t> ^M' W ^, IMA'^E EVALUATION TEST fARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I [f i^ IIIIIM ■^ 1^ 1112.2 ^ 1^ 12.0 1.8 |l.25 1.4 (1.6 ■« 6" ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14S80 (716) S73-4S03 f/. CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICIVIH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproduc'^ions / Institut canadien de microreproductions historiques Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques The Institute has attempted to obtain the best original copy available for filming. Features of this copy which may be bibliographically unique, which may alter any of the images in the reproduction, or which may significantly change the usual method of filming, are checked below. n n D n Coloured covers/ Couverture de couleur Covers damaged/ Couverture endommagde Covers restored and/or laminated/ Couverture restaurie et/ou pelliculde Cover title missing/ Le titre de couverture manque Coloured maps/ Cartes giographiques en couleur Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur Bound with other material/ Relid avec d'autres documents Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion along interior margin/ Lareliure serr^e peut causer de I'ombre ou de la distortion le long de la marge intirieure Blank leaves added during restoration may appear within the text. Whenever possible, these have been omitted from filming/ II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajout6es lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont pas 6t6 filmdes. Additional comments:/ Commentaires suppl6mentaires; L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire qu'il lui a 6t6 possible de se procurer. Les details de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-dtre uniques du point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une modification dans la mdthode normale de filmage sont indiquis ci-dessous. D D D v/ D D D This iten is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est it\m6 au taux de r6duction indiqu^ ci-dessous. Coloured pages/ Pages de couleur Pages damaged/ Pages endommagdes Pages restored and/or laminated/ Pages restaur^es et/ou pelliculdes Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ Pages ddcolor^es, tachetdes ou piqu6es Pages detached/ Pages d6tach6es nri Showthrough/ Transparence Quality of prir Qualiti in6gale de I'impression Includes supplementary materia Comprend du materiel supplementaire I I Quality of print varies/ I I Includes supplementary material/ Only edition available/ Seule Edition disponible Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to ensure the best possible image/ Les pages totalement ou partiellement obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, etc., ont 6t6 film6es d nouveau de fapon d obtenir la meilleure imag«> possible. 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X 30X A 12X 16X 20X 24X 28X 32X ilaire IS details ques du nt modifier ,' i^* ME NOTAH ' (THE HEARl's jOV). Frontispiece, \* » .■• >r- MENOTAH a tralc of tbe IRiel IRcOelHon BY ERNEST G. HENHAA\ WITH ILLUST!)ATIONS BY HAL LUDLOW tispiece. LONDON HUTCHINSON 34 I'aternoster MDCCCXCVII \) // AUG 1 6 1972 &04854 CONTENTS part I THE HEART'S JOY CHAPTER I THE FOREST CHAPTER II MENOTAH — HEART THAT KNOWS NOT SORROW CHAPTER III THE BUDDING OF A PASSION . • • THE FORT THE FIGHT CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI THE BREAKING OF THE DAWN -'- V • t • • PACB 3 20 34 5° 70 85 ^ ConteniB part II n/fs //EART'S CRfEF C fi A P T K R I THE TRRF, OF KNOWLEDGE • I CHAPTER II THE COMING OF DAVE . rACiK 97 JTO CIIAPTKR III THE RIVALS CIIAPTEU IV WHITE WINS . PACTOLUS DENTON's DESCENT • t • • CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI f20 »32 'SI 1 68 CHAPTER VII AN INCIDENT . i8o CHAPTER VIII THE PIERIAN SPRING CHAPTER IX THE LAUGH THAT DIED . vi 189 t • 199 Contents i^ part III mil HEART'S PEACE CHAPTER I FA«B 97 no 120 '32 'SI i68 i8o 189 LAMONT ■ • THE LIFK-OUJECT RESURRECTION CHARACTER . CHAPTER II CHAPTER III • • • I t • CHAPTER IV • ♦ I THE DEAD HEART . CHAP 1' E R V « • • DURING THE DAY DISCOVERY RETRIBUTION . DARKNESS CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII « • CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER IX CHAPTER X M'AULIFFE's RESOLUTION CHAPTER XI THE heart's PEACE • » PAl.K 239 252 . 266 284 293 305 322 338 347 356 PREFATORY NOTE In the following story of the Canadian North- West Rebellion, Louis Rial — leader of a hopeless enter- prise — has not been introduced as an active character. He was himself so colourless, so commonplace, that a true picture must have been uninteresting, while a fictitious drawing would have been unsatisfactory and out of place with the plan of this story. He was much like his brother, who lives to-day on an unpretentious farm in the Red River Valley, dull- witted, heavy- featured and obtuse — in fact, a French half-breed of the ordinary stamp. So the plot of this work tends more towards the study of passion, and dwells upon what was un- doubtedly one of the principal reasons for the revolt, viz., the unscrupulous treatment of the Indian women by the white invaders. The 'Governor and Company of Adventurers of England trading into Hudson's Bay,' generally and more commonly known by the simpler title of tl.e * Hudson's Bay ix J Company,' had well paved the way for this miserable laxity in matters of morality. The mighty shadow which looms behind this tale of the Rebellion is that of the loyal Arch- bishop Tach6. He it was, though the fact has not been recognised generally, who, almost unaided, crushed the rising spirit of independence in half- breeds and Indians, and brought the insurrection to a close. Surely it is not too late to do justice to the memory of this truly unselfish prelate. The writer was present in the riverside town of St Boniface on a certain still evening during the August of 1894. There all the houses, and even the trees that lined the streets, were heavily draped in black; men and women passed slowly with heads uncovered and attitude of grief; it was as though each had lost his or her nearest and dearest relative. There was not a sound along that little town of mourning. For the Archbishop lay dead in the Cathedral- Later, when the sun was setting over this place of universal grief, the writer came within the dark building, crept up a winding stairway, to find him- self confronted suddenly by a singularly solemn spectacle. Before the altar, robed in full ponti- ficals, sat in Stat*" the dead Archbishop, while J (jjrefof^ife ®ofe ^ M ^i lamps flickered solemnly, and muttered intercessions arose from the trembling lips of a ring of kneeling priests. This strange silence, broken only by the whisper- ings, or occasional deep gasps of breath ; the feeble glimmerings of lights along the rapidly darkening scene; the presence of the mighty dead still pre- siding in the second Cathedral that his efforts had raised * — all this made up a spectacle dramatically impressive, and one not readily to be forgotten. The writer came at length to the side of the dead prelate, and bent to reverently kiss the cold gloved hand of the mighty dead. Then he departed, with a silent resolve to do such justice as he could to the memory of this beloved Father and Pastor, who had worked so nobly for the welfare of the country of his adoption. Menotah's story is a sad one, yet, for purposes of truth, not sad enough. The colours might well be painted with a far darker brush, but the book would then probably be deemed too ghastly and too realistic. The steady march of civilisation is pushing farther north each year, while Menotah's history is repeated daily. The only thing which can * The first Cathedral was destroyed by fire immediately after com- pletion, when all the parish records were destroyed. xi free that wonderful land from the vice and oppres- sion of its masters is the building of the Hudson's Bay Railway. About forty miles of the track (from Winnipeg to St Laurent on Lake Manitoba) have been constructed, but the rails lie rotting in the prairie grass. This line would open up a country of boundless timber and mineral resources, and might well create many a fresh industry. The characters in this ,vork are for the most part actual life studies. None are overdrawn, not even Peter Denton, least of all M'Auliffe. The local colour is simply so much word photo- graphy. The particular fort on the Great Saskat- chewan has been described with absolute accuracy of detail. The river pool (Chap. II.) is there; also the island in mid-stream, where the fight actually occurred ; the great rapids, the oil swamp, the log wharf — all are there. In fact, description and dia- logue has entailed upon the writer rather an effort of memory than any strain upon the imagination. xii rg (jtofe d oppres- Hudson's ack (from )ba) have ig in the a country irces, and the most irawn, not Drd photo- at Saskat- e accuracy there; also ht actually np, the log »n and dia- 2r an effort lagination. PART I THE HEART'S JOY 3 'i I MENOTAH: A Tale of the Riel Rebellion CHAPTER I THE FOREST 'THERE will be full moon to-night, and a south wind. Then the evil one will steal from the marshes. For there will be war and fire. War and Fire ! * Within that deep green shade of the forest, amidst the picturesque sweepings of the foliage, the heat rays of the sun could scarcely be felt, for odorous firs over- spread their thick tresses above. Here, in this strange, peaceful retreat, active squirrels leapt with mathe- matical accuracy from bough to bough ; mosquito hawks, in their green and gold glories, cut through the slanting beams of light with a sharp hissing of wings ; erratic locusts, on a lower plane, hurled their aimless bodies clumsily into space, falling wherever destiny might direct. The speaker remained invisible, while the lingering sounds of the joyous voice died slowly away. A young man, who heard the sudden cry from the heart 3 ^ (fflenofgg of the surrounding silence, started and listened eagerly for an approaching footstep, which came not. Only the happy echo broke upon the calm in a full tide of harmony ; this merged into a half gasp of musical laughter ; then came peace again as the last vibra- tion settled into silence. The listener wondered, then became interested. There h?d been no flaw in the musical cadence of that cry. The fiery utterance — bearing a latent warn- ing — proceeded surely from the heart of one who found life a time of joy, who gloried in the exultation of overflowing vitality, who was also intoxicated by an over-gift of health. This passing sound, like the flitting shadow cast by an invisible presence^ con- tained a message of youth's hot passion, of a self- conscious rapture of beauty. Those words fell from the lips of one who had made no acquaintance with sorrow. The expectant, yet disappointed, listener shifted the rifle to his shoulder and rubbed his hands, which were hot and moist, upon a bunch of flowering moss. He seemed uneasy, if his feelings might be judged by the anxious attention he gave to each slight move- ment in the adjoining bush. But after a period of waiting he drew himself up, inclined his head for- ward, and listened attentively. Then he nodded and smiled in self-satisfied manner, listened again, and finally began to work his way through the thick undergrowth with the subtle motions of the practised bushman. Perhaps a rippling echo of that musical voice had travelled faintly down the wind and touched his ear. t^c Sorest ^ interested. ;adence of .tent warn- " one who exultation xicated by id, like the senccs con- , of a self- Js fell from itance with ;ner shifted .ands, which rering moss. )e judged by slight move- a period of is head for- nodded and 1 again, and rh the thick the practised that musical e wind and He disappeared, while the boundless forest of the Great Sask..tchewan whisoered drearily beneath the soft-stirring breeze of evening. Lonoly. somewhat wild, yet certainly there was a rough grandeur in this particular arrangement of nature's handiwork ; a stern beauty, which must have fascinated the hunter; a wonderful blending of colours, which would have caused the heart of the painter to despair. Paths, in the ordinary sense of the term, were there none, though a sinuous, barely defined trail, where mocassined feet passed occasion- ally, writhed dimly away here and thee. The ven- turesome explorer who plunged into these unknown recesses chose out his own particular route, fought a way through the entanglement of undergrowth, while none might ever follow in his footsteps. Tangled masses and bewildering festoons of droop- ing boughs, tinted to many a different shade of green; black and grey rocks ; red sand stretches, surmounted by wire grass or huge ant-hills ; octopus-like bushes, thorn-protected and thickly covered with red berries. Such were the principal objects of distinction beneath a solemn green canopy, which spread like some threatening cloud overhead. * * ^ * * ^ Crack ! Wild echoes fled shrieking through the forost, while a pale mist of blue smoke rose, flouted upward fantas- tically, curled and lengthened — then finally melted. Just before that sharp, whip-like report had cut the air, a splendid buck deer sprang from the thick of the sweeping branches out into the open. Away it 5 bounded, with the ease and certainty of a weli-in.jied arrow, over a ridge of splintered rocks. Away— across to the opposite shadows, where lay shelter and life. But then the weapon screamed death, and spat the bullet forth. While still in the air, the graceful creature's body stiffened, as though each muscle had been thrilled and stretched by an electric current. The nimble feet touched the ground, but not now to dart away in fresh flight. The deer tottered forward, because the impulse to seek shelter was a dying passion, but the slender legs gave way. After staggering blindly, it fell to its knees; then, after swaying backwards and forwards with pitiful gasping, it finally rolled over upon the moss bed with a groan, while warm blood trickled cruelly over the short soft fur. ' Good shot, Winton ! You took him fine, boy.' Then two men stepped from the bushes. The one, who thus spoke his opinion of the other's aim, was an elderly man, thin and dark featured. His some- what sallow face was decorated by nature with a grizzled beard, while more than an occasional grey hair might have been observed beneath the rim of his felt hat. Extremely dark eyes and heavy mouth revealed the fact of Indian ancestry. His companion, scarcely more than a boy, was unmistakably English. The breeze stirred his fair hair at an altitude of over six feet above ground; age could not claim from him more than twenty-one years. 'Shot a bit too far back, though,' continued Sinclair 6 C0e Sotezi ^ the hunter. ' Don't say it wasn't difficult to kill from your position, and you took him on the jump.* 'Dead, isn't it?' said Winton, blowing down his rifle barrel. The hunter laughed. • No, sir. Get over there with your knife, and finish him. Don't leave the poor brute to bleed and sob himself to death.' The other slung the rifle to his shoulder, drew a long hunting knife, then made across the open space. He knelt by the side of the panting creature, wound his fingers round a branching antler, and pulled the head round to inflict the cottp de grAce. Sinclair leaned up against a rock, his arms folded, a smug smile gradually widening across his features. 'You shouldn't mutilate,' he called out carelessly. 'Shoot to kill outright — specially deer. It's bad policy to only wound a buck.' Then he chuckled as he perceived the statuesque position of his companion. With a necessary hardening of the heart — for the stabbing of a deer in cold blood makes the man of refinement feel strangely a murderer — Winton raised his knife and prepared to cut across the long veins swelling at the side of the palpitating neck. The blade descended, his grasp tightened, the fteel flashed down — when suddenly the graceful creature lifted its head with a dying effort, and gazed with great, suffering eyes full into his face. It was then that the young man paused, while the dry chuckle broke out behind. For in that seemingly unequal contest the animal won. All strength fled from the murdering hand 7 n •s; (tKtenofft^ II when its owner beheld those dark fixed eyes of his piteous victim. They were large and luminous, while tear drops of pain trickled along and blackened the surrounding fur. The small black nostrils quivered pitifully in death gaspings. A heartbroken torture overspread the face, which reproached him for the cruel deed of his hand. A minute later the knife fell unused to the ground. A sickening revulsion of feeling followed, sweeping over him with overpowering force, combined with weariness and a hatred of life. His eyes could not alter the direction of their gaze, for they were held and fascinated by that dark, reproachful glance, as a bird is rendered helpless by the snake. * Got it,' muttered Sinclair. * Got it bad. But it will be good for the boy.' That strange malady, the deer fever, had a firm hold upon Winton. His entire body became seized with violent ague. He trembled with cold, though conscious at the same time that his hands and feet were burning. His quick breath stabbed him with hot gasps. Moisture broke out on his forehead as a horrible vision presented itself to the imagination. He himself was the victim, while the conqueror lay before him. His only chance for life lay in immediate flight, but his feet were chained together and fastened to the ground. He must therefore remain and die. * It's what I looked for,' muttered Sinclair into his beard. Then he came forward across the open space, and picked up the knife. As he bent over the deer, and as the animal resigned its life with a deep sob, the man in the 8 tf^c Sotcef i^ trance revived and gazed blankly, first at the dead creature stretched beside him, then at the grinning face of his companion. 'What in the devil's name have you been up to, Sinclair?' he said stupidly. * Up to, eh ? ' remarked the hunter slowly, with evident enjoyment, as he wiped the knife. 'What are you doing anyhow, lying around there half asleep? Good sort of buck killer you are!' The young man pulled himself up. 'You've been fooling.' ' I'm a clever chap, then. Reckon I could knock you over in that shape? Well, well, to think of a strong young fellow like you being beaten by a harmless sort of half dead beast.' ' You don't say it was the deer ? ' asked the young man, still dazed. The hunter laughed. 'That's what. You had the fever, and as strong as I've ever seen it take a man.' 'Well — that beats all,' said Winton, hanging on each syllable. 'Told you it wasn't well to wound and not kill. Guess you won't fix another for quite a time.' ' How's that? Lots of them around, aren't there?* ' I reckon,' said the other drily. ' Question is whether you'll be able to shoot when you sight one. ' It'll worry you a bit. I'm thinking.' Winton stretched his long limbs. ' It takes me all my time to understand this. Course I've heard of the fever — lots of times, but I didn't put much on hunters' talk — ' ' i I i 'And now you've had it* 'It doesn't last, though?' 'Won't with you, I reckon. I've known some taken with it when they weren't any better than boys, and as they got older it didn't show any wearing off. Whenever they'd start to shoot at a deer, the fever would come up as bad as ever.' 'But it doesn't happen to everyone?' ' I guess it's the exception. I've never had it. Some say it's no bad sign when a young fellow gets knocked over with it. For it's generally men that are good shots who get bothered with the fever. Another thing — if a fellow goes to knife the beast with any sort of pity — you had, I know, for I watched you close — he's gone. You're feeling right again, eh?' The other assented. ' It goes off as quickly as it comes on, anyhow.' 'And leaves a man none the worse,' added the hunter. Then he hastened to change the subject, as he noticed the gradual blackening of the sur- rounding shadows. 'See here, Winton, it's getting sort of late. Alf will be bothering, if we're not back by dark. Suppose you wait here, while I make tracks for the horses ? ' ' There's an hour of daylight yet,' said Winton. ' Let's sit down for a smoke. There's lot of time.' Sinclair glanced round a little uneasily. * Make it half a pipeful, and I don't mind joining you. I'm sort of hungry for a bit of plug. But, I tell you straight, I'm not wanting to hang around here long after sunset.' 10 Winton chuckled. ' My turn now,' he said. ' It's my laugh on you. Why, you're a regular old woman to-day, Sinclair. What's the racket now?' The hunter bit at his moustache. • Well, it's this way — I'm a little scared of the nitchies! 'Pshaw! That's about the tenth time to-day you've shammed fright. Don't see why we should want to bother, just because the breeds 'way down south are painting their faces and making alarm- ing fools of themselves. What's wrong with your courage, Sinclair?' 'That's all right,' said the other sullenly; then paused, while a dim blue flame shot upward from his pipe. He seated himself on the white moss near his companion, then placed a hand upon his knee. 'Tell you, Winton, this rebellion in the Territories is going to be something worth jotting down in a book of history.' 'Don't think much of it,' said the other con- temptuously. ' That's because you don't know the people. I do, because I'm descended from them in a way myself. And I know Riel. Have seen him, spoken to him, more than that — I've fought with him knife to knife before to-day. Nothing's going to stop him, except a chance bullet, or the few yards of rope your countrymen are fond of allowing any poor devil who tries to get the better of them. Give me a match.' Winton complied, while the hunter continued, 'You don't think much of the rebellion, eh? Still there's a pretty thick crowd of half crazy Indians and IX »? (Wenofa0 breeds. Darn me if I know what the opposition consists of.' ' Well, I do,' put in Winton. ' What's the matter with the militia and the police? They're good enough for you.' * Yes, they're first-class bullet stoppers. Fine, targets, with their red coats, for the boys to drive their bullets into. Pshaw ! The soldiers can't begin to save the country. I've not a bit of use for the farmers and settlers. But I allow it can be done, Winton. There's one man — a single man, with an almighty lot of power, who can swamp up the whole rebellion as I'd swallow a dram of whisky. Question is whether he'll do it.' * Who arc you talking of? Not General — ' ' Pshaw ! Not that sneaking coward. The man I'm thinking on is general of the Church, not the army. I reckon, Winton, that Archbishop Tache is the only one who can put a stopper to this rising. What?' 'Well, if that's so, Sinclair, what's it got to do with us 'way up here?' The hunter pulled strongly at his pipe, then spat violently on the moss. * You don't see it, eh ? I'll show you, then. I'm as darned sure as though he'd told me himself that Riel means to stamp the whole crowd of whites clean out of the land. Course he can't be around every place himself, so he just sends round messages all over this country.' * Telling the tribes to rise ? ' * And clean out the whites in their district. They're bound to obey, for they look upon Riel as a sort 12 of nickle-plate god. Besides, they're scared of his vengeance if they refuse and he comes off victorious. They're all dead sure he can't be beaten anyhow.' * You think we shall have some sport round here ? ' asked Winton, lazily. ' I don't know anything for certain ; but it's likely enough.' ' I don't think so. The nitchies around here are not well armed. We should be able to beat them off easily enough if they did attack the fort. Your pipe's gone out' Sinclair leaned forward. ' Give me a match.' Then he continued in a changed tone, ' You wouldn't talk like that if you knew everything. You only see Riel. You don't know a darned thing about anything behind — who's stirring him up, who's supplying the brains to run this rebellion, and all the rest of it. I tell you, I know more than any man living, and when the time comes — by God, I'll use my knowledge.' He drew the match savagely along his breeches, and relighted his pipe. ' You're a lot safer up here than you'd be down in Manitoba.' * I'd like to be back,' said the hunter ; * and I'm going by next boat, whether the hunting's good or bad. I'd no right to leave the wife and children in these bad times. How can I tell what's going on while I'm away up here? If they were all dead and planted, I'd be none the wiser.' Winton stretched himself, accompanying the action with a subdued laugh. •You're a terrible croaker, Sinclair, Why don't 13 r. ■^ i n I ^ (gtenofag you look on the bright side ? It's just as easy, and a lot pleasanter.' The old hunter rose. 'Don't know how it is, Winton, but I feel sort of low-spirited just now.' ' That's something new. What's wrong ? ' 'Uneasy, I guess. Well, I'm off. It'll be dark presently.' He picked up his rifle and prepared to move. * I've no use for fooling around in the forest at this time. It isn't healthy. There's too much mischief drifting up, and a fellow never knows when it's going to break. You'll wait here till I'm up with the horses, eh?' • I'll watch the meat and finish my smoke.' 'That's it Guess you know which way to steer for the fort, eh ? Make north-west till you come to the big fir that the nitchies call the death tree. You can just catch the top of the flagstaff from there, if you get up before the light goes out' ' I know,' said Winton, quietly. * But v/hat are you telling me for ? ' ' So as you'd be all right if we got parted. Wouldn't do for you to get lost in the forest if any- thing happened to me.' ' What in the devil's likely to happen ? ' * Nothing, I reckon. Still, it'j good to keep on the right side. Well, don't fall asleep over your smoke ; keep the rifle handy.' The next minute his spare figure disappeared amongst the bushes. Left to himself, Winton pulled at his pipe and reflected upon the words of his late companion. On ordinary occasions the old hunter was never 14 Zf^e Sorest ^ accustomed to suffer from any such lack of courage, therefore his parting words became the more signifi- cant. Then there was another thing to remember : Sinclair, himself of mixed blood, understood the native character thoroughly. On his own confession, he possessed more knowledge — and that of a secret nature — than most, so after all it might be advisable to attend to his warning. Winton settled his broad back firmly against a tree trunk, and reflected. For a small quarter of an hour he was left to himself in the dreary forest, at a time most productive of sentimental thought — when light was gradually merging into night. This was a solemn time, when a man was induced to think by the nature of his surroundings, and half unconsciously review the action of a past. This young man was, without being aware of it, a type of civilization. He had not much to look back upon. Merely a schoolboy career, in which he had won a reputation of being the finest athlete and the most unprincipled character of his time; a year at Oxford, productive of more laurels, com- bined with disgrace for many a daring escapade; then the crowning act of foolishness, the expulsion, a hurried flight abroad, because he dared not face the wrath of parents, or the sad reproach of a pretty, petted sister; lastly the burying of his identity in a strange land. There were many such characters in the country. At home they were considered superfluous beings of uselessness. Here they were the foundation of a new society, the pioneers of an incoming tide IS ill I ot the stay-at-home of civilization. Such ■»«"- f^^„ t„„ed the successes of the ^^^ofs -have ._^ ^^^^^ ^-"^"? '':!ra:°a W ter^T/afai^a. That ness by scholastic guardians - then ,ound quickly, while the fingers ^^^^^b^red aosed -chanically round *en^^^ a^^^^ ^^^^^^, Sinclair's warning. But no j^^f^,^ his ears, while nothing unusual appear ^y^'- . »nnder whether Sinclair's fear had He began to wonder wn ^^^^^^^ ^^ communicated itsel to him. 1 ^^^^_ excusable, for the &-=* J^^^f;* 3L„ge sounds, lonely it always "^^-f" ,^^ pagination. Solitude works f -6"°^^ , ,„d roamed idly His hand '^^l^^^^l^J^ ,;e fingers came in along the ground ^'^^^ / ^5,^ „as thick and contact with certain matter w ^^^^^^^ ^^ ^"^•^^ '° rhfud and when Ws ey'es fell upon the withdrew the hand, and w ^ ^^^^^p „y ,ed fingers ^e -vo— "^^ „^^, .„3,,„t he of astonishment and fear '"^fhad forgotten the dead animal, which lay "S^M'siSir isn't here,, he muttered. .It 4.^ Viave the smile. ^^tw^'urrerfi'^s upon the white moss. it-home led the in such r. That vicious- cie Eng- a twig \ glanced ght hand nembered -ached his Defore his s fear had .kness was ;ry dark — ae sounds, ination. Darned idly rs came in , thick and shudder he ell upon the L sharp cry :t instant he I, which lay nuttcred. ' It ; white moss, ^0e ^oteei ^ then began to pace up and down, listening anxiously for the tramp of horses, or cheery cry of his returning companion. The minutes fled past in silence. The sun had fallen beneath the black tree line, which fringed the northern shore of the Saskatchewan. Glistening dew was settling softly, while a shadowy presence of evening stirred along the forest. Winton grasped a bunch of foliage ; the leaves were cold and slimy to the touch. * Past the quarter hour. The horses must have strayed, so, like a fool, he's gone after them. I'll give him ten minutes more. If he isn't here then, I shall make tracks before the darkness gets any thicker.' Ah ! That sound was no work of the imagination. He wheeled round sharply, with ready rifle to his shoulder. The sharp rustling of parting bushes brought the heart to his mouth. But he saw nothing. Then a branch waved ominously, and he felt it was not caused by the wind. He strained his eyes to pierce the gloom which surrounded the mass of interlacing boughs. Surely that was a dusky face of one who had sworn destruction to his race. Fierce eyes of hatred were glaring upon him ; a mouth was set in thin line of determination ; hands were raised, perhaps preparing to point a heavily charged muzzle- loader; he was the object of that aim. Sinclair's words came back, as he sprang aside in a bath of fear. His one idea just then was immediate escape. Once he slipped in the thickening blood, B ■ f- iti! I I i I "suit r— Ttt" swept upon Ms face. there was a loud, vibratjng 7"J*;j ^^ ^^^^^^^ For a second, the darkness round _^_^ ^^^^ in a red glow. That I-'- f-%;;,„,a ^,„„g, ,,3 ^HlldVrS-^."'^-''"'^^-*'^'""^'^^^^^ his body. ^ d ssed through his He was sho . The char e ^^^^^P ^^^^^ ^,„^^,„ chest, and ^h^ blo"^; ^^ ^,,,^1 So he staggered The wound might not D ^^^^^ ^^ ^ forward, every -- ^^^^^^ ,» , branch, which second report. He ^^^^^^ ^^^ ^eat- swayed up and down re^"«=^'y- , he seemed ing furiously, h. bram ^ ^ suddenness, to grow no weaker. Then^ ,„„ounding bush, there came to h--. °- ^*'„^„ ,„ pain, followed the gasping cry- he vo'" o ''^rrw^"eC-d^een uttered by his hunter friend. ^^^„ go he was This brought ■«" h^'^ ;^^,.^ ^,, It would be not shot after all ; M ^n^ ^,^^.„g ,„„„d his turn now. The dark enem ^^.^^ j^^^^_ him to complete the.r work. The ^^ ^ ^^^^ '"^ '" '^^^:: ttuTsm^ll bushes towards the body crashing tnrou^n ground of which it was then par.