warning, and perhaps spoiled our chance to surprise him. +But he might have heard us anyway. Let that go. But if you'd have +killed that hound as you started out to do, you'd have done more +harm than your fool head could straighten out in a lifetime. That +hound—why—he's the best thing we've got. I'd—I'd +almost rather lose our rifles than him—" he trailed off again +into rumination.</p> +<p>Dick, sobered as he always was when his companion took this +tone, inquired why, but received no answer. After a moment Sam +began to sort the contents of the sledge, casting aside all but the +necessities.</p> +<p>"What's the plan?" Dick ventured.</p> +<p>"To follow."</p> +<p>"How long do you think it will be before we catch him?"</p> +<p>"God knows."</p> +<p>The dogs leaned into their harness, almost falling forward at +the unexpected lightness of the load. Again the little company +moved at measured gait. For ten minutes nothing was said. Then +Dick:</p> +<p>"Sam," he said, "I think we have just about as much chance as a +snowball in hell."</p> +<p>"So do I," agreed the old woodsman, soberly.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_FOUR" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_FOUR"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR</h2> +<p>They took up the trail methodically, as though no hurry existed. +At the usual time of the evening they camped. Dick was for pushing +on an extra hour or so, announcing himself not in the least tired, +and the dogs fresh, but Sam would have none of it.</p> +<p>"It's going to be a long, hard pull," he said. "We're not going +to catch up with him to-day, or to-morrow, or next day. It ain't a +question of whether you're tired or the dogs are fresh to-night; +it's a question of how you're going to be a month from now."</p> +<p>"We won't be able to follow him a month," objected Dick.</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"It'll snow, and then we'll lose th' trail. The spring snows +can't be far off now. They'll cover it a foot deep."</p> +<p>"Mebbe," agreed Sam, inconclusively.</p> +<p>"Besides," pursued Dick, "he'll be with his own people in less +than a month, and then there won't be any trail to follow."</p> +<p>Whereupon Sam looked a little troubled, for this, in his mind, +was the chief menace to their success. If Jingoss turned south to +the Lake Superior country, he could lose himself among the Ojibways +of that region; and, if all remained true to him, the white men +would never again be able to get trace of him. <i>If all remained +true to him:</i>—on the chance of that Sam was staking his +faith. The Honourable the Hudson's Bay Company has been established +a great many years; it has always treated its Indians justly; it +enjoys a tremendous prestige for infallibility. The bonds of race +are strong, but the probabilities were good that in the tribes with +whom Jingoss would be forced to seek sanctuary would be some +members, whose loyalty to the Company would out-balance the rather +shadowy obligation to a man they had never seen before. Jingoss +might be betrayed. The chances of it were fairly good. Sam Bolton +knew that the Indian must be perfectly aware of this, and doubted +if he would take the risk. A single man with three dogs ought to +run away from three pursuers with only four. Therefore, the old +woodsman thought himself justified in relying at least on the +meagre opportunity a stern chase would afford.</p> +<p>He did not know where the Indian would be likely to lead him. +The checker-board of the wilderness lay open. As he had before +reflected, it would be only too easy for Jingoss to keep between +himself and his pursuers the width of the game. The Northwest was +wide; the plains great; the Rocky Mountains lofty and full of +hiding-places,—it seemed likely he would turn west. Or the +deep forests of the other coast offered unlimited opportunities of +concealment,—the east might well be his choice. It did not +matter particularly. Into either it would not be difficult to +follow; and Sam hoped in either to gain a sight of his prize before +the snow melted.</p> +<p>The Indian, however, after the preliminary twists and turns of +indecision, turned due north. For nearly a week Sam thought this +must be a ruse, or a cast by which to gain some route known to +Jingoss. But the forests began to dwindle; the muskegs to open. The +Land of Little Sticks could not be far distant, and beyond them was +the Barren Grounds. The old woodsman knew the defaulter for a +reckless and determined man. Gradually the belief, and at last the +conviction, forced itself on him that here he gamed with no +cautious player. The Indian was laying on the table the stakes of +life or death. He, too, had realised that the test must be one of +endurance, and in the superbness of his confidence he had +determined not to play with preliminary half measures, but to apply +at once the supreme test to himself and his antagonists. He was +heading directly out into the winter desert, where existed no game +but the single big caribou herd whose pastures were so wide that to +meet them would be like encountering a single school of dolphins in +all the seven seas.</p> +<p>As soon as Sam discovered this, he called Dick's attention to +it.</p> +<p>"We're in for it," said he, "he's going to take us out on the +Barren Grounds and lose us."</p> +<p>"If he can," supplemented Dick.</p> +<p>"Yes, if he can," agreed Sam. After a moment he went on, +pursuing his train of thought aloud, as was his habit.</p> +<p>"He's thinking he has more grub than we have; that's about what +it amounts to. He thinks he can tire us out. The chances are we'll +find no more game. We've got to go on what we have. He's probably +got a sledge-load;—and so have we;—but he has only one +to feed, and three dogs, and we have three and four dogs."</p> +<p>"That's all right; he's our Injun," replied Dick, voicing the +instinct of race superiority which, after all, does often seem to +accomplish the impossible. "It's too bad we have the girl with us," +he added, after a moment.</p> +<p>"Yes, it is," agreed Sam. Yet it was most significant that now +it occurred to neither of them that she might be abandoned.</p> +<p>The daily supply of provisions was immediately cut to a minimum, +and almost at once they felt the effects. The north demands hard +work and the greatest resisting power of the vitality; the vitality +calls on the body for fuel; and the body in turn insists on food. +It is astonishing to see what quantities of nourishment can be +absorbed without apparent effect. And when the food is denied, but +the vitality is still called upon, it is equally astonishing to see +how quickly it takes its revenge. Our travellers became lean in two +days, dizzy in a week, tired to the last fibre, on the edge of +exhaustion. They took care, however, not to step over that +edge.</p> +<p>Sam Bolton saw to it. His was not only the bodily labour, but +the mental anxiety. His attitude was the tenseness of a helmsman in +a heavy wind, quivering to the faintest indication, ready to give +her all she will bear, but equally ready to luff this side of +disaster. Only his equable mind could have resisted an almost +overpowering impulse toward sporadic bursts of speed or lengthening +of hours. He had much of this to repress in Dick. But on the other +hand he watched zealously against the needless waste of even a +single second. Every expedient his long woods life or his native +ingenuity suggested he applied at once to the problem of the +greatest speed, the least expenditure of energy to a given end, the +smallest consumption of food compatible with the preservation of +strength. The legitimate travel of a day might amount to twenty or +thirty miles. Sam added an extra five or ten to them. And that five +or ten he drew from the living tissues of his very life. They were +a creation, made from nothing, given a body by the individual +genius of the man. The drain cut down his nervous energy, made him +lean, drew the anxious lines of an incipient exhaustion across his +brow.</p> +<p>At first, as may be gathered, the advantages of the game seemed +to be strongly in the Indian's favour. The food supply, the +transportation facilities, and advantage of position in case game +should be encountered were all his. Against him he need count +seriously only the offset of dogged Anglo-Saxon grit. But as the +travel defined itself, certain compensations made themselves +evident.</p> +<p>Direct warfare was impossible to him. He possessed only a +single-barrelled muzzle-loading gun of no great efficiency. In case +of ambush he might, with luck, be able to kill one of his pursuers, +but he would indubitably be captured by the other. He would be +unable to approach them at night because of their dogs. His +dog-team was stronger, but with it he had to break trail, which the +others could utilise without further effort. Even should his +position in advance bring him on game, without great luck, he would +be unable to kill it, for he was alone and could not leave his team +for long. And his very swiftness in itself would react against him, +for he was continually under the temptation daily to exceed by a +little his powers.