diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/69702-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69702-0.txt | 9969 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 9969 deletions
diff --git a/old/69702-0.txt b/old/69702-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f136072..0000000 --- a/old/69702-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9969 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of A backwoods princess, by Hulbert -Footner - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: A backwoods princess - -Author: Hulbert Footner - -Release Date: January 4, 2023 [eBook #69702] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Al Haines, Jen Haines & the online Distributed Proofreaders - Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BACKWOODS PRINCESS *** - - - - - - - - [Cover Illustration] - - - - - By HULBERT FOOTNER - __________________________ - - A Backwoods Princess - Madame Storey - Antennae - The Shanty Sled - The Under Dogs - The Wild Bird - Officer! - Ramshackle House - The Deaves Affair - The Owl Taxi - The Substitute Millionaire - Thieves’ Wit - New Rivers of the North - __________________________ - - NEW YORK: - GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY - - - - - A BACKWOODS - PRINCESS - By - HULBERT FOOTNER -[Illustration] - NEW YORK - GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY - - - - - COPYRIGHT, _1926_, - BY HULBERT FOOTNER - - A BACKWOODS PRINCESS - - —Q— - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - - - CONTENTS - - CHAPTER PAGE - I Catastrophe................ 9 - II The Burial of Blackburn.... 22 - III The Slaves Without a Master 30 - IV At Fort Good Hope.......... 40 - V Yellow-Head................ 51 - VI The Dinner Party........... 64 - VII The Cloven Hoof............ 79 - VIII Heavenly Music............. 94 - IX An Upset................... 102 - X Contraband................. 118 - XI A Meeting.................. 133 - XII Fur........................ 140 - XIII The Fur Goes Out........... 156 - XIV The Discovery.............. 167 - XV Shadowing.................. 179 - XVI With Conacher.............. 190 - XVII The Meeting................ 201 - XVIII Confusion.................. 207 - XIX Preparing for Danger....... 216 - XX Besieged................... 228 - XXI A Leap for Freedom......... 239 - XXII The Search................. 255 - XXIII Hunger..................... 273 - XXIV Downstream................. 287 - XXV Conclusion................. 305 - - - - - A BACKWOODS PRINCESS - - - - - CHAPTER I - CATASTROPHE - - -Spring was in full tide at Blackburn’s Post, but Laurentia Blackburn and -the four Marys were confined to the Women’s House by rain. There sat the -girlish Princess surrounded by her handmaidens in the midst of a rude -magnificence which best sets off a beautiful woman. Her feet were hidden -in a superb polar bearskin which had come down from the Arctic in trade; -and the chair in which she sat was completely covered by the frosted -pelt of a grizzly, his huge head hanging down over the back. She was a -black-haired Princess with something untamed about her like the -creatures whose pelts decorated her chamber. Around her neck hung an -astonishing necklace of great pearls strung alternately with water-worn -nuggets of gold. Her black dress was worked at the neck and wrists with -an Indian design in brightly dyed porcupine quills. - -The four Marys were Indian girls, small and comely, with glistening -copper faces, and raven hair drawn smoothly back from their brows. They -were clad alike in black cotton dresses, with doeskin moccasins upon -their feet; and a stranger would have been hard put to it to tell them -apart. However, he would presently have perceived that one of them stood -in quite a different relation to her mistress from the others. This was -Mary-Lou who was of the Beaver tribe, whereas the others were only -Slavis. She was the Princess’ foster sister. She could speak English. -All four girls looked at their mistress with fear and respect; but only -Mary-Lou’s face was capable of softening with love. She was reading -aloud from “The Lady of the Lake.” - -The others were Mary-Belle; Mary-Rose and Mary-Ann. The first-named -crouched in front of the small fire which had been lighted to mitigate -the dampness out-of-doors. It was her task to see that it neither went -out, nor became hot enough to scorch the Princess’ face. The other two -sat on a bearskin engaged in embroidering velvet-soft moccasins with -gayly colored silks. None of them could understand a word of what -Mary-Lou was reading from the book; and the gentle, droning voice was -fatally conducive to sleep. The Princess watched them lazily through the -lowered fringe of her black lashes; and, when a head was seen to nod, -she exploded like a fire cracker. - -“Sit up straight! Your head is going down between your shoulders! Before -you are twenty-five you will be the shape of a sack of hay! Your husband -if you ever get one at all will look for another wife!” - -It especially terrified the girls to be scolded in the English they -could not understand. This particular rebuke was addressed to Mary-Belle -but all three of the Slavis cringed, and their dark eyes turned -helplessly this way and that like a frightened deer’s. Mary-Lou looked -apprehensive, too, expecting her turn to come next. - -“Well, go on with the book,” said Loseis crossly. The name Laurentia, -being unmanageable on the tongue of the Indians, they had given her this -one, which means “little wild duck.” - -The tremulous voice resumed. - -“Oh, shut the book!” Loseis cried immediately afterwards. “It is a -foolish book! It tires my ears!” - -“Shall I get another book?” faltered Mary-Lou. - -“What’s the use? We have read them all. They are no better than this -book. All foolish, goody-goody books!” - -All four red girls sat scared and silent. - -Loseis jumped up as if she had strong springs in her legs. “Can’t you -say something, any of you? Are you all struck dumb? You can chatter fast -enough among yourselves when I am not there!” She amplified her remarks -in the Slavi tongue. - -They were struck dumb indeed, then. They looked at each other -helplessly, each one mutely begging her neighbor to speak. - -“Oh, leave me! leave me! you foolish pudding faces!” cried Loseis, -waving her hands. “Or I shall have to beat you!” - -They faded into the kitchen with alacrity. Only Mary-Lou looked back. - -“Mary-Lou, you stay here,” commanded Loseis. “I’ve got to have somebody -to talk to!” - -Mary-Lou leaned shyly against the door frame; pleased at being called -back, yet terrified, too. Loseis paced up and down the room like a slim -black panther, her eyes shooting greenish sparks. - -It was a broad, low room with but two tiny windows, glass being such a -difficult article to bring in seven hundred miles by pack train. There -was a capacious fireplace, cunningly built out of rounded stones from -the creek bed. The log walls had been plastered with clay, hardened now -almost to the consistency of brick; and overhead was spread a canvas -ceiling cloth to keep in the warmth. Walls and ceiling had been washed -with a warm terra cotta color, which made a rich background for the -beautiful furs. Over the carved bedstead in the corner was flung a robe -made of hundreds of raccoons’ tails, the black stripes worked into an -elaborate geometrical design. There were other robes made of otters’ -skins, of lynx paws, of silver foxes. On the walls hung many beautiful -examples of Indian handicraft. - -Glancing at the drooping head of the red girl, Loseis cried: “Mary-Lou, -you’ve got as much spirit as a lump of pemmican! When you sit by the -fire I wonder that you do not melt and run down in grease!” - -Mary-Lou’s head went lower still, and her eyes filled. - -Seeing this, Loseis became angrier still. “There you go! Of course -you’re _good_! That’s what makes me mad! Because I’m not good at all! -I’ve got the temper of a fiend! Well, do you suppose I enjoy losing it? -. . . I know I ought to say I’m sorry now, but it sticks in my throat!” - -“I not want that,” murmured Mary-Lou. “I am lovin’ you anyway.” - -“Well . . . I love you, too,” grumbled Loseis, shamefaced as a boy. “But -I wish you weren’t so humble. It’s bad for me. This is Blackburn’s Post -on Blackburn’s River; all this is Blackburn’s country, and I’m -Blackburn’s daughter. There is nobody to stand up to me. I am too young -to be the mistress. I don’t know anything. . . . That white man laughed -at me as one laughs at a child!” - -Loseis had stopped her pacing. Her head hung down. “I ought to have a -white woman to tell me things,” she said wistfully. “In all my life I -have seen but one woman of my own kind. That was the governess my father -brought in for me. I used to mock her. But now I wish I had her back. -She had nice manners. . . . He laughed at me. . . .” - -She strayed to the second little crooked window, which was at the end of -the room furthest from the fireplace. It overlooked a natural meadow -below, where the tepees of the Slavis were built upon both sides of a -creek which emptied into the main stream just beyond. In front of the -Post the main river described a great convex bend, so that Loseis could -look both up-stream and down. This bend was formed by a bold promontory -of a hill which forced the river to go around its base. The point of -this hill had been sliced off by the water, leaving a precipitous yellow -cut-bank facing the Post. On the summit, startlingly conspicuous against -a group of dark pine trees, was a fence of white palings enclosing a -tiny plot with a cross rising out of it. By day and by night too, that -grave dominated the Post. - -“Ah! if only my mother had lived!” sighed Loseis. - -“Let me read the book again,” suggested Mary-Lou, to divert her mind. - -Loseis shook her head impatiently. She came away from the window. “I am -not in the humor for it. I guess it is too fine for me. . . .” She -resumed her uneven pacing. “Mary-Lou,” she suddenly cried in a voice -full of pain, “when a man and a woman love I am sure they do not think -such elegant thoughts as are in that book. Ah! the heart burns a hole in -your breast! It is impossible to think at all!” - -The red girl’s eyes followed her, full of compassion. - -Observing that look, Loseis said sharply: “You must not think I am in -love with that white man, Conacher. Oh, no! I was just imagining. I am -far from loving him. I hate him!” - -“You are not hating Conacher,” murmured Mary-Lou sadly. “Why say that to -me?” - -Loseis stamped her foot. “I tell you I hate him!” she cried. “That is -enough for you! . . . What right had he to treat me like a child? I am -Blackburn’s daughter. My father is the master of this country. And who -is this white man? A poor man in a canoe with only two servants! Nobody -ever heard of him before. My father was angry at his coming, and I was -angry. We do not want white men coming here to spoil the fur trade!” - -Mary-Lou’s silence suggested that she was far from being convinced. - -“A poor man with no outfit at all!” Loseis repeated louder. “Yet he held -his head as if he was as good as my father! He must be a fool. He talked -to me as if I was anybody at all, and his eyes laughed when I became -angry . . . !” In the midst of her tirade Loseis suddenly broke down. -“Oh, I wish I could forget him!” she cried, with the angry tears -springing to her eyes. - -This sign of weakness gave Mary-Lou the courage to glide to her -mistress, and wreathe her arms about her. “I think Conacher was a good -man,” she whispered. “His eyes were true.” - -These words were very sweet to Loseis; but she would not openly confess -it. However, she gave Mary-Lou a little squeeze, before withdrawing -herself from her arms. “No,” she said; “I shall stand by my father. My -father is the finest man living. Conacher is gone. I shall never see him -again. I shall quickly forget him. - -“It was only because he took me by surprise,” she went on with an -eagerness in which there was something pathetically childlike. “When he -came paddling down our river with the two Beaver Indians I was like one -struck on the head. It was like a white man falling from the skies. No -white man ever came down our river before; and he so young and strong -and full of laughter! He wore no hat; and the sunlight was snared in his -yellow hair. I never saw hair like that. . . .” - -“He like you, too, ver’ moch,” ventured Mary-Lou. “I was there when he -landed. I saw it burn up like fire in his blue eyes.” - -“Yes, I saw that, too,” murmured Loseis, averting her face. “But why did -he change right away?” - -“Because you treat him like poor, dirty Slavi,” said Mary-Lou. “No white -man take that.” - -“That is because I was so confused,” whispered poor Loseis. She suddenly -covered her face with her hands. “Oh, what will he be thinking of me!” -she groaned. - -Mary-Lou’s eyes were all sympathy; but she could think of nothing to -say. - -Loseis drifted back to the window, where she stood with her back to -Mary-Lou. After awhile, without turning around, she said in an offhand, -experimental sort of voice: “I have a good mind to see him again.” - -Mary-Lou merely gasped. - -“Oh, not meaning anything in particular,” Loseis said quickly. “There -never could be anything between us. But just to show him that I am not a -redskin, and then leave him.” - -“How could you see him?” faltered Mary-Lou. - -“He is camped with his outfit alongside the Limestone Rapids, one -hundred miles down,” Loseis went on in that offhand voice. “He has to -break the rocks with a hammer, and study them where they split. It is -what they call a geologist. . . .” Her assumed indifference suddenly -collapsed. “Let us go to see him, Mary-Lou,” she blurted out -breathlessly. “We could make it in a long day’s paddling with the -current; three days to come back if we worked hard. We wouldn’t let him -know we had come to see him. We would say we were hunting. . . .” - -“Oh! . . . Oh! . . .” gasped Mary-Lou. “Girls do not hunt.” - -“He doesn’t know what _I_ do!” cried Loseis. “I _must_ see him! It kills -me to have him thinking that I am a common, ignorant sort of girl! Let -us start at daybreak to-morrow!” - -“Oh, no! no!” whispered Mary-Lou, paralyzed by the very thought. -“Blackburn . . . Blackburn . . . !” - -“He couldn’t say anything until we’d been and come,” said Loseis coolly. -“Anyhow, I’m not afraid of my father. My spirit is as strong as his. He -can’t shout _me_ down!” - -“No! No!” reiterated the red girl. “If you go after him like that, he -think little of you.” - -In her heart Loseis recognized the truth of this, and she fell into a -sullen silence. After awhile she said: “Then I will make him come back -here. I will send a message. . . . Oh, not a letter, you foolish girl!” -she added in response to Mary-Lou’s startled look. - -“What kind of message?” - -“I will make a little raft and send it floating down on the current,” -said Loseis dreamily. “I will set up a little stick on the raft, with a -ribbon tied to it, a piece of my hair. I think that will bring him back -. . .” - -“Maybe it float past his camp in the nighttime,” said Mary-Lou, in her -soft, sad voice. “How you know?” - -“Then I will send down two,” said Loseis. “One in the day and one in the -night. He will see one of them.” - -Mary-Lou was astonished by the cleverness of this idea. - -“And then when he comes back,” said Loseis quite coolly. “I will say -that I did not send it. I will say that it is a custom of the red girls -to make offerings to the Spirit of the River. I think that will make him -feel pretty small. But I shall not laugh at him. Oh, no! I shall be very -polite; polite and proud as Blackburn’s daughter ought to be. And I -shall send him away again.” - -Mary-Lou looked somewhat dubious as to the feasibility of this program; -but held her tongue. - -“I shall send him away again,” repeated Loseis with great firmness, “and -after that I shall think of no man but my father. Before Conacher came -my father was enough for me; and after he has gone my father will be -enough. I am lucky to have such a father; so handsome and brave and -strong-willed. . . .” Loseis suddenly became dreamy again. “But Conacher -was not afraid of my father. That young man was not afraid of my father. -I have never seen that before. . . .” - -Mary-Lou permitted herself to smile tenderly. - -Seeing it, Loseis colored up hotly, and became very firm again. “Never -mind that! There is nobody like my father! He is the finest man in the -world! I shall be a better daughter to him after this. I will do -everything he wants. Ah! my father is like a king . . . !” - -Mary-Lou was suddenly drawn to the end window by some disquieting sounds -from the Slavi village below. She cried out in surprise: “Jimmy -Moosenose is running between the tepees.” - -“What do I care?” said Loseis, annoyed by this interruption. - -“He is running fast,” said Mary-Lou, her voice scaling up. “He speaks to -the people; they throw up their hands; they run after him; they fall -down. There is something the matter!” - -Loseis, alarmed, ran to join her at the window. Together they watched -the old Indian come laboring up the little hill to the grassy bench on -which the buildings of the Post stood. Jimmy Moosenose was a Beaver -Indian, and Blackburn’s right-hand man by reason of being the only man -beside the trader himself, who could speak the English and the Slavi -tongues. There were no white men at Blackburn’s Post. - -When Jimmy passed beyond range of their vision the girls transferred -themselves to the other window. The Indian struck across the grass -straight for their door. A tatterdemalion crowd of natives and dogs -streamed after him. Fear clutched at Loseis’ brave heart; and she became -as pale as paper. An instant later Jimmy Moosenose burst in. The others -dared not follow him through the door. - -“What is the matter?” demanded Loseis haughtily. - -At first the old man could only pant and groan, while his body rocked in -despair. Loseis seized him as if she would shake out the news by main -strength. - -“Speak! Speak!” she cried. - -“Blackburn . . . !” he gasped. “Blackburn . . . !” - -“My father! Hurt! Take me to him!” said Loseis crisply. She made as if -to force her way out through the crowd. - -“They . . . are bringing him,” faltered the old man. - -Loseis fell back against the door frame. “Bringing him?” she echoed -faintly. - -The old man’s chin was on his breast. “Blackburn dead!” he said. - -Loseis’ arms dropped to her sides; her widened eyes were like tragic -black stars. “Dead?” she repeated in quite an ordinary voice. “That is -impossible!” - -Speech came to the old man. “It was the black stallion,” he cried. “I -tell Blackburn, many tam I tell him that horse kill him some day. He -jus’ laugh. He say: ‘I lak master that horse.’ Wah! what good master -when both are dead! . . . It was the high cut-bank at Swallow Bend. -Blackburn, he spur that horse to edge of bank to mak’ him rear and -wheel. Blackburn he is laugh lak a boy. The horse is crazy mad. He put -his head down. He no stop. He jomp over. He jomp clear in the air. Wah! -when I see that, my legs are lak water! When I look over the bank there -is nothing but water. Both are gone. We get canoe. Down river I see -Blackburn’s leg stickin’ out. We pull him out. His neck is broke. . . .” - -The crowd gathered outside the house, broke with a common impulse into a -weird, wordless chant of death, the women’s voices rising piercing -shrill. There was no sound of human grief in it; and the open-mouthed -copper-colored faces expressed nothing either; the bright, flat, black -eyes were as soulless as glass. They pointed their chins up like howling -dogs. - -Loseis clapped her hands to her head. “Stop that ungodly noise!” she -cried. - -Even old Jimmy looked scandalized. “They sing for Blackburn,” he -protested. - -“Stop it! Stop it!” she cried. Forcing her way out, Loseis ran to meet -the cortège that was crawling up the rise towards Blackburn’s house. - - - - - CHAPTER II - THE BURIAL OF BLACKBURN - - -Hector Blackburn’s own room revealed a beautiful austerity fitting to -the chamber of death. It was plastered and ceiled like the room of -Loseis, but the color was a cool stone gray. The few articles of -furniture that it contained had all been constructed in the old style, -carved and polished by the owner himself, who had a taste that way. The -lustrous pelts were more sparingly used here. - -The narrow bedstead with its four slender columns had been dragged into -the center of the room. Upon it lay the body of Hector Blackburn clad in -decent black clothes; his big hands crossed on his breast. Beside the -bed knelt Loseis, her rapt gaze fixed on her father’s face. Six feet two -in height, and forty-eight inches around the chest, he made a splendid -figure of death. There was not a white thread to be seen in his -spreading black beard, nor in the plentiful wavy hair of his crown. To -be sure, the high red color was strangely gone out of his transparent -cheeks; and the passionate features were composed into a look of haughty -peace. For sheer manhood, truly a father to be proud of. - -Loseis thought of the feats of strength and daring that had made his -name famous throughout the Northwest Territories; how he had strangled a -full grown black bear with his naked hands; how he had leaped from his -canoe at the very brink of the American Falls and had brought safely -ashore an Indian who was clinging to a rock. He had been even more -remarkable for his strength of will. The last of the great free traders, -he had defied the power of the mighty Company, and had prospered -exceedingly. He held his vast territory against all comers, by the power -of his personality alone. Thinking of these things Loseis’ mind was -confused. There lay his still body before her eyes, but what had become -of the wild energy which had lately animated it? Surely, surely that -could not be blown out like a candle flame. - -Dragging herself to her feet, she went into the adjoining kitchen. She -had had no opportunity to change her dress, but in an impulse of grief -had torn off the gay embroidery; and now she was all in black like the -corpse. In the kitchen Mary-Lou sat huddled on the floor, with her arms -wrapped around her head. Jimmy Moosenose stood beside the open door, -looking out, a withered, bent little figure, but still capable of -activity. As Loseis entered he said in an expressionless voice: - -“They have gone.” - -“Who?” asked Loseis sharply. - -“The people; all the people.” - -She ran to the door. It was true; every tepee was gone from the meadow -below. Except for certain litter abandoned in their haste there was no -sign that a village had ever stood there. The Slavis had taken flight -and vanished like a cloud of insects. - -“Where have they gone?” demanded Loseis in astonishment. Though she had -been born amongst them she did not understand this inscrutable, timid, -savage race. It was impossible for any white man to know what went on -inside their cramped skulls, Blackburn used to say. He had ruled them -without making any attempt at understanding. - -“Gone up river,” muttered Jimmy. - -“For why?” - -“They moch scare’.” - -“But they are familiar with death. Death comes to all alike.” - -Jimmy Moosenose cast an uneasy look towards the room where the dead man -lay. He was near enough akin to the Slavis to share in their fears. -“They think ver’ powerful strong spirit live in Blackburn’s body,” he -muttered. “Now that spirit free they not know what it do to them.” - -“Oh, what nonsense!” cried Loseis helplessly. - -“What we do now?” asked Jimmy fearfully. - -Loseis looked him over. “Are you man enough to ride all night?” she -asked brusquely. “The trail is good.” - -“What trail?” asked Jimmy with a terrified face. - -“To Fort Good Hope to fetch the parson,” said Loseis in surprise. - -“It is ondred-feefty mile,” faltered Jimmy. - -“What of it? Two days to go and two to come. You can drive three spare -horses before you. I don’t care if you kill them all.” - -“I not man enough for that,” said Jimmy shaking his head. - -“Well six days to go and come then. I’d go myself, but I know you two -wouldn’t stay here alone.” - -Jimmy’s and Mary-Lou’s frightened faces testified eloquently to that. -Jimmy shook his head. “No good! No good!” he said. “It is summer time -now. He no keep six days.” - -Loseis groaned aloud. In her desperate helplessness she looked like a -little girl. “How can I bury him without a parson!” she cried. - -“You have the parson’s little book,” said Jimmy. “You can say the -prayers from that. It is just as good.” - -Loseis turned her back on them, that they might not see her childish, -twisted face. “Very well,” she said in a strangled voice; “I will be the -parson.” - -“What I do now?” asked Jimmy Moosenose. - -“First you must make a coffin.” - -“There is no planks.” - -“Oh, tear down the counter in the store!” cried Loseis with a burst of -irritation. “Must I think of everything?” - -“You tell me how big?” asked Jimmy, with another glance of sullen terror -towards the inner room. - -“Yes, I will measure,” said Loseis. “And the coffin must be covered all -over with good black cloth from the store. Mary-Lou will put it on with -tacks. And lined with white cloth. While you are making it I will go -across the river, and dig the grave. We will bury him to-morrow.” - -“That is well,” said Jimmy with a look of relief. “Then the people come -back.” - -“Ah, the people!” cried Loseis with a flash of angry scorn. “They are -well-named Slaves!” - -At the end of May in the latitude of Blackburn’s Post it does not become -dark until nearly ten; and it was fully that hour before Loseis, having -completed her task, returned dog-weary, across the river. During the -balance of the night she sat wide-eyed and dry-eyed beside her dead, her -hands in her lap, planning in her childlike and passionate way how best -to conduct everything next day with dignity and honor. - -At sun-up Jimmy Moosenose was despatched to the river shore to construct -a raft, the light bark canoes that they possessed not being sufficient -to ferry the coffin across. No flowers were available so early in the -season, and Mary-Lou was set to work to twist a handsome wreath of the -crisp green leaves of the high-bush cranberry. Neither Jimmy nor -Mary-Lou could be induced to enter Blackburn’s room, so Loseis herself -dragged the completed coffin in beside the bed; and she unaided, managed -somehow to lift the body into it. In life Hector Blackburn had weighed -more than two hundred pounds. It was Loseis, too, who nailed the lid on -the coffin with an aim no better than any other woman’s. Those crookedly -driven nails distressed her sorely. - -When Jimmy came up from the river, they slipped short lengths of pole -under the coffin, and rolled it to the door. Outside the house, since -there was nothing in the nature of wheels at Blackburn’s Post, they -hitched an old horse directly to the coffin, and dragged it at a slow -pace over the grass down hill to the river. Jimmy led the horse, while -Loseis and Mary-Lou walked behind, steadying the coffin with ropes -affixed to each side. During this part of the journey Loseis was all -child. Every time the coffin [word missing in original] over an -unevenness her heart was in her mouth. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried -involuntarily; and her agonized eyes seemed to add: “My darling! did -that hurt you?” - -At the river edge they worked the coffin onto the raft with rollers and -short lengths of plank; and Loseis draped the Post flag upon it, and -placed the green wreath. Jimmy and Mary-Lou propelled the raft across -with long poles, while the slender, black-clad figure of Loseis stood -looking down at the coffin like a symbolical figure of Bereavement. In -her grief-drowned eyes there was a look of piteous pride, too; for the -black coffin with its flag and green wreath looked beautiful. - -The smooth brown river moved down in silky eddies; the freshly budded -greens of poplar and willow made the shores lovely, backed by the grave, -unchanging tones of the evergreens. Behind them the low, solid buildings -of the Post crouched on the bench above the river with a sort of human -dignity; before them rose the steep grassy promontory with the waiting -grave on top. Over their heads smiled the Northern summer sky of an -enchanting tenderness of blue that is not revealed to lower latitudes. - -Landing upon the further shore they caught another horse—there was no -lack of horses at Blackburn’s Post. In order to drag the coffin up the -rough, steep hill it was necessary to construct a travois of poles to -lift the front end clear of the ground. The horse was fastened between -the poles as between shafts. At the top of the hill Loseis had removed -the palings; and the new grave yawned beside the old one. She had dug -the shallow hole with sloping ends, that the horse might walk right -through, leaving his burden in its place. - -The animal was then liberated; and Loseis stood on one side, prayer-book -in hand, with Jimmy Moosenose and Mary-Lou facing her on the other. It -was a meagerly attended burial for the great lord of that country. -Loseis read the noble prayers in a grave voice charged with emotion. The -sound of it caused the tears to run silently down the smooth cheeks of -Mary-Lou; but Jimmy merely looked uncomfortable. The feelings of white -people were strange to him. He had given his master a doglike devotion -while he lived; but he was dead now, and that was an end to it. - -“Man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live and is full of -misery,” read the brave young voice. “He cometh up and is cut down like -a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one -stay. In the midst of life we are in death; of whom may we seek for -succour but of Thee, O Lord, who for our sins art justly displeased?” - -When she came to the end of the service, Loseis dropped the book and -involuntarily broke into an extempore prayer, standing with straight -back and lifted face like an Indian, her arms at her sides. Her words -were hardly couched in the same humble strain as those of the book; but -the passionate sincerity of the speaker redeemed them from irreverence. - -“O God, this is my father. He was a strong man, God, and you must make -allowances for him. You gave him a proud heart and a terrible anger when -he was crossed, and it would not be fair to judge him like common men. -He could have done anything he wanted here, because he was the master, -but he was always square. Every season he paid the Indians half as much -again for their fur as the Company would pay, and that is why the -Company traders spoke evil of him. He was hard and stern to the Indians, -but that was the only thing they could understand. How else could you -deal with a tribe of slaves? Be merciful to my father, O God! for he -would never ask mercy for himself; and let him see my mother again, for -that was all he wanted. Amen.” - -Jimmy Moosenose picked up the spade with a businesslike air, and threw a -clod on the coffin. At the dreadful sound that it gave forth, a sharp -cry broke from Loseis. She wrapped her arms about her head and fled away -down the hill. - - - - - CHAPTER III - THE SLAVES WITHOUT A MASTER - - -When the three mourners landed again on their own side of the river, -Jimmy and Mary-Lou looked at Loseis at a loss. What to do next? - -Rousing herself, Loseis said wearily: “Jimmy, you must fix up the -counter in the store. Fix it with split poles until we can make some -plank. Mary-Lou, fetch a hatchet and come with me.” - -On the river shore some hundred yards downstream, hidden by a clump of -willows in case Jimmy Moosenose should be inclined to spy on what they -were doing, Mary-Lou under Loseis’ instructions built a tiny raft out of -dead branches. To the raft Loseis fixed a little pole to the top of -which she tied a streamer of black. She launched the raft on the -current, and with big, childish eyes watched it float around the bend. - -“I am not sending for Conacher to come to me,” she said haughtily to -Mary-Lou. “But when a white man dies it is customary to let men -know. . . . To-night I will push off another one. One or the other he -will see.” - -Within an hour the Slavis returned as mysteriously as they had departed. -They must have had an outlook posted to report upon the burial of -Blackburn. To Loseis their actions seemed perfectly senseless; for Jimmy -had said it was the spirit of Blackburn that they dreaded, yet as soon -as his body was hidden underground their fears departed. They set up the -tepees in their former places, and went about their usual occupations as -if nothing had happened. Loseis’ breast burned with anger; and she -wanted to go down and give them a piece of her mind. However, Jimmy -dissuaded her. - -“No good! No good!” he said. “It is over now. They not understand white -man’s ways.” - -There was a sharp ring of anxiety in his voice that caused Loseis to -stare in haughty surprise. She thoroughly despised the Slavis. However, -she said nothing. She and Mary-Lou went off to their house to sleep. - -Down on the flat it was the women who were erecting the tepee poles, and -drawing the covers over them. They no longer used skins for this -purpose, Blackburn having persuaded them of the superior advantages of -the canvas that he sold. In the same way the whole tribe had learned to -wear white men’s clothes out of the store. While the women worked, the -men sat in groups smoking and talking in that queer clicking tongue that -few white men have ever mastered. Their talk was light and punctuated -with laughter; but it was clear from their uneasy glances towards the -white man’s buildings that they were not speaking their hearts. As a -matter of fact the Indians are quite as adept in insincere small talk as -their white brethren. - -From time immemorial the Slavis have been known as a small, weak people; -and this particular branch, cut off from their fellows on the distant -shores of Blackburn’s River had further degenerated as a result of too -close inter-marriage. They were a weedy lot, and like all weak peoples, -shifty-eyed. As is always the case, the men showed up worse; hollow -chests and spindle shanks were the rule; the whole tribe could not -produce one stalwart, handsome youth. But they were not -poverty-stricken. They all wore good clothes, and lived in new, -weather-proof tepees. They hunted the best fur country in all the North, -and for twenty years Blackburn had jealously guarded it for them. - -From where they sat Jimmy Moosenose could be seen splitting poles in -front of the store, and carrying them in. Without appearing to, the men -were all watching him. The groups of talkers fell silent. They could not -meet each other’s eyes. A curious look of dread flickered in their -faces; that which had directed the whole course of their lives for so -many years had been suddenly removed, and they were all at a stand. - -By twos and threes they began to drift up the grassy rise, their vacant -eyes drifting this way and that. There was something peculiarly ominous -about their purposelessness, their lack of direction. They squatted down -on their hunkers, making a rough semi-circle about Jimmy. They no longer -spoke among themselves, nor did any volunteer to help Jimmy; they simply -squatted and stared at him with their unwinking animal-like eyes. Jimmy -affected to take no notice of them; but his forehead became moist with a -sudden fear. He was reminded that he was of alien blood to these people, -and that they were thirty to his one. And there were five times that -number more in their summer camp at Blackburn’s Lake. - -At length the silence, the unwinking stares became more than Jimmy could -bear. “Where is Etzooah?” he asked, affecting indifference. - -Etzooah was one whom Jimmy suspected of being a trouble maker. He was a -bigger man than the others; and was said to have Cree blood. More than -once in the past his sharpness had displeased Blackburn, who, however, -tolerated him because he was the best hunter in the tribe. - -“Etzooah gone to the lake to see a girl,” said one. - -From the way the others grinned it was clear this was a lie. Jimmy was -much troubled that they grinned openly in his face. Had Blackburn been -in the store behind him they would never have done that. Jimmy glanced -desirously in the direction of the Women’s House, and his watchers -marked that glance. - -One said, affecting the stupid look of a crafty schoolboy: “Are you the -trader now?” - -“No,” said Jimmy, “Loseis is the mistress here.” - -The ugly little men bared their blackened teeth; and a squall of -laughter rocked them on their heels. There was no true merriment in the -sound. It ended as suddenly as it began. It struck an icy fear into -Jimmy’s breast. He was all alone; all alone. - -“Go back to your lodges!” he said, drawing himself up, and imitating the -voice of Blackburn. - -They neither moved nor spoke; but squatted there staring at him. - -He dared not repeat the order. Shouldering his poles, he started into -the store. Of one accord the Slavis rose, and came pushing through the -door after him. Flinging down his poles, Jimmy spread out his arms to -bar their way. - -“Get out!” he cried. “There is no trading to-day.” - -Keeping their eyes fixed on his, they continued to push in. They walked -right into Jimmy, forcing him back. What was he to do? His instinct told -him that the moment he showed fight it would be all up with him. He -picked up one of his poles and started to nail it into place, grumbling -to himself, and making believe to ignore them. - -They stood about the store watching him with affected sleepiness through -half-closed eyes. One of them, keeping his eyes fixed on Jimmy, thrust a -hand into an opened box and pulled it out full of dried apricots. All -the instincts of thirty years of trading were outraged by this act, and -Jimmy forgot his fears. - -“Put it back!” he cried, brandishing the hammer. “Get out, you thieves! -You half-men, you dirty slaves!” - -None moved, nor changed a muscle of his face. The man with the apricots -held them in his hand, waiting to see what Jimmy would _do_. What he -said was nothing to them. He might as well have been storming at the -wind. Finally, half beside himself with rage, Jimmy ran to the back of -the store where the guns were kept. - -Instantly the little men sprang into noiseless activity. One picked up a -short length of pole, and darting after Jimmy on soft pads like a lynx, -hit him over the head with it, before he could turn. In a flash they -were all about him, their dark faces fixed in hideous grins, each trying -to strike. They used tinned goods for weapons; one secured the hammer; -one snatched up a heavy steel trap which he held poised aloft waiting -for Jimmy’s head to appear. The whole mass swayed from this side to -that, toppling over the goods on either side. Jimmy went down, and they -had to bend over to hit him. They were as voiceless as squirming -insects. There was no sound but the sickening blows that fell. - -When they finally drew back a shapeless huddle was revealed, lying in -blood. Panic overtook the feather-headed Slavis, and they ran out of the -store to look anxiously in the direction of the Women’s House. Nothing -stirred there. They returned inside the store. They did not consult -together, but appeared to act as instinctively as animals. There was a -window at the back of the store. They pried it out frame and all, and -hastily shoved the broken body through the hole, careless of where it -fell. The instant it was out of sight they forgot about it, nor did they -trouble to put the window back. - -Alone in the store, the Slavis betrayed a curious timidity. It seemed as -if the ghost of Hector Blackburn restrained them still. They overran the -place like ants, peering into everything, stroking the objects that they -desired, but forbearing as yet to pick them up. At intervals panic -seized them, and they swept in a cloud to the door to look over towards -the Women’s House. Some of the Slavi women and children had been -attracted from the tepees. These never ventured through the doors, but -hung about outside, expressing no concern one way or the other; merely -waiting to see how it all turned out. - -At length one man ventured to eat of the dried apricots; another split -the top of a can of peaches with a hatchet; and instantly looting became -general. Boxes were smashed, and bags ripped open, pouring their -precious contents on the floor. Food in the North is not to be lightly -wasted. Articles of clothing were the chief prizes; the only way to -secure them was to put them on, one on top of another. Sometimes two -pulled at the same garment, snarling at each other. But they never -fought singly. They were dangerous only in the mass. - -In the middle of this scene suddenly appeared Loseis, her black eyes -blazing. A terrified Mary-Lou cringed at her heels. Every Indian in the -store, dropping what he was about, instantly became as immobile and -watchful as a surprised animal. Loseis glared about her speechless. She -was as much aghast as she was angry, for such a scene was beyond -anything she had ever conceived of. But she was not afraid. She turned -to the door. - -“Jimmy! Jimmy!” she called peremptorily. - -She waited in vain for an answer. - -“Where is Jimmy?” she demanded haughtily. - -None answered her. - -She dispatched Mary-Lou in search of him. - -The situation was beyond words. Loseis’ eyes darted silent lightnings at -one man after another. The scattered Slavis slyly edged together. No -single pair of eyes could meet hers, but she could not cow more than one -man at a time; and the bright, inhuman eyes of the others remained fixed -on her face. - -Finally with a magnificent gesture Loseis pointed to the door. “Get -out!” she said. - -No man moved. - -That was a terrible moment for the high-spirited girl. A look of -astonishment appeared in her eyes. Suddenly her face crimsoned with -rage; she flew at the nearest man, and started pommeling him with her -little fists. The man ducked under her blows, and sought to evade her. -He pulled another man in front of him; whereupon Loseis transferred her -blows to this one. All the others looked on with faces like masks. And -so it went. The mysterious prestige of the white blood sanctified her, -and they dared not strike back; they resisted her with that senseless -animal obstinacy that drives masters mad with rage. They were satisfied -to let her pommel them, knowing that she must tire of it in the end. And -what then? It was like fighting a cloud of flies. They would not be -driven out of the store. When one was driven out, as soon as Loseis went -for another, he returned. - -She drew off at last. In that moment she knew the unspeakable agony of -an imperious will that finds itself balked. She nearly died of her rage. -But she faced it out. She admitted to herself that she was balked. The -last two days had matured her. Fortunately for her, under all the -passion and wilfulness of her nature there was a solid substratum of -commonsense. Commonsense warned her that it would be fatal to make the -least move in the direction of the guns at the back of the store. She -could not force the senseless savages to obey her; well, commonsense -suggested that she use guile. Loseis had an inspiration. - -Just inside the door of the store, behind a rough screen of wood, -Blackburn had a little desk with a cover that lifted up. Loseis went to -it, and took out a sizable book stoutly bound in gray linen and red -leather. Every Slavi knew that book. It was Blackburn’s ledger. Loseis -appeared around the screen carrying the ledger; and up-ending a box -beside the door, sat herself upon it with the book spread on her knees. - -“You wish to trade?” she said to the men at large. “It is good. Take -what you want. I will put it down in the book.” - -The eyes of the Slavis bolted; and they moved uneasily. The spell of -their strangeness was broken. To their simple minds there was magic in -those scratches by which white men’s thoughts might be conveyed to any -distance that they chose; or stored up in a book to be brought out years -afterwards unchanged. In particular, Blackburn’s ledger had always been -held in superstitious awe as the source of his “strong medicine.” - -Loseis looked at the man nearest her, and thumbed the pages of the book. -“Mahtsonza,” she said; “a Stetson hat; two skins. A Mackinaw coat; five -skins. Wah! you have two coats? Ten skins!” - -Mahtsonza began to slide out of his stolen clothing. - -Loseis turned to the next. “Ahchoogah; a bag of rice; one skin. The bag -is spoiled, and you must pay for all. You can carry it away.” - -There was a sudden rush for the door; but Loseis, springing up, barred -the way. “I have all your names,” she cried. “Whatever is taken or -spoiled will be written down, and all must pay a share!” - -Then she stood aside and let them slink by, a ridiculously crestfallen -crowd of little bravoes. - -For the moment Loseis had won—but at no small cost. The instant they -were out, the reaction set in. All the strength seemed to run out of her -limbs; she sank down on the box covering her face with her hands. The -fact of her appalling solitariness was made clear to her. She dared not -look into the future. - -Presently Mary-Lou came back. “No can find Jimmy,” she said. “Nobody see -him.” - -Proceeding to the rear of the store to survey the damage, the two girls -came upon the wet, dark stain spreading over the floor. The instant she -saw it, Loseis knew what had happened and went very still; but Mary-Lou -cried out: “Look, the window is out!” and must needs stick her head -through the hole to look. - -A piercing shriek broke from the red girl; she fell back half witless -with terror into Loseis’s arms. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - AT FORT GOOD HOPE - - -At Fort Good Hope on the big river, the free trader Andrew Gault and his -financial backer David Ogilvie, stood by the flagpole concluding their -business, while the steam-launch _Courier_ waited in the stream below to -carry Ogilvie down river. - -Outside of the towns, Fort Good Hope was the most enterprising and -progressive Post in that country. The original log buildings were now -used as bunk-houses for the half-breed employees; while on one side rose -the magnificent dwelling of the trader, built of clapboards in the -“outside” style and having fancy porches with turned pillars; and on the -other side the equally modern store with plate glass windows imported at -God knows what expense and trouble; and a huge sign. This sign was the -occasion of considerable humor throughout the country, since there was -nobody who required to be told whose store it was. - -This was by no means all of the improvements at Fort Good Hope. Gault -had built and now operated a steamboat on the river, which connected -with a line of wagons across the ninety-mile portage to Caribou Lake, -and so kept him in touch with the world. By means of the steamboat he -had imported an electric light plant, a sawmill and a steam process mill -for grinding and bolting flour. The land along the river was rich, and -Gault had established farmers there. They were only frozen out about one -year in three; and that was their loss, not Gault’s. His flour, raised -and milled on the spot, he was able to sell to the Indians at an -enormous profit. - -In spite of all this, when Gault made up his accounts with Ogilvie, the -financier pursed up his mouth in a grudging fashion, and Gault who was a -bitter, proud man, ground his teeth with rage. - -“Your improvements are fine, fine,” said Ogilvie dryly; “the Post looks -almost like a village on the railway. But my dear man, all this only -returns a beggarly ten or fifteen per cent on the investment. I need not -point out to you that our company is accustomed to receive two profits -on every transaction. In other words we do not want the cash that you -remit to us; we want fur. And I’m sorry to see that your consignments of -fur have been growing less every year.” - -The trader was silent out of anger; and Ogilvie went on: “The history of -all the old posts is the same. With the advance of civilization the fur -is always retreating. With your steamboats and your sawmills you are -hastening the process, my dear Gault. At the other old posts as the fur -recedes they reach after it with sub-posts and trading stations. Why -don’t you do something of the sort? You are in a better strategic -position than any of them, because off to the northwest here you have a -vast land that is still written down unexplored on the maps. Why don’t -you get that fur?” - -“As you know,” muttered Gault, “on the northwest I am blanketed by -Hector Blackburn.” - -Ogilvie shrugged. “Why remain blanketed?” he asked. - -“What do you propose?” asked Gault bitterly. - -“Oh, the specific measures must be left to you,” said Ogilvie hastily. -“You are the man on the ground. But of course our company will back you -up in anything you undertake. The old rough stuff has gone out of -fashion, but the principle is the same. To put it bluntly, Gault: buy -him out or drive him out.” - -“The entire resources of our company would not buy him out,” said Gault. -“The man is drunk with pride at having the name of the last free -trader.” - -“Well then?” said Ogilvie meaningly. - -“As to driving him out, I mean to do that; but I must await my -opportunity. He’s in an almost impregnable position.” - -“Why did you let him get in such a position?” murmured Ogilvie. “You -were on the ground first.” - -“He had all the luck,” said Gault bitterly. - -“Why is his position so impregnable?” - -“Well, for one thing he has a tribe of Indians completely under his -thumb. Those are the Slavis, the most ignorant and primitive race of -them all. Once they covered this whole country, but have gradually been -pushed back by the Crees and other tribes. They have some other name, -but I don’t know what it is. All the other Indians call them Slavis. -Well, Blackburn has got this people penned up in his own country, where -no whites can communicate with them. He deliberately trades on their -ignorance and superstition. He has persuaded them that I am a devil and -that black magic is worked at this Post, and no power under Heaven can -persuade them to come within fifty miles of me.” - -Ogilvie laughed. “Not bad,” he said. “Why don’t you outbid him for fur? -That might work a miracle.” - -“I have tried it,” said Gault grimly. “He is willing to go higher than -the company is willing to let me go.” - -“But surely a year or two of that, with his ruinously expensive -transport would break him,” said Ogilvie. - -“Blackburn is as rich as Crœsus,” said Gault bitterly; “and he’d risk -every cent of it to beat me. What is more, he is entirely independent of -transport. When they run out of food over there, he sends his cheaper -furs to me for flour, and I have to take them, because I need the fur. -Blackburn trades horses for fur. He has in the triangle between his -river, the foothills and the Mud River, a vast natural range for horses. -God knows how many thousands of head he has. The fame of them has spread -all over the country. He can afford to sell them cheap since they cost -him nothing. The Sikannis Indians bring their fur all the way from -British Columbia to trade for horses. The Indians from Wabiscaw and -eastward cross the river here right under my nose, carrying their fur to -Blackburn for horses.” - -“You say you are awaiting your opportunity,” said Ogilvie; “how will you -know when that comes?” - -“I have a spy at Blackburn’s Post,” said Gault. “It wasn’t easy to find -him, because nobody can speak their damned language but Blackburn. This -man, Etzooah, is the son of a Cree father and a Slavi mother, and is -able to mix with the Slavis as one of themselves.” - -“What good do you expect that to do you?” - -“Etzooah talks to the Slavis in my interest. However, that is not what I -am counting on.” Gault smiled disagreeably. “Blackburn is a headstrong, -passionate man, and a hard drinker. He treats the Slavis like dogs. He -believes there is nobody to call him to account. Some day he will go too -far. Then I’ll have the law on him. He runs his whole show -single-handed. Won’t tolerate a white man near him. Consequently if he -were removed, even for a while, the whole thing would fall into -confusion. That will be my chance.” - -“I have heard there was a daughter,” said Ogilvie idly. - -“Yes, a black-haired she-devil in her father’s own image!” said Gault. - -“Well, good-by until next Spring,” said Ogilvie. “I wish you every -success. If Blackburn were out of the way this would be the greatest -Post in the country.” He looked around him with assumed regret. “You -have made so many improvements it would be a pity if we had to close you -out. But of course we must have the fur. . . . Good-by. . . . Good-by. -. . .” - -Gault watched him go with rage and bitterness making his heart black. -Damn all financiers and officials who fattened on the labors of better -men than themselves! Gault had not told him the full history of his -relations with Hector Blackburn; but no doubt Ogilvie knew anyhow, for -it was common gossip throughout the fur country; how Gault and Blackburn -had come to grips a dozen times during the past twenty years, and Gault -had been invariably and humiliatingly worsted. He too, was a ruthless -and determined man, and when he thought over these things it was almost -more than he could bear. - - * * * * * - -Andrew Gault was a bachelor, living alone in his monstrosity of a yellow -clapboarded house. A handsome, lean, grizzled man in his early fifties, -with a cold and polished manner that one would hardly expect to find in -a fur-trader. It was a point of pride with Gault never to allow himself -to go slack. For all he was seven hundred miles from town, his house was -well-furnished, his servants well-trained. These last were of the Cree -tribe, a handsomer and more intelligent race than the miserable Slavis, -but not so manageable. - -Some days after the visit of Ogilvie, Gault, having finished his -breakfast, remained sitting at the table, gloomily staring at the cloth, -and abstractedly crumbling pellets of bread. His mind was forever -traveling the same weary round without finding a way out. Thoughts of -Hector Blackburn poisoned his very being. How to get back at him; how to -ruin him. Ah! his enemy seemed to be intrenched at every point! -Blackburn could laugh at him. Stronger measures must be taken now, for -certain ruin stared Gault in the face. Somehow, Blackburn’s own weapons -must be turned against him. Could not the ignorant Slavis be incited to -rebellion? They must have their own medicine men or conjurers, and these -fellows could generally be bought. He, Gault, must get hold of Etzooah -before the next fur season set in. - -Toma, Gault’s old house-servant entered the room. He was excited. “Wah! -Man come from Blackburn’s Post,” he announced. - -To Gault this had the effect of a miracle. He sprang to his feet. “What -man?” he cried. - -“Name Etzooah,” said Toma. - -“Bring him to me! Bring him to me!” shouted Gault. “Let none else come -in until I call.” - -Toma shuffled out of the room, and Gault had time to compose himself. It -was very bad policy of course, for a white man to betray his emotion -before a native. The trader reseated himself. - -Etzooah came sidling around the door, awe-struck at finding himself -admitted to the great house, and exhibiting a witless grin. He was a -small man with a bullet head set between muscular shoulders. His thick -coarse