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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77231 ***
+
+
+
+
+  The Trail of
+  The Golden Horn
+
+  H. A. CODY
+
+
+
+
+By H. A. CODY
+
+  THE TRAIL OF THE GOLDEN HORN
+  THE KING’S ARROW
+  JESS OF THE REBEL TRAIL
+  GLEN OF THE HIGH NORTH
+  THE TOUCH OF ABNER
+  THE UNKNOWN WRESTLER
+  UNDER SEALED ORDERS
+  IF ANY MAN SIN
+  THE CHIEF OF THE RANGES
+  THE FOURTH WATCH
+  THE LONG PATROL
+  ROD OF THE LONE PATROL
+  THE FRONTIERSMAN
+
+
+
+
+  THE TRAIL OF
+  THE GOLDEN HORN
+
+  BY
+  H. A. CODY
+
+  McCLELLAND AND STEWART
+  PUBLISHERS : : TORONTO
+
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT, 1923,
+
+  BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  THE TRAIL OF THE GOLDEN HORN. III
+
+  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                        PAGE
+
+   1 The Smokeless Cabin            9
+
+   2 A Night Vision                17
+
+   3 The _Tell-tale_ Lock          27
+
+   4 To be Continued               37
+
+   5 Face to Face                  47
+
+   6 Zell                          57
+
+   7 Terrors of the Night          67
+
+   8 Hugo to the Rescue            76
+
+   9 Stains on the Snow            84
+
+  10 Lost                          92
+
+  11 Where Strength Counts         99
+
+  12 Confession                   109
+
+  13 The Rush of Doom             118
+
+  14 Life for Life                126
+
+  15 The Truce of the Storm       136
+
+  16 The Man of The Gap           145
+
+  17 The Trapper Arrives          155
+
+  18 A Cowardly Deed              166
+
+  19 Anxious Waiting              176
+
+  20 United Forces                186
+
+  21 Helping Hands                194
+
+  22 The Messenger                206
+
+  23 Rejected                     213
+
+  24 The Wages of Sin             221
+
+  25 Maintien le Droit            229
+
+  26 The Night Struggle           241
+
+  27 An Unfolded Record           251
+
+  28 Waiting                      261
+
+  29 Good News                    270
+
+  30 His Message of Farewell      279
+
+  31 Plans                        287
+
+
+
+
+The Trail of the Golden Horn
+
+
+
+
+THE TRAIL OF THE GOLDEN HORN
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+The Smokeless Cabin
+
+
+“No Smoke!”
+
+Hugo, the trapper, rasped forth these words upon the stinging air as he
+paused abruptly upon the brow of a steep hill. He was puzzled, and he
+rubbed the frost from his eyelids with his mittened right hand. Perhaps
+he had not seen aright. But no, he had not been mistaken. There, close
+to the river, stood the little cabin, nestling amidst a grove of young
+firs and jack-pines. But no smoke poured from the pipe stuck up through
+the roof.
+
+“Strange! strange!” Hugo muttered. “There should be smoke. Bill Haines
+hasn’t moved overnight, that’s certain. Something must be wrong.”
+
+His eyes swept the landscape to right and left. Everywhere stretched
+the vast wilderness of glistening snow, dark forests, and towering
+mountains. That long white streak, winding like a serpent, was the
+river, now frozen from bank to bank. From a few open places where the
+current was exceptionally swift vapour rose like dense clouds of smoke.
+Near one of these stood the cabin, for running water was a luxury in
+the Yukon when winter gripped the land in its icy embrace.
+
+Hugo hated the river, and always kept as far away as possible. To him
+it was a treacherous demon, and the great dark breathing-places seemed
+like yawning mouths ever open for new victims. That curling vapour
+appeared more sinister now than ever. He glanced again at the lonely
+cabin. Why was there no smoke rising above its squat roof? Had Bill
+Haines slipped while drawing water? Such a thing was not unlikely. But
+what about his wife? Surely she would keep the fire burning for the
+sake of herself and child. But had she gone, too, in attempting to
+rescue her husband?
+
+For a few minutes Hugo stood there, his great form drawn to its full
+height. His long beard, covered with frost, swept his breast. His keen
+eyes peered out from beneath the big fur cap drawn well down over
+ears and forehead. He resembled a patriarch of Hebrew days who had
+stepped suddenly out upon one of nature’s mighty stages. The dark,
+sombre trees formed a fitting background to the lonely figure, while
+the valley below and the limitless region beyond made a magnificent
+audience-chamber. But none witnessed the silent form upon the hill
+save, perhaps, a few shy, furry creatures of the wild, and ghosts of
+miners, prospectors, trappers and Indians, who once roamed the land and
+made the Yukon River their chief highway of travel.
+
+Hugo, however, thought nothing of all this. His mind was agitated by
+conflicting thoughts. He longed to be off and away upon the trail,
+headed for the log abode of which he alone knew. But that smokeless
+cabin down by the river fascinated him.
+
+“It’s none of my business,” he growled. “Bill Haines is nothing to me,
+so why should I worry about him? And yet, I wonder--”
+
+He ceased abruptly, unslung a rope from his right shoulder, and
+turned swiftly around. At his heels lay the small toboggan he had
+been drawing, loaded with a couple of blankets, food, rifle, and a
+large lynx he had taken from one of his snares. He looked at these
+thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then reached for his rifle. This he
+carefully examined to be sure that the magazine was full. Picking up
+the dropped rope, he threw it again over his shoulder, and with rifle
+in hand, he sped rapidly down to the valley below. The long narrow
+snow-shoes creaked beneath his powerful strides, and the light snow
+flew from their curved points like spray from a cutter’s bow.
+
+Reaching the forest, he threaded his way among the trees and came out
+at length into the open space where stood the cabin. Here he stopped
+and looked carefully around. Seeing nothing, he once more advanced, and
+only slowed down when within a few yards from the building. He walked
+warily now, listening intently for any sound from within. Hearing
+nothing, he was about to place his ear close to the door when the faint
+wail of a child arrested his attention. Presently the cry subsided to a
+fretful whimper, and then all was still.
+
+Feeling certain now that something was seriously wrong, Hugo glanced
+cautiously around. The snow near the cabin was beaten down hard, and
+a well-worn trail led to the river. He looked off to the place where
+the vapour was rising into the air, and shuddered. Why he did so he
+could not tell. Then he lifted the rude latch, pushed open the door
+and entered. The sun shining in through the window on the south side
+of the building brightened the room. Hugo recalled the last time he
+had been there, and the pleasant welcome he had received. How clean
+and cosy the place was then, notwithstanding the meagre furniture and
+the bare floor. But now what a change! Everything was in disorder, the
+table overturned, the few rough, homemade chairs battered to pieces,
+and broken dishes lying on all sides. What did it mean? He stared
+around, greatly puzzled.
+
+“Mam-ma! Mam-ma!”
+
+The call came from a corner on the right. Turning quickly toward a bunk
+against the wall, Hugo saw the movement of a gray four-point blanket.
+Stepping forward, he stooped and beheld the face of a little child,
+its cheeks wet with tears. Big blue eyes looked expectantly up, and
+two small dimpled hands reached eagerly out, while a gurgle of delight
+rippled from soft, rosy lips. Instantly it realized its mistake.
+An expression of fear leaped into its eyes, the outstretched hands
+dropped, and the happy gurgle gave place to a cry of fright. Hugo was
+in despair.
+
+“Queer mess I’ve got into,” he muttered. “What am I to do with the kid?
+Pity it hadn’t gone with its parents. I wonder what has happened to
+them, anyway?”
+
+He looked around and noted more carefully the sad havoc which had
+been wrought. He was sure now that a terrible tragedy had been
+enacted there, either during the night or early that morning. Again
+he shuddered, and realized for the first time how cold was the room.
+In a few minutes he had a good fire burning in the sheet-iron heater,
+which fortunately had escaped destruction. Then he searched for some
+suitable food for the child. But not a scrap could he find--every
+morsel had been taken from the house. Hugo uttered an angry oath
+and registered a solemn vow. Going outside he was about to draw his
+toboggan into the room when his eyes caught sight of peculiar marks
+upon the beaten snow. That they were blood-stains he was certain, and
+there were others on the trail leading to the river.
+
+Leaving the toboggan, and forgetting for a time the sobbing child,
+Hugo walked slowly along, keeping his eyes fixed upon the narrow
+path. At every step more stains appeared, which increased in number
+and vividness as he neared the shore. Out upon the ice he moved, and
+stopped only when close to the long, wide, yawning gulf. Here the river
+was exposed to view like a great artery from which the flesh has been
+torn. The water raced by like a mill-sluice, leaping forth from beneath
+its icy covering upstream to dash out of sight with a swish and a swirl
+half a mile or more farther down. Its murmur resembled the snarl of an
+angry beast when suddenly surprised or cheated of its prey. And yet
+Hugo felt certain that but a short time before it had been fed, when
+two victims had been enwrapped in its cold, merciless embrace. And one
+of them was a woman, whose little helpless child was now calling to her
+from the lonely cabin--and calling in vain!
+
+And standing there, Hugo’s soul suddenly became charged with an intense
+anger. Mingled with his hatred of the river was an overwhelming
+revulsion at the foul crime which had been committed. And who were
+the perpetrators? What reason could anyone have for committing such a
+diabolical deed? Haines and his wife were quiet reserved people, given
+to hospitality, who never refused a meal or a lodging for the night to
+a passing traveller. During the summer Bill had rocked out gold from
+the river bars, and in winter had cut wood for steamers plying between
+Whitehorse and Dawson. That he made but a bare living Hugo was well
+aware, and he had often wondered why he was content to remain in such a
+lonely place.
+
+Hugo turned these things over in his mind as he walked slowly away from
+the river. Reaching the cabin, he drew his toboggan into the building.
+The fire had been doing good work and the room was warm. The child,
+unable to cry more, was lying uncovered upon the blankets. It watched
+Hugo’s every movement with wide, unblinking eyes.
+
+“Don’t be afraid, little chap,” the man said. “I won’t hurt you. I’m
+going to give you something to eat. Maybe that will make you friendly.
+I wonder how old it is, anyway,” he mused. “It can’t eat meat, that’s
+certain. Liquids and soft food are the only thing for babies. Now, what
+in time can I give it! Ah, I know. Just the thing.”
+
+He turned and walked over to the toboggan. Throwing aside the blankets,
+he lifted a tin can, blackened from numerous campfires. This he placed
+upon the stove, removed the cover and looked in.
+
+“Ptarmigan soup should be good for the little fellow,” he remarked.
+“It’s mighty lucky I didn’t eat it all for breakfast. My! it’s hot
+here.”
+
+He raised his hand as if to remove his fur cap, but suddenly desisted.
+Then he stepped outside and looked carefully around. Seeing no one, he
+went back into the cabin, took off his cap, and hung it upon one of
+the legs of the overturned table. The head thus exposed was covered
+with a wealth of hair, thickly streaked with gray. The startling and
+outstanding feature, however, was one lock as white as snow, crowning
+the right temple. This was not due to age nor to any outward cause, but
+was evidently a family characteristic. Such a lock would have singled
+out the owner in any gathering for special and curious attention.
+
+When the soup was warm enough, Hugo dipped out a portion into a tin cup
+which he carried over to where the child was lying.
+
+“Come, little chap,” he began, “here’s something nice.”
+
+Forced by hunger the lad scrambled quickly to its knees, and drank
+eagerly from the cup held to its lips.
+
+“More,” he demanded when the last drop had been drained.
+
+“Ho, ho, that’s good!” Hugo chuckled, as he went back to the stove and
+dipped out another helping. “There’s nothing like ptarmigan soup for an
+appetizer. I guess, my little man, you’re older than I thought.”
+
+When the child had been fed to its satisfaction, Hugo sat down upon
+the edge of the bunk and gave himself up to serious thoughts. What was
+he to do with the boy? That was the question which agitated his mind.
+He could not keep him, that was certain. He must hand him over to
+someone who knew more about children than he did. But where could he
+take him? To whom could he turn for assistance? Swift Stream was out of
+the question. Besides being too far away it was the last place where
+he wanted to go. But what about Kynox? He did not want to go there,
+either. But it was nearer than Swift Stream, and less dangerous. Yes,
+it must be Kynox, and the sooner he got there the better.
+
+He was staring straight before him as he thus made up his mind. His
+eyes were fixed upon the rough whip-sawn planks which formed the floor.
+But he did not see anything in particular there. His thoughts were
+far away, so the cabin and all that it contained were for the time
+forgotten.
+
+At length he became partially aware of a peculiar glitter upon the
+floor. The sun shining through the little window struck for a few
+minutes upon the spot where his eyes were resting. Gradually his
+interest became aroused. Something was there which caused that intense
+sparkle. Perhaps it was only a portion of a broken dish which had
+caught the sun’s ray. But, no, it could not be. A piece of ordinary
+cup, saucer, or plate could not throw such a wonderful light. It was a
+sparkle such as he had once seen flashing from a jewelled finger of a
+woman of great wealth. He had never beheld the like since until now.
+Only one thing he knew could produce such a radiant effect.
+
+Slipping from the bunk, he stepped quickly forward, dropped upon his
+knees, and peered keenly down. What he saw there caused him to reach
+swiftly out, seize and draw forth something wedged in a narrow crack
+between two of the floor planks. As he clutched this with the fingers
+of his trembling right hand, an exclamation of surprise burst from his
+lips.
+
+It was a woman’s diamond ring!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+A Night Vision
+
+
+For several minutes Hugo knelt there holding the ring in his right
+hand. It was a delicate circlet, a fragile wisp of gold to contain such
+an exquisite gem. What fair finger had it adorned? What eyes, looking
+down upon it, had rivalled its sparkling beauty? What comely cheeks had
+flushed in the joy of its possession? He felt sure that Mrs. Haines
+had not worn it. What use would such an ornament have been to her in
+that rude cabin? At any rate, he had never seen it upon her finger. Her
+hands, he had noted, were rough and toil-worn. But had she once worn
+it? Was it a precious keepsake, a memento of other and happier days?
+Had it in any way figured in the terrible tragedy which had so recently
+taken place? Why was it wedged in the crack between those two planks?
+Why had it not been broken and crushed in the terrible struggle that
+had ensued?
+
+These were some of the thoughts which surged through Hugo’s mind as he
+stared hard at the ring. The value of the diamond he did not know. That
+it was no ordinary stone he felt certain. How it gleamed and sparkled
+as he held it to the sun. He turned it over and over in his fingers. He
+was gradually becoming its slave. Its beauty was fascinating him; its
+radiance was dazzling him.
+
+A sound from the bunk startled him. He glanced quickly and guiltily
+around like one caught in a criminal deed. But it was only the child,
+chuckling as it tried to grasp a narrow beam of sunshine which fell
+athwart the blankets. With lightning rapidity Hugo thrust the ring
+into an inside pocket of his jacket and sprang to his feet. He stepped
+swiftly to the side of the bunk and glared down upon the child. Then a
+harsh, mirthless laugh burst from his lips. The perspiration stood out
+in beads upon his forehead.
+
+“Hugo, you’re a fool,” he growled. “What has come over you, anyway? No
+more such nonsense.”
+
+He went to the door, opened it and looked out. The air cooled his hot
+brow. He felt better, and more like himself. He was anxious now to
+get away from that cabin. It was not good for him to be there--with
+the ring and the child. The place was polluted. Innocent blood had
+been shed in that room, and who could tell what might happen should he
+stay much longer? He had always scoffed at the idea of ghosts. But he
+did not wish to remain in that building overnight. He had a peculiar
+creeping sensation whenever he thought of it. He was not afraid of
+travellers who might call in passing. But he did have great respect
+for the Mounted Police, the redoubtable guardians of the north, the
+sleuth-hounds of the trails. Should they suddenly appear, he might find
+the situation most embarrassing. Alone with the child, and with the
+marks of a tragedy so evident, he might have difficulty in convincing
+them of his innocency in the affair. And should the ring be discovered
+upon his person, his position would be far from enviable.
+
+Hugo’s greatest fear, however, was of himself. He could not explain
+the reason, but so long as he remained in that cabin he could not feel
+responsible for his acts. A subtle influence seemed to pervade the
+place which exerted upon him a magic effect. He had never experienced
+the like before. He must get away at once. Out upon the trail, battling
+against stern nature, he would surely regain his former self-mastery.
+
+Hugo was not long in getting ready for his departure. He wrapped up the
+baby in a big fur-lined coat he found hanging on the wall. He hesitated
+when he realised that it was necessary to cast aside the lynx to make
+room for the lad upon the small toboggan. The pelt of the animal was
+valuable, but he could not afford to take the time to remove it. In
+fact, the lynx was of more use to him than the child. One he could sell
+for good money, while the other--well, he would be fortunate if he
+could give him away.
+
+He thought of this as he tucked in the wee fellow, placing extra
+blankets about him to make sure that he would not be cold. According
+to the law of the country he was entitled to all the rights and
+privileges of the British Constitution. To take his life would be an
+indictable offense, and the punishment death if found out. But he could
+not be sold for money, and who would want him? Outside, someone might
+adopt him, or he could be placed in an Orphans’ Home. But here on
+the frontier of civilisation who would wish to be bothered with such
+a helpless waif? The life of the lynx, on the other hand, was worth
+nothing in the eyes of the law. Any one could take it with impunity.
+But the animal could be sold for a fair price. What a paradox! A dead
+lynx worth more than a priceless child!
+
+Hugo sighed as he picked up his rifle and drew the cord of the toboggan
+over his shoulder. It was a problem too profound for him to solve.
+Others would have to attend to that, if they so desired, while he
+looked after the baby. Closing the cabin door, and turning his back
+upon the river, he headed for the uplands. Although he had no watch,
+yet he knew that it was past midday. The afternoon would be all too
+short, so he must make the most of it. Kynox was over thirty miles
+away, and a hard trail lay between. Under ordinary circumstances he
+could make the journey by a long day’s march. But now he would be
+forced to travel slower and more carefully, and to halt at times to
+feed the child.
+
+Hugo made his way along the trail down which he had sped a few hours
+before. Reaching the brow of the hill, he paused and looked back upon
+the cabin. It had a new meaning to him now. How grim and desolate it
+seemed. It was a building stained with human blood. Never again would
+it breathe forth its warm and inviting welcome to weary travellers.
+Soon word of the tragedy would be noised abroad. It would pass from man
+to man. In towns and villages, in miners’ shacks, in Indian lodges, in
+wood-cutters’ cabins, and in most remote recesses it would penetrate,
+to be discussed with burning indignation and heart-thrilling interest.
+The Mounted Police would arouse to swift and terrible action. They
+would throw out their nets; they would scour the trails; they would
+compass the world, if necessary, to bring the criminals to justice.
+They had done it before; they would do it again. No one yet had escaped
+their long and overwhelming grip.
+
+And what of the little cabin? It would be shunned, looked upon with
+dread, a haunted abode. Oh, yes, Hugo was well aware how it would be.
+He knew of several such places scattered over the country, once the
+centres of life and activity, but now abandoned by the foot of man,
+white and Indian alike.
+
+As he stood and rested, thinking of these things, something upon the
+river attracted his attention. At first it appeared as a mere speck,
+but it was moving. With breathless interest he strained his eyes
+across the snowy waste. He knew what it was--a dog-team! Was it the
+Police patrol? He shrank instinctively back, and unconsciously raised
+his right hand as if to ward off some impending danger. A low growl,
+almost like a curse, rumbled in his throat, as he turned and once more
+continued his journey.
+
+His course now led inland, and in a few minutes the river was lost to
+view. The trail for a time wound through a forest of young firs and
+jack-pines, whose slender branches reached out like welcoming hands. He
+felt at home here and breathed more freely. Then the way sloped to a
+valley, and up a long wild meadow.
+
+It was a magnificent region through which he was travelling. To the
+right rose great mountains, terrace above terrace, and terminating
+in majestic summits far beyond the timber-line. These, however, were
+surpassed by one towering peak far away in the distance. For years it
+had been his special guide. Others might be lost to view, but not the
+Golden Horn. It formed the subject of considerable speculation among
+miners, prospectors, and trappers. Its summit had never been reached.
+But daring adventurers who had scaled beyond the timber-line, solemnly
+affirmed that it was the real Mount Ararat. Embedded in everlasting
+snow and ice they had seen the timbers of a vessel of huge size and
+marvellous design, which they declared to be the ruins of Noah’s ark.
+
+Others believed that in that massive pile would be found a great
+mother-lode of precious gold. Its commanding peak, which from certain
+points of view resembled a gigantic horn, caught and reflected the
+brief winter sun in a glow of golden glory. To eager eyes and hopeful
+hearts this was surely an outward sign of vast treasures within. But so
+far it had only served as a landmark, a gleaming guide to hardy rovers
+of the trails.
+
+With the Golden Horn ever before him, Hugo pressed steadily onward. At
+times he glanced anxiously back, especially after he had crossed a lake
+or a wild meadow where the view of the trail was unobstructed. Seeing
+no one following, he always breathed a sigh of relief, and hurried on
+his way.
+
+Darkness had already settled over the land when Hugo drew up at a
+little shack crouching in a dense thicket of firs and pines. This was
+one of his stopping-places in the large circle of his trapping region.
+The single room contained a bunk, a sheet-iron heater, a rough table, a
+block of wood for a seat, and a few traps. This abode was far from the
+main line of travel, and no head but the owner’s had ever bent to pass
+its low portal.
+
+Hugo paid careful attention to the child, looking after its welfare
+to the best of his knowledge. It had been remarkably good during the
+afternoon, and before it fell asleep upon the bunk it showed its
+friendliness to its rescuer by chuckling gleefully, holding out its
+hands, and kicking its feet in a lively manner.
+
+For the first time in years Hugo’s stern face relaxed. His eyes,
+hard and defiant, assumed a softer expression. All unconsciously the
+helpless child was exerting upon him a subtle influence; it was casting
+about him a magic spell, and breathing into the coldness of his heart a
+warm, stimulating glow.
+
+And when the little lad at length slept, Hugo sat by its side, gazing
+straight before him, silent and unseeing. Occasionally he aroused to
+replenish the fire, to snuff the single candle, to open the door to
+peer into the night, and to listen for sounds which did not come. He
+would then return to the bunk, to continue his watch and meditation.
+
+About midnight he wrapped himself up in a thick blanket, stretched
+himself upon the floor near the heater, and in a few minutes was fast
+asleep. He awoke with a start, and sat bolt upright. He looked toward
+the bunk, and something there held him spellbound. The child, gently
+whimpering, was surrounded by a soft, peculiar light such as he had
+never seen before. Hugo wondered at this, for the candle was out and it
+was not yet daylight. As he stared, striving to comprehend the meaning,
+he saw the dim form of a woman bending tenderly over the child, her
+hands touching the little face. An involuntary gasp of surprise escaped
+his lips, and he rubbed his eyes to be sure that he was not dreaming.
+When he looked again all was in darkness. The vision had disappeared.
+
+Rising quickly to his feet, Hugo struck a match and lighted the candle.
+His hands trembled as he did so, and his knees seemed unusually weak.
+He glanced furtively around the room as if expecting to see someone
+standing near. Then he went to the bunk and looked down upon the child.
+It was asleep! This was a surprise, for Hugo was certain that he had
+heard its whimper but a couple of minutes before. What did it all
+mean? Was it a dream from which he had been suddenly aroused: or had
+the mother really been bending over her child, and for a few fleeting
+seconds was revealed to mortal eyes? He had heard of such apparitions,
+but had always considered them as mere delusions, the fanciful
+imagination of overwrought brains. Now, however, it was different. He
+had seen with his own eyes that form bending over the bunk, surrounded
+by a halo of no earthly light. Was it the child’s mother? But perhaps
+it was an angel! At once there flashed into his mind the words of the
+Master over which he had often meditated.
+
+“Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones, for I say unto
+you that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father
+which is in heaven.”
+
+Little children, then, had angel guardians, so, perhaps, he had
+unwittingly surprised one this night in its ministry of love. Hugo was
+deeply impressed. A feeling such as he had not known for years stole
+into his heart. The room seemed suddenly transfigured. It was no longer
+a humble abode, but the dwelling-place of a celestial messenger. And
+the child was the cause of it all. For its sake the courts of heaven
+had been stirred, and swifter than light an angel had winged its way
+to that lone shack in the heart of the northern wilderness. It may
+have been hovering around that cabin near the river at the time of
+the tragedy. What part had it taken in protecting the child? It was
+wonderful, and Hugo’s heart beat fast as these thoughts swept through
+his mind. Had the angel guided his steps to that smokeless cabin? He
+recalled how he had been on the point of taking another route that
+morning, but had suddenly changed his mind and gone to the river
+instead. Why he did so he could not tell, as he had never done the like
+before. But now he understood. It was the angel which had altered his
+course!
+
+Hugo’s mind dwelt continually upon this as he stirred up the fire and
+prepared his breakfast. He made the tea exceptionally strong to soothe
+his nerves. After he had eaten his meagre meal, he filled and lighted
+his pipe. He then smoked and watched as the slow-footed hours dragged
+wearily by. He was anxious to be away upon his journey, but he did not
+wish to awaken the child.
+
+Once he thrust his right hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and
+brought forth the ring. The diamond still fascinated him, though not as
+formerly. He was master of himself now, and could examine the precious
+gem more calmly. Its possession gave him a thrill of pleasure, even
+though he knew that it was not his. What would he do with it? An idea
+flashed into his mind, which caused him to glance toward the child.
+
+“No, not now,” he mused. “I must wait. It might get into wrong hands.”
+
+This decision seemed to satisfy him, so he replaced the ring, and
+continued his watch.
+
+The dawn of a new day was stealing slowly over the land as Hugo resumed
+his journey. At noon he halted to feed the child, and to eat his own
+meal. Then up and on again through the short afternoon. He thought much
+of what had occurred during the night, and the vision he had beheld
+inspired him. His step was firmer and more decided than on the previous
+day. The coldness did not seem so intense, and the Golden Horn appeared
+to take on a brighter glow. When darkness enshrouded the land he again
+halted to feed the baby. This took but a short time, and once more he
+sped forward. Kynox was not far away, and he wished to make it that
+night.
+
+Hour after hour he moved onward, though slower now, for the trail
+was heavy and he was becoming very weary. No longer did the Golden
+Horn direct his course. But he had the north star to guide him. The
+Northern Lights were throwing out their long glittering streamers. They
+appeared like vast battalions marching and countermarching across the
+Arctic sky. Their banners rose, faded, vanished; to reappear, writhing,
+twisting, curling, and flashing forth in matchless beauty all the
+colors of the rainbow. Yellow and green, green and yellow, ruby-red and
+greenish-white, chasing one another, vying with one another as the
+great, silent army incessantly retreated and advanced.
+
+Hugo saw all this, and it never failed to arouse in him a feeling of
+wonder and awe. He watched the stars, too. For years they had been
+his steady companions on many a weary trail, and he read them like an
+open book. He saw the belted Orion swinging in its usual place, and
+the Great Bear dipping close to the horizon. He knew the time by the
+figures on that vast dial overhead. He peered keenly forward now, and
+at length he was rewarded by several faint lights glimmering through
+the darkness. Kynox was just beyond. In a few minutes the outlines of
+a number of buildings could be dimly discerned. These increased in
+clearness as he advanced. Ere long one larger than the others loomed up
+before him. He knew it well, and toward it he eagerly made his way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+The Tell-Tale Lock
+
+
+The hour of midnight had just struck as Marion Brisbane opened a side
+door of the Kynox Hospital and entered. Her cheeks were flushed, and
+her eyes shone with animation. It was her night off duty, and she had
+enjoyed herself at Mrs. Beck’s, the wife of the mining recorder. A
+few congenial friends had been invited, and most of the evening had
+been spent at bridge-whist. While refreshments were being served, Miss
+Risteen, the new teacher of the little school, had asked Marion why she
+had come so far north.
+
+“For adventure, I suppose,” had been the smiling and evasive reply.
+
+“Have you found it?”
+
+“Oh, yes.”
+
+“What! in a small hospital?”
+
+“Certainly. It is there that we see so much of the tragedy of this
+country. Numerous trails lead into Kynox from various mining camps. You
+have no idea how many patients we receive during the year, though now
+we have only a few.”
+
+“But I mean adventure in the open,” Miss Risteen had explained.
+
+“Not much yet. But I have gone several times to outlying creeks to
+administer first-aid to injured men during the doctor’s absence. He
+has been away for a week now, so I never know when an urgent call may
+come.”
+
+“Do you always go yourself?”
+
+“Yes, always.”
+
+Marion had then abruptly changed the subject, as she did not wish to be
+questioned further. Her friends had more than once remonstrated with
+her about her readiness and eagerness to go whenever a call came. They
+had urged her to let the other nurses bear their share of the hardships
+which such trips involved. But Marion had merely smiled, saying that
+she was selfish and enjoyed going to the camps. Not even to her nearest
+friends would she reveal the deep secret of her heart.
+
+That which gave her the greatest pleasure, however, was a letter which
+Mr. Beck had handed to her during the evening. It had been given to
+him by a miner that afternoon who had come in from the outer trails to
+record a claim. At the first glance Marion knew whom it was from, and
+it was this which caused the flush upon her face and the light of joy
+in her eyes as she entered the hospital. She was anxious to reach her
+own room where she could read the letter to her heart’s content.
+
+She had just closed and locked the door, when the night nurses appeared.
+
+“Oh, Miss Brisbane,” the latter began, “we have had a lively time since
+you left.”
+
+“Nothing wrong, Miss Wade, I hope,” Marion somewhat anxiously replied.
+
+“That remains to be seen. About ten o’clock an old man, with a great
+flowing beard, brought in a little child.”
+
+“Sick?”
+
+“No, nothing the matter with it.”
+
+“Why did he bring it here, then?”
+
+“For us to keep. He has given it to us.”
+
+“Given it to us!” Marion stared at the nurse in surprise.
+
+“That is what he said,” and Miss Wade smiled. “Why, he made himself at
+home here, and took possession at once.”
+
+“Do you mean to tell me that he is here now?” Marion demanded.
+
+“He certainly is, and with all of his belongings. He has taken up his
+abode in the kitchen, and is asleep on the floor, wrapped up in his
+blankets. He has his toboggan there, too. Just think of that!”
+
+“But why didn’t you send him away?”
+
+“He wouldn’t go. I told him we couldn’t keep him; that this was a
+hospital, and not a hotel. But it didn’t make any difference. He said
+that this was good enough for him.”
+
+“What impudence! Why didn’t you send for me? Mr. Beck and the other men
+would have come over and put the man out.”
+
+“Oh, I didn’t want to bother you. And besides, he seemed so harmless.
+He just wanted the kitchen, so I couldn’t very well object.”
+
+“Where is the baby?” Marion asked.
+
+“Asleep in my room. I gave it a bath, which it certainly needed, and
+something to eat. He is a dear little fellow, and I am fond of him
+already.”
+
+“Who is the man, anyway? Did he tell you anything about himself, or
+where he came from?”
+
+“He only said that he found the child in a cabin along the river about
+a mile from the C. D. Cut-Off. He would tell me nothing more.”
+
+“Then the baby is not his,” Marion said. “It is strange that he should
+bring it here. I wonder why he didn’t take it to Swift Stream.”
+
+“I asked him that,” Miss Wade replied, “but he told me he wasn’t
+travelling that way. He is certainly an odd man, a giant in stature,
+and with wonderful eyes which seem to look right through one. He kept
+his cap on all the time, pulled down over his ears, even though the
+kitchen was very warm. I believe he went to sleep with it on. Suppose
+you have a look at him.”
+
+“Very well,” Marion agreed. “I am somewhat anxious to see our strange
+guest.”
+
+Together they passed out of the room into the hallway, and made their
+way to the door leading into the kitchen. This was closed, but Miss
+Wade softly opened it and peeked in.
+
+“There he is,” she whispered. “He’s sound asleep.”
+
+A lamp, partly turned down, emitted sufficient light for Marion to see
+the covered form lying upon the floor, with the toboggan nearby.
+
+“He’s got his cap on, all right,” Miss Wade again whispered,
+suppressing with difficulty a giggle of amusement. “Isn’t it funny? He
+must use it for a night-cap.”
+
+Marion motioned her to be silent, as she closed the door and led the
+way back along the hallway. She, too, saw the humor of the situation,
+although as matron she had to maintain the dignity of her position.
+
+After she had taken a look at the baby which was sleeping soundly, she
+went to her own room. Here she opened the letter she had been carrying
+in her hand, and ran her eyes rapidly over the contents.
+
+“Dear Miss Brisbane,” it began.
+
+“I am on my way to Lone Creek to bring in Scotty Ferguson, who met
+with an accident. Please have a room ready for him. Constable Rolfe is
+with me. We should reach Kynox at the end of this week. I am sending
+this note by Joe Dart, who is going to town to record a claim.
+
+                         “Hoping to see you soon,
+                                       “Very sincerely yours,
+                                                      “JOHN NORTH,
+                                               “_Sergeant, R. N. M. P._”
+
+That was all the letter contained in mere words, yet to Marion it meant
+a great deal more. She saw the writer, the strong, manly sergeant, who
+had made such a deep impression upon her. She recalled the last time he
+had been at Kynox when he had brought in a sick miner from an outlying
+creek. She had heard much about John North, the great trailsman and
+the fearless defender of law and order. Many were the tales told of
+his prowess to which Marion always listened with keen interest and a
+quickening of the heart. To her he was the very embodiment of the ideal
+hero, and one with King Arthur’s Knights of the Table Round. He was
+ever moving from place to place, bringing relief to the afflicted and
+redressing human wrongs. What a difference between this man and many
+of the men she had met. He was not in the country for gain, but in the
+noble service of his King and country. Her mind suddenly turned to the
+strange, long-bearded man asleep on the kitchen floor. What a contrast
+between him and John North. Who was he? she wondered, and where had he
+found the child? She thought, too, of his oddity in wearing his cap all
+the time. Was there some reason for this? Did it cover some scar or
+other disfigurement?
+
+As she asked herself these questions, an idea flashed into her mind
+which caused the blood to fade from her cheeks and her hands to
+tremble. She tried to banish the notion as she replaced the letter into
+its envelope and laid it upon a small table by her bed. But the idea
+would persist in returning until she could no longer resist its appeal.
+
+For the space of a half-hour she debated with herself as to what she
+should do. Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning before
+seeing the man again. This, however, did not satisfy her. Several times
+she started to open the door, but each time drew back, uncertain and
+agitated. She was no coward, yet the thought of what might be revealed
+unnerved her. Nevertheless, she knew that the ordeal must be faced
+sooner or later. For that she had come north, and with one object in
+view she had visited numerous creeks and mining camps. But never before
+had such a nameless dread overwhelmed her. She had searched eagerly,
+and hopefully, studying with the closest scrutiny the one face which
+would reward all her efforts.
+
+At length feeling that she could delay no longer, she left her room,
+and sped along the hallway. She felt guilty, almost like a thief, as
+she pushed open the kitchen door and looked in. The man was evidently
+sound asleep, for he was lying in the same position as when she first
+saw him. Creeping close to his side, she stooped and listened. Yes,
+he was asleep and breathing heavily. Reaching swiftly out, she lifted
+the peak of his cap, and at once the white lock of hair was exposed to
+view. Marion had seen enough. She turned and fled out of the kitchen,
+along the hall, and back to the shelter of her room. Here she stood,
+wide-eyed and panting like a hunted creature. She had reached the end
+of her quest. That for which she had been seeking she had found. But
+what a bitter disappointment! How she had looked forward to such a
+moment. It had arrived, passed, and she was left helpless, bewildered.
+
+Sinking down upon the only chair the room contained, she endeavored to
+compose her mind that she might view the affair in as clear a light
+as possible. That the man lying in the kitchen was her father she had
+not the slightest doubt. That white lock of hair betrayed him, if
+nothing else. It was a family characteristic, and she alone of several
+generations had escaped the distinctive mark. How proud the Brisbanes
+had always been of their peculiar feature, and when no trace of it
+appeared in Marion’s luxuriant hair they had been greatly disappointed.
+The “Brisbane lock” was a common expression. It had its origin, so it
+was believed, in a great battle. A Brisbane in defending his King had
+received a sword cut on his forehead which left a gaping wound. When
+this healed, instead of an unsightly scar, the hair came out as white
+as snow. For years after that lock was a sign of royal favor, and a
+white lock formed the important feature of the family coat-of-arms.
+“Remember the Brisbane lock,” parents had admonished their children
+through many generations. It had always been to them a standard, a sign
+of almost divine favor. They had tried to live up to the ideal set by
+their worthy ancestor on the field of battle. Through all the years
+only one Brisbane had brought reproach upon the name and the lock. And
+that man had fled from home and justice, a wretched outcast.
+
+Marion was but a girl of twelve at that time, and she loved her father
+with all the ardor of her passionate nature. Nothing could make her
+believe the charge of forgery which was preferred against him. There
+had been some mistake, she was certain, and he had been basely wronged.
+Some day he would be proven innocent, the guilty ones exposed, and the
+Brisbane name cleared of infamy. Her mother believed the same, and
+thus through the years the two waited in patient hope. But they waited
+in vain. The exile did not return, so his deed remained a part of the
+history of the little town, and a blot upon the family escutcheon.
+
+Ten years passed and no word from the absent one reached the mother
+and daughter. They knew, however, that he must be alive, for regularly
+twice a year money reached them through a local bank. It was a
+liberal amount, deposited to their credit, although the circumstances
+surrounding it were not divulged. But they were certain who sent it,
+and it was a steady reminder to them that he was in the land of the
+living and might one day return. Mrs. Brisbane cherished this hope
+until the last, and ere she died she expressed the wish that Marion
+should search diligently for her father. This the girl willingly agreed
+to do, for the idea had been lodging in her own mind for some time.
+
+In order to carry out her design, Marion became a nurse. The west
+called to her, for she firmly believed that there her father had
+gone. After practising for two years in a city on the Pacific coast,
+she responded to an appeal from the far north. The new hospital at
+Kynox was in need of nurses, and she was at once placed in charge. It
+was a position of considerable responsibility, but she fulfilled her
+duties in a highly creditable manner. Her charming disposition, and
+her readiness to sacrifice herself for others, won all hearts. Old
+miners and prospectors, especially, appealed to her, for she was always
+hopeful that among them she would find her father. How eagerly her eyes
+searched every new face she met, and sought for the tell-tale lock. Men
+noted this earnest look, and often commented upon it among themselves.
+To them Nurse Marion was an angel of mercy, and even the roughest among
+them always spoke of her with the greatest respect.
+
+Marion enjoyed her work and life in the northland. But never for a
+moment did she lose sight of her great quest. At times she almost
+despaired of ever finding her father. It was a vast land, and she was
+able to meet but a few of the miners and prospectors. How could she
+ever find the one for whom she was so eagerly seeking?
+
+The image that Marion had kept in her mind of her father was a
+beautiful one. She remembered him as a man of fine appearance, of more
+than ordinary stature, with a strong, noble face. How proud she had
+always, been when walking by his side, for then Thomas Brisbane was the
+leading citizen of Garthroy. She expected to find him the same years
+later. She was, therefore, totally unprepared to see her father in the
+long-bearded, and unkempt creature, content with the kitchen floor for
+his bed. What would her two assistant nurses think should she divulge
+the secret? And the people of Kynox--for there was a social clique even
+in this wilderness town--what would they say?
+
+Hour after hour Marion battled with her doubts and fears. The night
+seemed unbearably long, and yet she dreaded for morning to come.
+Something then would have to be done. Should she let her father go
+without telling him who she was? And if she did tell, how would he
+receive the news? Would he rejoice in meeting his daughter again? or
+would he flee from her presence? Her brain was in a whirl, and she
+walked up and down her little room, torn by conflicting emotions.
+
+Toward morning a desire came to her to go to her father and speak
+to him. If there should be an embarrassing scene it would be better
+to be with him alone than to have other nurses around. Her courage
+almost failed her as she left her room and hurried once more along the
+hallway. She was glad that the night nurse was nowhere in sight, as
+she did not wish to meet her just then. Reaching the kitchen door, she
+pushed it open and looked in. She started and glanced around the room.
+There was no one there. Her father was gone!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+To Be Continued
+
+
+For two days Marion Brisbane lived in a world of doubt and uncertainty.
+She was in a quandary. She had found her father, only to lose him
+again. Should she go in search of him? But where would she go? How
+could she find him? To whom could she turn for advice and help? How
+could she explain the reason of her search without telling who the man
+really was? And this she did not wish to do, for the present, at least.
+This problem agitated her mind as she went mechanically about her work.
+The child had been taken by a man and his wife who had no children of
+their own, and were strongly drawn to the little waif of the night.
+
+When the story of the old man’s visit to the hospital and his sudden
+disappearance leaked out, it caused much comment in Kynox. Several
+surmised that it was Hugo, the wanderer of the trails, the peculiar
+trapper about whom they had heard much, although few had ever seen him.
+From the earliest days mystery has always delighted the human mind.
+Strange characters, noted for their peculiar ways, and endowed with
+great strength, have ever made special appeal. They give a spice, a
+thrill to life, and remove some of its monotonous drabness. No race, no
+age, has ever lacked some mysterious being about whom many legendary
+tales gather. This was true in a way of Hugo, the trapper. Where
+he had come from no one knew. He had no settled abode, being in one
+place to-day and miles away on the morrow. He had been known to appear
+suddenly at some mining camp with an injured prospector and vanish
+again into the wilderness. He was as elusive as a shadow, and just as
+intangible. He was terrible in a fight, so it was asserted, and he was
+the only creature of which the grizzlies, the dread of the trails,
+were afraid. His latest act in bringing in the little child stirred up
+afresh the numerous stories concerning his mysterious life.
+
+Marion had heard some of these tales before, but had taken no special
+interest in them until now. She had concluded that the trapper was
+some great uncouth creature, half man and half beast by nature, who
+had lived most of his life in the wilderness. But never for an instant
+had he meant anything to her. That such a being could be the one for
+whom she was so anxiously seeking was beyond the bounds of her wildest
+imagination. Now she knew, and she listened with fast-beating heart to
+every scrap of information concerning the trapper. She concealed her
+feelings as much as possible, although when alone in her own room she
+would pace excitedly to and fro, her mind rent by wild, conflicting
+emotions. That she must see him again was the burden of her thoughts.
+To find him she had come north, and she must not give up until she had
+accomplished her purpose.
+
+The second evening after Hugo’s arrival a startling story drifted into
+Kynox from Swift Stream. It told of the murder of Bill Haines, his
+wife, and little child near the C. D. Cut-Off. Two miners on their way
+down river had stopped at the cabin, found signs of a fierce struggle,
+and marks of blood leading to the river. They had reported the affair
+to the Mounted Police at the first station they reached, so the news
+was at once flashed to headquarters at Swift Stream, over the single
+wire running from Ashcroft to Dawson.
+
+This was most disturbing news to the people of Kynox, and their
+thoughts naturally turned to the little child which had been brought to
+the hospital by Hugo, the trapper. Did the latter know anything about
+the murder? they asked one another. What was he doing with the child?
+and why had he left so mysteriously in the night? It was very strange
+and suspicious, they reasoned, that he had reported nothing, and had
+given no word of explanation. It was surely the Haines’ child he had
+brought to Kynox, so he must know something about the terrible affair
+near the Cut-Off.
+
+Marion was now more disturbed than ever. Outwardly she was very calm
+as she answered the numerous questions about the night visitors. She
+merely related what the night nurse had told her, and made no mention
+of her own first secret visit to the kitchen. She was determined not to
+divulge that. But fearful thoughts would persist in forcing themselves
+into her mind. Had her father committed that terrible deed? Anyway, if
+he knew anything about it why had he not reported at once? Her father
+a murderer! The idea was almost unbearable. She could not believe it.
+No Brisbane would ever descend to such depths. But her father would
+be suspected. The Police would hear about his visit to the hospital
+with the child, and of his sudden departure in the night. They would
+track him, find him, and bring him to trial. Would he be able to clear
+himself? to prove that he was innocent?
+
+Marion thought of all this and a great deal more during the rest of
+the week. She found it difficult to sleep, for she would awake in
+the middle of the night overwhelmed with a presentiment of impending
+disaster. Saturday came, and also Sergeant John North. He and Rolfe
+brought the injured miner to the hospital, and when the constable
+had left, North remained. Marion thought that he had never looked so
+handsome as when he stood before her that afternoon, clad just as he
+had come from the trail. He was a noble specimen of a man, well-built,
+and over six feet in height. His face, bronzed and weather-beaten, was
+strong, and his mouth and chin firm. His face was smooth-shaven, for
+Sergeant North was careful of his personal appearance, particularly so
+whenever he visited Kynox. His eyes, grey and steady, were never known
+to flinch from danger. When they glowed with anger or indignation, as
+they did on special occasions, their owner was a man to be feared. But
+now they shone with a tender expression as they rested upon Marion
+Brisbane’s slightly flushed face.
+
+Sergeant North was a reserved man, and little accustomed to the company
+of women. Years on the frontiers of civilization had brought him into
+contact with many stern realities of life. Surrounded by the ruggedness
+and the grandeur of nature in every possible form, he had gradually
+and unconsciously become moulded by its mystic influence. The ways of
+polite society were to him a closed book, and the petty social chatter
+made no appeal. He loved the open, the great spaces, and the winding
+trails. The iron of the land had entered into his being, and the
+silent, mysterious alchemy of the north affected his soul like magic.
+Combined with all these subtle influences was the law of the Force he
+served. It was Duty first and last. “Maintien le Droit” was the motto
+of this wonderful body of men, and the code written in the little red
+manual was stern and stripped of all useless verbiage. It told without
+a shadow of a doubt what was expected, and the instructions were to be
+followed to the letter. This suited Sergeant North. He loved the life,
+and never once had he swerved one hair’s breadth from the strict line
+of duty.
+
+His was not an impressionable nature, and he was always shy in the
+presence of women. But when Marion Brisbane crossed his path it was
+altogether different. She inspired him with confidence, his shyness
+vanished, and he could talk freely. Out upon the trails a vision of
+her was ever before him, and he always counted the days until he could
+see her again. So standing before her this afternoon in the hospital,
+he feasted his soul upon her face, lips, eyes, and hair. He did not
+want to talk; it was heaven enough to be near her, and to revel in
+her beauty. Whatever Sergeant North did it was with his whole might.
+He threw himself unreservedly into every undertaking. He was a hard
+trailsman, a stern fighter, when fighting was necessary, and now for
+the first time in his life he was a great lover.
+
+Marion’s eyes dropped beneath North’s ardent gaze, and she became
+somewhat embarrassed. Neither spoke, and for a few seconds intense
+silence reigned. Then they both smiled and the tension was broken.
+
+“Forgive me for keeping you standing,” Marion apologized. “It is very
+stupid of me. Come in here,” and she opened a door on her right.
+
+“I have not long to stay,” North explained, as he followed her into the
+little sitting-room, and seated himself in a comfortable chair which
+Marion offered. “There is very serious business ahead. You know to what
+I refer.”
+
+“You mean the murder near the C. D. Cut-Off, I suppose,” Marion replied
+as she seated herself near the window. “I have heard of it.”
+
+“And you had a visit from Hugo, the trapper, I understand.”
+
+“Oh, yes. He brought a little child here one night.”
+
+“Where is the child now?”
+
+“With Mr. and Mrs. Parker. They have taken it as their own, and are
+very fond of it.”
+
+Sergeant North gazed thoughtfully out of the window for a few seconds.
+He was really looking at the peak of the Golden Horn far away in the
+distance, although he saw it not. His mind was upon more important
+things.
+
+“Are you certain that it was Hugo, the trapper, who brought that child
+here?” he asked.
+
+“No, I am not,” Marion emphatically replied, “but it is the general
+opinion in Kynox that he is the man.”
+
+“Did he wear his cap while he was in the hospital?”
+
+“Yes, even when he was asleep on the kitchen floor.”
+
+“Then it was Hugo, all right; I never saw him without his cap.”
+
+“Why does he always wear it?”
+
+“I do not know.”
+
+Marion’s hands were clasped upon her lap, and although her eyes were
+downcast she knew that the sergeant was looking intently upon her face.
+The next instant he had reached out and caught both of her hands in
+his. With a slight cry of surprise, Marion tried to free her hands, but
+the sergeant held them firm.
+
+“Don’t, don’t,” she gasped as she struggled to her feet. “You must not
+do that; it isn’t right.”
+
+“Love makes it right,” North replied, as he also rose. “Marion, I love
+you, and I want you to know it. I am a man of few words, and not used
+to love-making language. But I must tell you. I cannot restrain myself
+any longer.”
+
+He ceased, drew her to him, and his lips met hers. No longer did Marion
+contend, for a happiness such as she had never known swept over her.
+She felt North’s strong arms about her, holding her close. Neither
+spoke. It was enough that they were together, so words were unnecessary.
+
+Gently at length Marion freed herself from her lover’s embrace, and
+stood before him with flaming cheeks.
+
+“I never imagined that you loved me so much,” she murmured. “It seems
+like a wonderful dream.”
+
+“It is no dream,” North assured, “it is the glorious reality. I was
+afraid that you didn’t love me, but I had to tell you to-day, for I
+might not see you again for some time.”
+
+“What! are you going away?”
+
+“Yes, in a short time, just as soon as the dogs get rested a little.
+There is serious work ahead, and I must not delay.”
+
+“In connection with the murder?”
+
+“Yes. Hugo is the man I want. He is either the murderer, or he has
+information which I need. But he is a nasty man to face, and there may
+be trouble.”
+
+“Oh! do you think so?” The color faded somewhat from Marion’s cheeks.
+She had to think of two now. How terrible it would be if her father and
+her lover should meet in a deadly encounter! She longed to tell North
+of the discovery she had made. If he knew that Hugo was her father,
+would he let him escape for her sake? But how could she tell him? What
+would he think of her for trying to divert him from the strict line of
+duty which she understood he had always followed?
+
+These thoughts flashed through her mind with lightning rapidity as
+she stood there. North noted the troubled expression in her eyes, and
+attributed it to her interest on his behalf.
+
+“You must not worry about me,” he told her. “I am well able to take
+care of myself.”
+
+“But I am thinking about the trapper,” Marion truthfully explained. “I
+do not believe that he is the murderer. Why should he have brought that
+little child here if he had murdered its parents? Would he not have
+killed it, too, and fled to the wilderness? Have you thought of that?”
+
+“Indeed I have,” was the emphatic reply, “and it is that which puzzles
+me. But Hugo is a strange character, and always does just the opposite
+from what one would expect. He may have brought the child here in order
+to deceive us.”
+
+“But no one would have suspected him,” Marion insisted. “He could have
+murdered the parents and child and thrown their bodies into the river.
+What reason did he have for saving the child and bringing it here?
+Would you have suspected him of the deed?”
+
+“Not at first, perhaps, but eventually we would have suspected him. It
+is utterly impossible for any man to escape in a country such as this.
+So far, every criminal has been brought to justice, no matter to what
+part of the world he fled. But, there, let us forget Hugo at present.
+I shall have enough of him before long. It is of you alone I want to
+think, Marion. Your love means more to me than anything else. And you
+do love me, don’t you? The assurance from your lips will send me forth
+upon my quest with renewed energy. I shall hasten the task, knowing
+that the sooner it is accomplished, the sooner I shall return to you.”
+
+The sergeant was about to reach out his arms once more to draw Marion
+toward him, when a step along the hallway caused him to hesitate. He
+retreated a couple of steps, and thus the two were standing facing each
+other in a most formal manner as a nurse appeared at the door.
+
+“Excuse me, Miss Brisbane,” she began, “but a man has just arrived from
+Big Chance for the doctor. A miner has been seriously injured, and
+needs medical aid.”
+
+“Where is the man who brought the news?” Marion questioned, now all
+attention.
+
+“He has gone to look after his dogs,” was the reply. “I told him the
+doctor was away, but that we are expecting him back soon. He asked if
+one of the nurses could go, as the case is very urgent. He said that
+he could not take his own dogs out again, as they are almost exhausted
+with travelling day and night. I wonder what can be done.”
+
+“I must get a team and go at once,” Marion emphatically declared. “I
+have gone before, so can do it again. Tell Miss Wade to prepare my
+outfit, as she knows what I shall need. I know where I can get a good
+team of dogs, so shall look after that myself.”
+
+When the nurse had gone, Marion turned to the sergeant. Her eyes shone
+with animation and her face expressed determination.
+
+“You will have to excuse me,” she simply said. “‘Duty first’ is the
+law here as well as in the Force. I must get ready at once.”
+
+“Suppose you travel with me,” North suggested. “I am bound for Big
+Chance, and nothing on earth would please me better than to have you
+along. I shall order Rolfe to have the dogs ready in an hour’s time.
+They are a great team, and can make the trip faster than any dogs you
+can get in Kynox. I am sure we shall enjoy the run together. Rolfe,
+too, will be delighted to have a woman along. He will regale you with
+poetry of which his head is full. He is an excellent fellow, for all
+that, and as true as steel.”
+
+“I think it will be splendid to go with you,” Marion emphatically
+replied. “It will not take me long to get ready. As for poetry, Mr.
+Rolfe can quote to his heart’s content. I shall enjoy it, I am sure.”
+
+“But what about the important matter we were discussing when the nurse
+arrived? I am hungry for your answer. You surely have it ready.”
+
+“Oh, that’s to be continued, like they say about a story,” Marion
+smilingly replied.
+
+“On the trail?”
+
+“Perhaps so.”
+
+“And the conclusion?”
+
+Marion paused as she was about to leave the room. Her thoughts flashed
+to the murder, and her suspected father. The troubled expression
+returned to her eyes as she turned them upon her lover’s face.
+
+“The conclusion can only come after several more chapters have been
+written,” she quietly replied. “All depends upon the nature of those
+chapters. You must be patient and wait.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+Face to Face
+
+
+A leaden sky and a wind increasing in intensity presaged a coming
+storm. It had been threatening since morning, and although Sergeant
+North knew that he could not outstrip it, yet he hoped to reach Big
+Chance before the trail became too heavy. The dogs were in fine
+trim, better than he had ever seen them. They seemed to realize the
+importance of the mission upon which they were bent, and the special
+need for haste. They sped along the narrow, winding trail, through
+forests, across inland lakes, up dreary stretches of wild meadows,
+and over desolate tracts, where trees withered by fire stood stark
+and bare. Pedro, a noble Malamute, long and lithe as a wolf, was the
+leader. Five of his companions were full-blooded huskies, of the
+Mackenzie River breed, surly and treacherous, but great workers. John,
+the wheel-dog, was the only mongrel, lazy, but of enduring strength
+and speed when forced by the stinging lash. For such a team of seven
+able and hardened brutes the load they drew retarded them but little.
+At times the sergeant, who guided the sled, and the constable, who
+followed after, found it all they could do to keep pace with the fleet
+animals.
+
+Seated upon the sled, and well wrapped in robes and blankets, Marion
+Brisbane thoroughly enjoyed the trip through the wilderness. Never
+before had she been drawn by such a noble team of dogs, and she never
+wearied watching them as they loped forward. Added to this, was the
+presence of the man who had avowed his love the day before. Although
+she could not see his face, she could feel his presence as he towered
+above her at his watchful task of directing the sled. His right hand
+held the whip, but only when the wheel-dog lagged would the lash split
+the air like a pistol shot. There was little chance for conversation.
+The lovers were happy, so words did not signify.
+
+They had made good progress the previous afternoon, and had reached
+the little road-house at the Forks, about twenty miles from Kynox,
+several hours after dark. Here they had spent the night, and were up
+and on their way early in the morning. From here to Big Chance the only
+stopping-place was a police patrol-house. This was free to prospectors,
+miners, and other travellers, with the distinct understanding that
+no damage was to be done, and if they were forced to use any of the
+provisions stored there they were to report it to the police as soon as
+possible. This was a strict law, and it was always obeyed to the letter.
+
+At first Sergeant North hoped to make Big Chance without stopping at
+the patrol-house. He could not afford the delay if they were to reach
+their destination that night. But when the storm came upon them just
+after they had eaten their frugal meal in the shelter of a little clump
+of trees, he was forced to give up the idea of gaining the mining camp
+that night. They would do well to reach the patrol-house.
+
+They were passing through a wooded region when the snow began to fall,
+and it dropped gently and harmlessly upon their bodies. The flakes
+were small, easily brushed aside, and in no wise interfered with their
+progress. But the roaring of the wind overhead and the swaying of the
+tree-tops told of the tempest that was raging outside.
+
+“Suppose we camp here,” Rolfe suggested. “It’s a nasty storm, and we’ll
+hit a bad trail ahead over the burnt land.”
+
+“But we can make it, all right,” North replied. “We don’t want to spend
+the afternoon and night here. We’re travelling light, remember, with
+very little grub for ourselves, and none for the dogs. There’s plenty
+at the patrol-house ahead, so we must make that. This storm may last
+for a couple of days.”
+
+Rolfe saw the wisdom of the sergeant’s words, and lapsed into silence
+as he plodded steadily on. Ere long the trail led out of the woods into
+the open on a small lake. Here the wind showed some of its force, and
+swirled the light snow about their forms. But it was only after they
+had passed through another grove of trees and reached the burnt land
+did they feel the full sweep of the storm. Here thousands of rampikes
+stood gaunt and naked. Among these the snow was driving like millions
+of lances of the great unseen legions of the northland. The dogs
+flinched and whined as the tempest struck them. Even North and Rolfe
+were compelled to turn their faces from the stinging fury of the icy
+darts, while Marion was forced to cover her head completely with the
+fur rug.
+
+“Can we make it?” Rolfe gaspingly asked. “This is terrible!”
+
+“We must,” North replied. “We can’t stay here, and we can’t go back.
+Get out the snow-shoes, for the trail’s already full.”
+
+With the snow-shoes donned, North spoke to the crouching dogs. But
+for the first time in their lives they refused to obey their master’s
+command.
+
+“Mush on,” the sergeant roared as the long lash snapped and sizzled
+around their ears and flanks.
+
+Howls of pain rent the air as the dogs struggled to their feet and
+strained at the traces. With bent heads and lolling tongues they moved
+slowly forward. It was Pedro who bore the main brunt of the storm, as
+he nosed his way onward. At length the wheel-dog lagged, surged back
+and dropped in his tracks. He refused to move, buried his nose in the
+snow and seemed to pay no heed to the whining lash. There was no time
+for delay, so he was unhitched, thrust rudely aside, and replaced by
+the dog ahead. Then on again they pressed, the snow becoming deeper,
+and the wind fiercer. Several times Marion begged to be allowed to
+walk. But North only laughed, reminding her that she had no snow-shoes.
+
+Even Pedro at length stopped, squatted in the snow, and turned
+appealing eyes upon his master’s face.
+
+“Played out, old boy?” North queried. “You’ve certainly done well.” He
+then turned to the constable. “Take my place, Rolfe, I’m going to help
+the dogs.”
+
+From the front of the sled he procured a rope, both ends of which he
+attached to Pedro’s harness. With the loop thus formed placed over his
+shoulders he went ahead, broke down the trail, making it easier for the
+team to follow. In this manner they were able to make better progress,
+and they were just in sight of thick woods beyond when the huskies
+dropped and refused to go a step farther. They, too, were cast adrift,
+and the sergeant and Pedro, assisted now by the constable, tried to
+draw the sled. They went but a short distance when they were forced to
+give up in despair.
+
+“It’s no use,” North panted, “we can’t make it. I guess you’ll have to
+walk, after all, Marion, unless you have wings. Rolfe, you go ahead
+and beat down the trail.”
+
+Marion was only too glad to be on her feet. She was cold and
+uncomfortable from her cramped position. The sergeant looked at her
+in admiration as she smilingly threw aside the robes and stepped upon
+the trail. The parka she was wearing could not conceal her sparkling
+eyes, animated face, and several tresses of dark-brown hair waving
+over cheeks and forehead. How he longed to pick her up in his arms and
+carry her to the house. He knew that he could do it, for she seemed so
+fragile as she stood there buffeted by the storm. Marion noticed his
+look, and surmised its meaning.
+
+“I am quite able to walk,” she said. “You have no idea how strong I am.”
+
+“I know you are, and, in a way, I am sorry. I would really like to
+carry you. I dare you to let me.”
+
+“Nonsense,” Marion chided. “I am going to show you what I can do.”
+
+“Very well, then,” the sergeant sighed, “follow on my heels, as
+Shakespeare says, and we shall soon reach the woods.”
+
+The trail thus beaten down by two pairs of snow-shoes was not hard to
+follow, and in a short time the heavy timber was reached. Here the
+wind could not touch them, and they both breathed more freely as they
+stopped to rest.
+
+“The patrol-house is only a few rods ahead,” North explained, “so we
+should be able to make it now without much trouble. Are you tired?”
+
+“Not much,” was the reply. “You won’t have to carry me, after all, will
+you?”
+
+“I am afraid not. But, hello! here’s Rolfe back again.”
+
+“I beat the way almost to the house,” the constable explained, “so I’m
+going after the dogs. I expect to have trouble.”
+
+“Do the best you can,” North replied, “and I shall hurry back to help
+you.”
+
+It did not take the sergeant and Marion long to come in sight of the
+patrol-house. It was a small building, situated a few yards from the
+trail. As they approached, they could see smoke issuing from the stove
+pipe stuck up through the roof.
+
+“Somebody’s ahead of us, I see,” North remarked. “The place will be
+warm at any rate.”
+
+In another minute they were at the door, which the sergeant at once
+unlatched and pushed open. They were accosted by the growl of a dog,
+but Marion paid little attention to the animal, for her eyes were fixed
+at once upon the man standing in the middle of the room. She knew
+him at once, and her heart almost stopped its beating. The sergeant,
+however, stepped forward as one who had a right to the place. If he
+recognized Hugo, the trapper, he gave no sign.
+
+“Bad storm,” he remarked. “I’m glad you’ve got a good fire. I hope you
+won’t mind visitors.”
+
+“Make yourself at home,” Hugo replied, mistaking him for a miner or a
+prospector. “All are welcome here.”
+
+The sergeant then turned to Marion and noted how she was staring at the
+trapper.
+
+“You stay here,” he said, “while I go and give a hand with the dogs. I
+won’t be any longer than I can help.”
+
+Turning, he passed out into the storm, and Marion was left alone with
+her father. He was watching her somewhat curiously, his cap pulled well
+down over his ears. The light from the little window in the south side
+of the building made it possible for her to see him quite plainly. What
+should she say? Did he have any idea who she was? Should she warn him
+of his danger? Would that be fair to North? And yet he was her father,
+even though he had deserted her and her mother for so long.
+
+And while she thus stood in doubt there came into her mind his loving
+care when she was but a child. How he had played with her, fondled her,
+and she had always looked forward to his coming home at night. It all
+rushed upon her now in a moment. Forgotten was everything else. What
+would her mother say if she did not stand by him in his time of need?
+
+And all the while Hugo was watching her. What was there in her face
+that caused that peculiar expression to appear in his eyes? Why did he
+at length step quickly forward and lay his right hand upon her arm?
+
+“Take off your hood,” he ordered in a voice filled with emotion.
+
+As Marion at once obeyed, he looked upon her tossed hair, and again
+studied her face most intently. He seemed like a man trying to recall
+something which he had long since forgotten. Marion noted this and her
+heart beat wildly. The pathetic expression upon his face moved her
+deeply. She could endure the strain no longer. Hugo had turned away,
+and was about to go over to the little stove.
+
+“Father! Father!” she cried, “don’t you know me? I am Marion, your own
+daughter.”
+
+With a roar the trapper wheeled and again faced the girl. The doubt was
+now gone from his face, and in its stead there was an expression of
+bewildered joy.
+
+“You my daughter?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. “You Marion Brisbane?”
+
+“Yes, I am,” was the faint response. “Didn’t you know me?”
+
+Hugo’s only reply was to reach out and gather her in his great arms.
+The tension of long years was broken. The man of iron, the terror of
+interferers, and the enigma of the trails was at last subdued. His head
+rested upon his daughter’s shoulder, while great sobs shook his mighty
+frame. At length he stepped back and held her at arm’s length.
+
+“Yes, I can see your mother’s looks,” he mused as if to himself. “I
+thought I couldn’t be mistaken. Tell me, is she alive?”
+
+“No, she has been dead for some time.”
+
+“Ah!” Hugo’s hands dropped, and he stood staring off into space. The
+past was sweeping upon him like a flood, and overwhelming him. He
+turned and sat down heavily upon a rough block of wood which served as
+a seat. With back bowed and head bent he remained very still. Marion
+went to his side and laid a hand upon his shoulder.
+
+“But you have me, father,” she began. “I have been searching for you a
+long time.”
+
+“You have!” Hugo looked at her in surprise. “How did you know me?”
+
+“By your white lock.”
+
+“When did you see that?”
+
+“At the hospital when you were asleep on the kitchen floor.”
+
+“But my cap was on.”
+
+“I know it was. But I crept in and lifted it.”
+
+“So you followed me here?”
+
+“Oh, no. I had no idea where you had gone. I am on my way to Big Chance
+to attend an injured miner. The storm caused us to take refuge here.”
+
+“Who is travelling with you?”
+
+“Sergeant North, and----”
+
+Before Marion could finish, Hugo was on his feet. The old expression
+of hate and fear had returned to his eyes, and in an instant he was
+completely transformed. With a bound he was across the room. In another
+instant he had seized his snow-shoes, rifle, and a bundle lying upon
+the floor. Then with a swift glance toward his daughter, he rushed to
+the door, tore it open, called to his dog, and plunged out into the
+storm.
+
+All this happened so quickly that Marion was amazed and dumbfounded.
+But when her father had left she hurried to the door and looked out.
+But no sign of him could she see. He had vanished in the forest and the
+storm. A terrible dread now swept upon her. Only one meaning could she
+take from her father’s peculiar action. He must be fleeing from the
+Police! But why unless he had committed some crime? She thought of the
+murder near the C. D. Cut-Off. Did her father commit that?
+
+Forgotten was the storm as she stood in the doorway, staring out among
+the trees. She thought nothing of the cold, neither did she notice the
+sergeant until he was but a few yards away.
+
+“Marion! Marion! what is the matter?” he asked in astonishment,
+noticing the strained look upon her face. “Has anything happened?”
+
+Marion gave a nervous laugh as she stepped back into the room, closely
+followed by the sergeant.
+
+“I am lonely, that’s all,” she evaded. “The man you left with me has
+gone.”
+
+“H’m that’s good,” North replied. “He didn’t like a woman around, I
+suppose. One comes across queer characters up here. Some of them have
+lived so long alone that they hardly know how to behave in the presence
+of a female. But, there, we need not worry about that fellow. If he
+doesn’t like your company, there’s someone else who does.” Stooping, he
+kissed her upon the lips. “There, little girl, you know who likes your
+company, so you needn’t be lonely any more.”
+
+Just then Rolfe was heard outside shouting to the dogs. Marion started
+and drew back, her face flushed a deep crimson.
+
+“Does he know?” she whispered.
+
+“Who? Rolfe?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Sure. Do you think I could keep the good news from him?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+Zell
+
+
+In a rude log shack in the little mining camp of Big Chance a young man
+lay on a rough bunk. By his side sat Marion Brisbane. She had done all
+in her power on his behalf, but she was fully aware that greater skill
+than she possessed was needed. Only a doctor could probe for the bullet
+which was lodged in his side. She felt her own helplessness as she sat
+there with the still form so near.
+
+Marion had several things to worry her this night. She thought of
+the journey from the patrol-house to the mining camp. She knew that
+Sergeant North loved her with all the intensity of his strong nature.
+And she loved him. But was she true to him? She had not told him that
+the man who had fled from the patrol-house out into the storm was Hugo,
+the trapper, and her father. He would find it out some day, and what
+would he then think of her? Should she have told him? she asked herself
+over and over again. But it was too late now. He had been gone from Big
+Chance for over an hour, and who could tell what might happen ere his
+return? Perhaps he would never come back. He had gone in search of a
+man who would not lightly be captured. And in the struggle which she
+felt sure would ensue what terrible things might happen. Her father
+would fight to the last, she was certain, and so would John North. He
+had never been known to turn from the face of man, so she had heard,
+and so far he had never come back from a quest empty-handed.
+
+And while she sat and meditated, the door was pushed gently open and
+a girl entered. She came at once over to the bunk, stooped and looked
+earnestly upon the unconscious man. She then dropped upon her knees
+by his side, took his left hand in hers and pressed it to her lips.
+Not a word did she utter, and seemed to pay no heed to the nurse.
+But Marion did not need any explanation. She understood the meaning
+of the girl’s action, and her heart went out to her in sympathy. She
+believed that the two were lovers, and that because of their love a
+tragedy had been enacted there in that little mining camp. The girl
+impressed her by her remarkable beauty and strange abandon. Her clothes
+were of the roughest, but so graceful was her form, that they fitted
+her perfectly. Her hair, black as a raven’s wing, fell in two long
+braids to her waist. The color of her face betrayed Indian blood in her
+veins, causing Marion to surmise that she was a half-breed. She had met
+several before, but none as graceful and charming as the one before
+her. She longed to know her history, and the story of her love for the
+white man upon the bunk.
+
+At length the girl raised her head and looked up at the nurse.
+
+“Will he get better?” she asked in a voice with a pronounced English
+accent.
+
+“Let us hope so,” Marion replied. “But he needs a doctor at once. He is
+the only one who can do anything for him now.”
+
+“When will he be here?”
+
+“I cannot tell. But I left word for him to come as soon as possible.
+He was away from Kynox when I left.”
+
+“And you can do nothing for him?” the girl asked.
+
+“Nothing, I am sorry to say.”
+
+“Then he must have the missionary. He will come, I know.”
+
+“The missionary? Where is he?”
+
+“At ‘The Gap.’ I shall go for him. He will come for me. He is a good
+doctor, and he will pray and make him well.”
+
+The girl rose to her feet as if to hurry away. But Marion caught her by
+the arm and told her to sit down.
+
+“What is your name?” she asked.
+
+“Zell.”
+
+“What else? What is your father’s name?”
+
+“Sam Rixton, but people always call him ‘Sam, the Siwash.’ My mother is
+an Indian. Her name is Susie.”
+
+“And have you lived here all your life?”
+
+“Oh, no. I was put in the Mission school at The Gap when very young,
+and left only a year ago.”
+
+“So that is where you learned to speak English so well, I suppose.”
+
+“Yes, the missionary and his wife were good to me. I guess they thought
+more of me than of all the others. They wanted to keep me and take me
+back to England. They came from there, you see.”
+
+“But you preferred to stay here?”
+
+“I wanted to go until I met Tim,” was the low reply. “After that
+nothing could drag me away from the North. Oh, we were so happy until
+that trouble came.” The girl gave a deep sigh as she looked longingly
+upon the face of the man before her.
+
+“Where did you first meet him?” Marion asked.
+
+“At The Gap. I was at school then and met Tim when he was prospecting
+in the hills. He used to come to church every Sunday, and I saw him as
+we all marched in and out. Then for a time we managed to get letters to
+each other, and one night after all had gone to bed I slipped out of
+the house and met Tim by a big tree. He told me how much he loved me,
+and asked me to leave school and go back to my father and mother so he
+could see me often.”
+
+The girl paused and a troubled expression overspread her face. Then
+with tear-dimmed eyes she turned impulsively to the nurse.
+
+“That was the beginning of all my trouble,” she confessed. “I was
+found out and ordered not to meet Tim again. The missionary and his
+wife talked to me. They did not scold me, but said if I would not obey
+I would have to leave the school. I promised that I would be good.
+But, oh, Miss, as the weeks went by I did so long to see Tim just
+once again. I couldn’t live without him. I met him again by the tree,
+and--and,” her voice was very low now, “I was sent from the school in
+disgrace, and came to my parents.”
+
+“Have you seen the missionary and his wife since?” Marion asked.
+
+“No. Mrs. Norris died not long after I left. I did want to go to
+her funeral, but it was a long way, and I was afraid to meet the
+missionary. I believe she died because I left, for she thought so much
+of me. I couldn’t bear the thought of the missionary seeing me. I knew
+he wouldn’t scold, for he never did that, but he would look at me with
+those wonderful eyes of his, and, oh, Miss, if you could see them you
+would know just what I mean.”
+
+“Is the missionary still living at The Gap?”
+
+“Yes, he is there, but he has no school now. Nearly all of the Indians
+have deserted him. Bad white men did it. They took in rum, made fun of
+the missionary and his school, and got the Indians to leave the place.
+They are all scattered now, some here, and some in other camps, always
+hanging around for rum. They will do anything for hootch, and the women
+are just as bad as the men.”
+
+“Why does the missionary stay at The Gap when the Indians have gone?”
+Marion enquired.
+
+“He is waiting for them to come back, so I have been told. He prays and
+prays for them. He has service in the church every night, and most of
+the time he is the only one there. But he rings the little bell just as
+he used to do, and then goes on with the service.”
+
+“He must be a good man,” Marion remarked.
+
+“Oh, he is very good. But he is getting old and feeble now, so maybe he
+won’t be there much longer. But if he were only here I am sure he would
+help Tim. His prayers, I guess, would do more for him than anything
+else.”
+
+“You haven’t forgotten what you learned at the school, I see. You still
+believe in prayers, even though you have gone astray.”
+
+“I haven’t gone astray in the way you mean,” the girl declared as she
+gave her head a slight toss. “I was sent from the school, I know, but
+I have done nothing really wrong. I always remember what I was taught,
+and say my prayers night and morning. Tim is a good man and he always
+told me to do what was right.”
+
+“But he was willing for you to disobey orders, and get dismissed from
+the school,” Marion reminded.
+
+“Oh, that was different, Miss. You see, we loved each other so much
+that we couldn’t bear to be kept apart. Nothing must stand in the way
+of love, so Tim said.”
+
+Marion was tempted to smile at the simplicity and candor of the girl.
+To her, whatever Tim said was right. She longed to know more about the
+young man who had won the heart of this beautiful half-breed.
+
+“Were you and Tim planning to get married soon?” she asked.
+
+“Oh, yes. He said he was going to take me outside next summer, and we
+would then be married. But now this trouble has come, and Tim may die.”
+
+“How did it happen, Zell? You don’t mind telling me, do you?”
+
+“I don’t mind, Miss. But I am afraid all the time. Bill did that to
+Tim, and he might do worse to me. He is a bad, bad man.”
+
+“Who is Bill?”
+
+“The man who shot Tim. He hates him because he wants me. Oh, I am
+afraid of him! He follows me around. He is called ‘Bill, the Slugger’
+because he hits so hard.”
+
+“So he wants to marry you, does he?” Marion queried, for the first time
+beginning to understand a little of the situation.
+
+“Yes, he does. But I hate him, and have told him so over and over
+again. I slapped him in the face once, and he swore awful, called me a
+‘she-devil,’ and said that he would pay me back. And that is the way he
+has done it.” She motioned to the man on the bunk. “I am afraid to go
+home, for I know Bill will be waiting for me.”
+
+“But how did he come to shoot Tim?” Marion asked. “Was it for revenge?”
+
+The girl looked anxiously toward the door and then at the nurse.
+
+“Bend your head so I can whisper in your ear,” she ordered. “There,
+that’s better. I don’t want anybody to hear. Bill might be listening at
+the door. It was partly for revenge and partly for fear that he shot
+Tim.”
+
+“Fear of what?”
+
+“He was afraid that Tim knew too much, so he wanted to get him out of
+the way. Bill picked a quarrel with him, so Tim got mad and hit him.
+Oh, I found out all about it.”
+
+“But what was it about which Tim knew too much?” Marion questioned.
+
+“Can’t you guess?” the girl asked. “I don’t like to tell you because I
+am afraid even to speak of it.”
+
+“I have no idea what it can be,” Marion replied. “You see, I know very
+little about what goes on here.”
+
+“But it wasn’t here, Miss, that it happened. It was far away, near the
+C. D. Cut-Off.”
+
+“Oh!” It was all that Marion said, for a new light was beginning to
+dawn upon her mind. The C. D. Cut-Off! It was near there that the
+terrible murder had been committed, of which her father was suspected.
+Was it possible that this girl knew something about that affair? It did
+seem likely, and the thought filled her with a new hope. “Was it Bill
+who did that?” she asked in a very low voice.
+
+Zell started, and again glanced toward the door.
+
+“I didn’t say that, Miss,” she whispered in reply. “I don’t dare to. He
+would kill me if I did.”
+
+“You needn’t be afraid,” Marion soothed. “The Police will not let any
+one harm you. Sergeant North must know about this.”
+
+At these words the girl sprang to her feet, her eyes dilated with fear.
+She was trembling violently, and unconsciously she stooped and caught
+the nurse’s hands in hers.
+
+“Don’t, don’t tell him!” she begged. “Bill will know who told, and he
+will kill me. I’m not afraid to die, but I want to live a while longer
+to help Tim. I must go for the missionary. I shall go just as soon as
+Bill leaves Big Chance.”
+
+“Where is Bill going?” Marion asked.
+
+“I don’t know for sure, but I think he is planning to go outside. Just
+after the Police left, he began to get ready for a trip. He was packing
+up when I came here. He has been almost frightened out of his wits ever
+since the Police came.”
+
+“How do you know all this, Zell?”
+
+“Oh, I have ways of finding out. I have kept my eyes on Bill ever since
+he shot Tim. He didn’t know I was watching him.”
+
+“So you think he is going to leave this country?”
+
+“I am sure of it.”
+
+“How will he go?”
+
+“By way of The Gap and across the mountains.”
+
+“But the Police have gone in that direction,” Marion reminded. “Why
+should he go where they are?”
+
+“Bill has a reason,” was the low reply.
+
+“What reason?”
+
+“Can’t you guess? A bad man will stop at nothing.”
+
+“But the Police can stop him.”
+
+“Can they? You don’t know Bill, I guess. He’s a devil.”
+
+“But he is afraid of the Police, so you say.”
+
+“That is so. He is so afraid that he hates them. The missionary used
+to tell us what the Bible said about the devil going around like a
+roaring lion seeking whom he may devour; that he hates good people, and
+tries to harm them. So that is the way with Bill. He has tried over and
+over again to harm me, but I was too sharp for him. Look what he did to
+Tim. And he will try to hurt the Police.”
+
+“What! Sergeant North?” Marion had a new interest now in Bill, the
+Slugger. “Will he dare to do anything to a member of the Force?”
+
+Zell was quick to detect the note of anxiety in Marion’s voice, and at
+once she suspected something. It drew her closer to the beautiful white
+woman.
+
+“Do you love Sergeant North?” she frankly asked.
+
+Marion started and flushed at the unexpected question. But so sincere
+was the girl, that she decided to throw aside all reserve and pretense.
+
+“Yes, I love him,” she candidly acknowledged.
+
+“Ah, that’s good. And does he love you?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, then, Miss, you can understand how I feel about Tim. You
+wouldn’t want that to happen to the one you love, would you?”
+
+“No! No!” Marion fervently declared. “It would be terrible!”
+
+“It would, so you and I must see that it doesn’t happen.”
+
+“How can we do that?”
+
+“Go with me to The Gap and warn the Sergeant. If we cannot overtake
+him, we can go to the Police house which is not far from the school.
+The Sergeant will be sure to stop there.”
+
+“But what about Tim?” Marion asked. “We can’t leave him here alone
+until the doctor comes.”
+
+“My mother will stay, Miss. She is a good woman, and can do more than
+I can. My father has a fine team of dogs which I know he will let me
+have. He will do anything for me when he knows that I am doing what is
+right. He likes Tim, and he will be glad to have the missionary come
+and pray for him. Will you go?”
+
+“When?”
+
+“To-night, before Bill starts. We must get ahead of him.”
+
+For a few minutes Marion sat lost in deep thought. At length she arose,
+and seized the girl’s hands in hers.
+
+“Yes, I shall go,” she firmly said. “I trust you, Zell, to lead the
+way, and may God help us both.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+Terrors of the Night
+
+
+It was upon the impulse of the moment that Marion had agreed to go
+to The Gap with the half-breed girl. Half an hour later she almost
+repented of her hasty decision. She knew very little about Zell, and
+she wondered whether she could trust to her guidance. This feeling of
+doubt, however, vanished as they pulled out from Big Chance on the
+first lap of their long run. It was near midnight, and the full moon
+was just rounding the massive northeast shoulder of the Golden Horn.
+The little mining camp was shrouded in deep shadow. Silence reigned
+in each log cabin, and not a living creature was to be seen. Zell’s
+father, Siwash Sam, had made speedy preparations for the trip, and had
+given his daughter implicit directions, telling her which trail to
+follow to shorten the journey by several miles; to be on the lookout
+for storms on the mountain; and to be careful when rounding the rocky
+spur of the high ridge leading to The Gap.
+
+“Do you think that Zell can manage, all right?” Marion asked as she
+took her place upon the little toboggan.
+
+“Sure,” Sam replied. “Zell kin handle them dogs better than anyone
+else. She’s a holy terror when she hits the trail. Ye needn’t have any
+fear about her, Miss. Mebbe you’ll be as good as she is before ye git
+back.”
+
+It did not take Marion long to find how true were the man’s words. No
+sooner were they beyond the limits of Big Chance than Zell’s entire
+nature seemed to change. No longer was she the quiet, timid girl
+she had known in the cabin watching by Tim’s side. Instead, she was
+transformed into a strong, confident guide, resourceful, alert, and
+full of abounding energy. The spirit of the wild seemed to possess her.
+She raced behind the toboggan, urging on the dogs, her whip cracking at
+times like pistol shots.
+
+For miles the trail led through a sparsely wooded region where the
+trees cast long sombre shadows upon the light snow. The dogs settled
+into a steady jog where the ground was level, but raced like the wind
+down every hill. Then Zell would jump upon the tail of the toboggan and
+whoop aloud with glee to the speeding animals. They seemed to imbibe
+much of the enthusiasm of their young mistress, and upon reaching
+the valley below they would glance quickly around as if for a word
+of approval, which was never lacking. They were four noble brutes,
+huskies, of the Mackenzie River breed, accustomed to great hardships,
+and possessed of marvellous endurance. Savage they were to all except
+their owners. To Zell they were harmless. They obeyed her slightest
+wish, and she could handle them even when her father and mother failed.
+A word or a lifted hand from her had more effect than a shower of blows.
+
+Marion had plenty of time to think as she sat upon the toboggan,
+comfortably wrapped in a big wolf-skin robe. She was glad now that
+she had undertaken the journey. There was much at stake, she was well
+aware, and she often wondered how it would all end. What she should
+do upon reaching The Gap, she had no idea. But somewhere beyond was
+her father, fleeing from place to place, with that expression of a
+hunted creature in his grey eyes. She had seen it for a few seconds as
+he bounded from the cabin that night into the heart of the storm. She
+had thought about it much since, and it had puzzled her. And following
+her father was John North, the man who had avowed his love for her.
+Would they meet somewhere in that desolate wilderness? What would be
+the outcome? And then there was Bill, the Slugger. Had he already
+started forth upon his diabolical quest? Perhaps he would creep upon
+the sergeant and the constable asleep around their camp-fire at night.
+The thought was terrible. Such a thing had taken place before, she well
+knew, and it might happen again. In vain she racked her brain in an
+effort to devise some plan to avert a tragedy, and perhaps two.
+
+For several hours they continued on their way, and at last when the
+summit of an extra heavy hill had been reached, Zell called a halt.
+The dogs were glad to stop, so flopping down upon the trail they
+began to clear particles of snow and ice from their feet with their
+teeth. Nearby was a clump of fir trees, several of which were dead and
+afforded excellent fuel. It did not take Zell long to prepare a fire,
+over which she placed a kettle filled with snow. While this latter was
+melting, she unpacked her supply of provisions and laid them out near
+the fire. Marion, standing watching, was pleased at the girl’s deftness
+and neatness. She knew exactly what to do, and when the meal was ready,
+she served the simple repast with an admirable grace.
+
+“I suppose you were taught to cook at the mission school,” Marion
+remarked, helping herself to a piece of moose steak which Zell had
+just fried. “You certainly learned your lessons well.”
+
+The girl smiled, while an expression of pleasure shone in her eyes.
+
+“Mrs. Norris always taught us,” she explained. “We took turns cooking
+at the school. I won several prizes for baking bread, and making cake.
+Tim was very fond of my cooking.”
+
+“You were able to teach your mother many things, I suppose, when you
+went back home?”
+
+“Not much. My mother, you see, was from the Coast, and the women there
+are good cooks. She was a Chilcat Indian, and her mother taught her.
+I have heard my father say that he married her because she was such a
+good cook. I guess, though, he was just in fun.”
+
+“Does the missionary at The Gap do his own cooking now?” Marion asked.
+
+“I suppose he does, Miss. But I don’t believe he eats much, anyway.
+He didn’t when we were at the school, as he was always thinking and
+writing so much. And now that he is alone maybe he eats less, for he
+must be working a great deal.”
+
+“What does he write about?”
+
+“He makes books for the Indians. He writes hymns, prayers, and the
+Bible in their own language. He has taught many of them to read.”
+
+“Do the Indians use the books?”
+
+“Oh, yes. They carry them with them to their hunting-grounds, and sing
+the hymns around their campfires at night.”
+
+“But you told me that the Indians have left the mission.”
+
+“In a way they have, but they like to read the Bible and sing the
+hymns when out in the hills. I was with my father and mother last
+winter when we came to a band of Indians a long way off. That night
+they sang, men, women, and children. It was great to hear them.”
+
+“Does the missionary know of this?”
+
+“I believe he does, and it makes him hope that they have not forgotten
+what he has taught them, and that some day they will go back to The
+Gap.”
+
+For a while they thus sat and talked, Marion asking many questions, to
+which the girl readily replied. They were about to resume their journey
+when Zell gave a slight start, and looked anxiously back over the
+trail. She listened intently, her body tense and alert.
+
+“What is it?” Marion somewhat anxiously asked.
+
+“I thought I heard a noise, Miss. It sounded like the crack of a
+driver’s whip or a rifle shot. But I guess I was mistaken. One can hear
+a long way up here in the hills when the air is so clear.”
+
+“Perhaps there is someone on the trail behind us,” Marion suggested.
+“Indians travel this way, do they not?”
+
+“Yes, this is one of their favorite trails. But there are no Indians
+coming from Big Chance to-day.”
+
+Nothing more was said about the matter as they continued on their way.
+But Marion noticed that Zell was more quiet, and indulged in no loud
+cracking of the whip. Whenever they had reached the top of a hill or
+had crossed an inland lake, or a stretch of wild meadow, she noticed
+that the girl would stop, and look keenly back over the way they had
+just come. This happened so often that she became uneasy. The intense
+silence of the land was affecting her, causing her to become nervous.
+A feeling of impending calamity stole into her soul, which try as she
+might she could not banish. It was with her all through the short
+winter day. She tried to throw it off by running with Zell behind the
+sled. This helped some, but the feeling still remained.
+
+It was a bright day, and the dogs made excellent progress. They loped
+forward, anxious for camping time when they would receive their food.
+Marion was fascinated with the scenery of the country. Off in the
+distance rose great snow-enshrouded mountains, aglow with the light of
+the sun. Above, towered the dazzling peak of the Golden Horn, which
+seemed so near, yet she knew it was leagues away. At times the trail
+led along the side of the mountain where they could look down upon the
+pointed tops of the trees in the valley below, resembling countless
+spears poised heavenward.
+
+Only once did they halt to rest, eat a frugal meal, and then on and
+up again. Marion was becoming weary, although Zell seemed as fresh as
+ever. Slowly the sun sank westward, and at length disappeared below
+a far-off peak. Ere long darkness stole over the land, and night
+approached with rapid strides. Soon it would be camping time, and Zell
+was watching for a good place to pass the night when a sound fell upon
+their ears, which caused Marion to give a gasp of fright, and turn
+impulsively to her companion.
+
+“What is that?” she asked, her body trembling.
+
+“A wolf,” was the quiet reply. “We must make camp at once, and build a
+big fire. Ah, here is a good place with plenty of wood.”
+
+In a few minutes the dogs were unharnessed, the fire built, and the
+blazing flames leaping high into the air.
+
+From time to time came that long-drawn, blood-curdling howl, the cry
+of the leader to the pack. It seemed nearer now, and Marion shuddered
+with apprehension. Even Zell’s face expressed her concern. From a
+pocket in her dress she brought forth a revolver, and examined it
+carefully. Marion had no idea that the girl carried such a weapon, and
+it surprised her.
+
+“Do you often have use for that?” she asked.
+
+“It is handy sometimes,” was the reply. “One never knows what might
+happen. There are two-legged wolves in this country, and I fear them
+more than I do the four-legged ones. A girl has to protect herself, you
+know.”
+
+Marion was beginning to realize something of the undercurrent of life
+in the North. Hitherto, she had known only the surface. There were
+deeps which she had not sounded, but of which her companion seemed
+fully aware. She said nothing, however, but assisted in building the
+little lean-to which would be their abode for the night. When this had
+been erected, fir boughs laid down, and the blankets and the wolf-skin
+robe laid out, she was glad to rest. No longer did the howl of the
+wolves sound upon their ears. The fire was bright, and the snug abode
+comfortable.
+
+After they had eaten their supper and the dogs were fed, they wrapped
+themselves up for the night. Both were tired, so it was not long before
+they were sound asleep. The dogs curled themselves up near the fire and
+enjoyed the genial heat. Silence reigned, save for the crackling of
+the burning sticks, or the occasional snapping of a frost-stung tree.
+The night was cold, although not a breath of wind stirred the trees.
+The great vault of heaven was thickly studded with stars, for the moon
+had not risen to pale their glory. The Northern Lights sent out their
+wavering streamers as they marched and countermarched in silent,
+mysterious battalions.
+
+And while the tired ones slept, gaunt, hairy forms, with fiery lolling
+tongues, and blazing eyes, loped along the upper ridge, and approached
+the camp. The wolves were hungry, for food was scarce. Only in an
+extreme emergency did these somewhat cowardly creatures venture near
+human abodes. It was the dogs which attracted them now. They were in
+desperate straits, as no deer, moose, or any living thing had crossed
+their path for days. Only when starving would they unite, for strength
+and safety lay in numbers. There were but twelve of them thus banded
+together, but mad with hunger, they were a pack to be dreaded.
+
+The dogs scented them, and their savage growls and whines of fear
+aroused the sleeping women. Zell was first awake, and in an instant
+realized what was the matter. The fire was burning low, so seizing
+several dry sticks she threw them upon the hot coals. In another minute
+Marion was on her feet, looking fearfully to the right among the trees
+where the wolves were gathered. As the fire increased in strength,
+and the bright flames illumined the camping grounds for several rods
+around, she was enabled to detect dim, slinking forms not far away.
+
+“Will they attack us?” she asked, laying a nervous hand upon Zell’s arm.
+
+“Not likely now,” was the reply. “They are after the dogs, but this
+fire will keep them back. Look at that big, bold brute there,” and she
+pointed to a large wolf which had ventured threateningly near. “I’m
+going to try a shot at him.”
+
+Drawing forth her revolver, she took a quick steady aim, and fired. A
+yell of pain split the night, as the brute leaped into the air, and
+vanished into the darkness.
+
+“I hit him,” Zell exulted, while a smile wreathed her face. “I wish I
+had my rifle, then I could easily settle the whole pack.”
+
+“Do you suppose you killed him?” Marion asked.
+
+“Oh, no, he was too far away. If I had killed him, the rest of the
+wolves would be eating him up by now. I must not waste any more
+cartridges upon them at that distance, as I shall need them if they
+come too close.”
+
+For some time, which seemed to Marion very long, they watched and
+waited for the next move on the part of the lurking brutes. The dogs
+huddled together close to the little lean-to, either whining with
+fear, or growling with anger. Their implacable enemies were just
+beyond that fire-lit circle, and they knew only too well the object
+of their visit. The dogs were ever ready and willing to fight with
+one another, for there was always a chance to win. But against those
+gaunt, savage, and famine-stricken fiends of the wilderness they would
+be helpless. Whenever the wolves approached nearer, they shrank closer
+to the women for protection. Bolder now became the enemy, and although
+Zell fired two more shots into their midst, it only deterred them
+for a few minutes. They circled the encampment several times, always
+drawing nearer, especially back of the lean-to. The situation was
+becoming critical, for at any minute they might hurl themselves upon
+the helpless ones crouching near the fire. Zell kept her revolver in
+readiness, although she was well aware how little she could do should a
+rush ensue.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+Hugo to the Rescue
+
+
+Hugo, the trapper, was late, and he was speeding along with great
+swinging strides. He was alone, for he had left his dog fastened in his
+little cabin up on the mountain side. He had a reason for this, as his
+mission that day had been of extreme importance, and complete silence
+had to be maintained. He was in no enviable frame of mind as he strode
+through the night, and any enemy, whether man or beast, attempting to
+interfere with him would have found in him a desperate opponent. He had
+been watching another trail that day and what he had seen filled his
+heart with a burning rage, mingled with a nameless fear. He felt as
+he did that night when he had bounded from the cabin into the storm.
+Notwithstanding his strength and astuteness, he always shrank from the
+Police, considering them his bitterest enemies. So that day as he had
+watched forms speeding along behind their dogs, he knew who they were,
+and surmised the mission upon which they were bent.
+
+He had swung up from the valley and was about to cross the trail, known
+as the “Cut-Off,” between Big Chance and The Gap, when a shot arrested
+his attention, causing him to stop abruptly. The report came from
+the left, and keenly he peered in that direction. Seeing and hearing
+nothing more, he moved cautiously forward. Not a sound did he make as
+he glided among the trees, keeping a short distance from the trail
+above. Ere long he again stopped, for a glimmer of light fell upon
+his eyes. Then he heard the snarling of dogs, and at once realised
+that trouble of some kind was just ahead. Slowly advancing, the light
+became brighter, and a few more steps showed him the women crouching
+near the lean-to with the dogs huddled at their feet. In an instant he
+grasped the meaning of the situation. His rifle, already in his hands,
+he gripped more firmly, and waited. He could not see the wolves but he
+knew that they were there. When, however, Zell fired the second and the
+third shots, he caught a glimpse of the brutes as they fell back with
+yelps and angry snarls.
+
+Who the women were Hugo could not tell, not being able to see their
+faces, which were partly hidden by the lean-to. He surmised, however,
+that they were Indians, and he wondered what had become of the men.
+Noticing that the wolves were becoming bolder, and evidently preparing
+for an attack, he moved a little nearer, stepping somewhat to the right
+for a better sight. As he did so he gave a start, for at once Marion’s
+face was exposed to view. In an instant he recognized her, and the form
+of his countenance changed. The defiant light faded from his eyes and
+was replaced by an expression of deep concern. For a few seconds he
+stood there as still as the trees around him. What he saw stirred his
+inmost depths, and brought back memories of other days. She was his own
+child, yet he must not go to her. All he could do was to protect her
+from those brutes of the forest.
+
+He was aroused by a cry of fear. Glancing to the right he saw a great
+wolf advancing within the ring of light, flanked to the right and left
+by the rest of the pack. Zell fired another shot, but missed. The
+leader drew back with a savage snarl, and was about to spring forward
+when Hugo brought his rifle to his shoulder and fired. With a wild
+yell the wolf leaped into the air, and dropped upon the ground. Taken
+aback, his followers hesitated and one by one they fell before the
+unerring shots of the unseen marksman. Not until five had fallen did
+the rest retreat, and then slowly and wrathfully they drew away among
+the darkness of the forest. But Hugo’s blood was now up and he feared
+the wolves as if they were so many kittens. He stepped quickly toward
+them, refilling the magazine of his rifle as he did so. He could see
+their slinking forms now, and again into their midst he poured messages
+of death. Yells of pain and baffled rage followed each shot. The few
+remaining wolves faced the trapper, but ere they could spring, they,
+too, were rolling in the snow. It was a veritable carnage of death from
+which only one brute escaped by leaping aside and dashing off pell-mell
+among the trees.
+
+When the fight was over, a grim smile overspread Hugo’s face. Then he
+turned toward the surprised and staring women.
+
+He was upon the point of stepping forward and calming their fears by
+telling them that the danger was past. He changed his mind, however,
+drew back a few paces among the trees, and stood with his eyes fixed
+intently upon Marion’s face. A great longing was tugging at his heart
+such as he had not known for years. He recalled the days he had played
+with her in his old happy home. She had changed since then, but she was
+his child. How often he had thought of her during his wanderings and
+long lonely night vigils. In fact, she had been seldom out of his mind.
+His affection for her had saved him from developing into a brute,
+causing him to perform numerous deeds of humanity, the surprise of
+many people. So standing there, hidden by the trees and the night, he
+feasted his eyes upon her face. After a while he turned away, reached
+the trail, and sped rapidly along in the direction of The Gap. At
+length he turned aside, plunged through a heavy thicket of firs and
+jack-pines, crossed a narrow strip of wild meadow, and climbed a steep
+hill until he came to a small cabin tucked away amidst the trees. He
+opened the door and entered. He then lighted a couple of candles,
+and built a fire in the little sheet-iron camping-stove. The dog was
+most profuse in its welcome, leaping upon him, and giving expression
+to yelps of delight. Hugo fondled the animal, his eyes beaming with
+pleasure.
+
+“Good old Pedro,” he said. “You missed me, eh? And I missed you. But
+strange things are afoot these days, old boy, so we must be careful.”
+
+When supper was over and the dog fed, Hugo lighted his pipe, stretched
+himself upon the bunk near the fire, and gave himself up to anxious
+thought. He reviewed the events of the day, especially his recent
+encounter with the wolves. What were the women doing there? he asked
+himself over and over again. And where were they going? What could
+bring Marion so far into the wilderness? It must be of more than
+ordinary importance, for he had never known a white woman to venture
+such a distance from Kynox, especially in the dead of winter. The more
+he thought about it, the more disturbed he became. Had it been any
+other woman it would not have mattered so much to him. But she was his
+own daughter, and his heart was deeply stirred.
+
+For over an hour Hugo lay there wrapt in thought. He then rose to his
+feet and paced up and down the small room. Several times he went to
+the door and looked out in the direction where the women were camped.
+An uneasy feeling was tugging at his heart which he could not banish.
+He called himself a fool, blew out the candles, and threw himself down
+again upon the bunk. But he could not sleep. His thoughts were ever
+down the trail as he pictured those two women alone in the night.
+Perhaps more wolves had returned, for he knew that several packs were
+on the move of late. And if not wolves, there were creatures more to
+be feared where helpless women were concerned. It was most unlikely
+that men would be prowling around, he reasoned. But who could tell? The
+absence of those women must surely be known at Big Chance, and there
+were men there capable of any deed of villainy.
+
+At length he sprang to his feet, pulled on his heavy outer jacket
+and cap, seized his snow-shoes, and ordering the dog to stay behind,
+he left the cabin, and hurried down the trail. It took him but a
+few minutes to come near the camping-ground, where he moved most
+cautiously, peering keenly ahead. Although he approached most silently,
+the dogs scented his presence. They leaped to their feet and growled
+ferociously. Hugo paid little heed to the brutes, his attention being
+centred upon a lone figure huddled before the fire. Instinctively he
+realised that something was the matter, so stepping into the circle of
+light he rapidly approached. Marion saw him coming, recognized him at
+once, and with a cry of joy sprang to her feet. So overcome was she
+that she tottered and would have fallen had not Hugo leaped forward
+and caught her in his arms. Just for a few luxurious seconds he held
+her close, and then laid her tenderly upon the wolf-skin robe. Marion
+was deadly pale, and she was trembling violently. The strain of the
+night had unnerved her, and this sudden and unexpected meeting with her
+father was more than she could endure. As she lay there, she kept her
+eyes fixed upon his face. Then her lips moved as if she would speak.
+This Hugo noted, and he bent toward her.