</p> +<p>These considerations the white men at first could not see; and +so, logically, they were more encouraged by them when at last they +did appear. And then in turn, by natural reaction when the glow had +died, the great discouragement of the barren places fell on their +spirits. They plodded, seeing no further than their daily necessity +of travel. They plodded, their eyes fixed to the trail, which led +always on toward the pole star, undeviating, as a deer flies in a +straight line hoping to shake off the wolves.</p> +<p>The dense forest growth was succeeded in time by the low spruce +and poplar thickets; these in turn by the open reaches planted like +a park with the pointed firs. Then came the Land of Little Sticks, +and so on out into the vast whiteness of the true North, where the +trees are liliputian and the spaces gigantic beyond the measures of +the earth; where living things dwindle to the significance of black +specks on a limitless field of white, and the aurora crackles and +shoots and spreads and threatens like a great inimical and +magnificent spirit.</p> +<p>The tendency seemed toward a mighty simplification, as though +the complexities of the world were reverting toward their original +philosophic unity. The complex summer had become simple autumn; the +autumn, winter; now the very winter itself was apparently losing +its differentiations of bushes and trees, hills and valleys, +streams and living things. The growths were disappearing; the hills +were flattening toward the great northern wastes; the rare +creatures inhabiting these barrens took on the colour of their +environment. The ptarmigan matched the snow,—the +fox,—the ermine. They moved either invisible or as +ghosts.</p> +<p>Little by little such dwindling of the materials for diverse +observation, in alliance with the too-severe labour and the +starving, brought about a strange concentration of ideas. The inner +world seemed to undergo the same process of simplification as the +outer. Extraneous considerations disappeared. The entire cosmos of +experience came to be an expanse of white, themselves, and the +Trail. These three reacted one on the other, and outside of them +there was no reaction.</p> +<p>In the expanse of white was no food: their food was dwindling; +the Trail led on into barren lands where no food was to be had. +That was the circle that whirled insistent in their brains.</p> +<p>At night they sank down, felled by the sheer burden of +weariness, and no matter how exhausted they might be the Trail +continued, springing on with the same apparently tireless energy +toward its unknown goal in the North. Gradually they lost sight of +the ultimate object of their quest. It became obscured by the +immediate object, and that was the following of the Trail. They +forgot that a man had made it, or if for a moment it did occur to +them that it was the product of some agency outside of and above +itself, that agent loomed vaguely as a mysterious, extra-human +power, like the winds or the cold or the great Wilderness itself. +It did not seem possible that he could feel the need for food, for +rest, that ever his vital forces could wane. In the north was +starvation for them, a starvation to which they drew ever nearer +day by day, but irresistibly the notion obsessed them that this +forerunner, the forerunner of the Trail, proved no such material +necessities, that he drew his sustenance from his environment in +some mysterious manner not to be understood. Always on and on and +on the Trail was destined to lead them until they died, and then +the maker of it,—not Jingoss, not the Weasel, the defaulter, +the man of flesh and blood and nerves and thoughts and the +capacities for suffering,—but a being elusive as the aurora, +an embodiment of that dread country, a servant of the unfriendly +North, would return as he had done.</p> +<p>Over the land lay silence. The sea has its undertone on the +stillest nights; the woods are quiet with an hundred lesser noises; +but here was absolute, terrifying, smothering silence,—the +suspension of all sound, even the least,—looming like a +threatening cloud larger and more dreadful above the cowering +imagination. The human soul demanded to shriek aloud in order to +preserve its sanity, and yet a whisper uttered over against the +heavy portent of this universal stillness seemed a profanation that +left the spirit crouched beneath a fear of retribution. And then +suddenly the aurora, the only privileged voice, would crackle like +a silken banner.</p> +<p>At first the world in the vastness of its spaces seemed to +become bigger and bigger. Again abruptly it resumed its normal +proportions, but they, the observers of it, had been struck small. +To their own minds they seemed like little black insects crawling +painfully. In the distance these insects crawled was a +disproportion to the energy expended, a disproportion +disheartening, filling the soul with the despair of an +accomplishment that could mean anything in the following of that +which made the Trail.</p> +<p>Always they ate pemmican. Of this there remained a fairly +plentiful supply, but the dog meat was running low. It was +essential that the team be well fed. Dick or Sam often travelled +the entire day a quarter of a mile one side or the other, hoping +thus to encounter game, but without much success. A fox or so, a +few plarmigan, that was all. These they saved for the dogs. Three +times a day they boiled tea and devoured the little square of +pemmican. It did not supply the bulk their digestive organs needed, +and became in time almost nauseatingly unpalatable, but it +nourished. That, after all, was the main thing. The privation +carved the flesh from their muscles, carved the muscles themselves +to leanness.</p> +<p>But in spite of the best they could do, the dog feed ran out. +There remained but one thing to do. Already the sledge was growing +lighter, and three dogs would be quite adequate for the work. They +killed Wolf, the surly and stupid "husky." Every scrap they saved, +even to the entrails, which froze at once to solidity. The +remaining dogs were put on half rations, just sufficient to keep up +their strength. The starvation told on their tempers. Especially +did Claire, the sledge-dog, heavy with young, and ravenous to feed +their growth, wander about like a spirit, whining mournfully and +sniffing the barren breeze.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_FIVE" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_FIVE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE</h2> +<p>The journey extended over a month. The last three weeks of it +were starvation. At first this meant merely discomfort and the +bearing of a certain amount of pain. Later it became acute +suffering. Later still it developed into a necessity for proving +what virtue resided in the bottom of these men's souls.</p> +<p>Perforce now they must make a choice of what ideas they would +keep. Some things must be given up, just as some things had to be +discarded when they had lightened the sledge. All the lesser lumber +had long since gone. Certain bigger things still remained.</p> +<p>They held grimly to the idea of catching the Indian. Their +natural love of life held tenaciously to a hope of return. An +equally natural hope clung to the ridiculous idea that the +impossible might happen, that the needle should drop from the +haystack, that the caribou might spring into their view from the +emptiness of space. Now it seemed that they must make a choice +between the first two.</p> +<p>"Dick," said Bolton, solemnly, "we've mighty little pemmican +left. If we turn around now, it'll just about get us back to the +woods. If we go on farther, we'll have to run into more food, or +we'll never get out."</p> +<p>"I knew it," replied Dick.</p> +<p>"Well?"</p> +<p>Dick looked at him astonished. "Well, what?" he inquired.</p> +<p>"Shall we give it up?"</p> +<p>"Give it <i>up</i>!" cried the young man. "Of course not; what +you thinking of?"</p> +<p>"There's the caribou," suggested Sam, doubtfully; "or maybe +Jingoss has more grub than he's going to need. It's a slim +chance."</p> +<p>They still further reduced the ration of pemmican. The +malnutrition began to play them tricks. It dizzied their brains, +swarmed the vastness with hordes of little, dancing black specks +like mosquitoes. In the morning every muscle of their bodies was +stiffened to the consistency of rawhide, and the movements +necessary to loosen the fibres became an agony hardly to be +endured. Nothing of voluntary consciousness remained, could remain, +but the effort of lifting the feet, driving the dogs, following the +Trail; but involuntary consciousness lent them strange +hallucinations. They saw figures moving across the snow, but when +they steadied their vision, nothing was there.</p> +<p>They began to stumble over nothing; occasionally to fall. In +this was added effort, but more particularly added annoyance. They +had continually to watch their footsteps. The walking was no longer +involuntary, but they had definitely to think of each movement +necessary to the step, and this gave them a further reason for +preoccupation, for concentration. Dick's sullenness returned, more +terrible than in the summer. He went forward with his head down, +refusing to take notice of anything. He walked: that was to him the +whole of existence.</p> +<p>Once reverting analogously to his grievance of that time, he +mentioned the girl, saying briefly that soon they must all die, and +it was better that she die now. Perhaps her share of the pemmican +would bring them to their quarry. The idea of return—not +abandoned, but persistently ignored—thrust into prominence +this other,—to come to close quarters with the man they +pursued, to die grappled with him, dragging him down to the same +death by which these three perished. But Sam would have none of it, +and Dick easily dropped the subject, relapsing into his grim +monomania of pursuit.</p> +<p>In Dick's case even the hope of coming to grapples was fading. +He somehow had little faith in his enemy. The man was too +intangible, too difficult to gauge. Dick had not caught a glimpse +of the Indian since the pursuit began. The young man realised +perfectly his own exhaustion; but he had no means of knowing +whether or not the Indian was tiring. His faith waned, though his +determination did not. Unconsciously he substituted this monomania +of pursuit. It took the place of the faith he felt slipping from +him—the faith that ever he would see the <i>fata morgana</i> +luring him out into the Silent Places.</p> +<p>Soon it became necessary to kill another dog. Dick, with a +remnant of his old feeling, pleaded for the life of Billy, his pet. +Sam would not entertain for a moment the destruction of the hound. +There remained only Claire, the sledge-dog, with her pathetic brown +eyes, and her affectionate ways of the female dog. They went to +kill her, and discovered her in the act of defending the young to +which she had just given birth. Near at hand crouched Mack and +Billy, their eyes red with famine, their jaws a-slaver, eager to +devour the newborn puppies. And in the grim and dreadful sight Sam +Bolton seemed at last to glimpse the face of his terrible +antagonist.</p> +<p>They beat back the dogs, and took the puppies. These they killed +and dressed. Thus Claire's life was bought for her by the sacrifice +of her progeny.</p> +<p>But even that was a temporary respite. She fell in her turn, and +was devoured, to the last scrap of her hide. Dick again intervened +to save Billy, but failed. Sam issued his orders the more +peremptorily as he felt his strength waning, and realised the +necessity of economising every ounce of it, even to that required +in the arguing of expedients. Dick yielded with slight resistance, +as he had yielded in the case of the girl. All matters but the one +were rapidly becoming unimportant to him. That concentration of his +forces which represented the weapon of his greatest utility, was +gradually taking place. He was becoming an engine of dogged +determination, an engine whose burden the older man had long +carried on his shoulders, but which now he was preparing to launch +when his own strength should be gone.</p> +<p>At last there was left but the one dog, Mack, the hound, with +the wrinkled face and the long, hanging ears. He developed +unexpected endurance and an entire willingness, pulling strongly on +the sledge, waiting in patience for his scanty meal, searching the +faces of his masters with his wise brown eyes, dumbly sympathetic +in a trouble whose entirety he could not understand.</p> +<p>The two men took turns in harnessing themselves to the sledge +with Mack. The girl followed at the gee-pole.</p> +<p>May-may-gwán showed the endurance of a man. She made no +complaint. Always she followed, and followed with her mind alert. +Where Dick shut obstinately his faculties within the bare necessity +of travel, she and her other companion were continually alive to +the possibilities of expedient. This constituted an additional +slight but constant drain on their vital forces.</p> +<p>Starvation gained on them. Perceptibly their strength was +waning. Dick wanted to kill the other dog. His argument was +plausible. The toboggan was now very light. The men could draw it. +They would have the dog-meat to recruit their strength.</p> +<p>Sam shook his head. Dick insisted. He even threatened force. But +then the woodsman roused his old-time spirit and fairly beat the +young man into submission by the vehemence of his anger. The effort +left him exhausted. He sank back into himself, and refused, in the +apathy of weariness, to give any explanation.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_SIX" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_SIX"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX</h2> +<p>By now it was the first week in March. The weather began to +assume a new aspect. During the winter months it had not snowed, +for the moisture had all been squeezed from the air, leaving it +crisp, brilliant, sparkling. Now the sun, long hesitant, at last +began to swing up the sky. Far south the warmer airs of spring were +awakening the Kansas fields. Here in the barren country the steel +sky melted to a haze. During the day, when the sun was up, the +surface of the snow even softened a little, and a very perceptible +warmth allowed them to rest, their parkas thrown back, without +discomfort.</p> +<p>The men noticed this, and knew it as the precursor of the spring +snow-fall. Dick grew desperately uneasy, desperately anxious to +push on, to catch up before the complete obliteration of the trail, +when his resources would perforce run out for lack of an object to +which to apply them. He knew perfectly well that this must be what +the Indian had anticipated, the reason why he had dared to go out +into the barren grounds, and to his present helpless lack of a +further expedient the defaulter's confidence in the natural +sequence seemed only too well justified. Sam remained +inscrutable.</p> +<p>The expected happened late one afternoon. All day the haze had +thickened, until at last, without definite transition, it had +become a cloud covering the entire sky. Then it had snowed. The +great, clogging flakes sifted down gently, ziz-zagging through the +air like so many pieces of paper. They impacted softly against the +world, standing away from each other and from the surface on which +they alighted by the full stretch of their crystal arms. In an hour +three inches had fallen. The hollows and depressions were filling +to the level; the Trail was growing indistinct.</p> +<p>Dick watched from the shelter of a growing despair. Never had he +felt so helpless. This thing was so simple, yet so effective; and +nothing he could do would nullify its results. As sometimes in a +crisis a man will give his whole attention to a trivial thing, so +Dick fastened his gaze on a single snow-shoe track on the edge of a +covered bowlder. By it he gauged the progress of the storm. When at +last even his imagination could not differentiate it from the +surface on either side, he looked up. The visible world was white +and smooth and level. No faintest trace of the Trail remained. +East, west, north, south, lay uniformity. The Indian had +disappeared utterly from the face of the earth.</p> +<p>The storm lightened and faint streaks of light shot through the +clouds.</p> +<p>"Well, let's be moving," said Sam.</p> +<p>"Moving where?" demanded Dick, bitterly. But the old man led +forward the hound.</p> +<p>"Remember the lake where we lost the track of that Chippewa?" he +inquired. "Well, a foot of light snow is nothing. Mush on, +Mack!"</p> +<p>The hound sniffed deep, filling his nostrils with the feather +snow, which promptly he sneezed out. Then he swung off easily on +his little dog-trot, never at fault, never hesitant, picking up the +turns and twistings of the Indian's newer purpose as surely as a +mind-reader the concealed pin.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="Illustration274" id= +"Illustration274"></a> <a href="images/274.jpg"><img src= +"images/274.jpg" width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>The hound sniffed deep, filling his nostrils with the feather +snow</b> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<p>For Jingoss had been awaiting eagerly this fall of snow, as this +immediate change of direction showed. He was sure that now they +could no longer follow him. It was for this he had lured them +farther and farther into the wilderness, waiting for the great +enemy of them all to cover his track, to throw across his vanishing +figure her ultimate denial of their purposes. At once, convinced of +his safety, he turned to the west and southwest.</p> +<p>At just what moment he discovered that he was still followed it +was impossible to determine. But very shortly a certain indecision +could be read in the signs of his journeying. He turned to the +south, changed his mind, doubled on his tracks like a rabbit, +finally, his purpose decided, he shot away on the direct line again +for the frozen reaches of desolation in the north.</p> +<p>The moment's flicker of encouragement lighted by the success of +the dog, fell again to blackness as the three faced further +incursion into the land of starvation. They had allowed themselves +for a moment to believe that the Indian might now have reached the +limit of his intention; that now he might turn toward a chance at +least of life. But this showed that his purpose, or obstinacy or +madness remained unchanged, and this newer proof indicated that it +possessed a depth of determination that might lead to any extreme. +They had to readjust themselves to the idea. Perforce they had to +extend their faith, had to believe in the caribou herds. From every +little rise they looked abroad, insisting on a childish confidence +in the existence of game. They could not afford to take the +reasonable view, could not afford to estimate the chances against +their encountering in all that vastness of space the single +pin-point where grazed abundance.