hair was cut straight across his forehead in the Slavi style, and -straight around at his neck behind. He wore good store clothes with a -gay worsted sash about his middle. For business reasons the spy affected -an air of good-natured, giggling imbecility, which would deceive nobody -who knew the Indians. His little eyes were as quick and sharp as a -weasel’s. - -“What news?” asked Gault curtly. - -“Blackburn is dead,” said Etzooah, laughing heartily and silently. - -Gault caught his breath. For an instant he lost all self-control. The -upper part of his body sprawled across the table; his eyes seemed to -start from his head. “Dead?” he gasped; “dead? . . . You are sure?” - -“I see him die,” said Etzooah, with silent pantomime of delight. “Him -black horse jomp over high cut-bank. Him neck broke. Him drown -afterwards. When him pull out of river him head loose lak a berry on the -bush.” Etzooah illustrated. - -A shock of joy does not kill. Gault stood up straight and arrogant; a -warm color came into his pale cheeks, and his eyes shone like a boy’s -again. “By God! this news is good to my ears!” he cried. “You shall -never go hungry, Etzooah. . . . When did it happen?” - -“Two days,” said Etzooah. “At noon spell. Right away I tak’ two horses; -ride all night. Only stop for one little sleep yesterday.” - -“Did anybody know you came?” - -“No. I sneak away.” - -“Hm!” said Gault stroking his chin. “Then they’ll know that you were my -man all the time. . . . Oh, what does it matter now! Everything is in my -hands. . . . Had Blackburn sent his fur out yet?” - -“No. Roundin’ up pack horses when him kill.” - -“Then that is _my_ fur now! . . . What will the Slavis do without their -master?” - -Etzooah shrugged expressively. “No can tell. Slavis lak crazy children. -Not know what they do. Maybe they run wild now; kill the girl and steal -the store goods. No can tell.” - -Gault’s face darkened. “By God!” he cried. “If the Slavis get out of -hand, it would bring in the police. I don’t want the police nosing into -this. I will ride back to-day. Toma! Toma! . . . You, Etzooah, eat in my -kitchen, and take a sleep. . . . Toma, you——————!” - -The old man came shuffling in. - -“Fetch Moale from the store. Bestir yourself! Afterwards get out my -riding-suit, my saddlebags, my traveling blankets, and all things -necessary for a journey!” - -Joe Moale was the “bookkeeper” at Fort Good Hope, otherwise Gault’s -second in command. Technically a white man, a flavor of the red race -clung about him; he was probably a quarter breed. He was reputed to be a -relative of Gault’s. An educated man, as able and intelligent as any -white man in the company’s employ, he was as inscrutable as an Indian. -He was a well-built man of middle height, not uncomely in his wooden -fashion. It was impossible to guess his exact age, but he was much -younger than the trader. He served Gault with absolute and unquestioning -faithfulness, but there was no affection in the glance that he bent on -his master. With true redskin patience he was waiting for Gault to die. - -“Blackburn is dead!” cried Gault, striding up and down in his dark -exultation. - -“The news has already spread about the Post,” said Moale, unmoved. - -“Can we both get away together?” asked Gault. - -“Why not? The fur is all in. At this season Claggett can keep the -store.” - -“Then I want you to come with me. We must start within an hour. Round up -the four smartest lads you can put your hands on, and a dozen of our -best horses. We must make a good appearance, you understand. Six of us -will be more than enough to handle the beggarly Slavis. . . . Blackburn -is dead!” he cried for the mere pleasure of repeating the words. “And -his business is ours!” - -“What will you do about the girl?” asked Moale stolidly. - -“Oh, a miss of eighteen,” said Gault contemptuously. “She will give me -no trouble . . . I’ll be her guardian, her trustee,” he added with a -satanic smile. - -“She’ll be rich,” said Moale. - -“Not when I’m through with her.” - -“I’m not referring to the Post, nor the horses,” said Moale. “Blackburn -sends out near a hundred thousand dollars worth of fur per annum. He -don’t import but a fraction of that in goods. The balance must be salted -down somewhere.” - -Gault stopped and stared. A new light of cupidity broke in his face. -“Why, sure!” he said, a little bemused with the glittering picture that -rose before his mind’s eye. “My mind must be wandering! Shouldn’t wonder -if it amounted to a million! . . .” He went on muttering to himself: “It -would be the best way anyhow. Nobody could question what I did then. And -I shouldn’t be doing it for the company neither but for myself!” His -voice suddenly rang out. “By God! I’ll marry the girl!” - -Going to the sideboard, he examined his face anxiously in the mirror. -“Joe,” he said, “if you didn’t know my age, how old would you call me?” - -Whatever Moale’s thoughts might have been, he concealed them. “About -thirty-eight,” he said. - -“Hardly that,” said Gault confidently. “If it wasn’t for the gray in my -hair I could pass for thirty-five easy. I wish to God I could lay my -hands on some hair dye.” - -“I can make a good black dye out of nutgalls,” said Moale. - -“Well, go to it!” cried Gault. “Get a move on you now. We must sleep at -Blackburn’s Post to-morrow night . . . Oh, my God! suppose we were to -find that the Slavis had got out of hand and murdered the girl!” - - - - - CHAPTER V - YELLOW-HEAD - - -Loseis sat on a bench at the door of the store. The Princess was very -pale, and her lips were pressed tight together. In her brave, proud eyes -was to be seen the piteous, questioning look of a child: Why must I -suffer so much? Just inside the door of the store Mary-Lou was squatting -on the floor with her head buried in her arms. Loseis had to be brave -for both. - -The buildings at Blackburn’s Post formed three sides of a grassy square, -the fourth side being open to the river. The store faced the river, -flanked by a warehouse on each side. On Loseis’ right was the Women’s -House, and opposite it Blackburn’s House and his stable. All the -buildings were constructed of logs, and roofed with sods, now sprouting -greenly. Nothing could have been rougher, nevertheless the buildings -seemed to belong in that place; and there was a pleasing harmony in -their arrangement. Out in the middle of the grassy square rose a tall -flagpole. - -Loseis and Mary-Lou had taken up their abode in the store. At this -season of the year the stock of goods was much depleted, and Loseis was -in no great concern about losing what was left; but knowing the Indian -nature, she was well aware that if the Slavis were not prevented from -helping themselves, they would soon get out of hand altogether. - -In the store there was plenty of food to their hand; as for water, -Loseis obtained it after dark by creeping down to the small stream where -it wound around the flank of the little plateau. All night a little lamp -burned in the window of the store. Night-attacks were not at all in the -Slavis’ line; but Loseis wished them to be reminded whenever they looked -that way, that somebody was on guard. All day the door of the store was -allowed to stand open; while the two girls permitted themselves to be -seen passing unconcernedly in and out, and performing their household -tasks out in front. Their only defense lay in this appearance of -unconcern. - -Three days and three nights of cruel anxiety had passed, and the fourth -night was approaching. Loseis had not reflected much on her situation; -it simply wouldn’t bear thinking about. She had just gone ahead and done -what came to her hand at the moment. During the first night the body of -Jimmy Moosenose had disappeared. The Slavis either buried it hastily in -some out of the way spot, or threw it in the river. Like the children -they were, they believed that if only the body were hidden the crime -could never be brought home to them. - -None of the Slavis had ever approached the store. Apparently they were -pursuing their ordinary avocations as if nothing had happened; the dogs -and the children fought; the women fished, cooked the meals, and made -moccasins; the men loafed and smoked. As she looked down at them the -sight of their inhuman indifference caused Loseis’ heart to burn. -Senseless animals! she ejaculated to herself a dozen times a day. - -Mary-Lou came out of the store. The Indian girl was unable either to -apply her hands to any work or to sit still. Her copper face had become -grayish, and her eyes were distracted with terror. She looked down over -the tepees, biting her lip. - -“More have come,” she said hoarsely. - -“You imagine that,” said Loseis. “I have seen nobody come.” - -“They not let you see them come,” said Mary-Lou. “Sleep in their -friends’ tepees. But I see more canoes in the creek.” - -“Well, what of it?” said Loseis with a grand parade of indifference. -“They’re harmless.” - -“Like coyotes,” said Mary-Lou. “They are sitting down to wait for us to -die!” - -Loseis sprang up nervously. Her face was working. “You are like a raven -croaking all day!” she cried. “That does no good!” - -Mary-Lou caught hold of Loseis imploringly. “Let us go from here!” she -begged. “All night I listen! . . . My brain is turned to ice. I don’t -know what I am doing! . . . As soon as it is dark let us take horses and -go. They not know until to-morrow that we are gone. Never catch us then. -It is only ondred-feefty mile to Fort Good Hope. . . .” - -Loseis detached the clinging hands. “It’s no good going on this way,” -she said harshly. “I will not run from Slavis.” - -Mary-Lou fell on her knees, clutching Loseis’ skirt, babbling -incoherently in her terror. Loseis raised her face to the sky, clenching -her teeth in despair. How much of this have I got to stand? she was -thinking. - -Then she saw the Slavis begin to run to the river bank. “Look! Look!” -she cried. “Something is coming up the river!” - -Mary-Lou scrambled to her feet. Whatever it was in the river, it was -approaching close under the bank. They could see nothing. The Slavis -were yelling and pointing. - -“It is Conacher!” screamed Mary-Lou. - -“NO! No! No!” cried Loseis in a voice as taut as an over-stretched -violin string. “It is just a Slavi coming up river. Anything is enough -to get them going.” - -“It is Conacher!” screamed Mary-Lou. “If it was a Slavi they would run -down to the water. They stop on the bank. They are a little afraid. See! -they look at us. It is somebody for us. It is Conacher!” - -Loseis felt that if she allowed herself to believe it and was then -disappointed, it would kill her. “No! No!” she said faintly. “It is too -soon!” - -And then the yellow head rose above the bank. - -Loseis collapsed suddenly on the bench and burst into tears. Her whole -body was shaken. Mary-Lou fell on her knees with a scream of joy. -“Conacher! . . . Conacher!” - -Loseis struggled hard to regain her self-control. “Stop that noise!” she -said angrily. “Go into the store. He mustn’t think that we want him so -badly!” - -Laughing and crying simultaneously, Mary-Lou went staggering into the -store. - -Loseis remained on the bench watching, with her hands in her lap. The -tears were called in; and she furtively wiped away their traces. -Conacher had his two Beaver Indians with him. These lingered to -fraternize with the Slavis, while the white man came striding across the -natural meadow to the foot of the rise. He was bare-headed as usual. A -newcomer in the country, the fame of his curly, yellow pate had already -spread far and wide. Alongside the Slavis he loomed like a young giant. -Loseis had seen him take a Slavi man by the collar in each hand, and -lift them clear of the ground. To the waiting girl he was like a god -come in answer to her prayer. - -She was very quiet when he reached her, her smile tremulous. The change -in her from the arrogant little Princess who had used him so -despitefully on his first visit was so striking, that at first Conacher -could only stand and stare. They never thought to greet each other. -Finally Conacher exhibited the little black streamer, limp from being -clutched in his warm hand. - -“What does this mean?” he asked simply. - -“My father is dead,” said Loseis. “Four days ago.” - -“Oh, Heaven!” cried Conacher. “And you all alone here! What did you do?” - -“I buried him,” said Loseis, spreading out her hands. - -“_Yourself!_” - -“There was no other to do it.” - -“Oh, my God!” - -Mary-Lou had crept out of the store again. “They kill Jimmy Moosenose,” -she said, nodding in the direction of the Slavis. “And break into the -store.” - -“I put them out again,” said Loseis, quickly and proudly. - -“Oh, God! what awful things have been happening here!” cried Conacher -aghast. - -His sympathy caused Loseis to tremble dangerously again. “Oh, it will be -all right now,” she said swiftly. “One white man is enough to put fear -into the heart of these dogs.” - -Conacher looked at that brave and piteous figure, and was caught up in a -very hurricane of the emotions. He was mad to enfold her in his arms; to -comfort the child, to love the woman, but a feeling of chivalry -restrained him. It appeared unseemly to intrude his love in the moment -of her grief; he turned away abruptly, searching distractedly in his -mind for some expedient to tide him over the dangerous moment. - -“I must go fetch my fellows before they are contaminated by the Slavis,” -he said in a strangled voice, and strode away down the slope again. - -“Ah, he does not love me,” murmured Loseis with extreme sadness. - -“You are wrong,” said Mary-Lou. “It was speaking in his eyes.” - -“No! No! No!” said Loseis violently. Nevertheless she was secretly -comforted. - -She went bustling into the store. “Come! we will close up the store now, -and go to our own house. Conacher will be hungry. We must cook a big -meal. There is still some canned apples and canned butter in the store. -Ahchoogah brought in a moose to-day. I will take a haunch of it for -Conacher. I will take the biggest fish for Conacher, too. Be quick! Be -quick! I will go down and get the other Marys to help you. . . .” - -Later, Loseis and Conacher were sitting at the door of the Women’s -House, while the appetizing odors came stealing out. A heavy constraint -was upon them; they could not meet each other’s eyes. The man, looking -down, marveled at the delicacy of Loseis’ shapely hands, lying loosely -in her lap. What a rare, fine creature to find in these rude -surroundings! Her beauty and her proud manner intimidated him. Who was -he to aspire so high? The girl wondered sadly why the man did not speak. -He had only to speak! - -When he did speak it was not in the tone that she longed to hear. “What -are you going to do?” he asked, matter-of-fact. - -To Loseis the solution was simplicity itself. Conacher was to stay -there, and everything go on as before. But it was not seemly for her to -propose this. She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. - -“But you must have thought something about what you would do,” he said -surprised. “You can’t stay here.” - -Loseis’ heart sunk. She said nothing. - -“Fort Good Hope cannot be but a hundred miles or so across the height of -land,” he went on. - -“A hundred and fifty,” said Loseis. - -“I have heard there’s a white woman at Fort Good Hope,” said Conacher. -“She’s the parson’s sister.” - -“What do I want with the parson’s sister?” demanded Loseis with a spice -of resentment. - -Conacher looked at her helplessly. - -I would go to Fort Good Hope to the parson with Conacher if he asked me, -thought Loseis, and a deep blush overspread her neck and face. She -turned away her head to hide it. - -“You can’t stay here,” he said. - -“I am not going to give up my father’s Post, and allow the Slavis to -strip the store,” said Loseis with spirit. “Besides, the whole season’s -catch of fur is stored in the warehouse, waiting to be shipped outside. -It is worth many thousands of dollars.” - -“How is it sent out?” asked Conacher. - -“Every Spring when the grass is grown sufficiently to graze the horses, -it is sent overland by pack-horse to a warehouse that my father has on -the prairie near the crossing of the big river. That is three hundred -miles. Jimmy Moosenose was always sent with the horses and men. Seventy -horses and fifteen men beside the cook. In that warehouse they find the -grub for next year and the store goods which are put there by John -Gruber, my father’s outside man. They bring the grub back, and leave the -fur in the warehouse, and John Gruber gets it afterwards. My father -never allowed the Slavis to meet the Crees in John Gruber’s outfit. It -is time for them to start now. John Gruber will be waiting many days at -the Crossing.” - -“But you’ve no one to send now,” said Conacher. - -“Then I must go myself,” said Loseis. - -“My God! not alone with a gang of redskins!” cried Conacher. - -“They would not dare harm me,” said Loseis proudly. - -“Maybe not,” cried Conacher violently. “But just the same I couldn’t -stand for that!” - -Loseis’ sad heart looked up a little. He did care a little what became -of her. - -And then he spoiled it by adding: “No white man could!” - -“We must find somebody to go with you,” he presently went on; “and then -you can continue on outside with your father’s agent.” - -“There is all the grub and store goods waiting to come in,” objected -Loseis. - -“That will have to be sold,” said Conacher. “The Company will buy it.” - -“There are all my father’s horses across the river,” said Loseis; “many -thousands of head. During the summer hay must be cut for them around the -shores of our lake; or next winter they will starve.” - -“But my dear girl,” said Conacher, “you cannot go on doing business here -now that he is gone!” - -“Why not?” demanded Loseis. - -“Why . . . why . . .” stammered Conacher. “A woman trader! Why such a -thing was never heard of!” - -“Well, it will be heard of now,” said Loseis. - -Conacher ascribed this to mere bravado. What a spirited little thing she -was! Like a plucky boy; but with all the sweetness of a woman. “We must -send to Fort Good Hope for help,” he said. - -“Do not speak to me again of Fort Good Hope!” said Loseis. “Gault, the -trader there, was my father’s enemy.” - -Conacher knew nothing of the feuds of the country. “Yes, yes,” he said -soothingly; “but a tragedy like this wipes out old scores. Gault would -not take advantage of your situation.” - -“You are an outsider,” she said. “You do not know Gault.” - -“No man would!” insisted Conacher. - -“I will not hand over my father’s Post to Gault!” cried Loseis. “That -would bring my father out of his grave!” - -“Not hand it over to him,” protested Conacher. “But just let him advise -you. He is the only one that can tell you what is best to do; who can -arrange things. There is no other white man within hundreds of miles.” - -Then it had to come out. “I already know what to do,” said Loseis, very -low. “If you would help me, we could do it all together.” - -Conacher groaned, and clutched his head. “Oh, God! you don’t -understand!” he cried. “And what must you be thinking of me! What a -chance to be offered to a man, and I can’t take it!” He tried -desperately to explain to her. “You see, I am not free like the men of -this country. I am a government employee, tied hand and foot to my work. -My whole Summer’s work has been laid out for me. And my little piece is -only a part of a great survey of this whole country. I am appointed to -join with another party at Great Slave Lake on a certain date, and we in -turn must proceed up the Liard River to another rendezvous on the Yukon. -If I fail, the whole fails. Don’t you understand?” - -She did not wholly understand. “I heard you tell it,” she said a little -sullenly. - -Conacher jumped up, and paced the grass in an agony of indecision. He -was teetering on the brink. If Loseis had raised her eyes to his face, -he would have fallen at her feet, and allowed the government to go to -the devil. But she kept her eyes sullenly down. And then before either -spoke again, with a smart thudding of hoofs and creaking of saddle -leathers, a well-turned out company of six men and several spare horses -came down the trail behind the Post, and trotted out into the little -plaza. - - * * * * * - -Gault had caught sight of Conacher’s yellow head as soon as he came over -the brow of the hill. He reined up sharply, his face going pinched and -ugly. “A white man here!” he said furiously to Moale. “Who the devil can -he be?” - -Moale drew up at his side. “That will be Conacher,” he said in his -unconcerned way. “I have heard talk of his yellow head.” - -“A _young_ man!” said Gault; and cursed him thickly and fervently. - -“He’s on a government survey down to Great Slave Lake and beyond,” said -Moale indifferently. “He won’t be able to interfere with us.” - -But Gault rode down the hill with a black heart. The young man had got -in his innings first; and now fifty-three must stand comparison with -twenty-three, and the dyed black head be measured against the famous -golden one. - -By the time he rode around the buildings of the Post his face was -perfectly composed and solicitous, of course. He sat his horse with -conscious grace. Flinging himself off, he tossed the reins to one of the -Crees, and came quickly to Loseis. - -“Miss Blackburn,” he said, “the moment I heard of your terrible loss I -jumped on my horse to come to you. I cannot express to you how shocked -and grieved I am. Your father and I were not good friends, but that is -all past now. Believe me, I am most completely at your service.” - -The watching Conacher considered that this was very handsomely said. How -much better than he could do it! he thought with a sigh. He had no -reason to share in Loseis’ suspicions of Gault. A load was lifted from -the young man’s heart. Gault’s fine outfit inspired confidence. Loseis -would be all right now, and he could go on about his work. But before he -left he would ask her to wait for him. The idea that this old man might -prove to be a rival, never entered Conacher’s honest heart. - -Loseis received Gault with a manner no less finished and proud than his -own. “You are welcome,” she said gravely. “My father’s house”—she -indicated the building opposite—“is at your disposal. If you wish to -put up your horses the stable is behind it. Or you can turn them out -anywhere. Dinner here in half an hour.” - -Gault bowing, expressed his thanks. He then turned inquiringly towards -Conacher. - -That young man said: “I am Paul Conacher of the geological survey.” - -Gault thrust out his hand with the appearance of the greatest -cordiality. “I am delighted to meet you,” he said. “It is a great -satisfaction to find that Miss Blackburn is not alone here.” He gave -Conacher a meaning glance that suggested as between man and man it would -be well for them to discuss the situation together. - -This was quite in line with Conacher’s ideas, and the two walked off -together towards the house opposite. Loseis watched them go under stormy -brows. She saw Gault place his hand affectionately on the young man’s -shoulder, and her lip curled. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - THE DINNER PARTY - - -Gault and Conacher returned to the Women’s House for dinner. Gault had -changed to a well-cut black suit with linen of the finest quality, and a -little discreet but handsome jewelry. Poor Conacher, having no change, -showed up at a disadvantage beside him. When they beheld Loseis both men -caught their breath in astonishment. She was wearing one of the -“outside” dresses which her father had been accustomed to import that he -might have the pleasure of seeing her in them. This one was of black -velvet cunningly and simply draped, and showing no touch of color. -Around her neck hung a string of pearls that made Gault open his eyes; -not the one with the gold nuggets; but a long plain string of -beautifully matched stones. The innocent Conacher had no notion but that -it was a string of pearl beads such as his sisters wore. - -The table was laid for four in Loseis’ own room. She seated Moale facing -her; Conacher at her right; Gault at her left. The trader who was -sensitive to these little things, bit his lip at this arrangement, but -was obliged to put up with it. Conacher never noticed that he had been -given the seat of honor. There was fine china and silver on the table; -and the food was wonderful, including delicacies which Gault himself -could not command at Fort Good Hope, such as currant jelly; the joint of -moose meat cunningly larded with bacon, and served with cranberry sauce; -an apple pie. The three comely Marys in black dresses and snowy aprons -moved noiselessly about the table, while Mary-Lou oversaw all in the -kitchen. - -To Conacher, after weeks on the trail, it was like a taste of Heaven; -and Gault was obliged to confess to himself that the establishment while -rude, nevertheless had a better style than his own. Loseis with her hair -done up on top of her head looked like a Princess indeed, and the trader -gloated at the thought of seeing her enthroned at _his_ table. He -pictured a glorious future for Fort Good Hope. The thought of Conacher -gave him little concern now. He had put down the young man to his own -satisfaction as a fool. - -The trader dominated the table. The lamplight was favorable to him, and -he knew it. None would have thought of terming him an old man. His -manner was perfection. Open-browed, courteous, half-apologetic, he kept -them entertained with stories of the country; and both of the young -people were to a certain extent fascinated by his charm. During the meal -business was not to be touched upon. - -“Ah! what a privilege it is to have a lady at the table!” said Gault -wrinkling up his eyes, and showing his big white teeth. - -(Rather like the wolf in the fairy-tale; thought Loseis; but I suppose -some would call him a fine-looking man.) - -“Hear! Hear!” said Conacher. The young man felt like a hobbledehoy -alongside the elegant Gault; but he harbored no malice. Poor Conacher’s -heart was oppressed by the sight of Loseis in her bravery. Could this be -the rude little spitfire that he had dared to laugh at upon their first -meeting? - -“That is what we miss in the North,” Gault went on; “the civilizing -touch of lovely woman! It is terrible the way men go to seed in this -country. It is a fact that when a man’s manners go, his morals are bound -to go too. Ah! my dear Miss Blackburn, if we had more like you to grace -our lonely posts we’d all be better men!” - -(Why haven’t I the face to say such things? thought Conacher.) - -Loseis smiled a little wanly. She was secretly confused by the trader’s -glibness. She had never known a man like this. - -Later they sat down in front of the small fire that had been lighted to -drive away the evening chill; Loseis in her hammock-chair, the men on -either hand sitting stiffly in the straight-up-and-down chairs that -Blackburn had carved. What remained on the table was silently whisked -into the kitchen. - -“You may smoke if you wish,” said Loseis. - -Gault produced, wonder of wonders! a full cigar case, and offered it to -the younger man. The fragrance of the genuine Havana spread around. - -“Well!” said Conacher; “I never expected to get anything like this north -of Fifty-eight.” - -“Oh, with my improved transport,” said Gault carelessly, “I can have in -pretty much anything I want.” - -It now became necessary to speak of business. Gault inquired if the -season’s fur had been sent out. - -“No,” said Loseis. - -The trader might almost be said to have purred upon hearing that. -Indeed, fearing himself that he might be betraying too much complacency -about the mouth, he rubbed his upper lip, and gave a little cough. “I -will charge myself with that,” he said comfortably. “Make your mind -quite easy.” - -Loseis looked unhappy, but said nothing. - -“Of course,” Gault went on with the air of one who must be fair at -whatever cost to himself, “being your father’s competitor, his rival as -you might say, it is not proper that I should be your sole advisor.” - -Loseis looked at him in surprise. Dared he to speak of that? Her -confusion increased. This man was too much for her. - -“I am mighty glad that Conacher is here,” said Gault. - -“But I must return down the river to-night,” said Conacher. “I am -already many days behind my schedule.” - -Loseis’ eyes were close-hid now. “To-night?” she echoed softly. “But you -paddled all last night to get here.” - -Conacher affected to laugh, while his hungry eyes sought her averted -face. Loseis could have read there that he didn’t want to go; but she -wouldn’t look. “Oh, going downstream’s a cinch,” said Conacher. “Two of -us can sleep at a time in the dug-out, while the third man keeps her in -the middle of the current.” - -Loseis was silent. - -“To-night!” said Gault. “Ah, that’s too bad! . . . However, I can take -my measures before you go . . . Does your father employ a man of -business, a lawyer, outside?” he asked Loseis. - -“None that I know of,” she said, “except John Gruber.” - -“Ah, Gruber,” said Gault in his purring voice (Moale at the other end of -the row, listened to all this with a face like a sardonic mask), “an -excellent fellow, too. But too ignorant a man to serve you in this -crisis. . . . I am sure your father must have had wide interests outside -of the fur business,” he said insinuatingly. - -“If he had, I know nothing about it,” said Loseis. “He got business -letters every year when the outfit came in, but he did not show them to -me. I know nothing of business.” - -“Of course not,” said Gault soothingly. “Have you looked for those -letters since his death?” he asked, betraying more eagerness than was -perhaps in the best of taste. - -“No,” said Loseis, shortly. - -Gault was pulled up short. “Hm!” he said, stroking his chin. “Hm! . . .” -Finally he got a fresh start. “Well, if Blackburn employed an attorney -outside, Gruber will know his name. Gruber carried all his letters out, -and brought the answers back. I will write to Gruber. And if Blackburn -has no lawyer already, I will send for the best one obtainable, and will -arrange special means of transport for him. We’ll have him here in five -or six weeks at the outside. Lastly I will send for a sergeant and -detail of the police, so that the murder of Jimmy Moosenose can be -investigated. Until they come, in order that the Slavis may not take -fright, we will allow them to suppose that the murder has been -forgotten.” - -Conacher nodded in agreement with this; Loseis felt that she was being -crowded to one side. - -“I’ll start my letters off to Fort Good Hope at sun-up,” Gault went on. -“Unfortunately my steamboat has gone up to the head of navigation, and -won’t be back for a month; but by the time the messenger reaches the -post, my launch will have returned from carrying Mr. Ogilvie down to the -Chutes. The launch can make the Crossing in a week. Gruber will be -waiting there.” - -It all sounded so businesslike and proper, Loseis could take no -exception to it. The smooth voice, arranging everything, afflicted her -with a sort of despair. - -After some desultory talk, Gault arose, saying: “With your permission I -will go and write my letters now, so that Conacher may see them before -he goes.” - -Loseis bowed in acquiescence. She thought: I can talk to Conacher while -he is away. But Gault looked sharply from one to another, and added in -his polite way: “I’d be glad of your help in composing them, Conacher.” -Loseis’ heart sunk. The two went out together arm in arm. Moale followed -his master as a matter of course. - -Loseis was left staring into the fire. Mary-Lou came to the door and -looked at her full of loving solicitude; but Loseis made believe not to -know that she was there. The simple Mary-Lou could be of no help to her -in this situation. Loseis, whose nature it was to act instantaneously -without thinking, was all at sea on this flood of words. Everything was -mixed up in her mind. Maybe Gault is a true man, she thought; maybe he -means what he says. Conacher is satisfied. And if he is lying what can I -do anyhow? I know nothing. - -In due course they returned (without Moale) and the letters were laid -before Loseis. It appeared that Gault packed a little typewriter in his -outfit, and Loseis, though she looked at the letters indifferently, -secretly marveled at the neat clear printing. How could one contend -against a man like this! She scarcely read the letters. The lengthy -sentences merely dizzied her. - -It goes without saying that they were admirably expressed letters. There -is no need of reproducing them here, since Gault had not the slightest -intention of letting them reach their destinations. They were to be -conveniently lost en route. - -“I am satisfied if Conacher is,” said Loseis. - -“Mr. Gault has thought of everything,” said Conacher. - -Soon Conacher said, affecting to make light of his heavy heart: “Well, -I’ve sent my men down to launch the dug-out. I must be getting aboard.” - -Gault said quickly in his hearty way: “I’ll go down and see you off.” - -Conacher looked wistfully at Loseis, and hesitated. - -Loseis rebelled at last. She did not feel able to dispute Gault in -matters of business, but if he dared to interfere with her own private -concerns, let him look out! She stood up very quickly, and her chin went -up. “First I want to take Conacher to the store, and give him some grub -to take,” she said coolly. “You wait here, Mr. Gault.” Her eyes sought -his unafraid, and the trader’s eyes trailed away. - -“Why of course!” he said in his hearty way. But his affable smile had a -sickly look now. As they went through the door he shot a baleful glance -after them. That was a black half hour for him, obliged to sit there, -grinding his big teeth and picturing the two young creatures together in -the dark. Just when everything had seemed to be going his way, too! - -Outside, the black sky was crowded with stars big and little, all -focused on that pair of mortal lovers. The earth was so still one seemed -to hear the whisper of starlight. Loseis drew a great breath of relief. -Why that load was suddenly lifted from her breast she could not have -told. She involuntarily slipped her hand under Conacher’s arm, and he -pressed it hard against his ribs. They walked, pressing close together, -the blond head brooding low over the black one. There was no confession -of love. They were still afraid of that word. And anyhow this was -confession enough. With happiness their hearts became as breathlessly -still as the night. - -“Let’s not go to the store,” whispered Conacher. “I don’t need any -grub.” - -“I just said that,” whispered Loseis. “I wanted to be with you.” - -“Oh, you dear! . . . you dear! . . . you dear!” he murmured tremulously. - -Loseis pressed his arm. “Let’s go down on the flat,” she whispered. “He -might come to the door to watch us.” - -They went down the grassy slope. For a long time they did not speak. -They walked at a snail’s pace, arms linked, hands clasped, and heads -leaning together. At last a little whimpering sound was heard from -Loseis. That brave heart owned its weakness at last. - -“Oh, Paul!” she faltered. “Oh Paul, _must_ you go?” - -“I must! I must!” he cried in pain. “But I will arrange things just as -quick as I can, and come back.” - -“It will be so long!” she said sadly. - -“But at least you are safe now.” - -“Oh, safe . . . maybe!” - -“If you are afraid, come with me. I will take care of you.” - -“No,” she said quickly. “That would not be acting right towards my -father. . . . I am not afraid of any danger. But . . . but I cannot see -what is before me! I do not like that man!” - -“He seems to be on the square,” said Conacher anxiously. “He has -provided for everything better than I could.” - -“It is so terrible for me to have to be with somebody I do not like,” -said Loseis. - -“You have your own house,” said Conacher. “And your girls. You need only -talk to him about business matters.” - -“He is so ugly!” said Loseis. - -“You silly girl!” said Conacher fondly. “Gault’s considered a very -fine-looking man!” - -“Not to me! . . . You are beautiful, my Paul. In the dark I can see your -beauty!” - -“Oh, Loseis! you must not say such things!” he said, genuinely -distressed. “It is not fitting from you to me!” - -“Why?” she asked wilfully. - -“Because . . . because . . . by comparison with you I . . . Oh, Loseis, -I ought to be kneeling at your feet!” - -“What good would you be to my feet?” she asked, nestling against him. “I -like it better this way.” - -Conacher laughed suddenly and delightedly in his throat. - -“Well . . . ?” said Loseis, leaving her interrogation in the air. - -“What is it?” he asked anxiously. - -“Oh, you make me _say_ it!” she cried vexatiously. “Do you think I am -beautiful?” - -The question rendered him nearly speechless. He pressed her hand hard -against his cheek. “Oh, Loseis!” he stammered. “I . . . I . . . you -. . . I can’t tell you. I’m just a blundering fool when it comes to -expressing my feelings. Why, you have made a new world for me. When I -think of your face it drives me out of my senses. I can’t think of the -words for it!” - -She pillowed her cheek happily in the hollow inside his shoulder. “Then -you must find words!” she said. “You must never stop telling me. My ears -are greedy to hear it. Of all the world, I only care to be beautiful for -you!” - -In sight of the darkly flowing river they came to a stop. They could -hear the murmuring voices of the two Beaver Indians at the water’s edge. -They drew apart. For a long while they stood there not touching each -other in dumb unhappiness and constraint. They were both new at this -lovemaking business. - -“Well,” said Conacher at last, like a schoolboy trying to carry it off -flippantly, “I must make a break . . .” - -“Oh!” she cried, hurt to the quick. “Is that all you care?” - -He dropped his absurd pretense. “It is like death to leave you now,” he -murmured, brokenly. - -“Well, good-by,” she said suddenly in an unnaturally high-pitched voice. -And turned as if to run forthwith. - -He caught hold of her. “No! No!” he cried. “Not like this!” - -She struggled in his arms. “Let me go! Let me go!” she whispered in a -desperate voice. “I can’t stand these good-bys. I like a thing ended -quickly. . . . Let me go!” - -Holding her within one arm he tried to turn up her face to his. “Loseis -. . . dearest . . . before I go,” he whispered imploringly. “_Please_, -Loseis. . . . To remember all those lonely nights . . .” - -She resisted with all her strength. “No! No! No! No! Not yet! If you -kiss me I shall never be able to let you go! . . . Ah, let me go while I -want to go!” - -That naïve cry touched his heart. He released her. The instant she was -released she lost all her desire to run. She stood there in front of -him, very still. - -“You had better go,” he said shakily. - -“Put your hands behind your back!” she whispered breathlessly. “Stoop -down a little.” - -He obeyed. - -Like lightning her arms went around his neck, and her lips were pressed -hard against his. Then like a shadow she was gone. Through the dark her -caressing whisper came back to him. - -“Come back soon, dear!” - - * * * * * - -When Loseis got back to the Women’s House, Gault was sitting there by -the fire, smoking a fresh cigar. He sprang up with a pleasant, fatherly -sort of smile. His eyes dwelt lightly on Loseis’s face, but she had an -impression just the same, that they were boring into her. Well, let them -bore! At the business of hiding her heart she was fully his match. She -showed him a smooth, untroubled face. - -“Has he gone?” asked Gault. - -“I expect so,” said Loseis. “I did not go down the hill with him.” - -Gault rubbed his lip. He didn’t know whether or not to believe her. - -He felt his way carefully. “Conacher seems like a fine young fellow,” he -remarked. “Have you known him long?” - -Loseis remained standing by the fire. “Oh, he stopped here for three -days,” she said coolly. “But I scarcely saw him then.” - -“How did he learn so soon of your father’s death?” - -“I never thought to ask him,” said Loseis with a clear brow. “By -moccasin telegraph, I suppose. The Slavis are continually traveling up -and down the river.” - -“It is too bad that he is in the government employ,” said Gault. - -Loseis had no intention of discussing the man she loved with another -man. She remained silent. She had a good capacity for holding her -tongue. It was her only defense against Gault’s smooth talk; and it was -a better defense than she realized. - -Gault was obliged to go on and answer the question without its having -been asked. “They never come to anything,” he said. “They are no more -than clerks all their lives.” - -“So I have heard,” said Loseis indifferently. - -Gault was deceived by her coolness. He argued that she was too young to -be able to hide her feelings so consummately. She did not care for the -young geologist. Their meetings had been too few and brief for any -serious damage to be worked. He began to feel better. - -“How did you learn of my father’s death?” asked Loseis unexpectedly. - -Gault determined to tell the truth, since it must become known anyway. -“The Indian Etzooah brought me the news. Did you not send him?” - -“No,” said Loseis. - -“Well!” said Gault with an air of astonishment. “I suppose he must have -started off blindly on his own account.” - -“I didn’t know he could speak English,” said Loseis. - -“He can’t. Only Cree.” - -“Nobody here knew that he could speak Cree, either,” said Loseis. - -Gault allowed the subject to drop. “While you were away I have been -sitting here thinking over your affairs,” he said, enveloping Loseis -with his smile. - -Oh, Heaven! she thought; is he going to start talking again? How can I -endure it without Conacher here to keep me in countenance! In -desperation she feigned to hide a yawn behind her hand. - -Gault had no recourse but to take the hint. “You are worn out!” he said -solicitously. “And no wonder. I will retire now. And to-morrow we can -talk.” - -Loseis’ heart sunk. To-morrow!—and all the succeeding to-morrows! -Should she never be able to escape his talk! “You are very kind,” she -murmured politely. - -“Good-night,” said Gault, offering her his hand. - -Loseis either had to give him hers, or come to an open quarrel. With an -inward shiver of repulsion, she laid her hand within his, keeping her -eyes close hid. “Good-night,” she murmured. - -Good God! how beautiful she is! thought Gault; with her mixture of -haughty pride and shyness (for so he took it). I’d take her if she -didn’t have a cent! A genuine desire was mingled with the calculation in -his eyes; he bared his teeth in what he intended to be an ardent smile. -In his youth Gault had been famous for his big white teeth, and he did -not realize that their luster was somewhat diminished. For a moment he -clung to the cool, limp hand. - -“My dear, dear girl!” he murmured. “If you only knew how my heart goes -out to you in this hour of affliction. My only desire is to serve you!” - -Loseis gritted her teeth in a torment of repulsion. Grinning at her in -that disgusting way, while his hard eyes sought to pry into her heart? -She could _feel_ his grin, though she kept her eyes down. Her hand -trembled with the desire to snatch itself away, and smack his leering -old face. But above all she was determined that Blackburn’s daughter -should not be revealed to this fine gentleman as a savage uncultured -girl, and she commanded her repulsion. - -“Good-night . . . good-night,” repeated Gault with a touch of archness, -that looked to the future. He hastened out with a debonair swing. -Loseis’ fiery eyes bored holes in his back. - -Crossing the grass, Gault exulted within himself. “A half-formed child,” -he thought; “an experienced man can make whatever he chooses of her! And -by God, what natural elegance! what pride! what beauty! I am in luck!” - -While within the room he had just left, Loseis scowled at her offending -hand, and rubbed it violently on her skirt. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - THE CLOVEN HOOF - - -Next morning before Loseis had breakfasted, Gault was back at the -Women’s House, knocking deprecatingly at the door. - -“I’m sorry to disturb you so early,” he said, “but I forgot something -last night; and I’m holding my messenger now until I can get it from -you.” - -“What is that?” asked Loseis. - -“May I come in?” he said smiling. - -Loseis led the way into her room. - -Gault had several sheets of paper in his hand. “If, as I suspect,” he -began in the smooth voice which so exasperated Loseis without her -knowing why, “Blackburn has sums of money lying in the bank outside, -that belongs to you, of course; but you could not draw against it unless -the bank was already in possession of your signature. Therefore, in -order to save time, I propose to send out several specimens of your -signature now. I will put them in the hands of your lawyer, who will in -turn pass them on to the bank.” - -This sounded all right to Loseis, who proceeded to write her name on -each of the four blank sheets that Gault passed her. Loseis had had -small occasion to practice the art of handwriting, and it was but slowly -that she formed the great round letters of her official name. - - _Laurentia Blackburn_ - -“Laurentia!” murmured Gault in a fond voice. “What an odd name.” - -“I believe I was named after a chain of mountains,” said Loseis dryly. - -“But how dignified and melodious!” he said. “Laurentia . . . Laurentia -. . . !” - -She shot an irritated glance at him through her lashes. Had the man -nothing better to do than to stand there mouthing her name in that -ridiculous fashion! Loseis privately detested her name. Jane would have -been more to her fancy. - -Gault gathered up the sheets, and made as if to go. At the door he -paused: “I say,” he said, like one speaking to a child, “isn’t there -something at Fort Good Hope that you would like my messenger to bring -back to you? I have a regular ‘outside’ store at Good Hope, you know.” - -“Oh, no, thank you,” said Loseis quickly. “Nothing at all!” - -“Just the same,” said Gault with that arch smile of his, “I will see if -we cannot find something that will please you!” - -As he went through the door Loseis involuntarily flung up her arms -crying: “Oh, give me air! Give me air!” - -Mary-Lou came running in to see what was the matter. - -Loseis kicked a fur rug violently to one side, and banged open the -little window. “Oh, that man is like a bearskin tied over one’s head; -like a feather bed upon one!” she cried. Standing back from the window -she angrily apostrophized the receding figure of Gault. “Yes, you! you! -If I have to see you every day I shall suffocate!” Turning around and -beholding the amazed figure of Mary-Lou, Loseis suddenly embraced her, -and dropping her head on her shoulder, burst into tears. - -“But what is the matter?” gasped Mary-Lou. - -“I don’t know!” wailed Loseis. “I must be crazy! He speaks fair and -honest; he is always polite and kind . . . but . . . but I _can’t stand_ -the man!” - - * * * * * - -Before the morning was out Gault was seen returning. Loseis, who had -persuaded herself that she was a fool, schooled herself to receive him -politely. He was accompanied this time by one of his Crees, who was -carrying a neat leather-covered box by its handle. Gault never performed -such menial tasks for himself. There was enough of the child in Loseis -to be rendered intensely curious by the sight of that box. - -The trader dismissed his servant at the door, and brought the box in -himself. Upon being laid on the table and opened, a most fascinating and -complicated little machine was revealed, all shining with nickel-plate -and black lacquer. Loseis had not the remotest idea of what it was for. - -“This is the typewriter; the writing-machine,” explained the trader. “I -have another one at the Post which I have sent for. In the meantime I -want to present this to you. I thought it might amuse you to practice on -it; and it will certainly save you time. Now that you are a business -woman, you will have many letters to write.” - -Loseis’ heart was touched by this seeming act of kindness. She felt -remorseful. “That is very good of you,” she said, blushing. “It is true, -I am a miserable writer. But I shall never be able to learn this.” - -“On the contrary,” said Gault. “It is very simple. Sit down at the table -and I will show you now.” - -Loseis obeyed; and Gault drew up another chair close beside her. He -explained to her how to put the paper in; how to shift the carriage back -and forth; how to start a new line. For the rest all you had to do was -to strike the proper letters. In ten minutes Loseis had mastered the -idea of the thing. She was fascinated with this new toy (she had -possessed so few toys in her life) but was made horribly uncomfortable -by the enforced proximity of Gault’s head to her own. He was chewing -some sort of medicated candy that gave his breath a strong, pungent -odor. Loseis hated strong smells of every kind. - -“Now let me try it all by myself,” she said. - -“Go ahead! Go ahead!” he said, but did not withdraw himself at all. When -he saw her at a loss, he would grab hold of her finger and guide it to -the right key. Loseis shivered internally. - -Finally her discomfort became more than she could bear. “I cannot do a -thing if you hang over me like that,” she said. - -Gault leaned back in his chair with a great laugh. “So independent!” he -said teasingly. - -However, he held himself away from her, and Loseis proceeded with her -slow punching of the keys. How strange and fascinating to see the words -stand up upon the paper! She had never possessed so marvelous a toy as -this. As soon as Gault was out of the way she would start a letter to -Conacher. How astonished he would be! - -In a minute or two Gault’s head was as close as ever to hers. Loseis -tried to ignore the fact, but it was impossible to do so. She was aware, -through a subtle feminine sense, that he was not paying any attention to -the typewriter now. He was too still. She felt as if something precious -were being drawn from her that she had no intention of yielding to any -man save one. - -“I’ll go on with this this afternoon,” she said nervously. “I have to do -something else now.” At the same time she attempted to slide sideways -out of her chair. - -Gault caught her hand. “Ah, don’t stop,” he said a little thickly. “You -look like such a cunning little student, bending over your work. Where -did you get that wonderful black hair of yours . . . ?” - -Loseis was up like a wild thing then, and backing off to the far end of -the room. “How dare you! How dare you!” she said breathlessly. “Take -yourself out of here, and your machine too! Or I’ll fling it after you! -Did you bring it here only as an excuse to insult me!” - -Gault rose also. “Well!” he cried, laughing heartily. But there was an -ugly look in his eyes. - -His laughter immediately brought about a reaction in Loseis. She -realized that she was making far too much of a trifle. This was not the -way for a well-born girl to act. She told herself that it was only -because she had come to love another man that she found this one -detestable. She lowered her head, and a hot blush flowed over her -cheeks. - -“I am sorry,” she muttered unwillingly. “I am out of sorts this morning. -I did not mean what I said.” In the very act of saying this Loseis’ -heart accused her of cowardice. She felt hopelessly confused. Oh, how -difficult it was to be well-bred and ladylike. - -“Why, that’s all right!” cried Gault heartily. “It is perfectly natural -at such a time. I’m sorry I displeased you. I assure you I feel nothing -for you, but the deepest respect and sympathy! . . . I’ll leave you now. -Do amuse yourself with the typewriter.” - -As he walked away from the house he murmured to himself: “A skittish -filly! I must proceed more slowly. Gad! it’s difficult though!” Thus he -deceived himself, as middle-aged gentlemen bent on gallantry are so apt -to do. He felt delightfully ardent. At the same time though, a nasty -little anxiety continued to plague the back of his mind. - -Meanwhile Loseis paced up and down her room, wondering for the hundredth -time within the past twenty-four hours, what was the matter with her, -that she felt so hopelessly divided. This was a new feeling for her. -However the shining little typewriter _was_ fascinating. She presently -sat down to compose a letter to Conacher; and forgot her troubles. -Another little raft carried her letter downstream. - - * * * * * - -Every afternoon Loseis opened the store. It was a point of pride with -her to comport herself in all respects towards the Slavis as if nothing -had happened. She often visited their village, interesting herself in -all their concerns, as she considered fitting in a prudent mistress -towards her childish and feather-brained servants. They were shy with -her, and none came to trade at the store. Loseis, shrugging, was content -to bide her time. Hunger would tell in the end. For twenty years now, -the Slavis had been accustomed to the white man’s flour, tea and sugar, -and the present generation could not do without them. - -Loseis and Mary-Lou sat on the bench outside the store. Mary-Lou had -been reading aloud, but her mistress had silenced her, because she -wished to think. Loseis was unpracticed in the exercise of thinking -things over, and she found it both difficult and painful. This was the -question on which she split: was Gault a scoundrel? All his acts and -words seemed to be above reproach; but Loseis’ heart stubbornly misgave -her. Could she trust her heart? She reflected that her father had never -betrayed any hesitation in calling Gault a scoundrel; but Loseis had had -plenty of examples of her father’s wrong-headedness. She adored him, but -had no great opinion of his judgment. It was by his strength and energy -that Blackburn had forged ahead, not by wisdom. And so the weary round -continued. To one of Loseis’ downright nature it was torture to remain -in a state of indecision. - -At the door of Blackburn’s House fifty yards distant from where they -sat, the Indian Etzooah was to be seen ostentatiously cleaning a pair of -Gault’s boots. It suggested itself to Loseis as rather curious that -Gault should choose the ignorant Slavi for a body-servant, when he had -the more civilized Crees. She recollected that on various occasions -during the past few days she had seen Etzooah hanging about looking -self-conscious. The thought popped into her head that perhaps Gault had -set him as a spy on her movements. Well, supposing that to be so, here -was a chance to turn the tables on the trader. Through Etzooah she might -be able to learn if Gault had lied to her. - -She called to Etzooah in her ordinary manner of offhand assurance. When -he came to her cringing and grinning in his imbecile fashion (you could -read nothing in that grin of the Slavis) she said coolly: - -“I need a man. There are some goods in the store to be moved.” - -Leading him inside, she had him shift some bags of flour from one place -to another. This done, she presented him with a plug of tobacco, and let -him know that he had done all she required. They returned outside, and -Loseis bade Mary-Lou go on with the reading. - -Etzooah, as Loseis expected, did not leave them, but, making his face -perfectly vacant, squatted down in the grass at the other side of the -door, and proceeded to shave a pipeful of tobacco from the plug, careful -not to spill a crumb. Loseis allowed Mary-Lou to read for awhile, then -she started slightly as if a thought had just occurred to her, and -motioned to the girl to stop. - -“Etzooah,” she