^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^„,, Should he go bacU m the d ^ ^^ ^ jj^_ rrror^urCre with threatening i surged lo work 3Ugh his ed along ough Ws ugglshly. staggered 3ck of a ch, which ; was beat- tie seemed uddenness, ding bush, [n, followed So he was It would be osing round IS still beat- d of a shot towards the f that sound ? corpse ? Be- m^ threatening voices and vengeful faces. There was hostile move- ment everywhere along the dark, awful forest. Then these noises increased tenfold and rose louder. A panting, mad struggling, a furious crashing, with 5^parks shooting upward from rugged stones, bridle reins flying and catching, while before sped a mist of smoky breath. Such was the vision of the grey monster, which loomed suddenly from the darkness and stumbled heavily almost at his feet. It was the grey mare he had ridden that day. But where was the dark horse, and where was Sinclair? Dead, and in that death lay the most convincing proof of the truth of the last word he had spoken. Goaded by fear and the desperation of the moment, he had sprung forward. He was mounted, and dash- ing furiously through the forest, ignorant of direc- tion, feeling only the great and terrible fear of the pursued. Branches cut and bruised his face ; small twigs bent and lashed him angrily ; the night wind hissed with menace upon his ears; while behind, around, in front, the great forest shrieked and raved. Onward crashed the horse, the white breath streaming away, the flecks of foam dashing to each side. He bent down and shrank together, his single idea being to present as small a target as possible. Every second he expected to hear the crash of muzzle- loaders, to hear the screech of shot, to feel the sharp sting of lead in his back. Still on, heading he knew not where in that terrible fright. Sparkling dew dashed off the leaves ; long bushes streamed past his legs ; red sparks shot madly upward from the iron-black rocks beneath. 19 IP- 1 »-*-•— Jt*- ii CHAPTER I! MENOTAH-HEART THAT KNOWS NOT SORROW i { Ne-HA-HAH ! Drip, flash, gurgle, Down from rock to rock — splash, tinkle — soft, softer, with a long, peaceful swirl of bubbles, as the lone rushes by the bank shivered again. With a gleam beneath a danc- ing ray of sunlight, with a beauty spot of white foam here and there. Min-ne-ha-hah ! Splash, drip-drip — splash ! Then a quickening run of black and silver bars, a long, golden line of light — with a bright singing voice, and with a peal of music like the chime of distant bells. Ne-ha-hah ! The place of the laughing waters. Here the sun quivered for colour music, while wind and water met and kissed with the whispering caress of an ever endless song. First came the wind, with deep, long sigh through the bushes, then the sunlight. After this overture, one might listen to the melody of the waters. ' Ne-pink, ink-ink-ah. Min-ne-sot-ah-hah. Ha-hah- ne-ah-ah ! Ne-ha-hah-ah ! Pink-ink-ink. Ne-pink. Ne-ah. Nepink-ah-hah. Min-ha! Ne-ah-ink-ink. Min-ne-ha-ink-ink ! Ne-sot-ah ! So-tah. So-tah- ha-hah-ah! Min-ne-ha. Pink-ink-ink. Ne-ah I ao (Stenofa^ ^ IROW )m rock a long, s by the \ a danc- lite foam drip-drip lack and 1 a bright like the e the sun water met )f an ever deep, long ^ht. After melody of h. Ha-hah- Ne-pink. ah-ink-ink. h. So-tah- k. Ne-ah I Pink-ink-ink. Ne-ha! Ne-hah! Ne-ha! Ne-sot- ahl Ne-ha-hah-ha! Ne-ha-hah! Ah I Hah!' Then the wind swelled louder for the great word- less opera. The sunrays grew whiter and stronger to light up the great rugged stage of Nature. There was a mighty slab of black rock, which the waves lapped listlessly, at one side of the river pool. This appeared to shoot straight from the heart of the forest — part bathed by the water, part shielded and hidden by a tangle of bushes. To a pendulous branch, projecting over the black stone, had been attached a coloured streamer of cloth, which rose and fell gaily with the wind, like the guiding beat of a conductor's b^ton. Then the voice of Nature was broken into, yet not disturbed, again. A clear, thrilling cry came from the forest, the careless, happy cry of a young life. 'There will be full moon to-night, and a south wind. Then the evil one will steal from the marshes, for there will be war and fire. War and Fire!' That same voice again, but now the speaker was nearer and approaching. In such a place, at such a time, it might almost have been Wasayap on her way to meet the Heelhi-Manitou at the Passing Place of the Spirits. The music of the waters swelled a little higher into a louder, purer burst of melody. The depart- ing sun streamed slantingly across the so-far empty stage, where a few white grass stems shivered. 'Min-ne-ha! Pink-ink-ink. Ne-ha! Min-ne-ha. 21 ii ^ (fflenofgg Nc-ha ! Ne-hah ! Nc-ha ! Nc-sot-ah ! Nc-ha-hah- ha! Ne-ha-hah! Nc-ha! Ah! Hah!' The clinging bushes hung around find above with- out motion. Suddenly they parted, with quick swish and rapid rustling of leaves, and the next moment appeared a wonderful vision. *Men-ha! Ot-ah I Me-e-e-e-ot-ah. Ah-ha I Ha-hah-ha-ah ! Me-ot-hah. Ot-ah! Ah-ah-ah ! Ot-ah! Ot-ah! Ah-hah! Meii-ot-ah ! Ot-ah! Menotah ! ' With a noisy, petulant fluttering of foliage the buislies sprang back to their former position. The vision finally resolved itself into human form and shape, as it sprang down to the rock with the agile bound of a young deer. Then the waters smiled into the laughing face of a young and lovely girl. With a soft, gurgling laughter, suggestive of sheer happiness and exuberance of life, she deftly balanced her dainty body upon one tiny foot, then, with quick clutch, snatched at and captured the overhan^* g bough, which bent itself barely within reach of hex' hand. When she had pulled this to a level with her forehead, she swung herself airily backwards and forwards, her feet softly caressing the hard rock with the Vating motions of a gentle dance. She had thrown her head well back, and thus revealed the delicate moulding of her velvet neck ; her long hair was rippling unbound along the bright rays of intermittent sunshine ; the liquid song-notes of a native ditty trilled from her red, smiling lips. She was admirable ; she was perfect ; she was adorable. 22 (UtenofoJ 5o Her skin was dark, yet by no means swarthy. Soft and delicate in its purity, she resembled more the refined Creole than an Indian girl of the forest. Ilcr dress, which reached a little below the knees, was of a coarse material dyed red, while her arms and feet were bare, or, rather, clothed in their own perfect beauty. Entwined round her temples, twisted in careless profusion through the cloud of her flow- ing hair, wound a festoon of emerald leaves and glowing berries, snatched from some forest bush as she sped lighthcartedly amongst the trees. Radiant as were these berries, Nature had not painted them with the rich scarlet of Mcnotah's cheeks, nor with the deep carmine of -her parted lips, through which came the pearly glitter of the teeth. And above, the dark eyes flashed and shone, spreading the happy contagion of mirth as they passed, with the hover- ing action of the swallow, from one object to another. So, unconscious of evil, injensible to suffering, she swung herself from side to side upon the black rock, while her face shone with rapture, like the laughing water which bubbled beneath her feet. The sun dropped down to the uneven line of a long ridge opposite, while a fine glow shot into the sky. Again she swung on tiptoe, and sang in a clear voice a sweet voice with a thrill in it that sounded through the forest and over the water, light and sparkling as the tinkling of raindrops upon the leaves. In her youthful, ignorant passion she sang to the Spirit for understanding of life, for knowledge of 23 i I M |:i human secrets, for unending joy and eternal love in the years to come, while the wind and the water played her a wonderful accompaniment. She stopped suddenly, with a musical cry of sheer happiness, then sprang, lithe and supple as a squirrel, from the higher ridge of the rock, in mid-air releas- ing her grasp of the branch. Upward it darted, with the force of a steel spring, striking down upon the dark tresses a shower of brown fir spines with many small green cones. Lightly as a snowflake the girl came to the lower platform of stone, which lay almost at a level with the water. Her step was sure, for her young limbs were strong and yielding. She made a dancing step ; cast her arms delightedly above her head, accompany- ing the action with a merry burst of laughter ; passed two shapely hands beneath a dark mist of hair, which had streamed forward over her face, and threw it back with a graceful gesture. She gazed around and upward, finally fixing her eyes upon the branch she had lately clung to. It seemed as though she searched for something not at once discernible Presently she clasped her hands together with a short cry of pleasure. 'The Spirit is pleased,' she cried, with a sudden or tch to her rich voice. ' I am always to be beauti- ful ; I am always to be happy. The Spirit himself has waited here to tell me.' For the coloured steamer had disappeared. Prob- ably it had been shaken away to the neighbouring bushes, when the bough had sprung back into posi- tion ; perhaps it had then been unsecured and the wind 34 V^ ( fflenofag 5> had since removed It. At all events it had vanished, and this knowledge brought her happiness.* She paused for awhile, as though in thought. Her soft forehead fell into little, curved lines, while the beautiful face grew grave. * It might have been the wind,' she said doubtfully, speaking slowly to the rippling waters, * but, if it was, the wind is a spirit — yes, a good spirit. Now he has spoken to me. I am beautiful, and I shall be happy.' A dull roar from the distant rapids beat down ominously along the evening wind. With the wind that bore the sound came a wave, which broke itself against the black rock, casting a tiny cloud of spray upward. The girl's face altered its expression at once. The thought lines vanished, while others appeared to bend round her mouth in the shape of a smile. * Beautiful,' she murmured, alone, yet half bashful ; * the water has told me so often, and now it calls me again.' She inclined her head forward, while the smile deepened. * Listen ! ' The waters splashed, rippled, flashed, swung round in a long gurgling eddy, then splashed again. Out of this rose a low, musical tinkle, with a soft lap-lap upon the rocks which sounded like a kiss. * Yes. That was a name. Listen ! There it comes again — Menotah ! Heart that knows not sorrow.' She timidly came to the extreme edge, then fell to her knees. As the sun disappeared behind the grey- * It is a native custom thus to hang streamers to some bush after a prayer. The disappearance of such is a sign that the Spirit is pleased and will grant the desired favour. ^ (Jtlenofa^ I li dark ledge opposite, she bent her dainty head over and down, until the long black hair divided and fell in two glossy strands, the ends of which floated like seaweed upon the foam patches. The river pool commenced to blacken, while flower- ing rushes tossed their shivering heads and murmured. The Spirit of the waters called her. So she leant over — down, nearer, closer, until her fingers curved over the stone amid the moisture and green slime. For a moment or so she was motionless, in a set posture of watching and wonder. Then, with the darting action of a bird, she was up to the higher ridge of rock with a single bound. Another spring, and she was upon the grass track at the side. An invisible frog awoke his water-side orchestra into sharp chirpings with a gruff note. It was time for her to desert the quiet river pool, for evening was pressing down, and there was much on hand. But, as she was about to flit away, a guttural cry proceeded from the bush behind, while the stroke of a thick staff tapped fretfully upon the rock platform she had recently abandoned. Casting a glance back over her shoulder, she perceived an old man, with long hair and scrubby white beard, emerging from the bushes. ' So, I have come upon you, child. I have found you at length.' Such was the manner of his greeting. She turned back, and placed a curling foot upon a point of stone. ' And what has led your footsteps into the forest, wise Antoine ? ' she asked lightly. 'You, child — you.' He spoke slowly. ' What 1 You wish to borrow my eyes ? You 26 nofa^ QJtenofa^ ^ id over md fell ed like flower- rmured. int over ed over n a set dth the ; higher spring, de. An tra into time for ing was ural cry itroke of platform nee back an, with ng from ve found greeting. Dot upon footsteps htly. 5 ? You have come forth to pluck berries and gather strong medicines. Come ! I will help you.' The old man fixed his keen eyes upon her laughing face, then drew his coarse blanket of a gaudy yellow more conveniently over his shoulders. Then he came forward and said, * Girl, I have been seeking you for long. I watched you dart like a sunbeam into the forest, so I followed with my slow speed to give you warning.' She tossed back her head. * Warn me ! Of what, and why ? ' * The white man,' said the other impressively. * He is abroad in the forest. From this time he is our foe. Perchance one might meet you in such a spot as this, and—' She interrupted him scornfully, with a proud move- ment of her head. * Let him find me. I am stronger than any man, since I can disarm him with a woman's weapons.' The old man raised a reproving hand. ' You speak, Menotah, with the folly of youth. Now will I answer you with the wisdom of age. For who are you that you should know the cunning of the white man ? He feels not the emotion of love, for his heart is made of ice, while his dark mind changes as the waters of yon river. Mayhap you might be captured by him. Then, what darkness would settle upon the tribe without its heart of joy ? There would be no music in the song, nor passion in the dance.' The girl laughed with a long musical burst of happines.s. * Child 1 I have warned you. Listen to an old 27 I 1^ ^ (fflenofgg man's words. Follow his advice, and keep the heart to yourself.* For answer, Menotah snatched a long tendril of bright green from a neighbouring bush. She cast this wreath around the old man's neck, then danced back, clapping her hands in delight. * Now you are young again,' she cried joyously. * You are to forget that the frost of age has ever stiffened your limbs. You must now cast aside all your wise sayings, which always fall like cold water upon my ears. Come ! Take me by the hand. Then we will wander forth together. If you are mournful, I will sing to you. I will dance and laugh, that you may forget your infirmities. For where I come, sorrow may never be found.' The red glow on her cheeks deepened, as the light in her eyes leapt into a flame. The ruddy berries dropped over her temples and kissed the eyelids when she stirred. But the old man only shook his white head, and gave back no reply. Then Menotah stepped to his side, and bent her graceful figure down. She held her face near his, while the soft mouth twitched in the effort to restrain its mirth. ' Wise Antoine,' she said, with an attempt at carelessness. ' You have travelled over much land and water. You have seen many people. Is it not so ? Wonderingly he replied, ' It is so, my daughter.' ' Then tell me ' — and there was a slight tremor in her voice — 'since you have seen so many women, 28 of ( fflenofg^ §^ tell me, have you ever looked upon one more beauti- ful than I ? Have you seen any more perfect ? — more graceful ? ' Her face was quite solemn as she finished her question. The old man frowned, and pulled at the falling blanket with a claw-like hand. At length he spoke. * It is true that I have seen many women. I have looked upon the daughters of white men, and some of these are fair. I have watched, also, generations of my own people, as they passed from childhood to maturity, growing and ripening like green berries in the sunshine. Many of these were very good to look upon.' * But I — ' sue murmured, and then stopped short. The old Antoine smiled feebly, displaying a perfect row of teeth. Then he would have turned aside, but she touched him with light, eager hand. * I stopped your words, old father. What more had you to say ? ' ' Let us go back,' he said. ' See ! the night comes upon us.' But Menotah only laughed again, while the roar of the great rapids beat down upon their ears with sound of sombre menace. She bent her beautiful head over his shoulder, and asked, 'The daughters of the white men are fair — you have said so ? ' ' But you are more beautiful than all,' broke forth the old man, half fiercely. ' Surely. None, on whom my eyes have rested, have owned such flow of life, such health, such gladness of spirit. These 39 M ^ (fflenofag things are beauty. You are as straight as a youn^; fir, and as fair as the evening star.' In an instant her assumed gravity had disappeared. Laughing merrily, she darted back, with black hair streaming cloud-like behind. But the old man pursued her with a searching question, — ' Child ! Menotah ! What dream spirit has whispered into your brain, as you slept beneath the moon r What is that which has told your mind that you were more beautiful than others — that you were even fair at all ? You have learnt frc j me, yet on such matters have I given you no knowledge.' Menotah was singing gaily, unconcernedly, and for the time appeared not to notice his quick question- ings. But suddenly she sprang aside to the bushes, and parted them with eager hands. Then she glanced back, and commenced to chant in loud, distinct tones, — ' Old father, you have taught me much, yet, being a man, you might not read a woman's heart. You could not tell her all — not that she wished especially to learn. So she has searched for that knowledge wher- ever it might be found. Behold ! she has succeeded.' The Ancient would have spoken aloud in wonder, but the bright girl gave him no opportunity. ' One day, near the setting of the sun, I came along this way. The river-pool was already growing black, while long rushes bent and murmured when they saw me a~ >roach. Then, when I stood upon the black rock, I heard the echo of a soft voice, which arose in music at my feet, and crept up until it touched my ears. So I knew that it was the Spirit of the waters 30 '®lenofa^ 5<^ who was calling me. And he had knowledge for my ear, and mine alone. Do you still hear the soft voice calling beneath us, old father?' She raised her dainty figure, then uplifted a smaH hand, inclining her head forward with a graceful gesture. The waters lapped and whispered against the slime-green base of the rock. •Men-ha! Ot-ah! Me-e-e-e-ot-ah. Ah-ha! Ha- hah-ha-ah! Me-ot-hah. Ot-ah! Ah-ah-ah ! Ot- ah! Ot-ah! Ah-hah! Men-ot-ah! Ot-ah! ^Tenotah ! ' ' Do you hear, old father ? ' she cried joyfully. 'Can you hear the voice of the laughing waters? Each night they call me, and bid mc come.' Then the old man frowned, and raised a crooked hand to point upward over the rock-ledge opposite, where a cold ray of white light struggled through shadows. ' Hear also the voice of the great rapids, daughter. They shout, and they call, also. Would you hasten to their bidding ? ' She shuddered slightly, then replied, * Not so, old father. I would not obey the summons to death and silence.' Antoine shivered also, as the nigh* chilled his body. 'We tarry past th'.- sun-setting,' he muttered. ' It is not well to be abroad at this time.' * Ah ! But listen first,' she pleaded. ' Here what the Spirit of the water had to show me.' . Again he paused, while she wrapped the cold bushes round her waist, and bathed her fingers in the dew-wet foliage. Then she spoke, — 3i I I li y ^ fflenota$ ' 1 came onward to the rock-brink, yet I trembled. For I feared lest the Spirit might stretch forth an angry arm to draw me down, and claim me as his victim. * So I came with hesitating footstep, and leant with hidden dread over the great stones, whereon the brown reeds beat their flowering heads. I looked, yet saw nothing, but the drifting clouds and bright pictures of evening sunset, for the waters swirled and bubbled, as though in anger. Aj^ain I looked, but there was still nothing, save the shadow of the bright sky. * But then a dim mist formed slowly and rose with gradual motions from the bottom. As it came nearer it gathered together, and took a wonderful shape, while my heart beat loudly as it rose to the surface, which was now calm and smooth, for the white foam and curling ripples had fled beneath the rock. And as I bent down — lower — nearer, until the ends of my unbound hair kissed the face of the waters, that shadow lay upon the surface, and held its lips up to mine. ' Then I looked upon a being of beauty. There was a maiden, with eager, parted lips which were curved into a smile. I saw also eyes, happy but determined, and thick waves of hair enclosing a blameless face. At the pleasure of beholding so much beauty I smiled. And, behold ! the vision smiled also, while the waters broke into ripples of silent laughter. Then I frowned, creasing up my forehead into long wrinkles, and forthwith the waters moaned with storm brealh, while sunshine departed from the 32 valley. So then I laughed aloud, bringing again joy to the Spirit, with adornment to the face of the waters. ' For I knew that I was beautiful — beautiful — beautiful ! * She bent her happy face forward, with a small shake of the head at each repetition of her final word. Then she liberated the bushes. They closed behind, and she vanished. But her happy song was still borne through the forest as she glided, bird-like, amongst the trees. The Ancient was left again to himself He pulled the blanket over his scanty white locks with weak motions, while his thin lips parted in unspoken words. His deeply furrowed face was pinched and frowning. Then he turned, also, and went his way. e ;.! : i' i I. ■! CHAPTER 111 THE BUDDING OF A PAS5I0N Nearer the outskirts of the mighty forest, where between the tree trunks might be caught, when the bushes sometimes parted beneath a sh'ght gust of wind, a silvery flash of the sun-kissed river, two men stood side by side in earnest conference. Very dissimilar were they in every particular, save in the one important distinction of race. One was much bent by time's heavy hand ; the other enjoyed the full vigour of early manhood. This latter was tall and finely shaped ; his arms were like strong wire ropes, and swelled with blue muscles as he moved with the unconscious animal grace of the native ; his dark-skinned face was clearly cut and set in firm lines of determination, while the keen eyes flaohed and the nostrils ex- panded as he listened to the words of the shrunk figure at his side and gave him back reply. They were completely alone in this great solitude. Close behind there spread a thick tangle of bush, which gradually merged into the dark forest line, a luxuriant growth, which might readily have con- cealed many an invisible foe. But these men had 34 €^c O ^ubbtng of g (paseton §<► no fear of their own, and as for the hostile white — well, there were but very few of them, and these harmless, since they could not be suspicious of approaching danger. The old man slowly turned himself from the glowing face of the setting sun, and raised his wrinkled countenance heavily towards the power- ful features of the young warrior. His cheeks were thickly painted with a lurid stain of carmine ; the effect of the unnatural colour upon the dried up flesh was ghastly to an extreme. His form was doubled together almost by infirmity and time, for the weight of over four score years was pressing him down to the grave. He extended and spread an almost fleshless hand upon the warm flesh of the other's rounded arm. ' You have finished all preparations, Muskwah ? The young men are now ready, and each has weapons for the fight ? ' ' All that I can accomplish as leader of your children has been done, Father.' The old man was chief of the tribe and there- fore regarded as the titular father of all. * But the warriors understand their duties Muskwah? I would have no sad scene of women lamenting in the encampment. I would not listen to the low chanting of death songs.' ' I have done your bidding, Father. I have made all things clear,' replied the young man. * There has been nothing left undone, Muskwah ? I am old, and have often seen the brave conquered, not by greater strength or skill, but by the thing 35 Iil ! n! 1 ^ (fflenotgg unlocked for, the one thing forgotten. This is that which causes the defeat of the brave. Tell me now the words the wise Antoine spoke into your ears. Repeat to me the orders you have given to my children.' He wrapped the cloak round him and bent again in close attitude of listening. The wind whispered in che pines behind, while the sun went out and the colours slowly faded into greyness. Then the young warrior cast out his long arms, drew his figure to its greatest height, and in clear, sonorous voice declaimed aloud the following spirited apostrophe, — ' Warriors I O, Warriors ! ' Ye, who are brave, ye, who have earned the glad approval of women, draw round me, and listen to the words of your Father and Chief. * The Spirit has whispered into his ear, " Destroy now the white men, for they are wrong-minded and have offended me. Cast them forth from this my land in death." Your Father and Chief will obey the great command of the Spirit, lest black sickness come upon the tribe, lest the hunters be caused to return empty-handed to the tents. * Warriors ! O, Warriors ! ' Ye, who speed forth with the great strength of the winds, ye, who dart over earth like shadows when the moon shines, listen to the voice of your leader. When the night light casts silver upon the fir tops, and the spirits crawl from the marshes to their deeds, ye shall be ready and await my signal. Then shall ye hear thrice repeated the cry of a horned owl. When the last echc has died, gather ye yourselves round the sad 36 i Z^t Qgubbtng of a (paeeion 5^ death tree, where yc shall find me awaiting, and there will I separate ye into two bands. Those who are young and strong upon their feet shall descend the valley along by the way of the river-pool, and these shall wait at the foot of the cliff beneath the fort of the white men. And at the sound of the first report of a gun, ye shall ascend, each man bearing dry branches of the fir. These shall ye place around the walls at the cliff side and apply the fire. And, as for the other band, these shall advance with stealth upon the open and hide behind the rocks. When the red fire shoots upward, ye shall fire upon the door. Then will the white men come forth, driven out by the hot fire behind, and when they appear they must be killed, nor must one escape to carry away the deed. For the white man knows not how to pardon ' Warriors ! O, Warriors ! ' Ye, who fly over the ground with the swiftness of deer, ye, who laugh with joy when the hot blood flows, listen to the words of the Spirit. ' Destroy and spare not. Avenge, as ye have been wronged. Spare not your strength. Lose not your courage. And while ye fight, the women around the tents will dance, and call upon the Ghosts and Skeletons of the tribe. Then, also, will the Father's daughter come forth to greet ye with a smile, when ye return, laden with victory and the glad spoils of war. * Warriors ! O, Warriors I • Ye, who are brave, ye, who have earned the approval of women, heed and obey the words of your Father and Chief.' 37 i i n \i ^ ( fflenofgg The young warrior paused and lowered his arms, while the fire in his eyes died out. A feeble im- pulse of passion spread its f over the Chief's half dead face as he listened with rapt attention to the recital. Then he spoke in his thin voice, — ' 'Tis good, Muskwah. You have spoken well. Tell me now, are the hearts of my children full of a warm courage? Do their eager hands reach out for their weapons ? Dc their eyes gleam with thoughts of slaughter anci vengeance? lic-e tney well oiled the body and painted the face? Are they withal hard to restrain, like our dogs on the clear day of winter ? Is it so, Muskwah ? ' The young warrior's brow grew sterner as he shook his head. ' Nay, Father, 'tis not so. The courage of the young men is faint. This is what they spoke in my ear, "What calls us to the fight? At this place the white men have done us no wrong — " ' ' False, Muskwah ! ' cried the old man shrilly. 'They have robbed us.' ' Only the old Antoine thirsts for the blood of the invaders,' said the other quietly. The Chief struck his staff in anger upon the ground. * The young men know not all. Did you not remind them, Muskwah, how the base white man has deprived us of our land and food ? ' 'And their answer still comes, Father, that here we have been deprived of naught. The hunters take their skins, and the wives carry oil to the fort. In return they bring back to the tents food for the body, with tobacco and clothing.' 38 Z^e Qgub^tng of a ({}ag6ion 5^ well, ull of h out with : tney ; they clear * There are others, Muskwah,' pursued the old man solemnly. * There are many of our brothers far across the great water. These have suffered to the bitterness of death, and their wrongs still lie unavenged.' ' This did I tell to the young men,' continued the warrior. ' They listened to my words, but still replied, " We know none of these. If they have been wronged, let them look to their own. When they rejoice, what part do they offer us in their joy ? Now that they have cause for grief, what duty calls us to take part in their voice of mourning ? " There is wisdom in the words of the young men. Father.' The old man but turned at him angrily. 'There is also rebellion,' he cried, with fierceness. ' It is their duty to obey, and not seek a cause. Tell them, Muskwah, make known to each one of them, that he who shrinks from the battle, let the cause be what it may, that man shall be beaten openly by the women of the camp. I have said it.' Muskwah bowed his stately head, but replied in defence of his underlings. * There are no cowards among the Children of the River, my Father. Their wish is only for no strife with those who have done them no wrong.' The Chief cast his bleared eyes round suspiciously, and finally rested them on the tall figure at his side. ' But you, Muskwah, what are your inner thoughts ? ' * I obey my Father,' came the instant reply. * It is not for me to reason.' The Chief was satisfied. * Obedience is a sure footway to power,' he muttered. He tore apart his 39 ;ig 1,^ ?: iHil i 'Jn. shirt with tremulous fingers, to display many a long black scar crawling across his brown chest. 'See, Muskwah. Obedience gave me these life marks. Still I obeyed, until that same gift made me Chief of my tribe.' The young man listened, while the shadow of solicitude gathered slowly upon his face. Presently he exclaimed his thoughts aloud. ' Is it well to thus provoke the wrath of the white man ? Should we not rather dwell ourselves in peace, and leave those who have suffered to carry out the work of vengeance ? ' The doubts thus expressed aroused the old man, and his answering voice rang forth loudly, — ' Has the foolishness of my other children touched your brain also, Muskwah? What did the old Antoine tell you beneath the quiet of the tent, when the moon was young. Have you no memory for that story? A man came across the great water,* up the river, and along the forest trail, to pause at our encampment with a solemn message. He commanded me, in the name of the friend of the Great Spirit, to allack the white men who dwelt in our land, and to destroy them all. How should I refuse to listen to the command of Riel ? For when he has conquered the white men and made himself great chief, he will turn to the punishment of those who have refused to listen to his words. To such he will show no forgiveness nor pity.' The young warrior stirred his limbs with a mute gesture of resignation. * I-ake Winnipeg. 