+
+“What is the matter?” he asked. “Why are you alone? Where is that girl?
+You seem almost frightened to death.”
+
+“And so I am,” was the low reply. “Oh, this has been a terrible night!
+We were attacked by wolves, and when they were about to spring upon us,
+somebody shot them, and saved us.”
+
+“I know all about that,” and Hugo nodded his head. “I happened along
+just at the right moment.”
+
+“Was it really you?” Marion asked in surprise, drawing herself up with
+an effort to a sitting position. “And have you seen Zell? Do you know
+where she is?”
+
+“The girl who was with you?” Hugo asked. “Where did she go?”
+
+“She went just a short distance over there after some dry wood,” Marion
+explained, motioning to the right. “But she hasn’t come back, and I am
+afraid that something has happened to her. Perhaps the wolves caught
+her.”
+
+“Didn’t you hear any noise?”
+
+“Not a sound.”
+
+“Did you call to her?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I called to her for a long time, but could get no answer.”
+
+“Four-legged wolves didn’t get her,” Hugo emphatically declared, while
+a fierce expression leaped into his eyes. “She would have given a cry
+of distress if they had.”
+
+“Why, what could have happened to her, then?”
+
+“That remains to be seen. There are worse creatures than four-legged
+wolves prowling around at times, especially where attractive women are
+concerned.”
+
+Marion understood the meaning of these words, and her thoughts flashed
+at once to Bill, the Slugger. Could it be possible that he had been
+following them, and had seized the half-breed girl and carried her
+off ere she could give a cry of warning? She recalled what Zell had
+told her about Bill, and his hatred to Tim. She felt weaker and more
+helpless than ever as she thought of these things.
+
+“What are we to do?” she asked in a despairing voice. Then in a few
+words she confessed her fears to her father.
+
+“And it was Bill who shot Tim, you say?” he asked.
+
+“That is what Zell told me. Out of revenge, so I understand.”
+
+“Was there any other reason?”
+
+“I believe so.”
+
+Hugo remained silent for a few minutes, lost in thought. Marion watched
+him closely, and tried to see in his face the resemblance she had known
+and loved years before. She thought of all that he had meant to her and
+to her mother, and how he had provided for them through the years. And
+how he must have suffered the long separation from those so dear to
+him. What mental agony must have been his. And suppose he had done what
+was wrong, he was her father. A sudden rush of affection swept upon her
+as she gazed upon that stern, sad face. The deep wrinkles upon his brow
+told their own silent tale. No matter what he had done, he had surely
+paid the price over and over again.
+
+“Father,” she cried, impetuously reaching out her arms. “I want you as
+I used to want you as a child.”
+
+For an instant only did Hugo hesitate. He then stooped and allowed
+Marion to encircle his neck with her arms, and impress a kiss upon his
+forehead. His great form trembled and his eyes were misty. In another
+minute he freed himself, stepped back, and stood erect before his
+daughter.
+
+“You should not do that,” he told her.
+
+“Do what?”
+
+“Kiss me. Am I not an outcast? Have I not been hounded from place to
+place? Are not the Police always watching to seize me?”
+
+“But you are my father,” Marion reminded, “and no matter what you have
+done I can never forget that.”
+
+Hugo was about to reply, but words seemed suddenly to fail him. He
+stood staring off into the blackness of the forest as if he beheld
+something there.
+
+“Won’t you come with me?” Marion asked, wondering at his silence. “We
+can leave this country, go outside, and you can begin life all over
+again.”
+
+“No, no!” Hugo fiercely replied. Then his manner changed. “You are
+tired, worn out. Come with me to my little cabin, and when you have
+rested we will talk about this. I have kept you here too long already.”
+
+“But what about Zell?” Marion asked. “She might come back.”
+
+“Not likely,” was the reply. “Anyway, we can’t help her just now.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+Stains on the Snow
+
+
+Marion was glad to leave the lean-to and follow her father. She
+started aside and gave voice to a slight cry of fear as the toe of her
+moccasined foot touched the body of a wolf stiffening upon the snow.
+The forest seemed filled with horrible things, dead and alive. And
+somewhere in their secret depths was Zell, the beautiful girl to whom
+she had become so deeply attached. Was she alive? or was she, too,
+lying upon the cold snow like the wolves around her? But perhaps she
+was alive, and longing to die. The thought was terrible. Why were base
+men allowed to roam at large, to prey upon helpless and innocent women
+and girls? She knew that it was permitted in towns and cities, so could
+it be otherwise on the ragged edge of civilisation? How she longed for
+the strength of a man, her father’s, for instance, that she might go
+about redressing human wrongs.
+
+She thought of these things as she struggled bravely along the trail.
+She had no snow-shoes, and she could have made very little progress
+without her father’s strong supporting arm. She did not wish to give
+up, but ere long she felt that she could go no farther. A great
+weakness swept upon her, which forced her to sink down upon the snow
+with a weary gasp. For a second Hugo hardly knew what to do. Then
+without a word he stooped, picked her up boldly and bore her speedily
+forward. Like a tired child she lay in those strong encircling arms.
+How often he had carried her when she was a child, and she had often
+admired his strength then. But now he seemed a veritable giant as he
+strode among the trees, crossed the wild meadow, and ascended the hill
+to the cabin.
+
+In a few minutes Marion was lying upon the bunk. How good it was to
+be there, and how restful. She felt that she could sleep forever. It
+did not take Hugo long to stir up the few live coals in the stove,
+boil some water, and prepare a cup of tea. This, together with some
+ptarmigan broth he also warmed, proved most refreshing. The heat of the
+room was conducive to sleep, and before long she was in a sound slumber.
+
+An expression of satisfaction shone upon Hugo’s face as he watched
+his sleeping daughter. He filled and lighted his pipe, and sat down
+upon a block of wood and leaned back against the wall on the opposite
+side of the stove. He could not see the girl’s face, as the one candle
+which was burning gave but a feeble flickering light. But he kept his
+eyes fixed in her direction, and his thoughts were deep. He was really
+happier than he had been for years. His own daughter was with him, the
+one for whom his heart had been crying out in all his lonely wanderings.
+
+Throughout the rest of the night Hugo kept watch. He prepared and ate
+his frugal breakfast, and fed the dog. As daylight was stealing over
+the land, he left the cabin and made his way back to the encampment.
+The dogs were still there, huddled upon the robes in the lean-to. The
+wolves were lying just where they had fallen. Hugo glanced at the gaunt
+brutes as if appraising their worth.
+
+“If I had time,” he mused, “I would take you to the cabin and strip
+off your pelts. But I’ve got other matters of more importance now.” He
+then touched the nearest wolf with his foot. “You didn’t expect this,
+I reckon, when you made the attack last night. It was mighty lucky I
+happened to come along when I did. It’s a pity I wasn’t on hand when
+that two-legged devil was around. There may have been more than one,
+though, but that wouldn’t have made any difference. I guess I could
+have settled the whole bunch. I hope to goodness I’ll run across them
+before long.”
+
+The dogs snarled as he approached the lean-to. But he drove them back,
+and gathered up the robe and blankets. He left them there and began to
+examine the environs of the camping-place, especially in the direction
+the half-breed girl had gone after the dry wood. The wolves had beaten
+down the snow so it was difficult for him to find any clue. Several
+times he encompassed the place, moving in a wider circle each time
+until he came to the edge of the untrampled snow. He had almost reached
+the trail when his attention was arrested by several dry sticks which
+had evidently been dropped in a hurry.
+
+And right here he saw moccasined footprints, large and small. Close
+by, the snow was trampled down, as if a struggle had taken place. This
+spot he examined most carefully, hoping to obtain some clue to aid
+him in his search for the missing girl. He was about to abandon his
+search when his right foot upturned a piece of cloth which had been
+hidden by the snow. Eagerly he seized this and inspected it closely.
+It was merely a small fragment, and as near as he could make out it
+had belonged to the flap of a man’s cap for the protection of his
+ears. To Hugo it had a world of meaning. He pictured the half-breed
+girl struggling furiously in the arms of her assailant, tearing at
+the man’s face and head, and ripping away a portion of his cap in her
+desperation. A growl of rage rumbled up in Hugo’s throat as he thought
+of the foul attack upon a helpless girl. Suppose it had been his own
+daughter! What if Marion were now in the clutches of that inhuman
+brute, whoever he might be! He turned and looked off toward the right.
+Placing the piece of cloth carefully in a pocket of his jacket, he
+walked slowly toward the trail, keeping his eyes fixed intently upon
+the footprints, which here were only a man’s size. Reaching the trail,
+he saw that the steps led in the direction of Big Chance. How far had
+the villain gone? he asked himself. No doubt he had a team of dogs
+near, and by now he was far away with his captive. It was most unlikely
+that he would take the girl back to the little mining camp where
+her father was living. He knew Siwash Sam, a man who minded his own
+business, but when once aroused his wrath was terrible. Only a devil or
+a madman would think of interfering with his only daughter, the pride
+of his life. But Bill, the Slugger, was both, he was well aware. He
+was a devil in badness, and his passion for the beautiful half-breed
+girl had turned his brain. Hugo knew of other deeds of infamy he had
+committed, and had so cleverly covered up his trail as to escape the
+far-reaching hands of the Police. But now he should not escape, was
+the trapper’s determination. He himself would be the avenger of the
+innocent if the Law did not get him first.
+
+The thought of the Law caused Hugo to look quickly around. Then he gave
+a sarcastic grunt as he hurried along the trail.
+
+“Hugo, you fool,” he muttered, “you better look after your own skin.
+If you’re not careful something may happen to you.”
+
+His mind turned to his daughter and an anxious expression overspread
+his face. What was he to do with her? He longed to have her with him,
+but under the circumstances that was out of the question. He thought
+of the missionary at The Gap. If he could get there, perhaps she could
+live in the mission house for a time, at least. He was sure he could
+make it worth while for the missionary to look after his daughter. He
+raised his right hand and pressed it against his breast. Yes, the ring
+was safe, and it would help him if necessary. He recalled the day he
+had found it in the crack of the floor in that cabin on the bank of the
+river. How differently matters had turned out from what he had planned.
+
+Thinking thus as he hurried forward, he ere long came to a heavy clump
+of trees. He had gone part way through when he came upon the site of
+an abandoned camping-place. He felt the ashes, and found them cold.
+He next examined the beaten-down snow and saw where the dogs had been
+lying. He studied a number of moccasined footprints, and saw again
+several small impressions, together with large ones. He was certain
+now that they were made by the half-breed girl, and that her captor
+had camped with her here. His eyes suddenly rested upon the peculiar
+marks upon the packed-down snow a few feet from the fire. Stooping,
+he saw that it was blood. A chip lying near was also stained with
+frozen drops. Was it human blood? he asked himself, or was it from the
+bleeding feet of the dogs? He banished this latter idea, however, after
+he had looked carefully around where the dogs had been lying. There
+were no signs of blood there, so he knew that the stains near the fire
+were made by the blood of human beings. What had happened? he wondered.
+Had a tragedy been enacted there in the night? What had become of the
+campers?
+
+For a while Hugo remained there, searching for some further clue.
+But nothing could he find to aid him in his search. Silence reigned
+around him. Far off the peaks of the great mountains were aglow with
+the morning sun. Above him the Golden Horn was agleam with surpassing
+glory. The entire landscape seemed fresh and joyous after its bath
+of night. But Hugo noticed none of these wonders. His thoughts dwelt
+upon more serious things. He was thinking deeply, and his brow knit
+with perplexity. There was a certain course he wished to pursue, yet
+he felt unable to carry it out. A restraining influence overshadowed
+him, pressing hard upon his very soul. It was no new battle he was
+fighting, as he had been contending fiercely for long years. It was a
+struggle between the brute nature within him, and the call to higher
+things. At times the former had seemed to sway his entire being, and
+on such occasions he had been a terror to man and beast. But alone
+in the silence of the great wilderness the nobleness within him had
+always risen to battle with the demon that would drag him down. And now
+another element in the person of his daughter had come to strengthen
+his manhood and his desire for a new mode of life. Would it not be
+better to leave the trails, he reasoned, face the world boldly, and
+if punishment according to the legal code were necessary, to bear it
+without a murmur?
+
+As he thus stood there battling with these conflicting emotions, his
+keen ears caught a disturbing sound up the trail. He listened intently,
+his entire body now fully alert. That it was a dog-team, he soon
+became certain, and it was rapidly approaching. Forgotten in an instant
+was Hugo’s half-formed resolve to face the world boldly, and begin
+life anew. The habits of years had taken too firm a grip upon him to
+be shuffled off at will like a suit of clothes. Like a subtle poison
+the spirit of determined antagonism had permeated his entire being,
+affecting his every thought and action.
+
+With an angry growl he sprang from the trail, crashed through the
+trees, and made his way to the base of the hill not far away. Here he
+paused and looked back. Not being able to see anything owing to the
+intervening trees, he ascended the hill until he came to a large rock
+behind which he crouched. From this place of concealment he could see
+fairly well all that took place on the trail below. Neither did he have
+long to wait, for in a few minutes a dog-team hove in sight, and pulled
+up near the abandoned camping-place. The two men who accompanied the
+dogs he at once recognized as Sergeant North and Constable Rolfe. He
+shrank back a little more behind the great rock, fearful lest he should
+be observed. His respect for the Police was now greater than ever.
+The day before he had watched them as they sped along the main trail
+between Big Chance and The Gap. He had smiled grimly then, satisfied
+that they were on the wrong scent. Now, however, they were right before
+him, and but for his keenness of hearing and quickness of action they
+would have been upon him before he could escape. To accomplish that
+journey they must have travelled all night. But why had they changed
+their course? That thought filled him with an intense uneasiness. His
+heart throbbed with hatred as he watched them. How easily he could
+pick them off. Only two shots would be necessary, for he knew that
+he could not miss. He clutched hard his rifle, and the forefinger of
+his mittenless right hand toyed with the trigger. One firm pressure,
+then the snick of the breech-bolt, a second reverberating report and
+all would be over. It was a tempting situation. But Hugo hesitated. He
+might kill those two men, but what would be gained? There were others
+to take their place, for back of them was the entire Force, together
+with the strength of the whole British Empire if necessary. He thought,
+too, of Marion. Why should he bring more disgrace upon her? If he had
+only himself to consider it would be different. It did not matter much
+what happened to himself. He felt that he was of little use in the
+world, anyway.
+
+Slowly his grasp lessened upon the rifle, and he replaced the mitten
+upon his uncovered hand. Then fearful lest the Police should notice his
+tracks and follow him, he moved cautiously from the rock, slipped among
+the thicket of jack-pines, and sped rapidly away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+Lost
+
+
+Zell had stooped and was picking up the dry wood she had gathered that
+evening, when she was suddenly seized and a mittened hand placed firmly
+over her mouth. Almost maddened with fright, she struggled desperately
+to free herself, and to cry for help. But she was powerless in the
+strong arms which held her fast. As she was being borne off, she fought
+like a wildcat, tearing at her captor’s face and cap, and clawing at
+his throat. But her efforts were all in vain, for she was carried
+rapidly away, and only when a camping-place was reached by the side of
+the trail was that pressing hand released from her mouth. Then by the
+light of the fire she saw that her captor was none other than Bill,
+the Slugger. Panting, she lay upon the bed of fir boughs where he had
+placed her. A triumphant light shone upon the man’s face as he stepped
+back to view the girl.
+
+“Well, what d’ye think of that for a job? Neat, wasn’t it?”
+
+Zell’s fear had now given place to anger, and her eyes blazed as she
+sprang to her feet and faced the villain.
+
+“You coward!” she cried. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
+
+“H’m, I’m not worryin’ about that, since I’ve got you. If I couldn’t
+git ye one way, I had to try some other plan.”
+
+“You wouldn’t talk so big if my father were here.”
+
+“Mebbe I wouldn’t, me love. But he ain’t here, so he don’t matter. But,
+say, Zell, why can’t ye like me? I’m crazy about you, an’ if ye’ll
+only let me, I’ll do well by ye. I’ll take ye outside an’ show ye the
+wonderful sights, an’ buy ye no end of purty dresses, an’ sich things
+as women like. I swear I will.”
+
+He stepped toward her as if to clasp her in his arms. But Zell drew
+back and stood on the defensive.
+
+“Don’t touch me,” she warned. “I hate you, Bill, and you know it. If
+you love me, why did you shoot Tim?”
+
+“’Cause I love ye, of course. I couldn’t bear to see anyone else have
+ye. That’s why.”
+
+“Well, if you thought you could get me by shooting Tim, then you were
+mistaken. I love Tim as much as I hate you, so there.”
+
+“Ain’t ye afraid to say sich a thing, Zell?” the man asked, while an
+ugly light leaped into his eyes. “Can’t ye see that yer at my mercy
+now, an’ that I kin do what I like with ye?”
+
+“Can you?” The girl asked the question boldly, but her heart was
+beating wildly. She realised only too well how true were the man’s
+words. Then she suddenly thought of something tucked away in a little
+pocket in the bosom of her dress. It gave her new encouragement. Yes,
+she would shoot him if necessary, although she did not wish to commit
+murder. She knew that he always carried a revolver, and could use it
+with lightning rapidity. She must act with extreme caution.
+
+“Zell, I don’t want to use force,” the man said, “an’ so I ask ye
+once more if ye’ll be mine. If ye will, then we’ll go an’ git the
+missionary at The Gap to hitch us up.”
+
+“Never!” The girl’s voice rang out clear and defiant upon the still
+night air. She knew the man standing before her, and was fully aware
+that he was not sincere in his promises. He wanted her just to satisfy
+his passion, and then he would throw her aside as he had done a number
+of Indian girls he had deceived. She must stand her ground, and not
+give in to him.
+
+As Zell uttered her stern refusal, the man calmly folded his arms
+and watched her. His greedy eyes took in her beauty, and the varying
+expressions upon her face, and the firm, lithe outlines of her tense
+body. He smiled, feeling certain that nothing now could come between
+him and the object of his desire.
+
+“So that’s final, is it?” he at length asked.
+
+“It is,” was the firm reply.
+
+“Well, then you’ll have to put up with the result. You are mine, and by
+G--, nothing can keep you from me.”
+
+He sprang suddenly forward as if to seize her. But Zell was watching,
+and quick as a cat she leaped aside, eluded his grasp, and sprang out
+upon the trail. With an angry oath, the man dashed after her. At times
+Zell glanced fearfully back, and noted that her pursuer was steadily
+gaining upon her. At length, seeing that she could not escape by
+flight, she suddenly stopped, wheeled, tore the revolver from her bosom
+and fired. With a yell of pain the man dropped upon the trail. In an
+instant he was on his knees, his revolver in his hand, blazing madly
+and wildly at the girl, once more fleeing for her life. Only when the
+firing ceased, and Zell was certain that she was at a safe distance,
+did she venture to stop and look back. She could see Bill on the
+trail, upon his hands and knees, creeping, so it seemed to her, back to
+the fire. She breathed a sigh of relief, and tucked the revolver away
+in the bosom of her dress. A smile of triumph overspread her face as
+she thought of Bill’s defeat, and the unexpected outcome of his plans.
+She was glad, though, that she had not killed him. But she must have
+wounded him severely to cause him to cry out as he did, and give up the
+pursuit.
+
+The smile of triumph, however, passed swiftly from her face as she
+realised the difficult position in which she was placed. She must
+get back to the white woman as soon as possible. But she did not
+dare to return by the trail, for that would mean passing close to
+the man she had defied and wounded. He would make short work of her,
+she was certain, should she come within range of his revolver. The
+only plan left was to leave the trail, and circle around toward her
+own camping-place. She believed that she could do this without great
+difficulty, for most of the time she could travel among the big trees
+where the snow would not be so deep. If she only had her snow-shoes it
+would be an easy matter. She knew how anxious the nurse must be about
+her, so she was anxious to get back as soon as possible.
+
+With another glance to make sure that Bill was not following her, she
+left the trail, plunged through the snow, and headed for the big trees
+beyond. It took her some time to do this, for the snow was deep and at
+times she was forced to stop and rest. But when she at last reached the
+heavy timber she breathed a sigh of relief. She felt safer now, being
+certain that it would not take her long to make her way to the camp.
+The walking was much easier here, and she sped on her way, gliding
+noiselessly among the great trees. Her only fear now was of wolves, and
+she shuddered whenever she thought of the brutes which had attacked
+them that night. She wondered who had shot them, and why he had not
+made himself known. It could not have been Bill, as he would have said
+something about it. No, it must have been someone else, and she racked
+her brain in an effort to solve the mystery.
+
+Although Zell was well accustomed to the trails, she knew very little
+about travelling through a trackless forest. Her years of training at
+the mission school had not prepared her for this phase of life. It was
+one thing to bound behind a team of dogs along a well-beaten trail, but
+it was an altogether different matter to find her way without a single
+guiding mark. She did not realise this, however, as she sped forward,
+expecting every minute to come in sight of the camp. She pictured the
+joy upon the nurse’s face when she saw her, and what a story she would
+have to tell.
+
+After she had travelled for some time and the camping-place had not
+been reached, she became somewhat anxious. She passed out of the
+heavy timber and came to the side of a hill where the trees were
+small and scarce. Here the snow was much deeper, making her progress
+difficult. The moon was shining big and bright, so she could see for
+some distance. Ahead, off to the left, was a thick wood, and there, so
+she believed, she would find the nurse. When she reached the place she
+was very weary, and could just drag herself out of the deep snow to
+the foot of a large pine. After she had rested a while, she continued
+on her way, moving slowly among the trees. Here there was little
+light, for the moon was not able to brighten those sombre depths.
+More anxious now than ever, she strained her eyes for sight of the
+blazing fire, as she felt sure that the nurse would not allow it to go
+out. How interminable seemed that forest. The cold was intense, and
+notwithstanding her vigorous exercise, she shivered. She longed to lie
+down and rest, but such a thing she did not dare to do, knowing full
+well what that would mean.
+
+At length, however, she was forced to sit down upon the root of a tree.
+She knew now that she was lost, and the thought filled her heart with
+terror. She had heard her father tell of men who had been lost in the
+forest and had never been heard of again. Would the same thing happen
+to her? she asked herself. No, it must not be. She would not die there
+alone. She would struggle on, and fight her way out.
+
+But she soon found what it really meant to carry out such a resolve. It
+was a vast, desolate wilderness in which she was wandering, and she was
+but a speck creeping among the crowding trees. An hour passed and still
+Zell dragged forward her weary body. No longer was she the keen, active
+girl who had left Big Chance but a short time before. Instead, she was
+a pathetic creature, reaching out appealing arms, calling, ever calling
+for aid which did not come. Once she had dropped upon her knees in the
+snow and prayed earnestly for deliverance. She remembered that the
+missionary had often told the girls at the school that God would hear
+their prayers. She had prayed rather indifferently of late, but she now
+prayed as she had never prayed in her life. It brought her some comfort
+as she rose from her knees and staggered onward. But she could not make
+much progress. She was completely bewildered. She knew that she could
+follow her trail back, but she had not the strength. Ere long she
+forgot even this as she floundered around in the snow. Strange noises
+sounded in her ears. She was sure that she heard the howling of wolves,
+and she shivered with fear. At times she was fighting with an imaginary
+enemy, and again shouting at the top of her voice. All sense of time
+and place was blotted out for her now as she stood knee-deep in the
+snow. She did not heed the merciless cold, nor the desolation of her
+surroundings. She was in another world of strange fancies. Sometimes
+she was with Tim, calling him endearing names, or pleading with him to
+come to her. Then she was at the mission school, talking and laughing
+with her companions.
+
+But this excitement only tended to weaken her already tired body. Ere
+long her knees gave way beneath her. She sank upon the snow, and made
+no effort to rise. And there she lay, babbling of other days, while the
+pitiless cold struck deeper and deeper into her chilled body.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+Where Strength Counts
+
+
+When Hugo left the rock and fled from the presence of his enemies, he
+wished to get as far away as possible. But before doing so, he was
+determined to see Marion. He could not leave her alone in the cabin,
+so if she agreed he would endeavor to take her to The Gap. He would be
+running a great risk, he was well aware, but he could not do otherwise.
+How he longed to go to her, speed with her to Swift Stream and thence
+outside. But he knew that would have to be postponed for a while, and
+perhaps for all time.
+
+He thought of this as he hurried on his way beneath the brow of the
+high hill, taking special care to keep out of sight of the Police. When
+he was sure that he would not be observed, he cautiously approached the
+trail, sped across it, and plunged into the thick woods on the lower
+side. Had he gone a couple of hundred yards farther on he would have
+come across the straggling trail made by the half-breed girl when she,
+too, had sought the shelter of those friendly trees. Of this Hugo was
+totally unaware as he moved rapidly forward. At times he was but a few
+rods from where Zell had travelled. Had Hugo swung a little more to the
+right, and the girl somewhat more to the left, their trails would have
+met, and how much that would have meant to one, at least.
+
+  “Oh, the little more, and how much it is!
+   And the little less, and what worlds away.”
+
+To Hugo the trackless wilds were as an open book, and he was as sure
+of his course as if on a well-beaten trail. Years of experience had
+developed his sense of direction, and he pressed steadily onward
+without the slightest hesitation. It was only when he came near his
+cabin did he slacken his speed and peer cautiously forward and around.
+Silence reigned everywhere as he stepped from his snow-shoes, pushed
+gently open the door and entered. The dog bounded to meet him, but Hugo
+motioning him to be still, looked toward the bunk. Marion was lying
+where he had left her, but she was now awake. She smiled as she saw her
+father standing there. Then she sat quickly up, an anxious expression
+showing in her eyes.
+
+“Did you find Zell?” she asked. “Oh, I know you didn’t,” she added.
+“She is not with you.”
+
+“I didn’t find her,” Hugo replied. “I have proof, though, that she was
+carried off by someone.”
+
+“Oh!” It was all that Marion said, as she waited for further
+information.
+
+In a few words Hugo told her what he had discovered, the signs
+of struggle in the snow, and the blood marks by the ashes of the
+camping-place.
+
+“Oh, what can we do?” Marion asked, slipping from the bunk and standing
+before her father. “Can we not follow her, and rescue her from her
+captors?”
+
+Before Hugo could reply, a bark from the dog, which had gone outside,
+startled him, causing him to bound to the door. For a second he
+listened intently, and when he turned around Marion was surprised at
+the fierce look in his eyes.
+
+“The Police!” he growled. “They’re coming up the trail! I must be off
+at once. They’ll look after you.”
+
+“Oh, don’t go,” Marion pleaded. “I don’t want to lose you. Why are you
+so afraid of the Police?”
+
+Hugo made no reply. He left the room, stepped into his snow-shoes,
+and ordering the dog to remain behind, plunged into a thicket of firs
+and jack-pines on the upper side of the cabin. His heart was filled
+with bitterness and hatred as he moved forward. For years he had been
+fleeing from the Police, ever hounded from place to place. Formerly
+it had not mattered so much, as he had refuges to which he could go.
+But now it was different. He wanted to stay with Marion and give up
+his endless wandering life. But it could not be. The Police were
+everywhere, tireless and alert.
+
+Ascending the hill which stretched along back of the cabin, he at
+length stopped at a spot where he could obtain a fairly good view of
+what was taking place down below. He saw the Police come to the trail
+leading to the cabin, where they paused to investigate. He could see
+Sergeant North advancing alone, so he knew that he would soon be with
+Marion. That she meant anything to him Hugo had not the least idea. Had
+he known of their love for each other, his troubles would have been
+greatly increased. Would Marion tell the sergeant of his whereabouts?
+What reason would she have for keeping silent?
+
+He thought of all this as he crouched there. Then, knowing that to
+remain longer would be of no avail, he slipped away, sped along the
+side of the hill, and crossed the main trail half a mile or more
+farther on. Far away beyond the valley he had another cabin, and there
+he decided to go for food and rest.
+
+Shaping his course by a distant mountain peak, he strode rapidly
+onward. Anger and disappointment raged in his bosom, as with great
+swinging strides he plowed through the snow down toward the valley
+below. He did not mind the cold, neither did the sombre forest have any
+terror for him. In fact, he would have welcomed another encounter with
+a pack of wolves. He was in a fighting mood and would have proven a
+stern antagonist to any living creature attempting to oppose him.
+
+Passing through a heavy tract of timber he came out into a region where
+the trees were small and scattered. Here the snow was deep and in
+places it had been whipped by the wind in long drifts. Part way across
+this desolate stretch he came suddenly upon a straggling trail which
+caused him to stop and examine it with the greatest attention. He could
+easily tell that it was made by a human being floundering wildly along.
+He looked first to the right and then to the left, wondering which way
+the traveller had gone.
+
+“What in time could anyone be doing here without snow-shoes?” he asked
+himself. “Why, the fellow must be crazy!”
+
+Then an illuminating idea flashed through his mind. It must be the
+half-breed girl! She had no doubt escaped from her captor, and in
+trying to get back to her camping-place had lost her way. But where was
+Bill? Why had he not followed her? Then he thought of the blood he had
+seen upon the snow by the cold ashes. Had the girl in some way wounded
+him? Perhaps she was armed, and had disabled the villain.
+
+Thinking thus, he decided that the girl had gone up the valley, and
+could not be very far away, judging by the depth of the snow, and the
+crookedness of her trail. Forgotten were his own troubles as he thought
+of the girl’s desperate situation. He must follow after and do what he
+could for her welfare, providing she were still alive.
+
+It did not take Hugo long to speed across the snowy waste, and reach
+a thicket of trees beyond. But at every stride his eyes were upon the
+marks in the snow. At times he saw where the girl had circled to the
+right and then to the left, showing plainly the bewildered state of her
+mind. He could not tell how long before she had passed that way. If but
+a few minutes, he might be able to save her. But if an hour, or even
+less, had elapsed, he feared he might be too late. But with feverish
+haste he pressed onward, entered the thicket, passed through and came
+out shortly on the opposite side. Here he halted and looked around. It
+was a region over which a fire had swept the year before, and forms of
+trees stood gaunt and bare. His eyes searched keenly for some moving
+object in the midst of the mass of upturned roots and fallen trees. But
+no sign of life could he see.
+
+He was about to continue his journey when a peculiar sound fell upon
+his ears. Listening intently, he found that it came from the left. It
+was like a human voice, yet he could not distinguish what was being
+said. He knew that it must be the girl, and his heart leaped with hope
+as he hurried forward. It took him only a few minutes to reach the
+place where Zell was lying upon the snow, still babbling and crooning
+about other days.
+
+“Hello, girl, what are you doing here?” Hugo demanded.
+
+But Zell gave no sign of recognition. She kept on talking, all the
+time clawing at the snow with her mittened hands. In an instant
+Hugo knew what was the trouble. The girl’s mind was affected by the
+experience through which she had recently passed. He stood for a few
+seconds looking upon her, while an overwhelming rage welled up in his
+heart against the villain responsible for her sad condition. He longed
+to track him, and bestow upon him the punishment he rightly deserved.
+But he had no time to think about such things now, as the girl demanded
+his immediate attention. He must do something for her welfare. But what
+could he do? He thought of his cabin on the hillside which he had left
+but a short time before. That was the place where he should take the
+girl, for Marion was there to attend to her. But to go back was out
+of the question. The Police were there. No, he must take the girl to
+his cabin beyond the valley toward which he was headed. It would be a
+difficult task, he was well aware, to carry the girl all that distance.
+But he knew that he could do it, for she was slight while he was very
+strong.
+
+He was about to stoop and lift her from the snow, when Zell tottered to
+her feet, and looked wildly around. Her eyes were wide with terror, and
+she pressed fearfully back from some imaginary foe.
+
+“Keep back! Keep back!” she shrieked. “Oh! Oh!”
+
+“Hush,” Hugo ordered, laying his hand upon her shoulder. “I won’t let
+anything harm you.”
+
+But the girl shrank aside at his touch, and beat the air with her hands.
+
+“The wolves! The wolves!” she cried. “They are upon me! Don’t let them
+get me!”
+
+To attempt to reason with the girl Hugo knew would be useless. He must
+get her to the cabin as speedily as possible. Stooping, he lifted
+her from the snow, and with her in his arms he started forward. For a
+few minutes Zell struggled and screamed so furiously that Hugo found
+it difficult to make much progress. But at length she quieted down,
+and lay panting in his arms. At first he did not mind her weight, but
+after he had travelled some distance he was forced to lay her down in
+the snow to relieve his aching arms. Then up and on again over that
+desolate waste.
+
+The dawn of a new day found Hugo about half a mile from his cabin.
+He was walking slowly now, for he was greatly exhausted. His coat he
+had taken off and wrapped it carefully around the girl. Even then he
+feared lest she should freeze, for the night was very cold. He even
+wondered at himself as he bore his burden up hills, across valleys, and
+through thick forests. He could not account for his sympathy for this
+poor demented half-breed girl. It was a feeling similar to that which
+had animated his soul when he had journeyed with the little child from
+the river to the hospital. Time and time again he had rescued sick
+and injured miners and prospectors, and had taken them to the nearest
+mining camp. He had done it because there was nothing else to do, and
+he could not leave them to perish. He had felt a certain degree of pity
+for them, but his heart had never been stirred in such a manner as
+when caring for the child and especially the girl. She had been deeply
+wronged, so perhaps that was the reason, for Hugo was ever the champion
+of the ill-treated.
+
+Slowly the moon faded off in the west as the weary man plodded onward.
+The sun rose above the mountain peaks, and skimmed low along the
+eastern horizon. Ere long Hugo could see the spot where nestled his
+little cabin, and with a great sigh of relief he climbed the hill,
+reached the door, pushed it open and entered. Upon a rude bunk on one
+side of the room he laid the helpless girl. Tired though he was, he at
+once started a fire in the little camping-stove, and prepared some food
+from a supply he always kept on hand. In a short time he had heated
+some stewed moose meat left from his last meal there, and forced a few
+spoonfuls between the girl’s firm-set teeth. It was all that he could
+do except cover her with two thick gray four-point blankets. He stood
+watching her as she lay there, now asleep, worn out with the fatigue
+of the night. What was he to do with her? he wondered. Where could he
+take her? That she needed more attention than he could give her, he was
+certain. But where could he go for assistance?
+
+Hugo thought of these things as he ate his supper, and afterwards
+sat smoking near the stove. It felt good to be back once more in the
+shelter of his own cabin, and but for his worry about the girl he would
+have felt quite happy. He mused upon the events of the day and wondered
+how Marion was getting along. He was quite sure that she would go away
+with the Police, but just where he had no idea. He did not feel so
+bitter now about being driven forth into the night. If he had remained
+there with Marion the half-breed girl would surely have perished.
+During his long sojourn in the wilderness Hugo had often puzzled over
+the mystery of life. Notwithstanding his spirit of rebellion for
+man-made law, deep down in his heart there was a profound respect for
+the unchanging law of Nature. As he journeyed along the trails; as he
+watched the western sky burnished with the glory of the setting sun; as
+he faced the furious storms of winter, or stood in some great silent
+valley, he had learned over and over again that there was no effect
+without some corresponding cause. He never could believe that things
+happened according to blind chance. Several times he had tried to force
+himself to that way of thinking, but all in vain. The great book spread
+out before him was so unmistakably clear that he could never remain in
+doubt for any length of time.
+
+So sitting now in the silent cabin he thought of the events which had
+led him to the side of that lost girl. At first appearance it seemed
+as if those two guardians of the North were the cause. But the more
+he thought about it, the more convinced he became that they were but
+instruments in the hands of a greater force, a Divine power overruling
+all things. What had led them so unerringly that night from the distant
+trail where he had seen them the day before? What had changed their
+course? He could arrive at only one conclusion, and it filled his soul
+with awe. It thrilled him, too, making him feel that he was surrounded
+by a sustaining influence working on his behalf. He suddenly thought of
+the night he had spent in the shack with the sleeping child, and the
+wonderful vision he had there beheld of the mysterious light, and the
+strange presence hovering over the little one.
+
+For some time Hugo sat there, thinking of these things. The
+transformation which had been going on in his soul of late was
+steadily gaining in strength. A new vision had come to him, and with
+the vision was a new desire. He felt that he was no longer merely
+Hugo, the trapper, the outcast, but an instrument in the hands of an
+unseen power. He looked toward the sleeping girl, and felt that in
+some way she was being used as an important instrument in the shaping
+of his life. And as he watched her, his future line of action became
+strangely clear, and a new sense of power possessed his entire being.
+
+Rising suddenly from his seat, he passed out of the cabin and laid
+his hands upon a small toboggan half-buried in the snow. This he
+carried into the room, and placed it near the stove. When it was well
+thawed out and dry, he began to repair the broken parts. With strong
+moose-hide thongs he deftly repaired the damages wrought by many a hard
+trail. He then laid the toboggan aside, stepped across the room and
+examined his scanty supply of provisions upon a rough shelf fastened to
+the wall.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+Confession
+
+
+After Hugo had left the cabin on the hillside in such an abrupt manner,
+Marion stood for a few seconds greatly concerned over his strange
+action. Then she hurried to the little window and tried to look out.
+But the frost was so thick upon the small panes of glass that she
+could see nothing. She listened intently, and in a few seconds heard
+the jingle of bells mingled with the short sharp yelps of dogs. Her
+father had spoken of the Police, but she had no idea that any members
+of the Force were anywhere near. Could it be possible that the one for
+whom she so earnestly longed had happened that way? Had he tracked her
+father to the little cabin? If so, what should she do? Would it be
+right for her to tell the sergeant that he had just left her?
+
+Marion had little time, however, to think of such things, for soon the
+door was pushed open and Sergeant North looked cautiously in. In his
+right hand he held a revolver as if expecting opposition. As he stood
+waiting for the owner of the cabin to approach, Marion stepped from the
+window and confronted him. So great was the sergeant’s surprise that he
+moved quickly back as if he had beheld a ghost. Then seeing who it was,
+he thrust his weapon into its holster, and springing forward, caught
+Marion in his arms. Their lips met and for a few heart-beats neither
+spoke.
+
+“My! this is a surprise,” North exclaimed as he drew back his head and
+looked into her beaming eyes. “I was expecting something altogether
+different from this.”
+
+“You were looking for trouble, from all appearances,” Marion laughingly
+replied. “I’m glad you have put that nasty thing away. I don’t like it.”
+
+“I was looking for trouble,” North confessed, “although, for once I’m
+glad I didn’t find it.”
+
+“But perhaps you have found it,” Marion bantered. “You have found me,
+and I’m certain that I’m going to be the greatest trouble of all.”
+
+“I’ll like you all the better, then,” and again North kissed her. “You
+cannot frighten me that way, remember. Facing trouble has been my lot
+for years, and I’ve not had too much of it yet.”
+
+“But this is a different kind, John. You are thinking only about men.
+Just wait and see what trouble one woman can make.”
+
+“Oh, I’m not worrying about that, darling,” the sergeant assured her
+with a hearty laugh. “It will be a change, anyway.”
+
+Rolfe’s voice outside speaking sharply to the dogs brought a serious
+expression to North’s face. Love for the moment had interfered with
+duty, and that was contrary to the strict code to which he was bound.
+
+“Where is the man who owns this cabin?” he suddenly asked.
+
+“I do not know,” Marion truthfully replied.
+
+“But he was here a short time ago, was he not?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And he brought you here?”
+
+“He did. But for him I do not know what I should have done. Tell me,
+have you seen Zell?”
+
+“Zell! Zell who?”
+
+“The half-breed girl who was travelling with me. We were camping by the
+side of the trail, and after the wolves had been shot, she went for
+some wood. But she never came back, and I am afraid she is either lost
+or something has carried her off.”
+
+“And did those wolves now lying dead down there attack you?” North
+asked in surprise.
+
+“They did. Oh, it was terrible!”
+
+“Who shot them?”
+
+“Hugo, the trapper. The wolves surrounded us, coming closer and closer
+all the time, and when they were about to spring upon us, some one
+began shooting at them. We could not see who it was, although I know
+now that it was the trapper. He carried me part way here.”
+
+“He did!” There was a peculiar expression in the sergeant’s eyes as he
+kept them fixed upon Marion’s face.
+
+“So it was Hugo,” he mused. “It’s too bad I wasn’t on hand sooner.”
+
+“Why, what would you have done, John?” Marion asked.
+
+“Rescued you, of course.”
+
+“Anything else?”
+
+“And captured Hugo.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“I want him. He’s the man I’m after, and I shall never give up until I
+get him.”
+
+“Why are you chasing him? What has he done?”
+
+“That’s what I want to find out. He is needed in connection with that
+murder near the C. D. Cut-Off.”
+
+“I don’t believe he did that,” Marion defended. “He may be rough, but
+he would never do such a terrible thing.”
+
+“Why has he acted in such a strange manner, then? Why didn’t he report
+the murder when he brought the child to the hospital? And why is he now
+running away?”
+
+“Hasn’t he been keeping away from the Police for years, long before
+that murder was committed? I often heard at Kynox that he dreaded the
+sight of a member of the Force. Haven’t you been after him for a long
+time?”
+
+“Why, no,” the sergeant denied. “We had no orders to capture him. We
+always looked upon him as a strange man, rough, and terrible in a
+fight, but otherwise perfectly harmless.”
+
+“You have orders to capture him now, though?”
+
+“In a way I have. He may be innocent, but he must tell what he knows
+about that murder.”
+
+“And you intend to follow him?”
+
+“I certainly do. But we cannot go just now, for the dogs are about
+played out. We travelled hard all last night, without rest or food. But
+here comes Tom. He’s almost starved, and so am I.”
+
+The constable was surprised and pleased to see Marion. He was very
+tired, and the presence of this woman gave a touch of home life to
+the cabin. Marion insisted upon preparing breakfast with some of the
+provisions the men had brought with them. There was no table in the
+room, so North and Rolfe squatted upon the floor, each holding his tin
+plate on his lap which Marion had filled with hot canned pork and beans.
+
+“There is not much style about this,” she laughingly remarked.
+
+“Style!” the constable exclaimed. “To have a woman serve us is all the
+style I want. Why, I’ve been cooking for months, and am heartily sick
+of it. I would give almost anything to be back in my own home, to see
+my mother working around the kitchen, and to hear her say, ‘Tom, will
+you have another piece of pie?’ I never fully appreciated her and her
+cooking until I came to this canned-food country.”
+
+Both Marion and the sergeant laughed heartily at the doleful expression
+upon Rolfe’s face.
+
+“Tom never wearies of telling about his mother’s wonderful cooking,”
+the sergeant explained. “I wish to goodness he had taken a few lessons
+from her before he left home.”
+
+“You eat all I cook, though,” the constable retorted.
+
+“I have to or starve. You won’t let me do any cooking, although I am in
+command.”
+
+“Self-preservation is a strong feature in my make-up, Miss Brisbane.
+The sergeant is teachable for all that, so with little tact you may be
+able to train him properly.”
+
+There was a fine spirit of comradeship between these two men, who
+spent so much time together on the long trails. They knew each other
+thoroughly, and their light banter was merely an offset to the
+difficulty and seriousness of their tasks. The commanding officer who
+had sent them forth together had made no mistake in his knowledge of
+men. Rolfe’s bright and buoyant disposition was an excellent balance to
+North’s stern and somewhat taciturn nature.
+
+When breakfast was over, Rolfe insisted upon washing the few dishes. He
+then spread out his blankets in one corner of the room, and stretched
+out his tired body. Marion and North sat near the stove side by side.
+For a while they were silent, rejoicing in each other’s presence, for
+silence is often more eloquent than many words. When at length Rolfe’s
+heavy breathing told them that he was asleep, North reached out, took
+Marion’s right hand in his, and pressed it firmly.
+
+“It is great to be here so near you,” he began. “You have been so much
+in my mind, and I was wondering how you were making out at Big Chance.
+Never for an instant did I picture you away out here. Tell me all about
+it.”
+
+“There really isn’t much to tell other than what you already know,”
+Marion replied. “I am so worried about that poor girl. I am sure that
+something has happened to her. And she was so anxious about her injured
+lover, Tim, and wanted to get to the missionary at The Gap for help as
+fast as possible.”
+
+“And so you came with her for company? Is that it?”
+
+“Oh, no,” Marion replied in a low voice. “I heard something at Big
+Chance which worried me, so I came along hoping to find you and to warn
+you.”
+
+“To warn me!” North exclaimed in surprise. “What for?”
+
+“Yes, to warn you against danger. I heard something about Bill, the
+Slugger. From what Zell told me, I fear that he intends to do you some
+harm. At first the girl hesitated about telling me anything. She was
+terribly afraid of Bill, and begged me not to say a word to you lest he
+should kill her.”
+
+The sergeant was all attention now, eager to hear more. He believed
+that the half-breed girl knew something which was most important for
+him to know.
+
+“Did she say anything about that murder near the C. D. Cut-Off?” he
+questioned.
+
+“Not directly. But when I asked her if Bill did it, she gave a start,
+and glanced anxiously toward the door. ‘I don’t dare to tell,’ she
+said. ‘Bill would kill me if I did.’”
+
+“Ah!” The sergeant was looking straight before him, and his eyes were
+merely two narrow slits. He was thinking rapidly, comprehending things
+which he had never suspected.
+
+“What else did the girl say?” he presently asked.
+
+“She begged me not to tell you for fear of what Bill might do. She
+said he was getting ready for a trip, and was almost frightened out of
+his wits while you were at Big Chance. Zell, it seems, was secretly
+watching him.”
+
+“Had she any idea where he was going?”
+
+“Yes. She was certain that he was planning to leave the country by way
+of The Gap, and cross the mountains.”
+
+“I see, I see,” North mused. “Yes, a most likely thing for him to do.
+My, this is important news to me, you have helped me wonderfully.”
+
+“And you will follow him?” There was a quiver in Marion’s voice. “Oh,
+do be careful! Zell said that Bill was such a bad man that he would
+stop at nothing, and would even shoot a member of the Force if he
+opposed him.”
+
+“And so you started out to warn me, eh?” North queried. “Did you
+realise the risks you were running? Did you stop to think what a trip
+to The Gap would mean at this time of the year? Why, it almost unnerves
+me to think of what might have happened to you. It is mighty lucky that
+you have come off so well.”
+
+“I am afraid that I didn’t think much about the risk, but acted merely
+upon the impulse of the moment when I agreed to come with Zell.”
+
+“And so you did all this for my sake?” North asked, pressing Marion’s
+hand a little firmer. “I am sure that no one else in the world would do
+such a thing for me.”
+
+“Love nerves the most timid, John, and transforms weakness into
+strength. But I have a confession to make now which no doubt will
+surprise you.”
+
+“Make all the confession you like, little one,” was the quiet reply.
+“What confession can you make that will interfere with our great love?”
+
+“I hope it won’t, anyway,” and Marion gave a deep sigh. North noted
+this and looked somewhat anxiously into her face.
+
+“Is it as serious as all that?” he asked. “Is it troubling you much?”
+
+“It is, and has been worrying me for days. How would you like to be
+told that you do not share all my love?”
+
+“Why, Marion, what do you mean?” North demanded. “Or are you only
+joking?”
+
+“No, I am not. I am deadly in earnest. I came out here not only for
+your sake but for the sake of another man as well.”
+
+“You did!” It was all that North could say as he dropped Marion’s hand
+and stared at her in amazement. “For God’s sake, who is it? Tell me
+quick.”
+
+“It is the man who brought me to this cabin.”
+
+“What! Hugo, the trapper?”
+
+“Yes, he is the man. I came to warn you not only against Bill, the
+Slugger, but to keep you and the trapper from harming each other. I did
+it because I love you both.”
+
+“Marion! Marion! What do you mean?” North demanded, rising to his feet
+in his agitation. “You love Hugo, the trapper, you say?”
+
+“I do, and I have a right to because he is my father.”
+
+At this confession, made in a low voice, North’s tense body relaxed.
+His eyes brightened, and a smile illumined his face. Sitting down again
+by Marion’s side, he tenderly placed his arm about her and drew her
+close.
+
+“So that was your trouble, darling, was it?” he asked. “Well, now that
+your confession is made, don’t worry any more. It is startling, I
+admit, and I know you will explain everything to me. I am so glad it
+was your father and not somebody else.”
+
+“Oh, I feel so relieved,” Marion replied, letting her head rest against
+her lover’s shoulder. There were tears in her eyes, and her body was
+trembling slightly. “I know it won’t make any difference to you in
+carrying out your orders, but it will help us to work together, will it
+not?”
+
+“Indeed it will,” was the emphatic reply. “Knowing what I do now about
+Bill, the Slugger, and also who Hugo is, certain difficulties have been
+removed. I see quite a clear trail ahead of me, thanks to your love and
+help.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 13
+
+The Rush of Doom
+
+
+The gigantic mass of the Golden Horn was a deceptive monster. From
+all quarters it formed an unerring guide to travellers on the trails.
+Its towering peak when touched by the sun was the admiration of all
+who beheld it. From a distance it often seemed like a fairy land,
+especially when sun and wavering clouds became entangled in a mesh
+of surpassing glory. But to veterans of the north, both Indians and
+whites, it was a demon to be feared when the snows of numerous winter
+storms lay thick upon its sides. Huge banks, steadily increasing,
+would cling for weeks, and sometimes months, in deep crevices. When
+at last the weight became so tremendous that the mass could hold no
+longer, it would slip from its place with the roar of thunder, and
+tear down the mountain side. At times it would start without any
+apparent reason, even in the finest of weather, carrying destruction
+to all before it. In former days the Indians looked upon the Golden
+Horn as the special abode of the Great Spirit. When he smiled in the
+glory of the sun-crowned summit they were happy, knowing that the god
+was pleased. But when he raged in the furious tempests, and hurled
+forth his avalanches of death-dealing snow, then he was angry, and
+they offered to him gifts of meat, furs, and blankets. As a rule they
+shunned in winter the mountain route between the Great River and The
+Gap, preferring the longer way beyond the valley. But some hardy
+souls, especially among the whites, made use of the dangerous trail,
+and laughed at the fears of others.
+
+The day of Marion’s confession in the little cabin the Golden Horn
+never looked more beautiful or benign. It seemed to smile its
+benediction on all sides, especially upon the lovers as they stood
+before the cabin ready to depart for The Gap, whither they had decided
+to go. All, excepting the sergeant, were rested, dinner had been eaten,
+and the dogs harnessed, with Zell’s four added to the team. With Marion
+on the sled surrounded by blankets, small bags of food, and a few
+cooking utensils, the command “mush on” was given, the whip in North’s
+hand snapped like a pistol shot, and they were off. How the dogs did
+race over the snow. They seemed to be conscious of the burden they
+bore, and the need for haste. Notwithstanding the sense of security
+with the strong men following, Marion’s heart was heavy. She was ever
+thinking of Zell, and her unbounded animation the day they had pulled
+out from Big Chance. Where was the girl now? she wondered. Was she
+lying somewhere upon the snow, silent in death? Perhaps she had fallen
+among wolves, or worse still into the hands of Bill, the Slugger. The
+sergeant had told her about that other camping-place he had found by
+the side of the trail, which had not been there the evening she and
+Zell passed that way. It could not have been made by her father, she
+was certain, because his own little cabin was so near. No, some one
+must have been following them, and had made off with the half-breed
+girl.
+
+North’s thoughts, too, were of a serious nature. He had many things
+to think about since his conversation with Marion in the cabin. What
+connection had her father with that murder? Why did he fear the Police
+if he were innocent? But he had been fleeing from them for years, so it
+seemed. And where was Bill, the Slugger? He strongly suspected him now
+in connection with that murder. It was most likely that he would try to
+escape by way of The Gap, for to try any other easterly route to reach
+the outside in the winter time would be madness. It was important,
+therefore, that he should reach The Gap ahead of the villain. And where
+was the half-breed girl? He needed her, for she evidently knew a great
+deal. Perhaps Bill would have her with him, and if so, he could take
+both together. For the present he would abandon his pursuit of Hugo,
+the trapper. He could get him later to tell what he knew after he had
+rounded up Bill and the girl.
+
+Steadily the dogs raced the low sun out of the heavens that short
+winter afternoon. Twilight tarried for a space, and then night
+enshrouded the land. And with the darkness came a halt, a camping-place
+was selected, and preparations made for the night. Soon, in a snug
+lean-to, Marion sat upon a robe spread over a bed of fir boughs. Rolfe
+attended to the cooking of the supper, and ere long the appetizing odor
+of frying moose-meat steak pervaded the air. He refused to allow Marion
+to assist, contending that he was going to prove to her the falseness
+of the sergeant’s charge.
+
+“He says I can’t cook,” he remarked as he turned the meat in the
+frying-pan. “But I’m going to let you judge for yourself, Miss
+Brisbane. That will be the best answer I can make.”
+
+“Oh, Tom is putting on his best frills now,” North retorted,
+straightening himself from his work of building another lean-to on the
+opposite side of the fire. “When he has a woman to cook for, he is
+mighty particular.”
+
+“It’s well that I am along, then,” Marion smilingly replied. “But you
+don’t look starved,” she reminded, glancing admiringly at the stalwart,
+handsome man before her.
+
+When Rolfe had the meat browned to his satisfaction, the “sourdough”
+potatoes fried, and the tea made, he called aloud, “Dinner all ready on
+the dining-car. That’s what an Indian guide I once had always used to
+say,” he explained. “If you can’t have certain things, it is often good
+to imagine that you have them. That was the way with my Indian.”
+
+After supper was over, the dogs were fed, and the constable gathered
+a supply of wood for the night. Then around the bright fire the three
+sat and talked for some time. It was not of the North they talked, but
+of bygone days in their old homes. It was a comfort to turn for a time
+from the cruel trail and the hardships of a desolate, snow-bound region
+to other scenes, glorified and made beautiful by the sacred fire of
+memory.
+
+At length they slept, Marion in her little lean-to, and the men in the
+other. Silence reigned over the land, broken only by the crackling of
+the fire or the snapping of a frost-stung tree. The dogs made no sound
+as they slept curled up close to the fire. Not a breath of wind stirred
+the most sensitive topmost points of the firs and jack-pines. The sky
+was cloudless, and the Northern Lights streamed and wavered in the
+heavens. Above towered the Golden Horn, silent and unseen.
+
+As the night wore on, the fire died down, until only a few glowing
+ashes remained. Sergeant North stirred in his sleep and drew his
+blanket closer around his body. Then he woke with a start, and sat bolt
+upright. What was that peculiar sound away to the left? He listened
+with straining ears, and in an instant he understood its meaning. It
+was a snow-slide, sweeping down upon them with a roar of thunder! With
+a yell that brought Rolfe to his feet, startled and dazed, North leaped
+across the dying embers, caught Marion in his arms, sprang back again,
+and staggered with his burden out upon the trail. No time had he to
+explain to the frightened woman the meaning of his strange action, for
+the roar of the onrushing avalanche was becoming louder every instant.
+He could hear the great trees above him crashing before the weight of
+the mighty demon. Could he escape with his precious burden? On and on
+he sped, a wild desperation adding strength to his efforts. Then in
+a twinkling he was hurled off his feet, and engulfed in a blinding,
+smothering mass of whirling snow. Away he was carried, clutching
+frantically the form in his arms. He was helpless to raise a hand of
+defense. He felt like a man carried onward by a mighty current, now
+sucking him down, then whirling him to the surface. The weight pressing
+upon him was terrible. It was crushing the life out of him. At times he
+could not breathe, and his brain reeled in his mad tumultuous rush. But
+still he clutched Marion’s body, fearful lest she should be torn from
+his arms. Then he felt a sudden freedom. The pressing weight relaxed,
+and the invigorating air filled his lungs. One more blinding swish and
+swirl, and he was hurled into something soft, where he lay half-dazed
+and panting.
+
+A low moan aroused him, and with an effort he struggled to his knees,
+and groped around. His hands touched Marion’s body. He had not lost
+her, but what had happened to her during that wild catapulting down the
+hillside? Perhaps she was badly injured. Weak though he was, he caught
+her in his arms, and lifted her partly from the snow which entangled
+her.
+
+“Marion! Marion! are you hurt?” he asked.
+
+Receiving no reply, a great fear swept over him. Was she dead! He put
+his ear close to her face and listened. She was breathing, but so low
+that he could hardly detect it. Then he straightened up, and looked
+anxiously around. What was he to do? How far had they been swept in
+the wild rush? The moon had already risen, so he could dimly see the
+great scar left by the snow-slide. It had plowed its way down through
+the forest, and broken trees lined the path the monster had taken. He
+shuddered as he thought of their narrow escape. But where was Rolfe?
+Had he been carried down to destruction? The idea was terrible. But
+he had no time now to spend upon vain lamentations. Marion needed
+assistance, and at once. It was no use, he well knew, to go back to
+the trail. Their camp had gone, so he might as well stay where he was.
+Looking around, he saw several dead trees. From these he broke off a
+number of dry branches, and brushing away the snow from the roots of a
+big fir, he lighted a fire. Scraping back more snow, he cut some boughs
+with his big pocket-knife, and then spread them near the cheerful
+blaze. Here he carried Marion and laid her tenderly down. He could
+see her face plainly now, and it was very white. How still she was!
+Again he stooped and listened. Then he kissed her, calling to her, and
+begging her to speak to him.
+
+In a few minutes he had his reward, for with a weary sigh, Marion
+opened her eyes and looked absently into his face.
+
+“Marion! Marion!” he cried. “Don’t you know me? It is your own John.
+Speak to me, and tell me if you are hurt.”
+
+Slowly the girl’s senses returned. Seeing who it was bending over her,
+a slight smile overspread her face, and her lips moved, although she
+uttered no sound.
+
+Leaving her, North piled more sticks upon the fire. He next cut down an
+extra supply of boughs, with which he fashioned a cozy little lean-to
+about his loved one. For a while she paid no heed to what he was doing.
+Her eyes, however, followed his movements, and at last she called
+faintly to him. With a bound the sergeant was at her side, kneeling
+upon the robe and bending tenderly over her.
+
+“Where am I?” Marion asked.
+
+“Right here with me,” North replied. “You are safe.”
+
+“What happened, John? I thought the world had come to an end.”
+
+“It was a snow-slide. But we were wonderfully delivered, just how I do
+not know now. Are you hurt, dear?”
+
+“No, I guess not. I am only very weak. But where is the constable?”
+
+Then seeing the anxious expression which swept over the sergeant’s
+face, she quickly continued: “Oh, I know. He was carried away. Isn’t it
+terrible!”
+
+“It certainly is, Marion. I am afraid the poor fellow was swept down
+in that wild rush. It was almost a miracle that we escaped as we did.
+Another second and it would have been too late.”
+
+For a few heart-beats there was silence, their minds filled with such
+thoughts which only come to people who have stood face to face with
+death.
+
+“What are we to do, John?” Marion at length asked. “I suppose the dogs
+were lost, too, as well as the camping outfit.”
+
+“Everything is gone, no doubt,” was the quiet reply. “In all my
+experience on the trails I have never run up against anything like
+this. Snow-slides are common on the mountain side, but hitherto I have
+always managed to escape them.”
+
+“And to think that I should be with you, John, to add to your trouble.”
+
+“Don’t, don’t say that, darling,” North pleaded, as he kissed her upon
+the lips, and was pleased to see the color flood her cheeks. “You will
+be a help to me instead of a hindrance. We shall get out of this, all
+right.”
+
+Notwithstanding the sergeant’s words of encouragement, he fully
+realised the seriousness of their situation. Twenty miles from The
+Gap, with no food and no dogs, and with a woman unaccustomed to the
+trail made their plight appalling. How helpless they were, mere pigmies
+in that vast wilderness of forest, snow, and stinging cold. Then, in
+addition to all these, should a storm sweep upon them, their case would
+be hopeless.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 14
+
+Life for Life
+
+
+The sergeant picked up a piece of wood and was about to throw it on
+the fire, when a shout in the direction of the trail arrested his
+attention. He dropped the stick, stared in amazement, his heart beating
+fast. At first he thought he must have been mistaken, but when the
+shout was repeated he answered with a whoop that echoed through the
+forest’s silent reaches. Ere long he heard the sound of someone plowing
+his way through the snow, straight toward him. In a few minutes Rolfe
+appeared, his face very white, except one cheek which was streaked with
+blood, and his clothes torn. For an instant he stared first at the
+sergeant and then at Marion, who had risen to a sitting position. Then
+overcome by weakness and excitement, he dropped upon the snow near the
+fire. His hands clawed the air, as if warding off some invisible foe.
+His eyes were big with terror. North stepped to his side and laid a
+firm hand upon his shoulder.
+
+“Come, buck up, old man,” he ordered. “You’re all right.”
+
+That touch and the friendly word of cheer brought Rolfe to his senses.
+The wild expression left his eyes, and his uplifted hands dropped.
+
+“Lord, it was awful!” he moaned. “It was hell let loose.”
+
+Then he looked over at Marion.
+
+“Excuse me, Miss Brisbane,” he apologized. “But I am hardly myself
+after what I have just gone through. I am mighty glad, though, to find
+you and the sergeant safe. How in the world did you escape? I was sure
+that you were buried down there in the valley.”
+
+“We do not know how we escaped,” Marion replied, while a tremor shook
+her body. “The Lord must have been with us, I guess. But we got off
+better than you did. Something has happened to you. There is blood upon
+your face.”
+
+“Oh, it’s nothing, I assure you, Miss Brisbane. Something hit me a
+glancing blow, a broken limb of a tree, I think, as I was struggling
+out of the clutch of that monster. I was only a few steps behind you,
+and how I got clear I have no idea. It was a terrible fight, and I was
+nearly smothered. Then the first thing I knew I was wedged up against
+a tree till I thought every bone in my body was being crushed. I lost
+consciousness and when I came to everything was still, and I was lying
+at the foot of a big fir with snow all around me. I was sure that you
+two were gone and that I alone was saved.”
+
+“Why did you shout if you thought we were lost?” North asked.
+
+“I hardly know why, except that I was half crazy and just whooped.
+I guess I was just like an infant crying in the night, and with no
+language but a cry. I must have done it unconsciously.”
+
+“It was mighty lucky you did, Rolfe, for I never thought of looking for
+you up there. But I don’t think you can help us out any. We’re in a bad
+fix, with not a scrap of food.”
+
+“I know it,” the constable replied. “One of us will have to foot it, I
+guess, to The Gap for grub. There’s nothing here. We might get a few
+rabbits or ptarmigan. Now, if I had my rifle, I might get a moose, for
+they’re quite thick down there in the valley along that wild meadow.
+But what can one do with a revolver, for that’s all I have left.”
+
+“Same here,” North replied. “I was afraid I had lost mine but it’s all
+right. Now, look, something’s got to be done at once if we’re going to
+have any breakfast. You stay here with Marion and keep the fire going.
+I’m anxious to see what pranks that snow-slide has cut up where it
+stopped. I have heard men tell queer stories about such things, but
+always believed they were lying. I hope to goodness they weren’t.”
+
+“Will you be gone long, John?” Marion anxiously asked. “Don’t run any
+risk.”
+
+“There is no danger,” North assured. “It should not take me many
+minutes. I hope to get something for breakfast.”
+
+The sergeant made his way to the great scar caused by the snow-slide,
+and found easy walking here. It did not take him long to descend the
+steep hill, the big moon making the night almost as bright as day. He
+was astonished at the havoc which had been wrought by the descending
+monster. Large trees had been snapped like pipe stems before the
+terrific impact of thousands of tons of snow and ice, and hurled in a
+confused and gigantic mass down into the valley. He followed the course
+until he came to the level where the avalanche had been stayed. When he
+could proceed no farther on the clean-swept way, he plunged into the
+snow to the right and began to circle the heaped-up mass. He kept a
+sharp lookout, hoping to find some portion of the camping outfit. But
+nothing could he see. Dogs, food, sleds and provisions had evidently
+been buried far out of sight.
+
+After he had gone some distance, surprised at the width of the slide,
+he decided to return. The snow was deep and the travelling difficult.
+There was nothing that he could see except snow and tangled masses
+of trees. He stopped and looked keenly in every direction, but not
+a sign of bird or animal could he see. He knew that farther away he
+might come across something, but he had not the strength to battle for
+any distance through such deep snow. Sergeant North was not easily
+discouraged, but a hopeless feeling now smote his heart. What was he
+to do? How could he or Rolfe ever reach The Gap without snow-shoes?
+It would take days to go and return with food, but if overtaken by
+a storm, the journey would be impossible. Marion could not make the
+journey, he was well aware, for if a strong man accustomed to the
+trails would find the task an Herculean one, what could a frail woman
+do? There was Hugo’s cabin to which they might return. But that, too,
+was a long way back, and they would be but little better off when they
+got there, as far as food was concerned.
+
+He thought, too, of the valuable time he was losing. Bill, the Slugger,
+would reach The Gap and escape to the mountains far beyond the strong
+arm of the law. What would his commanding officer think of him? He knew
+the stern code of the Force and what was expected of every member, and
+here he was tricked by circumstances over which he had no control.
+
+He was about to retrace his steps when a slight noise just ahead
+arrested his attention. He whipped his revolver from its holster, and
+peered forward, keenly alert. For a few seconds he could see nothing.
+Then he noticed a slight movement in the snow near a mass of tangled
+trees. Cautiously advancing, he ere long saw something which thrilled
+his whole being. It was a moose, entrapped in the very forefront of
+the avalanche, and feebly threshing its great antlers in its death
+struggle. Drawing nearer, North saw that the animal’s hinder parts were
+caught and crushed beneath a heavy tree while the rest of its body
+was free. He knew now that what he had been told was no fiction, that
+moose, bear, deer, and lesser animals were sometimes overwhelmed as
+they sped before the terror of the mountains. This animal had evidently
+been caught off guard near where the snow-slide had stopped. That the
+brute had made a desperate fight was most apparent, and as North stood
+watching its now feeble efforts a feeling of pity welled up in his
+heart for this unfortunate creature. But what was death to one was life
+to others, so drawing forth his sheath-knife, he at once put the animal
+out of misery.
+
+This sudden and unexpected incident filled North with renewed hope.
+There before him was food to last for several days. And the skin, which
+could be cut into long strips, what possibilities lay in that! He did
+not attempt to remove the tree from the body, knowing how useless that
+would be. But after the moose had bled freely, with his sharp knife
+he laid back a portion of the skin and cut off several slices of the
+warm, quivering flesh. This took him but a few minutes, and he then
+made his way back to his companions, his heart overflowing with joy and
+thankfulness.
+
+This unexpected help in time of extremity seemed to Marion nothing else
+than providential.
+
+“I was always interested in that story of Elijah in the wilderness,”
+she remarked as she watched the sergeant broiling the meat over
+several hot coals. “Although I never really doubted that the Lord sent
+those ravens to feed him, yet in some way it always appeared to me like
+a fairy tale. But now I know that He does care, and will supply our
+needs.”
+
+“I guess you’re right, Miss Brisbane,” Rolfe agreed, as he squatted
+before the fire. “From the way we have been helped it does look
+reasonable. Now, if ravens, or some other birds would come along and
+leave us a little salt to season that meat, and a few loaves of bread,
+it would add a great finishing touch to the whole affair.”
+
+“You are too moderate in your wish,” Marion smilingly replied. “Why
+don’t you wish for a roast turkey, with all the fixings, and a big
+plum-pudding while you are about it?”
+
+“Yes, and oranges, pears, cigars, and such things,” North retorted.
+“That’s the trouble with you, Tom, you’re never satisfied. Anyway,
+there’s nothing but this meat for breakfast without any fixings, so
+you’ve got to make the most of it.”
+
+An hour later the three of them started to bring in a supply of moose
+meat. Marion, who was now fully recovered, was determined to go, too,
+and she enjoyed the tramp. When she saw the huge mass of snow and
+tangled trees she gave a cry of amazement. But when she beheld the body
+of the moose, her face became very pale.
+
+“Isn’t it terrible!” she gasped. “I thought I was accustomed to
+horrible sights, seeing so many in the hospitals, but this is somehow
+different. How that poor animal must have struggled to free itself.
+Nature can be so gentle and beautiful at times, and again so stern and
+merciless.”
+
+“I hate it all,” North replied as he drew forth his knife, and set to
+work upon the moose. “Nature, as you call it, is always upsetting one’s
+plans. Look what a mess it has got us into here.”
+
+“Master Tennyson said,” Rolfe reminded,
+
+  “‘I curse not nature, no, nor death,
+    For nothing is that errs from law.’”
+
+“Poetry again!” the sergeant growled. “I thought you were completely
+cured. Well, I guess Master Tennyson would have done some cursing if he
+had lived in a country such as this. Here, hold back this leg while I
+strip off the hide.”
+
+Marion watched the men until their task was completed. They then
+returned to their camping-place, carrying with them the skin of the
+moose, and large pieces of meat. The fire was replenished, and the
+three sat down to rest.
+
+“We must get to The Gap as soon as possible,” the sergeant began. “And
+to do so, we need snow-shoes. Tom, you get to work and cut up that skin
+into long strips as narrow as you can. I am going to look for some
+suitable wood. We shall have to manufacture our own outfit.”
+
+“What! make snow-shoes?” the constable asked in surprise.
+
+“Certainly. They will be clumsy affairs, I admit, but they will serve
+our purpose. Haven’t I told you how I made a pair years ago when my
+dogs made a meal of the sinews?”
+
+“But you had the frames left, sergeant.”
+
+“That’s true. But as I haven’t frames now, I am going to make them.
+I wish to goodness I had an axe. It is difficult to do anything with
+nothing but a knife. Anyway, it can’t be helped, so I must make the
+best of it.”
+
+The sergeant was gone for over half an hour, and when he returned he
+was carrying with him a bundle of stout withes, consisting of alders
+and birch limbs. These he threw down near the fire and held his hands
+close to the genial heat. He looked at Marion, who was sitting upon
+the fir boughs, holding one end of a strip of the moose hide which
+the constable was carefully slicing. She was interested in her work,
+glad to be of some use. North thought that he never saw her look more
+beautiful, and when she lifted her head and saw the expression of
+admiration in the sergeant’s eyes, her cheeks took on a richer hue.
+
+“This life certainly agrees with you,” he remarked. “You don’t seem to
+mind the cold.”
+
+“Not while I have something to do,” was the reply. “I am glad to be
+able to help a little.”
+
+North lost no time, but began at once making the frames for the
+snow-shoes. He worked with feverish haste, for every minute was
+precious. When Marion was not busy helping with the cutting of the
+skin, she sat watching him as he peeled the sticks, bent each into the
+proper shape, fastened the two ends together, set in the cross-bars,
+and lashed them securely to the frame. The weaving of the web was a
+more difficult task, but the sergeant showed Marion how it should be
+done, and she proved an apt pupil.
+
+“You are to weave your own,” he informed her, “while Tom and I do ours.
+Let us see who will be done first.”
+
+Then the friendly rivalry began, which was only interrupted as they
+rested, prepared, and ate some more broiled moose meat. This simple
+repast ended, they continued their work. Marion was the first to
+finish, and triumphantly she held up her snow-shoes for inspection.
+They were but poor clumsy affairs, yet they were to serve as means of
+deliverance.
+
+Although contending with many difficulties, there was never one word
+of complaint uttered. The cold was intense, which even the fire could
+not overcome. Huddled as close as possible to the heat, their faces
+would be hot while their backs were chilled. No blankets had they to
+wrap about their bodies. Fir boughs were their only protection, and
+an abundance of these the men banked up around Marion, and then made
+a shelter for themselves on the opposite side of the fire. That night
+while the sergeant worked constructing a little rude toboggan out of a
+number of sticks and a portion of the frozen moose skin, Rolfe repeated
+numerous poems, to which Marion listened with much interest. Piece
+after piece he recited, grave, stirring and gay.
+
+“Poetry has always been my reserve power,” he explained. “When I get
+downhearted, or in a tight place, a noble poem stirs me like martial
+music. There are two, especially, which have never failed me yet. The
+first is Newbolt’s ‘Play up, play up, and play the game.’ The other
+is Henley’s masterpiece, ‘The Captain.’ No doubt you know it, Miss
+Brisbane, but just listen to these words:
+
+  “‘Out of the night that covers me,
+    Black as the pit from pole to pole,
+    I thank whatever gods there be
+    For my unconquerable soul.
+
+    In the fell clutch of circumstance,
+    I have not winced nor cried aloud,
+    Beneath the bludgeonings of fate,
+    My head is bloody, but unbowed.’”
+
+“Now, wouldn’t that stir the most discouraged? Doesn’t it arouse one,
+make him stand up, face defeat, fight, and win? That is what it has
+done to me over and over again. Now, just listen to this last verse:
+
+  “‘It matters not how strait the gate,
+    How charged with punishment the scroll,
+    I am the master of my fate,
+    I am the Captain of my soul.’”
+
+Upon Rolfe’s face was an expression of great determination as he ended,
+and his glowing eyes were looking straight before him. To him the words
+were wonderfully real and effective. Marion, too, felt their spell, and
+even the heart of the matter-of-fact sergeant experienced a strange
+thrill.
+
+“Tom, I never appreciated your poetry before,” the latter candidly
+confessed. “To me it was all doggerel, but I see it in a different
+light now. I am really glad to see that you have broken out again after
+your unusually long silence.”
+
+The constable’s face beamed with pleasure, and he gave a sigh of relief.
+
+“Good for you, sergeant!” he replied. “Now you can understand why
+General Wolfe recited Gray’s ‘Elegy in a Country Churchyard’ as he
+moved up the river to attack Quebec. We have often argued about that,
+and you always contended it was all nonsense. I am glad that you see
+light at last.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 15
+
+The Truce of the Storm
+
+
+Under the most favourable circumstances a northern trail in the
+dead winter is a test of endurance. There is the stinging cold, the
+weary tread hour after hour, up hill and down, with no prospect
+of a hot supper waiting at the end of the day’s march. It is hard
+and discouraging enough then, but how much more difficult when the
+snow-shoes are merely rough, heavy makeshifts, the webs too loose to
+support the feet in a proper manner, and the frames occasionally giving
+way beneath the strain. In addition to all this and the weariness, to
+have little to eat, and no comfortable resting place at night.
+
+Such were the conditions under which the three wayfarers plodded slowly
+onward the next day. North and Rolfe found it hard, but Marion a great
+deal harder. The snow-shoes which had caused her so much pride seemed
+like great clogs to her feet. She longed to throw them aside, but
+that was out of the question. So wearily she struggled forward, doing
+her best to keep up with the men, who were even then travelling at a
+snail’s pace for her sake. The sergeant longed to help her, but as they
+were moving in Indian file he could do little to assist. Several times
+he tried to walk by her side, holding her arm and letting her lean on
+him for support. But the snow was too deep, and each time he floundered
+around on his wretched snow-shoes, and was always glad to get back on
+the trail again.
+
+That day they were able to make only a few miles, and camped early,
+greatly fatigued. Once more little brush shelters were made, their meat
+supper eaten, after which they gathered close to the fire for warmth.
+The sergeant was anxious about Marion. She looked more weary than he
+had ever seen her before. But she assured him that she was feeling
+fine, only tired, that was all. In the morning she would be once more
+ready for the trail.
+
+“I have been trying Mr. Rolfe’s plan all day,” she said, “and have been
+repeating verses which I learned years ago, especially old familiar
+hymns. It was certainly a great help. I thought of what the Bishop of
+the Yukon once told me. You remember how he and another man nearly lost
+their lives in crossing the mountains from Fort McPherson. When they
+were in terrible straits, not knowing where they were, worn to shadows,
+and forced to eat their muck-lucks to keep life in their bodies, the
+Bishop was greatly encouraged by the words of the hymn ‘Go labour on,
+spend and be spent.’ You can add the Bishop’s testimony and mine, Mr.
+Rolfe, to support your claim of the influence of poetry.”
+
+“Indeed I shall, Miss Brisbane,” the constable declared. “When I go
+outside, if I ever live to get there, I am going to give a lecture on
+the influence of poetry. As examples, I shall relate the experiences of
+you, the Bishop, and General Wolfe, as well as my own.”
+
+“What about you, John?” Marion asked, turning to the sergeant, who was
+seated by her side. “Haven’t you something to add to such imposing
+witnesses?”
+
+“I am afraid not,” was the quiet reply. “The only poetry I ever
+learned was ‘God save the King,’ and but one verse of that.”
+
+“Ugh! that isn’t poetry, sergeant,” Rolfe retorted. “That’s nothing but
+doggerel.”
+
+“It may be as you say, Tom, but there’s something in it, for all that,
+which stirs the heart. The singing of that kept the spirit of loyalty
+alive in this country, and sent hundreds of thousands of men overseas
+during the Great War. It sent me, anyway, and brought me back again to
+the north to serve the King when the war was over. You may read and
+quote poetry all you like, Tom, but the finest poetry, to my way of
+thinking, is found in worthy deeds of service. I can’t sing a note of
+the National Anthem, and yet, perhaps, my work up here in trying to
+carry out true British justice is worth something. I hope so, at any
+rate.”
+
+The constable was surprised at this outburst, for the sergeant was a
+man of few words. He made no comment, however, but rose to his feet
+and piled more wood upon the fire. What his thoughts were, he kept
+to himself as he sat and watched the leaping flames and the sparks
+dancing and circling up into the darkness. Marion and North sat upon
+the opposite side near each other. Occasionally he glanced toward
+them as they conversed together in low tones. A longing was entering
+his own heart for the love and confidence of such a woman as Marion
+Brisbane. Hitherto, he had thought little about it, being content with
+his wandering life. But now he felt indescribably lonely. He seized a
+stick and stirred the fire, which did not at all need stirring. Then
+his pent-up feelings had to be given expression. He again rose to his
+feet, and looking over at his companions began:
+
+  “’Tis sweet to hear the watch-dogs’ honest bark
+   Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home,
+   ’Tis sweet to know an eye will mark our coming,
+   And grow brighter when we come.”
+
+“Getting sentimental, Tom, eh?” the sergeant queried.
+
+“Why shouldn’t I?” was the retort. “It’s catching, I guess.”
+
+The night was a hard one. The men took turns keeping the fire going,
+but they slept little, owing to the cold. Marion determined to take her
+share in watching, and the men did not oppose her wish. But when at
+last, through extreme weariness, she did fall asleep, North and Rolfe
+took off their short heavy coats, and laid them over her body, the same
+as they had done the night before. Upon waking, she had chided them for
+doing such a thing, and told them that they must not again run any risk
+for her sake. The men had merely smiled, and remained silent.
+
+In the morning Marion felt very stiff and sore from the unaccustomed
+exertions of the previous day. She said nothing, however, as they
+started once more upon the trail. But she could not deceive the
+sergeant, and he felt greatly worried. He knew that she could not
+travel far that day, only a few miles at the most. Something had to be
+done, and he turned over in his mind the best course to pursue. For a
+time he could not decide, but when Rolfe began to limp painfully, owing
+to an attack of snow-shoe cramp, he hesitated no longer.
+
+“Look here,” he began, “we shall never reach The Gap at the pace we are
+going, and now that Tom is knocked out, matters are worse than ever.
+You two must camp here while I go for assistance. I can reach The Gap
+before night, round up a team of dogs and come back early to-morrow.”
+
+Marion’s face turned pale at the suggestion, although she said nothing.
+Rolfe knew that the sergeant was right, although he felt badly at being
+forced to give up.
+
+“‘Farewell! a long farewell to all my greatness!’” he quoted.
+
+“‘This is the state of man----’”
+
+“Never mind about your greatness,” the sergeant interrupted. “We know
+all about that, and also your state at the present time. Get to work
+at once and build as good a shelter as you can. There’s a fine clump
+of trees right over there,” and he motioned to the left. “I’m sorry I
+can’t help you.”
+
+He then turned to Marion, who was standing silently near.
+
+“Tom will look after you,” he told her. “Except for his poetry, he is
+all right. He needs to be brought back to earth occasionally, that’s
+all.”
+
+He then stooped and kissed her. For a few seconds she clung to him, and
+there were tears in her eyes.
+
+“Take care of yourself, John,” she said, “I am sorry to give you so
+much trouble. But for me, you both would be at The Gap by this time.
+But, there, I must not detain you any longer.”
+
+Hour after hour North moved on his way, up hill and down, through
+thick woods and across barren regions. He was greatly hampered by his
+miserable snow-shoes. They lacked the spring and buoyancy of the ones
+he had lost. Often they clogged with snow, and he could not tell at
+what minute they might go to pieces. He was forced to use the greatest
+care as he well knew how much depended upon his getting to The Gap
+for assistance. Should anything happen to him, then Marion and the
+constable would both perish.
+
+For some time he had been anxiously watching the sky, which was a dull
+leaden color. He knew that a storm was not far away, and already the
+wind was wailing among the trees. He hoped to outrace it, and if he
+could cross a bad desolate tract of burnt land which he knew was ahead
+before the tempest burst, he would feel quite secure. A storm in the
+mountains was a thing to be dreaded. The weather had been fine of late,
+exceptionally so, but he knew that it could not continue. The storm was
+overdue, and when it did come, it was likely to be a most furious one.
+
+Ere long fine particles of snow filled the air, and flecked his body.
+They soon grew thicker, and by the time he had reached the edge of the
+burnt region the storm was most menacing. He looked anxiously out into
+the open where the snow, driven by the now unimpeded wind, resembled
+the levelled lances of thousands of mystic legions of the north. To
+go back he must not. His only course was forward, with the hope that
+he might reach the opposite side before the trail became completely
+obliterated.
+
+Removing a mass of snow from his snow-shoes, and drawing his cap more
+firmly about his face, North left the shelter of the forest and plunged
+out into the driving storm. With head bent, and eyes fixed upon the
+rapidly disappearing trail, he pressed steadily forward. It was a
+hard struggle, and the cold was intense, piercing his body. At length
+his progress became slower. His feet would slip provokingly off the
+snow-shoes, and at times he found himself floundering around in the
+deep snow, and only regaining the trail with considerable difficulty.
+Often, too, he was forced to pause for breath, and to beat his hands
+together in order to get some warmth into his numbed fingers. He
+realised the seriousness of his situation, but he was determined not to
+give up. He must reach the forest beyond. Marion’s life depended upon
+his efforts, and he must not fail her. Again he struggled back upon the
+trail from which he had wandered. Once more he peered keenly ahead,
+hoping to catch sight of the friendly trees. But everything was blotted
+from view, and his eyes ached from the lashing of the cruel snow.
+
+At length he felt that he could go no farther. He was becoming
+bewildered. The roar of the wind sounded like a demon hurling itself
+upon him. He groped for the trail like a blind man. He was almost
+waist-deep in the snow, and the snow-shoes were off his feet. His
+body was becoming numb. But he would not give up. He would fight the
+monster, and win out. With another frantic effort he threw himself
+forward, his hands reaching out. Then he lifted up his voice in one
+great cry of despair, the first that had ever come from his lips in all
+his years of service in the Force.
+
+And as he stood there, his face turned appealingly toward the forest,
+the form of a man bending to the wind suddenly hove in sight. So
+unexpected was this appearance that the sergeant gave a gasp of
+surprise. The man seemed more than human as he advanced with long
+strides. The storm whipping his great body appeared not to impede him
+in the least. He was about to pass when North hailed him.
+
+“Help! help!” he cried.
+
+The traveller stopped short, swung quickly around, rubbed the snow from
+his eyes, and peered keenly in the direction from which the sound had
+come. Instantly North recognised Hugo, the trapper, and unconsciously
+his numbed right hand groped for his revolver. Hugo, too, recognised
+the sergeant, and noticing the movement of his hand, he gave a roar of
+warning.
+
+“Drop that,” he ordered. “Heavens! man, are you crazy? This is no time
+or place to pull a gun. What could you do against me? I guess you’d
+better wait. What’s wrong, anyway?”
+
+“I’m all in,” was the reply.
+
+“H’m, you look it,” Hugo growled, as he stepped closer. “All in but
+your spirit, eh? Man, I like your pluck. Here, take my hand, and I’ll
+lift you out of that hole.”
+
+In another minute North was standing upon the trail, and then the two
+men faced each other. The wind swirled the snow in furious gusts about
+their bodies, at times almost hiding each other from view. North was
+the first to speak.
+
+“You are my prisoner,” he said. “I order you to surrender.”
+
+Hugo’s only reply was to throw back his head, and emit a roar of
+laughter.
+
+“Do you think I am joking?” the sergeant sternly asked. “I am on duty,
+remember, so your best plan is to obey.”
+
+“Surrender! what am I to surrender, man? I’m here, but what are you
+going to do with me? From all appearances you had better surrender to
+me, and let me get you out of this. Let us stop this fooling and settle
+down to business.”
+
+“And you won’t fight?” North asked in surprise.
+
+Hugo reached out, laid a heavy hand upon the sergeant’s shoulder, and
+shook him.
+
+“Wake up,” he ordered. “What’s the matter with you? Do you realize
+where you are? Fight! I’m not going to fight a half-crazed man.”
+
+The rough shake and the plain words brought North to his senses. He
+looked around for an instant, and then his eyes sought his rescuer’s
+face.
+
+“Forgive me,” he said. “But I guess I have been a little off my base.
+And no wonder. I’ve been in hell.”
+
+“True to your orders, for all that, eh?” Hugo queried. “Lost, half
+frozen, daft, and yet hanging on like a bulldog. Lord! is it any wonder
+that the Force is what it is when it contains men like you? But tell
+me, where is my daughter?”
+
+“Marion?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Back there with Constable Rolfe. I was on my way to The Gap for aid
+when this storm knocked me out. Will you help me?”
+
+“Is it a truce, then?” Hugo asked.
+
+“A truce to what?”
+
+“To our enmity. We are enemies, so it seems. But we must be friends for
+a time to save my daughter.”
+
+“Yes, and to save the girl I love, and who has promised to be my wife,”
+the sergeant replied.
+
+Hugo’s face darkened and a terrible temptation smote his heart. It was
+only for an instant, however, and then reaching out, he seized North’s
+mittened hand.
+
+“It is well,” he simply said. “Let it be the truce of the storm.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 16
+
+The Man of the Gap
+
+
+“The gap” is a natural opening between the Yukon River region on the
+east and the great mountains on the west. In fact, it is the one
+door through which people pass, Indians and whites alike, on mining,
+trading, or any other business. In former days native warriors passed
+this way to wage war upon some distant tribe. It was a regular
+Thermopylæe where a few men could hold an entire army at bay. Two
+huge shoulders of rocks, devoid of any vegetation, oppose each other.
+Through The Gap flows a little stream, draining a lake miles away.
+By the side of this runs the trail, worn deep by the tread of many
+feet, not only of human beings, but of moose, deer, bear, and other
+animals of the north. Just within The Gap on the Eastward side is a
+remarkable valley, several acres in extent, scooped, so it seems, out
+of the mountains. This is completely sheltered from every wind which
+blows, and had always formed a favorite camping-ground for Indians. It
+is a most desirable place, for apart from the shelter it affords from
+storms and enemies, mountain sheep and other game are abundant, while
+the little stream and various lakes teem with fish, especially the King
+Salmon.
+
+It was, therefore, but natural that Charles Norris, a clergyman sent
+out by a great English Missionary Society, should choose this spot as
+the strategic point in his work among the Indians. For long years he
+and his faithful wife laboured among the tribes of the wandering foot.
+They won them from heathen ways, and the influence of the Medicine Men.
+A log church was built, and in due time a school for the children. A
+linguist of no mean ability, Mr. Norris learned the native tongue, and
+gave the Indians hymns, prayers, and portions of Scripture in their
+own language. It was a happy community, uncontaminated by any of the
+degenerating influences of so-called civilisation. When the Indians
+returned from the hills, the church and mission house were always
+filled with earnest seekers after the truth, and the hearts of the
+missionaries overflowed with thankfulness to Him who had wrought such
+wonders through their humble efforts.
+
+Often they would look upon the great mountains, and in their majesty
+and surrounding strength they would see the encompassing arms of the
+Almighty. To them The Gap Mission was what Jerusalem was to the people
+of Hebrew days. Their eyes would kindle and their hearts thrill as they
+dwelt upon the words of the ancient poet:
+
+  “As the mountains are about Jerusalem,
+   So the Lord is round about His people.”
+
+Hardly a morning passed that Charles Norris did not stand at the door
+of his house and say, either silently or aloud:
+
+  “‘I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,
+    From whence cometh my help.’”
+
+It was a great day for the missionaries and Indians alike when the
+first copies containing hymns, prayers, and portions of Scripture
+reached them from England. Already there were leaders trained to
+read, and these small books were carried by the natives to their
+hunting-grounds. There night after night, where the two or three
+gathered together, the leader would read the wonderful words contained
+in the little manual. He would then repeat a number of prayers, and
+all would join in singing some favourite hymn. To the missionaries it
+seemed as if the Pentecostal fire had really come down upon those lost
+sheep of the Rocky Mountains.
+
+But alas! great changes ere long took place. This happy state of
+affairs was not destined to endure. As the serpent entered the Garden
+of Eden and destroyed its peaceful repose, so it was at The Gap. With
+the discovery of gold, thousands of men poured into the country. They
+traversed every trail, followed up every valley in their mad rush for
+wealth. Although many of the newcomers were good men, who respected the
+law of God and man, there were others, the scum of civilisation, who
+polluted everything and place they touched. Little by little they led
+away the Indians from their allegiance to what they had been taught.
+For a time the natives resisted, but their thirst for hootch, and the
+temptations the white men set before them, proved too strong. Sadly
+Charles Norris and his wife saw their influence wane, and their work
+of years brought to ruin. They pleaded, they prayed, but all in vain.
+At last the day came when only two were left--an old leader, Tom, and
+his faithful wife, Kate. Nothing could divert their loyalty to the
+missionaries, and they, too, grieved over the defection of the members
+of their tribe.
+
+It was a trying time when the mission school had to be given up.
+The children slipped away, one by one, a number of the girls being
+led astray by white men. The loss of Zell affected them keenly. They
+had hoped much from this girl, who was brighter than the others, and
+possessed of nobler qualities. They had made much of her, and she was
+to them almost like a daughter.
+
+But the greatest blow of all to Charles Norris was when his wife
+sickened and died. For a time he was completely bewildered. He laid her
+to rest in the little Indian burying place nearby, and once again took
+up his weary and lonely task. Nothing could induce him to leave his
+post of duty. His Bishop came, pleaded, and reasoned with him, but to
+no purpose.
+
+“My place is here,” he had quietly replied. “The Indians may come back,
+and when they do, I must be waiting to receive them. I have no other
+home, and the interests of the outside world are nothing to me.”
+
+And so he remained, living alone in his house, attended by Kate, the
+Indian woman. She washed and cooked for him, and did what she could for
+his welfare. His wants were few, his mind now being entirely occupied
+with earnest prayers on behalf of his wandering flock, and preparing a
+larger manual of worship for the natives.
+
+“They may need it some day,” he had told his Bishop. “I have spent many
+years in studying the language, and it may be a help to others when I
+am gone. I feel sure that the Lord will not let all my work come to
+naught.”
+
+So great were his hope and faith, that every evening, both summer and
+winter, he held the simple service in the log church. Exactly at seven
+o’clock he would ring the little bell, which was fastened to a rude
+frame near the door. When the sound had ceased he would look up the
+valley, and listen intently for the music of hurrying feet which no
+longer came as in the past. Only Tom and Kate would come, shuffling
+along, to take their places near the chancel steps. The missionary
+would then enter the little vestry, don his robes, and read the
+service, never forgetting to pray for the absent ones.
+
+One cold night after service the missionary returned to his lonely
+house. Lighting a candle, he stirred up the fire in the sheet-iron
+heater, and added a couple of sticks. He then sat down at the rough
+deal table nearby which contained a number of books, several sheets
+of paper, pen, and ink. His eyes rested upon his translation of
+the beautiful benediction of St. Paul in his second letter to the
+Church at Corinth. “Nyiwhet Kekwadhut Jesus Kreist vit chekoorzi ako
+Vittekwichanchyo chettigwinidhun, ako Chunkyo Rsotitinyoo nichya sheg
+Myiwhot tutthug zyunkoli. Amen.” Carefully he compared this with the
+English, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and
+the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with you all. Amen.” For some
+time he sat there pondering over these words. He had no doubt about
+their truth, but somehow it did seem as if they were not applicable to
+him and his scattered flock. Grace had been strangely withheld of late,
+love had grown cold, and the bond of fellowship broken. The enemies of
+righteousness had triumphed, and truth had been trampled under foot.
+He and his two faithful Indians were alone left to uphold the standard
+of the Lord in that desolate wilderness. Was it really any use for him
+to strive longer? Perhaps it might be better for him to go elsewhere.
+Surely there was other work for him to do. Was he only wasting his
+time by remaining at The Gap?
+
+Suddenly there flashed into his mind the lament of the Lord, “I sought
+for a man that should make up the hedge, and stand in the gap before
+me for the land, and I found none.” These words startled him, and he
+quickly turned to the twenty-second chapter of the prophet Ezekiel. He
+read them with kindling eyes, and his heart beating a little faster.
+Why had they come to him just then? Was it a message from on high? A
+warning for him not to leave his post of duty? Did the Lord mean for
+him to remain there? Was there something yet for him to do? Yes, he
+would stay, and when the time came that a man was specially needed, he,
+Charles Norris, would be found standing in The Gap. This resolve gave
+him considerable comfort, so once more he picked up his pen and went on
+with his work.
+
+For perhaps an hour he sat there, lost in his self-imposed task of
+translating the clear brief English words into the long, forbidding
+ones of the native language. He was at length aroused by a loud knock
+upon the door. He started, and looked around. At once the door opened
+and a man entered, who stood gazing for a few seconds at the scene
+before him.
+
+“I want shelter for the night,” he roughly said. “An’ grub, too. I’m
+starving.”
+
+He then moved toward the stove, and the missionary noticed that he
+limped painfully.
+
+“Are you hurt?” he asked, rising from his seat and stepping forward.
+
+The visitor was about to make a savage reply, when he suddenly stopped.
+Something about the old man restrained him. He could not tell what it
+was, but Bill, the Slugger, for once was abashed. He put up his right
+hand as if to keep the missionary back. The latter interpreted this
+motion as a sign of faintness.
+
+“Come, come, sit right down here,” he said, drawing up a chair to the
+fire. “I shall give you something to eat at once, and make you a cup of
+strong tea.”
+
+With a groan Bill slumped into the chair, and when food was brought,
+he ate ravenously. He gulped down the tea, and handed back his cup for
+more.
+
+“Say, ye don’t happen to have somethin’ with a kick in it, do ye?” he
+asked.
+
+“You mean hootch, I suppose,” and a sad expression overspread the
+missionary’s face. “No, I have no use for the stuff.”
+
+“It’s good enough, though, when it has the right kick,” the visitor
+mournfully replied.
+
+“It had the wrong kick among my flock, and ruined my work here.”
+
+“Did it? That’s too bad.” Bill was feeling in a better humour now.
+
+“An’ so ye lost ’em all, eh?”
+
+“All but two; old Tom and his wife.”
+
+“Religion doesn’t take much hold on Injuns, so I’ve heard. Ye’ll give
+up yer job now, I s’pose. Much in it, eh?”
+
+“In what way?”
+
+“Oh, in money. D’ye git much fer hangin’ out here? It’s a wonder ye
+don’t leave.”
+
+“All I have in this world is here,” was the quiet reply. “My total
+earthly possessions are under this roof, and out among the trees, a
+short distance from the building.”
+
+“What! a cache?”
+
+“No--my wife’s grave.”
+
+This unexpected reply startled Bill, and he gasped, knowing not what
+to say. His movement caused him to groan with pain, and only with
+difficulty he smothered an angry oath.
+
+“Is there anything I can do for your leg?” the missionary asked. “I am
+quite a doctor, so might be able to help you.”
+
+“Yes, it’s bad,” Bill acknowledged. “Hurt it on the trail. Look.” When
+the left bare leg was exposed, Norris beheld a nasty swelling, just
+above the ankle.
+
+“It looks like a sprain,” the missionary remarked, examining it
+closely. “Hot applications and iodine will give you relief.”
+
+The visitor made no comment but let the missionary wait upon him. Hot
+cloths were then applied, after which the swollen part was well painted
+with iodine.
+
+“There, I guess that will do for the present,” Norris said, as he rose
+from his knees, corked the bottle and placed it upon a shelf.
+
+“A rest will do you good. You may sleep in that little room over there.
+You will find it quite warm.”
+
+“I’d rather sit here fer a while,” Bill replied. “Ye don’t mind if I
+smoke, do ye?”
+
+“Not in the least. The Indians always smoked when they came to see me.
+Have you any tobacco?”
+
+“No, I haven’t. Say, ye don’t happen to have any, do ye?”
+
+“Yes, there is part of a plug which old Tom left the other day. He
+won’t mind you having it.”
+
+Bill eagerly seized the tobacco, quickly whittled off several slices,
+and filled his blackened pipe. With a sigh of contentment, he leaned
+back in the chair.
+
+“My! that’s good,” he said. “I’ve been sufferin’ fer days fer a smoke.”
+
+“Well, enjoy yourself, then, while I do some work,” Norris replied. “We
+can talk later.”
+
+Seated once more at the table, the missionary was soon engrossed in
+his work. The visitor watched him curiously as he sent big wreathes
+of smoke into the air. And truly it was a scene worthy of a great
+artist--the venerable, white-haired man, with the long flowing beard,
+noble forehead, and eyes expressive of sympathy and devotion. The
+lighted candle, and the humble surroundings seemed to enhance the face
+and form of the man, bestowing upon him a patriarchal dignity, and the
+glorifying of the commonplace.
+
+Of all this, however, the silent man near the stove thought nothing.
+His mind was dwelling upon more material things, such as the amount of
+money the missionary might have on his person or concealed about the
+house, and whether it would be worth the trouble and the risk to knock
+him on the head in order to find out. He wondered if he would fight
+if ordered to produce anything of value. He believed that he could
+handle him all right, and that he would easily submit when threatened
+by a revolver. But of the old man’s eyes he was not so sure. There was
+something about them that made him afraid, and awed even his reckless
+and villainous nature. No respect for the self-denying and gentle man
+of God entered his calloused heart. And gratitude for favors received,
+which even the dumb brutes possess, was to him a thing unknown.
+
+At length the missionary laid down his pen and looked over at his
+visitor.
+
+“You must be very tired,” he said. “It is my bedtime, so if you will
+excuse me, I shall retire. Make yourself perfectly at home here, and if
+you need any help in the night with your ankle, call me. But, as is
+always my custom, I shall have a few prayers.”
+
+At once the old man kneeled down and offered up his humble petitions.
+He prayed especially for the wandering flock, not forgetting to ask a
+blessing upon the stranger under his roof. Thanking God for all His
+past mercies, and committing himself and his visitor to the Divine
+protection, he rose from his knees and picked up his candle.
+
+When the missionary began to pray, a cynical and a mocking expression
+overspread Bill’s face. With unbent head he watched the “daft old
+man,” as he considered him. But as the praying continued, some chord
+of memory was touched, and for the first time in years he recalled the
+little prayer he had learned at his mother’s knees. It was merely a
+passing emotion, however, but it brought a softer expression into his
+eyes.
+
+“Are there any Injuns near here?” he asked, as the missionary was about
+to leave the room.
+
+“Yes, several bands are out in the hills, so I understand.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“Due west, straight up the valley. Good night, and may you rest well.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 17
+
+The Trapper Arrives
+
+
+Charles Norris was an early riser, and it was his custom to be at work
+hours before the sun stole down into the valley. But the next morning
+he departed from this habit of years, and remained in bed longer than
+usual. He did not wish to disturb his guest, for, judging by what he
+had heard in the night, he believed that his rest had been broken owing
+to the pain in his leg, and so was forced to move around a great deal.
+Once he had asked if he could do anything for him, and had been told
+that nothing could be done. After that the missionary had gone to sleep
+again, and did not awake until his usual time.