said (speaking in the Slavi tongue of course) “it comes -to me that I have not thanked you for fetching Gault from Fort Good -Hope. That was well done.” - -Etzooah grinned. “Gault is a good man,” he said. - -“You speak truth,” said Loseis gravely. “How did it come that you set -off without telling me?” - -“Wah!” said Etzooah, “you were attending upon the body of Blackburn. It -was not right for me to go to you at such a time. I just caught some -horses and went.” - -“It was well thought of,” said Loseis. “How did you make yourself -understood to the white men?” - -“I speak the Cree,” said Etzooah. - -“Wah!” said Loseis politely. “That was not known to me.” - -“My father was a Cree,” said Etzooah. “It is well known.” - -“I had forgotten,” said Loseis. - -Without changing a muscle of her face, or raising her voice at all, -Loseis shifted to English. “Etzooah,” she said, “the Slavis are saying -to each other that you were false to your own people. They are angry -because you brought Gault here. . . . Do not move suddenly or you are a -dead man. Mahtsonza is hiding behind the corner of the store with a gun -in his hands waiting to shoot you!” - -Etzooah’s copper face changed to a livid ash-color. Suddenly with a -single movement he bounded to his feet, and inside the door of the -store. Loseis stood up with a scornful laugh. - -“Go back to your master,” she said, pointing. “I only wished to find out -if you could speak English. You are a spy!” - -Etzooah slunk away. Still only half convinced that he had been tricked, -he kept glancing fearfully over his shoulder. - -Loseis was filled with a fierce exultation. Now she _knew_! No more -indecision. To be sure, when she reflected, her solitary and desperate -situation might well appall the stoutest heart; but at the moment she -was only aware of the relief of getting rid of that suffocating sense of -futility. Now she would know what to do! Her father was right about -Gault; and her own heart had not played her false. - -She closed the store, and took Mary-Lou back to their house. - -Loseis’ nature knew no half measures. Having recognized Gault as her -enemy, she was prepared to fight. She did not blink the danger of her -position. She no longer had any illusions about the fate of those -letters which the trader had so impressively despatched outside. She -realized that Gault himself stood between her and any possible succor, -and that he intended to keep her cut off from her kind until he should -have obtained what he wanted. Well, she quickly resolved upon a course -of action. Her only hope lay in bringing her wits into play. Gault must -not be allowed to suspect that she saw through his schemes. Etzooah, she -knew, would never dare confess to his master that he had betrayed -himself. There was a fatuous side to Gault’s character; and she must -play on that. Perhaps through his own folly she might defeat him in the -end. - -Suddenly Loseis clapped her hands to her head with a cry of dismay. She -had suddenly recollected that all her father’s papers were in his desk -in the room where Gault was sleeping, and the desk was not even locked! -While he was alive of course, nobody would have dared venture into -Blackburn’s room uninvited, much less touch his papers. Loseis beat her -fists against her head, and groaned in bitterness. What an ignorant -childish fool she had been to neglect a thing so important! - -She ran to the window to look across at the men’s house. She could not -tell whether Gault was within or not. On the spur of the moment she sent -Mary-Lou across to invite Gault and Moale to supper with her. Mary-Lou -returned to say that the two men had ridden up to the lake (ten miles -distant) to have a look at the Slavi village there. Loseis then ventured -across herself. - -Etzooah was in the kitchen of the house. He received her with his -customary witless grin, and edged in front of the door to the inner room -as if to keep her out. Loseis caught her breath in astonishment, and her -eyes fairly blazed on the man. - -“Stand aside, dog of a redskin!” she cried. “This is my father’s house, -and Gault is only a guest here at my pleasure!” - -To the terrified Indian it seemed as if the little figure had grown a -foot. He slunk aside, and Loseis went into her father’s room, closing -the door after her. - -Upon her first glance at the desk it was apparent to her that Gault had -stolen a march on her; though she did not immediately understand the -significance of what he had done. The desk was a handsome piece after -the Colonial style made by Blackburn himself. It had four drawers below, -and a flap which lifted down to form the writing table. The drawers and -the flap alike were fastened shut by strips of papers, caught down by -clots of sealing wax. Going closer Loseis saw that the wax had been -impressed with Gault’s ring. - -Loseis smiled bitterly. Her first impulse was to tear open these flimsy -seals; but she held her hand. No; the damage was already done; if -anything had been abstracted, how was she to know? Better to keep Gault -in ignorance of the fact that she had been there. She did not believe -that Etzooah would tell him, unless it occurred to Gault to question -him. A Slavi never volunteers any information to a white man. The upshot -was that Loseis turned around, and went home. - -The invitation to supper was repeated later. When Gault came over it was -a changed Loseis who greeted him. Her uncertainty was gone. Danger -stimulated her; all her faculties were sharpened. She had put on one of -her prettiest dresses; her dark eyes sparkled with topaz lights; and she -gave Gault smile for smile. The trader was charmed. She is coming -’round, he thought; I knew she would. - -Moale saw deeper. His inscrutable eyes followed Loseis with a new -respect. Moale served his master very faithfully, but he was like the -Slavis in one respect; he never volunteered any information. - -Supper was quite a jolly occasion. Loseis listened attentively to -Gault’s stories; and was prompt with her applause. The trader visibly -expanded; and Moale’s expression as he watched him became even more -sardonic than usual. During the course of the meal, Loseis said with an -innocent air: - -“Mr. Gault, all my father’s papers are in that desk in your room. Will -you go over everything with me to-morrow, and explain it.” - -He wagged a protesting hand in her direction. “No, no, no,” he said; -“nothing must be touched until the lawyer comes.” - -“That cannot be for weeks yet,” said Loseis, “and in the meantime I am -curious to . . .” - -“I have sealed the desk,” said Gault. - -“Sealed my father’s desk?” said Loseis, opening her eyes wide. - -“My dear girl, consider my position,” he said. “I am an interested party -in these matters—or at least I will be so considered; and I have to -lean over backwards in the effort to avoid anything which would look -like taking an unfair advantage. Imagine my feelings upon retiring that -first night, when I found myself alone in the room with all the private -papers of my late rival in business! I was shocked; shocked. If the desk -had been locked, and the key in your possession it would have been all -right; but upon trying it—for my own protection, I found that it was -open. Fortunately Moale was in the kitchen. I instantly called him in, -and sealed up the desk in his presence.” - -“Why didn’t you let me know?” asked Loseis. - -“It was late. You had retired.” - -“Why didn’t you speak of it next day?” - -“I never thought of it. It is customary when a man dies to seal up his -papers until his attorney can take charge. I did it as a matter of -course.” - -“Perhaps his papers are not there after all,” said Loseis. - -“Perhaps not,” said Gault, with a seeming open look. “I only moved the -cover with my thumb for about a quarter of an inch to find out if it was -locked. I know no more than the man in the moon what the desk contains.” - -Loseis lowered her eyes. What a fool he must think me! she -thought—well, it is just as well that he should think me a fool. - -“Did Blackburn possess a safe?” asked Gault. - -“No,” said Loseis. “Nobody ever stole anything from my father.” - -“I wish I could say the same,” said Gault ruefully. He went on to tell -the story of the Scotch half-breed who had brought a black fox skin to -his post to trade, and had then replaced it with a clumsy imitation, -almost under the trader’s nose. It appeared that he had worked the trick -in turn at every post on the big river; but was apprehended at Fort -McMaster on his way out. Loseis, smiling at the story, permitted Gault -to suppose that it had caused her to forget the sealed desk. - -After the meal, Gault sent Moale away on a manifestly trumped-up errand. -Loseis was not sorry to see him go. She was a little afraid of his -unchanging, watchful gaze. He never spoke unless he were addressed. As -for Gault, it was curious that now she knew he was her enemy, she no -longer dreaded to be left alone with him. - -She drew up the hammock-chair to the fire. “You must take this chair -to-night,” she said. “And light one of your delicious cigars. . . . -There,” she said presently, “that is just like the happy nights when my -father came to sit with me.” - -Gault’s smile became a little bleak. He didn’t want to be regarded as a -father. He stole a look at Loseis to see if this could be an intentional -dig; but her face expressed only an innocent pleasure in seeing him -comfortable. - -She perched herself on one of the straight-backed chairs beside him, -with her heels cocked up on the rungs. “Have you ever been married, Mr. -Gault?” she asked. - -“No,” said the trader, a little uncertain as to what was coming next. - -“Why not?” asked Loseis. - -“Well,” said he, looking noble, “I could not bear to expose the kind of -woman that I wished to marry to my rude life in the wilderness.” - -“How lonely you must have been!” murmured Loseis. - -Gault felt reassured. This was the sort of talk a man had the right to -expect from a white woman. He settled himself for a comfortable heart to -heart talk by the fire. “Ah, yes,” he said with a far-away look; “I have -had my bitter times! People call me a hard man; they do not know! They -do not know!” - -The corners of Loseis’ mouth twitched demurely. “Tell me all about -yourself,” she murmured. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - HEAVENLY MUSIC - - -At noon of the fourth day after his setting-out, Gault’s messenger -returned from Fort Good Hope driving several laden pack-horses before -him. The horses were unpacked at the door of Blackburn’s House, and the -goods carried in. From their windows opposite, Loseis and the four Marys -full of curiosity, watched and speculated on the contents of the various -packages. The natural consequence of Blackburn’s having forbidden all -traffic across the height of land was that Fort Good Hope loomed in the -imagination of his people as a sort of fabulous place. Anything might -come from there. - -By and by Gault was seen coming across the grass accompanied by a breed -with a canvas duffle bag over his shoulder. - -“More presents for you!” cried Mary-Lou clasping her hands. - -Loseis permitted all the girls to be present while the bag was unpacked. -Gault disregarded them. Thrusting his arm into the bag, he produced the -various articles with a tender and proprietary smile upon Loseis. The -Princess at such a moment was like any other young thing; breathless -with anticipation, all her difficulties and dangers forgotten. First -came several packages of novels, and an exclamation of pleasure escaped -her. Novels had been forbidden her; and she had had no more than -tantalizing tastes of their contents in the installments appearing in -the magazines which drifted to Blackburn’s Post from time to time. Next -came boxes of chocolates and other candies specially packed in tin. Next -bottles of perfumes of various sorts, and boxes of strongly-scented -soaps. As soon as Gault was out of the way, Loseis distributed these -amongst her hand-maids. Next a box of elegant writing paper; pink, with -gold edges. - -“For you to write to me upon when I am gone,” said Gault with his fond -smile. - -(May that be soon! thought Loseis.) Aloud she said: “How pretty!” - -The most astonishing present came, as was most fitting, from the bottom -of the bag. From a little card-board box Gault took a shining nickel -cube, having a sort of cup at one end, covered with glass. When you -pressed a spring in the cube, light most miraculously appeared behind -the glass. Loseis took it gingerly in her hands, gazing at it with wide -and wondering eyes. The four red girls drew back, a little afraid. - -“Of course you can’t get the full effect of it until dark,” said Gault. - -“This is the electric light of which I have read,” said Loseis in a -hushed voice. “How strange and beautiful!” - -“There’s a box of extra batteries when it gives out,” said the trader. - -Batteries meant nothing to Loseis. The gleaming torch had laid a spell -upon her imagination. She switched it on and off. How strange, how -strange this little light that she summoned and dismissed with a touch -of her finger, like a fairy servant! - -“If you went through the Slavi village some night with that in your hand -it would create a sensation,” said Gault laughing. - -His laughter jarred on Loseis. “No use frightening them for nothing,” -she said. “I might need it some time.” - -In the beginning it would have irked Loseis very much to receive these -presents from Gault, but now she felt no qualms. He is counting on -getting it back many times over, she thought. - -During the course of the afternoon, Loseis and her girls were astonished -to see Gault’s men climbing to the roof of Blackburn’s House. Alongside -the chimney they affixed a tall pole. When it was up, wires were strung -from it to the top of the flagpole in the middle of the little plaza. -Loseis’ curiosity could no longer contain itself. She went across to ask -what they were doing. - -“Wait until to-night,” said Gault, smiling. “You are dining with me -to-night. Afterwards there is to be a surprise.” - -That dinner was full of new things for Loseis. A crowning touch was -supplied by a potted geranium in the center of the table, bearing three -scarlet blossoms. Never before had that flower bloomed at Blackburn’s -Post. A cry of admiration broke from Loseis. - -“The parson’s sister sent it to you with her compliments,” said the -trader. “She has them blooming all winter in her parlor.” - -Loseis’ heart suddenly went out to this unknown sister of her own color. -“What is she like?” she asked shyly. - -“Oh, just what you’d expect a parson’s sister to be,” he said -indifferently. - -The food was strange to Loseis; but for the most part highly agreeable. -First there was a queer, spicy soup. Mulligatawney, Gault called it, and -Loseis laughed at the ridiculous-sounding word. It must have come out of -a can, she reflected. This was followed by a great roast of beef which -is extraordinarily esteemed as an article of food up North, simply -because it is so hard to come by. (“A steer was slaughtered at Fort Good -Hope expressly for you,” said Gault to Loseis with a bow.) With the -roast beef were served potatoes and stewed tomatoes, both novel dishes -at Blackburn’s Post. For dessert came on a plum pudding, likewise out of -a can; and this Loseis considered the best thing she had ever tasted. -There were, besides, small dishes containing olives which the guest did -not like; and salted almonds which she did. - -Pride forbade Loseis to betray any further curiosity concerning the -“surprise” but with every mouthful she took, she was thrillingly -conscious of an oblong box that rested on a small table at the side of -the room, covered by a cloth. That must be the surprise of course. It -had a most exciting shape. - -After the table had been cleared, Gault sought to tease her, by lighting -up his cigar in leisurely fashion, while he talked of indifferent -matters. But he didn’t get any change out of Loseis, who sat quietly -with her hands in her lap, looking at the fire. - -Finally he said: “Wouldn’t you like to know what is under that cloth?” - -“Whenever you are ready,” said Loseis politely. - -Gault laughed, and jerked the cloth away. Loseis beheld a beautiful box -of a polished red wood, having in the front of it several curious black -knobs with indicators and dials above them. The whole apparatus was -suggestive of magic. Gault began to turn the knobs, and Loseis, holding -her breath, prepared herself for anything to happen; red and green -flames perhaps, with a Jinn springing up in the middle. - -When it came, it let her down suddenly from that awful suspense. It was -not startling at all, but sweet. Music mysteriously filled the room, -coming, not from that box, but from an unknown source. It melted the -heart with its sweetness. It resembled the music of a violin with which -Loseis was familiar, but infinitely fuller and richer, with strange, -deep undertones that caused delicious shivers to run up the girl’s -spine. - -“Oh, what is it? What is it?” she murmured. - -“Music from Heaven,” said Gault grinning. - -For a moment she believed him. Closing her eyes, she gave herself up to -the entrancing sounds. It was too beautiful, too beautiful to be of this -earth. Yet it was not strange; it seemed like something she had always -been waiting for; it satisfied a longing. It caused her to think of her -father and of her lover. The thoughts of death and of love became -intermingled in her mind, intolerably sweet and bitter. The tears -swelled under her eyelids. - -Then Gault destroyed the spell that he himself had evoked. “It’s coming -through fine, to-night,” he remarked to Moale. “No interference.” - -Loseis dropped down to earth. A recollection came to her. “It is the -radio,” she said quietly. “I have read of that, too.” - -It was a music of many voices, now loud, now soft; one voice then -another spoke above them all; then all were raised together. Shrill, -merry voices running up and down like laughter; voices as plaintive as -the laughter of loons at dusk; deep, sonorous voices that suggested -courage and endurance. Loseis tried in vain to pick out the tune. It had -a meaning; but one could not grasp it. It was like listening to the -whole world. - -“What makes such music?” she whispered. - -“Orchestra,” he said. - -Loseis had met with this word in books; but she did not know the -meaning. She would not ask. - -“A whole crowd of instruments together,” said Gault. “Little fiddles, -medium size fiddles, and big fiddles; wooden horns and brass horns of -every size and shape; and a row of drums.” - -“Where is it coming from?” she asked. - -“From the station in Calgary.” - -Loseis was lifted up on the wings of wonder again. From Calgary! A -thousand miles away! She visualized the long ten miles ride to the Lake; -and tried to imagine a hundred times ten miles. It was too much; the -mind could not take it in. She thought of the night outside, and -suddenly it became clear to her why the silence of Northern nights was -so profoundly disturbing. It was not a silence at all; the night was -full of these voices from all over the world, winging through the sky, -and the heart was sensible to them, though the ears were deaf. - -“How do you do it? How do you do it?” murmured Loseis. - -“Oh, it would take old Marconi to explain that,” said the trader -laughing. - -Ah! will Paul and I ever listen to such music together? thought Loseis. - -The music came to an end. After a pause a man began to speak. This -affected Loseis even more strangely than the music. A man speaking to -them in a quiet, friendly voice, as if he was there beside them! And he -was not there. A spirit was amongst them without its body. Awe gripped -Loseis. She shivered, and looked over her shoulder. Gault watching her, -chuckled, and she shrank sharply into herself again. - -The man was giving a humorous account of how he went with his wife to -buy a hat. He spoke of the crowds of people in the streets, and the -gayly decorated shop windows. Loseis was too much filled with wonder of -the voice to pay heed to the story. He said: “I met her at the Palliser -Hotel this afternoon.” Yet he was a thousand miles away! He said: “I -took her into the restaurant, and when she said she wasn’t hungry, I -prepared myself for the worst.” Gault and Moale laughed, and Loseis -looked at them in surprise. A thousand miles! A thousand miles. - -It was a jolly, friendly voice that reassured the child’s heart of -Loseis. And it was clear that he was speaking to others whom he knew to -be as honest and kind as himself. Loseis had a sudden vision of the -populous, kindly world lying outside, and her breast yearned over it. -The friendly voice seemed to bring her so close, to admit her to that -world. But a realization of her loneliness swept over her. There was -that thousand miles of prairie, muskeg and forest lying between. Alone! -Alone! worse than alone, for she was hedged about with false and lying -men who wished her ill. Ah! If she could only communicate with the -honest people, they would not let her come to harm. Drawn quite out of -herself, Loseis rose to her feet, stretching out her arms. - -“Oh, if I could only speak to him!” she murmured. - -Gault laughed heartily. “That would require a whole transmitting -station,” he said. “Quite a different matter from getting it.” - -Loseis dropped back in her chair. She glanced at the trader with -involuntary dislike. What a coarse animal under his fine manners! she -thought. - -When the concert came to an end, Gault said: “To-morrow night, we’ll get -the Slavis into the kitchen, and spring it on them,” he said laughing. -“Lordy! what a scatteration there will be!” - -Loseis got up to go. “You will do what you like, of course,” she said -coldly. “But do not expect me to come.” - -“But why?” asked the surprised Gault. - -“It’s a beautiful, wonderful thing,” said Loseis, looking wistfully at -the red box. “I should not care to see it made a mock of.” - -“Oh, well, in that case,” said Gault quickly, “no Slavis! I brought this -over solely to give you pleasure, Princess!” - - - - - CHAPTER IX - AN UPSET - - -Gault and Moale were breakfasting in the men’s house. - -“How about the fur here?” asked Moale. - -“All in good time,” said his master. - -“Have you got the key to the warehouse?” - -“Yes. But of course I have to make out that it’s sealed up in the desk.” - -“I don’t see what you expect to gain by that bit of flummery,” said -Moale. - -“No?” said Gault sarcastically. “I am keeping the girl out of her -father’s papers, am I not? . . . I know what I am doing. Suppose some -one should come in here? Everything would be found in order; Blackburn’s -will, his accounts, his letters. I have taken nothing, because there was -nothing I wanted; it was sufficient for me to read it all.” - -“What was in his will?” said Moale curiously. - -“Oh, he left everything to the girl, of course. That doesn’t signify -anything, because if there was no will, the courts would award it to her -anyway.” - -“Well, I’d like fine to have a look at that fur,” said Moale with -glittering eyes. Fur was his passion. If he had other passions, he kept -them hid. - -“You are to keep away from the warehouse for the present,” said Gault -peremptorily. - -“I have read the inventory,” said Moale. “There are ten black fox skins -of the first quality. I have never seen so many at one time. Those alone -will bring from a thousand to fifteen hundred each. Besides the silver -and the cross foxes; the mink, otter and fisher. The whole lot is worth -well above a hundred thousand at present prices.” - -“Quite that,” said Gault. “But I’m playing for a bigger stake, and I -don’t intend to jeopardize it by making any premature move.” - -“How much is the girl worth?” asked Moale slyly. - -“I don’t know,” said the other coolly. - -Moale lowered his eyes; he knew very well that Gault was lying; but did -not care to let him see that he knew. Presently he said: “The news of -Blackburn’s death will be all over by now. That fool Etzooah let it out -at our post before I could stop his mouth. And Conacher carried the news -north with him.” - -“I had no thought of keeping it secret,” said Gault. - -“How about Gruber, then? If you keep him waiting too long at the -Crossing, he’s likely to come down here to see what’s up.” - -“I’ve written to Gruber telling him that if he will wait a few weeks, -I’ll send him the fur as soon as I can arrange matters.” - -“Maybe that letter won’t satisfy him.” - -“Well, if he comes he shall have the fur. It will be a good way of -getting him away from here again.” - -“I should hate to see that fur get out of our hands,” said Moale. -“That’s real; that’s the goods! Whereas the other thing . . .” He -shrugged. - -“You’re a fool,” said Gault contemptuously. “The girl is all but ready -to drop into my arms. All I need is a little time.” - -Moale looked down at his plate again. - -In spite of the confidence that Gault had expressed, this conversation -brought forward the little worrying anxiety that lingered in the back of -his mind. Here were the days passing one after another, and could it be -honestly said that he was making progress with Loseis? Sometimes he was -sure he was—sometimes not so sure. She was such a baffling creature; at -one moment as open and easily moved as a child and the next moment -revealing a maturity of mind and an originality that startled him. At -other times she was as provoking and secretive as an Indian. To be sure -of late she had been generally friendly, even sympathetic; but try as he -would, he could not get their relations on the man and woman plane, the -plane of courtship. Loseis eluded him like a sprite. - -In his heart Gault cursed the time that must be wasted in wooing a -civilized miss. They managed such things better in a simpler state of -society, when the girl would have been hit over the head, and dragged -off without more ado. Women have never really become civilized, he -thought; they need to be beaten still. Well, having an eye to the -outside world, he could not actually do this, but should he not apply -the principle? Perhaps he had been too gentle, too considerate a wooer. -That only set her up in her own opinion. It was ridiculous to suppose -that a mere slip of a girl who didn’t know her own mind could resist a -mature and strong-willed man like himself. The time had come for him to -overbear her by the mere force of his personality. She would thank him -for it in the end. A Loseis, humbled and loving; Ah! what a seductive -picture! - -Gault had his horse brought, and mounting, rode across to the Women’s -House, well aware that he appeared to the best advantage on a horse. He -knocked at the door without dismounting, and when Loseis appeared, she -was obliged to look up at him, proudly holding his seat, and making -believe to soothe his horse, while secretly fretting him with his off -heel. But no light of admiration appeared in Loseis’ clear eyes. She -took horsemanship as a matter of course. - -“Will you ride up to the lake with me?” asked Gault. “I have grub for -two. I think you ought to show yourselves to the Slavis just to remind -them that you are the mistress here.” - -Loseis cocked an eye at the sky. It was like an inverted bowl of palest -turquoise. “Surely!” she cried. “I’m longing for a ride. Give me five -minutes to change my skirt.” - -Mary-Rose was sent running to fetch Loseis’ horse. - -Loseis and her horse appeared simultaneously. This was the first time -that Gault had beheld the girl’s riding costume. It comprised Strathcona -boots; breeches; a blue flannel shirt; and a flat-brimmed man’s hat set -crookedly on one side of her head. The shirt was open at the neck, and -under the collar she had knotted a gay red and yellow kerchief. She -turned up her face to the sky, all open, drinking in the light with joy; -and Gault, observing her hair, softer and blacker than anything else in -Nature, the tender brilliance of her eyes, and her flower-petal lips, -felt a pain like a needle go through his breast, and lost his sense of -mastery. - -He thought: The devil is in it, that she is able to hurt me so! She must -never be allowed to suspect her power. - -Loseis vaulted on her horse. They trotted down the rise, and passing -between the tepees, splashed through the small stream. Clawing their way -up the further bank, their horses broke into a gallop in the clean -grass. Summer had pronounced her benediction on the North, and the world -was like a freshly painted picture. Loseis, who was ahead, sang out: - -“Oh, what a day for a ride!” To herself she added: “If that was Conacher -pounding along behind, I should be the happiest girl alive!” - -Their way led more or less close to the river. There were but two horse -trails leaving Blackburn’s Post; that to Fort Good Hope, and this one -which, after circling the easterly shore of Blackburn’s Lake, struck -south to the distant rendezvous near the Crossing. Rich bottom lands -alternated with occasional gravelly ridges to be crossed. Conversation -was impossible; for horses trained to the trail will not travel abreast; -however Gault, knowing that they would be out all day, was content to -bide his time. - -Descending into a lush meadow, already fetlock deep in grass, Loseis -clapped heels to her horse, and set off, yelling like an Indian. Her -sorrel mare laid her ears back and went like the wind. She would have -yelled too if she could. The sight brought that needle-pain back to -Gault’s breast, by reminding him that his day for yelling and running -was forever past. - -In another meadow they came upon a herd of horses quietly feeding, and -Loseis paused to look them over. These were the broken horses kept on -this side, while the wild horses ranged across the river. Blackburn on -the day he was killed, had been engaged in rounding up these horses to -take out the fur. - -When they rode up on top of the ridge which formed the cut-bank known as -Swallow Bend, all Loseis’ gayety was quenched. She slipped out of her -saddle, and without speaking, handed her rein to Gault to hold. Creeping -to the edge of the bank, she looked over. In the gravelly stuff below -she could easily follow the marks where the horses had first struck, and -then rolled down into the water. A wild regret filled her heart, and her -tears ran fast. - -They were still falling when she returned to Gault, and silently -received her rein. Her grief was as natural and spontaneous as her -gayety had been an hour before. The ageing man bit his lip and cursed -her in his heart for being so beautiful. - -Just below the lake they forded the main stream through a brawling -shallow rapid, the Slavi village being on the other side. Scores of -tepees rose here, as well as several log shacks built in imitation of -the white man for winter use. Their coming was beheld from afar, and a -tremendous commotion arose in the village; the news was shrieked from -tepee to tepee. Upon their entrance a dead silence fell; and the Slavis, -like school children all adopted a look of vacant stupidity as a cover -for their embarrassment. Loseis did not dismount; but rode up and down, -speaking to this one and that. - -Tatateecha, the head man of all the Slavis came to her stirrup. He was a -round little man, distinguished amongst all the tribe by his fleshiness. -The responsibilities of headship had given him more steadiness of -character too, but not much more. Loseis did not hold him accountable -for the excesses at the Post. Tatateecha made a flowery speech of -welcome to Loseis; and another to Gault. - -“You are wasting your breath,” remarked Loseis. “He does not understand -your tongue.” - -“Is he the trader now?” asked Tatateecha slyly. - -“No!” said Loseis with a flash of her eyes. “He is my guest. . . . Do -you wish to trade with him?” she added. - -“No! No!” said Tatateecha earnestly. “He has the name of a hard trader. -They tell me that the people at Fort Good Hope are always poor.” - -“Very well, then,” said Loseis. “Serve me, and I will deal with you -justly and fairly as my father did. You never knew want when he was -alive.” - -Tatateecha’s eyes twinkled. To be talking in this manner under the very -nose of the proud Gault appealed to the Slavi sense of humor. - -“This man wishes me ill,” Loseis went on. “He would take my post from -me. I look to you and your people to be my friends, and help me to keep -what is my own.” - -Tatateecha in his redskin style swore fealty. Unfortunately he was not -to be trusted far. - -“I have another thing to say,” Loseis went on. “The man who fetched this -man into our country—I do not name him because this man would hear me; -you know the man I mean. That false person is this person’s spy, so -beware how you open your hearts to him. I have finished.” - -Loseis and Gault rode on. They left Tatateecha looking rather scared, -but Loseis told herself that at least her speaking to him would do no -harm. - -“What were you talking about?” asked Gault. - -“Oh, he was apologizing for the way his people behaved in the store, and -I was telling him it had better not happen again,” said Loseis -carelessly. - -Beyond the village the land rose to a low bluff which commanded a -prospect of the lake. Here they turned out their horses, and sat down in -the grass to eat. After the pleasant, diversified country they had -ridden through, an astonishing panorama met their eyes. The whole earth -suddenly flattened out. They were upon the only bit of high ground that -approached the lake. In front of them a sea of water and a sea of grass -stretched to the horizon; and it was impossible to say where the one -ended and the other began. On either hand in the far distance ran the -bordering hills. The only thing there was in sight to break that -tremendous flatness was a flock of wild swans a mile or more away, -fluttering their wings in the sun. - -When they had satisfied their hunger, Gault bethought himself that it -was time to take a firm tone with Loseis. He said bluntly: - -“Do you know, you’re a damn pretty girl.” - -He prepared himself for an explosion; but Loseis surprised him again. - -“Of course I know it,” she said coolly; looking at him with a slanting -smile. - -“How do you know it? You’ve never seen any white girls.” - -“Oh, one knows such things anyhow,” she said shrugging. - -“Has any man ever told you?” demanded Gault. - -“No,” said Loseis, clear-eyed as the sky; but thinking of Conacher -nevertheless. - -“Well, I’m telling you,” said Gault. - -“Thanks,” said Loseis with a quick smile. - -The smile annoyed the trader. It seemed to express something other than -gratitude. “Do you know what they sometimes call me?” he asked. - -Loseis shook her head. - -“Kid-Glove Gault. An allusion to my manner, of course. Everybody knows -that it conceals an iron hand. I have been through a hard school, and I -have come out hard. I choose to be courteous because I despise those who -surround me. I have taught myself to stand alone.” - -Loseis became very uncomfortable. Why does he tell me all this? she -thought. - -“Look at me!” he said peremptorily. - -She shook her head, pressing her lips together. If I did, I should burst -out laughing in his face, she thought. - -Gault was not ill-pleased by her refusal. It seemed to testify to his -power. “There is another side to my nature,” he went on, “which I have -never revealed to a living soul. All the softer feelings which other men -scatter in a hundred directions I have saved up for one!” - -Mercy! ejaculated Loseis to herself. - -“But it is not to be given lightly,” said Gault. “I am a proud, jealous, -and violent man. I may be led by one whom I trust, but never driven. I -shall never let down my guard until I am assured that the one I have -chosen is worthy . . .” - -This sort of talk put Loseis on pins and needles—she could not have -told why. Her body twitched, and her face was all drawn up in a knot of -comical distaste. She kept her head averted from Gault. Oh, if he would -_only_ stop! she was saying to herself. - -“. . . of my confidence,” he went on; “such is my character. I am not -trying to excuse it. I have long been indifferent to both praise and -blame. The woman who places her hand in mine must . . .” - -Loseis could stand no more. Springing to her feet, she ran back towards -the place where the horses were grazing. - -“Excuse me a moment,” she called over her shoulder. “I must water my -horse.” - -Gault with a black face had sprung up to follow her. But he checked -himself. That would be _too_ ludicrous for one of his years and dignity. -Besides, she could probably run faster than he. He ground his teeth with -rage. “A coquette!” he muttered. “By God! I’ll tame her!” - -All the way home he glowered at her back, but Loseis could not see that. - -After supper she went across to hear the radio concert in some -trepidation; but Gault received her with his usual smooth and -well-controlled face; and she felt relieved. He treated her with the -most exquisite courtesy. This high manner may have concealed terrible -fires within; but Loseis was not worrying about that. She gave herself -up to the music. - -After it was over, Gault walked home with her. That rare day had been -succeeded by a still rarer night. Low in the southerly sky hung a great -round moon. Measured by the standards of southerly latitudes, the moon -behaves very eccentrically up there. After describing a short arc across -the southern sky, she would go down in an hour or so not far from where -she had risen. In the meantime she held the world in a breathless spell -of beauty. In that magical light the rude buildings of the Post created -a picture of old romance. There was a silvery bloom upon the grass; and -the velvety black shadows suggested unutterable meanings that caught at -the heart. The shadow of Gault’s house reached almost to Loseis’ door. - -They paused there; and Loseis looked around her with a tight breast. (Is -he somewhere under this moon thinking of me?) “This is the night of the -whole year!” she said. - -“Well, we are free, white, and twenty-one,” said Gault. “Why go to bed? -. . . The best place to see moonlight is on the river. Come out in a -canoe with me for an hour.” - -Loseis’ intuition warned her not to go—but one does not always listen -to one’s intuitions. She was tempted. He can’t do any more than talk, -she thought; I guess I can stand it. I shall be looking at the -moonlight, and thinking of the other one. “Very well,” she said. - -“Go in and get a coat,” he said. “I’ll come back for you in two -minutes.” - -He hastened back to his own kitchen. One of his Crees was sent down to -the creek mouth to find a canoe. Of the others, one played a banjo and -all could sing the old-fashioned songs that are still current in the far -North. These were stationed on a bench outside the kitchen door with -orders to sing, _not loud_. After all there was something magnificent -about Gault. In his dark way he had imagination. But he was fifty-three -years old! - -When they got down to the water’s edge the Cree was holding the canoe -for them to step into. By Gault’s orders he had chosen not one of the -usual bark canoes of the Slavis which are little more than paper boats, -but a dug-out of which there were several lying in the creek. These -heavier and roomier craft are however, no more stable than the others. -Loseis perceived that a nest of blankets and pillows had been arranged -for her in the bottom. - -“Oh, I like to paddle,” she said. - -“Give me the pleasure of looking at you in the moonlight,” murmured -Gault. - -Again Loseis felt strong compunctions; but it seemed too ridiculous to -back out then; especially with the Indian looking on. She got in; and -Gault, taking his place in the stern, paddled out into the main stream. - -Heading the canoe down river, he allowed it to drift. That brought -Loseis reclining under his eyes in the full shine of the moon; while he, -sitting up on the thwart, was blackly silhouetted against the light. -Presumably it was very lovely on the river—Loseis observed how the face -of the water seemed to be powdered with moon-dust; and at any other time -her heart would have been melted by the distant strumming of the banjo, -and the muted voices; but now it was all spoiled for her by that -silhouette. How could she think of Conacher while the other man’s eyes -were boring into her. She was sorry she had come. She became sorrier -when Gault began to speak. - -“You are beautiful!” he said in a masterful voice. “I want you!” - -At first Loseis was only conscious of astonishment. - -“Want me?” she echoed blankly. - -“To-morrow I shall send over to my Post for the parson,” he went on, -coolly. “He may bring his sister with him to attend upon you. We shall -be married in your house. It will be more fitting.” - -Loseis was literally struck dumb. She sat up straight, trying to peer -into the shadowy face that was almost invisible to her, her mouth -hanging open like a child’s. - -Gault laughed fondly. “Do not look so frightened,” he murmured. “I will -take good care of you . . . little sweetheart.” - -A little strained note of laughter was surprised out of the girl. The -last word sounded so funny, shaped by those stiff old lips. - -Gault ascribed it to nerves. It did not put him off at all. “As soon as -we are married,” he went on. “Let us take advantage of the Summer season -to make a trip outside. A handsome spirited girl like you will enjoy -seeing the cities. You shall have everything that your heart desires. -And we will be able to attend to the business of your father’s estate. I -don’t mean places like Edmonton or Calgary. What would you say to New -York . . . London?” - -As he talked on a chill of terror struck to Loseis’ breast. He seemed so -very sure of himself! The fond, elderly voice made her feel like a -little girl again. “Do I _have to_ marry him?” she asked herself, -trembling. - -The river was very high. The muddy borders which would show themselves -later, were now completely covered. The overhanging willows trailed -their branches in deep water. Without noticing it, they had drifted -close to the easterly shore. - -Gault’s ardor increased. He dropped forward in the bottom of the -dug-out, and crept closer to Loseis. Putting a hand down on either side -of her for support and balance, he strained towards her. Loseis got a -hateful whiff of the scented breath again. - -“Seal it with a kiss, sweetheart,” he murmured. - -Loseis’ blood rebelled, and all uncertainty left her. She was no longer -the child, but an aroused woman. She wriggled her body further forward -in the dug-out, out of his reach. - -“Easy! Easy!” he cried sharply; “or you’ll have us over!” - -“Marry you!” cried Loseis with a burst of clear laughter that flayed him -raw. “You ugly old man! The husband I have chosen is not like you!” - -Gault drew in his breath with a moan of rage; and, careless of the -danger, began to creep towards her. At that instant a willow branch -brushed against the girl’s hair. Springing up, Loseis embraced a whole -mass of the leaves within her arms, and swung herself out. Under the -violent propulsion of her body, the narrow craft rolled over in a -twinkling, and Gault was precipitated into the water. - -Loseis sank into the icy water up to her neck, and hung there, dangling -from her branches. For a moment there was silence; then Gault’s head -emerged from the river, and the night was shattered by a roar for help. -Loseis saw him seize the canoe, and knew that he was in no danger of -drowning. He was no more than twenty feet from her, but drifting away on -the current. - -Loseis worked her way along her slender branches, to thicker branches, -and finally gained a footing on firm ground. Gault, drifting downstream -continued to roar for help. Making her way across the flat below the -Post, Loseis met Moale, and the Crees running in response to their -master’s cries. The Slavi village was in an uproar. - -“Gault is in the river,” said Loseis coolly. “He’s in no danger. Get -canoes and go after him.” - -Reaching her own house Loseis found the terror-stricken girls huddled in -a group. At the sight of her drenched clothing, Mary-Lou clasped her -hands tragically. - -“What has happened?” she gasped. - -Loseis did not answer her immediately, but only leaned back against the -door with widening eyes. For suddenly she had realized what _had_ -happened, and was appalled by the certain consequences. She alone there -with that pack of terrified girls! - -“Bar the door,” she said. “Shutter the windows. We’ll have to stand a -siege now! . . . No, wait!” she cried as they moved to obey her. “We -must have weapons. The men won’t be back for half an hour. I’ll fetch -guns from the store!” - - - - - CHAPTER X - CONTRABAND - - -All night long Loseis and her girls listened in trepidation, but none -approached their house. In the morning, Loseis, disdaining to remain -under cover any longer, sallied out of the house to find Gault, and have -it out with him. Anything was better than uncertainty. - -The trader was at breakfast in the kitchen of the men’s house. Seeing -Loseis at the door, he rose quickly, showing a smooth, composed face, -but with eyes as hard as agate. “Good morning,” he said with extreme -politeness; “I trust that you received no hurt from your ducking last -night. I was coming over directly to inquire. How inexcusably careless -of me! I shall never forgive myself!” - -Loseis waved all this aside. “I should like a few words with you,” she -said as politely as he. - -“Please come in,” said Gault. He indicated the inner room. - -“I would be glad if you would step outside,” said Loseis. - -“Certainly!” - -They walked away from the door, followed by the sharp, secret glances of -the Crees. Gault rubbed his upper lip. Under the mask he wore, an -uneasiness made itself felt. Certainly he had not expected Loseis to -look him up, nor could he guess what was coming. - -She wasted no words in coming to the point. “When you heard of my -father’s death you hastened over here to help me, you said. If your -intentions were good, I thank you.” - -“Do you doubt it?” asked Gault sharply. - -She spread out her hands. “What difference does that make now? Whether -you wished to help me or not it would be impossible under the present -circumstances.” She paused for a moment. It required a strong nerve to -say this to Andrew Gault. “I must therefore ask you to leave the Post as -soon as possible.” - -There was a silence. Gault stared at her incredulously. In spite of his -iron self-control a blackish flush spread under his skin. Infernal -passions were raging under his mask. But he fought them down. He said -nothing. He fell back a step, that Loseis could not see his face without -turning squarely around. - -“Well?” she said sharply. “Have you nothing to say?” - -“What is there to say?” he murmured. - -“You could refuse to go,” said Loseis proudly. “If you refused to go, of -course I could not make you.” - -“I could not refuse,” said Gault with a sort of hollow reverberation of -his usual full and courteous tones. “You put me in an extraordinarily -difficult position. I do not think you should be left alone here; but of -course I cannot stay.” - -“I shall manage very well,” said Loseis. - -“I am sorry you think so badly of me,” said Gault. - -“Oh, I shall not think badly of you, if you will only leave me alone,” -said Loseis quickly. “I shall always be grateful to you!” - -Silence again. Gault literally ground his teeth. After awhile he was -able to say: “You are mixing up two things together.” - -“You are mistaken,” said Loseis. “The two things are quite separate in -my mind. I have had all night to think them over.” - -“Do you wish me to leave Mr. Moale here to assist you?” he asked. - -“No, thank you,” said Loseis firmly. “Furthermore, I should be greatly -obliged if you would carry Etzooah back with you.” - -For the fraction of a second the flames broke through Gault’s mask. -“Suppose you needed a messenger!” he cried. - -“I should not choose Etzooah to be my messenger,” said Loseis quietly. - -He quickly controlled himself. “Very well,” he said; “we will be off as -soon as we can get our traps together. Say to-morrow morning.” - -“Oh, suit your convenience, of course,” said Loseis politely. - -Gault’s expression changed. His hard eyes turned askance on the girl. -“Upon consideration,” he said, more smoothly than before, “I am sure we -will be able to get away late this afternoon. We can make our first camp -up on the prairie, where we will at least be out of your sight.” - -Loseis bowed; and they parted out in the middle of the little square. - -When Gault re-entered the kitchen of the men’s house, he did not speak. -The expression on his face was frightful to see. One by one the Crees, -making believe to have noticed nothing amiss, slipped outside. Even -Moale did not care to face that look. He sauntered out after the others. -Gault sat down as if to finish his meal; but he touched no food. He -merely sat there with his hands on the edge of the table and his head -lowered, thinking; thinking. - -Finally he rose; and going into Blackburn’s room, coolly produced a key, -with which he opened a wall cupboard. From it he took an earthenware -jug, one of several on the shelves; and locking up the cupboard, carried -the jug back to the kitchen table. Removing the cork, he smelled of the -contents, but did not taste. It was a known thing in the country that -Gault was not a drinking man. He called out to have Etzooah sent to him. - -When the grinning Indian stood before him, Gault said curtly: “This -afternoon, just before supper time, I shall be starting away from here. -You are to come with me.” - -Etzooah nodded. - -“Etzooah,” the trader continued, fixing his burning glance on the man, -“do the Slavis know the taste of whisky?” - -“Wah!” said the Indian, showing his blackened teeth; “Tatateecha know -it. And some of the old men. Twenty-five years ago there was a party of -Klondikers went down this river. They had whisky. They hand it round. -Blackburn had whisky too, but he did not give the people any.” - -“Can you teach the younger men to drink it?” asked Gault with an ugly -smile. - -“Wah!” said Etzooah, with his silent laugh. “No need teach! All know -what whisky is. The story of the white man’s stomach-warming medicine is -often told over the fire.” - -“Good!” said Gault. “When we leave here to-day, you may take them that -jug of Blackburn’s whisky. Let it be carried out of the house with the -other things when we are packing up. Just before we start, you may go -down behind the house, that the white women may not see you, and give it -to Mahtsonza for all. Do not tell them that I sent it. Say that you -found it in Blackburn’s room, and I never missed it, because I am not a -whisky-drinker.” Gault leaned across the table, and lowered his voice. -“And tell them as if not meaning anything by it, that there are four -more jugs in the little cupboard on the wall of Blackburn’s room.” - -“All right,” said Etzooah, grinning still. “What if there is trouble -after?” - -“I’ll take care of that,” said Gault coolly. He had recovered his -self-control. - -“All right. All right,” said Etzooah. - - * * * * * - -During the course of the day, Loseis cast many an anxious glance across -the way. Certain obvious preparations for departure were immediately set -under way; the pole on the roof was taken down, and the wire rolled up -on spools; the pack-horses which had been turned out in the meadow -across the creek, were rounded up, and driven into the corral attached -to Blackburn’s stable. So much done, Gault could have left within an -hour had he chosen, but a long time passed before any further move was -made. - -Finally, towards the end of the afternoon, the Crees began to carry -their bedding rolls out of the kitchen. The horses were led out and -saddled, their packs adjusted, and the hitches thrown. By five o’clock -all was ready for the start. After another wait, Gault came marching -over to the Women’s House. Loseis met him at the door. - -Exhibiting his finest manner, he smiled politely. “I know this must be -disagreeable to you,” he said, “but I thought it better to keep up -appearances before my servants and yours. I have come to say good-by.” - -“I was expecting you,” said Loseis. “I wish to return the various gifts -which you . . .” - -“Oh, no!” said Gault sharply. “Do not put that slight upon me before -these redskins. Surely you have done enough. . . .” - -“Oh,” said Loseis, “if you feel that way about it, it does not matter, -of course.” - -He immediately recovered himself. “Let us appear to take a friendly -good-by of each other.” - -“Surely,” said Loseis. “Perhaps you will take a letter out for me? I -understand that the mail is carried from Fort Good Hope every month.” - -“Charmed!” said Gault. - -She gave him the letter which had been written during the afternoon. It -was addressed to Gruber at the Crossing. She realized that if the first -letters had not been sent out, this one would hardly be allowed to go; -still, it was a chance that must not be neglected. - -Gault, standing hat in hand, said with his polite smile: “I shall give -myself the pleasure of sending over from time to time, until assistance -reaches you from the outside. Though you repudiate it, I still feel -responsible for you.” - -Loseis smiled back—a little quizzically. Is it worth it? her smile -said. - -“Good-by,” said Gault, putting out his hand. - -“Good-by,” said Loseis, letting hers lie within it. - -He strode back to his waiting party, and swung himself into the saddle. -The Crees cried to the pack-horses, and all set off briskly out of the -inclosure, disappearing behind the store. Presently they were to be seen -on the trail above, trotting up the incline; smart, well-found, -arrogant, modeled upon the style of the old Company. Loseis breathed -more freely. To be sure, they were not gone yet, for Gault had said they -would camp for the night on the edge of the prairie. She was not in the -least deceived by his politeness. There would be another night of -anxiety to face, but not so keen as the previous night; for the violence -of his rage must have abated somewhat. Loseis realized that she had not -so much to fear from violence now, as from the man’s cold craft. - -She went into her house. The supper was waiting. The thoughtless red -girls, thinking only that Gault was gone, were all smiles. Loseis had -Mary-Lou to sit down with her at table, in the effort to keep at bay -that ghastly feeling of solitude that crept over her like the coming of -night. Alone! Alone! Alone! And so long before she could hope for -succor! She gave the girls a highly comic account of Gault’s proposal -the night before, laughing loudly herself. Anything to keep the bogies -at bay! - -It was about an hour afterwards when they first began to realize that -something was amiss in the Slavi village. There was an ungodly sound of -singing going on. The Slavis frequently made the twilight hours hideous -with their wordless chanting. Loseis was accustomed to it. To-night it -was different; it had an insane ring; they were burlesquing their own -performance, and screaming with laughter. It was significant too, that -the voices of the women were not to be heard. Loseis scarcely knew what -drunkenness meant, or she would have understood sooner. - -She went to the little window at the end of the room which overlooked -the river flat. Though it was eight o’clock the sun had not yet dropped -out of sight. All the Slavi men were gathered in a rough circle around a -fire on the creek bank. There was no order in the company; some lay -about; some danced with extravagant gestures. The ordinary dance of the -Slavis was