</p> +<p>From time to time, thereafter, the snow fell. On the mere fact +of their persistence it had litle effect; but it clogged their +snow-shoes, it wore them down. A twig tripped them; and the efforts +of all three were needed to aid one to rise. A dozen steps were all +they could accomplish without rest; a dozen short, stumbling steps +that were, nevertheless, so many mile-posts in the progress to +their final exhaustion. When one fell, he lay huddled, unable at +once to rally his vital forces to attempt the exertion of regaining +his feet. The day's journey was pitifully short, pitifully +inadequate to the imperious demands of that onward-leading Trail, +and yet each day's journey lessened the always desperate chance of +a return to the game country. In spite of that, it never again +crossed their minds that it might be well to abandon the task. They +might die, but it would be on the Trail, and the death clutch of +their fingers would still be extended toward the north, where dwelt +their enemy, and into whose protective arms their quarry had +fled.</p> +<p>As his strength ebbed Dick Herron's energies concentrated more +and more to his monomania of pursuit. The round, full curves of his +body had shrunken to angles, the fresh tints of his skin had turned +to leather, the flesh of his cheeks had sunken, his teeth showed in +the drawing back of his lips. All these signs spoke of exhaustion +and of ultimate collapse. But as the case grew more desperate, he +seemed to discover in some unsuspected quality of his spirit, or +perhaps merely of his youth, a fitful and wonderful power. He +collapsed from weakness, to be sure; but in a moment his iron will, +apparently angered to incandescence, got him to his feet and on his +way with an excess of energy. He helped the others. He urged the +dog. And then slowly the fictitious vigour ran out. The light, the +red, terrible glare of madness, faded from his eye; it became +glazed and lifeless; his shoulders dropped; his head hung; he +fell.</p> +<p>Gradually in the transition period between the darkness of +winter and the coming of spring the world took on an unearthly +aspect. It became an inferno of light without corresponding warmth, +of blinding, flaring, intolerable light reflected from the snow. It +became luminous, as though the ghosts of the ancient days of +incandescence had revisited the calendar. It was raw, new, huge, +uncouth, embryonic, adapted to the production of tremendous +monsters, unfit for the habitation of tiny men with delicate +physical and mental adjustments. Only to the mind of a Caliban +could it be other than terrifying. Things grew to a size out of all +reason. The horizon was infinitely remote, lost in snow-mists, +fearful with the large-blown mirages of little things. Strange and +indeterminate somethings menaced on all sides, menaced in greater +and greater threat, until with actual proximity they mysteriously +disappeared, leaving behind them as a blind to conceal their real +identity such small matters as a stunted shrub, an exposed rock, +the shadow of a wind-rift on the snow. And low in the sky danced in +unholy revel the suns, sometimes as many as eight of them, gazing +with the abandoned red eyes of debauchees on the insignificant +travellers groping feebly amid phantasmagoria.</p> +<p>The great light, the dazzle, the glitter, the incessant movement +of the mirages, the shining of the mock suns, all these created an +impression of heat, of light, of the pleasantness of a warmed land. +Yet still persisted, only modified by the sun, the cold of the +northern winter. And this denial of appearance sufficed to render +unreal all the round globe, so that at any moment the eye +anticipated its crumbling like a dust apple, with its cold, its +vastness, its emptiness, its hunger, its indecently many suns, +leaving the human soul in the abyss of space. The North threw over +them the power of her spell, so that to them the step from life to +death seemed a short, an easy, a natural one to take.</p> +<p>Nevertheless their souls made struggle, as did their bodies. +They fought down the feeling of illusion just as they had fought +down the feelings of hunger, of weariness, and of cold. Sam +fashioned rough wooden spectacles with tiny transverse slits +through which to look, and these they assumed against the +snow-blindness. They kept a sharp watch for freezing. Already their +faces were blackened and parched by the frost, and cracked through +the thick skin down to the raw. Sam had frozen his great toe, and +had with his knife cut to the bone in order to prevent +mortification. They tried to talk a little in order to combat by +unison of spirit the dreadful influence the North was bringing to +bear. They gained ten feet as a saint of the early church gained +his soul for paradise.</p> +<p>Now it came to the point where they could no longer afford to +eat their pemmican. They boiled it, along with strips of the +rawhide dog-harness, and drank the soup. It sufficed not at all to +appease the pain of their hunger, nor appreciably did it give them +strength, but somehow it fed the vital spark. They endured fearful +cramps. So far had their faculties lost vigour that only by a +distinct effort of the will could they focus their eyes to the +examination of any object.</p> +<p>Their obsessions of mind were now two. They followed the Trail; +they looked for the caribou herds. After a time the improbability +became tenuous. They actually expected the impossible, felt +defrauded at not obtaining it, cried out weakly against their ill +fortune in not encountering the herd that was probably two thousand +miles away. In its withholding the North seemed to play unfairly. +She denied them the chances of the game.</p> +<p>And the Trail! Not the freezing nor the starvation nor the +illusion were so potent in the deeper discouragement of the spirit +as that. Always it led on. They could see it; they could see its +direction; that was all. Tireless it ran on and on and on. For all +they knew the Indian, hearty and confident in his wilderness +strength, might be watching them at every moment, laughing at the +feeble thirty feet their pain bought them, gliding on swiftly in an +hour farther than they could travel in a day. This possibility +persisted until, in their minds, it became the fact. They endowed +their enemy with all they themselves lacked; with strength, with +swiftness, with the sustenance of life. Yet never for a moment did +it occur to them to abandon the pursuit.</p> +<p>Sam was growing uncertain in his movements; Dick was plainly +going mad. The girl followed; that was all one could say, for +whatever suffering she proved was hidden beneath race stolidity, +and more nobly beneath a great devotion.</p> +<p>And then late one afternoon they came to a bloody spot on the +snow. Here Jingoss had killed. Here he had found what had been +denied them, what they needed so sorely. The North was on his side. +He now had meat in plenty, and meat meant strength, and strength +meant swiftness, and swiftness meant the safety of this world for +him and the certainty of the next for them. The tenuous hope that +had persisted through all the psychological pressure the North had +brought to bear, the hope that they had not even acknowledged to +themselves, the hope based merely on the circumstance that they did +not <i>know</i>, was routed by this one fact. Now they could no +longer shelter behind the flimsy screen of an ignorance of their +enemy's condition. They knew. The most profound discouragement +descended on them.</p> +<p>But even yet they did not yield to the great antagonist. The +strength of meat lacked them: the strength of despair remained. A +rapid dash might bring them to grapples. And somewhere in the +depths of their indomitable spirits, somewhere in the line of their +hardy, Anglo-Saxon descent, they knew they would find the necessary +vitality.</p> +<p>Stars glittered like sparks on polished steel. On the northwest +wind swooped the chill of the winter's end, and in that chill was +the breath of the North. Sam Bolton, crushed by the weight of a +great exhaustion, recognised the familiar menace, and raised his +head, gazing long from glazed eyes out into the Silent Places.</p> +<p>"Not yet!" he said aloud.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_SEVEN" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN</h2> +<p>But the next morning he was unable to rise. The last drop of his +vitality had run out. At length the connection between his will and +his body had been severed, so that the latter was no longer under +his command. After the first moment he knew well enough what this +meant, knew that here he must die, here he must lie crushed finally +under the sheer weight of his antagonist. It was as though she, the +great North, had heard his defiant words the night before, and thus +proved to him their emptiness.