+
+When at length he did get up and dress, he walked softly out into the
+other room. He made as little noise as possible in placing several
+sticks in the stove, and even postponed his breakfast. He sat down at
+the table and busied himself for a while with his translation work. At
+last he arose and went over to the corner of the room where he kept his
+supply of food. Finding nothing there, he was surprised. He went back
+for his candle and made a thorough examination of the corner. But not a
+scrap of meat, bread, or flour, was left. All was gone. Somewhat dazed,
+the missionary wondered what could have happened to his provisions.
+Then an idea came to his mind which caused him some uneasiness. Walking
+rapidly to the room where he believed his guest had slept, he held the
+candle above his head and looked in. But no sign of the visitor could
+he see. In fact, the bed had not been slept in at all. Then he knew for
+a certainty that the man had gone, and taken with him the scanty supply
+of food the house contained.
+
+“My, oh, my! I am surprised!” the missionary murmured. “He need not
+have stolen that food, as I would gladly have given it to him. Why did
+he commit that sin?”
+
+Charles Norris was of such a trustful disposition that it was hard
+for him to see evil in anyone. So gentle was he that his gentleness
+became a weakness when dealing with the stern facts of life. Had his
+nature been moulded along more rugged lines he would have succeeded
+better with his Indians. They considered his gentleness and patience
+as a weakness in his make-up, and always imposed upon him, even when
+most amenable to his teaching. Perhaps if he had been more severe,
+and mingled with his gentleness some of the manly fibre of the Great
+Master, it might have been better. But that he could not do. He would
+win through gentle love alone, and in no other way, forgetting in his
+holy enthusiasm that the truest love is at times closely linked with
+the chastening rod. He knew that there was much evil in the world, but
+he believed that the overmastering weapon to conquer it was love. He
+trusted his unknown visitor that night, and when he found that he had
+wilfully deceived him it was a severe shock.
+
+Returning to the table, he sat down, and remained for some time lost in
+thought. At length he turned and looked toward a little box upon the
+shelf where a small clock was ticking. He rose to his feet, went over,
+took down the box, opened it and peered in. It was empty! He had not
+left much money there, but it was all that he had.
+
+“So he took that!” he exclaimed. “I can understand his stealing food.
+But my money! The Indians, even when most uncouth, never stole anything
+from this house. And to think that a white man, and one I trusted,
+should be the first to steal from me!”
+
+The missionary was standing near the shelf, when a gentle tap sounded
+upon the door, and old Tom at once entered.
+
+“Good morning, Gikhi,” he accosted in the native tongue. “You are
+alone, I see.”
+
+“And why shouldn’t I be, Tom?” the missionary asked. “Am I not
+generally alone?”
+
+“Yes, but not last night. Where is the stranger?”
+
+“Did you see him?”
+
+“Tom saw him. Does Gikhi know who he is, and where he came from?”
+
+“No; I never asked him.”
+
+“Bad white man, ugh!”
+
+“How do you know that, Tom?”
+
+“Tom old man now. Tom knows much. Tom sees here,” and he touched his
+eyes with the fingers of his right hand. He then placed his hand to
+his forehead. “Tom sees more here,” he added, while a quaint smile
+overspread his face. “White man steal grub, eh?” and he looked over
+toward the corner of the room.
+
+“Why, yes! How did you know that?”
+
+“Tom get Gikhi grub now,” was the native’s reply.
+
+“I can’t pay you, Tom. The white man took my money.”
+
+“Tom doesn’t want pay. Tom glad to give grub. Gikhi good man.”
+
+“Thank you, Tom. You are a true friend. I shall not forget this.”
+
+When Tom had gone the missionary returned to his seat by the table. He
+did not pick up his pen as usual, but sat staring straight before him.
+Tom’s presence had brought back memories of other days when morning by
+morning Indians had come to his house on various missions, and they had
+always received a hearty welcome. They needed him then, but he needed
+them now. This was a new and startling idea. He wondered why he had
+never thought of it before. Had he done too much for the Indians, and
+had not allowed them to do enough for him? “Service for others” had
+always been his motto, and he had given of himself without stint. And
+the sense of responsibility, and of giving without receiving, had been
+an unspeakable joy. But had he thus taught the natives? Sadly he was
+forced to confess to himself that he had not. He had presented to them
+a distorted view of the life and teaching of the Great Master. Their
+characters, accordingly, had not been developed, and in the time of
+temptation they had fallen away.
+
+“Forgive me, Lord! forgive me!” he murmured. “I did it unwittingly.
+I am not worthy to be called Thy servant. But now my eyes are opened
+and I see. Lord, give me another chance. Cast me not away in my old
+age, until I show to Thy wandering ones the true glory of loving and
+unselfish service.”
+
+He ceased, and his grey eyes glowed anew with the light of a great
+resolve. Charles Norris, the missionary, had made a wonderful
+discovery. It came to him in a moment of time, but it had taken long
+years of toil and hardship, of sorrow and failure, to bring it to pass.
+
+He was aroused from his reverie by a heavy knock upon the door. Ere he
+could rise, the door was thrust open, and Hugo, the trapper, entered,
+bearing in his arms the limp form of Zell, the half-breed girl. Hugo
+staggered as he started to cross the floor, and he would have dropped
+the girl had not the missionary stepped quickly forward and caught her
+in his arms. He then carried her over and laid her upon a little cot
+near the stove. Hugo followed him, and looked down anxiously upon the
+unconscious one.
+
+“I made it!” he gasped. “Lord! I thought I’d never do it!”
+
+“Who is the girl?” the missionary asked. “What has happened to her?”
+
+Hugo made no reply, but sat down wearily upon the nearest seat,
+which was nothing but a rough bench. His face was drawn and haggard,
+expressing more plainly than words the great struggle he had made. The
+missionary wisely forbore questioning further, but turned at once and
+prepared a cup of tea.
+
+“This is all I have to offer you, now,” he apologised, handing Hugo
+a steaming cup. “I had a visitor last night, and he took nearly
+everything but this.”
+
+Hugo drank the tea, and giving back the cup, stretched out his hands
+toward the stove.
+
+“My! that heat feels good,” he said. “That poor girl must be chilled
+through; I kept her as warm as I could, but it was a hard job.”
+
+Going at once into his bedroom, the missionary brought out a thick
+blanket and laid it carefully over the girl’s body.
+
+“What is the matter with her?” he asked, turning to the trapper.
+
+“She’s crazy, that’s what’s wrong. I found her wandering around in the
+snow, singing and making queer noises, and so I brought her here.”
+
+“But what happened to her? How did she come to be wandering about
+alone?”
+
+“It was due to a devil who calls himself a man,” Hugo savagely replied.
+“I’m just longing to get my hands on that skunk, and I’ll----”
+
+Hugo paused without finishing his sentence, and the doubled-up first
+of his right hand shot straight before him. There was no doubt about
+what he would do should he come across the man responsible for Zell’s
+condition.
+
+Just then Tom entered, and laid a supply of food upon the table. He
+looked first at Hugo, whom he well knew, and then at the covered form
+on the cot. Indian like, he made no comment, but drew the missionary’s
+attention to the food.
+
+“Never mind that now, Tom,” Mr. Norris replied. “Go and bring Kate here
+at once. I want her to look after the girl over there. I don’t know
+what to do for her. She should have a woman’s care, anyway.”
+
+“Is the white girl very sick, Gikhi?”
+
+“I am afraid so. She has had a hard time on the trail, and her head is
+queer.”
+
+Tom at once left the building, and in a remarkably short time he was
+back again with his wife close at his heels. The latter, a stout,
+motherly-looking woman, went at once to the side of the cot. She turned
+back the blanket, and when she had drawn aside the hood which almost
+concealed the girl’s face, she uttered an exclamation of surprise.
+
+“What’s the matter, Kate?” the missionary asked, hurrying to her side.
+
+The Indian woman made no reply, but pointed excitedly at the girl.
+Owing to the dimness of the room, and failing sight, Mr. Norris bent
+down over the cot and peered at the girl’s face. Then a great cry of
+concern broke from his lips, and dropping upon his knees he reached out
+trembling hands.
+
+“It’s Zell; it’s Zell!” he exclaimed. “It’s our own lost child come
+back again! Quick, Kate, remove her hood and let me have a good look at
+her. Light the candle, Tom, and bring it here.”
+
+When his orders had been speedily obeyed, he took the candle in his
+left hand, and held it so that the light would shine upon the girl’s
+face. Catching one of Zell’s limp, cold hands in his, he felt her pulse.
+
+“No, she is not dead, thank God. But she needs help at once. You will
+take good care of her, Kate.”
+
+“Ah, ah, Gikhi, Kate will look well after the girl,” was the quiet
+reply. “Tom will carry her to our cabin.”
+
+“No, no, she must stay here,” the missionary insisted. “She has come
+back home, and this is the place for her. My wife, were she alive,
+would want our child to remain here.”
+
+“She is not with us now, Gikhi, remember,” Tom replied. “Kate knows
+what to do for Zell better than white men.”
+
+“You are right, Tom,” the missionary agreed. “Zell shall go with Kate.
+She is the proper one to look after her.”
+
+“Good, good,” Tom replied, as he stooped and lifted the girl in his
+arms. In another minute he was out of the house, with Kate following
+close at his heels.
+
+The missionary stood watching them until they passed within their own
+abode. He then closed the door and came over to Hugo’s side.
+
+“You are tired,” he said. “Let me get you something to eat, and after
+that you must have a good sleep.”
+
+The trapper looked up wearily into the old man’s face. The missionary’s
+interest and sympathy touched him deeply. For the time, he was no
+longer the great strong Hugo of the trail, a modern Esau, with his
+heart against every man, except the unfortunate. He was as a child,
+tired out, ready to rest.
+
+After Hugo had eaten the simple meal, the missionary conducted him to
+the room where he had taken Bill, the Slugger, the night before.
+
+“There is a good bed,” he told him. “It has not been slept on for some
+time. The man who stayed here last night was suffering too much to
+sleep. He left before I was up.”
+
+“Who was that?” Hugo asked.
+
+“I do not know his name. But he had a bad leg, which he said he injured
+on the trail. I did what I could for him, but it gave him no relief.
+Anyway, he was able to travel and carry with him my entire stock of
+provisions, and all the money I had.”
+
+“What! did he steal them?” Hugo asked in surprise.
+
+“Yes, but, then, perhaps, he needed them more than I did. If he had
+only asked me, I would gladly have given him food, and money, too, for
+that matter.”
+
+Hugo was about to question further, but refrained, and stretched
+himself out upon the bed. Carefully and almost tenderly the missionary
+covered him with thick blankets, closed the door and went back to his
+table and writing.
+
+All through the day the trapper slept, and was only aroused by the
+sound of the bell outside. Wondering what it could mean, he quickly
+rose, went to the door and looked out. Then he understood, so closing
+the door he walked over to the little church. The bell was silent now,
+for the ringer had already gone into the building. Hugo also entered
+and sat down on a seat near the door. Old Tom was alone, sitting in
+his accustomed place. Presently the missionary came from the vestry
+and began the service. Although Hugo could not understand a word that
+was being said, he was much impressed. The church was cold, and dimly
+lighted by two candles. The missionary’s voice was intensely earnest,
+and a feeling of great respect came into the trapper’s heart as he
+listened. What wonderful faith the man must have, he mused. How other
+men would have given up long ago.
+
+And as he watched, he gave a sudden start. A strange light seemed to
+surround the two worshippers. He rubbed his eyes, thinking that he was
+mistaken. But, no, the light was there, wonderfully soft, and yet much
+stronger than that of the candles. It resembled the light which had
+surrounded the sleeping child that night on the trail. He strained his
+eyes, half expecting to behold some angel visitants. And as he looked,
+the light gradually faded, and by the time the service was ended it had
+disappeared altogether.
+
+Hugo slipped out of the church, and when the missionary returned to his
+house he found him sitting near the stove.
+
+“Did you have a nice service?” the trapper asked.
+
+“A remarkable one to-night,” was the quiet reply.
+
+“But did you have any congregation? Are not most of the natives away?”
+
+“You are quite right. Tom was the only Indian present, as Kate
+could not leave Zell. But I was wonderfully inspired at the service
+to-night. The church seemed to be filled with a great light, and I am
+certain that I saw angelic forms filling all the seats, and crowding
+the building. It may have been an hallucination, though to me it
+was very real and heartening. But I suppose you will say it is all
+nonsense. That is too often the way with people of the world who cannot
+understand such things.”
+
+Hugo made no reply just then, but that night as he sat smoking, he
+turned abruptly to the missionary, busy at his writing.
+
+“How is the girl?” he asked. “Have you seen her to-day?”
+
+“Oh, yes, I have been over several times. There is no change as yet,
+although Kate thinks that she will recover.”
+
+Hugo smoked in silence for a few minutes. At length he rose to his
+feet, and bent over the table.
+
+“Will you do me a favor?” he asked.
+
+“I shall be only too glad to do so if it is within my power,” was the
+reply.
+
+The trapper at once thrust his right hand into an inside pocket,
+brought forth the diamond ring, and held it in the palm of his hand.
+Seeing the look of wonder in the old man’s eyes, he smiled.
+
+“It is no wonder that you are surprised, Mr. Norris, for one doesn’t
+come across such as this every day. But I found it in a cabin and I
+want to give it to you.”
+
+“Give it to me!” the missionary exclaimed. “Why what in the world would
+I do with such a thing as that? I have no use for so valuable a ring as
+I take that to be.”
+
+“Yes, I believe it is valuable. You can sell it some day, and it will
+repay you a little for your care of that girl.”
+
+“But I don’t want any pay for that.”
+
+“So you won’t take it, then?” There was a note of disappointment in the
+trapper’s voice.
+
+“No, I could not think of doing such a thing.”
+
+“Will you keep it, then, until I come back? I am going to leave early
+in the morning, and may not return for several days. I am afraid of
+losing it on the trail.”
+
+“I don’t mind doing that,” the missionary agreed. “It should be safe
+here, for I have few visitors, and the one I had last night is not
+likely to come again.”
+
+He took the ring in his hand and examined it closely. He noted the
+flashing lustre of the diamond when the light of the candle fell upon
+it.
+
+“I wonder what fair finger this once encircled,” he mused, as if to
+himself. “It’s a symbol of that life of which I was once so fond. It
+brings back old memories which I thought I had forever forgotten. But I
+left all those things behind when I enlisted beneath the Banner of the
+Cross.”
+
+“Are you happier now than you were then?” Hugo asked.
+
+“I have never really thought about it in that way,” was the reply. “But
+I know I am, for I am in possession of a Great Treasure which gives me
+peace in times of storm, and joy in the midst of tribulation. A man who
+once has that need never worry about losing the things of the world.”
+
+“I believe you are right,” Hugo fervently replied, as he returned to
+his seat by the fire, and continued his smoke.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 18
+
+A Cowardly Deed
+
+
+When Charles Norris awoke the next morning he found that Hugo had gone.
+The previous evening he had shared with him some of the food which old
+Tom had brought to the house. He had asked the trapper no questions
+and was unaware of the errand which caused him to leave so early. This
+was but natural in a country where men as a rule are reticent about
+their movements. The missionary, who for years had known this strange
+wanderer of the trails, was pleased at the apparent change which had
+come over him. He had met him several times out in the hills, and had
+heard numerous stories from the Indians and others about his great
+strength and fierceness of manner. He had, accordingly, considered
+him as an untamable being who for some special reason had fled from
+civilisation and had buried himself in the northern wilderness. His
+sympathy in caring for the half-breed girl, and his gentleness while
+in the house, came somewhat as a surprise to the missionary. He was
+pleased, too, that the trapper had not scoffed when he told him about
+the vision he had seen during the service. There must be some good in
+the fellow, after all, he thought.
+
+After he had prepared and eaten his breakfast, the missionary left
+the house and went over to his cache, situated several feet from the
+ground between four big trees. Here his extra supply of provisions was
+safe from prowling animals. He carried with him a small ladder which
+he placed against one of the trees, mounted it and brought down such
+things as he needed. These he at once took over to Tom’s cabin and laid
+them on the floor.
+
+“I bring these to pay you back for what you gave me,” he explained.
+“You will find some tea there, too. How is Zell?”
+
+“Better this morning, Gikhi,” the Indian replied. “Her eyes see, and
+her tongue speaks straight.”
+
+“Ah, that is good, Tom. You and Kate have done well.”
+
+He walked over to the bed on the floor where the girl was lying,
+stooped down and looked into her face. Then he took one of her hands in
+his, and gave it a slight pressure.
+
+“Do you know me, dear?” he asked.
+
+For a few seconds Zell stared straight at him, as if trying to recall
+something. Then a slight expression of understanding dawned in her
+eyes, and her brow wrinkled. This was followed immediately by a look of
+fear as she raised her right hand and struck feebly at the missionary.
+
+“Go away, go away!” she cried. “Don’t, Bill, don’t! Oh, let me go!”
+
+“Hush, hush,” Norris soothed. “You are safe here with friends. Don’t
+you know me, Zell? It is your own Gikhi who has come to you.”
+
+“Gikhi! Gikhi!” the girl repeated. “Not Bill?”
+
+“No, no. Bill is not here. Just Gikhi, Tom, and Kate.”
+
+With a sigh Zell closed her eyes and remained very still. The
+missionary watched her for a few minutes until he was certain that
+she was asleep. He then knelt upon the floor by her side, and remained
+a long time in silent prayer. Tom and Kate sat upon the floor, and
+with bowed heads waited for the missionary to rise. When he did so, he
+turned to the faithful natives, and in a low voice told them to summon
+him when Zell awoke. He then left the building with the intention of
+going to his own house. But Tom followed close behind, and when the
+door had been closed, he touched the missionary reverently upon the arm.
+
+“Will Zell get well, Gikhi?” he asked in the Indian tongue.
+
+“Let us hope so,” Norris replied, stopping and looking at the native.
+“I have asked the Good Lord to make her well, so we must leave
+everything in His hands now. He will do what is best, never doubt.”
+
+“But the Good Lord didn’t make her that way, Gikhi. He had nothing to
+do with it.”
+
+“I suppose not, but He can cure her, nevertheless.”
+
+“Did you hear her speak about Bill, Gikhi?”
+
+“I did. She seemed to be very much afraid of him.”
+
+“He is a bad man, Gikhi. Will the Good Lord punish him?”
+
+“Most likely He will. The Judge of all the earth will do right.”
+
+“But doesn’t the good Lord often leave us to judge and punish, Gikhi?”
+
+“He often does, Tom, when it is necessary. But in this case there is
+nothing we can do. We do not know who Bill is, so how can we punish
+him? If the Police knew what he did they might track him down.”
+
+“But doesn’t Gikhi know? It was Bill who stole his grub and money.”
+
+At this information the missionary started and his eyes opened wide
+with surprise.
+
+“Are you telling me the truth?” he asked. “Was it really that man who
+injured our little girl?”
+
+“It was, Gikhi. I am telling you the truth. When did you know Tom to
+lie?”
+
+“Is it possible that I fed and cared for the villain who hurt Zell? If
+I had known! If I had known!”
+
+“What would you have done, Gikhi?”
+
+“What would I have done?” The missionary stared at the Indian. He then
+placed his hand to his forehead, a sure sign of his perplexity. “I
+don’t know, Tom,” he at last confessed. “I am not sure what I would
+have done. I must go home and think.”
+
+He walked slowly away, leaving the Indian gazing after him. Tom turned
+partly round as if to go back into the house. But he paused, and
+looked far up the valley. His eyes burned with the fire of a strong
+resolve, and his hands clenched hard. Years of Christian teaching could
+not altogether crush out the wild impulse of his nature which he had
+inherited from countless generations of warriors. Old though he was, he
+felt the surge of revenge welling strong in his heart.
+
+“Gikhi doesn’t know what he would have done to Bill,” he mused. “He
+doesn’t know what he will do now. Maybe Tom knows what to do. Ah, ah,
+Tom knows.”
+
+The missionary spent most of the day within his own house, busy with
+his writing. He was anxious to get his work done as soon as possible
+that he might send it outside at the first opportunity, thence to be
+forwarded to England for printing. He knew that it would be two years,
+at least, before he could receive the first copy for revision, and then
+further delay ere it would be completed. By that time the Indians
+might be ready to return, so he hoped, and would be anxious for the
+enlarged books of devotion.
+
+Several times during the afternoon he went over to see how Zell was
+getting along. On his last visit, just as the sun was disappearing
+beyond the highest mountain peaks, he was delighted to find that the
+girl recognised him, and gave a slight smile as he spoke to her. She
+faintly murmured the one word “Tim,” and tried to tell him about her
+lover. But she was so weak that the missionary advised her not to talk
+just then, but to wait until she was stronger. He noticed that Tom was
+busy mending his snow-shoes, and asked him where he was going.
+
+“Out to the hills, mebbe,” was the evasive reply.
+
+“After game?”
+
+“Ah, ah. Wolf, mebbe.”
+
+The missionary asked no further questions, although he wondered why
+Tom should go hunting for a wolf. He forgot all about this incident,
+however, as he once again rang the little bell and began the evening
+service. His heart was full of gratitude at Zell’s speedy recovery,
+which he felt was a direct answer to his prayers. He offered up special
+thanks that night, and Kate, who was present instead of her husband,
+was deeply impressed.
+
+“The Good Lord has answered Gikhi’s prayer,” she told him when the
+service was ended.
+
+“There is no doubt about it,” was the reply. “He has promised to hear
+us when we ask Him in faith. He never fails His people.”
+
+“Will he bring back the Indians, Gikhi?”
+
+“He will, He will, Kate, in His own way, and in His own good time. We
+must be patient and keep on praying. He is testing us now, no doubt,
+that our faith in Him may be strengthened. Perhaps we have trusted too
+much to our own efforts, and not enough to Him.”
+
+That night the missionary bent over his table, while time sped unheeded
+by. He worked later than usual, for Love was the great theme which
+occupied his mind. It thrilled his entire being, and drove all sleep
+from his eyes.
+
+“This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you.
+Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for
+his friends.”
+
+He had translated these wonderful words of the Master, and yet he was
+not satisfied. He longed to express them in such a way that the Indians
+would have no doubt as to their meaning. He wanted them to know that
+love was the greatest thing in the world, and that the proof of love
+was service, even to the giving of one’s life, if necessary. Not in
+receiving, but in giving, was to serve aright. If he could only impress
+the natives with that great truth, how much might be accomplished.
+
+So deeply engrossed was he with his task, that he did not heed the
+opening of the door, which was never barred, nor the stealthy entrance
+of Bill, the Slugger, into the room. He was near the table when the
+missionary first became aware of his presence. He was greatly startled,
+and the pen dropped from his hand. Seeing who it was, a peculiar
+expression appeared in his eyes.
+
+“Where did you come from?” he asked. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
+
+“Ye wern’t, eh?” the visitor snarled. “Thought I’d gone fer sure, did
+ye?”
+
+“Certainly, after what you did to me.” The missionary was standing
+now behind the table, his tall form drawn to its full height. “But I
+am glad you have come back. Is there anything I can do for you? How is
+your leg?”
+
+“It hurts like hell.”
+
+The oath annoyed the missionary, and his eyes flashed with anger. He
+thought, too, of this man’s treatment of Zell. What effect would mild
+words have upon such a creature? He recalled how the prophets of old
+had denounced sinners, and even Christ, Himself, had spoken sternly
+when it was necessary. He restrained himself, however, wishing to give
+the man another chance.
+
+“I am sorry you stole from me,” he said. “Had you asked me, I would
+have given you all that food, and the money, too, for that matter. Why
+did you commit that sin?”
+
+“Say, are you a fool or bughouse?” Bill questioned. “Ye must be one or
+the other to talk sich nonsense.”
+
+“I am a fool,” was the unexpected reply. “Yes, like the apostles of
+old, I am a fool for Christ’s sake, that I might win souls for Him.”
+
+“An’ so ye’ve made a mess of the hull d-- business, eh?”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“Haven’t yer Injuns left ye? If ye hadn’t been sich a fool, maybe they
+would have thought more of ye.”
+
+“Perhaps they would. Anyway, I did it all for the best.”
+
+“If ye’d used a club instead of so many d-- whining prayers, they’d had
+more respect fer ye. It’s the big stick that does things these days.”
+
+“I don’t believe it.” The words leaped forth with such fiery vehemence
+that Bill was surprised. The missionary’s eyes were now blazing with
+indignation. His clenched hands rested upon the table as he faced his
+visitor. “You may sneer all you like at prayers, but it was through
+earnest prayer that the girl you so vilely injured in some way, I know
+not how, is now recovering.”
+
+For an instant Bill was caught off guard. His eyes expressed surprise,
+mingled with fear. Immediately he regained his self-confidence,
+however, laughed, and uttered another oath.
+
+“Say, what are ye talkin’ about?” he asked. “I know nuthin’ about any
+girl. I wish to G-- I could run across a pretty one here.”
+
+The missionary made no reply. He stood very erect, looking full into
+the face of the man before him. He was trying to read his soul, to
+detect, if possible, whether he was speaking the truth. Before that
+straight steady gaze, Bill’s eyes shifted, and then dropped. The
+nobleness of this man of God stirred his heart with anger. He could not
+withstand that silent, unwavering look. It aroused to fury the devil
+within him more than biting words of reproach. His face assumed an ugly
+expression, and stepping forward, he leaned across the table.
+
+“Look here,” he roared, “d’ye think I’ve got time to waste in listenin’
+to sich d-- nonsense? The girl ye speak about is nuthin’ to me. I don’t
+care whether she lives or dies. But you’ve got something I want, an’
+the sooner ye hand it over, the better. D’ye know what I mean?”
+
+“Why, no,” the missionary replied, shrinking back a little from the
+excited man.
+
+“It’s the ring ye’ve got hidden somewhere. That’s what I want, so out
+with it.”
+
+“Oh!” The missionary started as if stabbed with a knife. He
+comprehended now the purpose of this man’s visit. The real vileness of
+his nature was fully revealed.
+
+“What are ye waitin’ fer?” Bill demanded. “Didn’t ye hear what I said?”
+
+“Yes, I heard, but I am waiting for you to recover your senses.”
+
+“My senses are all right,” Bill retorted. “But you won’t have any
+senses left to recover if you don’t git a hustle on. I want that ring,
+and at once.”
+
+“How do you know that I have a ring?”
+
+“H’m, I know, all right. Didn’t I see Hugo, the trapper, give it to you
+last night?”
+
+“And were you watching?”
+
+“Sure, I was watchin’. Ye don’t keep any blinds or curtains to yer
+windows, see? Oh, I saw the ring, an’ know where it came from, too.
+Hugo killed Bill Haines an’ his wife to git that. But I want it, so
+hurry up.”
+
+“What! was it the cause of murder?” the missionary asked, greatly
+horrified. “Where? When?”
+
+“Along the Yukon, near the C.D. Cut-off. Hugo killed Bill Haines an’
+his wife, an’ threw their bodies into the river.”
+
+“How do you know this?” was the unexpected question.
+
+“Never mind how I know. It will all come out when the Police git
+through with their job. But hurry up, I want that ring.”
+
+A great suspicion now swept upon the missionary. He had not heard of
+any murder, but if one had been committed, he surmised that the man
+before him was the guilty one. He could not believe that Hugo would
+commit such a deed. What should he do? Then he was suddenly aware
+that he was looking straight into the threatening muzzle of a levelled
+revolver.
+
+“Ah, I guess that’ll bring ye to yer senses,” Bill growled. “That
+carries more weight than all yer pious prayers. That’s what will touch
+the heart quicker than anything I know.”
+
+“Would you commit murder for the sake of a paltry ring?” the missionary
+asked, unabashed by the danger which threatened him.
+
+“It’s up to you to stop it, then,” was the reply. “If ye don’t want me
+to commit murder, jist give up that ring.”
+
+“But I have received it in trust. It is not mine to give.”
+
+“That doesn’t make any difference to me. You kin explain what happened,
+and Hugo will understand.”
+
+“I won’t do such a thing,” the missionary sternly declared. “My life is
+of little value as far as this world is concerned. But my honor means a
+great deal. You will only get that ring over my dead body.”
+
+Under the strain and excitement of the situation the old man suddenly
+lifted his hand to give emphasis to his words. Thinking that he meant
+to knock aside the weapon, Bill’s hand quickly moved, and his finger
+pulled the trigger. There was a sharp report, a groan, and a heavy thud
+as the missionary dropped limp and helpless upon the floor, his head
+striking the table as he fell.
+
+“Serves the old fool right,” Bill muttered, as he stepped around the
+table and bent over the prostrate man. “That was the only way to stop
+his d-- nonsense. Now fer the ring. I saw him put it in his pocket, an’
+most likely it’s there yit.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 19
+
+Anxious Waiting
+
+
+The storm which overcame Sergeant North, and wound its mystic
+winding-sheet over the land, enshrouded the little brush lean-to which
+Constable Rolfe had erected for Marion Brisbane. It was merely a rough
+makeshift affair, and yet it served its purpose. It was sheltered from
+the fierce wind by the big trees, and through their great outstretched
+branches the snow sifted gently down. A generous fire radiated its
+warmth and cheer, and the leaping flames melted and dissolved the
+falling flakes. Rolfe was kept busy much of the time searching for dry
+wood, and piling it near to serve not only for the rest of the day but
+during the long night. Having no axe, this was a difficult task, and
+he was forced to break off dead branches to add to his supply. Marion
+longed to be of some use, but the constable jokingly told her that a
+woman’s place was at home looking after the affairs of the household.
+
+“Suppose we have a turkey for dinner to-morrow,” he said, as he was
+about to start forth again on one of his wood-hunting trips. “Just
+phone your order to Vancouver, and have a big fat bird sent up. Our
+cook can prepare it to-night, and have it ready for the oven early in
+the morning.”
+
+“I am afraid that our phone is out of order,” Marion laughingly
+replied. “Suppose you call in on your way home and order the turkey.”
+
+In this manner the two marooned travellers passed the weary hours. As
+night shut down upon them, they sang hymns and old familiar songs.
+Rolfe recited poetry and read inspiring selections from his worn and
+stained pocket manual.
+
+“What a pity it is,” he said, after he had finished several short
+poems, “that the ones who wrote such verses cannot know of the great
+help they are to us.”
+
+“Perhaps they do know,” Marion replied, “especially the ones we call
+‘dead.’ I like to think that the departed have full knowledge of what
+is taking place on earth. Perhaps even now the writers of those verses
+are rejoicing because of the help they are to us. Anyway, isn’t it
+great to feel that we never really die, but that our deeds live after
+us.”
+
+“It certainly is,” Rolfe acknowledged. “Tennyson has well expressed it
+in two lines when he says,
+
+  “‘Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
+    And grow forever and forever.’
+
+“Now, that is the idea. Tennyson was thinking of someone blowing a
+bugle, and how the notes sounded far and wide. In a similar way his
+words echo on and on, even to this desolate place.”
+
+“Why don’t you write poetry, Mr. Rolfe?” Marion asked. “I am sure you
+could do it well. Why not try?”
+
+The constable’s face flushed, and he became much embarrassed. He rose
+and placed several small sticks upon the fire. When this had been
+accomplished, he turned to Marion.
+
+“I have tried my hand at it,” he confessed, “although so far I have
+accomplished very little. But when I am through with the Force, I hope
+to give expression to the thoughts which arise within me. There is so
+much to write about that it will take years to tell all I want to.
+The sergeant thinks that it is all nonsense and waste of time. But he
+doesn’t seem to understand. He is so very practical and matter-of-fact.”
+
+The mention of the sergeant brought an anxious expression to Marion’s
+face. He had seldom been out of her mind since she had bidden him
+good-by, and watched him as he strode away. She knew what a difficult
+journey lay ahead of him, and she feared that he could not accomplish
+it on his miserable snow-shoes. Then when the storm swept down, her
+fear increased. Rolfe, too, was alarmed, although he spoke hopefully.
+
+“The sergeant is a wonderful trailsman,” he said. “Even if his
+snow-shoes should give out, he can plow his way through. His endurance
+is remarkable. Why, I have known him to cross a mountain range in a
+howling blizzard, and come through almost as fresh as when he started.”
+
+“But perhaps he will lose his way,” Marion suggested.
+
+“Not a bit of it. You can’t lose him. He can follow a trail by
+instinct. Say, he is a great man. I have been with him on terrible
+journeys, and I wouldn’t be living to-day but for him. He carried me
+several miles once when I played out. Don’t worry about him, Miss
+Brisbane. He’ll get through, all right.”
+
+Although these words cheered Marion to a certain degree, yet she could
+not help feeling uneasy. As the storm increased, and the wind roared
+overhead, and the trees swayed like great masts at sea, she thought
+of the man she loved battling his way through the blinding snow and
+the raging tempest. She also noted that as the evening wore on the
+constable became unusually silent, at times, and his eyes expressed his
+anxiety. She understood the meaning of this, and he could not deceive
+her when occasionally he aroused himself and assumed an attitude of
+cheerfulness and unconcern.
+
+Rolfe, in fact, was playing a difficult part. He knew better than
+Marion the serious situation in which they were placed. If anything
+happened to the sergeant, it would go hard with them. They might fight
+their way through when the storm abated. But the chance was only one in
+a thousand, for now there would not be the least vestige of the trail
+left, so what could they do on their wretched snow-shoes?
+
+All through the long night Rolfe watched and kept the fire going.
+Marion slept a little. She tried to keep awake, but weariness overcame
+her. She would awake shivering with a fearful apprehension of impending
+evil. She could not shake off this feeling, although she did not
+mention it to her companion. The tired woe-begone expression upon the
+constable’s face when he thought she was not noticing him smote her
+heart. Then to see him smile so bravely when she spoke to him thrilled
+her. She admired his courage, and the brave spirit he was maintaining
+for her sake. It strengthened her, and made her determine that she
+would show how a woman can suffer and be strong.
+
+All unconsciously Marion was exerting a strong influence upon the
+constable’s impressionable and poetic nature. Her beauty appealed
+to him. The noble part he was performing in their present critical
+situation he considered as nothing out of the ordinary. It was merely
+what was expected of him as a member of the Force. In Marion Brisbane
+he had at last found the type of womanhood which had been for years but
+an ideal. Her brightness, courage, and sweet charm of face and manner
+inspired him. It was good to be near her in time of need. His life had
+been a rough one, but a great inner longing, and the energizing power
+of a lofty ideal, had kept him clean and straight. He knew very little
+of the society of women, so it was but natural that he should be deeply
+affected by this beautiful comrade of the trail.
+
+This feeling, however, Rolfe kept to himself. To him loyalty was as
+vital as life. It flowed through every part of his being, and never
+for an instant did he dream of betraying his sergeant’s trust in him.
+So all the time he and Marion were together, neither by word or look
+did he show that she was anything more to him than a friend for whose
+welfare he was concerned.
+
+Marion, too, did considerable thinking. Since leaving Kynox she had
+been mentally comparing her two companions. She liked Rolfe for his
+jovial manner, and poetic notions. He helped to pass the weary hours,
+and to enliven the trail. But to her he seemed more like a boy on whom
+the responsibilities of life pressed but lightly. She would at times
+glance from him to the sergeant and note the difference between the
+two--one gay, talkative, and dependent; the other reserved, quiet,
+and self-reliant. She never associated Tom Rolfe with great deeds
+of daring, but with John North it was different. To her he was the
+very embodiment of a true hero. His lithe, powerful body, his strong,
+clean-cut features, and steady gray eyes appealed to her. It almost
+frightened her at times to think that she had won the love of such a
+man, and that she loved him.
+
+She thought of all this as she huddled there before the fire with the
+tempest raging overhead. She pictured her lover out in the storm,
+where, she did not know. And he was doing it for her sake, that she
+might be saved. Upon himself he had taken the hardships and dangers of
+the journey. That was always the way of a strong man. He had not asked
+the constable to go, while he remained behind. Her heart thrilled at
+the idea, and she longed to tell him how proud she was of him.
+
+Slowly the weary hours dragged by, and when at length the dawn of a
+new day dispelled the blackness of night, the storm slackened. The
+wind gradually died down, and the snow ceased to fall. The constable
+replenished the pile of wood while Marion prepared their meagre
+breakfast. How tired they both were of moose meat, and yet there was
+nothing else to keep life within their bodies.
+
+“Meat! meat! meat!” Rolfe exclaimed, as he staggered in and threw down
+an armful of dry sticks. “I shall write a poem about that some day, and
+make the word rhyme with ‘beat’ and ‘feet.’ Why, I am inspired now,
+listen to this:
+
+  “Meat! meat! meat!
+   It keeps me on my feet
+   When I would go dead beat,
+   And so I eat, eat, eat.”
+
+Marion smiled as she handed the constable a piece of broiled steak.
+
+“Perhaps this will inspire you to make another masterpiece,” she
+bantered. “I am very thankful to be able to contribute something to the
+work of a genius. Poets must eat, I suppose.”
+
+“Right you are,” Rolfe replied. “They often wrote about eating. I
+remember what Bobbie Burns said:
+
+  “Some hae meat and canna eat,
+     And some wad eat that want it;
+   But we hae meat, and we can eat;
+     Sae let the Lord be thankit.”
+
+“Yes, we hae meat,” he commented, looking somewhat ruefully upon his
+piece of burned steak, “but I wonder if Bobbie would say ‘Let the Lord
+be thankit,’ if he had nothing but this?”
+
+“But you have an appetite,” Marion reminded. “Didn’t the poet say that
+‘Some hae meat and canna eat’? You should be thankful for that. I am,
+anyway, and I find this meat very good.”
+
+Both Marion and Rolfe were feeling more cheerful now. This little round
+of levity did much to dispel the clouds of despair which overshadowed
+them during the night. The passing of the storm also had its effect,
+so they looked hopefully forward to a speedy relief from their trying
+situation. But as the morning wore away and the afternoon was partly
+sped, and the sergeant had not come, the feeling of deep concern again
+oppressed them. They tried to be cheerful, and not to betray their
+anxiety to each other. But their hearts were troubled, for they both
+strongly felt that something had happened to the one who alone could
+bring them the needed help. Rolfe had just replenished the fire for the
+hundredth time during the day, and was on the point of going after more
+wood for the night, when a cry of joy from Marion caused him to look
+quickly around. At first he could hardly believe his eyes, for there
+was Hugo, the trapper, coming toward them among the trees with great
+strides. A toboggan trailed behind, containing a bundle, and a pair of
+snow-shoes. His beard was thickly coated with frost, and he had the
+appearance of Santa Claus on his mission of goodwill.
+
+After her cry of joy Marion was too much overcome to utter another word
+until Hugo had thrown the rope from off his shoulders, and stepped
+from his snow-shoes. She then sprang to his side, and impulsively
+threw her arms around his huge body, much to Rolfe’s surprise. Tears
+of thankfulness were streaming down her cheeks as she looked into her
+father’s face.
+
+“Thank God, you have come!” she at length murmured. “But have you met
+Sergeant North? Is he safe?”
+
+It was well for Marion’s peace of mind that she did not notice the
+expression which leaped into Hugo’s eyes as she asked that question.
+She wondered, though, why her father somewhat roughly unclasped her
+arms and moved closer to the fire. She mistook his meaning, thinking
+that he was the bearer of bad news which he was loath to impart. Her
+face turned very white.
+
+“Has anything happened to him?” she asked in a voice that was almost a
+whisper. “Surely he is not dead.”
+
+“No, he is not dead,” Hugo replied, without looking at her. “At least,
+he wasn’t the last time I saw him. But he was in a bad way when I
+stumbled across him in that storm. But never mind about him now. How
+are you two making out? Plenty of grub, eh?”
+
+“Just what you see there,” Rolfe replied, pointing to the last of the
+moose meat hanging from the limb of a tree. “We’ve had nothing but meat
+diet for days.”
+
+“Well, you might be worse off, young man,” Hugo reminded, looking
+keenly at the constable. “But I’ve something here which will be a
+change. It’s all I could scrape together, but I guess it will last
+until we get out of this. We must not stay long, for the sergeant, in
+whom you are so much interested, is waiting our coming several miles
+away.”
+
+This was good news to Marion and Rolfe. They asked several more
+questions, but receiving no satisfactory reply, they desisted. Hugo had
+brought some tea, and when this had been prepared in a small tin can
+which he always carried with him, they were greatly refreshed. He had
+also a supply of “sourdough” bread, and a tin of jam. To the ones who
+had been living for days upon meat these proved great delicacies.
+
+“Why, this is regular hotel fare,” Rolfe remarked, as he helped himself
+to a second large slice of bread. “We only need the napkins and a few
+other accessories to make it the real thing.”
+
+Marion smiled, but Hugo seemed to take no notice of the young man’s
+remarks. In fact, he had not heard him. His mind was upon more
+important matters. He was tired, as well, for he had been on the
+march through most of the storm, and long before dawn that day. He
+did not tell of the terrible struggle he had made to reach his cabin
+far beyond the valley, of his brief rest there while he packed up his
+meagre supply of food, and his starting forth again before the storm
+had spent its fury. It was not his way to tell of such things. He had
+accomplished his purpose, and that gave him all the satisfaction he
+needed.
+
+But he was greatly disappointed. He had done it all for Marion’s sake,
+and upon his arrival at the camp in the forest her first question was
+about the sergeant. She had come to him from that world which he never
+expected to see again. She had brought a new inspiration into his life.
+She had changed him until he hardly knew himself. And yet for all
+that she was not his. She belonged to another, a member of the Force
+from which he had been fleeing for years. And yet he knew it was his
+own fault. He had left her and her mother to face the reproach of the
+world, and like a coward had fled to the wilderness. But Marion had
+followed him! She had found him! Surely there must be love in her heart
+for her wayward father.
+
+All this swept through his mind during the short time he rested at
+the camping-place. There were other things as well which caused him
+considerable uneasiness, all of which, however, he wisely kept to
+himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 20
+
+United Forces
+
+
+The sun of the short winter day was sinking below the distant mountain
+peaks away to the west. It touched with its departing rays three forms
+moving slowly across a vast desolate waste of snow. Hugo, the trapper,
+and Tom Rolfe, the constable, were in harness, drawing the toboggan on
+which Marion was seated. The men were on snow-shoes, with Hugo ahead,
+with ropes across their shoulders. They were part way over the burnt
+region where the sergeant had been overcome by the storm when the
+sun went down. Ahead in the distance where the trees stood thick and
+sombre, they planned to rest for the night. Here they hoped to find the
+sergeant, and Marion’s heart beat fast at the thought of meeting him
+again.
+
+It was dark by the time they reached the edge of the forest, and a few
+rods among the trees they found the sergeant standing before a cheerful
+fire. His face brightened with joy as he saw them, and in another
+minute he had Marion clasped in his arms. Hugo and Rolfe pretended not
+to notice the meeting of the lovers, but busied themselves about the
+fire.
+
+Strange thoughts were beating through the trapper’s mind for all his
+apparent unconcern. How he longed for Marion to greet him in such an
+affectionate manner as she did the sergeant. He was her father, while
+the other she had known but a short time. A sudden impulse swept upon
+him to get off by himself, and forget forever that he had a daughter.
+He would crush out every vestige of affection from his heart, and turn
+his hand more strongly than ever against all mankind. He had been a
+weak fool to be so easily deluded by mere sentiment.
+
+He straightened himself up with a jerk from his bending position. Yes,
+he would go at once, pretending that he had business elsewhere. But
+just then Sergeant North stepped toward him, and held out his hand.
+
+“I want to thank you for what you have done,” he began. “I can never
+repay you. Let us henceforth be friends.”
+
+Taken completely aback by this unexpected move, Hugo hesitated. It
+was only for a minute, however, and then he drew his body to its full
+height and looked steadily into the eyes of the man standing before him.
+
+“How can we be friends?” he asked. “Am not I a suspected criminal? Have
+you not been seeking me for years? But for a peculiar turn of events,
+I would now be away in the fastness of the hills where you could never
+find me. I am your prisoner now, so how can captor and captive be
+friends?”
+
+“You are no captive of mine,” the sergeant calmly replied. “You may
+leave this place whenever you wish, and no hand will be raised to
+restrain you. I never yet arrested a man who did what you have done for
+us.”
+
+“But how can you face your commanding officer when you meet him if you
+let me go? In the eyes of the law I am a criminal. Have you forgotten
+that?”
+
+“I never knew it to forget, Hugo. Explain what you mean.”
+
+“About that murder near the C. D. Cut-Off, of course. Am I not
+suspected of that? Have you not been on my trail ever since you heard
+of my visit to the Kynox hospital with the little child?”
+
+“You are right, but only to a certain extent. Your actions naturally
+aroused our suspicions, especially after you fled that night from the
+cabin when we had taken shelter from the storm. But I had no orders
+from Headquarters to follow you. I merely took the matter into my own
+hands while on patrol from the river to The Gap. I wished to overtake
+you to find out from your own lips what you knew about that murder. But
+now I would no more think of suspecting you than I would Marion. You
+are too noble a man to do such a diabolical deed. Do you not believe
+me?”
+
+“And you say that you never had orders to follow me and arrest me?”
+Hugo asked in surprise. “Are you sure that the Force hasn’t been on
+the watch for me for years? Haven’t I been looked upon as a criminal
+escaped from justice?”
+
+Into the sergeant’s mind there came all at once something which partly
+explained the reason of the strange actions of the man standing
+before him. He had evidently been labouring for years under a great
+misapprehension. He had been obsessed with the idea that the Police
+were searching for him. It was quite apparent that the man had fled
+from the ways of civilisation, but to imagine that he could escape
+in the northland was ridiculous. Of all places on the earth the
+Yukon territory was the worst region for any criminal to flee for
+refuge. Here the two Divisions of the Mounted Police spread out their
+marvellous net into the most remote recesses. No miscreant had ever yet
+escaped, no matter to what part of the world he had fled. Had they
+wanted Hugo, the trapper, they could have taken him years ago. They
+knew of his wanderings, and his peculiarities. Although the man was a
+mystery, they never interfered with his manner of living. To them he
+was a harmless being, one of many dwelling in the country.
+
+“We never considered you as a criminal,” the sergeant replied. “We
+never had any orders to arrest you.”
+
+“You didn’t!” Hugo exclaimed. “Why, then, did you demand me to
+surrender when I found you wallowing about in the snow, overcome by the
+storm?”
+
+“I wanted to hold you that you might give evidence in the murder case.
+And, besides, I guess I must have been half crazy that day. I hardly
+knew what a fool-thing I was doing.”
+
+“H’m, you are certainly right. But it was a mighty plucky thing to do,
+as I told you then. Why, I could have knocked you on the head and no
+one would have been the wiser. It would have been charged to the storm.”
+
+“Why didn’t you do it? It was your great opportunity.”
+
+“Because I am not a brute. And, further, for my daughter’s sake. Now
+you understand.”
+
+“I do,” the sergeant replied. “And for her sake, if for nothing else,
+let us be friends.”
+
+Once more he held out his hand, which Hugo immediately grasped. For a
+few seconds they faced each other without a word. Their eyes met in
+a steady look, and their hearts thrilled. Thus two strong men became
+friends there in the heart of the great wilderness. The bond of union
+was sealed which neither would lightly break.
+
+All this had been of intense interest to Marion. She listened to the
+conversation, and studied the faces of the two men with fast-beating
+heart. But when they at length clasped hands, she sprang forward and
+threw her arms about her father. Her eyes were moist with tears, but
+her face was radiant with joy.
+
+“Oh, I am so glad, so glad!” she murmured. “Now we can all be happy.”
+
+“Why, yes, so we can,” Hugo replied, his heart lighter than it had been
+for years. “And something to eat will make us happier still.”
+
+“Supper all ready on the dining-car,” was the startling and unexpected
+announcement from Rolfe, who had been busy preparing the meal. His face
+was beaming with satisfaction as the three turned toward him. “Seats
+for two right here,” he continued, motioning to a blanket spread out
+upon some fir boughs. “Please walk this way.”
+
+“You are to be congratulated, Mr. Rolfe,” Marion smilingly told him.
+“You have served a wonderful supper.”
+
+“It certainly is, Miss Brisbane. Fried moose steak, with things we call
+‘potatoes,’ bread, hardtack, biscuits, jam, and tea. Say, this is a
+banquet after what we’ve been eating.”
+
+“Poetry, eh, Tom?” the sergeant queried. “Those are the best words I’ve
+heard you utter in a long time. That’s the kind of poetry which appeals
+to me.”
+
+“Oh, that’s nothing to what I can do, sergeant. Just listen to this:
+
+  “Give me, oh, give me, just as I am,
+   Potatoes and moose steak, hardtack and jam.
+
+“Doesn’t that strike you as a masterpiece? Let me sing it for you. I
+am sure you will enjoy it. I can add more lines as I go along.”
+
+“Mercy! Mercy, Tom!” the sergeant exclaimed, taking his seat at
+Marion’s side. “We’ve come through enough hardships of late. Do you
+wish to inflict on us any more?”
+
+“I only wanted to cheer you all up,” Rolfe explained. “After your most
+solemncoly and dramatic spiel, I thought a little diversion wouldn’t
+come amiss. However, if you don’t appreciate my efforts, I shall keep
+my great thoughts to myself. The course of true genius, like love,
+never did run smooth. I guess it’s something like what Crabbe, the
+poet, said:
+
+  “‘Genius! thou gift of Heav’n! thou light divine!
+    Amid what dangers art thou doom’d to shine!’”
+
+While Rolfe was thus talking, Hugo was watching him most intently. His
+gray eyes shone with humor, a striking contrast to the fire of fear and
+rage which had so often gleamed in those same orbs.
+
+“Young man,” he began, “your words do me good. It’s been long years
+since I have heard the light chatter of youth. Tragedy has been hanging
+dark over my life. It has surrounded me on every trail, and entered
+into my very soul. I have been a victim of gloom and despair. To me
+the past was as a closed book, the present a period of misery, and the
+future held out no hope. At times I had almost forgotten that I was
+a man, and was in danger of becoming a mere brute. But a change has
+taken place. The spirit of heaviness has been removed, and I see with
+other eyes. Give me your hand, young man, and let us shake. I like your
+buoyant spirit.”
+
+Rolfe was much surprised at this unexpected speech, and as he seized
+the trapper’s outstretched hand in a firm grip, his bronzed face
+flushed with pleasure.
+
+“Thank you, sir,” he replied. “I am pleased to know that you appreciate
+my poetic chatter, and that it has done something to dispel the clouds
+of darkness from your soul. I hope the rest of our discerning company
+will make a note of this. It is certainly great to have such peace
+and harmony reigning in our midst. This has been a regular old-time
+experience meeting. I shall now call on the sergeant to lead us in
+singing the ‘Doxology.’ He has a wonderful voice, which once heard can
+never be forgotten.”
+
+The truce agreed upon that night was a real one. It was a calm after
+storm, peace after conflict. All were weary after the toil of the day
+and for lack of sleep, and it was a great comfort to sit near the
+bright fire and talk about the events of the last few days. Marion’s
+face grew grave as Hugo told about finding the half-breed girl, lost,
+demented, and how he had taken her to one of his cabins, and from there
+to The Gap. He passed lightly over what that journey had meant to him,
+and how for several miles he had been forced to carry the unconscious
+girl in his arms.
+
+“Poor Zell!” Marion said. “She was so bright and animated when we left
+Big Chance. She was longing to hurry back to be once more with her
+wounded young lover. She must have become lost when she went after the
+wood.”
+
+“The girl was not lost at first,” Hugo replied. “She was carried off
+by that villain, Bill, the Slugger. I have proof, and when we come
+face to face there will be another kind of experience meeting. The
+mean, contemptible cur! Why, he even rewarded the hospitality of the
+missionary at The Gap, that noble man of God, by stealing all of his
+food, and lighting out some time in the night. It might be as well,
+sergeant, to round up that brute and ask him a few questions about that
+murder near the C. D. Cut-off.”
+
+“I am not surprised at what you tell me,” the sergeant replied. “Bill
+is a bad man, and we need him. I was hoping to be first at The Gap to
+head him off. The task will be much more difficult now, so we shall
+need your help.”
+
+“And you shall have it,” Hugo emphatically declared. “I shall do
+everything in my power to bring the guilty to justice.”
+
+For a long time that night the sergeant and Hugo talked after Marion
+and the constable were asleep. The trapper told all he knew about
+finding the Haines child in the lonely cabin, and the blood-stains
+leading to the river. But of the finding of the diamond ring he said
+nothing. He would explain about that when he received it from the
+missionary, and handed it over to the sergeant.
+
+“I never expected to tell you all this,” he said in conclusion. “I
+looked upon the Force as my deadly enemy, for reasons which you already
+partly know. What led me to flee to this country I do not wish to
+explain now. That can wait. But I see things in a new light, and I am
+glad. I have been living long enough in hell, but have at last escaped.
+There, now, I think we have talked enough. We need rest, for a hard
+journey lies ahead of us to-morrow.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 21
+
+Helping Hands
+
+
+Indian Tom had made special preparations for his trip to the hills. He
+kept his plans to himself, merely telling Kate that he hoped to bring
+back a fat mountain sheep. Old though he was, it was nothing out of the
+ordinary for him to go a short distance from The Gap and return with
+fresh meat. Kate, with her keen intuition, surmised that her husband
+had something more important in his mind, and that he intended going
+farther than usual. She made no comment, however, for Tom was master
+of his own affairs, and possessed of a strong will. Kate, like other
+Indian women, had been trained from childhood to be silent and to wait.
+
+With everything in readiness, Tom planned to start early the next
+morning. With his pack of food strapped across his shoulders, moccasins
+on his feet, and rifle in hand, he slipped forth from his cabin and
+made his way to the mission house. He wished to see the Gikhi, to tell
+him that he would be away for several days, and to ask him to look
+after the welfare of his wife and Zell. He knew that the missionary was
+an early riser, and expected to find him seated at the table busy with
+his writing. He had often visited the house early in the morning and
+had always seen the light shining through the little window.
+
+As he drew near the mission house he was surprised to find it wrapped
+in darkness. The Gikhi must have overslept himself, he thought, and at
+first he hesitated about awaking him. But as his business was of urgent
+importance, he tapped upon the door, and then pushed it gently open.
+All was dark within and the room was cold. A fear that something was
+wrong suddenly entered his mind. He took a few steps forward, and then
+stopped to listen. But not a sound could he hear.
+
+“Gikhi!” he called.
+
+Receiving no reply, he felt certain that something had happened to
+his beloved missionary. Laying aside his rifle, he brought forth from
+a pocket of his jacket a small candle. This he lighted, and when the
+flame was large enough, he looked carefully around. At first he could
+see nothing, but as he advanced to examine the bedroom, his eyes
+rested upon the form of the missionary lying upon the floor near the
+table. With a gurgle of consternation, Tom stooped and looked upon the
+prostrate man. He felt his face, and found that it was strangely cold.
+Quickly placing the candle upon the table, he lifted the missionary
+in his arms, carried him over and laid him down upon the cot on the
+other side of the stove. Going back for the candle, he looked keenly
+around. But nothing could he see to give him any clue to the cause of
+the trouble. He then went over to the cot, and again felt the still,
+cold face. He placed his ear close to the missionary’s mouth, but could
+detect no sign of life.
+
+Forgotten now was his visit to the hills. His only thought was for
+his beloved missionary. He needed help, and the only one who could be
+of any assistance was his wife. Leaving the house, he hurried to his
+own cabin, told Kate in a few words what he had found, and ordered
+her to come at once. Zell was sleeping quietly, so following her
+husband, Kate was soon at the mission house. She rushed at once to the
+missionary’s side, and looking upon him lying there so still and white,
+a great cry of grief broke from her lips.
+
+“Gikhi! Gikhi!” she called.
+
+But for the first time no response came to her earnest appeal. The man
+who had led her out of darkness of heathenism was deaf to her voice.
+Wildly she looked around, and then up into Tom’s face.
+
+“Is he dead?” she asked. “Has someone killed him?”
+
+“It looks like it,” Tom replied, placing the forefinger of his right
+hand close to the side of the missionary’s head. “See! See! Blood!
+Gikhi has been shot! Bad! Ugh!”
+
+Then a wild rage filled his heart. The spirit of revenge, inherited
+from countless generations of warriors, possessed him. The Gikhi, the
+man who meant so much to him, had been shot by an enemy! He surmised
+who it was, for no one but Bill, the Slugger, was in the neighbourhood.
+Swiftly he turned and spoke a few rapid words to his wife. He next set
+to work and built a fire in the stove. In a short time the genial heat
+was pervading the room. He then started to work upon the body of the
+missionary, rubbing the cold form and applying hot cloths.
+
+Night passed, and morning dawned, but still Tom remained at his task.
+Could he ever bring life into that still form? But at length he was
+rewarded, for slowly a warmth returned to the body, and the beating of
+the heart could be detected. Kate went back to her own cabin to see how
+Zell was getting along, and returned ere long with a cup containing a
+little Indian medicine, concocted the previous summer from various
+roots and herbs. Between the missionary’s firm-set teeth some of
+this was pressed, and in a short time the faithful natives had the
+satisfaction of seeing the Gikhi give a sigh and open his eyes. He then
+closed them again, and remained as motionless as before.
+
+All through the morning the Indians did what they could for the
+missionary. They knew, however, that their efforts were but temporary,
+and that the white doctor at Kynox was urgently needed. But who could
+go for him? There was not an Indian runner anywhere near, and the
+hospital was far away.
+
+Several times during the morning Kate went over to see how Zell was
+getting along. The girl, who was now greatly improved, wondered at
+the Indian woman’s excited manner, and why she was in such a hurry to
+return to the mission house. She questioned her, but received only an
+evasive answer. Zell had now reached the stage of recovery when she was
+restless and impatient to be doing something. Although still weak from
+the terrible experiences through which she had passed, she was anxious
+to go back to Tim, and to take the Gikhi with her. How they would go,
+she had no definite idea. But her faith in the missionary was so great
+that she believed he could do the impossible. She had not spoken to him
+as yet about her injured lover at Big Chance. She wanted to see him
+alone, when Tom and Kate were not present. She was greatly worried,
+too, about the white woman she had left by the camp-fire that night of
+the terrible happenings. She had spoken of her to Tom and Kate, but
+they knew nothing. Her mind was still confused and it was difficult for
+her to think very clearly. But Tim and the white woman were ever before
+her. They were in need, so she must go to them. The Gikhi alone was
+the one who could help her.
+
+All through the morning Zell worried and wondered. She dragged her
+weak body to the little window facing the mission house and watched
+through a small clear space in the frost-bedecked panes. It was a
+lonely vigil she kept, for Kate was a long time in coming. What could
+be keeping her and Tom so long with the Gikhi? She looked westward and
+the great towering mountains met her eyes. The Golden Horn, robed in
+its snowy mantle, caught the bright beams of the winter sun, and smiled
+its benediction over the stark and silent land. Far away in a little
+crouching creek at its base was Big Chance, where lay the one she loved
+most on earth. And she could not go to him. She did not know whether
+he was dead or alive. Tears came to her eyes and flowed down her
+cheeks. Her face was wan and pale, a striking contrast to her animated
+countenance of a few days before.
+
+At last she felt that she could endure the suspense no more. Kate had
+been away longer than usual, and she was sure that something was wrong
+with Gikhi. Picking up a blanket and wrapping it about her head and
+shoulders in Indian fashion, she left the cabin, and slowly made her
+way along the path leading to the mission house. Several times she
+tottered, so weak was she, but at length reaching the door, she leaned
+against the building and listened. Hearing no sound from within, she
+softly pushed open the door and entered. The sight which met her eyes
+caused her to pause and her heart to beat fast. She saw the Gikhi lying
+upon the cot, with Kate kneeling by his side, and Tom standing a few
+feet away. With a cry which caused Kate to leap to her feet, the girl
+rushed forward. She reached the cot, and exhausted by the exertion,
+she dropped upon her knees and threw her arms over the still form lying
+there. Not a word did she utter, but sobbed as if her heart would break.
+
+Kate and Tom looked upon the weeping girl with surprise, and spoke
+low to each other. Then the woman laid her right hand upon the girl’s
+shoulder and gently shook her.
+
+“You should not be here,” she reproved. “This is no place for you.”
+
+But Zell made no reply. If she heard what was said she gave no sign,
+but with outstretched arms and bent head continued her sobbing.
+
+Kate spoke more sharply to her now, and tried to draw her away. This
+aroused the girl, and she turned fiercely upon the woman.
+
+“Leave me alone,” she cried. “I have the right to be here. Gikhi was
+good to me, and now he is dead!”
+
+Again she bowed her head and remained perfectly motionless, Kate and
+Tom watching her, not knowing what to do. The girl puzzled them. They
+knew that she had run away from the mission school, which had been a
+great grief to the missionary and his wife. Now she had come back, and
+avowed her love for the Gikhi.
+
+They were still standing there when a noise outside arrested their
+attention. Then a knock sounded upon the door. As no one entered, Tom
+crossed the room, opened the door and looked out. Standing before him
+were four weary-looking people, three of whom he at once recognised.
+But the white woman he did not know.
+
+“Is the missionary at home?” Sergeant North asked, surprised to see the
+Indian.
+
+Tom, however, made no reply, but stared intently at the sergeant.
+
+“Is anything wrong with the missionary?” the sergeant asked. “Is he
+sick?”
+
+“Ah, ah, Gikhi much seek,” Tom replied. “Gikhi all sam’ dead.”
+
+With a bound the sergeant was in the room, closely followed by his
+companions. Hearing the strange voices, Zell lifted her head and looked
+around. Seeing Marion, she staggered to her feet, and with a pathetic
+cry of joy and surprise started to go to her. But the recent excitement
+had been too much for her. She tottered and would have fallen had not
+Hugo sprang forward and caught her in his arms.
+
+“What is the meaning of all this?” he asked, looking sternly at Kate.
+“What has happened to the missionary?”
+
+“Bad white man shoot Gikhi,” the Indian woman explained. “Here,”
+and she placed her hand to her head. “Put Zell in room,” she added,
+pointing to the bedroom on the left.
+
+Hugo did as he was ordered, carried the unconscious girl into the
+little room, and laid her gently upon the bed. Marion followed, and
+bent over the girl. Then she went to the door and spoke to Kate.
+
+“Bring me some cold water,” she ordered. “Quick.”
+
+When this was brought, she bathed Zell’s face, and ere long had the
+satisfaction of seeing the girl open her eyes. For an instant she
+stared at Marion, and then the light of recognition dawned in her eyes,
+and her lips parted in a smile.
+
+“Are you feeling better now?” Marion asked.
+
+“Yes, better. But how did you come here? Where have you been? I thought
+you were lost.”
+
+“I am safe, Zell,” was the reply. “But never mind about that now. I
+shall tell you later.”
+
+Marion was about to leave to go back into the other room, when Zell
+caught her by the hand.
+
+“Save the Gikhi’s life,” she pleaded. “Don’t let him die. I want him to
+speak to me again, to tell me that he forgives me.”
+
+“I shall do what I can for him,” Marion assured. “But if he has been
+shot, he will need more aid than I can give.”
+
+“The doctor, you mean?”
+
+“Yes. I wish Dr. Rainsford could come. He might be able to find the
+bullet and save the missionary’s life.”
+
+“Can’t some one go for him?” Zell asked. “Oh, if I were only strong,
+I would go myself. Perhaps he is at Big Chance now. You said he would
+come to see Tim, didn’t you, Miss?”
+
+“I left word at Kynox for him to come as soon as he arrived. But that
+seems a long time ago now, and he may have made the trip and returned
+to Kynox.”
+
+“But perhaps he has remained to look after Tim,” Zell eagerly
+suggested. “Something tells me that he is at Big Chance now. Wouldn’t
+he come like the wind if he knew the Gikhi needed him?”
+
+“I believe he would,” Marion agreed. “The doctor is a remarkable man,
+and always willing to make any sacrifice in order to help others.”
+
+“But how can we get word to him? Who will make the long, hard journey?”
+
+“I will.”
+
+Marion gave a sudden start, and looked quickly round at these words.
+Just behind her stood her father, bulking large in the doorway.
+
+“The girl is right,” he said. “I happened to overhear what she said.
+The doctor may be at Big Chance. Anyway, if he isn’t there he will be
+somewhere.”
+
+“And you will go--father!” Marion exclaimed in surprise.
+
+“If I don’t, who will? The missionary is too good a man to let die
+without making an effort to save his life.”
+
+“But suppose you are overtaken by a storm, a snow-slide, a pack of
+wolves, or some other terrible thing? That trail over which we came
+lies right in the very shadow of death.”
+
+Hugo merely smiled at his daughter’s anxiety. How could he explain
+that dangers meant nothing to him? The wilderness was his home, and
+a journey which might appal others was as life to his being. He also
+kept to himself another reason why he wished to go for the doctor. He
+believed that the diamond ring which he had intrusted to the missionary
+was the cause of the shooting. He had made a brief search for it, but
+could not find it. There was but one explanation, according to his way
+of thinking. Someone must have been watching through the window that
+night he had given the ring to Charles Norris. Only one man in the
+vicinity, he felt certain, would commit such a deed. Hugo, accordingly,
+felt somewhat responsible for what had happened to the missionary, and
+it was necessary for him to do all in his power to help him.
+
+Leaving the bedroom, Marion went to the side of the unconscious man.
+She looked upon his pale face and long beard. How noble he seemed lying
+there, like a warrior at rest, so she thought. He was breathing, but so
+low that only with difficulty could it be detected. The sergeant was
+standing near, while the constable was at the stove preparing something
+for supper. Tom and Kate were nowhere to be seen. They had slipped out
+of the room and had gone to their own cabin shortly after the arrival
+of the white people.
+
+“What are we to do, Marion?” the sergeant asked. “This is a bad job,
+and the man responsible for this deed must be brought to justice. But
+in the meantime what are we going to do with this man?”
+
+“Suppose we move him from here,” Marion suggested. “Isn’t that his
+bedroom over there?” and she looked toward a door on the left. “You men
+can carry him in while I go and prepare the bed.”
+
+In a few minutes this was done. The missionary was laid gently upon
+his own bed, and for a time he was left alone. A little later Rolfe
+summoned them to supper, and while they were eating they discussed
+their plans for the future. Marion agreed to remain with the missionary.
+
+“Zell will be with me,” she explained, “and I know that the Indian
+woman who was here when we came will do what she can. I hope that you
+all will be back soon without any mishap.”
+
+“I am sorry to leave you,” the sergeant replied, “but there is nothing
+else to do. It is our duty, you see, and that must come first.”
+
+“Oh, I hope nothing will happen to you out there. The mountains beyond
+here are very dangerous places, so I have heard. Will you follow right
+after that wretched man?”
+
+“Yes, until we find him dead or alive. But I don’t believe he will be
+very far away, owing to the injury to his foot. You remember what Hugo
+told us.”
+
+“But he can shoot, though. He can hide and watch you coming, and can
+shoot you both down.”
+
+“We shall have to take that risk, Marion. But I guess we are too old
+hands to be caught napping, are we not, Tom?”
+
+“I guess you’re right, sergeant,” Rolfe replied. “Why, we’re going to
+do wonders out there. Some day I shall write a poem about it which
+will beat Tennyson’s ‘Charge of the Light Brigade’ all to pieces. It
+will tell about Sergeant North leading a lone constable into the jaws
+of death with mountain to the right of them, with mountain to the left
+of them, with mountain in front of them. Such a poem should make me
+famous.”
+
+“That will be too much of a fuss about the pursuit of one man, and lame
+at that,” the sergeant dryly replied. “Surely you can hit upon a more
+heroic subject.”
+
+“Oh, I’ll make it heroic enough, sergeant, never fear. I shall bring in
+about a lone woman left in fear and trembling, while two heroes marched
+forth to avenge the wrong done to an old man. Never you mind, I shall
+fix it up in great style.”
+
+Leaving the men to continue their talking, Marion arose and went into
+the bedroom where the missionary was lying. He was just as she had
+left him. Sitting down by his side, she watched him. A great respect
+for this man stole into her heart. She had heard much about him, and
+his wonderful devotion and self-sacrifice. Her heart thrilled at the
+thought of what he had given up for a great Cause. And was this to
+be the end of it all? No worldly applause, no honor, and an apparent
+defeat of all his efforts. She spoke of it that night to the sergeant
+as they sat talking while the rest slept.
+
+“Is such a life wasted?” she asked. “Will there be no result of all his
+labors?”
+
+“His work can never die,” the sergeant quietly replied. “The Indians
+have deserted him and his teaching for a time. But it cannot be for
+long. Some day, I believe, they will see the error of their ways and
+return to him again.”
+
+“But suppose he should die?”
+
+“Then another will reap the harvest. One sows and another reaps.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 22
+
+The Messenger
+
+
+From early dawn Tom, the Indian, had been on the trail. Dusk was
+settling over the land as he paused on the brow of a hill and looked
+anxiously down into the valley below. His eyes were keenly alert,
+his ears attentive to the least sound, and he sniffed the air for
+the camp-fire scent. He was weary, and longed to rest. But he had
+an important mission to fulfil, so he could not stop until that was
+accomplished. He was old and unaccustomed to hard travelling. His
+trips of late had been to the hills surrounding The Gap for mountain
+sheep, grouse, and ptarmigan. Only a great incentive had induced
+him to undertake this venture. He had his doubts as to how he would
+be received by the Indians scattered over the hunting-grounds. They
+had acted in a strange and rebellious mood of late, so the hope of
+influencing them was not very encouraging. But the vision of a wronged
+girl and the wounded Gikhi animated his soul, and inspired him with an
+overmastering determination. If what had recently happened at The Gap
+would not open the eyes of the Indians and give them a change of heart,
+nothing else would. He felt that the time was opportune, and that he
+must make the most of it.
+
+Leaving the brow of the hill he descended into the valley, and ere long
+had the satisfaction of seeing a light among the trees not far ahead.
+That Indians were encamped there was certain, and in a few minutes
+he came in sight of a big log lean-to where a number of natives were
+gathered around a cheerful fire. Several dogs heralded his approach,
+while a number of men leaped to their feet and ordered the animals to
+be still. In another minute Tom was in their midst, and accorded a
+hearty welcome. All were glad to see him for his sake alone, if for
+nothing else. They concealed their curiosity, for they were well aware
+that only a matter of extreme importance would bring the old man so far
+from his home in the dead of winter.
+
+About a dozen people, men, women, and children, were encamped here.
+They were a hardy lot, well enured to the cold, and living the simple
+life. This was their natural domain, and here they were free from the
+vices of the frontier towns and mining camps. Could they have been
+kept here, all would have been well with them. But the attractions
+and temptations of lighted streets, gaily-bedecked stores, and warm
+saloons, were hard to be resisted. Such things formed the principal
+topic of conversation during the long winter evenings, and all looked
+eagerly forward to spring when they could once more gratify their
+desires.
+
+Tom knew of all this and how hard it would be for them to be drawn away
+from such allurements. He felt that he might influence the older ones,
+but had little hope of doing anything with the young men and women.
+He did not at first explain the purpose of his coming, but after he
+had eaten the food which was set before him, he sat near the fire and
+talked about many things except that which was nearest his heart. He
+heard also how the Indians were getting along with their season’s hunt,
+as well as bits of gossip from other encampments.
+
+After a while, however, Tom laid aside the pipe he was smoking, and
+took a little book from a pocket inside his buckskin jacket. This he
+opened, and then looked around upon his companions.
+
+“You all know what this is,” he began. “It was given to us by the
+Gikhi at The Gap. Some of you remember when the Gikhi first came to
+live among us. His body was strong then, his eyes bright, and his hair
+black. We opposed him, and the medicine men stirred us up against him.
+Several times we tried to kill him, but the Great Spirit always saved
+the Gikhi. He was good to us, and when a plague came upon us, he cared
+for us, nursed us when we were sick, and saved many lives. When we
+were hungry he always shared with us his food. But he did more than
+that. He started a school for our little ones, taught them to read and
+write, and how to do many useful things. Above all, he gave us the
+Great Message which changed our lives, and lifted us from the level
+of the brutes. Before he came, we treated our wives like slaves, and
+worse than dogs. Now it is altogether different. Our wives are our
+companions, and we use them right. Before the Gikhi came, baby girls
+were badly treated. Mothers often let them die rather than permit them
+to grow up to lead hard lives. Now our little ones are well cared for.
+Before the Gikhi came, we were always waging war upon neighbouring
+tribes. We thirsted for battle and slaughter. Now we are all living
+in peace. And before the Gikhi came we allowed our old Indians to die
+without any care. We would abandon them on the trails, and let them
+perish. That is all changed now, and our old men and women are well
+looked after. Before the Gikhi came we had no knowledge of Him who came
+on earth and died that we might be saved. We know now. The Gikhi did
+all that for us. He gave us this book, and taught us how to read it.
+Here we find the Great Message of life and Eternal Hope, hope which we
+never had before. Our little ones have been taught to sing hymns, and
+you all remember what wonderful services we had in the church which the
+Gikhi built. We were very happy then, and all looked forward to coming
+back to The Gap to hear the Message from the Gikhi’s lips.”
+
+Tom paused, while a sad expression overspread his face. He noted how
+intently all had listened to his words. He believed that he was making
+some impression upon them.
+
+“A great change came,” he continued, “which broke up the Gikhi’s work.
+Gold was discovered, and the white men flocked into our country, and
+you know what they did. They brought in hootch which ruined our young
+men and women, and many of the older ones, too. Our girls were led
+astray, and the school broken up. The influence of the Gikhi was gone,
+for the Indians nearly all left him. His wife died, I believe through
+grief. She loved the Indians, and she was always a friend to them. The
+Gikhi was left alone, but every night he rang the little bell and held
+service in the church. He always prayed that the Indians would come
+back, and he said that he wanted to be there when they came. But now I
+am afraid it will be too late, and that the Indians will never see the
+Gikhi again.”
+
+Again Tom paused, and for a few seconds he sat very still, his head
+bent forward. That he was in deep grief, the Indians were well aware.
+
+“Has Tom bad news to give?” one of the natives asked. “Is the Gikhi
+sick?”
+
+“Ah, ah, the Gikhi is more than sick,” Tom replied, as he lifted his
+head. “An enemy came at night and shot the Gikhi.”
+
+At these words the men sprang to their feet and a babel of voices
+ensued. Tom was plied with questions, so he told all he knew, and also
+about what had happened to Zell. Deep, burning indignation filled the
+hearts of all present, and they vowed vengeance upon the one who had
+committed the dastardly deed.
+
+“Where is Bill now?” was asked.
+
+“Somewhere in the mountains,” Tom explained. “The Police are after him.
+They will catch him before long, and take him back to The Gap.”
+
+“The Indians will help to catch Bill,” a stalwart hunter announced.
+“They will track him down.”
+
+“Let the Police do that,” Tom replied. “The Indians must go back to The
+Gap. They must show their love for the Gikhi. They must give up their
+bad ways. They have wandered too far already, but it is not too late.
+Will the Indians do that?”
+
+The critical moment had at last arrived, and Tom anxiously waited for a
+reply. He knew how much these Indians had been stirred by what they had
+just heard. But would it affect their actions? And while he waited, the
+oldest hunter present lifted his hand for silence.
+
+“We have just received very sad and important news,” he began. “It
+is a great grief to us to learn what has happened to the Gikhi. Our
+hearts are all the more sad because we have left him and neglected
+his teachings. I have been thinking much this winter while out in the
+mountains. I have seen our young men and women wandering into strange
+trails, and leading lives far worse than before the Gikhi came into
+our midst. It is not good for them, and unless a change takes place
+the Indians will all be ruined. I have been reading the little book
+that Gikhi gave us, and on many nights when alone by my camp-fire I
+have studied the Message of the Great White Chief who came to die for
+us. If we follow His trail all will be well. The Gikhi has told us what
+to do, and he himself has set us the example. He did not come among
+us to cheat us in trade. He did not use hard words, but was always
+gentle. He did not bring hootch among us, but he brought us the Living
+Message to save our souls. He became as one of us, sharing our joys
+and sorrows, and healing our bodies. And what have we done in return?
+We have been false to him who did so much for us. We have followed the
+trails of the enemy, and now one of their number has stricken down the
+Gikhi. Let us call all the Indians together, go back to The Gap, and be
+once more with the Gikhi. He may die, as Tom says, but let us be there
+when he starts on the Long Trail, and it may be that he will see and
+understand. Around our beloved Gikhi let us gather, old and young, and
+promise to be true to the teaching of the Great White Chief in Heaven.
+All who agree with what I have said let them now speak.”
+
+For a few minutes there was silence when the old Indian had finished.
+At length one by one the hunters expressed their views, and all with
+one consent agreed to return to The Gap, and renew their allegiance. It
+was an impressive scene to behold those husky natives give voice to the
+strong conviction which animated their souls. Tom’s eyes glowed with
+pleasure, and when the men ceased speaking, he lifted up the book he
+had been holding in his hand.
+
+“Let this be our guide,” he said. “What it contains will do us more
+good than the words of the bad white men. I am now going to read a
+Message from the Great White Chief.”
+
+Then in a clear voice he read in the rhythmical native tongue the story
+which can never grow old, of the Good Shepherd seeking the sheep which
+had gone astray in the wilderness until He found it. He read the words
+with intense pathos, and when he had ended, he closed the book, and
+lifting up his voice, he began the hymn of “Nearer My God to Thee,” of
+which the Indians were very fond.
+
+  “Ndo nyet nyakkwum Ttia
+   Ndo nyet nyakkwum,
+   Kwizyit nititae,
+   Guselshit chi.
+   Tthui sih chilig telya
+   Ndo nyet nyakkwum Ttia,
+   Ndo nyet nyakkwum.”
+
+The hymn ended, Tom dropped upon his knees, his companions doing
+likewise, and offered up a few simple prayers, one of which was an
+earnest appeal that the Gikhi might be spared, and that the Indians
+might once more return to the right way. He concluded with the Lord’s
+Prayer, in which all joined. As their voices rose as one, all of Tom’s
+fears were removed. He believed that these Indians would remain true,
+and that never again would they be induced to go astray.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 23
+
+Rejected
+
+
+Early the next morning Tom left the encampment and headed eastward. He
+was greatly encouraged at the reception he had received from this first
+group of Indians, and he hoped that all the others would be of the
+same mind. He had some doubt, however, concerning a large band about
+fifteen miles away. Numerous young people were there, who more than the
+rest had become completely infatuated with the ways of Belial. They,
+like a certain class in modern society of white folks, looked with
+contempt upon the old-fashioned ways of their parents. They scoffed at
+the Gikhi and his teaching as out of date, or suitable only for women
+and children. Their chief delight was to visit the nearest town, array
+themselves in the finest clothes they could buy, strut up and down the
+streets, displaying their cheap and gaudy jewelry. Had they stopped at
+that it would not have been so bad. But they did far worse, both young
+men and women alike.
+
+Tom knew of all this, yet he hoped that out in the mountains, away from
+such contaminating influences, they would more readily listen to his
+message, and that their hearts would be touched by the condition of
+their once beloved Gikhi. He believed that they had not wandered so far
+but that they could be induced to return to the right way. Anyway, he
+considered it his duty to speak to them. So much in earnest was this
+old Indian, and advancing years had increased his intensity, that he
+did not feel at peace while so many of his people were wandering from
+the fold. So long as a little strength remained, he was determined to
+do what he could.
+
+Twice during the day he met several Indians along the trail. To them
+he gave his message, telling of the willingness of the ones he had met
+the night before to go back to The Gap and renew their allegiance.
+These listened with great interest, and all expressed themselves ready
+to join in the return to the fold. They asked many questions about
+the Gikhi, and Tom told them all he knew, and also about Zell and the
+miserable white man who had injured her.
+
+Tom was thus more encouraged than ever. He was meeting with unexpected
+success, and he sped on his way with renewed energy. As the afternoon
+waned, and the sun went down, he became very weary. The excitement of
+the day, and the toilsome journey, were telling upon him. Every hill
+he faced seemed harder than the last, and his snow-shoes were becoming
+very heavy. But still he struggled forward, knowing that the encampment
+for which he was heading was not far away. There he would receive a
+hearty welcome, and obtain the needed rest and food.
+
+At length the sound of voices fell upon his ears, and a light winged
+its way among the trees. Tom stopped abruptly, for what he heard filled
+him with apprehension. It was a confused babel of voices, telling
+plainly of serious trouble. Stepping quickly forward, he soon came
+in sight of the encampment, and in the shelter of the trees he stood
+for a few minutes and watched all that was taking place. He knew the
+meaning of the disorder only too well. Hootch was the cause, and he
+saw two white men mingling with the crowd. Some of the Indians were
+quarrelling, others were shouting and singing, while several were
+lying in a helpless condition a short distance from the fire. Old and
+young were giving themselves up to this wild carousal which was making
+the night hideous. The white men alone seemed to be sober, and were
+exulting in the debauch for which they were responsible.
+
+All this Tom noticed with disgust and burning indignation. At first
+he was tempted to turn away and leave the miserable creatures alone.
+But upon second thought he changed his mind. He needed refuge for the
+night, and he might be able to quell the revel, and bring the Indians
+to their senses. Surely the story he had to tell about the Gikhi would
+affect them.
+
+As Tom stepped forward, beat off several snapping dogs, and made his
+way into the midst of the Indians, he was greeted with shouts of
+welcome. No one seemed to be surprised at the sight of the old man. Had
+they been sober, their curiosity would have been great. They crowded
+around him, offering him hootch, and when he refused to drink, they
+laughed and called him an old fool. Freeing himself, he entered the
+lodge and squatted down upon some blankets spread over fir boughs. He
+wanted to rest and to consider what he should do. But even here he was
+allowed no peace. Again and again he was urged to drink, and when each
+time he refused, the Indians became more insistent, and some quite
+angry. The white men, too, were determined in their efforts, and it was
+all that Tom could do to keep calm. He contrasted this wild confusion
+with the quiet and peaceful scene of the previous evening. What a
+difference, and how little chance was there for him to deliver his
+great message. He knew that these excited people would not listen, and
+if they did, it would be only to ridicule him and the Gikhi. This was
+no place for him, so he concluded. He would leave them, build a fire
+some distance away, and there spend the night. Perhaps in the morning
+he would get a hearing.
+
+Acting upon this impulse, he rose to his feet, and started to move
+away. But the natives had other views. They pulled him back with shouts
+of laughter. The embarrassment of the old man was affording them
+considerable sport. They would not let him go until they were through
+with him. But Tom’s fighting blood was now aroused. In his younger days
+he had been a stern opponent, and although his body was weak through
+age, his spirit was just as strong as ever. His anger flared up at the
+sight of the two leering and amused white men. Why had his people been
+so deluded? Why did they not drive those foreigners from their midst?
+
+With difficulty he struggled to his feet, and impatiently thrust away
+the ones who were crowding around him. His eyes were now blazing
+with indignation. He drew himself to his full height, and his stern,
+commanding figure somewhat awed the excited men and women. They stepped
+back, ceased their noise, and listened. In fiery language Tom told them
+of the days of old, and of their happy condition at The Gap before the
+coming of the demoralizing hootch. He turned his wrath upon the two
+white men. He told them what one of their number had done to the Gikhi
+and Zell, the half-breed girl. He thought that this would bring the
+Indians to their senses, and his eyes noted keenly the expressions upon
+the faces of those around him. In fact, he did detect signs of sympathy
+in several eyes. But it was merely a passing emotion, for the liquor
+had too strong a hold upon them. Owing to the silence, he believed
+that he was really exerting some influence upon these people. But the
+entire effect of his oration was counteracted by a sneering laugh from
+one of the white men, followed by the words, “What is the old fool
+trying to say?” At this the young men burst into uproars of laughter in
+which most of the women joined. Tumult again broke forth, and when Tom
+tried once more to speak, he was jeered at, told to go back home and
+attend to his prayers. Stung to the quick by such taunts, Tom leaped
+forward and faced the nearest white man. Thinking that the Indian was
+going to attack him, the villain lifted his clenched fist and struck
+him a savage blow on the face.
+
+“Take that, you d-- crazy fool and mind your own business,” he cried.
+
+Tom staggered back, stunned by the blow, tripped over a stick and fell
+heavily to the ground. He struck the side of his forehead against a
+stick, and in another minute blood was streaming down his right cheek.
+Picking himself up with difficulty, he wiped away the blood and gazed
+around in a dazed manner. Nothing but shouts of merriment greeted his
+woeful appearance, and no one came to his assistance. He was in the
+midst of his own people, but they had returned to the ways of the wild
+where sympathy is unknown, and where on the slightest pretext they
+would have rent him asunder.
+
+Knowing now that further efforts would be all in vain, and wishing
+to be by himself, Tom moved slowly from the encampment. He was the
+dignified Indian once more, walking as erect as possible, paying no
+attention to the laughter and jibes which followed his departure. His
+forehead was sore, but much more so was his heart. His bright hopes
+had all vanished, and he was an outcast. His own people would not
+listen to his message, preferring the ways of evil.
+
+When some distance from the encampment, and beyond the sound of the
+revellers, he stopped, built a fire, spread a supply of fir boughs,
+and passed the night alone. No sleep came to his eyes as he squatted
+there thinking of all that had taken place. He knew how useless it
+would be to go back to those Indians in the morning. They would be
+either asleep, or more quarrelsome than ever owing to the effects of
+the liquor. They would not listen to him, anyway, so he believed. But
+he must have food, and the nearest place where this could be obtained
+was the police patrol-house miles away. He would go there, rest, and
+then make his way to the one more Indian encampment which he knew was
+beyond. Perhaps the Indians there might be willing to listen to him. He
+would try, anyway, even though they should reject his message.
+
+Long before daylight he was once more on his way. He had eaten the last
+of his small supply of dried meat he had brought with him, and this
+strengthened him for the journey. He hoped to reach the patrol-house
+some time during the day, and there he would find rest and food. He
+thought little, however, about himself. It was his own people that
+worried him, and the condition of the Gikhi at The Gap.
+
+Hour after hour he plodded steadily onward, up hill and down, through
+thick forests, across lakes, and long, sweeping wild meadows. He
+had travelled miles by the time the dawn of a new day dispelled the
+darkness of night, and the sun rose above the tops of the pointed
+trees. He followed no trail, and he needed none, for the region was
+familiar to him, and he was perfectly at home in the trackless wild.
+He passed places where he had often camped in former days, and where he
+had set his traps. The old longing for the chase came upon him, and his
+eyes kindled when he came to a spot where he had killed a lordly moose
+or battled with a fierce grizzly. But he was on a greater quest now, so
+he could not afford to delay.
+
+As the morning drew on to midday, Tom’s steps began to lag. He was
+growing weary, and ere long he was forced at times to stop to rest.
+Lack of food and the excitement of the previous night were telling upon
+him. He knew that he had only a few miles more to go, so by carefully
+conserving his strength he should be able to reach the patrol-house.
+His indomitable spirit stood him in good stead now, so bravely he
+pressed forward.
+
+The last mile proved the hardest of all, and his progress was
+exceptionally slow as he climbed another hill and paused on the summit.
+Down in the valley below was the police trail with the patrol-house
+nestling in the midst of a thicket of firs and jack-pines. Toward this
+he slowly moved, and at length the squat log shack appeared in sight.
+To his surprise he saw smoke issuing from the pipe stuck through the
+roof, telling him that there was someone ahead of him, and occupying
+the place. Perhaps the Police were there, and he hoped such was the
+case, as they would be of great service to him now.
+
+Reaching at length the building, he kicked off his snow-shoes, pushed
+open the door and entered. The room was warm, and for a few seconds it
+seemed very dark. As he stood there, peering keenly around, a groan
+arrested his attention. Then a muttering sound came from the corner
+to the right of the stove. Tom stepped quickly forward, and with his
+eyes now accustomed to the dimness of the room, he was enabled to see
+a form huddled in a bunk, covered with a single blanket. Bending low,
+he looked upon the man’s face, and as he did so, he gave a start of
+surprise, and straightened himself quickly up. It was Bill, the Slugger!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 24
+
+The Wages of Sin
+
+
+For a few minutes Tom was at a loss as to what he should do. Two forces
+contended strongly within him. One clamored for revenge, the other
+for mercy. Here before him was an unscrupulous enemy, the man who had
+injured the half-breed girl, who had shot the Gikhi, and who, he was
+certain, had committed that terrible murder near the C. D. Cut-off.
+The spirit of his savage ancestors swept upon him, and for a while
+seemed to have the complete mastery. His eyes glowed, and his body
+trembled with intense excitement. He looked around for some weapon
+of destruction, and seeing a small axe lying on the floor, he sprang
+toward it, clutched it fiercely with both hands, and turned again
+toward the bunk. He had the axe raised, and in another instant it
+would have fallen, when with a great cry, he suddenly desisted, and
+flung the weapon with his full strength against the opposite side of
+the room. He then turned, rushed from the building, and stood outside,
+trembling in every limb. His brain was in a tumult, but he was slowly
+regaining his senses. The horror of the terrible deed he had almost
+committed possessed his soul. It was not a dread of the Law which
+affected him; in fact, he never thought of that. It was a greater Law
+which said “Thou shalt do no murder.” There came to him the teaching
+of the missionary, and the words of the Master which he had so often
+read in the little manual, “Love your enemies, bless them that curse
+you, do good to them that hate you.” That was the Law he had almost
+broken in deed, and that he had broken it in spirit was a great grief
+to the old man. He was only an Indian, wrinkled, bent, and gray, an
+object of scorn to many white men had they seen him standing there.
+But the action of that native was worthy of the highest honour. He had
+met temptation in its most terrible form, and had almost fallen. But
+he had resisted, and won a remarkable victory. He had crushed back the
+spirit of revenge which was still strong upon him, and had submitted
+himself to the spirit of the Great Master. But still his grief was
+great. In his agony he dropped upon his knees in the snow, and lifted
+his hands above his head in an attitude of supplication. No sound did
+he utter, but his moving lips were more eloquent than many words. For a
+few minutes he remained in this position, silent and alone. The trees
+around him were the only witnesses to the humble worshipper mutely
+asking forgiveness from the Great Spirit of the universe. And to him it
+seemed that his request was granted, for a peace stole into his heart,
+and a weight was suddenly lifted from his mind.
+
+At length he rose to his feet, and looked around. His eyes, which a
+short time ago had glowed with vengeance, now shone with the light of
+joy. His weariness was forgotten, and even his hunger as he re-entered
+the building to minister to the needs of the man lying upon the bunk.
+As he approached, Bill lifted his head and raised his right hand.
+
+“What are you doing here, you devil?” he demanded. “Why don’t you kill
+me an’ git through with it?”
+
+“Tom no keel Bill,” was the quiet reply. “Tom no all sam’ wolf now. Tom
+Clistin.”
+
+A bitter, sneering laugh came from the man in the bunk.
+
+“You say you’re a Christian, eh?” he queried. “Well, ye acted jist like
+one when ye started to brain me. Why didn’t ye finish the job?”
+
+“Gikhi an’ good book tell no keel. Tom velly mad, heart bad when he see
+Bill. Something here,” and he placed his hand to his breast, “tell Tom
+to keel white man. Tom almos’ do it. Den somet’ing here say ‘no keel.’
+Tom feel bad. Tom kneel in snow, pray, all sam’ Gikhi.”
+
+Instead of admiring the native’s candid confession of strength, and the
+influence of Christian teaching, Bill uttered a savage oath, told the
+Indian that religion was all bosh, and that the missionary at The Gap
+was a fraud and a hypocrite.
+
+“The missionary is deceiving you,” he said. “There is no heaven an’ no
+hell. Religion is only fer kids, women, an’ old fools like you. It is
+not meant fer big strong men.”
+
+“Gikhi good man,” Tom defended. “Gikhi come to Gap when Injuns all bad,
+fight, keel. Gikhi show Injuns right trail. Gikhi tell Injuns ’bout
+Great Spirit.”
+
+“Yes, an’ what has all his teaching amounted to? Have not the Injuns
+left him? They no longer listen to his teaching, but drink, gamble, an’
+strut around the streets when they go to town. The women an’ girls go
+with white men, live with them, an’ have babies. Why, I know of dozens
+of kids who will never know who their fathers are, an’ their mothers
+don’t know, either. Bah! what good has religion done?”
+
+“’Ligion no do dat,” Tom again stoutly maintained, while his eyes
+gleamed with indignation. “Bad white man mak’ Injun all sam’ crazee.
+White man tote hootch, mak’ Injun drunk. Gikhi no do dat.”
+
+Tom paused, stepped closer to the bunk, and looked keenly into Bill’s
+face.
+
+“Bill say ’ligion no good, eh?” he asked.
+
+“That’s what I said,” was the reply. A groan of pain suddenly burst
+from his lips, followed by blood-curdling oaths.
+
+“Stop dat,” Tom sternly ordered.
+
+The injured man looked up in surprise, and was somewhat awed by the
+Indian’s manner.
+
+“Why should I stop?” he asked. “I can swear an’ curse if I want to.
+Religion means nothing to me. I’m not afraid of hell.”
+
+“Bill no ’fraid of hell, eh? Bill no like pain. Bill cry all sam’
+babee. Bill cry more bimeby, mebbe.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“Tom leave Bill, mebbe. Tom go ’way. Bill no want Tom. Bill die, eh?”
+
+It was not difficult for the white man to understand the meaning of
+these words. He believed that the Indian meant what he said, and the
+thought of being left there alone was terrible. He recalled the past
+night of suffering and despair when he had writhed in agony of body
+and mind. The swelling in his foot was most menacing, and was steadily
+creeping upwards until his whole leg from foot to hip was badly
+inflamed. He felt that there was nothing that could relieve him, but he
+did not want to be alone. It was some consolation to have some one with
+him, even though it was only an Indian.
+
+“Don’t leave me,” he cried, reaching out his right hand as if to grasp
+and hold the native. “Fer God’s sake, stay here an’ don’t let me die
+alone!”
+
+Tom’s eyes brightened as he turned them intently upon the pleading man
+before him. This was more than he had expected.
+
+“Tom no leave Bill,” he replied. “Tom Clistin. Wan tam Tom no Clistin,
+leave Bill to die, keel heem, mebbe. Now, Tom all sam’ Gikhi, good to
+Bill.”
+
+“Oh, shut up about yer religion,” the suffering man snapped. “I’m sick
+of it. Git me something to eat. That’ll do me more good than all your
+yangin’ about religion. Ye’ve gone daft over it.”
+
+“Ah, ah, Tom geeve Bill grub,” was the quiet reply. “But Tom ask Bill
+wan t’ing, eh?”
+
+“Well, what is it? Out with it. I’m hungry.”
+
+“Bill no say bad word. Bill no talk ’bout ’ligion. Bill keep still.”
+
+This was more than Bill was inclined to do, so he gave expression to
+his feeling in a string of oaths. Tom listened for only a few seconds,
+when he suddenly turned, left the side of the bunk, and started for
+the door. Seeing that he was about to leave, the injured man realised
+his mistake, and yelled for him to come back. Tom hesitated before
+complying with this request. He then slowly retraced his steps and once
+again stood looking down upon the white man.
+
+“Bill call, eh?” he simply asked.
+
+“Yes, I did. Don’t go an’ I’ll hold my tongue, an’ say nuthin’ more
+about religion. Hurry up an’ git me something to eat.”
+
+“Good, good,” the Indian grunted. “Tom git grub now.”
+
+Tom at once turned his attention to the stove. There was still some
+fire in the battered sheet-iron heater, so he added a few dry sticks
+lying near. He found that Bill had done some cooking, and examining
+several cans near the stove he was pleased to learn that they contained
+cooked rice and dried fruit, while part of a loaf of sourdough bread
+was lying on a biscuit box close at hand. Tom warmed some of the rice,
+cut a few slices of bread, which he spread with a liberal covering of
+jam from a recently opened tin. These he carried to the white man, and
+placed the plate upon the bunk.
+
+“Eat,” he said, “Grub good, eh?”
+
+“It’s nuthin’ but trash,” Bill growled as he took a little of the food.
+“Lord! I wish I had a good swig of hootch. That would put new life into
+me. But there’s not a drop anywhere in this hole.”
+
+“Too much hootch in Injun camp,” Tom replied. “Bad white man mak’ Injun
+all sam’ crazee. Tom hurt, see?” and he placed his hand to his face.
+
+“Who did that?” Bill asked.
+
+“Jeree, white man. Plenty hootch. Jeree mad; hit Tom.”
+
+“Where was that?”
+
+“Injun camp, off dere,” and Tom motioned south.
+
+“Was there another white man with Jerry?”
+
+“Ah, ah, no savvey name. Beeg, bad face, all sam’ wolf.”
+
+“Where did they come from?”
+
+“Me no savvey.”
+
+This information excited Bill, and he became very impatient. Once he
+scrambled out of the bunk, but so intense was the pain in his leg that
+he groaned in agony.
+
+“I must git away from here,” he cried when Tom urged him to lie down
+again and be still. “This is too dangerous a place fer me. Git me my
+snow-shoes, an’ put me up some grub. There’s a hard trail ahead, an’ I
+must be off.”
+
+In another minute, however, he was glad to be back again in the bunk.
+He moaned, cursed, and lamented his hard luck. His eyes expressed a
+nameless fear, and often he looked anxiously toward the door.
+
+“Did you see the Police?” he at length asked. “Are they near?”
+
+“Ah, ah; P’lice at Gap.”
+
+“They are!” Bill suddenly raised himself on his right shoulder. “Are
+they coming this way? Do they know where I am? Does anybody know?”
+
+“Ah, ah, Tom savvey.”
+
+“I know ye do, ye fool. But does anybody else?”
+
+“Me no savvey. P’lice savvey much, eh?”
+
+“They do,” was the savage reply. “They are devils.”
+
+The short afternoon was rapidly wearing away as the wretched man tossed
+and writhed in his hard bunk. He became consumed with a burning thirst,
+and called continually for water. Tom was kept busy melting snow, and
+then placing the water outside to cool. Cup after cup he carried to
+the restless patient, who would seize it, drain it to the bottom, and
+demand more.
+
+When night shut down, Bill became delirious, and it was only with
+difficulty that the native could keep him in the bunk. He talked and
+shouted almost incessantly, and Tom was shocked at many of the things
+he said. If formerly he had any doubt about this man being the one
+who had committed that terrible deed at the C. D. Cut-Off, it was now
+entirely removed. The man lived it all over again, as well as other
+deeds of infamy. Time and time again he would start up and look wildly
+around, his eyes dilated with fear.
+
+“Keep back!” he would cry. “Let me go! Let me go! Don’t put me under
+the ice! Bill Haines an’ his wife are there, an’ they’ll kill me, oh,
+oh!”
+
+He talked, too, about Tim, and how he knew too much. He raved about
+Zell, the half-breed girl, and how he wanted her.
+
+“I’ll git ye,” he shouted. “Tim won’t have ye. I’ll fix him.”
+
+He then gave utterance to expressions which further revealed the
+baseness of his nature, and which Tom found hard to endure.
+
+Thus all through the long night the man tossed and raved. Tom was very
+weary, and longed to sleep. But he did not dare to close his eyes. When
+he was not forcing Bill back into the bunk, he squatted near the stove
+and smoked his old blackened pipe. Although his body was tired, his
+mind was very active. He wondered what he should do with the sick white
+man. That it was his duty to stay by his side he was certain. But how
+was he to get word to that outlying band of Indians? It was necessary
+that they should be told of the condition of the Gikhi, that they might
+have a chance to return with the other natives who had avowed their
+loyalty. But he was helpless to do anything.
+
+At times Tom went to the door, opened it and looked out. It was a cold
+night, and the Northern Lights were making a wonderful display. The
+stars, too, were exceptionally thick and bright. There was no moon, but
+with such lights in the heavens the night was not dark. All was still,
+save for the occasional snap of a frost-rent tree, or the distant howl
+of a lone wolf.