a decorous shuffle. The women were nowhere to be seen. Every -moment the scene became more confused, and the yelling louder. - -Leaving the window, Loseis said: “I am going down to see what is the -matter.” - -Mary-Lou flung herself upon her mistress: “No! No! No!” she cried in -despair. - -Loseis was very pale. She firmly detached the clinging hands. “There is -nothing else to be done,” she said simply. “If I do not notice this, my -influence over them is gone!” - -Loseis went sedately down the grassy rise, neither hurrying, nor hanging -back. Her back was straight; her face composed. Her look of proud scorn -lent a strange poignancy to her childishness. Her heart might have been -fluttering like a frightened child’s, but nobody could have guessed it. -Mary-Lou, seeing her face, wept aloud, without knowing what it was that -had moved her so. - -As Loseis came near, the Slavis around the fire fell quiet and still. -Only one of them jumped up, and ran away, carrying something. Loseis -recognized the figure of Mahtsonza. He ran across the stepping-stones of -the creek, and climbed up the further bank. The rest of them were -orderly enough now: but their drunken, swimming eyes and hanging mouths -told a tale. - -Loseis stepped into the middle of the circle. “What means this howling -that beats against my ears?” she demanded. “Are your brains full of ice? -(The Slavi phrase for insanity.) Is this a pack of coyotes or men?” - -None answered her. They merely looked stupid. - -Mahtsonza, a furlong off by this time, and feeling himself safe, turned -around exhibiting the earthenware jug. He insolently turned it up to his -lips. - -Loseis recognized the style of the jug. Her heart sank at the young -man’s act of open defiance; but no muscle of her face changed. “Now I -understand,” she said coldly. “Blackburn’s whisky has been stolen.” - -“No steal,” muttered the man called Ahchoogah. “It was a gift.” - -“Who gave it?” demanded Loseis. - -There was no answer. - -Loseis stepped to the nearest tepee, and stuck her head through the -opening. Within, a crowd of dejected women and children, crouched around -a tiny fire on the ground. - -“Where did they get it?” demanded Loseis. - -A voice answered: “Etzooah brought it.” - -All was clear to Loseis. She sickened with disgust that a man big and -powerful as Gault could stoop to so cowardly a trick. - -Returning to the men she said in a voice of scorn: “Call Mahtsonza back. -Drink what is left. Drink until you lie like rotten logs! When you -return to yourselves you shall be punished!” - -By this she meant that a fine would be entered against each man’s name -on the books. Letting her eyes sweep around the circle as if to fix each -face in her memory, she stepped out of the circle, and returned to her -house without looking back. - -The moment the door closed after her, the yelling broke out again, now -with a clear note of defiance and derision. They wished her to -understand that though they could not face out her strong glance, behind -her back they spat at her. Looking out of the end window she could see -them capering about, indulging like children in an outrageous pantomime -of derision directed towards her house. Loseis quickly turned away. It -was a bitter, bitter dose for her pride to swallow. “They should be -whipped! They should be whipped!” she said, with the tears of anger -springing to her eyes. - -However, she felt a little better when she reflected that there was only -one gallon of whisky between about forty men. It was only because they -were totally unused to the stuff that it had affected them as quickly -and so violently. The effect could not last long. - -As on a former occasion at the suggestion of danger, Loseis found that -the three Slavi girls had quietly vanished. “Let them go!” she said -shrugging. “They would only be in our way.” - -Loseis determined that she and Mary-Lou should sleep in the store. As -long as she could keep them out of the store, she held the whip hand. -When the two of them appeared outside the house, carrying their beds -across the square, jeers and yells greeted them from below. Mary-Lou’s -coppery cheeks turned grayish with fear; but Loseis’ chin went higher. - -“Cowardly dogs!” she said. “If I went down there, their voices would dry -up in their throats.” - -As soon as it began to grow dark, she set the lighted lamp in the window -of the store, to remind the Slavis that she was on guard. - -Shortly afterwards the whole gang swept up into the little square within -the buildings. They all carried branches and sticks; one or two had -lighted brands from the fire below. Yelling and capering like demons, -they piled their fuel in the center of the space, and set fire to it. In -a few seconds the flames were leaping high, illuminating every corner of -the square, and throwing the fantastic leaping shadows of the savages -against the house fronts. Through the little window of the store, Loseis -watched them with a stony face. To bring their orgy within the very -confines of the Post! A hideous chill struck into her breast. If they -dared so far, what might they not dare! - -Soon, like the savages they were, they lost interest in their bonfire. -The noise quieted down somewhat. Loseis ventured to hope that the effect -of the spirit might be beginning to wear off. The jug was not visible. -Presently she noticed that their attention was concentrated on her -father’s house. Some of them were nosing around it like animals; others -stood senselessly trying to peer through the dark panes; near the door a -man was haranguing his fellows, waving his hand towards the house, -Loseis could not hear his words. - -The crowd around the door increased. Finally one ventured to put his -hand on the latch. The door was not locked. It swung inward, and all the -Slavis fell backward in affright. The same man who had opened the door, -crept back on all fours, and sticking his head inside, uttered a -senseless yell. The others shrieked with laughter. Still, they dared not -venture in. They gathered together in a close body outside the door, and -the sound of their jabbering reached Loseis faintly. Suddenly those at -the back began to push, and the first ones were thrust inside. Instantly -they all swept in. With a sickness of the heart, Loseis saw one run back -to the fire, and snatch up a pine branch with a burning end. - -The girl groaned. It affected her like an act of sacrilege. Blackburn -was indeed dead when these miserable savages feared not to overrun his -house. She expected to see his private papers scattered out of the door; -she waited for the house to burst into flames. - -However, destruction was not their present aim. They reappeared almost -immediately, yelling in triumph. He who came first held another jug -aloft; and others followed; Loseis counted: two . . . three . . . four! -Her chin went down on her breast. Well . . . this is the end, she -thought. - -Mary-Lou had seen, too. “Quick! we must go!” she gasped. “They will kill -now! Quick! through the little window at the back!” - -Loseis slowly shook her head. “No! You can go. I stay. As long as I am -here they will not dare to enter the store.” - -“Look! Look!” cried Mary-Lou. “What they care now? They will kill you!” - -“Maybe,” said Loseis somberly; “but I will not run from Slavis. You go.” - -Mary-Lou dropped to her knees, and hid her face in Loseis’ skirt. “No! -No!” she whispered. “I never leave you.” - -Pandemonium had broken loose outside. Some had rifled Blackburn’s wood -pile; and armful after armful of fresh fuel was thrown on the fire. The -Slavis took leave of what little humanity they had. The jugs were -snatched from hand to hand; tipped up to thirsty mouths; and snatched -away again. But even in their drunkenness they did not fight amongst -themselves. The fighting instinct was absent in this degenerate people. -It was an ugly thing to see the miserable little creatures, born under -the shadow of fear, and obliged to cringe to all men, now released of -their fears by whisky. They expressed their freedom by throwing their -heads back and howling like dogs; and by dancing around the fire with -legs and arms all abroad like jumping-jacks. The great, round moon, -rising a little higher to-night, looked down on this scene with her -accustomed serenity. - -Finally they began to turn their attention to the store. At first they -did not dare to approach; but one or another would hide behind his -fellows and squall derisively in the direction of Loseis. The others -would laugh in the childish way of savages. These were merely animal -cries, without words. Later Loseis began to hear the word Burn! cried -from one to another. She shivered internally. Meanwhile the jugs were -still circulating, rousing them to a pitch of frenzy. - -At last a man snatched up a stick with a burning end. Instantly a dozen -others followed his example. Loseis knocked out a pane of glass with her -elbow; and put the barrel of her gun through the hole. - -But the Slavis never reached the store. Something caused them to freeze -where they stood. The whole mad, shifting scene suddenly became fixed -like a picture. Then they dropped their torches and fled; vanishing in -the silent manner peculiar to themselves. You could scarcely see how it -happened; you looked again, and they were not there. A moment or two -after the sound had reached their ears it came to Loseis within the -house. It was the distant pounding of many hoofs on the trail. - -When Gault and his men rode into the little square, Loseis was standing -at the open door of the store. She still had the gun over her arm. Gault -flung himself off his horse. - -“Good God! what has happened?” he cried. “I heard the racket clear to my -camp, and jumped on my horse. Are you hurt?” - -Loseis slowly shook her head. - -“Is any damage done?” - -Loseis indicated the empty jugs lying scattered about. “None; except -that my father’s whisky has been drunk up,” she said dryly. - -“My God!” cried Gault. “The brutes! I hated to leave you this afternoon, -but I didn’t expect to see my fears materialize this way. Now you see, -don’t you, that I was right. You cannot be left here alone.” - -Loseis did not speak. She looked at him steadily, her lips curving in a -slow smile of scorn. She was thinking: Let him babble! It only makes him -out a fool. I shall not tell him all I know. To keep silence gives me a -power over him. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - A MEETING - - -Alongside a vast inland sea whose further shores were lost under the -horizon, a tall young white man was cooking his supper in the open. The -meal was going to be better than usual, for, having been camped in the -same spot for a week, he had been able to secure game. On a spit before -an ingeniously constructed fireplace of stones, a wild goose was -roasting. The young man turned the spit, and basted his fowl. He kept -the wooden spit from catching fire by the simple expedient of basting -that also. At a little distance two Indians looked on with covert scorn -at their master’s elaborate arrangements. What a lot of trouble to take -to eat! They had been content to impale their goose for awhile on a -stick inclined over the fire; whence they snatched it scorched on one -side and raw on the other. - -The young man, while taking an innocent pleasure in his own ingenuity, -was thinking how unsatisfactory it was to cook your own dinner. When it -first began to sizzle you became weak with hunger; but the continued -spectacle took the fine edge off your appetite long before the meat was -done. - -A dug-out nosed its slender length around a near point, and a shrill -hail electrified them all. - -“Conacher, thank God!” cried the young man. - -The two Indians ran down to the water’s edge; but their master would not -leave his goose which was browning beautifully. - -From the dug-out landed an exactly similar outfit; that is to say a tall -young white man and two Indians. The two white men clasped hands, and -their eyes beamed on each other. However, they were shy of betraying -emotion before the reds, and their greeting was distinctly casual. - -“Hello, old bean! Where the hell you been? The boss has gone down the -lake, leaving me to fetch you. Do you know that you’ve held up the whole -blooming survey?” - -“It’s a long story,” said Conacher. “Oh boy! is that a roast goose I -see? Let me get my teeth into it, and then I’ll tell you.” - -When they had thoroughly discussed the goose, they lighted their pipes; -and Alec Jordan invited Conacher to fire away. Jordan was about three -years older than Conacher; and they were tried friends. The Indians -around their own fire, were out of earshot. - -“What delayed you?” said Jordan. “It was downstream work all the way.” - -“Gad! it’s good to have a white man to talk to!” said Conacher. “I’m -damn thankful it’s you, old scout. I couldn’t have told the others.” - -“But why this emotion?” asked Jordan humorously. - -“Well, it concerns a woman,” said Conacher, looking away. - -His friend’s face hardened. “An Indian?” he asked. - -“No, damn you!” cried Conacher indignantly. “What do you think I am?” - -Jordan opened his eyes. “But between here and the Rocky Mountains,” he -said, “around Blackburn’s Lake, and down Blackburn’s River, what else is -there?” - -“There is Blackburn’s daughter?” murmured Conacher. - -“Oho!” cried Jordan. “I forgot about her. . . . Indeed, I thought she -was still a little girl.” - -“Don’t josh it!” muttered Conacher. “This is the real thing.” - -“I’m sorry, old man,” said Jordan, touching his shoulder. - -“Blackburn is dead,” said Conacher. - -“I knew it,” said Jordan. “The boss knew it, too. But it never occurred -to us to connect your delay with his death. We figured you would have -been past his Post before the date of his death.” - -“I was,” said Conacher. “But I went back.” - -He went on to tell the whole story; how he had first come to Blackburn’s -Post, of the trader’s ungracious reception and the daughter’s scornful -one; how he had gone on down the river; how the little raft had come -floating by his camp with the pathetic black streamer; and how, yielding -to an impulse that he had scarcely understood, he had hastened -up-stream. He ended his story with the coming of Andrew Gault to -Blackburn’s Post. - -“I could leave her then with an easier mind,” he said. “Gault knew -everything to do.” - -“Sure,” said Jordan; but in so uncertain a tone, that Conacher asked him -sharply: - -“What’s the matter?” - -Jordan looked at him queerly; and the lover’s anxious heart was filled -with alarm. - -“What are you keeping back?” he demanded. - -“I don’t know as I ought to tell you,” said Jordan slowly. - -“Why not?” - -“It’s just gossip. We’ve got our work to do.” - -“Do you put me or our work first?” demanded Conacher. - -“Well, since you put it that way, you!” said Jordan. - -“Then tell me.” - -“But what can you do, now?” - -“Never mind. You tell me, and I’ll make up my mind what I can do. I’m a -grown man.” - -“Well,” said Jordan, “when you told me that Gault had come to the aid of -Blackburn’s daughter I couldn’t help but think it was like the wolf -coming to save the lamb.” - -“Yes, I know,” said Conacher impatiently, “something of that sort -occurred to me, but hang it all! no white man could be blackguard enough -to take advantage of a young girl in that situation!” - -Jordan smiled affectionately at his friend. “You’re young, my son,” he -murmured. “I don’t know as I would put it by Gault. . . . I suppose -you’ve never heard the full story of Blackburn and Gault?” - -“No, how should I?” said Conacher. “Coming from the mountains.” - -“True, this is your first season. I’ve been in the country three -summers, and I’ve picked up all the gossip. It’s one of the stock -stories of the country how Blackburn and Gault have been fighting each -other for twenty years, and Blackburn has beaten out Gault at every -turn. Gault had to obtain financial assistance outside. But here’s a new -piece of information that came to me pretty straight. Nothing can be -hidden in this country. It seems that Ogilvie, Gault’s backer, told -Gault on his last visit to Fort Good Hope that the Company would fire -him if he didn’t succeed in putting Blackburn out of business.” - -Conacher’s face darkened with anxiety. “I wish I had known that!” he -muttered. “How did you hear of Blackburn’s death?” - -“Yesterday, before the boss pulled out, we got mail from Good Hope by -the half-breed Modest Capeau. When he left the fort the news of -Blackburn’s death had come; and Gault had gone over there. . . .” Jordan -hesitated, with an embarrassed glance at his friend. - -“Well, out with it!” said Conacher sharply. - -Jordan shrugged. “According to the gossip at Fort Good Hope, Gault said -that he was going to marry the girl.” - -Conacher jumped up. “Oh, my God!” he cried agitatedly. “That old man! -What the devil will I do!” - -Jordan followed him. “How about the girl?” he asked. - -“She loves me, Alec,” said Conacher simply. - -Jordan gripped his shoulder. “Old fellow . . . you deserve to be happy!” -he said warmly. - -“Happy!” cried Conacher bitterly. “I never should have left her!” - -“But you had to leave her.” - -“Oh hell, what does the government matter in a case like this. . . . -Wait a minute. I must try to think this out. How far can you trust this -gossip?” - -“Well I’m bound to say this is more than common gossip,” admitted -Jordan. “It was Joe Moale, the man closest to Gault, who told the -fellows he had heard Gault swear that he would marry the girl. . . . But -she won’t have him, of course. No doubt everything will be all right.” - -“Oh, God! don’t try to smooth things down!” cried Conacher. “She is -completely in his power. The only Indian who could speak English was -murdered . . . Of course she’ll reject him! And then what? Then what? -Oh, my God! think of the girl being left in the power of the man she had -turned down! . . . I never should have left her. But how could I stay -with all you waiting for me? . . . Well, it’s different now. I’ve done -the bit of work that was entrusted to me. I can put all the data in your -hands. After this they can get along without me if they have to. . . .” - -“My God! Paul, what are you talking about?” - -“I’m going back,” said Conacher quietly. - -“You _can’t_ go back! Think of the row that would be kicked up!” - -“I’ll have to face it.” - -“You’ll lose your job. Where will you get another?” - -“It’s true, nobody wants a geologist but the government. But I’m young; -I’ll make out somehow.” - -“Oh, my God! this is terrible!” cried Jordan. “We’re so shorthanded -already!” - -“Do you blame me?” demanded Conacher. - -Jordan’s expression changed. “No, I don’t blame you, really,” he said. -“Go on back, and God bless you! . . . But it’s me that’s got to face the -boss. You know what he is. At the first mention of a girl he will think -the worst. He’s depending on your Indians, too.” - -“Take them,” said Conacher. “Your dug-out is big enough to carry all -five. I couldn’t pay them anyhow. All I want of the government is enough -grub to see me through.” - -“It’s foolhardy to travel alone!” cried Jordan. - -“That’s all right,” said Conacher. “I’m not going to break a leg this -trip. I can’t afford to. The only thing that bothers me is, it’s all -up-stream work. I can’t make but twenty miles a day.” - -“I wish it was me,” said Jordan enviously. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - FUR - - -Quite early in the morning, Loseis, issuing out of her house, was -greatly astonished to see the door of the little fur warehouse standing -open, and the bales of fur being carried out by Gault’s Crees. This -warehouse flanked the store on the left hand side as you faced the -river; on the other side there was a similar building for the storage of -flour. Loseis’ breast grew hot at the sight; and without more ado, she -marched across. Gault was not in sight; Moale was directing the Crees. - -“What does this mean?” demanded Loseis. - -Moale turned his flat, inscrutable black eyes to the girl’s face. The -dash of Indian blood lent a touch of mystery to Moale’s olive face. It -was a comely face; but so expressionless it was impossible to tell the -man’s age. “I beg your pardon?” he said in his pleasant voice. - -“You heard me!” said Loseis in a passion. “By what authority have you -broken into my warehouse, and helped yourself to my fur?” - -It was quite true that Moale had opened one of the bales for no reason -except the pleasure of seeing and stroking the marvelous pelts of the -black foxes. He was a connoisseur. He said smoothly: “Mr. Gault’s -orders, Miss. I thought you knew.” - -“I did not know,” said Loseis, “and I will trouble you to have the fur -carried back again, and the door locked.” - -Moale scratched his head. “I’d be glad if you’d talk it over with Mr. -Gault,” he said. - -Loseis imperiously beckoned to the nearest Cree. “Man!” she said, “tell -Gault that I would be glad to have a few words with him.” - -While they waited for Gault, Moale busied himself with tying up the -opened bale. He did not speak; but he looked at Loseis curiously and -wistfully, when she was not aware of it. - -Gault was presently to be seen approaching from the men’s house. He did -not hurry himself. “Good morning,” he said, raising his hat. His manner -had changed. He was still polite, but it was an insolent politeness. His -eyes were as hard as glass. - -Loseis welcomed the change. It permitted her to come out into the open. -“Why did you give orders to get out my fur?” she asked. - -“It must be sent outside without further delay,” said Gault coolly. - -“Am I not to be consulted?” asked Loseis, running up her eye-brows. - -“It did not seem worth while to do so,” said Gault. “You have set -yourself in opposition to me at every point. Just the same I have a -responsibility towards you that I am obliged to fulfill.” - -“I am the mistress here,” said Loseis in a rage. - -“You are not of age,” said Gault coolly. - -“Well, you are not my guardian!” - -“No. But whoever may take your affairs in charge, will look to me as the -only man on the spot, for an accounting. If the fur is not sent out at -once you would lose the market for an entire season.” - -Loseis turned away biting her lip. Whenever he began to talk in this -vein with glib use of legal and business terms, she was helpless. Her -instinct told her that he was merely cloaking his evil intentions in -smooth words, but she had not experience enough to be able to strike -through to the truth. - -“Besides,” Gault went on, “if we do not get the fur to the Crossing, -Gruber will get tired of waiting for it.” - -Loseis caught at this. “So,” she said, “you are sending it to Gruber, -then?” - -“I expect to,” said Gault cautiously, “but I must reserve myself full -freedom of action. He has got to satisfy me that he can dispose of it to -the best advantage of your interests.” - -“When does it go?” asked Loseis. - -“To-morrow morning.” - -“By the usual route?” - -“No. I am sending it to Fort Good Hope; and thence by my launch to the -Crossing.” - -Loseis felt that here was a point she could stick on. “I would rather -have it go by pack train as usual, direct to the Crossing over the -prairie,” she said. - -“That would take two weeks longer.” - -“Just the same, I request you to send it in that manner.” - -“I must decline.” - -The red flags flew in Loseis’ cheeks. “You have said that it was my -fur,” she said. “Very well, I order you to send it out as I desire.” - -Gault, cool and hard; frankly enjoying the spectacle of her anger, said: -“And I decline to do so.” - -Loseis observing that she was furnishing him with enjoyment, contrived -by a miracle to control herself. “Thank you very much,” she said coolly. -“I was just trying to find out where I stood. Shall you accompany the -consignment?” - -“No,” said Gault darkly, “I remain here to look after you.” - -Loseis bowed, and marched back to her own house. Gault looked after her, -rubbing his lip. His thin mouth was twisted with anger and bitterness. -By God! there was a spirit in the girl! Never had she seemed so -desirable to him as at that moment. Moale too, looked after her with a -deep wistfulness in his mysterious eyes. The tang of red blood cut him -off from any hopes in that direction. - -Loseis put her feet down like a little princess; but her eyes were -stinging with tears. She conducted an orderly retreat, while her heart -was bursting with mortification. It was intolerable to be so proud and -so helpless. Helpless! Helpless! Her sex, her loneliness, her ignorance -delivered her three times over into the power of this man. She was -certain now that he intended to rob her, and she could do nothing! - -During the whole day the preparations went on. The pack-saddles were got -out; and the fur was divided into lots of a suitable size for a horse -load. Gault sent Moale to the Women’s House with a polite message -requesting Loseis to come to the store to issue the necessary grub. She -proudly handed over the key, telling them to take what they required, -and leave a memorandum of it. - -In the afternoon the horses were rounded up. As many were put into the -corral as it would hold, and the rest picketed in the square. Upwards of -seventy horses were required for the entire outfit. To make any sort of -progress between twelve and fifteen men would be needed to pack and -unpack the horses twice a day. Moale and two of the Crees were going, -while the other two remained to wait upon Gault. Loseis observed that -Ahchoogah, Mittahgah and others of the Slavis who had accompanied the -fur train on other years, were working willingly enough with the horses. -This started a train of thought in her mind. - -Gault is too strong for me, she told herself; why shouldn’t I trick him -if I can? - -With the passing of danger, the three Slavi girls had come sidling back -into the kitchen of the Women’s House, and Loseis indifferently took -them in, partly because she was accustomed to having them wait on her; -and partly because they furnished a useful link with the Slavi village -below. She now called Mary-Belle to her. - -“Can it be true,” she asked, “that Ahchoogah, Mittahgah, and other men -are going to Fort Good Hope? That place is dangerous for Slavi men.” - -“Wah! they would not go to that place!” said Mary-Belle with a look of -terror. “There is bad medicine in that place! Gault has said if they -will drive the horses as far as the red spring, the water of which makes -men and horses sick and well again, he will give each man a Stetson hat -and a mouth-organ. Blackburn never had mouth-organs in his store. The -red spring is half way between the two rivers. Gault says for the Slavis -to leave the horses there and come home. Musqua (one of the Crees) is -riding fast to bring the Crees from Fort Good Hope. Moale and Watusk -(the other Cree) will watch the horses and the fur at the red spring -until they come. So there is no harm.” - -Loseis let the subject drop. - -After supper, choosing a moment when she believed that Gault and Moale -were still at the table, she went over to the store. Fastening the door -behind her, she climbed through the back window, and making her way down -to the creek shore, followed it down to the Slavi village. Of course if -Gault happened to look out of the end window of his house, he could see -her amongst the Slavis; but then it would be too late to interfere with -her purpose. - -The air was still full of a pleasant warmth, and the Slavis having just -eaten, were squatting in groups outside the tepees, laughing and -chatting in their ceremonious way. It is only in the presence of a white -man that the Indian is taciturn. By this time the men had thrown off the -alcoholic poison which had made them sick for days, and a general -feeling of well-being was in the air. Fathers fondled their little sons, -and abused their womenfolk; and the latter accepted it with equanimity. - -At the approach of Loseis a dread silence fell upon them, and they drew -a walled look over their dark faces. It was the first time she had -visited them since that terrible night, and they expected the worst. But -Loseis was bent on playing a part to-night. Her face was as smooth as -their own, and much blander. Allowing them to suppose that she had -forgotten what had happened, she addressed this one and that by name -with grave politeness; promised a mother medicine for her sick child, -and handed out peppermint lozenges to the little boys who were the idols -of the tribe. Nobody would have thought of giving the little girls -candy. - -Loseis sat down on an overturned dug-out, with the manner of one who is -prepared to hold agreeable discourse. The Slavis began to gather round, -but always with that absurd pretense of not letting their left hands -know what their right hands were doing. Loseis was very wonderful to -them, too wonderful to inspire affection; awe was nearer the word. - -At first she talked of the stage of water in the river; the promise of a -full crop of berries; the scarcity of rabbit; all subjects of first-rate -importance to the Slavis. Ahchoogah, the oldest man present, in order to -prove how bold he was, undertook to answer her politely to her face. -When Loseis perceived that she had gathered the audience she wanted, she -went on casually: - -“The wind is from the setting sun. There will be no rain. It is well. -The men who are going to-morrow will see Fort Good Hope in five sleeps.” - -A tremor of uneasiness passed through her listeners. “No, no!” said -Ahchoogah. “We are not going to Fort Good Hope. At the red spring we -will turn back.” - -“That is Gault’s talk,” said Loseis courteously. “All know that Gault’s -talk hides a snare. When you get to the red spring you will not want to -turn back. Gault’s medicine will draw you on. It is very strong -medicine. It’s name is electricity. I know it, because Gault brought me -a little piece of it when he came here. The girls at my house have told -you that. It opens its eye in the dark.” - -Loseis paused to allow this to sink in. She fancied that she perceived -fear behind the blank masks of the Slavis; but could not be sure. None -spoke. - -“I have heard of many strange things at Fort Good Hope,” she went on -with an air of indifference that the Slavis could not outdo. “Men say -that Gault is Old Man’s partner. Old Man say to Gault; I lend you my -strong medicine, but when you die you must be a dog to my sledge. Gault -thinks he will cheat Old Man, by going away to the white man’s country -to die. Maybe so. I do not know such things. I hear them told.” - -She paused again. The men looked down their noses. A woman crept to -Loseis’ feet, and twitched her skirt. - -“Loseis, tell my son not to go,” she said tremulously. - -“If he wants to go, what is that to me?” said Loseis with an air of -surprise. “He will see strange things. When Gault claps his hands—Wah! -there is light. Gault catches the voices of the air on his wires and -brings them into his room. He did that in my father’s house and I made -him stop, because I did not want the Powerful Ones to fix their eyes on -me! Etzooah has told you these things. At Fort Good Hope Gault keeps -great beasts fastened to the earth. They have fire in their bellies and -they do his bidding. When they open their mouths you can see the fire, -and steam hisses through their nostrils as from many kettles in one. -When they are hungry they scream so that a man falls flat on the ground -to hear it. These fiery beasts eat men too, and Gault is always worried -because he has no men to spare. So he is glad when strangers come to -Fort Good Hope.” - -Loseis rose, feeling that she could hardly better this conclusion. She -held out her hand in turn to Ahchoogah, to Mittahgah, to Mahtsonza and -the others there that she knew were going next day. “Good-by. . . . -Good-by. You are good hunters. You bring me plenty of fur. I am sorry -that you go.” - -She returned home. It was impossible to tell how the Slavis would react -next day; but she had done her best. - - * * * * * - -Early next morning Loseis was at her window. Nothing was changed. The -horses were still picketed in the square; and the Crees were lounging -about the doorway of the men’s house. The lordly Crees had no notion of -bestirring themselves while there were Slavis to do the hard work. By -and by Gault appeared in the doorway, and with vigorous pantomime of -anger evidently demanded to know why nothing had been started. He was -told; whereupon Etzooah was dispatched down to the Slavi village in a -hurry. - -From the other window Loseis watched Etzooah haranguing the Slavis, and -expostulating with them. It was all in vain. He was finally obliged to -return cringing to Gault, shrugging, spreading out his hands in -significant by-play. Gault’s face turned black, and he aimed a furious -kick at Etzooah, that the wily redskin dodged. Gault went inside; while -Etzooah slipped around the house. Gault reappeared carrying an ugly -quirt. Summoning his Crees with a jerk of the head, he set off down the -rise. The tall redskins followed with cruel grins of anticipation. - -Back at the end window, Loseis saw the miserable little Slavis driven -like sheep by the five tall men. But sheep were never used so brutally. -The sneaking Etzooah, reappearing from the creek-bed, pointed out the -wanted ones, who were driven up the rise with incontinent kicks and -cuffs, and the furious lashing of the whip. Squeezing their bodies -together to offer as small a mark as possible, the diminutive savages -darted this way and that, to find that they could only escape punishment -by running straight ahead. The Crees yelled with laughter. The Slavis, -cowering, made haste to start packing the horses, and Loseis made up her -mind that she had lost. - -Oscillating between the two windows, she presently saw that the Slavis -below were striking their tepees, and piling everything pell-mell into -the canoes, and she took heart again. She knew the Slavis better than -Gault did. Either Gault did not notice what the people were about, or he -disdained them. There was no interference with them. They presently set -off in a cloud up-river, paddling as if the devil were behind them. So -precipitate was their departure that a small boy who had gone down -amongst the willows to set muskrat snares, returned to find his village -wiped off the flat. After prowling around to see if by chance any scraps -of food had been overlooked, the child set off composedly up-river by -the horse-track. - -Soon afterwards Loseis perceived that Gault was having trouble with his -gang. In the process of saddling the pack-horses, some of the Slavis had -disappeared. The four Crees were sent off in different directions to -round them up. This was a fatal move, because Gault and Moale could not -possibly watch all the others, and Etzooah would always play double. The -Slavis, on their part, have an uncanny faculty of choosing the moment -when no eye is upon them to fade away silently: to slip behind a -building, to roll down the creek bank, to lose themselves in the bush of -the hillside. In spite of Gault’s whip, and his terrible voice, his crew -literally melted away before his eyes. After making long detours, they -would rejoin their people somewhere above. Even weakness is not without -its resources. - -When the Crees returned empty-handed, the Slavis were reduced to five. -These were all but surrounded; nevertheless, it was presently discovered -that there were but four, without anybody being able to say what had -become of the fifth. In any case it would have been impossible for such -a small number of men to pack and unpack seventy horses twice a day. -Gault gave up. The remaining Slavis were dismissed with kicks, and the -trader, doubtless in a hellish rage, strode back to his house. Near the -door, the grinning Etzooah spoke to him. For an instant Gault showed a -murderous face in Loseis’ direction; then went inside. Loseis -experienced a feeling of the sweetest triumph. - -However, within an hour, two of the Crees with their bedding and grub -set off on the easterly trail, and her heart sunk again. In four or five -days they would be back with a swarm of Crees from Fort Good Hope. What -good would four days do her? She had only succeeded in prolonging the -agony. - -Seeing the last of their people disappear, the Slavi girls exhibited the -frantic, unreasoning fear of half-broken horses deserted by the herd. -Loseis scornfully let them go. They slipped around behind the Women’s -House, and were not seen again. - -The pack-horses had been turned out again; and the fur carried back into -the little warehouse. The lock of the warehouse had been forced out of -respect to Gault’s pretense that the key was sealed up in Blackburn’s -desk, and no other lock was put on. The door was held shut by a propped -pole. - -Meanwhile Gault had not returned the key to the store; and after waiting -a few hours, Loseis sent Mary-Lou across the square with a polite -request for it. The girl returned without it, and bearing a message -equally polite, to the effect that henceforward Gault would relieve Miss -Blackburn of the trouble of attending upon the store. Until her duly -constituted representative arrived, he would administer it together with -the rest of her property. - -Loseis was never the one to take this lying down. She instantly marched -over to the store. The door was fastened with a padlock through staples. -Loseis bethought herself that there were crow-bars somewhere about the -post. However she found an easier way. Gault had overlooked the fact -that the little back window was out. Loseis climbed through, and -obtaining a file and a new lock from the store, returned to the front of -the building and set to work. It was a long job in her inexperienced -hands; but she was supported by the agreeable thought that Gault was -watching her. By the end of the afternoon she found herself inside. -Putting in the rear window, she fastened the new lock, and returned to -her house to supper dangling the keys from thumb and forefinger. - -After supper Moale came over. Loseis received him at the outer door. -Whatever his private feelings may have been did not appear. He said in -an impassive voice: - -“Mr. Gault instructs me to say that you and your girl must prepare to go -out to Fort Good Hope when the fur goes in four or five days’ time. He -can no longer take the responsibility of keeping you here while the -Slavis are in open rebellion.” - -Loseis laughed scornfully. “He can always find respectable-sounding -words, can’t he?” she said. “You’re a white man, aren’t you? I should -think you would feel ashamed to be the carrier of such lying words.” - -Moale’s face changed not a muscle. Some secret feeling made him proof -against her scorn. He was not altogether white. He had not looked -directly in her face. - -Loseis’ temper got the better of her. “You tell Gault, I shan’t go!” she -cried. - -In his even voice Moale said: “I am instructed to say that Mr. Gault is -prepared for that.” - -Loseis shut the door. - -During the hours that followed she walked up and down her room, half -beside herself with balked rage. What possible answer was there to this -latest threat of Gault’s. He had hinted at using force. He intended to -lay hands on her. To Loseis’ flaming blood there were only two possible -answers: to kill herself or to kill Gault. The first alternative she -immediately rejected; that was the counsel of weakness. Nothing would -please Gault better than for her to kill herself. She would kill Gault -then, before he should lay hands on her. But ah! _dared_ she take the -life of a white man? She had had so vivid an experience of death taking -a man in his strength. - -Besides there were three other men. She could not hope to shoot them all -before she was seized. She would be carried out anyhow. She visualized -the horrors of a trial of which she knew so little; she imagined the -cloud of lies that would beat her down. She had no one to speak for her -but Mary-Lou; and Mary-Lou would never be allowed to speak. And if she -were, the simple red girl would be struck dumb with terror. Disgraced! -Disgraced! thought Loseis. Parted from Conacher without hope in this -life. She buried her face in her hands. I must not kill him! she thought -in terror. I must not let myself kill him. . . . But how can I help it -if he lays hands on me! - -If Gault had come over without warning to seize her, Loseis would have -snatched up a gun, and shot him without thinking about it. But with -devilish cunning he had sent to tell her of his intention. He was giving -her four days in which to go mad with trying to find a way out when -there was none. - -Mary-Lou was terrified by the expression on her mistress’ face. She held -out her arms imploringly. “Please . . . please to go to bed,” she -whispered. “You will sleep. To-morrow you feel better.” - -“Sleep!” cried Loseis. “I shall never sleep again!” - -“Please . . . please,” persisted Mary-Lou. “Please stop walking.” - -“Go to bed, you,” said Loseis angrily. “Let me be by myself. Close the -door after you.” - -Mary-Lou went sadly out. - -Loseis pressed her knuckles against her temples. I must be quiet! she -told herself. I must think what I am doing! . . . Quiet! The only thing -that would quiet me would be to go across and call him to the door and -shoot him! Ah, then I could sleep! . . . I must not think such things! I -must not! I must always be telling myself it would not end things to -kill him; it would only begin worse things! . . . But what is the use? I -know I shall suddenly kill him! If he lays hands on me! . . . If I were -a man he would not dare! She flung her arms above her head. “O God! why -didn’t you make me a man! It is too hard to be a girl!” - - * * * * * - -It had been dark for some time. To-night the silence was even more -complete, for no child whimpered in the tepees, and no Slavi dog barked. -Loseis was pulled up all standing by hearing a gentle tapping on the -glass of the window alongside the kitchen door. These nights the inside -shutters were always closed. She instinctively flew to her gun which was -standing in the corner; but put it down again, smiling scornfully at -herself. It was not in this manner that an attack would be made. - -Returning to the window, she said firmly: “Who is there?” - -A whisper came winging back: “Conacher.” - -Loseis’ heart failed her; her legs wavered under her; she struggled to -get her breath. Then in a flash life and joy came crowding back until -she felt as if she would burst. She clapped a hand over her mouth to -hold in the rising scream of joy. Gault must not know! “Oh, Paul! . . . -Oh, Paul!” she murmured, fumbling blindly for the latch of the door. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - THE FUR GOES OUT - - -Loseis and Paul Conacher sat on the great white bear rug before the -fire. Said Loseis, concluding her tale: - -“He gave me to understand through Moale, that he would stop at nothing.” - -“The scoundrel!” muttered Conacher. “He was trying to terrorize you. In -reality he cannot touch your rights here, unless you sign them away.” - -“Sign?” said Loseis sharply. “I have signed my name four times on blank -sheets of paper for Gault. I had clean forgotten that.” She described -the circumstances. - -“Obviously a trick,” said Conacher. “If you had known anything about -banking methods, you would have seen through it.” - -“I am so ignorant!” said Loseis humbly. - -“How could you be expected to know!” said Conacher. He mused. “I wonder -how in thunder he expects to use those signatures. . . . Were they at -the top, in the middle or at the bottom of the sheets?” - -“Towards the bottom,” said Loseis. “He pointed his finger, and I wrote.” - -“Of course!” said Conacher. “Then he could fill in anything he wanted -above your signature.” - -Loseis leaned towards him. “What does it matter?” she said dreamily. “We -are together!” - -“You darling!” - -Loseis was too happy to remain sitting still. Springing up, she threw -back the little shutter. Outside it was broad day. “The day of my -happiness!” she murmured. Sticking her head through the kitchen door, -she called out: “Mary-Lou! Quick with my breakfast. I must set off!” - -“So soon?” said Conacher. “It’s not four.” - -“Gault mustn’t see me start. If he tried to interfere, you would be -drawn into it, and everything spoiled.” - -“He’ll see you come back.” - -“That doesn’t matter. I shall have settled everything with Tatateecha -then.” - -“Can we depend upon the Slavis?” asked Conacher anxiously. - -“If it was to fight, never! But to play a secret trick at night, oh, -yes! that’s just in their line.” - -“And I?” asked Conacher. - -“You must stay close to the house all day. This shall be your room now -. . . Ah! the happy room! Do not go near the windows. . . . Where did -you leave your dug-out last night?” - -“Hidden under the willows about a furlong downstream. I thought I had -better communicate with you before showing myself.” - -“You did right! . . . If the Slavis were here your dug-out would be -discovered within an hour, but Gault will never find it. . . . You must -sleep all you can to-day.” - -“You must sleep too.” - -“Ah! happiness has made me over! I need no sleep! . . . However, I will -be sensible. I will be back from the lake in three or four hours, and -will sleep all day in the kitchen. Neither of us will get any sleep -to-night.” - -“I don’t altogether like your plan,” said Conacher frowning. “I should -be the one to stay here.” - -“You are wrong in that,” said Loseis earnestly. “There is nothing of any -value here. All Gault cares about is the fur. The post of danger is with -the fur, and you have that.” - -“Why shouldn’t you and I take it out together?” - -“No! If I left the Post, it would give Gault an excuse to say that I had -given up my rights here.” - -“But how can I leave you alone again?” - -“Ah, nothing can harm me now!” cried Loseis. “I am guarded by happiness! -I will do everything quite willingly that Gault forces me to do, and -just be patient until you and Gruber come back. There is a sergeant of -police at the Crossing. Bring him back too. Oh, Gault will be quite -different when he knows that help is on the way. He has to think of the -law, then.” - -Conacher was silenced: but he did not look altogether convinced. They -sat down to their breakfast. - -“It is like being married!” said Loseis with a sigh of content. -“Mary-Lou, have you cooked enough for a man’s breakfast?” - -Loseis’ own horse and her saddle were in the stable behind the men’s -house; therefore unavailable. Having improvised a halter out of a piece -of rope, she therefore set off on foot; and catching one of the broken -horses in the meadow beyond the creek, she rode it in the Indian -fashion, bareback. - - * * * * * - -At half-past eight she was back again. Turning the horse loose, she hid -the halter in a bush, and returned across the stepping-stones. Gault was -pacing up and down in front of his house. From this position he could -not see her until she started to mount the rise. It was impossible for -him to tell from what direction she had come. At sight of her, -notwithstanding his self-command, his face sharpened with curiosity; and -he changed his course in order to intercept her. Loseis was seized with -a slight sense of panic. He must not read anything in my face! she told -herself. - -“Good morning,” said Gault, politely. - -“Good morning,” returned Loseis. Alas! for all her care, she could feel -the dimples pressing into her cheeks, and she knew that her eyes were -shining. She kept her lids lowered, but that in itself was a giveaway, -for she had been accustomed heretofore to look Gault straight in the -eye. - -By the brief silence which succeeded, she knew that his suspicions were -aroused. “You are up early,” he remarked in a carefully controlled -voice. - -“I just went down to see if the Slavis had left a canoe that I could -use,” she said carelessly. - -“I did not see you go,” said Gault. - -“It must have been an hour ago,” said Loseis. “I went for a walk, the -morning was so pleasant.” (I should not be explaining things like this, -she thought. I ought to be proud and angry with him.) - -“If you want a canoe my men will make one for you,” said Gault. - -“Oh, no, thank you,” said Loseis quickly. “It was just a fancy. One must -have something to do.” - -She had not stopped walking, and they came to her door. Loseis bowed. - -“May I come in for a moment?” asked Gault. - -“Sorry,” she said quickly. “We are not ready for visitors so early. But -if you wish to speak to me here I am.” - -“Oh, it will keep until later,” said Gault. He touched his hat, and -watched her through the door. - -Conacher was waiting for her in the inner room. Loseis flung herself in -his arms. - -“Ah, you are really here!” she murmured. “It was not a dream! . . . If -Gault could see me now!” she added with a laugh, like a chime of little -bells. - -Conacher pressed the hair back from her forehead. He had been watching -through the window, and his face was dark. “It makes me see red to have -that man speak to you,” he muttered. “What was he after?” - -“Wanted to know where I’d been?” said Loseis. “Of course I didn’t tell -him. But I’m afraid I gave away a good deal in my face. I have him badly -worried. I hope it won’t cause him to sit up to-night, or set a watch on -us.” - -“All is arranged then?” - -“Yes. Tatateecha will land a hundred men in the second river meadow at -ten o’clock. They will wait there until it becomes dark. We’ll only have -about four hours of darkness, and the moon will be shining. It cannot be -helped; we must put our trust in silence. Slavis are the quietest -animals there are.” - -A few hours later, Loseis, sleeping in the kitchen, was awakened by -Mary-Lou who said that Gault was coming across. - -“He must be allowed to come in,” said Loseis. “Say that I am sleeping. -It will give me a moment to prepare.” - -She hastened into the other room. Awakening Conacher, she said: - -“Gault is coming. I must let him in here in order to put his suspicions -to sleep. Get under the bed.” - -Conacher, still bemused with sleep, obeyed her; and Loseis, with a rapid -survey of the room, gathered up whatever was his, and thrust it after -him. The robe of raccoons’ tails hung down over the edge of the bed -concealing all. She went to the door. - -“Come in,” she said, affecting to conceal a yawn. - -“I am sorry to have disturbed you,” said Gault smoothly. His eyes swept -around the room, taking everything in. It was not that he expected to -find anyone there; he was merely trying to discover what secret source -of support Loseis had found. He gave her a hard look as much as to say: -What are you sleeping in the morning for? - -Loseis, having had time to prepare, was fully mistress of herself. “Last -night I was too angry to sleep,” she said coolly. - -“Hum!” said Gault, rubbing his lip. “That is what I came to talk to you -about.” - -Loseis held herself in polite readiness to hear what he had to say. - -“We mustn’t quarrel,” said Gault. He buttered his harsh voice; but his -eyes were still boring into the girl. - -“I don’t wish to quarrel,” said Loseis mildly. “But when you tell me you -are going to banish me from my own home . . .” - -“You refuse to co-operate with me,” said Gault, spreading out his hands. - -“You don’t give me a chance,” said Loseis. Inwardly she was quaking -dangerously with laughter. If he knew what was under the bed! - -“You are so young!” said Gault deprecatingly. - -“However young I am,” said Loseis, “what is mine, is mine!” - -“Well, I may have been a little too hasty,” said Gault with the air of -one who was making an immense concession. “Let us try to make a fresh -start.” - -Loseis reflected that if she allowed a reconciliation to take place she -would never be able to get rid of him. “Perhaps I have been hasty, too,” -she said, “but I can’t forgive you yet. Give me another twenty-four -hours . . . Come to breakfast to-morrow, and I promise to meet you half -way.” - -“Done!” cried Gault, showing all the big teeth. I am wearing her down! -he thought. Women do not mean all they say! “Expect me at eight,” he -said, making for the door. - -Conacher crawled out from under the bed with a very red face. “It’s good -he went!” he growled. “I couldn’t have stood it much longer. . . . What -did you want to ask him to breakfast for?” - -Loseis was charmed to see Conacher betraying jealousy. “While I have him -here no discovery is likely to be made,” she said. “Every hour’s start -that you can gain will help.” - -“Well, I hope he comes after me, that’s all,” said Conacher grimly. - -At ten o’clock that night Loseis and Mary-Lou came out of their house -arm in arm, and stood in front of the door linked together, gazing up at -the serene moon. Behind them crouched Conacher. Across the way Gault’s -house was in the blackest shadow, and they could not tell but that the -door might be standing open, and some one watching them from within. -Making out to be lost in contemplation of the moon, the two girls, -always taking care to present a double front to a possible watcher, -edged to the corner of the house. Conacher then darted around behind. He -was to make his way around the outside of the square and meet them -beside the creek in half an hour. - -Loseis went back to close the door of her house, and the girls continued -their stroll. From the middle of the square they could make out that the -door of Gault’s house was closed. They descended to the bank of the main -stream, and came back again. Having by this maneuver satisfied -themselves that they were not being followed, they returned down the -rise, picked up Conacher at the creek, and crossed the meadow beyond. -Upon the gravelly ridge which bounded it on the other side, they came -upon Tatateecha and his silent men, squatting on the earth with their -backs to the moon like a patch of little bushes. - -Conacher was presented to Tatateecha as the friend of Loseis who must be -obeyed in all things. Conacher himself could only issue his orders by -means of signs. Being a white man, and therefore not to be trusted where -absolute silence was required, he was sent down into the second meadow -to wait. The little Slavis deployed in the first meadow, and slowly -closing up, urged the horses slowly back over the ridge. In the second -meadow they could be packed without danger of arousing the sleepers at -the post. For this operation the light of the moon would be invaluable. - -Led by Loseis, the whole tribe then crept back in single file through -the grass towards the Post. They crossed the creek, not by the -stepping-stones, but higher up, immediately below the steep bank at the -back of the men’s house and the little warehouse. Leaving her men at the -bottom of the bank, Loseis went up to make a reconnaissance. She crept -up to the wall of the men’s house, and rounding the front corner, edged, -a foot at a time to the door. Laying her ear to the crack, she was -rewarded by hearing heavy snores within. No watch was being kept. What -had Gault to fear from two girls? - -Returning to her men, Loseis gave the signal, and the business of the -night began. Loseis herself removed the pole that propped the warehouse -door, and let it back softly against the wall. One of the Slavis was -posted close to the men’s house with instructions to croak like a -bull-bat if there was any sound of movement from within. Inside the -warehouse Loseis would have been thankful to use her electric torch, but -was afraid of precipitating a panic amongst the Slavis. However the fur -had all been divided into half loads for a horse, each half load being a -load for a man. Silently the endless procession wound in and out. A long -line of little men waited in the moonlight at the door. Nobody stumbled, -or dropped his load. There were a hundred bundles of fur. Afterwards the -pack-saddles, saddle-cloths, hitching-gear had to go. Loseis breathed a -little prayer of thankfulness when at last she propped the pole against -the closed door, exactly as it had been before. - -There was still the grub to be got from the store; but as this was -passed out through the rear window, and carried away behind the -warehouse, the danger was not so great. - -The easterly sky was full of cool light when the hitch was thrown over -the last pack, and pulled home. The head of the train had already -started. Tatateecha rode first to make the trail. Conacher lingered to -say good-by to Loseis. His heart failed him. - -“Ah, come too,” he urged her. “Here are plenty of spare horses. Let me -take care of you!” - -“No, no, dearest!” she said. “Before we had gone twenty miles Gault -would be up to us, and the Slavis would stampede. We’d have to wait for -Gault’s Crees after all. But if you can only get the Slavis fifty or -sixty miles from home into a strange country, you couldn’t drive them -away from the grub-boxes. I am hoping that two days may pass before -Gault discovers the loss of the fur.” - -“He will see that the horses are gone,” objected Conacher. - -“They are accustomed to wander from one meadow to another along the -river.” - -The last Indian had passed out of sight. Conacher took the girl in his -arms. “You are asking the hardest thing in the world of me,” he groaned. -“And that is to leave you!” - -“Ah! don’t make it harder for me,” faltered Loseis. “It is the only -way!” - -“Damn the fur!” said Conacher. “It makes me out a mere fortune-hunter. I -wish you had nothing!” - -“I’m not worrying about what you are,” said Loseis. “My heart tells me. -For myself, I care nothing about the fur. It was my father’s. I would -feel that I had been false to him, if I let Gault fool me out of it. I -could never respect myself. I am Blackburn’s daughter. I cannot allow -the name of Blackburn to become a joke in the country.” - -“I’m only a tail to the Blackburn kite,” grumbled Conacher. - -Loseis laughed a little, and pressed him close. “I shall make it up to -you,” she whispered. “You shall be my lord and master. Isn’t that -enough?” - -“That makes me feel worse,” he said. “I’m not worthy. . . .” - -Loseis put a loving hand over his mouth. “Enough of that talk,” she -said. “You love me, don’t you?” - -“Until death,” he murmured. - -“Me too, until death,” she whispered passionately. “That makes us equal. -This talk of fortunes and worthiness is less than nothing. . . . Now you -must go.” - -“They ride so slowly,” pleaded Conacher. - -“Get on your horse, dearest; I must not be seen returning to-day.” - -Conacher obeyed with a heavy heart. He leaned out of the saddle for a -final embrace. They clung together. - -“Good-by,” whispered Loseis. “Good-by, my dearest love. Come back soon!” - -Swiftly withdrawing herself from him, she gave his horse a smart slap; -and it carried him away. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - THE DISCOVERY - - -Dawn was rosy in the East when Loseis got home; but the moon had set, -and the little square within the buildings was full of shadows. There -was no stir of life about the men’s house; the door was still closed. -Loseis slipped thankfully within her own door. Mary-Lou, being of no -help in packing the horses, had been sent home some hours before. - -In her first feeling of relief, Loseis threw herself on her bed, and was -instantly asleep. But at six her subconscious anxiety awoke her again; -and the instant she awakened, she was at the window. The door of the -men’s house now stood open; and the two tall Crees were respectively -splashing in a basin and brandishing a towel outside the door. They had -learned this trick from the white man. Etzooah squatted on the ground -near by, grinning derisively. The Slavis did not believe in washing. If -they ever yielded to this weakness, it was in secrecy. - -One of the Crees went off to the stable; and presently returned leading -Gault’s own horse, a rangy, half-bred chestnut from the “outside.” Gault -appeared from the house fully accoutered, and Loseis’ heart seemed to -drop into a hole in her breast. Suppose he rode along the river trail; -any man not absolutely blind must perceive the marks of the passage of -the fur train. However, to her relief, he trotted diagonally across the -square, and started up the trail behind the store. - -Freshening himself up to come courting again, thought Loseis with -curving lips. - -Her next anxiety was that Moale, actuated by his passion for fine furs, -might visit the warehouse to look them over. But Moale did not appear -outside the cabin. Loseis saw smoke rising from the chimney, and -supposed that he must be acting as cook for the time being. So she left -the window to prepare herself for the day. - -In due course Gault returned from his ride. He went within to refurbish -himself; and promptly on the stroke of eight was to be seen striding -across the square, very stiff and handsome and black. - -Quite a picture, thought Loseis in a detached way; but not for my album. -She spoke through the door to Mary-Lou. “Let him wait in the kitchen for -a moment. We must not appear to be too eager.” - -When she opened the door, Gault was standing there, hand on hip, looking -every inch the chief, and fully aware of it. He presented a smooth face -to her, with a hard and wary eye. He did not know exactly what to -expect. Loseis, making her own face expressionless, greeted him -politely. - -“Come in,” she said. - -The table was ready spread in the inner room, and they sat down to it, -outvying each other in cool politeness. Gault was thinking: She asked me -here this morning. It’s up to her to show her hand. And Loseis was -thinking: I have everything to gain by keeping him guessing. Let him -make the first move. So it was: - -“This fried rabbit is delicious, Miss Blackburn.” - -“I’m glad you like it. I was sorry there was no other fresh meat. The -Slavis say that a man may starve on rabbit.” - -“The Slavis may say so: but it satisfies me. I can never get it cooked -so well as this. It needs a woman.” - -“But I have read that the most famous cooks are always men.” - -“Oh, I was speaking of our country. I have had many a good man cook on -the trail; but they seem to lose their cunning in a house.” - -“My usual cook is the Slavi girl that I call Mary-Ann,” said Loseis. -“But she has run off with the others.” - -Gault shrugged in a commiserating fashion. This was getting on dangerous -ground. - -The trader was at a serious disadvantage in this fencing, because he -wanted the girl, wanted her intolerably, whereas she was indifferent to -him. Gault did not know the cause for it; but his senses were aware that -Loseis was revealing a new beauty these past two days. Her dark eyes -were fuller and more beaming; her very skin seemed to radiate a -mysterious quality of light. All this made the man a little sick at -heart; but he could not altogether give up hope, either. She asked me to -breakfast, he told himself; what does that mean but that she is -beginning to come round. Very often a woman is most scornful just at the -moment when she is preparing to give in. I should hang off a little now. - -Meanwhile Loseis was thinking: Five hours! They will be making their -first spell. Fifteen miles. I told Tatateecha to cut it down to three -hours on the first day. Then five hours on the trail, and camp for the -night thirty miles from here. Gault’s Crees cannot arrive before -to-morrow night at the earliest. My people will then have sixty miles -start. - -Loseis’ beauty teased Gault to such an extent that he was forced to make -overtures to bring a little warmth into that composed face. “Shall I -send to the lake village to fetch Mary-Ann back?” he asked. - -“Oh, no!” said Loseis. “I prefer to ignore her. I shall be in a better -position to deal with her when she comes crawling back of her own -accord.” - -“I was merely thinking of your comfort,” said Gault. - -“You are very kind.” - -Gault could no longer keep it in. “Well, am I forgiven!” he asked in a -jolly sort of way. - -Loseis gave him no answering smile. “I am no longer angry with you,” she -said coolly. “I am just neutral. I am waiting to see what happens.” - -Gault was a good deal dashed. She is just playing with me! he thought -angrily. But Oh God! that pure, pale skin, that proud averted glance! -With an immense effort he controlled himself. “There is no need for you -to leave this place,” he said with a reasonable air. - -Instead of showing the gratitude that he expected, she said in a -slightly surprised voice: “Of course there isn’t!” - -“But if we are to remain here together,” he said, nettled, “you must -make it possible for me to work with you.” - -“It seems to me that you are putting the cart before the horse,” said -Loseis softly. - -Gault ground his teeth together. This child to be taking such a tone to -him! “My dear girl!” he said loftily, “I must be the one to decide what -is best for us until some better qualified person appears.” - -Loseis thought: I must not make him too angry. I must lead him along. -She said in a more amicable tone: “We are just talking in a circle.” - -Gault contrived to laugh again. “Of course we are!” he cried. “Well, -what do you propose? You promised to meet me half way.” - -“I will do anything that you suggest,” said Loseis with an alluring -mildness, “provided you explain the reasons for it.” - -The blood rushed to Gault’s pale face. He had to restrain himself from -reaching for her hand. “That is all I could ask!” he cried. - -“Yes,” Loseis slyly went on, “I will even go out to Fort Good Hope when -you send the fur, if it is necessary.” - -A doubt occurred to the trader—this was such a violent face-about: but -she looked so adorable when she said it, that he waved the doubt away. -“Splendid!” he cried. “I now say to you that there is not the slightest -necessity for your going to Fort Good Hope!” - -Loseis smiled at him at last, a slow, oblique, curious smile, having -infinitely more meaning than the trader suspected. It carried him clean -off his feet. His hand shot out. - -“Shake!” he cried. - -Loseis could not control the impulse of her blood that forced her to -rise suddenly (she had finished her breakfast) and to say with cool -distaste: “Oh, please not. I hate to paw.” - -And Gault’s blood was aware of the true significance of that recoil, but -his vanity would not acknowledge it. He sat glowering at her half-hurt, -half-angry, a pathetic sight at fifty-three. “Oh, sorry,” he said in a -flat voice. “It is instinctive amongst men.” - -“I know,” said Loseis, trying to smooth things over. “But I am not a -man. . . . Do smoke one of your delicious cigars. I have missed them -during the last few days.” - -Gault allowed himself to be deceived. “My pet weakness!” he said, -smiling at Loseis rather killingly. - -They were tempted outside. Loseis’ gaze involuntarily swept the heavens. -No cloud in sight; not the filmiest of vapors to dim the inverted bowl -of blue. There would be no rain for days. It was well. - -“What are you expecting?” asked Gault smiling. - -“Oh, nothing!” she said with a shrug. “My father always looked at the -sky when he came out of doors. I suppose I caught the habit from -him. . . . Shall we walk down to the river? Things have been so mixed up -lately, all my habits are broken up. I need exercise.” - -“Delighted!” said Gault. “. . . There is not going to be any more -quarreling, is there?” he added with his fond smile. - -“I hope not,” said Loseis demurely. - -They paused at the edge of the river bank. The view was filled in by the -bold high point opposite, with the old grave and the new grave side by -side on top within the extended palings. The sight of the grassy mound -and the earthy mound aroused a poignant emotion in Loseis. - -Do _they_ know what I am going through? she wondered. Ah! I hope not! I -should not want their peace to be disturbed! - -Gault, watching the girl’s face, said with a heavy gravity: “I have not -yet had the opportunity to visit Blackburn’s grave. I trust I may be -permitted to pay that tribute. He was a great man!” - -Loseis turned back from the river. She did not care to share her emotion -with _him_. The hypocritical words sickened her slightly. “Of course!” -she said coolly. “Why not?” - -A hard nature! said Gault to himself. - -However as they sauntered back through the grass, which was now -bestarred with pale crocuses, Loseis exerted herself to charm him, and -God knows that was not difficult. Matters went swimmingly again. Gault -expanded. He could see himself bending elegantly and solicitously to the -slim and lovely girl. It was a sensation one had never experienced in -that rude country. - -As they mounted the rise to the little plateau, Gault was saying: “I am -expecting my men back to-morrow afternoon with some fresh supplies from -Good Hope. I trust you will give me the pleasure of dining with me. The -fare will not be as good as that you provide, but perhaps it will have -an element of novelty. . . .” - -And at that moment they perceived Moale running towards them like a -madman. - -Loseis’ heart sank. All her trouble to fool him was for nothing, then! -Immediately afterwards she went hard all over. Now for it! Well, let it -come! - -“The fur is gone!” yelled Moale. - -“_What!_” cried Gault, with an affronted air, that was almost comic. - -“The warehouse is empty!” cried Moale waving his arms. “Gone! Gone! All -gone!” Nothing else could so have aroused that wooden man. - -Gault and Loseis now stood at the top of the rise. The trader turned to -the girl with a towering look. “By God!” he said, softly at first, then -louder: “By God! . . . You have hidden the fur!” - -Loseis, holding herself very straight, looked away with a maddening air -of unconcern, and held her tongue. - -“She has sent it out!” cried Moale. “The saddles are gone; the horses -are gone! I have sent Watusk along the trail to pick up their tracks.” - -“Where is the fur?” demanded Gault of Loseis. - -She reflected that the truth was bound to come out immediately. “I have -sent it out,” she said coolly. “It was mine.” - -The two men stared at her open-mouthed, bereft of speech. Finally Gault -got his breath back, and his anger. - -“You foolish girl!” he cried. “You have lost it then! The Slavis are -useless without a leader.” - -Loseis thought it just as well to let them know that they had more than -the Slavis to deal with. “They have a leader,” she said with an offhand -air. “My friend Mr. Conacher is in charge of the pack-train.” How sweet -it was to flick that name so carelessly in Gault’s rage-distorted face. - -Another silence. Gault’s face looked perfectly witless in its -astonishment. Then it crimsoned, and the storm broke. In his passion the -man’s coarse nature brazenly revealed itself. - -“You lying hussy!” he cried. “All the time you’ve been showing me your -demure face, you’ve been secretly receiving your lover! Lies! Lies! -Lies! Nothing but lies behind that smooth face! All morning you have -been lying to me to pave the way for his escape! . . .” - -The girl faced him, surprised at first, then royal in her anger. “How -dare you!” she cried. “You accuse me of lying, you! _you!_ Why should I -not lie to you? You, whose whole presence here has been a lie since you -told me Etzooah could not speak English! You! with your mouth full of -hypocritical talk, pretending to be my friend while you plotted to rob -me! You unspeakable blackguard! It was lucky for me that I found a true -friend!” - -Gault’s face turned blackish; and his lips drew back over his teeth. He -raised his clenched fists over his head as if to strike Loseis down. But -the scared Moale touched his arm, and the blow never descended. A -terrible shudder went through Gault’s frame. He turned and strode -stiffly away. At the door of his house he curtly dismissed Moale, and -went in alone. - -Inside her own door, Loseis’ knees weakened under her, and she was glad -to sink into a chair. She covered her face in the effort to shut out -that truly frightful picture of rage. After all she was only a girl. Ah! -how thankful she would have been to have Conacher at her side then! - -Her weakness was but momentary. She hastened to the window, standing far -enough back to keep her face from showing at the pane. It was essential -for her to know what Gault was going to do. Suppose he and his men rode -after Conacher, she would have to follow, and let the Post look after -itself. Impossible to remain inactive! Her horse was as good as the -best. Should she not ride at once to warn Conacher? Her horse was in the -stable with Gault’s horses. But there were other horses she might catch. -No! No! First she must see what Gault was going to do. - -The Cree, Watusk, returned, and the four men were hanging around outside -the door, at a loss what to do. Suddenly Moale went in as if summoned by -a call. He immediately reappeared, spoke to the others, and they all -went into the corral and stable. In due course they came out leading all -of Gault’s remaining horses, eight in number, ready saddled; some to be -ridden, others to carry packs. They began to carry out their belongings -from the house. - -Now I must start! thought Loseis in a fever. But a more prudent voice -restrained her. You mustn’t let Gault see what you’re going to do! - -When the little train was ready, Gault came out of the house. To Loseis’ -astonishment he kept on across the square. He was coming to speak to -her. She began to tremble all over. Just the same, she was glad that she -had stayed. She went to the door, and waited for him in an unconcerned -pose. He should never guess that her heart was pounding. - -Gault had only partly succeeded in regaining his composure. He was -lividly pale; his lips moved with a curious stiffness; and there was an -ominous triangular furrow etched in his forehead. Without looking -directly at Loseis, he said in a controlled voice: - -“I have done my best to look after your affairs. You have rejected my -efforts at every turn. Well, if you have found somebody else to advise -you, there is nothing further for me to do here. I am returning to Fort -Good Hope.” - -With that, he faced about, and went to his horse. Loseis had not said -anything at all. The others were waiting in the saddle; and as soon as -Gault mounted they set off, Gault staring stiffly ahead of him, the -others looking askance at the girl lounging in the doorway. Around the -store, and up the side hill at the back. - -The instant they were out of sight Loseis sprang into action. Without -waiting for so much as coat or hat, she ran across to the stable, and -flung saddle on her horse. It was perfectly evident to her that Gault -was still lying. If he had, as he pretended, given up in disgust, he -would have ridden away without a word. The fact that he felt it -necessary to advertise his giving up was to her proof positive that he -was not giving up at all. - -Mary-Lou, seeing her mistress prepare to ride away, realized that she -would be left the last living soul at Blackburn’s Post. Panic seized -her. Running across the square, she met Loseis leading her horse out of -the stable. - -“Take me! Take me!” she gasped. - -Loseis was obliged to curb her headlong desire to be off. “Well . . . -well . . .” she said impatiently. “The buckskin is in the stable. I will -saddle him for you. Run back to the house. Fetch some grub. Shove my -riding clothes in a saddlebag. I’ll change on the trail.” - -As she tightened girths, Loseis reflected: Etzooah is familiar with the -triangle of country between the two trails, from having trapped it in -the winter. There is no cross trail, but it would be possible to lead -their horses through the bush, and across the coulee. Take a little -time, though. I shall be on the southerly trail ahead of them. . . . But -suppose they steal back here first to spy on me . . . ? - -A hard little smile wreathed Loseis’ lips. Hastily tying the horses to -the corral fence, she flew across the grass again. Meeting Mary-Lou -coming out of the house, she ordered her to put down the things, and -help her. In the house, Loseis tore the mattress off her bed, and -dragging it into the kitchen ripped it open. It was stuffed with moss. -Wetting the moss from the barrel of water which stood within the door, -she arranged it in the fireplace in such a way that it would smolder a -little at a time. - -“That will last out the day,” she said smiling. “Come on; let’s go!” - - - - - CHAPTER XV - SHADOWING - - -Loseis and Mary-Lou rode hard through the river-meadows and over the -gravelly ridges. There was no danger that anyone who followed would be -able to pick out the prints of their horses’ hoofs in the confusion of -tracks left by the fur train. When they gained the shelter of the wooded -country, some six miles from the Post, Loseis pulled up to a walk. It is -impossible to think at a gallop. She wished to canvass all the -possibilities of the situation again. - -She thought: The further they went along the trail before striking -across, the harder it would be to get over. Therefore if they intended -to come this way they would turn off as soon as possible. They would now -be behind me. . . . But I do not _know_ that Gault intends to ride after -the fur, though that is the likeliest thing for him to do. How foolish I -would look if I dashed ahead to warn Conacher, and then Gault never -came. Gault might be planning to steal back to the Post, and seize it. -Or he might have some devilish trick in mind that would never occur to -me. . . . I will not ride on until I make sure that he is on this trail. - -It is impossible to hide with horses alongside a traveled trail. The -horses are certain to betray you by whinnying at the approach of other -horses. Therefore, Loseis was obliged to ride on four miles further to -the Slavi village at the foot of the lake. Here she sent Mary-Lou across -the river with instructions to turn the horses out, and to lose herself -amongst the Slavis. - -Loseis walked back along the wooded trail, looking for a suitable place -of concealment. The river ran close alongside. On the river there was a -fringe of berry bushes at the base of the trees; but the water sparkled -through the interstices of the stems. No room to hide there. The other -side was more open; a thick brown carpet of pine needles that smothered -all undergrowth. Loseis began to run in feverish impatience. Suppose she -was surprised before she could hide herself. - -At last in a place where the sun broke through, she came upon a thick -clump of the high-bush cranberry on the inshore side of the trail. She -walked up and down the trail surveying it from every angle. It would -serve! She crept in, careful to leave no tell-tale marks of her passage. -She constructed herself a little cave amongst the leaves, that would -permit of a certain freedom of movement without betraying her by a -rustle. Here she crouched within two yards of the trail. - -It was very difficult to compose her impatient blood to wait. The -swollen river moved down, whispering and sucking under the bank. -Overhead a smooth, smoky-colored whisky-jack fluttered like a shadow -from branch to branch, cocking a suspicious eye down at her. Would he -betray her? thought Loseis anxiously. However he made up his mind after -awhile that she was a fixture, and faded away. In the distance Loseis -could hear the children and the dogs of the Slavi village. A dozen times -within a quarter hour Loseis looked at her watch; and each time put it -to her ear to make sure it had not stopped. - -A whole hour passed, and another one on top of that. Loseis was -beginning to ask herself if she were not on a fool’s errand. What ought -she to do? What ought she to do? Then she heard a sound that caused all -uncertainty to vanish: hoof-beats on the hard-packed trail. It was then -two o’clock. As the sound drew closer her brow knitted; only one horse; -that was not what she had expected; why should they send one man in -pursuit of Conacher? - -A minute later Etzooah rode by in the trail. He was not hurrying himself -at all; his horse was single-footing it gently; and the Indian rode with -his near leg thrown over the saddle horn, his body all relaxed and -shaking in the untidy native style. Etzooah, unaware of being observed, -looked thoroughly well pleased with himself. He hummed a chant under his -breath, and from force of habit his beady black eyes watched on every -side of him. Sharp as they were they perceived nothing amiss in the -clump of high-bush cranberry. - -When he had passed, Loseis after making sure that there were no more -coming, issued out of her hiding place, and started back for her horse, -considering. Her first impulse was to ride after Etzooah, but she -dismissed it with a shake of the head. No! No personal danger threatened -Conacher from Etzooah’s coming. This was just part of some tricky game -that Gault was playing. Etzooah might safely be left to Conacher to -handle. She must find out what Gault was about. There lay the real -danger. - -Obtaining her horse, and bidding Mary-Lou to remain where she was, -Loseis rode back towards the post. Having ridden about two miles, an -intuition warned her to dismount and lead her horse, that she might not -give undue warning of her passage. Shortly afterwards the mare suddenly -threw up her head and whickered. A moment later Loseis heard more -hoof-beats; several horses this time, pounding in a measured way that -suggested they were being ridden by men. - -Turning her horse, Loseis mounted and rode back a hundred yards or so to -a small stream that fell into the river. Dismounting in the water, she -cut her mare sharply across the withers, sending her galloping on in the -direction of the Indian village. Wading up the little stream, she -presently climbed the bank, and making a detour among the pines, pressed -herself close in to the stem of a young tree, with branches growing down -to the ground. It was not a perfect hiding-place; she was further from -the trail. - -The riders approached. They were walking their horses now. Gault, Moale -and one of the Crees; the other, Watusk, was missing. They had left -their pack-horses behind them. So they are not going far! thought -Loseis. Gault’s face, when he was alone with his men, wore an expression -that he had never permitted Loseis to see; a look of naked brutality -that made the girl shiver. It is the natural expression of that face, -she thought. - -Even before she could see their faces, Loseis heard Gault and Moale -talking back and forth. The first words she heard distinctly were spoken -by Gault. He said: - -“It must have been somewhere along here. I heard a horse run off along -the trail. I had not heard it before that. Sounded like some one might -have been waiting here.” - -“A loose horse startled away by our coming,” suggested Moale. “There are -plenty of them along the river.” - -“They don’t often run alone,” Gault pointed out. - -“A Slavi, then. I suspect they prowl up and down this trail.” - -“We don’t want them prowling around us,” growled the trader. - -“Let Musqua cry like the Weh-ti-go,” said Moale. - -The Cree, grinning, threw back his head and uttered the long-drawn, -wailing screech that is supposed to be the cry of that dreadful spirit. - -“They will say that it is Blackburn,” said Moale chuckling. - -There was a silence. - -“We mustn’t go too far,” said Gault. “Or we’ll be on top of the Slavi -village.” - -“What are you looking for?” asked Moale. - -“A dead tree alongside the trail that we can pull over.” - -For some reason these words struck a cold fear into Loseis’ breast. The -riders passed out of earshot. - -The trail wound in and out among the trunks as woodland trails do, and -you could never see more than twenty-five yards or so ahead or behind. -As soon as the men had gone, Loseis issued from her hiding-place, and -started to follow on foot. She could still hear the murmur of their -voices but not what they said. The leisureliness of their progress -puzzled her. They were not going much further. What could they be up to? -And the remaining Cree; what had become of him? - -She heard them pass through the little stream that crossed the trail. A -short distance beyond they stopped, apparently for the purpose of -holding a consultation. Loseis approached as close as she dared, but -could not make out their words. After awhile they left the trail. From -the sounds that reached her, Loseis understood that they were leading -their horses away amongst the trees. She went forward as far as the -stream, and ascended the bed of it, thus keeping roughly parallel with -the course they were taking. - -For a couple of hundred yards back from the river, the forest was -perfectly flat, and for the most part clear of undergrowth. The ground -then rose steeply, and on the hillside young trees and bushes crowded -up. The little stream came down through a ravine full of bowlders. -Loseis, concentrating on the faculty of hearing, gathered that men and -horses had made their way back to the foot of the rise, where they had -gone into camp for a spell. - -She climbed up the side of the ravine to a point well above their heads, -and then edged cautiously around the hill until she was directly over -the voices. Thereupon she began to let herself down softly, softly, an -inch at a time, choosing every foothold with circumspection, snaking her -body through the bushes with care not to create the slightest rustling. -Loseis as a child had not played with the Slavi children for nothing. - -She discovered at last that they had established themselves at the base -of a gigantic bowlder embedded in the side of the hill. The smoke of -their little fire was rising over the top. Loseis, descending from -above, worked her body by slow degrees out on top of the bowlder, where -she lay perfectly hidden, about fifteen feet above their heads. It would -have been too risky to attempt to peep over the edge of the stone, but -whether she could see them was immaterial to her, so she could hear. - -Her cautious progress around the hillside had consumed a good bit of -time, and when she arrived above the camp it was still. For a long time -she could hear nothing but the uneasy nosing of the horses, that had no -forage in that spot. They must have been tied, for they did not move -about. Loseis knew the men were still below her, for she detected a -faint aroma of tobacco, apart from the fumes of burning pine. At last, -startlingly, Gault’s quiet voice resolved itself out of the stillness. -He might have been speaking to herself. - -“No, don’t put any more on. If any of the Slavis happen to be traveling -up on the bench, the smoke would attract them. Just keep it going until -we’re ready to eat.” - -Moale asked: “When will you eat?” - -Gault replied: “We can only eat once. Put it off until evening.” - -Then silence again. Loseis feared that that which she so desired to hear -must already have been talked out between them. - -By and by she heard a horse single-footing it rapidly in the trail. - -“Here comes Watusk,” said Moale. - -From the sounds which succeeded Loseis made out that Musqua had been -stationed alongside the trail to intercept Watusk. They could presently -be heard approaching with the horse, through the trees below. As soon as -they were within speaking distance Gault said sharply: - -“Well?” - -A voice, presumably Watusk’s, replied: “Blackburn’s daughter, and the -Beaver girl are at the post.” - -The listening Loseis smiled to herself. - -“Did you see them?” asked Gault. - -“N’moya. They were in the house. How could I look in the house without -showing myself? There was smoke coming out of the chimney. For an hour I -watched it from the branches of a pine tree where the trail goes over -the hill.” - -“Maybe Blackburn’s daughter had left the Indian behind.” - -“N’moya.” - -“Watusk is right,” put in Moale’s voice. “After everybody else was gone, -no Indian would stay there alone; not with that new-made grave in -sight!” - -“It is well,” grumbled Gault. - -There was more talk about eating. Gault indifferently told the breeds -they could take theirs if they wanted, but they would get no more until -morning. - -More time passed. As is always the case with men waiting an event, they -found but little to say to each other. Sometimes the Crees discussed -their own concerns in low tones. Sometimes they all fell silent for so -long that Loseis supposed they had fallen asleep. Then suddenly Gault -and Moale took up the thread of a conversation as if it had been dropped -but a moment before. - -“Couldn’t we hang a noose in the trail?” asked Moale. - -“No way of keeping a noose spread,” returned Gault. “It’s better to -stretch the tracking line across the trail from tree to tree at such a -height that it will catch him under the chin. I hope it breaks his damn -neck. Most likely though, it will only yank him off his horse.” - -Loseis’ blood slowly congealed as she listened. There could be no doubt -who the “him” was that they referred to. - -“Then we’ll jump on him,” Gault went on; “and tie him up, and lay him in -the trail, and pull the tree over. I’ve got it all figured out. The -branches of that tree will stick out over the edge of the bank, -consequently the trunk will lie flat on the ground and break his back.” - -“It may not kill him outright,” suggested Moale. - -Loseis heard a horrible chuckle. Gault said: “Oh, I’ll stick around -until he dies. I don’t care if he lingers a bit. I hope he’ll have sense -enough to take in what I’ve got to tell him. If he lingers too long I’ll -stop his breath. You fellows can ride on. I’ve got the best horse. I’ll -overtake you. We’ll all have to ride like hell to get to Fort Good Hope -in time to establish a proper alibi.” - -There was a brief silence, then: - -“But there won’t be any trouble. Unless he’s found to-morrow, the -coyotes and the wolverines will have picked him clean. And in any case -the fallen tree, the broken back will tell their own tale. I’ll recover -the letter, of course, before I leave him.” - -“Hadn’t we better keep a watch alongside the trail?” Moale asked -uneasily. - -“Why?” - -“He might come along before dark?” - -“Impossible. I told Etzooah after he had located the camp, not to show -himself until the position of the sun showed eight o’clock. You can -trust a Slavi to keep cover. If Conacher jumped on his horse that minute -and ran him the whole way he couldn’t get back here till near midnight.” - -At last they had named their intended victim! - -“My only fear is that it may be daylight before he gets here,” said -Gault. “But of course we’ll get him anyhow.” - -“He may suspect a trick, and not come at all.” - -“Oh, sure!” said Gault unconcernedly. “But we had a damn persuasive -argument to use. If he don’t come by daylight we’ll go after him.” - -“And afterwards,” said Moale, “what you going to do afterwards?” - -Again the chuckle! “By and by I’ll ride back to Blackburn’s Post to -resume my courtship.” - -“She’ll be mourning for the other one then.” - -“What of it? It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman consoled herself -with the next best thing. It’s a very good time to tackle a woman. She’s -tender then.” - -Loseis had heard enough. She commenced to work herself backward off the -rock. She inched her way up hill in the same manner that she had come -down. She was doubly careful now, for another life beside her own -depended on her success. When she had got high enough to be out of -earshot, she turned in the other direction from that she had come, and -making a wide detour, regained the trail a good furlong beyond Gault’s -camp, and set off to recover her horse. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - WITH CONACHER - - -Conacher’s spirits rose somewhat with the sun. It was impossible for a -healthy man to be altogether miserable under that tender, beaming sky. -The lovely, changing prospects of the parklike country through which -Blackburn’s River flowed, made the heart swell. Conacher loved, and was -loved in return. An apparition of the exquisite Loseis continually swam -before his eyes. He was anxious; but he kept saying to himself as a -civilized man will: Oh well, nothing serious can happen nowadays. - -In the more open places, it was thrilling to see the long, laden train -of horses stretching ahead; winding over a ridge; trotting down into the -bottoms. The imagination was arrested by the thought of the riches -stored in that endless succession of brown packs. It was like a picture -to illustrate an old fairy tale. Thoughts of Aladdin and Sindbad flitted -through the young man’s mind. Riches!—not represented by a trifling row -of figures in a book, but visibly spread before his eyes. Come to think -of it, Aladdin married a princess, too. An insipid miss in bloomers -according to the pictures; nothing like the darkly vivid Loseis! - -Among other directions for the journey, Loseis had warned Conacher not -to allow the Slavis to cross the river to loiter in their village. It -occurred to the young man that he would not be able to prevent this -while he brought up the tail of the procession, so he took advantage of -one of the river meadows to urge his horse to the head of the line. By -Tatateecha’s crestfallen look at his approach, he judged that he had -acted rightly. It was his first good look at the rotund, greasy little -head man of the Slavis. Tatateecha was better favored than the run of -the Slavis; but that was not saying much. He had a neat, Buster Brown -hair-cut, and a red fillet bound around his brow. - -Tatateecha edged his horse out of the line, and fell back to consult -with the next man. They were like a pair of children conspiring -together, with sharp, calculating glances at Conacher. The white man -affected not to notice them. Presently Tatateecha came back to him all -smiles. Conacher had had no experiences of the Slavis, but he knew -something about the Indian nature in general. He’s going to try to put -something over on me now, he thought. - -Tatateecha by means of animated signs conveyed to Conacher that his -village lay a short way ahead; and that it would be the best place to -spell. Splendid grass for the horses. - -“Not on your life!” said Conacher, with vigorous pantomime of denial. He -indicated to Tatateecha that there would be no spell until the sun had -traveled a space equal to two hours. - -The Slavi broke into speech; but Conacher had him at a disadvantage -there, by not understanding a word of it. The white man continued to -point to the sun. Tatateecha became aggrieved; almost tearful in his -protestations. Then, bringing his horse close to Conacher’s he signified -with a winning air, that he himself was perfectly willing to go further; -but the rest of the men would refuse to go at all, unless they were -permitted to say good-by to their families. Conacher replied by signs -that if they refused to go and fetch the grub and ammunition, when the -snow covered the ground there would be no grub, no meat, and the people -would starve. This argument was unanswerable, and Tatateecha fell back -sulking. - -Shortly afterwards the village hove in sight across the river. The -people lined up on the edge of the bank yelling; and Conacher’s men -yelled back. All knew that the white man could not understand their -tongue; and Conacher guessed that they were making pretty free with him. -It was a trying situation; but he preserved his imperturbable air. - -The river issued out of the lake by means of a wide, shallow, brawling -rapid. At the present high stage of water, there was but one possible -place to ford, and this could not be managed even on horseback without -danger of a wetting. At the point where the trail forked, Conacher -backed his horse into the arm which ran down the bank, and held him -there blocking the way. The Slavis jabbered angrily from one to another; -the whole train was brought to a stand. - -Tatateecha approached Conacher to expostulate. The white man pointed -with his whip down the main trail. Tatateecha attempting to speak again, -Conacher suddenly urged his horse forward, and cutting the Indian’s -horse smartly across the flank, sent him careering down the main trail, -the only way that was open. The train got in motion again. The other -Slavis, seeing that Conacher meant what he said, filed past him -sullenly. The people across the river fell silent. Conacher fell in at -the tail of the procession again. Ten minutes later his feather-headed -Slavis were singing and chaffing each other in the best temper -imaginable. - -But Conacher had to keep a sharp look-out for deserters. Time and again, -one or another of the Slavis edged his horse in among the trees with the -object of circling around and gaining the trail behind Conacher. The -white man found that he could best defeat this maneuver by falling back -a quarter of a mile. In that position he would come face to face with -the astonished deserter, who thought he had already eluded him. Caught -in the act, they made no attempt to resist his commanding voice. When -they spelled at last, Conacher, without appearing to, anxiously counted -his men. He had lost one. With dinner in prospect there was no danger of -their making off. As soon as they had eaten he distributed plugs of -tobacco. - -Upon reaching the lake the trail turned sharp to the eastward for some -miles. In order to provide a firm footing it had to encircle the edge of -the wooded country, far back from the water. The vast lake meadows at -this season were like a saturated sponge underfoot. For three sleeps, -Tatateecha explained, they would be traveling alongside these meadows; -and then, climbing through a pass in the hills, would come to the -prairie, where they would find the buffalo grass which made horses fat. -This bottom grass filled them up, but did not stick to their ribs. -Tatateecha was very ingenious in the sign language. When they spelled he -was perfectly good-humored again; attaching himself to Conacher like a -friendly child. - -For two full hours they allowed the horses to feed, before rounding them -up again. Conacher would dearly have liked to sleep (as all the Slavis -did) but dared not. However, because of the tobacco he had handed out, -or because they were getting too far away from home, or for some other -reason, the Slavis appeared to have reconciled themselves. There were no -further attempts to desert. It was impossible to tell what was going on -inside their skulls. - -Then for five hours longer they continued on their way. The character of -the route never changed. For mile after mile the brown ribbon of earth -threaded in and out amongst the trunks of the pines, climbing the little -unevenness of ground; crossing small water-courses. On their left hand -the vast sea of grass was generally in sight through the trees, with a -suggestion of water on the horizon; sometimes for considerable distances -the trail followed the actual line between grass and timber. - -At about six o’clock they halted for the night. It seemed a pity not to -take advantage of the four remaining hours of daylight; but when -Conacher looked at the grass-fed horses, sweaty and drooping, he -perceived the necessity for camping. The horses were turned out in the -grass; the Slavis built their fire at the foot of the bank; while -Conacher spread his bed on top in a grove of pines running out to a -point, whence he could survey both horses and men. - -He spent the early part of the evening fraternizing with his men amidst -great laughter when, as frequently happened, the language of signs broke -down. About eight o’clock he retired to his own little fire above, and -rolled up in a blanket. The sun had not yet sunk out of sight; but it -was planned to start at four next morning. As he lay there day-dreaming, -he was greatly astonished to see a Slavi Indian quietly approaching -between the trees at the back of the point. - -He sat up. All the Slavis looked very much alike to him; but he -instantly recognized that this was not one of those who had accompanied -him all day. There was a suggestion of secrecy in his approach. A rather -better physical specimen than the average Slavi, his face bore the -childish, deceitful grin that was characteristic of them all. His teeth -were blackened and broken; on the whole, an unpleasant-looking -individual. He held out an envelope towards Conacher; and the young man -leaped to his feet full of a vague alarm. - -“Who are you?” he asked involuntarily. - -The Indian, grinning, shook his head like a dog, and pointed to his ear; -the usual sign for not understanding. - -Conacher pointed to himself, and said “Conacher.” He then pointed to the -Indian. - -“Saltahta,” said the man. - -Conacher took the envelope. It bore no superscription. Tearing it open, -his heart was filled with warmth at the sight of Loseis’ signature in -big round characters. The letter had been written on the typewriter in -the stammering style of the beginner. Conacher had had such a letter -from Loseis down river. This one was brief. - -“There is something wrong here. Gault is plotting mischief. I am afraid. -The man who takes this to you is a good man. Let him go with the outfit, -and you come back to me.” - -As he read, all Conacher’s warmth was chilled. Suspicion leaped into his -mind full-grown. There was a vagueness about the letter that was not -like Loseis. Moreover he doubted if she would ever confess to being -afraid, even if she were afraid. And why should she sign her full name; -Laurentia Blackburn. On the other letter it had been simply Laurentia. -He remembered the sheets that Gault had made her sign for him, and -smiled to himself. Really, the plot was too transparent. He, Conacher, -was to be drawn off, and the fur diverted to Gault’s uses under guidance -of this Indian. Loseis had told him of a Slavi who was in Gault’s pay. - -Suddenly putting his finger on the man’s breast, Conacher said: -“Etzooah.” - -The Slavi looked at him with perfect, stupid blankness, and shook his -head. “Saltahta,” he repeated. - -“Tatateecha!” called Conacher. - -The little head man came climbing up the bank. Whatever his astonishment -at the sight of the newcomer, nothing showed in his face. - -“Who is this man?” demanded Conacher, putting his finger on the Slavi. - -“Saltahta,” said the newcomer quickly. - -“Saltahta,” repeated Tatateecha like a parrot. - -Conacher bit his lip. With a jerk of his head he dismissed Tatateecha. -The other man made as if to follow. - -“You stay where you are!” cried Conacher. - -Whether or not the man understood English, the gesture which accompanied -the words was amply significant, and he stopped in his tracks. He began -to whine pitifully in his own tongue, pointing to his lips and hugging -his stomach. - -“I don’t give a damn how hungry you are,” said Conacher. “I mean to keep -you under my eye until I decide what to do.” - -The Indian sat down at the foot of a tree, and pathetically exhibited -his empty pipe to the white man. Conacher tossed him the remainder of a -plug of tobacco, which he began to shave with an air of philosophic -indifference. - -There was an agonizing struggle going on in Conacher’s breast. Though he -had every reason in the world to believe that letter a trick, he found -that he _could not disregard it_. There was still one chance in a -thousand that it was genuine, and it was a chance he could not take. He -had been unwilling enough in the first place to leave Loseis; this -little doubt tipped the scale. With that doubt of her safety in his mind -he recognized that it would be simply impossible for him to go on day -after day always putting a greater distance between them. “Oh, to hell -with the fur!” he said to himself; and in that moment his mind was made -up. - -But he had no notion of swallowing Gault’s bait (if such it was) whole. -He lit a pipe to stimulate his mental processes, and puffed at it -leaning against a tree, and gazing down at the innocent-eyed Indian -speculatively. He thought: I shall take you back with me, my man. -Tatateecha is a good way from home now, and he’s been over this route -many times. He ought to be able to deliver the fur to Gruber. But in any -case I’d sooner trust him than you. Whether you like it or not, you -shall come back with me. - -It seemed important to Conacher not to allow the newcomer to communicate -with the other Slavis. Removing the handkerchief from about his neck, he -therefore forced the astonished Indian to put his hands around the tree -behind him, and firmly bound his wrists together. The captive loudly and -plaintively protested; it was clear that things were not turning out in -the way that he expected. - -Conacher then went down the bank to consult with Tatateecha. None of the -Slavis had rolled up for the night. Their faces were perfectly wooden; -but the white man sensed a certain strain in the atmosphere. Evidently -Tatateecha had told them of the newcomer’s arrival, and it had excited -them. As well as he could, Conacher signified to the head man that he -was going back to Blackburn’s Post; and that he wanted two of the least -tired horses to be caught. - -Pointing up to the top of the bank, Tatateecha asked an eager question. - -“He goes with me,” said Conacher, illustrating with signs. - -He thought he saw a look of relief appear in the Slavi faces. However -they volunteered no information. Again he asked Tatateecha the man’s -name, and received the same answer: “Saltahta.” Strange creatures! -Apparently they knew of no way of dealing with the strong and terrifying -white man except to hide as much as possible from them. - -Men were sent away to catch the required horses, and Conacher took out -pencil and note-book to write his letter to Gruber. He wished to do this -in the sight of Tatateecha, knowing what a superstitious reverence all -the remoter tribes have for the act of writing. And it was quite true -that Tatateecha, out of the corners of his eyes, followed every move of -the pencil with a look of uneasy awe. Conacher wrote: - - “Hector Blackburn was killed on June 3rd by falling over a cliff - with his horse. Matthew Gault has come to Blackburn’s Post where - he is trying to take advantage of the helpless situation of - Blackburn’s daughter. She has written to you, but supposes that - the letter has not been allowed to go through. We are sending - you the fur in charge of Tatateecha because we have nobody else. - If you get this letter send us help quickly. Send the police if - possible; at any rate send white men. I have promised Tatateecha - a credit of one hundred skins if he places this letter in your - hands.” - - “Paul Conacher, Dominion Geological Survey.” - -Conacher inclosed this letter in the torn envelope, since he had no -other, and offered it to Tatateecha. The Indian received it gingerly and -wrapped it in a fold of the gay worsted sash he wore. Conacher explained -whom it was for, and told Tatateecha he should receive goods to the -value of a hundred skins when it was delivered. To convey the figure, -the white man patiently broke up tiny twigs to the required number. -Tatateecha’s eyes widened in delighted cupidity. In that moment he could -be depended on; the question was, could his feather-head hold to a -resolution long enough to carry it through? - -The two horses were driven up on top of the bank. The Slavis jeered and -pointed at the predicament of the one who called himself Saltahta. If it -had been Tatateecha or Conacher himself, they would have done just the -same. By Conacher’s orders, they offered to feed the captive, but he -refused it. When his horse, which was found tied to a tree near by, was -led in, it was discovered that he had plenty of bread and meat tied to -his saddle. - -Saddle and bridle were transferred to one of the fresher horses, and the -man was bidden to mount. His hands were tied behind him; and his feet -tied with a loose thong under the horse’s belly. The Slavis yelled in -derision, and slapped their thighs. Conacher would have given a good -deal to have understood the epithets they bestowed on the prisoner. A -leading rein was improvised out of a piece of tracking line. Tying -blanket and food to his own saddle, Conacher mounted, and rode off -leading the other horse. - -For a long time he could hear the laughter of the Slavis. He wondered if -they could make any more of the situation than he could, or if their -laughter was as meaningless as it sounded. In the hands of these -crack-brained savages, he bitterly reflected, rested not only the fate -of that fortune in skins, but also the hope of Loseis and him receiving -help from the outside world. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - THE MEETING - - -Three hours later the two horses were still jogging in the same manner -along the forest trail. In the beginning the prisoner had sought to make -as much trouble as possible by beating his heels against his horse’s -ribs, rendering the animal almost unmanageable. Conacher had then put -him in front, telling him to beat away, whereupon the Slavi had become -very quiet. The tiring horse hung back more and more, and in order to -make any progress at all, Conacher had been obliged to take the lead, -and pull the other after. - -The moon was now high. Little moonlight penetrated through the trees, -but the general brightness made traveling easier. A slow trot was the -best that Conacher could get out of the horses. Even that pace was not -without danger at night. Had not the trail been freshly cleaned up that -day for the passage of the fur train, they could not have done it. - -Conacher figured that he was within two or three miles of the Slavi -village. In two hours more he would make Blackburn’s Post. His heart -leaped at the thought of rousing Loseis up in the middle of the night. -How astonished she would be! He would hold her in his arms again! He -urged his horse forward, and gave the leading rein a jerk. - -Not but what he had certain doubts, too, of his reception. Loseis might -blame him for returning; would want to send him away again perhaps. -Conacher firmly shook his head in the darkness. No! whatever the truth -of the situation, it was better for them to remain together. Nothing -should persuade him to leave her again. - -As Conacher, dreaming, jogged along between the half-seen pillars of the -pines rising into obscurity, his wearied horse threw up his head and -whinnied. The rider instinctively drew up to listen. A sound of fear -broke from the man behind. Presently, out of the stillness of the forest -came a faint, answering whinny from ahead. Clapping heels to his horse, -Conacher rode to meet it. - -The Slavi moaned in fear. “Stop!” he said. “It is not good. There is -nobody here.” - -“Ha!” said Conacher. “You have found your English, eh?” He continued to -urge his horse forward. - -They turned into a natural avenue through the trees where the moonlight -came flooding down. At the end of this glade, seen first as a dim gray -ghost, and gradually resolving itself into the lineaments of life, they -perceived a motionless horse and rider blocking the trail. For a second, -such a sight in that awful solitude caused even Conacher’s heart to -fail; but he did not pull up. As for the Indian, a strangled squall of -terror escaped him, and he fell to gibbering incoherently. He was -perfectly helpless. Tied as he was, he could not throw himself off his -horse without the certainty of being trampled. - -Drawing closer, a wild, joyous suspicion sprang up in Conacher’s breast; -then certainty. It was Loseis in her boy’s dress, sitting astride the -sorrel mare. Flinging themselves off their horses, they flew to each -other’s arms, careless of the on-looker. - -“Loseis, my darling!” murmured Conacher. “What are you doing here?” - -She was all woman then. “Oh, Paul . . . Oh, Paul . . . !” she faltered. -“I came to warn you. Gault is waiting in the trail to kill you!” - -“To kill me!” he echoed amazed. - -A hasty, confused explanation took place. They lowered their voices that -the Indian might not overhear. - -“I did not send you that letter,” said Loseis. - -“I know it.” - -“Why did you come back then?” - -“I _had_ to come. . . . Do you blame me?” - -“No! No! It is all right. If you had not come they would have ridden -after you. I can best take care of you here.” - -Conacher laughed half in delight, half sorely. “You take care of me! I -like that! . . . How did you know they had sent me a letter?” - -“I crept up to them in the woods. I listened.” She gave him the gist of -what she had overheard. - -“Good God!” cried Conacher in his simplicity. “Think of anybody wanting -to kill _me_!” Catching hold of the leading line, he jerked the Indian -into the full moonlight. “Who is this man?” he said. - -“Etzooah,” said Loseis with half a glance. - -“I thought so,” said Conacher grimly. “According to the letter he was to -have gone with the outfit; but I thought I had better bring him with -me.” - -“You did well,” said Loseis. - -Tying the horses to trees, they walked away a little in the trail. For -awhile they were completely filled with the joy of being together again. -The difficulties ahead had to wait. - -“Oh, my darling, when I realized that it was you, my heart nearly burst -with joy. It was so unexpected, so lovely to find you waiting quietly in -the moonlight!” - -“Oh, Paul, it makes up for everything to have known you! I don’t care -what happens now.” - -“You must have been waiting here alone for hours. How could you dare to -do it?” - -“Why . . . I had to do it. I never thought twice about it.” - -“You are the bravest girl in the world!” - -“Oh, no! I’m just an ordinary girl who is in love with you.” - -“I don’t deserve it!” he murmured. - -“Well . . . neither do I!” - -When they returned to earth, Conacher said simply: “What shall I do with -this Indian now? Put a bullet through his head?” - -“Oh, no! no!” said Loseis nervously. “There must be no killing.” - -“They started it,” said Conacher. - -“I wanted to kill Gault myself,” said Loseis quaintly; “but I struggled -against it.” - -Conacher laughed. “Little fire-eater!” he said, hugging her close. - -“We must be serious now,” she said pushing him away. - -“I’ll have to turn the man loose then,” said Conacher. “And let him find -his way to his friends on foot.” - -“That will be best,” said Loseis. “They are waiting about four miles -from here. It will give us time to get out of the way.” - -“The horses are so tired,” exclaimed Conacher. “And it must be eighteen -miles to the fur-camp. They will die under us before we get there.” - -“But we are not going there,” said Loseis. “If I had meant that, I would -have ridden right through.” - -“Where else can we go?” said Conacher, opening his eyes. - -“Gault and his men would be up with us almost as soon as we broke camp -in the morning. The Slavis would run away. How could we protect -ourselves there in the open? Neither you nor I would ever be seen alive -again. How easy for Gault to explain that there had been an accident. -There would be no witnesses but his men.” - -“What do you propose then?” said Conacher gravely. - -“I have been thinking about it all these hours. We will go back to -Blackburn’s Post. There we will be on our own ground. There are strong -buildings to protect us, and plenty of grub and ammunition. It would be -more difficult for Gault to make out that there had been an accident -there.” - -“Right!” said Conacher. “You have a head on you! Whatever happens we -will never be parted again.” - -“Never!” she said going to his arms. - -“One of us will not be left!” - -“I swear it!” she said kissing him. - -Conacher felt the strength of ten men coursing through his veins. “Come -on!” he said briskly. “How do you propose to get by the men waiting in -the trail?” - -“We will take a canoe at the Slavi village. Mary-Lou is waiting there. -She will stick to us. She is not brave, but her heart is true.” - -“Good!” said Conacher. “Now for this red-skinned blackguard. How about -taking him with us to the Post? Gault would then ride after the fur at -daybreak and we’d gain a day.” - -“What good would that do us?” said Loseis. “He would be back at the Post -by night. And in the meantime the Slavis would be scattered. Tatateecha -is our best hope of getting help from the outside.” - -“All right,” said Conacher. “But it goes against the grain to turn the -scoundrel loose.” - -Taking out his knife, he proceeded to cut the cringing Indian’s bonds. -“You filthy wretch!” he cried; “you mangy, verminous coyote! If you got -your deserts I would be sticking this knife between your ribs! Go back -to your master and tell him . . .” - -“Wait!” cried Loseis. “Not a word! Gault won’t know how much we know. -Let him guess!” - -Conacher swallowed his anger. Etzooah slipped from his horse, and -crawled on the ground like a whipped cur. - -Loseis and Conacher mounted and rode on, driving the third horse in -front of them. Etzooah, cramped from his long confinement in bonds, -staggered along slowly behind them. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - CONFUSION - - -When he came to the Slavi village after his long walk, Etzooah crossed -the ford, and sticking his head inside the first tepee, awakened the -sleepers with a yell. He demanded to know if Yellow-Head and Blackburn’s -daughter had been seen. A grumbling voice replied that they had taken a -canoe and gone down river. Searching for a horse, Etzooah perceived that -the whites in their haste had turned out their horses without unsaddling -them. The sorrel mare eluded him; she disliked the Indian smell; but he -caught the horse he had already ridden so far. It would serve for the -short distance he had still to go. Refording the river, he proceeded -along the trail. - -It was not Gault’s habit to confide in his creatures any further than he -was forced to. Etzooah’s job had been to steer the fur train east across -the prairie and hit the big river at Fisher Point, where the fur could -be picked up later by the launch and a scow from Good Hope. Etzooah -might have guessed that a short shrift was waiting for Conacher at -Blackburn’s Post, but he had been told nothing of the details of the -plot, which, indeed, had been concocted after his departure. Etzooah -expected to find Gault and his men camped within a mile or so of the -Post, where he had left them earlier that day. - -Ere he had gone two miles beyond the Slavi village, the miserable Indian -rode fairly into the trap set for the white man. He was pounding along -at a good rate over this well-traveled part of the trail, one knee -hooked around the horn of his saddle, as was his custom. The thin line, -stretched as taut as a wire across the trail, caught him under the chin, -and lifted his body clear of the saddle. His knee held him; the horse -reared; Etzooah’s head was dragged back between his shoulders. As the -horse’s forefeet dropped back to the ground, there was a horrible soft -crack heard. The man’s body came away from the saddle, and dropped -limply in the trail. The terrified horse ran on. - -There was a loud laugh of bravado amongst the trees. Gault stepped out -into the trail. “Worked like a charm!” he said. “I think his neck is -broke.” - -Moale dropped to one knee beside the huddled body, and struck a match. -“God! . . . It’s Etzooah!” he gasped. - -“Etzooah! . . . Etzooah . . . !” said Gault stupidly. - -The match had dropped from Moale’s nerveless fingers. He fumbled with -another. At last the little flame sprang up. “Look!” he said. “Look!” - -“God Almighty!” cried Gault. “What’s he doing back here?” - -Moale was feeling under the man’s head. “He’ll never tell you,” he said -grimly. “His neck is broke.” - -Gault said anxiously: “See if he has the letter on him.” - -A search revealed that the letter was gone. - -“Then he has been to Conacher,” said Gault. “Drag him into the bush, and -we’ll go get that white man.” - -“If his body should be found . . .” suggested Moale. “Hadn’t we better -drop the tree on him as planned for the other?” - -“Hell! I’m not going to waste that trick on a redskin! I may want it -later. Pitch him in the river. The current will carry him far beyond the -sight of mankind.” - -But as Moale started to obey, Gault changed his mind again. “Wait,” he -said. “I’ll help you to hoist his body out of way of the coyotes. -Conacher was the last man who saw Etzooah alive, understand? We will use -that later.” - -The Indian’s body, still warm, was hung over two spruce branches. The -Crees were summoned to fetch the horses from their hiding-place, and -Gault and his three men rode south. - -It was full day and the Slavis were packing the horses, in the spongy -meadow, when the four big men rode violently down the little pine-clad -point. Instantly the Slavis jumped on horses and scattered far and wide -in the sea of grass. - -Gault had his eye on Tatateecha. “Let them go,” he shouted to his men. -He caught the plump headman by the collar as he was climbing on a horse, -and flung him in the grass. “Now then!” he said with an oath. “Where’s -the white man?” It was a simple matter to signify Conacher’s curling -yellow hair and blue eyes. - -Another discomfiture awaited the furious trader. Tatateecha, delighted -to find that Conacher, and not himself, was the object of Gault’s wrath, -gave, in signs, a graphic and perfectly truthful account of how Etzooah -had arrived the night before and had given Conacher a letter; and how -Conacher after reading the letter had put Etzooah on a horse tied hand -and foot and had ridden back, leading him. Tatateecha said nothing about -the letter Conacher had given him, which was burning a hole in his -stomach at that moment. - -Gault swore violently, and Tatateecha edged out of reach of his boot. -The trader was forced to apply to Moale in his perplexity. “What do you -make of it?” he said. “Etzooah was not tied up when we found him?” - -Moale shrugged. “One thing is clear,” he said, “We’ve passed Conacher -somewhere.” - -“Then catch fresh horses and we’ll ride back!” shouted Gault. - -“The fur? . . .” suggested Moale, casting desirous eyes on the scattered -bales. - -“To hell with the fur! I’m going to get that white man first!” - -At six o’clock in the morning they were back at the Slavi village. -Splashing through the ford, the first native they came upon was a bent -crone, too old to get out of the way. Out of her dim eyes she looked at -Gault with indifferent scorn. In reply to the usual question about the -white man with the curling hair the color of the sun, she told in signs -that he had ridden there in the night when the paleness of the sky was -in the north (midnight). Etzooah was not with him then. The white man -turned out his horse, took a canoe, and paddled down river. - -“Gone back to the girl,” growled Gault. “But what in hell could have -warned him that we were laying for him in the trail!” - -Moale suddenly perceived the well-known sorrel mare grazing amongst the -other horses. She was still saddled and bridled. The eyes almost started -out of his head. “Look!” he cried pointing. - -It was one of the nastiest shocks that Gault had received. He stared at -the animal with hanging jaw. “How did that mare get here?” he demanded -hoarsely. - -The old woman replied by signs that Loseis had come with Conacher in the -night. - -“What!” shouted Gault. “_What!_ . . . Why in hell didn’t you say so -before?” - -The very old woman looked at him calmly. Her glance said: You didn’t ask -me! - -The furious Gault was incapable of dealing with her. Moale, calmer and -warier, plied her for further information. She described how Loseis had -been up and down in the trail all day. Loseis must have seen Etzooah -pass at midday, but she had not come back to the village for her horse -until near evening. - -“Then in God’s name what was she doing all afternoon?” muttered Gault, a -certain fear striking into his rage. - -Nothing further was to be learned here. The four men rode on in the -direction of Blackburn’s Post. Moale and the two Crees gave their master -a good dozen yards’ lead in the trail. The passions of hell were working -in the trader’s black face. Moale was gray and the Indians yellowish -with fatigue and apprehension. It was a safe guess that all three would -have been glad then to get out of this ugly business; but they were -bound to their master a hundred times over; there was no possibility of -dissociating their fortunes from his. They were not bothered by moral -scruples; but they feared that Gault’s passions had mastered him to such -an extent that he was no longer capable of listening to the counsels of -prudence. - -At a point about a mile short from the Post, they turned out of the -trail, and followed the summit of one of the gravelly ridges, picking -their way slowly through the scrub. Soon the timber and brush became too -thick for them to guide their horses through, and they were obliged to -dismount and lead them. After a mile and a half of the roughest sort of -going, which included the crossing of a gorge-like coulee, they came out -on the trail to Fort Good Hope in a little prairie dotted with clumps of -poplars. Here they had left their outfit the day before, and had turned -out their remaining horses hobbled. - -They cooked and ate a meal in sullen silence. Afterwards Gault -dispatched Moale into the Post to spy out the situation. - -“Tell her,” he said with stiff and bitter lips, “that I couldn’t rest -for thinking of her alone there, and I sent back to ask if she was all -right.” - -Moale, in his impassive way, set off without expressing any opinion as -to the usefulness of this errand. - -He was back by the time the sun had completed a quarter of its journey -across the sky. Gault was sitting hunched up in the grass almost -precisely as he had left him. In twenty-four hours the trader had not -slept. He sprang up at the sight of Moale. - -“Well?” he demanded with cruel eagerness. - -“I found the two girls in the Women’s House . . .” Moale began. - -“Alone?” snarled Gault. - -“Alone. Everything looked as usual. When I delivered your message, -Loseis listened politely, but her eyes were full of hard laughter. She -did not believe me.” - -“What did she say?” - -“She told me to thank you, and to tell you that there was nothing she -required.” - -“What then?” - -“Conacher, having seen me come, came hurrying across from the men’s -house.” - -“Without concealment?” - -“Why should there be any concealment? They cannot know that Etzooah is -dead. They think Etzooah has told us all.” - -“Damnation!” muttered the trader. “I am all in the dark! . . . Go on!” - -“Conacher had a gun over his arm. . . .” - -“A gun?” echoed Gault in angry alarm. - -“A gun. I did not have any talk with Conacher. He left it to the girl.” - -“What else did she say?” - -“She asked me where we were camped. I replied that we had made but a -short stage yesterday, because you were anxious about her. It amused her -to hear me lie. She didn’t say anything; but only looked at the -three-bar brand on my horse’s flank.” - -Gault broke out in furious cursing. “You fool! Why didn’t you change to -one of the horses we left here?” - -“Those horses are not broke for riding.” - -“You could have managed.” - -“What difference does it make?” said Moale impassively. “They know all.” - -“How _can_ they know?” cried Gault. “Go on!” - -“I told her that we had come upon a bunch of her horses, and I had -borrowed one to ride back, so I could save my own. She knew I was lying, -of course. Her horses do not range on this side of the coulee. But she -said nothing. She asked me politely if I would eat before riding back. I -had just eaten, but I said I would, thinking I might learn something by -staying.” - -“The Beaver girl served me in the kitchen. While I was eating Loseis and -Conacher were talking together outside the house. They talked low, but -my ears are very sharp. I caught enough of the words to be able to piece -together the sense of the whole. Conacher wanted to tell me everything, -and try to win me to their side. I heard him say: ‘Insane with -jealousy.’ He meant you. His idea was that there was no reason why I -should risk my neck for you. But the girl would not agree. She said you -had only sent me over there to get information, and if they told me -anything it would be playing right into your hand. So nothing was told -me. When I had eaten, some more polite speeches were made, and I rode -away.” - -“You think . . . ?” said Gault, knitting his brows. - -“I am sure that they know all,” said Moale. “The girl must have been -skulking in the woods yesterday afternoon. She has doubtless learned the -Slavi tricks of hiding and moving softly. The way Conacher snatched up -his gun shows what they expect of us.” - -Gault revealed the big teeth in an ugly smile. “Well . . .” he said -slowly, “we won’t disappoint them. We’re in so deep now, we’ve got to go -the whole way. . . .” - -“You mean . . . ?” asked Moale with his enigmatic eyes fixed intently on -Gault’s face. - -Gault nodded somberly. “The girl _and_ the man,” he said. “Before -anybody comes in.” - -Moale shrugged acquiescently. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - PREPARING FOR DANGER - - -As soon as Moale rode away Loseis, Conacher and Mary-Lou held a council. -The sense of common danger drew them very close together; their hearts -were soft towards each other. The whites treated the Indian girl exactly -as one of themselves. But poor Mary-Lou was not of much help to them. -Terror had her in its grip again. - -The sunshine drew them outside the door of the Women’s House. Loseis -cast her eyes about the scene. “Ah! how beautiful the world is!” she -murmured. “Only men spoil it!” - -“Cheer up!” said Conacher stoutly. “They haven’t got us yet!” - -“I do not mind danger!” said Loseis quickly. “But such wickedness hurts -my breast. It spoils life!” - -“I know,” said Conacher. “You cannot believe in it.” - -“Well, never mind our feelings,” said Loseis with a shake of her black -mane. “What have we got to expect now?” - -“We’ve got the time it will take Moale to ride to his master and -report,” said Conacher. - -“But he’s waiting close by, of course,” said Loseis. “He may even be -watching us from the top of the hill.” - -“The simplest thing would be for Gault to ride down and break in the -door with an ax,” said Conacher. “If he does, I’ll blow the top of his -head off,” he added grimly. - -Loseis shook her head. “Gault never does the simple thing.” - -“He may lose his head.” - -“Moale is there to remind him to be cautious. . . . No! Gault will never -attack us in the open. Not while we stick together. I feel that from the -inside. He doesn’t care what you would think; but he is too conceited to -let me _see_ what a beast he can be.” - -“When it came to the final point,” said Conacher, “I don’t believe he -could harm you.” - -“He’s _got_ to kill me now,” said Loseis simply. “I know too much.” - -Conacher walked around the Women’s House, studying it. When he returned -he said: “I think we had better make this our fortress. There are no -windows in the back; it will be the easiest building to defend. And more -comfortable for you girls. I’ll bring over my bed and bunk in the -kitchen. You two take the inner room. . . . That is, if you agree.” - -“You are the captain,” said Loseis with a warm glance. - -“Well, we won’t quarrel over who’s the boss,” said Conacher. “Our first -job must be to stock up with food, water, ammunition and firewood.” - -They scattered to these tasks, glad to have something to occupy their -hands. Expecting momentarily to be interrupted, they worked hard and -swiftly, always keeping their ears sharpened for hoof-beats on the -trail. But there were no alarms. Midday came; they finished their work; -and Blackburn’s Post still basked undisturbed in the sunshine. - -While Mary-Lou cooked the dinner, Conacher took stock of their supplies. -There was ample food, firewood and ammunition—they had taken care to -transfer the entire stock of ammunition from the store; but the water -supply gave him cause for anxiety. The entire stock of vessels capable -of holding water consisted of three small kegs, half a dozen pails and -some small pots. The Slavis carried water in birch-bark receptacles. - -“Barely a week’s supply,” said Conacher ruefully. - -“If the worst comes to the worst we’ll have to cut out washing,” said -Loseis smiling. “The Slavis get along without washing.” - -After dinner they lounged in front of the house again. This was the -hardest time to put in. The uncertainty of what to expect kept them -keyed up to a painful pitch. Conacher wished to creep up to the top of -the hill to reconnoiter; but Loseis would not hear of it. - -“Would you take me with you?” she asked. - -He shook his head. - -“No, of course not!” said Loseis. “You know very well we might walk -smack into a trap.” - -They endlessly discussed their chances. - -“If Tatateecha makes thirty miles again to-day,” said Conacher; “that -will complete one-fifth of the whole distance. . . .” - -“Better not count too much on Tatateecha,” warned Loseis. “He is as -reliable as water.” - -“I know,” said Conacher. “But there’s no harm in figuring. . . . Say he -makes the warehouse in eight more days. If Gruber started back -instantly—and of course he would on getting my letter; he could make -the return journey in five days, or even four if he had plenty of -horses. In twelve days then, we may begin to look for relief. After all -twelve days is not so much. . . .” - -“But Gault will be counting those twelve days, too,” said Loseis in a -low tone. “He will not let them pass without acting.” - -Seeing how the Indian girl’s head was hanging down, and her face -twitching, Loseis said kindly: “Mary-Lou, why don’t you take a horse, -and ride to the Slavi village? You can stay with the other Marys. You -would be quite safe there. And you can’t do us any good by staying -here.” - -Mary-Lou, without looking up, slowly shook her head. “I not like live in -tepee,” she murmured. “Please, I want stay with you.” - -Loseis gave her a hug. “Surely!” she said. “But I hate to see you so -broken up.” - -“I all right,” said Mary-Lou in a strangled voice. She hastened into the -house. - -Conacher and Loseis came together. They walked in the grass with linked -arms. - -“Sweetheart,” murmured Conacher; “you hide it well, but you are -suffering too!” - -“You mustn’t feel sorry for me,” said Loseis, “or I’ll feel sorry for -myself then. . . . It’s only not knowing what to expect! When I see what -I have to do, I’ll be all right.” - -“If I could only get you away from it all!” - -“I have been through it alone,” said Loseis. “Now I have you!” - -Later in the afternoon Conacher was sitting by himself at the door, -still revolving their chances of receiving help from the outside, when -suddenly he perceived a bark canoe with two figures in it coming down -the river. - -“By God! here’s something to break the suspense!” he cried, leaping up. - -Loseis ran to the door. But when she saw the canoe her face showed no -relief nor gladness. She suspected who was in it. - -And when the canoe landed in the creek mouth, presently an -all-too-familiar little rotund figure rose over the top of the bank. - -“Tatateecha,” said Loseis in a listless voice. - -Conacher’s face fell like a child’s. He groaned aloud in his anger and -disappointment. “Oh, the miserable cur!” he cried. - -“What would you expect of a Slavi?” said Loseis, shrugging. - -They waited for him in a bitter silence. Tatateecha came plodding up the -grassy rise with the air of a guilty schoolboy. His companion remained -in the canoe. Reaching the top, Tatateecha, with an absurd pretense of -not seeing Conacher and Loseis, headed straight across towards the -store. Loseis summoned him peremptorily. He came like a dog to get his -whipping, twisting his body, and grinning in sickening fear. Still -trying to make out that nothing was the matter, he said something to -Loseis that caused her to laugh a single bitter note. - -“What is it?” demanded Conacher. - -“He is out of tobacco,” said Loseis. - -“Oh, my God!” cried Conacher. “Tobacco! When we were counting on him to -bring us help!” - -Loseis held up a restraining hand. “You will only frighten him stupid,” -she said. “Let me find out what happened.” - -The miserable Tatateecha told his story to Loseis, who translated it for -Conacher. “He says, early this morning when they were packing up for the -start, Gault, and his three big men suddenly rode into their camp, and -the Slavis jumped on horses and spread in every direction. Gault, when -he found you were gone, turned right back, but Tatateecha couldn’t round -up the Slavis by himself, he says. One by one they gained the trail and -galloped home; and there was nothing for it but for him to come home -too. . . . It may be true. It has the sound of truth.” - -“Leaving all the fur and the pack-horses where they were, I suppose,” -said Conacher. - -Loseis shrugged. “I expect that was bound to be lost,” she said. - -“And he calls himself their head man . . . !” - -Loseis concealed her bitter disappointment under a mask of indifference. -“He isn’t worth swearing at,” she said. “Give him a plug of tobacco, and -let him go.” - -Tatateecha began to argue for two plugs of tobacco; Conacher with a -threatening gesture, sent him flying down the hill. - -Supper time was approaching when all further uncertainty was put to an -end by the sound of many hoofs pounding down the trail above the Post. -Loseis and Conacher prudently retired within the house, and barring the -door, each took up a position at one of the little windows looking out -on the square. Mary-Lou declined to come to the window. Conacher was in -the kitchen; Loseis in her room, and the door open between. Conacher -opened his window. Between his feet rested the butt of his express -rifle; and he grasped the barrel in one hand. - -Presently a numerous cavalcade rode into the grassy square. It seemed to -the watchers as if they would never stop coming. Besides Gault and Moale -they counted sixteen well-mounted Indians; big, able-looking fellows; -mostly having a claim to a distant white ancestor in all probability. -There were also several laden horses, and a number of spare ones. - -“He’s brought his army against us!” said Conacher with scornful -laughter. - -“They don’t know what they’re going to be used for,” answered Loseis. - -“Might be a good thing for me to tell them,” suggested Conacher. - -“Useless,” said Loseis. “There’s never been any police stationed at Fort -Good Hope, and they can conceive of no authority higher than Gault’s.” - -Reining in, Gault pointed down to the river flat where the Slavi village -had lately stood. The Indians rode on down the grassy rise with their -pack-horses and spares; and began forthwith to make camp. Gault and -Moale were left sitting their horses side by side. Gault, well aware -that he was being watched, never looked towards the Women’s House. To -all appearances he was as ever, the elegant gentleman; perfectly turned -out; his face smooth and bland. He had allowed the rein to fall on his -horse’s neck. One hand rested on his hip; and with the other he -gesticulated gracefully towards the camp below, as he issued his -instructions to the deferential Moale. - -“Quite the beau ideal,” said Loseis dryly at her little window. - -“So that’s my would-be murderer!” said Conacher at his. “Gives you a -funny feeling to set eyes on him when you know.” - -Moale dismounted and went to the door of the Men’s House, where he -knocked. - -“Feeling his way,” said Conacher. - -“It will be amusing to hear what excuse he gives for coming back here,” -said Loseis. - -Conacher raised his gun. “Loseis,” he said soberly, “the quickest way to -end this matter would be for me to shoot him off his horse as he sits -there.” - -Loseis ran to his side. “No, Paul, no!” she cried agitatedly. - -“It would be the best way,” he insisted. “He means to kill us if he can. -Suppose he gets one of us and the other is left. I’m a pretty good shot. -I could get him easily now. It would end it. These other men have -nothing against us.” - -“No! No! No!” she cried. “Not until he attacks us! I couldn’t bear it!” - -Conacher allowed the butt of his gun to thump on the floor again. “Very -well,” he said a little sullenly. “Still, I think it would be the best -way.” - -Receiving no answer at the door of the men’s house, Moale faced about, -and came towards them. Conacher and Loseis watched him with heads close -together. Moale’s comely olive face was, as always, perfectly -expressionless. - -“What sort of man is this?” asked Conacher grimly. - -“Who can tell?” said Loseis. “He is neither white nor red.” - -They opened the door, and stood side by side within the frame to receive -him, Conacher with his gun across his arm. At sight of the gun Moale’s -eyes narrowed, but he made no reference to it in speech. Bowing to -Loseis, he said in his gentle voice: - -“Mr. Gault wishes to know if he may speak with you?” - -“But why not?” said Loseis coolly. “Speech is free.” - -“If he comes unarmed,” added Conacher grimly. - -Moale stabbed him with a lightning glance of his strange eyes, but did -not speak. Bowing to Loseis again, he turned and went back to Gault. - -Loseis and Conacher remained standing in the doorway. The girl said -earnestly: - -“Paul dear, when he comes, you must hold your anger in.” - -“I’m not going to truckle to him,” said Conacher, angry already. - -“Of course not! If we showed fear we would be lost. But if we become -angry they will use it as an excuse to attack us, and we will be lost, -too. We must show neither fear nor anger, but only coldness. My heart -tells me that.” - -“Oh, you’re right, of course,” groaned Conacher; “but you’re asking -almost too much of flesh and blood!” - -After a brief colloquy with Moale, Gault dismounted, and came striding -towards them with measured steps. He had retained the lordly air of the -old-time trader. His self-control was marvelous; he kept his head up, -and looked from Loseis to Conacher with brazen coolness. But there was a -sort of glassy guard over his eyes. You could not see into them. - -“He has his nerve with him,” grumbled Conacher in unwilling admiration. -“Marching up to the gun like this, with empty hands.” - -“He may have a pistol,” suggested Loseis. - -“He’d have to draw it,” said Conacher coolly. “And my gun is in my -hands.” - -As he drew close, Gault’s eyes flickered once. It must have been like a -knife in his breast to see Conacher and Loseis pressed together -companionably in the door of their house like a little family. But this -was the only sign of feeling he gave. - -“Good evening,” he said to Loseis. - -“Good evening,” returned Loseis. - -Gault went on: “I was somewhat surprised to learn from Moale, when he -returned to me to-day, that Conacher was with you.” - -“Were you?” said Loseis dryly. - -“You told me that he had gone with the fur.” - -This was too much for Conacher’s honest simplicity. “You know damned -well what brought me back!” he cried. - -Loseis laid a restraining hand on his arm. Gault continued to look at -Loseis as if Conacher had not spoken. There was a silence which seemed -to bristle with pointing knives. - -“Of course it was clear to me that the Slavis would never be able to -carry through alone,” Gault resumed. “And as I happened to meet the men -I had sent for from Fort Good Hope just then, I turned around and -brought them back with me, to offer them to you to take out your fur. -They are experienced and intelligent men, and can travel anywhere.” - -Loseis took thought before answering. Why does he trouble to give me all -this palaver when he knows he has only to go and get the fur? It -occurred to her that candor on her part would be the best means of -disconcerting him. She said coolly: - -“The Slavis have already returned. The fur has been abandoned at the -spot about thirty miles from here, where you saw it early this -morning. . . .” - -Gault changed color slightly. He could not guess how she had learned -this so soon. - -“Well, there it lies,” Loseis went on. “I do not mean to give you -permission to go and get it. On the other hand I cannot prevent you from -doing so.” - -Gault appeared to be debating the question with himself. He finally -said: “It is clearly my duty to save this valuable property. I shall -therefore send the Crees after it to-morrow.” - -“As you will,” said Loseis. - -Gault made to go; and then turned back as if struck by a new thought. “I -shall be returning to my own post,” he said. “My first thought was to -send Moale out with the fur; but your situation cannot be very -comfortable here. If you and Conacher would like to accompany the fur -train, Moale may remain here to guard your property until you return.” - -Loseis smiled coldly. So this was what he had been leading up to! - -Conacher’s blue eyes widened with indignation. “Well, I’ll be damned!” -he cried. “If this doesn’t. . . .” - -Loseis touched him warningly. “I thank you,” she said to Gault with hard -sweetness. “Mr. Conacher and I both thank you. We offer you all the -thanks that is due to your most generous offer. But _under the -circumstances_, we prefer to remain here.” - -Gault’s face was like a wall. He bowed to Loseis, and left them. - -“By God . . . !” began Conacher. - -“Hush!” said Loseis. “Anger just gives him an opening to get angry too. -But coldness mixes him all up.” - -“What a fool he must be to think . . .” - -“He is not a fool,” interrupted Loseis. “He knew exactly what he was -doing. You see he was not sure if we knew that he meant murder. His -object was to find that out. Well, he did find out.” - - - - - CHAPTER XX - BESIEGED - - -A little tent of pale green silk, trim and elegant, was pitched for -Gault in the meadow below, a short distance from the big fire built by -the Crees. After supper they could see Gault seated in the place of -honor beside the fire, surrounded by his men. Apparently all was peace -and good-fellowship in that camp. The attitudes of the men suggested -story-telling, and hearty laughter. - -“This is for our benefit,” said Loseis with a scornful smile. - -“I shall watch through the night,” said Conacher. - -“There will be no open attack.” - -“Just the same, I’ll stay up.” - -“I will take turns with you.” - -However, Gault presently crept under his little tent; and the Crees one -by one rolled up in their blankets, and lay completely covered up in the -redskin manner like a long row of corpses along the edge of the creek -bank. The sun went down, and the great silence crept like long fingers -out of the darkening sky. The brief hours of darkness passed, and there -was no suspicious move nor sound from below. The last of the sunset glow -stole around the northern horizon towards the east. In due course the -sun rose again, and the camp below lay exactly as before. - -Soon afterwards a great bustle began. They built up the fire, -breakfasted, caught their horses, and packed up. Moale and the main body -of the Crees crossed the creek, and galloped away over the trail to the -south. Gault and two men rode up the rise, crossed the little square -without a glance towards the Women’s House, and went on up the trail -behind the store. - -“There are four men unaccounted for,” said Loseis suddenly. “Only ten -went with Moale. I counted them.” - -“Let’s go out and take a look about,” said Conacher. “Whatever they are -plotting, it will take them a certain time to organize it. For a few -minutes anyhow, we will be safe.” - -They left Mary-Lou, gray with terror, alone in the house. Conacher took -his gun. After their night-long vigil it was a delight to get out into -the open. Running down the grassy rise together, they joked at danger. - -“Funny, here in my own place to be expecting to hear a bullet sing past -my ears,” said Loseis. - -“’S all right if it sings past,” said Conacher, grinning. - -As soon as Loseis looked over the creek bank she said: “There was a -damaged dug-out lying in the mud here. They have repaired it and gone in -it. They must have gone down river, close under the bank. We should have -seen them if they had gone up. I don’t know why they should go down -river.” - -“I think I can explain that,” said Conacher. “There are three possible -ways of escape from this place; south by the trail to the lake and -beyond; east by the trail to Fort Good Hope; and north down the river. -All three ways are now watched by our enemies.” - -“I never should have thought of going down river,” said Loseis. “There -is nothing there.” - -“I have thought of it,” said Conacher. “It would be many hundreds of -miles to a post, but it’s a possibility. But with the river watched it -would be the most dangerous way of all. All they’d have to do would be -to smash our boat, or set it adrift in the current. It would be all day -with us then.” - -“Just to keep us from escaping wouldn’t do Gault any good,” said Loseis. -“We have plenty of grub; and help is bound to arrive in the end. That -cannot be the whole of his plan.” - -“Oh, no; not the whole of it,” said Conacher grimly. “Time will tell.” - -Loseis shivered. “Let’s get back under cover,” she said. - -Before returning to the house they made sure that Conacher’s dug-out was -still safe where he had left it hidden in the willows with the paddle in -the bottom. - -“Who knows? It may come in handy,” he said. - -The hours of that day dragged by with leaden feet. Nothing happened, and -that was the hardest thing to bear. All needed sleep; and all were too -highly keyed up to obtain it. Clouds had come up with the sun, and by -breakfast time a soft persistent rain was falling, driven in sheets by a -cold wind from the northeast. Sharp squalls swept across the little -square at intervals, almost blotting out the buildings opposite. - -“Well, at any rate we’re better off than the other fellows,” said -Conacher with a grim chuckle. “We’ve got a roof over our heads.” - -After breakfast in spite of Loseis’ protests, he took up his position in -the open doorway, with his gun across his knees. His view out of the -window was too much narrowed by the thickness of the log walls, he -explained. - -“But you offer such a fair mark where you are!” complained Loseis. - -“Nobody could shoot me here except from behind the house opposite,” said -Conacher. “In order to do that he’s got to show himself; and my eyes are -as quick as the next man’s.” - -The house opposite bothered Conacher. “If they gained possession of it, -it would render our position untenable, as they say in the army -communiqués,” he said. - -It transpired that there were staples in the door, and a padlock lying -somewhere within to fasten it. Conacher announced his intention of going -across to bar the shutters and lock the door. - -And so it was done. Loseis stood at the door with her gun to cover his -passage to and fro across the little square. - -Loseis and Conacher, half exasperated, half affectionate, disputed -endlessly over who should bear the heavier part of the burden. - -“You _must_ sleep!” insisted Loseis. “It is to-night that the real -danger will come.” - -“You sleep first,” said Conacher, “and I’ll promise to match whatever -you do, later.” - -Towards the end of the afternoon the sky cleared, and the grass of the -little square steamed up in the warmth of the late sun. - -“I’d give something to be able to run down to the river and back to -stretch my legs,” said Conacher longingly. - -“Every foot of the flat is commanded from the bench to the north,” said -Loseis sharply. - -“Very little danger of getting hit if I zigzagged,” said Conacher, -partly to tease her. - -Loseis changed her tactics. “Very well, I’ll come too,” she said. - -“Not on your life!” said Conacher; and the subject was dropped. - -They ate their supper; the sun went down; and the great stillness -descended. Conacher closed and barred the door then; and went back to -the kitchen window. The window was open; and the slender black barrel of -his rifle stuck out across the thick log that formed its sill. -Accustomed as they were to the evening stillness, in this tense hour it -struck awe into their breasts as if it was the first time. They had an -indefinable feeling that whatever It was, It would come in this hushed -moment. Loseis was at her window; Mary-Lou was crouched on the floor at -the back of the room with her hands pressed to her mouth. - -Presently they heard that sound which is always associated with the -sunset stillness of the Northwest; the long-drawn, intolerably mournful -howl of a coyote; a sound calculated to shake stretched nerves. It rose -startlingly close; in fact from the ravine through which the creek -flowed behind the men’s house opposite. - -“That is no coyote,” said Loseis sharply. “They never come so close to -the Post.” - -Mary-Lou moaned. - -The cry was repeated; and was answered from down the river. - -“That coyote is afloat in a canoe,” said Conacher with a grim chuckle. -“The men who went down the river to-day have been instructed to come -back at evening to watch us.” - -Another heartrending howl was raised from the hill back of the store. - -“The outposts are establishing communications,” said Conacher, carrying -it off lightly in order to hearten the girls. “Well, it’s a relief to -know what and where they are. At this God-awful moment of the day you -could imagine anything!” - -For awhile the quavering cries went back and forth; then silence. -Darkness drew slowly in. At first the sky across the river was like a -sea of amber with one or two scraps of cloud floating in it like golden -ships. As the warmth gradually faded out it took on the hue of blued -steel. The moon was rising later now; to-night there would be an hour or -so of darkness before her coming. Conacher had to strain his eyes to -make out the details of the house across the way. - -The slow minutes passed. In the big chimney the night-breeze kept up a -gentle, uneven murmuring that was like somebody speaking to somebody -else a little way off. Occasionally the man and the girl whispered from -room to room in the dark just to reassure themselves of the other’s warm -and breathing presence. - -“Paul?” - -“Yes, pardner?” - -“There’s no need for both of us to be watching.” - -“Well, you take a sleep, old girl.” - -“Sleep!” - -“My sentiments exactly!” - -And later: - -“Paul, do not remain at the window. Even though they cannot see you, -they will guess that you are there. It is like a bull’s eye in the side -of the house!” - -“But I must be looking out!” - -“Do as I do. Scrape away the clay, and use a chink between the logs for -a peep-hole.” - -After that Paul lay full length on the floor of the kitchen, with his -rifle barrel poked out through the chink. - -Suddenly his gun roared outside, blowing the night to pieces as it -seemed. A dreadful, low cry escaped from Mary-Lou. - -“What was it?” whispered Loseis sharply. - -“Man crawling towards the door of the men’s house.” - -“Did you get him?” - -“No,” said Conacher ruefully. “He streaked back around the corner. It -was the merest shadow. I shot too soon.” - -There was another long wait, much harder to bear for nerves that still -recollected the explosion of that shot. Then they became aware by a -gentle grayness pervading the scene outside, that the moon had risen. -The orb itself was hidden by the buildings opposite. - -“He’s gone into the little warehouse beyond the store,” said Conacher -suddenly. “The door has been opened. . . . Damn it! I should have locked -that door.” - -“You couldn’t have locked it,” said Loseis. “They broke the staples.” - -“I’ve a good mind to go over there and get him,” muttered Conacher. - -“Right across the open, I suppose,” said Loseis bitterly. - -“I might steal around behind the buildings.” - -“There are probably others there.” - -“If I sent a shot through the open door it would give him a good scare.” - -“Nothing to be gained by scaring him.” - -The edge of the moon peeped over the ridge of the men’s house. A few -minutes later she was shining directly into their faces. This had them -at a cruel disadvantage, for the other side of the square where one or -more of their enemies were lurking, was hidden in the deepest shadow. -Conacher swore helplessly under his breath. - -By and by a cloud crept across the moon dimming her silvery glare. - -“He’s come out of the warehouse,” said Conacher in surprise. “The door -is closed now. . . . I don’t understand that. Why should he come out -unless he had found a better place? What other place is there where he -could sit in hiding and watch us?” - -There was no answer forthcoming. The moon came out again, bathing the -little square within the crouching buildings in her misty radiance. As -she rose higher their vision was the less obscured. Nothing stirred -outside. The earth was so still, one fancied one could feel its great -swing to the east. Time passed, and that fear against which the bravest -hearts are not proof, lay upon them heavier and heavier; the fear of the -unknown. - -Conacher at his loophole muttered and swore under his breath. “When I -knew where he was it was all right. . . . This is hellish . . . !” - -Finally, when the eastern sky was beginning to get ready for dawn, he -jumped up. “I can’t stand this,” he cried. “I’ve got to find out where -they are, and what they’re up to!” - -Loseis found him in the dark. “Oh, hush!” she whispered. “Maybe there’s -an ear pressed against the back wall! . . . What are you going to do?” - -Conacher put his lips to her ear. “Make a dummy, and show it at the -door,” he said. Even at that moment a chuckle sounded in his voice. - -They closed the shutters, stuffed up their peep-holes and lighted a -lamp. Conacher tied a broom to the back of a chair with the brush -uppermost. He then tied a piece of firewood athwart the broom handle -just under the brush. This was for shoulders. They dared not use hammer -and nails. Upon this frame he hung one of Mary-Lou’s dresses, and -completed the figure by forcing a small cooking pot over the brush of -the broom, with a piece of white cloth hanging down in front to -represent a face. In the moonlight at a hundred paces distance they -judged that it would serve. Conacher blew out the light again. - -“I’ll manipulate the chair,” he said to Loseis. “You go back to your -peep-hole. You must be watching for the flash in case he shoots. -Mary-Lou, you must open the door. There’s no danger if you keep behind -it.” - -Conacher waited until Loseis was at her place. “All clear outside?” he -asked. - -“I can see nothing,” she whispered. - -“All right then, Mary.” - -They could hear her gasping softly for breath, as she drew the door -slowly open. The night stole into the room. All three hearts were -beating furiously. Conacher, lying on the floor, grasped the legs of the -chair, and thrust it forward a little. At first he tipped it to -represent a face peeping around the doorframe, and quickly withdrew it. -After repeating this once or twice, he allowed the whole figure to show -in the doorway, swaying a little like a living body. - -“Any movement across the way?” he whispered to Loseis. - -“Nothing!” - -Finally he allowed the figure to tip forward as if to peer outside the -door. From across the square two shots crashed out almost -simultaneously. One bullet shattered the chair back; the other buried -itself deep in the log wall across the kitchen. It was a relief to hear -those shots, waiting for them was so dreadful. Conacher jerked the -remains of the chair out of sight, and Mary-Lou slammed the door. All -three of them were panting for breath. - -“Well?” demanded Conacher excitedly. - -“They are inside my father’s house,” said Loseis desperately. - -“Impossible!” he cried in dismay. - -“Yes! They are doing the same as us. Shooting through chinks between the -logs.” - -“How could they have got in? There are no windows in the back.” - -“Who knows? Dug underneath the wall, maybe.” - -For the first time Conacher showed discouragement. “Oh, God!” he -groaned. “By night or day they’ve got us covered!