40 gge Q^u^bing of g (pftsgion §^ mute • If the Father of the tribe says to us, " Fight," surely we will strive until the enemy is swept away, or our own feet have been tripped up by death. Yet methinks the storm will arise when the battle is past. For then must we face either the vengeance of Riel, or the fury of the white men. But now is there little boldness in the minds of the young men, for their hearts have not been warmed by the song, nor has passion been thrust into each limb by the madness of the dance.' •True — 'tis true,* muttered the Chief, regretfully. * There has been no dance of the Ghosts. Yet will the Spirit not for that desert us. The shrill cries of warriors, as they leapt along the measured circle, and the loud beating of music must surely have warned the white men. Then would they have made them- selves ready for fight, and perchance have escaped or defeated our efforts. Our prayers to the Spirit must ascend in silence, until the fight is over, and victory comes to the Children of the River.' At the last words Muskwah picked up his antique gun, and placed it in the crook of his left arm. Then he pointed ahead with steady brown fingers. 'The light of the sun has sunk beneath yonder tree tops. The night comes. Shall we not return ? ' The Chief gave no heed to the remark. He but fastened his sunk eyes upon a bunch of dead leaves which rattled in the wind. Suddenly he spoke abruptly, and with forehead creased up in a frown, as he put a question which touched his heart closely, — 4t I I m 10 UK * Hast seen the heart of joy, Muskwah, since the sun crossed the centre of the heaven ? ' The young warrior shifted with an awkward motion before replying. ' Nay, Father. These eyes have not rested upon her beauty sin c the drying of the dew. Perchance she wanders in the forest.' * Too often is she absent,' said the old man fret- fully. * She passes from place to place like a bright ray of sunlight, and none may stay her. Often does she forget me and my needs ; yet I cannot speak to her in the voice of anger. Dost Lhink her fair, Muskwah ? ' The question came with unexpecteu suddenness. For a time the young man's quick breathing was plainly audible. * Father I ' he cried at length passionately, ' what am I, that you should ask me whether the heart of joy is beautiful ? Surely there is none made of the spirit to compare with her. There is no flower on the earth, nor star in the night sky, ♦^hat is so beauteous. And when she speaks, a ma may hear the laughing of waters. Which is he o the tribe, who would not give life to save Me. tah from sorrow, or win from her a smile? When she is happy, all the Children of the River rejoice ; should she see the shadow of grief, then shall not be found a glad eye or a light heart.' He paused and panted, while his sinewy chest rose and fell. The Chief watched him from beneath shaggy grey eyebrows. ' So, Muskwah,' he muttered slowly, as though in thought, ' the passion flame has burnt your 42 ce the 'kward e eyes ^/•ing of .n fret- bright m does peak to er fair, lenness. ng was , * what heart of ; of the >wer on is so ay hear le tribe, h from she is should )e found y chest gy grey Dwly, as rnt your ^ge O^ub^ing of a ^ftsgton ^ heart also. A man may not so speak, when the cause moving him is but some idle fancy of the mind. What, Muskwah, is there more to tell? Has she cast the glance of favour towards you? Has she ever smiled upon you a^ she came across your way ? Has she dwelt upon her pleasure, when you have done the service of her wish ? ' The young warrior sought in vain for words with which to fashion reply. But the old Chief laughed aloud with the feeble sounds of age, and spoke further with many a sidelong glance, ' Closely have I watched you, until I came to understand the hidden secrets of your mind. You would be chief after me. I know it. But first must you win scars and spill the blood of your foes, that all may learn to fear the utterance of your name. Higher still does the ambition of the heart lead you, for you seek to make the fair heart of joy a bride. Who may speak on the future, Mu^ikwah, and learn that which lies in the beyond? What gifts the Great Spirit may stretch towards us in his clenched hands we may not know. Yet you are young, and much lies in front. For me all is behind, save a few poor shadows.' Muskwah would have spoken, but the old man drew away with the uncertain motions of weak age. ' The night comes upon us,' he said, as he drew the coarse blanket to his chin. ' There is toil ahead, and we must make ready.' Leaning heavily upon his staff, the aged Chief advanced slowly along the sinuous trail, while in his footsteps came the young warrior with head erect. 43 »• ! ' ^ (gtenofgg ; ■ J I ! Hi m III There was that within him which words might not express, so his heart beat wildly with the hot passion of his years, while it seemed to him good to live. So they both passed on, the young and the old, until the evening shadows closed round them at the point ahead. But the solitude was soon to be again invaded. Scarcely had the two natives disappeared, when the green tangle of dew-besprinkled bush in front of which they had made their stand became suddenly agitated, as though some imprisoned animal held therein, then sought to free itself. Presently the long sweeping tendrils lifted, small scrub bushes parted with a sharp hissing of leaves through the air, while the next instant a young man — he who had listened earlier to the musical voice ringing through the forest — came forward and stood alone in the open. He stretched his well-formed limbs and smiled in a self-satisfied manner. Then he bent, groped among the thick undergrowth, and finally extracted a rifle from the bush. Quickly he glanced along the sights, passed the sleeve of his coat along the dark barrel to remove a slight smear, afterwards looking up again, along the dim trail that wound round towards the distant point, where the wreathing smoke of the camp fires lingered. Then he laughed softly to himself, and spoke aloud, addressing the weapon which his white fingers caressed lovingly. 'Good business that, though those rascals kept 44 spoke fingers kept tge Qgu^^tng of a (paeeion 5i^ me tied in an aching knot longer than I'd bargained. So they're going to make a raid on the fort to-night, are they. Bien ! Let them come. It's going to be a fine, clear night, with full moon into the bargain. Lucky stroke for me— I can now redeem part of my lost character. As usual, I go to the best side.' He laughed again. 'I reckon it might surprise them to know who has overheard their plans. The best shot L; the Dominion — likely enough, in the world. It's something to boast of, having escaped the white chief's aim.' Then the smile disappeared, as memory stirred within, and he frowned. At once a deep line broke along each side of his face, running past the corners of the mouth to wander away indefinitely along the chin. During that moment the finely-cut features wore a hard and ill-favoured look, which disappeared in an instant when the lips were again parted. He flicked away a savage and belated bull-dog, which had settled upon his hand. * I've scored another point,' he muttered complacently. 'My friends, who ure few, have combined with my foes, who are many, to swear that it's impossible to play the spy on a nitchi. Bah ! it's as easy as hating. What if those two had turned me out? The old man was no better than a child. The other would have dropped for the coyotes before he could have stirred a finger.' The rising darkness reminded him of duty to be performed. He fastened his coat and pulled the felt hat down over his forehead. ' And now for the fort ; I've a good enough passport now.' 45 ^ (fflenofg^ I . ■ I :r' ' ■r ;fNff/ M He waved his hand h'^^htly in the direction of distant fir tops, where many branches had been lopped away, where many long shadows formed and hung. Then he prepared to depart, with the know- ledge of such importance which had unwittingly been imparted to him. One step away he made, then his foot halted, as the whispering sound of a quick footstep came from behind through the bush. His senses were very keen. Round he started like a well-drilled soldier, with a hand to his side. But the next instant the fingers released their sure grip on the revolver which lay there concealed. He started, with a sudden exclamation, as his eyes fell upon the outer fringe of the forest, then stood again motionless. For here surely — he felt it instinctively — was the author of that happy passing voice. Standing opposite him in the dim light, and at no great distance, appeared the vision of a perfectly beautiful girl. She was bareheaded — indeed, she required no artificial covering to that wealth of hair, which flowed in luxuriant masses down her back and trailed in confused tresses over her dainty shoulders. A long wreath of red berries shone jewel- like from the thick of these black coils. She stood there, for the time, scarce without motion. Her shapely head was tilted slightly back, as though soliciting a caress; two radiant eyes flashed across to those of the young man a bold challenge of love ; a pair of red lips were divinely parted in a smile, half mischief, half passion, beneath which lurked the covrjrt invitation prompted by desire. In her 46 Z ^c (^u^btng of g ^asBton ^ slender hands swayed a long red-willow wand, plucked by the side of the black rock platform. Thus did Menotah, as she passed from the river- pool to the encampment beneath the evening, present herself to the young Canadian. And he stood spellbound, completely overmastered by a new power of fascination. As he kept his gaze fixed upon this lovely apparition of the summer forest, all his anxiety for the present, all the necessi- ties of the present, fled away forgotten. She was wonderful with the rich colouring of her perfect health, in the glorious line moulding of her fully matured figure. It was happiness of itself to stand and feast the eyes upon such a triumph of Nature's handiwork, and if the stronger was satisfied to gaze, the weaker was equally delighted to be admired. Yet it was the latter who gave the t'rst intimation of the monotony of such a pleasure. So she commenced with those dainty alluring wiles, irresistible yet dangerous, in which the graceful woman of beauty, whatever her blood or race, excels. She gave a slight nod of her pretty head, accompany- ing the coquettish movement with a wonderful smile. Then she raised the rea-willow wand, and pettishly struck at the tall flowering head of a plant before her. The young man felt as though his senses were yielding beneath the subtle influence of an anoes- thetic. In a dreamy mood he watched the curious evolutions of the beheaded bunch of bloom, as it darted upward, then settled softly and without sound to the ground. But this mood changed when she looked across at 47 ^ (B(tenofa0 ! !fr! him again. Then there surged over his entire being an irresistible impulse, which prompted him to spring forward and clasp this lovely being in his arms. Menotah, with the quick skill of her sex, read the keen desire of his mind at a glance. So, after the manner of women, she but hastened to add fuel to the growing ardour of nis inclination. An erratic firefly wandered down from the over- hanging branches, then commenced to dart from side to side near her head. She followed its shining course with her bright eyes, and twisted her little face into a charming expression, which revealed a sudden glimpse of two gleaming lines of pearl-like teeth. Then, as the insect tumbled near her, she made a quick snatch at the glowing point of fire. She missed, of course. In disappointed resentment, very pretty to watch, she endeavoured to cut short its career by means of her willow twig, but failed again. Then she glanced across at the watching eyes opposite. The following second the silence was broken for the first time by her clear burst of light, melodious laughter. Nature has set a varying limit to all human endurance. One extra turn of the tormentor's screw, and the spirit, so dauntless the moment before, yields in abject submission. This young Canadian was very human indeed. Menotah's laughter exceeded the extreme limit of his self-control. So what happened during the next minute he hardly knew. The forest had melted away, drawn back as it were into the mysterious night; his eyes saw nothing but the alluring loveliness beyond his 48 ^'9e Q^ub^tng of a (pftggton 5i^ body felt nothing, beyond the strange warmth of passion. Memory, duty, danger, became empty words that had no meaning. He felt that he had moved forward with a sudden motion, and maddened by impulse. He was con- scious of a lovely face with red, curling lips upturned to his, of liquid eyes, and a soft mouth wreathed in smiles. So near, so close, he could feel the warmth emanat- ing from her young body, with the fanning breath playing like a summer breeze around his neck. This was a gift reserved for him, and sent to him alone. Then Us eager arms darted forward, but met nothing save cold, dewy bushes. His hot, excited lips came only in contact with the keen air of a northern night, while the melodious echo of a clear, departing voice mocked his ears. So, when understanding returned to his brain, he found himself alone, standing bei:eath the gloomy trees, with the night shadows falling thickly round his head. In the neighbouring bush great frogs were chirping derisively. The air became suddenly chilly, while life seemed a burden. There was something in his hands — his eyes became fastened upon a trailing festoon of green leaves studded with bright red berries, which flickered from his fingers irresolutely beneath the breeze. ■1 ■ 1 CHAPTER IV THE FORT Before a low fringe of willow undergrowth, which gradually led up to the first thick bank of firs, spread a narrow strip of turf, not more than fifty feet in width, and terminating in the broken cliff line of the Great Saskatchewan River.* Scattered irregularly along this undulating grass expanse appeared great rocks, deeply imbedded for the most part in the soil, some, indeed, not exhibiting more than an iron-grey splinter, which protruded aggressively from the turf in the shape of a grotesque nose or elbow. At one side of this small clearing uprose a single- storey hut. This was built of unshapen logs, white- washed, the crevices being filled in with mud ; while, not more than a dozen yards distant, another equally incomplex building stood close to a lofty fir, which had been denuded of all branches and converted into a natural flagstaff. Here two flags indolently whipped the air. Above flew the ever-victorious ensign of England; below, that of the Hudson's Bay Company. * The less known Little Saskatchewan empties itself into the lake on the opposite side, about forty miles further south. 50 t^t Soxi ^ lake In a southerly direction, lying between the forest line and cliff brink, were d jtted small huts at long intervals. These were all grass-roofed and innocent of windows, other than a square cut hole at one side of each dwelling, while occasionally the smoke- begrimed apex of an Indian tt'pee forced itself from the thick of a separate tree clump. Yet, for all this, no human being appeared in sight ; no canoe sped bird-like over the waters of the Saskatchewan ; no sounds of human activity uprose on the breeze. In the principal room, or office usually styled, of the log fort, which was the whitewashed hut situated a few yards from the cliff brink, and beside the flagstaff, two men were creating conversation by a simple process of mutual disagreement. A dilapi- dated sofa, minus legs, supported on two boxes ; a deal wood table, well chipped with knives ; an aged writing desk, and small bookcase crammed to over- flowing with all kinds of literature, ranging from a translation of Homer and yellow-covered narratives of sanguinary impossibilities to a treatise on the parables, and a deep work of Hooker's — such were the chief articles of furniture in the room. Behind the door, unmethodical hands had piled a stack of dirty boots and empty bottles, while hard by an assortment of guns and rifles stood supported by the log wall. Behind were two other apartments, used respect- ively as bed and store room, while, running from the centre of the building, a passage had recently been erected, which led into a diminutive kitchen, where at 51 ^ ^enofa0 V ' :i.t m i ?: % [: the present moment a half-breed cook was preparing supper for the garrulous mouths within. From a small window in the back room the great river could be readily scanned. At this point the stream of the great Saskatchewan was unusually wide, being divided by a long, though somewhat narrow island, thickly covered with vegetation, and rising to some height above water level. Conspicuous in the centre appeared a tree-en- vironed hut. This rough habitation was the property of the H. B. C, and had been erected some years back to afford a harbour of refuge for any officers of the Company who might be compelled to retreat from the fort on the main bank, owing to Indian hostility. Into the office a subtle aroma of supper stew crept insidiously, while the two disputants became refreshed into other differences by the pleasant anticipation of a satisfactory meal. Chief Factor M'Auliff'^ rose from the box on which he had been seated, and having opened the door gazed up and down along the river bank. This representative of the most powerful company in the world presented a strange appearance. His was an average height, yet he was broad and strongly built, of great strength and activity, in spite of his age, which hovered in close proximity to the three score. His immense head, posed on a bull-like neck, and the determined set of every muscle in his face, betokened an obstinate character, which would never allow itself to be thwarted by even a superior — either in argument or actual fight — whether he were in the right or wrong. His black beard and moustache, plentifully besprinkled Z^e Soiff §^ with grey, had recently been clipped into short lines of bristles, evidently by the amateur hand of one of his companions, while the same inquisitorial agency had ruthlessly reaped the hair on his scalp as close to the skull as scissors could touch. His costume was primitive and economical. The other occupant of the room was a tall, un- gainly man, who moved with stiff motions, and swung his arms with the mechanical action of semaphore signals whenever exicted. This was extremely often, for he and M'Auliffe were generally bickering over some question, raised by the one, merely for the sake of argument, and as warmly refuted by the other. Externally there was little remarkable about Peter Denton, as this individual was named. He owned a yellow moustache, coarse hair of the same complexion, and watery-blue eyes. Internally he was complicated and extraordinary. The Factor stood at the open door, watching the sloA^ly gathering shadows lengthening upon the trees. At length he remarked abruptly, ' Don't catch any signs of the other boys, Justin. Time they were back, for it's bad travelling in the forest after dark.' The half-breed was arranging the table. He turned his head, gave a low grunt, then spread out his fingers in the air. • Moose,' he ejaculated. 'That's so, I reckon. They're on a fresh track, and don't feel like giving up.' * Let boy look,' said Justin, pointing a crooked forefinger. ' His eyes good.' Then he moved towards the kitchen with a dull chuckle. ^ (gtenota^ i )■ il: The Factor wheeled round, his great face aglow. * His eyes ! I could make better ones out of a toad's body. They're like a potato's — only fit to be cut out and chucked away.' Denton's hollow voice sounded from a corner, where he sat mending a coat. ' Make use of your eyes in searching after righteousness, as I've done, Alfred. Perhaps then there would be still a chance of escaping the lake of fire which yawns beneath your feet.' * I'm glad you allow you haven't found righteous- ness, Peter. By the way you're searching, you can go on until they want you 'way under. I never found any use striking north when I wanted to get south.* Denton wagged his head mournfully. 'The time must come when you will be cut down and perish in your sins.' 'Don't take trouble, Peter. The good are taken early, mind ; so there's a pile of years ahead for you after I've gone.' And M'AulifTfe chuckled loudly. Denton was ready with rebuke. * I'd like you to listen a few hours to the preach- hig of our pastor, Dr M'Killiam. But that holy man would refuse to cast his pearls before such swine.' The Factor was more interested. * None of your ministers could knock spots off my hide. Talk of preaching! Why, I've heard our Dr Bryce preach on hell-fire, until everyone in the congregation was fairly sweating.' Denton groaned and cast his eyes upward. ' Well 94 t^e Sort ^ you might sweat, with your sins staring you in the face. But if you come to preaching, I've heard our minister talk for three hours without a break, except to tell a stranger to quit throwing orange peel around the church. When he'd finished, the congregation clapped so loudly that he had to bow his acknowledg- ments three times from the pulpit. I tell you, we advertised that in the papers, and filled our church to the doors within the month.' ' With a lot of bummers who hadn't any comfort- able place to sleep in Sunday nights. I heard one of your ministers preach once, and 'twas worse than chloroform. They might have taken a leg off me without my knowing it.' Here Justin entered with a steaming bowl of stewed moose meat and prairie spinach. This he set on the table, then pointed maliciously at Denton. ' Boy preach,' he said. * I hear him.' The Factor at once interposed. 'You're right, Justin. This fifth-rate specimen of humanity the Company's burdened me with, used to be a minister in the summer and a bar-tender in the winter. When it was hot, he cursed fellows for drinking cool-eyes, and reminded them there was a sultry place all ready for their whisky-black souls. During the cold weather, he put in his time making fellows drunk, and getting full himself Denton fired up instantly. 'Whoever told you that is a right friend for you. He's as bad a liar—' * Then you must have converted him, Peter. He was straight enough when I last came across him,' 55 i ,1 ^ (ttt enota^ said the Factor. ' I suppose you'll say next you never ran that menagerie?' 'I do,' said Denton, sullenly. 'My only dealings with menageries were to denounce them as ^jlnful pleasures.' M'Auliffe whistled. 'Better get outside, Justin, before the roof tumbles.' He glanced admiringly at Denton. ' You're wasting good talents, Peter. If I could lie like you, I'd expect to make my fortune in a few years as newspaper correspondent. See here a minute, Justin, while I show him up. This spot of dirt turned up one Sunday evening at his church, so full he couldn't see straight. He started in to work by cursing all the black sheep ihat had come to hear him. Of course they couldn't take that. They'd got to obey their natural instinct of hyprocrisy, though they might envy their minister's power of language. So they took Mister Man, and fired him out of the place, which is the only good deed they're ever likely to have to look back upon. Then he makes off with another deadbeat, and starts a kind of show outside the town — this was in Port Arthur, mind. He used to stand on a chair by the door of the tent, with dollr.r bills stuck in his hat brim, trying to catch the people's money. I tell you, what with the menagerie by day, and with shooting loaded craps by night, these two blacklegs looted a pile of dollars out of the pockets of decent citizens.' Denton raised his head from the half-mended coat, and said sulkily, ' You're a shameless liar, Alfred ! It stamps a man for life to be seen in your company.' • So it does, Peter,' said the Factor, heartily ; * let's 56 >ia^ t^e Sort ^ you ilings >inful ■ t shake on that. If you're seen along with me a few more months, some folks may begin to think of trusting you. Don't lose heart, lad. There's hope even for the worst.' ' Not when a man gets to your state,' retorted Denton. The Factor laughed. 'That's a sharp answer for you, Peter. You're learning fast under me. If you keep that pace — steer clear of brain fever anu such diseases — you'll perhaps be able to give an answer to a ten-year-old child in another five years. Can't promise all that, Peter ; but it's wonderful what perseverance will do.' Denton extended a denouncing and dirty fore- finger at the Factor's broad chest. * Stop your wicked judgment of fellow creatures ! — you, who walk through life with the mark of Satan on your knee ! ' M'Aulifife's nether garments were fashioned out of sacking originally used for packing liquor cases. Consequently, on that portion of the garment indi- cated, a lurid red star was visible above the sten- cilled letters—' Old Rye Whisky.' *We differ again, Peter. It's better having it on the knee than the forehead. You're wonderful jealous to-night. It's the minister talking, instead of the bar-tender.' ' I never was a bar-tender,' said the other sullenly. The Factor glanced at the heavens. ' It's going to be a fine night, with full moon. Don't get spoiling it by bringing up a thunderstorm. Were you ever a minister? Let's have a getting monotonous, Peter.' 57 bit o^ truth. You're II it* ^ 3^enota$ ■1 !' I II Denton was about to return an angry reply, when the half-breed again appeared and pointed significantly to the waiting supper. M'Aulifife paced to the door with the ex- clamation, * Say, Justin, I wish those fellows were back.' * It's near quarter to nine,' muttered Denton. ' And your insides are aching for grub — might as well say so right out.' The Factor turned back into the room. * Well, if they must stay away half the night, they can't expect us to keep a look-out. Come on, Justin. Pass me over that sturgeon steak before Peter gets his teeth against it.' The three gathered round the crazy table, and for a few minutes there was silence of tongues. Thus quarter of an hour passed. Then the Factor cleaned a greasy hand upon his beard, and stretched himself with a sigh of satisfaction. He drew out his pipe, and had just commenced to shave a plug of T. & B., when Justin raised his hand and whistled in a manner peculiar. M'Auliffe understood the signal. He listened, and presently there came dull, distant sounds from without. His face grew very grave, while the knife in his hand tapped gently upon the table. An ashen hue crept over Denton's sallow features. Nearer came the sounds and louder, as they spread towards the fort through thickening shadows and the white dews of night. Then M'Auliffe spoke. 'That's Kitty. I know that gallop of hers. Goldam ! how she's tumbling through the bush!' 58 fa$ , f ; The night was fearfully still — not a breath stirring the tree tops. Above, the stars were lit one by one. Justin pushed back the door, and listened stolidly to the crashing of green boughs, the snapping of dead branches, the sharp click of hoofs against rock splinters. Inside — no sound, except the Factor's deep breathing, and an irregular tattoo, produced by Denton's heels tapping upon the floor. Then he turned, and, without altering a muscle in his heavy face, began to load the rifles and lay them out upon the table. The Factor peered into the darkness, for the moon had not yet risen. * She'll be clear presently,' he said carelessly. * Reckon young Winton got switched off from Billy. Then he got bothered by a touch of forest fright and lost his herd. What the devil you doing, Justin?* The half-breed was methodically counting out shells. He glanced up and said laconically, ' NitcJiies !* * Pshaw ! you're crazy, boy. There's no rebellion up here.' Justin grunted. 'You wrong. Riel send message. They paint and fight. You see.' Then he coolly fell to oiling his rifle, while a fresh wave of fear passed over the shivering Denton. The Factor swore quietly. The next moment a grey mare dashed furiously from the darkness. At the door she pulled up panting, with blood-red nostrils, her sides covered with foam-sweat, while a figure tumbled helplessly from the improvised saddle. 59 ^ (glenota^ Ki. I iiij I. M'AuHfife caught him as he staggered forward, and hair carried him inside. Justin stood by the mare, with his rifle at the ready, and his bead-like eyes .^taring into the gloom, but- there was no sign ol purr aer. The black trees whispered solemnly in a 1,; \.i'''ze. 'Fetch my whisky keg ak 7!' bJlowed M'Auliffe. ' Give the boy a good dram, and daxui. the water.' Denton shuffled off to obey, while Justin's voice came rolling inside with weird effect. 'Billy! — he gone ! ' The Factor's great hands shook as he ad- ministered the liquor. Winton gasped and clutched at him. 'Don't claw me; I'm not a nitchi. Now, then, you're right again, eh ? ' The young fellow struggled up and glared round wildly. 'Soit'syou, Alf?' ' That's what. Old Billy's coming on behind ? ' Winton shuddered. The words rattled forth like shot upon a hollow wall. ' They've fixed him.' Justin entered in time to catch this. The long hair at the sides of h's face shook solemnly. ' I tell you ; nitchies fight. See, boy ? ' M'Auliffe was wiping his massive forehead with an oily rag the half-breed had recently employed for gun-cleaning purposes. * Mix me a glass, Justin — a stiff one to straighten my nerves out. Goldam ! this corks me.' Winton blinked his eyes like an owl in the sun- light. ' He's dead. Plugged by those devilish nitchies! Then he briefly told his tale. 60 t^e Sotrt ^ 'You didn't see him corpsed?' cried the Factor, eagerly. * Next thing. The shot, groan, the fall — all the rest.' * This fairly sets me on the itch,' said the Factor, pacing up and down. * Poor old Billy. Goldam ! I'd like to get my axe alongside the skull of the skunk who did the lead-pumping business. I'd set his body to pickle, I tell you.' 'Vengeance will fall upon the wicked man who striketh his neighbour secretly,' came in a weak voice from the corner. ' Let us watch and pray.* Denton became himself again when he understood that Winton was unpursued. * Never mind him,' said M'Auliffe, generally. ' He's only a crazy kind of fool, anyhow. He don't know what he's talking about.' Again Justin's dark hand shot upward, and the warning whistle sounded. He set his head forward, then remarked, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, ' Boy coming.* Denton's heels recommenced their tattoo, while the others caught up their guns. The moon was rising now, and some silvery rays slanted through the window. Suddenly a heavy knock fell upon the door. ' Ho ! ' cried the half-breed through a crack. * Open up,' came back the answer in pure English. ' Goldam I * shouted M'Auliffe, ' it's the devil, or a pal of his.* The door creaked back. On the threshold, with the night behind, stood a young man, a rifle swing- ing from his hand. 6i ! I ^ ^ (fflenofgg 'Chief Factor M'Auliffe, I reckon?' he said smoothly, entering the fort. •That's so,' the burly Factor replied. 'The devil bless me if I know who you are.' ^ Benediciie !* laughed the new-comer, a strange smile crossing his handsome face. ' My name is Hugh Lamont — at the service of the Hudson's Bay Company,' he concluded, ' I guess the Company can hustle along without smashing your shoulders,* returned M'Aulifie, who was absolute despot of the district. ' I'm not so sure,' came the cool answer. ' This is a bad time for modesty, so I'll hurt my feelings to the extent of letting you know that there isn't a man in the Dominion who can down me at any range with rifle or revolver. Like to try?* This was an unfortunate challenge. M'Auliffe was accustomed to boast of being the worst shot on the Continent. It was, however, a fact that he was perfectly useless as a marksman. 'You've just come from the Lord knows where to tell me that,' he shouted angrily. 'Just you quit your shooting toy, and get your arms round my body. I tell you, I could throw your weight from here to the forest.' Lamont laughed contemptuously. He glanced through the window at the Saskatchewan burning beneath the moon, then remarked, ' I guess you'll be hearingan owl pumpingout hoots round here presently.' ' Let them hoot,' said the Factor, hotly. ' Goldam ! the derned old owls don't have to ask your per- mission — ' 62 'These owls don't grow feathers on their skins/ continued the young man, unmoved. 