+
+Thus hour after hour Tom kept his weary watch, while the man in the
+bunk tossed, fretted, and revealed his past life of shame.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 25
+
+“Maintien le Droit”
+
+
+It was evening, and Sergeant North and Constable Rolfe were travelling
+fast. They had been on the way since early morning, and were anxious to
+reach the next band of Indians, where they were planning to stay all
+night. They were not following the regular police trail, but visiting
+the various Indian camps instead, hoping in this manner to obtain some
+word about Bill, the Slugger, and perhaps overtake him. They believed
+that he could not travel far, judging from what they had heard about
+the injury he had received. So far they had learned nothing, but
+that did not discourage them. They had often followed after men and
+overtaken them with far less to work upon. This undertaking appeared
+easy in comparison with some they had experienced in the past.
+
+Sergeant North was anxious to get through with the job as soon as
+possible that he might hurry back to Marion. It was hard for him to
+leave her at The Gap with the unconscious missionary. He wanted to
+remain with her. But his duty was out in the hills, so nothing must
+interfere with his loyalty to the Force. He had a reasonable excuse for
+delaying a day or two, at the least. Some men who had come through such
+hardships would have rested before venturing forth again. As he swung
+on his way, up hill and down, with the constable close at his heels,
+Marion was almost constantly in his mind. He thought of her standing
+at the door of the mission house bidding them good-by. How beautiful
+she looked then, although her eyes were misty, and her voice trembled
+as she tried to be brave and smile a cheery farewell. He had stooped
+and kissed her right before the constable, and he did not know that the
+latter’s heart was strangely stirred. He, too, longed for someone to
+care for him as Marion did for the sergeant. He envied North his good
+fortune, but it was envy robbed of all sting and malice. But away from
+The Gap his buoyant spirit once more gained the mastery, and he was
+apparently as light-hearted as ever. He joked, sang snatches of songs,
+and quoted poetry to his heart’s content. North, if he heard, paid no
+attention to his companion, so completely wrapped up was he in his own
+affairs.
+
+The first night they encamped with the band of Indians who had given
+Tom such a warm welcome. These natives had heard nothing about the
+presence of any white man in the hills. They were enthusiastic over the
+idea of returning to The Gap, and asked the police numerous questions
+about the Gikhi. The visitors listened with much interest to the Indian
+service that night, which was conducted by the oldest native present.
+The constable’s face showed his approval, and his eyes sparkled with
+animation. The sergeant, on the other hand, expressed no outward sign.
+But he was doing considerable thinking, and his heart was stirred more
+than usual. He made no comment then, but the next day while resting
+and eating a cold lunch, he turned suddenly to his companion, who was
+seated on a fallen log by his side.
+
+“Say, Tom,” he began, “I’ve been thinking much to-day about that Indian
+service last night.”
+
+“Is that so? Going to put a stop to it, eh? You shouldn’t allow such
+superstitious practices to be carried on. They might do harm to the
+natives, you know.”
+
+“No, I’m going to do nothing of the kind, Tom. And besides, I have not
+the power. And I don’t want to stop them. I have been greatly impressed
+of late by what I have seen, and am beginning to look at certain things
+in a different light.”
+
+“Experiencing a change of heart?” the constable asked, looking
+quizzically at the sergeant. “Isn’t it coming to you rather late?”
+
+“Not too late, I hope,” was the quiet reply. “I am afraid that my
+judgment of things pertaining to religion has been too much biased, and
+a one-sided affair. I have been going upon the idea that religion is
+all right in theory, but of little use in daily life. I see now that I
+was wrong.”
+
+“What has led you to change your mind?”
+
+“Oh, several things. The first, and perhaps the most important, was
+the thought of that old missionary giving up his life on behalf of the
+Indians, and standing bravely at his post of duty when deserted by
+nearly all of his flock. Why, Tom, that man is a great hero, and yet
+the world knows nothing about him. I could hardly keep back the tears
+at something I saw upon his rough table. Marion saw it, too, and she
+was deeply affected.”
+
+“What was it, sergeant? It must have been something out of the ordinary
+to move such a hardened being as you.”
+
+“It was the last bit of writing, I believe, that he did. His Bible was
+lying open on the table, with a sheet of paper right near, on which
+were some words in the Indian language. I did not know what they were,
+but Zell could read them, and what do you suppose they were?”
+
+“I could never guess.”
+
+“They were words of the Great Master Himself, and they have fairly
+burned themselves into my mind and soul. I had often heard them before,
+but thought little about them. But to see them there in that strange
+language, written with a trembling hand, and with an old rusted pen,
+stirred something within me which I can never forget.”
+
+“What were they?” the constable asked, now deeply impressed by the
+sergeant’s earnest tone.
+
+“Wonderful words about love which the Master was imparting to his
+disciples. ‘This is my commandment that ye love one another, as I have
+loved you. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his
+life for his friends.’ Now, what do you think of that? The last words
+penned by that old saint for his wandering flock. And he lived them,
+too; that is what affected me so deeply. His love was so great that he
+actually laid down his life for the Indians.”
+
+The sergeant paused and looked off among the trees. The constable
+watched him somewhat curiously, completely surprised at the change
+which had come over his leader. He admired him, too, and longed to
+tell him so. But before he could frame suitable words, the sergeant
+continued:
+
+“And think of the influence that missionary exerted over the natives.
+They were wild savages when he first came among them, so I have been
+told. He changed their entire manner of living, and until base white
+men began to demoralize them they lived at peace and we had not the
+slightest trouble with them. It was a sad day when those wretched
+hootch peddlers began their diabolical work. I believe the natives want
+to follow the teaching of their missionary, and are anxious to return
+to The Gap. They are naturally religious by nature. Did you notice last
+night how reverent and attentive they were during that simple service?”
+
+“Indeed I did,” the constable emphatically declared. “I was thinking of
+what Longfellow said in his ‘Hiawatha’ about Indians. Did you ever hear
+it?”
+
+“Not that I know of. More poetry, I suppose.”
+
+“Yes, but great poetry, and it expresses fully what was in my mind.
+Longfellow says:
+
+  “‘That in even savage bosoms
+    There are longings, yearnings, strivings,
+    For the good they comprehend not,
+    That the feeble hands and helpless,
+    Groping blindly in the darkness,
+    Touch God’s right hand in that darkness,
+    And are lifted up and strengthened.’
+
+“Now, isn’t that beautiful? I could quote you a great deal more from
+‘Hiawatha,’ though I advise you to read it yourself when you get a
+chance. I can’t understand why you have not read it already.”
+
+“For want of the proper poetic gift, I suppose, and because the
+whole of my life has been lived in the open. But I like those words,
+especially about feeble hands touching God’s hand in the darkness. I
+guess that applies to me as well as to the Indians. But, there, we have
+delayed here too long, so must get on our way.”
+
+This conversation took place at midday, and all through the afternoon
+the two men sped rapidly forward. They had little to impede their
+march, for they carried only light packs, and their revolvers. They
+could turn aside whenever they wished and obtain extra food from the
+patrol-house.
+
+When about a mile from the Indian encampment they were surprised at the
+sight of a man just ahead, staggering along, and moaning as if in pain.
+Coming closer they saw that he was a white man, known to them as Jerry,
+a squaw-man, who lived in a small shack along the river. He stopped,
+straightened somewhat up and exhibited much fear at the sight of the
+policemen.
+
+“What’s the matter with you?” the sergeant asked.
+
+“The devils are after me!” was the gasping answer. “They’ll kill me!
+For God’s sake, keep them back till I git out of this!”
+
+“Who are after you?”
+
+“The Injuns. They’ve gone crazy. Been wild all day. Me pardner is
+killed, I guess.”
+
+“Who’s that?”
+
+“Bob Span,” the man replied, turning his head and looking fearfully
+back. “They set upon us like wolves, an’ I jist managed to git away.”
+
+“What are you doing here, anyway?” the sergeant sternly asked.
+
+“Trappin’, of course. Happened to stay last night with them Injuns, an’
+was jist leavin’ when they set upon us. Don’t let ’em git me.”
+
+The sergeant shot a swift glance toward the constable, and then laid a
+strong hand upon the frightened man.
+
+“You’ve been selling hootch to the Indians,” he charged.
+
+“No, no!” the man denied. “I was jist trappin’. Let me go.”
+
+“Quit your lying,” the sergeant ordered. “Do you think I’m fool enough
+to believe what you say? You will go with us, and I warn you not to
+make any trouble.”
+
+“Where are ye goin’ to take me?” the man asked.
+
+“Back from where you came, of course.”
+
+“No, no; not there! The Injuns will kill me like they did me pardner.”
+
+“Oh, we’ll attend to that. Come, we haven’t any time to lose.”
+
+Seeing that the sergeant meant business and that further words would
+be useless, Jerry did as he was ordered. He was well worn out through
+fear and lack of sleep, so he tottered as he groped his way along. At
+last the policemen were forced to help him, each taking an arm, and
+thus they moved slowly along. At times Jerry wailed and sobbed. He
+vowed that the Indians would kill him as soon as they saw him. Once he
+dropped upon the snow and refused to go a step farther. It was only
+when North threatened to leave him there, and let the Indians come and
+deal with him, that he could be induced to go on. He was well aware
+that his only hope now lay with these hardy guardians he had so often
+eluded.
+
+It was dark by the time the Indian encampment was reached, and there
+all was excitement and wild talking. Men, women, and children sprang to
+their feet as the policemen approached, dragging along their terrified
+prisoner. The natives advanced threateningly toward Jerry, but a
+stern warning from North caused them to hesitate and draw back. They
+recognised the sergeant and the constable as men who would stand no
+nonsense. They knew of them not only by report but through personal
+experience in the towns and on the trails. They had always held them
+in high regard and special awe, knowing that they and all the men of
+the Force would carry out their duties to the letter. Now, however, it
+was different. The natives were mad and half-crazed with bad hootch,
+and they were ready to cast discretion to the winds. What could two
+lone men do against an overwhelming number? This was the thought that
+ran through the minds of several daring young natives. They had easily
+disposed of the two hootch peddlers, and this made them venturesome and
+impudent. They wished to show the rest of the Indians that they were
+not afraid of the policemen.
+
+Acting upon the impulse of the moment, one of their number uttered a
+few words in the native tongue, sprang forward, and laid hold upon
+the cringing Jerry. He was followed by several of his companions, and
+Jerry was being lifted off his feet when the sergeant took a hand.
+Whipping out his revolver, he sternly ordered the Indians to drop their
+burden. As they paid no heed, the next instant the revolver spoke, and
+the right arm of the leader dropped to his side. With a yell of pain
+and rage the man staggered back, leaving his companions to complete
+the task. But they had no relish now for the undertaking, for the
+sergeant was standing silently there with his finger slightly pressing
+the trigger, and by his side was the constable, with drawn revolver,
+ready to follow his leader’s example. Quickly the natives deposited the
+terrified Jerry upon the ground and leaped back among the rest of the
+Indians who were standing defiantly near.
+
+Seeing that for a time the rebels were quelled, the sergeant thrust
+back his revolver into its holster, stepped forward, and drew back
+Jerry to his side. His eyes then roamed deliberately over the silent
+band before him. He was well aware that he had to use extreme caution
+now, as the least mistake on his part might prove fatal. But his
+experience with the Indians covered a number of years, so he was no
+novice in dealing with them. Had he hesitated at the outset, and shown
+the least sign of fear, the entire band would have been upon him and
+the constable like howling wolves.
+
+“Let us be friends,” he at length began. “We come here to help you and
+not to fight. These men who carry hootch harm you. We want to do you
+good, and save you from them. You could easily kill me and my companion
+here. But it would be very bad for you. Other men would take our place,
+and, if necessary, they would be followed by others as many as the
+trees of the forest. You could not fight them. But we do not want to
+fight. Let us talk this matter over, and be at peace with one another.”
+
+Having finished, the sergeant moved forward, and sat down calmly near
+the fire. The constable followed his example, and there the two waited
+to see what would happen next. Although the Indians did not understand
+all the words that were said, they grasped their meaning, and at once
+began to talk to one another in the most animated manner. At length
+they drew back, ranged themselves in a circle around the fire, some
+standing, while others squatted upon the snow.
+
+At last the leader arose and asked the sergeant why there were two
+laws in the country, one for the Indians and another for the white
+people. Why were not the Indians allowed the same liberty as their
+white brothers? The land belonged to the Indians, as it had been handed
+down to them from their fathers. Why could they not drink hootch if
+they wanted to do so? They did not think that the white man’s laws were
+fair. The strangers had come into their country, were killing their
+game, and driving the natives farther and farther back into the hills.
+Soon there would be no place left for them.
+
+The sergeant was well aware of these old complaints, so he was not
+surprised to hear them again. He was wise enough not to attempt to
+answer them directly, as it would only involve him in a lengthy
+argument, for which he was not at all inclined. He merely told the
+Indians that what their leader said was only too true. But the Police
+were in the country to protect them from bad white men, and to save
+their young men and women. If they obeyed the laws it would be for
+their good, and no harm would come to them. He then drew a picture of
+their happy condition at The Gap when the missionary was their teacher,
+guide, and friend.
+
+“Were you not happier then?” he asked. “Were you not all like one big
+family? But what has happened? Your teacher has been shot by a bad
+white man, and he may be dead now. He gave up his life for the Indians,
+and his every thought was for you. He was always praying that you might
+come back to him again. Let us now forget all strife and think only of
+him who is lying wounded in his house at The Gap. Suppose we have a
+little service here, and pray to the Lord to spare the missionary. That
+will do more good than quarrelling.”
+
+This suggestion was carefully considered by the natives. Although he
+did not know what was being said, yet the sergeant could tell that
+several of the young men opposed the idea. But the will of the majority
+prevailed, and it was not long ere many of the natives were holding in
+their hands copies of the little manual which they had unearthed from
+most unlikely places.
+
+“The white man’s words are good,” the leader said, turning toward the
+sergeant. “The Indians will pray for the Gikhi. Mebbe the Lord will not
+let the Gikhi die.”
+
+Then at a word the natives all dropped upon their knees while the
+leader began to pray in the native tongue. At times all joined in, and
+from their earnest tones it was quite evident that they meant what they
+said.
+
+Rising at length from their knees, they began to sing an old familiar
+hymn. This ended, they sang another, and still another. Their
+enthusiasm was now intense. It had been months since they had held such
+a service, and their hearts were all deeply stirred. When at last they
+paused to rest, some were anxious to start right away that very night
+for The Gap, but others advised waiting until morning before beginning
+the journey.
+
+While they were discussing this, the other hootch peddler sneaked into
+their midst and stood before the fire. He was shivering with cold and
+his face was scarred and bleeding. The Indians made no attempt to
+molest the miserable creature, but left him to the sergeant.
+
+“Where have you been?” the latter asked.
+
+“Out in the woods, freezin’,” was the gasping reply. “I would have died
+if you hadn’t come along. Say, these Indians are devils.”
+
+“Who made them devils?” the sergeant sternly asked. “You did,” he
+continued, receiving no reply. “You and your partner brought in your
+hootch-poison, and it’s a wonder they didn’t kill you.”
+
+“They tried to. Oh, Lord! I thought it was all up with me.”
+
+“It’s too bad it wasn’t for the sake of others. But the Indians won’t
+harm you now, and you have that noble missionary at The Gap to thank
+for it.”
+
+“Why, where does he come in on this?” the man asked in surprise. “I
+thought it was yer guns, an’ the hell-fear the Police have put into the
+hearts of the Injuns.”
+
+“Oh, that had something to do with it, I suppose. But unless these
+Indians had been taught the difference between right and wrong, what
+could two of us have done with this bunch? No, it was mainly due to the
+teaching they received, and don’t you forget that. We’ve been on your
+trail for some time, and would have caught you sooner or later. We’ve
+got you now, and intend to hold on to you.”
+
+With peace thus restored, the sergeant and the constable were able to
+rest. The Indians supplied them liberally with food, and gave them a
+comfortable place to sleep. They were tired out after their strenuous
+exertions, but thankful for what had happened. As the sergeant lay upon
+the robes spread over a wealth of fir boughs, he thought of Marion and
+wondered how she was making out. He went to sleep with her in his mind
+and heart, and did not hear the constable repeating one of his favorite
+verses:
+
+  “‘God bless the man who first invented sleep,
+    So Sancho Panza said and so say I.
+    And bless him, also, that he didn’t keep
+    His great discovery to himself, nor try
+    To make it, as the lucky fellow might--
+    A close monopoly by patent right.’”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 26
+
+The Night Struggle
+
+
+The Golden Horn was agleam with the rising sun as the two policemen
+left the Indian encampment the next morning and headed for the
+patrol-house. They were late in starting, owing to the arrangements
+they had to make in connection with the two hootch peddlers. At first
+it seemed as if the constable would have to conduct them to The Gap,
+leaving the sergeant to obtain a native to go with him. The matter was
+at length settled by several Indians agreeing to take the prisoners
+all the way to Kynox. The sergeant told them that they would be well
+rewarded if they delivered the two men to the police stationed at that
+post.
+
+So once more the upholders of the law and the guardians of life sped
+along through the wilderness. For a while there was nothing to guide
+them. Then they came upon Tom’s trail, and this they followed. They had
+heard about the old Indian’s visit to the encampment, and the harsh
+reception which had been meted out to him. They surmised that he had
+made his way to the patrol-house for shelter and food.
+
+“Say, sergeant,” Rolfe remarked, as they paused to rest on the summit
+of a hill they had just climbed, “I wonder if the Wandering Jew had any
+children.”
+
+“I never heard that he did,” was the reply. “Why do you ask?”
+
+“Because I have come to the conclusion that he did, and that we are
+two of his descendants. We are ever wandering from place to place, and
+have been doing so for years. It seems to be our fate. I am getting
+more than tired of this life.”
+
+“Longing for a change, eh?”
+
+“It wouldn’t come amiss, let me tell you that.”
+
+“But we’re getting plenty of change, Tom. Ever since we left Kynox
+haven’t we had no end of excitement, ending up with that racket last
+night?”
+
+“Do you call that the end? It looks to me like only the beginning. But,
+then, let us keep up courage; the worst is yet to come. Say, sergeant,
+I’ve been thinking.”
+
+“I’m glad to hear it, Tom. Rather unusual, isn’t it?”
+
+“Perhaps so, but I really have. I’ve been thinking about all the people
+who sing the national anthem in cities and towns.”
+
+“Does your brain hurt from such deep thinking?”
+
+“I wonder if they realize what our motto, ‘Maintien le Droit,’ really
+means? Look at us, for instance, upholding the right, and enforcing the
+King’s laws, while all they do is sing, cheer, and wave the flag. When
+I get out of the Force, I’m going to write something that will open
+their eyes.”
+
+“Poetry, I suppose. Will people read it?”
+
+“They will have to. I shall write such blazing stuff that everyone will
+want to read it. It will not be the trash that is so often seen in
+print.”
+
+“I wish you good luck, old man,” North replied, as he lifted his small
+pack and slung it once again over his shoulders. “But I wouldn’t be too
+hopeful. People, as a rule, don’t take kindly to poetry.”
+
+“But they will take to mine. I shall write such stuff that they won’t
+be able to help themselves. Now, some poets have written about
+this country who have never been on its trails. I shall write from
+experience, and surely people will see the difference.”
+
+“Let us hope so, Tom,” the sergeant replied. “But come, let us get on
+our way. We have lost too much time already. If you can find any poetry
+in all this, you are heartily welcome to it.”
+
+Hour after hour they moved onward, and the sun had disappeared behind
+the far-off mountain peaks as they came at last to the patrol-house.
+Smoke was pouring forth from the pipe stuck up through the roof.
+This did not surprise them, for they surmised that Tom, the Indian,
+was making himself at home within. Kicking off their snow-shoes, the
+sergeant thrust open the door and led the way into the building. He
+stopped suddenly, however, at a strange and uncanny sound which came
+from the opposite corner of the room. He could not see clearly, owing
+to the dimness of the place, but words he heard quickened the blood in
+his veins, and caused him to grip hard the constable’s arm.
+
+“Keep back! Keep back!” wailed the terrified voice. “What are ye doin’
+here, Bill Haines? How did ye git out of the river? I put you an’ yer
+wife under the ice, an’ how did ye git out? Oh! oh! oh! keep yer wet
+hands off my throat. Yer chokin’ me! Fer God’s sake, let me go!”
+
+As the wretched, haunted creature paused an instant for breath, the
+sergeant stepped quickly forward. Indian Tom was standing by the bunk,
+and he turned around as the sergeant approached. He expressed no
+surprise at the arrival of the policeman, although it was evident he
+was greatly relieved.
+
+“Bill velly seek,” he simply said. “Bill talk all sam’ crazee. Bill
+tell much.”
+
+“He certainly does,” the sergeant replied, as he again listened to the
+wild words of the man before him, pleading again with Bill Haines to
+keep back and not to choke him. He was certain now that the murderer he
+was seeking had been found, and that the search was ended.
+
+“How long has Bill been talking like this?” he asked.
+
+“Long tam, all day, mebbe. Bill velly seek. Bill die bimeby, eh?”
+
+“Most likely,” was the reply. “Anyway, he’s worse than dead now. Isn’t
+it terrible to listen to him?” and he turned to the constable.
+
+“Say, sergeant, he’s getting his hell now,” Rolfe replied. “It’s the
+mind that makes the torment. It was Satan in ‘Paradise Lost’ which
+said, ‘The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a hell of
+heaven.’ And who can doubt it after listening to the ravings of such a
+creature as that? Why, he’s living over again all the devilish things
+he has ever done. There he goes again about the murder of Bill Haines
+and his wife. Did you hear him speak about a ring? Look, he’s groping
+for something. What do you suppose it can be?”
+
+“Perhaps he’s stolen one,” the sergeant suggested. “But, stay; do you
+suppose a ring was the cause of that murder? If so, he may have it
+somewhere about him. Give me a light, and let me examine him.”
+
+In another minute a candle was lighted which enabled them to see
+much better. The pockets of the raving man were searched, and from
+one the sergeant at length brought forth the ring, and held it up
+for inspection. The diamond gleamed beneath the rays of light and
+fascinated the eyes of the beholders.
+
+“Isn’t it a beauty!” the constable exclaimed. “What in the world was
+Bill doing with a thing like that? It may be, as you suggest, the cause
+of the murder. Did, you ever hear of the Haines having such a valuable
+thing?”
+
+“I never did. They always seemed too poor to possess anything like
+that. But, then, one can never tell. Bill Haines and his wife were very
+reserved people, and although friendly and hospitable to all, they kept
+their own affairs to themselves. Mrs. Haines was a refined woman, and
+it often struck me as strange that she should be willing to live year
+after year in such a lonely place along the river. However, we shall
+keep this ring; it may be the means of unravelling some mystery. The
+question now for us is what to do with this crazy creature. But first
+of all, get something to eat, as I am almost starved.”
+
+While the constable was preparing supper, North sat by the side of
+the bunk, watching the unhappy man lying there, and listening to his
+incessant ravings. It was a sordid tale, unconsciously unfolded, and
+the sergeant was enabled to piece together much of his unenviable
+record. Tom, the Indian, squatted on the floor nearby, silent and
+alert. At times the sergeant glanced toward him and wondered what was
+passing through his mind. When the humble meal had been eaten, the
+Indian filled, lighted his old blackened pipe, and smoked for a while
+in silence. At last he rose to his feet and stood before the sergeant.
+
+“Me go now,” he simply announced. “P’lice stay, eh?”
+
+“Go where?” North asked in surprise. “Surely you are not going away
+to-night!”
+
+“Ah, ah. Tom go find Injun. Fetch Injun back to Gap. Savvey?”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“Gikhi velly seek; die mebbe. Tom fetch Injun.”
+
+“But why not wait until morning? Sleep first.”
+
+“Tom sleep bimeby. Ketch Injun first.”
+
+“How far away are the Indians?” the sergeant asked.
+
+“At Big Lake.”
+
+“That’s about ten miles, isn’t it?”
+
+“Ah, ah, ten mile, mebbe.”
+
+For a few minutes the sergeant remained in thought. He then turned to
+the constable, who was cleaning up after supper.
+
+“Say, Tom,” he began, “we’ve got to get this crazy man back to The Gap,
+and from there to Kynox. We can’t do it without a team of dogs. Those
+Indians at Big Lake must supply us with an outfit. One of us should go
+with this Indian and pick up a good team. Would you rather go or stay
+here with Bill?”
+
+“Go with the Indian, of course,” was the emphatic reply. “I’d soon be
+crazy, too, if I had to stay here alone with that raving villain.”
+
+“But you might obtain great material for poetry,” the sergeant
+bantered. “What brilliant ideas might come to you sitting here and
+listening to Bill.”
+
+“I’d rather be excused this time, sergeant. Dante wrote wonderful
+things about his imaginary visit to Hell, but I don’t think that I
+could. This is too real to inspire the poetic muse. No, I prefer the
+trail every time.”
+
+“Even though you have to start right off now?”
+
+“I would rather wait until morning, there is no doubt about that. But
+if Old Tom is determined to go now, I suppose it can’t be helped. And
+besides, perhaps he is right. There is no time to lose. We must get
+that creature out of this as soon as possible. And you want to get
+back to The Gap as soon as you can, don’t you?”
+
+The sergeant made no reply. He was more than anxious to be with Marion
+once more. He had worried a great deal about her, and wondered how she
+was making out with the missionary. She was very much in his mind as he
+sat near the bunk after the Indian and the constable had left. He had
+plenty of time to think, as there was nothing else he could do. Marion
+always brought before him a vision of purity and nobleness. He pictured
+a time when his wanderings on the cruel trails would be ended, and he
+would have a snug little home of his own, with Marion as the beautiful
+presiding genius. What happiness that would be. No more wanderings to
+and fro, with no certain abiding place.
+
+It was but natural that he should also think of the self-sacrificing
+life of Charles Norris, the missionary at The Gap, and the sad fate
+which had fallen upon him. He mused upon his noble life, and the
+peaceful expression upon his face as he had last seen him lying so
+still in the mission house. He compared him with the wretched being
+before him, and the contrast was most startling. One had lived for
+loving service; the other for self. The aim of one had been to build
+up, and improve; that of the other to tear down, and to destroy. In the
+end both had been terribly stricken down. That the good should suffer
+as well as the bad the sergeant knew was one of the great problems
+of life. And yet not for an instant could he imagine the missionary
+at The Gap undergoing such tortures of the condemned as he beheld in
+Bill, the Slugger. In the latter he saw the brute nature, revealed
+and uncontrolled, pouring forth the vile pollutions of the mind. He
+realised now, as he had never done before, the gracious and refining
+influence of the life and teaching of the Great Master. He had scoffed
+at such things in the past, but face to face with such stern realities,
+he knew that he could never do so again.
+
+Thus hour after hour he kept watch, tended the fire, and listened to
+the sounds of the man in the bunk, which were now nothing more than
+senseless jabberings. Occasionally he went to the door and looked out.
+The night was cold, and he thought of the constable and the Indian
+speeding through the forest. He was thankful to have a warm abode, even
+though his sole companion was a demented man.
+
+Once more he took up his position near the bunk, filled and lighted
+his pipe, and leaned back against the wall. When he had finished his
+smoke, he laid aside his pipe and looked at Bill. He was quiet now, and
+to all appearance asleep. North was glad of this, for he was becoming
+very drowsy. The room was warm and as he once more resumed his seat, he
+leaned his head against one of the bunk posts which was fastened to the
+wall. He was tired, and although he intended to keep awake, yet in a
+few minutes he was asleep.
+
+He awoke with a start, overwhelmed with a feeling of dread. And none
+too soon, for before him was the lunatic creeping toward him with a
+stick of firewood raised ready to strike.
+
+North sprang to his feet as the madman leaped forward and with a wild
+cry struck. Warding the blow with his right hand, the sergeant grappled
+with the raging demon. Then ensued a struggle such as North had never
+before experienced. The lunatic seemed to be possessed of superhuman
+strength, and several times he was on the point of gaining the mastery.
+To and fro the contestants swayed and reeled. The madman’s arms were
+like coils of steel as he wound them about his adversary’s body. His
+eyes glowed like red-hot coals. His teeth ground together in his
+insensate rage, and blood-curdling yells poured from his frothing lips.
+North had at times heard of the terrible strength of crazy men and
+their marvellous endurance. But he knew it now only too well. Possessed
+of great strength himself, and with finely developed muscles, he was
+weak compared with his raging brute antagonist. He felt his strength
+weakening in the terrible grip, and a sickening feeling of helplessness
+swept upon him. The thought of being overpowered by such a demon was
+maddening. He could not subdue him by mere physical force, that was
+quite evident, so in extremity desperate means must be used. At the
+first opportunity he drew back his right arm and struck his opponent
+a smashing blow on the left jaw. The effect was instantaneous. The
+encircling arms relaxed, the gripping fingers loosened their strangling
+hold, the tense body sagged, and then dropped in a heap upon the floor.
+
+North staggered back weak and faint after the fray, and leaned for a
+few seconds against the wall. He was well aware, however, that the
+madman might speedily recover and rush again to the attack. Such a
+thing must be prevented. He looked around for a rope or strap, but
+seeing nothing, he seized one of the grey blankets upon the bunk and
+quickly tore off a long narrow strip. Turning over the prostrate man,
+he securely fastened his hands behind his back. With another strip he
+also tied his feet together. This done, he threw over him a couple of
+blankets, and left him upon the floor.
+
+“Lie there, you brute,” he said. “It’s too good a place for you. I’m
+not going to bother with you any more. You don’t deserve the least
+consideration. You brought all this trouble upon yourself. I wish that
+some of your choice companions could see you now. It might be a lesson
+to them.”
+
+Slowly the long night wore away. North was very tired, but he did not
+dare to sleep. He kept the fire going and waited impatiently for the
+coming of dawn. The madman at length recovered, struggled to free
+himself, and yelled and raved. North left him alone, knowing that he
+could do nothing for him. His one desire now was to get him back to The
+Gap as soon as possible, and from there to Kynox. His responsibility
+then would be ended.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 27
+
+An Unfolded Record
+
+
+Marion Brisbane was kept very busy for some time after the sergeant and
+the constable had left. The mission house was in sad need of attention.
+With the aid of the Indian woman she set to work upon the main room,
+swept, dusted, and scrubbed the floor. This took all day, and at night
+she was very tired. But the place looked the better for the cleaning,
+and she viewed it with considerable satisfaction.
+
+“That is the first thorough cleaning it has had for some time, it seems
+to me,” she declared.
+
+“It used to be clean,” Zell replied. “When Mrs. Norris was living she
+was very particular. I often helped her, and so did the other girls. We
+always liked to do it for her, as she was so good and kind.”
+
+“She must have been a noble woman, Zell. I suppose you miss her.”
+
+The girl rose from her seat and moved slowly across the room. She was
+still weak, and walked with difficulty. She stopped before a little
+table, above which were several shelves, filled with books, papers,
+letters, and writing material.
+
+“This is where she so often sat and wrote,” she said. “I can see her
+now sitting here while we were at our lessons. She would read and
+write, and every morning she would kneel here while the Gikhi had
+prayers. I am afraid that we didn’t pay much attention to what was
+being said. We were all too silly, thinking about other things. I guess
+you understand, Miss, what girls of our age generally think about.”
+
+“Did the missionary and his wife know anything about your thoughts?”
+Marion asked.
+
+“Oh, no. They never dreamed of such things. They lived too near heaven
+for that. Perhaps that was where they made a mistake in thinking that
+the girls were like themselves. Anyway, they were right, and we were
+wrong. I see it now, when it is too late.”
+
+Zell’s eyes were misty as she stood there, resting her left hand upon
+the table for support. Marion, too, was affected, as in her mind she
+saw a faithful woman, who had given up all the luxuries of life for a
+great cause, seated there or kneeling in prayer. What earnest petitions
+had been offered up before that rude table, and how many letters
+had been written to loved ones far away. The thought of that noble
+woman was an inspiration to her, and helped her to be brave. Stepping
+forward, she glanced at the books upon the shelves. She examined
+several, and was surprised to find them all stained as if with water.
+
+“What happened to these?” she asked. “They look as if they had been
+soaked.”
+
+“Oh, the big flood did that,” Zell explained. “It was one spring
+several years ago, when the Kluksan was jammed up in the mountains
+with ice. It broke and swept down upon The Gap in a rushing torrent.
+The Gikhi was sitting at his table writing, when an Indian rushed in
+and gave the warning. We had only time to get out of the house and
+flee to the high bank when the water was in this house, and almost
+everything was ruined. The Indians’ cabins were all swept away, while
+only the mission house and church were left standing. You see, Miss,
+God wouldn’t let the flood hurt them. That’s what the Indians said, and
+I guess they were right. But they have forgotten about it, though,” she
+added with a sigh.
+
+“Does a flood like that happen often?” Marion asked.
+
+“It was the first one in a long time. The old Indians said there was
+another many years ago, when they were little.”
+
+“They must have had a hard time building their houses again.”
+
+“Indeed they did. The women and children slept in the church, and the
+men made lean-tos. They built new cabins on higher ground, as you can
+see for yourself.”
+
+Marion did not really hear these last words, as she was holding in
+her hands another book she had taken from one of the shelves. It was
+different from the others, and much of it was written with a lead
+pencil. She began to read, and became so interested that for a time
+she forgot everything else. It was an account of the founding of the
+mission at The Gap, the coming of the missionaries to the place, their
+struggles and the opposition of the Medicine Men. Although there was no
+name, she was certain that it had been written by Mrs. Norris. What a
+treasure it was, and what a pity that it had remained hidden for such a
+length of time. She longed to read more, but she was aroused by Zell’s
+voice.
+
+“The Gikhi! The Gikhi!” she exclaimed, pointing to the bedroom. “He is
+calling!”
+
+Laying aside the book, Marion hastened across the room, pushed open the
+door, which had been kept partly closed owing to the housecleaning, and
+looked in. To her astonishment she saw the missionary sitting up in
+bed and staring straight before him. Going swiftly to his side, she
+spoke to him, and the sound of her voice attracted his attention. He
+turned his eyes toward her, and reached out his right hand. This Marion
+grasped, and the expression which overspread the old man’s face told of
+his satisfaction.
+
+“Where have you been, dear?” he asked. “I thought you were never
+coming.”
+
+“Just outside,” Marion replied, somewhat startled at the word of
+endearment. “But come, lie down again. You must not tire yourself.”
+
+“Have the Indians come back yet?” the man asked, unheeding her words.
+“It will be Christmas soon, and we must give them a good time.”
+
+“He thinks you are his wife,” Zell whispered, as she stood by the
+nurse’s side. “He doesn’t know us. What a strange look he has in his
+eyes.”
+
+As gently as possible Marion forced the missionary to lie back upon the
+pillow. But he was excited, and held her hand fast.
+
+“That word doesn’t look right, Martha,” he said. “It seems strange.”
+
+“What word?” Marion asked, hoping to detect some gleam of intelligence
+in his wandering mind.
+
+“No, no,” he continued, “that’s not the word I want. Where is it?
+Ah, I have it!” His eyes brightened, and a smile illumined his face.
+“Love--that’s it! ‘Greater love hath--’” He paused abruptly, drew his
+hand quickly from Marion’s, and pointed excitedly with his forefinger
+straight before him. “They’re coming!” he cried. “I see them; they’re
+on the trail; they’ll be here soon! Thank God, my flock is coming back,
+and Zell is with them! Don’t you see her, Martha? Little Zell, who left
+us; she is coming home again!”
+
+With a cry of grief, the half-breed girl turned and fled from the room.
+A few minutes later Marion found her curled up in a corner weeping as
+if her heart would break. The nurse laid a gentle hand upon the girl’s
+shoulder, but she threw it off and shrank back from the touch.
+
+“Oh, I am bad, bad!” she moaned. “Did you hear what he said? He was
+longing for me all the time, and I never knew it.”
+
+“There, there, dear; you can’t help it now,” Marion soothed. “You made
+a mistake, but he will forgive you when he gets well.”
+
+“But will he get well, Miss? Maybe he will die, and he will never know
+how sorry I am.”
+
+“Let us hope that he will get better,” Marion encouraged. “When the
+doctor comes he may be able to do something for him.”
+
+“Oh, I hope he will come soon, Miss. He will tell me how Tim is getting
+along. But suppose he is dead! If he is, then I shall die too. I don’t
+want to live with Tim gone.”
+
+“Don’t worry too much about that, dear,” and Marion put her arm around
+the girl as she spoke. “The doctor will do all he can, never fear, and
+our Heavenly Father will do the rest. Have you prayed for your lover,
+Zell?”
+
+“I have tried to, Miss, but I guess my prayers will do no good. I have
+been so bad that the Lord wouldn’t listen to me.”
+
+“He certainly will, Zell. He has promised to hear us when we come to
+Him. Did He not say, ‘Call upon Me in the time of trouble and I will
+hear thee’? Isn’t that His promise? Why, then, should you doubt His
+word?”
+
+“Why, Miss, you talk just like Mrs. Norris used to. She often told us
+the same thing. But she was a good woman, and her prayers were not all
+answered. Why was that?”
+
+“Are you sure they were not, Zell?”
+
+“I am certain, Miss. She prayed for the Indians that they might all be
+good. But look how they have wandered, and have nearly all left the
+mission.”
+
+“Perhaps her prayers will be answered, Zell,” Marion quietly replied.
+“She prayed that you might come back, and be a good girl. And here you
+are, changed, and sorry for what you have done.”
+
+“Did she pray for me?” the girl asked in surprise. “How do you know
+that? You never met Mrs. Norris, did you?”
+
+Marion made no immediate reply. She picked up a cup and spoon from the
+table, and going to the stove dipped out some soup from a steaming pot.
+Then going into the bedroom, she offered a little to the missionary,
+who was now lying very still.
+
+“Take this,” she said; “it will do you good.”
+
+As the man paid no heed to her words, she filled the spoon with soup
+and held it to his lips. Like a child he opened his mouth and drank it,
+the first nourishment he had taken since the shooting. In this manner
+Marion was able to feed him, and she gave him all the cup contained.
+This, she felt, was an encouraging sign, and she returned to the other
+room with greater hope for the invalid. She found Zell just where she
+had left her, with hands clasped before her, and quietly sobbing.
+
+“Come, dear,” Marion brightly began. “I want to read something to you.
+The good missionary took a little nourishment, and seems to be resting
+comfortably. We can spend a cozy evening together in this nice warm
+room.”
+
+Going over to the table, she picked up the book she had so hurriedly
+laid down, and opened it. She then sat down upon a rough bench, and
+motioned Zell to her side. The girl obeyed, and in another minute the
+two were seated side by side with the light of a nearby candle resting
+upon their fair faces.
+
+“I am going to read you something from this book,” Marion said. “It
+was written years ago by Mrs. Norris. She wrote something every day,
+and I feel that it will be perfectly right for us to read some of the
+beautiful things she recorded here. Would you like to hear them?”
+
+“Oh, indeed I should, Miss,” was the eager reply. “I have often
+wondered what she wrote in that book. She seemed so fond of it.”
+
+Marion passed over the part of the journal which told of the trials of
+the missionaries when they first reached The Gap, until she came to an
+entry which she knew would interest the girl. It was the day before
+Christmas, and this the writer noted.
+
+“‘My dear husband has just come home after an absence of nearly two
+weeks. He has been visiting the Indians, and many of them have come
+back with him for the treat, and the wonderful Christmas services we
+are planning to have. And what a present he brought with him--a little
+girl, a half-breed! She is a dear little thing, and has such sweet
+ways. She is only seven years old, yet she is exceptionally bright and
+smart for her age. She is a real Christmas gift, the best I ever had.
+How I have always longed for a child to care for, and perhaps she may
+be the first-fruit of the mission school we hope to start for the
+native children. She has such a pretty name--Zell----’”
+
+Here Marion was interrupted by a cry from the girl at her side.
+
+“Was it really me, Miss?” she asked. “Surely Mrs. Norris didn’t write
+all that about me!”
+
+“Yes, she did, dear, and there is more. Listen: ‘The Indians have been
+coming in and out of the house all the evening, and we have been so
+busy. But my mind is so full of the little child that I can hardly
+think of anything else. She is asleep now in a cozy place I have made
+for her. My heart is overflowing with gratitude. As I sit here, with
+the house at last quiet, and Charles reading his letters, which came
+while he was away, I could sing for joy. But not being able to do that
+for fear of waking the child, I think of that wonderful psalm, and can
+understand the feeling of him who wrote it: “Praise the Lord, O my
+soul, and all that is within me, praise His Holy Name.” God grant that
+this little one brought so unexpectedly to my arms may grow in grace,
+and in the knowledge and fear of the Lord.’”
+
+Thus page after page Marion read, the girl listening with almost
+breathless interest. The story of the forming of the Indian school was
+told in detail, the number of children in attendance, their names, and
+the efforts made to instruct them. Then there was the story of the
+falling away of the natives, and the great changes that took place at
+The Gap. Marion read only a portion of this, and when she saw what was
+written about Zell’s departure, she closed the book and laid it on the
+table.
+
+“There, I think I’ve read enough this evening,” she said. “You must be
+sleepy, and want to go to bed.”
+
+“No, no; read more,” Zell insisted. “Read about where I ran away from
+the school.”
+
+“How do you know there is anything about that?”
+
+“I am sure there must be. I want to know what Mrs. Norris thought about
+what I did.”
+
+“Perhaps it will make you very sad.”
+
+“I do not care, Miss. I want to hear.”
+
+Marion did as she was requested, and again opening the book, she turned
+to the last few pages. Here the dates were far apart, showing that for
+some time nothing had been recorded. Soiled with tears was the page
+where the writing once more abruptly began.
+
+“‘I have had no heart to write anything for several weeks’”--so ran
+the scribbled words, which made the reading difficult. “‘The worst has
+at last arrived, and Zell, our darling child, is gone! She left us
+for a white man. Charles can hardly believe it is true, and goes from
+cabin to cabin searching for her. But I know, and so do the girls in
+the school. I can hardly write, so full are my eyes with tears. Our
+house is very lonely now without our darling. May the good Lord keep
+her safe, and lead her back to us again. I have the feeling that if she
+does come I shall not be here. I sometimes wonder--’”
+
+“That is all,” Marion quietly remarked, as she once more laid aside the
+book. Her eyes were misty, while Zell’s were brimming with tears.
+
+“Oh, why didn’t she write more?” the girl impetuously asked. “Why did
+she stop just there? What was she wondering about? How I should like to
+know.”
+
+“We never shall, dear,” Marion replied. “She finished her journal just
+there.”
+
+“She couldn’t write any more, Miss; that was the reason. Her heart was
+broken because I ran away. I never imagined she would feel like that.”
+
+“Do not worry too much about it now, dear,” Marion advised. “You are
+very weak yet. When you are stronger we shall talk it all over. You
+must go to bed now and get a good sleep. I shall sit up for a while,
+and watch until Kate comes. She said she would stay with us to-night.”
+
+“Do you think the doctor will be here to-morrow?” Zell asked.
+
+“Perhaps so. If he is at Big Chance, it should not take him long to
+make the journey.”
+
+“Oh, I hope he will come soon, and bring good news about Tim.
+Surely the good Lord won’t let Tim die when I want him so much. You
+understand, don’t you, Miss?”
+
+“Indeed I do,” Marion replied, giving the girl an affectionate kiss.
+“Lovers understand many things which are hidden from others. But,
+there, you must go right to bed. I shall come presently and tuck you
+in.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 28
+
+Waiting
+
+
+That night Marion had a fairly good sleep, which she sorely needed. It
+was the first real rest she had enjoyed since leaving Hugo’s cabin on
+the overland trail. She awoke greatly refreshed, and found the Indian
+woman preparing breakfast. Zell was also awake, and brighter than she
+had been for days.
+
+“Oh, Miss!” she exclaimed as Marion entered her room, “I’ve had such a
+wonderful dream. Tim was standing right by my side, looking so well and
+strong. I am sure it is a sign that he is all right.”
+
+“Let us hope that your dream will come true,” Marion replied with a
+smile. “I, too, had such a nice dream, and almost like yours.”
+
+“Was it about the sergeant, Miss?”
+
+“Yes, and he was with us here and we were all so happy. But you had
+better get up now, dear, for Kate has breakfast almost ready.”
+
+Marion then went to see how the missionary was getting along. She found
+him asleep, although the Indian woman told her that he had talked a
+great deal during the night, and kept saying things which she could not
+at times understand.
+
+“Gikhi talk much,” she said. “Gikhi sing some tam’, all sam’ in church.
+Gikhi pray for Injun, all sam’ dis,” and she clasped her hands together
+and cast her eyes upwards. “Gikhi good man, eh?”
+
+“He certainly is, Kate. He was always good to the Indians, was he not?”
+
+“Ah, ah, good. De Lord no let Gikhi die, eh?”
+
+“Let us hope not, Kate. He seems better, doesn’t he?”
+
+“Mebbe so. Doctor come bimeby. Doctor savvey.”
+
+That day was a long one for Marion. She attended to the missionary, and
+busied herself about the house. Zell was more like her former self, and
+talked a great deal about the coming of the doctor. She sat much of the
+time near the little window looking down The Gap in the direction of
+Big Chance.
+
+“They will come that way,” she said, “and I want to be the first to see
+them. I know they will come to-day, and will bring good news about Tim.
+The Golden Horn is smiling, and that is another sign that all is well.
+Do you believe in signs, Miss?”
+
+“No, I cannot truthfully say that I do. Years ago I did, but I have got
+all over that.”
+
+“But I believe in them, Miss,” Zell declared. “The Indians have all
+kinds of signs, and they tell many things by them. They believe in
+dreams, too. Doesn’t the Bible tell about dreams which came true? I
+often think about the dream which saved the life of little Jesus. If
+that dream was true, why shouldn’t it be so to-day?”
+
+This was more than Marion was able to explain. She merely told the girl
+that she hoped her dream would come true, and that she would soon have
+her lover with her. Thus all through the day they waited and watched
+for the absent ones. Several times the missionary aroused, asked for
+his wife, and talked about the Indians, and the mission work. He took
+a little nourishment, but showed no sign that he knew what was taking
+place around him. It was only at the close of the day that he become
+very restless, tried to get up, and talked incessantly. He was seeing
+wonderful things, so it seemed to the nurse, as she sat and watched
+him. His eyes glowed, and a beautiful smile would often overspread his
+face.
+
+All day long Zell sat by the window and watched down The Gap. As the
+afternoon wore away, and night drew near, she became very anxious, and
+asked over and over again why the travellers did not come. Then when it
+became dark she crept into the room where the missionary was lying, and
+crouched upon the floor with her eyes fixed intently upon the face of
+the unconscious man. Marion tried to comfort her, but her words seemed
+to have no effect.
+
+“They will never come!” she moaned. “Something has happened to Tim,
+and they don’t want to tell me. Or maybe they have been lost on that
+terrible overland trail. A snow-slide may have swept them away.”
+
+“You must not get discouraged, dear,” Marion replied. “It is a long
+way to Big Chance and back. Perhaps the doctor was not there, and--and
+Hugo had to go to Kynox. The doctor will come as fast as he can, let us
+never doubt that. Let us get supper now, and be ready if they should
+come this evening.”
+
+“I don’t want anything to eat, Miss,” Zell declared, “and if Tim dies,
+I never want to eat again. Do hearts sometimes break for grief, Miss? I
+am sure mine is almost breaking now. I don’t believe a girl ever loved
+anyone as I love Tim.”
+
+The girl had risen from the floor and was standing erect now. Her face
+was flushed, and her dark eyes were filled with tears. Marion had never
+seen her look so beautiful, and she recorded a silent prayer that
+the poor girl might have her lover restored to her again. There was
+nothing conventional about this girl. She was one with the things of
+nature, and the untamed spirit of roving natives animated her soul.
+What she did, she did with tremendous intensity, and her love was as a
+burning fire that cannot be quenched. Her every movement was full of
+grace, and there was a remarkable refinement about her entire manner.
+Never once did Marion hear her utter a wrong word, nor express an
+improper wish. Her heart seemed pure, and her love a most sacred thing.
+This was shown as the two sat that night near the stove.
+
+“Is it wrong, Miss, to love as I love?” she suddenly asked.
+
+“Why no, dear. I am certain it is right. Why do you ask such a question
+as that?”
+
+“Oh, I hardly know,” and the girl sighed as she spoke, and placed her
+right hand wearily to her forehead. “But sometimes I think that my love
+is so wonderful a thing that it isn’t meant for such a bad girl as I
+am. Perhaps God thinks that it isn’t right for me to love Tim as I do.”
+
+“That is all nonsense, Zell,” Marion chided. “God knows your heart, and
+what a good girl you really are. You must not think that you are bad,
+for you are not. I know you ran away from school, but that doesn’t mean
+that you are bad. Let us call it a mistake.”
+
+“And you don’t think God will punish me by taking Tim away when I want
+him so much?”
+
+“No dear, God will not do that to punish you, I feel certain. If Tim
+should die, which we hope and pray he will not, it will not be God’s
+doings, but because a bad man shot him. We must not blame God for what
+others do. He wants us to live and be happy.”
+
+“Oh, I am so glad to hear you say that,” the girl replied, her eyes
+shining with gratitude. “And it is so nice to feel that God will not
+punish me for what I did. I was afraid he would.”
+
+Marion thought of the girl’s words as she sat alone that night. Zell
+was asleep in the little room, and the Indian woman was lying upon
+the cot near the stove. The house was very quiet, the crackling of
+the sticks in the stove being the only sound which broke the silence.
+Marion had been reading again the Journal, but she now let the book lie
+open in her lap, her mind filled with conflicting thoughts. Strange
+were the ways of life, she mused. Zell imagined that God punished
+people for not being good. But what about the earnest missionaries who
+had toiled so long among the Indians at The Gap? Surely there was no
+injustice with God. His ways, she knew, were past finding out, although
+she was certain that He did all things well, and overruled evil for
+good. Again she picked up the book and began to read at random words
+written with a trembling hand.
+
+“The Indians are leaving us, being drawn away by the attractions of
+white men. Only a few come to service now, and no doubt they will
+soon go, too. We have no children at school now, and the house is
+very lonely. We do not know what to do to counteract the mischief
+which has been wrought in our flock. We cannot offer the natives the
+allurements of the world which seem to appeal to them so strongly.
+Charles continues his translation work and ministering to the needs of
+the few Indians who remain, while I potter around the house and do a
+little reading and writing. My dear husband and I had a long, serious
+talk this morning, and took our troubles to Him, who has never failed
+us yet, and we were greatly comforted. Charles read that beautiful
+and pathetic story of the Master kneeling alone in Gethsemane, and it
+cheered us.”
+
+Farther on she came to another entry which arrested her attention.
+
+“We were discussing to-day the advisability of giving up our work
+here, as Tom and Kate are the only Indians who are now with us. We
+were undecided what to do, whether to go to some other place or stay
+here, when a remarkable thing happened. My husband was seated at his
+table with his Bible open before him. Almost unconsciously he kept
+turning the pages as we talked, and when at last we were silent for
+a few minutes, each knowing that the time of decision had finally
+arrived, Charles suddenly bent forward, gave a slight exclamation of
+astonishment, and fixed his eyes intently upon the page open before
+him. I never saw such an expression of awe upon his face. He seemed
+like a man transfigured, and his eyes shone with a wonderful light.
+He then began to read in a low impressive voice from Ezekiel, ‘And I
+sought for a man among them, that should make up the hedge, and stand
+in the gap before me for the land, that I should not destroy it; but I
+found none.’ So overwhelmed was Charles by these words, that he rose to
+his feet and paced rapidly up and down the room. ‘The Gap, The Gap,’
+he repeated, ‘I must stand in the gap, Martha. The Lord needs me here.
+This is The Gap, the place where I must remain. Wonderful, isn’t it,
+that I should be led to that passage? The Lord shall not want for a man
+to stand in The Gap here in the north, so long as I live.’ He urged me
+to go home to England, but I would not listen to such an idea. My place
+is by the side of my dear husband, for the Lord sometimes needs a
+woman to stand in the gap as well as a man. We then both knelt down and
+thanked God for His guidance in our time of perplexity. Our duty is now
+clear, and we look forward to the future with trustful hearts.”
+
+Marion’s eyes were dim with tears as she finished reading this
+soul-stirring record of a noble woman. Those words inspired her, and
+made her own troubles seem small. And Mrs. Norris had stood in the gap,
+dying at her post of duty. Surely such faith and self-sacrifice would
+not be in vain. With the wreck of all their work around them, two great
+souls could still go forward in simple trust that all things would come
+out right at last. Now one was gone, and the other was lying battling
+for life in his little room. Would there ever come an answer to their
+prayers? she wondered, or had they toiled in vain?
+
+She was aroused by the missionary’s voice. It was so different from
+the last few days that she was somewhat startled. Hurrying to the
+bedroom, she saw the old man’s eyes fixed intently upon the door with a
+wondering look. Seeing her, he smiled.
+
+“What has happened?” he asked in a feeble but natural voice. “What am I
+doing here in bed? And who are you? I never saw you before.”
+
+“You have been very ill,” Marion explained, going to his side. “I am a
+nurse, Marion Brisbane, from Kynox.”
+
+“I have been ill, you say? That is strange. Ah, now I begin to
+understand. It was that man with the revolver. Did he shoot me? Yes, I
+remember. He wanted something I had. Did he get it?”
+
+“What was it?” Marion asked.
+
+“The ring Hugo, the trapper, gave me to keep. Oh, I hope it is safe.”
+
+“There, now, you must not worry, Mr. Norris,” Marion replied. “Just
+keep still, and I shall get you something to eat. You are very weak
+yet. The doctor should be here soon.”
+
+“What doctor?”
+
+“Dr. Rainsford, from Kynox. He should arrive at any minute now.”
+
+“Who went for him?”
+
+“A friend of yours, Hugo, the trapper.”
+
+“He did!”
+
+Marion at length left the room and soon returned bringing some rich
+broth she had in readiness. She placed the cup on a small table by the
+bed.
+
+“Drink this,” she quietly ordered. “You must be hungry.”
+
+“I suppose I am,” the missionary replied as he complied with her
+request. “It is good of you to wait upon me. I am not used to such
+attention, and it seems strange.”
+
+“You will have to get used to it, then, Mr. Norris. I am your nurse,
+and am in the habit of being obeyed.”
+
+The missionary smiled as he sipped the broth, and toyed with the spoon
+in the cup. He was very weak, and the effect of speaking and moving
+exhausted him. This Marion saw, and she turned to leave him, when he
+touched her gently on the arm.
+
+“Don’t go yet,” he said. “I want to ask you a question. I am weak, I
+know, but tell me, have the Indians come back yet?”
+
+“Not yet,” was the reluctant reply.
+
+“You think they are coming, then?” There was a note of intense
+eagerness in the old man’s voice.
+
+“Let us hope so, Mr. Norris. Perhaps they will be here in time for
+Christmas.” This was merely a surmise on Marion’s part, but she had to
+say something of an encouraging nature.
+
+“Yes, I believe they will be here for Christmas,” and the man’s face
+brightened. “They always came then, and we had such a happy time.
+Martha, my dear wife, always looked forward to this blessed season. I
+feel certain that my flock will come back. I can see them trooping in
+from the distant camping-places, all eager to outstrip one another.
+Yes, they will surely come.”
+
+Leaving him with his vision, Marion slipped out of the room. She knew
+that he should be quiet, and she also wished to be by herself, that she
+might think. She was puzzled at the missionary’s unexpected recovery.
+She sat down near the stove, and leaned back against the wall, for she
+felt unusually tired. Had the man been shot? she asked herself. Perhaps
+the bullet had not entered his body as she had imagined. It might have
+struck him a glancing blow on the head. She should have questioned
+Tom, the Indian, more closely. Was it possible that after all he might
+recover, and live to stand in The Gap for some time yet?
+
+After a while she rose to her feet, moved softly to the door of the
+bedroom, and looked in. What she saw gave her great hope. The invalid’s
+eyes were closed, and his sleep was as that of a little child.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 29
+
+Good News
+
+
+Grey dawn found Marion at work preparing breakfast. There was plenty
+of food, for Sergeant North had attended to that before leaving. The
+missionary’s cache had been drawn upon, and the Indian woman had
+brought what she could spare from her own cabin. Marion knew that Zell
+would soon be awake and ready for something to eat. She wished to have
+the girl well and strong for the trip back to Big Chance, which she
+knew would have to be made ere long. Then the missionary needed more
+nourishing food that he, too, might gain in strength. She also had the
+absent ones in mind. At any minute her father and the doctor might
+arrive, or the sergeant and the constable. Deep in her heart she was
+more anxious about John’s return than any one else. She was not so
+much concerned now about the missionary, as he seemed to be somewhat
+improved. Anyway, he was being well looked after. But with John, it was
+different. She knew of his great daring when in the line of duty, and
+who could tell what might happen when he overtook the villain he was
+pursuing? Suppose he should be shot! The thought was terrible, and her
+hands trembled as she lifted a kettle from the stove.
+
+At that instant a sound outside arrested her attention. Then she heard
+the jingle of bells, and voices of men. In another minute the door
+was thrust suddenly open and her father entered. Closing the door to
+keep out the cold, he stood for a few seconds peering keenly before
+him, accustoming his eyes to the dimness within. Marion could see him
+plainly, and how big and powerful he appeared. What a tower of strength
+he seemed to her just then. He was heavily hooded, and the frost hung
+thick upon his beard and eyelashes. Never was she more delighted to see
+anyone, and she hurried quickly toward him.
+
+“Oh, father,” she cried, “I am so glad you have come. Is the doctor
+with you?”
+
+“Yes, he is here safe and sound. He is looking after the dogs, so will
+be in presently. How is the missionary?”
+
+“Much better, I believe. He has regained consciousness. But tell me,
+how is Tim, Zell’s lover?”
+
+“Oh, he’s getting along great, and should be well in a few weeks. The
+doctor got there just in the nick of time. My, he did a clever piece of
+work.”
+
+Hugo had scarcely finished speaking when with a great cry of joy Zell
+darted from her bedroom, and rushed toward the trapper. She had slept
+fully dressed so as to be ready should the doctor arrive in the night.
+Her eyes were shining and her face beaming with joy. Hugo looked at her
+with admiration.
+
+“Well, bless my heart!” he exclaimed. “This doesn’t look like the
+little girl I left so sick but a few days ago.”
+
+“Is Tim really better?” Zell asked, unheeding his comment. “Say it
+again.”
+
+“Yes, he is better, thanks to the Good Lord and the doctor. But he
+needs something yet to make the cure complete.”
+
+“And what is that?” Zell almost breathlessly inquired.
+
+“A little lass who scurried away and got into no end of trouble. When
+she gets back to Big Chance Tim will be all right. But, hello! what’s
+the matter? What are you blushing about?”
+
+Hugo was in great spirits, an entirely changed man from the sullen and
+morose rover of the trails. He seemed like one who had escaped from
+prison, and was enjoying to the full his unaccustomed freedom. Marion
+watched him with wonder and secret rejoicing. He was like the father
+she had known as a little girl. He had the same hearty voice and the
+ringing laugh. His very presence inspired confidence and good will.
+
+In a few minutes the doctor entered and was given a hearty greeting by
+Marion and Zell. He was a splendid type of man, a great trailsman, and
+beloved by miners and Indians alike. He had given up a good practice
+to come to the north to assist in the medical work which was being
+carried on at Kynox and other centres. No distance was too great,
+and difficulties were as nothing in his work of loving mercy. The
+most abject native would receive from him the same care as the most
+important person in the country. To the hospital at Kynox he had been a
+tower of strength, and everywhere the miners and prospectors swore by
+the word and honor of Doctor Stephen Rainsford.
+
+“This is the life I like best,” he had once said to a man who had asked
+him why he was willing to bury himself in the north. “It is the kind
+of service that suits my make-up. Cities and towns outside are crowded
+with doctors, too many, in fact, but in a country such as this they are
+very scarce.”
+
+Dr. Rainsford examined the missionary most thoroughly. He would not
+touch a bite of food until he had done so, hungry and tired though he
+was.
+
+“You are right in your conjecture, Miss Brisbane,” he at last informed
+the nurse. “The bullet did not enter his body, as you at first
+supposed. It evidently struck him a glancing blow on the head, judging
+from the mark I find there. Then I find another mark which might have
+been made when he fell, hitting, no doubt, the table as he did so. It
+was certainly a narrow escape.”
+
+“It was the Lord’s doing,” the missionary quietly replied. “Only His
+intervention saved me, for the revolver was fired pointblank at my
+head. He must have work for me still to do or else He would not have
+spared me. It is good of you, doctor, to come here on my behalf. I have
+often heard of your noble deeds. I hope you will be comfortable in this
+humble abode, and make yourself perfectly at home.”
+
+This Dr. Rainsford was well able to do. He was the life of the mission
+house, and as he and Hugo ate the breakfast which Marion had prepared,
+he related amusing incidents of the trip from Big Chance.
+
+“My friend Hugo, here, set me a hard pace,” he laughingly remarked. “He
+was in such a hurry that he would hardly stop to eat or to sleep.”
+
+“You seemed to be hungry about all the time,” the trapper laughingly
+replied. “You wanted to stop every hour or so for something to eat. We
+were entirely out of grub when we got here.”
+
+“Did you pass the place where we had that terrible experience with the
+snow-slide?” Marion asked. “I shudder whenever I think of it.”
+
+“We did, although the last storm covered up the great scar. I was in
+fear of my life when coming along that trail. We heard a great roar
+one night and I am certain it was another avalanche. We shall not go
+back that way, if I have anything to say about it.”
+
+“When do you expect to return, doctor?”
+
+“As soon as possible. I may be needed at Kynox. I have been away for
+some time.”
+
+“Are the nurses getting on all right?”
+
+“Very well, indeed. But they were worrying about you when I left.”
+
+“Can’t you wait until Sergeant North and the constable return?” Marion
+asked. “It would be so nice for us all to go back together.”
+
+“When do you expect them, Miss Brisbane?”
+
+“I do not know. It is impossible to tell how long it will take them to
+capture the man they are after. You have heard about the murder near
+the C. D. Cut-off, I suppose?”
+
+“Oh, yes, it is the talk of the entire country. And, by the way, I have
+something which will interest you in connection with that murder. It is
+an article in a paper I received just before I left Kynox. And I have
+several letters for you, too, I had forgotten all about them.”
+
+Rising and crossing the room, he picked up a small leather bag he had
+deposited on a bench, opened it, fumbled around and at last brought
+forth a package.
+
+“That’s for the sergeant,” he explained. “Letters galore. Ah, here’s
+yours, Miss Brisbane,” he continued as he handed to her several letters
+tied together with a string.
+
+Eagerly Marion cut the string and examined the letters. By the
+postmarks she had a fairly good idea from whom they came, friends she
+had known in other days, and who had never forgotten her. What a feast
+she would have reading their messages when alone by herself, if ever
+that time should come.
+
+“Yes, here’s the paper at last.” It was the doctor speaking, and
+glancing up, Marion saw him unfolding a copy of the little weekly paper
+published at Swift Stream. “Now, listen to this,” he continued, “and
+let me know what you make of it.” He then began to read.
+
+“‘The C. D. Cut-off Murder.
+
+“‘A recent despatch throws new light upon the murder of William Haines
+and his wife which took place a short time ago near the C. D. Cut-off.
+From the description of them which has been received it seems that
+they were living under an assumed name. They were two of a noted band
+of thieves, but having changed their manner of living they fled to
+the Yukon, buried themselves in the wilderness. Here Haines, whose
+real name was Marson, cut wood for the river steamers, and rocked out
+gold on the river bars during the summer. He and his wife were noted
+for their hospitality to all travellers along the river. The murderer
+has not yet been found, although a certain man is under suspicion.
+The Police have information that may lead to his conviction should he
+be found. It seems that this man knew Haines and his wife years ago,
+and was himself one of the notorious band of thieves. He evidently
+discovered the whereabouts of his former companions, and visited them.
+What led to the fearful crime is not as yet known. It is surmised,
+however, that the Haines possessed considerable money, or valuable
+jewellery, and a quarrel over this may have been the cause of the
+murder.’”
+
+“That’s it, I believe,” Hugo interrupted. “There was a ring, and I
+found it, a valuable one, if I am not greatly mistaken.”
+
+“You!” the doctor exclaimed, nearly dropping his paper in his
+excitement. “Why, then, didn’t you give it to the Police? What did you
+do with it?”
+
+“Kept it, of course, doctor, until I found someone I could trust. There
+were several reasons why I didn’t hand it over to the Police. And,
+besides, I wanted to keep it myself until I found the man who killed
+Bill Haines and his wife, and then--” Hugo’s eyes flashed with the old
+fire as he abruptly ended, and stood gazing straight before him.
+
+“Have you the ring now?” Marion asked. Her voice was low, and the old
+dread was upon her. Would not the possession of the ring implicate her
+father in the crime? How could he clear himself?
+
+“No, I have not the ring,” Hugo replied. “I gave it to the missionary
+to keep for me. But I cannot find it anywhere. It must be hidden in a
+very secure place, or else it has been stolen.”
+
+“It has been stolen.”
+
+These low impressive words caused all to start and look quickly around.
+What they saw was almost unbelievable. There in the doorway stood the
+missionary, white and haggard. His eyes were bright and filled with the
+light of determination. He tottered and leaned against the door post
+for support. The doctor stepped forward to assist him.
+
+“You should not be here,” he advised. “You are not strong enough to
+walk yet. Let me help you back to bed.”
+
+“No, no, I must stay up for a while. I shall soon be all right. I have
+something to tell you, and the Indians will soon be here, so I must be
+ready to receive them. Help me to my chair, please.”
+
+Seeing how thoroughly determined the old man was, the doctor did as
+he was requested, and assisted him to his chair which Hugo had drawn
+up close to the stove. Wearily the missionary sank down and his head
+drooped forward. Marion at once brought him a drink of hot broth which
+when he had taken he felt stronger.
+
+“Thank you so much,” he murmured. “You are all very good to me. I shall
+be stronger in a few minutes. I am weaker than I thought I was. Now,
+about the ring. You gave it to me, Hugo, to keep. But it was stolen by
+Bill, the Slugger. When I wouldn’t give it to him, he shot me. That is
+all I remember. He must have taken it from my pocket.”
+
+A cry from Zell startled them. The girl was standing before the
+missionary with an expression of great fear upon her face.
+
+“What is the matter, dear?” Marion asked, going to her side.
+
+“It was Bill who killed Bill Haines and his wife,” she said in a hoarse
+whisper. “Tim told me so. But don’t let Bill know that I told you, or
+he will kill me.”
+
+“Don’t you worry about that, girl,” Hugo replied. “Bill won’t touch
+you. He’ll have all that he can attend to without meddling with you.”
+
+Just at that moment the door suddenly opened and Kate entered. She was
+unusually excited, and the expression upon her face was one of great
+joy. She crossed the room and stood before the missionary.
+
+“Injun come,” she said. “More bimeby.”
+
+“I know it, Kate,” was the quiet reply. “The Lord told me that they
+were coming. Heat the church and ring the bell at service time.”
+
+“Church warm, Gikhi. Kate no let fire go out.”
+
+“What! did you keep the fire going?” Mr. Norris asked in surprise.
+
+“Ah, ah, Kate keep church warm.”
+
+“Why? I didn’t tell you to do that.”
+
+“Gikhi pray for Injun, eh? Gikhi pray Injun come bimeby?”
+
+“Yes, Kate, I always prayed that the Indians might return some day.”
+
+“Ah, ah, good,” and the woman’s face beamed with pleasure. “Kate know
+Lord hear Gikhi. Kate have church warm when Injun come.”
+
+Impulsively the missionary reached out and caught Kate’s rough hand in
+his. There were tears in his eyes, and he was deeply impressed by this
+woman’s remarkable faith and unswerving devotion.
+
+“God bless you, Kate,” he murmured. “Your faith is wonderful.”
+
+Marion’s eyes were misty as she stood silently witnessing this moving
+scene. Even Hugo and the doctor were deeply affected. They turned away,
+that their emotion might not be noted. But with Zell it was different.
+She dropped upon her knees before the missionary, caught his disengaged
+hand in hers and pressed it to her lips. She uttered no sound, but her
+action was more eloquent than words, and the missionary understood and
+was glad.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 30
+
+His Message of Farewell
+
+
+The missionary was greatly interested over the arrival of the natives.
+He insisted upon sitting at the little window facing the village where
+through a small clear space he could watch all that was going on
+outside. Zell stood near and at times she would draw his attention to
+Indians who passed on their way to their lodges.
+
+“Look, Gikhi, there are Slim Jim and his wife. They seem to be glad to
+get back. And, oh, there is Tommy Titsu with his mother! How big he is.
+He has grown so much since he left the school.”
+
+And truly it was an inspiring scene upon which their eyes rested. The
+entire place had suddenly become animated as if by magic. Men, women,
+and children were hurrying to and fro, and dogs innumerable were
+scurrying about. But so far not one of the Indians had come to the
+mission house, although all had glanced in that direction in passing.
+At length Kate entered and approached the missionary. Upon her face was
+an expression of deep concern.
+
+“What is the matter, Kate?” the missionary asked.
+
+“Tom no come,” she replied. “Tom die, mebbe.”
+
+“Why, what makes you think so, Kate?”
+
+“Injun say Tom lost. Injun drink hootch, drive Tom from lodge. Injun no
+find Tom.”
+
+“Where was that?”
+
+“In hills. Bad white man bring hootch. Injun drink. Tom say ‘stop.’
+Injun hit Tom on head. Tom go ’way, die, mebbe.”
+
+“Where are the white men now, Kate?”
+
+“P’lice ketch ’um. Injun bring white man to Gap.”
+
+“Are they here?” Marion eagerly asked. “Have the Police come in?”
+
+“No P’lice come,” the woman replied. “Injun bring white man.”
+
+“Do they know where the Police are?”
+
+“Injun no savvey. Chase Bill, mebbe.”
+
+Although Marion was interested in the coming of the Indians, she was
+greatly disappointed because the sergeant had not returned. Hugo
+noticed this, and whispered a few words to the doctor, and together
+they left the building. They were gone for about an hour, and when they
+returned they explained where they had been.
+
+“We’ve been interviewing those white men,” the doctor announced, “and
+a queer story they relate. They told us that they were trading with
+the natives when two policemen came upon them, seized them and sent
+them to The Gap under a strong Indian guard. That was their yarn. But
+we learned from several natives that they were hootch pedlars, and had
+stirred up a large camp of natives to wild frenzy, and were making
+things lively. They also cast out Tom, the Indian, when he tried to
+show them the error of their ways.”
+
+“Did they harm the sergeant and the constable?” Marion anxiously asked.
+
+“Indeed they didn’t,” Hugo replied. “From what we gather those two men
+struck terror into the hearts of the entire band by their stern and
+prompt action. How I wish I had been there. Trust Sergeant North to
+handle a serious situation. He has never failed yet.”
+
+“Perhaps it will be different, though, when he meets Bill, the
+Slugger,” Marion suggested. “He is a desperate man, so I have heard.”
+
+“He may be all that, but what can he do against those two sleuth-hounds
+of the trails? He won’t have even a look-in.”
+
+“But perhaps he will see them coming, hide, and shoot them down before
+they can do anything.”
+
+Both Hugo and the doctor laughed at her fears, and told her not to
+worry. But worry she did, and she imagined the sergeant lying in the
+snow with no one to help him. She told herself that she was very
+foolish, but she could not banish the thought. Anyway, she felt that
+she must hide her fears, so she said nothing more, and went quietly
+about her work.
+
+During the afternoon a number of Indians came to the house, and to
+these the missionary talked in the native tongue. Marion could not
+understand anything of the conversation, but Zell knew, and she
+interpreted in a whisper what was being said.
+
+“The Gikhi is saying how pleased he is to see the Indians back,” she
+explained to the nurse. “He is asking how they made out with their
+trapping, and if they brought in many pelts. They are telling him that
+they have done very well, but that they haven’t had as good success
+as they used to when they held services every night in their lodges.
+They are asking the Gikhi to forgive them, and he says he will, but
+that they must ask God to forgive them. They say they will, and are now
+asking for a service to-night in the church. The Gikhi tells them how
+pleased he is, and that he will be there to speak to all the Indians.”
+
+When the natives had gone, the missionary showed signs of great
+weariness, so the doctor advised him to lie down and rest.
+
+“You must be strong for the service to-night,” he informed him. “You
+are weak yet, remember, and you must be in a fit condition to speak to
+your flock.”
+
+“You are quite right,” the old man agreed, as he allowed himself to
+be led to his little room. “I must speak to them, for there are many
+things I have to say. This has been a wonderful day, and the Lord
+is bringing marvellous things to pass. I have lived to see my flock
+return. Oh, if my dear wife were only here to be a sharer of my joy!”
+
+During the remainder of the afternoon the house was kept very quiet so
+as not to disturb the missionary. Hugo and the doctor both had a sleep,
+which they needed. Marion and Zell sat by the window watching what
+was taking place outside until darkness shrouded the land. They then
+lighted several candles, and Zell poured out to the nurse the thoughts
+which were uppermost in her mind, and so near her heart.
+
+“The Gikhi will need someone to look after him, Miss, and I am going to
+stay with him. Tim, I know, will come, too, and the Gikhi will marry us
+and we can live right here. I want to make up for the wrong I did, and
+show the Gikhi that I am a good girl.”
+
+“That is a splendid plan, Zell,” Marion replied. “But I thought that
+you were planning to go outside. You always wanted to go, didn’t you?”
+
+“I want to do that more than anything in the world except to marry
+Tim,” was the candid confession. “But it is my duty to stay here and
+look after the Gikhi. I long to see the wonderful things which Tim has
+told me about in the big cities outside. But while the Gikhi is alive,
+I am going to stay and care for him--that is, if he will let me.”
+
+“You are a good girl, Zell,” Marion whispered, as she placed her arm
+lovingly around her companion and drew her close to her. “I wish you
+could go with me when I leave this country. I shall miss you very much.”
+
+“And will you go away, Miss?” Zell asked. “Oh, how can I get along
+without you? You have been so good to me. I shall never forget you.”
+
+Shortly before the appointed time for service, the missionary was up
+and eager to reach the building. He partook of a little food, and when
+well wrapped in his big fur coat, he was assisted by Hugo and the
+doctor out of the house and across the open. He stepped out bravely
+at first, but by the time the church was reached he was very weak.
+He smiled as he entered the building, which was filled with natives,
+some being forced to stand. He walked slowly up the aisle, and when
+he reached the little vestry, he sank down upon a small bench against
+the wall. He was determined to wear his robes, and Marion, who had
+followed, assisted him with his long white surplice, which came almost
+to his feet.
+
+“My stole, my stole; don’t forget that,” he reminded. “There it is
+hanging on that peg. The Indians always like to see me fully robed.”
+
+He was trembling with excitement as he made his way out of the vestry
+into the chancel. Here he knelt down, and when he had risen to his
+feet, he announced a hymn, and in a quavering voice started the tune in
+the native language. The Indians followed, and soon all were singing
+in the heartiest manner. To Marion this was all very wonderful, and
+she knew that the Indians were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Then
+followed the service, after which the missionary began his address. He
+leaned against the lectern for support, and it was only his excitement
+which enabled him to stand at all. He spoke very impressively for some
+time, his voice growing weaker every minute. Marion longed to speak to
+him, and advise him to desist, but his animated face and the marvellous
+light in his eyes restrained her. He seemed to her like some unearthly
+being. His white hair, flowing beard, and tall form made a most
+impressive scene in that dimly-lighted building. He had his message to
+deliver, and it would be almost sacrilege to interrupt him.
+
+At length he stopped, placed his hand wearily to his forehead, and then
+began to speak in English.
+
+“I wish to say a few words to you, my kind white friends,” he said.
+“This service is the direct answer to my prayers. I have waited long
+for this occasion, and I knew that the Lord would hear, and bring this
+to pass. At times I was tempted to leave this place and go elsewhere.
+But I was determined that the Lord would not be without a man to stand
+in The Gap. I have stood here for long years, and the Lord has been
+very good. I can say like that worthy man of old, ‘Lord, now lettest
+Thou Thy servant depart in peace according to Thy word. For mine eyes
+have seen Thy salvation which Thou hast prepared--’”
+
+He suddenly stopped, his face turned deathly white, his hands groped as
+if for support, and then he dropped upon the floor right at the foot
+of the lectern. With a startled cry, Marion darted to his side, while
+Hugo and the doctor hurried forward. The latter knelt upon the floor
+and quickly examined the prostrate man. For a few minutes a complete
+silence prevailed. The Indians stood as statues, awe-struck by the
+scene before them. At length the doctor rose to his feet, his face
+very grave. He stood as if dazed. Marion noticed this, and touched him
+lightly on the arm.
+
+“Can’t you do anything for him?” she asked.
+
+“No, he is beyond earthly aid,” he replied in a low whisper.
+
+“We must tell the Indians and get them out of the church.”
+
+So absorbed was Marion with what had just taken place that she noticed
+nothing else. She stood bewildered and perplexed, not even heeding
+the light tread of moccasined feet up the aisle. But when a big tall
+form stood by her side, she glanced quickly around, and when she saw
+Sergeant North standing there it was only with difficulty that she
+suppressed a cry of joy and astonishment. The next instant a strong
+arm was placed around her, and silently the two stood and looked
+steadfastly upon the dead man. Although greatly saddened with what
+had just taken place, Marion’s heart beat fast at the thought that
+John was safe and once more with her. She knew that the missionary had
+served his life nobly and well, and that he had died in harness, and
+in the very place where he would have wished to die, surrounded by his
+returned flock for whom he had given his life. It surely was not wrong
+for her to feel happy on such an occasion with her loved one with her
+again.
+
+And as they stood there, Old Tom, Kate, and Zell came slowly forward,
+and stood looking upon their beloved Gikhi. Marion was impressed at
+the quietness of their manner, and the expression of awe and reverence
+upon their faces. At a word from the doctor, Tom turned and spoke
+briefly to the Indians. In a few minutes they were out of the church
+and hurrying to their own lodges.
+
+“Perhaps you had better go back to the mission house, Miss Brisbane,”
+the doctor suggested. “The sergeant might as well go with you. Hugo,
+Tom, and I can do all that’s necessary now.”
+
+The sergeant at once took a step forward, faced the missionary lying
+before him, and gave the military salute.
+
+“To a noble man,” he simply explained. He then turned, took Marion by
+the arm, and together they moved down the aisle, and out of the church.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 31
+
+Plans
+
+
+“Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Reverently the doctor
+read the words to the committal of the Burial Service, while Hugo stood
+near and sprinkled the earth upon the rough box which contained the
+mortal remains of Charles Norris. The Indians had nearly all arrived
+and were crowded about the open grave. They had lost their best earthly
+friend, and their sad faces showed how fully they realised the fact.
+Marion, with Zell, stood near the grave with her father on one side and
+the sergeant on the other, with the constable just behind. Close by
+was another grave, marked with a simple wooden cross, bearing only the
+name of Martha Norris, and the date of her death. As Marion looked at
+the emblem of salvation she thought of the life which the woman had led
+as revealed by the Journal she had left. Soon there would be another
+cross, and in years to come strangers would read the inscriptions, and
+wonder, perhaps. But the Indians would remember, she felt sure, and
+would pass on from generation to generation the story of those two
+pioneers of the Gospel at The Gap.
+
+John North, too, was thinking deeply. He had not spoken again of the
+deep things of his heart since that day out in the mountains. Marion
+knew nothing of all this, although she was surprised at his fervent
+“Amen” when the doctor had finished reading the Burial Service. But as
+she turned away from the grave and walked slowly back to the mission
+house, he told her all. It was the confession of a man who had fought
+a hard fight against his doubts, and had conquered. There was little
+of the sentimental about North, but his body trembled and his voice
+became somewhat husky as he talked. Among other things he told of the
+impression made upon him by the sight of the missionary maintaining his
+post at The Gap, and the thoughts which had come to him on the mountain
+trail. He had not finished his story when they reached the mission
+house and entered. Then it was that Marion threw her arms impetuously
+around his neck, and in words broken with emotion told him of her joy
+at the great change that had come into his life.
+
+“It is almost too good to be true,” she said. “How I have longed and
+prayed that it might come some day, but I had no idea it would be so
+soon.”
+
+“It is due in a large measure to you, sweetheart,” the sergeant
+acknowledged, giving her an affectionate kiss. “It was your love which
+first began to warm the coldness of my heart. I thought that such a
+thing was impossible until I met you. Then all that followed were like
+so many links in the wonderful chain of faith. I shall never forget
+that terrible night I spent with that raving maniac in that cabin.
+I comprehended then as never before the hopeless nature of unbelief
+and disobedience to the higher life of the Master. I shall tell you
+sometime of the wonderful thoughts that came to me as I watched by that
+wretched man. They are almost too sacred to mention, but I shall reveal
+them to you some day. Then when we reached The Gap in time to attend
+that service, and listened to the missionary’s farewell words, and
+later looked upon his face so calm in death, the last strand of doubt
+was broken. What a difference between that man of God and the wretched
+raving creature we have confined in the patrol-house over yonder. That
+missionary standing at his post of duty, or ‘in the gap,’ as he termed
+it, has had a far more reaching effect than he ever knew. His remaining
+at his post, true and faithful, undaunted by failure, praying and
+trusting, was an important link in saving my soul. There, I’m afraid
+that I have tired you with all this. Anyway, it relieves me to have
+someone to speak to.”
+
+“Don’t think that you have tired me, John,” Marion replied. “You have
+no idea how happy you have made me by telling me all this.”
+
+No longer did they have time for further conversation, as steps sounded
+outside, and Hugo and the doctor entered, with Zell following close
+behind. By their quiet manner and sober faces it was easy to tell how
+deeply they had been affected by the service they had just attended.
+
+“We have done all we can,” the doctor remarked as he sat down somewhat
+wearily in a chair near the stove. “I have attended many funerals in my
+life, but none ever appealed to me like the one I have just witnessed.
+It was the grandest of them all. As I stood there watching the Indians
+fill in the grave, I thought of Stevenson’s touching words:
+
+  “‘Under the wide and starry sky
+    Dig my grave and let me lie.
+    Glad did I live and gladly die,
+    And I lay me down with a will.
+    Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
+    And the hunter is home from the hill.’”
+
+“You can quote poetry as neatly as Rolfe,” the sergeant remarked. “You
+two are well mated. He should be here to cap your verse.”
+
+“No doubt he could do it better, sergeant, for I understand he is
+filled with poetry. That piece I quoted is about all I remember, and it
+seems suitable to the death of that grand old man.”
+
+As the afternoon was now well advanced, Marion and Zell began to
+prepare supper. When the meal was ready and all gathered at the table,
+the constable arrived. He looked very tired and worn, but quite
+cheerful.
+
+“My, I’m glad to be out of hearing of that maniac,” he remarked, as he
+removed his cap and outer coat. “He’s getting worse all the time, and
+the swelling in his leg is very bad. I believe it will finish him.”
+
+“Is he well guarded?” the sergeant asked.
+
+“Yes. Several Indians are looking after him.”
+
+“What are you going to do with him?” Hugo enquired.
+
+“Take him to Kynox,” the sergeant replied. “It will be a hard and
+disagreeable trip. But Rolfe will take several Indians along. You
+must get away early in the morning, Tom,” he reminded, turning to the
+constable. “Get everything ready to-night.”
+
+“I have made all preparations, sergeant, and have secured a fine team
+of dogs. We shall travel fast.”
+
+“Suppose you take my team, sergeant, while I go with Tom,” the doctor
+suggested. “I am in a hurry, too, and the madman might need special
+attention on the way. There is little I can do, I am well aware, but
+then one never knows. The rest of you can travel more leisurely.”
+
+“Are we to close up this house, and leave it just as it is?” Marion
+asked. “What a pity there is no one to take the missionary’s place and
+continue his work.”
+
+“Oh, there will be some one ready to come, never fear,” the sergeant
+replied. “I shall notify the Bishop and most likely he will send a man
+here. We need not worry about that just now. The Indians will remain
+loyal, I feel quite certain. They have been taught a severe lesson.”
+
+All through the day Hugo had been very quiet, speaking seldom, and
+apparently wrapped in serious thought. But that night as they all
+gathered around the stove, he filled, lighted his pipe, and looked upon
+the little group.
+
+“I suppose this will be the last night we shall spend together for
+some time,” he began. “Zell will marry Tim and live outside, so her
+lot in life will be settled. The doctor will still carry on his good
+work among the needy, and will win more jewels in his crown. Rolfe will
+develop into a full-fledged poet. Not likely he hears what I am saying,
+as he is so busy writing--a masterpiece, no doubt. Now, that leaves
+three of us, and what are we to do?”
+
+“Two will get married as soon as they can, if I am not mistaken,” the
+doctor replied with a twinkle in his eye.
+
+“Oh, not for some time yet,” Marion declared. “At least, not until John
+leaves the Force.”
+
+“And when will that be?” Hugo enquired.
+
+“Next May,” the sergeant replied. “My time will be up then, and I am
+going to leave. I am getting tired of this roving life, and have been
+at it too long already. I should have left years ago.”
+
+“Next May, eh? Well, that will suit fine,” and Hugo blew a cloud of
+smoke into the air. “Now, what are you going to do then?”
+
+“I have not the least idea. Go outside, I suppose, and begin all over
+again. The outlook is not very bright, I assure you.”
+
+“And having a wife will make it all the more difficult, eh?”
+
+“Perhaps so. But something will turn up.”
+
+“Now, suppose something should turn up here before you go out, how
+would that suit you?”
+
+“Very well, indeed. But what do you mean?”
+
+“How would you like to do some mining?”
+
+“Not on your life, unless I can strike something rich. I do not feel
+inclined to spend the rest of my days following the will o’ wisp of
+gold. I have seen too much of it. Why, there are many men wandering
+about this country hoping and hoping in vain for a rich find.”
+
+“But suppose the gold is already found, what then?”
+
+“That would make a big difference.”
+
+“Certainly it would, and that’s why I have mentioned it. Now listen. I
+know where there is gold, plenty of it. I struck it rich several years
+ago in a creek away to the south of us, and I am the only one who knows
+where it is.”
+
+“You did!” The sergeant as well as all the others were keenly
+interested now. Even Rolfe paused in his writing to listen.
+
+“Yes, I struck it rich,” Hugo repeated, “but never intended to make use
+of it. I never expected to have any need of it, and did not report my
+discovery. During those years when I thought that I was being followed
+by the Police I was very vindictive and gloated over the thought that
+I knew where there was gold, and it was known to me alone. At times I
+longed to tell some poor unfortunate devils where it was, but I knew
+that others would reap the benefit, so I said nothing. Perhaps it was
+just as well, otherwise we would not have it to look forward to now.”
+
+“Where is this creek of which you speak?” the sergeant asked.
+
+“That must remain a secret until we are ready to begin work,” Hugo
+replied with a smile. “There are several of us here, and it might
+unintentionally leak out. But the gold is there, and it will keep a
+while longer. I have samples of it in one of my cabins which I shall
+show you some day. When the time is ripe, I shall notify you all here,
+even Marion and Zell, so we can all get in on the ground floor.”
+
+“May I have a hand in it, too?” the doctor asked.
+
+“Sure. We shall need a doctor along, and you shall have your share.
+Then when we get the gold we can either do the mining ourselves, or
+sell out. There will be no trouble about that.”
+
+“Do you think you could live in any other country but this, father?”
+Marion questioned.
+
+“Just give me a chance, my dear, and you will see how soon I shall hike
+outside. I have several old scores to settle there which money alone
+can accomplish. I have been shamefully treated, and never wanted to
+square up until recently. Oh, yes, I shall make a sensation some day in
+the smug business world, and money alone can do it. But that’s another
+secret which must remain with me until the right time. There, now, I
+think I have told you enough for one night. Henceforth I shall be no
+longer Hugo, the trapper, but ‘Hugo, the miner.’ How does that sound?”
+
+“Very good,” the sergeant replied. “But before you go to bed you
+must listen to what Rolfe has written. He has finished his poem of
+inspiration and is waiting to read it. Come on, Tom, and get through
+with it.”
+
+“It isn’t much,” the constable replied, “but merely a sample of what
+I shall do when I get time. These are just a few hurried thoughts I
+have been turning over in my mind ever since I came to The Gap and saw
+the old missionary standing bravely at his post of duty. It applies
+not only to him but to others of his kind. Later I shall lick the
+verses into proper shape. I have called this poem ‘Across the Marches,’
+suggested by some words I read in an old paper which I happened to
+pick up in this very house. It was a report of an address given by the
+Archbishop of Canterbury to a number of missionaries leaving for their
+distant fields of work. ‘We from across the Marches stand by you in
+your great endeavours,’ he said. Those words appealed to me. This is
+what I have written as my humble tribute:
+
+  “Where the land lies dumb in winter, and the mountain trail is steep,
+   Where the frost bites like hot iron, and the snow-shoes gall the
+     feet;
+   Where the wind rips down the valley with its deadly, hurtling sting,
+   And the snow drifts like long breakers in its blinding, maddening
+     fling,
+   There across the great lone Marches press the Heralds of the King.”
+
+  “Where the frontier shelves to vagueness, and the trails lead God
+     knows where,
+   Where the Great Lights hurl their magic through the twanging midnight
+     air,
+   There they grope and there they falter, sweeping plain and crested
+     dome,
+   Holy Ordered, sturdy cruisers, bringing light where’er they roam,
+   Heartened far across the Marches by the Church of God at Home.”
+
+  “There they lead and there they battle, there the ranks are thinned
+     and wan,
+   But they lift aloft the Banner, and the few still stagger on;
+   On, with faces white and weary, on, the tide of night to stem;
+   On, for precious soul-wrought jewels for the Master’s diadem;
+   Church of Christ, across the Marches, lift your pleading prayers for
+     them.”
+
+Slowly Rolfe folded the paper when he had finished, and thrust it into
+an inside pocket. There was silence for a few minutes, and then Hugo
+reached out his big right hand.
+
+“Put it there, young man,” he said. “I congratulate you for those
+words. You have struck the right note, eh, sergeant, don’t you think
+so?”
+
+“I do,” was the quiet reply. “Tom, I believe you will make a poet yet
+if you keep at it.”
+
+“He is a poet now,” Marion declared. “I enjoyed that poem very much,
+and you will let me have a copy of it, will you not, Mr. Rolfe?”
+
+“Why, yes, Miss Brisbane, I shall be delighted to do so. But suppose
+you wait until I publish my first book of poems. I shall dedicate it to
+you if you will let me, and I shall include this poem in the volume.”
+
+That night Marion and the sergeant sat long together after the others
+had gone to rest. There were many things they talked about in low
+voices, and wonderful were the plans they formed for the future. They
+were seated side by side near the stove, their eyes bright and their
+hearts filled with joy and contentment.
+
+“It is very wonderful how everything has turned out all right at the
+last,” Marion whispered. “This northland will always be very dear to
+me. It was here I found my long-lost father, and you.”
+
+“And wonderful things are still ahead, let us hope,” the sergeant
+replied. “It seems to me that Another has been guiding and leading us
+together. And may He who has guided us still continue to guide over
+that long, long trail which lies beyond.”
+
+He bent his head and his lips met hers in one ravishing kiss of
+enduring love.
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
+
+
+  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
+
+  Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
+
+  Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
+
+  Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77231 ***
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+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77231 ***</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h1>The Trail of<br>
+The Golden Horn</h1>
+<hr class="tiny">
+<p class="ph1">H. A. CODY</p>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<p class="ph3">By H. A. CODY</p>
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>THE TRAIL OF THE GOLDEN HORN<br>
+  THE KING’S ARROW<br>
+  JESS OF THE REBEL TRAIL<br>
+  GLEN OF THE HIGH NORTH<br>
+  THE TOUCH OF ABNER<br>
+  THE UNKNOWN WRESTLER<br>
+  UNDER SEALED ORDERS<br>
+  IF ANY MAN SIN<br>
+  THE CHIEF OF THE RANGES<br>
+  THE FOURTH WATCH<br>
+  THE LONG PATROL<br>
+  ROD OF THE LONE PATROL<br>
+  THE FRONTIERSMAN</p>
+</div></div></div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="title page"></div>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="titlepage">
+<p><span class="xxlarge">THE TRAIL OF<br>
+  THE GOLDEN HORN</span></p>
+
+<p>BY<br>
+<span class="xlarge">H. A. CODY</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="large">McCLELLAND AND STEWART<br>
+  PUBLISHERS &#160; : &#160; : &#160; TORONTO</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center">COPYRIGHT, 1923,<br>
+  <br>
+  BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_logo.jpg" alt="publisher's logo"></div>
+
+<p class="center">THE TRAIL OF THE GOLDEN HORN. III</p>
+<hr class="tiny">
+<p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span>
+<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<table>
+<tr><td class="tdr"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span></td><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><span class="allsmcap">PAGE</span></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">1</td><td> The Smokeless Cabin</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">      9</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">2</td><td> A Night Vision</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17">      17</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">3</td><td> The <i>Tell-tale</i> Lock</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27">      27</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">4</td><td> To be Continued</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37">      37</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">5</td><td> Face to Face</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_47">      47</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">6</td><td> Zell</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57">      57</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">7</td><td> Terrors of the Night</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_67">      67</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">8</td><td> Hugo to the Rescue</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_76">      76</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">9</td><td> Stains on the Snow</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84">      84</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">10</td><td> Lost</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_92">     92</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">11</td><td> Where Strength Counts</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_99">      99</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">12</td><td> Confession</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_109">      109</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">13</td><td> The Rush of Doom</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_118">      118</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">14</td><td> Life for Life</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_126">      126</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">15</td><td> The Truce of the Storm</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_136">      136</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">16</td><td> The Man of The Gap</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_145">      145</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">17</td><td> The Trapper Arrives</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_155">      155</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">18</td><td> A Cowardly Deed</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_166">      166</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">19</td><td> Anxious Waiting</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_176">      176</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">20</td><td> United Forces</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_186">      186</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">21</td><td> Helping Hands</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_194">      194</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">22</td><td> The Messenger</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_206">      206</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">23</td><td> Rejected</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_213">      213</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">24</td><td> The Wages of Sin</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_221">      221</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">25</td><td> Maintien le Droit</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_229">      229</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[vi]</span></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">26</td><td> The Night Struggle</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_241">      241</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">27</td><td> An Unfolded Record</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_251">      251</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">28</td><td> Waiting</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_261">      261</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">29</td><td> Good News</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_270">      270</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">30</td><td> His Message of Farewell</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_279">      279</a></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="tdr">31</td><td> Plans</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_287">      287</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span>
+<p class="ph3">The Trail of the Golden Horn</p>
+</div>
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>
+<p class="ph2">THE TRAIL OF THE<br>
+GOLDEN HORN</p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 1<br>
+<small>The Smokeless Cabin</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">“NO Smoke!”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo, the trapper, rasped forth these
+words upon the stinging air as he paused abruptly
+upon the brow of a steep hill. He was puzzled, and
+he rubbed the frost from his eyelids with his mittened
+right hand. Perhaps he had not seen aright. But no,
+he had not been mistaken. There, close to the river,
+stood the little cabin, nestling amidst a grove of young
+firs and jack-pines. But no smoke poured from the
+pipe stuck up through the roof.</p>
+
+<p>“Strange! strange!” Hugo muttered. “There should
+be smoke. Bill Haines hasn’t moved overnight, that’s
+certain. Something must be wrong.”</p>
+
+<p>His eyes swept the landscape to right and left.
+Everywhere stretched the vast wilderness of glistening
+snow, dark forests, and towering mountains. That
+long white streak, winding like a serpent, was the
+river, now frozen from bank to bank. From a few
+open places where the current was exceptionally swift
+vapour rose like dense clouds of smoke. Near one of
+these stood the cabin, for running water was a luxury
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>in the Yukon when winter gripped the land in its icy
+embrace.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo hated the river, and always kept as far away
+as possible. To him it was a treacherous demon, and
+the great dark breathing-places seemed like yawning
+mouths ever open for new victims. That curling
+vapour appeared more sinister now than ever. He
+glanced again at the lonely cabin. Why was there no
+smoke rising above its squat roof? Had Bill Haines
+slipped while drawing water? Such a thing was not
+unlikely. But what about his wife? Surely she would
+keep the fire burning for the sake of herself and child.
+But had she gone, too, in attempting to rescue her
+husband?</p>
+
+<p>For a few minutes Hugo stood there, his great form
+drawn to its full height. His long beard, covered
+with frost, swept his breast. His keen eyes peered out
+from beneath the big fur cap drawn well down over
+ears and forehead. He resembled a patriarch of
+Hebrew days who had stepped suddenly out upon one
+of nature’s mighty stages. The dark, sombre trees
+formed a fitting background to the lonely figure, while
+the valley below and the limitless region beyond made
+a magnificent audience-chamber. But none witnessed
+the silent form upon the hill save, perhaps, a few shy,
+furry creatures of the wild, and ghosts of miners,
+prospectors, trappers and Indians, who once roamed the
+land and made the Yukon River their chief highway
+of travel.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo, however, thought nothing of all this. His
+mind was agitated by conflicting thoughts. He longed
+to be off and away upon the trail, headed for the log
+abode of which he alone knew. But that smokeless
+cabin down by the river fascinated him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>“It’s none of my business,” he growled. “Bill
+Haines is nothing to me, so why should I worry about
+him? And yet, I wonder—”</p>
+
+<p>He ceased abruptly, unslung a rope from his right
+shoulder, and turned swiftly around. At his heels lay
+the small toboggan he had been drawing, loaded with
+a couple of blankets, food, rifle, and a large lynx he
+had taken from one of his snares. He looked at these
+thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then reached for
+his rifle. This he carefully examined to be sure that
+the magazine was full. Picking up the dropped rope,
+he threw it again over his shoulder, and with rifle in
+hand, he sped rapidly down to the valley below. The
+long narrow snow-shoes creaked beneath his powerful
+strides, and the light snow flew from their curved
+points like spray from a cutter’s bow.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching the forest, he threaded his way among the
+trees and came out at length into the open space where
+stood the cabin. Here he stopped and looked carefully
+around. Seeing nothing, he once more advanced, and
+only slowed down when within a few yards from the
+building. He walked warily now, listening intently
+for any sound from within. Hearing nothing, he was
+about to place his ear close to the door when the faint
+wail of a child arrested his attention. Presently the
+cry subsided to a fretful whimper, and then all was
+still.</p>
+
+<p>Feeling certain now that something was seriously
+wrong, Hugo glanced cautiously around. The snow
+near the cabin was beaten down hard, and a well-worn
+trail led to the river. He looked off to the place where
+the vapour was rising into the air, and shuddered.
+Why he did so he could not tell. Then he lifted the
+rude latch, pushed open the door and entered. The sun
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>shining in through the window on the south side of the
+building brightened the room. Hugo recalled the last
+time he had been there, and the pleasant welcome he
+had received. How clean and cosy the place was then,
+notwithstanding the meagre furniture and the bare
+floor. But now what a change! Everything was in
+disorder, the table overturned, the few rough, homemade
+chairs battered to pieces, and broken dishes lying
+on all sides. What did it mean? He stared around,
+greatly puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>“Mam-ma! Mam-ma!”</p>
+
+<p>The call came from a corner on the right. Turning
+quickly toward a bunk against the wall, Hugo saw
+the movement of a gray four-point blanket. Stepping
+forward, he stooped and beheld the face of a little
+child, its cheeks wet with tears. Big blue eyes looked
+expectantly up, and two small dimpled hands reached
+eagerly out, while a gurgle of delight rippled from
+soft, rosy lips. Instantly it realized its mistake. An
+expression of fear leaped into its eyes, the outstretched
+hands dropped, and the happy gurgle gave place to a
+cry of fright. Hugo was in despair.</p>
+
+<p>“Queer mess I’ve got into,” he muttered. “What
+am I to do with the kid? Pity it hadn’t gone with its
+parents. I wonder what has happened to them, anyway?”</p>
+
+<p>He looked around and noted more carefully the sad
+havoc which had been wrought. He was sure now
+that a terrible tragedy had been enacted there, either
+during the night or early that morning. Again he
+shuddered, and realized for the first time how cold was
+the room. In a few minutes he had a good fire burning
+in the sheet-iron heater, which fortunately had
+escaped destruction. Then he searched for some
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>suitable food for the child. But not a scrap could
+he find—every morsel had been taken from the house.
