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diff --git a/old/11402.txt b/old/11402.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..be7344c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11402.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9946 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sky Line of Spruce, by Edison Marshall + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sky Line of Spruce + +Author: Edison Marshall + +Release Date: March 2, 2004 [EBook #11402] +Last updated: March 20, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKY LINE OF SPRUCE *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + + + + +[Illustration: He was leaning forward, aware of nothing in the +world but the forthcoming crisis. +FRONTISPIECE.] + + + + + THE SKY LINE + OF SPRUCE + + By EDISON MARSHALL + + + + AUTHOR OF + +"The Voice of the Pack," "The Strength of the Pines," +"The Snowshoe Trail," "Shepherds of the Wild," etc. + + + + 1922 + + + + + +CONTENTS + +PART ONE +THE WAKENING + +PART TWO +THE WOLF-MAN + +PART THREE +THE TAMING + + + + + +PART ONE + +THE WAKENING + + + + +I + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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?" + +"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. + +"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 +_after_ 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." + +"You don't have to tell me that. Anybody who can swing a pick like +that--" + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +"Then why don't you do something about it--besides talk? Mitchell says +you're gettin' so you talk of nothin' else." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The old man ran, in great strides, toward him. "My God, aren't you Ben +Darby?" he demanded. + +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." + + + + +II + +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. + +"What are you doing with Ben Darby in a convict gang?" the old wanderer +demanded. + +"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?" + +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. + +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. + +"Ben, Ben!" he said, evidently struggling with deep emotion. "What are +you doing here?" + +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." + +"You don't know me?" Some of Ben's own bewilderment seemed to pass to +him. "You know Ezra Melville--" + +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." + +"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--?" + +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--" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"You don't remember this man?" Forest asked him quietly, indicating +Ezra Melville. + +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." + +"He's a good friend of your family. He knew your folks. I should say he +was a _very_ good friend, to take the trouble and time he has, in your +behalf." + +Ben nodded. He did not have to be told that fact. The explanation, +however, was beyond him. + +Forest leaned forward. "You remember the Saskatchewan River?" + +Ben straightened, but the dim images in his mind were not clear enough +for him to answer in the affirmative. "I'm afraid not." + +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." + +Ben turned brightly to him, but slowly shook his head. "I can't remember +ever hearing of them before." + +"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----" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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. "_Wolf_ Darby!" + +In response a curious tremor passed over Ben's frame, giving in some +degree the effect of a violent start. "_Wolf_ Darby," he repeated +hesitantly. "Why do you call me that?" + +"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?" + +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 _him_ "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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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--" + +His words faltered then. The wheels of _his_ 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. + +"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." + +McNamara focused an intent gaze first on Ben, then on the alienist. "It +is, then--as you guessed." + +"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." + +"And our friend here--Melville--offers to supply those stimuli." + +"Exactly. And it's up to you to say whether he gets a chance." + +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. + +"Darby, I suppose you followed what the doctor said?" he asked easily. + +"Fairly well, I think." + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +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. + + + + +III + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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.' + +"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. + +"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. + +"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. + +"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." + +"I'm willing to take your word for that, Mr. Melville," Ben interposed +quietly. + +"And I might say, now a good time as any, to let up on the '_Mister_.' +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. + +"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'." + +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. + +"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." + +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." + +"Why should you want to let me in on anything?" Ben asked clearly. + +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." + +"Therefore I suppose you go to the 'pen' to find one," Ben commented, +wholly unconvinced. + +"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." + +Opening the letter, he read laboriously: + + Snowy Gulch, B.C. + + DEAR BROTHER EZRA:-- + + 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. + + 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. + + 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. + + Your brother + + HIRAM MELVILLE. + +There was a long pause after Ezram's voice had died away. Ben's eyes +glowed in the moonlight. + +"And you haven't heard--whether your brother is still alive?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"That's it. Not much, but all what I got. What I want to know is--if +it's a go." + +"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?" + +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'." + +"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." + +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--" + +"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. + +"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." + + + + +IV + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Going home?" the man asked. "I'm going up to see your pop, and I'll see +you there, if you don't mind." + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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--" + +"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." + +"I'm not going to talk about it any more. I've already given you my +answer--twenty times." + +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. + +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." + +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. + +"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." + +"If my father wants men like you--for his pardners, I can't speak for +his judgment." + +"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." + +Because he was secretly attacking her dreams, the dearest part of her +being, she felt the first surge of rising anger. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"You little--devil!" + +The tempest of the forest was upon her, and her eyes blazed as she +hastened around the house. + + + + +V + +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. + +"Where's Beatrice?" Neilson asked at once. "I thought I heard her +voice." + +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." + +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. + +"Nothing--I know of." + +"You've got some white marks on your cheeks--where it ain't red. The kid +can slap, can't she--" + +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. + +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. + +"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--" + +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. + +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--" + +"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--" + +"I suppose--Hiram Melville's claim." + +"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." + +"But he might have got the nuggets somewheres else--" + +"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." + +"I should say it was worth a trip," Ray agreed. "And a fast one, too. +There might be some competition--" + +"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--" + +"True enough--but that Ezra Melville will be showin' up one of these +days. We want to be settin' pretty when he comes." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Up Poor Man creek, through Spruce Pass--" + +"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." + +"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." + +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?" + +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 +_wealth_, 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?" + +"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." + +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?" + +"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." + +Ray's dark eyes shone. "It'd help some," he admitted. "That means--hunt +up an extra horse for her to-morrow." + +"No. I don't intend she should come up now. Not till we're settled." + +"Why not?" + +"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!" + +"Don't go getting sentimental, Neilson." + +"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." + +"How will she know just where to find us?" + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +"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." + + + + +VI + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"Good heavens, I'll capsize you in a minute," Ben said. "How do you dare +risk it----" + +"Push off and stop botherin' me," Ezram answered. "There's a paddle--go +ahead and shoot 'er." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +But it did more. All at once a great clarity seemed to take possession +of his mind. Here, in these dark forests, were the _stimuli_ 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. + +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. + +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." + + + + +VII + + +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. + +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. + +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! + +"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. + +"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?" + +"I don't think I'll ever forget it again." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"You'd think you never had a rod in your hand before," Ezram commented +in mock disgust. "Such hollerin' and whoopin' I never heard." + +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!" + +Ezram nodded. Perhaps, in the moment's fire, Ben had touched at the +truth. Perhaps _life_, in its fullest sense, is something more than +being born, breathing air, consuming food, and moving the lips in +speech. _Life_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Both men knew something of the ways of the frontier and turned in +greeting. "Howdy," Ezram began pleasantly. + +"Howdy," the stranger replied. "How was goin'?" + +"Oh, good enough." + +"Come all the way from Saltsville?" + +"Yes. Goin' to Snowy Gulch." + +"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." + +"You ain't goin' to swim, are you? Where's your boat." + +"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?" + +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." + +"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?" + +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. + +"It's worth something to bring it up here, you dub," Ezram informed his +young partner, when the latter accused him of profiteering. + +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. + +"So you don't know any folks in Snowy Gulch, then?" the stranger had +asked politely. "But you'll get acquainted soon enough--" + +"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--" + +"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?" + +"Oh, nothin' at all. Why?" + +"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." + +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. + +"You don't know where they went, do you?" he asked. + +"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." + +The stranger marvelled that his old listener should have suddenly gone +quite pale. + + + + +VIII + +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. + +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. + +"What have you and your poor victim been talking about, all this time?" +Ben asked. + +"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. + +"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?" + +"Good heavens, Ez? Have you forgotten we've got to get supplies? And +your brother's gun--and his dog?" + +"How do you know he's got a dog?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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." + +"But you'd get a ride, if you waited--" + +"I hate a horse, anyway--" + +"You've surely changed a lot since the war." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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." + +"You're sure you've got the directions straight?" + +"Sure.--And I guess that's all." + +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." + +"I suppose you've got a million-dollar bank note hidden down there now," +Ben remarked. + +"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." + +"I won't forget," Ben promised. + +"See that you don't." They shook hands again, lightly and happily. "So +good-by, son, and--'_take keer of yerself_!'" + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +IX + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Through Spruce Pass and down into the Yuga River." + +"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--" + +"Darby. Ben Darby." + +The merchant opened his eyes. "Not the Ben Darby that took all the +prizes at the meet at Lodge Pole--" + +Ben's rugged face lit with the brilliancy of his smile. "The same +Darby," he admitted. + +"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?" + +"First thing to-morrow." + +"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." + +"I'm glad of it, if he isn't a tenderfoot. That must be a pretty thickly +settled region--where I'm heading." + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +"What's his name?" Ben asked. + +"The party is named Neilson." + +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. + +"All right. Maybe I'll look him up." + +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. + +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. + +"You've got means of identification?" he asked. + +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. + +"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." + +"Fenris, then, is,--something of a problem?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Fenris is loose," he heard the man say. "He'll kill some one----!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Fenris!" he ordered sharply. "Come here!" His voice was commanding and +clear above the animal's snarls. + +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. + +"Down, Fenris," Ben said again. "Down!" + +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. + +Ben stood beside him now, his hand reaching. "Down, down," he cautioned +quietly. Suddenly the wolf crouched, cowering, at his feet. + + + + +X + +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--" + +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." + +"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?" + +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--" + +"But you'd better sit down," Ben advised quietly. "It was enough to +scare any one to death--" + +"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. + +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. + +"You never seen this wolf before?" Morris asked him, calling him from +his revery. + +"Never." + +"Then you must be old Hiram's brother himself, to control him like you +did. Lord, look at him. Crouching at your feet." + +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. + +"There's nothing to be afraid of, now," he told the girl. + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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--" + +"Miss Neilson," the girl prompted him. "Beatrice Neilson. I live here." + +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. + +"Then it's your father--or brother--who's going to the Yuga--" + +"No," the girl answered doubtfully. "My father is already there. I'm +here alone--" + +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. + +"Then it's you," he exulted, "who is going to be my fellow traveler +to-morrow!" + + + + +XI + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"I'm surely glad I'm going to have a companion," he told her. "I won't +miss Ez--" + +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. + +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. + +"You were saying," the girl prompted him. + +"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." + +"The earlier the better. I've got a long way to go." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"The last we'll see of civilization for a long, long time," the girl +reminded him. + +The man thrilled deeply. "And I'm glad of it," he answered. "Nothing +ahead but the long trail!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"There's something stirring in the thicket beside you. Don't you hear +him?" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +XII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Look out for Jeff Neilson and his gang," the letter read. "They seen +some of my dust." + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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--" + +"Jeffery Neilson." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Ben felt a quickening of his own senses, not knowing why. _His_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Ray Brent had discovered a new power within himself. Perhaps even his +chief, Jeffery Neilson, must yield before his new-found strength. + + + + +XIII + +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. + +"Of course you won't try to go on to-night?" she asked Ben. "You'll stay +at the cabin?" + +"There likely won't be room for three," he answered. "But it's a clear +night. I can make a fire and sleep out." + +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. + +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. + +"But why so many horses, Beatrice?" he asked. "You--brought some one +with you?" + +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. + +"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." + +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." + +"I hardly know who it could have been that you met," Neilson began +doubtfully. "He didn't tell you his name--" + +"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--" + +"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." + +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. + +"He hasn't come up this way?" Ben asked casually. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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, _out there_, to-night! Ben felt a +heavy burden of dread! + +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. + +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. + +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?" + +The wolf turned his wild eyes toward his master's face, as if he were +trying to understand. + + + + +XIV + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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?" + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Ezram!" he called, a curious throbbing quality in his voice. "Are you +there, Ez? It's me--Ben." + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +XV + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"They shot you down in cold blood, old boy, didn't they?" he found +himself asking. "You didn't have a chance!" + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + + To WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: + + 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. + + (Signed) EZRA MELVILLE. + +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: + + 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. + + 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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +"Make them pay," he said aloud again, "and never stop till you've done +it." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Fenris, Fenris!" he breathed. "We've got to make them pay. And we must +not stop till we're done." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Here was one, at least, who had come back into his own. The forest +seemed to whisper and thrill with rapture. + + + + + +PART TWO + +THE WOLF-MAN + + + + +XVI + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _he_ 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. + +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 _fear_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"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?" + +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. + +"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." + +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." + +"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--" + +"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--" + +"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." + +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?" + +"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." + +"I'd handle it, and quick too," Ray protested. + +"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." + +"Then the first thing up," Chan Heminway suggested, "is to bury the +stiff." + +"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." + +"And what's that?" + +"Start Chan off to-morrow to the office in Bradleyburg and record this +claim in our names. We've waited too long already." + +"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." + + + + +XVII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Nevertheless, he must not put her on guard. He must simulate friendship. +He lifted his hat in answer to her gay signal. + +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. + +The man glanced once at Fenris, spoke in command, then turned to the +girl. "All rested from the ride, I see," he began easily. + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Why not? I'm fair enough with a canoe, of course--but it looks safe as +a lake." + +"But it isn't." She paused. "Listen with those keen ears of yours, Mr. +Darby. Don't you hear anything?" + +Ben did not need particularly keen ears to hear: the far-off sound of +surging waters reached him with entire clearness. He nodded. + +"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." + +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? + +His eyes glowed, and he fought off with difficulty a great preoccupation +that seemed to be settling over him. + +"Tell me about it," he said at last, casually. "I was thinking of making +a boat and going down on a prospecting trip." + +"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." + +"And all drowned?" Ben asked. + +"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." + +"And after you've once got into the rapids, there's no getting out--or +landing?" + +"Of course not. I suppose there are places where you might get on the +bank, but the gorge above is impassable." + +"You couldn't follow the river down--with horses?" + +"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." + +"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?" + +"'Back There.' That's all I've ever heard it called--'Back There.'" + +"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." + +"Of course. Many of our rivers are safer in high water. But you +seriously don't intend to take such a trip--" + +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. + +"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--" + +"It _is_ 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." + +"Not even with a canoe? Of course a raft would be broken to pieces." + +"Not a canoe, either, in two or three days, if the river falls like it +usually does. But tell me--you aren't serious--" + +"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 _Back There_." + +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. + +"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--" + +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. + +"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. + +"Good-by," the girl was saying. "I'll see you soon--" + +He turned toward her, a smile at his lips. His voice held steady when he +spoke. + +"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--" + +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. + +"Then I'll meet you here--at eight." + + + +XVIII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Go back and get your heavy coat," he commanded. "I've already been out +on the water, and it'll freeze you stiff." + +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. + +"It's going to be a bright day," the girl said hesitatingly. "I don't +think I'll need the fur coat--" + +"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--" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"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--" + +The girl's eyes fell with some apprehension on the shaggy wolf. "I +haven't established very friendly relations with Fenris--" + +"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--" + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"You've not forgotten anything?" he asked casually. + +"Nothing I can think of." + +"Got plenty of extra shells?" + +"Part of a box. It's a small caliber automatic, you see, and a box holds +fifty." + +"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." + +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. + +"You're not taking the other paddle?" the girl asked curiously. + +"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!" + +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. + +"Just a little note for your father," he explained, "to tell him where +we are, in case he worries about you." + +"That's very considerate of you," the girl answered in a thoughtful +voice. + +She wondered at the curious glowings, lurid as red coals, that came and +went in his eyes. + + + +XIX + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +"Come back!" Neilson called again. "I order you--" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. _Seconds_ 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. + +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: + + TO NEILSON AND HIS GANG:-- + + When you get this, Beatrice will be on her way to Back There--either + there or on her way to hell. + + 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. + + BEN DARBY. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + +XX + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"I'm not afraid--with you. And how fast you paddle!" + +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. + +She talked gayly to him, scarcely aware that they were heading across +and down the stream. + +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. + +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. + +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--" + +"And get in range of him so he _can_ kill me?" Ben replied savagely. +"Can't you see he's shooting at me?" + +"Then throw up your hands--it's all some dreadful mistake. Can't you +hear me--turn and go back." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +A short pause followed the girl's words. The man smiled coldly into her +eyes. + +"He'll kill me, will he?" he repeated. + +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. + +"What do you mean?" she asked breathlessly. "What--are you going to do?" + +"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." + +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. + +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 _death_--was _that_ 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. + +"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." + +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." + +The girl knew he spoke the truth. Only death dwelt in those cold and +rushing waters. "What do you mean to do?" she asked. + +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. + +"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--" + +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." + +"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 _that_ payment from you. I'd die before I'd +touch the flesh of his flesh to mine! Do you understand that?" + +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. + +"Then why--" + +"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--" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + + + + +XXI + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The face before him was drawn and white; but there was no time for +questions. Hard hands seized his arm. + +"Ray, do you know of a canoe anywhere--up or down this river?" + +"There's one at the landing. None other I know of." + +"Think, man! You don't know where we can get one?" + +"No. Old Hiram's canoe was the only one. What's the matter?" + +"Do you think there's one chance in a million of getting down through +those rapids on a raft?" + +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--" + +"I know it. Do you suppose there's a canoe in town?" + +"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--" + +"Beatrice has gone down, that's all." + +"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--?" + +Neilson straightened, his eyes searching Ray's. "She's got food, I +suppose. And she's got an expert paddler to take her there." + +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?" + +"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!" + +Ray stared blankly. "Then he found out--about the murder?" he gasped. + +"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--" + +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--" + +"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!" + +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. + +"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." + +"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!" + +"He says he's got the old man's letter, leaving the claim to him. That +messes up things even worse." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"He can't do much if the claim's recorded in our names!" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"What in the devil you coming back for?" Ray shouted, when Chan's +identity became certain. + +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." + +"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?" + +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." + +Ray was stricken with terror, and his words faltered. "You mean you +could tend to it in Snowy Gulch--" + +"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." + +"For God's sake, why?" + +"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." + +"It's all over town--about the claim?" + +"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." + +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. + +"You see what that means, don't you?" he asked Neilson. + +"It means we've lost!" + +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." + +"Of course we've got to rescue Beatrice--" + +"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." + +"You mean we've got to find him--and destroy that letter--" + +"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?" + +Neilson breathed heavily. "It's all plain enough." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"The thing to do is to turn back with Chan, at once," he said. + +"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." + +So they turned back toward the Yuga, on their quest of hate. + + + + +XXII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"I wish you wouldn't cry," he said, rather quietly. + +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. + +"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--" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He _knew_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +His heart leaped; why he did not know. "What is, it?" he asked. + +"Ben--I called you that yesterday and there's no use going back to last +names now--I've made an important decision." + +"I hope it's a happy one," he ventured. + +"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." + +Ben nodded. For all his long training he had not entirely mastered this +lesson himself, but he knew she spoke true. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"And you mean--you're going to try to make the best of _this_?" His +voice throbbed ever so slightly, because he could not hold it even. + +"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." + +He nodded. He understood _that_ very well. + +"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." + +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?" + +"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." + +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! + +"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." + +As she talked she was slowly unwrapping the little parcel she had +brought. Presently she held it out to him. + +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. + +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." + + + + +XXIII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +With entire good humor she began to gather such pieces of dead wood as +she could find for their fire. + +"Your prisoner might as well make herself useful," she said. + +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--" + +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." + +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. + +"Good Lord, there's supper!" Ben whispered. "Beatrice, get your +pistol--" + +Her eyes smiled as she looked him in the face. "You remember--my pistol +isn't loaded!" + +"Excuse me. I forgot. Give it to me." + +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. + +"Dinner all safe," he remarked rather gayly, as the grouse came tumbling +through the branches. + + + + +XXIV + +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. + +"Here's where you sleep to-night, Beatrice," he informed her. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. _If she made her escape at all it must be soon._ + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The plan meant deliverance for her; but surely it meant _death_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The girl sobbed once, then stole back to her blankets. + + + + +XXV + +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. + +"It's time to get up and go on," he said. "We have only a few hours more +of travel." + +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. + +The girl opened her eyes. "I'd rather hoped--I had dreamed it all," she +told him miserably. + +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?" + +"No, I want to do that part myself. It makes the time pass faster to +have something to do." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Is this our permanent camp?" the girl asked at last. + +"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." + +"You want me to come?" + +"I'd rather, if you don't mind." + +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. + +"I'll come." Beatrice smiled grimly. "We can have that picnic we +planned, after all." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"It's home," the man said simply. + + + + +XXVI + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +She looked away, embarrassed, and he spoke to put her at ease. "You are +perfectly comfortable, Beatrice?" he asked gently. + +"As good as I could expect--considering everything. I'm awfully relieved +that we're off the water." + +"Of course." He paused, looking away into the tremulous shadows. "Is +that all? Don't you feel something else, too--a kind of satisfaction?" + +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." + +"That's it. Of course." + +"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." + +"It's an interesting thought--that perhaps the love of home sprang from +that hour." + +"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." + +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." + +"Yes. Perhaps then they began to be tamed." + +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. + +"I'm sleepy," she said. "I'm going in." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +Some huge wilderness creature was venturing toward them, at the edge of +the little glade. + + + + +XXVII + +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. + +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. + +"What is it?" Beatrice whispered. The man's eyes strained into the +gloom. + +"I don't know. It may be just a moose, or maybe a caribou. But it may +be--" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +XXVIII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 +_life_--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. + +Ben knew, too, that he was fighting for his home; and this also lent him +strength. _Home_! 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + + + +PART THREE + +THE TAMING + + + + +XXIX + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Wake up, Beatrice," he commanded, with pretended gruffness. "It's after +ten, and you've got to cook my breakfast." + +She stirred, pretending difficulty in opening her eyes. + +"Get right up," he commanded again. "D'ye think I'm going to wait all +morning?" + +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. + +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. + +"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--" + +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." + +"It's a fine morning. And what's your favorite meat--moose or caribou?" + +"Caribou--although I like both." + +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. + +"That means we do some climbing, instead of watching in the beaver +meadows. I'm ready--any time." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +It was a young caribou--a yearling buck--and his flesh would be tender +as a spring fowl. + +"It's just what we want, but there's not much chance of getting him at +that range," he said. + +"Try, anyway. You've got a long-range rifle. If you can hold true, he's +yours." + +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. + +He held his breath and pressed the trigger back. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +XXX + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"I hope I haven't waked you up?" he said. + +The girl smiled secretly. "I wanted to wake up, anyway--to-day." + +"I wish you'd get up and come and look at something ugly I've got just +outside the door." + +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. + +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. + +"I guess you've forgotten what day it is," he said. + +"Of course. I hardly know the month." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +He walked toward her, and her eyes could not leave his. He bent soberly, +and brushed her lips with his own. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + + + + +XXXI + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Ben dropped his hand to the wolf's shoulders. "The little folks are +calling on us to-night," he said quietly. + +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. + +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. + +"What do you see, old-timer?" Ben asked. "I wish I could see too." + +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. + +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. + +"They _are_ out to-night," he murmured. "No wonder you're excited, +Fenris. What is it--some celebration in the forest?" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"What is it, boy?" Ben asked. "What do you want me to do?" + +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. + +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." + +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. + +"Go ahead if you like," Ben told him. "God knows it's your destiny." + +The wolf seemed to understand. With a glad bark he sped away and almost +instantly vanished into the gloom. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +XXXII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _they_ 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. + +Eagerly her fingers plucked the black berries. + + + + +XXXIII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"You're flushed from hurrying down that hill," he told her gayly. +"Beatrice, you're getting prettier every day." + +"It's the simple life that's doing it, Ben! No late hours, no +indigestible food--" + +"Speaking of food--I'm famished. I hope you've got something nice for +lunch--and I know you have." + +She _had_ 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?" + +He made a great feint of being overwhelmed by the news. "Then let's +hurry. Take my arm and we'll fly." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"But our pistol shells are getting low," Ben objected. "I've hardly got +enough shells in the gun to get 'em all--" + +"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." + +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. + +"Good work," Beatrice exulted. "Now for the chicks." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Here's one more," Beatrice urged him. "I'll need every one for the +pie." + +But the gun was empty. The firing pin snapped harmlessly against the +breach. They gathered the grouse and sped on down to the cavern. + +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." + +Ben peered with sudden interest into her face. "What's troubling you, +Bee?" he asked gently. "You're pale as a ghost." + +"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--" + +She saw by his eyes that he _was_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +No kindly root tripped her feet as she entered, no merciful unsteadiness +caused her to drop this cup of death and spill its contents. + +"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--" + +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." + +"I'll drink it, if it's bitter as gall," he assured her, "after your +kindness to fix it." + +His hand reached and seized the handle of the cup. Even now--_now_--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. + +Then she seemed to writhe as in a convulsion. Her voice rose in a +piercing scream. "Ben--_Ben_--_don't drink it_!" she cried. "God have +mercy on my soul!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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." + +"But you don't understand--you don't know--what I tried to do--" + +"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." + +His rugged face lighted as he smiled, kindly and tolerantly, and then he +turned to go. But her solemn voice arrested him. + +"Wait, Ben. I want you to know--now--so you won't trust me again--or +give me another chance. The cup--was poisoned." + +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." + +"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 _did_ kill +you." + +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. + +For a breath he held it close to his cheek, his eyes lightless and far +away, and she gazed at him in amazement. + +"You'd kiss my hand--after what I did--?" + +"After what you _didn't_ 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." + +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. + +"_You knocked it out of my hands_!" 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?" + +He gazed at her with growing ardor. She shook her head. She simply did +not know the reason. + +"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." + +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." + +Gently he picked her up, seemingly with no physical effort and laid her +in her hammock. "Then--you'll forgive me?" she asked brokenly. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + +XXXIV + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"Is that you, Ben?" she called. + +She strained into the silence for his reply. The cold drops splashed +into her face. + +"Ben?" she called again. "Is that you?" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Ben!" she called again. Then with increasing volume. "Ben!" + +But no echo returned. The darkness swallowed the sound at once. + +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. + +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. + +The rain splashed in vain at her torch. The pitch burned with a fierce +flame. But her eyes sought in vain for the axe. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Dead! The thought sped an icy current throughout the hydraulic system of +her veins. + +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. + +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. + +One of these knots she put in the iron pan they used for frying, then +lighted it. Then she pushed into the timber. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Instantly she was beside the form of her comrade and enemy, struggling +with the cruel limbs that pinned him to the earth. + + + + +XXXV + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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!" + +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. + +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. + +"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--" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"The tree got me, didn't it?" he asked. + +"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--" + +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." + +Her eyes widened in horror. "You don't mean--" + +"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." + +She nodded. In that eerie moment of suspense she knew she must hear what +he had to tell her. + +"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?" + +"The rifle was broken--when the tree fell." + +"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." + +"Do you think I would go?" she cried. + +"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." + +"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--" + +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--" + +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. + +"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--" + +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. + +The girl began to strip the wet clothes from his injured body. + + + + +XXXVI + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Neilson turned. He seemed to sense impending developments. "What now?" +he asked. + +"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." + +"You're going back, eh--scared out!" Neilson commented coldly. + +"I'm going back--and don't say too much about being scared out, either." + +"And you too, Chan? You're against me, too?" + +Chan cursed. "I'd gone a week ago if it'd been me. We knew the way +home, at least." + +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. + +"Then turn the horses around, you cowards," he answered. "I can't go on +alone." + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +XXXVII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The rifle was broken. The last of the pistol shots was fired the day she +had prepared the poisoned cup for Ben. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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, _it was true_! A gleam of hope in the darkness of despair. + +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. + + + + +XXXVIII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _life_ to +herself and to Ben,--deliverance and safety when all seemed lost. + +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. + +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. + +"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--" + +"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." + +"They might be beyond the marsh," Neilson suggested. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"You can't keep your hands off that gun, Ray," he said. "You sure are +gettin' anxious." + +"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." + +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. + +The words came clear and distinct to the listening girl. She tried to +take them literally--that Ray would not shoot Ben! _"It's too good for +him--except maybe the stock!"_ Did he mean _that_ 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. + +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!" + +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. + +"You could hardly expect me to let him off easy--seeing what he did to +my daughter--" + +"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--" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Now it was almost in reach: now her hands were at its loops. She started +to lift it in her arms. + +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. + +He leaped like a panther. "Who's there?" he cried. + +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. + +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. + +Desperate and intent, but in realization of impending triumph, Ray's +strong arms went about her. + + + + +XXXIX + +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. + +Neilson and Chan were on their feet now, and they regarded her in the +utter silence of amazement. Breathing fast, Ray came behind her. + +"Build up the fire, Chan," he said in a strange, grim voice. "We want to +see what we've caught." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"I was trying to take some of your food--to Ben," Beatrice replied +softly. "He's in need of it." + +"You see, they're on intimate terms," Ray suggested viciously. "Ben was +in need of food--so she came here to steal it." + +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." + +"Perhaps _you_ 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." + +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?" + +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--" + +"I can take it, then, that you're out of food?" Ray asked. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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--" + +Slowly her father shook his head. "But I can't save him now. He brought +this on himself." + +"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--" + +"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." + +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. + +"Yes, tell us where he is," her father urged. "That's the first thing. +We'll find him, anyway, in the morning." + +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. + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +"It never occurred to you, did it, that there's ways of _making_ 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." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +Beatrice's last defense had fallen, seriously wounded; and Ray's arm +seized her as, screaming, she tried to flee. + + + + +XL + +The shot that wounded Jeffery Neilson carried far through the forest +aisles, reechoing 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +XLI + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Put a rope around her wrists, Chan," he said. "We don't want to take +chances on her getting away." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +"So you and Ben are bunkies now, are you?" he asked slowly, without +emphasis. + +But the girl made no reply, only gazing at him with starting eyes. + +"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." + +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. + +"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--" + +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!" + +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. + +"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. + + + + +XLII + +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. + +"Here I am," he said quietly. "The letter's in my pocket. Do what you +want with me--but let Beatrice go." + +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 _triumph_--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. + +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. + +"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." + +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." + +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?" + +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?" + +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." + +"They were about to attack you, were they?" His voice dropped a tone; +otherwise it seemed the same. + +"Yes--just as you came." + +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!" + +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!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Let her go," Ray said to Charley. "She can't help him any." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"What is it?" he asked whispering. + +"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." + +"Then hurry," he urged. "They may be back any instant. What is it?" + +"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." + +He smiled, gently and strongly. "Do you think I'd fail you now?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. +_It was no less than victory in the last instant of despair!_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + +XLII + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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!" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"We're safe now," Beatrice told him, her eye's still bright with tears. +"We've seen it through, and we're safe." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +"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. + +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." + +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. + +The fire burned down. The moon wheeled through the sky. The tall spruce +saw the dawn afar and beckoned. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Sky Line of Spruce, by Edison Marshall + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKY LINE OF SPRUCE *** + +***** This file should be named 11402.txt or 11402.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/4/0/11402/ + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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