'The kind that'll be hooting presently are just now laying paint on their faces, and fixing up their shooters.' Then the others gathered round him at once ' What's that ? ' cried the Factor. * Never mind my crazy talk. What are the nitchics after ? ' 'They're going to clear you out at midnight,' replied Lamont, nonchalantly. Quarter of an hour later, the position had been discussed and plan of action determined on. There was only one course open, namely, a retreat to the island on mid-stream, where they would be fairly safe against a small attacking force. It was then two hours before midnight, so they had ample time. Angry and excited, M'Auliffe paced the narrow floor, his great voice booming forth like a bull's bellow. Lamont took a seat at the table, and coolly attacked the remnants of the supper with the hearty appetite of hunger. Winton stood upright, refreshed and ready to meet the men who had cut short the career of his hunter friend. Nobody noticed Denton squirming in a dark corner. ' Boys, we must be shifting. Say, Justin, the York boat lies right below, eh ? ' The half-breed grunted, while the Factor continued, ' Let's get. Don't make more noise than you want to. We'll fix up and come back for you, Lamont,' he concluded, with the easy familiarity of the country. The three men left the fort, and followed a winding path along the side of the cliff. Drawn up on a 63 narrow sandspit, like some antediluvian monpter, lay a black York boat, which was dragged by concerted effort to the water's edge. Then burdens were dis- posed of, Justin left on guard, while the others climbed back up the stony pathway, talking in loud tones, as though there were no such things as Indians in the world. M'Auliffe, who had given the warning, was of course principal offender. Yet it was difficult to be low-spirited on such a night. There was no wind — no sound, except a soft sigh- ing over the waters, and a whispering through scarce quivering leaves. The moon, rising in her silvery glory, cast over the lonely forest and glittering river track a gorgeous mantle of light, investing all things with mystical shadow of unreality. The shimmering foliage of the bushes, agitated by the bodies of the men as they passed, appeared bathed in a flood of radiance, while from the point of each jewelled leaf small dewdrops fell like pearls in a shower of silver. Across the river a broad ladder of light lay shivering and burning. Little gilded serpents wound their phosphorescent coils from wave to wave, darting to each side of the glowing road into blacker water, then casting tiny lamps of fire and points of beauty upon the curling crest of each murmuring ripple. Again they darted back, to receive new energy, while in a breath the eye was dazzled anew by fresh wonders. Above, in a clear sky, the constellations glimmered faintly, their beauty somewhat dimmed by the nearer glories of earth's satellite. A few fragile cirri floated, like dream spirits, beneath the blue expanse, while, in 64 '•^^km t^t Sort ^ the distance, long auroral streamers, indistinct cones and spindles of vapour, shot upward from an arched smoky cloud, rising a few degrees above the northern horizon. 'Wonder they didn't make oflF with the boat,' said Winton, as they struggled along the difficult track. * The devils are too clever ; it would have given us fair warning. They couldn't have dragged the old ark far without bringing Justin down. The old chap can see everything.* ' Grand night, isn't it ? ' • Fine,' agreed M'Aulifife, slapping his mighty chest. 'Just the time when a fellow feels like devilry of some sort. Give me the night, a good moon lighting up the trees, a clear sky and soft wind, and I'm fit to throw a dozen men one after the other. Time of day makes a lot of difference to me. In the morning, I feel sort of weak, and want to knock around doing woman's chores. Noon, I'm for eating; while in the afternoon, I'm bound to stretch out my legs and pull at the pipe. But when the darkness comes round, I begin to feel good. I want to use up my spare strength on anything handy. The night's the time, I tell you. When you're tired, there's always a glass of whisky and bed waiting. What more can a man want?' ' Only home and friends,' muttered the other, in a low voice. Lamont, in the meantime, was left to himself, as he thought, in the fort. So, as he satisfied the cravings of man within, he speculated upon the possibility of danger for man without. For that night he would E !• ^ (fflenofftg have his hands full. The Factor was useless as a rifle shot, so they wsre very short-handed. Still, his own aim was unerring. He smiled to himself, a? he lay back in a bright ray of moonlight. A scene of blood, burnt powder, shrieking bullets, and cries of agony rose before him. He saw again that desperate struggle at Fish Creek. A gallant, though straggling, line of the 90th, Manitoba's pride, came charging recklessly up the flowery slope —there were brave boys in the 90th, but they lacked good leadership. Young boys from the Red River Valley, with sterner fighters from Fort Garry. Up they came, their beardless faces red with determmation and heat of battle. But many of them were dropped ""ilently at long range, and fell upon the soft bed of prairie grass, bleeding from a mortal wound. Lamont's smile grew crueller, as he saw again a lithe, graceful figure stretched along a declivity in the ridge, with cheek cuddling a rifle stock. Every time that weapon spoke, one of the 90th boys grabbed the 3.ir and tumbled. Riel had at least one powerful auxiliary at the Creek. Shuffling movements in an opposite corner brought him back to the present. He uttered a quick exclam- ation, then snatched up the lamp and held it above his head. As a dark body stirred slowly, his brow grew damp and his face white. But the blood re- turned slowly to his face, when the feeble rays smote upon the abject countenance of the miserable Denton. ' I thought I was alone,' he said, with a short laugh. * Are you one of the crowd ? ' 66 Z^c iSovi ^ Denton crept up to the table, with shivering limbs and ghastly eyes. 'You're looking sick,' Lamont continued. 'What were you doing in that corner ? ' ' I was asleep,' came the shaky answer. ' My eyes were weary from much searching of the Scriptures.' The young man laughed openly. ' I guess a rifle will be of more use to you than the Scriptures to-night.' The other grabbed his arm. 'Say, this is just a job you're putting up on M* AuHffe, eh ? ' 'You keep your ears fairly active when you're asleep. But it's true enough, siree. The nitchies are on the red-hot jump for us.' * We shall be killed,' quavered Denton, with hands shaking like river reeds. A hearty roar of laughter burst from the doorway as the Factor's burly figure blocked the aperture. ' The nitchies are after you, Peter, so you'll be killed sure. Never mind, lad. You're all the time saying you can see the gates of the heavenly city open before you. Kind of anxious now whether you haven't switched off on a side track, eh ? ' Lamont sprang to his feet, passing his fingers caressingly round the rifle stock. ' I'm ready to shift, Factor. The sooner we're over the better. There may be spies around.' ' They're dead sure we're trapped,' said M'Auliffe * Anyway, we'll be as easy there as here. Get a gait on, Peter. We're going to stick you up the end of the island, same as we used to fix up a pole with old clothes on it, in the fields at home, to scare away the crows.' 67 :| :'i I I |3 m * Choke off, Alf/ interposed Winton. ' If you chaps start that chin music, we sha'n't get away before sunrise.' ' Well, I'm not delaying you. Peter's mismanager here. Goldam ! listen to that, will you ? ' His face grew stern again, and he held up a great hairy hand. ' The half-breed's whistle,' said Lamont. ' There's danger around.' * Shut the door ! ' shouted the ex-minister, wildly. *Quit your blasted noise. There it comes. Goldam ! listen to it.* Again the weird conflict of sounds proceeded from the forest. There was a great crashing of branches, he sharp striking of hoofs upon rock, the heavy plungings of a frightened animal. Up from the river came the second warning whistle. The moonlight poured into the room ; the Factor dashed outside, with weighty axe in his hands ; the next minute a loud oath rolled off his tongue. A black horse was pawing at the turf. At every sound he flung up his head and trembled, while his eyes glittered savagely. * You tell me old Billy's been fixed by nitchies ? ' shouted M'Auliffe. * If anyone says that, it's a dam' great lie. There's been filthy work around here to- night, boys, or I'm talking through my hat.' Then Lamont came forward, with his usual grace of motion. ' You're right,' he said slowly ; ' the rifle's strapped to the saddle yet. No Indian would lose such a chance.' The Factor bit at his moustache, and glanced 68 ^ge Sort §^ round towards Winton beneath heavy eyebrows. Midway his gaze was arrested by Lament, and the two stared at each other in the white light. M'Auliffe was the first to lower his gaze. Kitty, the grey one-eyed mare, came and rubbed her nose against the black horse. Then an owl hooted loudly from the edge of the bush. A weird shriek came from the interior of the fort. * It's the signal ! ' exclaimed Winton, excitedly. ' That's the genuine moper,' said the Factor, sullenly. * Come on, boys, let's get across the water. I reckon the devil himself's among us to-night.' ^k^..ri fi i \\ CHAPTER V THIE FIQHT A LONG hour had dragged away. The moon, then a glowing disc of radiance, had reached the centre of the heavens, and cast over the northern land a shivering mantle of white light. On the long, wooded island, round which the mighty river hissed and murmured, five men were stationed at various points. Sheltered behind the efficient rampart of the black York boat, which had been drawn up on the shingle beach, ^ -^mont knelt, nursing his rifle. He had taken off Iv - coat to sling over head and neck, for protection against the mosquitoes that swarmed in malignant numbers between river and undei growth. Before him a delicate green poplar branch waved from the boat. This concealed the gleam of his weapon without interfering with his sight. Not far distant Wiuton lay stretched along a fir- shaao'V'^d rock, the slime-green base of which was washed by the Ixj^ping waves. He kept a watch- ful eye on the opposite shore, while pulling strongly at a short pipt^. In the dark shadows h:?hind, the comedy of a I f "r- f^!b^r?>-»^-#Zi„^; I*..-,. »*•■»'..'.« i of a melodrama was being rehearsed. M'Auliffe, self- appointed leader of the defence party, having placed his crack shots, paced up and down before the log hut, drawing ghastly pictures of a probably impending fate for the benefit of the terror-stricken Deiiton. As his mercurial excitement increased, he swung his only weapon — a keen-edged bush axe — over his head, while at each flash of the metal the quondam bar-tender shrank back with a fresh shudder. Reproof came at length from young Winton. ' Say, Alf, that axe shines like lightning. You're raising an awful racket.' The Factor quickly lowered his weapon. * You're right. I'm just explaining things to Peter, though. He wants to know which is the position of danger, as he's dead set on getting it. There's a lion's heart under Peter's modesty, I tell you.' Winton chuckled softly, and carefully struck a match. With huge relish, the Factor continued, * See here, Peter, when the nitchies get hold of you they'll start to work and strip you bare as a shell- fish. Likely then they'll fix you up with a tight suit of paint trimmed with atmosphere. Wonderful playful they can be when they set their minds to it. Shouldn't wonder if they didn't pour oil on your wool and touch it up with a light; just to see how you'd dance, or hear the talk you used preaching. They've got lots of fun in them, Peter. All they want's a fellow with humour, one that could see the point of their jokes. You'd do that fine. Might stick skewers into your stomach to try your digestion, or — ' 71 "H^-*" -»£::n."»«:a« .*<*"-*' ml I ■ , I! |i i ; i ^ (fflenofgg I'sre the rifle Denton had been grasping gingerly fell with a crash. Small sweat-beads stood upon his white forehead. * Hold on ! ' cried M'Auliffe, with more concern, 'we haven't got too many rifles as it is. Pick up that shooter, and just come along with me. Don't point the derned thing at my stomach.' ' It's not loaded,' stammered the ex-minister. ' Not loaded ! ' shouted the Facior, in a voice that might almost have been heard at the mouth of the Saskatchewan. ' You old doodle-nowl ! I reckon you think that when you point it at a mUM he's going to tumble dead just to oblige you. Here, hand over your shells, while 1 pack the thing for you.' * I haven't any,' quavered Denton. ' I'd like to know darned well what you have got, outside a lump of pigeon heart and chunk of white liver. Justin ! * The half-breed appeared at the low doorway. * Give me some shells,' continued the Factor. ' And — Goidam ! ' After his favour'^e oath, the agile tongue became silent. From ti* distant forest came the solemn hooting of an owl The dreary sound hung solemnly over the water. A gam it screeched forth, then a third time. Lament shifted his position slightly, while a light glittered in h.h keen eyes. Winton slipped the warm pipe i^to his- pocket, and nervously rubbed at his arms, to remove a suggestion of stiffness. Justin handed a fistful of shells to the Factor, then f» iC^e iSiq^i ^ his j» proceeded unconcernedly to the water's edge. Squatting on his haunches he wrenched a large tobacco-wad from a black plug, then leaned over towards his neighbour and grunted. Winton looked across inquiringly. ' Tobak ? queried the half-breed, extending the greasy plug. The young man shook his head. ' Good,' affirmed Justin, touching his right eye and raising the rifle to his shoulder. * No good to me,' came the answer. So Justin grunted again, while his jaws moved faster. M'Auliffe dropped his axe and vigorously forced the shells into the rifle chamber. Then he shoved the weapon into Denton's hand, and hurried him over the shingle with the remark, ' Now chuck off the fleece, Peter. Be a ravening wolf, and worthy of the Company. We've got to fight, and there's no flies on it. You do your biz to-night, and I'll let you hold a prayer meeting in the fort when everything's over. Think of that, Peter.' Then he passed to the others, with axe under arm, kicking up the wet sand and muttering, * Darn it, why can't I shoot ? I'd give my nose and ears to be able to send a bullet straight.' The minutes dragged heavily after the signal had been given. M'Auliffe stood in a deep shadow, lean- ing forward on his axe. He fixed his gaze upon the low, whitewashed walls of the fort — where his best years had been spent in isolation from the world — showing ghastly in the moonlight ; he looked on to the open space, with the black rocks and long forest shado\vs, then at the motionless bank of trees, which /3 i ^ fflenotdg ill concealed the approaching foe. Casting his eyes higher, he beheld the majestic flag of England sway- ing listlessly from the denuded fir; yet higher — he saw the pale stars, and for the moment wondered what lay beyond. Justin's small eyes were keener even than Lamont's, for he it was who first perceived dark forms, half con- cealed by bushes they were carrying, winding in single file round the base of the cliff. He gave his low whistle, then deliberately glanced an eye along his sights. The Factor was sprawling along the shingle, watch- ing the Indians as they commenced to climb the cliff face, led by one man particularly agile. He muttered softly, * They're fooled by the light you left burning, Justin. Goldam ! I'd like to be on top of that cliff now. This old axe of mine would rattle among their jawbones ! ' Then Lamont turned himself and called, 'Say, boys, I want you to give me first shot' A word, then a grunt, came back by way of assent, but there was no third voice. ' Wonder what Peter's doing,' resumed M'Auliffe. ' Hope he won't play monkey tricks with us, anyway. If he aims this way, we're right enough ; but if he shoots at the nitchies, there's a fair chance for one of us to damage a bullet' That unearthly silence still brooded over the great river and lonely forest The northern lights crept higher up the sky with a stronger glow. A few sounds, which intensified the solitude, beat the air — the sharp chirping of frogs from the white mi'^kegs 74 t! behind, the sullen roar of great rapids miles up stream, the piercing refrain of the chief of insect pests. The tall leader crept up the cliff front, followed by his companions, their bodies flattened against the rock. On the island shore lay Lamont, rifle to shoulder, his cheek caressing the stock, head leaning over as though in sleep. He might have been a stone figure. Another minute, and the leader came up to the summit. He shot forth a long arm to seize the overhanging rock cornice and drag his body over the ledge. But, as he did so, two or three pale blue smoke rings circled peacefully from the island, to float down with the murmuring river. Afterwards came a whip-like cracky which set the wild northern echoes shrieking. The leader flung up both arms with convulsive action, then crashed backward, down amongst his followers, sweeping them to the cruel rocks and sand beach beneath. Then Lamont aroused himself and looked round for criticism. M'Auliffe shambled up from his bed of loose stones with ungraceful motions. Up and down the beach he went, laughing and bellowing, bull-like, in his excitement. • Goldam ! ' he shouted again and again. * That beats all ! That's the daisiest thing in long shots I've ever blinked atl Goldam, Lamont! you're a peach! Brought them all down, by the almighty Jerusalem ! Every dirty, lickspittle squaw's papoose I Here they are again. Pump away your lead, boys. Goldam ! Goldam ! 75 •ii; ' The attacking party from the forest appeared out in the open. Some ventured round the corner of the fort, and these discovered the fate of their companions. But directly they showed themselves, three shots rang out sharply. The Factor narrowly escaped wounding his leg with the axe in his evolutions. He puffed out his beard, while his great red face glowed and shone. ' I tell you, you're doing fine, boys. You picked off that big fellow as though he'd been a chicken on a fence post, Justin. Hope he isn't dead, though ; he owes the Company for a pair of blankets. Look at that, would you ? * Small shot whistled through the air, pattering against rocks, through leaves, and dropping like hail into the river. The natives had fired a volley from their old muzzleloaders, which were almost useless at the distance. Then the attacking party, evidently disappointed and mystified, withdrew again into the forest. The defenders left their post and came round M'Auliffe, with the unimportant exception of Denton. A sharp query at once arose, ' Where's that derned skunk, Peter?' The half-breed jerked his head towards the trees, and muttered, * He no good.' * The mean devil. He can shoot well if he wants. I'm going to track him up, then tie him down to his place.' 'What's the good, Alf ? * said Winton. 'Let him alone. He won't be any good if you do find him.' The other yielded. 'Well, well, I guess you're 76 him \ \ ''. \ right. Now I wonder what scheme the rascals t'other side mean working.' ' Get canoe,' said Justin, abruptly. * I reckon. Then they'll try their dirtiest to land. I shall have my chores to see to soon as they cross the Jordan. How many boats, Justin ? ' The half-breed held up a hand, then replied, 'Canoe; one boat.' 'Five canoes and a York,' said M'Aulifle, inter- preting the sign language. ' That's rough. There's not another tribe in the district with a York boat. This is an old one ; used to belong to the Company. It may be leaky, still I reckon it'll do the trip.' * How large is the tribe ? ' asked Lamont. 'Small. Not more than sixty males, counting the old 'uns and boys. We should be able to hold them off.' ' Hope they'll soon come,' said Winton, stretching his long arms. M'Auliffe passed his thumb across the axe edge. ' I reckon this is an interval for refreshment,' he observed. ' There should be a bottle in the hut, boys. Let's tur*^ in for a nerve-straightener and a bit of plug. Justin'll whistle out when we're wanted.' Then they disappeared within, while the night silence grew again. About half an hour had slipped away, before the half-breed's whistle gave warning of danger. The men were quickly back in their places, to see a couple of canoes working up stream, hugging the opposite bank closely. Lamont knelt for a time at the side of the half- 77 h .t .o/\^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 11.25 1^ ,5. |12 if 1^ ^ IIIIIM IIIIIM i.8 — 6' i-4 IIIIII.6 Va ^ 7a A /j >> # ^ ^'^^'^ # Photographic Sciences Corporation 4^ i\ 4v <> C^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716)872-4503 «^ ^ s ^ ■0 ^ (Slenofa^ i.ii 'm '* .] breed, talking and explaining. Justin nodded and grunted as a sign of understanding, then took a fresh wad of chew, and, without the least outward show of interest, watched the progress of the enemy. M'Auliffe now v/ore the axe strapped to his back, and appeared with a huge breechloader, which he had loaded with No. 2 shot and a heavy charge. This was for close quarters. But as he scanned the moon-lit prospect, his peace of mind was considerably perturbed by a slight, yet sufficiently significant omen. The rope might have been tampered with by some Indian, or the slight wind might possibly have loosened the rings, but it was certain that the two flags, which recently had fluttered in their proper places, were now hang- ing at half-mast. The Factor was superstitious, like most northerners, so the sight troubled him. It did not appear as though the others had noticed the change — Justin would not have understood the meaning 01 the sign — and this was perhaps as well. A gaunt, flat-bottomed York boat came suddenly round the bend in mid-stream. Six paddles flashed on either side between water and moonlight. Even so, progress was slow. * Ready, Justin ? ' called Lamont, quickly. A sonorous grunt, * First canoe.' Brief silence, then a double report. Two Indians, one at each end of the leading canes, staggered and fell over the side. Immediately the birch-shell overturned, and cast its occupants into the river. 78 But the black York boat came steadily on. In vain Justin crashed his bullets through the thick sides. In vain Lament skilfully pierced the planking beneath water line. The gaunt bulwarks of this floating castle grew nearer. Even Justin shook his head and muttered, 'Bad!' M'Auliffe swore and laid a brawny hand upon his axe. The boat was not more than a stone's throw from the end of the island, when a canoe, just launched from the opposite bank, came cutting a white line through the water. It had already reached mid-stream, when a strong cry rose from Winton's corner. ' What is it ? * called M'Auliffe, hurrying up. ' A canoe coming down stream. Not fifty yards off.' ' Attacked on three sides,' groaned the Factor, as he came to the young man's side. ' Half a dozen in it. Anything would send it over. Winton, boy, you must tackle it' 'Right, Alf,' said the young fellow simply. The Factor turned away heavily, but the voice behind called him back. ' Here, Alf, you've been square to the deadbeat' An oily, powder-stained hand was extended. M'Auliffe clutched it in his great fingers, then hurried along the loose shingle. He soon came up with the half-breed, who was firing steadily, but without apparent success, at the black boat The Indians reserved their fire for close quarters. With them reloading was a lengthy process. For the time Lamont's skill seemed to have left him. Shot after shot he aimed at the speeding 79 r I ^ (gtenofftg canoe, but with no decisive result. At length his nerve was restored, and he disabled the Indian in the bows. The next time his rifle cracked, water poured through the birch bark, and the frail canoe settled at once, not fifteen yards from shore. Then Lamont pulled out his revolver, and coolly picked off the dark heads bobbing among the waves caused by the furious struggles of desperate swimmers. Hard by, young Winton toiled single-handed. With the speed and coolness which had won him his football blue during that short 'Varsity career, he aimed, fired and reloaded, though his boyish face grew pale at the odds against him. If Lamont had only been by his side, as he so easily might have been ! Opportunities were narrowing down rapidly — the canoe was perilously close, and so many of his bullets went astray. Ah ! that was a good shot. The canoe had over- turned, but there were still three men uninjured. One held his weapon above water, and clung to the in- verted canoe, which he steered towards land, employ- ing it as a life-buoy and shield. Also, he could rest his gun on the birch bark, and take fairly deliberate aim. The other two reached shallow water, and were making for the bank. Winton pressed his lips fiercely, as, with a hand that trembled for the first time that night, he fired at the approaching foe. The tension was fearful, after the attack of deer feve" and the fright of Sinclair's end. If Lamont would only come! From the other end of the island came the loud yells of Indians, and over all the roar of the Factor's deep voice. 80 t^e Sig^f ^ For M'AuHffe's opening had arrived at last. With the imperturbable Justin at his side, he 'lay for' that York boat. Hurriedly he explained, ' We must empty their guns, boy. When I call "down," flop for your life.' With jerky motions the black monster drew down, the water rippling and gu'-gling along the sides. Paddles flashed in the moonlight, while drops rained from the quickly moving blades in fiery points of light. Not more than a dozen yards distant, and a head appeared. Justin's rifle flashed from the crook of his arm — a paddle dropped, and floated away down stream. That was a shot Lamont might have envied. Three more strokes, and a dozen pointing guns flashed within sight, as many painted faces glared defiance from the stocks. ' Down ! ' roared M'Auliffe, in a voice that set the leaves trembling. Before the echoes threw back the sound, they were sprawling against the wet sand. Literally at the same moment a thrilling report shrieked over island, up river, across distant forests. Small boughs and bunches of leaves rained from surrounding trees, while each trunk blei from a thousand wounds. The shot crashed, like the bursting of a hurricane, against the rocks, while the air was thick with flutter- ing wads, and foul with powder. A wild shout of triumph burst from the black boat. There were two lifeless figures stretched upon the beach ! So the paddles worked faster, while the keel ground sullenly on fine sand. There was no h m < I ^ (fflenofgg ■ iji i thought of concealment. Every warrior leaned over the side, laughing and howling in foolish joy. But as the smoke collected overhead in one large cloud, and commenced to drift away, extraordinary animation visited one of the supposed corpses. It sprang to its feet and rushed into the water, point- ing a heavy gun. At a merely nominal distance it levelled a great gun, then pulled the trigger, with a result that it fell floundering backwards with the force of recoil. It was up directly, spluttering and jubilant. ' You skunks ! I've fixed your dirty racket. Goldam 1 if I haven't made a straight shot this journey, call me Ananias.* Justin stood behind, stolidly chewing. He grunted and expressed his feelings by the monosyllable, 'Good!' The attacking party were quiet enough now, for there was hardly a single man unwounded. True to their nature, all had emptied their guns together. Now the foremost idea was immediate departure ; so a couple of men sprang overboard to push the boat off. But M'Auliffe threw down the gun, and swung round his axe. ' I'll spoil the first man who starts shoving,* he said cheerfully. The half-breed fired again, and a man who had been endeavouring secretly to load his gun fell forward in the boat. This robbed the Indians of their last vestige ol determination. They all cried aloud for mercy. The Factor was now in his element. ' Throw up your hands ! Come ashore one by one, and fling down your fixings I * 82 $9e Sis^t ^ for '3i- This injunction was obeyed. The warriors threw knives and ammunition to the beach, then stood with uplifted hands. 'Bring along that new rope, Justin!' The half- breed disappeared within the hut, while M'Auliffe, with the air of a general, reviewed his prisoners. * First that makes a break gets a bullet in his liver! If any want to commit suicide, all he's got to do is move out of his place ! * When the rope was brought, Justin cut it into lengths, while his superior, with considerable zest, fastened the hands of each warrior behind his back. To each he addressed a few conciliatory remarks. Such as to the leader, — ' Well, Muskwah, my boy, you've gone to work and made a derned fool of yourself to-night. Now I've got to use a good bit of new rope to decorate your arms; but see here, boy, I shall notch it down to your score in the store books. You'll have to bring along a gallon of fish oil to get square.' However, it was not reserved for Justin to fire the last shot of the fight. His share of the work completed, Lamont ex- changed rifle for pipe, and began to chop at a plug of T. & B. Thus employed, he suddenly heard a rattling of footsteps along the shingle towards his left. He turned, expecting to see Winton ; but it was a native, speeding along stealthily, with a long knife in his hand. Lamont dropped smoking materials, and with quick movement jerked up his revolver. He was lying in a perfectly opaque shadow, so was safe Hi VI \\- i 1«! ^ fflenofftg from the hostile eyes, which, indeed, never glanced in his direction. Probably this man had some personal grudge against M'Auliffe, and meant now to settle it. How he had managed to elude Winton was a question Lament could not attempt to answer. He crouched lower, and brought the muzzle down, until it finally rested at the crook of his left elbow. His hand was like a rock. In the dim light he could see his victim's head through the sight. ' Poor devil ! ' he muttered to himself, with a smile. ' I'll give him a few more seconds to enjoy life in.* The Indian slackened speed, then began to crawl towards a bush. Half a dozen movements he made, then every muscle in his body tightened with a strange agony. For a second he knelt, as though turned into stone, then dropped over noiselessly, with right side pressing the sand, and head su jpc»rted on his bent arm, as though he had suddenly beci over- come with sleep. And a sleep it was — yet one which leaves the body for ever silent. 84 CHAPTER VI THE BREAKING OF THE DAWN The prisoners had been secured to the last man when Lamont came slowly along the beach. Then Justin tapped the Factor's arm, and said in his usual direct manner, ' Chief coming.' The last navigable birch bark was crossing the river in their direction. When it came closer, the victors perceived two old men huddled together in their blankets, like a couple of dreary crows. The paddle was wielded deftly and gracefully by a young, slender gi: I, who knelt upright in the centre, with her dark hair streaming and tossing behind. Along the east, red light v/as waving and breaking. Misty clouds crept over the forest, to burst in a soaring dew. D^mp air crept from the bosom of the Saskatchewan and made the men shiver. The night was mei^ing into a new day. M'Auliffe rubbed his hands briskly, and peered through the shadowy gloom. ' It's old whisky bottle, sure enough. He a going to tumble to his knee bones and lick m.y shoes.' Lamont was gazing too — but not at the withered 85 1; ! f.i 't ( ' ;■ !l -) I M ^ (fflenofag Chief. 