+Hugo uttered an angry oath and registered a solemn
+vow. Going outside he was about to draw his toboggan
+into the room when his eyes caught sight of peculiar
+marks upon the beaten snow. That they were blood-stains
+he was certain, and there were others on the
+trail leading to the river.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the toboggan, and forgetting for a time
+the sobbing child, Hugo walked slowly along, keeping
+his eyes fixed upon the narrow path. At every step
+more stains appeared, which increased in number and
+vividness as he neared the shore. Out upon the ice he
+moved, and stopped only when close to the long, wide,
+yawning gulf. Here the river was exposed to view
+like a great artery from which the flesh has been torn.
+The water raced by like a mill-sluice, leaping forth
+from beneath its icy covering upstream to dash out of
+sight with a swish and a swirl half a mile or more
+farther down. Its murmur resembled the snarl of an
+angry beast when suddenly surprised or cheated of its
+prey. And yet Hugo felt certain that but a short time
+before it had been fed, when two victims had been
+enwrapped in its cold, merciless embrace. And one of
+them was a woman, whose little helpless child was now
+calling to her from the lonely cabin—and calling in
+vain!</p>
+
+<p>And standing there, Hugo’s soul suddenly became
+charged with an intense anger. Mingled with his
+hatred of the river was an overwhelming revulsion at
+the foul crime which had been committed. And who
+were the perpetrators? What reason could anyone
+have for committing such a diabolical deed? Haines
+and his wife were quiet reserved people, given to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>hospitality, who never refused a meal or a lodging for
+the night to a passing traveller. During the summer
+Bill had rocked out gold from the river bars, and in
+winter had cut wood for steamers plying between
+Whitehorse and Dawson. That he made but a bare
+living Hugo was well aware, and he had often wondered
+why he was content to remain in such a lonely place.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo turned these things over in his mind as he
+walked slowly away from the river. Reaching the
+cabin, he drew his toboggan into the building. The
+fire had been doing good work and the room was
+warm. The child, unable to cry more, was lying
+uncovered upon the blankets. It watched Hugo’s every
+movement with wide, unblinking eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t be afraid, little chap,” the man said. “I
+won’t hurt you. I’m going to give you something to
+eat. Maybe that will make you friendly. I wonder
+how old it is, anyway,” he mused. “It can’t eat meat,
+that’s certain. Liquids and soft food are the only
+thing for babies. Now, what in time can I give it!
+Ah, I know. Just the thing.”</p>
+
+<p>He turned and walked over to the toboggan. Throwing
+aside the blankets, he lifted a tin can, blackened
+from numerous campfires. This he placed upon the
+stove, removed the cover and looked in.</p>
+
+<p>“Ptarmigan soup should be good for the little
+fellow,” he remarked. “It’s mighty lucky I didn’t eat
+it all for breakfast. My! it’s hot here.”</p>
+
+<p>He raised his hand as if to remove his fur cap, but
+suddenly desisted. Then he stepped outside and looked
+carefully around. Seeing no one, he went back into
+the cabin, took off his cap, and hung it upon one of the
+legs of the overturned table. The head thus exposed
+was covered with a wealth of hair, thickly streaked
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>with gray. The startling and outstanding feature,
+however, was one lock as white as snow, crowning the
+right temple. This was not due to age nor to any outward
+cause, but was evidently a family characteristic.
+Such a lock would have singled out the owner in any
+gathering for special and curious attention.</p>
+
+<p>When the soup was warm enough, Hugo dipped out
+a portion into a tin cup which he carried over to where
+the child was lying.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, little chap,” he began, “here’s something
+nice.”</p>
+
+<p>Forced by hunger the lad scrambled quickly to its
+knees, and drank eagerly from the cup held to its lips.</p>
+
+<p>“More,” he demanded when the last drop had been
+drained.</p>
+
+<p>“Ho, ho, that’s good!” Hugo chuckled, as he went
+back to the stove and dipped out another helping.
+“There’s nothing like ptarmigan soup for an appetizer.
+I guess, my little man, you’re older than I thought.”</p>
+
+<p>When the child had been fed to its satisfaction,
+Hugo sat down upon the edge of the bunk and gave
+himself up to serious thoughts. What was he to do
+with the boy? That was the question which agitated
+his mind. He could not keep him, that was certain.
+He must hand him over to someone who knew more
+about children than he did. But where could he take
+him? To whom could he turn for assistance? Swift
+Stream was out of the question. Besides being too far
+away it was the last place where he wanted to go. But
+what about Kynox? He did not want to go there,
+either. But it was nearer than Swift Stream, and less
+dangerous. Yes, it must be Kynox, and the sooner he
+got there the better.</p>
+
+<p>He was staring straight before him as he thus made
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>up his mind. His eyes were fixed upon the rough whip-sawn
+planks which formed the floor. But he did not
+see anything in particular there. His thoughts were
+far away, so the cabin and all that it contained were
+for the time forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>At length he became partially aware of a peculiar
+glitter upon the floor. The sun shining through the
+little window struck for a few minutes upon the spot
+where his eyes were resting. Gradually his interest
+became aroused. Something was there which caused
+that intense sparkle. Perhaps it was only a portion of
+a broken dish which had caught the sun’s ray. But,
+no, it could not be. A piece of ordinary cup, saucer,
+or plate could not throw such a wonderful light. It
+was a sparkle such as he had once seen flashing from
+a jewelled finger of a woman of great wealth. He had
+never beheld the like since until now. Only one thing
+he knew could produce such a radiant effect.</p>
+
+<p>Slipping from the bunk, he stepped quickly forward,
+dropped upon his knees, and peered keenly down. What
+he saw there caused him to reach swiftly out, seize and
+draw forth something wedged in a narrow crack between
+two of the floor planks. As he clutched this
+with the fingers of his trembling right hand, an exclamation
+of surprise burst from his lips.</p>
+
+<p>It was a woman’s diamond ring!</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 2<br>
+<small>A Night Vision</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">FOR several minutes Hugo knelt there holding the
+ring in his right hand. It was a delicate circlet,
+a fragile wisp of gold to contain such an exquisite gem.
+What fair finger had it adorned? What eyes, looking
+down upon it, had rivalled its sparkling beauty? What
+comely cheeks had flushed in the joy of its possession?
+He felt sure that Mrs. Haines had not worn it. What
+use would such an ornament have been to her in that
+rude cabin? At any rate, he had never seen it upon
+her finger. Her hands, he had noted, were rough and
+toil-worn. But had she once worn it? Was it a
+precious keepsake, a memento of other and happier
+days? Had it in any way figured in the terrible
+tragedy which had so recently taken place? Why was
+it wedged in the crack between those two planks? Why
+had it not been broken and crushed in the terrible
+struggle that had ensued?</p>
+
+<p>These were some of the thoughts which surged
+through Hugo’s mind as he stared hard at the ring.
+The value of the diamond he did not know. That it
+was no ordinary stone he felt certain. How it gleamed
+and sparkled as he held it to the sun. He turned it
+over and over in his fingers. He was gradually becoming
+its slave. Its beauty was fascinating him; its
+radiance was dazzling him.</p>
+
+<p>A sound from the bunk startled him. He glanced
+quickly and guiltily around like one caught in a criminal
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>deed. But it was only the child, chuckling as it tried
+to grasp a narrow beam of sunshine which fell athwart
+the blankets. With lightning rapidity Hugo thrust
+the ring into an inside pocket of his jacket and sprang
+to his feet. He stepped swiftly to the side of the bunk
+and glared down upon the child. Then a harsh, mirthless
+laugh burst from his lips. The perspiration stood
+out in beads upon his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>“Hugo, you’re a fool,” he growled. “What has
+come over you, anyway? No more such nonsense.”</p>
+
+<p>He went to the door, opened it and looked out. The
+air cooled his hot brow. He felt better, and more like
+himself. He was anxious now to get away from that
+cabin. It was not good for him to be there—with the
+ring and the child. The place was polluted. Innocent
+blood had been shed in that room, and who could tell
+what might happen should he stay much longer? He
+had always scoffed at the idea of ghosts. But he did
+not wish to remain in that building overnight. He had
+a peculiar creeping sensation whenever he thought of
+it. He was not afraid of travellers who might call in
+passing. But he did have great respect for the Mounted
+Police, the redoubtable guardians of the north, the
+sleuth-hounds of the trails. Should they suddenly appear,
+he might find the situation most embarrassing.
+Alone with the child, and with the marks of a tragedy
+so evident, he might have difficulty in convincing them
+of his innocency in the affair. And should the ring be
+discovered upon his person, his position would be far
+from enviable.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo’s greatest fear, however, was of himself. He
+could not explain the reason, but so long as he remained
+in that cabin he could not feel responsible for his acts.
+A subtle influence seemed to pervade the place which
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>exerted upon him a magic effect. He had never experienced
+the like before. He must get away at once. Out
+upon the trail, battling against stern nature, he would
+surely regain his former self-mastery.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo was not long in getting ready for his departure.
+He wrapped up the baby in a big fur-lined
+coat he found hanging on the wall. He hesitated when
+he realised that it was necessary to cast aside the lynx
+to make room for the lad upon the small toboggan.
+The pelt of the animal was valuable, but he could not
+afford to take the time to remove it. In fact, the lynx
+was of more use to him than the child. One he could
+sell for good money, while the other—well, he would
+be fortunate if he could give him away.</p>
+
+<p>He thought of this as he tucked in the wee fellow,
+placing extra blankets about him to make sure that he
+would not be cold. According to the law of the country
+he was entitled to all the rights and privileges of
+the British Constitution. To take his life would be an
+indictable offense, and the punishment death if found
+out. But he could not be sold for money, and who
+would want him? Outside, someone might adopt him,
+or he could be placed in an Orphans’ Home. But here
+on the frontier of civilisation who would wish to be
+bothered with such a helpless waif? The life of the
+lynx, on the other hand, was worth nothing in the eyes
+of the law. Any one could take it with impunity. But
+the animal could be sold for a fair price. What a
+paradox! A dead lynx worth more than a priceless
+child!</p>
+
+<p>Hugo sighed as he picked up his rifle and drew the
+cord of the toboggan over his shoulder. It was a
+problem too profound for him to solve. Others would
+have to attend to that, if they so desired, while he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>looked after the baby. Closing the cabin door, and
+turning his back upon the river, he headed for the
+uplands. Although he had no watch, yet he knew that
+it was past midday. The afternoon would be all too
+short, so he must make the most of it. Kynox was
+over thirty miles away, and a hard trail lay between.
+Under ordinary circumstances he could make the
+journey by a long day’s march. But now he would be
+forced to travel slower and more carefully, and to
+halt at times to feed the child.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo made his way along the trail down which he
+had sped a few hours before. Reaching the brow of
+the hill, he paused and looked back upon the cabin. It
+had a new meaning to him now. How grim and
+desolate it seemed. It was a building stained with
+human blood. Never again would it breathe forth its
+warm and inviting welcome to weary travellers. Soon
+word of the tragedy would be noised abroad. It would
+pass from man to man. In towns and villages, in miners’
+shacks, in Indian lodges, in wood-cutters’ cabins,
+and in most remote recesses it would penetrate, to be
+discussed with burning indignation and heart-thrilling
+interest. The Mounted Police would arouse to swift
+and terrible action. They would throw out their nets;
+they would scour the trails; they would compass the
+world, if necessary, to bring the criminals to justice.
+They had done it before; they would do it again. No
+one yet had escaped their long and overwhelming grip.</p>
+
+<p>And what of the little cabin? It would be shunned,
+looked upon with dread, a haunted abode. Oh, yes,
+Hugo was well aware how it would be. He knew of
+several such places scattered over the country, once the
+centres of life and activity, but now abandoned by the
+foot of man, white and Indian alike.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>As he stood and rested, thinking of these things,
+something upon the river attracted his attention. At
+first it appeared as a mere speck, but it was moving.
+With breathless interest he strained his eyes across the
+snowy waste. He knew what it was—a dog-team!
+Was it the Police patrol? He shrank instinctively back,
+and unconsciously raised his right hand as if to ward
+off some impending danger. A low growl, almost like
+a curse, rumbled in his throat, as he turned and once
+more continued his journey.</p>
+
+<p>His course now led inland, and in a few minutes the
+river was lost to view. The trail for a time wound
+through a forest of young firs and jack-pines, whose
+slender branches reached out like welcoming hands. He
+felt at home here and breathed more freely. Then the
+way sloped to a valley, and up a long wild meadow.</p>
+
+<p>It was a magnificent region through which he was
+travelling. To the right rose great mountains, terrace
+above terrace, and terminating in majestic summits far
+beyond the timber-line. These, however, were surpassed
+by one towering peak far away in the distance.
+For years it had been his special guide. Others might
+be lost to view, but not the Golden Horn. It formed
+the subject of considerable speculation among miners,
+prospectors, and trappers. Its summit had never been
+reached. But daring adventurers who had scaled
+beyond the timber-line, solemnly affirmed that it was
+the real Mount Ararat. Embedded in everlasting snow
+and ice they had seen the timbers of a vessel of huge
+size and marvellous design, which they declared to be
+the ruins of Noah’s ark.</p>
+
+<p>Others believed that in that massive pile would be
+found a great mother-lode of precious gold. Its commanding
+peak, which from certain points of view resembled
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>a gigantic horn, caught and reflected the brief
+winter sun in a glow of golden glory. To eager eyes
+and hopeful hearts this was surely an outward sign of
+vast treasures within. But so far it had only served as
+a landmark, a gleaming guide to hardy rovers of the
+trails.</p>
+
+<p>With the Golden Horn ever before him, Hugo
+pressed steadily onward. At times he glanced anxiously
+back, especially after he had crossed a lake or a wild
+meadow where the view of the trail was unobstructed.
+Seeing no one following, he always breathed a sigh of
+relief, and hurried on his way.</p>
+
+<p>Darkness had already settled over the land when
+Hugo drew up at a little shack crouching in a dense
+thicket of firs and pines. This was one of his stopping-places
+in the large circle of his trapping region. The
+single room contained a bunk, a sheet-iron heater, a
+rough table, a block of wood for a seat, and a few
+traps. This abode was far from the main line of
+travel, and no head but the owner’s had ever bent to
+pass its low portal.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo paid careful attention to the child, looking
+after its welfare to the best of his knowledge. It had
+been remarkably good during the afternoon, and before
+it fell asleep upon the bunk it showed its friendliness
+to its rescuer by chuckling gleefully, holding out its
+hands, and kicking its feet in a lively manner.</p>
+
+<p>For the first time in years Hugo’s stern face relaxed.
+His eyes, hard and defiant, assumed a softer expression.
+All unconsciously the helpless child was exerting
+upon him a subtle influence; it was casting about him
+a magic spell, and breathing into the coldness of his
+heart a warm, stimulating glow.</p>
+
+<p>And when the little lad at length slept, Hugo sat by
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>its side, gazing straight before him, silent and unseeing.
+Occasionally he aroused to replenish the fire, to
+snuff the single candle, to open the door to peer into
+the night, and to listen for sounds which did not come.
+He would then return to the bunk, to continue his watch
+and meditation.</p>
+
+<p>About midnight he wrapped himself up in a thick
+blanket, stretched himself upon the floor near the
+heater, and in a few minutes was fast asleep. He awoke
+with a start, and sat bolt upright. He looked toward
+the bunk, and something there held him spellbound.
+The child, gently whimpering, was surrounded by a
+soft, peculiar light such as he had never seen before.
+Hugo wondered at this, for the candle was out and it
+was not yet daylight. As he stared, striving to comprehend
+the meaning, he saw the dim form of a woman
+bending tenderly over the child, her hands touching the
+little face. An involuntary gasp of surprise escaped
+his lips, and he rubbed his eyes to be sure that he was
+not dreaming. When he looked again all was in darkness.
+The vision had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Rising quickly to his feet, Hugo struck a match and
+lighted the candle. His hands trembled as he did so,
+and his knees seemed unusually weak. He glanced
+furtively around the room as if expecting to see someone
+standing near. Then he went to the bunk and
+looked down upon the child. It was asleep! This was
+a surprise, for Hugo was certain that he had heard its
+whimper but a couple of minutes before. What did it
+all mean? Was it a dream from which he had been
+suddenly aroused: or had the mother really been bending
+over her child, and for a few fleeting seconds was
+revealed to mortal eyes? He had heard of such apparitions,
+but had always considered them as mere delusions,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>the fanciful imagination of overwrought brains.
+Now, however, it was different. He had seen with his
+own eyes that form bending over the bunk, surrounded
+by a halo of no earthly light. Was it the child’s mother?
+But perhaps it was an angel! At once there flashed
+into his mind the words of the Master over which he
+had often meditated.</p>
+
+<p>“Take heed that ye despise not one of these little
+ones, for I say unto you that in heaven their angels do
+always behold the face of my Father which is in
+heaven.”</p>
+
+<p>Little children, then, had angel guardians, so, perhaps,
+he had unwittingly surprised one this night in its
+ministry of love. Hugo was deeply impressed. A
+feeling such as he had not known for years stole into
+his heart. The room seemed suddenly transfigured. It
+was no longer a humble abode, but the dwelling-place
+of a celestial messenger. And the child was the cause
+of it all. For its sake the courts of heaven had been
+stirred, and swifter than light an angel had winged its
+way to that lone shack in the heart of the northern
+wilderness. It may have been hovering around that
+cabin near the river at the time of the tragedy. What
+part had it taken in protecting the child? It was
+wonderful, and Hugo’s heart beat fast as these thoughts
+swept through his mind. Had the angel guided his
+steps to that smokeless cabin? He recalled how he had
+been on the point of taking another route that morning,
+but had suddenly changed his mind and gone to
+the river instead. Why he did so he could not tell, as
+he had never done the like before. But now he understood.
+It was the angel which had altered his course!</p>
+
+<p>Hugo’s mind dwelt continually upon this as he
+stirred up the fire and prepared his breakfast. He made
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>the tea exceptionally strong to soothe his nerves. After
+he had eaten his meagre meal, he filled and lighted his
+pipe. He then smoked and watched as the slow-footed
+hours dragged wearily by. He was anxious to be away
+upon his journey, but he did not wish to awaken the
+child.</p>
+
+<p>Once he thrust his right hand into the inside pocket
+of his jacket and brought forth the ring. The diamond
+still fascinated him, though not as formerly. He was
+master of himself now, and could examine the precious
+gem more calmly. Its possession gave him a thrill of
+pleasure, even though he knew that it was not his.
+What would he do with it? An idea flashed into his
+mind, which caused him to glance toward the child.</p>
+
+<p>“No, not now,” he mused. “I must wait. It might
+get into wrong hands.”</p>
+
+<p>This decision seemed to satisfy him, so he replaced
+the ring, and continued his watch.</p>
+
+<p>The dawn of a new day was stealing slowly over the
+land as Hugo resumed his journey. At noon he halted
+to feed the child, and to eat his own meal. Then up
+and on again through the short afternoon. He thought
+much of what had occurred during the night, and the
+vision he had beheld inspired him. His step was firmer
+and more decided than on the previous day. The coldness
+did not seem so intense, and the Golden Horn appeared
+to take on a brighter glow. When darkness
+enshrouded the land he again halted to feed the baby.
+This took but a short time, and once more he sped forward.
+Kynox was not far away, and he wished to
+make it that night.</p>
+
+<p>Hour after hour he moved onward, though slower
+now, for the trail was heavy and he was becoming very
+weary. No longer did the Golden Horn direct his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>course. But he had the north star to guide him. The
+Northern Lights were throwing out their long glittering
+streamers. They appeared like vast battalions
+marching and countermarching across the Arctic sky.
+Their banners rose, faded, vanished; to reappear,
+writhing, twisting, curling, and flashing forth in matchless
+beauty all the colors of the rainbow. Yellow and
+green, green and yellow, ruby-red and greenish-white,
+chasing one another, vying with one another as the
+great, silent army incessantly retreated and advanced.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo saw all this, and it never failed to arouse in
+him a feeling of wonder and awe. He watched the
+stars, too. For years they had been his steady companions
+on many a weary trail, and he read them like
+an open book. He saw the belted Orion swinging in
+its usual place, and the Great Bear dipping close to the
+horizon. He knew the time by the figures on that vast
+dial overhead. He peered keenly forward now, and at
+length he was rewarded by several faint lights glimmering
+through the darkness. Kynox was just beyond.
+In a few minutes the outlines of a number of buildings
+could be dimly discerned. These increased in clearness
+as he advanced. Ere long one larger than the others
+loomed up before him. He knew it well, and toward
+it he eagerly made his way.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 3<br>
+<small>The Tell-Tale Lock</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THE hour of midnight had just struck as Marion
+Brisbane opened a side door of the Kynox Hospital
+and entered. Her cheeks were flushed, and her
+eyes shone with animation. It was her night off duty,
+and she had enjoyed herself at Mrs. Beck’s, the wife
+of the mining recorder. A few congenial friends had
+been invited, and most of the evening had been spent
+at bridge-whist. While refreshments were being
+served, Miss Risteen, the new teacher of the little
+school, had asked Marion why she had come so far
+north.</p>
+
+<p>“For adventure, I suppose,” had been the smiling
+and evasive reply.</p>
+
+<p>“Have you found it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! in a small hospital?”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly. It is there that we see so much of the
+tragedy of this country. Numerous trails lead into
+Kynox from various mining camps. You have no idea
+how many patients we receive during the year, though
+now we have only a few.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I mean adventure in the open,” Miss Risteen
+had explained.</p>
+
+<p>“Not much yet. But I have gone several times to
+outlying creeks to administer first-aid to injured men
+during the doctor’s absence. He has been away for a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>week now, so I never know when an urgent call may
+come.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you always go yourself?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, always.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion had then abruptly changed the subject, as
+she did not wish to be questioned further. Her friends
+had more than once remonstrated with her about her
+readiness and eagerness to go whenever a call came.
+They had urged her to let the other nurses bear their
+share of the hardships which such trips involved. But
+Marion had merely smiled, saying that she was selfish
+and enjoyed going to the camps. Not even to her
+nearest friends would she reveal the deep secret of her
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>That which gave her the greatest pleasure, however,
+was a letter which Mr. Beck had handed to her during
+the evening. It had been given to him by a miner that
+afternoon who had come in from the outer trails to
+record a claim. At the first glance Marion knew whom
+it was from, and it was this which caused the flush
+upon her face and the light of joy in her eyes as she
+entered the hospital. She was anxious to reach her
+own room where she could read the letter to her heart’s
+content.</p>
+
+<p>She had just closed and locked the door, when the
+night nurses appeared.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Miss Brisbane,” the latter began, “we have had
+a lively time since you left.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing wrong, Miss Wade, I hope,” Marion
+somewhat anxiously replied.</p>
+
+<p>“That remains to be seen. About ten o’clock an old
+man, with a great flowing beard, brought in a little
+child.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sick?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>“No, nothing the matter with it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why did he bring it here, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“For us to keep. He has given it to us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Given it to us!” Marion stared at the nurse in
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“That is what he said,” and Miss Wade smiled.
+“Why, he made himself at home here, and took possession
+at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mean to tell me that he is here now?”
+Marion demanded.</p>
+
+<p>“He certainly is, and with all of his belongings. He
+has taken up his abode in the kitchen, and is asleep on
+the floor, wrapped up in his blankets. He has his
+toboggan there, too. Just think of that!”</p>
+
+<p>“But why didn’t you send him away?”</p>
+
+<p>“He wouldn’t go. I told him we couldn’t keep him;
+that this was a hospital, and not a hotel. But it didn’t
+make any difference. He said that this was good
+enough for him.”</p>
+
+<p>“What impudence! Why didn’t you send for me?
+Mr. Beck and the other men would have come over
+and put the man out.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I didn’t want to bother you. And besides, he
+seemed so harmless. He just wanted the kitchen, so
+I couldn’t very well object.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where is the baby?” Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Asleep in my room. I gave it a bath, which it
+certainly needed, and something to eat. He is a dear
+little fellow, and I am fond of him already.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is the man, anyway? Did he tell you anything
+about himself, or where he came from?”</p>
+
+<p>“He only said that he found the child in a cabin
+along the river about a mile from the C. D. Cut-Off.
+He would tell me nothing more.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>“Then the baby is not his,” Marion said. “It is
+strange that he should bring it here. I wonder why
+he didn’t take it to Swift Stream.”</p>
+
+<p>“I asked him that,” Miss Wade replied, “but he told
+me he wasn’t travelling that way. He is certainly an
+odd man, a giant in stature, and with wonderful eyes
+which seem to look right through one. He kept his
+cap on all the time, pulled down over his ears, even
+though the kitchen was very warm. I believe he went
+to sleep with it on. Suppose you have a look at him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very well,” Marion agreed. “I am somewhat anxious
+to see our strange guest.”</p>
+
+<p>Together they passed out of the room into the hallway,
+and made their way to the door leading into the
+kitchen. This was closed, but Miss Wade softly
+opened it and peeked in.</p>
+
+<p>“There he is,” she whispered. “He’s sound asleep.”</p>
+
+<p>A lamp, partly turned down, emitted sufficient light
+for Marion to see the covered form lying upon the
+floor, with the toboggan nearby.</p>
+
+<p>“He’s got his cap on, all right,” Miss Wade again
+whispered, suppressing with difficulty a giggle of
+amusement. “Isn’t it funny? He must use it for a
+night-cap.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion motioned her to be silent, as she closed the
+door and led the way back along the hallway. She,
+too, saw the humor of the situation, although as matron
+she had to maintain the dignity of her position.</p>
+
+<p>After she had taken a look at the baby which was
+sleeping soundly, she went to her own room. Here
+she opened the letter she had been carrying in her hand,
+and ran her eyes rapidly over the contents.</p>
+
+<p>“Dear Miss Brisbane,” it began.</p>
+
+<p>“I am on my way to Lone Creek to bring in Scotty
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>Ferguson, who met with an accident. Please have a
+room ready for him. Constable Rolfe is with me.
+We should reach Kynox at the end of this week. I am
+sending this note by Joe Dart, who is going to town
+to record a claim.</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="indentright3">“Hoping to see you soon,</span><br>
+<span class="indentright2">“Very sincerely yours,</span><br>
+<span class="indentright">“<span class="smcap">John North</span>,</span><br>
+  “<i>Sergeant, R. N. M. P.</i>”</p>
+
+<p>That was all the letter contained in mere words, yet
+to Marion it meant a great deal more. She saw the
+writer, the strong, manly sergeant, who had made such
+a deep impression upon her. She recalled the last time
+he had been at Kynox when he had brought in a sick
+miner from an outlying creek. She had heard much
+about John North, the great trailsman and the fearless
+defender of law and order. Many were the tales told
+of his prowess to which Marion always listened with
+keen interest and a quickening of the heart. To her
+he was the very embodiment of the ideal hero, and one
+with King Arthur’s Knights of the Table Round. He
+was ever moving from place to place, bringing relief
+to the afflicted and redressing human wrongs. What a
+difference between this man and many of the men she
+had met. He was not in the country for gain, but in
+the noble service of his King and country. Her mind
+suddenly turned to the strange, long-bearded man
+asleep on the kitchen floor. What a contrast between
+him and John North. Who was he? she wondered,
+and where had he found the child? She thought, too,
+of his oddity in wearing his cap all the time. Was
+there some reason for this? Did it cover some scar or
+other disfigurement?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>As she asked herself these questions, an idea flashed
+into her mind which caused the blood to fade from her
+cheeks and her hands to tremble. She tried to banish
+the notion as she replaced the letter into its envelope
+and laid it upon a small table by her bed. But the idea
+would persist in returning until she could no longer
+resist its appeal.</p>
+
+<p>For the space of a half-hour she debated with herself
+as to what she should do. Perhaps it would be better
+to wait until morning before seeing the man again.
+This, however, did not satisfy her. Several times she
+started to open the door, but each time drew back,
+uncertain and agitated. She was no coward, yet the
+thought of what might be revealed unnerved her.
+Nevertheless, she knew that the ordeal must be faced
+sooner or later. For that she had come north, and
+with one object in view she had visited numerous
+creeks and mining camps. But never before had such
+a nameless dread overwhelmed her. She had searched
+eagerly, and hopefully, studying with the closest scrutiny
+the one face which would reward all her efforts.</p>
+
+<p>At length feeling that she could delay no longer, she
+left her room, and sped along the hallway. She felt
+guilty, almost like a thief, as she pushed open the
+kitchen door and looked in. The man was evidently
+sound asleep, for he was lying in the same position as
+when she first saw him. Creeping close to his side,
+she stooped and listened. Yes, he was asleep and
+breathing heavily. Reaching swiftly out, she lifted the
+peak of his cap, and at once the white lock of hair was
+exposed to view. Marion had seen enough. She
+turned and fled out of the kitchen, along the hall, and
+back to the shelter of her room. Here she stood, wide-eyed
+and panting like a hunted creature. She had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>reached the end of her quest. That for which she had
+been seeking she had found. But what a bitter disappointment!
+How she had looked forward to such a
+moment. It had arrived, passed, and she was left helpless,
+bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>Sinking down upon the only chair the room contained,
+she endeavored to compose her mind that she
+might view the affair in as clear a light as possible.
+That the man lying in the kitchen was her father she
+had not the slightest doubt. That white lock of hair
+betrayed him, if nothing else. It was a family characteristic,
+and she alone of several generations had
+escaped the distinctive mark. How proud the Brisbanes
+had always been of their peculiar feature, and
+when no trace of it appeared in Marion’s luxuriant
+hair they had been greatly disappointed. The “Brisbane
+lock” was a common expression. It had its
+origin, so it was believed, in a great battle. A Brisbane
+in defending his King had received a sword cut on his
+forehead which left a gaping wound. When this
+healed, instead of an unsightly scar, the hair came out
+as white as snow. For years after that lock was a sign
+of royal favor, and a white lock formed the important
+feature of the family coat-of-arms. “Remember the
+Brisbane lock,” parents had admonished their children
+through many generations. It had always been to them
+a standard, a sign of almost divine favor. They had
+tried to live up to the ideal set by their worthy ancestor
+on the field of battle. Through all the years only one
+Brisbane had brought reproach upon the name and the
+lock. And that man had fled from home and justice,
+a wretched outcast.</p>
+
+<p>Marion was but a girl of twelve at that time, and
+she loved her father with all the ardor of her passionate
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>nature. Nothing could make her believe the charge
+of forgery which was preferred against him. There
+had been some mistake, she was certain, and he had
+been basely wronged. Some day he would be proven
+innocent, the guilty ones exposed, and the Brisbane
+name cleared of infamy. Her mother believed the
+same, and thus through the years the two waited in
+patient hope. But they waited in vain. The exile did
+not return, so his deed remained a part of the history
+of the little town, and a blot upon the family escutcheon.</p>
+
+<p>Ten years passed and no word from the absent one
+reached the mother and daughter. They knew, however,
+that he must be alive, for regularly twice a year
+money reached them through a local bank. It was a
+liberal amount, deposited to their credit, although the
+circumstances surrounding it were not divulged. But
+they were certain who sent it, and it was a steady
+reminder to them that he was in the land of the living
+and might one day return. Mrs. Brisbane cherished
+this hope until the last, and ere she died she expressed
+the wish that Marion should search diligently for her
+father. This the girl willingly agreed to do, for the
+idea had been lodging in her own mind for some time.</p>
+
+<p>In order to carry out her design, Marion became a
+nurse. The west called to her, for she firmly believed
+that there her father had gone. After practising for
+two years in a city on the Pacific coast, she responded
+to an appeal from the far north. The new hospital
+at Kynox was in need of nurses, and she was at once
+placed in charge. It was a position of considerable
+responsibility, but she fulfilled her duties in a highly
+creditable manner. Her charming disposition, and her
+readiness to sacrifice herself for others, won all hearts.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>Old miners and prospectors, especially, appealed to her,
+for she was always hopeful that among them she would
+find her father. How eagerly her eyes searched every
+new face she met, and sought for the tell-tale lock.
+Men noted this earnest look, and often commented
+upon it among themselves. To them Nurse Marion
+was an angel of mercy, and even the roughest among
+them always spoke of her with the greatest respect.</p>
+
+<p>Marion enjoyed her work and life in the northland.
+But never for a moment did she lose sight of her great
+quest. At times she almost despaired of ever finding
+her father. It was a vast land, and she was able to
+meet but a few of the miners and prospectors. How
+could she ever find the one for whom she was so eagerly
+seeking?</p>
+
+<p>The image that Marion had kept in her mind of her
+father was a beautiful one. She remembered him as a
+man of fine appearance, of more than ordinary stature,
+with a strong, noble face. How proud she had always,
+been when walking by his side, for then Thomas Brisbane
+was the leading citizen of Garthroy. She expected
+to find him the same years later. She was,
+therefore, totally unprepared to see her father in the
+long-bearded, and unkempt creature, content with the
+kitchen floor for his bed. What would her two assistant
+nurses think should she divulge the secret? And
+the people of Kynox—for there was a social clique
+even in this wilderness town—what would they say?</p>
+
+<p>Hour after hour Marion battled with her doubts
+and fears. The night seemed unbearably long, and yet
+she dreaded for morning to come. Something then
+would have to be done. Should she let her father go
+without telling him who she was? And if she did tell,
+how would he receive the news? Would he rejoice in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>meeting his daughter again? or would he flee from her
+presence? Her brain was in a whirl, and she walked
+up and down her little room, torn by conflicting emotions.</p>
+
+<p>Toward morning a desire came to her to go to her
+father and speak to him. If there should be an embarrassing
+scene it would be better to be with him
+alone than to have other nurses around. Her courage
+almost failed her as she left her room and hurried once
+more along the hallway. She was glad that the night
+nurse was nowhere in sight, as she did not wish to meet
+her just then. Reaching the kitchen door, she pushed
+it open and looked in. She started and glanced around
+the room. There was no one there. Her father was
+gone!</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 4<br>
+<small>To Be Continued</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">FOR two days Marion Brisbane lived in a world of
+doubt and uncertainty. She was in a quandary.
+She had found her father, only to lose him again.
+Should she go in search of him? But where would she
+go? How could she find him? To whom could she
+turn for advice and help? How could she explain the
+reason of her search without telling who the man really
+was? And this she did not wish to do, for the present,
+at least. This problem agitated her mind as she went
+mechanically about her work. The child had been taken
+by a man and his wife who had no children of their
+own, and were strongly drawn to the little waif of the
+night.</p>
+
+<p>When the story of the old man’s visit to the hospital
+and his sudden disappearance leaked out, it caused much
+comment in Kynox. Several surmised that it was
+Hugo, the wanderer of the trails, the peculiar trapper
+about whom they had heard much, although few had
+ever seen him. From the earliest days mystery has
+always delighted the human mind. Strange characters,
+noted for their peculiar ways, and endowed with great
+strength, have ever made special appeal. They give a
+spice, a thrill to life, and remove some of its monotonous
+drabness. No race, no age, has ever lacked
+some mysterious being about whom many legendary
+tales gather. This was true in a way of Hugo, the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>trapper. Where he had come from no one knew. He
+had no settled abode, being in one place to-day and
+miles away on the morrow. He had been known to
+appear suddenly at some mining camp with an injured
+prospector and vanish again into the wilderness. He
+was as elusive as a shadow, and just as intangible. He
+was terrible in a fight, so it was asserted, and he was
+the only creature of which the grizzlies, the dread of
+the trails, were afraid. His latest act in bringing in
+the little child stirred up afresh the numerous stories
+concerning his mysterious life.</p>
+
+<p>Marion had heard some of these tales before, but
+had taken no special interest in them until now. She
+had concluded that the trapper was some great uncouth
+creature, half man and half beast by nature, who had
+lived most of his life in the wilderness. But never for
+an instant had he meant anything to her. That such a
+being could be the one for whom she was so anxiously
+seeking was beyond the bounds of her wildest imagination.
+Now she knew, and she listened with fast-beating
+heart to every scrap of information concerning the
+trapper. She concealed her feelings as much as possible,
+although when alone in her own room she would
+pace excitedly to and fro, her mind rent by wild, conflicting
+emotions. That she must see him again was
+the burden of her thoughts. To find him she had come
+north, and she must not give up until she had accomplished
+her purpose.</p>
+
+<p>The second evening after Hugo’s arrival a startling
+story drifted into Kynox from Swift Stream. It told
+of the murder of Bill Haines, his wife, and little child
+near the C. D. Cut-Off. Two miners on their way
+down river had stopped at the cabin, found signs of a
+fierce struggle, and marks of blood leading to the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>river. They had reported the affair to the Mounted
+Police at the first station they reached, so the news
+was at once flashed to headquarters at Swift Stream,
+over the single wire running from Ashcroft to Dawson.</p>
+
+<p>This was most disturbing news to the people of
+Kynox, and their thoughts naturally turned to the
+little child which had been brought to the hospital by
+Hugo, the trapper. Did the latter know anything
+about the murder? they asked one another. What
+was he doing with the child? and why had he left so
+mysteriously in the night? It was very strange and
+suspicious, they reasoned, that he had reported nothing,
+and had given no word of explanation. It was
+surely the Haines’ child he had brought to Kynox, so
+he must know something about the terrible affair near
+the Cut-Off.</p>
+
+<p>Marion was now more disturbed than ever. Outwardly
+she was very calm as she answered the numerous
+questions about the night visitors. She merely
+related what the night nurse had told her, and made
+no mention of her own first secret visit to the kitchen.
+She was determined not to divulge that. But fearful
+thoughts would persist in forcing themselves into her
+mind. Had her father committed that terrible deed?
+Anyway, if he knew anything about it why had he not
+reported at once? Her father a murderer! The idea
+was almost unbearable. She could not believe it. No
+Brisbane would ever descend to such depths. But her
+father would be suspected. The Police would hear
+about his visit to the hospital with the child, and of
+his sudden departure in the night. They would track
+him, find him, and bring him to trial. Would he be
+able to clear himself? to prove that he was innocent?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>Marion thought of all this and a great deal more
+during the rest of the week. She found it difficult to
+sleep, for she would awake in the middle of the night
+overwhelmed with a presentiment of impending disaster.
+Saturday came, and also Sergeant John North.
+He and Rolfe brought the injured miner to the hospital,
+and when the constable had left, North remained.
+Marion thought that he had never looked so handsome
+as when he stood before her that afternoon, clad just
+as he had come from the trail. He was a noble specimen
+of a man, well-built, and over six feet in height.
+His face, bronzed and weather-beaten, was strong, and
+his mouth and chin firm. His face was smooth-shaven,
+for Sergeant North was careful of his personal
+appearance, particularly so whenever he visited
+Kynox. His eyes, grey and steady, were never known
+to flinch from danger. When they glowed with anger
+or indignation, as they did on special occasions, their
+owner was a man to be feared. But now they shone
+with a tender expression as they rested upon Marion
+Brisbane’s slightly flushed face.</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant North was a reserved man, and little accustomed
+to the company of women. Years on the frontiers
+of civilization had brought him into contact with
+many stern realities of life. Surrounded by the ruggedness
+and the grandeur of nature in every possible
+form, he had gradually and unconsciously become
+moulded by its mystic influence. The ways of polite
+society were to him a closed book, and the petty social
+chatter made no appeal. He loved the open, the great
+spaces, and the winding trails. The iron of the land
+had entered into his being, and the silent, mysterious
+alchemy of the north affected his soul like magic.
+Combined with all these subtle influences was the law
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>of the Force he served. It was Duty first and last.
+“Maintien le Droit” was the motto of this wonderful
+body of men, and the code written in the little red manual
+was stern and stripped of all useless verbiage. It
+told without a shadow of a doubt what was expected,
+and the instructions were to be followed to the letter.
+This suited Sergeant North. He loved the life, and
+never once had he swerved one hair’s breadth from the
+strict line of duty.</p>
+
+<p>His was not an impressionable nature, and he was
+always shy in the presence of women. But when Marion
+Brisbane crossed his path it was altogether different.
+She inspired him with confidence, his shyness
+vanished, and he could talk freely. Out upon the trails
+a vision of her was ever before him, and he always
+counted the days until he could see her again. So
+standing before her this afternoon in the hospital, he
+feasted his soul upon her face, lips, eyes, and hair.
+He did not want to talk; it was heaven enough to be
+near her, and to revel in her beauty. Whatever Sergeant
+North did it was with his whole might. He
+threw himself unreservedly into every undertaking.
+He was a hard trailsman, a stern fighter, when fighting
+was necessary, and now for the first time in his
+life he was a great lover.</p>
+
+<p>Marion’s eyes dropped beneath North’s ardent gaze,
+and she became somewhat embarrassed. Neither
+spoke, and for a few seconds intense silence reigned.
+Then they both smiled and the tension was broken.</p>
+
+<p>“Forgive me for keeping you standing,” Marion
+apologized. “It is very stupid of me. Come in here,”
+and she opened a door on her right.</p>
+
+<p>“I have not long to stay,” North explained, as he
+followed her into the little sitting-room, and seated
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>himself in a comfortable chair which Marion offered.
+“There is very serious business ahead. You know to
+what I refer.”</p>
+
+<p>“You mean the murder near the C. D. Cut-Off, I
+suppose,” Marion replied as she seated herself near the
+window. “I have heard of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you had a visit from Hugo, the trapper, I
+understand.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes. He brought a little child here one night.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where is the child now?”</p>
+
+<p>“With Mr. and Mrs. Parker. They have taken it as
+their own, and are very fond of it.”</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant North gazed thoughtfully out of the window
+for a few seconds. He was really looking at the
+peak of the Golden Horn far away in the distance,
+although he saw it not. His mind was upon more
+important things.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you certain that it was Hugo, the trapper, who
+brought that child here?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“No, I am not,” Marion emphatically replied, “but
+it is the general opinion in Kynox that he is the man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did he wear his cap while he was in the hospital?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, even when he was asleep on the kitchen floor.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then it was Hugo, all right; I never saw him without
+his cap.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why does he always wear it?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do not know.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion’s hands were clasped upon her lap, and although
+her eyes were downcast she knew that the sergeant
+was looking intently upon her face. The next
+instant he had reached out and caught both of her
+hands in his. With a slight cry of surprise, Marion
+tried to free her hands, but the sergeant held them
+firm.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>“Don’t, don’t,” she gasped as she struggled to her
+feet. “You must not do that; it isn’t right.”</p>
+
+<p>“Love makes it right,” North replied, as he also
+rose. “Marion, I love you, and I want you to know
+it. I am a man of few words, and not used to love-making
+language. But I must tell you. I cannot restrain
+myself any longer.”</p>
+
+<p>He ceased, drew her to him, and his lips met hers.
+No longer did Marion contend, for a happiness such
+as she had never known swept over her. She felt
+North’s strong arms about her, holding her close.
+Neither spoke. It was enough that they were together,
+so words were unnecessary.</p>
+
+<p>Gently at length Marion freed herself from her
+lover’s embrace, and stood before him with flaming
+cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>“I never imagined that you loved me so much,” she
+murmured. “It seems like a wonderful dream.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is no dream,” North assured, “it is the glorious
+reality. I was afraid that you didn’t love me, but I
+had to tell you to-day, for I might not see you again
+for some time.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! are you going away?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, in a short time, just as soon as the dogs get
+rested a little. There is serious work ahead, and I
+must not delay.”</p>
+
+<p>“In connection with the murder?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. Hugo is the man I want. He is either the
+murderer, or he has information which I need. But
+he is a nasty man to face, and there may be trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh! do you think so?” The color faded somewhat
+from Marion’s cheeks. She had to think of two now.
+How terrible it would be if her father and her lover
+should meet in a deadly encounter! She longed to tell
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>North of the discovery she had made. If he knew that
+Hugo was her father, would he let him escape for her
+sake? But how could she tell him? What would he
+think of her for trying to divert him from the strict
+line of duty which she understood he had always followed?</p>
+
+<p>These thoughts flashed through her mind with lightning
+rapidity as she stood there. North noted the
+troubled expression in her eyes, and attributed it to
+her interest on his behalf.</p>
+
+<p>“You must not worry about me,” he told her. “I
+am well able to take care of myself.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I am thinking about the trapper,” Marion
+truthfully explained. “I do not believe that he is the
+murderer. Why should he have brought that little
+child here if he had murdered its parents? Would he
+not have killed it, too, and fled to the wilderness? Have
+you thought of that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed I have,” was the emphatic reply, “and it is
+that which puzzles me. But Hugo is a strange character,
+and always does just the opposite from what
+one would expect. He may have brought the child
+here in order to deceive us.”</p>
+
+<p>“But no one would have suspected him,” Marion insisted.
+“He could have murdered the parents and child
+and thrown their bodies into the river. What reason
+did he have for saving the child and bringing it here?
+Would you have suspected him of the deed?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not at first, perhaps, but eventually we would have
+suspected him. It is utterly impossible for any man to
+escape in a country such as this. So far, every criminal
+has been brought to justice, no matter to what part
+of the world he fled. But, there, let us forget Hugo
+at present. I shall have enough of him before long. It
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>is of you alone I want to think, Marion. Your love
+means more to me than anything else. And you do
+love me, don’t you? The assurance from your lips
+will send me forth upon my quest with renewed energy.
+I shall hasten the task, knowing that the sooner it is
+accomplished, the sooner I shall return to you.”</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant was about to reach out his arms once
+more to draw Marion toward him, when a step along
+the hallway caused him to hesitate. He retreated a
+couple of steps, and thus the two were standing facing
+each other in a most formal manner as a nurse appeared
+at the door.</p>
+
+<p>“Excuse me, Miss Brisbane,” she began, “but a man
+has just arrived from Big Chance for the doctor. A
+miner has been seriously injured, and needs medical
+aid.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where is the man who brought the news?” Marion
+questioned, now all attention.</p>
+
+<p>“He has gone to look after his dogs,” was the reply.
+“I told him the doctor was away, but that we are expecting
+him back soon. He asked if one of the nurses
+could go, as the case is very urgent. He said that he
+could not take his own dogs out again, as they are almost
+exhausted with travelling day and night. I wonder
+what can be done.”</p>
+
+<p>“I must get a team and go at once,” Marion emphatically
+declared. “I have gone before, so can do it
+again. Tell Miss Wade to prepare my outfit, as she
+knows what I shall need. I know where I can get a
+good team of dogs, so shall look after that myself.”</p>
+
+<p>When the nurse had gone, Marion turned to the
+sergeant. Her eyes shone with animation and her face
+expressed determination.</p>
+
+<p>“You will have to excuse me,” she simply said.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>“‘Duty first’ is the law here as well as in the Force.
+I must get ready at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“Suppose you travel with me,” North suggested. “I
+am bound for Big Chance, and nothing on earth would
+please me better than to have you along. I shall order
+Rolfe to have the dogs ready in an hour’s time. They
+are a great team, and can make the trip faster than any
+dogs you can get in Kynox. I am sure we shall enjoy
+the run together. Rolfe, too, will be delighted to have
+a woman along. He will regale you with poetry of
+which his head is full. He is an excellent fellow, for
+all that, and as true as steel.”</p>
+
+<p>“I think it will be splendid to go with you,” Marion
+emphatically replied. “It will not take me long to get
+ready. As for poetry, Mr. Rolfe can quote to his
+heart’s content. I shall enjoy it, I am sure.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what about the important matter we were discussing
+when the nurse arrived? I am hungry for
+your answer. You surely have it ready.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, that’s to be continued, like they say about a
+story,” Marion smilingly replied.</p>
+
+<p>“On the trail?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps so.”</p>
+
+<p>“And the conclusion?”</p>
+
+<p>Marion paused as she was about to leave the room.
+Her thoughts flashed to the murder, and her suspected
+father. The troubled expression returned to her eyes
+as she turned them upon her lover’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“The conclusion can only come after several more
+chapters have been written,” she quietly replied. “All
+depends upon the nature of those chapters. You must
+be patient and wait.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 5<br>
+<small>Face to Face</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">A LEADEN sky and a wind increasing in intensity
+presaged a coming storm. It had been threatening
+since morning, and although Sergeant North knew
+that he could not outstrip it, yet he hoped to reach Big
+Chance before the trail became too heavy. The dogs
+were in fine trim, better than he had ever seen them.
+They seemed to realize the importance of the mission
+upon which they were bent, and the special need for
+haste. They sped along the narrow, winding trail,
+through forests, across inland lakes, up dreary stretches
+of wild meadows, and over desolate tracts, where trees
+withered by fire stood stark and bare. Pedro, a noble
+Malamute, long and lithe as a wolf, was the leader.
+Five of his companions were full-blooded huskies, of
+the Mackenzie River breed, surly and treacherous, but
+great workers. John, the wheel-dog, was the only
+mongrel, lazy, but of enduring strength and speed when
+forced by the stinging lash. For such a team of seven
+able and hardened brutes the load they drew retarded
+them but little. At times the sergeant, who guided the
+sled, and the constable, who followed after, found it
+all they could do to keep pace with the fleet animals.</p>
+
+<p>Seated upon the sled, and well wrapped in robes and
+blankets, Marion Brisbane thoroughly enjoyed the trip
+through the wilderness. Never before had she been
+drawn by such a noble team of dogs, and she never
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>wearied watching them as they loped forward. Added
+to this, was the presence of the man who had avowed
+his love the day before. Although she could not see
+his face, she could feel his presence as he towered above
+her at his watchful task of directing the sled. His
+right hand held the whip, but only when the wheel-dog
+lagged would the lash split the air like a pistol shot.
+There was little chance for conversation. The lovers
+were happy, so words did not signify.</p>
+
+<p>They had made good progress the previous afternoon,
+and had reached the little road-house at the Forks,
+about twenty miles from Kynox, several hours after
+dark. Here they had spent the night, and were up and
+on their way early in the morning. From here to Big
+Chance the only stopping-place was a police patrol-house.
+This was free to prospectors, miners, and other
+travellers, with the distinct understanding that no damage
+was to be done, and if they were forced to use any
+of the provisions stored there they were to report it to
+the police as soon as possible. This was a strict law,
+and it was always obeyed to the letter.</p>
+
+<p>At first Sergeant North hoped to make Big Chance
+without stopping at the patrol-house. He could not
+afford the delay if they were to reach their destination
+that night. But when the storm came upon them just
+after they had eaten their frugal meal in the shelter of
+a little clump of trees, he was forced to give up the
+idea of gaining the mining camp that night. They would
+do well to reach the patrol-house.</p>
+
+<p>They were passing through a wooded region when
+the snow began to fall, and it dropped gently and
+harmlessly upon their bodies. The flakes were small,
+easily brushed aside, and in no wise interfered with
+their progress. But the roaring of the wind overhead
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>and the swaying of the tree-tops told of the tempest
+that was raging outside.</p>
+
+<p>“Suppose we camp here,” Rolfe suggested. “It’s a
+nasty storm, and we’ll hit a bad trail ahead over the
+burnt land.”</p>
+
+<p>“But we can make it, all right,” North replied. “We
+don’t want to spend the afternoon and night here.
+We’re travelling light, remember, with very little grub
+for ourselves, and none for the dogs. There’s plenty at
+the patrol-house ahead, so we must make that. This
+storm may last for a couple of days.”</p>
+
+<p>Rolfe saw the wisdom of the sergeant’s words, and
+lapsed into silence as he plodded steadily on. Ere long
+the trail led out of the woods into the open on a small
+lake. Here the wind showed some of its force, and
+swirled the light snow about their forms. But it was
+only after they had passed through another grove of
+trees and reached the burnt land did they feel the full
+sweep of the storm. Here thousands of rampikes stood
+gaunt and naked. Among these the snow was driving
+like millions of lances of the great unseen legions of
+the northland. The dogs flinched and whined as the
+tempest struck them. Even North and Rolfe were
+compelled to turn their faces from the stinging fury of
+the icy darts, while Marion was forced to cover her
+head completely with the fur rug.</p>
+
+<p>“Can we make it?” Rolfe gaspingly asked. “This
+is terrible!”</p>
+
+<p>“We must,” North replied. “We can’t stay here,
+and we can’t go back. Get out the snow-shoes, for the
+trail’s already full.”</p>
+
+<p>With the snow-shoes donned, North spoke to the
+crouching dogs. But for the first time in their lives
+they refused to obey their master’s command.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>“Mush on,” the sergeant roared as the long lash
+snapped and sizzled around their ears and flanks.</p>
+
+<p>Howls of pain rent the air as the dogs struggled to
+their feet and strained at the traces. With bent heads
+and lolling tongues they moved slowly forward. It
+was Pedro who bore the main brunt of the storm, as
+he nosed his way onward. At length the wheel-dog
+lagged, surged back and dropped in his tracks. He
+refused to move, buried his nose in the snow and
+seemed to pay no heed to the whining lash. There was
+no time for delay, so he was unhitched, thrust rudely
+aside, and replaced by the dog ahead. Then on again
+they pressed, the snow becoming deeper, and the wind
+fiercer. Several times Marion begged to be allowed
+to walk. But North only laughed, reminding her that
+she had no snow-shoes.</p>
+
+<p>Even Pedro at length stopped, squatted in the snow,
+and turned appealing eyes upon his master’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“Played out, old boy?” North queried. “You’ve
+certainly done well.” He then turned to the constable.
+“Take my place, Rolfe, I’m going to help the dogs.”</p>
+
+<p>From the front of the sled he procured a rope, both
+ends of which he attached to Pedro’s harness. With
+the loop thus formed placed over his shoulders he went
+ahead, broke down the trail, making it easier for the
+team to follow. In this manner they were able to make
+better progress, and they were just in sight of thick
+woods beyond when the huskies dropped and refused to
+go a step farther. They, too, were cast adrift, and the
+sergeant and Pedro, assisted now by the constable, tried
+to draw the sled. They went but a short distance when
+they were forced to give up in despair.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s no use,” North panted, “we can’t make it. I
+guess you’ll have to walk, after all, Marion, unless you
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>have wings. Rolfe, you go ahead and beat down the
+trail.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion was only too glad to be on her feet. She
+was cold and uncomfortable from her cramped position.
+The sergeant looked at her in admiration as she
+smilingly threw aside the robes and stepped upon the
+trail. The parka she was wearing could not conceal her
+sparkling eyes, animated face, and several tresses of
+dark-brown hair waving over cheeks and forehead.
+How he longed to pick her up in his arms and carry her
+to the house. He knew that he could do it, for she
+seemed so fragile as she stood there buffeted by the
+storm. Marion noticed his look, and surmised its
+meaning.</p>
+
+<p>“I am quite able to walk,” she said. “You have no
+idea how strong I am.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know you are, and, in a way, I am sorry. I would
+really like to carry you. I dare you to let me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nonsense,” Marion chided. “I am going to show
+you what I can do.”</p>
+
+<p>“Very well, then,” the sergeant sighed, “follow on
+my heels, as Shakespeare says, and we shall soon reach
+the woods.”</p>
+
+<p>The trail thus beaten down by two pairs of snow-shoes
+was not hard to follow, and in a short time the
+heavy timber was reached. Here the wind could not
+touch them, and they both breathed more freely as they
+stopped to rest.</p>
+
+<p>“The patrol-house is only a few rods ahead,” North
+explained, “so we should be able to make it now without
+much trouble. Are you tired?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not much,” was the reply. “You won’t have to
+carry me, after all, will you?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>“I am afraid not. But, hello! here’s Rolfe back
+again.”</p>
+
+<p>“I beat the way almost to the house,” the constable
+explained, “so I’m going after the dogs. I expect to
+have trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do the best you can,” North replied, “and I shall
+hurry back to help you.”</p>
+
+<p>It did not take the sergeant and Marion long to come
+in sight of the patrol-house. It was a small building,
+situated a few yards from the trail. As they approached,
+they could see smoke issuing from the stove
+pipe stuck up through the roof.</p>
+
+<p>“Somebody’s ahead of us, I see,” North remarked.
+“The place will be warm at any rate.”</p>
+
+<p>In another minute they were at the door, which the
+sergeant at once unlatched and pushed open. They were
+accosted by the growl of a dog, but Marion paid little
+attention to the animal, for her eyes were fixed at once
+upon the man standing in the middle of the room. She
+knew him at once, and her heart almost stopped its
+beating. The sergeant, however, stepped forward as
+one who had a right to the place. If he recognized
+Hugo, the trapper, he gave no sign.</p>
+
+<p>“Bad storm,” he remarked. “I’m glad you’ve got a
+good fire. I hope you won’t mind visitors.”</p>
+
+<p>“Make yourself at home,” Hugo replied, mistaking
+him for a miner or a prospector. “All are welcome
+here.”</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant then turned to Marion and noted how
+she was staring at the trapper.</p>
+
+<p>“You stay here,” he said, “while I go and give a
+hand with the dogs. I won’t be any longer than I can
+help.”</p>
+
+<p>Turning, he passed out into the storm, and Marion
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>was left alone with her father. He was watching her
+somewhat curiously, his cap pulled well down over his
+ears. The light from the little window in the south
+side of the building made it possible for her to see him
+quite plainly. What should she say? Did he have any
+idea who she was? Should she warn him of his danger?
+Would that be fair to North? And yet he was
+her father, even though he had deserted her and her
+mother for so long.</p>
+
+<p>And while she thus stood in doubt there came into
+her mind his loving care when she was but a child.
+How he had played with her, fondled her, and she had
+always looked forward to his coming home at night.
+It all rushed upon her now in a moment. Forgotten
+was everything else. What would her mother say if
+she did not stand by him in his time of need?</p>
+
+<p>And all the while Hugo was watching her. What was
+there in her face that caused that peculiar expression
+to appear in his eyes? Why did he at length step
+quickly forward and lay his right hand upon her arm?</p>
+
+<p>“Take off your hood,” he ordered in a voice filled
+with emotion.</p>
+
+<p>As Marion at once obeyed, he looked upon her tossed
+hair, and again studied her face most intently. He
+seemed like a man trying to recall something which
+he had long since forgotten. Marion noted this and
+her heart beat wildly. The pathetic expression upon
+his face moved her deeply. She could endure the strain
+no longer. Hugo had turned away, and was about to
+go over to the little stove.</p>
+
+<p>“Father! Father!” she cried, “don’t you know me?
+I am Marion, your own daughter.”</p>
+
+<p>With a roar the trapper wheeled and again faced the
+girl. The doubt was now gone from his face, and in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>its stead there was an expression of bewildered joy.</p>
+
+<p>“You my daughter?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
+“You Marion Brisbane?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I am,” was the faint response. “Didn’t you
+know me?”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo’s only reply was to reach out and gather her
+in his great arms. The tension of long years was
+broken. The man of iron, the terror of interferers, and
+the enigma of the trails was at last subdued. His
+head rested upon his daughter’s shoulder, while great
+sobs shook his mighty frame. At length he stepped
+back and held her at arm’s length.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I can see your mother’s looks,” he mused as
+if to himself. “I thought I couldn’t be mistaken. Tell
+me, is she alive?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, she has been dead for some time.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah!” Hugo’s hands dropped, and he stood staring
+off into space. The past was sweeping upon him like a
+flood, and overwhelming him. He turned and sat
+down heavily upon a rough block of wood which
+served as a seat. With back bowed and head bent he
+remained very still. Marion went to his side and laid
+a hand upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>“But you have me, father,” she began. “I have
+been searching for you a long time.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have!” Hugo looked at her in surprise. “How
+did you know me?”</p>
+
+<p>“By your white lock.”</p>
+
+<p>“When did you see that?”</p>
+
+<p>“At the hospital when you were asleep on the kitchen
+floor.”</p>
+
+<p>“But my cap was on.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know it was. But I crept in and lifted it.”</p>
+
+<p>“So you followed me here?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>“Oh, no. I had no idea where you had gone. I am
+on my way to Big Chance to attend an injured miner.
+The storm caused us to take refuge here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is travelling with you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sergeant North, and——”</p>
+
+<p>Before Marion could finish, Hugo was on his feet.
+The old expression of hate and fear had returned to
+his eyes, and in an instant he was completely transformed.
+With a bound he was across the room. In
+another instant he had seized his snow-shoes, rifle, and
+a bundle lying upon the floor. Then with a swift glance
+toward his daughter, he rushed to the door, tore it
+open, called to his dog, and plunged out into the storm.</p>
+
+<p>All this happened so quickly that Marion was amazed
+and dumbfounded. But when her father had left she
+hurried to the door and looked out. But no sign of
+him could she see. He had vanished in the forest and
+the storm. A terrible dread now swept upon her. Only
+one meaning could she take from her father’s peculiar
+action. He must be fleeing from the Police! But why
+unless he had committed some crime? She thought of
+the murder near the C. D. Cut-Off. Did her father
+commit that?</p>
+
+<p>Forgotten was the storm as she stood in the doorway,
+staring out among the trees. She thought nothing
+of the cold, neither did she notice the sergeant until
+he was but a few yards away.</p>
+
+<p>“Marion! Marion! what is the matter?” he asked
+in astonishment, noticing the strained look upon her
+face. “Has anything happened?”</p>
+
+<p>Marion gave a nervous laugh as she stepped back into
+the room, closely followed by the sergeant.</p>
+
+<p>“I am lonely, that’s all,” she evaded. “The man you
+left with me has gone.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>“H’m that’s good,” North replied. “He didn’t like
+a woman around, I suppose. One comes across queer
+characters up here. Some of them have lived so long
+alone that they hardly know how to behave in the
+presence of a female. But, there, we need not worry
+about that fellow. If he doesn’t like your company,
+there’s someone else who does.” Stooping, he kissed
+her upon the lips. “There, little girl, you know who
+likes your company, so you needn’t be lonely any more.”</p>
+
+<p>Just then Rolfe was heard outside shouting to the
+dogs. Marion started and drew back, her face flushed
+a deep crimson.</p>
+
+<p>“Does he know?” she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>“Who? Rolfe?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sure. Do you think I could keep the good news
+from him?”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 6<br>
+<small>Zell</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">IN a rude log shack in the little mining camp of Big
+Chance a young man lay on a rough bunk. By his
+side sat Marion Brisbane. She had done all in her
+power on his behalf, but she was fully aware that
+greater skill than she possessed was needed. Only a
+doctor could probe for the bullet which was lodged in
+his side. She felt her own helplessness as she sat there
+with the still form so near.</p>
+
+<p>Marion had several things to worry her this night.
+She thought of the journey from the patrol-house to
+the mining camp. She knew that Sergeant North
+loved her with all the intensity of his strong nature.
+And she loved him. But was she true to him? She
+had not told him that the man who had fled from the
+patrol-house out into the storm was Hugo, the trapper,
+and her father. He would find it out some day,
+and what would he then think of her? Should she
+have told him? she asked herself over and over again.
+But it was too late now. He had been gone from Big
+Chance for over an hour, and who could tell what
+might happen ere his return? Perhaps he would never
+come back. He had gone in search of a man who
+would not lightly be captured. And in the struggle
+which she felt sure would ensue what terrible things
+might happen. Her father would fight to the last, she
+was certain, and so would John North. He had never
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>been known to turn from the face of man, so she had
+heard, and so far he had never come back from a quest
+empty-handed.</p>
+
+<p>And while she sat and meditated, the door was
+pushed gently open and a girl entered. She came at
+once over to the bunk, stooped and looked earnestly
+upon the unconscious man. She then dropped upon
+her knees by his side, took his left hand in hers and
+pressed it to her lips. Not a word did she utter, and
+seemed to pay no heed to the nurse. But Marion did
+not need any explanation. She understood the meaning
+of the girl’s action, and her heart went out to her
+in sympathy. She believed that the two were lovers,
+and that because of their love a tragedy had been
+enacted there in that little mining camp. The girl
+impressed her by her remarkable beauty and strange
+abandon. Her clothes were of the roughest, but so
+graceful was her form, that they fitted her perfectly.
+Her hair, black as a raven’s wing, fell in two long
+braids to her waist. The color of her face betrayed
+Indian blood in her veins, causing Marion to surmise
+that she was a half-breed. She had met several before,
+but none as graceful and charming as the one before
+her. She longed to know her history, and the story of
+her love for the white man upon the bunk.</p>
+
+<p>At length the girl raised her head and looked up at
+the nurse.</p>
+
+<p>“Will he get better?” she asked in a voice with a
+pronounced English accent.</p>
+
+<p>“Let us hope so,” Marion replied. “But he needs a
+doctor at once. He is the only one who can do anything
+for him now.”</p>
+
+<p>“When will he be here?”</p>
+
+<p>“I cannot tell. But I left word for him to come as
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>soon as possible. He was away from Kynox when I
+left.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you can do nothing for him?” the girl asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing, I am sorry to say.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then he must have the missionary. He will come,
+I know.”</p>
+
+<p>“The missionary? Where is he?”</p>
+
+<p>“At ‘The Gap.’ I shall go for him. He will come
+for me. He is a good doctor, and he will pray and
+make him well.”</p>
+
+<p>The girl rose to her feet as if to hurry away. But
+Marion caught her by the arm and told her to sit down.</p>
+
+<p>“What is your name?” she asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Zell.”</p>
+
+<p>“What else? What is your father’s name?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sam Rixton, but people always call him ‘Sam, the
+Siwash.’ My mother is an Indian. Her name is
+Susie.”</p>
+
+<p>“And have you lived here all your life?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no. I was put in the Mission school at The
+Gap when very young, and left only a year ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“So that is where you learned to speak English so
+well, I suppose.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, the missionary and his wife were good to me.
+I guess they thought more of me than of all the others.
+They wanted to keep me and take me back to England.
+They came from there, you see.”</p>
+
+<p>“But you preferred to stay here?”</p>
+
+<p>“I wanted to go until I met Tim,” was the low reply.
+“After that nothing could drag me away from the
+North. Oh, we were so happy until that trouble came.”
+The girl gave a deep sigh as she looked longingly upon
+the face of the man before her.</p>
+
+<p>“Where did you first meet him?” Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>“At The Gap. I was at school then and met Tim
+when he was prospecting in the hills. He used to come
+to church every Sunday, and I saw him as we all
+marched in and out. Then for a time we managed to
+get letters to each other, and one night after all had
+gone to bed I slipped out of the house and met Tim by
+a big tree. He told me how much he loved me, and
+asked me to leave school and go back to my father and
+mother so he could see me often.”</p>
+
+<p>The girl paused and a troubled expression overspread
+her face. Then with tear-dimmed eyes she turned impulsively
+to the nurse.</p>
+
+<p>“That was the beginning of all my trouble,” she
+confessed. “I was found out and ordered not to meet
+Tim again. The missionary and his wife talked to me.
+They did not scold me, but said if I would not obey
+I would have to leave the school. I promised that I
+would be good. But, oh, Miss, as the weeks went by
+I did so long to see Tim just once again. I couldn’t
+live without him. I met him again by the tree, and—and,”
+her voice was very low now, “I was sent from
+the school in disgrace, and came to my parents.”</p>
+
+<p>“Have you seen the missionary and his wife since?”
+Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p>“No. Mrs. Norris died not long after I left. I did
+want to go to her funeral, but it was a long way, and
+I was afraid to meet the missionary. I believe she
+died because I left, for she thought so much of me. I
+couldn’t bear the thought of the missionary seeing me.
+I knew he wouldn’t scold, for he never did that, but
+he would look at me with those wonderful eyes of his,
+and, oh, Miss, if you could see them you would know
+just what I mean.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is the missionary still living at The Gap?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>“Yes, he is there, but he has no school now. Nearly
+all of the Indians have deserted him. Bad white men
+did it. They took in rum, made fun of the missionary
+and his school, and got the Indians to leave the place.
+They are all scattered now, some here, and some in
+other camps, always hanging around for rum. They
+will do anything for hootch, and the women are just
+as bad as the men.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why does the missionary stay at The Gap when
+the Indians have gone?” Marion enquired.</p>
+
+<p>“He is waiting for them to come back, so I have been
+told. He prays and prays for them. He has service
+in the church every night, and most of the time he is
+the only one there. But he rings the little bell just as
+he used to do, and then goes on with the service.”</p>
+
+<p>“He must be a good man,” Marion remarked.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, he is very good. But he is getting old and
+feeble now, so maybe he won’t be there much longer.
+But if he were only here I am sure he would help Tim.
+His prayers, I guess, would do more for him than anything
+else.”</p>
+
+<p>“You haven’t forgotten what you learned at the
+school, I see. You still believe in prayers, even though
+you have gone astray.”</p>
+
+<p>“I haven’t gone astray in the way you mean,” the
+girl declared as she gave her head a slight toss. “I
+was sent from the school, I know, but I have done
+nothing really wrong. I always remember what I was
+taught, and say my prayers night and morning. Tim
+is a good man and he always told me to do what was
+right.”</p>
+
+<p>“But he was willing for you to disobey orders, and
+get dismissed from the school,” Marion reminded.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, that was different, Miss. You see, we loved
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>each other so much that we couldn’t bear to be kept
+apart. Nothing must stand in the way of love, so
+Tim said.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion was tempted to smile at the simplicity and
+candor of the girl. To her, whatever Tim said was
+right. She longed to know more about the young man
+who had won the heart of this beautiful half-breed.</p>
+
+<p>“Were you and Tim planning to get married soon?”
+she asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes. He said he was going to take me outside
+next summer, and we would then be married. But now
+this trouble has come, and Tim may die.”</p>
+
+<p>“How did it happen, Zell? You don’t mind telling
+me, do you?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t mind, Miss. But I am afraid all the time.
+Bill did that to Tim, and he might do worse to me. He
+is a bad, bad man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is Bill?”</p>
+
+<p>“The man who shot Tim. He hates him because he
+wants me. Oh, I am afraid of him! He follows me
+around. He is called ‘Bill, the Slugger’ because he hits
+so hard.”</p>
+
+<p>“So he wants to marry you, does he?” Marion
+queried, for the first time beginning to understand a
+little of the situation.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, he does. But I hate him, and have told him
+so over and over again. I slapped him in the face once,
+and he swore awful, called me a ‘she-devil,’ and said
+that he would pay me back. And that is the way he
+has done it.” She motioned to the man on the bunk.
+“I am afraid to go home, for I know Bill will be waiting
+for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“But how did he come to shoot Tim?” Marion
+asked. “Was it for revenge?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>The girl looked anxiously toward the door and then
+at the nurse.</p>
+
+<p>“Bend your head so I can whisper in your ear,” she
+ordered. “There, that’s better. I don’t want anybody
+to hear. Bill might be listening at the door. It
+was partly for revenge and partly for fear that he shot
+Tim.”</p>
+
+<p>“Fear of what?”</p>
+
+<p>“He was afraid that Tim knew too much, so he
+wanted to get him out of the way. Bill picked a quarrel
+with him, so Tim got mad and hit him. Oh, I found
+out all about it.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what was it about which Tim knew too much?”
+Marion questioned.</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t you guess?” the girl asked. “I don’t like to
+tell you because I am afraid even to speak of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have no idea what it can be,” Marion replied.
+“You see, I know very little about what goes on here.”</p>
+
+<p>“But it wasn’t here, Miss, that it happened. It was
+far away, near the C. D. Cut-Off.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” It was all that Marion said, for a new light
+was beginning to dawn upon her mind. The C. D.
+Cut-Off! It was near there that the terrible murder
+had been committed, of which her father was suspected.
+Was it possible that this girl knew something about
+that affair? It did seem likely, and the thought filled
+her with a new hope. “Was it Bill who did that?”
+she asked in a very low voice.</p>
+
+<p>Zell started, and again glanced toward the door.</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t say that, Miss,” she whispered in reply.
+“I don’t dare to. He would kill me if I did.”</p>
+
+<p>“You needn’t be afraid,” Marion soothed. “The
+Police will not let any one harm you. Sergeant North
+must know about this.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>At these words the girl sprang to her feet, her eyes
+dilated with fear. She was trembling violently, and
+unconsciously she stooped and caught the nurse’s hands
+in hers.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t, don’t tell him!” she begged. “Bill will know
+who told, and he will kill me. I’m not afraid to die,
+but I want to live a while longer to help Tim. I must
+go for the missionary. I shall go just as soon as Bill
+leaves Big Chance.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where is Bill going?” Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know for sure, but I think he is planning to
+go outside. Just after the Police left, he began to get
+ready for a trip. He was packing up when I came here.
+He has been almost frightened out of his wits ever
+since the Police came.”</p>
+
+<p>“How do you know all this, Zell?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I have ways of finding out. I have kept my
+eyes on Bill ever since he shot Tim. He didn’t know
+I was watching him.”</p>
+
+<p>“So you think he is going to leave this country?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am sure of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“How will he go?”</p>
+
+<p>“By way of The Gap and across the mountains.”</p>
+
+<p>“But the Police have gone in that direction,” Marion
+reminded. “Why should he go where they are?”</p>
+
+<p>“Bill has a reason,” was the low reply.</p>
+
+<p>“What reason?”</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t you guess? A bad man will stop at nothing.”</p>
+
+<p>“But the Police can stop him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Can they? You don’t know Bill, I guess. He’s a
+devil.”</p>
+
+<p>“But he is afraid of the Police, so you say.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is so. He is so afraid that he hates them.
+The missionary used to tell us what the Bible said
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>about the devil going around like a roaring lion seeking
+whom he may devour; that he hates good people, and
+tries to harm them. So that is the way with Bill. He
+has tried over and over again to harm me, but I was
+too sharp for him. Look what he did to Tim. And
+he will try to hurt the Police.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! Sergeant North?” Marion had a new interest
+now in Bill, the Slugger. “Will he dare to do anything
+to a member of the Force?”</p>
+
+<p>Zell was quick to detect the note of anxiety in Marion’s
+voice, and at once she suspected something. It
+drew her closer to the beautiful white woman.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you love Sergeant North?” she frankly asked.</p>
+
+<p>Marion started and flushed at the unexpected question.
+But so sincere was the girl, that she decided to
+throw aside all reserve and pretense.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I love him,” she candidly acknowledged.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, that’s good. And does he love you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then, Miss, you can understand how I feel
+about Tim. You wouldn’t want that to happen to the
+one you love, would you?”</p>
+
+<p>“No! No!” Marion fervently declared. “It would
+be terrible!”</p>
+
+<p>“It would, so you and I must see that it doesn’t
+happen.”</p>
+
+<p>“How can we do that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Go with me to The Gap and warn the Sergeant.
+If we cannot overtake him, we can go to the Police
+house which is not far from the school. The Sergeant
+will be sure to stop there.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what about Tim?” Marion asked. “We can’t
+leave him here alone until the doctor comes.”</p>
+
+<p>“My mother will stay, Miss. She is a good woman,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>and can do more than I can. My father has a fine
+team of dogs which I know he will let me have. He
+will do anything for me when he knows that I am
+doing what is right. He likes Tim, and he will be
+glad to have the missionary come and pray for him.
+Will you go?”</p>
+
+<p>“When?”</p>
+
+<p>“To-night, before Bill starts. We must get ahead of
+him.”</p>
+
+<p>For a few minutes Marion sat lost in deep thought.
+At length she arose, and seized the girl’s hands in hers.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I shall go,” she firmly said. “I trust you, Zell,
+to lead the way, and may God help us both.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 7<br>
+<small>Terrors of the Night</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">IT was upon the impulse of the moment that Marion
+had agreed to go to The Gap with the half-breed
+girl. Half an hour later she almost repented of her
+hasty decision. She knew very little about Zell, and
+she wondered whether she could trust to her guidance.
+This feeling of doubt, however, vanished as they pulled
+out from Big Chance on the first lap of their long run.
+It was near midnight, and the full moon was just
+rounding the massive northeast shoulder of the Golden
+Horn. The little mining camp was shrouded in deep
+shadow. Silence reigned in each log cabin, and not
+a living creature was to be seen. Zell’s father, Siwash
+Sam, had made speedy preparations for the trip, and
+had given his daughter implicit directions, telling her
+which trail to follow to shorten the journey by several
+miles; to be on the lookout for storms on the mountain;
+and to be careful when rounding the rocky spur of
+the high ridge leading to The Gap.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you think that Zell can manage, all right?”
+Marion asked as she took her place upon the little
+toboggan.</p>
+
+<p>“Sure,” Sam replied. “Zell kin handle them dogs
+better than anyone else. She’s a holy terror when she
+hits the trail. Ye needn’t have any fear about her,
+Miss. Mebbe you’ll be as good as she is before ye git
+back.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>It did not take Marion long to find how true were
+the man’s words. No sooner were they beyond the
+limits of Big Chance than Zell’s entire nature seemed
+to change. No longer was she the quiet, timid girl she
+had known in the cabin watching by Tim’s side.
+Instead, she was transformed into a strong, confident
+guide, resourceful, alert, and full of abounding energy.
+The spirit of the wild seemed to possess her. She raced
+behind the toboggan, urging on the dogs, her whip
+cracking at times like pistol shots.</p>
+
+<p>For miles the trail led through a sparsely wooded
+region where the trees cast long sombre shadows upon
+the light snow. The dogs settled into a steady jog
+where the ground was level, but raced like the wind
+down every hill. Then Zell would jump upon the tail
+of the toboggan and whoop aloud with glee to the
+speeding animals. They seemed to imbibe much of
+the enthusiasm of their young mistress, and upon reaching
+the valley below they would glance quickly around
+as if for a word of approval, which was never lacking.
+They were four noble brutes, huskies, of the Mackenzie
+River breed, accustomed to great hardships, and possessed
+of marvellous endurance. Savage they were to
+all except their owners. To Zell they were harmless.
+They obeyed her slightest wish, and she could handle
+them even when her father and mother failed. A word
+or a lifted hand from her had more effect than a shower
+of blows.</p>
+
+<p>Marion had plenty of time to think as she sat upon
+the toboggan, comfortably wrapped in a big wolf-skin
+robe. She was glad now that she had undertaken the
+journey. There was much at stake, she was well aware,
+and she often wondered how it would all end. What
+she should do upon reaching The Gap, she had no idea.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>But somewhere beyond was her father, fleeing from
+place to place, with that expression of a hunted creature
+in his grey eyes. She had seen it for a few seconds as
+he bounded from the cabin that night into the heart of
+the storm. She had thought about it much since, and
+it had puzzled her. And following her father was John
+North, the man who had avowed his love for her.
+Would they meet somewhere in that desolate wilderness?
+What would be the outcome? And then there
+was Bill, the Slugger. Had he already started forth
+upon his diabolical quest? Perhaps he would creep
+upon the sergeant and the constable asleep around their
+camp-fire at night. The thought was terrible. Such a
+thing had taken place before, she well knew, and it
+might happen again. In vain she racked her brain in
+an effort to devise some plan to avert a tragedy, and
+perhaps two.</p>
+
+<p>For several hours they continued on their way, and
+at last when the summit of an extra heavy hill had
+been reached, Zell called a halt. The dogs were glad to
+stop, so flopping down upon the trail they began to
+clear particles of snow and ice from their feet with
+their teeth. Nearby was a clump of fir trees, several
+of which were dead and afforded excellent fuel. It
+did not take Zell long to prepare a fire, over which she
+placed a kettle filled with snow. While this latter was
+melting, she unpacked her supply of provisions and laid
+them out near the fire. Marion, standing watching,
+was pleased at the girl’s deftness and neatness. She
+knew exactly what to do, and when the meal was ready,
+she served the simple repast with an admirable grace.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose you were taught to cook at the mission
+school,” Marion remarked, helping herself to a piece of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>moose steak which Zell had just fried. “You certainly
+learned your lessons well.”</p>
+
+<p>The girl smiled, while an expression of pleasure
+shone in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Mrs. Norris always taught us,” she explained. “We
+took turns cooking at the school. I won several prizes
+for baking bread, and making cake. Tim was very
+fond of my cooking.”</p>
+
+<p>“You were able to teach your mother many things,
+I suppose, when you went back home?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not much. My mother, you see, was from the
+Coast, and the women there are good cooks. She was
+a Chilcat Indian, and her mother taught her. I have
+heard my father say that he married her because she
+was such a good cook. I guess, though, he was just in
+fun.”</p>
+
+<p>“Does the missionary at The Gap do his own cooking
+now?” Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose he does, Miss. But I don’t believe he eats
+much, anyway. He didn’t when we were at the school,
+as he was always thinking and writing so much. And
+now that he is alone maybe he eats less, for he must
+be working a great deal.”</p>
+
+<p>“What does he write about?”</p>
+
+<p>“He makes books for the Indians. He writes hymns,
+prayers, and the Bible in their own language. He
+has taught many of them to read.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do the Indians use the books?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes. They carry them with them to their hunting-grounds,
+and sing the hymns around their campfires
+at night.”</p>
+
+<p>“But you told me that the Indians have left the
+mission.”</p>
+
+<p>“In a way they have, but they like to read the Bible
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>and sing the hymns when out in the hills. I was with
+my father and mother last winter when we came to a
+band of Indians a long way off. That night they sang,
+men, women, and children. It was great to hear them.”</p>
+
+<p>“Does the missionary know of this?”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe he does, and it makes him hope that they
+have not forgotten what he has taught them, and that
+some day they will go back to The Gap.”</p>
+
+<p>For a while they thus sat and talked, Marion asking
+many questions, to which the girl readily replied. They
+were about to resume their journey when Zell gave a
+slight start, and looked anxiously back over the trail.
+She listened intently, her body tense and alert.</p>
+
+<p>“What is it?” Marion somewhat anxiously asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I thought I heard a noise, Miss. It sounded like
+the crack of a driver’s whip or a rifle shot. But I guess
+I was mistaken. One can hear a long way up here in
+the hills when the air is so clear.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps there is someone on the trail behind us,”
+Marion suggested. “Indians travel this way, do they
+not?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, this is one of their favorite trails. But there
+are no Indians coming from Big Chance to-day.”</p>
+
+<p>Nothing more was said about the matter as they continued
+on their way. But Marion noticed that Zell
+was more quiet, and indulged in no loud cracking of
+the whip. Whenever they had reached the top of a
+hill or had crossed an inland lake, or a stretch of wild
+meadow, she noticed that the girl would stop, and look
+keenly back over the way they had just come. This
+happened so often that she became uneasy. The intense
+silence of the land was affecting her, causing her to become
+nervous. A feeling of impending calamity stole
+into her soul, which try as she might she could not
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>banish. It was with her all through the short winter
+day. She tried to throw it off by running with Zell
+behind the sled. This helped some, but the feeling still
+remained.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bright day, and the dogs made excellent
+progress. They loped forward, anxious for camping
+time when they would receive their food. Marion was
+fascinated with the scenery of the country. Off in the
+distance rose great snow-enshrouded mountains, aglow
+with the light of the sun. Above, towered the dazzling
+peak of the Golden Horn, which seemed so near, yet
+she knew it was leagues away. At times the trail led
+along the side of the mountain where they could look
+down upon the pointed tops of the trees in the valley
+below, resembling countless spears poised heavenward.</p>
+
+<p>Only once did they halt to rest, eat a frugal meal, and
+then on and up again. Marion was becoming weary,
+although Zell seemed as fresh as ever. Slowly the sun
+sank westward, and at length disappeared below a far-off
+peak. Ere long darkness stole over the land, and
+night approached with rapid strides. Soon it would
+be camping time, and Zell was watching for a good
+place to pass the night when a sound fell upon their
+ears, which caused Marion to give a gasp of fright, and
+turn impulsively to her companion.</p>
+
+<p>“What is that?” she asked, her body trembling.</p>
+
+<p>“A wolf,” was the quiet reply. “We must make
+camp at once, and build a big fire. Ah, here is a good
+place with plenty of wood.”</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes the dogs were unharnessed, the
+fire built, and the blazing flames leaping high into the
+air.</p>
+
+<p>From time to time came that long-drawn, blood-curdling
+howl, the cry of the leader to the pack. It seemed
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>nearer now, and Marion shuddered with apprehension.
+Even Zell’s face expressed her concern. From a pocket
+in her dress she brought forth a revolver, and examined
+it carefully. Marion had no idea that the girl carried
+such a weapon, and it surprised her.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you often have use for that?” she asked.</p>
+
+<p>“It is handy sometimes,” was the reply. “One never
+knows what might happen. There are two-legged
+wolves in this country, and I fear them more than I
+do the four-legged ones. A girl has to protect herself,
+you know.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion was beginning to realize something of the
+undercurrent of life in the North. Hitherto, she had
+known only the surface. There were deeps which she
+had not sounded, but of which her companion seemed
+fully aware. She said nothing, however, but assisted
+in building the little lean-to which would be their abode
+for the night. When this had been erected, fir boughs
+laid down, and the blankets and the wolf-skin robe
+laid out, she was glad to rest. No longer did the howl
+of the wolves sound upon their ears. The fire was
+bright, and the snug abode comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>After they had eaten their supper and the dogs were
+fed, they wrapped themselves up for the night. Both
+were tired, so it was not long before they were sound
+asleep. The dogs curled themselves up near the fire
+and enjoyed the genial heat. Silence reigned, save for
+the crackling of the burning sticks, or the occasional
+snapping of a frost-stung tree. The night was cold,
+although not a breath of wind stirred the trees. The
+great vault of heaven was thickly studded with stars,
+for the moon had not risen to pale their glory. The
+Northern Lights sent out their wavering streamers as
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>they marched and countermarched in silent, mysterious
+battalions.</p>
+
+<p>And while the tired ones slept, gaunt, hairy forms,
+with fiery lolling tongues, and blazing eyes, loped along
+the upper ridge, and approached the camp. The wolves
+were hungry, for food was scarce. Only in an extreme
+emergency did these somewhat cowardly creatures venture
+near human abodes. It was the dogs which attracted
+them now. They were in desperate straits, as
+no deer, moose, or any living thing had crossed their
+path for days. Only when starving would they unite,
+for strength and safety lay in numbers. There were
+but twelve of them thus banded together, but mad with
+hunger, they were a pack to be dreaded.</p>
+
+<p>The dogs scented them, and their savage growls
+and whines of fear aroused the sleeping women. Zell
+was first awake, and in an instant realized what was
+the matter. The fire was burning low, so seizing several
+dry sticks she threw them upon the hot coals. In
+another minute Marion was on her feet, looking fearfully
+to the right among the trees where the wolves
+were gathered. As the fire increased in strength, and
+the bright flames illumined the camping grounds for
+several rods around, she was enabled to detect dim,
+slinking forms not far away.</p>
+
+<p>“Will they attack us?” she asked, laying a nervous
+hand upon Zell’s arm.</p>
+
+<p>“Not likely now,” was the reply. “They are after
+the dogs, but this fire will keep them back. Look at
+that big, bold brute there,” and she pointed to a large
+wolf which had ventured threateningly near. “I’m
+going to try a shot at him.”</p>
+
+<p>Drawing forth her revolver, she took a quick steady
+aim, and fired. A yell of pain split the night, as the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>brute leaped into the air, and vanished into the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>“I hit him,” Zell exulted, while a smile wreathed her
+face. “I wish I had my rifle, then I could easily settle
+the whole pack.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you suppose you killed him?” Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no, he was too far away. If I had killed him,
+the rest of the wolves would be eating him up by now.
+I must not waste any more cartridges upon them at that
+distance, as I shall need them if they come too close.”</p>
+
+<p>For some time, which seemed to Marion very long,
+they watched and waited for the next move on the part
+of the lurking brutes. The dogs huddled together close
+to the little lean-to, either whining with fear, or growling
+with anger. Their implacable enemies were just
+beyond that fire-lit circle, and they knew only too well
+the object of their visit. The dogs were ever ready
+and willing to fight with one another, for there was
+always a chance to win. But against those gaunt, savage,
+and famine-stricken fiends of the wilderness they
+would be helpless. Whenever the wolves approached
+nearer, they shrank closer to the women for protection.
+Bolder now became the enemy, and although Zell fired
+two more shots into their midst, it only deterred them
+for a few minutes. They circled the encampment several
+times, always drawing nearer, especially back of the
+lean-to. The situation was becoming critical, for at
+any minute they might hurl themselves upon the helpless
+ones crouching near the fire. Zell kept her revolver
+in readiness, although she was well aware how little
+she could do should a rush ensue.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 8<br>
+<small>Hugo to the Rescue</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">HUGO, the trapper, was late, and he was speeding
+along with great swinging strides. He was
+alone, for he had left his dog fastened in his little cabin
+up on the mountain side. He had a reason for this,
+as his mission that day had been of extreme importance,
+and complete silence had to be maintained. He was
+in no enviable frame of mind as he strode through the
+night, and any enemy, whether man or beast, attempting
+to interfere with him would have found in him a
+desperate opponent. He had been watching another
+trail that day and what he had seen filled his heart with
+a burning rage, mingled with a nameless fear. He felt
+as he did that night when he had bounded from the
+cabin into the storm. Notwithstanding his strength and
+astuteness, he always shrank from the Police, considering
+them his bitterest enemies. So that day as he had
+watched forms speeding along behind their dogs, he
+knew who they were, and surmised the mission upon
+which they were bent.</p>
+
+<p>He had swung up from the valley and was about to
+cross the trail, known as the “Cut-Off,” between Big
+Chance and The Gap, when a shot arrested his attention,
+causing him to stop abruptly. The report came
+from the left, and keenly he peered in that direction.
+Seeing and hearing nothing more, he moved cautiously
+forward. Not a sound did he make as he glided among
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>the trees, keeping a short distance from the trail above.
+Ere long he again stopped, for a glimmer of light fell
+upon his eyes. Then he heard the snarling of dogs,
+and at once realised that trouble of some kind was just
+ahead. Slowly advancing, the light became brighter,
+and a few more steps showed him the women crouching
+near the lean-to with the dogs huddled at their feet.
+In an instant he grasped the meaning of the situation.
+His rifle, already in his hands, he gripped more firmly,
+and waited. He could not see the wolves but he knew
+that they were there. When, however, Zell fired the
+second and the third shots, he caught a glimpse of the
+brutes as they fell back with yelps and angry snarls.</p>
+
+<p>Who the women were Hugo could not tell, not being
+able to see their faces, which were partly hidden by the
+lean-to. He surmised, however, that they were Indians,
+and he wondered what had become of the men. Noticing
+that the wolves were becoming bolder, and evidently
+preparing for an attack, he moved a little nearer, stepping
+somewhat to the right for a better sight. As he
+did so he gave a start, for at once Marion’s face was
+exposed to view. In an instant he recognized her, and
+the form of his countenance changed. The defiant light
+faded from his eyes and was replaced by an expression
+of deep concern. For a few seconds he stood there as
+still as the trees around him. What he saw stirred his
+inmost depths, and brought back memories of other
+days. She was his own child, yet he must not go to her.
+All he could do was to protect her from those brutes
+of the forest.</p>
+
+<p>He was aroused by a cry of fear. Glancing to the
+right he saw a great wolf advancing within the ring
+of light, flanked to the right and left by the rest of the
+pack. Zell fired another shot, but missed. The leader
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>drew back with a savage snarl, and was about to spring
+forward when Hugo brought his rifle to his shoulder
+and fired. With a wild yell the wolf leaped into the
+air, and dropped upon the ground. Taken aback, his
+followers hesitated and one by one they fell before the
+unerring shots of the unseen marksman. Not until five
+had fallen did the rest retreat, and then slowly and
+wrathfully they drew away among the darkness of the
+forest. But Hugo’s blood was now up and he feared
+the wolves as if they were so many kittens. He stepped
+quickly toward them, refilling the magazine of his rifle
+as he did so. He could see their slinking forms now,
+and again into their midst he poured messages of
+death. Yells of pain and baffled rage followed each
+shot. The few remaining wolves faced the trapper, but
+ere they could spring, they, too, were rolling in the
+snow. It was a veritable carnage of death from which
+only one brute escaped by leaping aside and dashing
+off pell-mell among the trees.</p>
+
+<p>When the fight was over, a grim smile overspread
+Hugo’s face. Then he turned toward the surprised and
+staring women.</p>
+
+<p>He was upon the point of stepping forward and
+calming their fears by telling them that the danger
+was past. He changed his mind, however, drew back
+a few paces among the trees, and stood with his eyes
+fixed intently upon Marion’s face. A great longing
+was tugging at his heart such as he had not known for
+years. He recalled the days he had played with her in
+his old happy home. She had changed since then, but
+she was his child. How often he had thought of her
+during his wanderings and long lonely night vigils. In
+fact, she had been seldom out of his mind. His affection
+for her had saved him from developing into a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>brute, causing him to perform numerous deeds of
+humanity, the surprise of many people. So standing
+there, hidden by the trees and the night, he feasted his
+eyes upon her face. After a while he turned away,
+reached the trail, and sped rapidly along in the direction
+of The Gap. At length he turned aside, plunged
+through a heavy thicket of firs and jack-pines, crossed
+a narrow strip of wild meadow, and climbed a steep hill
+until he came to a small cabin tucked away amidst the
+trees. He opened the door and entered. He then
+lighted a couple of candles, and built a fire in the little
+sheet-iron camping-stove. The dog was most profuse
+in its welcome, leaping upon him, and giving expression
+to yelps of delight. Hugo fondled the animal, his
+eyes beaming with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>“Good old Pedro,” he said. “You missed me, eh?
+And I missed you. But strange things are afoot these
+days, old boy, so we must be careful.”</p>
+
+<p>When supper was over and the dog fed, Hugo lighted
+his pipe, stretched himself upon the bunk near the fire,
+and gave himself up to anxious thought. He reviewed
+the events of the day, especially his recent encounter
+with the wolves. What were the women doing there?
+he asked himself over and over again. And where
+were they going? What could bring Marion so far
+into the wilderness? It must be of more than ordinary
+importance, for he had never known a white woman
+to venture such a distance from Kynox, especially in
+the dead of winter. The more he thought about it, the
+more disturbed he became. Had it been any other
+woman it would not have mattered so much to him.
+But she was his own daughter, and his heart was deeply
+stirred.</p>
+
+<p>For over an hour Hugo lay there wrapt in thought.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>He then rose to his feet and paced up and down the
+small room. Several times he went to the door and
+looked out in the direction where the women were
+camped. An uneasy feeling was tugging at his heart
+which he could not banish. He called himself a fool,
+blew out the candles, and threw himself down again
+upon the bunk. But he could not sleep. His thoughts
+were ever down the trail as he pictured those two
+women alone in the night. Perhaps more wolves had
+returned, for he knew that several packs were on the
+move of late. And if not wolves, there were creatures
+more to be feared where helpless women were concerned.
+It was most unlikely that men would be prowling
+around, he reasoned. But who could tell? The
+absence of those women must surely be known at Big
+Chance, and there were men there capable of any deed
+of villainy.</p>
+
+<p>At length he sprang to his feet, pulled on his heavy
+outer jacket and cap, seized his snow-shoes, and ordering
+the dog to stay behind, he left the cabin, and hurried
+down the trail. It took him but a few minutes to come
+near the camping-ground, where he moved most cautiously,
+peering keenly ahead. Although he approached
+most silently, the dogs scented his presence. They
+leaped to their feet and growled ferociously. Hugo
+paid little heed to the brutes, his attention being centred
+upon a lone figure huddled before the fire. Instinctively
+he realised that something was the matter,
+so stepping into the circle of light he rapidly approached.
+Marion saw him coming, recognized him at once, and
+with a cry of joy sprang to her feet. So overcome was
+she that she tottered and would have fallen had not
+Hugo leaped forward and caught her in his arms.
+Just for a few luxurious seconds he held her close, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>then laid her tenderly upon the wolf-skin robe. Marion
+was deadly pale, and she was trembling violently. The
+strain of the night had unnerved her, and this sudden
+and unexpected meeting with her father was more than
+she could endure. As she lay there, she kept her eyes
+fixed upon his face. Then her lips moved as if she
+would speak. This Hugo noted, and he bent toward
+her.</p>
+
+<p>“What is the matter?” he asked. “Why are you
+alone? Where is that girl? You seem almost frightened
+to death.”</p>
+
+<p>“And so I am,” was the low reply. “Oh, this has
+been a terrible night! We were attacked by wolves,
+and when they were about to spring upon us, somebody
+shot them, and saved us.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know all about that,” and Hugo nodded his head.
+“I happened along just at the right moment.”</p>
+
+<p>“Was it really you?” Marion asked in surprise,
+drawing herself up with an effort to a sitting position.
+“And have you seen Zell? Do you know where she is?”</p>
+
+<p>“The girl who was with you?” Hugo asked. “Where
+did she go?”</p>
+
+<p>“She went just a short distance over there after some
+dry wood,” Marion explained, motioning to the right.
+“But she hasn’t come back, and I am afraid that something
+has happened to her. Perhaps the wolves caught
+her.”</p>
+
+<p>“Didn’t you hear any noise?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not a sound.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you call to her?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes. I called to her for a long time, but could
+get no answer.”</p>
+
+<p>“Four-legged wolves didn’t get her,” Hugo emphatically
+declared, while a fierce expression leaped into
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>his eyes. “She would have given a cry of distress if
+they had.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what could have happened to her, then?”</p>
+
+<p>“That remains to be seen. There are worse creatures
+than four-legged wolves prowling around at times,
+especially where attractive women are concerned.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion understood the meaning of these words, and
+her thoughts flashed at once to Bill, the Slugger. Could
+it be possible that he had been following them, and
+had seized the half-breed girl and carried her off ere
+she could give a cry of warning? She recalled what
+Zell had told her about Bill, and his hatred to Tim.
+She felt weaker and more helpless than ever as she
+thought of these things.</p>
+
+<p>“What are we to do?” she asked in a despairing
+voice. Then in a few words she confessed her fears
+to her father.</p>
+
+<p>“And it was Bill who shot Tim, you say?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“That is what Zell told me. Out of revenge, so I
+understand.”</p>
+
+<p>“Was there any other reason?”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe so.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo remained silent for a few minutes, lost in
+thought. Marion watched him closely, and tried to
+see in his face the resemblance she had known and
+loved years before. She thought of all that he had
+meant to her and to her mother, and how he had provided
+for them through the years. And how he must
+have suffered the long separation from those so dear
+to him. What mental agony must have been his. And
+suppose he had done what was wrong, he was her
+father. A sudden rush of affection swept upon her as
+she gazed upon that stern, sad face. The deep wrinkles
+upon his brow told their own silent tale. No matter
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>what he had done, he had surely paid the price over
+and over again.</p>
+
+<p>“Father,” she cried, impetuously reaching out her
+arms. “I want you as I used to want you as a child.”</p>
+
+<p>For an instant only did Hugo hesitate. He then
+stooped and allowed Marion to encircle his neck with
+her arms, and impress a kiss upon his forehead. His
+great form trembled and his eyes were misty. In
+another minute he freed himself, stepped back, and
+stood erect before his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>“You should not do that,” he told her.</p>
+
+<p>“Do what?”</p>
+
+<p>“Kiss me. Am I not an outcast? Have I not been
+hounded from place to place? Are not the Police
+always watching to seize me?”</p>
+
+<p>“But you are my father,” Marion reminded, “and
+no matter what you have done I can never forget that.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo was about to reply, but words seemed suddenly
+to fail him. He stood staring off into the blackness
+of the forest as if he beheld something there.</p>
+
+<p>“Won’t you come with me?” Marion asked, wondering
+at his silence. “We can leave this country, go outside,
+and you can begin life all over again.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no!” Hugo fiercely replied. Then his manner
+changed. “You are tired, worn out. Come with me
+to my little cabin, and when you have rested we will
+talk about this. I have kept you here too long already.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what about Zell?” Marion asked. “She might
+come back.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not likely,” was the reply. “Anyway, we can’t help
+her just now.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 9<br>
+<small>Stains on the Snow</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">MARION was glad to leave the lean-to and follow
+her father. She started aside and gave voice
+to a slight cry of fear as the toe of her moccasined
+foot touched the body of a wolf stiffening upon the
+snow. The forest seemed filled with horrible things,
+dead and alive. And somewhere in their secret depths
+was Zell, the beautiful girl to whom she had become
+so deeply attached. Was she alive? or was she, too,
+lying upon the cold snow like the wolves around her?
+But perhaps she was alive, and longing to die. The
+thought was terrible. Why were base men allowed to
+roam at large, to prey upon helpless and innocent
+women and girls? She knew that it was permitted in
+towns and cities, so could it be otherwise on the ragged
+edge of civilisation? How she longed for the strength
+of a man, her father’s, for instance, that she might go
+about redressing human wrongs.</p>
+
+<p>She thought of these things as she struggled bravely
+along the trail. She had no snow-shoes, and she could
+have made very little progress without her father’s
+strong supporting arm. She did not wish to give up,
+but ere long she felt that she could go no farther. A
+great weakness swept upon her, which forced her to
+sink down upon the snow with a weary gasp. For a
+second Hugo hardly knew what to do. Then without
+a word he stooped, picked her up boldly and bore her
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>speedily forward. Like a tired child she lay in those
+strong encircling arms. How often he had carried her
+when she was a child, and she had often admired his
+strength then. But now he seemed a veritable giant
+as he strode among the trees, crossed the wild meadow,
+and ascended the hill to the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes Marion was lying upon the bunk.
+How good it was to be there, and how restful. She
+felt that she could sleep forever. It did not take Hugo
+long to stir up the few live coals in the stove, boil some
+water, and prepare a cup of tea. This, together with
+some ptarmigan broth he also warmed, proved most
+refreshing. The heat of the room was conducive to
+sleep, and before long she was in a sound slumber.</p>
+
+<p>An expression of satisfaction shone upon Hugo’s
+face as he watched his sleeping daughter. He filled
+and lighted his pipe, and sat down upon a block of wood
+and leaned back against the wall on the opposite side of
+the stove. He could not see the girl’s face, as the one
+candle which was burning gave but a feeble flickering
+light. But he kept his eyes fixed in her direction, and
+his thoughts were deep. He was really happier than
+he had been for years. His own daughter was with
+him, the one for whom his heart had been crying out
+in all his lonely wanderings.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout the rest of the night Hugo kept watch.
+He prepared and ate his frugal breakfast, and fed the
+dog. As daylight was stealing over the land, he left
+the cabin and made his way back to the encampment.
+The dogs were still there, huddled upon the robes in
+the lean-to. The wolves were lying just where they
+had fallen. Hugo glanced at the gaunt brutes as if
+appraising their worth.</p>
+
+<p>“If I had time,” he mused, “I would take you to the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>cabin and strip off your pelts. But I’ve got other matters
+of more importance now.” He then touched the
+nearest wolf with his foot. “You didn’t expect this,
+I reckon, when you made the attack last night. It was
+mighty lucky I happened to come along when I did.
+It’s a pity I wasn’t on hand when that two-legged devil
+was around. There may have been more than one,
+though, but that wouldn’t have made any difference.
+I guess I could have settled the whole bunch. I hope
+to goodness I’ll run across them before long.”</p>
+
+<p>The dogs snarled as he approached the lean-to. But
+he drove them back, and gathered up the robe and
+blankets. He left them there and began to examine
+the environs of the camping-place, especially in the
+direction the half-breed girl had gone after the dry
+wood. The wolves had beaten down the snow so it was
+difficult for him to find any clue. Several times he encompassed
+the place, moving in a wider circle each time
+until he came to the edge of the untrampled snow. He
+had almost reached the trail when his attention was
+arrested by several dry sticks which had evidently been
+dropped in a hurry.</p>
+
+<p>And right here he saw moccasined footprints, large
+and small. Close by, the snow was trampled down, as
+if a struggle had taken place. This spot he examined
+most carefully, hoping to obtain some clue to aid him
+in his search for the missing girl. He was about to
+abandon his search when his right foot upturned a
+piece of cloth which had been hidden by the snow.
+Eagerly he seized this and inspected it closely. It was
+merely a small fragment, and as near as he could make
+out it had belonged to the flap of a man’s cap for the
+protection of his ears. To Hugo it had a world of
+meaning. He pictured the half-breed girl struggling
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>furiously in the arms of her assailant, tearing at the
+man’s face and head, and ripping away a portion of
+his cap in her desperation. A growl of rage rumbled
+up in Hugo’s throat as he thought of the foul attack
+upon a helpless girl. Suppose it had been his own
+daughter! What if Marion were now in the clutches
+of that inhuman brute, whoever he might be! He
+turned and looked off toward the right. Placing the
+piece of cloth carefully in a pocket of his jacket, he
+walked slowly toward the trail, keeping his eyes fixed
+intently upon the footprints, which here were only a
+man’s size. Reaching the trail, he saw that the steps
+led in the direction of Big Chance. How far had the
+villain gone? he asked himself. No doubt he had a
+team of dogs near, and by now he was far away with
+his captive. It was most unlikely that he would take
+the girl back to the little mining camp where her father
+was living. He knew Siwash Sam, a man who minded
+his own business, but when once aroused his wrath was
+terrible. Only a devil or a madman would think of
+interfering with his only daughter, the pride of his life.
+But Bill, the Slugger, was both, he was well aware.
+He was a devil in badness, and his passion for the
+beautiful half-breed girl had turned his brain. Hugo
+knew of other deeds of infamy he had committed, and
+had so cleverly covered up his trail as to escape the far-reaching
+hands of the Police. But now he should not
+escape, was the trapper’s determination. He himself
+would be the avenger of the innocent if the Law did
+not get him first.</p>
+
+<p>The thought of the Law caused Hugo to look
+quickly around. Then he gave a sarcastic grunt as he
+hurried along the trail.</p>
+
+<p>“Hugo, you fool,” he muttered, “you better look
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>after your own skin. If you’re not careful something
+may happen to you.”</p>
+
+<p>His mind turned to his daughter and an anxious
+expression overspread his face. What was he to do
+with her? He longed to have her with him, but under
+the circumstances that was out of the question. He
+thought of the missionary at The Gap. If he could get
+there, perhaps she could live in the mission house for a
+time, at least. He was sure he could make it worth
+while for the missionary to look after his daughter.
+He raised his right hand and pressed it against his
+breast. Yes, the ring was safe, and it would help him
+if necessary. He recalled the day he had found it in
+the crack of the floor in that cabin on the bank of the
+river. How differently matters had turned out from
+what he had planned.</p>
+
+<p>Thinking thus as he hurried forward, he ere long
+came to a heavy clump of trees. He had gone part
+way through when he came upon the site of an abandoned
+camping-place. He felt the ashes, and found
+them cold. He next examined the beaten-down snow
+and saw where the dogs had been lying. He studied
+a number of moccasined footprints, and saw again
+several small impressions, together with large ones.
+He was certain now that they were made by the half-breed
+girl, and that her captor had camped with her
+here. His eyes suddenly rested upon the peculiar marks
+upon the packed-down snow a few feet from the fire.
+Stooping, he saw that it was blood. A chip lying near
+was also stained with frozen drops. Was it human
+blood? he asked himself, or was it from the bleeding
+feet of the dogs? He banished this latter idea, however,
+after he had looked carefully around where the
+dogs had been lying. There were no signs of blood
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>there, so he knew that the stains near the fire were made
+by the blood of human beings. What had happened?
+he wondered. Had a tragedy been enacted there in the
+night? What had become of the campers?</p>
+
+<p>For a while Hugo remained there, searching for
+some further clue. But nothing could he find to aid
+him in his search. Silence reigned around him. Far
+off the peaks of the great mountains were aglow with
+the morning sun. Above him the Golden Horn was
+agleam with surpassing glory. The entire landscape
+seemed fresh and joyous after its bath of night. But
+Hugo noticed none of these wonders. His thoughts
+dwelt upon more serious things. He was thinking
+deeply, and his brow knit with perplexity. There was
+a certain course he wished to pursue, yet he felt unable
+to carry it out. A restraining influence overshadowed
+him, pressing hard upon his very soul. It was no new
+battle he was fighting, as he had been contending
+fiercely for long years. It was a struggle between the
+brute nature within him, and the call to higher things.
+At times the former had seemed to sway his entire
+being, and on such occasions he had been a terror to
+man and beast. But alone in the silence of the great
+wilderness the nobleness within him had always risen
+to battle with the demon that would drag him down.
+And now another element in the person of his daughter
+had come to strengthen his manhood and his desire for
+a new mode of life. Would it not be better to leave the
+trails, he reasoned, face the world boldly, and if punishment
+according to the legal code were necessary, to
+bear it without a murmur?</p>
+
+<p>As he thus stood there battling with these conflicting
+emotions, his keen ears caught a disturbing sound up
+the trail. He listened intently, his entire body now
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>fully alert. That it was a dog-team, he soon became
+certain, and it was rapidly approaching. Forgotten in
+an instant was Hugo’s half-formed resolve to face the
+world boldly, and begin life anew. The habits of
+years had taken too firm a grip upon him to be shuffled
+off at will like a suit of clothes. Like a subtle poison
+the spirit of determined antagonism had permeated his
+entire being, affecting his every thought and action.</p>
+
+<p>With an angry growl he sprang from the trail,
+crashed through the trees, and made his way to the
+base of the hill not far away. Here he paused and
+looked back. Not being able to see anything owing to
+the intervening trees, he ascended the hill until he came
+to a large rock behind which he crouched. From this
+place of concealment he could see fairly well all that
+took place on the trail below. Neither did he have long
+to wait, for in a few minutes a dog-team hove in sight,
+and pulled up near the abandoned camping-place. The
+two men who accompanied the dogs he at once recognized
+as Sergeant North and Constable Rolfe. He
+shrank back a little more behind the great rock, fearful
+lest he should be observed. His respect for the Police
+was now greater than ever. The day before he had
+watched them as they sped along the main trail between
+Big Chance and The Gap. He had smiled grimly then,
+satisfied that they were on the wrong scent. Now,
+however, they were right before him, and but for his
+keenness of hearing and quickness of action they would
+have been upon him before he could escape. To accomplish
+that journey they must have travelled all
+night. But why had they changed their course? That
+thought filled him with an intense uneasiness. His
+heart throbbed with hatred as he watched them. How
+easily he could pick them off. Only two shots would
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>be necessary, for he knew that he could not miss. He
+clutched hard his rifle, and the forefinger of his mittenless
+right hand toyed with the trigger. One firm
+pressure, then the snick of the breech-bolt, a second
+reverberating report and all would be over. It was a
+tempting situation. But Hugo hesitated. He might
+kill those two men, but what would be gained? There
+were others to take their place, for back of them was
+the entire Force, together with the strength of the
+whole British Empire if necessary. He thought, too,
+of Marion. Why should he bring more disgrace upon
+her? If he had only himself to consider it would be
+different. It did not matter much what happened to
+himself. He felt that he was of little use in the world,
+anyway.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly his grasp lessened upon the rifle, and he replaced
+the mitten upon his uncovered hand. Then
+fearful lest the Police should notice his tracks and
+follow him, he moved cautiously from the rock, slipped
+among the thicket of jack-pines, and sped rapidly away.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 10<br>
+<small>Lost</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">ZELL had stooped and was picking up the dry
+wood she had gathered that evening, when she
+was suddenly seized and a mittened hand placed firmly
+over her mouth. Almost maddened with fright, she
+struggled desperately to free herself, and to cry for
+help. But she was powerless in the strong arms which
+held her fast. As she was being borne off, she fought
+like a wildcat, tearing at her captor’s face and cap,
+and clawing at his throat. But her efforts were all in
+vain, for she was carried rapidly away, and only when
+a camping-place was reached by the side of the trail
+was that pressing hand released from her mouth.
+Then by the light of the fire she saw that her captor
+was none other than Bill, the Slugger. Panting, she
+lay upon the bed of fir boughs where he had placed her.
+A triumphant light shone upon the man’s face as he
+stepped back to view the girl.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, what d’ye think of that for a job? Neat,
+wasn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>Zell’s fear had now given place to anger, and her
+eyes blazed as she sprang to her feet and faced the
+villain.</p>
+
+<p>“You coward!” she cried. “You should be ashamed
+of yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>“H’m, I’m not worryin’ about that, since I’ve got
+you. If I couldn’t git ye one way, I had to try some
+other plan.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>“You wouldn’t talk so big if my father were here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mebbe I wouldn’t, me love. But he ain’t here, so
+he don’t matter. But, say, Zell, why can’t ye like me?
+I’m crazy about you, an’ if ye’ll only let me, I’ll do
+well by ye. I’ll take ye outside an’ show ye the wonderful
+sights, an’ buy ye no end of purty dresses, an’
+sich things as women like. I swear I will.”</p>
+
+<p>He stepped toward her as if to clasp her in his arms.
+But Zell drew back and stood on the defensive.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t touch me,” she warned. “I hate you, Bill,
+and you know it. If you love me, why did you shoot
+Tim?”</p>
+
+<p>“’Cause I love ye, of course. I couldn’t bear to see
+anyone else have ye. That’s why.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, if you thought you could get me by shooting
+Tim, then you were mistaken. I love Tim as much as
+I hate you, so there.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ain’t ye afraid to say sich a thing, Zell?” the man
+asked, while an ugly light leaped into his eyes. “Can’t
+ye see that yer at my mercy now, an’ that I kin do
+what I like with ye?”</p>
+
+<p>“Can you?” The girl asked the question boldly, but
+her heart was beating wildly. She realised only too
+well how true were the man’s words. Then she suddenly
+thought of something tucked away in a little
+pocket in the bosom of her dress. It gave her new
+encouragement. Yes, she would shoot him if necessary,
+although she did not wish to commit murder.
+She knew that he always carried a revolver, and could
+use it with lightning rapidity. She must act with extreme
+caution.</p>
+
+<p>“Zell, I don’t want to use force,” the man said, “an’
+so I ask ye once more if ye’ll be mine. If ye will,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>then we’ll go an’ git the missionary at The Gap to
+hitch us up.”</p>
+
+<p>“Never!” The girl’s voice rang out clear and defiant
+upon the still night air. She knew the man standing
+before her, and was fully aware that he was not
+sincere in his promises. He wanted her just to satisfy
+his passion, and then he would throw her aside as he
+had done a number of Indian girls he had deceived.
+She must stand her ground, and not give in to him.</p>
+
+<p>As Zell uttered her stern refusal, the man calmly
+folded his arms and watched her. His greedy eyes
+took in her beauty, and the varying expressions upon
+her face, and the firm, lithe outlines of her tense body.
+He smiled, feeling certain that nothing now could come
+between him and the object of his desire.</p>
+
+<p>“So that’s final, is it?” he at length asked.</p>
+
+<p>“It is,” was the firm reply.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, then you’ll have to put up with the result.
+You are mine, and by G—, nothing can keep you from
+me.”</p>
+
+<p>He sprang suddenly forward as if to seize her. But
+Zell was watching, and quick as a cat she leaped aside,
+eluded his grasp, and sprang out upon the trail. With
+an angry oath, the man dashed after her. At times
+Zell glanced fearfully back, and noted that her pursuer
+was steadily gaining upon her. At length, seeing that
+she could not escape by flight, she suddenly stopped,
+wheeled, tore the revolver from her bosom and fired.
+With a yell of pain the man dropped upon the trail.
+In an instant he was on his knees, his revolver in his
+hand, blazing madly and wildly at the girl, once more
+fleeing for her life. Only when the firing ceased, and
+Zell was certain that she was at a safe distance, did she
+venture to stop and look back. She could see Bill on
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>the trail, upon his hands and knees, creeping, so it
+seemed to her, back to the fire. She breathed a sigh
+of relief, and tucked the revolver away in the bosom of
+her dress. A smile of triumph overspread her face as
+she thought of Bill’s defeat, and the unexpected outcome
+of his plans. She was glad, though, that she had
+not killed him. But she must have wounded him
+severely to cause him to cry out as he did, and give up
+the pursuit.</p>
+
+<p>The smile of triumph, however, passed swiftly from
+her face as she realised the difficult position in which
+she was placed. She must get back to the white woman
+as soon as possible. But she did not dare to return
+by the trail, for that would mean passing close to the
+man she had defied and wounded. He would make
+short work of her, she was certain, should she come
+within range of his revolver. The only plan left was
+to leave the trail, and circle around toward her own
+camping-place. She believed that she could do this
+without great difficulty, for most of the time she could
+travel among the big trees where the snow would not
+be so deep. If she only had her snow-shoes it would
+be an easy matter. She knew how anxious the nurse
+must be about her, so she was anxious to get back as
+soon as possible.</p>
+
+<p>With another glance to make sure that Bill was not
+following her, she left the trail, plunged through the
+snow, and headed for the big trees beyond. It took her
+some time to do this, for the snow was deep and at
+times she was forced to stop and rest. But when she
+at last reached the heavy timber she breathed a sigh
+of relief. She felt safer now, being certain that it
+would not take her long to make her way to the camp.
+The walking was much easier here, and she sped on her
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>way, gliding noiselessly among the great trees. Her
+only fear now was of wolves, and she shuddered whenever
+she thought of the brutes which had attacked
+them that night. She wondered who had shot them,
+and why he had not made himself known. It could not
+have been Bill, as he would have said something about
+it. No, it must have been someone else, and she racked
+her brain in an effort to solve the mystery.</p>
+
+<p>Although Zell was well accustomed to the trails, she
+knew very little about travelling through a trackless
+forest. Her years of training at the mission school
+had not prepared her for this phase of life. It was one
+thing to bound behind a team of dogs along a well-beaten
+trail, but it was an altogether different matter
+to find her way without a single guiding mark. She
+did not realise this, however, as she sped forward,
+expecting every minute to come in sight of the camp.
+She pictured the joy upon the nurse’s face when she
+saw her, and what a story she would have to tell.</p>
+
+<p>After she had travelled for some time and the camping-place
+had not been reached, she became somewhat
+anxious. She passed out of the heavy timber and
+came to the side of a hill where the trees were small
+and scarce. Here the snow was much deeper, making
+her progress difficult. The moon was shining big and
+bright, so she could see for some distance. Ahead, off
+to the left, was a thick wood, and there, so she believed,
+she would find the nurse. When she reached the place
+she was very weary, and could just drag herself out of
+the deep snow to the foot of a large pine. After she
+had rested a while, she continued on her way, moving
+slowly among the trees. Here there was little light,
+for the moon was not able to brighten those sombre
+depths. More anxious now than ever, she strained her
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>eyes for sight of the blazing fire, as she felt sure that
+the nurse would not allow it to go out. How interminable
+seemed that forest. The cold was intense, and
+notwithstanding her vigorous exercise, she shivered.
+She longed to lie down and rest, but such a thing she
+did not dare to do, knowing full well what that would
+mean.</p>
+
+<p>At length, however, she was forced to sit down upon
+the root of a tree. She knew now that she was lost,
+and the thought filled her heart with terror. She had
+heard her father tell of men who had been lost in the
+forest and had never been heard of again. Would the
+same thing happen to her? she asked herself. No, it
+must not be. She would not die there alone. She
+would struggle on, and fight her way out.</p>
+
+<p>But she soon found what it really meant to carry out
+such a resolve. It was a vast, desolate wilderness in
+which she was wandering, and she was but a speck
+creeping among the crowding trees. An hour passed
+and still Zell dragged forward her weary body. No
+longer was she the keen, active girl who had left Big
+Chance but a short time before. Instead, she was a
+pathetic creature, reaching out appealing arms, calling,
+ever calling for aid which did not come. Once she had
+dropped upon her knees in the snow and prayed earnestly
+for deliverance. She remembered that the missionary
+had often told the girls at the school that God
+would hear their prayers. She had prayed rather indifferently
+of late, but she now prayed as she had never
+prayed in her life. It brought her some comfort as
+she rose from her knees and staggered onward. But
+she could not make much progress. She was completely
+bewildered. She knew that she could follow
+her trail back, but she had not the strength. Ere long
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>she forgot even this as she floundered around in the
+snow. Strange noises sounded in her ears. She was
+sure that she heard the howling of wolves, and she
+shivered with fear. At times she was fighting with an
+imaginary enemy, and again shouting at the top of her
+voice. All sense of time and place was blotted out for
+her now as she stood knee-deep in the snow. She did
+not heed the merciless cold, nor the desolation of her
+surroundings. She was in another world of strange
+fancies. Sometimes she was with Tim, calling him
+endearing names, or pleading with him to come to her.
+Then she was at the mission school, talking and laughing
+with her companions.</p>
+
+<p>But this excitement only tended to weaken her
+already tired body. Ere long her knees gave way beneath
+her. She sank upon the snow, and made no
+effort to rise. And there she lay, babbling of other
+days, while the pitiless cold struck deeper and deeper
+into her chilled body.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 11<br>
+<small>Where Strength Counts</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">WHEN Hugo left the rock and fled from the
+presence of his enemies, he wished to get as
+far away as possible. But before doing so, he was
+determined to see Marion. He could not leave her
+alone in the cabin, so if she agreed he would endeavor
+to take her to The Gap. He would be running a great
+risk, he was well aware, but he could not do otherwise.
+How he longed to go to her, speed with her to Swift
+Stream and thence outside. But he knew that would
+have to be postponed for a while, and perhaps for all
+time.</p>
+
+<p>He thought of this as he hurried on his way beneath
+the brow of the high hill, taking special care to keep
+out of sight of the Police. When he was sure that he
+would not be observed, he cautiously approached the
+trail, sped across it, and plunged into the thick woods
+on the lower side. Had he gone a couple of hundred
+yards farther on he would have come across the
+straggling trail made by the half-breed girl when she,
+too, had sought the shelter of those friendly trees.
+Of this Hugo was totally unaware as he moved rapidly
+forward. At times he was but a few rods from where
+Zell had travelled. Had Hugo swung a little more to
+the right, and the girl somewhat more to the left, their
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>trails would have met, and how much that would have
+meant to one, at least.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Oh, the little more, and how much it is!</div>
+<div class="verse">And the little less, and what worlds away.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>To Hugo the trackless wilds were as an open book,
+and he was as sure of his course as if on a well-beaten
+trail. Years of experience had developed his sense of
+direction, and he pressed steadily onward without the
+slightest hesitation. It was only when he came near
+his cabin did he slacken his speed and peer cautiously
+forward and around. Silence reigned everywhere as
+he stepped from his snow-shoes, pushed gently open
+the door and entered. The dog bounded to meet him,
+but Hugo motioning him to be still, looked toward the
+bunk. Marion was lying where he had left her, but
+she was now awake. She smiled as she saw her father
+standing there. Then she sat quickly up, an anxious
+expression showing in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you find Zell?” she asked. “Oh, I know you
+didn’t,” she added. “She is not with you.”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t find her,” Hugo replied. “I have proof,
+though, that she was carried off by someone.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh!” It was all that Marion said, as she waited
+for further information.</p>
+
+<p>In a few words Hugo told her what he had discovered,
+the signs of struggle in the snow, and the
+blood marks by the ashes of the camping-place.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, what can we do?” Marion asked, slipping from
+the bunk and standing before her father. “Can we not
+follow her, and rescue her from her captors?”</p>
+
+<p>Before Hugo could reply, a bark from the dog, which
+had gone outside, startled him, causing him to bound to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>the door. For a second he listened intently, and when
+he turned around Marion was surprised at the fierce
+look in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“The Police!” he growled. “They’re coming up the
+trail! I must be off at once. They’ll look after you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, don’t go,” Marion pleaded. “I don’t want to
+lose you. Why are you so afraid of the Police?”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo made no reply. He left the room, stepped into
+his snow-shoes, and ordering the dog to remain behind,
+plunged into a thicket of firs and jack-pines on the
+upper side of the cabin. His heart was filled with
+bitterness and hatred as he moved forward. For years
+he had been fleeing from the Police, ever hounded from
+place to place. Formerly it had not mattered so much,
+as he had refuges to which he could go. But now it
+was different. He wanted to stay with Marion and
+give up his endless wandering life. But it could not
+be. The Police were everywhere, tireless and alert.</p>
+
+<p>Ascending the hill which stretched along back of the
+cabin, he at length stopped at a spot where he could
+obtain a fairly good view of what was taking place
+down below. He saw the Police come to the trail
+leading to the cabin, where they paused to investigate.
+He could see Sergeant North advancing alone, so he
+knew that he would soon be with Marion. That she
+meant anything to him Hugo had not the least idea.
+Had he known of their love for each other, his troubles
+would have been greatly increased. Would Marion
+tell the sergeant of his whereabouts? What reason
+would she have for keeping silent?</p>
+
+<p>He thought of all this as he crouched there. Then,
+knowing that to remain longer would be of no avail,
+he slipped away, sped along the side of the hill, and
+crossed the main trail half a mile or more farther on.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>Far away beyond the valley he had another cabin, and
+there he decided to go for food and rest.</p>
+
+<p>Shaping his course by a distant mountain peak, he
+strode rapidly onward. Anger and disappointment
+raged in his bosom, as with great swinging strides he
+plowed through the snow down toward the valley
+below. He did not mind the cold, neither did the
+sombre forest have any terror for him. In fact, he
+would have welcomed another encounter with a pack
+of wolves. He was in a fighting mood and would have
+proven a stern antagonist to any living creature attempting
+to oppose him.</p>
+
+<p>Passing through a heavy tract of timber he came out
+into a region where the trees were small and scattered.
+Here the snow was deep and in places it had been
+whipped by the wind in long drifts. Part way across
+this desolate stretch he came suddenly upon a straggling
+trail which caused him to stop and examine it with the
+greatest attention. He could easily tell that it was
+made by a human being floundering wildly along. He
+looked first to the right and then to the left, wondering
+which way the traveller had gone.</p>
+
+<p>“What in time could anyone be doing here without
+snow-shoes?” he asked himself. “Why, the fellow
+must be crazy!”</p>
+
+<p>Then an illuminating idea flashed through his mind.
+It must be the half-breed girl! She had no doubt
+escaped from her captor, and in trying to get back to
+her camping-place had lost her way. But where was
+Bill? Why had he not followed her? Then he thought
+of the blood he had seen upon the snow by the cold
+ashes. Had the girl in some way wounded him? Perhaps
+she was armed, and had disabled the villain.</p>
+
+<p>Thinking thus, he decided that the girl had gone up
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>the valley, and could not be very far away, judging by
+the depth of the snow, and the crookedness of her trail.
+Forgotten were his own troubles as he thought of the
+girl’s desperate situation. He must follow after and
+do what he could for her welfare, providing she were
+still alive.</p>
+
+<p>It did not take Hugo long to speed across the snowy
+waste, and reach a thicket of trees beyond. But at
+every stride his eyes were upon the marks in the snow.
+At times he saw where the girl had circled to the right
+and then to the left, showing plainly the bewildered
+state of her mind. He could not tell how long before
+she had passed that way. If but a few minutes, he
+might be able to save her. But if an hour, or even
+less, had elapsed, he feared he might be too late. But
+with feverish haste he pressed onward, entered the
+thicket, passed through and came out shortly on the
+opposite side. Here he halted and looked around.
+It was a region over which a fire had swept the year
+before, and forms of trees stood gaunt and bare. His
+eyes searched keenly for some moving object in the
+midst of the mass of upturned roots and fallen trees.
+But no sign of life could he see.</p>
+
+<p>He was about to continue his journey when a peculiar
+sound fell upon his ears. Listening intently, he found
+that it came from the left. It was like a human voice,
+yet he could not distinguish what was being said. He
+knew that it must be the girl, and his heart leaped with
+hope as he hurried forward. It took him only a few
+minutes to reach the place where Zell was lying upon
+the snow, still babbling and crooning about other days.</p>
+
+<p>“Hello, girl, what are you doing here?” Hugo demanded.</p>
+
+<p>But Zell gave no sign of recognition. She kept on
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>talking, all the time clawing at the snow with her mittened
+hands. In an instant Hugo knew what was the
+trouble. The girl’s mind was affected by the experience
+through which she had recently passed. He
+stood for a few seconds looking upon her, while an
+overwhelming rage welled up in his heart against the
+villain responsible for her sad condition. He longed
+to track him, and bestow upon him the punishment he
+rightly deserved. But he had no time to think about
+such things now, as the girl demanded his immediate
+attention. He must do something for her welfare.
+But what could he do? He thought of his cabin on
+the hillside which he had left but a short time before.
+That was the place where he should take the girl, for
+Marion was there to attend to her. But to go back was
+out of the question. The Police were there. No, he
+must take the girl to his cabin beyond the valley toward
+which he was headed. It would be a difficult task, he
+was well aware, to carry the girl all that distance. But
+he knew that he could do it, for she was slight while
+he was very strong.</p>
+
+<p>He was about to stoop and lift her from the snow,
+when Zell tottered to her feet, and looked wildly around.
+Her eyes were wide with terror, and she pressed fearfully
+back from some imaginary foe.</p>
+
+<p>“Keep back! Keep back!” she shrieked. “Oh! Oh!”</p>
+
+<p>“Hush,” Hugo ordered, laying his hand upon her
+shoulder. “I won’t let anything harm you.”</p>
+
+<p>But the girl shrank aside at his touch, and beat the
+air with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>“The wolves! The wolves!” she cried. “They are
+upon me! Don’t let them get me!”</p>
+
+<p>To attempt to reason with the girl Hugo knew would
+be useless. He must get her to the cabin as speedily
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>as possible. Stooping, he lifted her from the snow,
+and with her in his arms he started forward. For a
+few minutes Zell struggled and screamed so furiously
+that Hugo found it difficult to make much progress.
+But at length she quieted down, and lay panting in his
+arms. At first he did not mind her weight, but after
+he had travelled some distance he was forced to lay
+her down in the snow to relieve his aching arms. Then
+up and on again over that desolate waste.</p>
+
+<p>The dawn of a new day found Hugo about half a
+mile from his cabin. He was walking slowly now, for
+he was greatly exhausted. His coat he had taken off
+and wrapped it carefully around the girl. Even then
+he feared lest she should freeze, for the night was very
+cold. He even wondered at himself as he bore his
+burden up hills, across valleys, and through thick forests.
+He could not account for his sympathy for this
+poor demented half-breed girl. It was a feeling similar
+to that which had animated his soul when he had
+journeyed with the little child from the river to the
+hospital. Time and time again he had rescued sick
+and injured miners and prospectors, and had taken
+them to the nearest mining camp. He had done it because
+there was nothing else to do, and he could not
+leave them to perish. He had felt a certain degree of
+pity for them, but his heart had never been stirred in
+such a manner as when caring for the child and especially
+the girl. She had been deeply wronged, so perhaps
+that was the reason, for Hugo was ever the
+champion of the ill-treated.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the moon faded off in the west as the weary
+man plodded onward. The sun rose above the mountain
+peaks, and skimmed low along the eastern horizon.
+Ere long Hugo could see the spot where nestled his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>little cabin, and with a great sigh of relief he climbed
+the hill, reached the door, pushed it open and entered.
+Upon a rude bunk on one side of the room he laid the
+helpless girl. Tired though he was, he at once started a
+fire in the little camping-stove, and prepared some food
+from a supply he always kept on hand. In a short
+time he had heated some stewed moose meat left from
+his last meal there, and forced a few spoonfuls between
+the girl’s firm-set teeth. It was all that he could
+do except cover her with two thick gray four-point
+blankets. He stood watching her as she lay there, now
+asleep, worn out with the fatigue of the night. What
+was he to do with her? he wondered. Where could he
+take her? That she needed more attention than he
+could give her, he was certain. But where could he
+go for assistance?</p>
+
+<p>Hugo thought of these things as he ate his supper,
+and afterwards sat smoking near the stove. It felt
+good to be back once more in the shelter of his own
+cabin, and but for his worry about the girl he would
+have felt quite happy. He mused upon the events of
+the day and wondered how Marion was getting along.
+He was quite sure that she would go away with the
+Police, but just where he had no idea. He did not feel
+so bitter now about being driven forth into the night.
+If he had remained there with Marion the half-breed
+girl would surely have perished. During his long sojourn
+in the wilderness Hugo had often puzzled over
+the mystery of life. Notwithstanding his spirit of
+rebellion for man-made law, deep down in his heart
+there was a profound respect for the unchanging law
+of Nature. As he journeyed along the trails; as he
+watched the western sky burnished with the glory of
+the setting sun; as he faced the furious storms of winter,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>or stood in some great silent valley, he had learned
+over and over again that there was no effect without
+some corresponding cause. He never could believe that
+things happened according to blind chance. Several
+times he had tried to force himself to that way of
+thinking, but all in vain. The great book spread out
+before him was so unmistakably clear that he could
+never remain in doubt for any length of time.</p>
+
+<p>So sitting now in the silent cabin he thought of the
+events which had led him to the side of that lost girl.
+At first appearance it seemed as if those two guardians
+of the North were the cause. But the more he thought
+about it, the more convinced he became that they were
+but instruments in the hands of a greater force, a
+Divine power overruling all things. What had led them
+so unerringly that night from the distant trail where
+he had seen them the day before? What had changed
+their course? He could arrive at only one conclusion,
+and it filled his soul with awe. It thrilled him, too,
+making him feel that he was surrounded by a sustaining
+influence working on his behalf. He suddenly thought
+of the night he had spent in the shack with the sleeping
+child, and the wonderful vision he had there beheld of
+the mysterious light, and the strange presence hovering
+over the little one.</p>
+
+<p>For some time Hugo sat there, thinking of these
+things. The transformation which had been going on
+in his soul of late was steadily gaining in strength. A
+new vision had come to him, and with the vision was
+a new desire. He felt that he was no longer merely
+Hugo, the trapper, the outcast, but an instrument in
+the hands of an unseen power. He looked toward the
+sleeping girl, and felt that in some way she was being
+used as an important instrument in the shaping of his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>life. And as he watched her, his future line of action
+became strangely clear, and a new sense of power
+possessed his entire being.</p>
+
+<p>Rising suddenly from his seat, he passed out of the
+cabin and laid his hands upon a small toboggan half-buried
+in the snow. This he carried into the room, and
+placed it near the stove. When it was well thawed
+out and dry, he began to repair the broken parts.
+With strong moose-hide thongs he deftly repaired
+the damages wrought by many a hard trail. He then
+laid the toboggan aside, stepped across the room and
+examined his scanty supply of provisions upon a rough
+shelf fastened to the wall.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 12<br>
+<small>Confession</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap2">AFTER Hugo had left the cabin on the hillside in
+such an abrupt manner, Marion stood for a few
+seconds greatly concerned over his strange action.
+Then she hurried to the little window and tried to look
+out. But the frost was so thick upon the small panes
+of glass that she could see nothing. She listened intently,
+and in a few seconds heard the jingle of bells
+mingled with the short sharp yelps of dogs. Her
+father had spoken of the Police, but she had no idea
+that any members of the Force were anywhere near.
+Could it be possible that the one for whom she so
+earnestly longed had happened that way? Had he
+tracked her father to the little cabin? If so, what
+should she do? Would it be right for her to tell the
+sergeant that he had just left her?</p>
+
+<p>Marion had little time, however, to think of such
+things, for soon the door was pushed open and Sergeant
+North looked cautiously in. In his right hand
+he held a revolver as if expecting opposition. As he
+stood waiting for the owner of the cabin to approach,
+Marion stepped from the window and confronted him.
+So great was the sergeant’s surprise that he moved
+quickly back as if he had beheld a ghost. Then seeing
+who it was, he thrust his weapon into its holster, and
+springing forward, caught Marion in his arms. Their
+lips met and for a few heart-beats neither spoke.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>“My! this is a surprise,” North exclaimed as he
+drew back his head and looked into her beaming eyes.
+“I was expecting something altogether different from
+this.”</p>
+
+<p>“You were looking for trouble, from all appearances,”
+Marion laughingly replied. “I’m glad you have
+put that nasty thing away. I don’t like it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I was looking for trouble,” North confessed, “although,
+for once I’m glad I didn’t find it.”</p>
+
+<p>“But perhaps you have found it,” Marion bantered.
+“You have found me, and I’m certain that I’m going
+to be the greatest trouble of all.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll like you all the better, then,” and again North
+kissed her. “You cannot frighten me that way, remember.
+Facing trouble has been my lot for years,
+and I’ve not had too much of it yet.”</p>
+
+<p>“But this is a different kind, John. You are thinking
+only about men. Just wait and see what trouble
+one woman can make.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I’m not worrying about that, darling,” the sergeant
+assured her with a hearty laugh. “It will be a
+change, anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>Rolfe’s voice outside speaking sharply to the dogs
+brought a serious expression to North’s face. Love for
+the moment had interfered with duty, and that was
+contrary to the strict code to which he was bound.</p>
+
+<p>“Where is the man who owns this cabin?” he suddenly
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I do not know,” Marion truthfully replied.</p>
+
+<p>“But he was here a short time ago, was he not?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“And he brought you here?”</p>
+
+<p>“He did. But for him I do not know what I should
+have done. Tell me, have you seen Zell?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>“Zell! Zell who?”</p>
+
+<p>“The half-breed girl who was travelling with me.
+We were camping by the side of the trail, and after the
+wolves had been shot, she went for some wood. But
+she never came back, and I am afraid she is either lost
+or something has carried her off.”</p>
+
+<p>“And did those wolves now lying dead down there
+attack you?” North asked in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“They did. Oh, it was terrible!”</p>
+
+<p>“Who shot them?”</p>
+
+<p>“Hugo, the trapper. The wolves surrounded us,
+coming closer and closer all the time, and when they
+were about to spring upon us, some one began shooting
+at them. We could not see who it was, although I
+know now that it was the trapper. He carried me part
+way here.”</p>
+
+<p>“He did!” There was a peculiar expression in the
+sergeant’s eyes as he kept them fixed upon Marion’s
+face.</p>
+
+<p>“So it was Hugo,” he mused. “It’s too bad I wasn’t
+on hand sooner.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what would you have done, John?” Marion
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Rescued you, of course.”</p>
+
+<p>“Anything else?”</p>
+
+<p>“And captured Hugo.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why?”</p>
+
+<p>“I want him. He’s the man I’m after, and I shall
+never give up until I get him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why are you chasing him? What has he done?”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s what I want to find out. He is needed in
+connection with that murder near the C. D. Cut-Off.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe he did that,” Marion defended. “He
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>may be rough, but he would never do such a terrible
+thing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why has he acted in such a strange manner, then?
+Why didn’t he report the murder when he brought the
+child to the hospital? And why is he now running
+away?”</p>
+
+<p>“Hasn’t he been keeping away from the Police for
+years, long before that murder was committed? I
+often heard at Kynox that he dreaded the sight of a
+member of the Force. Haven’t you been after him for
+a long time?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, no,” the sergeant denied. “We had no orders
+to capture him. We always looked upon him as a
+strange man, rough, and terrible in a fight, but otherwise
+perfectly harmless.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have orders to capture him now, though?”</p>
+
+<p>“In a way I have. He may be innocent, but he must
+tell what he knows about that murder.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you intend to follow him?”</p>
+
+<p>“I certainly do. But we cannot go just now, for the
+dogs are about played out. We travelled hard all last
+night, without rest or food. But here comes Tom.
+He’s almost starved, and so am I.”</p>
+
+<p>The constable was surprised and pleased to see Marion.
+He was very tired, and the presence of this
+woman gave a touch of home life to the cabin. Marion
+insisted upon preparing breakfast with some of the
+provisions the men had brought with them. There was
+no table in the room, so North and Rolfe squatted upon
+the floor, each holding his tin plate on his lap which
+Marion had filled with hot canned pork and beans.</p>
+
+<p>“There is not much style about this,” she laughingly
+remarked.</p>
+
+<p>“Style!” the constable exclaimed. “To have a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>woman serve us is all the style I want. Why, I’ve
+been cooking for months, and am heartily sick of it.
+I would give almost anything to be back in my own
+home, to see my mother working around the kitchen,
+and to hear her say, ‘Tom, will you have another piece
+of pie?’ I never fully appreciated her and her cooking
+until I came to this canned-food country.”</p>
+
+<p>Both Marion and the sergeant laughed heartily at
+the doleful expression upon Rolfe’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom never wearies of telling about his mother’s
+wonderful cooking,” the sergeant explained. “I wish
+to goodness he had taken a few lessons from her before
+he left home.”</p>
+
+<p>“You eat all I cook, though,” the constable retorted.</p>
+
+<p>“I have to or starve. You won’t let me do any
+cooking, although I am in command.”</p>
+
+<p>“Self-preservation is a strong feature in my make-up,
+Miss Brisbane. The sergeant is teachable for all that,
+so with little tact you may be able to train him properly.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a fine spirit of comradeship between these
+two men, who spent so much time together on the long
+trails. They knew each other thoroughly, and their
+light banter was merely an offset to the difficulty and
+seriousness of their tasks. The commanding officer
+who had sent them forth together had made no mistake
+in his knowledge of men. Rolfe’s bright and
+buoyant disposition was an excellent balance to North’s
+stern and somewhat taciturn nature.</p>
+
+<p>When breakfast was over, Rolfe insisted upon washing
+the few dishes. He then spread out his blankets
+in one corner of the room, and stretched out his tired
+body. Marion and North sat near the stove side by
+side. For a while they were silent, rejoicing in each
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>other’s presence, for silence is often more eloquent than
+many words. When at length Rolfe’s heavy breathing
+told them that he was asleep, North reached out, took
+Marion’s right hand in his, and pressed it firmly.</p>
+
+<p>“It is great to be here so near you,” he began. “You
+have been so much in my mind, and I was wondering
+how you were making out at Big Chance. Never for
+an instant did I picture you away out here. Tell me
+all about it.”</p>
+
+<p>“There really isn’t much to tell other than what you
+already know,” Marion replied. “I am so worried
+about that poor girl. I am sure that something has
+happened to her. And she was so anxious about her
+injured lover, Tim, and wanted to get to the missionary
+at The Gap for help as fast as possible.”</p>
+
+<p>“And so you came with her for company? Is that
+it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no,” Marion replied in a low voice. “I heard
+something at Big Chance which worried me, so I came
+along hoping to find you and to warn you.”</p>
+
+<p>“To warn me!” North exclaimed in surprise. “What
+for?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, to warn you against danger. I heard something
+about Bill, the Slugger. From what Zell told
+me, I fear that he intends to do you some harm. At
+first the girl hesitated about telling me anything. She
+was terribly afraid of Bill, and begged me not to say a
+word to you lest he should kill her.”</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant was all attention now, eager to hear
+more. He believed that the half-breed girl knew something
+which was most important for him to know.</p>
+
+<p>“Did she say anything about that murder near the
+C. D. Cut-Off?” he questioned.</p>
+
+<p>“Not directly. But when I asked her if Bill did it,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>she gave a start, and glanced anxiously toward the
+door. ‘I don’t dare to tell,’ she said. ‘Bill would kill
+me if I did.’”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah!” The sergeant was looking straight before him,
+and his eyes were merely two narrow slits. He was
+thinking rapidly, comprehending things which he had
+never suspected.</p>
+
+<p>“What else did the girl say?” he presently asked.</p>
+
+<p>“She begged me not to tell you for fear of what Bill
+might do. She said he was getting ready for a trip,
+and was almost frightened out of his wits while you
+were at Big Chance. Zell, it seems, was secretly watching
+him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Had she any idea where he was going?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. She was certain that he was planning to
+leave the country by way of The Gap, and cross the
+mountains.”</p>
+
+<p>“I see, I see,” North mused. “Yes, a most likely
+thing for him to do. My, this is important news to
+me, you have helped me wonderfully.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you will follow him?” There was a quiver in
+Marion’s voice. “Oh, do be careful! Zell said that
+Bill was such a bad man that he would stop at nothing,
+and would even shoot a member of the Force if he
+opposed him.”</p>
+
+<p>“And so you started out to warn me, eh?” North
+queried. “Did you realise the risks you were running?
+Did you stop to think what a trip to The Gap would
+mean at this time of the year? Why, it almost unnerves
+me to think of what might have happened to
+you. It is mighty lucky that you have come off so
+well.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am afraid that I didn’t think much about the risk,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>but acted merely upon the impulse of the moment when
+I agreed to come with Zell.”</p>
+
+<p>“And so you did all this for my sake?” North asked,
+pressing Marion’s hand a little firmer. “I am sure that
+no one else in the world would do such a thing for me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Love nerves the most timid, John, and transforms
+weakness into strength. But I have a confession to
+make now which no doubt will surprise you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Make all the confession you like, little one,” was
+the quiet reply. “What confession can you make that
+will interfere with our great love?”</p>
+
+<p>“I hope it won’t, anyway,” and Marion gave a deep
+sigh. North noted this and looked somewhat anxiously
+into her face.</p>
+
+<p>“Is it as serious as all that?” he asked. “Is it troubling
+you much?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is, and has been worrying me for days. How
+would you like to be told that you do not share all my
+love?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, Marion, what do you mean?” North demanded.
+“Or are you only joking?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I am not. I am deadly in earnest. I came out
+here not only for your sake but for the sake of another
+man as well.”</p>
+
+<p>“You did!” It was all that North could say as he
+dropped Marion’s hand and stared at her in amazement.
+“For God’s sake, who is it? Tell me quick.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is the man who brought me to this cabin.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! Hugo, the trapper?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, he is the man. I came to warn you not only
+against Bill, the Slugger, but to keep you and the trapper
+from harming each other. I did it because I love
+you both.”</p>
+
+<p>“Marion! Marion! What do you mean?” North
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>demanded, rising to his feet in his agitation. “You
+love Hugo, the trapper, you say?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do, and I have a right to because he is my
+father.”</p>
+
+<p>At this confession, made in a low voice, North’s
+tense body relaxed. His eyes brightened, and a smile
+illumined his face. Sitting down again by Marion’s
+side, he tenderly placed his arm about her and drew
+her close.</p>
+
+<p>“So that was your trouble, darling, was it?” he
+asked. “Well, now that your confession is made, don’t
+worry any more. It is startling, I admit, and I know
+you will explain everything to me. I am so glad it was
+your father and not somebody else.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I feel so relieved,” Marion replied, letting her
+head rest against her lover’s shoulder. There were
+tears in her eyes, and her body was trembling slightly.
+“I know it won’t make any difference to you in carrying
+out your orders, but it will help us to work together,
+will it not?”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed it will,” was the emphatic reply. “Knowing
+what I do now about Bill, the Slugger, and also who
+Hugo is, certain difficulties have been removed. I see
+quite a clear trail ahead of me, thanks to your love and
+help.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 13<br>
+<small>The Rush of Doom</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THE gigantic mass of the Golden Horn was a deceptive
+monster. From all quarters it formed
+an unerring guide to travellers on the trails. Its towering
+peak when touched by the sun was the admiration
+of all who beheld it. From a distance it often seemed
+like a fairy land, especially when sun and wavering
+clouds became entangled in a mesh of surpassing glory.
+But to veterans of the north, both Indians and whites,
+it was a demon to be feared when the snows of numerous
+winter storms lay thick upon its sides. Huge
+banks, steadily increasing, would cling for weeks, and
+sometimes months, in deep crevices. When at last the
+weight became so tremendous that the mass could hold
+no longer, it would slip from its place with the roar of
+thunder, and tear down the mountain side. At times
+it would start without any apparent reason, even in
+the finest of weather, carrying destruction to all before
+it. In former days the Indians looked upon the Golden
+Horn as the special abode of the Great Spirit. When
+he smiled in the glory of the sun-crowned summit they
+were happy, knowing that the god was pleased. But
+when he raged in the furious tempests, and hurled
+forth his avalanches of death-dealing snow, then he
+was angry, and they offered to him gifts of meat, furs,
+and blankets. As a rule they shunned in winter the
+mountain route between the Great River and The Gap,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>preferring the longer way beyond the valley. But some
+hardy souls, especially among the whites, made use of
+the dangerous trail, and laughed at the fears of others.</p>
+
+<p>The day of Marion’s confession in the little cabin the
+Golden Horn never looked more beautiful or benign.
+It seemed to smile its benediction on all sides, especially
+upon the lovers as they stood before the cabin ready to
+depart for The Gap, whither they had decided to go.
+All, excepting the sergeant, were rested, dinner had
+been eaten, and the dogs harnessed, with Zell’s four
+added to the team. With Marion on the sled surrounded
+by blankets, small bags of food, and a few
+cooking utensils, the command “mush on” was given,
+the whip in North’s hand snapped like a pistol shot,
+and they were off. How the dogs did race over the
+snow. They seemed to be conscious of the burden they
+bore, and the need for haste. Notwithstanding the
+sense of security with the strong men following, Marion’s
+heart was heavy. She was ever thinking of Zell,
+and her unbounded animation the day they had pulled
+out from Big Chance. Where was the girl now? she
+wondered. Was she lying somewhere upon the snow,
+silent in death? Perhaps she had fallen among wolves,
+or worse still into the hands of Bill, the Slugger. The
+sergeant had told her about that other camping-place
+he had found by the side of the trail, which had not
+been there the evening she and Zell passed that way.
+It could not have been made by her father, she was
+certain, because his own little cabin was so near. No,
+some one must have been following them, and had
+made off with the half-breed girl.</p>
+
+<p>North’s thoughts, too, were of a serious nature.
+He had many things to think about since his conversation
+with Marion in the cabin. What connection had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>her father with that murder? Why did he fear the
+Police if he were innocent? But he had been fleeing
+from them for years, so it seemed. And where was
+Bill, the Slugger? He strongly suspected him now in
+connection with that murder. It was most likely that
+he would try to escape by way of The Gap, for to try
+any other easterly route to reach the outside in the winter
+time would be madness. It was important, therefore,
+that he should reach The Gap ahead of the villain.
+And where was the half-breed girl? He needed her,
+for she evidently knew a great deal. Perhaps Bill
+would have her with him, and if so, he could take both
+together. For the present he would abandon his pursuit
+of Hugo, the trapper. He could get him later to
+tell what he knew after he had rounded up Bill and the
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>Steadily the dogs raced the low sun out of the
+heavens that short winter afternoon. Twilight tarried
+for a space, and then night enshrouded the land. And
+with the darkness came a halt, a camping-place was
+selected, and preparations made for the night. Soon,
+in a snug lean-to, Marion sat upon a robe spread over
+a bed of fir boughs. Rolfe attended to the cooking of
+the supper, and ere long the appetizing odor of frying
+moose-meat steak pervaded the air. He refused to
+allow Marion to assist, contending that he was going to
+prove to her the falseness of the sergeant’s charge.</p>
+
+<p>“He says I can’t cook,” he remarked as he turned
+the meat in the frying-pan. “But I’m going to let you
+judge for yourself, Miss Brisbane. That will be the
+best answer I can make.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Tom is putting on his best frills now,” North
+retorted, straightening himself from his work of building
+another lean-to on the opposite side of the fire.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>“When he has a woman to cook for, he is mighty particular.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s well that I am along, then,” Marion smilingly
+replied. “But you don’t look starved,” she reminded,
+glancing admiringly at the stalwart, handsome man
+before her.</p>
+
+<p>When Rolfe had the meat browned to his satisfaction,
+the “sourdough” potatoes fried, and the tea made,
+he called aloud, “Dinner all ready on the dining-car.
+That’s what an Indian guide I once had always used
+to say,” he explained. “If you can’t have certain
+things, it is often good to imagine that you have them.
+That was the way with my Indian.”</p>
+
+<p>After supper was over, the dogs were fed, and the
+constable gathered a supply of wood for the night.
+Then around the bright fire the three sat and talked for
+some time. It was not of the North they talked, but of
+bygone days in their old homes. It was a comfort to
+turn for a time from the cruel trail and the hardships
+of a desolate, snow-bound region to other scenes,
+glorified and made beautiful by the sacred fire of
+memory.</p>
+
+<p>At length they slept, Marion in her little lean-to,
+and the men in the other. Silence reigned over the land,
+broken only by the crackling of the fire or the snapping
+of a frost-stung tree. The dogs made no sound
+as they slept curled up close to the fire. Not a breath
+of wind stirred the most sensitive topmost points of
+the firs and jack-pines. The sky was cloudless, and
+the Northern Lights streamed and wavered in the
+heavens. Above towered the Golden Horn, silent and
+unseen.</p>
+
+<p>As the night wore on, the fire died down, until only
+a few glowing ashes remained. Sergeant North stirred
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>in his sleep and drew his blanket closer around his
+body. Then he woke with a start, and sat bolt upright.
+What was that peculiar sound away to the left? He
+listened with straining ears, and in an instant he understood
+its meaning. It was a snow-slide, sweeping down
+upon them with a roar of thunder! With a yell that
+brought Rolfe to his feet, startled and dazed, North
+leaped across the dying embers, caught Marion in his
+arms, sprang back again, and staggered with his burden
+out upon the trail. No time had he to explain to
+the frightened woman the meaning of his strange
+action, for the roar of the onrushing avalanche was
+becoming louder every instant. He could hear the
+great trees above him crashing before the weight of
+the mighty demon. Could he escape with his precious
+burden? On and on he sped, a wild desperation adding
+strength to his efforts. Then in a twinkling he was
+hurled off his feet, and engulfed in a blinding, smothering
+mass of whirling snow. Away he was carried,
+clutching frantically the form in his arms. He was
+helpless to raise a hand of defense. He felt like a man
+carried onward by a mighty current, now sucking him
+down, then whirling him to the surface. The weight
+pressing upon him was terrible. It was crushing the
+life out of him. At times he could not breathe, and his
+brain reeled in his mad tumultuous rush. But still he
+clutched Marion’s body, fearful lest she should be torn
+from his arms. Then he felt a sudden freedom. The
+pressing weight relaxed, and the invigorating air filled
+his lungs. One more blinding swish and swirl, and he
+was hurled into something soft, where he lay half-dazed
+and panting.</p>
+
+<p>A low moan aroused him, and with an effort he
+struggled to his knees, and groped around. His hands
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>touched Marion’s body. He had not lost her, but what
+had happened to her during that wild catapulting down
+the hillside? Perhaps she was badly injured. Weak
+though he was, he caught her in his arms, and lifted
+her partly from the snow which entangled her.</p>
+
+<p>“Marion! Marion! are you hurt?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Receiving no reply, a great fear swept over him.
+Was she dead! He put his ear close to her face and
+listened. She was breathing, but so low that he could
+hardly detect it. Then he straightened up, and looked
+anxiously around. What was he to do? How far had
+they been swept in the wild rush? The moon had
+already risen, so he could dimly see the great scar left
+by the snow-slide. It had plowed its way down through
+the forest, and broken trees lined the path the monster
+had taken. He shuddered as he thought of their narrow
+escape. But where was Rolfe? Had he been carried
+down to destruction? The idea was terrible. But
+he had no time now to spend upon vain lamentations.
+Marion needed assistance, and at once. It was no use,
+he well knew, to go back to the trail. Their camp had
+gone, so he might as well stay where he was. Looking
+around, he saw several dead trees. From these he
+broke off a number of dry branches, and brushing
+away the snow from the roots of a big fir, he lighted
+a fire. Scraping back more snow, he cut some boughs
+with his big pocket-knife, and then spread them near
+the cheerful blaze. Here he carried Marion and laid
+her tenderly down. He could see her face plainly now,
+and it was very white. How still she was! Again he
+stooped and listened. Then he kissed her, calling to her,
+and begging her to speak to him.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes he had his reward, for with a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>weary sigh, Marion opened her eyes and looked absently
+into his face.</p>
+
+<p>“Marion! Marion!” he cried. “Don’t you know me?
+It is your own John. Speak to me, and tell me if you
+are hurt.”</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the girl’s senses returned. Seeing who it was
+bending over her, a slight smile overspread her face,
+and her lips moved, although she uttered no sound.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving her, North piled more sticks upon the fire.
+He next cut down an extra supply of boughs, with
+which he fashioned a cozy little lean-to about his loved
+one. For a while she paid no heed to what he was
+doing. Her eyes, however, followed his movements,
+and at last she called faintly to him. With a bound
+the sergeant was at her side, kneeling upon the robe
+and bending tenderly over her.</p>
+
+<p>“Where am I?” Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Right here with me,” North replied. “You are
+safe.”</p>
+
+<p>“What happened, John? I thought the world had
+come to an end.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was a snow-slide. But we were wonderfully
+delivered, just how I do not know now. Are you
+hurt, dear?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I guess not. I am only very weak. But where
+is the constable?”</p>
+
+<p>Then seeing the anxious expression which swept
+over the sergeant’s face, she quickly continued: “Oh,
+I know. He was carried away. Isn’t it terrible!”</p>
+
+<p>“It certainly is, Marion. I am afraid the poor fellow
+was swept down in that wild rush. It was almost
+a miracle that we escaped as we did. Another second
+and it would have been too late.”</p>
+
+<p>For a few heart-beats there was silence, their minds
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>filled with such thoughts which only come to people
+who have stood face to face with death.</p>
+
+<p>“What are we to do, John?” Marion at length asked.
+“I suppose the dogs were lost, too, as well as the camping
+outfit.”</p>
+
+<p>“Everything is gone, no doubt,” was the quiet reply.
+“In all my experience on the trails I have never run up
+against anything like this. Snow-slides are common on
+the mountain side, but hitherto I have always managed
+to escape them.”</p>
+
+<p>“And to think that I should be with you, John, to
+add to your trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t, don’t say that, darling,” North pleaded, as
+he kissed her upon the lips, and was pleased to see the
+color flood her cheeks. “You will be a help to me instead
+of a hindrance. We shall get out of this, all
+right.”</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the sergeant’s words of encouragement,
+he fully realised the seriousness of their situation.
+Twenty miles from The Gap, with no food and
+no dogs, and with a woman unaccustomed to the trail
+made their plight appalling. How helpless they were,
+mere pigmies in that vast wilderness of forest, snow,
+and stinging cold. Then, in addition to all these, should
+a storm sweep upon them, their case would be hopeless.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 14<br>
+<small>Life for Life</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THE sergeant picked up a piece of wood and was
+about to throw it on the fire, when a shout in the
+direction of the trail arrested his attention. He dropped
+the stick, stared in amazement, his heart beating fast.
+At first he thought he must have been mistaken, but
+when the shout was repeated he answered with a whoop
+that echoed through the forest’s silent reaches. Ere
+long he heard the sound of someone plowing his way
+through the snow, straight toward him. In a few
+minutes Rolfe appeared, his face very white, except
+one cheek which was streaked with blood, and his
+clothes torn. For an instant he stared first at the
+sergeant and then at Marion, who had risen to a sitting
+position. Then overcome by weakness and excitement,
+he dropped upon the snow near the fire. His hands
+clawed the air, as if warding off some invisible foe.
+His eyes were big with terror. North stepped to his
+side and laid a firm hand upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, buck up, old man,” he ordered. “You’re all
+right.”</p>
+
+<p>That touch and the friendly word of cheer brought
+Rolfe to his senses. The wild expression left his eyes,
+and his uplifted hands dropped.</p>
+
+<p>“Lord, it was awful!” he moaned. “It was hell let
+loose.”</p>
+
+<p>Then he looked over at Marion.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>“Excuse me, Miss Brisbane,” he apologized. “But
+I am hardly myself after what I have just gone through.
+I am mighty glad, though, to find you and the sergeant
+safe. How in the world did you escape? I was sure
+that you were buried down there in the valley.”</p>
+
+<p>“We do not know how we escaped,” Marion replied,
+while a tremor shook her body. “The Lord must have
+been with us, I guess. But we got off better than you
+did. Something has happened to you. There is blood
+upon your face.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, it’s nothing, I assure you, Miss Brisbane.
+Something hit me a glancing blow, a broken limb of a
+tree, I think, as I was struggling out of the clutch of
+that monster. I was only a few steps behind you, and
+how I got clear I have no idea. It was a terrible fight,
+and I was nearly smothered. Then the first thing I
+knew I was wedged up against a tree till I thought every
+bone in my body was being crushed. I lost consciousness
+and when I came to everything was still, and I
+was lying at the foot of a big fir with snow all around
+me. I was sure that you two were gone and that I
+alone was saved.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why did you shout if you thought we were lost?”
+North asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I hardly know why, except that I was half crazy and
+just whooped. I guess I was just like an infant crying
+in the night, and with no language but a cry. I must
+have done it unconsciously.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was mighty lucky you did, Rolfe, for I never
+thought of looking for you up there. But I don’t think
+you can help us out any. We’re in a bad fix, with not
+a scrap of food.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know it,” the constable replied. “One of us will
+have to foot it, I guess, to The Gap for grub. There’s
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>nothing here. We might get a few rabbits or ptarmigan.
+Now, if I had my rifle, I might get a moose, for
+they’re quite thick down there in the valley along that
+wild meadow. But what can one do with a revolver,
+for that’s all I have left.”</p>
+
+<p>“Same here,” North replied. “I was afraid I had
+lost mine but it’s all right. Now, look, something’s
+got to be done at once if we’re going to have any breakfast.
+You stay here with Marion and keep the fire
+going. I’m anxious to see what pranks that snow-slide
+has cut up where it stopped. I have heard men tell
+queer stories about such things, but always believed
+they were lying. I hope to goodness they weren’t.”</p>
+
+<p>“Will you be gone long, John?” Marion anxiously
+asked. “Don’t run any risk.”</p>
+
+<p>“There is no danger,” North assured. “It should
+not take me many minutes. I hope to get something
+for breakfast.”</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant made his way to the great scar caused
+by the snow-slide, and found easy walking here. It
+did not take him long to descend the steep hill, the big
+moon making the night almost as bright as day. He
+was astonished at the havoc which had been wrought
+by the descending monster. Large trees had been
+snapped like pipe stems before the terrific impact of
+thousands of tons of snow and ice, and hurled in a
+confused and gigantic mass down into the valley. He
+followed the course until he came to the level where
+the avalanche had been stayed. When he could proceed
+no farther on the clean-swept way, he plunged into
+the snow to the right and began to circle the heaped-up
+mass. He kept a sharp lookout, hoping to find some
+portion of the camping outfit. But nothing could he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>see. Dogs, food, sleds and provisions had evidently
+been buried far out of sight.</p>
+
+<p>After he had gone some distance, surprised at the
+width of the slide, he decided to return. The snow
+was deep and the travelling difficult. There was nothing
+that he could see except snow and tangled masses of
+trees. He stopped and looked keenly in every direction,
+but not a sign of bird or animal could he see. He
+knew that farther away he might come across something,
+but he had not the strength to battle for any distance
+through such deep snow. Sergeant North was
+not easily discouraged, but a hopeless feeling now smote
+his heart. What was he to do? How could he or Rolfe
+ever reach The Gap without snow-shoes? It would
+take days to go and return with food, but if overtaken
+by a storm, the journey would be impossible. Marion
+could not make the journey, he was well aware, for if a
+strong man accustomed to the trails would find the
+task an Herculean one, what could a frail woman do?
+There was Hugo’s cabin to which they might return.
+But that, too, was a long way back, and they would
+be but little better off when they got there, as far as
+food was concerned.</p>
+
+<p>He thought, too, of the valuable time he was losing.
+Bill, the Slugger, would reach The Gap and escape to
+the mountains far beyond the strong arm of the law.
+What would his commanding officer think of him? He
+knew the stern code of the Force and what was expected
+of every member, and here he was tricked by
+circumstances over which he had no control.</p>
+
+<p>He was about to retrace his steps when a slight noise
+just ahead arrested his attention. He whipped his
+revolver from its holster, and peered forward, keenly
+alert. For a few seconds he could see nothing. Then
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>he noticed a slight movement in the snow near a mass
+of tangled trees. Cautiously advancing, he ere long
+saw something which thrilled his whole being. It was
+a moose, entrapped in the very forefront of the avalanche,
+and feebly threshing its great antlers in its
+death struggle. Drawing nearer, North saw that the
+animal’s hinder parts were caught and crushed beneath
+a heavy tree while the rest of its body was free. He
+knew now that what he had been told was no fiction,
+that moose, bear, deer, and lesser animals were sometimes
+overwhelmed as they sped before the terror of
+the mountains. This animal had evidently been caught
+off guard near where the snow-slide had stopped. That
+the brute had made a desperate fight was most apparent,
+and as North stood watching its now feeble efforts
+a feeling of pity welled up in his heart for this unfortunate
+creature. But what was death to one was life
+to others, so drawing forth his sheath-knife, he at once
+put the animal out of misery.</p>
+
+<p>This sudden and unexpected incident filled North
+with renewed hope. There before him was food to last
+for several days. And the skin, which could be cut
+into long strips, what possibilities lay in that! He did
+not attempt to remove the tree from the body, knowing
+how useless that would be. But after the moose had
+bled freely, with his sharp knife he laid back a portion
+of the skin and cut off several slices of the warm,
+quivering flesh. This took him but a few minutes, and
+he then made his way back to his companions, his heart
+overflowing with joy and thankfulness.</p>
+
+<p>This unexpected help in time of extremity seemed to
+Marion nothing else than providential.</p>
+
+<p>“I was always interested in that story of Elijah in
+the wilderness,” she remarked as she watched the sergeant
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>broiling the meat over several hot coals.
+“Although I never really doubted that the Lord sent
+those ravens to feed him, yet in some way it always
+appeared to me like a fairy tale. But now I know that
+He does care, and will supply our needs.”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess you’re right, Miss Brisbane,” Rolfe agreed,
+as he squatted before the fire. “From the way we have
+been helped it does look reasonable. Now, if ravens,
+or some other birds would come along and leave us
+a little salt to season that meat, and a few loaves of
+bread, it would add a great finishing touch to the whole
+affair.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are too moderate in your wish,” Marion
+smilingly replied. “Why don’t you wish for a roast
+turkey, with all the fixings, and a big plum-pudding
+while you are about it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and oranges, pears, cigars, and such things,”
+North retorted. “That’s the trouble with you, Tom,
+you’re never satisfied. Anyway, there’s nothing but
+this meat for breakfast without any fixings, so you’ve
+got to make the most of it.”</p>
+
+<p>An hour later the three of them started to bring in a
+supply of moose meat. Marion, who was now fully
+recovered, was determined to go, too, and she enjoyed
+the tramp. When she saw the huge mass of snow and
+tangled trees she gave a cry of amazement. But when
+she beheld the body of the moose, her face became very
+pale.</p>
+
+<p>“Isn’t it terrible!” she gasped. “I thought I was
+accustomed to horrible sights, seeing so many in the
+hospitals, but this is somehow different. How that
+poor animal must have struggled to free itself. Nature
+can be so gentle and beautiful at times, and again so
+stern and merciless.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>“I hate it all,” North replied as he drew forth his
+knife, and set to work upon the moose. “Nature, as
+you call it, is always upsetting one’s plans. Look what
+a mess it has got us into here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Master Tennyson said,” Rolfe reminded,</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first2">“‘I curse not nature, no, nor death,</div>
+<div class="verse">For nothing is that errs from law.’”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“Poetry again!” the sergeant growled. “I thought
+you were completely cured. Well, I guess Master
+Tennyson would have done some cursing if he had
+lived in a country such as this. Here, hold back this
+leg while I strip off the hide.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion watched the men until their task was completed.
+They then returned to their camping-place, carrying
+with them the skin of the moose, and large pieces
+of meat. The fire was replenished, and the three sat
+down to rest.</p>
+
+<p>“We must get to The Gap as soon as possible,” the
+sergeant began. “And to do so, we need snow-shoes.
+Tom, you get to work and cut up that skin into long
+strips as narrow as you can. I am going to look for
+some suitable wood. We shall have to manufacture our
+own outfit.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! make snow-shoes?” the constable asked in
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly. They will be clumsy affairs, I admit, but
+they will serve our purpose. Haven’t I told you how
+I made a pair years ago when my dogs made a meal of
+the sinews?”</p>
+
+<p>“But you had the frames left, sergeant.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s true. But as I haven’t frames now, I am
+going to make them. I wish to goodness I had an
+axe. It is difficult to do anything with nothing but a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>knife. Anyway, it can’t be helped, so I must make the
+best of it.”</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant was gone for over half an hour, and
+when he returned he was carrying with him a bundle
+of stout withes, consisting of alders and birch limbs.
+These he threw down near the fire and held his hands
+close to the genial heat. He looked at Marion, who
+was sitting upon the fir boughs, holding one end of a
+strip of the moose hide which the constable was carefully
+slicing. She was interested in her work, glad to
+be of some use. North thought that he never saw her
+look more beautiful, and when she lifted her head and
+saw the expression of admiration in the sergeant’s eyes,
+her cheeks took on a richer hue.</p>
+
+<p>“This life certainly agrees with you,” he remarked.
+“You don’t seem to mind the cold.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not while I have something to do,” was the reply.
+“I am glad to be able to help a little.”</p>
+
+<p>North lost no time, but began at once making the
+frames for the snow-shoes. He worked with feverish
+haste, for every minute was precious. When Marion
+was not busy helping with the cutting of the skin, she
+sat watching him as he peeled the sticks, bent each into
+the proper shape, fastened the two ends together, set in
+the cross-bars, and lashed them securely to the frame.
+The weaving of the web was a more difficult task, but
+the sergeant showed Marion how it should be done, and
+she proved an apt pupil.</p>
+
+<p>“You are to weave your own,” he informed her,
+“while Tom and I do ours. Let us see who will be
+done first.”</p>
+
+<p>Then the friendly rivalry began, which was only
+interrupted as they rested, prepared, and ate some more
+broiled moose meat. This simple repast ended, they
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>continued their work. Marion was the first to finish,
+and triumphantly she held up her snow-shoes for inspection.
+They were but poor clumsy affairs, yet they
+were to serve as means of deliverance.</p>
+
+<p>Although contending with many difficulties, there was
+never one word of complaint uttered. The cold was
+intense, which even the fire could not overcome.
+Huddled as close as possible to the heat, their faces
+would be hot while their backs were chilled. No
+blankets had they to wrap about their bodies. Fir
+boughs were their only protection, and an abundance of
+these the men banked up around Marion, and then made
+a shelter for themselves on the opposite side of the fire.
+That night while the sergeant worked constructing a
+little rude toboggan out of a number of sticks and
+a portion of the frozen moose skin, Rolfe repeated
+numerous poems, to which Marion listened with much
+interest. Piece after piece he recited, grave, stirring
+and gay.</p>
+
+<p>“Poetry has always been my reserve power,” he explained.
+“When I get downhearted, or in a tight
+place, a noble poem stirs me like martial music. There
+are two, especially, which have never failed me yet.
+The first is Newbolt’s ‘Play up, play up, and play the
+game.’ The other is Henley’s masterpiece, ‘The Captain.’
+No doubt you know it, Miss Brisbane, but just
+listen to these words:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="first2">“‘Out of the night that covers me,</div>
+<div class="verse">Black as the pit from pole to pole,</div>
+<div class="verse">I thank whatever gods there be</div>
+<div class="verse">For my unconquerable soul.</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">In the fell clutch of circumstance,</div>
+<div class="verse">I have not winced nor cried aloud,</div>
+<div class="verse">Beneath the bludgeonings of fate,</div>
+<div class="verse">My head is bloody, but unbowed.’”</div>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>“Now, wouldn’t that stir the most discouraged?
+Doesn’t it arouse one, make him stand up, face defeat,
+fight, and win? That is what it has done to me over
+and over again. Now, just listen to this last verse:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first2">“‘It matters not how strait the gate,</div>
+<div class="verse">How charged with punishment the scroll,</div>
+<div class="verse">I am the master of my fate,</div>
+<div class="verse">I am the Captain of my soul.’”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Upon Rolfe’s face was an expression of great determination
+as he ended, and his glowing eyes were looking
+straight before him. To him the words were wonderfully
+real and effective. Marion, too, felt their
+spell, and even the heart of the matter-of-fact sergeant
+experienced a strange thrill.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom, I never appreciated your poetry before,” the
+latter candidly confessed. “To me it was all doggerel,
+but I see it in a different light now. I am really glad
+to see that you have broken out again after your unusually
+long silence.”</p>
+
+<p>The constable’s face beamed with pleasure, and he
+gave a sigh of relief.</p>
+
+<p>“Good for you, sergeant!” he replied. “Now you
+can understand why General Wolfe recited Gray’s
+‘Elegy in a Country Churchyard’ as he moved up the
+river to attack Quebec. We have often argued about
+that, and you always contended it was all nonsense.
+I am glad that you see light at last.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 15<br>
+<small>The Truce of the Storm</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">UNDER the most favourable circumstances a northern
+trail in the dead winter is a test of endurance.
+There is the stinging cold, the weary tread hour after
+hour, up hill and down, with no prospect of a hot supper
+waiting at the end of the day’s march. It is hard
+and discouraging enough then, but how much more
+difficult when the snow-shoes are merely rough, heavy
+makeshifts, the webs too loose to support the feet in a
+proper manner, and the frames occasionally giving way
+beneath the strain. In addition to all this and the weariness,
+to have little to eat, and no comfortable resting
+place at night.</p>
+
+<p>Such were the conditions under which the three wayfarers
+plodded slowly onward the next day. North
+and Rolfe found it hard, but Marion a great deal
+harder. The snow-shoes which had caused her so
+much pride seemed like great clogs to her feet. She
+longed to throw them aside, but that was out of the
+question. So wearily she struggled forward, doing
+her best to keep up with the men, who were even then
+travelling at a snail’s pace for her sake. The sergeant
+longed to help her, but as they were moving in Indian
+file he could do little to assist. Several times he tried to
+walk by her side, holding her arm and letting her lean
+on him for support. But the snow was too deep, and
+each time he floundered around on his wretched snow-shoes,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>and was always glad to get back on the trail
+again.</p>
+
+<p>That day they were able to make only a few miles,
+and camped early, greatly fatigued. Once more little
+brush shelters were made, their meat supper eaten, after
+which they gathered close to the fire for warmth. The
+sergeant was anxious about Marion. She looked more
+weary than he had ever seen her before. But she
+assured him that she was feeling fine, only tired, that
+was all. In the morning she would be once more ready
+for the trail.</p>
+
+<p>“I have been trying Mr. Rolfe’s plan all day,” she
+said, “and have been repeating verses which I learned
+years ago, especially old familiar hymns. It was certainly
+a great help. I thought of what the Bishop of
+the Yukon once told me. You remember how he and
+another man nearly lost their lives in crossing the
+mountains from Fort McPherson. When they were
+in terrible straits, not knowing where they were, worn
+to shadows, and forced to eat their muck-lucks to keep
+life in their bodies, the Bishop was greatly encouraged
+by the words of the hymn ‘Go labour on, spend and be
+spent.’ You can add the Bishop’s testimony and mine,
+Mr. Rolfe, to support your claim of the influence of
+poetry.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed I shall, Miss Brisbane,” the constable declared.
+“When I go outside, if I ever live to get there,
+I am going to give a lecture on the influence of poetry.
+As examples, I shall relate the experiences of you, the
+Bishop, and General Wolfe, as well as my own.”</p>
+
+<p>“What about you, John?” Marion asked, turning to
+the sergeant, who was seated by her side. “Haven’t
+you something to add to such imposing witnesses?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am afraid not,” was the quiet reply. “The only
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>poetry I ever learned was ‘God save the King,’ and but
+one verse of that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ugh! that isn’t poetry, sergeant,” Rolfe retorted.
+“That’s nothing but doggerel.”</p>
+
+<p>“It may be as you say, Tom, but there’s something
+in it, for all that, which stirs the heart. The singing of
+that kept the spirit of loyalty alive in this country, and
+sent hundreds of thousands of men overseas during
+the Great War. It sent me, anyway, and brought me
+back again to the north to serve the King when the
+war was over. You may read and quote poetry all you
+like, Tom, but the finest poetry, to my way of thinking,
+is found in worthy deeds of service. I can’t sing
+a note of the National Anthem, and yet, perhaps, my
+work up here in trying to carry out true British justice
+is worth something. I hope so, at any rate.”</p>
+
+<p>The constable was surprised at this outburst, for the
+sergeant was a man of few words. He made no comment,
+however, but rose to his feet and piled more
+wood upon the fire. What his thoughts were, he kept
+to himself as he sat and watched the leaping flames and
+the sparks dancing and circling up into the darkness.
+Marion and North sat upon the opposite side near each
+other. Occasionally he glanced toward them as they
+conversed together in low tones. A longing was entering
+his own heart for the love and confidence of such a
+woman as Marion Brisbane. Hitherto, he had thought
+little about it, being content with his wandering life.
+But now he felt indescribably lonely. He seized a stick
+and stirred the fire, which did not at all need stirring.
+Then his pent-up feelings had to be given expression.
+He again rose to his feet, and looking over at his companions
+began:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span></p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“’Tis sweet to hear the watch-dogs’ honest bark</div>
+<div class="verse">Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home,</div>
+<div class="verse">’Tis sweet to know an eye will mark our coming,</div>
+<div class="verse">And grow brighter when we come.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“Getting sentimental, Tom, eh?” the sergeant
+queried.</p>
+
+<p>“Why shouldn’t I?” was the retort. “It’s catching,
+I guess.”</p>
+
+<p>The night was a hard one. The men took turns
+keeping the fire going, but they slept little, owing to
+the cold. Marion determined to take her share in
+watching, and the men did not oppose her wish. But
+when at last, through extreme weariness, she did fall
+asleep, North and Rolfe took off their short heavy
+coats, and laid them over her body, the same as they
+had done the night before. Upon waking, she had
+chided them for doing such a thing, and told them that
+they must not again run any risk for her sake. The
+men had merely smiled, and remained silent.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning Marion felt very stiff and sore from
+the unaccustomed exertions of the previous day. She
+said nothing, however, as they started once more upon
+the trail. But she could not deceive the sergeant, and
+he felt greatly worried. He knew that she could not
+travel far that day, only a few miles at the most. Something
+had to be done, and he turned over in his mind the
+best course to pursue. For a time he could not decide,
+but when Rolfe began to limp painfully, owing to an
+attack of snow-shoe cramp, he hesitated no longer.</p>
+
+<p>“Look here,” he began, “we shall never reach The
+Gap at the pace we are going, and now that Tom is
+knocked out, matters are worse than ever. You two
+must camp here while I go for assistance. I can reach
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>The Gap before night, round up a team of dogs and
+come back early to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion’s face turned pale at the suggestion, although
+she said nothing. Rolfe knew that the sergeant was
+right, although he felt badly at being forced to give up.</p>
+
+<p>“‘Farewell! a long farewell to all my greatness!’”
+he quoted.</p>
+
+<p>“‘This is the state of man——’”</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind about your greatness,” the sergeant
+interrupted. “We know all about that, and also your
+state at the present time. Get to work at once and
+build as good a shelter as you can. There’s a fine clump
+of trees right over there,” and he motioned to the left.
+“I’m sorry I can’t help you.”</p>
+
+<p>He then turned to Marion, who was standing silently
+near.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom will look after you,” he told her. “Except for
+his poetry, he is all right. He needs to be brought back
+to earth occasionally, that’s all.”</p>
+
+<p>He then stooped and kissed her. For a few seconds
+she clung to him, and there were tears in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Take care of yourself, John,” she said, “I am sorry
+to give you so much trouble. But for me, you both
+would be at The Gap by this time. But, there, I must
+not detain you any longer.”</p>
+
+<p>Hour after hour North moved on his way, up hill and
+down, through thick woods and across barren regions.
+He was greatly hampered by his miserable snow-shoes.
+They lacked the spring and buoyancy of the ones he
+had lost. Often they clogged with snow, and he could
+not tell at what minute they might go to pieces. He
+was forced to use the greatest care as he well knew
+how much depended upon his getting to The Gap for
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>assistance. Should anything happen to him, then
+Marion and the constable would both perish.</p>
+
+<p>For some time he had been anxiously watching the
+sky, which was a dull leaden color. He knew that a
+storm was not far away, and already the wind was
+wailing among the trees. He hoped to outrace it, and
+if he could cross a bad desolate tract of burnt land
+which he knew was ahead before the tempest burst,
+he would feel quite secure. A storm in the mountains
+was a thing to be dreaded. The weather had been fine
+of late, exceptionally so, but he knew that it could not
+continue. The storm was overdue, and when it did
+come, it was likely to be a most furious one.</p>
+
+<p>Ere long fine particles of snow filled the air, and
+flecked his body. They soon grew thicker, and by the
+time he had reached the edge of the burnt region the
+storm was most menacing. He looked anxiously out
+into the open where the snow, driven by the now unimpeded
+wind, resembled the levelled lances of thousands
+of mystic legions of the north. To go back he
+must not. His only course was forward, with the hope
+that he might reach the opposite side before the trail
+became completely obliterated.</p>
+
+<p>Removing a mass of snow from his snow-shoes, and
+drawing his cap more firmly about his face, North left
+the shelter of the forest and plunged out into the driving
+storm. With head bent, and eyes fixed upon the
+rapidly disappearing trail, he pressed steadily forward.
+It was a hard struggle, and the cold was intense, piercing
+his body. At length his progress became slower.
+His feet would slip provokingly off the snow-shoes,
+and at times he found himself floundering around in
+the deep snow, and only regaining the trail with considerable
+difficulty. Often, too, he was forced to pause
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>for breath, and to beat his hands together in order to
+get some warmth into his numbed fingers. He realised
+the seriousness of his situation, but he was determined
+not to give up. He must reach the forest beyond.
+Marion’s life depended upon his efforts, and he must
+not fail her. Again he struggled back upon the trail
+from which he had wandered. Once more he peered
+keenly ahead, hoping to catch sight of the friendly
+trees. But everything was blotted from view, and his
+eyes ached from the lashing of the cruel snow.</p>
+
+<p>At length he felt that he could go no farther. He
+was becoming bewildered. The roar of the wind
+sounded like a demon hurling itself upon him. He
+groped for the trail like a blind man. He was almost
+waist-deep in the snow, and the snow-shoes were off
+his feet. His body was becoming numb. But he
+would not give up. He would fight the monster, and
+win out. With another frantic effort he threw himself
+forward, his hands reaching out. Then he lifted up
+his voice in one great cry of despair, the first that had
+ever come from his lips in all his years of service in
+the Force.</p>
+
+<p>And as he stood there, his face turned appealingly
+toward the forest, the form of a man bending to the
+wind suddenly hove in sight. So unexpected was this
+appearance that the sergeant gave a gasp of surprise.
+The man seemed more than human as he advanced with
+long strides. The storm whipping his great body
+appeared not to impede him in the least. He was about
+to pass when North hailed him.</p>
+
+<p>“Help! help!” he cried.</p>
+
+<p>The traveller stopped short, swung quickly around,
+rubbed the snow from his eyes, and peered keenly in
+the direction from which the sound had come. Instantly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>North recognised Hugo, the trapper, and unconsciously
+his numbed right hand groped for his
+revolver. Hugo, too, recognised the sergeant, and
+noticing the movement of his hand, he gave a roar of
+warning.</p>
+
+<p>“Drop that,” he ordered. “Heavens! man, are you
+crazy? This is no time or place to pull a gun. What
+could you do against me? I guess you’d better wait.
+What’s wrong, anyway?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m all in,” was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>“H’m, you look it,” Hugo growled, as he stepped
+closer. “All in but your spirit, eh? Man, I like your
+pluck. Here, take my hand, and I’ll lift you out of that
+hole.”</p>
+
+<p>In another minute North was standing upon the
+trail, and then the two men faced each other. The
+wind swirled the snow in furious gusts about their
+bodies, at times almost hiding each other from view.
+North was the first to speak.</p>
+
+<p>“You are my prisoner,” he said. “I order you to
+surrender.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo’s only reply was to throw back his head, and
+emit a roar of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you think I am joking?” the sergeant sternly
+asked. “I am on duty, remember, so your best plan
+is to obey.”</p>
+
+<p>“Surrender! what am I to surrender, man? I’m
+here, but what are you going to do with me? From
+all appearances you had better surrender to me, and
+let me get you out of this. Let us stop this fooling
+and settle down to business.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you won’t fight?” North asked in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo reached out, laid a heavy hand upon the sergeant’s
+shoulder, and shook him.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>“Wake up,” he ordered. “What’s the matter with
+you? Do you realize where you are? Fight! I’m not
+going to fight a half-crazed man.”</p>
+
+<p>The rough shake and the plain words brought North
+to his senses. He looked around for an instant, and
+then his eyes sought his rescuer’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“Forgive me,” he said. “But I guess I have been a
+little off my base. And no wonder. I’ve been in hell.”</p>
+
+<p>“True to your orders, for all that, eh?” Hugo
+queried. “Lost, half frozen, daft, and yet hanging on
+like a bulldog. Lord! is it any wonder that the Force
+is what it is when it contains men like you? But tell
+me, where is my daughter?”</p>
+
+<p>“Marion?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Back there with Constable Rolfe. I was on my
+way to The Gap for aid when this storm knocked me
+out. Will you help me?”</p>
+
+<p>“Is it a truce, then?” Hugo asked.</p>
+
+<p>“A truce to what?”</p>
+
+<p>“To our enmity. We are enemies, so it seems. But
+we must be friends for a time to save my daughter.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and to save the girl I love, and who has promised
+to be my wife,” the sergeant replied.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo’s face darkened and a terrible temptation smote
+his heart. It was only for an instant, however, and
+then reaching out, he seized North’s mittened hand.</p>
+
+<p>“It is well,” he simply said. “Let it be the truce of
+the storm.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 16<br>
+<small>The Man of the Gap</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">“THE GAP” is a natural opening between the
+Yukon River region on the east and the great
+mountains on the west. In fact, it is the one door
+through which people pass, Indians and whites alike,
+on mining, trading, or any other business. In former
+days native warriors passed this way to wage war upon
+some distant tribe. It was a regular Thermopylæe
+where a few men could hold an entire army at bay.
+Two huge shoulders of rocks, devoid of any vegetation,
+oppose each other. Through The Gap flows a
+little stream, draining a lake miles away. By the side
+of this runs the trail, worn deep by the tread of many
+feet, not only of human beings, but of moose, deer,
+bear, and other animals of the north. Just within The
+Gap on the Eastward side is a remarkable valley, several
+acres in extent, scooped, so it seems, out of the
+mountains. This is completely sheltered from every
+wind which blows, and had always formed a favorite
+camping-ground for Indians. It is a most desirable
+place, for apart from the shelter it affords from storms
+and enemies, mountain sheep and other game are
+abundant, while the little stream and various lakes teem
+with fish, especially the King Salmon.</p>
+
+<p>It was, therefore, but natural that Charles Norris, a
+clergyman sent out by a great English Missionary
+Society, should choose this spot as the strategic point
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>in his work among the Indians. For long years he
+and his faithful wife laboured among the tribes of the
+wandering foot. They won them from heathen ways,
+and the influence of the Medicine Men. A log church
+was built, and in due time a school for the children.
+A linguist of no mean ability, Mr. Norris learned the
+native tongue, and gave the Indians hymns, prayers,
+and portions of Scripture in their own language. It
+was a happy community, uncontaminated by any of
+the degenerating influences of so-called civilisation.
+When the Indians returned from the hills, the church
+and mission house were always filled with earnest
+seekers after the truth, and the hearts of the missionaries
+overflowed with thankfulness to Him who had
+wrought such wonders through their humble efforts.</p>
+
+<p>Often they would look upon the great mountains,
+and in their majesty and surrounding strength they
+would see the encompassing arms of the Almighty.
+To them The Gap Mission was what Jerusalem was to
+the people of Hebrew days. Their eyes would kindle
+and their hearts thrill as they dwelt upon the words
+of the ancient poet:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“As the mountains are about Jerusalem,</div>
+<div class="verse">So the Lord is round about His people.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Hardly a morning passed that Charles Norris did
+not stand at the door of his house and say, either
+silently or aloud:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first2">“‘I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,</div>
+<div class="verse">From whence cometh my help.’”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It was a great day for the missionaries and Indians
+alike when the first copies containing hymns, prayers,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>and portions of Scripture reached them from England.
+Already there were leaders trained to read, and
+these small books were carried by the natives to their
+hunting-grounds. There night after night, where the
+two or three gathered together, the leader would read
+the wonderful words contained in the little manual.
+He would then repeat a number of prayers, and all
+would join in singing some favourite hymn. To the
+missionaries it seemed as if the Pentecostal fire had
+really come down upon those lost sheep of the Rocky
+Mountains.</p>
+
+<p>But alas! great changes ere long took place. This
+happy state of affairs was not destined to endure. As
+the serpent entered the Garden of Eden and destroyed
+its peaceful repose, so it was at The Gap. With the
+discovery of gold, thousands of men poured into the
+country. They traversed every trail, followed up every
+valley in their mad rush for wealth. Although many
+of the newcomers were good men, who respected the
+law of God and man, there were others, the scum of
+civilisation, who polluted everything and place they
+touched. Little by little they led away the Indians
+from their allegiance to what they had been taught.
+For a time the natives resisted, but their thirst for
+hootch, and the temptations the white men set before
+them, proved too strong. Sadly Charles Norris and
+his wife saw their influence wane, and their work of
+years brought to ruin. They pleaded, they prayed,
+but all in vain. At last the day came when only two
+were left—an old leader, Tom, and his faithful wife,
+Kate. Nothing could divert their loyalty to the missionaries,
+and they, too, grieved over the defection of
+the members of their tribe.</p>
+
+<p>It was a trying time when the mission school had to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>be given up. The children slipped away, one by one,
+a number of the girls being led astray by white men.
+The loss of Zell affected them keenly. They had hoped
+much from this girl, who was brighter than the others,
+and possessed of nobler qualities. They had made
+much of her, and she was to them almost like a
+daughter.</p>
+
+<p>But the greatest blow of all to Charles Norris was
+when his wife sickened and died. For a time he was
+completely bewildered. He laid her to rest in the little
+Indian burying place nearby, and once again took up
+his weary and lonely task. Nothing could induce him
+to leave his post of duty. His Bishop came, pleaded,
+and reasoned with him, but to no purpose.</p>
+
+<p>“My place is here,” he had quietly replied. “The Indians
+may come back, and when they do, I must be
+waiting to receive them. I have no other home, and
+the interests of the outside world are nothing to me.”</p>
+
+<p>And so he remained, living alone in his house,
+attended by Kate, the Indian woman. She washed
+and cooked for him, and did what she could for his
+welfare. His wants were few, his mind now being
+entirely occupied with earnest prayers on behalf of his
+wandering flock, and preparing a larger manual of
+worship for the natives.</p>
+
+<p>“They may need it some day,” he had told his Bishop.
+“I have spent many years in studying the language,
+and it may be a help to others when I am gone. I feel
+sure that the Lord will not let all my work come to
+naught.”</p>
+
+<p>So great were his hope and faith, that every evening,
+both summer and winter, he held the simple service in
+the log church. Exactly at seven o’clock he would
+ring the little bell, which was fastened to a rude frame
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>near the door. When the sound had ceased he would
+look up the valley, and listen intently for the music
+of hurrying feet which no longer came as in the past.
+Only Tom and Kate would come, shuffling along, to
+take their places near the chancel steps. The missionary
+would then enter the little vestry, don his robes,
+and read the service, never forgetting to pray for the
+absent ones.</p>
+
+<p>One cold night after service the missionary returned
+to his lonely house. Lighting a candle, he stirred up
+the fire in the sheet-iron heater, and added a couple of
+sticks. He then sat down at the rough deal table
+nearby which contained a number of books, several
+sheets of paper, pen, and ink. His eyes rested upon
+his translation of the beautiful benediction of St. Paul
+in his second letter to the Church at Corinth. “Nyiwhet
+Kekwadhut Jesus Kreist vit chekoorzi ako Vittekwichanchyo
+chettigwinidhun, ako Chunkyo Rsotitinyoo
+nichya sheg Myiwhot tutthug zyunkoli. Amen.”
+Carefully he compared this with the English, “The
+grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God,
+and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with you all.
+Amen.” For some time he sat there pondering over
+these words. He had no doubt about their truth, but
+somehow it did seem as if they were not applicable to
+him and his scattered flock. Grace had been strangely
+withheld of late, love had grown cold, and the bond
+of fellowship broken. The enemies of righteousness
+had triumphed, and truth had been trampled under foot.
+He and his two faithful Indians were alone left to uphold
+the standard of the Lord in that desolate wilderness.
+Was it really any use for him to strive longer?
+Perhaps it might be better for him to go elsewhere.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>Surely there was other work for him to do. Was he
+only wasting his time by remaining at The Gap?</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there flashed into his mind the lament of
+the Lord, “I sought for a man that should make up the
+hedge, and stand in the gap before me for the land, and
+I found none.” These words startled him, and he
+quickly turned to the twenty-second chapter of the
+prophet Ezekiel. He read them with kindling eyes,
+and his heart beating a little faster. Why had they
+come to him just then? Was it a message from on
+high? A warning for him not to leave his post of
+duty? Did the Lord mean for him to remain there?
+Was there something yet for him to do? Yes, he
+would stay, and when the time came that a man was
+specially needed, he, Charles Norris, would be found
+standing in The Gap. This resolve gave him considerable
+comfort, so once more he picked up his pen and
+went on with his work.</p>
+
+<p>For perhaps an hour he sat there, lost in his self-imposed
+task of translating the clear brief English
+words into the long, forbidding ones of the native language.
+He was at length aroused by a loud knock upon
+the door. He started, and looked around. At once
+the door opened and a man entered, who stood gazing
+for a few seconds at the scene before him.</p>
+
+<p>“I want shelter for the night,” he roughly said.
+“An’ grub, too. I’m starving.”</p>
+
+<p>He then moved toward the stove, and the missionary
+noticed that he limped painfully.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you hurt?” he asked, rising from his seat and
+stepping forward.</p>
+
+<p>The visitor was about to make a savage reply, when
+he suddenly stopped. Something about the old man
+restrained him. He could not tell what it was, but
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>Bill, the Slugger, for once was abashed. He put up
+his right hand as if to keep the missionary back. The
+latter interpreted this motion as a sign of faintness.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, come, sit right down here,” he said, drawing
+up a chair to the fire. “I shall give you something to
+eat at once, and make you a cup of strong tea.”</p>
+
+<p>With a groan Bill slumped into the chair, and when
+food was brought, he ate ravenously. He gulped down
+the tea, and handed back his cup for more.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, ye don’t happen to have somethin’ with a kick
+in it, do ye?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“You mean hootch, I suppose,” and a sad expression
+overspread the missionary’s face. “No, I have no use
+for the stuff.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s good enough, though, when it has the right
+kick,” the visitor mournfully replied.</p>
+
+<p>“It had the wrong kick among my flock, and ruined
+my work here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did it? That’s too bad.” Bill was feeling in a
+better humour now.</p>
+
+<p>“An’ so ye lost ’em all, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“All but two; old Tom and his wife.”</p>
+
+<p>“Religion doesn’t take much hold on Injuns, so I’ve
+heard. Ye’ll give up yer job now, I s’pose. Much in
+it, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“In what way?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, in money. D’ye git much fer hangin’ out here?
+It’s a wonder ye don’t leave.”</p>
+
+<p>“All I have in this world is here,” was the quiet reply.
+“My total earthly possessions are under this roof, and
+out among the trees, a short distance from the building.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! a cache?”</p>
+
+<p>“No—my wife’s grave.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>This unexpected reply startled Bill, and he gasped,
+knowing not what to say. His movement caused him
+to groan with pain, and only with difficulty he smothered
+an angry oath.</p>
+
+<p>“Is there anything I can do for your leg?” the missionary
+asked. “I am quite a doctor, so might be able
+to help you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, it’s bad,” Bill acknowledged. “Hurt it on the
+trail. Look.” When the left bare leg was exposed,
+Norris beheld a nasty swelling, just above the ankle.</p>
+
+<p>“It looks like a sprain,” the missionary remarked,
+examining it closely. “Hot applications and iodine
+will give you relief.”</p>
+
+<p>The visitor made no comment but let the missionary
+wait upon him. Hot cloths were then applied, after
+which the swollen part was well painted with iodine.</p>
+
+<p>“There, I guess that will do for the present,” Norris
+said, as he rose from his knees, corked the bottle and
+placed it upon a shelf.</p>
+
+<p>“A rest will do you good. You may sleep in that
+little room over there. You will find it quite warm.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’d rather sit here fer a while,” Bill replied. “Ye
+don’t mind if I smoke, do ye?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not in the least. The Indians always smoked when
+they came to see me. Have you any tobacco?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I haven’t. Say, ye don’t happen to have any,
+do ye?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, there is part of a plug which old Tom left the
+other day. He won’t mind you having it.”</p>
+
+<p>Bill eagerly seized the tobacco, quickly whittled off
+several slices, and filled his blackened pipe. With a sigh
+of contentment, he leaned back in the chair.</p>
+
+<p>“My! that’s good,” he said. “I’ve been sufferin’ fer
+days fer a smoke.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>“Well, enjoy yourself, then, while I do some work,”
+Norris replied. “We can talk later.”</p>
+
+<p>Seated once more at the table, the missionary was
+soon engrossed in his work. The visitor watched him
+curiously as he sent big wreathes of smoke into the air.
+And truly it was a scene worthy of a great artist—the
+venerable, white-haired man, with the long flowing
+beard, noble forehead, and eyes expressive of sympathy
+and devotion. The lighted candle, and the humble surroundings
+seemed to enhance the face and form of the
+man, bestowing upon him a patriarchal dignity, and the
+glorifying of the commonplace.</p>
+
+<p>Of all this, however, the silent man near the stove
+thought nothing. His mind was dwelling upon more
+material things, such as the amount of money the missionary
+might have on his person or concealed about the
+house, and whether it would be worth the trouble and
+the risk to knock him on the head in order to find out.
+He wondered if he would fight if ordered to produce
+anything of value. He believed that he could handle
+him all right, and that he would easily submit when
+threatened by a revolver. But of the old man’s eyes he
+was not so sure. There was something about them that
+made him afraid, and awed even his reckless and villainous
+nature. No respect for the self-denying and
+gentle man of God entered his calloused heart. And
+gratitude for favors received, which even the dumb
+brutes possess, was to him a thing unknown.</p>
+
+<p>At length the missionary laid down his pen and
+looked over at his visitor.</p>
+
+<p>“You must be very tired,” he said. “It is my bedtime,
+so if you will excuse me, I shall retire. Make
+yourself perfectly at home here, and if you need any
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>help in the night with your ankle, call me. But, as is
+always my custom, I shall have a few prayers.”</p>
+
+<p>At once the old man kneeled down and offered up
+his humble petitions. He prayed especially for the
+wandering flock, not forgetting to ask a blessing upon
+the stranger under his roof. Thanking God for all
+His past mercies, and committing himself and his
+visitor to the Divine protection, he rose from his knees
+and picked up his candle.</p>
+
+<p>When the missionary began to pray, a cynical and a
+mocking expression overspread Bill’s face. With unbent
+head he watched the “daft old man,” as he considered
+him. But as the praying continued, some chord
+of memory was touched, and for the first time in years
+he recalled the little prayer he had learned at his mother’s
+knees. It was merely a passing emotion, however,
+but it brought a softer expression into his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Are there any Injuns near here?” he asked, as the
+missionary was about to leave the room.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, several bands are out in the hills, so I understand.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where?”</p>
+
+<p>“Due west, straight up the valley. Good night, and
+may you rest well.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 17<br>
+<small>The Trapper Arrives</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">CHARLES NORRIS was an early riser, and it
+was his custom to be at work hours before the
+sun stole down into the valley. But the next morning
+he departed from this habit of years, and remained in
+bed longer than usual. He did not wish to disturb his
+guest, for, judging by what he had heard in the night,
+he believed that his rest had been broken owing to the
+pain in his leg, and so was forced to move around a
+great deal. Once he had asked if he could do anything
+for him, and had been told that nothing could be
+done. After that the missionary had gone to sleep
+again, and did not awake until his usual time.</p>
+
+<p>When at length he did get up and dress, he walked
+softly out into the other room. He made as little noise
+as possible in placing several sticks in the stove, and
+even postponed his breakfast. He sat down at the
+table and busied himself for a while with his translation
+work. At last he arose and went over to the
+corner of the room where he kept his supply of food.
+Finding nothing there, he was surprised. He went
+back for his candle and made a thorough examination
+of the corner. But not a scrap of meat, bread, or
+flour, was left. All was gone. Somewhat dazed,
+the missionary wondered what could have happened
+to his provisions. Then an idea came to his mind
+which caused him some uneasiness. Walking rapidly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>to the room where he believed his guest had slept, he
+held the candle above his head and looked in. But
+no sign of the visitor could he see. In fact, the bed
+had not been slept in at all. Then he knew for a certainty
+that the man had gone, and taken with him the
+scanty supply of food the house contained.</p>
+
+<p>“My, oh, my! I am surprised!” the missionary murmured.
+“He need not have stolen that food, as I would
+gladly have given it to him. Why did he commit that
+sin?”</p>
+
+<p>Charles Norris was of such a trustful disposition
+that it was hard for him to see evil in anyone. So
+gentle was he that his gentleness became a weakness
+when dealing with the stern facts of life. Had his
+nature been moulded along more rugged lines he would
+have succeeded better with his Indians. They considered
+his gentleness and patience as a weakness in his
+make-up, and always imposed upon him, even when
+most amenable to his teaching. Perhaps if he had been
+more severe, and mingled with his gentleness some of
+the manly fibre of the Great Master, it might have been
+better. But that he could not do. He would win
+through gentle love alone, and in no other way, forgetting
+in his holy enthusiasm that the truest love is at
+times closely linked with the chastening rod. He knew
+that there was much evil in the world, but he believed
+that the overmastering weapon to conquer it was love.
+He trusted his unknown visitor that night, and when
+he found that he had wilfully deceived him it was a
+severe shock.</p>
+
+<p>Returning to the table, he sat down, and remained
+for some time lost in thought. At length he turned
+and looked toward a little box upon the shelf where a
+small clock was ticking. He rose to his feet, went over,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>took down the box, opened it and peered in. It was
+empty! He had not left much money there, but it was
+all that he had.</p>
+
+<p>“So he took that!” he exclaimed. “I can understand
+his stealing food. But my money! The Indians,
+even when most uncouth, never stole anything from
+this house. And to think that a white man, and one
+I trusted, should be the first to steal from me!”</p>
+
+<p>The missionary was standing near the shelf, when
+a gentle tap sounded upon the door, and old Tom at
+once entered.</p>
+
+<p>“Good morning, Gikhi,” he accosted in the native
+tongue. “You are alone, I see.”</p>
+
+<p>“And why shouldn’t I be, Tom?” the missionary
+asked. “Am I not generally alone?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but not last night. Where is the stranger?”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you see him?”</p>
+
+<p>“Tom saw him. Does Gikhi know who he is, and
+where he came from?”</p>
+
+<p>“No; I never asked him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bad white man, ugh!”</p>
+
+<p>“How do you know that, Tom?”</p>
+
+<p>“Tom old man now. Tom knows much. Tom sees
+here,” and he touched his eyes with the fingers of his
+right hand. He then placed his hand to his forehead.
+“Tom sees more here,” he added, while a quaint smile
+overspread his face. “White man steal grub, eh?” and
+he looked over toward the corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, yes! How did you know that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Tom get Gikhi grub now,” was the native’s reply.</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t pay you, Tom. The white man took my
+money.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tom doesn’t want pay. Tom glad to give grub.
+Gikhi good man.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>“Thank you, Tom. You are a true friend. I shall
+not forget this.”</p>
+
+<p>When Tom had gone the missionary returned to his
+seat by the table. He did not pick up his pen as usual,
+but sat staring straight before him. Tom’s presence
+had brought back memories of other days when morning
+by morning Indians had come to his house on
+various missions, and they had always received a hearty
+welcome. They needed him then, but he needed them
+now. This was a new and startling idea. He wondered
+why he had never thought of it before. Had he
+done too much for the Indians, and had not allowed
+them to do enough for him? “Service for others” had
+always been his motto, and he had given of himself
+without stint. And the sense of responsibility, and of
+giving without receiving, had been an unspeakable joy.
+But had he thus taught the natives? Sadly he was
+forced to confess to himself that he had not. He had
+presented to them a distorted view of the life and
+teaching of the Great Master. Their characters, accordingly,
+had not been developed, and in the time of
+temptation they had fallen away.</p>
+
+<p>“Forgive me, Lord! forgive me!” he murmured.
+“I did it unwittingly. I am not worthy to be called
+Thy servant. But now my eyes are opened and I see.
+Lord, give me another chance. Cast me not away in
+my old age, until I show to Thy wandering ones the
+true glory of loving and unselfish service.”</p>
+
+<p>He ceased, and his grey eyes glowed anew with the
+light of a great resolve. Charles Norris, the missionary,
+had made a wonderful discovery. It came to him
+in a moment of time, but it had taken long years of toil
+and hardship, of sorrow and failure, to bring it to pass.</p>
+
+<p>He was aroused from his reverie by a heavy knock
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>upon the door. Ere he could rise, the door was thrust
+open, and Hugo, the trapper, entered, bearing in his
+arms the limp form of Zell, the half-breed girl. Hugo
+staggered as he started to cross the floor, and he would
+have dropped the girl had not the missionary stepped
+quickly forward and caught her in his arms. He then
+carried her over and laid her upon a little cot near the
+stove. Hugo followed him, and looked down anxiously
+upon the unconscious one.</p>
+
+<p>“I made it!” he gasped. “Lord! I thought I’d never
+do it!”</p>
+
+<p>“Who is the girl?” the missionary asked. “What
+has happened to her?”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo made no reply, but sat down wearily upon the
+nearest seat, which was nothing but a rough bench.
+His face was drawn and haggard, expressing more
+plainly than words the great struggle he had made.
+The missionary wisely forbore questioning further, but
+turned at once and prepared a cup of tea.</p>
+
+<p>“This is all I have to offer you, now,” he apologised,
+handing Hugo a steaming cup. “I had a visitor last
+night, and he took nearly everything but this.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo drank the tea, and giving back the cup,
+stretched out his hands toward the stove.</p>
+
+<p>“My! that heat feels good,” he said. “That poor
+girl must be chilled through; I kept her as warm as I
+could, but it was a hard job.”</p>
+
+<p>Going at once into his bedroom, the missionary
+brought out a thick blanket and laid it carefully over
+the girl’s body.</p>
+
+<p>“What is the matter with her?” he asked, turning to
+the trapper.</p>
+
+<p>“She’s crazy, that’s what’s wrong. I found her wandering
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>around in the snow, singing and making queer
+noises, and so I brought her here.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what happened to her? How did she come to
+be wandering about alone?”</p>
+
+<p>“It was due to a devil who calls himself a man,”
+Hugo savagely replied. “I’m just longing to get my
+hands on that skunk, and I’ll——”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo paused without finishing his sentence, and the
+doubled-up first of his right hand shot straight before
+him. There was no doubt about what he would do
+should he come across the man responsible for Zell’s
+condition.</p>
+
+<p>Just then Tom entered, and laid a supply of food
+upon the table. He looked first at Hugo, whom he well
+knew, and then at the covered form on the cot. Indian
+like, he made no comment, but drew the missionary’s
+attention to the food.</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind that now, Tom,” Mr. Norris replied.
+“Go and bring Kate here at once. I want her to look
+after the girl over there. I don’t know what to do
+for her. She should have a woman’s care, anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is the white girl very sick, Gikhi?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am afraid so. She has had a hard time on the
+trail, and her head is queer.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom at once left the building, and in a remarkably
+short time he was back again with his wife close at his
+heels. The latter, a stout, motherly-looking woman,
+went at once to the side of the cot. She turned back
+the blanket, and when she had drawn aside the hood
+which almost concealed the girl’s face, she uttered an
+exclamation of surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter, Kate?” the missionary asked,
+hurrying to her side.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian woman made no reply, but pointed excitedly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>at the girl. Owing to the dimness of the room,
+and failing sight, Mr. Norris bent down over the cot
+and peered at the girl’s face. Then a great cry of concern
+broke from his lips, and dropping upon his knees
+he reached out trembling hands.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s Zell; it’s Zell!” he exclaimed. “It’s our own
+lost child come back again! Quick, Kate, remove her
+hood and let me have a good look at her. Light the
+candle, Tom, and bring it here.”</p>
+
+<p>When his orders had been speedily obeyed, he took
+the candle in his left hand, and held it so that the light
+would shine upon the girl’s face. Catching one of
+Zell’s limp, cold hands in his, he felt her pulse.</p>
+
+<p>“No, she is not dead, thank God. But she needs
+help at once. You will take good care of her, Kate.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah, Gikhi, Kate will look well after the girl,”
+was the quiet reply. “Tom will carry her to our cabin.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no, she must stay here,” the missionary insisted.
+“She has come back home, and this is the
+place for her. My wife, were she alive, would want our
+child to remain here.”</p>
+
+<p>“She is not with us now, Gikhi, remember,” Tom
+replied. “Kate knows what to do for Zell better than
+white men.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are right, Tom,” the missionary agreed. “Zell
+shall go with Kate. She is the proper one to look after
+her.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good, good,” Tom replied, as he stooped and lifted
+the girl in his arms. In another minute he was out of
+the house, with Kate following close at his heels.</p>
+
+<p>The missionary stood watching them until they
+passed within their own abode. He then closed the
+door and came over to Hugo’s side.</p>
+
+<p>“You are tired,” he said. “Let me get you something
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>to eat, and after that you must have a good
+sleep.”</p>
+
+<p>The trapper looked up wearily into the old man’s
+face. The missionary’s interest and sympathy touched
+him deeply. For the time, he was no longer the great
+strong Hugo of the trail, a modern Esau, with his
+heart against every man, except the unfortunate. He
+was as a child, tired out, ready to rest.</p>
+
+<p>After Hugo had eaten the simple meal, the missionary
+conducted him to the room where he had taken
+Bill, the Slugger, the night before.</p>
+
+<p>“There is a good bed,” he told him. “It has not been
+slept on for some time. The man who stayed here last
+night was suffering too much to sleep. He left before
+I was up.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who was that?” Hugo asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I do not know his name. But he had a bad leg,
+which he said he injured on the trail. I did what I
+could for him, but it gave him no relief. Anyway, he
+was able to travel and carry with him my entire stock
+of provisions, and all the money I had.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! did he steal them?” Hugo asked in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but, then, perhaps, he needed them more than
+I did. If he had only asked me, I would gladly have
+given him food, and money, too, for that matter.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo was about to question further, but refrained,
+and stretched himself out upon the bed. Carefully and
+almost tenderly the missionary covered him with thick
+blankets, closed the door and went back to his table and
+writing.</p>
+
+<p>All through the day the trapper slept, and was only
+aroused by the sound of the bell outside. Wondering
+what it could mean, he quickly rose, went to the door
+and looked out. Then he understood, so closing the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>door he walked over to the little church. The bell was
+silent now, for the ringer had already gone into the
+building. Hugo also entered and sat down on a seat
+near the door. Old Tom was alone, sitting in his accustomed
+place. Presently the missionary came from
+the vestry and began the service. Although Hugo
+could not understand a word that was being said, he
+was much impressed. The church was cold, and dimly
+lighted by two candles. The missionary’s voice was
+intensely earnest, and a feeling of great respect came
+into the trapper’s heart as he listened. What wonderful
+faith the man must have, he mused. How other
+men would have given up long ago.</p>
+
+<p>And as he watched, he gave a sudden start. A
+strange light seemed to surround the two worshippers.
+He rubbed his eyes, thinking that he was mistaken.
+But, no, the light was there, wonderfully soft, and yet
+much stronger than that of the candles. It resembled
+the light which had surrounded the sleeping child that
+night on the trail. He strained his eyes, half expecting
+to behold some angel visitants. And as he looked,
+the light gradually faded, and by the time the service
+was ended it had disappeared altogether.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo slipped out of the church, and when the missionary
+returned to his house he found him sitting near
+the stove.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you have a nice service?” the trapper asked.</p>
+
+<p>“A remarkable one to-night,” was the quiet reply.</p>
+
+<p>“But did you have any congregation? Are not most
+of the natives away?”</p>
+
+<p>“You are quite right. Tom was the only Indian
+present, as Kate could not leave Zell. But I was wonderfully
+inspired at the service to-night. The church
+seemed to be filled with a great light, and I am certain
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>that I saw angelic forms filling all the seats, and crowding
+the building. It may have been an hallucination,
+though to me it was very real and heartening. But I
+suppose you will say it is all nonsense. That is too
+often the way with people of the world who cannot understand
+such things.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo made no reply just then, but that night as he
+sat smoking, he turned abruptly to the missionary,
+busy at his writing.</p>
+
+<p>“How is the girl?” he asked. “Have you seen her
+to-day?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, I have been over several times. There is
+no change as yet, although Kate thinks that she will
+recover.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo smoked in silence for a few minutes. At
+length he rose to his feet, and bent over the table.</p>
+
+<p>“Will you do me a favor?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I shall be only too glad to do so if it is within my
+power,” was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>The trapper at once thrust his right hand into an
+inside pocket, brought forth the diamond ring, and held
+it in the palm of his hand. Seeing the look of wonder
+in the old man’s eyes, he smiled.</p>
+
+<p>“It is no wonder that you are surprised, Mr. Norris,
+for one doesn’t come across such as this every day.
+But I found it in a cabin and I want to give it to you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Give it to me!” the missionary exclaimed. “Why
+what in the world would I do with such a thing as that?
+I have no use for so valuable a ring as I take that to
+be.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I believe it is valuable. You can sell it some
+day, and it will repay you a little for your care of that
+girl.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I don’t want any pay for that.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>“So you won’t take it, then?” There was a note of
+disappointment in the trapper’s voice.</p>
+
+<p>“No, I could not think of doing such a thing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Will you keep it, then, until I come back? I am
+going to leave early in the morning, and may not return
+for several days. I am afraid of losing it on the trail.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t mind doing that,” the missionary agreed.
+“It should be safe here, for I have few visitors, and the
+one I had last night is not likely to come again.”</p>
+
+<p>He took the ring in his hand and examined it closely.
+He noted the flashing lustre of the diamond when the
+light of the candle fell upon it.</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder what fair finger this once encircled,” he
+mused, as if to himself. “It’s a symbol of that life of
+which I was once so fond. It brings back old memories
+which I thought I had forever forgotten. But I
+left all those things behind when I enlisted beneath the
+Banner of the Cross.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are you happier now than you were then?” Hugo
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I have never really thought about it in that way,”
+was the reply. “But I know I am, for I am in possession
+of a Great Treasure which gives me peace in
+times of storm, and joy in the midst of tribulation. A
+man who once has that need never worry about losing
+the things of the world.”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe you are right,” Hugo fervently replied,
+as he returned to his seat by the fire, and continued his
+smoke.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 18<br>
+<small>A Cowardly Deed</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">WHEN Charles Norris awoke the next morning
+he found that Hugo had gone. The previous
+evening he had shared with him some of the food
+which old Tom had brought to the house. He had
+asked the trapper no questions and was unaware of the
+errand which caused him to leave so early. This was
+but natural in a country where men as a rule are
+reticent about their movements. The missionary, who
+for years had known this strange wanderer of the
+trails, was pleased at the apparent change which had
+come over him. He had met him several times out in
+the hills, and had heard numerous stories from the
+Indians and others about his great strength and fierceness
+of manner. He had, accordingly, considered him
+as an untamable being who for some special reason
+had fled from civilisation and had buried himself in
+the northern wilderness. His sympathy in caring for
+the half-breed girl, and his gentleness while in the
+house, came somewhat as a surprise to the missionary.
+He was pleased, too, that the trapper had not scoffed
+when he told him about the vision he had seen during
+the service. There must be some good in the fellow,
+after all, he thought.</p>
+
+<p>After he had prepared and eaten his breakfast, the
+missionary left the house and went over to his cache,
+situated several feet from the ground between four big
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>trees. Here his extra supply of provisions was safe
+from prowling animals. He carried with him a small
+ladder which he placed against one of the trees, mounted
+it and brought down such things as he needed. These
+he at once took over to Tom’s cabin and laid them on
+the floor.</p>
+
+<p>“I bring these to pay you back for what you gave
+me,” he explained. “You will find some tea there, too.
+How is Zell?”</p>
+
+<p>“Better this morning, Gikhi,” the Indian replied.
+“Her eyes see, and her tongue speaks straight.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, that is good, Tom. You and Kate have done
+well.”</p>
+
+<p>He walked over to the bed on the floor where the
+girl was lying, stooped down and looked into her face.
+Then he took one of her hands in his, and gave it a
+slight pressure.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you know me, dear?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>For a few seconds Zell stared straight at him, as if
+trying to recall something. Then a slight expression
+of understanding dawned in her eyes, and her brow
+wrinkled. This was followed immediately by a look
+of fear as she raised her right hand and struck feebly
+at the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>“Go away, go away!” she cried. “Don’t, Bill, don’t!
+Oh, let me go!”</p>
+
+<p>“Hush, hush,” Norris soothed. “You are safe here
+with friends. Don’t you know me, Zell? It is your
+own Gikhi who has come to you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Gikhi! Gikhi!” the girl repeated. “Not Bill?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no. Bill is not here. Just Gikhi, Tom, and
+Kate.”</p>
+
+<p>With a sigh Zell closed her eyes and remained very
+still. The missionary watched her for a few minutes
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>until he was certain that she was asleep. He then
+knelt upon the floor by her side, and remained a long
+time in silent prayer. Tom and Kate sat upon the
+floor, and with bowed heads waited for the missionary
+to rise. When he did so, he turned to the faithful
+natives, and in a low voice told them to summon him
+when Zell awoke. He then left the building with the
+intention of going to his own house. But Tom followed
+close behind, and when the door had been closed,
+he touched the missionary reverently upon the arm.</p>
+
+<p>“Will Zell get well, Gikhi?” he asked in the Indian
+tongue.</p>
+
+<p>“Let us hope so,” Norris replied, stopping and looking
+at the native. “I have asked the Good Lord to
+make her well, so we must leave everything in His
+hands now. He will do what is best, never doubt.”</p>
+
+<p>“But the Good Lord didn’t make her that way,
+Gikhi. He had nothing to do with it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose not, but He can cure her, nevertheless.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you hear her speak about Bill, Gikhi?”</p>
+
+<p>“I did. She seemed to be very much afraid of him.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is a bad man, Gikhi. Will the Good Lord punish
+him?”</p>
+
+<p>“Most likely He will. The Judge of all the earth
+will do right.”</p>
+
+<p>“But doesn’t the good Lord often leave us to judge
+and punish, Gikhi?”</p>
+
+<p>“He often does, Tom, when it is necessary. But in
+this case there is nothing we can do. We do not know
+who Bill is, so how can we punish him? If the Police
+knew what he did they might track him down.”</p>
+
+<p>“But doesn’t Gikhi know? It was Bill who stole his
+grub and money.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>At this information the missionary started and his
+eyes opened wide with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you telling me the truth?” he asked. “Was it
+really that man who injured our little girl?”</p>
+
+<p>“It was, Gikhi. I am telling you the truth. When
+did you know Tom to lie?”</p>
+
+<p>“Is it possible that I fed and cared for the villain who
+hurt Zell? If I had known! If I had known!”</p>
+
+<p>“What would you have done, Gikhi?”</p>
+
+<p>“What would I have done?” The missionary stared
+at the Indian. He then placed his hand to his forehead,
+a sure sign of his perplexity. “I don’t know,
+Tom,” he at last confessed. “I am not sure what I
+would have done. I must go home and think.”</p>
+
+<p>He walked slowly away, leaving the Indian gazing
+after him. Tom turned partly round as if to go back
+into the house. But he paused, and looked far up the
+valley. His eyes burned with the fire of a strong
+resolve, and his hands clenched hard. Years of Christian
+teaching could not altogether crush out the wild
+impulse of his nature which he had inherited from
+countless generations of warriors. Old though he was,
+he felt the surge of revenge welling strong in his heart.</p>
+
+<p>“Gikhi doesn’t know what he would have done to
+Bill,” he mused. “He doesn’t know what he will do
+now. Maybe Tom knows what to do. Ah, ah, Tom
+knows.”</p>
+
+<p>The missionary spent most of the day within his
+own house, busy with his writing. He was anxious to
+get his work done as soon as possible that he might
+send it outside at the first opportunity, thence to be
+forwarded to England for printing. He knew that it
+would be two years, at least, before he could receive
+the first copy for revision, and then further delay ere
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>it would be completed. By that time the Indians might
+be ready to return, so he hoped, and would be anxious
+for the enlarged books of devotion.</p>
+
+<p>Several times during the afternoon he went over to
+see how Zell was getting along. On his last visit,
+just as the sun was disappearing beyond the highest
+mountain peaks, he was delighted to find that the girl
+recognised him, and gave a slight smile as he spoke to
+her. She faintly murmured the one word “Tim,” and
+tried to tell him about her lover. But she was so weak
+that the missionary advised her not to talk just then,
+but to wait until she was stronger. He noticed that
+Tom was busy mending his snow-shoes, and asked him
+where he was going.</p>
+
+<p>“Out to the hills, mebbe,” was the evasive reply.</p>
+
+<p>“After game?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah. Wolf, mebbe.”</p>
+
+<p>The missionary asked no further questions, although
+he wondered why Tom should go hunting for a wolf.
+He forgot all about this incident, however, as he once
+again rang the little bell and began the evening service.
+His heart was full of gratitude at Zell’s speedy recovery,
+which he felt was a direct answer to his prayers.
+He offered up special thanks that night, and Kate, who
+was present instead of her husband, was deeply
+impressed.</p>
+
+<p>“The Good Lord has answered Gikhi’s prayer,” she
+told him when the service was ended.</p>
+
+<p>“There is no doubt about it,” was the reply. “He
+has promised to hear us when we ask Him in faith. He
+never fails His people.”</p>
+
+<p>“Will he bring back the Indians, Gikhi?”</p>
+
+<p>“He will, He will, Kate, in His own way, and in His
+own good time. We must be patient and keep on praying.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>He is testing us now, no doubt, that our faith in
+Him may be strengthened. Perhaps we have trusted
+too much to our own efforts, and not enough to Him.”</p>
+
+<p>That night the missionary bent over his table, while
+time sped unheeded by. He worked later than usual,
+for Love was the great theme which occupied his mind.
+It thrilled his entire being, and drove all sleep from his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“This is my commandment, that ye love one another,
+as I have loved you. Greater love hath no man than
+this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”</p>
+
+<p>He had translated these wonderful words of the
+Master, and yet he was not satisfied. He longed to
+express them in such a way that the Indians would
+have no doubt as to their meaning. He wanted them
+to know that love was the greatest thing in the world,
+and that the proof of love was service, even to the
+giving of one’s life, if necessary. Not in receiving, but
+in giving, was to serve aright. If he could only impress
+the natives with that great truth, how much might
+be accomplished.</p>
+
+<p>So deeply engrossed was he with his task, that he
+did not heed the opening of the door, which was never
+barred, nor the stealthy entrance of Bill, the Slugger,
+into the room. He was near the table when the missionary
+first became aware of his presence. He was
+greatly startled, and the pen dropped from his hand.
+Seeing who it was, a peculiar expression appeared in
+his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Where did you come from?” he asked. “I wasn’t
+expecting you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ye wern’t, eh?” the visitor snarled. “Thought I’d
+gone fer sure, did ye?”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly, after what you did to me.” The missionary
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>was standing now behind the table, his tall form
+drawn to its full height. “But I am glad you have come
+back. Is there anything I can do for you? How is
+your leg?”</p>
+
+<p>“It hurts like hell.”</p>
+
+<p>The oath annoyed the missionary, and his eyes
+flashed with anger. He thought, too, of this man’s
+treatment of Zell. What effect would mild words have
+upon such a creature? He recalled how the prophets
+of old had denounced sinners, and even Christ, Himself,
+had spoken sternly when it was necessary. He
+restrained himself, however, wishing to give the man
+another chance.</p>
+
+<p>“I am sorry you stole from me,” he said. “Had you
+asked me, I would have given you all that food, and
+the money, too, for that matter. Why did you commit
+that sin?”</p>
+
+<p>“Say, are you a fool or bughouse?” Bill questioned.
+“Ye must be one or the other to talk sich nonsense.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am a fool,” was the unexpected reply. “Yes, like
+the apostles of old, I am a fool for Christ’s sake, that I
+might win souls for Him.”</p>
+
+<p>“An’ so ye’ve made a mess of the hull d— business,
+eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“Haven’t yer Injuns left ye? If ye hadn’t been sich
+a fool, maybe they would have thought more of ye.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps they would. Anyway, I did it all for the
+best.”</p>
+
+<p>“If ye’d used a club instead of so many d— whining
+prayers, they’d had more respect fer ye. It’s the big
+stick that does things these days.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t believe it.” The words leaped forth with
+such fiery vehemence that Bill was surprised. The
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>missionary’s eyes were now blazing with indignation.
+His clenched hands rested upon the table as he faced
+his visitor. “You may sneer all you like at prayers,
+but it was through earnest prayer that the girl you so
+vilely injured in some way, I know not how, is now
+recovering.”</p>
+
+<p>For an instant Bill was caught off guard. His eyes
+expressed surprise, mingled with fear. Immediately
+he regained his self-confidence, however, laughed, and
+uttered another oath.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, what are ye talkin’ about?” he asked. “I know
+nuthin’ about any girl. I wish to G— I could run
+across a pretty one here.”</p>
+
+<p>The missionary made no reply. He stood very erect,
+looking full into the face of the man before him. He
+was trying to read his soul, to detect, if possible,
+whether he was speaking the truth. Before that
+straight steady gaze, Bill’s eyes shifted, and then
+dropped. The nobleness of this man of God stirred his
+heart with anger. He could not withstand that silent,
+unwavering look. It aroused to fury the devil within
+him more than biting words of reproach. His face
+assumed an ugly expression, and stepping forward, he
+leaned across the table.</p>
+
+<p>“Look here,” he roared, “d’ye think I’ve got time to
+waste in listenin’ to sich d— nonsense? The girl ye
+speak about is nuthin’ to me. I don’t care whether she
+lives or dies. But you’ve got something I want, an’
+the sooner ye hand it over, the better. D’ye know
+what I mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, no,” the missionary replied, shrinking back a
+little from the excited man.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s the ring ye’ve got hidden somewhere. That’s
+what I want, so out with it.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>“Oh!” The missionary started as if stabbed with a
+knife. He comprehended now the purpose of this
+man’s visit. The real vileness of his nature was fully
+revealed.</p>
+
+<p>“What are ye waitin’ fer?” Bill demanded. “Didn’t
+ye hear what I said?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I heard, but I am waiting for you to recover
+your senses.”</p>
+
+<p>“My senses are all right,” Bill retorted. “But you
+won’t have any senses left to recover if you don’t git a
+hustle on. I want that ring, and at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“How do you know that I have a ring?”</p>
+
+<p>“H’m, I know, all right. Didn’t I see Hugo, the
+trapper, give it to you last night?”</p>
+
+<p>“And were you watching?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sure, I was watchin’. Ye don’t keep any blinds or
+curtains to yer windows, see? Oh, I saw the ring, an’
+know where it came from, too. Hugo killed Bill
+Haines an’ his wife to git that. But I want it, so hurry
+up.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! was it the cause of murder?” the missionary
+asked, greatly horrified. “Where? When?”</p>
+
+<p>“Along the Yukon, near the C.D. Cut-off. Hugo
+killed Bill Haines an’ his wife, an’ threw their bodies
+into the river.”</p>
+
+<p>“How do you know this?” was the unexpected question.</p>
+
+<p>“Never mind how I know. It will all come out when
+the Police git through with their job. But hurry up,
+I want that ring.”</p>
+
+<p>A great suspicion now swept upon the missionary.
+He had not heard of any murder, but if one had been
+committed, he surmised that the man before him was
+the guilty one. He could not believe that Hugo would
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>commit such a deed. What should he do? Then he
+was suddenly aware that he was looking straight into
+the threatening muzzle of a levelled revolver.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, I guess that’ll bring ye to yer senses,” Bill
+growled. “That carries more weight than all yer pious
+prayers. That’s what will touch the heart quicker than
+anything I know.”</p>
+
+<p>“Would you commit murder for the sake of a paltry
+ring?” the missionary asked, unabashed by the danger
+which threatened him.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s up to you to stop it, then,” was the reply. “If
+ye don’t want me to commit murder, jist give up that
+ring.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I have received it in trust. It is not mine to
+give.”</p>
+
+<p>“That doesn’t make any difference to me. You kin
+explain what happened, and Hugo will understand.”</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t do such a thing,” the missionary sternly
+declared. “My life is of little value as far as this
+world is concerned. But my honor means a great deal.
+You will only get that ring over my dead body.”</p>
+
+<p>Under the strain and excitement of the situation the
+old man suddenly lifted his hand to give emphasis to
+his words. Thinking that he meant to knock aside the
+weapon, Bill’s hand quickly moved, and his finger pulled
+the trigger. There was a sharp report, a groan, and a
+heavy thud as the missionary dropped limp and helpless
+upon the floor, his head striking the table as he
+fell.</p>
+
+<p>“Serves the old fool right,” Bill muttered, as he
+stepped around the table and bent over the prostrate
+man. “That was the only way to stop his d— nonsense.
+Now fer the ring. I saw him put it in his
+pocket, an’ most likely it’s there yit.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 19<br>
+<small>Anxious Waiting</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THE storm which overcame Sergeant North, and
+wound its mystic winding-sheet over the land,
+enshrouded the little brush lean-to which Constable
+Rolfe had erected for Marion Brisbane. It was merely
+a rough makeshift affair, and yet it served its purpose.
+It was sheltered from the fierce wind by the big trees,
+and through their great outstretched branches the snow
+sifted gently down. A generous fire radiated its warmth
+and cheer, and the leaping flames melted and dissolved
+the falling flakes. Rolfe was kept busy much of the
+time searching for dry wood, and piling it near to
+serve not only for the rest of the day but during the
+long night. Having no axe, this was a difficult task,
+and he was forced to break off dead branches to add
+to his supply. Marion longed to be of some use, but
+the constable jokingly told her that a woman’s place
+was at home looking after the affairs of the household.</p>
+
+<p>“Suppose we have a turkey for dinner to-morrow,”
+he said, as he was about to start forth again on one
+of his wood-hunting trips. “Just phone your order to
+Vancouver, and have a big fat bird sent up. Our cook
+can prepare it to-night, and have it ready for the oven
+early in the morning.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am afraid that our phone is out of order,” Marion
+laughingly replied. “Suppose you call in on your way
+home and order the turkey.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>In this manner the two marooned travellers passed
+the weary hours. As night shut down upon them, they
+sang hymns and old familiar songs. Rolfe recited
+poetry and read inspiring selections from his worn and
+stained pocket manual.</p>
+
+<p>“What a pity it is,” he said, after he had finished
+several short poems, “that the ones who wrote such
+verses cannot know of the great help they are to us.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps they do know,” Marion replied, “especially
+the ones we call ‘dead.’ I like to think that the departed
+have full knowledge of what is taking place on earth.
+Perhaps even now the writers of those verses are rejoicing
+because of the help they are to us. Anyway,
+isn’t it great to feel that we never really die, but that
+our deeds live after us.”</p>
+
+<p>“It certainly is,” Rolfe acknowledged. “Tennyson
+has well expressed it in two lines when he says,</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first2">“‘Our echoes roll from soul to soul,</div>
+<div class="verse">And grow forever and forever.’</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“Now, that is the idea. Tennyson was thinking of
+someone blowing a bugle, and how the notes sounded
+far and wide. In a similar way his words echo on and
+on, even to this desolate place.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why don’t you write poetry, Mr. Rolfe?” Marion
+asked. “I am sure you could do it well. Why not try?”</p>
+
+<p>The constable’s face flushed, and he became much
+embarrassed. He rose and placed several small sticks
+upon the fire. When this had been accomplished, he
+turned to Marion.</p>
+
+<p>“I have tried my hand at it,” he confessed, “although
+so far I have accomplished very little. But when I am
+through with the Force, I hope to give expression to
+the thoughts which arise within me. There is so much
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>to write about that it will take years to tell all I want to.
+The sergeant thinks that it is all nonsense and waste of
+time. But he doesn’t seem to understand. He is so
+very practical and matter-of-fact.”</p>
+
+<p>The mention of the sergeant brought an anxious
+expression to Marion’s face. He had seldom been out
+of her mind since she had bidden him good-by, and
+watched him as he strode away. She knew what a
+difficult journey lay ahead of him, and she feared that
+he could not accomplish it on his miserable snow-shoes.
+Then when the storm swept down, her fear increased.
+Rolfe, too, was alarmed, although he spoke hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>“The sergeant is a wonderful trailsman,” he said.
+“Even if his snow-shoes should give out, he can plow
+his way through. His endurance is remarkable. Why,
+I have known him to cross a mountain range in a howling
+blizzard, and come through almost as fresh as
+when he started.”</p>
+
+<p>“But perhaps he will lose his way,” Marion suggested.</p>
+
+<p>“Not a bit of it. You can’t lose him. He can follow
+a trail by instinct. Say, he is a great man. I have been
+with him on terrible journeys, and I wouldn’t be living
+to-day but for him. He carried me several miles once
+when I played out. Don’t worry about him, Miss Brisbane.
+He’ll get through, all right.”</p>
+
+<p>Although these words cheered Marion to a certain
+degree, yet she could not help feeling uneasy. As the
+storm increased, and the wind roared overhead, and the
+trees swayed like great masts at sea, she thought of the
+man she loved battling his way through the blinding
+snow and the raging tempest. She also noted that as
+the evening wore on the constable became unusually
+silent, at times, and his eyes expressed his anxiety. She
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>understood the meaning of this, and he could not deceive
+her when occasionally he aroused himself and
+assumed an attitude of cheerfulness and unconcern.</p>
+
+<p>Rolfe, in fact, was playing a difficult part. He knew
+better than Marion the serious situation in which they
+were placed. If anything happened to the sergeant, it
+would go hard with them. They might fight their way
+through when the storm abated. But the chance was
+only one in a thousand, for now there would not be
+the least vestige of the trail left, so what could they do
+on their wretched snow-shoes?</p>
+
+<p>All through the long night Rolfe watched and kept
+the fire going. Marion slept a little. She tried to keep
+awake, but weariness overcame her. She would awake
+shivering with a fearful apprehension of impending
+evil. She could not shake off this feeling, although
+she did not mention it to her companion. The tired
+woe-begone expression upon the constable’s face when
+he thought she was not noticing him smote her heart.
+Then to see him smile so bravely when she spoke to
+him thrilled her. She admired his courage, and the
+brave spirit he was maintaining for her sake. It
+strengthened her, and made her determine that she
+would show how a woman can suffer and be strong.</p>
+
+<p>All unconsciously Marion was exerting a strong
+influence upon the constable’s impressionable and poetic
+nature. Her beauty appealed to him. The noble part
+he was performing in their present critical situation
+he considered as nothing out of the ordinary. It was
+merely what was expected of him as a member of the
+Force. In Marion Brisbane he had at last found the
+type of womanhood which had been for years but an
+ideal. Her brightness, courage, and sweet charm of
+face and manner inspired him. It was good to be near
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>her in time of need. His life had been a rough one,
+but a great inner longing, and the energizing power
+of a lofty ideal, had kept him clean and straight. He
+knew very little of the society of women, so it was
+but natural that he should be deeply affected by this
+beautiful comrade of the trail.</p>
+
+<p>This feeling, however, Rolfe kept to himself. To
+him loyalty was as vital as life. It flowed through
+every part of his being, and never for an instant did
+he dream of betraying his sergeant’s trust in him. So
+all the time he and Marion were together, neither by
+word or look did he show that she was anything more
+to him than a friend for whose welfare he was concerned.</p>
+
+<p>Marion, too, did considerable thinking. Since leaving
+Kynox she had been mentally comparing her two
+companions. She liked Rolfe for his jovial manner,
+and poetic notions. He helped to pass the weary hours,
+and to enliven the trail. But to her he seemed more
+like a boy on whom the responsibilities of life pressed
+but lightly. She would at times glance from him to
+the sergeant and note the difference between the two—one
+gay, talkative, and dependent; the other reserved,
+quiet, and self-reliant. She never associated Tom
+Rolfe with great deeds of daring, but with John North
+it was different. To her he was the very embodiment
+of a true hero. His lithe, powerful body, his strong,
+clean-cut features, and steady gray eyes appealed to
+her. It almost frightened her at times to think that
+she had won the love of such a man, and that she loved
+him.</p>
+
+<p>She thought of all this as she huddled there before
+the fire with the tempest raging overhead. She pictured
+her lover out in the storm, where, she did not
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>know. And he was doing it for her sake, that she
+might be saved. Upon himself he had taken the hardships
+and dangers of the journey. That was always
+the way of a strong man. He had not asked the constable
+to go, while he remained behind. Her heart
+thrilled at the idea, and she longed to tell him how
+proud she was of him.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the weary hours dragged by, and when at
+length the dawn of a new day dispelled the blackness
+of night, the storm slackened. The wind gradually
+died down, and the snow ceased to fall. The constable
+replenished the pile of wood while Marion prepared
+their meagre breakfast. How tired they both were of
+moose meat, and yet there was nothing else to keep life
+within their bodies.</p>
+
+<p>“Meat! meat! meat!” Rolfe exclaimed, as he staggered
+in and threw down an armful of dry sticks. “I
+shall write a poem about that some day, and make the
+word rhyme with ‘beat’ and ‘feet.’ Why, I am
+inspired now, listen to this:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Meat! meat! meat!</div>
+<div class="verse">It keeps me on my feet</div>
+<div class="verse">When I would go dead beat,</div>
+<div class="verse">And so I eat, eat, eat.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Marion smiled as she handed the constable a piece
+of broiled steak.</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps this will inspire you to make another masterpiece,”
+she bantered. “I am very thankful to be
+able to contribute something to the work of a genius.
+Poets must eat, I suppose.”</p>
+
+<p>“Right you are,” Rolfe replied. “They often wrote
+about eating. I remember what Bobbie Burns said:</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span></p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Some hae meat and canna eat,</div>
+<div class="indent">And some wad eat that want it;</div>
+<div class="verse">But we hae meat, and we can eat;</div>
+<div class="indent">Sae let the Lord be thankit.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“Yes, we hae meat,” he commented, looking somewhat
+ruefully upon his piece of burned steak, “but I
+wonder if Bobbie would say ‘Let the Lord be thankit,’
+if he had nothing but this?”</p>
+
+<p>“But you have an appetite,” Marion reminded.
+“Didn’t the poet say that ‘Some hae meat and canna
+eat’? You should be thankful for that. I am, anyway,
+and I find this meat very good.”</p>
+
+<p>Both Marion and Rolfe were feeling more cheerful
+now. This little round of levity did much to dispel
+the clouds of despair which overshadowed them during
+the night. The passing of the storm also had its effect,
+so they looked hopefully forward to a speedy relief
+from their trying situation. But as the morning wore
+away and the afternoon was partly sped, and the sergeant
+had not come, the feeling of deep concern again
+oppressed them. They tried to be cheerful, and not to
+betray their anxiety to each other. But their hearts
+were troubled, for they both strongly felt that something
+had happened to the one who alone could bring
+them the needed help. Rolfe had just replenished the
+fire for the hundredth time during the day, and was
+on the point of going after more wood for the night,
+when a cry of joy from Marion caused him to look
+quickly around. At first he could hardly believe his
+eyes, for there was Hugo, the trapper, coming toward
+them among the trees with great strides. A toboggan
+trailed behind, containing a bundle, and a pair of snow-shoes.
+His beard was thickly coated with frost, and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>he had the appearance of Santa Claus on his mission
+of goodwill.</p>
+
+<p>After her cry of joy Marion was too much overcome
+to utter another word until Hugo had thrown the rope
+from off his shoulders, and stepped from his snow-shoes.
+She then sprang to his side, and impulsively
+threw her arms around his huge body, much to Rolfe’s
+surprise. Tears of thankfulness were streaming down
+her cheeks as she looked into her father’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank God, you have come!” she at length murmured.
+“But have you met Sergeant North? Is he
+safe?”</p>
+
+<p>It was well for Marion’s peace of mind that she did
+not notice the expression which leaped into Hugo’s
+eyes as she asked that question. She wondered, though,
+why her father somewhat roughly unclasped her arms
+and moved closer to the fire. She mistook his meaning,
+thinking that he was the bearer of bad news which
+he was loath to impart. Her face turned very white.</p>
+
+<p>“Has anything happened to him?” she asked in a
+voice that was almost a whisper. “Surely he is not
+dead.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, he is not dead,” Hugo replied, without looking
+at her. “At least, he wasn’t the last time I saw him.
+But he was in a bad way when I stumbled across him
+in that storm. But never mind about him now. How
+are you two making out? Plenty of grub, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“Just what you see there,” Rolfe replied, pointing to
+the last of the moose meat hanging from the limb of a
+tree. “We’ve had nothing but meat diet for days.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, you might be worse off, young man,” Hugo
+reminded, looking keenly at the constable. “But I’ve
+something here which will be a change. It’s all I
+could scrape together, but I guess it will last until we get
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>out of this. We must not stay long, for the sergeant,
+in whom you are so much interested, is waiting our
+coming several miles away.”</p>
+
+<p>This was good news to Marion and Rolfe. They
+asked several more questions, but receiving no satisfactory
+reply, they desisted. Hugo had brought some
+tea, and when this had been prepared in a small tin can
+which he always carried with him, they were greatly
+refreshed. He had also a supply of “sourdough” bread,
+and a tin of jam. To the ones who had been living for
+days upon meat these proved great delicacies.</p>
+
+<p>“Why, this is regular hotel fare,” Rolfe remarked,
+as he helped himself to a second large slice of bread.
+“We only need the napkins and a few other accessories
+to make it the real thing.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion smiled, but Hugo seemed to take no notice
+of the young man’s remarks. In fact, he had not heard
+him. His mind was upon more important matters.
+He was tired, as well, for he had been on the march
+through most of the storm, and long before dawn that
+day. He did not tell of the terrible struggle he had
+made to reach his cabin far beyond the valley, of his
+brief rest there while he packed up his meagre supply
+of food, and his starting forth again before the storm
+had spent its fury. It was not his way to tell of such
+things. He had accomplished his purpose, and that
+gave him all the satisfaction he needed.</p>
+
+<p>But he was greatly disappointed. He had done it
+all for Marion’s sake, and upon his arrival at the camp
+in the forest her first question was about the sergeant.
+She had come to him from that world which he never
+expected to see again. She had brought a new inspiration
+into his life. She had changed him until he hardly
+knew himself. And yet for all that she was not his.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>She belonged to another, a member of the Force from
+which he had been fleeing for years. And yet he knew
+it was his own fault. He had left her and her mother
+to face the reproach of the world, and like a coward
+had fled to the wilderness. But Marion had followed
+him! She had found him! Surely there must be love
+in her heart for her wayward father.</p>
+
+<p>All this swept through his mind during the short
+time he rested at the camping-place. There were other
+things as well which caused him considerable uneasiness,
+all of which, however, he wisely kept to himself.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 20<br>
+<small>United Forces</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THE sun of the short winter day was sinking
+below the distant mountain peaks away to the
+west. It touched with its departing rays three forms
+moving slowly across a vast desolate waste of snow.
+Hugo, the trapper, and Tom Rolfe, the constable, were
+in harness, drawing the toboggan on which Marion was
+seated. The men were on snow-shoes, with Hugo
+ahead, with ropes across their shoulders. They were
+part way over the burnt region where the sergeant
+had been overcome by the storm when the sun went
+down. Ahead in the distance where the trees stood
+thick and sombre, they planned to rest for the night.
+Here they hoped to find the sergeant, and Marion’s
+heart beat fast at the thought of meeting him again.</p>
+
+<p>It was dark by the time they reached the edge of
+the forest, and a few rods among the trees they found
+the sergeant standing before a cheerful fire. His face
+brightened with joy as he saw them, and in another
+minute he had Marion clasped in his arms. Hugo and
+Rolfe pretended not to notice the meeting of the
+lovers, but busied themselves about the fire.</p>
+
+<p>Strange thoughts were beating through the trapper’s
+mind for all his apparent unconcern. How he longed
+for Marion to greet him in such an affectionate manner
+as she did the sergeant. He was her father, while the
+other she had known but a short time. A sudden impulse
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>swept upon him to get off by himself, and forget
+forever that he had a daughter. He would crush out
+every vestige of affection from his heart, and turn his
+hand more strongly than ever against all mankind.
+He had been a weak fool to be so easily deluded by
+mere sentiment.</p>
+
+<p>He straightened himself up with a jerk from his
+bending position. Yes, he would go at once, pretending
+that he had business elsewhere. But just then
+Sergeant North stepped toward him, and held out his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>“I want to thank you for what you have done,” he
+began. “I can never repay you. Let us henceforth
+be friends.”</p>
+
+<p>Taken completely aback by this unexpected move,
+Hugo hesitated. It was only for a minute, however,
+and then he drew his body to its full height and looked
+steadily into the eyes of the man standing before him.</p>
+
+<p>“How can we be friends?” he asked. “Am not I
+a suspected criminal? Have you not been seeking me
+for years? But for a peculiar turn of events, I would
+now be away in the fastness of the hills where you
+could never find me. I am your prisoner now, so how
+can captor and captive be friends?”</p>
+
+<p>“You are no captive of mine,” the sergeant calmly
+replied. “You may leave this place whenever you wish,
+and no hand will be raised to restrain you. I never
+yet arrested a man who did what you have done for
+us.”</p>
+
+<p>“But how can you face your commanding officer
+when you meet him if you let me go? In the eyes of
+the law I am a criminal. Have you forgotten that?”</p>
+
+<p>“I never knew it to forget, Hugo. Explain what
+you mean.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>“About that murder near the C. D. Cut-Off, of
+course. Am I not suspected of that? Have you not
+been on my trail ever since you heard of my visit to
+the Kynox hospital with the little child?”</p>
+
+<p>“You are right, but only to a certain extent. Your
+actions naturally aroused our suspicions, especially
+after you fled that night from the cabin when we had
+taken shelter from the storm. But I had no orders
+from Headquarters to follow you. I merely took the
+matter into my own hands while on patrol from the
+river to The Gap. I wished to overtake you to find out
+from your own lips what you knew about that murder.
+But now I would no more think of suspecting you than
+I would Marion. You are too noble a man to do such a
+diabolical deed. Do you not believe me?”</p>
+
+<p>“And you say that you never had orders to follow
+me and arrest me?” Hugo asked in surprise. “Are you
+sure that the Force hasn’t been on the watch for me
+for years? Haven’t I been looked upon as a criminal
+escaped from justice?”</p>
+
+<p>Into the sergeant’s mind there came all at once something
+which partly explained the reason of the strange
+actions of the man standing before him. He had evidently
+been labouring for years under a great misapprehension.
+He had been obsessed with the idea that
+the Police were searching for him. It was quite
+apparent that the man had fled from the ways of
+civilisation, but to imagine that he could escape in the
+northland was ridiculous. Of all places on the earth
+the Yukon territory was the worst region for any
+criminal to flee for refuge. Here the two Divisions
+of the Mounted Police spread out their marvellous net
+into the most remote recesses. No miscreant had ever
+yet escaped, no matter to what part of the world he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>had fled. Had they wanted Hugo, the trapper, they
+could have taken him years ago. They knew of his
+wanderings, and his peculiarities. Although the man
+was a mystery, they never interfered with his manner
+of living. To them he was a harmless being, one of
+many dwelling in the country.</p>
+
+<p>“We never considered you as a criminal,” the sergeant
+replied. “We never had any orders to arrest
+you.”</p>
+
+<p>“You didn’t!” Hugo exclaimed. “Why, then, did
+you demand me to surrender when I found you wallowing
+about in the snow, overcome by the storm?”</p>
+
+<p>“I wanted to hold you that you might give evidence
+in the murder case. And, besides, I guess I must have
+been half crazy that day. I hardly knew what a fool-thing
+I was doing.”</p>
+
+<p>“H’m, you are certainly right. But it was a mighty
+plucky thing to do, as I told you then. Why, I could
+have knocked you on the head and no one would have
+been the wiser. It would have been charged to the
+storm.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why didn’t you do it? It was your great opportunity.”</p>
+
+<p>“Because I am not a brute. And, further, for my
+daughter’s sake. Now you understand.”</p>
+
+<p>“I do,” the sergeant replied. “And for her sake,
+if for nothing else, let us be friends.”</p>
+
+<p>Once more he held out his hand, which Hugo immediately
+grasped. For a few seconds they faced
+each other without a word. Their eyes met in a steady
+look, and their hearts thrilled. Thus two strong men
+became friends there in the heart of the great wilderness.
+The bond of union was sealed which neither
+would lightly break.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>All this had been of intense interest to Marion. She
+listened to the conversation, and studied the faces of
+the two men with fast-beating heart. But when they
+at length clasped hands, she sprang forward and threw
+her arms about her father. Her eyes were moist with
+tears, but her face was radiant with joy.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I am so glad, so glad!” she murmured. “Now
+we can all be happy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, yes, so we can,” Hugo replied, his heart
+lighter than it had been for years. “And something
+to eat will make us happier still.”</p>
+
+<p>“Supper all ready on the dining-car,” was the startling
+and unexpected announcement from Rolfe, who
+had been busy preparing the meal. His face was beaming
+with satisfaction as the three turned toward him.
+“Seats for two right here,” he continued, motioning to
+a blanket spread out upon some fir boughs. “Please
+walk this way.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are to be congratulated, Mr. Rolfe,” Marion
+smilingly told him. “You have served a wonderful
+supper.”</p>
+
+<p>“It certainly is, Miss Brisbane. Fried moose steak,
+with things we call ‘potatoes,’ bread, hardtack, biscuits,
+jam, and tea. Say, this is a banquet after what we’ve
+been eating.”</p>
+
+<p>“Poetry, eh, Tom?” the sergeant queried. “Those
+are the best words I’ve heard you utter in a long time.
+That’s the kind of poetry which appeals to me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, that’s nothing to what I can do, sergeant. Just
+listen to this:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Give me, oh, give me, just as I am,</div>
+<div class="verse">Potatoes and moose steak, hardtack and jam.</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“Doesn’t that strike you as a masterpiece? Let me
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>sing it for you. I am sure you will enjoy it. I can
+add more lines as I go along.”</p>
+
+<p>“Mercy! Mercy, Tom!” the sergeant exclaimed,
+taking his seat at Marion’s side. “We’ve come through
+enough hardships of late. Do you wish to inflict on
+us any more?”</p>
+
+<p>“I only wanted to cheer you all up,” Rolfe explained.
+“After your most solemncoly and dramatic spiel, I
+thought a little diversion wouldn’t come amiss. However,
+if you don’t appreciate my efforts, I shall keep my
+great thoughts to myself. The course of true genius,
+like love, never did run smooth. I guess it’s something
+like what Crabbe, the poet, said:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first2">“‘Genius! thou gift of Heav’n! thou light divine!</div>
+<div class="verse">Amid what dangers art thou doom’d to shine!’”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>While Rolfe was thus talking, Hugo was watching
+him most intently. His gray eyes shone with humor,
+a striking contrast to the fire of fear and rage which
+had so often gleamed in those same orbs.</p>
+
+<p>“Young man,” he began, “your words do me good.
+It’s been long years since I have heard the light chatter
+of youth. Tragedy has been hanging dark over my
+life. It has surrounded me on every trail, and entered
+into my very soul. I have been a victim of gloom and
+despair. To me the past was as a closed book, the
+present a period of misery, and the future held out
+no hope. At times I had almost forgotten that I was
+a man, and was in danger of becoming a mere brute.
+But a change has taken place. The spirit of heaviness
+has been removed, and I see with other eyes. Give
+me your hand, young man, and let us shake. I like
+your buoyant spirit.”</p>
+
+<p>Rolfe was much surprised at this unexpected speech,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>and as he seized the trapper’s outstretched hand in a
+firm grip, his bronzed face flushed with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you, sir,” he replied. “I am pleased to know
+that you appreciate my poetic chatter, and that it has
+done something to dispel the clouds of darkness from
+your soul. I hope the rest of our discerning company
+will make a note of this. It is certainly great to have
+such peace and harmony reigning in our midst. This
+has been a regular old-time experience meeting. I
+shall now call on the sergeant to lead us in singing the
+‘Doxology.’ He has a wonderful voice, which once
+heard can never be forgotten.”</p>
+
+<p>The truce agreed upon that night was a real one.
+It was a calm after storm, peace after conflict. All
+were weary after the toil of the day and for lack of
+sleep, and it was a great comfort to sit near the bright
+fire and talk about the events of the last few days.
+Marion’s face grew grave as Hugo told about finding
+the half-breed girl, lost, demented, and how he had
+taken her to one of his cabins, and from there to The
+Gap. He passed lightly over what that journey had
+meant to him, and how for several miles he had been
+forced to carry the unconscious girl in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>“Poor Zell!” Marion said. “She was so bright and
+animated when we left Big Chance. She was longing
+to hurry back to be once more with her wounded young
+lover. She must have become lost when she went after
+the wood.”</p>
+
+<p>“The girl was not lost at first,” Hugo replied. “She
+was carried off by that villain, Bill, the Slugger. I
+have proof, and when we come face to face there will
+be another kind of experience meeting. The mean,
+contemptible cur! Why, he even rewarded the hospitality
+of the missionary at The Gap, that noble man of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>God, by stealing all of his food, and lighting out some
+time in the night. It might be as well, sergeant, to
+round up that brute and ask him a few questions about
+that murder near the C. D. Cut-off.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am not surprised at what you tell me,” the sergeant
+replied. “Bill is a bad man, and we need him. I
+was hoping to be first at The Gap to head him off.
+The task will be much more difficult now, so we shall
+need your help.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you shall have it,” Hugo emphatically declared.
+“I shall do everything in my power to bring
+the guilty to justice.”</p>
+
+<p>For a long time that night the sergeant and Hugo
+talked after Marion and the constable were asleep.
+The trapper told all he knew about finding the Haines
+child in the lonely cabin, and the blood-stains leading
+to the river. But of the finding of the diamond ring
+he said nothing. He would explain about that when
+he received it from the missionary, and handed it over
+to the sergeant.</p>
+
+<p>“I never expected to tell you all this,” he said in
+conclusion. “I looked upon the Force as my deadly
+enemy, for reasons which you already partly know.
+What led me to flee to this country I do not wish to
+explain now. That can wait. But I see things in a
+new light, and I am glad. I have been living long
+enough in hell, but have at last escaped. There, now,
+I think we have talked enough. We need rest, for a
+hard journey lies ahead of us to-morrow.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 21<br>
+<small>Helping Hands</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">INDIAN TOM had made special preparations for
+his trip to the hills. He kept his plans to himself,
+merely telling Kate that he hoped to bring back a fat
+mountain sheep. Old though he was, it was nothing
+out of the ordinary for him to go a short distance from
+The Gap and return with fresh meat. Kate, with her
+keen intuition, surmised that her husband had something
+more important in his mind, and that he intended
+going farther than usual. She made no comment,
+however, for Tom was master of his own affairs, and
+possessed of a strong will. Kate, like other Indian
+women, had been trained from childhood to be silent
+and to wait.</p>
+
+<p>With everything in readiness, Tom planned to start
+early the next morning. With his pack of food
+strapped across his shoulders, moccasins on his feet,
+and rifle in hand, he slipped forth from his cabin and
+made his way to the mission house. He wished to see
+the Gikhi, to tell him that he would be away for several
+days, and to ask him to look after the welfare of his
+wife and Zell. He knew that the missionary was an
+early riser, and expected to find him seated at the table
+busy with his writing. He had often visited the house
+early in the morning and had always seen the light
+shining through the little window.</p>
+
+<p>As he drew near the mission house he was surprised
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>to find it wrapped in darkness. The Gikhi must have
+overslept himself, he thought, and at first he hesitated
+about awaking him. But as his business was of urgent
+importance, he tapped upon the door, and then pushed
+it gently open. All was dark within and the room was
+cold. A fear that something was wrong suddenly
+entered his mind. He took a few steps forward, and
+then stopped to listen. But not a sound could he hear.</p>
+
+<p>“Gikhi!” he called.</p>
+
+<p>Receiving no reply, he felt certain that something
+had happened to his beloved missionary. Laying aside
+his rifle, he brought forth from a pocket of his jacket
+a small candle. This he lighted, and when the flame
+was large enough, he looked carefully around. At
+first he could see nothing, but as he advanced to examine
+the bedroom, his eyes rested upon the form of
+the missionary lying upon the floor near the table.
+With a gurgle of consternation, Tom stooped and
+looked upon the prostrate man. He felt his face, and
+found that it was strangely cold. Quickly placing the
+candle upon the table, he lifted the missionary in his
+arms, carried him over and laid him down upon the
+cot on the other side of the stove. Going back for the
+candle, he looked keenly around. But nothing could
+he see to give him any clue to the cause of the trouble.
+He then went over to the cot, and again felt the still,
+cold face. He placed his ear close to the missionary’s
+mouth, but could detect no sign of life.</p>
+
+<p>Forgotten now was his visit to the hills. His only
+thought was for his beloved missionary. He needed
+help, and the only one who could be of any assistance
+was his wife. Leaving the house, he hurried to his
+own cabin, told Kate in a few words what he had
+found, and ordered her to come at once. Zell was
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>sleeping quietly, so following her husband, Kate was
+soon at the mission house. She rushed at once to the
+missionary’s side, and looking upon him lying there
+so still and white, a great cry of grief broke from her
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>“Gikhi! Gikhi!” she called.</p>
+
+<p>But for the first time no response came to her earnest
+appeal. The man who had led her out of darkness of
+heathenism was deaf to her voice. Wildly she looked
+around, and then up into Tom’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“Is he dead?” she asked. “Has someone killed
+him?”</p>
+
+<p>“It looks like it,” Tom replied, placing the forefinger
+of his right hand close to the side of the missionary’s
+head. “See! See! Blood! Gikhi has been shot!
+Bad! Ugh!”</p>
+
+<p>Then a wild rage filled his heart. The spirit of
+revenge, inherited from countless generations of warriors,
+possessed him. The Gikhi, the man who meant
+so much to him, had been shot by an enemy! He
+surmised who it was, for no one but Bill, the Slugger,
+was in the neighbourhood. Swiftly he turned and spoke
+a few rapid words to his wife. He next set to work
+and built a fire in the stove. In a short time the genial
+heat was pervading the room. He then started to work
+upon the body of the missionary, rubbing the cold form
+and applying hot cloths.</p>
+
+<p>Night passed, and morning dawned, but still Tom
+remained at his task. Could he ever bring life into
+that still form? But at length he was rewarded, for
+slowly a warmth returned to the body, and the beating
+of the heart could be detected. Kate went back to her
+own cabin to see how Zell was getting along, and returned
+ere long with a cup containing a little Indian
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>medicine, concocted the previous summer from various
+roots and herbs. Between the missionary’s firm-set
+teeth some of this was pressed, and in a short time the
+faithful natives had the satisfaction of seeing the Gikhi
+give a sigh and open his eyes. He then closed them
+again, and remained as motionless as before.</p>
+
+<p>All through the morning the Indians did what they
+could for the missionary. They knew, however, that
+their efforts were but temporary, and that the white
+doctor at Kynox was urgently needed. But who could
+go for him? There was not an Indian runner anywhere
+near, and the hospital was far away.</p>
+
+<p>Several times during the morning Kate went over
+to see how Zell was getting along. The girl, who was
+now greatly improved, wondered at the Indian woman’s
+excited manner, and why she was in such a hurry to
+return to the mission house. She questioned her, but
+received only an evasive answer. Zell had now reached
+the stage of recovery when she was restless and impatient
+to be doing something. Although still weak
+from the terrible experiences through which she had
+passed, she was anxious to go back to Tim, and to take
+the Gikhi with her. How they would go, she had no
+definite idea. But her faith in the missionary was so
+great that she believed he could do the impossible. She
+had not spoken to him as yet about her injured lover
+at Big Chance. She wanted to see him alone, when
+Tom and Kate were not present. She was greatly
+worried, too, about the white woman she had left
+by the camp-fire that night of the terrible happenings.
+She had spoken of her to Tom and Kate, but they
+knew nothing. Her mind was still confused and it was
+difficult for her to think very clearly. But Tim and
+the white woman were ever before her. They were in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>need, so she must go to them. The Gikhi alone was
+the one who could help her.</p>
+
+<p>All through the morning Zell worried and wondered.
+She dragged her weak body to the little window facing
+the mission house and watched through a small clear
+space in the frost-bedecked panes. It was a lonely vigil
+she kept, for Kate was a long time in coming. What
+could be keeping her and Tom so long with the Gikhi?
+She looked westward and the great towering mountains
+met her eyes. The Golden Horn, robed in its snowy
+mantle, caught the bright beams of the winter sun,
+and smiled its benediction over the stark and silent land.
+Far away in a little crouching creek at its base was
+Big Chance, where lay the one she loved most on earth.
+And she could not go to him. She did not know
+whether he was dead or alive. Tears came to her eyes
+and flowed down her cheeks. Her face was wan and
+pale, a striking contrast to her animated countenance
+of a few days before.</p>
+
+<p>At last she felt that she could endure the suspense
+no more. Kate had been away longer than usual, and
+she was sure that something was wrong with Gikhi.
+Picking up a blanket and wrapping it about her head
+and shoulders in Indian fashion, she left the cabin, and
+slowly made her way along the path leading to the
+mission house. Several times she tottered, so weak was
+she, but at length reaching the door, she leaned against
+the building and listened. Hearing no sound from
+within, she softly pushed open the door and entered.
+The sight which met her eyes caused her to pause and
+her heart to beat fast. She saw the Gikhi lying upon
+the cot, with Kate kneeling by his side, and Tom standing
+a few feet away. With a cry which caused Kate
+to leap to her feet, the girl rushed forward. She
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>reached the cot, and exhausted by the exertion, she
+dropped upon her knees and threw her arms over the
+still form lying there. Not a word did she utter, but
+sobbed as if her heart would break.</p>
+
+<p>Kate and Tom looked upon the weeping girl with
+surprise, and spoke low to each other. Then the woman
+laid her right hand upon the girl’s shoulder and gently
+shook her.</p>
+
+<p>“You should not be here,” she reproved. “This is
+no place for you.”</p>
+
+<p>But Zell made no reply. If she heard what was said
+she gave no sign, but with outstretched arms and bent
+head continued her sobbing.</p>
+
+<p>Kate spoke more sharply to her now, and tried to
+draw her away. This aroused the girl, and she turned
+fiercely upon the woman.</p>
+
+<p>“Leave me alone,” she cried. “I have the right to
+be here. Gikhi was good to me, and now he is dead!”</p>
+
+<p>Again she bowed her head and remained perfectly
+motionless, Kate and Tom watching her, not knowing
+what to do. The girl puzzled them. They knew that
+she had run away from the mission school, which had
+been a great grief to the missionary and his wife. Now
+she had come back, and avowed her love for the Gikhi.</p>
+
+<p>They were still standing there when a noise outside
+arrested their attention. Then a knock sounded upon
+the door. As no one entered, Tom crossed the room,
+opened the door and looked out. Standing before him
+were four weary-looking people, three of whom he
+at once recognised. But the white woman he did not
+know.</p>
+
+<p>“Is the missionary at home?” Sergeant North asked,
+surprised to see the Indian.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>Tom, however, made no reply, but stared intently
+at the sergeant.</p>
+
+<p>“Is anything wrong with the missionary?” the sergeant
+asked. “Is he sick?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah, Gikhi much seek,” Tom replied. “Gikhi
+all sam’ dead.”</p>
+
+<p>With a bound the sergeant was in the room, closely
+followed by his companions. Hearing the strange
+voices, Zell lifted her head and looked around. Seeing
+Marion, she staggered to her feet, and with a pathetic
+cry of joy and surprise started to go to her. But the
+recent excitement had been too much for her. She
+tottered and would have fallen had not Hugo sprang
+forward and caught her in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>“What is the meaning of all this?” he asked, looking
+sternly at Kate. “What has happened to the missionary?”</p>
+
+<p>“Bad white man shoot Gikhi,” the Indian woman
+explained. “Here,” and she placed her hand to her
+head. “Put Zell in room,” she added, pointing to the
+bedroom on the left.</p>
+
+<p>Hugo did as he was ordered, carried the unconscious
+girl into the little room, and laid her gently upon the
+bed. Marion followed, and bent over the girl. Then
+she went to the door and spoke to Kate.</p>
+
+<p>“Bring me some cold water,” she ordered. “Quick.”</p>
+
+<p>When this was brought, she bathed Zell’s face, and
+ere long had the satisfaction of seeing the girl open
+her eyes. For an instant she stared at Marion, and
+then the light of recognition dawned in her eyes, and
+her lips parted in a smile.</p>
+
+<p>“Are you feeling better now?” Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, better. But how did you come here? Where
+have you been? I thought you were lost.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>“I am safe, Zell,” was the reply. “But never mind
+about that now. I shall tell you later.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion was about to leave to go back into the other
+room, when Zell caught her by the hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Save the Gikhi’s life,” she pleaded. “Don’t let him
+die. I want him to speak to me again, to tell me that
+he forgives me.”</p>
+
+<p>“I shall do what I can for him,” Marion assured.
+“But if he has been shot, he will need more aid than
+I can give.”</p>
+
+<p>“The doctor, you mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. I wish Dr. Rainsford could come. He might
+be able to find the bullet and save the missionary’s life.”</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t some one go for him?” Zell asked. “Oh, if
+I were only strong, I would go myself. Perhaps he is
+at Big Chance now. You said he would come to see
+Tim, didn’t you, Miss?”</p>
+
+<p>“I left word at Kynox for him to come as soon as
+he arrived. But that seems a long time ago now, and
+he may have made the trip and returned to Kynox.”</p>
+
+<p>“But perhaps he has remained to look after Tim,”
+Zell eagerly suggested. “Something tells me that he
+is at Big Chance now. Wouldn’t he come like the wind
+if he knew the Gikhi needed him?”</p>
+
+<p>“I believe he would,” Marion agreed. “The doctor
+is a remarkable man, and always willing to make any
+sacrifice in order to help others.”</p>
+
+<p>“But how can we get word to him? Who will make
+the long, hard journey?”</p>
+
+<p>“I will.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion gave a sudden start, and looked quickly
+round at these words. Just behind her stood her
+father, bulking large in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>“The girl is right,” he said. “I happened to overhear
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>what she said. The doctor may be at Big Chance.
+Anyway, if he isn’t there he will be somewhere.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you will go—father!” Marion exclaimed in
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“If I don’t, who will? The missionary is too good
+a man to let die without making an effort to save his
+life.”</p>
+
+<p>“But suppose you are overtaken by a storm, a snow-slide,
+a pack of wolves, or some other terrible thing?
+That trail over which we came lies right in the very
+shadow of death.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo merely smiled at his daughter’s anxiety. How
+could he explain that dangers meant nothing to him?
+The wilderness was his home, and a journey which
+might appal others was as life to his being. He also
+kept to himself another reason why he wished to go for
+the doctor. He believed that the diamond ring which
+he had intrusted to the missionary was the cause of the
+shooting. He had made a brief search for it, but could
+not find it. There was but one explanation, according
+to his way of thinking. Someone must have been
+watching through the window that night he had given
+the ring to Charles Norris. Only one man in the vicinity,
+he felt certain, would commit such a deed. Hugo,
+accordingly, felt somewhat responsible for what had
+happened to the missionary, and it was necessary for
+him to do all in his power to help him.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the bedroom, Marion went to the side of the
+unconscious man. She looked upon his pale face and
+long beard. How noble he seemed lying there, like a
+warrior at rest, so she thought. He was breathing,
+but so low that only with difficulty could it be detected.
+The sergeant was standing near, while the constable
+was at the stove preparing something for supper. Tom
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>and Kate were nowhere to be seen. They had slipped
+out of the room and had gone to their own cabin
+shortly after the arrival of the white people.</p>
+
+<p>“What are we to do, Marion?” the sergeant asked.
+“This is a bad job, and the man responsible for this
+deed must be brought to justice. But in the meantime
+what are we going to do with this man?”</p>
+
+<p>“Suppose we move him from here,” Marion suggested.
+“Isn’t that his bedroom over there?” and she
+looked toward a door on the left. “You men can carry
+him in while I go and prepare the bed.”</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes this was done. The missionary
+was laid gently upon his own bed, and for a time he
+was left alone. A little later Rolfe summoned them
+to supper, and while they were eating they discussed
+their plans for the future. Marion agreed to remain
+with the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>“Zell will be with me,” she explained, “and I know
+that the Indian woman who was here when we came
+will do what she can. I hope that you all will be back
+soon without any mishap.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am sorry to leave you,” the sergeant replied, “but
+there is nothing else to do. It is our duty, you see,
+and that must come first.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I hope nothing will happen to you out there.
+The mountains beyond here are very dangerous places,
+so I have heard. Will you follow right after that
+wretched man?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, until we find him dead or alive. But I don’t
+believe he will be very far away, owing to the injury
+to his foot. You remember what Hugo told us.”</p>
+
+<p>“But he can shoot, though. He can hide and watch
+you coming, and can shoot you both down.”</p>
+
+<p>“We shall have to take that risk, Marion. But I
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>guess we are too old hands to be caught napping, are
+we not, Tom?”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess you’re right, sergeant,” Rolfe replied.
+“Why, we’re going to do wonders out there. Some
+day I shall write a poem about it which will beat
+Tennyson’s ‘Charge of the Light Brigade’ all to pieces.
+It will tell about Sergeant North leading a lone constable
+into the jaws of death with mountain to the
+right of them, with mountain to the left of them, with
+mountain in front of them. Such a poem should make
+me famous.”</p>
+
+<p>“That will be too much of a fuss about the pursuit
+of one man, and lame at that,” the sergeant dryly replied.
+“Surely you can hit upon a more heroic subject.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I’ll make it heroic enough, sergeant, never fear.
+I shall bring in about a lone woman left in fear and
+trembling, while two heroes marched forth to avenge
+the wrong done to an old man. Never you mind, I
+shall fix it up in great style.”</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the men to continue their talking, Marion
+arose and went into the bedroom where the missionary
+was lying. He was just as she had left him. Sitting
+down by his side, she watched him. A great respect
+for this man stole into her heart. She had heard much
+about him, and his wonderful devotion and self-sacrifice.
+Her heart thrilled at the thought of what he had
+given up for a great Cause. And was this to be the
+end of it all? No worldly applause, no honor, and
+an apparent defeat of all his efforts. She spoke of it
+that night to the sergeant as they sat talking while the
+rest slept.</p>
+
+<p>“Is such a life wasted?” she asked. “Will there be
+no result of all his labors?”</p>
+
+<p>“His work can never die,” the sergeant quietly replied.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>“The Indians have deserted him and his teaching
+for a time. But it cannot be for long. Some day,
+I believe, they will see the error of their ways and
+return to him again.”</p>
+
+<p>“But suppose he should die?”</p>
+
+<p>“Then another will reap the harvest. One sows and
+another reaps.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 22<br>
+<small>The Messenger</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">FROM early dawn Tom, the Indian, had been on
+the trail. Dusk was settling over the land as he
+paused on the brow of a hill and looked anxiously down
+into the valley below. His eyes were keenly alert, his
+ears attentive to the least sound, and he sniffed the air
+for the camp-fire scent. He was weary, and longed to
+rest. But he had an important mission to fulfil, so he
+could not stop until that was accomplished. He was
+old and unaccustomed to hard travelling. His trips of
+late had been to the hills surrounding The Gap for
+mountain sheep, grouse, and ptarmigan. Only a great
+incentive had induced him to undertake this venture.
+He had his doubts as to how he would be received by
+the Indians scattered over the hunting-grounds. They
+had acted in a strange and rebellious mood of late, so
+the hope of influencing them was not very encouraging.
+But the vision of a wronged girl and the wounded
+Gikhi animated his soul, and inspired him with an
+overmastering determination. If what had recently
+happened at The Gap would not open the eyes of the
+Indians and give them a change of heart, nothing else
+would. He felt that the time was opportune, and that
+he must make the most of it.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the brow of the hill he descended into the
+valley, and ere long had the satisfaction of seeing a
+light among the trees not far ahead. That Indians
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>were encamped there was certain, and in a few minutes
+he came in sight of a big log lean-to where a number
+of natives were gathered around a cheerful fire. Several
+dogs heralded his approach, while a number of men
+leaped to their feet and ordered the animals to be still.
+In another minute Tom was in their midst, and accorded
+a hearty welcome. All were glad to see him for
+his sake alone, if for nothing else. They concealed
+their curiosity, for they were well aware that only a
+matter of extreme importance would bring the old man
+so far from his home in the dead of winter.</p>
+
+<p>About a dozen people, men, women, and children,
+were encamped here. They were a hardy lot, well
+enured to the cold, and living the simple life. This was
+their natural domain, and here they were free from the
+vices of the frontier towns and mining camps. Could
+they have been kept here, all would have been well with
+them. But the attractions and temptations of lighted
+streets, gaily-bedecked stores, and warm saloons, were
+hard to be resisted. Such things formed the principal
+topic of conversation during the long winter evenings,
+and all looked eagerly forward to spring when they
+could once more gratify their desires.</p>
+
+<p>Tom knew of all this and how hard it would be for
+them to be drawn away from such allurements. He felt
+that he might influence the older ones, but had little
+hope of doing anything with the young men and
+women. He did not at first explain the purpose of his
+coming, but after he had eaten the food which was set
+before him, he sat near the fire and talked about many
+things except that which was nearest his heart. He
+heard also how the Indians were getting along with
+their season’s hunt, as well as bits of gossip from other
+encampments.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>After a while, however, Tom laid aside the pipe he
+was smoking, and took a little book from a pocket
+inside his buckskin jacket. This he opened, and then
+looked around upon his companions.</p>
+
+<p>“You all know what this is,” he began. “It was
+given to us by the Gikhi at The Gap. Some of you
+remember when the Gikhi first came to live among us.
+His body was strong then, his eyes bright, and his hair
+black. We opposed him, and the medicine men stirred
+us up against him. Several times we tried to kill him,
+but the Great Spirit always saved the Gikhi. He was
+good to us, and when a plague came upon us, he cared
+for us, nursed us when we were sick, and saved many
+lives. When we were hungry he always shared with
+us his food. But he did more than that. He started a
+school for our little ones, taught them to read and
+write, and how to do many useful things. Above all,
+he gave us the Great Message which changed our lives,
+and lifted us from the level of the brutes. Before he
+came, we treated our wives like slaves, and worse than
+dogs. Now it is altogether different. Our wives are
+our companions, and we use them right. Before the
+Gikhi came, baby girls were badly treated. Mothers
+often let them die rather than permit them to grow up
+to lead hard lives. Now our little ones are well cared
+for. Before the Gikhi came, we were always waging
+war upon neighbouring tribes. We thirsted for battle
+and slaughter. Now we are all living in peace. And
+before the Gikhi came we allowed our old Indians to
+die without any care. We would abandon them on the
+trails, and let them perish. That is all changed now,
+and our old men and women are well looked after.
+Before the Gikhi came we had no knowledge of Him
+who came on earth and died that we might be saved.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>We know now. The Gikhi did all that for us. He
+gave us this book, and taught us how to read it. Here
+we find the Great Message of life and Eternal Hope,
+hope which we never had before. Our little ones have
+been taught to sing hymns, and you all remember what
+wonderful services we had in the church which the
+Gikhi built. We were very happy then, and all looked
+forward to coming back to The Gap to hear the Message
+from the Gikhi’s lips.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom paused, while a sad expression overspread his
+face. He noted how intently all had listened to his
+words. He believed that he was making some impression
+upon them.</p>
+
+<p>“A great change came,” he continued, “which broke
+up the Gikhi’s work. Gold was discovered, and the
+white men flocked into our country, and you know
+what they did. They brought in hootch which ruined
+our young men and women, and many of the older
+ones, too. Our girls were led astray, and the school
+broken up. The influence of the Gikhi was gone, for
+the Indians nearly all left him. His wife died, I believe
+through grief. She loved the Indians, and she was
+always a friend to them. The Gikhi was left alone,
+but every night he rang the little bell and held service
+in the church. He always prayed that the Indians
+would come back, and he said that he wanted to be
+there when they came. But now I am afraid it will be
+too late, and that the Indians will never see the Gikhi
+again.”</p>
+
+<p>Again Tom paused, and for a few seconds he sat
+very still, his head bent forward. That he was in deep
+grief, the Indians were well aware.</p>
+
+<p>“Has Tom bad news to give?” one of the natives
+asked. “Is the Gikhi sick?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>“Ah, ah, the Gikhi is more than sick,” Tom replied,
+as he lifted his head. “An enemy came at night and
+shot the Gikhi.”</p>
+
+<p>At these words the men sprang to their feet and a
+babel of voices ensued. Tom was plied with questions,
+so he told all he knew, and also about what had happened
+to Zell. Deep, burning indignation filled the
+hearts of all present, and they vowed vengeance upon
+the one who had committed the dastardly deed.</p>
+
+<p>“Where is Bill now?” was asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Somewhere in the mountains,” Tom explained.
+“The Police are after him. They will catch him before
+long, and take him back to The Gap.”</p>
+
+<p>“The Indians will help to catch Bill,” a stalwart
+hunter announced. “They will track him down.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let the Police do that,” Tom replied. “The Indians
+must go back to The Gap. They must show their love
+for the Gikhi. They must give up their bad ways.
+They have wandered too far already, but it is not too
+late. Will the Indians do that?”</p>
+
+<p>The critical moment had at last arrived, and Tom
+anxiously waited for a reply. He knew how much
+these Indians had been stirred by what they had just
+heard. But would it affect their actions? And while
+he waited, the oldest hunter present lifted his hand for
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>“We have just received very sad and important
+news,” he began. “It is a great grief to us to learn
+what has happened to the Gikhi. Our hearts are all
+the more sad because we have left him and neglected
+his teachings. I have been thinking much this winter
+while out in the mountains. I have seen our young
+men and women wandering into strange trails, and
+leading lives far worse than before the Gikhi came into
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>our midst. It is not good for them, and unless a change
+takes place the Indians will all be ruined. I have been
+reading the little book that Gikhi gave us, and on many
+nights when alone by my camp-fire I have studied the
+Message of the Great White Chief who came to die for
+us. If we follow His trail all will be well. The Gikhi
+has told us what to do, and he himself has set us the
+example. He did not come among us to cheat us in
+trade. He did not use hard words, but was always
+gentle. He did not bring hootch among us, but he
+brought us the Living Message to save our souls. He
+became as one of us, sharing our joys and sorrows, and
+healing our bodies. And what have we done in return?
+We have been false to him who did so much for us.
+We have followed the trails of the enemy, and now one
+of their number has stricken down the Gikhi. Let us
+call all the Indians together, go back to The Gap, and
+be once more with the Gikhi. He may die, as Tom
+says, but let us be there when he starts on the Long
+Trail, and it may be that he will see and understand.
+Around our beloved Gikhi let us gather, old and young,
+and promise to be true to the teaching of the Great
+White Chief in Heaven. All who agree with what I
+have said let them now speak.”</p>
+
+<p>For a few minutes there was silence when the old
+Indian had finished. At length one by one the hunters
+expressed their views, and all with one consent agreed
+to return to The Gap, and renew their allegiance. It
+was an impressive scene to behold those husky natives
+give voice to the strong conviction which animated
+their souls. Tom’s eyes glowed with pleasure, and
+when the men ceased speaking, he lifted up the book
+he had been holding in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Let this be our guide,” he said. “What it contains
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>will do us more good than the words of the bad white
+men. I am now going to read a Message from the
+Great White Chief.”</p>
+
+<p>Then in a clear voice he read in the rhythmical native
+tongue the story which can never grow old, of the
+Good Shepherd seeking the sheep which had gone
+astray in the wilderness until He found it. He read the
+words with intense pathos, and when he had ended, he
+closed the book, and lifting up his voice, he began the
+hymn of “Nearer My God to Thee,” of which the
+Indians were very fond.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first">“Ndo nyet nyakkwum Ttia</div>
+<div class="verse">Ndo nyet nyakkwum,</div>
+<div class="verse">Kwizyit nititae,</div>
+<div class="verse">Guselshit chi.</div>
+<div class="verse">Tthui sih chilig telya</div>
+<div class="verse">Ndo nyet nyakkwum Ttia,</div>
+<div class="verse">Ndo nyet nyakkwum.”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The hymn ended, Tom dropped upon his knees, his
+companions doing likewise, and offered up a few simple
+prayers, one of which was an earnest appeal that the
+Gikhi might be spared, and that the Indians might once
+more return to the right way. He concluded with the
+Lord’s Prayer, in which all joined. As their voices
+rose as one, all of Tom’s fears were removed. He
+believed that these Indians would remain true, and that
+never again would they be induced to go astray.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 23<br>
+<small>Rejected</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">EARLY the next morning Tom left the encampment
+and headed eastward. He was greatly encouraged
+at the reception he had received from this first
+group of Indians, and he hoped that all the others
+would be of the same mind. He had some doubt, however,
+concerning a large band about fifteen miles away.
+Numerous young people were there, who more than
+the rest had become completely infatuated with the ways
+of Belial. They, like a certain class in modern society
+of white folks, looked with contempt upon the old-fashioned
+ways of their parents. They scoffed at the
+Gikhi and his teaching as out of date, or suitable only
+for women and children. Their chief delight was to
+visit the nearest town, array themselves in the finest
+clothes they could buy, strut up and down the streets,
+displaying their cheap and gaudy jewelry. Had they
+stopped at that it would not have been so bad. But
+they did far worse, both young men and women alike.</p>
+
+<p>Tom knew of all this, yet he hoped that out in the
+mountains, away from such contaminating influences,
+they would more readily listen to his message, and that
+their hearts would be touched by the condition of their
+once beloved Gikhi. He believed that they had not
+wandered so far but that they could be induced to
+return to the right way. Anyway, he considered it his
+duty to speak to them. So much in earnest was this
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>old Indian, and advancing years had increased his intensity,
+that he did not feel at peace while so many of his
+people were wandering from the fold. So long as a
+little strength remained, he was determined to do what
+he could.</p>
+
+<p>Twice during the day he met several Indians along
+the trail. To them he gave his message, telling of the
+willingness of the ones he had met the night before to
+go back to The Gap and renew their allegiance. These
+listened with great interest, and all expressed themselves
+ready to join in the return to the fold. They
+asked many questions about the Gikhi, and Tom told
+them all he knew, and also about Zell and the miserable
+white man who had injured her.</p>
+
+<p>Tom was thus more encouraged than ever. He was
+meeting with unexpected success, and he sped on his
+way with renewed energy. As the afternoon waned,
+and the sun went down, he became very weary. The
+excitement of the day, and the toilsome journey, were
+telling upon him. Every hill he faced seemed harder
+than the last, and his snow-shoes were becoming very
+heavy. But still he struggled forward, knowing that
+the encampment for which he was heading was not far
+away. There he would receive a hearty welcome, and
+obtain the needed rest and food.</p>
+
+<p>At length the sound of voices fell upon his ears, and
+a light winged its way among the trees. Tom stopped
+abruptly, for what he heard filled him with apprehension.
+It was a confused babel of voices, telling plainly
+of serious trouble. Stepping quickly forward, he soon
+came in sight of the encampment, and in the shelter of
+the trees he stood for a few minutes and watched all
+that was taking place. He knew the meaning of the
+disorder only too well. Hootch was the cause, and he
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>saw two white men mingling with the crowd. Some of
+the Indians were quarrelling, others were shouting and
+singing, while several were lying in a helpless condition
+a short distance from the fire. Old and young were
+giving themselves up to this wild carousal which was
+making the night hideous. The white men alone seemed
+to be sober, and were exulting in the debauch for
+which they were responsible.</p>
+
+<p>All this Tom noticed with disgust and burning indignation.
+At first he was tempted to turn away and
+leave the miserable creatures alone. But upon second
+thought he changed his mind. He needed refuge for
+the night, and he might be able to quell the revel, and
+bring the Indians to their senses. Surely the story he
+had to tell about the Gikhi would affect them.</p>
+
+<p>As Tom stepped forward, beat off several snapping
+dogs, and made his way into the midst of the Indians,
+he was greeted with shouts of welcome. No one seemed
+to be surprised at the sight of the old man. Had they
+been sober, their curiosity would have been great. They
+crowded around him, offering him hootch, and when
+he refused to drink, they laughed and called him an
+old fool. Freeing himself, he entered the lodge and
+squatted down upon some blankets spread over fir
+boughs. He wanted to rest and to consider what he
+should do. But even here he was allowed no peace.
+Again and again he was urged to drink, and when each
+time he refused, the Indians became more insistent, and
+some quite angry. The white men, too, were determined
+in their efforts, and it was all that Tom could
+do to keep calm. He contrasted this wild confusion
+with the quiet and peaceful scene of the previous evening.
+What a difference, and how little chance was
+there for him to deliver his great message. He knew
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>that these excited people would not listen, and if they
+did, it would be only to ridicule him and the Gikhi.
+This was no place for him, so he concluded. He would
+leave them, build a fire some distance away, and there
+spend the night. Perhaps in the morning he would get
+a hearing.</p>
+
+<p>Acting upon this impulse, he rose to his feet, and
+started to move away. But the natives had other views.
+They pulled him back with shouts of laughter. The
+embarrassment of the old man was affording them considerable
+sport. They would not let him go until they
+were through with him. But Tom’s fighting blood was
+now aroused. In his younger days he had been a stern
+opponent, and although his body was weak through
+age, his spirit was just as strong as ever. His anger
+flared up at the sight of the two leering and amused
+white men. Why had his people been so deluded? Why
+did they not drive those foreigners from their midst?</p>
+
+<p>With difficulty he struggled to his feet, and impatiently
+thrust away the ones who were crowding around
+him. His eyes were now blazing with indignation. He
+drew himself to his full height, and his stern, commanding
+figure somewhat awed the excited men and
+women. They stepped back, ceased their noise, and
+listened. In fiery language Tom told them of the days
+of old, and of their happy condition at The Gap before
+the coming of the demoralizing hootch. He turned
+his wrath upon the two white men. He told them what
+one of their number had done to the Gikhi and Zell,
+the half-breed girl. He thought that this would bring
+the Indians to their senses, and his eyes noted keenly
+the expressions upon the faces of those around him.
+In fact, he did detect signs of sympathy in several eyes.
+But it was merely a passing emotion, for the liquor had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>too strong a hold upon them. Owing to the silence, he
+believed that he was really exerting some influence upon
+these people. But the entire effect of his oration was
+counteracted by a sneering laugh from one of the white
+men, followed by the words, “What is the old fool
+trying to say?” At this the young men burst into
+uproars of laughter in which most of the women joined.
+Tumult again broke forth, and when Tom tried once
+more to speak, he was jeered at, told to go back home
+and attend to his prayers. Stung to the quick by such
+taunts, Tom leaped forward and faced the nearest white
+man. Thinking that the Indian was going to attack
+him, the villain lifted his clenched fist and struck him
+a savage blow on the face.</p>
+
+<p>“Take that, you d— crazy fool and mind your
+own business,” he cried.</p>
+
+<p>Tom staggered back, stunned by the blow, tripped
+over a stick and fell heavily to the ground. He struck
+the side of his forehead against a stick, and in another
+minute blood was streaming down his right cheek.
+Picking himself up with difficulty, he wiped away the
+blood and gazed around in a dazed manner. Nothing
+but shouts of merriment greeted his woeful appearance,
+and no one came to his assistance. He was in
+the midst of his own people, but they had returned to
+the ways of the wild where sympathy is unknown, and
+where on the slightest pretext they would have rent
+him asunder.</p>
+
+<p>Knowing now that further efforts would be all in
+vain, and wishing to be by himself, Tom moved slowly
+from the encampment. He was the dignified Indian
+once more, walking as erect as possible, paying no
+attention to the laughter and jibes which followed his
+departure. His forehead was sore, but much more so
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>was his heart. His bright hopes had all vanished, and
+he was an outcast. His own people would not listen to
+his message, preferring the ways of evil.</p>
+
+<p>When some distance from the encampment, and
+beyond the sound of the revellers, he stopped, built a
+fire, spread a supply of fir boughs, and passed the night
+alone. No sleep came to his eyes as he squatted there
+thinking of all that had taken place. He knew how
+useless it would be to go back to those Indians in the
+morning. They would be either asleep, or more quarrelsome
+than ever owing to the effects of the liquor.
+They would not listen to him, anyway, so he believed.
+But he must have food, and the nearest place where
+this could be obtained was the police patrol-house miles
+away. He would go there, rest, and then make his way
+to the one more Indian encampment which he knew was
+beyond. Perhaps the Indians there might be willing
+to listen to him. He would try, anyway, even though
+they should reject his message.</p>
+
+<p>Long before daylight he was once more on his way.
+He had eaten the last of his small supply of dried meat
+he had brought with him, and this strengthened him
+for the journey. He hoped to reach the patrol-house
+some time during the day, and there he would find rest
+and food. He thought little, however, about himself.
+It was his own people that worried him, and the condition
+of the Gikhi at The Gap.</p>
+
+<p>Hour after hour he plodded steadily onward, up hill
+and down, through thick forests, across lakes, and long,
+sweeping wild meadows. He had travelled miles by
+the time the dawn of a new day dispelled the darkness
+of night, and the sun rose above the tops of the pointed
+trees. He followed no trail, and he needed none, for
+the region was familiar to him, and he was perfectly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>at home in the trackless wild. He passed places where
+he had often camped in former days, and where he had
+set his traps. The old longing for the chase came upon
+him, and his eyes kindled when he came to a spot where
+he had killed a lordly moose or battled with a fierce
+grizzly. But he was on a greater quest now, so he
+could not afford to delay.</p>
+
+<p>As the morning drew on to midday, Tom’s steps
+began to lag. He was growing weary, and ere long he
+was forced at times to stop to rest. Lack of food and
+the excitement of the previous night were telling upon
+him. He knew that he had only a few miles more to
+go, so by carefully conserving his strength he should be
+able to reach the patrol-house. His indomitable spirit
+stood him in good stead now, so bravely he pressed
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>The last mile proved the hardest of all, and his progress
+was exceptionally slow as he climbed another hill
+and paused on the summit. Down in the valley below
+was the police trail with the patrol-house nestling in
+the midst of a thicket of firs and jack-pines. Toward
+this he slowly moved, and at length the squat log shack
+appeared in sight. To his surprise he saw smoke issuing
+from the pipe stuck through the roof, telling him
+that there was someone ahead of him, and occupying
+the place. Perhaps the Police were there, and he hoped
+such was the case, as they would be of great service to
+him now.</p>
+
+<p>Reaching at length the building, he kicked off his
+snow-shoes, pushed open the door and entered. The
+room was warm, and for a few seconds it seemed very
+dark. As he stood there, peering keenly around, a groan
+arrested his attention. Then a muttering sound came
+from the corner to the right of the stove. Tom stepped
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>quickly forward, and with his eyes now accustomed to
+the dimness of the room, he was enabled to see a form
+huddled in a bunk, covered with a single blanket. Bending
+low, he looked upon the man’s face, and as he did
+so, he gave a start of surprise, and straightened himself
+quickly up. It was Bill, the Slugger!</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 24<br>
+<small>The Wages of Sin</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">FOR a few minutes Tom was at a loss as to what
+he should do. Two forces contended strongly
+within him. One clamored for revenge, the other for
+mercy. Here before him was an unscrupulous enemy,
+the man who had injured the half-breed girl, who had
+shot the Gikhi, and who, he was certain, had committed
+that terrible murder near the C. D. Cut-off. The spirit
+of his savage ancestors swept upon him, and for a while
+seemed to have the complete mastery. His eyes glowed,
+and his body trembled with intense excitement. He
+looked around for some weapon of destruction, and
+seeing a small axe lying on the floor, he sprang toward
+it, clutched it fiercely with both hands, and turned again
+toward the bunk. He had the axe raised, and in another
+instant it would have fallen, when with a great cry,
+he suddenly desisted, and flung the weapon with his full
+strength against the opposite side of the room. He
+then turned, rushed from the building, and stood outside,
+trembling in every limb. His brain was in a
+tumult, but he was slowly regaining his senses. The
+horror of the terrible deed he had almost committed
+possessed his soul. It was not a dread of the Law
+which affected him; in fact, he never thought of that.
+It was a greater Law which said “Thou shalt do no
+murder.” There came to him the teaching of the missionary,
+and the words of the Master which he had
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>so often read in the little manual, “Love your enemies,
+bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate
+you.” That was the Law he had almost broken in
+deed, and that he had broken it in spirit was a great
+grief to the old man. He was only an Indian, wrinkled,
+bent, and gray, an object of scorn to many white
+men had they seen him standing there. But the action
+of that native was worthy of the highest honour. He
+had met temptation in its most terrible form, and had
+almost fallen. But he had resisted, and won a remarkable
+victory. He had crushed back the spirit of revenge
+which was still strong upon him, and had submitted
+himself to the spirit of the Great Master. But still his
+grief was great. In his agony he dropped upon his
+knees in the snow, and lifted his hands above his head
+in an attitude of supplication. No sound did he utter,
+but his moving lips were more eloquent than many
+words. For a few minutes he remained in this position,
+silent and alone. The trees around him were the only
+witnesses to the humble worshipper mutely asking forgiveness
+from the Great Spirit of the universe. And
+to him it seemed that his request was granted, for a
+peace stole into his heart, and a weight was suddenly
+lifted from his mind.</p>
+
+<p>At length he rose to his feet, and looked around.
+His eyes, which a short time ago had glowed with
+vengeance, now shone with the light of joy. His weariness
+was forgotten, and even his hunger as he re-entered
+the building to minister to the needs of the
+man lying upon the bunk. As he approached, Bill
+lifted his head and raised his right hand.</p>
+
+<p>“What are you doing here, you devil?” he demanded.
+“Why don’t you kill me an’ git through with it?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>“Tom no keel Bill,” was the quiet reply. “Tom no
+all sam’ wolf now. Tom Clistin.”</p>
+
+<p>A bitter, sneering laugh came from the man in the
+bunk.</p>
+
+<p>“You say you’re a Christian, eh?” he queried. “Well,
+ye acted jist like one when ye started to brain me. Why
+didn’t ye finish the job?”</p>
+
+<p>“Gikhi an’ good book tell no keel. Tom velly mad,
+heart bad when he see Bill. Something here,” and he
+placed his hand to his breast, “tell Tom to keel white
+man. Tom almos’ do it. Den somet’ing here say ‘no
+keel.’ Tom feel bad. Tom kneel in snow, pray, all
+sam’ Gikhi.”</p>
+
+<p>Instead of admiring the native’s candid confession
+of strength, and the influence of Christian teaching,
+Bill uttered a savage oath, told the Indian that religion
+was all bosh, and that the missionary at The Gap was
+a fraud and a hypocrite.</p>
+
+<p>“The missionary is deceiving you,” he said. “There
+is no heaven an’ no hell. Religion is only fer kids,
+women, an’ old fools like you. It is not meant fer big
+strong men.”</p>
+
+<p>“Gikhi good man,” Tom defended. “Gikhi come
+to Gap when Injuns all bad, fight, keel. Gikhi show
+Injuns right trail. Gikhi tell Injuns ’bout Great Spirit.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, an’ what has all his teaching amounted to?
+Have not the Injuns left him? They no longer listen
+to his teaching, but drink, gamble, an’ strut around
+the streets when they go to town. The women an’
+girls go with white men, live with them, an’ have babies.
+Why, I know of dozens of kids who will never know
+who their fathers are, an’ their mothers don’t know,
+either. Bah! what good has religion done?”</p>
+
+<p>“’Ligion no do dat,” Tom again stoutly maintained,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>while his eyes gleamed with indignation. “Bad white
+man mak’ Injun all sam’ crazee. White man tote
+hootch, mak’ Injun drunk. Gikhi no do dat.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom paused, stepped closer to the bunk, and looked
+keenly into Bill’s face.</p>
+
+<p>“Bill say ’ligion no good, eh?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s what I said,” was the reply. A groan of
+pain suddenly burst from his lips, followed by blood-curdling
+oaths.</p>
+
+<p>“Stop dat,” Tom sternly ordered.</p>
+
+<p>The injured man looked up in surprise, and was
+somewhat awed by the Indian’s manner.</p>
+
+<p>“Why should I stop?” he asked. “I can swear
+an’ curse if I want to. Religion means nothing to me.
+I’m not afraid of hell.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bill no ’fraid of hell, eh? Bill no like pain. Bill
+cry all sam’ babee. Bill cry more bimeby, mebbe.”</p>
+
+<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“Tom leave Bill, mebbe. Tom go ’way. Bill no want
+Tom. Bill die, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>It was not difficult for the white man to understand
+the meaning of these words. He believed that the
+Indian meant what he said, and the thought of being
+left there alone was terrible. He recalled the past night
+of suffering and despair when he had writhed in agony
+of body and mind. The swelling in his foot was most
+menacing, and was steadily creeping upwards until his
+whole leg from foot to hip was badly inflamed. He
+felt that there was nothing that could relieve him, but
+he did not want to be alone. It was some consolation
+to have some one with him, even though it was only an
+Indian.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t leave me,” he cried, reaching out his right
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>hand as if to grasp and hold the native. “Fer God’s
+sake, stay here an’ don’t let me die alone!”</p>
+
+<p>Tom’s eyes brightened as he turned them intently
+upon the pleading man before him. This was more
+than he had expected.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom no leave Bill,” he replied. “Tom Clistin. Wan
+tam Tom no Clistin, leave Bill to die, keel heem, mebbe.
+Now, Tom all sam’ Gikhi, good to Bill.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, shut up about yer religion,” the suffering man
+snapped. “I’m sick of it. Git me something to eat.
+That’ll do me more good than all your yangin’ about
+religion. Ye’ve gone daft over it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah, Tom geeve Bill grub,” was the quiet reply.
+“But Tom ask Bill wan t’ing, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, what is it? Out with it. I’m hungry.”</p>
+
+<p>“Bill no say bad word. Bill no talk ’bout ’ligion.
+Bill keep still.”</p>
+
+<p>This was more than Bill was inclined to do, so he
+gave expression to his feeling in a string of oaths. Tom
+listened for only a few seconds, when he suddenly
+turned, left the side of the bunk, and started for the
+door. Seeing that he was about to leave, the injured
+man realised his mistake, and yelled for him to come
+back. Tom hesitated before complying with this request.
+He then slowly retraced his steps and once
+again stood looking down upon the white man.</p>
+
+<p>“Bill call, eh?” he simply asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I did. Don’t go an’ I’ll hold my tongue, an’
+say nuthin’ more about religion. Hurry up an’ git me
+something to eat.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good, good,” the Indian grunted. “Tom git grub
+now.”</p>
+
+<p>Tom at once turned his attention to the stove. There
+was still some fire in the battered sheet-iron heater, so
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>he added a few dry sticks lying near. He found that
+Bill had done some cooking, and examining several
+cans near the stove he was pleased to learn that they
+contained cooked rice and dried fruit, while part of
+a loaf of sourdough bread was lying on a biscuit box
+close at hand. Tom warmed some of the rice, cut a
+few slices of bread, which he spread with a liberal
+covering of jam from a recently opened tin. These
+he carried to the white man, and placed the plate upon
+the bunk.</p>
+
+<p>“Eat,” he said, “Grub good, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s nuthin’ but trash,” Bill growled as he took a
+little of the food. “Lord! I wish I had a good swig of
+hootch. That would put new life into me. But there’s
+not a drop anywhere in this hole.”</p>
+
+<p>“Too much hootch in Injun camp,” Tom replied.