</p> +<p>And yet the last reserves of the old man's purpose were not yet +destroyed. Here he must remain, it is true, but still he possessed +next his hand the human weapon he had carried so far and so +painfully by the exercise of his ingenuity and the genius of his +long experience. He had staggered under its burden as far as he +could; now was the moment for launching it. He called the young man +to him.</p> +<p>"I cannot go on," said he, in gasps. "Leave the sledge. Take the +dog. Do not lose him. Travel fast. You must get him by to-morrow +night. Sleep some to-night. Travel fast."</p> +<p>Dick nodded. He understood. Already the scarlet hate, the dogged +mad glare of a set purpose was glazing his vision. It was the +sprint at the end of the race. He need no longer save himself.</p> +<p>He took a single blanket and the little shreds of dog meat that +remained. Some of the pemmican, a mere scrap, he left with Sam. +Mack he held in leash.</p> +<p>"I will live five days," went on Sam, "perhaps six. I will try +to live. If you should come back in that time,—with +meat—the caribou—you understand." His voice trailed +away, unwilling to mock the face of probability with such a +chance.</p> +<p>Dick nodded again. He had nothing to say. He wrung the old man's +hand and turned away.</p> +<p>Mack thrust his nose forward. They started. Sam, left alone, +rolled himself again in his thick coverings under the snow, which +would protect him from the night cold. There he would lie +absolutely motionless, hoarding the drops of his life. From time to +time, at long intervals, he would taste the pemmican. And +characteristically enough, his regret, his sorrow, was, not that he +must be left to perish, not even that he must acknowledge himself +beaten, but that he was deprived of the chance for this last +desperate dash before death stooped.</p> +<p>When Dick stepped out on the trail, May-may-gwán +followed. After a moment he took cognisance of the crunch of her +snow-shoes behind him. He turned and curtly ordered her back. She +persisted. Again he turned, his face nervous with all the strength +he had summoned for the final effort, shouting at her hoarsely, +laying on her the anger of his command. She seemed not to hear him. +He raised his fist and beat her, hitting her again and again, +finally reaching her face. She went down silently, without even a +moan. But when he stared back again, after the next dozen steps, +she had risen and was still tottering on along the Trail.</p> +<p>He threw his hands up with a gesture of abandonment. Then +without a word, grim and terrible, he put his head down and +started.</p> +<p>He never looked back. Madness held him. Finesse, saving, the +crafty utilising of small advantages had had their day. It was the +moment for brute strength. All day he swung on in a swirl of snow, +tireless. The landscape swam about him, the white glare searched +out the inmost painful recesses of his brain. He knew enough to +keep his eyes shut most of the time, trusting to Mack. At noon he +divided accurately the entire food supply with the animal. At night +he fasted. The two, man and dog, slept huddled close together for +the sake of the warmth. At midnight the girl crept in broken and +exhausted.</p> +<p>The next day Dick was as wonderful. A man strong in meat could +not have travelled so. The light snow whirled behind him in a +cloud. The wind of his going strained the capote from his emaciated +face. So, in the nature of the man, he would go until the end. Then +he would give out all at once, would fall from full life to +complete dissolution of forces. Behind him, pitifully remote, +pitifully bent, struggling futilely, obsessed by a mania as strong +as that of these madmen who persisted even beyond the end of all +things, was the figure of the girl. She could not stand upright, +she could not breathe, yet she, too, followed the Trail, that dread +symbol of so many hopes and ideals and despairs. Dick did not +notice her, did not remember her existence, any more than he +remembered the existence of Sam Bolton, of trees, of streams, of +summer and warm winds, of the world, of the devil, of God, of +himself.</p> +<p>All about him the landscape swayed like mist; the suns danced +indecent revel; specks and blotches, the beginning of +snow-blindness, swam grotesquely projected into a world less real +than they. Living things moved everywhere. Ordinarily the man paid +no attention to them, knowing them for what they were, but once, +warned by some deep and subtle instinct, he made the effort to +clear his vision and saw a fox. By another miracle he killed it. +The carcass he divided with his dog. He gave none of it to the +girl.</p> +<p>By evening of the second day he had not yet overtaken his +quarry. But the trail was evidently fresher, and the fox's meat +gave him another chance. He slept, as before, with Mack the hound; +and, as before, May-may-gwán crept in hours later to fall +exhausted.</p> +<p>And over the three figures, lying as dead, the North whirred in +the wind, waiting to stoop, triumphing, glorying that she had +brought the boasts of men to nothing.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_EIGHT" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_EIGHT"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT</h2> +<p>The next morning was the third day. There was no delay in +getting started. All Dick had to do was to roll his blanket. He +whirled on, still with his impetuous, fictitious vigour unimpaired. +The girl staggered after him ten feet, then pitched forward. He +turned uncertainly. She reached out to touch him. Her eyes said a +farewell. It was the end.</p> +<p>Dick stood a moment, his eyes vague. Then mechanically he put +his head down, mechanically he looked for the Trail, mechanically +he shot away alone, alone except for the faithful, gaunt hound, the +only thing that remained to him out of a whole world of living +beings.</p> +<p>To his fevered vision the Trail was becoming fresher. Every step +he took gave him the impression of so much gained, as though the +man he was in pursuit of was standing still waiting to be taken. +For the first time in months the conviction of absolute success +took possession of him. His sight cleared, his heart beat strong, +his whole being quivered with vigour. The illusion of the North +faded away like a mist. The world was a flat plain of snow, with +here and there a stunted spruce, knee-high, protruding above it, +and with here and there an inequality of hidden bowlders and +rounded knolls. Far off was the horizon, partially hidden in the +normal snow-fog of this time of year. All objects were stationary, +solid, permanent. Even the mock suns were only what was to be +expected in so high a latitude. Dick was conscious of arguing these +things to himself with extraordinary accuracy of logic. He proved a +glow of happiness in the clarity of his brain, in the ease of his +body, in the certainty of his success. The candle flared clear +before its expiration.</p> +<p>For some moments he enjoyed this feeling of well-being, then a +disturbing element insinuated itself. At first it was merely an +uneasiness, which he could not place, a vague and nebulous +irritation, a single crumpled rose-leaf. Then it grew to the +proportions of a menace which banked his horizon with thunder, +though the sun still shone overhead. Finally it became a terror, +clutching him at the throat. He seemed to feel the need of +identifying it. By an effort he recognised it as a lack. Something +was missing without which there was for him no success, no +happiness, no well-being, no strength, no existence. That something +he must find. In the search his soul descended again to the region +of dread, the regions of phantasmagoria. The earth heaved and +rocked and swam in a sea of cold and glaring light. Strange +creatures, momentarily changing shape and size, glided monstrous +across the middle distance. The mock suns danced in the +heavens.</p> +<p>Twice he stopped short and listened. In his brain the lack was +defining itself as the lack of a sound. It was something he had +always been used to. Now it had been taken away. The world was +silent in its deprivation, and the silence stifled him. It had been +something so usual that he had never noticed it; its absence called +it to his attention for the first time. So far in the circle his +mind ran; then swung back. He beat his forehead. Great as were the +sufferings of his body, they were as nothing compared with these +unreal torturings of his maddened brain.</p> +<p>For the third time he stopped, his head sidewise in the attitude +of listening. At once easily, without effort, he knew. All these +months behind him had sounded the <i>crunch</i> of snow-shoes. All +these months about him, wrapping him so softly that he had never +been conscious of it, had been the worship of a great devotion. Now +they were taken away, he missed them. His spirit, great to +withstand the hardships of the body, strong to deny itself, so that +even at the last he had resisted the temptation of hunger and +divided with his dog, in its weakened condition could not stand the +exposure to the loneliness, to the barren winds of a peopleless +world.</p> +<p>A long minute he stood, listening, demanding against all reason +to hear the <i>crunch, crunch, crunch</i> that should tell him he +was not alone. Then, without a glance at the Trail he had followed +so long, he turned back.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_NINE" id= +"CHAPTER_TWENTY_NINE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE</h2> +<p>The girl was lying face down as he had left her. Already the +windrow of the snow was beginning to form, like the curve of a wave +about to break over her prostrate body. He sat down beside her, and +gathered her into his arms, throwing the thick three-point blanket +with its warm lining over the bent forms of both. At once it was as +though he had always been there, his back to the unceasing winds, a +permanence in the wilderness. The struggles of the long, long trail +withdrew swiftly into the past—they had never been. And +through the unreality of this feeling shot a single illuminating +shaft of truth: never would he find in himself the power to take +the trail again. The bubbling fever-height of his energies suddenly +drained away.</p> +<p>Mack, the hound, lay patiently at his feet. He, too, suffered, +and he did not understand, but that did not matter; his +faithfulness could not doubt. For a single instant it occurred to +the young man that he might kill the dog, and so procure +nourishment with which to extricate himself and the girl; but the +thought drifted idly through his mind, and so on and away. It did +not matter. He could never again follow that Trail, and a few days +more or less—</p> +<p>The girl sighed and opened her eyes. They widened.</p> +<p>"Jibiwánisi!" she whispered.</p> +<p>Her eyes remained fixed on his face, puzzling out the mere +facts. Then all at once they softened.</p> +<p>"You came back," she murmured.</p> +<p>Dick did not reply. He drew her a little closer into his +arms.</p> +<p>For a long time they said nothing. Then the girl:</p> +<p>"It has come, Jibiwánisi, we must die," and after a +moment, "You came back."</p> +<p>She closed her eyes again, happily.</p> +<p>"Why did you come back?" she asked after a while.</p> +<p>"I do not know," said Dick.</p> +<p>The snow sifted here and there like beach sand. Occasionally the +dog shook himself free of it, but over the two human beings it +flung, little by little, the whiteness of its uniformity, a warm +mantle against the freezing. They became an integral part of the +landscape, permanent as it, coeval with its rocks and hills, +ancient as the world, a symbol of obscure passions and instincts +and spiritual beauties old as the human race.</p> +<p>Abruptly Dick spoke, his voice harsh.</p> +<p>"We die here, Little Sister. I do not regret. I have done the +best in me. It is well for me to die. But this is not your affair. +It was not for you to give your life. Had you not followed you +would now be warm in the wigwams of your people. This is heavy on +my heart."</p> +<p>"Was it for this you came back to me?" she inquired.</p> +<p>Dick considered. "No," he replied.</p> +<p>"The south wind blows warm on me," she said, after a moment.</p> +<p>The man thought her mind wandered with the starvation, but this +was not the case. Her speech had made one of those strange lapses +into rhetoric so common to the savage peoples.</p> +<p>"Jibiwánisi," she went on solemnly, "to me now this is a +land where the trees are green and the waters flow and the sun +shines and the fat deer are in the grasses. My heart sings like the +birds. What should I care for dying? It is well to die when one is +happy."</p> +<p>"Are you happy, May-may-gwán?" asked Dick.</p> +<p>For answer she raised her eyes to his. Freed of the distraction +of another purpose, clarified by the near approach of death, his +spirit looked, and for the first time understood.</p> +<p>"May-may-gwán, I did not know," said he, awed.</p> +<p>He meant that he had not before perceived her love for him. She +thought he had not before realised his love for her. Her own +affection seemed to her as self-evident as the fact that her eyes +were black.</p> +<p>"Yes, yes," she hastened to comfort what she supposed must be +his distress, "I know. But you turned back."</p> +<p>She closed her eyes again and appeared to doze in a happy dream. +The North swooped above them like some greedy bird of prey.</p> +<p>Gradually in his isolation and stillness Dick began to feel +this. It grew on him little by little. Within a few hours, by grace +of suffering and of imminent death, he came into his woodsman's +heritage of imagination. Men like Sam Bolton gained it by patient +service, by living, by the slow accumulations of years, but in +essence it remained the same. Where before the young man had seen +only the naked, material facts, now he felt the spiritual presence, +the calm, ruthless, just, terrible Enemy, seeking no combat, +avoiding none, conquering with a lofty air of predestination, +inevitable, mighty. His eyes were opened, like the prophet's of +old. The North hovered over him almost palpable. In the strange +borderland of mingled illusion and reality where now he and +starvation dwelt he thought sometimes to hear voices, the voices of +his enemy's triumph.</p> +<p>"Is it done?" they asked him, insistently. "Is it over? Are you +beaten? Is your stubborn spirit at last bowed down, humiliated, +crushed? Do you relinquish the prize,—and the struggle? Is it +done?"</p> +<p>The girl stirred slightly in his arms. He focussed his eyes. +Already the day had passed, and the first streamers of the aurora +were crackling in the sky. They reduced this day, this year, this +generation of men to a pin-point in time. The tragedy enacting +itself on the snow amounted to nothing. It would soon be over: it +occupied but one of many, many nights—wherein the aurora +would crackle and shoot forth and ebb back in precisely the same +deathful, living way, as though the death of it were the death in +this world, but the life of it were a thing celestial and alien. +The moment, to these three who perished the most important of all +the infinite millions of millions that constitute time, was +absolutely without special meaning to the wonderful, flaming, +unearthly lights of the North.</p> +<p>Mack, the hound, lay in the position he had first assumed, his +nose between his outstretched forepaws. So he had lain all that day +and that night. So it seemed he must intend to lie until death took +him. For on this dreadful journey Mack had risen above the +restrictions imposed by his status as a zoological species, had +ceased to be merely a dog, and by virtue of steadfastness, of +loyalty, of uncomplaining suffering, had entered into the higher +estate of a living being that has fearlessly done his best in the +world before his call to leave it.</p> +<p>The girl opened her eyes.</p> +<p>"Jibiwánisi," she said, faintly, "the end is come."</p> +<p>Agonized, Dick forced himself to consciousness of the landscape. +It contained moving figures in plenty. One after the other he +brought them within the focus of scrutiny and dissolved them into +thin air. If only the caribou herds—</p> +<p>He looked down again to meet her eyes.</p> +<p>"Do not grieve. I am happy, Jibiwánisi," she +whispered.</p> +<p>After a little, "I will die first," and then, "This land and +that—there must be a border. I will be waiting there. I will +wait always. I will not go into the land until you come. I will +wait to see it—with you. Oh, Jibiwánisi," she cried +suddenly, with a strength and passion in startling contrast to her +weakness. "I am yours, yours, yours! You are mine." She half raised +herself and seized his two arms, searching his eyes with terror, +trying to reassure herself, to drive off the doubts that suddenly +had thronged upon her. "Tell me," she shook him by the arm.</p> +<p>"I am yours," Dick lied, steadily; "my heart is yours, I love +you."</p> +<p>He bent and kissed her on the lips. She quivered and closed her +eyes with a deep sigh.</p> +<p>Ten minutes later she died.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY"></a>CHAPTER +THIRTY</h2> +<p>This was near the dawn of the fourth day. Dick remained always +in the same attitude, holding the dead girl in his arms. Mack, the +hound, lay as always, loyal, patient to the last. After the girl's +departure the wind fell and a great stillness seemed to have +descended on the world.</p> +<p>The young man had lost the significance of his position, had +forgotten the snow and cold and lack of food, had forgotten even +the fact of death which he was hugging to his breast. His powers, +burning clear in the spirit, were concentrated on the changes +taking place within himself. By these things the world of manhood +was opened to him; he was no longer a boy. To most it comes as a +slow growth. With him it was revelation. The completeness of it +shook him to the foundations of life. He took no account of the +certainty of his own destruction. It seemed to him, in the +thronging of new impressions, that he might sit there forever, a +buddha of contemplation, looking on the world as his maturity had +readjusted it.</p> +<p>Never now could he travel the Silent Places as he had +heretofore, stupidly, blindly, obstinately, unthinkingly, worse +than an animal in perception. The wilderness he could front +intelligently, for he had seen her face. Never now could he conduct +himself so selfishly, so brutally, so without consideration, as +though he were the central point of the system, as though there +existed no other preferences, convictions, conditions of being that +might require the readjustment of his own. He saw these others for +the first time. Never now could he live with his fellow beings in +such blindness of their motives and the passions of their hearts. +His own heart, like a lute, was strung to the pitch of humanity. +Never now could he be guilty of such harm as he had unthinkingly +accomplished on the girl. His eyes were opened to human suffering. +The life of the world beat through his. The compassion of the +greater humanity came to him softly, as a gift from the portals of +death. The full savour of it he knew at last, knew that finally he +had rounded out the circle of his domain.</p> +<p>This was what life required of his last consciousness. Having +attained to it, the greater forces had no more concern with him. +They left him, a poor, weak, naked human soul exposed to the +terrors of the North. For the first time he saw them in all their +dreadfulness. They clutched him with the fingers of cruel suffering +so that his body was wracked with the tortures of dissolution. They +flung before his eyes the obscene, unholy shapes of illusion. They +filled his ears with voices. He was afraid. He cowered down, +covering his eyes with his forearms, and trembled, and sobbed, and +uttered little moans. He was alone in the world, alone with enemies +who had him in their power and would destroy him. He feared to look +up. The man's spirit was broken. All the accumulated terrors which +his resolute spirit had thrust from him in the long months of +struggle, rushed in on him now that his guard was down. They rioted +in the empty chambers of his soul.</p> +<p>"Is it done?" they shrieked in triumph. "Is it over? Are you +beaten? Is your spirit crushed? Is the victory ours? Is it +done?"</p> +<p>Dick shivered and shrank as from a blow.</p> +<p>"Is it done?" the voices insisted. "Is it over? Are you beaten? +Is it done?"</p> +<p>The man shrieked aloud in agony.</p> +<p>"Oh, my God!" he cried. "Oh, yes, yes, yes! I am beaten. I can +do nothing. Kill me. It is done."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY_ONE" id= +"CHAPTER_THIRTY_ONE"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE</h2> +<p>As though these words were a signal, Mack, the hound, who had up +to now rested as motionless as though frozen to his place, raised +himself on his haunches and gazed earnestly to the north.</p> +<p>In the distance Dick seemed to make out an object moving. As he +had so often done before, by an effort he brought his eyes to +focus, expecting, as also had happened so often before, that the +object would disappear. But it persisted, black against the snow. +Its outlines could not be guessed; its distance could not be +estimated, its direction of travel could not be determined. Only +the bare fact of its existence was sure. Somewhere out in the waste +it, moving, antithesised these other three black masses on the +whiteness, the living man, the living animal, the dead girl.</p> +<p>Dick variously identified it. At one moment he thought it a +marten near at hand; then it became a caribou far away; then a fox +between the two. Finally, instantaneously, as though at a bound it +had leaped from indeterminate mists to the commonplace glare of +every day, he saw it was a man.</p> +<p>The man was moving painfully, lifting each foot with an +appearance of great effort, stumbling, staggering sideways from +time to time as though in extreme weakness. Once he fell. Then he +recovered the upright as though necklaced with great weights. His +hands were empty of weapons. In the uncertainty of his movements he +gradually approached.</p> +<p>Now Dick could see the great emaciation of his features. The +bones of his cheeks seemed to press through his skin, which was +leathery and scabbed and cracked to the raw from much frosting. His +lips drew tight across his teeth, which grinned in the face of +exhaustion like the travesty of laughter on a skull. His eyes were +lost in the caverns of their sockets. His thin nostrils were wide, +and through them and through the parted lips the breath came and +went in strong, rasping gasps, audible even at this distance of two +hundred paces. One live thing this wreck of a man expressed. His +forces were near their end, but such of them as remained were +concentrated in a determination to go on. He moved painfully, but +he moved; he staggered, but he always recovered; he fell, and it +was a terrible labour to rise, but always he rose and went on.</p> +<p>Dick Herron, sitting there with the dead girl across his knees, +watched the man with a strange, detached curiosity. His mind had +slipped back into its hazes. The world of phantasms had resumed its +sway. He was seeing in this struggling figure a vision of himself +as he had been, the self he had transcended now, and would never +again resume. Just so he had battled, bringing to the occasion +every last resource of the human spirit, tearing from the deeps of +his nature the roots where life germinated and throwing them +recklessly before the footsteps of his endeavour, emptying himself, +wringing himself to a dry, fibrous husk of a man that his Way might +be completed. His lips parted with a sigh of relief that this was +all over. He was as an old man whose life, for good or ill, success +or failure, is done, and who looks from the serenity of age on +those who have still their youth to spend, their years to dole out +day by day, painfully, in the intense anxiety of the moral purpose, +as the price of life. In a spell of mysticism he sat there +waiting.</p> +<p>The man plodded on, led by some compelling fate, to the one spot +in the white immensity where were living creatures. When he had +approached to within fifty paces, Dick could see his eyes. They +were tight closed. As the young man watched, the other opened them, +but instantly blinked them shut again as though he had encountered +the searing of a white-hot iron. Dick Herron understood. The man +had gone snow-blind.</p> +<p>And then, singularly enough for the first time, it was borne in +on him who this man was, what was the significance of his return. +Jingoss, the renegade Ojibway, the defaulter, the maker of the +dread, mysterious Trail that had led them so far into this grim +land, Jingoss was blind, and, imagining himself still going north, +still treading mechanically the hopeless way of his escape, had +become bewildered and turned south.</p> +<p>Dick waited, mysteriously held to inaction, watching the useless +efforts of this other from the vantage ground of a wonderful +fatalism,—as the North had watched him. The Indian plodded +doggedly on, on, on. He entered the circle of the little camp. Dick +raised his rifle and pressed its muzzle against the man's +chest.</p> +<p>"Stop!" he commanded, his voice croaking harsh across the +stillness.</p> +<p>The Indian, with a sob of mingled emotion, in which, strangely +enough, relief seemed the predominant note, collapsed to the +ground. The North, insistent on the victory but indifferent to the +stake, tossed carelessly the prize at issue into the hands of her +beaten antagonist.</p> +<p>And then, dim and ghostly, rank after rank, across the middle +distance drifted the caribou herds.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><a name="Illustration312" id= +"Illustration312"></a> <a href="images/312.jpg"><img src= +"images/312.jpg" width="45%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"Stop!" he commanded, his voice croaking harsh across the +stillness</b> +<br /> +<br /></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY_TWO" id= +"CHAPTER_THIRTY_TWO"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO</h2> +<p>It was beyond the middle of summer. The day had been hot, but +now the velvet night was descending. The canoe had turned into the +channel at the head of the island on which was situated Conjuror's +House. The end of the journey was at hand.</p> +<p>Dick paddled in the bow. His face had regained its freshness, +but not entirely its former boyish roundness. The old air of +bravado again sat his spirit—a man's nature persists to the +end, and immortal and unquenchable youth is a gift of the +gods—but in the depths of his strange, narrow eyes was a new +steadiness, a new responsibility, the well-known, quiet, competent +look invariably a characteristic of true woodsmen. At his feet lay +the dog, one red-rimmed eye cocked up at the man who had gone down +to the depths in his company.</p> +<p>The Indian Jingoss sat amidships, his hands bound strongly with +buckskin thongs, a man of medium size, broad face, beady eyes with +surface lights. He had cost much: he was to be given no chance to +escape. Always his hands remained bound with the buckskin thongs, +except at times when Dick or Sam stood over him with a rifle. At +night his wrists were further attached to one of Sam's. Mack, too, +understood the situation, and guarded as jealously as did his +masters.</p> +<p>Sam wielded the steersman's paddle. His appearance was +absolutely unaffected by this one episode in a long life.