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diff --git a/11402-h/11402-h.htm b/11402-h/11402-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..306ba1d --- /dev/null +++ b/11402-h/11402-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8755 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org"> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=UTF-8"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Sky Line of Spruce, by +Edison Marshall.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + .ltr { margin-left: 8%; + margin-right: 8%} + .content { text-align: center} + .figure { margin: 1em; + border: thin silver solid; + text-align: center; + padding: 1em; + float: left; + margin-left: 0; } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 100%; font-size: 8pt; justify: right;} /* page numbers */ + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11402 ***</div> + +<p style="text-align: center;"><img style= +"width: 400px; height: 605px;" alt="Cover" src= +"images/ss001.jpg"></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>THE SKY LINE<br> +OF SPRUCE</h1> +<br> +<h2>By EDISON MARSHALL</h2> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>AUTHOR OF</h3> +<h3>"The Voice of the Pack," "The Strength of the Pines,"<br> +"The Snowshoe Trail," "Shepherds of the Wild," etc.</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>1922</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<br> +<div class="content"><br> +<a href="#PART_ONE">PART ONE<br> +THE WAKENING</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#PART_TWO">PART TWO<br> +THE WOLF-MAN</a><br> +<br> +<a href="#PART_THREE">PART THREE<br> +THE TAMING</a></div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<a name="PART_ONE"></a> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<h2>PART ONE</h2> +<h3>THE WAKENING</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="I"></a> +<h2>I</h2> +<p>The convict gang had a pleasant place to work to-day. Their road +building had taken them some miles from the scattered outskirts of +Walla Walla, among fields green with growing barley. The air was +fresh and sweet; the Western meadow larks, newly come, seemed in +imminent danger of splitting their own throats through the +exuberance of their song. Even the steel rails of the Northern +Pacific, running parallel to the stretch of new road, gleamed +pleasantly in the spring sun.</p> +<p>The convicts themselves were in a genial mood, easily moved to +wide grins; and with a single exception they looked much like any +other road gang at work anywhere in the land. An expert might have +recognized purely criminal types among them: to a layman they +suggested merely the lower grades of unskilled labor. Some of the +faces were distinctly brutal; there was the sullen visage of a +powerful negro who, with different environment, might have been a +Congo prince; but the face of "Plug" Spanos, a notorious gunman who +was by far the worst character in the gang, might have been that of +an artless plow-boy in a distant land under a warm sun. There +remained, however, the "exception." Curiously enough, whenever the +warden's thought dwelt upon the inmates of his prison, classifying +them into various groups, there was always one wind-tanned, vivid +face, one brawny, towering form that seemed to demand individual +consideration. The man who was listed on the records as Ben Kinney +was distinctly an individual. He some way failed to classify among +the groups of his fellows. Because he had been sent out to-day with +the road gang the two armed guards had an interesting subject of +conversation.</p> +<p>In the first place he habitually did two men's work. He did not +do it with any idea of trying to ingratiate himself with his +keepers: no inmate of the institution at Walla Walla made any such +mistake as that. He did it purely because he could not tone down +his mighty strength and energy to stay even with his fellows. +To-day Sprigley, the guard in first command of the gang, had placed +him opposite Judy, the burly negro, but the latter was being driven +straight toward absolute exhaustion. Yet Kinney at least knew how +to subdue and direct the pouring fountain of his vitality and +energy, for the robust blows of his pick fell with the regularity +of a tireless machine. It was as if a wild stallion, off the +plains, had been trained to draw the plow. His great muscles moved +with marvelous precision; but for all the monotony and rhythm of +his motions he conveyed no image of stolidity and dullness.</p> +<p>He was a great, dark man, his skin darkly brown from exposure; +his straight hair showed almost coal black in spite of the fact +that it had but recently been clipped close; his eyebrows were +similarly black; and black hairs spread down his hands almost to +the finger nails and cropped up from his chest at his open throat. +It was a mighty, deep, full chest, the chest of a runner and a +fighter, sustained by a strong, flat abdomen and by powerful, +sturdy legs. Yet physical might and development were not all of Ben +Kinney. The image conveyed was never one of sheer brutality. For +all their black hair, the large, brawny hands were well-shaped and +sensitive; he had a healthy, good-humored mouth that could +evidently, on occasion, be the seat of a most pleasant, boyish +smile. He had a straight, good nose, rather high cheek bones, and a +broad, brown forehead, straight rather than sloping swiftly like +that of the negro opposite. But none of his features, nor yet his +brawny form, caught and held the attention as did his vivid, +dark-gray eyes. They were deeply dark, even against his deeply +tanned face, yet now and then one caught distinct surface lights, +denoting the presence of unmeasured animal spirits, and perhaps, +too, the surprising health and vitality of the engine of his life. +They were keen eyes, alert, fiery with a zealot's fire: evidently +the eyes of a steadfast, headstrong, purposeful man. Some +complexity of lines about them, hard to trace, indicated a +recklessness, too; a willingness to risk all that he had for his +convictions.</p> +<p>"That's the queerest case we ever had here at Walla Walla," +Sprigley told his fellow guard, as they watched the man's pick +swing in the air. "Sometimes I wonder whether he ought to be here +or not. Look at that face—he hasn't any more of a criminal +face than I have."</p> +<p>The other guard, Howard, scanned his companion's face with mock +care. "That ain't sayin' so much for him," he observed. But at once +he began to evince real interest. "I maintain you can't tell +anything from their faces," he answered seriously. "There's nothin' +in it. The man's a crook, isn't he? Wasn't he caught +red-handed?"</p> +<p>"Let me tell you about it. I was interested in the case and +found out all I could concerning it. He apparently showed up in +Seattle some time during the summer of 1919, a crook of the crooks, +as you say. No one knows where he came from—and that's queer +in itself. You know very well that his face and form are going to +be remembered and noticed, yet he wasn't in any rogue's gallery, in +any city. Desperate crook though he was, no one had ever heard of +him before he showed up in Seattle.</p> +<p>"The crooks down there called him 'Wild' Kinney, and were pretty +well scared of him. Swanson, one of the lieutenants of the Seattle +force, whom I know well as I know you, told me that he was a power, +sort of a king in the underworld from the very first, largely +because he was afraid of nothing, absolutely desperate, and willing +to take any chance. He wasn't a hop-head, yet they all looked at +him as sort of queer; though ready to follow him to the last ditch, +yet some way they thought him off his head. And Swanson believes +that his career of crime started <i>after</i> he reached Seattle, +not before—that he hadn't grown up to crime like most of the +men in his gang. He didn't know anything about the +'profession'—as far as skill went he was a rank amateur, but +he made it up with daring and cunning. Once or twice he got in a +fight down there, and they all agree he fought like a mad man, the +most terrible fighter in the whole district, and it took about a +half dozen to stop him."</p> +<p>"You don't have to tell me that. Anybody who can swing a pick +like that—"</p> +<p>"Now let me tell you how they happened to catch him. Maybe you +heard—he and Dago Frank were in the act of breaking into the +Western-Danish Bank. Part of this I'm giving you now came straight +from Frank himself. He says that they were in the alley, in the act +of jimmying a window, and all at once Kinney straightened up as if +something had hit him and let the jimmy fall with a thump to the +pavement. Frank said he thought that the man had 'gone off his +nut,' but it's my private opinion that he had been somewhat +deranged all the time he was in Seattle, and he just came to, more +or less, that minute. The man hardly seemed to know what he was +doing. 'Have you lost your guts, Kinney?' Frank asked him; and +Kinney stood there, staring like he didn't know he was being spoken +to. He put his hands to his head, then, like a man with a headache. +And the next instant a cop came running from the mouth of the +alley.</p> +<p>"Kinney was heeled, but he didn't even pull his gun. He still +stood with his hands to his head. All his pards in the underworld +always said he'd die before he'd give up, but he let the cop take +him like he was a baby. Frank got away, but they got him, you +remember, three weeks later. After some kind of a trial Kinney was +sent down here."</p> +<p>Sprigley paused and shifted his gun from his right to his left +shoulder. "You'll say that's all common enough," he went on. "Now +let me tell you another queer thing. You know, the chief has +started a system here to keep track of all the prisoners, with the +idea of making them good citizens when they get out. He has them +all fill out a card. Well, when this man Kinney turned in his card, +he had written 'Ben' on it, but the rest was absolutely blank.</p> +<p>"Mr. Mitchell thought at first that the man couldn't write. It +turned out, though, that he can write—an intelligent hand, +and spell good too. Then Mitchell decided he was just sulking. But +his second guess was no better than his first. I haven't got +Mitchell persuaded yet, and maybe never will have him persuaded, +but I'm confident I know the answer. The reason he didn't fill out +that card was because he couldn't remember.</p> +<p>"He couldn't remember where or when he was born, or who were his +folks, or where he had come from, or how he had spent his life. He +knew that 'Ben,' his first name, sounded right to him, but 'Kinney' +didn't—the reason likely being that Kinney was an alias +adopted during his life as a criminal. I suppose you've noticed +that queer, bewildered look he has when any one calls him Kinney. +What his real name is he doesn't know. He can't even remember that. +And the explanation is—complete loss of memory.</p> +<p>"You mark my words, Howard—that man hasn't been a criminal +always. Something got wrong with his head, and he turned +crook—you might say that the criminal side that all of us has +simply took possession of him. That night in the alley he came to +himself—only his mind was left a blank not only in regard to +his life as a criminal, but all that had gone before."</p> +<p>"Then why don't you do something about it—besides talk? +Mitchell says you're gettin' so you talk of nothin' else."</p> +<p>"It's not for me to do anything about it. The man was a +criminal. The State can't go any further than that. I suppose if +every man was set free who wasn't, in the last analysis, +responsible for his crimes, we wouldn't have anybody left in the +penitentiary. He's in for five years—considering what he'll +pick up here, it might as well be for life. Amnesia—that's +what the doctors call it—amnesia following some sort of a +mental trouble. In the end you'll see that I'm right."</p> +<p>Sprigley was right. To Ben Kinney life was like a single pale +light in a long, dark street. Complete loss of memory prevented him +from looking backward. Complete loss of hope kept him from looking +ahead.</p> +<p>It had been this way for months now—ever since the night +the policeman had found him, the "jimmy" dropped from his hands, in +the alley. Heaven knows what he had done, what madness had been +upon him, before that time. But as Sprigley had said, that night +had marked a change. It was true that so far as facts went he was +no better off: when he had come to himself he had found his mind a +blank regarding not only his career of crime, but all the years +that had gone before. Even his own name eluded him. That of Kinney +had an alien sound in his ears.</p> +<p>The past had simply ceased to exist for him; and because it is +some way the key to the future, the latter seemed likewise +blank,—a toneless gray that did not in the least waken his +interest. Indeed the only light that flung into the unfathomable +darkness of his forgetfulness was that which played in his dreams +at night. Sometimes these were inordinately vivid, quite in +contrast to the routine of prison life.</p> +<p>He felt if he could only recall these dreams clearly they would +interpret for him the mystery of his own life. He wakened, again +and again, with the consciousness of having dreamed the most +stirring, amazing dreams, but what they were he couldn't tell. He +could only remember fragments, such as a picture of rushing waters +recurring again and again—and sometimes an amazing horizon, a +dark line curiously notched against a pale green background.</p> +<p>They were not all bad dreams: in reality many of them stirred +him and moved him happily, and he would waken to find the mighty +tides of his blood surging fiercely through the avenues of veins. +Evidently they recalled some happiness that was forgotten. And +there was one phase, at least, of this work in the road gangs that +brought him moving, intense delight. It was merely the sight of the +bird life, abounding in the fields and meadows about the towns.</p> +<p>There had been quite a northern migration lately, these late +spring days. The lesser songsters were already mating and nesting, +and he found secret pleasure in their cheery calls and bustling +activity. But they didn't begin to move him as did the waterfowl, +passing in long V-shaped flocks. That strange, wild wanderer's +greeting that the gray geese called down to their lesser brethren +in the meadows had a really extraordinary effect upon him. It +always caught him up and held him, stirring some deep, strange part +of him that he hardly knew existed. Sometimes the weird, wailing +sound brought him quite to the edge of a profound discovery, but +always the flocks sped on and out of hearing before he could quite +grasp it. When the moon looked down, through the barred window of +his cell, he sometimes felt the same way. A great, white mysterious +moon that he had known long ago. It was queer that there should be +a relationship between the gray geese and the cold, white satellite +that rode in the sky. Ben Kinney never tried to puzzle out what it +was; but he always knew it with a knowledge not to be denied.</p> +<p>The last of the waterfowl had passed by now, but the northern +migration was not yet done. The sun still moved north; warm, +north-blowing winds blew the last of the lowering, wintry clouds +back to the Arctic Seas whence they had come. And because the road +work the convicts were doing brought them, this afternoon, in sight +of the railroad right-of-way, Ben now and then caught sight of +other wayfarers moving slowly, but no less steadily, toward the +north. The open road beckoned northward, these full, balmy, +late-April days, and various tattered men, mostly vagabonds and +tramps, passed the gang from time to time on this same, northern +quest.</p> +<p>Ben thought about them as birds of passage, and the thought +amused him. And at the sight of a small, stooped figure advancing +toward him up the railroad right-of-way he paused, leaning on his +pick.</p> +<p>Because Ben had paused, for the first time in an hour, his two +guards looked up to see what had attracted his attention. They saw +what seemed to them a white-haired old wanderer of sixty years or +more; but at first they were wholly at a loss to explain Ben's +fascinated look of growing interest.</p> +<p>It was true that the old man scarcely represented the usual +worthless, criminal type that took to vagabondage. As he paused to +scrutinize the convict gang neither insolence nor fear, one of +which was certainly to be expected, became manifest in his face. +They had anticipated certain words in greeting, a certain look out +of bleary, shifty eyes, but neither materialized. True, the old man +was following the cinder trail northward, but plainly he did not +belong to the brotherhood of tramps. They saw that he was +white-haired and withered, but upright; and that undying youth +dwelt in his twinkling blue eyes and the complexity of little, +good-natured lines about his mouth. Poverty, age, the hardships of +the cinder trail had not conquered him in the least. He was small +physically, but his skinny arms and legs looked as if they were +made of high-tension wire. His face was shrewd, but also kindly, +and the gray stubble on his cheeks and chin did not in the least +hide a smile that was surprisingly boyish and winning. And when he +spoke his cracked good-natured voice was perfectly in character, +evidently that of a man possessing full self-respect and +confidence, yet brimming over with easy kindliness and humor.</p> +<p>Both guards would have felt instantly, instinctively friendly +toward him if they had been free to feel at all. Instead they were +held and amazed by the apparent fact that at the first scrutiny of +the man's outline, his carriage and his droll, wrinkled face, the +prisoner Kinney was moved and stirred as if confronted by the risen +dead.</p> +<p>The old man himself halted, returning Kinney's stare. The moment +had, still half concealed, an unmistakable quality of drama. In the +contagion of suppressed excitement, the other prisoners paused, +their tools held stiffly in their hands. Kinney's mind seemed to be +reaching, groping for some astonishing truth that eluded him.</p> +<p>The old man ran, in great strides, toward him. "My God, aren't +you Ben Darby?" he demanded.</p> +<p>The convict answered him as from a great distance, his voice +cool and calm with an infinite certainty. "Of course," he said. "Of +course I'm Darby."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="II"></a> +<h2>II</h2> +<p>For the moment that chance meeting thrilled all the spectators +with the sense of monumental drama. The convicts stared; Howard, +the second guard, forgot his vigilance and stared with open mouth. +He started absurdly, rather guiltily, when the old man whirled +toward him.</p> +<p>"What are you doing with Ben Darby in a convict gang?" the old +wanderer demanded.</p> +<p>"What am I doin'?" Howard's astonishment gave way to righteous +indignation. "I'm guardin' convicts, that's what I'm a-doin'." He +composed himself then and shifted his gun from his left to his +right shoulder. "He's here in this gang because he's a convict. Ask +my friend, here, if you want to know the details. And who might you +be?"</p> +<p>There was no immediate answer to that question. The old man had +turned his eyes again to the tall, trembling figure of Ben, trying +to find further proof of his identity. To Ezra Melville there could +no longer be any shadow of doubt as to the truth: even that he had +found the young man working in a gang of convicts could not impugn +the fact that the dark-gray vivid eyes, set in the vivid face under +dark, beetling brows, were unquestionably those of the boy he had +seen grow to manhood's years, Ben Darby.</p> +<p>It was true that he had changed. His face was more deeply lined, +his eyes more bright and nervous; there was a long, dark scar just +under the short hair at his temple that Melville had never seen +before. And the finality of despair seemed to settle over the droll +features as he walked nearer and took Darby's hand.</p> +<p>"Ben, Ben!" he said, evidently struggling with deep emotion. +"What are you doing here?"</p> +<p>The younger man gave him his hand, but continued to stare at him +in growing bewilderment. "Five years—for burglary," he +answered simply. "Guilty, too—I don't know anything more. And +I can't remember—who you are."</p> +<p>"You don't know me?" Some of Ben's own bewilderment seemed to +pass to him. "You know Ezra Melville—"</p> +<p>Sprigley, whose beliefs in regard to Ben had been strengthened +by the little episode, stepped quickly to Melville's side. "He's +suffering loss of memory," he explained swiftly. "At least, he's +either lost his memory or he's doing a powerful lot of faking. This +is the first time he ever recalled his own name."</p> +<p>"I'm not faking," Ben told them quietly. "I honestly don't +remember you—I feel that I ought to, but I don't. I honestly +didn't remember my name was Darby until a minute ago—then +just as soon as you spoke it, I knew the truth. Nothing can +surprise me, any more. I suppose you're kin of mine—?"</p> +<p>Melville gazed at him in incredulous astonishment, then turned +to Sprigley. "May I talk to you about this case?" he asked quietly. +"If not to you, who can I talk to? There are a few points that +might help to clear up—"</p> +<p>Ordering his men to their work, Melville and Sprigley stood +apart, and for nearly an hour engaged in the most earnest +conversation. The afternoon was shadow-flaked and paling when they +had finished, and before Sprigley led his men back within the gray +walls he had arranged for Melville to come to the prison after the +dinner hour and confer with Mitchell, the warden.</p> +<p>Many and important were the developments arising from this +latter conference. One of the least of them was that Melville's +northward journey was postponed for some days, and that within a +week this same white-haired, lean old man, dressed in the garb of +the cinder trail, was pleading his case to no less a personage than +the governor of the State of Washington in whom authority for +dealing with Ben's case was absolutely vested. It came about, from +the same cause, that a noted alienist, Forest, of Seattle, visited +Ben Darby in his cell; and finally that the prisoner himself, under +the strict guard of Sprigley, was taken to the capital at +Olympia.</p> +<p>The brief inquisition that followed, changing the entire current +of Ben Darby's life, occurred in the private office of McNamara, +the Governor. McNamara himself stood up to greet them when they +entered, the guard and the convict. Ezra Melville and Forest, the +alienist from Seattle, were already in session. The latter +conducted the examination.</p> +<p>He tried his subject first on some of the most simple tests for +sanity. It became evident at once, however, that except for his +amnesia Ben's mind was perfectly sound: he passed all general +intelligence tests with a high score, he conversed easily, he +talked frankly of his symptoms. He had perfect understanding of the +general sweep of events in the past twenty years: his amnesia +seemed confined to his own activities and the activities of those +intimately connected with him. Where he had been, what he had done, +all the events of his life up to the night of his arrest remained, +for all his effort to remember them, absolutely in darkness.</p> +<p>"You don't remember this man?" Forest asked him quietly, +indicating Ezra Melville.</p> +<p>Again Ben's eyes studied the droll, gray face. "With the vaguest +kind of memory. I know I've seen him before—often. I can't +tell anything else."</p> +<p>"He's a good friend of your family. He knew your folks. I should +say he was a <i>very</i> good friend, to take the trouble and time +he has, in your behalf."</p> +<p>Ben nodded. He did not have to be told that fact. The +explanation, however, was beyond him.</p> +<p>Forest leaned forward. "You remember the Saskatchewan +River?"</p> +<p>Ben straightened, but the dim images in his mind were not clear +enough for him to answer in the affirmative. "I'm afraid not."</p> +<p>Melville leaned forward in his chair. "Ask him if he remembers +winning the canoe race at Lodge Pole—or the time he shot the +Athabaska Rapids."</p> +<p>Ben turned brightly to him, but slowly shook his head. "I can't +remember ever hearing of them before."</p> +<p>"I think you would, in time," Forest remarked. "They must have +been interesting experiences. Now what do these mean to +you?—Thunder Lake—Abner Darby—Edith +Darby—MacLean's College----"</p> +<p>Ben relaxed, focusing his attention on the names. For the +instant the scene about him, the anxious, interested faces, faded +from his consciousness. Thunder Lake! Somewhere, some time, Thunder +Lake had had the most intimate associations with his life. The name +stirred him and moved him; dim voices whispered in his ears about +it, but he couldn't quite catch what they said. He groped and +reached in vain.</p> +<p>There was no doubt but that an under-consciousness had full +knowledge of the name and all that it meant. But it simply could +not reach that knowledge up into his conscious mind.</p> +<p>Abner Darby! It was curious what a flood of tenderness swept +through him as, whispering, he repeated the name. Some one old and +white-haired had been named Abner Darby: some one whom he had once +worshipped with the fervor of boyhood, but who had leaned on his +own, strong shoulders in latter years. Since his own name was +Darby, Abner Darby was, in all probability, his father; but his +reasoning intelligence, rather than his memory, told him so.</p> +<p>The name of Edith Darby conjured up in his mind a childhood +playmate,—a girl with towzled yellow curls and chubby, +confiding little hands.... But these dim memory-pictures went no +further: there were no later visions of Edith as a young woman, +blossoming with virgin beauty. They stopped short, and he had a +deep, compelling sense of grief. The child, unquestionably a +sister, had likely died in early years. The third name of the +three, MacLean's College, called up no memories whatever.</p> +<p>"I can hardly say that I remember much about them," he responded +at last. "I think they'll come plainer, though, the more I think +about them. I just get the barest, vague ideas."</p> +<p>"They'll strengthen in time, I'm sure," Forest told him. "Put +them out of your mind, for now. Let it be blank." The alienist +again leaned toward him, his eyes searching. There ensued an +instant's pause, possessing a certain quality of suspense. Then +Forest spoke quickly, sharply. "<i>Wolf</i> Darby!"</p> +<p>In response a curious tremor passed over Ben's frame, giving in +some degree the effect of a violent start. "<i>Wolf</i> Darby," he +repeated hesitantly. "Why do you call me that?"</p> +<p>"The very fact that you know the name refers to you, not some +one else, shows that that blunted memory of yours has begun to +function in some degree. Now think. What do you know about 'Wolf' +Darby?"</p> +<p>Ben tried in vain to find an answer. A whole world of meaning +lingered just beyond the reach of his groping mind; but always it +eluded him. It was true, however, that the name gave him a certain +sense of pleasure and pride, as if it had been used in compliment +to some of his own traits. Far away and long ago, men had called +<i>him</i> "Wolf" Darby: he felt that perhaps the name had carried +far, through many sparsely settled districts. But what had been the +occasion for it he did not know.</p> +<p>He described these dim memory pictures; and Forest's air of +satisfaction seemed to imply that his own theories in regard to +Ben's case were receiving justification. He appeared quite a little +flushed, deeply intent, when he turned to the next feature of the +examination. He suddenly spoke quietly to old Ezra Melville; and +the latter put a small, cardboard box into his hands.</p> +<p>"I want you to see what I have here," Forest told Ben. "They +were your own possessions once—you sent them yourself to +Abner Darby, your late father—and I want you to see if you +remember them."</p> +<p>Ben's eyes fastened on the box; and the others saw a queer +drawing of the lines of his face, a curious tightening and clasping +of his fingers. There was little doubt but that his +subconsciousness had full cognizance of the contents of that box. +He was trembling slightly, too—in excitement and +expectation—and Ezra Melville, suddenly standing erect, was +trembling too. The moment was charged with the uttermost +suspense.</p> +<p>Evidently this was the climax in the examination. Even McNamara, +the Governor, was breathless with interest in his chair; Forest had +the rapt look of a scientist in some engrossing experiment. He +opened the box, taking therefrom a roll of white cotton. This he +slowly unrolled, revealing two small, ribboned ornaments of gold or +bronze.</p> +<p>Ben's starting eyes fastened on them. No doubt he recognized +them. A look of veritable anguish swept his brown face, and all at +once small drops of moisture appeared on his brow and through the +short hairs at his temples. The dark scar at his temple was +suddenly brightly red from the pounding blood beneath.</p> +<p>"The Victoria Cross, of course," he said slowly, brokenly. "I +won it, didn't I—the day—that day at Ypres—the +day my men were trapped—"</p> +<p>His words faltered then. The wheels of <i>his</i> memory, +starting into motion, were stilled once more. Again the great +darkness dropped over him; there were only the medals left in their +roll of cotton, and the broken fragments of a story—of some +wild, stirring event of the war just gone—remaining in his +mind. Yet to Forest the experiment was an unqualified success.</p> +<p>"There's no doubt of it!" he exclaimed. He turned to McNamara, +the Governor. "His brain is just as sound as yours or mine. With +the right environment, the right treatment, he'd be on the straight +road to recovery. In a general way of speaking he has recovered +now, largely, from the purely temporary trouble that he had +before."</p> +<p>McNamara focused an intent gaze first on Ben, then on the +alienist. "It is, then—as you guessed."</p> +<p>"Absolutely. The night of his arrest marked the end of his +trouble; you might say that his brain simply snapped back into +health and began to function normally again, after a period of +temporary mania from shell-shock. It is true that his memory was +left blank, but there doesn't seem to be any organic reason for it +to be blank—other than lack of incentive to remember. Catch +me up, if you don't follow me. In other words, he has been slowly +convalescing since that night: under the proper stimuli I have no +doubt that everything would come back to him."</p> +<p>"And our friend here—Melville—offers to supply those +stimuli."</p> +<p>"Exactly. And it's up to you to say whether he gets a +chance."</p> +<p>Thoughtfully the executive drummed his desk with his pencil. +Presently a smile, markedly boyish and pleasant, broke over his +face. More than once, in the line of duty imposed by his high +office, he had been obliged to make decisions contrary to every +dictate of mercy. He was all the more pleased at this opportunity +to do, with a clear conscience, the thing that his kindness +prompted. He turned slowly in his chair.</p> +<p>"Darby, I suppose you followed what the doctor said?" he asked +easily.</p> +<p>"Fairly well, I think."</p> +<p>"I'll review it, if I may. It seems, Ben, that you have been the +victim of a strange set of unfortunate circumstances. Due to the +efforts of an old family friend—a most devoted and earnest +friend if I may say so—we've looked up your record, and now +we know more about you than you know about yourself. You served in +France with Canadian troops and there, you will be proud to know, +you won among other honors the highest honor that the Government of +England can award a hero. There you were shell-shocked, in the last +months of the war.</p> +<p>"You did not return to your home. Shell-shock, Forest tells me, +is a curious thing, resulting in many forms of mania. Yours led you +into crime. For some months you lived as a desperate criminal in +Seattle. You came to yourself in the act of breaking into a bank, +only to find that your memory of not only your days of crime but +all that had gone before was left a blank. That night, as you know, +marked your arrest.</p> +<p>"Forest has just explained that you are organically +sound—that the recovery of your memory is just a matter of +time and the proper stimuli. Now, Ben, it isn't the purpose of this +State to punish men when they are not responsible for their deeds. +Melville tells me that your record, in your own home, was the best; +your war record alone, I believe, would entitle you to the limit of +mercy from the State. I don't see how we can hold you responsible +for deeds done while you were mentally disabled from +shell-shock.</p> +<p>"All you need for complete recovery, to call everything back in +your mind, is the proper stimuli. At least that is the opinion of +Doctor Forest. What those proper stimuli are of course no one knows +for sure—but Doctor Forest has a theory; and I think he will +tell you that he will share the credit for it with the same man who +has been your friend all the way through. They think they know what +is best for you. The final decision has been put up to me as to +whether or not they shall be permitted to give it a trial.</p> +<p>"This good friend of yours has offered to try to put it through. +He has a plan outlined that he'll tell you of later, that will not +only be the best possible influence toward recalling your memory, +but will also give you a clean, new start in life. A chance for +every success.</p> +<p>"So you needn't return to Walla Walla, Darby. I'm going to +parole you—under the charge of your benefactor. Melville, +from now on it's up to you."</p> +<p>The little, withered gray man looked very solemn as he rose. The +others were stricken instantly solemn too, surprised that the droll +smile they were so used to seeing had died on the homely, kindly +face. Even his twinkling eyes were sobered too.</p> +<p>Vaguely amused, yet without scorn, McNamara and Forest got up to +shake his hand. "I'll look after him," Melville assured them. +"Never fear for that."</p> +<p>Slight as he was, wasted by the years, his was a figure of +unmistakable dignity as he thanked them, gravely and earnestly, for +their kindness in Ben's behalf. Soon after he and his young charge +went out together.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="III"></a> +<h2>III</h2> +<p>There was a great house-cleaning in the dome of the heavens one +memorable night that flashed like a jewel from the murky desolation +of a rainy spring. The little winds came in troops, some from the +sea, some with loads of balsam from the great forests of the +Olympic Peninsula, and some, quite tired out, from the stretching +sage plains to the east, and they swept the sky of clouds as a +housekeeper sweeps the ceiling of cobwebs. Not a wisp, not one +trailing streamer remained.</p> +<p>The Seattle citizenry, for the first time in some weeks, +recalled the existence of the stars. These emerged in legions and +armies, all the way from the finest diamond dust to great, white +spheres that seemed near enough to reach up and touch. Little +forgotten stars that had hidden away since Heaven knows when in the +deepest recesses of the skies came out to join in the celebration. +Aged men, half blind, beheld so many that they thought their sight +was returning to them, and youths saw whole constellations that +they had never beheld before. They continued their high revels +until a magnificent moon rose in the east, too big and too bright +to compete with.</p> +<p>It was not just a crescent moon, about to fade away, or even a +rain moon—one of those standing straight up in the sky so +that water can run out as out of a dipper. It was almost at its +full, large and nearly round, and it made the whole city, which is +rather like other cities in the daylight, seem a place of +enchantment. It was so bright that the electric signs along Second +Avenue were not even counter-attractions.</p> +<p>No living creature who saw it remained wholly unmoved by it. +Wary young men, crafty and slick as foxes, found themselves +proposing to their sweethearts before they could catch themselves; +and maidens who had looked forward to some years yet of independent +gaiety found themselves accepting. Old tom-cats went wooing; old +spinsters got out old letters; old husbands thought to return and +kiss their wives before venturing down to old, moth-eaten clubs. +Old dogs, too well-bred to howl, were lost and absent-minded with +dreams that were older than all the rest of these things put +together.</p> +<p>But to no one in the city was the influence of the moon more +potent than to Ben Darby, once known as "Wolf" Darby through +certain far-spreading districts, and now newly come from the State +capital, walking Seattle's streets with his ward and benefactor, +Ezra Melville. No matter how faltering was his memory in other +regards, the moon, at least, was an old acquaintance. He had known +it in the nights when its light had probed into his barred cell; +but his intimate acquaintance with it had begun long, long before +that. Not even the names that the alienist, Forest, had +spoken—the names of places and people close to his own +heart—stirred his memory like the sight of the mysterious +sphere rolling through the empty places of the sky. It recalled, +clearer than any other one thing, the time and place of his early +years.</p> +<p>He could not put into words just how it affected him. From first +to last, even through his days of crime, it had been the one thing +constant—the unchanging symbol—that in any manner +connected his present with his shadowed past. It had served to +recall in him, more than any other one thing, the fact that there +was a past to look for—the assurance that somewhere, far +away, he had been something more than a reckless criminal in city +slums. The love he had for it was an old love, proving to him +conclusively that his past life had been intimately associated, +some way, with moonlight falling in open places. Yet the mood that +was wakened in him went even farther. It was as if the sight of the +argent satellite stirred and moved deep-buried instincts innate in +him, in no way connected with any experience of his immediate life. +Rather it was as if his love for it were a racial love, reaching +back beyond his own life: something inborn in him. It was as if he +were recalling it, not alone from his own past, but from a racial +existence a thousand-thousand years before his own birth. His +memory was strangely stifled, but, oh, he remembered the moon! +Forest had spoken of stimuli! The mere sight of the blue-white +beams was the best possible stimulus to call him to himself.</p> +<p>Ezra Melville and he walked under it, talking little at first, +and mostly the old, blue twinkling eyes watched his face. Seemingly +with no other purpose than to escape the bright glare of the street +lights they walked northward along the docks, below Queen Anne +Hill, passed old Rope Walk, through the suburb of Ballard, finally +emerging on the Great Northern Railroad tracks heading toward +Vancouver and the Canadian border. For all that Ben's long legs had +set a fast pace Melville kept cheerfully beside him throughout the +long walk, seemingly without trace of fatigue.</p> +<p>They paused at last at a crossing, and Ben faced the open +fields. Evidently, before crime had claimed him, he had been deeply +sensitive to nature's beauty. Ezra saw him straighten, his dark, +vivid face rise; his quiet talk died on his lips. Evidently the +peaceful scene before him went home to him very straight. He was +very near thralldom from some quality of beauty that dwelt here, +some strange, deep appeal that the moonlit realm made to his +heart.</p> +<p>For the moment Ben had forgotten the old, tried companion at his +side. Vague memories stirred him, trying to convey him an urgent +message. He could all but hear: the sight of the meadows, +ensilvered under the moon, were making many things plain to him +which before were shadowed and vague. The steel rails gleamed like +platinum, the tree tops seemed to have white, molten metal poured +on them. It was hard to take his eyes off those moonlit trees. They +got to him, deep inside; thrilling to him, stirring. Perhaps in his +Lost Land the moon shone on the trees this same way.</p> +<p>There were no prison walls around him to-night. The high +buildings behind him, pressing one upon another, had gone to +sustain the feeling of imprisonment, but it had quite left him now. +There were no cold, watchful lights,—only the moon and the +stars and an occasional mellow gleam from the window of a home. +There was scarcely any sound at all; not even a stir—as of +prisoners tossing and uneasy in their cells. His whole body felt +rested.</p> +<p>The air was marvelously sweet. Clover was likely in blossom in +nearby fields. He breathed deep, an unknown delight stealing over +him. He stole on farther, into the mystery of the +night—ravished, tingling and almost breathless from an inner +and inexplicable excitement. Melville walked quietly beside +him.</p> +<p>Forest had given over the case: it was Melville's time for +experiments to-night. All the way out he had watched his patient, +sounding him, studying his reactions and all that he had beheld had +gone to strengthen his own convictions. And now, after this moment +in the meadows, the old man was ready to go on with his plan.</p> +<p>"Let's set down here," he invited casually. Ben started, +emerging from his revery. The old man's cheery smile had returned, +in its full charm, to his droll face. "You'll want to know what +it's all about—and what I have in mind. And I sure think +you've done mighty well to hold onto your patience this long."</p> +<p>He sat himself on the rail, and Ben quietly took a seat beside +him. "There are plenty of things I'd like to know," he +admitted.</p> +<p>"And plenty of things I ain't goin' to tell you, +neither—for the reason that Forest advised against it," Ezra +went on. "I don't understand it—but he says you've got a lot +better chance to get your memory workin' clear again if things are +recalled to you by the aid of 'stimuli' instead of having any one +tell you. I've agreed to supply the 'stimuli.'</p> +<p>"I don't see any harm in tellin' you that the guesses you've +already made are right. Your name is Ben Darby—and you used +to be known as 'Wolf' Darby—for reasons that sooner or later +you may know. Abner Darby was your father. Edith Darby was your +sister that ain't no more. You went awhile to MacLean's College, in +Ontario.</p> +<p>"Now, Ben, I'm going to put a proposition up to you. I'm hoping +you'll see fit to accept it. And I might as well say right here, +that while it's the best plan possible to bring you back your +memory, and that while it offers just the kind of 'stimuli' you're +supposed to need, neither 'stimuli' nor stimulus or stimulum has +got very much to do with it. I argued that point mighty strong +because I knew it would appeal to Forest, and through him, to the +governor. I don't see it makes a whale of a lot of difference +whether you get your memory back or not.</p> +<p>"Maybe you don't foller me. But you know and I know you're all +right now, remembering clear enough everything that happened since +you was arrested, and I don't see what difference it makes whether +or not you remember who your great-aunt was, and the scrapes you +got in as a kid. You can talk and walk and figger, get by in any +comp'ny, and you suit me for a buddy just as you are. However, +Forest seemed to think it was mighty important—and it may +be.</p> +<p>"The reason I'm goin' to take you where I'm goin' to take you is +for your own good. I'm sort of responsible for you, bein' your +folks are dead. I know you from head to heel, and I think I know +what's good for you, what you can do and what you can't do and +where you succeed and where you fail. And I'll say right here you +wasn't born to be no gangman in a big city like Seattle. You'll +find that isn't your line at all."</p> +<p>"I'm willing to take your word for that, Mr. Melville," Ben +interposed quietly.</p> +<p>"And I might say, now a good time as any, to let up on the +'<i>Mister</i>.' My name is Ezra Melville, and I've been known as +'Ezram' as long as I can remember, to my friends. The Darbys in +particular called me that, and you're a Darby.</p> +<p>"I'll say in the beginning I can't do for you all I'd like to +do, simply because I haven't the means. The first time you saw me I +was walkin' ties, and you'll see me walkin' some more of 'em before +you're done. I know you ain't got any money, and due to the poker +habit I ain't got much either—in spite of the fact I've done +two men's work for something over forty years. On this expedition +to come we'll have to go on the cheaps. No Pullmans, no +hotels—sleeping out the hay when we're caught out at night. +Maybe ridin' the blinds, whenever we can. I'm awful sorry, but it +jest can't be helped. But I will say—when it comes to work I +can do my full share, without kickin'."</p> +<p>Ben stared in amazement. It was almost as if the old man were +pleading a case, rather than giving glorious alms to one to whom +hope had seemed dead. Ben tried to cut in, to ask questions, but +the old man's words swept his own away.</p> +<p>"To begin at the beginning, I've got a brother—leastwise I +had him a few weeks ago—Hiram Melville by name," Ezram went +on. "You'd remember him well enough. He was a prospector up to a +place called Snowy Gulch—a town way up in the Caribou +Mountains, in Canada. Some weeks ago, herdin' cattle in Eastern +Oregon, I got a letter from him, and started north, runnin' into +you on the way up. The letter's right here."</p> +<p>He drew a white envelope from his coat pocket, opening it +slowly. "This is a real proposition, son," he went on in a sobered +voice. "I'm mighty glad that I've got something, at least worth +lookin' into, to let you in on. I only wish it was more."</p> +<p>"Why should you want to let me in on anything?" Ben asked +clearly.</p> +<p>The direct question received only a stare of blank amazement +from Ezram. "Why should I—" he repeated, seemingly surprised +out of his life by the question. "Shucks, and quit interruptin' me. +But I'll say right here I've got my own ideas, if you must know. +Didn't I hear that while you was rampin' around the underworld, you +showed yourself a mighty good fighter? Well, there's likely to be +some fightin' where we're goin', and I want some one to do it +besides myself. If there ain't fightin', at least they'll be +worklots of work. Maybe I'm gettin' a little too old to do much of +it. I want a buddy—some one who will go halfway with me."</p> +<p>"Therefore I suppose you go to the 'pen' to find one," Ben +commented, wholly unconvinced.</p> +<p>"I'm going to make this proposition good," Ezram went on as if +he had not heard, "probably a fourth—maybe even a +third—to you. And I ain't such a fool as I look, neither. I +know the chances of comin' out right on it are twice as good if +somebody young and strong, and who can fight, is in on it with me. +Listen to this."</p> +<p>Opening the letter, he read laboriously:</p> +<div class="ltr"> +<p>Snowy Gulch, B.C.</p> +<p>DEAR BROTHER EZRA:—</p> +<p>I rite this with what I think is my dying hand. It's my will +too. I'm at the hotel at Snowy Gulch—and not much more time. +You know I've been hunting a claim. Well, I found it—rich a +pocket as any body want, worth a quarter million any how and in a +district where the Snowy Gulch folks believe there ain't a grain of +gold.</p> +<p>It's yours. Come up and get it quick before some thieves up hear +jump it. Lookout for Jeffery Neilson and his gang they seen some of +my dust. I'm too sick to go to recorder in Bradleyburg and record +claim. Get copy of this letter to carry, put this in some safe +place. The only condition is you take good care of Fenris, the pet +I raised from a pup. You'll find him and my gun at Steve +Morris's.</p> +<p>I felt myself going and just did get hear. You get supplies +horses at Snowy Gulch go up Poor Man Creek through Spruce Pass over +to Yuga River. Go down Yuga River past first rapids along still +place to first creek you'll know it cause there's an old cabin just +below and my canoe landing. Half mile up, in creek bed, is the +pocket and new cabin. And don't tell no one in Snowy Gulch who you +are and where you going. Go quick brother Ez and put up a stone for +me at Snowy Gulch.</p> +<p>Your brother</p> +<p>HIRAM MELVILLE.</p> +</div> +<br> +<p>There was a long pause after Ezram's voice had died away. Ben's +eyes glowed in the moonlight.</p> +<p>"And you haven't heard—whether your brother is still +alive?"</p> +<p>"I got a wire the hotel man sent me. It reached me weeks before +the letter came, and I guess he must have died soon after he wrote +it. I suppose you see what he means when he says to carry a copy of +this letter, instead of the original."</p> +<p>"Of course—because it constitutes his will, your legal +claim. Just the fact that you are his brother would be claim +enough, I should think, but since the claim isn't recorded, this +simplifies matters for you. You'd better make a copy of it and you +can leave it in some safe place. And of course this claim is what +you offered to let me in on."</p> +<p>"That's it. Not much, but all what I got. What I want to know +is—if it's a go."</p> +<p>"Wait just a minute. You've asked me to go in with you on a +scheme that looks like a clear quarter of a million, even though I +can't give anything except my time and my work. You found me in a +penitentiary, busted and all in—a thief and a gangster. +Before we go any further, tell me what service I've done you, what +obligation you're under to me, that gives me a right to accept so +much from you?"</p> +<p>It might have been in the moonlight that Ezram's eyes glittered +perceptibly. "You're in my charge," he grinned. "I guess you ain't +got any say comin'."</p> +<p>"Wait—wait." Ben sprang to his feet, and caught by his +earnestness, Ezram got up too. "I sure—I sure appreciate the +trust you put in me," Ben went on slowly. "For my own part I'd give +everything I've got and all I'd hope to ever get to go with you. +It's a chance such as I never dared believe would come to me +again—a chance for big success—a chance to go away and +get a new start in a country where I feel, instinctively, that I'd +make good. But that's only the beginning of it."</p> +<p>The dark vivid eyes seemed to glow in the soft light. "Forgive +me if I talk frank; and if it sounds silly I can't help it," Ben +continued. "You've never been in prison—with a five-year +sentence hanging over you—and nobody giving a damn. For some +reason I can't guess you've already done more for me than I can +ever hope to repay. You got me out of prison, you wakened hope and +self-respect in me when I thought they were dead, and you've proved +a friend when I'd given up any thought of ever knowing human +friendship again. I was down and out, Ezram. Anything you want me +to do I'll do to the last ditch. You know I can fight—you +know how a man can fight if it's his last chance. I've got some +bonus money coming to me from the Canadian Government—and +I'll put that in too, because we'll be needing horses and supplies +and things that cost money. But I can't take all that from a +stranger. You must know how it is. A man can't, while he's young +and strong, accept charity—"</p> +<p>"Good Lord, it ain't charity!" the old man shouted, drowning him +out. "I'm gettin' as much pleasure out of it as you." His voice +sank again; and there was no line of mirth in his face.</p> +<p>"It was long ago, in Montreal," Ezram went on, after a pause. "I +knew your mother, as a girl. She married a better man, but I told +her that every wish of hers was law to me. You're her son."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="IV"></a> +<h2>IV</h2> +<br> +<p>Night is always a time of mystery in Snowy Gulch—that +little cluster of frame shacks lost and far in the northern reaches +of the Caribou Range. Shadows lie deep, pale lights spring up here +and there in windows, with gaping, cavernous darkness between; a +wet mist is clammy on the face. At such times one forgets that here +is a town, an enduring outpost of civilization, and can remember +only the forests that stretch so heavy and dark on every side. +Indeed the town seems simply swallowed up in these forests, +immersed in their silence, overspread by their gloom, and the red +gods themselves walk like sentries in the main street.</p> +<p>The breath that is so fragrant and strange between the fronting +rows of shacks is simply that of the forest: inept the woodsman who +would not recognize it at once. The silence is a forest silence, +and if the air is tense and electric, it is because certain +wilderness forces that no white man can name but which surely dwell +in the darker thickets have risen and are in possession.</p> +<p>It is not a time when human beings are at their best and +strongest. There is an instinctive, haunting feeling which, though +not fear, wakens a feeling of inadequacy and meekness. Only a +few—those who have given their love and their lives to the +wild places—have any idea of sympathetic understanding with +it. Among these was Beatrice Neilson, and she herself did not fully +understand the dreams and longings that swept her ever at the fall +of the mysterious wilderness night.</p> +<p>The forest had never grown old to her. Its mystery was undying. +Born in its shadow, her love had gone out to it in her earliest +years, and it held her just as fast to-day. All her +dreams—the natural longings of an imaginative girl born to +live in an uninhabited portion of the earth—were inextricably +bound up in it; whatever plans she had for the future always +included it. Not that she was blind to its more terrible qualities: +its might and its utter remorselessness that all foresters, sooner +or later, come to recognize. Her thews were strong, and she loved +it all the more for the tests that it put to its children.</p> +<p>She was a daughter of the forests, and its mark was on her. +To-night the same moon that, a thousand miles to the south, was +lighting the way for Ben and Ezram on their northern journey, shone +on her as she hastened down the long, shadowed street toward her +father's shack, revealing her forest parentage for all to see. The +quality could be discerned in her very carriage—swift and +graceful and silent—vaguely suggesting that of the wild +creatures themselves. But there was no coarseness or ruggedness +about her face and form such as superficial observation might have +expected. Physically she was like a deer, strong, straight-limbed, +graceful, slender rather than buxom, dainty of hands and feet. A +perfect constitution and healthful surroundings had done all this. +And good fairies had worked further magic: as she passed beneath +the light at the door of the rude hotel there was revealed an +unquestioned and rather startling facial beauty.</p> +<p>It seemed hardly fitting in this stern, rough land—the +soft contour and delicacy of the girl's features. It had come +straight from her mother, a woman who, in gold-rush days, had been +the acknowledged beauty of the province. Nor was it merely the +attractive, animal beauty that is so often seen in healthy, rural +girls. Rather its loveliness was of a mysterious, haunting kind +that one associates with old legends and far distant lands.</p> +<p>Perhaps its particular appeal lay in her eyes. They seemed to be +quite marvelously deep and clear, so darkly gray that they looked +black in certain lights, and they were so shadowed and pensive that +sometimes they gave the image of actual sadness. For all the +isolation of her home she was no stranger to romance; but the +romance that was to be seen, like a gentleness, in her face was +that of the great, shadowed forest in which she dwelt.</p> +<p>Pensive, wistful, enthralled in a dreamy sadness,—what +could be nearer the tone and pitch of the northern forest itself? +There might have been also depths of latent passion such as is +known to all who live the full, strong life of the woods. The lines +were soft about her lips and eyes, indicating a marked sweetness +and tenderness of nature; but these traits did not in the least +deny her parentage. No one but the woodsman knows how gentle, how +hospitably tender, the forest may be at times.</p> +<p>She had fine, dark straight brows that served to darken her +eyes, dark brown hair waving enough to soften every line of her +face, a girlish throat and a red mouth surprisingly tender and +childish. As might have been expected her garb was neither rich nor +smart, but it was pretty and well made and evidently fitted for her +life: a loose "middy," blue skirt, woolen stockings and rather +solid little boots.</p> +<p>As she passed the door of the hotel one of the younger men who +had been lounging about the stove strode out and accosted her. She +half-turned, recognized his face in the lamplight, and frankly +recoiled.</p> +<p>She had been lost in dreams before, vaguely pensive, for +Beatrice had been watching the darkness overspread and encompass +the dark fringe of the spruce forest that enclosed the town. Now, +because she recognized the man and knew his type—born of the +wild places even as herself, but a bastard breed—the tender, +wistful half-smile sped from her childish mouth and her eyes grew +alert and widened as if with actual fear. She halted, evidently in +doubt as to her course.</p> +<p>"Going home?" the man asked. "I'm going up to see your pop, and +I'll see you there, if you don't mind."</p> +<p>Ray Brent's voice had an undeniable ring of power. It was deeply +bass, evidently the voice of a passionate, reckless, brutal man. +The covetous caress of his thick hand upon her arm indicated that +he was wholly sure of himself in regard to her.</p> +<p>She stared with growing apprehension into his even-featured, not +unhandsome face. Evidently she found it hard to meet his +eyes,—eyes wholly lacking in humor and kindliness, but +unquestionably vivid and compelling under his heavy, dark brows. +"I'm going home," she told him at last. "I guess, if you're going +up to see Pop, you can walk along too."</p> +<p>The man fell in beside her, his powerful frame overshadowing +hers. It was plain at once that the manner of her consent did not +in the least disturb him. "You're just letting me because I'm going +up there anyway, eh?" he asked. "I'll walk along further than that +with you before I'm done."</p> +<p>The girl paused, as if in appeal. "Ray, we've thrashed that out +long ago," she responded. "I wish you wouldn't keep talking about +it. If you want to walk with me—"</p> +<p>"All right, but you'll be changing your mind one of these days." +Ray's voice rang in the silence, indicating utter indifference to +the fact that many of the loungers on the street were listening to +the little scene. "I've never seen anything I wanted yet that I +didn't get—and I want you. Why don't you believe what your +pop says about me? He thinks Ray Brent is the goods."</p> +<p>"I'm not going to talk about it any more. I've already given you +my answer—twenty times."</p> +<p>The man talked on, but the girl walked with lifted chin, +apparently not hearing. They followed the board sidewalk into the +shadows, finally turning in at a ramshackle, three-room house that +was perched on the hillside almost at the end of the street at the +outer limits of the village.</p> +<p>The girl turned to go in, but the man held fast to her arm. +"Wait just a minute, Bee," he urged. "I've got one thing more to +say to you."</p> +<p>The girl looked into his face, now faintly illumined by the full +moon that was rising, incredibly large and white, above the dark +line of the spruce tops. For all the regularity of his rather +handsome features, his was never an attractive face to her, even in +first, susceptible girlhood; and in the moonlight it suddenly +filled her with dread. Ray Brent was a dangerous type: imperious +willed, slave to his most degenerate instincts, reckless, as free +from moral restraint as the most savage creatures that roamed his +native wilds. Now his facial lines appeared noticeably deep, dark +like scars, and curious little flakes of iniquitous fire danced in +his sunken eyes.</p> +<p>"Just one minute, Bee," he went on, wholly rapt in his own, +devouring desires. The dark passions of the man, always just under +the skin, seemed to be getting out of bounds. "When I want +something, I don't know how to quit till I get it. It's part of my +nature. Your pop knows that—and that's why he's made me his +pardner in a big deal."</p> +<p>"If my father wants men like you—for his pardners, I can't +speak for his judgment."</p> +<p>"Wait just a minute. He's told me—and I know he's told you +too—that I'd suit him all right for a son-in-law. He and I +agree on that. And this country ain't like the places you read +about in your story books—it's a man's country. Oh, I know +you well enough. It's time you got down to brass tacks. If you're +going to be a northern woman, you've got to be content with the +kind of men that grow up here. Up here, the best man wins, the +hardest, strongest man. That's why I'm going to win you."</p> +<p>Because he was secretly attacking her dreams, the dearest part +of her being, she felt the first surge of rising anger.</p> +<p>"You're not the best man here," she told him, straightening. "If +you were, I'd move out. You may be the strongest in your body, and +certainly the hardest, going further to get your own way—but +a real man would break you in two in a minute. Some one more than a +brute to beat horses to death and jump claims. I'm going in now. +Please take away your hand."</p> +<p>"One thing more. This is the North. We do things in a man's way +up here—not a story-book way. The strong man gets what he +wants—and I want you. And I'll get you, too—just like I +get this kiss."</p> +<p>He suddenly snatched her toward him. A powerful man; she was +wholly helpless in his grasp. His arms went about her and he +pressed his lips to hers—three times. Then he released her, +his eyes glowing like red coals.</p> +<p>But she was a northern girl, trained to self-defense. As he +freed her, her strong, slender arm swung out and up—with +really startling force. Her half-closed hand struck with a sharp, +drawing motion across his lips, a blow that extinguished his +laughter as the wind extinguishes a match-blaze.</p> +<p>"You little—devil!"</p> +<p>The tempest of the forest was upon her, and her eyes blazed as +she hastened around the house.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="V"></a> +<h2>V</h2> +<p>Jeffery Neilson and Chan Heminway were already in session when +Ray Brent, his face flushed and his eyes still angry and red, +joined them. Neilson was a tall, gaunt man, well past +fifty—from his manner evidently the leader of the three. He +had heavy, grizzled brows and rather quiet eyes, a man of deep +passions and great resolve. Yet his lean face had nothing of the +wickedness of Brent's. There had evidently been some gentling, +redeeming influence in his life, and although it was not in the +ascendancy, it had softened his smile and the hard lines about his +lips. Notorious as he was through the northern provinces he was +infinitely to be preferred to Chan Heminway, who sat at his left +who, a weaker man than either Ray or Neilson, was simply a tool in +the latter's hand,—a smashing sledge or a cruel blade as his +master wished. He was vicious without strength, brutal without +self-control. Locks of his blond hair, unkempt, dropped over his +low forehead into his eyes.</p> +<p>"Where's Beatrice?" Neilson asked at once. "I thought I heard +her voice."</p> +<p>Ray searched for a reply, and in the silence all three heard the +girl's tread as she went around the house. "She's going in the back +door. Likely she didn't want to disturb us."</p> +<p>Ray looked up to find Neilson's eyes firmly fixed upon his face. +Try hard as he might he couldn't restrain a surge of color in his +cheeks. "Yes, and what's the rest of it?" Neilson asked.</p> +<p>"Nothing—I know of."</p> +<p>"You've got some white marks on your cheeks—where it ain't +red. The kid can slap, can't she—"</p> +<p>Ray flushed deeper, but the lines of Neilson's face began to +deepen and draw. Then his voice broke in a great, hearty chuckle. +He had evidently tried to restrain it—but it got away from +him at last. No man could look at him, his twinkling eyes and his +joyous face, and doubt but that this soft-eyed, strong-handed +daughter of his was the joy and pride of his life. He had heard the +ringing slap through the ramshackle walls of the house, and for all +that he favored Ray as his daughter's suitor, the independence and +spirit behind the action had delighted him to the core.</p> +<p>But Ray's sense of humor did not run along these lines. The +first danger signal of rising anger leaped like a little, hot spark +into his eyes. Many times before Ray had been obliged to curb his +wrath against Neilson: to-night he found it more difficult than +ever. The time would come, he felt, when he would no longer be +obliged to submit to Neilson's dictation. Sometime the situation +would be reversed; he would be leader instead of underling, taking +the lion's share of the profit of their enterprises instead of the +left-overs, and when that time came he would not be obliged to +endure Neilson's jests in silence. Neilson himself, as he eyed the +stiffening figure, had no realization of Ray's true attitude toward +him. He thought him a willing helper, a loyal partner, and he would +not have sat with such content in his chair if he could have beheld +the smoldering fires of jealousy and ambition in the other's +breasts The time would come when Ray would assert himself, he +thought—when Beatrice was safe in his hands.</p> +<p>"It may seem like a joke to you, but it doesn't to me," he +answered shortly. Nor was he able to keep his anger entirely from +his voice. "Everything that girl does you think is perfect. Instead +of encouraging her in her meanness you ought to help me out." His +tones harshened, and he lost the fine edge of his self-control. +"I've stood enough nonsense from that little—"</p> +<p>Seemingly, Neilson made no perceptible movement in his chair. +What change there was showed merely in the lines of his face, and +particularly in the light that dwelt in the gray, straightforward +eyes. "Don't finish it," he ordered simply.</p> +<p>For an instant eyes met eyes in bitter hatred—and Chan +Heminway began to wonder just where he would seek cover in case +matters got to a shooting stage. But Ray's gaze broke before that +of his leader. "I'm not going to say anything I shouldn't," he +protested sullenly. "But this doesn't look like you're helping out +my case any. You told me you'd do everything you could for me. You +even went so far as to say you'd take matters in your own +hands—"</p> +<p>"And I will, in reason. I'm keeping away the rest of the boys so +you can have a chance. But if you think I'm going to tie her up to +anybody against her will, you're barking up the wrong tree. She's +my daughter, and her happiness happens to be my first object." Then +his voice changed, good-humored again. "But cool down, +boy—wait till you hear everything I've got to tell you, and +you'll feel better. Of course, you know what it's about—"</p> +<p>"I suppose—Hiram Melville's claim."</p> +<p>"That's it. Of course we don't know that he had a +claim—but he had a pocket full of the most beautiful nuggets +you ever want to see. No one knows that fact but me—I saw 'em +by accident—and I got 'em now. You know he's always had an +idea that the Yuga country was worth prospecting, but we always +laughed at him. Of course it is a pocket country; but it's my +opinion he found a pocket that would make many a placer look sick, +before he died."</p> +<p>"But he might have got the nuggets somewheres else—"</p> +<p>"Hold your horses. Where would he get 'em? There's something +else suspicious too. He wrote a letter, the day before he died, and +addressed it to Ezra Melville, somewhere in Oregon. He must just +about got it by now—maybe a few days ago. He had the clerk +mail it for him, and got him to witness it, saying it was his +will—and what did that old hound have to will except a mine? +Next day he wrote another letter somewhere too—but I didn't +find out who it was to. If I'd had any gumption I'd got ahold of +'em both. The point is—I'm convinced it's worth a trip, at +least."</p> +<p>"I should say it was worth a trip," Ray agreed. "And a fast one, +too. There might be some competition—"</p> +<p>"There won't be a rush, if that's what you mean. Everybody knows +it's a pocket country, and the men in this town wouldn't any more +get excited about the Yuga River—"</p> +<p>"True enough—but that Ezra Melville will be showin' up one +of these days. We want to be settin' pretty when he comes."</p> +<p>"You've got the idea. It ought to be the easiest job we ever +did. It's my idea he had his claim all laid out, monuments up and +everything, and was on his way down to Bradleyburg to record it +when he died. He just went out before he could make the rest of the +trip. All we'll have to do is go up there, locate in his cabin, and +sit tight."</p> +<p>"Wait just a second." Ray was lost in thought. "There's an old +cabin up that way somewhere—along that still place—on +the river. It was a trapping cabin belonging to old Bill +Foulks."</p> +<p>"That's true enough—but it likely ain't near his mine. +Boys, it's a clean, open-and-shut job—with absolutely nothing +to interfere. If his brother does come up, he'll find us in +possession—and nothing to do but go back. So to-morrow we'll +load up and pack horses and light out."</p> +<p>"Up Poor Man creek, through Spruce Pass—"</p> +<p>"Sure. Then over to the Yuga. Old Hiram was hunting down some +kind of a scent in the vicinity of that old cabin you speak of, +last heard of him. And I wouldn't be surprised, on second thought, +if it wasn't his base of operations."</p> +<p>"All easy enough," Ray agreed. He paused, and a queer, +speculative look came into his wild-beast's eyes. "But what I don't +see—how you can figure all this is going to help me out with +Beatrice."</p> +<p>Jeffery Neilson turned in his chair. "You can't, eh? You need +spectacles. Just think a minute—say you had fifty or sixty +thousand all your own—to spend on a wife and buy her clothes +and automobiles. Don't you think that would make you more +attractive to the feminine eye?"</p> +<p>At first Ray made no apparent answer. He merely sat staring +ahead. But plainly the words had wakened riot in his imagination. +Such a sum meant <i>wealth</i>, the power his ambitious nature had +always craved, idleness and the gratification of all his lusts. He +was no stranger to greed, this degenerate son of the North. "It'd +help some," he admitted in a low voice. "But what makes you think +it would be worth that much?"</p> +<p>"Because old Hiram talked a little, half-delirious, before he +died. 'A quarter of a million,' he kept saying. 'Right there in +sight—a quarter of a million.' If he really found that much +stowed away in the rocks, that's fifty or sixty apiece for you and +Chan."</p> +<p>Ray's mind worked swiftly. Sixty thousand apiece—and that +left one hundred and thirty thousand for their leader's portion. +The old rage and jealousy that had preyed upon his mind so long +swept over him, more compelling than ever. "Go on," he urged. +"What's the rest of it?"</p> +<p>"The second thing is—we'll need some one to cook, and look +after us, when we get up there. Who should it be but Beatrice? She +wouldn't want to stay here; you know how she loves the woods. And +if you know anything about girls, you know that nothing counts like +having 'em alone. There wouldn't be any of the other boys up there +to trouble you. You'd have a clear field."</p> +<p>Ray's dark eyes shone. "It'd help some," he admitted. "That +means—hunt up an extra horse for her to-morrow."</p> +<p>"No. I don't intend she should come up now. Not till we're +settled."</p> +<p>"Why not?"</p> +<p>"Think a minute, and you'll see why not. You know how she +regards this business of jumping claims. She's dead against it if +any one could be—bless her heart!"</p> +<p>"Don't go getting sentimental, Neilson."</p> +<p>"And don't let that mouth of yours get you into trouble, +either." Once more their eyes locked: once more Ray looked away. "I +hope she'll always stay that way, too. As I say, she's dead against +it, and she's been a little suspicious ever since that Jenkins +deal. Besides, it wouldn't be any pleasure for her until we find a +claim and get settled. When she comes up we'll be established in a +couple of cabins—one for her and me and one for you +two—and she won't know but that we made the original +find."</p> +<p>"How will she know just where to find us?"</p> +<p>"We're bound to be somewhere near that old cabin on the Yuga. +We'll set a date for her to come, and I can meet her there."</p> +<p>It was, Ray was forced to admit, a highly commendable scheme. He +sat back, contemplating all its phases. "It's slick enough," he +agreed. "It ought to do the trick."</p> +<p>But if he had known the girl's thoughts, as she sat alone in the +back part of the house, he wouldn't have felt so confident. She was +watching the moon over the spruce forest, and she was thinking, +with repugnance in her heart, of the indignity to which she had +been subjected at her father's door. Yet the kisses Ray had forced +on her were no worse than his blasphemy of her dreams. The spirit +of romance was abroad to-night—in the enchantment of the +moon—and she was wistful and imaginative as never before. +This was just the normal expression of her starved +girlhood—the same childlike wistfulness with which a +Cinderella might long for her prince—just as natural and as +wholesome and as much a part of youth as laughter and +happiness.</p> +<p>"I won't believe him, I won't believe him," she told herself. +Her thought turned to other channels, and her heart spoke its wish. +"Wherever he is—sometime he'll come to me."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="VI"></a> +<h2>VI</h2> +<p>At a little town at the end of steel Ben and Ezram ended the +first lap of their journey. They had had good traveling these past +days. Steadily they had gone north, through the tilled lands of +Northern Washington, through the fertile valleys of lower British +Columbia, traversing great mountain ranges and penetrating gloomy +forests, and now had come to the bank of a north-flowing +river,—a veritable flood and one of the monarch rivers of the +North. Every hour their companionship had been more close and their +hopes higher. Every waking moment Ben had been swept with +thankfulness for the chance that had come to him.</p> +<p>They had worked for their meals and passage—hard, manual +toil—but it had seemed only play to them both. Sometimes they +mended fence, sometimes helped at farm labor, and one gala morning, +with entire good will and cheer, they beat into cleanliness every +carpet in a widow's cottage. And the sign of the outcast was fading +from Ben's flesh.</p> +<p>The change was marked in his face. His eye seemed more clear and +steadfast, his lips more firm, the lines of his face were not so +hard and deep. His fellows of the underworld would have scarcely +known him now,—his lips and chin darkening with beard and +this new air of self-respect upon him. Perhaps they had forgotten +him, but it was no less than he had done to them. The prison walls +seemed already as if they hadn't been true. He loved every minute +of the journey, freshness instead of filth, freedom instead of +confinement, fragrant fields and blossoming flowers. Ever the stars +and the moon, remembered of old, yielded him a peace and happiness +beyond his power to tell. And his gratitude to Ezram grew +apace.</p> +<p>Besides self-confidence and the constant, slow unraveling of his +memory problems, each day yielded rich gifts: no less than added +trust in each other. Always they found each other steadfast, +utterly to be relied upon. Ezram never regretted for a moment his +offer to Ben. The young man had seemingly developed under his eye +and was a real aid to him in all the problems of the journey.</p> +<p>As the days passed, the whole tone and key of the land had +seemed to change. They were full in the mountains now, snow +gleaming on the heights, forests blue-black on the slopes; and +Ben's response was a growing excitement that at first he could not +analyze. The air was sweeter, more bracing, and sometimes he +discerned a fleeting, delicate odor that drew him up short in his +talk and held him entranced. There was a sparkle and stir in the +air, unknown in the cities he had left; and to breathe it deeply +thrilled him with an unexplainable happiness.</p> +<p>Some way it was all familiar, all dear to him as if it had once +been close to his life. The sparkle in the air was not new, only +recalled: long and long ago he had wakened to find just such a +delicate fragrance in his nostrils. But the key hadn't come to him +yet. His memory pictures were ever stronger of outline, clearer in +his mind's eye, yet they were still too dim for him to interpret +them. In these days Ezram watched him closely, with a curious, +intense interest.</p> +<p>It was no longer pleasant to sleep out in the hay. For the sake +of warmth alone they were obliged to hire their night's lodging at +cheap hotels. Spring was full in the land they had left: it was +just beginning here. The mountains, visible from the village of +Saltsville where they left the railroad, were still swept with +snow.</p> +<p>Ben felt that he would have liked to take a day off at this +point and venture with his companion into the high, wooded hills +that fronted the town, but he agreed with Ezram that they could not +spare the time. They swiftly made preparations for their journey +down-river. A canoe was bought for a reasonable sum—they were +told they had a good chance of selling it again when they left the +river near Snowy Gulch—and at the general store they bought +an axe, rudimentary fishing tackle, tobacco, blankets, and all +manner of simpler provisions, such as flour, rice, bacon, coffee, +canned milk, and sugar. And for a ridiculously small sum which he +mysteriously produced from the pocket of his faded jeans Ezram +bought a second-hand rifle—an ancient gun of large caliber +but of enduring quality—and a box of shells to match.</p> +<p>"Old Hiram left me a gun, but we'll each need one," Ezram +explained. "And they tell me there's a chance to pick up game, like +as not, goin' down the river."</p> +<p>They would have need of good canoe-craft before the journey's +end, the villagers told them. Ezram had not boasted of any such +ability, and at first Ben regarded the plan with considerable +misgivings. And it was with the most profound amazement that, when +they pushed off, he saw Ezram deliberately seat himself in the bow, +leaving the more important place to his young companion.</p> +<p>"Good heavens, I'll capsize you in a minute," Ben said. "How do +you dare risk it----"</p> +<p>"Push off and stop botherin' me," Ezram answered. "There's a +paddle—go ahead and shoot 'er."</p> +<p>The waters caught the canoe, speeding it downstream; and in +apprehension of immediate disaster Ben seized the paddle. Swiftly +he thrust it into the streaming water at his side.</p> +<p>He was not further aware of Ezram's searching gaze. He did not +know of the old man's delight at the entire incident—first +the anxious, hurried stroke of the paddle, then the movement of +Ben's long fingers as he caught a new hold, finally the white flame +of exultation that came into his face. For himself, Ben instantly +knew that this was his own sphere. He suddenly found himself an +absolute master of his craft: at the touch of the paddle +controlling it as a master mechanic controls a delicate +machine.</p> +<p>The white waters were no more to be feared. He found that he +knew, as if by instinct, every trick of the riverman's +trade,—the slow stroke, the fast stroke, the best stroke for +a long day's sail, the little half-turn in his hands that put the +blade on edge in the water and gave him the finest control. It was +all so familiar, so unspeakably dear to him. Clear, bright memories +hovered close to him, almost within his grasp.</p> +<p>"Do you remember when you shot the Athabaska Rapids?" Ezram had +asked. It was all clear enough. In that life that was forgotten he +had evidently lived much in a canoe, knowing every detail of river +life. Perhaps he had been a master canoeist; at least he felt a +strange, surging sense of self-confidence and power. He understood, +now, why the image of rushing waters had come so often into his +dreams. Dim pictures of river scenes—cataracts white with +foam, rapids with thunderous voices, perilous eddies, and then, +just beyond, glassy waters where the shadow of the canoe was +unbroken in the blue depths—streamed through his mind, but +they were not yet bright enough for him to seize and hold.</p> +<p>He enjoyed the first few hours of paddling, but in the long, +warm afternoon came indolence, and they were both willing to glide +with the current and watch the ever-changing vista of the shore. +For the first time since they had come into the real North, Ben +found opportunity to observe and study the country.</p> +<p>Already they were out of sight of the last vestige of a +habitation; and the evergreen forests pushed down to the water's +edge. From the middle of the stream the woods appeared only as a +dark wall, but this was immeasurably fascinating to Ben. It +suggested mystery, adventure; yet its deeper appeal, the thing that +stirred him and thrilled him to the quick, he could neither +understand nor analyze.</p> +<p>Sometimes a little clump of trees stood apart, and from their +shape he identified them as the incomparable spruce, perhaps the +most distinguished and beautiful of all the evergreens. He marked +their great height, their slender forms, their dark foliage that +ever seemed to be silvered with frost; and they seemed to him to +answer, to the fullest extent, some vague expectation of which he +had scarcely been aware.</p> +<p>The wild life of the river filled him with speechless delight. +Sometimes he saw the waters break and gleam at the leap of a mighty +salmon—the king fish of the North on his spring rush to the +headwaters where he would spawn and die—and often the canoe +sent flocks of waterfowl into flight. Ben dimly felt that on the +tree-clad shores larger, more glorious living creatures were +standing, hiding, watching the canoe glide past. The thought +thrilled him.</p> +<p>Late afternoon, and they worked closer to the shore. They were +watching for a place to land. But because the shadows of twilight +were already falling, the forest itself was hardly more vivid to +their eyes. Once it seemed to Ben that he saw the underbrush move +and waver at the water's edge, and his heart leaped; but whatever +stirred kept itself concealed. And now, in the gray of twilight, +Ezram saw the place to land.</p> +<p>It was a small lagoon into which a creek emptied, and beyond was +an open meadow, found so often and so unexpectedly in the North +woods. Swiftly Ben turned the canoe into shore.</p> +<p>Ezram climbed out and made fast, and so busy was he with his +work that he did not glance at Ben, otherwise he might have beheld +a phenomenon that would have been of keen interest to the alienist, +Forest. His young charge had suddenly grown quite pale. Ben himself +was neither aware of this nor of the fact that his heart was +hammering wildly in his breast and his blood racing, like wild +rivers, through his veins: he was only thrilled and held by a sense +of vast, impending developments. Every nerve tingled and thrilled, +and why he did not know.</p> +<p>Ezram began to unload; but now, his blue eyes shining, he began +a covert watch of his young companion. He saw the man from prison +suddenly catch his breath in inexpressible awe and his eye kindle +with a light of unknown source. A great question was shaping itself +in Ben's mind, but as yet he could not find the answer.</p> +<p>All at once Ben knew this place. Here was nothing strange or +new: it was all as he had known it would be in his inmost heart. +All of it spoke to him with familiar voice, seemingly to welcome +him as a son is welcomed after long absence. There was nothing here +that had not been known and beloved of old. Vivid memories, bright +as lightning, swept through him.</p> +<p>He had always known this wholesome, sweet breath that swept into +his face. It was merely that of the outdoors, the open places that +were his own haunts. It was wholly fitting and true that the +silence should lie over the dark spruce that ringed about him, a +silence that, in its infinite harmony with some queer mood of +silence in his own heart, was more moving than any voice. All was +as he had secretly known: the hushed tree aisles, the gray +radiance—soft as a hand upon the brow—of the afterglow; +the all-pervading health and peace of the wilderness. Except for an +old and trusted companion, he was alone with it all, and that too +was as it should be. Just he and the forest, his companion and the +gliding river.</p> +<p>He didn't try to understand, at first, the joy and the wonder +that thrilled him, nor could he speak aloud the thoughts that came +to him. Ravished and mystified, he walked softly to the dark, still +edge of the forest, penetrated it a distance, then sat down to +wait.</p> +<p>For the first time in years, it seemed to him, he was at peace. +A strange sense of self-realization—lost to him in his years +of exile—climbed like fire through him; and with it the +return of a lost virility, a supreme vigor tingling each little +nerve; a sense of strength and power that was almost blinding.</p> +<p>He sat still. He saw the twilight descending, ever heavier, over +the forest. The sharp edges of the individual trees faded and +blended, the trunks blurred. He turned one fleeting glance of +infinite, inexpressible gratitude toward Ezram—the man who +had brought him here and who now was busily engaged in unpacking +the canoe and making camp—then looked back to his forests. +The wind brought the wood smells,—spruce and moldering earth +and a thousand more no man could name. The great, watchful, +brooding spirit of the forest went in to him.</p> +<p>All at once his heart seemed to pause in his breast. He was +listening,—for what he did not know. His eyes strained into +the shadows. Brush wavered, a twig cracked with a miniature +explosion. And then two figures emerged into the beaver meadow +opposite him.</p> +<p>They were only creatures of the wild, an old cow moose, black +and ungainly, and her long-legged, awkward calf. Yet they supplied +the detail that was missing. They were the one thing needed to +complete the picture—the crowning touch that revealed this +land as it was—the virgin wilderness where the creatures of +the wild still held full sway.</p> +<p>But it did more. All at once a great clarity seemed to take +possession of his mind. Here, in these dark forests, were the +<i>stimuli</i> of which Forest, the alienist, had spoken; and his +brain seemed to leap, as in one impulse, to the truth. Suddenly he +knew the answer to all the questions and problems that had troubled +him so long.</p> +<p>Many times, in the past years, he had seen logs jammed in the +water, a veritable labyrinth that defied dissolution. Suddenly, as +if by magic, the key log would be ejected, and the whole jam would +break, shatter down in one stupendous crash, settle and dissolve, +leaving at last only drift logs floating quietly in the river. Thus +it was with the confusion in his brain. All at once it seemed to +dissolve, the tangled skeins straightened out, the association +areas of his mind stirred full into life once more. As he sat +there, pale as the twilight sky, the mists of amnesia lifted from +him. He was cured as if by the touch of a holy man.</p> +<p>No wonder these forests depths were familiar. His boyhood and +early manhood, clear until the vortex of war had engulfed him, had +been spent amid just such surroundings, in just such silences, on +the banks of just such wilderness rivers. The same sky line of +dark, heaven-reaching spruce had fronted him of old. He sprang up, +his eyes blazing. "I remember everything," an inaudible voice spoke +within him. Then he whispered, fervently, to his familiar wilds. +"And I have come home."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="VII"></a> +<h2>VII</h2> +<br> +<p>Everything was as it should be, as he and Ezram made the camp. +He himself cut the boughs for their beds, laid them with his +remembered skill, spread the blankets, and kept the fire blazing +while Ezram cooked; afterwards he knew the indescribable peace of a +pipe smoke beside the glowing coals. He saw the moon come up at +last, translating the spruce forest into a fairy land.</p> +<p>Of course he had remembered the moon. How many times had he +watched for its argent gleam on the sky line, the vivid, detailed +silhouette of the spruce against it; and then its slow-spreading +glory through the still, dark forests! The spires of the trees grew +ensilvered, as always; immense nebulous patches lay between the +trunks, shadows stole mysteriously, phantoms met, lingered, and +vanished.</p> +<p>This was his own North! The stir and vigor in the very air told +him that. This was the land he had dreamed of, under the moon; the +primeval forests that had tried him, tested him, staked their cruel +might against him, but yet had blessed him with their infinite +beneficence and hospitality. It was ever somber, yet its dusky +beauty stirred him more than any richness he had seen in bright +cities. He knew its every mood: ecstasy in spring; gentleness in +summer; brooding melancholy in the gray days of fall; remorseless, +savage, but unspeakably beautiful in the winter. He felt his old +pity for the spring flowers, blossoming so hopefully in this gentle +season. How soon they would be covered with many feet of snow!</p> +<p>"It's all come clear again," he told Ezram. And the two men +talked over, quietly and happily, old days at Thunder Lake. He +remembered now that Ezram had always been the most intimate friend +of his own family: a spry old godfather to himself and young +sister, a boon companion to his once successful rival, Ben's +father. Ben did not wonder, now, at his own perplexity when Forest +had spoken of "Wolf" Darby. That was his own name known throughout +hundreds of square miles of forest and in dozens of little river +hamlets in an Eastern province. Partly the name was in token of his +skill as a woodsman and frontiersman, partly in recognition of +certain traits that his fellow woodsmen had seen and wondered at in +him. It was not an empty nickname, in his case. It was simply that +the name suited him.</p> +<p>"The boys had reason a-plenty for callin' you that," Ezram told +him. "Up here, as you know, men don't get no complimentary epithets +unless they deserve 'em. Some men, Ben, are like weasels. You've +seen 'em. You've seen human rats, too. As if the souls they carried +around with 'em was the souls of rats. Of course you remember +'Grizzly' Silverdale? Did you ever see any one who in disposition +and looks and walk and everything reminded you so much of a grizzly +bear? I've known men like sheep, and men with the faithful souls of +dogs. You remember when you got in the big fight in the Le Perray +bar?"</p> +<p>"I don't think I'll ever forget it again."</p> +<p>"That's the night the name came on you, to stay. You remember +how you'd drive into one of them, leap away, then tear into +another. Like a wolf for all the world! You was always hard to get +into a fight, but you know as well as I do, and I ain't salvin' you +when I say it, that you're the most terrible, ferocious fighter, +forgettin' everything but blood, that ever paddled a canoe on the +Athabaska. Some men, Ben, seem to have the spirit of the wolf right +under their skins, a sort of a wild instinct that might have come +straight down from the stone age, for all I know. You happen to be +one of 'em, the worst I ever saw. Maybe you don't remember, but you +took your bull moose before you was thirteen years old."</p> +<p>Ben sat dreaming. The Athabaska Rapids was not an empty name to +him now. He remembered the day he had won the canoe race at Lodge +Pole. Other exploits occurred to him,—of brutal, savage +brawls in river taverns, of adventures on the trail, of struggling +with wild rivers when his canoe capsized, of running the great logs +down through white waters. It was his world, these far-stretching +wildernesses. And he blessed, with all the fervency of his heart, +the man who had brought him home.</p> +<p>He went to his bed, but sleep did not at once come to him. He +lay with hushed breathing, listening to the little, secret noises, +known so well, of the wilderness night. He heard the wild creatures +start forth on their midnight journeys. Once a lynx mewed at the +edge of the forest; and he laughed aloud when some large +creature—probably a moose—grunted and splashed water in +the near-by beaver meadow.</p> +<p>Thus ended the first of a brilliant succession of joyous days, +descending the stream in the daylight hours and camping on the bank +at night. Every day they plunged deeper into the heart of the +wilderness, and every hour Ben felt more at home.</p> +<p>It was only play for him,—to meet and shoot successfully +the rapids of the river. In the long stillnesses he paddled hour +upon hour, not only to make time but to find an outlet for his +surging energy. His old-time woodsman's pleasures were recalled +again: shooting waterfowl for their mess in the still dawns, racing +the swimming moose when they ran on him in the water. One day, fish +hungry, he rigged up the elementary fishing tackle that they had +brought from Saltsville and tried for a salmon.</p> +<p>To a long, tough rod cut on the river bank he attached thirty +feet of cheap, white cord, and to the cord he fastened a bright +spoon hook—the spinner that salmon fishers know. He had no +leader, no reel, no delicately balanced salmon rod—and Ezram +was full of scorn for the whole proceeding. And it was certainly +true that, by all the rules of angling, Ben had no chance whatever +to get a bite.</p> +<p>The cord was visible in the clear water, and the spoon itself +was scarcely more than twenty feet from the rear of the boat. But +this northern stream was not at all like the famous salmon rivers +known to sportsmen. In years to come, when the lines of +communication are better and tourist hotels are established on its +banks, the river may then begin to conform to the qualifications of +a conventional fishing stream, and then Ben's crude tackle will be +unavailing. But at present the salmon were not so particular. As +fishermen came but rarely, the fish were in countless numbers; and +in such a galaxy there were bound to be few misguided fish that did +not know a sportsman's tackle from a dub's.</p> +<p>The joy of angling, once known, dwells in the body until death, +and Ben was a born fisherman. The old delight that can never die +crept back to him the instant he felt the clumsy rod in his hands +and the faint throb of the line through the delicate mechanism of +his nerves. And apparently for no other reason than that the river +hordes wished to welcome him home, almost at once a gigantic bull +salmon took his spoon.</p> +<p>Ezram's first knowledge of it was a wild yell that almost +startled him over the side—the same violent outcry that old +anglers still can not restrain when the fish takes hold, even after +a lifetime of angling. When he recovered himself he looked to see +Ben kneeling frantically in the stern, hanging for dear life to his +rod and seemingly in grave danger of being pulled overboard.</p> +<p>No man who has felt that first, overpowering jolt of a striking +salmon can question the rapture of that first moment. The jolt +carried through all the intricacies of the nerves, jarred the soul +within the man, and seemingly registered in the germ plasm itself +an impression that could be recalled, in dreams, ten generations +hence. Fortunately the pole withstood that first, frantic rush, and +then things began to happen in earnest.</p> +<p>The great trout seemed to dance on the surface of the water. He +tugged, he swam in frantic circles, he flopped and darted and +sulked and rushed and leaped. If he hadn't been securely hooked, +and if it had not been for a skill earned in a hundred such +battles, Ben would not have held him a moment.</p> +<p>But the time came at last, after a sublime half-hour, when his +steam began to die. His rushes were less powerful, and often he +hung like a dead weight on the line. Slowly Ben worked him in, not +daring to believe that he was conquering, willing to sell his soul +for the privilege of seeing the great fish safe in the boat. His +eyes protruded, perspiration gleamed on his brow, he talked +foolishly and incessantly to Ezram, the fish, the river-gods, and +himself. Ezram, something of an old Isaac Walton himself, managed +the canoe with unusual dexterity and chuckled in the contagion of +Ben's delight. And lo—in a moment more the thing was +done.</p> +<p>"You'd think you never had a rod in your hand before," Ezram +commented in mock disgust. "Such hollerin' and whoopin' I never +heard."</p> +<p>Ben grinned widely. "That's fishing—the sport that keeps a +man an amateur all his days—with an amateur's delight." His +vivid smile quivered at his lips and was still. "That's why I love +the North; it can never, never grow old. You're just as excited at +the close as at the beginning. Ezram, old man, it's life!"</p> +<p>Ezram nodded. Perhaps, in the moment's fire, Ben had touched at +the truth. Perhaps <i>life</i>, in its fullest sense, is something +more than being born, breathing air, consuming food, and moving the +lips in speech. <i>Life</i> is a thing that wilderness creatures +know, realized only when the blood, leaping red, sweeps away +lifeless and palsied tissue and builds a more sentient structure in +its place; invoked by such forces as adventure and danger and +battle and triumph. For the past half-hour Ben had lived in the +fullest sense, and Ezram was a little touched by the look of +unspeakable gratitude with which his young companion regarded +him.</p> +<p>But the journey ended at last. They saw the white peak they had +been told to watch for, and soon after they came to a green bank +from which the forest had been cut away. Softly, rather +regretfully, they pushed up and made landing on the banks of a +small stream, tributary to the great river, that marked the end of +the water route.</p> +<p>This stream, Ezram knew, was Poor Man's Creek, the stream of +which his brother had written and which they must ascend to reach +Spruce Pass. Only five miles distant, in a quartering direction +from the river, was Snowy Gulch, the village where they were to +secure supplies and, from Steve Morris, the late Hiram's gun and +his pet, Fenris.</p> +<p>For a time, at least, they had left the utter solitudes of the +wild. Men had cut away the forest and had built a crude wagon road +to Snowy Gulch. And before they were fully unpacked they made out +the figure of a middle-aged frontiersman, his back loaded, +advancing up the road toward them.</p> +<p>Both men knew something of the ways of the frontier and turned +in greeting. "Howdy," Ezram began pleasantly.</p> +<p>"Howdy," the stranger replied. "How was goin'?"</p> +<p>"Oh, good enough."</p> +<p>"Come all the way from Saltsville?"</p> +<p>"Yes. Goin' to Snowy Gulch."</p> +<p>"It's only five miles, up this road," the stranger ventured. +"I'm goin' up Saltsville way myself, but I won't have no river to +tow me. I've got to do my own paddlin'. Thank the lord I'm only +goin' a small part of the way."</p> +<p>"You ain't goin' to swim, are you? Where's your boat."</p> +<p>"My pard's got an old craft, and he and I are goin' to pack it +out next trip." The stranger paused, blinking his eyes. "Say, +partners—you don't want to sell your boat, do you?"</p> +<p>Ben started to speak, but the doubtful look on Ezram's face +checked him. "Oh, I don't know," the old man replied, in the +discouraging tones of a born tradesman. In reality the old +Shylock's heart was leaping gayly in his breast. This was almost +too good to be true: a purchaser for the boat in the first hour. +"Yet we might," he went on. "We was countin' on goin' back in it +soon."</p> +<p>"I'd just as leave buy it, if you want to sell it. In this +jerked-off town there ain't a fit canoe to be had. Our boat is the +worst tub you ever seen. How much you want for it?"</p> +<p>Ezram stated his figure, and Ben was prone to believe that he +had adopted a highwayman for a buddy. The amount named was nearly +twice that which they had paid. And to his vast amazement the +stranger accepted the offer in his next breath.</p> +<p>"It's worth something to bring it up here, you dub," Ezram +informed his young partner, when the latter accused him of +profiteering.</p> +<p>After the sale was made Ezram and the stranger soon got on the +intimate terms that almost invariably follow a mutually +satisfactory business deal, and in the talk that ensued the old man +learned a fact of the most vital importance to their venture. And +it came like a bolt from the blue.</p> +<p>"So you don't know any folks in Snowy Gulch, then?" the stranger +had asked politely. "But you'll get acquainted soon +enough—"</p> +<p>"I've got a letter to a feller named Morris," Ezram replied. +"And I've heard of one or two more men too—Jeffery Neilson +was one of 'em—"</p> +<p>"You'll find Morris in town all right," the stranger ventured to +assure him. "He lives right next to Neilson's. +And—say—what do you know about this man Neilson?"</p> +<p>"Oh, nothin' at all. Why?"</p> +<p>"If you fellows is prospectin', Jeffery Neilson is a first-class +man to stay away from—and his understrapers, too—Ray +Brent and Chan Heminway. But they're out of town right now. They +skinned out all in a bunch a few weeks ago—and I can't tell +you what kind of a scent they got."</p> +<p>Ezram felt cold to the marrow of his bones. He glanced covertly +at Ben; fortunately his partner was busy among the supplies and was +not listening to this conversation. Yet likely enough it was a +false alarm! Doubtless the ugly possibility that occurred to him +had no justification whatever in fact. Nevertheless, he couldn't +restrain the question that was at his lips.</p> +<p>"You don't know where they went, do you?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Not exactly. They took up this creek here a ways, through +Spruce Pass, and over to Yuga River—the country that kind of +a crazy old chap named Hiram Melville, who died here a few weeks +ago, has always prospected."</p> +<p>The stranger marvelled that his old listener should have +suddenly gone quite pale.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="VIII"></a> +<h2>VIII</h2> +<p>Ezram had only a moment's further conversation with his new +friend. He put two or three questions—in a rather curious, +hushed voice—and got his answer. Yes, it was true that the +shortest way to go to the Yuga River was to follow up the creek by +which he was now standing. It was only out of the way to go into +Snowy Gulch: they would have to come back to this very point. And +yes, a pedestrian, carrying a light pack, could make much better +time than a horseman with pack animals. The horses could go no +faster than a walk, and the time required to sling packs and care +for the animals cut down the day's march by half.</p> +<p>These things learned, Ezram strolled over to his young partner. +And at that moment he revealed the possession of a talent that +neither he nor any of his friends had ever suspected. The stage had +lost an artist of no mean ability when Ezra Melville had taken to +the cattle business. Outwardly, to the last, little lines about his +lips and eyes, he was his genial, optimistic, droll old self. His +eye twinkled, his face beamed in the gray stubble, his voice was +rollicking with the fun of life the same as ever. And like +Pagliacci in his masque there was not the slightest exterior sign +of the fear and despair that chilled his heart.</p> +<p>"What have you and your poor victim been talking about, all this +time?" Ben asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, just a gab-fest—a tat-i-tat as you'd call it. But you +know, Ben, I've got a idea all a-sudden." Ben straightened, lighted +his pipe, and prepared to listen.</p> +<p>"This old boy tells me that we'd save just twelve miles by +striking off front here, instead of goin' into town. Snowy Gulch is +six miles, and we have to come back to this very place. What's the +use of goin' into town at all?"</p> +<p>"Good heavens, Ez? Have you forgotten we've got to get supplies? +And your brother's gun—and his dog?"</p> +<p>"How do you know he's got a dog?"</p> +<p>"He said a pup, didn't he? But it may be an elephant for all I +know. Of course, we've got to go on in."</p> +<p>"Yes, I know—one of us has. But, Ben, it seems to me that +one of us ought to strike off now and figure out the way and sort +of get located. One of us could take a little food and a couple of +blankets and make it through in less than a day. Half a day, +almost. Then we could have the cabin all ready, and everything laid +out for to begin work. He could blaze any dim spots in the trail +and save time for the other feller, comin' with the horses."</p> +<p>"Oh, it would be all right," Ben began rather doubtfully. "I +don't see that much is to be gained by it. But I'll strike off on +foot, if you want me to."</p> +<p>Ezram's mind was flashing with thoughts like lightning, and his +answer was ready. "Ben, if you don't mind, I'll do that," he said. +"I can get along without gazin' at the sky-scrapers of Snowy Gulch, +and to tell the truth, that twelve miles of extra walkin' don't +appeal to me one bit. I'd as soon have you tend to all the things +in town."</p> +<p>"But you'd get a ride, if you waited—"</p> +<p>"I hate a horse, anyway—"</p> +<p>"You've surely changed a lot since the war."</p> +<p>"I was thrown off not long ago—and have been leery of the +dum things ever since. I'd walk, sooner than ride, even if I did +have a horse. So you roll me that big Hudson Bay blanket and give +me a couple of day's rations. I'll make a pack for my back that I +can't feel. Then you strike off into town."</p> +<p>Without especial enthusiasm Ben agreed. Ezram gave a great sigh +of satisfaction. He had put through the deal: Ben's secret thought +was that Ezram's curiosity—always a pronounced trait with the +old—had mastered him, and he could not wait longer to explore +the mine. Not one glimpse of the truth as to Ezram's real reason +for desiring to push on alone as much as occurred to him.</p> +<p>Ezram was wholly deliberate. He knew what waited him on arrival +at his brother's claim. Jeffery Neilson and his gang had assembled +there, had already jumped the claim just as his brother had warned +him that they would do; and coolly and quietly he had resolved to +face them alone. They were desperate men, not likely to be driven +from the gold by threats or persuasion only. But there was no law +in his life, no precept in his code, whereby he could subject his +young partner to the risk.</p> +<p>It was true that the desire to arrive on the scene at the +earliest possible moment had been a factor in his decision. One of +them could hurry on, unimpeded by the pack animals, and the other +must linger to secure their supplies; and there could really be no +question, in Ezram's mind, which should go and which should stay. +He had known perfectly that if Ben had realized the true need for +haste, he would never have submitted so tamely to Ezram's will. The +old man knew Wolf Darby. The strong dark eyes in the lean, +raw-boned face reassured him as to this knowledge. Ben would go +too, if he knew the truth. Likely he would insist on going +alone.</p> +<p>Ezram had decided the whole thing in a flash, realizing that a +lone pedestrian would be practically as effective in dealing with +the usurpers as two horsemen, impeded by the pack animals. If they +didn't shoot to kill at first sight of him Ezram would have time in +plenty to seek refuge in the forest and do a sharpshooter's +business that would fill his old heart with joy. And there really +wasn't any question as to which of the two should go. Their +partnership was of long duration; their comradeship was deep; Ben +was young, and Ezram himself was old!</p> +<p>Ezram made his decision entirely casually, and he would have +been surprised out of his wits if any one had expressed wonder of +it. He knew no self-pity or sentimentality, only the knowledge that +he did not desire that his young buddy should be shot full of holes +in the first moment of play. The only fear that had visited him was +that Ben might catch on and not let him go. And now he could +scarcely restrain his triumphant chuckles in Ben's hearing.</p> +<p>He made his pack—a few simple provisions wrapped in his +blanket—and a knife and camp axe swung on his belt. He took +his trusted pipe—because he knew well that he could never +acquit himself creditably in a fight without a few lungfuls of +tobacco smoke first—and he also took his rifle. "You'll be +gettin' my brother's gun when you get to Snowy Gulch," he +explained, "and I may see game on the way out. And you keep this +copy of the letter." He handed Ben the copy he had made of Hiram's +will. "I'm the worst hand for losin' things you ever seen."</p> +<p>"You're sure you've got the directions straight?"</p> +<p>"Sure.—And I guess that's all."</p> +<p>They said their simple good-bys, shaking hands over a pile of +stores. "I've only got one decent place to keep things safe," Ezra +confided, "and that ain't so all-fired decent, either. When I get +any papers that are extra precious, I always stick 'em down the leg +of these high old boots, between the sock and the leather. But it's +too much work to take the boot off now, so you keep the +letter."</p> +<p>"I suppose you've got a million-dollar bank note hidden down +there now," Ben remarked.</p> +<p>"No, not a cent. Just the same, if ever I get shuffled off all +of a sudden—rollin' down one of these mountains, say—I +want you to look there mighty careful. There may be a document or +two of importance—letter to my old home, and all that."</p> +<p>"I won't forget," Ben promised.</p> +<p>"See that you don't." They shook hands again, lightly and +happily. "So good-by, son, and—'<i>take keer of +yerself</i>!'"</p> +<p>The old man turned away, and soon his withered figure vanished +into the thickets farther up the river. He was following a fairly +well-worn moose trail, and he went swiftly. Soon he was out of +hearing of the sound of the great river.</p> +<p>Then the little woods people—marten and ermine and rodent +and such other small forest creatures that—who can +say?—might watch with exceeding interest the travelers on the +trails, could have thought that old Ezram was already fatigued. He +sat down beside a tree and drew a soiled sheet of paper from his +pocket. Searching further he found then the stub of a pencil. Then +he wrote.</p> +<p>Having written he unlaced his boot on the right foot, folded the +paper, and thrust it into the bootleg. Then, relacing the shoe, he +arose and journeyed blithely on.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="IX"></a> +<h2>IX</h2> +<p>On arriving in Snowy Gulch, Ben's first efforts were to inquire +in regard to horses. Both pack and saddle animals, he learned, were +to be hired of Sandy McClurg, the owner of the general store and +leading citizen of the village; and at once he made his way to +confer with him.</p> +<p>"Most of my mustangs are rented out," the merchant informed him +when they met in the rear of the general store, "but if you can get +along with three, I guess I can fix you up. You can pack two of +'em, and ride the third."</p> +<p>"Good enough," Ben agreed. "And after I once get in, I'd like to +turn back two of them, and maybe all three—to save the hire +and the bother of taking care of them. I suppose, after the fashion +of cayuses, they'll leg it right home."</p> +<p>"Just a little faster than a dog. Horses don't much care to grub +their food out of them spruce forests. They're good plugs, so of +course I don't want to rent 'em to any one who'll abuse 'em, or +take 'em on too hard trips. Where are you heading, if the +question's fair?"</p> +<p>"Through Spruce Pass and down into the Yuga River."</p> +<p>"Prospecting, eh? There's been quite a movement down that way +lately, considering it never was anything but a pocket country. By +starting early you can make it through in a day. And you said your +name was—"</p> +<p>"Darby. Ben Darby."</p> +<p>The merchant opened his eyes. "Not the Ben Darby that took all +the prizes at the meet at Lodge Pole—"</p> +<p>Ben's rugged face lit with the brilliancy of his smile. "The +same Darby," he admitted.</p> +<p>"Well, well! I hope you'll excuse them remarks about abusing the +horses. If I had known who you was, 'Wolf' Darby, I'd have known +you knew how to take care of cayuses. Take 'em for as long as you +want, or where you want. And when did you say you was going?"</p> +<p>"First thing to-morrow."</p> +<p>"Well, you're pretty likely to have companionship on the road, +too. There is another party that is going up that way either +to-morrow or the day after. Pretty lucky for you."</p> +<p>"I'm glad of it, if he isn't a tenderfoot. That must be a pretty +thickly settled region—where I'm heading."</p> +<p>"On the contrary, there's only three human beings in the whole +district—and there's a thousand of square miles back of it +without even one. These three are some men that went up that way +prospecting some time ago, and this other party will make four." He +paused, smiling. "Yes, I think you will enjoy this trip to-morrow, +after you see who it is. I'd enjoy it, and I'm thirty years older +than you are."</p> +<p>Ben's thought was elsewhere, and he only half heard. "All +right—I'll be here before dawn to-morrow and get the horses. +And now will you tell me—where Steve Morris lives? I've got +some business with him."</p> +<p>"Right up the street—clear to the end of the row." +McClurg's humor had quite engulfed him by now, and he chuckled +again. "And if I was you, I'd stop in the door just this +side—and get acquainted with your fellow traveler."</p> +<p>"What's his name?" Ben asked.</p> +<p>"The party is named Neilson."</p> +<p>Unfortunately the name had no mental associations for Ben. It +wakened no interest or stirred no memories. He had read the letter +the copy of which he carried but once, and evidently the name of +the man Ezram had been warned against had made no lasting +impression on Ben's mind.</p> +<p>"All right. Maybe I'll look him up."</p> +<p>Ben turned, then made his way up the long, straggly row of +unpainted shacks that marked the village street. A few moments +later he was standing in the Morris home, facing the one friend +that Hiram Melville had possessed on earth.</p> +<p>Ben stated his case simply. He was the partner of Hiram's +brother, he said, and he had been designated to take care of Fenris +and such other belongings as Hiram had left. Morris studied his +face with the quiet, far-seeing eyes of a woodsman.</p> +<p>"You've got means of identification?" he asked.</p> +<p>Ben realized with something of a shock that he had none at all. +The letter he carried was merely a copy without Hiram's signature; +besides, he had no desire to reveal its contents. For an instant he +was considerably embarrassed. But Morris smiled quietly.</p> +<p>"I guess I won't ask you for any," he said. "Hiram didn't leave +anything, far as I know, except his old gun and his pet. Lord +knows, I'd let anybody take that pet of his that's fool enough to +say he's got any claim to him, and you can be sure I ain't going to +dispute his claim."</p> +<p>"Fenris, then, is,—something of a problem?"</p> +<p>"The worst I ever had. His old gun is a good enough weapon, but +I'm willing to trust you with it to get rid of Fenris. If you don't +turn out to be the right man, I'll dig up for the gun—and +feel lucky at that. I won't be able to furnish another Fenris, +though, and I guess nobody'll be sorry. And if I was you—I'd +take him out in a nice quiet place and shoot him."</p> +<p>He turned, with the intention of securing the gun from an inner +room. He did not even reach the door. It was as if both of them +were struck motionless, frozen in odd, fixed attitudes, by a shrill +scream for help that penetrated like a bullet the thin walls of the +house.</p> +<p>Instinctively both of them recognized it, unmistakably, as the +piercing cry of a woman in great distress and terror. It rose +surprisingly high, hovered a ghastly instant, and then was almost +drowned out and obliterated by another sound, such a sound as left +Ben only wondering and appalled.</p> +<p>The sound was in the range between a growl and a bay, instantly +identifying itself as the utterance of an animal, rather than a +human being. And it was savage and ferocious simply beyond power of +words to tell. Ben's first thought was of some enormous, vicious +dog, and yet his wood's sense told him that the utterance was not +that of a dog. Rather it contained that incredible fierceness and +savagery that marks the killing cries of the creatures of the +wild.</p> +<p>He heard it even as he leaped through the door in answer to the +scream for aid. His muscles gathered with that mysterious power +that had always sustained him in his moments of crisis. He took the +steps in one leap, Morris immediately behind him.</p> +<p>"Fenris is loose," he heard the man say. "He'll kill some +one----!"</p> +<p>Ben could still hear the savage cries of the animal, seemingly +from just behind the adjoining house. A girl's terrified voice +still called for help. And deeply appalled by the sounds, Ben +wished that the rifle, such a weapon as had been his trust since +early boyhood, was ready and loaded in his hands.</p> +<p>He raced about the house; and at once the scene, in every vivid +detail, was revealed to him. Pressed back against the wall of a +little woodshed that stood behind her house a girl stood at +bay,—a dark-eyed girl whose beautiful face was drawn and +stark-white with horror. She was screaming for aid, her fascinated +gaze held by a gray-black, houndlike creature that crouched, +snarling, twenty yards distant.</p> +<p>Evidently the creature was stealing toward her in stealthy +advance more like a stalking cat than a frenzied hound. Nor was +this creature a hound, in spite of the similarity of outline. Such +fearful, lurid surface-lights as all of them saw in its fierce eyes +are not characteristic of the soft, brown orbs of the dog, ancient +friend to man, but are ever the mark of the wild beast of the +forest. The fangs were bared, gleaming in foam, the hair stood +erect on the powerful shoulders; and instantly Ben recognized its +breed. It was a magnificent specimen of that huge, gaunt runner of +the forests, the Northern wolf. Evidently from the black shades of +his fur he was partly of the Siberian breed of wolves that +beforetime have migrated down on the North American side of Bering +Sea.</p> +<p>A chain was attached to the animal's collar, and this in turn to +a stake that had been freshly pulled from the ground. This beast +was Fenris,—the woods creature that old Hiram Melville had +raised from cubdom.</p> +<p>There could be no doubt as to the reality of the girl's peril. +The animal was insane with the hunting madness, and he was plainly +stalking her, just as his fierce mother might have stalked a fawn, +across the young grass. Already he was almost near enough to leap, +and the girl's young, strong body could be no defense against the +hundred and fifty pounds of wire sinew and lightning muscle that +constituted the wolf. The bared fangs need flash but once for such +game as this. And yet, after the first, startled glance, Ben Darby +felt himself complete master of the situation.</p> +<p>No man could tell him why. No fact of his life would have been +harder to explain, no impulse in all his days had had a more +inscrutable origin. The realization seemed to spring from some +cool, sequestered knowledge hidden deep in his spirit. He knew, in +one breathless instant, that he was the master—and that the +girl was safe.</p> +<p>He seemed to know, again, that he had found his ordained sphere. +He knew this breed,—this savage, blood-mad, fierce-eyed +creature that turned, snarling, at his approach. He had something +in common with the breed, knowing their blood-lusts and their +mighty moods; and dim, dreamlike memory reminded him that he had +mastered them in a long war that went down to the roots of time. +Fenris was only a fellow wilderness creature, a pack brother of the +dark forests, and he had no further cause for fear.</p> +<p>"Fenris!" he ordered sharply. "Come here!" His voice was +commanding and clear above the animal's snarls.</p> +<p>There followed a curious, long instant of utter silence and +infinite suspense. The girl's scream died on her lips: the wolf +stood tense, wholly motionless. Morris, who had drawn his knife and +had prepared to leap with magnificent daring upon the wolf, turned +with widening eyes, instinctively aware of impending miracle. Ben's +eyes met those of the wolf, commanding and unafraid.</p> +<p>"Down, Fenris," Ben said again. "Down!"</p> +<p>Then slowly, steadily, Ben moved toward him. Watching +unbelieving, Morris saw the fierce eyes begin to lose their fire. +The stiff hair on the shoulders fell into place, tense muscle +relaxed. He saw in wonder that the animal was trembling all +over.</p> +<p>Ben stood beside him now, his hand reaching. "Down, down," he +cautioned quietly. Suddenly the wolf crouched, cowering, at his +feet.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="X"></a> +<h2>X</h2> +<p>Ben straightened to find himself under a wondering scrutiny by +both Morris and the girl. "Good Lord, Darby!" the former exclaimed. +"How did you do it—"</p> +<p>Now that the suspense was over, Ben himself stood smiling, quite +at ease. "Can't say just how. I just felt that I could—I've +always been able to handle animals. He's tame, anyway."</p> +<p>"Tame, is he? You ought to have had to care for him the last few +weeks, and you'd think tame. Not once have I dared go in reach of +his rope. And there he is, crouched at your feet! I was always +dreading he'd get away—" Morris paused, evidently remembering +the girl. "Beatrice, are you hurt?"</p> +<p>The girl moved toward them. "No. He didn't touch me. But you +came just in time—" The girl's voice wavered; and Ben stepped +to her side. "I'm all right now—"</p> +<p>"But you'd better sit down," Ben advised quietly. "It was enough +to scare any one to death—"</p> +<p>"Any one—but you—" the girl replied, her voice still +unsteady. But she paused when she saw the warm color spread over +Ben's rugged, brown face. And his embarrassment was real. Naturally +shy and unassuming, such effusive praise as this always disturbed +him—just as it would have embarrassed any really masculine +man alive. Women, more extravagant in speech and loving flattery +with a higher ardor, would have found it hard to believe how really +distressed he was; but Morris, an outdoor man to the core, +understood completely. Besides, Ben knew that the praise was not +deserved. Excessive bravery had played no part in the scene of a +moment before. He had been brave just as far as Morris was brave, +leaping freely in response to a call for help: the same degree of +bravery that can be counted on in most men, over the face of the +earth. Bravery does not lie alone in facing danger: there must also +be the consciousness of danger, the conquest of fear. In this case +Ben had felt no fear. He knew with a sure, true knowledge that he +was master of the wolf. He knew the wolf's response to his words +before ever he spoke. And now all the words in the language could +not convey to these others whence that knowledge had come.</p> +<p>He vaguely realized that this had always been some way part of +his destiny,—the imposition of his will over the beasts of +the forest. He had never tried to puzzle out why, knowing that such +trial would be unavailing. He had instinctively understood such +creatures as these. To-day he felt that he knew the wild, fierce +heart beating in the lean breast as a man might know his brother's +heart. The bond between them was hidden from his sight, something +back of him, beyond him, enfolded within a secret self that was +mysterious as a dream, and it reached into the countless years; yet +it was real, an ancient relationship that was no less intimate +because it could not be named. In turn, the wolf had seemed to know +that this tall form was a born habitant of the forests, even as +himself, one that would kill him as unmercifully as he himself +would kill a fall, and whose dark eyes, swept with fire, and whose +cool, strong words must never be disobeyed.</p> +<p>"You never seen this wolf before?" Morris asked him, calling him +from his revery.</p> +<p>"Never."</p> +<p>"Then you must be old Hiram's brother himself, to control him +like you did. Lord, look at him. Crouching at your feet."</p> +<p>Suddenly Ben reached and took the wolf's head between his hands. +Slowly he lifted the savage face till their eyes met. The wolf +growled, then, whimpering, tried to avert its gaze. Then a rough +tongue lapped at the man's hand.</p> +<p>"There's nothing to be afraid of, now," he told the girl.</p> +<p>"He's right, Beatrice," Morris agreed. "He's tamed him. Even I +can see that much. And I never saw anything like it, since the day +I was born."</p> +<p>It was true: as far as Ben was concerned, the terrible +Fenris—named by a Swedish trapper, acquaintance of Hiram +Melville's, for the dreadful wolf of Scandinavian legend—was +tamed. He had found a new master; Ben had won a servant and friend +whose loyalty would never waver as long as blood flowed in his +veins and breath surged in his lungs. "Lay still, now, Fenris," he +ordered. "Don't get up till I tell you."</p> +<p>It seems to be true that as a rule the lower animals catch the +meaning of but few words; usually the tone of the voice and the +gesture that accompanies it interpret a spoken order in a dog's +brain. On this occasion, it was as if Fenris had read his master's +thought. He lay supine, his eyes intent on Ben's rugged face.</p> +<p>And now, for the first time, Ben found himself regarding +Beatrice. He could scarcely take his eyes from her face. He knew +perfectly that he was staring rudely, but he was without the power +to turn his eyes. Her dark eyes fell under his gaze.</p> +<p>The truth was that Ben's life had been singularly untouched by +the influence of women. Mostly his life had been spent in the +unpeopled forest, away from women of all kinds; and such creatures +as had admired him in Seattle's underworld had never got close to +him. He had had many dreams; but some way it had never been +credible to him that he should ever know womanhood as a source of +comradeship and happiness. Love and marriage had always seemed +infinitely apart from his wild, adventurous life.</p> +<p>In his days in prison he had given up all dream of this +happiness; but now he could begin to dream again. Everything was +changed now that he had come home. The girl's regard for him was +friendly, even somewhat admiring, and the speculations of ripening +womanhood were in her eyes. He returned her gaze with frankest +interest and admiration. His senses had been made sharp in his +wilderness life; and his respect for her grew apace. She was not +only innocent and girlish; she had those traits, innate, that a +strong man loves in women: such worth and depth of character as he +wishes bequeathed to his children.</p> +<p>Ben drew a long breath. It was good to be home. He had not only +found his forests, just as he had left them, but now again he was +among the forest people. This girl was of his own breed, not a +stranger; her standards were his; she was a woods girl no less than +he was a woodsman. It is good to be among one's own people, those +who can follow through and understand. She too knew the urge of +unbridled vitality and spirit, common to all the woods children; +and life's vivid meaning was her inheritance, no less than his. Her +arms and lips were warm from fast-flowing blood, her nerves were +vibrant and singing like his own. A virgin still, her eyes were +tender with the warmheartedness that is such a dominant trait of +frontier peoples; but what fire, what passion might burn in them +to-morrow! They were dark, lovely eyes, rather somber now in their +earnestness, seeming shadowed by the dark shadows of the spruce +themselves.</p> +<p>No human face had ever given him such an image of beauty as that +of this dark-eyed forest child before him. Yet she was not piquant, +demure, like the girls he had met in France; not stylish and +sophisticated like those of the great cities he had visited since +his return. Her garb became her: simple, not holding the eye in +itself but calling attention to the brunette beauty of her throat +and face, the warm redness of her childish mouth, and the brown, +warm color of her arms. She had dark, waving hair, lovely to touch, +wistful red lips. Because he was the woodsman, now and always, he +marked with pleasure that there was no indication of ill-health or +physical weakness about her. Her body was lithe and strong, with +the grace of the wild creatures.</p> +<p>It would be good to know her, and walk beside her in the tree +aisles. All manner of delectable possibilities occurred to him. But +all at once he checked his dreams with an iron will.</p> +<p>There must be no thought of women in his life—for now. He +still had his way to make. A few hours more would find him plunging +deeper into the forest, perhaps never to see her again. He felt an +all-pervading sense of regret.</p> +<p>"There's nothing I can say—to thank you," the girl was +murmuring. "I never saw anything like it; it was just as if the +wolf understood every word you said."</p> +<p>"Old Hiram had him pretty well trained, I suspect." The man's +eyes fell to the shaggy form at his feet. "I'm glad I happened +along Miss—"</p> +<p>"Miss Neilson," the girl prompted him. "Beatrice Neilson. I live +here."</p> +<p>Neilson! His mind seemed to leap and catch at the name. Just +that day he had heard it from the lips of the merchant. And this +was the house next door where dwelt his fellow traveler for the +morrow.</p> +<p>"Then it's your father—or brother—who's going to the +Yuga—"</p> +<p>"No," the girl answered doubtfully. "My father is already there. +I'm here alone—"</p> +<p>Then the gray eyes lighted and a smile broke about Ben's lips. +Few times in his life had he smiled in quite this vivid way.</p> +<p>"Then it's you," he exulted, "who is going to be my fellow +traveler to-morrow!"</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XI"></a> +<h2>XI</h2> +<p>Ben found, rather as he had expected, that the girl was not at +all embarrassed by the knowledge that they were to have a lonely +all-day ride together. She looked at the matter from a perfectly +natural and wholesome point of view, and she could see nothing in +it amiss or improper. The girls of the frontier rarely feel the +need of chaperones. Their womanhood comes early, and the open +places and the fresh-life-giving air they breathe give them a +healthy confidence in their ability to take care of themselves. +Beatrice had a pistol, and she could shoot it like a man. She loved +the solitude of the forest, but she also knew it was good to hear +the sound of a human voice when journeying the lonely trails.</p> +<p>The frontier had also taught her to judge men. Here foregathered +many types, strong-thewed frontiersmen whose reverence for women +surpassed, perhaps, that of any other class of men on earth, as +well as the most villainous renegades, brutish offspring of the +wilds, but she knew them apart. She realized from the first that +this tall woodsman would have only kindness and respect for her; +and that he was to be trusted even in those lonely forest depths +beyond Spruce Pass.</p> +<p>Ben knew the wild beasts of the field better than he knew women, +so her actual reception of the plan was lost to him. He felt that +she was not displeased: in reality the delight and anticipation she +felt were beyond any power of hers to tell. She had been +tremendously thrilled and impressed by his dominance over the wolf. +She liked his bright, steady, friendly eyes; because she was a +woods girl her heart leaped at the sight of his upright, powerful +body; but most of all she felt that he was very near indeed to an +ideal come true, a man of terrific strength and prowess yet not +without those traits that women love best in men,—courage and +character and gentleness.</p> +<p>"I'm surely glad I'm going to have a companion," he told her. "I +won't miss Ez—"</p> +<p>But just then remembrance came to him, cutting the word off +short. The letter he carried in his pocket contained certain advice +in regard to silence, and perhaps now was a good time to follow it. +There was no need to tell the people of Snowy Gulch about Ezram and +the claim. He remembered that he had been warned of the danger of +claim jumpers.</p> +<p>For an instant his mind seemed to hover at the edge of a more +elusive memory; but he could not quite seize upon it. He only knew +that it concerned the matter in hand, and that it left him vaguely +troubled.</p> +<p>"You were saying," the girl prompted him.</p> +<p>"Nothing very important—except how glad I am you are going +my way. The woods are certainly lonesome by yourself. I suppose +you'll be willing to make an early start."</p> +<p>"The earlier the better. I've got a long way to go."</p> +<p>They made their plans, and soon they parted to complete +preparations for the journey. The girl went into her house: Ben +took the rifle, and followed by the wolf, struck down the main +street of the village.</p> +<p>It can be said for Ben that he aroused no little conjecture and +interest in the minds of the townspeople, striding through the +street with the savage woods creature following abjectly at his +heels. Evidently Ben's conquest was complete: the animal obeyed his +every command as quickly as an intelligent dog. It was noticeable, +however, that even the hardiest citizens kept an apprehensive eye +on the wolf during the course of any conversation with Ben.</p> +<p>He bought supplies—flour and salt and a few other +essentials—simple tools and utensils such as are carried by +prospectors, blankets, shells for his rifle, and a few, simple, +hard-wearing clothes. He went to bed dead tired, his funds +materially reduced. But before dawn he was up, wholly refreshed; +and after a hasty breakfast went to pack his horses for the +trip.</p> +<p>Beatrice came stealing out of the shadows, more than ever +suggestive of some timid creature of the forest, and the three of +them saddled and packed the animals. As daylight broke they started +out, down the shadowed street of the little town.</p> +<p>"The last we'll see of civilization for a long, long time," the +girl reminded him.</p> +<p>The man thrilled deeply. "And I'm glad of it," he answered. +"Nothing ahead but the long trail!"</p> +<p>It was a long trail, that which they followed along Poor Man's +creek in the morning hours. The girl led, by right of having some +previous acquaintance with the trail. The three pack horses walked +in file between, heads low, tails whisking; and Ben, with Fenris at +his horse's hoofs, brought up the rear. Almost at once the spruce +forest dropped over them, the silence and the gloom that Ben had +known of old.</p> +<p>This was not like gliding in a boat down-river. The narrow, +winding trail offered a chance for the most intimate study of the +wilderness. From the river the woodsfolk were but an occasional +glimpse, the stir of a thicket on the bank: here they were living, +breathing realities,—vivid pictures perfectly framed by the +frosty green of the spruce.</p> +<p>From the first mile these two riders were the best of +companions. They talked gaily, their voices carrying to each other +with entire ease through the still glades. He found her spirited, +warm-hearted, responding with an eager gladness to every fresh +manifestation of the wild; and in spite of his gay laughter she +read something of the dark moodiness and intensity that were his +dominant traits. But he was kind, too. His attitude toward the +Little People met with on the trail—the little, scurrying +folk—was particularly appealing: like that of a strong man +toward children. She saw that he was sympathetic, instinctively +chivalrous; and she got past his barrier of reserve as few living +beings had ever done before.</p> +<p>She saw at once that he was an expert horseman. Riding a +half-broken mustang over the winding, brush-grown moose trails of +the North is not like cantering a thoroughbred along a park avenue, +and a certain amount of difficulty is the rule rather than the +exception; but he controlled his animal as no man of her +acquaintance had ever done. He rode a bay mare that was not, by a +long way, the most reliable piece of horseflesh McClurg owned, yet +she gave him the best she had in her, scrambling with a burst of +energy on the pitches, leaping the logs, battling the mires, and +obeying his every wish. The joy of the Northern trails depends +largely upon the service rendered by the horse between one's knees, +and Ben knew it to the full.</p> +<p>Before the first two hours were past Beatrice found herself +thrilling with admiration at Ben's woodcraft. Not only by +experience but by instinct and character he was wholly fitted for +life in the waste places. Just as some artists are born with the +soul of music, he had come to the earth with the Red Gods at his +beck and call; the spirit of the wild things seemed to move in his +being. She didn't wholly understand. She only knew that this man, +newly come from "The States," riding so straight and talking so +gaily behind her, had qualities native to the forest that were +lacking not only in her, but in such men as her father and Ray +Brent. Seemingly he had inherited straight from the youngest days +of the earth those traits by which aboriginal man conquered the +wild.</p> +<p>The first real manifestation of this truth occurred soon after +they reached the bank of Poor Man's creek. All at once he had +shouted at her and told her to stop her horse. She drew up and +turned in her saddle, questioning.</p> +<p>"There's something stirring in the thicket beside you. Don't you +hear him?"</p> +<p>Beatrice had sharp ears, but she strained in vain for the sound +that, forty feet farther distant, Ben heard easily. She shook her +head, firmly believing his imagination had led him astray. But an +instant later a coyote—one of those gray skulkers whose +waging cries at twilight every woodfarer knows—sprang out of +his covert and darted away.</p> +<p>Beatrice was amazed. The significance of the incident went +further than the fact of mere good hearing. The coyote, except when +he chooses to wail out his wrongs at the fall of night, is one of +the forest shadows for silence—yet Ben had heard him. It +meant nothing less than that strange quickening of the senses found +in but few—master woodsmen—that is the especial trait +and property of the beasts themselves.</p> +<p>Now that they climbed toward Spruce Pass their talk died away, +and more and more they yielded themselves to the hushed mood of the +forest. Their trail was no longer clearly pronounced. It was a +wilderness thoroughfare in the true sense,—a winding path +made by the feet of the great moose journeying from valley to +valley.</p> +<p>Wild life became ever more manifest. They saw the grouse, +Franklin's fowl so well beloved by tenderfeet because of their +propensity to sit still under fire and give an unsteady marksman a +second shot. Fool hens, the woodsman called them, and the motley +and mark of their weak mentality were a red badge near the eye. The +fat birds perched on the tree limbs over the trail, relying on +their mottled plumage, blending perfectly with the dull grays and +browns of the foliage, to keep them out of sight. But such wiles +did not deceive Ben. And once, in provision for their noon lunch, a +fat cock tumbled through the branches at Beatrice's pistol +shot.</p> +<p>The pine squirrels seemed to be having some sort of a +competitive field meet, and the tricks they did in the trees above +the trail filled the two riders with delight. They sped up and down +the trunks; they sprang from limb to limb; they flicked their tails +and turned their heads around backward and stood on their haunches, +all the time chattering in the greatest excitement. Once a +porcupine—stupid, inoffensive old Urson who carries his fort +around on his back—rattled his quills in a near-by thicket; +and once they caught a glimpse of a mule deer on the hillside. This +was rather too cold and hard a country, however, to be beloved by +deer. Mostly they dwelt farther upriver.</p> +<p>All manner of wild creatures, great and small, had left signs on +the trails. There were tracks of otter and mink, those two river +hunters whose skins, on ladies' shoulders, are better known than +the animals themselves. They might be only patches of fur in +cities, but they were living, breathing personages here. +Particularly they were personages to the trout. Ben knew perfectly +how the silver fish had learned to dart with such rapidity in the +water. They learned it keeping out of the way of the otter and the +mink.</p> +<p>They saw the tracks of marten—the mink that has gone into +the tree tops to live; the doglike imprints of a coyote at which +Fenris whimpered and scratched in excitement (doubtless wishing to +run him down and bite him, as is the usual reception to the +detested coyote by the more important woods creatures) and once the +fresh mud showed that an old grizzly—the forest monarch, the +ancient, savage despot of the woods of which all foresters, near +and far, speak with deep respect—had passed that way but a +few minutes before. Foresters both, the two riders had every reason +to believe that the old gray tyrant was lurking somewhere in the +thickets beside the trail, half in anger, half in curiosity +watching them ride past. And of course the tracks of moose, and of +their fellows of mighty antlers, the caribou, were in +profusion.</p> +<p>To all these things Beatrice responded with the joy of a true +nature lover. Her heart thrilled and her eyes were bright; and +every new track was a fresh surprise and delight. But Ben was +affected more deeply still. The response he made had its origin and +font in deeply hidden centers of his spirit; mysterious realms that +no introspection could reveal or words lay bare.</p> +<p>He knew nothing of Beatrice's sense of constant surprise. In his +own heart he had known that all these woodspeople would be waiting +for him—just as they were—and he would have known far +greater amazement to have found some of them gone. And instead of +sprightly delight he knew only an all-pervading sense of comfort, +as a man feels upon returning to his home country, among the people +whom he knows and understands.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XII"></a> +<h2>XII</h2> +<p>At the very headquarters of Poor Man's Creek, where the stream +had dwindled to a silver thread between mossy banks, Beatrice and +Ben made their noon camp. They were full in the heart of the wild, +by now, and had mounted to those high levels and park lands beloved +by the caribou. They built a small fire beside the stream and drew +water from the deep, clear pools that lay between cascade and +cascade.</p> +<p>Ben Darby slowly became aware that this was one of the happiest +hours of his life. He watched, with absorbed delight, the deft, +sure motions of the girl as she fried the grouse and sliced bread, +while Ben himself tended to the coffee. Already the two were on the +friendliest terms, and since they were to be somewhere in the same +region, the future offered the most pleasing vistas to both of +them. When the horses were rested and Ben's pipe was out, they +ventured on. Following a caribou trail, they ascended a majestic +range of mountains—a trail too steep to ride and which the +pack horses accomplished only with great difficulty—emerging +onto a high plateau of open parks and small clumps of the darkest +spruce. It was, of course, the most scenic part of the journey; and +the inclination to talk died speedily from the lips.</p> +<p>They rode in silence, watching. Both of them were sure that +words, no matter how beautiful and eloquent, could be only a +sacrilege. The very tone of the high ranges is that of silence vast +and eternal beyond scope of thought, and the only sounds that can +fittingly shatter that mighty breathlessness are the great, +calamitous phenomena of nature,—the thunder crashing in the +sky and the avalanche on the slope. The forests they had just left +were deeply silent, but the far hush had been alleviated by the +soft noises of wild creatures stirring about their occupations; +perhaps also by the feeling that the thickets were full of sound +pitched just too high or just too low for human ears to hear; but +even this relief was absent here. The high peaks stretched before +them, one after another, until they faded into the +horizon,—majestic, aloof, utterly and grandly silent.</p> +<p>The snow still lay deep over the plateau, packed to the +consistency of ice, and the marmots had not yet emerged to welcome +the spring with their shrill, joyous whistling. From their high +place they could see the hills spread out below them,—fold +after fold as of a great cloak, deeply green, seemingly infinite in +expanse, broken only by the blue glint of the Agnes lakes, like two +great twin sapphires hidden in the forest. But they couldn't make +out a single roof top of Snowy Gulch. The forest had already +claimed it utterly.</p> +<p>This was the caribou range; wherever they looked they saw the +tracks of the noble animals in the snow. Later they caught a +glimpse of the creatures themselves, a small herd of perhaps half a +dozen swinging along the snow in their indescribable pacing gait. +They were in fitting surroundings, their color inexpressibly vivid +against the snow, and Ben's heart warmed and thumped in his breast +at the sight.</p> +<p>But the trail descended at last into the great valley of the +Yuga. Mile after mile, it seemed to them, they went down, leaving +the snow, leaving the open glades, into the dark, still glens of +spruce. At last they paused on the river bank.</p> +<p>Ben was somewhat amazed at the size of the stream when it +emerged below the rapids. It was, at its present high stage, fully +one hundred and fifty yards across, such a stream as would bear the +traffic of commerce in any inhabited region. They turned down the +moose trail that followed its bank.</p> +<p>But it was not to be that this journey should hold only delight +for Ben. A half-mile down the river he suddenly made a most +momentous and disturbing discovery.</p> +<p>He had stopped his horse to reread the copy of Hiram Melville's +letter, intending to verify his course. In the shadow of the tall, +dark spruce—darkening ever as the light grew less—his +eye sped swiftly over it. His gaze came to rest upon a familiar +name.</p> +<p>"Look out for Jeff Neilson and his gang," the letter read. "They +seen some of my dust."</p> +<p>Neilson—no wonder Ben had been perplexed when Beatrice had +first spoken her name. No wonder it had sounded familiar. And the +hot beads moistened his brow when he conceived of all the dreadful +possibilities of that coincidence of names.</p> +<p>Yet because he was a woodsman of nature and instinct, blood and +birth, he retained the most rigid self-control. He made no +perceptible start. At first he did not glance at Beatrice. Slowly +he folded the letter and put it back into his pocket.</p> +<p>"I'm going all right," he announced. He urged his horse forward. +His perfect self-discipline had included his voice: it was deep, +but wholly casual and unshaken. "And how about you, Miss +Neilson?"</p> +<p>He pronounced her name distinctly, giving her every chance to +correct him in case he had misunderstood her. But there was no hope +here. "I'm going all right, I know."</p> +<p>"It seems to me we must be heading into about the same country," +Ben went on. "You see, Miss Neilson, I'm going to make my first +permanent camp somewhere along this still stretch; I've had inside +dope that there's big gold possibilities around here."</p> +<p>"It has never been a gold country except for pockets, some of +them remarkably rich," she told him doubtfully, evidently trying +not to discourage him. "But my father has come to the conclusion +that it's really worth prospecting. He's in this same country +now."</p> +<p>"I suppose I'll meet him—I'll likely meet him to-night +when I take you to the cabin on the river. You said his name +was—"</p> +<p>"Jeffery Neilson."</p> +<p>For all that he was prepared for it, the name was a straight-out +body blow to Ben. He had still dared to hope that this girl was of +no blood kin of the claim-jumper, Jeffery Neilson. The truth was +now only too plain. By the girl's own word he was operating in +Hiram Melville's district and unquestionably had already jumped the +claim. His daughter was joining him now, probably to keep house for +him; and for all that Ben knew, already possessing guilty knowledge +of her father's crime.</p> +<p>It was hard to hold the head erect, after that. Already he had +builded much on his friendship with this girl, only to find that +she was allied with the enemy camp. He saw in a flash how unlikely +it would be that Ezram and himself could drive the usurpers out: +the claim-jumper is a difficult problem, even when the original +discoverer is living and in possession, much more so when he is +silent in his grave.</p> +<p>Ben had known the breed since boyhood, and he hated them as he +hated coyotes and pack-rats. They lacked the manhood to brave the +unknown in pursuit of the golden fleece; they waited until after +years of grinding labor the strike was made and then pounced down +upon the claim like vultures on the dead. Ben was glad he had not +obeyed his impulse to tell the girl of his true reason for coming +to the Yuga. He knew now, with many foes against him, he could best +operate in the dark.</p> +<p>His thought flashed to Ezram. The recovery of the mine had been +the old man's fondest dream, the last hope of his declining years, +and this setback would go hard with him. The blow was ever so much +more cruel on Ezram's account than his own. Ben could picture his +downcast face, trying yet to smile; his sobered eyes that he would +try to keep bright. But there would be certain planning, when they +met again over their camp fire. And there were three of them allied +now. Fenris the wolf had come into his service.</p> +<p>He glanced back at the gray-black creature that followed at the +heels of his horse; and now, at twilight's graying, he saw that a +significant and startling change had come over him. He no longer +trotted easily behind them. He came stalking, almost as if in the +hunt, his ears pointing, his neck hairs bristling, and there were +the beginnings of curious, lurid lightnings in his eyes. There +could be but one answer. He had been swept away in the current of +madness that sweeps the forest at the fall of darkness: the age-old +intoxication of the wilderness night. The hunting hours were at +hand. The creatures of claw and fang were coming into their own. +Fenris was shivering all over with those dark wood's passions that +not even the wisest naturalist can fully understand.</p> +<p>The air was tingling and electric, just as Ben recalled it a +thousand nights. Everywhere the hunters were leaving their lairs +and starting forth; grasses moved and brush-clumps rustled; blood +was hot and savage eyes were shot with fire. The mink, with +unspeakable savagery, took the trail of a snow-shoe rabbit beside +the river-bed; a lynx with pale, green, luminous eyes began his +stalk of a tree squirrel, and various of Fenris' fellows—pack +brothers except for his own relations with men—sang a song +that was old when the mountains were new as they raced, black in +silhouette against the paling sky, along a snowy ridge.</p> +<p>Ben felt a quickening of his own senses, not knowing why. +<i>His</i> blood, too, spurted inordinately fast through his veins, +and his flesh seemed to creep and tingle. There could be no surer +proof of his legitimacy as a son of the wilderness. The passions +that maddened the first men, near to the beasts they hunted in +their ancient forests, returned in all their fullness. The dusk +deepened. The trail dimmed so that the eye had to strain to follow +it.</p> +<p>Complex and weird were the passions invoked to-night, but not +even to the gray wolf that is, beyond all other creatures, the +embodiment of the wilderness spirit, did there come such a madness, +such a dark and terrible lust, as that which cursed a certain +wayfarer beyond the next bend in the river. This was not one of the +forest people, neither the lynx, nor the hunting otter, nor even +the venerable grizzly with whom no one contests the trail. It was a +human being,—a man of youthful body and strong, deeply lined, +yet savage face.</p> +<p>A close observer would have noticed the faintest tremor and +shiver throughout his body. His eyes were very bright, vivid even +in the dying day. He was deeply lost in his own mood, seemingly +oblivious to the whole world about him. He carried a rifle in his +hands.</p> +<p>He was on his way to report to his chief; and just what would be +forthcoming he did not know. But if too much objection were raised +and affairs got to a crucial stage, he had nothing to fear. He had +learned a certain lesson—an avenue to triumph. It was strange +that he had never hit upon it before.</p> +<p>His blood was scalding hot, and he was swept by exultation. Not +for an instant had he hesitated, nor Would he ever hesitate again. +There was no one in the North of greater might than he! No one +could bend his will from now on. He had found the road to +triumph.</p> +<p>Ray Brent had discovered a new power within himself. Perhaps +even his chief, Jeffery Neilson, must yield before his new-found +strength.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XIII"></a> +<h2>XIII</h2> +<p>As twilight darkened to the full gloom of the forest night, Ben +and Beatrice rode to a lonely cabin on the Yuga River,—one +that had been built by Hiram Melville years past and was just at +the mouth of the little creek on which, less than a half-mile +distant, he had his claim. They had seen a lighted window from +afar, marking the end of Beatrice's hard day's ride.</p> +<p>"Of course you won't try to go on to-night?" she asked Ben. +"You'll stay at the cabin?"</p> +<p>"There likely won't be room for three," he answered. "But it's a +clear night. I can make a fire and sleep out."</p> +<p>It was true. The stars were emerging, faint points of light +through the darkening canopy of the sky; and to the East a silver +glint on the horizon forecast the rising moon.</p> +<p>They halted at last; and Beatrice saw her father's form, framed +in the doorway. She hastened into his arms: waiting in the darkness +Ben could not help but hear his welcome. Many things were doubtful; +but there could be no doubt of the love that Neilson bore his +daughter. The amused, half-teasing words with which he received her +did not in the least disguise it. "The joy and the light of his +life," Ben commented to himself. The gray old claim-jumper had this +to redeem him, at least.</p> +<p>"But why so many horses, Beatrice?" he asked. "You—brought +some one with you?"</p> +<p>Ben was not so far distant that he failed to discern the instant +change in Neilson's tone. It had a strained, almost an apprehensive +quality such as few men had ever heard in his voice before. Plainly +all visitors in this end of the mountains were regarded with +suspicion.</p> +<p>"He's a prospector—Mr. Darby," the girl replied. "Come +here, Ben—and be introduced." She turned toward her new-found +friend; and the latter walked near, into the light that streamed +over him from the doorway. "This is my father, Mr. Darby—Mr. +Neilson. Some one told him this was a good gold country."</p> +<p>Ben had already decided upon his course of action and had his +answer ready. He knew perfectly that it would only put Neilson on +his guard if he stated his true position; and besides, he wanted +word of Ezram. "I may have a wrong steer, Mr. Neilson," he said, +"but a man I met down on the river-trail, out of Snowy Gulch, +advised me to come here. He said that he had some sort of a claim +up here that his brother left him, and though it was a pocket +country, he thought there'd soon be a great rush up this way."</p> +<p>"I hardly know who it could have been that you met," Neilson +began doubtfully. "He didn't tell you his name—"</p> +<p>"Melville. I believe that was it. And if you'll tell me how to +find him, I'll try to go on to-night. I brought him some of his +belongings from Snowy Gulch—"</p> +<p>"Melville, eh? I guess I know who you mean now. But no—I +don't know of any claim unless it's over east, beyond here. Maybe +further down the river."</p> +<p>Ben made no reply at once; but his mind sped like lightning. Of +course Neilson was lying about the claim: he knew perfectly that at +that moment he was occupying one of Hiram Melville's cabins. He was +a first-class actor, too—his voice indicating scarcely no +acquaintance with or interest in the name.</p> +<p>"He hasn't come up this way?" Ben asked casually.</p> +<p>"He hasn't come through here that I know of. Of course I'm +working at my claim—with my partners—and he might have +gone through without our seeing him. It seems rather unlikely."</p> +<p>Ben was really puzzled now. If Ezram had already made his +presence known and was camping somewhere in the hills about, there +was no reason immediately evident why Neilson should deny his +presence. Ben found himself wondering whether by any chance Ezram +had been delayed along the trail, perhaps had even lost his way, +and had not yet put in an appearance.</p> +<p>"He told me, in the few minutes that I talked to him, that his +cabin was somewhere close to this one—I thought he said up +this creek."</p> +<p>"There is a cabin up the creek a way," Neilson admitted, "but it +isn't the one he meant. It's on my claim, and my two partners are +living in it. But when he said near to this one, he might have +meant ten miles. That's the way we Northern men speak of +distance."</p> +<p>There was nothing more to say, nothing to do at present. He said +his farewells to the girl, refused an invitation to pass the night +in the cabin, and made his way to the green bank of the stream. +Four hundred yards from the cabin, and perhaps a like number from +the cabin of Ray and Charley—obscured from both by the +thickets—he pitched his camp.</p> +<p>In the cabin he had left Jeffery Neilson catechized his +daughter, trying to learn all he could concerning Ben. It was true +that he carried the dead Hiram's rifle, and that the latter's pet +wolf followed at his heels, but it was wholly probable that the old +man, Hiram's brother, with whom he had conversed at the river, had +designated him to get them. He had been courteous and respectful +throughout the journey to the Yuga, Beatrice said, and he had also +saved her from possible death in the fangs of the wolf the evening +previous. Neilson decided that he would take no steps at present +but merely wait and watch developments.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Ben had made his fire and unpacked his horses. He +confined his riding horse with a picket rope; the others he turned +loose. Then he cooked a simple meal for himself and the gaunt +servant at his heels.</p> +<p>When the night had come down in full, and as he sat about the +glowing coals of his supper fire, he had time to devote serious +thought to the fate of Ezram. It occurred to him that perhaps the +old man had discovered, at a distance, the presence of the +claim-jumpers; and was merely waiting in the thickets for a chance +to take action. If such were the case, sooner or later they could +join their fortunes again. It was also easy to imagine that Ezram +had lost his way on the journey out.</p> +<p>He stood at the edge of the firelight, gazing out into the +darkened forest. The wolf crouched beside him: alert, watching his +face for any command. It was wholly plain that the gaunt woods +creature had accepted him at once as his master; and that the bond +between them, because of some secret similarity of spirit, was +already far closer than between most masters and their pets.</p> +<p>Ben sensed another side of the forest to-night because of his +inborn love of the waste places not often seen. The thickets were +menacing, sinister to-night. The spruce crept up to the skyline +with darkness and mystery: he realized the eternal malevolence that +haunts their silent fastnesses. They would have tricks in plenty to +play on such as would lose their way on their dusky trails! Oh, +they would have no mercy or remorse for any one who was lost, +<i>out there</i>, to-night! Ben felt a heavy burden of dread!</p> +<p>Even now, old Ezram might be wandering, vainly, through the +gloomy, whispering woods, ever penetrating farther into their +merciless solitudes. And no homes smoked in the clearings, no camps +glowed in the immensity of the dark—out there. This was just +the beginning of the forest; clear into the shadow of the Arctic +Circle, where the woodlands gave way to the Weary wastes of +barrens, there was no break, no tilled fields or fisher's villages, +only an occasional Indian encampment which not even a wolf, running +through the night, might find. His supply of food would quickly be +exhausted, fatigue would break his valiant spirit. Ben planned an +extensive search for his tracks as soon as the morning light +permitted him to see.</p> +<p>He missed the old man's comradeship with a deep and fervid +longing. They had come to count on each other, these past weeks. It +wasn't alone infinite gratitude that he felt for him now. The thing +went too deep to tell. Yet there was no use seeking for him +to-night.</p> +<p>He turned to the wolf and dropped his hand upon the animal's +shoulder. Fenris started, then quivered in ecstasy. "I wish I had +your nose, to-night, old boy," Ben told him. "I'd find that old +buddy of mine. I wish I had your eyes to see in the dark, and your +legs to run. Fenris, do you know where he is?"</p> +<p>The wolf turned his wild eyes toward his master's face, as if he +were trying to understand.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XIV"></a> +<h2>XIV</h2> +<p>Impelled by an urge within himself Ben suddenly knelt beside his +lupine friend. He could not understand the flood of emotion, the +vague sense of impending and dramatic events that stirred him to +the quick. He only knew, with a knowledge akin to inspiration, that +in Fenris lay the answer to his problem.</p> +<p>The moment was misted over with a quality of unreality. In the +east rose the moon, shining incredibly on the tree tops, showering +down through the little rifts in the withholding branches, +enchanting the place as by the weaving of a dream. The moon madness +caught up Ben like a flame, enthralling him as never before. He +knew that white sphere of old. And all at once he realized that +here, at his knees, was one who knew it too,—with a knowledge +as ancient and as infinite as his own. Not for nothing had the wolf +breed lived their lives beneath it through the long roll of the +ages. Its rising and its setting had regulated the hunting hours of +the pack time without end; its beams had lighted the game trails +where the gray band had bayed after the deer; its light had beheld, +since the world was young, the rapturous mating of the old pack +leader and his female. Fenris too knew the moon-madness; but unlike +Ben he had a means of expression of the wonder and mystery and +vague longing that thrilled his wild heart. No man who has heard +the pack song to the moon could doubt this fact. It is a long, +melancholy wail, poignant with the pain of living, but it tells +what man can not.</p> +<p>Ben knew, now, why he was a forester, a woodsman famed even +among woodsmen. Most of his fellows had been tamed by civilization; +they had lived beneath roofs instead of the canopy of heaven, and +they had almost forgotten about the moon. Ben, on the other hand, +was a recurrence of an earlier type, inheriting little from his +immediate ancestors but reverting back a thousand centuries to the +Cave and the Squatting Place. His nature was that of prehistoric +man rather than that of the son of civilization; and in this lay +the explanation for all that had set him apart from the great run +of men and had made him the master woodsman that he was. And +because his spirit was of the wildwood, because he also knew the +magic of the moon, he was able to make this wildwood thing at his +feet understand and obey his will.</p> +<p>The world of to-day seemed to fade out for him and left only the +wolf, its fierce eyes on his own. Time swung back, and this might +have been a scene of forgotten ages,—the wolf, the human +hunter, the smoldering camp fire, the dark, jagged line of spruce +against the sky. It was thus at the edge of the ice. Wolf and +man—both children of the wild—had understood each other +then; and they could understand each other now.</p> +<p>"Fenris, old boy," the man whispered. "Can you find him for me, +Fenris? He's out there somewhere—" the man motioned toward +the dark—"and I want him. Can you take me to him?"</p> +<p>The wolf trembled all over, struggling to get his meaning. This +was no creature of subordinate intelligence: the great wolf of the +North. He had, besides the cunning of the wild hunters, the +intelligence that is the trait of the whole canine breed. Nor did +he depend on his sense of hearing alone. He watched his master's +face, and more than that, he was tuned and keyed to those +mysterious vibrations that carry a message from brain to brain no +less clearly and swift than words themselves,—the secret +wireless of the wild.</p> +<p>"He's my buddy, old boy, and I want you to find him for me," Ben +went on, more patiently. He searched his pockets, drawing out at +last the copy of the letter Ezram had given him that morning, and, +because the old man had carried it for many days, it could still +convey a message to the keen nose of the wolf. He put it to the +animal's nostrils, then pointed away into the darkness.</p> +<p>Fenris followed the motion with his eyes; and presently his long +body stiffened. Ben watched him, fascinated. Then the wolf sniffed +at the paper again and trotted away into the night.</p> +<p>In one leap Ben was on his feet, following him. The wolf turned +once, saw that his master was at his heels, and sped on. They +turned up a slight draw, toward the hillside.</p> +<p>It became clear at once that Fenris was depending upon his +marvelous sense of smell. His nose would lower to the ground, and +sometimes he tacked back and forth, uncertainly. At such times Ben +watched him with bated breath. But always he caught the scent +again.</p> +<p>Once more he paused, sniffing eagerly; then turned, whining. +Just as clearly as if they had possessed a mutual language Ben +understood: the animal had caught the clear scent at last. The wolf +loped off, and his fierce bay rang through the hushed forest.</p> +<p>It was a long-drawn, triumphant note; and the wild creatures +paused in their mysterious, hushed occupations to listen. It was +also significant that it made certain deadly inroads in the spirit +of Ray Brent, sitting in his distant cabin. He marked the direction +of the sound, and he cursed, half in awe, under his breath. He had +always hated the gray rangers. They were the uncanny demons of the +forest.</p> +<p>Ben followed the running wolf as fast as he could; and in his +eagerness he had no opportunity for conjecture as to what he would +find at the end of the pursuit. Yet he did not believe for an +instant this was a false trail. The wolf's deep, full-ringing bays +were ever more urgent and excited, filling the forest with their +uproar. But quite suddenly the silence closed down again, seemingly +more deep and mysterious than ever.</p> +<p>Ben's first sensation was one of icy terror that crept to the +very marrow of his bones. He knew instantly that there was a +meaning of dreadful portent in the abrupt cessation of the cries. +He halted an instant, listening, but at first could hear no more +than the throb of his heart in his breast and the whisper of his +own troubled breathing. But presently, at a distance of one hundred +yards, he distinguished the soft whining of the wolf.</p> +<p>Fenris was no longer running! He had halted at the edge of a +distant thicket. The cold sweat sprang out on Ben's forehead, and +he broke into a headlong run.</p> +<p>There was no later remembrance of traversing that last hundred +yards. The hillside seemed to whip under his feet. He paused at +last, just at the dark margin of an impenetrable thicket. The wolf +whined disconsolately just beyond the range of his vision.</p> +<p>"Ezram!" he called, a curious throbbing quality in his voice. +"Are you there, Ez? It's me—Ben."</p> +<p>But the thickets neither rustled nor spoke. The cracked old +voice he had learned to love did not speak in relief, in that +moment of unutterable suspense. Indeed, the silence seemed to +deepen about him. The spruce trees were hushed and impassive as +ever; the moon shone and the wind breathed softly in his face. +Fenris came whimpering toward him.</p> +<p>Together, the man and the wolf, they crept on into the thicket. +They halted at last before a curious shadow in the silvered covert. +Ben knew at once he had found his ancient comrade.</p> +<p>He and Ezram had had their last laugh together. He lay very +still, the moonlight ensilvering his droll, kindly +face,—sleeping so deeply that no human voice could ever waken +him. An ugly rifle wound yawned darkly at his temple.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XV"></a> +<h2>XV</h2> +<p>The first effect of a great shock is usually a semi-paralysis of +the entire mental mechanism and is, as a rule, beneficent. The +brain seems to be enclosed in a great preoccupation, like a wall, +and the messages of pain and horror brought by the nerves batter +against it in vain. The senses are dulled, the perceptions blunted, +and full realization does not come.</p> +<p>For a long time, in which time itself stood still, Ben sat +beside the dead body of his old counselor and friend as a child +might sit among flowers. He half leaned forward, his arms limp, his +hands resting in his lap, a deep wonder and bewilderment in his +eyes. Dully he watched the moon lifting in the sky and felt the +caress of the wind against his face, glancing only from time to +time at the huddled body before him. The wolf whined softly, and +sometimes Ben reached his hand to caress the furry shoulder.</p> +<p>But slowly his wandering faculties returned to him. He began to +understand. Ezram was dead—that was it—gone from his +life as smoke goes in the air. Never to hear him again, or see him, +or make plans with him, or have high adventures beside him along +the lonely trails. Fenris had found him in the darkness: here he +lay—the old family friend, the man who had saved him, +redeemed him and given him his chance, his old "buddy" who had +brought him home. The thing was not credible at first: that here, +dead as a stone, lay the shell of that life that had been his own +salvation. He studied intently the gray face, missed its habitual +smile and for really the first time his gaze rested upon the +yawning wound in the temple.</p> +<p>He gazed at it in speechless, growing horror, and something like +an incredible cold descended upon him. The entire hydraulic system +of his blood seemed to be freezing. His hands were cold, his vitals +icy and lifeless. There was, however, the beginning of heat +somewhere back of his eyes. He could feel it but dimly, but it was +increasing, slowly, like a smoldering coal that eats its way into +wood and soon will burst into a flame. Slowly he began to grow +rigid, his muscles flexing. His face underwent a tangible change. +The lines deepened, the lips set in a hard line, the eyes were like +those of a reptile,—cold, passionless, unutterably terrible. +His face was pale like the paleness of death, but it appeared more +like hard, white metal than flesh. His mind began to work clear +again; he began to understand.</p> +<p>Ezram had been shot, murdered by the men who had jumped his +claim. Beatrice's father, who had talked to him, had probably +committed the crime: if not he, one of his understrappers at his +order. He found himself recalling what Jeffery Neilson had said. +Oh, the man had been sharp! Believing that in the depth of the +forest the body would never be discovered, he had tried to send Ben +farther into the interior in search of him.</p> +<p>He arose, wholly self-mastered, and with hard, strong hands made +a detailed examination of Ezram's wound. He had evidently been shot +by a rifle of large caliber, probably at close range. Ezram's own +gun lay at his feet, loaded but not cocked.</p> +<p>"They shot you down in cold blood, old boy, didn't they?" he +found himself asking. "You didn't have a chance!"</p> +<p>But the gray lips were setting with death, and could not answer. +Ben had forgotten for the instant; he must keep better hold of +himself. The time was not ripe to turn himself loose. But he did +wish for one more word with Ezram, just a few little minutes of +planning. They could doubtless work out something good together. +They could decide what to do.</p> +<p>From this point his mind naturally fell to Ezram's parting +advice to him. "I've only got one decent place to keep things safe, +and that ain't so all-fired decent," the old man had told him. "I +always put 'em down my bootleg, between the sock and the leather. +If I ever get shuffled off, all of a sudden, I want you to look +there careful."</p> +<p>Still with the same deathly pallor he crept over the dead leaves +to Ezram's feet. His hands were perfectly steady as he unlooped the +laces, one after another, and quietly pulled off the right boot. In +the boot leg, just as Ezram had promised, Ben found a scrap of +white paper.</p> +<p>He spread it on his knee, and unfolded it with care. The +moonlight was not sufficiently vivid, however, for him to read the +penciled scrawl. He felt in his pocket for a match.</p> +<p>Because his mind was operating clear and sure, his thoughts +flashed at once to his enemies in their cabins along the creek. He +did not want them to know he had found the body. His first instinct +was to work in the dark, to achieve his ends by stealth and +cunning! It was strange what capacity for cunning had come upon +him. Oh, he would be crafty—sharp—sure in every +motion.</p> +<p>It was unlikely, however, that the faint glare of a match could +carry so far. To make sure he walked behind the covert, then turned +his back to the canyon through which the creek flowed. The match +cracked, inordinately loud in the silence, and his eyes followed +the script. Ezram had been faithful to the last:</p> +<div class="ltr"> +<p>To WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:</p> +<p>In case of my death I leave all I die possessed of including my +brother Hiram's claim near Yuga River to my pard and buddy, Ben +Darby.</p> +<p>(Signed) EZRA MELVILLE.</p> +</div> +<p>The document was as formal as Ezram could make it, with a +carefully drawn seal, and for all its quaint wording, it was a will +to stand in any court. But Ezram had not been able to hold his +dignity for long. He had added a postscript:</p> +<div class="ltr"> +<p>Son, old Hiram made a will, and I guess I can make one too. I +just found out about them devils that jumped our claim. I left you +back there at the river because I didn't want you taking any dam +fool risks till I found out how things lay.</p> +<p>I just got one thing to ask. If them devils get me—get +them. My life ain't worth much but I want you to make them pay for +the little it is worth. Never stop till you've done it.</p> +</div> +<p>Ben lighted match after match until he had absorbed every word. +Then he folded the paper and placed it in his pocket; but the +action did not in the least take his eyes from the words. He could +still see them, written in fire. They were branded on his +spirit.</p> +<p>He stood wholly motionless for a space of almost a minute, as if +listening. The heat back of his eyes was more intense now. The red +coals were about to burst into flame. All the blood of his huge +body seemed to be collecting there, searing his brain.</p> +<p>The moon was no longer white in the sky. It had turned a fiery +red. The stars were red too,—all of them more red than the +Star of War. "I want you to make them pay," a voice said clearly in +his ears. "Never stop till you've done it."</p> +<p>And now Ben was no longer pale. His face was no longer hard and +set. Rather it was dark—dark as dark earth. His eyes glowed +like coals beneath his black brows. He was not standing still and +lifeless now. He was shivering all over with the blackest hate, the +most deadly fury.</p> +<p>"Make them pay," he said aloud again, "and never stop till +you've done it."</p> +<p>A sudden snarl from the lips of the wolf drew his eyes downward. +Heaven help him; for the moment he had forgotten Fenris! But he +must not forget him again. They had work to do, the two of +them.</p> +<p>Fenris was no longer whining disconsolately. His master's fury +had passed to him, and Ben looked and saw before him not the docile +pet, but the savage beast of the wild. The hair was erect on his +shoulders, his lips were drawn, too; he was crouched as if for +battle. The eyes, sunken in their sockets, were red and terrible to +see. Yet he was still Ben's servant. That quality could never pass +from him. The eyes of two met,—the wolf and the man.</p> +<p>At that instant the little tongue of flame that had been +mounting in Ben's brain burst into a dreadful conflagration. It was +the explosion at last, no less terrible because of its +silence—because the sound of the least, little wind was still +discernible in the distant thickets. He dropped to his knees before +the wolf, seizing its head in a terrific grasp. He half jerked it +off its feet, till he held it so that its eyes burned straight into +his.</p> +<p>"Fenris, Fenris!" he breathed. "We've got to make them pay. And +we must not stop till we're done."</p> +<p>It was more than a command. It had the quality of a vow. And +now, as they knelt, eyes looking into eyes, it was like a pagan +rite in the ancient world.</p> +<p>Their separate identities were no longer greatly pronounced. +They were not man and beast, they were simply the wolves of the +forest. The old qualities most often associated with +manhood—gentleness, forbearance, mercy—seemed to pass +away from Ben as a light passes into darkness. Only the Wolf was +left, the dominant Beast—that darker, hidden side of himself +from which no man can wholly escape and which civilization has only +smothered, as fresh fuel smothers a flame. Not for nothing had his +fellows known him as "Wolf" Darby; and now the name was true.</p> +<p>The Beast that dwells under every man's skin, in a greater or +less degree, was in the full ascendancy at last. The unnamable +ferocity that marks the death-leap of the wild hunters was in his +face. In his eyes was cunning,—such craft as marks the pack +in its hunting. All over him was written that unearthly rage that +is alone the property and trait of the woods creatures: the fury +with which a she-wolf fights for her cubs or a rattlesnake avenges +the death of its mate. Mercy, remorse, compassion there was +none.</p> +<p>And the demon gods of the wilderness rejoiced. For uncounted +thousands of years the tide of battle had flowed against them; and +it was long and long since they had won such a victory as this. +Mostly their men children had forsaken their leafy bowers to live +in houses. They tilled the ground rather than hunt in the forest. +The cattle that had once run wild in the marshes now fed dully in +enclosed pastures; the horses—that mighty breed that once +mated and fought and died in freedom on the high lands—pulled +lowly burdens in the cultivated fields. Even some of the canine +people too—first cousins to the wolves themselves—had +sold themselves into slavery for a gnawed bone and a chimney +corner. But to-night the wild had claimed its own again.</p> +<p>Here was one, at least, who had come back into his own. The +forest seemed to whisper and thrill with rapture.</p> +<a name="PART_TWO"></a> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<h2>PART TWO</h2> +<h3>THE WOLF-MAN</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XVI"></a> +<h2>XVI</h2> +<p>As a wolf might plan a hunt in the forest, Ben planned his war +against Neilson and his subordinates. He knew perfectly that he +must not attempt open warfare. The way of the wolf is the way of +cunning and stealth: the stalk through the thicket and the +ferocious attack upon the unsuspecting; and such example must guide +Ben in his operations. He could not be too careful, too +furtive.</p> +<p>His foes were three against one, and they were on their own +ground. They knew the trails and the lay of the country; and as +always, in the science of warfare, this was an advantage hardly to +be overcome. Ben knew that his only hope lay in the finest +strategy. First he must make a surprise attack, and second, he must +utilize all natural advantages.</p> +<p>He was well aware that he could lie in ambush, close to the +mine, and probably send one man to a speedy death with a rifle +bullet. But he did not have one enemy; he had three. The survivors +of the first shot would immediately seek shelter—probably +returning shot for shot—and that would insert an element of +uncertainty into the venture. At the distance he would be obliged +to shoot, he would possibly only succeed in wounding one of his +enemies, and he might miss him altogether. Such a plan as this was +wholly too uncertain for adoption.</p> +<p>There must be no sporting chances in his strategy. The way of +the wolf is to cover every opening, to prepare for every +contingency that his brute mind can foresee. He would give and +receive no quarter, and the ancient fairness and honor must be +likewise forgotten. He must take no risk with his own life until +the last of the three was down. What happened thereafter did not +greatly concern him. The world could shatter to atoms after that +for all he would care. He was a son of forest solitude; and he had +but one dream left in life.</p> +<p>It was not his aim to give his foes the least chance to fight +back, the slightest hope of battle. He would use any advantage, +descend to any wile. This was not to be a sportsmen's war, but a +grim battle to the death, inexorable and merciless.</p> +<p>These things were all fully known to him before ever he left the +hillside, and like a man asleep, walked down to his camp. The fire +had burned down to coals—sullen and angry—but he heaped +on fuel, and they broke into a blaze. Then, Fenris at his side, he +squatted on the ground beside the dancing flame.</p> +<p>He watched it, fascinated; mostly silent but sometimes muttering +and whispering half-enunciated words. His red eyes and the black +hair, matted about his lips and shadowing the backs of his hands, +gave him a wild, fierce look; and it was as if the primal +blood-lust and hatred that seared him had literally swept him back +into the forgotten centuries,—the first, savage human hunter +at the edge of the retreating glaciers. The scene had not changed: +dark spruce and the red glow of fire; and there was atavism in his +very posture. The first men had squatted beside their camp fires +this same way, their wolfine pets beside them, as they made their +battle plans.</p> +<p>The eager flames held Ben's fascinated gaze as a crystal ball +might hold the eyes of a seer. They seemed to have a message for +him if he could just grasp it, a course whereby he might achieve +success. Oh, they could be cruel, relentless—mercilessly +eating their way into sensitive flesh. They were no respecters of +persons, these creeping, leaping tongues. Nor must <i>he</i> have +any scruples or qualms as to how he gained his ends. He too must be +merciless, and if necessary, strike down the innocent in order to +reach the guilty.</p> +<p>As he watched certain knowledge reached him of life and death. +The conclusion slowly came to him that just blind killing was not +enough. For all he knew death might bring instant +forgetfulness—and thus not constitute in itself a +satisfactory measure of vengeance. The <i>fear</i> of death was a +reality and a torment: for all he knew, the thing itself might be a +change for the better. It might be that, suddenly hurled out of +this world of three dimensions, his enemies would have no knowledge +nor carry no memories of the hand that struck them down. There +could be no satisfaction in this. To murder from ambush might be a +measure of expedience, but never one of self-gratification. When +Ben struck he wanted them to know who was their enemy, and for what +crime they were laid low.</p> +<p>The best way of all, of course, was to strike indirectly at +them, perhaps through some one they loved. Soon, perhaps, he would +see the way.</p> +<p>He went to his blankets, but sleep did not come to him. The wolf +stood on guard. Beatrice Neilson had fallen into happy dreams long +since, but there was further wakefulness in Hiram Melville's newer +cabin, farther up-creek. Ray Brent and Chan Heminway still sat over +their cups, the fiery liquid running riot in their veins, but +slumber did not come easily to-night. And when Beatrice was asleep, +Neilson stole down the moonlit moose trail and joined his men.</p> +<p>"I've brought news," he began, when the door had closed out the +stars and the breath of the night. Chan, his small eyes glazed from +strong drink, staggered to his feet to offer his chair to his +chief. Brent, however, was in no mood for servility to-night. He +had done man's work in the early evening; and his triumph and his +new-found sense of power had not yet died in his body. Perhaps he +had learned the way to all success. There was a curious sullen +defiance in the blearing gaze over his glass.</p> +<p>"What's your news?" Ray's voice harshened, possessing a certain +quality of grim levity. "I guess old Hiram's brother hasn't come to +life again, has he?"</p> +<p>It was a significant thing that both Chan and Neilson looked +oppressed and uneasy at the words. Like all men of low moral status +they were secretly superstitious, and these boasting words crept +unpleasantly under their skins. It is never a good thing to taunt +the dead! Ray had spoken sheerly to frighten and shock them, thus +revealing his own fearlessness and strength; yet his voice rang +louder than he had meant. He had no desire for it to carry into the +silver mystery of the night.</p> +<p>"The less you say about Hiram's brother the better," Neilson +answered sternly. "We've thrashed it out once to-night." He +straightened as he read the insolence, the gathering +insubordination in the other's contemptuous glance; and his voice +lacked its old ring of power when he spoke again. "Jumpin' claims +is one thing and murder is another."</p> +<p>Ray, spurred on by the false strength of wickedness, drunk with +his new sense of power, was already feeling the first surge of +deadly anger in his veins. "I suppose if you had been doin' it, +you'd let that old whelp take back this claim, worth a quarter +million if it's worth a cent. Not if I know it. It was the only +way—and the safe way too."</p> +<p>"Safe! What if by a thousandth chance some one would blunder on +to that body you left in the brush? What if some sergeant of +mounted police would say to his man, 'Go get Ray Brent!' Where +would you be then? You've always been a murderer at heart, +Brent—but some time you'll slip up—"</p> +<p>"Only a fool slips up. Don't think I didn't figure on +everything. As you say, there's not one chance in a thousand any +one will ever find him. If they do, there wouldn't be any kind of a +case. Likely the old man hasn't got a friend or relation on earth. +I've searched his pockets—there's nothing to tell who he is. +We'll have our claim recorded soon, and it would be easy to make +him out the claim-jumper rather than us—"</p> +<p>"Wait just a minute before you say he ain't got any friends, or +at least acquaintances. That's what I came to see you about +to-night." Neilson paused, for the sake of suspense. "Beatrice came +up to-night, as agreed, and she had a prospector with her—and +he knew old Hiram's brother."</p> +<p>A short, tense silence followed his words, and Ray stared into +his cup. It might be that just for an instant the reckless light +went out of his eyes and left them startled and glazing. Then he +got to his feet. "Then God Almighty!" he cried. "What you waiting +for? Why don't you croak him off before this night's over?"</p> +<p>"Wait, you fool, till you've heard everything," Neilson replied. +"There's no hurry about killing. As I told you, the less work of +that kind we do, the more chance we've got of dying in our beds. It +may be reasonable for one prospector to disappear, but some one's +going to be suspicious if two of 'em do. I think I've already +handled the matter."</p> +<p>"I'd handle it, and quick too," Ray protested.</p> +<p>"You'd handle yourself up a gallows, too. He doesn't seem to be +a close friend of this old man; he just seems to have met up with +him at the river, and the old man steered him up here. He asked me +where the old man's claim was, and said he wanted to go over and +see him. He was taking Hiram's wolf and his gun up to him. I told +him I hadn't heard of the claim, that it must be farther inside, +and I think I put it over. He ain't got the least suspicion. What +he'll do is hang around here a while, I suppose, +prospecting—and likely enough soon forget all about the old +devil. I just came down here to tell you he was here and to watch +your step."</p> +<p>"Then the first thing up," Chan Heminway suggested, "is to bury +the stiff."</p> +<p>"Spoke up like a fool!" Ray answered. "Not till this man is dead +or out of the country. It's well hidden, and don't go prowling +anywheres near it. If he's the least bit suspicious, or even if +he's on the lookout for gold, he'd likely enough follow you. But +there's one thing we can do—and that quick."</p> +<p>"And what's that?"</p> +<p>"Start Chan off to-morrow to the office in Bradleyburg and +record this claim in our names. We've waited too long already."</p> +<p>"Ray, you're talking like a man now," Neilson agreed. "You and I +stay here and work away, innocent as can be, on the claim. Chan, +put that bottle away and get to bed. Take the trail down first +thing to-morrow. Then we can laugh at all the prospectors that want +to come."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XVII"></a> +<h2>XVII</h2> +<p>Soon after the break of dawn Ben put his pick and shovel on his +shoulder, and leisurely walked up the creek past Ray's cabin. Since +Chan Heminway had already departed down the long trail to +Bradleyburg—a town situated nearly forty miles from Snowy +Gulch—Ray alone saw him pass; and he eyed him with some +apprehension. Daylight had brought a more vivid consciousness of +his last night's crime; and a little of his bravado had departed +from him. He moved closer to his rifle.</p> +<p>Yet in a moment his suspicions were allayed. Ben was evidently a +prospector, just as he claimed to be, and was venturing forth to +get his first "lay of the land." The latter continued up the draw, +crossed a ridge, halted now and then in the manner of the wild +creatures to see if he were being followed, and finally by a +roundabout route returned to the lifeless form of his only friend. +The wolf still trotted in silence behind him.</p> +<p>The vivid morning light only revealed the crime in more dreadful +detail. The withered form lay huddled in the stained leaves; and +Ben stood a long time beside it, in deep and wondering silence, +even now scarcely able to believe the truth. How strange it was +that this old comrade could not waken and go on with him again! But +in a moment he remembered his work.</p> +<p>Slowly, laboriously, with little outward sign of the emotion +that rent his heart, he dug a shallow grave He knew perfectly that +this was a serious risk to his cause. Should the murderer return +for any purpose, to his dead, the grave would of course show that +the body had been discovered and would put him on his guard against +Ben. Nevertheless, the latter could not leave these early remains +to the doubtful mercy of the wilderness: the agents of air and sun, +and the wild beasts.</p> +<p>He threw the last clod and stood looking down at the upturned +earth. "Sleep good, old Ez," he murmured in simple mass for the +dead. "I'll do what you said."</p> +<p>Then, at the head of the grave, he thrust the barrel of Ezram's +rifle into the ground, a monument grim as his own thoughts. The +last rite was completed; he was free to work now. From now on he +could devote every thought to the work in hand,—the payment +of his debts.</p> +<p>By the same roundabout route he circled back to his camp, cooked +his meager lunch, and in the afternoon ventured forth again. But he +was prospecting in earnest this time, though the prospects that he +sought were those of victory to his cause, rather than of gold. He +was seeking simply a good, general idea of the nature and geography +of the country so that he might know better how to plan his +attack.</p> +<p>His excursion took him at last to the wooded bank of the river. +He stood a long time, quite motionless, listening to the water +voices that only the wise can understand. This was really a noble +stream. It flowed with such grandeur in its silence and solitude; +old and gray and austere, it was a mighty expression of wilderness +power,—resistless, immortal, eternally secretive. The waters +flowed darkly, icy cold from the melting snow; but like a sleeping +giant they would be quick to seize upon and destroy such as would +try to brave their currents, likely never to yield them up again. +Flowing forever through the uninhabited forest no man would ever +know the fate of those the river claimed.</p> +<p>He was above the camp when he descended to its banks, but he +worked his way down through the thickets toward Jeffery Neilson's +cabin. The river flowed quietly here, a long, still stretch that +afforded safe boating. Yet the smooth waters did not in the least +alleviate Ben's haunting sense of their sinister power and peril. +The old gray she-wolf is not to be trusted in her peaceful moments. +His keen ears could distinctly hear the roar and rumble of wild +waters, just below.</p> +<p>The river was of great depth as well as breadth,—one of +the king rivers of the land. Ben found himself staring into its +depths with a quickening pulse. He had a momentary impression that +this great stream was his ally, a mighty agent that he could bend +to his will.</p> +<p>He approached the long, sloping bank on which stood Neilson's +cabin; and he suddenly drew up short at the sight of a light, +staunch canoe on the open water. It was a curious fact that he +noticed the craft itself before ever he glanced at its occupant. A +thrill of excitement passed over him. He realized that this boat +simplified to some degree his own problem, in that it afforded him +means of traversing this great water-body, certainly to be a factor +in the forthcoming conflict. The boat had evidently been the +property of Hiram Melville.</p> +<p>Then he noticed, with a strange, inexplicable leap of his heart, +that its lone occupant was Beatrice Neilson. His eye kindled at the +recognition, and the beginnings of a smile flashed to his lips. But +at once remembrance came to him, crushing his joy as the heel +crushes a tender flower. The girl was of the enemy camp, the +daughter of the leader of the triumvirate of murderers. While she +herself could have had no part in the crime, perhaps she already +had guilty knowledge of it, and at least she was of her father's +hated blood.</p> +<p>He had builded much on his friendship with this girl; but he +felt it withering, turning black—like buds under +frost—in his cold breast. There could be no friendly words, +except in guile; no easy comradeship between them now. They were on +opposite sides, hated foes to the last. Perhaps she would be one of +the innocents that must suffer with the guilty; but he felt no +remorse. Not even this lovely, tender wood child must stand in his +way.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, he must not put her on guard. He must simulate +friendship. He lifted his hat in answer to her gay signal.</p> +<p>She wore a white middy blouse, and her brown, bare forearms +flashed pleasantly in the spring sun. Her brown hair was +disarranged by the wind that found a passway down the river, and +her eyes shone with the sheer, unadorned love of living. Evidently +she had just enjoyed a brisk paddle through the still stretches of +the river. With sure, steady strokes she pushed the craft close to +the little, board landing where Ben stood. She reached up to him, +and in an instant was laughing—at nothing in particular but +the fun of life—at his side.</p> +<p>The man glanced once at Fenris, spoke in command, then turned to +the girl. "All rested from the ride, I see," he began easily.</p> +<p>Her instincts keyed to the highest pitch, for an instant she +thought she discerned an unfamiliar tone, hard and hateful, in his +voice. But his eyes and his lips were smiling; and evidently she +was mistaken. "I never get tired," she responded. She glanced at +the tools in his arms. "I suppose you've found a dozen rich lodes +already this morning."</p> +<p>"Only one." He smiled, significantly, into her eyes. Because she +was a forest girl, unused to flattery, the warm color grew in her +brown cheeks. "And how was paddling? The water looks still enough +from here."</p> +<p>"It's not as still as it looks, but it is easy going for a +half-mile each way. If you aren't an expert boatman, +however—I hardly think—I'd try it."</p> +<p>"Why not? I'm fair enough with a canoe, of course—but it +looks safe as a lake."</p> +<p>"But it isn't." She paused. "Listen with those keen ears of +yours, Mr. Darby. Don't you hear anything?"</p> +<p>Ben did not need particularly keen ears to hear: the far-off +sound of surging waters reached him with entire clearness. He +nodded.</p> +<p>"That's the reason," the girl went on. "If something should +happen—and you'd get carried around the bend—a little +farther than you meant to go—you'd understand. And we +wouldn't see any more of Mr. Darby around these parts."</p> +<p>Her dark eyes, brimming with light and laughter, were on his +face, but she failed to see him slowly stiffen to hide the sudden, +wild leaping of his heart. Could it be that he saw the far-off +vision of his triumph?</p> +<p>His eyes glowed, and he fought off with difficulty a great +preoccupation that seemed to be settling over him.</p> +<p>"Tell me about it," he said at last, casually. "I was thinking +of making a boat and going down on a prospecting trip."</p> +<p>"I'll tell you about it, and then I think you'll change your +mind. The first cataract is the one just above where we first saw +the river—coming in; then there's this mile of quiet water. +From that point on the Yuga flows into a gorge—or rather one +gorge after another; and sometime they'll likely be almost as +famous as some of the great gorges of your country. The walls are +just about straight up on each side, and of course are absolutely +impassable. I don't know how many miles the first gorge +is—but for nearly two hundred miles the river is considered +impassable for boats. Two hundred and fifty miles or so below there +is an Indian village—but they never try to go down the river +from here. A few white men, however, have tried to go down with +canoe-loads of fur."</p> +<p>"And all drowned?" Ben asked.</p> +<p>"All except one party. Once two men went down when the river was +high—just as it is now. They were good canoeists, and they +made it through. No one ever expected they would come out +again."</p> +<p>"And after you've once got into the rapids, there's no getting +out—or landing?"</p> +<p>"Of course not. I suppose there are places where you might get +on the bank, but the gorge above is impassable."</p> +<p>"You couldn't follow the river down—with horses?"</p> +<p>"Yes, in time. Of course it would be slow going, as there are no +trails, the brush is heavy, and the country is absolutely +unexplored. You see it has never been considered a gold +country—and of course the Indians won't go except where they +can go in canoes. Some of the hills must be impassable, too. I've +heard my father speak about it—how that if any +criminal—or any one like that—could take down this +river in a canoe in high water—and get through into that +great, virgin, trackless country a hundred miles below, it would be +almost impossible to get him out. Unless the officers could chase +him down the same way he went—by canoe—it would take +literally weeks and months for them to get in, and by that time he +could be hidden and located and his tracks covered up."</p> +<p>"And with good ambushes, able to hold off and kill a dozen of +them, eh?" Ben's hands shook, and he locked them behind him. "They +call that country—what?"</p> +<p>"'Back There.' That's all I've ever heard it called—'Back +There.'"</p> +<p>"It's as good a name as any. Of course, the reason they were +able to make it through in high water was due to the fact that most +of the rocks and ledges were submerged, and they could slide right +over them."</p> +<p>"Of course. Many of our rivers are safer in high water. But you +seriously don't intend to take such a trip—"</p> +<p>He looked up to find her eyes wide and full upon his. Yet her +concern for him touched him not at all. She was his enemy: that +fact could never be forgotten or forgiven.</p> +<p>"I want to hear about it, anyway. I heard in town the river is +higher than it's been for years—due to the +Chinook—"</p> +<p>"It <i>is</i> higher than I've ever seen it. But it's reached +its peak and has started to fall, and it won't come up again, at +least, till fall. When the Yuga rises it comes up in a flood, and +it falls the same way. It's gone down quite a little since this +morning; by the day after to-morrow no one could hope to get +through Devil's Gate—the first cataract in the gorge."</p> +<p>"Not even with a canoe? Of course a raft would be broken to +pieces."</p> +<p>"Not a canoe, either, in two or three days, if the river falls +like it usually does. But tell me—you aren't +serious—"</p> +<p>"I suppose not. But it gets my imagination—just the same. +I suppose a man would average better than twenty miles an hour down +through that gorge, and would come out at <i>Back There</i>."</p> +<p>Their talk moved easily to other subjects; yet it seemed to Ben +that some secondary consciousness held up his end of the +conversation. His own deeper self was lost in curious and dark +conjectures. Her description of the river lingered in his thoughts, +and he seemed to be groping for a great inspiration that was +hovering just beyond his reach—as plants grope for light in +far-off leafy jungles. He felt that it would come to him in a +moment: he would know the dark relation that these facts about the +river bore to his war with Neilson. It was as if an inner mind, +much more subtle and discerning than his normal consciousness, had +seen great possibilities in them, but as yet had not divulged their +significance.</p> +<p>"I must be going now," the girl was saying. "Father pretty near +goes crazy when I stay away too long. You can't imagine how he +loves me and worries about me—and how fearful he is of +me—"</p> +<p>His mind seemed to leap and gather her words. It was true: she +was the joy and the pride and the hope of the old man's life. All +his work, his dreams were for her. And now he remembered a fact +that she had told him on the outward journey: that Ray Brent, the +stronger of Neilson's two subordinates, loved her too.</p> +<p>"To strike at them indirectly—through some one they +love—" such had been his greatest wish. To put them at a +disadvantage and overcome his own—to lead them into his own +ambushes. And was it for the Wolf to care what guiltless creatures +fell before his fangs in the gaining of his dreadful ends? Was the +gratification of his hate to be turned aside through pity for an +innocent girl? Mercy and remorse were two things that he had put +from him. It was the way of the Wolf to pay no attention to +methods, only to achieve his own fierce desires. He stood lost in +dark and savage reverie.</p> +<p>"Good-by," the girl was saying. "I'll see you soon—"</p> +<p>He turned toward her, a smile at his lips. His voice held steady +when he spoke.</p> +<p>"It'll have to be soon, if at all," he replied. "I've got to +really get to work in a few days. How about a little picnic +to-morrow—a grouse hunt, say—on the other side of the +river? It's going to be a beautiful day—"</p> +<p>The girl's eyes shone, and the color rose again in her tanned +cheeks. "I'd think that would be very nice," she told him.</p> +<p>"Then I'll meet you here—at eight."</p> +<br> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XVIII"></a> +<h2>XVIII</h2> +<p>Alone by the fire Ben had opportunity to balance one thing with +another and think out the full consequences of his plan. As far as +he could discern, it stood every test. It meant not only direct and +indirect vengeance upon Neilson and his followers; but it would +also, past all doubt, deliver them into his hands. That much was +sure. When finally they came to grips—if indeed they did not +go down to a terrible death before ever that time came—he +would be prepared for them, with every advantage of ground and +fortress, able to combat them one by one and shatter them from +ambush. Best of all, they would know at whose hands, and for what +crime, they received their retribution.</p> +<p>One by one he checked the chances against him. First of all, he +had to face the great chance of failure and the consequent loss of +his own life. But there was even recompense in this. He would not +die unavenged. The blow that he would thereby deal to his enemies +would be terrible beyond any reckoning, but he would have no +regrets.</p> +<p>There were two outstanding points in his favor, one of them +being that the river was rapidly falling. By the time a canoe could +be built the river would be wholly unnavigable. There were no +canoes procurable in Snowy Gulch, if indeed a lightning trip could +be made there and back to secure one, before the river fell. The +conversation with the frontiersman at the river bank brought out +this fact. Lastly, a raft could not live a moment in the +rapids.</p> +<p>Very methodically he began to make his preparations. He untied +his horse, leaving it free to descend to Snowy Gulch. Then he +packed a few of his most essential supplies, his gun and shells, +such necessary camp equipment as robes, matches, soap and towels, +cooking and table ware, an axe and similar necessaries. In the way +of food he laid out flour, rice, salt, and sugar, plus a few pounds +of tea—nothing else. The entire outfit weighed less than two +hundred pounds, easily carried in three loads upon the back.</p> +<p>In the still hour of midnight, when the forest world was swept +in mystery, he carried the equipment down to the canoe that +Beatrice had left the evening before. He loaded the craft with the +greatest care, balancing it now and then with his hands at the +sides, and covering up the food supplies with robes and blankets. +Then he drew from his pocket a sheet of paper—evidently a +paper sack that had once held provisions, cut open and +spread—and wrote carefully, a long time, with a pencil.</p> +<p>He had no envelope to enclose it, no wax to seal it. He did, +however, carry a stub of a candle—a requisite to most +northern men who are obliged to build supper fires in wet forest. +Folding his letter carefully, he sealed it with tallow. Then +wrapping one of his blankets about him, he prepared to wait for the +dawn. Fenris growled and murmured in his sleep.</p> +<p>Ben himself had not slept the night before; and moved and +stirred by his plan of the morrow, slumber did not come easily to +him now. He too murmured in his sleep and had weird, tragic dreams +between sleep and wakefulness. But the shadows paled at last. A +ribbon of light spread along the eastern horizon; the more familiar +landmarks emerged—ghosts at first, then in vivid outline, the +wooded sky line strengthened; the nebulous magic of the moon died +in the forest. Birds wakened and sang; the hunting creatures crept +to their lairs; sleeping flowers opened. Morning broke on a clear, +warm day.</p> +<p>Ben devoured a heavy breakfast—all that he could force +himself to swallow—then prepared to wait for Beatrice. He +knew perfectly that explanations would be difficult if Neilson or +one of his followers found him with the loaded boat. It was not +likely, however, that any of his enemies—except, of course, +Beatrice herself—would venture down that way.</p> +<p>Just before eight he saw her come,—first the glint of her +white blouse in the green of the forest, and then the flash of her +brown arms. Her voice rang clear and sweet through the hushed +depths as she called a greeting. A moment later she was beside +him.</p> +<p>"Go back and get your heavy coat," he commanded. "I've already +been out on the water, and it'll freeze you stiff."</p> +<p>He was not overly pleased with himself for speaking thus. He had +resolved to put mercy from him; and he was taking a serious risk to +his own cause by the delay of sending her back for her warmer +garments. She smiled into his eyes, but she came of a breed of +women that had learned obedience to men, and she immediately +turned. But Ben had builded better than he thought. His eyes were +no longer on her radiant face. They had dropped to the pistol, in +its holster, that she carried in her hands, preparatory to +strapping it about her waist. It was disconcerting that he had +forgotten about her pistol. It was one of those insignificant +trifles that before now have disrupted the mightiest plans of +nations and of men. His mind sped like lightning, and he thanked +his stars that he had seen it in time. This pistol and a small +package, the contents of which he did not know, were the only +equipment she had.</p> +<p>"It's going to be a bright day," the girl said hesitatingly. "I +don't think I'll need the fur coat—"</p> +<p>"Get it, anyway," Ben advised. "The wind's keen on the river. +Leave your pistol and your package here—and go up and back at +top speed. I'll be arranging the canoe—"</p> +<p>She laid down the things, and in a moment the thickets had +hidden her. Swiftly Ben reached for the gun, and for a few speeding +seconds his fingers worked at its mechanism. He was busy about the +canoe when the girl returned.</p> +<p>Evidently Beatrice was in wonderful spirits. The air itself was +sparkling, the sun—beloved with an ardor too deep for words +by all northern peoples—was warm and genial in the sky; the +spruce forest was lush with dew, fragrant with hidden blossoms. It +was a Spring Day—nothing less. Both of them knew perfectly +that miracle was abroad in the forest,—flowers opening, buds +breaking into blossoms, little grass blades stealing, shy as +fairies, up through the dead leaves; birds fluttering and gossiping +and carrying all manner of building materials for their nests.</p> +<p>Spring is not just a time of year to the forest folk, and +particularly to those creatures whose homes are the far spruce +forests of the North. It is a magic and a mystery, a recreation and +a renewed lease on life itself. It is hope come again, the joy of +living undreamed of except by such highly strung, nerve-tingling, +wild-blooded creatures as these; and in some measure at least it is +the escape from Fear. For there is no other name than Fear for the +great, white, merciless winter that had just departed.</p> +<p>High and low, every woods creature knows this dread, this +age-old apprehension of the deepening snow. Perhaps it had its +birth in eons past, when the great glaciers brought their curse of +gold into the temperate regions, locking land and sea under tons of +ice. Never the frost comes, and the snow deepens on the land, and +the rivers and lakes are struck silent as if by a cruel magician's +magic, but that this old fear returns, creeping like poison into +the nerves, bowing down the heart and chilling the warm wheel of +the blood. For the rodents and the digging people—even for +the mighty grizzly himself—the season means nothing but the +cold and the darkness of their underground lairs. For those that +try to brave the winter, the portion is famine and cold; the vast, +far-spreading silence broken only by the sobbing song of the wolf +pack, starving and afraid on the distant ridges. Man is the +conqueror, the Mighty One who can strike the fire, but yet he too +knows the creepy, haunting dread and deep-lying fear of the +northern winter. But that dread season was gone now, yielding for a +few happy months to a gay invader from the South; and the whole +forest world rejoiced.</p> +<p>Both Beatrice and Ben could sense the new wakening and revival +in the still depths about them. The forest was hushed, tremulous, +yet vibrant and ecstatic with renewed life. The old grizzly bear +had left his winter lair; and good feeding was putting the fat +again on his bones; the old cow moose had stolen away into the +farther marshes for some mystery and miracle of her own. Everywhere +young calves of caribou were breathing the air for the first time, +trying to stand on wobbly legs and pushing with greedy noses into +overflowing udders. The rich new grass yielded milk in plenty for +all these wilderness nurslings. Even the she-wolf forgot her wicked +savagery to nurse and fondle her whelps in the lair; even the +she-lynx, hunting with renewed fervor through the branches, knew of +a marvelous secret in a hollow log that she would be torn to scraps +of fur rather than reveal.</p> +<p>The she-ermine, her white hair falling out, was brooding a +litter of cutthroats and murderers in a nest of grass and twigs, +and each one of them was a source of pride and joy to her mother +heart. Even the wolverine had some wicked-eyed little cubs that, to +her, were precious beyond rubies; but which would ultimately +receive all the oaths in the language for stealing bait on the trap +lines out from the settlements.</p> +<p>Beatrice, a woods creature herself, knew the stir and thrill of +spring; but there were also more personal, more deeply hidden +reasons why she was happy to-day. She was certainly a very +girlish-girl in most ways, with even more than the usual allowance +of romance and sentiment, and the idea of an all-day picnic with +this stalwart forester went straight home to her imagination. She +had been tremendously impressed with him from the first, and the +day's ride out from Snowy Gulch had brought him very close to her +indeed. And what might not the day bring forth! What mystery and +wonder might come to pass!</p> +<p>Her dark eyes were lustrous, and the haunting sadness they often +held was quite gone. Her face was faintly flushed, her red lips +wistful, every motion eager and happy as a child's. But Ben looked +at her unmoved.</p> +<p>Coldly his eye leaped over her supple, slender form. He saw with +relief that she was stoutly clad in middy and skirt of wool, wool +stockings, and solid little boots. The heavy coat she had brought +was not particularly noteworthy in these woods, but it would have +drawn instant admiration from knowing people of a great city. It +was not cut with particular style, neither was it beautifully +lined, but the fabric itself was plucked otter,—the dark, +well-wearing fur of many lights and of matchless luster and +beauty.</p> +<p>"For goodness sake, Mr. Darby," the girl cried. "What have you +got in this boat? Surely that isn't just the lunch—" She +pointed to the pile of supplies, covered by the blankets, in the +center of the craft.</p> +<p>"It looks like we had enough to stay a month, doesn't it?" he +laughed. "There's blankets there, of course—for table cloths +and to make us comfortable—and the lunch, and a pillow or +two—and some little surprises. The rest is just some stores +that I'm going to take this opportunity to put across the +river—to my next camp. Now, Miss Neilson—if you'll take +the seat in the bow. Fenris is going to ride in the +middle—"</p> +<p>The girl's eyes fell with some apprehension on the shaggy wolf. +"I haven't established very friendly relations with +Fenris—"</p> +<p>"I'd leave him at home, but he won't stand for it. Besides I'd +like to teach him how to retrieve grouse. Lie down, old boy." Ben +motioned, and Fenris sprawled at his feet. "Now come here and pet +him, Miss Neilson. His fur, at this season, is +wonderful—"</p> +<p>Reluctant to show her fear before Ben, the girl drew near. The +wolf shivered as the soft hand touched his side and moved slowly to +his fierce head; but he gave no further sign of enmity.</p> +<p>"He understands," Ben explained. "He realizes that I've accepted +you, and you're all right. Until he's given orders otherwise, he'll +treat you with the greatest respect."</p> +<p>She was deeply and sincerely pleased. It did not occur to her, +in the least, little degree, that occasion could possibly arise +whereby contradictory orders would be given. Ben started to help +her into the boat.</p> +<p>"You've not forgotten anything?" he asked casually.</p> +<p>"Nothing I can think of."</p> +<p>"Got plenty of extra shells?"</p> +<p>"Part of a box. It's a small caliber automatic, you see, and a +box holds fifty."</p> +<p>"It is, eh?" Ben's tone indicated deep interest. "May I see 'em +a minute? I think I had a gun like it once. Not the gun—just +the box of shells."</p> +<p>She had strapped the weapon around her waist, by now, so she +didn't attempt to put it in his hands. From her pocket she procured +a small box of shells, and these she passed to him. He examined +them with a great show of interest, balancing their weight in the +palm of his hand; then he carelessly threw the box down among the +duffle in front of the stern seat. Presently he started to push +off.</p> +<p>"You're not taking the other paddle?" the girl asked +curiously.</p> +<p>"No. I don't believe in letting young ladies work when I take +'em on an outing. You are just to sit in the bow and enjoy +yourself. Fenris, sit still and don't rock the boat!"</p> +<p>Just one moment more he hesitated. From his pocket he drew a +piece of paper, carefully folded and sealed with tallow. This he +inserted into a little crack in the blade of the second +paddle—the one that was to be left at the landing.</p> +<p>"Just a little note for your father," he explained, "to tell him +where we are, in case he worries about you."</p> +<p>"That's very considerate of you," the girl answered in a +thoughtful voice.</p> +<p>She wondered at the curious glowings, lurid as red coals, that +came and went in his eyes.</p> +<br> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XIX"></a> +<h2>XIX</h2> +<p>After the manner of backwoods fathers Jeffery Neilson had +offered no objections to his daughter's all-day excursion with Ben. +The ways of the frontier are informal; and besides, he had every +confidence in her ability to take care of herself. The only +unfortunate phase of the affair concerned Ray. The latter would +look with no favor upon the venture; and in all probability a +disagreeable half-hour would ensue with him if he found it out.</p> +<p>The control of Ray Brent had been an increasingly difficult +problem. Always sullen and envious, once or twice he had not been +far from open rebellion. There is a certain dread malady that comes +to men at the sight of naked gold, and Ray's degenerate type was +particularly subject to it. Every day the mine had shown itself +increasingly rich, and Ray's ambition had given way to greed, and +his greed to avarice of the most dangerous sort. For instance, he +had a disquieting way of gathering the nuggets into his hands, +fondling them with an unholy love. Neilson realized perfectly, now, +that the younger man would not be content with a fourth share or +less; and on the other hand he resolutely refused to yield any of +his own, larger share. Sometime the issue would bring them to +grips. Ray's dreadful crime of a few days past had given him an +added insolence and self-assurance that complicated the problem +still further. The leopard that has once tasted human flesh is not +to be trusted again. Finally, there remained this matter of +Beatrice.</p> +<p>Neilson's love for his daughter forbade that he should force her +to receive unwelcome attentions. Ray, on the other hand, had always +insisted that his chief allow him a clear field. He would be +infuriated when he heard of the trip she was taking with Ben +to-day. Neilson straightened, resolving to meet the issue with +old-time firmness.</p> +<p>When he heard his daughter's voice on the canoe landing, one +hundred yards below, he was inordinately startled. She had not told +him that their picnic would take them on to the water. The reason +had been, of course, that Beatrice knew her father's distrust of +the treacherous stream and either feared his refusal to her plan or +wished to save him worry. Even now they were starting. He could +hear the first stroke of the paddle through the hushed woods.</p> +<p>He turned toward the door, instinctively alarmed; then +hesitated. After all, he could not tell her to come back. Beatrice +would be mortified; and besides, there was nothing definite to +fear. The river was almost as still as a lake for a long stretch +immediately in front of the landing; even a poor canoeist could +cross with ease. It was true that rapids, mile after mile of them +past counting, lay just below, but surely the canoeists would stay +at a safe distance above them. And if by any chance this young +prospector had no skill with a canoe, Beatrice herself was an +expert.</p> +<p>Yet what, in reality, did he know of Ben Darby? He had liked the +man's face: whence he came and what was his real business on the +Yuga he had not the least idea. All at once a baffling apprehension +crept like a chill through his frame.</p> +<p>He could not laugh it away. It laid hold of him, refusing to be +dispelled. It was as if an inner voice was warning him, telling him +to rush down to the river bank and check that canoe ride at all +costs. It occurred to him, for the moment, that this might be +premonition of a disastrous accident, yet vaguely he sensed a plot, +an obscure design that filled him with ghastly terror. Once more +the man started for the door.</p> +<p>Unaware of his ground, he did not hurry at first. He hardly knew +what to say, by what excuse he could call Beatrice back to the +landing. His heart was racing incomprehensibly in his breast, and +all at once he started to run.</p> +<p>At the first step he fell sprawling, and stark panic was upon +him when he got to his feet again. And when he reached the landing +the canoe was already near the opposite shore, heading swiftly +downstream.</p> +<p>He saw in one glance that the craft was rather heavily laden, +Fenris atop the pile of duffle, and that Ben was paddling with a +remarkably fast, easy stroke. "Come back, Beatrice," he shouted. +"You've forgotten something."</p> +<p>The girl turned, waving, but Ben's voice drowned out hers. +"We'll see you later," he called in a gay voice. "We can't come +back now."</p> +<p>"Come back!" Neilson called again. "I order you—"</p> +<p>He stared intently, hoping that the man would turn. Already they +were practically out of hearing; and not even Beatrice was dipping +her paddle in obedience to his command. Looking more closely, he +saw that the man only was paddling.</p> +<p>Then his eye fell to the landing on which he stood, +instinctively trying to locate the second paddle. It lay at his +feet. A foolhardy thing to do, he thought, a broken paddle, out +there above the rapids, would mean death and no other thing. +Helpless in the current, the canoe could not be guided through +those fearful gates of peril below. If by a thousandth chance it +escaped the rocks, it would be carried for unnumbered miles into a +land unknown, a territory that could be entered only by the +greatest difficulty—packing day after day over range and +through thicket with a great train of pack horses—and from +which the egress, except by the same perilous water route, would be +almost impossible. But the thought passed as he discerned the white +paper that had been fastened in the paddle blade.</p> +<p>He bent for it with eager hand. He knew instinctively that it +contained an all-important and sinister message for him. His eyes +leaped over the bold writing on the exterior.</p> +<p>"To Ezra Melville's murderers," Ben had written. And with that +reading Jeffery Neilson knew a terror beyond any experienced in the +darkest nightmare of his iniquitous life.</p> +<p>It did not occur to him to bring the note, unopened, to Ray +Brent. As yet he did not fully understand; yet he knew that the +issue was one of seconds. <i>Seconds</i> must decide everything; +his whole world hung in the balance. His hand ripped apart the +sealed fold, and he held the sheet before his eyes.</p> +<p>Possessing only an elementary education Jeffery Neilson was not, +ordinarily, a fast reader. Usually he sounded out his words only +with the greatest difficulty. But to-day, one glance at the page +conveyed to him the truth: from half a dozen words he got a general +idea of the letter's full, dread meaning. Ben had written:</p> +<div class="ltr"> +<p>TO NEILSON AND HIS GANG:—</p> +<p>When you get this, Beatrice will be on her way to Back +There—either there or on her way to hell.</p> +<p>Ezra Melville was my pard. A letter leaving his claim to me is +in my pocket, and I alone know where Hiram's will is, leaving it to +Ezram. Your title will never stand as long as those papers aren't +destroyed. If you don't care enough about saving your daughter from +me, at least you'll want those letters. Come and get them. I'll be +waiting for you.</p> +<p>BEN DARBY.</p> +</div> +<p>As the truth flashed home, Neilson's first thought was of his +rifle. He was a wilderness man, trained to put his trust in the +weapon of steel; and if it were only in his hands, there might yet +be time to prevent the abduction. One well-aimed bullet over the +water, shooting with all his old-time skill, might yet hurl the +avenger to his death in the moment of his triumph. Just one keen, +long gaze over the sights,—heaven or earth could not yield +him a vision half so glorious as this! For all his terror he knew +that he could shoot as he had never shot before, true as a +light-ray. His remorseless eyes for once could see clear and sure. +One shot—and then Beatrice could seize the paddle and save +herself. And he cursed himself, more bitterly than he had ever +cursed an enemy, when his empty hands showed him that he had left +his rifle in his cabin.</p> +<p>His pistol, however, was at his belt, and his hand reached for +it. But the range was already too far for any hope of accurate +pistol fire. His hard eyes gazed along the short, black barrel. His +steady finger pressed back against the trigger.</p> +<p>The first shot fell far short. The pistol was of large caliber +but small velocity; and a hundred yards was its absolute limit of +point-blank range. He lifted the gun higher and shot again. Again +he shot low. But the third bullet fell just a few feet on the near +side of the canoe.</p> +<p>He had the range now, and he shot again. It was like a dream, +outside his consciousness, that Beatrice was screaming with fear +and amazement. She was already too far to give or receive a +message: all hope lay in the pistol alone. The fifth shot splashed +water beyond the craft.</p> +<p>Once more he fired, but the boat was farther distant now, and +the bullet went wild. The pistol was empty. Like a moose leaping +through a marsh he turned back to his cabin for his rifle.</p> +<p>But already he knew that he was lost. Before ever he could climb +up the hundred yards to the cabin, and back again, the craft would +be around the bend in the river. Heavy brush would hide it from +then on. He hastened frantically up the narrow, winding trail.</p> +<br> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XX"></a> +<h2>XX</h2> +<p>Ben was fully aware, as he pushed the canoe from landing, that +the success of his scheme was not yet guaranteed. Long ago, in the +hard school of the woods, he had found out life; and one of the +things he had learned was that nothing on earth is infallible and +no man's plans are sure. There are always coincidents of which the +scheming brain has not conceived: the sudden interjection of +unexpected circumstances. The unforeseen appearance of Beatrice's +father on the landing had been a case in point.</p> +<p>Most of all he had been afraid that Beatrice herself would leap +from the canoe and attempt to swim to safety. He had learned in his +past conversations with her that she had at least an elementary +knowledge of swimming. Had she not confessed at the same time fear +of the water, his plan could have never been adopted. The northern +girls have few opportunities to obtain real proficiency in +swimming. Their rivers are icy cold, their villages do not afford +heated natatoriums. Yet he realized that he must quiet her +suspicions as long as possible.</p> +<p>"I've got the landing picked out," he told her as they started +off. "I've been all over the river this morning. It is quite a way +down—around the bend—but it's perfectly safe. So don't +be afraid."</p> +<p>"I'm not afraid—with you. And how fast you paddle!"</p> +<p>It was true: in all her days by rivers she had never seen such +perfect control of a canoe. He paddled as if without effort, but +the streaming shore line showed that the boat moved at an +astonishing rate. He was a master canoeist, and whatever fears she +might have had vanished at once.</p> +<p>She talked gayly to him, scarcely aware that they were heading +across and down the stream.</p> +<p>When her father had appeared on the bank, calling, she had not +been in the least alarmed. Ben's gay shouts kept her from +understanding exactly what he was saying. And when the old man had +drawn his pistol and fired, and the bullet had splashed in the +water some twenty yards toward shore, her mind had refused to +accept the evidence of her senses.</p> +<p>The second shot followed the first, and the third the second, +resulting in, for her part, only the impotence of bewilderment. Her +first thought was that her father's fierce temper, long known to +her, had engulfed him in murderous rage. Trusting Ben wholly, the +real truth did not occur to her.</p> +<p>She screamed shrilly at the fourth shot; and Ben looked up to +find her pale as the foam from his flashing paddle. "Turn around +and go back," she cried to Ben. "He'll kill you if you don't! Oh, +please—turn around—"</p> +<p>"And get in range of him so he <i>can</i> kill me?" Ben replied +savagely. "Can't you see he's shooting at me?"</p> +<p>"Then throw up your hands—it's all some dreadful mistake. +Can't you hear me—turn and go back."</p> +<p>The fifth and sixth shots were fired by now; and Neilson had +gone to his cabin for his rifle. Ben smiled grimly into her white +face.</p> +<p>"We'd better keep on going to our landing place," he advised. +"There's no place to land above it—I went all over the shore +this morning. That will give him time to cool down. I only want to +get around this curve before he comes with his rifle."</p> +<p>She stared at him aghast, too confused and terrified to make +rational answer. He was pale, too; but she had a swift feeling that +the cold, rugged face was in some way exultant, too. The first +chill of fear of him brushed her like a cold wind.</p> +<p>But they were around the bend by now, and Ben's breath caught as +if in a triumphant gasp. Already all opportunity for the girl to +swim to shore was irremediably past. While he could still control +the canoe with comparative ease, the river was a swift-moving sheet +of water that would carry any one but the strongest swimmer +remorselessly into the rapids below. Ben smiled, like a man who has +come into a great happiness, and rested on his paddle.</p> +<p>"Push into shore," the girl urged. "The home shore—if you +can. Then I'll go and find him and try to quiet him. He'll kill you +if you don't."</p> +<p>A short pause followed the girl's words. The man smiled coldly +into her eyes.</p> +<p>"He'll kill me, will he?" he repeated.</p> +<p>The response to the simple question was simply unmitigated +terror, swift and deadly, surging through the girl's frame. It +caught and twisted her throat muscles like a cruel hand; and her +childish eyes widened and darkened under his contemptuous gaze.</p> +<p>"What do you mean?" she asked breathlessly. "What—are you +going to do?"</p> +<p>"He won't kill me," Ben went on. "I may kill him—and I +will if I can—but he won't kill me. See—we're going +faster all the time."</p> +<p>It was true. Strokes of the paddle were no longer necessary to +propel the craft at the breakneck pace. It sped like an +arrow—straight toward the perilous cataracts below.</p> +<p>The girl watched him with transcending horror, and slowly the +truth went home. The supplies in the boat, her father's desperate +attempt to rescue her, even at the risk of her own life and the +cost of Ben's, this white, exultant face before her, more terrible +than that of the wolf between, the cold reptile eyes so full of +some unhallowed emotion,—at last she saw their meaning and +relation. Was it <i>death</i>—was <i>that</i> what this mad +man in the stern had for her? She remembered what she had told him +the day before, her description of the cataracts that lay below. +She struggled to shake off the trance that her terror had cast +about her.</p> +<p>"Turn into the shore," she told him, half-whispering. There was +no pleading in her tone: the hard eyes before her told her only too +plainly how futile her pleas would be. "You still have time to +steer into shore. I'll jump overboard if you don't."</p> +<p>He shook his head. "Don't jump overboard, Beatrice," he +answered, some of the harshness gone from his tones. "It isn't my +purpose to kill you—and to jump over into this stream only +means to die—'for any one except the most powerful swimmer. +You'd be carried down in an instant."</p> +<p>The girl knew he spoke the truth. Only death dwelt in those cold +and rushing waters. "What do you mean to do?" she asked.</p> +<p>Her tone was more quiet now, and he waited an instant before he +answered. The canoe glided faster—ever faster down the +stream. Somewhat afraid, but still trusting in the imperial mind of +his master, the wolf raised his head to watch the racing shore +line.</p> +<p>"It's just a little debt I owe your father—and his gang," +Ben explained. "I'll tell you some time, in the days to come. It +was a debt of blood—"</p> +<p>The girl's dark eyes charged with red fire. "And you, a coward, +take your payment on a woman. Turn the canoe into the bank."</p> +<p>"The payment won't be taken from you," he explained soberly. +"You'll be safe enough—even the fate that Neilson fears for +you won't happen. I hate him too much to take <i>that</i> payment +from you. I'd die before I'd touch the flesh of his flesh to mine! +Do you understand that?"</p> +<p>His fury had blazed up, for the instant, and she saw the deadly +zeal of a fanatic in his gray eyes. A hatred beyond all naming, a +bitterness and a rage such as she had never dreamed could blast a +human heart was written in his brown, rugged face. Her woman's +intuition gave her added vision, and she glimpsed something of the +fire that smoldered and seared behind his eyes. They were of one +blood, this man in the stern and the wolf on the duffle.</p> +<p>"Then why—"</p> +<p>"You're safe with me—the daughter of Jeff Neilson can't +ever be anything but safe with me—as far as the thing you +fear is concerned. Don't be afraid for that. I'm simply paying an +honest debt, and you're the unfortunate agent. Don't you know the +things he's fearing now are more torment to him than anything I +could do to his flesh? If we should be killed in these rapids that +are coming, it will be fair enough too; he'll know what it is to +lose the dearest thing on earth he has. For you and me it will only +be a minute that won't greatly matter. For him it will be +weeks—months! But that's only a part of it. I hope to bring +you through. The main thing is—that sooner or later they'll +come for you—into a country where I'll have every advantage. +Where there won't be any escape or chance for them. Where I can +watch the trails, and shatter them—every one—as slow or +as fast as I like. Where they'll have to hunt for me, week on week +and month on month, their fears eating into them. That's my game, +Beatrice. There will be discomfort for you—and some +danger—but I'll make it as light as I can. And in another +moment—"</p> +<p>"You've still got time to turn back," the girl answered him, +seemingly without feeling. "Glide into shore, and we'll try to +catch an overhanging limb. It's my last warning."</p> +<p>It was true that a few seconds remained in which they might, +with heroic effort, save themselves. But these were passing: +already they could see the gleaming whitecaps of the cataract +below.</p> +<p>The roar of the wild waters was in their ears. Ahead they could +see great rocks, emerging like fangs above the water, sharp-edged +and wet with spray. The boat was shuddering; the water seemed to +covet them, and a great force, like the hand of a river god, +reached at them from beneath as if to crush them in a merciless +grasp. A hundred yards farther the smooth, swift water fell into a +seething, roaring cataract—such a manifestation of the mighty +powers of nature as checks the breath and awes the heart—a +death stream in which seemingly the canoe would be shattered to +pieces in an instant.</p> +<p>Ben shook his head. The girl's white hand flashed to her side, +then rose sure and steady, holding her pistol. "Turn quick, or I'll +fire," she said.</p> +<p>He felt that, if such action were in her power, she told the +truth. No mercy dwelt in her clear gaze. His eye fell to the box of +cartridges, now fallen safely among the duffle. Presently he smiled +into her eyes.</p> +<p>"Your gun is empty, Beatrice," he told her quietly. He heard her +sob, and he smiled a little, reassuringly. "Never mind—and +pray for a good voyage," he advised. "We're going through."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXI"></a> +<h2>XXI</h2> +<p>The craft and its occupants were out of sight by the time +Jeffery Neilson reached the river bank with his rifle. The flush +had swept from his bronze skin, leaving it a ghastly yellow, and +for once in his life no oaths came to his lips. He could only +mutter, strangely, from a convulsed throat.</p> +<p>Like an insane man he hastened down the river bank, fighting his +way through the brush. The thickets were dense, ordinarily +impenetrable to any mortal strength except to that mighty, +incalculable power of the moose and grizzly; yet they could not +restrain him now. The tough clothes he wore were nearly torn from +his body; his face and hands were scratched as if by the claws of a +lynx; but he did not pause till he reached the bank of the gray +river.</p> +<p>Only one more glimpse of the canoe was vouchsafed him, and that +glimpse came too late. He saw the light barge just as it hovered at +the crest of the rapids. Even if he could have shot straight at so +great a range and had killed the man in the stern, no miracle could +have saved his daughter. She would have been instantly swept to her +death against the crags.</p> +<p>Some measure of self-control returned to him then, and he made +his way fast as he could toward the claim. Sensing the older man's +distress, Ray straightened from his work at the sight of him.</p> +<p>The face before him was drawn and white; but there was no time +for questions. Hard hands seized his arm.</p> +<p>"Ray, do you know of a canoe anywhere—up or down this +river?"</p> +<p>"There's one at the landing. None other I know of."</p> +<p>"Think, man! You don't know where we can get one?"</p> +<p>"No. Old Hiram's canoe was the only one. What's the matter?"</p> +<p>"Do you think there's one chance in a million of getting down +through those rapids on a raft?"</p> +<p>Ray's eyes opened wide. "A raft!" he echoed. "Man, are you +crazy? Even at this high water a canoe wouldn't have a chance in +ten of making it. The river's falling every hour—"</p> +<p>"I know it. Do you suppose there's a canoe in town?"</p> +<p>"No! Of course there isn't—one that you could even dream +about shooting those rapids in. Besides, by the time we got there +and packed it up—it would take two days to pack it the best +we could do—the river would be too far down to tackle the +trip at all. And it won't come up again till fall—you know +that. Tell me what's the matter. Has Beatrice—"</p> +<p>"Beatrice has gone down, that's all."</p> +<p>"Then she's dead—no hope of anything else. Only an expert +could hope to take her through, and there's nothing to live on Back +There. What's the use of trying to follow—?"</p> +<p>Neilson straightened, his eyes searching Ray's. "She's got food, +I suppose. And she's got an expert paddler to take her there."</p> +<p>Ray's face seemed to darken before his eyes. His hands half +closed, shook in his face, then caught at Neilson's shoulders. "You +don't mean—she's run away?"</p> +<p>"Don't be a fool. Not run away—abducted. The prospector I +told you about—Darby—was the old man's partner. He's +paying us back. Heaven only knows what the girl's fate will +be—I don't dare to think of it. Ray, I wish to God I had died +before I ever saw this day!"</p> +<p>Ray stared blankly. "Then he found out—about the murder?" +he gasped.</p> +<p>"Yes. Here's his letter. Take time—and read it. There's no +use to try to act before we think—how to act. If I could only +see a way—"</p> +<p>Ray read the letter carefully, crumpling it at last in savage +wrath. "It's your fault!" he cried. "Why didn't you save her for me +as I've always asked you to do; why did you let her go out with him +at all? I'll bet she wanted to go—"</p> +<p>"I'd rather she had, instead of being taken by force!" The older +man—aged incredibly in a few little minutes—slowly +straightened. "But don't storm at me, Ray!" he warned, carefully +and quietly. "I've stood a lot from you, but to-day I'd kill you +for one word!"</p> +<p>They faced each other in black disdain, but Ray knew he spoke +the truth. There was no toying with this man's wrath to-day.</p> +<p>"And if you'd let me croak this devil like I wanted to, it +wouldn't have happened either. But there's no use crying about +either one. The girl's a goner, sure; she's deep in the rapids by +now."</p> +<p>"Yes, and it's part of this man's hellish plan to take her clear +through to Back There. You see, he dares us to come for +her—and he'll be waiting and ready for us, mark my words. My +God, she's probably dead—smashed to +pieces—already!"</p> +<p>"He says he's got the old man's letter, leaving the claim to +him. That messes up things even worse."</p> +<p>"I wish I'd never heard of the claim. There's only one thing to +do, and that's to rush into Snowy Gulch and get a big +outfit—all the horses and supplies we can find—and go +after her by land."</p> +<p>"Yes, and walk right into his trap. Think again, Neilson. It +would take weeks and months to get in that way. Besides, what would +happen to the claim while we're gone?"</p> +<p>"You needn't fear for the claim! Of course, I'd expect you to +think of that first—you who loved Beatrice so dearly!" +Neilson's face was white with disdain. "It'll be recorded in our +names, by then—likely Chan is already in +Bradleyburg—and Darby himself is the only man on earth we +have to fear." He paused, putting his faith in desperate craft. "If +you want to cinch the claim, the first thing to do is go and stamp +the life out of Darby; otherwise he'll turn up and make us trouble, +just as he says."</p> +<p>"He can't do much if the claim's recorded in our names!"</p> +<p>"He can make us plenty of trouble. If you want the girl, +Ray—don't lose a minute. Put your things together as fast as +you can. We'll try to get some men in Snowy Gulch to come with +us—to join in the hunt—and we'll hire every pack horse +in the country. Get busy, and get busy quick."</p> +<p>Reluctant to leave his gold, yet seeing the truth in Neilson's +words, Ray hastened to his cabin to get such few supplies as would +be needed for the day's march into Snowy Gulch. In less than five +minutes they were on their way—tramping in file down the +narrow moose trail.</p> +<p>They crossed the divide, thus reaching the headwaters of Poor +Man's Creek; then took the trail down toward the settlements. But +the two claim-jumpers had not yet learned all the day's ill news. +Half-way to the mouth of the stream they met Chan Heminway on his +way back to the claim.</p> +<p>At the first sight of him, riding in the rear of a long train of +laden pack horses, they could hardly believe their eyes. It was not +to be credited that he had made the trip to Bradleyburg and back in +the few days he had been absent. Only an aeroplane could have made +so fast a trip. Could it be that in spite of his definite orders he +was returning with the duty of recording the claim still +unperformed? To Neilson, however, the sight of the long pack train +brought some measure of satisfaction. Here were horses laden with +the summer supplies that Chan had been told to procure, and they +could be utilized in the pursuit of Beatrice. Two days at least +could be saved.</p> +<p>"What in the devil you coming back for?" Ray shouted, when +Chan's identity became certain.</p> +<p>Chan rode nearer as if he had not heard. He checked his horse +deliberately, undoubtedly inwardly excited by the news he had to +tell and perhaps somewhat triumphant because he was its bearer. +"I'm coming back because there ain't no use in staying at Snowy +Gulch any longer," he answered at last. "I've got the supplies, and +I'm packin' up to the claim, just as I was told."</p> +<p>"But why didn't you go to Bradleyburg and record the claim?" Ray +stormed. "Don't you know until that's done we're likely to be +chased off any minute?"</p> +<p>Chan looked into his partner's angry eyes, and his own lips drew +in a scowl. "Because there wasn't any use in goin' to +Bradleyburg."</p> +<p>Ray was stricken with terror, and his words faltered. "You mean +you could tend to it in Snowy Gulch—"</p> +<p>"I don't mean nothing of the kind. Shut up a minute, and I'll +tell you about it. A few days ago Steve Morris got a letter +addressed to old Hiram Melville—in care of Steve. He opened +it and read it, and I heard about it soon as I got into town. There +ain't no use of our trying to record that claim."</p> +<p>"For God's sake, why?"</p> +<p>"Because it's already recorded, that's why. We all felt so sure, +and we wasn't sure at all. Before old Hiram died he wrote a +letter—one of them two letters you heard about, +Neilson—and which you wished you'd got hold of. Who that +letter was to was an official in Bradleyburg—an old friend of +Hiram's—and in it was a description of the claim. This letter +Morris got was a notice that his claim was all properly filed in +his—Hiram's—name. Whatever formalities was necessary +was cut out because the old man had been too sick to make the +trip—the recorder got special permission from Victoria. To be +plain, I didn't file the claim because it's already filed, and I +didn't want to show myself up as a claim-jumper quite as bad as +that."</p> +<p>"It's all over town—about the claim?"</p> +<p>"Sure, but there won't be a rush. There's quite a movement over +Bradleyburg way for one thing; for another, this is a pocket +country, once and for always."</p> +<p>For some seconds thereafter his partners could make no +intelligent response. This bitter blow had been anticipated by +neither. But Ray was a strong man, and his self-control quickly +returned to him.</p> +<p>"You see what that means, don't you?" he asked Neilson.</p> +<p>"It means we've lost!"</p> +<p>The eyes before him narrowed and gleamed. "So that's what it +means to you! Well, I don't look at it just that way. It means to +me that we've got to take these supplies and these pack horses and +start out and find Ben Darby—and never stop hunting till +we've found him."</p> +<p>"Of course we've got to rescue Beatrice—"</p> +<p>"Rescuing Beatrice isn't all of it now, by a long shot. For the +Lord's sake, Neilson—use your head a minute. Didn't old Hiram +leave a will, giving this claim to his brother Ezra? If the claim +wasn't recorded that will wouldn't mean much—but it is. And +hasn't this Ben got a letter from Ezra leaving the claim to him? +Now do you want to know who owns that claim? Ben Darby owns it, and +as long as he can kick, that quarter of a million in gold can never +be ours."</p> +<p>"You mean we've got to find him—and destroy that +letter—"</p> +<p>"We've got to; that's all. He wrote us he had it, just to taunt +us, and we've got to burn that up whether we find the girl or not. +But that ain't all we've got to destroy—that piece of paper. +You see that, don't you?"</p> +<p>Neilson breathed heavily. "It's all plain enough."</p> +<p>"I want it to be plain, so next time I want to let daylight +through a man you won't stand in the way. It ain't just enough to +burn up that letter. We've got to get the man who owns it, too. If +we don't he'd still have a good enough case against us—with a +good lawyer. Likely enough lots of people knew of their +partnership, maybe have seen the letter—and they'd all be +good witnesses in a suit. Our reputation ain't so good, after that +Jenkins deal, that we'd shine very bright in a suit. Even if he +couldn't prove his own claim, he could lug out the will old Hiram +left—he alone knows where it's hid—and then his next +nearest relatives would come in and get the claim. On the other +hand, if we smash him, the thing will all quiet down; there'll be +no claimants to work the mine; and after a few months we can step +in and put up our own notices. But we've got to do that +first—smash him wide-open as soon as we can catch up with +him. He'll be way out in Back There, and no man would ever know +what became of him, and there'd be nobody left to oppose us any +more. But we can't be safe any other way."</p> +<p>Neilson nodded slowly. His subordinate had put the matter +clearly; and there was truth in his words. In Ben's murder alone +lay their safety.</p> +<p>He had always been adverse to bloodshed; but further reluctance +meant ruin. Ben was one whom he could strike down without mercy or +regret. And the blow would not be for expediency alone. There would +be a personal debt to pay after the long months of searching. He +could not forget that Beatrice was helpless in his hands.</p> +<p>"The thing to do is to turn back with Chan, at once," he +said.</p> +<p>"Of course," Ray agreed. "That plan of yours to get help in +chasing 'em down don't go any more. We don't want any spectators +for what's ahead of us. Here's grub and horses a-plenty, and we +needn't lose any time."</p> +<p>So they turned back toward the Yuga, on their quest of hate.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXII"></a> +<h2>XXII</h2> +<p>Beatrice Neilson was a mountain girl, with the strong thews of +Jael, yet she hid her face as the canoe shot into the crest of the +rapids. It seemed incredible to her that the light craft should +buffet that wild cataract and yet live. She was young and she loved +life; and death seemed very near.</p> +<div class="figure" style="width: 450px;"><img src= +"images/ss002.jpg" height="586" width="400" alt= +"He was leaning forward, aware of nothing in the world but the forthcoming crisis."> +</div> +<br> +<p>The scene that her eyes beheld in that last little instant in +which the boat seemed to hang, shuddering, at the crest of the +descent was branded indelibly on her memory. She saw Ben's face, +set like iron, the muscles bunching beneath his flannel sleeves as +he set his paddle. He was leaning forward, aware of nothing in the +world but the forthcoming crisis. And in that swift flash of vision +she saw not only the steel determination and the brutal savagery of +the avenger. A little glimpse of the truth went home to her, and +she beheld something of the misdirected idealism of the man, the +intensity and steadfastness that were the dominant traits of his +nature. She could not doubt his belief in the reality of his cause. +Whether fancied or real the injury, deep wells of emotion in his +heart had broken their seals and flowed forth.</p> +<p>The wolf crouched on the heap of supplies, fearful to the depths +of his wild heart of this mighty stream, yet still putting his +faith in his master in the stern. Beatrice saw his wild, frightened +eyes as he gazed down into the frightful whirlpools. The banks +seemed to whip past.</p> +<p>Then the rushing waters caught the craft and seemed to fling it +into the air. There was the swift sense of lightning and incredible +movement, of such incalculable speed as that with which a meteor +blazes through the sky, and then a mighty surging, struggle; an +interminable instant of ineffable and stupendous conflict. The bow +dipped, split the foam; then the raging waters seized the craft +again, and with one great impulse hurled it through the clouds of +spray, down between the narrow portals of rocks.</p> +<p>Beatrice came to herself with the realization that she had +uttered a shrill cry. Part of the impulse behind it was simply +terror; but it was also the expression of an intensity of sensation +never before experienced. She could have understood, now, the lure +of the rapids to experienced canoeists. She forced herself to look +into the wild cataract.</p> +<p>The boat sped at an unbelievable pace. Ben held his paddle like +iron, yet with a touch as delicate as that of a great musician upon +piano keys, and he steered his craft to the last inch. His face was +still like metal, but the eyes, steely, vivid, and magnetic, had a +look of triumph. The first of the great tests had been passed.</p> +<p>Sudden confidence in Ben's ability to guide her through to +safety began to warm the girl's frozen heart. There were no places +more dangerous than that just past; and he had handled his craft +like a master. He was a voyageur: as long as his iron control was +sustained, as long as his nerve was strong and his eye true she had +every chance of coming out alive. But they had irremediably cast +their fortunes upon the river, now. They could not turn back. She +was in his whole charge, an agent of vengeance against her own +father and his confederates.</p> +<p>Hot, blinding tears suddenly filled her eyes. Her frantic fear +of the river had held them back for a time; but they flowed freely +enough now the first crisis was past. In utter misery and despair +her head bowed in her hands; and her brown hair, disheveled, +dropped down.</p> +<p>Ben gazed at her with a curious mingling of emotions. It had not +been part of his plan to bring sorrow to this girl. After all, she +was not in the least responsible for her father's crimes. He had +sworn to have no regrets, no matter what innocent flesh was +despoiled in order that he might strike the guilty; yet the sight +of that bowed, lovely head went home to him very deeply indeed. She +was the instrument of his vengeance, necessary to his cause, but +there was nothing to be gained by afflicting her needlessly. At +least, he could give her his pity. It would not weaken him, dampen +his fiery resolution, to give her that.</p> +<p>As he guided his craft he felt growing compassion for her; yet +it was a personal pity only and brought no regrets that he had +acted as he did.</p> +<p>"I wish you wouldn't cry," he said, rather quietly.</p> +<p>Amazed beyond expression at the words, Beatrice looked up. For +the instant her woe was forgotten in the astounding fact that she +had won compassion from this cast-iron man in the stern.</p> +<p>"I'll try not to," she told him, her dark eyes ineffably +beautiful with their luster of tears. "I don't see why I should +try—why I should try to do anything you ask me to—but +yet I will—"</p> +<p>Further words came to him, and he could not restrain them. +"You're sort of—the goat, Beatrice," he told her soberly. "It +was said, long ago, that the sins of the father must be visited +upon the children; and maybe that's the way it is with you. I can't +help but feel sorry—that you had to undergo this—so +that I could reach your father and his men. If you had seen old +Ezram lying there—the life gone from, his kind, gray old +face—the man who brought me home and gave me my one +chance—maybe you'd understand."</p> +<p>They were speechless a long time, Beatrice watching the swift +leap of the shore line, Ben guiding, with steady hand, the canoe. +Neither of them could guess at what speed they traveled this first +wild half-hour; but he knew that the long miles—so +heart-breaking with their ridges and brush thickets to men and +horses—were whipping past them each in a few, little breaths. +Ever they plunged deeper into the secret, hushed heart of the +wild—a land unknown to the tread of white men, a region so +still and changeless that it seemed excluded from the reign and law +of, time. The spruce grew here, straight and dark and tall, a +stalwart army whose measureless march no human eyes beheld. Already +they had come farther than a pack train could travel, through the +same region, in weary days.</p> +<p>Already they were at the border of Back There. They had cut the +last ties with the world of men. There were no trails here, leading +slowly but immutably to the busy centers of civilization; not a +blaze on a tree for the eyes of a woodsman riding on some forest +venture, not the ashes of a dead camp fire or a charred cooking +rack, where an Indian had broiled his caribou flesh. Except by the +slow process of exploration with pack horses, traveling a few miles +each day, fording unknown rivers and encircling impassable ranges, +or by waiting patiently until the fall rains swelled the river, +they might never leave this land they had so boldly entered. They +could not go out the way they had come—over those seething +waters—and the river, falling swiftly, would soon be too low +to permit them to push down to its lower waters where they might +find Indian encampments.</p> +<p>Nothing was left but the wilderness, ancient and unchanged. The +spruce forest had a depth and a darkness that even Ben had never +seen; the wild creatures that they sometimes glimpsed on the bank +stared at them wholly without knowledge as to what they were, and +likely amazed at the strength whereby they had braved this seething +torrent that swept through their sylvan home. Here was a land where +the grizzly had not yet learned of a might greater than his, where +he had not yet surrendered his sovereignty to man. Here the +moose—mightiest of the antlered herd—reached full +maturity and old age without ever mistaking the call of a +birch-bark horn for that of his rutting cow. Young bulls with only +a fifty-inch spread of horns and ten points on each did not lead +the herds, as in the more accessible provinces of the North. All +things were in their proper balance, since the forest had gone +unchanged for time immemorial; and as the head-hunters had not yet +come the bull moose did not rank as a full-grown warrior until he +wore thirty points and had five feet of spread, and he wasn't a +patriarch until he could no longer walk free between two tree +trunks seventy inches apart. Certain of the lesser forest people +were not in unwonted numbers because that fierce little hunter, the +marten, had been exterminated by trappers; the otter, yet to know +the feel of cold iron, fished to his heart's content in rivers +where an artificial fly had never fallen and the trout swarmed in +uncounted numbers in the pools.</p> +<p>Darting down the rapids Ben felt the beginnings of an exquisite +exhilaration. Part of it arose from the very thrill and excitement +of their headlong pace; but partly it had a deeper, more portentous +origin. Here was his own country—this Back There. While all +the spruce forest in which he had lived had been his natural range +and district—his own kind of land with which he felt close +and intimate relations—this was even more his home than his +own birthplace. By light of a secret quality, hard to recognize, he +was of it, and it was of him. He felt the joy of one who sees the +gleam of his own hearth through a distant window.</p> +<p>He <i>knew</i> this land; it was as if he had simply been away, +through the centuries, and had come home. The shadows and the +stillness had the exact depth and tone that was true and right; the +forest fragance was undefiled; the dark sky line was like something +he had dreamed come true. He felt a strange and growing excitement, +as if magnificent adventure were opening out before him. His gaze +fell, with a queer sense of understanding, to Fenris.</p> +<p>The wolf had recovered from his fear of the river, by now, and +he was crouched, alert and still, in his place. His gaze was fast +upon the shore line; and the green and yellow fires that mark the +beast were ablaze again in his eyes. Fenris too made instinctive +response to those breathless forests; and Ben knew that the bond +between them was never so close as now.</p> +<p>Fenris also knew that here was his own realm, the land in which +the great Fear had not yet laid its curse. The forest still +thronged with game, the wood trails would be his own. Here was the +motherland, not only to him but to his master, too. They were its +fierce children: one by breed, the other because he answered, to +the full, the call of the wild from which no man is wholly +immune.</p> +<p>Ben could have understood the wolf's growing exultation. The war +he was about to wage with Neilson. would be on his own ground, in a +land that enhanced and developed his innate, natural powers, and +where he had every advantage. The wolf does not run into the heart +of busy cities in pursuit of his prey. He tries to decoy it into +his own fastnesses.</p> +<p>A sudden movement on the part of Beatrice, in the bow of the +canoe, caught his eye. She had leaned forward and was reaching +among the supplies. His mind at once leaped to the box of shells +for her pistol that he had thrown among the duffle, but evidently +this was not the object of her search. She lifted into her hands a +paper parcel, the same she had brought from her cabin early that +morning.</p> +<p>He tried to analyze the curious mingling of emotions in her +face. It was neither white with disdain nor dark with wrath; and +the tears were gone from her eyes. Rather her expression was +speculative, pensive. Presently her eyes met his.</p> +<p>His heart leaped; why he did not know. "What is, it?" he +asked.</p> +<p>"Ben—I called you that yesterday and there's no use going +back to last names now—I've made an important decision."</p> +<p>"I hope it's a happy one," he ventured.</p> +<p>"It's as happy as it can be, under the circumstances. Ben, I +came of a line of frontiersmen—the forest people—and if +the woods teach one thing it is to make the best of any bad +situation."</p> +<p>Ben nodded. For all his long training he had not entirely +mastered this lesson himself, but he knew she spoke true.</p> +<p>"We've found out how hard Fate can hit—if I can make it +plain," she went on. "We've found out there are certain +powers—or devils—or something else, and what I don't +know—that are always lying in wait for people, ready to +strike them down. Maybe you would call it Destiny. But the Destiny +city men know isn't the Destiny we know out here—I don't have +to tell you that. We see Nature just as she is, without any gay +clothes, and we know the cruelty behind her smile, and the evil +plans behind her gentle words."</p> +<p>The man was amazed. Evidently the stress and excitement of the +morning had brought out the fanciful and poetic side of the girl's +nature.</p> +<p>"We don't look for good luck," she told him. "We don't expect to +live forever. We know what death is, and that it is sure to come, +and that misfortune comes always—in the snow and the cold and +the falling tree—and when we have good luck we're +glad—we don't take it for granted. Living up here, where life +is real, we've learned that we have to make the best of things in +order to be happy at all."</p> +<p>"And you mean—you're going to try to make the best of +<i>this</i>?" His voice throbbed ever so slightly, because he could +not hold it even.</p> +<p>"There's nothing else I can do," she replied. "You've taken me +here and as yet I don't see how I can get away. This doesn't mean +I've gone over to your side."</p> +<p>He nodded. He understood <i>that</i> very well.</p> +<p>"I'm just admitting that at present I'm in your +hands—helpless—and many long weeks in before us," she +went on. "I'm on my father's side, last and always, and I'll strike +back at you if the chance comes. Expect no mercy from me, in case I +ever see my way to strike."</p> +<p>The man's eyes suddenly gleamed. "Don't you know—that +you'd have a better chance of fighting me—if you didn't put +me on guard?"</p> +<p>"I don't think so. I don't believe you'd be fooled that easy. +Besides—I can't pretend to be a friend—when I'm really +an enemy."</p> +<p>For one significant instant the man looked down. This was what +he had done—pretended friendship when he was a foe. But his +was a high cause!</p> +<p>"I'm warning you that I'm against you to the last—and will +beat you if I see my way," the girl went on. "But at the same time +I'm going to make the best of a bad situation, and try to get all +the comfort I can. I'm in your hands at present, and we're foes, +but just the same we can talk, and try to make each other +comfortable so that we can be comfortable ourselves, and try not to +be any more miserable than we can help. I'm not going to cry any +more."</p> +<p>As she talked she was slowly unwrapping the little parcel she +had brought. Presently she held it out to him.</p> +<p>It was just a box of homemade candy—fudge made with sugar +and canned milk—that she had brought for their day's picnic. +But it was a peace offering not to be despised. A heavy load lifted +from Ben's heart.</p> +<p>He waited his chance, guiding the boat with care, and then +reached a brown hand. He crushed a piece of the soft, delicious +confection between his lips. "Thanks, Beatrice," he said. "I'll +remember all you've told me."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXIII"></a> +<h2>XXIII</h2> +<p>It is a peculiar fact that no one is more deeply moved by the +great works and phenomena of nature than those who live among them. +It is the visitor from distant cities, or the callow youth with +tawdry clothes and tawdry thoughts who disturbs the great silences +and austerity of majestic scenes with half-felt effusive words or +cheap impertinences. Oddly enough, the awe that the wilderness +dweller knows at the sight of some great, mysterious canyon or +towering peak seems to increase, rather than decrease, with +familiarity. His native scenes never grow old to him. Their beauty +and majesty is eternal.</p> +<p>Perhaps the reason lies in the fact that the native woodsman +knows nature as she really is: living ever close to her he knows +her power over his life. Perhaps there is a religious side to the +matter, too. In the solitudes the religious instincts receive an +impulse that is impossible to those who know only the works of man. +The religion that this gives is true and deep, and the eye +instinctively lifts in reverence to the manifestations of divine +might.</p> +<p>When the swirling waters carried the canoe down into the gorge +of the Yuga both Ben and Beatrice were instinctively awed and +stilled. Ever the walls of the gorge grew more steep, until the +sunlight was cut off and they rode as if in twilight. The stone of +the precipices presented a marvellous array of color; and the +spruce, almost black in the subdued light, stood in startling +contrast. Ben saw at once that even were they able to land they +could not—until they had emerged from the gorge—climb +to the highlands. A mountain goat, most hardy of all mountaineers, +could scarcely scale the abrupt wall.</p> +<p>During this time of half-light they saw none of the larger +forest creatures that at first had gazed at them with such wonder +from the banks. The reason was simply that they could not descend +and ascend the steep walls.</p> +<p>Mostly Ben had time only for an occasional glimpse at the +colossus above him. His work was to guide the craft between the +perilous boulders. Occasionally the river slackened its wild pace, +and at such times he stretched his arms and rested his straining +eyes.</p> +<p>Both had largely forgotten the danger of the ride. Because she +was trying bravely to make the best of a tragic situation Beatrice +had resolved to keep danger from her thoughts. Ben had known from +the first that danger was an inevitable element in his venture, and +he accepted it just as he had considered it,—with entire +coldness. Yet both of them knew, in their secret thoughts, that the +balance of life and death was so fine that the least minor incident +might cast them into darkness. It would not have to be a great +disaster, a wide departure from the commonplace. They were +traveling at a terrific rate of speed, and a sharp rock too close +to the surface would rip the bottom from their craft. Any instant +might bring the shock and shudder of the end.</p> +<p>There would scarcely be time to be afraid. Both would be hurled +into the stream; and the wild waters, pounding against the rocks, +would close the matter swiftly. It awed them and humbled them to +realize with what dispatch and ease this wilderness power could +snuff out their mortal lives. There would be no chance to fight +back, no element of uncertainty in the outcome. Here was a destiny +against which the strength of man was as thistledown in the wind! +The thought was good spiritual medicine for Ben, just as it would +have been for most other men, and his egoism died a swift and +natural death.</p> +<p>One crash, one shock, and then the darkness and silence of the +end! The river would rage on, unsatiated by their few pounds of +flesh, storming by in noble fury; but no man would know whither +they had gone and how they had died. The walls of the gorge would +not tremble one whit, or notice; and the spruce against the sky +would not bow their heads to show that they had seen.</p> +<p>But the canyon broke at last, and the craft emerged into the +sunlight. It was good to see the easy slope of the hills again, the +spruce forests, and the forms of the wild creatures on the river +bank, startled by their passing. Noon came and passed, and for +lunch they ate the last of the fudge. And now a significant change +was manifest in both of them.</p> +<p>Psychologists are ever astounded at the ability of mortals, men +and animals, to become adjusted to any set of circumstances. The +wax of habit sets almost in a day. The truth was, that in a certain +measure with very definite and restricted limits, both Ben and +Beatrice were becoming adjusted even to this amazing situation in +which they found themselves. This did not mean that Beatrice was in +the least degree reconciled to it. She had simply accepted it with +the intention of making the best of it. She had been abducted by an +enemy of her father and was being carried down an unknown and +dangerous river; but the element of surprise, the life of which is +never but a moment, was already passing away. Sometimes she caught +herself with a distinct start, remembering everything with a rage +and a bitter load on her heart; but the mood would pass +quickly.</p> +<p>It is impossible, through any ordinary change of fortune, for a +normal person to lose his sense of self-identity. As long as that +remains exterior conditions can make no vital change, or make him +feel greatly different than he felt before. The change from a +peasant to a millionaire brings only a moment's surprise, and then +readjustment. Beatrice was still herself; the man in the stern +remained Ben Darby and no one else. Very naturally she began to +talk to him, and he to answer her.</p> +<p>The fact that they were bitter foes, one the victim of the +other, did not decree they could not have friendly conversation, +isolated as they were. From time to time Ben pointed out objects of +interest on the shore; and she found herself remarking, in a casual +voice, about them. And before the afternoon he had made her laugh, +in spite of herself,—a gay sound in which fear and distress +had little echo.</p> +<p>"We're bound to see a great deal of each other in the next few +weeks," he had said; and this fact could not be denied. The sooner +both became adjusted to it the better. Actual fear of him she had +none; she remembered only too well the steel in his eyes and the +white flame on his cheeks as he had assured her of her safety.</p> +<p>In mid-afternoon Ben began to think of making his night's camp. +From time to time the bank became an upright precipice where not +even a tree could find foothold; and it had occurred to him, with +sudden vividness, that he did not wish the darkness to overtake him +in such a place. The river rocks would make short work of him, in +that case. It was better to pick out a camp site in plenty of time +lest they could not find one at the day's end.</p> +<p>In one of the more quiet stretches of water he saw the +place—a small cove and a green, tree-clad bank, with the +gorge rising behind. Handling his canoe with greatest care he +slanted toward it. A moment later he had caught the brush at the +water's edge, stepped off into shallow water, and was drawing the +canoe up onto the bank.</p> +<p>"We're through for the day," he said happily, as he helped +Beatrice out of the boat. "I'll confess I'm ready to rest."</p> +<p>Beatrice made no answer because her eyes were busy. Coolly and +quietly she took stock of the situation, trying to get an idea of +the geographical features of the camp site. She saw in a glance, +however, that there was no path to freedom up the gorge behind her. +The rocks were precipitate: besides, she remembered that over a +hundred miles of impassable wilderness lay between her and her +father's cabin. Without food and supplies she could not hope to +make the journey.</p> +<p>The racing river, however, wakened a curious, inviting train of +thought. The torrent continued largely unabated for at least one +hundred miles more, she knew, and the hours that it would be +passable in a canoe were numbered. The river had fallen steadily +all day; driftwood was left on the shore; rocks dried swiftly in +the sun, cropping out like fangs above the foam of the stream. Was +there still time to drift on down the Yuga a hundred or more miles +to the distant Indian encampment? She shut the thought from her +mind, at present, and turned her attention to the work of making +camp.</p> +<p>With entire good humor she began to gather such pieces of dead +wood as she could find for their fire.</p> +<p>"Your prisoner might as well make herself useful," she said.</p> +<p>Ben's face lighted as she had not seen it since their outward +journey from Snowy Gulch. "Thank God you're taking it that way, +Beatrice," he told her fervently. "It was a proposition I couldn't +help—"</p> +<p>But the girl's eyes flashed, and her lips set in a hard line. +"I'm doing it to make my own time go faster," she told him softly, +rather slowly. "I want you to remember that."</p> +<p>But instantly both forgot their words to listen to a familiar +clucking sound from a near-by shrub. Peering closely they made out +the plump, genial form of Franklin's grouse,—a bird known far +and wide in the north for her ample breast and her tender +flesh.</p> +<p>"Good Lord, there's supper!" Ben whispered. "Beatrice, get your +pistol—"</p> +<p>Her eyes smiled as she looked him in the face. "You +remember—my pistol isn't loaded!"</p> +<p>"Excuse me. I forgot. Give it to me."</p> +<p>She handed him the little gun, and he slipped in the shells he +had taken from it. Then—for the simple and sensible reason +that he didn't want to take any chance on the loss of their +dinner—he stole within twenty feet of the bird. Very +carefully he drew down on the plump neck.</p> +<p>"Dinner all safe," he remarked rather gayly, as the grouse came +tumbling through the branches.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXIV"></a> +<h2>XXIV</h2> +<p>Quietly Beatrice retrieved the bird and began to remove its +feathers. Ben built the fire, chopped sturdily at a half-grown +spruce until it shattered to the earth, and then chopped it into +lengths for fuel. When the fire was blazing bright, he cut away the +green branches and laid them, stems overlapping, into a fragrant +bed.</p> +<p>"Here's where you sleep to-night, Beatrice," he informed +her.</p> +<p>She stopped in her work long enough to try the springy boughs +with her arms; then she gave him an answering smile. Even a +tenderfoot can make some sort of a comfortable pallet out of +evergreen boughs—ends overlapping and plumes bent—but a +master woodsman can fashion a veritable cradle, soft as silk with +never a hard limb to irritate the flesh, and yielding as a hair +mattress. Such softness, with the fragrance of the balsam like a +sleeping potion, can not help but bring sweet dreams.</p> +<p>Ben had been wholly deliberate in the care with which he had +built the pallet. He had simply come to the conclusion that she was +paying a high price for her father's sins; and from now on he +intended to make all things as easy as he could for her. Moreover, +she had been a sportswoman of the rarest breed and merited every +kindness he could do for her.</p> +<p>He was not half so careful with his own bed, built sixty feet on +the opposite side of the fire. He threw it together rather hastily. +And when he walked back to the fire he found an amazing change.</p> +<p>Already Beatrice had established sovereignty over the little +patch of ground they had chosen for the camp,—and the +wilderness had drawn back. This spot was no longer mere part of the +far-spreading, trackless wilds. It had been set off and marked so +that the wilderness creatures could no longer mistake it for part +of their domain. Over the fire she had erected a cooking rack; and +water was already boiling in a small bucket suspended from it. In +another container a fragrant mixture was in the process of cooking. +She had spread one of the blankets on the grass for a +tablecloth.</p> +<p>As twilight lowered they sat down to their simple +meal,—tea, sweetened with sugar, and vegetables and meat +happily mingled in a stew. It was true that the vegetable end was +held up by white grains of rice alone, but the meat was the white, +tender flesh of grouse, permeating the entire dish with its +tempting flavor. As a whole, the stew was greatly satisfying to the +inner man.</p> +<p>"I wish I'd brought more tea," Ben complained, as he sipped that +most delightful of all drinks, the black tea beloved of the +northern men.</p> +<p>"You a woodsman, and don't know how to remedy that!" the girl +responded. "I know of a native substitute that's almost as good as +the real article."</p> +<p>About the embers of the fire they sat and watched the tremulous +wings of night close round them. The copse grew breathless. The +distant trees blended into shadow, the nearer trunks dimmed and +finally faded; the large, white northern stars emerged in infinite +troops and companies, peering down through the rifts in the trees. +Here about their fire they had established the domain of man. For a +few short hours they had routed the forces of the wilderness; but +the foe pressed close upon them. Just at the fluctuating ring of +firelight he waited, clothed in darkness and mystery,—the +infinite, brooding spirit of the ancient forest.</p> +<p>They had never known such silence, broken only by the prolonged +chord of the river, as descended upon them now. It was new and +strange to the conscious life of Ben, himself, the veritable +offspring of the woods; although infinitely old and familiar to a +still, watching, secret self within him. It was as if he had +searched forever for this place and had just found it, and it +answered, to the full, a queer mood of silence in his own heart. +The wind had died down now. The last wail of a +coyote—disconsolate on a far-away ridge—had trembled +away into nothingness; the voices of the Little People who had +chirped and rustled in the tree aisles during the daylight hours +were stilled with a breathless, dramatic stillness. Such sound as +remained over the interminable breadth of that dark forest was only +the faint stirrings and rustlings of the beasts of prey going to +their hunting; and this was only a moving tone in the great chord +of silence.</p> +<p>To Ben the falling night brought a return of his most terrible +moods. Beatrice sensed them in his pale, set face and his cold, +wolfish eyes. The wolf sat beside him, swept by his master's mood, +gazing with deadly speculations into the darkness. Beatrice saw +them as one breed to-night. The wild had wholly claimed this +repatriated son. The paw of the Beast was heavy upon him; the +softening influences of civilization seemed wholly dispelled. There +was little here to remind her that this was the twentieth century. +The primitive that lies just under the skin in all men was in the +ascendancy; and there was little indeed to distinguish him from the +hunter of long ago, a grizzled savage at the edge of the ice who +chased the mammoth and wild pony, knowing no home but the forest +and no gentleness unknown to the wolf that ran at his heels.... The +tenderness and sympathy he had had for her earlier that day seemed +quite gone now. She searched for it in vain in the dark and savage +lines of his pale face.</p> +<p>Because it has always been that the happiness of women must +depend upon the mood of men, her own spirits fell. The despair that +descended upon her brought also resentment and rage; and soon she +slipped away quietly to her bed. She drew the blankets over her +face; but no tears wet her cheeks to-night. She was dry-eyed, +thoughtful—full of vague plans.</p> +<p>She lay awake a long time, until at last a little, faint ray of +hope beamed bright and clear. More than a hundred miles farther +down the Yuga, past the mouth of Grizzly River, not far from the +great, north-flowing stream of which the Yuga was a tributary, lay +an Indian village—and if only she could reach it she might +enlist the aid of the natives and make a safe return, by a long, +roundabout route, to her father's arms. The plan meant deliverance +from Ben and the defeat of all his schemes of +vengeance,—perhaps the salvation of her father and his +subordinates.</p> +<p>She realized perfectly the reality of her father's danger. She +had read the iron resolve in Ben's face. She knew that if she +failed to make an immediate escape from him, all his dreadful plans +were likely to succeed: his enemies would follow him into the +unexplored mazes of Back There to effect her rescue and fall +helpless in his trap. What quality of mercy he would extend to them +then she could readily guess.</p> +<p>Just to get down to the Indian village: this was her whole +problem. But it was Ben's plan to land and enter the interior +somewhere in the vast wilderness between, from which escape could +not be made until the flood waters of fall. The way would remain +open but a few hours more, due to the simple fact that the waters +were steadily falling and the river-bottom crags, forming +impassable barriers at some points, would be exposed. <i>If she +made her escape at all it must be soon.</i></p> +<p>Yet she could not attempt it at night. She could not see to +guide the canoe while the darkness lay over the river. Just one +further chance remained—to depart in the first gray of +dawn.</p> +<p>She fell into troubled sleep, but true to her resolution, +wakened when the first ribbon of light stretched along the eastern +horizon. She sat up, laying the blankets back with infinite care. +This was her chance: Ben still lay asleep.</p> +<p>Just to steal down to the water's edge, push off the canoe, and +trust her life to the doubtful mercy of the river. The morning soon +would break; if she could avoid the first few crags, she had every +chance to guide her craft through to deliverance and safety. By no +conceivable chance could Ben follow her. He would be left in the +shadow of the gorge, a prisoner without hope or prayer of +deliverance. There was no crossing the cliffs that lifted so stern +and gray just behind. Before he could build any kind of a craft +with axe and fire, the waters would fall to a death level, beyond +any hope of carrying him to safety. The tables would be turned; he +would be left as helpless to follow her as Neilson had been to +follow him.</p> +<p>The plan meant deliverance for her; but surely it meant +<i>death</i> to him. Starvation would drive him to the river and +destruction, before men could ever come the long way to rescue him. +But this was not her concern. She was a forest girl and he her +enemy: he must pay the price for his own deeds.</p> +<p>She got to her feet, stalking with absolute silence. She must +not waken him now. Softly she pressed her unshod foot into the +grass. He stirred in his sleep; and she paused, scarcely +breathing.</p> +<p>She looked toward him. Dimly she could see his face, tranquil in +sleep and gray in the soft light; and an instantaneous surge of +remorse sped through her. There was a sweetness, a hint of kindly +boyishness in his face now, so changed since she had left him +beside the glowing coals. Yet he was her deadly enemy; and she must +not let her woman's heart cost her her victory in its moment of +fulfillment. She crept on down to the water.</p> +<p>She could discern the black shadow of the canoe. One swift surge +of her shoulders, one leap, the splash of the stern in the water +and the swift stroke of the paddle, and she would be safe. She +stepped nearer.</p> +<p>But at that instant a subdued note of warning froze her in her +tracks. It was only a small sound, hushed and hardly sharp enough +to arouse Ben from his sleep; but it was deadly, savage, +unutterably sinister. She had forgotten that Ben did not wage war +alone. For the moment she had given no thought to his terrible +ally,—a pack brother faithful to the death.</p> +<p>A great, gaunt form raised up from the pile of duffle in the +canoe; and his fangs showed ivory white in the wan light. It was +Fenris, and he guarded the canoe. He crouched, ready to spring if +she drew near.</p> +<p>The girl sobbed once, then stole back to her blankets.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXV"></a> +<h2>XXV</h2> +<p>Ben wakened refreshed, at peace with the world as far as he +could ever be until his ends were attained; and immediately built a +roaring fire. Beatrice still slept, exhausted from the stress and +suspense of her attempt to escape. When the leaping flames had +dispelled the frost from the grass about the fire Ben stepped to +her side and touched her shoulder.</p> +<p>"It's time to get up and go on," he said. "We have only a few +hours more of travel."</p> +<p>It was true. The river had fallen appreciably during the night. +Not many hours remained in which to make their permanent landing. +Although the river was somewhat less violent from this point on, +the lower water line would make traveling practically as perilous +as on the preceding day.</p> +<p>The girl opened her eyes. "I'd rather hoped—I had dreamed +it all," she told him miserably.</p> +<p>The words touched him. He looked into her face, moved by the +girlishness and appeal about the red, wistful mouth and the dark, +brimming eyes. "It's pretty tough, but I'm afraid it's true," he +said, more kindly than he had spoken since they had left the +landing. "Do you want me to cook breakfast and bring it to you +here?"</p> +<p>"No, I want to do that part myself. It makes the time pass +faster to have something to do."</p> +<p>He went to look for fresh meat, and she slipped into her outer +garments. She found water already hot in a bucket suspended from +the cooking rack, permitting a simple but refreshing toilet. With +Ben's comb she straightened out the snarls in her dark tresses, +parted them, and braided them into two dusky ropes to be worn +Indian fashion in front of her shoulders. Then she prepared the +meal.</p> +<p>It was a problem to tax the ingenuity of any +housekeeper,—to prepare an appetizing breakfast out of such +limited supplies. But in this art, particularly, the forest girls +are trained. A quantity of rice had been left from the stew of the +preceding night, and mixing it with flour and water and salt, she +made a batter. Sooner or later fresh fat could be obtained from +game to use in frying: to-day she saw no course other than to melt +a piece of candle. The reverberating roar of the rifle a hundred +yards down the river bank, however, suggested another +alternative.</p> +<p>A moment later Ben appeared—and the breakfast problem was +solved. It was another of the woods people that his rifle had +brought down,—one that wore fur rather than feathers and +which had just come in from night explorations along the river +bank. It was a yearling black bear—really no larger than a +cub—and he had an inch of fat under his furry hide.</p> +<p>The fat he yielded was not greatly different from lard; and the +pancakes—or fritters, as Ben termed them—were soon +frying merrily. Served with hot tea they constituted a filling and +satisfactory breakfast for both travelers.</p> +<p>After breakfast they took to the river, yielding themselves once +more to the whims of the current. Once more the steep banks whipped +past them in ever-changing vista; and Ben had to strain at his +paddle to guide the craft between the perilous crags. The previous +day the high waters had carried them safely above the boulders of +the river bed: to-day some of the larger crags all but scraped the +bottom of the canoe. It did not tend toward peace of mind to know +that any instant they might encounter a submerged crag that would +rip their craft in twain. Ben felt a growing eagerness to land.</p> +<p>But within an hour they came out once more upon the open forest. +The river broadened, sped less swiftly, the bank sloped gradually +to the distant hills. This was the heart of Back There,—a +virgin and primeval forest unchanged since the piling-up of the +untrodden ranges. The wild pace of the craft was checked, and they +kept watch for a suitable place to land.</p> +<p>There was no need to push on through the seething cataracts that +lay still farther below. Shortly before the noon hour Ben's quick +eye saw a break in the heavy brushwood that lined the bank and +quickly paddled toward it. In a moment it was revealed as the +mouth, of a small, clear stream, flowing out of a beaver meadow +where the grass was rank and high. In a moment more he pushed the +canoe into the mud of the creek bank.</p> +<p>They both got out, rather sober of mien, and she helped him haul +the canoe out upon the bank. They unloaded it quickly, carrying the +supplies in easy loads fifty yards up into the edge of the forest, +on well-drained dry ground.</p> +<p>The entire forest world was hushed and breathless, as if +startled by this intrusion. Neither of the two travelers felt +inclined to speak. And the silence was finally broken by the +splashing feet of a moose, running through a little arm of the +marsh that the forest hid from view.</p> +<p>"Is this our permanent camp?" the girl asked at last.</p> +<p>"Surely not," was the reply. "It's too near the river for one +thing—too easily found. It's too low, too—there'll be +mosquitoes in plenty in that marsh two months from now. The first +thing is—to look around and find a better site."</p> +<p>"You want me to come?"</p> +<p>"I'd rather, if you don't mind."</p> +<p>She understood perfectly. He did not intend to give her complete +freedom until the river fell so low that the rapids farther down +would be wholly impassable.</p> +<p>"I'll come." Beatrice smiled grimly. "We can have that picnic we +planned, after all."</p> +<p>They found a moose trail leading into the forest, and leaving +the wolf on guard over the supplies, they filed swiftly along it in +that peculiar, shuffling, mile-speeding gait that all foresters +learn. At once both were aware of a subdued excitement. In the +first place, this was unknown country and they experienced the +incomparable thrill of exploration. Besides they were seeking a +permanent camp where their fortunes would be cast, the drama of +their lives be enacted, for weeks to come.</p> +<p>Almost at once they began to catch glimpses of wild +life,—a squirrel romping on a limb; or a long line of grouse, +like children in school, perched on a fallen log. The trapper had +not yet laid his lines in this land, and the tracks of the little +fur-bearers weaved a marvelous and intricate pattern on the moose +trail. Once a marten with orange throat peered at them from a +covert, and once a caribou raced away, too fast for a shot.</p> +<p>Mostly the wild things showed little fear or understanding of +the two humans. The grouse relied on their protective coloration, +just as when menaced by the beasts of prey. An otter, rarely indeed +seen in daylight, hovered a moment beside a little stream to +consider them; and a coyote, greatest of all cowards, lingered in +their trail until they were within fifty feet of his grey form, +then trotted shyly away.</p> +<p>"We won't starve for meat, that's certain," Ben informed her. +His voice was subdued; he had fallen naturally into the mood of +quietness that dwells ever in the primeval forest.</p> +<p>Because the trail seemed to be leading them too far from the +waterways, they took a side trail circling about a wooded hill. +Ever Ben studied the landmarks, looked carefully down the draws and +tried to learn as much as possible of the geography of the country; +and Beatrice understood his purpose with entire clearness. He +wished to locate his camp so that it would have every natural +advantage and insurance against surprise attack. He desired that +every advantage of warfare be in his favor when finally he came to +grips with Neilson and his men.</p> +<p>They crossed a low ridge, following down another of the thousand +creeks that water the northern lands. In a moment it led them to a +long, narrow lake, blue as a sapphire in its frame of dusky +spruce.</p> +<p>For a moment both of them halted on its bank, held by its virgin +beauty. Lost in the solitudes as it was, perhaps never before gazed +upon by the eyes of men, still it gave no impression of bleakness +and stagnation. Rather it was a scene of scintillating life, vivid +past all expression. Far out of range on the opposite shore a huge +bull moose stood like a statue in black marble, gazing out over the +shimmering expanse. Trout leaped, flashing silver, anywhere they +might look; and a flock of loon shrieked demented cries from its +center. The burnished wings of a flock of mallard flashed in the +air, startled by some creeping hunter.</p> +<p>Slowly, delighted in spite of themselves by the lovely spot, +they followed along its shore. They climbed the bank; and now Ben +began to examine his surroundings with great care.</p> +<p>He had suddenly realized that he was in a region wonderfully +fitted for his permanent camp. The low ridge between the lake and +the creek gave a clear view of a large part of the surrounding +country, affording him every chance of seeing his enemies before +they saw him. If they came along the river—the course they +would naturally follow—they would be obliged to cross the +beaver marsh—a half-mile of open grassland with no protecting +coverts. Beatrice saw, dismayed, that his gray eyes were kindling +with unholy fire under his heavy, dark brows.</p> +<p>What if he should see them, deep in the wet grass, filing across +the open marsh! How many shots would be needed to bring his war to +a triumphant end? There were no thickets in which they might find +shelter: hidden himself, they could not return his fire. Before +they could break and run to cover he could destroy them all!</p> +<p>Should they cross the narrow neck of the marsh, higher up, he +would have every chance to see them on the lake shore. The site was +good from the point of health and comfort—high enough to +escape the worst of the insect pests, close to fresh water, plenty +of fuel, and within a few hundred yards of a lake that simply +swarmed with fish and waterfowl.</p> +<p>Still following a narrow, racing trout stream that flowed into +the lake they advanced a short distance farther, clear to the base +of a rock wall. And all at once Beatrice, walking in front, drew up +with a gasp.</p> +<p>She stood at the edge of a little glade, perhaps thirty yards +across, laying at the base of the cliff. The creek flowed through +it, the grass was green and rich, beloved by the antlered herds +that came to graze, the tall spruce shaded it on three sides. But +it was not these things that caught the girl's eye. Just at the +edge of a glade a dark hole yawned in the face of the cliff.</p> +<p>In an instant more they were beside it, gazing into its depths. +It was a natural cavern with rock walls and a clean floor of +sand—a roomy place, and yet a perfect stronghold against +either mortal enemies or the powers of wind and rain.</p> +<p>"It's home," the man said simply.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXVI"></a> +<h2>XXVI</h2> +<p>Ben and Beatrice went together back to the canoe, and in two +trips they carried the supplies to the cave. By instinct a +housekeeper, Beatrice showed him where to stow the various +supplies, what part of the cave was to be used for provisions, +where their cots would be laid, and where to erect the cooking +rack. Shadows had fallen over the land before they finished the +work.</p> +<p>Tired from the hard tramp, yet sustained by a vague excitement +neither of them could name or trace, they began to prepare for the +night. Ben cut boughs as before, placing Beatrice's bed within the +portals of the cave and his own on the grass outside. He cut fuel +and made his fire: Beatrice prepared the evening meal.</p> +<p>The flesh of the cub-bear they had procured that morning would +have to serve them to-night; but more delicious meat could be +procured to-morrow. Ben knew that the white-maned caribou fed in +the high park lands. Beatrice made biscuits and brewed tea; and +they ate the simple food in the firelight. Already the darkness was +pressing close upon them, tremulous, vaguely sinister, inscrutably +mysterious.</p> +<p>They had talked gayly at first; but they grew silent as the fire +burned down to coals. A great preoccupation seemed to hold them +both. When one spoke the other started, and word did not +immediately come in answer. Beatrice's despair was not nearly so +dominating to-night; and Ben harbored a secret excitement that was +almost happiness.</p> +<p>Its source and origin Ben could not trace. Perhaps it was just +relief that the perilous journey was over. The strain of his hours +at the paddle had been severe; but now they were safe upon the +sustaining earth. Yet this fact alone could hardly have given him +such a sense of security,—an inner comfort new to his +adventurous life.</p> +<p>The forest was oppressive to-night, tremulous with the passions +of the Young World; yet he did not respond to it as before. The +excitement that sparkled in the red wine of his veins was not of +the chase and death, and he had difficulty in linking it up with +the thoughts of his forthcoming vengeance. Rather it was a mood +that sprang from their surroundings here, their shelter at the +mouth of the cave. He felt deeply at peace.</p> +<p>The fire blazed warmly at the cavern maw; the wolf stood tense +and still, by means of the secret wireless of the wild fully aware +of the tragic drama, the curtain of which was the dark just fallen; +yet Ben's wild, bitter thoughts of the preceding night did not come +readily back to him. There was a quality here—in the +firelight and the haven of the cave—that soothed him and +comforted him. The powers of the wild were helpless against him +now. The wind might hurl down the dead trees, but the rock of the +cavern Wall would stand against them. Even the dreaded avalanche +could roar and thunder on the steep above in vain.</p> +<p>There was no peril in the hushed, breathless forest for him +to-night. This was his stronghold, and none could assail it. And it +was a significant fact that his sense of intimate relationship with +the wolf, Fenris, Was someway lessened. Fenris was a creature of +the open forest, sleeping where he chose on the trail; but his +master had found a cavern home. There was a strange and bridgeless +chasm between such breeds as roamed abroad and those that slept, +night after night, in the shelter of the same walls.</p> +<p>He watched the girl's face, ruddy in the firelight, and it was +increasingly hard to remember that she was of the enemy +camp,—the daughter of his arch foe. To-night she was just a +comrade, a habitat of his own cave.</p> +<p>For the first time since he had found Ezram's body—so +huddled and impotent in the dead leaves—he remembered the +solace of tobacco. He hunted through his pockets, found his pipe +and a single tin of the weed, and began to inhale the fragrant, +peace-giving smoke. When he raised his eyes again he found the girl +studying him with intent gaze.</p> +<p>She looked away, embarrassed, and he spoke to put her at ease. +"You are perfectly comfortable, Beatrice?" he asked gently.</p> +<p>"As good as I could expect—considering everything. I'm +awfully relieved that we're off the water."</p> +<p>"Of course." He paused, looking away into the tremulous shadows. +"Is that all? Don't you feel something else, too—a kind of +satisfaction?"</p> +<p>The coals threw their lurid glow on her lovely, deeply tanned +face. "It's for you to feel satisfaction, not me. You couldn't +expect me to feel very satisfied—taken from my home—as +a hostage—in a feud with my father. But I think I know what +you mean. You mean—the comfort of the fire, and a place to +stay."</p> +<p>"That's it. Of course."</p> +<p>"I feel it—but every human being does who has a fire when +this big, northern night comes down and takes charge of things. +It's just an instinct, I suppose, a comfort and a feeling of +safety—and likely only the wild beasts are exempt from it." +Her voice changed and softened, as her girlish fancy reached ever +farther. "I suppose the first men that you were telling me about on +the way out, the hairy men of long ago, felt the same way when the +cold drove them to their caves for the first time. A great comfort +in the protecting walls and the fire."</p> +<p>"It's an interesting thought—that perhaps the love of home +sprang from that hour."</p> +<p>"Quite possibly. Perhaps it came only when they had to fight for +their homes—against beasts, and such other hairy men as tried +to take their homes away from them. Perhaps, after all, that's one +of the great differences between men and beasts. Men have a place +to live in and a place to fight for—and the fire is the +symbol of it all. And the beasts run in the forest and make a new +lair every day."</p> +<p>Thoughts of the stone age were wholly fitting in this stone-age +forest, and Ben's fancy caught on fire quickly. "And perhaps, when +the hairy men came to the caves to live, they forgot their wild +passions they knew on the open trails—their blood-lust and +their wars among themselves—and began to be men instead of +beasts." Ben's voice had dropped to an even, low murmur. "Perhaps +they got gentle, and the Brute died in their bodies."</p> +<p>"Yes. Perhaps then they began to be tamed."</p> +<p>The silence dropped about them, settling slowly; and all except +the largest heap of red coals burned down to gray ashes. The +darkness pressed ever nearer. The girl stretched her slender, brown +arms.</p> +<p>"I'm sleepy," she said. "I'm going in."</p> +<p>He got up, with good manners; and he smiled, quietly and gently, +into her sober, wistful face. "Sleep good," he prayed. "You've got +solid walls around you to-night—and some one on guard, too. +Good night."</p> +<p>A like good wish was on her lips, but she pressed it back. She +had almost forgotten, for the moment, that this man was her +abductor and her father's enemy. She ventured into the darkness of +the cave.</p> +<p>Scratching a match Ben followed her, so that she could see her +way. For the instant the fireside was deserted. And then both of +them grew breathless and alert as the brush cracked and rustled +just beyond the glowing coals.</p> +<p>Some huge wilderness creature was venturing toward them, at the +edge of the little glade.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXVII"></a> +<h2>XXVII</h2> +<p>The match flared out in Ben's fingers, and the only light that +was left was the pale moonlight, like a cobweb on the floor of the +glade, and the faint glow from the dying fire. About the glade +ranged the tall spruce, Watching breathlessly; and for a termless +second or two a profound and portentous silence descended on the +camp. No leaf rustled, not a tree limb cracked. The creature that +had pushed through the thickets to the edge of the glade was +evidently standing motionless, deciding on his course.</p> +<p>Only the wild things seem to know what complete absence of +motion means. To stand like a form in rock, not a muscle quivering +or a hair stirring, is never a feat for ragged, over stretched +human nerves; and it requires a perfect muscle control that is +generally only known to the beasts of the forest. Only a few times +in a lifetime in human beings are the little, outward motions +actually suspended; perhaps under the paralysis of great terror or, +with painstaking effort, before a photographer's camera. But with +the beasts it is an everyday accomplishment necessary to their +survival. The fawn that can not stand absolutely motionless, his +dappled skin blending perfectly with the background of shrubbery +shot with sunlight, comes to an end quickly in the fangs of some +great beast of prey. The panther that can not lurk, not a muscle +quivering, in his ambush beside the deer trail, never knows full +feeding. The creature on the opposite side of the glade seemed as +bereft of motion as the spruce trees in the moonlight, or the cliff +above the cave.</p> +<p>"What is it?" Beatrice whispered. The man's eyes strained into +the gloom.</p> +<p>"I don't know. It may be just a moose, or maybe a caribou. But +it may be—"</p> +<p>He tiptoed to the door of the cave, and his eye fell to the +crouching form of Fenris. The creature outside was neither moose +nor caribou. The great wolf of the North does not stand at bay to +the antlered people. He was poised to spring, his fangs bared and +his fierce eyes hot with fire, but he was not hunting. Whatever +moved in the darkness without, the wolf had no desire to go forth +and attack. Perhaps he would fight to the death to protect the +occupants of the cave; but surely an ancient and devastating fear +had hold of him. Evidently he recognized the intruder as an +ancestral enemy that held sovereignty over the forest.</p> +<p>At that instant Ben leaped through the cavern maw to reach his +gun. There was nothing to be gained by waiting further. This was a +savage and an uninhabited land; and the great beasts of prey that +ranged the forest had not yet learned the restraint born of the +fear of man. And he knew one breathless instant of panic when his +eye failed to locate the weapon in the faint light of the fire.</p> +<p>Holding hard, he tried to remember where he had left it. The +form across the glade was no longer motionless. Straining, Ben saw +the soft roll of a great shadow, almost imperceptible in the +gloom—advancing slowly toward him. Then the faint glow of the +fire caught and reflected in the creature's eyes.</p> +<p>They suddenly glowed out in the half-darkness, two rather small +circles of dark red, close together and just alike. This night +visitor was not moose or caribou, or was it one of the lesser +hunters, lynx or wolverine, or a panther wandered far from his +accustomed haunts. The twin circles were too far above the ground. +And whatever it was, no doubt remained but that the creature was +steadily stalking him across the soft grass.</p> +<p>At that instant Ben's muscles snapped into action. Only a second +remained in which to make his defense—the creature had +paused, setting his muscles for a death-dealing charge. "Go back +into the cave—as far as you can," he said swiftly to +Beatrice. His own eyes, squinted and straining for the last iota of +vision in that darkened scene, made a last, frantic search for his +rifle. Suddenly he saw the gleam of its barrel as it rested against +the wall of the cliff, fifteen feet distant.</p> +<p>At once he knew that his only course was to spring for it in the +instant that remained, and trust to its mighty shocking power to +stop the charge that would in a moment ensue. Yet it seemed to tear +the life fiber of the man to do it. His inmost instincts, urgent +and loud in his ear, told him to remain on guard, not to leave that +cavern maw for an instant but to protect with his own body the +precious life that it sheltered. His mind worked with that +incredible speed that is usually manifest in a crisis; and he knew +that the creature might charge into the cavern entrance in the +second that he left it. Yet only in the rifle lay the least chance +or hope for either of them.</p> +<p>"At him, Fenris!" he shouted. The wolf leaped forward like a +thrown spear,—almost too fast for the eye to follow. He was +deathly afraid, with full knowledge of the power of the enemy he +went to combat, but his fears were impotent to restrain him at the +first sound of that masterful voice. These were the words he had +waited for. He could never disobey such words as these—from +the lips of his god. And Ben's mind had worked true; he knew that +the wolf could likely hold the creature at bay until he could seize +his rifle.</p> +<p>In an instant it was in his hands, and he had sprung back to his +post in front of the cavern maw. And presently he remembered, +heartsick, that the weapon was not loaded.</p> +<p>For his own safety he had kept it empty on the outward journey, +partly to prevent accident, partly to be sure that his prisoner +could not turn it against him. But he had shells in the pocket of +his jacket. His hand groped, but his reaching fingers found but one +shell, dropping it swiftly into the gun. And now he knew that no +time remained to seek another. The beast in the darkness had +launched into the charge.</p> +<p>Thereafter there was only a great confusion, event piled upon +event with incredible rapidity, and a whole lifetime of stress and +fear lived in a single instant. The creature's first lunge carried +him into the brighter moonlight; and at once Ben recognized its +breed. No woodsman could mistake the high, rocking shoulders, the +burly form, the wicked ears laid back against the flat, massive +head, the fangs gleaming white, the long, hooked claws slashing +through the turf as he ran. It was a terrible thing to see and +stand against, in the half-darkness. The shadows accentuated the +towering outline; and forgotten terrors, lurking, since the world +was young, in the labyrinth of the germ plasm wakened and spread +like icy streams through the mortal body and seemed to threaten to +extinguish the warm flame of the very soul.</p> +<p>The grizzly bawled as he came, an explosive, incredible storm of +sound. Few indeed are the wilderness creatures that can charge in +silence: muscular exertion can not alone relieve their gathered +flood of madness and fury. And at once Ben sensed the impulse +behind the attack. He and the girl had made their home in the +grizzly's cave—perhaps the lair wherein he had hibernated +through the winter and which he still slept in from time to +time—and he had come to drive them out. Only death could pay +for such insolence as this,—to make a night's lair in the den +of his sovereignty, the grizzly.</p> +<p>It is not the accustomed thing for a grizzly to make an +unprovoked attack. He has done it many times, in the history of the +west, but usually he is glad enough to turn aside, only launching +into his terrible death-charge when a mortal wound obliterates his +fear of man, leaving only his fear of death. But this grizzly, +native to these uninhabited wilds, had no fear of man to forget. He +did not know what man was, and he had not learned the death that +dwells in the shining weapon he carries in his arms. No trappers +mushed through his snows of spring; no woodsman rode his winding +trails. True, from the first instant that the human smell had +reached him on the wind he had been disturbed and discomfited; yet +it was not grizzly nature to yield his den without a fight. The +sight of the wolf—known to him of old—only wakened an +added rage in his fierce heart.</p> +<p>The wolf met him at his first leap, springing with noble courage +at his grizzled throat; and the bear paused in his charge to strike +him away. He lashed out with his great forepaw; and if that blow +had gone straight home the ribs of the wolf would have been smashed +flat on his heart and lungs. The tough trunk of a young spruce +would have been broken as quickly under that terrible, blasting +full-stroke of a grizzly. The largest grizzly weighs but a thousand +pounds, but that weight is simple fiber and iron muscle, of a might +incredible to any one but the woodsmen who know this mountain king +in his native haunts. But Fenris whipped aside, and the paw missed +him.</p> +<p>Immediately the wolf sprang in again, with a courage scarcely +compatible with lupine characteristics, ready to wage this unequal +battle to the death. But his brave fight was tragically hopeless. +For all that his hundred and fifty pounds were, every ounce, +lightning muscle and vibrant sinew, it was as if a gopher had waged +war with a lynx. Yet by the law of his wild heart he could not turn +and flee. His master—his stalwart god whose words thrilled +him to the uttermost depths—had given his orders, and he must +obey them to the end.</p> +<p>The second blow missed him also, but the third caught a small +shrub that grew twenty feet beyond the dying fire. The shrub +snapped off under the blow, and its branchy end smote the wolf +across the head and neck. As if struck by a tornado he was hurled +into the air, and curtailed and indirect though the blow was, he +sprawled down stunned and insensible in the grass. The bear paused +one instant; then lunged forth again.</p> +<p>But the breath in which the wolf had stayed the charge had given +Ben his chance. With a swift motion of his arm he had projected the +single rifle shell into the chamber of the weapon. The stock +snapped to his shoulder; and his keen, glittering eyes sought the +sights.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXVIII"></a> +<h2>XXVIII</h2> +<p>Few wilderness adventures offer a more stern test to human +nerves than the frightful rush of a maddened grizzly. It typifies +all that is primal and savage in the wild: the insane rage that can +find relief only in the cruel rending of flesh; the thundering +power that no mere mortal strength can withstand. But Ben was a +woodsman. He had been tried in the fire. He knew that not only his +life, but that of the girl in the cavern depended upon this one +shot; and it was wholly characteristic of Wolf Darby that his eye +held true and his arm was steady as a vice of iron.</p> +<p>He was aware that he must wait until the bear was almost upon +him, in order to be sure to send the bullet home to a vital place. +This alone was a test requiring no small measure of self-control. +The instinct was to fire at once. In the moonlight it was difficult +to see his sights: his only chance was to enlarge his target to the +last, outer limit of safety. He aimed for the great throat, below +the slavering jaw.</p> +<p>His finger pressed back steadily against the trigger. The +slightest flinching, the smallest motion might yet throw off his +aim. The rifle spoke with a roar.</p> +<p>But this wilderness battle was not yet done. The ball went +straight home, down through the throat, mushrooming and plowing on +into the neck, inflicting a wound that was bound to be mortal +within a few seconds. The bear recoiled; but the mighty engine of +its life was not yet destroyed. Its incalculable fonts of vitality +had not yet run down.</p> +<p>The grizzly bounded forward again. The ball had evidently missed +the vertebrae and spinal column. His crashing, thunderous roar of +pain smothered instantly the reechoing report of the rifle and +stifled the instinctive cry that had come to Ben's lips. He was a +forester; and he had known of old what havoc a mortally wounded +bear can wreak in a few seconds of life. In that strange, vivid +instant Ben knew that his own and the girl's life still hung in the +balance, with the beam inclining toward death.</p> +<p>The grizzly was in his death-agony, nothing more; yet in that +final convulsion he could rip into shreds the powerful form that +opposed him. Ben knew, with a cold, sure knowledge, that if he +failed to slay the beast, it would naturally crawl into its lair +for its last breath. As this dreadful thought flashed home he +dropped the empty rifle and seized the axe that leaned against a +log of spruce beside the fire.</p> +<p>There was no time at all to search out another shell and load +his rifle. If the shock of the heavy bullet had not slackened the +bear's pace he would not even have had time to seize the axe. +Finally, if the bear had not been all but dead, in his last, +threshing agony, Ben's mortal strength could not have sent home one +blow. As it was they found themselves facing each other over the +embers of the fire, well-matched contestants whose stake was life +and whose penalty was death. The grizzly turned his head, caught +sight of Ben, identified him as the agent of his agony, and lurched +forward.</p> +<p>Just in time Ben sprang aside, out of the reach of those +terrible forearms; and his axe swung mightly in the air. Its blade +gleamed and descended—a blow that might have easily broken +the bear's back if it had gone true but which now seemed only to +infuriate him the more. The bear reared up, reeled, and lashed +down; and dying though he was, he struck with incredible power. One +slashing stroke of that vast forepaw, one slow closing of those +cruel fangs upon skull or breast, and life would have gone out like +a light. But Ben leaped aside again, and again swung down his +axe.</p> +<p>These were but the first blows of a terrific battle that carried +like a storm through the still reaches of the forest. Far in the +distant tree aisles the woods people paused in their night's +occupation to listen, stirred and terrified by the throb and thrill +in the air; the grazing caribou lifted his growing horns and +snorted in terror; the beasts of prey paused in the chase, growling +uneasily, gazing with fierce, luminous eyes in the direction of the +battle.</p> +<p>It is beyond the ken of man whether or not, in their wild +hearts, these forest folk sensed what was taking place,—that +their gray monarch, the sovereign grizzly, was at the death-fight +with some dreadful invader from the South. They heard the bear's +fierce bawls, unimitatable by any other voice as he lashed down +blow after blow; and they heard the thud and crunch of the axe +against his body. Had this monarch of the trails found his master +at last?</p> +<p>Gazing out through the aperture of the cave Beatrice beheld the +whole picture: the ring of spruce trees, the glade so strange and +ensilvered in the moonlight, and these two fighting beasts, +magnificent in fury over the embers of the dying fire. And Ben's +powers increased, rather than lessened. Ever he swung his terrible +axe with greater power.</p> +<p>He fought like the wolf that was his blood +brother,—lunging, striking down, recoiling out of harm's way, +and springing forward to strike again. This man was Wolf Darby, a +forester known in many provinces for his woods prowess, but even +those who had seen his most spectacular feats, in past days, had +not appreciated the real extent of his powers. There was a fury and +a might in his blows that was hard to associate with the world of +human beings,—such ferociousness and wolf-like savagery, +welling strength and prowess of battle that mostly men have +forgotten in their centuries of civilization, but which still mark +the death-fight between beasts.</p> +<p>Ben had always recalled the earlier types of man—his +great-thewed ancestors, wild hunters in the forests of ancient +Germany—but never so much as to-night. He was in his natural +surroundings—at the mouth of his cave in which the Woman +watched and exulted in his blows, enclosed by the primeval forest +and beside the ashes of his fire. There could be nothing strange or +unreal about this scene to Beatrice. It was more true than any soft +vista of a far-away city could possibly be. It was life +itself,—man battling for his home and his woman against the +raw forces of the wild.</p> +<p>All superficialities and superfluities were gone, and only the +basic stuff of life remained,—the cave, the fire, the man who +fought the beast in the light of the ancient moon. At that moment +Ben was no more of the twentieth century than he was of the first, +or of the first more than of some dark, unnumbered century of the +world's young days. He was simply the male of his species, the +man-child of all time, forgetting for the moment all the little +lessons civilization had taught, and fighting his fight in the +basic way for the basic things.</p> +<p>This was no new war which Ben and the grizzly fought in the pale +light of the moon. It had begun when the race began, and it would +continue, in varied fields, until men perished from the earth. Ben +fought for <i>life</i>—not only his own but the +girl's—that old, beloved privilege to breathe the air and see +and know and be. He represented, by a strange symbolism, the whole +race that has always fought in merciless and never-ending battle +with the cruel and oppressive powers of nature. In the grizzly were +typified all those ancient enemies that have always opposed, with +claw and fang, this stalwart, self-knowing breed that has risen +among the primates: he symbolized not only the Beast of the forest, +but the merciless elements, storm and flood and cold and all the +legions of death. And had they but known their ultimate fate if +this intruder survived the battle and brought his fellows into +this, their last stronghold, the watching forest creatures would +have prayed to see the grizzly strike him to the earth.</p> +<p>Ben knew, too, that he was fighting for his home; and this also +lent him strength. <i>Home</i>! His shelter from the storm and the +cold, the thing that marked him a man instead of a beast. The +grizzly had come to drive him forth; and they had met beside the +ashes of his fire.</p> +<p>The old exhilaration and rapture of battle flashed through him +as he swung his axe, sending home blow after blow. Sometimes he +cried out, involuntarily, in his fury and hatred; and as the bear +weakened he waged the fight at closer quarters. His muscles made +marvelous response, flinging him out of danger in the instant of +necessity and giving terrific power to his blows.</p> +<p>He danced about the shaggy, bleeding form of the bear, swinging +his axe, howling in his rage, and escaping the smashing blows of +the bear with miraculous agility,—a weird and savage picture +in the moonlight. But at last the grizzly lunged too far. Ben +sprang aside, just in time, and he saw his chance as the great, +reeling form sprawled past. He aimed a terrific blow just at the +base of the skull.</p> +<p>The silence descended quickly thereafter. The blow had gone +straight home, and the last flicker of waning life fled from the +titanic form. He went down sprawling; Ben stood waiting to see if +another blow was needed. Then the axe fell from his hands.</p> +<p>For a moment he stood as if dazed. It was hard to remember all +that occurred in the countless life times he had lived since the +grizzly had stolen out of the spruce forest. But soon he remembered +Fenris and walked unsteadily to his side.</p> +<p>The wolf, however, was already recovering from the blow. He had +been merely stunned; seemingly no bones were broken. Once more Ben +turned to the mouth of the cavern.</p> +<p>Sobbing and white as the moonlight itself Beatrice met him in +the doorway. She too had been uninjured; his arm had saved her from +the rending fangs. She was closer to him now, filling a bigger part +of his life. He didn't know just why. He had fought for her; and +some way—they were more to each other.</p> +<p>And this was his cavern,—his stronghold of rock where he +might lay his head, his haven and his hearth, and the symbol of his +dominance over the beasts of the field. He had fought for this, +too. And he suddenly knew a great and inner peace and a love for +the sheltering walls that would dwell forever in the warp and woof +of his being.</p> +<a name="PART_THREE"></a> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<h2>PART THREE</h2> +<h3>THE TAMING</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXIX"></a> +<h2>XXIX</h2> +<p>Ben rose at daybreak, wonderfully refreshed by the night's +sleep, and built the fire at the cavern mouth. Beatrice was still +asleep, and he was careful not to waken her. The days would be long +and monotonous for her, he knew, and the more time she could spend +in sleep the better.</p> +<p>He did, however, steal to the opening of the cavern and peer +into her face. The soft, morning light fell gently upon it, +bringing out its springtime freshness and the elusive shades of +gold in her hair. She looked more a child than a woman, some one to +shelter and comfort rather than to harry as a foe. "Poor little +girl," he murmured under his breath. "I'm going to make it as easy +for you as I can."</p> +<p>He meant what he said. He could do that much, at +least—extend to her every courtesy and comfort that was in +his power, and place his own great strength at her service.</p> +<p>His first work was to remove the skin of last night's +invader,—the huge grizzly that lay dead just outside the +cavern opening. They would have use for this warm, furry hide +before their adventure was done. It would supplement their supply +of blankets; and if necessary it could be cut and sewed with +threads of sinew into clothes. Because the animal had but recently +emerged from hibernation his fur, except for a few rubbed places, +was long and rich,—a beautiful, tawny-gray that shimmered +like cloth-of-gold in the light.</p> +<p>It taxed his strength to the utmost to roll over the huge body +and skin it. When the heavy skin was removed he laid it out, +intending to stretch it as soon as he could build a rack. He cut +off some of the fat; then quartering the huge body, he dragged it +away into the thickets.</p> +<p>The hour was already past ten; but Beatrice—worn out by +the stress of the night before—did not waken until she heard +the crack of her pistol. She lay a while, resting, watching through +the cavern opening Ben's efforts to prepare breakfast. A young +grouse had fallen before the pistol, and her companion was busy +preparing it for the skillet.</p> +<p>The girl watched with some pleasure his rather awkward efforts +to go about his work in silence,—evidently still believing +her asleep. She laughed secretly at his distress as he tripped +clumsily over a piece of firewood; then watched him with real +interest as he mixed batter for griddle cakes and fried the white +breast of the grouse in bear fat. Filling one of the two tin plates +he stole into the cavern.</p> +<p>Falling into his mood the girl pretended to be asleep. She +couldn't have understood why her pulse quickened as he knelt beside +her, looking so earnestly and soberly into her face. Then she felt +the touch of his fingers on her shoulder.</p> +<p>"Wake up, Beatrice," he commanded, with pretended gruffness. +"It's after ten, and you've got to cook my breakfast."</p> +<p>She stirred, pretending difficulty in opening her eyes.</p> +<p>"Get right up," he commanded again. "D'ye think I'm going to +wait all morning?"</p> +<p>She opened her eyes to find him regarding her with boyish glee. +Then—as a surprise—he proffered the filled plate, +meanwhile raising his arm in feigned fear of a blow.</p> +<p>She laughed; then began upon her breakfast with genuine relish. +Then he brought her hot water and the meager toilet articles; and +left the cave to prepare his own breakfast.</p> +<p>"I'm going on a little hunt," he said, when this rite was over. +"We can't depend on grouse and bear forever. I hate to ask you to +go—"</p> +<p>His tone was hopeful; and she could not doubt but that the +lonely spirit of these solitudes had hold of him. They were two +human beings in a vast and uninhabited wilderness, and although +they were foes, they felt the primitive need of each other's +companionship. "I don't mind going," she told him. "I'd rather, +than stay in the cave."</p> +<p>"It's a fine morning. And what's your favorite meat—moose +or caribou?"</p> +<p>"Caribou—although I like both."</p> +<p>He might have expected this answer. There are few meats in this +imperfect earth to compare in flavor with that of the great, +woodland caribou, monarch of the high park-lands.</p> +<p>"That means we do some climbing, instead of watching in the +beaver meadows. I'm ready—any time."</p> +<p>They took the game trail up the ridge, venturing at once into +the heavy spruce; but curiously enough, the mysterious hush, the +dusky shadows did not appall Beatrice greatly to-day. The miles +sped swiftly under her feet. Always there were creatures to notice +or laugh at,—a squirrel performing on a branch, a squawking +Canada Jay surprised and utterly baffled by their tall forms, a +porcupine hunched into a spiny ball and pretending a ferociousness +that deceived not even such hairbrained folk as the chipmunks in +the tree roots, or those queens of stupidity, the fool hens on the +branch. In the way of more serious things sometimes they paused to +gaze down on some particularly beautiful glen—watered, +perhaps, by a gleaming stream—or a long, dark valley steeped +deeply in the ancient mysticism of the trackless wilds.</p> +<p>He helped her over the steeps, waited for her at bad crossings; +and meanwhile his thoughts found easy expression in words. He had +to stop and remind himself that she was his foe. Beatrice herself +attempted no such remembrance; she was simply carrying out her +resolve to make the best of a deplorable situation.</p> +<p>She could see, however, that he kept close watch of her. He +intended to give her no opportunity to strike back at him. He +carried his rifle unloaded, so that if she were able, in an +unguarded moment, to wrest it from him she could not turn it +against him. But there was no joy for her in noticing these small +precautions. They only reminded her of her imprisonment; and she +wisely resolved to ignore them.</p> +<p>They climbed to the ridge top, following it on to the plateau +where patches of snow still gleamed white and the spruce grew in +dark clumps, leaving open, lovely parks between. Here they +encountered their first caribou.</p> +<p>This animal, however, was not to their liking in the way of meat +for the table. A turn in the trail suddenly revealed him at the +edge of the glade, his white mane gleaming and his graceful form +aquiver with that unquenchable vitality that seems to be the +particular property of northern wild animals; but Ben let him go +his way. He was an old bull, the monarch of his herd; he had ranged +and mated and fought his rivals for nearly a score of years in the +wild heart of Back There,—and his flesh would be mostly +sinew.</p> +<p>Ten minutes later, however, the girl touched his arm. She +pointed to a far glade, fully three hundred yards across the +canyon. Her quick eyes made out a tawny form against the +thicket.</p> +<p>It was a young caribou—a yearling buck—and his flesh +would be tender as a spring fowl.</p> +<p>"It's just what we want, but there's not much chance of getting +him at that range," he said.</p> +<p>"Try, anyway. You've got a long-range rifle. If you can hold +true, he's yours."</p> +<p>This was one thing that Ben was skilled at,—holding true. +He raised the weapon to his shoulder, drawing down finely on that +little speck of brown across the gulch. Few times in his life had +he been more anxious to make a successful shot. Yet he would never +have admitted the true explanation: that he simply desired to make +good in the girl's eyes.</p> +<p>He held his breath and pressed the trigger back.</p> +<p>Beatrice could not restrain a low, happy cry of triumph. She had +forgotten all things, for the moment, but her joy at his success. +And truly, Ben had made a remarkable shot. Most hunters who boast +of long-range hits do not step off the distance shot; fifty yards +is called a hundred, a hundred and fifty yards three hundred; and +to kill true at this range is not the accustomed thing on the +trails of sport. The bullet had gone true as a light-shaft, +striking the animal through the shoulders, and he had never stirred +out of his tracks. With that joy of conquest known to all owners of +rod and gun—related darkly to the blood-lust of the +beasts—they raced across the gully toward the fallen.</p> +<p>Ben quartered the animal, and again he saw fit to save the hide. +It is the best material of all for the parka, the long, full winter +garment of the North.</p> +<p>Ben carried the meat in four trips back to the camp. By the time +this work was done, and one of the quarters was drying over a fire +of quivering aspen chips, the day was done. Again they saw the +twilight shadows grow, and the first sable cloak of night was drawn +over the shoulders of the forest. Beatrice prepared a wonderful +roast of caribou for their evening meal; and thereafter they sat a +short time at the mouth of the cavern, looking quietly into the red +coals of the dying fire. Again Ben knew the beneficence and peace +of the sheltering walls of home. Again he felt a sweet +security,—a taming, gentling influence through the innermost +fiber of his being.</p> +<p>But Fenris the wolf gazed only into the darkened woods, and the +hair stood stiff at his shoulders, and his eyes glowed and shone +with the ancient hunting madness induced by the rising moon.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXX"></a> +<h2>XXX</h2> +<p>June passed away in the wilds of Back There, leaving warmer, +longer days, a more potent sun, and a greener, fresher loveliness +to the land. The spring calves no longer tottered on wabbly legs, +but could follow their swift mothers over the most steep and +difficult trails. Fledglings learned to fly, the wolf cubs had +their first lessons in hunting on the ridges. The wild Yuga had +fallen to such an extent that navigation—down to the Indian +villages on the lower waters—was wholly impossible.</p> +<p>The days passed quickly for Ben and Beatrice. They found plenty +of work and even of play to pass the time. Partly to fill her +lonely moments, but more because it was an instinct with her, +Beatrice took an ever-increasing interest in her cave home. She +kept it clean and cooked the meals, performing her tasks with +goodwill, even at times a gaiety that was as incomprehensible to +herself as to Ben.</p> +<p>Their diet was not so simple now. Of course their flour and +sugar and rice, and the meat that they took in the chase furnished +the body of their meals, and without these things they could not +live; but Beatrice was a woods child, and she knew how to find +manna in the wilderness. Almost every morning she ventured out into +the still, dew-wet forest, and nearly always she came in with some +dainty for their table. She gathered watercress in the still pools +and she knew a dozen ways to serve it. Sometimes she made a +dressing out of animal oil, beaten to a cream; and it was better +than lettuce salad. Other tender plant tops were used as a garnish +and as greens, and many and varied were the edible roots that +supplied their increasing desire for fresh vegetables.</p> +<p>Sometimes she found wocus in the marsh—the plant formerly +in such demand by the Indians—and by patient experiment she +learned how to prepare it for the table. Washing the plant +carefully she would pound it into paste that could be used as the +base for a nutty and delicious bread. Other roots were baked in +ashes or served fried in animal fat, and once or twice she found +patches of wild strawberries, ripening on the slopes.</p> +<p>This was living! They plucked the sweet, juicy berries from the +vines; they served as dessert and were also used in the fashioning +of delicious puddings with rice and sugar. Several times she found +certain treasures laid by for winter use by the squirrels or the +digging people—and perfectly preserved nuts and acorns, The +latter, parched over coals, became one of the staples of their +diet.</p> +<p>She gathered leaves of the red weed and dried them for tea. She +searched out the nests of the grouse and robbed them of their eggs; +and always high celebration in the cave followed such a find as +this. Fried eggs, boiled eggs, poached eggs tickled their palates +for mornings to come. And she traced down, one memorable day when +their sugar was all but gone, a tree that the wild bees had stored +with honey.</p> +<p>In the way of meat they had not only caribou, but the tender +veal of moose and all manner of northern small game. Ben did not, +however, spend rifle cartridges in reckless shooting. When at last +his enemies came filing down through the beaver meadow he had no +desire to be left with a half-empty gun. He had never fired this +more powerful weapon since he had felled their first caribou. The +moose calves and all the small game were taken with Beatrice's +pistol.</p> +<p>Sometimes he took ptarmigan—those whistling, sprightly +grouse of the high steeps—and Beatrice served uncounted +numbers of them, like the famous blackbirds, baked in a pie. Fried +ptarmigan was a dish never to forget; roast ptarmigan had a +distinctive flavor all its own, and the memory of ptarmigan +fricassee often called Ben home to the cavern an hour before the +established mealtime. Indeed, they partook of all the northern +species of that full-bosomed clan, the upland game birds; little, +brown quail, willow grouse, fool hens, and the incomparable blue +grouse, half of the breast of which was a meal. It was true that +their little store of pistol cartridges was all but gone, but +worlds of big game remained to fall back upon.</p> +<p>Ben never ceased regretting that he had not brought a single +fishhook and a piece of line. He had long since carried the canoe +from the river bank and hid it in the tall reeds of the lake shore, +not only for pleasure's sake, but to preserve it for the autumn +floods when they might want to float on down to the Indian +villages; and surely it would have afforded the finest sport in the +way of trolling for lake trout. But with utter callousness he made +his pistol serve as a hook and line. Often he would crawl down, +cautiously as a stalking wolf, to the edge of a trout pool, then +fire mercilessly at a great, spotted beauty below. The bullet +itself did not penetrate the water, but the shock carried through +and the fish usually turned a white belly to the surface. A fat +brook or lake trout, dipped in flour and fried to a chestnut brown, +was a delight that never grew old.</p> +<p>At every fresh find Beatrice would come triumphant into Ben's +presence; and at such times they scarcely conducted themselves like +enemies. An unguessed boyishness and charm had come to Ben in these +ripe, full summer days: the hard lines softened in his face and +mostly the hard shine left his eyes. Beatrice found herself +curiously eager to please him, taking the utmost care and pains +with every dish she prepared for the table; and it was true that he +made the most joyful, exultant response to her efforts. The searing +heat back of his eyes was quite gone, now. Even the scarlet fluid +of his veins seemed to flow more quietly, with less fire, with less +madness. A gentling influence had come to bear upon him; a great +kindness, a new forbearance had brightened his outlook toward all +the world. A great redemption was even now hovering close to +him,—some unspeakable and ultimate blessing that he could not +name.</p> +<p>Their days were not without pleasure. Often they ventured far +into the heavy forest, and always fresh delight and thrilling +adventure awaited them. Ever they learned more of the wild things +that were their only neighbors,—creatures all the way down +the scale from the lordly moose, proud of his growing antlers and +monarch of the marshes, to the small pika, squeaking on the +slide-rock of the high peaks. They knew and loved them all; they +found ever-increasing enjoyment in the study of their shy ways and +furtive occupations; they observed with delight the droll +awkwardness of the moose calves, the impertinence and saucy speech +of the jays, the humor of the black bear and the surly arrogance of +the grizzly. They knew that superlative cunning of his wickedness, +the wolverine; the stealth of the red fox; the ferociousness of the +ermine whose brown skin, soon to be white, suggested only something +silken and soft and tender instead of a fiendish cutthroat, terror +of the Little People; the skulking cowardice of the coyote; and the +incredible savagery and agility of the fisher,—that +middle-sized hunter that catches and kills everything he can master +except fish. They climbed high hills and descended into still, +mysterious valleys; they paddled long, dreamy twilight hours on the +lake; they traversed marshes where the moose wallowed; and they +walked through ancient forests where the decayed vegetation was a +mossy pulp under their feet. Sometimes they forgot the poignancy of +their strange lives, romping sometimes, gossiping like jays in the +tree-limbs, and sometimes, forgetting enmity, they told each other +their secret beliefs and philosophies. They had picnics in the +woods; and long, comfortable evenings before their dancing fire. +But there was one enduring joy that always surpassed all the rest, +a happiness that seemed to have its origin in the silent places of +their hearts. It was just the return, after a fatiguing day in +forest and marsh, to the sheltering walls of the cave.</p> +<p>With his axe and hunting knife Ben prepared a complete set of +furniture for their little abode. His first Work was a +surpassing-marvelous dining-room suite of a table and two chairs. +Then he put up shelves for their rapidly dwindling supplies of +provisions and cut chunks of spruce log, with a bit of bark +remaining, for fireside seats. And for more than a week, Beatrice +was forbidden to enter a certain covert just beyond the glade lest +she should prematurely discover an even greater wonder that Ben, in +off hours, was preparing for a surprise.</p> +<p>From time to time she heard him busily at work, the ring of his +axe and his gay whistling as he whittled bolts of wood; but other +than that it concerned the grizzly skin she had not the least idea +of his task. But the work was completed at last, and then came two +days of rather significant silence,—quite incomprehensible to +the girl. She was at a loss why Ben did not reveal his +treasure.</p> +<p>But one morning she missed the familiar sounds of his +fire-building, usually his first work on wakening. The very fact of +their absence startled her wide-awake, while otherwise she would +have perhaps slept late into the morning. Ben had seemingly +vanished into the heavy timber across the glade.</p> +<p>Presently she heard him muttering and grunting as he moved some +heavy object to the door of the cave. Boyishly, he could not wait +for the usual late hour when she wakened. He made a wholly +unnecessary amount of noise as he built the fire. Then he thrust +his lean head into the cavern opening.</p> +<p>"I hope I haven't waked you up?" he said.</p> +<p>The girl smiled secretly. "I wanted to wake up, +anyway—to-day."</p> +<p>"I wish you'd get up and come and look at something ugly I've +got just outside the door."</p> +<p>She hurried into her outer garments, and in a moment appeared. +It was ugly, certainly, the object that he had fashioned with such +tireless toil: not fitted at all for a stylish city home; yet the +girl, for one short instant, stopped breathing. It was a hammock, +suspended on a stout frame, to take the place of her tree-bough bed +on the cave floor. He had used the grizzly skin, hanging it with +unbreakable sinew, and fashioning it in such a manner that folds of +the hide could be turned over her on cold nights. For a moment she +gazed, very earnestly, into the rugged, homely, raw-boned face of +her companion.</p> +<p>Beatrice was deeply and inexplicably sobered, yet a curious +happiness took swift possession of her heart. Reading the gratitude +in her eyes, Ben's lips broke into a radiant smile.</p> +<p>"I guess you've forgotten what day it is," he said.</p> +<p>"Of course. I hardly know the month."</p> +<p>"I've notched each day, you know. And maybe you've +forgotten—on the ride out from Snowy Gulch—we talked of +birthdays. To-day is yours."</p> +<p>She stared at him in genuine astonishment. She had not dreamed +that this little confidence, given in a careless moment of long +weeks before, had lingered in the man's memory. She had supposed +that the fury and savagery of his war with her father and the +latter's followers had effaced all such things as this.</p> +<p>And it was true that had this birthday come a few weeks before, +on the river journey and previous to their occupation of the cave, +Ben would have let it pass unnoticed. The smoldering fire in his +brain would have seared to ashes any such kindly thought as this. +But when the wild hunter leaves his leafy lair and goes to dwell, a +man rather than a beast, in a permanent abode, he has thought for +other subjects than his tribal wars and the blood-lust of his +hates. The hearth, and the care and friendship of the girl had +tamed Ben to this degree, at least.</p> +<p>But wonders were not done. The look in the girl's eyes suddenly +melted, as the warm sun melts ice, some of the frozen bitterness of +his spirit. "It's your birthday—and I hope you have many of +'em," he went on. "No more like this—but all of 'em +happy,—as you deserve."</p> +<p>He walked toward her, and her eyes could not leave his. He bent +soberly, and brushed her lips with his own.</p> +<p>There were always worlds to talk about in the warm gleam of +their fire. When the day's work was done, and the hush of early +night gathered the land to its arms, they would sit on their +fireside seats and settle all problems, now and hereafter, to the +perfect satisfaction of them both.</p> +<p>From Ben, Beatrice gained a certain strength of outlook as well +as depth of insight, but she gave him in return more than she +received. He felt that her influence, in his early years, would +have worked wonders for him. She straightened out his moral +problems for him, taught him lessons in simple faith; and her own +childish sweetness and absolute purity showed his whole world in a +new light.</p> +<p>Sometimes they talked of religion and ethics, sometimes of +science and economics, and particularly they talked of what was +nearest to them,—the mysteries and works of nature. She had +been a close observer of the forest. She had received some glimpse +of its secret laws that were, when all was said and done, the basic +laws of life. But for all her love of science she was not a mere +biologist. She had a full and devout faith in Law and Judgment +beyond any earthly sphere.</p> +<p>"No one can live in this boundless wilderness and not believe," +she told him earnestly, her dark eyes brimming with her fervor. +"Perhaps I can't tell you why—maybe it's just a feeling of +need, of insufficiency of self. Besides, God is close, like He was +to the Israelites when they were in the wilderness; but you will +remember that He never came close again.—This forest is so +big and so awful, He knows he must stay close to keep you from +dying of fear.—God may not be a reality to the people of the +cities, where they see only buildings and streets, but Ben, He is +to me. You can't forget Him up here. He stands on every mountain, +just as the sons of Aaron saw Him."</p> +<p>He found, to his surprise, that she was not ill-read, +particularly in the old-time classics. But her environment had also +influenced her choice of reading. She loved the old legends in the +minor,—far-off and plaintive things that reflected the mood +of the dusky forest in which she lived.</p> +<p>One night, when the moon was in the sky, he told her of his war +record, of the shell-shock and the strange, criminal mania that +followed it; and then of his swift recovery. With an over-powering +need of self-justification he told her of his further adventures +with Ezram, of the old man's murder and the theft of the claim. She +heard him out, listening attentively; but in loyalty to her father +she did not let herself believe him entirely. The answer she gave +him was the same as she had always given at his every reference to +his side of the case.</p> +<p>"If you were in the right, you'd take me back and let the law +take its course," she told him. "You'd not be out here laying an +ambush for them, to kill them when they try to rescue me."</p> +<p>He could never make her understand how, by the intricacies of +law, it would be a rare chance that he would be able to fasten the +crime on the murderers: that he had taken the only sure way open to +make them pay for Ezram's death. He told her of the old man's, +final request; how that his war with her father and his men was a +debt that, by secret, inscrutable laws of his being, could never be +written off or disavowed. But he could never fully find words to +uphold his position. The thing went back to his instincts, traced +at last to the remorseless spirit of the wolf that was his +heritage.</p> +<p>Yet these hours of talk were immensely good for him. While they +never met on common grounds, the girl's true outlook and nobility +of character were ever more manifest to him; and were not without a +gentling, healing influence upon him. He could not blind himself to +them. And sometimes when he sat alone by his dying fire, as the +dark menaced him, and the girl that was his charge slept within the +portals of stone, he had the unescapable feeling that the very +structure of his life was falling and shattering down; but even now +he could see, an enchanted vista in the distance, a mightier, more +glorious tower, builded and shaped by this woman's hand.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXXI"></a> +<h2>XXXI</h2> +<p>While Beatrice was at her household tasks—cooking the +meals, cleaning the cave, washing and repairing their +clothes—Ben never forgot his more serious work. Certain hours +every day he spent in exploration, seeking out the passes over the +hills, examining every possible means of entrance and egress into +his valley, getting the lay of the land and picking out the points +from which he would make his attack. Already he knew every winding +game trail and every detail of the landscape for five miles or more +around. His ultimate vengeance seemed just as sure as the night +following the day.</p> +<p>Ever he listened for the first sound of the pack train in the +forest; and even in his hours of pleasure his eyes ever roamed over +the sweep of valley and marsh below. He was prepared for his +enemies now. One or five, they couldn't escape him. He had provided +for every contingency and had seemingly perfected his plan to the +last detail.</p> +<p>He had not the slightest fear that his eagerness would cost him +his aim when finally his eye looked along the sights at the forms +of his enemies, helpless in the marsh. He was wholly cold about the +matter now. The lust and turmoil in his veins, remembered like a +ghastly dream from that first night, returned but feebly now, if at +all. This change, this restraint had been increasingly manifest +since his occupation of the cave, and it had marked, at the same +time, a growing barrier between himself and Fenris. But he could +not deny but that such a development was wholly to have been +expected. Fenris was a child of the open forest aisles, never of +the fireside and the hearth. It was not that the wolf had ceased to +give him his dint of faithful service, or that he loved him any the +less. But each of them had other interests,—one his home and +hearth; the other the ever-haunting, enticing call of the wildwood. +Lately Fenris had taken to wandering into the forest at night, +going and coming like a ghost; and once his throat and jowls had +been stained with dark blood.</p> +<p>"It's getting too tame for you here, old boy, isn't it?" Ben +said to him one hushed, breathless night. "But wait just a little +while more. It won't be tame then."</p> +<p>It was true: the hunting party, if they had started at once, +must be nearing their death valley by now. Except for the absolute +worst of traveling conditions they would have already come. Ben +felt a growing impatience: a desire to do his work and get it over. +His pulse no longer quickened and leaped at the thought of +vengeance; and the wolflike pleasure in simple killing could no +longer be his. It would merely be the soldier's work—a +dreadful obligation to perform speedily and to forget. Even the +memory of the huddled form of his savior and friend, so silent and +impotent in the dead leaves, did not stir him into madness now.</p> +<p>Yet he never thought of disavowing his vengeance. It was still +the main purpose of his life. He had no theme but that: when that +work was done he could conceive of nothing further of interest on +earth, nothing else worth living for. Not for an instant had he +relented: except for that one kiss, on the occasion of her +birthday, he had never broken his promise in regard to his +relations with Beatrice. His first trait was steadfastness, a trait +that, curiously enough, is inherent in all living creatures who are +by blood close to the wild wolf, from the German police dog to the +savage husky of the North. But he was certainly and deeply changed +in these weeks in the cave. He no longer hated these three +murderous enemies of his. The power to hate had simply died in his +body. He regarded their destruction rather as a duty he owed old +Ezram, an obligation that he would die sooner than forego.</p> +<p>The hushed, dark, primal forest had a different appeal for him +now. He loved it still, with the reverence and adoration of the +forester he was, but no longer with that love a servant bears his +master. He had distinctly escaped from its dominance. The passion +and mounting fire that it wakened at the fall of darkness could no +longer take possession of him, as strong drink possesses the brain, +bending his will, making of him simply a tool and a pawn to gratify +its cruel desires and to achieve its mysterious ends. He had been, +in spirit, a brother of the wolf, before: a runner in the packs. +Such had been the outgrowth of innate traits; part of his strange +destiny. Now, after these weeks in the cave, he was a man. It was +hard for him to explain even to himself. It was as if in the escape +from his own black passions, he had also escaped the curious +tyranny of the wild; not further subject to its cruel moods and +whims, but rather one of a Dominant Breed, a being who could lift +his head in defiance to the storm, obey his own will, go his own +way. This was no little change. Perhaps, when all is said and done, +it marks the difference between man and the lesser mammals, the +thing that has evolved a certain species of the +primates—simply woods creatures that trembled at the storm +and cowered in the night—into the rulers and monarchs of the +earth.</p> +<p>Ben had come out from the darkened forest trails where he made +his lairs and had gone into a cave to live! He had found a +permanent abode—a lasting, shelter from the cold and the +storm. It suggested a curious allegory to him. Some time in the +long-forgotten past, probably when the later glaciers brought their +promise of cold, all his race left their leafy bowers and found +cave homes in the cliffs. Before that time they were merely woods +children, blind puppets of nature, sleeping where exhaustion found +them; wandering without aim in the tree aisles; mating when they +met the female of their species on the trails and venturing on +again; knowing the ghastly, haunting fear of the night and the +blind terror of the storm and elements: merely higher beasts in a +world of beasts. But they came to the caves. They established +permanent abodes. They began to be men.</p> +<p>All that now stands as civilization, all the conquest of the +earth and sea and air began from that moment. It was the Great +Epoch,—and Ben had illustrated it in his own life. The change +had been infinitely slow, but certain as the movement of the +planets in their spheres. Behind the sheltering walls they got away +from fear,—that cruel bondage in which Nature holds all her +wild creatures, the burden that makes them her slaves. Never to +shudder with horror when the darkness fell in silence and mystery; +never to have the heart freeze with terror when the thunder roared +in the sky and the wind raged in the trees. The cave dwellers began +to come into their own. Sheltered behind stone walls they could +defy the elements that had enslaved them so long. This freedom +gained they learned to strike the fire; they took one woman to keep +the cave, instead of mating indiscriminately in the forest, thus +marking the beginning of family life. Love instead of deathless +hatred, gentleness rather than cruelty, peace in the place of +passion, mercy and tolerance and self-control: all these mighty +bulwarks of man's dominance grew into strength behind the +sheltering walls of home.</p> +<p>Thus in these few little weeks Ben Darby—a beast of the +forest in his unbridled passions—had in some measure imaged +the life history of the race. He had lived again the momentous +regeneration. The protecting walls, the hearth, particularly +Beatrice's wholesome and healing influence, had tamed him. He was +still a forester, bred in the bone—loving these forest depths +with an ardor too deep for words—but the mark of the beast +was gone from his flesh.</p> +<p>He could still deal justice to Ezram's murderers and thus keep +faith with his dead partner; but the primal passions could no +longer dominate him. His pet, however, remained the wolf. The +sheltering cavern walls were never for him. He loved Ben with an +undying devotion, yet a barrier was rising between them. They could +not go the same paths forever.</p> +<p>Matters reached a crisis between Fenris and himself one still, +warm night in late July. The two were sitting side by side at the +cavern maw, watching the slow enchantment of the forest under the +spell of the rising moon; Beatrice had already gone to her hammock. +As the last little blaze died in the fire, and it crackled at ever +longer intervals, Ben suddenly made a moving discovery. The fringe +of forest about him, usually so dreamlike and still, was simply +breathing and throbbing with life.</p> +<p>Ben dropped his hand to the wolf's shoulders. "The little folks +are calling on us to-night," he said quietly.</p> +<p>In all probability he spoke the truth. It was not an uncommon +thing for the creatures of the wood—usually the lesser people +such as rodents and the small hunters—to crowd close to the +edge of the glade and try to puzzle out this ruddy mystery in its +center. Unused to men they could never understand. Sometimes the +lynx halted in his hunt to investigate, sometimes an old black +bear—kindly, benevolent good-humored old bachelor that every +naturalist loves—grunted and pondered at the edge of shadow, +and sometimes even such lordly creatures as moose and caribou +paused in their night journeys to see what was taking place.</p> +<p>Curiously, the wolf started violently at Ben's touch. The man +suddenly regarded him with a gaze of deepest interest. The hair was +erect on the powerful neck, the eyes swam in pale, blue fire, and +he was staring away into the mysterious shadows.</p> +<p>"What do you see, old-timer?" Ben asked. "I wish I could see +too."</p> +<p>He brought his senses to the finest focus, trying hard to +understand. He was aware only of the strained silence at first. +Then here and there, about the dimmining circle of firelight, he +heard the soft rustle of little feet, the subdued crack of a twig +or the scratch of a dead leaf. The forest smells—of which +there is no category in heaven or earth—reached him with +incredible clarity. These were faint, vaguely exciting smells, some +of them the exquisite fragrances of summer flowers, others beyond +his ken. And presently two small, bright circles appeared in a +distant covert, glowed once, and then went out.</p> +<p>By peering closely, with unwinking eyes, he began to see other +twin-circles of green and yellow light. Yet they were furtive +little radiances—vanishing swiftly—and they were +nothing of which to be afraid.</p> +<p>"They <i>are</i> out to-night," he murmured. "No wonder you're +excited, Fenris. What is it—some celebration in the +forest?"</p> +<p>There was no possible explanation. Foresters know that on +certain nights the wilderness seems simply to teem with +life—scratchings and rustlings in every covert—and on +other nights it is still and lifeless as a desert. The wild folk +were abroad to-night and were simply paying casual, curious visits +to Ben's fire.</p> +<p>Once more Ben glanced at the wolf. The animal no longer +crouched. Rather he was standing rigid, his head half-turned and +lifted, gazing away toward a distant ridge behind the lake. A +wilderness message had reached him, clear as a voice.</p> +<p>But presently Ben understood. Throbbing through the night he +heard a weird, far-carrying call—a long-drawn note, broken by +half-sobs—the mysterious, plaintive utterance of the wild +itself. Yet it was not an inanimate voice. He recognized it at once +as the howl of a wolf, one of Fenris' wild brethren.</p> +<p>The creature at his feet started as if from a blow. Then he +stood motionless, listening, and the cry came the second time. He +took two leaps into the darkness.</p> +<p>Deeply moved, Ben watched him. The wolf halted, then stole back +to his master's side. He licked the man's hand with his warm +tongue, whining softly.</p> +<p>"What is it, boy?" Ben asked. "What do you want me to do?"</p> +<p>The wolf whined louder, his eyes luminous with ineffable appeal. +Once more he leaped into the shadows, pausing as if to see if Ben +would follow him.</p> +<p>The man shook his head, rather soberly. A curious, excited light +was in his eyes. "I can't go, old boy," he said. "This is my +place—here. Fenris, I can't leave the cave."</p> +<p>For a moment they looked eyes into eyes—in the glory of +that moon as strange a picture as the wood gods ever beheld. Once +more the wolf call sounded. Fenris whimpered softly.</p> +<p>"Go ahead if you like," Ben told him. "God knows it's your +destiny."</p> +<p>The wolf seemed to understand. With a glad bark he sped away and +almost instantly vanished into the gloom.</p> +<p>But Fenris had not broken all ties with the cave. The chain was +too strong for that, the hold on his wild heart too firm. If there +is one trait, far and near in the wilds, that distinguishes the +woods children, it is their inability to forget. Fenris had joined +his fellows, to be sure; but he still kept watch over the cave.</p> +<p>The strongest wolf in the little band, the nucleus about which +the winter pack would form, he largely confined their hunting range +to the district immediately about the cave. It held him like a +chain of iron. Although the woods trails beguiled him with every +strong appeal, the sight of his master was a beloved thing to him +still, and scarcely a night went by but that he paused to sniff at +the cavern maw, seeing that all was well. At such times his +followers would linger, trembling and silent, in the farther +shadows. Because they had never known the love of man they utterly +failed to understand. But in an instant Fenris would come back to +them, the wild urge in his heart seemingly appeased by the mere +assurance of Ben's presence and safety.</p> +<p>Ben himself was never aware of these midnight visits. The feet +of the wolves were like falling feathers on the grass; and if +sometimes, through the cavern maw, he half-wakened to catch the +gleam of their wild eyes, he attributed it merely to the presence +of skulking coyotes, curious concerning the dying coals of the +fire.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXXII"></a> +<h2>XXXII</h2> +<p>Beatrice had kept only an approximate track of the days; yet she +knew that an attempt to rescue her must be almost at hand. Even +traveling but half a dozen miles a day, and counting out a +reasonable time for exploration and delays, her father's party must +be close upon them. And the thought of the forthcoming battle +between her abductor and her rescuers filled every waking moment +with dread.</p> +<p>She could not escape the thought of it. It lingered, hovering +like a shadow, over all her gayest moments; it haunted her more +sober hours, and it brought evil dreams at night. Her one hope was +that her father had given her up for lost and had not attempted her +rescue.</p> +<p>She realized perfectly the perfection of Ben's plans. She knew +that he had provided for every contingency; and besides, he had +every natural advantage in his favor. The end was inevitable: his +victory and the destruction of his foes. There would be little +mercy for these three in the hands of this iron man from the +eastern provinces. If they were to be saved it must be soon, not a +week from now, nor when another moon had waned. If Ben was to be +checkmated there were not many hours to waste.</p> +<p>She had had no opportunity to escape, at first. Ben knew that +she could not make her way over the hundreds of miles of howling +wilderness without food supplies, and always the wolf had been on +guard. He was like a were-wolf, a demon, anticipating her every +move, knowing her secret thoughts. But the wolf had gone now to +join his fellows. She was not aware of his almost nightly return. +Perhaps the fact of his absence gave her an opportunity, her one +chance to save her father from Ben's ambush.</p> +<p>Conditions for escape were more favorable than at any time since +their departure from the canoe landing, that late spring day of +long ago. The wolf was gone; Ben's guard of her was ever more lax. +The season was verdant: she could supplement what supplies she took +from the cave with roots and berries, and the warm nights would +enable her to carry a minimum of blankets. She knew that she could +never hope to succeed in the venture except by traveling light and +fast. On the other hand she would need all of Ben's remaining +supplies to bring her through: in a few more days the stores would +be so low that she could not attempt the trip. Human beings cannot +survive, in the forests of the north, on roots and berries alone. +Tissue-building flour and sustaining meat are necessary to climb +the ridges and battle the thicket.</p> +<p>How could she obtain these things? For all his seeming +carelessness Ben kept a fairly close watch on her actions, and he +would discover her flight within a few hours. Stronger than she, +and knowing every trail and pass for miles around he could overtake +her with ease. He gave her no opportunity to seize his rifle, load +it and turn it against him, thus making her escape by force.</p> +<p>The fact that she would leave him without food mattered not one +way or another. He would still have his rifle, and his small stock +of rifle cartridges would procure sufficient big game to sustain +him for weeks and months to come. After all, the whole issue +depended on the rifle,—the symbol of force. It would be his +instrument of vengeance when his chance came. If she could only +take this weapon from him she need not fear the coming of her +rescuers. In that case Ben would be helpless against them.</p> +<p>Unfortunately, the gun rarely left his hands. If indeed she +should attempt to seize it he would wrest it away from her before +she could destroy or injure it. But it was a hopeful fact that the +rifle was useless without its shells!</p> +<p>To procure these, however, presented an unsolvable problem. Any +way she turned she found a barrier Ben kept them in his shell belt, +and he wore the belt about his waist, waking or sleeping. Only to +procure it, run like a deer and hurl it into the rapids of the +Yuga,—and her problem would be absolutely solved. Ben would +be obliged to leave the cave home at once and return with her to +the Yuga cabins, utilizing the few stores they had left for the +journey—simply because to stay, unarmed, would mean to die of +starvation. Indeed the few remaining supplies would not more than +last them through now, traveling early and late, so if the venture +were to be attempted at all it must be at once. On the other hand +his rifle and shells would enable the two of them to remain in the +cavern indefinitely on a diet of meat alone.</p> +<p>As she worked about the cavern she brooded over the plan; but at +first she could conceive of no possible way to procure the shells. +If the chance came, however, she wanted to be ready. She planned +all other details of the venture; the shortest route to the nearest +rapids of the river where she might dispose of the deadly cylinders +of brass. It became necessary, also, to consider the lesser weapon +for the plain reason that it might defeat her in the moment of her +success.</p> +<p>Ben kept the weapon in his cartridge belt, but the extra pistol +shells were among the supplies. They could easily be procured. It +would also be necessary to induce him to fire away the few shells +that he carried in the pistol magazine; but this would likely be +easy enough to do. He put little reliance on the weapon, trusting +rather to his rifle both for the impending war and the procurance +of big game; and he would not harbor the pistol shells as long as +he had his rifle.</p> +<p>But the days were passing! Any attempt at deliverance must be +made before the food stores were further depleted. They could not +make the march without food. Days and nights overtook her with her +triumph as far distant as ever. The moment of opportunity she had +watched for, in which she might seize the cartridge belt and +destroy it, had never come to pass. The plans she had made while +the night lay soft and mysterious in the solitudes had all come to +nothing. He had never, as she had hoped, removed his belt and +forgotten to replace it, nor had his slumber ever been so deep that +she could steal it from him.</p> +<p>His own triumph surely was almost at hand. Surely his pursuers +had almost overtaken him. The stores had already fallen far below +the margin of safety for the long journey home. The thought was +with her, and she was desperate one long, warm afternoon as she +searched for roots and berries in the forest. Edible plants were +ever more hard to find, these past days; but what there were she +gathered almost automatically, herself lost in a deep +preoccupation. And all at once her hand reached toward a little +vine of black berries, each with a green tuft at the end, not +unlike gooseberries in southern gardens.</p> +<p>As if by instinct, hardly aware of the motion, she withdrew her +hand. She knew this vine. She was enough of a forester never to +mistake it. It was the deadly nightshade, and a handful of the +berries spelt death. She started to look elsewhere.</p> +<p>But presently she paused, arrested by an idea so engrossing and +yet so terrible that her heart seemed to pause in her breast. Had +any rules been laid down for her to follow in her war with Ben? Was +she to consider methods at such a time as this? Was she not a woods +girl,—a woman, not a child, trained and tutored in the savage +code of the wild that knows no ethics other than might, whether +might of arm or craft, of brain or fell singleness of purpose? +Should she consider ethics now?</p> +<p>Her father's life was in imminent danger. Another day might find +him stretched lifeless before her. Ben had not hesitated to use +every weapon in his power; she should not hesitate now. Ben had +made his war; she would wage it by his own code.</p> +<p>For a moment she stood almost without outward motion, intrigued +by the possibilities of this little handful of berries. She +shuddered once, nervously, but there was no further impulse of +remorse. Perhaps she trembled slightly; and her eyes were simply +depthless shadows under her brows.</p> +<p>They were so little, seemingly so inoffensive: these dark +berries in the shadows of the covert. They were scarcely to be +noticed twice. But not even the savage grizzly was of such might; +storms or seas were not so deadly. There they were, inconspicuous +among their sister plants, waiting for her hand.</p> +<p>It was right that they should be black in color. Their blackness +was as of a black night without a star shining through,—a +black cloud with never a rainbow to promise hope. She could not +turn her eyes away! How black they were among the green +leaves—lightless as death itself.</p> +<p>A handful of them meant death: her father had warned her about +them long ago. But half a handful—perhaps a dozen of the +sable berries in the palm of her hand—what did <i>they</i> +mean? Just a sickness wherein one could no longer guard a prisoner. +They were a powerful alkaloid, she knew; and a dozen of them would +likely mean hours and hours of deep, dreamless sleep,—a sleep +in which one could take no reckoning of hands fumbling at a +cartridge belt! Half a handful would, in all probability, fail to +strike the life from such a powerful frame as Ben's, but would +certainly act upon him like a powerful opiate and leave him +helpless in her hands.</p> +<p>Eagerly her fingers plucked the black berries.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXXIII"></a> +<h2>XXXIII</h2> +<p>In one of the tin cups Beatrice pressed the juice from the +nightshade, obtaining perhaps a tablespoonful of black liquor. To +this she added considerable sugar, barely tasting the mixture on +the end of her finger. The balance was inclining toward the success +of her plan. The sugar mostly killed the pungent taste of the +berries.</p> +<p>Then she concealed the cup in a cluster of vines, ready for the +moment of need. Her next act was to procure from among the supplies +the little cardboard box containing half a dozen or so of her +pistol shells. The way of safety was to destroy these first. The +effect of the poison might be of only a few minutes' duration, and +every motion might count. Under any conditions, they would be out +of the way. She was careful, with a superlative cunning, to take +the box as well as its contents. She foresaw that in all likelihood +Ben would seek the shells as soon as he fired the few that remained +in his pistol magazine; and an empty container might put him upon +his guard. On the other hand, if he could not find the box at all, +he could easily be led to believe that it had been simply misplaced +among the other supplies.</p> +<p>She scattered the shells in the heavy brush where not even the +bright, searching eyes of the Canada jay might ever find them. Then +she hastened up the ridge to meet Ben on his way to the cave.</p> +<p>She waited a few minutes, then spying his stalwart form at the +edge of the beaver meadow, she tripped down to meet him. He was not +in the least suspicious of this little act of friendship. It was +quite the customary thing, lately, for her thus to watch for his +coming; and his brown face always lighted with pleasure at the +first glimpse of her graceful form framed by the spruce. She too +had always taken pleasure in these little meetings and in the gay +talk they had as they sped down toward the cavern; but her delight +was singularly absent to-day. She tried to restrain the wild racing +of her heart.</p> +<p>She knew she must act her part. Her plan was to put him off his +guard, to hide her treachery with pretended friendship. To meet him +here—far distant from the poison cup hidden in the +vines—would give her time to master her leaping heart and to +strengthen her self-control.</p> +<p>Yet she had hardly expected him to greet her in just this +way,—with such a light in his eyes and such obvious delight +in his smile. He had a rather boyish, friendly smile, this foe of +hers whom she was about to despatch into the very shadow of death. +She dispelled quickly a small, faltering voice of remorse. This was +no time for remorse, for gentleness and mercy. She hurried to his +side.</p> +<p>"You're flushed from hurrying down that hill," he told her +gayly. "Beatrice, you're getting prettier every day."</p> +<p>"It's the simple life that's doing it, Ben! No late hours, no +indigestible food—"</p> +<p>"Speaking of food—I'm famished. I hope you've got +something nice for lunch—and I know you have."</p> +<p>She <i>had</i> been careful with to-day's lunch; but it had +merely been part of her plot to put him off his guard. "Caribou +tenderloin—almost the last of him—wocus bread and +strawberries," she assured him. "Does that suit your highness?"</p> +<p>He made a great feint of being overwhelmed by the news. "Then +let's hurry. Take my arm and we'll fly."</p> +<p>She seized the strong forearm, thrilled in spite of herself by +the muscles of steel she felt through the sleeves. He fell into his +fastest walking stride,—long steps that sped the yards under +them. They emerged from the marsh and started to climb the +ridge.</p> +<p>At a small hollow beside the creek bed her fingers suddenly +tightened on his arm. A thrill that was more of wonder than of joy +coursed through her; and her dark eyes began to glitter with +excitement. The wilderness was her ally to-day. She suddenly saw +her chance—in a manner that could not possibly waken his +suspicions of her intentions—of disposing of the remainder of +his pistol cartridges.</p> +<p>On a log thirty feet distant sat an old grouse with half a dozen +of her brood, all of them perched in a row and relying on their +protective coloring to save them from sight. They were Franklin's +grouse—and they had appeared as if in answer to Beatrice's +secret wish.</p> +<p>These birds were common enough in their valley, and not a day +passed without seeing from five to fifty of them, yet the sight +went straight home to Beatrice's superstitions. "Get them with your +pistol," she whispered. "I want them all—for a big grouse pie +to-night."</p> +<p>"But our pistol shells are getting low," Ben objected. "I've +hardly got enough shells in the gun to get 'em all—"</p> +<p>"No matter. You have to use them some time. There's a few more +in the cave, I think. We'll have to rely on big game from now on, +anyway. Don't miss one."</p> +<p>Ben drew his pistol, then walked up within twenty feet. He drew +slowly down, knocking the old bird from her perch with a bullet +through the neck.</p> +<p>"Good work," Beatrice exulted. "Now for the chicks."</p> +<p>Ben took the bird on the extreme right, and again the bullet +sped true. The remainder of the flock had become uneasy now; and at +the next shot all except one flew into the branches of the +surrounding trees. This shot was equally successful, and with the +fourth he knocked the remaining bird from the log.</p> +<p>Each of the four birds he had downed with a shot either through +the head or the neck; and such shooting would have been marvelous +indeed in the eyes of the tenderfoot. But both these two foresters +knew that there was nothing exceptional about it. Pistol shooting +is simply a matter of a sure eye and steady nerves, combined with a +greater or less period of practice. Few were the trappers or +woodsmen north of fifty-three that could not have done as much.</p> +<p>Ben turned his attention to the fowl on the lower tree limbs, +hitting once but missing the second time. To correct this +unpardonable proceeding, he knocked with his seventh a fat cock, +his spurs just starting, from almost the top of a young spruce.</p> +<p>"Here's one more," Beatrice urged him. "I'll need every one for +the pie."</p> +<p>But the gun was empty. The firing pin snapped harmlessly against +the breach. They gathered the grouse and sped on down to the +cavern.</p> +<p>Her heart seemingly leaped into her throat at every beat; but +with steady hands and smiling face she went about the preparation +of the meal. She fried the venison and baked the wocus bread, and +with more than usual spirit and gaiety set the dishes at Ben's +place at the table. "Draw up your chair," she told him. "I'll have +the tea in a minute."</p> +<p>Ben peered with sudden interest into her face. "What's troubling +you, Bee?" he asked gently. "You're pale as a ghost."</p> +<p>"I'm not feeling overly well." Her eyes dropped before his gaze. +"I'm not hungry—at all. But it's nothing to worry +about—"</p> +<p>She saw by his eyes that he <i>was</i> worrying; yet it was +evident that he had not the slightest suspicion of the real cause +of the sudden pallor in her cheeks. She saw his face cloud and his +eyes darken; and again she heard that faint, small voice of +remorse—whispering deep in her heart's heart. He was always +so considerate of her, this jailer of hers. His concern was always +so real and deep. Yet in a moment more the kindly sympathy would be +gone from his face. He would be lying very still—and his face +would be even more pale than hers.</p> +<p>Listlessly she walked to the door of the cave, procuring a +handful of dried red-root leaves that she used for tea. Through the +cavern opening he saw her drop them into the bucket that served as +their teapot.</p> +<p>Then she came back for the oiled, cloth bag that contained the +last of their sugar. This was always one of her little +kindnesses,—to sweeten his tea for him before she brought it +to him. He began to eat his steak.</p> +<p>In one glance the girl saw that he was wholly unsuspecting. He +trusted her; in their weeks together he had lost all fear of +treachery from her. There he was, exulting over the frugal lunch +she had prepared, with no inkling of the deadly peril that even now +was upon him. She wished he did not trust her so completely; it +would be easier for her if he was just a little wary, a little more +on guard.</p> +<p>She felt cold all over. She could hardly keep from shivering. +But this was the moment of trial; the thing would be done in a +moment more. She mustn't give way yet to the growing weakness in +her muscles. She walked to the vine where she had left the +potion.</p> +<p>How much of it there was—it seemed to have doubled in +quantity since she had left it. A handful of the black berries +meant death—certain as the sunrise—but what did half a +handful mean? The question came to her again. How did she know that +half a handful did not mean death too,—not just hours of +slumber, but relentless and irremediable death! Would that be the +end of her day's work—to see this tall, friendly warden of +hers lying dead before her gaze, the laughter gone from his lips +and the light faded from his eyes? She would be free then to strip +the shell belt from his waist. He would never waken to prevent her. +She could escape too—back to her father's home—and +leave him in the cave.</p> +<p>All that he had told her concerning his war with her father +recurred to her in one vivid flash. Could it have been that he had +told the truth—that her father and his followers had been the +attackers in the beginning? She had never believed him fully; but +could it be that he was in the right? His claim had been invaded, +he said, and his one friend murdered in cold blood. Was this not +cause enough, by the code of the North, for a war of reprisal?</p> +<p>But even as these thoughts came to her, she had walked boldly to +the fire and emptied the contents of the cup into the boiling water +in the teapot. Ben would have only had to look up to see her do it. +Yet still he did not suspect.</p> +<p>She waited an instant, steadying herself for the ordeal to come. +Then she took the pot off the fire and poured the hot contents into +the cup that had just held the potion. She had been careful not to +put enough water into the pot to weaken the drink. The cup brimmed; +but none was left. She brought it steaming to Ben's side.</p> +<p>No kindly root tripped her feet as she entered, no merciful +unsteadiness caused her to drop this cup of death and spill its +contents.</p> +<p>"Thanks, Beatrice." Ben looked up, smiling. "I'm a brute to let +you fix my tea when you are feeling so bad. But I sure am grateful, +if that helps any—"</p> +<p>His voice sounded far away, like a voice in a nightmare. "It's +pretty strong, I'm afraid," she told him. "The leaves weren't very +good, and I boiled them too long. I'm afraid you'll find it +bitter."</p> +<p>"I'll drink it, if it's bitter as gall," he assured her, "after +your kindness to fix it."</p> +<p>His hand reached and seized the handle of the cup. Even +now—<i>now</i>—he was raising it to his lips. In an +instant more he would be pouring it down his throat, too +considerate of her to admit its unwholesome taste, drinking it down +though it tasted the potion of death that it was! The hair seemed +to start on her head.</p> +<p>Then she seemed to writhe as in a convulsion. Her voice rose in +a piercing scream. "Ben—<i>Ben</i>—<i>don't drink +it</i>!" she cried. "God have mercy on my soul!"</p> +<p>But with that utterance a strength surpassing that of sinew and +muscle returned to her. She reached and knocked the cup from his +hand; and its black contents, like dark blood, stained the sandy +floor of the cavern.</p> +<p>Ben's first thought was curiously not of his own narrow escape, +but was rather in concern for Beatrice. Whether or not he had +actually swallowed any of the liquor in the cup he did not know; +nor did he give the matter a thought. He was aware of only the +terror-stricken girl before him, her face deathly white and her +eyes starting and wide. He leaped to his feet.</p> +<p>Fearing that she was about to faint he steadied her with his +hand. The echo of her scream died in the cavern, the cup rolled on +the floor and came to a standstill against the wall; but still she +made no sound, only gazing as if entranced. But slowly, as he +steadied her, the blessed tears stole into her eyes and rolled down +her white cheeks; and once more breath surged into her lungs.</p> +<p>"Never mind, Beatrice," the man was saying, his deep, rough +voice gentle as a woman's. "Don't cry—please don't +cry—just forget all about it. Let's go over to your hammock +and rest awhile."</p> +<p>With a strong arm he guided her to her cot, and smiling kindly, +pushed her down into it. "Just take it easy," he advised. "And +forget all about it. You'll be all right in a minute."</p> +<p>"But you don't understand—you don't know—what I +tried to do—"</p> +<p>"No matter. Tell me after a while, if you want to. Don't tell me +at all if you'd rather not. I'm going back to my lunch." He +laughed, trying to bring her to herself. "I wouldn't miss that +caribou steak for anything—even though I can't have my tea. +Just lay down a while, and rest."</p> +<p>His rugged face lighted as he smiled, kindly and tolerantly, and +then he turned to go. But her solemn voice arrested him.</p> +<p>"Wait, Ben. I want you to know—now—so you won't +trust me again—or give me another chance. The cup—was +poisoned."</p> +<p>But the friendly light did not yet wane in his eyes. "I didn't +think it was anything very good—the way you knocked it out of +my hand. We'll just pretend it was very bad tea—and let it go +at that."</p> +<p>"No. It was nightshade—it might have killed you." She +spoke in a flat, lifeless voice. "I didn't want it to kill +you—I just wanted to give you enough to put you to +sleep—so I could take your rifle shells and throw them +away—but I was willing to let you drink it, even if it +<i>did</i> kill you."</p> +<p>The man looked at her, in infinite compassion, then came and sat +beside her in the hammock. Rather quietly he took one of her hands +and gazed at it, without seeing it, a long time. Then he pressed it +to his lips.</p> +<p>For a breath he held it close to his cheek, his eyes lightless +and far away, and she gazed at him in amazement.</p> +<p>"You'd kiss my hand—after what I did—?"</p> +<p>"After what you <i>didn't</i> do," he corrected. "Please, +Beatrice—don't blame yourself. Some way—I understand +things better—than I used to. Even if you had killed +me—I don't see why it wouldn't have been your right. I've +held you here by force. Yet you didn't let me drink the stuff. You +knocked it out of my hand."</p> +<p>And now, for the first time, an inordinate amazement came into +his face. He looked at her intently, yet with no unfriendliness, no +passion. Rather it was with overwhelming wonder.</p> +<p>"<i>You knocked it out of my hands</i>!" he repeated, more +loudly. "Oh, Beatrice—it's my turn to beg forgiveness now! +When I was at your mercy, and the cup at my lips—you spared +me. Why did you do it, Beatrice?"</p> +<p>He gazed at her with growing ardor. She shook her head. She +simply did not know the reason.</p> +<p>"It's not your place to feel penitent," he told her, with +infinite sincerity. "If you had let me take it, you'd have just +served me right—you'd have just paid me back in my own coin. +It was fair enough—to use every advantage you had. Good Lord, +have you forgotten that I am holding you here by force? But +instead—you saved me, when you might have killed me—and +won the fight. All you've done is to show yourself the finer +clay—that's what you've done. God knows I suppose the woman +is always finer clay than the man—yet it comes with a jolt, +just the same. It's not for you to be down-hearted—Heaven +knows the strength you've shown is above any I ever had, or ever +will have. You've shown how to feel mercy—I could never show +anything but hate, and revenge. You've shown me a bigger and +stronger code than mine. And there's nothing—nothing I can +say."</p> +<p>The tone changed once more to the personal and solicitous. "But +it's been a big strain on you—I can see that. I believe I'd +lie here and rest awhile if I were you. I'll eat my +dinner—and the fire's about out too. That's the +girl—Beatrice."</p> +<p>Gently he picked her up, seemingly with no physical effort and +laid her in her hammock. "Then—you'll forgive me?" she asked +brokenly.</p> +<p>"Good Heavens, I wish there was something to forgive—so +we'd be a little more even. But you've accomplished something, +Beatrice—and I don't know what it is yet—I only know +you've changed me—and softened me—as I never dreamed +any one in the world could. Now go to sleep."</p> +<p>He turned from her, but the food on the table no longer tempted +him. For a full hour he stood before the ashes of the fire, deeply +and inextricably bewildered with himself, with life, and with all +these thoughts and hopes and regrets that thronged him. He was like +ashes now himself; the fires of his life seemed burned out. The +thought recalled him to the need of cutting fuel for the night's +fire.</p> +<p>He might be able to quiet the growing turmoil in his brain when +the still shadows of the spruce closed around him. He seized his +axe, then peered into the cave. Beatrice, worn out by the stress of +the hour before and immensely comforted by Ben's words, was already +deeply asleep. His rifle leaned against the wall of the cavern, and +he put it in the hollow of his arm. It was not that he feared +Beatrice would attempt to procure it. The act was mostly habit, +combined with the fact that their supply of meat was all but +exhausted and he did not wish to miss any opportunity for big +game.</p> +<p>The forest was particularly gloomy to-day. Its shadows lay deep. +And this was not merely the result of his own darkened outlook: +glancing up, he saw that clouds were gathering in the sky. They +would need fuel in plenty to keep the fire bright to-night. +Evidently rain was impending,—one of those cold, steady +downpours that are disliked so cordially by the folk of the upper +Selkirks.</p> +<p>He went a full two hundred yards before he found a tree to his +liking. It was a tough spruce of medium height and just at the edge +of the stream. He laid his rifle down, leaning it against a fallen +log; then began his work.</p> +<p>It was an awkward place to stand; but he gave no thought to it. +His mind dwelt steadily on the events in the cavern of the hour +before; the girl's remorse in the instant that she had him at her +mercy and the example it set for him. The blade bit into the wood +with slow encroachments. Perhaps the expenditure of brute energy in +swinging the axe would relieve his pent-up feelings.</p> +<p>He was not watching his work. His blows struck true from habit. +Now the tree was half-severed: it was time to cut on the opposite +side. Suddenly his axe crashed into yielding, rotten wood.</p> +<p>Instantly the powers of the wilderness took their long-awaited +toll. Ben had been unwary, too absorbed by his swirling thoughts to +mark the ambush of death that had been prepared for him. Ever to +keep watch, ever to be on guard: such is the first law of the wild; +and Ben had disregarded it. Half of the tree had been rotten, +changing the direction of its fall and crashing it down before its +time.</p> +<p>Ben leaped for his life, instinctively aiming for the shelter of +the log against which he had inclined his rifle; but the blow came +too soon. He was aware only of the rush of air as he leaped, an +instant's hovering at the crest of a depthless chasm, then the +sense of a mighty, resistless blow hurling him into infinity.</p> +<p>Ben's rifle, catching the full might of the blow, was broken +like a match. Ben himself was crushed to earth as beneath a meteor, +the branchy trunk shattering down upon his stalwart form like the +jaws of a great trap. He uttered one short, half-strangled cry.</p> +<p>Then the darkness, shot with varied and multiple lights, dropped +over him. The noise of the falling tree died away; the +forest-dwellers returned to their varied activities. The rain +clouds deepened and spread above his motionless form.</p> +<br> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXXIV"></a> +<h2>XXXIV</h2> +<p>Beatrice's dreams were troubled after Ben's departure into the +forest. She tossed and murmured, secretly aware that all was not +well with her. Yet in the moments that she half-wakened she +ascribed the vague warning to nervousness only, falling immediately +to sleep again. Wakefulness came vividly to her only with the +beginnings of twilight.</p> +<p>She opened her eyes; the cavern was deep with shadow. She lay +resting a short time, adjusting her eyes to the soft light. In an +instant all the dramatic events of the day were recalled to her: +the tin cup that had held the poison still lay against the wall, +and the liquor still stained the sandy floor, or was it only a +patch of deeper shadow?</p> +<p>She wondered why Ben did not come into the cave. Was he +embittered against her, after all; had he spoken as he did just +from kindness, to save her remorse? She listened for the familiar +sounds of his fuel cutting, or his other work about the camp. +Wherever he was, he made no sound at all.</p> +<p>She sat up then, staring out through the cavern maw. For an +instant she experienced a deep sense of bewilderment at the +pressing gloom, so mysterious and unbroken over the face of the +land. But soon she understood what was missing. The fire was +out.</p> +<p>The fact went home to her with an inexplicable shock. She had +become so accustomed to seeing the bright, cheerful blaze at the +cavern mouth that its absence was like a little tragedy in itself. +Always it had been the last vista of her closing eyes as she +dropped off to sleep—the soft, warm glow of the +coals—and the sight always comforted her. She could scarcely +remember the morning that it wasn't crackling cheerily when she +wakened. Ben had always been so considerate of her in this +regard—removing the chill of the cave with its radiating heat +to make it comfortable for her to dress. Not even coals were left +now—only ashes, gray as death.</p> +<p>She got up, then walked to the cavern maw. For a moment she +stood peering into the gloom, one hand resting against the portals +of stone. The twilight was already deep. It was the supper hour and +past; dark night was almost at hand. There could be no further +doubt of Ben's absence. He was not at the little creek getting +water, nor did she hear the ring of his axe in the forest. She +wondered if he had gone out on one of his scouting expeditions and +had not yet returned. Of course this was the true explanation; she +had no real cause to worry.</p> +<p>Likely enough he had little desire to return to the cavern now. +She could picture him following at his tireless pace one of the +winding woods trails, lost in contemplation, his vivid eyes clouded +with thought.</p> +<p>She looked up for the sight of the familiar stars that might +guide him home. They were all hidden to-night. Not a gleam of light +softened the stark gloom of the spruce. As she watched the first +drops of rain fell softly on the grass.</p> +<p>The drops came in ever-increasing frequency, cold as ice on her +hand. She heard them rustling in the spruce boughs; and far in the +forest she discerned the first whine of the wakening wind. The +sound of the rain was no longer soft. It swelled and grew, and all +at once the wind caught it and swept it into her face. And now the +whole forest moaned and soughed under the sweep of the wind.</p> +<p>There is no sound quite like the beat of a hard rain on dense +forest. It has no startling discords, but rather a regular cadence +as if the wood gods were playing melodies in the minor on giant +instruments,—melodies remembered from the first, unhappy days +of the earth and on instruments such as men have never seen. But +this was never a melody to fill the heart with joy. It touches deep +chords of sorrow in the most secret realms of the spirit. The rain +song grew and fell as the gusts of the wind swept it, and the rock +walls of the cliff swam in clouds of spray.</p> +<p>The storm could not help but bring Ben to camp, she thought. At +least she did not fear that he would lose his way: he knew every +trail and ridge for miles around the cave. Even such pressing, +baleful darkness as this could not bewilder him. She went back to +her cot to wait his coming.</p> +<p>The minutes seemed interminable. Time had never moved so slowly +before. She tried to lie still, to relax; then to direct her +thought in other channels; but all of these meandering streams +flowed back into the main current which was Ben. Yet it was folly +to worry about him; any moment she would hear his step at the edge +of the forest. But the night was so dark, and the storm so wild. A +half-hour dragged its interminable length away.</p> +<p>Her uneasiness was swiftly developing into panic. Just to-day +she was willing to risk his life for her freedom: it was certainly +folly now to goad herself to despair by dwelling on his mysterious +absence. It might speed the passing minutes if she got up and found +some work to do about the cave; but she simply had no heart for it. +Once she sat up, only to lie down again.</p> +<p>The moments dragged by. Surely he would have had time to reach +camp by now. The storm neither increased nor decreased; only played +its mournful melodies in the forest. The song of the rain was +despairing,—low mournful notes rising to a sharp crescendo as +the fiercer gusts swept it into the tree tops. The limbs murmured +unhappily as they smote together; and a tall tree, swaying in the +wind, creaked with a maddening regularity. She was never so lonely +before, so darkly miserable.</p> +<p>"I want him to come," her voice suddenly spoke aloud. It rang +strangely in the gloomy cave. "I want him to come back to me."</p> +<p>She felt no impulse for the words. They seemed to speak +themselves. Presently she sat erect, her heart leaping with +inexpressible relief, at the sound of a heavy tread at the edge of +the glade.</p> +<p>The steps came nearer, and then paused. She sprang to her feet +and went to the mouth of the cave. A silence that lived between the +beating rain and the complaining wind settled down about her. Her +eyes could not pierce the darkness.</p> +<p>"Is that you, Ben?" she called.</p> +<p>She strained into the silence for his reply. The cold drops +splashed into her face.</p> +<p>"Ben?" she called again. "Is that you?"</p> +<p>Then something leaped with an explosive sound, and running feet +splashed in the wet grass in flight. The little spruce trees at the +edge of the glade whipped and rustled as a heavy body crashed +through. The steps had been only those of some forest beast—a +caribou, perhaps, or a moose—come to mock her despair.</p> +<p>She remembered that Ben had been wishing for just such a +visitation these past few days; of course in the daylight hours +when he could see to shoot. Their meat supply was almost gone.</p> +<p>She did not go to her cot again. She stood peering into the +gloom. All further effort to repel her fears came to nothing. The +storm was already of two hours' duration, and Ben would have +certainly returned to the cave unless disaster had befallen him. +Was he lost somewhere in the intertwining trails, seeking shelter +in a heavy thicket until the dawn should show him his way? There +were so many pitfalls for the unsuspecting in these trackless +wilds.</p> +<p>Yet she could be of no aid to him. The dark woods stretched +interminably; she would not even know which way to start. It would +just mean to be lost herself, should she attempt to seek him. The +trails that wound through the glades and over the ridges had no +end.</p> +<p>"Ben!" she called again. Then with increasing volume. "Ben!"</p> +<p>But no echo returned. The darkness swallowed the sound at +once.</p> +<p>The night was chill: she longed for the comfort of the fire. The +actual labor of building it might take her mind from her fears for +a while at least; and its warm glow might dispel the growing cold +of fear and loneliness in her breast. Besides, it might be a beacon +light for Ben. She turned at once to the pile of kindling Ben had +prepared.</p> +<p>But before she could build a really satisfactory fire, one that +would endure the rain, she must cut fuel from some of the logs Ben +had hewn down and dragged to the cave. She lighted a short piece of +pitchy wood, intending to locate the heavy camp axe. Then, putting +on her heavy coat—the same garment of lustrous fur which Ben +had sent her back for the day of her abduction—she ventured +into the storm.</p> +<p>The rain splashed in vain at her torch. The pitch burned with a +fierce flame. But her eyes sought in vain for the axe.</p> +<p>This was a strange thing: Ben always left it leaning against one +of the chunks of spruce. Presently she halted, startled, gazing +into the black depths of the forest.</p> +<p>Ben had taken it; he had plainly gone forth after fuel. Trees +stood all about the little glade: he couldn't have gone far. The +inference was obvious: whatever disaster had befallen him must have +occurred within a few hundred yards of the cave.</p> +<p>Holding her torch high she went to the edge of the glade and +again called into the gloom. There was no repression in her voice +now. She called as loudly as she could. She started to push on into +the fringe of timber.</p> +<p>But at once she paused, holding hard on her self-control. It was +folly to make a blind search. To penetrate the dark mystery of the +forest with only this little light—already flickering +out—would probably result in becoming lost herself. Such a +course would not help Ben's cause. Evidently he was lying within a +few hundred feet of her, unconscious—perhaps dead—or he +would have replied to her call.</p> +<p>Dead! The thought sped an icy current throughout the hydraulic +system of her veins.</p> +<p>She was a mountain girl, and she made no further false motions. +She turned at once to the cave, and piling up her kindling, built a +fire just at the mouth of the cave. It was protected here in some +degree from the rain, and the wind was right to carry the smoke +away. This fire would serve to keep her direction and lead her back +to the cavern.</p> +<p>Once more she ventured into the storm, and gathering all the cut +fuel she could find, piled it on her fire. The two spruce chunks +that Ben had cut for their fireside seats were placed as back logs. +Then she hunted for pine knots taken from the scrub pines that grew +in scattering clumps among the spruce, and which were laden with +pitch.</p> +<p>One of these knots she put in the iron pan they used for frying, +then lighted it. Then she pushed into the timber.</p> +<p>Holding her light high she began to encircle the glade clear to +the barrier of the cliffs. To the eyes of the wild creatures this +might have been a never-to-be-forgotten picture: the slight form of +the girl, her face blanched and her eyes wide and dark in the +flaring light, her grotesque torch and its weird shadows, and then +rain sweeping down between. She reached the cliff, then started +back, making a wider circle.</p> +<p>Adding fresh fuel to the torch, she peered into every covert and +examined with minute care any human-shaped shadow in that eerie +world of shadows; but the long half-circle brought her back to the +cliff wall without results. She was already wet to the skin, and +her pine knots were nearly spent. Ever the load of dread was +heavier at her heart. In the hour or more she had +searched—she had no way of estimating time—she had +already gone farther than Ben usually went for his fuel.</p> +<p>As yet no tears came; only the raindrops lay on her face and +curled her dark hair in ringlets. But she must not give up yet. It +was hard to hold her shoulders straight; but she must make the long +circle once more.</p> +<p>With courage and strength such as she had not dreamed she +possessed, she launched forward again. But fatigue was breaking her +now. The tree roots tripped her faltering feet, the branches +clutched at her as she passed. It was hard to tell what territory +she had searched, or how far she had gone. But when she was halfway +around, she suddenly halted, motionless as an image, at the edge of +the stream.</p> +<p>The flickering light revealed a tree, freshly cut, its, naked +stump gleaming and its tall form lying prone. Yet beneath it the +shadows were of strange, unearthly shape, and something showed +stark white through the green foliage. Great branches stretched +over it, like bars over a prison window.</p> +<p>Just one curious deep sob wracked her whole body. The life-heat, +the mystery that is being, seemed to steal away from her. Her +strength wilted; and for an instant she could only stand and gaze +with fixed, unbelieving eyes. But almost at once the unquenchable +fires of her spirit blazed up anew. She saw her task, and with a +faith and steadfastness conformable more to the sun and the earth +than to human frailty, her muscles made instant and incredible +response.</p> +<p>Instantly she was beside the form of her comrade and enemy, +struggling with the cruel limbs that pinned him to the earth.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXXV"></a> +<h2>XXXV</h2> +<p>Beatrice knew one thing and one alone: that she must not give +way to the devastating terror in her heart. There was mighty work +to do, and she must keep strong. Her only wish was to kneel beside +him, to lift the bleeding head into her arms and let the storm and +the darkness smother her existence; but her stern woods training +came to her aid. She began the stupendous task of freeing him from +the imprisoning tree limbs.</p> +<p>The pine knots flickered feebly; and by their light she looked +about for Ben's axe. Her eyes rested on the broken gun first: then +she saw the blade, shining in the rain, protruding from beneath a +broken bough. She drew it out and swung it down.</p> +<p>Some of the lesser limbs she broke off, with a strength in her +hands she did not dream she possessed. The larger ones were cut +away with blows incredibly strong and accurate. How and by what +might she did not know, but almost at once the man's body was free +except for the tree trunk that wedged him against a dead log toward +which he had leaped for shelter.</p> +<p>She seemed powerless to move it. Her shoulders surged against it +in vain. A desperate frenzy seized her, but she fought it +remorselessly down. Her self-discipline must not break yet. Seeing +that she could not move the tree itself, she thrust with all her +power against the dead log beside which Ben lay. In a moment she +had rolled it aside.</p> +<p>Then for the first time she went to her knees beside the prone +form. Ben was free of the imprisoning limbs, but was his soul +already free of the stalwart body broken among the broken boughs? +She had to know this first; further effort was unavailing until she +knew this. Her hand stole over his face.</p> +<p>She found no reassuring warmth. It was wet with the rain, cold +to the touch. His hair was wet too, and matted from some dreadful +wound in the scalp. Very softly she felt along the skull for some +dreadful fracture that might have caused instant death; but the +descending trunk had missed his head, at least. Very gently she +shook him by the shoulders.</p> +<p>Her stern self-control gave way a little now. The strain had +been too much for human nerves to bear. She gathered him into her +arms, still without sobbing, but the hot tears dropped on to his +face.</p> +<p>"Speak to me, Ben," she said quietly. The wind caught her words +and whisked them away; and the rain played its unhappy music in the +tree foliage; but Ben made no answer. "Speak to me," she repeated, +her tone lifting. "My man, my baby—tell me you're not +dead!"</p> +<p>Dead! Was that it—struck to the earth like the caribou +that fell before his rifle? And in that weird, dark instant a light +far more bright than that the flickering pine knots cast so dim and +strange over the scene beamed forth from the altar flame of her own +soul. It was only the light of knowledge, not of hope, but it +transfigured her none the less.</p> +<p>All at once she knew why she had hurled the poisoned cup from +his hand, even though her father's life might be the price of her +weakness. She understood, now, why these long weeks had been a +delight rather than a torment; why her fears for him had gone so +straight to her heart. She pressed his battered head tight against +her breast.</p> +<p>"My love, my love," she crooned in his ear, pressing her warm +cheek close to his. "I do love you, I do, I do," she told him +confidingly, as if this message would call him back to life. Her +lips sought his, trying to give them warmth, and her voice was low +and broken when she spoke again. "Can't you hear me, +Ben—won't you try to come back to me? If you're dead I'll die +too—"</p> +<p>But the man did not open his eyes. Would not even this appeal +arouse him from this deep, strange sleep in which he lay? He had +always been so watchful of her—since that first day—so +zealous for her safety. She held him closer, her lips trembling +against his.</p> +<p>But she must get herself in hand again! Perhaps life had not yet +completely flickered out; and she could nurse it back. She dropped +her ear to his breast, listening.</p> +<p>Yes, she felt the faint stirring of his heart. It was so feeble, +the throbs were so far apart, yet they meant life,—life that +might flush his cheeks again, and might yet bring him back to her, +into her arms. He was breathing, too; breaths so faint that she +hardly dared to believe in their reality. And presently she +realized that his one hope of life lay in getting back to the +fire.</p> +<p>For long hours he had been lying in the cold rain; a few more +minutes would likely extinguish the spark of life that remained in +his breast. Her hand stole over his powerful frame, in an effort to +get some idea of the nature of his wounds.</p> +<p>One of his arms was broken; its position indicated that. Some of +his ribs were crushed too—what internal injuries he had that +might end him before the morning she did not know. But she could +not take time to build a sledge and cut away the brush. She worked +her shoulder under his body.</p> +<p>Wrenching with all her fine, young strength she lifted him upon +her shoulder; then, kneeling in the vines, she struggled for +breath. Then thrusting with her arm she got on her feet.</p> +<p>His weight was over fifty pounds greater than her own; but her +woods training, the hard work she had always done, had fitted her +for just such a test as this. She started with her burden toward +the cave.</p> +<p>She had long known how to carry an injured man, suspending him +over her shoulder, head pointed behind her, her arms clasping his +thigh. With her free arm she seized the tree branches to sustain +her. She had no light now; she was guided only by the faint glow of +the fire at the cavern mouth.</p> +<p>After a hundred feet the load seemed unbearable. Except for the +fact that she soon got on the well-worn moose trail that followed +the creek, she could scarcely have progressed a hundred feet +farther. As it was, she was taxed to the utmost: every ounce of her +reserve strength would be needed before the end.</p> +<p>At the end of a hundred yards she stopped to rest, leaning +against a tree and still holding the beloved weight upon her +shoulder. If she laid it down she knew she could not lift it again. +But soon she plunged on, down toward the beacon light.</p> +<p>Except for her love for him, and that miraculous strength that +love has always given to women, she could not have gone on that +last, cruel hundred yards. But slowly, steadily, the circle of +light grew brighter, larger, nearer; ever less dense were the +thickets of evergreen between. Now she was almost to the glade; now +she felt the wet grass at her ankles. She lunged on and laid her +burden on her bed.</p> +<p>Then she relaxed at his feet, breathing in sobbing gasps. Except +for the crackle of the fire and the beat of the rain, there was no +sound in the cave but this,—those anguished sobs from her +wracked lungs.</p> +<p>But far distant though Ben was and deep as he slept—just +outside the dark portals of death itself—those sounds went +down to him. He heard them dimly at first, like a far-distant voice +in a dream, but as the moments passed he began to recognize their +nature and their source. Sobs of exhaustion and distress—from +the girl that was in his charge. He lay a long time, trying to +understand.</p> +<p>On her knees beside him Beatrice saw the first flutter of his +eyelids. In awe, rather than rapture, her arms crept around him, +and she kissed his rain-wet brow. His eyes opened, looking +wonderingly into hers.</p> +<p>She saw the first light of recognition, then a half-smile, +gentle as a girl's, as he realized his own injuries. Of course Ben +Darby would smile in such a moment as this; his instincts, true and +manly, were always to try to cheer her. Presently he spoke in the +silence.</p> +<p>"The tree got me, didn't it?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Don't try to talk," she cautioned. "Yes—the tree fell on +you. But you're not going to die. You're going to live, +live—"</p> +<p>He shook his head, the half-smile flickering at his lips. "Let +me talk, Beatrice," he said, with just a whisper of his old +determination. "It's important—and I don't think—I have +much time."</p> +<p>Her eyes widened in horror. "You don't mean—"</p> +<p>"I'm going back in a minute—I can't hardly keep awake," he +said. His voice, though feeble, was preternaturally clear. She +heard every kind accent, every gentle tone even above the crackle +of the fire without and the beat of the rain. "I think it's the +limit," he went on. "I believe the tree got me—clear +inside—but you must listen to everything I say."</p> +<p>She nodded. In that eerie moment of suspense she knew she must +hear what he had to tell her.</p> +<p>"Don't wait to see what happens to me," he went on. "I'll either +go out or I'll live—you really can't help me any. Where's the +rifle?"</p> +<p>"The rifle was broken—when the tree fell."</p> +<p>"I knew it would be. I saw it coming." He rested, waiting for +further breath. "Beatrice—please, please don't stay here, +trying to save me."</p> +<p>"Do you think I would go?" she cried.</p> +<p>"You must. The food—is about gone. Just enough to last one +person through to the Yuga cabins—with berries, roots. Take +the pistol. There's six shots or so—in the box. Make every +one tell. Take the dead grouse too. The rifle's broken and we can't +get meat. It's just—death—if you wait. You can just +make it through now."</p> +<p>"And leave you here to die, as long as there's a chance to save +you?" the girl answered. "You couldn't get up to get water—or +build a fire—"</p> +<p>He listened patiently, but shook his head at the end. "No, +Bee—please don't make me talk any more. It's just death for +both of us if you stay. The food is gone—the rifle broken. +Your father's gang'll be here sooner or later—and they'd +smash me, anyway. I could hardly fight 'em off with those few +pistol shells—but by God I'd like to try—"</p> +<p>He struggled for breath, and she thought he had slipped back +into unconsciousness. But in a moment the faltering current of his +speech began again.</p> +<p>"Take the pistol—and go," he told her. "You showed me +to-day how to give up—and I don't want to kill—your +father—any more. I renounce it all! Ezram—forgive +me—old Ez that lay dead in the leaves." He smiled at the girl +again. "So don't mind leaving me. Life work's all spent—given +over. Please, Beatrice—you'd just kill yourself without +aiding me. Wait till the sun comes up—then follow up the +river—"</p> +<p>Unconsciousness welled high above him, and the lids dropped over +his eyes. The gloom still pressed about the cavern, yet a sun no +less effulgent than that of which he had spoken had risen for Ben. +It was his moment of renunciation, glorious past any moment of his +life. He had renounced his last, little fighting chance that the +girl might live. And Ezram, watching high and afar, and with +infinite serenity knowing at last the true balance of all things +one with another, gave him his full forgiveness.</p> +<p>The girl began to strip the wet clothes from his injured +body.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXXVI"></a> +<h2>XXXVI</h2> +<p>The trail was long and steep into Back There for Jeffery Neilson +and his men. Day after day they traveled with their train of pack +horses, pushing deeper into the wilds, fording mighty rivers, +traversing silent and majestic mountain ranges, climbing slopes so +steep that the packs had to be lightened to half before the gasping +animals could reach the crest. They could go only at a snail's +pace,—even in the best day's travel only ten miles, and often +a single mile was a hard, exhausting day's work.</p> +<p>Of course there was no kind of a trail for them to follow. As +far as possible they followed the winding pathways of big +game—as long as these led them in their general +direction—but often they were obliged to cut their way +through the underbrush. Time after time they encountered impassable +cliffs or rivers from which they were obliged to turn back and seek +new routes; they found marshes that they could not penetrate; +ranges they could not climb; wastes of slide rock where they could +make headway only at a creeping pace and with hourly risk of their +lives.</p> +<p>They had counted on slow travel, but the weeks grew into the +months before they even neared the obscure heart of Back There +where they thought Ben and Beatrice might be hidden. The way was +hard as they had never dreamed. Every day, it seemed to them, +brought its fresh tragedy: a long back-trailing to avoid some +impassable place, a fatiguing digression, perhaps several hours of +grinding work with the axe in order to cut a trail. Sometimes the +harness broke, requiring long stops on the trail to repair it, the +packs slipped continually from the hard going; and they found it +increasingly difficult to secure horse feed for the animals.</p> +<p>Even Indian ponies cannot keep fat on such grass as grows in the +deep shade of the spruce. They need the rich growths of the open +park lands to stiffen them for the grinding toil; and even with +good feeding, foresters know that pack animals must not be kept on +the trail for too many days in succession. Jeffery Neilson and his +men disregarded both these facts, with the result that the animals +lost flesh and strength, cutting down the speed of their advance. +Oaths and shouts were unavailing now: only cruel blows could drive +them forward at all.</p> +<p>They seemed to sense a great hopelessness in their undertaking. +Usually well-trained pack horses will follow their leader without +question, walk almost in his tracks, and the rider in front only +has to show the way. After the first few days of grinding toil, the +morale of the entire outfit began to break. The horses broke away +into thickets on each side; and time after time, one hour upon +another, the horsemen had to round them up again. When they came to +the great rivers—wild tributaries of the Yuga—they had +to follow up the streams for days in search of a place to ford. +Then they were obliged to carry the packs across in small loads, +making trip after trip with the utmost patience and toil. The +horses, broken in spirit, took the wild waters just as they climbed +the steep slopes, with little care whether they lived or died.</p> +<p>The days passed, June and July. Ever they moved at a slower +pace. One of the horses, giving up on a steep pitch and frenzied by +Ray's cruel, lashing blows, fell off the edge of the trail and shot +down like a plummet two hundred feet into the canyon +below—and thereupon it became necessary not only to spend the +rest of the day in retrieving and repairing the supplies that had +fallen with him, but also to heap bigger loads on the backs of the +remaining horses. And always they were faced by the cruel +possibility that this whole, mighty labor was in vain,—that +Ben and Beatrice might have gone to their deaths in the rapids, +weeks before.</p> +<p>The food stores brought for the journey were rapidly depleted. +The result was that they had to depend more and more upon a diet of +meat. Men can hold up fairly well on meat alone, particularly if it +has a fair amount of fat, but the effort of hunting and drying the +flesh into jerky served to cut down their speed.</p> +<p>The constant delays, the grinding, blasting toil of the day's +march, and particularly the ever-recurring crises of ford and +steep, made serious inroads on the morale of the three men. Just +the work of urging on the exhausted horses drained their nervous +energy in a frightful stream: the uncertainty of their quest, the +danger, the scarcity of any food but meat, and most of all the +burning hatred in their hearts for the man who had forced the +expedition upon them combined to torment them; even now, Ben Darby +had received no little measure of vengeance.</p> +<p>No experience of their individual lives had ever presented such +a daily ordeal of physical distress; none had ever been so +devastating to hope and spirit. There was not one moment of +pleasure, one instant of relief from the day's beginning to its +end. At night they went to sleep on hastily made beds, cursing at +all things in heaven and earth; they blasphemed with growing +savagery all that men hold holy and true; and degeneracy grew upon +them very swiftly. They quarreled over their tasks, and they hated +each other with a hatred only second to that they bore Darby +himself. All three had always been reckless, wicked, brutal men; +but now, particularly in the case of Ray and Chan, the ordeal +brought out and augmented the latent abnormalities that made them +criminals in the beginning, developing those odd quirks in human +minds that make toward perversion and the most fiendish crime.</p> +<p>Jeffery Neilson had almost forgotten the issue of the claim by +now. He had told the truth, those weary weeks before, when he had +wished he had never seen it. His only thought was of his daughter, +the captive of a relentless, merciless man in these far wilds. +Never the moon rose or the sun declined but that he was sick with +haunting fear for her. Had she gone down to her death in the +rapids? This was Neilson's fondest wish: the enfolding oblivion of +wild waters would be infinitely better than the fate Ben had hinted +at in his letter. Yet he dared not turn back. She might yet live, +held prisoner in some far-off cave.</p> +<p>At first all three agreed on this point: that they must not turn +back until either Ben was crushed under their heels or they had +made sure of his death. Ray had not forgotten that Ben alone stood +between him and the wealth and power he had always craved. He +dreamed, at first, that the deadly hardships of the journey could +be atoned for by years of luxury and ease. His mind was also +haunted with dark conjectures as to the fate of Beatrice, but +jealousy, rather than concern for her, was the moving impulse.</p> +<p>Neilson knew his young partner now. He saw clearly at last that +Ray was not and had never been a faithful confederate, but indeed a +malicious and bitter enemy, only waiting his chance to overthrow +his leader. They were still partners in their effort to rescue the +girl and slay her abductor; otherwise they were at swords' points. +And there would be something more than plain, swift slaying, now. +If Neilson could read aright, the actual, physical change that had +been wrought in Ray's face foretold no ordinary end for Ben. His +features were curiously drawn; and his eyes had a fixed, magnetic, +evil light. Occasionally in his darker hours Neilson foresaw even +more sinister possibilities in this change in Ray: the abnormal +intensity manifest in every look and word, the weird, evil +preoccupation that seemed ever upon him. There was not only the +fate of Ben to consider, but that of Beatrice too, out in these +desolate forests. But surely Ray's degenerate impulses could be +mastered. Neilson need not fear this, at least.</p> +<p>Chan Heminway, also, had developed marvelously in the journey. +He also was more assertive, less the underling he had been. He had +developed a brutality that, though it contained nothing of the +exquisite fineness of cruelty of which Ray's diseased thought might +conceive, was nevertheless the full expression of his depraved +nature. He no longer cowered in fear of Neilson. Rather he looked +to Ray as his leader, took him as his example, tried to imitate +him, and at last really began to share in his mood. In cruelty to +the horses he was particularly adept; but he was also given to +strange, savage bursts of insane fury.</p> +<p>"We must be close on them now," Neilson said one morning when +they had left the main gorge of the Yuga far behind them. "If +they're not dead we're bound to find trace of 'em in a few +days."</p> +<p>The hope seemed well-founded. It is impossible for even most of +the wild creatures—furtive as twilight shadows—to +journey through wood spaces without leaving trace of their goings +and comings: much less clumsy human beings. Ultimately the +searchers would find their tracks in the soft earth, the ashes of a +camp fire, or a charred cooking rack.</p> +<p>"And when we get 'em, we can wait and live on meat until the +river goes up in fall—then float on down to the Indian +villages in their canoe," Chan answered. "It will carry four of us, +all right."</p> +<p>Ray, Chan, Neilson and Neilson's daughter—these made four. +What remained of Ben when Ray was through could be left, silent +upon some hushed hillside, to the mercy of the wild creatures and +the elements.</p> +<p>Surely they were in the enemy-country now; and now a fresh fear +began to oppress them. They might expect an attack from their +implacable foe at any moment. It did not make for ease of mind to +know that any brush clump might be their enemy's ambush; that any +instant a concealed rifle might speak death to them in the silence. +Ben would have every advantage of fortress and ambush. They had not +thought greatly of this matter at first; but now the fear increased +with the passing days. Even Neilson was not wholly exempt from it. +It seemed a hideous, deadly thing, incompatible with life and hope, +that they should be plunging deeper, farther into helplessness and +peril.</p> +<p>If mental distress and physical discomfort can constitute +vengeance Ben was already avenged. Now that they were in the +hill-lands, out from the gorge and into a region of yellow beaver +meadows lying between gently sloping hills, their apprehension +turned to veritable terror. A blind man could see how small was +their fighting chance against a hidden foe who had prepared for +their coming. The skin twitched and crept when a twig cracked about +their camp at night, and a cold like death crept over the frame +when the thickets crashed under a leaping moose.</p> +<p>Ray found himself regretting, for the first time, that murderous +crime of his of months before. Even riches might not pay for these +days of dread and nights of terror: the recovery of the girl from +Ben's arms could not begin to recompense. Indeed, the girl's memory +was increasingly hard to call up. The mind was kept busy +elsewhere.</p> +<p>"We're walking right into a death trap," he told Neilson one +morning. "If he is here, what chance have we got; he'd have weeks +to explore the country and lay an ambush for us. Besides, I believe +he's dead. I don't believe a human being could have got down this +far, alive."</p> +<p>Chan too had found himself inclining toward this latter belief; +without Ray's energy and ambition he had less to keep him fronted +to the chase. Neilson, however, was not yet ready to turn back. He +too feared Ben's attack, but already in the twilight of advancing +years, he did not regard physical danger in the same light as these +two younger men. Besides, he was made of different stuff. The +safety of his daughter was the one remaining impulse in his +life.</p> +<p>And more and more, in the chill August nights, the talk about +the camp fire took this trend: the folly of pushing on. It was +better to turn back and wait his chances to strike again, Ray +argued, than to walk bald-faced into death. Sometime Ben must +return to the claim: a chance might come to lay him low. Besides, +ever it seemed more probable that the river had claimed him.</p> +<p>One rainy, disagreeable morning, as they camped beside the river +near the mouth of a small creek, affairs reached their crisis. They +had caught and saddled the horses; Ray was pulling tight the last +hitch. Chan stood beside him, speaking in an undertone. When he had +finished Ray cursed explosively in the silence.</p> +<p>Neilson turned. He seemed to sense impending developments. "What +now?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I'm not going on, that's what it is," Ray replied. "Neilson, +it's two against one—if you want to go on you can—but +Ray and I are going back. That devil's dead. Beatrice is, +too—sure as hell. If they ain't dead, he'll get us. I was a +fool ever to start out. And that's final."</p> +<p>"You're going back, eh—scared out!" Neilson commented +coldly.</p> +<p>"I'm going back—and don't say too much about being scared +out, either."</p> +<p>"And you too, Chan? You're against me, too?"</p> +<p>Chan cursed. "I'd gone a week ago if it'd been me. "We knew the +way home, at least."</p> +<p>The old man looked a long time into the river depths. Only too +well he realized that their decision was final. But there was no +answer, in the swirling depths, to the question that wracked his +heart: whether or not in these spruce-clad hills his daughter still +lived. It could only murmur and roar, without shaping words that +human ears could grasp, never relieving the dreadful uncertainty +that would be his life's curse from henceforth. He sighed, and the +lines across his brow were dark and deep.</p> +<p>"Then turn the horses around, you cowards," he answered. "I +can't go on alone."</p> +<p>For once neither Ray nor Chan had outward resentment for the +epithet. Secretly they realized that old Neilson was to the wall at +last, and like a grizzly at bay, it was safer not to molest him. +Chan went down to the edge of the creek to water his saddle +horse.</p> +<p>But presently they heard him curse, in inordinate and startled +amazement, as he gazed at some imprint in the mud of the shore. +They saw the color sweep from his face. In an instant his two +companions were beside him.</p> +<p>Clear and unmistakable in the mud they saw the stale imprint of +Ben's canoe as they had landed, and the tracks of both the man and +the girl as they had turned into the forest.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXXVII"></a> +<h2>XXXVII</h2> +<p>The dawn that crept so gray and mysterious over the frosty green +of spruce brought no hope to Beatrice, sitting beside the +unconscious form of Ben in the cave fronting the glade. Rather it +only brought the tragic truth home more clearly. Her love for him +had manifested itself too late to give happiness to either of them: +even now his life seemed to be stealing from her, into the valley +of the shadow.</p> +<p>She had watched beside him the whole night; and now she beheld a +sinister change in his condition. He was still unconscious, but he +no longer drew his breath at long intervals, softly and quietly. He +was breathing in short, troubled gasps, and an ominous red glow was +in his cheeks. She touched his brow, only to find it burning with +fever.</p> +<p>The fact was not hard to understand. The downpour of cold rain +in which he had lain, wounded, for so many hours had drawn the life +heat out of him, and some organic malady had combined with his +bodily injuries to strike out his life. Her predicament was one of +absolute helplessness. She was hundreds of miles—weary weeks +of march—from medical attention, and she could neither leave +him nor carry him. The wilderness forces, resenting the intrusion +into their secret depths, had seemingly taken full vengeance at +last. They had seemingly closed all gates to life and safety. They +had set the trap with care; and the cruel jaws had sprung.</p> +<p>She sat dry-eyed, incoherent prayers at her trembling lips. +Mostly she did not touch the man, only sat at his bedside in the +crude chair Ben had fashioned for her while the minutes rolled into +hours and the hours sped the night away,—in tireless vigil, +watching with lightless eyes. Once she bent and touched her lips to +his.</p> +<p>They were not cold now. They were warm with fever. But in the +strange twilight-world of unconsciousness he could neither know of +nor respond to her kiss. She patted down his covering and sometimes +held his hard hands warm between hers, as if she could thus keep +death from seizing them and leading him away. But her courage did +not break again.</p> +<p>The wan light showed her his drawn face; and just for an instant +her arms pressed about it. "I won't give up, Ben," she promised. +"I'll keep on fighting—to the last minute. And maybe I can +pull you through."</p> +<p>Beatrice meant exactly what she said: to the last minute. That +did not mean to the gray hour when, by all dictate of common sense, +further fight is useless. She meant that she would battle +tirelessly as long as one pale spark glowed in his spirit, as long +as his breath could cloud a glass. The best thing for her now, +however, was rest. She was exhausted by the strain of the night; +and she must save herself for the crisis that was sure to come. Ben +was sleeping easily now; the instant when his life hung in the +balance still impended.</p> +<p>She built up the fire, put on water to heat, covered the man +with added blankets, then lay down on Ben's cot. Soon she drifted +into uneasy slumber, waking at intervals to serve her patient.</p> +<p>The hours dragged by, the night sloped down to the forest; and +the dawn followed the night. Ben's life still flickered, like a +flame in the wind, in the twilight land between life and death.</p> +<p>Yet little could she do for him these first few days, except, in +her simple faith, to pray. Never an hour passed but that prayers +were at her lips, childlike, direct, entreating prayers from her +woman's heart. Of all her offices these were first: she had no +doubt but that they counted most. She sat by his bedside, kept him +covered with the warmest robes, hewed wood for the fire; but as yet +he had never fully emerged from his unconsciousness. Would he slip +away in the night without ever wakening?</p> +<p>But in the morning of the fourth day he opened his eyes vividly, +muttered, and fell immediately to sleep. He woke again at evening; +and his moving lips conveyed a message. In response she brought him +steaming grouse broth, administering it a spoonful at a time until +he fell to sleep again.</p> +<p>In the days that followed he was conscious to the degree that he +could drink broth, yet never recognizing Beatrice nor seeming to +know where he was. His fever still lingered, raging; yet in these +days she began to notice a slow improvement in his condition. The +healing agents of his body were hard at work; and doubt was removed +that he had received mortal internal injuries. She had set his +broken arm the best she could, holding the bones in place with +splints; but in all likelihood it would have to be broken and set +again when he reached the settlements. She began to notice the +first cessation of his fever; although weeks of sickness yet +remained, she believed that the crisis was past. Yet in spite of +these hopeful signs, she was face to face with the most tragic +situation of all. Their food was almost gone.</p> +<p>It would be long weeks before Ben could hope for sufficient +strength to start the journey down to the settlements, even if the +way were open. As it was their only chance lay in the fall rains +that would flood the Yuga and enable them to journey down to the +native villages in their canoe. These rains would not fall till +October. For all that she had hoarded their supplies to the last +morsel, eating barely enough herself to sustain life in her body, +the dread spectre of starvation waited just without the cave. She +had realized perfectly that Ben could not hope to throw off the +malady without nutritious food and she had not stinted with him; +and now, just when she had begun to hope for his recovery, she +shook the last precious cup of flour from the sack.</p> +<p>The rice and sugar were gone, long since. The honey she had +hoarded to give Ben—knowing its warming, nutritive +value—not tasting a drop herself. Of all their stores only a +few pieces of jerked caribou remained; she had used the rest to +make rich broth for Ben, and there was no way under heaven whereby +they might procure more.</p> +<p>The rifle was broken. The last of the pistol shots was fired the +day she had prepared the poisoned cup for Ben.</p> +<p>Yet she still waged the fight, struggling with high courage and +tireless resolution against the frightful odds that opposed her. +Her faith was as of that nameless daughter of the Gileadite; and +she could not yield. Not ambition, not hatred—not even such +fire of fury as had been wakened in Wolf Darby's heart that first +frenzied night on the hillside—could have been the impulse +for such fortitude and sacrifice as hers. It was not one of these +base passions—known in the full category to her rescuers who +were even now bearing down upon her valley—that kept the +steel in her thews and the steadfastness in her heart. She loved +this man; her love for him was as wholesome and as steadfast as her +own self; and the law of that love was to give him all she had.</p> +<p>There were few witnesses to this infinite giving of hers. Ben +himself still lingered in a strange stupor, remembering nothing, +knowing neither the girl nor himself. Perhaps the wild things saw +her desperate efforts to find food in the wilderness,—the +long hours of weary searching for a handful of berries that gave +such little nourishment to his weakened body, or for a few acorns +stored for winter by bird or rodent. Sometimes a great-antlered +moose—an easy trophy if the rifle had been unbroken—saw +her searching for wocus like a lost thing in the tenacious mud of +the marshes; and almost nightly a silent wolf, pausing in his +hunting, gazed uneasily through the cavern maw. But mostly her long +hours of service in the cave, the chill nights that she sat beside +Ben's cot, the dreary mornings when she cooked her own scanty +breakfast and took her uneasy rest, the endless labor of +fire-mending so that the cave could be kept at an even heat went +unobserved by mortal eyes. The healing forces of his body called +for warmth and nourishment; but for all the might of her efforts +she waged a losing fight.</p> +<p>What little wocus she was able to find she made into bread for +Ben; yet it was never enough to satisfy his body's craving. The +only meat she had herself was the vapid flesh that had been +previously boiled for Ben's broth; and now only a few pieces of the +jerked meat remained. She herself tried to live on such plants as +the wilderness yielded, and she soon began to notice the tragic +loss of her own strength. Her eyes were hollow, preternaturally +large; she experienced a strange, floating sensation, as if spirit +and flesh were disassociated.</p> +<p>Still Ben lingered in his mysterious stupor, unaware of what +went on about him; but his fever was almost gone by now, and the +first beginnings of strength returned to his thews. His mind had +begun to grope vaguely for the key that would open the doors of his +memory and remind him again of some great, half-forgotten task that +still confronted him, some duty unperformed. Yet he could not quite +seize it. The girl who worked about his cot was without his bourne +of knowledge; her voice reached him as if from an infinite +distance, and her words penetrated only to the outer edges of his +consciousness. It was not strictly, however, a return of his +amnesia. It was simply an outgrowth of delirium caused by his +sickness and injuries, to be wholly dispelled as soon as he was +wholly well.</p> +<p>But now the real hour of crisis was at hand,—not from his +illness, but from the depletion of their food supplies. Beatrice +had spent a hard afternoon in the forest in search of roots and +berries, and as she crept homeward, exhausted and almost +empty-handed, the full, tragic truth was suddenly laid bare. Her +own strength had waned. Without the miracle of a fresh food supply +she could hardly keep on her feet another day. Plainly and simply, +the wolf was at the door. His cruel fangs menaced not only her, but +this stalwart man for whose life she had fought so hard.</p> +<p>The fear of the obliterating darkness known to all the woods +people pressed close upon her and appalled her. She loved life +simply and primitively; and it was an unspeakable thing to lose at +the end of such a battle. Out so far, surrounded by such endless, +desolate wastes of gloomy forest, the Shadow was cold, +inhospitable; and she was afraid to face it alone. If Ben would +only waken and sustain her drooping spirit with his own! She was +lonely and afraid, in the shadow of the inert spruce, under the +gray sky.</p> +<p>She could hardly summon strength for the evening's work of +cutting fuel. The blade would not drive with its old force into the +wood. The blaze itself burned dully; and she could not make it leap +and crackle with its old cheer. And further misfortune was in store +for her when she crept into the cave to prepare Ben's supper.</p> +<p>A pack rat—one of those detested rodents known so well to +all northern peoples—had carried off in her absence two of +the three remaining sticks of jerked caribou. For a moment she +gazed in unbelieving and speechless horror, then made a frenzied +search in the darkened corners of the cabin.</p> +<p>This was no little tragedy: the two sticks of condensed and +concentrated protein might have kept Ben alive for a few days more. +It was disaster, merciless and sweeping. And the brave heart of the +girl seemed to break under the blow.</p> +<p>The hot, bitter tears leaped forth; but she suppressed the +bitter, hopeless sobs that clutched at her throat. She must not let +Ben know of this catastrophe. Likely in his stupor he would not +understand; yet she must not take the chance. She must nourish the +spark of hope in his breast to the last hour. She walked to the +mouth of the cave; and Famine itself stood close, waiting in the +shadows. She gazed out into the gathering gloom.</p> +<p>The tears blinded her eyes at first. Slowly the dark profile of +the spruce against the gray sky penetrated to her consciousness: +the somber beauty of the wilderness sky line that haunts the +woodsman's dreams. With it came full realization of the might and +the malevolency of these shadowed wilds she had battled so long. +They had got her down at last; they had crushed her and beaten her, +and had held up to scorn her sacrifice and her mortal strength. She +knew the wild wood now: its savage power, its remorselessness, and +yet, woods girl that she was, she could not forget its dark and +moving beauty.</p> +<p>The forest was silent to-night. Not a twig cracked or a branch +rustled. It was hushed, breathless, darkly sinister. All at once +her eyes peered and strained into the dusk.</p> +<p>Far across the valley, beyond the beaver marsh and on the +farther shore of the lake she saw a little glimmer of light through +the rift in the trees. She dared not believe in its reality at +first. Perhaps it was a trick of her imagination only, a +hallucination born of her starvation, child of her heartfelt +prayer. She looked away, then peered again. But, yes—a tiny +gleam of yellow light twinkled through the gloom! It was real, +<i>it was true</i>! A gleam of hope in the darkness of despair.</p> +<p>Her rescuers had come. There could be no other explanation. She +hastened into the cave, drew the blankets higher about Ben's +shoulders, then crept out into the dusk. Half running, she hastened +toward their distant camp fire.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXXVIII"></a> +<h2>XXXVIII</h2> +<p>Beatrice's first impulse was to run at a breakneck pace down the +ridge and about the lake into her father's camp, beseeching instant +aid to the starving man in the cave. She wished that she had a +firearm with which to signal to them and bring them at once to the +cavern. And it was not until she had descended the ridge and stood +at the edge of the beaver meadow that her delirious joy began to +give way to serious, thought.</p> +<p>She was brought to a halt first by the sight of the horses that +had wandered about the long loop of the lake and were feeding in +the rich grass of the meadow. The full moon rising in the east had +cast a nebulous glow over the whole countryside by now; and she +could make a hasty estimation of their numbers. It was evident at +once that her father had not made the expedition alone. The large +outfit implied a party of at least three,—indicating that Ray +Brent and Chan Heminway had accompanied him.</p> +<p>She had only fear and disdain for these two younger men; but +surely they would not refuse aid to Ben. Yet perhaps it was best to +proceed with some caution. These were her lover's enemies; if for +no other reason than their rage at her own abduction they might be +difficult to control. Her father, in all probability, would +willingly show mercy to the helpless man in the +cavern—particularly after she told him of Ben's consideration +and kindness—but she put no faith in Ray and Chan. She knew +them of old. Besides, she remembered there was a further +consideration,—that of a gold claim.</p> +<p>Could Ben have told her the truth when he had maintained that +they would kill him on sight if he did not destroy them first? Was +it true that he had waged the war in defense of his own rights? +Weeks and months had passed since she had seen her father's face: +perhaps her old control of him could no longer be relied upon. If +indeed their ownership of a rich claim depended upon Ben's death, +Ray and Chan could not be trusted at all.</p> +<p>She resolved to proceed with the utmost caution. Abruptly she +turned out of the beaver marsh, where the moonlight might reveal +her, and followed close to the edge of the timber, a course that +could not be visible from beyond the lake. She approached the lake +at its far neck, then followed back along the margin clear to the +edge of the woods in which the fire was built.</p> +<p>In her years in the woods Beatrice had learned to stalk, and the +knowledge was of value to her now. With never a misstep she took +down a little game trail toward the camp fire. She was within fifty +yards of it now—she could make out three dark figures seated +in the circle of firelight. Walking softly but upright she pushed +within ninety feet of the fire.</p> +<p>Then she waited, in doubt as to her course. She was still too +far distant to hear more than the murmur of their voices. If she +could just get near enough to catch their words she could probably +glean some idea of their attitude toward Ben. She pushed on nearer, +through the dew-wet brush.</p> +<p>Impelled by the excitement under which she advanced, her old +agility of motion had for the moment returned to her; and she crept +softly as a fawn between the young trees. One misstep, one rustling +branch or crackling twig might give her away; but she took each +step with consummate care, gently thrusting the tree branches from +her path.</p> +<p>Once a rodent stirred beneath her feet, and she froze—like +a hunting wolf—in her tracks. One of the three men looked up, +and she saw his face plainly through the low spruce boughs. And for +a moment she thought that this was a stranger. It was with a +distinct foreboding of disaster that she saw, on second glance, +that the man was Ray Brent.</p> +<p>She had never seen such change in human countenance in the space +of a few months. She did not pause to analyze it. She only knew +that his eyes were glittering and fixed; and that she herself was +deeply, unexplainably appalled. The man cursed once, blasphemously, +his face dusky and evil in the eerie firelight, but immediately +turned back to his talk. Beatrice crept closer.</p> +<p>Now she was near enough to catch an occasional word, but not +discern their thoughts. It was evident, however, that their +conversation was of Ben and herself,—the same topic they had +discussed nights without end. She caught her own name; once Chan +used an obscene epithet as he spoke of their enemy.</p> +<p>Her instincts were true and infallible to-night; and she was +ever more convinced of their deadly intentions toward Ben. It was +not wise to announce herself yet. Perhaps she would have to rely +upon a course other than a direct appeal for aid. Now her keen eyes +could see the whole camp: the three seated figures of the men, +their rifles leaning near them, their supplies spread out about the +fire.</p> +<p>At one side, quite to the edge of the firelight, she saw a +kyack—one of those square boxes that are hung on a pack +saddle—which seemed to be heaped with jerked caribou or moose +flesh. For the time of a breath she could not take her eyes from +it. It was food—food in plenty to sustain Ben through his +illness and the remaining weeks of their exile—and her eyes +moistened and her hands trembled at the sight. She had been taught +the meaning of famine, these last, bitter days. In reality she was +now in the first stage of starvation, experiencing the first, vague +hallucinations, the sense of incorporeality, the ever-declining +strength, the constant yearning that is nothing but the vitals' +submerged demand for food. The contents of the kyack meant +<i>life</i> to herself and to Ben,—deliverance and safety +when all seemed lost.</p> +<p>A daughter of the cities far to the south—even a child of +poverty—rarely could have understood the unutterable craving +that overswept her at the sight of this simple food. It was +unadorned, unaccompanied by the delicacies that most human beings +have come to look upon as essentials and to expect with every meal: +it was only animal flesh dried in the smoke and the sun. It not +only attracted her physically; but in that moment it possessed real +objective beauty for her; as it would have possessed for the most +cultivated esthete that might be standing in her place. This girl +was down to the most stern realities, and life and death hung in +the balance.</p> +<p>She went on her hands and knees, creeping nearer. Still she did +not make the slightest false motion, creeping with an uncanny +silence in the under shrubbery. And now the words came plain.</p> +<p>"But we must be near," Chan was saying. "They can't be more than +a mile or so from here. We'll find 'em in the morning—"</p> +<p>"If he doesn't find us first and shoot up our camp," Ray +replied. "I wish we'd built our fire further into the woods. Here +we've looked all day without even finding a track except those +tracks in the mud."</p> +<p>"They might be beyond the marsh," Neilson suggested.</p> +<p>"But Chan went over that way and didn't find a trace," Ray +objected. "But just the same—we'll make a real search +to-morrow. I believe we'll find the devil. And then—we can +leave this hellish country and go back in peace—if we don't +want to wait for the flood."</p> +<p>Beatrice's eyes were on his face, wondering what growth of +wickedness, what degeneracy had so filled his cruel eyes with light +and stamped his face with evil. This was the man to whom she must +look for mercy. Ben's life, if she led the three men to the cave, +would be in his hands. She sensed from his authoritative tone that +her father's control over him was largely broken. She hovered, +terrified and motionless, in her covert.</p> +<p>Ray reached for his rifle, glancing at the sights and drawing +the lever back far enough to see the brass of its shells. Chan's +lean face was drawn with a cruel glee.</p> +<p>"You can't keep your hands off that gun, Ray," he said. "You +sure are gettin' anxious."</p> +<p>"I won't use it on him," Ray replied, slowly and carefully. +"It's too good for him—except maybe the stock. He didn't lead +me clear out here just to see him puff out and blow up in a minute +with a rifle ball through his head. Just the same I want the gun +near me, all the time."</p> +<p>The two men looked at him, sardonic-eyed; and both of them +seemed to understand fully what he meant. They seemed to catch more +from the slow tones, so full of lust and frenzy that they seemed to +drop from his lips in an ugly monotone, than they did from the +words themselves. They took a certain grim amusement in these +quirks of abnormal depravity that had begun to manifest themselves +in Ray. The man's fingers were wide spread as he spoke, and his lip +twitched twice, sharply, when he had finished.</p> +<p>The words came clear and distinct to the listening girl. She +tried to take them literally—that Ray would not shoot Ben! +<i>"It's too good for him—except maybe the stock!"</i> Did he +mean <i>that</i> too! Was there any possible meaning in the world +other than that he was planning some unearthly, more terrible fate +for the man she loved! She would not yet yield to the dreadful +truth, yet even now terror was clutching at her throat, strangling +her; and the cold drops were beading her brow. Still the dark drama +of the fireside continued before her eyes.</p> +<p>Chan suddenly turned to Neilson, evidently imbued with Ray's +fervor. "What do you think of that, old man?" he asked menacingly. +Thus Chan, too, had escaped from Neilson's dominance: plainly Ray +was his idol now. It was also plain that he recognized attributes +of mercy and decency in his grizzled leader that might interfere +with his own and his companion's plans. "What's worrying +me—whether you're goin' to join in on the sport when we catch +the weasel!"</p> +<p>Sport! The word was more terrible to Beatrice than the vilest +oath he had used to emphasize it. She crouched, shivering. Watching +intently, she saw Ray look up, too, waiting for the reply; and her +father, sensing his lost dominance, bowed his head.</p> +<p>"You could hardly expect me to let him off easy—seeing +what he did to my daughter—"</p> +<p>"What he done to your daughter ain't all—I don't care if +he treated her like a queen of the realm all the time," Ray +interrupted harshly. "That makes no difference to neither me nor +Chan. The main thing is—he brought us out here, away from the +claim—and gave us months of the worst hell I ever hope to +spend. I guess you ain't forgotten what Chan found out in Snowy +Gulch—that the claim's recorded—in old Hiram's name. +This Darby's got a letter in his pocket from Hiram's brother that +would stand in any court. We've got to get that first. If Darby was +an angel I'd mash him under my heel just the same; we've gone too +far to start crawfishing. Just let me see him tied up in front of +me—"</p> +<p>Beatrice did not linger to hear more. She had her answer: only +in Ben's continued concealment lay the least hope of his salvation. +These wolves about the fire meant what they said. But already her +plans were shaping; and now she saw the light.</p> +<p>In the kyack of venison lay her own and her lover's safety: it +contained enough nutritious food to sustain them until the fall +rains could swell the Yuga and enable them to escape down to the +Indian encampment. Her mind was swift and keen as never before: +swiftly she perfected the last detail of her plan. The canoe, due +to Ben's foresight, was securely hidden in a maze of tall reeds on +the lake shore: they were certain to overlook it. The cavern, +however, was almost certain to be discovered in the next day's +search. They must make their escape to-night.</p> +<p>Ben, though terribly weakened, would be able to walk a short +distance with her help. They could slip into the deepest forest, +concealing themselves in the coverts until the three men had given +up the search and gone away. She would take their robes and +blankets to keep them warm; a camp fire would of course reveal +their hiding place. The work could easily be accomplished in the +midnight shadows: deliverance, salvation, life itself depended on +the tide of fate in the next few hours.</p> +<p>She intended to steal the kyack of dried meat without which Ben +and herself could not live. She crept back farther into the +underbrush; then waited, scarcely breathing, while the fire died +down. Already the three men were preparing to go to their bunks. +Chan had already lain down; her father was removing his coat and +boots. Ray, however, still sat in the firelight.</p> +<p>The moments passed. Would he never rise and go? The fire, +however, was dying: its circle of ruddy light ever drew inward. The +kyack was quite in the shadow now, yet she dared not attempt its +theft until the three men were asleep. She waited, thrilling with +excitement.</p> +<p>Chan and Neilson were seemingly asleep, and now Ray was knocking +the ashes from his pipe. He yawned, stretching wide his arms; then, +as if held by some intriguing thought, sat almost motionless, +gazing into the graying coals. Presently Beatrice heard him curse, +softly, in the shadows.</p> +<p>He got up, and removing his outer coat, rolled in his blankets. +The night hours began their mystic march across the face of the +wilderness.</p> +<p>Now was the time to act. As far as she could tell, the three men +were deeply asleep: at least the likelihood would be as great as at +any time later in the night. The fire was a heap of gray ashes +except for its red-hot center: the kyack was in gloom. Very softly +she crept through the thickets, meanwhile encircling the dying +fire, and came up behind it.</p> +<p>Now it was almost in reach: now her hands were at its loops. She +started to lift it in her arms.</p> +<p>But disaster still dogged her trail. Ray Brent had been too wary +of attack, to-night, to sink easily into deep slumber. He heard the +soft movement as Beatrice lifted the heavy canvas bag off the +ground; and with a startled oath sprang to his feet.</p> +<p>He leaped like a panther. "Who's there?" he cried.</p> +<p>Sensing immediate discovery the girl placed all her hope in +flight. Perhaps yet she could lose her pursuers in the darkness. +Still trying to hold the kyack of food that meant life to Ben, she +turned and darted into the shadows.</p> +<p>Like a wolf Ray sped after her. The moonlight showed her fleeing +figure in the trees, and shouting aloud he sprang through the +coverts to intercept her flight. The chase was of short duration +thereafter. Emburdened by the heavy box she could not watch her +step; and a protruding root caught cruelly at her ankle. She was +hurled with stunning force to the ground.</p> +<p>Desperate and intent, but in realization of impending triumph, +Ray's strong arms went about her.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XXXIX"></a> +<h2>XXXIX</h2> +<p>For the second time in his life Ray Brent felt the sting of +Beatrice's strong hand against his face. In the desperation of fear +she had smote him with all her force. His arms withdrew quickly +from about her; and her wide, disdainful eyes beheld a sinister +change in his expression. The moonlight was in his eyes, +silver-white; and they seemed actually to redden with fury, and +again she saw that queer, ghastly twitching at the corner of his +lips. The girl's defiance was broken with that one blow. She +dropped her head, then walked past him into the presence of her +father.</p> +<p>Neilson and Chan were on their feet now, and they regarded her +in the utter silence of amazement. Breathing fast, Ray came behind +her.</p> +<p>"Build up the fire, Chan," he said in a strange, grim voice. "We +want to see what we've caught."</p> +<p>Obediently Chan kicked the coals from under the ashes, and began +to heap on broken pieces of wood. The sticks smoked, then a little +tongue of yellow flame crept about the fuel. But still the +emburdened silence continued—the white-faced girl in the ring +of silent, watching men.</p> +<p>Slowly the fire's glow crept out to her, revealing—even +better than the bright moonlight—her wide, frightened eyes +and the dark, speculative faces of the men. Then Ray spoke sharply +in his place.</p> +<p>"Well, why don't you question her?" he demanded of Neilson. "I +suppose you know what she was doing. She was trying to steal food. +It looks to me like she's gone over to the opposite camp."</p> +<p>Her father sighed, a peculiar sound that seemed to come from +above the tree tops, as if fast-flying waterfowl were passing +overhead. "Is that so, daughter?" he asked simply.</p> +<p>"I was trying to take some of your food—to Ben," Beatrice +replied softly. "He's in need of it."</p> +<p>"You see, they're on intimate terms," Ray suggested viciously. +"Ben was in need of food—so she came here to steal it."</p> +<p>But Neilson acted as if he had not heard. "Why didn't you speak +to us—and tell us you were safe?" he asked. "We've come all +the way here to find you."</p> +<p>"Perhaps <i>you</i> did. If you had been here alone, I would +have told you. But Ray and Chan came all the way here to find Ben. +I heard what they said—back there in the brush. They intend +to kill him when they find him. I—I didn't want him +killed."</p> +<p>Her father stared at her from under his bushy brows. "After +carrying you from your home—taking you into danger and +keeping you a prisoner—you still want to protect him?"</p> +<p>The girl nodded. "And I want you to protect him, too," she said. +"Against these men." Suddenly she moved forward in earnest appeal. +"Oh, Father—I want you to save him. He's never touched +me—he's treated me with every respect—done everything +he could for me. When he was injured he told me to go back—to +take what little food there was, and go back—"</p> +<p>"I can take it, then, that you're out of food?" Ray asked.</p> +<p>"We're starving—and Ben's sick. Father, I make this one +appeal—if your love for me isn't all gone, you'll grant it. I +love him. You might as well know that now, as later. I want you to +save the man your daughter loves."</p> +<p>Chan cursed in the gloom, his lean face darkened; but Neilson +made no answer. Ray in his place sharply inhaled; but the sullen +glow in his eyes snapped into a flame.</p> +<p>If Beatrice had glanced at Ray, she would have ceased her appeal +and trusted everything to the doubtful mercy of flight,—into +the gloom of the forest. As it was, she did not fully comprehend +the cruel lust, like flame, that sped through his veins. She would +have hoped for no mercy if she could have seen the strange, black +surge of wrath in his face.</p> +<p>"He has been kind to me—and he was in the right, not in +the wrong. I know about the claim-jumping. Father, I want you to +stand between him and these men—help him—and give him +food. I didn't speak to you because I was afraid for +him—afraid you'd kill him or do some other awful thing to +him—"</p> +<p>Slowly her father shook his head. "But I can't save him now. He +brought this on himself."</p> +<p>"Remember, he was in the right," the girl pleaded brokenly. "You +won't—you couldn't be a partner to murder. That's all it +would be—murder—brutal, terrible, cold-blooded +murder—if you kill him without a fight. It couldn't be in +defense of me—I tell you he hasn't injured me—but was +always kind to me. It would be just to take that letter away from +him—"</p> +<p>"So he has the letter, has he?" Ray interrupted. He smiled +grimly, and his tone was again flat and strained. "And he's +sick—and starving. It isn't for your father to say, Beatrice, +what's to be done with Ben. There's three of us here, and he's just +one. Don't go interfering with what doesn't concern you, +either—about the claim. You take us where he is, and we'll +decide what to do with him."</p> +<p>Her eyes went to his face; and her lips closed tight. Here was +one thing, on this mortal earth, that she must not tell. Perhaps, +by the mercy of heaven, they would not find the cave, hidden as it +was at the edge of the little glade. The forests were boundless; +perhaps they would miss the place in their search. She +straightened, scarcely perceptibly.</p> +<p>"Yes, tell us where he is," her father urged. "That's the first +thing. We'll find him, anyway, in the morning."</p> +<p>The girl shook her head. She knew now that even if they promised +mercy she must not reveal Ben's whereabouts. Their rage and cruelty +would not be stayed for a spoken promise. The only card she had +left, her one last, feeble hope of preserving Ben's life, lay in +her continued silence. Ray's foul-nailed, eager hands could claw +her lips apart, but he could not make her speak.</p> +<p>"I won't tell you," she answered at last, more clearly than she +had spoken since her capture. "You said a few minutes ago I had +gone over—to the opposite camp. I am, from now on. He was in +the right, and he gave up his fight against you long ago. Now I +want to go."</p> +<p>Fearing that Neilson might show mercy, Ray leaped in front of +her. "You don't go yet awhile," he told her grimly. "I've got a few +minutes' business with you yet. I tell you that we'll find him, if +we have to search all year. And he'll have twice the chance of +getting out alive if you tell us where he is."</p> +<p>She looked into his face, and she knew what that chance was. Her +eyelids dropped halfway, and she shook her head. "I'd die first," +she answered.</p> +<p>"It never occurred to you, did it, that there's ways of +<i>making</i> people tell things." He suddenly whirled, with drawn +lips, to her father. "Neilson, is there any reason for showing any +further consideration to this wench of yours? She's betrayed +us—gone over to the opposite camp—lived for weeks, +willing, with Ben. I for one am never going to see her leave this +camp till she tells us where he is. I'm tired of talking and +waiting. I'm going to get that paper away from him, and I'm going +to smash his heart with my heel. We've almost won out—and I'm +going to go the rest of the way."</p> +<p>Neilson straightened, his eyes steely and bright under his +grizzled brows. Only too well he knew that this was the test. +Affairs were at their crisis at last. But in this final moment his +love for his daughter swept back to him in all its unmeasured +fullness,—and when all was said and done it was the first, +the mightiest impulse in his life. Ben had been kind to her, and +she loved him; and all at once he knew that he could not yield him +or her to the mercy of this black-hearted man before him.</p> +<p>He had lived an iniquitous life; he was inured to all except the +worst forms of wickedness; but for the moment—in love of his +daughter—he stood redeemed. He was on the right side at last. +His hand drew back, and his face was like iron.</p> +<p>"Shut that foul mouth!" he cautioned, with a curious, deadly +evenness of tone. "I haven't surrendered yet to you two wolves. If +one of you dares to lay a hand on Beatrice, I'll kill him where he +stands."</p> +<p>Even as he spoke his thought went to his rifle, leaning against +a dead log ten feet away. This was the moment of test: the jealousy +and rivalry and hatred between himself and Ray had reached the +crisis. And the spirit of murder, terrible past any demon of the +Pit, came stalking from the savage forest into the ruddy +firelight.</p> +<p>Ray leered, his muscles bunching. "And I say to you, you're a +dirty traitor too," he answered. "She ain't your daughter any more. +She's Ben Darby's squaw. She's not fit for a white man to touch any +more, for all her lies. You say one word and you'll get it +too."</p> +<p>And at that instant the speeding pace of time seemed to halt, +showing this accursed scene, so savage and terrible in the eerie +light of the camp fire, at the edge of the haunted, breathless +darkness, in vivid and ghastly detail. Neilson leaped forward with +all his power; and if his blow had gone home, Ray would have been +shattered beneath it like a tree in the lightning blast. But Ray's +arms were incredibly swift, and his rifle leaped in his hands.</p> +<p>The barrel gleamed. The roar reechoed in the silence. Neilson's +head bowed strangely; and for a moment he stood swaying, a ghastly +blankness on his face; then pitched forward in the dew-wet +grass.</p> +<p>Beatrice's last defense had fallen, seriously wounded; and Ray's +arm seized her as, screaming, she tried to flee.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XL"></a> +<h2>XL</h2> +<p>The shot that wounded Jeffery Neilson carried far through the +forest aisles, reëchoing against the hills, and arresting, for +one breathless moment, all the business of the wilderness. The +feeding caribou swung his horns and tried to catch the scent; the +moose, grubbing for water roots in the lake bottom, lifted his +grotesque head and stood like a form in black iron. It came clear +as a voice to the cavern where Ben lay.</p> +<p>The man started violently in his cot. His entire nervous system +seemed to react. Then there ensued a curious state in which his +physical functions seemed to cease,—his heart motionless in +his breast, his body tensely rigid, his breath held. There was an +infinite straining and travail in his mind.</p> +<p>The truth was that the sound acted much as a powerful stimulant +to his retarded nervous forces. It was the one thing his resting +nerve-system needed; it was as if chemicals were in suspension in a +crucible, and at a slight jar of the glass they made mysterious +union and expelled a precipitation. Almost instantly he recognized +the sound that had reached him, with a clear and unmistakable +recognition such as he had not experienced since the night of the +accident, as the report of a rifle. His mind gave a great leap and +remembered its familiar world.</p> +<p>A rifle—probably discharged by Beatrice in a hunt after +big game. It was true that their meat supply was low; he remembered +now. Yet it was curious that she should be hunting after dark. The +gloom was deep at the cavern mouth. Besides, he had always kept his +rifle from her, fearing that she might turn it against him. He +looked about him, trying to locate the source of the flood of light +on the cavern floor. It was the moon, and it showed that the girl +was gone. He started to sit up.</p> +<p>But his left arm did not react just properly to the command of +his brain. It impeded him, and its old strength was impaired. For a +moment more he lay quiet, deep in thought. Of course—he had +been injured by the falling tree. He remembered clearly, now. And +the rifle had been broken.</p> +<p>The only possible explanation for the shot was that a rifle had +been fired by some invader in their valley—in all probability +Neilson or one of his men. Beatrice's absence would also indicate +this fact: perhaps she had already joined her father and was on her +way back to Snowy Gulch with him. In that case, why had he himself +been spared?</p> +<p>He looked out of the door of the cavern, trying to get some idea +of the lateness of the hour. The very quality of the darkness +indicated that the night was far advanced. Neilson would not be +hunting game at this hour. Was his own war—planned long +ago—even now being waged in ways beyond his ken?</p> +<p>His old concern for Beatrice swept through him. With +considerable difficulty he got to his feet, then holding on to the +wail, guided himself to the shelf where they ordinarily kept their +little store of matches. He scratched one of them against the +wall.</p> +<p>In the flaring light his eyes made a swift but careful appraisal +of his surroundings. The girl's cot had not been slept in; and to +his great amazement he saw that their food supplies were spent. +Still holding to the wall he walked to the cave mouth.</p> +<p>Instantly his keen eyes saw the far-off gleam of the camp fire +on the distant margin of the lake. For all that the hour was late, +it burned high and bright. He watched it, vaguely conscious of the +insidious advance of a ghastly fear. Beatrice was his ally +now—if these weeks had sent home one fact to him it was +this—and her absence might easily indicate that she was +helpless in the enemy's hands. The thing suggested ugly +possibilities. Yet he could not aid her. He could scarcely walk; +even the knife that he wore at his belt was missing, probably +carried by Beatrice when she gathered roots in the woods.</p> +<p>But presently all questions as to his course were settled for +him. His straining ear caught the faintest, almost imperceptible +vibration in the air—a soundwave so dim and obscure that it +seemed impossible that the human mind could interpret it—but +Ben recognized it in a flash. In some great trouble and horror, in +the sullen light of that distant camp fire, Beatrice had screamed +for aid.</p> +<p>Only by the grace of the Red Gods had he heard the sound at all. +Except for the fact that the half-mile intervening was as still as +death, and that half the way the sound sped over water, he couldn't +have hoped to perceive it. If the wind had blown elsewhere than +straight toward him from the enemy camp, or if his marvelous sense +of hearing had been less acute, the result would have been the +same; and there could have been no answer from this dark man at the +cave mouth who stood so tense and still. Finally, by instinct as +much as by conscious intelligence, he identified the sound, marked +it as a reality rather than a fancy, and read the tragic need +behind it. Swiftly he started down the glade toward her.</p> +<p>Yet in a moment he knew that unless he conserved his strength he +could not hope to make a fourth of the distance. At the first steps +he swayed, half staggering. He had paid the price for his weeks of +illness and his injuries. If he had been in a sick room, under a +physician's care, he would have believed it impossible to walk +unsupported across the room. But need is the mother of strength, +and this was the test. Besides, he had had several days of +convalescence that had put back into his sinews a measure of his +mighty strength. Mostly he progressed by holding on to the trees, +pulling himself forward step by step.</p> +<p>Likely he would come too late to change the girl's fate. Yet +even now he knew he must not turn back. If the penalty were death, +there must be no hesitancy in him; he must not withhold one +step.</p> +<p>But it was a losing fight. The hill itself seemed endless; a +hundred cruel yards of marsh must be traversed before ever he +reached the nearest point by the lake. The enemy camp from where +Beatrice had called to him lay on the far side of the lake, a +distance of a full mile if he followed around the curving shore. +And black and bitter self-hatred swept like fire through him when +he realized that he could not possibly keep on his feet for so long +a way.</p> +<p>Was this all he had fought for—surging upward through +these long, weary weeks out of the shadow of death—only to +fall dead on the trail in the moment of Beatrice's need? Instantly +he knew that nothing in his life, no other desire or dream, had +ever meant as much to him as this: that he might reach her side in +time. Even his desire for vengeance, in that twilight madness, like +Roland's, that had shaped his destiny, had been wavering and feeble +compared to this. And no moment of his existence had ever been so +dark, so bereft of the last, dim star of hope that lights men's way +in the deep night of despair.</p> +<p>He gave no thought to the fact of his own helplessness against +three armed men in case he did succeed in reaching their camp. The +point could not possibly be considered. The imperious instincts +that forced him on simply could not take it into reckoning. He knew +only he must reach her side and put in her service all that he +had.</p> +<p>He fell again and again as he tried to make headway in the +marsh. But always he forced himself up and on. Only too plain he +saw that the time was even now upon him when he could no longer +keep his feet at all. But still he plunged on, and with tragically +slow encroachments the shore line drew up to him.</p> +<p>But he could not go on. The fire itself was hardly a quarter of +a mile distant, directly across the lake, but to follow the long +shore was an insuperable mile. Already his leg muscles were failing +him, refusing to the respond to the impulse of his nerves. Yet it +might be that if he could make himself heard his enemies would +leave the girl for a moment, at least—give her an instant's +respite—while they came and dispatched his own life. Whatever +they were doing to her, there in that ring of firelight, might be +stayed for a moment, at least.</p> +<p>But at that instant he remembered the canoe. He had always kept +it hidden in a little thicket of tall reeds,—if only the girl +had not removed it from its place in his weeks of sickness! He +plunged down into the tall tules. Yes, the boat was still in +place.</p> +<p>It took all the strength of his weakened body to push it out +from the reeds into the water. Then he seized the long pole they +had sometimes used to propel themselves over the lake. Except for +his injured arm, the paddle would have been better—he could +have made better time and escaped the danger of being stranded in +deep water—but he doubted that he could handle it with his +faltering arm. He pushed off, putting most of the strain on his +uninjured right arm.</p> +<p>The canoe was strongly but lightly made, so that it could be +portaged with greatest possible ease; and his strokes, though +feeble, propelled it slowly through the water. The great, white +full moon, beloved of long ago, looked down from above the tall, +dark heads of the spruce and changed the little water-body into a +miracle of burnished silver. In its light Ben's face showed pale, +but with a curious, calm strength.</p> +<p>The lake seemed untouched by the faint breath of wind that blew +from the distant shore. The waters lay quiet, and the trout beneath +saw the black shadow of the canoe as it passed. A cow moose and her +calf sprang up the bank with a splash, frightened by the poling +figure in the stern. And on the far shore, clear where the lake had +its outlet in a small river, even more keen wilderness eyes might +have beheld the black, moving dot that was the craft. But the +distance was too far and the wind was wrong for the keen mind +behind the eyes to make any sort of an interpretation.</p> +<p>It might have been that Fenris the wolf, running with a female +and two younger males that he had mastered that long-ago night on +the ridge, paused in his hunting to watch and wonder. But his wild +brute thoughts were not under the bondage of memory to-night; his +savage heart was thrilled and full; and more than likely he did not +even turn his head.</p> +<p>Ray and Chan, standing beside their prisoner in their grisly +camp on the opposite shore, might have beheld Ben's approach if +weightier matters had not occupied their minds. They had only to +walk to the edge of the firelight and stare down through a rift in +the trees to see him. But they stood with the angry glare revealing +a strange and sinister intentness in their drawn faces and ominous +speculations in their evil eyes.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XLI"></a> +<h2>XLI</h2> +<p>It was a wilderness moon that rose over the spruce +to-night,—white as new silver, incredibly large, inscrutably +mysterious. The winds had whisked away the last pale cloud that +might have dimmed its glory, and its light poured down with equal +bounty on peak and hill, forest and yellow marsh. The heavy woods +partook most deeply of its enchantment: tall, stately trees pale +and nebulous as if with silver frost, each little stream dancing +and shimmering in its light, every glade laid with a fairy +tapestry, every shadow dreadful and black in contrast. The +wilderness breathed and shivered as if swept with passion.</p> +<p>The wilderness moon is the moon of desire; and all this great +space of silence seemed to respond. It seemed to throb, like one +living entity, as if in longing for something lost long ago—a +half-forgotten happiness, a glory and a triumph that were gone +never to return. No creatures that followed the woods trails were +dull and flat to-night. They were all swept with mystery, knowing +vague longings or fierce desires. It was the harvest moon; but here +it did not light the fields so that men might harvest grain. Rather +it illumined the hunting trails so that the beasts of prey might +find relief from the wild lusts and seething ferment that was in +their veins. But mostly the forest mood was disconsolate, rather +than savage, to-night. The wild geese on the lake called their +weird and plaintive cries, their strange complaints that no man +understands; the loons laughed in insane despair; and the coyotes +on the ridge wailed out the pain of living and the vague longings +of their wild hearts.</p> +<p>In the glory of that moon Fenris the wolf knew the same, +resistless longings that so many times before had turned him from +the game trails. There was something here that was unutterably dear +to him,—something that drew him, called him like a voice, and +he could not turn aside. Because he was a beast, he likely did not +know the force that was drawing him again along the lake shore. Yet +the souls of the lower creatures no man knows; and perhaps he had +conscious longings, profoundly intense, for a moment's touch of a +strong hand on his shoulder,—one never-to-be-forgotten caress +from a certain god that had gone to a cave to live. It was true +that his wild instincts, ever more in dominance these past weeks, +would likely halt him at the cavern maw, permitting no intimacy +other than to ascertain that all was well. They were too strong +ever to brook man's control again. The moon was a moon of desire, +but only because it was also the moon of memory,—and perhaps +memories, stirring and exalting, were sweeping through him. +Straight as an arrow he turned toward the cave.</p> +<p>His followers—the gaunt female and two younger males, the +structure about which the winter pack would form—hesitated at +first. They had no commanding memories of the cavern on the far +side of the lake. Yet Fenris was their leader; by the deep-lying +laws of the pack they must follow where he led. They could not +decoy him into the trails of game. As ever they sped swiftly, +silently after him.</p> +<p>In this forest of desires Ben knew but one,—that he might +yet be of aid to Beatrice. But he knew in his heart that it was a +vain hope. He was within a hundred yards of Ray's camp now, but the +struggle to reach the lake and the poling across its waters had +brought him seemingly to the absolute limit of his strength, clear +to the brink of utter exhaustion. Never in his life before had he +known the full meaning of fatigue,—fatigue that was like a +paralysis, blunting the mechanism of the brain, burning like a slow +fire in his muscles, poisoning the vital fluids of his nerves. +Stroke after stroke, never ceasing!--The flame was high, +crackling—just before him. Through a rift in the trees he +could see the outline of two men and the slim form of the girl. +Just a few yards more.</p> +<p>But of all the desires that the moon invoked in the woods people +there were none so unredeemed, so wicked and cruel as this that +slowly wakened in the evil hearts of these two degenerate men, +Beatrice's captors. She sensed it only vaguely at first. All the +disasters that had fallen upon her had not taught her to accept +such a thing as this: surely this would be spared her, at least. +There is a kindly blind spot in the brain that often will not let +the ugly truth go home.</p> +<p>For a strange, still moment Ray's face seemed devoid of all +expression. It was flat and lifeless as dark clay. Then Beatrice +felt the insult of his quickening gaze.</p> +<p>"Put a rope around her wrists, Chan," he said. "We don't want to +take chances on her getting away."</p> +<p>He spoke slowly, rather flatly. There was nothing that her +senses could seize upon—either in his face or voice to +justify the swift, strangling, killing horror that came upon her. +He stood simply gazing, and as she met his gaze her lips parted and +drew back in a grimace of terror; thus they stood until the blood +began to leap fast in Chan's veins. She needed no further +disillusionment. Chan spoke behind her, a startled oath cut off +short, and she felt him moving swiftly toward her. It was her last +instant of respite; and her muscle set and drew for a final, +desperate attempt at self-defense.</p> +<p>She wore Ben's knife at her belt, and her hand sped toward it. +But the motion, fast as it was, came too late. Chan saw it; and +leaping swiftly, his arms went about her and pinned her own arms to +her sides.</p> +<p>She tried in vain to fight her way out of his grasp. She +writhed, screaming; and in the frenzy of her fear she all but +succeeded in hurling him off. She managed to draw the knife clear +of the sheath, yet she couldn't raise her arm to strike. Ray was +aiding his confederate now; and in an instant more she was +helpless.</p> +<p>Their drawn faces bent close to hers. She felt their hot hands +as they drew her wrists in front of her and fastened them with a +rope. "Not too tight, Chan," Ray advised. "We don't want her to get +uncomfortable before we're done with her. Don't tie her ankles; she +can't run through the brush with her arms tied.—Now give her +a moment to breathe."</p> +<p>They stood on each side of her, regarding her with secret, +growing excitement. Already they had descended too far to know pity +for this girl. The wide-open eyes, so dark with terror and in +contrast with the stark paleness of her face, the lips that +trembled so piteously, the slender, girlish figure so helpless to +their depraved desires moved them not at all.</p> +<p>The scene was one of never-to-be-forgotten vividness. The +tenderness and mercy, most of all the restraint that has become +manifest in men in these centuries since they have left their +forest lairs to live in permanent abodes, had no place here. About +them ringed the primeval forest, ensilvered by the moon; the fire +crackled with a dread ferocity; and at the edge of the thickets the +motionless form of Jeffery Neilson lay with face buried in the +soft, summer grass. All was silent and motionless, except the +fierce crackling of the fire; except a curious, intermittent, +upward twitching of the corner of Ray's lips.</p> +<p>"So you and Ben are bunkies now, are you?" he asked slowly, +without emphasis.</p> +<p>But the girl made no reply, only gazing at him with starting +eyes.</p> +<p>"A traitor to us, and Ben's squaw!" He turned fiercely to Chan. +"I guess that gives us right to do what we want to with her. And +now she can yell if she wants to for her lover to come and save +her."</p> +<p>She did not even try to buy their mercy by informing them where +they might find Ben. Only too well she knew that their dreadful +intentions could not be turned aside: she would only sacrifice Ben +without aiding herself. Ray moved toward her, his eyes deeply +sunken, the pupils abnormally enlarged.</p> +<p>"You haven't lost all your looks," he told her breathlessly. +"That mouth is still pretty enough to kiss. And I guess you won't +slap—this time—"</p> +<p>He drew her toward him, his dark face lowering toward hers. She +struggled, trying to wrench away from him. Helpless and alone, the +moment of final horror was at hand. In this last instant her whole +being leaped again to Ben,—the man whose strength had been +her fort throughout all their first weeks in the wilds, but whom +she had left helpless and sick in the distant cavern. Yet even now +he would rise and come to her if he knew of her peril. Her voice +rose shrilly to a scream. "Ben—help me!"</p> +<p>And Ray's hands fell from her shoulders as he heard the +incredible answer from the shore of the lake. The brush rustled and +cracked: there was a strange sound of a heavy footfall,—slow, +unsteady, but approaching them as certain as the speeding stars +approach their mysterious destinations in the far reaches of the +sky. Ray straightened, staring; Chan stood as if frozen, his hands +half-raised, his eyes wide open.</p> +<p>"I'm coming, Beatrice," some one said in the coverts. Her cries, +uttered when her father fell, had not gone unheard. In the last +stages of exhaustion, deathly pale yet with a face of iron, Ben +came reeling toward them out of the moonlight.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="XLII"></a> +<h2>XLII</h2> +<p>Ben walked quietly into the circle of firelight and stood at +Beatrice's side. But while Ray and Chan gazed at him as if he were +a spectre from the grave, Beatrice's only impulse was one of +immeasurable and unspeakable thankfulness. No fate on earth was so +dreadful but that it would be somewhat alleviated by the fact of +his presence: just the sight of him, standing beside her, put her +in some vague way out of Ray's power to harm. Exhausted, reeling, +he was still the prop of her life and hope.</p> +<p>"Here I am," he said quietly. "The letter's in my pocket. Do +what you want with me—but let Beatrice go."</p> +<p>His words brought Ray to himself in some degree at least. The +ridiculous fear of the moment before speedily passed away. Why, the +man was exhausted—helpless in their hands—and the +letter was in his pocket. It meant <i>triumph</i>—nothing +else. All Ray's aims had been attained. With Ben's death the claim, +a fourth of which had been his motive when he had slain Ezram, +would pass entirely to him,—except for such share as he would +have to give Chan. His star of fortune was in the sky. It was his +moment of glory,—long-awaited but enrapturing him at +last.</p> +<p>Neilson lay seriously wounded, perhaps dead by now. Whatever his +injuries, he would not go back with them to share in the gold of +the claim. The girl, also, was his prey,—to do with what he +liked.</p> +<p>"I see you've come," he answered. "You might as well; we'd have +found you to-morrow." His voice was no longer flat, but rather +exultant, boasting. "You thought you could get away—but we've +shown you."</p> +<p>Ben nodded. "You are—" he strained for the name he had +heard Beatrice speak so often—"Ray Brent?" His eyes fell to +the form of Neilson, wounded beyond the fire. "I see you've been at +your old job—killing. It was you who killed Ezra +Melville."</p> +<p>Ray smiled, ever so faintly: this was what he loved. "You're +talking to the right man. Anything you'd like to do about it?"</p> +<p>Ben's face hardened. "There is nothing I can do, now. You came +too late. But I would have had something to do if I had my rifle. +I'm glad it was you, not Beatrice's father. I ask you +this—will you accept my proposition. To take Ezram's letter, +destroy it and me too—and let the girl go in safety?"</p> +<p>Beatrice stretched her bound arms and touched his hairy wrist. +"No, Ben," she told him quietly. "There's no use of trying to make +such a bargain as that. Men that murder—and assault +women,—won't keep their word."</p> +<p>"They were about to attack you, were they?" His voice dropped a +tone; otherwise it seemed the same.</p> +<p>"Yes—just as you came."</p> +<p>He turned once more to Ray, eyeing him with such a look of +contempt and scorn that it smarted like a whiplash in spite of the +protecting mantel of his new-found triumph. "Oh, you depraved +dogs!" he told them quietly and distinctly. "You yellow, mongrel +cowards!"</p> +<p>Ray straightened, stung by the words. "And I'll make you wish +you was dead before you ever said that," he threatened. "I'll tell +you what you wanted to know a minute ago—and I tell you no. I +won't make any deal with you. We'll do what we like to you, and +we'll do what we like with your dirty squaw, too—the woman +you've been living with all these months. We've got you where we +want you. You're in no fix to make terms. Chan—put a rope +around his legs and a gag in his rotten mouth!"</p> +<p>They moved toward him simultaneously, and Ben summoned the last +jot of his almost-spent strength to hurl them off. They did not +need deadly weapons for this wasted form. Yet for the duration of +one second Ben fought with an incredible ferocity and valor.</p> +<p>He hurled Chan from his path, and his sound right arm leaped to +Ray's throat in a death grip. For that one instant his old-time +strength returned to him,—as to Samson as his arms went about +the pillars of the temple. They found him no weakling, in that +first instant, but a deadly, fighting beast, the "Wolf" Darby of +the provinces,—his finger nails sinking ever deeper into the +flesh of Ray's throat, his body braced against Chan's attack. And +for all that Beatrice's arms were tied, she leaped like a she-wolf +to her lover's aid.</p> +<p>But such an unequal battle could last only an instant. Ray +focused his attack upon Ben's injured left arm, Chan struck once at +the girl, hurling her to the ground with a base blow, then lashed +brutal blows into Ben's face. The burst of strength ebbed as +quickly as it had come: his legs wilted under him, and he sank +slowly to the ground.</p> +<p>Maddened with battle, for a moment more Chan lashed cowardly +blows into his face; and he left the brutal labor only to help Ray +affix ropes about his ankles. Then the two conquerors stood erect, +breathing loudly.</p> +<p>Seemingly the utter limit of their brutality was +reached,—but for the moment only. A strange and foreboding +silence fell over the camp: only the sound of troubled breathing +was heard above the lessening crackle of the fire. They did not +turn at once again to the work of crushing Ben's life out with +their fists and boots, nor did they restrain Beatrice as she +crawled over the blood-stained grass to reach her lover's side.</p> +<p>"Let her go," Ray said to Charley. "She can't help him any."</p> +<p>It was true. They had put up their last defense. The girl crept +nearer, lying almost prone beside him, and her soft hands stole +over his bruised flesh. But no tears came now. She was past the +kindly mercy of tears. She could only gaze at him, and sometimes +dry half-sobs clutched at her throat. The man half-opened his eyes, +smiling.</p> +<p>Life still remained in his rugged body. Even the cruel test of +the last hour had not taken that from him. The sturdy heart still +beat, and the breath still whispered through his lips: there was +life in plenty to afford such sport as Ray and Chan might have for +him.</p> +<p>The last, least quality of redemption—such magic and +beauty as might have been wrought by the firelight dancing over the +moonlit glade—was quite gone now. The powers of wickedness +were in the ascendency, and this was only the abode of horror. Yet +it was all tragically true, not a nightmare from which she would +soon waken. This was the remote heart of Back There—a +primeval land where the demons of lust and death walked +unrestrained—and the shadow of the moonlit trees fell dark +upon her.</p> +<p>The back logs were burning dully now, and the coals were red, +and Chan and Ray took seats on a huge, dead spruce to talk over +their further plans. It was all easy enough. They could linger +here, living mostly on meat, until the rising waters of the Yuga +could carry them down to the Indian villages. Their methods and +procedure in regard to Ben were the only remaining questions.</p> +<p>For a few minutes they took little notice of the prone figures +at the far edge of the fading firelight. In their hands they were +as helpless as Jeffery Neilson, left already by the receding +radiance to the soft mercy of the shadows. Attention could be given +them soon enough. Their own triumph was beginning to give way to +deep fatigue.</p> +<p>Ben and Beatrice had talked softly at first, accepting their +fate at last and trying to forget all things but the fact of each +other's presence. They had kept the faith to-night, they had both +been true; and perhaps they had conquered, in some degree, the +horror of death. His right hand held hers close to his lips, and +only she could understand the message in its soft pressure, and the +gentle, kindly shadows in his quiet eyes. But presently her gaze +fastened on some object in the grass beside him.</p> +<p>He did not understand at first. He knew enough not to attract +his enemies' attention by trying to turn. The girl relaxed again, +but her hand throbbed in his, and her eyes shone somberly as if the +luster of some strange, dark hope.</p> +<p>"What is it?" he asked whispering.</p> +<p>"I see a way out—for us both," she told him. She knew he +would not misunderstand and dream that she saw an actual avenue to +life and safety. "Don't give any sign."</p> +<p>"Then hurry," he urged. "They may be back any instant. What is +it?"</p> +<p>"A way to cheat 'em—to keep them from torturing +you—and to save me—from all the things they'll do to +me—when you're dead. Oh, Ben—you won't fail +me—you'll do it for me."</p> +<p>He smiled, gently and strongly. "Do you think I'd fail you +now?"</p> +<p>"Then reach your good arm on the other side—soft as you +can. There's a knife lying there—your own knife—they +knocked out of my hand. They'll jump at the first gleam. You know +what to do—first me, in the throat—then yourself."</p> +<p>His face showed no horror at her words. They were down to the +most terrible realities; and as she had said, this was the way out! +The great kindness still dwelt in his eyes—and she knew he +would do as she asked.</p> +<p>One gleam of steal, one swift touch at the throat—and they +would never know the unspeakable fate that their depraved captors +planned for them. <i>It was no less than victory in the last +instant of despair!</i> It was freedom: although they did not know +into what Mystery and what Fear the act would dispatch them, it was +freedom from Ray and Chan, none the less. And Ben welcomed the plan +as might a prisoner, waiting in the death-cell, welcome a +reprieve.</p> +<p>He turned, groping with his hand. There was no use of waiting +longer. The knife lay just beyond his reach; and softly he moved +his body through the grass.</p> +<p>But this gate to mercy was closed before they reached it. A +sudden flaring of the fire revealed them—the gleam of the +blade and Ben's stretching hand—and Ray left his log in a +swift, catlike leap.</p> +<p>If Ben had possessed full use of both hands there still might +have been time to send home the two crucial blows, or at least to +dispatch Beatrice out of Ray's power to harm. But his injured arm +impeded him, and his hand fumbled as he tried to seize the hilt. +With a sharp oath Ray crushed the blade into the ground with his +heel; then kicked viciously at the prone body of his enemy.</p> +<p>And at that first base blow his rage and blood-lust that had +been gathering was swiftly freed. It was all that was needed to set +him at the work of torture. For an instant he stood almost +motionless except for the spasmodic twitching—now almost +continuous—at his lips and for the slow turning of his head +as he looked about for a weapon with which he could more quickly +satiate the murder-madness in his veins. The knife appealed to him +not at all; but his eye fell on a long, heavy club of spruce that +had been cut for fuel. He bent and his strong hands seized it.</p> +<p>As he swung it high the girl leaped between—with a last, +frantic effort, wholly instinctive—to shield Ben's body with +her own. But it was only an instant's reprieve. Chan had followed +Ben, and sharing Ray's fiendish mood, jerked her aside. Ben raised +himself up as far as he could at a final impulse to thrust the girl +out of harm's way.</p> +<p>Yet it was to be that Ray's murderous blow was never to go home. +A mighty and terrible ally had come to Ben's aid. He came pouncing +from the darkness, a gaunt and dreadful avenger whose code of death +was as remorseless as Ray's own.</p> +<p>It was Fenris the wolf, and he had found his master at last. +Missing him at the accustomed place in the cave, he had trailed him +to the lake margin: a smell on the wind had led him the rest of the +way. He was not one to announce his coming by an audible footfall +in the thicket. Like a ghost he had glided almost to the edge of +the firelight, lingering there—with a caution learned in +these last wild weeks of running with his brethren—until he +had made up his brute mind in regard to the strangers in the camp. +But he had waited only until he saw Ray kick the helpless form +before him,—that of the god that Fenris, for all the wild had +claimed him, still worshipped in his inmost heart. With fiendish, +maniacal fury he had sprung to avenge the blow.</p> +<p>And his three followers, trained by the pack laws to follow +where he led, and keyed to the highest pitch by their leader's +fury, leaped like gray demons of the Pit in his wake.</p> +<br> +<p>XLII</p> +<p>As a young tree breaks and goes down in the gale Ray Brent went +down before the combined attack of the wolves. What desperate +struggle he made only seemed to increase their fury and shatter him +the faster. Utterly futile were all his blows: his frantic, +piercing screams of fear and agony raised to heaven, but were +answered with no greater mercy than that he would have shown to Ben +a moment before.</p> +<p>Seemingly in an instant he was on his back and the ravening pack +were about him in a ring. In that lurid firelight their fangs +gleamed like ivory as they flashed, here and there, over his body +and throat, and their fierce eyes blazed with pale-blue +fire,—the mark and sign of the blood madness of the beasts of +prey.</p> +<p>Seemingly in a single instant the life had been torn from him, +leaving only a strange, huddled, ghastly thing beside the dying +fire. But the pack leaped from him at once. Fenris had caught sight +of Chan's figure as he ran for the nearest tree and seemingly with +one leap he was upon him. He sprang at him from the side; and his +fangs gleamed once.</p> +<p>He had struck true, his fangs went home, and the life went out +of Chan Heminway in a single, neighing scream. He pitched forward, +shuddered once in the soft grass, and lay still. The pack surged +around his body, struck at it once or twice, then stood growling as +if waiting for their leader's command.</p> +<p>Before ever Ray fell, Ben had taken what measures of +self-defense he could in case the pack, forgetting its master's +master, might turn on himself and the girl. He had reached the +knife hilt and severed the ropes about the girl's wrists. "Stay +behind me," he cautioned. "Don't move a muscle."</p> +<p>He knew that any attempt to reach and climb a tree would attract +the attention of the pack and send them ravening about her. Again +he knew that her life as well as his own depended on his control of +the pack leader. He saw Chan go down, seemingly in a single +instant, and he braced himself against attack. "Down, Fenris!" he +shouted. "Down—get down!"</p> +<p>The great wolf started at the voice, then stood beside the +fallen, gazing at Ben with fierce, luminous eyes. "Down, down, +boy," Ben cautioned, in a softer voice. "There, old +fellow—down—down."</p> +<p>Then Fenris whined in answer, and Ben knew that he was no longer +to be feared. The three lesser wolves seemed startled, standing in +a nervous group, yet growling savagely and eyeing him across the +dying fire. For a moment Fenris's fury had passed to them, but now +that his rage was dead, all they had left was an inborn fear of +such a breed as this,—these tall forms that died so easily in +their fangs. Fenris trotted slowly toward Ben, but with the true +instincts of the wild his followers knew that this was no affair of +fangs and death. He came in love, in a remembered comradeship, just +as often he had led them to the mouth of the cavern, and they did +not understand. They slowly backed away into the shadows, fading +like ghosts.</p> +<p>Ben's arms, in unspeakable gratitude, went about the shoulders +of the wolf. Beatrice, sobbing uncontrollably yet swept with that +infinite thankfulness of the redeemed, crept to his side. Fenris +whined and shivered in the arms of his god.</p> +<p>Quietude came at last to that camp beside the lake, in the far, +hidden heart of Back There. Once more the blood moved with sweet, +normal tranquillity in the veins, the thrill and stir died in the +air, and the moonlight was beautiful on the spruce.</p> +<p>The wolves had gone. Fenris's three brethren had slipped away, +perhaps wholly mystified and deeply awed by their madness of a +moment before; and from the ridge top they had called for their +leader to join them. He had done his work, he had avenged the base +blow that had seemed to strike at his own wild heart, he had +received the caress he had craved,—and there was no law for +him to stay. The female called enticingly; the wild game was +running for his pleasure on the trails.</p> +<p>Ben had watched the struggle in his fierce breast, and +Beatrice's eyes were soft and wonderfully lustrous in the subdued +light as she gave the wolf a parting caress. But he could not stay +with them. The primal laws of his being bade otherwise. His was the +way of the open trails, the nights of madness and the rapture of +hunting—and these were folk of the caves! They were not his +people, although his love for them burned like fire in his +heart.</p> +<p>He could not deny the call of his followers on the ridge. It was +like a chain, drawing him remorselessly to them. Whining, he had +sped away into the darkness.</p> +<p>The fire had been built up, Beatrice had rallied her spent +strength by full feeding of the rich, dried meat, and had done what +she could for Neilson's injury. Ben, exhausted, had lain down in +some of the blankets of his enemy's outfit. Neilson was not, +however, mortally hurt. The bullet had coursed through the region +of his shoulder, missing his heart and lungs, and although he was +all but unconscious, they had every reason to believe that a few +weeks of rest would see him well again.</p> +<p>Beatrice bathed the wound, bandaged it the best she could, then +covered him up warmly and let him go to sleep. And the time came at +last, long past the midnight hour, that she crept once more to +Ben's side.</p> +<p>There was little indeed for them to say. The stress of the night +had taken from them almost all desire to talk. But Ben took her +hand in his feebly, and held it against his lips.</p> +<p>"We're safe now," Beatrice told him, her eye's still bright with +tears. "We've seen it through, and we're safe."</p> +<p>Ben nodded happily. It was true: there was nothing further for +them to fear. With the aid of the rifles of the three fallen, they +could procure meat in plenty for their remaining time at Back +There; besides, the store of jerked caribou and moose was enough to +hold them over. When the rains came again, the three of +them—Neilson and Ben and Beatrice—could glide on down +to the Indian encampments in the canoe. Thence they could reach the +white settlements beyond the mountains.</p> +<p>Her glance into the future went still farther, because she knew +certain news that as yet Ben had not heard. She had heard from +Ray's lips that night that Ben's claim had been legally filed; he +had only to return and take possession. It straightened out the +future, promised success in the battle of life, gave him an +interest to hold him in these northern forests. But she would not +tell him to-night. It could wait for a more quiet hour.</p> +<p>Presently she saw that he was trying to speak to her, +whispering; trying to draw her ear down to his lips. She smiled, +with an infinite tenderness. Dimly though he spoke, she heard him +every word.</p> +<p>"I love you," he told her simply. He watched her face, as +intently as the three Wise Men watched the East, for a sign. And he +saw it, clear and ineffably wonderful, in the stars that came into +her eyes.</p> +<p>"I love you," she answered, with equal simplicity. They lay a +while in silence, blissful in this wonder each had for the other, +wholly content just that their hands and lips should touch.</p> +<p>The same miracle was upon them both; and the girl's thought, +ranging far, seized upon a deep and moving discovery. "All this +belongs to us," she told him, indicating with one movement of her +arm the boundless solitudes about them. "This is our own country, +isn't it, Ben? We can't ever—go away."</p> +<p>It was true: they could never leave the forest for long. They +were its children, bred in the bone. Their strong thews would waste +in a gentler land. It was their heritage. They must not go where +they could not behold the dark line of the forest against the +sky.</p> +<p>The fire burned down. The moon wheeled through the sky. The tall +spruce saw the dawn afar and beckoned.</p> +<p>THE END.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11402 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/11402-h/images/ss001.jpg b/11402-h/images/ss001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7819b4d --- /dev/null +++ b/11402-h/images/ss001.jpg diff --git a/11402-h/images/ss002.jpg b/11402-h/images/ss002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2e876d --- /dev/null +++ b/11402-h/images/ss002.jpg |