+“Bad white man mak’ Injun all sam’ crazee. Tom
+hurt, see?” and he placed his hand to his face.</p>
+
+<p>“Who did that?” Bill asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Jeree, white man. Plenty hootch. Jeree mad; hit
+Tom.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where was that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Injun camp, off dere,” and Tom motioned south.</p>
+
+<p>“Was there another white man with Jerry?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah, no savvey name. Beeg, bad face, all sam’
+wolf.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where did they come from?”</p>
+
+<p>“Me no savvey.”</p>
+
+<p>This information excited Bill, and he became very
+impatient. Once he scrambled out of the bunk, but
+so intense was the pain in his leg that he groaned in
+agony.</p>
+
+<p>“I must git away from here,” he cried when Tom
+urged him to lie down again and be still. “This is too
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>dangerous a place fer me. Git me my snow-shoes, an’
+put me up some grub. There’s a hard trail ahead, an’
+I must be off.”</p>
+
+<p>In another minute, however, he was glad to be back
+again in the bunk. He moaned, cursed, and lamented
+his hard luck. His eyes expressed a nameless fear, and
+often he looked anxiously toward the door.</p>
+
+<p>“Did you see the Police?” he at length asked. “Are
+they near?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah; P’lice at Gap.”</p>
+
+<p>“They are!” Bill suddenly raised himself on his
+right shoulder. “Are they coming this way? Do they
+know where I am? Does anybody know?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah, Tom savvey.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know ye do, ye fool. But does anybody else?”</p>
+
+<p>“Me no savvey. P’lice savvey much, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“They do,” was the savage reply. “They are devils.”</p>
+
+<p>The short afternoon was rapidly wearing away as
+the wretched man tossed and writhed in his hard bunk.
+He became consumed with a burning thirst, and called
+continually for water. Tom was kept busy melting
+snow, and then placing the water outside to cool. Cup
+after cup he carried to the restless patient, who would
+seize it, drain it to the bottom, and demand more.</p>
+
+<p>When night shut down, Bill became delirious, and
+it was only with difficulty that the native could keep
+him in the bunk. He talked and shouted almost incessantly,
+and Tom was shocked at many of the things
+he said. If formerly he had any doubt about this man
+being the one who had committed that terrible deed at
+the C. D. Cut-Off, it was now entirely removed. The
+man lived it all over again, as well as other deeds of
+infamy. Time and time again he would start up and
+look wildly around, his eyes dilated with fear.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>“Keep back!” he would cry. “Let me go! Let me
+go! Don’t put me under the ice! Bill Haines an’ his
+wife are there, an’ they’ll kill me, oh, oh!”</p>
+
+<p>He talked, too, about Tim, and how he knew too
+much. He raved about Zell, the half-breed girl, and
+how he wanted her.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll git ye,” he shouted. “Tim won’t have ye. I’ll
+fix him.”</p>
+
+<p>He then gave utterance to expressions which further
+revealed the baseness of his nature, and which Tom
+found hard to endure.</p>
+
+<p>Thus all through the long night the man tossed and
+raved. Tom was very weary, and longed to sleep. But
+he did not dare to close his eyes. When he was not
+forcing Bill back into the bunk, he squatted near the
+stove and smoked his old blackened pipe. Although
+his body was tired, his mind was very active. He
+wondered what he should do with the sick white man.
+That it was his duty to stay by his side he was certain.
+But how was he to get word to that outlying band of
+Indians? It was necessary that they should be told
+of the condition of the Gikhi, that they might have a
+chance to return with the other natives who had avowed
+their loyalty. But he was helpless to do anything.</p>
+
+<p>At times Tom went to the door, opened it and looked
+out. It was a cold night, and the Northern Lights were
+making a wonderful display. The stars, too, were
+exceptionally thick and bright. There was no moon,
+but with such lights in the heavens the night was not
+dark. All was still, save for the occasional snap of a
+frost-rent tree, or the distant howl of a lone wolf.</p>
+
+<p>Thus hour after hour Tom kept his weary watch,
+while the man in the bunk tossed, fretted, and revealed
+his past life of shame.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 25<br>
+<small>“Maintien le Droit”</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">IT was evening, and Sergeant North and Constable
+Rolfe were travelling fast. They had been on the
+way since early morning, and were anxious to reach
+the next band of Indians, where they were planning to
+stay all night. They were not following the regular
+police trail, but visiting the various Indian camps instead,
+hoping in this manner to obtain some word about
+Bill, the Slugger, and perhaps overtake him. They
+believed that he could not travel far, judging from
+what they had heard about the injury he had received.
+So far they had learned nothing, but that did not discourage
+them. They had often followed after men and
+overtaken them with far less to work upon. This
+undertaking appeared easy in comparison with some
+they had experienced in the past.</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant North was anxious to get through with the
+job as soon as possible that he might hurry back to
+Marion. It was hard for him to leave her at The Gap
+with the unconscious missionary. He wanted to remain
+with her. But his duty was out in the hills, so
+nothing must interfere with his loyalty to the Force.
+He had a reasonable excuse for delaying a day or two,
+at the least. Some men who had come through such
+hardships would have rested before venturing forth
+again. As he swung on his way, up hill and down,
+with the constable close at his heels, Marion was almost
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>constantly in his mind. He thought of her standing
+at the door of the mission house bidding them good-by.
+How beautiful she looked then, although her eyes were
+misty, and her voice trembled as she tried to be brave
+and smile a cheery farewell. He had stooped and kissed
+her right before the constable, and he did not know that
+the latter’s heart was strangely stirred. He, too, longed
+for someone to care for him as Marion did for the
+sergeant. He envied North his good fortune, but it
+was envy robbed of all sting and malice. But away
+from The Gap his buoyant spirit once more gained the
+mastery, and he was apparently as light-hearted as ever.
+He joked, sang snatches of songs, and quoted poetry to
+his heart’s content. North, if he heard, paid no attention
+to his companion, so completely wrapped up was
+he in his own affairs.</p>
+
+<p>The first night they encamped with the band of
+Indians who had given Tom such a warm welcome.
+These natives had heard nothing about the presence of
+any white man in the hills. They were enthusiastic
+over the idea of returning to The Gap, and asked the
+police numerous questions about the Gikhi. The visitors
+listened with much interest to the Indian service that
+night, which was conducted by the oldest native present.
+The constable’s face showed his approval, and his eyes
+sparkled with animation. The sergeant, on the other
+hand, expressed no outward sign. But he was doing
+considerable thinking, and his heart was stirred more
+than usual. He made no comment then, but the next
+day while resting and eating a cold lunch, he turned
+suddenly to his companion, who was seated on a fallen
+log by his side.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, Tom,” he began, “I’ve been thinking much
+to-day about that Indian service last night.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>“Is that so? Going to put a stop to it, eh? You
+shouldn’t allow such superstitious practices to be carried
+on. They might do harm to the natives, you know.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I’m going to do nothing of the kind, Tom.
+And besides, I have not the power. And I don’t want
+to stop them. I have been greatly impressed of late by
+what I have seen, and am beginning to look at certain
+things in a different light.”</p>
+
+<p>“Experiencing a change of heart?” the constable
+asked, looking quizzically at the sergeant. “Isn’t it
+coming to you rather late?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not too late, I hope,” was the quiet reply. “I am
+afraid that my judgment of things pertaining to religion
+has been too much biased, and a one-sided affair.
+I have been going upon the idea that religion is all
+right in theory, but of little use in daily life. I see now
+that I was wrong.”</p>
+
+<p>“What has led you to change your mind?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, several things. The first, and perhaps the most
+important, was the thought of that old missionary
+giving up his life on behalf of the Indians, and standing
+bravely at his post of duty when deserted by nearly
+all of his flock. Why, Tom, that man is a great hero,
+and yet the world knows nothing about him. I could
+hardly keep back the tears at something I saw upon
+his rough table. Marion saw it, too, and she was deeply
+affected.”</p>
+
+<p>“What was it, sergeant? It must have been something
+out of the ordinary to move such a hardened
+being as you.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was the last bit of writing, I believe, that he did.
+His Bible was lying open on the table, with a sheet of
+paper right near, on which were some words in the
+Indian language. I did not know what they were, but
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>Zell could read them, and what do you suppose they
+were?”</p>
+
+<p>“I could never guess.”</p>
+
+<p>“They were words of the Great Master Himself,
+and they have fairly burned themselves into my mind
+and soul. I had often heard them before, but thought
+little about them. But to see them there in that strange
+language, written with a trembling hand, and with an
+old rusted pen, stirred something within me which I
+can never forget.”</p>
+
+<p>“What were they?” the constable asked, now deeply
+impressed by the sergeant’s earnest tone.</p>
+
+<p>“Wonderful words about love which the Master
+was imparting to his disciples. ‘This is my commandment
+that ye love one another, as I have loved
+you. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man
+lay down his life for his friends.’ Now, what do you
+think of that? The last words penned by that old
+saint for his wandering flock. And he lived them,
+too; that is what affected me so deeply. His love was
+so great that he actually laid down his life for the
+Indians.”</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant paused and looked off among the trees.
+The constable watched him somewhat curiously, completely
+surprised at the change which had come over
+his leader. He admired him, too, and longed to tell
+him so. But before he could frame suitable words, the
+sergeant continued:</p>
+
+<p>“And think of the influence that missionary exerted
+over the natives. They were wild savages when he first
+came among them, so I have been told. He changed
+their entire manner of living, and until base white men
+began to demoralize them they lived at peace and we
+had not the slightest trouble with them. It was a sad
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>day when those wretched hootch peddlers began their
+diabolical work. I believe the natives want to follow
+the teaching of their missionary, and are anxious to
+return to The Gap. They are naturally religious by
+nature. Did you notice last night how reverent and
+attentive they were during that simple service?”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed I did,” the constable emphatically declared.
+“I was thinking of what Longfellow said in his ‘Hiawatha’
+about Indians. Did you ever hear it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not that I know of. More poetry, I suppose.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, but great poetry, and it expresses fully what
+was in my mind. Longfellow says:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first2">“‘That in even savage bosoms</div>
+<div class="verse">There are longings, yearnings, strivings,</div>
+<div class="verse">For the good they comprehend not,</div>
+<div class="verse">That the feeble hands and helpless,</div>
+<div class="verse">Groping blindly in the darkness,</div>
+<div class="verse">Touch God’s right hand in that darkness,</div>
+<div class="verse">And are lifted up and strengthened.’</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>“Now, isn’t that beautiful? I could quote you a
+great deal more from ‘Hiawatha,’ though I advise you
+to read it yourself when you get a chance. I can’t
+understand why you have not read it already.”</p>
+
+<p>“For want of the proper poetic gift, I suppose, and
+because the whole of my life has been lived in the open.
+But I like those words, especially about feeble hands
+touching God’s hand in the darkness. I guess that
+applies to me as well as to the Indians. But, there, we
+have delayed here too long, so must get on our way.”</p>
+
+<p>This conversation took place at midday, and all
+through the afternoon the two men sped rapidly forward.
+They had little to impede their march, for they
+carried only light packs, and their revolvers. They
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>could turn aside whenever they wished and obtain
+extra food from the patrol-house.</p>
+
+<p>When about a mile from the Indian encampment
+they were surprised at the sight of a man just ahead,
+staggering along, and moaning as if in pain. Coming
+closer they saw that he was a white man, known to
+them as Jerry, a squaw-man, who lived in a small shack
+along the river. He stopped, straightened somewhat
+up and exhibited much fear at the sight of the policemen.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s the matter with you?” the sergeant asked.</p>
+
+<p>“The devils are after me!” was the gasping answer.
+“They’ll kill me! For God’s sake, keep them back till
+I git out of this!”</p>
+
+<p>“Who are after you?”</p>
+
+<p>“The Injuns. They’ve gone crazy. Been wild all
+day. Me pardner is killed, I guess.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who’s that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Bob Span,” the man replied, turning his head and
+looking fearfully back. “They set upon us like wolves,
+an’ I jist managed to git away.”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you doing here, anyway?” the sergeant
+sternly asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Trappin’, of course. Happened to stay last night
+with them Injuns, an’ was jist leavin’ when they set
+upon us. Don’t let ’em git me.”</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant shot a swift glance toward the constable,
+and then laid a strong hand upon the frightened
+man.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve been selling hootch to the Indians,” he
+charged.</p>
+
+<p>“No, no!” the man denied. “I was jist trappin’.
+Let me go.”</p>
+
+<p>“Quit your lying,” the sergeant ordered. “Do you
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>think I’m fool enough to believe what you say? You
+will go with us, and I warn you not to make any
+trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where are ye goin’ to take me?” the man asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Back from where you came, of course.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no; not there! The Injuns will kill me like
+they did me pardner.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, we’ll attend to that. Come, we haven’t any
+time to lose.”</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that the sergeant meant business and that
+further words would be useless, Jerry did as he was
+ordered. He was well worn out through fear and lack
+of sleep, so he tottered as he groped his way along. At
+last the policemen were forced to help him, each taking
+an arm, and thus they moved slowly along. At times
+Jerry wailed and sobbed. He vowed that the Indians
+would kill him as soon as they saw him. Once he
+dropped upon the snow and refused to go a step farther.
+It was only when North threatened to leave him there,
+and let the Indians come and deal with him, that he
+could be induced to go on. He was well aware that
+his only hope now lay with these hardy guardians he
+had so often eluded.</p>
+
+<p>It was dark by the time the Indian encampment was
+reached, and there all was excitement and wild talking.
+Men, women, and children sprang to their feet as the
+policemen approached, dragging along their terrified
+prisoner. The natives advanced threateningly toward
+Jerry, but a stern warning from North caused them to
+hesitate and draw back. They recognised the sergeant
+and the constable as men who would stand no nonsense.
+They knew of them not only by report but through
+personal experience in the towns and on the trails.
+They had always held them in high regard and special
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>awe, knowing that they and all the men of the Force
+would carry out their duties to the letter. Now, however,
+it was different. The natives were mad and half-crazed
+with bad hootch, and they were ready to cast
+discretion to the winds. What could two lone men do
+against an overwhelming number? This was the
+thought that ran through the minds of several daring
+young natives. They had easily disposed of the two
+hootch peddlers, and this made them venturesome and
+impudent. They wished to show the rest of the Indians
+that they were not afraid of the policemen.</p>
+
+<p>Acting upon the impulse of the moment, one of their
+number uttered a few words in the native tongue,
+sprang forward, and laid hold upon the cringing Jerry.
+He was followed by several of his companions, and
+Jerry was being lifted off his feet when the sergeant
+took a hand. Whipping out his revolver, he sternly
+ordered the Indians to drop their burden. As they
+paid no heed, the next instant the revolver spoke, and
+the right arm of the leader dropped to his side. With
+a yell of pain and rage the man staggered back, leaving
+his companions to complete the task. But they had no
+relish now for the undertaking, for the sergeant was
+standing silently there with his finger slightly pressing
+the trigger, and by his side was the constable, with
+drawn revolver, ready to follow his leader’s example.
+Quickly the natives deposited the terrified Jerry upon
+the ground and leaped back among the rest of the
+Indians who were standing defiantly near.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that for a time the rebels were quelled, the
+sergeant thrust back his revolver into its holster, stepped
+forward, and drew back Jerry to his side. His eyes
+then roamed deliberately over the silent band before
+him. He was well aware that he had to use extreme
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>caution now, as the least mistake on his part might
+prove fatal. But his experience with the Indians covered
+a number of years, so he was no novice in dealing with
+them. Had he hesitated at the outset, and shown the
+least sign of fear, the entire band would have been upon
+him and the constable like howling wolves.</p>
+
+<p>“Let us be friends,” he at length began. “We come
+here to help you and not to fight. These men who
+carry hootch harm you. We want to do you good, and
+save you from them. You could easily kill me and my
+companion here. But it would be very bad for you.
+Other men would take our place, and, if necessary, they
+would be followed by others as many as the trees of
+the forest. You could not fight them. But we do not
+want to fight. Let us talk this matter over, and be at
+peace with one another.”</p>
+
+<p>Having finished, the sergeant moved forward, and
+sat down calmly near the fire. The constable followed
+his example, and there the two waited to see what
+would happen next. Although the Indians did not
+understand all the words that were said, they grasped
+their meaning, and at once began to talk to one another
+in the most animated manner. At length they drew
+back, ranged themselves in a circle around the fire,
+some standing, while others squatted upon the snow.</p>
+
+<p>At last the leader arose and asked the sergeant why
+there were two laws in the country, one for the Indians
+and another for the white people. Why were not
+the Indians allowed the same liberty as their white
+brothers? The land belonged to the Indians, as it had
+been handed down to them from their fathers. Why
+could they not drink hootch if they wanted to do so?
+They did not think that the white man’s laws were
+fair. The strangers had come into their country, were
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>killing their game, and driving the natives farther and
+farther back into the hills. Soon there would be no
+place left for them.</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant was well aware of these old complaints,
+so he was not surprised to hear them again.
+He was wise enough not to attempt to answer them
+directly, as it would only involve him in a lengthy argument,
+for which he was not at all inclined. He merely
+told the Indians that what their leader said was only
+too true. But the Police were in the country to protect
+them from bad white men, and to save their young
+men and women. If they obeyed the laws it would be
+for their good, and no harm would come to them. He
+then drew a picture of their happy condition at The
+Gap when the missionary was their teacher, guide, and
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>“Were you not happier then?” he asked. “Were
+you not all like one big family? But what has happened?
+Your teacher has been shot by a bad white
+man, and he may be dead now. He gave up his life
+for the Indians, and his every thought was for you. He
+was always praying that you might come back to him
+again. Let us now forget all strife and think only of
+him who is lying wounded in his house at The Gap.
+Suppose we have a little service here, and pray to the
+Lord to spare the missionary. That will do more good
+than quarrelling.”</p>
+
+<p>This suggestion was carefully considered by the
+natives. Although he did not know what was being
+said, yet the sergeant could tell that several of the
+young men opposed the idea. But the will of the
+majority prevailed, and it was not long ere many of
+the natives were holding in their hands copies of the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>little manual which they had unearthed from most
+unlikely places.</p>
+
+<p>“The white man’s words are good,” the leader said,
+turning toward the sergeant. “The Indians will pray
+for the Gikhi. Mebbe the Lord will not let the Gikhi
+die.”</p>
+
+<p>Then at a word the natives all dropped upon their
+knees while the leader began to pray in the native
+tongue. At times all joined in, and from their earnest
+tones it was quite evident that they meant what they
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Rising at length from their knees, they began to sing
+an old familiar hymn. This ended, they sang another,
+and still another. Their enthusiasm was now intense.
+It had been months since they had held such a service,
+and their hearts were all deeply stirred. When at last
+they paused to rest, some were anxious to start right
+away that very night for The Gap, but others advised
+waiting until morning before beginning the journey.</p>
+
+<p>While they were discussing this, the other hootch
+peddler sneaked into their midst and stood before the
+fire. He was shivering with cold and his face was
+scarred and bleeding. The Indians made no attempt
+to molest the miserable creature, but left him to the
+sergeant.</p>
+
+<p>“Where have you been?” the latter asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Out in the woods, freezin’,” was the gasping reply.
+“I would have died if you hadn’t come along. Say,
+these Indians are devils.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who made them devils?” the sergeant sternly
+asked. “You did,” he continued, receiving no reply.
+“You and your partner brought in your hootch-poison,
+and it’s a wonder they didn’t kill you.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>“They tried to. Oh, Lord! I thought it was all up
+with me.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s too bad it wasn’t for the sake of others. But
+the Indians won’t harm you now, and you have that
+noble missionary at The Gap to thank for it.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, where does he come in on this?” the man
+asked in surprise. “I thought it was yer guns, an’ the
+hell-fear the Police have put into the hearts of the
+Injuns.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, that had something to do with it, I suppose.
+But unless these Indians had been taught the difference
+between right and wrong, what could two of us have
+done with this bunch? No, it was mainly due to the
+teaching they received, and don’t you forget that.
+We’ve been on your trail for some time, and would have
+caught you sooner or later. We’ve got you now, and
+intend to hold on to you.”</p>
+
+<p>With peace thus restored, the sergeant and the constable
+were able to rest. The Indians supplied them
+liberally with food, and gave them a comfortable place
+to sleep. They were tired out after their strenuous
+exertions, but thankful for what had happened. As
+the sergeant lay upon the robes spread over a wealth
+of fir boughs, he thought of Marion and wondered how
+she was making out. He went to sleep with her in his
+mind and heart, and did not hear the constable repeating
+one of his favorite verses:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first2">“‘God bless the man who first invented sleep,</div>
+<div class="verse">So Sancho Panza said and so say I.</div>
+<div class="verse">And bless him, also, that he didn’t keep</div>
+<div class="verse">His great discovery to himself, nor try</div>
+<div class="verse">To make it, as the lucky fellow might—</div>
+<div class="verse">A close monopoly by patent right.’”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 26<br>
+<small>The Night Struggle</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THE Golden Horn was agleam with the rising sun
+as the two policemen left the Indian encampment
+the next morning and headed for the patrol-house.
+They were late in starting, owing to the arrangements
+they had to make in connection with the two hootch
+peddlers. At first it seemed as if the constable would
+have to conduct them to The Gap, leaving the sergeant
+to obtain a native to go with him. The matter was at
+length settled by several Indians agreeing to take the
+prisoners all the way to Kynox. The sergeant told
+them that they would be well rewarded if they delivered
+the two men to the police stationed at that post.</p>
+
+<p>So once more the upholders of the law and the
+guardians of life sped along through the wilderness.
+For a while there was nothing to guide them. Then
+they came upon Tom’s trail, and this they followed.
+They had heard about the old Indian’s visit to the
+encampment, and the harsh reception which had been
+meted out to him. They surmised that he had made
+his way to the patrol-house for shelter and food.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, sergeant,” Rolfe remarked, as they paused to
+rest on the summit of a hill they had just climbed, “I
+wonder if the Wandering Jew had any children.”</p>
+
+<p>“I never heard that he did,” was the reply. “Why
+do you ask?”</p>
+
+<p>“Because I have come to the conclusion that he did,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>and that we are two of his descendants. We are ever
+wandering from place to place, and have been doing
+so for years. It seems to be our fate. I am getting
+more than tired of this life.”</p>
+
+<p>“Longing for a change, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“It wouldn’t come amiss, let me tell you that.”</p>
+
+<p>“But we’re getting plenty of change, Tom. Ever
+since we left Kynox haven’t we had no end of excitement,
+ending up with that racket last night?”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you call that the end? It looks to me like only
+the beginning. But, then, let us keep up courage; the
+worst is yet to come. Say, sergeant, I’ve been thinking.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad to hear it, Tom. Rather unusual, isn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps so, but I really have. I’ve been thinking
+about all the people who sing the national anthem in
+cities and towns.”</p>
+
+<p>“Does your brain hurt from such deep thinking?”</p>
+
+<p>“I wonder if they realize what our motto, ‘Maintien
+le Droit,’ really means? Look at us, for instance,
+upholding the right, and enforcing the King’s laws,
+while all they do is sing, cheer, and wave the flag.
+When I get out of the Force, I’m going to write something
+that will open their eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>“Poetry, I suppose. Will people read it?”</p>
+
+<p>“They will have to. I shall write such blazing stuff
+that everyone will want to read it. It will not be the
+trash that is so often seen in print.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wish you good luck, old man,” North replied, as
+he lifted his small pack and slung it once again over
+his shoulders. “But I wouldn’t be too hopeful. People,
+as a rule, don’t take kindly to poetry.”</p>
+
+<p>“But they will take to mine. I shall write such stuff
+that they won’t be able to help themselves. Now, some
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>poets have written about this country who have never
+been on its trails. I shall write from experience, and
+surely people will see the difference.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let us hope so, Tom,” the sergeant replied. “But
+come, let us get on our way. We have lost too much
+time already. If you can find any poetry in all this,
+you are heartily welcome to it.”</p>
+
+<p>Hour after hour they moved onward, and the sun
+had disappeared behind the far-off mountain peaks as
+they came at last to the patrol-house. Smoke was pouring
+forth from the pipe stuck up through the roof.
+This did not surprise them, for they surmised that
+Tom, the Indian, was making himself at home within.
+Kicking off their snow-shoes, the sergeant thrust open
+the door and led the way into the building. He stopped
+suddenly, however, at a strange and uncanny sound
+which came from the opposite corner of the room. He
+could not see clearly, owing to the dimness of the place,
+but words he heard quickened the blood in his veins,
+and caused him to grip hard the constable’s arm.</p>
+
+<p>“Keep back! Keep back!” wailed the terrified voice.
+“What are ye doin’ here, Bill Haines? How did ye
+git out of the river? I put you an’ yer wife under the
+ice, an’ how did ye git out? Oh! oh! oh! keep yer
+wet hands off my throat. Yer chokin’ me! Fer God’s
+sake, let me go!”</p>
+
+<p>As the wretched, haunted creature paused an instant
+for breath, the sergeant stepped quickly forward. Indian
+Tom was standing by the bunk, and he turned
+around as the sergeant approached. He expressed no
+surprise at the arrival of the policeman, although it
+was evident he was greatly relieved.</p>
+
+<p>“Bill velly seek,” he simply said. “Bill talk all sam’
+crazee. Bill tell much.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>“He certainly does,” the sergeant replied, as he again
+listened to the wild words of the man before him,
+pleading again with Bill Haines to keep back and not
+to choke him. He was certain now that the murderer
+he was seeking had been found, and that the search
+was ended.</p>
+
+<p>“How long has Bill been talking like this?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Long tam, all day, mebbe. Bill velly seek. Bill die
+bimeby, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“Most likely,” was the reply. “Anyway, he’s worse
+than dead now. Isn’t it terrible to listen to him?” and
+he turned to the constable.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, sergeant, he’s getting his hell now,” Rolfe
+replied. “It’s the mind that makes the torment. It
+was Satan in ‘Paradise Lost’ which said, ‘The mind
+is its own place, and in itself can make a hell of
+heaven.’ And who can doubt it after listening to the
+ravings of such a creature as that? Why, he’s living
+over again all the devilish things he has ever done.
+There he goes again about the murder of Bill Haines
+and his wife. Did you hear him speak about a ring?
+Look, he’s groping for something. What do you suppose
+it can be?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps he’s stolen one,” the sergeant suggested.
+“But, stay; do you suppose a ring was the cause of
+that murder? If so, he may have it somewhere about
+him. Give me a light, and let me examine him.”</p>
+
+<p>In another minute a candle was lighted which enabled
+them to see much better. The pockets of the raving
+man were searched, and from one the sergeant at length
+brought forth the ring, and held it up for inspection.
+The diamond gleamed beneath the rays of light and
+fascinated the eyes of the beholders.</p>
+
+<p>“Isn’t it a beauty!” the constable exclaimed. “What
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>in the world was Bill doing with a thing like that? It
+may be, as you suggest, the cause of the murder. Did,
+you ever hear of the Haines having such a valuable
+thing?”</p>
+
+<p>“I never did. They always seemed too poor to possess
+anything like that. But, then, one can never tell.
+Bill Haines and his wife were very reserved people, and
+although friendly and hospitable to all, they kept their
+own affairs to themselves. Mrs. Haines was a refined
+woman, and it often struck me as strange that she
+should be willing to live year after year in such a lonely
+place along the river. However, we shall keep this
+ring; it may be the means of unravelling some mystery.
+The question now for us is what to do with this crazy
+creature. But first of all, get something to eat, as I
+am almost starved.”</p>
+
+<p>While the constable was preparing supper, North sat
+by the side of the bunk, watching the unhappy man
+lying there, and listening to his incessant ravings. It
+was a sordid tale, unconsciously unfolded, and the sergeant
+was enabled to piece together much of his unenviable
+record. Tom, the Indian, squatted on the floor
+nearby, silent and alert. At times the sergeant glanced
+toward him and wondered what was passing through
+his mind. When the humble meal had been eaten, the
+Indian filled, lighted his old blackened pipe, and smoked
+for a while in silence. At last he rose to his feet and
+stood before the sergeant.</p>
+
+<p>“Me go now,” he simply announced. “P’lice stay,
+eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“Go where?” North asked in surprise. “Surely you
+are not going away to-night!”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah. Tom go find Injun. Fetch Injun back
+to Gap. Savvey?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>“What for?”</p>
+
+<p>“Gikhi velly seek; die mebbe. Tom fetch Injun.”</p>
+
+<p>“But why not wait until morning? Sleep first.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tom sleep bimeby. Ketch Injun first.”</p>
+
+<p>“How far away are the Indians?” the sergeant
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“At Big Lake.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s about ten miles, isn’t it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah, ten mile, mebbe.”</p>
+
+<p>For a few minutes the sergeant remained in thought.
+He then turned to the constable, who was cleaning up
+after supper.</p>
+
+<p>“Say, Tom,” he began, “we’ve got to get this crazy
+man back to The Gap, and from there to Kynox. We
+can’t do it without a team of dogs. Those Indians at
+Big Lake must supply us with an outfit. One of us
+should go with this Indian and pick up a good team.
+Would you rather go or stay here with Bill?”</p>
+
+<p>“Go with the Indian, of course,” was the emphatic
+reply. “I’d soon be crazy, too, if I had to stay here
+alone with that raving villain.”</p>
+
+<p>“But you might obtain great material for poetry,”
+the sergeant bantered. “What brilliant ideas might
+come to you sitting here and listening to Bill.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’d rather be excused this time, sergeant. Dante
+wrote wonderful things about his imaginary visit to
+Hell, but I don’t think that I could. This is too real
+to inspire the poetic muse. No, I prefer the trail every
+time.”</p>
+
+<p>“Even though you have to start right off now?”</p>
+
+<p>“I would rather wait until morning, there is no doubt
+about that. But if Old Tom is determined to go now,
+I suppose it can’t be helped. And besides, perhaps he
+is right. There is no time to lose. We must get that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>creature out of this as soon as possible. And you want
+to get back to The Gap as soon as you can, don’t you?”</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant made no reply. He was more than
+anxious to be with Marion once more. He had worried
+a great deal about her, and wondered how she was
+making out with the missionary. She was very much
+in his mind as he sat near the bunk after the Indian
+and the constable had left. He had plenty of time to
+think, as there was nothing else he could do. Marion
+always brought before him a vision of purity and nobleness.
+He pictured a time when his wanderings on
+the cruel trails would be ended, and he would have
+a snug little home of his own, with Marion as the
+beautiful presiding genius. What happiness that would
+be. No more wanderings to and fro, with no certain
+abiding place.</p>
+
+<p>It was but natural that he should also think of the
+self-sacrificing life of Charles Norris, the missionary at
+The Gap, and the sad fate which had fallen upon him.
+He mused upon his noble life, and the peaceful expression
+upon his face as he had last seen him lying so still
+in the mission house. He compared him with the
+wretched being before him, and the contrast was most
+startling. One had lived for loving service; the other
+for self. The aim of one had been to build up, and
+improve; that of the other to tear down, and to destroy.
+In the end both had been terribly stricken down. That
+the good should suffer as well as the bad the sergeant
+knew was one of the great problems of life. And yet
+not for an instant could he imagine the missionary at
+The Gap undergoing such tortures of the condemned
+as he beheld in Bill, the Slugger. In the latter he saw
+the brute nature, revealed and uncontrolled, pouring
+forth the vile pollutions of the mind. He realised now,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>as he had never done before, the gracious and refining
+influence of the life and teaching of the Great Master.
+He had scoffed at such things in the past, but face to
+face with such stern realities, he knew that he could
+never do so again.</p>
+
+<p>Thus hour after hour he kept watch, tended the fire,
+and listened to the sounds of the man in the bunk,
+which were now nothing more than senseless jabberings.
+Occasionally he went to the door and looked out.
+The night was cold, and he thought of the constable
+and the Indian speeding through the forest. He was
+thankful to have a warm abode, even though his sole
+companion was a demented man.</p>
+
+<p>Once more he took up his position near the bunk,
+filled and lighted his pipe, and leaned back against the
+wall. When he had finished his smoke, he laid aside
+his pipe and looked at Bill. He was quiet now, and
+to all appearance asleep. North was glad of this, for
+he was becoming very drowsy. The room was warm
+and as he once more resumed his seat, he leaned his
+head against one of the bunk posts which was fastened
+to the wall. He was tired, and although he intended
+to keep awake, yet in a few minutes he was asleep.</p>
+
+<p>He awoke with a start, overwhelmed with a feeling
+of dread. And none too soon, for before him was the
+lunatic creeping toward him with a stick of firewood
+raised ready to strike.</p>
+
+<p>North sprang to his feet as the madman leaped forward
+and with a wild cry struck. Warding the blow
+with his right hand, the sergeant grappled with the
+raging demon. Then ensued a struggle such as North
+had never before experienced. The lunatic seemed to
+be possessed of superhuman strength, and several times
+he was on the point of gaining the mastery. To and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>fro the contestants swayed and reeled. The madman’s
+arms were like coils of steel as he wound them about
+his adversary’s body. His eyes glowed like red-hot
+coals. His teeth ground together in his insensate rage,
+and blood-curdling yells poured from his frothing lips.
+North had at times heard of the terrible strength of
+crazy men and their marvellous endurance. But he
+knew it now only too well. Possessed of great strength
+himself, and with finely developed muscles, he was
+weak compared with his raging brute antagonist. He
+felt his strength weakening in the terrible grip, and
+a sickening feeling of helplessness swept upon him.
+The thought of being overpowered by such a demon
+was maddening. He could not subdue him by mere
+physical force, that was quite evident, so in extremity
+desperate means must be used. At the first opportunity
+he drew back his right arm and struck his opponent a
+smashing blow on the left jaw. The effect was instantaneous.
+The encircling arms relaxed, the gripping
+fingers loosened their strangling hold, the tense body
+sagged, and then dropped in a heap upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p>North staggered back weak and faint after the fray,
+and leaned for a few seconds against the wall. He
+was well aware, however, that the madman might
+speedily recover and rush again to the attack. Such a
+thing must be prevented. He looked around for a rope
+or strap, but seeing nothing, he seized one of the grey
+blankets upon the bunk and quickly tore off a long
+narrow strip. Turning over the prostrate man, he
+securely fastened his hands behind his back. With
+another strip he also tied his feet together. This done,
+he threw over him a couple of blankets, and left him
+upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p>“Lie there, you brute,” he said. “It’s too good a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>place for you. I’m not going to bother with you any
+more. You don’t deserve the least consideration. You
+brought all this trouble upon yourself. I wish that
+some of your choice companions could see you now.
+It might be a lesson to them.”</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the long night wore away. North was very
+tired, but he did not dare to sleep. He kept the fire
+going and waited impatiently for the coming of dawn.
+The madman at length recovered, struggled to free
+himself, and yelled and raved. North left him alone,
+knowing that he could do nothing for him. His one
+desire now was to get him back to The Gap as soon as
+possible, and from there to Kynox. His responsibility
+then would be ended.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 27<br>
+<small>An Unfolded Record</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">MARION BRISBANE was kept very busy for
+some time after the sergeant and the constable
+had left. The mission house was in sad need of attention.
+With the aid of the Indian woman she set to
+work upon the main room, swept, dusted, and scrubbed
+the floor. This took all day, and at night she was very
+tired. But the place looked the better for the cleaning,
+and she viewed it with considerable satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>“That is the first thorough cleaning it has had for
+some time, it seems to me,” she declared.</p>
+
+<p>“It used to be clean,” Zell replied. “When Mrs.
+Norris was living she was very particular. I often
+helped her, and so did the other girls. We always liked
+to do it for her, as she was so good and kind.”</p>
+
+<p>“She must have been a noble woman, Zell. I suppose
+you miss her.”</p>
+
+<p>The girl rose from her seat and moved slowly across
+the room. She was still weak, and walked with difficulty.
+She stopped before a little table, above which
+were several shelves, filled with books, papers, letters,
+and writing material.</p>
+
+<p>“This is where she so often sat and wrote,” she said.
+“I can see her now sitting here while we were at our
+lessons. She would read and write, and every morning
+she would kneel here while the Gikhi had prayers. I
+am afraid that we didn’t pay much attention to what
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>was being said. We were all too silly, thinking about
+other things. I guess you understand, Miss, what girls
+of our age generally think about.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did the missionary and his wife know anything
+about your thoughts?” Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, no. They never dreamed of such things. They
+lived too near heaven for that. Perhaps that was where
+they made a mistake in thinking that the girls were
+like themselves. Anyway, they were right, and we
+were wrong. I see it now, when it is too late.”</p>
+
+<p>Zell’s eyes were misty as she stood there, resting
+her left hand upon the table for support. Marion, too,
+was affected, as in her mind she saw a faithful woman,
+who had given up all the luxuries of life for a great
+cause, seated there or kneeling in prayer. What earnest
+petitions had been offered up before that rude table,
+and how many letters had been written to loved ones
+far away. The thought of that noble woman was an
+inspiration to her, and helped her to be brave. Stepping
+forward, she glanced at the books upon the
+shelves. She examined several, and was surprised to
+find them all stained as if with water.</p>
+
+<p>“What happened to these?” she asked. “They look
+as if they had been soaked.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, the big flood did that,” Zell explained. “It was
+one spring several years ago, when the Kluksan was
+jammed up in the mountains with ice. It broke and
+swept down upon The Gap in a rushing torrent. The
+Gikhi was sitting at his table writing, when an Indian
+rushed in and gave the warning. We had only time
+to get out of the house and flee to the high bank when
+the water was in this house, and almost everything was
+ruined. The Indians’ cabins were all swept away,
+while only the mission house and church were left
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>standing. You see, Miss, God wouldn’t let the flood
+hurt them. That’s what the Indians said, and I guess
+they were right. But they have forgotten about it,
+though,” she added with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>“Does a flood like that happen often?” Marion
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“It was the first one in a long time. The old Indians
+said there was another many years ago, when they were
+little.”</p>
+
+<p>“They must have had a hard time building their
+houses again.”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed they did. The women and children slept in
+the church, and the men made lean-tos. They built new
+cabins on higher ground, as you can see for yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion did not really hear these last words, as she
+was holding in her hands another book she had taken
+from one of the shelves. It was different from the
+others, and much of it was written with a lead pencil.
+She began to read, and became so interested that for
+a time she forgot everything else. It was an account
+of the founding of the mission at The Gap, the coming
+of the missionaries to the place, their struggles and the
+opposition of the Medicine Men. Although there was
+no name, she was certain that it had been written by
+Mrs. Norris. What a treasure it was, and what a pity
+that it had remained hidden for such a length of time.
+She longed to read more, but she was aroused by Zell’s
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>“The Gikhi! The Gikhi!” she exclaimed, pointing
+to the bedroom. “He is calling!”</p>
+
+<p>Laying aside the book, Marion hastened across the
+room, pushed open the door, which had been kept partly
+closed owing to the housecleaning, and looked in. To
+her astonishment she saw the missionary sitting up
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>in bed and staring straight before him. Going swiftly
+to his side, she spoke to him, and the sound of her voice
+attracted his attention. He turned his eyes toward her,
+and reached out his right hand. This Marion grasped,
+and the expression which overspread the old man’s
+face told of his satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>“Where have you been, dear?” he asked. “I thought
+you were never coming.”</p>
+
+<p>“Just outside,” Marion replied, somewhat startled
+at the word of endearment. “But come, lie down
+again. You must not tire yourself.”</p>
+
+<p>“Have the Indians come back yet?” the man asked,
+unheeding her words. “It will be Christmas soon, and
+we must give them a good time.”</p>
+
+<p>“He thinks you are his wife,” Zell whispered, as
+she stood by the nurse’s side. “He doesn’t know us.
+What a strange look he has in his eyes.”</p>
+
+<p>As gently as possible Marion forced the missionary
+to lie back upon the pillow. But he was excited, and
+held her hand fast.</p>
+
+<p>“That word doesn’t look right, Martha,” he said.
+“It seems strange.”</p>
+
+<p>“What word?” Marion asked, hoping to detect some
+gleam of intelligence in his wandering mind.</p>
+
+<p>“No, no,” he continued, “that’s not the word I want.
+Where is it? Ah, I have it!” His eyes brightened,
+and a smile illumined his face. “Love—that’s it!
+‘Greater love hath—’” He paused abruptly, drew his
+hand quickly from Marion’s, and pointed excitedly with
+his forefinger straight before him. “They’re coming!”
+he cried. “I see them; they’re on the trail; they’ll be
+here soon! Thank God, my flock is coming back, and
+Zell is with them! Don’t you see her, Martha? Little
+Zell, who left us; she is coming home again!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>With a cry of grief, the half-breed girl turned and
+fled from the room. A few minutes later Marion found
+her curled up in a corner weeping as if her heart would
+break. The nurse laid a gentle hand upon the girl’s
+shoulder, but she threw it off and shrank back from the
+touch.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I am bad, bad!” she moaned. “Did you hear
+what he said? He was longing for me all the time,
+and I never knew it.”</p>
+
+<p>“There, there, dear; you can’t help it now,” Marion
+soothed. “You made a mistake, but he will forgive
+you when he gets well.”</p>
+
+<p>“But will he get well, Miss? Maybe he will die,
+and he will never know how sorry I am.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let us hope that he will get better,” Marion encouraged.
+“When the doctor comes he may be able to
+do something for him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I hope he will come soon, Miss. He will tell
+me how Tim is getting along. But suppose he is dead!
+If he is, then I shall die too. I don’t want to live with
+Tim gone.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t worry too much about that, dear,” and
+Marion put her arm around the girl as she spoke. “The
+doctor will do all he can, never fear, and our Heavenly
+Father will do the rest. Have you prayed for your
+lover, Zell?”</p>
+
+<p>“I have tried to, Miss, but I guess my prayers will
+do no good. I have been so bad that the Lord wouldn’t
+listen to me.”</p>
+
+<p>“He certainly will, Zell. He has promised to hear
+us when we come to Him. Did He not say, ‘Call upon
+Me in the time of trouble and I will hear thee’? Isn’t
+that His promise? Why, then, should you doubt His
+word?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>“Why, Miss, you talk just like Mrs. Norris used to.
+She often told us the same thing. But she was a good
+woman, and her prayers were not all answered. Why
+was that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Are you sure they were not, Zell?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am certain, Miss. She prayed for the Indians that
+they might all be good. But look how they have wandered,
+and have nearly all left the mission.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps her prayers will be answered, Zell,”
+Marion quietly replied. “She prayed that you might
+come back, and be a good girl. And here you are,
+changed, and sorry for what you have done.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did she pray for me?” the girl asked in surprise.
+“How do you know that? You never met Mrs. Norris,
+did you?”</p>
+
+<p>Marion made no immediate reply. She picked up a
+cup and spoon from the table, and going to the stove
+dipped out some soup from a steaming pot. Then going
+into the bedroom, she offered a little to the missionary,
+who was now lying very still.</p>
+
+<p>“Take this,” she said; “it will do you good.”</p>
+
+<p>As the man paid no heed to her words, she filled
+the spoon with soup and held it to his lips. Like a
+child he opened his mouth and drank it, the first nourishment
+he had taken since the shooting. In this
+manner Marion was able to feed him, and she gave
+him all the cup contained. This, she felt, was an
+encouraging sign, and she returned to the other room
+with greater hope for the invalid. She found Zell just
+where she had left her, with hands clasped before her,
+and quietly sobbing.</p>
+
+<p>“Come, dear,” Marion brightly began. “I want to
+read something to you. The good missionary took a
+little nourishment, and seems to be resting comfortably.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>We can spend a cozy evening together in this nice warm
+room.”</p>
+
+<p>Going over to the table, she picked up the book she
+had so hurriedly laid down, and opened it. She then
+sat down upon a rough bench, and motioned Zell to
+her side. The girl obeyed, and in another minute the
+two were seated side by side with the light of a nearby
+candle resting upon their fair faces.</p>
+
+<p>“I am going to read you something from this book,”
+Marion said. “It was written years ago by Mrs.
+Norris. She wrote something every day, and I feel
+that it will be perfectly right for us to read some of
+the beautiful things she recorded here. Would you
+like to hear them?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, indeed I should, Miss,” was the eager reply.
+“I have often wondered what she wrote in that book.
+She seemed so fond of it.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion passed over the part of the journal which
+told of the trials of the missionaries when they first
+reached The Gap, until she came to an entry which she
+knew would interest the girl. It was the day before
+Christmas, and this the writer noted.</p>
+
+<p>“‘My dear husband has just come home after an
+absence of nearly two weeks. He has been visiting
+the Indians, and many of them have come back with
+him for the treat, and the wonderful Christmas services
+we are planning to have. And what a present he
+brought with him—a little girl, a half-breed! She is
+a dear little thing, and has such sweet ways. She is
+only seven years old, yet she is exceptionally bright and
+smart for her age. She is a real Christmas gift, the
+best I ever had. How I have always longed for a
+child to care for, and perhaps she may be the first-fruit
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>of the mission school we hope to start for the native
+children. She has such a pretty name—Zell——’”</p>
+
+<p>Here Marion was interrupted by a cry from the girl
+at her side.</p>
+
+<p>“Was it really me, Miss?” she asked. “Surely Mrs.
+Norris didn’t write all that about me!”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, she did, dear, and there is more. Listen: ‘The
+Indians have been coming in and out of the house all
+the evening, and we have been so busy. But my mind
+is so full of the little child that I can hardly think of
+anything else. She is asleep now in a cozy place I have
+made for her. My heart is overflowing with gratitude.
+As I sit here, with the house at last quiet, and Charles
+reading his letters, which came while he was away, I
+could sing for joy. But not being able to do that for
+fear of waking the child, I think of that wonderful
+psalm, and can understand the feeling of him who
+wrote it: “Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that
+is within me, praise His Holy Name.” God grant that
+this little one brought so unexpectedly to my arms may
+grow in grace, and in the knowledge and fear of the
+Lord.’”</p>
+
+<p>Thus page after page Marion read, the girl listening
+with almost breathless interest. The story of the forming
+of the Indian school was told in detail, the number
+of children in attendance, their names, and the efforts
+made to instruct them. Then there was the story of
+the falling away of the natives, and the great changes
+that took place at The Gap. Marion read only a portion
+of this, and when she saw what was written about
+Zell’s departure, she closed the book and laid it on the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>“There, I think I’ve read enough this evening,” she
+said. “You must be sleepy, and want to go to bed.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>“No, no; read more,” Zell insisted. “Read about
+where I ran away from the school.”</p>
+
+<p>“How do you know there is anything about that?”</p>
+
+<p>“I am sure there must be. I want to know what
+Mrs. Norris thought about what I did.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps it will make you very sad.”</p>
+
+<p>“I do not care, Miss. I want to hear.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion did as she was requested, and again opening
+the book, she turned to the last few pages. Here the
+dates were far apart, showing that for some time nothing
+had been recorded. Soiled with tears was the page
+where the writing once more abruptly began.</p>
+
+<p>“‘I have had no heart to write anything for several
+weeks’”—so ran the scribbled words, which made the
+reading difficult. “‘The worst has at last arrived, and
+Zell, our darling child, is gone! She left us for a white
+man. Charles can hardly believe it is true, and goes
+from cabin to cabin searching for her. But I know,
+and so do the girls in the school. I can hardly write,
+so full are my eyes with tears. Our house is very
+lonely now without our darling. May the good Lord
+keep her safe, and lead her back to us again. I have
+the feeling that if she does come I shall not be here.
+I sometimes wonder—’”</p>
+
+<p>“That is all,” Marion quietly remarked, as she once
+more laid aside the book. Her eyes were misty, while
+Zell’s were brimming with tears.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, why didn’t she write more?” the girl impetuously
+asked. “Why did she stop just there? What
+was she wondering about? How I should like to
+know.”</p>
+
+<p>“We never shall, dear,” Marion replied. “She finished
+her journal just there.”</p>
+
+<p>“She couldn’t write any more, Miss; that was the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>reason. Her heart was broken because I ran away.
+I never imagined she would feel like that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do not worry too much about it now, dear,”
+Marion advised. “You are very weak yet. When you
+are stronger we shall talk it all over. You must go to
+bed now and get a good sleep. I shall sit up for a
+while, and watch until Kate comes. She said she would
+stay with us to-night.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you think the doctor will be here to-morrow?”
+Zell asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps so. If he is at Big Chance, it should not
+take him long to make the journey.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I hope he will come soon, and bring good news
+about Tim. Surely the good Lord won’t let Tim die
+when I want him so much. You understand, don’t
+you, Miss?”</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed I do,” Marion replied, giving the girl an
+affectionate kiss. “Lovers understand many things
+which are hidden from others. But, there, you must
+go right to bed. I shall come presently and tuck
+you in.”</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 28<br>
+<small>Waiting</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THAT night Marion had a fairly good sleep, which
+she sorely needed. It was the first real rest she
+had enjoyed since leaving Hugo’s cabin on the overland
+trail. She awoke greatly refreshed, and found
+the Indian woman preparing breakfast. Zell was also
+awake, and brighter than she had been for days.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, Miss!” she exclaimed as Marion entered her
+room, “I’ve had such a wonderful dream. Tim was
+standing right by my side, looking so well and strong.
+I am sure it is a sign that he is all right.”</p>
+
+<p>“Let us hope that your dream will come true,”
+Marion replied with a smile. “I, too, had such a nice
+dream, and almost like yours.”</p>
+
+<p>“Was it about the sergeant, Miss?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, and he was with us here and we were all so
+happy. But you had better get up now, dear, for Kate
+has breakfast almost ready.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion then went to see how the missionary was
+getting along. She found him asleep, although the
+Indian woman told her that he had talked a great deal
+during the night, and kept saying things which she
+could not at times understand.</p>
+
+<p>“Gikhi talk much,” she said. “Gikhi sing some tam’,
+all sam’ in church. Gikhi pray for Injun, all sam’ dis,”
+and she clasped her hands together and cast her eyes
+upwards. “Gikhi good man, eh?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>“He certainly is, Kate. He was always good to the
+Indians, was he not?”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah, good. De Lord no let Gikhi die, eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“Let us hope not, Kate. He seems better, doesn’t
+he?”</p>
+
+<p>“Mebbe so. Doctor come bimeby. Doctor savvey.”</p>
+
+<p>That day was a long one for Marion. She attended
+to the missionary, and busied herself about the house.
+Zell was more like her former self, and talked a great
+deal about the coming of the doctor. She sat much of
+the time near the little window looking down The Gap
+in the direction of Big Chance.</p>
+
+<p>“They will come that way,” she said, “and I want
+to be the first to see them. I know they will come
+to-day, and will bring good news about Tim. The
+Golden Horn is smiling, and that is another sign that
+all is well. Do you believe in signs, Miss?”</p>
+
+<p>“No, I cannot truthfully say that I do. Years ago
+I did, but I have got all over that.”</p>
+
+<p>“But I believe in them, Miss,” Zell declared. “The
+Indians have all kinds of signs, and they tell many
+things by them. They believe in dreams, too. Doesn’t
+the Bible tell about dreams which came true? I often
+think about the dream which saved the life of little
+Jesus. If that dream was true, why shouldn’t it be so
+to-day?”</p>
+
+<p>This was more than Marion was able to explain. She
+merely told the girl that she hoped her dream would
+come true, and that she would soon have her lover with
+her. Thus all through the day they waited and watched
+for the absent ones. Several times the missionary
+aroused, asked for his wife, and talked about the
+Indians, and the mission work. He took a little nourishment,
+but showed no sign that he knew what was
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>taking place around him. It was only at the close of
+the day that he become very restless, tried to get up,
+and talked incessantly. He was seeing wonderful
+things, so it seemed to the nurse, as she sat and watched
+him. His eyes glowed, and a beautiful smile would
+often overspread his face.</p>
+
+<p>All day long Zell sat by the window and watched
+down The Gap. As the afternoon wore away, and
+night drew near, she became very anxious, and asked
+over and over again why the travellers did not come.
+Then when it became dark she crept into the room
+where the missionary was lying, and crouched upon the
+floor with her eyes fixed intently upon the face of the
+unconscious man. Marion tried to comfort her, but
+her words seemed to have no effect.</p>
+
+<p>“They will never come!” she moaned. “Something
+has happened to Tim, and they don’t want to tell me.
+Or maybe they have been lost on that terrible overland
+trail. A snow-slide may have swept them away.”</p>
+
+<p>“You must not get discouraged, dear,” Marion replied.
+“It is a long way to Big Chance and back. Perhaps
+the doctor was not there, and—and Hugo had to
+go to Kynox. The doctor will come as fast as he can,
+let us never doubt that. Let us get supper now, and
+be ready if they should come this evening.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t want anything to eat, Miss,” Zell declared,
+“and if Tim dies, I never want to eat again. Do hearts
+sometimes break for grief, Miss? I am sure mine is
+almost breaking now. I don’t believe a girl ever loved
+anyone as I love Tim.”</p>
+
+<p>The girl had risen from the floor and was standing
+erect now. Her face was flushed, and her dark eyes
+were filled with tears. Marion had never seen her look
+so beautiful, and she recorded a silent prayer that the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>poor girl might have her lover restored to her again.
+There was nothing conventional about this girl. She
+was one with the things of nature, and the untamed
+spirit of roving natives animated her soul. What she
+did, she did with tremendous intensity, and her love
+was as a burning fire that cannot be quenched. Her
+every movement was full of grace, and there was a
+remarkable refinement about her entire manner. Never
+once did Marion hear her utter a wrong word, nor
+express an improper wish. Her heart seemed pure, and
+her love a most sacred thing. This was shown as the
+two sat that night near the stove.</p>
+
+<p>“Is it wrong, Miss, to love as I love?” she suddenly
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Why no, dear. I am certain it is right. Why do
+you ask such a question as that?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, I hardly know,” and the girl sighed as she
+spoke, and placed her right hand wearily to her forehead.
+“But sometimes I think that my love is so wonderful
+a thing that it isn’t meant for such a bad girl
+as I am. Perhaps God thinks that it isn’t right for me
+to love Tim as I do.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is all nonsense, Zell,” Marion chided. “God
+knows your heart, and what a good girl you really are.
+You must not think that you are bad, for you are not.
+I know you ran away from school, but that doesn’t
+mean that you are bad. Let us call it a mistake.”</p>
+
+<p>“And you don’t think God will punish me by taking
+Tim away when I want him so much?”</p>
+
+<p>“No dear, God will not do that to punish you, I feel
+certain. If Tim should die, which we hope and pray
+he will not, it will not be God’s doings, but because a
+bad man shot him. We must not blame God for what
+others do. He wants us to live and be happy.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>“Oh, I am so glad to hear you say that,” the girl
+replied, her eyes shining with gratitude. “And it is
+so nice to feel that God will not punish me for what
+I did. I was afraid he would.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion thought of the girl’s words as she sat alone
+that night. Zell was asleep in the little room, and the
+Indian woman was lying upon the cot near the stove.
+The house was very quiet, the crackling of the sticks
+in the stove being the only sound which broke the
+silence. Marion had been reading again the Journal,
+but she now let the book lie open in her lap, her mind
+filled with conflicting thoughts. Strange were the ways
+of life, she mused. Zell imagined that God punished
+people for not being good. But what about the earnest
+missionaries who had toiled so long among the Indians
+at The Gap? Surely there was no injustice with God.
+His ways, she knew, were past finding out, although
+she was certain that He did all things well, and overruled
+evil for good. Again she picked up the book and
+began to read at random words written with a trembling
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>“The Indians are leaving us, being drawn away by
+the attractions of white men. Only a few come to
+service now, and no doubt they will soon go, too. We
+have no children at school now, and the house is very
+lonely. We do not know what to do to counteract the
+mischief which has been wrought in our flock. We
+cannot offer the natives the allurements of the world
+which seem to appeal to them so strongly. Charles
+continues his translation work and ministering to the
+needs of the few Indians who remain, while I potter
+around the house and do a little reading and writing.
+My dear husband and I had a long, serious talk this
+morning, and took our troubles to Him, who has never
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>failed us yet, and we were greatly comforted. Charles
+read that beautiful and pathetic story of the Master
+kneeling alone in Gethsemane, and it cheered us.”</p>
+
+<p>Farther on she came to another entry which arrested
+her attention.</p>
+
+<p>“We were discussing to-day the advisability of giving
+up our work here, as Tom and Kate are the only
+Indians who are now with us. We were undecided
+what to do, whether to go to some other place or stay
+here, when a remarkable thing happened. My husband
+was seated at his table with his Bible open before him.
+Almost unconsciously he kept turning the pages as we
+talked, and when at last we were silent for a few minutes,
+each knowing that the time of decision had finally
+arrived, Charles suddenly bent forward, gave a slight
+exclamation of astonishment, and fixed his eyes intently
+upon the page open before him. I never saw
+such an expression of awe upon his face. He seemed
+like a man transfigured, and his eyes shone with a wonderful
+light. He then began to read in a low impressive
+voice from Ezekiel, ‘And I sought for a man
+among them, that should make up the hedge, and stand
+in the gap before me for the land, that I should not
+destroy it; but I found none.’ So overwhelmed was
+Charles by these words, that he rose to his feet and
+paced rapidly up and down the room. ‘The Gap, The
+Gap,’ he repeated, ‘I must stand in the gap, Martha.
+The Lord needs me here. This is The Gap, the place
+where I must remain. Wonderful, isn’t it, that I
+should be led to that passage? The Lord shall not want
+for a man to stand in The Gap here in the north, so
+long as I live.’ He urged me to go home to England,
+but I would not listen to such an idea. My place is by
+the side of my dear husband, for the Lord sometimes
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>needs a woman to stand in the gap as well as a man.
+We then both knelt down and thanked God for His
+guidance in our time of perplexity. Our duty is now
+clear, and we look forward to the future with trustful
+hearts.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion’s eyes were dim with tears as she finished
+reading this soul-stirring record of a noble woman.
+Those words inspired her, and made her own troubles
+seem small. And Mrs. Norris had stood in the gap,
+dying at her post of duty. Surely such faith and self-sacrifice
+would not be in vain. With the wreck of
+all their work around them, two great souls could still
+go forward in simple trust that all things would come
+out right at last. Now one was gone, and the other
+was lying battling for life in his little room. Would
+there ever come an answer to their prayers? she wondered,
+or had they toiled in vain?</p>
+
+<p>She was aroused by the missionary’s voice. It was
+so different from the last few days that she was somewhat
+startled. Hurrying to the bedroom, she saw the
+old man’s eyes fixed intently upon the door with a
+wondering look. Seeing her, he smiled.</p>
+
+<p>“What has happened?” he asked in a feeble but
+natural voice. “What am I doing here in bed? And
+who are you? I never saw you before.”</p>
+
+<p>“You have been very ill,” Marion explained, going
+to his side. “I am a nurse, Marion Brisbane, from
+Kynox.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have been ill, you say? That is strange. Ah,
+now I begin to understand. It was that man with the
+revolver. Did he shoot me? Yes, I remember. He
+wanted something I had. Did he get it?”</p>
+
+<p>“What was it?” Marion asked.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>“The ring Hugo, the trapper, gave me to keep. Oh,
+I hope it is safe.”</p>
+
+<p>“There, now, you must not worry, Mr. Norris,”
+Marion replied. “Just keep still, and I shall get you
+something to eat. You are very weak yet. The doctor
+should be here soon.”</p>
+
+<p>“What doctor?”</p>
+
+<p>“Dr. Rainsford, from Kynox. He should arrive at
+any minute now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Who went for him?”</p>
+
+<p>“A friend of yours, Hugo, the trapper.”</p>
+
+<p>“He did!”</p>
+
+<p>Marion at length left the room and soon returned
+bringing some rich broth she had in readiness. She
+placed the cup on a small table by the bed.</p>
+
+<p>“Drink this,” she quietly ordered. “You must be
+hungry.”</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose I am,” the missionary replied as he complied
+with her request. “It is good of you to wait upon
+me. I am not used to such attention, and it seems
+strange.”</p>
+
+<p>“You will have to get used to it, then, Mr. Norris.
+I am your nurse, and am in the habit of being obeyed.”</p>
+
+<p>The missionary smiled as he sipped the broth, and
+toyed with the spoon in the cup. He was very weak,
+and the effect of speaking and moving exhausted him.
+This Marion saw, and she turned to leave him, when
+he touched her gently on the arm.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t go yet,” he said. “I want to ask you a question.
+I am weak, I know, but tell me, have the Indians
+come back yet?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not yet,” was the reluctant reply.</p>
+
+<p>“You think they are coming, then?” There was a
+note of intense eagerness in the old man’s voice.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>“Let us hope so, Mr. Norris. Perhaps they will be
+here in time for Christmas.” This was merely a surmise
+on Marion’s part, but she had to say something
+of an encouraging nature.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I believe they will be here for Christmas,” and
+the man’s face brightened. “They always came then,
+and we had such a happy time. Martha, my dear wife,
+always looked forward to this blessed season. I feel
+certain that my flock will come back. I can see them
+trooping in from the distant camping-places, all eager
+to outstrip one another. Yes, they will surely come.”</p>
+
+<p>Leaving him with his vision, Marion slipped out of
+the room. She knew that he should be quiet, and she
+also wished to be by herself, that she might think. She
+was puzzled at the missionary’s unexpected recovery.
+She sat down near the stove, and leaned back against
+the wall, for she felt unusually tired. Had the man
+been shot? she asked herself. Perhaps the bullet had
+not entered his body as she had imagined. It might
+have struck him a glancing blow on the head. She
+should have questioned Tom, the Indian, more closely.
+Was it possible that after all he might recover, and
+live to stand in The Gap for some time yet?</p>
+
+<p>After a while she rose to her feet, moved softly to
+the door of the bedroom, and looked in. What she
+saw gave her great hope. The invalid’s eyes were
+closed, and his sleep was as that of a little child.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 29<br>
+<small>Good News</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">GREY dawn found Marion at work preparing
+breakfast. There was plenty of food, for Sergeant
+North had attended to that before leaving. The
+missionary’s cache had been drawn upon, and the
+Indian woman had brought what she could spare from
+her own cabin. Marion knew that Zell would soon be
+awake and ready for something to eat. She wished to
+have the girl well and strong for the trip back to Big
+Chance, which she knew would have to be made ere
+long. Then the missionary needed more nourishing
+food that he, too, might gain in strength. She also had
+the absent ones in mind. At any minute her father and
+the doctor might arrive, or the sergeant and the constable.
+Deep in her heart she was more anxious about
+John’s return than any one else. She was not so much
+concerned now about the missionary, as he seemed to
+be somewhat improved. Anyway, he was being well
+looked after. But with John, it was different. She
+knew of his great daring when in the line of duty, and
+who could tell what might happen when he overtook
+the villain he was pursuing? Suppose he should be
+shot! The thought was terrible, and her hands trembled
+as she lifted a kettle from the stove.</p>
+
+<p>At that instant a sound outside arrested her attention.
+Then she heard the jingle of bells, and voices of
+men. In another minute the door was thrust suddenly
+open and her father entered. Closing the door to keep
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>out the cold, he stood for a few seconds peering keenly
+before him, accustoming his eyes to the dimness within.
+Marion could see him plainly, and how big and powerful
+he appeared. What a tower of strength he seemed
+to her just then. He was heavily hooded, and the frost
+hung thick upon his beard and eyelashes. Never was
+she more delighted to see anyone, and she hurried
+quickly toward him.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, father,” she cried, “I am so glad you have
+come. Is the doctor with you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, he is here safe and sound. He is looking after
+the dogs, so will be in presently. How is the missionary?”</p>
+
+<p>“Much better, I believe. He has regained consciousness.
+But tell me, how is Tim, Zell’s lover?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, he’s getting along great, and should be well in
+a few weeks. The doctor got there just in the nick of
+time. My, he did a clever piece of work.”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo had scarcely finished speaking when with a
+great cry of joy Zell darted from her bedroom, and
+rushed toward the trapper. She had slept fully dressed
+so as to be ready should the doctor arrive in the night.
+Her eyes were shining and her face beaming with joy.
+Hugo looked at her with admiration.</p>
+
+<p>“Well, bless my heart!” he exclaimed. “This
+doesn’t look like the little girl I left so sick but a few
+days ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is Tim really better?” Zell asked, unheeding his
+comment. “Say it again.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, he is better, thanks to the Good Lord and the
+doctor. But he needs something yet to make the cure
+complete.”</p>
+
+<p>“And what is that?” Zell almost breathlessly inquired.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>“A little lass who scurried away and got into no end
+of trouble. When she gets back to Big Chance Tim
+will be all right. But, hello! what’s the matter? What
+are you blushing about?”</p>
+
+<p>Hugo was in great spirits, an entirely changed man
+from the sullen and morose rover of the trails. He
+seemed like one who had escaped from prison, and was
+enjoying to the full his unaccustomed freedom. Marion
+watched him with wonder and secret rejoicing. He
+was like the father she had known as a little girl. He
+had the same hearty voice and the ringing laugh. His
+very presence inspired confidence and good will.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes the doctor entered and was given
+a hearty greeting by Marion and Zell. He was a
+splendid type of man, a great trailsman, and
+beloved by miners and Indians alike. He had given
+up a good practice to come to the north to assist in the
+medical work which was being carried on at Kynox
+and other centres. No distance was too great, and
+difficulties were as nothing in his work of loving mercy.
+The most abject native would receive from him the
+same care as the most important person in the country.
+To the hospital at Kynox he had been a tower of
+strength, and everywhere the miners and prospectors
+swore by the word and honor of Doctor Stephen Rainsford.</p>
+
+<p>“This is the life I like best,” he had once said to a
+man who had asked him why he was willing to bury
+himself in the north. “It is the kind of service that
+suits my make-up. Cities and towns outside are
+crowded with doctors, too many, in fact, but in a country
+such as this they are very scarce.”</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Rainsford examined the missionary most thoroughly.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>He would not touch a bite of food until he
+had done so, hungry and tired though he was.</p>
+
+<p>“You are right in your conjecture, Miss Brisbane,”
+he at last informed the nurse. “The bullet did not
+enter his body, as you at first supposed. It evidently
+struck him a glancing blow on the head, judging from
+the mark I find there. Then I find another mark
+which might have been made when he fell, hitting, no
+doubt, the table as he did so. It was certainly a narrow
+escape.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was the Lord’s doing,” the missionary quietly
+replied. “Only His intervention saved me, for the
+revolver was fired pointblank at my head. He must
+have work for me still to do or else He would not have
+spared me. It is good of you, doctor, to come here on
+my behalf. I have often heard of your noble deeds.
+I hope you will be comfortable in this humble abode,
+and make yourself perfectly at home.”</p>
+
+<p>This Dr. Rainsford was well able to do. He was the
+life of the mission house, and as he and Hugo ate the
+breakfast which Marion had prepared, he related
+amusing incidents of the trip from Big Chance.</p>
+
+<p>“My friend Hugo, here, set me a hard pace,” he
+laughingly remarked. “He was in such a hurry that
+he would hardly stop to eat or to sleep.”</p>
+
+<p>“You seemed to be hungry about all the time,” the
+trapper laughingly replied. “You wanted to stop
+every hour or so for something to eat. We were
+entirely out of grub when we got here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did you pass the place where we had that terrible
+experience with the snow-slide?” Marion asked. “I
+shudder whenever I think of it.”</p>
+
+<p>“We did, although the last storm covered up the
+great scar. I was in fear of my life when coming along
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>that trail. We heard a great roar one night and I am
+certain it was another avalanche. We shall not go
+back that way, if I have anything to say about it.”</p>
+
+<p>“When do you expect to return, doctor?”</p>
+
+<p>“As soon as possible. I may be needed at Kynox.
+I have been away for some time.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are the nurses getting on all right?”</p>
+
+<p>“Very well, indeed. But they were worrying about
+you when I left.”</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t you wait until Sergeant North and the constable
+return?” Marion asked. “It would be so nice for
+us all to go back together.”</p>
+
+<p>“When do you expect them, Miss Brisbane?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do not know. It is impossible to tell how long
+it will take them to capture the man they are after.
+You have heard about the murder near the C. D.
+Cut-off, I suppose?”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, yes, it is the talk of the entire country. And,
+by the way, I have something which will interest you
+in connection with that murder. It is an article in a
+paper I received just before I left Kynox. And I have
+several letters for you, too, I had forgotten all about
+them.”</p>
+
+<p>Rising and crossing the room, he picked up a small
+leather bag he had deposited on a bench, opened it,
+fumbled around and at last brought forth a package.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s for the sergeant,” he explained. “Letters
+galore. Ah, here’s yours, Miss Brisbane,” he continued
+as he handed to her several letters tied together
+with a string.</p>
+
+<p>Eagerly Marion cut the string and examined the letters.
+By the postmarks she had a fairly good idea from
+whom they came, friends she had known in other days,
+and who had never forgotten her. What a feast she
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>would have reading their messages when alone by herself,
+if ever that time should come.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, here’s the paper at last.” It was the doctor
+speaking, and glancing up, Marion saw him unfolding
+a copy of the little weekly paper published at Swift
+Stream. “Now, listen to this,” he continued, “and let
+me know what you make of it.” He then began to
+read.</p>
+
+<p>“‘The C. D. Cut-off Murder.</p>
+
+<p>“‘A recent despatch throws new light upon the
+murder of William Haines and his wife which took
+place a short time ago near the C. D. Cut-off. From
+the description of them which has been received it seems
+that they were living under an assumed name. They
+were two of a noted band of thieves, but having
+changed their manner of living they fled to the Yukon,
+buried themselves in the wilderness. Here Haines,
+whose real name was Marson, cut wood for the river
+steamers, and rocked out gold on the river bars during
+the summer. He and his wife were noted for their
+hospitality to all travellers along the river. The
+murderer has not yet been found, although a certain
+man is under suspicion. The Police have information
+that may lead to his conviction should he be found. It
+seems that this man knew Haines and his wife years
+ago, and was himself one of the notorious band of
+thieves. He evidently discovered the whereabouts of
+his former companions, and visited them. What led to
+the fearful crime is not as yet known. It is surmised,
+however, that the Haines possessed considerable money,
+or valuable jewellery, and a quarrel over this may have
+been the cause of the murder.’”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s it, I believe,” Hugo interrupted. “There
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>was a ring, and I found it, a valuable one, if I am not
+greatly mistaken.”</p>
+
+<p>“You!” the doctor exclaimed, nearly dropping his
+paper in his excitement. “Why, then, didn’t you give
+it to the Police? What did you do with it?”</p>
+
+<p>“Kept it, of course, doctor, until I found someone I
+could trust. There were several reasons why I didn’t
+hand it over to the Police. And, besides, I wanted to
+keep it myself until I found the man who killed Bill
+Haines and his wife, and then—” Hugo’s eyes flashed
+with the old fire as he abruptly ended, and stood gazing
+straight before him.</p>
+
+<p>“Have you the ring now?” Marion asked. Her
+voice was low, and the old dread was upon her. Would
+not the possession of the ring implicate her father in
+the crime? How could he clear himself?</p>
+
+<p>“No, I have not the ring,” Hugo replied. “I gave it
+to the missionary to keep for me. But I cannot find it
+anywhere. It must be hidden in a very secure place, or
+else it has been stolen.”</p>
+
+<p>“It has been stolen.”</p>
+
+<p>These low impressive words caused all to start and
+look quickly around. What they saw was almost unbelievable.
+There in the doorway stood the missionary,
+white and haggard. His eyes were bright and filled
+with the light of determination. He tottered and
+leaned against the door post for support. The doctor
+stepped forward to assist him.</p>
+
+<p>“You should not be here,” he advised. “You are
+not strong enough to walk yet. Let me help you back
+to bed.”</p>
+
+<p>“No, no, I must stay up for a while. I shall soon be
+all right. I have something to tell you, and the Indians
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>will soon be here, so I must be ready to receive them.
+Help me to my chair, please.”</p>
+
+<p>Seeing how thoroughly determined the old man was,
+the doctor did as he was requested, and assisted him to
+his chair which Hugo had drawn up close to the stove.
+Wearily the missionary sank down and his head
+drooped forward. Marion at once brought him a drink
+of hot broth which when he had taken he felt stronger.</p>
+
+<p>“Thank you so much,” he murmured. “You are all
+very good to me. I shall be stronger in a few minutes.
+I am weaker than I thought I was. Now, about the
+ring. You gave it to me, Hugo, to keep. But it was
+stolen by Bill, the Slugger. When I wouldn’t give it
+to him, he shot me. That is all I remember. He must
+have taken it from my pocket.”</p>
+
+<p>A cry from Zell startled them. The girl was standing
+before the missionary with an expression of great
+fear upon her face.</p>
+
+<p>“What is the matter, dear?” Marion asked, going to
+her side.</p>
+
+<p>“It was Bill who killed Bill Haines and his wife,”
+she said in a hoarse whisper. “Tim told me so. But
+don’t let Bill know that I told you, or he will kill me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t you worry about that, girl,” Hugo replied.
+“Bill won’t touch you. He’ll have all that he can attend
+to without meddling with you.”</p>
+
+<p>Just at that moment the door suddenly opened and
+Kate entered. She was unusually excited, and the expression
+upon her face was one of great joy. She
+crossed the room and stood before the missionary.</p>
+
+<p>“Injun come,” she said. “More bimeby.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know it, Kate,” was the quiet reply. “The Lord
+told me that they were coming. Heat the church and
+ring the bell at service time.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>“Church warm, Gikhi. Kate no let fire go out.”</p>
+
+<p>“What! did you keep the fire going?” Mr. Norris
+asked in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah, Kate keep church warm.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why? I didn’t tell you to do that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Gikhi pray for Injun, eh? Gikhi pray Injun come
+bimeby?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, Kate, I always prayed that the Indians might
+return some day.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ah, ah, good,” and the woman’s face beamed with
+pleasure. “Kate know Lord hear Gikhi. Kate have
+church warm when Injun come.”</p>
+
+<p>Impulsively the missionary reached out and caught
+Kate’s rough hand in his. There were tears in his
+eyes, and he was deeply impressed by this woman’s
+remarkable faith and unswerving devotion.</p>
+
+<p>“God bless you, Kate,” he murmured. “Your faith
+is wonderful.”</p>
+
+<p>Marion’s eyes were misty as she stood silently witnessing
+this moving scene. Even Hugo and the doctor
+were deeply affected. They turned away, that their
+emotion might not be noted. But with Zell it was
+different. She dropped upon her knees before the
+missionary, caught his disengaged hand in hers and
+pressed it to her lips. She uttered no sound, but her
+action was more eloquent than words, and the missionary
+understood and was glad.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 30<br>
+<small>His Message of Farewell</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">THE missionary was greatly interested over the
+arrival of the natives. He insisted upon sitting
+at the little window facing the village where through a
+small clear space he could watch all that was going on
+outside. Zell stood near and at times she would draw
+his attention to Indians who passed on their way to
+their lodges.</p>
+
+<p>“Look, Gikhi, there are Slim Jim and his wife.
+They seem to be glad to get back. And, oh, there is
+Tommy Titsu with his mother! How big he is. He
+has grown so much since he left the school.”</p>
+
+<p>And truly it was an inspiring scene upon which their
+eyes rested. The entire place had suddenly become
+animated as if by magic. Men, women, and children
+were hurrying to and fro, and dogs innumerable were
+scurrying about. But so far not one of the Indians
+had come to the mission house, although all had glanced
+in that direction in passing. At length Kate entered
+and approached the missionary. Upon her face was an
+expression of deep concern.</p>
+
+<p>“What is the matter, Kate?” the missionary asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Tom no come,” she replied. “Tom die, mebbe.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, what makes you think so, Kate?”</p>
+
+<p>“Injun say Tom lost. Injun drink hootch, drive
+Tom from lodge. Injun no find Tom.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where was that?”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>“In hills. Bad white man bring hootch. Injun drink.
+Tom say ‘stop.’ Injun hit Tom on head. Tom go
+’way, die, mebbe.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where are the white men now, Kate?”</p>
+
+<p>“P’lice ketch ’um. Injun bring white man to Gap.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are they here?” Marion eagerly asked. “Have
+the Police come in?”</p>
+
+<p>“No P’lice come,” the woman replied. “Injun bring
+white man.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do they know where the Police are?”</p>
+
+<p>“Injun no savvey. Chase Bill, mebbe.”</p>
+
+<p>Although Marion was interested in the coming of
+the Indians, she was greatly disappointed because the
+sergeant had not returned. Hugo noticed this, and
+whispered a few words to the doctor, and together they
+left the building. They were gone for about an hour,
+and when they returned they explained where they had
+been.</p>
+
+<p>“We’ve been interviewing those white men,” the
+doctor announced, “and a queer story they relate. They
+told us that they were trading with the natives when
+two policemen came upon them, seized them and sent
+them to The Gap under a strong Indian guard. That
+was their yarn. But we learned from several natives
+that they were hootch pedlars, and had stirred up a
+large camp of natives to wild frenzy, and were making
+things lively. They also cast out Tom, the Indian,
+when he tried to show them the error of their ways.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did they harm the sergeant and the constable?”
+Marion anxiously asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Indeed they didn’t,” Hugo replied. “From what
+we gather those two men struck terror into the hearts
+of the entire band by their stern and prompt action.
+How I wish I had been there. Trust Sergeant North
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>to handle a serious situation. He has never failed
+yet.”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps it will be different, though, when he meets
+Bill, the Slugger,” Marion suggested. “He is a desperate
+man, so I have heard.”</p>
+
+<p>“He may be all that, but what can he do against
+those two sleuth-hounds of the trails? He won’t have
+even a look-in.”</p>
+
+<p>“But perhaps he will see them coming, hide, and
+shoot them down before they can do anything.”</p>
+
+<p>Both Hugo and the doctor laughed at her fears, and
+told her not to worry. But worry she did, and she
+imagined the sergeant lying in the snow with no one
+to help him. She told herself that she was very foolish,
+but she could not banish the thought. Anyway,
+she felt that she must hide her fears, so she said nothing
+more, and went quietly about her work.</p>
+
+<p>During the afternoon a number of Indians came to
+the house, and to these the missionary talked in the
+native tongue. Marion could not understand anything
+of the conversation, but Zell knew, and she interpreted
+in a whisper what was being said.</p>
+
+<p>“The Gikhi is saying how pleased he is to see the
+Indians back,” she explained to the nurse. “He is
+asking how they made out with their trapping, and if
+they brought in many pelts. They are telling him that
+they have done very well, but that they haven’t had as
+good success as they used to when they held services
+every night in their lodges. They are asking the Gikhi
+to forgive them, and he says he will, but that they must
+ask God to forgive them. They say they will, and are
+now asking for a service to-night in the church. The
+Gikhi tells them how pleased he is, and that he will be
+there to speak to all the Indians.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>When the natives had gone, the missionary showed
+signs of great weariness, so the doctor advised him to
+lie down and rest.</p>
+
+<p>“You must be strong for the service to-night,” he
+informed him. “You are weak yet, remember, and
+you must be in a fit condition to speak to your flock.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are quite right,” the old man agreed, as he
+allowed himself to be led to his little room. “I must
+speak to them, for there are many things I have to say.
+This has been a wonderful day, and the Lord is bringing
+marvellous things to pass. I have lived to see my
+flock return. Oh, if my dear wife were only here to
+be a sharer of my joy!”</p>
+
+<p>During the remainder of the afternoon the house
+was kept very quiet so as not to disturb the missionary.
+Hugo and the doctor both had a sleep, which they
+needed. Marion and Zell sat by the window watching
+what was taking place outside until darkness shrouded
+the land. They then lighted several candles, and Zell
+poured out to the nurse the thoughts which were uppermost
+in her mind, and so near her heart.</p>
+
+<p>“The Gikhi will need someone to look after him,
+Miss, and I am going to stay with him. Tim, I know,
+will come, too, and the Gikhi will marry us and we can
+live right here. I want to make up for the wrong I
+did, and show the Gikhi that I am a good girl.”</p>
+
+<p>“That is a splendid plan, Zell,” Marion replied.
+“But I thought that you were planning to go outside.
+You always wanted to go, didn’t you?”</p>
+
+<p>“I want to do that more than anything in the world
+except to marry Tim,” was the candid confession.
+“But it is my duty to stay here and look after the
+Gikhi. I long to see the wonderful things which Tim
+has told me about in the big cities outside. But while
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>the Gikhi is alive, I am going to stay and care for him—that
+is, if he will let me.”</p>
+
+<p>“You are a good girl, Zell,” Marion whispered, as
+she placed her arm lovingly around her companion and
+drew her close to her. “I wish you could go with me
+when I leave this country. I shall miss you very
+much.”</p>
+
+<p>“And will you go away, Miss?” Zell asked. “Oh,
+how can I get along without you? You have been so
+good to me. I shall never forget you.”</p>
+
+<p>Shortly before the appointed time for service, the
+missionary was up and eager to reach the building.
+He partook of a little food, and when well wrapped in
+his big fur coat, he was assisted by Hugo and the
+doctor out of the house and across the open. He
+stepped out bravely at first, but by the time the church
+was reached he was very weak. He smiled as he entered
+the building, which was filled with natives, some
+being forced to stand. He walked slowly up the aisle,
+and when he reached the little vestry, he sank down
+upon a small bench against the wall. He was determined
+to wear his robes, and Marion, who had followed,
+assisted him with his long white surplice, which
+came almost to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>“My stole, my stole; don’t forget that,” he reminded.
+“There it is hanging on that peg. The Indians always
+like to see me fully robed.”</p>
+
+<p>He was trembling with excitement as he made his
+way out of the vestry into the chancel. Here he knelt
+down, and when he had risen to his feet, he announced
+a hymn, and in a quavering voice started the tune in
+the native language. The Indians followed, and soon
+all were singing in the heartiest manner. To Marion
+this was all very wonderful, and she knew that the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>Indians were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Then
+followed the service, after which the missionary began
+his address. He leaned against the lectern for support,
+and it was only his excitement which enabled him to
+stand at all. He spoke very impressively for some time,
+his voice growing weaker every minute. Marion
+longed to speak to him, and advise him to desist, but his
+animated face and the marvellous light in his eyes restrained
+her. He seemed to her like some unearthly
+being. His white hair, flowing beard, and tall form
+made a most impressive scene in that dimly-lighted
+building. He had his message to deliver, and it would
+be almost sacrilege to interrupt him.</p>
+
+<p>At length he stopped, placed his hand wearily to his
+forehead, and then began to speak in English.</p>
+
+<p>“I wish to say a few words to you, my kind white
+friends,” he said. “This service is the direct answer to
+my prayers. I have waited long for this occasion, and
+I knew that the Lord would hear, and bring this to
+pass. At times I was tempted to leave this place and
+go elsewhere. But I was determined that the Lord
+would not be without a man to stand in The Gap. I
+have stood here for long years, and the Lord has been
+very good. I can say like that worthy man of old,
+‘Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace
+according to Thy word. For mine eyes have seen Thy
+salvation which Thou hast prepared—’”</p>
+
+<p>He suddenly stopped, his face turned deathly white,
+his hands groped as if for support, and then he
+dropped upon the floor right at the foot of the lectern.
+With a startled cry, Marion darted to his side, while
+Hugo and the doctor hurried forward. The latter
+knelt upon the floor and quickly examined the prostrate
+man. For a few minutes a complete silence prevailed.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>The Indians stood as statues, awe-struck by
+the scene before them. At length the doctor rose to
+his feet, his face very grave. He stood as if dazed.
+Marion noticed this, and touched him lightly on the
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>“Can’t you do anything for him?” she asked.</p>
+
+<p>“No, he is beyond earthly aid,” he replied in a low
+whisper.</p>
+
+<p>“We must tell the Indians and get them out of the
+church.”</p>
+
+<p>So absorbed was Marion with what had just taken
+place that she noticed nothing else. She stood bewildered
+and perplexed, not even heeding the light
+tread of moccasined feet up the aisle. But when a big
+tall form stood by her side, she glanced quickly around,
+and when she saw Sergeant North standing there it
+was only with difficulty that she suppressed a cry of
+joy and astonishment. The next instant a strong arm
+was placed around her, and silently the two stood and
+looked steadfastly upon the dead man. Although
+greatly saddened with what had just taken place, Marion’s
+heart beat fast at the thought that John was
+safe and once more with her. She knew that the missionary
+had served his life nobly and well, and that he
+had died in harness, and in the very place where he
+would have wished to die, surrounded by his returned
+flock for whom he had given his life. It surely was
+not wrong for her to feel happy on such an occasion
+with her loved one with her again.</p>
+
+<p>And as they stood there, Old Tom, Kate, and Zell
+came slowly forward, and stood looking upon their
+beloved Gikhi. Marion was impressed at the quietness
+of their manner, and the expression of awe and reverence
+upon their faces. At a word from the doctor,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>Tom turned and spoke briefly to the Indians. In a few
+minutes they were out of the church and hurrying to
+their own lodges.</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps you had better go back to the mission
+house, Miss Brisbane,” the doctor suggested. “The
+sergeant might as well go with you. Hugo, Tom, and
+I can do all that’s necessary now.”</p>
+
+<p>The sergeant at once took a step forward, faced the
+missionary lying before him, and gave the military
+salute.</p>
+
+<p>“To a noble man,” he simply explained. He then
+turned, took Marion by the arm, and together they
+moved down the aisle, and out of the church.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak"><span class="allsmcap">CHAPTER</span> 31<br>
+<small>Plans</small></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap">“EARTH to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
+Reverently the doctor read the words to the
+committal of the Burial Service, while Hugo stood
+near and sprinkled the earth upon the rough box which
+contained the mortal remains of Charles Norris. The
+Indians had nearly all arrived and were crowded about
+the open grave. They had lost their best earthly friend,
+and their sad faces showed how fully they realised the
+fact. Marion, with Zell, stood near the grave with her
+father on one side and the sergeant on the other, with
+the constable just behind. Close by was another grave,
+marked with a simple wooden cross, bearing only the
+name of Martha Norris, and the date of her death.
+As Marion looked at the emblem of salvation she
+thought of the life which the woman had led as revealed
+by the Journal she had left. Soon there would
+be another cross, and in years to come strangers would
+read the inscriptions, and wonder, perhaps. But the
+Indians would remember, she felt sure, and would pass
+on from generation to generation the story of those
+two pioneers of the Gospel at The Gap.</p>
+
+<p>John North, too, was thinking deeply. He had not
+spoken again of the deep things of his heart since that
+day out in the mountains. Marion knew nothing of
+all this, although she was surprised at his fervent
+“Amen” when the doctor had finished reading the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>Burial Service. But as she turned away from the
+grave and walked slowly back to the mission house, he
+told her all. It was the confession of a man who had
+fought a hard fight against his doubts, and had conquered.
+There was little of the sentimental about
+North, but his body trembled and his voice became
+somewhat husky as he talked. Among other things he
+told of the impression made upon him by the sight of
+the missionary maintaining his post at The Gap, and
+the thoughts which had come to him on the mountain
+trail. He had not finished his story when they reached
+the mission house and entered. Then it was that
+Marion threw her arms impetuously around his neck,
+and in words broken with emotion told him of her joy
+at the great change that had come into his life.</p>
+
+<p>“It is almost too good to be true,” she said. “How
+I have longed and prayed that it might come some day,
+but I had no idea it would be so soon.”</p>
+
+<p>“It is due in a large measure to you, sweetheart,”
+the sergeant acknowledged, giving her an affectionate
+kiss. “It was your love which first began to warm the
+coldness of my heart. I thought that such a thing was
+impossible until I met you. Then all that followed were
+like so many links in the wonderful chain of faith. I
+shall never forget that terrible night I spent with that
+raving maniac in that cabin. I comprehended then as
+never before the hopeless nature of unbelief and disobedience
+to the higher life of the Master. I shall
+tell you sometime of the wonderful thoughts that came
+to me as I watched by that wretched man. They are
+almost too sacred to mention, but I shall reveal them to
+you some day. Then when we reached The Gap in
+time to attend that service, and listened to the missionary’s
+farewell words, and later looked upon his
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>face so calm in death, the last strand of doubt was
+broken. What a difference between that man of God
+and the wretched raving creature we have confined in
+the patrol-house over yonder. That missionary standing
+at his post of duty, or ‘in the gap,’ as he termed
+it, has had a far more reaching effect than he ever
+knew. His remaining at his post, true and faithful,
+undaunted by failure, praying and trusting, was an
+important link in saving my soul. There, I’m afraid
+that I have tired you with all this. Anyway, it relieves
+me to have someone to speak to.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t think that you have tired me, John,” Marion
+replied. “You have no idea how happy you have made
+me by telling me all this.”</p>
+
+<p>No longer did they have time for further conversation,
+as steps sounded outside, and Hugo and the doctor
+entered, with Zell following close behind. By their
+quiet manner and sober faces it was easy to tell how
+deeply they had been affected by the service they had
+just attended.</p>
+
+<p>“We have done all we can,” the doctor remarked as
+he sat down somewhat wearily in a chair near the
+stove. “I have attended many funerals in my life, but
+none ever appealed to me like the one I have just witnessed.
+It was the grandest of them all. As I stood
+there watching the Indians fill in the grave, I thought
+of Stevenson’s touching words:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="first2">“‘Under the wide and starry sky</div>
+<div class="verse">Dig my grave and let me lie.</div>
+<div class="verse">Glad did I live and gladly die,</div>
+<div class="verse">And I lay me down with a will.</div>
+<div class="verse">Home is the sailor, home from the sea,</div>
+<div class="verse">And the hunter is home from the hill.’”</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>“You can quote poetry as neatly as Rolfe,” the sergeant
+remarked. “You two are well mated. He should
+be here to cap your verse.”</p>
+
+<p>“No doubt he could do it better, sergeant, for I
+understand he is filled with poetry. That piece I
+quoted is about all I remember, and it seems suitable
+to the death of that grand old man.”</p>
+
+<p>As the afternoon was now well advanced, Marion
+and Zell began to prepare supper. When the meal was
+ready and all gathered at the table, the constable arrived.
+He looked very tired and worn, but quite cheerful.</p>
+
+<p>“My, I’m glad to be out of hearing of that maniac,”
+he remarked, as he removed his cap and outer coat.
+“He’s getting worse all the time, and the swelling in
+his leg is very bad. I believe it will finish him.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is he well guarded?” the sergeant asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes. Several Indians are looking after him.”</p>
+
+<p>“What are you going to do with him?” Hugo
+enquired.</p>
+
+<p>“Take him to Kynox,” the sergeant replied. “It
+will be a hard and disagreeable trip. But Rolfe will
+take several Indians along. You must get away early
+in the morning, Tom,” he reminded, turning to the
+constable. “Get everything ready to-night.”</p>
+
+<p>“I have made all preparations, sergeant, and have
+secured a fine team of dogs. We shall travel fast.”</p>
+
+<p>“Suppose you take my team, sergeant, while I go
+with Tom,” the doctor suggested. “I am in a hurry,
+too, and the madman might need special attention on
+the way. There is little I can do, I am well aware,
+but then one never knows. The rest of you can travel
+more leisurely.”</p>
+
+<p>“Are we to close up this house, and leave it just as
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>it is?” Marion asked. “What a pity there is no one
+to take the missionary’s place and continue his work.”</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, there will be some one ready to come, never
+fear,” the sergeant replied. “I shall notify the Bishop
+and most likely he will send a man here. We need
+not worry about that just now. The Indians will remain
+loyal, I feel quite certain. They have been
+taught a severe lesson.”</p>
+
+<p>All through the day Hugo had been very quiet,
+speaking seldom, and apparently wrapped in serious
+thought. But that night as they all gathered around
+the stove, he filled, lighted his pipe, and looked upon
+the little group.</p>
+
+<p>“I suppose this will be the last night we shall spend
+together for some time,” he began. “Zell will marry
+Tim and live outside, so her lot in life will be settled.
+The doctor will still carry on his good work among
+the needy, and will win more jewels in his crown.
+Rolfe will develop into a full-fledged poet. Not likely
+he hears what I am saying, as he is so busy writing—a
+masterpiece, no doubt. Now, that leaves three of
+us, and what are we to do?”</p>
+
+<p>“Two will get married as soon as they can, if I am
+not mistaken,” the doctor replied with a twinkle in his
+eye.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh, not for some time yet,” Marion declared. “At
+least, not until John leaves the Force.”</p>
+
+<p>“And when will that be?” Hugo enquired.</p>
+
+<p>“Next May,” the sergeant replied. “My time will
+be up then, and I am going to leave. I am getting
+tired of this roving life, and have been at it too long
+already. I should have left years ago.”</p>
+
+<p>“Next May, eh? Well, that will suit fine,” and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span>Hugo blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “Now, what
+are you going to do then?”</p>
+
+<p>“I have not the least idea. Go outside, I suppose,
+and begin all over again. The outlook is not very
+bright, I assure you.”</p>
+
+<p>“And having a wife will make it all the more difficult,
+eh?”</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps so. But something will turn up.”</p>
+
+<p>“Now, suppose something should turn up here before
+you go out, how would that suit you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Very well, indeed. But what do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p>“How would you like to do some mining?”</p>
+
+<p>“Not on your life, unless I can strike something
+rich. I do not feel inclined to spend the rest of my
+days following the will o’ wisp of gold. I have seen
+too much of it. Why, there are many men wandering
+about this country hoping and hoping in vain for a
+rich find.”</p>
+
+<p>“But suppose the gold is already found, what then?”</p>
+
+<p>“That would make a big difference.”</p>
+
+<p>“Certainly it would, and that’s why I have mentioned
+it. Now listen. I know where there is gold,
+plenty of it. I struck it rich several years ago in a
+creek away to the south of us, and I am the only one
+who knows where it is.”</p>
+
+<p>“You did!” The sergeant as well as all the others
+were keenly interested now. Even Rolfe paused in
+his writing to listen.</p>
+
+<p>“Yes, I struck it rich,” Hugo repeated, “but never
+intended to make use of it. I never expected to have
+any need of it, and did not report my discovery. During
+those years when I thought that I was being followed
+by the Police I was very vindictive and gloated
+over the thought that I knew where there was gold,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>and it was known to me alone. At times I longed to
+tell some poor unfortunate devils where it was, but I
+knew that others would reap the benefit, so I said
+nothing. Perhaps it was just as well, otherwise we
+would not have it to look forward to now.”</p>
+
+<p>“Where is this creek of which you speak?” the sergeant
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“That must remain a secret until we are ready to
+begin work,” Hugo replied with a smile. “There are
+several of us here, and it might unintentionally leak
+out. But the gold is there, and it will keep a while
+longer. I have samples of it in one of my cabins which
+I shall show you some day. When the time is ripe, I
+shall notify you all here, even Marion and Zell, so we
+can all get in on the ground floor.”</p>
+
+<p>“May I have a hand in it, too?” the doctor asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Sure. We shall need a doctor along, and you shall
+have your share. Then when we get the gold we can
+either do the mining ourselves, or sell out. There will
+be no trouble about that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you think you could live in any other country
+but this, father?” Marion questioned.</p>
+
+<p>“Just give me a chance, my dear, and you will see
+how soon I shall hike outside. I have several old
+scores to settle there which money alone can accomplish.
+I have been shamefully treated, and never
+wanted to square up until recently. Oh, yes, I shall
+make a sensation some day in the smug business world,
+and money alone can do it. But that’s another secret
+which must remain with me until the right time. There,
+now, I think I have told you enough for one night.
+Henceforth I shall be no longer Hugo, the trapper, but
+‘Hugo, the miner.’ How does that sound?”</p>
+
+<p>“Very good,” the sergeant replied. “But before
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span>you go to bed you must listen to what Rolfe has written.
+He has finished his poem of inspiration and is
+waiting to read it. Come on, Tom, and get through
+with it.”</p>
+
+<p>“It isn’t much,” the constable replied, “but merely
+a sample of what I shall do when I get time. These
+are just a few hurried thoughts I have been turning
+over in my mind ever since I came to The Gap and
+saw the old missionary standing bravely at his post
+of duty. It applies not only to him but to others of
+his kind. Later I shall lick the verses into proper
+shape. I have called this poem ‘Across the Marches,’
+suggested by some words I read in an old paper which
+I happened to pick up in this very house. It was a
+report of an address given by the Archbishop of Canterbury
+to a number of missionaries leaving for their
+distant fields of work. ‘We from across the Marches
+stand by you in your great endeavours,’ he said. Those
+words appealed to me. This is what I have written
+as my humble tribute:</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="first">“Where the land lies dumb in winter, and the mountain trail is steep,</div>
+<div class="verse">Where the frost bites like hot iron, and the snow-shoes gall the feet;</div>
+<div class="verse">Where the wind rips down the valley with its deadly, hurtling   sting,</div>
+<div class="verse">And the snow drifts like long breakers in its blinding, maddening fling,</div>
+<div class="verse">There across the great lone Marches press the Heralds of the King.”</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="first">“Where the frontier shelves to vagueness, and the trails lead God knows where,</div>
+<div class="verse">Where the Great Lights hurl their magic through the twanging midnight air,</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>
+<div class="verse">There they grope and there they falter, sweeping plain and crested dome,</div>
+<div class="verse">Holy Ordered, sturdy cruisers, bringing light where’er they roam,</div>
+<div class="verse">Heartened far across the Marches by the Church of God at Home.”</div>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<div class="first">“There they lead and there they battle, there the ranks are thinned and wan,</div>
+<div class="verse">But they lift aloft the Banner, and the few still stagger on;</div>
+<div class="verse">On, with faces white and weary, on, the tide of night to stem;</div>
+<div class="verse">On, for precious soul-wrought jewels for the Master’s diadem;</div>
+<div class="verse">Church of Christ, across the Marches, lift your pleading prayers for them.”</div>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Slowly Rolfe folded the paper when he had finished,
+and thrust it into an inside pocket. There was silence
+for a few minutes, and then Hugo reached out his big
+right hand.</p>
+
+<p>“Put it there, young man,” he said. “I congratulate
+you for those words. You have struck the right note,
+eh, sergeant, don’t you think so?”</p>
+
+<p>“I do,” was the quiet reply. “Tom, I believe you
+will make a poet yet if you keep at it.”</p>
+
+<p>“He is a poet now,” Marion declared. “I enjoyed
+that poem very much, and you will let me have a copy
+of it, will you not, Mr. Rolfe?”</p>
+
+<p>“Why, yes, Miss Brisbane, I shall be delighted to do
+so. But suppose you wait until I publish my first book
+of poems. I shall dedicate it to you if you will let me,
+and I shall include this poem in the volume.”</p>
+
+<p>That night Marion and the sergeant sat long together
+after the others had gone to rest. There were many
+things they talked about in low voices, and wonderful
+were the plans they formed for the future. They were
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>seated side by side near the stove, their eyes bright and
+their hearts filled with joy and contentment.</p>
+
+<p>“It is very wonderful how everything has turned
+out all right at the last,” Marion whispered. “This
+northland will always be very dear to me. It was here
+I found my long-lost father, and you.”</p>
+
+<p>“And wonderful things are still ahead, let us hope,”
+the sergeant replied. “It seems to me that Another
+has been guiding and leading us together. And may
+He who has guided us still continue to guide over that
+long, long trail which lies beyond.”</p>
+
+<p>He bent his head and his lips met hers in one ravishing
+kiss of enduring love.</p>
+
+<p class="center">THE END</p>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="transnote">
+<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p>
+
+<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
+
+<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p>
+
+<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77231 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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