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diff --git a/77231-h/77231-h.htm b/77231-h/77231-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..716b7a1 --- /dev/null +++ b/77231-h/77231-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11419 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The trail of the Golden Horn | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.tiny {width: 10%; margin-left: 45%; margin-right: 45%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +td {padding-left: 0.5em;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.indentright {padding-right: 2.5em;} +.indentright2 {padding-right: 6em;} +.indentright3 {padding-right: 9em;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph3 {text-align: center; font-size: x-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.xxlarge {font-size: 175%;} +.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .indent {text-indent: 1.5em;} + +.poetry .first {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} +.poetry .first2 {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 2.75em;} + +@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } +.x-ebookmaker .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + +p.drop-cap { + text-indent: -0.35em; +} +p.drop-cap2 { + text-indent: -0.75em; +} +p.drop-cap:first-letter, p.drop-cap2:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0em 0.15em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height:0.85em; + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2 { + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2:first-letter +{ + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; +} + + </style> +</head> +<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   :   :   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> diff --git a/77231-h/images/cover.jpg b/77231-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..01d66fc --- /dev/null +++ b/77231-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/77231-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/77231-h/images/coversmall.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..455d03b --- /dev/null +++ b/77231-h/images/coversmall.jpg diff --git a/77231-h/images/i_logo.jpg b/77231-h/images/i_logo.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6496d17 --- /dev/null +++ b/77231-h/images/i_logo.jpg diff --git a/77231-h/images/i_title.jpg b/77231-h/images/i_title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..64237e2 --- /dev/null +++ b/77231-h/images/i_title.jpg |