</p> +<p>They rounded the point into the main sweep of the east river, +stole down along the bank in the gathering twilight, and softly +beached their canoe below the white buildings of the Factory. With +a muttered word of command to their captive, they disembarked and +climbed the steepness of the low bluff to the grass-plot above. The +dog followed at their heels.</p> +<p>Suddenly the impression of this year, until now so vividly a +part of the present, was stricken into the past, the past of +memory. Up to the very instant of topping the bluff it had been +life; now it was experience.</p> +<p>For the Post was absolutely unchanged from that other summer +evening of over a year ago when they had started out into the +Silent Places. The familiarity of this fact, hitherto, for some +strange reason, absolutely unexpected, reassured them their places +in the normal world of living beings. The dead vision of the North +had left in their spirits a residuum of its mysticism. Their +experience of her power had induced in them a condition of mind +when it would not have surprised them to discover the world shaken +to its foundations, as their souls had been shaken. But here were +familiar, peaceful things, unchanged, indifferent even to the +passing of time. Involuntarily they drew a deep breath of relief, +and, without knowing it, re-entered a sanity which had not been +entirely theirs since the snows of the autumn before.</p> +<p>Over by the guns, indistinct in the falling twilight, the +accustomed group of <i>voyageurs</i> and post-keepers were +chatting, smoking, humming songs in the accustomed way. The low +velvet band of forest against the sky; the dim squares of the +log-houses punctuated with their dots of lamplight; the masses of +the Storehouse, the stockade, the Factory; the long flag-staff like +a mast against the stars; the constant impression of human life and +activity,—these anodynes of accustomedness steadied these +men's faith to the supremacy of human institutions.</p> +<p>On the Factory veranda could be dimly made out the figures of a +dozen men. They sat silent. Occasionally a cigar glowed brighter +for a moment, then dulled. Across a single square of subdued light +the smoke eddied.</p> +<p>The three travellers approached, Sam Bolton in the lead, peering +through the dusk in search of his chief. In a moment he made him +out, sitting, as always, square to the world, his head sunk +forward, his eyes gleaming from beneath the white tufts of his +eyebrows. At once the woodsmen mounted the steps.</p> +<p>No one stirred or spoke. Only the smokers suspended their cigars +in mid-air a few inches from their faces in the most perfect +attitude of attention.</p> +<p>"Galen Albret," announced the old woodsman, "here is the +Ojibway, Jingoss."</p> +<p>The Factor stirred slightly; his bulk, the significance of his +features lost in obscurity.</p> +<p>"Me-en-gen!" he called, sharply.</p> +<p>The tall, straight figure of his Indian familiar glided from the +dusk of the veranda's end.</p> +<p>"To-morrow at smoke time," commanded the Factor, using the +Ojibway tongue, "let this man be whipped before the people, fifty +lashes. Then let him be chained to the Tree for the space of one +week, and let it be written above him in Ojibway and in Cree that +thus Galen Albret punishes those who steal."</p> +<p>Without a word Me-en-gan took the defaulter by the arm and +conducted him away.</p> +<p>Galen Albret had fallen into a profound silence, which no one +ventured to break. Dick and Sam, uncertain as to whether or not +they, too, were dismissed, shifted uneasily.</p> +<p>"How did you find him?" demanded the Factor, abruptly.</p> +<p>"We went with old Haukemah's band down as far as the +Mattawishguia. There we left them and went up stream and over the +divide. Dick here broke his leg and was laid up for near three +months. I looked all that district over while he was getting well. +Then we made winter travel down through the Kabinikágam +country and looked her over. We got track of this Jingoss over near +the hills, but he got wind of us and skipped when we was almost on +top of him. We took his trail. He went straight north, trying to +shake us off, and we got up into the barren country. We'd have lost +him in the snow if it hadn't been for that dog there. He could +trail him through new snow. We run out of grub up there, and +finally I gave out. Dick here pushed on alone and found the Injun +wandering around snow-blind. He run onto some caribou about that +time, too, and killed some. Then he came back and got me:—I +had a little pemmican and boiled my moccasins. We had lots of meat, +so we rested up a couple of weeks, and then came back."</p> +<p>That was all. These men had done a great thing, and thus simply +they told it. And they only told that much of it because it was +their duty; they must report to their chief.</p> +<p>Galen Albret seemed for a moment to consider, as was his +habit.</p> +<p>"You have done well," he pronounced at last. "My confidence in +you was justified. The pay stands as agreed. In addition I place +you in charge of the post at Lost River, and you, Herron, in charge +of the Mattágami Brigade."</p> +<p>The men flushed, deeply pleased, more than rewarded, not by the +money nor the advancement, but by the unqualified satisfaction of +their commander.</p> +<p>They turned away. At this moment Virginia Albret, on some errand +to her father, appeared outlined in slender youth against the +doorway. On the instant she recognized them.</p> +<p>"Why, Sam and Dick," she said, "I am glad to see you. When did +you get back?"</p> +<p>"Just back, Miss Virginia," replied Sam.</p> +<p>"That's good. I hope you've had a successful trip."</p> +<p>"Yes," answered Sam. The woodsman stood there a little +awkwardly, wishing to be polite, not sure as to whether they should +now go without further dismissal.</p> +<p>"See, Miss Virginia," hesitated Sam, to fill in the pause, "I +have your handkerchief yet."</p> +<p>"I'm glad you kept it, Sam," replied the young girl; "and have +you yours, Dick?"</p> +<p>And suddenly to Dick the contrast between this reality and that +other came home with the vividness of a picture. He saw again the +snow-swept plain, the wavering shapes of illusion, the mock suns +dancing in unholy revel. The colour of the North burned before his +eyes; a madness of the North unsealed his lips.</p> +<p>"I used it to cover a dead girl's face," he replied, +bluntly.</p> +<p>The story had been as gray as a report of statistics,—so +many places visited, so much time consumed. The men smoking cigars, +lounging on cushioned seats in the tepid summer air, had listened +to it unimpressed, as one listens to the reading of minutes of a +gathering long past. This simple sentenced breathed into it life. +The magnitude of the undertaking sprang up across the horizon of +their comprehension. They saw between the mile-post markings of Sam +Bolton's dry statements of fact, glimpses of vague, mysterious, and +terrible deeds, indistinct, wonderful. The two before them loomed +big in the symbolism of the wide world of men's endurance and +determination and courage.</p> +<p>The darkness swallowed them before the group on the veranda had +caught its breath. In a moment the voices about the cannon raised +in greeting. A swift play of question and answer shot back and +forth. "Out all the year?" "Where? Kabinikágam? Oh, yes, +east of Brunswick Lake." "Good trip?" "That's right." "Glad of it." +Then the clamour rose, many beseeching, one refusing. The year was +done. These men had done a mighty deed, and yet a few careless +answers were all they had to tell of it. The group, satisfied, were +begging another song. And so, in a moment, just as a year before, +Dick's rich, husky baritone raised in the words of the old melody. +The circle was closed.</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>There was an old darky, +and his name was Uncle Ned,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>And he lived long ago, long +ago—</i>"</span></p> +<p>The night hushed to silence. Even the wolves were still, and the +<i>giddés</i> down at the Indian camp ceased their endless +quarrelling. Dick's voice had all the world to itself. The men on +the Factory veranda smoked, the disks of their cigars dulling and +glowing. Galen Albret, inscrutable, grim, brooded his unguessable +thoughts. Virginia, in the doorway, rested her head pensively +against one arm outstretched against the lintel.</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">"<i>For there's no more work +for poor old Ned,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;"><i>He's gone where the good darkies +go</i>."</span></p> +<p>The song finished. There succeeded the great compliment of +quiet.</p> +<p>To Virginia it was given to speak the concluding word of this +episode. She sighed, stretching out her arms.</p> +<p>"'The greatness of my people,'" she quoted softly.</p> +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Silent Places, by Steward Edward White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SILENT PLACES *** + +***** This file should be named 14960-h.htm or 14960-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/9/6/14960/ + +Produced by Rick Niles, Charlie Kirschner and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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