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - A LEAP FOR FREEDOM - - -On the third morning following, Loseis and Conacher were seated at a -little table in the kitchen of the Women’s House, with a scarcely -touched meal between them. In the inner room Mary-Lou was lying on a -mattress with her face turned towards the wall, asleep—or despairing. -In the kitchen all was in apple pie order; a fire burning on the -well-swept hearth with a small pot of water bubbling upon it; the -shutter of the little window flung back, and the sunshine streaming in; -outside all green and peaceful to the eye. There was nothing to indicate -the horror of the situation but the faces of the two at the table. Those -gaunt and gray young faces, deeply seamed and sunken eyed, told a tale -of seventy-two hours’ horror. Neither had had more than a snatch or two -of broken sleep. Three endless nights and days and no hope of relief. It -was the absence of hope which had aged them. - -Conacher rested his cheek in his palm, and gloomily traced imaginary -lines on the oilcloth cover with his fork. Loseis’ eyes, which looked -truly enormous now, were fixed on the young man’s face, all tenderness. - -“You have brought all this on your head through mixing in my miserable -affairs,” she murmured. - -He looked up quickly. “Oh, don’t say a thing like that!” he protested, -hurt to the quick. “It seems to divide us. How can we be divided now? -Your fate is my fate and mine yours!” - -Loseis looked down, somewhat comforted. But she yearned for more -explicit comfort still. “I wonder you do not hate me,” she whispered. - -“Loseis!” he said sharply, “if you say such things to me, you will have -me blubbering like Mary-Lou. That would be a nice thing!” And the tears -actually stood in his eyes. - -The sight of those tears was sweet to Loseis; but she went on -perversely: “Sometimes I think you do hate me. You do not like to look -at me any more. Always you turn your eyes away.” - -Conacher turned his eyes away then. “The truth is, I can’t bear to look -at you,” he murmured. “Such a child as you are, and so plucky and proud; -never a word of complaint out of you. It drives me wild to think I can’t -save you from this!” - -Loseis glided swiftly around the table, and caught his head against her -breast. “Ah, you blessed Paul!” she crooned, brooding over him. “I was -just trying to make you say again that you loved me. You mustn’t grieve -so over me. Think what it would be for me if you weren’t here!” - -She dropped to her knees beside his chair. Speech would no longer serve -to convey their feelings. They snatched a moment of poignant happiness -out of the surrounding horror. - -Finally Conacher, partly withdrawing himself from her arms, sat up -straight. “This can’t go on!” he said, striking the table. - -“What is in your mind?” she asked anxiously. - -“We have plenty of food,” he said, “and the water is still holding out; -but what is the use of it all? To be trapped like this would break -anybody’s nerve; knowing night and day that the guns were covering you. -If we stay here they’re certain to get us in the end. Time is passing. -If we give them no opportunity to pick us off, they’ll drive us out of -our shelter. They have only to build a fire against the back wall of -this house . . .” - -“Oh, Heaven!” murmured Loseis. - -“I don’t want to frighten you unnecessarily,” he said, stroking back her -hair; “but we’ve got to face the worst. I’ve been looking for it to -happen every night. That’s why I couldn’t sleep. How simple for Gault to -shoot us down as we ran out, and throw our bodies back on the fire . . . -I say we must make a break for it, while we are able to choose our own -time.” - -“But where could we go?” faltered Loseis. - -“I’ve been thinking about that. God knows, I have had plenty of time! -The three obvious ways out are closed to us, but there is a fourth way -. . .” - -“Where?” - -“Across the river and over the prairie to the north or northwest.” - -“But that is the unknown country!” said Loseis with widening eyes. “No -white man has ever been across there!” - -“True,” said Conacher; “but after all it’s just a country like any -other. And I’m accustomed to making my own way.” - -“Nobody knows what is on the other side!” - -“I know,” said Conacher. “It’s part of my job to map this country; and I -carry the existing map in my mind. Two or three hundred miles away—I -can only make a rough guess as to the distance; there is an important -river called the Mud River. We only have reports of it from the Indians. -But the name tells you what kind of a river it is. It must be a prairie -river like this one; fairly deep and moderately swift. If there are -cottonwood trees I could make a rough dug-out; or I could always make -rafts. The Mud River eventually falls into the Sinclair. It is up the -Sinclair River that my outfit is making its way at present. According to -their schedule they will make the mouth of the Mud River on July -fifteenth. That gives us a month. If we are too late we could follow -them up the Sinclair. They travel slow on account of the work they have -to do. It is the best chance I see. No woman has ever made such a -journey, but men have; and you are as plucky and strong as a boy.” - -“I can do it if you can,” said Loseis quickly. “But how could we escape -from here with an outfit; grub, blankets, ax, gun, ammunition?” - -“It would have to be a mighty slim outfit,” said Conacher. “I could feed -you with my gun if I had to.” - -“Across the river there are only a few broken horses,” said Loseis. “We -could not be sure of finding them at the moment we needed them.” - -“We may have to walk,” said Conacher. - -“But when Gault missed us, he could swim his horses over. What chance -would we have then?” - -“Not much of a one. . . . But a crazy idea has been coming back to me -again and again. Maybe the very craziness of it is in its favor. . . .” - -“What is it?” - -“If we could persuade Gault that we had committed suicide in our -desperation . . . . ?” - -Loseis’ eyes widened like a child’s. - -“Can you swim?” asked Conacher. - -She sadly shook her head. - -“Hm! that’s awkward. . . . But maybe I could manage. . . . There is that -little air pillow in my outfit. . . .” - -They heard Mary-Lou approaching out of the next room, and drew apart. - -“What on earth will we do with her?” whispered Loseis. - -Conacher shook his head in complete perplexity. “We’ll talk it over -later,” he whispered. - -Mary-Lou had come to clean up the breakfast dishes. The past four days -had made a shocking change in the appearance of the comely Indian girl. -She was too apathetic to resent being excluded from their counsels; and -Conacher and Loseis went on with their whispering. - -All day they alternately whispered together, and parted from each other -to think over the matter afresh. To have this absorbing matter to talk -over relieved the tension; the hours passed more quickly. They surveyed -their plan from every angle, continually rejecting this expedient, and -accepting that. Little by little they built up a reasonable-seeming -structure. Of course the best plan they could make depended upon so many -chances for its success, that there were many moments when they -despaired. But at such moments Conacher would always say: “Still, -anything would be better than this!” Whereupon they would set their wits -to work afresh. - -Some hours later Conacher said: “One thing is certain. It would have -twice as good a chance of success if we could prepare Gault’s mind -beforehand for such a thing to happen. We ought to send him a letter.” - -“How could we send him a letter?” asked Loseis. - -Recollecting the Indian trophies that hung on the walls of Loseis’ room, -Conacher went in there. Loseis, following, saw him take down a bow, and -test the string. - -“It has hardened some,” he said: “But it will do.” - -Loseis, getting the idea, smiled. “But would they dare to come out and -get it?” she asked. - -“Oh, curiosity is a strong motive,” said Conacher. “And anyway, I have -suspected every night that they came part way across the square at the -darkest time before the moon comes up, to make sure that we didn’t slip -out.” - -They sat down to concoct the letter. “You must write it,” said Conacher. -“It would be more effective.” - -After a couple of hours’ work and many drafts, they produced the -following: - - “TO GAULT: - - “Why do you torture me so? I have never harmed you. Mary-Lou - died the first night, and we buried her under the floor. Our - water is gone. Conacher is acting so strangely I am afraid of - what he may do. He doesn’t know I am writing this. I will shoot - it over to you while he sleeps. If there is any decency or mercy - in your heart let me see you ride away from this place - to-morrow. I cannot stand this any longer. - - “LAURENTIA BLACKBURN.” - -Conacher and Loseis smiled grimly over this effusion. But Loseis quickly -frowned. - -“I cannot bear to have him think I would whine for mercy like that,” she -murmured. - -“Yes, but think of the pleasure of fooling him later,” Conacher pointed -out. - -To send their letter they chose a moment after sunset, while there was -still light enough to aim it. Throwing open the door, they all stood -back on the chance of receiving a bullet from across the way: but their -enemies gave no sign. It fell to Loseis’ part to dispatch the letter, -since she was accustomed to handling the bow and arrow. The letter had -been fastened around the shaft with a thread. After waiting a moment or -two, Loseis took up her stand far enough back from the door so that she -could not possibly be seen. Drawing the bow-string to her ear, she let -it twang. The arrow sped across the open space, and stuck fast in the -wall of the men’s house, a few inches from the door. Conacher slammed -their door shut. - -Next morning as soon as it became light, they perceived that the arrow -still remained fixed in the wall. Their hearts sunk, thinking that their -ruse had failed. But as the light strengthened Loseis’ sharp eyes -discovered that the white band around the shaft was gone. - -“They have it!” she cried. - -All day long they anxiously watched for any sign of activity on the part -of their enemies. If any reply had been made to their letter it might -have seriously embarrassed them, but none was made. As the endless, -endless day finally rounded towards its close, Conacher said grimly: - -“It must be to-night.” - -Loseis nodded. - -They did not take Mary-Lou into their confidence until the latest -possible moment. They supped; and the dishes were washed. Finally when -Conacher began to lay out the bundles they were to carry, she had to be -told. The mind of the overwrought girl was distracted by the thought of -more danger. - -“Let me stay here,” she moaned. “Let me stay here and die!” - -“Why die?” said Conacher patiently. “We’re offering you a chance to -live!” - -“I cannot do it!” - -“You have the easiest part of all,” Loseis pointed out. - -“We have told them that you are dead and buried,” said Conacher -laughing. “Whether they believe it or not, they’re not going to bother -about you until they catch Loseis and me. We have only got to run from -the door to the corner of the house. There’s not one chance in a hundred -they can get us in that space if we run abreast. Once around the corner -we are out of range until they can get out of the house.” - -After long persuasion, Mary-Lou agreed to try it. - -“Now listen,” said Conacher, with an appearance of great cheerfulness; -“here’s the plan. At the corner of the house we divide. Loseis and I run -down to the flat, and strike for my dug-out, while you hit directly into -the woods behind this house. You are to make your way entirely around -the Post by the side hill, and cross the creek, and make your way as -best you can to the Slavi village. Take your time to it. If you get -there by to-morrow night it will do. When it is dark to-morrow night -take three horses . . .” - -“But not my horse,” put in Loseis. “She is too well known.” - -“Three horses,” resumed Conacher; “and as much grub as Tatateecha will -let you have. . . .” - -“They have plenty of smoked meat and smoked fish,” said Loseis. - -“What place can I appoint for a meeting?” asked Conacher of Loseis. - -“The Old Wives’ Slough. It is the furthest point that I have been with -my father. About ten miles west of here, and the same distance north of -the Slavi village.” - -“Have you been there?” Conacher asked Mary-Lou. - -She shook her head. - -“Do you know the North Star?” - -She nodded. - -“Good! Then take the horses and the grub when it becomes dark to-morrow -night, and ride ten miles in the direction of the North Star to that -slough in the prairie.” - -“There is a trail from the Slavi village,” put in Loseis. - -“Loseis and I will be waiting for you there,” said Conacher. - -“In the poplar bluff on the south side of the slough,” added Loseis. - -“If we are not there,” added Conacher with a smile for Loseis’ benefit, -“why, turn around and ride back to the Slavi village.” - -Conacher repeated these instructions over again, and made Mary-Lou say -it all after him. Both he and Loseis feared that in the unnerved red -girl they had but a broken reed to lean upon. However they had no other. -Once clear of that den of horror they hoped that she might recover -herself somewhat. - -Then the packs were made. Each was to take a blanket with a small -package of food rolled up inside it. In addition Conacher had his gun -and an ammunition belt containing a hundred shells, and a small -cooking-pot packed with matches, tea and tobacco. Loseis was to take a -smaller belt of shells and a small ax. Mary-Lou was given Conacher’s -smaller gun and ammunition for it. Everything was to be strapped on -their backs, in order to leave both arms free. - -“How shall we know the proper moment to start out?” asked Loseis. - -“The moon does not rise to-night until after midnight,” said Conacher. -“The darkest time will be about two hours after sundown. I will mark a -candle and light it when the sun goes down. When it has burned two -inches we will make a break.” - -“That will only give us an hour or so before the moon comes up.” - -“The first few minutes will decide everything,” he said, smiling at her. - -They were ready, of course, long before it was time to set out. Conacher -made it his job to keep up the spirits of his little party. He suggested -having another meal, but no one ate but himself. After that there was -nothing to do but sit down and look at the candle. Very hard on the -nerves. A half a dozen times Loseis sprang up like a haggard little -panther, crying: - -“It’s perfectly dark. Let’s start.” - -To which Conacher would always reply in his calm and cheerful style: -“No! When you settle on a thing, you must stick to it.” - -As the candle burned down towards the fateful mark, the three pairs of -eyes were fixed on it in painful intensity, and three hearts rose slowly -into three throats. The last ten minutes were the hardest. - -“Now!” said Conacher briskly, at last. - -They adjusted their packs. Under her pack Loseis wore the deflated air -pillow fastened between her shoulders by a harness of twine contrived by -Conacher. Both Loseis and Conacher felt that this might well be the -moment of farewell, but neither spoke of it. It was all expressed in an -exchange of looks. Mary-Lou was piteously striving to get her breath. -Conacher’s last act before leaving was to throw a pailful of the -precious water on the fire, that no reflection of the glow might betray -them when the door was opened. The room was filled with hissing steam. - -“Wait a moment,” whispered Conacher in the darkness. “They might -possibly have heard that sound. Give them time to forget it. . . . Me -first, then Loseis, then Mary-Lou. Take hands. Run like hell around the -corner of the house. . . . I am opening the door now. . . .” - -They ran out and turned, putting every nerve into it. Instantly, the -guns across the grass roared out. They heard the twin bullets plug deep -into the logs behind them. The guns crashed again. They gained the -corner of the house unhurt. Immediately the cry of the coyote was raised -not a hundred yards away; almost in their ears it seemed. It was more -human than coyote. Their enemies were outside the house. Already they -could hear the sound of running feet. Other cries answered the first -one: from the hill behind; from the ravine; from the river. - -Loseis gave Mary-Lou a gentle push; and the Indian girl disappeared -noiselessly into the bush back of the house. Conacher and Loseis took -hands and raced down the grassy rise. A voice behind them shouted in -English: - -“There they go!” - -Conacher whispered: “Make first for the creek; then double back towards -the willows!” - -The surface of the natural meadow was rough, and Conacher went down -twice, but was up again like the recoil of a spring. Loseis had the -mysterious sure-footedness of an Indian. Behind them they heard their -pursuers falling and cursing. Gault’s voice shouted a command in Cree. - -“He is telling them to make for the creek,” whispered Loseis. - -When they had almost reached the edge of the creek bank, they turned -sharply to the right, and headed back obliquely across the flat towards -the point where the dug-out was hidden. They slackened their pace that -they might not betray their whereabouts by further falls. This maneuver -was successful for the moment. They heard their pursuers halt at the -creek bank. Gault called to men who were evidently approaching down the -bed of the creek. - -The fugitives gained the river bank, and crawling under the thick -willows, presently stumbled on the dug-out lying in a fissure in the -earthen bank. So far so good. However, they were not unmindful of the -dug-out manned by four Crees somewhere out on the river; and they waited -awhile listening. - -They heard them coming up-stream, paddling at a furious rate. They -passed close to the bank, not half a dozen yards from where Loseis and -Conacher were crouching. Conacher gave them a minute, then started to -slide the dug-out off the mud. - -“They’ll see us!” whispered Loseis in alarm. - -“Somebody must see us, or we can’t pull off the double suicide,” said -Conacher grimly. - -They launched the dug-out and climbed in. Since the paddlers in the -other dug-out had their backs turned to them, they could have gained the -other shore unseen; but Conacher headed diagonally up-stream, laying -such a course that they must be at least heard by those gathered around -the mouth of the creek. And they were heard. A chorus of cries was -raised. Conacher then steered straight for the opposite shore. In a -moment they heard the other dug-out splashing after them. - -Immediately to the north of the high-cut bank, there was a smallish flat -covered with grass, through the center of which a tiny stream wound its -way to the river. It was the usual willow-bordered rivulet flowing quite -deep between overhanging banks, which were held from caving in by the -roots of the thickly springing willows. The branches of the willows -interlaced overhead. This muskrat-haunted stream was an important factor -in the plans of the fugitives; but they were not ready to use it yet. - -Conacher landed alongside its mouth. The instant the nose of the dug-out -touched, they were out. The other dug-out was already half way across -the river. They raced through the grass alongside the willow-bordered -stream, slipping out of their packs as they ran. A hundred yards or so -from the river, Conacher took both packs and boring through the outer -willows, tied the packs to branches overhanging the little stream. - -Returning to Loseis, they doubled on their tracks, and ran for the steep -grassy rise which culminated in the bold knoll where the two graves -were. The Crees, having just landed, were stumbling through the grass at -a loss. Presently the fugitives were seen, as they wished to be. With -renewed cries to their friends across the river, the Crees set after -them. Gault’s roaring voice was heard from the river. - -“They told him that we were running up the hill,” whispered Loseis; “and -he’s telling them to work around back, and head us off on top.” - -“We may take our time then,” said Conacher, falling to a walk. - -On top of the knoll they came to a stand. The little enclosure -containing the two graves was behind them; and behind that again, the -grove of pines. On either side the ground sloped steeply down, and in -front it broke off into nothingness. - -“Well, here we are,” said Conacher lightly; “that was easy!” - -“The hardest is before us,” murmured Loseis. - -Stepping to the edge of the cut-bank, they looked over. The precipitous -slide of earth, almost as pale as snow at their feet, was gradually -swallowed in the murk. The fact that they could not see the bottom of -it, made the leap appear doubly terrible. - -“Does your heart fail you, dear?” murmured Conacher. - -“Not as long as you are beside me,” she whispered. - -“Remember to let yourself go limp when you hit the dirt,” he said. -“Gravity will do the rest. I’ll be there before you, because I’m -heavier.” - -He blew up the little air cushion that was strapped to her back. - -They could hear the Crees working around the north side of the hill. It -was evidently expected that the fugitives meant to run back along the -top of the ridge. Below them the river revealed itself merely as a -grayish band, a shade or two lighter than its shores. They could just -make out the disturbance created by two furiously driven bark canoes -about to land below. These had headed for the south side of the hill. -There was some underbrush on that side; and when the occupants landed -they could be heard smashing through it. They were evidently working up -that side with the object of coming in touch with the other party. - -“This is better than I could have hoped for,” said Conacher cheerfully. -“We have got them all on the hill.” - -“Is it time to go now?” asked Loseis nervously. - -“No! No! Wait until they are right on top of us.” - -Somewhere back of them the two parties met on top of the ridge. There -was a whispered consultation, then a silence, very hard for the -listeners to bear. Conacher held Loseis’ hand tightly squeezed within -his own. Up there under the wide spreading night sky they became queerly -aware of their insignificance. A long silence; then from half a dozen -sounds their sharpened senses informed them that their enemies were -creeping towards them through the pines. - -Loseis caught her breath sharply, and moved towards the edge. - -“Steady, sweetheart,” whispered Conacher. - -Suddenly there was an astonished cry of: “There!” and a rush of feet. - -Loseis and Conacher cried out wildly, as they had rehearsed together: -“Good-by! . . . Good-by, all!” And leaped. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - THE SEARCH - - -Loseis could never have described the sensations of that mad roll down -the cut-bank. As a matter of fact all sensation was whirled clean out of -her; and the first thing she knew was the mighty smack with which her -body hit the water. Water it seemed could be almost as hard as wood. She -went under. - -As she rose again, gasping and wildly reaching, her fingers came in -contact with Conacher’s coat. In the first second she clutched him in a -deathlike grip; in the second she remembered he had told her they would -both drown, if she did so; and she released him. She discovered that the -air cushion was sufficient to hold her up. - -Conacher whispered in her ear: “You are all right?” - -“I . . . I think so,” she stuttered. - -“Put your two hands lightly on my shoulders and I’ll tow you. Do not -splash.” - -He swam softly down with the current. - -In the first moment there was only silence from above. Then they heard -Gault’s excited voice: - -“Quick! the canoes! Search for them in the river!” - -The men came tearing pell-mell down the hill, and Conacher swam with all -his strength for the mouth of the little stream. - -They gained it none too soon. Finding firm ground underfoot they waded -up-stream under the arching willows. The water was up to their waists. -They had to move at a snail’s pace to avoid splashing. As soon as the -upper part of their bodies was exposed to the air, they realized the -numbing cold of the water. Loseis clenched her teeth to keep them from -chattering. - -Meanwhile the two dug-outs had been launched. The men shouted confusedly -at each other. Such a search was hopeless in the dark. They could hear -Gault savagely cursing his men. It was quite clear that he was not bent -upon rescuing the two, but upon making sure that they did not escape. -The voices softened in the distance, as the current carried the dug-outs -down. Conacher and Loseis could now permit themselves to move faster -through the water. - -Conacher drew Loseis along with one hand, and held the other straight -over his head as they proceeded through the dark tunnel. An exclamation -of satisfaction escaped him as his hand came in contact with the hanging -packs. He took them down. A short distance further along there was a -break in the willows on the right-hand side, and a back-water whence -they climbed out in the grass. Streaming with water, they set off at a -jog trot to warm up. - -The voices of Gault and the Crees were still receding. Simultaneously it -occurred to Conacher and Loseis that they could now permit themselves to -hope. Stopping, they flew into each other’s arms. It was a moist -embrace, but none the less rapturous. After the frightful strain of the -past days, the reaction was unnerving. In their joy and relief, they -both partly broke down; but neither was ashamed of showing emotion. - -“Oh, my Paul!” murmured Loseis. “Perhaps we are going to be happy after -all!” - -“Perhaps?” cried Conacher. “I should like to see anybody stop us now?” - -He was not, however, quite so sure as all that. - -The river flat gradually narrowed down to the typical coulee of the -prairies, with the little stream running in the bottom. As the ground -began to rise, the willows ceased, and the way became rough and stony. -Conacher struck obliquely up the steep side of the coulee to find better -going over the prairie. The moon rose as they gained the upper level, -throwing a strange misty glamour over that vast, fixed, rolling sea. -They pressed briskly ahead through the short buffalo grass which did not -impede the feet, keeping the North Star over their right shoulders. -Their clothes dried slowly; but the exercise of walking kept them warm. - -Their hearts were light. The awful bare solitudes, rise behind rise in -endless succession, and the deathlike silence had no power to oppress -them now. How could they feel lonely walking hand in hand free under the -sky? Day stole upon them with enchanting beauty. The prairie was -sprinkled with wild roses and the rose madder flower that is called -painter’s brush. Prairie chickens fluttered from bush to bush -companionably; and little furry four-footed creatures scurried for the -shelter of their holes. Loseis sang as she walked; and Conacher cracked -his jokes. - -The sun was rising behind them as they came to the edge of a wide, -saucer-like depression in the prairie, holding in the bottom an oval -pond of an astonishing blueness. It was dotted with snowy water fowl. -All the surrounding country dimpled like a vast cheek in smooth rounds -and hollows, was mantled with a tender green, grayish in the shadows. At -the left hand side of the lake grew a wide patch of poplar scrub; that -is to say, thousands of little saplings growing as thick as hair, and -putting forth leaves of so intense a green it was like a shout in the -morning. The whole picture was washed with rose color in the horizontal -rays of the rising sun. - -Loseis drew a long breath. “I never realized how beautiful the prairie -was!” she murmured. “It never was so beautiful,” she amended, putting -her hand on Conacher’s arm. “How marvelous to one who has been a -prisoner! Even if they should catch us we shall have had this!” - -“They’re not going to catch us,” said Conacher. “Not while I have a -hundred shells in my belt.” - -Loseis pointed to the poplar scrub. “That’s the meeting place with -Mary-Lou to-night.” - -“Too bad we have to waste the day waiting for her,” said Conacher. “We -won’t hang about there, it’s too obvious a hiding-place. The high ground -on the other side would be a good observation post. Tired?” - -“Tired!” sang Loseis. “I am just beginning to feel that I have legs -again!” - -They headed obliquely across the depression towards a swell of land to -the south that enjoyed a slight prominence in the gently rolling sea of -grass. The flat appearance of the prairie was deceptive. Some of these -insignificant bumps commanded a view for many miles. - -Tucked down behind the rise they found a cozy hollow with another patch -of the vivid poplar scrub. They sat down at the edge of it to eat part -of the food they had brought. - -While they were thus engaged, silently and with excellent appetite, a -brown bear came ambling placidly out from among the saplings. He looked -at them with a start of astonishment so comic that Loseis burst out -laughing; then with a great “Woof!” of indignation galloped away up the -rise. - -Conacher had snatched up his gun. “Fresh meat!” he cried. But with a -reluctant shake of his head, he dropped it again. - -“Why not?” asked Loseis. - -“If we are searched for, the carcass would be found.” - -When they had finished eating, Conacher said: “I’m sorry I cannot let -you have a fire; but the smoke would betray us for many miles around. -Creep in among the trees; take off your damp clothes; wrap up in your -blanket and sleep until I call you.” - -“What are you going to do?” demanded Loseis, ready to quarrel with him -as usual over who should bear the brunt of the hardship. - -“I’m going to roll up and sleep at the top of the rise behind a rose -bush,” said Conacher grinning. “If they send out a search party they may -be expected to appear in about two hours.” - -“You are always talking about their searching for us,” said Loseis. “If -Gault thinks we are dead he will not look for us. If he thinks we are -not dead, we are certain to be caught in these empty spaces. Why worry?” - -“There is a third alternative,” said Conacher. “Gault thinks we are -dead, but he cannot afford to take any chances. It seems to me he will -send out a party to scour the prairie just as a precaution. It is up to -us to keep out of their way until they are satisfied. It won’t be as bad -as if they _knew_ we were here.” - -Loseis wished to be allowed to watch from the top of the rise, but -Conacher carried his point. - -From behind the clump of roses that he had marked on the way over, -Conacher was able to survey an expanse of country that faded into gray -mist on the horizon. He slept for awhile as he had promised. It was -about nine o’clock by the sun, when he perceived the first horseman, no -more than a black dot far to the eastward; but a significantly shaped -dot. Presently he made out another, and another at wide intervals. The -nearest was about four miles distant. - -Racing back down the rise, he called to Loseis. When she answered, he -said: “Dress as quickly as possible. We must move on.” - -When she appeared from among the trees, he explained what he had seen. -“Unless I miss my guess,” he said, “they will divide and ride around the -high ground surrounding the slough until they meet again. That would -bring us right in their line of march. We must get over another rise. -You can see that they are combing the country as they come. What we -ought to do is to work around behind them.” - -Hand in hand like a pair of children they headed south, bent almost -double as they climbed the rises, and racing free down the other side. -When they had put a couple of heights between them and the slough, they -began to work around towards the east. The prairie is not such a -desperate place for fugitives as it might seem. It is true that from the -high places you can see for many miles around: but there are always -hollows into which you cannot see until you are upon them. At a glance -it seems as if the bubbles of earth had been pushed up in meaningless -disorder; but such is not the case. Nature sees to it that the country -is drained. Every hollow opens into another. Conacher had the mapmaker’s -instinct for the contour of land, and he was never in doubt as to their -proper course. At the same time while they were hidden from their -enemies their enemies were hidden from them. It caused the heart to rise -in the throat to imagine a horseman suddenly appearing over the grass -close by. - -After an hour’s walking and running, they came upon a good-sized patch -of rose scrub folded into the side of a rise. Conacher stopped to survey -it. - -“A perfect hiding-place if you lay flat on the ground,” he said; “yet no -one would suppose it. Come on, let’s tackle the thorns.” - -Inch by inch they threaded their painful way along the ground; careful -to rearrange the branches they had disturbed upon entering; and cutting -with their knives a little tunnel ahead. Finally in the thickest of the -patch they lay companionably on the warm, dry ground within whispering -distance of each other, and lapped in delicious fragrance. Themselves -concealed, they could see out more or less through interstices between -the leaves. - -“One could fall asleep here, and dream of being in Paradise,” said -Loseis, sniffing. - -“Yes,” said Conacher, disengaging a thorn; “and roll over and find one’s -self in the other place!” - -They both dozed, and were awakened simultaneously by the sound of -thudding hoofs. They waited with fast-beating hearts. A dark-skinned -horseman rode into view along the top of the very rise against whose -side they lay. He was less than a hundred yards away; they could -distinguish every detail of his somewhat dandified dress. - -“Watusk,” whispered Loseis. - -At sight of the patch of scrub, the Cree reined up his horse, and sat -staring directly at them. It caused the goose-flesh to rise upon their -bodies; their hearts seemed to stop beating. With infinite caution -Conacher drew his gun into position. - -“The horse first; then his rider,” he whispered. - -But after debating a moment, the Cree clapped heels to his horse, and -rode on. Presently he disappeared. A long breath of thankfulness escaped -from the two hidden ones. - -“He will never know how nearly his wife became a widow,” said Conacher. - -“Well, they’ve checked this place off,” said Loseis. “Shall we stay -here?” - -Conacher shook his head. “This will be his second big circle around the -slough,” he said. “If he repeats the maneuver he will pass to the south -of us. I don’t like the notion of being hemmed in. We’ve got to think of -to-night. If they are making the slough their headquarters they will -camp there. Unless we head Mary-Lou off she would ride right into them.” - -“We must be close upon the trail between the Slavi village and the -slough,” said Loseis. - -“But we’re still too near the slough. We must make further south.” - -Once more they took to the grass. For several hours they saw no more of -the searchers. They made their last spell in a poplar bluff (as the -patches of scrub are called) overlooking the trail between the lake and -the slough, but much nearer the former. - -They had not been there long when they were filled with disquietude by -the sight of another of the Crees approaching from the direction of the -Slavi village. - -“He’s been in to look about,” said Conacher. “Natural enough.” As the -man drew closer he added with a certain relief: “He doesn’t look as if -he had discovered anything important. I guess Mary-Lou has side-stepped -him.” - -Their thoughts were given a sudden new turn, when the Cree turning out -of the trail, put his horse directly for the bluff, Conacher and Loseis -hastily retreated within the thickest part of the miniature wood. The -Cree could not ride in among the little trees. Dismounting, he tied his -horse. - -Then began a grim game of I Spy with death for the stakes. Conacher and -Loseis enjoyed a certain advantage, because they were aware of their -danger, while the redskin was not. He was merely following general -instructions to search all likely places of concealment. He was taking -no particular care to muffle the sound of his progress, and they could -generally follow it. When he went one way they went the other. But there -were harrowing periods when they could hear nothing. The bluff was over -an acre in extent, and it was impossible to see more than half a dozen -yards through the thickly springing stems. Once he caught them in a -corner, and they were almost forced out into the open. Another time they -actually had a glimpse of his passing. They stood frozen in their -tracks. With what thankful hearts they heard him return to his horse at -last. They flung themselves down to let the hideous strain relax. - -They ate again. Satisfied now, that they had done their utmost, they -rolled up in their blankets, and slept for eight hours on end. It was -twilight when they awoke. They ate the last of the food they had -brought. - -“It will be prairie chicken for breakfast if Mary-Lou doesn’t come,” -remarked Conacher. - -“She will come if they have not taken her,” said Loseis confidently. - -“What I am chiefly afraid of,” said Conacher, “is that she will pass -right out with fright when we rise beside the trail.” - -“When we were children we used to signal to each other by imitating the -cry of the kill-dee,” said Loseis. “I will try that.” - -When the stars came out they moved down beside the faint track worn in -the buffalo grass. Conacher, pulling his blanket around his shoulders, -squatted in the grass, smoking, and Loseis leaned her cheek against his -shoulder. - -“How strange!” she murmured. - -“What is, sweetheart?” - -“Us two little things out here in the middle of the bald-headed. I feel -about an inch high under these stars.” - -“Better than last night,” suggested Conacher. - -“Rather! . . . Paul, if we ever have any children, I wonder if this will -mean anything to them?” - -Conacher was more moved than he cared to show. Loseis, scarcely more -than a child herself, dreaming of having children of her own! “Surely!” -he said with assumed lightness. “Think how they’ll be able to put it -over the other kids! ‘My Ma and my Pa were chased by Injuns!’” - -Loseis chuckled. “If we come through all right it will be a wonderful -thing to have shared,” she murmured. “It will help us over the tiresome -parts.” - -“You’re a wise little duck!” he whispered. - -“Why?” - -“Other girls refuse to admit beforehand that there could be any tiresome -parts.” - -“How do you know?” she asked quickly. - -He swallowed his chuckle. “Oh, you learn these things from books, and -from other men,” he said. - -“I know that I shall not be marrying an angel,” she said, nestling -against him; “and I assure you that you are not.” - -“Angel enough for me!” he said, kissing her. - -There was a vibration in the stillness. At first they thought it was a -trick of the desirous imagination; then by degrees they became sure. -Horses were approaching along the trail at a walk. The slowness of the -pace was eloquent of the red girl’s terrors, and of the loyalty and -strength of will that forced her out into the night in spite of her -terrors. Conacher and Loseis rose to their feet. - -Finally they made out shadowy forms in the trail. Loseis uttered the -plaintive cry of the little bird that haunts the edges of the prairie -sloughs. The shadowy horses stopped. There was a moment of painful -suspense. It was not a natural place, of course, to find the kill-dee. - -“Risk it!” whispered Conacher. “Speak to her!” - -“Mary-Lou,” said Loseis softly; “we are here!” - -There was no answer. They apprehended through the dark that the solitary -rider had slipped out of the saddle. Running forward they found her half -fainting, but clinging to the horses still. - -She quickly recovered. Ah! what a joyful reunion that was! Sharers in -danger!—there is no other bond quite the same as this. They all babbled -at once. Loseis and Mary-Lou clung to each other weeping; Conacher -embraced them both indiscriminately. - -“I so scare’!” Mary-Lou whispered in Loseis’ ear. “I know the Crees out -here somewhere. I t’ink they get you sure. But I got come jus’ the same. -When I see you in the trail I t’ink it is the Crees. I am near die -then!” - -“You’re the bravest of any of us!” whispered Loseis. “Because you know -what fear is!” - -While the girls whispered Conacher turned his attention to the horses. -Mary-Lou had brought the best procurable, and he was well-pleased. She -had brought a fair store of smoked meat and fish also, but not enough to -see them through, of course. - -“Tatateecha t’ink I lyin’ till he see me start,” she explained. - -“Let us ride,” said Conacher. “We can talk as we go.” - -They mounted. The horses were still fresh and coquettish with the bit. -What a delight it was to feel good horseflesh between the knees once -more. Their breasts swelled with renewed hope. - -“Which way?” asked Loseis. - -“Southwest,” said Conacher; “because that is the direction they would -least expect us to take. At daylight we’ll turn, and lay our proper -course northwest. Save your horses.” - -They set off at an easy trot. When the horses settled to their work, -they let the reins lie loose on their necks. It was safest to let these -prairie-bred beasts choose their own footing. Now the North Star must be -kept over the horse’s right flank. Conacher chose a bright star in the -southwest for a beacon. As they rode they exchanged experiences. -Mary-Lou said: - -“Las’ night all the Crees around the post is after you, so I have no -trouble. I walk around the side of the hill, and cross the creek, and -climb the ridge. I hide in the bush till daylight. I hear you cry: -‘Good-by! Good-by!’ across the river. That cry it hurt my heart though I -know it is a fool. I t’ink maybe you break a leg on the cut-bank. In the -morning I see where some Crees is camp beside the trail, and I go around -them. Then I go back to the trail and run to the Slavi village. I am -there before the sun is half way up the sky. I sleep long.” - -“What did you do when the Cree came in?” asked Loseis. - -“Wah! He come down from the prairie when nobody is lookin’ that way. All -are scare’! I snatch up a shawl and put it over my head like the ot’er -women. I stay with the ot’er women. He not know me. Bam-bye he go back -again.” - -The course they were following led them roughly parallel with -Blackburn’s Lake. When the moon rose they could see it palely gleaming -in the distance. It was an exhilarating ride; the wind created by their -own passage blew cool about their faces; the exercise of riding kept -them tingling. With every additional mile that they put between them and -their enemies their hearts rose. Conacher attempted to sing. But though -there was no danger in raising the voice here, the great brooding -silence was too much for him. In spite of themselves they talked in -undertones. - -Just before dawn they spelled alongside a poplar bluff to allow the -horses to graze. Here the humans enjoyed the luxury of a fire again, and -the stimulus of hot food. Though the meal was only of smoked fish -without sauce or bread, such a complete sense of comfort is not to be -had under civilized conditions. They groaned at the necessity of -breaking camp. - -After a two-hour rest they saddled, and turned at right angles to their -former course. The sun had risen in a cloudless sky, and the air was -like wine. At mid-morning they calculated that they were abreast of Old -Wives’ Slough again, but now many miles to the westward. Coming to -another sapphire-colored slough lying under a rather prominent rise to -the eastward, which had a well-grown poplar bluff on its slope, Conacher -called a halt for the balance of the day. - -“We need sleep,” he said; “moreover it is just possible if they ride -west to-day, that they might catch sight of us from some height or -another. The horses will be well hidden alongside the bluff yonder.” - -Picketing the horses to keep them from straying, they ate again. On this -occasion Loseis insisted on being allowed to stand the first watch; and -Conacher dispatched her to the top of the rise, while he rolled up in -his blanket. - -In the afternoon he relieved her. From the top of the rise it was -evident that this was the highest point in many miles around. To -Conacher lying in the grass smoking, it seemed as if half the world was -spread before him. In that crystal clearness he could even trace the -line of the valley of Blackburn’s River. The easterly horizon was closed -in by the land rising on the other side of the river. The pale green sea -of the prairie between was always the same, and never quite the same. -Apparently every yard of it was open to his vision; but Conacher knew -from past experience that this was not so. Every swell of the land -melted so softly into the swell beyond that one could not guess the -hollow between. Conacher remembered the old-time stories of how the -Indians could steal up on the wagon-trains camped in the open prairie. - -As if evoked by that thought he saw Indians riding towards him then. It -was what he was looking for and least desired to see. He glimpsed them -as they crossed a hollow; a moment later they trotted over a little -rise. There were three of them, they were less than a mile away; they -were heading directly for the spot where he lay. This time an encounter -could not be avoided. All his high hopes came tumbling down like a house -of cards. - -Conacher ran down the hill to alarm his camp. There was no time to ride -away. Best for them to keep the shelter they had. A word told Loseis and -Mary-Lou what was upon them. They led the horses close up behind the -bluff of trees, and tied them. They scattered the remaining embers of -the fire, and beat them out. Conacher and Loseis took up a position -within the trees facing the summit of the rise, gun in hand. The girl’s -face was pale and resolute. - -“I can shoot straight, too,” she said quietly. - -They waited. - -“All three of them are together now,” said Conacher. “We must get them -all. And their horses too. If we get them all it will be some time -before Gault learns what has happened. We will still have a chance.” - -The three horsemen appeared at the top of the rise, and reined up. They -were quite at their ease. Each slung a leg over his saddle to rest, and -produced a pipe. There they stayed, silhouetted against the tender blue -sky. One had a pair of field-glasses which was passed from hand to hand. -Conacher and Loseis instinctively drew back a little further amongst the -saplings. Suddenly the horses behind them whinnied; and Conacher groaned -in bitterness of spirit. - -However, at that moment a small troop of wild horses appeared out of a -depression to the north. Led by a bay stallion with arched neck and -streaming tail, they trotted past. In the chorus of neighing and -whinnying which arose, the sounds made by Conacher’s horses escaped the -notice of the Crees. - -After what seemed like an age-long wait to the watchers hidden in the -poplars, the three Indians slipped out of their saddles, tightened -girths and mounted again. - -“Now for it!” whispered Conacher. “Do not fire until they are within a -hundred feet. Bring down the horses first. You take the piebald and I’ll -take the other two.” - -But to their amazement and delight the riders wheeled and disappeared -the way they had come. For a moment they stared at the empty place with -hanging mouths. Then Conacher made as if to run out from among the -trees. Loseis clutched him. - -“It may be a trick!” she gasped. - -They waited several minutes, not daring to rejoice yet. - -“I _must_ go look!” said Conacher. “I must know what they are doing.” - -Loseis made no further effort to restrain him; and he ran up to the top -of the rise, and flung himself down. At first he could see nothing but -grass. Then the three riders rose mysteriously out of the grass, -trotting away as they had come; showing their backs . . . their _backs_! -Conacher nearly choked with joy. He waited awhile yet to make doubly -sure. They disappeared and appeared again, holding steadily to the east. -They shrank to mere specks in the green sea. - -Conacher leaped to his feet, and charged back down the hill, yelling and -brandishing his gun. Loseis snatched up her gun warily. Not until he -came close did she comprehend that this was a pantomime of joy. He swept -her clean off her feet in his embrace. - -“They’ve gone back!” he shouted. “This was the outer edge of their -patrol. They’ve given up the search! After this we’ve got nothing to -contend with but nature!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - HUNGER - - -Nature! They were to discover during the days that followed that she was -no mean antagonist. At first everything went delightfully; the sun -warmed and cheered them by day; the stars whispered at night. The moon -was swallowed up in the dawn now. On the shortest night of the year -there was scarcely any darkness; then the nights began to lengthen -imperceptibly. They rode and spelled and rode again. They built great -fires. The character of the country never changed. The sea of green -grass seemed to be limitless. - -On the third day the horse that Conacher rode sickened mysteriously. On -the following morning it was incapable of bearing him. Loseis shook her -head ominously. - -“It is a sort of distemper that attacks them in the summer,” she said. -“He will be sick for weeks. We might as well leave him. The others may -catch it from him.” - -So Conacher was obliged to set out on foot. The sick horse screamed -piteously upon being left behind; and attempted to follow; but fell down -in the grass, where he lay struggling feebly and watching them with -raised head until they passed out of sight. They could not now hope to -make more than thirty or forty miles a day, though all took turns in -riding. And still there was no suggestion of their approach to a great -river. The prairie rolled on as before. As far as Conacher could tell -they had not yet even passed the crown of the watershed. They all had -their sickening moments of doubt. Suppose there was no river? - -Loseis’ worst prognostications were fulfilled. The other two horses -sickened. By the sixth day they were all on foot. Mary-Lou’s moccasins -wore through; and they had nothing out of which to make new ones. -Fortunately both Loseis and Conacher wore boots. The prairie which -looked so smooth made rough walking for humans, and their progress was -cut down, Conacher figured, to between twenty and twenty-miles [missing -or incorrect word] a day. The eighth day passed without any sign of the -river of promise. Conacher estimated that they had covered nearly three -hundred miles. - -They had met with no game on the prairie except the ubiquitous chickens. -Conacher was averse to wasting his precious bullets on such small -fowl—it is very easy to miss a prairie chicken with a rifle; -consequently they had depended on the meat and fish brought by Mary-Lou. -On the seventh day it was exhausted, and they ate chicken. On that -miserable eighth day some bad fairy waved a wand, and the chicken -disappeared from the prairie. During the entire day Conacher did not -obtain a shot. Consequently they went supperless to bed. - -He was up at sunrise, ranging the prairie while the girls slept. But -with no luck. There was nothing living in sight except the gophers who -gained the shelter of their burrows ere he could come close enough to -hope to hit them with his clumsy gun. In desperation he did shoot at -gophers at last, only to plug the earth. When he returned to camp, the -girls, having heard the sound of his gun, awaited him with anticipatory -smiles, and he had the bitterness of showing them his empty hands. There -was no breakfast. - -On this first morning it was easy to turn it into a joke. - -“Anyway, I’m sick of meat,” said Loseis. - -“My people lak go ’ongry for awhile,” said Mary-Lou. “Mak’ the big feed -taste better bam-bye.” - -“Well, it’ll save a lot of time,” said Conacher with a sheepish grin. He -felt responsible for their plight. - -They set forth briskly enough; but were very glad to rest when -mid-morning came. All of them were now feeling very painful gnawings, -but they concealed it from each other. Conacher prowled over the prairie -in vain. They listlessly resumed their march. - -During the course of the afternoon they came unexpectedly to the lip of -a deep coulee with a trickle of water in the bottom. To Conacher’s -dismay it proved to be flowing in a southerly direction. This was -exactly opposite to what he expected. It was against all the theories as -to the lay of this unexplored land, and he was ready to despair. -However, there was nothing to do but to keep on the way they were going. - -An hour later they crossed it again. The water was now flowing north, -and Conacher’s mind was somewhat relieved. Upon this second crossing -they found more water than before in the streamlet, and a fringe of -spruce trees, the first grown trees they had seen since leaving -Blackburn’s River. They also found, what was more important to them, -berry-bushes, and a patch of wild strawberries. Only the strawberries -were ripe. Before eating any, they carefully collected them in their -little cooking pot, and scrupulously divided them. There was about a -cupful apiece. - -The berries were deliciously refreshing; but they seemed to have the -effect of still further sharpening the pangs of hunger. They searched -far up and down the coulee for more, but in vain. It was an isolated -patch of trees and bushes. - -“Let us get on,” Conacher kept urging the girls. “We must reach a game -country before our strength fails.” - -They wearily climbed the steep side of the coulee to the endless rolling -prairie again, that they now hated. On this day they suffered a keener -pain from hunger than during the days that followed. All three became -tight-lipped and silent. Their limbs were leaden; and progress was -painfully slow. Twice more they crossed the coulee. No more trees or -berries. It was now evident that the general course of the little stream -was northwest, which was in line with Conacher’s calculations. It was -undoubtedly a tributary of the big river they were seeking: but whether -the river were ten miles or a hundred miles further, it was impossible -to tell. It was exasperating in their fatigued condition to climb in and -out of the steep coulee so many times: but even so they made better time -than they could have done by following it throughout its crazy windings. - -Seeing more spruce trees, they descended into it to spend the night, but -found no berries here. They heaped a great fire and made themselves soft -beds of spruce boughs: but their empty stomachs refused to be assuaged -by these luxuries. Mary-Lou cut three small strips from the top of one -of her worn-out moccasins, and boiled them, and handed them around. - -“Chew,” she said. “It will stop the pains anyhow.” - -Afterwards a curious false strength seemed to come to them. They felt no -desire to sleep, but sat up for hours around their fire under the -spruces, talking animatedly with flushed faces and bright eyes. - -“When I was a kid,” said Conacher, “I had a grand-uncle in New York, who -was a great old high-liver. Never thought about anything but eats. He -knew all the best restaurants in the city, and what was the proper thing -to order in each place. He took me out to dinner a couple of times when -I was a boy. Once we went to Delmonico’s. I have never forgotten what we -ate that day. First oysters. I suppose you don’t know oysters, Loseis. -Well, they are the best eating there is. Slip down your throat like -velvet. Then a thick soup that was called potage Mongole. God knows what -was in it. It was a combination of all the most delicious flavors you -ever knew. Then there was something that was called Tournedos Henri -Quatre. It was like beef, but it was the sauce that made all the -difference. The French are wizards for sauces. We ended up with mince -pie; good old American mince pie; and there’s nothing better! Oh, what a -feed that was!” - -“The best thing I ever tasted,” said Loseis vivaciously, “was roast pig. -Three years ago Jim Cornwall came through from the Crossing with dogs, -and brought my father a little frozen pig on his sled for Christmas. We -thawed him out and roasted him until his hide crackled. Oh, my dear! the -smell alone would drive you crazy; and the taste was better than -anything in the world. I can taste him now! Do you member, Mary-Lou?” - -“I remember,” said Mary-Lou, closing her eyes. “I did taste that pig -meat. It was sweeter than young porcupine; it was sweeter than -moose-nose or the back-fat of caribou; it was sweeter than all meat.” - -“And do you remember?” asked Loseis, “when they stuck the knife into him -how a little stream of juicy fat ran down?” - -“We soaked it up with bread,” said Mary-Lou. - -The subject was inexhaustible. They discussed it with anxious, drawn, -eager faces. It never occurred to them to laugh at each other or at -themselves. When they finally slept they dreamed of feasting. - -Another day of misery followed no different from the day before, except -that the pangs of hunger were less sharp and more enervating. It was -hard to keep walking. It nearly broke Conacher’s heart to see the boyish -Loseis pressing on with set face, quite unconscious of how she was -staggering in her tracks. He took the second gun from her. She fought -like a little spitfire to regain it, weeping out of anger and weakness. -Her anger smoldered all the rest of the day, making the way even more -bitter. Mary-Lou stood starvation better than either of the whites. They -found another tantalizing patch of berries; and wasted hours looking for -more. As on the night before, their supper consisted of a small strip of -boiled hide apiece. - -On the third day of starvation it seemed a wonder that they were able to -move at all. Nevertheless they staggered on for a few miles. To add to -their miseries it rained copiously; and their blankets soaked up some -additional pounds of water. All day a division existed between Conacher -and Loseis that was harder to bear than starvation. It was due to -nothing in the world but compassion. It made each tender heart rage to -behold the misery of the other. Especially Conacher’s, because he told -himself that no woman ought to be subjected to such an ordeal. He -supposed from Loseis’ black looks that she was blaming him for having -led her into this, and he was ready to blow his brains out. - -The little stream having received a tributary from the south, flowed -with increased speed and volume. It now held a fairly straight course -for the northwest; and it became evident that the whole country was -sloping gently in that direction. The walls of the coulee gradually -became higher; in the bottom it was now continuously wooded; but they -felt too weak to climb down for a few berries. These changes in the -country suggested that they were approaching the bottom of the -watershed, and at midday from a rise in the prairie, Conacher at last -beheld a blue shadow athwart the westerly horizon which indicated the -valley of a considerable river. It seemed like a mockery now. It was a -good twenty-five miles distant, and in their weakened state that was -half a world away. - -At the end of the day they made a detour from the coulee to visit a -small slough and a poplar bluff that they had marked from a rise. It was -a likely place to find bear. There was no bear, but the water of the -slough was sweet, and they determined to spend the night in that spot. -Will it be our last camp? Conacher thought with dread in his heart. The -sky was still threatening, and he constructed an inclined thatch of -poplar leaves, with a fire in front for the girls. They chewed their -strips of boiled hide. This finished one moccasin, except for the ragged -lower part, that Mary-Lou had bound round her foot. Afterwards, when -Loseis, with a cold face, turned to seek her blanket, Conacher felt that -he could bear no more. - -“Loseis . . . !” he murmured heart-brokenly. - -Mary-Lou vanished away amongst the little trees. - -“What is it?” asked Loseis coldly. - -“I cannot bear it . . . !” - -“What?” - -“Your look! . . . Forgive me!” - -“For what must I forgive you?” - -“I don’t know. Whatever it is that I have done that angers you. For -getting you into this scrape.” - -Her face looked very small and pinched. It worked curiously with anger. -Her voice came unnaturally sharp: “Forgive you! What sort of talk is -this? Are you trying to make me feel worse than I feel already? Aren’t -you satisfied with doing most of the work, and walking twice as far to -hunt, and carrying a double load, but you must make me feel what a -burden I am by asking me to forgive you!” - -He only dimly understood the torment of this proud nature. “But Loseis -. . . !” he protested, staring, “this is foolishness . . . !” - -“Of course! of course! of course! I am a fool! That is well understood!” - -“Listen to me,” he said doggedly. “You say I carry too heavy a burden. -Why add to it with your cold and angry looks? The weight of two guns is -nothing to me. It is your hard eyes that break me down.” - -Loseis’ reply was to burst into tears. - -He took her in his arms. “Don’t you love me any more?” he whispered. - -She crept within his arms, but she abused him still. “You fool! it is -because I love you so, that I am always angry. It drives me wild to -think that I should spoil the life of a man like you!” - -“But that’s nonsense!” said Conacher. “I am nothing in particular. A man -only has one life. How could he spend it better? We shall go together. -What else matters . . . Don’t you feel better now?” - -“A little bit,” she admitted. “But to-morrow I shall be angry with you -again. You are too good and patient. If you turned hateful I should feel -better. It would even things up a little.” - -“You’re a funny one!” he murmured. - -However, the air _was_ cleared; and they rolled up in their blankets -with a bit of comfort at their hearts. - -When Conacher awoke next morning a light rain was drifting down. He -pulled his blanket closer around him. Lying there like that one did not -suffer; it was warm; the pangs of hunger did not make themselves felt; a -comfortable numbness filled the frame. But the thought of getting up was -hideous. For a long time he lay struggling with it. Useless for him to -tell himself that he was the head of the party; the girls were dependent -on him; it was up to him to find them food; he felt that he _could not_ -get up; the effort was too great. - -In the end he had to get up. The first few moments were the worst. He -stood in the rain, swaying and nauseated, a black mist swimming before -his eyes. Each morning it was much worse. If he could conquer this first -weakness, he could go on through the day—but to-morrow morning! He -shook that thought away. He forced himself to walk up and down, -supporting himself by the little trees. After awhile he felt better. -Picking up his gun, he started on his hopeless circuit of the bluff. - -He paused in front of the little shelter he had constructed for the -girls. They slept. Loseis was lying with her head pillowed on Mary-Lou’s -shoulder like a child. In her weakness she looked entirely the child, -the sick child. At the sight of those transparent cheeks and bluish -eyelids, Conacher’s breast was wrung with agony. The worst of overcoming -the physical weakness was, that one then began to think again, with -horrible clearness. How could he ask this exhausted child to go on any -further? She was dearer to him than his life. Would it not be kinder to -end her sufferings while she slept? She opened her eyes, and smiled at -him enchantingly. That smile capped his agony. Swallowing the groan that -was forced up by his breast, he smiled back, and staggered on. - -Like all the prairie sloughs, this one lay in a dish-like depression -surrounded by a shallow rim of grass. Conacher had made half his round -of the bluff, when over this rim at a distance of about a hundred yards -appeared a lumbering black body of an astonishing bigness. For an -instant he thought his senses were failing him; he began to tremble -violently; but he quickly realized that it was a veritable bear. A -bear’s eye-sight is not very keen, and the animal had not seen him. He -drew back amongst the little trees, struggling to control his -excitement. You _can not_ miss him! he kept telling himself. - -The bear was evidently making for the bluff to breakfast off poplar -bark. Conacher realized with a pang that he was directly in the wind of -the animal. The bear was in no hurry. He turned aside to snuff and -scratch at the roots of a clump of roses. He was the largest black bear -that Conacher had ever seen. The big head was dwarfed by his mighty -rump. His black pelt was grayed with moisture. The man’s mouth watered -ridiculously. The bear turned towards him, and his heart began to thump. -Then the animal changed his mind, and sauntered around the rim of the -bench. Conacher, stepping with infinite care, kept pace with him amongst -the little trees. - -The bear disappeared over the edge of the rim, and Conacher’s heart -almost broke. Should I go after him? he asked himself. No! he is bound -to come to the bluff and the slough. The animal reappeared and hope -flared up anew. He was heading towards the bluff again. He was no longer -directly in Conacher’s wind, consequently the chance of getting him was -better. But the deliberation of the beast well-nigh maddened the man. -Bruin stood gazing off to the east as if he were debating the choice -between this and some other feeding ground. He sat up on his haunches, -and licked his paws. Finally he came lumbering towards the trees in a -businesslike manner. Conacher raised his gun. - -Before the bear had made half the distance that separated them, though -Conacher had not moved, the animal’s mysterious instinct warned him of -the presence of danger. He stopped with a woof! of alarm, and turning in -his tracks, galloped back for the shelter of the rim. Conacher fired. -The bear’s broad beam offered him a goodly mark, and he knew by the -tremor that went through the animal that he had hit him: but it was not -in a vulnerable spot. He galloped on without a pause. He disappeared -over the encircling rim of grass. A voice seemed to cry inside Conacher: -“You have lost your last chance!” - -He found strength to run as if he had not been starved for four days. As -he topped the rise, he saw the bear lying in the grass a hundred feet -away; and a great, calm thankfulness filled his breast. It was all -right! The animal was not dead, but disabled in his hind quarters. He -lay with his head between his paws awaiting the end. Conacher dispatched -him with a bullet through the brain. - -Crying out: “A bear! I’ve got him!” Conacher dropped to his knees, and -started instanter to skin his prey. Presently Mary-Lou who was more -skillful at this job than he, relieved him. Loseis stood looking on like -a happy little ghost. They could not wait to skin the bear entire; but -cut off a piece of meat, and ran back to the fire with it. - -Conacher kept saying over and over like an old woman: “Mind! Mind! Only -a little piece at first, or it will make you sick!” - -“If there is meat, why not eat?” grumbled Mary-Lou. - -Nevertheless she obeyed; and at first only three tiny pieces were set -upon pointed sticks to roast over the fire. It may be guessed that they -were not _very_ well cooked before they were eaten. Conacher and Loseis -nibbled them to make them go as far as possible. Mary-Lou saw no sense -at all in this proceeding, but loyally followed their example. - -“Is that all?” said Loseis wistfully. - -“Mary-Lou could put some small pieces in the pot and boil them,” -suggested Conacher. “The soup would be good for you.” - -“Soup!” said Loseis, making a face. - -“Well, by and by we will roast another little piece. To-morrow, if you -feel all right, you can eat all you want.” - -There was no question of moving on that day. They ate a little more; -slept; and ate again. Conacher and Loseis sat happily side by side under -the shelter of the leaves, watching Mary-Lou cut off thin slabs of the -meat, and hang them in the smoke of the fire. The Indian girl also -contrived moccasins for herself out of squares of the hide. - -Next morning they awoke with bounding pulses as if they had never known -what it was to starve. At breakfast time they feasted without stint. -Their cheeks seemed to have filled out over night; their eyes were -bright; their teeth gleaming. There was something so comical in the -sight of this abrupt transformation, that they continually burst out -laughing with their mouths full at the sight of each other’s joy. - -They set out again laden with as much meat as they could carry. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - DOWNSTREAM - - -As they descended by imperceptible degrees towards the river, they could -no longer make out the line of its valley ahead. The bald-headed prairie -now began to take on a parklike aspect. Groups of graceful, full-grown -poplars with their greenish yellow bark became more and more numerous, -gradually leading them into a well-grown forest of aspen trees, -interspersed with spruce. But there were still grassy openings of all -sizes, from pretty glades to miniature prairies. Through the trackless -forest it was very slow going; giant raspberry bushes, now in blossom, -barred the way; rotting trunks lay prone in every direction; and vivid -moss treacherously masked the holes where the ancient stems had rotted -clean out of the ground. - -As the afternoon wore on, and there was no end to this, no sign of any -river, a feeling of discouragement attacked them again. Could they have -been mistaken? And then without warning, they issued out of the trees on -to a grassy knoll; and there, with a magnificent effect of dramatic -surprise, lay the long-sought river at their very feet. - -It was a thrilling moment. That view, so cunningly masked by the belt of -forest, was one of the finest views imaginable. It was a first-class -river. It flowed in the bottom of a valley at least six hundred feet -deep, and no more than half a mile across from rim to rim. From the -opposite rim, the prairie rolled on to the horizon. It was not so much a -valley as a deep, clean gash in the prairie. The side upon which they -stood was mantled with the deep green of spruce, while the other side -rolled up in fantastic knobs and terraces of buffalo grass. - -The river poured a smooth, yellowish green flood through the bottom of -this mighty trough; just the color of poplar bark. It was broken by -several high islands, covered with spruce trees, which stemmed the -current like majestic ships. The point upon which they stood was on the -outside of a great bend, and they could look far up-stream, where the -river seemed to flatten out, and to issue dazzling and molten from the -afternoon sun itself. - -Conacher’s first thought was: “Plenty of water! I’ll be able to make a -raft. We’ll have some easy days now.” - -They gazed at the noble prospect with full hearts. Conacher in -particular was bursting with pride. He felt like the creator of that -river, because they had found it where he had said it would be. - -“We happen to have hit it just right,” he said with a transparent air of -carelessness. “In years to come when there is a trail it will strike the -river here. Above here, you see, it flows east of north, and at this -point it swings around to the westward. That agrees with the Indian -reports. It is the only river east of the Rockies that has a westward -trend.” - -“It is too beautiful to be called the Mud River,” said Loseis. - -“After this it shall be Laurentia’s River.” - -“Suppose there are rapids,” suggested the matter-of-fact Mary-Lou. - -“It will probably flow smooth for two hundred miles,” said Conacher. -“Then it will strike the limestone outcrop that crosses the whole -country. We’ll find rapids, maybe cascades, there.” - -“And we are the first whites to see it!” murmured Loseis. - -“If I can bring him a good sketch map of it, it will put my boss in a -good humor,” said Conacher. - -They made their way down to the water’s edge; and chose a camping spot -on a curious tongue of land pointing downstream. At the highest stage of -water it was an island; but it was now connected with the shore by a bar -of dried mud. On one side of them the resistless brown flood swept down -silently, its silken surface etched with eddies; on the other side there -was a quiet back-water which Conacher said would be ideal for -constructing the raft. He spent the remaining hours of daylight in -searching for the three big, dead trees that he required for that -purpose. - -They slept in great comfort on heaps of spruce boughs, with a generous -fire between them. Even in July the nights were cold. In the silence of -the night they discovered that the smoothly flowing river had a voice. -It was neither a roar nor a whisper, but partook of the nature of both -sounds. Though scarcely audible, it was tremendous; like the breathing -and stirring of a mighty bed-fellow. - -The entire following day was devoted to the construction of the raft. -Conacher cut down his trees; lopped off the branches; and chopped the -trunks in two. He then launched his logs, and floated them together. -During the earlier stages of his labor, he was often obliged to wade -thigh deep into the icy water. Since he had neither spikes to fasten the -logs, nor rope to lash them together, he was forced patiently to burn -holes in them with his ramrod, heated in the fire. Twenty-four such -holes had to be burned; and twelve neatly fitting wooden pegs shaped -with the ax. Two short lengths were laid across the six logs and pegged -down. The peg at each corner was allowed to stick up a few inches. A -flooring of poles was then laid on the crosspieces to keep the -passengers and their slender baggage dry. These poles were not fastened -down, but were held in place by the pegs at each corner. Conacher’s last -act was to burn a hole in each of the outside logs into which he drove a -stout forked branch to serve as a rowlock. The oars were merely small -spruce poles flattened with the ax at the broad end. - -The builder surveyed his completed effort with a pride that was -difficult to conceal. “After all this work,” he said with his offhand -air, “I shall be good and sore if we have to abandon it in a few miles.” - -“It is beautiful!” said Loseis. - -For a touch of bravura Conacher made a little hearth of clay tiled with -flat stones on one end of his raft; and laid a fire ready to light. “So -we can boil our meat as we travel,” he explained. - -“It is like a steamboat!” said Loseis. - -They turned in early; and were ready to push off soon after sunrise the -following morning. This was the fourteenth morning after their departure -from the slough where their enemies had turned back. The raft proved to -possess ample buoyancy; they could move about on it with a certain -freedom. The floor of poles held them safely above danger of a wetting. -Mary-Lou lighted the fire, and put the breakfast on to cook. - -Loseis and Conacher sculled out of the back-water. At the foot of the -island the current seized them as in a giant hand and drew them along. -They took their oars inboard. There was nothing further to do. The -tendency of the current itself was to draw them into the center of the -stream, and keep them there. They sat down on their blankets to survey -the scenery. The raft gyrated slowly in the eddies, giving them views up -and down stream without so much as having to turn their heads. - -“This is better than walking,” said Conacher. - -Loseis agreed that it was; nevertheless she looked with some trepidation -to see what each new bend of the unknown river had to show. - -Conacher assured her on the word of a geologist that as long as it ran -between dirt banks there could be no serious obstruction to navigation; -when rocks appeared, then look out! He had note-book and compass out to -make memoranda of its course. He calculated that the current was running -about five miles an hour. - -The sun was hot to-day; basking deliciously in its rays, the girl fell -into a comfortable doze. The scenery was beautiful and monotonous; they -looked at it, only partly aware of what they were looking at, a half -smile fixed on their lips. Thus they recuperated from the fatigues of -the past few days. Since the raft did not move through the water, but -with the water, it came to seem as if it was not moving at all. The raft -was the fixed point, and the shores were being slowly rolled past them -like a panorama on great spools. - -This pleasant dream was rudely broken into by the sound of a hoarse roar -downstream. - -“Rapid!” said Mary-Lou, moving towards an oar. - -Loseis looked reproachfully at Conacher. - -They edged the raft close inshore where they could land quickly if need -be. - -“Let’s have a look at it before you call me a liar,” said Conacher. - -Rounding the outside of a bend, they came in view of the white horses -leaping below. An exclamation of fear broke from the girls. Conacher -caught hold of a fallen tree to stay their progress while he studied the -white water. - -“Nothing but a riffle,” he announced. “Its bark is worse than its bite. -This is a sharper bend than usual, and it’s just the water backing up on -the outside that makes all the fuss. Notice that all the waves are -regular and unbroken. Deep water. It will be perfectly safe to run it if -you are willing.” - -“All right if you say so,” said Loseis. - -They cast off from their tree. Conacher and Mary-Lou each stood up with -an oar, and Loseis crouched behind them. - -“Head for the roughest part near the shore,” said Conacher, “and keep -her straight; that’s all.” - -Their hearts beat fast as the shores began to slip by with -ever-increasing swiftness. The voice of the rapid was like that of a -ravening beast. There is no other feeling quite like that upon the brink -of a rapid. The feeling is: No power on earth can save me from it -now—well, what the hell! They were gripped by an exquisite fear. -Finally the heavy raft wriggled over the first and the biggest of those -strange, fixed billows and stuck her nose in the trough. A sheet of -spray flew back over them, whereupon they were seized by a mad -exhilaration, and all three yelled like demons. The raft bucked over the -short, steep billows like a rogue horse. Conacher and Mary-Lou were -forced to their knees; and the latter lost her oar. A moment later they -found themselves in smooth water, roaring with laughter. - -As soon as they had eaten their supper that night, they pushed off -again. The girls slept while Conacher watched throughout the long -twilight. The sunset glow alternated with the cold eastern sky as the -raft waltzed gracefully in the eddies. They grounded her on a bar during -the few hours of darkness; and at dawn they pushed off again; the girls -watching now while Conacher slept. He awakened in the sunshine to find -them laughing at the antics of the bears on the steep banks. - -For three days they traveled in this pleasant fashion. Mooseberries and -black currants were ripening now. The bushes grew thickly along the -edges of the water and wherever there were berries there were bears. -Drifting down silently on the raft, Conacher could always get a shot in -the early mornings. The berries made a welcome change from a diet of -meat exclusively. - -As they traveled north the steep high banks gradually flattened down, -and the current of the river slackened. Finally the high banks -disappeared altogether; they could see nothing over the tops of the -poplars and pines that lined the water’s edge. The course of the stream -became very tortuous, and progress was slow. - -“We’re evidently coming to something,” Conacher remarked. “This country -is a vast belt of silt deposited by the river as the result of some -obstruction ahead.” - -On the fourth day the obstruction appeared in the form of a low wall of -limestone through which the river had finally succeeded in forcing a -passage. The rock walls were but three or four feet high, and the river -slipped between them very swiftly and smoothly with a curious growling -sound. On the other side the whole character of the country was changed. -Rock appeared everywhere; and the lush vegetation of the prairies was -gone. - -They had not gone far before they came to a rapid, a real rapid this -one, with great bowlders sticking up out of it, that tore the current to -white tatters. Landing at a safe distance above, they walked down along -the shore to see if there was a possible channel through. Conacher was -naturally averse to abandoning the raft which had cost him such pains. - -After a little study, he pointed out to the girls how it might be done. -“It would be foolish, though, to risk the guns and ammunition and the -ax. You girls carry the things along the shore, and I’ll take the raft -down.” - -“Suppose you hit a rock?” said Loseis, paling. - -“Why, I’d get a ducking, that’s all.” - -He accomplished the feat without accident. To the watching Loseis he -made an extraordinarily gallant figure, standing on the raft, braced and -swaying to every movement; his resolute glance fixed ahead, while he -paddled madly to steer it around obstructions. - -In the next rapid, an hour or so later, he was not so fortunate. The -raft, in spite of his efforts, slid up on a submerged shelf of rock, and -rearing on end, flung the loose poles in every direction. Conacher, -jumping clear of the wreck, went down with the current. The frame of the -raft followed him down; and he contrived to bring it ashore below; and -the paddle too. With some new poles the raft was as good as ever. - -However, the rapids seemed to grow successively worse; and Loseis -forbade him to risk his neck in the next one. They sent the raft down -empty. After a mad voyage, battered back and forth on the bowlders, it -came through minus its poles, somewhat loosened up but still -practicable. They then camped for the night. - -On the following day they were nosing along close to the shore with the -disquieting roar of a rapid in their ears, but apparently still at some -distance. The view down river was cut off by a low, stony hill, sparsely -covered with trees, around the base of which the stream wound its way. -Suddenly Conacher perceived that the current was sucking ominously -along-shore. That part of the shore was much cumbered with old down -trees. He drove the raft into the naked branches. - -“Grab hold!” he said sharply to the girls. - -They missed the first tree. Fine beads of perspiration broke out on -Conacher’s forehead. He perceived that in a dozen yards the raft would -be beyond his control. He seized the next overhanging branch, and wound -a leg around his improvised oarlock to hold the raft. The girls were now -fully alive to the danger. Mary-Lou climbed into the tree, and Loseis -swiftly passed her their precious few belongings. When everything was -ashore Conacher let the raft go, and it lumbered around the point with -surprising swiftness. - -“That’s the last of it,” said Conacher sadly. - -They climbed the stony hill. As they rounded the top, a hoarse, throaty -bellowing buffeted their ears; and a moment later a wild welter of white -water was spread before their eyes. They had seen nothing like this. -After rounding the hill the stream straightened out, and narrowing down -to a quarter of its usual width tumbled down as steeply as a flight of -stairs between high wooded banks. The impression of power was -overwhelming. The water was forced into great, regular billows which -looked to be fifteen feet high. Each billow or ridge of water converged -to a point in the middle; and the effect as one looked downstream was of -a series of blunt white arrows pointing up. No boat could have lived in -that turmoil. The raft—or what was left of it—was already out of -sight. The three looked at each other with scared and thankful faces. A -close call! - -They now had to adjust their minds to traveling on foot again—and this -would not be anything like the rolling prairie! The first thing was to -roll up their packs, and strap them on their backs. They then descended -into the gorge; but found it impossible to make headway along the steep -side, impeded with stones and down timber. They were forced to climb a -hundred feet or so to level ground. This was scarcely better. Only those -who have tried to make their way through a trackless virgin forest can -appreciate the difficulties that faced them in the shape of undergrowth, -fallen trees and holes in the earth. The débris of ages was heaped in -their path. They guided themselves by the sound of the cascade upon -their left. - -In a mile or so (which had all the effect of ten) the river fell quiet -again, and they pushed back to its bank. It was an open question which -was the more difficult going. Along the edge of the stream the dead -timber brought down by the freshets was left stranded in inextricable -tangles. Conacher finally chose a course parallel with the river bank, -and a few yards back from the edge. Here they were at least sure of a -supply of water. All day long it was a case of climbing over obstacles -or through them or chopping a way. Heart-breaking work. They camped -while it was still early, completely tired out. - -For day after day this continued. There was no lack of dead timber to -make another raft: but the rapids followed each other in such close -succession that it seemed a waste of time. It was exasperating to have -to undergo such crushing labor with the stream running alongside ready -to carry them in the desired direction. “If I only had a dug-out!” -Conacher groaned a dozen times a day. But even if they could have taken -the time to make a dug-out, there was no suitable timber in that stony -land. The noise of their progress through the bush scared away all game; -and they would soon have gone hungry, had it not been for the smoked -meat which Mary-Lou had thoughtfully provided. Presently this gave out, -and they had to lay over for a day, while Conacher hunted a bear, along -the river. Their clothes were in rags. - -In ten days Conacher figured that they had made about fifty miles: but -this was pure guesswork. It was now within two or three days of the time -when the surveying outfit was due at the mouth of the Mud River. - -The three travelers were sitting gloomily on the shore of the river in a -spot where it flowed as smoothly and prettily between poplar and -birch-covered shores as a river in a civilized land where picnics might -be held. The view downstream was blocked by a graceful island. Suddenly -around that island came poking the nose of a birch-bark canoe with a -single paddler. - -To those three that sight was like a blow between the eyes. They glanced -fearfully at each other for confirmation. It was a month since they had -seen others of their kind. They stared at the approaching canoe with -open mouths. Then Conacher jumped to his feet and hailed. The paddler -was arrested in mid-motion. He was no less startled by the meeting than -they. After a moment he came paddling gingerly towards them. They saw -that it was a white man, an odd, withered, brownish specimen, whose skin -was all of a color with his battered hat, and faded khaki jacket. - -He grounded his canoe gently in the mud, and stepped out. An old smoked -pioneer with a comically injured look which never varied. They shook -hands gravely all around before a word was spoken. - -“Who are you?” demanded Conacher and Loseis simultaneously. - -“Bill Mitchell,” he replied with the shrug and the aggrieved look that -were characteristic of him. “Who the hell are you?” - -“I am Conacher of the surveying outfit, and this is Miss Blackburn.” - -“Blackburn’s daughter!” exclaimed the old man with widening eyes. “Do -you mean to tell me you’ve come down from Blackburn’s Post this away!” - -Conacher was not anxious to go into lengthy explanations. “We’re -expecting to join my outfit on the Sinclair River,” he said quickly. -“How far are we from the Sinclair?” - -“Matter of ten mile. There’s one rapid between.” - -“Well, thank God!” cried Conacher fervently. “Have you seen the -surveying outfit?” - -“Spelled with them three days since,” replied the old man. “They’re -working up-stream slow. Ought to be off the mouth of the Mud River some -time to-morrow.” - -Conacher and Loseis exchanged a beaming look. All their troubles rolled -away. “Well, we didn’t manage that so badly,” said the former, -conceitedly. - -“What are you doing here?” Conacher asked of the old man. - -“Me?” he answered with his disgruntled look; “what do you think I’m -doin’? I’m prospectin’ this river. It ain’t never been prospected.” - -“But when you get above the rapids it’s a prairie river,” said Conacher. -“We came through three hundred miles of it, and there’s likely three -hundred miles more above that.” - -“Then I’ll work up to the mountains,” said the old man undisturbed. - -“You fellows ought to study a little geology before you break your -hearts with a journey like this,” said Conacher nettled. “Nobody has -ever found any amount of gold on the easterly slope of the Rockies.” - -“Mebbe this river comes right through the mountains like the Spirit and -the Sinclair,” said the old fellow obstinately. - -“Look at it!” said Conacher. “There’s damned little snow water in that. -It’s pure prairie mud.” - -“Oh, well, I’ve come so far I might as well go see,” he said calmly. “I -got all summer. All I want is to get into the mountains before I go into -winter quarters.” - -Conacher gave him up. He described the upper reaches of the river for -his benefit. “How will you get your canoe around the big fall?” he -asked. - -“Chop a trail through the bush, and then come back for it,” said the old -man calmly. “It don’t weigh but forty pound.” - -Looking into his canoe they perceived that his entire worldly goods -consisted of three bags of flour, a box of ammunition, and a slim -dunnage bag of odds and ends. It appeared that his gun was of the same -caliber as that carried by Conacher. The old man looked at the other’s -still partly filled ammunition belt desirously. - -“You’ll be joining your outfit to-morrow,” he said suggestively. - -“Tell you what I’ll do,” said Conacher. “Cache your flour here, and -carry us down to the mouth of the river and it shall be yours.” - -“Don’t mind ef I do,” said Bill Mitchell. - -After the labors of the past days that last ten miles was like riding in -a taxi. They whisked the light canoe around the rapid with no trouble at -all. Below, the Mud River widened out and found its way into the -Sinclair through a miniature delta amongst low, grassy islands covered -with gigantic cottonwood trees that created a dim green twilight below. -Mitchell landed them on a pine-clad point that looked down a reach of -the greater river, several miles long. The old man did not get out. - -“Won’t you spell with us?” asked Conacher politely. - -The pioneer rubbed his hairy chin, and squinted down river as if he had -perceived something important down there. “I guess not,” he drawled. -“Got to be gettin’ along.” With a casual good-by, he pushed off and -resumed his solitary journey up-stream. - -“What a strange creature!” murmured Loseis. - -“It was the presence of a lady which embarrassed him,” said Conacher. -“He confided to me that he had not seen a white girl in seven years.” - - * * * * * - -Twenty-four hours later it was Conacher who perceived, down at the end -of the long reach, the flash of wet paddles in the sun. - -“Here they come!” he cried. - -The two girls ran to his side. For a long time they could make out -nothing but the regular flash of several paddles like heliograph -signals. Finally four little black objects took shape down river. The -watchers filled with a mounting excitement that became painful to bear; -their breasts were like dynamos humming higher and higher until the -pitch became unendurable. They had looked forward to this meeting -through such hardships and perils! there had been so many days when they -despaired of accomplishing it! But here they came at last; men of their -own kind; friends; rescuers. Conacher and Loseis felt as if their hearts -would crack with joy. - -“My God! how astonished they’ll be!” said Conacher shakily. - -The impulse to make the most of their friends’ astonishment was -irresistible; and the three drew back under cover of the trees. Soon -they were able to distinguish that the approaching party consisted of -three white men and eight Indians traveling in three big dug-outs, and a -rough, narrow scow that was being poled along close to the shore. -Finally Conacher recognized his especial friend. - -“Alec Jordan!” he murmured with a tight, warm feeling around the heart. -“Good old Alec!” - -They saw that the oncoming boats intended to make a landing directly at -their feet. It was an inevitable camping-place. The three dug-outs -grounded almost simultaneously on the shingle. As the white men rose in -their places, Conacher stepped out from among the trees. - -“Hello, fellows!” he said in a casual voice. - -They stared at him completely awe-struck. “My God!” they murmured in -hushed tones; and looked at each other. The Indians in the scow pushed -off in a panic and floated away on the current. - -Conacher, pale with excitement, but grinning widely, stepped down the -bank. “I’m no ghost!” he cried. He marched up to Langmuir, the head of -the party. “I want to report for duty,” he said simply. - -“Report . . . for duty!” stammered Langmuir clownishly. - -Jordan was the first to recover from the shock. He flung his arms around -his friend. “Conacher! Conacher! _Conacher!_” he yelled, shaking him -violently as if to make certain that he was flesh and blood. - -“How in hell did you get here?” demanded Langmuir in a voice of extreme -bitterness, which was not really bitter. - -“Been waitin’ for you since yesterday,” said Conacher airily. “I cut -across the prairie north of Blackburn’s Post, and came down the Mud -River to head you off. Got a map of the river for you, chief, such as it -is.” - -“Well, I’m damned!” said Langmuir solemnly. And the others echoed him in -varying tones: “I’m _damned_!” - -Conacher was not yet done surprising them. As they turned to climb the -bank, he said somewhat nervously: “I’ve got a couple of guests with -me. . . .” - -Loseis stepped into view above. In breeches and Stetson, smiling -merrily, yet a little apprehensively, too, she made an enchanting -figure. The rents in her clothes, the marks of hardship in her face, -only set off the bravery of her spirit. To those white men so long -parted from the women of their race, it was like a miracle. - -“Miss Blackburn, gentlemen,” Conacher sang out. “Mr. Langmuir; Mr. -Jordan; Mr. Seely.” - -They snatched off their hats. “Pleased to meet you,” they mumbled -sheepishly. - -“Merciful Heaven! am I awake or dreaming!” Langmuir murmured to himself. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - CONCLUSION - - -The meeting at the mouth of the Mud River was the beginning of a still -longer journey for Loseis. But it was never again allowed to become an -arduous one for her. All hands, white and red, joined together to smooth -her way. She reigned the undisputed Princess of Langmuir’s party, -holding them in subjection with her smile. - -After a laborious month ascending the Sinclair, plotting the river and -collecting geological data and specimens, they came to a lonely trading -outpost on the Pacific side of the mountains, called Pinnacle House. It -stood amidst wild and beautiful surroundings in a deep green valley -between parallel ranges. The pointed limestone peaks gave it its name. -How strange it was to find such homely old friends as cabbages, onions -and potatoes growing in the trader’s garden! - -The trader was away on his usual summer journey to bring in supplies; -and they found his house occupied at the moment by the Reverend Patrick -Geogehagen, a famous character of the country, better known as “Patsy.” -Patsy was a brawny, bright-eyed wrestler for the Lord, with -cherry-colored cheeks, and a spreading black beard that saved him the -trouble of wearing a necktie. It was his self-imposed duty to visit and -minister to those tribes of Indians who were too poor, too disreputable -or too far away to attract the attention of the regular missionaries. - -When they hailed him he was cleaning his gun at the door of the single -log shack that served both for store and dwelling at Pinnacle House, and -there was nothing in his rough dress to indicate his calling. When he -introduced himself, Conacher looked at Loseis with a quick, smiling -question and Loseis answered it with a quick, smiling assent. Conacher -whispered shamefacedly to Patsy, who thereupon gave him a frightful clap -on the back, and roared: - -“Delighted, my boy!” - -Conacher took Langmuir aside. The chief wagged his head in perplexity; -and scratched it, and grumbled: - -“What the deuce, Conny! Such a thing was never heard of in a party -engaged on field work! What will it look like in my report? Oh, Lord! -think of the explanations I will be called on to make to all the old -women in the Department!” - -“Why should it appear in the report?” said Conacher. “It’s none of the -Government’s business. Have I been any the worse worker during the past -month?” - -“No, no! you’ve worked like two! . . . Hm! that’s so. Why should it -appear? . . . Go ahead, my boy; and God bless you! I bags to give the -bride away.” - -As a matter of fact, it _did not_ appear. The report of Langmuir’s party -is filed away with many others equally decorous, and nobody in the -Government ever suspected that they entertained a Princess during the -summer and celebrated a wedding. - -There were no wedding garments in the outfit but a great shaving, -shearing, washing and brushing-up took place. The fellows decorated the -single room of the cabin with spruce branches and flowers from the -mountain side. Loseis had to be married in breeches and boots because it -was all she had. At least her clothes were neatly mended by this time. -Her smile was the smile of a happy bride; and nobody was aware of any -incongruity. Conacher looked as frightened as every well-disposed man is -supposed to be at his wedding; and large fat tears rolled down the -bridesmaid’s dark cheeks. Up to the moment of donning his vestments -Patsy joked outrageously; he then became the priest of God. In a free -and natural state of society these abrupt contrasts are perfectly well -understood. Nobody thought the less of Patsy because he was a man as -well as a priest. - -Patsy and Mary-Lou conspired together to produce the wedding-feast; and -the result, considering the meager resources of Pinnacle House, -astonished everybody. They may have been short of the fixings, but they -had five kinds of game and fish; and to polish off with, a gigantic -roly-poly pudding stuffed with currant jam. - -The speeches were no better nor worse than usual. Patsy said in part: - -“Sure, friends, I shall look back on this as one of the happiest days of -me life! This morning I was not aware that you people as much as -existed; this afternoon you are established as the friends of me heart, -and shall never be absent from me heart while it beats. Even parsons get -discouraged sometimes, though none of ’em would ever admit it but a -renegade like me. This mornin’ I was sittin’ at the door of this house -trying to make up my mind whether to visit the scrofulous Louchoux -Indians to the northeast, or the flea-bitten Sikannis to the southeast, -and feelin’ ready to consign ’em both to perdition. Sure, in all the -world there is not such another lousy, thieving, crack-brained, -worthless congregation as me own, I was telling meself, when along you -came with this lovely girl to remind me of the existence of beauty in -the world, and this bold lad to refresh me with the sight of manliness! -Would I marry them? says he, blushing. Would I marry them? I was ready -to throw my cap in the air at such a chance! That is jam in the life of -a forgotten missionary. I consider that in joining these two I have -performed the best act of me life. The country ought to profit by it. -Here’s to the newly married pair! May they live long and obey the -scriptural injunction!” - -To which Conacher answered: - -“. . . Er . . . you fellows and the Reverend Patsy . . . I rise to say -. . . er . . . that is, to thank you . . . I’m not much of a speaker -. . .” - -“No?” queried a sarcastic voice. - -“That’s all right, Jordan. You can laugh. I’ll live to see you married -yet. . . . Where was I? . . . I only wanted to say, only you interrupt -me all the time . . . er . . . to thank you on behalf of Miss Blackburn -. . .” - -Uproarious laughter drowned him out. - -“What’s the matter with you all! . . . Oh, I see. I mean the lady beside -me, m-m-m-my w-w-w-wife. The late Miss Blackburn . . .” - -Renewed laughter. - -“Oh, to hell with you!” said Conacher plumping down in his seat -laughing. “If any man thinks he can make a better speech let’s hear it!” - -Next morning they resumed their work on the river. For two weeks longer -they toiled up through or around the innumerable rapids, canyons, -whirlpools, and waterfalls of the upper Sinclair, before they finally -arrived at the little lake in which it took its source. - -Here Langmuir gave Conacher leave to press on ahead while the party -cleaned up its work for the season. So Conacher, Loseis and Mary-Lou -crossed a famous pass and descending the mountain on the other side, -plunged all at once into the civilization which Loseis had never seen. -Everything in the busy little coast town was strange to her; the close -ranks of shops and houses; locomotives; automobiles; electric light and -water from a tap. The Princess was too aristocratic in spirit to betray -vulgar amazement; she merely looked and listened quietly. Not until she -was alone with her husband did she reveal the wonder and astonishment of -her childish heart. For the man it was a wonderful experience to -introduce so fresh and ardent a soul to the great world. - -There was a short voyage by sea; then the return eastward by railroad -over the mountains to the city of Prince George. - -In Prince George they had no difficulty in finding John Gruber, who when -he was not running Blackburn’s outfit into the country, or bringing out -his furs, ran a stable in town, and bought and sold horses. They found -him in his little office, a tall, strong man with a heavy, honest red -face, and a bald red poll surrounded by a fringe of red hair. Gruber had -not visited Blackburn’s Post since Loseis was a child; and he did not -immediately recognize her. - -“I am Laurentia Blackburn,” she said. - -“What!” cried Gruber, staring. “Why . . . of course you are! . . . Well, -I’m damned!” - -“That’s what everybody says!” said Loseis with a rueful smile. - -“Where did you come from?” demanded Gruber. - -Loseis started to tell her story, but Gruber instantly silenced her. -“Wait! Wait!” he cried. “We must do everything regular and proper!” -Snatching up his hat, he hustled them through the streets to a tall -office building. Here after ascending in an elevator (a fresh marvel to -Loseis) they burst unceremoniously into the private office of a little, -round, white-haired old gentleman, startling him almost out of his wits. - -“Here is Blackburn’s daughter!” shouted Gruber. - -“God bless my soul!” cried the old gentleman, agitatedly removing his -glasses. “What proof have you of that?” - -“I’ve got the proof of my own eyes!” - -“Quietly! Quietly!” pleaded the old soul. “Sit down all. Let us proceed -in due order if you please.” - -It turned out that this was Hector Blackburn’s lawyer, David Chichester. -In simple graphic sentences, Loseis told the two men her story, while -they glanced at each other in astonishment, and murmured in indignation -and sympathy. - -When she had come to the end, Mr. Chichester said gravely: “We all felt -that there was something that needed to be explained; but we had nothing -to go on.” - -“You have later news than mine,” said Loseis eagerly; “Mr. Gruber has -been into the country and out again. What has happened?” - -The two men looked at each other again. Gruber said: “Show her the -newspaper, Mr. Chichester. That tells the whole story.” - -From a drawer of his desk, Mr. Chichester produced a copy of the local -newspaper now some weeks old, folded in such a manner as to bring into -prominence the story that he desired them to read. They were instantly -aware of the staring headlines: - - ROMANTIC TRAGEDY OF THE NORTH - - Young Couple End All for Love - -Loseis and Conacher read with their heads close together: - -“John Gruber, the well-known horse-dealer and traveler of Prince George, -returned yesterday from his annual trip into northern Athabasca bringing -news of a strange and poignant tragedy at Blackburn’s Post, a distant -trading station in the unexplored portion of the province. - -“For many years Mr. Gruber has acted as agent for Hector Blackburn, the -last of the powerful free traders, who maintained an almost baronial -state in the midst of his vast domain. Each year it has been Mr. -Gruber’s custom to take in the year’s supplies for the Post. At a point -about half way he would meet the outfit sent out by Hector Blackburn and -exchange the store goods for the season’s catch of furs. This year Mr. -Gruber waited in vain at the rendezvous. After several weeks had passed, -a rumor reached him that Hector Blackburn had been killed by an accident -early in June. He then pushed through the rest of the way to Blackburn’s -Post. - -“He found Mr. Andrew Gault of Fort Good Hope, one of the best-known fur -traders in the country, in charge there. Mr. Gault was well-nigh -prostrated by a terrible happening which had taken place only two or -three days before Mr. Gruber’s arrival. Laurentia Blackburn, the late -trader’s only child, had killed herself by leaping from a high cliff -into the river, in company with her lover, a young man named Paul -Conacher attached to the Geological Survey. - -“It was on June third that Hector Blackburn was killed by a fall from -his horse. His death left his daughter, a young girl, entirely alone and -unprotected in that savage spot. There were no other white persons at -Blackburn’s Post. Moreover it was surrounded by a tribe of ignorant -Indians who began to get out of hand as soon as the firm control of -Hector Blackburn was removed. Mr. Gault, hearing of these things, -immediately rode to the girl’s assistance from his Post one hundred and -fifty miles away. - -“At first the girl evinced nothing but gratitude at his coming. She -freely put all her affairs into Mr. Gault’s experienced hands, giving -him a power of attorney to transact the necessary business. Mr. Gault -sent out for Hector Blackburn’s attorney who is the well-known lawyer, -Mr. David Chichester, of this city; but this letter unluckily was lost -somewhere on the long journey. - -“A few days later the young man, Conacher, turned up at Blackburn’s -Post. He too had heard of Blackburn’s death, and was attracted by the -rich prize offered in his only child and heiress. A handsome young man, -of good address, his conquest of the inexperienced girl was all too -easy. Conacher wished to get her business into his own hands, and so -worked upon her mind with base insinuations that she turned against her -best friend, Mr. Gault. - -“Mr. Gault meanwhile, as was clearly his duty, was preparing to send out -the season’s fur to Mr. Gruber. By every means in his power, Conacher -sought to prevent this. He was finally guilty of the murder of an Indian -named Etzooah, a messenger of Mr. Gault’s, under circumstances of -peculiar atrocity. The Indian was garroted as he rode through the woods, -by a line stretched across the trail by Conacher. It then became Mr. -Gault’s duty to apprehend the young man and send him out to justice. But -the infatuated girl sheltered him in her own house; and standing at the -door with a gun, dared Mr. Gault to come and take him. - -“Mr. Gault sent out for the police; and in the meantime contented -himself with watching the house to prevent the murderer’s escape. His -messenger, taking a different route, passed Mr. Gruber on the way in; -and as a matter of fact the police arrived two days after Gruber. But -everything was over then. On the third night Conacher and the girl -escaped from the house, and obtaining possession of a dug-out, fled -across the river. Closely pursued by Mr. Gault, they sought a refuge on -top of a high cut-bank opposite the Post. When their pursuers closed in -on them, seeing capture, disgrace and separation ahead, they joined -hands and with a weird good-by ringing through the night, leaped over -the edge of the gravelly cliff and were drowned in the river below. -Though Mr. Gault searched for the bodies for many days, they were not -found. - -“The police conducted an investigation into the sad circumstances. As a -result, Sergeant Ferrie in charge of the detail expressed himself as -satisfied that Mr. Gault had done all that any man could do in such an -inexpressibly distressing situation. Mr. Gault remains in charge of the -Post until such time as the Courts may issue letters of administration. -No heirs are known.” - -Conacher and Loseis looked at each other in amazement. - -“By Heaven! what an infernally clever story!” cried Conacher. “I am not -surprised that even the police were taken in.” - -“God brought us through all our dangers especially so that we could show -this man up!” said Loseis. - -“We must decide on a course of action,” said Mr. Chichester fussily. - -“There can be but one course for my husband and me,” said Loseis -quickly. “We will start back for our Post to-morrow.” - -“Naturally,” said Conacher. - -The other two looked a little flabbergasted at this instant decision. - -“The season is growing late,” objected Gruber. “Light snows have already -fallen. Ice will be running in the rivers by the time you get there.” - -“But the trip _can_ be made!” said Loseis. - -“Oh, yes, it can be made.” - -“Then we’ll make it.” - -“One moment,” said Mr. Chichester dryly. “I suppose you know that you -have other property beside the fur business.” - -“Have I?” said Loseis. - -He handed her a sort of statement from amongst his papers. Loseis looked -at it, and shook her head. - -“I don’t understand it,” she said, passing it to Conacher. - -As he studied it, Conacher’s face paled. “Good God!” he muttered. -“According to this you are worth over a million dollars. . . . Oh, after -what they have said about me, this is terrible!” - -“You’ll have to make the best of it!” said Mr. Chichester with a dry -twinkle. - -Loseis showed a face of quaint distress. “My dear Paul,” she murmured, -“I’m so sorry! So sorry! I didn’t know anything about it. It wasn’t my -fault, was it!” - - * * * * * - -Gruber, who headed the party, breathed with relief when he led them -through a pass in the hills down to the edge of the wide meadows -surrounding Blackburn’s Lake. October had come in; and during their long -ride across the prairie they had met with more than one snow-storm. -Fortunately for them the snow had melted; had it remained lying on the -prairie, or had they experienced one of the early blizzards that are not -unknown at this season, their position would have been serious. Now, -with the shelter of the timber at hand, they were safe. - -The party was well outfitted of course; but even so, what with the snow, -the hard frosts at night and the raw, biting winds by day, traveling had -been intensely disagreeable. They carried a small tent for the two -women. Gruber had three hot-heads in his company who could not brook the -slightest delay. Besides Loseis and Conacher there was young Sergeant -Ferrie of the Mounted Police who was no less eager than the other two to -bring down retribution on the head of Andrew Gault. The policeman’s -professional pride had been wounded. With three troopers he had joined -the party at the Crossing. Mary-Lou was also of the party; and six Cree -half-breeds from Miwasa Landing. They had upwards of twenty horses. - -They slept for the last time on the same little point of high land -running out into the meadows, where Conacher had been surprised by -Etzooah four months before. The days were growing short now. About -eleven o’clock next morning they were riding past the Slavi village on -the opposite side of the river. The inhabitants lined up to watch them -pass, in silent consternation. Even at the distance they could not have -failed to recognize Loseis and the famous yellow head of Conacher. - -“Some of them could jump in a canoe and get to the Post with the aid of -the current before we could,” suggested Conacher. - -“They have no love for Gault,” said Loseis. “There is no reason why they -should warn them. The Slavis never look for trouble.” - -“Even if he should be warned, he’s got nowhere to run except back to his -own Post,” Gruber pointed out. “And there he’d only run into the arms of -the other party of police who went down the big river.” - -“Just the same,” said Sergeant Ferrie, frowning, “I’ve no intention of -letting any other party take him. He belongs to me!” - -They urged their weary horses on a little faster. - -Suspecting that Gault might make a dash for freedom at the sight of -them, Ferrie determined to send a party across country to head him off -on the other trail. Two of the white troopers and two Crees were -allotted to this duty. They turned off on the same ridge a mile from the -Post that Gault had used. In order to give them time to reach their -post, the rest of the party halted for their midday meal in the hollow -beyond. - -When they started out again, Ferrie took command. He wished Loseis and -Mary-Lou to remain in that spot with a guard; but Loseis would not hear -of it. Much to her disgust she was forced to bring up the rear of the -train. As they came in sight of the Post the men’s faces were grim. It -had a deserted look. Gault had never succeeded in persuading the Slavis -to return, and the grassy meadow below the buildings, yellow now, was -empty. When they cantered up into the little square within the -buildings, that was empty too: Women’s House, store, warehouses, -Blackburn’s House; doors closed and chimneys cold. The bars of the -corral were down. - -The men paused to consult. Presently the sound of approaching hoofs was -heard; and the four men sent across country rode into the square, -driving before them four mounted Indians, who were immediately -recognizable as belonging to Gault; one of them indeed was Watusk, whom -Loseis and Conacher had good cause to remember. He was brought up to -Sergeant Ferrie. - -“Where is Gault?” demanded the policeman. - -“We leave him here, half hour ago,” answered Watusk sullenly. “He tell -us to go home.” - -“Told you to go home!” said Ferrie, astonished. - -“He know you are coming,” Watusk went on impassively. “This man -Hooliam,” pointing to one of his companions, “was at the Slavi village -to see a girl when you ride past. He jomp in a canoe and paddle fas’ to -tell Gault that Blackburn’s daughter and Yellowhead are not dead. They -are comin’ back with four red-coats.” - -“What did Gault say to that?” Ferrie asked with a hard smile. - -“He jus’ smile,” said Watusk. “He look on the groun’ and tap his leg -with his little whip. Bam-bye he say: ‘All right, boys. Get your horses -and ride home. I will wait here for them.’ And we go.” - -“Then he’s still here!” cried Ferrie. - -Watusk pointed to Blackburn’s house. - -“Gault! Come out!” cried Ferrie in a strong voice. - -There was no answer. - -Ferrie tried the door of the house, and found it barred on the inside. -He signified to his men that they were to fetch one of the heavy poles -from the corral. Using it as a battering-ram, after two or three blows, -the door burst in. Ferrie and Conacher entered the house together. - -They found Gault sitting upright in the kitchen in one of Blackburn’s -carved chairs. For one dreadful instant they thought that he was -laughing at them; in the next they perceived that he was dead. His -wide-open eyes were bereft of all sense; his lower jaw was hanging down -in a dreadful, idiotic grimace. Yet he sat as straight in the -high-backed chair as in life. It was only upon looking closer that they -discovered that the man with a strange, last impulse of vanity had tied -himself into the chair, that he might be discovered facing his enemies -in an upright position. There was a band of canvas around his chest! and -another around his forehead; the broad-brimmed Stetson was jammed -rakishly down on his head over the band. He had then shot himself -through the heart with a revolver, which had slipped from his hand to -the floor. - -The young men jerked their hats off; and their grim faces softened a -little. - -“Well, he’s paid,” said Conacher. “We can’t feel any more hard feelings -against him!” - -“It’s better so,” said Ferrie. “Nobody would want this ugly case -advertised by a trial.” - -Such was Andrew Gault’s requiem. - -They returned outside the house, hat in hand, and all the others knew at -a glance what they had found. - -If Gault in his strange preparations for death had hoped to leave upon -Loseis a last impression of his power, his aim was not realized. She -betrayed no wish to look at him again. Loseis’ verdict was more merciful -than the young men’s. - -“So he is dead!” she murmured, clinging to Conacher’s arm. “He _would_ -kill himself, of course. . . . Poor fellow! He had never known love when -he was young. When he was old love mocked him, and it drove him -mad. . . . Ah! how lucky _we_ are, my dearest dear!” - -They returned to the house across the way where they had known such -dreadful days and nights. But the spell of dread was lifted now. Their -breasts were calm and free. - - THE END - - TRANSCRIBER NOTES - - Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where - multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed. - - Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer - errors occur. - - There are two occasions where a word appears to be missing in - the original printed book. These places have been marked with a - comment. - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BACKWOODS PRINCESS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |