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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/4748-h.zip b/4748-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1db84bd --- /dev/null +++ b/4748-h.zip diff --git a/4748-h/4748-h.htm b/4748-h/4748-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..26a19e1 --- /dev/null +++ b/4748-h/4748-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8750 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Baree, Son of Kazan, by James Oliver Curwood +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {font-size: small ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.transnote {font-size: small ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.intro {font-size: medium ; + text-indent: -5% ; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Baree, Son of Kazan, by James Oliver Curwood + +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: Baree, Son of Kazan + +Author: James Oliver Curwood + +Posting Date: September 6, 2009 [EBook #4748] +Release Date: December, 2003 +First Posted: March 12, 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAREE, SON OF KAZAN *** + + + + +Produced by Diane Bean. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +Baree, Son of Kazan. +</H1> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +James Oliver Curwood. +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap01">1</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap02">2</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap03">3</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap04">4</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap05">5</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap06">6</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap07">7</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap08">8</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap09">9</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="10%"> +<A HREF="#chap10">10</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap11">11</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap12">12</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap13">13</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap14">14</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap15">15</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap16">16</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap17">17</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap18">18</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap19">19</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap20">20</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap21">21</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap22">22</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap23">23</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap24">24</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap25">25</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap26">26</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap27">27</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap28">28</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap29">29</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap30">30</A> +</TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap31">31</A> +</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Preface +</H3> + +<P> +Since the publication of my two animal books, "Kazan, the Wolf Dog" and +"The Grizzly King," I have received so many hundreds of letters from +friends of wild animal life, all of which were more or less of an +inquiring nature, that I have been encouraged to incorporate in this +preface of the third of my series—"Baree, Son of Kazan"—something +more of my desire and hope in writing of wild life, and something of +the foundation of fact whereupon this and its companion books have been +written. +</P> + +<P> +I have always disliked the preaching of sermons in the pages of +romance. It is like placing a halter about an unsuspecting reader's +neck and dragging him into paths for which he may have no liking. But +if fact and truth produce in the reader's mind a message for himself, +then a work has been done. That is what I hope for in my nature books. +The American people are not and never have been lovers of wild life. As +a nation we have gone after Nature with a gun. +</P> + +<P> +And what right, you may ask, has a confessed slaughterer of wild life +such as I have been to complain? None at all, I assure you. I have +twenty-seven guns—and I have used them all. I stand condemned as +having done more than my share toward extermination. But that does not +lessen the fact that I have learned; and in learning I have come to +believe that if boys and girls and men and women could be brought into +the homes and lives of wild birds and animals as their homes are made +and their lives are lived we would all understand at last that wherever +a heart beats it is very much like our own in the final analysis of +things. To see a bird singing on a twig means but little; but to live a +season with that bird, to be with it in courting days, in matehood and +motherhood, to understand its griefs as well as its gladness means a +great deal. And in my books it is my desire to tell of the lives of the +wild things which I know as they are actually lived. It is not my +desire to humanize them. If we are to love wild animals so much that we +do not want to kill them we MUST KNOW THEM AS THEY ACTUALLY LIVE. And +in their lives, in the facts of their lives, there is so much of real +and honest romance and tragedy, so much that makes them akin to +ourselves that the animal biographer need not step aside from the paths +of actuality to hold one's interest. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps rather tediously I have come to the few words I want to say +about Baree, the hero of this book. Baree, after all, is only another +Kazan. For it was Kazan I found in the way I have described—a bad dog, +a killer about to be shot to death by his master when chance, and my +own faith in him, gave him to me. +</P> + +<P> +We traveled together for many thousands of miles through the +northland—on trails to the Barren Lands, to Hudson's Bay and to the +Arctic. Kazan—the bad dog, the half-wolf, the killer—was the best +four-legged friend I ever had. He died near Fort MacPherson, on the +Peel River, and is buried there. And Kazan was the father of Baree; +Gray Wolf, the full-blooded wolf, was his mother. Nepeese, the Willow, +still lives near God's Lake; and it was in the country of Nepeese and +her father that for three lazy months I watched the doings at Beaver +Town, and went on fishing trips with Wakayoo, the bear. Sometimes I +have wondered if old Beaver Tooth himself did not in some way +understand that I had made his colony safe for his people. It was +Pierrot's trapping ground; and to Pierrot—father of Nepeese—I gave my +best rifle on his word that he would not harm my beaver friends for two +years. And the people of Pierrot's breed keep their word. Wakayoo, +Baree's big bear friend, is dead. He was killed as I have described, in +that "pocket" among the ridges, while I was on a jaunt to Beaver Town. +We were becoming good friends and I missed him a great deal. The story +of Pierrot and of his princess wife, Wyola, is true; they are buried +side by side under the tall spruce that stood near their cabin. +Pierrot's murderer, instead of dying as I have told it, was killed in +his attempt to escape the Royal Mounted farther west. When I last saw +Baree he was at Lac Seul House, where I was the guest of Mr. William +Patterson, the factor; and the last word I heard from him was through +my good friend Frank Aldous, factor at White Dog Post, who wrote me +only a few weeks ago that he had recently seen Nepeese and Baree and +the husband of Nepeese, and that the happiness he found in their far +wilderness home made him regret that he was a bachelor. I feel sorry +for Aldous. He is a splendid young Englishman, unattached, and some day +I am going to try and marry him off. I have in mind someone at the +present moment—a fox-trapper's daughter up near the Barren, very +pretty, and educated at a missioner's school; and as Aldous is going +with me on my next trip I may have something to say about them in the +book that is to follow "Baree, Son of Kazan." +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +James Oliver Curwood +<BR> +Owosso, Michigan +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 1 +</H3> + +<P> +To Baree, for many days after he was born, the world was a vast gloomy +cavern. +</P> + +<P> +During these first days of his life his home was in the heart of a +great windfall where Gray Wolf, his blind mother, had found a safe nest +for his babyhood, and to which Kazan, her mate, came only now and then, +his eyes gleaming like strange balls of greenish fire in the darkness. +It was Kazan's eyes that gave to Baree his first impression of +something existing away from his mother's side, and they brought to him +also his discovery of vision. He could feel, he could smell, he could +hear—but in that black pit under the fallen timber he had never seen +until the eyes came. At first they frightened him; then they puzzled +him, and his fear changed to an immense curiosity. He would be looking +straight at them, when all at once they would disappear. This was when +Kazan turned his head. And then they would flash back at him again out +of the darkness with such startling suddenness that Baree would +involuntarily shrink closer to his mother, who always trembled and +shivered in a strange sort of way when Kazan came in. +</P> + +<P> +Baree, of course, would never know their story. He would never know +that Gray Wolf, his mother, was a full-blooded wolf, and that Kazan, +his father, was a dog. In him nature was already beginning its +wonderful work, but it would never go beyond certain limitations. It +would tell him, in time, that his beautiful wolf mother was blind, but +he would never know of that terrible battle between Gray Wolf and the +lynx in which his mother's sight had been destroyed. Nature could tell +him nothing of Kazan's merciless vengeance, of the wonderful years of +their matehood, of their loyalty, their strange adventures in the great +Canadian wilderness—it could make him only a son of Kazan. +</P> + +<P> +But at first, and for many days, it was all mother. Even after his eyes +had opened wide and he had found his legs so that he could stumble +about a little in the darkness, nothing existed for Baree but his +mother. When he was old enough to be playing with sticks and moss out +in the sunlight, he still did not know what she looked like. But to him +she was big and soft and warm, and she licked his face with her tongue, +and talked to him in a gentle, whimpering way that at last made him +find his own voice in a faint, squeaky yap. +</P> + +<P> +And then came that wonderful day when the greenish balls of fire that +were Kazan's eyes came nearer and nearer, a little at a time, and very +cautiously. Heretofore Gray Wolf had warned him back. To be alone was +the first law of her wild breed during mothering time. A low snarl from +her throat, and Kazan had always stopped. But on this day the snarl did +not come. In Gray Wolf's throat it died away in a low, whimpering +sound. A note of loneliness, of gladness, of a great yearning. "It is +all right now," she was saying to Kazan; and Kazan—pausing for a +moment to make sure—replied with an answering note deep in his throat. +</P> + +<P> +Still slowly, as if not quite sure of what he would find, Kazan came to +them, and Baree snuggled closer to his mother. He heard Kazan as he +dropped down heavily on his belly close to Gray Wolf. He was +unafraid—and mightily curious. And Kazan, too, was curious. He +sniffed. In the gloom his ears were alert. After a little Baree began +to move. An inch at a time he dragged himself away from Gray Wolf's +side. Every muscle in her lithe body tensed. Again her wolf blood was +warning her. There was danger for Baree. Her lips drew back, baring her +fangs. Her throat trembled, but the note in it never came. Out of the +darkness two yards away came a soft, puppyish whine, and the caressing +sound of Kazan's tongue. +</P> + +<P> +Baree had felt the thrill of his first great adventure. He had +discovered his father. +</P> + +<P> +This all happened in the third week of Baree's life. He was just +eighteen days old when Gray Wolf allowed Kazan to make the acquaintance +of his son. If it had not been for Gray Wolf's blindness and the memory +of that day on the Sun Rock when the lynx had destroyed her eyes, she +would have given birth to Baree in the open, and his legs would have +been quite strong. He would have known the sun and the moon and the +stars; he would have realized what the thunder meant, and would have +seen the lightning flashing in the sky. But as it was, there had been +nothing for him to do in that black cavern under the windfall but +stumble about a little in the darkness, and lick with his tiny red +tongue the raw bones that were strewn about them. Many times he had +been left alone. He had heard his mother come and go, and nearly always +it had been in response to a yelp from Kazan that came to them like a +distant echo. He had never felt a very strong desire to follow until +this day when Kazan's big, cool tongue caressed his face. In those +wonderful seconds nature was at work. His instinct was not quite born +until then. And when Kazan went away, leaving them alone in darkness, +Baree whimpered for him to come back, just as he had cried for his +mother when now and then she had left him in response to her mate's +call. +</P> + +<P> +The sun was straight above the forest when, an hour or two after +Kazan's visit, Gray Wolf slipped away. Between Baree's nest and the top +of the windfall were forty feet of jammed and broken timber through +which not a ray of light could break. This blackness did not frighten +him, for he had yet to learn the meaning of light. Day, and not night, +was to fill him with his first great terror. So quite fearlessly, with +a yelp for his mother to wait for him, he began to follow. If Gray Wolf +heard him, she paid no attention to his call, and the sound of the +scraping of her claws on the dead timber died swiftly away. +</P> + +<P> +This time Baree did not stop at the eight-inch log which had always +shut in his world in that particular direction. He clambered to the top +of it and rolled over on the other side. Beyond this was vast +adventure, and he plunged into it courageously. +</P> + +<P> +It took him a long time to make the first twenty yards. Then he came to +a log worn smooth by the feet of Gray Wolf and Kazan, and stopping +every few feet to send out a whimpering call for his mother, he made +his way farther and farther along it. As he went, there grew slowly a +curious change in this world of his. He had known nothing but +blackness. And now this blackness seemed breaking itself up into +strange shapes and shadows. Once he caught the flash of a fiery streak +above him—a gleam of sunshine—and it startled him so that he +flattened himself down upon the log and did not move for half a minute. +Then he went on. An ermine squeaked under him. He heard the swift +rustling of a squirrel's feet, and a curious whut-whut-whut that was +not at all like any sound his mother had ever made. He was off the +trail. +</P> + +<P> +The log was no longer smooth, and it was leading him upward higher and +higher into the tangle of the windfall, and was growing narrower every +foot he progressed. He whined. His soft little nose sought vainly for +the warm scent of his mother. The end came suddenly when he lost his +balance and fell. He let out a piercing cry of terror as he felt +himself slipping, and then plunged downward. He must have been high up +in the windfall, for to Baree it seemed a tremendous fall. His soft +little body thumped from log to log as he shot this way and that, and +when at last he stopped, there was scarcely a breath left in him. But +he stood up quickly on his four trembling legs—and blinked. +</P> + +<P> +A new terror held Baree rooted there. In an instant the whole world had +changed. It was a flood of sunlight. Everywhere he looked he could see +strange things. But it was the sun that frightened him most. It was his +first impression of fire, and it made his eyes smart. He would have +slunk back into the friendly gloom of the windfall, but at this moment +Gray Wolf came around the end of a great log, followed by Kazan. She +muzzled Baree joyously, and Kazan in a most doglike fashion wagged his +tail. This mark of the dog was to be a part of Baree. Half wolf, he +would always wag his tail. He tried to wag it now. Perhaps Kazan saw +the effort, for he emitted a muffled yelp of approbation as he sat back +on his haunches. +</P> + +<P> +Or he might have been saying to Gray Wolf: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, we've got the little rascal out of that windfall at last, +haven't we?" +</P> + +<P> +For Baree it had been a great day. He had discovered his father—and +the world. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 2 +</H3> + +<P> +And it was a wonderful world—a world of vast silence, empty of +everything but the creatures of the wild. The nearest Hudson's Bay post +was a hundred miles away, and the first town of civilization was a +straight three hundred to the south. Two years before, Tusoo, the Cree +trapper, had called this his domain. It had come down to him, as was +the law of the forests, through generations of forefathers. But Tusoo +had been the last of his worn-out family; he had died of smallpox, and +his wife and his children had died with him. Since then no human foot +had taken up his trails. The lynx had multiplied. The moose and caribou +had gone unhunted by man. The beaver had built their +homes—undisturbed. The tracks of the black bear were as thick as the +tracks of the deer farther south. And where once the deadfalls and +poison baits of Tusoo had kept the wolves thinned down, there was no +longer a menace for these mohekuns of the wilderness. +</P> + +<P> +Following the sun of this first wonderful day came the moon and the +stars of Baree's first real night. It was a splendid night, and with it +a full red moon sailed up over the forests, flooding the earth with a +new kind of light, softer and more beautiful to Baree. The wolf was +strong in him, and he was restless. He had slept that day in the warmth +of the sun, but he could not sleep in this glow of the moon. He nosed +uneasily about Gray Wolf, who lay flat on her belly, her beautiful head +alert, listening yearningly to the night sounds, and for the tonguing +of Kazan, who had slunk away like a shadow to hunt. +</P> + +<P> +Half a dozen times, as Baree wandered about near the windfall, he heard +a soft whir over his head, and once or twice he saw gray shadows +floating swiftly through the air. They were the big northern owls +swooping down to investigate him, and if he had been a rabbit instead +of a wolf dog whelp, his first night under the moon and stars would +have been his last; for unlike Wapoos, the rabbit, he was not cautious. +Gray Wolf did not watch him closely. Instinct told her that in these +forests there was no great danger for Baree except at the hands of man. +In his veins ran the blood of the wolf. He was a hunter of all other +wild creatures, but no other creature, either winged or fanged, hunted +him. +</P> + +<P> +In a way Baree sensed this. He was not afraid of the owls. He was not +afraid of the strange bloodcurdling cries they made in the black spruce +tops. But once fear entered into him, and he scurried back to his +mother. It was when one of the winged hunters of the air swooped down +on a snowshoe rabbit, and the squealing agony of the doomed creature +set his heart thumping like a little hammer. He felt in those cries the +nearness of that one ever-present tragedy of the wild—death. He felt +it again that night when, snuggled close to Gray Wolf, he listened to +the fierce outcry of a wolf pack that was close on the heels of a young +caribou bull. And the meaning of it all, and the wild thrill of it all, +came home to him early in the gray dawn when Kazan returned, holding +between his jaws a huge rabbit that was still kicking and squirming +with life. +</P> + +<P> +This rabbit was the climax in the first chapter of Baree's education. +It was as if Gray Wolf and Kazan had planned it all out, so that he +might receive his first instruction in the art of killing. When Kazan +had dropped it, Baree approached the big hare cautiously. The back of +Wapoos, the rabbit, was broken. His round eyes were glazed, and he had +ceased to feel pain. But to Baree, as he dug his tiny teeth into the +heavy fur under Wapoos's throat, the hare was very much alive. The +teeth did not go through into the flesh. With puppyish fierceness Baree +hung on. He thought that he was killing. He could feel the dying +convulsions of Wapoos. He could hear the last gasping breaths leaving +the warm body, and he snarled and tugged until finally he fell back +with a mouthful of fur. When he returned to the attack, Wapoos was +quite dead, and Baree continued to bite and snarl until Gray Wolf came +with her sharp fangs and tore the rabbit to pieces. After that followed +the feast. +</P> + +<P> +So Baree came to understand that to eat meant to kill, and as other +days and nights passed, there grew in him swiftly the hunger for flesh. +In this he was the true wolf. From Kazan he had taken other and +stronger inheritances of the dog. He was magnificently black, which in +later days gave him the name of Kusketa Mohekun—the black wolf. On his +breast was a white star. His right ear was tipped with white. His tail, +at six weeks, was bushy and hung low. It was a wolf's tail. His ears +were Gray Wolf's ears—sharp, short, pointed, always alert. His +foreshoulders gave promise of being splendidly like Kazan's, and when +he stood up he was like the trace dog, except that he always stood +sidewise to the point or object he was watching. This, again, was the +wolf, for a dog faces the direction in which he is looking intently. +</P> + +<P> +One brilliant night, when Baree was two months old, and when the sky +was filled with stars and a June moon so bright that it seemed scarcely +higher than the tall spruce tops, Baree settled back on his haunches +and howled. It was a first effort. But there was no mistake in the note +of it. It was the wolf howl. But a moment later when Baree slunk up to +Kazan, as if deeply ashamed of his effort, he was wagging his tail in +an unmistakably apologetic manner. And this again was the dog. If +Tusoo, the dead Indian trapper, could have seen him then, he would have +judged him by that wagging of his tail. It revealed the fact that deep +in his heart—and in his soul, if we can concede that he had one—Baree +was a dog. +</P> + +<P> +In another way Tusoo would have found judgment of him. At two months +the wolf whelp has forgotten how to play. He is a slinking part of the +wilderness, already at work preying on creatures smaller and more +helpless than himself. Baree still played. In his excursions away from +the windfall he had never gone farther than the creek, a hundred yards +from where his mother lay. He had helped to tear many dead and dying +rabbits into pieces. He believed, if he thought upon the matter at all, +that he was exceedingly fierce and courageous. But it was his ninth +week before he felt his spurs and fought his terrible battle with the +young owl in the edge of the thick forest. +</P> + +<P> +The fact that Oohoomisew, the big snow owl, had made her nest in a +broken stub not far from the windfall was destined to change the whole +course of Baree's life, just as the blinding of Gray Wolf had changed +hers, and a man's club had changed Kazan's. The creek ran close past +the stub, which had been shriven by lightning; and this stub stood in a +still, dark place in the forest, surrounded by tall, black spruce and +enveloped in gloom even in broad day. Many times Baree had gone to the +edge of this mysterious part of the forest and had peered in curiously, +and with a growing desire. +</P> + +<P> +On this day of his great battle its lure was overpowering. Little by +little he entered into it, his eyes shining brightly and his ears alert +for the slightest sounds that might come out of it. His heart beat +faster. The gloom enveloped him more. He forgot the windfall and Kazan +and Gray Wolf. Here before him lay the thrill of adventure. He heard +strange sounds, but very soft sounds, as if made by padded feet and +downy wings, and they filled him with a thrilling expectancy. Under his +feet there were no grass or weeds or flowers, but a wonderful brown +carpet of soft evergreen needles. They felt good to his feet, and were +so velvety that he could not hear his own movement. +</P> + +<P> +He was fully three hundred yards from the windfall when he passed +Oohoomisew's stub and into a thick growth of young balsams. And +there—directly in his path—crouched the monster! +</P> + +<P> +Papayuchisew [Young Owl] was not more than a third as large as Baree. +But he was a terrifying-looking object. To Baree he seemed all head and +eyes. He could see no body at all. Kazan had never brought in anything +like this, and for a full half-minute he remained very quiet, eying it +speculatively. Papayuchisew did not move a feather. But as Baree +advanced, a cautious step at a time, the bird's eyes grew bigger and +the feathers about his head ruffled up as if stirred by a puff of wind. +He came of a fighting family, this little Papayuchisew—a savage, +fearless, and killing family—and even Kazan would have taken note of +those ruffling feathers. +</P> + +<P> +With a space of two feet between them, the pup and the owlet eyed each +other. In that moment, if Gray Wolf could have been there, she might +have said to Baree: "Use your legs—and run!" And Oohoomisew, the old +owl, might have said to Papayuchisew: "You little fool—use your wings +and fly!" +</P> + +<P> +They did neither—and the fight began. +</P> + +<P> +Papayuchisew started it, and with a single wild yelp Baree went back in +a heap, the owlet's beak fastened like a red-hot vise in the soft flesh +at the end of his nose. That one yelp of surprise and pain was Baree's +first and last cry in the fight. The wolf surged in him; rage and the +desire to kill possessed him. As Papayuchisew hung on, he made a +curious hissing sound; and as Baree rolled and gnashed his teeth and +fought to free himself from that amazing grip on his nose, fierce +little snarls rose out of his throat. +</P> + +<P> +For fully a minute Baree had no use of his jaws. Then, by accident, he +wedged Papayuchisew in a crotch of a low ground shrub, and a bit of his +nose gave way. He might have run then, but instead of that he was back +at the owlet like a flash. Flop went Papayuchisew on his back, and +Baree buried his needlelike teeth in the bird's breast. It was like +trying to bite through a pillow, the feathers fangs, and just as they +were beginning to prick the owlet's skin, Papayuchisew—jabbing a +little blindly with a beak that snapped sharply every time it +closed—got him by the ear. +</P> + +<P> +The pain of that hold was excruciating to Baree, and he made a more +desperate effort to get his teeth through his enemy's thick armor of +feathers. In the struggle they rolled under the low balsams to the edge +of the ravine through which ran the creek. Over the steep edge they +plunged, and as they rolled and bumped to the bottom, Baree loosed his +hold. Papayuchisew hung valiantly on, and when they reached the bottom +he still had his grip on Baree's ear. +</P> + +<P> +Baree's nose was bleeding. His ear felt as if it were being pulled from +his head; and in this uncomfortable moment a newly awakened instinct +made Baby Papayuchisew discover his wings as a fighting asset. An owl +has never really begun to fight until he uses his wings, and with a +joyous hissing, Papayuchisew began beating his antagonist so fast and +so viciously that Baree was dazed. He was compelled to close his eyes, +and he snapped blindly. For the first time since the battle began he +felt a strong inclination to get away. He tried to tear himself free +with his forepaws, but Papayuchisew—slow to reason but of firm +conviction—hung to Baree's ear like grim fate. +</P> + +<P> +At this critical point, when the understanding of defeat was forming +itself swiftly in Baree's mind, chance saved him. His fangs closed on +one of the owlet's tender feet. Papayuchisew gave a sudden squeak. The +ear was free at last—and with a snarl of triumph Baree gave a vicious +tug at Papayuchisew's leg. +</P> + +<P> +In the excitement of battle he had not heard the rushing tumult of the +creek close under them, and over the edge of a rock Papayuchisew and he +went together, the chill water of the rain-swollen stream muffling a +final snarl and a final hiss of the two little fighters. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 3 +</H3> + +<P> +To Papayuchisew, after his first mouthful of water, the stream was +almost as safe as the air, for he went sailing down it with the +lightness of a gull, wondering in his slow-thinking big head why he was +moving so swiftly and so pleasantly without any effort of his own. +</P> + +<P> +To Baree it was a different matter. He went down almost like a stone. A +mighty roaring filled his ears; it was dark, suffocating, terrible. In +the swift current he was twisted over and over. For a distance of +twenty feet he was under water. Then he rose to the surface and +desperately began using his legs. It was of little use. He had only +time to blink once or twice and catch a lungful of air when he shot +into a current that was running like a millrace between the butts of +two fallen trees, and for another twenty feet the sharpest eyes could +not have seen hair or hide of him. He came up again at the edge of a +shallow riffle over which the water ran like the rapids at Niagara in +miniature, and for fifty or sixty yards he was flung along like a hairy +ball. From this he was hurled into a deep, cold pool. And then—half +dead—he found himself crawling out on a gravelly bar. +</P> + +<P> +For a long time Baree lay there in a pool of sunlight without moving. +His ear hurt him; his nose was raw, and burned as if he had thrust it +into fire. His legs and body were sore, and as he began to wander along +the gravel bar, he was quite probably the most wretched pup in the +world. He was also completely turned around. In vain he looked about +him for some familiar mark—something that might guide him back to his +windfall home. Everything was strange. He did not know that the water +had flung him out on the wrong side of the stream, and that to reach +the windfall he would have to cross it again. He whined, but that was +as loud as his voice rose. Gray Wolf could have heard his barking, for +the windfall was not more than two hundred and fifty yards up the +stream. But the wolf in Baree held him silent, except for his low +whining. +</P> + +<P> +Striking the main shore, Baree began going downstream. This was away +from the windfall, and each step that he took carried him farther and +farther from home. Every little while he stopped and listened. The +forest was deeper. It was growing blacker and more mysterious. Its +silence was frightening. At the end of half an hour Baree would even +have welcomed Papayuchisew. And he would not have fought him—he would +have inquired, if possible, the way back home. +</P> + +<P> +Baree was fully three-quarters of a mile from the windfall when he came +to a point where the creek split itself into two channels. He had but +one choice to follow—the stream that flowed a little south and east. +This stream did not run swiftly. It was not filled with shimmering +riffles, and rocks about which the water sang and foamed. It grew +black, like the forest. It was still and deep. Without knowing it, +Baree was burying himself deeper and deeper into Tusoo's old trapping +grounds. Since Tusoo had died, they had lain undisturbed except for the +wolves, for Gray Wolf and Kazan had not hunted on this side of the +waterway—and the wolves themselves preferred the more open country for +the chase. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Baree found himself at the edge of a deep, dark pool in which +the water lay still as oil, and his heart nearly jumped out of his body +when a great, sleek, shining creature sprang out from almost under his +nose and landed with a tremendous splash in the center of it. It was +Nekik, the otter. +</P> + +<P> +The otter had not heard Baree, and in another moment Napanekik, his +wife, came sailing out of a patch of gloom, and behind her came three +little otters, leaving behind them four shimmering wakes in the +oily-looking water. What happened after that made Baree forget for a +few minutes that he was lost. Nekik had disappeared under the surface, +and now he came up directly under his unsuspecting mate with a force +that lifted her half out of the water. Instantly he was gone again, and +Napanekik took after him fiercely. To Baree it did not look like play. +Two of the baby otters had pitched on the third, which seemed to be +fighting desperately. The chill and ache went out of Baree's body. His +blood ran excitedly. He forgot himself, and let out a bark. In a flash +the otters disappeared. For several minutes the water in the pool +continued to rock and heave—and that was all. After a little, Baree +drew himself back into the bushes and went on. +</P> + +<P> +It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun should still +have been well up in the sky. But it was growing darker steadily, and +the strangeness and fear of it all lent greater speed to Baree's legs. +He stopped every little while to listen, and at one of these intervals +he heard a sound that drew from him a responsive and joyous whine. It +was a distant howl—a wolf's howl—straight ahead of him. Baree was not +thinking of wolves but of Kazan, and he ran through the gloom of the +forest until he was winded. Then he stopped and listened a long time. +The wolf howl did not come again. Instead of it there rolled up from +the west a deep and thunderous rumble. Through the tree-tops there +flashed a vivid streak of lightning. A moaning whisper of wind rode in +advance of the storm. The thunder sounded nearer; and a second flash of +lightning seemed searching Baree out where he stood shivering under a +canopy of great spruce. +</P> + +<P> +This was his second storm. The first had frightened him terribly, and +he had crawled far back into the shelter of the windfall. The best he +could find now was a hollow under a big root, and into this he slunk, +crying softly. It was a babyish cry, a cry for his mother, for home, +for warmth, for something soft and protecting to nestle up to. And as +he cried, the storm burst over the forest. +</P> + +<P> +Baree had never before heard so much noise, and he had never seen the +lightning play in such sheets of fire as when this June deluge fell. It +seemed at times as though the whole world were aflame, and the earth +seemed to shake and roll under the crashes of the thunder. He ceased +his crying and made himself as small as he could under the root, which +protected him partly from the terrific beat of the rain which came down +through the treetops in a flood. It was now so black that except when +the lightning ripped great holes in the gloom he could not see the +spruce trunks twenty feet away. Twice that distance from Baree there +was a huge dead stub that stood out like a ghost each time the fires +swept the sky, as if defying the flaming hands up there to strike—and +strike, at last, one of them did! A bluish tongue of snapping flame ran +down the old stub; and as it touched the earth, there came a tremendous +explosion above the treetops. The massive stub shivered, and then it +broke asunder as if cloven by a gigantic ax. It crashed down so close +to Baree that earth and sticks flew about him, and he let out a wild +yelp of terror as he tried to crowd himself deeper into the shallow +hole under the root. +</P> + +<P> +With the destruction of the old stub the thunder and lightning seemed +to have vented their malevolence. The thunder passed on into the south +and east like the rolling of ten thousand heavy cart wheels over the +roofs of the forest, and the lightning went with it. The rain fell +steadily. The hole in which he had taken shelter was partly filled with +water. He was drenched. His teeth chattered as he waited for the next +thing to happen. +</P> + +<P> +It was a long wait. When the rain finally stopped, and the sky cleared, +it was night. Through the tops of the trees Baree could have seen the +stars if he had poked out his head and looked upward. But he clung to +his hole. Hour after hour passed. Exhausted, half drowned, footsore, +and hungry, he did not move. At last he fell into a troubled sleep, a +sleep in which every now and then he cried softly and forlornly for his +mother. When he ventured out from under the root it was morning, and +the sun was shining. +</P> + +<P> +At first Baree could hardly stand. His legs were cramped. Every bone in +his body seemed out of joint. His ear was stiff where the blood had +oozed out of it and hardened, and when he tried to wrinkle his wounded +nose, he gave a sharp little yap of pain. If such a thing were +possible, he looked even worse than he felt. His hair had dried in +muddy patches; he was dirt-stained from end to end; and where yesterday +he had been plump and shiny, he was now as thin and wretched as +misfortune could possibly make him. And he was hungry. He had never +before known what it meant to be really hungry. +</P> + +<P> +When he went on, continuing in the direction he had been following +yesterday, he slunk along in a disheartened sort of way. His head and +ears were no longer alert, and his curiosity was gone. He was not only +stomach hungry: mother hunger rose above his physical yearning for +something to eat. He wanted his mother as he had never wanted her +before in his life. He wanted to snuggle his shivering little body +close up to her and feel the warm caressing of her tongue and listen to +the mothering whine of her voice. And he wanted Kazan, and the old +windfall, and that big blue spot that was in the sky right over it. As +he followed again along the edge of the creek, he whimpered for them as +a child might grieve. +</P> + +<P> +The forest grew more open after a time, and this cheered him up a +little. Also the warmth of the sun was taking the ache out of his body. +But he grew hungrier and hungrier. He always had depended entirely on +Kazan and Gray Wolf for food. His parents had, in some ways, made a +great baby of him. Gray Wolf's blindness accounted for this, for since +his birth she had not taken up her hunting with Kazan, and it was quite +natural that Baree should stick close to her, though more than once he +had been filled with a great yearning to follow his father. Nature was +hard at work trying to overcome its handicap now. It was struggling to +impress on Baree that the time had now come when he must seek his own +food. The fact impinged itself upon him slowly but steadily, and he +began to think of the three or four shellfish he had caught and +devoured on the stony creek bar near the windfall. He also remembered +the open clamshell he had found, and the lusciousness of the tender +morsel inside it. A new excitement began to possess him. He became, all +at once, a hunter. +</P> + +<P> +With the thinning out of the forest the creek grew more shallow. It ran +again over bars of sand and stones, and Baree began to nose along the +edge of the shallows. For a long time he had no success. The few +crayfish that he saw were exceedingly lively and elusive, and all the +clamshells were shut so tight that even Kazan's powerful jaws would +have had difficulty in smashing them. It was almost noon when he caught +his first crayfish, about as big as a man's forefinger. He devoured it +ravenously. The taste of food gave him fresh courage. He caught two +more crayfish during the afternoon. It was almost dusk when he stirred +a young rabbit out from under a cover of grass. If he had been a month +older, he could have caught it. He was still very hungry, for three +crayfish—scattered through the day—had not done much to fill the +emptiness that was growing steadily in him. +</P> + +<P> +With the approach of night Baree's fears and great loneliness returned. +Before the day had quite gone he found soft bed of sand. Since his +fight with Papayuchisew, he had traveled a long distance, and the rock +under which he made his bed this night was at least eight or nine miles +from the windfall. It was in the open of the creek bottom, with and +when the moon rose, and the stars filled the sky, Baree could look out +and see the water of the stream shimmering in a glow almost as bright +as day. Directly in front of him, running to the water's edge, was a +broad carpet of white sand. Across this sand, half an hour later, came +a huge black bear. +</P> + +<P> +Until Baree had seen the otters at play in the creek, his conceptions +of the forests had not gone beyond his own kind, and such creatures as +owls and rabbits and small feathered things. The otters had not +frightened him, because he still measured things by size, and Nekik was +not half as big as Kazan. But the bear was a monster beside which Kazan +would have stood a mere pygmy. He was big. If nature was taking this +way of introducing Baree to the fact that there were more important +creatures in the forests than dogs and wolves and owls and crayfish, +she was driving the point home with a little more than necessary +emphasis. For Wakayoo, the bear, weighed six hundred pounds if he +weighed an ounce. He was fat and sleek from a month's feasting on fish. +His shiny coat was like black velvet in the moonlight, and he walked +with a curious rolling motion with his head hung low. The horror grew +when he stopped broadside in the carpet of sand not more than ten feet +from the rock under which Baree was shivering. +</P> + +<P> +It was quite evident that Wakayoo had caught scent of him in the air. +Baree could hear him sniff—could hear his breathing—caught the +starlight flashing in his reddish-brown eyes as they swung suspiciously +toward the big boulder. If Baree could have known then that he—his +insignificant little self—was making that monster actually nervous and +uneasy, he would have given a yelp of joy. For Wakayoo, in spite of his +size, was somewhat of a coward when it came to wolves. And Baree +carried the wolf scent. It grew stronger in Wakayoo's nose; and just +then, as if to increase whatever nervousness was growing in him, there +came from out of the forest behind him a long and wailing howl. +</P> + +<P> +With an audible grunt, Wakayoo moved on. Wolves were pests, he argued. +They wouldn't stand up and fight. They'd snap and yap at one's heels +for hours at a time, and were always out of the way quicker than a wink +when one turned on them. What was the use of hanging around where there +were wolves, on a beautiful night like this? He lumbered on decisively. +Baree could hear him splashing heavily through the water of the creek. +Not until then did the wolf dog draw a full breath. It was almost a +gasp. +</P> + +<P> +But the excitement was not over for the night. Baree had chosen his bed +at a place where the animals came down to drink, and where they crossed +from one of the creek forests to the other. Not long after the bear had +disappeared he heard a heavy crunching in the sand, and hoofs rattling +against stones, and a bull moose with a huge sweep of antlers passed +through the open space in the moonlight. Baree stared with popping +eyes, for if Wakayoo had weighed six hundred pounds, this gigantic +creature whose legs were so long that it seemed to be walking on stilts +weighed at least twice as much. A cow moose followed, and then a calf. +</P> + +<P> +The calf seemed all legs. It was too much for Baree, and he shoved +himself farther and farther back under the rock until he lay wedged in +like a sardine in a box. And there he lay until morning. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 4 +</H3> + +<P> +When Baree ventured forth from under his rock at the beginning of the +next day, he was a much older puppy than when he met Papayuchisew, the +young owl, in his path near the old windfall. If experience can be made +to take the place of age, he had aged a great deal in the last +forty-eight hours. In fact, he had passed almost out of puppyhood. He +awoke with a new and much broader conception of the world. It was a big +place. It was filled with many things, of which Kazan and Gray Wolf +were not the most important. The monsters he had seen on the moonlit +plot of sand had roused in him a new kind of caution, and the one +greatest instinct of beasts—the primal understanding that it is the +strong that prey upon the weak—was wakening swiftly in him. As yet he +quite naturally measured brute force and the menace of things by size +alone. Thus the bear was more terrible than Kazan, and the moose was +more terrible than the bear. +</P> + +<P> +It was quite fortunate for Baree that this instinct did not go to the +limit in the beginning and make him understand that his own breed—the +wolf—was most feared of all the creatures, claw, hoof, and wing, of +the forests. Otherwise, like the small boy who thinks he can swim +before he has mastered a stroke, he might somewhere have jumped in +beyond his depth and had his head chewed off. +</P> + +<P> +Very much alert, with the hair standing up along his spine, and a +little growl in his throat, Baree smelled of the big footprints made by +the bear and the moose. It was the bear scent that made him growl. He +followed the tracks to the edge of the creek. After that he resumed his +wandering, and also his hunt for food. +</P> + +<P> +For two hours he did not find a crayfish. Then he came out of the green +timber into the edge of a burned-over country. Here everything was +black. The stumps of the trees stood up like huge charred canes. It was +a comparatively fresh "burn" of last autumn, and the ash was still soft +under Baree's feet. Straight through this black region ran the creek, +and over it hung a blue sky in which the sun was shining. It was quite +inviting to Baree. The fox, the wolf, the moose, and the caribou would +have turned back from the edge of this dead country. In another year it +would be good hunting ground, but now it was lifeless. Even the owls +would have found nothing to eat out there. +</P> + +<P> +It was the blue sky and the sun and the softness of the earth under his +feet that lured Baree. It was pleasant to travel in after his painful +experiences in the forest. He continued to follow the stream, though +there was now little possibility of his finding anything to eat. The +water had become sluggish and dark. The channel was choked with charred +debris that had fallen into it when the forest had burned, and its +shores were soft and muddy. After a time, when Baree stopped and looked +about him, he could no longer see the green timber he had left. He was +alone in that desolate wilderness of charred tree corpses. It was as +still as death, too. Not the chirp of a bird broke the silence. In the +soft ash he could not hear the fall of his own feet. But he was not +frightened. There was the assurance of safety here. +</P> + +<P> +If he could only find something to eat! That was the master thought +that possessed Baree. Instinct had not yet impressed upon him that this +which he saw all about him was starvation. He went on, seeking +hopefully for food. But at last, as the hours passed, hope began to die +in him. The sun sank westward. The sky grew less blue; a low wind began +to ride over the tops of the stubs, and now and then one of them fell +with a startling crash. +</P> + +<P> +Baree could go no farther. An hour before dusk he lay down in the open, +weak and starved. The sun disappeared behind the forest. The moon +rolled up from the east. The sky glittered with stars—and all through +the night Baree lay as if dead. When morning came, he dragged himself +to the stream for a drink. With his last strength he went on. It was +the wolf urging him—compelling him to struggle to the last for his +life. The dog in him wanted to lie down and die. But the wolf spark in +him burned stronger. In the end it won. Half a mile farther on he came +again to the green timber. +</P> + +<P> +In the forests as well as in the great cities fate plays its changing +and whimsical hand. If Baree had dragged himself into the timber half +an hour later he would have died. He was too far gone now to hunt for +crayfish or kill the weakest bird. But he came just as Sekoosew, the +ermine, the most bloodthirsty little pirate of all the wild—was making +a kill. +</P> + +<P> +That was fully a hundred yards from where Baree lay stretched out under +a spruce, almost ready to give up the ghost. Sekoosew was a mighty +hunter of his kind. His body was about seven inches long, with a tiny +black-tipped tail appended to it, and he weighed perhaps five ounces. A +baby's fingers could have encircled him anywhere between his four legs, +and his little sharp-pointed head with its beady red eyes could slip +easily through a hole an inch in diameter. For several centuries +Sekoosew had helped to make history. It was he—when his pelt was worth +a hundred dollars in king's gold—that lured the first shipload of +gentlemen adventurers over the sea, with Prince Rupert at their head. +It was little Sekoosew who was responsible for the forming of the great +Hudson's Bay Company and the discovery of half a continent. For almost +three centuries he had fought his fight for existence with the trapper. +And now, though he was no longer worth his weight in yellow gold, he +was the cleverest, the fiercest, and the most merciless of all the +creatures that made up his world. +</P> + +<P> +As Baree lay under his tree, Sekoosew was creeping on his prey. His +game was a big fat spruce hen standing under a thicket of black currant +bushes. The ear of no living thing could have heard Sekoosew's +movement. He was like a shadow—a gray dot here, a flash there, now +hidden behind a stick no larger than a man's wrist, appearing for a +moment, the next instant gone as completely as if he had not existed. +Thus he approached from fifty feet to within three feet of the spruce +hen. That was his favorite striking distance. Unerringly he launched +himself at the drowsy partridge's throat, and his needlelike teeth sank +through feathers into flesh. +</P> + +<P> +Sekoosew was prepared for what happened then. It always happened when +he attacked Napanao, the wood partridge. Her wings were powerful, and +her first instinct when he struck was always that of flight. She rose +straight up now with a great thunder of wings. Sekoosew hung tight, his +teeth buried deep in her throat, and his tiny, sharp claws clinging to +her like hands. Through the air he whizzed with her, biting deeper and +deeper, until a hundred yards from where that terrible death thing had +fastened to her throat, Napanao crashed again to earth. +</P> + +<P> +Where she fell was not ten feet from Baree. For a few moments he looked +at the struggling mass of feathers in a daze, not quite comprehending +that at last food was almost within his reach. Napanao was dying, but +she still struggled convulsively with her wings. Baree rose stealthily, +and after a moment in which he gathered all his remaining strength, he +made a rush for her. His teeth sank into her breast—and not until then +did he see Sekoosew. The ermine had raised his head from the death grip +at the partridge's throat, and his savage little red eyes glared for a +single instant into Baree's. Here was something too big to kill, and +with an angry squeak the ermine was gone. Napanao's wings relaxed, and +the throb went out of her body. She was dead. Baree hung on until he +was sure. Then he began his feast. +</P> + +<P> +With murder in his heart, Sekoosew hovered near, whisking here and +there but never coming nearer than half a dozen feet from Baree. His +eyes were redder than ever. Now and then he emitted a sharp little +squeak of rage. Never had he been so angry in all his life! To have a +fat partridge stolen from him like this was an imposition he had never +suffered before. He wanted to dart in and fasten his teeth in Baree's +jugular. But he was too good a general to make the attempt, too good a +Napoleon to jump deliberately to his Waterloo. An owl he would have +fought. He might even have given battle to his big brother—and his +deadliest enemy—the mink. But in Baree he recognized the wolf breed, +and he vented his spite at a distance. After a time his good sense +returned, and he went off on another hunt. +</P> + +<P> +Baree ate a third of the partridge, and the remaining two thirds he +cached very carefully at the foot of the big spruce. Then he hurried +down to the creek for a drink. The world looked very different to him +now. After all, one's capacity for happiness depends largely on how +deeply one has suffered. One's hard luck and misfortune form the +measuring stick for future good luck and fortune. So it was with Baree. +Forty-eight hours ago a full stomach would not have made him a tenth +part as happy as he was now. Then his greatest longing was for his +mother. Since then a still greater yearning had come into his life—for +food. In a way it was fortunate for him that he had almost died of +exhaustion and starvation, for his experience had helped to make a man +of him—or a wolf dog, just as you are of a mind to put it. He would +miss his mother for a long time. But he would never miss her again as +he had missed her yesterday and the day before. +</P> + +<P> +That afternoon Baree took a long nap close to his cache. Then he +uncovered the partridge and ate his supper. When his fourth night alone +came, he did not hide himself as he had done on the three preceding +nights. He was strangely and curiously alert. Under the moon and the +stars he prowled in the edge of the forest and out on the burn. He +listened with a new kind of thrill to the faraway cry of a wolf pack on +the hunt. He listened to the ghostly whoo-whoo-whoo of the owls without +shivering. Sounds and silences were beginning to hold a new and +significant note for him. +</P> + +<P> +For another day and night Baree remained in the vicinity of his cache. +When the last bone was picked, he moved on. He now entered a country +where subsistence was no longer a perilous problem for him. It was a +lynx country, and where there are lynx, there are also a great many +rabbits. When the rabbits thin out, the lynx emigrate to better hunting +grounds. As the snowshoe rabbit breeds all the summer through, Baree +found himself in a land of plenty. It was not difficult for him to +catch and kill the young rabbits. For a week he prospered and grew +bigger and stronger each day. But all the time, stirred by that +seeking, wanderlust spirit—still hoping to find the old home and his +mother—he traveled into the north and east. +</P> + +<P> +And this was straight into the trapping country of Pierrot, the +half-breed. +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot, until two years ago, had believed himself to be one of the +most fortunate men in the big wilderness. That was before La Mort +Rouge—the Red Death—came. He was half French, and he had married a +Cree chief's daughter, and in their log cabin on the Gray Loon they had +lived for many years in great prosperity and happiness. Pierrot was +proud of three things in this wild world of his. He was immensely proud +of Wyola, his royal-blooded wife. He was proud of his daughter; and he +was proud of his reputation as a hunter. Until the Red Death came, life +was quite complete for him. It was then—two years ago—that the +smallpox killed his princess wife. He still lived in the little cabin +on the Gray Loon, but he was a different Pierrot. The heart was sick in +him. It would have died, had it not been for Nepeese, his daughter. His +wife had named her Nepeese, which means the Willow. +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese had grown up like the willow, slender as a reed, with all her +mother's wild beauty, and with a little of the French thrown in. She +was sixteen, with great, dark, wonderful eyes, and hair so beautiful +that an agent from Montreal passing that way had once tried to buy it. +It fell in two shining braids, each as big as a man's wrist, almost to +her knees. "Non, M'sieu," Pierrot had said, a cold glitter in his eyes +as he saw what was in the agent's face. "It is not for barter." +</P> + +<P> +Two days after Baree had entered his trapping ground, Pierrot came in +from the forests with a troubled look in his face. +</P> + +<P> +"Something is killing off the young beavers," he explained to Nepeese, +speaking to her in French. "It is a lynx or a wolf. Tomorrow—" He +shrugged his thin shoulders, and smiled at her. +</P> + +<P> +"We will go on the hunt," laughed Nepeese happily, in her soft Cree. +</P> + +<P> +When Pierrot smiled at her like that, and began with "Tomorrow," it +always meant that she might go with him on the adventure he was +contemplating. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Still another day later, at the end of the afternoon, Baree crossed the +Gray Loon on a bridge of driftwood that had wedged between two trees. +This was to the north. Just beyond the driftwood bridge there was a +small clearing, and on the edge of it Baree paused to enjoy the last of +the setting sun. As he stood motionless and listening, his tail +drooping low, his ears alert, his sharp-pointed nose sniffing the new +country to the north, there was not a pair of eyes in the forest that +would not have taken him for a young wolf. +</P> + +<P> +From behind a clump of young balsams, a hundred yards away, Pierrot and +Nepeese had watched him come over the driftwood bridge. Now was the +time, and Pierrot leveled his rifle. It was not until then that Nepeese +touched his arm softly. Her breath came a little excitedly as she +whispered: +</P> + +<P> +"Nootawe, let me shoot. I can kill him!" +</P> + +<P> +With a low chuckle Pierrot gave the gun to her. He counted the whelp as +already dead. For Nepeese, at that distance, could send a bullet into +an inch square nine times out of ten. And Nepeese, aiming carefully at +Baree, pressed steadily with her brown forefinger upon the trigger. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 5 +</H3> + +<P> +As the Willow pulled the trigger of her rifle, Baree sprang into the +air. He felt the force of the bullet before he heard the report of the +gun. It lifted him off his feet, and then sent him rolling over and +over as if he had been struck a hideous blow with a club. For a flash +he did not feel pain. Then it ran through him like a knife of fire, and +with that pain the dog in him rose above the wolf, and he let out a +wild outcry of puppyish yapping as he rolled and twisted on the ground. +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot and Nepeese had stepped from behind the balsams, the Willow's +beautiful eyes shining with pride at the accuracy of her shot. +Instantly she caught her breath. Her brown fingers clutched at the +barrel of her rifle. The chuckle of satisfaction died on Pierrot's lips +as Baree's cries of pain filled the forest. +</P> + +<P> +"Uchi moosis!" gasped Nepeese, in her Cree. +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot caught the rifle from her. +</P> + +<P> +"Diable! A dog—a puppy!" he cried. +</P> + +<P> +He started on a run for Baree. But in their amazement they had lost a +few seconds and Baree's dazed senses were returning. He saw them +clearly as they came across the open—a new kind of monster of the +forests! With a final wail he darted back into the deep shadows of the +trees. It was almost sunset, and he ran for the thick gloom of the +heavy spruce near the creek. He had shivered at sight of the bear and +the moose, but for the first time he now sensed the real meaning of +danger. And it was close after him. He could hear the crashing of the +two-legged beasts in pursuit; strange cries were almost at his +heels—and then suddenly he plunged without warning into a hole. +</P> + +<P> +It was a shock to have the earth go out from under his feet like that, +but Baree did not yelp. The wolf was dominant in him again. It urged +him to remain where he was, making no move, no sound—scarcely +breathing. The voices were over him; the strange feet almost stumbled +in the hole where he lay. Looking out of his dark hiding place, he +could see one of his enemies. It was Nepeese, the Willow. She was +standing so that a last glow of the day fell upon her face. Baree did +not take his eyes from her. +</P> + +<P> +Above his pain there rose in him a strange and thrilling fascination. +The girl put her two hands to her mouth and in a voice that was soft +and plaintive and amazingly comforting to his terrified little heart, +cried: +</P> + +<P> +"Uchimoo—Uchimoo—Uchimoo!" +</P> + +<P> +And then he heard another voice; and this voice, too, was far less +terrible than many sounds he had listened to in the forests. +</P> + +<P> +"We cannot find him, Nepeese," the voice was saying. "He has crawled +off to die. It is too bad. Come." +</P> + +<P> +Where Baree had stood in the edge of the open Pierrot paused and +pointed to a birch sapling that had been cut clean off by the Willow's +bullet. Nepeese understood. The sapling, no larger than her thumb, had +turned her shot a trifle and had saved Baree from instant death. She +turned again, and called: +</P> + +<P> +"Uchimoo—Uchimoo—Uchimoo!" +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes were no longer filled with the thrill of slaughter. +</P> + +<P> +"He would not understand that," said Pierrot, leading the way across +the open. "He is wild—born of the wolves. Perhaps he was of Koomo's +lead bitch, who ran away to hunt with the packs last winter." +</P> + +<P> +"And he will die—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ayetun—yes, he will die." +</P> + +<P> +But Baree had no idea of dying. He was too tough a youngster to be +shocked to death by a bullet passing through the soft flesh of his +foreleg. That was what had happened. His leg was torn to the bone, but +the bone itself was untouched. He waited until the moon had risen +before he crawled out of his hole. +</P> + +<P> +His leg had grown stiff, but it had stopped bleeding, though his whole +body was racked by a terrible pain. A dozen Papayuchisews, all holding +right to his ears and nose, could not have hurt him more. Every time he +moved, a sharp twinge shot through him; and yet he persisted in moving. +Instinctively he felt that by traveling away from the hole he would get +away from danger. This was the best thing that could have happened to +him, for a little later a porcupine came wandering along, chattering to +itself in its foolish, good-humored way, and fell with a fat thud into +the hole. Had Baree remained, he would have been so full of quills that +he must surely have died. +</P> + +<P> +In another way the exercise of travel was good for Baree. It gave his +wound no opportunity to "set," as Pierrot would have said, for in +reality his hurt was more painful than serious. For the first hundred +yards he hobbled along on three legs, and after that he found that he +could use his fourth by humoring it a great deal. He followed the creek +for a half mile. Whenever a bit of brush touched his wound, he would +snap at it viciously, and instead of whimpering when he felt one of the +sharp twinges shooting through him, an angry little growl gathered in +his throat, and his teeth clicked. Now that he was out of the hole, the +effect of the Willow's shot was stirring every drop of wolf blood in +his body. In him there was a growing animosity—a feeling of rage not +against any one thing in particular, but against all things. It was not +the feeling with which he had fought Papayuchisew, the young owl. On +this night the dog in him had disappeared. An accumulation of +misfortunes had descended upon him, and out of these misfortunes—and +his present hurt—the wolf had risen savage and vengeful. +</P> + +<P> +This was the first time Baree had traveled at night. He was, for the +time, unafraid of anything that might creep up on him out of the +darkness. The blackest shadows had lost their terror. It was the first +big fight between the two natures that were born in him—the wolf and +the dog—and the dog was vanquished. Now and then he stopped to lick +his wound, and as he licked it he growled, as though for the hurt +itself he held a personal antagonism. If Pierrot could have seen and +heard, he would have understood very quickly, and he would have said: +"Let him die. The club will never take that devil out of him." +</P> + +<P> +In this humor Baree came, an hour later, out of the heavy timber of the +creek bottom into the more open spaces of a small plain that ran along +the foot of a ridge. It was in this plain that Oohoomisew hunted. +Oohoomisew was a huge snow owl. He was the patriarch among all the owls +of Pierrot's trapping domain. He was so old that he was almost blind, +and therefore he never hunted as other owls hunted. He did not hide +himself in the black cover of spruce and balsam tops, or float softly +through the night, ready in an instant to swoop down upon his prey. His +eyesight was so poor that from a spruce top he could not have seen a +rabbit at all, and he might have mistaken a fox for a mouse. +</P> + +<P> +So old Oohoomisew, learning wisdom from experience, hunted from ambush. +He would squat on the ground, and for hours at a time he would remain +there without making a sound and scarcely moving a feather, waiting +with the patience of Job for something to eat to come his way. Now and +then he had made mistakes. Twice he had mistaken a lynx for a rabbit, +and in the second attack he had lost a foot, so that when he slumbered +aloft during the day he clung to his perch with one claw. Crippled, +nearly blind, and so old that he had long ago lost the tufts of +feathers over his ears, he was still a giant in strength, and when he +was angry, one could hear the snap of his beak twenty yards away. +</P> + +<P> +For three nights he had been unlucky, and tonight he had been +particularly unfortunate. Two rabbits had come his way, and he had +lunged at each of them from his cover. The first he had missed +entirely; the second had left with him a mouthful of fur—and that was +all. He was ravenously hungry, and he was gritting his bill in his bad +temper when he heard Baree approaching. +</P> + +<P> +Even if Baree could have seen under the dark bush ahead, and had +discovered Oohoomisew ready to dart from his ambush, it is not likely +that he would have gone very far aside. His own fighting blood was up. +He, too, was ready for war. +</P> + +<P> +Very indistinctly Oohoomisew saw him at last, coming across the little +open space which he was watching. He squatted down. His feathers +ruffled up until he was like a ball. His almost sightless eyes glowed +like two bluish pools of fire. Ten feet away, Baree stopped for a +moment and licked his wound. Oohoomisew waited cautiously. Again Baree +advanced, passing within six feet of the bush. With a swift hop and a +sudden thunder of his powerful wings the great owl was upon him. +</P> + +<P> +This time Baree let out no cry of pain or of fright. The wolf is +kipichi-mao, as the Indians say. No hunter ever heard a trapped wolf +whine for mercy at the sting of a bullet or the beat of a club. He dies +with his fangs bared. Tonight it was a wolf whelp that Oohoomisew was +attacking, and not a dog pup. The owl's first rush keeled Baree over, +and for a moment he was smothered under the huge, outspread wings, +while Oohoomisew—pinioning him down—hopped for a claw hold with his +one good foot, and struck fiercely with his beak. +</P> + +<P> +One blow of that beak anywhere about the head would have settled for a +rabbit, but at the first thrust Oohoomisew discovered that it was not a +rabbit he was holding under his wings. A bloodcurdling snarl answered +the blow, and Oohoomisew remembered the lynx, his lost foot, and his +narrow escape with his life. The old pirate might have beaten a +retreat, but Baree was no longer the puppyish Baree of that hour in +which he had fought young Papayuchisew. Experience and hardship had +aged and strengthened him. His jaws had passed quickly from the +bone-licking to the bone-cracking age—and before Oohoomisew could get +away, if he was thinking of flight at all, Baree's fangs closed with a +vicious snap on his one good leg. +</P> + +<P> +In the stillness of night there rose a still greater thunder of wings, +and for a few moments Baree closed his eyes to keep from being blinded +by Oohoomisew's furious blows. But he hung on grimly, and as his teeth +met through the flesh of the old night-pirate's leg, his angry snarl +carried defiance to Oohoomisew's ears. Rare good fortune had given him +that grip on the leg, and Baree knew that triumph or defeat depended on +his ability to hold it. The old owl had no other claw to sink into him, +and it was impossible—caught as he was—for him to tear at Baree with +his beak. So he continued to beat that thunder of blows with his +four-foot wings. +</P> + +<P> +The wings made a great tumult about Baree, but they did not hurt him. +He buried his fangs deeper. His snarls rose more fiercely as he got the +taste of Oohoomisew's blood, and through him there surged more hotly +the desire to kill this monster of the night, as though in the death of +this creature he had the opportunity of avenging himself for all the +hurts and hardships that had befallen him since he had lost his mother. +</P> + +<P> +Oohoomisew had never felt a great fear until now. The lynx had snapped +at him but once—and was gone, leaving him crippled. But the lynx had +not snarled in that wolfish way, and it had not hung on. A thousand and +one nights Oohoomisew had listened to the wolf howl. Instinct had told +him what it meant. He had seen the packs pass swiftly through the +night, and always when they passed he had kept in the deepest shadows. +To him, as for all other wild things, the wolf howl stood for death. +But until now, with Baree's fangs buried in his leg, he had never +sensed fully the wolf fear. It had taken it years to enter into his +slow, stupid head—but now that it was there, it possessed him as no +other thing had ever possessed him in all his life. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Oohoomisew ceased his beating and launched himself upward. +Like huge fans his powerful wings churned the air, and Baree felt +himself lifted suddenly from the earth. Still he held on—and in a +moment both bird and beast fell back with a thud. +</P> + +<P> +Oohoomisew tried again. This time he was more successful, and he rose +fully six feet into the air with Baree. They fell again. A third time +the old outlaw fought to wing himself free of Baree's grip; and then, +exhausted, he lay with his giant wings outspread, hissing and cracking +his bill. +</P> + +<P> +Under those wings Baree's mind worked with the swift instincts of the +killer. Suddenly he changed his hold, burying his fangs into the under +part of Oohoomisew's body. They sank into three inches of feathers. +Swift as Baree had been, Oohoomisew was equally swift to take advantage +of his opportunity. In an instant he had swooped upward. There was a +jerk, a rending of feathers from flesh—and Baree was alone on the +field of battle. +</P> + +<P> +Baree had not killed, but he had conquered. His first great day—or +night—had come. The world was filled with a new promise for him, as +vast as the night itself. And after a moment he sat back on his +haunches, sniffing the air for his beaten enemy. Then, as if defying +the feathered monster to come back and fight to the end, he pointed his +sharp little muzzle up to the stars and sent forth his first babyish +wolf howl into the night. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 6 +</H3> + +<P> +Baree's fight with Oohoomisew was good medicine for him. It not only +gave him great confidence in himself, but it also cleared the fever of +ugliness from his blood. He no longer snapped and snarled at things as +he went on through the night. +</P> + +<P> +It was a wonderful night. The moon was straight overhead, and the sky +was filled with stars, so that in the open spaces the light was almost +like that of day, except that it was softer and more beautiful. It was +very still. There was no wind in the treetops, and it seemed to Baree +that the howl he had given must have echoed to the end of the world. +</P> + +<P> +Now and then Baree heard a sound—and always he stopped, attentive and +listening. Far away he heard the long, soft mooing of a cow moose. He +heard a great splashing in the water of a small lake that he came to, +and once there came to him the sharp cracking of horn against horn—two +bucks settling a little difference of opinion a quarter of a mile away. +But it was always the wolf howl that made him sit and listen longest, +his heart beating with a strange impulse which he did not as yet +understand. It was the call of his breed, growing in him slowly but +insistently. +</P> + +<P> +He was still a wanderer—pupamootao, the Indians call it. It is this +"wander spirit" that inspires for a time nearly every creature of the +wild as soon as it is able to care for itself—nature's scheme, +perhaps, for doing away with too close family relations and possibly +dangerous interbreeding. Baree, like the young wolf seeking new hunting +grounds, or the young fox discovering a new world, had no reason or +method in his wandering. He was simply "traveling"—going on. He wanted +something which he could not find. The wolf call brought it to him. +</P> + +<P> +The stars and the moon filled Baree with a yearning for this something. +The distant sounds impinged upon him his great aloneness. And instinct +told him that only by questing could he find. It was not so much Kazan +and Gray Wolf that he missed now—not so much motherhood and home as it +was companionship. Now that he had fought the wolfish rage out of him +in his battle with Oohoomisew, the dog part of him had come into its +own again—the lovable half of him, the part that wanted to snuggle up +near something that was alive and friendly, small odds whether it wore +feathers or fur, was clawed or hoofed. +</P> + +<P> +He was sore from the Willow's bullet, and he was sore from battle, and +toward dawn he lay down under a shelter of some alders at the edge of a +second small lake and rested until midday. Then he began questing in +the reeds and close to the pond lilies for food. He found a dead +jackfish, partly eaten by a mink, and finished it. +</P> + +<P> +His wound was much less painful this afternoon, and by nightfall he +scarcely noticed it at all. Since his almost tragic end at the hands of +Nepeese, he had been traveling in a general northeasterly direction, +following instinctively the run of the waterways. But his progress had +been slow, and when darkness came again he was not more than eight or +ten miles from the hole into which he had fallen after the Willow had +shot him. +</P> + +<P> +Baree did not travel far this night. The fact that his wound had come +with dusk, and his fight with Oohoomisew still later, filled him with +caution. Experience had taught him that the dark shadows and the black +pits in the forest were possible ambuscades of danger. He was no longer +afraid, as he had once been, but he had had fighting enough for a time, +and so he accepted circumspection as the better part of valor and held +himself aloof from the perils of darkness. It was a strange instinct +that made him seek his bed on the top of a huge rock up which he had +some difficulty in climbing. Perhaps it was a harkening back to the +days of long ago when Gray Wolf, in her first motherhood, sought refuge +at the summit of the Sun Rock which towered high above the forest world +of which she and Kazan were a part, and where later she was blinded in +her battle with the lynx. +</P> + +<P> +Baree's rock, instead of rising for a hundred feet or more straight up, +was possibly as high as a man's head. It was in the edge of the creek +bottom, with the spruce forest close at his back. For many hours he did +not sleep, but lay keenly alert, his ears tuned to catch every sound +that came out of the dark world about him. There was more than +curiosity in his alertness tonight. His education had broadened +immensely in one way: he had learned that he was a very small part of +all this wonderful earth that lay under the stars and the moon, and he +was keenly alive with the desire to become better acquainted with it +without any more fighting or hurt. Tonight he knew what it meant when +he saw now and then gray shadows float silently out of the forest into +the moonlight—the owls, monsters of the breed with which he had +fought. He heard the crackling of hoofed feet and the smashing of heavy +bodies in the underbrush. He heard again the mooing of the moose. +Voices came to him that he had not heard before—the sharp yap-yap-yap +of a fox, the unearthly, laughing cry of a great Northern loon on a +lake half a mile away, the scream of a lynx that came floating through +miles of forest, the low, soft croaks of the nighthawks between himself +and the stars. He heard strange whisperings in the +treetops—whisperings of the wind. And once, in the heart of a dead +stillness, a buck whistled shrilly close behind his rock—and at the +wolf scent in the air shot away in a terror-stricken gray streak. +</P> + +<P> +All these sounds held their new meaning for Baree. Swiftly he was +coming into his knowledge of the wilderness. His eyes gleamed; his +blood thrilled. Often for many minutes at a time he scarcely moved. But +of all the sounds that came to him, the wolf cry thrilled him most. +Again and again he listened to it. At times it was far away, so far +that it was like a whisper, dying away almost before it reached him. +Then again it would come to him full-throated, hot with the breath of +the chase, calling him to the red thrill of the hunt, to the wild orgy +of torn flesh and running blood—calling, calling, calling. That was +it, calling him to his own kin, to the bone of his bone and the flesh +of his flesh—to the wild, fierce hunting packs of his mother's tribe! +It was Gray Wolf's voice seeking for him in the night—Gray Wolf's +blood inviting him to the Brotherhood of the Pack. +</P> + +<P> +Baree trembled as he listened. In his throat he whined softly. He edged +to the sheer face of the rock. He wanted to go; nature was urging him +to go. But the call of the wild was struggling against odds. For in him +was the dog, with its generations of subdued and sleeping +instincts—and all that night the dog in him kept Baree to the top of +his rock. +</P> + +<P> +Next morning Baree found many crayfish along the creek, and he feasted +on their succulent flesh until he felt that he would never be hungry +again. Nothing had tasted quite so good since he had eaten the +partridge of which he had robbed Sekoosew the ermine. +</P> + +<P> +In the middle of the afternoon Baree came into a part of the forest +that was very quiet and very peaceful. The creek had deepened. In +places its banks swept out until they formed small ponds. Twice he made +considerable detours to get around these ponds. He traveled very +quietly, listening and watching. Not since the ill-fated day he had +left the old windfall had he felt quite so much at home as now. It +seemed to him that at last he was treading country which he knew, and +where he would find friends. Perhaps this was another miracle mystery +of instinct—of nature. For he was in old Beaver Tooth's domain. It was +here that his father and mother had hunted in the days before he was +born. It was not far from here that Kazan and Beaver Tooth had fought +that mighty duel under water, from which Kazan had escaped with his +life without another breath to lose. +</P> + +<P> +Baree would never know these things. He would never know that he was +traveling over old trails. But something deep in him gripped him +strangely. He sniffed the air, as if in it he found the scent of +familiar things. It was only a faint breath—an indefinable promise +that brought him to the point of a mysterious anticipation. +</P> + +<P> +The forest grew deeper. It was wonderful virgin forest. There was no +undergrowth, and traveling under the trees was like being in a vast, +mystery-filled cavern through the roof of which the light of day broke +softly, brightened here and there by golden splashes of the sun. For a +mile Baree made his way quietly through this forest. He saw nothing but +a few winged flirtings of birds; there was almost no sound. Then he +came to a still larger pond. Around this pond there was a thick growth +of alders and willows where the larger trees had thinned out. He saw +the glimmer of afternoon sunlight on the water—and then, all at once, +he heard life. +</P> + +<P> +There had been few changes in Beaver Tooth's colony since the days of +his feud with Kazan and the otters. Old Beaver Tooth was somewhat +older. He was fatter. He slept a great deal, and perhaps he was less +cautious. He was dozing on the great mud-and-brushwood dam of which he +had been engineer-in-chief, when Baree came out softly on a high bank +thirty or forty feet away. So noiseless had Baree been that none of the +beavers had seen or heard him. He squatted himself flat on his belly, +hidden behind a tuft of grass, and with eager interest watched every +movement. Beaver Tooth was rousing himself. He stood on his short legs +for a moment; then he tilted himself up on his broad, flat tail like a +soldier at attention, and with a sudden whistle dived into the pond +with a great splash. +</P> + +<P> +In another moment it seemed to Baree that the pond was alive with +beavers. Heads and bodies appeared and disappeared, rushing this way +and that through the water in a manner that amazed and puzzled him. It +was the colony's evening frolic. Tails hit the water like flat boards. +Odd whistlings rose above the splashing—and then as suddenly as it had +begun, the play came to an end. There were probably twenty beavers, not +counting the young, and as if guided by a common signal—something +which Baree had not heard—they became so quiet that hardly a sound +could be heard in the pond. A few of them sank under the water and +disappeared entirely, but most of them Baree could watch as they drew +themselves out on shore. +</P> + +<P> +The beavers lost no time in getting at their labor, and Baree watched +and listened without so much as rustling a blade of the grass in which +he was concealed. He was trying to understand. He was striving to place +these curious and comfortable-looking creatures in his knowledge of +things. They did not alarm him; he felt no uneasiness at their number +or size. His stillness was not the quiet of discretion, but rather of a +strange and growing desire to get better acquainted with this curious +four-legged brotherhood of the pond. Already they had begun to make the +big forest less lonely for him. And then, close under him—not more +than ten feet from where he lay—he saw something that almost gave +voice to the puppyish longing for companionship that was in him. +</P> + +<P> +Down there, on a clean strip of the shore that rose out of the soft mud +of the pond, waddled fat little Umisk and three of his playmates. Umisk +was just about Baree's age, perhaps a week or two younger. But he was +fully as heavy, and almost as wide as he was long. Nature can produce +no four-footed creature that is more lovable than a baby beaver, unless +it is a baby bear; and Umisk would have taken first prize at any beaver +baby show in the world. His three companions were a bit smaller. They +came waddling from behind a low willow, making queer little chuckling +noises, their little flat tails dragging like tiny sledges behind them. +They were fat and furry, and mighty friendly looking to Baree, and his +heart beat a sudden swift-pit-a-pat of joy. +</P> + +<P> +But Baree did not move. He scarcely breathed. And then, suddenly, Umisk +turned on one of his playmates and bowled him over. Instantly the other +two were on Umisk, and the four little beavers rolled over and over, +kicking with their short feet and spatting with their tails, and all +the time emitting soft little squeaking cries. Baree knew that it was +not fight but frolic. He rose up on his feet. He forgot where he +was—forgot everything in the world but those playing, furry balls. For +the moment all the hard training nature had been giving him was lost. +He was no longer a fighter, no longer a hunter, no longer a seeker +after food. He was a puppy, and in him there rose a desire that was +greater than hunger. He wanted to go down there with Umisk and his +little chums and roll and play. He wanted to tell them, if such a thing +were possible, that he had lost his mother and his home, and that he +had been having a mighty hard time of it, and that he would like to +stay with them and their mothers and fathers if they didn't mind. +</P> + +<P> +In his throat there came the least bit of a whine. It was so low that +Umisk and his playmates did not hear it. They were tremendously busy. +</P> + +<P> +Softly Baree took his first step toward them, and then another—and at +last he stood on the narrow strip of shore within half a dozen feet of +them. His sharp little ears were pitched forward, and he was wiggling +his tail as fast as he could, and every muscle in his body was +trembling in anticipation. +</P> + +<P> +It was then that Umisk saw him, and his fat little body became suddenly +as motionless as a stone. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello!" said Baree, wiggling his whole body and talking as plainly as +a human tongue could talk. "Do you care if I play with you?" +</P> + +<P> +Umisk made no response. His three playmates now had their eyes on +Baree. They didn't make a move. They looked stunned. Four pairs of +staring, wondering eyes were fixed on the stranger. +</P> + +<P> +Baree made another effort. He groveled on his forelegs, while his tail +and hind legs continued to wiggle, and with a sniff he grabbed a bit of +stick between his teeth. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on—let me in," he urged. "I know how to play!" +</P> + +<P> +He tossed the stick in the air as if to prove what he was saying, and +gave a little yap. +</P> + +<P> +Umisk and his brothers were like dummies. +</P> + +<P> +And then, of a sudden, someone saw Baree. It was a big beaver swimming +down the pond with a sapling timber for the new dam that was under way. +Instantly he loosed his hold and faced the shore. And then, like the +report of a rifle, there came the crack of his big flat tail on the +water—the beaver's signal of danger that on a quiet night can be heard +half a mile away. +</P> + +<P> +"DANGER," it warned. "DANGER—DANGER—DANGER!" +</P> + +<P> +Scarcely had the signal gone forth when tails were cracking in all +directions—in the pond, in the hidden canals, in the thick willows and +alders. To Umisk and his companions they said: +</P> + +<P> +"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" +</P> + +<P> +Baree stood rigid and motionless now. In amazement he watched the four +little beavers plunge into the pond and disappear. He heard the sounds +of other and heavier bodies striking the water. And then there followed +a strange and disquieting silence. Softly Baree whined, and his whine +was almost a sobbing cry. Why had Umisk and his little mates run away +from him? What had he done that they didn't want to make friends with +him? A great loneliness swept over him—a loneliness greater even than +that of his first night away from his mother. The last of the sun faded +out of the sky as he stood there. Darker shadows crept over the pond. +He looked into the forest, where night was gathering—and with another +whining cry he slunk back into it. He had not found friendship. He had +not found comradeship. And his heart was very sad. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 7 +</H3> + +<P> +For two or three days Baree's excursions after food took him farther +and farther away from the pond. But each afternoon he returned to +it—until the third day, when he discovered a new creek, and Wakayoo. +The creek was fully two miles back in the forest. This was a different +sort of stream. It sang merrily over a gravelly bed and between chasm +walls of split rock. It formed deep pools and foaming eddies, and where +Baree first struck it, the air trembled with the distant thunder of a +waterfall. It was much pleasanter than the dark and silent beaver +stream. It seemed possessed of life, and the rush and tumult of it—the +song and thunder of the water—gave to Baree entirely new sensations. +He made his way along it slowly and cautiously, and it was because of +this slowness and caution that he came suddenly and unobserved upon +Wakayoo, the big black bear, hard at work fishing. +</P> + +<P> +Wakayoo stood knee-deep in a pool that had formed behind a sand bar, +and he was having tremendously good luck. Even as Baree shrank back, +his eyes popping at sight of this monster he had seen but once before, +in the gloom of night, one of Wakayoo's big paws sent a great splash of +water high in the air, and a fish landed on the pebbly shore. A little +while before, the suckers had run up the creek in thousands to spawn, +and the rapid lowering of the water had caught many of them in these +prison pools. Wakayoo's fat, sleek body was evidence of the prosperity +this circumstance had brought him. Although it was a little past the +"prime" season for bearskins, Wakayoo's coat was splendidly thick and +black. +</P> + +<P> +For a quarter of an hour Baree watched him while he knocked fish out of +the pool. When at last he stopped, there were twenty or thirty fish +among the stones, some of them dead and others still flopping. From +where he lay flattened out between two rocks, Baree could hear the +crunching of flesh and bone as the bear devoured his dinner. It sounded +good, and the fresh smell of fish filled him with a craving that had +never been roused by crayfish or even partridge. +</P> + +<P> +In spite of his fat and his size, Wakayoo was not a glutton, and after +he had eaten his fourth fish he pawed all the others together in a +pile, partly covered them by raking up sand and stones with his long +claws, and finished his work of caching by breaking down a small balsam +sapling so that the fish were entirely concealed. Then he lumbered +slowly away in the direction of the rumbling waterfall. +</P> + +<P> +Twenty seconds after the last of Wakayoo had disappeared in a turn of +the creek, Baree was under the broken balsam. He dragged out a fish +that was still alive. He ate the whole of it, and it tasted delicious. +</P> + +<P> +Baree now found that Wakayoo had solved the food problem for him, and +this day he did not return to the beaver pond, nor the next. The big +bear was incessantly fishing up and down the creek, and day after day +Baree continued his feasts. It was not difficult for him to find +Wakayoo's caches. All he had to do was to follow along the shore of the +stream, sniffing carefully. Some of the caches were getting old, and +their perfume was anything but pleasant to Baree. These he avoided—but +he never missed a meal or two out of a fresh one. +</P> + +<P> +For a week life continued to be exceedingly pleasant. And then came the +break—the change that was destined to meant for Kazan, his father, +when he killed the man-brute at the edge of the wilderness. +</P> + +<P> +This change came or the day when, in trotting around a great rock near +the waterfall, Baree found himself face to face with Pierrot the hunter +and Nepeese, the star-eyed girl who had shot him in the edge of the +clearing. +</P> + +<P> +It was Nepeese whom he saw first. If it had been Pierrot, he would have +turned back quickly. But again the blood of his forebear was rousing +strange tremblings within him. Was it like this that the first woman +had looked to Kazan? +</P> + +<P> +Baree stood still. Nepeese was not more than twenty feet from him. She +sat on a rock, full in the early morning sun, and was brushing out her +wonderful hair. Her lips parted. Her eyes shone in an instant like +stars. One hand remained poised, weighted with the jet tresses. She +recognized him. She saw the white star on his breast and the white tip +on his ear, and under her breath she whispered "Uchi moosis!"—"The dog +pup!" It was the wild dog she had shot—and thought had died! +</P> + +<P> +The evening before Pierrot and Nepeese had built a shelter of balsams +behind the big rock, and on a small white plot of sand Pierrot was +kneeling over a fire preparing breakfast while the Willow arranged her +hair. He raised his head to speak to her, and saw Baree. In that +instant the spell was broken. Baree saw the man-beast as he rose to his +feet. Like a shot he was gone. +</P> + +<P> +Scarcely swifter was he than Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +"Depechez vous, mon pere!" she cried. "It is the dog pup! Quick—" +</P> + +<P> +In the floating cloud of her hair she sped after Baree like the wind. +Pierrot followed, and in going he caught up his rifle. It was difficult +for him to catch up with the Willow. She was like a wild spirit, her +little moccasined feet scarcely touching the sand as she ran up the +long bar. It was wonderful to see the lithe swiftness of her, and that +glorious hair streaming out in the sun. Even now, in this moment's +excitement, it made Pierrot think of McTaggart, the Hudson's Bay +Company's factor over at Lac Bain, and what he had said yesterday. Half +the night Pierrot had lain awake, gritting his teeth at thought of it. +And this morning, before Baree ran upon them, he had looked at Nepeese +more closely than ever before in his life. She was beautiful. She was +lovelier even than Wyola, her princess mother, who was dead. That +hair—which made men stare as if they could not believe! Those +eyes—like pools filled with wonderful starlight! Her slimness, that +was like a flower! And McTaggart had said— +</P> + +<P> +Floating back to him there came an excited cry. +</P> + +<P> +"Hurry, Nootawe! He has turned into the blind canyon. He cannot escape +us now." +</P> + +<P> +She was panting when he came up to her. The French blood in her glowed +a vivid crimson in her cheeks and lips. Her white teeth gleamed like +pearls. +</P> + +<P> +"In there!" And she pointed. +</P> + +<P> +They went in. +</P> + +<P> +Ahead of them Baree was running for his life. He sensed instinctively +the fact that these wonderful two-legged beings he had looked upon were +all-powerful. And they were after him! He could hear them. Nepeese was +following almost as swiftly as he could run. Suddenly he turned into a +cleft between two great rocks. Twenty feet in, his way was barred, and +he ran back. When he darted out, straight up the canyon, Nepeese was +not a dozen yards behind him, and he saw Pierrot almost at her side. +The Willow gave a cry. +</P> + +<P> +"Mana—mana—there he is!" +</P> + +<P> +She caught her breath, and darted into a copse of young balsams where +Baree had disappeared. Like a great entangling web her loose hair +impeded her in the brush, and with an encouraging cry to Pierrot she +stopped to gather it over her shoulder as he ran past her. She lost +only a moment or two, and then once again was after him. Fifty yards +ahead of her Pierrot gave a warning shout. Baree had turned. Almost in +the same breath he was tearing over his back trail, directly toward the +Willow. He did not see her in time to stop or swerve aside, and Nepeese +flung herself down in his path. For an instant or two they were +together. Baree felt the smother of her hair, and the clutch of her +hands. Then he squirmed away and darted again toward the blind end of +the canyon. +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese sprang to her feet. She was panting—and laughing. Pierrot came +back wildly, and the Willow pointed beyond him. +</P> + +<P> +"I had him—and he didn't bite!" she said, breathing swiftly. She still +pointed to the end of the canyon, and she said again: "I had him—and +he didn't bite me, Nootawe!" +</P> + +<P> +That was the wonder of it. She had been reckless—and Baree had not +bitten her! It was then, with her eyes shining at Pierrot, and the +smile fading slowly from her lips, that she spoke softly the word +"Baree," which in her tongue meant "the wild dog"—a little brother of +the wolf. +</P> + +<P> +"Come," cried Pierrot, "or we will lose him!" +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot was confident. The canyon had narrowed. Baree could not get +past them unseen. Three minutes later Baree came to the blind end of +the canyon—a wall of rock that rose straight up like the curve of a +dish. Feasting on fish and long hours of sleep had fattened him, and he +was half winded as he sought vainly for an exit. He was at the far end +of the dishlike curve of rock, without a bush or a clump of grass to +hide him, when Pierrot and Nepeese saw him again. Nepeese made straight +toward him. Pierrot, foreseeing what Baree would do, hurried to the +left, at right angles to the end of the canyon. +</P> + +<P> +In and out among the rocks Baree sought swiftly for a way of escape. In +a moment more he had come to the "box," or cup of the canyon. This was +a break in the wall, fifty or sixty feet wide, which opened into a +natural prison about an acre in extent. It was a beautiful spot. On all +sides but that leading into the coulee it was shut in by walls of rock. +At the far end a waterfall broke down in a series of rippling cascades. +The grass was thick underfoot and strewn with flowers. In this trap +Pierrot had got more than one fine haunch of venison. From it there was +no escape, except in the face of his rifle. He called to Nepeese as he +saw Baree entering it, and together they climbed the slope. +</P> + +<P> +Baree had almost reached the edge of the little prison meadow when +suddenly he stopped himself so quickly that he fell back on his +haunches and his heart jumped up into his throat. +</P> + +<P> +Full in his path stood Wakayoo, the huge black bear! +</P> + +<P> +For perhaps a half-minute Baree hesitated between the two perils. He +heard the voices of Nepeese and Pierrot. He caught the rattle of stones +under their feet. And he was filled with a great dread. Then he looked +at Wakayoo. The big bear had not moved an inch. He, too, was listening. +But to him there was a thing more disturbing than the sounds he heard. +It was the scent which he caught in the air—the man scent. +</P> + +<P> +Baree, watching him, saw his head swing slowly even as the footsteps of +Nepeese and Pierrot became more and more distinct. It was the first +time Baree had ever stood face to face with the big bear. He had +watched him fish; he had fattened on Wakayoo's prowess; he had held him +in splendid awe. Now there was something about the bear that took away +his fear and gave him in its place a new and thrilling confidence. +Wakayoo, big and powerful as he was, would not run from the two-legged +creatures who pursued him! If Baree could only get past Wakayoo he was +safe! +</P> + +<P> +Baree darted to one side and ran for the open meadow. Wakayoo did not +stir as Baree sped past him—no more than if he had been a bird or a +rabbit. Then came another breath of air, heavy with the scent of man. +This, at last, put life into him. He turned and began lumbering after +Baree into the meadow trap. Baree, looking back, saw him coming—and +thought it was pursuit. Nepeese and Pierrot came over the slope, and at +the same instant they saw both Wakayoo and Baree. +</P> + +<P> +Where they entered into the grassy dip under the rock walls, Baree +turned sharply to the right. Here was a great boulder, one end of it +tilted up off the earth. It looked like a splendid hiding place, and +Baree crawled under it. +</P> + +<P> +But Wakayoo kept straight ahead into the meadow. +</P> + +<P> +From where he lay Baree could see what happened. Scarcely had he +crawled under the rock when Nepeese and Pierrot appeared through the +break in the dip, and stopped. The fact that they stopped thrilled +Baree. They were afraid of Wakayoo! The big bear was two thirds of the +way across the meadow. The sun fell on him, so that his coat shone like +black satin. Pierrot stared at him for a moment. Pierrot did not kill +for the love of killing. Necessity made him a conservationist. But he +saw that in spite of the lateness of the season, Wakayoo's coat was +splendid—and he raised his rifle. +</P> + +<P> +Baree saw this action. He saw, a moment later, something spit from the +end of the gun, and then he heard that deafening crash that had come +with his own hurt, when the Willow's bullet had burned through his +flesh. He turned his eyes swiftly to Wakayoo. The big bear had +stumbled; he was on his knees. And then he struggled to his feet and +lumbered on. +</P> + +<P> +The roar of the rifle came again, and a second time Wakayoo went down. +Pierrot could not miss at that distance. Wakayoo made a splendid mark. +It was slaughter. Yet for Pierrot and Nepeese it was business—the +business of life. +</P> + +<P> +Baree was shivering. It was more from excitement than fear, for he had +lost his own fear in the tragedy of these moments. A low whine rose in +his throat as he looked at Wakayoo, who had risen again and faced his +enemies—his jaws gaping, his head swinging slowly, his legs weakening +under him as the blood poured through his torn lungs. Baree +whined—because Wakayoo had fished for him, because he had come to look +on him as a friend, and because he knew it was death that Wakayoo was +facing now. There was a third shot—the last. Wakayoo sank down in his +tracks. His big head dropped between his forepaws. A racking cough or +two came to Baree's ears. And then there was silence. It was +slaughter—but business. +</P> + +<P> +A minute later, standing over Wakayoo, Pierrot said to Nepeese: +</P> + +<P> +"Mon dieu, but it is a fine skin, Sakahet! It is worth twenty dollars +over at Lac Bain!" +</P> + +<P> +He drew forth his knife and began whetting it on a stone which he +carried in his pocket. In these minutes Baree might have crawled out +from under his rock and escaped down the canyon; for a space he was +forgotten. Then Nepeese thought of him, and in that same strange, +wondering voice she spoke again the word "Baree." Pierrot, who was +kneeling, looked up at her. +</P> + +<P> +"Oui, Sakahet. He was born of the wild. And now he is gone—" +</P> + +<P> +The Willow shook her head. +</P> + +<P> +"Non, he is not gone," she said, and her dark eyes searched the sunlit +meadow. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 8 +</H3> + +<P> +As Nepeese gazed about the rock-walled end of the canyon, the prison +into which they had driven Wakayoo and Baree, Pierrot looked up again +from his skinning of the big black bear, and he muttered something that +no one but himself could have heard. "Non, it is not possible," he had +said a moment before; but to Nepeese it was possible—the thought that +was in her mind. It was a wonderful thought. It thrilled her to the +depth of her wild, young soul. It sent a glow into her eyes and a +deeper flush of excitement into her cheeks and lips. +</P> + +<P> +As she searched the ragged edges of the little meadow for signs of the +dog pup, her thoughts flashed back swiftly. Two years ago they had +buried her princess mother under the tall spruce near their cabin. That +day Pierrot's sun had set for all time, and her own life became filled +with a vast loneliness. There had been three at the graveside that +afternoon as the sun went down—Pierrot, herself, and a dog, a great, +powerful husky with a white star on his breast and a white-tipped ear. +He had been her dead mother's pet from puppyhood—her bodyguard, with +her always, even with his head resting on the side of her bed as she +died. And that night, the night of the day they buried her, the dog had +disappeared. He had gone as quietly and as completely as her spirit. No +one ever saw him after that. It was strange, and to Pierrot it was a +miracle. Deep in his heart he was filled with the wonderful conviction +that the dog had gone with his beloved Wyola into heaven. +</P> + +<P> +But Nepeese had spent three winters at the missioner's school at Nelson +House. She had learned a great deal about white people and the real +God, and she knew that Pierrot's idea was impossible. She believed that +her mother's husky was either dead or had joined the wolves. Probably +he had gone to the wolves. So—was it not possible that this youngster +she and her father had pursued was of the flesh and blood of her +mother's pet? It was more than possible. The white star on his breast, +the white-tipped ear—the fact that he had not bitten her when he might +easily have buried his fangs in the soft flesh of her arms! She was +convinced. While Pierrot skinned the bear, she began hunting for Baree. +</P> + +<P> +Baree had not moved an inch from under his rock. He lay like a thing +stunned, his eyes fixed steadily on the scene of the tragedy out in the +meadow. He had seen something that he would never forget—even as he +would never quite forget his mother and Kazan and the old windfall. He +had witnessed the death of the creature he had thought all-powerful. +Wakayoo, the big bear, had not even put up a fight. Pierrot and Nepeese +had killed him WITHOUT TOUCHING HIM. Now Pierrot was cutting him with a +knife which shot silvery flashes in the sun; and Wakayoo made no +movement. It made Baree shiver, and he drew himself an inch farther +back under the rock, where he was already wedged as if he had been +shoved there by a strong hand. +</P> + +<P> +He could see Nepeese. She came straight back to the break through which +his flight had taken him, and stood at last not more than twenty feet +from where he was hidden. Now that she stood where he could not escape, +she began weaving her shining hair into two thick braids. Baree had +taken his eyes from Pierrot, and he watched her curiously. He was not +afraid now. His nerves tingled. In him a strange and growing force was +struggling to solve a great mystery—the reason for his desire to creep +out from under his rock and approach that wonderful creature with the +shining eyes and the beautiful hair. +</P> + +<P> +Baree wanted to approach. It was like an invisible string tugging at +his very heart. It was Kazan, and not Gray Wolf, calling to him back +through the centuries, a "call" that was as old as the Egyptian +pyramids and perhaps ten thousand years older. But against that desire +Gray Wolf was pulling from out the black ages of the forests. The wolf +held him quiet and motionless. Nepeese was looking about her. She was +smiling. For a moment her face was turned toward him, and he saw the +white shine of her teeth, and her beautiful eyes seemed glowing +straight at him. +</P> + +<P> +And then, suddenly, she dropped on her knees and peered under the rock. +</P> + +<P> +Their eyes met. For at least half a minute there was not a sound. +Nepeese did not move, and her breath came so softly that Baree could +not hear it. +</P> + +<P> +Then she said, almost in a whisper: +</P> + +<P> +"Baree! Baree! Upi Baree!" +</P> + +<P> +It was the first time Baree had heard his name, and there was something +so soft and assuring in the sound of it that in spite of himself the +dog in him responded to it in a whimper that just reached the Willow's +ears. Slowly she stretched in an arm. It was bare and round and soft. +He might have darted forward the length of his body and buried his +fangs in it easily. But something held him back. He knew that it was +not an enemy. He knew that the dark eyes shining at him so wonderfully +were not filled with the desire to harm—and the voice that came to him +softly was like a strange and thrilling music. +</P> + +<P> +"Baree! Baree! Upi Baree!" +</P> + +<P> +Over and over again the Willow called to him like that, while on her +face she tried to draw herself a few inches farther under the rock. She +could not reach him. There was still a foot between her hand and Baree, +and she could not wedge herself forward an inch more. And then she saw +where on the other side of the rock there was a hollow, shut in by a +stone. If she had removed the stone, and come in that way— +</P> + +<P> +She drew herself out and stood once more in the sunshine. Her heart +thrilled. Pierrot was busy over his bear—and she would not call him. +She made an effort to move the stone which closed in the hollow under +the big boulder, but it was wedged in tightly. Then she began digging +with a stick. If Pierrot had been there, his sharp eyes would have +discovered the significance of that stone, which was not larger than a +water pail. Possibly for centuries it had lain there, its support +keeping the huge rock from toppling down, just as an ounce weight may +swing the balance of a wheel that weighs a ton. +</P> + +<P> +Five minutes—and Nepeese could move the stone. She tugged at it. Inch +by inch she dragged it out until at last it lay at her feet and the +opening was ready for her body. She looked again toward Pierrot. He was +still busy, and she laughed softly as she untied a big red-and-white +Bay handkerchief from about her shoulders. With this she would secure +Baree. She dropped on her hands and knees and then lowered herself flat +on the ground and began crawling into the hollow under the boulder. +</P> + +<P> +Baree had moved. With the back of his head flattened against the rock, +he had heard something which Nepeese had not heard. He had felt a slow +and growing pressure, and from this pressure he had dragged himself +slowly—and the pressure still followed. The mass of rock was settling! +Nepeese did not see or hear or understand. She was calling to him more +and more pleadingly: +</P> + +<P> +"Baree—Baree—Baree—" +</P> + +<P> +Her head and shoulders and both arms were under the rock now. The glow +of her eyes was very close to Baree. He whined. The thrill of a great +and impending danger stirred in his blood. And then— +</P> + +<P> +In that moment Nepeese felt the pressure of the rock on her shoulder, +and into the eyes that had been glowing softly at Baree there shot a +sudden wild look of horror. And then there came from her lips a cry +that was not like any other sound Baree had ever heard in the +wilderness—wild, piercing, filled with agonized fear. Pierrot did not +hear that first cry. But he heard the second and the third—and then +scream after scream as the Willow's tender body was slowly crushed +under the settling mass. He ran toward it with the speed of the wind. +The cries were now weaker—dying away. He saw Baree as he came out from +under the rock and ran into the canyon, and in the same instant he saw +a part of the Willow's dress and her moccasined feet. The rest of her +was hidden under the deathtrap. Like a madman Pierrot began digging. +</P> + +<P> +When a few moments later he drew Nepeese out from under the boulder she +was white and deathly still. Her eyes were closed. His hand could not +feel that she was living, and a great moan of anguish rose out of his +soul. But he knew how to fight for a life. He tore open her dress and +found that she was not crushed as he had feared. Then he ran for water. +When he returned, the Willow's eyes were open and she was gasping for +breath. +</P> + +<P> +"The blessed saints be praised!" sobbed Pierrot, falling on his knees +at her side. "Nepeese, ma Nepeese!" +</P> + +<P> +She smiled at him, and Pierrot drew her up to him, forgetting the water +he had run so hard to get. +</P> + +<P> +Still later, when he got down on his knees and peered under the rock, +his face turned white and he said: +</P> + +<P> +"Mon Dieu, if it had not been for that little hollow in the earth, +Nepeese—" +</P> + +<P> +He shuddered, and said no more. But Nepeese, happy in her salvation, +made a movement with her hand and said, smiling at him: +</P> + +<P> +"I would have been like—THAT." And she held her thumb and forefinger +close together. +</P> + +<P> +"But where did Baree go, mon pere?" Nepeese cried. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 9 +</H3> + +<P> +Impelled by the wild alarm of the Willow's terrible cries and the sight +of Pierrot dashing madly toward him from the dead body of Wakayoo, +Baree did not stop running until it seemed as though his lungs could +not draw another breath. When he stopped, he was well out of the canyon +and headed for the beaver pond. For almost a week Baree had not been +near the pond. He had not forgotten Beaver Tooth and Umisk and the +other little beavers, but Wakayoo and his daily catch of fresh fish had +been too big a temptation for him. Now Wakayoo was gone. He sensed the +fact that the big black bear would never fish again in the quiet pools +and shimmering eddies, and that where for many days there had been +peace and plenty, there was now great danger. And just as in another +country he would have fled for safety to the old windfall, he now fled +desperately for the beaver pond. +</P> + +<P> +Exactly wherein lay Baree's fears it would be difficult to say—but +surely it was not because of Nepeese. The Willow had chased him hard. +She had flung herself upon him. He had felt the clutch of her hands and +the smother of her soft hair, and yet of her he was not afraid! If he +stopped now and then in his flight and looked back, it was to see if +Nepeese was following. He would not have run hard from her—alone. Her +eyes and voice and hands had set something stirring in him; he was +filled with a greater yearning and a greater loneliness now. And that +night he dreamed troubled dreams. +</P> + +<P> +He found himself a bed under a spruce root not far from the beaver +pond, and all through the night his sleep was filled with that restless +dreaming—dreams of his mother, of Kazan, the old windfall, of +Umlsk—and of Nepeese. Once, when he awoke, he thought the spruce root +was Gray Wolf; and when he found that she was not there, Pierrot and +the Willow could have told what his crying meant if they had heard it. +Again and again he had visions of the thrilling happenings of that day. +He saw the flight of Wakayoo over the little meadow—he saw him die +again. He saw the glow of the Willow's eyes close to his own, heard her +voice—so sweet and low that it seemed like strange music to him—and +again he heard her terrible screams. +</P> + +<P> +Baree was glad when the dawn came. He did not seek for food, but went +down to the pond. There was little hope and anticipation in his manner +now. He remembered that, as plainly as animal ways could talk, Umisk +and his playmates had told him they wanted nothing to do with him. And +yet the fact that they were there took away some of his loneliness. It +was more than loneliness. The wolf in him was submerged. The dog was +master. And in these passing moments, when the blood of the wild was +almost dormant in him, he was depressed by the instinctive and growing +feeling that he was not of that wild, but a fugitive in it, menaced on +all sides by strange dangers. +</P> + +<P> +Deep in the northern forests the beaver does not work and play in +darkness only, but uses day even more than night, and many of Beaver +Tooth's people were awake when Baree began disconsolately to +investigate the shores of the pond. The little beavers were still with +their mothers in the big houses that looked like great domes of sticks +and mud out in the middle of the lake. There were three of these +houses, one of them at least twenty feet in diameter. Baree had some +difficulty in following his side of the pond. When he got back among +the willows and alders and birch, dozens of little canals crossed and +crisscrossed in his path. Some of these canals were a foot wide, and +others three or four feet, and all were filled with water. No country +in the world ever had a better system of traffic than this domain of +the beavers, down which they brought their working materials and food +into the main reservoir—the pond. +</P> + +<P> +In one of the larger canals Baree surprised a big beaver towing a +four-foot cutting of birch as thick through as a man's leg—half a +dozen breakfasts and dinners and suppers in that one cargo. The four or +five inner barks of the birch are what might be called the bread and +butter and potatoes of the beaver menu, while the more highly prized +barks of the willow and young alder take the place of meat and pie. +Baree smelled curiously of the birch cutting after the old beaver had +abandoned it in flight, and then went on. He did not try to conceal +himself now, and at least half a dozen beavers had a good look at him +before he came to the point where the pond narrowed down to the width +of the stream, almost half a mile from the dam. Then he wandered back. +All that morning he hovered about the pond, showing himself openly. +</P> + +<P> +In their big mud-and-stick strongholds the beavers held a council of +war. They were distinctly puzzled. There were four enemies which they +dreaded above all others: the otter, who destroyed their dams in the +wintertime and brought death to them from cold and by lowering the +water so they could not get to their food supplies; the lynx, who +preyed on them all, young and old alike; and the fox and wolf, who +would lie in ambush for hours in order to pounce on the very young, +like Umisk and his playmates. If Baree had been any one of these four, +wily Beaver Tooth and his people would have known what to do. But Baree +was surely not an otter, and if he was a fox or a wolf or a lynx, his +actions were very strange, to say the least. Half a dozen times he had +had the opportunity to pounce on his prey, if he had been seeking prey. +But at no time had he shown the least desire to harm them. +</P> + +<P> +It may be that the beavers discussed the matter fully among themselves. +It is possible that Umisk and his playmates told their parents of their +adventure, and of how Baree had made no move to harm them when he could +quite easily have caught them. It is also more than likely that the +older beavers who had fled from Baree that morning gave an account of +their adventures, again emphasizing the fact that the stranger, while +frightening them, had shown no disposition to attack them. All this is +quite possible, for if beavers can make a large part of a continent's +history, and can perform engineering feats that nothing less than +dynamite can destroy, it is only reasonable to suppose that they have +some way of making one another understand. +</P> + +<P> +However this may be, courageous old Beaver Tooth took it upon himself +to end the suspense. +</P> + +<P> +It was early in the afternoon that for the third or fourth time Baree +walked out on the dam. This dam was fully two hundred feet in length, +but at no point did the water run over it, the overflow finding its way +through narrow sluices. A week or two ago Baree could have crossed to +the opposite side of the pond on this dam, but now—at the far +end—Beaver Tooth and his engineers were adding a new section of dam, +and in order to accomplish their work more easily, they had flooded +fully fifty yards of the low ground on which they were working. +</P> + +<P> +The main dam held a strange fascination for Baree. It was strong with +the smell of beaver. The top of it was high and dry, and there were +dozens of smoothly worn little hollows in which the beavers had taken +their sun baths. In one of these hollows Baree stretched himself out, +with his eyes on the pond. Not a ripple stirred its velvety smoothness. +Not a sound broke the drowsy stillness of the afternoon. The beavers +might have been dead or asleep, for all the stir they made. And yet +they knew that Baree was on the dam. Where he lay, the sun fell in a +warm flood, and it was so comfortable that after a time he had +difficulty in keeping his eyes open to watch the pond. Then he fell +asleep. +</P> + +<P> +Just how Beaver Tooth sensed this fact is a mystery. Five minutes later +he came up quietly, without a splash or a sound, within fifty yards of +Baree. For a few moments he scarcely moved in the water. Then he swam +very slowly parallel with the dam across the pond. At the other side he +drew himself ashore, and for another minute sat as motionless as a +stone, with his eyes on that part of the dam where Baree was lying. Not +another beaver was moving, and it was very soon apparent that Beaver +Tooth had but one object in mind—getting a closer observation of +Baree. When he entered the water again, he swam along close to the dam. +Ten feet beyond Baree he began to climb out. He did this with great +slowness and caution. At last he reached the top of the dam. +</P> + +<P> +A few yards away Baree was almost hidden in his hollow, only the top of +his shiny black body appearing to Beaver Tooth's scrutiny. To get a +better look, the old beaver spread his flat tail out beyond him and +rose to a sitting posture on his hindquarters, his two front paws held +squirrel-like over his breast. In this pose he was fully three feet +tall. He probably weighed forty pounds, and in some ways he resembled +one of those fat, good-natured, silly-looking dogs that go largely to +stomach. But his brain was working with amazing celerity. Suddenly he +gave the hard mud of the dam a single slap with his tail—and Baree sat +up. Instantly he saw Beaver Tooth, and stared. Beaver Tooth stared. For +a full half-minute neither moved the thousandth part of an inch. Then +Baree stood up and wagged his tail. +</P> + +<P> +That was enough. Dropping to his forefeet. Beaver Tooth waddled +leisurely to the edge of the dam and dived over. He was neither +cautious nor in very great haste now. He made a great commotion in the +water and swam boldly back and forth under Baree. When he had done this +several times, he cut straight up the pond to the largest of the three +houses and disappeared. Five minutes after Beaver Tooth's exploit word +was passing quickly among the colony. The stranger—Baree—was not a +lynx. He was not a fox. He was not a wolf. Moreover, he was very +young—and harmless. Work could be resumed. Play could be resumed. +There was no danger. Such was Beaver Tooth's verdict. +</P> + +<P> +If someone had shouted these facts in beaver language through a +megaphone, the response could not have been quicker. All at once it +seemed to Baree, who was still standing on the edge of the dam, that +the pond was alive with beavers. He had never seen so many at one time +before. They were popping up everywhere, and some of them swam up +within a dozen feet of him and looked him over in a leisurely and +curious way. For perhaps five minutes the beavers seemed to have no +particular object in view. Then Beaver Tooth himself struck straight +for the shore and climbed out. Others followed him. Half a dozen +workers disappeared in the canals. As many more waddled out among the +alders and willows. Eagerly Baree watched for Umisk and his chums. At +last he saw them, swimming forth from one of the smaller houses. They +climbed out on their playground—the smooth bar above the shore of mud. +Baree wagged his tail so hard that his whole body shook, and hurried +along the dam. +</P> + +<P> +When he came out on the level strip of shore, Umisk was there alone, +nibbling his supper from a long, freshly cut willow. The other little +beavers had gone into a thick clump of young alders. +</P> + +<P> +This time Umisk did not run. He looked up from his stick. Baree +squatted himself, wiggling in a most friendly and ingratiating manner. +For a few seconds Umisk regarded him. +</P> + +<P> +Then, very coolly, he resumed his supper. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 10 +</H3> + +<P> +Just as in the life of every man there is one big, controlling +influence, either for good or bad, so in the life of Baree the beaver +pond was largely an arbiter of destiny. Where he might have gone if he +had not discovered it, and what might have happened to him, are matters +of conjecture. But it held him. It began to take the place of the old +windfall, and in the beavers themselves he found a companionship which +made up, in a way, for his loss of the protection and friendship of +Kazan and Gray Wolf. +</P> + +<P> +This companionship, if it could be called that, went just so far and no +farther. With each day that passed the older beavers became more +accustomed to seeing Baree. At the end of two weeks, if Baree had gone +away, they would have missed him—but not in the same way that Baree +would have missed the beavers. It was a matter of good-natured +toleration on their part. With Baree it was different. He was still +uskahis, as Nepeese would have said. He still wanted mothering; he was +still moved by the puppyish yearnings which he had not yet had the time +to outgrow; and when night came—to speak that yearning quite +plainly—he had the desire to go into the big beaver house with Umisk +and his chums and sleep. +</P> + +<P> +During this fortnight that followed Beaver Tooth's exploit on the dam +Baree ate his meals a mile up the creek, where there were plenty of +crayfish. But the pond was home. Night always found him there, and a +large part of his day. He slept at the end of the dam, or on top of it +on particularly clear nights, and the beavers accepted him as a +permanent guest. They worked in his presence as if he did not exist. +</P> + +<P> +Baree was fascinated by this work, and he never grew tired of watching +it. It puzzled and bewildered him. Day after day he saw them float +timber and brush through the water for the new dam. He saw this dam +growing steadily under their efforts. One day he lay within a dozen +feet of an old beaver who was cutting down a tree six inches through. +When the tree fell, and the old beaver scurried away, Baree scurried, +too. Then he came back and smelled of the cutting, wondering what it +was all about, and why Umisk's uncle or grandfather or aunt had gone to +all that trouble. +</P> + +<P> +He still could not induce Umisk and the other young beavers to join him +in play, and after the first week or so he gave up his efforts. In +fact, their play puzzled him almost as much as the dam-building +operations of the older beavers. Umisk, for instance, was fond of +playing in the mud at the edge of the pond. He was like a very small +boy. Where his elders floated timbers from three inches to a foot in +diameter to the big dam, Umisk brought small sticks and twigs no larger +around than a lead pencil to his playground, and built a make-believe +dam of his own. +</P> + +<P> +Umisk would work an hour at a time on this play dam as industriously as +his father and mother were working on the big dam, and Baree would lie +flat on his belly a few feet away, watching him and wondering mightily. +And through this half-dry mud Umisk would also dig his miniature +canals, just as a small boy might have dug his Mississippi River and +pirate-infested oceans in the outflow of some back-lot spring. With his +sharp little teeth he cut down his big timber—willow sprouts never +more than an inch in diameter; and when one of these four or five-foot +sprouts toppled down, he undoubtedly felt as great a satisfaction as +Beaver Tooth felt when he sent a seventy-foot birch crashing into the +edge of the pond. Baree could not understand the fun of all this. He +could see some reason for nibbling at sticks—he liked to sharpen his +teeth on sticks himself; but it puzzled him to explain why Umisk so +painstakingly stripped the bark from the sticks and swallowed it. +</P> + +<P> +Another method of play still further discouraged Baree's advances. A +short distance from the spot where he had first seen Umisk there was a +shelving bank that rose ten or twelve feet from the water, and this +bank was used by the young beavers as a slide. It was worn smooth and +hard. Umisk would climb up the bank at a point where it was not so +steep. At the top of the slide he would put his tail out flat behind +him and give himself a shove, shooting down the toboggan and landing in +the water with a big splash. At times there were from six to ten young +beavers engaged in this sport, and now and then one of the older +beavers would waddle to the top of the slide and take a turn with the +youngsters. +</P> + +<P> +One afternoon, when the toboggan was particularly wet and slippery from +recent use, Baree went up the beaver path to the top of the bank, and +began investigating. Nowhere had he found the beaver smell so strong as +on the slide. He began sniffing and incautiously went too far. In an +instant his feet shot out from under him, and with a single wild yelp +he went shooting down the toboggan. For the second time in his life he +found himself struggling under water, and when a minute or two later he +dragged himself up through the soft mud to the firmer footing of the +shore, he had at last a very well-defined opinion of beaver play. +</P> + +<P> +It may be that Umisk saw him. It may be that very soon the story of his +adventure was known by all the inhabitants of Beaver Town. For when +Baree came upon Umisk eating his supper of alder bark that evening, +Umisk stood his ground to the last inch, and for the first time they +smelled noses. At least Baree sniffed audibly, and plucky little Umisk +sat like a rolled-up sphinx. That was the final cementing of their +friendship—on Baree's part. He capered about extravagantly for a few +moments, telling Umisk how much he liked him, and that they'd be great +chums. Umisk didn't talk. He didn't make a move until he resumed his +supper. But he was a companionable-looking little fellow, for all that, +and Baree was happier than he had been since the day he left the old +windfall. +</P> + +<P> +This friendship, even though it outwardly appeared to be quite +one-sided, was decidedly fortunate for Umisk. When Baree was at the +pond, he always kept as near to Umisk as possible, when he could find +him. One day he was lying in a patch of grass, half asleep, while Umisk +busied himself in a clump of alder shoots a few yards away. It was the +warning crack of a beaver tail that fully roused Baree; and then +another and another, like pistol shots. He jumped up. Everywhere +beavers were scurrying for the pond. +</P> + +<P> +Just then Umisk came out of the alders and hurried as fast as his +short, fat legs would carry him toward the water. He had almost reached +the mud when a lightning flash of red passed before Baree's eyes in the +afternoon sun, and in another instant Napakasew—the he-fox—had +fastened his sharp fangs in Umisk's throat. Baree heard his little +friend's agonized cry; he heard the frenzied flap-flap-flap of many +tails—and his blood pounded suddenly with the thrill of excitement and +rage. +</P> + +<P> +As swiftly as the red fox himself, Baree darted to the rescue. He was +as big and as heavy as the fox, and when he struck Napakasew, it was +with a ferocious snarl that Pierrot might have heard on the farther +side of the pond, and his teeth sank like knives into the shoulder of +Umisk's assailant. The fox was of a breed of forest highwaymen which +kills from behind. He was not a fighter when it came fang-to-fang, +unless cornered—and so fierce and sudden was Baree's assault that +Napakasew took to flight almost as quickly as he had begun his attack +on Umisk. +</P> + +<P> +Baree did not follow him, but went to Umisk, who lay half in the mud, +whimpering and snuffling in a curious sort of way. Gently Baree nosed +him, and after a moment or two Umisk got up on his webbed feet, while +fully twenty or thirty beavers were making a tremendous fuss in the +water near the shore. +</P> + +<P> +After this the beaver pond seemed more than ever like home to Baree. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap11"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 11 +</H3> + +<P> +While lovely Nepeese was still shuddering over her thrilling experience +under the rock—while Pierrot still offered grateful thanks in his +prayers for her deliverance and Baree was becoming more and more a +fixture at the beaver pond—Bush McTaggart was perfecting a little +scheme of his own up at Post Lac Bain, about forty miles north and +west. McTaggart had been factor at Lac Bain for seven years. In the +company's books down in Winnipeg he was counted a remarkably successful +man. The expense of his post was below the average, and his semiannual +report of furs always ranked among the first. After his name, kept on +file in the main office, was one notation which said: "Gets more out of +a dollar than any other man north of God's Lake." +</P> + +<P> +The Indians knew why this was so. They called him Napao Wetikoo—the +man-devil. This was under their breath—a name whispered sinisterly in +the glow of tepee fires, or spoken softly where not even the winds +might carry it to the ears of Bush McTaggart. They feared him; they +hated him. They died of starvation and sickness, and the tighter Bush +McTaggart clenched the fingers of his iron rule, the more meekly, it +seemed to him, did they respond to his mastery. His was a small soul, +hidden in the hulk of a brute, which rejoiced in power. And here—with +the raw wilderness on four sides of him—his power knew no end. The big +company was behind him. It had made him king of a domain in which there +was little law except his own. And in return he gave back to the +company bales and bundles of furs beyond their expectation. It was not +for them to have suspicions. They were a thousand or more miles +away—and dollars were what counted. +</P> + +<P> +Gregson might have told. Gregson was the investigating agent of that +district, who visited McTaggart once each year. He might have reported +that the Indians called McTaggart Napao Wetikoo because he gave them +only half price for their furs. He might have told the company quite +plainly that he kept the people of the trap lines at the edge of +starvation through every month of the winter, that he had them on their +knees with his hands at their throats—putting the truth in a mild and +pretty way—and that he always had a woman or a girl, Indian or +half-breed, living with him at the Post. But Gregson enjoyed his visits +too much at Lac Bain. Always he could count on two weeks of coarse +pleasures. And in addition to that, his own womenfolk at home wore a +rich treasure of fur that came to them from McTaggart. +</P> + +<P> +One evening, a week after the adventure of Nepeese and Baree under the +rock, McTaggart sat under the glow of an oil lamp in his "store." He +had sent his little pippin-faced English clerk to bed, and he was +alone. For six weeks there had been in him a great unrest. It was just +six weeks ago that Pierrot had brought Nepeese on her first visit to +Lac Bain since McTaggart had been factor there. She had taken his +breath away. Since then he had been able to think of nothing but her. +Twice in that six weeks he had gone down to Pierrot's cabin. Tomorrow +he was going again. Marie, the slim Cree girl over in his cabin, he had +forgotten—just as a dozen others before Marie had slipped out of his +memory. It was Nepeese now. He had never seen anything quite so +beautiful as Pierrot's girl. +</P> + +<P> +Audibly he cursed Pierrot as he looked at a sheet of paper under his +hand, on which for an hour or more he had been making notes out of worn +and dusty company ledgers. It was Pierrot who stood in his way. +Pierrot's father, according to those notes, had been a full-blooded +Frenchman. Therefore Pierrot was half French, and Nepeese was quarter +French—though she was so beautiful he could have sworn there was not +more than a drop or two of Indian blood in her veins. If they had been +all Indian—Chipewyan, Cree, Ojibway, Dog Rib—anything—there would +have been no trouble at all in the matter. He would have bent them to +his power, and Nepeese would have come to his cabin, as Marie had come +six months ago. But there was the accursed French of it! Pierrot and +Nepeese were different. And yet— +</P> + +<P> +He smiled grimly, and his hands clenched tighter. After all, was not +his power sufficient? Would even Pierrot dare stand up against that? If +Pierrot objected, he would drive him from the country—from the +trapping regions that had come down to him as heritage from father and +grandfather, and even before their day. He would make of Pierrot a +wanderer and an outcast, as he had made wanderers and outcasts of a +score of others who had lost his favor. No other Post would sell to or +buy from Pierrot if Le Bete—the black cross—was put after his name. +That was his power—a law of the factors that had come down through the +centuries. It was a tremendous power for evil. It had brought him +Marie, the slim, dark-eyed Cree girl, who hated him—and who in spite +of her hatred "kept house for him." +</P> + +<P> +That was the polite way of explaining her presence if explanations were +ever necessary. McTaggart looked again at the notes he had made on the +sheet of paper. Pierrot's trapping country, his own property according +to the common law of the wilderness, was very valuable. During the last +seven years he had received an average of a thousand dollars a year for +his furs, for McTaggart had been unable to cheat Pierrot quite as +completely as he had cheated the Indians. A thousand dollars a year! +Pierrot would think twice before he gave that up. McTaggart chuckled as +he crumpled the paper in his hand and prepared to put out the light. +Under his close-cropped beard his reddish face blazed with the fire +that was in his blood. It was an unpleasant face—like iron, merciless, +filled with the look that gave him his name of Napao Wetikoo. His eyes +gleamed, and he drew a quick breath as he put out the light. +</P> + +<P> +He chuckled again as he made his way through the darkness to the door. +Nepeese as good as belonged to him. He, would have her if it +cost—PIERROT'S LIFE. And—WHY NOT? It was all so easy. A shot on a +lonely trap line, a single knife thrust—and who would know? Who would +guess where Pierrot had gone? And it would all be Pierrot's fault. For +the last time he had seen Pierrot, he had made an honest proposition: +he would marry Nepeese. Yes, even that. He had told Pierrot so. He had +told Pierrot that when the latter was his father-in-law, he would pay +him double price for furs. +</P> + +<P> +And Pierrot had stared—had stared with that strange, stunned look in +his face, like a man dazed by a blow from a club. And so if he did not +get Nepeese without trouble it would all be Pierrot's fault. Tomorrow +McTaggart would start again for the half-breed's country. And the next +day Pierrot would have an answer for him. Bush McTaggart chuckled again +as he went to bed. +</P> + +<P> +Until the next to the last day Pierrot said nothing to Nepeese about +what had passed between him and the factor at Lac Bain. Then he told +her. +</P> + +<P> +"He is a beast—a man-devil," he said, when he had finished. "I would +rather see you out there—with her—dead." And he pointed to the tall +spruce under which the princess mother lay. +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese had not uttered a sound. But her eyes had grown bigger and +darker, and there was a flush in her cheeks which Pierrot had never +seen there before. She stood up when he had finished, and she seemed +taller to him. Never had she looked quite so much like a woman, and +Pierrot's eyes were deep-shadowed with fear and uneasiness as he +watched her while she gazed off into the northwest—toward Lac Bain. +</P> + +<P> +She was wonderful, this slip of a girl-woman. Her beauty troubled him. +He had seen the look in Bush McTaggart's eyes. He had heard the thrill +in McTaggart's voice. He had caught the desire of a beast in +McTaggart's face. It had frightened him at first. But now—he was not +frightened. He was uneasy, but his hands were clenched. In his heart +there was a smoldering fire. At last Nepeese turned and came and sat +down beside him again, at his feet. +</P> + +<P> +"He is coming tomorrow, ma cherie," he said. "What shall I tell him?" +</P> + +<P> +The Willow's lips were red. Her eyes shone. But she did not look up at +her father. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, Nootawe—except that you are to say to him that I am the one +to whom he must come—for what he seeks." +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot bent over and caught her smiling. The sun went down. His heart +sank with it, like cold lead. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +From Lac Bain to Pierrot's cabin the trail cut within half a mile of +the beaver pond, a dozen miles from where Pierrot lived. And it was +here, on a twist of the creek in which Wakayoo had caught fish for +Baree, that Bush McTaggart made his camp for the night. Only twenty +miles of the journey could be made by canoe, and as McTaggart was +traveling the last stretch afoot, his camp was a simple affair—a few +cut balsams, a light blanket, a small fire. Before he prepared his +supper, the factor drew a number of copper wire snares from his small +pack and spent half an hour in setting them in rabbit runways. This +method of securing meat was far less arduous than carrying a gun in hot +weather, and it was certain. Half a dozen snares were good for at least +three rabbits, and one of these three was sure to be young and tender +enough for the frying pan. After he had placed his snares McTaggart set +a skillet of bacon over the coals and boiled his coffee. +</P> + +<P> +Of all the odors of a camp, the smell of bacon reaches farthest in the +forest. It needs no wind. It drifts on its own wings. On a still night +a fox will sniff it a mile away—twice that far if the air is moving in +the right direction. It was this smell of bacon that came to Baree +where he lay in his hollow on top of the beaver dam. +</P> + +<P> +Since his experience in the canyon and the death of Wakayoo, he had not +fared particularly well. Caution had kept him near the pond, and he had +lived almost entirely on crayfish. This new aroma that came with the +night wind roused his hunger. But it was elusive: now he could smell +it—the next instant it was gone. He left the dam and began questing +for the source of it in the forest, until after a time he lost it +altogether. McTaggart had finished frying his bacon and was eating it. +</P> + +<P> +It was a splendid night that followed. Perhaps Baree would have slept +through it in his nest on the top of the dam if the bacon smell had not +stirred the new hunger in him. Since his adventure in the canyon, the +deeper forest had held a dread for him, especially at night. But this +night was like a pale, golden day. It was moonless; but the stars shone +like a billion distant lamps, flooding the world in a soft and billowy +sea of light. A gentle whisper of wind made pleasant sounds in the +treetops. Beyond that it was very quiet, for it was Puskowepesim—the +Molting Moon—and the wolves were not hunting, the owls had lost their +voice, the foxes slunk with the silence of shadows, and even the +beavers had begun to cease their labors. The horns of the moose, the +deer, and the caribou were in tender velvet, and they moved but little +and fought not at all. It was late July, Molting Moon of the Cree, Moon +of Silence for the Chipewyan. +</P> + +<P> +In this silence Baree began to hunt. He stirred up a family of +half-grown partridges, but they escaped him. He pursued a rabbit that +was swifter than he. For an hour he had no luck. Then he heard a sound +that made every drop of blood in him thrill. He was close to +McTaggart's camp, and what he had heard was a rabbit in one of +McTaggart's snares. He came out into a little starlit open and there he +saw the rabbit going through a most marvelous pantomime. It amazed him +for a moment, and he stopped in his tracks. +</P> + +<P> +Wapoos, the rabbit, had run his furry head into the snare, and his +first frightened jump had "shot" the sapling to which the copper wire +was attached so that he was now hung half in mid-air, with only his +hind feet touching the ground. And there he was dancing madly while the +noose about his neck slowly choked him to death. +</P> + +<P> +Baree gave a sort of gasp. He could understand nothing of the part that +the wire and the sapling were playing in this curious game. All he +could see was that Wapoos was hopping and dancing about on his hind +legs in a most puzzling and unrabbitlike fashion. It may be that he +thought it some sort of play. In this instance, however, he did not +regard Wapoos as he had looked on Umisk the beaver. He knew that Wapoos +made mighty fine eating, and after another moment or two of hesitation +he darted upon his prey. +</P> + +<P> +Wapoos, half gone already, made almost no struggle, and in the glow of +the stars Baree finished him, and for half an hour afterward he feasted. +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart had heard no sound, for the snare into which Wapoos had run +his head was the one set farthest from his camp. Beside the smoldering +coals of his fire he sat with his back to a tree, smoking his black +pipe and dreaming covetously of Nepeese, while Baree continued his +night wandering. Baree no longer had the desire to hunt. He was too +full. But he nosed in and out of the starlit spaces, enjoying immensely +the stillness and the golden glow of the night. He was following a +rabbit-run when he came to a place where two fallen logs left a trail +no wider than his body. He squeezed through; something tightened about +his neck. There was a sudden snap—a swish as the sapling was released +from its "trigger"—and Baree was jerked off his feet so suddenly that +he had no time to conjecture as to what was happening. +</P> + +<P> +The yelp in his throat died in a gurgle, and the next moment he was +going through the pantomimic actions of Wapoos, who was having his +vengeance inside him. For the life of him Baree could not keep from +dancing about, while the wire grew tighter and tighter about his neck. +When he snapped at the wire and flung the weight of his body to the +ground, the sapling would bend obligingly, and then—in its +rebound—would yank him for an instant completely off the earth. +Furiously he struggled. It was a miracle that the fine wire held him. +In a few moments more it must have broken—but McTaggart had heard him! +The factor caught up his blanket and a heavy stick as he hurried toward +the snare. It was not a rabbit making those sounds—he knew that. +Perhaps a fishercat—a lynx, a fox, a young wolf— +</P> + +<P> +It was the wolf he thought of first when he saw Baree at the end of the +wire. He dropped the blanket and raised the club. If there had been +clouds overhead, or the stars had been less brilliant, Baree would have +died as surely as Wapoos had died. With the club raised over his head +McTaggart saw in time the white star, the white-tipped ear, and the jet +black of Baree's coat. +</P> + +<P> +With a swift movement he exchanged the club for the blanket. +</P> + +<P> +In that hour, could McTaggart have looked ahead to the days that were +to come, he would have used the club. Could he have foreseen the great +tragedy in which Baree was to play a vital part, wrecking his hopes and +destroying his world, he would have beaten him to a pulp there under +the light of the stars. And Baree, could he have foreseen what was to +happen between this brute with a white skin and the most beautiful +thing in the forests, would have fought even more bitterly before he +surrendered himself to the smothering embrace of the factor's blanket. +On this night Fate had played a strange hand for them both, and only +that Fate, and perhaps the stars above, held a knowledge of what its +outcome was to be. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap12"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 12 +</H3> + +<P> +Half an hour later Bush McTaggart's fire was burning brightly again. In +the glow of it Baree lay trussed up like an Indian papoose, tied into a +balloon-shaped ball with babiche thong, his head alone showing where +his captor had cut a hole for it in the blanket. He was hopelessly +caught—so closely imprisoned in the blanket that he could scarcely +move a muscle of his body. A few feet away from him McTaggart was +bathing a bleeding hand in a basin of water. There was also a red +streak down the side of McTaggart's bullish neck. +</P> + +<P> +"You little devil!" he snarled at Baree. "You little devil!" +</P> + +<P> +He reached over suddenly and gave Baree's head a vicious blow with his +heavy hand. +</P> + +<P> +"I ought to beat your brains out, and—I believe I will!" +</P> + +<P> +Baree watched him as he picked up a stick close at his side—a bit of +firewood. Pierrot had chased him, but this was the first time he had +been near enough to the man-monster to see the red glow in his eyes. +They were not like the eyes of the wonderful creature who had almost +caught him in the web of her hair, and who had crawled after him under +the rock. They were the eyes of a beast. They made him shrink and try +to draw his head back into the blanket as the stick was raised. At the +same time he snarled. His white fangs gleamed in the firelight. His +ears were flat. He wanted to sink his teeth in the red throat where he +had already drawn blood. +</P> + +<P> +The stick fell. It fell again and again, and when McTaggart was done, +Baree lay half stunned, his eyes partly closed by the blows, and his +mouth bleeding. +</P> + +<P> +"That's the way we take the devil out of a wild dog," snarled +McTaggart. "I guess you won't try the biting game again, eh, youngster? +A thousand devils—but you went almost to the bone of this hand!" +</P> + +<P> +He began washing the wound again. Baree's teeth had sunk deep, and +there was a troubled look in the factor's face. It was July—a bad +month for bites. From his kit he got a small flask of whisky and turned +a bit of the raw liquor on the wound, cursing Baree as it burned into +his flesh. +</P> + +<P> +Baree's half-shut eyes were fixed on him steadily. He knew that at last +he had met the deadliest of all his enemies. And yet he was not afraid. +The club in Bush McTaggart's hand had not killed his spirit. It had +killed his fear. It had roused in him a hatred such as he had never +known—not even when he was fighting Oohoomisew, the outlaw owl. The +vengeful animosity of the wolf was burning in him now, along with the +savage courage of the dog. He did not flinch when McTaggart approached +him again. He made an effort to raise himself, that he might spring at +this man-monster. In the effort, swaddled as he was in the blanket, he +rolled over in a helpless and ludicrous heap. +</P> + +<P> +The sight of it touched McTaggart's risibilities, and he laughed. He +sat down with his back to the tree again and filled his pipe. +</P> + +<P> +Baree did not take his eyes from McTaggart as he smoked. He watched the +man when the latter stretched himself out on the bare ground and went +to sleep. He listened, still later, to the man-monster's heinous +snoring. Again and again during the long night he struggled to free +himself. He would never forget that night. It was terrible. In the +thick, hot folds of the blanket his limbs and body were suffocated +until the blood almost stood still in his veins. Yet he did not whine. +</P> + +<P> +They began to journey before the sun was up, for if Baree's blood was +almost dead within him, Bush McTaggart's was scorching his body. He +made his last plans as he walked swiftly through the forest with Baree +under his arm. He would send Pierrot at once for Father Grotin at his +mission seventy miles to the west. He would marry Nepeese—yes, marry +her! That would tickle Pierrot. And he would be alone with Nepeese +while Pierrot was gone for the missioner. +</P> + +<P> +This thought flamed McTaggart's blood like strong whisky. There was no +thought in his hot and unreasoning brain of what Nepeese might say—of +what she might think. His hand clenched, and he laughed harshly as +there flashed on him for an instant the thought that perhaps Pierrot +would not want to give her up. Pierrot! Bah! It would not be the first +time he had killed a man—or the second. +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart laughed again, and he walked still faster. There was no +chance of his losing—no chance for Nepeese to get away from him. +He—Bush McTaggart—was lord of this wilderness, master of its people, +arbiter of their destinies. He was power—and the law. +</P> + +<P> +The sun was well up when Pierrot, standing in front of his cabin with +Nepeese, pointed to a rise in the trail three or four hundred yards +away, over which McTaggart had just appeared. +</P> + +<P> +"He is coming." +</P> + +<P> +With a face which had aged since last night he looked at Nepeese. Again +he saw the dark glow in her eyes and the deepening red of her parted +lips, and his heart was sick again with dread. Was it possible— +</P> + +<P> +She turned on him, her eyes shining, her voice trembling. +</P> + +<P> +"Remember, Nootawe—you must send him to me for his answer," she cried +quickly, and she darted into the cabin. With a cold, gray face Pierrot +faced Bush McTaggart. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap13"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 13 +</H3> + +<P> +From the window, her face screened by the folds of the curtain which +she had made for it, the Willow could see what happened outside. She +was not smiling now. She was breathing quickly, and her body was tense. +Bush McTaggart paused not a dozen feet from the window and shook hands +with Pierrot, her father. She heard McTaggart's coarse voice, his +boisterous greeting, and then she saw him showing Pierrot what he +carried under his arm. There came to her distinctly his explanation of +how he had caught his captive in a rabbit snare. He unwrapped the +blanket. Nepeese gave a cry of amazement. In an instant she was out +beside them. She did not look at McTaggart's red face, blazing in its +joy and exultation. +</P> + +<P> +"It is Baree!" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +She took the bundle from McTaggart and turned to Pierrot. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell him that Baree belongs to me," she said. +</P> + +<P> +She hurried into the cabin. McTaggart looked after her, stunned and +amazed. Then he looked at Pierrot. A man half blind could have seen +that Pierrot was as amazed as he. +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese had not spoken to him—the factor of Lac Bain! She had not +LOOKED at him! And she had taken the dog from him with as little +concern as though he had been a wooden man. The red in his face +deepened as he stared from Pierrot to the door through which she had +gone, and which she had closed behind her. +</P> + +<P> +On the floor of the cabin Nepeese dropped on her knees and finished +unwrapping the blanket. She was not afraid of Baree. She had forgotten +McTaggart. And then, as Baree rolled in a limp heap on the floor, she +saw his half-closed eyes and the dry blood on his jaws, and the light +left her face as swiftly as the sun is shadowed by a cloud. "Baree," +she cried softly. "Baree—Baree!" +</P> + +<P> +She partly lifted him in her two hands. Baree's head sagged. His body +was numbed until he was powerless to move. His legs were without +feeling. He could scarcely see. But he heard her voice! It was the same +voice that had come to him that day he had felt the sting of the +bullet, the voice that had pleaded with him under the rock! +</P> + +<P> +The voice of the Willow thrilled Baree. It seemed to stir the sluggish +blood in his veins, and he opened his eyes wider and saw again the +wonderful stars that had glowed at him so softly the day of Wakayoo's +death. One of the Willow's long braids fell over her shoulder, and he +smelled again the sweet scent of her hair as her hand caressed him and +her voice talked to him. Then she got up suddenly and left him, and he +did not move while he waited for her. In a moment she was back with a +basin of water and a cloth. Gently she washed the blood from his eyes +and mouth. And still Baree made no move. He scarcely breathed. But +Nepeese saw the little quivers that shot through his body when her hand +touched him, like electric shocks. +</P> + +<P> +"He beat you with a club," she was saying, her dark eyes within a foot +of Baree's. "He beat you! That man-beast!" +</P> + +<P> +There came an interruption. The door opened, and the man-beast stood +looking down on them, a grin on his red face. Instantly Baree showed +that he was alive. He sprang back from under the Willow's hand with a +sudden snarl and faced McTaggart. The hair of his spine stood up like a +brush; his fangs gleamed menacingly, and his eyes burned like living +coals. +</P> + +<P> +"There is a devil in him," said McTaggart. "He is wild—born of the +wolf. You must be careful or he will take off a hand, kit sakahet." It +was the first time he had called her that lover's name in +Cree—SWEETHEART! Her heart pounded. She bent her head for a moment +over her clenched hands, and McTaggart—looking down on what he thought +was her confusion—laid his hand caressingly on her hair. From the door +Pierrot had heard the word, and now he saw the caress, and he raised a +hand as if to shut out the sight of a sacrilege. +</P> + +<P> +"Mon Dieu!" he breathed. +</P> + +<P> +In the next instant he had given a sharp cry of wonder that mingled +with a sudden yell of pain from McTaggart. Like a flash Baree had +darted across the floor and fastened his teeth in the factor's leg. +They had bitten deep before McTaggart freed himself with a powerful +kick. With an oath he snatched his revolver from its holster. The +Willow was ahead of him. With a little cry she darted to Baree and +caught him in her arms. As she looked up at McTaggart, her soft, bare +throat was within a few inches of Baree's naked fangs. Her eyes blazed. +</P> + +<P> +"You beat him!" she cried. "He hates you—hates you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Let him go!" called Pierrot in an agony of fear. +</P> + +<P> +"Mon Dieu! I say let him go, or he will tear the life from you!" +</P> + +<P> +"He hates you—hates you—hates you—" the Willow was repeating over +and over again into McTaggart's startled face. Then suddenly she turned +to her father. "No, he will not tear the life from me," she cried. +"See! It is Baree. Did I not tell you that? It is Baree! Is it not +proof that he defended me—" +</P> + +<P> +"From me!" gasped McTaggart, his face darkening. +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot advanced and laid a hand on McTaggart's arm. He was smiling. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us leave them to fight it out between themselves, m'sieu," he +said. "They are two little firebrands, and we are not safe. If she is +bitten—" +</P> + +<P> +He shrugged his shoulders. A great load had been lifted from them +suddenly. His voice was soft and persuasive. And now the anger had gone +out of the Willow's face. A coquettish uplift of her eyes caught +McTaggart, and she looked straight at him half smiling, as she spoke to +her father: +</P> + +<P> +"I will join you soon, mon pere—you and M'sieu the Factor from Lac +Bain!" +</P> + +<P> +There were undeniable little devils in her eyes, McTaggart +thought—little devils laughing full at him as she spoke, setting his +brain afire and his blood to throbbing wildly. Those eyes—full of +dancing witches! How he would take pleasure in taming them—very soon +now! He followed Pierrot outside. In his exultation he no longer felt +the smart of Baree's teeth. +</P> + +<P> +"I will show you my new cariole that I have made for winter, m'sieu," +said Pierrot as the door closed behind them. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Half an hour later Nepeese came out of the cabin. She could see that +Pierrot and the factor had been talking about something that had not +been pleasant to her father. His face was strained. She caught in his +eyes the smolder of fire which he was trying to smother, as one might +smother flames under a blanket. McTaggart's jaws were set, but his eyes +lighted up with pleasure when he saw her. She knew what it was about. +The factor from Lac Bain had been demanding his answer of Pierrot, and +Pierrot had been telling him what she had insisted upon—that he must +come to her. And he was coming! She turned with a quick beating of the +heart and hurried down a little path. She heard McTaggart's footsteps +behind her, and threw the flash of a smile over her shoulder. But her +teeth were set tight. The nails of her fingers were cutting into the +palms of her hands. +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot stood without moving. He watched them as they disappeared into +the edge of the forest, Nepeese still a few steps ahead of McTaggart. +Out of his breast rose a sharp breath. +</P> + +<P> +"Par les milles cornes du diable!" he swore softly. "Is it +possible—that she smiles from her heart at that beast? Non! It is +impossible. And yet—if it is so—" +</P> + +<P> +One of his brown hands tightened convulsively about the handle of the +knife in his belt, and slowly he began to follow them. +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart did not hurry to overtake Nepeese. She was following the +narrow path deeper into the forest, and he was glad of that. They would +be alone—away from Pierrot. He was ten steps behind her, and again the +Willow smiled at him over her shoulder. Her body moved sinuously and +swiftly. She was keeping accurate measurement of the distance between +them—but McTaggart did not guess that this was why she looked back +every now and then. He was satisfied to let her go on. When she turned +from the narrow trail into a side path that scarcely bore the mark of +travel, his heart gave an exultant jump. If she kept on, he would very +soon have her alone—a good distance from the cabin. The blood ran hot +in his face. He did not speak to her, through fear that she would stop. +Ahead of them he heard the rumble of water. It was the creek running +through the chasm. +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese was making straight for that sound. With a little laugh she +started to run, and when she stood at the edge of the chasm, McTaggart +was fully fifty yards behind her. Twenty feet sheer down there was a +deep pool between the rock walls, a pool so deep that the water was the +color of blue ink. She turned to face the factor from Lac Bain. He had +never looked more like a red beast to her. Until this moment she had +been unafraid. But now—in an instant—he terrified her. Before she +could speak what she had planned to say, he was at her side, and had +taken her face between his two great hands, his coarse fingers twining +in the silken strands of her thick braids where they fell over her +shoulders at the neck. +</P> + +<P> +"Ka sakahet!" he cried passionately. "Pierrot said you would have an +answer for me. But I need no answer now. You are mine! Mine!" +</P> + +<P> +She gave a cry. It was a gasping, broken cry. His arms were about her +like bands of iron, crushing her slender body, shutting off her breath, +turning the world almost black before her eyes. She could neither +struggle nor cry out. She felt the hot passion of his lips on her face, +heard his voice—and then came a moment's freedom, and air into her +strangled lungs. Pierrot was calling! He had come to the fork in the +trail, and he was calling the Willow's name! +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart's hot hand came over her mouth. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't answer," she heard him say. +</P> + +<P> +Strength—anger—hatred flared up in her, and fiercely she struck the +hand down. Something in her wonderful eyes held McTaggart. They blazed +into his very soul. +</P> + +<P> +"Bete noir!" she panted at him, freeing herself from the last touch of +his hands. "Beast—black beast!" Her voice trembled, and her face +flamed. "See—I came to show you my pool—and tell you what you wanted +to hear—and you—you—have crushed me like a beast—like a great +rock— See! down there—it is my pool!" +</P> + +<P> +She had not planned it like this. She had intended to be smiling, even +laughing, in this moment. But McTaggart had spoiled them—her carefully +made plans! And yet, as she pointed, the factor from Lac Bain looked +for an instant over the edge of the chasm. And then she +laughed—laughed as she gave him a sudden shove from behind. +</P> + +<P> +"And that is my answer, M'sieu le Facteur from Lac Bain!" she cried +tauntingly as he plunged headlong into the deep pool between the rock +walls. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap14"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 14 +</H3> + +<P> +From the edge of the open Pierrot saw what had happened, and he gave a +great gasp of horror. He drew back among the balsams. This was not a +moment for him to show himself. While his heart drummed like a hammer, +his face was filled with joy. +</P> + +<P> +On her hands and knees the Willow was peering over the edge. Bush +McTaggart had disappeared. He had gone down like the great clod he was. +The water of her pool had closed over him with a dull splash that was +like a chuckle of triumph. He appeared now, beating out with his arms +and legs to keep himself afloat, while the Willow's voice came to him +in taunting cries. +</P> + +<P> +"Bete noir! Bete noir! Beast! Beast—" +</P> + +<P> +Savagely she flung small sticks and tufts of earth down at him; and +McTaggart, looking up as he gained his equilibrium, saw her leaning so +far over that she seemed almost about to fall. Her long braids hung +down into the chasm, gleaming in the sun. Her eyes were laughing while +her lips taunted him. He could see the flash of her white teeth. +</P> + +<P> +"Beast! Beast!" +</P> + +<P> +He began swimming, still looking up at her. It was a hundred yards down +the slow-going current to the beach of shale where he could climb out, +and a half of that distance she followed him, laughing and taunting +him, and flinging down sticks and pebbles. He noted that none of the +sticks or stones was large enough to hurt him. When at last his feet +touched bottom, she was gone. +</P> + +<P> +Swiftly Nepeese ran back over the trail, and almost into Pierrot's +arms. She was panting and laughing when for a moment she stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"I have given him the answer, Nootawe! He is in the pool!" +</P> + +<P> +Into the balsams she disappeared like a bird. Pierrot made no effort to +stop her or to follow. +</P> + +<P> +"Tonnerre de Dieu," he chuckled—and cut straight across for the other +trail. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Nepeese was out of breath when she reached the cabin. Baree, fastened +to a table leg by a babiche thong, heard her pause for a moment at the +door. Then she entered and came straight to him. During the half-hour +of her absence Baree had scarcely moved. That half-hour, and the few +minutes that had preceded it, had made tremendous impressions upon him. +Nature, heredity, and instinct were at work, clashing and readjusting, +impinging on him a new intelligence—the beginning of a new +understanding. A swift and savage impulse had made him leap at Bush +McTaggart when the factor put his hand on the Willow's head. It was not +reason. It was a hearkening back of the dog to that day long ago when +Kazan, his father, had lulled the man-brute in the tent, the man-brute +who had dared to molest Thorpe's wife, whom Kazan worshiped. Then it +had been the dog—and the woman. +</P> + +<P> +And here again it was the woman. She had appealed to the great hidden +passion that was in Baree and that had come to him from Kazan. Of all +the living things in the world, he knew that he must not hurt this +creature that appeared to him through the door. He trembled as she +knelt before him again, and up through the years came the wild and +glorious surge of Kazan's blood, overwhelming the wolf, submerging the +savagery of his birth—and with his head flat on the floor he whined +softly, and WAGGED HIS TAIL. +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese gave a cry of joy. +</P> + +<P> +"Baree!" she whispered, taking his head in her hands. "Baree!" +</P> + +<P> +Her touch thrilled him. It sent little throbs through his body, a +tremulous quivering which she could feel and which deepened the glow in +her eyes. Gently her hand stroked his head and his back. It seemed to +Nepeese that he did not breathe. Under the caress of her hand his eyes +closed. In another moment she was talking to him, and at the sound of +her voice his eyes shot open. +</P> + +<P> +"He will come here—that beast—and he will kill us," she was saying. +"He will kill you because you bit him, Baree. Ugh, I wish you were +bigger, and stronger, so that you could take off his head for me!" +</P> + +<P> +She was untying the babiche from about the table leg, and under her +breath she laughed. She was not frightened. It was a tremendous +adventure—and she throbbed with exultation at the thought of having +beaten the man-beast in her own way. She could see him in the pool +struggling and beating about like a great fish. He was just about +crawling out of the chasm now—and she laughed again as she caught +Baree up under her arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh—oopi-nao—but you are heavy!" she gasped, "And yet I must carry +you—because I am going to run!" +</P> + +<P> +She hurried outside. Pierrot had not come, and she darted swiftly into +the balsams back of the cabin, with Baree hung in the crook of her arm, +like a sack filled at both ends and tied in the middle. He felt like +that, too. But he still had no inclination to wriggle himself free. +Nepeese ran with him until her arm ached. Then she stopped and put him +down on his feet, holding to the end of the caribou-skin thong that was +tied about his neck. She was prepared for any lunge he might make to +escape. She expected that he would make an attempt, and for a few +moments she watched him closely, while Baree, with his feet on earth +once more, looked about him. And then the Willow spoke to him softly. +</P> + +<P> +"You are not going to run away, Baree. Non, you are going to stay with +me, and we will kill that man-beast if he dares do to me again what he +did back there." She flung back the loose hair from about her flushed +face, and for a moment she forgot Baree as she thought of that +half-minute at the edge of the chasm. He was looking straight up at her +when her glance fell on him again. "Non, you are not going to run +away—you are going to follow me," she whispered. "Come." +</P> + +<P> +The babiche string tightened about Baree's neck as she urged him to +follow. It was like another rabbit snare, and he braced his forefeet +and bared his fangs just a little. The Willow did not pull. Fearlessly +she put her hand on his head again. From the direction of the cabin +came a shout, and at the sound of it she took Baree up under her arm +once more. +</P> + +<P> +"Bete noir—bete noir!" she called back tauntingly, but only loud +enough to be heard a few yards away. "Go back to Lac Bain—owases—you +wild beast!" +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese began to make her way swiftly through the forest. It grew +deeper and darker, and there were no trails. Three times in the next +half-hour she stopped to put Baree down and rest her arm. Each time she +pleaded with him coaxingly to follow her. The second and third times +Baree wriggled and wagged his tail, but beyond those demonstrations of +his satisfaction with the turn his affairs had taken he would not go. +When the string tightened around his neck, he braced himself; once he +growled—again he snapped viciously at the babiche. So Nepeese +continued to carry him. +</P> + +<P> +They came at last into a clearing. It was a tiny meadow in the heart of +the forest, not more than three or four times as big as the cabin. +Underfoot the grass was soft and green, and thickly strewn with +flowers. Straight through the heart of this little oasis trickled a +streamlet across which the Willow jumped with Baree under her arm, and +on the edge of the rill was a small wigwam made of freshly cut spruce +and balsam boughs. Into her diminutive mekewap the Willow thrust her +head to see that things were as she had left them yesterday. Then, with +a long breath of relief, she put down her four-legged burden and +fastened the end of the babiche to one of the cut spruce limbs. +</P> + +<P> +Baree burrowed himself back into the wall of the wigwam, and with head +alert—and eyes wide open—watched his companion attentively. Not a +movement of the Willow escaped him. She was radiant—and happy. Her +laugh, sweet and wild as a bird's trill, set Baree's heart throbbing +with a desire to jump about with her among the flowers. +</P> + +<P> +For a time Nepeese seemed to forget Baree. Her wild blood raced with +the joy of her triumph over the factor from Lac Bain. She saw him +again, floundering about in the pool—pictured him at the cabin now, +soaked and angry, demanding of mon pere where she had gone. And mon +pere, with a shrug of his shoulders, was telling him that he didn't +know—that probably she had run off into the forest. It did not enter +into her head that in tricking Bush McTaggart in that way she was +playing with dynamite. She did not foresee the peril that in an instant +would have stamped the wild flush from her face and curdled the blood +in her veins—she did not guess that McTaggart had become for her a +deadlier menace than ever. +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese knew that he must be angry. But what had she to fear? Mon pere +would be angry, too, if she told him what had happened at the edge of +the chasm. But she would not tell him. He might kill the man from Lac +Bain. A factor was great. But Pierrot, her father, was greater. It was +an unlimited faith in her, born of her mother. Perhaps even now Pierrot +was sending him back to Lac Bain, telling him that his business was +there. But she would not return to the cabin to see. She would wait +here. Mon pere would understand—and he knew where to find her when the +man was gone. But it would have been such fun to throw sticks at him as +he went! +</P> + +<P> +After a little Nepeese returned to Baree. She brought him water and +gave him a piece of raw fish. For hours they were alone, and with each +hour there grew stronger in Baree the desire to follow the girl in +every movement she made, to crawl close to her when she sat down, to +feel the touch of her dress, of her hand—and to hear her voice. But he +did not show this desire. He was still a little savage of the +forests—a four-footed barbarian born half of a wolf and half of a dog; +and he lay still. With Umisk he would have played. With Oohoomisew he +would have fought. At Bush McTaggart he would have bared his fangs, and +buried them deep when the chance came. But the girl was different. Like +the Kazan of old, he had begun to worship. If the Willow had freed +Baree, he would not have run away. If she had left him, he would +possibly have followed her—at a distance. His eyes were never away +from her. He watched her build a small fire and cook a piece of the +fish. He watched her eat her dinner. +</P> + +<P> +It was quite late in the afternoon when she came and sat down close to +him, with her lap full of flowers which she twined in the long, shining +braids of her hair. Then, playfully, she began beating Baree with the +end of one of these braids. He shrank under the soft blows, and with +that low, birdlike laughter in her throat, Nepeese drew his head into +her lap where the scatter of flowers lay. She talked to him. Her hand +stroked his head. Then it remained still, so near that he wanted to +thrust out his warm red tongue and caress it. He breathed in the +flower-scented perfume of it—and lay as if dead. It was a glorious +moment. Nepeese, looking down on him, could not see that he was +breathing. +</P> + +<P> +There came an interruption. It was the snapping of a dry stick. Through +the forest Pierrot had come with the stealth of a cat, and when they +looked up, he stood at the edge of the open. Baree knew that it was not +Bush McTaggart. But it was a man-beast! Instantly his body stiffened +under the Willow's hand. He drew back slowly and cautiously from her +lap, and as Pierrot advanced, Baree snarled. The next instant Nepeese +had risen and had run to Pierrot. The look in her father's face alarmed +her. +</P> + +<P> +"What has happened, mon pere?" she cried. +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot shrugged his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, ma Nepeese—except that you have roused a thousand devils in +the heart of the factor from Lac Barn, and that—" +</P> + +<P> +He stopped as he saw Baree, and pointed at him. +</P> + +<P> +"Last night when M'sieu the Factor caught him in a snare, he bit +m'sieu's hand. M'sieu's hand is swollen twice its size, and I can see +his blood turning black. It is pechipoo." +</P> + +<P> +"Pechipoo!" gasped Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +She looked into Pierrot's eyes. They were dark, and filled with a +sinister gleam—a flash of exultation, she thought. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is the blood poison," said Pierrot. A gleam of cunning shot +into his eyes as he looked over his shoulder, and nodded. "I have +hidden the medicine—and told him there is no time to lose in getting +back to Lac Bain. And he is afraid—that devil! He is waiting. With +that blackening hand, he is afraid to start back alone—and so I go +with him. And—listen, ma Nepeese. We will be away by sundown, and +there is something you must know before I go." +</P> + +<P> +Baree saw them there, close together in the shadows thrown by the tall +spruce trees. He heard the low murmur of their voices—chiefly of +Pierrot's, and at last he saw Nepeese put her two arms up around the +man-beast's neck, and then Pierrot went away again into the forest. He +thought that the Willow would never turn her face toward him after +that. For a long time she stood looking in the direction which Pierrot +had taken. And when after a time she turned and came back to Baree, she +did not look like the Nepeese who had been twining flowers in her hair. +The laughter was gone from her face and eyes. She knelt down beside him +and with sudden fierceness she cried: +</P> + +<P> +"It is pechipoo, Baree! It was you—you—who put the poison in his +blood. And I hope he dies! For I am afraid—afraid!" +</P> + +<P> +She shivered. +</P> + +<P> +Perhaps it was in this moment that the Great Spirit of things meant +Baree to understand—that at last it was given him to comprehend that +his day had dawned, that the rising and the setting of his sun no +longer existed in the sky but in this girl whose hand rested on his +head. He whined softly, and inch by inch he dragged himself nearer to +her until again his head rested in the hollow of her lap. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap15"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 15 +</H3> + +<P> +For a long time after Pierrot left them the Willow did not move from +the spot where she had seated herself beside Baree. It was at last the +deepening shadows and a low rumble in the sky that roused her from the +fear of the things Pierrot had told her. When she looked up, black +clouds were massing slowly over the open space above the spruce tops. +Darkness was falling. In the whisper of the wind and the dead stillness +of the thickening gloom there was the sullen brewing of storm. Tonight +there would be no glorious sunset. There would be no twilight hour in +which to follow the trail, no moon, no stars—and unless Pierrot and +the factor were already on their way, they would not start in the face +of the pitch blackness that would soon shroud the forest. +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese shivered and rose to her feet. For the first time Baree got up, +and he stood close at her side. Above them a flash of lightning cut the +clouds like a knife of fire, followed in an instant by a terrific crash +of thunder. Baree shrank back as if struck a blow. He would have slunk +into the shelter of the brush wall of the wigwam, but there was +something about the Willow as he looked at her which gave him +confidence. The thunder crashed again. But he retreated no farther. His +eyes were fixed on Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +She stood straight and slim in that gathering gloom riven by the +lightning, her beautiful head thrown back, her lips parted, and her +eyes glowing with an almost eager anticipation—a sculptured goddess +welcoming with bated breath the onrushing forces of the heavens. +Perhaps it was because she was born during a night of storm. Many times +Pierrot and the dead princess mother had told her that—how on the +night she had come into the world the crash of thunder and the flare of +lightning had made the hours an inferno, how the streams had burst over +their banks and the stems of ten thousand forest trees had snapped in +its fury—and the beat of the deluge on their cabin roof had drowned +the sound of her mother's pain, and of her own first babyish cries. +</P> + +<P> +On that night, it may be, the Spirit of Storm was born in Nepeese. She +loved to face it, as she was facing it now. It made her forget all +things but the splendid might of nature. Her half-wild soul thrilled to +the crash and fire of it. Often she had reached up her bare arms and +laughed with joy as the deluge burst about her. Even now she might have +stood there in the little open until the rain fell, if a whine from +Baree had not caused her to turn. As the first big drops struck with +the dull thud of leaden bullets about them, she went with him into the +balsam shelter. +</P> + +<P> +Once before Baree had passed through a night of terrible storm—the +night he had hidden himself under a root and had seen the tree riven by +lightning; but now he had company, and the warmth and soft pressure of +the Willow's hand on his head and neck filled him with a strange +courage. He growled softly at the crashing thunder. He wanted to snap +at the lightning flashes. Under her hand Nepeese felt the stiffening of +his body, and in a moment of uncanny stillness she heard the sharp, +uneasy click of his teeth. Then the rain fell. +</P> + +<P> +It was not like other rains Baree had known. It was an inundation +sweeping down out of the blackness of the skies. Within five minutes +the interior of the balsam shelter was a shower bath. After half an +hour of that torrential downpour, Nepeese was soaked to the skin. The +water ran in little rivulets down her body. It trickled in tiny streams +from her drenched braids and dropped from her long lashes, and the +blanket under her became wet as a mop. To Baree it was almost as bad as +his near-drowning in the stream after his fight with Papayuchisew, and +he snuggled closer and closer under the sheltering arm of the Willow. +It seemed an interminable time before the thunder rolled far to the +east, and the lightning died away into distant and intermittent +flashings. Even after that the rain fell for another hour. Then it +stopped as suddenly as it had begun. +</P> + +<P> +With a laughing gasp Nepeese rose to her feet. The water gurgled in her +moccasins as she walked out into the open. She paid no attention to +Baree—and he followed her. Across the open in the treetops the last of +the storm clouds were drifting away. A star shone—then another; and +the Willow stood watching them as they appeared until there were so +many she could not count. It was no longer black. A wonderful starlight +flooded the open after the inky gloom of the storm. +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese looked down and saw Baree. He was standing quietly and +unleashed, with freedom on all sides of him. Yet he did not run. He was +waiting, wet as a water rat, with his eyes fixed on her expectantly. +Nepeese made a movement toward him, and hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"No, you will not run away, Baree. I will leave you free. And now we +must have a fire!" +</P> + +<P> +A fire! Anyone but Pierrot might have said that she was crazy. Not a +stem or twig in the forest that was not dripping! They could hear the +trickle of running water all about them. +</P> + +<P> +"A fire," she said again. "Let us hunt for the wuskisi, Baree." +</P> + +<P> +With her wet clothes clinging to her lightly, she was like a slim +shadow as she crossed the soggy clearing and lost herself among the +forest trees. Baree still followed. She went straight to a birch tree +that she had located that day and began tearing off the loose bark. An +armful of this bark she carried close to the wigwam, and on it she +heaped load after load of wet wood until she had a great pile. From a +bottle in the wigwam she secured a dry match, and at the first touch of +its tiny flame the birch bark flared up like paper soaked in oil. Half +an hour later the Willow's fire—if there had been no forest walls to +hide it—could have been seen at the cabin a mile away. Not until it +was blazing a dozen feet into the air did she cease piling wood on it. +Then she drove sticks into the soft ground and over these sticks she +stretched the blanket out to dry. +</P> + +<P> +So their first night passed—storm, the cool, deep pool, the big fire; +and later, when the Willow's clothes and the blanket had dried, a few +hours' sleep. At dawn they returned to the cabin. It was a cautious +approach. There was no smoke coming from the chimney. The door was +closed. Pierrot and Bush McTaggart were gone. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap16"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 16 +</H3> + +<P> +It was the beginning of August—the Flying-up Moon—when Pierrot +returned from Lac Bain, and in three days more it would be the Willow's +seventeenth birthday. He brought back with him many things for +Nepeese—ribbons for her hair, real shoes, which she wore at times like +the two Englishwomen at Nelson House, and chief glory of all, some +wonderful red cloth for a dress. In the three winters she had spent at +the mission these women had made much of Nepeese. They had taught her +to sew as well as to spell and read and pray, and at times there came +to the Willow a compelling desire to do as they did. +</P> + +<P> +So for three days Nepeese worked hard on her new dress and on her +birthday she stood before Pierrot in a fashion that took his breath +away. She had piled her hair in great coils on the crown of her head, +as Yvonne, the younger of the Englishwomen, had taught her, and in the +rich jet of it had half buried a vivid sprig of the crimson fireflower. +Under this, and the glow in her eyes, and the red flush of her lips and +cheeks came the wonderful red dress, fitted to the slim and sinuous +beauty of her form—as the style had been two winters ago at Nelson +House. And below the dress, which reached just below the knees—Nepeese +had quite forgotten the proper length, or else her material had run +out—came the coup de maitre of her toilet, real stockings and the gay +shoes with high heels! She was a vision before which the gods of the +forests might have felt their hearts stop beating. Pierrot turned her +round and round without a word, but smiling. When she left him, +however, followed by Baree, and limping a little because of the +tightness of her shoes, the smile faded from his face, leaving it cold +and bleak. +</P> + +<P> +"Mon Dieu," he whispered to himself in French, with a thought that was +like a sharp stab at his heart, "she is not of her mother's blood—non. +It is French. She is—yes—like an angel." +</P> + +<P> +A change had come over Pierrot. During the three days she had been +engaged in her dressmaking, Nepeese had been quite too excited to +notice this change, and Pierrot had tried to keep it from her. He had +been away ten days on the trip to Lac Bain, and he brought back to +Nepeese the joyous news that M'sieu McTaggart was very sick with +pechipoo—the blood poison—news that made the Willow clap her hands +and laugh happily. But he knew that the factor would get well, and that +he would come again to their cabin on the Gray Loon. And when next time +he came— +</P> + +<P> +It was while he was thinking of this that his face grew cold and hard, +and his eyes burned. And he was thinking of it on this her birthday, +even as her laughter floated to him like a song. Dieu, in spite of her +seventeen years, she was nothing but a child—a baby! She could not +guess his horrible visions. And the dread of awakening her for all time +from that beautiful childhood kept him from telling her the whole truth +so that she might have understood fully and completely. Non, it should +not be that. His soul beat with a great and gentle love. He, Pierrot Du +Quesne, would do the watching. And she should laugh and sing and +play—and have no share in the black forebodings that had come to spoil +his life. +</P> + +<P> +On this day there came up from the south MacDonald, the government map +maker. He was gray and grizzled, with a great, free laugh and a clean +heart. Two days he remained with Pierrot. He told Nepeese of his +daughters at home, of their mother, whom he worshiped more than +anything else on earth—and before he went on in his quest of the last +timber line of Banksian pine, he took pictures of the Willow as he had +first seen her on her birthday: her hair piled in glossy coils, her red +dress, the high-heeled shoes. He carried the negatives on with him, +promising Pierrot that he would get a picture back in some way. Thus +fate works in its strange and apparently innocent ways as it spins its +webs of tragedy. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +For many weeks after MacDonald's visit there followed tranquil days on +the Gray Loon. They were wonderful days for Baree. At first he was +suspicious of Pierrot. After a little he tolerated him, and at last +accepted him as a part of the cabin—and Nepeese. It was the Willow +whose shadow he became. Pierrot noted the attachment with the deepest +satisfaction. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, in a few months more, if he should leap at the throat of M'sieu +the Factor," he said to himself one day. +</P> + +<P> +In September, when he was six months old, Baree was almost as large as +Gray Wolf—big-boned, long-fanged, with a deep chest, and jaws that +could already crack a bone as if it were a stick. He was with Nepeese +whenever and wherever she moved. They swam together in the two +pools—the pool in the forest and the pool between the chasm walls. At +first it alarmed Baree to see Nepeese dive from the rock wall over +which she had pushed McTaggart, but at the end of a month she had +taught him to plunge after her through that twenty feet of space. +</P> + +<P> +It was late in August when Baree saw the first of his kind outside of +Kazan and Gray Wolf. During the summer Pierrot allowed his dogs to run +at large on a small island in the center of a lake two or three miles +away, and twice a week he netted fish for them. On one of these trips +Nepeese accompanied him and took Baree with her. Pierrot carried his +long caribou-gut whip. He expected a fight. But there was none. Baree +joined the pack in their rush for fish, and ate with them. This pleased +Pierrot more than ever. +</P> + +<P> +"He will make a great sledge dog," he chuckled. "It is best to leave +him for a week with the pack, ma Nepeese." +</P> + +<P> +Reluctantly Nepeese gave her consent. While the dogs were still at +their fish, they started homeward. Their canoe had slipped away before +Baree discovered the trick they had played on him. Instantly he leaped +into the water and swam after them—and the Willow helped him into his +canoe. +</P> + +<P> +Early in September a passing Indian brought Pierrot word of Bush +McTaggart. The factor had been very sick. He had almost died from the +blood poison, but he was well now. With the first exhilarating tang of +autumn in the air a new dread oppressed Pierrot. But at present he said +nothing of what was in his mind to Nepeese. The Willow had almost +forgotten the factor from Lac Bain, for the glory and thrill of +wilderness autumn was in her blood. She went on long trips with +Pierrot, helping him to blaze out the new trap lines that would be used +when the first snows came, and on these journeys she was always +accompanied by Baree. +</P> + +<P> +Most of Nepeese's spare hours she spent in training him for the sledge. +She began with a babiche string and a stick. It was a whole day before +she could induce Baree to drag this stick without turning at every +other step to snap and growl at it. Then she fastened another length of +babiche to him, and made him drag two sticks. Thus little by little she +trained him to the sledge harness, until at the end of a fortnight he +was tugging heroically at anything she had a mind to fasten him to. +Pierrot brought home two of the dogs from the island, and Baree was put +into training with these, and helped to drag the empty sledge. Nepeese +was delighted. On the day the first light snow fell she clapped her +hands and cried to Pierrot: +</P> + +<P> +"By midwinter I will have him the finest dog in the pack, mon pere!" +</P> + +<P> +This was the time for Pierrot to say what was in his mind. He smiled. +Diantre—would not that beast the factor fall into the very devil of a +rage when he found how he had been cheated! And yet— +</P> + +<P> +He tried to make his voice quiet and commonplace. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going to send you down to the school at Nelson House again this +winter, ma cherie," he said. "Baree will help draw you down on the +first good snow." +</P> + +<P> +The Willow was tying a knot in Baree's babiche, and she rose slowly to +her feet and looked at Pierrot. Her eyes were big and dark and steady. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not going, mon pere!" +</P> + +<P> +It was the first time Nepeese had ever said that to Pierrot—in just +that way. It thrilled him. And he could scarcely face the look in her +eyes. He was not good at bluffing. She saw what was in his face; it +seemed to him that she was reading what was in his mind, and that she +grew a little taller as she stood there. Certainly her breath came +quicker, and he could see the throb of her breast. Nepeese did not wait +for him to gather speech. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not going!" she repeated with even greater finality, and bent +again over Baree. +</P> + +<P> +With a shrug of his shoulders Pierrot watched her. After all, was he +not glad? Would his heart not have turned sick if she had been happy at +the thought of leaving him? He moved to her side and with great +gentleness laid a hand on her glossy head. Up from under it the Willow +smiled at him. Between them they heard the click of Baree's jaws as he +rested his muzzle on the Willow's arm. For the first time in weeks the +world seemed suddenly filled with sunshine for Pierrot. When he went +back to the cabin he held his head higher. Nepeese would not leave him! +He laughed softly. He rubbed his hands together. His fear of the factor +from Lac Bain was gone. From the cabin door he looked back at Nepeese +and Baree. +</P> + +<P> +"The Saints be blessed!" he murmured. "Now—now—it is Pierrot Du +Quesne who knows what to do!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap17"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 17 +</H3> + +<P> +Back to Lac Bain, late in September, came MacDonald the map maker. For +ten days Gregson, the investigating agent, had been Bush McTaggart's +guest at the Post, and twice in that time it had come into Marie's mind +to creep upon him while he slept and kill him. The factor himself paid +little attention to her now, a fact which would have made her happy if +it had not been for Gregson. He was enraptured with the wild, sinuous +beauty of the Cree girl, and McTaggart, without jealousy, encouraged +him. He was tired of Marie. +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart told Gregson this. He wanted to get rid of her, and if +he—Gregson—could possibly take her along with him it would be a great +favor. He explained why. A little later, when the deep snows came, he +was going to bring the daughter of Pierrot Du Quesne to the Post. In +the rottenness of their brotherhood he told of his visit, of the manner +of his reception, and of the incident at the chasm. In spite of all +this, he assured Gregson, Pierrot's girl would soon be at Lac Bain. +</P> + +<P> +It was at this time that MacDonald came. He remained only one night, +and without knowing that he was adding fuel to a fire already +dangerously blazing, he gave the photograph he had taken of Nepeese to +the factor. It was a splendid picture. +</P> + +<P> +"If you can get it down to that girl some day I'll be mightily +obliged," he said to McTaggart. "I promised her one. Her father's name +is Du Quesne—Pierrot Du Quesne. You probably know them. And the girl—" +</P> + +<P> +His blood warmed as he described to McTaggart how beautiful she was +that day in her red dress, which appeared black in the photograph. He +did not guess how near McTaggart's blood was to the boiling point. +</P> + +<P> +The next day MacDonald started for Norway House. McTaggart did not show +Gregson the picture. He kept it to himself and at night, under the glow +of his lamp, he looked at it with thoughts that filled him with a +growing resolution. There was but one way. The scheme had been in his +mind for weeks—and the picture determined him. He dared not whisper +his secret even to Gregson. But it was the one way. It would give him +Nepeese. Only—he must wait for the deep snows, the midwinter snows. +They buried their tragedies deepest. +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart was glad when Gregson followed the map maker to Norway House. +Out of courtesy he accompanied him a day's journey on his way. When he +returned to the Post, Marie was gone. He was glad. He sent off a runner +with a load of presents for her people, and the message: "Don't beat +her. Keep her. She is free." +</P> + +<P> +Along with the bustle and stir of the beginning of the trapping season +McTaggart began to prepare his house for the coming of Nepeese. He knew +what she liked in the way of cleanliness and a few other things. He had +the log walls painted white with the lead and oil that were intended +for his York boats. Certain partitions were torn down, and new ones +were built. The Indian wife of his chief runner made curtains for the +windows, and he confiscated a small phonograph that should have gone on +to Lac la Biche. He had no doubts, and he counted the days as they +passed. +</P> + +<P> +Down on the Gray Loon Pierrot and Nepeese were busy at many things, so +busy that at times Pierrot's fears of the factor at Lac Bain were +almost forgotten, and they slipped out of the Willow's mind entirely. +It was the Red Moon, and both thrilled with the anticipation and +excitement of the winter hunt. Nepeese carefully dipped a hundred traps +in boiling caribou fat mixed with beaver grease, while Pierrot made +fresh deadfalls ready for setting on his trails. When he was gone more +than a day from the cabin, she was always with him. +</P> + +<P> +But at the cabin there was much to do, for Pierrot, like all his +Northern brotherhood, did not begin to prepare until the keen tang of +autumn was in the air. There were snowshoes to be rewebbed with new +babiche; there was wood to be cut in readiness for the winter storms. +The cabin had to be banked, a new harness made, skinning knives +sharpened and winter moccasins to be manufactured—a hundred and one +affairs to be attended to, even to the repairing of the meat rack at +the back of the cabin, where, from the beginning of cold weather until +the end, would hang the haunches of deer, caribou, and moose for the +family larder and, when fish were scarce, the dogs' rations. +</P> + +<P> +In the bustle of all these preparations Nepeese was compelled to give +less attention to Baree than she had during the preceding weeks. They +did not play so much; they no longer swam, for with the mornings there +was deep frost on the ground, and the water was turning icy cold. They +no longer wandered deep in the forest after flowers and berries. For +hours at a time Baree would now lie at the Willow's feet, watching her +slender fingers as they weaved swiftly in and out with her snowshoe +babiche. And now and then Nepeese would pause to lean over and put her +hand on his head, and talk to him for a moment—sometimes in her soft +Cree, sometimes in English or her father's French. +</P> + +<P> +It was the Willow's voice which Baree had learned to understand, and +the movement of her lips, her gestures, the poise of her body, the +changing moods which brought shadow or sunlight into her face. He knew +what it meant when she smiled. He would shake himself, and often jump +about her in sympathetic rejoicing, when she laughed. Her happiness was +such a part of him that a stern word from her was worse than a blow. +Twice Pierrot had struck him, and twice Baree had leaped back and faced +him with bared fangs and an angry snarl, the crest along his back +standing up like a brush. Had one of the other dogs done this, Pierrot +would have half-killed him. It would have been mutiny, and the man must +be master. But Baree was always safe. A touch of the Willow's hand, a +word from her lips, and the crest slowly settled and the snarl went out +of his throat. +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot was not at all displeased. +</P> + +<P> +"Dieu. I will never go so far as to try and whip that out of him," he +told himself. "He is a barbarian—a wild beast—and her slave. For her +he would kill!" +</P> + +<P> +So it turned out, through Pierrot himself—and without telling his +reason for it—that Baree did not become a sledge dog. He was allowed +his freedom, and was never tied, like the others. Nepeese was glad, but +did not guess the thought that was in Pierrot's mind. To himself +Pierrot chuckled. She would never know why he kept Baree always +suspicious of him, even to the point of hating him. +</P> + +<P> +It required considerable skill and cunning on his part. With himself he +reasoned: +</P> + +<P> +"If I make him hate me, he will hate all men. Mey-oo! That is good." +</P> + +<P> +So he looked into the future—for Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +Now the tonic-filled days and cold, frosty nights of the Red Moon +brought about the big change in Baree. It was inevitable. Pierrot knew +that it would come, and the first night that Baree settled back on his +haunches and howled up at the Red Moon, Pierrot prepared Nepeese for it. +</P> + +<P> +"He is a wild dog, ma Nepeese," he said to her. "He is half wolf, and +the Call will come to him strong. He will go into the forests. He will +disappear at times. But we must not fasten him. He will come back. Ka, +he will come back!" And he rubbed his hands in the moonglow until his +knuckles cracked. +</P> + +<P> +The Call came to Baree like a thief entering slowly and cautiously into +a forbidden place. He did not understand it at first. It made him +nervous and uneasy, so restless that Nepeese frequently heard him whine +softly in his sleep. He was waiting for something. What was it? Pierrot +knew, and smiled in his inscrutable way. +</P> + +<P> +And then it came. It was night, a glorious night filled with moon and +stars, under which the earth was whitening with a film of frost, when +they heard the first hunt call of the wolves. Now and then during the +summer there had come the lone wolf howl, but this was the tonguing of +the pack; and as it floated through the vast silence and mystery of the +night, a song of savagery that had come with each Red Moon down through +unending ages, Pierrot knew that at last had come that for which Baree +had been waiting. +</P> + +<P> +In an instant Baree had sensed it. His muscles grew taut as pieces of +stretched rope as he stood up in the moonlight, facing the direction +from which floated the mystery and thrill of the sound. They could hear +him whining softly; and Pierrot, bending down so that he caught the +light of the night properly, could see him trembling. +</P> + +<P> +"It is Mee-Koo!" he said in a whisper to Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +That was it, the call of the blood that was running swift in Baree's +veins—not alone the call of his species, but the call of Kazan and +Gray Wolf and of his forbears for generations unnumbered. It was the +voice of his people. So Pierrot had whispered, and he was right. In the +golden night the Willow was waiting, for it was she who had gambled +most, and it was she who must lose or win. She uttered no sound, +replied not to the low voice of Pierrot, but held her breath and +watched Baree as he slowly faded away, step by step, into the shadows. +In a few moments more he was gone. It was then that she stood straight, +and flung back her head, with eyes that glowed in rivalry with the +stars. +</P> + +<P> +"Baree!" she called. "Baree! Baree! Baree!" +</P> + +<P> +He must have been near the edge of the forest, for she had drawn a +slow, waiting breath or two before he was and he whined up into her +face. Nepeese put her hands to his head. +</P> + +<P> +"You are right, mon pere," she said. "He will go to the wolves, but he +will come back. He will never leave me for long." With one hand still +on Baree's head, she pointed with the other into the pitlike blackness +of the forest. "Go to them, Baree!" she whispered. "But you must come +back. You must. Cheamao!" +</P> + +<P> +With Pierrot she went into the cabin; the door closed silence. In it he +could hear the soft night sounds: the clinking of the chains to which +the dogs were fastened, the restless movement of their bodies, the +throbbing whir of a pair of wings, the breath of the night itself. For +to him this night, even in its stillness, seemed alive. Again he went +into it, and close to the forest once more he stopped to listen. The +wind had turned, and on it rode the wailing, blood-thrilling cry of the +pack. Far off to the west a lone wolf turned his muzzle to the sky and +answered that gathering call of his clan. And then out of the east came +a voice, so far beyond the cabin that it was like an echo dying away in +the vastness of the night. +</P> + +<P> +A choking note gathered in Baree's throat. He threw up his head. +Straight above him was the Red Moon, inviting him to the thrill and +mystery of the open world. +</P> + +<P> +The sound grew in his throat, and slowly it rose in volume until his +answer was rising to the stars. In their cabin Pierrot and the Willow +heard it. Pierrot shrugged his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"He is gone," he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Oui, he is gone, mon pere" replied Nepeese, peering through the window. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap18"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 18 +</H3> + +<P> +No longer, as in the days of old, did the darkness of the forests hold +a fear for Baree. This night his hunt cry had risen to the stars and +the moon, and in that cry he had, for the first time, sent forth his +defiance of night and space, his warning to all the wild, and his +acceptance of the Brotherhood. In that cry, and the answers that came +back to him, he sensed a new power—the final triumph of nature in +telling him that the forests and the creatures they held were no longer +to be feared, but that all things feared him. Off there, beyond the +pale of the cabin and the influence of Nepeese, were all the things +that the wolf blood in him found now most desirable: companionship of +his kind, the lure of adventure, the red, sweet blood of the chase—and +matehood. This last, after all, was the dominant mystery that was +urging him, and yet least of all did he understand it. +</P> + +<P> +He ran straight into the darkness to the north and west, slinking low +under the bushes, his tail drooping, his ears aslant—the wolf as the +wolf runs on the night trail. The pack had swung due north, and was +traveling faster than he, so that at the end of half an hour he could +no longer hear it. But the lone wolf howl to the west was nearer, and +three times Baree gave answer to it. +</P> + +<P> +At the end of an hour he heard the pack again, swinging southward. +Pierrot would easily have understood. Their quarry had found safety +beyond water, or in a lake, and the muhekuns were on a fresh trail. By +this time not more than a quarter of a mile of the forest separated +Baree from the lone wolf, but the lone wolf was also an old wolf, and +with the directness and precision of long experience, he swerved in the +direction of the hunters, compassing his trail so that he was heading +for a point half or three-quarters of a mile in advance of the pack. +</P> + +<P> +This was a trick of the Brotherhood which Baree had yet to learn; and +the result of his ignorance, and lack of skill, was that twice within +the next half-hour he found himself near to the pack without being able +to join it. Then came a long and final silence. The pack had pulled +down its kill, and in their feasting they made no sound. +</P> + +<P> +The rest of the night Baree wandered alone, or at least until the moon +was well on the wane. He was a long way from the cabin, and his trail +had been an uncertain and twisting one, but he was no longer possessed +with the discomforting sensation of being lost. The last two or three +months had been developing strongly in him the sense of orientation, +that "sixth sense" which guides the pigeon unerringly on its way and +takes a bear straight as a bird might fly to its last year's denning +place. +</P> + +<P> +Baree had not forgotten Nepeese. A dozen times he turned his head back +and whined, and always he picked out accurately the direction in which +the cabin lay. But he did not turn back. As the night lengthened, his +search for that mysterious something which he had not found continued. +His hunger, even with the fading-out of the moon and the coming of the +gray dawn, was not sufficiently keen to make him hunt for food. +</P> + +<P> +It was cold, and it seemed colder when the glow of the moon and stars +died out. Under his padded feet, especially in the open spaces, was a +thick white frost in which he left clearly at times the imprint of his +toes and claws. He had traveled steadily for hours, a great many miles +in all, and he was tired when the first light of the day came. And then +there came the time when, with a sudden sharp click of his jaws, he +stopped like a shot in his tracks. +</P> + +<P> +At last it had come—the meeting with that for which he had been +seeking. It was in a clearing, lighted by the cold dawn—a tiny +amphitheater that lay on the side of a ridge, facing the east. With her +head toward him, and waiting for him as he came out of the shadows, his +scent strong in her keen nose, stood Maheegun, the young wolf. Baree +had not smelled her, but he saw her directly he came out of the rim of +young balsams that fringed the clearing. It was then that he stopped, +and for a full minute neither of them moved a muscle or seemed to +breathe. +</P> + +<P> +There was not a fortnight's difference in their age and yet Maheegun +was much the smaller of the two. Her body was as long, but she was +slimmer; she stood on slender legs that were almost like the legs of a +fox, and the curve of her back was that of a slightly bent bow, a sign +of swiftness almost equal to the wind. She stood poised for flight even +as Baree advanced his first step toward her, and then very slowly her +body relaxed, and in a direct ratio as he drew nearer her ears lost +their alertness and dropped aslant. +</P> + +<P> +Baree whined. His own ears were up, his head alert, his tail aloft and +bushy. Cleverness, if not strategy, had already become a part of his +masculine superiority, and he did not immediately press the affair. He +was within five feet of Maheegun when he casually turned away from her +and faced the east, where a faint penciling of red and gold was +heralding the day. For a few moments he sniffed and looked around and +pointed the wind with much seriousness, as though impressing on his +fair acquaintance—as many a two-legged animal has done before him—his +tremendous importance in the world at large. +</P> + +<P> +And Maheegun was properly impressed. Baree's bluff worked as +beautifully as the bluffs of the two-legged animals. He sniffed the air +with such thrilling and suspicious zeal that Maheegun's ears sprang +alert, and she sniffed it with him. He turned his head from point to +point so sharply and alertly that her feminine curiosity, if not +anxiety, made her turn her own head in questioning conjunction. And +when he whined, as though in the air he had caught a mystery which she +could not possibly understand, a responsive note gathered in her +throat, but smothered and low as a woman's exclamation when she is not +quite sure whether she should interrupt her lord or not. At this sound, +which Baree's sharp ears caught, he swung up to her with a light and +mincing step, and in another moment they were smelling noses. +</P> + +<P> +When the sun rose, half an hour later, it found them still in the small +clearing on the side of the ridge, with a deep fringe of forest under +them, and beyond that a wide, timbered plain which looked like a +ghostly shroud in its mantle of frost. Up over this came the first red +glow of the day, filling the clearing with a warmth that grew more and +more comfortable as the sun crept higher. +</P> + +<P> +Neither Baree nor Maheegun were inclined to move for a while, and for +an hour or two they lay basking in a cup of the slope, looking down +with questing and wide-awake eyes upon the wooded plain that stretched +away under them like a great sea. +</P> + +<P> +Maheegun, too, had sought the hunt pack, and like Baree had failed to +catch it. They were tired, a little discouraged for the time, and +hungry—but still alive with the fine thrill of anticipation, and +restlessly sensitive to the new and mysterious consciousness of +companionship. Half a dozen times Baree got up and nosed about Maheegun +as she lay in the sun, whining to her softly and touching her soft coat +with his muzzle, but for a long time she paid little attention to him. +At last she followed him. All that day they wandered and rested +together. Once more the night came. +</P> + +<P> +It was without moon or stars. Gray masses of clouds swept slowly down +out of the north and east, and in the treetops there was scarcely a +whisper of wind as night gathered in. The snow began to fall at dusk, +thickly, heavily, without a breath of sound. It was not cold, but it +was still—so still that Baree and Maheegun traveled only a few yards +at a time, and then stopped to listen. In this way all the night +prowlers of the forest were traveling, if they were moving at all. It +was the first of the Big Snow. +</P> + +<P> +To the flesh-eating wild things of the forests, clawed and winged, the +Big Snow was the beginning of the winter carnival of slaughter and +feasting, of wild adventure in the long nights, of merciless warfare on +the frozen trails. The days of breeding, of motherhood—the peace of +spring and summer—were over. Out of the sky came the wakening of the +Northland, the call of all flesh-eating creatures to the long hunt, and +in the first thrill of it living things were moving but little this +night, and that watchfully and with suspicion. Youth made it all new to +Baree and Maheegun. Their blood ran swiftly; their feet fell softly; +their ears were attuned to catch the slightest sounds. +</P> + +<P> +In this first of the Big Snow they felt the exciting pulse of a new +life. It lured them on. It invited them to adventure into the white +mystery of the silent storm; and inspired by that restlessness of youth +and its desires, they went on. +</P> + +<P> +The snow grew deeper under their feet. In the open spaces they waded +through it to their knees, and it continued to fall in a vast white +cloud that descended steadily out of the sky. It was near midnight when +it stopped. The clouds drifted away from under the stars and the moon, +and for a long time Baree and Maheegun stood without moving, looking +down from the bald crest of a ridge upon a wonderful world. +</P> + +<P> +Never had they been able to see so far, except in the light of day. +Under them was a plain. They could make out forests, lone trees that +stood up like shadows out of the snow, a stream—still +unfrozen—shimmering like glass with the flicker of firelight on it. +Toward this stream Baree led the way. He no longer thought of Nepeese, +and he whined with pent-up happiness as he stopped halfway down and +turned to muzzle Maheegun. He wanted to roll in the snow and frisk +about with his companion; he wanted to bark, to put up his head and +howl as he had howled at the Red Moon back at the cabin. +</P> + +<P> +Something held him from doing any of these things. Perhaps it was +Maheegun's demeanor. She accepted his attentions rigidly. Once or twice +she had seemed almost frightened; twice Baree had heard the sharp +clicking of her teeth. The previous night, and all through tonight's +storm, their companionship had grown more intimate, but now there was +taking its place a mysterious aloofness on the part of Maheegun. +Pierrot could have explained. With moon and stars above him, Baree, +like the night, had undergone a transformation which even the sunlight +of day had not made in him before. His coat was like polished jet. +Every hair in his body glistened black. BLACK! That was it. And Nature +was trying to tell Maheegun that of all the creatures hated by her +kind, the creature which they feared and hated most was black. With her +it was not experience, but instinct—telling her of the age-old feud +between the gray wolf and the black bear. And Baree's coat, in the +moonlight and the snow, was blacker than Wakayoo's had ever been in the +fish-fattening days of May. Until they struck the broad openings of the +plain, the young she-wolf had followed Baree without hesitation; now +there was a gathering strangeness and indecision in her manner, and +twice she stopped and would have let Baree go on without her. +</P> + +<P> +An hour after they entered the plain there came suddenly out of the +west the tonguing of the wolf pack. It was not far distant, probably +not more than a mile along the foot of the ridge, and the sharp, quick +yapping that followed the first outburst was evidence that the +long-fanged hunters had put up sudden game, a caribou or young moose, +and were close at its heels. At the voice of her own people Maheegun +laid her ears close to her head and was off like an arrow from a bow. +</P> + +<P> +The unexpectedness of her movement and the swiftness of her flight put +Baree well behind her in the race over the plain. She was running +blindly, favored by luck. For an interval of perhaps five minutes the +pack were so near to their game that they made no sound, and the chase +swung full into the face of Maheegun and Baree. The latter was not half +a dozen lengths behind the young wolf when a crashing in the brush +directly ahead stopped them so sharply that they tore up the snow with +their braced forefeet and squat haunches. Ten seconds later a caribou +burst through and flashed across a clearing not more than twenty yards +from where they stood. They could hear its swift panting as it +disappeared. And then came the pack. +</P> + +<P> +At sight of those swiftly moving gray bodies Baree's heart leaped for +an instant into his throat. He forgot Maheegun, and that she had run +away from him. The moon and the stars went out of existence for him. He +no longer sensed the chill of the snow under his feet. He was wolf—all +wolf. With the warm scent of the caribou in his nostrils, and the +passion to kill sweeping through him like fire, he darted after the +pack. +</P> + +<P> +Even at that, Maheegun was a bit ahead of him. He did not miss her. In +the excitement of his first chase he no longer felt the desire to have +her at his side. Very soon he found himself close to the flanks of one +of the gray monsters of the pack. Half a minute later a new hunter +swept in from the bush behind him, and then a second, and after that a +third. At times he was running shoulder to shoulder with his new +companions. He heard the whining excitement in their throats; the snap +of their jaws as they ran—and in the golden moonlight ahead of him the +sound of a caribou as it plunged through thickets and over windfalls in +its race for life. +</P> + +<P> +It was as if Baree had belonged to the pack always. He had joined it +naturally, as other stray wolves had joined it from out of the bush. +There had been no ostentation, no welcome such as Maheegun had given +him in the open, and no hostility. He belonged with these slim, +swift-footed outlaws of the old forests, and his own jaws snapped and +his blood ran hot as the smell of the caribou grew heavier, and the +sound of its crashing body nearer. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed to him they were almost at its heels when they swept into an +open plain, a stretch of barren without a tree or a shrub, brilliant in +the light of the stars and moon. Across its unbroken carpet of snow +sped the caribou a spare hundred yards ahead of the pack. Now the two +leading hunters no longer followed directly in the trail, but shot out +at an angle, one to the right and the other to the left of the pursued, +and like well-trained soldiers the pack split in halves and spread out +fan shape in the final charge. +</P> + +<P> +The two ends of the fan forged ahead and closed in, until the leaders +were running almost abreast of the caribou, with fifty or sixty feet +separating them from the pursued. Thus, adroitly and swiftly, with +deadly precision, the pack had formed a horseshoe cordon of fangs from +which there was but one course of flight—straight ahead. For the +caribou to swerve half a degree to the right or left meant death. It +was the duty of the leaders to draw in the ends of the horseshoe now, +until one or both of them could make the fatal lunge for the +hamstrings. After that it would be a simple matter. The pack would +close in over the caribou like an inundation. +</P> + +<P> +Baree had found his place in the lower rim of the horseshoe, so that he +was fairly well in the rear when the climax came. The plain made a +sudden dip. Straight ahead was the gleam of water—water shimmering +softly in the starglow, and the sight of it sent a final great spurt of +blood through the caribou's bursting heart. Forty seconds would tell +the story—forty seconds of a last spurt for life, of a final +tremendous effort to escape death. Baree felt the sudden thrill of +these moments, and he forged ahead with the others in that lower rim of +the horseshoe as one of the leading wolves made a lunge for the young +bull's hamstring. It was a clean miss. A second wolf darted in. And +this one also missed. +</P> + +<P> +There was no time for others to take their place. From the broken end +of the horseshoe Baree heard the caribou's heavy plunge into water. +When Baree joined the pack, a maddened, mouth-frothing, snarling horde, +Napamoos, the young bull, was well out in the river and swimming +steadily for the opposite shore. +</P> + +<P> +It was then that Baree found himself at the side of Maheegun. She was +panting; her red tongue hung from her open jaws. But at his presence +she brought her fangs together with a snap and slunk from him into the +heart of the wind-run and disappointed pack. The wolves were in an ugly +temper, but Baree did not sense the fact. Nepeese had trained him to +take to water like an otter, and he did not understand why this narrow +river should stop them as it had. He ran down to the water and stood +belly deep in it, facing for an instant the horde of savage beasts +above him, wondering why they did not follow. And he was black—BLACK. +He came among them again, and for the first time they noticed him. +</P> + +<P> +The restless movements of the waters ceased now. A new and wondering +interest held them rigid. Fangs closed sharply. A little in the open +Baree saw Maheegun, with a big gray wolf standing near her. He went to +her again, and this time she remained with flattened ears until he was +sniffing her neck. And then, with a vicious snarl, she snapped at him. +Her teeth sank deep in the soft flesh of his shoulder, and at the +unexpectedness and pain of her attack, he let out a yelp. The next +instant the big gray wolf was at him. +</P> + +<P> +Again caught unexpectedly, Baree went down with the wolf's fangs at his +throat. But in him was the blood of Kazan, the flesh and bone and sinew +of Kazan, and for the first time in his life he fought as Kazan fought +on that terrible day at the top of the Sun Rock. He was young; he had +yet to learn the cleverness and the strategy of the veteran. But his +jaws were like the iron clamps with which Pierrot set his bear traps, +and in his heart was sudden and blinding rage, a desire to kill that +rose above all sense of pain or fear. +</P> + +<P> +That fight, if it had been fair, would have been a victory for Baree, +even in his youth and inexperience. In fairness the pack should have +waited. It was a law of the pack to wait—until one was done for. But +Baree was black. He was a stranger, an interloper, a creature whom they +noticed now in a moment when their blood was hot with the rage and +disappointment of killers who had missed their prey. A second wolf +sprang in, striking Baree treacherously from the flank. And while he +was in the snow, his jaws crushing the foreleg of his first foe, the +pack was on him en masse. +</P> + +<P> +Such an attack on the young caribou bull would have meant death in less +than a minute. Every fang would have found its hold. Baree, by the +fortunate circumstance that he was under his first two assailants and +protected by their bodies, was saved from being torn instantly into +pieces. He knew that he was fighting for his life. Over him the horde +of beasts rolled and twisted and snarled. He felt the burning pain of +teeth sinking into his flesh. He was smothered; a hundred knives seemed +cutting him into pieces; yet no sound—not a whimper or a cry—came +from him now in the horror and hopelessness of it all. +</P> + +<P> +It would have ended in another half-minute had the struggle not been at +the very edge of the bank. Undermined by the erosion of the spring +floods, a section of this bank suddenly gave way, and with it went +Baree and half the pack. In a flash Baree thought of the water and the +escaping caribou. For a bare instant the cave-in had set him free of +the pack, and in that space he gave a single leap over the gray backs +of his enemies into the deep water of the stream. Close behind him half +a dozen jaws snapped shut on empty air. As it had saved the caribou, so +this strip of water shimmering in the glow of the moon and stars had +saved Baree. +</P> + +<P> +The stream was not more than a hundred feet in width, but it cost Baree +close to a losing struggle to get across it. Until he dragged himself +out on the opposite shore, the extent of his injuries was not impressed +upon him fully. One hind leg, for the time, was useless. His forward +left shoulder was laid open to the bone. His head and body were torn +and cut; and as he dragged himself slowly away from the stream, the +trail he left in the snow was a red path of blood. It trickled from his +panting jaws, between which his tongue was bleeding. It ran down his +legs and flanks and belly, and it dripped from his ears, one of which +was slit clean for two inches as though cut with a knife. His instincts +were dazed, his perception of things clouded as if by a veil drawn +close over his eyes. He did not hear, a few minutes later, the howling +of the disappointed wolf horde on the other side of the river, and he +no longer sensed the existence of moon or stars. Half dead, he dragged +himself on until by chance he came to a clump of dwarf spruce. Into +this he struggled, and then he dropped exhausted. +</P> + +<P> +All that night and until noon the next day Baree lay without moving. +The fever burned in his blood. It flamed high and swift toward death; +then it ebbed slowly, and life conquered. At noon he came forth. He was +weak, and he wobbled on his legs. His hind leg still dragged, and he +was racked with pain. But it was a splendid day. The sun was warm; the +snow was thawing; the sky was like a great blue sea; and the floods of +life coursed warmly again through Baree's veins. But now, for all time, +his desires were changed, and his great quest at an end. +</P> + +<P> +A red ferocity grew in Baree's eyes as he snarled in the direction of +last night's fight with the wolves. They were no longer his people. +They were no longer of his blood. Never again could the hunt call lure +him or the voice of the pack rouse the old longing. In him there was a +thing newborn, an undying hatred for the wolf, a hatred that was to +grow in him until it became like a disease in his vitals, a thing ever +present and insistent, demanding vengeance on their kind. Last night he +had gone to them a comrade. Today he was an outcast. Cut and maimed, +bearing with him scars for all time, he had learned his lesson of the +wilderness. Tomorrow, and the next day, and for days after that without +number, he would remember the lesson well. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap19"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 19 +</H3> + +<P> +At the cabin on the Gray Loon, on the fourth night of Baree's absence, +Pierrot was smoking his pipe after a great supper of caribou tenderloin +he had brought in from the trail, and Nepeese was listening to his tale +of the remarkable shot he had made, when a sound at the door +interrupted them. Nepeese opened it, and Baree came in. The cry of +welcome that was on the girl's lips died there instantly, and Pierrot +stared as if he could not quite believe this creature that had returned +was the wolf dog. Three days and nights of hunger in which he could not +hunt because of the leg that dragged had put on him the marks of +starvation. Battle-scarred and covered with dried blood clots that +still clung tenaciously to his long hair, he was a sight that drew at +last a long despairing breath from Nepeese. A queer smile was growing +in Pierrot's face as he leaned forward in his chair. Then slowly rising +to his feet and looking closer, he said to Nepeese: +</P> + +<P> +"Ventre Saint Gris! Oui, he has been to the pack, Nepeese, and the pack +turned on him. It was not a two-wolf fight—non! It was the pack. He is +cut and torn in fifty places. And—mon Dieu, he is alive!" +</P> + +<P> +In Pierrot's voice there was growing wonder and amazement. He was +incredulous, and yet he could not disbelieve what his eyes told him. +What had happened was nothing short of a miracle, and for a time he +uttered not a word more but remained staring in silence while Nepeese +recovered from her astonishment to give Baree doctoring and food. After +he had eaten ravenously of cold boiled mush she began bathing his +wounds in warm water, and after that she soothed them with bear grease, +talking to him all the time in her soft Cree. After the pain and hunger +and treachery of his adventure, it was a wonderful homecoming for +Baree. He slept that night at the foot of the Willow's bed. The next +morning it was the cool caress of his tongue on her hand that awakened +her. +</P> + +<P> +With this day they resumed the comradeship interrupted by Baree's +temporary desertion. The attachment was greater than ever on Baree's +part. It was he who had run away from the Willow, who had deserted her +at the call of the pack, and it seemed at times as though he sensed the +depths of his perfidy and was striving to make amends. There was +indubitably a very great change in him. He clung to Nepeese like a +shadow. Instead of sleeping at night in the spruce shelter Pierrot made +for him, he made himself a little hollow in the earth close to the +cabin door. Pierrot thought that he understood, and Nepeese thought +that she understood even more; but in reality the key to the mystery +remained with Baree himself. He no longer played as he had played +before he went off alone into the forest. He did not chase sticks, or +run until he was winded, for the pure joy of running. His puppyishness +was gone. In its place was a great worship and a rankling bitterness, a +love for the girl and a hatred for the pack and all that it stood for. +Whenever he heard the wolf howl, it brought an angry snarl into his +throat, and he would bare his fangs until even Pierrot would draw a +little away from him. But a touch of the girl's hand would quiet him. +</P> + +<P> +In a week or two the heavier snows came, and Pierrot began making his +trips over the trap lines. Nepeese had entered into an exciting bargain +with him this winter. Pierrot had taken her into partnership. Every +fifth trap, every fifth deadfall, and every fifth poison bait was to be +her own, and what they caught or killed was to bring a bit nearer to +realization a wonderful dream that was growing in the Willow's heart. +Pierrot had promised. If they had great luck that winter, they would go +down together on the last snows to Nelson House and buy the little old +organ that was for sale there. And if the organ was sold, they would +work another winter, and get a new one. +</P> + +<P> +This plan gave Nepeese an enthusiastic and tireless interest in the +trap line. With Pierrot it was more or less a fine bit of strategy. He +would have sold his hand to give Nepeese the organ. He was determined +that she should have it, whether the fifth traps and the fifth +deadfalls and fifth poison baits caught the fur or not. The partnership +meant nothing so far as the actual returns were concerned. But in +another way it meant to Nepeese a business interest, the thrill of +personal achievement. Pierrot impressed on her that it made a comrade +and coworker of her on the trail. His scheme was to keep her with him +when he was away from the cabin. He knew that Bush McTaggart would come +again to the Gray Loon, probably more than once during the winter. He +had swift dogs, and it was a short journey. And when McTaggart came, +Nepeese must not be at the cabin—alone. +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot's trap line swung into the north and west, covering in all a +matter of fifty miles, with an average of two traps, one deadfall, and +a poison bait to each mile. It was a twisting line blazed along streams +for mink, otter, and marten, piercing the deepest forests for fishercat +and lynx and crossing lakes and storm-swept strips of barrens where +poison baits could be set for fox and wolf. Halfway over this line +Pierrot had built a small log cabin, and at the end of it another, so +that a day's work meant twenty-five miles. This was easy for Pierrot, +and not hard on Nepeese after the first few days. +</P> + +<P> +All through October and November they made the trips regularly, making +the round every six days, which gave one day of rest at the cabin on +the Gray Loon and another day in the cabin at the end of the trail. To +Pierrot the winter's work was business, the labor of his people for +many generations back. To Nepeese and Baree it was a wild and joyous +adventure that never for a day grew tiresome. Even Pierrot could not +quite immunize himself against their enthusiasm. It was infectious, and +he was happier than he had been since his sun had set that evening the +princess mother died. +</P> + +<P> +They were glorious months. Fur was thick, and it was steadily cold +without any bad storms. Nepeese not only carried a small pack on her +shoulders in order that Pierrot's load might be lighter, but she +trained Baree to bear tiny shoulder panniers which she manufactured. In +these panniers Baree carried the bait. In at least a third of the total +number of traps set there was always what Pierrot called +trash—rabbits, owls, whisky jacks, jays, and squirrels. These, with +the skin or feathers stripped off, made up the bulk of the bait for the +traps ahead. +</P> + +<P> +One afternoon early in December, as they were returning to the Gray +Loon, Pierrot stopped suddenly a dozen paces ahead of Nepeese and +stared at the snow. A strange snowshoe trail had joined their own and +was heading toward the cabin. For half a minute Pierrot was silent and +scarcely moved a muscle as he stared. The trail came straight out of +the north—and off there was Lac Bain. +</P> + +<P> +Also they were the marks of large snowshoes, and the stride indicated +was that of a tall man. Before Pierrot had spoken, Nepeese had guessed +what they meant. "M'sieu the Factor from Lac Bain!" she said. +</P> + +<P> +Baree was sniffing suspiciously at the strange trail. They heard the +low growl in his throat, and Pierrot's shoulders stiffened. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, the m'sieu," he said. +</P> + +<P> +The Willow's heart beat more swiftly as they went on. She was not +afraid of McTaggart, not physically afraid. And yet something rose up +in her breast and choked her at the thought of his presence on the Gray +Loon. Why was he there? It was not necessary for Pierrot to answer the +question, even had she given voice to it. She knew. The factor from Lac +Bain had no business there—except to see her. The blood burned red in +her cheeks as she thought again of that minute on the edge of the chasm +when he had almost crushed her in his arms. Would he try that again? +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot, deep in his own somber thoughts, scarcely heard the strange +laugh that came suddenly from her lips. Nepeese was listening to the +growl that was again in Baree's throat. It was a low but terrible +sound. When half a mile from the cabin, she unslung the panniers from +his shoulders and carried them herself. Ten minutes later they saw a +man advancing to meet them. +</P> + +<P> +It was not McTaggart. Pierrot recognized him, and with an audible +breath of relief waved his hand. It was DeBar, who trapped in the +Barren Country north of Lac Bain. Pierrot knew him well. They had +exchanged fox poison. They were friends, and there was pleasure in the +grip of their hands. DeBar stared then at Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +"Tonnerre, she has grown into a woman!" he cried, and like a woman +Nepeese looked at him straight, with the color deepening in her cheeks, +as he bowed low with a courtesy that dated back a couple of centuries +beyond the trap line. +</P> + +<P> +DeBar lost no time in explaining his mission, and before they reached +the cabin Pierrot and Nepeese knew why he had come. M'sieu, the factor +at Lac Bain, was leaving on a journey in five days, and he had sent +DeBar as a special messenger to request Pierrot to come up to assist +the clerk and the half-breed storekeeper in his absence. Pierrot made +no comment at first. But he was thinking. Why had Bush McTaggart sent +for HIM? Why had he not chosen some one nearer? Not until a fire was +crackling in the sheet-iron stove in the cabin, and Nepeese was busily +engaged getting supper, did he voice these questions to the fox hunter. +</P> + +<P> +DeBar shrugged his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"He asked me, at first, if I could stay. But I have a wife with a bad +lung, Pierrot. It was caught by frost last winter, and I dare not leave +her long alone. He has great faith in you. Besides, you know all the +trappers on the company's books at Lac Bain. So he sent for you, and +begs you not to worry about your fur lines, as he will pay you double +what you would catch in the time you are at the Post." +</P> + +<P> +"And—Nepeese?" said Pierrot. "M'sieu expects me to bring her?" +</P> + +<P> +From the stove the Willow bent her head to listen, and her heart leaped +free again at DeBar's answer. +</P> + +<P> +"He said nothing about that. But surely—it will be a great change for +li'le m'selle." +</P> + +<P> +Pierrot nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"Possibly, Netootam." +</P> + +<P> +They discussed the matter no more that night. But for hours Pierrot was +still, thinking, and a hundred times he asked himself that same +question: Why had McTaggart sent for him? He was not the only man well +known to the trappers on the company's books. There was Wassoon, for +instance, the half-breed Scandinavian whose cabin was less than four +hours' journey from the Post—or Baroche, the white-bearded old +Frenchman who lived yet nearer and whose word was as good as the Bible. +It must be, he told himself finally, that M'sieu had sent for HIM +because he wanted to win over the father of Nepeese and gain the +friendship of Nepeese herself. For this was undoubtedly a very great +honor that the factor was conferring on him. +</P> + +<P> +And yet, deep down in his heart, he was filled with suspicion. When +DeBar was about to leave the next morning, Pierrot said: +</P> + +<P> +"Tell m'sieu that I will leave for Lac Bain the day after tomorrow." +</P> + +<P> +After DeBar had gone, he said to Nepeese: +</P> + +<P> +"And you shall remain here, ma cherie. I will not take you to Lac Bain. +I have had a dream that m'sieu will not go on a journey, but that he +has lied, and that he will be SICK when I arrive at the Post. And yet, +if it should happen that you care to go—" +</P> + +<P> +Nepeese straightened suddenly, like a reed that has been caught by the +wind. +</P> + +<P> +"Non!" she cried, so fiercely that Pierrot laughed, and rubbed his +hands. +</P> + +<P> +So it happened that on the second day after the fox hunter's visit +Pierrot left for Lac Bain, with Nepeese in the door waving him good-bye +until he was out of sight. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +On the morning of this same day Bush McTaggart rose from his bed while +it was still dark. The time had come. He had hesitated at murder—at +the killing of Pierrot; and in his hesitation he had found a better +way. There could be no escape for Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +It was a wonderful scheme, so easy of accomplishment, so inevitable in +its outcome. And all the time Pierrot would think he was away to the +east on a mission! +</P> + +<P> +He ate his breakfast before dawn, and was on the trail before it was +yet light. Purposely he struck due east, so that in coming up from the +south and west Pierrot would not strike his sledge tracks. For he had +made up his mind now that Pierrot must never know and must never have a +suspicion, even though it cost him so many more miles to travel that he +would not reach the Gray Loon until the second day. It was better to be +a day late, after all, as it was possible that something might have +delayed Pierrot. So he made no effort to travel fast. +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart took a vast amount of brutal satisfaction in anticipating +what was about to happen, and he reveled in it to the full. There was +no chance for disappointment. He was positive that Nepeese would not +accompany her father to Lac Bain. She would be at the cabin on the Gray +Loon—alone. +</P> + +<P> +This aloneness to Nepeese was burdened with no thought of danger. There +were times, now, when the thought of being alone was pleasant to her, +when she wanted to dream by herself, when she visioned things into the +mysteries of which she would not admit even Pierrot. She was growing +into womanhood—just the sweet, closed bud of womanhood as yet—still a +girl with the soft velvet of girlhood in her eyes, yet with the mystery +of woman stirring gently in her soul, as if the Great Hand were +hesitating between awakening her and letting her sleep a little longer. +At these times, when the opportunity came to steal hours by herself, +she would put on the red dress and do up her wonderful hair as she saw +it in the pictures of the magazines Pierrot had sent up twice a year +from Nelson House. +</P> + +<P> +On the second day of Pierrot's absence Nepeese dressed herself like +this, but today she let her hair cascade in a shining glory about her, +and about her forehead bound a circlet of red ribbon. She was not yet +done. Today she had marvelous designs. On the wall close to her mirror +she had tacked a large page from a woman's magazine, and on this page +was a lovely vision of curls. Fifteen hundred miles north of the sunny +California studio in which the picture had been taken, Nepeese, with +pouted red lips and puckered forehead, was struggling to master the +mystery of the other girl's curls! +</P> + +<P> +She was looking into her mirror, her face flushed and her eyes aglow in +the excitement of the struggle to fashion one of the coveted ringlets +from a tress that fell away below her hips, when the door opened behind +her, and Bush McTaggart walked in. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap20"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 20 +</H3> + +<P> +The Willow's back was toward the door when the factor from Lac Bain +entered the cabin, and for a few startled seconds she did not turn. Her +first thought was of Pierrot—for some reason he had returned. But even +as this thought came to her, she heard in Baree's throat a snarl that +brought her suddenly to her feet, facing the door. +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart had not entered unprepared. He had left his pack, his gun, +and his heavy coat outside. He was standing with his back against the +door; and at Nepeese—in her wonderful dress and flowing hair—he was +staring as if stunned for a space at what he saw. Fate, or accident, +was playing against the Willow now. If there had been a spark of +slumbering chivalry, of mercy, even, in Bush McTaggart's soul, it was +extinguished by what he saw. Never had Nepeese looked more beautiful, +not even on that day when MacDonald the map maker had taken her +picture. The sun, flooding through the window, lighted up her marvelous +hair. Her flushed face was framed in its lustrous darkness like a +tinted cameo. He had dreamed, but he had pictured nothing like this +woman who stood before him now, her eyes widening with fear and the +flush leaving her face even as he looked at her. +</P> + +<P> +It was not a long interval in which their eyes met in that terrible +silence. Words were unnecessary. At last she understood—understood +what her peril had been that day at the edge of the chasm and in the +forest, when fearlessly she had played with the menace that was +confronting her now. +</P> + +<P> +A breath that was like a sob broke from her lips. +</P> + +<P> +"M'sieu!" she tried to say. But it was only a gasp—an effort. +</P> + +<P> +Plainly she heard the click of the iron bolt as it locked the door. +McTaggart advanced a step. +</P> + +<P> +Only a single step McTaggart advanced. On the floor Baree had remained +like something carved out of stone. He had not moved. He had not made a +sound but that one warning snarl—until McTaggart took the step. And +then, like a flash, he was up and in front of Nepeese, every hair of +his body on end; and at the fury in his growl McTaggart lunged back +against the barred door. A word from Nepeese in that moment, and it +would have been over. But an instant was lost—an instant before her +cry came. In that moment man's hand and brain worked swifter than brute +understanding; and as Baree launched himself at the factor's throat, +there came a flash and a deafening explosion almost in the Willow's +eyes. +</P> + +<P> +It was a chance shot, a shot from the hip with McTaggart's automatic. +Baree fell short. He struck the floor with a thud and rolled against +the log wall. There was not a kick or a quiver left in his body. +McTaggart laughed nervously as he shoved his pistol back in its +holster. He knew that only a brain shot could have done that. +</P> + +<P> +With her back against the farther wall, Nepeese was waiting. McTaggart +could hear her panting breath. He advanced halfway to her. +</P> + +<P> +"Nepeese, I have come to make you my wife," he said. +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer. He could see that her breath was choking her. She +raised a hand to her throat. He took two more steps, and stopped. He +had never seen such eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"I have come to make you my wife, Nepeese. Tomorrow you will go on to +Nelson House with me, and then back to Lac Bain—forever." He added the +last word as an afterthought. "Forever," he repeated. +</P> + +<P> +He did not mince words. His courage and his determination rose as he +saw her body droop a little against the wall. She was powerless. There +was no escape. Pierrot was gone. Baree was dead. +</P> + +<P> +He had thought that no living creature could move as swiftly as the +Willow when his arms reached out for her. She made no sound as she +darted under one of his outstretched arms. He made a lunge, a savage +grab, and his fingers caught a bit of hair. He heard the snap of it as +she tore herself free and flew to the door. She had thrown back the +bolt when he caught her and his arms closed about her. He dragged her +back, and now she cried out—cried out in her despair for Pierrot, for +Baree, for some miracle of God that might save her. +</P> + +<P> +And Nepeese fought. She twisted in his arms until she was facing him. +She could no longer see. She was smothered in her own hair. It covered +her face and breast and body, suffocating her, entangling her hands and +arms—and still she fought. In the struggle McTaggart stumbled over the +body of Baree, and they went down. Nepeese was up fully five seconds +ahead of the man. She could have reached the door. But again it was her +hair. She paused to fling back the thick masses of it so that she could +see, and McTaggart was at the door ahead of her. +</P> + +<P> +He did not lock it again, but stood facing her. His face was scratched +and bleeding. He was no longer a man but a devil. Nepeese was broken, +panting—a low sobbing came with every breath. She bent down, and +picked up a piece of firewood. McTaggart could see that her strength +was almost gone. +</P> + +<P> +She clutched the stick as he approached her again. But McTaggart had +lost all thought of fear or caution. He sprang upon her like an animal. +The stick of firewood fell. And again fate played against the girl. In +her terror and hopelessness she had caught up the first stick her hand +had touched—a light one. With her last strength she hurled it at +McTaggart, and as it struck his head, he staggered back. But it did not +make him loose his hold. +</P> + +<P> +Vainly she was fighting now, not to strike him or to escape, but to get +her breath. She tried to cry out again, but this time no sound came +from between her gasping lips. +</P> + +<P> +Again he laughed, and as he laughed, he heard the door open. Was it the +wind? He turned, still holding her in his arms. +</P> + +<P> +In the open door stood Pierrot. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap21"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 21 +</H3> + +<P> +During that terrible interval which followed an eternity of time passed +slowly through the little cabin on the Gray Loon—that eternity which +lies somewhere between life and death and which is sometimes meted out +to a human life in seconds instead of years. +</P> + +<P> +In those seconds Pierrot did not move from where he stood in the +doorway. McTaggart, encumbered with the weight in his arms, and staring +at Pierrot, did not move. But the Willow's eyes were opening. And at +the same moment a convulsive quiver ran through the body of Baree, +where he lay near the wall. There was not the sound of a breath. And +then, in that silence, a great gasping sob came from Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +Then Pierrot stirred to life. Like McTaggart, he had left his coat and +mittens outside. He spoke, and his voice was not like Pierrot's. It was +a strange voice. +</P> + +<P> +"The great God has sent me back in time, m'sieu," he said. "I, too, +traveled by way of the east, and saw your trail where it turned this +way." +</P> + +<P> +No, that was not like Pierrot's voice! A chill ran through McTaggart +now, and slowly he let go of Nepeese. She fell to the floor. Slowly he +straightened. +</P> + +<P> +"Is it not true, m'sieu?" said Pierrot again. "I have come in time?" +</P> + +<P> +What power was it—what great fear, perhaps, that made McTaggart nod +his head, that made his thick lips form huskily the words, "Yes—in +time." And yet it was not fear. It was something greater, something +more all-powerful than that. And Pierrot said, in that same strange +voice: +</P> + +<P> +"I thank the great God!" +</P> + +<P> +The eyes of madman met the eyes of madman now. Between them was death. +Both saw it. Both thought that they saw the direction in which its bony +finger pointed. Both were certain. McTaggart's hand did not go to the +pistol in his holster, and Pierrot did not touch the knife in his belt. +When they came together, it was throat to throat—two beasts now, +instead of one, for Pierrot had in him the fury and strength of the +wolf, the cat, and the panther. +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart was the bigger and heavier man, a giant in strength; yet in +the face of Pierrot's fury he lurched back over the table and went down +with a crash. Many times in his life he had fought, but he had never +felt a grip at his throat like the grip of Pierrot's hands. They almost +crushed the life from him at once. His neck snapped—a little more, and +it would have broken. He struck out blindly, and twisted himself to +throw off the weight of the half-breed's body. But Pierrot was fastened +there, as Sekoosew the ermine had fastened itself at the jugular of the +partridge, and Bush McTaggart's jaws slowly swung open, and his face +began to turn from red to purple. +</P> + +<P> +Cold air rushing through the door, Pierrot's voice and the sound of +battle roused Nepeese quickly to consciousness and the power to raise +herself from the floor. She had fallen near Baree, and as she lifted +her head, her eyes rested for a moment on the dog before they went to +the fighting men. Baree was alive! His body was twitching; his eyes +were open. He made an effort to raise his head as she was looking at +him. +</P> + +<P> +Then she dragged herself to her knees and turned to the men, and +Pierrot, even in the blood-red fury of his desire to kill, must have +heard the sharp cry of joy that came from her when she saw that it was +the factor from Lac Bain who was underneath. With a tremendous effort +she staggered to her feet, and for a few moments she stood swaying +unsteadily as her brain and her body readjusted themselves. Even as she +looked down upon the blackening face from which Pierrot's fingers were +choking the life, Bush McTaggart's hand was groping blindly for his +pistol. He found it. Unseen by Pierrot, he dragged it from its holster. +It was one of the black devils of chance that favored him again, for in +his excitement he had not snapped the safety shut after shooting Baree. +Now he had only strength left to pull the trigger. Twice his forefinger +closed. Twice there came deadened explosion close to Pierrot's body. +</P> + +<P> +In Pierrot's face Nepeese saw what had happened. Her heart died in her +breast as she looked upon the swift and terrible change wrought by +sudden death. Slowly Pierrot straightened. His eyes were wide for a +moment—wide and staring. He made no sound. She could not see his lips +move. And then he fell toward her, so that McTaggart's body was free. +Blindly and with an agony that gave no evidence in cry or word she +flung herself down beside her father. He was dead. +</P> + +<P> +How long Nepeese lay there, how long she waited for Pierrot to move, to +open his eyes, to breathe, she would never know. In that time McTaggart +rose to his feet and stood leaning against the wall, the pistol in his +hand, his brain clearing itself as he saw his final triumph. His work +did not frighten him. Even in that tragic moment as he stood against +the wall, his defense—if it ever came to a defense—framed itself in +his mind. Pierrot had murderously assaulted him—without cause. In +self-defense he had killed him. Was he not the Factor of Lac Bain? +Would not the company and the law believe his word before that of this +girl? His brain leaped with the old exultation. It would never come to +that—to a betrayal of this struggle and death in the cabin—after he +had finished with her! She would not be known for all time as La Bete +Noir. No, they would bury Pierrot, and she would return to Lac Bain +with him. If she had been helpless before, she was ten times more +helpless now. She would never tell of what had happened in the cabin. +</P> + +<P> +He forgot the presence of death as he looked at her, bowed over her +father so that her hair covered him like a silken-shroud. He replaced +the pistol in its holster and drew a deep breath into his lungs. He was +still a little unsteady on his feet, but his face was again the face of +a devil. He took a step, and it was then there came a sound to rouse +the girl. In the shadow of the farther wall Baree had struggled to his +haunches, and now he growled. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly Nepeese lifted her head. A power which she could not resist drew +her eyes up until she was looking into the face of Bush McTaggart. She +had almost lost consciousness of his presence. Her senses were cold and +deadened—it was as if her own heart had stopped beating along with +Pierrot's. What she saw in the factor's face dragged her out of the +numbness of her grief back into the shadow of her own peril. He was +standing over her. In his face there was no pity, nothing of horror at +what he had done—only an insane exultation as he looked—not at +Pierrot's dead body, but at her. He put out a hand, and it rested on +her head. She felt his thick fingers crumpling her hair, and his eyes +blazed like embers of fire behind watery films. She struggled to rise, +but with his hands at her hair he held her down. +</P> + +<P> +"Great God!" she breathed. +</P> + +<P> +She uttered no other words, no plea for mercy, no other sound but a +dry, hopeless sob. In that moment neither of them heard or saw Baree. +Twice in crossing the cabin his hindquarters had sagged to the floor. +Now he was close to McTaggart. He wanted to give a single lunge to the +man-brute's back and snap his thick neck as he would have broken a +caribou bone. But he had no strength. He was still partially paralyzed +from his foreshoulder back. But his jaws were like iron, and they +closed savagely on McTaggart's leg. +</P> + +<P> +With a yell of pain the factor released his hold on the Willow, and she +staggered to her feet. For a precious half-minute she was free, and as +the factor kicked and struck to loose Baree's hold, she ran to the +cabin door and out into the day. The cold air struck her face. It +filled her lungs with new strength; and without thought of where hope +might lie she ran through the snow into the forest. +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart appeared at the door just in time to see her disappear. His +leg was torn where Baree had fastened his fangs, but he felt no pain as +he ran in pursuit of the girl. She could not go far. An exultant cry, +inhuman as the cry of a beast, came in a great breath from his gaping +mouth as he saw that she was staggering weakly as she fled. He was +halfway to the edge of the forest when Baree dragged himself over the +threshold. His jaws were bleeding where McTaggart had kicked him again +and again before his fangs gave way. Halfway between his ears was a +seared spot, as if a red-hot poker had been laid there for an instant. +This was where McTaggart's bullet had gone. A quarter of an inch +deeper, and it would have meant death. As it was, it had been like the +blow of a heavy club, paralyzing his senses and sending him limp and +unconscious against the wall. He could move on his feet now without +falling, and slowly he followed in the tracks of the man and the girl. +</P> + +<P> +As she ran, Nepeese's mind became all at once clear and reasoning. She +turned into the narrow trail over which McTaggart had followed her once +before, but just before reaching the chasm, she swung sharply to the +right. She could see McTaggart. He was not running fast, but was +gaining steadily, as if enjoying the sight of her helplessness, as he +had enjoyed it in another way on that other day. Two hundred yards +below the deep pool into which she had pushed the factor—just beyond +the shallows out of which he had dragged himself to safety—was the +beginning of Blue Feather's Gorge. An appalling thing was shaping +itself in her mind as she ran to it—a thing that with each gasping +breath she drew became more and more a great and glorious hope. At last +she reached it and looked down. And as she looked, there whispered up +out of her soul and trembled on her lips the swan song of her mother's +people. +</P> + +<P> +Our fathers—come! Come from out of the valley. Guide us—for today we +die, And the winds whisper of death! +</P> + +<P> +She had raised her arms. Against the white wilderness beyond the chasm +she stood tall and slim. Fifty yards behind her the factor from Lac +Bain stopped suddenly in his tracks. "Ah," he mumbled. "Is she not +wonderful!" And behind McTaggart, coming faster and faster, was Baree. +</P> + +<P> +Again the Willow looked down. She was at the edge, for she had no fear +in this hour. Many times she had clung to Pierrot's hand as she looked +over. Down there no one could fall and live. Fifty feet below her the +water which never froze was smashing itself into froth among the rocks. +It was deep and black and terrible, for between the narrow rock walls +the sun did not reach it. The roar of it filled the Willow's ears. +</P> + +<P> +She turned and faced McTaggart. +</P> + +<P> +Even then he did not guess, but came toward her again, his arms +stretched out ahead of him. Fifty yards! It was not much, and +shortening swiftly. +</P> + +<P> +Once more the Willow's lips moved. After all, it is the mother soul +that gives us faith to meet eternity—and it was to the spirit of her +mother that the Willow called in the hour of death. With the call on +her lips she plunged into the abyss, her wind-whipped hair clinging to +her in a glistening shroud. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap22"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 22 +</H3> + +<P> +A moment later the factor from Lac Bain stood at the edge of the chasm. +His voice had called out in a hoarse bellow—a wild cry of disbelief +and horror that had formed the Willow's name as she disappeared. He +looked down, clutching his huge red hands and staring in ghastly +suspense at the boiling water and black rocks far below. There was +nothing there now—no sign of her, no last flash of her pale face and +streaming hair in the white foam. And she had done THAT—to save +herself from him! +</P> + +<P> +The soul of the man-beast turned sick within him, so sick that he +staggered back, his vision blinded and his legs tottering under him. He +had killed Pierrot, and it had been a triumph. All his life he had +played the part of the brute with a stoicism and cruelty that had known +no shock—nothing like this that overwhelmed him now, numbing him to +the marrow of his bones until he stood like one paralyzed. He did not +see Baree. He did not hear the dog's whining cries at the edge of the +chasm. For a few moments the world turned black for him. And then, +dragging himself out of his stupor, he ran frantically along the edge +of the gorge, looking down wherever his eyes could see the water, +striving for a glimpse of her. At last it grew too deep. There was no +hope. She was gone—and she had faced that to escape him! +</P> + +<P> +He mumbled that fact over and over again, stupidly, thickly, as though +his brain could grasp nothing beyond it. She was dead. And Pierrot was +dead. And he, in a few minutes, had accomplished it all. +</P> + +<P> +He turned back toward the cabin—not by the trail over which he had +pursued Nepeese, but straight through the thick bush. Great flakes of +snow had begun to fall. He looked at the sky, where banks of dark +clouds were rolling up from the south and east. The sun disappeared. +Soon there would be a storm—a heavy snowstorm. The big flakes falling +on his naked hands and face set his mind to work. It was lucky for him, +this storm. It would cover everything—the fresh trails, even the grave +he would dig for Pierrot. +</P> + +<P> +It does not take such a man as the factor long to recover from a moral +concussion. By the time he came in sight of the cabin his mind was +again at work on physical things—on the necessities of the situation. +The appalling thing, after all, was not that both Pierrot and Nepeese +were dead, but that his dream was shattered. It was not that Nepeese +was dead, but that he had lost her. This was his vital disappointment. +The other thing—his crime—it was easy to destroy all traces of that. +</P> + +<P> +It was not sentiment that made him dig Pierrot's grave close to the +princess mother's under the tall spruce. It was not sentiment that made +him dig the grave at all, but caution. He buried Pierrot decently. Then +he poured Pierrot's stock of kerosene where it would be most effective +and touched a match to it. He stood in the edge of the forest until the +cabin was a mass of flames. The snow was falling thickly. The freshly +made grave was a white mound, and the trails were filling up with new +snow. For the physical things he had done there was no fear in Bush +McTaggart's heart as he turned back toward Lac Bain. No one would ever +look into the grave of Pierrot Du Quesne. And there was no one to +betray him if such a miracle happened. But of one thing his black soul +would never be able to free itself. Always he would see the pale, +triumphant face of the Willow as she stood facing him in that moment of +her glory when, even as she was choosing death rather than him, he had +cried to himself: "Ah! Is she not wonderful!" +</P> + +<P> +As Bush McTaggart had forgotten Baree, so Baree had forgotten the +factor from Lac Bain. When McTaggart had run along the edge of the +chasm, Baree had squatted himself in the trodden plot of snow where +Nepeese had last stood, his body stiffened and his forefeet braced as +he looked down. He had seen her take the leap. Many times that summer +he had followed her in her daring dives into the deep, quiet water of +the pool. But this was a tremendous distance. She had never dived into +a place like that before. He could see the black shapes of the rocks, +appearing and disappearing in the whirling foam like the heads of +monsters at play. The roar of the water filled him with dread. His eyes +caught the swift rush of crumbled ice between the rock walls. And she +had gone down there! +</P> + +<P> +He had a great desire to follow her, to jump in, as he had always +jumped in after her in previous times. She was surely down there, even +though he could not see her. Probably she was playing among the rocks +and hiding herself in the white froth and wondering why he didn't come. +But he hesitated—hesitated with his head and neck over the abyss, and +his forefeet giving way a little in the snow. With an effort he dragged +himself back and whined. He caught the fresh scent of McTaggart's +moccasins in the snow, and the whine changed slowly into a long snarl. +He looked over again. Still he could not see her. He barked—the short, +sharp signal with which he always called her. There was no answer. +Again and again he barked, and always there was nothing but the roar of +the water that came back to him. Then for a few moments he stood back, +silent and listening, his body shivering with the strange dread that +was possessing him. +</P> + +<P> +The snow was falling now, and McTaggart had returned to the cabin. +After a little Baree followed in the trail he had made along the edge +of the chasm, and wherever McTaggart had stopped to peer over, Baree +paused also. For a space his hatred of the man was lost in his desire +to join the Willow, and he continued along the gorge until, a quarter +of a mile beyond where the factor had last looked into it, he came to +the narrow trail down which he and Nepeese had many time adventured in +quest of rock violets. The twisting path that led down the face of the +cliff was filled with snow now, but Baree made his way through it until +at last he stood at the edge of the unfrozen torrent. Nepeese was not +here. He whined, and barked again, but this time there was in his +signal to her an uneasy repression, a whimpering note which told that +he did not expect a reply. For five minutes after that he sat on his +haunches in the snow, stolid as a rock. What it was that came down out +of the dark mystery and tumult of the chasm to him, what spirit +whispers of nature that told him the truth, it is beyond the power of +reason to explain. But he listened, and he looked; and his muscles +twitched as the truth grew in him. And at last he raised his head +slowly until his black muzzle pointed to the white storm in the sky, +and out of his throat there went forth the quavering, long-drawn howl +of the husky who mourns outside the tepee of a master who is newly dead. +</P> + +<P> +On the trail, heading for Lac Bain, Bush McTaggart heard that cry and +shivered. +</P> + +<P> +It was the smell of smoke, thickening in the air until it stung his +nostrils, that drew Baree at last away from the chasm and back to the +cabin. There was not much left when he came to the clearing. Where the +cabin had been was a red-hot, smoldering mass. For a long time he sat +watching it, still waiting and still listening. He no longer felt the +effect of the bullet that had stunned him, but his senses were +undergoing another change now, as strange and unreal as their struggle +against that darkness of near death in the cabin. In a space that had +not covered more than an hour the world had twisted itself grotesquely +for Baree. That long ago the Willow was sitting before her little +mirror in the cabin, talking to him and laughing in her happiness, +while he lay in vast contentment on the floor. And now there was no +cabin, no Nepeese, no Pierrot. Quietly he struggled to comprehend. It +was some time before he moved from under the thick balsams, for already +a deep and growing suspicion began to guide his movements. He did not +go nearer to the smoldering mass of the cabin, but slinking low, made +his way about the circle of the clearing to the dog corral. This took +him under the tall spruce. For a full minute he paused here, sniffing +at the freshly made mound under its white mantle of snow. When he went +on, he slunk still lower, and his ears were flat against his head. +</P> + +<P> +The dog corral was open and empty. McTaggart had seen to that. Again +Baree squatted back on his haunches and sent forth the death howl. This +time it was for Pierrot. In it there was a different note from that of +the howl he had sent forth from the chasm: it was positive, certain. In +the chasm his cry had been tempered with doubt—a questioning hope, +something that was so almost human that McTaggart had shivered on the +trail. But Baree knew what lay in that freshly dug snow-covered grave. +A scant three feet of earth could not hide its secret from him. There +was death—definite and unequivocal. But for Nepeese he was still +hoping and seeking. +</P> + +<P> +Until noon he did not go far from the site of the cabin, but only once +did he actually approach and sniff about the black pile of steaming +timbers. Again and again he circled the edge of the clearing, keeping +just within the bush and timber, sniffing the air and listening. Twice +he went hack to the chasm. Late in the afternoon there came to him a +sudden impulse that carried him swiftly through the forest. He did not +run openly now. Caution, suspicion, and fear had roused in him afresh +the instincts of the wolf. With his ears flattened against the side of +his head, his tail drooping until the tip of it dragged the snow and +his back sagging in the curious, evasive gait of the wolf, he scarcely +made himself distinguishable from the shadows of the spruce and balsams. +</P> + +<P> +There was no faltering in the trail Baree made; it was straight as a +rope might have been drawn through the forest, and it brought him, +early in the dusk, to the open spot where Nepeese had fled with him +that day she had pushed McTaggart over the edge of the precipice into +the pool. In the place of the balsam shelter of that day there was now +a watertight birchbark tepee which Pierrot had helped the Willow to +make during the summer. Baree went straight to it and thrust in his +head with a low and expectant whine. +</P> + +<P> +There was no answer. It was dark and cold in the tepee. He could make +out indistinctly the two blankets that were always in it, the row of +big tin boxes in which Nepeese kept their stores, and the stove which +Pierrot had improvised out of scraps of iron and heavy tin. But Nepeese +was not there. And there was no sign of her outside. The snow was +unbroken except by his own trail. It was dark when he returned to the +burned cabin. All that night he hung about the deserted dog corral, and +all through the night the snow fell steadily, so that by dawn he sank +into it to his shoulders when he moved out into the clearing. +</P> + +<P> +But with day the sky had cleared. The sun came up, and the world was +almost too dazzling for the eyes. It warmed Baree's blood with new hope +and expectation. His brain struggled even more eagerly than yesterday +to comprehend. Surely the Willow would be returning soon! He would hear +her voice. She would appear suddenly out of the forest. He would +receive some signal from her. One of these things, or all of them, must +happen. He stopped sharply in his tracks at every sound, and sniffed +the air from every point of the wind. He was traveling ceaselessly. His +body made deep trails in the snow around and over the huge white mound +where the cabin had stood. His tracks led from the corral to the tall +spruce, and they were as numerous as the footprints of a wolf pack for +half a mile up and down the chasm. +</P> + +<P> +On the afternoon of this day the second strong impulse came to him. It +was not reason, and neither was it instinct alone. It was the struggle +halfway between, the brute mind righting at its best with the mystery +of an intangible thing—something that could not be seen by the eye or +heard by the ear. Nepeese was not in the cabin, because there was no +cabin. She was not at the tepee. He could find no trace of her in the +chasm. She was not with Pierrot under the big spruce. +</P> + +<P> +Therefore, unreasoning but sure, he began to follow the old trap line +into the north and west. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap23"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 23 +</H3> + +<P> +No man has ever looked clearly into the mystery of death as it is +impressed upon the senses of the northern dog. It comes to him, +sometimes, with the wind. Most frequently it must come with the wind, +and yet there are ten thousand masters in the northland who will swear +that their dogs have given warning of death hours before it actually +came; and there are many of these thousands who know from experience +that their teams will stop a quarter or half a mile from a strange +cabin in which there lies unburied dead. +</P> + +<P> +Yesterday Baree had smelled death, and he knew without process of +reasoning that the dead was Pierrot. How he knew this, and why he +accepted the fact as inevitable, is one of the mysteries which at times +seems to give the direct challenge to those who concede nothing more +than instinct to the brute mind. He knew that Pierrot was dead without +exactly knowing what death was. But of one thing he was sure: he would +never see Pierrot again. He would never hear his voice again; he would +never hear again the swish-swish-swish of his snowshoes in the trail +ahead, and so on the trap line he did not look for Pierrot. Pierrot was +gone forever. But Baree had not yet associated death with Nepeese. He +was filled with a great uneasiness. What came to him from out of the +chasm had made him tremble with fear and suspense. He sensed the thrill +of something strange, of something impending, and yet even as he had +given the death howl in the chasm, it must have been for Pierrot. For +he believed that Nepeese was alive, and he was now just as sure that he +would overtake her on the trap line as he was positive yesterday that +he would find her at the birchbark tepee. +</P> + +<P> +Since yesterday morning's breakfast with the Willow, Baree had gone +without eating. To appease his hunger meant to hunt, and his mind was +too filled with his quest of Nepeese for that. He would have gone +hungry all that day, but in the third mile from the cabin he came to a +trap in which there was a big snowshoe rabbit. The rabbit was still +alive, and he killed it and ate his fill. Until dark he did not miss a +trap. In one of them there was a lynx; in another a fishercat. Out on +the white surface of a lake he sniffed at a snowy mound under which lay +the body of a red fox killed by one of Pierrot's poison baits. Both the +lynx and the fishercat were alive, and the steel chains of their traps +clanked sharply as they prepared to give Baree battle. But Baree was +uninterested. He hurried on, his uneasiness growing as the day darkened +and he found no sign of the Willow. +</P> + +<P> +It was a wonderfully clear night after the storm—cold and brilliant, +with the shadows standing out as clearly as living things. The third +suggestion came to Baree now. He was, like all animals, largely of one +idea at a time—a creature with whom all lesser impulses were governed +by a single leading impulse. And this impulse, in the glow of the +starlit night, was to reach as quickly as possible the first of +Pierrot's two cabins on the trap line. There he would find Nepeese! +</P> + +<P> +We won't call the process by which Baree came to this conclusion a +process of reasoning. Instinct or reasoning, whatever it was, a fixed +and positive faith came to Baree just the same. He began to miss the +traps in his haste to cover distance—to reach the cabin. It was +twenty-five miles from Pierrot's burned home to the first trap cabin, +and Baree had made ten of these by nightfall. The remaining fifteen +were the most difficult. In the open spaces the snow was belly-deep and +soft. Frequently he plunged through drifts in which for a few moments +he was buried. Three times during the early part of the night Baree +heard the savage dirge of the wolves. Once it was a wild paean of +triumph as the hunters pulled down their kill less than half a mile +away in the deep forest. But the voice no longer called to him. It was +repellent—a voice of hatred and of treachery. Each time that he heard +it he stopped in his tracks and snarled, while his spine stiffened. +</P> + +<P> +At midnight Baree came to the tiny amphitheater in the forest where +Pierrot had cut the logs for the first of his trapline cabins. For at +least a minute Baree stood at the edge of the clearing, his ears very +alert, his eyes bright with hope and expectation, while he sniffed the +air. There was no smoke, no sound, no light in the one window of the +log shack. His disappointment fell on him even as he stood there. Again +he sensed the fact of his aloneness, of the barrenness of his quest. +There was a disheartened slouch to his door. He had traveled +twenty-five miles, and he was tired. +</P> + +<P> +The snow was drifted deep at the doorway, and here Baree sat down and +whined. It was no longer the anxious, questing whine of a few hours +ago. Now it voiced hopelessness and a deep despair. For half an hour he +sat shivering with his back to the door and his face to the starlit +wilderness, as if there still remained the fleeting hope that Nepeese +might follow after him over the trail. Then he burrowed himself a hole +deep in the snowdrift and passed the remainder of the night in uneasy +slumber. +</P> + +<P> +With the first light of day Baree resumed the trail. He was not so +alert this morning. There was the disconsolate droop to his tail which +the Indians call the Akoosewin—the sign of the sick dog. And Baree was +sick—not of body but of soul. The keenness of his hope had died, and +he no longer expected to find the Willow. The second cabin at the far +end of the trap line drew him on, but it inspired in him none of the +enthusiasm with which he had hurried to the first. He traveled slowly +and spasmodically, his suspicions of the forests again replacing the +excitement of his quest. He approached each of Pierrot's traps and the +deadfalls cautiously, and twice he showed his fangs—once at a marten +that snapped at him from under a root where it had dragged the trap in +which it was caught, and the second time at a big snowy owl that had +come to steal bait and was now a prisoner at the end of a steel chain. +It may be that Baree thought it was Oohoomisew and that he still +remembered vividly the treacherous assault and fierce battle of that +night when, as a puppy, he was dragging his sore and wounded body +through the mystery and fear of the big timber. For he did more than to +show his fangs. He tore the owl into pieces. +</P> + +<P> +There were plenty of rabbits in Pierrot's traps, and Baree did not go +hungry. He reached the second trap-line cabin late in the afternoon, +after ten hours of traveling. He met with no very great disappointment +here, for he had not anticipated very much. The snow had banked this +cabin even higher than the other. It lay three feet deep against the +door, and the window was white with a thick coating of frost. At this +place, which was close to the edge of a big barren, and unsheltered by +the thick forests farther back, Pierrot had built a shelter for his +firewood, and in this shelter Baree made his temporary home. All the +next day he remained somewhere near the end of the trap line, skirting +the edge of the barren and investigating the short side line of a dozen +traps which Pierrot and Nepeese had strung through a swamp in which +there had been many signs of lynx. It was the third day before he set +out on his return to the Gray Loon. +</P> + +<P> +He did not travel very fast, spending two days in covering the +twenty-five miles between the first and the second trap-line cabins. At +the second cabin he remained for three days, and it was on the ninth +day that he reached the Gray Loon. There was no change. There were no +tracks in the snow but his own, made nine days ago. +</P> + +<P> +Baree's quest for Nepeese became now more or less involuntary, a sort +of daily routine. For a week he made his burrow in the dog corral, and +at least twice between dawn and darkness he would go to the birchbark +tepee and the chasm. His trail, soon beaten hard in the snow, became as +fixed as Pierrot's trap line. It cut straight through the forest to the +tepee, swinging slightly to the east so that it crossed the frozen +surface of the Willow's swimming pool. From the tepee it swung in a +circle through a part of the forest where Nepeese had frequently +gathered armfuls of crimson fireflowers, and then to the chasm. Up and +down the edge of the gorge it went, down into the little cup at the +bottom of the chasm, and thence straight back to the dog corral. +</P> + +<P> +And then, of a sudden, Baree made a change. He spent a night in the +tepee. After that, whenever he was at the Gray Loon, during the day he +always slept in the tepee. The two blankets were his bed—and they were +a part of Nepeese. And there, all through the long winter, he waited. +</P> + +<P> +If Nepeese had returned in February and could have taken him unaware, +she would have found a changed Baree. He was more than ever like a +wolf; yet he never gave the wolf howl now, and always he snarled deep +in his throat when he heard the cry of the pack. For several weeks the +old trap line had supplied him with meat, but now he hunted. The tepee, +in and out, was scattered with fur and bones. Once—alone—he caught a +young deer in deep snow and killed it. Again, in the heart of a fierce +February storm, he pursued a bull caribou so closely that it plunged +over a cliff and broke its neck. He lived well, and in size and +strength he was growing swiftly into a giant of his kind. In another +six months he would be as large as Kazan, and his jaws were almost as +powerful, even now. +</P> + +<P> +Three times that winter Baree fought—once with a lynx that sprang down +upon him from a windfall while he was eating a freshly killed rabbit, +and twice with two lone wolves. The lynx tore him unmercifully before +it fled into the windfall. The younger of the wolves he killed; the +other fight was a draw. More and more he became an outcast, living +alone with his dreams and his smoldering hopes. +</P> + +<P> +And Baree did dream. Many times, as he lay in the tepee, he would hear +the voice of Nepeese. He would hear her sweet voice calling, her +laughter, the sound of his name, and often he would start up to his +feet—the old Baree for a thrilling moment or two—only to lie down in +his nest again with a low, grief-filled whine. And always when he heard +the snap of a twig or some other sound in the forest, it was thought of +Nepeese that flashed first into his brain. Some day she would return. +That belief was a part of his existence as much as the sun and the moon +and the stars. +</P> + +<P> +The winter passed, and spring came, and still Baree continued to haunt +his old trails, even going now and then over the old trap line as far +as the first of the two cabins. The traps were rusted and sprung now; +the thawing snow disclosed bones and feathers between their jaws. Under +the deadfalls were remnants of fur, and out on the ice of the lakes +were picked skeletons of foxes and wolves that had taken the poison +baits. The last snow went. The swollen streams sang in the forests and +canyons. The grass turned green, and the first flowers came. +</P> + +<P> +Surely this was the time for Nepeese to come home! He watched for her +expectantly. He went still more frequently to their swimming pool in +the forest, and he hung closely to the burned cabin and the dog corral. +Twice he sprang into the pool and whined as he swam about, as though +she surely must join him in their old water frolic. And now, as the +spring passed and summer came, there settled upon him slowly the gloom +and misery of utter hopelessness. The flowers were all out now, and +even the bakneesh vines glowed like red fire in the woods. Patches of +green were beginning to hide the charred heap where the cabin had +stood, and the blue-flower vines that covered the princess mother's +grave were reaching out toward Pierrot's, as if the princess mother +herself were the spirit of them. +</P> + +<P> +All these things were happening, and the birds had mated and nested, +and still Nepeese did not come! And at last something broke inside of +Baree, his last hope, perhaps, his last dream; and one day he bade +good-bye to the Gray Loon. +</P> + +<P> +No one can say what it cost him to go. No one can say how he fought +against the things that were holding him to the tepee, the old swimming +pool, the familiar paths in the forest, and the two graves that were +not so lonely now under the tall spruce. He went. He had no +reason—simply went. It may be that there is a Master whose hand guides +the beast as well as the man, and that we know just enough of this +guidance to call it instinct. For, in dragging himself away, Baree +faced the Great Adventure. +</P> + +<P> +It was there, in the north, waiting for him—and into the north he went. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap24"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 24 +</H3> + +<P> +It was early in August when Baree left the Gray Loon. He had no +objective in view. But there was still left upon his mind, like the +delicate impression of light and shadow on a negative, the memories of +his earlier days. Things and happenings that he had almost forgotten +recurred to him now, as his trail led him farther and farther away from +the Gray Loon. And his earlier experiences became real again, pictures +thrown out afresh in his mind by the breaking of the last ties that +held him to the home of the Willow. Involuntarily he followed the trail +of these impressions—of these past happenings, and slowly they helped +to build up new interests for him. +</P> + +<P> +A year in his life was a long time—a decade of man's experience. It +was more than a year ago that he had left Kazan and Gray Wolf and the +old windfall, and yet now there came back to him indistinct memories of +those days of his earliest puppyhood, of the stream into which he had +fallen, and of his fierce battle with Papayuchisew. It was his later +experiences that roused the older memories. He came to the blind canyon +up which Nepeese and Pierrot had chased him. That seemed but yesterday. +He entered the little meadow, and stood beside the great rock that had +almost crushed the life out of the Willow's body; and then he +remembered where Wakayoo, his big bear friend, had died under Pierrot's +rifle—and he smelled of Wakayoo's whitened bones where they lay +scattered in the green grass, with flowers growing up among them. +</P> + +<P> +A day and night he spent in the little meadow before he went back out +of the canyon and into his old haunts along the creek, where Wakayoo +had fished for him. There was another bear here now, and he also was +fishing. Perhaps he was a son or a grandson of Wakayoo. Baree smelled +where he had made his fish caches, and for three days he lived on fish +before he struck out for the North. +</P> + +<P> +And now, for the first time in many weeks, a bit of the old-time +eagerness put speed into Baree's feet. Memories that had been hazy and +indistinct through forgetfulness were becoming realities again, and as +he would have returned to the Gray Loon had Nepeese been there so now, +with something of the feeling of a wanderer going home, he returned to +the old beaver pond. +</P> + +<P> +It was that most glorious hour of a summer's day—sunset—when he +reached it. He stopped a hundred yards away, with the pond still hidden +from his sight, and sniffed the air, and listened. The POND was there. +He caught the cool, honey smell of it. But Umisk, and Beaver Tooth, and +all the others? Would he find them? He strained his ears to catch a +familiar sound, and after a moment or two it came—a hollow splash in +the water. +</P> + +<P> +He went quietly through the alders and stood at last close to the spot +where he had first made the acquaintance of Umisk. The surface of the +pond was undulating slightly, two or three heads popped up. He saw the +torpedolike wake of an old beaver towing a stick close to the opposite +shore. He looked toward the dam, and it was as he had left it almost a +year ago. He did not show himself for a time, but stood concealed in +the young alders. He felt growing in him more and more a feeling of +restfulness, a relaxation from the long strain of the lonely months +during which he had waited for Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +With a long breath he lay down among the alders, with his head just +enough exposed to give him a clear view. As the sun settled lower the +pond became alive. Out on the shore where he had saved Umisk from the +fox came another generation of young beavers—three of them, fat and +waddling. Very softly Baree whined. +</P> + +<P> +All that night he lay in the alders. The beaver pond became his home +again. Conditions were changed, of course, and as days grew into weeks +the inhabitants of Beaver Tooth's colony showed no signs of accepting +the grown-up Baree as they had accepted the baby Baree of long ago. He +was big, black, and wolfish now—a long-fanged and formidable-looking +creature, and though he offered no violence he was regarded by the +beavers with a deep-seated feeling of fear and suspicion. +</P> + +<P> +On the other hand, Baree no longer felt the old puppyish desire to play +with the baby beavers, so their aloofness did not trouble him as in +those other days. Umisk was grown up, too, a fat and prosperous young +buck who was just taking unto himself this year a wife, and who was at +present very busy gathering his winter's rations. It is entirely +probable that he did not associate the big black beast he saw now and +then with the little Baree with whom he had smelled noses once upon a +time, and it is quite likely that Baree did not recognize Umisk except +as a part of the memories that had remained with him. +</P> + +<P> +All through the month of August Baree made the beaver pond his +headquarters. At times his excursions kept him away for two or three +days at a time. These journeys were always into the north, sometimes a +little east and sometimes a little west, but never again into the +south. And at last, early in September, he left the beaver pond for +good. +</P> + +<P> +For many days his wanderings carried him in no one particular +direction. He followed the hunting, living chiefly on rabbits and that +simple-minded species of partridge known as the "fool hen." This diet, +of course, was given variety by other things as they happened to come +his way. Wild currants and raspberries were ripening, and Baree was +fond of these. He also liked the bitter berries of the mountain ash, +which, along with the soft balsam and spruce pitch which he licked with +his tongue now and then, were good medicine for him. In shallow water +he occasionally caught a fish. Now and then he hazarded a cautious +battle with a porcupine, and if he was successful he feasted on the +tenderest and most luscious of all the flesh that made up his menu. +</P> + +<P> +Twice in September he killed young deer. The big "burns" that he +occasionally came to no longer held terrors for him; in the midst of +plenty he forgot the days in which he had gone hungry. In October he +wandered as far west as the Geikie River, and then northward to +Wollaston Lake, which was a good hundred miles north of the Gray Loon. +The first week in November he turned south again, following the Canoe +River for a distance, and then swinging westward along a twisting creek +called The Little Black Bear with No Tail. +</P> + +<P> +More than once during these weeks Baree came into touch with man, but, +with the exception of the Cree hunter at the upper end of Wollaston +Lake, no man had seen him. Three times in following the Geikie he lay +crouched in the brush while canoes passed. Half a dozen times, in the +stillness of night, he nosed about cabins and tepees in which there was +life, and once he came so near to the Hudson's Bay Company post at +Wollaston that he could hear the barking of dogs and the shouting of +their masters. +</P> + +<P> +And always he was seeking—questing for the thing that had gone out of +his life. At the thresholds of the cabins he sniffed; outside of the +tepees he circled close, gathering the wind. The canoes he watched with +eyes in which there was a hopeful gleam. Once he thought the wind +brought him the scent of Nepeese, and all at once his legs grew weak +under his body and his heart seemed to stop beating. It was only for a +moment or two. She came out of the tepee—an Indian girl with her hands +full of willow work—and Baree slunk away unseen. +</P> + +<P> +It was almost December when Lerue, a half-breed from Lac Bain, saw +Baree's footprints in freshly fallen snow, and a little later caught a +flash of him in the bush. +</P> + +<P> +"Mon Dieu, I tell you his feet are as big as my hand, and he is as +black as a raven's wing with the sun on it!" he exclaimed in the +company's store at Lac Bain. "A fox? Non! He is half as big as a bear. +A wolf—oui! And black as the devil, m'sieus." +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart was one of those who heard. He was putting his signature in +ink to a letter he had written to the company when Lerue's words came +to him. His hand stopped so suddenly that a drop of ink spattered on +the letter. Through him there ran a curious shiver as he looked over at +the half-breed. Just then Marie came in. McTaggart had brought her back +from her tribe. Her big, dark eyes had a sick look in them, and some of +her wild beauty had gone since a year ago. +</P> + +<P> +"He was gone like—that!" Lerue was saying, with a snap of his fingers. +He saw Marie, and stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"Black, you say?" McTaggart said carelessly, without lifting his eyes +from his writing. "Did he not bear some dog mark?" +</P> + +<P> +Lerue shrugged his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"He was gone like the wind, m'sieu. But he was a wolf." +</P> + +<P> +With scarcely a sound that the others could hear Marie had whispered +into the factor's ear, and folding his letter McTaggart rose quickly +and left the store. He was gone an hour. Lerue and the others were +puzzled. It was not often that Marie came into the store. It was not +often that they saw her at all. She remained hidden in the factor's log +house, and each time that he saw her Lerue thought that her face was a +little thinner than the last, and her eyes bigger and hungrier looking. +In his own heart there was a great yearning. +</P> + +<P> +Many a night he passed the little window beyond which he knew that she +was sleeping. Often he looked to catch a glimpse of her pale face, and +he lived in the one happiness of knowing that Marie understood, and +that into her eyes there came for an instant a different light when +their glances met. No one else knew. The secret lay between them—and +patiently Lerue waited and watched. "Some day," he kept saying to +himself—"Some day"—and that was all. The one word carried a world of +meaning and of hope. When that day came he would take Marie straight to +the missioner over at Fort Churchill, and they would be married. It was +a dream—a dream that made the long days and the longer nights on the +trap line patiently endured. Now they were both slaves to the +environing Power. But—some day— +</P> + +<P> +Lerue was thinking of this when McTaggart returned at the end of the +hour. The factor came straight up to where the half dozen of them were +seated about the big box stove, and with a grunt of satisfaction shook +the freshly fallen snow from his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"Pierre Eustach has accepted the Government's offer and is going to +guide that map-making party up into the Barrens this winter," he +announced. "You know, Lerue—he has a hundred and fifty traps and +deadfalls set, and a big poison-bait country. A good line, eh? And I +have leased it of him for the season. It will give me the outdoor work +I need—three days on the trail, three days here. Eh, what do you say +to the bargain?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is good," said Lerue. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, it is good," said Roget. +</P> + +<P> +"A wide fox country," said Mons Roule. +</P> + +<P> +"And easy to travel," murmured Valence in a voice that was almost like +a woman's. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap25"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 25 +</H3> + +<P> +The trap line of Pierre Eustach ran thirty miles straight west of Lac +Bain. It was not as long a line as Pierrot's had been, but it was like +a main artery running through the heart of a rich fur country. It had +belonged to Pierre Eustach's father, and his grandfather, and his +great-grandfather, and beyond that it reached, Pierre averred, back to +the very pulse of the finest blood in France. The books at McTaggart's +Post went back only as far as the great-grandfather end of it, the +older evidence of ownership being at Churchill. It was the finest game +country between Reindeer Lake and the Barren Lands. It was in December +that Baree came to it. +</P> + +<P> +Again he was traveling southward in a slow and wandering fashion, +seeking food in the deep snows. The Kistisew Kestin, or Great Storm, +had come earlier than usual this winter, and for a week after it +scarcely a hoof or claw was moving. Baree, unlike the other creatures, +did not bury himself in the snow and wait for the skies to clear and +crust to form. He was big, and powerful, and restless. Less than two +years old, he weighed a good eighty pounds. His pads were broad and +wolfish. His chest and shoulders were like a Malemute's, heavy and yet +muscled for speed. He was wider between the eyes than the wolf-breed +husky, and his eyes were larger, and entirely clear of the Wuttooi, or +blood film, that marks the wolf and also to an extent the husky. His +jaws were like Kazan's, perhaps even more powerful. +</P> + +<P> +Through all that week of the Big Storm he traveled without food. There +were four days of snow, with driving blizzards and fierce winds, and +after that three days of intense cold in which every living creature +kept to its warm dugout in the snow. Even the birds had burrowed +themselves in. One might have walked on the backs of caribou and moose +and not have guessed it. Baree sheltered himself during the worst of +the storm but did not allow the snow to gather over him. +</P> + +<P> +Every trapper from Hudson's Bay to the country of the Athabasca knew +that after the Big Storm the famished fur animals would be seeking +food, and that traps and deadfalls properly set and baited stood the +biggest chance of the year of being filled. Some of them set out over +their trap lines on the sixth day; some on the seventh, and others on +the eighth. It was on the seventh day that Bush McTaggart started over +Pierre Eustach's line, which was now his own for the season. It took +him two days to uncover the traps, dig the snow from them, rebuild the +fallen "trap houses," and rearrange the baits. On the third day he was +back at Lac Bain. +</P> + +<P> +It was on this day that Baree came to the cabin at the far end of +McTaggart's line. McTaggart's trail was fresh in the snow about the +cabin, and the instant Baree sniffed of it every drop of blood in his +body seemed to leap suddenly with a strange excitement. It took perhaps +half a minute for the scent that filled his nostrils to associate +itself with what had gone before, and at the end of that half-minute +there rumbled in Baree's chest a deep and sullen growl. For many +minutes after that he stood like a black rock in the snow, watching the +cabin. +</P> + +<P> +Then slowly he began circling about it, drawing nearer and nearer, +until at last he was sniffing at the threshold. No sound or smell of +life came from inside, but he could smell the old smell of McTaggart. +Then he faced the wilderness—the direction in which the trap line ran +back to Lac Bain. He was trembling. His muscles twitched. He whined. +Pictures were assembling more and more vividly in his mind—the fight +in the cabin, Nepeese, the wild chase through the snow to the chasm's +edge—even the memory of that age-old struggle when McTaggart had +caught him in the rabbit snare. In his whine there was a great +yearning, almost expectation. Then it died slowly away. After all, the +scent in the snow was of a thing that he had hated and wanted to kill, +and not of anything that he had loved. For an instant nature had +impressed on him the significance of associations—a brief space only, +and then it was gone. The whine died away, but in its place came again +that ominous growl. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly he followed the trail and a quarter of a mile from the cabin +struck the first trap on the line. Hunger had caved in his sides until +he was like a starved wolf. In the first trap house McTaggart had +placed as bait the hindquarter of a snowshoe rabbit. Baree reached in +cautiously. He had learned many things on Pierrot's line: he had +learned what the snap of a trap meant. He had felt the cruel pain of +steel jaws; he knew better than the shrewdest fox what a deadfall would +do when the trigger was sprung—and Nepeese herself had taught him that +he was never to touch a poison bait. So he closed his teeth gently in +the rabbit flesh and drew it forth as cleverly as McTaggart himself +could have done. He visited five traps before dark, and ate the five +baits without springing a pan. The sixth was a deadfall. He circled +about this until he had beaten a path in the snow. Then he went on into +a warm balsam swamp and found himself a bed for the night. +</P> + +<P> +The next day saw the beginning of the struggle that was to follow +between the wits of man and beast. To Baree the encroachment of Bush +McTaggart's trap line was not war; it was existence. It was to furnish +him food, as Pierrot's line had furnished him food for many weeks. But +he sensed the fact that in this instance he was lawbreaker and had an +enemy to outwit. Had it been good hunting weather he might have gone +on, for the unseen hand that was guiding his wanderings was drawing him +slowly but surely back to the old beaver pond and the Gray Loon. As it +was, with the snow deep and soft under him—so deep that in places he +plunged into it over his ears—McTaggart's trap line was like a trail +of manna made for his special use. +</P> + +<P> +He followed in the factor's snowshoe tracks, and in the third trap +killed a rabbit. When he had finished with it nothing but the hair and +crimson patches of blood lay upon the snow. Starved for many days, he +was filled with a wolfish hunger, and before the day was over he had +robbed the bait from a full dozen of McTaggart's traps. Three times he +struck poison baits—venison or caribou fat in the heart of which was a +dose of strychnine, and each time his keen nostrils detected the +danger. Pierrot had more than once noted the amazing fact that Baree +could sense the presence of poison even when it was most skillfully +injected into the frozen carcass of a deer. Foxes and wolves ate of +flesh from which his supersensitive power of detecting the presence of +deadly danger turned him away. +</P> + +<P> +So he passed Bush McTaggart's poisoned tidbits, sniffing them on the +way, and leaving the story of his suspicion in the manner of his +footprints in the snow. Where McTaggart had halted at midday to cook +his dinner Baree made these same cautious circles with his feet. +</P> + +<P> +The second day, being less hungry and more keenly alive to the hated +smell of his enemy, Baree ate less but was more destructive. McTaggart +was not as skillful as Pierre Eustach in keeping the scent of his hands +from the traps and "houses," and every now and then the smell of him +was strong in Baree's nose. This wrought in Baree a swift and definite +antagonism, a steadily increasing hatred where a few days before hatred +was almost forgotten. +</P> + +<P> +There is, perhaps, in the animal mind a process of simple computation +which does not quite achieve the distinction of reason, and which is +not altogether instinct, but which produces results that might be +ascribed to either. Baree did not add two and two together to make +four. He did not go back step by step to prove to himself that the man +to whom this trap line belonged was the cause of all hit, griefs and +troubles—but he DID find himself possessed of a deep and yearning +hatred. McTaggart was the one creature except the wolves that he had +ever hated. It was McTaggart who had hurt him, McTaggart who had hurt +Pierrot, McTaggart who had made him lose his beloved Nepeese—AND +McTAGGART WAS HERE ON THIS TRAP LINE! If he had been wandering before, +without object or destiny, he was given a mission now. It was to keep +to the traps. To feed himself. And to vent his hatred and his vengeance +as he lived. +</P> + +<P> +The second day, in the center of a lake, he came upon the body of a +wolf that had died of one of the poison baits. For a half-hour he +mauled the dead beast until its skin was torn into ribbons. He did not +taste the flesh. It was repugnant to him. It was his vengeance on the +wolf breed. He stopped when he was half a dozen miles from Lac Bain, +and turned back. At this particular point the line crossed a frozen +stream beyond which was an open plain, and over that plain came—when +the wind was right—the smoke and smell of the Post. The second night +Baree lay with a full stomach in a thicket of banksian pine; the third +day he was traveling westward over the trap line again. +</P> + +<P> +Early on this morning Bush McTaggart started out to gather his catch, +and where he crossed the stream six miles from Lac Bain he first saw +Baree's tracks. He stopped to examine them with sudden and unusual +interest, falling at last on his knees, whipping off the glove from his +right hand, and picking up a single hair. +</P> + +<P> +"The black wolf!" +</P> + +<P> +He uttered the words in an odd, hard voice, and involuntarily his eyes +turned straight in the direction of the Gray Loon. After that, even +more carefully than before, he examined one of the clearly impressed +tracks in the snow. When he rose to his feet there was in his face the +look of one who had made an unpleasant discovery. +</P> + +<P> +"A black wolf!" he repeated, and shrugged his shoulders. "Bah! Lerue is +a fool. It is a dog." And then, after a moment, he muttered in a voice +scarcely louder than a whisper, "HER DOG." +</P> + +<P> +He went on, traveling in the trail of the dog. A new excitement +possessed him that was more thrilling than the excitement of the hunt. +Being human, it was his privilege to add two and two together, and out +of two and two he made—Baree. There was little doubt in his mind. The +thought had flashed on him first when Lerue had mentioned the black +wolf. He was convinced after his examination of the tracks. They were +the tracks of a dog, and the dog was black. Then he came to the first +trap that had been robbed of its bait. +</P> + +<P> +Under his breath he cursed. The bait was gone, and the trap was +unsprung. The sharpened stick that had transfixed the bait was pulled +out clean. +</P> + +<P> +All that day Bush McTaggart followed a trail where Baree had left +traces of his presence. Trap after trap he found robbed. On the lake he +came upon the mangled wolf. From the first disturbing excitement of his +discovery of Baree's presence his humor changed slowly to one of rage, +and his rage increased as the day dragged out. He was not unacquainted +with four-footed robbers of the trap line, but usually a wolf or a fox +or a dog who had grown adept in thievery troubled only a few traps. But +in this case Baree was traveling straight from trap to trap, and his +footprints in the snow showed that he had stopped at each one. There +was, to McTaggart, almost a human devilishness to his work. He evaded +the poisons. Not once did he stretch his head or paw within the danger +zone of a deadfall. For apparently no reason whatever he had destroyed +a splendid mink, whose glossy fur lay scattered in worthless bits over +the snow. Toward the end of the day McTaggart came to a deadfall in +which a lynx had died. Baree had torn the silvery flank of the animal +until the skin was of less than half value. McTaggart cursed aloud, and +his breath came hot. +</P> + +<P> +At dusk he reached the shack Pierre Eustach had built midway of his +line, and took inventory of his fur. It was not more than a third of a +catch; the lynx was half-ruined, a mink was torn completely in two. The +second day he found still greater ruin, still more barren traps. He was +like a madman. When he arrived at the second cabin, late in the +afternoon, Baree's tracks were not an hour old in the snow. Three times +during the night he heard the dog howling. +</P> + +<P> +The third day McTaggart did not return to Lac Bain, but began a +cautious hunt for Baree. An inch or two of fresh snow had fallen, and +as if to take even greater measure of vengeance from his man enemy +Baree had left his footprints freely within a radius of a hundred yards +of the cabin. It was half an hour before McTaggart could pick out the +straight trail, and he followed it for two hours into a thick banksian +swamp. Baree kept with the wind. Now and then he caught the scent of +his pursuer. A dozen times he waited until the other was so close he +could hear the snap of brush, or the metallic click of twigs against +his rifle barrel. And then, with a sudden inspiration that brought the +curses afresh to McTaggart's lips, he swung in a wide circle and cut +straight back for the trap line. When the factor reached the line, +along toward noon, Baree had already begun his work. He had killed and +eaten a rabbit. He had robbed three traps within the distance of a +mile, and he was headed again straight over the trap line for Post Lac +Bain. +</P> + +<P> +It was the fifth day that Bush McTaggart returned to his post. He was +in an ugly mood. Only Valence of the four Frenchmen was there, and it +was Valence who heard his story, and afterward heard him cursing Marie. +She came into the store a little later, big-eyed and frightened, one of +her cheeks flaming red where McTaggart had struck her. While the +storekeeper was getting her the canned salmon McTaggart wanted for his +dinner Valence found the opportunity to whisper softly in her ear: +</P> + +<P> +"M'sieu Lerue has trapped a silver fox," he said with low triumph. "He +loves you, cherie, and he will have a splendid catch by spring—and +sends you this message from his cabin up on The Little Black Bear with +No Tail: BE READY TO FLY WHEN THE SOFT SNOWS COME!" +</P> + +<P> +Marie did not look at him, but she heard, and her eyes shone so like +stars when the young storekeeper gave her the salmon that he said to +Valence, when she had gone: +</P> + +<P> +"Blue Death, but she is still beautiful at times. Valence!" +</P> + +<P> +To which Valence nodded with an odd smile. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap26"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 26 +</H3> + +<P> +By the middle of January the war between Baree and Bush McTaggart had +become more than an incident—more than a passing adventure to the +beast, and more than an irritating happening to the man. It was, for +the time, the elemental raison d'etre of their lives. Baree hung to the +trap line. He haunted it like a devastating specter, and each time that +he sniffed afresh the scent of the factor from Lac Bain he was +impressed still more strongly with the instinct that he was avenging +himself upon a deadly enemy. Again and again he outwitted McTaggart. He +continued to strip his traps of their bait and the humor grew in him +more strongly to destroy the fur he came across. His greatest pleasure +came to be—not in eating—but in destroying. +</P> + +<P> +The fires of his hatred burned fiercer as the weeks passed, until at +last he would snap and tear with his long fangs at the snow where +McTaggart's feet had passed. And all of the time, away back of his +madness, there was a vision of Nepeese that continued to grow more and +more clearly in his brain. That first Great Loneliness—the loneliness +of the long days and longer nights of his waiting and seeking on the +Gray Loon, oppressed him again as it had oppressed him in the early +days of her disappearance. On starry or moonlit nights he sent forth +his wailing cries for her again, and Bush McTaggart, listening to them +in the middle of the night, felt strange shivers run up his spine. The +man's hatred was different than the beast's, but perhaps even more +implacable. With McTaggart it was not hatred alone. There was mixed +with it an indefinable and superstitious fear, a thing he laughed at, a +thing he cursed at, but which clung to him as surely as the scent of +his trail clung to Baree's nose. Baree no longer stood for the animal +alone; HE STOOD FOR NEPEESE. That was the thought that insisted in +growing in McTaggart's ugly mind. Never a day passed now that he did +not think of the Willow; never a night came and went without a +visioning of her face. +</P> + +<P> +He even fancied, on a certain night of storm, that he heard her voice +out in the wailing of the wind—and less than a minute later he heard +faintly a distant howl out in the forest. That night his heart was +filled with a leaden dread. He shook himself. He smoked his pipe until +the cabin was blue. He cursed Baree, and the storm—but there was no +longer in him the bullying courage of old. He had not ceased to hate +Baree; he still hated him as he had never hated a man, but he had an +even greater reason now for wanting to kill him. It came to him first +in his sleep, in a restless dream, and after that it lived, and +lived—THE THOUGHT THAT THE SPIRIT OF NEPEESE WAS GUIDING BAREE IN THE +RAVAGING OF HIS TRAP LINE! +</P> + +<P> +After a time he ceased to talk at the Post about the Black Wolf that +was robbing his line. The furs damaged by Baree's teeth he kept out of +sight, and to himself he kept his secret. He learned every trick and +scheme of the hunters who killed foxes and wolves along the Barrens. He +tried three different poisons, one so powerful that a single drop of it +meant death. He tried strychnine in gelatin capsules, in deer fat, +caribou fat, moose liver, and even in the flesh of porcupine. At last, +in preparing his poisons, he dipped his hands in beaver oil before he +handled the venoms and flesh so that there could be no human smell. +Foxes, wolves, and even the mink and ermine died of these baits, but +Baree came always so near—and no nearer. In January McTaggart poisoned +every bait in his trap houses. This produced at least one good result +for him. From that day Baree no longer touched his baits, but ate only +the rabbits he killed in the traps. +</P> + +<P> +It was in January that McTaggart caught his first glimpse of Baree. He +had placed his rifle against a tree, and was a dozen feet away from it +at the time. It was as if Baree knew, and had come to taunt him. For +when the factor suddenly looked up Baree was standing out clear from +the dwarf spruce not twenty yards away from him, his white fangs +gleaming and his eyes burning like coals. For a space McTaggart stared +as if turned into stone. It was Baree. He recognized the white star, +the white-tipped ear, and his heart thumped like a hammer in his +breast. Very slowly he began to creep toward his rifle. His hand was +reaching for it when like a flash Baree was gone. +</P> + +<P> +This gave McTaggart his new idea. He blazed himself a fresh trail +through the forests parallel with his trap line but at least five +hundred yards distant from it. Wherever a trap or deadfall was set this +new trail struck sharply in, like the point of a V, so that he could +approach his line unobserved. By this strategy he believed that in time +he was sure of getting a shot at the dog. +</P> + +<P> +Again it was the man who was reasoning, and again it was the man who +was defeated. The first day that McTaggart followed his new trail Baree +also struck that trail. For a little while it puzzled him. Three times +he cut back and forth between the old and the new trail. Then there was +no doubt. The new trail was the FRESH trail, and he followed in the +footsteps of the factor from Lac Bain. McTaggart did not know what was +happening until his return trip, when he saw the story told in the +snow. Baree had visited each trap, and without exception he had +approached each time at the point of the inverted V. After a week of +futile hunting, of lying in wait, of approaching at every point of the +wind—a period during which McTaggart had twenty times cursed himself +into fits of madness, another idea came to him. It was like an +inspiration, and so simple that it seemed almost inconceivable that he +had not thought of it before. +</P> + +<P> +He hurried back to Post Lac Bain. +</P> + +<P> +The second day after he was on the trail at dawn. This time he carried +a pack in which there were a dozen strong wolf traps freshly dipped in +beaver oil, and a rabbit which he had snared the previous night. Now +and then he looked anxiously at the sky. It was clear until late in the +afternoon, when banks of dark clouds began rolling up from the east. +Half an hour later a few flakes of snow began falling. McTaggart let +one of these drop on the back of his mittened hand, and examined it +closely. It was soft and downy, and he gave vent to his satisfaction. +It was what he wanted. Before morning there would be six inches of +freshly fallen snow covering the trails. +</P> + +<P> +He stopped at the next trap house and quickly set to work. First he +threw away the poisoned bait in the "house" and replaced it with the +rabbit. Then he began setting his wolf traps. Three of these he placed +close to the "door" of the house, through which Baree would have to +reach for the bait. The remaining nine he scattered at intervals of a +foot or sixteen inches apart, so that when he was done a veritable +cordon of traps guarded the house. He did not fasten the chains, but +let them lay loose in the snow. If Baree got into one trap he would get +into others and there would be no use of toggles. His work done, +McTaggart hurried on through the thickening twilight of winter night to +his shack. He was highly elated. This time there could be no such thing +as failure. He had sprung every trap on his way from Lac Bain. In none +of those traps would Baree find anything to eat until he came to the +"nest" of twelve wolf traps. +</P> + +<P> +Seven inches of snow fell that night, and the whole world seemed turned +into a wonderful white robe. Like billows of feathers the snow clung to +the trees and shrubs. It gave tall white caps to the rocks, and +underfoot it was so light that a cartridge dropped from the hand sank +out of sight. Baree was on the trap line early. He was more cautious +this morning, for there was no longer the scent or snowshoe track of +McTaggart to guide him. He struck the first trap about halfway between +Lac Bain and the shack in which the factor was waiting. It was sprung, +and there was no bait. Trap after trap he visited, and all of them he +found sprung, and all without bait. He sniffed the air suspiciously, +striving vainly to catch the tang of smoke, a whiff of the man smell. +</P> + +<P> +Along toward noon he came to the "nest"—the twelve treacherous traps +waiting for him with gaping jaws half a foot under the blanket of snow. +For a full minute he stood well outside the danger line, sniffing the +air, and listening. He saw the rabbit, and his jaws closed with a +hungry click. He moved a step nearer. Still he was suspicious—for some +strange and inexplicable reason he sensed danger. Anxiously he sought +for it with his nose, his eyes, and his ears. And all about him there +was a great silence and a great peace. His jaws clicked again. He +whined softly. What was it stirring him? Where was the danger he could +neither see nor smell? Slowly he circled about the trap house. Three +times he circled round it, each circle drawing him a little +nearer—until at last his feet almost touched the outer cordon of +traps. Another minute he stood still; his ears flattened; in spite of +the rich aroma of the rabbit in his nostrils SOMETHING WAS DRAWING HIM +AWAY. In another moment he would have gone, but there came +suddenly—and from directly behind the trap house—a fierce little +ratlike squeak, and the next instant Baree saw an ermine whiter than +the snow tearing hungrily at the flesh of the rabbit. He forgot his +strange premonition of danger. He growled fiercely, but his plucky +little rival did not budge from his feast. And then he sprang straight +into the "nest" that Bush McTaggart had made for him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap27"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 27 +</H3> + +<P> +The next morning Bush McTaggart heard the clanking of a chain when he +was still a good quarter of a mile from the "nest." Was it a lynx? Was +it a fishercat? Was it a wolf or a fox? OR WAS IT BAREE? He half ran +the rest of the distance, and it last he came to where he could see, +and his heart leaped into his throat when he saw that he had caught his +enemy. He approached, holding his rifle ready to fire if by any chance +the dog should free himself. +</P> + +<P> +Baree lay on his side, panting from exhaustion and quivering with pain. +A hoarse cry of exultation burst from McTaggart's lips as he drew +nearer and looked at the snow. It was packed hard for many feet about +the trap house, where Baree had struggled, and it was red with blood. +The blood had come mostly from Baree's jaws. They were dripping now as +he glared at his enemy. The steel jaws hidden under the snow had done +their merciless work well. One of his forefeet was caught well up +toward the first joint; both hind feet were caught. A fourth trap had +closed on his flank, and in tearing the jaws loose he had pulled off a +patch of skin half as big as McTaggart's hand. The snow told the story +of his desperate fight all through the night. His bleeding jaws showed +how vainly he had tried to break the imprisoning steel with his teeth. +He was panting. His eyes were bloodshot. +</P> + +<P> +But even now, after all his hours of agony, neither his spirit nor his +courage was broken. When he saw McTaggart he made a lunge to his feet, +almost instantly crumpling down into the snow again. But his forefeet +were braced. His head and chest remained up, and the snarl that came +from his throat was tigerish in its ferocity. Here, at last—not more +than a dozen feet from him—was the one thing in all the world that he +hated more than he hated the wolf breed. And again he was helpless, as +he had been helpless that other time in the rabbit snare. +</P> + +<P> +The fierceness of his snarl did not disturb Bush McTaggart now. He saw +how utterly the other was at his mercy, and with an exultant laugh he +leaned his rifle against a tree, pulled oft his mittens, and began +loading his pipe. This was the triumph he had looked forward to, the +torture he had waited for. In his soul there was a hatred as deadly as +Baree's, the hatred that a man might have for a man. He had expected to +send a bullet through the dog. But this was better—to watch him dying +by inches, to taunt him as he would have taunted a human, to walk about +him so that he could hear the clank of the traps and see the fresh +blood drip as Baree twisted his tortured legs and body to keep facing +him. It was a splendid vengeance. He was so engrossed in it that he did +not hear the approach of snowshoes behind him. It was a voice—a man's +voice—that turned him round in his tracks. +</P> + +<P> +The man was a stranger, and he was younger than McTaggart by ten years. +At least he looked no more than thirty-five or six, even with the short +growth of blond beard he wore. He was of that sort that the average man +would like at first glance; boyish, and yet a man; with clear eyes that +looked out frankly from under the rim of his fur cap, a form lithe as +an Indian's, and a face that did not bear the hard lines of the +wilderness. Yet McTaggart knew before he had spoken that this man was +of the wilderness, that he was heart and soul a part of it. His cap was +of fisher skin. He wore a windproof coat of softly tanned caribou skin, +belted at the waist with a long sash, and Indian fringed. The inside of +the coat was furred. He was traveling on the long, slender bush country +snowshoe. His pack, strapped over the shoulders, was small and compact; +he was carrying his rifle in a cloth jacket. And from cap to snowshoes +he was TRAVEL WORN. McTaggart, at a guess, would have said that he had +traveled a thousand miles in the last few weeks. It was not this +thought that sent the strange and chilling thrill up his back; but the +sudden fear that in some strange way a whisper of the truth might have +found its way down into the south—the truth of what had happened on +the Gray Loon—and that this travel-worn stranger wore under his +caribou-skin coat the badge of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police. For +that instant it was almost a terror that possessed him, and he stood +mute. +</P> + +<P> +The stranger had uttered only an amazed exclamation before. Now he +said, with his eyes on Baree: +</P> + +<P> +"God save us, but you've got the poor devil in a right proper mess, +haven't you?" +</P> + +<P> +There was something in the voice that reassured McTaggart. It was not a +suspicious voice, and he saw that the stranger was more interested in +the captured animal than in himself. He drew a deep breath. +</P> + +<P> +"A trap robber," he said. +</P> + +<P> +The stranger was staring still more closely at Baree. He thrust his gun +stock downward in the snow and drew nearer to him. +</P> + +<P> +"God save us again—a dog!" he exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +From behind, McTaggart was watching the man with the eyes of a ferret. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, a dog," he answered. "A wild dog, half wolf at least. He's robbed +me of a thousand dollars' worth of fur this winter." +</P> + +<P> +The stranger squatted himself before Baree, with his mittened hands +resting on his knees, and his white teeth gleaming in a half smile. +</P> + +<P> +"You poor devil!" he said sympathetically. "So you're a trap robber, +eh? An outlaw? And—the police have got you! And—God save us once +more—they haven't played you a very square game!" +</P> + +<P> +He rose and faced McTaggart. +</P> + +<P> +"I had to set a lot of traps like that," the factor apologized, his +face reddening slightly under the steady gaze of the stranger's blue +eyes. Suddenly his animus rose. "And he's going to die there, inch by +inch. I'm going to let him starve, and rot in the traps, to pay for all +he's done." He picked up his gun, and added, with his eyes on the +stranger and his finger ready at the trigger, "I'm Bush McTaggart, the +factor at Lac Bain. Are you bound that way, M'sieu?" +</P> + +<P> +"A few miles. I'm bound upcountry—beyond the Barrens." +</P> + +<P> +McTaggart felt again the strange thrill. +</P> + +<P> +"Government?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +The stranger nodded. +</P> + +<P> +"The—police, perhaps," persisted McTaggart. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, yes—of course—the police," said the stranger, looking straight +into the factor's eyes. "And now, m'sieu, as a very great courtesy to +the Law I'm going to ask you to send a bullet through that beast's head +before we go on. Will you? Or shall I?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's the law of the line," said McTaggart, "to let a trap robber rot +in the traps. And that beast was a devil. Listen—" +</P> + +<P> +Swiftly, and yet leaving out none of the fine detail, he told of the +weeks and months of strife between himself and Baree; of the maddening +futility of all his tricks and schemes and the still more maddening +cleverness of the beast he had at last succeeded in trapping. +</P> + +<P> +"He was a devil—that clever," he cried fiercely when he had finished. +"And now—would you shoot him, or let him lie there and die by inches, +as the devil should?" +</P> + +<P> +The stranger was looking at Baree. His face was turned away from +McTaggart. He said: +</P> + +<P> +"I guess you are right. Let the devil rot. If you're heading for Lac +Bain, m'sieu, I'll travel a short distance with you now. It will take a +couple of miles to straighten out the line of my compass." +</P> + +<P> +He picked up his gun. McTaggart led the way. At the end of half an hour +the stranger stopped, and pointed north. +</P> + +<P> +"Straight up there—a good five hundred miles," he said, speaking as +lightly as though he would reach home that night. "I'll leave you here." +</P> + +<P> +He made no offer to shake hands. But in going, he said: +</P> + +<P> +"You might report that John Madison has passed this way." +</P> + +<P> +After that he traveled straight northward for half a mile through the +deep forest. Then he swung westward for two miles, turned at a sharp +angle into the south, and an hour after he had left McTaggart he was +once more squatted on his heels almost within arms' reach of Baree. +</P> + +<P> +And he was saying, as though speaking to a human companion: +</P> + +<P> +"So that's what you've been, old boy. A trap robber, eh? An OUTLAW? And +you beat him at the game for two months! And for that, because you're a +better beast than he is, he wants to let you die here as slow as you +can. An OUTLAW!" His voice broke into a pleasant laugh, the sort of +laugh that warms one, even a beast. "That's funny. We ought to shake +hands, Boy, by George, we had! You're a wild one, he says. Well, so am +I. Told him my name was John Madison. It ain't. I'm Jim Carvel. And, oh +Lord!—all I said was 'police.' And that was right. It ain't a lie. I'm +wanted by the whole corporation—by every danged policeman between +Hudson's Bay and the Mackenzie River. Shake, old man. We're in the same +boat, an' I'm glad to meet you!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap28"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 28 +</H3> + +<P> +Jim Carvel held out his hand, and the snarl that was in Baree's throat +died away. The man rose to his feet. He stood there, looking in the +direction taken by Bush McTaggart, and chuckled in a curious, exultant +sort of way. +</P> + +<P> +There was friendliness even in that chuckle. There was friendliness in +his eyes and in the shine of his teeth as he looked again at Baree. +About him there was something that seemed to make the gray day +brighter, that seemed to warm the chill air—a strange something that +radiated cheer and hope and comradeship just as a hot stove sends out +the glow of heat. Baree felt it. For the first time since the two men +had come his trap-torn body lost its tenseness; his back sagged; his +teeth clicked as he shivered in his agony. To THIS man he betrayed his +weakness. In his bloodshot eyes there was a hungering look as he +watched Carvel—the self-confessed outlaw. And Jim Carvel again held +out his hand—much nearer this time. +</P> + +<P> +"You poor devil," he said, the smile going out of his face. "You poor +devil!" +</P> + +<P> +The words were like a caress to Baree—the first he had known since the +loss of Nepeese and Pierrot. He dropped his head until his jaw lay flat +in the snow. Carvel could see the blood dripping slowly from it. +</P> + +<P> +"You poor devil!" he repeated. +</P> + +<P> +There was no fear in the way he put forth his hand. It was the +confidence of a great sincerity and a great compassion. It touched +Baree's head and patted it in a brotherly fashion, and then—slowly and +with a bit more caution—it went to the trap fastened to Baree's +forepaw. In his half-crazed brain Baree was fighting to understand +things, and the truth came finally when he felt the steel jaws of the +trap open, and he drew forth his maimed foot. He did then what he had +done to no other creature but Nepeese. Just once his hot tongue shot +out and licked Carvel's hand. The man laughed. With his powerful hands +he opened the other traps, and Baree was free. +</P> + +<P> +For a few moments he lay without moving, his eyes fixed on the man. +Carvel had seated himself on the snow-covered end of a birch log and +was filling his pipe. Baree watched him light it; he noted with new +interest the first purplish cloud of smoke that left Carvel's mouth. +The man was not more than the length of two trap chains away—and he +grinned at Baree. +</P> + +<P> +"Screw up your nerve, old chap," he encouraged. "No bones broke. Just a +little stiff. Mebby we'd better—get out." +</P> + +<P> +He turned his face in the direction of Lac Bain. The suspicion was in +his mind that McTaggart might turn back. Perhaps that same suspicion +was impressed upon Baree, for when Carvel looked at him again he was on +his feet, staggering a bit as he gained his equilibrium. In another +moment the outlaw had swung the packsack from his shoulders and was +opening it. He thrust in his hand and drew out a chunk of raw, red meat. +</P> + +<P> +"Killed it this morning," he explained to Baree. "Yearling bull, tender +as partridge—and that's as fine a sweetbread as ever came out from +under a backbone. Try it!" +</P> + +<P> +He tossed the flesh to Baree. There was no equivocation in the manner +of its acceptance. Baree was famished—and the meat was flung to him by +a friend. He buried his teeth in it. His jaws crunched it. New fire +leapt into his blood as he feasted, but not for an instant did his +reddened eyes leave the other's face. Carvel replaced his pack. He rose +to his feet, took up his rifle, slipped on his snowshoes, and fronted +the north. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on. Boy," he said. "We've got to travel." +</P> + +<P> +It was a matter-of-fact invitation, as though the two had been +traveling companions for a long time. It was, perhaps, not only an +invitation but partly a command. It puzzled Baree. For a full +half-minute he stood motionless in his tracks gazing at Carvel as he +strode into the north. A sudden convulsive twitching shot through +Baree. He swung his head toward Lac Bain; he looked again at Carvel, +and a whine that was scarcely more than a breath came out of his +throat. The man was just about to disappear into the thick spruce. He +paused, and looked back. +</P> + +<P> +"Coming, Boy?" +</P> + +<P> +Even at that distance Baree could see him grinning affably. He saw the +outstretched hand, and the voice stirred new sensations in him. It was +not like Pierrot's voice. He had never loved Pierrot. Neither was it +soft and sweet like the Willow's. He had known only a few men, and all +of them he had regarded with distrust. But this was a voice that +disarmed him. It was lureful in its appeal. He wanted to answer it. He +was filled with a desire, all at once, to follow close at the heels of +this stranger. For the first time in his life a craving for the +friendship of man possessed him. He did not move until Jim Carvel +entered the spruce. Then he followed. +</P> + +<P> +That night they were camped in a dense growth of cedars and balsams ten +miles north of Bush McTaggart's trap line. For two hours it had snowed, +and their trail was covered. It was still snowing, but not a flake of +the white deluge sifted down through the thick canopy of boughs. Carvel +had put up his small silk tent, and had built a fire. Their supper was +over, and Baree lay on his belly facing the outlaw, almost within reach +of his hand. With his back to a tree Carvel was smoking luxuriously. He +had thrown off his cap and his coat, and in the warm fireglow he looked +almost boyishly young. But even in that glow his jaws lost none of +their squareness, nor his eyes their clear alertness. +</P> + +<P> +"Seems good to have someone to talk to," he was saying to Baree. +"Someone who can understand, an' keep his mouth shut. Did you ever want +to howl, an' didn't dare? Well, that's me. Sometimes I've been on the +point of bustin' because I wanted to talk to someone, an' couldn't." +</P> + +<P> +He rubbed his hands together, and held them out toward the fire. Baree +watched his movements and listened intently to every sound that escaped +his lips. His eyes had in them now a dumb sort of worship, a look that +warmed Carvel's heart and did away with the vast loneliness and +emptiness of the night. Baree had dragged himself nearer to the man's +feet, and suddenly Carvel leaned over and patted his head. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a bad one, old chap," he chuckled. "You haven't got it on me—not +a bit. Want to know what happened?" He waited a moment, and Baree +looked at him steadily. Then Carvel went on, as if speaking to a human, +"Let's see—it was five years ago, five years this December, just +before Christmas time. Had a Dad. Fine old chap, my dad was. No +Mother—just the Dad, an' when you added us up we made just One. +Understand? And along came a white-striped skunk named Hardy and shot +him one day because Dad had worked against him in politics. Out an' out +murder. An' they didn't hang that skunk! No, sir, they didn't hang him. +He had too much money, an' too many friends in politics, an' they let +'im off with two years in the penitentiary. But he didn't get there. +No—s'elp me God, he didn't get there!" +</P> + +<P> +Carvel was twisting his hands until his knuckles cracked. An exultant +smile lighted up his face, and his eyes flashed back the firelight. +Baree drew a deep breath—a mere coincidence; but it was a tense moment +for all that. +</P> + +<P> +"No, he didn't get to the penitentiary," went on Carvel, looking +straight at Baree again. "Yours truly knew what that meant, old chap. +He'd have been pardoned inside a year. An' there was my dad, the +biggest half of me, in his grave. So I just went up to that +white-striped skunk right there before the judge's eyes, an' the +lawyers' eyes, an' the eyes of all his dear relatives an' friends—AND +I KILLED HIM! And I got away. Was out through a window before they woke +up, hit for the bush country, and have been eating up the trails ever +since. An' I guess God was with me, Boy. For He did a queer thing to +help me out summer before last, just when the Mounties were after me +hardest an' it looked pretty black. Man was found drowned down in the +Reindeer Country, right where they thought I was cornered. An' the good +Lord made that man look so much like me that he was buried under my +name. So I'm officially dead, old chap. I don't need to be afraid any +more so long as I don't get too familiar with people for a year or so +longer, and 'way down inside me I've liked to believe God fixed it up +in that way to help me out of a bad hole. What's YOUR opinion? Eh?" +</P> + +<P> +He leaned forward for an answer. Baree had listened. Perhaps, in a way, +he had understood. But it was another sound than Carvel's voice that +came to his ears now. With his head close to the ground he heard it +quite distinctly. He whined, and the whine ended in a snarl so low that +Carvel just caught the warning note in it. He straightened. He stood up +then, and faced the south. Baree stood beside him, his legs tense and +his spine bristling. +</P> + +<P> +After a moment Carvel said: +</P> + +<P> +"Relatives of yours, old chap. Wolves." +</P> + +<P> +He went into the tent for his rifle and cartridges. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap29"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 29 +</H3> + +<P> +Baree was on his feet, rigid as hewn rock, when Carvel came out of the +tent, and for a few moments Carvel stood in silence, watching him +closely. Would the dog respond to the call of the pack? Did he belong +to them? Would he go—now? The wolves were drawing nearer. They were +not circling, as a caribou or a deer would have circled, but were +traveling straight—dead straight for their camp. The significance of +this fact was easily understood by Carvel. All that afternoon Baree's +feet had left a blood smell in their trail, and the wolves had struck +the trail in the deep forest, where the falling snow had not covered +it. Carvel was not alarmed. More than once in his five years of +wandering between the Arctic and the Height of Land he had played the +game with the wolves. Once he had almost lost, but that was out in the +open Barren. Tonight he had a fire, and in the event of his firewood +running out he had trees he could climb. His anxiety just now was +centered in Baree. So he said, making his voice quite casual: +</P> + +<P> +"You aren't going, are you, old chap?" +</P> + +<P> +If Baree heard him he gave no evidence of it. But Carvel, still +watching him closely, saw that the hair along his spine had risen like +a brush, and then he heard—growing slowly in Baree's throat—a snarl +of ferocious hatred. It was the sort of snarl that had held back the +factor from Lac Bain, and Carvel, opening the breech of his gun to see +that all was right, chuckled happily. Baree may have heard the chuckle. +Perhaps it meant something to him, for he turned his head suddenly and +with flattened ears looked at his companion. +</P> + +<P> +The wolves were silent now. Carvel knew what that meant, and he was +tensely alert. In the stillness the click of the safety on his rifle +sounded with metallic sharpness. For many minutes they heard nothing +but the crack of the fire. Suddenly Baree's muscles seemed to snap. He +sprang back, and faced the quarter behind Carvel, his head level with +his shoulders, his inch-long fangs gleaming as he snarled into the +black caverns of the forest beyond the rim of firelight. Carvel had +turned like a shot. It was almost frightening—what he saw. A pair of +eyes burning with greenish fire, and then another pair, and after that +so many of them that he could not have counted them. He gave a sadden +gasp. They were like cat eyes, only much larger. Some of them, catching +the firelight fully, were red as coals, others flashed blue and +green—living things without bodies. With a swift glance he took in the +black circle of the forest. They were out there, too; they were on all +sides of them, but where he had seen them first they were thickest. In +these first few seconds he had forgotten Baree, awed almost to +stupefaction by that monster-eyed cordon of death that hemmed them in. +There were fifty—perhaps a hundred wolves out there, afraid of nothing +in all this savage world but fire. They had come up without the sound +of a padded foot or a broken twig. If it had been later, and they had +been asleep, and the fire out— +</P> + +<P> +He shuddered, and for a moment the thought got the better of his +nerves. He had not intended to shoot except from necessity, but all at +once his rifle came to his shoulder and he sent a stream of fire out +where the eyes were thickest. Baree knew what the shots meant, and +filled with the mad desire to get at the throat of one of his enemies +he dashed in their direction. Carvel gave a startled yell as he went. +He saw the flash of Baree's body, saw it swallowed up in the gloom, and +in that same instant heard the deadly clash of fangs and the impact of +bodies. A wild thrill shot through him. The dog had charged alone—and +the wolves had waited. There could be but one end. His four-footed +comrade had gone straight into the jaws of death! +</P> + +<P> +He could hear the ravening snap of those jaws out in the darkness. It +was sickening. His hand went to the Colt .45 at his belt, and he thrust +his empty rifle butt downward into the snow. With the big automatic +before his eyes he plunged out into the darkness, and from his lips +there issued a wild yelling that could have been heard a mile away. +With the yelling a steady stream of fire spat from the Colt into the +mass of fighting beasts. There were eight shots in the automatic, and +not until the plunger clicked with metallic emptiness did Carvel cease +his yelling and retreat into the firelight. He listened, breathing +deeply. He no longer saw eyes in the darkness, nor did he hear the +movement of bodies. The suddenness and ferocity of his attack had +driven back the wolf horde. But the dog! He caught his breath, and +strained his eyes. A shadow was dragging itself into the circle of +light. It was Baree. Carvel ran to him, put his arms under his +shoulders, and brought him to the fire. +</P> + +<P> +For a long time after that there was a questioning light in Carvel's +eyes. He reloaded his guns, put fresh fuel on the fire, and from his +pack dug out strips of cloth with which he bandaged three or four of +the deepest cuts in Baree's legs. And a dozen times he asked, in a +wondering sort of way, +</P> + +<P> +"Now what the deuce made you do that, old chap? What have YOU got +against the wolves?" +</P> + +<P> +All that night he did not sleep, but watched. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Their experience with the wolves broke down the last bit of uncertainty +that might have existed between the man and the dog. For days after +that, as they traveled slowly north and west, Carvel nursed Baree as he +might have cared for a sick child. Because of the dog's hurts, he made +only a few miles a day. Baree understood, and in him there grew +stronger and stronger a great love for the man whose hands were as +gentle as the Willow's and whose voice warmed him with the thrill of an +immeasurable comradeship. He no longer feared him or had a suspicion of +him. And Carvel, on his part, was observing things. The vast emptiness +of the world about them, and their aloneness, gave him the opportunity +of pondering over unimportant details, and he found himself each day +watching Baree a little more closely. He made at last a discovery which +interested him deeply. Always, when they halted on the trail, Baree +would turn his face to the south. When they were in camp it was from +the south that he nosed the wind most frequently. This was quite +natural, Carvel thought, for his old hunting grounds were back there. +But as the days passed he began to notice other things. Now and then, +looking off into the far country from which they had come, Baree would +whine softly, and on that day he would be filled with a great +restlessness. He gave no evidence of wanting to leave Carvel, but more +and more Carvel came to understand that some mysterious call was coming +to him from out of the south. +</P> + +<P> +It was the wanderer's intention to swing over into the country of the +Great Slave, a good eight hundred miles to the north and west, before +the mush snows came. From there, when the waters opened in springtime, +he planned to travel by canoe westward to the Mackenzie and ultimately +to the mountains of British Columbia. These plans were changed in +February. They were caught in a great storm in the Wholdaia Lake +country, and when their fortunes looked darkest Carvel stumbled on a +cabin in the heart of a deep spruce forest, and in this cabin there was +a dead man. He had been dead for many days, and was frozen stiff. +Carvel chopped a hole in the earth and buried him. +</P> + +<P> +The cabin was a treasure trove to Carvel and Baree, and especially to +the man. It evidently possessed no other owner than the one who had +died. It was comfortable and stocked with provisions; and more than +that, its owner had made a splendid catch of fur before the frost bit +his lungs, and he died. Carvel went over them carefully and joyously. +They were worth a thousand dollars at any post, and he could see no +reason why they did not belong to him now. Within a week he had blazed +out the dead man's snow-covered trap line and was trapping on his own +account. +</P> + +<P> +This was two hundred miles north and west of the Gray Loon, and soon +Carvel observed that Baree did not face directly south in those moments +when the strange call came to him, but south and east. And now, with +each day that passed, the sun rose higher in the sky; it grew warmer; +the snow softened underfoot, and in the air was the tremulous and +growing throb of spring. With these things came the old yearning to +Baree; the heart-thrilling call of the lonely graves back on the Gray +Loon, of the burned cabin, the abandoned tepee beyond the pool—and of +Nepeese. In his sleep he saw visions of things. He heard again the low, +sweet voice of the Willow, felt the touch of her hand, was at play with +her once more in the dark shades of the forest—and Carvel would sit +and watch him as he dreamed, trying to read the meaning of what he saw +and heard. +</P> + +<P> +In April Carvel shouldered his furs up to the Hudson's Bay Company's +post at Lac la Biche, which was still farther north. Baree accompanied +him halfway, and then—at sundown Carvel returned to the cabin and +found him there. He was so overjoyed that he caught the dog's head in +his arms and hugged it. They lived in the cabin until May. The buds +were swelling then, and the smell of growing things had begun to rise +up out of the earth. +</P> + +<P> +Then Carvel found the first of the early blue flowers. +</P> + +<P> +That night he packed up. +</P> + +<P> +"It's time to travel," he announced to Baree. "And I've sort of changed +my mind. We're going back—there." And he pointed south. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap30"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 30 +</H3> + +<P> +A strange humor possessed Carvel as he began the southward journey. He +did not believe in omens, good or bad. +</P> + +<P> +Superstition had played a small part in his life, but he possessed both +curiosity and a love for adventure, and his years of lonely wandering +had developed in him a wonderfully clear mental vision of things, which +in other words might be called a singularly active imagination. He knew +that some irresistible force was drawing Baree back into the +south—that it was pulling him not only along a given line of the +compass, but to an exact point in that line. +</P> + +<P> +For no reason in particular the situation began to interest him more +and more, and as his time was valueless, and he had no fixed +destination in view, he began to experiment. For the first two days he +marked the dog's course by compass. It was due southeast. On the third +morning Carvel purposely struck a course straight west. He noted +quickly the change in Baree—his restlessness at first, and after that +the dejected manner in which he followed at his heels. Toward noon +Carvel swung sharply to the south and east again, and almost +immediately Baree regained his old eagerness, and ran ahead of his +master. +</P> + +<P> +After this, for many days, Carvel followed the trail of the dog. +</P> + +<P> +"Mebby I'm an idiot, old chap," he apologized one evening. "But it's a +bit of fun, after all—an' I've got to hit the line of rail before I +can get over to the mountains, so what's the difference? I'm game—so +long as you don't take me back to that chap at Lac Bain. Now—what the +devil! Are you hitting for his trap line, to get even? If that's the +case—" +</P> + +<P> +He blew out a cloud of smoke from his pipe as he eyed Baree, and Baree, +with his head between his forepaws, eyed him back. +</P> + +<P> +A week later Baree answered Carvel's question by swinging westward to +give a wide berth to Post Lac Bain. It was midafternoon when they +crossed the trail along which Bush McTaggart's traps and deadfalls had +been set. Baree did not even pause. He headed due south, traveling so +fast that at times he was lost to Carvel's sight. A suppressed but +intense excitement possessed him, and he whined whenever Carvel stopped +to rest—always with his nose sniffing the wind out of the south. +Springtime, the flowers, the earth turning green, the singing of birds, +and the sweet breaths in the air were bringing him back to that great +yesterday when he had belonged to Nepeese. In his unreasoning mind +there existed no longer a winter. The long months of cold and hunger +were gone; in the new visionings that filled his brain they were +forgotten. The birds and flowers and the blue skies had come back, and +with them the Willow must surely have returned, and she was waiting for +him now, just over there beyond that rim of green forest. +</P> + +<P> +Something greater than mere curiosity began to take possession of +Carvel. A whimsical humor became a fixed and deeper thought, an +unreasoning anticipation that was accompanied by a certain thrill of +subdued excitement. By the time they reached the old beaver pond the +mystery of the strange adventure had a firm hold on him. From Beaver +Tooth's colony Baree led him to the creek along which Wakayoo, the +black bear, had fished, and thence straight to the Gray Loon. +</P> + +<P> +It was early afternoon of a wonderful day. It was so still that the +rippling waters of spring, singing in a thousand rills and streamlets, +filled the forests with a droning music. In the warm sun the crimson +bakneesh glowed like blood. In the open spaces the air was scented with +the perfume of blue flowers. In the trees and bushes mated birds were +building their nests. After the long sleep of winter nature was at work +in all her glory. It was Unekepesim, the Mating Moon, the Home-building +Moon—and Baree was going home. Not to matehood—but to Nepeese. He +knew that she was there now, perhaps at the very edge of the chasm +where he had seen her last. They would be playing together again soon, +as they had played yesterday, and the day before, and the day before +that, and in his joy he barked up into Carvel's face, and urged him to +greater speed. +</P> + +<P> +Then they came to the clearing, and once more Baree stood like a rock. +Carvel saw the charred ruins of the burned cabin, and a moment later +the two graves under the tall spruce. He began to understand as his +eyes returned slowly to the waiting, listening dog. A great swelling +rose in his throat, and after a moment or two he said softly, and with +an effort, +</P> + +<P> +"Boy, I guess you're home." +</P> + +<P> +Baree did not hear. With his head up and his nose tilted to the blue +sky he was sniffing the air. What was it that came to him with the +perfumes of the forests and the green meadow? Why was it that he +trembled now as he stood there? What was there in the air? Carvel asked +himself, and his questing eyes tried to answer the questions. Nothing. +There was death here—death and desertion, that was all. And then, all +at once, there came from Baree a strange cry—almost a human cry—and +he was gone like the wind. +</P> + +<P> +Carvel had thrown off his pack. He dropped his rifle beside it now, and +followed Baree. He ran swiftly, straight across the open, into the +dwarf balsams, and into a grass-grown path that had once been worn by +the travel of feet. He ran until he was panting for breath, and then +stopped, and listened. He could hear nothing of Baree. But that old +worn trail led on under the forest trees, and he followed it. +</P> + +<P> +Close to the deep, dark pool in which he and the Willow had disported +so often Baree, too, had stopped. He could hear the rippling of water, +and his eyes shone with a gleaming fire as he searched for Nepeese. He +expected to see her there, her slim white body shimmering in some dark +shadow of overhanging spruce, or gleaming suddenly white as snow in one +of the warm plashes of sunlight. His eyes sought out their old hiding +places; the great split rock on the other side, the shelving banks +under which they used to dive like otter, the spruce boughs that dipped +down to the surface, and in the midst of which the Willow loved to +pretend to hide while he searched the pool for her. And at last the +realization was borne upon him that she was not there, that he had +still farther to go. +</P> + +<P> +He went on to the tepee. The little open space in which they had built +their hidden wigwam was flooded with sunshine that came through a break +in the forest to the west. The tepee was still there. It did not seem +very much changed to Baree. And rising from the ground in front of the +tepee was what had come to him faintly on the still air—the smoke of a +small fire. Over that fire was bending a person, and it did not strike +Baree as amazing, or at all unexpected, that this person should have +two great shining braids down her back. He whined, and at his whine the +person grew a little rigid, and turned slowly. +</P> + +<P> +Even then it seemed quite the most natural thing in the world that it +should be Nepeese, and none other. He had lost her yesterday. Today he +had found her. And in answer to his whine there came a sobbing cry +straight out of the heart of the Willow. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Carvel found them there a few minutes later, the dog's head hugged +close up against the Willow's breast, and the Willow was crying—crying +like a little child, her face hidden from him on Baree's neck. He did +not interrupt them, but waited; and as he waited something in the +sobbing voice and the stillness of the forest seemed to whisper to him +a bit of the story of the burned cabin and the two graves, and the +meaning of the Call that had come to Baree from out of the south. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap31"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER 31 +</H3> + +<P> +That night there was a new campfire in the clearing. It was not a small +fire, built with the fear that other eyes might see it, but a fire that +sent its flames high. In the glow of it stood Carvel. And as the fire +had changed from that small smoldering heap over which the Willow had +cooked her dinner, so Carvel, the officially dead outlaw, had changed. +The beard was gone from his face. He had thrown off his caribou-skin +coat. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and there was a wild +flush in his face that was not altogether the work of wind and sun and +storm, and a glow in his eyes that had not been there for five years, +perhaps never before. His eyes were on Nepeese. +</P> + +<P> +She sat in the firelight, leaning a little toward the blaze, her +wonderful hair warmly reflecting its mellow light. Carvel did not move +while she was in that attitude. He seemed scarcely to breathe. The glow +in his eyes grew deeper—the worship of a man for a woman. Suddenly +Nepeese turned and caught him before he could turn his gaze. There was +nothing to hide in her own eyes. Like her face, they were alight with a +new hope and a new gladness. Carvel sat down beside her on the birch +log, and in his hand he took one of her thick braids and crumpled it as +he talked. At their feet, watching them, lay Baree. +</P> + +<P> +"Tomorrow or the next day I am going to Lac Bain," he said, a hard and +bitter note back of the gentle worship in his voice. "I will not come +back until I have—killed him." +</P> + +<P> +The Willow looked straight into the fire. For a time there was a +silence broken only by the crackling of the flames, and in that silence +Carvel's fingers weaved in and out of the silken strands of the +Willow's hair. His thoughts flashed back. What a chance he had missed +that day on Bush McTaggart's trap line—if he had only known! His jaws +set hard as he saw in the red-hot heart of the fire the mental pictures +of the day when the factor from Lac Bain had killed Pierrot. She had +told him the whole story. Her flight. Her plunge to what she had +thought was certain death in the icy torrent of the chasm. Her +miraculous escape from the waters—and how she was discovered, nearly +dead, by Tuboa, the toothless old Cree whom Pierrot out of pity had +allowed to hunt in part of his domain. He felt within himself the +tragedy and the horror of the one terrible hour in which the sun had +gone out of the world for the Willow, and in the flames he could see +faithful old Tuboa as he called on his last strength to bear Nepeese +over the long miles that lay between the chasm and his cabin. He caught +shifting visions of the weeks that followed in that cabin, weeks of +hunger and of intense cold in which the Willow's life hung by a single +thread. And at last, when the snows were deepest, Tuboa had died. +Carvel's fingers clenched in the strands of the Willow's braid. A deep +breath rose out of his chest, and he said, staring deep into the fire, +</P> + +<P> +"Tomorrow I will go to Lac Bain." +</P> + +<P> +For a moment Nepeese did not answer. She, too, was looking into the +fire. Then she said: +</P> + +<P> +"Tuboa meant to kill him when the spring came, and he could travel. +When Tuboa died I knew that it was I who must kill him. So I came, with +Tuboa's gun. It was fresh loaded—yesterday. And—M'sieu Jeem"—she +looked up at him, a triumphant glow in her eyes as she added, almost in +a whisper—"You will not go to Lac Bain. I HAVE SENT A MESSENGER." +</P> + +<P> +"A messenger?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Ookimow Jeem—a messenger. Two days ago. I sent word that I had +not died, but was here—waiting for him—and that I would be Iskwao +now, his wife. Oo-oo, he will come, Ookimow Jeem—he will come fast. +And you shall not kill him. Non!" She smiled into his face, and the +throb of Carvel's heart was like a drum. "The gun is loaded," she said +softly. "I will shoot." +</P> + +<P> +"Two days ago," said Carvel. "And from Lac Bain it is—" +</P> + +<P> +"He will be here tomorrow," Nepeese answered him. +</P> + +<P> +"Tomorrow, as the sun goes down, he will enter the clearing. I know. My +blood has been singing it all day. Tomorrow—tomorrow—for he will +travel fast, Ookimow Jeem. Yes, he will come fast." +</P> + +<P> +Carvel had bent his head. The soft tresses gripped in his fingers were +crushed to his lips. The Willow, looking again into the fire, did not +see. But she FELT—and her soul was beating like the wings of a bird. +</P> + +<P> +"Ookimow Jeem," she whispered—a breath, a flutter of the lips so soft +that Carvel heard no sound. +</P> + +<P> +If old Tuboa had been there that night it is possible he would have +read strange warnings in the winds that whispered now and then softly +in the treetops. It was such a night; a night when the Red Gods whisper +low among themselves, a carnival of glory in which even the dipping +shadows and the high stars seemed to quiver with the life of a potent +language. It is barely possible that old Tuboa, with his ninety years +behind him, would have learned something, or that at least he would +have SUSPECTED a thing which Carvel in his youth and confidence did not +see. Tomorrow—he will come tomorrow! The Willow, exultant, had said +that. But to old Tuboa the trees might have whispered, WHY NOT TONIGHT? +</P> + +<P> +It was midnight when the big moon stood full above the little opening +in the forest. In the tepee the Willow was sleeping. In a balsam shadow +back from the fire slept Baree, and still farther back in the edge of a +spruce thicket slept Carvel. Dog and man were tired. They had traveled +far and fast that day, and they heard no sound. +</P> + +<P> +But they had traveled neither so far nor so fast as Bush McTaggart. +Between sunrise and midnight he had come forty miles when he strode out +into the clearing where Pierrot's cabin had stood. Twice from the edge +of the forest he had called; and now, when he found no answer, he stood +under the light of the moon and listened. Nepeese was to be +here—waiting. He was tired, but exhaustion could not still the fire +that burned in his blood. It had been blazing all day, and now—so near +its realization and its triumph—the old passion was like a rich wine +in his veins. Somewhere, near where he stood, Nepeese was waiting for +him, WAITING FOR HIM. Once again he called, his heart beating in a +fierce anticipation as he listened. There was no answer. And then for a +thrilling instant his breath stopped. He sniffed the air—and there +came to him faintly the smell of smoke. +</P> + +<P> +With the first instinct of the forest man he fronted the wind that was +but a faint breath under the starlit skies. He did not call again, but +hastened across the clearing. Nepeese was off +there—somewhere—sleeping beside her fire, and out of him there rose a +low cry of exultation. He came to the edge of the forest; chance +directed his steps to the overgrown trail. He followed it, and the +smoke smell came stronger to his nostrils. +</P> + +<P> +It was the forest man's instinct, too, that added the element of +caution to his advance. That, and the utter stillness of the night. He +broke no sticks under his feet. He disturbed the brush so quietly that +it made no sound. When he came at last to the little open where +Carvel's fire was still sending a spiral of spruce-scented smoke up +into the air it was with a stealth that failed even to rouse Baree. +Perhaps, deep down in him, there smoldered an old suspicion; perhaps it +was because he wanted to come to her while she was sleeping. The sight +of the tepee made his heart throb faster. It was light as day where it +stood in the moonlight, and he saw hanging outside it a few bits of +woman's apparel. He advanced soft-footed as a fox and stood a moment +later with his hand on the cloth flap at the wigwam door, his head bent +forward to catch the merest breath of sound. He could hear her +breathing. For an instant his face turned so that the moonlight struck +his eyes. They were aflame with a mad fire. Then, still very quietly, +he drew aside the flap at the door. +</P> + +<P> +It could not have been sound that roused Baree, hidden in the black +balsam shadow a dozen paces away. Perhaps it was scent. His nostrils +twitched first; then he awoke. For a few seconds his eyes glared at the +bent figure in the tepee door. He knew that it was not Carvel. The old +smell—the man-beast's smell, filled his nostrils like a hated poison. +He sprang to his feet and stood with his lips snarling back slowly from +his long fangs. McTaggart had disappeared. From inside the tepee there +came a sound; a sudden movement of bodies, a startled ejaculation of +one awakening from sleep—and then a cry, a low, half-smothered, +frightened cry, and in response to that cry Baree shot out from under +the balsam with a sound in his throat that had in it the note of death. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In the edge of the spruce thicket Carvel rolled uneasily. Strange +sounds were rousing him, cries that in his exhaustion came to him as if +in a dream. At last he sat up, and then in sudden horror leaped to his +feet and rushed toward the tepee. Nepeese was in the open, crying the +name she had given him—"OOKIMOW JEEM—OOKIMOW—JEEM—OOKIMOW JEEM—" +She was standing there white and slim, her eyes with the blaze of the +stars in them, and when she saw Carvel she flung out her arms to him, +still crying: +</P> + +<P> +"Ookimow Jeem—Oo-oo, Ookimow Jeem—" +</P> + +<P> +In the tepee he heard the rage of a beast, the moaning cries of a man. +He forgot that it was only last night he had come, and with a cry he +swept the Willow to his breast, and the Willow's arms tightened round +his neck as she moaned: +</P> + +<P> +"Ookimow Jeem—it is the man-beast—in there! It is the man-beast from +Lac Bain—and Baree—" +</P> + +<P> +Truth flashed upon Carvel, and he caught Nepeese up in his arms and ran +away with her from the sounds that had grown sickening and horrible. In +the spruce thicket he put her feet once more to the ground. Her arms +were still tight around his neck. He felt the wild terror of her body +as it throbbed against him. Her breath was sobbing, and her eyes were +on his face. He drew her closer, and suddenly he crushed his face down +close against hers and felt for an instant the warm thrill of her lips +against his own. And he heard the whisper, soft and trembling. +</P> + +<P> +"Ooo-oo, OOKIMOW JEEM—" +</P> + +<P> +When Carvel returned to the fire, alone, his Colt in his hand, Baree +was in front of the tepee waiting for him. +</P> + +<P> +Carvel picked up a burning brand and entered the wigwam. When he came +out his face was white. He tossed the brand in the fire, and went back +to Nepeese. He had wrapped her in his blankets, and now he knelt down +beside her and put his arms about her. +</P> + +<P> +"He is dead, Nepeese." +</P> + +<P> +"Dead, Ookimow Jeem?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Baree killed him." +</P> + +<P> +She did not seem to breathe. Gently, with his lips in her hair. Carvel +whispered his plans for their paradise. +</P> + +<P> +"No one will know, my sweetheart. Tonight I will bury him and burn the +tepee. Tomorrow we will start for Nelson House, where there is a +missioner. And after that—we will come back—and I will build a new +cabin where the old one burned. DO YOU LOVE ME, KA SAKAHET?" +</P> + +<P> +"OM'—yes—Ookimow Jeem—I love you—" +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly there came an interruption. Baree at last was giving his cry +of triumph. It rose to the stars; it wailed over the roofs of the +forests and filled the quiet skies—a wolfish howl of exultation, of +achievement, of vengeance fulfilled. Its echoes died slowly away, and +silence came again. A great peace whispered in the soft breath of the +treetops. Out of the north came the mating call of a loon. About +Carvel's shoulders the Willow's arms crept closer. And Carvel, out of +his heart, thanked God. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Baree, Son of Kazan, by James Oliver Curwood + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAREE, SON OF KAZAN *** + +***** This file should be named 4748-h.htm or 4748-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/7/4/4748/ + +Produced by Diane Bean. HTML version by Al Haines. + +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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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: Baree, Son of Kazan + +Author: James Oliver Curwood + +Posting Date: September 6, 2009 [EBook #4748] +Release Date: December, 2003 +First Posted: March 12, 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAREE, SON OF KAZAN *** + + + + +Produced by Diane Bean. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + +Baree, Son of Kazan. + +James Oliver Curwood. + +JTABLE 10 31 1 + + +Preface + +Since the publication of my two animal books, "Kazan, the Wolf Dog" and +"The Grizzly King," I have received so many hundreds of letters from +friends of wild animal life, all of which were more or less of an +inquiring nature, that I have been encouraged to incorporate in this +preface of the third of my series--"Baree, Son of Kazan"--something +more of my desire and hope in writing of wild life, and something of +the foundation of fact whereupon this and its companion books have been +written. + +I have always disliked the preaching of sermons in the pages of +romance. It is like placing a halter about an unsuspecting reader's +neck and dragging him into paths for which he may have no liking. But +if fact and truth produce in the reader's mind a message for himself, +then a work has been done. That is what I hope for in my nature books. +The American people are not and never have been lovers of wild life. As +a nation we have gone after Nature with a gun. + +And what right, you may ask, has a confessed slaughterer of wild life +such as I have been to complain? None at all, I assure you. I have +twenty-seven guns--and I have used them all. I stand condemned as +having done more than my share toward extermination. But that does not +lessen the fact that I have learned; and in learning I have come to +believe that if boys and girls and men and women could be brought into +the homes and lives of wild birds and animals as their homes are made +and their lives are lived we would all understand at last that wherever +a heart beats it is very much like our own in the final analysis of +things. To see a bird singing on a twig means but little; but to live a +season with that bird, to be with it in courting days, in matehood and +motherhood, to understand its griefs as well as its gladness means a +great deal. And in my books it is my desire to tell of the lives of the +wild things which I know as they are actually lived. It is not my +desire to humanize them. If we are to love wild animals so much that we +do not want to kill them we MUST KNOW THEM AS THEY ACTUALLY LIVE. And +in their lives, in the facts of their lives, there is so much of real +and honest romance and tragedy, so much that makes them akin to +ourselves that the animal biographer need not step aside from the paths +of actuality to hold one's interest. + +Perhaps rather tediously I have come to the few words I want to say +about Baree, the hero of this book. Baree, after all, is only another +Kazan. For it was Kazan I found in the way I have described--a bad dog, +a killer about to be shot to death by his master when chance, and my +own faith in him, gave him to me. + +We traveled together for many thousands of miles through the +northland--on trails to the Barren Lands, to Hudson's Bay and to the +Arctic. Kazan--the bad dog, the half-wolf, the killer--was the best +four-legged friend I ever had. He died near Fort MacPherson, on the +Peel River, and is buried there. And Kazan was the father of Baree; +Gray Wolf, the full-blooded wolf, was his mother. Nepeese, the Willow, +still lives near God's Lake; and it was in the country of Nepeese and +her father that for three lazy months I watched the doings at Beaver +Town, and went on fishing trips with Wakayoo, the bear. Sometimes I +have wondered if old Beaver Tooth himself did not in some way +understand that I had made his colony safe for his people. It was +Pierrot's trapping ground; and to Pierrot--father of Nepeese--I gave my +best rifle on his word that he would not harm my beaver friends for two +years. And the people of Pierrot's breed keep their word. Wakayoo, +Baree's big bear friend, is dead. He was killed as I have described, in +that "pocket" among the ridges, while I was on a jaunt to Beaver Town. +We were becoming good friends and I missed him a great deal. The story +of Pierrot and of his princess wife, Wyola, is true; they are buried +side by side under the tall spruce that stood near their cabin. +Pierrot's murderer, instead of dying as I have told it, was killed in +his attempt to escape the Royal Mounted farther west. When I last saw +Baree he was at Lac Seul House, where I was the guest of Mr. William +Patterson, the factor; and the last word I heard from him was through +my good friend Frank Aldous, factor at White Dog Post, who wrote me +only a few weeks ago that he had recently seen Nepeese and Baree and +the husband of Nepeese, and that the happiness he found in their far +wilderness home made him regret that he was a bachelor. I feel sorry +for Aldous. He is a splendid young Englishman, unattached, and some day +I am going to try and marry him off. I have in mind someone at the +present moment--a fox-trapper's daughter up near the Barren, very +pretty, and educated at a missioner's school; and as Aldous is going +with me on my next trip I may have something to say about them in the +book that is to follow "Baree, Son of Kazan." + +James Oliver Curwood + +Owosso, Michigan + + + +CHAPTER 1 + +To Baree, for many days after he was born, the world was a vast gloomy +cavern. + +During these first days of his life his home was in the heart of a +great windfall where Gray Wolf, his blind mother, had found a safe nest +for his babyhood, and to which Kazan, her mate, came only now and then, +his eyes gleaming like strange balls of greenish fire in the darkness. +It was Kazan's eyes that gave to Baree his first impression of +something existing away from his mother's side, and they brought to him +also his discovery of vision. He could feel, he could smell, he could +hear--but in that black pit under the fallen timber he had never seen +until the eyes came. At first they frightened him; then they puzzled +him, and his fear changed to an immense curiosity. He would be looking +straight at them, when all at once they would disappear. This was when +Kazan turned his head. And then they would flash back at him again out +of the darkness with such startling suddenness that Baree would +involuntarily shrink closer to his mother, who always trembled and +shivered in a strange sort of way when Kazan came in. + +Baree, of course, would never know their story. He would never know +that Gray Wolf, his mother, was a full-blooded wolf, and that Kazan, +his father, was a dog. In him nature was already beginning its +wonderful work, but it would never go beyond certain limitations. It +would tell him, in time, that his beautiful wolf mother was blind, but +he would never know of that terrible battle between Gray Wolf and the +lynx in which his mother's sight had been destroyed. Nature could tell +him nothing of Kazan's merciless vengeance, of the wonderful years of +their matehood, of their loyalty, their strange adventures in the great +Canadian wilderness--it could make him only a son of Kazan. + +But at first, and for many days, it was all mother. Even after his eyes +had opened wide and he had found his legs so that he could stumble +about a little in the darkness, nothing existed for Baree but his +mother. When he was old enough to be playing with sticks and moss out +in the sunlight, he still did not know what she looked like. But to him +she was big and soft and warm, and she licked his face with her tongue, +and talked to him in a gentle, whimpering way that at last made him +find his own voice in a faint, squeaky yap. + +And then came that wonderful day when the greenish balls of fire that +were Kazan's eyes came nearer and nearer, a little at a time, and very +cautiously. Heretofore Gray Wolf had warned him back. To be alone was +the first law of her wild breed during mothering time. A low snarl from +her throat, and Kazan had always stopped. But on this day the snarl did +not come. In Gray Wolf's throat it died away in a low, whimpering +sound. A note of loneliness, of gladness, of a great yearning. "It is +all right now," she was saying to Kazan; and Kazan--pausing for a +moment to make sure--replied with an answering note deep in his throat. + +Still slowly, as if not quite sure of what he would find, Kazan came to +them, and Baree snuggled closer to his mother. He heard Kazan as he +dropped down heavily on his belly close to Gray Wolf. He was +unafraid--and mightily curious. And Kazan, too, was curious. He +sniffed. In the gloom his ears were alert. After a little Baree began +to move. An inch at a time he dragged himself away from Gray Wolf's +side. Every muscle in her lithe body tensed. Again her wolf blood was +warning her. There was danger for Baree. Her lips drew back, baring her +fangs. Her throat trembled, but the note in it never came. Out of the +darkness two yards away came a soft, puppyish whine, and the caressing +sound of Kazan's tongue. + +Baree had felt the thrill of his first great adventure. He had +discovered his father. + +This all happened in the third week of Baree's life. He was just +eighteen days old when Gray Wolf allowed Kazan to make the acquaintance +of his son. If it had not been for Gray Wolf's blindness and the memory +of that day on the Sun Rock when the lynx had destroyed her eyes, she +would have given birth to Baree in the open, and his legs would have +been quite strong. He would have known the sun and the moon and the +stars; he would have realized what the thunder meant, and would have +seen the lightning flashing in the sky. But as it was, there had been +nothing for him to do in that black cavern under the windfall but +stumble about a little in the darkness, and lick with his tiny red +tongue the raw bones that were strewn about them. Many times he had +been left alone. He had heard his mother come and go, and nearly always +it had been in response to a yelp from Kazan that came to them like a +distant echo. He had never felt a very strong desire to follow until +this day when Kazan's big, cool tongue caressed his face. In those +wonderful seconds nature was at work. His instinct was not quite born +until then. And when Kazan went away, leaving them alone in darkness, +Baree whimpered for him to come back, just as he had cried for his +mother when now and then she had left him in response to her mate's +call. + +The sun was straight above the forest when, an hour or two after +Kazan's visit, Gray Wolf slipped away. Between Baree's nest and the top +of the windfall were forty feet of jammed and broken timber through +which not a ray of light could break. This blackness did not frighten +him, for he had yet to learn the meaning of light. Day, and not night, +was to fill him with his first great terror. So quite fearlessly, with +a yelp for his mother to wait for him, he began to follow. If Gray Wolf +heard him, she paid no attention to his call, and the sound of the +scraping of her claws on the dead timber died swiftly away. + +This time Baree did not stop at the eight-inch log which had always +shut in his world in that particular direction. He clambered to the top +of it and rolled over on the other side. Beyond this was vast +adventure, and he plunged into it courageously. + +It took him a long time to make the first twenty yards. Then he came to +a log worn smooth by the feet of Gray Wolf and Kazan, and stopping +every few feet to send out a whimpering call for his mother, he made +his way farther and farther along it. As he went, there grew slowly a +curious change in this world of his. He had known nothing but +blackness. And now this blackness seemed breaking itself up into +strange shapes and shadows. Once he caught the flash of a fiery streak +above him--a gleam of sunshine--and it startled him so that he +flattened himself down upon the log and did not move for half a minute. +Then he went on. An ermine squeaked under him. He heard the swift +rustling of a squirrel's feet, and a curious whut-whut-whut that was +not at all like any sound his mother had ever made. He was off the +trail. + +The log was no longer smooth, and it was leading him upward higher and +higher into the tangle of the windfall, and was growing narrower every +foot he progressed. He whined. His soft little nose sought vainly for +the warm scent of his mother. The end came suddenly when he lost his +balance and fell. He let out a piercing cry of terror as he felt +himself slipping, and then plunged downward. He must have been high up +in the windfall, for to Baree it seemed a tremendous fall. His soft +little body thumped from log to log as he shot this way and that, and +when at last he stopped, there was scarcely a breath left in him. But +he stood up quickly on his four trembling legs--and blinked. + +A new terror held Baree rooted there. In an instant the whole world had +changed. It was a flood of sunlight. Everywhere he looked he could see +strange things. But it was the sun that frightened him most. It was his +first impression of fire, and it made his eyes smart. He would have +slunk back into the friendly gloom of the windfall, but at this moment +Gray Wolf came around the end of a great log, followed by Kazan. She +muzzled Baree joyously, and Kazan in a most doglike fashion wagged his +tail. This mark of the dog was to be a part of Baree. Half wolf, he +would always wag his tail. He tried to wag it now. Perhaps Kazan saw +the effort, for he emitted a muffled yelp of approbation as he sat back +on his haunches. + +Or he might have been saying to Gray Wolf: + +"Well, we've got the little rascal out of that windfall at last, +haven't we?" + +For Baree it had been a great day. He had discovered his father--and +the world. + + + +CHAPTER 2 + +And it was a wonderful world--a world of vast silence, empty of +everything but the creatures of the wild. The nearest Hudson's Bay post +was a hundred miles away, and the first town of civilization was a +straight three hundred to the south. Two years before, Tusoo, the Cree +trapper, had called this his domain. It had come down to him, as was +the law of the forests, through generations of forefathers. But Tusoo +had been the last of his worn-out family; he had died of smallpox, and +his wife and his children had died with him. Since then no human foot +had taken up his trails. The lynx had multiplied. The moose and caribou +had gone unhunted by man. The beaver had built their +homes--undisturbed. The tracks of the black bear were as thick as the +tracks of the deer farther south. And where once the deadfalls and +poison baits of Tusoo had kept the wolves thinned down, there was no +longer a menace for these mohekuns of the wilderness. + +Following the sun of this first wonderful day came the moon and the +stars of Baree's first real night. It was a splendid night, and with it +a full red moon sailed up over the forests, flooding the earth with a +new kind of light, softer and more beautiful to Baree. The wolf was +strong in him, and he was restless. He had slept that day in the warmth +of the sun, but he could not sleep in this glow of the moon. He nosed +uneasily about Gray Wolf, who lay flat on her belly, her beautiful head +alert, listening yearningly to the night sounds, and for the tonguing +of Kazan, who had slunk away like a shadow to hunt. + +Half a dozen times, as Baree wandered about near the windfall, he heard +a soft whir over his head, and once or twice he saw gray shadows +floating swiftly through the air. They were the big northern owls +swooping down to investigate him, and if he had been a rabbit instead +of a wolf dog whelp, his first night under the moon and stars would +have been his last; for unlike Wapoos, the rabbit, he was not cautious. +Gray Wolf did not watch him closely. Instinct told her that in these +forests there was no great danger for Baree except at the hands of man. +In his veins ran the blood of the wolf. He was a hunter of all other +wild creatures, but no other creature, either winged or fanged, hunted +him. + +In a way Baree sensed this. He was not afraid of the owls. He was not +afraid of the strange bloodcurdling cries they made in the black spruce +tops. But once fear entered into him, and he scurried back to his +mother. It was when one of the winged hunters of the air swooped down +on a snowshoe rabbit, and the squealing agony of the doomed creature +set his heart thumping like a little hammer. He felt in those cries the +nearness of that one ever-present tragedy of the wild--death. He felt +it again that night when, snuggled close to Gray Wolf, he listened to +the fierce outcry of a wolf pack that was close on the heels of a young +caribou bull. And the meaning of it all, and the wild thrill of it all, +came home to him early in the gray dawn when Kazan returned, holding +between his jaws a huge rabbit that was still kicking and squirming +with life. + +This rabbit was the climax in the first chapter of Baree's education. +It was as if Gray Wolf and Kazan had planned it all out, so that he +might receive his first instruction in the art of killing. When Kazan +had dropped it, Baree approached the big hare cautiously. The back of +Wapoos, the rabbit, was broken. His round eyes were glazed, and he had +ceased to feel pain. But to Baree, as he dug his tiny teeth into the +heavy fur under Wapoos's throat, the hare was very much alive. The +teeth did not go through into the flesh. With puppyish fierceness Baree +hung on. He thought that he was killing. He could feel the dying +convulsions of Wapoos. He could hear the last gasping breaths leaving +the warm body, and he snarled and tugged until finally he fell back +with a mouthful of fur. When he returned to the attack, Wapoos was +quite dead, and Baree continued to bite and snarl until Gray Wolf came +with her sharp fangs and tore the rabbit to pieces. After that followed +the feast. + +So Baree came to understand that to eat meant to kill, and as other +days and nights passed, there grew in him swiftly the hunger for flesh. +In this he was the true wolf. From Kazan he had taken other and +stronger inheritances of the dog. He was magnificently black, which in +later days gave him the name of Kusketa Mohekun--the black wolf. On his +breast was a white star. His right ear was tipped with white. His tail, +at six weeks, was bushy and hung low. It was a wolf's tail. His ears +were Gray Wolf's ears--sharp, short, pointed, always alert. His +foreshoulders gave promise of being splendidly like Kazan's, and when +he stood up he was like the trace dog, except that he always stood +sidewise to the point or object he was watching. This, again, was the +wolf, for a dog faces the direction in which he is looking intently. + +One brilliant night, when Baree was two months old, and when the sky +was filled with stars and a June moon so bright that it seemed scarcely +higher than the tall spruce tops, Baree settled back on his haunches +and howled. It was a first effort. But there was no mistake in the note +of it. It was the wolf howl. But a moment later when Baree slunk up to +Kazan, as if deeply ashamed of his effort, he was wagging his tail in +an unmistakably apologetic manner. And this again was the dog. If +Tusoo, the dead Indian trapper, could have seen him then, he would have +judged him by that wagging of his tail. It revealed the fact that deep +in his heart--and in his soul, if we can concede that he had one--Baree +was a dog. + +In another way Tusoo would have found judgment of him. At two months +the wolf whelp has forgotten how to play. He is a slinking part of the +wilderness, already at work preying on creatures smaller and more +helpless than himself. Baree still played. In his excursions away from +the windfall he had never gone farther than the creek, a hundred yards +from where his mother lay. He had helped to tear many dead and dying +rabbits into pieces. He believed, if he thought upon the matter at all, +that he was exceedingly fierce and courageous. But it was his ninth +week before he felt his spurs and fought his terrible battle with the +young owl in the edge of the thick forest. + +The fact that Oohoomisew, the big snow owl, had made her nest in a +broken stub not far from the windfall was destined to change the whole +course of Baree's life, just as the blinding of Gray Wolf had changed +hers, and a man's club had changed Kazan's. The creek ran close past +the stub, which had been shriven by lightning; and this stub stood in a +still, dark place in the forest, surrounded by tall, black spruce and +enveloped in gloom even in broad day. Many times Baree had gone to the +edge of this mysterious part of the forest and had peered in curiously, +and with a growing desire. + +On this day of his great battle its lure was overpowering. Little by +little he entered into it, his eyes shining brightly and his ears alert +for the slightest sounds that might come out of it. His heart beat +faster. The gloom enveloped him more. He forgot the windfall and Kazan +and Gray Wolf. Here before him lay the thrill of adventure. He heard +strange sounds, but very soft sounds, as if made by padded feet and +downy wings, and they filled him with a thrilling expectancy. Under his +feet there were no grass or weeds or flowers, but a wonderful brown +carpet of soft evergreen needles. They felt good to his feet, and were +so velvety that he could not hear his own movement. + +He was fully three hundred yards from the windfall when he passed +Oohoomisew's stub and into a thick growth of young balsams. And +there--directly in his path--crouched the monster! + +Papayuchisew [Young Owl] was not more than a third as large as Baree. +But he was a terrifying-looking object. To Baree he seemed all head and +eyes. He could see no body at all. Kazan had never brought in anything +like this, and for a full half-minute he remained very quiet, eying it +speculatively. Papayuchisew did not move a feather. But as Baree +advanced, a cautious step at a time, the bird's eyes grew bigger and +the feathers about his head ruffled up as if stirred by a puff of wind. +He came of a fighting family, this little Papayuchisew--a savage, +fearless, and killing family--and even Kazan would have taken note of +those ruffling feathers. + +With a space of two feet between them, the pup and the owlet eyed each +other. In that moment, if Gray Wolf could have been there, she might +have said to Baree: "Use your legs--and run!" And Oohoomisew, the old +owl, might have said to Papayuchisew: "You little fool--use your wings +and fly!" + +They did neither--and the fight began. + +Papayuchisew started it, and with a single wild yelp Baree went back in +a heap, the owlet's beak fastened like a red-hot vise in the soft flesh +at the end of his nose. That one yelp of surprise and pain was Baree's +first and last cry in the fight. The wolf surged in him; rage and the +desire to kill possessed him. As Papayuchisew hung on, he made a +curious hissing sound; and as Baree rolled and gnashed his teeth and +fought to free himself from that amazing grip on his nose, fierce +little snarls rose out of his throat. + +For fully a minute Baree had no use of his jaws. Then, by accident, he +wedged Papayuchisew in a crotch of a low ground shrub, and a bit of his +nose gave way. He might have run then, but instead of that he was back +at the owlet like a flash. Flop went Papayuchisew on his back, and +Baree buried his needlelike teeth in the bird's breast. It was like +trying to bite through a pillow, the feathers fangs, and just as they +were beginning to prick the owlet's skin, Papayuchisew--jabbing a +little blindly with a beak that snapped sharply every time it +closed--got him by the ear. + +The pain of that hold was excruciating to Baree, and he made a more +desperate effort to get his teeth through his enemy's thick armor of +feathers. In the struggle they rolled under the low balsams to the edge +of the ravine through which ran the creek. Over the steep edge they +plunged, and as they rolled and bumped to the bottom, Baree loosed his +hold. Papayuchisew hung valiantly on, and when they reached the bottom +he still had his grip on Baree's ear. + +Baree's nose was bleeding. His ear felt as if it were being pulled from +his head; and in this uncomfortable moment a newly awakened instinct +made Baby Papayuchisew discover his wings as a fighting asset. An owl +has never really begun to fight until he uses his wings, and with a +joyous hissing, Papayuchisew began beating his antagonist so fast and +so viciously that Baree was dazed. He was compelled to close his eyes, +and he snapped blindly. For the first time since the battle began he +felt a strong inclination to get away. He tried to tear himself free +with his forepaws, but Papayuchisew--slow to reason but of firm +conviction--hung to Baree's ear like grim fate. + +At this critical point, when the understanding of defeat was forming +itself swiftly in Baree's mind, chance saved him. His fangs closed on +one of the owlet's tender feet. Papayuchisew gave a sudden squeak. The +ear was free at last--and with a snarl of triumph Baree gave a vicious +tug at Papayuchisew's leg. + +In the excitement of battle he had not heard the rushing tumult of the +creek close under them, and over the edge of a rock Papayuchisew and he +went together, the chill water of the rain-swollen stream muffling a +final snarl and a final hiss of the two little fighters. + + + +CHAPTER 3 + +To Papayuchisew, after his first mouthful of water, the stream was +almost as safe as the air, for he went sailing down it with the +lightness of a gull, wondering in his slow-thinking big head why he was +moving so swiftly and so pleasantly without any effort of his own. + +To Baree it was a different matter. He went down almost like a stone. A +mighty roaring filled his ears; it was dark, suffocating, terrible. In +the swift current he was twisted over and over. For a distance of +twenty feet he was under water. Then he rose to the surface and +desperately began using his legs. It was of little use. He had only +time to blink once or twice and catch a lungful of air when he shot +into a current that was running like a millrace between the butts of +two fallen trees, and for another twenty feet the sharpest eyes could +not have seen hair or hide of him. He came up again at the edge of a +shallow riffle over which the water ran like the rapids at Niagara in +miniature, and for fifty or sixty yards he was flung along like a hairy +ball. From this he was hurled into a deep, cold pool. And then--half +dead--he found himself crawling out on a gravelly bar. + +For a long time Baree lay there in a pool of sunlight without moving. +His ear hurt him; his nose was raw, and burned as if he had thrust it +into fire. His legs and body were sore, and as he began to wander along +the gravel bar, he was quite probably the most wretched pup in the +world. He was also completely turned around. In vain he looked about +him for some familiar mark--something that might guide him back to his +windfall home. Everything was strange. He did not know that the water +had flung him out on the wrong side of the stream, and that to reach +the windfall he would have to cross it again. He whined, but that was +as loud as his voice rose. Gray Wolf could have heard his barking, for +the windfall was not more than two hundred and fifty yards up the +stream. But the wolf in Baree held him silent, except for his low +whining. + +Striking the main shore, Baree began going downstream. This was away +from the windfall, and each step that he took carried him farther and +farther from home. Every little while he stopped and listened. The +forest was deeper. It was growing blacker and more mysterious. Its +silence was frightening. At the end of half an hour Baree would even +have welcomed Papayuchisew. And he would not have fought him--he would +have inquired, if possible, the way back home. + +Baree was fully three-quarters of a mile from the windfall when he came +to a point where the creek split itself into two channels. He had but +one choice to follow--the stream that flowed a little south and east. +This stream did not run swiftly. It was not filled with shimmering +riffles, and rocks about which the water sang and foamed. It grew +black, like the forest. It was still and deep. Without knowing it, +Baree was burying himself deeper and deeper into Tusoo's old trapping +grounds. Since Tusoo had died, they had lain undisturbed except for the +wolves, for Gray Wolf and Kazan had not hunted on this side of the +waterway--and the wolves themselves preferred the more open country for +the chase. + +Suddenly Baree found himself at the edge of a deep, dark pool in which +the water lay still as oil, and his heart nearly jumped out of his body +when a great, sleek, shining creature sprang out from almost under his +nose and landed with a tremendous splash in the center of it. It was +Nekik, the otter. + +The otter had not heard Baree, and in another moment Napanekik, his +wife, came sailing out of a patch of gloom, and behind her came three +little otters, leaving behind them four shimmering wakes in the +oily-looking water. What happened after that made Baree forget for a +few minutes that he was lost. Nekik had disappeared under the surface, +and now he came up directly under his unsuspecting mate with a force +that lifted her half out of the water. Instantly he was gone again, and +Napanekik took after him fiercely. To Baree it did not look like play. +Two of the baby otters had pitched on the third, which seemed to be +fighting desperately. The chill and ache went out of Baree's body. His +blood ran excitedly. He forgot himself, and let out a bark. In a flash +the otters disappeared. For several minutes the water in the pool +continued to rock and heave--and that was all. After a little, Baree +drew himself back into the bushes and went on. + +It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun should still +have been well up in the sky. But it was growing darker steadily, and +the strangeness and fear of it all lent greater speed to Baree's legs. +He stopped every little while to listen, and at one of these intervals +he heard a sound that drew from him a responsive and joyous whine. It +was a distant howl--a wolf's howl--straight ahead of him. Baree was not +thinking of wolves but of Kazan, and he ran through the gloom of the +forest until he was winded. Then he stopped and listened a long time. +The wolf howl did not come again. Instead of it there rolled up from +the west a deep and thunderous rumble. Through the tree-tops there +flashed a vivid streak of lightning. A moaning whisper of wind rode in +advance of the storm. The thunder sounded nearer; and a second flash of +lightning seemed searching Baree out where he stood shivering under a +canopy of great spruce. + +This was his second storm. The first had frightened him terribly, and +he had crawled far back into the shelter of the windfall. The best he +could find now was a hollow under a big root, and into this he slunk, +crying softly. It was a babyish cry, a cry for his mother, for home, +for warmth, for something soft and protecting to nestle up to. And as +he cried, the storm burst over the forest. + +Baree had never before heard so much noise, and he had never seen the +lightning play in such sheets of fire as when this June deluge fell. It +seemed at times as though the whole world were aflame, and the earth +seemed to shake and roll under the crashes of the thunder. He ceased +his crying and made himself as small as he could under the root, which +protected him partly from the terrific beat of the rain which came down +through the treetops in a flood. It was now so black that except when +the lightning ripped great holes in the gloom he could not see the +spruce trunks twenty feet away. Twice that distance from Baree there +was a huge dead stub that stood out like a ghost each time the fires +swept the sky, as if defying the flaming hands up there to strike--and +strike, at last, one of them did! A bluish tongue of snapping flame ran +down the old stub; and as it touched the earth, there came a tremendous +explosion above the treetops. The massive stub shivered, and then it +broke asunder as if cloven by a gigantic ax. It crashed down so close +to Baree that earth and sticks flew about him, and he let out a wild +yelp of terror as he tried to crowd himself deeper into the shallow +hole under the root. + +With the destruction of the old stub the thunder and lightning seemed +to have vented their malevolence. The thunder passed on into the south +and east like the rolling of ten thousand heavy cart wheels over the +roofs of the forest, and the lightning went with it. The rain fell +steadily. The hole in which he had taken shelter was partly filled with +water. He was drenched. His teeth chattered as he waited for the next +thing to happen. + +It was a long wait. When the rain finally stopped, and the sky cleared, +it was night. Through the tops of the trees Baree could have seen the +stars if he had poked out his head and looked upward. But he clung to +his hole. Hour after hour passed. Exhausted, half drowned, footsore, +and hungry, he did not move. At last he fell into a troubled sleep, a +sleep in which every now and then he cried softly and forlornly for his +mother. When he ventured out from under the root it was morning, and +the sun was shining. + +At first Baree could hardly stand. His legs were cramped. Every bone in +his body seemed out of joint. His ear was stiff where the blood had +oozed out of it and hardened, and when he tried to wrinkle his wounded +nose, he gave a sharp little yap of pain. If such a thing were +possible, he looked even worse than he felt. His hair had dried in +muddy patches; he was dirt-stained from end to end; and where yesterday +he had been plump and shiny, he was now as thin and wretched as +misfortune could possibly make him. And he was hungry. He had never +before known what it meant to be really hungry. + +When he went on, continuing in the direction he had been following +yesterday, he slunk along in a disheartened sort of way. His head and +ears were no longer alert, and his curiosity was gone. He was not only +stomach hungry: mother hunger rose above his physical yearning for +something to eat. He wanted his mother as he had never wanted her +before in his life. He wanted to snuggle his shivering little body +close up to her and feel the warm caressing of her tongue and listen to +the mothering whine of her voice. And he wanted Kazan, and the old +windfall, and that big blue spot that was in the sky right over it. As +he followed again along the edge of the creek, he whimpered for them as +a child might grieve. + +The forest grew more open after a time, and this cheered him up a +little. Also the warmth of the sun was taking the ache out of his body. +But he grew hungrier and hungrier. He always had depended entirely on +Kazan and Gray Wolf for food. His parents had, in some ways, made a +great baby of him. Gray Wolf's blindness accounted for this, for since +his birth she had not taken up her hunting with Kazan, and it was quite +natural that Baree should stick close to her, though more than once he +had been filled with a great yearning to follow his father. Nature was +hard at work trying to overcome its handicap now. It was struggling to +impress on Baree that the time had now come when he must seek his own +food. The fact impinged itself upon him slowly but steadily, and he +began to think of the three or four shellfish he had caught and +devoured on the stony creek bar near the windfall. He also remembered +the open clamshell he had found, and the lusciousness of the tender +morsel inside it. A new excitement began to possess him. He became, all +at once, a hunter. + +With the thinning out of the forest the creek grew more shallow. It ran +again over bars of sand and stones, and Baree began to nose along the +edge of the shallows. For a long time he had no success. The few +crayfish that he saw were exceedingly lively and elusive, and all the +clamshells were shut so tight that even Kazan's powerful jaws would +have had difficulty in smashing them. It was almost noon when he caught +his first crayfish, about as big as a man's forefinger. He devoured it +ravenously. The taste of food gave him fresh courage. He caught two +more crayfish during the afternoon. It was almost dusk when he stirred +a young rabbit out from under a cover of grass. If he had been a month +older, he could have caught it. He was still very hungry, for three +crayfish--scattered through the day--had not done much to fill the +emptiness that was growing steadily in him. + +With the approach of night Baree's fears and great loneliness returned. +Before the day had quite gone he found soft bed of sand. Since his +fight with Papayuchisew, he had traveled a long distance, and the rock +under which he made his bed this night was at least eight or nine miles +from the windfall. It was in the open of the creek bottom, with and +when the moon rose, and the stars filled the sky, Baree could look out +and see the water of the stream shimmering in a glow almost as bright +as day. Directly in front of him, running to the water's edge, was a +broad carpet of white sand. Across this sand, half an hour later, came +a huge black bear. + +Until Baree had seen the otters at play in the creek, his conceptions +of the forests had not gone beyond his own kind, and such creatures as +owls and rabbits and small feathered things. The otters had not +frightened him, because he still measured things by size, and Nekik was +not half as big as Kazan. But the bear was a monster beside which Kazan +would have stood a mere pygmy. He was big. If nature was taking this +way of introducing Baree to the fact that there were more important +creatures in the forests than dogs and wolves and owls and crayfish, +she was driving the point home with a little more than necessary +emphasis. For Wakayoo, the bear, weighed six hundred pounds if he +weighed an ounce. He was fat and sleek from a month's feasting on fish. +His shiny coat was like black velvet in the moonlight, and he walked +with a curious rolling motion with his head hung low. The horror grew +when he stopped broadside in the carpet of sand not more than ten feet +from the rock under which Baree was shivering. + +It was quite evident that Wakayoo had caught scent of him in the air. +Baree could hear him sniff--could hear his breathing--caught the +starlight flashing in his reddish-brown eyes as they swung suspiciously +toward the big boulder. If Baree could have known then that he--his +insignificant little self--was making that monster actually nervous and +uneasy, he would have given a yelp of joy. For Wakayoo, in spite of his +size, was somewhat of a coward when it came to wolves. And Baree +carried the wolf scent. It grew stronger in Wakayoo's nose; and just +then, as if to increase whatever nervousness was growing in him, there +came from out of the forest behind him a long and wailing howl. + +With an audible grunt, Wakayoo moved on. Wolves were pests, he argued. +They wouldn't stand up and fight. They'd snap and yap at one's heels +for hours at a time, and were always out of the way quicker than a wink +when one turned on them. What was the use of hanging around where there +were wolves, on a beautiful night like this? He lumbered on decisively. +Baree could hear him splashing heavily through the water of the creek. +Not until then did the wolf dog draw a full breath. It was almost a +gasp. + +But the excitement was not over for the night. Baree had chosen his bed +at a place where the animals came down to drink, and where they crossed +from one of the creek forests to the other. Not long after the bear had +disappeared he heard a heavy crunching in the sand, and hoofs rattling +against stones, and a bull moose with a huge sweep of antlers passed +through the open space in the moonlight. Baree stared with popping +eyes, for if Wakayoo had weighed six hundred pounds, this gigantic +creature whose legs were so long that it seemed to be walking on stilts +weighed at least twice as much. A cow moose followed, and then a calf. + +The calf seemed all legs. It was too much for Baree, and he shoved +himself farther and farther back under the rock until he lay wedged in +like a sardine in a box. And there he lay until morning. + + + +CHAPTER 4 + +When Baree ventured forth from under his rock at the beginning of the +next day, he was a much older puppy than when he met Papayuchisew, the +young owl, in his path near the old windfall. If experience can be made +to take the place of age, he had aged a great deal in the last +forty-eight hours. In fact, he had passed almost out of puppyhood. He +awoke with a new and much broader conception of the world. It was a big +place. It was filled with many things, of which Kazan and Gray Wolf +were not the most important. The monsters he had seen on the moonlit +plot of sand had roused in him a new kind of caution, and the one +greatest instinct of beasts--the primal understanding that it is the +strong that prey upon the weak--was wakening swiftly in him. As yet he +quite naturally measured brute force and the menace of things by size +alone. Thus the bear was more terrible than Kazan, and the moose was +more terrible than the bear. + +It was quite fortunate for Baree that this instinct did not go to the +limit in the beginning and make him understand that his own breed--the +wolf--was most feared of all the creatures, claw, hoof, and wing, of +the forests. Otherwise, like the small boy who thinks he can swim +before he has mastered a stroke, he might somewhere have jumped in +beyond his depth and had his head chewed off. + +Very much alert, with the hair standing up along his spine, and a +little growl in his throat, Baree smelled of the big footprints made by +the bear and the moose. It was the bear scent that made him growl. He +followed the tracks to the edge of the creek. After that he resumed his +wandering, and also his hunt for food. + +For two hours he did not find a crayfish. Then he came out of the green +timber into the edge of a burned-over country. Here everything was +black. The stumps of the trees stood up like huge charred canes. It was +a comparatively fresh "burn" of last autumn, and the ash was still soft +under Baree's feet. Straight through this black region ran the creek, +and over it hung a blue sky in which the sun was shining. It was quite +inviting to Baree. The fox, the wolf, the moose, and the caribou would +have turned back from the edge of this dead country. In another year it +would be good hunting ground, but now it was lifeless. Even the owls +would have found nothing to eat out there. + +It was the blue sky and the sun and the softness of the earth under his +feet that lured Baree. It was pleasant to travel in after his painful +experiences in the forest. He continued to follow the stream, though +there was now little possibility of his finding anything to eat. The +water had become sluggish and dark. The channel was choked with charred +debris that had fallen into it when the forest had burned, and its +shores were soft and muddy. After a time, when Baree stopped and looked +about him, he could no longer see the green timber he had left. He was +alone in that desolate wilderness of charred tree corpses. It was as +still as death, too. Not the chirp of a bird broke the silence. In the +soft ash he could not hear the fall of his own feet. But he was not +frightened. There was the assurance of safety here. + +If he could only find something to eat! That was the master thought +that possessed Baree. Instinct had not yet impressed upon him that this +which he saw all about him was starvation. He went on, seeking +hopefully for food. But at last, as the hours passed, hope began to die +in him. The sun sank westward. The sky grew less blue; a low wind began +to ride over the tops of the stubs, and now and then one of them fell +with a startling crash. + +Baree could go no farther. An hour before dusk he lay down in the open, +weak and starved. The sun disappeared behind the forest. The moon +rolled up from the east. The sky glittered with stars--and all through +the night Baree lay as if dead. When morning came, he dragged himself +to the stream for a drink. With his last strength he went on. It was +the wolf urging him--compelling him to struggle to the last for his +life. The dog in him wanted to lie down and die. But the wolf spark in +him burned stronger. In the end it won. Half a mile farther on he came +again to the green timber. + +In the forests as well as in the great cities fate plays its changing +and whimsical hand. If Baree had dragged himself into the timber half +an hour later he would have died. He was too far gone now to hunt for +crayfish or kill the weakest bird. But he came just as Sekoosew, the +ermine, the most bloodthirsty little pirate of all the wild--was making +a kill. + +That was fully a hundred yards from where Baree lay stretched out under +a spruce, almost ready to give up the ghost. Sekoosew was a mighty +hunter of his kind. His body was about seven inches long, with a tiny +black-tipped tail appended to it, and he weighed perhaps five ounces. A +baby's fingers could have encircled him anywhere between his four legs, +and his little sharp-pointed head with its beady red eyes could slip +easily through a hole an inch in diameter. For several centuries +Sekoosew had helped to make history. It was he--when his pelt was worth +a hundred dollars in king's gold--that lured the first shipload of +gentlemen adventurers over the sea, with Prince Rupert at their head. +It was little Sekoosew who was responsible for the forming of the great +Hudson's Bay Company and the discovery of half a continent. For almost +three centuries he had fought his fight for existence with the trapper. +And now, though he was no longer worth his weight in yellow gold, he +was the cleverest, the fiercest, and the most merciless of all the +creatures that made up his world. + +As Baree lay under his tree, Sekoosew was creeping on his prey. His +game was a big fat spruce hen standing under a thicket of black currant +bushes. The ear of no living thing could have heard Sekoosew's +movement. He was like a shadow--a gray dot here, a flash there, now +hidden behind a stick no larger than a man's wrist, appearing for a +moment, the next instant gone as completely as if he had not existed. +Thus he approached from fifty feet to within three feet of the spruce +hen. That was his favorite striking distance. Unerringly he launched +himself at the drowsy partridge's throat, and his needlelike teeth sank +through feathers into flesh. + +Sekoosew was prepared for what happened then. It always happened when +he attacked Napanao, the wood partridge. Her wings were powerful, and +her first instinct when he struck was always that of flight. She rose +straight up now with a great thunder of wings. Sekoosew hung tight, his +teeth buried deep in her throat, and his tiny, sharp claws clinging to +her like hands. Through the air he whizzed with her, biting deeper and +deeper, until a hundred yards from where that terrible death thing had +fastened to her throat, Napanao crashed again to earth. + +Where she fell was not ten feet from Baree. For a few moments he looked +at the struggling mass of feathers in a daze, not quite comprehending +that at last food was almost within his reach. Napanao was dying, but +she still struggled convulsively with her wings. Baree rose stealthily, +and after a moment in which he gathered all his remaining strength, he +made a rush for her. His teeth sank into her breast--and not until then +did he see Sekoosew. The ermine had raised his head from the death grip +at the partridge's throat, and his savage little red eyes glared for a +single instant into Baree's. Here was something too big to kill, and +with an angry squeak the ermine was gone. Napanao's wings relaxed, and +the throb went out of her body. She was dead. Baree hung on until he +was sure. Then he began his feast. + +With murder in his heart, Sekoosew hovered near, whisking here and +there but never coming nearer than half a dozen feet from Baree. His +eyes were redder than ever. Now and then he emitted a sharp little +squeak of rage. Never had he been so angry in all his life! To have a +fat partridge stolen from him like this was an imposition he had never +suffered before. He wanted to dart in and fasten his teeth in Baree's +jugular. But he was too good a general to make the attempt, too good a +Napoleon to jump deliberately to his Waterloo. An owl he would have +fought. He might even have given battle to his big brother--and his +deadliest enemy--the mink. But in Baree he recognized the wolf breed, +and he vented his spite at a distance. After a time his good sense +returned, and he went off on another hunt. + +Baree ate a third of the partridge, and the remaining two thirds he +cached very carefully at the foot of the big spruce. Then he hurried +down to the creek for a drink. The world looked very different to him +now. After all, one's capacity for happiness depends largely on how +deeply one has suffered. One's hard luck and misfortune form the +measuring stick for future good luck and fortune. So it was with Baree. +Forty-eight hours ago a full stomach would not have made him a tenth +part as happy as he was now. Then his greatest longing was for his +mother. Since then a still greater yearning had come into his life--for +food. In a way it was fortunate for him that he had almost died of +exhaustion and starvation, for his experience had helped to make a man +of him--or a wolf dog, just as you are of a mind to put it. He would +miss his mother for a long time. But he would never miss her again as +he had missed her yesterday and the day before. + +That afternoon Baree took a long nap close to his cache. Then he +uncovered the partridge and ate his supper. When his fourth night alone +came, he did not hide himself as he had done on the three preceding +nights. He was strangely and curiously alert. Under the moon and the +stars he prowled in the edge of the forest and out on the burn. He +listened with a new kind of thrill to the faraway cry of a wolf pack on +the hunt. He listened to the ghostly whoo-whoo-whoo of the owls without +shivering. Sounds and silences were beginning to hold a new and +significant note for him. + +For another day and night Baree remained in the vicinity of his cache. +When the last bone was picked, he moved on. He now entered a country +where subsistence was no longer a perilous problem for him. It was a +lynx country, and where there are lynx, there are also a great many +rabbits. When the rabbits thin out, the lynx emigrate to better hunting +grounds. As the snowshoe rabbit breeds all the summer through, Baree +found himself in a land of plenty. It was not difficult for him to +catch and kill the young rabbits. For a week he prospered and grew +bigger and stronger each day. But all the time, stirred by that +seeking, wanderlust spirit--still hoping to find the old home and his +mother--he traveled into the north and east. + +And this was straight into the trapping country of Pierrot, the +half-breed. + +Pierrot, until two years ago, had believed himself to be one of the +most fortunate men in the big wilderness. That was before La Mort +Rouge--the Red Death--came. He was half French, and he had married a +Cree chief's daughter, and in their log cabin on the Gray Loon they had +lived for many years in great prosperity and happiness. Pierrot was +proud of three things in this wild world of his. He was immensely proud +of Wyola, his royal-blooded wife. He was proud of his daughter; and he +was proud of his reputation as a hunter. Until the Red Death came, life +was quite complete for him. It was then--two years ago--that the +smallpox killed his princess wife. He still lived in the little cabin +on the Gray Loon, but he was a different Pierrot. The heart was sick in +him. It would have died, had it not been for Nepeese, his daughter. His +wife had named her Nepeese, which means the Willow. + +Nepeese had grown up like the willow, slender as a reed, with all her +mother's wild beauty, and with a little of the French thrown in. She +was sixteen, with great, dark, wonderful eyes, and hair so beautiful +that an agent from Montreal passing that way had once tried to buy it. +It fell in two shining braids, each as big as a man's wrist, almost to +her knees. "Non, M'sieu," Pierrot had said, a cold glitter in his eyes +as he saw what was in the agent's face. "It is not for barter." + +Two days after Baree had entered his trapping ground, Pierrot came in +from the forests with a troubled look in his face. + +"Something is killing off the young beavers," he explained to Nepeese, +speaking to her in French. "It is a lynx or a wolf. Tomorrow--" He +shrugged his thin shoulders, and smiled at her. + +"We will go on the hunt," laughed Nepeese happily, in her soft Cree. + +When Pierrot smiled at her like that, and began with "Tomorrow," it +always meant that she might go with him on the adventure he was +contemplating. + + +Still another day later, at the end of the afternoon, Baree crossed the +Gray Loon on a bridge of driftwood that had wedged between two trees. +This was to the north. Just beyond the driftwood bridge there was a +small clearing, and on the edge of it Baree paused to enjoy the last of +the setting sun. As he stood motionless and listening, his tail +drooping low, his ears alert, his sharp-pointed nose sniffing the new +country to the north, there was not a pair of eyes in the forest that +would not have taken him for a young wolf. + +From behind a clump of young balsams, a hundred yards away, Pierrot and +Nepeese had watched him come over the driftwood bridge. Now was the +time, and Pierrot leveled his rifle. It was not until then that Nepeese +touched his arm softly. Her breath came a little excitedly as she +whispered: + +"Nootawe, let me shoot. I can kill him!" + +With a low chuckle Pierrot gave the gun to her. He counted the whelp as +already dead. For Nepeese, at that distance, could send a bullet into +an inch square nine times out of ten. And Nepeese, aiming carefully at +Baree, pressed steadily with her brown forefinger upon the trigger. + + + +CHAPTER 5 + +As the Willow pulled the trigger of her rifle, Baree sprang into the +air. He felt the force of the bullet before he heard the report of the +gun. It lifted him off his feet, and then sent him rolling over and +over as if he had been struck a hideous blow with a club. For a flash +he did not feel pain. Then it ran through him like a knife of fire, and +with that pain the dog in him rose above the wolf, and he let out a +wild outcry of puppyish yapping as he rolled and twisted on the ground. + +Pierrot and Nepeese had stepped from behind the balsams, the Willow's +beautiful eyes shining with pride at the accuracy of her shot. +Instantly she caught her breath. Her brown fingers clutched at the +barrel of her rifle. The chuckle of satisfaction died on Pierrot's lips +as Baree's cries of pain filled the forest. + +"Uchi moosis!" gasped Nepeese, in her Cree. + +Pierrot caught the rifle from her. + +"Diable! A dog--a puppy!" he cried. + +He started on a run for Baree. But in their amazement they had lost a +few seconds and Baree's dazed senses were returning. He saw them +clearly as they came across the open--a new kind of monster of the +forests! With a final wail he darted back into the deep shadows of the +trees. It was almost sunset, and he ran for the thick gloom of the +heavy spruce near the creek. He had shivered at sight of the bear and +the moose, but for the first time he now sensed the real meaning of +danger. And it was close after him. He could hear the crashing of the +two-legged beasts in pursuit; strange cries were almost at his +heels--and then suddenly he plunged without warning into a hole. + +It was a shock to have the earth go out from under his feet like that, +but Baree did not yelp. The wolf was dominant in him again. It urged +him to remain where he was, making no move, no sound--scarcely +breathing. The voices were over him; the strange feet almost stumbled +in the hole where he lay. Looking out of his dark hiding place, he +could see one of his enemies. It was Nepeese, the Willow. She was +standing so that a last glow of the day fell upon her face. Baree did +not take his eyes from her. + +Above his pain there rose in him a strange and thrilling fascination. +The girl put her two hands to her mouth and in a voice that was soft +and plaintive and amazingly comforting to his terrified little heart, +cried: + +"Uchimoo--Uchimoo--Uchimoo!" + +And then he heard another voice; and this voice, too, was far less +terrible than many sounds he had listened to in the forests. + +"We cannot find him, Nepeese," the voice was saying. "He has crawled +off to die. It is too bad. Come." + +Where Baree had stood in the edge of the open Pierrot paused and +pointed to a birch sapling that had been cut clean off by the Willow's +bullet. Nepeese understood. The sapling, no larger than her thumb, had +turned her shot a trifle and had saved Baree from instant death. She +turned again, and called: + +"Uchimoo--Uchimoo--Uchimoo!" + +Her eyes were no longer filled with the thrill of slaughter. + +"He would not understand that," said Pierrot, leading the way across +the open. "He is wild--born of the wolves. Perhaps he was of Koomo's +lead bitch, who ran away to hunt with the packs last winter." + +"And he will die--" + +"Ayetun--yes, he will die." + +But Baree had no idea of dying. He was too tough a youngster to be +shocked to death by a bullet passing through the soft flesh of his +foreleg. That was what had happened. His leg was torn to the bone, but +the bone itself was untouched. He waited until the moon had risen +before he crawled out of his hole. + +His leg had grown stiff, but it had stopped bleeding, though his whole +body was racked by a terrible pain. A dozen Papayuchisews, all holding +right to his ears and nose, could not have hurt him more. Every time he +moved, a sharp twinge shot through him; and yet he persisted in moving. +Instinctively he felt that by traveling away from the hole he would get +away from danger. This was the best thing that could have happened to +him, for a little later a porcupine came wandering along, chattering to +itself in its foolish, good-humored way, and fell with a fat thud into +the hole. Had Baree remained, he would have been so full of quills that +he must surely have died. + +In another way the exercise of travel was good for Baree. It gave his +wound no opportunity to "set," as Pierrot would have said, for in +reality his hurt was more painful than serious. For the first hundred +yards he hobbled along on three legs, and after that he found that he +could use his fourth by humoring it a great deal. He followed the creek +for a half mile. Whenever a bit of brush touched his wound, he would +snap at it viciously, and instead of whimpering when he felt one of the +sharp twinges shooting through him, an angry little growl gathered in +his throat, and his teeth clicked. Now that he was out of the hole, the +effect of the Willow's shot was stirring every drop of wolf blood in +his body. In him there was a growing animosity--a feeling of rage not +against any one thing in particular, but against all things. It was not +the feeling with which he had fought Papayuchisew, the young owl. On +this night the dog in him had disappeared. An accumulation of +misfortunes had descended upon him, and out of these misfortunes--and +his present hurt--the wolf had risen savage and vengeful. + +This was the first time Baree had traveled at night. He was, for the +time, unafraid of anything that might creep up on him out of the +darkness. The blackest shadows had lost their terror. It was the first +big fight between the two natures that were born in him--the wolf and +the dog--and the dog was vanquished. Now and then he stopped to lick +his wound, and as he licked it he growled, as though for the hurt +itself he held a personal antagonism. If Pierrot could have seen and +heard, he would have understood very quickly, and he would have said: +"Let him die. The club will never take that devil out of him." + +In this humor Baree came, an hour later, out of the heavy timber of the +creek bottom into the more open spaces of a small plain that ran along +the foot of a ridge. It was in this plain that Oohoomisew hunted. +Oohoomisew was a huge snow owl. He was the patriarch among all the owls +of Pierrot's trapping domain. He was so old that he was almost blind, +and therefore he never hunted as other owls hunted. He did not hide +himself in the black cover of spruce and balsam tops, or float softly +through the night, ready in an instant to swoop down upon his prey. His +eyesight was so poor that from a spruce top he could not have seen a +rabbit at all, and he might have mistaken a fox for a mouse. + +So old Oohoomisew, learning wisdom from experience, hunted from ambush. +He would squat on the ground, and for hours at a time he would remain +there without making a sound and scarcely moving a feather, waiting +with the patience of Job for something to eat to come his way. Now and +then he had made mistakes. Twice he had mistaken a lynx for a rabbit, +and in the second attack he had lost a foot, so that when he slumbered +aloft during the day he clung to his perch with one claw. Crippled, +nearly blind, and so old that he had long ago lost the tufts of +feathers over his ears, he was still a giant in strength, and when he +was angry, one could hear the snap of his beak twenty yards away. + +For three nights he had been unlucky, and tonight he had been +particularly unfortunate. Two rabbits had come his way, and he had +lunged at each of them from his cover. The first he had missed +entirely; the second had left with him a mouthful of fur--and that was +all. He was ravenously hungry, and he was gritting his bill in his bad +temper when he heard Baree approaching. + +Even if Baree could have seen under the dark bush ahead, and had +discovered Oohoomisew ready to dart from his ambush, it is not likely +that he would have gone very far aside. His own fighting blood was up. +He, too, was ready for war. + +Very indistinctly Oohoomisew saw him at last, coming across the little +open space which he was watching. He squatted down. His feathers +ruffled up until he was like a ball. His almost sightless eyes glowed +like two bluish pools of fire. Ten feet away, Baree stopped for a +moment and licked his wound. Oohoomisew waited cautiously. Again Baree +advanced, passing within six feet of the bush. With a swift hop and a +sudden thunder of his powerful wings the great owl was upon him. + +This time Baree let out no cry of pain or of fright. The wolf is +kipichi-mao, as the Indians say. No hunter ever heard a trapped wolf +whine for mercy at the sting of a bullet or the beat of a club. He dies +with his fangs bared. Tonight it was a wolf whelp that Oohoomisew was +attacking, and not a dog pup. The owl's first rush keeled Baree over, +and for a moment he was smothered under the huge, outspread wings, +while Oohoomisew--pinioning him down--hopped for a claw hold with his +one good foot, and struck fiercely with his beak. + +One blow of that beak anywhere about the head would have settled for a +rabbit, but at the first thrust Oohoomisew discovered that it was not a +rabbit he was holding under his wings. A bloodcurdling snarl answered +the blow, and Oohoomisew remembered the lynx, his lost foot, and his +narrow escape with his life. The old pirate might have beaten a +retreat, but Baree was no longer the puppyish Baree of that hour in +which he had fought young Papayuchisew. Experience and hardship had +aged and strengthened him. His jaws had passed quickly from the +bone-licking to the bone-cracking age--and before Oohoomisew could get +away, if he was thinking of flight at all, Baree's fangs closed with a +vicious snap on his one good leg. + +In the stillness of night there rose a still greater thunder of wings, +and for a few moments Baree closed his eyes to keep from being blinded +by Oohoomisew's furious blows. But he hung on grimly, and as his teeth +met through the flesh of the old night-pirate's leg, his angry snarl +carried defiance to Oohoomisew's ears. Rare good fortune had given him +that grip on the leg, and Baree knew that triumph or defeat depended on +his ability to hold it. The old owl had no other claw to sink into him, +and it was impossible--caught as he was--for him to tear at Baree with +his beak. So he continued to beat that thunder of blows with his +four-foot wings. + +The wings made a great tumult about Baree, but they did not hurt him. +He buried his fangs deeper. His snarls rose more fiercely as he got the +taste of Oohoomisew's blood, and through him there surged more hotly +the desire to kill this monster of the night, as though in the death of +this creature he had the opportunity of avenging himself for all the +hurts and hardships that had befallen him since he had lost his mother. + +Oohoomisew had never felt a great fear until now. The lynx had snapped +at him but once--and was gone, leaving him crippled. But the lynx had +not snarled in that wolfish way, and it had not hung on. A thousand and +one nights Oohoomisew had listened to the wolf howl. Instinct had told +him what it meant. He had seen the packs pass swiftly through the +night, and always when they passed he had kept in the deepest shadows. +To him, as for all other wild things, the wolf howl stood for death. +But until now, with Baree's fangs buried in his leg, he had never +sensed fully the wolf fear. It had taken it years to enter into his +slow, stupid head--but now that it was there, it possessed him as no +other thing had ever possessed him in all his life. + +Suddenly Oohoomisew ceased his beating and launched himself upward. +Like huge fans his powerful wings churned the air, and Baree felt +himself lifted suddenly from the earth. Still he held on--and in a +moment both bird and beast fell back with a thud. + +Oohoomisew tried again. This time he was more successful, and he rose +fully six feet into the air with Baree. They fell again. A third time +the old outlaw fought to wing himself free of Baree's grip; and then, +exhausted, he lay with his giant wings outspread, hissing and cracking +his bill. + +Under those wings Baree's mind worked with the swift instincts of the +killer. Suddenly he changed his hold, burying his fangs into the under +part of Oohoomisew's body. They sank into three inches of feathers. +Swift as Baree had been, Oohoomisew was equally swift to take advantage +of his opportunity. In an instant he had swooped upward. There was a +jerk, a rending of feathers from flesh--and Baree was alone on the +field of battle. + +Baree had not killed, but he had conquered. His first great day--or +night--had come. The world was filled with a new promise for him, as +vast as the night itself. And after a moment he sat back on his +haunches, sniffing the air for his beaten enemy. Then, as if defying +the feathered monster to come back and fight to the end, he pointed his +sharp little muzzle up to the stars and sent forth his first babyish +wolf howl into the night. + + + +CHAPTER 6 + +Baree's fight with Oohoomisew was good medicine for him. It not only +gave him great confidence in himself, but it also cleared the fever of +ugliness from his blood. He no longer snapped and snarled at things as +he went on through the night. + +It was a wonderful night. The moon was straight overhead, and the sky +was filled with stars, so that in the open spaces the light was almost +like that of day, except that it was softer and more beautiful. It was +very still. There was no wind in the treetops, and it seemed to Baree +that the howl he had given must have echoed to the end of the world. + +Now and then Baree heard a sound--and always he stopped, attentive and +listening. Far away he heard the long, soft mooing of a cow moose. He +heard a great splashing in the water of a small lake that he came to, +and once there came to him the sharp cracking of horn against horn--two +bucks settling a little difference of opinion a quarter of a mile away. +But it was always the wolf howl that made him sit and listen longest, +his heart beating with a strange impulse which he did not as yet +understand. It was the call of his breed, growing in him slowly but +insistently. + +He was still a wanderer--pupamootao, the Indians call it. It is this +"wander spirit" that inspires for a time nearly every creature of the +wild as soon as it is able to care for itself--nature's scheme, +perhaps, for doing away with too close family relations and possibly +dangerous interbreeding. Baree, like the young wolf seeking new hunting +grounds, or the young fox discovering a new world, had no reason or +method in his wandering. He was simply "traveling"--going on. He wanted +something which he could not find. The wolf call brought it to him. + +The stars and the moon filled Baree with a yearning for this something. +The distant sounds impinged upon him his great aloneness. And instinct +told him that only by questing could he find. It was not so much Kazan +and Gray Wolf that he missed now--not so much motherhood and home as it +was companionship. Now that he had fought the wolfish rage out of him +in his battle with Oohoomisew, the dog part of him had come into its +own again--the lovable half of him, the part that wanted to snuggle up +near something that was alive and friendly, small odds whether it wore +feathers or fur, was clawed or hoofed. + +He was sore from the Willow's bullet, and he was sore from battle, and +toward dawn he lay down under a shelter of some alders at the edge of a +second small lake and rested until midday. Then he began questing in +the reeds and close to the pond lilies for food. He found a dead +jackfish, partly eaten by a mink, and finished it. + +His wound was much less painful this afternoon, and by nightfall he +scarcely noticed it at all. Since his almost tragic end at the hands of +Nepeese, he had been traveling in a general northeasterly direction, +following instinctively the run of the waterways. But his progress had +been slow, and when darkness came again he was not more than eight or +ten miles from the hole into which he had fallen after the Willow had +shot him. + +Baree did not travel far this night. The fact that his wound had come +with dusk, and his fight with Oohoomisew still later, filled him with +caution. Experience had taught him that the dark shadows and the black +pits in the forest were possible ambuscades of danger. He was no longer +afraid, as he had once been, but he had had fighting enough for a time, +and so he accepted circumspection as the better part of valor and held +himself aloof from the perils of darkness. It was a strange instinct +that made him seek his bed on the top of a huge rock up which he had +some difficulty in climbing. Perhaps it was a harkening back to the +days of long ago when Gray Wolf, in her first motherhood, sought refuge +at the summit of the Sun Rock which towered high above the forest world +of which she and Kazan were a part, and where later she was blinded in +her battle with the lynx. + +Baree's rock, instead of rising for a hundred feet or more straight up, +was possibly as high as a man's head. It was in the edge of the creek +bottom, with the spruce forest close at his back. For many hours he did +not sleep, but lay keenly alert, his ears tuned to catch every sound +that came out of the dark world about him. There was more than +curiosity in his alertness tonight. His education had broadened +immensely in one way: he had learned that he was a very small part of +all this wonderful earth that lay under the stars and the moon, and he +was keenly alive with the desire to become better acquainted with it +without any more fighting or hurt. Tonight he knew what it meant when +he saw now and then gray shadows float silently out of the forest into +the moonlight--the owls, monsters of the breed with which he had +fought. He heard the crackling of hoofed feet and the smashing of heavy +bodies in the underbrush. He heard again the mooing of the moose. +Voices came to him that he had not heard before--the sharp yap-yap-yap +of a fox, the unearthly, laughing cry of a great Northern loon on a +lake half a mile away, the scream of a lynx that came floating through +miles of forest, the low, soft croaks of the nighthawks between himself +and the stars. He heard strange whisperings in the +treetops--whisperings of the wind. And once, in the heart of a dead +stillness, a buck whistled shrilly close behind his rock--and at the +wolf scent in the air shot away in a terror-stricken gray streak. + +All these sounds held their new meaning for Baree. Swiftly he was +coming into his knowledge of the wilderness. His eyes gleamed; his +blood thrilled. Often for many minutes at a time he scarcely moved. But +of all the sounds that came to him, the wolf cry thrilled him most. +Again and again he listened to it. At times it was far away, so far +that it was like a whisper, dying away almost before it reached him. +Then again it would come to him full-throated, hot with the breath of +the chase, calling him to the red thrill of the hunt, to the wild orgy +of torn flesh and running blood--calling, calling, calling. That was +it, calling him to his own kin, to the bone of his bone and the flesh +of his flesh--to the wild, fierce hunting packs of his mother's tribe! +It was Gray Wolf's voice seeking for him in the night--Gray Wolf's +blood inviting him to the Brotherhood of the Pack. + +Baree trembled as he listened. In his throat he whined softly. He edged +to the sheer face of the rock. He wanted to go; nature was urging him +to go. But the call of the wild was struggling against odds. For in him +was the dog, with its generations of subdued and sleeping +instincts--and all that night the dog in him kept Baree to the top of +his rock. + +Next morning Baree found many crayfish along the creek, and he feasted +on their succulent flesh until he felt that he would never be hungry +again. Nothing had tasted quite so good since he had eaten the +partridge of which he had robbed Sekoosew the ermine. + +In the middle of the afternoon Baree came into a part of the forest +that was very quiet and very peaceful. The creek had deepened. In +places its banks swept out until they formed small ponds. Twice he made +considerable detours to get around these ponds. He traveled very +quietly, listening and watching. Not since the ill-fated day he had +left the old windfall had he felt quite so much at home as now. It +seemed to him that at last he was treading country which he knew, and +where he would find friends. Perhaps this was another miracle mystery +of instinct--of nature. For he was in old Beaver Tooth's domain. It was +here that his father and mother had hunted in the days before he was +born. It was not far from here that Kazan and Beaver Tooth had fought +that mighty duel under water, from which Kazan had escaped with his +life without another breath to lose. + +Baree would never know these things. He would never know that he was +traveling over old trails. But something deep in him gripped him +strangely. He sniffed the air, as if in it he found the scent of +familiar things. It was only a faint breath--an indefinable promise +that brought him to the point of a mysterious anticipation. + +The forest grew deeper. It was wonderful virgin forest. There was no +undergrowth, and traveling under the trees was like being in a vast, +mystery-filled cavern through the roof of which the light of day broke +softly, brightened here and there by golden splashes of the sun. For a +mile Baree made his way quietly through this forest. He saw nothing but +a few winged flirtings of birds; there was almost no sound. Then he +came to a still larger pond. Around this pond there was a thick growth +of alders and willows where the larger trees had thinned out. He saw +the glimmer of afternoon sunlight on the water--and then, all at once, +he heard life. + +There had been few changes in Beaver Tooth's colony since the days of +his feud with Kazan and the otters. Old Beaver Tooth was somewhat +older. He was fatter. He slept a great deal, and perhaps he was less +cautious. He was dozing on the great mud-and-brushwood dam of which he +had been engineer-in-chief, when Baree came out softly on a high bank +thirty or forty feet away. So noiseless had Baree been that none of the +beavers had seen or heard him. He squatted himself flat on his belly, +hidden behind a tuft of grass, and with eager interest watched every +movement. Beaver Tooth was rousing himself. He stood on his short legs +for a moment; then he tilted himself up on his broad, flat tail like a +soldier at attention, and with a sudden whistle dived into the pond +with a great splash. + +In another moment it seemed to Baree that the pond was alive with +beavers. Heads and bodies appeared and disappeared, rushing this way +and that through the water in a manner that amazed and puzzled him. It +was the colony's evening frolic. Tails hit the water like flat boards. +Odd whistlings rose above the splashing--and then as suddenly as it had +begun, the play came to an end. There were probably twenty beavers, not +counting the young, and as if guided by a common signal--something +which Baree had not heard--they became so quiet that hardly a sound +could be heard in the pond. A few of them sank under the water and +disappeared entirely, but most of them Baree could watch as they drew +themselves out on shore. + +The beavers lost no time in getting at their labor, and Baree watched +and listened without so much as rustling a blade of the grass in which +he was concealed. He was trying to understand. He was striving to place +these curious and comfortable-looking creatures in his knowledge of +things. They did not alarm him; he felt no uneasiness at their number +or size. His stillness was not the quiet of discretion, but rather of a +strange and growing desire to get better acquainted with this curious +four-legged brotherhood of the pond. Already they had begun to make the +big forest less lonely for him. And then, close under him--not more +than ten feet from where he lay--he saw something that almost gave +voice to the puppyish longing for companionship that was in him. + +Down there, on a clean strip of the shore that rose out of the soft mud +of the pond, waddled fat little Umisk and three of his playmates. Umisk +was just about Baree's age, perhaps a week or two younger. But he was +fully as heavy, and almost as wide as he was long. Nature can produce +no four-footed creature that is more lovable than a baby beaver, unless +it is a baby bear; and Umisk would have taken first prize at any beaver +baby show in the world. His three companions were a bit smaller. They +came waddling from behind a low willow, making queer little chuckling +noises, their little flat tails dragging like tiny sledges behind them. +They were fat and furry, and mighty friendly looking to Baree, and his +heart beat a sudden swift-pit-a-pat of joy. + +But Baree did not move. He scarcely breathed. And then, suddenly, Umisk +turned on one of his playmates and bowled him over. Instantly the other +two were on Umisk, and the four little beavers rolled over and over, +kicking with their short feet and spatting with their tails, and all +the time emitting soft little squeaking cries. Baree knew that it was +not fight but frolic. He rose up on his feet. He forgot where he +was--forgot everything in the world but those playing, furry balls. For +the moment all the hard training nature had been giving him was lost. +He was no longer a fighter, no longer a hunter, no longer a seeker +after food. He was a puppy, and in him there rose a desire that was +greater than hunger. He wanted to go down there with Umisk and his +little chums and roll and play. He wanted to tell them, if such a thing +were possible, that he had lost his mother and his home, and that he +had been having a mighty hard time of it, and that he would like to +stay with them and their mothers and fathers if they didn't mind. + +In his throat there came the least bit of a whine. It was so low that +Umisk and his playmates did not hear it. They were tremendously busy. + +Softly Baree took his first step toward them, and then another--and at +last he stood on the narrow strip of shore within half a dozen feet of +them. His sharp little ears were pitched forward, and he was wiggling +his tail as fast as he could, and every muscle in his body was +trembling in anticipation. + +It was then that Umisk saw him, and his fat little body became suddenly +as motionless as a stone. + +"Hello!" said Baree, wiggling his whole body and talking as plainly as +a human tongue could talk. "Do you care if I play with you?" + +Umisk made no response. His three playmates now had their eyes on +Baree. They didn't make a move. They looked stunned. Four pairs of +staring, wondering eyes were fixed on the stranger. + +Baree made another effort. He groveled on his forelegs, while his tail +and hind legs continued to wiggle, and with a sniff he grabbed a bit of +stick between his teeth. + +"Come on--let me in," he urged. "I know how to play!" + +He tossed the stick in the air as if to prove what he was saying, and +gave a little yap. + +Umisk and his brothers were like dummies. + +And then, of a sudden, someone saw Baree. It was a big beaver swimming +down the pond with a sapling timber for the new dam that was under way. +Instantly he loosed his hold and faced the shore. And then, like the +report of a rifle, there came the crack of his big flat tail on the +water--the beaver's signal of danger that on a quiet night can be heard +half a mile away. + +"DANGER," it warned. "DANGER--DANGER--DANGER!" + +Scarcely had the signal gone forth when tails were cracking in all +directions--in the pond, in the hidden canals, in the thick willows and +alders. To Umisk and his companions they said: + +"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" + +Baree stood rigid and motionless now. In amazement he watched the four +little beavers plunge into the pond and disappear. He heard the sounds +of other and heavier bodies striking the water. And then there followed +a strange and disquieting silence. Softly Baree whined, and his whine +was almost a sobbing cry. Why had Umisk and his little mates run away +from him? What had he done that they didn't want to make friends with +him? A great loneliness swept over him--a loneliness greater even than +that of his first night away from his mother. The last of the sun faded +out of the sky as he stood there. Darker shadows crept over the pond. +He looked into the forest, where night was gathering--and with another +whining cry he slunk back into it. He had not found friendship. He had +not found comradeship. And his heart was very sad. + + + +CHAPTER 7 + +For two or three days Baree's excursions after food took him farther +and farther away from the pond. But each afternoon he returned to +it--until the third day, when he discovered a new creek, and Wakayoo. +The creek was fully two miles back in the forest. This was a different +sort of stream. It sang merrily over a gravelly bed and between chasm +walls of split rock. It formed deep pools and foaming eddies, and where +Baree first struck it, the air trembled with the distant thunder of a +waterfall. It was much pleasanter than the dark and silent beaver +stream. It seemed possessed of life, and the rush and tumult of it--the +song and thunder of the water--gave to Baree entirely new sensations. +He made his way along it slowly and cautiously, and it was because of +this slowness and caution that he came suddenly and unobserved upon +Wakayoo, the big black bear, hard at work fishing. + +Wakayoo stood knee-deep in a pool that had formed behind a sand bar, +and he was having tremendously good luck. Even as Baree shrank back, +his eyes popping at sight of this monster he had seen but once before, +in the gloom of night, one of Wakayoo's big paws sent a great splash of +water high in the air, and a fish landed on the pebbly shore. A little +while before, the suckers had run up the creek in thousands to spawn, +and the rapid lowering of the water had caught many of them in these +prison pools. Wakayoo's fat, sleek body was evidence of the prosperity +this circumstance had brought him. Although it was a little past the +"prime" season for bearskins, Wakayoo's coat was splendidly thick and +black. + +For a quarter of an hour Baree watched him while he knocked fish out of +the pool. When at last he stopped, there were twenty or thirty fish +among the stones, some of them dead and others still flopping. From +where he lay flattened out between two rocks, Baree could hear the +crunching of flesh and bone as the bear devoured his dinner. It sounded +good, and the fresh smell of fish filled him with a craving that had +never been roused by crayfish or even partridge. + +In spite of his fat and his size, Wakayoo was not a glutton, and after +he had eaten his fourth fish he pawed all the others together in a +pile, partly covered them by raking up sand and stones with his long +claws, and finished his work of caching by breaking down a small balsam +sapling so that the fish were entirely concealed. Then he lumbered +slowly away in the direction of the rumbling waterfall. + +Twenty seconds after the last of Wakayoo had disappeared in a turn of +the creek, Baree was under the broken balsam. He dragged out a fish +that was still alive. He ate the whole of it, and it tasted delicious. + +Baree now found that Wakayoo had solved the food problem for him, and +this day he did not return to the beaver pond, nor the next. The big +bear was incessantly fishing up and down the creek, and day after day +Baree continued his feasts. It was not difficult for him to find +Wakayoo's caches. All he had to do was to follow along the shore of the +stream, sniffing carefully. Some of the caches were getting old, and +their perfume was anything but pleasant to Baree. These he avoided--but +he never missed a meal or two out of a fresh one. + +For a week life continued to be exceedingly pleasant. And then came the +break--the change that was destined to meant for Kazan, his father, +when he killed the man-brute at the edge of the wilderness. + +This change came or the day when, in trotting around a great rock near +the waterfall, Baree found himself face to face with Pierrot the hunter +and Nepeese, the star-eyed girl who had shot him in the edge of the +clearing. + +It was Nepeese whom he saw first. If it had been Pierrot, he would have +turned back quickly. But again the blood of his forebear was rousing +strange tremblings within him. Was it like this that the first woman +had looked to Kazan? + +Baree stood still. Nepeese was not more than twenty feet from him. She +sat on a rock, full in the early morning sun, and was brushing out her +wonderful hair. Her lips parted. Her eyes shone in an instant like +stars. One hand remained poised, weighted with the jet tresses. She +recognized him. She saw the white star on his breast and the white tip +on his ear, and under her breath she whispered "Uchi moosis!"--"The dog +pup!" It was the wild dog she had shot--and thought had died! + +The evening before Pierrot and Nepeese had built a shelter of balsams +behind the big rock, and on a small white plot of sand Pierrot was +kneeling over a fire preparing breakfast while the Willow arranged her +hair. He raised his head to speak to her, and saw Baree. In that +instant the spell was broken. Baree saw the man-beast as he rose to his +feet. Like a shot he was gone. + +Scarcely swifter was he than Nepeese. + +"Depechez vous, mon pere!" she cried. "It is the dog pup! Quick--" + +In the floating cloud of her hair she sped after Baree like the wind. +Pierrot followed, and in going he caught up his rifle. It was difficult +for him to catch up with the Willow. She was like a wild spirit, her +little moccasined feet scarcely touching the sand as she ran up the +long bar. It was wonderful to see the lithe swiftness of her, and that +glorious hair streaming out in the sun. Even now, in this moment's +excitement, it made Pierrot think of McTaggart, the Hudson's Bay +Company's factor over at Lac Bain, and what he had said yesterday. Half +the night Pierrot had lain awake, gritting his teeth at thought of it. +And this morning, before Baree ran upon them, he had looked at Nepeese +more closely than ever before in his life. She was beautiful. She was +lovelier even than Wyola, her princess mother, who was dead. That +hair--which made men stare as if they could not believe! Those +eyes--like pools filled with wonderful starlight! Her slimness, that +was like a flower! And McTaggart had said-- + +Floating back to him there came an excited cry. + +"Hurry, Nootawe! He has turned into the blind canyon. He cannot escape +us now." + +She was panting when he came up to her. The French blood in her glowed +a vivid crimson in her cheeks and lips. Her white teeth gleamed like +pearls. + +"In there!" And she pointed. + +They went in. + +Ahead of them Baree was running for his life. He sensed instinctively +the fact that these wonderful two-legged beings he had looked upon were +all-powerful. And they were after him! He could hear them. Nepeese was +following almost as swiftly as he could run. Suddenly he turned into a +cleft between two great rocks. Twenty feet in, his way was barred, and +he ran back. When he darted out, straight up the canyon, Nepeese was +not a dozen yards behind him, and he saw Pierrot almost at her side. +The Willow gave a cry. + +"Mana--mana--there he is!" + +She caught her breath, and darted into a copse of young balsams where +Baree had disappeared. Like a great entangling web her loose hair +impeded her in the brush, and with an encouraging cry to Pierrot she +stopped to gather it over her shoulder as he ran past her. She lost +only a moment or two, and then once again was after him. Fifty yards +ahead of her Pierrot gave a warning shout. Baree had turned. Almost in +the same breath he was tearing over his back trail, directly toward the +Willow. He did not see her in time to stop or swerve aside, and Nepeese +flung herself down in his path. For an instant or two they were +together. Baree felt the smother of her hair, and the clutch of her +hands. Then he squirmed away and darted again toward the blind end of +the canyon. + +Nepeese sprang to her feet. She was panting--and laughing. Pierrot came +back wildly, and the Willow pointed beyond him. + +"I had him--and he didn't bite!" she said, breathing swiftly. She still +pointed to the end of the canyon, and she said again: "I had him--and +he didn't bite me, Nootawe!" + +That was the wonder of it. She had been reckless--and Baree had not +bitten her! It was then, with her eyes shining at Pierrot, and the +smile fading slowly from her lips, that she spoke softly the word +"Baree," which in her tongue meant "the wild dog"--a little brother of +the wolf. + +"Come," cried Pierrot, "or we will lose him!" + +Pierrot was confident. The canyon had narrowed. Baree could not get +past them unseen. Three minutes later Baree came to the blind end of +the canyon--a wall of rock that rose straight up like the curve of a +dish. Feasting on fish and long hours of sleep had fattened him, and he +was half winded as he sought vainly for an exit. He was at the far end +of the dishlike curve of rock, without a bush or a clump of grass to +hide him, when Pierrot and Nepeese saw him again. Nepeese made straight +toward him. Pierrot, foreseeing what Baree would do, hurried to the +left, at right angles to the end of the canyon. + +In and out among the rocks Baree sought swiftly for a way of escape. In +a moment more he had come to the "box," or cup of the canyon. This was +a break in the wall, fifty or sixty feet wide, which opened into a +natural prison about an acre in extent. It was a beautiful spot. On all +sides but that leading into the coulee it was shut in by walls of rock. +At the far end a waterfall broke down in a series of rippling cascades. +The grass was thick underfoot and strewn with flowers. In this trap +Pierrot had got more than one fine haunch of venison. From it there was +no escape, except in the face of his rifle. He called to Nepeese as he +saw Baree entering it, and together they climbed the slope. + +Baree had almost reached the edge of the little prison meadow when +suddenly he stopped himself so quickly that he fell back on his +haunches and his heart jumped up into his throat. + +Full in his path stood Wakayoo, the huge black bear! + +For perhaps a half-minute Baree hesitated between the two perils. He +heard the voices of Nepeese and Pierrot. He caught the rattle of stones +under their feet. And he was filled with a great dread. Then he looked +at Wakayoo. The big bear had not moved an inch. He, too, was listening. +But to him there was a thing more disturbing than the sounds he heard. +It was the scent which he caught in the air--the man scent. + +Baree, watching him, saw his head swing slowly even as the footsteps of +Nepeese and Pierrot became more and more distinct. It was the first +time Baree had ever stood face to face with the big bear. He had +watched him fish; he had fattened on Wakayoo's prowess; he had held him +in splendid awe. Now there was something about the bear that took away +his fear and gave him in its place a new and thrilling confidence. +Wakayoo, big and powerful as he was, would not run from the two-legged +creatures who pursued him! If Baree could only get past Wakayoo he was +safe! + +Baree darted to one side and ran for the open meadow. Wakayoo did not +stir as Baree sped past him--no more than if he had been a bird or a +rabbit. Then came another breath of air, heavy with the scent of man. +This, at last, put life into him. He turned and began lumbering after +Baree into the meadow trap. Baree, looking back, saw him coming--and +thought it was pursuit. Nepeese and Pierrot came over the slope, and at +the same instant they saw both Wakayoo and Baree. + +Where they entered into the grassy dip under the rock walls, Baree +turned sharply to the right. Here was a great boulder, one end of it +tilted up off the earth. It looked like a splendid hiding place, and +Baree crawled under it. + +But Wakayoo kept straight ahead into the meadow. + +From where he lay Baree could see what happened. Scarcely had he +crawled under the rock when Nepeese and Pierrot appeared through the +break in the dip, and stopped. The fact that they stopped thrilled +Baree. They were afraid of Wakayoo! The big bear was two thirds of the +way across the meadow. The sun fell on him, so that his coat shone like +black satin. Pierrot stared at him for a moment. Pierrot did not kill +for the love of killing. Necessity made him a conservationist. But he +saw that in spite of the lateness of the season, Wakayoo's coat was +splendid--and he raised his rifle. + +Baree saw this action. He saw, a moment later, something spit from the +end of the gun, and then he heard that deafening crash that had come +with his own hurt, when the Willow's bullet had burned through his +flesh. He turned his eyes swiftly to Wakayoo. The big bear had +stumbled; he was on his knees. And then he struggled to his feet and +lumbered on. + +The roar of the rifle came again, and a second time Wakayoo went down. +Pierrot could not miss at that distance. Wakayoo made a splendid mark. +It was slaughter. Yet for Pierrot and Nepeese it was business--the +business of life. + +Baree was shivering. It was more from excitement than fear, for he had +lost his own fear in the tragedy of these moments. A low whine rose in +his throat as he looked at Wakayoo, who had risen again and faced his +enemies--his jaws gaping, his head swinging slowly, his legs weakening +under him as the blood poured through his torn lungs. Baree +whined--because Wakayoo had fished for him, because he had come to look +on him as a friend, and because he knew it was death that Wakayoo was +facing now. There was a third shot--the last. Wakayoo sank down in his +tracks. His big head dropped between his forepaws. A racking cough or +two came to Baree's ears. And then there was silence. It was +slaughter--but business. + +A minute later, standing over Wakayoo, Pierrot said to Nepeese: + +"Mon dieu, but it is a fine skin, Sakahet! It is worth twenty dollars +over at Lac Bain!" + +He drew forth his knife and began whetting it on a stone which he +carried in his pocket. In these minutes Baree might have crawled out +from under his rock and escaped down the canyon; for a space he was +forgotten. Then Nepeese thought of him, and in that same strange, +wondering voice she spoke again the word "Baree." Pierrot, who was +kneeling, looked up at her. + +"Oui, Sakahet. He was born of the wild. And now he is gone--" + +The Willow shook her head. + +"Non, he is not gone," she said, and her dark eyes searched the sunlit +meadow. + + + +CHAPTER 8 + +As Nepeese gazed about the rock-walled end of the canyon, the prison +into which they had driven Wakayoo and Baree, Pierrot looked up again +from his skinning of the big black bear, and he muttered something that +no one but himself could have heard. "Non, it is not possible," he had +said a moment before; but to Nepeese it was possible--the thought that +was in her mind. It was a wonderful thought. It thrilled her to the +depth of her wild, young soul. It sent a glow into her eyes and a +deeper flush of excitement into her cheeks and lips. + +As she searched the ragged edges of the little meadow for signs of the +dog pup, her thoughts flashed back swiftly. Two years ago they had +buried her princess mother under the tall spruce near their cabin. That +day Pierrot's sun had set for all time, and her own life became filled +with a vast loneliness. There had been three at the graveside that +afternoon as the sun went down--Pierrot, herself, and a dog, a great, +powerful husky with a white star on his breast and a white-tipped ear. +He had been her dead mother's pet from puppyhood--her bodyguard, with +her always, even with his head resting on the side of her bed as she +died. And that night, the night of the day they buried her, the dog had +disappeared. He had gone as quietly and as completely as her spirit. No +one ever saw him after that. It was strange, and to Pierrot it was a +miracle. Deep in his heart he was filled with the wonderful conviction +that the dog had gone with his beloved Wyola into heaven. + +But Nepeese had spent three winters at the missioner's school at Nelson +House. She had learned a great deal about white people and the real +God, and she knew that Pierrot's idea was impossible. She believed that +her mother's husky was either dead or had joined the wolves. Probably +he had gone to the wolves. So--was it not possible that this youngster +she and her father had pursued was of the flesh and blood of her +mother's pet? It was more than possible. The white star on his breast, +the white-tipped ear--the fact that he had not bitten her when he might +easily have buried his fangs in the soft flesh of her arms! She was +convinced. While Pierrot skinned the bear, she began hunting for Baree. + +Baree had not moved an inch from under his rock. He lay like a thing +stunned, his eyes fixed steadily on the scene of the tragedy out in the +meadow. He had seen something that he would never forget--even as he +would never quite forget his mother and Kazan and the old windfall. He +had witnessed the death of the creature he had thought all-powerful. +Wakayoo, the big bear, had not even put up a fight. Pierrot and Nepeese +had killed him WITHOUT TOUCHING HIM. Now Pierrot was cutting him with a +knife which shot silvery flashes in the sun; and Wakayoo made no +movement. It made Baree shiver, and he drew himself an inch farther +back under the rock, where he was already wedged as if he had been +shoved there by a strong hand. + +He could see Nepeese. She came straight back to the break through which +his flight had taken him, and stood at last not more than twenty feet +from where he was hidden. Now that she stood where he could not escape, +she began weaving her shining hair into two thick braids. Baree had +taken his eyes from Pierrot, and he watched her curiously. He was not +afraid now. His nerves tingled. In him a strange and growing force was +struggling to solve a great mystery--the reason for his desire to creep +out from under his rock and approach that wonderful creature with the +shining eyes and the beautiful hair. + +Baree wanted to approach. It was like an invisible string tugging at +his very heart. It was Kazan, and not Gray Wolf, calling to him back +through the centuries, a "call" that was as old as the Egyptian +pyramids and perhaps ten thousand years older. But against that desire +Gray Wolf was pulling from out the black ages of the forests. The wolf +held him quiet and motionless. Nepeese was looking about her. She was +smiling. For a moment her face was turned toward him, and he saw the +white shine of her teeth, and her beautiful eyes seemed glowing +straight at him. + +And then, suddenly, she dropped on her knees and peered under the rock. + +Their eyes met. For at least half a minute there was not a sound. +Nepeese did not move, and her breath came so softly that Baree could +not hear it. + +Then she said, almost in a whisper: + +"Baree! Baree! Upi Baree!" + +It was the first time Baree had heard his name, and there was something +so soft and assuring in the sound of it that in spite of himself the +dog in him responded to it in a whimper that just reached the Willow's +ears. Slowly she stretched in an arm. It was bare and round and soft. +He might have darted forward the length of his body and buried his +fangs in it easily. But something held him back. He knew that it was +not an enemy. He knew that the dark eyes shining at him so wonderfully +were not filled with the desire to harm--and the voice that came to him +softly was like a strange and thrilling music. + +"Baree! Baree! Upi Baree!" + +Over and over again the Willow called to him like that, while on her +face she tried to draw herself a few inches farther under the rock. She +could not reach him. There was still a foot between her hand and Baree, +and she could not wedge herself forward an inch more. And then she saw +where on the other side of the rock there was a hollow, shut in by a +stone. If she had removed the stone, and come in that way-- + +She drew herself out and stood once more in the sunshine. Her heart +thrilled. Pierrot was busy over his bear--and she would not call him. +She made an effort to move the stone which closed in the hollow under +the big boulder, but it was wedged in tightly. Then she began digging +with a stick. If Pierrot had been there, his sharp eyes would have +discovered the significance of that stone, which was not larger than a +water pail. Possibly for centuries it had lain there, its support +keeping the huge rock from toppling down, just as an ounce weight may +swing the balance of a wheel that weighs a ton. + +Five minutes--and Nepeese could move the stone. She tugged at it. Inch +by inch she dragged it out until at last it lay at her feet and the +opening was ready for her body. She looked again toward Pierrot. He was +still busy, and she laughed softly as she untied a big red-and-white +Bay handkerchief from about her shoulders. With this she would secure +Baree. She dropped on her hands and knees and then lowered herself flat +on the ground and began crawling into the hollow under the boulder. + +Baree had moved. With the back of his head flattened against the rock, +he had heard something which Nepeese had not heard. He had felt a slow +and growing pressure, and from this pressure he had dragged himself +slowly--and the pressure still followed. The mass of rock was settling! +Nepeese did not see or hear or understand. She was calling to him more +and more pleadingly: + +"Baree--Baree--Baree--" + +Her head and shoulders and both arms were under the rock now. The glow +of her eyes was very close to Baree. He whined. The thrill of a great +and impending danger stirred in his blood. And then-- + +In that moment Nepeese felt the pressure of the rock on her shoulder, +and into the eyes that had been glowing softly at Baree there shot a +sudden wild look of horror. And then there came from her lips a cry +that was not like any other sound Baree had ever heard in the +wilderness--wild, piercing, filled with agonized fear. Pierrot did not +hear that first cry. But he heard the second and the third--and then +scream after scream as the Willow's tender body was slowly crushed +under the settling mass. He ran toward it with the speed of the wind. +The cries were now weaker--dying away. He saw Baree as he came out from +under the rock and ran into the canyon, and in the same instant he saw +a part of the Willow's dress and her moccasined feet. The rest of her +was hidden under the deathtrap. Like a madman Pierrot began digging. + +When a few moments later he drew Nepeese out from under the boulder she +was white and deathly still. Her eyes were closed. His hand could not +feel that she was living, and a great moan of anguish rose out of his +soul. But he knew how to fight for a life. He tore open her dress and +found that she was not crushed as he had feared. Then he ran for water. +When he returned, the Willow's eyes were open and she was gasping for +breath. + +"The blessed saints be praised!" sobbed Pierrot, falling on his knees +at her side. "Nepeese, ma Nepeese!" + +She smiled at him, and Pierrot drew her up to him, forgetting the water +he had run so hard to get. + +Still later, when he got down on his knees and peered under the rock, +his face turned white and he said: + +"Mon Dieu, if it had not been for that little hollow in the earth, +Nepeese--" + +He shuddered, and said no more. But Nepeese, happy in her salvation, +made a movement with her hand and said, smiling at him: + +"I would have been like--THAT." And she held her thumb and forefinger +close together. + +"But where did Baree go, mon pere?" Nepeese cried. + + + +CHAPTER 9 + +Impelled by the wild alarm of the Willow's terrible cries and the sight +of Pierrot dashing madly toward him from the dead body of Wakayoo, +Baree did not stop running until it seemed as though his lungs could +not draw another breath. When he stopped, he was well out of the canyon +and headed for the beaver pond. For almost a week Baree had not been +near the pond. He had not forgotten Beaver Tooth and Umisk and the +other little beavers, but Wakayoo and his daily catch of fresh fish had +been too big a temptation for him. Now Wakayoo was gone. He sensed the +fact that the big black bear would never fish again in the quiet pools +and shimmering eddies, and that where for many days there had been +peace and plenty, there was now great danger. And just as in another +country he would have fled for safety to the old windfall, he now fled +desperately for the beaver pond. + +Exactly wherein lay Baree's fears it would be difficult to say--but +surely it was not because of Nepeese. The Willow had chased him hard. +She had flung herself upon him. He had felt the clutch of her hands and +the smother of her soft hair, and yet of her he was not afraid! If he +stopped now and then in his flight and looked back, it was to see if +Nepeese was following. He would not have run hard from her--alone. Her +eyes and voice and hands had set something stirring in him; he was +filled with a greater yearning and a greater loneliness now. And that +night he dreamed troubled dreams. + +He found himself a bed under a spruce root not far from the beaver +pond, and all through the night his sleep was filled with that restless +dreaming--dreams of his mother, of Kazan, the old windfall, of +Umlsk--and of Nepeese. Once, when he awoke, he thought the spruce root +was Gray Wolf; and when he found that she was not there, Pierrot and +the Willow could have told what his crying meant if they had heard it. +Again and again he had visions of the thrilling happenings of that day. +He saw the flight of Wakayoo over the little meadow--he saw him die +again. He saw the glow of the Willow's eyes close to his own, heard her +voice--so sweet and low that it seemed like strange music to him--and +again he heard her terrible screams. + +Baree was glad when the dawn came. He did not seek for food, but went +down to the pond. There was little hope and anticipation in his manner +now. He remembered that, as plainly as animal ways could talk, Umisk +and his playmates had told him they wanted nothing to do with him. And +yet the fact that they were there took away some of his loneliness. It +was more than loneliness. The wolf in him was submerged. The dog was +master. And in these passing moments, when the blood of the wild was +almost dormant in him, he was depressed by the instinctive and growing +feeling that he was not of that wild, but a fugitive in it, menaced on +all sides by strange dangers. + +Deep in the northern forests the beaver does not work and play in +darkness only, but uses day even more than night, and many of Beaver +Tooth's people were awake when Baree began disconsolately to +investigate the shores of the pond. The little beavers were still with +their mothers in the big houses that looked like great domes of sticks +and mud out in the middle of the lake. There were three of these +houses, one of them at least twenty feet in diameter. Baree had some +difficulty in following his side of the pond. When he got back among +the willows and alders and birch, dozens of little canals crossed and +crisscrossed in his path. Some of these canals were a foot wide, and +others three or four feet, and all were filled with water. No country +in the world ever had a better system of traffic than this domain of +the beavers, down which they brought their working materials and food +into the main reservoir--the pond. + +In one of the larger canals Baree surprised a big beaver towing a +four-foot cutting of birch as thick through as a man's leg--half a +dozen breakfasts and dinners and suppers in that one cargo. The four or +five inner barks of the birch are what might be called the bread and +butter and potatoes of the beaver menu, while the more highly prized +barks of the willow and young alder take the place of meat and pie. +Baree smelled curiously of the birch cutting after the old beaver had +abandoned it in flight, and then went on. He did not try to conceal +himself now, and at least half a dozen beavers had a good look at him +before he came to the point where the pond narrowed down to the width +of the stream, almost half a mile from the dam. Then he wandered back. +All that morning he hovered about the pond, showing himself openly. + +In their big mud-and-stick strongholds the beavers held a council of +war. They were distinctly puzzled. There were four enemies which they +dreaded above all others: the otter, who destroyed their dams in the +wintertime and brought death to them from cold and by lowering the +water so they could not get to their food supplies; the lynx, who +preyed on them all, young and old alike; and the fox and wolf, who +would lie in ambush for hours in order to pounce on the very young, +like Umisk and his playmates. If Baree had been any one of these four, +wily Beaver Tooth and his people would have known what to do. But Baree +was surely not an otter, and if he was a fox or a wolf or a lynx, his +actions were very strange, to say the least. Half a dozen times he had +had the opportunity to pounce on his prey, if he had been seeking prey. +But at no time had he shown the least desire to harm them. + +It may be that the beavers discussed the matter fully among themselves. +It is possible that Umisk and his playmates told their parents of their +adventure, and of how Baree had made no move to harm them when he could +quite easily have caught them. It is also more than likely that the +older beavers who had fled from Baree that morning gave an account of +their adventures, again emphasizing the fact that the stranger, while +frightening them, had shown no disposition to attack them. All this is +quite possible, for if beavers can make a large part of a continent's +history, and can perform engineering feats that nothing less than +dynamite can destroy, it is only reasonable to suppose that they have +some way of making one another understand. + +However this may be, courageous old Beaver Tooth took it upon himself +to end the suspense. + +It was early in the afternoon that for the third or fourth time Baree +walked out on the dam. This dam was fully two hundred feet in length, +but at no point did the water run over it, the overflow finding its way +through narrow sluices. A week or two ago Baree could have crossed to +the opposite side of the pond on this dam, but now--at the far +end--Beaver Tooth and his engineers were adding a new section of dam, +and in order to accomplish their work more easily, they had flooded +fully fifty yards of the low ground on which they were working. + +The main dam held a strange fascination for Baree. It was strong with +the smell of beaver. The top of it was high and dry, and there were +dozens of smoothly worn little hollows in which the beavers had taken +their sun baths. In one of these hollows Baree stretched himself out, +with his eyes on the pond. Not a ripple stirred its velvety smoothness. +Not a sound broke the drowsy stillness of the afternoon. The beavers +might have been dead or asleep, for all the stir they made. And yet +they knew that Baree was on the dam. Where he lay, the sun fell in a +warm flood, and it was so comfortable that after a time he had +difficulty in keeping his eyes open to watch the pond. Then he fell +asleep. + +Just how Beaver Tooth sensed this fact is a mystery. Five minutes later +he came up quietly, without a splash or a sound, within fifty yards of +Baree. For a few moments he scarcely moved in the water. Then he swam +very slowly parallel with the dam across the pond. At the other side he +drew himself ashore, and for another minute sat as motionless as a +stone, with his eyes on that part of the dam where Baree was lying. Not +another beaver was moving, and it was very soon apparent that Beaver +Tooth had but one object in mind--getting a closer observation of +Baree. When he entered the water again, he swam along close to the dam. +Ten feet beyond Baree he began to climb out. He did this with great +slowness and caution. At last he reached the top of the dam. + +A few yards away Baree was almost hidden in his hollow, only the top of +his shiny black body appearing to Beaver Tooth's scrutiny. To get a +better look, the old beaver spread his flat tail out beyond him and +rose to a sitting posture on his hindquarters, his two front paws held +squirrel-like over his breast. In this pose he was fully three feet +tall. He probably weighed forty pounds, and in some ways he resembled +one of those fat, good-natured, silly-looking dogs that go largely to +stomach. But his brain was working with amazing celerity. Suddenly he +gave the hard mud of the dam a single slap with his tail--and Baree sat +up. Instantly he saw Beaver Tooth, and stared. Beaver Tooth stared. For +a full half-minute neither moved the thousandth part of an inch. Then +Baree stood up and wagged his tail. + +That was enough. Dropping to his forefeet. Beaver Tooth waddled +leisurely to the edge of the dam and dived over. He was neither +cautious nor in very great haste now. He made a great commotion in the +water and swam boldly back and forth under Baree. When he had done this +several times, he cut straight up the pond to the largest of the three +houses and disappeared. Five minutes after Beaver Tooth's exploit word +was passing quickly among the colony. The stranger--Baree--was not a +lynx. He was not a fox. He was not a wolf. Moreover, he was very +young--and harmless. Work could be resumed. Play could be resumed. +There was no danger. Such was Beaver Tooth's verdict. + +If someone had shouted these facts in beaver language through a +megaphone, the response could not have been quicker. All at once it +seemed to Baree, who was still standing on the edge of the dam, that +the pond was alive with beavers. He had never seen so many at one time +before. They were popping up everywhere, and some of them swam up +within a dozen feet of him and looked him over in a leisurely and +curious way. For perhaps five minutes the beavers seemed to have no +particular object in view. Then Beaver Tooth himself struck straight +for the shore and climbed out. Others followed him. Half a dozen +workers disappeared in the canals. As many more waddled out among the +alders and willows. Eagerly Baree watched for Umisk and his chums. At +last he saw them, swimming forth from one of the smaller houses. They +climbed out on their playground--the smooth bar above the shore of mud. +Baree wagged his tail so hard that his whole body shook, and hurried +along the dam. + +When he came out on the level strip of shore, Umisk was there alone, +nibbling his supper from a long, freshly cut willow. The other little +beavers had gone into a thick clump of young alders. + +This time Umisk did not run. He looked up from his stick. Baree +squatted himself, wiggling in a most friendly and ingratiating manner. +For a few seconds Umisk regarded him. + +Then, very coolly, he resumed his supper. + + + +CHAPTER 10 + +Just as in the life of every man there is one big, controlling +influence, either for good or bad, so in the life of Baree the beaver +pond was largely an arbiter of destiny. Where he might have gone if he +had not discovered it, and what might have happened to him, are matters +of conjecture. But it held him. It began to take the place of the old +windfall, and in the beavers themselves he found a companionship which +made up, in a way, for his loss of the protection and friendship of +Kazan and Gray Wolf. + +This companionship, if it could be called that, went just so far and no +farther. With each day that passed the older beavers became more +accustomed to seeing Baree. At the end of two weeks, if Baree had gone +away, they would have missed him--but not in the same way that Baree +would have missed the beavers. It was a matter of good-natured +toleration on their part. With Baree it was different. He was still +uskahis, as Nepeese would have said. He still wanted mothering; he was +still moved by the puppyish yearnings which he had not yet had the time +to outgrow; and when night came--to speak that yearning quite +plainly--he had the desire to go into the big beaver house with Umisk +and his chums and sleep. + +During this fortnight that followed Beaver Tooth's exploit on the dam +Baree ate his meals a mile up the creek, where there were plenty of +crayfish. But the pond was home. Night always found him there, and a +large part of his day. He slept at the end of the dam, or on top of it +on particularly clear nights, and the beavers accepted him as a +permanent guest. They worked in his presence as if he did not exist. + +Baree was fascinated by this work, and he never grew tired of watching +it. It puzzled and bewildered him. Day after day he saw them float +timber and brush through the water for the new dam. He saw this dam +growing steadily under their efforts. One day he lay within a dozen +feet of an old beaver who was cutting down a tree six inches through. +When the tree fell, and the old beaver scurried away, Baree scurried, +too. Then he came back and smelled of the cutting, wondering what it +was all about, and why Umisk's uncle or grandfather or aunt had gone to +all that trouble. + +He still could not induce Umisk and the other young beavers to join him +in play, and after the first week or so he gave up his efforts. In +fact, their play puzzled him almost as much as the dam-building +operations of the older beavers. Umisk, for instance, was fond of +playing in the mud at the edge of the pond. He was like a very small +boy. Where his elders floated timbers from three inches to a foot in +diameter to the big dam, Umisk brought small sticks and twigs no larger +around than a lead pencil to his playground, and built a make-believe +dam of his own. + +Umisk would work an hour at a time on this play dam as industriously as +his father and mother were working on the big dam, and Baree would lie +flat on his belly a few feet away, watching him and wondering mightily. +And through this half-dry mud Umisk would also dig his miniature +canals, just as a small boy might have dug his Mississippi River and +pirate-infested oceans in the outflow of some back-lot spring. With his +sharp little teeth he cut down his big timber--willow sprouts never +more than an inch in diameter; and when one of these four or five-foot +sprouts toppled down, he undoubtedly felt as great a satisfaction as +Beaver Tooth felt when he sent a seventy-foot birch crashing into the +edge of the pond. Baree could not understand the fun of all this. He +could see some reason for nibbling at sticks--he liked to sharpen his +teeth on sticks himself; but it puzzled him to explain why Umisk so +painstakingly stripped the bark from the sticks and swallowed it. + +Another method of play still further discouraged Baree's advances. A +short distance from the spot where he had first seen Umisk there was a +shelving bank that rose ten or twelve feet from the water, and this +bank was used by the young beavers as a slide. It was worn smooth and +hard. Umisk would climb up the bank at a point where it was not so +steep. At the top of the slide he would put his tail out flat behind +him and give himself a shove, shooting down the toboggan and landing in +the water with a big splash. At times there were from six to ten young +beavers engaged in this sport, and now and then one of the older +beavers would waddle to the top of the slide and take a turn with the +youngsters. + +One afternoon, when the toboggan was particularly wet and slippery from +recent use, Baree went up the beaver path to the top of the bank, and +began investigating. Nowhere had he found the beaver smell so strong as +on the slide. He began sniffing and incautiously went too far. In an +instant his feet shot out from under him, and with a single wild yelp +he went shooting down the toboggan. For the second time in his life he +found himself struggling under water, and when a minute or two later he +dragged himself up through the soft mud to the firmer footing of the +shore, he had at last a very well-defined opinion of beaver play. + +It may be that Umisk saw him. It may be that very soon the story of his +adventure was known by all the inhabitants of Beaver Town. For when +Baree came upon Umisk eating his supper of alder bark that evening, +Umisk stood his ground to the last inch, and for the first time they +smelled noses. At least Baree sniffed audibly, and plucky little Umisk +sat like a rolled-up sphinx. That was the final cementing of their +friendship--on Baree's part. He capered about extravagantly for a few +moments, telling Umisk how much he liked him, and that they'd be great +chums. Umisk didn't talk. He didn't make a move until he resumed his +supper. But he was a companionable-looking little fellow, for all that, +and Baree was happier than he had been since the day he left the old +windfall. + +This friendship, even though it outwardly appeared to be quite +one-sided, was decidedly fortunate for Umisk. When Baree was at the +pond, he always kept as near to Umisk as possible, when he could find +him. One day he was lying in a patch of grass, half asleep, while Umisk +busied himself in a clump of alder shoots a few yards away. It was the +warning crack of a beaver tail that fully roused Baree; and then +another and another, like pistol shots. He jumped up. Everywhere +beavers were scurrying for the pond. + +Just then Umisk came out of the alders and hurried as fast as his +short, fat legs would carry him toward the water. He had almost reached +the mud when a lightning flash of red passed before Baree's eyes in the +afternoon sun, and in another instant Napakasew--the he-fox--had +fastened his sharp fangs in Umisk's throat. Baree heard his little +friend's agonized cry; he heard the frenzied flap-flap-flap of many +tails--and his blood pounded suddenly with the thrill of excitement and +rage. + +As swiftly as the red fox himself, Baree darted to the rescue. He was +as big and as heavy as the fox, and when he struck Napakasew, it was +with a ferocious snarl that Pierrot might have heard on the farther +side of the pond, and his teeth sank like knives into the shoulder of +Umisk's assailant. The fox was of a breed of forest highwaymen which +kills from behind. He was not a fighter when it came fang-to-fang, +unless cornered--and so fierce and sudden was Baree's assault that +Napakasew took to flight almost as quickly as he had begun his attack +on Umisk. + +Baree did not follow him, but went to Umisk, who lay half in the mud, +whimpering and snuffling in a curious sort of way. Gently Baree nosed +him, and after a moment or two Umisk got up on his webbed feet, while +fully twenty or thirty beavers were making a tremendous fuss in the +water near the shore. + +After this the beaver pond seemed more than ever like home to Baree. + + + +CHAPTER 11 + +While lovely Nepeese was still shuddering over her thrilling experience +under the rock--while Pierrot still offered grateful thanks in his +prayers for her deliverance and Baree was becoming more and more a +fixture at the beaver pond--Bush McTaggart was perfecting a little +scheme of his own up at Post Lac Bain, about forty miles north and +west. McTaggart had been factor at Lac Bain for seven years. In the +company's books down in Winnipeg he was counted a remarkably successful +man. The expense of his post was below the average, and his semiannual +report of furs always ranked among the first. After his name, kept on +file in the main office, was one notation which said: "Gets more out of +a dollar than any other man north of God's Lake." + +The Indians knew why this was so. They called him Napao Wetikoo--the +man-devil. This was under their breath--a name whispered sinisterly in +the glow of tepee fires, or spoken softly where not even the winds +might carry it to the ears of Bush McTaggart. They feared him; they +hated him. They died of starvation and sickness, and the tighter Bush +McTaggart clenched the fingers of his iron rule, the more meekly, it +seemed to him, did they respond to his mastery. His was a small soul, +hidden in the hulk of a brute, which rejoiced in power. And here--with +the raw wilderness on four sides of him--his power knew no end. The big +company was behind him. It had made him king of a domain in which there +was little law except his own. And in return he gave back to the +company bales and bundles of furs beyond their expectation. It was not +for them to have suspicions. They were a thousand or more miles +away--and dollars were what counted. + +Gregson might have told. Gregson was the investigating agent of that +district, who visited McTaggart once each year. He might have reported +that the Indians called McTaggart Napao Wetikoo because he gave them +only half price for their furs. He might have told the company quite +plainly that he kept the people of the trap lines at the edge of +starvation through every month of the winter, that he had them on their +knees with his hands at their throats--putting the truth in a mild and +pretty way--and that he always had a woman or a girl, Indian or +half-breed, living with him at the Post. But Gregson enjoyed his visits +too much at Lac Bain. Always he could count on two weeks of coarse +pleasures. And in addition to that, his own womenfolk at home wore a +rich treasure of fur that came to them from McTaggart. + +One evening, a week after the adventure of Nepeese and Baree under the +rock, McTaggart sat under the glow of an oil lamp in his "store." He +had sent his little pippin-faced English clerk to bed, and he was +alone. For six weeks there had been in him a great unrest. It was just +six weeks ago that Pierrot had brought Nepeese on her first visit to +Lac Bain since McTaggart had been factor there. She had taken his +breath away. Since then he had been able to think of nothing but her. +Twice in that six weeks he had gone down to Pierrot's cabin. Tomorrow +he was going again. Marie, the slim Cree girl over in his cabin, he had +forgotten--just as a dozen others before Marie had slipped out of his +memory. It was Nepeese now. He had never seen anything quite so +beautiful as Pierrot's girl. + +Audibly he cursed Pierrot as he looked at a sheet of paper under his +hand, on which for an hour or more he had been making notes out of worn +and dusty company ledgers. It was Pierrot who stood in his way. +Pierrot's father, according to those notes, had been a full-blooded +Frenchman. Therefore Pierrot was half French, and Nepeese was quarter +French--though she was so beautiful he could have sworn there was not +more than a drop or two of Indian blood in her veins. If they had been +all Indian--Chipewyan, Cree, Ojibway, Dog Rib--anything--there would +have been no trouble at all in the matter. He would have bent them to +his power, and Nepeese would have come to his cabin, as Marie had come +six months ago. But there was the accursed French of it! Pierrot and +Nepeese were different. And yet-- + +He smiled grimly, and his hands clenched tighter. After all, was not +his power sufficient? Would even Pierrot dare stand up against that? If +Pierrot objected, he would drive him from the country--from the +trapping regions that had come down to him as heritage from father and +grandfather, and even before their day. He would make of Pierrot a +wanderer and an outcast, as he had made wanderers and outcasts of a +score of others who had lost his favor. No other Post would sell to or +buy from Pierrot if Le Bete--the black cross--was put after his name. +That was his power--a law of the factors that had come down through the +centuries. It was a tremendous power for evil. It had brought him +Marie, the slim, dark-eyed Cree girl, who hated him--and who in spite +of her hatred "kept house for him." + +That was the polite way of explaining her presence if explanations were +ever necessary. McTaggart looked again at the notes he had made on the +sheet of paper. Pierrot's trapping country, his own property according +to the common law of the wilderness, was very valuable. During the last +seven years he had received an average of a thousand dollars a year for +his furs, for McTaggart had been unable to cheat Pierrot quite as +completely as he had cheated the Indians. A thousand dollars a year! +Pierrot would think twice before he gave that up. McTaggart chuckled as +he crumpled the paper in his hand and prepared to put out the light. +Under his close-cropped beard his reddish face blazed with the fire +that was in his blood. It was an unpleasant face--like iron, merciless, +filled with the look that gave him his name of Napao Wetikoo. His eyes +gleamed, and he drew a quick breath as he put out the light. + +He chuckled again as he made his way through the darkness to the door. +Nepeese as good as belonged to him. He, would have her if it +cost--PIERROT'S LIFE. And--WHY NOT? It was all so easy. A shot on a +lonely trap line, a single knife thrust--and who would know? Who would +guess where Pierrot had gone? And it would all be Pierrot's fault. For +the last time he had seen Pierrot, he had made an honest proposition: +he would marry Nepeese. Yes, even that. He had told Pierrot so. He had +told Pierrot that when the latter was his father-in-law, he would pay +him double price for furs. + +And Pierrot had stared--had stared with that strange, stunned look in +his face, like a man dazed by a blow from a club. And so if he did not +get Nepeese without trouble it would all be Pierrot's fault. Tomorrow +McTaggart would start again for the half-breed's country. And the next +day Pierrot would have an answer for him. Bush McTaggart chuckled again +as he went to bed. + +Until the next to the last day Pierrot said nothing to Nepeese about +what had passed between him and the factor at Lac Bain. Then he told +her. + +"He is a beast--a man-devil," he said, when he had finished. "I would +rather see you out there--with her--dead." And he pointed to the tall +spruce under which the princess mother lay. + +Nepeese had not uttered a sound. But her eyes had grown bigger and +darker, and there was a flush in her cheeks which Pierrot had never +seen there before. She stood up when he had finished, and she seemed +taller to him. Never had she looked quite so much like a woman, and +Pierrot's eyes were deep-shadowed with fear and uneasiness as he +watched her while she gazed off into the northwest--toward Lac Bain. + +She was wonderful, this slip of a girl-woman. Her beauty troubled him. +He had seen the look in Bush McTaggart's eyes. He had heard the thrill +in McTaggart's voice. He had caught the desire of a beast in +McTaggart's face. It had frightened him at first. But now--he was not +frightened. He was uneasy, but his hands were clenched. In his heart +there was a smoldering fire. At last Nepeese turned and came and sat +down beside him again, at his feet. + +"He is coming tomorrow, ma cherie," he said. "What shall I tell him?" + +The Willow's lips were red. Her eyes shone. But she did not look up at +her father. + +"Nothing, Nootawe--except that you are to say to him that I am the one +to whom he must come--for what he seeks." + +Pierrot bent over and caught her smiling. The sun went down. His heart +sank with it, like cold lead. + + +From Lac Bain to Pierrot's cabin the trail cut within half a mile of +the beaver pond, a dozen miles from where Pierrot lived. And it was +here, on a twist of the creek in which Wakayoo had caught fish for +Baree, that Bush McTaggart made his camp for the night. Only twenty +miles of the journey could be made by canoe, and as McTaggart was +traveling the last stretch afoot, his camp was a simple affair--a few +cut balsams, a light blanket, a small fire. Before he prepared his +supper, the factor drew a number of copper wire snares from his small +pack and spent half an hour in setting them in rabbit runways. This +method of securing meat was far less arduous than carrying a gun in hot +weather, and it was certain. Half a dozen snares were good for at least +three rabbits, and one of these three was sure to be young and tender +enough for the frying pan. After he had placed his snares McTaggart set +a skillet of bacon over the coals and boiled his coffee. + +Of all the odors of a camp, the smell of bacon reaches farthest in the +forest. It needs no wind. It drifts on its own wings. On a still night +a fox will sniff it a mile away--twice that far if the air is moving in +the right direction. It was this smell of bacon that came to Baree +where he lay in his hollow on top of the beaver dam. + +Since his experience in the canyon and the death of Wakayoo, he had not +fared particularly well. Caution had kept him near the pond, and he had +lived almost entirely on crayfish. This new aroma that came with the +night wind roused his hunger. But it was elusive: now he could smell +it--the next instant it was gone. He left the dam and began questing +for the source of it in the forest, until after a time he lost it +altogether. McTaggart had finished frying his bacon and was eating it. + +It was a splendid night that followed. Perhaps Baree would have slept +through it in his nest on the top of the dam if the bacon smell had not +stirred the new hunger in him. Since his adventure in the canyon, the +deeper forest had held a dread for him, especially at night. But this +night was like a pale, golden day. It was moonless; but the stars shone +like a billion distant lamps, flooding the world in a soft and billowy +sea of light. A gentle whisper of wind made pleasant sounds in the +treetops. Beyond that it was very quiet, for it was Puskowepesim--the +Molting Moon--and the wolves were not hunting, the owls had lost their +voice, the foxes slunk with the silence of shadows, and even the +beavers had begun to cease their labors. The horns of the moose, the +deer, and the caribou were in tender velvet, and they moved but little +and fought not at all. It was late July, Molting Moon of the Cree, Moon +of Silence for the Chipewyan. + +In this silence Baree began to hunt. He stirred up a family of +half-grown partridges, but they escaped him. He pursued a rabbit that +was swifter than he. For an hour he had no luck. Then he heard a sound +that made every drop of blood in him thrill. He was close to +McTaggart's camp, and what he had heard was a rabbit in one of +McTaggart's snares. He came out into a little starlit open and there he +saw the rabbit going through a most marvelous pantomime. It amazed him +for a moment, and he stopped in his tracks. + +Wapoos, the rabbit, had run his furry head into the snare, and his +first frightened jump had "shot" the sapling to which the copper wire +was attached so that he was now hung half in mid-air, with only his +hind feet touching the ground. And there he was dancing madly while the +noose about his neck slowly choked him to death. + +Baree gave a sort of gasp. He could understand nothing of the part that +the wire and the sapling were playing in this curious game. All he +could see was that Wapoos was hopping and dancing about on his hind +legs in a most puzzling and unrabbitlike fashion. It may be that he +thought it some sort of play. In this instance, however, he did not +regard Wapoos as he had looked on Umisk the beaver. He knew that Wapoos +made mighty fine eating, and after another moment or two of hesitation +he darted upon his prey. + +Wapoos, half gone already, made almost no struggle, and in the glow of +the stars Baree finished him, and for half an hour afterward he feasted. + +McTaggart had heard no sound, for the snare into which Wapoos had run +his head was the one set farthest from his camp. Beside the smoldering +coals of his fire he sat with his back to a tree, smoking his black +pipe and dreaming covetously of Nepeese, while Baree continued his +night wandering. Baree no longer had the desire to hunt. He was too +full. But he nosed in and out of the starlit spaces, enjoying immensely +the stillness and the golden glow of the night. He was following a +rabbit-run when he came to a place where two fallen logs left a trail +no wider than his body. He squeezed through; something tightened about +his neck. There was a sudden snap--a swish as the sapling was released +from its "trigger"--and Baree was jerked off his feet so suddenly that +he had no time to conjecture as to what was happening. + +The yelp in his throat died in a gurgle, and the next moment he was +going through the pantomimic actions of Wapoos, who was having his +vengeance inside him. For the life of him Baree could not keep from +dancing about, while the wire grew tighter and tighter about his neck. +When he snapped at the wire and flung the weight of his body to the +ground, the sapling would bend obligingly, and then--in its +rebound--would yank him for an instant completely off the earth. +Furiously he struggled. It was a miracle that the fine wire held him. +In a few moments more it must have broken--but McTaggart had heard him! +The factor caught up his blanket and a heavy stick as he hurried toward +the snare. It was not a rabbit making those sounds--he knew that. +Perhaps a fishercat--a lynx, a fox, a young wolf-- + +It was the wolf he thought of first when he saw Baree at the end of the +wire. He dropped the blanket and raised the club. If there had been +clouds overhead, or the stars had been less brilliant, Baree would have +died as surely as Wapoos had died. With the club raised over his head +McTaggart saw in time the white star, the white-tipped ear, and the jet +black of Baree's coat. + +With a swift movement he exchanged the club for the blanket. + +In that hour, could McTaggart have looked ahead to the days that were +to come, he would have used the club. Could he have foreseen the great +tragedy in which Baree was to play a vital part, wrecking his hopes and +destroying his world, he would have beaten him to a pulp there under +the light of the stars. And Baree, could he have foreseen what was to +happen between this brute with a white skin and the most beautiful +thing in the forests, would have fought even more bitterly before he +surrendered himself to the smothering embrace of the factor's blanket. +On this night Fate had played a strange hand for them both, and only +that Fate, and perhaps the stars above, held a knowledge of what its +outcome was to be. + + + +CHAPTER 12 + +Half an hour later Bush McTaggart's fire was burning brightly again. In +the glow of it Baree lay trussed up like an Indian papoose, tied into a +balloon-shaped ball with babiche thong, his head alone showing where +his captor had cut a hole for it in the blanket. He was hopelessly +caught--so closely imprisoned in the blanket that he could scarcely +move a muscle of his body. A few feet away from him McTaggart was +bathing a bleeding hand in a basin of water. There was also a red +streak down the side of McTaggart's bullish neck. + +"You little devil!" he snarled at Baree. "You little devil!" + +He reached over suddenly and gave Baree's head a vicious blow with his +heavy hand. + +"I ought to beat your brains out, and--I believe I will!" + +Baree watched him as he picked up a stick close at his side--a bit of +firewood. Pierrot had chased him, but this was the first time he had +been near enough to the man-monster to see the red glow in his eyes. +They were not like the eyes of the wonderful creature who had almost +caught him in the web of her hair, and who had crawled after him under +the rock. They were the eyes of a beast. They made him shrink and try +to draw his head back into the blanket as the stick was raised. At the +same time he snarled. His white fangs gleamed in the firelight. His +ears were flat. He wanted to sink his teeth in the red throat where he +had already drawn blood. + +The stick fell. It fell again and again, and when McTaggart was done, +Baree lay half stunned, his eyes partly closed by the blows, and his +mouth bleeding. + +"That's the way we take the devil out of a wild dog," snarled +McTaggart. "I guess you won't try the biting game again, eh, youngster? +A thousand devils--but you went almost to the bone of this hand!" + +He began washing the wound again. Baree's teeth had sunk deep, and +there was a troubled look in the factor's face. It was July--a bad +month for bites. From his kit he got a small flask of whisky and turned +a bit of the raw liquor on the wound, cursing Baree as it burned into +his flesh. + +Baree's half-shut eyes were fixed on him steadily. He knew that at last +he had met the deadliest of all his enemies. And yet he was not afraid. +The club in Bush McTaggart's hand had not killed his spirit. It had +killed his fear. It had roused in him a hatred such as he had never +known--not even when he was fighting Oohoomisew, the outlaw owl. The +vengeful animosity of the wolf was burning in him now, along with the +savage courage of the dog. He did not flinch when McTaggart approached +him again. He made an effort to raise himself, that he might spring at +this man-monster. In the effort, swaddled as he was in the blanket, he +rolled over in a helpless and ludicrous heap. + +The sight of it touched McTaggart's risibilities, and he laughed. He +sat down with his back to the tree again and filled his pipe. + +Baree did not take his eyes from McTaggart as he smoked. He watched the +man when the latter stretched himself out on the bare ground and went +to sleep. He listened, still later, to the man-monster's heinous +snoring. Again and again during the long night he struggled to free +himself. He would never forget that night. It was terrible. In the +thick, hot folds of the blanket his limbs and body were suffocated +until the blood almost stood still in his veins. Yet he did not whine. + +They began to journey before the sun was up, for if Baree's blood was +almost dead within him, Bush McTaggart's was scorching his body. He +made his last plans as he walked swiftly through the forest with Baree +under his arm. He would send Pierrot at once for Father Grotin at his +mission seventy miles to the west. He would marry Nepeese--yes, marry +her! That would tickle Pierrot. And he would be alone with Nepeese +while Pierrot was gone for the missioner. + +This thought flamed McTaggart's blood like strong whisky. There was no +thought in his hot and unreasoning brain of what Nepeese might say--of +what she might think. His hand clenched, and he laughed harshly as +there flashed on him for an instant the thought that perhaps Pierrot +would not want to give her up. Pierrot! Bah! It would not be the first +time he had killed a man--or the second. + +McTaggart laughed again, and he walked still faster. There was no +chance of his losing--no chance for Nepeese to get away from him. +He--Bush McTaggart--was lord of this wilderness, master of its people, +arbiter of their destinies. He was power--and the law. + +The sun was well up when Pierrot, standing in front of his cabin with +Nepeese, pointed to a rise in the trail three or four hundred yards +away, over which McTaggart had just appeared. + +"He is coming." + +With a face which had aged since last night he looked at Nepeese. Again +he saw the dark glow in her eyes and the deepening red of her parted +lips, and his heart was sick again with dread. Was it possible-- + +She turned on him, her eyes shining, her voice trembling. + +"Remember, Nootawe--you must send him to me for his answer," she cried +quickly, and she darted into the cabin. With a cold, gray face Pierrot +faced Bush McTaggart. + + + +CHAPTER 13 + +From the window, her face screened by the folds of the curtain which +she had made for it, the Willow could see what happened outside. She +was not smiling now. She was breathing quickly, and her body was tense. +Bush McTaggart paused not a dozen feet from the window and shook hands +with Pierrot, her father. She heard McTaggart's coarse voice, his +boisterous greeting, and then she saw him showing Pierrot what he +carried under his arm. There came to her distinctly his explanation of +how he had caught his captive in a rabbit snare. He unwrapped the +blanket. Nepeese gave a cry of amazement. In an instant she was out +beside them. She did not look at McTaggart's red face, blazing in its +joy and exultation. + +"It is Baree!" she cried. + +She took the bundle from McTaggart and turned to Pierrot. + +"Tell him that Baree belongs to me," she said. + +She hurried into the cabin. McTaggart looked after her, stunned and +amazed. Then he looked at Pierrot. A man half blind could have seen +that Pierrot was as amazed as he. + +Nepeese had not spoken to him--the factor of Lac Bain! She had not +LOOKED at him! And she had taken the dog from him with as little +concern as though he had been a wooden man. The red in his face +deepened as he stared from Pierrot to the door through which she had +gone, and which she had closed behind her. + +On the floor of the cabin Nepeese dropped on her knees and finished +unwrapping the blanket. She was not afraid of Baree. She had forgotten +McTaggart. And then, as Baree rolled in a limp heap on the floor, she +saw his half-closed eyes and the dry blood on his jaws, and the light +left her face as swiftly as the sun is shadowed by a cloud. "Baree," +she cried softly. "Baree--Baree!" + +She partly lifted him in her two hands. Baree's head sagged. His body +was numbed until he was powerless to move. His legs were without +feeling. He could scarcely see. But he heard her voice! It was the same +voice that had come to him that day he had felt the sting of the +bullet, the voice that had pleaded with him under the rock! + +The voice of the Willow thrilled Baree. It seemed to stir the sluggish +blood in his veins, and he opened his eyes wider and saw again the +wonderful stars that had glowed at him so softly the day of Wakayoo's +death. One of the Willow's long braids fell over her shoulder, and he +smelled again the sweet scent of her hair as her hand caressed him and +her voice talked to him. Then she got up suddenly and left him, and he +did not move while he waited for her. In a moment she was back with a +basin of water and a cloth. Gently she washed the blood from his eyes +and mouth. And still Baree made no move. He scarcely breathed. But +Nepeese saw the little quivers that shot through his body when her hand +touched him, like electric shocks. + +"He beat you with a club," she was saying, her dark eyes within a foot +of Baree's. "He beat you! That man-beast!" + +There came an interruption. The door opened, and the man-beast stood +looking down on them, a grin on his red face. Instantly Baree showed +that he was alive. He sprang back from under the Willow's hand with a +sudden snarl and faced McTaggart. The hair of his spine stood up like a +brush; his fangs gleamed menacingly, and his eyes burned like living +coals. + +"There is a devil in him," said McTaggart. "He is wild--born of the +wolf. You must be careful or he will take off a hand, kit sakahet." It +was the first time he had called her that lover's name in +Cree--SWEETHEART! Her heart pounded. She bent her head for a moment +over her clenched hands, and McTaggart--looking down on what he thought +was her confusion--laid his hand caressingly on her hair. From the door +Pierrot had heard the word, and now he saw the caress, and he raised a +hand as if to shut out the sight of a sacrilege. + +"Mon Dieu!" he breathed. + +In the next instant he had given a sharp cry of wonder that mingled +with a sudden yell of pain from McTaggart. Like a flash Baree had +darted across the floor and fastened his teeth in the factor's leg. +They had bitten deep before McTaggart freed himself with a powerful +kick. With an oath he snatched his revolver from its holster. The +Willow was ahead of him. With a little cry she darted to Baree and +caught him in her arms. As she looked up at McTaggart, her soft, bare +throat was within a few inches of Baree's naked fangs. Her eyes blazed. + +"You beat him!" she cried. "He hates you--hates you--" + +"Let him go!" called Pierrot in an agony of fear. + +"Mon Dieu! I say let him go, or he will tear the life from you!" + +"He hates you--hates you--hates you--" the Willow was repeating over +and over again into McTaggart's startled face. Then suddenly she turned +to her father. "No, he will not tear the life from me," she cried. +"See! It is Baree. Did I not tell you that? It is Baree! Is it not +proof that he defended me--" + +"From me!" gasped McTaggart, his face darkening. + +Pierrot advanced and laid a hand on McTaggart's arm. He was smiling. + +"Let us leave them to fight it out between themselves, m'sieu," he +said. "They are two little firebrands, and we are not safe. If she is +bitten--" + +He shrugged his shoulders. A great load had been lifted from them +suddenly. His voice was soft and persuasive. And now the anger had gone +out of the Willow's face. A coquettish uplift of her eyes caught +McTaggart, and she looked straight at him half smiling, as she spoke to +her father: + +"I will join you soon, mon pere--you and M'sieu the Factor from Lac +Bain!" + +There were undeniable little devils in her eyes, McTaggart +thought--little devils laughing full at him as she spoke, setting his +brain afire and his blood to throbbing wildly. Those eyes--full of +dancing witches! How he would take pleasure in taming them--very soon +now! He followed Pierrot outside. In his exultation he no longer felt +the smart of Baree's teeth. + +"I will show you my new cariole that I have made for winter, m'sieu," +said Pierrot as the door closed behind them. + + +Half an hour later Nepeese came out of the cabin. She could see that +Pierrot and the factor had been talking about something that had not +been pleasant to her father. His face was strained. She caught in his +eyes the smolder of fire which he was trying to smother, as one might +smother flames under a blanket. McTaggart's jaws were set, but his eyes +lighted up with pleasure when he saw her. She knew what it was about. +The factor from Lac Bain had been demanding his answer of Pierrot, and +Pierrot had been telling him what she had insisted upon--that he must +come to her. And he was coming! She turned with a quick beating of the +heart and hurried down a little path. She heard McTaggart's footsteps +behind her, and threw the flash of a smile over her shoulder. But her +teeth were set tight. The nails of her fingers were cutting into the +palms of her hands. + +Pierrot stood without moving. He watched them as they disappeared into +the edge of the forest, Nepeese still a few steps ahead of McTaggart. +Out of his breast rose a sharp breath. + +"Par les milles cornes du diable!" he swore softly. "Is it +possible--that she smiles from her heart at that beast? Non! It is +impossible. And yet--if it is so--" + +One of his brown hands tightened convulsively about the handle of the +knife in his belt, and slowly he began to follow them. + +McTaggart did not hurry to overtake Nepeese. She was following the +narrow path deeper into the forest, and he was glad of that. They would +be alone--away from Pierrot. He was ten steps behind her, and again the +Willow smiled at him over her shoulder. Her body moved sinuously and +swiftly. She was keeping accurate measurement of the distance between +them--but McTaggart did not guess that this was why she looked back +every now and then. He was satisfied to let her go on. When she turned +from the narrow trail into a side path that scarcely bore the mark of +travel, his heart gave an exultant jump. If she kept on, he would very +soon have her alone--a good distance from the cabin. The blood ran hot +in his face. He did not speak to her, through fear that she would stop. +Ahead of them he heard the rumble of water. It was the creek running +through the chasm. + +Nepeese was making straight for that sound. With a little laugh she +started to run, and when she stood at the edge of the chasm, McTaggart +was fully fifty yards behind her. Twenty feet sheer down there was a +deep pool between the rock walls, a pool so deep that the water was the +color of blue ink. She turned to face the factor from Lac Bain. He had +never looked more like a red beast to her. Until this moment she had +been unafraid. But now--in an instant--he terrified her. Before she +could speak what she had planned to say, he was at her side, and had +taken her face between his two great hands, his coarse fingers twining +in the silken strands of her thick braids where they fell over her +shoulders at the neck. + +"Ka sakahet!" he cried passionately. "Pierrot said you would have an +answer for me. But I need no answer now. You are mine! Mine!" + +She gave a cry. It was a gasping, broken cry. His arms were about her +like bands of iron, crushing her slender body, shutting off her breath, +turning the world almost black before her eyes. She could neither +struggle nor cry out. She felt the hot passion of his lips on her face, +heard his voice--and then came a moment's freedom, and air into her +strangled lungs. Pierrot was calling! He had come to the fork in the +trail, and he was calling the Willow's name! + +McTaggart's hot hand came over her mouth. + +"Don't answer," she heard him say. + +Strength--anger--hatred flared up in her, and fiercely she struck the +hand down. Something in her wonderful eyes held McTaggart. They blazed +into his very soul. + +"Bete noir!" she panted at him, freeing herself from the last touch of +his hands. "Beast--black beast!" Her voice trembled, and her face +flamed. "See--I came to show you my pool--and tell you what you wanted +to hear--and you--you--have crushed me like a beast--like a great +rock-- See! down there--it is my pool!" + +She had not planned it like this. She had intended to be smiling, even +laughing, in this moment. But McTaggart had spoiled them--her carefully +made plans! And yet, as she pointed, the factor from Lac Bain looked +for an instant over the edge of the chasm. And then she +laughed--laughed as she gave him a sudden shove from behind. + +"And that is my answer, M'sieu le Facteur from Lac Bain!" she cried +tauntingly as he plunged headlong into the deep pool between the rock +walls. + + + +CHAPTER 14 + +From the edge of the open Pierrot saw what had happened, and he gave a +great gasp of horror. He drew back among the balsams. This was not a +moment for him to show himself. While his heart drummed like a hammer, +his face was filled with joy. + +On her hands and knees the Willow was peering over the edge. Bush +McTaggart had disappeared. He had gone down like the great clod he was. +The water of her pool had closed over him with a dull splash that was +like a chuckle of triumph. He appeared now, beating out with his arms +and legs to keep himself afloat, while the Willow's voice came to him +in taunting cries. + +"Bete noir! Bete noir! Beast! Beast--" + +Savagely she flung small sticks and tufts of earth down at him; and +McTaggart, looking up as he gained his equilibrium, saw her leaning so +far over that she seemed almost about to fall. Her long braids hung +down into the chasm, gleaming in the sun. Her eyes were laughing while +her lips taunted him. He could see the flash of her white teeth. + +"Beast! Beast!" + +He began swimming, still looking up at her. It was a hundred yards down +the slow-going current to the beach of shale where he could climb out, +and a half of that distance she followed him, laughing and taunting +him, and flinging down sticks and pebbles. He noted that none of the +sticks or stones was large enough to hurt him. When at last his feet +touched bottom, she was gone. + +Swiftly Nepeese ran back over the trail, and almost into Pierrot's +arms. She was panting and laughing when for a moment she stopped. + +"I have given him the answer, Nootawe! He is in the pool!" + +Into the balsams she disappeared like a bird. Pierrot made no effort to +stop her or to follow. + +"Tonnerre de Dieu," he chuckled--and cut straight across for the other +trail. + + +Nepeese was out of breath when she reached the cabin. Baree, fastened +to a table leg by a babiche thong, heard her pause for a moment at the +door. Then she entered and came straight to him. During the half-hour +of her absence Baree had scarcely moved. That half-hour, and the few +minutes that had preceded it, had made tremendous impressions upon him. +Nature, heredity, and instinct were at work, clashing and readjusting, +impinging on him a new intelligence--the beginning of a new +understanding. A swift and savage impulse had made him leap at Bush +McTaggart when the factor put his hand on the Willow's head. It was not +reason. It was a hearkening back of the dog to that day long ago when +Kazan, his father, had lulled the man-brute in the tent, the man-brute +who had dared to molest Thorpe's wife, whom Kazan worshiped. Then it +had been the dog--and the woman. + +And here again it was the woman. She had appealed to the great hidden +passion that was in Baree and that had come to him from Kazan. Of all +the living things in the world, he knew that he must not hurt this +creature that appeared to him through the door. He trembled as she +knelt before him again, and up through the years came the wild and +glorious surge of Kazan's blood, overwhelming the wolf, submerging the +savagery of his birth--and with his head flat on the floor he whined +softly, and WAGGED HIS TAIL. + +Nepeese gave a cry of joy. + +"Baree!" she whispered, taking his head in her hands. "Baree!" + +Her touch thrilled him. It sent little throbs through his body, a +tremulous quivering which she could feel and which deepened the glow in +her eyes. Gently her hand stroked his head and his back. It seemed to +Nepeese that he did not breathe. Under the caress of her hand his eyes +closed. In another moment she was talking to him, and at the sound of +her voice his eyes shot open. + +"He will come here--that beast--and he will kill us," she was saying. +"He will kill you because you bit him, Baree. Ugh, I wish you were +bigger, and stronger, so that you could take off his head for me!" + +She was untying the babiche from about the table leg, and under her +breath she laughed. She was not frightened. It was a tremendous +adventure--and she throbbed with exultation at the thought of having +beaten the man-beast in her own way. She could see him in the pool +struggling and beating about like a great fish. He was just about +crawling out of the chasm now--and she laughed again as she caught +Baree up under her arm. + +"Oh--oopi-nao--but you are heavy!" she gasped, "And yet I must carry +you--because I am going to run!" + +She hurried outside. Pierrot had not come, and she darted swiftly into +the balsams back of the cabin, with Baree hung in the crook of her arm, +like a sack filled at both ends and tied in the middle. He felt like +that, too. But he still had no inclination to wriggle himself free. +Nepeese ran with him until her arm ached. Then she stopped and put him +down on his feet, holding to the end of the caribou-skin thong that was +tied about his neck. She was prepared for any lunge he might make to +escape. She expected that he would make an attempt, and for a few +moments she watched him closely, while Baree, with his feet on earth +once more, looked about him. And then the Willow spoke to him softly. + +"You are not going to run away, Baree. Non, you are going to stay with +me, and we will kill that man-beast if he dares do to me again what he +did back there." She flung back the loose hair from about her flushed +face, and for a moment she forgot Baree as she thought of that +half-minute at the edge of the chasm. He was looking straight up at her +when her glance fell on him again. "Non, you are not going to run +away--you are going to follow me," she whispered. "Come." + +The babiche string tightened about Baree's neck as she urged him to +follow. It was like another rabbit snare, and he braced his forefeet +and bared his fangs just a little. The Willow did not pull. Fearlessly +she put her hand on his head again. From the direction of the cabin +came a shout, and at the sound of it she took Baree up under her arm +once more. + +"Bete noir--bete noir!" she called back tauntingly, but only loud +enough to be heard a few yards away. "Go back to Lac Bain--owases--you +wild beast!" + +Nepeese began to make her way swiftly through the forest. It grew +deeper and darker, and there were no trails. Three times in the next +half-hour she stopped to put Baree down and rest her arm. Each time she +pleaded with him coaxingly to follow her. The second and third times +Baree wriggled and wagged his tail, but beyond those demonstrations of +his satisfaction with the turn his affairs had taken he would not go. +When the string tightened around his neck, he braced himself; once he +growled--again he snapped viciously at the babiche. So Nepeese +continued to carry him. + +They came at last into a clearing. It was a tiny meadow in the heart of +the forest, not more than three or four times as big as the cabin. +Underfoot the grass was soft and green, and thickly strewn with +flowers. Straight through the heart of this little oasis trickled a +streamlet across which the Willow jumped with Baree under her arm, and +on the edge of the rill was a small wigwam made of freshly cut spruce +and balsam boughs. Into her diminutive mekewap the Willow thrust her +head to see that things were as she had left them yesterday. Then, with +a long breath of relief, she put down her four-legged burden and +fastened the end of the babiche to one of the cut spruce limbs. + +Baree burrowed himself back into the wall of the wigwam, and with head +alert--and eyes wide open--watched his companion attentively. Not a +movement of the Willow escaped him. She was radiant--and happy. Her +laugh, sweet and wild as a bird's trill, set Baree's heart throbbing +with a desire to jump about with her among the flowers. + +For a time Nepeese seemed to forget Baree. Her wild blood raced with +the joy of her triumph over the factor from Lac Bain. She saw him +again, floundering about in the pool--pictured him at the cabin now, +soaked and angry, demanding of mon pere where she had gone. And mon +pere, with a shrug of his shoulders, was telling him that he didn't +know--that probably she had run off into the forest. It did not enter +into her head that in tricking Bush McTaggart in that way she was +playing with dynamite. She did not foresee the peril that in an instant +would have stamped the wild flush from her face and curdled the blood +in her veins--she did not guess that McTaggart had become for her a +deadlier menace than ever. + +Nepeese knew that he must be angry. But what had she to fear? Mon pere +would be angry, too, if she told him what had happened at the edge of +the chasm. But she would not tell him. He might kill the man from Lac +Bain. A factor was great. But Pierrot, her father, was greater. It was +an unlimited faith in her, born of her mother. Perhaps even now Pierrot +was sending him back to Lac Bain, telling him that his business was +there. But she would not return to the cabin to see. She would wait +here. Mon pere would understand--and he knew where to find her when the +man was gone. But it would have been such fun to throw sticks at him as +he went! + +After a little Nepeese returned to Baree. She brought him water and +gave him a piece of raw fish. For hours they were alone, and with each +hour there grew stronger in Baree the desire to follow the girl in +every movement she made, to crawl close to her when she sat down, to +feel the touch of her dress, of her hand--and to hear her voice. But he +did not show this desire. He was still a little savage of the +forests--a four-footed barbarian born half of a wolf and half of a dog; +and he lay still. With Umisk he would have played. With Oohoomisew he +would have fought. At Bush McTaggart he would have bared his fangs, and +buried them deep when the chance came. But the girl was different. Like +the Kazan of old, he had begun to worship. If the Willow had freed +Baree, he would not have run away. If she had left him, he would +possibly have followed her--at a distance. His eyes were never away +from her. He watched her build a small fire and cook a piece of the +fish. He watched her eat her dinner. + +It was quite late in the afternoon when she came and sat down close to +him, with her lap full of flowers which she twined in the long, shining +braids of her hair. Then, playfully, she began beating Baree with the +end of one of these braids. He shrank under the soft blows, and with +that low, birdlike laughter in her throat, Nepeese drew his head into +her lap where the scatter of flowers lay. She talked to him. Her hand +stroked his head. Then it remained still, so near that he wanted to +thrust out his warm red tongue and caress it. He breathed in the +flower-scented perfume of it--and lay as if dead. It was a glorious +moment. Nepeese, looking down on him, could not see that he was +breathing. + +There came an interruption. It was the snapping of a dry stick. Through +the forest Pierrot had come with the stealth of a cat, and when they +looked up, he stood at the edge of the open. Baree knew that it was not +Bush McTaggart. But it was a man-beast! Instantly his body stiffened +under the Willow's hand. He drew back slowly and cautiously from her +lap, and as Pierrot advanced, Baree snarled. The next instant Nepeese +had risen and had run to Pierrot. The look in her father's face alarmed +her. + +"What has happened, mon pere?" she cried. + +Pierrot shrugged his shoulders. + +"Nothing, ma Nepeese--except that you have roused a thousand devils in +the heart of the factor from Lac Barn, and that--" + +He stopped as he saw Baree, and pointed at him. + +"Last night when M'sieu the Factor caught him in a snare, he bit +m'sieu's hand. M'sieu's hand is swollen twice its size, and I can see +his blood turning black. It is pechipoo." + +"Pechipoo!" gasped Nepeese. + +She looked into Pierrot's eyes. They were dark, and filled with a +sinister gleam--a flash of exultation, she thought. + +"Yes, it is the blood poison," said Pierrot. A gleam of cunning shot +into his eyes as he looked over his shoulder, and nodded. "I have +hidden the medicine--and told him there is no time to lose in getting +back to Lac Bain. And he is afraid--that devil! He is waiting. With +that blackening hand, he is afraid to start back alone--and so I go +with him. And--listen, ma Nepeese. We will be away by sundown, and +there is something you must know before I go." + +Baree saw them there, close together in the shadows thrown by the tall +spruce trees. He heard the low murmur of their voices--chiefly of +Pierrot's, and at last he saw Nepeese put her two arms up around the +man-beast's neck, and then Pierrot went away again into the forest. He +thought that the Willow would never turn her face toward him after +that. For a long time she stood looking in the direction which Pierrot +had taken. And when after a time she turned and came back to Baree, she +did not look like the Nepeese who had been twining flowers in her hair. +The laughter was gone from her face and eyes. She knelt down beside him +and with sudden fierceness she cried: + +"It is pechipoo, Baree! It was you--you--who put the poison in his +blood. And I hope he dies! For I am afraid--afraid!" + +She shivered. + +Perhaps it was in this moment that the Great Spirit of things meant +Baree to understand--that at last it was given him to comprehend that +his day had dawned, that the rising and the setting of his sun no +longer existed in the sky but in this girl whose hand rested on his +head. He whined softly, and inch by inch he dragged himself nearer to +her until again his head rested in the hollow of her lap. + + + +CHAPTER 15 + +For a long time after Pierrot left them the Willow did not move from +the spot where she had seated herself beside Baree. It was at last the +deepening shadows and a low rumble in the sky that roused her from the +fear of the things Pierrot had told her. When she looked up, black +clouds were massing slowly over the open space above the spruce tops. +Darkness was falling. In the whisper of the wind and the dead stillness +of the thickening gloom there was the sullen brewing of storm. Tonight +there would be no glorious sunset. There would be no twilight hour in +which to follow the trail, no moon, no stars--and unless Pierrot and +the factor were already on their way, they would not start in the face +of the pitch blackness that would soon shroud the forest. + +Nepeese shivered and rose to her feet. For the first time Baree got up, +and he stood close at her side. Above them a flash of lightning cut the +clouds like a knife of fire, followed in an instant by a terrific crash +of thunder. Baree shrank back as if struck a blow. He would have slunk +into the shelter of the brush wall of the wigwam, but there was +something about the Willow as he looked at her which gave him +confidence. The thunder crashed again. But he retreated no farther. His +eyes were fixed on Nepeese. + +She stood straight and slim in that gathering gloom riven by the +lightning, her beautiful head thrown back, her lips parted, and her +eyes glowing with an almost eager anticipation--a sculptured goddess +welcoming with bated breath the onrushing forces of the heavens. +Perhaps it was because she was born during a night of storm. Many times +Pierrot and the dead princess mother had told her that--how on the +night she had come into the world the crash of thunder and the flare of +lightning had made the hours an inferno, how the streams had burst over +their banks and the stems of ten thousand forest trees had snapped in +its fury--and the beat of the deluge on their cabin roof had drowned +the sound of her mother's pain, and of her own first babyish cries. + +On that night, it may be, the Spirit of Storm was born in Nepeese. She +loved to face it, as she was facing it now. It made her forget all +things but the splendid might of nature. Her half-wild soul thrilled to +the crash and fire of it. Often she had reached up her bare arms and +laughed with joy as the deluge burst about her. Even now she might have +stood there in the little open until the rain fell, if a whine from +Baree had not caused her to turn. As the first big drops struck with +the dull thud of leaden bullets about them, she went with him into the +balsam shelter. + +Once before Baree had passed through a night of terrible storm--the +night he had hidden himself under a root and had seen the tree riven by +lightning; but now he had company, and the warmth and soft pressure of +the Willow's hand on his head and neck filled him with a strange +courage. He growled softly at the crashing thunder. He wanted to snap +at the lightning flashes. Under her hand Nepeese felt the stiffening of +his body, and in a moment of uncanny stillness she heard the sharp, +uneasy click of his teeth. Then the rain fell. + +It was not like other rains Baree had known. It was an inundation +sweeping down out of the blackness of the skies. Within five minutes +the interior of the balsam shelter was a shower bath. After half an +hour of that torrential downpour, Nepeese was soaked to the skin. The +water ran in little rivulets down her body. It trickled in tiny streams +from her drenched braids and dropped from her long lashes, and the +blanket under her became wet as a mop. To Baree it was almost as bad as +his near-drowning in the stream after his fight with Papayuchisew, and +he snuggled closer and closer under the sheltering arm of the Willow. +It seemed an interminable time before the thunder rolled far to the +east, and the lightning died away into distant and intermittent +flashings. Even after that the rain fell for another hour. Then it +stopped as suddenly as it had begun. + +With a laughing gasp Nepeese rose to her feet. The water gurgled in her +moccasins as she walked out into the open. She paid no attention to +Baree--and he followed her. Across the open in the treetops the last of +the storm clouds were drifting away. A star shone--then another; and +the Willow stood watching them as they appeared until there were so +many she could not count. It was no longer black. A wonderful starlight +flooded the open after the inky gloom of the storm. + +Nepeese looked down and saw Baree. He was standing quietly and +unleashed, with freedom on all sides of him. Yet he did not run. He was +waiting, wet as a water rat, with his eyes fixed on her expectantly. +Nepeese made a movement toward him, and hesitated. + +"No, you will not run away, Baree. I will leave you free. And now we +must have a fire!" + +A fire! Anyone but Pierrot might have said that she was crazy. Not a +stem or twig in the forest that was not dripping! They could hear the +trickle of running water all about them. + +"A fire," she said again. "Let us hunt for the wuskisi, Baree." + +With her wet clothes clinging to her lightly, she was like a slim +shadow as she crossed the soggy clearing and lost herself among the +forest trees. Baree still followed. She went straight to a birch tree +that she had located that day and began tearing off the loose bark. An +armful of this bark she carried close to the wigwam, and on it she +heaped load after load of wet wood until she had a great pile. From a +bottle in the wigwam she secured a dry match, and at the first touch of +its tiny flame the birch bark flared up like paper soaked in oil. Half +an hour later the Willow's fire--if there had been no forest walls to +hide it--could have been seen at the cabin a mile away. Not until it +was blazing a dozen feet into the air did she cease piling wood on it. +Then she drove sticks into the soft ground and over these sticks she +stretched the blanket out to dry. + +So their first night passed--storm, the cool, deep pool, the big fire; +and later, when the Willow's clothes and the blanket had dried, a few +hours' sleep. At dawn they returned to the cabin. It was a cautious +approach. There was no smoke coming from the chimney. The door was +closed. Pierrot and Bush McTaggart were gone. + + + +CHAPTER 16 + +It was the beginning of August--the Flying-up Moon--when Pierrot +returned from Lac Bain, and in three days more it would be the Willow's +seventeenth birthday. He brought back with him many things for +Nepeese--ribbons for her hair, real shoes, which she wore at times like +the two Englishwomen at Nelson House, and chief glory of all, some +wonderful red cloth for a dress. In the three winters she had spent at +the mission these women had made much of Nepeese. They had taught her +to sew as well as to spell and read and pray, and at times there came +to the Willow a compelling desire to do as they did. + +So for three days Nepeese worked hard on her new dress and on her +birthday she stood before Pierrot in a fashion that took his breath +away. She had piled her hair in great coils on the crown of her head, +as Yvonne, the younger of the Englishwomen, had taught her, and in the +rich jet of it had half buried a vivid sprig of the crimson fireflower. +Under this, and the glow in her eyes, and the red flush of her lips and +cheeks came the wonderful red dress, fitted to the slim and sinuous +beauty of her form--as the style had been two winters ago at Nelson +House. And below the dress, which reached just below the knees--Nepeese +had quite forgotten the proper length, or else her material had run +out--came the coup de maitre of her toilet, real stockings and the gay +shoes with high heels! She was a vision before which the gods of the +forests might have felt their hearts stop beating. Pierrot turned her +round and round without a word, but smiling. When she left him, +however, followed by Baree, and limping a little because of the +tightness of her shoes, the smile faded from his face, leaving it cold +and bleak. + +"Mon Dieu," he whispered to himself in French, with a thought that was +like a sharp stab at his heart, "she is not of her mother's blood--non. +It is French. She is--yes--like an angel." + +A change had come over Pierrot. During the three days she had been +engaged in her dressmaking, Nepeese had been quite too excited to +notice this change, and Pierrot had tried to keep it from her. He had +been away ten days on the trip to Lac Bain, and he brought back to +Nepeese the joyous news that M'sieu McTaggart was very sick with +pechipoo--the blood poison--news that made the Willow clap her hands +and laugh happily. But he knew that the factor would get well, and that +he would come again to their cabin on the Gray Loon. And when next time +he came-- + +It was while he was thinking of this that his face grew cold and hard, +and his eyes burned. And he was thinking of it on this her birthday, +even as her laughter floated to him like a song. Dieu, in spite of her +seventeen years, she was nothing but a child--a baby! She could not +guess his horrible visions. And the dread of awakening her for all time +from that beautiful childhood kept him from telling her the whole truth +so that she might have understood fully and completely. Non, it should +not be that. His soul beat with a great and gentle love. He, Pierrot Du +Quesne, would do the watching. And she should laugh and sing and +play--and have no share in the black forebodings that had come to spoil +his life. + +On this day there came up from the south MacDonald, the government map +maker. He was gray and grizzled, with a great, free laugh and a clean +heart. Two days he remained with Pierrot. He told Nepeese of his +daughters at home, of their mother, whom he worshiped more than +anything else on earth--and before he went on in his quest of the last +timber line of Banksian pine, he took pictures of the Willow as he had +first seen her on her birthday: her hair piled in glossy coils, her red +dress, the high-heeled shoes. He carried the negatives on with him, +promising Pierrot that he would get a picture back in some way. Thus +fate works in its strange and apparently innocent ways as it spins its +webs of tragedy. + + +For many weeks after MacDonald's visit there followed tranquil days on +the Gray Loon. They were wonderful days for Baree. At first he was +suspicious of Pierrot. After a little he tolerated him, and at last +accepted him as a part of the cabin--and Nepeese. It was the Willow +whose shadow he became. Pierrot noted the attachment with the deepest +satisfaction. + +"Ah, in a few months more, if he should leap at the throat of M'sieu +the Factor," he said to himself one day. + +In September, when he was six months old, Baree was almost as large as +Gray Wolf--big-boned, long-fanged, with a deep chest, and jaws that +could already crack a bone as if it were a stick. He was with Nepeese +whenever and wherever she moved. They swam together in the two +pools--the pool in the forest and the pool between the chasm walls. At +first it alarmed Baree to see Nepeese dive from the rock wall over +which she had pushed McTaggart, but at the end of a month she had +taught him to plunge after her through that twenty feet of space. + +It was late in August when Baree saw the first of his kind outside of +Kazan and Gray Wolf. During the summer Pierrot allowed his dogs to run +at large on a small island in the center of a lake two or three miles +away, and twice a week he netted fish for them. On one of these trips +Nepeese accompanied him and took Baree with her. Pierrot carried his +long caribou-gut whip. He expected a fight. But there was none. Baree +joined the pack in their rush for fish, and ate with them. This pleased +Pierrot more than ever. + +"He will make a great sledge dog," he chuckled. "It is best to leave +him for a week with the pack, ma Nepeese." + +Reluctantly Nepeese gave her consent. While the dogs were still at +their fish, they started homeward. Their canoe had slipped away before +Baree discovered the trick they had played on him. Instantly he leaped +into the water and swam after them--and the Willow helped him into his +canoe. + +Early in September a passing Indian brought Pierrot word of Bush +McTaggart. The factor had been very sick. He had almost died from the +blood poison, but he was well now. With the first exhilarating tang of +autumn in the air a new dread oppressed Pierrot. But at present he said +nothing of what was in his mind to Nepeese. The Willow had almost +forgotten the factor from Lac Bain, for the glory and thrill of +wilderness autumn was in her blood. She went on long trips with +Pierrot, helping him to blaze out the new trap lines that would be used +when the first snows came, and on these journeys she was always +accompanied by Baree. + +Most of Nepeese's spare hours she spent in training him for the sledge. +She began with a babiche string and a stick. It was a whole day before +she could induce Baree to drag this stick without turning at every +other step to snap and growl at it. Then she fastened another length of +babiche to him, and made him drag two sticks. Thus little by little she +trained him to the sledge harness, until at the end of a fortnight he +was tugging heroically at anything she had a mind to fasten him to. +Pierrot brought home two of the dogs from the island, and Baree was put +into training with these, and helped to drag the empty sledge. Nepeese +was delighted. On the day the first light snow fell she clapped her +hands and cried to Pierrot: + +"By midwinter I will have him the finest dog in the pack, mon pere!" + +This was the time for Pierrot to say what was in his mind. He smiled. +Diantre--would not that beast the factor fall into the very devil of a +rage when he found how he had been cheated! And yet-- + +He tried to make his voice quiet and commonplace. + +"I am going to send you down to the school at Nelson House again this +winter, ma cherie," he said. "Baree will help draw you down on the +first good snow." + +The Willow was tying a knot in Baree's babiche, and she rose slowly to +her feet and looked at Pierrot. Her eyes were big and dark and steady. + +"I am not going, mon pere!" + +It was the first time Nepeese had ever said that to Pierrot--in just +that way. It thrilled him. And he could scarcely face the look in her +eyes. He was not good at bluffing. She saw what was in his face; it +seemed to him that she was reading what was in his mind, and that she +grew a little taller as she stood there. Certainly her breath came +quicker, and he could see the throb of her breast. Nepeese did not wait +for him to gather speech. + +"I am not going!" she repeated with even greater finality, and bent +again over Baree. + +With a shrug of his shoulders Pierrot watched her. After all, was he +not glad? Would his heart not have turned sick if she had been happy at +the thought of leaving him? He moved to her side and with great +gentleness laid a hand on her glossy head. Up from under it the Willow +smiled at him. Between them they heard the click of Baree's jaws as he +rested his muzzle on the Willow's arm. For the first time in weeks the +world seemed suddenly filled with sunshine for Pierrot. When he went +back to the cabin he held his head higher. Nepeese would not leave him! +He laughed softly. He rubbed his hands together. His fear of the factor +from Lac Bain was gone. From the cabin door he looked back at Nepeese +and Baree. + +"The Saints be blessed!" he murmured. "Now--now--it is Pierrot Du +Quesne who knows what to do!" + + + +CHAPTER 17 + +Back to Lac Bain, late in September, came MacDonald the map maker. For +ten days Gregson, the investigating agent, had been Bush McTaggart's +guest at the Post, and twice in that time it had come into Marie's mind +to creep upon him while he slept and kill him. The factor himself paid +little attention to her now, a fact which would have made her happy if +it had not been for Gregson. He was enraptured with the wild, sinuous +beauty of the Cree girl, and McTaggart, without jealousy, encouraged +him. He was tired of Marie. + +McTaggart told Gregson this. He wanted to get rid of her, and if +he--Gregson--could possibly take her along with him it would be a great +favor. He explained why. A little later, when the deep snows came, he +was going to bring the daughter of Pierrot Du Quesne to the Post. In +the rottenness of their brotherhood he told of his visit, of the manner +of his reception, and of the incident at the chasm. In spite of all +this, he assured Gregson, Pierrot's girl would soon be at Lac Bain. + +It was at this time that MacDonald came. He remained only one night, +and without knowing that he was adding fuel to a fire already +dangerously blazing, he gave the photograph he had taken of Nepeese to +the factor. It was a splendid picture. + +"If you can get it down to that girl some day I'll be mightily +obliged," he said to McTaggart. "I promised her one. Her father's name +is Du Quesne--Pierrot Du Quesne. You probably know them. And the girl--" + +His blood warmed as he described to McTaggart how beautiful she was +that day in her red dress, which appeared black in the photograph. He +did not guess how near McTaggart's blood was to the boiling point. + +The next day MacDonald started for Norway House. McTaggart did not show +Gregson the picture. He kept it to himself and at night, under the glow +of his lamp, he looked at it with thoughts that filled him with a +growing resolution. There was but one way. The scheme had been in his +mind for weeks--and the picture determined him. He dared not whisper +his secret even to Gregson. But it was the one way. It would give him +Nepeese. Only--he must wait for the deep snows, the midwinter snows. +They buried their tragedies deepest. + +McTaggart was glad when Gregson followed the map maker to Norway House. +Out of courtesy he accompanied him a day's journey on his way. When he +returned to the Post, Marie was gone. He was glad. He sent off a runner +with a load of presents for her people, and the message: "Don't beat +her. Keep her. She is free." + +Along with the bustle and stir of the beginning of the trapping season +McTaggart began to prepare his house for the coming of Nepeese. He knew +what she liked in the way of cleanliness and a few other things. He had +the log walls painted white with the lead and oil that were intended +for his York boats. Certain partitions were torn down, and new ones +were built. The Indian wife of his chief runner made curtains for the +windows, and he confiscated a small phonograph that should have gone on +to Lac la Biche. He had no doubts, and he counted the days as they +passed. + +Down on the Gray Loon Pierrot and Nepeese were busy at many things, so +busy that at times Pierrot's fears of the factor at Lac Bain were +almost forgotten, and they slipped out of the Willow's mind entirely. +It was the Red Moon, and both thrilled with the anticipation and +excitement of the winter hunt. Nepeese carefully dipped a hundred traps +in boiling caribou fat mixed with beaver grease, while Pierrot made +fresh deadfalls ready for setting on his trails. When he was gone more +than a day from the cabin, she was always with him. + +But at the cabin there was much to do, for Pierrot, like all his +Northern brotherhood, did not begin to prepare until the keen tang of +autumn was in the air. There were snowshoes to be rewebbed with new +babiche; there was wood to be cut in readiness for the winter storms. +The cabin had to be banked, a new harness made, skinning knives +sharpened and winter moccasins to be manufactured--a hundred and one +affairs to be attended to, even to the repairing of the meat rack at +the back of the cabin, where, from the beginning of cold weather until +the end, would hang the haunches of deer, caribou, and moose for the +family larder and, when fish were scarce, the dogs' rations. + +In the bustle of all these preparations Nepeese was compelled to give +less attention to Baree than she had during the preceding weeks. They +did not play so much; they no longer swam, for with the mornings there +was deep frost on the ground, and the water was turning icy cold. They +no longer wandered deep in the forest after flowers and berries. For +hours at a time Baree would now lie at the Willow's feet, watching her +slender fingers as they weaved swiftly in and out with her snowshoe +babiche. And now and then Nepeese would pause to lean over and put her +hand on his head, and talk to him for a moment--sometimes in her soft +Cree, sometimes in English or her father's French. + +It was the Willow's voice which Baree had learned to understand, and +the movement of her lips, her gestures, the poise of her body, the +changing moods which brought shadow or sunlight into her face. He knew +what it meant when she smiled. He would shake himself, and often jump +about her in sympathetic rejoicing, when she laughed. Her happiness was +such a part of him that a stern word from her was worse than a blow. +Twice Pierrot had struck him, and twice Baree had leaped back and faced +him with bared fangs and an angry snarl, the crest along his back +standing up like a brush. Had one of the other dogs done this, Pierrot +would have half-killed him. It would have been mutiny, and the man must +be master. But Baree was always safe. A touch of the Willow's hand, a +word from her lips, and the crest slowly settled and the snarl went out +of his throat. + +Pierrot was not at all displeased. + +"Dieu. I will never go so far as to try and whip that out of him," he +told himself. "He is a barbarian--a wild beast--and her slave. For her +he would kill!" + +So it turned out, through Pierrot himself--and without telling his +reason for it--that Baree did not become a sledge dog. He was allowed +his freedom, and was never tied, like the others. Nepeese was glad, but +did not guess the thought that was in Pierrot's mind. To himself +Pierrot chuckled. She would never know why he kept Baree always +suspicious of him, even to the point of hating him. + +It required considerable skill and cunning on his part. With himself he +reasoned: + +"If I make him hate me, he will hate all men. Mey-oo! That is good." + +So he looked into the future--for Nepeese. + +Now the tonic-filled days and cold, frosty nights of the Red Moon +brought about the big change in Baree. It was inevitable. Pierrot knew +that it would come, and the first night that Baree settled back on his +haunches and howled up at the Red Moon, Pierrot prepared Nepeese for it. + +"He is a wild dog, ma Nepeese," he said to her. "He is half wolf, and +the Call will come to him strong. He will go into the forests. He will +disappear at times. But we must not fasten him. He will come back. Ka, +he will come back!" And he rubbed his hands in the moonglow until his +knuckles cracked. + +The Call came to Baree like a thief entering slowly and cautiously into +a forbidden place. He did not understand it at first. It made him +nervous and uneasy, so restless that Nepeese frequently heard him whine +softly in his sleep. He was waiting for something. What was it? Pierrot +knew, and smiled in his inscrutable way. + +And then it came. It was night, a glorious night filled with moon and +stars, under which the earth was whitening with a film of frost, when +they heard the first hunt call of the wolves. Now and then during the +summer there had come the lone wolf howl, but this was the tonguing of +the pack; and as it floated through the vast silence and mystery of the +night, a song of savagery that had come with each Red Moon down through +unending ages, Pierrot knew that at last had come that for which Baree +had been waiting. + +In an instant Baree had sensed it. His muscles grew taut as pieces of +stretched rope as he stood up in the moonlight, facing the direction +from which floated the mystery and thrill of the sound. They could hear +him whining softly; and Pierrot, bending down so that he caught the +light of the night properly, could see him trembling. + +"It is Mee-Koo!" he said in a whisper to Nepeese. + +That was it, the call of the blood that was running swift in Baree's +veins--not alone the call of his species, but the call of Kazan and +Gray Wolf and of his forbears for generations unnumbered. It was the +voice of his people. So Pierrot had whispered, and he was right. In the +golden night the Willow was waiting, for it was she who had gambled +most, and it was she who must lose or win. She uttered no sound, +replied not to the low voice of Pierrot, but held her breath and +watched Baree as he slowly faded away, step by step, into the shadows. +In a few moments more he was gone. It was then that she stood straight, +and flung back her head, with eyes that glowed in rivalry with the +stars. + +"Baree!" she called. "Baree! Baree! Baree!" + +He must have been near the edge of the forest, for she had drawn a +slow, waiting breath or two before he was and he whined up into her +face. Nepeese put her hands to his head. + +"You are right, mon pere," she said. "He will go to the wolves, but he +will come back. He will never leave me for long." With one hand still +on Baree's head, she pointed with the other into the pitlike blackness +of the forest. "Go to them, Baree!" she whispered. "But you must come +back. You must. Cheamao!" + +With Pierrot she went into the cabin; the door closed silence. In it he +could hear the soft night sounds: the clinking of the chains to which +the dogs were fastened, the restless movement of their bodies, the +throbbing whir of a pair of wings, the breath of the night itself. For +to him this night, even in its stillness, seemed alive. Again he went +into it, and close to the forest once more he stopped to listen. The +wind had turned, and on it rode the wailing, blood-thrilling cry of the +pack. Far off to the west a lone wolf turned his muzzle to the sky and +answered that gathering call of his clan. And then out of the east came +a voice, so far beyond the cabin that it was like an echo dying away in +the vastness of the night. + +A choking note gathered in Baree's throat. He threw up his head. +Straight above him was the Red Moon, inviting him to the thrill and +mystery of the open world. + +The sound grew in his throat, and slowly it rose in volume until his +answer was rising to the stars. In their cabin Pierrot and the Willow +heard it. Pierrot shrugged his shoulders. + +"He is gone," he said. + +"Oui, he is gone, mon pere" replied Nepeese, peering through the window. + + + +CHAPTER 18 + +No longer, as in the days of old, did the darkness of the forests hold +a fear for Baree. This night his hunt cry had risen to the stars and +the moon, and in that cry he had, for the first time, sent forth his +defiance of night and space, his warning to all the wild, and his +acceptance of the Brotherhood. In that cry, and the answers that came +back to him, he sensed a new power--the final triumph of nature in +telling him that the forests and the creatures they held were no longer +to be feared, but that all things feared him. Off there, beyond the +pale of the cabin and the influence of Nepeese, were all the things +that the wolf blood in him found now most desirable: companionship of +his kind, the lure of adventure, the red, sweet blood of the chase--and +matehood. This last, after all, was the dominant mystery that was +urging him, and yet least of all did he understand it. + +He ran straight into the darkness to the north and west, slinking low +under the bushes, his tail drooping, his ears aslant--the wolf as the +wolf runs on the night trail. The pack had swung due north, and was +traveling faster than he, so that at the end of half an hour he could +no longer hear it. But the lone wolf howl to the west was nearer, and +three times Baree gave answer to it. + +At the end of an hour he heard the pack again, swinging southward. +Pierrot would easily have understood. Their quarry had found safety +beyond water, or in a lake, and the muhekuns were on a fresh trail. By +this time not more than a quarter of a mile of the forest separated +Baree from the lone wolf, but the lone wolf was also an old wolf, and +with the directness and precision of long experience, he swerved in the +direction of the hunters, compassing his trail so that he was heading +for a point half or three-quarters of a mile in advance of the pack. + +This was a trick of the Brotherhood which Baree had yet to learn; and +the result of his ignorance, and lack of skill, was that twice within +the next half-hour he found himself near to the pack without being able +to join it. Then came a long and final silence. The pack had pulled +down its kill, and in their feasting they made no sound. + +The rest of the night Baree wandered alone, or at least until the moon +was well on the wane. He was a long way from the cabin, and his trail +had been an uncertain and twisting one, but he was no longer possessed +with the discomforting sensation of being lost. The last two or three +months had been developing strongly in him the sense of orientation, +that "sixth sense" which guides the pigeon unerringly on its way and +takes a bear straight as a bird might fly to its last year's denning +place. + +Baree had not forgotten Nepeese. A dozen times he turned his head back +and whined, and always he picked out accurately the direction in which +the cabin lay. But he did not turn back. As the night lengthened, his +search for that mysterious something which he had not found continued. +His hunger, even with the fading-out of the moon and the coming of the +gray dawn, was not sufficiently keen to make him hunt for food. + +It was cold, and it seemed colder when the glow of the moon and stars +died out. Under his padded feet, especially in the open spaces, was a +thick white frost in which he left clearly at times the imprint of his +toes and claws. He had traveled steadily for hours, a great many miles +in all, and he was tired when the first light of the day came. And then +there came the time when, with a sudden sharp click of his jaws, he +stopped like a shot in his tracks. + +At last it had come--the meeting with that for which he had been +seeking. It was in a clearing, lighted by the cold dawn--a tiny +amphitheater that lay on the side of a ridge, facing the east. With her +head toward him, and waiting for him as he came out of the shadows, his +scent strong in her keen nose, stood Maheegun, the young wolf. Baree +had not smelled her, but he saw her directly he came out of the rim of +young balsams that fringed the clearing. It was then that he stopped, +and for a full minute neither of them moved a muscle or seemed to +breathe. + +There was not a fortnight's difference in their age and yet Maheegun +was much the smaller of the two. Her body was as long, but she was +slimmer; she stood on slender legs that were almost like the legs of a +fox, and the curve of her back was that of a slightly bent bow, a sign +of swiftness almost equal to the wind. She stood poised for flight even +as Baree advanced his first step toward her, and then very slowly her +body relaxed, and in a direct ratio as he drew nearer her ears lost +their alertness and dropped aslant. + +Baree whined. His own ears were up, his head alert, his tail aloft and +bushy. Cleverness, if not strategy, had already become a part of his +masculine superiority, and he did not immediately press the affair. He +was within five feet of Maheegun when he casually turned away from her +and faced the east, where a faint penciling of red and gold was +heralding the day. For a few moments he sniffed and looked around and +pointed the wind with much seriousness, as though impressing on his +fair acquaintance--as many a two-legged animal has done before him--his +tremendous importance in the world at large. + +And Maheegun was properly impressed. Baree's bluff worked as +beautifully as the bluffs of the two-legged animals. He sniffed the air +with such thrilling and suspicious zeal that Maheegun's ears sprang +alert, and she sniffed it with him. He turned his head from point to +point so sharply and alertly that her feminine curiosity, if not +anxiety, made her turn her own head in questioning conjunction. And +when he whined, as though in the air he had caught a mystery which she +could not possibly understand, a responsive note gathered in her +throat, but smothered and low as a woman's exclamation when she is not +quite sure whether she should interrupt her lord or not. At this sound, +which Baree's sharp ears caught, he swung up to her with a light and +mincing step, and in another moment they were smelling noses. + +When the sun rose, half an hour later, it found them still in the small +clearing on the side of the ridge, with a deep fringe of forest under +them, and beyond that a wide, timbered plain which looked like a +ghostly shroud in its mantle of frost. Up over this came the first red +glow of the day, filling the clearing with a warmth that grew more and +more comfortable as the sun crept higher. + +Neither Baree nor Maheegun were inclined to move for a while, and for +an hour or two they lay basking in a cup of the slope, looking down +with questing and wide-awake eyes upon the wooded plain that stretched +away under them like a great sea. + +Maheegun, too, had sought the hunt pack, and like Baree had failed to +catch it. They were tired, a little discouraged for the time, and +hungry--but still alive with the fine thrill of anticipation, and +restlessly sensitive to the new and mysterious consciousness of +companionship. Half a dozen times Baree got up and nosed about Maheegun +as she lay in the sun, whining to her softly and touching her soft coat +with his muzzle, but for a long time she paid little attention to him. +At last she followed him. All that day they wandered and rested +together. Once more the night came. + +It was without moon or stars. Gray masses of clouds swept slowly down +out of the north and east, and in the treetops there was scarcely a +whisper of wind as night gathered in. The snow began to fall at dusk, +thickly, heavily, without a breath of sound. It was not cold, but it +was still--so still that Baree and Maheegun traveled only a few yards +at a time, and then stopped to listen. In this way all the night +prowlers of the forest were traveling, if they were moving at all. It +was the first of the Big Snow. + +To the flesh-eating wild things of the forests, clawed and winged, the +Big Snow was the beginning of the winter carnival of slaughter and +feasting, of wild adventure in the long nights, of merciless warfare on +the frozen trails. The days of breeding, of motherhood--the peace of +spring and summer--were over. Out of the sky came the wakening of the +Northland, the call of all flesh-eating creatures to the long hunt, and +in the first thrill of it living things were moving but little this +night, and that watchfully and with suspicion. Youth made it all new to +Baree and Maheegun. Their blood ran swiftly; their feet fell softly; +their ears were attuned to catch the slightest sounds. + +In this first of the Big Snow they felt the exciting pulse of a new +life. It lured them on. It invited them to adventure into the white +mystery of the silent storm; and inspired by that restlessness of youth +and its desires, they went on. + +The snow grew deeper under their feet. In the open spaces they waded +through it to their knees, and it continued to fall in a vast white +cloud that descended steadily out of the sky. It was near midnight when +it stopped. The clouds drifted away from under the stars and the moon, +and for a long time Baree and Maheegun stood without moving, looking +down from the bald crest of a ridge upon a wonderful world. + +Never had they been able to see so far, except in the light of day. +Under them was a plain. They could make out forests, lone trees that +stood up like shadows out of the snow, a stream--still +unfrozen--shimmering like glass with the flicker of firelight on it. +Toward this stream Baree led the way. He no longer thought of Nepeese, +and he whined with pent-up happiness as he stopped halfway down and +turned to muzzle Maheegun. He wanted to roll in the snow and frisk +about with his companion; he wanted to bark, to put up his head and +howl as he had howled at the Red Moon back at the cabin. + +Something held him from doing any of these things. Perhaps it was +Maheegun's demeanor. She accepted his attentions rigidly. Once or twice +she had seemed almost frightened; twice Baree had heard the sharp +clicking of her teeth. The previous night, and all through tonight's +storm, their companionship had grown more intimate, but now there was +taking its place a mysterious aloofness on the part of Maheegun. +Pierrot could have explained. With moon and stars above him, Baree, +like the night, had undergone a transformation which even the sunlight +of day had not made in him before. His coat was like polished jet. +Every hair in his body glistened black. BLACK! That was it. And Nature +was trying to tell Maheegun that of all the creatures hated by her +kind, the creature which they feared and hated most was black. With her +it was not experience, but instinct--telling her of the age-old feud +between the gray wolf and the black bear. And Baree's coat, in the +moonlight and the snow, was blacker than Wakayoo's had ever been in the +fish-fattening days of May. Until they struck the broad openings of the +plain, the young she-wolf had followed Baree without hesitation; now +there was a gathering strangeness and indecision in her manner, and +twice she stopped and would have let Baree go on without her. + +An hour after they entered the plain there came suddenly out of the +west the tonguing of the wolf pack. It was not far distant, probably +not more than a mile along the foot of the ridge, and the sharp, quick +yapping that followed the first outburst was evidence that the +long-fanged hunters had put up sudden game, a caribou or young moose, +and were close at its heels. At the voice of her own people Maheegun +laid her ears close to her head and was off like an arrow from a bow. + +The unexpectedness of her movement and the swiftness of her flight put +Baree well behind her in the race over the plain. She was running +blindly, favored by luck. For an interval of perhaps five minutes the +pack were so near to their game that they made no sound, and the chase +swung full into the face of Maheegun and Baree. The latter was not half +a dozen lengths behind the young wolf when a crashing in the brush +directly ahead stopped them so sharply that they tore up the snow with +their braced forefeet and squat haunches. Ten seconds later a caribou +burst through and flashed across a clearing not more than twenty yards +from where they stood. They could hear its swift panting as it +disappeared. And then came the pack. + +At sight of those swiftly moving gray bodies Baree's heart leaped for +an instant into his throat. He forgot Maheegun, and that she had run +away from him. The moon and the stars went out of existence for him. He +no longer sensed the chill of the snow under his feet. He was wolf--all +wolf. With the warm scent of the caribou in his nostrils, and the +passion to kill sweeping through him like fire, he darted after the +pack. + +Even at that, Maheegun was a bit ahead of him. He did not miss her. In +the excitement of his first chase he no longer felt the desire to have +her at his side. Very soon he found himself close to the flanks of one +of the gray monsters of the pack. Half a minute later a new hunter +swept in from the bush behind him, and then a second, and after that a +third. At times he was running shoulder to shoulder with his new +companions. He heard the whining excitement in their throats; the snap +of their jaws as they ran--and in the golden moonlight ahead of him the +sound of a caribou as it plunged through thickets and over windfalls in +its race for life. + +It was as if Baree had belonged to the pack always. He had joined it +naturally, as other stray wolves had joined it from out of the bush. +There had been no ostentation, no welcome such as Maheegun had given +him in the open, and no hostility. He belonged with these slim, +swift-footed outlaws of the old forests, and his own jaws snapped and +his blood ran hot as the smell of the caribou grew heavier, and the +sound of its crashing body nearer. + +It seemed to him they were almost at its heels when they swept into an +open plain, a stretch of barren without a tree or a shrub, brilliant in +the light of the stars and moon. Across its unbroken carpet of snow +sped the caribou a spare hundred yards ahead of the pack. Now the two +leading hunters no longer followed directly in the trail, but shot out +at an angle, one to the right and the other to the left of the pursued, +and like well-trained soldiers the pack split in halves and spread out +fan shape in the final charge. + +The two ends of the fan forged ahead and closed in, until the leaders +were running almost abreast of the caribou, with fifty or sixty feet +separating them from the pursued. Thus, adroitly and swiftly, with +deadly precision, the pack had formed a horseshoe cordon of fangs from +which there was but one course of flight--straight ahead. For the +caribou to swerve half a degree to the right or left meant death. It +was the duty of the leaders to draw in the ends of the horseshoe now, +until one or both of them could make the fatal lunge for the +hamstrings. After that it would be a simple matter. The pack would +close in over the caribou like an inundation. + +Baree had found his place in the lower rim of the horseshoe, so that he +was fairly well in the rear when the climax came. The plain made a +sudden dip. Straight ahead was the gleam of water--water shimmering +softly in the starglow, and the sight of it sent a final great spurt of +blood through the caribou's bursting heart. Forty seconds would tell +the story--forty seconds of a last spurt for life, of a final +tremendous effort to escape death. Baree felt the sudden thrill of +these moments, and he forged ahead with the others in that lower rim of +the horseshoe as one of the leading wolves made a lunge for the young +bull's hamstring. It was a clean miss. A second wolf darted in. And +this one also missed. + +There was no time for others to take their place. From the broken end +of the horseshoe Baree heard the caribou's heavy plunge into water. +When Baree joined the pack, a maddened, mouth-frothing, snarling horde, +Napamoos, the young bull, was well out in the river and swimming +steadily for the opposite shore. + +It was then that Baree found himself at the side of Maheegun. She was +panting; her red tongue hung from her open jaws. But at his presence +she brought her fangs together with a snap and slunk from him into the +heart of the wind-run and disappointed pack. The wolves were in an ugly +temper, but Baree did not sense the fact. Nepeese had trained him to +take to water like an otter, and he did not understand why this narrow +river should stop them as it had. He ran down to the water and stood +belly deep in it, facing for an instant the horde of savage beasts +above him, wondering why they did not follow. And he was black--BLACK. +He came among them again, and for the first time they noticed him. + +The restless movements of the waters ceased now. A new and wondering +interest held them rigid. Fangs closed sharply. A little in the open +Baree saw Maheegun, with a big gray wolf standing near her. He went to +her again, and this time she remained with flattened ears until he was +sniffing her neck. And then, with a vicious snarl, she snapped at him. +Her teeth sank deep in the soft flesh of his shoulder, and at the +unexpectedness and pain of her attack, he let out a yelp. The next +instant the big gray wolf was at him. + +Again caught unexpectedly, Baree went down with the wolf's fangs at his +throat. But in him was the blood of Kazan, the flesh and bone and sinew +of Kazan, and for the first time in his life he fought as Kazan fought +on that terrible day at the top of the Sun Rock. He was young; he had +yet to learn the cleverness and the strategy of the veteran. But his +jaws were like the iron clamps with which Pierrot set his bear traps, +and in his heart was sudden and blinding rage, a desire to kill that +rose above all sense of pain or fear. + +That fight, if it had been fair, would have been a victory for Baree, +even in his youth and inexperience. In fairness the pack should have +waited. It was a law of the pack to wait--until one was done for. But +Baree was black. He was a stranger, an interloper, a creature whom they +noticed now in a moment when their blood was hot with the rage and +disappointment of killers who had missed their prey. A second wolf +sprang in, striking Baree treacherously from the flank. And while he +was in the snow, his jaws crushing the foreleg of his first foe, the +pack was on him en masse. + +Such an attack on the young caribou bull would have meant death in less +than a minute. Every fang would have found its hold. Baree, by the +fortunate circumstance that he was under his first two assailants and +protected by their bodies, was saved from being torn instantly into +pieces. He knew that he was fighting for his life. Over him the horde +of beasts rolled and twisted and snarled. He felt the burning pain of +teeth sinking into his flesh. He was smothered; a hundred knives seemed +cutting him into pieces; yet no sound--not a whimper or a cry--came +from him now in the horror and hopelessness of it all. + +It would have ended in another half-minute had the struggle not been at +the very edge of the bank. Undermined by the erosion of the spring +floods, a section of this bank suddenly gave way, and with it went +Baree and half the pack. In a flash Baree thought of the water and the +escaping caribou. For a bare instant the cave-in had set him free of +the pack, and in that space he gave a single leap over the gray backs +of his enemies into the deep water of the stream. Close behind him half +a dozen jaws snapped shut on empty air. As it had saved the caribou, so +this strip of water shimmering in the glow of the moon and stars had +saved Baree. + +The stream was not more than a hundred feet in width, but it cost Baree +close to a losing struggle to get across it. Until he dragged himself +out on the opposite shore, the extent of his injuries was not impressed +upon him fully. One hind leg, for the time, was useless. His forward +left shoulder was laid open to the bone. His head and body were torn +and cut; and as he dragged himself slowly away from the stream, the +trail he left in the snow was a red path of blood. It trickled from his +panting jaws, between which his tongue was bleeding. It ran down his +legs and flanks and belly, and it dripped from his ears, one of which +was slit clean for two inches as though cut with a knife. His instincts +were dazed, his perception of things clouded as if by a veil drawn +close over his eyes. He did not hear, a few minutes later, the howling +of the disappointed wolf horde on the other side of the river, and he +no longer sensed the existence of moon or stars. Half dead, he dragged +himself on until by chance he came to a clump of dwarf spruce. Into +this he struggled, and then he dropped exhausted. + +All that night and until noon the next day Baree lay without moving. +The fever burned in his blood. It flamed high and swift toward death; +then it ebbed slowly, and life conquered. At noon he came forth. He was +weak, and he wobbled on his legs. His hind leg still dragged, and he +was racked with pain. But it was a splendid day. The sun was warm; the +snow was thawing; the sky was like a great blue sea; and the floods of +life coursed warmly again through Baree's veins. But now, for all time, +his desires were changed, and his great quest at an end. + +A red ferocity grew in Baree's eyes as he snarled in the direction of +last night's fight with the wolves. They were no longer his people. +They were no longer of his blood. Never again could the hunt call lure +him or the voice of the pack rouse the old longing. In him there was a +thing newborn, an undying hatred for the wolf, a hatred that was to +grow in him until it became like a disease in his vitals, a thing ever +present and insistent, demanding vengeance on their kind. Last night he +had gone to them a comrade. Today he was an outcast. Cut and maimed, +bearing with him scars for all time, he had learned his lesson of the +wilderness. Tomorrow, and the next day, and for days after that without +number, he would remember the lesson well. + + + +CHAPTER 19 + +At the cabin on the Gray Loon, on the fourth night of Baree's absence, +Pierrot was smoking his pipe after a great supper of caribou tenderloin +he had brought in from the trail, and Nepeese was listening to his tale +of the remarkable shot he had made, when a sound at the door +interrupted them. Nepeese opened it, and Baree came in. The cry of +welcome that was on the girl's lips died there instantly, and Pierrot +stared as if he could not quite believe this creature that had returned +was the wolf dog. Three days and nights of hunger in which he could not +hunt because of the leg that dragged had put on him the marks of +starvation. Battle-scarred and covered with dried blood clots that +still clung tenaciously to his long hair, he was a sight that drew at +last a long despairing breath from Nepeese. A queer smile was growing +in Pierrot's face as he leaned forward in his chair. Then slowly rising +to his feet and looking closer, he said to Nepeese: + +"Ventre Saint Gris! Oui, he has been to the pack, Nepeese, and the pack +turned on him. It was not a two-wolf fight--non! It was the pack. He is +cut and torn in fifty places. And--mon Dieu, he is alive!" + +In Pierrot's voice there was growing wonder and amazement. He was +incredulous, and yet he could not disbelieve what his eyes told him. +What had happened was nothing short of a miracle, and for a time he +uttered not a word more but remained staring in silence while Nepeese +recovered from her astonishment to give Baree doctoring and food. After +he had eaten ravenously of cold boiled mush she began bathing his +wounds in warm water, and after that she soothed them with bear grease, +talking to him all the time in her soft Cree. After the pain and hunger +and treachery of his adventure, it was a wonderful homecoming for +Baree. He slept that night at the foot of the Willow's bed. The next +morning it was the cool caress of his tongue on her hand that awakened +her. + +With this day they resumed the comradeship interrupted by Baree's +temporary desertion. The attachment was greater than ever on Baree's +part. It was he who had run away from the Willow, who had deserted her +at the call of the pack, and it seemed at times as though he sensed the +depths of his perfidy and was striving to make amends. There was +indubitably a very great change in him. He clung to Nepeese like a +shadow. Instead of sleeping at night in the spruce shelter Pierrot made +for him, he made himself a little hollow in the earth close to the +cabin door. Pierrot thought that he understood, and Nepeese thought +that she understood even more; but in reality the key to the mystery +remained with Baree himself. He no longer played as he had played +before he went off alone into the forest. He did not chase sticks, or +run until he was winded, for the pure joy of running. His puppyishness +was gone. In its place was a great worship and a rankling bitterness, a +love for the girl and a hatred for the pack and all that it stood for. +Whenever he heard the wolf howl, it brought an angry snarl into his +throat, and he would bare his fangs until even Pierrot would draw a +little away from him. But a touch of the girl's hand would quiet him. + +In a week or two the heavier snows came, and Pierrot began making his +trips over the trap lines. Nepeese had entered into an exciting bargain +with him this winter. Pierrot had taken her into partnership. Every +fifth trap, every fifth deadfall, and every fifth poison bait was to be +her own, and what they caught or killed was to bring a bit nearer to +realization a wonderful dream that was growing in the Willow's heart. +Pierrot had promised. If they had great luck that winter, they would go +down together on the last snows to Nelson House and buy the little old +organ that was for sale there. And if the organ was sold, they would +work another winter, and get a new one. + +This plan gave Nepeese an enthusiastic and tireless interest in the +trap line. With Pierrot it was more or less a fine bit of strategy. He +would have sold his hand to give Nepeese the organ. He was determined +that she should have it, whether the fifth traps and the fifth +deadfalls and fifth poison baits caught the fur or not. The partnership +meant nothing so far as the actual returns were concerned. But in +another way it meant to Nepeese a business interest, the thrill of +personal achievement. Pierrot impressed on her that it made a comrade +and coworker of her on the trail. His scheme was to keep her with him +when he was away from the cabin. He knew that Bush McTaggart would come +again to the Gray Loon, probably more than once during the winter. He +had swift dogs, and it was a short journey. And when McTaggart came, +Nepeese must not be at the cabin--alone. + +Pierrot's trap line swung into the north and west, covering in all a +matter of fifty miles, with an average of two traps, one deadfall, and +a poison bait to each mile. It was a twisting line blazed along streams +for mink, otter, and marten, piercing the deepest forests for fishercat +and lynx and crossing lakes and storm-swept strips of barrens where +poison baits could be set for fox and wolf. Halfway over this line +Pierrot had built a small log cabin, and at the end of it another, so +that a day's work meant twenty-five miles. This was easy for Pierrot, +and not hard on Nepeese after the first few days. + +All through October and November they made the trips regularly, making +the round every six days, which gave one day of rest at the cabin on +the Gray Loon and another day in the cabin at the end of the trail. To +Pierrot the winter's work was business, the labor of his people for +many generations back. To Nepeese and Baree it was a wild and joyous +adventure that never for a day grew tiresome. Even Pierrot could not +quite immunize himself against their enthusiasm. It was infectious, and +he was happier than he had been since his sun had set that evening the +princess mother died. + +They were glorious months. Fur was thick, and it was steadily cold +without any bad storms. Nepeese not only carried a small pack on her +shoulders in order that Pierrot's load might be lighter, but she +trained Baree to bear tiny shoulder panniers which she manufactured. In +these panniers Baree carried the bait. In at least a third of the total +number of traps set there was always what Pierrot called +trash--rabbits, owls, whisky jacks, jays, and squirrels. These, with +the skin or feathers stripped off, made up the bulk of the bait for the +traps ahead. + +One afternoon early in December, as they were returning to the Gray +Loon, Pierrot stopped suddenly a dozen paces ahead of Nepeese and +stared at the snow. A strange snowshoe trail had joined their own and +was heading toward the cabin. For half a minute Pierrot was silent and +scarcely moved a muscle as he stared. The trail came straight out of +the north--and off there was Lac Bain. + +Also they were the marks of large snowshoes, and the stride indicated +was that of a tall man. Before Pierrot had spoken, Nepeese had guessed +what they meant. "M'sieu the Factor from Lac Bain!" she said. + +Baree was sniffing suspiciously at the strange trail. They heard the +low growl in his throat, and Pierrot's shoulders stiffened. + +"Yes, the m'sieu," he said. + +The Willow's heart beat more swiftly as they went on. She was not +afraid of McTaggart, not physically afraid. And yet something rose up +in her breast and choked her at the thought of his presence on the Gray +Loon. Why was he there? It was not necessary for Pierrot to answer the +question, even had she given voice to it. She knew. The factor from Lac +Bain had no business there--except to see her. The blood burned red in +her cheeks as she thought again of that minute on the edge of the chasm +when he had almost crushed her in his arms. Would he try that again? + +Pierrot, deep in his own somber thoughts, scarcely heard the strange +laugh that came suddenly from her lips. Nepeese was listening to the +growl that was again in Baree's throat. It was a low but terrible +sound. When half a mile from the cabin, she unslung the panniers from +his shoulders and carried them herself. Ten minutes later they saw a +man advancing to meet them. + +It was not McTaggart. Pierrot recognized him, and with an audible +breath of relief waved his hand. It was DeBar, who trapped in the +Barren Country north of Lac Bain. Pierrot knew him well. They had +exchanged fox poison. They were friends, and there was pleasure in the +grip of their hands. DeBar stared then at Nepeese. + +"Tonnerre, she has grown into a woman!" he cried, and like a woman +Nepeese looked at him straight, with the color deepening in her cheeks, +as he bowed low with a courtesy that dated back a couple of centuries +beyond the trap line. + +DeBar lost no time in explaining his mission, and before they reached +the cabin Pierrot and Nepeese knew why he had come. M'sieu, the factor +at Lac Bain, was leaving on a journey in five days, and he had sent +DeBar as a special messenger to request Pierrot to come up to assist +the clerk and the half-breed storekeeper in his absence. Pierrot made +no comment at first. But he was thinking. Why had Bush McTaggart sent +for HIM? Why had he not chosen some one nearer? Not until a fire was +crackling in the sheet-iron stove in the cabin, and Nepeese was busily +engaged getting supper, did he voice these questions to the fox hunter. + +DeBar shrugged his shoulders. + +"He asked me, at first, if I could stay. But I have a wife with a bad +lung, Pierrot. It was caught by frost last winter, and I dare not leave +her long alone. He has great faith in you. Besides, you know all the +trappers on the company's books at Lac Bain. So he sent for you, and +begs you not to worry about your fur lines, as he will pay you double +what you would catch in the time you are at the Post." + +"And--Nepeese?" said Pierrot. "M'sieu expects me to bring her?" + +From the stove the Willow bent her head to listen, and her heart leaped +free again at DeBar's answer. + +"He said nothing about that. But surely--it will be a great change for +li'le m'selle." + +Pierrot nodded. + +"Possibly, Netootam." + +They discussed the matter no more that night. But for hours Pierrot was +still, thinking, and a hundred times he asked himself that same +question: Why had McTaggart sent for him? He was not the only man well +known to the trappers on the company's books. There was Wassoon, for +instance, the half-breed Scandinavian whose cabin was less than four +hours' journey from the Post--or Baroche, the white-bearded old +Frenchman who lived yet nearer and whose word was as good as the Bible. +It must be, he told himself finally, that M'sieu had sent for HIM +because he wanted to win over the father of Nepeese and gain the +friendship of Nepeese herself. For this was undoubtedly a very great +honor that the factor was conferring on him. + +And yet, deep down in his heart, he was filled with suspicion. When +DeBar was about to leave the next morning, Pierrot said: + +"Tell m'sieu that I will leave for Lac Bain the day after tomorrow." + +After DeBar had gone, he said to Nepeese: + +"And you shall remain here, ma cherie. I will not take you to Lac Bain. +I have had a dream that m'sieu will not go on a journey, but that he +has lied, and that he will be SICK when I arrive at the Post. And yet, +if it should happen that you care to go--" + +Nepeese straightened suddenly, like a reed that has been caught by the +wind. + +"Non!" she cried, so fiercely that Pierrot laughed, and rubbed his +hands. + +So it happened that on the second day after the fox hunter's visit +Pierrot left for Lac Bain, with Nepeese in the door waving him good-bye +until he was out of sight. + + +On the morning of this same day Bush McTaggart rose from his bed while +it was still dark. The time had come. He had hesitated at murder--at +the killing of Pierrot; and in his hesitation he had found a better +way. There could be no escape for Nepeese. + +It was a wonderful scheme, so easy of accomplishment, so inevitable in +its outcome. And all the time Pierrot would think he was away to the +east on a mission! + +He ate his breakfast before dawn, and was on the trail before it was +yet light. Purposely he struck due east, so that in coming up from the +south and west Pierrot would not strike his sledge tracks. For he had +made up his mind now that Pierrot must never know and must never have a +suspicion, even though it cost him so many more miles to travel that he +would not reach the Gray Loon until the second day. It was better to be +a day late, after all, as it was possible that something might have +delayed Pierrot. So he made no effort to travel fast. + +McTaggart took a vast amount of brutal satisfaction in anticipating +what was about to happen, and he reveled in it to the full. There was +no chance for disappointment. He was positive that Nepeese would not +accompany her father to Lac Bain. She would be at the cabin on the Gray +Loon--alone. + +This aloneness to Nepeese was burdened with no thought of danger. There +were times, now, when the thought of being alone was pleasant to her, +when she wanted to dream by herself, when she visioned things into the +mysteries of which she would not admit even Pierrot. She was growing +into womanhood--just the sweet, closed bud of womanhood as yet--still a +girl with the soft velvet of girlhood in her eyes, yet with the mystery +of woman stirring gently in her soul, as if the Great Hand were +hesitating between awakening her and letting her sleep a little longer. +At these times, when the opportunity came to steal hours by herself, +she would put on the red dress and do up her wonderful hair as she saw +it in the pictures of the magazines Pierrot had sent up twice a year +from Nelson House. + +On the second day of Pierrot's absence Nepeese dressed herself like +this, but today she let her hair cascade in a shining glory about her, +and about her forehead bound a circlet of red ribbon. She was not yet +done. Today she had marvelous designs. On the wall close to her mirror +she had tacked a large page from a woman's magazine, and on this page +was a lovely vision of curls. Fifteen hundred miles north of the sunny +California studio in which the picture had been taken, Nepeese, with +pouted red lips and puckered forehead, was struggling to master the +mystery of the other girl's curls! + +She was looking into her mirror, her face flushed and her eyes aglow in +the excitement of the struggle to fashion one of the coveted ringlets +from a tress that fell away below her hips, when the door opened behind +her, and Bush McTaggart walked in. + + + +CHAPTER 20 + +The Willow's back was toward the door when the factor from Lac Bain +entered the cabin, and for a few startled seconds she did not turn. Her +first thought was of Pierrot--for some reason he had returned. But even +as this thought came to her, she heard in Baree's throat a snarl that +brought her suddenly to her feet, facing the door. + +McTaggart had not entered unprepared. He had left his pack, his gun, +and his heavy coat outside. He was standing with his back against the +door; and at Nepeese--in her wonderful dress and flowing hair--he was +staring as if stunned for a space at what he saw. Fate, or accident, +was playing against the Willow now. If there had been a spark of +slumbering chivalry, of mercy, even, in Bush McTaggart's soul, it was +extinguished by what he saw. Never had Nepeese looked more beautiful, +not even on that day when MacDonald the map maker had taken her +picture. The sun, flooding through the window, lighted up her marvelous +hair. Her flushed face was framed in its lustrous darkness like a +tinted cameo. He had dreamed, but he had pictured nothing like this +woman who stood before him now, her eyes widening with fear and the +flush leaving her face even as he looked at her. + +It was not a long interval in which their eyes met in that terrible +silence. Words were unnecessary. At last she understood--understood +what her peril had been that day at the edge of the chasm and in the +forest, when fearlessly she had played with the menace that was +confronting her now. + +A breath that was like a sob broke from her lips. + +"M'sieu!" she tried to say. But it was only a gasp--an effort. + +Plainly she heard the click of the iron bolt as it locked the door. +McTaggart advanced a step. + +Only a single step McTaggart advanced. On the floor Baree had remained +like something carved out of stone. He had not moved. He had not made a +sound but that one warning snarl--until McTaggart took the step. And +then, like a flash, he was up and in front of Nepeese, every hair of +his body on end; and at the fury in his growl McTaggart lunged back +against the barred door. A word from Nepeese in that moment, and it +would have been over. But an instant was lost--an instant before her +cry came. In that moment man's hand and brain worked swifter than brute +understanding; and as Baree launched himself at the factor's throat, +there came a flash and a deafening explosion almost in the Willow's +eyes. + +It was a chance shot, a shot from the hip with McTaggart's automatic. +Baree fell short. He struck the floor with a thud and rolled against +the log wall. There was not a kick or a quiver left in his body. +McTaggart laughed nervously as he shoved his pistol back in its +holster. He knew that only a brain shot could have done that. + +With her back against the farther wall, Nepeese was waiting. McTaggart +could hear her panting breath. He advanced halfway to her. + +"Nepeese, I have come to make you my wife," he said. + +She did not answer. He could see that her breath was choking her. She +raised a hand to her throat. He took two more steps, and stopped. He +had never seen such eyes. + +"I have come to make you my wife, Nepeese. Tomorrow you will go on to +Nelson House with me, and then back to Lac Bain--forever." He added the +last word as an afterthought. "Forever," he repeated. + +He did not mince words. His courage and his determination rose as he +saw her body droop a little against the wall. She was powerless. There +was no escape. Pierrot was gone. Baree was dead. + +He had thought that no living creature could move as swiftly as the +Willow when his arms reached out for her. She made no sound as she +darted under one of his outstretched arms. He made a lunge, a savage +grab, and his fingers caught a bit of hair. He heard the snap of it as +she tore herself free and flew to the door. She had thrown back the +bolt when he caught her and his arms closed about her. He dragged her +back, and now she cried out--cried out in her despair for Pierrot, for +Baree, for some miracle of God that might save her. + +And Nepeese fought. She twisted in his arms until she was facing him. +She could no longer see. She was smothered in her own hair. It covered +her face and breast and body, suffocating her, entangling her hands and +arms--and still she fought. In the struggle McTaggart stumbled over the +body of Baree, and they went down. Nepeese was up fully five seconds +ahead of the man. She could have reached the door. But again it was her +hair. She paused to fling back the thick masses of it so that she could +see, and McTaggart was at the door ahead of her. + +He did not lock it again, but stood facing her. His face was scratched +and bleeding. He was no longer a man but a devil. Nepeese was broken, +panting--a low sobbing came with every breath. She bent down, and +picked up a piece of firewood. McTaggart could see that her strength +was almost gone. + +She clutched the stick as he approached her again. But McTaggart had +lost all thought of fear or caution. He sprang upon her like an animal. +The stick of firewood fell. And again fate played against the girl. In +her terror and hopelessness she had caught up the first stick her hand +had touched--a light one. With her last strength she hurled it at +McTaggart, and as it struck his head, he staggered back. But it did not +make him loose his hold. + +Vainly she was fighting now, not to strike him or to escape, but to get +her breath. She tried to cry out again, but this time no sound came +from between her gasping lips. + +Again he laughed, and as he laughed, he heard the door open. Was it the +wind? He turned, still holding her in his arms. + +In the open door stood Pierrot. + + + +CHAPTER 21 + +During that terrible interval which followed an eternity of time passed +slowly through the little cabin on the Gray Loon--that eternity which +lies somewhere between life and death and which is sometimes meted out +to a human life in seconds instead of years. + +In those seconds Pierrot did not move from where he stood in the +doorway. McTaggart, encumbered with the weight in his arms, and staring +at Pierrot, did not move. But the Willow's eyes were opening. And at +the same moment a convulsive quiver ran through the body of Baree, +where he lay near the wall. There was not the sound of a breath. And +then, in that silence, a great gasping sob came from Nepeese. + +Then Pierrot stirred to life. Like McTaggart, he had left his coat and +mittens outside. He spoke, and his voice was not like Pierrot's. It was +a strange voice. + +"The great God has sent me back in time, m'sieu," he said. "I, too, +traveled by way of the east, and saw your trail where it turned this +way." + +No, that was not like Pierrot's voice! A chill ran through McTaggart +now, and slowly he let go of Nepeese. She fell to the floor. Slowly he +straightened. + +"Is it not true, m'sieu?" said Pierrot again. "I have come in time?" + +What power was it--what great fear, perhaps, that made McTaggart nod +his head, that made his thick lips form huskily the words, "Yes--in +time." And yet it was not fear. It was something greater, something +more all-powerful than that. And Pierrot said, in that same strange +voice: + +"I thank the great God!" + +The eyes of madman met the eyes of madman now. Between them was death. +Both saw it. Both thought that they saw the direction in which its bony +finger pointed. Both were certain. McTaggart's hand did not go to the +pistol in his holster, and Pierrot did not touch the knife in his belt. +When they came together, it was throat to throat--two beasts now, +instead of one, for Pierrot had in him the fury and strength of the +wolf, the cat, and the panther. + +McTaggart was the bigger and heavier man, a giant in strength; yet in +the face of Pierrot's fury he lurched back over the table and went down +with a crash. Many times in his life he had fought, but he had never +felt a grip at his throat like the grip of Pierrot's hands. They almost +crushed the life from him at once. His neck snapped--a little more, and +it would have broken. He struck out blindly, and twisted himself to +throw off the weight of the half-breed's body. But Pierrot was fastened +there, as Sekoosew the ermine had fastened itself at the jugular of the +partridge, and Bush McTaggart's jaws slowly swung open, and his face +began to turn from red to purple. + +Cold air rushing through the door, Pierrot's voice and the sound of +battle roused Nepeese quickly to consciousness and the power to raise +herself from the floor. She had fallen near Baree, and as she lifted +her head, her eyes rested for a moment on the dog before they went to +the fighting men. Baree was alive! His body was twitching; his eyes +were open. He made an effort to raise his head as she was looking at +him. + +Then she dragged herself to her knees and turned to the men, and +Pierrot, even in the blood-red fury of his desire to kill, must have +heard the sharp cry of joy that came from her when she saw that it was +the factor from Lac Bain who was underneath. With a tremendous effort +she staggered to her feet, and for a few moments she stood swaying +unsteadily as her brain and her body readjusted themselves. Even as she +looked down upon the blackening face from which Pierrot's fingers were +choking the life, Bush McTaggart's hand was groping blindly for his +pistol. He found it. Unseen by Pierrot, he dragged it from its holster. +It was one of the black devils of chance that favored him again, for in +his excitement he had not snapped the safety shut after shooting Baree. +Now he had only strength left to pull the trigger. Twice his forefinger +closed. Twice there came deadened explosion close to Pierrot's body. + +In Pierrot's face Nepeese saw what had happened. Her heart died in her +breast as she looked upon the swift and terrible change wrought by +sudden death. Slowly Pierrot straightened. His eyes were wide for a +moment--wide and staring. He made no sound. She could not see his lips +move. And then he fell toward her, so that McTaggart's body was free. +Blindly and with an agony that gave no evidence in cry or word she +flung herself down beside her father. He was dead. + +How long Nepeese lay there, how long she waited for Pierrot to move, to +open his eyes, to breathe, she would never know. In that time McTaggart +rose to his feet and stood leaning against the wall, the pistol in his +hand, his brain clearing itself as he saw his final triumph. His work +did not frighten him. Even in that tragic moment as he stood against +the wall, his defense--if it ever came to a defense--framed itself in +his mind. Pierrot had murderously assaulted him--without cause. In +self-defense he had killed him. Was he not the Factor of Lac Bain? +Would not the company and the law believe his word before that of this +girl? His brain leaped with the old exultation. It would never come to +that--to a betrayal of this struggle and death in the cabin--after he +had finished with her! She would not be known for all time as La Bete +Noir. No, they would bury Pierrot, and she would return to Lac Bain +with him. If she had been helpless before, she was ten times more +helpless now. She would never tell of what had happened in the cabin. + +He forgot the presence of death as he looked at her, bowed over her +father so that her hair covered him like a silken-shroud. He replaced +the pistol in its holster and drew a deep breath into his lungs. He was +still a little unsteady on his feet, but his face was again the face of +a devil. He took a step, and it was then there came a sound to rouse +the girl. In the shadow of the farther wall Baree had struggled to his +haunches, and now he growled. + +Slowly Nepeese lifted her head. A power which she could not resist drew +her eyes up until she was looking into the face of Bush McTaggart. She +had almost lost consciousness of his presence. Her senses were cold and +deadened--it was as if her own heart had stopped beating along with +Pierrot's. What she saw in the factor's face dragged her out of the +numbness of her grief back into the shadow of her own peril. He was +standing over her. In his face there was no pity, nothing of horror at +what he had done--only an insane exultation as he looked--not at +Pierrot's dead body, but at her. He put out a hand, and it rested on +her head. She felt his thick fingers crumpling her hair, and his eyes +blazed like embers of fire behind watery films. She struggled to rise, +but with his hands at her hair he held her down. + +"Great God!" she breathed. + +She uttered no other words, no plea for mercy, no other sound but a +dry, hopeless sob. In that moment neither of them heard or saw Baree. +Twice in crossing the cabin his hindquarters had sagged to the floor. +Now he was close to McTaggart. He wanted to give a single lunge to the +man-brute's back and snap his thick neck as he would have broken a +caribou bone. But he had no strength. He was still partially paralyzed +from his foreshoulder back. But his jaws were like iron, and they +closed savagely on McTaggart's leg. + +With a yell of pain the factor released his hold on the Willow, and she +staggered to her feet. For a precious half-minute she was free, and as +the factor kicked and struck to loose Baree's hold, she ran to the +cabin door and out into the day. The cold air struck her face. It +filled her lungs with new strength; and without thought of where hope +might lie she ran through the snow into the forest. + +McTaggart appeared at the door just in time to see her disappear. His +leg was torn where Baree had fastened his fangs, but he felt no pain as +he ran in pursuit of the girl. She could not go far. An exultant cry, +inhuman as the cry of a beast, came in a great breath from his gaping +mouth as he saw that she was staggering weakly as she fled. He was +halfway to the edge of the forest when Baree dragged himself over the +threshold. His jaws were bleeding where McTaggart had kicked him again +and again before his fangs gave way. Halfway between his ears was a +seared spot, as if a red-hot poker had been laid there for an instant. +This was where McTaggart's bullet had gone. A quarter of an inch +deeper, and it would have meant death. As it was, it had been like the +blow of a heavy club, paralyzing his senses and sending him limp and +unconscious against the wall. He could move on his feet now without +falling, and slowly he followed in the tracks of the man and the girl. + +As she ran, Nepeese's mind became all at once clear and reasoning. She +turned into the narrow trail over which McTaggart had followed her once +before, but just before reaching the chasm, she swung sharply to the +right. She could see McTaggart. He was not running fast, but was +gaining steadily, as if enjoying the sight of her helplessness, as he +had enjoyed it in another way on that other day. Two hundred yards +below the deep pool into which she had pushed the factor--just beyond +the shallows out of which he had dragged himself to safety--was the +beginning of Blue Feather's Gorge. An appalling thing was shaping +itself in her mind as she ran to it--a thing that with each gasping +breath she drew became more and more a great and glorious hope. At last +she reached it and looked down. And as she looked, there whispered up +out of her soul and trembled on her lips the swan song of her mother's +people. + +Our fathers--come! Come from out of the valley. Guide us--for today we +die, And the winds whisper of death! + +She had raised her arms. Against the white wilderness beyond the chasm +she stood tall and slim. Fifty yards behind her the factor from Lac +Bain stopped suddenly in his tracks. "Ah," he mumbled. "Is she not +wonderful!" And behind McTaggart, coming faster and faster, was Baree. + +Again the Willow looked down. She was at the edge, for she had no fear +in this hour. Many times she had clung to Pierrot's hand as she looked +over. Down there no one could fall and live. Fifty feet below her the +water which never froze was smashing itself into froth among the rocks. +It was deep and black and terrible, for between the narrow rock walls +the sun did not reach it. The roar of it filled the Willow's ears. + +She turned and faced McTaggart. + +Even then he did not guess, but came toward her again, his arms +stretched out ahead of him. Fifty yards! It was not much, and +shortening swiftly. + +Once more the Willow's lips moved. After all, it is the mother soul +that gives us faith to meet eternity--and it was to the spirit of her +mother that the Willow called in the hour of death. With the call on +her lips she plunged into the abyss, her wind-whipped hair clinging to +her in a glistening shroud. + + + +CHAPTER 22 + +A moment later the factor from Lac Bain stood at the edge of the chasm. +His voice had called out in a hoarse bellow--a wild cry of disbelief +and horror that had formed the Willow's name as she disappeared. He +looked down, clutching his huge red hands and staring in ghastly +suspense at the boiling water and black rocks far below. There was +nothing there now--no sign of her, no last flash of her pale face and +streaming hair in the white foam. And she had done THAT--to save +herself from him! + +The soul of the man-beast turned sick within him, so sick that he +staggered back, his vision blinded and his legs tottering under him. He +had killed Pierrot, and it had been a triumph. All his life he had +played the part of the brute with a stoicism and cruelty that had known +no shock--nothing like this that overwhelmed him now, numbing him to +the marrow of his bones until he stood like one paralyzed. He did not +see Baree. He did not hear the dog's whining cries at the edge of the +chasm. For a few moments the world turned black for him. And then, +dragging himself out of his stupor, he ran frantically along the edge +of the gorge, looking down wherever his eyes could see the water, +striving for a glimpse of her. At last it grew too deep. There was no +hope. She was gone--and she had faced that to escape him! + +He mumbled that fact over and over again, stupidly, thickly, as though +his brain could grasp nothing beyond it. She was dead. And Pierrot was +dead. And he, in a few minutes, had accomplished it all. + +He turned back toward the cabin--not by the trail over which he had +pursued Nepeese, but straight through the thick bush. Great flakes of +snow had begun to fall. He looked at the sky, where banks of dark +clouds were rolling up from the south and east. The sun disappeared. +Soon there would be a storm--a heavy snowstorm. The big flakes falling +on his naked hands and face set his mind to work. It was lucky for him, +this storm. It would cover everything--the fresh trails, even the grave +he would dig for Pierrot. + +It does not take such a man as the factor long to recover from a moral +concussion. By the time he came in sight of the cabin his mind was +again at work on physical things--on the necessities of the situation. +The appalling thing, after all, was not that both Pierrot and Nepeese +were dead, but that his dream was shattered. It was not that Nepeese +was dead, but that he had lost her. This was his vital disappointment. +The other thing--his crime--it was easy to destroy all traces of that. + +It was not sentiment that made him dig Pierrot's grave close to the +princess mother's under the tall spruce. It was not sentiment that made +him dig the grave at all, but caution. He buried Pierrot decently. Then +he poured Pierrot's stock of kerosene where it would be most effective +and touched a match to it. He stood in the edge of the forest until the +cabin was a mass of flames. The snow was falling thickly. The freshly +made grave was a white mound, and the trails were filling up with new +snow. For the physical things he had done there was no fear in Bush +McTaggart's heart as he turned back toward Lac Bain. No one would ever +look into the grave of Pierrot Du Quesne. And there was no one to +betray him if such a miracle happened. But of one thing his black soul +would never be able to free itself. Always he would see the pale, +triumphant face of the Willow as she stood facing him in that moment of +her glory when, even as she was choosing death rather than him, he had +cried to himself: "Ah! Is she not wonderful!" + +As Bush McTaggart had forgotten Baree, so Baree had forgotten the +factor from Lac Bain. When McTaggart had run along the edge of the +chasm, Baree had squatted himself in the trodden plot of snow where +Nepeese had last stood, his body stiffened and his forefeet braced as +he looked down. He had seen her take the leap. Many times that summer +he had followed her in her daring dives into the deep, quiet water of +the pool. But this was a tremendous distance. She had never dived into +a place like that before. He could see the black shapes of the rocks, +appearing and disappearing in the whirling foam like the heads of +monsters at play. The roar of the water filled him with dread. His eyes +caught the swift rush of crumbled ice between the rock walls. And she +had gone down there! + +He had a great desire to follow her, to jump in, as he had always +jumped in after her in previous times. She was surely down there, even +though he could not see her. Probably she was playing among the rocks +and hiding herself in the white froth and wondering why he didn't come. +But he hesitated--hesitated with his head and neck over the abyss, and +his forefeet giving way a little in the snow. With an effort he dragged +himself back and whined. He caught the fresh scent of McTaggart's +moccasins in the snow, and the whine changed slowly into a long snarl. +He looked over again. Still he could not see her. He barked--the short, +sharp signal with which he always called her. There was no answer. +Again and again he barked, and always there was nothing but the roar of +the water that came back to him. Then for a few moments he stood back, +silent and listening, his body shivering with the strange dread that +was possessing him. + +The snow was falling now, and McTaggart had returned to the cabin. +After a little Baree followed in the trail he had made along the edge +of the chasm, and wherever McTaggart had stopped to peer over, Baree +paused also. For a space his hatred of the man was lost in his desire +to join the Willow, and he continued along the gorge until, a quarter +of a mile beyond where the factor had last looked into it, he came to +the narrow trail down which he and Nepeese had many time adventured in +quest of rock violets. The twisting path that led down the face of the +cliff was filled with snow now, but Baree made his way through it until +at last he stood at the edge of the unfrozen torrent. Nepeese was not +here. He whined, and barked again, but this time there was in his +signal to her an uneasy repression, a whimpering note which told that +he did not expect a reply. For five minutes after that he sat on his +haunches in the snow, stolid as a rock. What it was that came down out +of the dark mystery and tumult of the chasm to him, what spirit +whispers of nature that told him the truth, it is beyond the power of +reason to explain. But he listened, and he looked; and his muscles +twitched as the truth grew in him. And at last he raised his head +slowly until his black muzzle pointed to the white storm in the sky, +and out of his throat there went forth the quavering, long-drawn howl +of the husky who mourns outside the tepee of a master who is newly dead. + +On the trail, heading for Lac Bain, Bush McTaggart heard that cry and +shivered. + +It was the smell of smoke, thickening in the air until it stung his +nostrils, that drew Baree at last away from the chasm and back to the +cabin. There was not much left when he came to the clearing. Where the +cabin had been was a red-hot, smoldering mass. For a long time he sat +watching it, still waiting and still listening. He no longer felt the +effect of the bullet that had stunned him, but his senses were +undergoing another change now, as strange and unreal as their struggle +against that darkness of near death in the cabin. In a space that had +not covered more than an hour the world had twisted itself grotesquely +for Baree. That long ago the Willow was sitting before her little +mirror in the cabin, talking to him and laughing in her happiness, +while he lay in vast contentment on the floor. And now there was no +cabin, no Nepeese, no Pierrot. Quietly he struggled to comprehend. It +was some time before he moved from under the thick balsams, for already +a deep and growing suspicion began to guide his movements. He did not +go nearer to the smoldering mass of the cabin, but slinking low, made +his way about the circle of the clearing to the dog corral. This took +him under the tall spruce. For a full minute he paused here, sniffing +at the freshly made mound under its white mantle of snow. When he went +on, he slunk still lower, and his ears were flat against his head. + +The dog corral was open and empty. McTaggart had seen to that. Again +Baree squatted back on his haunches and sent forth the death howl. This +time it was for Pierrot. In it there was a different note from that of +the howl he had sent forth from the chasm: it was positive, certain. In +the chasm his cry had been tempered with doubt--a questioning hope, +something that was so almost human that McTaggart had shivered on the +trail. But Baree knew what lay in that freshly dug snow-covered grave. +A scant three feet of earth could not hide its secret from him. There +was death--definite and unequivocal. But for Nepeese he was still +hoping and seeking. + +Until noon he did not go far from the site of the cabin, but only once +did he actually approach and sniff about the black pile of steaming +timbers. Again and again he circled the edge of the clearing, keeping +just within the bush and timber, sniffing the air and listening. Twice +he went hack to the chasm. Late in the afternoon there came to him a +sudden impulse that carried him swiftly through the forest. He did not +run openly now. Caution, suspicion, and fear had roused in him afresh +the instincts of the wolf. With his ears flattened against the side of +his head, his tail drooping until the tip of it dragged the snow and +his back sagging in the curious, evasive gait of the wolf, he scarcely +made himself distinguishable from the shadows of the spruce and balsams. + +There was no faltering in the trail Baree made; it was straight as a +rope might have been drawn through the forest, and it brought him, +early in the dusk, to the open spot where Nepeese had fled with him +that day she had pushed McTaggart over the edge of the precipice into +the pool. In the place of the balsam shelter of that day there was now +a watertight birchbark tepee which Pierrot had helped the Willow to +make during the summer. Baree went straight to it and thrust in his +head with a low and expectant whine. + +There was no answer. It was dark and cold in the tepee. He could make +out indistinctly the two blankets that were always in it, the row of +big tin boxes in which Nepeese kept their stores, and the stove which +Pierrot had improvised out of scraps of iron and heavy tin. But Nepeese +was not there. And there was no sign of her outside. The snow was +unbroken except by his own trail. It was dark when he returned to the +burned cabin. All that night he hung about the deserted dog corral, and +all through the night the snow fell steadily, so that by dawn he sank +into it to his shoulders when he moved out into the clearing. + +But with day the sky had cleared. The sun came up, and the world was +almost too dazzling for the eyes. It warmed Baree's blood with new hope +and expectation. His brain struggled even more eagerly than yesterday +to comprehend. Surely the Willow would be returning soon! He would hear +her voice. She would appear suddenly out of the forest. He would +receive some signal from her. One of these things, or all of them, must +happen. He stopped sharply in his tracks at every sound, and sniffed +the air from every point of the wind. He was traveling ceaselessly. His +body made deep trails in the snow around and over the huge white mound +where the cabin had stood. His tracks led from the corral to the tall +spruce, and they were as numerous as the footprints of a wolf pack for +half a mile up and down the chasm. + +On the afternoon of this day the second strong impulse came to him. It +was not reason, and neither was it instinct alone. It was the struggle +halfway between, the brute mind righting at its best with the mystery +of an intangible thing--something that could not be seen by the eye or +heard by the ear. Nepeese was not in the cabin, because there was no +cabin. She was not at the tepee. He could find no trace of her in the +chasm. She was not with Pierrot under the big spruce. + +Therefore, unreasoning but sure, he began to follow the old trap line +into the north and west. + + + +CHAPTER 23 + +No man has ever looked clearly into the mystery of death as it is +impressed upon the senses of the northern dog. It comes to him, +sometimes, with the wind. Most frequently it must come with the wind, +and yet there are ten thousand masters in the northland who will swear +that their dogs have given warning of death hours before it actually +came; and there are many of these thousands who know from experience +that their teams will stop a quarter or half a mile from a strange +cabin in which there lies unburied dead. + +Yesterday Baree had smelled death, and he knew without process of +reasoning that the dead was Pierrot. How he knew this, and why he +accepted the fact as inevitable, is one of the mysteries which at times +seems to give the direct challenge to those who concede nothing more +than instinct to the brute mind. He knew that Pierrot was dead without +exactly knowing what death was. But of one thing he was sure: he would +never see Pierrot again. He would never hear his voice again; he would +never hear again the swish-swish-swish of his snowshoes in the trail +ahead, and so on the trap line he did not look for Pierrot. Pierrot was +gone forever. But Baree had not yet associated death with Nepeese. He +was filled with a great uneasiness. What came to him from out of the +chasm had made him tremble with fear and suspense. He sensed the thrill +of something strange, of something impending, and yet even as he had +given the death howl in the chasm, it must have been for Pierrot. For +he believed that Nepeese was alive, and he was now just as sure that he +would overtake her on the trap line as he was positive yesterday that +he would find her at the birchbark tepee. + +Since yesterday morning's breakfast with the Willow, Baree had gone +without eating. To appease his hunger meant to hunt, and his mind was +too filled with his quest of Nepeese for that. He would have gone +hungry all that day, but in the third mile from the cabin he came to a +trap in which there was a big snowshoe rabbit. The rabbit was still +alive, and he killed it and ate his fill. Until dark he did not miss a +trap. In one of them there was a lynx; in another a fishercat. Out on +the white surface of a lake he sniffed at a snowy mound under which lay +the body of a red fox killed by one of Pierrot's poison baits. Both the +lynx and the fishercat were alive, and the steel chains of their traps +clanked sharply as they prepared to give Baree battle. But Baree was +uninterested. He hurried on, his uneasiness growing as the day darkened +and he found no sign of the Willow. + +It was a wonderfully clear night after the storm--cold and brilliant, +with the shadows standing out as clearly as living things. The third +suggestion came to Baree now. He was, like all animals, largely of one +idea at a time--a creature with whom all lesser impulses were governed +by a single leading impulse. And this impulse, in the glow of the +starlit night, was to reach as quickly as possible the first of +Pierrot's two cabins on the trap line. There he would find Nepeese! + +We won't call the process by which Baree came to this conclusion a +process of reasoning. Instinct or reasoning, whatever it was, a fixed +and positive faith came to Baree just the same. He began to miss the +traps in his haste to cover distance--to reach the cabin. It was +twenty-five miles from Pierrot's burned home to the first trap cabin, +and Baree had made ten of these by nightfall. The remaining fifteen +were the most difficult. In the open spaces the snow was belly-deep and +soft. Frequently he plunged through drifts in which for a few moments +he was buried. Three times during the early part of the night Baree +heard the savage dirge of the wolves. Once it was a wild paean of +triumph as the hunters pulled down their kill less than half a mile +away in the deep forest. But the voice no longer called to him. It was +repellent--a voice of hatred and of treachery. Each time that he heard +it he stopped in his tracks and snarled, while his spine stiffened. + +At midnight Baree came to the tiny amphitheater in the forest where +Pierrot had cut the logs for the first of his trapline cabins. For at +least a minute Baree stood at the edge of the clearing, his ears very +alert, his eyes bright with hope and expectation, while he sniffed the +air. There was no smoke, no sound, no light in the one window of the +log shack. His disappointment fell on him even as he stood there. Again +he sensed the fact of his aloneness, of the barrenness of his quest. +There was a disheartened slouch to his door. He had traveled +twenty-five miles, and he was tired. + +The snow was drifted deep at the doorway, and here Baree sat down and +whined. It was no longer the anxious, questing whine of a few hours +ago. Now it voiced hopelessness and a deep despair. For half an hour he +sat shivering with his back to the door and his face to the starlit +wilderness, as if there still remained the fleeting hope that Nepeese +might follow after him over the trail. Then he burrowed himself a hole +deep in the snowdrift and passed the remainder of the night in uneasy +slumber. + +With the first light of day Baree resumed the trail. He was not so +alert this morning. There was the disconsolate droop to his tail which +the Indians call the Akoosewin--the sign of the sick dog. And Baree was +sick--not of body but of soul. The keenness of his hope had died, and +he no longer expected to find the Willow. The second cabin at the far +end of the trap line drew him on, but it inspired in him none of the +enthusiasm with which he had hurried to the first. He traveled slowly +and spasmodically, his suspicions of the forests again replacing the +excitement of his quest. He approached each of Pierrot's traps and the +deadfalls cautiously, and twice he showed his fangs--once at a marten +that snapped at him from under a root where it had dragged the trap in +which it was caught, and the second time at a big snowy owl that had +come to steal bait and was now a prisoner at the end of a steel chain. +It may be that Baree thought it was Oohoomisew and that he still +remembered vividly the treacherous assault and fierce battle of that +night when, as a puppy, he was dragging his sore and wounded body +through the mystery and fear of the big timber. For he did more than to +show his fangs. He tore the owl into pieces. + +There were plenty of rabbits in Pierrot's traps, and Baree did not go +hungry. He reached the second trap-line cabin late in the afternoon, +after ten hours of traveling. He met with no very great disappointment +here, for he had not anticipated very much. The snow had banked this +cabin even higher than the other. It lay three feet deep against the +door, and the window was white with a thick coating of frost. At this +place, which was close to the edge of a big barren, and unsheltered by +the thick forests farther back, Pierrot had built a shelter for his +firewood, and in this shelter Baree made his temporary home. All the +next day he remained somewhere near the end of the trap line, skirting +the edge of the barren and investigating the short side line of a dozen +traps which Pierrot and Nepeese had strung through a swamp in which +there had been many signs of lynx. It was the third day before he set +out on his return to the Gray Loon. + +He did not travel very fast, spending two days in covering the +twenty-five miles between the first and the second trap-line cabins. At +the second cabin he remained for three days, and it was on the ninth +day that he reached the Gray Loon. There was no change. There were no +tracks in the snow but his own, made nine days ago. + +Baree's quest for Nepeese became now more or less involuntary, a sort +of daily routine. For a week he made his burrow in the dog corral, and +at least twice between dawn and darkness he would go to the birchbark +tepee and the chasm. His trail, soon beaten hard in the snow, became as +fixed as Pierrot's trap line. It cut straight through the forest to the +tepee, swinging slightly to the east so that it crossed the frozen +surface of the Willow's swimming pool. From the tepee it swung in a +circle through a part of the forest where Nepeese had frequently +gathered armfuls of crimson fireflowers, and then to the chasm. Up and +down the edge of the gorge it went, down into the little cup at the +bottom of the chasm, and thence straight back to the dog corral. + +And then, of a sudden, Baree made a change. He spent a night in the +tepee. After that, whenever he was at the Gray Loon, during the day he +always slept in the tepee. The two blankets were his bed--and they were +a part of Nepeese. And there, all through the long winter, he waited. + +If Nepeese had returned in February and could have taken him unaware, +she would have found a changed Baree. He was more than ever like a +wolf; yet he never gave the wolf howl now, and always he snarled deep +in his throat when he heard the cry of the pack. For several weeks the +old trap line had supplied him with meat, but now he hunted. The tepee, +in and out, was scattered with fur and bones. Once--alone--he caught a +young deer in deep snow and killed it. Again, in the heart of a fierce +February storm, he pursued a bull caribou so closely that it plunged +over a cliff and broke its neck. He lived well, and in size and +strength he was growing swiftly into a giant of his kind. In another +six months he would be as large as Kazan, and his jaws were almost as +powerful, even now. + +Three times that winter Baree fought--once with a lynx that sprang down +upon him from a windfall while he was eating a freshly killed rabbit, +and twice with two lone wolves. The lynx tore him unmercifully before +it fled into the windfall. The younger of the wolves he killed; the +other fight was a draw. More and more he became an outcast, living +alone with his dreams and his smoldering hopes. + +And Baree did dream. Many times, as he lay in the tepee, he would hear +the voice of Nepeese. He would hear her sweet voice calling, her +laughter, the sound of his name, and often he would start up to his +feet--the old Baree for a thrilling moment or two--only to lie down in +his nest again with a low, grief-filled whine. And always when he heard +the snap of a twig or some other sound in the forest, it was thought of +Nepeese that flashed first into his brain. Some day she would return. +That belief was a part of his existence as much as the sun and the moon +and the stars. + +The winter passed, and spring came, and still Baree continued to haunt +his old trails, even going now and then over the old trap line as far +as the first of the two cabins. The traps were rusted and sprung now; +the thawing snow disclosed bones and feathers between their jaws. Under +the deadfalls were remnants of fur, and out on the ice of the lakes +were picked skeletons of foxes and wolves that had taken the poison +baits. The last snow went. The swollen streams sang in the forests and +canyons. The grass turned green, and the first flowers came. + +Surely this was the time for Nepeese to come home! He watched for her +expectantly. He went still more frequently to their swimming pool in +the forest, and he hung closely to the burned cabin and the dog corral. +Twice he sprang into the pool and whined as he swam about, as though +she surely must join him in their old water frolic. And now, as the +spring passed and summer came, there settled upon him slowly the gloom +and misery of utter hopelessness. The flowers were all out now, and +even the bakneesh vines glowed like red fire in the woods. Patches of +green were beginning to hide the charred heap where the cabin had +stood, and the blue-flower vines that covered the princess mother's +grave were reaching out toward Pierrot's, as if the princess mother +herself were the spirit of them. + +All these things were happening, and the birds had mated and nested, +and still Nepeese did not come! And at last something broke inside of +Baree, his last hope, perhaps, his last dream; and one day he bade +good-bye to the Gray Loon. + +No one can say what it cost him to go. No one can say how he fought +against the things that were holding him to the tepee, the old swimming +pool, the familiar paths in the forest, and the two graves that were +not so lonely now under the tall spruce. He went. He had no +reason--simply went. It may be that there is a Master whose hand guides +the beast as well as the man, and that we know just enough of this +guidance to call it instinct. For, in dragging himself away, Baree +faced the Great Adventure. + +It was there, in the north, waiting for him--and into the north he went. + + + +CHAPTER 24 + +It was early in August when Baree left the Gray Loon. He had no +objective in view. But there was still left upon his mind, like the +delicate impression of light and shadow on a negative, the memories of +his earlier days. Things and happenings that he had almost forgotten +recurred to him now, as his trail led him farther and farther away from +the Gray Loon. And his earlier experiences became real again, pictures +thrown out afresh in his mind by the breaking of the last ties that +held him to the home of the Willow. Involuntarily he followed the trail +of these impressions--of these past happenings, and slowly they helped +to build up new interests for him. + +A year in his life was a long time--a decade of man's experience. It +was more than a year ago that he had left Kazan and Gray Wolf and the +old windfall, and yet now there came back to him indistinct memories of +those days of his earliest puppyhood, of the stream into which he had +fallen, and of his fierce battle with Papayuchisew. It was his later +experiences that roused the older memories. He came to the blind canyon +up which Nepeese and Pierrot had chased him. That seemed but yesterday. +He entered the little meadow, and stood beside the great rock that had +almost crushed the life out of the Willow's body; and then he +remembered where Wakayoo, his big bear friend, had died under Pierrot's +rifle--and he smelled of Wakayoo's whitened bones where they lay +scattered in the green grass, with flowers growing up among them. + +A day and night he spent in the little meadow before he went back out +of the canyon and into his old haunts along the creek, where Wakayoo +had fished for him. There was another bear here now, and he also was +fishing. Perhaps he was a son or a grandson of Wakayoo. Baree smelled +where he had made his fish caches, and for three days he lived on fish +before he struck out for the North. + +And now, for the first time in many weeks, a bit of the old-time +eagerness put speed into Baree's feet. Memories that had been hazy and +indistinct through forgetfulness were becoming realities again, and as +he would have returned to the Gray Loon had Nepeese been there so now, +with something of the feeling of a wanderer going home, he returned to +the old beaver pond. + +It was that most glorious hour of a summer's day--sunset--when he +reached it. He stopped a hundred yards away, with the pond still hidden +from his sight, and sniffed the air, and listened. The POND was there. +He caught the cool, honey smell of it. But Umisk, and Beaver Tooth, and +all the others? Would he find them? He strained his ears to catch a +familiar sound, and after a moment or two it came--a hollow splash in +the water. + +He went quietly through the alders and stood at last close to the spot +where he had first made the acquaintance of Umisk. The surface of the +pond was undulating slightly, two or three heads popped up. He saw the +torpedolike wake of an old beaver towing a stick close to the opposite +shore. He looked toward the dam, and it was as he had left it almost a +year ago. He did not show himself for a time, but stood concealed in +the young alders. He felt growing in him more and more a feeling of +restfulness, a relaxation from the long strain of the lonely months +during which he had waited for Nepeese. + +With a long breath he lay down among the alders, with his head just +enough exposed to give him a clear view. As the sun settled lower the +pond became alive. Out on the shore where he had saved Umisk from the +fox came another generation of young beavers--three of them, fat and +waddling. Very softly Baree whined. + +All that night he lay in the alders. The beaver pond became his home +again. Conditions were changed, of course, and as days grew into weeks +the inhabitants of Beaver Tooth's colony showed no signs of accepting +the grown-up Baree as they had accepted the baby Baree of long ago. He +was big, black, and wolfish now--a long-fanged and formidable-looking +creature, and though he offered no violence he was regarded by the +beavers with a deep-seated feeling of fear and suspicion. + +On the other hand, Baree no longer felt the old puppyish desire to play +with the baby beavers, so their aloofness did not trouble him as in +those other days. Umisk was grown up, too, a fat and prosperous young +buck who was just taking unto himself this year a wife, and who was at +present very busy gathering his winter's rations. It is entirely +probable that he did not associate the big black beast he saw now and +then with the little Baree with whom he had smelled noses once upon a +time, and it is quite likely that Baree did not recognize Umisk except +as a part of the memories that had remained with him. + +All through the month of August Baree made the beaver pond his +headquarters. At times his excursions kept him away for two or three +days at a time. These journeys were always into the north, sometimes a +little east and sometimes a little west, but never again into the +south. And at last, early in September, he left the beaver pond for +good. + +For many days his wanderings carried him in no one particular +direction. He followed the hunting, living chiefly on rabbits and that +simple-minded species of partridge known as the "fool hen." This diet, +of course, was given variety by other things as they happened to come +his way. Wild currants and raspberries were ripening, and Baree was +fond of these. He also liked the bitter berries of the mountain ash, +which, along with the soft balsam and spruce pitch which he licked with +his tongue now and then, were good medicine for him. In shallow water +he occasionally caught a fish. Now and then he hazarded a cautious +battle with a porcupine, and if he was successful he feasted on the +tenderest and most luscious of all the flesh that made up his menu. + +Twice in September he killed young deer. The big "burns" that he +occasionally came to no longer held terrors for him; in the midst of +plenty he forgot the days in which he had gone hungry. In October he +wandered as far west as the Geikie River, and then northward to +Wollaston Lake, which was a good hundred miles north of the Gray Loon. +The first week in November he turned south again, following the Canoe +River for a distance, and then swinging westward along a twisting creek +called The Little Black Bear with No Tail. + +More than once during these weeks Baree came into touch with man, but, +with the exception of the Cree hunter at the upper end of Wollaston +Lake, no man had seen him. Three times in following the Geikie he lay +crouched in the brush while canoes passed. Half a dozen times, in the +stillness of night, he nosed about cabins and tepees in which there was +life, and once he came so near to the Hudson's Bay Company post at +Wollaston that he could hear the barking of dogs and the shouting of +their masters. + +And always he was seeking--questing for the thing that had gone out of +his life. At the thresholds of the cabins he sniffed; outside of the +tepees he circled close, gathering the wind. The canoes he watched with +eyes in which there was a hopeful gleam. Once he thought the wind +brought him the scent of Nepeese, and all at once his legs grew weak +under his body and his heart seemed to stop beating. It was only for a +moment or two. She came out of the tepee--an Indian girl with her hands +full of willow work--and Baree slunk away unseen. + +It was almost December when Lerue, a half-breed from Lac Bain, saw +Baree's footprints in freshly fallen snow, and a little later caught a +flash of him in the bush. + +"Mon Dieu, I tell you his feet are as big as my hand, and he is as +black as a raven's wing with the sun on it!" he exclaimed in the +company's store at Lac Bain. "A fox? Non! He is half as big as a bear. +A wolf--oui! And black as the devil, m'sieus." + +McTaggart was one of those who heard. He was putting his signature in +ink to a letter he had written to the company when Lerue's words came +to him. His hand stopped so suddenly that a drop of ink spattered on +the letter. Through him there ran a curious shiver as he looked over at +the half-breed. Just then Marie came in. McTaggart had brought her back +from her tribe. Her big, dark eyes had a sick look in them, and some of +her wild beauty had gone since a year ago. + +"He was gone like--that!" Lerue was saying, with a snap of his fingers. +He saw Marie, and stopped. + +"Black, you say?" McTaggart said carelessly, without lifting his eyes +from his writing. "Did he not bear some dog mark?" + +Lerue shrugged his shoulders. + +"He was gone like the wind, m'sieu. But he was a wolf." + +With scarcely a sound that the others could hear Marie had whispered +into the factor's ear, and folding his letter McTaggart rose quickly +and left the store. He was gone an hour. Lerue and the others were +puzzled. It was not often that Marie came into the store. It was not +often that they saw her at all. She remained hidden in the factor's log +house, and each time that he saw her Lerue thought that her face was a +little thinner than the last, and her eyes bigger and hungrier looking. +In his own heart there was a great yearning. + +Many a night he passed the little window beyond which he knew that she +was sleeping. Often he looked to catch a glimpse of her pale face, and +he lived in the one happiness of knowing that Marie understood, and +that into her eyes there came for an instant a different light when +their glances met. No one else knew. The secret lay between them--and +patiently Lerue waited and watched. "Some day," he kept saying to +himself--"Some day"--and that was all. The one word carried a world of +meaning and of hope. When that day came he would take Marie straight to +the missioner over at Fort Churchill, and they would be married. It was +a dream--a dream that made the long days and the longer nights on the +trap line patiently endured. Now they were both slaves to the +environing Power. But--some day-- + +Lerue was thinking of this when McTaggart returned at the end of the +hour. The factor came straight up to where the half dozen of them were +seated about the big box stove, and with a grunt of satisfaction shook +the freshly fallen snow from his shoulders. + +"Pierre Eustach has accepted the Government's offer and is going to +guide that map-making party up into the Barrens this winter," he +announced. "You know, Lerue--he has a hundred and fifty traps and +deadfalls set, and a big poison-bait country. A good line, eh? And I +have leased it of him for the season. It will give me the outdoor work +I need--three days on the trail, three days here. Eh, what do you say +to the bargain?" + +"It is good," said Lerue. + +"Yes, it is good," said Roget. + +"A wide fox country," said Mons Roule. + +"And easy to travel," murmured Valence in a voice that was almost like +a woman's. + + + +CHAPTER 25 + +The trap line of Pierre Eustach ran thirty miles straight west of Lac +Bain. It was not as long a line as Pierrot's had been, but it was like +a main artery running through the heart of a rich fur country. It had +belonged to Pierre Eustach's father, and his grandfather, and his +great-grandfather, and beyond that it reached, Pierre averred, back to +the very pulse of the finest blood in France. The books at McTaggart's +Post went back only as far as the great-grandfather end of it, the +older evidence of ownership being at Churchill. It was the finest game +country between Reindeer Lake and the Barren Lands. It was in December +that Baree came to it. + +Again he was traveling southward in a slow and wandering fashion, +seeking food in the deep snows. The Kistisew Kestin, or Great Storm, +had come earlier than usual this winter, and for a week after it +scarcely a hoof or claw was moving. Baree, unlike the other creatures, +did not bury himself in the snow and wait for the skies to clear and +crust to form. He was big, and powerful, and restless. Less than two +years old, he weighed a good eighty pounds. His pads were broad and +wolfish. His chest and shoulders were like a Malemute's, heavy and yet +muscled for speed. He was wider between the eyes than the wolf-breed +husky, and his eyes were larger, and entirely clear of the Wuttooi, or +blood film, that marks the wolf and also to an extent the husky. His +jaws were like Kazan's, perhaps even more powerful. + +Through all that week of the Big Storm he traveled without food. There +were four days of snow, with driving blizzards and fierce winds, and +after that three days of intense cold in which every living creature +kept to its warm dugout in the snow. Even the birds had burrowed +themselves in. One might have walked on the backs of caribou and moose +and not have guessed it. Baree sheltered himself during the worst of +the storm but did not allow the snow to gather over him. + +Every trapper from Hudson's Bay to the country of the Athabasca knew +that after the Big Storm the famished fur animals would be seeking +food, and that traps and deadfalls properly set and baited stood the +biggest chance of the year of being filled. Some of them set out over +their trap lines on the sixth day; some on the seventh, and others on +the eighth. It was on the seventh day that Bush McTaggart started over +Pierre Eustach's line, which was now his own for the season. It took +him two days to uncover the traps, dig the snow from them, rebuild the +fallen "trap houses," and rearrange the baits. On the third day he was +back at Lac Bain. + +It was on this day that Baree came to the cabin at the far end of +McTaggart's line. McTaggart's trail was fresh in the snow about the +cabin, and the instant Baree sniffed of it every drop of blood in his +body seemed to leap suddenly with a strange excitement. It took perhaps +half a minute for the scent that filled his nostrils to associate +itself with what had gone before, and at the end of that half-minute +there rumbled in Baree's chest a deep and sullen growl. For many +minutes after that he stood like a black rock in the snow, watching the +cabin. + +Then slowly he began circling about it, drawing nearer and nearer, +until at last he was sniffing at the threshold. No sound or smell of +life came from inside, but he could smell the old smell of McTaggart. +Then he faced the wilderness--the direction in which the trap line ran +back to Lac Bain. He was trembling. His muscles twitched. He whined. +Pictures were assembling more and more vividly in his mind--the fight +in the cabin, Nepeese, the wild chase through the snow to the chasm's +edge--even the memory of that age-old struggle when McTaggart had +caught him in the rabbit snare. In his whine there was a great +yearning, almost expectation. Then it died slowly away. After all, the +scent in the snow was of a thing that he had hated and wanted to kill, +and not of anything that he had loved. For an instant nature had +impressed on him the significance of associations--a brief space only, +and then it was gone. The whine died away, but in its place came again +that ominous growl. + +Slowly he followed the trail and a quarter of a mile from the cabin +struck the first trap on the line. Hunger had caved in his sides until +he was like a starved wolf. In the first trap house McTaggart had +placed as bait the hindquarter of a snowshoe rabbit. Baree reached in +cautiously. He had learned many things on Pierrot's line: he had +learned what the snap of a trap meant. He had felt the cruel pain of +steel jaws; he knew better than the shrewdest fox what a deadfall would +do when the trigger was sprung--and Nepeese herself had taught him that +he was never to touch a poison bait. So he closed his teeth gently in +the rabbit flesh and drew it forth as cleverly as McTaggart himself +could have done. He visited five traps before dark, and ate the five +baits without springing a pan. The sixth was a deadfall. He circled +about this until he had beaten a path in the snow. Then he went on into +a warm balsam swamp and found himself a bed for the night. + +The next day saw the beginning of the struggle that was to follow +between the wits of man and beast. To Baree the encroachment of Bush +McTaggart's trap line was not war; it was existence. It was to furnish +him food, as Pierrot's line had furnished him food for many weeks. But +he sensed the fact that in this instance he was lawbreaker and had an +enemy to outwit. Had it been good hunting weather he might have gone +on, for the unseen hand that was guiding his wanderings was drawing him +slowly but surely back to the old beaver pond and the Gray Loon. As it +was, with the snow deep and soft under him--so deep that in places he +plunged into it over his ears--McTaggart's trap line was like a trail +of manna made for his special use. + +He followed in the factor's snowshoe tracks, and in the third trap +killed a rabbit. When he had finished with it nothing but the hair and +crimson patches of blood lay upon the snow. Starved for many days, he +was filled with a wolfish hunger, and before the day was over he had +robbed the bait from a full dozen of McTaggart's traps. Three times he +struck poison baits--venison or caribou fat in the heart of which was a +dose of strychnine, and each time his keen nostrils detected the +danger. Pierrot had more than once noted the amazing fact that Baree +could sense the presence of poison even when it was most skillfully +injected into the frozen carcass of a deer. Foxes and wolves ate of +flesh from which his supersensitive power of detecting the presence of +deadly danger turned him away. + +So he passed Bush McTaggart's poisoned tidbits, sniffing them on the +way, and leaving the story of his suspicion in the manner of his +footprints in the snow. Where McTaggart had halted at midday to cook +his dinner Baree made these same cautious circles with his feet. + +The second day, being less hungry and more keenly alive to the hated +smell of his enemy, Baree ate less but was more destructive. McTaggart +was not as skillful as Pierre Eustach in keeping the scent of his hands +from the traps and "houses," and every now and then the smell of him +was strong in Baree's nose. This wrought in Baree a swift and definite +antagonism, a steadily increasing hatred where a few days before hatred +was almost forgotten. + +There is, perhaps, in the animal mind a process of simple computation +which does not quite achieve the distinction of reason, and which is +not altogether instinct, but which produces results that might be +ascribed to either. Baree did not add two and two together to make +four. He did not go back step by step to prove to himself that the man +to whom this trap line belonged was the cause of all hit, griefs and +troubles--but he DID find himself possessed of a deep and yearning +hatred. McTaggart was the one creature except the wolves that he had +ever hated. It was McTaggart who had hurt him, McTaggart who had hurt +Pierrot, McTaggart who had made him lose his beloved Nepeese--AND +McTAGGART WAS HERE ON THIS TRAP LINE! If he had been wandering before, +without object or destiny, he was given a mission now. It was to keep +to the traps. To feed himself. And to vent his hatred and his vengeance +as he lived. + +The second day, in the center of a lake, he came upon the body of a +wolf that had died of one of the poison baits. For a half-hour he +mauled the dead beast until its skin was torn into ribbons. He did not +taste the flesh. It was repugnant to him. It was his vengeance on the +wolf breed. He stopped when he was half a dozen miles from Lac Bain, +and turned back. At this particular point the line crossed a frozen +stream beyond which was an open plain, and over that plain came--when +the wind was right--the smoke and smell of the Post. The second night +Baree lay with a full stomach in a thicket of banksian pine; the third +day he was traveling westward over the trap line again. + +Early on this morning Bush McTaggart started out to gather his catch, +and where he crossed the stream six miles from Lac Bain he first saw +Baree's tracks. He stopped to examine them with sudden and unusual +interest, falling at last on his knees, whipping off the glove from his +right hand, and picking up a single hair. + +"The black wolf!" + +He uttered the words in an odd, hard voice, and involuntarily his eyes +turned straight in the direction of the Gray Loon. After that, even +more carefully than before, he examined one of the clearly impressed +tracks in the snow. When he rose to his feet there was in his face the +look of one who had made an unpleasant discovery. + +"A black wolf!" he repeated, and shrugged his shoulders. "Bah! Lerue is +a fool. It is a dog." And then, after a moment, he muttered in a voice +scarcely louder than a whisper, "HER DOG." + +He went on, traveling in the trail of the dog. A new excitement +possessed him that was more thrilling than the excitement of the hunt. +Being human, it was his privilege to add two and two together, and out +of two and two he made--Baree. There was little doubt in his mind. The +thought had flashed on him first when Lerue had mentioned the black +wolf. He was convinced after his examination of the tracks. They were +the tracks of a dog, and the dog was black. Then he came to the first +trap that had been robbed of its bait. + +Under his breath he cursed. The bait was gone, and the trap was +unsprung. The sharpened stick that had transfixed the bait was pulled +out clean. + +All that day Bush McTaggart followed a trail where Baree had left +traces of his presence. Trap after trap he found robbed. On the lake he +came upon the mangled wolf. From the first disturbing excitement of his +discovery of Baree's presence his humor changed slowly to one of rage, +and his rage increased as the day dragged out. He was not unacquainted +with four-footed robbers of the trap line, but usually a wolf or a fox +or a dog who had grown adept in thievery troubled only a few traps. But +in this case Baree was traveling straight from trap to trap, and his +footprints in the snow showed that he had stopped at each one. There +was, to McTaggart, almost a human devilishness to his work. He evaded +the poisons. Not once did he stretch his head or paw within the danger +zone of a deadfall. For apparently no reason whatever he had destroyed +a splendid mink, whose glossy fur lay scattered in worthless bits over +the snow. Toward the end of the day McTaggart came to a deadfall in +which a lynx had died. Baree had torn the silvery flank of the animal +until the skin was of less than half value. McTaggart cursed aloud, and +his breath came hot. + +At dusk he reached the shack Pierre Eustach had built midway of his +line, and took inventory of his fur. It was not more than a third of a +catch; the lynx was half-ruined, a mink was torn completely in two. The +second day he found still greater ruin, still more barren traps. He was +like a madman. When he arrived at the second cabin, late in the +afternoon, Baree's tracks were not an hour old in the snow. Three times +during the night he heard the dog howling. + +The third day McTaggart did not return to Lac Bain, but began a +cautious hunt for Baree. An inch or two of fresh snow had fallen, and +as if to take even greater measure of vengeance from his man enemy +Baree had left his footprints freely within a radius of a hundred yards +of the cabin. It was half an hour before McTaggart could pick out the +straight trail, and he followed it for two hours into a thick banksian +swamp. Baree kept with the wind. Now and then he caught the scent of +his pursuer. A dozen times he waited until the other was so close he +could hear the snap of brush, or the metallic click of twigs against +his rifle barrel. And then, with a sudden inspiration that brought the +curses afresh to McTaggart's lips, he swung in a wide circle and cut +straight back for the trap line. When the factor reached the line, +along toward noon, Baree had already begun his work. He had killed and +eaten a rabbit. He had robbed three traps within the distance of a +mile, and he was headed again straight over the trap line for Post Lac +Bain. + +It was the fifth day that Bush McTaggart returned to his post. He was +in an ugly mood. Only Valence of the four Frenchmen was there, and it +was Valence who heard his story, and afterward heard him cursing Marie. +She came into the store a little later, big-eyed and frightened, one of +her cheeks flaming red where McTaggart had struck her. While the +storekeeper was getting her the canned salmon McTaggart wanted for his +dinner Valence found the opportunity to whisper softly in her ear: + +"M'sieu Lerue has trapped a silver fox," he said with low triumph. "He +loves you, cherie, and he will have a splendid catch by spring--and +sends you this message from his cabin up on The Little Black Bear with +No Tail: BE READY TO FLY WHEN THE SOFT SNOWS COME!" + +Marie did not look at him, but she heard, and her eyes shone so like +stars when the young storekeeper gave her the salmon that he said to +Valence, when she had gone: + +"Blue Death, but she is still beautiful at times. Valence!" + +To which Valence nodded with an odd smile. + + + +CHAPTER 26 + +By the middle of January the war between Baree and Bush McTaggart had +become more than an incident--more than a passing adventure to the +beast, and more than an irritating happening to the man. It was, for +the time, the elemental raison d'etre of their lives. Baree hung to the +trap line. He haunted it like a devastating specter, and each time that +he sniffed afresh the scent of the factor from Lac Bain he was +impressed still more strongly with the instinct that he was avenging +himself upon a deadly enemy. Again and again he outwitted McTaggart. He +continued to strip his traps of their bait and the humor grew in him +more strongly to destroy the fur he came across. His greatest pleasure +came to be--not in eating--but in destroying. + +The fires of his hatred burned fiercer as the weeks passed, until at +last he would snap and tear with his long fangs at the snow where +McTaggart's feet had passed. And all of the time, away back of his +madness, there was a vision of Nepeese that continued to grow more and +more clearly in his brain. That first Great Loneliness--the loneliness +of the long days and longer nights of his waiting and seeking on the +Gray Loon, oppressed him again as it had oppressed him in the early +days of her disappearance. On starry or moonlit nights he sent forth +his wailing cries for her again, and Bush McTaggart, listening to them +in the middle of the night, felt strange shivers run up his spine. The +man's hatred was different than the beast's, but perhaps even more +implacable. With McTaggart it was not hatred alone. There was mixed +with it an indefinable and superstitious fear, a thing he laughed at, a +thing he cursed at, but which clung to him as surely as the scent of +his trail clung to Baree's nose. Baree no longer stood for the animal +alone; HE STOOD FOR NEPEESE. That was the thought that insisted in +growing in McTaggart's ugly mind. Never a day passed now that he did +not think of the Willow; never a night came and went without a +visioning of her face. + +He even fancied, on a certain night of storm, that he heard her voice +out in the wailing of the wind--and less than a minute later he heard +faintly a distant howl out in the forest. That night his heart was +filled with a leaden dread. He shook himself. He smoked his pipe until +the cabin was blue. He cursed Baree, and the storm--but there was no +longer in him the bullying courage of old. He had not ceased to hate +Baree; he still hated him as he had never hated a man, but he had an +even greater reason now for wanting to kill him. It came to him first +in his sleep, in a restless dream, and after that it lived, and +lived--THE THOUGHT THAT THE SPIRIT OF NEPEESE WAS GUIDING BAREE IN THE +RAVAGING OF HIS TRAP LINE! + +After a time he ceased to talk at the Post about the Black Wolf that +was robbing his line. The furs damaged by Baree's teeth he kept out of +sight, and to himself he kept his secret. He learned every trick and +scheme of the hunters who killed foxes and wolves along the Barrens. He +tried three different poisons, one so powerful that a single drop of it +meant death. He tried strychnine in gelatin capsules, in deer fat, +caribou fat, moose liver, and even in the flesh of porcupine. At last, +in preparing his poisons, he dipped his hands in beaver oil before he +handled the venoms and flesh so that there could be no human smell. +Foxes, wolves, and even the mink and ermine died of these baits, but +Baree came always so near--and no nearer. In January McTaggart poisoned +every bait in his trap houses. This produced at least one good result +for him. From that day Baree no longer touched his baits, but ate only +the rabbits he killed in the traps. + +It was in January that McTaggart caught his first glimpse of Baree. He +had placed his rifle against a tree, and was a dozen feet away from it +at the time. It was as if Baree knew, and had come to taunt him. For +when the factor suddenly looked up Baree was standing out clear from +the dwarf spruce not twenty yards away from him, his white fangs +gleaming and his eyes burning like coals. For a space McTaggart stared +as if turned into stone. It was Baree. He recognized the white star, +the white-tipped ear, and his heart thumped like a hammer in his +breast. Very slowly he began to creep toward his rifle. His hand was +reaching for it when like a flash Baree was gone. + +This gave McTaggart his new idea. He blazed himself a fresh trail +through the forests parallel with his trap line but at least five +hundred yards distant from it. Wherever a trap or deadfall was set this +new trail struck sharply in, like the point of a V, so that he could +approach his line unobserved. By this strategy he believed that in time +he was sure of getting a shot at the dog. + +Again it was the man who was reasoning, and again it was the man who +was defeated. The first day that McTaggart followed his new trail Baree +also struck that trail. For a little while it puzzled him. Three times +he cut back and forth between the old and the new trail. Then there was +no doubt. The new trail was the FRESH trail, and he followed in the +footsteps of the factor from Lac Bain. McTaggart did not know what was +happening until his return trip, when he saw the story told in the +snow. Baree had visited each trap, and without exception he had +approached each time at the point of the inverted V. After a week of +futile hunting, of lying in wait, of approaching at every point of the +wind--a period during which McTaggart had twenty times cursed himself +into fits of madness, another idea came to him. It was like an +inspiration, and so simple that it seemed almost inconceivable that he +had not thought of it before. + +He hurried back to Post Lac Bain. + +The second day after he was on the trail at dawn. This time he carried +a pack in which there were a dozen strong wolf traps freshly dipped in +beaver oil, and a rabbit which he had snared the previous night. Now +and then he looked anxiously at the sky. It was clear until late in the +afternoon, when banks of dark clouds began rolling up from the east. +Half an hour later a few flakes of snow began falling. McTaggart let +one of these drop on the back of his mittened hand, and examined it +closely. It was soft and downy, and he gave vent to his satisfaction. +It was what he wanted. Before morning there would be six inches of +freshly fallen snow covering the trails. + +He stopped at the next trap house and quickly set to work. First he +threw away the poisoned bait in the "house" and replaced it with the +rabbit. Then he began setting his wolf traps. Three of these he placed +close to the "door" of the house, through which Baree would have to +reach for the bait. The remaining nine he scattered at intervals of a +foot or sixteen inches apart, so that when he was done a veritable +cordon of traps guarded the house. He did not fasten the chains, but +let them lay loose in the snow. If Baree got into one trap he would get +into others and there would be no use of toggles. His work done, +McTaggart hurried on through the thickening twilight of winter night to +his shack. He was highly elated. This time there could be no such thing +as failure. He had sprung every trap on his way from Lac Bain. In none +of those traps would Baree find anything to eat until he came to the +"nest" of twelve wolf traps. + +Seven inches of snow fell that night, and the whole world seemed turned +into a wonderful white robe. Like billows of feathers the snow clung to +the trees and shrubs. It gave tall white caps to the rocks, and +underfoot it was so light that a cartridge dropped from the hand sank +out of sight. Baree was on the trap line early. He was more cautious +this morning, for there was no longer the scent or snowshoe track of +McTaggart to guide him. He struck the first trap about halfway between +Lac Bain and the shack in which the factor was waiting. It was sprung, +and there was no bait. Trap after trap he visited, and all of them he +found sprung, and all without bait. He sniffed the air suspiciously, +striving vainly to catch the tang of smoke, a whiff of the man smell. + +Along toward noon he came to the "nest"--the twelve treacherous traps +waiting for him with gaping jaws half a foot under the blanket of snow. +For a full minute he stood well outside the danger line, sniffing the +air, and listening. He saw the rabbit, and his jaws closed with a +hungry click. He moved a step nearer. Still he was suspicious--for some +strange and inexplicable reason he sensed danger. Anxiously he sought +for it with his nose, his eyes, and his ears. And all about him there +was a great silence and a great peace. His jaws clicked again. He +whined softly. What was it stirring him? Where was the danger he could +neither see nor smell? Slowly he circled about the trap house. Three +times he circled round it, each circle drawing him a little +nearer--until at last his feet almost touched the outer cordon of +traps. Another minute he stood still; his ears flattened; in spite of +the rich aroma of the rabbit in his nostrils SOMETHING WAS DRAWING HIM +AWAY. In another moment he would have gone, but there came +suddenly--and from directly behind the trap house--a fierce little +ratlike squeak, and the next instant Baree saw an ermine whiter than +the snow tearing hungrily at the flesh of the rabbit. He forgot his +strange premonition of danger. He growled fiercely, but his plucky +little rival did not budge from his feast. And then he sprang straight +into the "nest" that Bush McTaggart had made for him. + + + +CHAPTER 27 + +The next morning Bush McTaggart heard the clanking of a chain when he +was still a good quarter of a mile from the "nest." Was it a lynx? Was +it a fishercat? Was it a wolf or a fox? OR WAS IT BAREE? He half ran +the rest of the distance, and it last he came to where he could see, +and his heart leaped into his throat when he saw that he had caught his +enemy. He approached, holding his rifle ready to fire if by any chance +the dog should free himself. + +Baree lay on his side, panting from exhaustion and quivering with pain. +A hoarse cry of exultation burst from McTaggart's lips as he drew +nearer and looked at the snow. It was packed hard for many feet about +the trap house, where Baree had struggled, and it was red with blood. +The blood had come mostly from Baree's jaws. They were dripping now as +he glared at his enemy. The steel jaws hidden under the snow had done +their merciless work well. One of his forefeet was caught well up +toward the first joint; both hind feet were caught. A fourth trap had +closed on his flank, and in tearing the jaws loose he had pulled off a +patch of skin half as big as McTaggart's hand. The snow told the story +of his desperate fight all through the night. His bleeding jaws showed +how vainly he had tried to break the imprisoning steel with his teeth. +He was panting. His eyes were bloodshot. + +But even now, after all his hours of agony, neither his spirit nor his +courage was broken. When he saw McTaggart he made a lunge to his feet, +almost instantly crumpling down into the snow again. But his forefeet +were braced. His head and chest remained up, and the snarl that came +from his throat was tigerish in its ferocity. Here, at last--not more +than a dozen feet from him--was the one thing in all the world that he +hated more than he hated the wolf breed. And again he was helpless, as +he had been helpless that other time in the rabbit snare. + +The fierceness of his snarl did not disturb Bush McTaggart now. He saw +how utterly the other was at his mercy, and with an exultant laugh he +leaned his rifle against a tree, pulled oft his mittens, and began +loading his pipe. This was the triumph he had looked forward to, the +torture he had waited for. In his soul there was a hatred as deadly as +Baree's, the hatred that a man might have for a man. He had expected to +send a bullet through the dog. But this was better--to watch him dying +by inches, to taunt him as he would have taunted a human, to walk about +him so that he could hear the clank of the traps and see the fresh +blood drip as Baree twisted his tortured legs and body to keep facing +him. It was a splendid vengeance. He was so engrossed in it that he did +not hear the approach of snowshoes behind him. It was a voice--a man's +voice--that turned him round in his tracks. + +The man was a stranger, and he was younger than McTaggart by ten years. +At least he looked no more than thirty-five or six, even with the short +growth of blond beard he wore. He was of that sort that the average man +would like at first glance; boyish, and yet a man; with clear eyes that +looked out frankly from under the rim of his fur cap, a form lithe as +an Indian's, and a face that did not bear the hard lines of the +wilderness. Yet McTaggart knew before he had spoken that this man was +of the wilderness, that he was heart and soul a part of it. His cap was +of fisher skin. He wore a windproof coat of softly tanned caribou skin, +belted at the waist with a long sash, and Indian fringed. The inside of +the coat was furred. He was traveling on the long, slender bush country +snowshoe. His pack, strapped over the shoulders, was small and compact; +he was carrying his rifle in a cloth jacket. And from cap to snowshoes +he was TRAVEL WORN. McTaggart, at a guess, would have said that he had +traveled a thousand miles in the last few weeks. It was not this +thought that sent the strange and chilling thrill up his back; but the +sudden fear that in some strange way a whisper of the truth might have +found its way down into the south--the truth of what had happened on +the Gray Loon--and that this travel-worn stranger wore under his +caribou-skin coat the badge of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police. For +that instant it was almost a terror that possessed him, and he stood +mute. + +The stranger had uttered only an amazed exclamation before. Now he +said, with his eyes on Baree: + +"God save us, but you've got the poor devil in a right proper mess, +haven't you?" + +There was something in the voice that reassured McTaggart. It was not a +suspicious voice, and he saw that the stranger was more interested in +the captured animal than in himself. He drew a deep breath. + +"A trap robber," he said. + +The stranger was staring still more closely at Baree. He thrust his gun +stock downward in the snow and drew nearer to him. + +"God save us again--a dog!" he exclaimed. + +From behind, McTaggart was watching the man with the eyes of a ferret. + +"Yes, a dog," he answered. "A wild dog, half wolf at least. He's robbed +me of a thousand dollars' worth of fur this winter." + +The stranger squatted himself before Baree, with his mittened hands +resting on his knees, and his white teeth gleaming in a half smile. + +"You poor devil!" he said sympathetically. "So you're a trap robber, +eh? An outlaw? And--the police have got you! And--God save us once +more--they haven't played you a very square game!" + +He rose and faced McTaggart. + +"I had to set a lot of traps like that," the factor apologized, his +face reddening slightly under the steady gaze of the stranger's blue +eyes. Suddenly his animus rose. "And he's going to die there, inch by +inch. I'm going to let him starve, and rot in the traps, to pay for all +he's done." He picked up his gun, and added, with his eyes on the +stranger and his finger ready at the trigger, "I'm Bush McTaggart, the +factor at Lac Bain. Are you bound that way, M'sieu?" + +"A few miles. I'm bound upcountry--beyond the Barrens." + +McTaggart felt again the strange thrill. + +"Government?" he asked. + +The stranger nodded. + +"The--police, perhaps," persisted McTaggart. + +"Why, yes--of course--the police," said the stranger, looking straight +into the factor's eyes. "And now, m'sieu, as a very great courtesy to +the Law I'm going to ask you to send a bullet through that beast's head +before we go on. Will you? Or shall I?" + +"It's the law of the line," said McTaggart, "to let a trap robber rot +in the traps. And that beast was a devil. Listen--" + +Swiftly, and yet leaving out none of the fine detail, he told of the +weeks and months of strife between himself and Baree; of the maddening +futility of all his tricks and schemes and the still more maddening +cleverness of the beast he had at last succeeded in trapping. + +"He was a devil--that clever," he cried fiercely when he had finished. +"And now--would you shoot him, or let him lie there and die by inches, +as the devil should?" + +The stranger was looking at Baree. His face was turned away from +McTaggart. He said: + +"I guess you are right. Let the devil rot. If you're heading for Lac +Bain, m'sieu, I'll travel a short distance with you now. It will take a +couple of miles to straighten out the line of my compass." + +He picked up his gun. McTaggart led the way. At the end of half an hour +the stranger stopped, and pointed north. + +"Straight up there--a good five hundred miles," he said, speaking as +lightly as though he would reach home that night. "I'll leave you here." + +He made no offer to shake hands. But in going, he said: + +"You might report that John Madison has passed this way." + +After that he traveled straight northward for half a mile through the +deep forest. Then he swung westward for two miles, turned at a sharp +angle into the south, and an hour after he had left McTaggart he was +once more squatted on his heels almost within arms' reach of Baree. + +And he was saying, as though speaking to a human companion: + +"So that's what you've been, old boy. A trap robber, eh? An OUTLAW? And +you beat him at the game for two months! And for that, because you're a +better beast than he is, he wants to let you die here as slow as you +can. An OUTLAW!" His voice broke into a pleasant laugh, the sort of +laugh that warms one, even a beast. "That's funny. We ought to shake +hands, Boy, by George, we had! You're a wild one, he says. Well, so am +I. Told him my name was John Madison. It ain't. I'm Jim Carvel. And, oh +Lord!--all I said was 'police.' And that was right. It ain't a lie. I'm +wanted by the whole corporation--by every danged policeman between +Hudson's Bay and the Mackenzie River. Shake, old man. We're in the same +boat, an' I'm glad to meet you!" + + + +CHAPTER 28 + +Jim Carvel held out his hand, and the snarl that was in Baree's throat +died away. The man rose to his feet. He stood there, looking in the +direction taken by Bush McTaggart, and chuckled in a curious, exultant +sort of way. + +There was friendliness even in that chuckle. There was friendliness in +his eyes and in the shine of his teeth as he looked again at Baree. +About him there was something that seemed to make the gray day +brighter, that seemed to warm the chill air--a strange something that +radiated cheer and hope and comradeship just as a hot stove sends out +the glow of heat. Baree felt it. For the first time since the two men +had come his trap-torn body lost its tenseness; his back sagged; his +teeth clicked as he shivered in his agony. To THIS man he betrayed his +weakness. In his bloodshot eyes there was a hungering look as he +watched Carvel--the self-confessed outlaw. And Jim Carvel again held +out his hand--much nearer this time. + +"You poor devil," he said, the smile going out of his face. "You poor +devil!" + +The words were like a caress to Baree--the first he had known since the +loss of Nepeese and Pierrot. He dropped his head until his jaw lay flat +in the snow. Carvel could see the blood dripping slowly from it. + +"You poor devil!" he repeated. + +There was no fear in the way he put forth his hand. It was the +confidence of a great sincerity and a great compassion. It touched +Baree's head and patted it in a brotherly fashion, and then--slowly and +with a bit more caution--it went to the trap fastened to Baree's +forepaw. In his half-crazed brain Baree was fighting to understand +things, and the truth came finally when he felt the steel jaws of the +trap open, and he drew forth his maimed foot. He did then what he had +done to no other creature but Nepeese. Just once his hot tongue shot +out and licked Carvel's hand. The man laughed. With his powerful hands +he opened the other traps, and Baree was free. + +For a few moments he lay without moving, his eyes fixed on the man. +Carvel had seated himself on the snow-covered end of a birch log and +was filling his pipe. Baree watched him light it; he noted with new +interest the first purplish cloud of smoke that left Carvel's mouth. +The man was not more than the length of two trap chains away--and he +grinned at Baree. + +"Screw up your nerve, old chap," he encouraged. "No bones broke. Just a +little stiff. Mebby we'd better--get out." + +He turned his face in the direction of Lac Bain. The suspicion was in +his mind that McTaggart might turn back. Perhaps that same suspicion +was impressed upon Baree, for when Carvel looked at him again he was on +his feet, staggering a bit as he gained his equilibrium. In another +moment the outlaw had swung the packsack from his shoulders and was +opening it. He thrust in his hand and drew out a chunk of raw, red meat. + +"Killed it this morning," he explained to Baree. "Yearling bull, tender +as partridge--and that's as fine a sweetbread as ever came out from +under a backbone. Try it!" + +He tossed the flesh to Baree. There was no equivocation in the manner +of its acceptance. Baree was famished--and the meat was flung to him by +a friend. He buried his teeth in it. His jaws crunched it. New fire +leapt into his blood as he feasted, but not for an instant did his +reddened eyes leave the other's face. Carvel replaced his pack. He rose +to his feet, took up his rifle, slipped on his snowshoes, and fronted +the north. + +"Come on. Boy," he said. "We've got to travel." + +It was a matter-of-fact invitation, as though the two had been +traveling companions for a long time. It was, perhaps, not only an +invitation but partly a command. It puzzled Baree. For a full +half-minute he stood motionless in his tracks gazing at Carvel as he +strode into the north. A sudden convulsive twitching shot through +Baree. He swung his head toward Lac Bain; he looked again at Carvel, +and a whine that was scarcely more than a breath came out of his +throat. The man was just about to disappear into the thick spruce. He +paused, and looked back. + +"Coming, Boy?" + +Even at that distance Baree could see him grinning affably. He saw the +outstretched hand, and the voice stirred new sensations in him. It was +not like Pierrot's voice. He had never loved Pierrot. Neither was it +soft and sweet like the Willow's. He had known only a few men, and all +of them he had regarded with distrust. But this was a voice that +disarmed him. It was lureful in its appeal. He wanted to answer it. He +was filled with a desire, all at once, to follow close at the heels of +this stranger. For the first time in his life a craving for the +friendship of man possessed him. He did not move until Jim Carvel +entered the spruce. Then he followed. + +That night they were camped in a dense growth of cedars and balsams ten +miles north of Bush McTaggart's trap line. For two hours it had snowed, +and their trail was covered. It was still snowing, but not a flake of +the white deluge sifted down through the thick canopy of boughs. Carvel +had put up his small silk tent, and had built a fire. Their supper was +over, and Baree lay on his belly facing the outlaw, almost within reach +of his hand. With his back to a tree Carvel was smoking luxuriously. He +had thrown off his cap and his coat, and in the warm fireglow he looked +almost boyishly young. But even in that glow his jaws lost none of +their squareness, nor his eyes their clear alertness. + +"Seems good to have someone to talk to," he was saying to Baree. +"Someone who can understand, an' keep his mouth shut. Did you ever want +to howl, an' didn't dare? Well, that's me. Sometimes I've been on the +point of bustin' because I wanted to talk to someone, an' couldn't." + +He rubbed his hands together, and held them out toward the fire. Baree +watched his movements and listened intently to every sound that escaped +his lips. His eyes had in them now a dumb sort of worship, a look that +warmed Carvel's heart and did away with the vast loneliness and +emptiness of the night. Baree had dragged himself nearer to the man's +feet, and suddenly Carvel leaned over and patted his head. + +"I'm a bad one, old chap," he chuckled. "You haven't got it on me--not +a bit. Want to know what happened?" He waited a moment, and Baree +looked at him steadily. Then Carvel went on, as if speaking to a human, +"Let's see--it was five years ago, five years this December, just +before Christmas time. Had a Dad. Fine old chap, my dad was. No +Mother--just the Dad, an' when you added us up we made just One. +Understand? And along came a white-striped skunk named Hardy and shot +him one day because Dad had worked against him in politics. Out an' out +murder. An' they didn't hang that skunk! No, sir, they didn't hang him. +He had too much money, an' too many friends in politics, an' they let +'im off with two years in the penitentiary. But he didn't get there. +No--s'elp me God, he didn't get there!" + +Carvel was twisting his hands until his knuckles cracked. An exultant +smile lighted up his face, and his eyes flashed back the firelight. +Baree drew a deep breath--a mere coincidence; but it was a tense moment +for all that. + +"No, he didn't get to the penitentiary," went on Carvel, looking +straight at Baree again. "Yours truly knew what that meant, old chap. +He'd have been pardoned inside a year. An' there was my dad, the +biggest half of me, in his grave. So I just went up to that +white-striped skunk right there before the judge's eyes, an' the +lawyers' eyes, an' the eyes of all his dear relatives an' friends--AND +I KILLED HIM! And I got away. Was out through a window before they woke +up, hit for the bush country, and have been eating up the trails ever +since. An' I guess God was with me, Boy. For He did a queer thing to +help me out summer before last, just when the Mounties were after me +hardest an' it looked pretty black. Man was found drowned down in the +Reindeer Country, right where they thought I was cornered. An' the good +Lord made that man look so much like me that he was buried under my +name. So I'm officially dead, old chap. I don't need to be afraid any +more so long as I don't get too familiar with people for a year or so +longer, and 'way down inside me I've liked to believe God fixed it up +in that way to help me out of a bad hole. What's YOUR opinion? Eh?" + +He leaned forward for an answer. Baree had listened. Perhaps, in a way, +he had understood. But it was another sound than Carvel's voice that +came to his ears now. With his head close to the ground he heard it +quite distinctly. He whined, and the whine ended in a snarl so low that +Carvel just caught the warning note in it. He straightened. He stood up +then, and faced the south. Baree stood beside him, his legs tense and +his spine bristling. + +After a moment Carvel said: + +"Relatives of yours, old chap. Wolves." + +He went into the tent for his rifle and cartridges. + + + +CHAPTER 29 + +Baree was on his feet, rigid as hewn rock, when Carvel came out of the +tent, and for a few moments Carvel stood in silence, watching him +closely. Would the dog respond to the call of the pack? Did he belong +to them? Would he go--now? The wolves were drawing nearer. They were +not circling, as a caribou or a deer would have circled, but were +traveling straight--dead straight for their camp. The significance of +this fact was easily understood by Carvel. All that afternoon Baree's +feet had left a blood smell in their trail, and the wolves had struck +the trail in the deep forest, where the falling snow had not covered +it. Carvel was not alarmed. More than once in his five years of +wandering between the Arctic and the Height of Land he had played the +game with the wolves. Once he had almost lost, but that was out in the +open Barren. Tonight he had a fire, and in the event of his firewood +running out he had trees he could climb. His anxiety just now was +centered in Baree. So he said, making his voice quite casual: + +"You aren't going, are you, old chap?" + +If Baree heard him he gave no evidence of it. But Carvel, still +watching him closely, saw that the hair along his spine had risen like +a brush, and then he heard--growing slowly in Baree's throat--a snarl +of ferocious hatred. It was the sort of snarl that had held back the +factor from Lac Bain, and Carvel, opening the breech of his gun to see +that all was right, chuckled happily. Baree may have heard the chuckle. +Perhaps it meant something to him, for he turned his head suddenly and +with flattened ears looked at his companion. + +The wolves were silent now. Carvel knew what that meant, and he was +tensely alert. In the stillness the click of the safety on his rifle +sounded with metallic sharpness. For many minutes they heard nothing +but the crack of the fire. Suddenly Baree's muscles seemed to snap. He +sprang back, and faced the quarter behind Carvel, his head level with +his shoulders, his inch-long fangs gleaming as he snarled into the +black caverns of the forest beyond the rim of firelight. Carvel had +turned like a shot. It was almost frightening--what he saw. A pair of +eyes burning with greenish fire, and then another pair, and after that +so many of them that he could not have counted them. He gave a sadden +gasp. They were like cat eyes, only much larger. Some of them, catching +the firelight fully, were red as coals, others flashed blue and +green--living things without bodies. With a swift glance he took in the +black circle of the forest. They were out there, too; they were on all +sides of them, but where he had seen them first they were thickest. In +these first few seconds he had forgotten Baree, awed almost to +stupefaction by that monster-eyed cordon of death that hemmed them in. +There were fifty--perhaps a hundred wolves out there, afraid of nothing +in all this savage world but fire. They had come up without the sound +of a padded foot or a broken twig. If it had been later, and they had +been asleep, and the fire out-- + +He shuddered, and for a moment the thought got the better of his +nerves. He had not intended to shoot except from necessity, but all at +once his rifle came to his shoulder and he sent a stream of fire out +where the eyes were thickest. Baree knew what the shots meant, and +filled with the mad desire to get at the throat of one of his enemies +he dashed in their direction. Carvel gave a startled yell as he went. +He saw the flash of Baree's body, saw it swallowed up in the gloom, and +in that same instant heard the deadly clash of fangs and the impact of +bodies. A wild thrill shot through him. The dog had charged alone--and +the wolves had waited. There could be but one end. His four-footed +comrade had gone straight into the jaws of death! + +He could hear the ravening snap of those jaws out in the darkness. It +was sickening. His hand went to the Colt .45 at his belt, and he thrust +his empty rifle butt downward into the snow. With the big automatic +before his eyes he plunged out into the darkness, and from his lips +there issued a wild yelling that could have been heard a mile away. +With the yelling a steady stream of fire spat from the Colt into the +mass of fighting beasts. There were eight shots in the automatic, and +not until the plunger clicked with metallic emptiness did Carvel cease +his yelling and retreat into the firelight. He listened, breathing +deeply. He no longer saw eyes in the darkness, nor did he hear the +movement of bodies. The suddenness and ferocity of his attack had +driven back the wolf horde. But the dog! He caught his breath, and +strained his eyes. A shadow was dragging itself into the circle of +light. It was Baree. Carvel ran to him, put his arms under his +shoulders, and brought him to the fire. + +For a long time after that there was a questioning light in Carvel's +eyes. He reloaded his guns, put fresh fuel on the fire, and from his +pack dug out strips of cloth with which he bandaged three or four of +the deepest cuts in Baree's legs. And a dozen times he asked, in a +wondering sort of way, + +"Now what the deuce made you do that, old chap? What have YOU got +against the wolves?" + +All that night he did not sleep, but watched. + + +Their experience with the wolves broke down the last bit of uncertainty +that might have existed between the man and the dog. For days after +that, as they traveled slowly north and west, Carvel nursed Baree as he +might have cared for a sick child. Because of the dog's hurts, he made +only a few miles a day. Baree understood, and in him there grew +stronger and stronger a great love for the man whose hands were as +gentle as the Willow's and whose voice warmed him with the thrill of an +immeasurable comradeship. He no longer feared him or had a suspicion of +him. And Carvel, on his part, was observing things. The vast emptiness +of the world about them, and their aloneness, gave him the opportunity +of pondering over unimportant details, and he found himself each day +watching Baree a little more closely. He made at last a discovery which +interested him deeply. Always, when they halted on the trail, Baree +would turn his face to the south. When they were in camp it was from +the south that he nosed the wind most frequently. This was quite +natural, Carvel thought, for his old hunting grounds were back there. +But as the days passed he began to notice other things. Now and then, +looking off into the far country from which they had come, Baree would +whine softly, and on that day he would be filled with a great +restlessness. He gave no evidence of wanting to leave Carvel, but more +and more Carvel came to understand that some mysterious call was coming +to him from out of the south. + +It was the wanderer's intention to swing over into the country of the +Great Slave, a good eight hundred miles to the north and west, before +the mush snows came. From there, when the waters opened in springtime, +he planned to travel by canoe westward to the Mackenzie and ultimately +to the mountains of British Columbia. These plans were changed in +February. They were caught in a great storm in the Wholdaia Lake +country, and when their fortunes looked darkest Carvel stumbled on a +cabin in the heart of a deep spruce forest, and in this cabin there was +a dead man. He had been dead for many days, and was frozen stiff. +Carvel chopped a hole in the earth and buried him. + +The cabin was a treasure trove to Carvel and Baree, and especially to +the man. It evidently possessed no other owner than the one who had +died. It was comfortable and stocked with provisions; and more than +that, its owner had made a splendid catch of fur before the frost bit +his lungs, and he died. Carvel went over them carefully and joyously. +They were worth a thousand dollars at any post, and he could see no +reason why they did not belong to him now. Within a week he had blazed +out the dead man's snow-covered trap line and was trapping on his own +account. + +This was two hundred miles north and west of the Gray Loon, and soon +Carvel observed that Baree did not face directly south in those moments +when the strange call came to him, but south and east. And now, with +each day that passed, the sun rose higher in the sky; it grew warmer; +the snow softened underfoot, and in the air was the tremulous and +growing throb of spring. With these things came the old yearning to +Baree; the heart-thrilling call of the lonely graves back on the Gray +Loon, of the burned cabin, the abandoned tepee beyond the pool--and of +Nepeese. In his sleep he saw visions of things. He heard again the low, +sweet voice of the Willow, felt the touch of her hand, was at play with +her once more in the dark shades of the forest--and Carvel would sit +and watch him as he dreamed, trying to read the meaning of what he saw +and heard. + +In April Carvel shouldered his furs up to the Hudson's Bay Company's +post at Lac la Biche, which was still farther north. Baree accompanied +him halfway, and then--at sundown Carvel returned to the cabin and +found him there. He was so overjoyed that he caught the dog's head in +his arms and hugged it. They lived in the cabin until May. The buds +were swelling then, and the smell of growing things had begun to rise +up out of the earth. + +Then Carvel found the first of the early blue flowers. + +That night he packed up. + +"It's time to travel," he announced to Baree. "And I've sort of changed +my mind. We're going back--there." And he pointed south. + + + +CHAPTER 30 + +A strange humor possessed Carvel as he began the southward journey. He +did not believe in omens, good or bad. + +Superstition had played a small part in his life, but he possessed both +curiosity and a love for adventure, and his years of lonely wandering +had developed in him a wonderfully clear mental vision of things, which +in other words might be called a singularly active imagination. He knew +that some irresistible force was drawing Baree back into the +south--that it was pulling him not only along a given line of the +compass, but to an exact point in that line. + +For no reason in particular the situation began to interest him more +and more, and as his time was valueless, and he had no fixed +destination in view, he began to experiment. For the first two days he +marked the dog's course by compass. It was due southeast. On the third +morning Carvel purposely struck a course straight west. He noted +quickly the change in Baree--his restlessness at first, and after that +the dejected manner in which he followed at his heels. Toward noon +Carvel swung sharply to the south and east again, and almost +immediately Baree regained his old eagerness, and ran ahead of his +master. + +After this, for many days, Carvel followed the trail of the dog. + +"Mebby I'm an idiot, old chap," he apologized one evening. "But it's a +bit of fun, after all--an' I've got to hit the line of rail before I +can get over to the mountains, so what's the difference? I'm game--so +long as you don't take me back to that chap at Lac Bain. Now--what the +devil! Are you hitting for his trap line, to get even? If that's the +case--" + +He blew out a cloud of smoke from his pipe as he eyed Baree, and Baree, +with his head between his forepaws, eyed him back. + +A week later Baree answered Carvel's question by swinging westward to +give a wide berth to Post Lac Bain. It was midafternoon when they +crossed the trail along which Bush McTaggart's traps and deadfalls had +been set. Baree did not even pause. He headed due south, traveling so +fast that at times he was lost to Carvel's sight. A suppressed but +intense excitement possessed him, and he whined whenever Carvel stopped +to rest--always with his nose sniffing the wind out of the south. +Springtime, the flowers, the earth turning green, the singing of birds, +and the sweet breaths in the air were bringing him back to that great +yesterday when he had belonged to Nepeese. In his unreasoning mind +there existed no longer a winter. The long months of cold and hunger +were gone; in the new visionings that filled his brain they were +forgotten. The birds and flowers and the blue skies had come back, and +with them the Willow must surely have returned, and she was waiting for +him now, just over there beyond that rim of green forest. + +Something greater than mere curiosity began to take possession of +Carvel. A whimsical humor became a fixed and deeper thought, an +unreasoning anticipation that was accompanied by a certain thrill of +subdued excitement. By the time they reached the old beaver pond the +mystery of the strange adventure had a firm hold on him. From Beaver +Tooth's colony Baree led him to the creek along which Wakayoo, the +black bear, had fished, and thence straight to the Gray Loon. + +It was early afternoon of a wonderful day. It was so still that the +rippling waters of spring, singing in a thousand rills and streamlets, +filled the forests with a droning music. In the warm sun the crimson +bakneesh glowed like blood. In the open spaces the air was scented with +the perfume of blue flowers. In the trees and bushes mated birds were +building their nests. After the long sleep of winter nature was at work +in all her glory. It was Unekepesim, the Mating Moon, the Home-building +Moon--and Baree was going home. Not to matehood--but to Nepeese. He +knew that she was there now, perhaps at the very edge of the chasm +where he had seen her last. They would be playing together again soon, +as they had played yesterday, and the day before, and the day before +that, and in his joy he barked up into Carvel's face, and urged him to +greater speed. + +Then they came to the clearing, and once more Baree stood like a rock. +Carvel saw the charred ruins of the burned cabin, and a moment later +the two graves under the tall spruce. He began to understand as his +eyes returned slowly to the waiting, listening dog. A great swelling +rose in his throat, and after a moment or two he said softly, and with +an effort, + +"Boy, I guess you're home." + +Baree did not hear. With his head up and his nose tilted to the blue +sky he was sniffing the air. What was it that came to him with the +perfumes of the forests and the green meadow? Why was it that he +trembled now as he stood there? What was there in the air? Carvel asked +himself, and his questing eyes tried to answer the questions. Nothing. +There was death here--death and desertion, that was all. And then, all +at once, there came from Baree a strange cry--almost a human cry--and +he was gone like the wind. + +Carvel had thrown off his pack. He dropped his rifle beside it now, and +followed Baree. He ran swiftly, straight across the open, into the +dwarf balsams, and into a grass-grown path that had once been worn by +the travel of feet. He ran until he was panting for breath, and then +stopped, and listened. He could hear nothing of Baree. But that old +worn trail led on under the forest trees, and he followed it. + +Close to the deep, dark pool in which he and the Willow had disported +so often Baree, too, had stopped. He could hear the rippling of water, +and his eyes shone with a gleaming fire as he searched for Nepeese. He +expected to see her there, her slim white body shimmering in some dark +shadow of overhanging spruce, or gleaming suddenly white as snow in one +of the warm plashes of sunlight. His eyes sought out their old hiding +places; the great split rock on the other side, the shelving banks +under which they used to dive like otter, the spruce boughs that dipped +down to the surface, and in the midst of which the Willow loved to +pretend to hide while he searched the pool for her. And at last the +realization was borne upon him that she was not there, that he had +still farther to go. + +He went on to the tepee. The little open space in which they had built +their hidden wigwam was flooded with sunshine that came through a break +in the forest to the west. The tepee was still there. It did not seem +very much changed to Baree. And rising from the ground in front of the +tepee was what had come to him faintly on the still air--the smoke of a +small fire. Over that fire was bending a person, and it did not strike +Baree as amazing, or at all unexpected, that this person should have +two great shining braids down her back. He whined, and at his whine the +person grew a little rigid, and turned slowly. + +Even then it seemed quite the most natural thing in the world that it +should be Nepeese, and none other. He had lost her yesterday. Today he +had found her. And in answer to his whine there came a sobbing cry +straight out of the heart of the Willow. + + +Carvel found them there a few minutes later, the dog's head hugged +close up against the Willow's breast, and the Willow was crying--crying +like a little child, her face hidden from him on Baree's neck. He did +not interrupt them, but waited; and as he waited something in the +sobbing voice and the stillness of the forest seemed to whisper to him +a bit of the story of the burned cabin and the two graves, and the +meaning of the Call that had come to Baree from out of the south. + + + +CHAPTER 31 + +That night there was a new campfire in the clearing. It was not a small +fire, built with the fear that other eyes might see it, but a fire that +sent its flames high. In the glow of it stood Carvel. And as the fire +had changed from that small smoldering heap over which the Willow had +cooked her dinner, so Carvel, the officially dead outlaw, had changed. +The beard was gone from his face. He had thrown off his caribou-skin +coat. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and there was a wild +flush in his face that was not altogether the work of wind and sun and +storm, and a glow in his eyes that had not been there for five years, +perhaps never before. His eyes were on Nepeese. + +She sat in the firelight, leaning a little toward the blaze, her +wonderful hair warmly reflecting its mellow light. Carvel did not move +while she was in that attitude. He seemed scarcely to breathe. The glow +in his eyes grew deeper--the worship of a man for a woman. Suddenly +Nepeese turned and caught him before he could turn his gaze. There was +nothing to hide in her own eyes. Like her face, they were alight with a +new hope and a new gladness. Carvel sat down beside her on the birch +log, and in his hand he took one of her thick braids and crumpled it as +he talked. At their feet, watching them, lay Baree. + +"Tomorrow or the next day I am going to Lac Bain," he said, a hard and +bitter note back of the gentle worship in his voice. "I will not come +back until I have--killed him." + +The Willow looked straight into the fire. For a time there was a +silence broken only by the crackling of the flames, and in that silence +Carvel's fingers weaved in and out of the silken strands of the +Willow's hair. His thoughts flashed back. What a chance he had missed +that day on Bush McTaggart's trap line--if he had only known! His jaws +set hard as he saw in the red-hot heart of the fire the mental pictures +of the day when the factor from Lac Bain had killed Pierrot. She had +told him the whole story. Her flight. Her plunge to what she had +thought was certain death in the icy torrent of the chasm. Her +miraculous escape from the waters--and how she was discovered, nearly +dead, by Tuboa, the toothless old Cree whom Pierrot out of pity had +allowed to hunt in part of his domain. He felt within himself the +tragedy and the horror of the one terrible hour in which the sun had +gone out of the world for the Willow, and in the flames he could see +faithful old Tuboa as he called on his last strength to bear Nepeese +over the long miles that lay between the chasm and his cabin. He caught +shifting visions of the weeks that followed in that cabin, weeks of +hunger and of intense cold in which the Willow's life hung by a single +thread. And at last, when the snows were deepest, Tuboa had died. +Carvel's fingers clenched in the strands of the Willow's braid. A deep +breath rose out of his chest, and he said, staring deep into the fire, + +"Tomorrow I will go to Lac Bain." + +For a moment Nepeese did not answer. She, too, was looking into the +fire. Then she said: + +"Tuboa meant to kill him when the spring came, and he could travel. +When Tuboa died I knew that it was I who must kill him. So I came, with +Tuboa's gun. It was fresh loaded--yesterday. And--M'sieu Jeem"--she +looked up at him, a triumphant glow in her eyes as she added, almost in +a whisper--"You will not go to Lac Bain. I HAVE SENT A MESSENGER." + +"A messenger?" + +"Yes, Ookimow Jeem--a messenger. Two days ago. I sent word that I had +not died, but was here--waiting for him--and that I would be Iskwao +now, his wife. Oo-oo, he will come, Ookimow Jeem--he will come fast. +And you shall not kill him. Non!" She smiled into his face, and the +throb of Carvel's heart was like a drum. "The gun is loaded," she said +softly. "I will shoot." + +"Two days ago," said Carvel. "And from Lac Bain it is--" + +"He will be here tomorrow," Nepeese answered him. + +"Tomorrow, as the sun goes down, he will enter the clearing. I know. My +blood has been singing it all day. Tomorrow--tomorrow--for he will +travel fast, Ookimow Jeem. Yes, he will come fast." + +Carvel had bent his head. The soft tresses gripped in his fingers were +crushed to his lips. The Willow, looking again into the fire, did not +see. But she FELT--and her soul was beating like the wings of a bird. + +"Ookimow Jeem," she whispered--a breath, a flutter of the lips so soft +that Carvel heard no sound. + +If old Tuboa had been there that night it is possible he would have +read strange warnings in the winds that whispered now and then softly +in the treetops. It was such a night; a night when the Red Gods whisper +low among themselves, a carnival of glory in which even the dipping +shadows and the high stars seemed to quiver with the life of a potent +language. It is barely possible that old Tuboa, with his ninety years +behind him, would have learned something, or that at least he would +have SUSPECTED a thing which Carvel in his youth and confidence did not +see. Tomorrow--he will come tomorrow! The Willow, exultant, had said +that. But to old Tuboa the trees might have whispered, WHY NOT TONIGHT? + +It was midnight when the big moon stood full above the little opening +in the forest. In the tepee the Willow was sleeping. In a balsam shadow +back from the fire slept Baree, and still farther back in the edge of a +spruce thicket slept Carvel. Dog and man were tired. They had traveled +far and fast that day, and they heard no sound. + +But they had traveled neither so far nor so fast as Bush McTaggart. +Between sunrise and midnight he had come forty miles when he strode out +into the clearing where Pierrot's cabin had stood. Twice from the edge +of the forest he had called; and now, when he found no answer, he stood +under the light of the moon and listened. Nepeese was to be +here--waiting. He was tired, but exhaustion could not still the fire +that burned in his blood. It had been blazing all day, and now--so near +its realization and its triumph--the old passion was like a rich wine +in his veins. Somewhere, near where he stood, Nepeese was waiting for +him, WAITING FOR HIM. Once again he called, his heart beating in a +fierce anticipation as he listened. There was no answer. And then for a +thrilling instant his breath stopped. He sniffed the air--and there +came to him faintly the smell of smoke. + +With the first instinct of the forest man he fronted the wind that was +but a faint breath under the starlit skies. He did not call again, but +hastened across the clearing. Nepeese was off +there--somewhere--sleeping beside her fire, and out of him there rose a +low cry of exultation. He came to the edge of the forest; chance +directed his steps to the overgrown trail. He followed it, and the +smoke smell came stronger to his nostrils. + +It was the forest man's instinct, too, that added the element of +caution to his advance. That, and the utter stillness of the night. He +broke no sticks under his feet. He disturbed the brush so quietly that +it made no sound. When he came at last to the little open where +Carvel's fire was still sending a spiral of spruce-scented smoke up +into the air it was with a stealth that failed even to rouse Baree. +Perhaps, deep down in him, there smoldered an old suspicion; perhaps it +was because he wanted to come to her while she was sleeping. The sight +of the tepee made his heart throb faster. It was light as day where it +stood in the moonlight, and he saw hanging outside it a few bits of +woman's apparel. He advanced soft-footed as a fox and stood a moment +later with his hand on the cloth flap at the wigwam door, his head bent +forward to catch the merest breath of sound. He could hear her +breathing. For an instant his face turned so that the moonlight struck +his eyes. They were aflame with a mad fire. Then, still very quietly, +he drew aside the flap at the door. + +It could not have been sound that roused Baree, hidden in the black +balsam shadow a dozen paces away. Perhaps it was scent. His nostrils +twitched first; then he awoke. For a few seconds his eyes glared at the +bent figure in the tepee door. He knew that it was not Carvel. The old +smell--the man-beast's smell, filled his nostrils like a hated poison. +He sprang to his feet and stood with his lips snarling back slowly from +his long fangs. McTaggart had disappeared. From inside the tepee there +came a sound; a sudden movement of bodies, a startled ejaculation of +one awakening from sleep--and then a cry, a low, half-smothered, +frightened cry, and in response to that cry Baree shot out from under +the balsam with a sound in his throat that had in it the note of death. + + +In the edge of the spruce thicket Carvel rolled uneasily. Strange +sounds were rousing him, cries that in his exhaustion came to him as if +in a dream. At last he sat up, and then in sudden horror leaped to his +feet and rushed toward the tepee. Nepeese was in the open, crying the +name she had given him--"OOKIMOW JEEM--OOKIMOW--JEEM--OOKIMOW JEEM--" +She was standing there white and slim, her eyes with the blaze of the +stars in them, and when she saw Carvel she flung out her arms to him, +still crying: + +"Ookimow Jeem--Oo-oo, Ookimow Jeem--" + +In the tepee he heard the rage of a beast, the moaning cries of a man. +He forgot that it was only last night he had come, and with a cry he +swept the Willow to his breast, and the Willow's arms tightened round +his neck as she moaned: + +"Ookimow Jeem--it is the man-beast--in there! It is the man-beast from +Lac Bain--and Baree--" + +Truth flashed upon Carvel, and he caught Nepeese up in his arms and ran +away with her from the sounds that had grown sickening and horrible. In +the spruce thicket he put her feet once more to the ground. Her arms +were still tight around his neck. He felt the wild terror of her body +as it throbbed against him. Her breath was sobbing, and her eyes were +on his face. He drew her closer, and suddenly he crushed his face down +close against hers and felt for an instant the warm thrill of her lips +against his own. And he heard the whisper, soft and trembling. + +"Ooo-oo, OOKIMOW JEEM--" + +When Carvel returned to the fire, alone, his Colt in his hand, Baree +was in front of the tepee waiting for him. + +Carvel picked up a burning brand and entered the wigwam. When he came +out his face was white. He tossed the brand in the fire, and went back +to Nepeese. He had wrapped her in his blankets, and now he knelt down +beside her and put his arms about her. + +"He is dead, Nepeese." + +"Dead, Ookimow Jeem?" + +"Yes. Baree killed him." + +She did not seem to breathe. Gently, with his lips in her hair. Carvel +whispered his plans for their paradise. + +"No one will know, my sweetheart. Tonight I will bury him and burn the +tepee. Tomorrow we will start for Nelson House, where there is a +missioner. And after that--we will come back--and I will build a new +cabin where the old one burned. DO YOU LOVE ME, KA SAKAHET?" + +"OM'--yes--Ookimow Jeem--I love you--" + +Suddenly there came an interruption. Baree at last was giving his cry +of triumph. It rose to the stars; it wailed over the roofs of the +forests and filled the quiet skies--a wolfish howl of exultation, of +achievement, of vengeance fulfilled. Its echoes died slowly away, and +silence came again. A great peace whispered in the soft breath of the +treetops. Out of the north came the mating call of a loon. About +Carvel's shoulders the Willow's arms crept closer. And Carvel, out of +his heart, thanked God. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Baree, Son of Kazan, by James Oliver Curwood + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAREE, SON OF KAZAN *** + +***** This file should be named 4748.txt or 4748.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/7/4/4748/ + +Produced by Diane Bean. HTML version by Al Haines. + +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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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It is like placing a halter about an unsuspecting reader's +neck and dragging him into paths for which he may have no liking. But +if fact and truth produce in the reader's mind a message for himself, +then a work has been done. That is what I hope for in my nature books. +The American people are not and never have been lovers of wild life. As +a nation we have gone after Nature with a gun. + +And what right, you may ask, has a confessed slaughterer of wild life +such as I have been to complain? None at all, I assure you. I have +twenty-seven guns--and I have used them all. I stand condemned as +having done more than my share toward extermination. But that does not +lessen the fact that I have learned; and in learning I have come to +believe that if boys and girls and men and women could be brought into +the homes and lives of wild birds and animals as their homes are made +and their lives are lived we would all understand at last that wherever +a heart beats it is very much like our own in the final analysis of +things. To see a bird singing on a twig means but little; but to live a +season with that bird, to be with it in courting days, in matehood and +motherhood, to understand its griefs as well as its gladness means a +great deal. And in my books it is my desire to tell of the lives of the +wild things which I know as they are actually lived. It is not my +desire to humanize them. If we are to love wild animals so much that we +do not want to kill them we MUST KNOW THEM AS THEY ACTUALLY LIVE. And +in their lives, in the facts of their lives, there is so much of real +and honest romance and tragedy, so much that makes them akin to +ourselves that the animal biographer need not step aside from the paths +of actuality to hold one's interest. + +Perhaps rather tediously I have come to the few words I want to say +about Baree, the hero of this book. Baree, after all, is only another +Kazan. For it was Kazan I found in the way I have described--a bad dog, +a killer about to be shot to death by his master when chance, and my +own faith in him, gave him to me. + +We traveled together for many thousands of miles through the +northland--on trails to the Barren Lands, to Hudson's Bay and to the +Arctic. Kazan--the bad dog, the half-wolf, the killer--was the best +four-legged friend I ever had. He died near Fort MacPherson, on the +Peel River, and is buried there. And Kazan was the father of Baree; +Gray Wolf, the full-blooded wolf, was his mother. Nepeese, the Willow, +still lives near God's Lake; and it was in the country of Nepeese and +her father that for three lazy months I watched the doings at Beaver +Town, and went on fishing trips with Wakayoo, the bear. Sometimes I +have wondered if old Beaver Tooth himself did not in some way +understand that I had made his colony safe for his people. It was +Pierrot's trapping ground; and to Pierrot--father of Nepeese--I gave my +best rifle on his word that he would not harm my beaver friends for two +years. And the people of Pierrot's breed keep their word. Wakayoo, +Baree's big bear friend, is dead. He was killed as I have described, in +that "pocket" among the ridges, while I was on a jaunt to Beaver Town. +We were becoming good friends and I missed him a great deal. The story +of Pierrot and of his princess wife, Wyola, is true; they are buried +side by side under the tall spruce that stood near their cabin. +Pierrot's murderer, instead of dying as I have told it, was killed in +his attempt to escape the Royal Mounted farther west. When I last saw +Baree he was at Lac Seul House, where I was the guest of Mr. William +Patterson, the factor; and the last word I heard from him was through +my good friend Frank Aldous, factor at White Dog Post, who wrote me +only a few weeks ago that he had recently seen Nepeese and Baree and +the husband of Nepeese, and that the happiness he found in their far +wilderness home made him regret that he was a bachelor. I feel sorry +for Aldous. He is a splendid young Englishman, unattached, and some day +I am going to try and marry him off. I have in mind someone at the +present moment--a fox-trapper's daughter up near the Barren, very +pretty, and educated at a missioner's school; and as Aldous is going +with me on my next trip I may have something to say about them in the +book that is to follow "Baree, Son of Kazan." + +James Oliver Curwood + +Owosso, Michigan + + +CHAPTER 1 + +To Baree, for many days after he was born, the world was a vast gloomy +cavern. + +During these first days of his life his home was in the heart of a +great windfall where Gray Wolf, his blind mother, had found a safe nest +for his babyhood, and to which Kazan, her mate, came only now and then, +his eyes gleaming like strange balls of greenish fire in the darkness. +It was Kazan's eyes that gave to Baree his first impression of +something existing away from his mother's side, and they brought to him +also his discovery of vision. He could feel, he could smell, he could +hear--but in that black pit under the fallen timber he had never seen +until the eyes came. At first they frightened him; then they puzzled +him, and his fear changed to an immense curiosity. He would be looking +straight at them, when all at once they would disappear. This was when +Kazan turned his head. And then they would flash back at him again out +of the darkness with such startling suddenness that Baree would +involuntarily shrink closer to his mother, who always trembled and +shivered in a strange sort of way when Kazan came in. + +Baree, of course, would never know their story. He would never know +that Gray Wolf, his mother, was a full-blooded wolf, and that Kazan, +his father, was a dog. In him nature was already beginning its +wonderful work, but it would never go beyond certain limitations. It +would tell him, in time, that his beautiful wolf mother was blind, but +he would never know of that terrible battle between Gray Wolf and the +lynx in which his mother's sight had been destroyed. Nature could tell +him nothing of Kazan's merciless vengeance, of the wonderful years of +their matehood, of their loyalty, their strange adventures in the great +Canadian wilderness--it could make him only a son of Kazan. + +But at first, and for many days, it was all mother. Even after his eyes +had opened wide and he had found his legs so that he could stumble +about a little in the darkness, nothing existed for Baree but his +mother. When he was old enough to be playing with sticks and moss out +in the sunlight, he still did not know what she looked like. But to him +she was big and soft and warm, and she licked his face with her tongue, +and talked to him in a gentle, whimpering way that at last made him +find his own voice in a faint, squeaky yap. + +And then came that wonderful day when the greenish balls of fire that +were Kazan's eyes came nearer and nearer, a little at a time, and very +cautiously. Heretofore Gray Wolf had warned him back. To be alone was +the first law of her wild breed during mothering time. A low snarl from +her throat, and Kazan had always stopped. But on this day the snarl did +not come. In Gray Wolf's throat it died away in a low, whimpering +sound. A note of loneliness, of gladness, of a great yearning. "It is +all right now," she was saying to Kazan; and Kazan--pausing for a +moment to make sure--replied with an answering note deep in his throat. + +Still slowly, as if not quite sure of what he would find, Kazan came to +them, and Baree snuggled closer to his mother. He heard Kazan as he +dropped down heavily on his belly close to Gray Wolf. He was +unafraid--and mightily curious. And Kazan, too, was curious. He +sniffed. In the gloom his ears were alert. After a little Baree began +to move. An inch at a time he dragged himself away from Gray Wolf's +side. Every muscle in her lithe body tensed. Again her wolf blood was +warning her. There was danger for Baree. Her lips drew back, baring her +fangs. Her throat trembled, but the note in it never came. Out of the +darkness two yards away came a soft, puppyish whine, and the caressing +sound of Kazan's tongue. + +Baree had felt the thrill of his first great adventure. He had +discovered his father. + +This all happened in the third week of Baree's life. He was just +eighteen days old when Gray Wolf allowed Kazan to make the acquaintance +of his son. If it had not been for Gray Wolf's blindness and the memory +of that day on the Sun Rock when the lynx had destroyed her eyes, she +would have given birth to Baree in the open, and his legs would have +been quite strong. He would have known the sun and the moon and the +stars; he would have realized what the thunder meant, and would have +seen the lightning flashing in the sky. But as it was, there had been +nothing for him to do in that black cavern under the windfall but +stumble about a little in the darkness, and lick with his tiny red +tongue the raw bones that were strewn about them. Many times he had +been left alone. He had heard his mother come and go, and nearly always +it had been in response to a yelp from Kazan that came to them like a +distant echo. He had never felt a very strong desire to follow until +this day when Kazan's big, cool tongue caressed his face. In those +wonderful seconds nature was at work. His instinct was not quite born +until then. And when Kazan went away, leaving them alone in darkness, +Baree whimpered for him to come back, just as he had cried for his +mother when now and then she had left him in response to her mate's +call. + +The sun was straight above the forest when, an hour or two after +Kazan's visit, Gray Wolf slipped away. Between Baree's nest and the top +of the windfall were forty feet of jammed and broken timber through +which not a ray of light could break. This blackness did not frighten +him, for he had yet to learn the meaning of light. Day, and not night, +was to fill him with his first great terror. So quite fearlessly, with +a yelp for his mother to wait for him, he began to follow. If Gray Wolf +heard him, she paid no attention to his call, and the sound of the +scraping of her claws on the dead timber died swiftly away. + +This time Baree did not stop at the eight-inch log which had always +shut in his world in that particular direction. He clambered to the top +of it and rolled over on the other side. Beyond this was vast +adventure, and he plunged into it courageously. + +It took him a long time to make the first twenty yards. Then he came to +a log worn smooth by the feet of Gray Wolf and Kazan, and stopping +every few feet to send out a whimpering call for his mother, he made +his way farther and farther along it. As he went, there grew slowly a +curious change in this world of his. He had known nothing but +blackness. And now this blackness seemed breaking itself up into +strange shapes and shadows. Once he caught the flash of a fiery streak +above him--a gleam of sunshine--and it startled him so that he +flattened himself down upon the log and did not move for half a minute. +Then he went on. An ermine squeaked under him. He heard the swift +rustling of a squirrel's feet, and a curious whut-whut-whut that was +not at all like any sound his mother had ever made. He was off the +trail. + +The log was no longer smooth, and it was leading him upward higher and +higher into the tangle of the windfall, and was growing narrower every +foot he progressed. He whined. His soft little nose sought vainly for +the warm scent of his mother. The end came suddenly when he lost his +balance and fell. He let out a piercing cry of terror as he felt +himself slipping, and then plunged downward. He must have been high up +in the windfall, for to Baree it seemed a tremendous fall. His soft +little body thumped from log to log as he shot this way and that, and +when at last he stopped, there was scarcely a breath left in him. But +he stood up quickly on his four trembling legs--and blinked. + +A new terror held Baree rooted there. In an instant the whole world had +changed. It was a flood of sunlight. Everywhere he looked he could see +strange things. But it was the sun that frightened him most. It was his +first impression of fire, and it made his eyes smart. He would have +slunk back into the friendly gloom of the windfall, but at this moment +Gray Wolf came around the end of a great log, followed by Kazan. She +muzzled Baree joyously, and Kazan in a most doglike fashion wagged his +tail. This mark of the dog was to be a part of Baree. Half wolf, he +would always wag his tail. He tried to wag it now. Perhaps Kazan saw +the effort, for he emitted a muffled yelp of approbation as he sat back +on his haunches. + +Or he might have been saying to Gray Wolf: + +"Well, we've got the little rascal out of that windfall at last, +haven't we?" + +For Baree it had been a great day. He had discovered his father--and +the world. + + + +CHAPTER 2 + +And it was a wonderful world--a world of vast silence, empty of +everything but the creatures of the wild. The nearest Hudson's Bay post +was a hundred miles away, and the first town of civilization was a +straight three hundred to the south. Two years before, Tusoo, the Cree +trapper, had called this his domain. It had come down to him, as was +the law of the forests, through generations of forefathers. But Tusoo +had been the last of his worn-out family; he had died of smallpox, and +his wife and his children had died with him. Since then no human foot +had taken up his trails. The lynx had multiplied. The moose and caribou +had gone unhunted by man. The beaver had built their +homes--undisturbed. The tracks of the black bear were as thick as the +tracks of the deer farther south. And where once the deadfalls and +poison baits of Tusoo had kept the wolves thinned down, there was no +longer a menace for these mohekuns of the wilderness. + +Following the sun of this first wonderful day came the moon and the +stars of Baree's first real night. It was a splendid night, and with it +a full red moon sailed up over the forests, flooding the earth with a +new kind of light, softer and more beautiful to Baree. The wolf was +strong in him, and he was restless. He had slept that day in the warmth +of the sun, but he could not sleep in this glow of the moon. He nosed +uneasily about Gray Wolf, who lay flat on her belly, her beautiful head +alert, listening yearningly to the night sounds, and for the tonguing +of Kazan, who had slunk away like a shadow to hunt. + +Half a dozen times, as Baree wandered about near the windfall, he heard +a soft whir over his head, and once or twice he saw gray shadows +floating swiftly through the air. They were the big northern owls +swooping down to investigate him, and if he had been a rabbit instead +of a wolf dog whelp, his first night under the moon and stars would +have been his last; for unlike Wapoos, the rabbit, he was not cautious. +Gray Wolf did not watch him closely. Instinct told her that in these +forests there was no great danger for Baree except at the hands of man. +In his veins ran the blood of the wolf. He was a hunter of all other +wild creatures, but no other creature, either winged or fanged, hunted +him. + +In a way Baree sensed this. He was not afraid of the owls. He was not +afraid of the strange bloodcurdling cries they made in the black spruce +tops. But once fear entered into him, and he scurried back to his +mother. It was when one of the winged hunters of the air swooped down +on a snowshoe rabbit, and the squealing agony of the doomed creature +set his heart thumping like a little hammer. He felt in those cries the +nearness of that one ever-present tragedy of the wild--death. He felt +it again that night when, snuggled close to Gray Wolf, he listened to +the fierce outcry of a wolf pack that was close on the heels of a young +caribou bull. And the meaning of it all, and the wild thrill of it all, +came home to him early in the gray dawn when Kazan returned, holding +between his jaws a huge rabbit that was still kicking and squirming +with life. + +This rabbit was the climax in the first chapter of Baree's education. +It was as if Gray Wolf and Kazan had planned it all out, so that he +might receive his first instruction in the art of killing. When Kazan +had dropped it, Baree approached the big hare cautiously. The back of +Wapoos, the rabbit, was broken. His round eyes were glazed, and he had +ceased to feel pain. But to Baree, as he dug his tiny teeth into the +heavy fur under Wapoos's throat, the hare was very much alive. The +teeth did not go through into the flesh. With puppyish fierceness Baree +hung on. He thought that he was killing. He could feel the dying +convulsions of Wapoos. He could hear the last gasping breaths leaving +the warm body, and he snarled and tugged until finally he fell back +with a mouthful of fur. When he returned to the attack, Wapoos was +quite dead, and Baree continued to bite and snarl until Gray Wolf came +with her sharp fangs and tore the rabbit to pieces. After that followed +the feast. + +So Baree came to understand that to eat meant to kill, and as other +days and nights passed, there grew in him swiftly the hunger for flesh. +In this he was the true wolf. From Kazan he had taken other and +stronger inheritances of the dog. He was magnificently black, which in +later days gave him the name of Kusketa Mohekun--the black wolf. On his +breast was a white star. His right ear was tipped with white. His tail, +at six weeks, was bushy and hung low. It was a wolf's tail. His ears +were Gray Wolf's ears--sharp, short, pointed, always alert. His +foreshoulders gave promise of being splendidly like Kazan's, and when +he stood up he was like the trace dog, except that he always stood +sidewise to the point or object he was watching. This, again, was the +wolf, for a dog faces the direction in which he is looking intently. + +One brilliant night, when Baree was two months old, and when the sky +was filled with stars and a June moon so bright that it seemed scarcely +higher than the tall spruce tops, Baree settled back on his haunches +and howled. It was a first effort. But there was no mistake in the note +of it. It was the wolf howl. But a moment later when Baree slunk up to +Kazan, as if deeply ashamed of his effort, he was wagging his tail in +an unmistakably apologetic manner. And this again was the dog. If +Tusoo, the dead Indian trapper, could have seen him then, he would have +judged him by that wagging of his tail. It revealed the fact that deep +in his heart--and in his soul, if we can concede that he had one--Baree +was a dog. + +In another way Tusoo would have found judgment of him. At two months +the wolf whelp has forgotten how to play. He is a slinking part of the +wilderness, already at work preying on creatures smaller and more +helpless than himself. Baree still played. In his excursions away from +the windfall he had never gone farther than the creek, a hundred yards +from where his mother lay. He had helped to tear many dead and dying +rabbits into pieces. He believed, if he thought upon the matter at all, +that he was exceedingly fierce and courageous. But it was his ninth +week before he felt his spurs and fought his terrible battle with the +young owl in the edge of the thick forest. + +The fact that Oohoomisew, the big snow owl, had made her nest in a +broken stub not far from the windfall was destined to change the whole +course of Baree's life, just as the blinding of Gray Wolf had changed +hers, and a man's club had changed Kazan's. The creek ran close past +the stub, which had been shriven by lightning; and this stub stood in a +still, dark place in the forest, surrounded by tall, black spruce and +enveloped in gloom even in broad day. Many times Baree had gone to the +edge of this mysterious part of the forest and had peered in curiously, +and with a growing desire. + +On this day of his great battle its lure was overpowering. Little by +little he entered into it, his eyes shining brightly and his ears alert +for the slightest sounds that might come out of it. His heart beat +faster. The gloom enveloped him more. He forgot the windfall and Kazan +and Gray Wolf. Here before him lay the thrill of adventure. He heard +strange sounds, but very soft sounds, as if made by padded feet and +downy wings, and they filled him with a thrilling expectancy. Under his +feet there were no grass or weeds or flowers, but a wonderful brown +carpet of soft evergreen needles. They felt good to his feet, and were +so velvety that he could not hear his own movement. + +He was fully three hundred yards from the windfall when he passed +Oohoomisew's stub and into a thick growth of young balsams. And +there--directly in his path--crouched the monster! + +Papayuchisew [Young Owl] was not more than a third as large as Baree. +But he was a terrifying-looking object. To Baree he seemed all head and +eyes. He could see no body at all. Kazan had never brought in anything +like this, and for a full half-minute he remained very quiet, eying it +speculatively. Papayuchisew did not move a feather. But as Baree +advanced, a cautious step at a time, the bird's eyes grew bigger and +the feathers about his head ruffled up as if stirred by a puff of wind. +He came of a fighting family, this little Papayuchisew--a savage, +fearless, and killing family--and even Kazan would have taken note of +those ruffling feathers. + +With a space of two feet between them, the pup and the owlet eyed each +other. In that moment, if Gray Wolf could have been there, she might +have said to Baree: "Use your legs--and run!" And Oohoomisew, the old +owl, might have said to Papayuchisew: "You little fool--use your wings +and fly!" + +They did neither--and the fight began. + +Papayuchisew started it, and with a single wild yelp Baree went back in +a heap, the owlet's beak fastened like a red-hot vise in the soft flesh +at the end of his nose. That one yelp of surprise and pain was Baree's +first and last cry in the fight. The wolf surged in him; rage and the +desire to kill possessed him. As Papayuchisew hung on, he made a +curious hissing sound; and as Baree rolled and gnashed his teeth and +fought to free himself from that amazing grip on his nose, fierce +little snarls rose out of his throat. + +For fully a minute Baree had no use of his jaws. Then, by accident, he +wedged Papayuchisew in a crotch of a low ground shrub, and a bit of his +nose gave way. He might have run then, but instead of that he was back +at the owlet like a flash. Flop went Papayuchisew on his back, and +Baree buried his needlelike teeth in the bird's breast. It was like +trying to bite through a pillow, the feathers fangs, and just as they +were beginning to prick the owlet's skin, Papayuchisew--jabbing a +little blindly with a beak that snapped sharply every time it +closed--got him by the ear. + +The pain of that hold was excruciating to Baree, and he made a more +desperate effort to get his teeth through his enemy's thick armor of +feathers. In the struggle they rolled under the low balsams to the edge +of the ravine through which ran the creek. Over the steep edge they +plunged, and as they rolled and bumped to the bottom, Baree loosed his +hold. Papayuchisew hung valiantly on, and when they reached the bottom +he still had his grip on Baree's ear. + +Baree's nose was bleeding. His ear felt as if it were being pulled from +his head; and in this uncomfortable moment a newly awakened instinct +made Baby Papayuchisew discover his wings as a fighting asset. An owl +has never really begun to fight until he uses his wings, and with a +joyous hissing, Papayuchisew began beating his antagonist so fast and +so viciously that Baree was dazed. He was compelled to close his eyes, +and he snapped blindly. For the first time since the battle began he +felt a strong inclination to get away. He tried to tear himself free +with his forepaws, but Papayuchisew--slow to reason but of firm +conviction--hung to Baree's ear like grim fate. + +At this critical point, when the understanding of defeat was forming +itself swiftly in Baree's mind, chance saved him. His fangs closed on +one of the owlet's tender feet. Papayuchisew gave a sudden squeak. The +ear was free at last--and with a snarl of triumph Baree gave a vicious +tug at Papayuchisew's leg. + +In the excitement of battle he had not heard the rushing tumult of the +creek close under them, and over the edge of a rock Papayuchisew and he +went together, the chill water of the rain-swollen stream muffling a +final snarl and a final hiss of the two little fighters. + + + +CHAPTER 3 + +To Papayuchisew, after his first mouthful of water, the stream was +almost as safe as the air, for he went sailing down it with the +lightness of a gull, wondering in his slow-thinking big head why he was +moving so swiftly and so pleasantly without any effort of his own. + +To Baree it was a different matter. He went down almost like a stone. A +mighty roaring filled his ears; it was dark, suffocating, terrible. In +the swift current he was twisted over and over. For a distance of +twenty feet he was under water. Then he rose to the surface and +desperately began using his legs. It was of little use. He had only +time to blink once or twice and catch a lungful of air when he shot +into a current that was running like a millrace between the butts of +two fallen trees, and for another twenty feet the sharpest eyes could +not have seen hair or hide of him. He came up again at the edge of a +shallow riffle over which the water ran like the rapids at Niagara in +miniature, and for fifty or sixty yards he was flung along like a hairy +ball. From this he was hurled into a deep, cold pool. And then--half +dead--he found himself crawling out on a gravelly bar. + +For a long time Baree lay there in a pool of sunlight without moving. +His ear hurt him; his nose was raw, and burned as if he had thrust it +into fire. His legs and body were sore, and as he began to wander along +the gravel bar, he was quite probably the most wretched pup in the +world. He was also completely turned around. In vain he looked about +him for some familiar mark--something that might guide him back to his +windfall home. Everything was strange. He did not know that the water +had flung him out on the wrong side of the stream, and that to reach +the windfall he would have to cross it again. He whined, but that was +as loud as his voice rose. Gray Wolf could have heard his barking, for +the windfall was not more than two hundred and fifty yards up the +stream. But the wolf in Baree held him silent, except for his low +whining. + +Striking the main shore, Baree began going downstream. This was away +from the windfall, and each step that he took carried him farther and +farther from home. Every little while he stopped and listened. The +forest was deeper. It was growing blacker and more mysterious. Its +silence was frightening. At the end of half an hour Baree would even +have welcomed Papayuchisew. And he would not have fought him--he would +have inquired, if possible, the way back home. + +Baree was fully three-quarters of a mile from the windfall when he came +to a point where the creek split itself into two channels. He had but +one choice to follow--the stream that flowed a little south and east. +This stream did not run swiftly. It was not filled with shimmering +riffles, and rocks about which the water sang and foamed. It grew +black, like the forest. It was still and deep. Without knowing it, +Baree was burying himself deeper and deeper into Tusoo's old trapping +grounds. Since Tusoo had died, they had lain undisturbed except for the +wolves, for Gray Wolf and Kazan had not hunted on this side of the +waterway--and the wolves themselves preferred the more open country for +the chase. + +Suddenly Baree found himself at the edge of a deep, dark pool in which +the water lay still as oil, and his heart nearly jumped out of his body +when a great, sleek, shining creature sprang out from almost under his +nose and landed with a tremendous splash in the center of it. It was +Nekik, the otter. + +The otter had not heard Baree, and in another moment Napanekik, his +wife, came sailing out of a patch of gloom, and behind her came three +little otters, leaving behind them four shimmering wakes in the +oily-looking water. What happened after that made Baree forget for a +few minutes that he was lost. Nekik had disappeared under the surface, +and now he came up directly under his unsuspecting mate with a force +that lifted her half out of the water. Instantly he was gone again, and +Napanekik took after him fiercely. To Baree it did not look like play. +Two of the baby otters had pitched on the third, which seemed to be +fighting desperately. The chill and ache went out of Baree's body. His +blood ran excitedly. He forgot himself, and let out a bark. In a flash +the otters disappeared. For several minutes the water in the pool +continued to rock and heave--and that was all. After a little, Baree +drew himself back into the bushes and went on. + +It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun should still +have been well up in the sky. But it was growing darker steadily, and +the strangeness and fear of it all lent greater speed to Baree's legs. +He stopped every little while to listen, and at one of these intervals +he heard a sound that drew from him a responsive and joyous whine. It +was a distant howl--a wolf's howl--straight ahead of him. Baree was not +thinking of wolves but of Kazan, and he ran through the gloom of the +forest until he was winded. Then he stopped and listened a long time. +The wolf howl did not come again. Instead of it there rolled up from +the west a deep and thunderous rumble. Through the tree-tops there +flashed a vivid streak of lightning. A moaning whisper of wind rode in +advance of the storm. The thunder sounded nearer; and a second flash of +lightning seemed searching Baree out where he stood shivering under a +canopy of great spruce. + +This was his second storm. The first had frightened him terribly, and +he had crawled far back into the shelter of the windfall. The best he +could find now was a hollow under a big root, and into this he slunk, +crying softly. It was a babyish cry, a cry for his mother, for home, +for warmth, for something soft and protecting to nestle up to. And as +he cried, the storm burst over the forest. + +Baree had never before heard so much noise, and he had never seen the +lightning play in such sheets of fire as when this June deluge fell. It +seemed at times as though the whole world were aflame, and the earth +seemed to shake and roll under the crashes of the thunder. He ceased +his crying and made himself as small as he could under the root, which +protected him partly from the terrific beat of the rain which came down +through the treetops in a flood. It was now so black that except when +the lightning ripped great holes in the gloom he could not see the +spruce trunks twenty feet away. Twice that distance from Baree there +was a huge dead stub that stood out like a ghost each time the fires +swept the sky, as if defying the flaming hands up there to strike--and +strike, at last, one of them did! A bluish tongue of snapping flame ran +down the old stub; and as it touched the earth, there came a tremendous +explosion above the treetops. The massive stub shivered, and then it +broke asunder as if cloven by a gigantic ax. It crashed down so close +to Baree that earth and sticks flew about him, and he let out a wild +yelp of terror as he tried to crowd himself deeper into the shallow +hole under the root. + +With the destruction of the old stub the thunder and lightning seemed +to have vented their malevolence. The thunder passed on into the south +and east like the rolling of ten thousand heavy cart wheels over the +roofs of the forest, and the lightning went with it. The rain fell +steadily. The hole in which he had taken shelter was partly filled with +water. He was drenched. His teeth chattered as he waited for the next +thing to happen. + +It was a long wait. When the rain finally stopped, and the sky cleared, +it was night. Through the tops of the trees Baree could have seen the +stars if he had poked out his head and looked upward. But he clung to +his hole. Hour after hour passed. Exhausted, half drowned, footsore, +and hungry, he did not move. At last he fell into a troubled sleep, a +sleep in which every now and then he cried softly and forlornly for his +mother. When he ventured out from under the root it was morning, and +the sun was shining. + +At first Baree could hardly stand. His legs were cramped. Every bone in +his body seemed out of joint. His ear was stiff where the blood had +oozed out of it and hardened, and when he tried to wrinkle his wounded +nose, he gave a sharp little yap of pain. If such a thing were +possible, he looked even worse than he felt. His hair had dried in +muddy patches; he was dirt-stained from end to end; and where yesterday +he had been plump and shiny, he was now as thin and wretched as +misfortune could possibly make him. And he was hungry. He had never +before known what it meant to be really hungry. + +When he went on, continuing in the direction he had been following +yesterday, he slunk along in a disheartened sort of way. His head and +ears were no longer alert, and his curiosity was gone. He was not only +stomach hungry: mother hunger rose above his physical yearning for +something to eat. He wanted his mother as he had never wanted her +before in his life. He wanted to snuggle his shivering little body +close up to her and feel the warm caressing of her tongue and listen to +the mothering whine of her voice. And he wanted Kazan, and the old +windfall, and that big blue spot that was in the sky right over it. As +he followed again along the edge of the creek, he whimpered for them as +a child might grieve. + +The forest grew more open after a time, and this cheered him up a +little. Also the warmth of the sun was taking the ache out of his body. +But he grew hungrier and hungrier. He always had depended entirely on +Kazan and Gray Wolf for food. His parents had, in some ways, made a +great baby of him. Gray Wolf's blindness accounted for this, for since +his birth she had not taken up her hunting with Kazan, and it was quite +natural that Baree should stick close to her, though more than once he +had been filled with a great yearning to follow his father. Nature was +hard at work trying to overcome its handicap now. It was struggling to +impress on Baree that the time had now come when he must seek his own +food. The fact impinged itself upon him slowly but steadily, and he +began to think of the three or four shellfish he had caught and +devoured on the stony creek bar near the windfall. He also remembered +the open clamshell he had found, and the lusciousness of the tender +morsel inside it. A new excitement began to possess him. He became, all +at once, a hunter. + +With the thinning out of the forest the creek grew more shallow. It ran +again over bars of sand and stones, and Baree began to nose along the +edge of the shallows. For a long time he had no success. The few +crayfish that he saw were exceedingly lively and elusive, and all the +clamshells were shut so tight that even Kazan's powerful jaws would +have had difficulty in smashing them. It was almost noon when he caught +his first crayfish, about as big as a man's forefinger. He devoured it +ravenously. The taste of food gave him fresh courage. He caught two +more crayfish during the afternoon. It was almost dusk when he stirred +a young rabbit out from under a cover of grass. If he had been a month +older, he could have caught it. He was still very hungry, for three +crayfish--scattered through the day--had not done much to fill the +emptiness that was growing steadily in him. + +With the approach of night Baree's fears and great loneliness returned. +Before the day had quite gone he found soft bed of sand. Since his +fight with Papayuchisew, he had traveled a long distance, and the rock +under which he made his bed this night was at least eight or nine miles +from the windfall. It was in the open of the creek bottom, with and +when the moon rose, and the stars filled the sky, Baree could look out +and see the water of the stream shimmering in a glow almost as bright +as day. Directly in front of him, running to the water's edge, was a +broad carpet of white sand. Across this sand, half an hour later, came +a huge black bear. + +Until Baree had seen the otters at play in the creek, his conceptions +of the forests had not gone beyond his own kind, and such creatures as +owls and rabbits and small feathered things. The otters had not +frightened him, because he still measured things by size, and Nekik was +not half as big as Kazan. But the bear was a monster beside which Kazan +would have stood a mere pygmy. He was big. If nature was taking this +way of introducing Baree to the fact that there were more important +creatures in the forests than dogs and wolves and owls and crayfish, +she was driving the point home with a little more than necessary +emphasis. For Wakayoo, the bear, weighed six hundred pounds if he +weighed an ounce. He was fat and sleek from a month's feasting on fish. +His shiny coat was like black velvet in the moonlight, and he walked +with a curious rolling motion with his head hung low. The horror grew +when he stopped broadside in the carpet of sand not more than ten feet +from the rock under which Baree was shivering. + +It was quite evident that Wakayoo had caught scent of him in the air. +Baree could hear him sniff--could hear his breathing--caught the +starlight flashing in his reddish-brown eyes as they swung suspiciously +toward the big boulder. If Baree could have known then that he--his +insignificant little self--was making that monster actually nervous and +uneasy, he would have given a yelp of joy. For Wakayoo, in spite of his +size, was somewhat of a coward when it came to wolves. And Baree +carried the wolf scent. It grew stronger in Wakayoo's nose; and just +then, as if to increase whatever nervousness was growing in him, there +came from out of the forest behind him a long and wailing howl. + +With an audible grunt, Wakayoo moved on. Wolves were pests, he argued. +They wouldn't stand up and fight. They'd snap and yap at one's heels +for hours at a time, and were always out of the way quicker than a wink +when one turned on them. What was the use of hanging around where there +were wolves, on a beautiful night like this? He lumbered on decisively. +Baree could hear him splashing heavily through the water of the creek. +Not until then did the wolf dog draw a full breath. It was almost a +gasp. + +But the excitement was not over for the night. Baree had chosen his bed +at a place where the animals came down to drink, and where they crossed +from one of the creek forests to the other. Not long after the bear had +disappeared he heard a heavy crunching in the sand, and hoofs rattling +against stones, and a bull moose with a huge sweep of antlers passed +through the open space in the moonlight. Baree stared with popping +eyes, for if Wakayoo had weighed six hundred pounds, this gigantic +creature whose legs were so long that it seemed to be walking on stilts +weighed at least twice as much. A cow moose followed, and then a calf. + +The calf seemed all legs. It was too much for Baree, and he shoved +himself farther and farther back under the rock until he lay wedged in +like a sardine in a box. And there he lay until morning. + + + +CHAPTER 4 + +When Baree ventured forth from under his rock at the beginning of the +next day, he was a much older puppy than when he met Papayuchisew, the +young owl, in his path near the old windfall. If experience can be made +to take the place of age, he had aged a great deal in the last +forty-eight hours. In fact, he had passed almost out of puppyhood. He +awoke with a new and much broader conception of the world. It was a big +place. It was filled with many things, of which Kazan and Gray Wolf +were not the most important. The monsters he had seen on the moonlit +plot of sand had roused in him a new kind of caution, and the one +greatest instinct of beasts--the primal understanding that it is the +strong that prey upon the weak--was wakening swiftly in him. As yet he +quite naturally measured brute force and the menace of things by size +alone. Thus the bear was more terrible than Kazan, and the moose was +more terrible than the bear. + +It was quite fortunate for Baree that this instinct did not go to the +limit in the beginning and make him understand that his own breed--the +wolf--was most feared of all the creatures, claw, hoof, and wing, of +the forests. Otherwise, like the small boy who thinks he can swim +before he has mastered a stroke, he might somewhere have jumped in +beyond his depth and had his head chewed off. + +Very much alert, with the hair standing up along his spine, and a +little growl in his throat, Baree smelled of the big footprints made by +the bear and the moose. It was the bear scent that made him growl. He +followed the tracks to the edge of the creek. After that he resumed his +wandering, and also his hunt for food. + +For two hours he did not find a crayfish. Then he came out of the green +timber into the edge of a burned-over country. Here everything was +black. The stumps of the trees stood up like huge charred canes. It was +a comparatively fresh "burn" of last autumn, and the ash was still soft +under Baree's feet. Straight through this black region ran the creek, +and over it hung a blue sky in which the sun was shining. It was quite +inviting to Baree. The fox, the wolf, the moose, and the caribou would +have turned back from the edge of this dead country. In another year it +would be good hunting ground, but now it was lifeless. Even the owls +would have found nothing to eat out there. + +It was the blue sky and the sun and the softness of the earth under his +feet that lured Baree. It was pleasant to travel in after his painful +experiences in the forest. He continued to follow the stream, though +there was now little possibility of his finding anything to eat. The +water had become sluggish and dark. The channel was choked with charred +debris that had fallen into it when the forest had burned, and its +shores were soft and muddy. After a time, when Baree stopped and looked +about him, he could no longer see the green timber he had left. He was +alone in that desolate wilderness of charred tree corpses. It was as +still as death, too. Not the chirp of a bird broke the silence. In the +soft ash he could not hear the fall of his own feet. But he was not +frightened. There was the assurance of safety here. + +If he could only find something to eat! That was the master thought +that possessed Baree. Instinct had not yet impressed upon him that this +which he saw all about him was starvation. He went on, seeking +hopefully for food. But at last, as the hours passed, hope began to die +in him. The sun sank westward. The sky grew less blue; a low wind began +to ride over the tops of the stubs, and now and then one of them fell +with a startling crash. + +Baree could go no farther. An hour before dusk he lay down in the open, +weak and starved. The sun disappeared behind the forest. The moon +rolled up from the east. The sky glittered with stars--and all through +the night Baree lay as if dead. When morning came, he dragged himself +to the stream for a drink. With his last strength he went on. It was +the wolf urging him--compelling him to struggle to the last for his +life. The dog in him wanted to lie down and die. But the wolf spark in +him burned stronger. In the end it won. Half a mile farther on he came +again to the green timber. + +In the forests as well as in the great cities fate plays its changing +and whimsical hand. If Baree had dragged himself into the timber half +an hour later he would have died. He was too far gone now to hunt for +crayfish or kill the weakest bird. But he came just as Sekoosew, the +ermine, the most bloodthirsty little pirate of all the wild--was making +a kill. + +That was fully a hundred yards from where Baree lay stretched out under +a spruce, almost ready to give up the ghost. Sekoosew was a mighty +hunter of his kind. His body was about seven inches long, with a tiny +black-tipped tail appended to it, and he weighed perhaps five ounces. A +baby's fingers could have encircled him anywhere between his four legs, +and his little sharp-pointed head with its beady red eyes could slip +easily through a hole an inch in diameter. For several centuries +Sekoosew had helped to make history. It was he--when his pelt was worth +a hundred dollars in king's gold--that lured the first shipload of +gentlemen adventurers over the sea, with Prince Rupert at their head. +It was little Sekoosew who was responsible for the forming of the great +Hudson's Bay Company and the discovery of half a continent. For almost +three centuries he had fought his fight for existence with the trapper. +And now, though he was no longer worth his weight in yellow gold, he +was the cleverest, the fiercest, and the most merciless of all the +creatures that made up his world. + +As Baree lay under his tree, Sekoosew was creeping on his prey. His +game was a big fat spruce hen standing under a thicket of black currant +bushes. The ear of no living thing could have heard Sekoosew's +movement. He was like a shadow--a gray dot here, a flash there, now +hidden behind a stick no larger than a man's wrist, appearing for a +moment, the next instant gone as completely as if he had not existed. +Thus he approached from fifty feet to within three feet of the spruce +hen. That was his favorite striking distance. Unerringly he launched +himself at the drowsy partridge's throat, and his needlelike teeth sank +through feathers into flesh. + +Sekoosew was prepared for what happened then. It always happened when +he attacked Napanao, the wood partridge. Her wings were powerful, and +her first instinct when he struck was always that of flight. She rose +straight up now with a great thunder of wings. Sekoosew hung tight, his +teeth buried deep in her throat, and his tiny, sharp claws clinging to +her like hands. Through the air he whizzed with her, biting deeper and +deeper, until a hundred yards from where that terrible death thing had +fastened to her throat, Napanao crashed again to earth. + +Where she fell was not ten feet from Baree. For a few moments he looked +at the struggling mass of feathers in a daze, not quite comprehending +that at last food was almost within his reach. Napanao was dying, but +she still struggled convulsively with her wings. Baree rose stealthily, +and after a moment in which he gathered all his remaining strength, he +made a rush for her. His teeth sank into her breast--and not until then +did he see Sekoosew. The ermine had raised his head from the death grip +at the partridge's throat, and his savage little red eyes glared for a +single instant into Baree's. Here was something too big to kill, and +with an angry squeak the ermine was gone. Napanao's wings relaxed, and +the throb went out of her body. She was dead. Baree hung on until he +was sure. Then he began his feast. + +With murder in his heart, Sekoosew hovered near, whisking here and +there but never coming nearer than half a dozen feet from Baree. His +eyes were redder than ever. Now and then he emitted a sharp little +squeak of rage. Never had he been so angry in all his life! To have a +fat partridge stolen from him like this was an imposition he had never +suffered before. He wanted to dart in and fasten his teeth in Baree's +jugular. But he was too good a general to make the attempt, too good a +Napoleon to jump deliberately to his Waterloo. An owl he would have +fought. He might even have given battle to his big brother--and his +deadliest enemy--the mink. But in Baree he recognized the wolf breed, +and he vented his spite at a distance. After a time his good sense +returned, and he went off on another hunt. + +Baree ate a third of the partridge, and the remaining two thirds he +cached very carefully at the foot of the big spruce. Then he hurried +down to the creek for a drink. The world looked very different to him +now. After all, one's capacity for happiness depends largely on how +deeply one has suffered. One's hard luck and misfortune form the +measuring stick for future good luck and fortune. So it was with Baree. +Forty-eight hours ago a full stomach would not have made him a tenth +part as happy as he was now. Then his greatest longing was for his +mother. Since then a still greater yearning had come into his life--for +food. In a way it was fortunate for him that he had almost died of +exhaustion and starvation, for his experience had helped to make a man +of him--or a wolf dog, just as you are of a mind to put it. He would +miss his mother for a long time. But he would never miss her again as +he had missed her yesterday and the day before. + +That afternoon Baree took a long nap close to his cache. Then he +uncovered the partridge and ate his supper. When his fourth night alone +came, he did not hide himself as he had done on the three preceding +nights. He was strangely and curiously alert. Under the moon and the +stars he prowled in the edge of the forest and out on the burn. He +listened with a new kind of thrill to the faraway cry of a wolf pack on +the hunt. He listened to the ghostly whoo-whoo-whoo of the owls without +shivering. Sounds and silences were beginning to hold a new and +significant note for him. + +For another day and night Baree remained in the vicinity of his cache. +When the last bone was picked, he moved on. He now entered a country +where subsistence was no longer a perilous problem for him. It was a +lynx country, and where there are lynx, there are also a great many +rabbits. When the rabbits thin out, the lynx emigrate to better hunting +grounds. As the snowshoe rabbit breeds all the summer through, Baree +found himself in a land of plenty. It was not difficult for him to +catch and kill the young rabbits. For a week he prospered and grew +bigger and stronger each day. But all the time, stirred by that +seeking, wanderlust spirit--still hoping to find the old home and his +mother--he traveled into the north and east. + +And this was straight into the trapping country of Pierrot, the +half-breed. + +Pierrot, until two years ago, had believed himself to be one of the +most fortunate men in the big wilderness. That was before La Mort +Rouge--the Red Death--came. He was half French, and he had married a +Cree chief's daughter, and in their log cabin on the Gray Loon they had +lived for many years in great prosperity and happiness. Pierrot was +proud of three things in this wild world of his. He was immensely proud +of Wyola, his royal-blooded wife. He was proud of his daughter; and he +was proud of his reputation as a hunter. Until the Red Death came, life +was quite complete for him. It was then--two years ago--that the +smallpox killed his princess wife. He still lived in the little cabin +on the Gray Loon, but he was a different Pierrot. The heart was sick in +him. It would have died, had it not been for Nepeese, his daughter. His +wife had named her Nepeese, which means the Willow. + +Nepeese had grown up like the willow, slender as a reed, with all her +mother's wild beauty, and with a little of the French thrown in. She +was sixteen, with great, dark, wonderful eyes, and hair so beautiful +that an agent from Montreal passing that way had once tried to buy it. +It fell in two shining braids, each as big as a man's wrist, almost to +her knees. "Non, M'sieu," Pierrot had said, a cold glitter in his eyes +as he saw what was in the agent's face. "It is not for barter." + +Two days after Baree had entered his trapping ground, Pierrot came in +from the forests with a troubled look in his face. + +"Something is killing off the young beavers," he explained to Nepeese, +speaking to her in French. "It is a lynx or a wolf. Tomorrow--" He +shrugged his thin shoulders, and smiled at her. + +"We will go on the hunt," laughed Nepeese happily, in her soft Cree. + +When Pierrot smiled at her like that, and began with "Tomorrow," it +always meant that she might go with him on the adventure he was +contemplating. + + +Still another day later, at the end of the afternoon, Baree crossed the +Gray Loon on a bridge of driftwood that had wedged between two trees. +This was to the north. Just beyond the driftwood bridge there was a +small clearing, and on the edge of it Baree paused to enjoy the last of +the setting sun. As he stood motionless and listening, his tail +drooping low, his ears alert, his sharp-pointed nose sniffing the new +country to the north, there was not a pair of eyes in the forest that +would not have taken him for a young wolf. + +From behind a clump of young balsams, a hundred yards away, Pierrot and +Nepeese had watched him come over the driftwood bridge. Now was the +time, and Pierrot leveled his rifle. It was not until then that Nepeese +touched his arm softly. Her breath came a little excitedly as she +whispered: + +"Nootawe, let me shoot. I can kill him!" + +With a low chuckle Pierrot gave the gun to her. He counted the whelp as +already dead. For Nepeese, at that distance, could send a bullet into +an inch square nine times out of ten. And Nepeese, aiming carefully at +Baree, pressed steadily with her brown forefinger upon the trigger. + + + +CHAPTER 5 + +As the Willow pulled the trigger of her rifle, Baree sprang into the +air. He felt the force of the bullet before he heard the report of the +gun. It lifted him off his feet, and then sent him rolling over and +over as if he had been struck a hideous blow with a club. For a flash +he did not feel pain. Then it ran through him like a knife of fire, and +with that pain the dog in him rose above the wolf, and he let out a +wild outcry of puppyish yapping as he rolled and twisted on the ground. + +Pierrot and Nepeese had stepped from behind the balsams, the Willow's +beautiful eyes shining with pride at the accuracy of her shot. +Instantly she caught her breath. Her brown fingers clutched at the +barrel of her rifle. The chuckle of satisfaction died on Pierrot's lips +as Baree's cries of pain filled the forest. + +"Uchi moosis!" gasped Nepeese, in her Cree. + +Pierrot caught the rifle from her. + +"Diable! A dog--a puppy!" he cried. + +He started on a run for Baree. But in their amazement they had lost a +few seconds and Baree's dazed senses were returning. He saw them +clearly as they came across the open--a new kind of monster of the +forests! With a final wail he darted back into the deep shadows of the +trees. It was almost sunset, and he ran for the thick gloom of the +heavy spruce near the creek. He had shivered at sight of the bear and +the moose, but for the first time he now sensed the real meaning of +danger. And it was close after him. He could hear the crashing of the +two-legged beasts in pursuit; strange cries were almost at his +heels--and then suddenly he plunged without warning into a hole. + +It was a shock to have the earth go out from under his feet like that, +but Baree did not yelp. The wolf was dominant in him again. It urged +him to remain where he was, making no move, no sound--scarcely +breathing. The voices were over him; the strange feet almost stumbled +in the hole where he lay. Looking out of his dark hiding place, he +could see one of his enemies. It was Nepeese, the Willow. She was +standing so that a last glow of the day fell upon her face. Baree did +not take his eyes from her. + +Above his pain there rose in him a strange and thrilling fascination. +The girl put her two hands to her mouth and in a voice that was soft +and plaintive and amazingly comforting to his terrified little heart, +cried: + +"Uchimoo--Uchimoo--Uchimoo!" + +And then he heard another voice; and this voice, too, was far less +terrible than many sounds he had listened to in the forests. + +"We cannot find him, Nepeese," the voice was saying. "He has crawled +off to die. It is too bad. Come." + +Where Baree had stood in the edge of the open Pierrot paused and +pointed to a birch sapling that had been cut clean off by the Willow's +bullet. Nepeese understood. The sapling, no larger than her thumb, had +turned her shot a trifle and had saved Baree from instant death. She +turned again, and called: + +"Uchimoo--Uchimoo--Uchimoo!" + +Her eyes were no longer filled with the thrill of slaughter. + +"He would not understand that," said Pierrot, leading the way across +the open. "He is wild--born of the wolves. Perhaps he was of Koomo's +lead bitch, who ran away to hunt with the packs last winter." + +"And he will die--" + +"Ayetun--yes, he will die." + +But Baree had no idea of dying. He was too tough a youngster to be +shocked to death by a bullet passing through the soft flesh of his +foreleg. That was what had happened. His leg was torn to the bone, but +the bone itself was untouched. He waited until the moon had risen +before he crawled out of his hole. + +His leg had grown stiff, but it had stopped bleeding, though his whole +body was racked by a terrible pain. A dozen Papayuchisews, all holding +right to his ears and nose, could not have hurt him more. Every time he +moved, a sharp twinge shot through him; and yet he persisted in moving. +Instinctively he felt that by traveling away from the hole he would get +away from danger. This was the best thing that could have happened to +him, for a little later a porcupine came wandering along, chattering to +itself in its foolish, good-humored way, and fell with a fat thud into +the hole. Had Baree remained, he would have been so full of quills that +he must surely have died. + +In another way the exercise of travel was good for Baree. It gave his +wound no opportunity to "set," as Pierrot would have said, for in +reality his hurt was more painful than serious. For the first hundred +yards he hobbled along on three legs, and after that he found that he +could use his fourth by humoring it a great deal. He followed the creek +for a half mile. Whenever a bit of brush touched his wound, he would +snap at it viciously, and instead of whimpering when he felt one of the +sharp twinges shooting through him, an angry little growl gathered in +his throat, and his teeth clicked. Now that he was out of the hole, the +effect of the Willow's shot was stirring every drop of wolf blood in +his body. In him there was a growing animosity--a feeling of rage not +against any one thing in particular, but against all things. It was not +the feeling with which he had fought Papayuchisew, the young owl. On +this night the dog in him had disappeared. An accumulation of +misfortunes had descended upon him, and out of these misfortunes--and +his present hurt--the wolf had risen savage and vengeful. + +This was the first time Baree had traveled at night. He was, for the +time, unafraid of anything that might creep up on him out of the +darkness. The blackest shadows had lost their terror. It was the first +big fight between the two natures that were born in him--the wolf and +the dog--and the dog was vanquished. Now and then he stopped to lick +his wound, and as he licked it he growled, as though for the hurt +itself he held a personal antagonism. If Pierrot +could have seen and heard, he would have understood very quickly, and +he would have said: "Let him die. The club will never take that devil +out of him." + +In this humor Baree came, an hour later, out of the heavy timber of the +creek bottom into the more open spaces of a small plain that ran along +the foot of a ridge. It was in this plain that Oohoomisew hunted. +Oohoomisew was a huge snow owl. He was the patriarch among all the owls +of Pierrot's trapping domain. He was so old that he was almost blind, +and therefore he never hunted as other owls hunted. He did not hide +himself in the black cover of spruce and balsam tops, or float softly +through the night, ready in an instant to swoop down upon his prey. His +eyesight was so poor that from a spruce top he could not have seen a +rabbit at all, and he might have mistaken a fox for a mouse. + +So old Oohoomisew, learning wisdom from experience, hunted from ambush. +He would squat on the ground, and for hours at a time he would remain +there without making a sound and scarcely moving a feather, waiting +with the patience of Job for something to eat to come his way. Now and +then he had made mistakes. Twice he had mistaken a lynx for a rabbit, +and in the second attack he had lost a foot, so that when he slumbered +aloft during the day he clung to his perch with one claw. Crippled, +nearly blind, and so old that he had long ago lost the tufts of +feathers over his ears, he was still a giant in strength, and when he +was angry, one could hear the snap of his beak twenty yards away. + +For three nights he had been unlucky, and tonight he had been +particularly unfortunate. Two rabbits had come his way, and he had +lunged at each of them from his cover. The first he had missed +entirely; the second had left with him a mouthful of fur--and that was +all. He was ravenously hungry, and he was gritting his bill in his bad +temper when he heard Baree approaching. + +Even if Baree could have seen under the dark bush ahead, and had +discovered Oohoomisew ready to dart from his ambush, it is not likely +that he would have gone very far aside. His own fighting blood was up. +He, too, was ready for war. + +Very indistinctly Oohoomisew saw him at last, coming across the little +open space which he was watching. He squatted down. His feathers +ruffled up until he was like a ball. His almost sightless eyes glowed +like two bluish pools of fire. Ten feet away, Baree stopped for a +moment and licked his wound. Oohoomisew waited cautiously. Again Baree +advanced, passing within six feet of the bush. With a swift hop and a +sudden thunder of his powerful wings the great owl was upon him. + +This time Baree let out no cry of pain or of fright. The wolf is +kipichi-mao, as the Indians say. No hunter ever heard a trapped wolf +whine for mercy at the sting of a bullet or the beat of a club. He dies +with his fangs bared. Tonight it was a wolf whelp that Oohoomisew was +attacking, and not a dog pup. The owl's first rush keeled Baree over, +and for a moment he was smothered under the huge, outspread wings, +while Oohoomisew--pinioning him down--hopped for a claw hold with his +one good foot, and struck fiercely with his beak. + +One blow of that beak anywhere about the head would have settled for a +rabbit, but at the first thrust Oohoomisew discovered that it was not a +rabbit he was holding under his wings. A bloodcurdling snarl answered +the blow, and Oohoomisew remembered the lynx, his lost foot, and his +narrow escape with his life. The old pirate might have beaten a +retreat, but Baree was no longer the puppyish Baree of that hour in +which he had fought young Papayuchisew. Experience and hardship had +aged and strengthened him. His jaws had passed quickly from the +bone-licking to the bone-cracking age--and before Oohoomisew could get +away, if he was thinking of flight at all, Baree's fangs closed with a +vicious snap on his one good leg. + +In the stillness of night there rose a still greater thunder of wings, +and for a few moments Baree closed his eyes to keep from being blinded +by Oohoomisew's furious blows. But he hung on grimly, and as his teeth +met through the flesh of the old night-pirate's leg, his angry snarl +carried defiance to Oohoomisew's ears. Rare good fortune had given him +that grip on the leg, and Baree knew that triumph or defeat depended on +his ability to hold it. The old owl had no other claw to sink into him, +and it was impossible--caught as he was--for him to tear at Baree with +his beak. So he continued to beat that thunder of blows with his +four-foot wings. + +The wings made a great tumult about Baree, but they did not hurt him. +He buried his fangs deeper. His snarls rose more fiercely as he got the +taste of Oohoomisew's blood, and through him there surged more hotly +the desire to kill this monster of the night, as though in the death of +this creature he had the opportunity of avenging himself for all the +hurts and hardships that had befallen him since he had lost his mother. + +Oohoomisew had never felt a great fear until now. The lynx had snapped +at him but once--and was gone, leaving him crippled. But the lynx had +not snarled in that wolfish way, and it had not hung on. A thousand and +one nights Oohoomisew had listened to the wolf howl. Instinct had told +him what it meant. He had seen the packs pass swiftly through the +night, and always when they passed he had kept in the deepest shadows. +To him, as for all other wild things, the wolf howl stood for death. +But until now, with Baree's fangs buried in his leg, he had never +sensed fully the wolf fear. It had taken it years to enter into his +slow, stupid head--but now that it was there, it possessed him as no +other thing had ever possessed him in all his life. + +Suddenly Oohoomisew ceased his beating and launched himself upward. +Like huge fans his powerful wings churned the air, and Baree felt +himself lifted suddenly from the earth. Still he held on--and in a +moment both bird and beast fell back with a thud. + +Oohoomisew tried again. This time he was more successful, and he rose +fully six feet into the air with Baree. They fell again. A third time +the old outlaw fought to wing himself free of Baree's grip; and then, +exhausted, he lay with his giant wings outspread, hissing and cracking +his bill. + +Under those wings Baree's mind worked with the swift instincts of the +killer. Suddenly he changed his hold, burying his fangs into the under +part of Oohoomisew's body. They sank into three inches of feathers. +Swift as Baree had been, Oohoomisew was equally swift to take advantage +of his opportunity. In an instant he had swooped upward. There was a +jerk, a rending of feathers from flesh--and Baree was alone on the +field of battle. + +Baree had not killed, but he had conquered. His first great day--or +night--had come. The world was filled with a new promise for him, as +vast as the night itself. And after a moment he sat back on his +haunches, sniffing the air for his beaten enemy. Then, as if defying +the feathered monster to come back and fight to the end, he pointed his +sharp little muzzle up to the stars and sent forth his first babyish +wolf howl into the night. + + + +CHAPTER 6 + +Baree's fight with Oohoomisew was good medicine for him. It not only +gave him great confidence in himself, but it also cleared the fever of +ugliness from his blood. He no longer snapped and snarled at things as +he went on through the night. + +It was a wonderful night. The moon was straight overhead, and the sky +was filled with stars, so that in the open spaces the light was almost +like that of day, except that it was softer and more beautiful. It was +very still. There was no wind in the treetops, and it seemed to Baree +that the howl he had given must have echoed to the end of the world. + +Now and then Baree heard a sound--and always he stopped, attentive and +listening. Far away he heard the long, soft mooing of a cow moose. He +heard a great splashing in the water of a small lake that he came to, +and once there came to him the sharp cracking of horn against horn--two +bucks settling a little difference of opinion a quarter of a mile away. +But it was always the wolf howl that made him sit and listen longest, +his heart beating with a strange impulse which he did not as yet +understand. It was the call of his breed, growing in him slowly but +insistently. + +He was still a wanderer--pupamootao, the Indians call it. It is this +"wander spirit" that inspires for a time nearly every creature of the +wild as soon as it is able to care for itself--nature's scheme, +perhaps, for doing away with too close family relations and possibly +dangerous interbreeding. Baree, like the young wolf seeking new hunting +grounds, or the young fox discovering a new world, had no reason or +method in his wandering. He was simply "traveling"--going on. He wanted +something which he could not find. The wolf call brought it to him. + +The stars and the moon filled Baree with a yearning for this something. +The distant sounds impinged upon him his great aloneness. And instinct +told him that only by questing could he find. It was not so much Kazan +and Gray Wolf that he missed now--not so much motherhood and home as it +was companionship. Now that he had fought the wolfish rage out of him +in his battle with Oohoomisew, the dog part of him had come into its +own again--the lovable half of him, the part that wanted to snuggle up +near something that was alive and friendly, small odds whether it wore +feathers or fur, was clawed or hoofed. + +He was sore from the Willow's bullet, and he was sore from battle, and +toward dawn he lay down under a shelter of some alders at the edge of a +second small lake and rested until midday. Then he began questing in +the reeds and close to the pond lilies for food. He found a dead +jackfish, partly eaten by a mink, and finished it. + +His wound was much less painful this afternoon, and by nightfall he +scarcely noticed it at all. Since his almost tragic end at the hands of +Nepeese, he had been traveling in a general northeasterly direction, +following instinctively the run of the waterways. But his progress had +been slow, and when darkness came again he was not more than eight or +ten miles from the hole into which he had fallen after the Willow had +shot him. + +Baree did not travel far this night. The fact that his wound had come +with dusk, and his fight with Oohoomisew still later, filled him with +caution. Experience had taught him that the dark shadows and the black +pits in the forest were possible ambuscades of danger. He was no longer +afraid, as he had once been, but he had had fighting enough for a time, +and so he accepted circumspection as the better part of valor and held +himself aloof from the perils of darkness. It was a strange instinct +that made him seek his bed on the top of a huge rock up which he had +some difficulty in climbing. Perhaps it was a harkening back to the +days of long ago when Gray Wolf, in her first motherhood, sought refuge +at the summit of the Sun Rock which towered high above the forest world +of which she and Kazan were a part, and where later she was blinded in +her battle with the lynx. + +Baree's rock, instead of rising for a hundred feet or more straight up, +was possibly as high as a man's head. It was in the edge of the creek +bottom, with the spruce forest close at his back. For many hours he did +not sleep, but lay keenly alert, his ears tuned to catch every sound +that came out of the dark world about him. There was more than +curiosity in his alertness tonight. His education had broadened +immensely in one way: he had learned that he was a very small part of +all this wonderful earth that lay under the stars and the moon, and he +was keenly alive with the desire to become better acquainted with it +without any more fighting or hurt. Tonight he knew what it meant when +he saw now and then gray shadows float silently out of the forest into +the moonlight--the owls, monsters of the breed with which he had +fought. He heard the crackling of hoofed feet and the smashing of heavy +bodies in the underbrush. He heard again the mooing of the moose. +Voices came to him that he had not heard before--the sharp yap-yap-yap +of a fox, the unearthly, laughing cry of a great Northern loon on a +lake half a mile away, the scream of a lynx that came floating through +miles of forest, the low, soft croaks of the nighthawks between himself +and the stars. He heard strange whisperings in the +treetops--whisperings of the wind. And once, in the heart of a dead +stillness, a buck whistled shrilly close behind his rock--and at the +wolf scent in the air shot away in a terror-stricken gray streak. + +All these sounds held their new meaning for Baree. Swiftly he was +coming into his knowledge of the wilderness. His eyes gleamed; his +blood thrilled. Often for many minutes at a time he scarcely moved. But +of all the sounds that came to him, the wolf cry thrilled him most. +Again and again he listened to it. At times it was far away, so far +that it was like a whisper, dying away almost before it reached him. +Then again it would come to him full-throated, hot with the breath of +the chase, calling him to the red thrill of the hunt, to the wild orgy +of torn flesh and running blood--calling, calling, calling. That was +it, calling him to his own kin, to the bone of his bone and the flesh +of his flesh--to the wild, fierce hunting packs of his mother's tribe! +It was Gray Wolf's voice seeking for him in the night--Gray Wolf's +blood inviting him to the Brotherhood of the Pack. + +Baree trembled as he listened. In his throat he whined softly. He edged +to the sheer face of the rock. He wanted to go; nature was urging him +to go. But the call of the wild was struggling against odds. For in him +was the dog, with its generations of subdued and sleeping +instincts--and all that night the dog in him kept Baree to the top of +his rock. + +Next morning Baree found many crayfish along the creek, and he feasted +on their succulent flesh until he felt that he would never be hungry +again. Nothing had tasted quite so good since he had eaten the +partridge of which he had robbed Sekoosew the ermine. + +In the middle of the afternoon Baree came into a part of the forest +that was very quiet and very peaceful. The creek had deepened. In +places its banks swept out until they formed small ponds. Twice he made +considerable detours to get around these ponds. He traveled very +quietly, listening and watching. Not since the ill-fated day he had +left the old windfall had he felt quite so much at home as now. It +seemed to him that at last he was treading country which he knew, and +where he would find friends. Perhaps this was another miracle mystery +of instinct--of nature. For he was in old Beaver Tooth's domain. It was +here that his father and mother had hunted in the days before he was +born. It was not far from here that Kazan and Beaver Tooth had fought +that mighty duel under water, from which Kazan had escaped with his +life without another breath to lose. + +Baree would never know these things. He would never know that he was +traveling over old trails. But something deep in him gripped him +strangely. He sniffed the air, as if in it he found the scent of +familiar things. It was only a faint breath--an indefinable promise +that brought him to the point of a mysterious anticipation. + +The forest grew deeper. It was wonderful virgin forest. There was no +undergrowth, and traveling under the trees was like being in a vast, +mystery-filled cavern through the roof of which the light of day broke +softly, brightened here and there by golden splashes of the sun. For a +mile Baree made his way quietly through this forest. He saw nothing but +a few winged flirtings of birds; there was almost no sound. Then he +came to a still larger pond. Around this pond there was a thick growth +of alders and willows where the larger trees had thinned out. He saw +the glimmer of afternoon sunlight on the water--and then, all at once, +he heard life. + +There had been few changes in Beaver Tooth's colony since the days of +his feud with Kazan and the otters. Old Beaver Tooth was somewhat +older. He was fatter. He slept a great deal, and perhaps he was less +cautious. He was dozing on the great mud-and-brushwood dam of which he +had been engineer-in-chief, when Baree came out softly on a high bank +thirty or forty feet away. So noiseless had Baree been that none of the +beavers had seen or heard him. He squatted himself flat on his belly, +hidden behind a tuft of grass, and with eager interest watched every +movement. Beaver Tooth was rousing himself. He stood on his short legs +for a moment; then he tilted himself up on his broad, flat tail like a +soldier at attention, and with a sudden whistle dived into the pond +with a great splash. + +In another moment it seemed to Baree that the pond was alive with +beavers. Heads and bodies appeared and disappeared, rushing this way +and that through the water in a manner that amazed and puzzled him. It +was the colony's evening frolic. Tails hit the water like flat boards. +Odd whistlings rose above the splashing--and then as suddenly as it had +begun, the play came to an end. There were probably twenty beavers, not +counting the young, and as if guided by a common signal--something +which Baree had not heard--they became so quiet that hardly a sound +could be heard in the pond. A few of them sank under the water and +disappeared entirely, but most of them Baree could watch as they drew +themselves out on shore. + +The beavers lost no time in getting at their labor, and Baree watched +and listened without so much as rustling a blade of the grass in which +he was concealed. He was trying to understand. He was striving to place +these curious and comfortable-looking creatures in his knowledge of +things. They did not alarm him; he felt no uneasiness at their number +or size. His stillness was not the quiet of discretion, but rather of a +strange and growing desire to get better acquainted with this curious +four-legged brotherhood of the pond. Already they had begun to make the +big forest less lonely for him. And then, close under him--not more +than ten feet from where he lay--he saw something that almost gave +voice to the puppyish longing for companionship that was in him. + +Down there, on a clean strip of the shore that rose out of the soft mud +of the pond, waddled fat little Umisk and three of his playmates. Umisk +was just about Baree's age, perhaps a week or two younger. But he was +fully as heavy, and almost as wide as he was long. Nature can produce +no four-footed creature that is more lovable than a baby beaver, unless +it is a baby bear; and Umisk would have taken first prize at any beaver +baby show in the world. His three companions were a bit smaller. They +came waddling from behind a low willow, making queer little chuckling +noises, their little flat tails dragging like tiny sledges behind them. +They were fat and furry, and mighty friendly looking to Baree, and his +heart beat a sudden swift-pit-a-pat of joy. + +But Baree did not move. He scarcely breathed. And then, suddenly, Umisk +turned on one of his playmates and bowled him over. Instantly the other +two were on Umisk, and the four little beavers rolled over and over, +kicking with their short feet and spatting with their tails, and all +the time emitting soft little squeaking cries. Baree knew that it was +not fight but frolic. He rose up on his feet. He forgot where he +was--forgot everything in the world but those playing, furry balls. For +the moment all the hard training nature had been giving him was lost. +He was no longer a fighter, no longer a hunter, no longer a seeker +after food. He was a puppy, and in him there rose a desire that was +greater than hunger. He wanted to go down there with Umisk and his +little chums and roll and play. He wanted to tell them, if such a thing +were possible, that he had lost his mother and his home, and that he +had been having a mighty hard time of it, and that he would like to +stay with them and their mothers and fathers if they didn't mind. + +In his throat there came the least bit of a whine. It was so low that +Umisk and his playmates did not hear it. They were tremendously busy. + +Softly Baree took his first step toward them, and then another--and at +last he stood on the narrow strip of shore within half a dozen feet of +them. His sharp little ears were pitched forward, and he was wiggling +his tail as fast as he could, and every muscle in his body was +trembling in anticipation. + +It was then that Umisk saw him, and his fat little body became suddenly +as motionless as a stone. + +"Hello!" said Baree, wiggling his whole body and talking as plainly as +a human tongue could talk. "Do you care if I play with you?" + +Umisk made no response. His three playmates now had their eyes on +Baree. They didn't make a move. They looked stunned. Four pairs of +staring, wondering eyes were fixed on the stranger. + +Baree made another effort. He groveled on his forelegs, while his tail +and hind legs continued to wiggle, and with a sniff he grabbed a bit of +stick between his teeth. + +"Come on--let me in," he urged. "I know how to play!" + +He tossed the stick in the air as if to prove what he was saying, and +gave a little yap. + +Umisk and his brothers were like dummies. + +And then, of a sudden, someone saw Baree. It was a big beaver swimming +down the pond with a sapling timber for the new dam that was under way. +Instantly he loosed his hold and faced the shore. And then, like the +report of a rifle, there came the crack of his big flat tail on the +water--the beaver's signal of danger that on a quiet night can be heard +half a mile away. + +"DANGER," it warned. "DANGER--DANGER-- DANGER!" + +Scarcely had the signal gone forth when tails were cracking in all +directions--in the pond, in the hidden canals, in the thick willows and +alders. To Umisk and his companions they said: + +"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" + +Baree stood rigid and motionless now. In amazement he watched the four +little beavers plunge into the pond and disappear. He heard the sounds +of other and heavier bodies striking the water. And then there followed +a strange and disquieting silence. Softly Baree whined, and his whine +was almost a sobbing cry. Why had Umisk and his little mates run away +from him? What had he done that they didn't want to make friends with +him? A great loneliness swept over him--a loneliness greater even than +that of his first night away from his mother. The last of the sun faded +out of the sky as he stood there. Darker shadows crept over the pond. +He looked into the forest, where night was gathering--and with another +whining cry he slunk back into it. He had not found friendship. He had +not found comradeship. And his heart was very sad. + + + +CHAPTER 7 + +For two or three days Baree's excursions after food took him farther +and farther away from the pond. But each afternoon he returned to +it--until the third day, when he discovered a new creek, and Wakayoo. +The creek was fully two miles back in the forest. This was a different +sort of stream. It sang merrily over a gravelly bed and between chasm +walls of split rock. It formed deep pools and foaming eddies, and where +Baree first struck it, the air trembled with the distant thunder of a +waterfall. It was much pleasanter than the dark and silent beaver +stream. It seemed possessed of life, and the rush and tumult of it--the +song and thunder of the water--gave to Baree entirely new sensations. +He made his way along it slowly and cautiously, and it was because of +this slowness and caution that he came suddenly and unobserved upon +Wakayoo, the big black bear, hard at work fishing. + +Wakayoo stood knee-deep in a pool that had formed behind a sand bar, +and he was having tremendously good luck. Even as Baree shrank back, +his eyes popping at sight of this monster he had seen but once before, +in the gloom of night, one of Wakayoo's big paws sent a great splash of +water high in the air, and a fish landed on the pebbly shore. A little +while before, the suckers had run up the creek in thousands to spawn, +and the rapid lowering of the water had caught many of them in these +prison pools. Wakayoo's fat, sleek body was evidence of the prosperity +this circumstance had brought him. Although it was a little past the +"prime" season for bearskins, Wakayoo's coat was splendidly thick and +black. + +For a quarter of an hour Baree watched him while he knocked fish out of +the pool. When at last he stopped, there were twenty or thirty fish +among the stones, some of them dead and others still flopping. From +where he lay flattened out between two rocks, Baree could hear the +crunching of flesh and bone as the bear devoured his dinner. It sounded +good, and the fresh smell of fish filled him with a craving that had +never been roused by crayfish or even partridge. + +In spite of his fat and his size, Wakayoo was not a glutton, and after +he had eaten his fourth fish he pawed all the others together in a +pile, partly covered them by raking up sand and stones with his long +claws, and finished his work of caching by breaking down a small balsam +sapling so that the fish were entirely concealed. Then he lumbered +slowly away in the direction of the rumbling waterfall. + +Twenty seconds after the last of Wakayoo had disappeared in a turn of +the creek, Baree was under the broken balsam. He dragged out a fish +that was still alive. He ate the whole of it, and it tasted delicious. + +Baree now found that Wakayoo had solved the food problem for him, and +this day he did not return to the beaver pond, nor the next. The big +bear was incessantly fishing up and down the creek, and day after day +Baree continued his feasts. It was not difficult for him to find +Wakayoo's caches. All he had to do was to follow along the shore of the +stream, sniffing carefully. Some of the caches were getting old, and +their perfume was anything but pleasant to Baree. These he avoided--but +he never missed a meal or two out of a fresh one. + +For a week life continued to be exceedingly pleasant. And then came the +break--the change that was destined to meant for Kazan, his father, +when he killed the man-brute at the edge of the wilderness. + +This change came or the day when, in trotting around a great rock near +the waterfall, Baree found himself face to face with Pierrot the hunter +and Nepeese, the star-eyed girl who had shot him in the edge of the +clearing. + +It was Nepeese whom he saw first. If it had been Pierrot, he would have +turned back quickly. But again the blood of his forebear was rousing +strange tremblings within him. Was it like this that the first woman +had looked to Kazan? + +Baree stood still. Nepeese was not more than twenty feet from him. She +sat on a rock, full in the early morning sun, and was brushing out her +wonderful hair. Her lips parted. Her eyes shone in an instant like +stars. One hand remained poised, weighted with the jet tresses. She +recognized him. She saw the white star on his breast and the white tip +on his ear, and under her breath she whispered "Uchi moosis!"--"The dog +pup!" It was the wild dog she had shot--and thought had died! + +The evening before Pierrot and Nepeese had built a shelter of balsams +behind the big rock, and on a small white plot of sand Pierrot was +kneeling over a fire preparing breakfast while the Willow arranged her +hair. He raised his head to speak to her, and saw Baree. In that +instant the spell was broken. Baree saw the man-beast as he rose to his +feet. Like a shot he was gone. + +Scarcely swifter was he than Nepeese. + +"Depechez vous, mon pere!" she cried. "It is the dog pup! Quick--" + +In the floating cloud of her hair she sped after Baree like the wind. +Pierrot followed, and in going he caught up his rifle. It was difficult +for him to catch up with the Willow. She was like a wild spirit, her +little moccasined feet scarcely touching the sand as she ran up the +long bar. It was wonderful to see the lithe swiftness of her, and that +glorious hair streaming out in the sun. Even now, in this moment's +excitement, it made Pierrot think of McTaggart, the Hudson's Bay +Company's factor over at Lac Bain, and what he had said yesterday. Half +the night Pierrot had lain awake, gritting his teeth at thought of it. +And this morning, before Baree ran upon them, he had looked at Nepeese +more closely than ever before in his life. She was beautiful. She was +lovelier even than Wyola, her princess mother, who was dead. That +hair--which made men stare as if they could not believe! Those +eyes--like pools filled with wonderful starlight! Her slimness, that +was like a flower! And McTaggart had said-- + +Floating back to him there came an excited cry. + +"Hurry, Nootawe! He has turned into the blind canyon. He cannot escape +us now." + +She was panting when he came up to her. The French blood in her glowed +a vivid crimson in her cheeks and lips. Her white teeth gleamed like +pearls. + +"In there!" And she pointed. + +They went in. + +Ahead of them Baree was running for his life. He sensed instinctively +the fact that these wonderful two-legged beings he had looked upon were +all-powerful. And they were after him! He could hear them. Nepeese was +following almost as swiftly as he could run. Suddenly he turned into a +cleft between two great rocks. Twenty feet in, his way was barred, and +he ran back. When he darted out, straight up the canyon, Nepeese was +not a dozen yards behind him, and he saw Pierrot almost at her side. +The Willow gave a cry. + +"Mana--mana--there he is!" + +She caught her breath, and darted into a copse of young balsams where +Baree had disappeared. Like a great entangling web her loose hair +impeded her in the brush, and with an encouraging cry to Pierrot she +stopped to gather it over her shoulder as he ran past her. She lost +only a moment or two, and then once again was after him. Fifty yards +ahead of her Pierrot gave a warning shout. Baree had turned. Almost in +the same breath he was tearing over his back trail, directly toward the +Willow. He did not see her in time to stop or swerve aside, and Nepeese +flung herself down in his path. For an instant or two they were +together. Baree felt the smother of her hair, and the clutch of her +hands. Then he squirmed away and darted again toward the blind end of +the canyon. + +Nepeese sprang to her feet. She was panting--and laughing. Pierrot came +back wildly, and the Willow pointed beyond him. + +"I had him--and he didn't bite!" she said, breathing swiftly. She still +pointed to the end of the canyon, and she said again: "I had him--and +he didn't bite me, Nootawe!" + +That was the wonder of it. She had been reckless--and Baree had not +bitten her! It was then, with her eyes shining at Pierrot, and the +smile fading slowly from her lips, that she spoke softly the word +"Baree," which in her tongue meant "the wild dog"--a little brother of +the wolf. + +"Come," cried Pierrot, "or we will lose him!" + +Pierrot was confident. The canyon had narrowed. Baree could not get +past them unseen. Three minutes later Baree came to the blind end of +the canyon--a wall of rock that rose straight up like the curve of a +dish. Feasting on fish and long hours of sleep had fattened him, and he +was half winded as he sought vainly for an exit. He was at the far end +of the dishlike curve of rock, without a bush or a clump of grass to +hide him, when Pierrot and Nepeese saw him again. Nepeese made straight +toward him. Pierrot, foreseeing what Baree would do, hurried to the +left, at right angles to the end of the canyon. + +In and out among the rocks Baree sought swiftly for a way of escape. In +a moment more he had come to the "box," or cup of the canyon. This was +a break in the wall, fifty or sixty feet wide, which opened into a +natural prison about an acre in extent. It was a beautiful spot. On all +sides but that leading into the coulee it was shut in by walls of rock. +At the far end a waterfall broke down in a series of rippling cascades. +The grass was thick underfoot and strewn with flowers. In this trap +Pierrot had got more than one fine haunch of venison. From it there was +no escape, except in the face of his rifle. He called to Nepeese as he +saw Baree entering it, and together they climbed the slope. + +Baree had almost reached the edge of the little prison meadow when +suddenly he stopped himself so quickly that he fell back on his +haunches and his heart jumped up into his throat. + +Full in his path stood Wakayoo, the huge black bear! + +For perhaps a half-minute Baree hesitated between the two perils. He +heard the voices of Nepeese and Pierrot. He caught the rattle of stones +under their feet. And he was filled with a great dread. Then he looked +at Wakayoo. The big bear had not moved an inch. He, too, was listening. +But to him there was a thing more disturbing than the sounds he heard. +It was the scent which he caught in the air--the man scent. + +Baree, watching him, saw his head swing slowly even as the footsteps of +Nepeese and Pierrot became more and more distinct. It was the first +time Baree had ever stood face to face with the big bear. He had +watched him fish; he had fattened on Wakayoo's prowess; he had held him +in splendid awe. Now there was something about the bear that took away +his fear and gave him in its place a new and thrilling confidence. +Wakayoo, big and powerful as he was, would not run from the two-legged +creatures who pursued him! If Baree could only get past Wakayoo he was +safe! + +Baree darted to one side and ran for the open meadow. Wakayoo did not +stir as Baree sped past him--no more than if he had been a bird or a +rabbit. Then came another breath of air, heavy with the scent of man. +This, at last, put life into him. He turned and began lumbering after +Baree into the meadow trap. Baree, looking back, saw him coming--and +thought it was pursuit. Nepeese and Pierrot came over the slope, and at +the same instant they saw both Wakayoo and Baree. + +Where they entered into the grassy dip under the rock walls, Baree +turned sharply to the right. Here was a great boulder, one end of it +tilted up off the earth. It looked like a splendid hiding place, and +Baree crawled under it. + +But Wakayoo kept straight ahead into the meadow. + +From where he lay Baree could see what happened. Scarcely had he +crawled under the rock when Nepeese and Pierrot appeared through the +break in the dip, and stopped. The fact that they stopped thrilled +Baree. They were afraid of Wakayoo! The big bear was two thirds of the +way across the meadow. The sun fell on him, so that his coat shone like +black satin. Pierrot stared at him for a moment. Pierrot did not kill +for the love of killing. Necessity made him a conservationist. But he +saw that in spite of the lateness of the season, Wakayoo's coat was +splendid--and he raised his rifle. + +Baree saw this action. He saw, a moment later, something spit from the +end of the gun, and then he heard that deafening crash that had come +with his own hurt, when the Willow's bullet had burned through his +flesh. He turned his eyes swiftly to Wakayoo. The big bear had +stumbled; he was on his knees. And then he struggled to his feet and +lumbered on. + +The roar of the rifle came again, and a second time Wakayoo went down. +Pierrot could not miss at that distance. Wakayoo made a splendid mark. +It was slaughter. Yet for Pierrot and Nepeese it was business--the +business of life. + +Baree was shivering. It was more from excitement than fear, for he had +lost his own fear in the tragedy of these moments. A low whine rose in +his throat as he looked at Wakayoo, who had risen again and faced his +enemies--his jaws gaping, his head swinging slowly, his legs weakening +under him as the blood poured through his torn lungs. Baree +whined--because Wakayoo had fished for him, because he had come to look +on him as a friend, and because he knew it was death that Wakayoo was +facing now. There was a third shot--the last. Wakayoo sank down in his +tracks. His big head dropped between his forepaws. A racking cough or +two came to Baree's ears. And then there was silence. It was +slaughter--but business. + +A minute later, standing over Wakayoo, Pierrot said to Nepeese: + +"Mon dieu, but it is a fine skin, Sakahet! It is worth twenty dollars +over at Lac Bain!" + +He drew forth his knife and began whetting it on a stone which he +carried in his pocket. In these minutes Baree might have crawled out +from under his rock and escaped down the canyon; for a space he was +forgotten. Then Nepeese thought of him, and in that same strange, +wondering voice she spoke again the word "Baree." Pierrot, who was +kneeling, looked up at her. + +"Oui, Sakahet. He was born of the wild. And now he is gone--" + +The Willow shook her head. + +"Non, he is not gone," she said, and her dark eyes searched the sunlit +meadow. + + + +CHAPTER 8 + +As Nepeese gazed about the rock-walled end of the canyon, the prison +into which they had driven Wakayoo and Baree, Pierrot looked up again +from his skinning of the big black bear, and he muttered something that +no one but himself could have heard. "Non, it is not possible," he had +said a moment before; but to Nepeese it was possible--the thought that +was in her mind. It was a wonderful thought. It thrilled her to the +depth of her wild, young soul. It sent a glow into her eyes and a +deeper flush of excitement into her cheeks and lips. + +As she searched the ragged edges of the little meadow for signs of the +dog pup, her thoughts flashed back swiftly. Two years ago they had +buried her princess mother under the tall spruce near their cabin. That +day Pierrot's sun had set for all time, and her own life became filled +with a vast loneliness. There had been three at the graveside that +afternoon as the sun went down--Pierrot, herself, and a dog, a great, +powerful husky with a white star on his breast and a white-tipped ear. +He had been her dead mother's pet from puppyhood--her bodyguard, with +her always, even with his head resting on the side of her bed as she +died. And that night, the night of the day they buried her, the dog had +disappeared. He had gone as quietly and as completely as her spirit. No +one ever saw him after that. It was strange, and to Pierrot it was a +miracle. Deep in his heart he was filled with the wonderful conviction +that the dog had gone with his beloved Wyola into heaven. + +But Nepeese had spent three winters at the missioner's school at Nelson +House. She had learned a great deal about white people and the real +God, and she knew that Pierrot's idea was impossible. She believed that +her mother's husky was either dead or had joined the wolves. Probably +he had gone to the wolves. So--was it not possible that this youngster +she and her father had pursued was of the flesh and blood of her +mother's pet? It was more than possible. The white star on his breast, +the white-tipped ear--the fact that he had not bitten her when he might +easily have buried his fangs in the soft flesh of her arms! She was +convinced. While Pierrot skinned the bear, she began hunting for Baree. + +Baree had not moved an inch from under his rock. He lay like a thing +stunned, his eyes fixed steadily on the scene of the tragedy out in the +meadow. He had seen something that he would never forget--even as he +would never quite forget his mother and Kazan and the old windfall. He +had witnessed the death of the creature he had thought all-powerful. +Wakayoo, the big bear, had not even put up a fight. Pierrot and Nepeese +had killed him WITHOUT TOUCHING HIM. Now Pierrot was cutting him with a +knife which shot silvery flashes in the sun; and Wakayoo made no +movement. It made Baree shiver, and he drew himself an inch farther +back under the rock, where he was already wedged as if he had been +shoved there by a strong hand. + +He could see Nepeese. She came straight back to the break through which +his flight had taken him, and stood at last not more than twenty feet +from where he was hidden. Now that she stood where he could not escape, +she began weaving her shining hair into two thick braids. Baree had +taken his eyes from Pierrot, and he watched her curiously. He was not +afraid now. His nerves tingled. In him a strange and growing force was +struggling to solve a great mystery--the reason for his desire to creep +out from under his rock and approach that wonderful creature with the +shining eyes and the beautiful hair. + +Baree wanted to approach. It was like an invisible string tugging at +his very heart. It was Kazan, and not Gray Wolf, calling to him back +through the centuries, a "call" that was as old as the Egyptian +pyramids and perhaps ten thousand years older. But against that desire +Gray Wolf was pulling from out the black ages of the forests. The wolf +held him quiet and motionless. Nepeese was looking about her. She was +smiling. For a moment her face was turned toward him, and he saw the +white shine of her teeth, and her beautiful eyes seemed glowing +straight at him. + +And then, suddenly, she dropped on her knees and peered under the rock. + +Their eyes met. For at least half a minute there was not a sound. +Nepeese did not move, and her breath came so softly that Baree could +not hear it. + +Then she said, almost in a whisper: + +"Baree! Baree! Upi Baree!" + +It was the first time Baree had heard his name, and there was something +so soft and assuring in the sound of it that in spite of himself the +dog in him responded to it in a whimper that just reached the Willow's +ears. Slowly she stretched in an arm. It was bare and round and soft. +He might have darted forward the length of his body and buried his +fangs in it easily. But something held him back. He knew that it was +not an enemy. He knew that the dark eyes shining at him so wonderfully +were not filled with the desire to harm--and the voice that came to him +softly was like a strange and thrilling music. + +"Baree! Baree! Upi Baree!" + +Over and over again the Willow called to him like that, while on her +face she tried to draw herself a few inches farther under the rock. She +could not reach him. There was still a foot between her hand and Baree, +and she could not wedge herself forward an inch more. And then she saw +where on the other side of the rock there was a hollow, shut in by a +stone. If she had removed the stone, and come in that way-- + +She drew herself out and stood once more in the sunshine. Her heart +thrilled. Pierrot was busy over his bear--and she would not call him. +She made an effort to move the stone which closed in the hollow under +the big boulder, but it was wedged in tightly. Then she began digging +with a stick. If Pierrot had been there, his sharp eyes would have +discovered the significance of that stone, which was not larger than a +water pail. Possibly for centuries it had lain there, its support +keeping the huge rock from toppling down, just as an ounce weight may +swing the balance of a wheel that weighs a ton. + +Five minutes--and Nepeese could move the stone. She tugged at it. Inch +by inch she dragged it out until at last it lay at her feet and the +opening was ready for her body. She looked again toward Pierrot. He was +still busy, and she laughed softly as she untied a big red-and-white +Bay handkerchief from about her shoulders. With this she would secure +Baree. She dropped on her hands and knees and then lowered herself flat +on the ground and began crawling into the hollow under the boulder. + +Baree had moved. With the back of his head flattened against the rock, +he had heard something which Nepeese had not heard. He had felt a slow +and growing pressure, and from this pressure he had dragged himself +slowly--and the pressure still followed. The mass of rock was settling! +Nepeese did not see or hear or understand. She was calling to him more +and more pleadingly: + +"Baree--Baree--Baree--" + +Her head and shoulders and both arms were under the rock now. The glow +of her eyes was very close to Baree. He whined. The thrill of a great +and impending danger stirred in his blood. And then-- + +In that moment Nepeese felt the pressure of the rock on her shoulder, +and into the eyes that had been glowing softly at Baree there shot a +sudden wild look of horror. And then there came from her lips a cry +that was not like any other sound Baree had ever heard in the +wilderness--wild, piercing, filled with agonized fear. Pierrot did not +hear that first cry. But he heard the second and the third--and then +scream after scream as the Willow's tender body was slowly crushed +under the settling mass. He ran toward it with the speed of the wind. +The cries were now weaker--dying away. He saw Baree as he came out from +under the rock and ran into the canyon, and in the same instant he saw +a part of the Willow's dress and her moccasined feet. The rest of her +was hidden under the deathtrap. Like a madman Pierrot began digging. + +When a few moments later he drew Nepeese out from under the boulder she +was white and deathly still. Her eyes were closed. His hand could not +feel that she was living, and a great moan of anguish rose out of his +soul. But he knew how to fight for a life. He tore open her dress and +found that she was not crushed as he had feared. Then he ran for water. +When he returned, the Willow's eyes were open and she was gasping for +breath. + +"The blessed saints be praised!" sobbed Pierrot, falling on his knees +at her side. "Nepeese, ma Nepeese!" + +She smiled at him, and Pierrot drew her up to him, forgetting the water +he had run so hard to get. + +Still later, when he got down on his knees and peered under the rock, +his face turned white and he said: + +"Mon Dieu, if it had not been for that little hollow in the earth, +Nepeese--" + +He shuddered, and said no more. But Nepeese, happy in her salvation, +made a movement with her hand and said, smiling at him: + +"I would have been like--THAT." And she held her thumb and forefinger +close together. + +"But where did Baree go, mon pere?" Nepeese cried. + + + +CHAPTER 9 + +Impelled by the wild alarm of the Willow's terrible cries and the sight +of Pierrot dashing madly toward him from the dead body of Wakayoo, +Baree did not stop running until it seemed as though his lungs could +not draw another breath. When he stopped, he was well out of the canyon +and headed for the beaver pond. For almost a week Baree had not been +near the pond. He had not forgotten Beaver Tooth and Umisk and the +other little beavers, but Wakayoo and his daily catch of fresh fish had +been too big a temptation for him. Now Wakayoo was gone. He sensed the +fact that the big black bear would never fish again in the quiet pools +and shimmering eddies, and that where for many days there had been +peace and plenty, there was now great danger. And just as in another +country he would have fled for safety to the old windfall, he now fled +desperately for the beaver pond. + +Exactly wherein lay Baree's fears it would be difficult to say--but +surely it was not because of Nepeese. The Willow had chased him hard. +She had flung herself upon him. He had felt the clutch of her hands and +the smother of her soft hair, and yet of her he was not afraid! If he +stopped now and then in his flight and looked back, it was to see if +Nepeese was following. He would not have run hard from her--alone. Her +eyes and voice and hands had set something stirring in him; he was +filled with a greater yearning and a greater loneliness now. And that +night he dreamed troubled dreams. + +He found himself a bed under a spruce root not far from the beaver +pond, and all through the night his sleep was filled with that restless +dreaming--dreams of his mother, of Kazan, the old windfall, of +Umlsk--and of Nepeese. Once, when he awoke, he thought the spruce root +was Gray Wolf; and when he found that she was not there, Pierrot and +the Willow could have told what his crying meant if they had heard it. +Again and again he had visions of the thrilling happenings of that day. +He saw the flight of Wakayoo over the little meadow--he saw him die +again. He saw the glow of the Willow's eyes close to his own, heard her +voice--so sweet and low that it seemed like strange music to him--and +again he heard her terrible screams. + +Baree was glad when the dawn came. He did not seek for food, but went +down to the pond. There was little hope and anticipation in his manner +now. He remembered that, as plainly as animal ways could talk, Umisk +and his playmates had told him they wanted nothing to do with him. And +yet the fact that they were there took away some of his loneliness. It +was more than loneliness. The wolf in him was submerged. The dog was +master. And in these passing moments, when the blood of the wild was +almost dormant in him, he was depressed by the instinctive and growing +feeling that he was not of that wild, but a fugitive in it, menaced on +all sides by strange dangers. + +Deep in the northern forests the beaver does not work and play in +darkness only, but uses day even more than night, and many of Beaver +Tooth's people were awake when Baree began disconsolately to +investigate the shores of the pond. The little beavers were still with +their mothers in the big houses that looked like great domes of sticks +and mud out in the middle of the lake. There were three of these +houses, one of them at least twenty feet in diameter. Baree had some +difficulty in following his side of the pond. When he got back among +the willows and alders and birch, dozens of little canals crossed and +crisscrossed in his path. Some of these canals were a foot wide, and +others three or four feet, and all were filled with water. No country +in the world ever had a better system of traffic than this domain of +the beavers, down which they brought their working materials and food +into the main reservoir--the pond. + +In one of the larger canals Baree surprised a big beaver towing a +four-foot cutting of birch as thick through as a man's leg--half a +dozen breakfasts and dinners and suppers in that one cargo. The four or +five inner barks of the birch are what might be called the bread and +butter and potatoes of the beaver menu, while the more highly prized +barks of the willow and young alder take the place of meat and pie. +Baree smelled curiously of the birch cutting after the old beaver had +abandoned it in flight, and then went on. He did not try to conceal +himself now, and at least half a dozen beavers had a good look at him +before he came to the point where the pond narrowed down to the width +of the stream, almost half a mile from the dam. Then he wandered back. +All that morning he hovered about the pond, showing himself openly. + +In their big mud-and-stick strongholds the beavers held a council of +war. They were distinctly puzzled. There were four enemies which they +dreaded above all others: the otter, who destroyed their dams in the +wintertime and brought death to them from cold and by lowering the +water so they could not get to their food supplies; the lynx, who +preyed on them all, young and old alike; and the fox and wolf, who +would lie in ambush for hours in order to pounce on the very young, +like Umisk and his playmates. If Baree had been any one of these four, +wily Beaver Tooth and his people would have known what to do. But Baree +was surely not an otter, and if he was a fox or a wolf or a lynx, his +actions were very strange, to say the least. Half a dozen times he had +had the opportunity to pounce on his prey, if he had been seeking prey. +But at no time had he shown the least desire to harm them. + +It may be that the beavers discussed the matter fully among themselves. +It is possible that Umisk and his playmates told their parents of their +adventure, and of how Baree had made no move to harm them when he could +quite easily have caught them. It is also more than likely that the +older beavers who had fled from Baree that morning gave an account of +their adventures, again emphasizing the fact that the stranger, while +frightening them, had shown no disposition to attack them. All this is +quite possible, for if beavers can make a large part of a continent's +history, and can perform engineering feats that nothing less than +dynamite can destroy, it is only reasonable to suppose that they have +some way of making one another understand. + +However this may be, courageous old Beaver Tooth took it upon himself +to end the suspense. + +It was early in the afternoon that for the third or fourth time Baree +walked out on the dam. This dam was fully two hundred feet in length, +but at no point did the water run over it, the overflow finding its way +through narrow sluices. A week or two ago Baree could have crossed to +the opposite side of the pond on this dam, but now--at the far +end--Beaver Tooth and his engineers were adding a new section of dam, +and in order to accomplish their work more easily, they had flooded +fully fifty yards of the low ground on which they were working. + +The main dam held a strange fascination for Baree. It was strong with +the smell of beaver. The top of it was high and dry, and there were +dozens of smoothly worn little hollows in which the beavers had taken +their sun baths. In one of these hollows Baree stretched himself out, +with his eyes on the pond. Not a ripple stirred its velvety smoothness. +Not a sound broke the drowsy stillness of the afternoon. The beavers +might have been dead or asleep, for all the stir they made. And yet +they knew that Baree was on the dam. Where he lay, the sun fell in a +warm flood, and it was so comfortable that after a time he had +difficulty in keeping his eyes open to watch the pond. Then he fell +asleep. + +Just how Beaver Tooth sensed this fact is a mystery. Five minutes later +he came up quietly, without a splash or a sound, within fifty yards of +Baree. For a few moments he scarcely moved in the water. Then he swam +very slowly parallel with the dam across the pond. At the other side he +drew himself ashore, and for another minute sat as motionless as a +stone, with his eyes on that part of the dam where Baree was lying. Not +another beaver was moving, and it was very soon apparent that Beaver +Tooth had but one object in mind--getting a closer observation of +Baree. When he entered the water again, he swam along close to the dam. +Ten feet beyond Baree he began to climb out. He did this with great +slowness and caution. At last he reached the top of the dam. + +A few yards away Baree was almost hidden in his hollow, only the top of +his shiny black body appearing to Beaver Tooth's scrutiny. To get a +better look, the old beaver spread his flat tail out beyond him and +rose to a sitting posture on his hindquarters, his two front paws held +squirrel-like over his breast. In this pose he was fully three feet +tall. He probably weighed forty pounds, and in some ways he resembled +one of those fat, good-natured, silly-looking dogs that go largely to +stomach. But his brain was working with amazing celerity. Suddenly he +gave the hard mud of the dam a single slap with his tail--and Baree sat +up. Instantly he saw Beaver Tooth, and stared. Beaver Tooth stared. For +a full half-minute neither moved the thousandth part of an inch. Then +Baree stood up and wagged his tail. + +That was enough. Dropping to his forefeet. Beaver Tooth waddled +leisurely to the edge of the dam and dived over. He was neither +cautious nor in very great haste now. He made a great commotion in the +water and swam boldly back and forth under Baree. When he had done this +several times, he cut straight up the pond to the largest of the three +houses and disappeared. Five minutes after Beaver Tooth's exploit word +was passing quickly among the colony. The stranger--Baree--was not a +lynx. He was not a fox. He was not a wolf. Moreover, he was very +young--and harmless. Work could be resumed. Play could be resumed. +There was no danger. Such was Beaver Tooth's verdict. + +If someone had shouted these facts in beaver language through a +megaphone, the response could not have been quicker. All at once it +seemed to Baree, who was still standing on the edge of the dam, that +the pond was alive with beavers. He had never seen so many at one time +before. They were popping up everywhere, and some of them swam up +within a dozen feet of him and looked him over in a leisurely and +curious way. For perhaps five minutes the beavers seemed to have no +particular object in view. Then Beaver Tooth himself struck straight +for the shore and climbed out. Others followed him. Half a dozen +workers disappeared in the canals. As many more waddled out among the +alders and willows. Eagerly Baree watched for Umisk and his chums. At +last he saw them, swimming forth from one of the smaller houses. They +climbed out on their playground--the smooth bar above the shore of mud. +Baree wagged his tail so hard that his whole body shook, and hurried +along the dam. + +When he came out on the level strip of shore, Umisk was there alone, +nibbling his supper from a long, freshly cut willow. The other little +beavers had gone into a thick clump of young alders. + +This time Umisk did not run. He looked up from his stick. Baree +squatted himself, wiggling in a most friendly and ingratiating manner. +For a few seconds Umisk regarded him. + +Then, very coolly, he resumed his supper. + + + +CHAPTER 10 + +Just as in the life of every man there is one big, controlling +influence, either for good or bad, so in the life of Baree the beaver +pond was largely an arbiter of destiny. Where he might have gone if he +had not discovered it, and what might have happened to him, are matters +of conjecture. But it held him. It began to take the place of the old +windfall, and in the beavers themselves he found a companionship which +made up, in a way, for his loss of the protection and friendship of +Kazan and Gray Wolf. + +This companionship, if it could be called that, went just so far and no +farther. With each day that passed the older beavers became more +accustomed to seeing Baree. At the end of two weeks, if Baree had gone +away, they would have missed him--but not in the same way that Baree +would have missed the beavers. It was a matter of good-natured +toleration on their part. With Baree it was different. He was still +uskahis, as Nepeese would have said. He still wanted mothering; he was +still moved by the puppyish yearnings which he had not yet had the time +to outgrow; and when night came--to speak that yearning quite +plainly--he had the desire to go into the big beaver house with Umisk +and his chums and sleep. + +During this fortnight that followed Beaver Tooth's exploit on the dam +Baree ate his meals a mile up the creek, where there were plenty of +crayfish. But the pond was home. Night always found him there, and a +large part of his day. He slept at the end of the dam, or on top of it +on particularly clear nights, and the beavers accepted him as a +permanent guest. They worked in his presence as if he did not exist. + +Baree was fascinated by this work, and he never grew tired of watching +it. It puzzled and bewildered him. Day after day he saw them float +timber and brush through the water for the new dam. He saw this dam +growing steadily under their efforts. One day he lay within a dozen +feet of an old beaver who was cutting down a tree six inches through. +When the tree fell, and the old beaver scurried away, Baree scurried, +too. Then he came back and smelled of the cutting, wondering what it +was all about, and why Umisk's uncle or grandfather or aunt had gone to +all that trouble. + +He still could not induce Umisk and the other young beavers to join him +in play, and after the first week or so he gave up his efforts. In +fact, their play puzzled him almost as much as the dam-building +operations of the older beavers. Umisk, for instance, was fond of +playing in the mud at the edge of the pond. He was like a very small +boy. Where his elders floated timbers from three inches to a foot in +diameter to the big dam, Umisk brought small sticks and twigs no larger +around than a lead pencil to his playground, and built a make-believe +dam of his own. + +Umisk would work an hour at a time on this play dam as industriously as +his father and mother were working on the big dam, and Baree would lie +flat on his belly a few feet away, watching him and wondering mightily. +And through this half-dry mud Umisk would also dig his miniature +canals, just as a small boy might have dug his Mississippi River and +pirate-infested oceans in the outflow of some back-lot spring. With his +sharp little teeth he cut down his big timber--willow sprouts never +more than an inch in diameter; and when one of these four or five-foot +sprouts toppled down, he undoubtedly felt as great a satisfaction as +Beaver Tooth felt when he sent a seventy-foot birch crashing into the +edge of the pond. Baree could not understand the fun of all this. He +could see some reason for nibbling at sticks--he liked to sharpen his +teeth on sticks himself; but it puzzled him to explain why Umisk so +painstakingly stripped the bark from the sticks and swallowed it. + +Another method of play still further discouraged Baree's advances. A +short distance from the spot where he had first seen Umisk there was a +shelving bank that rose ten or twelve feet from the water, and this +bank was used by the young beavers as a slide. It was worn smooth and +hard. Umisk would climb up the bank at a point where it was not so +steep. At the top of the slide he would put his tail out flat behind +him and give himself a shove, shooting down the toboggan and landing in +the water with a big splash. At times there were from six to ten young +beavers engaged in this sport, and now and then one of the older +beavers would waddle to the top of the slide and take a turn with the +youngsters. + +One afternoon, when the toboggan was particularly wet and slippery from +recent use, Baree went up the beaver path to the top of the bank, and +began investigating. Nowhere had he found the beaver smell so strong as +on the slide. He began sniffing and incautiously went too far. In an +instant his feet shot out from under him, and with a single wild yelp +he went shooting down the toboggan. For the second time in his life he +found himself struggling under water, and when a minute or two later he +dragged himself up through the soft mud to the firmer footing of the +shore, he had at last a very well-defined opinion of beaver play. + +It may be that Umisk saw him. It may be that very soon the story of his +adventure was known by all the inhabitants of Beaver Town. For when +Baree came upon Umisk eating his supper of alder bark that evening, +Umisk stood his ground to the last inch, and for the first time they +smelled noses. At least Baree sniffed audibly, and plucky little Umisk +sat like a rolled-up sphinx. That was the final cementing of their +friendship--on Baree's part. He capered about extravagantly for a few +moments, telling Umisk how much he liked him, and that they'd be great +chums. Umisk didn't talk. He didn't make a move until he resumed his +supper. But he was a companionable-looking little fellow, for all that, +and Baree was happier than he had been since the day he left the old +windfall. + +This friendship, even though it outwardly appeared to be quite +one-sided, was decidedly fortunate for Umisk. When Baree was at the +pond, he always kept as near to Umisk as possible, when he could find +him. One day he was lying in a patch of grass, half asleep, while Umisk +busied himself in a clump of alder shoots a few yards away. It was the +warning crack of a beaver tail that fully roused Baree; and then +another and another, like pistol shots. He jumped up. Everywhere +beavers were scurrying for the pond. + +Just then Umisk came out of the alders and hurried as fast as his +short, fat legs would carry him toward the water. He had almost reached +the mud when a lightning flash of red passed before Baree's eyes in the +afternoon sun, and in another instant Napakasew--the he-fox--had +fastened his sharp fangs in Umisk's throat. Baree heard his little +friend's agonized cry; he heard the frenzied flap-flap-flap of many +tails--and his blood pounded suddenly with the thrill of excitement and +rage. + +As swiftly as the red fox himself, Baree darted to the rescue. He was +as big and as heavy as the fox, and when he struck Napakasew, it was +with a ferocious snarl that Pierrot might have heard on the farther +side of the pond, and his teeth sank like knives into the shoulder of +Umisk's assailant. The fox was of a breed of forest highwaymen which +kills from behind. He was not a fighter when it came fang-to-fang, +unless cornered--and so fierce and sudden was Baree's assault that +Napakasew took to flight almost as quickly as he had begun his attack +on Umisk. + +Baree did not follow him, but went to Umisk, who lay half in the mud, +whimpering and snuffling in a curious sort of way. Gently Baree nosed +him, and after a moment or two Umisk got up on his webbed feet, while +fully twenty or thirty beavers were making a tremendous fuss in the +water near the shore. + +After this the beaver pond seemed more than ever like home to Baree. + + + +CHAPTER 11 + +While lovely Nepeese was still shuddering over her thrilling experience +under the rock--while Pierrot still offered grateful thanks in his +prayers for her deliverance and Baree was becoming more and more a +fixture at the beaver pond--Bush McTaggart was perfecting a little +scheme of his own up at Post Lac Bain, about forty miles north and +west. McTaggart had been factor at Lac Bain for seven years. In the +company's books down in Winnipeg he was counted a remarkably successful +man. The expense of his post was below the average, and his semiannual +report of furs always ranked among the first. After his name, kept on +file in the main office, was one notation which said: "Gets more out of +a dollar than any other man north of God's Lake." + +The Indians knew why this was so. They called him Napao Wetikoo--the +man-devil. This was under their breath--a name whispered sinisterly in +the glow of tepee fires, or spoken softly where not even the winds +might carry it to the ears of Bush McTaggart. They feared him; they +hated him. They died of starvation and sickness, and the tighter Bush +McTaggart clenched the fingers of his iron rule, the more meekly, it +seemed to him, did they respond to his mastery. His was a small soul, +hidden in the hulk of a brute, which rejoiced in power. And here--with +the raw wilderness on four sides of him--his power knew no end. The big +company was behind him. It had made him king of a domain in which there +was little law except his own. And in return he gave back to the +company bales and bundles of furs beyond their expectation. It was not +for them to have suspicions. They were a thousand or more miles +away--and dollars were what counted. + +Gregson might have told. Gregson was the investigating agent of that +district, who visited McTaggart once each year. He might have reported +that the Indians called McTaggart Napao Wetikoo because he gave them +only half price for their furs. He might have told the company quite +plainly that he kept the people of the trap lines at the edge of +starvation through every month of the winter, that he had them on their +knees with his hands at their throats--putting the truth in a mild and +pretty way--and that he always had a woman or a girl, Indian or +half-breed, living with him at the Post. But Gregson enjoyed his visits +too much at Lac Bain. Always he could count on two weeks of coarse +pleasures. And in addition to that, his own womenfolk at home wore a +rich treasure of fur that came to them from McTaggart. + +One evening, a week after the adventure of Nepeese and Baree under the +rock, McTaggart sat under the glow of an oil lamp in his "store." He +had sent his little pippin-faced English clerk to bed, and he was +alone. For six weeks there had been in him a great unrest. It was just +six weeks ago that Pierrot had brought Nepeese on her first visit to +Lac Bain since McTaggart had been factor there. She had taken his +breath away. Since then he had been able to think of nothing but her. +Twice in that six weeks he had gone down to Pierrot's cabin. Tomorrow +he was going again. Marie, the slim Cree girl over in his cabin, he had +forgotten--just as a dozen others before Marie had slipped out of his +memory. It was Nepeese now. He had never seen anything quite so +beautiful as Pierrot's girl. + +Audibly he cursed Pierrot as he looked at a sheet of paper under his +hand, on which for an hour or more he had been making notes out of worn +and dusty company ledgers. It was Pierrot who stood in his way. +Pierrot's father, according to those notes, had been a full-blooded +Frenchman. Therefore Pierrot was half French, and Nepeese was quarter +French--though she was so beautiful he could have sworn there was not +more than a drop or two of Indian blood in her veins. If they had been +all Indian--Chipewyan, Cree, Ojibway, Dog Rib--anything--there would +have been no trouble at all in the matter. He would have bent them to +his power, and Nepeese would have come to his cabin, as Marie had come +six months ago. But there was the accursed French of it! Pierrot and +Nepeese were different. And yet-- + +He smiled grimly, and his hands clenched tighter. After all, was not +his power sufficient? Would even Pierrot dare stand up against that? If +Pierrot objected, he would drive him from the country--from the +trapping regions that had come down to him as heritage from father and +grandfather, and even before their day. He would make of Pierrot a +wanderer and an outcast, as he had made wanderers and outcasts of a +score of others who had lost his favor. No other Post would sell to or +buy from Pierrot if Le Bete--the black cross--was put after his name. +That was his power--a law of the factors that had come down through the +centuries. It was a tremendous power for evil. It had brought him +Marie, the slim, dark-eyed Cree girl, who hated him--and who in spite +of her hatred "kept house for him." + +That was the polite way of explaining her presence if explanations were +ever necessary. McTaggart looked again at the notes he had made on the +sheet of paper. Pierrot's trapping country, his own property according +to the common law of the wilderness, was very valuable. During the last +seven years he had received an average of a thousand dollars a year for +his furs, for McTaggart had been unable to cheat Pierrot quite as +completely as he had cheated the Indians. A thousand dollars a year! +Pierrot would think twice before he gave that up. McTaggart chuckled as +he crumpled the paper in his hand and prepared to put out the light. +Under his close-cropped beard his reddish face blazed with the fire +that was in his blood. It was an unpleasant face--like iron, merciless, +filled with the look that gave him his name of Napao Wetikoo. His eyes +gleamed, and he drew a quick breath as he put out the light. + +He chuckled again as he made his way through the darkness to the door. +Nepeese as good as belonged to him. He, would have her if it +cost--PIERROT'S LIFE. And--WHY NOT? It was all so easy. A shot on a +lonely trap line, a single knife thrust--and who would know? Who would +guess where Pierrot had gone? And it would all be Pierrot's fault. For +the last time he had seen Pierrot, he had made an honest proposition: +he would marry Nepeese. Yes, even that. He had told Pierrot so. He had +told Pierrot that when the latter was his father-in-law, he would pay +him double price for furs. + +And Pierrot had stared--had stared with that strange, stunned look in +his face, like a man dazed by a blow from a club. And so if he did not +get Nepeese without trouble it would all be Pierrot's fault. Tomorrow +McTaggart would start again for the half-breed's country. And the next +day Pierrot would have an answer for him. Bush McTaggart chuckled again +as he went to bed. + +Until the next to the last day Pierrot said nothing to Nepeese about +what had passed between him and the factor at Lac Bain. Then he told +her. + +"He is a beast--a man-devil," he said, when he had finished. "I would +rather see you out there--with her--dead." And he pointed to the tall +spruce under which the princess mother lay. + +Nepeese had not uttered a sound. But her eyes had grown bigger and +darker, and there was a flush in her cheeks which Pierrot had never +seen there before. She stood up when he had finished, and she seemed +taller to him. Never had she looked quite so much like a woman, and +Pierrot's eyes were deep-shadowed with fear and uneasiness as he +watched her while she gazed off into the northwest--toward Lac Bain. + +She was wonderful, this slip of a girl-woman. Her beauty troubled him. +He had seen the look in Bush McTaggart's eyes. He had heard the thrill +in McTaggart's voice. He had caught the desire of a beast in +McTaggart's face. It had frightened him at first. But now--he was not +frightened. He was uneasy, but his hands were clenched. In his heart +there was a smoldering fire. At last Nepeese turned and came and sat +down beside him again, at his feet. + +"He is coming tomorrow, ma cherie," he said. "What shall I tell him?" + +The Willow's lips were red. Her eyes shone. But she did not look up at +her father. + +"Nothing, Nootawe--except that you are to say to him that I am the one +to whom he must come--for what he seeks." + +Pierrot bent over and caught her smiling. The sun went down. His heart +sank with it, like cold lead. + + +From Lac Bain to Pierrot's cabin the trail cut within half a mile of +the beaver pond, a dozen miles from where Pierrot lived. And it was +here, on a twist of the creek in which Wakayoo had caught fish for +Baree, that Bush McTaggart made his camp for the night. Only twenty +miles of the journey could be made by canoe, and as McTaggart was +traveling the last stretch afoot, his camp was a simple affair--a few +cut balsams, a light blanket, a small fire. Before he prepared his +supper, the factor drew a number of copper wire snares from his small +pack and spent half an hour in setting them in rabbit runways. This +method of securing meat was far less arduous than carrying a gun in hot +weather, and it was certain. Half a dozen snares were good for at least +three rabbits, and one of these three was sure to be young and tender +enough for the frying pan. After he had placed his snares McTaggart set +a skillet of bacon over the coals and boiled his coffee. + +Of all the odors of a camp, the smell of bacon reaches farthest in the +forest. It needs no wind. It drifts on its own wings. On a still night +a fox will sniff it a mile away--twice that far if the air is moving in +the right direction. It was this smell of bacon that came to Baree +where he lay in his hollow on top of the beaver dam. + +Since his experience in the canyon and the death of Wakayoo, he had not +fared particularly well. Caution had kept him near the pond, and he had +lived almost entirely on crayfish. This new aroma that came with the +night wind roused his hunger. But it was elusive: now he could smell +it--the next instant it was gone. He left the dam and began questing +for the source of it in the forest, until after a time he lost it +altogether. McTaggart had finished frying his bacon and was eating it. + +It was a splendid night that followed. Perhaps Baree would have slept +through it in his nest on the top of the dam if the bacon smell had not +stirred the new hunger in him. Since his adventure in the canyon, the +deeper forest had held a dread for him, especially at night. But this +night was like a pale, golden day. It was moonless; but the stars shone +like a billion distant lamps, flooding the world in a soft and billowy +sea of light. A gentle whisper of wind made pleasant sounds in the +treetops. Beyond that it was very quiet, for it was Puskowepesim--the +Molting Moon--and the wolves were not hunting, the owls had lost their +voice, the foxes slunk with the silence of shadows, and even the +beavers had begun to cease their labors. The horns of the moose, the +deer, and the caribou were in tender velvet, and they moved but little +and fought not at all. It was late July, Molting Moon of the Cree, Moon +of Silence for the Chipewyan. + +In this silence Baree began to hunt. He stirred up a family of +half-grown partridges, but they escaped him. He pursued a rabbit that +was swifter than he. For an hour he had no luck. Then he heard a sound +that made every drop of blood in him thrill. He was close to +McTaggart's camp, and what he had heard was a rabbit in one of +McTaggart's snares. He came out into a little starlit open and there he +saw the rabbit going through a most marvelous pantomime. It amazed him +for a moment, and he stopped in his tracks. + +Wapoos, the rabbit, had run his furry head into the snare, and his +first frightened jump had "shot" the sapling to which the copper wire +was attached so that he was now hung half in mid-air, with only his +hind feet touching the ground. And there he was dancing madly while the +noose about his neck slowly choked him to death. + +Baree gave a sort of gasp. He could understand nothing of the part that +the wire and the sapling were playing in this curious game. All he +could see was that Wapoos was hopping and dancing about on his hind +legs in a most puzzling and unrabbitlike fashion. It may be that he +thought it some sort of play. In this instance, however, he did not +regard Wapoos as he had looked on Umisk the beaver. He knew that Wapoos +made mighty fine eating, and after another moment or two of hesitation +he darted upon his prey. + +Wapoos, half gone already, made almost no struggle, and in the glow of +the stars Baree finished him, and for half an hour afterward he feasted. + +McTaggart had heard no sound, for the snare into which Wapoos had run +his head was the one set farthest from his camp. Beside the smoldering +coals of his fire he sat with his back to a tree, smoking his black +pipe and dreaming covetously of Nepeese, while Baree continued his +night wandering. Baree no longer had the desire to hunt. He was too +full. But he nosed in and out of the starlit spaces, enjoying immensely +the stillness and the golden glow of the night. He was following a +rabbit-run when he came to a place where two fallen logs left a trail +no wider than his body. He squeezed through; something tightened about +his neck. There was a sudden snap--a swish as the sapling was released +from its "trigger"--and Baree was jerked off his feet so suddenly that +he had no time to conjecture as to what was happening. + +The yelp in his throat died in a gurgle, and the next moment he was +going through the pantomimic actions of Wapoos, who was having his +vengeance inside him. For the life of him Baree could not keep from +dancing about, while the wire grew tighter and tighter about his neck. +When he snapped at the wire and flung the weight of his body to the +ground, the sapling would bend obligingly, and then--in its +rebound--would yank him for an instant completely off the earth. +Furiously he struggled. It was a miracle that the fine wire held him. +In a few moments more it must have broken--but McTaggart had heard him! +The factor caught up his blanket and a heavy stick as he hurried toward +the snare. It was not a rabbit making those sounds--he knew that. +Perhaps a fishercat--a lynx, a fox, a young wolf-- + +It was the wolf he thought of first when he saw Baree at the end of the +wire. He dropped the blanket and raised the club. If there had been +clouds overhead, or the stars had been less brilliant, Baree would have +died as surely as Wapoos had died. With the club raised over his head +McTaggart saw in time the white star, the white-tipped ear, and the jet +black of Baree's coat. + +With a swift movement he exchanged the club for the blanket. + +In that hour, could McTaggart have looked ahead to the days that were +to come, he would have used the club. Could he have foreseen the great +tragedy in which Baree was to play a vital part, wrecking his hopes and +destroying his world, he would have beaten him to a pulp there under +the light of the stars. And Baree, could he have foreseen what was to +happen between this brute with a white skin and the most beautiful +thing in the forests, would have fought even more bitterly before he +surrendered himself to the smothering embrace of the factor's blanket. +On this night Fate had played a strange hand for them both, and only +that Fate, and perhaps the stars above, held a knowledge of what its +outcome was to be. + + + +CHAPTER 12 + +Half an hour later Bush McTaggart's fire was burning brightly again. In +the glow of it Baree lay trussed up like an Indian papoose, tied into a +balloon-shaped ball with babiche thong, his head alone showing where +his captor had cut a hole for it in the blanket. He was hopelessly +caught--so closely imprisoned in the blanket that he could scarcely +move a muscle of his body. A few feet away from him McTaggart was +bathing a bleeding hand in a basin of water. There was also a red +streak down the side of McTaggart's bullish neck. + +"You little devil!" he snarled at Baree. "You little devil!" + +He reached over suddenly and gave Baree's head a vicious blow with his +heavy hand. + +"I ought to beat your brains out, and--I believe I will!" + +Baree watched him as he picked up a stick close at his side--a bit of +firewood. Pierrot had chased him, but this was the first time he had +been near enough to the man-monster to see the red glow in his eyes. +They were not like the eyes of the wonderful creature who had almost +caught him in the web of her hair, and who had crawled after him under +the rock. They were the eyes of a beast. They made him shrink and try +to draw his head back into the blanket as the stick was raised. At the +same time he snarled. His white fangs gleamed in the firelight. His +ears were flat. He wanted to sink his teeth in the red throat where he +had already drawn blood. + +The stick fell. It fell again and again, and when McTaggart was done, +Baree lay half stunned, his eyes partly closed by the blows, and his +mouth bleeding. + +"That's the way we take the devil out of a wild dog," snarled +McTaggart. "I guess you won't try the biting game again, eh, youngster? +A thousand devils--but you went almost to the bone of this hand!" + +He began washing the wound again. Baree's teeth had sunk deep, and +there was a troubled look in the factor's face. It was July--a bad +month for bites. From his kit he got a small flask of whisky and turned +a bit of the raw liquor on the wound, cursing Baree as it burned into +his flesh. + +Baree's half-shut eyes were fixed on him steadily. He knew that at last +he had met the deadliest of all his enemies. And yet he was not afraid. +The club in Bush McTaggart's hand had not killed his spirit. It had +killed his fear. It had roused in him a hatred such as he had never +known--not even when he was fighting Oohoomisew, the outlaw owl. The +vengeful animosity of the wolf was burning in him now, along with the +savage courage of the dog. He did not flinch when McTaggart approached +him again. He made an effort to raise himself, that he might spring at +this man-monster. In the effort, swaddled as he was in the blanket, he +rolled over in a helpless and ludicrous heap. + +The sight of it touched McTaggart's risibilities, and he laughed. He +sat down with his back to the tree again and filled his pipe. + +Baree did not take his eyes from McTaggart as he smoked. He watched the +man when the latter stretched himself out on the bare ground and went +to sleep. He listened, still later, to the man-monster's heinous +snoring. Again and again during the long night he struggled to free +himself. He would never forget that night. It was terrible. In the +thick, hot folds of the blanket his limbs and body were suffocated +until the blood almost stood still in his veins. Yet he did not whine. + +They began to journey before the sun was up, for if Baree's blood was +almost dead within him, Bush McTaggart's was scorching his body. He +made his last plans as he walked swiftly through the forest with Baree +under his arm. He would send Pierrot at once for Father Grotin at his +mission seventy miles to the west. He would marry Nepeese--yes, marry +her! That would tickle Pierrot. And he would be alone with Nepeese +while Pierrot was gone for the missioner. + +This thought flamed McTaggart's blood like strong whisky. There was no +thought in his hot and unreasoning brain of what Nepeese might say--of +what she might think. His hand clenched, and he laughed harshly as +there flashed on him for an instant the thought that perhaps Pierrot +would not want to give her up. Pierrot! Bah! It would not be the first +time he had killed a man--or the second. + +McTaggart laughed again, and he walked still faster. There was no +chance of his losing--no chance for Nepeese to get away from him. +He--Bush McTaggart--was lord of this wilderness, master of its people, +arbiter of their destinies. He was power--and the law. + +The sun was well up when Pierrot, standing in front of his cabin with +Nepeese, pointed to a rise in the trail three or four hundred yards +away, over which McTaggart had just appeared. + +"He is coming." + +With a face which had aged since last night he looked at Nepeese. Again +he saw the dark glow in her eyes and the deepening red of her parted +lips, and his heart was sick again with dread. Was it possible-- + +She turned on him, her eyes shining, her voice trembling. + +"Remember, Nootawe--you must send him to me for his answer," she cried +quickly, and she darted into the cabin. With a cold, gray face Pierrot +faced Bush McTaggart. + + + +CHAPTER 13 + +From the window, her face screened by the folds of the curtain which +she had made for it, the Willow could see what happened outside. She +was not smiling now. She was breathing quickly, and her body was tense. +Bush McTaggart paused not a dozen feet from the window and shook hands +with Pierrot, her father. She heard McTaggart's coarse voice, his +boisterous greeting, and then she saw him showing Pierrot what he +carried under his arm. There came to her distinctly his explanation of +how he had caught his captive in a rabbit snare. He unwrapped the +blanket. Nepeese gave a cry of amazement. In an instant she was out +beside them. She did not look at McTaggart's red face, blazing in its +joy and exultation. + +"It is Baree!" she cried. + +She took the bundle from McTaggart and turned to Pierrot. + +"Tell him that Baree belongs to me," she said. + +She hurried into the cabin. McTaggart looked after her, stunned and +amazed. Then he looked at Pierrot. A man half blind could have seen +that Pierrot was as amazed as he. + +Nepeese had not spoken to him--the factor of Lac Bain! She had not +LOOKED at him! And she had taken the dog from him with as little +concern as though he had been a wooden man. The red in his face +deepened as he stared from Pierrot to the door through which she had +gone, and which she had closed behind her. + +On the floor of the cabin Nepeese dropped on her knees and finished +unwrapping the blanket. She was not afraid of Baree. She had forgotten +McTaggart. And then, as Baree rolled in a limp heap on the floor, she +saw his half-closed eyes and the dry blood on his jaws, and the light +left her face as swiftly as the sun is shadowed by a cloud. "Baree," +she cried softly. "Baree--Baree!" + +She partly lifted him in her two hands. Baree's head sagged. His body +was numbed until he was powerless to move. His legs were without +feeling. He could scarcely see. But he heard her voice! It was the same +voice that had come to him that day he had felt the sting of the +bullet, the voice that had pleaded with him under the rock! + +The voice of the Willow thrilled Baree. It seemed to stir the sluggish +blood in his veins, and he opened his eyes wider and saw again the +wonderful stars that had glowed at him so softly the day of Wakayoo's +death. One of the Willow's long braids fell over her shoulder, and he +smelled again the sweet scent of her hair as her hand caressed him and +her voice talked to him. Then she got up suddenly and left him, and he +did not move while he waited for her. In a moment she was back with a +basin of water and a cloth. Gently she washed the blood from his eyes +and mouth. And still Baree made no move. He scarcely breathed. But +Nepeese saw the little quivers that shot through his body when her hand +touched him, like electric shocks. + +"He beat you with a club," she was saying, her dark eyes within a foot +of Baree's. "He beat you! That man-beast!" + +There came an interruption. The door opened, and the man-beast stood +looking down on them, a grin on his red face. Instantly Baree showed +that he was alive. He sprang back from under the Willow's hand with a +sudden snarl and faced McTaggart. The hair of his spine stood up like a +brush; his fangs gleamed menacingly, and his eyes burned like living +coals. + +"There is a devil in him," said McTaggart. "He is wild--born of the +wolf. You must be careful or he will take off a hand, kit sakahet." It +was the first time he had called her that lover's name in +Cree--SWEETHEART! Her heart pounded. She bent her head for a moment +over her clenched hands, and McTaggart--looking down on what he thought +was her confusion--laid his hand caressingly on her hair. From the door +Pierrot had heard the word, and now he saw the caress, and he raised a +hand as if to shut out the sight of a sacrilege. + +"Mon Dieu!" he breathed. + +In the next instant he had given a sharp cry of wonder that mingled +with a sudden yell of pain from McTaggart. Like a flash Baree had +darted across the floor and fastened his teeth in the factor's leg. +They had bitten deep before McTaggart freed himself with a powerful +kick. With an oath he snatched his revolver from its holster. The +Willow was ahead of him. With a little cry she darted to Baree and +caught him in her arms. As she looked up at McTaggart, her soft, bare +throat was within a few inches of Baree's naked fangs. Her eyes blazed. + +"You beat him!" she cried. "He hates you--hates you--" + +"Let him go!" called Pierrot in an agony of fear. + +"Mon Dieu! I say let him go, or he will tear the life from you!" + +"He hates you--hates you--hates you--" the Willow was repeating over +and over again into McTaggart's startled face. Then suddenly she turned +to her father. "No, he will not tear the life from me," she cried. +"See! It is Baree. Did I not tell you that? It is Baree! Is it not +proof that he defended me--" + +"From me!" gasped McTaggart, his face darkening. + +Pierrot advanced and laid a hand on McTaggart's arm. He was smiling. + +"Let us leave them to fight it out between themselves, m'sieu," he +said. "They are two little firebrands, and we are not safe. If she is +bitten--" + +He shrugged his shoulders. A great load had been lifted from them +suddenly. His voice was soft and persuasive. And now the anger had gone +out of the Willow's face. A coquettish uplift of her eyes caught +McTaggart, and she looked straight at him half smiling, as she spoke to +her father: + +"I will join you soon, mon pere--you and M'sieu the Factor from Lac +Bain!" + +There were undeniable little devils in her eyes, McTaggart +thought--little devils laughing full at him as she spoke, setting his +brain afire and his blood to throbbing wildly. Those eyes--full of +dancing witches! How he would take pleasure in taming them--very soon +now! He followed Pierrot outside. In his exultation he no longer felt +the smart of Baree's teeth. + +"I will show you my new cariole that I have made for winter, m'sieu," +said Pierrot as the door closed behind them. + + +Half an hour later Nepeese came out of the cabin. She could see that +Pierrot and the factor had been talking about something that had not +been pleasant to her father. His face was strained. She caught in his +eyes the smolder of fire which he was trying to smother, as one might +smother flames under a blanket. McTaggart's jaws were set, but his eyes +lighted up with pleasure when he saw her. She knew what it was about. +The factor from Lac Bain had been demanding his answer of Pierrot, and +Pierrot had been telling him what she had insisted upon--that he must +come to her. And he was coming! She turned with a quick beating of the +heart and hurried down a little path. She heard McTaggart's footsteps +behind her, and threw the flash of a smile over her shoulder. But her +teeth were set tight. The nails of her fingers were cutting into the +palms of her hands. + +Pierrot stood without moving. He watched them as they disappeared into +the edge of the forest, Nepeese still a few steps ahead of McTaggart. +Out of his breast rose a sharp breath. + +"Par les milles cornes du diable!" he swore softly. "Is it +possible--that she smiles from her heart at that beast? Non! It is +impossible. And yet--if it is so--" + +One of his brown hands tightened convulsively about the handle of the +knife in his belt, and slowly he began to follow them. + +McTaggart did not hurry to overtake Nepeese. She was following the +narrow path deeper into the forest, and he was glad of that. They would +be alone--away from Pierrot. He was ten steps behind her, and again the +Willow smiled at him over her shoulder. Her body moved sinuously and +swiftly. She was keeping accurate measurement of the distance between +them--but McTaggart did not guess that this was why she looked back +every now and then. He was satisfied to let her go on. When she turned +from the narrow trail into a side path that scarcely bore the mark of +travel, his heart gave an exultant jump. If she kept on, he would very +soon have her alone--a good distance from the cabin. The blood ran hot +in his face. He did not speak to her, through fear that she would stop. +Ahead of them he heard the rumble of water. It was the creek running +through the chasm. + +Nepeese was making straight for that sound. With a little laugh she +started to run, and when she stood at the edge of the chasm, McTaggart +was fully fifty yards behind her. Twenty feet sheer down there was a +deep pool between the rock walls, a pool so deep that the water was the +color of blue ink. She turned to face the factor from Lac Bain. He had +never looked more like a red beast to her. Until this moment she had +been unafraid. But now--in an instant--he terrified her. Before she +could speak what she had planned to say, he was at her side, and had +taken her face between his two great hands, his coarse fingers twining +in the silken strands of her thick braids where they fell over her +shoulders at the neck. + +"Ka sakahet!" he cried passionately. "Pierrot said you would have an +answer for me. But I need no answer now. You are mine! Mine!" + +She gave a cry. It was a gasping, broken cry. His arms were about her +like bands of iron, crushing her slender body, shutting off her breath, +turning the world almost black before her eyes. She could neither +struggle nor cry out. She felt the hot passion of his lips on her face, +heard his voice--and then came a moment's freedom, and air into her +strangled lungs. Pierrot was calling! He had come to the fork in the +trail, and he was calling the Willow's name! + +McTaggart's hot hand came over her mouth. + +"Don't answer," she heard him say. + +Strength--anger--hatred flared up in her, and fiercely she struck the +hand down. Something in her wonderful eyes held McTaggart. They blazed +into his very soul. + +"Bete noir!" she panted at him, freeing herself from the last touch of +his hands. "Beast--black beast!" Her voice trembled, and her face +flamed. "See--I came to show you my pool--and tell you what you wanted +to hear--and you--you--have crushed me like a beast--like a great +rock-- See! down there--it is my pool!" + +She had not planned it like this. She had intended to be smiling, even +laughing, in this moment. But McTaggart had spoiled them--her carefully +made plans! And yet, as she pointed, the factor from Lac Bain looked +for an instant over the edge of the chasm. And then she +laughed--laughed as she gave him a sudden shove from behind. + +"And that is my answer, M'sieu le Facteur from Lac Bain!" she cried +tauntingly as he plunged headlong into the deep pool between the rock +walls. + + + +CHAPTER 14 + +From the edge of the open Pierrot saw what had happened, and he gave a +great gasp of horror. He drew back among the balsams. This was not a +moment for him to show himself. While his heart drummed like a hammer, +his face was filled with joy. + +On her hands and knees the Willow was peering over the edge. Bush +McTaggart had disappeared. He had gone down like the great clod he was. +The water of her pool had closed over him with a dull splash that was +like a chuckle of triumph. He appeared now, beating out with his arms +and legs to keep himself afloat, while the Willow's voice came to him +in taunting cries. + +"Bete noir! Bete noir! Beast! Beast--" + +Savagely she flung small sticks and tufts of earth down at him; and +McTaggart, looking up as he gained his equilibrium, saw her leaning so +far over that she seemed almost about to fall. Her long braids hung +down into the chasm, gleaming in the sun. Her eyes were laughing while +her lips taunted him. He could see the flash of her white teeth. + +"Beast! Beast!" + +He began swimming, still looking up at her. It was a hundred yards down +the slow-going current to the beach of shale where he could climb out, +and a half of that distance she followed him, laughing and taunting +him, and flinging down sticks and pebbles. He noted that none of the +sticks or stones was large enough to hurt him. When at last his feet +touched bottom, she was gone. + +Swiftly Nepeese ran back over the trail, and almost into Pierrot's +arms. She was panting and laughing when for a moment she stopped. + +"I have given him the answer, Nootawe! He is in the pool!" + +Into the balsams she disappeared like a bird. Pierrot made no effort to +stop her or to follow. + +"Tonnerre de Dieu," he chuckled--and cut straight across for the other +trail. + + +Nepeese was out of breath when she reached the cabin. Baree, fastened +to a table leg by a babiche thong, heard her pause for a moment at the +door. Then she entered and came straight to him. During the half-hour +of her absence Baree had scarcely moved. That half-hour, and the few +minutes that had preceded it, had made tremendous impressions upon him. +Nature, heredity, and instinct were at work, clashing and readjusting, +impinging on him a new intelligence--the beginning of a new +understanding. A swift and savage impulse had made him leap at Bush +McTaggart when the factor put his hand on the Willow's head. It was not +reason. It was a hearkening back of the dog to that day long ago when +Kazan, his father, had lulled the man-brute in the tent, the man-brute +who had dared to molest Thorpe's wife, whom Kazan worshiped. Then it +had been the dog--and the woman. + +And here again it was the woman. She had appealed to the great hidden +passion that was in Baree and that had come to him from Kazan. Of all +the living things in the world, he knew that he must not hurt this +creature that appeared to him through the door. He trembled as she +knelt before him again, and up through the years came the wild and +glorious surge of Kazan's blood, overwhelming the wolf, submerging the +savagery of his birth--and with his head flat on the floor he whined +softly, and WAGGED HIS TAIL. + +Nepeese gave a cry of joy. + +"Baree!" she whispered, taking his head in her hands. "Baree!" + +Her touch thrilled him. It sent little throbs through his body, a +tremulous quivering which she could feel and which deepened the glow in +her eyes. Gently her hand stroked his head and his back. It seemed to +Nepeese that he did not breathe. Under the caress of her hand his eyes +closed. In another moment she was talking to him, and at the sound of +her voice his eyes shot open. + +"He will come here--that beast--and he will kill us," she was saying. +"He will kill you because you bit him, Baree. Ugh, I wish you were +bigger, and stronger, so that you could take off his head for me!" + +She was untying the babiche from about the table leg, and under her +breath she laughed. She was not frightened. It was a tremendous +adventure--and she throbbed with exultation at the thought of having +beaten the man-beast in her own way. She could see him in the pool +struggling and beating about like a great fish. He was just about +crawling out of the chasm now--and she laughed again as she caught +Baree up under her arm. + +"Oh--oopi-nao--but you are heavy!" she gasped, "And yet I must carry +you--because I am going to run!" + +She hurried outside. Pierrot had not come, and she darted swiftly into +the balsams back of the cabin, with Baree hung in the crook of her arm, +like a sack filled at both ends and tied in the middle. He felt like +that, too. But he still had no inclination to wriggle himself free. +Nepeese ran with him until her arm ached. Then she stopped and put him +down on his feet, holding to the end of the caribou-skin thong that was +tied about his neck. She was prepared for any lunge he might make to +escape. She expected that he would make an attempt, and for a few +moments she watched him closely, while Baree, with his feet on earth +once more, looked about him. And then the Willow spoke to him softly. + +"You are not going to run away, Baree. Non, you are going to stay with +me, and we will kill that man-beast if he dares do to me again what he +did back there." She flung back the loose hair from about her flushed +face, and for a moment she forgot Baree as she thought of that +half-minute at the edge of the chasm. He was looking straight up at her +when her glance fell on him again. "Non, you are not going to run +away--you are going to follow me," she whispered. "Come." + +The babiche string tightened about Baree's neck as she urged him to +follow. It was like another rabbit snare, and he braced his forefeet +and bared his fangs just a little. The Willow did not pull. Fearlessly +she put her hand on his head again. From the direction of the cabin +came a shout, and at the sound of it she took Baree up under her arm +once more. + +"Bete noir--bete noir!" she called back tauntingly, but only loud +enough to be heard a few yards away. "Go back to Lac Bain--owases--you +wild beast!" + +Nepeese began to make her way swiftly through the forest. It grew +deeper and darker, and there were no trails. Three times in the next +half-hour she stopped to put Baree down and rest her arm. Each time she +pleaded with him coaxingly to follow her. The second and third times +Baree wriggled and wagged his tail, but beyond those demonstrations of +his satisfaction with the turn his affairs had taken he would not go. +When the string tightened around his neck, he braced himself; once he +growled--again he snapped viciously at the babiche. So Nepeese +continued to carry him. + +They came at last into a clearing. It was a tiny meadow in the heart of +the forest, not more than three or four times as big as the cabin. +Underfoot the grass was soft and green, and thickly strewn with +flowers. Straight through the heart of this little oasis trickled a +streamlet across which the Willow jumped with Baree under her arm, and +on the edge of the rill was a small wigwam made of freshly cut spruce +and balsam boughs. Into her diminutive mekewap the Willow thrust her +head to see that things were as she had left them yesterday. Then, with +a long breath of relief, she put down her four-legged burden and +fastened the end of the babiche to one of the cut spruce limbs. + +Baree burrowed himself back into the wall of the wigwam, and with head +alert--and eyes wide open--watched his companion attentively. Not a +movement of the Willow escaped him. She was radiant--and happy. Her +laugh, sweet and wild as a bird's trill, set Baree's heart throbbing +with a desire to jump about with her among the flowers. + +For a time Nepeese seemed to forget Baree. Her wild blood raced with +the joy of her triumph over the factor from Lac Bain. She saw him +again, floundering about in the pool--pictured him at the cabin now, +soaked and angry, demanding of mon pere where she had gone. And mon +pere, with a shrug of his shoulders, was telling him that he didn't +know--that probably she had run off into the forest. It did not enter +into her head that in tricking Bush McTaggart in that way she was +playing with dynamite. She did not foresee the peril that in an instant +would have stamped the wild flush from her face and curdled the blood +in her veins--she did not guess that McTaggart had become for her a +deadlier menace than ever. + +Nepeese knew that he must be angry. But what had she to fear? Mon pere +would be angry, too, if she told him what had happened at the edge of +the chasm. But she would not tell him. He might kill the man from Lac +Bain. A factor was great. But Pierrot, her father, was greater. It was +an unlimited faith in her, born of her mother. Perhaps even now Pierrot +was sending him back to Lac Bain, telling him that his business was +there. But she would not return to the cabin to see. She would wait +here. Mon pere would understand--and he knew where to find her when the +man was gone. But it would have been such fun to throw sticks at him as +he went! + +After a little Nepeese returned to Baree. She brought him water and +gave him a piece of raw fish. For hours they were alone, and with each +hour there grew stronger in Baree the desire to follow the girl in +every movement she made, to crawl close to her when she sat down, to +feel the touch of her dress, of her hand--and to hear her voice. But he +did not show this desire. He was still a little savage of the +forests--a four-footed barbarian born half of a wolf and half of a dog; +and he lay still. With Umisk he would have played. With Oohoomisew he +would have fought. At Bush McTaggart he would have bared his fangs, and +buried them deep when the chance came. But the girl was different. Like +the Kazan of old, he had begun to worship. If the Willow had freed +Baree, he would not have run away. If she had left him, he would +possibly have followed her--at a distance. His eyes were never away +from her. He watched her build a small fire and cook a piece of the +fish. He watched her eat her dinner. + +It was quite late in the afternoon when she came and sat down close to +him, with her lap full of flowers which she twined in the long, shining +braids of her hair. Then, playfully, she began beating Baree with the +end of one of these braids. He shrank under the soft blows, and with +that low, birdlike laughter in her throat, Nepeese drew his head into +her lap where the scatter of flowers lay. She talked to him. Her hand +stroked his head. Then it remained still, so near that he wanted to +thrust out his warm red tongue and caress it. He breathed in the +flower-scented perfume of it--and lay as if dead. It was a glorious +moment. Nepeese, looking down on him, could not see that he was +breathing. + +There came an interruption. It was the snapping of a dry stick. Through +the forest Pierrot had come with the stealth of a cat, and when they +looked up, he stood at the edge of the open. Baree knew that it was not +Bush McTaggart. But it was a man-beast! Instantly his body stiffened +under the Willow's hand. He drew back slowly and cautiously from her +lap, and as Pierrot advanced, Baree snarled. The next instant Nepeese +had risen and had run to Pierrot. The look in her father's face alarmed +her. + +"What has happened, mon pere?" she cried. + +Pierrot shrugged his shoulders. + +"Nothing, ma Nepeese--except that you have roused a thousand devils in +the heart of the factor from Lac Barn, and that--" + +He stopped as he saw Baree, and pointed at him. + +"Last night when M'sieu the Factor caught him in a snare, he bit +m'sieu's hand. M'sieu's hand is swollen twice its size, and I can see +his blood turning black. It is pechipoo." + +"Pechipoo!" gasped Nepeese. + +She looked into Pierrot's eyes. They were dark, and filled with a +sinister gleam--a flash of exultation, she thought. + +"Yes, it is the blood poison," said Pierrot. A gleam of cunning shot +into his eyes as he looked over his shoulder, and nodded. "I have +hidden the medicine--and told him there is no time to lose in getting +back to Lac Bain. And he is afraid--that devil! He is waiting. With +that blackening hand, he is afraid to start back alone--and so I go +with him. And--listen, ma Nepeese. We will be away by sundown, and +there is something you must know before I go." + +Baree saw them there, close together in the shadows thrown by the tall +spruce trees. He heard the low murmur of their voices--chiefly of +Pierrot's, and at last he saw Nepeese put her two arms up around the +man-beast's neck, and then Pierrot went away again into the forest. He +thought that the Willow would never turn her face toward him after +that. For a long time she stood looking in the direction which Pierrot +had taken. And when after a time she turned and came back to Baree, she +did not look like the Nepeese who had been twining flowers in her hair. +The laughter was gone from her face and eyes. She knelt down beside him +and with sudden fierceness she cried: + +"It is pechipoo, Baree! It was you--you--who put the poison in his +blood. And I hope he dies! For I am afraid--afraid!" + +She shivered. + +Perhaps it was in this moment that the Great Spirit of things meant +Baree to understand--that at last it was given him to comprehend that +his day had dawned, that the rising and the setting of his sun no +longer existed in the sky but in this girl whose hand rested on his +head. He whined softly, and inch by inch he dragged himself nearer to +her until again his head rested in the hollow of her lap. + + + +CHAPTER 15 + +For a long time after Pierrot left them the Willow did not move from +the spot where she had seated herself beside Baree. It was at last the +deepening shadows and a low rumble in the sky that roused her from the +fear of the things Pierrot had told her. When she looked up, black +clouds were massing slowly over the open space above the spruce tops. +Darkness was falling. In the whisper of the wind and the dead stillness +of the thickening gloom there was the sullen brewing of storm. Tonight +there would be no glorious sunset. There would be no twilight hour in +which to follow the trail, no moon, no stars--and unless Pierrot and +the factor were already on their way, they would not start in the face +of the pitch blackness that would soon shroud the forest. + +Nepeese shivered and rose to her feet. For the first time Baree got up, +and he stood close at her side. Above them a flash of lightning cut the +clouds like a knife of fire, followed in an instant by a terrific crash +of thunder. Baree shrank back as if struck a blow. He would have slunk +into the shelter of the brush wall of the wigwam, but there was +something about the Willow as he looked at her which gave him +confidence. The thunder crashed again. But he retreated no farther. His +eyes were fixed on Nepeese. + +She stood straight and slim in that gathering gloom riven by the +lightning, her beautiful head thrown back, her lips parted, and her +eyes glowing with an almost eager anticipation--a sculptured goddess +welcoming with bated breath the onrushing forces of the heavens. +Perhaps it was because she was born during a night of storm. Many times +Pierrot and the dead princess mother had told her that--how on the +night she had come into the world the crash of thunder and the flare of +lightning had made the hours an inferno, how the streams had burst over +their banks and the stems of ten thousand forest trees had snapped in +its fury--and the beat of the deluge on their cabin roof had drowned +the sound of her mother's pain, and of her own first babyish cries. + +On that night, it may be, the Spirit of Storm was born in Nepeese. She +loved to face it, as she was facing it now. It made her forget all +things but the splendid might of nature. Her half-wild soul thrilled to +the crash and fire of it. Often she had reached up her bare arms and +laughed with joy as the deluge burst about her. Even now she might have +stood there in the little open until the rain fell, if a whine from +Baree had not caused her to turn. As the first big drops struck with +the dull thud of leaden bullets about them, she went with him into the +balsam shelter. + +Once before Baree had passed through a night of terrible storm--the +night he had hidden himself under a root and had seen the tree riven by +lightning; but now he had company, and the warmth and soft pressure of +the Willow's hand on his head and neck filled him with a strange +courage. He growled softly at the crashing thunder. He wanted to snap +at the lightning flashes. Under her hand Nepeese felt the stiffening of +his body, and in a moment of uncanny stillness she heard the sharp, +uneasy click of his teeth. Then the rain fell. + +It was not like other rains Baree had known. It was an inundation +sweeping down out of the blackness of the skies. Within five minutes +the interior of the balsam shelter was a shower bath. After half an +hour of that torrential downpour, Nepeese was soaked to the skin. The +water ran in little rivulets down her body. It trickled in tiny streams +from her drenched braids and dropped from her long lashes, and the +blanket under her became wet as a mop. To Baree it was almost as bad as +his near-drowning in the stream after his fight with Papayuchisew, and +he snuggled closer and closer under the sheltering arm of the Willow. +It seemed an interminable time before the thunder rolled far to the +east, and the lightning died away into distant and intermittent +flashings. Even after that the rain fell for another hour. Then it +stopped as suddenly as it had begun. + +With a laughing gasp Nepeese rose to her feet. The water gurgled in her +moccasins as she walked out into the open. She paid no attention to +Baree--and he followed her. Across the open in the treetops the last of +the storm clouds were drifting away. A star shone--then another; and +the Willow stood watching them as they appeared until there were so +many she could not count. It was no longer black. A wonderful starlight +flooded the open after the inky gloom of the storm. + +Nepeese looked down and saw Baree. He was standing quietly and +unleashed, with freedom on all sides of him. Yet he did not run. He was +waiting, wet as a water rat, with his eyes fixed on her expectantly. +Nepeese made a movement toward him, and hesitated. + +"No, you will not run away, Baree. I will leave you free. And now we +must have a fire!" + +A fire! Anyone but Pierrot might have said that she was crazy. Not a +stem or twig in the forest that was not dripping! They could hear the +trickle of running water all about them. + +"A fire," she said again. "Let us hunt for the wuskisi, Baree." + +With her wet clothes clinging to her lightly, she was like a slim +shadow as she crossed the soggy clearing and lost herself among the +forest trees. Baree still followed. She went straight to a birch tree +that she had located that day and began tearing off the loose bark. An +armful of this bark she carried close to the wigwam, and on it she +heaped load after load of wet wood until she had a great pile. From a +bottle in the wigwam she secured a dry match, and at the first touch of +its tiny flame the birch bark flared up like paper soaked in oil. Half +an hour later the Willow's fire--if there had been no forest walls to +hide it--could have been seen at the cabin a mile away. Not until it +was blazing a dozen feet into the air did she cease piling wood on it. +Then she drove sticks into the soft ground and over these sticks she +stretched the blanket out to dry. + +So their first night passed--storm, the cool, deep pool, the big fire; +and later, when the Willow's clothes and the blanket had dried, a few +hours' sleep. At dawn they returned to the cabin. It was a cautious +approach. There was no smoke coming from the chimney. The door was +closed. Pierrot and Bush McTaggart were gone. + + + +CHAPTER 16 + +It was the beginning of August--the Flying-up Moon--when Pierrot +returned from Lac Bain, and in three days more it would be the Willow's +seventeenth birthday. He brought back with him many things for +Nepeese--ribbons for her hair, real shoes, which she wore at times like +the two Englishwomen at Nelson House, and chief glory of all, some +wonderful red cloth for a dress. In the three winters she had spent at +the mission these women had made much of Nepeese. They had taught her +to sew as well as to spell and read and pray, and at times there came +to the Willow a compelling desire to do as they did. + +So for three days Nepeese worked hard on her new dress and on her +birthday she stood before Pierrot in a fashion that took his breath +away. She had piled her hair in great coils on the crown of her head, +as Yvonne, the younger of the Englishwomen, had taught her, and in the +rich jet of it had half buried a vivid sprig of the crimson fireflower. +Under this, and the glow in her eyes, and the red flush of her lips and +cheeks came the wonderful red dress, fitted to the slim and sinuous +beauty of her form--as the style had been two winters ago at Nelson +House. And below the dress, which reached just below the knees--Nepeese +had quite forgotten the proper length, or else her material had run +out--came the coup de maitre of her toilet, real stockings and the gay +shoes with high heels! She was a vision before which the gods of the +forests might have felt their hearts stop beating. Pierrot turned her +round and round without a word, but smiling. When she left him, +however, followed by Baree, and limping a little because of the +tightness of her shoes, the smile faded from his face, leaving it cold +and bleak. + +"Mon Dieu," he whispered to himself in French, with a thought that was +like a sharp stab at his heart, "she is not of her mother's blood--non. +It is French. She is--yes--like an angel." + +A change had come over Pierrot. During the three days she had been +engaged in her dressmaking, Nepeese had been quite too excited to +notice this change, and Pierrot had tried to keep it from her. He had +been away ten days on the trip to Lac Bain, and he brought back to +Nepeese the joyous news that M'sieu McTaggart was very sick with +pechipoo--the blood poison--news that made the Willow clap her hands +and laugh happily. But he knew that the factor would get well, and that +he would come again to their cabin on the Gray Loon. And when next time +he came-- + +It was while he was thinking of this that his face grew cold and hard, +and his eyes burned. And he was thinking of it on this her birthday, +even as her laughter floated to him like a song. dim, in spite of her +seventeen years, she was nothing but a child--a baby! She could not +guess his horrible visions. And the dread of awakening her for all time +from that beautiful childhood kept him from telling her the whole truth +so that she might have understood fully and completely. Non, it should +not be that. His soul beat with a great and gentle love. He, Pierrot Du +Quesne, would do the watching. And she should laugh and sing and +play--and have no share in the black forebodings that had come to spoil +his life. + +On this day there came up from the south MacDonald, the government map +maker. He was gray and grizzled, with a great, free laugh and a clean +heart. Two days he remained with Pierrot. He told Nepeese of his +daughters at home, of their mother, whom he worshiped more than +anything else on earth--and before he went on in his quest of the last +timber line of Banksian pine, he took pictures of the Willow as he had +first seen her on her birthday: her hair piled in glossy coils, her red +dress, the high-heeled shoes. He carried the negatives on with him, +promising Pierrot that he would get a picture back in some way. Thus +fate works in its strange and apparently innocent ways as it spins its +webs of tragedy. + + +For many weeks after MacDonald's visit there followed tranquil days on +the Gray Loon. They were wonderful days for Baree. At first he was +suspicious of Pierrot. After a little he tolerated him, and at last +accepted him as a part of the cabin--and Nepeese. It was the Willow +whose shadow he became. Pierrot noted the attachment with the deepest +satisfaction. + +"Ah, in a few months more, if he should leap at the throat of M'sieu +the Factor," he said to himself one day. + +In September, when he was six months old, Baree was almost as large as +Gray Wolf--big-boned, long-fanged, with a deep chest, and jaws that +could already crack a bone as if it were a stick. He was with Nepeese +whenever and wherever she moved. They swam together in the two +pools--the pool in the forest and the pool between the chasm walls. At +first it alarmed Baree to see Nepeese dive from the rock wall over +which she had pushed McTaggart, but at the end of a month she had +taught him to plunge after her through that twenty feet of space. + +It was late in August when Baree saw the first of his kind outside of +Kazan and Gray Wolf. During the summer Pierrot allowed his dogs to run +at large on a small island in the center of a lake two or three miles +away, and twice a week he netted fish for them. On one of these trips +Nepeese accompanied him and took Baree with her. Pierrot carried his +long caribou-gut whip. He expected a fight. But there was none. Baree +joined the pack in their rush for fish, and ate with them. This pleased +Pierrot more than ever. + +"He will make a great sledge dog," he chuckled. "It is best to leave +him for a week with the pack, ma Nepeese." + +Reluctantly Nepeese gave her consent. While the dogs were still at +their fish, they started homeward. Their canoe had slipped away before +Baree discovered the trick they had played on him. Instantly he leaped +into the water and swam after them--and the Willow helped him into his +canoe. + +Early in September a passing Indian brought Pierrot word of Bush +McTaggart. The factor had been very sick. He had almost died from the +blood poison, but he was well now. With the first exhilarating tang of +autumn in the air a new dread oppressed Pierrot. But at present he said +nothing of what was in his mind to Nepeese. The Willow had almost +forgotten the factor from Lac Bain, for the glory and thrill of +wilderness autumn was in her blood. She went on long trips with +Pierrot, helping him to blaze out the new trap lines that would be used +when the first snows came, and on these journeys she was always +accompanied by Baree. + +Most of Nepeese's spare hours she spent in training him for the sledge. +She began with a babiche string and a stick. It was a whole day before +she could induce Baree to drag this stick without turning at every +other step to snap and growl at it. Then she fastened another length of +babiche to him, and made him drag two sticks. Thus little by little she +trained him to the sledge harness, until at the end of a fortnight he +was tugging heroically at anything she had a mind to fasten him to. +Pierrot brought home two of the dogs from the island, and Baree was put +into training with these, and helped to drag the empty sledge. Nepeese +was delighted. On the day the first light snow fell she clapped her +hands and cried to Pierrot: + +"By midwinter I will have him the finest dog in the pack, mon pere!" + +This was the time for Pierrot to say what was in his mind. He smiled. +Diantre--would not that beast the factor fall into the very devil of a +rage when he found how he had been cheated! And yet-- + +He tried to make his voice quiet and commonplace. + +"I am going to send you down to the school at Nelson House again this +winter, ma cherie," he said. "Baree will help draw you down on the +first good snow." + +The Willow was tying a knot in Baree's babiche, and she rose slowly to +her feet and looked at Pierrot. Her eyes were big and dark and steady. + +"I am not going, mon pere!" + +It was the first time Nepeese had ever said that to Pierrot--in just +that way. It thrilled him. And he could scarcely face the look in her +eyes. He was not good at bluffing. She saw what was in his face; it +seemed to him that she was reading what was in his mind, and that she +grew a little taller as she stood there. Certainly her breath came +quicker, and he could see the throb of her breast. Nepeese did not wait +for him to gather speech. + +"I am not going!" she repeated with even greater finality, and bent +again over Baree. + +With a shrug of his shoulders Pierrot watched her. After all, was he +not glad? Would his heart not have turned sick if she had been happy at +the thought of leaving him? He moved to her side and with great +gentleness laid a hand on her glossy head. Up from under it the Willow +smiled at him. Between them they heard the click of Baree's jaws as he +rested his muzzle on the Willow's arm. For the first time in weeks the +world seemed suddenly filled with sunshine for Pierrot. When he went +back to the cabin he held his head higher. Nepeese would not leave him! +He laughed softly. He rubbed his hands together. His fear of the factor +from Lac Bain was gone. From the cabin door he looked back at Nepeese +and Baree. + +"The Saints be blessed!" he murmured. "Now--now--it is Pierrot Du +Quesne who knows what to do!" + + + +CHAPTER 17 + +Back to Lac Bain, late in September, came MacDonald the map maker. For +ten days Gregson, the investigating agent, had been Bush McTaggart's +guest at the Post, and twice in that time it had come into Marie's mind +to creep upon him while he slept and kill him. The factor himself paid +little attention to her now, a fact which would have made her happy if +it had not been for Gregson. He was enraptured with the wild, sinuous +beauty of the Cree girl, and McTaggart, without jealousy, encouraged +him. He was tired of Marie. + +McTaggart told Gregson this. He wanted to get rid of her, and if +he--Gregson--could possibly take her along with him it would be a great +favor. He explained why. A little later, when the deep snows came, he +was going to bring the daughter of Pierrot Du Quesne to the Post. In +the rottenness of their brotherhood he told of his visit, of the manner +of his reception, and of the incident at the chasm. In spite of all +this, he assured Gregson, Pierrot's girl would soon be at Lac Bain. + +It was at this time that MacDonald came. He remained only one night, +and without knowing that he was adding fuel to a fire already +dangerously blazing, he gave the photograph he had taken of Nepeese to +the factor. It was a splendid picture. + +"If you can get it down to that girl some day I'll be mightily +obliged," he said to McTaggart. "I promised her one. Her father's name +is Du Quesne--Pierrot Du Quesne. You probably know them. And the girl--" + +His blood warmed as he described to McTaggart how beautiful she was +that day in her red dress, which appeared black in the photograph. He +did not guess how near McTaggart's blood was to the boiling point. + +The next day MacDonald started for Norway House. McTaggart did not show +Gregson the picture. He kept it to himself and at night, under the glow +of his lamp, he looked at it with thoughts that filled him with a +growing resolution. There was but one way. The scheme had been in his +mind for weeks--and the picture determined him. He dared not whisper +his secret even to Gregson. But it was the one way. It would give him +Nepeese. Only--he must wait for the deep snows, the midwinter snows. +They buried their tragedies deepest. + +McTaggart was glad when Gregson followed the map maker to Norway House. +Out of courtesy he accompanied him a day's journey on his way. When he +returned to the Post, Marie was gone. He was glad. He sent off a runner +with a load of presents for her people, and the message: "Don't beat +her. Keep her. She is free." + +Along with the bustle and stir of the beginning of the trapping season +McTaggart began to prepare his house for the coming of Nepeese. He knew +what she liked in the way of cleanliness and a few other things. He had +the log walls painted white with the lead and oil that were intended +for his York boats. Certain partitions were torn down, and new ones +were built. The Indian wife of his chief runner made curtains for the +windows, and he confiscated a small phonograph that should have gone on +to Lac la Biche. He had no doubts, and he counted the days as they +passed. + +Down on the Gray Loon Pierrot and Nepeese were busy at many things, so +busy that at times Pierrot's fears of the factor at Lac Bain were +almost forgotten, and they slipped out of the Willow's mind entirely. +It was the Red Moon, and both thrilled with the anticipation and +excitement of the winter hunt. Nepeese carefully dipped a hundred traps +in boiling caribou fat mixed with beaver grease, while Pierrot made +fresh deadfalls ready for setting on his trails. When he was gone more +than a day from the cabin, she was always with him. + +But at the cabin there was much to do, for Pierrot, like all his +Northern brotherhood, did not begin to prepare until the keen tang of +autumn was in the air. There were snowshoes to be rewebbed with new +babiche; there was wood to be cut in readiness for the winter storms. +The cabin had to be banked, a new harness made, skinning knives +sharpened and winter moccasins to be manufactured --a hundred and one +affairs to be attended to, even to the repairing of the meat rack at +the back of the cabin, where, from the beginning of cold weather until +the end, would hang the haunches of deer, caribou, and moose for the +family larder and, when fish were scarce, the dogs' rations. + +In the bustle of all these preparations Nepeese was compelled to give +less attention to Baree than she had during the preceding weeks. They +did not play so much; they no longer swam, for with the mornings there +was deep frost on the ground, and the water was turning icy cold. They +no longer wandered deep in the forest after flowers and berries. For +hours at a time Baree would now lie at the Willow's feet, watching her +slender fingers as they weaved swiftly in and out with her snowshoe +babiche. And now and then Nepeese would pause to lean over and put her +hand on his head, and talk to him for a moment--sometimes in her soft +Cree, sometimes in English or her father's French. + +It was the Willow's voice which Baree had learned to understand, and +the movement of her lips, her gestures, the poise of her body, the +changing moods which brought shadow or sunlight into her face. He knew +what it meant when she smiled. He would shake himself, and often jump +about her in sympathetic rejoicing, when she laughed. Her happiness was +such a part of him that a stern word from her was worse than a blow. +Twice Pierrot had struck him, and twice Baree had leaped back and faced +him with bared fangs and an angry snarl, the crest along his back +standing up like a brush. Had one of the other dogs done this, Pierrot +would have half-killed him. It would have been mutiny, and the man must +be master. But Baree was always safe. A touch of the Willow's hand, a +word from her lips, and the crest slowly settled and the snarl went out +of his throat. + +Pierrot was not at all displeased. + +"Dieu. I will never go so far as to try and whip that out of him," he +told himself. "He is a barbarian--a wild beast--and her slave. For her +he would kill!" + +So it turned out, through Pierrot himself--and without telling his +reason for it--that Baree did not become a sledge dog. He was allowed +his freedom, and was never tied, like the others. Nepeese was glad, but +did not guess the thought that was in Pierrot's mind. To himself +Pierrot chuckled. She would never know why he kept Baree always +suspicious of him, even to the point of hating him. + +It required considerable skill and cunning on his part. With himself he +reasoned: + +"If I make him hate me, he will hate all men. Mey-oo! That is good." + +So he looked into the future--for Nepeese. + +Now the tonic-filled days and cold, frosty nights of the Red Moon +brought about the big change in Baree. It was inevitable. Pierrot knew +that it would come, and the first night that Baree settled back on his +haunches and howled up at the Red Moon, Pierrot prepared Nepeese for it. + +"He is a wild dog, ma Nepeese," he said to her. "He is half wolf, and +the Call will come to him strong. He will go into the forests. He will +disappear at times. But we must not fasten him. He will come back. Ka, +he will come back!" And he rubbed his hands in the moonglow until his +knuckles cracked. + +The Call came to Baree like a thief entering slowly and cautiously into +a forbidden place. He did not understand it at first. It made him +nervous and uneasy, so restless that Nepeese frequently heard him whine +softly in his sleep. He was waiting for something. What was it? Pierrot +knew, and smiled in his inscrutable way. + +And then it came. It was night, a glorious night filled with moon and +stars, under which the earth was whitening with a film of frost, when +they heard the first hunt call of the wolves. Now and then during the +summer there had come the lone wolf howl, but this was the tonguing of +the pack; and as it floated through the vast silence and mystery of the +night, a song of savagery that had come with each Red Moon down through +unending ages, Pierrot knew that at last had come that for which Baree +had been waiting. + +In an instant Baree had sensed it. His muscles grew taut as pieces of +stretched rope as he stood up in the moonlight, facing the direction +from which floated the mystery and thrill of the sound. They could hear +him whining softly; and Pierrot, bending down so that he caught the +light of the night properly, could see him trembling. + +"It is Mee-Koo!" he said in a whisper to Nepeese. + +That was it, the call of the blood that was running swift in Baree's +veins--not alone the call of his species, but the call of Kazan and +Gray Wolf and of his forbears for generations unnumbered. It was the +voice of his people. So Pierrot had whispered, and he was right. In the +golden night the Willow was waiting, for it was she who had gambled +most, and it was she who must lose or win. She uttered no sound, +replied not to the low voice of Pierrot, but held her breath and +watched Baree as he slowly faded away, step by step, into the shadows. +In a few moments more he was gone. It was then that she stood straight, +and flung back her head, with eyes that glowed in rivalry with the +stars. + +"Baree!" she called. "Baree! Baree! Baree!" + +He must have been near the edge of the forest, for she had drawn a +slow, waiting breath or two before he was and he whined up into her +face. Nepeese put her hands to his head. + +"You are right, mon pere," she said. "He will go to the wolves, but he +will come back. He will never leave me for long." With one hand still +on Baree's head, she pointed with the other into the pitlike blackness +of the forest. "Go to them, Baree!" she whispered. "But you must come +back. You must. Cheamao!" + +With Pierrot she went into the cabin; the door closed silence. In it he +could hear the soft night sounds: the clinking of the chains to which +the dogs were fastened, the restless movement of their bodies, the +throbbing whir of a pair of wings, the breath of the night itself. For +to him this night, even in its stillness, seemed alive. Again he went +into it, and close to the forest once more he stopped to listen. The +wind had turned, and on it rode the wailing, blood-thrilling cry of the +pack. Far off to the west a lone wolf turned his muzzle to the sky and +answered that gathering call of his clan. And then out of the east came +a voice, so far beyond the cabin that it was like an echo dying away in +the vastness of the night. + +A choking note gathered in Baree's throat. He threw up his head. +Straight above him was the Red Moon, inviting him to the thrill and +mystery of the open world. + +The sound grew in his throat, and slowly it rose in volume until his +answer was rising to the stars. In their cabin Pierrot and the Willow +heard it. Pierrot shrugged his shoulders. + +"He is gone," he said. + +"Oui, he is gone, mon pere" replied Nepeese, peering through the window. + + + +CHAPTER 18 + +No longer, as in the days of old, did the darkness of the forests hold +a fear for Baree. This night his hunt cry had risen to the stars and +the moon, and in that cry he had, for the first time, sent forth his +defiance of night and space, his warning to all the wild, and his +acceptance of the Brotherhood. In that cry, and the answers that came +back to him, he sensed a new power--the final triumph of nature in +telling him that the forests and the creatures they held were no longer +to be feared, but that all things feared him. Off there, beyond the +pale of the cabin and the influence of Nepeese, were all the things +that the wolf blood in him found now most desirable: companionship of +his kind, the lure of adventure, the red, sweet blood of the chase--and +matehood. This last, after all, was the dominant mystery that was +urging him, and yet least of all did he understand it. + +He ran straight into the darkness to the north and west, slinking low +under the bushes, his tail drooping, his ears aslant--the wolf as the +wolf runs on the night trail. The pack had swung due north, and was +traveling faster than he, so that at the end of half an hour he could +no longer hear it. But the lone wolf howl to the west was nearer, and +three times Baree gave answer to it. + +At the end of an hour he heard the pack again, swinging southward. +Pierrot would easily have understood. Their quarry had found safety +beyond water, or in a lake, and the muhekuns were on a fresh trail. By +this time not more than a quarter of a mile of the forest separated +Baree from the lone wolf, but the lone wolf was also an old wolf, and +with the directness and precision of long experience, he swerved in the +direction of the hunters, compassing his trail so that he was heading +for a point half or three-quarters of a mile in advance of the pack. + +This was a trick of the Brotherhood which Baree had yet to learn; and +the result of his ignorance, and lack of skill, was that twice within +the next half-hour he found himself near to the pack without being able +to join it. Then came a long and final silence. The pack had pulled +down its kill, and in their feasting they made no sound. + +The rest of the night Baree wandered alone, or at least until the moon +was well on the wane. He was a long way from the cabin, and his trail +had been an uncertain and twisting one, but he was no longer possessed +with the discomforting sensation of being lost. The last two or three +months had been developing strongly in him the sense of orientation, +that "sixth sense" which guides the pigeon unerringly on its way and +takes a bear straight as a bird might fly to its last year's denning +place. + +Baree had not forgotten Nepeese. A dozen times he turned his head back +and whined, and always he picked out accurately the direction in which +the cabin lay. But he did not turn back. As the night lengthened, his +search for that mysterious something which he had not found continued. +His hunger, even with the fading-out of the moon and the coming of the +gray dawn, was not sufficiently keen to make him hunt for food. + +It was cold, and it seemed colder when the glow of the moon and stars +died out. Under his padded feet, especially in the open spaces, was a +thick white frost in which he left clearly at times the imprint of his +toes and claws. He had traveled steadily for hours, a great many miles +in all, and he was tired when the first light of the day came. And then +there came the time when, with a sudden sharp click of his jaws, he +stopped like a shot in his tracks. + +At last it had come--the meeting with that for which he had been +seeking. It was in a clearing, lighted by the cold dawn--a tiny +amphitheater that lay on the side of a ridge, facing the east. With her +head toward him, and waiting for him as he came out of the shadows, his +scent strong in her keen nose, stood Maheegun, the young wolf. Baree +had not smelled her, but he saw her directly he came out of the rim of +young balsams that fringed the clearing. It was then that he stopped, +and for a full minute neither of them moved a muscle or seemed to +breathe. + +There was not a fortnight's difference in their age and yet Maheegun +was much the smaller of the two. Her body was as long, but she was +slimmer; she stood on slender legs that were almost like the legs of a +fox, and the curve of her back was that of a slightly bent bow, a sign +of swiftness almost equal to the wind. She stood poised for flight even +as Baree advanced his first step toward her, and then very slowly her +body relaxed, and in a direct ratio as he drew nearer her ears lost +their alertness and dropped aslant. + +Baree whined. His own ears were up, his head alert, his tail aloft and +bushy. Cleverness, if not strategy, had already become a part of his +masculine superiority, and he did not immediately press the affair. He +was within five feet of Maheegun when he casually turned away from her +and faced the east, where a faint penciling of red and gold was +heralding the day. For a few moments he sniffed and looked around and +pointed the wind with much seriousness, as though impressing on his +fair acquaintance--as many a two-legged animal has done before him--his +tremendous importance in the world at large. + +And Maheegun was properly impressed. Baree's bluff worked as +beautifully as the bluffs of the two-legged animals. He sniffed the air +with such thrilling and suspicious zeal that Maheegun's ears sprang +alert, and she sniffed it with him. He turned his head from point to +point so sharply and alertly that her feminine curiosity, if not +anxiety, made her turn her own head in questioning conjunction. And +when he whined, as though in the air he had caught a mystery which she +could not possibly understand, a responsive note gathered in her +throat, but smothered and low as a woman's exclamation when she is not +quite sure whether she should interrupt her lord or not. At this sound, +which Baree's sharp ears caught, he swung up to her with a light and +mincing step, and in another moment they were smelling noses. + +When the sun rose, half an hour later, it found them still in the small +clearing on the side of the ridge, with a deep fringe of forest under +them, and beyond that a wide, timbered plain which looked like a +ghostly shroud in its mantle of frost. Up over this came the first red +glow of the day, filling the clearing with a warmth that grew more and +more comfortable as the sun crept higher. + +Neither Baree nor Maheegun were inclined to move for a while, and for +an hour or two they lay basking in a cup of the slope, looking down +with questing and wide-awake eyes upon the wooded plain that stretched +away under them like a great sea. + +Maheegun, too, had sought the hunt pack, and like Baree had failed to +catch it. They were tired, a little discouraged for the time, and +hungry--but still alive with the fine thrill of anticipation, and +restlessly sensitive to the new and mysterious consciousness of +companionship. Half a dozen times Baree got up and nosed about Maheegun +as she lay in the sun, whining to her softly and touching her soft coat +with his muzzle, but for a long time she paid little attention to him. +At last she followed him. All that day they wandered and rested +together. Once more the night came. + +It was without moon or stars. Gray masses of clouds swept slowly down +out of the north and east, and in the treetops there was scarcely a +whisper of wind as night gathered in. The snow began to fall at dusk, +thickly, heavily, without a breath of sound. It was not cold, but it +was still--so still that Baree and Maheegun traveled only a few yards +at a time, and then stopped to listen. In this way all the night +prowlers of the forest were traveling, if they were moving at all. It +was the first of the Big Snow. + +To the flesh-eating wild things of the forests, clawed and winged, the +Big Snow was the beginning of the winter carnival of slaughter and +feasting, of wild adventure in the long nights, of merciless warfare on +the frozen trails. The days of breeding, of motherhood--the peace of +spring and summer--were over. Out of the sky came the wakening of the +Northland, the call of all flesh-eating creatures to the long hunt, and +in the first thrill of it living things were moving but little this +night, and that watchfully and with suspicion. Youth made it all new to +Baree and Maheegun. Their blood ran swiftly; their feet fell softly; +their ears were attuned to catch the slightest sounds. + +In this first of the Big Snow they felt the exciting pulse of a new +life. It lured them on. It invited them to adventure into the white +mystery of the silent storm; and inspired by that restlessness of youth +and its desires, they went on. + +The snow grew deeper under their feet. In the open spaces they waded +through it to their knees, and it continued to fall in a vast white +cloud that descended steadily out of the sky. It was near midnight when +it stopped. The clouds drifted away from under the stars and the moon, +and for a long time Baree and Maheegun stood without moving, looking +down from the bald crest of a ridge upon a wonderful world. + +Never had they been able to see so far, except in the light of day. +Under them was a plain. They could make out forests, lone trees that +stood up like shadows out of the snow, a stream--still +unfrozen--shimmering like glass with the flicker of firelight on it. +Toward this stream Baree led the way. He no longer thought of Nepeese, +and he whined with pent-up happiness as he stopped halfway down and +turned to muzzle Maheegun. He wanted to roll in the snow and frisk +about with his companion; he wanted to bark, to put up his head and +howl as he had howled at the Red Moon back at the cabin. + +Something held him from doing any of these things. Perhaps it was +Maheegun's demeanor. She accepted his attentions rigidly. Once or twice +she had seemed almost frightened; twice Baree had heard the sharp +clicking of her teeth. The previous night, and all through tonight's +storm, their companionship had grown more intimate, but now there was +taking its place a mysterious aloofness on the part of Maheegun. +Pierrot could have explained. With moon and stars above him, Baree, +like the night, had undergone a transformation which even the sunlight +of day had not made in him before. His coat was like polished jet. +Every hair in his body glistened black. BLACK! That was it. And Nature +was trying to tell Maheegun that of all the creatures hated by her +kind, the creature which they feared and hated most was black. With her +it was not experience, but instinct--telling her of the age-old feud +between the gray wolf and the black bear. And Baree's coat, in the +moonlight and the snow, was blacker than Wakayoo's had ever been in the +fish-fattening days of May. Until they struck the broad openings of the +plain, the young she-wolf had followed Baree without hesitation; now +there was a gathering strangeness and indecision in her manner, and +twice she stopped and would have let Baree go on without her. + +An hour after they entered the plain there came suddenly out of the +west the tonguing of the wolf pack. It was not far distant, probably +not more than a mile along the foot of the ridge, and the sharp, quick +yapping that followed the first outburst was evidence that the +long-fanged hunters had put up sudden game, a caribou or young moose, +and were close at its heels. At the voice of her own people Maheegun +laid her ears close to her head and was off like an arrow from a bow. + +The unexpectedness of her movement and the swiftness of her flight put +Baree well behind her in the race over the plain. She was running +blindly, favored by luck. For an interval of perhaps five minutes the +pack were so near to their game that they made no sound, and the chase +swung full into the face of Maheegun and Baree. The latter was not half +a dozen lengths behind the young wolf when a crashing in the brush +directly ahead stopped them so sharply that they tore up the snow with +their braced forefeet and squat haunches. Ten seconds later a caribou +burst through and flashed across a clearing not more than twenty yards +from where they stood. They could hear its swift panting as it +disappeared. And then came the pack. + +At sight of those swiftly moving gray bodies Baree's heart leaped for +an instant into his throat. He forgot Maheegun, and that she had run +away from him. The moon and the stars went out of existence for him. He +no longer sensed the chill of the snow under his feet. He was wolf--all +wolf. With the warm scent of the caribou in his nostrils, and the +passion to kill sweeping through him like fire, he darted after the +pack. + +Even at that, Maheegun was a bit ahead of him. He did not miss her. In +the excitement of his first chase he no longer felt the desire to have +her at his side. Very soon he found himself close to the flanks of one +of the gray monsters of the pack. Half a minute later a new hunter +swept in from the bush behind him, and then a second, and after that a +third. At times he was running shoulder to shoulder with his new +companions. He heard the whining excitement in their throats; the snap +of their jaws as they ran--and in the golden moonlight ahead of him the +sound of a caribou as it plunged through thickets and over windfalls in +its race for life. + +It was as if Baree had belonged to the pack always. He had joined it +naturally, as other stray wolves had joined it from out of the bush. +There had been no ostentation, no welcome such as Maheegun had given +him in the open, and no hostility. He belonged with these slim, +swift-footed outlaws of the old forests, and his own jaws snapped and +his blood ran hot as the smell of the caribou grew heavier, and the +sound of its crashing body nearer. + +It seemed to him they were almost at its heels when they swept into an +open plain, a stretch of barren without a tree or a shrub, brilliant in +the light of the stars and moon. Across its unbroken carpet of snow +sped the caribou a spare hundred yards ahead of the pack. Now the two +leading hunters no longer followed directly in the trail, but shot out +at an angle, one to the right and the other to the left of the pursued, +and like well-trained soldiers the pack split in halves and spread out +fan shape in the final charge. + +The two ends of the fan forged ahead and closed in, until the leaders +were running almost abreast of the caribou, with fifty or sixty feet +separating them from the pursued. Thus, adroitly and swiftly, with +deadly precision, the pack had formed a horseshoe cordon of fangs from +which there was but one course of flight--straight ahead. For the +caribou to swerve half a degree to the right or left meant death. It +was the duty of the leaders to draw in the ends of the horseshoe now, +until one or both of them could make the fatal lunge for the +hamstrings. After that it would be a simple matter. The pack would +close in over the caribou like an inundation. + +Baree had found his place in the lower rim of the horseshoe, so that he +was fairly well in the rear when the climax came. The plain made a +sudden dip. Straight ahead was the gleam of water--water shimmering +softly in the starglow, and the sight of it sent a final great spurt of +blood through the caribou's bursting heart. Forty seconds would tell +the story--forty seconds of a last spurt for life, of a final +tremendous effort to escape death. Baree felt the sudden thrill of +these moments, and he forged ahead with the others in that lower rim of +the horseshoe as one of the leading wolves made a lunge for the young +bull's hamstring. It was a clean miss. A second wolf darted in. And +this one also missed. + +There was no time for others to take their place. From the broken end +of the horseshoe Baree heard the caribou's heavy plunge into water. +When Baree joined the pack, a maddened, mouth-frothing, snarling horde, +Napamoos, the young bull, was well out in the river and swimming +steadily for the opposite shore. + +It was then that Baree found himself at the side of Maheegun. She was +panting; her red tongue hung from her open jaws. But at his presence +she brought her fangs together with a snap and slunk from him into the +heart of the wind-run and disappointed pack. The wolves were in an ugly +temper, but Baree did not sense the fact. Nepeese had trained him to +take to water like an otter, and he did not understand why this narrow +river should stop them as it had. He ran down to the water and stood +belly deep in it, facing for an instant the horde of savage beasts +above him, wondering why they did not follow. And he was black--BLACK. +He came among them again, and for the first time they noticed him. + +The restless movements of the waters ceased now. A new and wondering +interest held them rigid. Fangs closed sharply. A little in the open +Baree saw Maheegun, with a big gray wolf standing near her. He went to +her again, and this time she remained with flattened ears until he was +sniffing her neck. And then, with a vicious snarl, she snapped at him. +Her teeth sank deep in the soft flesh of his shoulder, and at the +unexpectedness and pain of her attack, he let out a yelp. The next +instant the big gray wolf was at him. + +Again caught unexpectedly, Baree went down with the wolf's fangs at his +throat. But in him was the blood of Kazan, the flesh and bone and sinew +of Kazan, and for the first time in his life he fought as Kazan fought +on that terrible day at the top of the Sun Rock. He was young; he had +yet to learn the cleverness and the strategy of the veteran. But his +jaws were like the iron clamps with which Pierrot set his bear traps, +and in his heart was sudden and blinding rage, a desire to kill that +rose above all sense of pain or fear. + +That fight, if it had been fair, would have been a victory for Baree, +even in his youth and inexperience. In fairness the pack should have +waited. It was a law of the pack to wait--until one was done for. But +Baree was black. He was a stranger, an interloper, a creature whom they +noticed now in a moment when their blood was hot with the rage and +disappointment of killers who had missed their prey. A second wolf +sprang in, striking Baree treacherously from the flank. And while he +was in the snow, his jaws crushing the foreleg of his first foe, the +pack was on him en masse. + +Such an attack on the young caribou bull would have meant death in less +than a minute. Every fang would have found its hold. Baree, by the +fortunate circumstance that he was under his first two assailants and +protected by their bodies, was saved from being torn instantly into +pieces. He knew that he was fighting for his life. Over him the horde +of beasts rolled and twisted and snarled. He felt the burning pain of +teeth sinking into his flesh. He was smothered; a hundred knives seemed +cutting him into pieces; yet no sound--not a whimper or a cry--came +from him now in the horror and hopelessness of it all. + +It would have ended in another half-minute had the struggle not been at +the very edge of the bank. Undermined by the erosion of the spring +floods, a section of this bank suddenly gave way, and with it went +Baree and half the pack. In a flash Baree thought of the water and the +escaping caribou. For a bare instant the cave-in had set him free of +the pack, and in that space he gave a single leap over the gray backs +of his enemies into the deep water of the stream. Close behind him half +a dozen jaws snapped shut on empty air. As it had saved the caribou, so +this strip of water shimmering in the glow of the moon and stars had +saved Baree. + +The stream was not more than a hundred feet in width, but it cost Baree +close to a losing struggle to get across it. Until he dragged himself +out on the opposite shore, the extent of his injuries was not impressed +upon him fully. One hind leg, for the time, was useless. His forward +left shoulder was laid open to the bone. His head and body were torn +and cut; and as he dragged himself slowly away from the stream, the +trail he left in the snow was a red path of blood. It trickled from his +panting jaws, between which his tongue was bleeding. It ran down his +legs and flanks and belly, and it dripped from his ears, one of which +was slit clean for two inches as though cut with a knife. His instincts +were dazed, his perception of things clouded as if by a veil drawn +close over his eyes. He did not hear, a few minutes later, the howling +of the disappointed wolf horde on the other side of the river, and he +no longer sensed the existence of moon or stars. Half dead, he dragged +himself on until by chance he came to a clump of dwarf spruce. Into +this he struggled, and then he dropped exhausted. + +All that night and until noon the next day Baree lay without moving. +The fever burned in his blood. It flamed high and swift toward death; +then it ebbed slowly, and life conquered. At noon he came forth. He was +weak, and he wobbled on his legs. His hind leg still dragged, and he +was racked with pain. But it was a splendid day. The sun was warm; the +snow was thawing; the sky was like a great blue sea; and the floods of +life coursed warmly again through Baree's veins. But now, for all time, +his desires were changed, and his great quest at an end. + +A red ferocity grew in Baree's eyes as he snarled in the direction of +last night's fight with the wolves. They were no longer his people. +They were no longer of his blood. Never again could the hunt call lure +him or the voice of the pack rouse the old longing. In him there was a +thing newborn, an undying hatred for the wolf, a hatred that was to +grow in him until it became like a disease in his vitals, a thing ever +present and insistent, demanding vengeance on their kind. Last night he +had gone to them a comrade. Today he was an outcast. Cut and maimed, +bearing with him scars for all time, he had learned his lesson of the +wilderness. Tomorrow, and the next day, and for days after that without +number, he would remember the lesson well. + + + +CHAPTER 19 + +At the cabin on the Gray Loon, on the fourth night of Baree's absence, +Pierrot was smoking his pipe after a great supper of caribou tenderloin +he had brought in from the trail, and Nepeese was listening to his tale +of the remarkable shot he had made, when a sound at the door +interrupted them. Nepeese opened it, and Baree came in. The cry of +welcome that was on the girl's lips died there instantly, and Pierrot +stared as if he could not quite believe this creature that had returned +was the wolf dog. Three days and nights of hunger in which he could not +hunt because of the leg that dragged had put on him the marks of +starvation. Battle-scarred and covered with dried blood clots that +still clung tenaciously to his long hair, he was a sight that drew at +last a long despairing breath from Nepeese. A queer smile was growing +in Pierrot's face as he leaned forward in his chair. Then slowly rising +to his feet and looking closer, he said to Nepeese: + +"Ventre Saint Gris! Oui, he has been to the pack, Nepeese, and the pack +turned on him. It was not a two-wolf fight--non! It was the pack. He is +cut and torn in fifty places. And--mon Dieu, he is alive!" + +In Pierrot's voice there was growing wonder and amazement. He was +incredulous, and yet he could not disbelieve what his eyes told him. +What had happened was nothing short of a miracle, and for a time he +uttered not a word more but remained staring in silence while Nepeese +recovered from her astonishment to give Baree doctoring and food. After +he had eaten ravenously of cold boiled mush she began bathing his +wounds in warm water, and after that she soothed them with bear grease, +talking to him all the time in her soft Cree. After the pain and hunger +and treachery of his adventure, it was a wonderful homecoming for +Baree. He slept that night at the foot of the Willow's bed. The next +morning it was the cool caress of his tongue on her hand that awakened +her. + +With this day they resumed the comradeship interrupted by Baree's +temporary desertion. The attachment was greater than ever on Baree's +part. It was he who had run away from the Willow, who had deserted her +at the call of the pack, and it seemed at times as though he sensed the +depths of his perfidy and was striving to make amends. There was +indubitably a very great change in him. He clung to Nepeese like a +shadow. Instead of sleeping at night in the spruce shelter Pierrot made +for him, he made himself a little hollow in the earth close to the +cabin door. Pierrot thought that he understood, and Nepeese thought +that she understood even more; but in reality the key to the mystery +remained with Baree himself. He no longer played as he had played +before he went off alone into the forest. He did not chase sticks, or +run until he was winded, for the pure joy of running. His puppyishness +was gone. In its place was a great worship and a rankling bitterness, a +love for the girl and a hatred for the pack and all that it stood for. +Whenever he heard the wolf howl, it brought an angry snarl into his +throat, and he would bare his fangs until even Pierrot would draw a +little away from him. But a touch of the girl's hand would quiet him. + +In a week or two the heavier snows came, and Pierrot began making his +trips over the trap lines. Nepeese had entered into an exciting bargain +with him this winter. Pierrot had taken her into partnership. Every +fifth trap, every fifth deadfall, and every fifth poison bait was to be +her own, and what they caught or killed was to bring a bit nearer to +realization a wonderful dream that was growing in the Willow's heart. +Pierrot had promised. If they had great luck that winter, they would go +down together on the last snows to Nelson House and buy the little old +organ that was for sale there. And if the organ was sold, they would +work another winter, and get a new one. + +This plan gave Nepeese an enthusiastic and tireless interest in the +trap line. With Pierrot it was more or less a fine bit of strategy. He +would have sold his hand to give Nepeese the organ. He was determined +that she should have it, whether the fifth traps and the fifth +deadfalls and fifth poison baits caught the fur or not. The partnership +meant nothing so far as the actual returns were concerned. But in +another way it meant to Nepeese a business interest, the thrill of +personal achievement. Pierrot impressed on her that it made a comrade +and coworker of her on the trail. His scheme was to keep her with him +when he was away from the cabin. He knew that Bush McTaggart would come +again to the Gray Loon, probably more than once during the winter. He +had swift dogs, and it was a short journey. And when McTaggart came, +Nepeese must not be at the cabin--alone. + +Pierrot's trap line swung into the north and west, covering in all a +matter of fifty miles, with an average of two traps, one deadfall, and +a poison bait to each mile. It was a twisting line blazed along streams +for mink, otter, and marten, piercing the deepest forests for fishercat +and lynx and crossing lakes and storm-swept strips of barrens where +poison baits could be set for fox and wolf. Halfway over this line +Pierrot had built a small log cabin, and at the end of it another, so +that a day's work meant twenty-five miles. This was easy for Pierrot, +and not hard on Nepeese after the first few days. + +All through October and November they made the trips regularly, making +the round every six days, which gave one day of rest at the cabin on +the Gray Loon and another day in the cabin at the end of the trail. To +Pierrot the winter's work was business, the labor of his people for +many generations back. To Nepeese and Baree it was a wild and joyous +adventure that never for a day grew tiresome. Even Pierrot could not +quite immunize himself against their enthusiasm. It was infectious, and +he was happier than he had been since his sun had set that evening the +princess mother died. + +They were glorious months. Fur was thick, and it was steadily cold +without any bad storms. Nepeese not only carried a small pack on her +shoulders in order that Pierrot's load might be lighter, but she +trained Baree to bear tiny shoulder panniers which she manufactured. In +these panniers Baree carried the bait. In at least a third of the total +number of traps set there was always what Pierrot called +trash--rabbits, owls, whisky jacks, jays, and squirrels. These, with +the skin or feathers stripped off, made up the bulk of the bait for the +traps ahead. + +One afternoon early in December, as they were returning to the Gray +Loon, Pierrot stopped suddenly a dozen paces ahead of Nepeese and +stared at the snow. A strange snowshoe trail had joined their own and +was heading toward the cabin. For half a minute Pierrot was silent and +scarcely moved a muscle as he stared. The trail came straight out of +the north--and off there was Lac Bain. + +Also they were the marks of large snowshoes, and the stride indicated +was that of a tall man. Before Pierrot had spoken, Nepeese had guessed +what they meant. +"M'sieu the Factor from Lac Bain!" she said. + +Baree was sniffing suspiciously at the strange trail. They heard the +low growl in his throat, and Pierrot's shoulders stiffened. + +"Yes, the m'sieu," he said. + +The Willow's heart beat more swiftly as they went on. She was not +afraid of McTaggart, not physically afraid. And yet something rose up +in her breast and choked her at the thought of his presence on the Gray +Loon. Why was he there? It was not necessary for Pierrot to answer the +question, even had she given voice to it. She knew. The factor from Lac +Bain had no business there--except to see her. The blood burned red in +her cheeks as she thought again of that minute on the edge of the chasm +when he had almost crushed her in his arms. Would he try that again? + +Pierrot, deep in his own somber thoughts, scarcely heard the strange +laugh that came suddenly from her lips. Nepeese was listening to the +growl that was again in Baree's throat. It was a low but terrible +sound. When half a mile from the cabin, she unslung the panniers from +his shoulders and carried them herself. Ten minutes later they saw a +man advancing to meet them. + +It was not McTaggart. Pierrot recognized him, and with an audible +breath of relief waved his hand. It was DeBar, who trapped in the +Barren Country north of Lac Bain. Pierrot knew him well. They had +exchanged fox poison. They were friends, and there was pleasure in the +grip of their hands. DeBar stared then at Nepeese. + +"Tonnerre, she has grown into a woman!" he cried, and like a woman +Nepeese looked at him straight, with the color deepening in her cheeks, +as he bowed low with a courtesy that dated back a couple of centuries +beyond the trap line. + +DeBar lost no time in explaining his mission, and before they reached +the cabin Pierrot and Nepeese knew why he had come. M'sieu, the factor +at Lac Bain, was leaving on a journey in five days, and he had sent +DeBar as a special messenger to request Pierrot to come up to assist +the clerk and the half-breed storekeeper in his absence. Pierrot made +no comment at first. But he was thinking. Why had Bush McTaggart sent +for HIM? Why had he not chosen some one nearer? Not until a fire was +crackling in the sheet-iron stove in the cabin, and Nepeese was busily +engaged getting supper, did he voice these questions to the fox hunter. + +DeBar shrugged his shoulders. + +"He asked me, at first, if I could stay. But I have a wife with a bad +lung, Pierrot. It was caught by frost last winter, and I dare not leave +her long alone. He has great faith in you. Besides, you know all the +trappers on the company's books at Lac Bain. So he sent for you, and +begs you not to worry about your fur lines, as he will pay you double +what you would catch in the time you are at the Post." + +"And--Nepeese?" said Pierrot. "M'sieu expects me to bring her?" + +From the stove the Willow bent her head to listen, and her heart leaped +free again at DeBar's answer. + +"He said nothing about that. But surely--it will be a great change for +li'le m'selle." + +Pierrot nodded. + +"Possibly, Netootam." + +They discussed the matter no more that night. But for hours Pierrot was +still, thinking, and a hundred times he asked himself that same +question: Why had McTaggart sent for him? He was not the only man well +known to the trappers on the company's books. There was Wassoon, for +instance, the half-breed Scandinavian whose cabin was less than four +hours' journey from the Post--or Baroche, the white-bearded old +Frenchman who lived yet nearer and whose word was as good as the Bible. +It must be, he told himself finally, that M'sieu had sent for HIM +because he wanted to win over the father of Nepeese and gain the +friendship of Nepeese herself. For this was undoubtedly a very great +honor that the factor was conferring on him. + +And yet, deep down in his heart, he was filled with suspicion. When +DeBar was about to leave the next morning, Pierrot said: + +"Tell m'sieu that I will leave for Lac Bain the day after tomorrow." + +After DeBar had gone, he said to Nepeese: + +"And you shall remain here, ma cherie. I will not take you to Lac Bain. +I have had a dream that m'sieu will not go on a journey, but that he +has lied, and that he will be SICK when I arrive at the Post. And yet, +if it should happen that you care to go--" + +Nepeese straightened suddenly, like a reed that has been caught by the +wind. + +"Non!" she cried, so fiercely that Pierrot laughed, and rubbed his +hands. + +So it happened that on the second day after the fox hunter's visit +Pierrot left for Lac Bain, with Nepeese in the door waving him good-bye +until he was out of sight. + + +On the morning of this same day Bush McTaggart rose from his bed while +it was still dark. The time had come. He had hesitated at murder--at +the killing of Pierrot; and in his hesitation he had found a better +way. There could be no escape for Nepeese. + +It was a wonderful scheme, so easy of accomplishment, so inevitable in +its outcome. And all the time Pierrot would think he was away to the +east on a mission! + +He ate his breakfast before dawn, and was on the trail before it was +yet light. Purposely he struck due east, so that in coming up from the +south and west Pierrot would not strike his sledge tracks. For he had +made up his mind now that Pierrot must never know and must never have a +suspicion, even though it cost him so many more miles to travel that he +would not reach the Gray Loon until the second day. It was better to be +a day late, after all, as it was possible that something might have +delayed Pierrot. So he made no effort to travel fast. + +McTaggart took a vast amount of brutal satisfaction in anticipating +what was about to happen, and he reveled in it to the full. There was +no chance for disappointment. He was positive that Nepeese would not +accompany her father to Lac Bain. She would be at the cabin on the Gray +Loon--alone. + +This aloneness to Nepeese was burdened with no thought of danger. There +were times, now, when the thought of being alone was pleasant to her, +when she wanted to dream by herself, when she visioned things into the +mysteries of which she would not admit even Pierrot. She was growing +into womanhood--just the sweet, closed bud of womanhood as yet--still a +girl with the soft velvet of girlhood in her eyes, yet with the mystery +of woman stirring gently in her soul, as if the Great Hand were +hesitating between awakening her and letting her sleep a little longer. +At these times, when the opportunity came to steal hours by herself, +she would put on the red dress and do up her wonderful hair as she saw +it in the pictures of the magazines Pierrot had sent up twice a year +from Nelson House. + +On the second day of Pierrot's absence Nepeese dressed herself like +this, but today she let her hair cascade in a shining glory about her, +and about her forehead bound a circlet of red ribbon. She was not yet +done. Today she had marvelous designs. On the wall close to her mirror +she had tacked a large page from a woman's magazine, and on this page +was a lovely vision of curls. Fifteen hundred miles north of the sunny +California studio in which the picture had been taken, Nepeese, with +pouted red lips and puckered forehead, was struggling to master the +mystery of the other girl's curls! + +She was looking into her mirror, her face flushed and her eyes aglow in +the excitement of the struggle to fashion one of the coveted ringlets +from a tress that fell away below her hips, when the door opened behind +her, and Bush McTaggart walked in. + + + +CHAPTER 20 + +The Willow's back was toward the door when the factor from Lac Bain +entered the cabin, and for a few startled seconds she did not turn. Her +first thought was of Pierrot--for some reason he had returned. But even +as this thought came to her, she heard in Baree's throat a snarl that +brought her suddenly to her feet, facing the door. + +McTaggart had not entered unprepared. He had left his pack, his gun, +and his heavy coat outside. He was standing with his back against the +door; and at Nepeese--in her wonderful dress and flowing hair--he was +staring as if stunned for a space at what he saw. Fate, or accident, +was playing against the Willow now. If there had been a spark of +slumbering chivalry, of mercy, even, in Bush McTaggart's soul, it was +extinguished by what he saw. Never had Nepeese looked more beautiful, +not even on that day when MacDonald the map maker had taken her +picture. The sun, flooding through the window, lighted up her marvelous +hair. Her flushed face was framed in its lustrous darkness like a +tinted cameo. He had dreamed, but he had pictured nothing like this +woman who stood before him now, her eyes widening with fear and the +flush leaving her face even as he looked at her. + +It was not a long interval in which their eyes met in that terrible +silence. Words were unnecessary. At last she understood--understood +what her peril had been that day at the edge of the chasm and in the +forest, when fearlessly she had played with the menace that was +confronting her now. + +A breath that was like a sob broke from her lips. + +"M'sieu!" she tried to say. But it was only a gasp--an effort. + +Plainly she heard the click of the iron bolt as it locked the door. +McTaggart advanced a step. + +Only a single step McTaggart advanced. On the floor Baree had remained +like something carved out of stone. He had not moved. He had not made a +sound but that one warning snarl--until McTaggart took the step. And +then, like a flash, he was up and in front of Nepeese, every hair of +his body on end; and at the fury in his growl McTaggart lunged back +against the barred door. A word from Nepeese in that moment, and it +would have been over. But an instant was lost--an instant before her +cry came. In that moment man's hand and brain worked swifter than brute +understanding; and as Baree launched himself at the factor's throat, +there came a flash and a deafening explosion almost in the Willow's +eyes. + +It was a chance shot, a shot from the hip with McTaggart's automatic. +Baree fell short. He struck the floor with a thud and rolled against +the log wall. There was not a kick or a quiver left in his body. +McTaggart laughed nervously as he shoved his pistol back in its +holster. He knew that only a brain shot could have done that. + +With her back against the farther wall, Nepeese was waiting. McTaggart +could hear her panting breath. He advanced halfway to her. + +"Nepeese, I have come to make you my wife," he said. + +She did not answer. He could see that her breath was choking her. She +raised a hand to her throat. He took two more steps, and stopped. He +had never seen such eyes. + +"I have come to make you my wife, Nepeese. Tomorrow you will go on to +Nelson House with me, and then back to Lac Bain--forever." He added the +last word as an afterthought. "Forever," he repeated. + +He did not mince words. His courage and his determination rose as he +saw her body droop a little against the wall. She was powerless. There +was no escape. Pierrot was gone. Baree was dead. + +He had thought that no living creature could move as swiftly as the +Willow when his arms reached out for her. She made no sound as she +darted under one of his outstretched arms. He made a lunge, a savage +grab, and his fingers caught a bit of hair. He heard the snap of it as +she tore herself free and flew to the door. She had thrown back the +bolt when he caught her and his arms closed about her. He dragged her +back, and now she cried out--cried out in her despair for Pierrot, for +Baree, for some miracle of God that might save her. + +And Nepeese fought. She twisted in his arms until she was facing him. +She could no longer see. She was smothered in her own hair. It covered +her face and breast and body, suffocating her, entangling her hands and +arms--and still she fought. In the struggle McTaggart stumbled over the +body of Baree, and they went down. Nepeese was up fully five seconds +ahead of the man. She could have reached the door. But again it was her +hair. She paused to fling back the thick masses of it so that she could +see, and McTaggart was at the door ahead of her. + +He did not lock it again, but stood facing her. His face was scratched +and bleeding. He was no longer a man but a devil. Nepeese was broken, +panting--a low sobbing came with every breath. She bent down, and +picked up a piece of firewood. McTaggart could see that her strength +was almost gone. + +She clutched the stick as he approached her again. But McTaggart had +lost all thought of fear or caution. He sprang upon her like an animal. +The stick of firewood fell. And again fate played against the girl. In +her terror and hopelessness she had caught up the first stick her hand +had touched--a light one. With her last strength she hurled it at +McTaggart, and as it struck his head, he staggered back. But it did not +make him loose his hold. + +Vainly she was fighting now, not to strike him or to escape, but to get +her breath. She tried to cry out again, but this time no sound came +from between her gasping lips. + +Again he laughed, and as he laughed, he heard the door open. Was it the +wind? He turned, still holding her in his arms. + +In the open door stood Pierrot. + + + +CHAPTER 21 + +During that terrible interval which followed an eternity of time passed +slowly through the little cabin on the Gray Loon--that eternity which +lies somewhere between life and death and which is sometimes meted out +to a human life in seconds instead of years. + +In those seconds Pierrot did not move from where he stood in the +doorway. McTaggart, encumbered with the weight in his arms, and staring +at Pierrot, did not move. But the Willow's eyes were opening. And at +the same moment a convulsive quiver ran through the body of Baree, +where he lay near the wall. There was not the sound of a breath. And +then, in that silence, a great gasping sob came from Nepeese. + +Then Pierrot stirred to life. Like McTaggart, he had left his coat and +mittens outside. He spoke, and his voice was not like Pierrot's. It was +a strange voice. + +"The great God has sent me back in time, m'sieu," he said. "I, too, +traveled by way of the east, and saw your trail where it turned this +way." + +No, that was not like Pierrot's voice! A chill ran through McTaggart +now, and slowly he let go of Nepeese. She fell to the floor. Slowly he +straightened. + +"Is it not true, m'sieu?" said Pierrot again. "I have come in time?" + +What power was it--what great fear, perhaps, that made McTaggart nod +his head, that made his thick lips form huskily the words, "Yes--in +time." And yet it was not fear. It was something greater, something +more all-powerful than that. And Pierrot said, in that same strange +voice: + +"I thank the great God!" + +The eyes of madman met the eyes of madman now. Between them was death. +Both saw it. Both thought that they saw the direction in which its bony +finger pointed. Both were certain. McTaggart's hand did not go to the +pistol in his holster, and Pierrot did not touch the knife in his belt. +When they came together, it was throat to throat--two beasts now, +instead of one, for Pierrot had in him the fury and strength of the +wolf, the cat, and the panther. + +McTaggart was the bigger and heavier man, a giant in strength; yet in +the face of Pierrot's fury he lurched back over the table and went down +with a crash. Many times in his life he had fought, but he had never +felt a grip at his throat like the grip of Pierrot's hands. They almost +crushed the life from him at once. His neck snapped--a little more, and +it would have broken. He struck out blindly, and twisted himself to +throw off the weight of the half-breed's body. But Pierrot was fastened +there, as Sekoosew the ermine had fastened itself at the jugular of the +partridge, and Bush McTaggart's jaws slowly swung open, and his face +began to turn from red to purple. + +Cold air rushing through the door, Pierrot's voice and the sound of +battle roused Nepeese quickly to consciousness and the power to raise +herself from the floor. She had fallen near Baree, and as she lifted +her head, her eyes rested for a moment on the dog before they went to +the fighting men. Baree was alive! His body was twitching; his eyes +were open. He made an effort to raise his head as she was looking at +him. + +Then she dragged herself to her knees and turned to the men, and +Pierrot, even in the blood-red fury of his desire to kill, must have +heard the sharp cry of joy that came from her when she saw that it was +the factor from Lac Bain who was underneath. With a tremendous effort +she staggered to her feet, and for a few moments she stood swaying +unsteadily as her brain and her body readjusted themselves. Even as she +looked down upon the blackening face from which Pierrot's fingers were +choking the life, Bush McTaggart's hand was groping blindly for his +pistol. He found it. Unseen by Pierrot, he dragged it from its holster. +It was one of the black devils of chance that favored him again, for in +his excitement he had not snapped the safety shut after shooting Baree. +Now he had only strength left to pull the trigger. Twice his forefinger +closed. Twice there came deadened explosion close to Pierrot's body. + +In Pierrot's face Nepeese saw what had happened. Her heart died in her +breast as she looked upon the swift and terrible change wrought by +sudden death. Slowly Pierrot straightened. His eyes were wide for a +moment--wide and staring. He made no sound. She could not see his lips +move. And then he fell toward her, so that McTaggart's body was free. +Blindly and with an agony that gave no evidence in cry or word she +flung herself down beside her father. He was dead. + +How long Nepeese lay there, how long she waited for Pierrot to move, to +open his eyes, to breathe, she would never know. In that time McTaggart +rose to his feet and stood leaning against the wall, the pistol in his +hand, his brain clearing itself as he saw his final triumph. His work +did not frighten him. Even in that tragic moment as he stood against +the wall, his defense--if it ever came to a defense--framed itself in +his mind. Pierrot had murderously assaulted him--without cause. In +self-defense he had killed him. Was he not the Factor of Lac Bain? +Would not the company and the law believe his word before that of this +girl? His brain leaped with the old exultation. It would never come to +that--to a betrayal of this struggle and death in the cabin--after he +had finished with her! She would not be known for all time as La Bete +Noir. No, they would bury Pierrot, and she would return to Lac Bain +with him. If she had been helpless before, she was ten times more +helpless now. She would never tell of what had happened in the cabin. + +He forgot the presence of death as he looked at her, bowed over her +father so that her hair covered him like a silken-shroud. He replaced +the pistol in its holster and drew a deep breath into his lungs. He was +still a little unsteady on his feet, but his face was again the face of +a devil. He took a step, and it was then there came a sound to rouse +the girl. In the shadow of the farther wall Baree had struggled to his +haunches, and now he growled. + +Slowly Nepeese lifted her head. A power which she could not resist drew +her eyes up until she was looking into the face of Bush McTaggart. She +had almost lost consciousness of his presence. Her senses were cold and +deadened--it was as if her own heart had stopped beating along with +Pierrot's. What she saw in the factor's face dragged her out of the +numbness of her grief back into the shadow of her own peril. He was +standing over her. In his face there was no pity, nothing of horror at +what he had done--only an insane exultation as he looked--not at +Pierrot's dead body, but at her. He put out a hand, and it rested on +her head. She felt his thick fingers crumpling her hair, and his eyes +blazed like embers of fire behind watery films. She struggled to rise, +but with his hands at her hair he held her down. + +"Great God!" she breathed. + +She uttered no other words, no plea for mercy, no other sound but a +dry, hopeless sob. In that moment neither of them heard or saw Baree. +Twice in crossing the cabin his hindquarters had sagged to the floor. +Now he was close to McTaggart. He wanted to give a single lunge to the +man-brute's back and snap his thick neck as he would have broken a +caribou bone. But he had no strength. He was still partially paralyzed +from his foreshoulder back. But his jaws were like iron, and they +closed savagely on McTaggart's leg. + +With a yell of pain the factor released his hold on the Willow, and she +staggered to her feet. For a precious half-minute she was free, and as +the factor kicked and struck to loose Baree's hold, she ran to the +cabin door and out into the day. The cold air struck her face. It +filled her lungs with new strength; and without thought of where hope +might lie she ran through the snow into the forest. + +McTaggart appeared at the door just in time to see her disappear. His +leg was torn where Baree had fastened his fangs, but he felt no pain as +he ran in pursuit of the girl. She could not go far. An exultant cry, +inhuman as the cry of a beast, came in a great breath from his gaping +mouth as he saw that she was staggering weakly as she fled. He was +halfway to the edge of the forest when Baree dragged himself over the +threshold. His jaws were bleeding where McTaggart had kicked him again +and again before his fangs gave way. Halfway between his ears was a +seared spot, as if a red-hot poker had been laid there for an instant. +This was where McTaggart's bullet had gone. A quarter of an inch +deeper, and it would have meant death. As it was, it had been like the +blow of a heavy club, paralyzing his senses and sending him limp and +unconscious against the wall. He could move on his feet now without +falling, and slowly he followed in the tracks of the man and the girl. + +As she ran, Nepeese's mind became all at once clear and reasoning. She +turned into the narrow trail over which McTaggart had followed her once +before, but just before reaching the chasm, she swung sharply to the +right. She could see McTaggart. He was not running fast, but was +gaining steadily, as if enjoying the sight of her helplessness, as he +had enjoyed it in another way on that other day. Two hundred yards +below the deep pool into which she had pushed the factor--just beyond +the shallows out of which he had dragged himself to safety--was the +beginning of Blue Feather's Gorge. An appalling thing was shaping +itself in her mind as she ran to it--a thing that with each gasping +breath she drew became more and more a great and glorious hope. At last +she reached it and looked down. And as she looked, there whispered up +out of her soul and trembled on her lips the swan song of her mother's +people. + +Our fathers--come! +Come from out of the valley. +Guide us--for today we die, +And the winds whisper of death! + +She had raised her arms. Against the white wilderness beyond the chasm +she stood tall and slim. Fifty yards behind her the factor from Lac +Bain stopped suddenly in his tracks. "Ah," he mumbled. "Is she not +wonderful!" And behind McTaggart, coming faster and faster, was Baree. + +Again the Willow looked down. She was at the edge, for she had no fear +in this hour. Many times she had clung to Pierrot's hand as she looked +over. Down there no one could fall and live. Fifty feet below her the +water which never froze was smashing itself into froth among the rocks. +It was deep and black and terrible, for between the narrow rock walls +the sun did not reach it. The roar of it filled the Willow's ears. + +She turned and faced McTaggart. + +Even then he did not guess, but came toward her again, his arms +stretched out ahead of him. Fifty yards! It was not much, and +shortening swiftly. + +Once more the Willow's lips moved. After all, it is the mother soul +that gives us faith to meet eternity--and it was to the spirit of her +mother that the Willow called in the hour of death. With the call on +her lips she plunged into the abyss, her wind-whipped hair clinging to +her in a glistening shroud. + + + +CHAPTER 22 + +A moment later the factor from Lac Bain stood at the edge of the chasm. +His voice had called out in a hoarse bellow--a wild cry of disbelief +and horror that had formed the Willow's name as she disappeared. He +looked down, clutching his huge red hands and staring in ghastly +suspense at the boiling water and black rocks far below. There was +nothing there now--no sign of her, no last flash of her pale face and +streaming hair in the white foam. And she had done THAT--to save +herself from him! + +The soul of the man-beast turned sick within him, so sick that he +staggered back, his vision blinded and his legs tottering under him. He +had killed Pierrot, and it had been a triumph. All his life he had +played the part of the brute with a stoicism and cruelty that had known +no shock--nothing like this that overwhelmed him now, numbing him to +the marrow of his bones until he stood like one paralyzed. He did not +see Baree. He did not hear the dog's whining cries at the edge of the +chasm. For a few moments the world turned black for him. And then, +dragging himself out of his stupor, he ran frantically along the edge +of the gorge, looking down wherever his eyes could see the water, +striving for a glimpse of her. At last it grew too deep. There was no +hope. She was gone--and she had faced that to escape him! + +He mumbled that fact over and over again, stupidly, thickly, as though +his brain could grasp nothing beyond it. She was dead. And Pierrot was +dead. And he, in a few minutes, had accomplished it all. + +He turned back toward the cabin--not by the trail over which he had +pursued Nepeese, but straight through the thick bush. Great flakes of +snow had begun to fall. He looked at the sky, where banks of dark +clouds were rolling up from the south and east. The sun disappeared. +Soon there would be a storm--a heavy snowstorm. The big flakes falling +on his naked hands and face set his mind to work. It was lucky for him, +this storm. It would cover everything--the fresh trails, even the grave +he would dig for Pierrot. + +It does not take such a man as the factor long to recover from a moral +concussion. By the time he came in sight of the cabin his mind was +again at work on physical things--on the necessities of the situation. +The appalling thing, after all, was not that both Pierrot and Nepeese +were dead, but that his dream was shattered. It was not that Nepeese +was dead, but that he had lost her. This was his vital disappointment. +The other thing--his crime--it was easy to destroy all traces of that. + +It was not sentiment that made him dig Pierrot's grave close to the +princess mother's under the tall spruce. It was not sentiment that made +him dig the grave at all, but caution. He buried Pierrot decently. Then +he poured Pierrot's stock of kerosene where it would be most effective +and touched a match to it. He stood in the edge of the forest until the +cabin was a mass of flames. The snow was falling thickly. The freshly +made grave was a white mound, and the trails were filling up with new +snow. For the physical things he had done there was no fear in Bush +McTaggart's heart as he turned back toward Lac Bain. No one would ever +look into the grave of Pierrot Du Quesne. And there was no one to +betray him if such a miracle happened. But of one thing his black soul +would never be able to free itself. Always he would see the pale, +triumphant face of the Willow as she stood facing him in that moment of +her glory when, even as she was choosing death rather than him, he had +cried to himself: "Ah! Is she not wonderful!" + +As Bush McTaggart had forgotten Baree, so Baree had forgotten the +factor from Lac Bain. When McTaggart had run along the edge of the +chasm, Baree had squatted himself in the trodden plot of snow where +Nepeese had last stood, his body stiffened and his forefeet braced as +he looked down. He had seen her take the leap. Many times that summer +he had followed her in her daring dives into the deep, quiet water of +the pool. But this was a tremendous distance. She had never dived into +a place like that before. He could see the black shapes of the rocks, +appearing and disappearing in the whirling foam like the heads of +monsters at play. The roar of the water filled him with dread. His eyes +caught the swift rush of crumbled ice between the rock walls. And she +had gone down there! + +He had a great desire to follow her, to jump in, as he had always +jumped in after her in previous times. She was surely down there, even +though he could not see her. Probably she was playing among the rocks +and hiding herself in the white froth and wondering why he didn't come. +But he hesitated--hesitated with his head and neck over the abyss, and +his forefeet giving way a little in the snow. With an effort he dragged +himself back and whined. He caught the fresh scent of McTaggart's +moccasins in the snow, and the whine changed slowly into a long snarl. +He looked over again. Still he could not see her. He barked--the short, +sharp signal with which he always called her. There was no answer. +Again and again he barked, and always there was nothing but the roar of +the water that came back to him. Then for a few moments he stood back, +silent and listening, his body shivering with the strange dread that +was possessing him. + +The snow was falling now, and McTaggart had returned to the cabin. +After a little Baree followed in the trail he had made along the edge +of the chasm, and wherever McTaggart had stopped to peer over, Baree +paused also. For a space his hatred of the man was lost in his desire +to join the Willow, and he continued along the gorge until, a quarter +of a mile beyond where the factor had last looked into it, he came to +the narrow trail down which he and Nepeese had many time adventured in +quest of rock violets. The twisting path that led down the face of the +cliff was filled with snow now, but Baree made his way through it until +at last he stood at the edge of the unfrozen torrent. Nepeese was not +here. He whined, and barked again, but this time there was in his +signal to her an uneasy repression, a whimpering note which told that +he did not expect a reply. For five minutes after that he sat on his +haunches in the snow, stolid as a rock. What it was that came down out +of the dark mystery and tumult of the chasm to him, what spirit +whispers of nature that told him the truth, it is beyond the power of +reason to explain. But he listened, and he looked; and his muscles +twitched as the truth grew in him. And at last he raised his head +slowly until his black muzzle pointed to the white storm in the sky, +and out of his throat there went forth the quavering, long-drawn howl +of the husky who mourns outside the tepee of a master who is newly dead. + +On the trail, heading for Lac Bain, Bush McTaggart heard that cry and +shivered. + +It was the smell of smoke, thickening in the air until it stung his +nostrils, that drew Baree at last away from the chasm and back to the +cabin. There was not much left when he came to the clearing. Where the +cabin had been was a red-hot, smoldering mass. For a long time he sat +watching it, still waiting and still listening. He no longer felt the +effect of the bullet that had stunned him, but his senses were +undergoing another change now, as strange and unreal as their struggle +against that darkness of near death in the cabin. In a space that had +not covered more than an hour the world had twisted itself grotesquely +for Baree. That long ago the Willow was sitting before her little +mirror in the cabin, talking to him and laughing in her happiness, +while he lay in vast contentment on the floor. And now there was no +cabin, no Nepeese, no Pierrot. Quietly he struggled to comprehend. It +was some time before he moved from under the thick balsams, for already +a deep and growing suspicion began to guide his movements. He did not +go nearer to the smoldering mass of the cabin, but slinking low, made +his way about the circle of the clearing to the dog corral. This took +him under the tall spruce. For a full minute he paused here, sniffing +at the freshly made mound under its white mantle of snow. When he went +on, he slunk still lower, and his ears were flat against his head. + +The dog corral was open and empty. McTaggart had seen to that. Again +Baree squatted back on his haunches and sent forth the death howl. This +time it was for Pierrot. In it there was a different note from that of +the howl he had sent forth from the chasm: it was positive, certain. In +the chasm his cry had been tempered with doubt--a questioning hope, +something that was so almost human that McTaggart had shivered on the +trail. But Baree knew what lay in that freshly dug snow-covered grave. +A scant three feet of earth could not hide its secret from him. There +was death--definite and unequivocal. But for Nepeese he was still +hoping and seeking. + +Until noon he did not go far from the site of the cabin, but only once +did he actually approach and sniff about the black pile of steaming +timbers. Again and again he circled the edge of the clearing, keeping +just within the bush and timber, sniffing the air and listening. Twice +he went hack to the chasm. Late in the afternoon there came to him a +sudden impulse that carried him swiftly through the forest. He did not +run openly now. Caution, suspicion, and fear had roused in him afresh +the instincts of the wolf. With his ears flattened against the side of +his head, his tail drooping until the tip of it dragged the snow and +his back sagging in the curious, evasive gait of the wolf, he scarcely +made himself distinguishable from the shadows of the spruce and balsams. + +There was no faltering in the trail Baree made; it was straight as a +rope might have been drawn through the forest, and it brought him, +early in the dusk, to the open spot where Nepeese had fled with him +that day she had pushed McTaggart over the edge of the precipice into +the pool. In the place of the balsam shelter of that day there was now +a watertight birchbark tepee which Pierrot had helped the Willow to +make during the summer. Baree went straight to it and thrust in his +head with a low and expectant whine. + +There was no answer. It was dark and cold in the tepee. He could make +out indistinctly the two blankets that were always in it, the row of +big tin boxes in which Nepeese kept their stores, and the stove which +Pierrot had improvised out of scraps of iron and heavy tin. But Nepeese +was not there. And there was no sign of her outside. The snow was +unbroken except by his own trail. It was dark when he returned to the +burned cabin. All that night he hung about the deserted dog corral, and +all through the night the snow fell steadily, so that by dawn he sank +into it to his shoulders when he moved out into the clearing. + +But with day the sky had cleared. The sun came up, and the world was +almost too dazzling for the eyes. It warmed Baree's blood with new hope +and expectation. His brain struggled even more eagerly than yesterday +to comprehend. Surely the Willow would be returning soon! He would hear +her voice. She would appear suddenly out of the forest. He would +receive some signal from her. One of these things, or all of them, must +happen. He stopped sharply in his tracks at every sound, and sniffed +the air from every point of the wind. He was traveling ceaselessly. His +body made deep trails in the snow around and over the huge white mound +where the cabin had stood. His tracks led from the corral to the tall +spruce, and they were as numerous as the footprints of a wolf pack for +half a mile up and down the chasm. + +On the afternoon of this day the second strong impulse came to him. It +was not reason, and neither was it instinct alone. It was the struggle +halfway between, the brute mind righting at its best with the mystery +of an intangible thing--something that could not be seen by the eye or +heard by the ear. Nepeese was not in the cabin, because there was no +cabin. She was not at the tepee. He could find no trace of her in the +chasm. She was not with Pierrot under the big spruce. + +Therefore, unreasoning but sure, he began to follow the old trap line +into the north and west. + + + +CHAPTER 23 + +No man has ever looked clearly into the mystery of death as it is +impressed upon the senses of the northern dog. It comes to him, +sometimes, with the wind. Most frequently it must come with the wind, +and yet there are ten thousand masters in the northland who will swear +that their dogs have given warning of death hours before it actually +came; and there are many of these thousands who know from experience +that their teams will stop a quarter or half a mile from a strange +cabin in which there lies unburied dead. + +Yesterday Baree had smelled death, and he knew without process of +reasoning that the dead was Pierrot. How he knew this, and why he +accepted the fact as inevitable, is one of the mysteries which at times +seems to give the direct challenge to those who concede nothing more +than instinct to the brute mind. He knew that Pierrot was dead without +exactly knowing what death was. But of one thing he was sure: he would +never see Pierrot again. He would never hear his voice again; he would +never hear again the swish-swish-swish of his snowshoes in the trail +ahead, and so on the trap line he did not look for Pierrot. Pierrot was +gone forever. But Baree had not yet associated death with Nepeese. He +was filled with a great uneasiness. What came to him from out of the +chasm had made him tremble with fear and suspense. He sensed the thrill +of something strange, of something impending, and yet even as he had +given the death howl in the chasm, it must have been for Pierrot. For +he believed that Nepeese was alive, and he was now just as sure that he +would overtake her on the trap line as he was positive yesterday that +he would find her at the birchbark tepee. + +Since yesterday morning's breakfast with the Willow, Baree had gone +without eating. To appease his hunger meant to hunt, and his mind was +too filled with his quest of Nepeese for that. He would have gone +hungry all that day, but in the third mile from the cabin he came to a +trap in which there was a big snowshoe rabbit. The rabbit was still +alive, and he killed it and ate his fill. Until dark he did not miss a +trap. In one of them there was a lynx; in another a fishercat. Out on +the white surface of a lake he sniffed at a snowy mound under which lay +the body of a red fox killed by one of Pierrot's poison baits. Both the +lynx and the fishercat were alive, and the steel chains of their traps +clanked sharply as they prepared to give Baree battle. But Baree was +uninterested. He hurried on, his uneasiness growing as the day darkened +and he found no sign of the Willow. + +It was a wonderfully clear night after the storm--cold and brilliant, +with the shadows standing out as clearly as living things. The third +suggestion came to Baree now. He was, like all animals, largely of one +idea at a time--a creature with whom all lesser impulses were governed +by a single leading impulse. And this impulse, in the glow of the +starlit night, was to reach as quickly as possible the first of +Pierrot's two cabins on the trap line. There he would find Nepeese! + +We won't call the process by which Baree came to this conclusion a +process of reasoning. Instinct or reasoning, whatever it was, a fixed +and positive faith came to Baree just the same. He began to miss the +traps in his haste to cover distance--to reach the cabin. It was +twenty-five miles from Pierrot's burned home to the first trap cabin, +and Baree had made ten of these by nightfall. The remaining fifteen +were the most difficult. In the open spaces the snow was belly-deep and +soft. Frequently he plunged through drifts in which for a few moments +he was buried. Three times during the early part of the night Baree +heard the savage dirge of the wolves. Once it was a wild paean of +triumph as the hunters pulled down their kill less than half a mile +away in the deep forest. But the voice no longer called to him. It was +repellent--a voice of hatred and of treachery. Each time that he heard +it he stopped in his tracks and snarled, while his spine stiffened. + +At midnight Baree came to the tiny amphitheater in the forest where +Pierrot had cut the logs for the first of his trapline cabins. For at +least a minute Baree stood at the edge of the clearing, his ears very +alert, his eyes bright with hope and expectation, while he sniffed the +air. There was no smoke, no sound, no light in the one window of the +log shack. His disappointment fell on him even as he stood there. Again +he sensed the fact of his aloneness, of the barrenness of his quest. +There was a disheartened slouch to his door. He had traveled +twenty-five miles, and he was tired. + +The snow was drifted deep at the doorway, and here Baree sat down and +whined. It was no longer the anxious, questing whine of a few hours +ago. Now it voiced hopelessness and a deep despair. For half an hour he +sat shivering with his back to the door and his face to the starlit +wilderness, as if there still remained the fleeting hope that Nepeese +might follow after him over the trail. Then he burrowed himself a hole +deep in the snowdrift and passed the remainder of the night in uneasy +slumber. + +With the first light of day Baree resumed the trail. He was not so +alert this morning. There was the disconsolate droop to his tail which +the Indians call the Akoosewin--the sign of the sick dog. And Baree was +sick--not of body but of soul. The keenness of his hope had died, and +he no longer expected to find the Willow. The second cabin at the far +end of the trap line drew him on, but it inspired in him none of the +enthusiasm with which he had hurried to the first. He traveled slowly +and spasmodically, his suspicions of the forests again replacing the +excitement of his quest. He approached each of Pierrot's traps and the +deadfalls cautiously, and twice he showed his fangs--once at a marten +that snapped at him from under a root where it had dragged the trap in +which it was caught, and the second time at a big snowy owl that had +come to steal bait and was now a prisoner at the end of a steel chain. +It may be that Baree thought it was Oohoomisew and that he still +remembered vividly the treacherous assault and fierce battle of that +night when, as a puppy, he was dragging his sore and wounded body +through the mystery and fear of the big timber. For he did more than to +show his fangs. He tore the owl into pieces. + +There were plenty of rabbits in Pierrot's traps, and Baree did not go +hungry. He reached the second trap-line cabin late in the afternoon, +after ten hours of traveling. He met with no very great disappointment +here, for he had not anticipated very much. The snow had banked this +cabin even higher than the other. It lay three feet deep against the +door, and the window was white with a thick coating of frost. At this +place, which was close to the edge of a big barren, and unsheltered by +the thick forests farther back, Pierrot had built a shelter for his +firewood, and in this shelter Baree made his temporary home. All the +next day he remained somewhere near the end of the trap line, skirting +the edge of the barren and investigating the short side line of a dozen +traps which Pierrot and Nepeese had strung through a swamp in which +there had been many signs of lynx. It was the third day before he set +out on his return to the Gray Loon. + +He did not travel very fast, spending two days in covering the +twenty-five miles between the first and the second trap-line cabins. At +the second cabin he remained for three days, and it was on the ninth +day that he reached the Gray Loon. There was no change. There were no +tracks in the snow but his own, made nine days ago. + +Baree's quest for Nepeese became now more or less involuntary, a sort +of daily routine. For a week he made his burrow in the dog corral, and +at least twice between dawn and darkness he would go to the birchbark +tepee and the chasm. His trail, soon beaten hard in the snow, became as +fixed as Pierrot's trap line. It cut straight through the forest to the +tepee, swinging slightly to the east so that it crossed the frozen +surface of the Willow's swimming pool. From the tepee it swung in a +circle through a part of the forest where Nepeese had frequently +gathered armfuls of crimson fireflowers, and then to the chasm. Up and +down the edge of the gorge it went, down into the little cup at the +bottom of the chasm, and thence straight back to the dog corral. + +And then, of a sudden, Baree made a change. He spent a night in the +tepee. After that, whenever he was at the Gray Loon, during the day he +always slept in the tepee. The two blankets were his bed--and they were +a part of Nepeese. And there, all through the long winter, he waited. + +If Nepeese had returned in February and could have taken him unaware, +she would have found a changed Baree. He was more than ever like a +wolf; yet he never gave the wolf howl now, and always he snarled deep +in his throat when he heard the cry of the pack. For several weeks the +old trap line had supplied him with meat, but now he hunted. The tepee, +in and out, was scattered with fur and bones. Once--alone--he caught a +young deer in deep snow and killed it. Again, in the heart of a fierce +February storm, he pursued a bull caribou so closely that it plunged +over a cliff and broke its neck. He lived well, and in size and +strength he was growing swiftly into a giant of his kind. In another +six months he would be as large as Kazan, and his jaws were almost as +powerful, even now. + +Three times that winter Baree fought--once with a lynx that sprang down +upon him from a windfall while he was eating a freshly killed rabbit, +and twice with two lone wolves. The lynx tore him unmercifully before +it fled into the windfall. The younger of the wolves he killed; the +other fight was a draw. More and more he became an outcast, living +alone with his dreams and his smoldering hopes. + +And Baree did dream. Many times, as he lay in the tepee, he would hear +the voice of Nepeese. He would hear her sweet voice calling, her +laughter, the sound of his name. and often he would start up to his +feet--the old Baree for a thrilling moment or two--only to lie down in +his nest again with a low, grief-filled whine. And always when he heard +the snap of a twig or some other sound in the forest, it was thought of +Nepeese that flashed first into his brain. Some day she would return. +That belief was a part of his existence as much as the sun and the moon +and the stars. + +The winter passed, and spring came, and still Baree continued to haunt +his old trails, even going now and then over the old trap line as far +as the first of the two cabins. The traps were rusted and sprung now; +the thawing snow disclosed bones and feathers between their jaws. Under +the deadfalls were remnants of fur, and out on the ice of the lakes +were picked skeletons of foxes and wolves that had taken the poison +baits. The last snow went. The swollen streams sang in the forests and +canyons. The grass turned green, and the first flowers came. + +Surely this was the time for Nepeese to come home! He watched for her +expectantly. He went still more frequently to their swimming pool in +the forest, and he hung closely to the burned cabin and the dog corral. +Twice he sprang into the pool and whined as he swam about, as though +she surely must join him in their old water frolic. And now, as the +spring passed and summer came, there settled upon him slowly the gloom +and misery of utter hopelessness. The flowers were all out now, and +even the bakneesh vines glowed like red fire in the woods. Patches of +green were beginning to hide the charred heap where the cabin had +stood, and the blue-flower vines that covered the princess mother's +grave were reaching out toward Pierrot's, as if the princess mother +herself were the spirit of them. + +All these things were happening, and the birds had mated and nested, +and still Nepeese did not come! And at last something broke inside of +Baree, his last hope, perhaps, his last dream; and one day he bade +good-bye to the Gray Loon. + +No one can say what it cost him to go. No one can say how he fought +against the things that were holding him to the tepee, the old swimming +pool, the familiar paths in the forest, and the two graves that were +not so lonely now under the tall spruce. He went. He had no +reason--simply went. It may be that there is a Master whose hand guides +the beast as well as the man, and that we know just enough of this +guidance to call it instinct. For, in dragging himself away, Baree +faced the Great Adventure. + +It was there, in the north, waiting for him--and into the north he went. + + + +CHAPTER 24 + +It was early in August when Baree left the Gray Loon. He had no +objective in view. But there was still left upon his mind, like the +delicate impression of light and shadow on a negative, the memories of +his earlier days. Things and happenings that he had almost forgotten +recurred to him now, as his trail led him farther and farther away from +the Gray Loon. And his earlier experiences became real again, pictures +thrown out afresh in his mind by the breaking of the last ties that +held him to the home of the Willow. Involuntarily he followed the trail +of these impressions--of these past happenings, and slowly they helped +to build up new interests for him. + +A year in his life was a long time--a decade of man's experience. It +was more than a year ago that he had left Kazan and Gray Wolf and the +old windfall, and yet now there came back to him indistinct memories of +those days of his earliest puppyhood, of the stream into which he had +fallen, and of his fierce battle with Papayuchisew. It was his later +experiences that roused the older memories. He came to the blind canyon +up which Nepeese and Pierrot had chased him. That seemed but yesterday. +He entered the little meadow, and stood beside the great rock that had +almost crushed the life out of the Willow's body; and then he +remembered where Wakayoo, his big bear friend, had died under Pierrot's +rifle--and he smelled of Wakayoo's whitened bones where they lay +scattered in the green grass, with flowers growing up among them. + +A day and night he spent in the little meadow before he went back out +of the canyon and into his old haunts along the creek, where Wakayoo +had fished for him. There was another bear here now, and he also was +fishing. Perhaps he was a son or a grandson of Wakayoo. Baree smelled +where he had made his fish caches, and for three days he lived on fish +before he struck out for the North. + +And now, for the first time in many weeks, a bit of the old-time +eagerness put speed into Baree's feet. Memories that had been hazy and +indistinct through forgetfulness were becoming realities again, and as +he would have returned to the Gray Loon had Nepeese been there so now, +with something of the feeling of a wanderer going home, he returned to +the old beaver pond. + +It was that most glorious hour of a summer's day--sunset--when he +reached it. He stopped a hundred yards away, with the pond still hidden +from his sight, and sniffed the air, and listened. The POND was there. +He caught the cool, honey smell of it. But Umisk, and Beaver Tooth, and +all the others? Would he find them? He strained his ears to catch a +familiar sound, and after a moment or two it came--a hollow splash in +the water. + +He went quietly through the alders and stood at last close to the spot +where he had first made the acquaintance of Umisk. The surface of the +pond was undulating slightly, two or three heads popped up. He saw the +torpedolike wake of an old beaver towing a stick close to the opposite +shore. He looked toward the dam, and it was as he had left it almost a +year ago. He did not show himself for a time, but stood concealed in +the young alders. He felt growing in him more and more a feeling of +restfulness, a relaxation from the long strain of the lonely months +during which he had waited for Nepeese. + +With a long breath he lay down among the alders, with his head just +enough exposed to give him a clear view. As the sun settled lower the +pond became alive. Out on the shore where he had saved Umisk from the +fox came another generation of young beavers--three of them, fat and +waddling. Very softly Baree whined. + +All that night he lay in the alders. The beaver pond became his home +again. Conditions were changed, of course, and as days grew into weeks +the inhabitants of Beaver Tooth's colony showed no signs of accepting +the grown-up Baree as they had accepted the baby Baree of long ago. He +was big, black, and wolfish now--a long-fanged and formidable-looking +creature, and though he offered no violence he was regarded by the +beavers with a deep-seated feeling of fear and suspicion. + +On the other hand, Baree no longer felt the old puppyish desire to play +with the baby beavers, so their aloofness did not trouble him as in +those other days. Umisk was grown up, too, a fat and prosperous young +buck who was just taking unto himself this year a wife, and who was at +present very busy gathering his winter's rations. It is entirely +probable that he did not associate the big black beast he saw now and +then with the little Baree with whom he had smelled noses once upon a +time, and it is quite likely that Baree did not recognize Umisk except +as a part of the memories that had remained with him. + +All through the month of August Baree made the beaver pond his +headquarters. At times his excursions kept him away for two or three +days at a time. These journeys were always into the north, sometimes a +little east and sometimes a little west, but never again into the +south. And at last, early in September, he left the beaver pond for +good. + +For many days his wanderings carried him in no one particular +direction. He followed the hunting, living chiefly on rabbits and that +simple-minded species of partridge known as the "fool hen." This diet, +of course, was given variety by other things as they happened to come +his way. Wild currants and raspberries were ripening, and Baree was +fond of these. He also liked the bitter berries of the mountain ash, +which, along with the soft balsam and spruce pitch which he licked with +his tongue now and then, were good medicine for him. In shallow water +he occasionally caught a fish. Now and then he hazarded a cautious +battle with a porcupine, and if he was successful he feasted on the +tenderest and most luscious of all the flesh that made up his menu. + +Twice in September he killed young deer. The big "burns" that he +occasionally came to no longer held terrors for him; in the midst of +plenty he forgot the days in which he had gone hungry. In October he +wandered as far west as the Geikie River, and then northward to +Wollaston Lake, which was a good hundred miles north of the Gray Loon. +The first week in November he turned south again, following the Canoe +River for a distance, and then swinging westward along a twisting creek +called The Little Black Bear with No Tail. + +More than once during these weeks Baree came into touch with man, but, +with the exception of the Cree hunter at the upper end of Wollaston +Lake, no man had seen him. Three times in following the Geikie he lay +crouched in the brush while canoes passed. Half a dozen times, in the +stillness of night, he nosed about cabins and tepees in which there was +life, and once he came so near to the Hudson's Bay Company post at +Wollaston that he could hear the barking of dogs and the shouting of +their masters. + +And always he was seeking--questing for the thing that had gone out of +his life. At the thresholds of the cabins he sniffed; outside of the +tepees he circled close, gathering the wind. The canoes he watched with +eyes in which there was a hopeful gleam. Once he thought the wind +brought him the scent of Nepeese, and all at once his legs grew weak +under his body and his heart seemed to stop beating. It was only for a +moment or two. She came out of the tepee--an Indian girl with her hands +full of willow work--and Baree slunk away unseen. + +It was almost December when Lerue, a half-breed from Lac Bain, saw +Baree's footprints in freshly fallen snow, and a little later caught a +flash of him in the bush. + +"Mon Dieu, I tell you his feet are as big as my hand, and he is as +black as a raven's wing with the sun on it!" he exclaimed in the +company's store at Lac Bain. "A fox? Non! He is half as big as a bear. +A wolf--oui! And black as the devil, m'sieus." + +McTaggart was one of those who heard. He was putting his signature in +ink to a letter he had written to the company when Lerue's words came +to him. His hand stopped so suddenly that a drop of ink spattered on +the letter. Through him there ran a curious shiver as he looked over at +the half-breed. Just then Marie came in. McTaggart had brought her back +from her tribe. Her big, dark eyes had a sick look in them, and some of +her wild beauty had gone since a year ago. + +"He was gone like--that!" Lerue was saying, with a snap of his fingers. +He saw Marie, and stopped. + +"Black, you say?" McTaggart said carelessly, without lifting his eyes +from his writing. "Did he not bear some dog mark?" + +Lerue shrugged his shoulders. + +"He was gone like the wind, m'sieu. But he was a wolf." + +With scarcely a sound that the others could hear Marie had whispered +into the factor's ear, and folding his letter McTaggart rose quickly +and left the store. He was gone an hour. Lerue and the others were +puzzled. It was not often that Marie came into the store. It was not +often that they saw her at all. She remained hidden in the factor's log +house, and each time that he saw her Lerue thought that her face was a +little thinner than the last, and her eyes bigger and hungrier looking. +In his own heart there was a great yearning. + +Many a night he passed the little window beyond which he knew that she +was sleeping. Often he looked to catch a glimpse of her pale face, and +he lived in the one happiness of knowing that Marie understood, and +that into her eyes there came for an instant a different light when +their glances met. No one else knew. The secret lay between them--and +patiently Lerue waited and watched. "Some day," he kept saying to +himself--"Some day"--and that was all. The one word carried a world of +meaning and of hope. When that day came he would take Marie straight to +the missioner over at Fort Churchill, and they would be married. It was +a dream--a dream that made the long days and the longer nights on the +trap line patiently endured. Now they were both slaves to the +environing Power. But--some day-- + +Lerue was thinking of this when McTaggart returned at the end of the +hour. The factor came straight up to where the half dozen of them were +seated about the big box stove, and with a grunt of satisfaction shook +the freshly fallen snow from his shoulders. + +"Pierre Eustach has accepted the Government's offer and is going to +guide that map-making party up into the Barrens this winter," he +announced. "You know, Lerue--he has a hundred and fifty traps and +deadfalls set, and a big poison-bait country. A good line, eh? And I +have leased it of him for the season. It will give me the outdoor work +I need--three days on the trail, three days here. Eh, what do you say +to the bargain?" + +"It is good," said Lerue. + +"Yes, it is good," said Roget. + +"A wide fox country," said Mons Roule. + +"And easy to travel," murmured Valence in a voice that was almost like +a woman's. + + + +CHAPTER 25 + +The trap line of Pierre Eustach ran thirty miles straight west of Lac +Bain. It was not as long a line as Pierrot's had been, but it was like +a main artery running through the heart of a rich fur country. It had +belonged to Pierre Eustach's father, and his grandfather, and his +great-grandfather, and beyond that it reached, Pierre averred, back to +the very pulse of the finest blood in France. The books at McTaggart's +Post went back only as far as the great-grandfather end of it, the +older evidence of ownership being at Churchill. It was the finest game +country between Reindeer Lake and the Barren Lands. It was in December +that Baree came to it. + +Again he was traveling southward in a slow and wandering fashion, +seeking food in the deep snows. The Kistisew Kestin, or Great Storm, +had come earlier than usual this winter, and for a week after it +scarcely a hoof or claw was moving. Baree, unlike the other creatures, +did not bury himself in the snow and wait for the skies to clear and +crust to form. He was big, and powerful, and restless. Less than two +years old, he weighed a good eighty pounds. His pads were broad and +wolfish. His chest and shoulders were like a Malemute's, heavy and yet +muscled for speed. He was wider between the eyes than the wolf-breed +husky, and his eyes were larger, and entirely clear of the Wuttooi, or +blood film, that marks the wolf and also to an extent the husky. His +jaws were like Kazan's, perhaps even more powerful. + +Through all that week of the Big Storm he traveled without food. There +were four days of snow, with driving blizzards and fierce winds, and +after that three days of intense cold in which every living creature +kept to its warm dugout in the snow. Even the birds had burrowed +themselves in. One might have walked on the backs of caribou and moose +and not have guessed it. Baree sheltered himself during the worst of +the storm but did not allow the snow to gather over him. + +Every trapper from Hudson's Bay to the country of the Athabasca knew +that after the Big Storm the famished fur animals would be seeking +food, and that traps and deadfalls properly set and baited stood the +biggest chance of the year of being filled. Some of them set out over +their trap lines on the sixth day; some on the seventh, and others on +the eighth. It was on the seventh day that Bush McTaggart started over +Pierre Eustach's line, which was now his own for the season. It took +him two days to uncover the traps, dig the snow from them, rebuild the +fallen "trap houses," and rearrange the baits. On the third day he was +back at Lac Bain. + +It was on this day that Baree came to the cabin at the far end of +McTaggart's line. McTaggart's trail was fresh in the snow about the +cabin, and the instant Baree sniffed of it every drop of blood in his +body seemed to leap suddenly with a strange excitement. It took perhaps +half a minute for the scent that filled his nostrils to associate +itself with what had gone before, and at the end of that half-minute +there rumbled in Baree's chest a deep and sullen growl. For many +minutes after that he stood like a black rock in the snow, watching the +cabin. + +Then slowly he began circling about it, drawing nearer and nearer, +until at last he was sniffing at the threshold. No sound or smell of +life came from inside, but he could smell the old smell of McTaggart. +Then he faced the wilderness--the direction in which the trap line ran +back to Lac Bain. He was trembling. His muscles twitched. He whined. +Pictures were assembling more and more vividly in his mind--the fight +in the cabin, Nepeese, the wild chase through the snow to the chasm's +edge--even the memory of that age-old struggle when McTaggart had +caught him in the rabbit snare. In his whine there was a great +yearning, almost expectation. Then it died slowly away. After all, the +scent in the snow was of a thing that he had hated and wanted to kill, +and not of anything that he had loved. For an instant nature had +impressed on him the significance of associations--a brief space only, +and then it was gone. The whine died away, but in its place came again +that ominous growl. + +Slowly he followed the trail and a quarter of a mile from the cabin +struck the first trap on the line. Hunger had caved in his sides until +he was like a starved wolf. In the first trap house McTaggart had +placed as bait the hindquarter of a snowshoe rabbit. Baree reached in +cautiously. He had learned many things on Pierrot's line: he had +learned what the snap of a trap meant. He had felt the cruel pain of +steel jaws; he knew better than the shrewdest fox what a deadfall would +do when the trigger was sprung--and Nepeese herself had taught him that +he was never to touch a poison bait. So he closed his teeth gently in +the rabbit flesh and drew it forth as cleverly as McTaggart himself +could have done. He visited five traps before dark, and ate the five +baits without springing a pan. The sixth was a deadfall. He circled +about this until he had beaten a path in the snow. Then he went on into +a warm balsam swamp and found himself a bed for the night. + +The next day saw the beginning of the struggle that was to follow +between the wits of man and beast. To Baree the encroachment of Bush +McTaggart's trap line was not war; it was existence. It was to furnish +him food, as Pierrot's line had furnished him food for many weeks. But +he sensed the fact that in this instance he was lawbreaker and had an +enemy to outwit. Had it been good hunting weather he might have gone +on, for the unseen hand that was guiding his wanderings was drawing him +slowly but surely back to the old beaver pond and the Gray Loon. As it +was, with the snow deep and soft under him--so deep that in places he +plunged into it over his ears--McTaggart's trap line was like a trail +of manna made for his special use. + +He followed in the factor's snowshoe tracks, and in the third trap +killed a rabbit. When he had finished with it nothing but the hair and +crimson patches of blood lay upon the snow. Starved for many days, he +was filled with a wolfish hunger, and before the day was over he had +robbed the bait from a full dozen of McTaggart's traps. Three times he +struck poison baits--venison or caribou fat in the heart of which was a +dose of strychnine, and each time his keen nostrils detected the +danger. Pierrot had more than once noted the amazing fact that Baree +could sense the presence of poison even when it was most skillfully +injected into the frozen carcass of a deer. Foxes and wolves ate of +flesh from which his supersensitive power of detecting the presence of +deadly danger turned him away. + +So he passed Bush McTaggart's poisoned tidbits, sniffing them on the +way, and leaving the story of his suspicion in the manner of his +footprints in the snow. Where McTaggart had halted at midday to cook +his dinner Baree made these same cautious circles with his feet. + +The second day, being less hungry and more keenly alive to the hated +smell of his enemy, Baree ate less but was more destructive. McTaggart +was not as skillful as Pierre Eustach in keeping the scent of his hands +from the traps and "houses," and every now and then the smell of him +was strong in Baree's nose. This wrought in Baree a swift and definite +antagonism, a steadily increasing hatred where a few days before hatred +was almost forgotten. + +There is, perhaps, in the animal mind a process of simple computation +which does not quite achieve the distinction of reason, and which is +not altogether instinct, but which produces results that might be +ascribed to either. Baree did not add two and two together to make +four. He did not go back step by step to prove to himself that the man +to whom this trap line belonged was the cause of all hit, griefs and +troubles--but he DID find himself possessed of a deep and yearning +hatred. McTaggart was the one creature except the wolves that he had +ever hated. It was McTaggart who had hurt him, McTaggart who had hurt +Pierrot, McTaggart who had made him lose his beloved Nepeese--AND +McTAGGART WAS HERE ON THIS TRAP LINE! If he had been wandering before, +without object or destiny, he was given a mission now. It was to keep +to the traps. To feed himself. And to vent his hatred and his vengeance +as he lived. + +The second day, in the center of a lake, he came upon the body of a +wolf that had died of one of the poison baits. For a half-hour he +mauled the dead beast until its skin was torn into ribbons. He did not +taste the flesh. It was repugnant to him. It was his vengeance on the +wolf breed. He stopped when he was half a dozen miles from Lac Bain, +and turned back. At this particular point the line crossed a frozen +stream beyond which was an open plain, and over that plain came--when +the wind was right--the smoke and smell of the Post. The second night +Baree lay with a full stomach in a thicket of banksian pine; the third +day he was traveling westward over the trap line again. + +Early on this morning Bush McTaggart started out to gather his catch, +and where he crossed the stream six miles from Lac Bain he first saw +Baree's tracks. He stopped to examine them with sudden and unusual +interest, falling at last on his knees, whipping off the glove from his +right hand, and picking up a single hair. + +"The black wolf!" + +He uttered the words in an odd, hard voice, and involuntarily his eyes +turned straight in the direction of the Gray Loon. After that, even +more carefully than before, he examined one of the clearly impressed +tracks in the snow. When he rose to his feet there was in his face the +look of one who had made an unpleasant discovery. + +"A black wolf!" he repeated, and shrugged his shoulders. "Bah! Lerue is +a fool. It is a dog." And then, after a moment, he muttered in a voice +scarcely louder than a whisper, "HER DOG." + +He went on, traveling in the trail of the dog. A new excitement +possessed him that was more thrilling than the excitement of the hunt. +Being human, it was his privilege to add two and two together, and out +of two and two he made--Baree. There was little doubt in his mind. The +thought had flashed on him first when Lerue had mentioned the black +wolf. He was convinced after his examination of the tracks. They were +the tracks of a dog, and the dog was black. Then he came to the first +trap that had been robbed of its bait. + +Under his breath he cursed. The bait was gone, and the trap was +unsprung. The sharpened stick that had transfixed the bait was pulled +out clean. + +All that day Bush McTaggart followed a trail where Baree had left +traces of his presence. Trap after trap he found robbed. On the lake he +came upon the mangled wolf. From the first disturbing excitement of his +discovery of Baree's presence his humor changed slowly to one of rage, +and his rage increased as the day dragged out. He was not unacquainted +with four-footed robbers of the trap line, but usually a wolf or a fox +or a dog who had grown adept in thievery troubled only a few traps. But +in this case Baree was traveling straight from trap to trap, and his +footprints in the snow showed that he had stopped at each one. There +was, to McTaggart, almost a human devilishness to his work. He evaded +the poisons. Not once did he stretch his head or paw within the danger +zone of a deadfall. For apparently no reason whatever he had destroyed +a splendid mink, whose glossy fur lay scattered in worthless bits over +the snow. Toward the end of the day McTaggart came to a deadfall in +which a lynx had died. Baree had torn the silvery flank of the animal +until the skin was of less than half value. McTaggart cursed aloud, and +his breath came hot. + +At dusk he reached the shack Pierre Eustach had built midway of his +line, and took inventory of his fur. It was not more than a third of a +catch; the lynx was half-ruined, a mink was torn completely in two. The +second day he found still greater ruin, still more barren traps. He was +like a madman. When he arrived at the second cabin, late in the +afternoon, Baree's tracks were not an hour old in the snow. Three times +during the night he heard the dog howling. + +The third day McTaggart did not return to Lac Bain, but began a +cautious hunt for Baree. An inch or two of fresh snow had fallen, and +as if to take even greater measure of vengeance from his man enemy +Baree had left his footprints freely within a radius of a hundred yards +of the cabin. It was half an hour before McTaggart could pick out the +straight trail, and he followed it for two hours into a thick banksian +swamp. Baree kept with the wind. Now and then he caught the scent of +his pursuer. A dozen times he waited until the other was so close he +could hear the snap of brush, or the metallic click of twigs against +his rifle barrel. And then, with a sudden inspiration that brought the +curses afresh to McTaggart's lips, he swung in a wide circle and cut +straight back for the trap line. When the factor reached the line, +along toward noon, Baree had already begun his work. He had killed and +eaten a rabbit. He had robbed three traps within the distance of a +mile, and he was headed again straight over the trap line for Post Lac +Bain. + +It was the fifth day that Bush McTaggart returned to his post. He was +in an ugly mood. Only Valence of the four Frenchmen was there, and it +was Valence who heard his story, and afterward heard him cursing Marie. +She came into the store a little later, big-eyed and frightened, one of +her cheeks flaming red where McTaggart had struck her. While the +storekeeper was getting her the canned salmon McTaggart wanted for his +dinner Valence found the opportunity to whisper softly in her ear: + +"M'sieu Lerue has trapped a silver fox," he said with low triumph. "He +loves you, cherie, and he will have a splendid catch by spring--and +sends you this message from his cabin up on The Little Black Bear with +No Tail: BE READY TO FLY WHEN THE SOFT SNOWS COME!" + +Marie did not look at him, but she heard, and her eyes shone so like +stars when the young storekeeper gave her the salmon that he said to +Valence, when she had gone: + +"Blue Death, but she is still beautiful at times. Valence!" + +To which Valence nodded with an odd smile. + + + +CHAPTER 26 + +By the middle of January the war between Baree and Bush McTaggart had +become more than an incident--more than a passing adventure to the +beast, and more than an irritating happening to the man. It was, for +the time, the elemental raison d'etre of their lives. Baree hung to the +trap line. He haunted it like a devastating specter, and each time that +he sniffed afresh the scent of the factor from Lac Bain he was +impressed still more strongly with the instinct that he was avenging +himself upon a deadly enemy. Again and again he outwitted McTaggart. He +continued to strip his traps of their bait and the humor grew in him +more strongly to destroy the fur he came across. His greatest pleasure +came to be--not in eating--but in destroying. + +The fires of his hatred burned fiercer as the weeks passed, until at +last he would snap and tear with his long fangs at the snow where +McTaggart's feet had passed. And all of the time, away back of his +madness, there was a vision of Nepeese that continued to grow more and +more clearly in his brain. That first Great Loneliness--the loneliness +of the long days and longer nights of his waiting and seeking on the +Gray Loon, oppressed him again as it had oppressed him in the early +days of her disappearance. On starry or moonlit nights he sent forth +his wailing cries for her again, and Bush McTaggart, listening to them +in the middle of the night, felt strange shivers run up his spine. The +man's hatred was different than the beast's, but perhaps even more +implacable. With McTaggart it was not hatred alone. There was mixed +with it an indefinable and superstitious fear, a thing he laughed at, a +thing he cursed at, but which clung to him as surely as the scent of +his trail clung to Baree's nose. Baree no longer stood for the animal +alone; HE STOOD FOR NEPEESE. That was the thought that insisted in +growing in McTaggart's ugly mind. Never a day passed now that he did +not think of the Willow; never a night came and went without a +visioning of her face. + +He even fancied, on a certain night of storm, that he heard her voice +out in the wailing of the wind--and less than a minute later he heard +faintly a distant howl out in the forest. That night his heart was +filled with a leaden dread. He shook himself. He smoked his pipe until +the cabin was blue. He cursed Baree, and the storm--but there was no +longer in him the bullying courage of old. He had not ceased to hate +Baree; he still hated him as he had never hated a man, but he had an +even greater reason now for wanting to kill him. It came to him first +in his sleep, in a restless dream, and after that it lived, and +lived--THE THOUGHT THAT THE SPIRIT OF NEPEESE WAS GUIDING BAREE IN THE +RAVAGING OF HIS TRAP LINE! + +After a time he ceased to talk at the Post about the Black Wolf that +was robbing his line. The furs damaged by Baree's teeth he kept out of +sight, and to himself he kept his secret. He learned every trick and +scheme of the hunters who killed foxes and wolves along the Barrens. He +tried three different poisons, one so powerful that a single drop of it +meant death. He tried strychnine in gelatin capsules, in deer fat, +caribou fat, moose liver, and even in the flesh of porcupine. At last, +in preparing his poisons, he dipped his hands in beaver oil before he +handled the venoms and flesh so that there could be no human smell. +Foxes, wolves, and even the mink and ermine died of these baits, but +Baree came always so near--and no nearer. In January McTaggart poisoned +every bait in his trap houses. This produced at least one good result +for him. From that day Baree no longer touched his baits, but ate only +the rabbits he killed in the traps. + +It was in January that McTaggart caught his first glimpse of Baree. He +had placed his rifle against a tree, and was a dozen feet away from it +at the time. It was as if Baree knew, and had come to taunt him. For +when the factor suddenly looked up Baree was standing out clear from +the dwarf spruce not twenty yards away from him, his white fangs +gleaming and his eyes burning like coals. For a space McTaggart stared +as if turned into stone. It was Baree. He recognized the white star, +the white-tipped ear, and his heart thumped like a hammer in his +breast. Very slowly he began to creep toward his rifle. His hand was +reaching for it when like a flash Baree was gone. + +This gave McTaggart his new idea. He blazed himself a fresh trail +through the forests parallel with his trap line but at least five +hundred yards distant from it. Wherever a trap or deadfall was set this +new trail struck sharply in, like the point of a V, so that he could +approach his line unobserved. By this strategy he believed that in time +he was sure of getting a shot at the dog. + +Again it was the man who was reasoning, and again it was the man who +was defeated. The first day that McTaggart followed his new trail Baree +also struck that trail. For a little while it puzzled him. Three times +he cut back and forth between the old and the new trail. Then there was +no doubt. The new trail was the FRESH trail, and he followed in the +footsteps of the factor from Lac Bain. McTaggart did not know what was +happening until his return trip, when he saw the story told in the +snow. Baree had visited each trap, and without exception he had +approached each time at the point of the inverted V. After a week of +futile hunting, of lying in wait, of approaching at every point of the +wind--a period during which McTaggart had twenty times cursed himself +into fits of madness, another idea came to him. It was like an +inspiration, and so simple that it seemed almost inconceivable that he +had not thought of it before. + +He hurried back to Post Lac Bain. + +The second day after he was on the trail at dawn. This time he carried +a pack in which there were a dozen strong wolf traps freshly dipped in +beaver oil, and a rabbit which he had snared the previous night. Now +and then he looked anxiously at the sky. It was clear until late in the +afternoon, when banks of dark clouds began rolling up from the east. +Half an hour later a few flakes of snow began falling. McTaggart let +one of these drop on the back of his mittened hand, and examined it +closely. It was soft and downy, and he gave vent to his satisfaction. +It was what he wanted. Before morning there would be six inches of +freshly fallen snow covering the trails. + +He stopped at the next trap house and quickly set to work. First he +threw away the poisoned bait in the "house" and replaced it with the +rabbit. Then he began setting his wolf traps. Three of these he placed +close to the "door" of the house, through which Baree would have to +reach for the bait. The remaining nine he scattered at intervals of a +foot or sixteen inches apart, so that when he was done a veritable +cordon of traps guarded the house. He did not fasten the chains, but +let them lay loose in the snow. If Baree got into one trap he would get +into others and there would be no use of toggles. His work done, +McTaggart hurried on through the thickening twilight of winter night to +his shack. He was highly elated. This time there could be no such thing +as failure. He had sprung every trap on his way from Lac Bain. In none +of those traps would Baree find anything to eat until he came to the +"nest" of twelve wolf traps. + +Seven inches of snow fell that night, and the whole world seemed turned +into a wonderful white robe. Like billows of feathers the snow clung to +the trees and shrubs. It gave tall white caps to the rocks, and +underfoot it was so light that a cartridge dropped from the hand sank +out of sight. Baree was on the trap line early. He was more cautious +this morning, for there was no longer the scent or snowshoe track of +McTaggart to guide him. He struck the first trap about halfway between +Lac Bain and the shack in which the factor was waiting. It was sprung, +and there was no bait. Trap after trap he visited, and all of them he +found sprung, and all without bait. He sniffed the air suspiciously, +striving vainly to catch the tang of smoke, a whiff of the man smell. + +Along toward noon he came to the "nest"--the twelve treacherous traps +waiting for him with gaping jaws half a foot under the blanket of snow. +For a full minute he stood well outside the danger line, sniffing the +air, and listening. He saw the rabbit, and his jaws closed with a +hungry click. He moved a step nearer. Still he was suspicious--for some +strange and inexplicable reason he sensed danger. Anxiously he sought +for it with his nose, his eyes, and his ears. And all about him there +was a great silence and a great peace. His jaws clicked again. He +whined softly. What was it stirring him? Where was the danger he could +neither see nor smell? Slowly he circled about the trap house. Three +times he circled round it, each circle drawing him a little +nearer--until at last his feet almost touched the outer cordon of +traps. Another minute he stood still; his ears flattened; in spite of +the rich aroma of the rabbit in his nostrils SOMETHING WAS DRAWING HIM +AWAY. In another moment he would have gone, but there came +suddenly--and from directly behind the trap house--a fierce little +ratlike squeak, and the next instant Baree saw an ermine whiter than +the snow tearing hungrily at the flesh of the rabbit. He forgot his +strange premonition of danger. He growled fiercely, but his plucky +little rival did not budge from his feast. And then he sprang straight +into the "nest" that Bush McTaggart had made for him. + + + +CHAPTER 27 + +The next morning Bush McTaggart heard the clanking of a chain when he +was still a good quarter of a mile from the "nest." Was it a lynx? Was +it a fishercat? Was it a wolf or a fox? OR WAS IT BAREE? He half ran +the rest of the distance, and it last he came to where he could see, +and his heart leaped into his throat when he saw that he had caught his +enemy. He approached, holding his rifle ready to fire if by any chance +the dog should free himself. + +Baree lay on his side, panting from exhaustion and quivering with pain. +A hoarse cry of exultation burst from McTaggart's lips as he drew +nearer and looked at the snow. It was packed hard for many feet about +the trap house, where Baree had struggled, and it was red with blood. +The blood had come mostly from Baree's jaws. They were dripping now as +he glared at his enemy. The steel jaws hidden under the snow had done +their merciless work well. One of his forefeet was caught well up +toward the first joint; both hind feet were caught. A fourth trap had +closed on his flank, and in tearing the jaws loose he had pulled off a +patch of skin half as big as McTaggart's hand. The snow told the story +of his desperate fight all through the night. His bleeding jaws showed +how vainly he had tried to break the imprisoning steel with his teeth. +He was panting. His eyes were bloodshot. + +But even now, after all his hours of agony, neither his spirit nor his +courage was broken. When he saw McTaggart he made a lunge to his feet, +almost instantly crumpling down into the snow again. But his forefeet +were braced. His head and chest remained up, and the snarl that came +from his throat was tigerish in its ferocity. Here, at last--not more +than a dozen feet from him--was the one thing in all the world that he +hated more than he hated the wolf breed. And again he was helpless, as +he had been helpless that other time in the rabbit snare. + +The fierceness of his snarl did not disturb Bush McTaggart now. He saw +how utterly the other was at his mercy, and with an exultant laugh he +leaned his rifle against a tree, pulled oft his mittens, and began +loading his pipe. This was the triumph he had looked forward to, the +torture he had waited for. In his soul there was a hatred as deadly as +Baree's, the hatred that a man might have for a man. He had expected to +send a bullet through the dog. But this was better--to watch him dying +by inches, to taunt him as he would have taunted a human, to walk about +him so that he could hear the clank of the traps and see the fresh +blood drip as Baree twisted his tortured legs and body to keep facing +him. It was a splendid vengeance. He was so engrossed in it that he did +not hear the approach of snowshoes behind him. It was a voice--a man's +voice--that turned him round in his tracks. + +The man was a stranger, and he was younger than McTaggart by ten years. +At least he looked no more than thirty-five or six, even with the short +growth of blond beard he wore. He was of that sort that the average man +would like at first glance; boyish, and yet a man; with clear eyes that +looked out frankly from under the rim of his fur cap, a form lithe as +an Indian's, and a face that did not bear the hard lines of the +wilderness. Yet McTaggart knew before he had spoken that this man was +of the wilderness, that he was heart and soul a part of it. His cap was +of fisher skin. He wore a windproof coat of softly tanned caribou skin, +belted at the waist with a long sash, and Indian fringed. The inside of +the coat was furred. He was traveling on the long, slender bush country +snowshoe. His pack, strapped over the shoulders, was small and compact; +he was carrying his rifle in a cloth jacket. And from cap to snowshoes +he was TRAVEL WORN. McTaggart, at a guess, would have said that he had +traveled a thousand miles in the last few weeks. It was not this +thought that sent the strange and chilling thrill up his back; but the +sudden fear that in some strange way a whisper of the truth might have +found its way down into the south--the truth of what had happened on +the Gray Loon--and that this travel-worn stranger wore under his +caribou-skin coat the badge of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police. For +that instant it was almost a terror that possessed him, and he stood +mute. + +The stranger had uttered only an amazed exclamation before. Now he +said, with his eyes on Baree: + +"God save us, but you've got the poor devil in a right proper mess, +haven't you?" + +There was something in the voice that reassured McTaggart. It was not a +suspicious voice, and he saw that the stranger was more interested in +the captured animal than in himself. He drew a deep breath. + +"A trap robber," he said. + +The stranger was staring still more closely at Baree. He thrust his gun +stock downward in the snow and drew nearer to him. + +"God save us again--a dog!" he exclaimed. + +From behind, McTaggart was watching the man with the eyes of a ferret. + +"Yes, a dog," he answered. "A wild dog, half wolf at least. He's robbed +me of a thousand dollars' worth of fur this winter." + +The stranger squatted himself before Baree, with his mittened hands +resting on his knees, and his white teeth gleaming in a half smile. + +"You poor devil!" he said sympathetically. "So you're a trap robber, +eh? An outlaw? And--the police have got you! And--God save us once +more--they haven't played you a very square game!" + +He rose and faced McTaggart. + +"I had to set a lot of traps like that," the factor apologized, his +face reddening slightly under the steady gaze of the stranger's blue +eyes. Suddenly his animus rose. "And he's going to die there, inch by +inch. I'm going to let him starve, and rot in the traps, to pay for all +he's done." He picked up his gun, and added, with his eyes on the +stranger and his finger ready at the trigger, "I'm Bush McTaggart, the +factor at Lac Bain. Are you bound that way, M'sieu?" + +"A few miles. I'm bound upcountry--beyond the Barrens." + +McTaggart felt again the strange thrill. + +"Government?" he asked. + +The stranger nodded. + +"The--police, perhaps," persisted McTaggart. + +"Why, yes--of course--the police," said the stranger, looking straight +into the factor's eyes. "And now, m'sieu, as a very great courtesy to +the Law I'm going to ask you to send a bullet through that beast's head +before we go on. Will you? Or shall I?" + +"It's the law of the line," said McTaggart, "to let a trap robber rot +in the traps. And that beast was a devil. Listen--" + +Swiftly, and yet leaving out none of the fine detail, he told of the +weeks and months of strife between himself and Baree; of the maddening +futility of all his tricks and schemes and the still more maddening +cleverness of the beast he had at last succeeded in trapping. + +"He was a devil--that clever," he cried fiercely when he had finished. +"And now--would you shoot him, or let him lie there and die by inches, +as the devil should?" + +The stranger was looking at Baree. His face was turned away from +McTaggart. He said: + +"I guess you are right. Let the devil rot. If you're heading for Lac +Bain, m'sieu, I'll travel a short distance with you now. It will take a +couple of miles to straighten out the line of my compass." + +He picked up his gun. McTaggart led the way. At the end of half an hour +the stranger stopped, and pointed north. + +"Straight up there--a good five hundred miles," he said, speaking as +lightly as though he would reach home that night. "I'll leave you here." + +He made no offer to shake hands. But in going, he said: + +"You might report that John Madison has passed this way." + +After that he traveled straight northward for half a mile through the +deep forest. Then he swung westward for two miles, turned at a sharp +angle into the south, and an hour after he had left McTaggart he was +once more squatted on his heels almost within arms' reach of Baree. + +And he was saying, as though speaking to a human companion: + +"So that's what you've been, old boy. A trap robber, eh? An OUTLAW? And +you beat him at the game for two months! And for that, because you're a +better beast than he is, he wants to let you die here as slow as you +can. An OUTLAW!" His voice broke into a pleasant laugh, the sort of +laugh that warms one, even a beast. "That's funny. We ought to shake +hands, Boy, by George, we had! You're a wild one, he says. Well, so am +I. Told him my name was John Madison. It ain't. I'm Jim Carvel. And, oh +Lord!--all I said was 'police.' And that was right. It ain't a lie. I'm +wanted by the whole corporation--by every danged policeman between +Hudson's Bay and the Mackenzie River. Shake, old man. We're in the same +boat, an' I'm glad to meet you!" + + + +CHAPTER 28 + +Jim Carvel held out his hand, and the snarl that was in Baree's throat +died away. The man rose to his feet. He stood there, looking in the +direction taken by Bush McTaggart, and chuckled in a curious, exultant +sort of way. + +There was friendliness even in that chuckle. There was friendliness in +his eyes and in the shine of his teeth as he looked again at Baree. +About him there was something that seemed to make the gray day +brighter, that seemed to warm the chill air--a strange something that +radiated cheer and hope and comradeship just as a hot stove sends out +the glow of heat. Baree felt it. For the first time since the two men +had come his trap-torn body lost its tenseness; his back sagged; his +teeth clicked as he shivered in his agony. To THIS man he betrayed his +weakness. In his bloodshot eyes there was a hungering look as he +watched Carvel--the self-confessed outlaw. And Jim Carvel again held +out his hand--much nearer this time. + +"You poor devil," he said, the smile going out of his face. "You poor +devil!" + +The words were like a caress to Baree--the first he had known since the +loss of Nepeese and Pierrot. He dropped his head until his jaw lay flat +in the snow. Carvel could see the blood dripping slowly from it. + +"You poor devil!" he repeated. + +There was no fear in the way he put forth his hand. It was the +confidence of a great sincerity and a great compassion. It touched +Baree's head and patted it in a brotherly fashion, and then--slowly and +with a bit more caution--it went to the trap fastened to Baree's +forepaw. In his half-crazed brain Baree was fighting to understand +things, and the truth came finally when he felt the steel jaws of the +trap open, and he drew forth his maimed foot. He did then what he had +done to no other creature but Nepeese. Just once his hot tongue shot +out and licked Carvel's hand. The man laughed. With his powerful hands +he opened the other traps, and Baree was free. + +For a few moments he lay without moving, his eyes fixed on the man. +Carvel had seated himself on the snow-covered end of a birch log and +was filling his pipe. Baree watched him light it; he noted with new +interest the first purplish cloud of smoke that left Carvel's mouth. +The man was not more than the length of two trap chains away--and he +grinned at Baree. + +"Screw up your nerve, old chap," he encouraged. "No bones broke. Just a +little stiff. Mebby we'd better--get out." + +He turned his face in the direction of Lac Bain. The suspicion was in +his mind that McTaggart might turn back. Perhaps that same suspicion +was impressed upon Baree, for when Carvel looked at him again he was on +his feet, staggering a bit as he gained his equilibrium. In another +moment the outlaw had swung the packsack from his shoulders and was +opening it. He thrust in his hand and drew out a chunk of raw, red meat. + +"Killed it this morning," he explained to Baree. "Yearling bull, tender +as partridge--and that's as fine a sweetbread as ever came out from +under a backbone. Try it!" + +He tossed the flesh to Baree. There was no equivocation in the manner +of its acceptance. Baree was famished--and the meat was flung to him by +a friend. He buried his teeth in it. His jaws crunched it. New fire +leapt into his blood as he feasted, but not for an instant did his +reddened eyes leave the other's face. Carvel replaced his pack. He rose +to his feet, took up his rifle, slipped on his snowshoes, and fronted +the north. + +"Come on. Boy," he said. "We've got to travel." + +It was a matter-of-fact invitation, as though the two had been +traveling companions for a long time. It was, perhaps, not only an +invitation but partly a command. It puzzled Baree. For a full +half-minute he stood motionless in his tracks gazing at Carvel as he +strode into the north. A sudden convulsive twitching shot through +Baree. He swung his head toward Lac Bain; he looked again at Carvel, +and a whine that was scarcely more than a breath came out of his +throat. The man was just about to disappear into the thick spruce. He +paused, and looked back. + +"Coming, Boy?" + +Even at that distance Baree could see him grinning affably. He saw the +outstretched hand, and the voice stirred new sensations in him. It was +not like Pierrot's voice. He had never loved Pierrot. Neither was it +soft and sweet like the Willow's. He had known only a few men, and all +of them he had regarded with distrust. But this was a voice that +disarmed him. It was lureful in its appeal. He wanted to answer it. He +was filled with a desire, all at once, to follow close at the heels of +this stranger. For the first time in his life a craving for the +friendship of man possessed him. He did not move until Jim Carvel +entered the spruce. Then he followed. + +That night they were camped in a dense growth of cedars and balsams ten +miles north of Bush McTaggart's trap line. For two hours it had snowed, +and their trail was covered. It was still snowing, but not a flake of +the white deluge sifted down through the thick canopy of boughs. Carvel +had put up his small silk tent, and had built a fire. Their supper was +over, and Baree lay on his belly facing the outlaw, almost within reach +of his hand. With his back to a tree Carvel was smoking luxuriously. He +had thrown off his cap and his coat, and in the warm fireglow he looked +almost boyishly young. But even in that glow his jaws lost none of +their squareness, nor his eyes their clear alertness. + +"Seems good to have someone to talk to," he was saying to Baree. +"Someone who can understand, an' keep his mouth shut. Did you ever want +to howl, an' didn't dare? Well, that's me. Sometimes I've been on the +point of bustin' because I wanted to talk to someone, an' couldn't." + +He rubbed his hands together, and held them out toward the fire. Baree +watched his movements and listened intently to every sound that escaped +his lips. His eyes had in them now a dumb sort of worship, a look that +warmed Carvel's heart and did away with the vast loneliness and +emptiness of the night. Baree had dragged himself nearer to the man's +feet, and suddenly Carvel leaned over and patted his head. + +"I'm a bad one, old chap," he chuckled. "You haven't got it on me--not +a bit. Want to know what happened?" He waited a moment, and Baree +looked at him steadily. Then Carvel went on, as if speaking to a human, +"Let's see--it was five years ago, five years this December, just +before Christmas time. Had a Dad. Fine old chap, my dad was. No +Mother--just the Dad, an' when you added us up we made just One. +Understand? And along came a white-striped skunk named Hardy and shot +him one day because Dad had worked against him in politics. Out an' out +murder. An' they didn't hang that skunk! No, sir, they didn't hang him. +He had too much money, an' too many friends in politics, an' they let +'im off with two years in the penitentiary. But he didn't get there. +No--s'elp me God, he didn't get there!" + +Carvel was twisting his hands until his knuckles cracked. An exultant +smile lighted up his face, and his eyes flashed back the firelight. +Baree drew a deep breath--a mere coincidence; but it was a tense moment +for all that. + +"No, he didn't get to the penitentiary," went on Carvel, looking +straight at Baree again. "Yours truly knew what that meant, old chap. +He'd have been pardoned inside a year. An' there was my dad, the +biggest half of me, in his grave. So I just went up to that +white-striped skunk right there before the judge's eyes, an' the +lawyers' eyes, an' the eyes of all his dear relatives an' friends--AND +I KILLED HIM! And I got away. Was out through a window before they woke +up, hit for the bush country, and have been eating up the trails ever +since. An' I guess God was with me, Boy. For He did a queer thing to +help me out summer before last, just when the Mounties were after me +hardest an' it looked pretty black. Man was found drowned down in the +Reindeer Country, right where they thought I was cornered. An' the good +Lord made that man look so much like me that he was buried under my +name. So I'm officially dead, old chap. I don't need to be afraid any +more so long as I don't get too familiar with people for a year or so +longer, and 'way down inside me I've liked to believe God fixed it up +in that way to help me out of a bad hole. What's YOUR opinion? Eh?" + +He leaned forward for an answer. Baree had listened. Perhaps, in a way, +he had understood. But it was another sound than Carvel's voice that +came to his ears now. With his head close to the ground he heard it +quite distinctly. He whined, and the whine ended in a snarl so low that +Carvel just caught the warning note in it. He straightened. He stood up +then, and faced the south. Baree stood beside him, his legs tense and +his spine bristling. + +After a moment Carvel said: + +"Relatives of yours, old chap. Wolves." + +He went into the tent for his rifle and cartridges. + + + +CHAPTER 29 + +Baree was on his feet, rigid as hewn rock, when Carvel came out of the +tent, and for a few moments Carvel stood in silence, watching him +closely. Would the dog respond to the call of the pack? Did he belong +to them? Would he go--now? The wolves were drawing nearer. They were +not circling, as a caribou or a deer would have circled, but were +traveling straight--dead straight for their camp. The significance of +this fact was easily understood by Carvel. All that afternoon Baree's +feet had left a blood smell in their trail, and the wolves had struck +the trail in the deep forest, where the falling snow had not covered +it. Carvel was not alarmed. More than once in his five years of +wandering between the Arctic and the Height of Land he had played the +game with the wolves. Once he had almost lost, but that was out in the +open Barren. Tonight he had a fire, and in the event of his firewood +running out he had trees he could climb. His anxiety just now was +centered in Baree. So he said, making his voice quite casual: + +"You aren't going, are you, old chap?" + +If Baree heard him he gave no evidence of it. But Carvel, still +watching him closely, saw that the hair along his spine had risen like +a brush, and then he heard--growing slowly in Baree's throat--a snarl +of ferocious hatred. It was the sort of snarl that had held back the +factor from Lac Bain, and Carvel, opening the breech of his gun to see +that all was right, chuckled happily. Baree may have heard the chuckle. +Perhaps it meant something to him, for he turned his head suddenly and +with flattened ears looked at his companion. + +The wolves were silent now. Carvel knew what that meant, and he was +tensely alert. In the stillness the click of the safety on his rifle +sounded with metallic sharpness. For many minutes they heard nothing +but the crack of the fire. Suddenly Baree's muscles seemed to snap. He +sprang back, and faced the quarter behind Carvel, his head level with +his shoulders, his inch-long fangs gleaming as he snarled into the +black caverns of the forest beyond the rim of firelight. Carvel had +turned like a shot. It was almost frightening--what he saw. A pair of +eyes burning with greenish fire, and then another pair, and after that +so many of them that he could not have counted them. He gave a sadden +gasp. They were like cat eyes, only much larger. Some of them, catching +the firelight fully, were red as coals, others flashed blue and +green--living things without bodies. With a swift glance he took in the +black circle of the forest. They were out there, too; they were on all +sides of them, but where he had seen them first they were thickest. In +these first few seconds he had forgotten Baree, awed almost to +stupefaction by that monster-eyed cordon of death that hemmed them in. +There were fifty--perhaps a hundred wolves out there, afraid of nothing +in all this savage world but fire. They had come up without the sound +of a padded foot or a broken twig. If it had been later, and they had +been asleep, and the fire out-- + +He shuddered, and for a moment the thought got the better of his +nerves. He had not intended to shoot except from necessity, but all at +once his rifle came to his shoulder and he sent a stream of fire out +where the eyes were thickest. Baree knew what the shots meant, and +filled with the mad desire to get at the throat of one of his enemies +he dashed in their direction. Carvel gave a startled yell as he went. +He saw the flash of Baree's body, saw it swallowed up in the gloom, and +in that same instant heard the deadly clash of fangs and the impact of +bodies. A wild thrill shot through him. The dog had charged alone--and +the wolves had waited. There could be but one end. His four-footed +comrade had gone straight into the jaws of death! + +He could hear the ravening snap of those jaws out in the darkness. It +was sickening. His hand went to the Colt .45 at his belt, and he thrust +his empty rifle butt downward into the snow. With the big automatic +before his eyes he plunged out into the darkness, and from his lips +there issued a wild yelling that could have been heard a mile away. +With the yelling a steady stream of fire spat from the Colt into the +mass of fighting beasts. There were eight shots in the automatic, and +not until the plunger clicked with metallic emptiness did Carvel cease +his yelling and retreat into the firelight. He listened, breathing +deeply. He no longer saw eyes in the darkness, nor did he hear the +movement of bodies. The suddenness and ferocity of his attack had +driven back the wolf horde. But the dog! He caught his breath, and +strained his eyes. A shadow was dragging itself into the circle of +light. It was Baree. Carvel ran to him, put his arms under his +shoulders, and brought him to the fire. + +For a long time after that there was a questioning light in Carvel's +eyes. He reloaded his guns, put fresh fuel on the fire, and from his +pack dug out strips of cloth with which he bandaged three or four of +the deepest cuts in Baree's legs. And a dozen times he asked, in a +wondering sort of way, + +"Now what the deuce made you do that, old chap? What have YOU got +against the wolves?" + +All that night he did not sleep, but watched. + + +Their experience with the wolves broke down the last bit of uncertainty +that might have existed between the man and the dog. For days after +that, as they traveled slowly north and west, Carvel nursed Baree as he +might have cared for a sick child. Because of the dog's hurts, he made +only a few miles a day. Baree understood, and in him there grew +stronger and stronger a great love for the man whose hands were as +gentle as the Willow's and whose voice warmed him with the thrill of an +immeasurable comradeship. He no longer feared him or had a suspicion of +him. And Carvel, on his part, was observing things. The vast emptiness +of the world about them, and their aloneness, gave him the opportunity +of pondering over unimportant details, and he found himself each day +watching Baree a little more closely. He made at last a discovery which +interested him deeply. Always, when they halted on the trail, Baree +would turn his face to the south. When they were in camp it was from +the south that he nosed the wind most frequently. This was quite +natural, Carvel thought, for his old hunting grounds were back there. +But as the days passed he began to notice other things. Now and then, +looking off into the far country from which they had come, Baree would +whine softly, and on that day he would be filled with a great +restlessness. He gave no evidence of wanting to leave Carvel, but more +and more Carvel came to understand that some mysterious call was coming +to him from out of the south. + +It was the wanderer's intention to swing over into the country of the +Great Slave, a good eight hundred miles to the north and west, before +the mush snows came. From there, when the waters opened in springtime, +he planned to travel by canoe westward to the Mackenzie and ultimately +to the mountains of British Columbia. These plans were changed in +February. They were caught in a great storm in the Wholdaia Lake +country, and when their fortunes looked darkest Carvel stumbled on a +cabin in the heart of a deep spruce forest, and in this cabin there was +a dead man. He had been dead for many days, and was frozen stiff. +Carvel chopped a hole in the earth and buried him. + +The cabin was a treasure trove to Carvel and Baree, and especially to +the man. It evidently possessed no other owner than the one who had +died. It was comfortable and stocked with provisions; and more than +that, its owner had made a splendid catch of fur before the frost bit +his lungs, and he died. Carvel went over them carefully and joyously. +They were worth a thousand dollars at any post, and he could see no +reason why they did not belong to him now. Within a week he had blazed +out the dead man's snow-covered trap line and was trapping on his own +account. + +This was two hundred miles north and west of the Gray Loon, and soon +Carvel observed that Baree did not face directly south in those moments +when the strange call came to him, but south and east. And now, with +each day that passed, the sun rose higher in the sky; it grew warmer; +the snow softened underfoot, and in the air was the tremulous and +growing throb of spring. With these things came the old yearning to +Baree; the heart-thrilling call of the lonely graves back on the Gray +Loon, of the burned cabin, the abandoned tepee beyond the pool--and of +Nepeese. In his sleep he saw visions of things. He heard again the low, +sweet voice of the Willow, felt the touch of her hand, was at play with +her once more in the dark shades of the forest--and Carvel would sit +and watch him as he dreamed, trying to read the meaning of what he saw +and heard. + +In April Carvel shouldered his furs up to the Hudson's Bay Company's +post at Lac la Biche, which was still farther north. Baree accompanied +him halfway, and then--at sundown Carvel returned to the cabin and +found him there. He was so overjoyed that he caught the dog's head in +his arms and hugged it. They lived in the cabin until May. The buds +were swelling then, and the smell of growing things had begun to rise +up out of the earth. + +Then Carvel found the first of the early blue flowers. + +That night he packed up. + +"It's time to travel," he announced to Baree. "And I've sort of changed +my mind. We're going back--there." And he pointed south. + + + +CHAPTER 30 + +A strange humor possessed Carvel as he began the southward journey. He +did not believe in omens, good or bad. + +Superstition had played a small part in his life, but he possessed both +curiosity and a love for adventure, and his years of lonely wandering +had developed in him a wonderfully clear mental vision of things, which +in other words might be called a singularly active imagination. He knew +that some irresistible force was drawing Baree back into the +south--that it was pulling him not only along a given line of the +compass, but to an exact point in that line. + +For no reason in particular the situation began to interest him more +and more, and as his time was valueless, and he had no fixed +destination in view, he began to experiment. For the first two days he +marked the dog's course by compass. It was due southeast. On the third +morning Carvel purposely struck a course straight west. He noted +quickly the change in Baree--his restlessness at first, and after that +the dejected manner in which he followed at his heels. Toward noon +Carvel swung sharply to the south and east again, and almost +immediately Baree regained his old eagerness, and ran ahead of his +master. + +After this, for many days, Carvel followed the trail of the dog. + +"Mebby I'm an idiot, old chap," he apologized one evening. "But it's a +bit of fun, after all--an' I've got to hit the line of rail before I +can get over to the mountains, so what's the difference? I'm game--so +long as you don't take me back to that chap at Lac Bain. Now--what the +devil! Are you hitting for his trap line, to get even? If that's the +case--" + +He blew out a cloud of smoke from his pipe as he eyed Baree, and Baree, +with his head between his forepaws, eyed him back. + +A week later Baree answered Carvel's question by swinging westward to +give a wide berth to Post Lac Bain. It was midafternoon when they +crossed the trail along which Bush McTaggart's traps and deadfalls had +been set. Baree did not even pause. He headed due south, traveling so +fast that at times he was lost to Carvel's sight. A suppressed but +intense excitement possessed him, and he whined whenever Carvel stopped +to rest--always with his nose sniffing the wind out of the south. +Springtime, the flowers, the earth turning green, the singing of birds, +and the sweet breaths in the air were bringing him back to that great +yesterday when he had belonged to Nepeese. In his unreasoning mind +there existed no longer a winter. The long months of cold and hunger +were gone; in the new visionings that filled his brain they were +forgotten. The birds and flowers and the blue skies had come back, and +with them the Willow must surely have returned, and she was waiting for +him now, just over there beyond that rim of green forest. + +Something greater than mere curiosity began to take possession of +Carvel. A whimsical humor became a fixed and deeper thought, an +unreasoning anticipation that was accompanied by a certain thrill of +subdued excitement. By the time they reached the old beaver pond the +mystery of the strange adventure had a firm hold on him. From Beaver +Tooth's colony Baree led him to the creek along which Wakayoo, the +black bear, had fished, and thence straight to the Gray Loon. + +It was early afternoon of a wonderful day. It was so still that the +rippling waters of spring, singing in a thousand rills and streamlets, +filled the forests with a droning music. In the warm sun the crimson +bakneesh glowed like blood. In the open spaces the air was scented with +the perfume of blue flowers. In the trees and bushes mated birds were +building their nests. After the long sleep of winter nature was at work +in all her glory. It was Unekepesim, the Mating Moon, the Home-building +Moon--and Baree was going home. Not to matehood--but to Nepeese. He +knew that she was there now, perhaps at the very edge of the chasm +where he had seen her last. They would be playing together again soon, +as they had played yesterday, and the day before, and the day before +that, and in his joy he barked up into Carvel's face, and urged him to +greater speed. + +Then they came to the clearing, and once more Baree stood like a rock. +Carvel saw the charred ruins of the burned cabin, and a moment later +the two graves under the tall spruce. He began to understand as his +eyes returned slowly to the waiting, listening dog. A great swelling +rose in his throat, and after a moment or two he said softly, and with +an effort, + +"Boy, I guess you're home." + +Baree did not hear. With his head up and his nose tilted to the blue +sky he was sniffing the air. What was it that came to him with the +perfumes of the forests and the green meadow? Why was it that he +trembled now as he stood there? What was there in the air? Carvel asked +himself, and his questing eyes tried to answer the questions. Nothing. +There was death here--death and desertion, that was all. And then, all +at once, there came from Baree a strange cry--almost a human cry--and +he was gone like the wind. + +Carvel had thrown off his pack. He dropped his rifle beside it now, and +followed Baree. He ran swiftly, straight across the open, into the +dwarf balsams, and into a grass-grown path that had once been worn by +the travel of feet. He ran until he was panting for breath, and then +stopped, and listened. He could hear nothing of Baree. But that old +worn trail led on under the forest trees, and he followed it. + +Close to the deep, dark pool in which he and the Willow had disported +so often Baree, too, had stopped. He could hear the rippling of water, +and his eyes shone with a gleaming fire as he searched for Nepeese. He +expected to see her there, her slim white body shimmering in some dark +shadow of overhanging spruce, or gleaming suddenly white as snow in one +of the warm plashes of sunlight. His eyes sought out their old hiding +places; the great split rock on the other side, the shelving banks +under which they used to dive like otter, the spruce boughs that dipped +down to the surface, and in the midst of which the Willow loved to +pretend to hide while he searched the pool for her. And at last the +realization was borne upon him that she was not there, that he had +still farther to go. + +He went on to the tepee. The little open space in which they had built +their hidden wigwam was flooded with sunshine that came through a break +in the forest to the west. The tepee was still there. It did not seem +very much changed to Baree. And rising from the ground in front of the +tepee was what had come to him faintly on the still air--the smoke of a +small fire. Over that fire was bending a person, and it did not strike +Baree as amazing, or at all unexpected, that this person should have +two great shining braids down her back. He whined, and at his whine the +person grew a little rigid, and turned slowly. + +Even then it seemed quite the most natural thing in the world that it +should be Nepeese, and none other. He had lost her yesterday. Today he +had found her. And in answer to his whine there came a sobbing cry +straight out of the heart of the Willow. + + +Carvel found them there a few minutes later, the dog's head hugged +close up against the Willow's breast, and the Willow was crying--crying +like a little child, her face hidden from him on Baree's neck. He did +not interrupt them, but waited; and as he waited something in the +sobbing voice and the stillness of the forest seemed to whisper to him +a bit of the story of the burned cabin and the two graves, and the +meaning of the Call that had come to Baree from out of the south. + + + +CHAPTER 31 + +That night there was a new campfire in the clearing. It was not a small +fire, built with the fear that other eyes might see it, but a fire that +sent its flames high. In the glow of it stood Carvel. And as the fire +had changed from that small smoldering heap over which the Willow had +cooked her dinner, so Carvel, the officially dead outlaw, had changed. +The beard was gone from his face. He had thrown off his caribou-skin +coat. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and there was a wild +flush in his face that was not altogether the work of wind and sun and +storm, and a glow in his eyes that had not been there for five years, +perhaps never before. His eyes were on Nepeese. + +She sat in the firelight, leaning a little toward the blaze, her +wonderful hair warmly reflecting its mellow light. Carvel did not move +while she was in that attitude. He seemed scarcely to breathe. The glow +in his eyes grew deeper--the worship of a man for a woman. Suddenly +Nepeese turned and caught him before he could turn his gaze. There was +nothing to hide in her own eyes. Like her face, they were alight with a +new hope and a new gladness. Carvel sat down beside her on the birch +log, and in his hand he took one of her thick braids and crumpled it as +he talked. At their feet, watching them, lay Baree. + +"Tomorrow or the next day I am going to Lac Bain," he said, a hard and +bitter note back of the gentle worship in his voice. "I will not come +back until I have--killed him." + +The Willow looked straight into the fire. For a time there was a +silence broken only by the crackling of the flames, and in that silence +Carvel's fingers weaved in and out of the silken strands of the +Willow's hair. His thoughts flashed back. What a chance he had missed +that day on Bush McTaggart's trap line--if he had only known! His jaws +set hard as he saw in the red-hot heart of the fire the mental pictures +of the day when the factor from Lac Bain had killed Pierrot. She had +told him the whole story. Her flight. Her plunge to what she had +thought was certain death in the icy torrent of the chasm. Her +miraculous escape from the waters--and how she was discovered, nearly +dead, by Tuboa, the toothless old Cree whom Pierrot out of pity had +allowed to hunt in part of his domain. He felt within himself the +tragedy and the horror of the one terrible hour in which the sun had +gone out of the world for the Willow, and in the flames he could see +faithful old Tuboa as he called on his last strength to bear Nepeese +over the long miles that lay between the chasm and his cabin. He caught +shifting visions of the weeks that followed in that cabin, weeks of +hunger and of intense cold in which the Willow's life hung by a single +thread. And at last, when the snows were deepest, Tuboa had died. +Carvel's fingers clenched in the strands of the Willow's braid. A deep +breath rose out of his chest, and he said, staring deep into the fire, + +"Tomorrow I will go to Lac Bain." + +For a moment Nepeese did not answer. She, too, was looking into the +fire. Then she said: + +"Tuboa meant to kill him when the spring came, and he could travel. +When Tuboa died I knew that it was I who must kill him. So I came, with +Tuboa's gun. It was fresh loaded--yesterday. And--M'sieu Jeem"--she +looked up at him, a triumphant glow in her eyes as she added, almost in +a whisper--"You will not go to Lac Bain. I HAVE SENT A MESSENGER." + +"A messenger?" + +"Yes, Ookimow Jeem--a messenger. Two days ago. I sent word that I had +not died, but was here--waiting for him--and that I would be Iskwao +now, his wife. Oo-oo, he will come, Ookimow Jeem--he will come fast. +And you shall not kill him. Non!" She smiled into his face, and the +throb of Carvel's heart was like a drum. "The gun is loaded," she said +softly. "I will shoot." + +"Two days ago," said Carvel. "And from Lac Bain it is--" + +"He will be here tomorrow," Nepeese answered him. + +"Tomorrow, as the sun goes down, he will enter the clearing. I know. My +blood has been singing it all day. Tomorrow--tomorrow--for he will +travel fast, Ookimow Jeem. Yes, he will come fast." + +Carvel had bent his head. The soft tresses gripped in his fingers were +crushed to his lips. The Willow, looking again into the fire, did not +see. But she FELT--and her soul was beating like the wings of a bird. + +"Ookimow Jeem," she whispered--a breath, a flutter of the lips so soft +that Carvel heard no sound. + +If old Tuboa had been there that night it is possible he would have +read strange warnings in the winds that whispered now and then softly +in the treetops. It was such a night; a night when the Red Gods whisper +low among themselves, a carnival of glory in which even the dipping +shadows and the high stars seemed to quiver with the life of a potent +language. It is barely possible that old Tuboa, with his ninety years +behind him, would have learned something, or that at least he would +have SUSPECTED a thing which Carvel in his youth and confidence did not +see. Tomorrow--he will come tomorrow! The Willow, exultant, had said +that. But to old Tuboa the trees might have whispered, WHY NOT TONIGHT? + +It was midnight when the big moon stood full above the little opening +in the forest. In the tepee the Willow was sleeping. In a balsam shadow +back from the fire slept Baree, and still farther back in the edge of a +spruce thicket slept Carvel. Dog and man were tired. They had traveled +far and fast that day, and they heard no sound. + +But they had traveled neither so far nor so fast as Bush McTaggart. +Between sunrise and midnight he had come forty miles when he strode out +into the clearing where Pierrot's cabin had stood. Twice from the edge +of the forest he had called; and now, when he found no answer, he stood +under the light of the moon and listened. Nepeese was to be +here--waiting. He was tired, but exhaustion could not still the fire +that burned in his blood. It had been blazing all day, and now--so near +its realization and its triumph--the old passion was like a rich wine +in his veins. Somewhere, near where he stood, Nepeese was waiting for +him, WAITING FOR HIM. Once again he called, his heart beating in a +fierce anticipation as he listened. There was no answer. And then for a +thrilling instant his breath stopped. He sniffed the air--and there +came to him faintly the smell of smoke. + +With the first instinct of the forest man he fronted the wind that was +but a faint breath under the starlit skies. He did not call again, but +hastened across the clearing. Nepeese was off there--somewhere--sleeping +beside her fire, and out of him there rose a low cry of exultation. +He came to the edge of the forest; chance directed his steps to the +overgrown trail. He followed it, and the smoke smell came stronger to +his nostrils. + +It was the forest man's instinct, too, that added the element of +caution to his advance. That, and the utter stillness of the night. He +broke no sticks under his feet. He disturbed the brush so quietly that +it made no sound. When he came at last to the little open where +Carvel's fire was still sending a spiral of spruce-scented smoke up +into the air it was with a stealth that failed even to rouse Baree. +Perhaps, deep down in him, there smoldered an old suspicion; perhaps it +was because he wanted to come to her while she was sleeping. The sight +of the tepee made his heart throb faster. It was light as day where it +stood in the moonlight, and he saw hanging outside it a few bits of +woman's apparel. He advanced soft-footed as a fox and stood a moment +later with his hand on the cloth flap at the wigwam door, his head bent +forward to catch the merest breath of sound. He could hear her +breathing. For an instant his face turned so that the moonlight struck +his eyes. They were aflame with a mad fire. Then, still very quietly, +he drew aside the flap at the door. + +It could not have been sound that roused Baree, hidden in the black +balsam shadow a dozen paces away. Perhaps it was scent. His nostrils +twitched first; then he awoke. For a few seconds his eyes glared at the +bent figure in the tepee door. He knew that it was not Carvel. The old +smell--the man-beast's smell, filled his nostrils like a hated poison. +He sprang to his feet and stood with his lips snarling back slowly from +his long fangs. McTaggart had disappeared. From inside the tepee there +came a sound; a sudden movement of bodies, a startled ejaculation of +one awakening from sleep--and then a cry, a low, half-smothered, +frightened cry, and in response to that cry Baree shot out from under +the balsam with a sound in his throat that had in it the note of death. + + +In the edge of the spruce thicket Carvel rolled uneasily. Strange +sounds were rousing him, cries that in his exhaustion came to him as if +in a dream. At last he sat up, and then in sudden horror leaped to his +feet and rushed toward the tepee. Nepeese was in the open, crying the +name she had given him--"OOKIMOW JEEM--OOKIMOW--JEEM--OOKIMOW JEEM--" +She was standing there white and slim, her eyes with the blaze of the +stars in them, and when she saw Carvel she flung out her arms to him, +still crying: + +"Ookimow Jeem--Oo-oo, Ookimow Jeem--" + +In the tepee he heard the rage of a beast, the moaning cries of a man. +He forgot that it was only last night he had come, and with a cry he +swept the Willow to his breast, and the Willow's arms tightened round +his neck as she moaned: + +"Ookimow Jeem--it is the man-beast--in there! It is the man-beast from +Lac Bain--and Baree--" + +Truth flashed upon Carvel, and he caught Nepeese up in his arms and ran +away with her from the sounds that had grown sickening and horrible. In +the spruce thicket he put her feet once more to the ground. Her arms +were still tight around his neck. He felt the wild terror of her body +as it throbbed against him. Her breath was sobbing, and her eyes were +on his face. He drew her closer, and suddenly he crushed his face down +close against hers and felt for an instant the warm thrill of her lips +against his own. And he heard the whisper, soft and trembling. + +"Ooo-oo, OOKIMOW JEEM--" + +When Carvel returned to the fire, alone, his Colt in his hand, Baree +was in front of the tepee waiting for him. + +Carvel picked up a burning brand and entered the wigwam. When he came +out his face was white. He tossed the brand in the fire, and went back +to Nepeese. He had wrapped her in his blankets, and now he knelt down +beside her and put his arms about her. + +"He is dead, Nepeese." + +"Dead, Ookimow Jeem?" + +"Yes. Baree killed him." + +She did not seem to breathe. Gently, with his lips in her hair. Carvel +whispered his plans for their paradise. + +"No one will know, my sweetheart. Tonight I will bury him and burn the +tepee. Tomorrow we will start for Nelson House, where there is a +missioner. And after that--we will come back--and I will build a new +cabin where the old one burned. DO YOU LOVE ME, KA SAKAHET?" + +"OM'--yes--Ookimow Jeem--I love you--" + +Suddenly there came an interruption. Baree at last was giving his cry +of triumph. It rose to the stars; it wailed over the roofs of the +forests and filled the quiet skies--a wolfish howl of exultation, of +achievement, of vengeance fulfilled. Its echoes died slowly away, and +silence came again. A great peace whispered in the soft breath of the +treetops. Out of the north came the mating call of a loon. About +Carvel's shoulders the Willow's arms crept closer. And Carvel, out of +his heart, thanked God. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, BAREE, SON OF KAZAN *** + +This file should be named baree10.txt or baree10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, baree11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, baree10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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