'Who is the girl?' he asked, with slow intonation. The Factor laughed. * She calls herself his daughter. How the shrivelled old hulk can claim to be ner father, darned if I know. She's a daisy, I tell you. If she comes pleading for these fellows with her pretty face held up, and the tears shining in her eyes — well, I shall likely make a fool of myself.* ' What are you going to do with them, anyhow ? ' * Let 'em go, soon as they've sworn not to fight against us again. They're all heathens here, so will stay by their word. I've just fixed them up to scare the old chap, and bring him to his senses. Here they come. You watch me give old whisky bottle a good rubbing down.' Justin came up with the two old men, not speaking but occasionally tapping his rifle with a significant gesture, and grunting loudly. Ahead, Menotah tripped gaily, full as ever of life and happiness, though she had that night seen her tribe more than decimated. She was safe enough ir the hands of white men, who might be cruel, yet who always fell down to worship beauty. Therefore she had twisted a fresh wreath among her black tresses, and volun- teered to lead her father with Antoine to sue for pardon. The girl's bright eyes were, however, quickly attracted and held. Lament, as he stood leaning against a fir, among the shadows slowly turning from black to grey, was a sight good to look upon. He v/as bareheaded, with the cool morning wind passing through his wavy hair. The excitement of the fight 86 $0e Q^reafiing of i^e ^avon k still lingered over his refined face, while a self-satisfied smile round the mouth and a certain tired look in the eyes were both singularly adapted to that clear style of masculine beauty he possessed in no ordinary degree. To her it was as if the sun had just descended from heaven and taken the form of a man. For the first time in her short life she found herself conflict- ing with nervousness. This was of short duration, however. Then she gave him a smiling glance, lightly touching with dainty finger tips the bright wreath which twined along her thick fr * ige. He recalled the scene of the previous evening, and smiled back. This was M'Auliffe's opportunity for asserting his power. Before him stood the Chief, pleading and gesticulating, throwing the blame upon the shoulders of the conveniently absent Riel and his associates, making abundant promises for future obedience. Close by, old Antoine, the real sower of strife, stood wrapped to the chin in his yellow blanket, malevolent and silent. The Factor listened with what he flattered himself was a frown of judicial severity on his genial red face. Then he made a lamentable effort to deliver him- self of fulminations after the manner of the Chiefs grandiloquence. 'You've just gone to work and made everlasting moon-heads of yourselves,' he thundered. 'You've tried to play monkey with the Company, and fix its representatives. You've gone a peg worse, for you've rebelled against the Great Mother.* She's not going * The Queen. 87 T ---' hi Hi ■ ^ ( fflenofgg to stand your fooling, I tell you.* He shook a great fist in the direction of the captives. * Listen herei now. These fellows are all going to be shot under the hour. As you two are bosses, and might feel sort of hurt going along with the crowd, I'm going to let you down soft. All I'm going to do is just string you both up to the big fir 'way side of the fort. May you jump easy ! ' he concluded, with a dim sense of being called upon for commendatory words by way of peroration. The Chief shook like a jelly-stone, while Antoine began to display feeble signs of interest. Then the former trembled to his knees and wailed, * Great Sun, from whom we receive light and food, have pity upon your miserable servants. The wicked rebel Riel, who has dared to fight against the Great Mother, com- manded us to rise and destroy, and who am I to disobey his word ? Pardon us, friend of the Great Spirit. Then I and my children will ever be your slaves.' 'Can't do it,' said M'Auliffe, winking towards Lamont. We feared the vengeance of Riel,' continued the old man, his wrinkled hands beating upon the shingle. * His warriors are many, while the white men are few. Have we not received our punishment ? The best of the tribe are already cold with death. To-night, round the tents will be heard the voice of weeping; maidens will mourn for lover or father; old men, who bear the scars of life trouble, will lay their white hair in the dirt when the pride of their age is borne to the tent. Instead of music and the dance, there will be 88 I V ! I f : t^e Qgreftfttng of f 0e I II ia,n Jli "it ^ (3JUnofa0 high up on the bony forehead, a small, rounded fissure, she gave a sad little cry of recognition. * This is the skull of a white man. But his story was a very sad one.' * Who was he ? ' cried Lamont, in surprise. * I never saw him alive. But when he lay dead, I washed the dry blood from his face. That was eight years ago, when I was very young. See 1 here is the place where the bullet passed.* ' Who was he ? ' repeated Lamont, in lower tones. ' He came from the Spirits' passing place.* His name was Sinclair.' * Sinclair ! ' he muttered to himself. ' Pshaw ! it's the commonest name of the Province.' Then to the girl, * Who shot him ? ' * He had an enemy who was a coward. He tracked him down through the forest as you would follow a moose. One evening Sinclair was resting and smoking his pipe. Then this other man crept up and shot him through the bushes.' Lamont moistened his lips. ' Did he escape ? ' Menotah shook her head gladly. 'They caught him, and the warriors tied him to a tree, then shot at him with arrows. Some day I will show you that tree. But he was a coward. He cried for mercy when the women tied his arms.' ' But he was only doing his duty,' argued Lamont, with his careless air. 'You say that vengeance is necessary.' ' But I would never steal upon my enemy and shoot him down. That is the act of a man who * Manitoba. So called from its derivation, Manitou-toopah. I02 n Z^t Zvtt of (gnomfeb ge .^^ fears to fight. I would meet him face to face. Perhaps Sinclair had never done this man an injury after all.' Then she laughed in her happy manner, and set the skull carefully in the cleft of a stunted kanikanik bush. She turned to him and laid a small hand on his arm. * You would not act as he did,' she said. He looked at the little fingers curved upon his coat sleeve. Then he placed his hand over and held them. ' Then you do not think me a coward ? ' * You I ' she said slowly. ' No, you are a brave man, who would fight until death for any you loved.' ' For you ? ' he said, bending his head to the soft, waving tresses. * And even after death ; your soul would pro- tect me.' He drew a little back and laughed scornfully. ' Do you believe in such a thing ? ' She lifted her face, which was animated with belief. ' You may see it ; on the winter's day the shadowy vapour rises to the lips and escapes in breath. You cannot tell where it goes to. But it is the soul.' She stopped and glanced half shyly. * Go on,' he said. * In the summer we do not need to see it. Then everything is alive and happy. But in the dreary winter the Spirit shows itself to our eyes. Then we may know the higher life stirs within us, though the world is dead. Shall I tell you any more?' She stood like the child repeating a well-known lessen. Her fingers twisted within his, and she lowered her eyes. He passed his arm round the 103 I :i { ; naHfMkiM'ir*'* i m ' j.-ji , ^ » t^ j i>- f:;:l slight figure, and drew her from the shadow of the death tree. * It is gloomy here ; let us go out to the sunshine.* * Then I must go. I have to bring the old Chief to mourn at the grave.' Her manner changed quickly as she continued, * I don't think you believe in me.' He laughed outright. * Have I said so ? Don't you think I would keep any promise I made you ? ' They stopped in the dimly-marked forest trail, and he drew her to him. She looked up quickly, sighed, then passed her right arm impulsively across to his shoulder. Her long hair, floating unbound, caressed the hand that held her waist. 'Yes,' she faltered, with a strange little laugh, 'for you are brave.' The light darted into her lustrous eyes, and her small mouth twitched. He placed his hand beneath her chin and raised her graceful head as he bent his own down. Her quick breathing fanned his face. * Your promise,' he whispered. Then the sun- light disappeared. Later, a strange procession started from the fort. Winton's body lay uncovered on resinous pine branches, the ends of which were sustained by the shoulders of M'AuHffe and the half-breed. At a short distance behind walked Lamont, smoking carelessly. The grave had been dug about fifty paces from the door. Arriving there, they placed the body upon the ^rass, v/hile the Factor mopped his fore- 104 Z^e ^ree of QKnoiDfebge ^ 13 sun- head and remarked upon the weather. He was grinning broadly, as a necessary covering to his real feelings. Subsequently he confided to Lamont that he had been compelled to recall the most humorous incidents connected with his past career as a pre- ventive to foolish signs of grief Justin stood by stolidly, and spat into the grave. 'Shouldn't wonder if we didn't get an electric storm presently,' observed the Factor. There was no reply to this attempt at conversation. * What'll we do now?' he continued, smiling expansively. Justin grunted, then pointed expressively to the dark hole surrounded by fresh grass. * Plant him, eh ? well, I guess so. Got any ropes ? ' There were none handy, so the half-breed went off to the store for some. The Factor filled the interval by relating a ludicrous anecdote for his companion's benefit, and chopping a pipeful of plug. When Justin returned, ropes were passed round the leafy bier and the body was lowered by concerted effort. Then M'Auliffe lit his pipe, and knocked his great boots together clumsily. He looked across at Lamont, leaning against the tree which shadowed the open grave. ' How are you on the prayer racket?' he blurted forth. The young man shook his head and muttered something unintelligible. ' Seems kind of hard to cover the boy up and get off without saying a word, don't it ? Say, Justin, can't you do something that way?' The half-breed chewed and grunted a negative. :- ,f .1-1 III U '\ I! / ^ (fflenofgg Then there was unpleasant silence, which was finally broken by the rustling of bushes. The old Chief appeared, leaning on his daughter's arm. They both paused, silent, at the brink. Menotah's arms were overflowing with delicate, half-opened buds of the forest rose, and these pink and white blossoms — re- calling faded life pleasures of the past — she com- menced to drop softly upon the body beneath. ' Goldam ! ' muttered the Factor, ' I wish I knew what to say, and how to put it.' Suddenly his reflection was broken by the pure music of a young voice, which rang sweetly out upon the air. An ignorant soul poured forth a message to the unknown God. The heathen girl performed an office which the Christian men shrank from. Menotah was kneeling, her fair face raised to the clear blue of the sky, her chin resting lightly upon brown finger tips. 'Great Spirit, listen to the words of a daughter Thou knowest not, and grant her that for which she prays. The evil one has stolen the life from this body and has carried it to the cold shadow land. Do not Thou permit him to harm the body that we loved. If Thou hast the power to conquer the wicked spirit, take away that body and place him in the wide fields of summer, where the devils may not live, and where the souls of the mighty sweep over the flowering grass, like cloud shadows on a bright day. Per- chance Thou art not able to hear my prayer, for I am but the child of another god. But if Thou canst hear me, I pray Thee hearken to my words, and grant him happiness for ever in the Land of the Sun.' 1 06 . »F-,«» ^ - ^ — 1.*. ^ ^0e Zvee of ( gnon?febge ^ M'AuHfife scratched his beard nervously; Lament smiled ; Justin commenced to fill in the grave. But the old Chief shuffled aside, and muttered slowly, * It is not well to call upon the God of the white men. He has conquered our gods in the fight. Perchance he may now turn the blood to water in our veins.' Towards evening Justin paddled across to the island to bring off a miserable figure, who had long been sending forth a loud but ineffectual appeal for rescue. The half-breed delivered himself of but a single opinion, and that was when Denton lurched nervously into the birch bark, half upsetting it. He crossed his wad to the opposite cheek, and remarked, 'You no good.' Then he wielded his paddle and shot the canoe swiftly across the river. The ex-minister had plenty of cool assurance when he knew his body was in no particular danger. Also his courage was stimulated by hunger, so he walked to the door of the fort, and at once came upon the Factor and Lamont, who were seated within. The former raised his head and said indifferently, ' It's you, Peter, eh?' ' I've come back again, Alfred,' said the other, composedly. * And — ' * Quit your dirty noise, now. You can swear in churches, if folks are fools enough to let you, but darn me if you play double face here. If you begin to talk, I shall start fighting. Then I reckon you'd wish you were back in your hiding-place. You're a cowardly devil, Peter, if ever there was one.* 107 :! 14 - — I ikH I'll BIT- ^ (tttenofa^ 1 ! Ominous red streaks appeared on Denton's sallow face. He prepared to cast back a reply. * Not a word. I tell you, if you talk back at me, it'll go jad for you.' He started up and dragged the wretch to the door. Then he pointed to a dark mound of soil ahead. * See that ? that's where we've just planted young Winton, who was as much a man as you're a hound. They fixed him last night when you were skulking in the bush.' He pulled off Denton's hat and threw it on the ground. 'You're a murderer, Peter, and darned if I care who hears me say it. If you'd had the spirit of a woman, young Winton wouldn't have been lying out there.' Then he took Denton by the shirt collar and pulled him outside. Here he turned upon him again. 'See here, now, there isn't room for the two of us in this fort. One's got to get, and I reckon that'll be you.' Denton's watery eyes grew malevolent. ' You can't turn me out — ' ' Quit your row. I don't care where you get, only don't come round here again. Just take your fixings and lift your feet out' * I'm in the service of the Company same as you,' cried Denton, showing his teeth. 'You've no right-' 'You talk about that, and I'll put my arms round you. I reckon you'd stand a good show then. You've done an almighty lot to protect the Com- pany's interests. Anyway, I'm Chief Factor here, so out you go.' 1 08 lU'^wtf 1' *^.»f ^ »' . . ..,—->-.. .. -«>-i.-,^».^..— ^— ^»■.^.■■^.■«^_ ^■ ii«it~Vt*lli'T • •AMt^ 'rfM±.%W- ^^e €tee of (gnon)febge ^ Denton set his back to the door, with white, angry face. ' Your time of reckoning will come,' he muttered, falling into his usual fanatical mood. ' Yours is here right now,' returned M'Auliffe, drily. * Get, now ! ' It did not take the ex-minister more than a few minutes to collect the few articles he could call his own. Then he reappeared in the office with his small bundle. Justin was bringing the supper. The other two were talking and sitting on the dilapidated sofa. Not one took the slightest notice of him. But the outcast had no idea of departing without a final word, so when he was safely on the threshold, he paused to attack his old enemy. * You've always been a tough sinner, M'Aulifife. I reckon you can't keep it up much longer. Your sins will soon find you out.' 'Yours'll find you out, when they next call round here,' said the Factor. ' Get outside, now. It makes me tired to look at you.' The ex-minister stepped over the threshold, but paused to deliver a final message. * You are a bad crowd, a terrible bad crowd — I've never seen a worse. But it's my duty to pray for you. I will pray for you all.' A shout of laughter followed his footsteps. Even Justin almost smiled. 'Well, well,' cried M'Auliffe, slapping his knee heavily, * I reckon that was Peter's last curse.' 109 i f" 1 : i i U i ij Hi 1 1 m i ^ i ■ ft'.' ! r ■ i )■ ■i 1 CHAPTER II THE COMING OF DAVE In the early morning there was excitement at the fort, for the isolated inhabitants were soon to be placed in contact with the outer world. The H. B. boat, which, in the summer season, made periodic trips from Selkirk to the Great Saskatchewan, had entered the river, and was steaming heavily towards the uneven and broken platform of logs which con- stituted a landing stage. As usual, news of the arrival came through the medium of the keen-sighted Justin. The excitable Factor clapped a hand over Lamont's arm, and dragged him forth in shirt and breeches to where the white waves rushed and bubbled, covered with foam of broken force. Here they waited for news from the world and sight of other fellow creatures. Spray dashed up the slimy logs, while a strong river breeze made the morning chilly. M'Auliffe blew into his hands vigorously, always keeping his gaze on the green screen of firs, round which the boat might any moment appear. •Goldam! I reckon the crazy ark's travelled to the bottom,' he cried lustily. no Z ^e ComirxQ of %ave S^ 'The river's running strong. Listen to the roar of the rapids,' said his companion. ' Justin sighted her at the second bend, and she's not round yet. Us two could pull the lump of wood along in less time. Goldam ! there she is ! That's her old nose coming round.' The black boat crawled round the bend slowly, with two lines of foam parting before her keel. Then the watchers distinguished the coarse features of a man standing in the bows. He held, and occasionally waved as an entirely unnecessary signal, a small and much torn flag. The Factor rubbed his hands excitedly. 'It's Dave Spencer, making a fool of himself as usual. Now we'll have to get to work and pump the news out of him. Dave's bad on telling things, though it's in his head all the time. It's like dropping a bucket down a deep well getting anything out of him.' He placed a hand to his mouth and shouted, HO; there, Dave ! ' The Captain grinned widely, but replied only by a more vigorous wave of the tattered ensign. ' Thinks a wonderful lot of his breath, don't he ? ' grumbled the Factor. ' Now, if it had been Angus, he'd have started in to talk 'way back at the mouth. He don't care if no one hears him. Talks just for the pleasure of letting his tongue work ! ' The boat turned in mid-stream, slightly above the stage, then drew down cautiously, the captain bawling deep - toned commands, interlarded with epithets. Presently a rope swung uncoiling through ni I i i !iii i' ! I i'': ^ (fflenofgg f->. Ml ' 1 1 the air. This was eagerly snatched at by the Factor. Then the boat was made fast and Dave stepped ashore, mail bag in hand. M'Aulifife gripped him by the arm at once. ' Now, then, Dave, let's have it ! ' • What's the racket ? ' asked the other composedly, beating his legs. ' I tell you, Alf, it's ter'ble cold on the water this morning. The wind's a terror.* ' You derned old oyster 1 ' spluttered the Factor. * Open up your chin bag, and put us up to what's been going on.' * It's wonderful cold for the time of year, sure. How's yourself, Alf? ' ' Going to consumption for wanting to pound your head off. See here, Dave ! What's been the latest south ? ' 'Quite a lot,' said Dave, imperturbably, drawing a big bundle of soiled newspapers from the buckskin bag. 'Let's hear,' cried M'Auliffe, clutching the parcel hungrily. Dave meditated, while he kicked up splinters from the rotting logs. ' There's old man Roberts. You mind him, Alf?' The Factor nodded, while Dave continued carelessly, ' He's tumbled off the perch. All his truck went by auction. I bought up his white pony — one he used to ride every day, summer or winter. He was a queer old chap, warn't he, Alf? I'd meet him crawling along the fence of his half section, wrapped up in all the rags he could lay claws on, if 'twas winter. His old jaws would be shifting, and the 112 sure. t^e Coming of *•• ** ,»* y ^«'^«t» •■-■ '^1 5 I! 11 i )l »fi ^ 1 CHAPTER III THE RIVALS Ignoring the prerence of his rival, Lament passed aside and entered the scrub bush which fringed the odorous forest. But, noiseless and agile as the over- head chipmunk, Muskwah followed in his track, scarce ever ceasing from his melodious and heart- felt appeal. Since he played the part of suppliant, he argued with his opponent without heat, though passion might not be denied. He invoked the higher sense of right. Surely only the Indian was fit mate for the Indian. Where would be the ' heart of joy ' when the brain had been touched by fancy, the mind spoilt in imagination ? Love was the choicest gift of the Heelhi-Manitou, a thing not to be lightly taken, and never to be cast aside as worth- less. In such manner he pleaded, with all the native picturesque imagery of word expression and imagina- tion. At length Lamont turned upon him in anger. * What about the night of the fight ? Perhaps you don't know that my rifle was once sighted for your heart. A motion of the finger, and you would have gone to your fantastic paradise. But I spared 120 1 tH (gitjafe ^o' you, for you were more of the man than your followers.' Not a muscle stirred along Muskwah's stolid countenance. ' The gift which is unsought is no gift. Mayhap I might even now be happier, had you sent my soul to join those who fell in death. For with one hand you have held out life, yet with the other have you taken away its light.' ' So now you follow me with the request that I should give you that which is as much mine as yours. You seek Menotah's love — ' 'Surely!' broke in the Indian, with a fury of passion. ' What other woman is there who can so stir the heart within a man ? Who would not die for her favour, or fight for her love ? ' A snee r crossed Lamont's face, while his eyes grew cold. The keen-sighted Indian marked the change. * Let not the white chief mock at my poor words. It is the heart that speaks, and the tongue must obey the thought. The white chiet knows that my love is for Menotah, that my life joy lies at the utterance of her voice. He would not take away the sun, the day shine, and leave only the black night of despair.' ' Wouldn't he ? ' said Lamont, coolly. ' Why not ? ' * Because he is merciful,' cried Muskwah, clasping his sinewy hands. ' Every man may love, yet none may resign the heart already bound.' Lamont laughed. ' What a sickly sentiment,' he muttered carelessly. The eyes of the Indian flashed, while his bosom heaved. He raised his hands, with head erect, in 121 •1 I 1 I »;: ^ ( fflenofg^ a pose of proud defiance. Then in a soft monotone he poured forth the emotional phrases of his heart, — There is yet the great truth, which is spirit sent, behind my weak words. Listen, white chief, while I teach you the power of love. When I was a stripling youth around the tents, before I was of age to be made brave, often would I cast eye of longing on some fair maiden as she passed. So when her eyes met mine with silent message, the heart would bound within, and I called it love. Yet it was not so, since the pain would die down, while the wound would leave no scar. Then many moons grew round and faded in their light as the young Menotah passed from childhood to youth. Her beauty opened like the flower bud moistened by the softness of light, and painted with the coloured breath of morning. For those the gods love are beautiful, and the seasons bring them gifts. So was it with Menotah. To her, spring came with heart of joy, and summer with a smile ; fair blush, gift of autumn, and winter last with health. * But as I watched her, with wonder that the Spirit could make anything so beautiful, my whole being fled away as the soul at time of death. Where the heart had once throbbed lurked a living flame, which burnt by day and night and grew ever fiercer. So I waited for that fire to burn out, as it had done before. During the clear day, when the strength rose high and I tracked the muskawk or snared the wolf, I thought I was once again master of my life. But as night rose and stillness crept through the tents, the limbs sank in weariness and the fire returned to burn 122 away manly strength and courage. With it, also, came the loneliness and a great longing. So I knew that this was love, the sickness that knows not healing. I knew that the fire would burn, unless desire were satisfied, until there should be nothing left to consume, until life reason should have passed, and loneliness be satisfied in the silence.' They stood together beneath the softly stirring pine branches, where the green-tinted sunlight stabbed down in narrow rays. Civilised and bar- barian almost ; cultured and the untaught. Yet surrounding Nature might have hesitated in choosing out the Man. Lamont slunk away sullenly. * I have no wish to hear your wild love songs. The feelings are things to be repressed, not blasted into the ears of those who do not wish to listen.' The Indian turned too, and with growing passion caught him by the arm. * I but follow the teaching of my own mind. A man must obey the love call, though the world rise to hold him back.' Muskwah spoke from his own by no means narrow philosophy. The workings of the world were cer- tainly beyond his understanding; the ways of Nature he was in close touch with. He was pushing dimly towards one definite aim in life. The Chief was tottering to his death. When the funeral smoke had cleared, he might well be chosen head of the tribe. Power he cared not for, except as a path which might lead to happiness. For none but the heart which knew not sorrow* could be the Chief's • Such is the literal translation of 'Menotah.' 123 <■'- ''. :Ji m iii I "I % t^ - 1 j,l bride, and she, Menotah, would surely give all that a man could wish for. The Chief had placed his footsteps in the right direction, and, in the callous Indian sex love, had regarded the young warrior with special favour. Indeed, he had bidden him plead his own cause, but the lover's bashfulness could not be overcome. Whenever she passed, he trembled beneath the bright gaze. But then came the message from Riel and the subsequent stm'^gle, where Lamont had appeared, surrounded i nost with the mystery of a god. Menotah beheld the skill and courage of the handsome white. Such things are pleasing to women. She had looked rpon the one conquered and rope bound ; the other victorious and con- fident. The latter had addressed her with the soft voice that maidens love ; the former was ignorant of 3uch love artifice. Moreover, she had cast at the white man smiling glances, for which the Indian would have dared the fire and mocked the powers above. And yet the wide world course lies open to all. Prizes are set in the open, but they are few and the competitors many. The strongest, most eloquent, highest in skill, take of the best, while the multitude fight for the poor consolations remaining. Muskwah still held Lamont back. His flashing eyes and passioned face were not to be safely trifled with. ' I love,' he cried blindly. ' Nothing can heal the wound, or soften that suffering. Were Menotah to strike me down in death, I should fall blessing her. Lamont tried to free his arm, but the Indian's 124 '-t .-3 *A»lt-».^ ^-^i VI »»■«■■>,- *, r*'-t- • •■■. • /rwAw-rw .,**.vk»a^ that t^e Cgtt>af6 ^ fingers closed it round like steel springs. * You are a fighter and hunter. Keep your strength, and do not waste it in the arms of a woman.* 'The white chief is also a warrior. When the blood runs hot, the heart may thirst for nothing but war and power. But when the fight is done, and darkness creeps around, he stretches forth his limbs in the tent and calls for love.' Lamont feared lest the impetuous lover should again burst into his passion song. He made a quick movement, released himself, then stepped back. ' I am going,' he said coolly. * But I will first tell you that if you would win Menotah, you must plead for yourself — and against me.' The judgment was that of Nature. When the object of a careless affection is about to pass to another's ownership, desire becomes a passion. It is only the prize which seems irrevocably lost that remains a thing of perfect beauty ; it is the realisa- tion of an ideal that is an imperfect happiness. Lamont had been attracted by Menotah's artless beauty, her joyous laughter, and caressing ways. Satisfied with the fact that she Icved him, her favours yet failed to stir t' 3 fire of his heart into a higher gl(>w than admiration. But now that an Indian rival breathed opposition, the smouldering flame leapt up into fierce heat, and Menotah possessed two lovers. The ghastly pallor, which in the Indian takes the place of the red anger flush, altered the dark hue of his features. * Perhaps the white man spoke with- out thought. For why should he leave his own 125 i |;:l ^^■:iiii I ^'i hfh 111' .: I' ^ (fflenofgg cities, to choose a bride from the lowly tents of the Cree? For him there is the wide world to choose from. But I have only this one hope, and it is more to me than the beauty of the world. I will listen again for an answer.' ' I have spoken,' said Larnont, stubbornly. ' I have no more to say.' Then the Indian started forward suddenly, with vengeance in his face. * Yet there is something beside. There is an oath. Swear that you will never speak to her on the heart's pain. Swear by the Spirit. Swear that you will not enter into her life.' Lamont stepped against a straight pine, confident in his strength. ' Diable s'en mele!' he muttered. Then to the Indian, 'Get back to the encampment, you crazy fool.' Passion raged along every muscle of the grey- dark face. He cast aside control over voice and actions. ' Am I to lose Menotah after spending my life for her ? You shall swear.' He came excitedly forward, with arms outreaching. Two crows flapped heavily in the tree summits, with dismal croakings. ' Another step this way,' said Lamont, coolly, ' one more step, and the crows will have you. Your eyes will never see Menotah again.' Yet he knew this threat was useless, for he under- stood the Indian character, which is a thing ruled by momentary flashes of strong impulse. The mental anarchy of the uncivilised mind is short-lived, yet overwhelming in consequence. The untrained body leaps from devotion to animosity, from obedience to 126 all t^e (git>afB ^ open rebellion, in a moment. So with Muskwah, revenge was just then a higher passion than love. As the anger-fire smouldered in his dark eyes, the long brown fingers worked towards the keen- edged knife, and he glided forward with the quick cunning of the grass snake. Lament smiled, while the sure right hand darted to his side. Half fronting he stood, with the left elbow crooked. But there was no descending flash of a bright muzzle, no sharp report, no dusky rival writiiing in death alonpr the moss. He was absolutely unarmed ! At Justin's sudden entrance with the news of the boat arrival, the impetuous Factor had pulled him out without allow- ing time for complete equipment. Those weapons behind which he was a lion of courage were lying in the fort. He stood alone, confronted by a merciless rival, in the lonely forest of the Saskatchewan. Still here was opportunity for displaying that vaunted courage of the all-conquering white before one of the defeated. He might stand up against him and fight with the natural weapons of despair, aided perhaps by the withered branch snapped from the near pine with strength of necessity. This Indian should be shown how fearlessly the white man co'jld face danger or death. With a shrill cry, Muskwah sprang at him. He staggered back a pace, blenching from the uplifted knife — then ra'i, with all the speed of his limbs, with all the white fear of the pursued. The display of cowardice was needless, for the 127 111 ' ,j ii hi' 1. ' 1 > I . i 1- |l 11 - III i i\- ^ ( fflenofftg Indian rapidly overtracked him. Lament turned suddenly, with the horror of feeling the cold slush of the knife in his back, and dropped to his knees. He was seized by the shoulders ; he clutched his enemy by the body. So together they fought in the solitude, while the sun revolved up the heavens, and the summer heat grew towards noon. Purple butterflies flashed uncon- cernedly in the greenish light over their heads ; the blood-red kanikanik wands nodded ; locusts whirred and hurled themselves strongly against the sweating bodies of the combatants. The beauty of Nature environed the hot human passions. On the extreme summit of a feather-pine, the carrion crows croaked and rocked in the soft breeze. Muskwah's natural strength, aided by passion, which disregarded life safety, prevailed at length. His rival lay beneath his hands, pressed upon the white, flowering moss, his face rigid with increasing fear. The victor's bosom rose and fell exultantly. ' The Spirit has given you into my power, and bidden me take revenge. Gaze for the last time on the world light, white man, before I draw darkness across your eyes with my knife.' Lamont glared upward despairingly. The hands that held him trembled with the mighty flood of restrained anger. A knife quivered in hot white circles between his eyes and the furious face of his opponent. All his subtle resource in emergency rose in a mighty effort for preservation of life. There was still ia8 I kL ( fflenotag nont turned cold slush of 5 knees. He d his enemy de, while the summer heat ashed uncon- their heads ; led ; locusts '• against the de beauty of Dns. On the :arrion crows by passion, at length. :d upon the ;h increasing intly. * The bidden me In the world [ness across The hands ^ty flood of hot white face of his rose in a jre was still LAMONT GLARKl) UP DESPAIRINGLY. -I M ill ■''4 ■: I I I Fa£e 128. 1 a move to be made ; desperate, but yet of possible success. lie must pit his trained mind knowledge and power of will against the weak determination and brain of inexperience. He was a splendid actor. So he nerved himself and laughed aloud. Surprise partially disarmed the victor of his blind anger. Then came the words which caused his grip to loosen, — * Pshaw ! I will in a word take away strength from your arm. You dare not kill me.' Muskwah stared upon the lively face of scorn, his own working in perplexity. 'Tell me why I should spare you,' he said wonderingly. The answer came with a slow, cruel deliberation, ' Menotah loves me.' He felt the finger clutch on his throat unfasten, as an overstrained necklet. He watched the light of knowledge dawning upon the heavy features. He had fired his shot, as at invisible foes under cover of night. Now he must follow up his words and make his advantage sure. By his murder there would be nothing beyond the mere satisfaction of revenge. But Menotah would mourn and wear sorrow upon her 'heart of joy.' The Indian had declared entire devotion, yt^t he was now thirsting to perform an act which must surely bring suffering into her life. More, she might even learn, through the process of chance, whose hand it had been that had destroyed the life of him she loved. 'Kill me, you destroy your own happiness; I .! di ' t &> t ,' ■■ - ' ■'■■■■•I spare my life — you may yet win her who has your love.' Such arguments dashed against a weak knowledge to the overwhelming of desperation's anger. To the heart came well-nigh relinquished memories of self- pride and future hope. The dull brain spoke plainly. By satisfying longing for vengeance, he would banish into the impossible all life happiness. By ex- tinguishing rhe flame of life he destroyed the light in Meno^ah's eyes. That which she approved was sacred, even though a rival. So he lifted his simple head, with the understanding that his opponent's words had brought salvation to three lives. It was again the triumph of the tongue. Muskwah sbepthed the long knife. 'Now you shall sweai- to leave this land, and return to your own place. Bt,hold the black boat lies upon the waters, and in her you sViall sail away, even as I said. You have scood at the outer door of life, while I was by your side ready to cast you into whirling vapour. Down you must have fallen, shadow amid shadows, while I might have gazed into the nether gloom, then stepped back to the life world. Will you swear not? Surely you shall return thither again. Then shall I come back alone. You are teaching me the ways of the world, white man.' Sullenly Larnont struggled to a sitting posture. In the dim voice of hatred he muttered, ' I will swear to depart from this place, and never more speak of love to Mcnotah. That is the price I am to pay for life ? ' tjo your t^e (gtt>afg ^ • By the Great Spirit, the Totem of your being, the Light and Darkness, the River, and your own Gods,' chanted the Indian in his deep monotone.* So Lamont swore. * To the heathen Indian, an oath such as this is absolutely infrancj ible. The converted native quickly comes to treat a sacred promi.^e with the easy elasticity of other Christians ! Ill I ■ ' m '•^.fr^^' * \ '• fi' i'". ■ I i CHAPTER IV WHITE WINS A distant but threatening thunder murmur broke from the heart of a bank of sulphurous clouds beat- ing closely over the south. The deep sound rolled over the water and seemed to bury itself in the trembling ground. Then a serpent of fire writhed along the fringe of the cloud mass and disappeared, followed by another sullen roar. It was a strange evening of wild colour and intense calm. Nothing in Nature stirred, except the wide stream of tinted waves. Sound there was ab- solutely none along the stifling atmosphere. Even mosquitoes were quiescent, and frogs silent. Lariiont came slowly towards the fort, threading a sinuous course among the black rock shapes. Every slight noise, such as the swishing aside of kanikaniks, the scraping of boot against stone, the crisp crackling of dry grass, became abnormal in that profound quiet. There was something almost ghastly in this terrific silence which could only precede some unnatural tumult. * An electric storm,' he muttered. The whispered words became a shriek, and echoed back from the dark trees on the opposite bank. On such a night m.'h ^^iie foine ^ one might well shrink from even thought; for the silent action of the mind seemed able to create a derangement in the atmosphere. But as he approached the fort, there were no lack of disturbing sounds. The Factor and Dave were sampling black H. B. and playing poker. Such things were never intended to be performed in silence. The two within made no attempt to infringe upon the rule of custom. The solitary man came across the open space, longing for a breath of air, which might alter, if even for a moment, the statuesque rigidity of the pines, and break the panorama into shifting life. He rounded a jagged spar, and suddenly came upon the two horses, pulling at long tufts of grass that shot upward from damp recesses at the roots of the rock. His appearance brought animation to the scene. The c 'ey mare started and shivered, then sprang aside, her ears back, her mouth fiercely open. Lamont came nearer, and she twisted her neck to bring the single eye to bear upon the disturber of peace. When she beheld who it was, she again wheeled and lashed forth violently with her ragged hoofs. He sprang aside behind the rock with a startled oath, while Kitty cantered to the forest with many a frightened snort. The black horse followed. With a distinct feeling of satisfaction that no witnesses had been present, Lamont walked to the door of the fort. As he entered, M'Aulifife's deep tones struck jeeringly against his ear, — 133 ^11 i ^n 't: It] ■•i'i\ |! 1 ■'iii'l *.t i -'■■: i^i. ^il I |!j W ' ^ (gtenofgg * Three solid old women and a brace cf bullets, Davey ! No, lad, it's no use your trying to bluff a hair off my whiskers. Fixed you this time, sure. Jackpot, Davey ! ' Five sticky cards dribbled from thp Captain's shaking hand. 'You're a teaser, Alf,' he muttered thickly, speaking down his pipe. ' I'm water-logged, right enough. So let's ha' a drink.' M'Auliffe's huge hand closed round the bottle neck. You derned old tree-partridge ! You didn't ieckon there was a full house this side. Can't fool me with your measly flushes.' The black liquor fell with a gurgle and splash into cracked glasses. Then Lamont came inside and seated himself. * Come and take the pictures,' invited the Factor, genially. * I've just cleaned out Davey here, and spoiling for another draw. Davey can't shake cards worth shucks.' 'Your opinion ain't up to a monkey's grin,' returned Dave, dogmatically. 'There's too many words and not enough sense for me.' ' It's all too deep for you, lad. That's the blessed fact. Your chip of brain was only allowed you for a bit of a show. 'Tisn't for use, Davey, and don't you make any mistake. Maybe there's enough to hold you outside an asylum, but it's a narrow margin, and wants careful looking after.' ' I ain't no Solomon,' said Dave, after a hearty sip at the ink-like compound. • Reckon it's safer to be a fool than a wise man, Alf. A moonhead can say a slick thing once in a while and be none the 134 1 I ! T3?9tfe njing 5<^ i worse, but darned if a clever chap can cut didoes. 'T wouldn't pay him by a jugful.' Lamont sat in a corner and absorbed his brandy with slow gulps. ^ subtle scheme was simmering in his brain, which the fiery liquor now awoke to full activity. Presently he rose, then began to clean his deadly rifle. M'Aulifife was in splendid humour. He puffed out his beard, and slapped his chest comfortably. ' Nothing like a few drops of real stuff,' he proclaimed generally. ' 'Bout an hour's time 1 11 feel like talk- ing nice.' * Mind old Captain Robinson ? ' chimed in Dave. * Lots of whiles I've started in to talk with him. When he got to reckon he was in for a brain- squeezer, he'd sort of wi.ik sideways, and say, •' Bide here a while, Dave, while fetch in something from the house." I'd just creep after and hear the chink of a bottle and glass at work. He always works up his talk that way. Then he'd be back, with the words fairly dropping off his tongue like a dog-sweat, " Now, Dave, you're wrong, and I'll tell you how." * Then he'd settle right down for the hour. Wonder- ful fond of his own noise, was Captain. Never gave anyone else a bit of a show. * I diddled him once,' chuckled Dave. ' We started in one day, least Captain did, till I fairly ached for a bit of chin- work. So I just pulled out a good cigar and handed it over sort of careless, 'though I didn't care if he took it or not. Captain can't ever refuse a cigar, so he stretched out for it, aW the time talking for what he was worth. Then I brought out a match, I3S 1 .1' : i 'T : i 1 1 ' \ g 1 V '^ U3i pulled it along my pants, and held it over. He was a bit anxious and suspicious like, for he seemed to sort of think he was letting me in. Anyway he stuck his head up and tried to catch a light without stopping his bandy. 'Tvasn't his racket that journey. A dose of smoke just travelled nice down his throat. Before he could swallow, I came right in and said, " Mow, Captain, I'm going to show you where you make a mistake." I talked then till I got into a sweat, and my throat was dry as a hot pea. But I diddled him, sure.' ' You did so,' assented the Factor. * Captain's a bad listener. He's got no use for doses of his own poison.' Outside, the greyness which follows the deep colour- ing of the sunset was slowly assuming a darker hie, across which darted every few seconds a pale bl ae flash light. M'Auliffe lit a greasy lamp with unsteady hands and replaced the smoked glass. Lamont sat silent, with the weapon lying across his knees, scarcely taking heed of the conversation going on beside him, until Dave suddenly struck a note of more immediate interest. * No harm come to the gal, Alf ? ' * Reckon you mean Menotah. Darn it, Dave, do you think we'd fix a woman ? * Accidents,' suggested Dave. ' She's right enough, eh?' * Course. I'd spoil the man who harmed her, I reckon.' * She's a daisy ! ' said the Captain, fervently. 'Twist her hair up some crazy way, hang a fine 136 V ny^if e n)ins ^ dress around her, and she'd knock the spots off any at Garry. She's a peach blossom, sure ! I don't mind telling you straight, Alf, I'm thinking of doing the gal a first-class honour. I tell you, I'm going to make her Mrs Spencer. She's worth the honour, and don't you forget it, Alf.' Lamont flashed a contemptuous glance at the insignificant speaker, while M'Auliffe burst into a lusty roar of laughter, and slapped his great thigh repeatedly. 'Don't see what you're quirking at,' said Dave, sulkily. ' Ain't she good enough, Alf? ' •She's eighteen carat, 'Twas something else bothering me, Dave. I tell you, Davey, she's a girl of taste.' * Well, what's the matter with me ? ' asked the other surlily. * A looking glass would tell you straight. There's one t'other room. You're not so bad, Dave, now I come to think on it. But you don't make much of a picture to look at' He doubled up and laughed again, while the sickly light darted across the window. Dave sat back with an injured air. * Gals are too darned particular. Many a one I've tried to hitch on to, but they've always broken loose and gone after someone else with dollars, or a different twist to the nose from mine.' * Never mind, Davey,' said the Factor, encourag- ingly. ' There'll be some old woman waiting on you presently, with a beauty show certificate.' The Captain swore. * There's no finding out what 137 :~ !t^! I'i^ ^' 'll ;! 1 !' f they're driving at. One gal now — Elsie they called her — I felt pretty well sure of. She seemed to kind of catch on, so I thought 'twas just a case of picking when I wanted. One Sunday I made up a few nice sentences, with a sort of poetry jingle. Chose a soft grass spot, I did, tumbled on my knee bones, and asked her if she'd hold on to me. Well, she thought, 'bout as cool as though I'd asked her to name her drink, then said she reckoned the invest- ment wouldn't be profitable enough. That's the v/ay they all go. I never gave her another chance, bet you, Alf.' Then they fell back to their poker playing. The night drew on, while the power of the electric storm grew mightier and more awful. So another two hours passed. Inside the fort, the yellow lamp light flickered dully within a soot-covered glass. Its use was superfluous, as the incessant lightning kept the room flooded in a wild radiance. Without, the stupendous silence was appalling — a silence amid the crashing and roar of the heavr'ns, which but threw the dreadful intervals into more powerful relief. It was undoubtedly a furious storm, yet not a pine branch stirred, not a grass stem quivered, not a speck of dust travelled in airy course ; a feather would scarce have found air to float it ; the waters of the Saskatchewan coiled in sluggish circles like oil. Still, from a thousand points of the copper-coloured sky, lightning streamed and twisted in furious revelry, before disappearing in a flood of angry contortions as fresh fire darted into the dead wake. Then that fearful pause of silence 138 1 1 *W9ife njtng ^ indescribable. After, dull booming of distant artillery, or waspish whinings of kettledrums. From the forest limit sped Menotah, with cloak drawn over her hair, hurrying for the shelter of the fort. She held a rough willow box, which she anxiously opened when she reached the clearing. The electric light darted down and converted the contents into a liquid flood of red light. From side to side the breathless life streamed, crossing and recrossing in waving threads of gold. This was safe, so she darted across the open, shrank from a descend- ing flame, which hissed between her body and the door, then entered boldly, though half dazed and breathing quickly. Sprawling across the table, his huge head lying upon his hands, she beheld the Chief Factor, mumbling in incoherent phrases. Opposite, bolt upright, balanced on an insecure box and sucking at an empty pipe, appeared Dave Spencer, howling in his coarse voice some unintelligible song and beating time with an empty bottle which dribbled down his arm. The girl's bright eyes passed from one to the other, .vhile presently she began to laugh softly at the two unmeaning comedians. Lamont, in the corner, with elbows upon knees and face hidden between his hands, she did not at first perceive. It seemed to him as though he had suddenly been forced off his own circle of life and been brought into contact with beings unknown, of different form and custom. His present environ- ment was unnatural and visionary. Even Dave's mechanical expletives were insufficient to dispel the 139 t ,3 I im ' * i' ill: ''. ■ i;. \h illusion. When the girl appeared, like a visible portion of the surrounding silence, he regarded her as some fresh vagary of Nature, or creation of the storm. He blinked his eyes, with the dim idea of seeing her disappea" from vision. But when the cloak fell back and the softly cut features of Menotah were upraised in the blue light, he reflected, — first, on Sinclair's poor body, rotting in some thick tangle of bush ; then on Muskwah, full of life, hope and vengeance. When she laughed, he started at the sound of contrast, and overturned the cracked glass beside him. Then he rose, crushed the broken fragments, and came towards the girl with a low-toned question on his lips, ' Why are you here ? * She looked up gladly. Then he noticed her fingers closing round the willow box. * I was in the furest when the fire was cast at my head, so I hastened here.' The vagrant thoughts fled off on another tack. He kept his eyes fixed upon the girl's countenance. She drew back frightened. 'Your eyes are still and cold. Your lips move, yet there is no word-sound. You did not look at me so — in the forest, when the white moon peeped over the ledges.' He cast off the glamour of illusion, and asked again, * Why have you come ? ' * I told you,' said Menotah, pettishly. ' You did not attend, for you have been drinking the strong waters — ' * No, I haven't,' interrupted Lamont. ' I have scarcely tasted the stuff. Why are you out on such a night ? ' 140 TPgife win g ^ * The spirits of the dead call us in the storm,' said she fearfully. 'They shriek in the thunder; their hollow eyes stare from the lightning ; their cold breath beats in the rain. It is terrible to stay within, and hear them fighting. Yet it may be death to venture outside.' * Why did you ? ' She touched the box with light finger tips. * I kept this buried beneath a forest tree; but I feared lest a Spirit might snatch it in the storm.* Lamont laughed. 'Spirits could steal away nothing.' ' They breathe, and the substance vanishes ; they touch, and it melts. Often have I seen the wind carrying a tree uprooted. I have also looked upon a tent borne on the storm. There is a Spirit in the wind.' A furious roar of thunder convulsed the dread silence. As it died away, Dave burst into renewed bowlings, and commenced an attack upon the table with the black bottle. 'You shouldn't have come here.* ' Why not ? ' 'Two drunken men — and you.' He shrugged his shoulders. 'But when a man drinks much strong water, he is helpless. Besides, you are here.' Dave staggered to his irregular feet, dimly con- scious that someone was speaking close at hand, and fell heavily into Lamont's arms. ' Come — have something — to drink, Alfy. Haven't had good drink — with you — long time.* 141 hii; •I 111 ! 1 it ^ (fflenofgg Arousing to the (Vict that his name had been pronounced, M'Auliffe uplifted a strange, shaggy face, to stare helplessly around. ' That 'ud be Dave — old Davey Spencer. Talking through his hat as usual. No good listening — what he says. He ain't of no account.' Dave threw his hot arms around Lament's neck. ' Alfy — you good fellow,' he slobbered. ' Heard boys run you down — say old Alf M'Aulifife wasn't much good anyway. I've given it 'em straight. Your old pal, Davey, '11 stay right by you.* M'Aulifife stuck a bottle to the perpendicular on the sloppy table, and lectured it with wagging beard, — ' No use at all for chaps that have a lot to say for themselves — no derncJ bit of good, they ain't! There's Dave Spencer, now — he's one of 'em. Corks me, he do I I've been talking to him to-night — not a single sense-bug under his wool. Can't argue worth shucks. Sits sucking a glass and stares like a derned old owl whenever I talk straight — squirms like a pesky fish trying to get back to water. It's a terrible waste of time for fellow like me — lots of brains — to argue with a wooden chunk like Dave. Don't you forget it now. What I'm saying's the right thing.' 'Damn you, keep off!' shouted Lamont, throw- ing the unsteady Captain back against the wall. * Not going back on friends, Alfy — not on old Davey Spencer? Always drunk fair with you — never took lager when you had whisky. Just shake, Alf — show no ill feeling. Then we'll go for a walk and have something — ter'ble long time 'tween drinks. My treat, Alf.' 142 * Get a move on, then ! ' cried the Factor. He rose clumsily. ' Seems to be a bit of a storm coming around. Don't matter, though. Hook your arm in mine, Davey.' But then Lamont caught the speaker and pulled him back to the inner room. M'AuHffe struggled like a bear. ' There'll be trouble here I ' he howled. ' A fellow can do what he darned well likes in a free country ! ' 'You'll get twisted up by lightning first thing if you go out.' ' We'll try, anyhow,' hiccoughed the Factor, smiling pleasantly. ' Can't spare you,' muttered the other. * Come along with me. I'll stay with you, and bring along a stiff eye-opener.' ' You're the stuff! ' chuckled M'AuHffe. ' I'm right with you. Never mind Davey; haven't got much an opinion of him. Sort of chap to stand you a drink, then make you pay for it. We'll go for a stroll presently, eh? Sun shining nice and bright. I want to pick some pretty flowers for my gal.' Lamont laughed cynically, and dumped the great body on the heap of clothes which stood for a bed. He stood by to check any inclination to rise, until he was recalled to the office by a sound of scuffling and an indignant cry. Then he remembered Dave. Mcnotah had quickly commenced to ridicule her companion upon his singular want of graceful motion. The Captain recognised his persecutor, and smiled broadly with pleasure. ' You're a fine gal, , 1 m I i \ 1 and good-looking gal/ he declared. ' Come and sit on my knee.' Which pleasant invitation was scornfully refused. * I shall stay here, and you can sit by yourself,' she said. ' What have you been doing to-night ? * * Thinking of you,' replied Dave, effusively. * Always doing it — first thing in morning, last thing at night' She regarded his wobbling figure with a laugh. * It has been too much for your feet. If you think any more, your legs will give way.' Dave whined at the imputation. 'I'm all right. See me walk the chalked line.' Then he commenced to gyrate towards her. She doubled her little fist. ' If you come any nearer, I shall hit you in the face.' The Captain chuckled happily, and made a fresh lurch onward. * I know you gals — all the same. Never let a fine-looking man alone. Lots have tried to catch Dave Spencer — shook 'em off, though, every time. Always said — going to marry Menotah and settle down comfortable.' The girl laughed. * Why,' she cried frankly, ' you are uglier than a jack-fish, and as stupid as a tree- partridge! Don't you know that?' The Captain was in a condition only to appreciate compliments. ' You agree to that quick enough. I know you gals — never let a good chance slip. Come, give me a kiss.' Menotah turned to escape, but in doing so stepped upon a fragment of Lamont's broken glass. She cried sharply, for she was barefooted ; but the next instant Dave had flung two unsteady arms round 144 nota$ and sit refused, ielf,' she Always night.' 1 laugh. )u think ill right, nmenced )me any J a fresh le same. Dts have r, though, Menotah ikly, ' you IS a tree- ippreciate nough. I p. Come, io stepped lass. She the next tms round her, while his hot tainted breath struck against her cheek. Yet, before he could put his amorous designs in execution, Lamont was across the floor, and had seized him angrily by the collar. He dragged him away, struggling violently, and shouting like a maniac. * Unfix me. I'll pay you for mauling my carcase. You don't know Dave Spencer, I guess. Who the devil are you, anyway ? ' Menotah nursed her foot upon the lounge, watching her protector with soft eyes. Dave slobbered along the floor, cursing and groaning, then turned his dull head round and looked up into Lamont's face. The same moment Menotah turned up the lamp flame, though scanty light could penetrate the blackened chimney. Still, the incessant lightning, across window and half open door, was sufficient by itself. Suddenly Dave shot a shaking finger upward. ' I know you!' he cried madly. 'White Chief! Ho, ho! White Chief!' It might have been the electric light that cast the livid hue across Lamont's features. Certainly he started wildly, then recollected in whose presence he stood, and laughed. * Pshaw ! ' he muttered, * if you weren't three sheets in the wind, I'd stufl'you with lead for that' The Captain kept his strange dark eyes fixed vin- dictively. ' I saw you once,' he shrieked ; ' saw you one evening without your paint. White Chief! I'll hand you over. You will swing along with Rid. You will be hung ! ' K i ^■^i. ■ ^! I r i. i ' iU ! i !^ : ll;. ^ ( fflenofgg The thunder rose from the heart of the great silence, and roared fearfully. When it died into mutterings, the thick breathing of the sleeping Factor within was distinctly audible. Lamont kicked the drunken body, and turned to Menotah with a gesture of contempt. * Come,' he said, ' I will take you to your home.' She looked at him pathetically, almost as a wounded stag who expects the death blow. Then she silently pointed to a scarlet line across the little brown foot. He fell to his knee and kissed passionately the spot indicated. Then he drew the silk scarf from his throat and bound up the delicate limb. While doing so, she bent down and pressed her lips fervently to the white skin at the back of his neck. Dave had forgotten his accusation, and, still mutter- ing upon the floor, was rapidly sinking into a natural stupor. The boat departed in the early morning, and in her Lamont had sworn to take passage. But much might be performed before the dawning. M'Auliffe lay in a dead sleep ; Justin tended the Icelander in a riverside hut ; Denton was safely out of the way. Good. * Shall I carry you in my arms, c/i^ne P* he asked. *I can walk now,' she replied. *We must go before the wind strikes us.' They stepped from the fort during one of the short, terribly intense periods of silence. Immediately there rang forth the sullen report of a muzzleloader. It came from the opposite shore, and hung over the forest until dispelled by the thunder. 146 *W0tte wins 5^ i as a Then e little ; 'It is Muskwah,' said the girl. 'He has hunted the moose since morning, and now returns. That is his signal. The Chief would marry me to him,' she concluded indifferently. They came to the edge of the cliff. The electric fire blazed with stronger fury, yet not a drop of rain fell from the copper sky to the parched ground, not ^ motion of air stole through the solemn pines. Beneath, the mighty Saskatchewan swelled away, its oil-like water converted into a sea of fire, overhung by ever-changing blood shadows. Menotah released his arm with a little cry of fear, as a narro'v ribbon of flame darted along his back and struck across the rock. *Why have you the rifle?' Lamont feigned surprise. ' I forgot,' he said quickly. * I will cover it with my coat' He did so, then turned to the girl again. * It is not far through the forest, Menotah. I wish you to go to the encampment by yourself.' She demurred, but obeyed. He made as though he would return to the fort, but she gave a little cry, and he turned, to find her standing beside him with uplifted face. ' You forgot me,' she said pitifully. * No, c/i&i'e ; I was only afraid of the fire striking you.' He kissed her many times, then she stepped into the bushes with a backward glance. So he was alone. The rifle was again uncovered, while he knelt on the rocky headland, with eyes fixed upon the dark shadows beneath the opposing bank. Minutes dragged along slowly as he crouched, like a dark statue, until eyes dimmed with the strained gaze 147 i'l: V i'T*' ■ ,\i ■f!' ni I I' I ii I 1 i: i ' 'I ^^ J: \ I [ I W. and, in the intervals of great silence, heart-beats rose in loud pulsations. But it was not for long he waited. A canoe shot suddenly forth from the dark shadows beyond. It carried a single occupant, one who headed the frail craft with dexterous paddle strokes straight for the point. He knelt to his work; the figure was erect, rejoicing in strength and manhood. It was the bearing of one who has secured the victory, who sees happiness before him on the life pathway. Now he had reached the centre of the great river, and the white paddle shone like a glass beneath the fire. Then the stern-faced watcher perceived in the illumination the features, the swelling muscles, the proud might of the warrior MuiKwah. Another stroke, and the canoe half sprang from the water like a graceful bird, to fall back and dart along, cutting through the sanguine waters and casting aside two wide lines of ruddy waves. * He must not land. The time has come.' Such words were spoken by an avenging voice from the heart of the storm. He raised and levelled that murderous rifle ; the stock burnt his cheek : lightning confused the sights ; then he settled him- self like a rock, as the forefinger caressed the trigger. The reverberating crack was swallowed by the revelry above, the gleaming river received in its bosom the harmless missive. ' Again 1 ' The single word circled from the red mystery of the tempest. The warrior approached the shore. Should he reach that dark shelter of the cliff, he must escape beneath the forest shadows, while another life would pay the penalty of failure. 14S 1 * ^0ife n)ing g» The rifle came up, with the wild lights playing and leaping along its narrow length. A bullet darted forth and pierced the brown bark at the side. • Again ! ' He could see the Indian's frightened face, as he struggled madly towards the rock-lined shore, the friendly shadows, where he mt^^ht creep away in safety; but there was no thought of pity, no com- punction at depriving mortality of its best. Only he passed a hand across his eyes and straightened himself for a more resolute effort. Then the keen eye glanced again from sight to sight, while the storm fiend spoke for the last time, — • The wind is coming. There will be opportunity only for two more shots.' Half lifting the gaze from his glowing weapon, he perceived the heads of the most distant pines on the heaving sky line bend almost double, yet amid a silence most intense. That fearful calm could have no other ending. In three minutes the tornado must burst upon them. An unearthly moaning shuddered over forest and river. At the same moment the heavens divided into a myriad fiery serpents, writhing and hissing to every point of the compass. As this avenging host convulsed the livid sky, a death bullet shrieked from the shore and savagely bit the warrior's left shoulder. He dropped with a wild cry ; the birch bark overturned, scarlet w.'.^ers foamed and twisted like a furnace with the grim struggle. And after came the common end of all. 149 IJ ii'f ' 1 M 1:11 ''1 .■■ ! i>T»' m :>\ ^ (fflenofgg In the last interval of stillness, Lament wiped the sweat from his forehead, and again covered the rifle. The wind approached. He prepared to move towards the fort, but the small bush behind trembled with motion. Then a figure crept forth and caught at his arm with soft fingers. He cried aloud, when the frightened face and wide-open eyes appeared in the strange lights. ' Menotah ! You here ! ' She pointed below to the fire-like river, while her lips moved. At length words dropped forth. 'Why did you kill him?' There was time for a hasty reply, though the trees across the v/ater bent and cracked. Flinging down the weapon, he caught her in his arms and pressed her to him, until heart beat with heart. Then he whispered against her ear, * Because I love you.' Then the wind came. With a mad fury it drowned the sonorours bursts of thunder. The Saskatchewan was lashed into white billows of foam ; a drifting canoe was torn into fragments by sharp rocks. Trees groaned and tossed appealingly heavy plumes to the violent sky ; branches and small stones hurtled on the wings of the tempest. It was the murderer's storm, and for him alone. As he clasped Menotah, beneath the raging bush, it poured all its message of retribution around his head, and shrieked the red words of fate into his ears. His unworthy love was blood purchased. It was a thing accursed. It would end in blood. And, after the wind, came the rain. ISO t i CHAPTER V PACTOLUS I The following morning dawned with clear light in a radiant softness. Bright sunshine glistened joyfully upon dripping pine needles, drawing fragrance from the damp ground and dew-lined bushes. Dave, sulky and forgetful of events closely pre- ceding, partook of a greasy breakfast prepared by Justin, then slouched outside, where he might relieve his feelings by swearing at the slowness of his half- breed assistants. The Factor was abroad yet earlisr. Half a bottle of black H. B. had little subsequent effect upon his vigorous constitution. He ate with Dave, continually disburdening himself of badly- received jokes at his companion's expense. The Captain rose presently with a curt farewell, and blundered finally from the fort. But M'Aulifife was not to be shaken off. He followed, borrowed a plug of T. & B., then walked along, peeling off thick strips and reminding Dave of several commissions to be executed prior to a next meeting. ' Shouldn't have taken so much liquor, Dave. You've got a sore head this morning, sure.' The other mumbled an indistinct reply. Then they 151 « :: '■!:l tr-.-i -» '" I m \ I \m'' ' ■ >r IN came down to the river's edge. Here the boat was lying, bales of furs for Engh'sh shipment ready stowed, an Icelander waiting to cast off the last rope. Dave swore at this latter, then stepped on board. Th n;j:t minute the black monster drew slowly away. i.h Captain took up a stolid position in the bows, 3.L..I liftt ! '"he torn flag he was grasping in response to M'Auliffe's parting shout. Then the unwieldy craft gurgled round the bend and dis- appeared. The Factor turned, to discover Lamont approaching him from the forest. ' Where you been ? ' he called, as the young man came up. ' Around early. Tracked a muskawk, but couldn't get in a shot' ' That was the old bull's luck. Say, we had a bit of a jamboree last night, eh ? ' * I reckon you did. What with liquor splashing and a tornado howling, it was a fairly wild night.' ' Don't often get off on a jag,' said the Factor. ' When I do, I'm a rocket. Bound to go off full rip. Guess you found me a bit of a teaser, eh ? ' ' Not so bad as Dave. I've no use for him.' ' He's not much of a chap. Told him that straight lots of times. I shouldn't have cut such an ever- lasting dido if he hadn't been monkeying around. Drank more than I did, too. Dirty mean trick that, for he can get lots across lake. Quite a little storm rustling most of the while, eh ? ' Lamont smiled feebly. * Just a bit,' he said slowly. The Factor looked at him critically. * Darn it, Lamont, a fellow might think you'd been on the jag stead of me.' 152 iilti I ! 'i He was right. The young man's face was colour- less and heavy ; his eyes dull and deeply marked with black lines ; his appearance thinner and older. The Factor, on the other hand, represented the per- fection of health. His great face glowed with colour beneath a wide straw bonnet; his eyes shone; his step was firm and vigorous. ' I'm a bit played out. Up most of the night ; o:. first thing without grub.' ' That's what,' returned M'Auliffe, heartily. ' Coi;ie off now; there's a decent chunk of moose steak lying inside.' They disappeared within the log fort, whil the silence and desolation grew again. Through the fresh dampness of the forest came Menotah, with her wonted happiness and joy of heart. Her hair was unbound as usual ; she wore a tiny pair of beaded and grass-worked mocassins, with dainty Icggii'SS of fringed buckskin. Light notes of joyous music dropped from her smiling lips as she danced along with scarce a limp or a pause — for the old Antoine, with the miraculous native art of healing, had rubbed an ointment upon the wounded foot. She passed along like a butterfly floating with the wind, threading an unmarked track for some distance, then glided through torn and rugged bush, to finally emerge at the edge of a gloomy swamp, where strange creatures croaked and crawled, where poisonous herbs reared fetid heads aloft. Here an unmistakable odour permeated the air. A thick film coated nauseous puddles of silent water, where circles of bright colour curled and twisted 153 i r ".'." ' " r Mg ^17 (gtenofg^ lim ! i beneath the bright sunlight. A colossal fortune, open gift of Nature, lay beneath that lonely wilderness, only awaiting someone to seize upon it. Yet neither the old Antoine, nor the light-hearted girl, the two who alone knew of the place, ever had the imagination troubled with the golden vision of an oil king's dream. Black rocks pressed closely upon the limit of this slimy expanse, which spread away to the distance, broken by occasional solemn bushes, or gaunt stone masses like huge creatures of mythology. Between this cliff and the precarious edge Menotah picked her light-footed way, until she came to an open spot fronted by a thick bush clump, which seemed to bar all further progress. She stepped across and pulled at a pliant bough. It came back, and she passed through a dark aperture, the branch closing behind her with considerable force, like a spring door. Ahead lay another smaller clear- ing, with three trees in the centre, growing to form an almost perfect equilateral triangle. These had been utilised as corner posts for a small hut con- structed out of thick kanikanik rods, overlaid with white reeds plaited with red wands of the same bush. The roof was thatched in by layers of leaves and dry grass, the whole being sheltered by pendulous tresses of the overhanging trinity of pines. At the forest side a roughly-cut aperture did duty for a window, where a cloth was stretched across at night, to ex- clude, as far as possible, the noxious vapours and the no less unpleasant insects. Menotah had reached her destination. She stopped and hooted thrice in soft cadence. Scarce had the 154 (pacfofug g» low cry passed drearily over the swamp, when the reed door was pushed back, while a figure, bent and completely enveloped in a sweeping black cloak, crawled forth slowly. This apparition the girl re- garded with every sign of complacent satisfaction. * I have come early,' she began in glad tones, ' for last evening I could not find you. I came to the hut before the storm arose, but it was empty.' The figure raised a thin, bearded face, and spoke in a weak voice. * I went into the forest — to escape the stench of the swamp for a few hours. I thought I knew the way, but it gave me trouble to return.' * You should not have left this place. Some might see you.' ' Don't fear, my girl. I shall lie quiet, till the strength comes. I sha'n't show my face till the proper time. No one comes here ? ' * None can, but old Antoine, for they do not know the path. He comes but seldom, to gather foul plants and collect creatures from the mud. Then he makes great medicines and strong poison. Are you not satisfied here?' The figure shivered, and drew the mantle more closely round his lean shoulders. * It is an awful place at night — especially on a quiet night. Mists rise and hang upon yonder dark pools, while blue lamps shudder along the marsh.' Menotah gave a fearful little laugh. 'But you should not venture forth when the cold moon shines.* P t |; ni' I * ' Stay within when the darkness falls, for the night is bad. The evil one has his power.' — Cree proverb. The dogma is interesting, as to it the title ' Manitobah ' (now Manitoba) owns derivation. Cli ill The Mntchi-Manitou is then abroad, and his home is in the swamp. He it is who lights those fires, that you may come to the edge and gaze upon them. Then he would drag you in to feed upon your blood, while your soul would make another blue lamp. But the dim shadows arc powerless to harm, for they are only poor spirits who have been sent to the other world without food or light by the way. So they have lost the right path, and must search through the long night for it' The huddled figure, who already seemed overridden by superstition, bent still lower in a fit of coughing. Menotah, with her inborn knowledge of the unseen, had no idea of easing his mind. 'You have not seen that which the Spirit has shown to me,' she continued, in a half whisper. ' When I was younger, I would sometimes be very foolish, and would even walk by the edge of the swamp when the moon was cold and round. I wished to learn some of the mysteries of the future. So as the night grew older and the south wind blew more strongly,* there rose around me groan- ings, with louder cries of souls in torture. Fires darted from side to side, while shadow figures floated in such numbers that the sky became hidden. Some- times, when I came by a black pool, where red patches lay without motion, a blue-veined hand darted upward, making horrible clutches with bony fingers at the life air, which the body might not reach from the bondage of death. Then a ghastly head, with starting eyes and awful features, would * Spirits may only travel on the south wind. 156 .'l| be cast up at my feet, only to roll back into the slime with fearful cries. I could see the agony in the eyes as the dark water closed around. Also, voices would call my name, and feet tread beside me as I trembled along. Invisible hands pulled at me, while hollow eyes rolled and burnt in the air at my side. Yet I kept to the path and never lost courage. Had I done so, one of those blue lamps which now frighten you at night would mark that spot where I had made entry into the other world.' ' You imagined this ! ' cried the figure. ' It was a dream. I have seen nothing like that' ' Because the Spirit has not given you the double vision,' she said eagerly. ' Some may see more than others can even imagine. These have an inner pair of eyes with which they may look into the mysteries, to read the future and the fate of others, though we may never find or learn our own.' 'Have you the double pair?' * I cannot tell yet ; I am still so young. But I can see very well, and I know — I know — ' She stopped, then widened her lustrous eyes and gazed on him with a smile, in which there was certain pn.,e. * Now I must go,' she said suddenly. ' See how the sun is creeping up from the low ridge of cloud. Is there anything I should bring you ? ' * No. Only keep your tongue as you have managed so far. Then everything ought to turn out well.' She stepped back to the leafy wall. ' I-ast night 157 i i| 1 ^ ll 'h< li:' il ■ ujg, '1 ! ( ; 1 ■i; ; ^ '■ J ^ ill ' p, i'l 1 . 1 ! '■ i i 1 i ■J i |li■i^ 1 ^ r1[: 1 ' ' 1 J>1'!!1" E) ^11 II hi! there was a moose brought into the camp. I have cut off some nice pieces for you, and will bring them this evening. Do not lose yourself again.' She rodded with a radiant smile, the bushes closed behind her flowing hair as a last bright note of farewell floated back to the stagnant swamp pools. Then her happy steps turned lightly in the direction of the dismal death tree, where she was to meet the one to whom she had dedicated her fresh young heart. Quickly she came across him, stretched at his ease in the soft green shade beneath the tinted light. She came to him, full of that love and trust which is in itself a thing of perfect beauty, yet which so often proves a serpent to its owner. She knelt by his side, under the interlacing tangle of boughs, to throw her warm young arms around his neck in the passion of her innocent devotion. Her tantalising hair waved round his neck and fondled each feature. It intoxicated the sense, so he returned her embrace, drew her down beside him, whispering soft words into her ear, caressing the flushed face with the careless touch of a man who understands a woman's weakness. Jealousy had awakened the love flame in his heart. if. Now the opposer had been destroyed, arid no further obstacle stood in his path. Menotah was for him. He had but to put forth his hand and receive a bride — surely she was worth the taking. What mattered the stiff body drifting down an unknown reach of the Saskatchewan ? That could no more interfere between him and desire. For the time he IS8 J I (pactofus ^ v'as sincere. This warmth at the heart was love ; the beautiful being then caressing him with soft fingers had been the kindling of it. Nor had she any great consideration for the dead Muskwah. He himself had explained the truth, when he said that none could think of the moon while the sun gave light. She breathed within a golden flood of ecstasy, in which time and season were empty phrases. The warmth and beauty of that summer day had been created for her alone, while she, in her turn, had been brought to the world that she might bring joy and satisfaction to another. Had not the heart been free from sorrow all the days of life ? And now the happiness had been idealised. How magnificent, how wonderfully coloured, how fantastic and exquisitely enervating was this supreme intensity of heart joy ! She murmured to him softly, 'You have given me love. I know what it is now. And the more you give me, more I shall ask for.' ' You shall have it, cherie! * It is my life now. I should die if I looked for it — and it never came.' He turned her face up inquiringly and gazed into it. ' Ah ! You do not understand that. But, if I thought you had ceased to love me, it would kill me. You may not live without a heart. We are given but one, and we cannot part with our best more than once.' ' But when it is returned to you ? * ' No ; it is a different thing. You then offer that which belongs to another.' 159 w i !i W^ 1 U>f^ If ^ (fflenofgg Lamont looked long into her serious eyes. Ma miel he said tenderly, * all of your age and sex speak so. They mean it, when they give the thought utterance, yet in a short time they will gladly transfer affection, and call it again love.' * I do not understand the world ways. I do not wish to, if such is custom. Such women cannot possess hearts, or know truth.' * It is nothing,* he said carelessly. * Husbands tire of wives, wives desert husbands. It happens every day.' 'But what comes after that?* ' Often they separate.' Menotah shuddered, while her face grew very grave. * When you speak such words, a cold pain passes over rae. It makes me lonely and unhappy. But tell me more ; when the wife is deserted for another woman, what does she do ? ' Lamont shrugged his shoulders and laughed. 'Takes somebody else,' he said lightly. Yet he was astonished at her manner of receiving his words. She pushed him away with a sudden impulse, while her bosom heaved and the bright eyes flashed. ' Surely she would seek after vengeance ? She would punish him?* 'You do not understand the workings of the world, Menotah,' came the careless answer. ' No — I go higher. For I know the call of Nature. If animals seek to obey the will of the Spirit, why should men and women do less? I i6o will tell you what I myself saw last spring. Many herons nested among the river reeds, and I would watch them often while they fashioned homes and brought up their young. But one day a female deserted her mate and chose another. What do you think happened then? The others would not allow themselves to be thus disgraced; for they were wiser than those men and women of whom you speak. They waited, until the female bird came to the encampment, then set upon her, and tore her body in pieces. After that they turned upon her mate and beat him from the camp. All this I saw with my own eyes.' Lamont shifted uneasily, for this style of con- versation jarred upon him. This girl of the forests possessed deep inner feelings, which he felt she would be better without. There were still things of importance he must teach her, chief of which was the error cf perfect fidelity. To him, love was the pleasure of an hour ; to her, it was the core of life. It was easy, also delightful, to assure her of the foolishness of dwelling upon matiers which could not concern her. She was willing to be persuaded, and soon smiled on him again with her customary brightness. * I have a gift for you,' she said. 'You have given it already. You shall not take yourself back again,' he replied laughingly. She patted his mouth with a soft palm and laughed back into his eyes. * It is something nicer than me,' she said. ' I had it with me L 5 ^l.:{ J l! Mil \ % 1 1)1 1 II, nil ■■''' k' 1 i '• " m :tii H in the storm ; now it lies in the hut. There are many beautiful stones, which were given to my father by the hunter who found them. That was before I Hved.' He saw she was referring to the willow box. ' What is your gift, ck&te ? * ' Yellow stones. They are wonderful as sun- shine,' ijhe replied. This was a matter of far greater interest. He drew himself up eagerly to ask, 'From where did they come ? ' ' I will tell you how the hunter of our tribe found them long ago. He travelled far, track- ing the moose, and struck in a new direction, until he came to a strange land, which no man had knowledge of. He went through much forest, then came out to a country of rocks, where great red hills overtopped the ! '.r.est trees; and still he travelled on, down the jlk: paths and through the deep clefts. At length he stood upon lofty cliffs, and looked upon what must once have been a great river, like our mighty Saskatchewan-god. But then it was dry, while the bed of sparkling sand, overstrewn with small shells, showed no mark of footsteps. So he wondered greatly, and let himselt down the cliff front, over rocks the like of which his eyes had never rested on. For tlicy were white as snow. Then he came upon the ancient ri' er bed and his feet sank amid the brit'.ie shells. Into the warm sand he worked his hands, ^hen, behold ! bright stones lay there, glittf ring beneath the sun as though made of 162 (pacfofug g» fire. Also he chipped fragments from the white rocks, and saw wondrous yellow patterns traced upon the heart of the stone. So he came away with many of the bright creatures in his pemmican bag. When he returned, after much wandering, he gave them to the Chief.' Lamont had given this narrative breathless atten- tion. ' Where is that river bed ? ' Menotah laughed. ' Do you wish to walk along the soft sand as well ? You cannot, for none knows where it lies. That hunter has long been dead, nor could he ever find his way there again. The Spirit brought him to it, and it was after many weary days of travel. No man could lead you there. Do you wish to travel through the lone land ? ' * I will tell you after I have seen the stones,' was the somewhat mercenary answer. * You will meet me to-night, when the moon tips the black rock ledge. Then I will bring the little box and give it you.' He agreed; but as he kissed her soft moutb, he thought more upon the glittering sands, so jealously guarded by Nature, than the upturned face of sweet beauty and the trusting heart that throbbed so happily against his breast. But Menotah had flitted among the trees, and disappeared with a glad song upon her lips. Scarce had Lamont reached the open, when a shrunken form approached slowly from the direction of the river. He .stopped, and, leaning against ? rock, waited for the old Chief to come up. The latter had perceived his daughter as she 163 'i ■ I ' I B/ fc -»' b! f 1 3 . < i 1 1 -^ If I 1 i I i ':i ^ (fflenofag passed at a short distance, with scantest form of recognition. He groaned and struck his staff upon the ground in the bitterness of his heart. The white oppressor had taken from him everything, save only the light of his eyes. And now, even the heart of his child had been turned against her own. Especially did the old man hate Lamont, who had dealt destruc- tion in the fight, who, as he now shrewdly imagined, might have some knowledge regarding the dis- appearance of Muskwah. So he would have passed without a word, had not the young man caught a fold of his blanket and brought him to a standstill. Then he turned his bleared eyes and deeply wrinkled countenance to n^jet the question, ' Did you see her, who left me as you came up ? ' Quickly the other found words. ' Can a man see the sun at noon ? Who could wish for beauty when Menotali stands by?' 'You're right enough,' said Lamont, carelessly. 'She is—' * What is she to you ? ' broke in the old Chief violently. * No longer will she look upon those of v'lc tri'oe as equals, no longer does she respect the needs of her sire. When I call for her, the answer comes, ''SU3 is absent; she has gone to the forest." When I seaich, failure but mocks my efforts. What have vou done to her ? Why have you turned her againsi her own people ? ' ' She is a good deal to me,' said Lamont. * I am going to make her my wife.' Tlie old Chief clasped claw-like hands and trembled to his knees. 164 'M . 'Leave me this, only this,' he wailed pitifully. * See, I would not bow myself to the white man for a small matt-^r. But now I will humble myself for Menotah's sake. The white man has taken every- thing from me. He stole my land, driving me back to the forest, which is worthless to him ; he killed the buffalo,* and took away our life support. Now, if we rise to reclaim our own, he takes away our life. White man — give me back my daughter. Take not away the only gladness of my last days,' ' Get up,' said Lamont, scornfully. ' What are you grovelling about there for ? I am as good a man as any of yours.' * May the Great Spirit aid me. May he save my child from her fate.' ' I guess your god will listen, if you shout loud enough ; but he certainly can't stop me from making Menotah my bride.' The aged Chief rose in feeble manner, a Strang*^ picture of crushed humanity. * What good can come from such a marriage ? ' he quavered. * Does the crow mate with the gull? Nature herself teaches you to take a wife from your own tribe. Yet, I tell you this, should you treat her wroofrly, an old man's curse shall follow you to death. The earth will hate you, and the wind shall blow poison through your veins.' The other laughed cynically. * Good ! ' he ex- claimed. ' You talk well, old man ; it is a pity you will not live to see my downfall.' * Though it has frequently been denied, the Hudson's Bay Company arc alone responsible for the extinction of the buffalo. 165 » V . *- . ■-'«< , M ■ ^ (fflenofg^ it * j ! 1 i i ( i ; 1 j 1 i i ■ ! i 1 ^ t i 1 I (1 ; i (i * I do not wish to. I have seen much sorrow, and now look for sleep. It is the great love for what I may call my own that speaks in me.' * Well, I have told you — I love her, too.* 'With the white man's constancy. No true fire burns within your heart. I know the white man's fair promise and the white man's love. You change, as the day in early summer. At one time all is bright, but even while you gaze black clouds roll up, the tempest beats. So will the love sunshine turn to dark forgetfulness before another moon has grown round.' The young man smoothed his fair moustache. ' Have you done ? ' he asked listlessly. ' The wind will receive my prayers and carry them to the Spirit. He will act between you and me. White man, for the last time I plead to you. Give me back my daughter, the warmt^ of my life, the pleasure of my failing eyes. This is all I ask.' Lament's lips curled into a slow smile. Then he leaned forward, until his face came near the ancient head. ' You ask for your daughter. Have you never thought I might be unable to return her to you ? ' The old man breathed thickly. 'What is the meaning in your words ? I am aged, and the sense is feeble.' The smile grew deeper as the words came deliberately. ' Perhaps it is already too late.* Then he burst into mocki'j laughter, and turned towards the fort with swinging step. i66 But the Chief lifted two dim eyes upward, while the great sorrow consumed his ebbing life. Pitifully he cried and wailed to the peaceful nature encircling him, 'The God has spoken. Be it good or evil, what matters it? Yet, when he makes known his will, what have men to do but bow the head?* H !i' \ f III 'if* 167 ;;»-. ■«M--^;7«jp>t:4 r-»v ' ( CHAPTER VI DENTON'S DESCENT lljf III i : li Abandoned by Lamont, the Factor discharged a few duties in the store, made a selection of heterogeneous entries in his books, then set forth for the hut beneath the cliff. Here the Icelander, con- siderately left by Dave for ' planting,' was sheltered, watched over by the taciturn and skilful Justin. The petty king of the district walked by the out- lying scrub for some distance, then turned sharply and worked his great body with extraordinary agility down the almost perpendicular cliff. This was a journey he had often made before, chiefly for the sake of enjoying the breathless exercise of a somewhat hazardous climb. Presently he came to the bush-covered roof of the one-roomed hut. Here he veered off again, dropped from the overhanging ledge, and without ceremony kicked in the door. Directly opposite the entrance lay the sick man, stretched upon a pile of sacking ; Justin's stunted form moved to and fro ; while, squatting on the floor, with an open Bible across his knees, and an odour of hypocrisy emanating from his very garments, ap- peared no less a personage than Peter Denton. i68 •lafT'^^if^ I ©enfoVe^e scent ^ The latter was not anticipating a visit from his natural enemy, though he was quite prepared to act on emergency. Feigning complete ignorance of the Factor's presence — somewhat of an exaggeration in the restricted space — he bent over the book, and drawled forth in his nasal tones a portion of the Lamentations that happened to come handy. He could have done nothing, as he knew well enough, to more effectually arouse M'Auliffc's ire. Nor did the latter lose any time in acquainting him of that fact. 'Quit that noise now, or I'll fire you outside; and darned quick, too. What are you doing here, anyway ? * The ex-minister droned forth his Jeremiads, swing- ing his angular body in regular motions. * Do you hear ? Quit it, or the river will have a drowning job first thing.* Then Denton looked up, and closed the book mournfully. ' Did you speak, Alfred ? ' he asked smoothly. ' I just whispered,* shouted the Factor. ' You*re a peach of a Christian, ain't you ? Who told you to dump your carcase here, eh ? ' * You turned me out of the fort without authority. I had to find a place for myself,* said the ex-minister, who was more afraid of M'Auliffe than in the days previous to the fight. ' This shack's owned by the Company. I tell you that.' * Well, and I'm one of their ofificers,' said Denton, ;s morninj ' ' ilkily. by ig Garry. Tve just put them up to how I've been used 169 ! \' IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 !f I.I 111 50 ^ IIIM III 2.5 m u ■« 1^ 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 |||||i/> < 6" ■ — ► Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 873-4503 ^ iC \ iV N> % V 6^ ..< V ^ (gtenofol by the Chief Factor. The answer may bother you a bit, I reckon.' ' That'll be a sure thing,* said M'Auliffe, rubbing his hands delightedly. ' But it's no good your going in for fiction. There's too many at it already. Mind you, lad, my report went along by same mail. There was some reading in it which would have made you fairly blush. I recommended you for promotion, hinted at a Victoria Cross, to say nothing of a pension when you were past lying. You're tough, Peter, and there's no denying it. I wonder that Bible don't burn a hole in your pants.' Justin interposed. ' He no good. Make boy worse,' pointing to the Icelander. ' He's a waste of breath wherever he is. Fellows like him ain't a bit of good, until they're planted. Then they do keep a few worms going and enrich the ground a bit.' Denton drew himself upright with poor dignity. ' I have my call, and I obey it. I am here to ca: e for the soul of our sinful brother.' M'Auliffe burst into a lusty roar. ' 'Scuse me smil- ing, Peter. Think he wants you to trouble? Tell you, he'd be a lot more ii'terested if you looked a bit after your own. How's the fellow, Justin ? Going to snuff out ? ' The half-breed gave a loud grunt of dissent, then bent again over the sick man, who was apparently asleep. ' He's not, eh ? Well, you'll do fine, boy, if you drag him back.' He pulled forth a massive watch and continued, ' 'Bout time for my grub. Suppose you 170 I ) . Li notop r you a "ubbing r going Mind There \de you motion, pension ter, and n't burn ke boy Fellows planted. 1 enrich dignity, caie for ne smil- 2? Tell 3oked a Going mt, then parently , if you e watch DOse you ] ) fix him up and hustle across to the fort. I've got a hungry sort of faceache on me just now. So long, Peter ; it's made me regular tired seeing you again. Why don't you croak off, and make some of us happier ? ' Followed by an indistinct reply to this gracious sentiment, the two left the hut and passed along in the white sunlight, taking the narrow shingle path which ran between the cliff base and low ebb of the waters. The taciturn half-breed was kept at a short double by M'Auliffe's long strides, but at the tree- covered headland the latter paused to get a light for his pipe. There was a cool patch of shade beneath the overhanging rock, so Justin stopped willingly and rubbed the heat from his wrinkled forehead. Then he bit deeply into a black plug, while M'Auliffe swore at the pungent sulphur which had found its way up his nose. The great river swirled along, with a lazy gurgling beneath the bright light. Sweeping kanikaniks bent over and lay upon the cool surface, entangling small driftings that occasionally came down on the stream. There was something caught in the red strands now, and the half-breed's keen eyes soon perceived it. He pointed with his usual sonorous grunt. M'Auliffe puffed blue smoke through his moustache. The sunlight was dazzling, so at first he saw nothing but the red lines crossing and recrossing foam patches. Then, beyond the small waves which licked the shingle, he caught sight of a shining surface rising and falling feather-like, fretting at the restraint. ' Goldam, boy ! ' he exclaimed, * it's a paddle.' 171 • tfh^M ! I I ^ (gtenota^ ii' :?1 :i{; li 1^« Justin grunted and again pointed, this time to a fragment of bark twisted up among the pendulous strings. ' Looks as if a nitchi had been overset here,' said the Factor. ' There's been a canoe smashed, and it's a sure thing he didn't escape. He wouldn't have gone off without the paddle. Must have been in the storm, boy.' Justin merely expectorated skilfully across the flat of the white blade. * May have been monkey work going on,' continued M'Auliffe. ' I was too everlastingly raddled to know anything. See here, boy, you were around best part of the time. Anyone cutting a crooked dido, you reckon ? ' The half-breed shook his head slowly. ' Lightning, thunder, wind, rain.' He waved his hands towards the white rolling cloud masses. * I in the hut — all night' * Did Peter shift his carcase outside any time?* The decided shake of the half-breed's head was sufficient to exonerate the ex-minister. M'Auliffe pulled a deadwood stick from the bush, then brought the paddle to shore. ' One feliow gains by another's loss. It's a first-class paddle, boy.' They continued along the shingle, worked up the cliff, and were already within sight of the fort, when the old Chief crawled painfully from the dim forest track and waited for the representative of justice to come up. With his great hand M'Auliffe screened his eyes from the white stream of light, and presently observed the bent figure. 173 e to a dulous e,' said ind it's 't have I in the )ss the ntinued o know est part do, you jhtning, towards lut— all e?' ad was le bush, iw gams up the rt, when m forest istice to screened resently ^enton*B ^Descent 5^ * Hello, whisky bottle ! What're you after ? ' The old man replied in his weak tones, ' I wish to speak to the white father. Now I have found him on the way.' * That's what. No charge for talking to-day. Pump it out quick, though, for I'm wanting my grub.* He stopped, but Justin went on to the fort. Then the Chief came nearer, and stretched out a skinny hand. * Muskwah answers not when we call. The leader of the young men has departed from us as the star before the light of day.' M'Auliffe whistled and grew interested. 'What's that? Quit your foolery about the sun and stars. Tell me straight what you're driving at' * The young man went forth to hunt in the forest of the north. Then the Storm Spirit spoke and all trembled at his voice ; but in the morning, when many of the tribe came for water to the river, there were portions of vhe canoe lying upon the stones. Then we knew Muskwah had gone to the unknown ; also that there had been treachery in the manner of his death.' The Factor shook his shaggy head slowly. ' That's bad ; I'll have to look into this. We've no right to shoot down the boys, *cept in oelf-defence. Besides, it's bad for trade.' The old man feebly pointed with his staft. * The father remembers the promise he made to his servants — they should no more be punished for the fight of rebellion. Also have we sworn not to fight against the white men. Yet none of my children could have slain the leader of the young men.' 173 1 A !!l wttc^ nam-:- ^— *'■ 'it ' '■'i .i.'-Vi.i ..I ' id-M:i If ^^^^]| m ii (: \; ^ (fflenofgg M'Auliffe was much perplexed. ' I'll have to think over it, boy. I'm derned sure I didn't fix Muskwah. Can show an empty brandy bottle, and prove an alidi' Then he reflected ; Peter wouldn't have owned the pluck to be round in the storm. That only leaves Lar^ont, and he's not likely to have done it. Why should he ? He wouldn't want to be practising long shots, especially on such a night. Besides, a fellow doesn't go around potting others as though they were tree-partridges, just to see if he can hit them. Then to the Chief, ' Keep your old eyes awake, boy. Might have been someone in the camp who had a sort of feeling against him.* The other shook his head. 'There is no such man.' ' Look around, anyway, and come to me if you pick up anything.' He began to move, for a thin line of smoke was ascending invitinqlv from the stove pipe which marked the fort kitchen, but the Chief still detained him with the words, ' I would speak on another matter with the white father. Que-dane, the half- breed, has stolen the wife of one of my young men. He is not of us. therefore will not obey my word The messenger whom I sent he beat with a heavy stick. My children fear him, for he is a mighty fighter. Will the father command Que-dane to give back the wife ? ' * I'll go round this evening and fix things up with him. Glad of the chance, too, for he's a crooked lot.' He walked off as he spoke, still holding Muskwah's paddle, which the Chief's dim eyes had not perceived. 174 ofa§ think kwab. alibi* ;d the leaves Why g long fellow 1 they : them, ce, boy. had a lO such if you ake was which etained another ne half- ng men. ly word a heavy mighty e to give up with ked lot.' ;uskwah's perceived. The latter turned back to the forest, and made his slow way in the direction of the camp. Denton, in the meantime, left in charge of the sick Icelander, found himself situated in an entirely agree- able position. Justin had given him to understand that his patient was not to be disturbed, but the ex- minister had no idea of allowing a man to remain in comfort, when he imagined he could easily make him miserable. So, directly the door closed behind the two, he shut the Bible with unnecessary commotion and crossed over to his victim's side. Then he squatted upon a log of wood, aroused the sleeper, and commenced operations with an ominous groan. ' How are you feeling ? ' he asked, in a voice sug- gestive itself of a funeral procession. Like most northerners, the Icelander could under- stand English perfectly, and speak it fairly. When he heard the sepulchral voice, he stirred and turned his blue eyes upon the speaker. * You needn't bother to speak,' continued Denton, zealously. * You are not half so strong as you were this morning. You're getting worse every minute.' The man groaned and tried to speak, but Denton flowed on. 'The pain's getting duller all the time, isn't it ? That's a sure sign of death.* The Icelander shifted painfully, while his lips parted. ' Don't you know you're dying ? You must go ; no power can save you.' Denton spoke in hollow tones, bending over the sick man, and shaking his cadaverous features im- pressively at each word. 175 P Si ■■ i m ,1 li s 1- i 1 ! i 1 ■ \ ^ ! ' ;^ - -; '( '\ m ■ \i ^ (gtenof q^ The Icelander fastened two frightened eyes on the unpleasant face. 'No, no,' he said. * But it's yes, yes,' continued Denton, now thoroughly happy,. * There wouldn't be any chance for a man not half so sick as you. I guess you'll ';ve through this night. You may perhaps see the sun rise in the morning, though I tell you it's unlikely. By this time to-morrow you will be dead — likely enough under the ground. We shall plant you directly you turn up.' * No, no,' came again from the patient. ' It's bad to think on, I know. Still, you've got to get accustomed to the idea. Mind you, the end is very near now. Its terrible to be like you, only having a few more hours to look for.' ' But Justin say — I live.' * You didn't see him laugh at me when he cdid it. He thoug^ht he was doing you a kind turn tell'ng you a lie ; he knows you're dying fast. But it's my duty to tell you the truth ; I'm a minister of the Gospel, and I must prepare you for the end. Do you understand ? ' The Icelander lay back, with his mouth open and pale eyes staring. * I reckon you've been a vile sinner,* resumed the weird voice. * Now, you'll be wanting to know whether there's any chance of your being saved at the last moment. I'll just find out and let you know ; but don't raise your hopes, for I'm getting afraid you're one of the poor lost brothers. Now, listen to me.' He sat more upright and upraised a dirty hand. 176 ^WBi on the roughly a man through rise in ily. By ' enough ctly you re got to le end is ^ou, only le c;ald it. rn tell'ng But it's linister of the end. open and sumed the to know g saved at you know ; ting afraid ^ow, listen dirty hand. Then he half closed his eyes and groaned fervently. * Have you always regularly attended your chapel and prayer meeting ? Have you steadily helped towards your minister's income ? ' The other shook his flaxen head. 'On lake in summer ; bush work, winter. Not been near church.' Denton's face lengthened in telescopic fashion. ' Have you ever joined with the immoral company of card players ? ' Such a question aroused not unpleasant memories. • Played poker nights at camp. Held a royal in diamonds one time. Diddled 'em all. 'Twas a jackpot, too. I won quite a bit that night' He smiled, with more of the content of pride than sorrow of sinning. ' Perhaps you have even gone so far as to take part in lascivious dancing, or enter some hell of a theatre ? ' But the ex-minister had quite defeated his own ends. This probing of conscience brought nothing but a flood of jc.yful memories of the past. In such a pleasurable review the Icelander quickly recovered from his fear, and replied, with an irreligious chuckle in his voice, — ' Had loir, of good dar* es v/ith the gals — best fun I've ever put in. When I was in Garry, would always take in the show wl en there was one. I'd like to see another, fine. Tell you, some of them gals could kick up ! ' He leaned back with the smile of repro- bation, and rubbed his hands weakly. Denton was distinctly frustrated, but, not being sensitive, he instituted a fresh attack. ' It is my duty to give such a wretched sinner as you every M r,l n. •ii ■lU: W'i I vr ^ (fflenofgg chance. Have you ever passed your time — the time for which you must now give account — in saloons, drinking with those equally vile?' This mystified the Icelander, who did not know which way to take it. ' Always drunk fair, it that's what you're driving at. I've never dropped off a glass behind, then tried to make out I was level up.' Denton rocked to and fro with deep groans of fanatical horror. * Poor brother ! ' he wailed ; * for, miserable sinner as you are, I must still call you brother. You must yourself see that your damna- tion is assured. Nothing could save you, even it you do now repent — * 'But I don't,' broke in the sinner cheerfully. 'There's no harm in those things. They're right enough.' ' They are the wiles of your master, Satan. Poor dying brother. How dreadful it is to look on you ! I must tell you where you are going to, and so com- plete my duty.' He opened the Bible, moistened a finger, then whipped over the pages, leaving a dirty impression on each. ' Here it is ! ' he cried in solemn triumph. * The lake that burneth with fire and brim- stone. That's wheie you're going to. They'll dump you right in, and v/on't care how much you howl or jump. It'll frizzle you. You'll jerk around like a hot pea. A sulphur match up the nose will be nothing to it' But the ex-minister, in his hypocritical zeal, had overshot the mark. His intended victim merely laughed stupidly in his face, then remarked, ' You've made me tired ; I'm off to sleep. So long.' 178 time oons, know that's off a el up.' ins of ; 'for, ill you lamna- Even it lerfully. e right \ wf§^ mm A '■i^ts)-:F^I0^* M'n i n ^,y * ji.i It' t i: il i m-: t 1 K'J ; i 0'' t :i : ! :i IK i ^ (fflenotgg more comfortable position. He knelt upon the captive's chest, and triumphantly called to Justin for one of the oak saplings. * Told you so, boy. I was only fooling first part. Tell you, it's no trick at all to diddle this chap.' With deep-throated chuckles, Justin selected one of the twisted sticks and handed it over, while the wives gravely seated themselves to watch further proceedings. These were interesting chiefly to Que- dane, for the Factor at once commenced to bring the stinging fibres across his naked flesh with measured strokes of a muscular right arm. While administer- ing justice, he lectured. * This'll teach you. It'll be a kind of hint for you not to monkey around after other fellows' wives. Do you catch on, Que-dane ? ' The half-breed struggled furiously, howled fiercely, and poured imprecations upon the head of the chastiser. But he could not release himself, and the Factor flogged on, until the tough sapling flew to pieces in his hand. The wives began to chatter and laugh widely, when the fragments were discarded, and Justin imperturb- ably handed over the second torturing implement. This was a spectacle of delight not presented to the eyes every day. Dull reverberations echoed out into the still solemnity of the evening. Indeed, the flagellation was continued with such unfailing energy that even Justin gave an exclamation of dismay. * Surely I you kill the boy.* 'It'll do him good,' panted M'Auliffe. 'Goldam! it'll show him I'm going to be boss around here.' 1 86 Pi' 1 ^n Jncibenf ^ •See! he jump like a frog,' said the half-breed, more interested than merciful. 'He'll jump like a derned locust before I'm through with him. Pass over t'other stick, boy. This one's getting sort of used up.' Justin obeyed, but wagged his head. *You kill him. He not jump any more. He lie quiet now.' It was as he said. Que-dane had ceased struggling and profaning. Now he lay along the ground, limp and motionless. * He's right enough. Only shamming a bit.* Then he ceased his muscular exercise, and bent over the prostrate figure. * See, here, Que-dane, are you going around wife stealing again ? ' There was no answer nor motion, while Justin shook his head again. 'You're right, boy. I've chloroformed him, so he's missed the lecture I was going to let him have. It'll be a wonderful good lesson, I reckon.' * You beat too hard,' said Justin, bending over the bruised body, and touching the injuries with dark, deft fingers. M'Auliffe stretched his limbs luxuriously. ' Pshaw! don't trouble about that, boy. You get to work and take the woman back to her husband. Tell him he's got me to thank for seeing her again. I'm going down to the river to wash some of this dirt and oil off my hide. Give me the axe ; I'll leave it with the old wife as I come along.' Justin gave a grunt of compliance, then walked over to the rescued woman and pulled her up by the arm. Accustomed to obedience she followed him, 187 H ! """sas^ ■ r:*r-**« is i but whether she was anxious to return, or willing to stay, did not appear. None could have told. Such a thought, likely enough, did not trouble her own brain. The two disappeared along the forest trail as the moon came up over the ledges. M'Auliffe pre- pared to descend to the river, but first he paid attention to the half-breed's lawful wife. * There's a job for you,' he said, looking over the bowl of his pipe, and raising a sulphur match, which spluttered with blue light in the darkness. ' Guess 'bout best thing it can do, is to look after what's left of your darned thief of a husband.' \\.> If--' ; ii . j ;n '■-« li I is- i8f? n; I I CHAPTER VIII THE PIERIAN SPRINU That same evening, the old Antoine, after listening to the Chiefs last tale of sorrow, sought Menotah in forest and by river, forgetful of age and weakness. At nightfall he came upon her, tripping lightly along the path, with song on her smiling lip^ and the usual joy at Tier heart. He stopped and drew her — anxious to please, though unwilling to obey — aside to his own tree-environed hut. Here, with the dramatic force and fantastic word- painting of his race, amid the long blackening shadows, he disclosed his heart. He spoke of the mysterious death of Muskwah, on the stricken mind of her father, and finally appealed to her, by all she held sacred, to return to the people who were her own, to break from the perfidious white, who would soothe the mind with flattery, while with dec:it he broke the trusting heart. The Ancient spoke without previous reasoning, for he had sufficient knowledge to understand that opposition must ever increase determination. At that hour he entertained but one central thought, namely the freeing of Menotah from the life i8» 1 '•( ' i i f«i I 1 fit ii'. ' is it'^j [Ii' 1'f 'I : ii|i*l ^ (fflenofag bondage she was accepting. Here was the single bright spot in a dark heart, the only elevating attribute of an embittered nature, his love for the happy girl, who had sprung among them, as he himself had often expressed it, * like a solitary flower waving in the heart of the rock waste.' With her customary careless air, Menotah listened to the Old man's eloquence, hands clasped behind her back, radiant eyes wandering from point to point of interest. When he paused, before a fresh effort, she drew a little away and said quietly, ' I am sorry Muskwah is dead.' So in truth she was, though with the kind of sorrow that breeds joy. For Lamont had assured her how necessary had been his removal. She understood that the Indian had sworn to take her lover's life ; that if one was left the other must go. It was far better to lose Muskwah than her handsome white. So she was resigned, and looked upon the murder as part of the dark lot of necessii/. But when she spoke there was no emotion of the voice, nor tear in the eye. This was so evidently a lip sorrow that Antoine's anger ebbed forth in reproach. * You say there is grief at your heart, child, yet you will give no sign. The man was your lover, and now is dead. In the camp there are maidens, whom he was never wont to favour more than with the pass- ing glance. But these beat their breasts for the sorrow of his end. You, for whom he would have dared all, stand unmoved, and speak of your grief in tones that well might express joy.' 190 ■ of rei th arJ ' > I I, ingle ating r the LS he litary tened id her point effort, 1 am ind of issured She D take must lan her looked essii/. of the ddenUy orth in yet you ind now whom he pass- for the lid have jur grief Z^e ^ievian gyring ^ Menotah's soft brow doubled in a frown. 'You are over-ready with words, old Father. Remember, T have cast aside childhood, and may therefore know my own mind. He, who has gone to the shadows, was no lover of mine.' You lie, girl,' cried the Ancient, smiting a feeble palm upon his staff. ' Has not the old Chief, your father, told me of his favour towards Muskwah? More, the young man himself has spoken of his warm hope. Many a time did he tell of his love, beneath the still evening, when he sought me for counsel.' 'Did the Chief also tell you that I looked upon Muskwah with eyes of love? Did the young man come ever with the tidings that I aad promised to be his bride ? You would ask me riddles, old Father. Now must you also be ready with answers.' ' 'Tis not so. You are but a girl, and one made to obey. Since your father chose, with the wisdom of age, a husband for you, it was your duty to receive him, and thank the Spirit that he had sent you so perfect a man. You know not, child, the peril that lies in self-choice.' Menotah stepped forward with all her lithe grace. She raised her beautiful features to the coloured air of evening, while the cheeks warmed in a glow of anger. Then she parted her proud lips for reply. * I have not your learning, old Father, for I am but a girl, yet one who would wish to know. But I am the equal of those who call themselves men. You are wiser? I can draw you from your knowledge m I : « h'l . n I! '? H- ii-'i path with a glance. You are stronger? I can disarm you with smile or frown. I can outwit you in your slow movements. Now you would hold out to me advice. I scorn it, though I have listened for the sake of the love you bore me once. But when you cast blame at me, I will throw back your words and tell you that I have planned out my own life path, that I will follow it to the end, in spite of you and all. Do you heed, old Father? Once you taught me the power of ready speech. Now it is the master who is put to silence.' The Ancient tottered to the door of the hut, then paused, leaning in helpless fashion upon his staff. His shrunken form seemed more dwarfed than ever, the wrinkled face more deeply lined. There was suffering in every slow movement. Weakly he quavered forth, ' I am old, so old that I have lost count of the years in the past. Now my age is mocked by those who were crawling children when I was already weak with time. Is it to be sorrow to the end, nothing but sorrow, until my body is brought to the fire, and memory fades away ? ' The girl was touched by her old mentor's genuine misery. ' Surely,' she said in soft accents, * none may pity those who sorrow when there is need to rejoice. Old Father, I would not cause you suffering.' The dull ears were quick to note the change in voice. All that was good in his withered heart poured from him, like a death gasp, in a last pitiful entreaty, — * Have I not always loved you, daughter, child of 192 t^t f pietian Opting ^ U.J the laughing heart ? Even now would I have shown you hatred, for loving one of the hated race, but I could not. Love is stronger than mind, greater than Nature, for it conquers both, and binds them down in chains. It must live and burn, nor may it be quenched at desire. Child, fair child, by such love — the only gift an old man can give — I pray you, be guided by my counsel. Come back to your people, and forget the past. All will stretch forth arms of love, to clasp you close. There will be joy in the encampment, with a song at every heart. For the tribe will not lose the sunshine, its morning and evening light, See I I am an aged man, and I beg this of you. 'Well can I look upon the days when you were but a crowing child. Then I would raise you in my arms and clasp you to my shoulder, while you would lift your baby head to smile into my face. Then I first felt the love fire stealing silently from your holding limbs to my old heart. So in the white winter I would clutch you to my heart, to warm the body which had never known the power of love. Also, when you were older, with uncertain steps you would walk at my side, while I vvcuid point out tree and rock by name, that I might list in to the music of your voice raised to imitate the sounds. 'Yet seasons came and went, each finding you beauteous, and leaving you more perfect. But one day, when I gazed on you in the sunlight, I knew you were formed to a woman, a being enriched with what loveliness and grace the Spirit may give. Jealously I watched you, flitting lightly, as the wind- N I. ii > I i t '•?*Miiwfci i l- borne flower blossom, from forest to river, always with the pure joy smile and the same heart gladness. Then I knew we had truly given you the name of Menotah — the heart that knows not sorrow. 'Then the white company came to our lanc\ I feared, for I saw your beauty ; also I knew the black hearts of those who had robbed us of our own. Yet now that which I have feared and fought against has befallen you. * Menotah, daughter of love, light of my age, listen once again to the weak old Father. Grant me that for which I ask. See ! I will come to my knees ; I will kiss your hands. Never have I humbled myself to any befou. C^'ldl give me back my love, and hear my words.' Tears of heart grief coursed drearily along the cheek wrinkles. His clenched hands shook, while the senile body trembled with emotion. The words fell without meaning against his ears. Sad thoughts were at his heart, and the tongue gave utterance, but whether the two agreed he might not tell. He had cause for sorrow ; for he spoke truth, when he said the girl before him was the only being he could love. Now the great aiifection, enshrined in a weak body, was held a thing without worth; it was to be laughed at and cast aside. A single satisfaction remained, and that a sad one. Future might bring change, she might yet learn that the love she now discarded was a thing unchanging, which would burn at the time of need with the steady flame of constancy. After the reckless 194 .' r ' ilways ,dnes3. ,me of nc\ I ; black . Yet ist has , listen ne that ices ; I myself ve, and ng the while The Sad le gave might ;h, when leing he rined in ^orth; it single Future that the hanging, with the reckless •I €^e 0ievian jtyttng 5> passion of youth, this would be the final haven of shelter, the last rock on which the broken soul might pause and rest a while, before continuing the pitiless march of despair. ' Girl, I have done. Forget an old man's tears. Yet bear in memory one thing: when his aid is needed, he will be found, with hand outreached — to save, or to avenge.' The last word fell forth in a sharp whisper. Then he leaned in exhaustion against the log wall, while there was silence save for his deep breathing. Menotah stood near, a resolute determination upon her paler face, defiance in every proud pose of her body. Presently she spoke, — ' Better had you saved breath and strength by silence, old Father. Must I again say that I have my will, that none shall turn me from following the desire of my mind?' ' I but spoke the innermost thought, child. Per- chance it has given you pain.' The Ancient was humbled in his weariness. ' It was as casting a handful of feathers to the wind,' said the rebellious girl. * Even the memory has now faded.' He raised his head half fiercely. ' It will return. A time lies in the future when the echo of my words will deafen your hearing. You will come back to me then. Yes, you shall return, and pray for my aid.' * I shall not need it. There will be one to protect me, st.onger than you.' He shivered as her words touched him. ' But I 195 M 1 i!t I ' ! i ^i| i I : -anjSi^iHnl'i*^^ i" -l. i I i si ( 1 ! ■ ! . ill ! look forward, child. I gaze into the black shadow beyond. My eyes are clear in spite of age, while yours are blinded with mistaken trust' He cast off his weakness and faced her. The blanket crawled from his lean shoulders and rustled to the ground. The eyes shone wildly, with that strange, prophetic instinct of the "ncivilised mind, * I tell you, girl, that time s/iall come. Even now it is not far distant. Then you will seek me out, you will creep to me with a prayer on your white lips. You shall come as a suppliant to me, seeking vengeance on the head of him you now proudly call your life support.' Night had now fallen ; the forest had grown black and weird ; shivering spindles of the northern lights crept tremulously, with whispering movements, back- ward and forward across a blue-v/hite sky. Menotah stepped back in all her happiness. Then her bright laugh rang forth, drowning, for the minute, soft moanings of the night breeze in the tree tops. ' Laugh, girl ; yes, laugh. It gives me joy to hear your happiness once again. In the coming sorrow I shall never listen to that sound which has so often brought warmth to my weak heart.' She laughed again, while the pines shook and muttered. ' You shall hear my laughter while you walk in life,' she cried merrily, * unless you would stop your ears to it. Old Father, I shall leave you to your sleep. You are speaking on strange things to-night.' She picked the blanket from the ground, and arranged it, with soft, womanly attention, round his 196 n tiadow while The rustled :h that mind, ;n now ne out, r white seeking proudly n black n lights ;s, back- Then minute, tops. to hear t sorrow so often )ok and lile you would :ave you 3 things nd, and iound his ^6e (jpiettftn gyring ^ body. Then she took his arm and led him to the door. * It is a truth/ he quavered. ' Surely as to-morrow's sun will kiss yonder trees, shall you cry for vengeance on the betrayer.' With a slight shudder — the night air was chill — Menotah stepped back from the hut. ' You cannot kill my heart with your bodings, old Father,' she said sternly. ' To-morrow, perhaps, you will speak in a different manner.' But, at the moment of departure, a tall figure, enveloped in a long cloak, came quickly from the shadowy trees in ghostly fashion. It might have been man or woman. As this apparition reached the clearing round the hut, Menotah beheld it and cried aloud with startled surprise. The old Antoine came to the door at the sound. But when his eyes fell upon the cloaked figure, a mighty fear of the unknown overwhelmed him. * To the water, child ! ' he cried shrilly. * 'Tis the Mutchi - Manitou. He comes from the swamp to seize you. To the water ! His power is only upon land.' But she showed no such fear. She merely caught the black cloak, and said, ' You should not be here. Why have you come ? ' ' You haven't been near me all day,' said the figure. * I am out of food, and hungry.' She drew this apparition back to the forest with eager hands. * I will come when the moon shines, and laugh at the spirits of the dead. But there is someone within the hut' 197 r:. p ;."'i' ■181 i,f f '^^ 1 Wu\ -W M The figure stepped away silently, while Antoine came feebly forward. ' What is this, child ? ' he asked, yet with tone of suspicion. Menotah turned to him in her liveliest manner, and again drew him back to shelter. ' We two have looked on much to-night, old Father. We have seen and spoken with the evil one himself.' Then her joyous laughter rose again and circled in the night. i i P ■ r r 198 oiti^ ntoine 1 tone lanner, o have ve seen circled ■ 1 CHAPTER IX THE LAUGH T.HAT DIED That short season, which northerners compliment by title of summer, had almost come to its last day of warmth. There were wonderful colours by day, with clouds of floating gossamers at night. Occa- sionally the wind veered, then brought along from the Arctic shores icy blasts, which angrily bit with foretaste of approaching winter. The last boat of the season, leaving that year later than usual, lay along the log stage ready for de- parture, with its fur and feather freight. Soon after sunrise on the coming morning she would leave the Saskatchewan, to escape the ice fields which would rapidly form along her wake. For the sharp cold of that evening was sufficient to drive anxiety into the pilot's heart. Already the greater part of the trees, that shed the green mantle in winter, had parted with summer beauty ; the long grass shivered in dry white stems; birds of bright colour had escaped to the more hospitable south, leaving in their place clouds of dainty snow-birds, that broke the silence of the cold air by the sharp hissing of con- stant short flights. Earlier in the day a slight frost flurry had suddenly fallen, which the dry wind had 199 .( ' lit ^IJ ^ Olenofa^ ' I f m ' ! ' >' drifted in pools of fairy crystals beneath the shelter- ing rocks, and in thin, white line along the rugged fringe of t'le desolate forest. Little matter of importance had occurred since the day Antoine had made ineffectual appeal to Menotah in the bush-trailed hut. The girl had left the people of her life to dwell with her nominal husband in a small forest shanty some distance from the fort. Here, during those few short weeks of dying summer, she found continuation of that perfect heart-whole happiness she had lived upon always. This was all she wished for, with the addition of love, and she was granted both. Never had she so entirely proved her right to the name of * heart that knows not sorrow,' as she flitted along from morning to night, a bright ray of pure joy, with the face of laughter and fresh mind of confiding love. For a short time Lamont was altogether satisfied that he would never wish for change. His young girl — she was wife in the sight of heaven and earth, for what is a ceremony when hearts respond? — fascinated him with her childish ways and caressing affection, her enticing laughter and joyous bursts of song. During those days the withered Antoine always heard, as he snuffled daily alongside of the hut, the clear music of her perpetual joy. She was like unfading sunshine as she lavished worship of limb and tongue upon her heart's god, so it may readily be conceived how Lamont fell for the time beneath the glamour of attraction, until he came to feel that he might contentedly live thus for ever, away in the summer forest, with the bright, beautiful girl. I A 200 shelter- rugged nee the [enotah people id in a le fort, ummer, t-whole was all she was >ved her sorrow,' 1 bright id fresh satisfied young d earth, )ond ? — aressing )ursts of Antoine 2 of the She was rship of it may he time came to er, away iful girl, t^e fegggg f gaf Meb ^ laying aside all association, forgetting the call of civilisation. But, to a man of his temperament, this, could be nothing beyond a dream, from which he must awake gradually, yet surely. There are other seasons than summer, and there are times when the flower is scentless, the tree no longer green. So the rapturous heart-warmth in his body faded with the cold approach of Nature's winter, and as the days grew shorter, the north wind keener, desire became re-awakened, the roving spirit of adventure called to him from distant lands. At length the surrounding desolation, growing more intense as autumn lengthened, became wearisome. Following on this he discovered for the first time a restraint on his movements. Then came the passionate longing for change, that indefinite and empty resource of the vacillating mind. He longed desperately for southern connections, actuated not unentirely by a curiosity to learn the actual fate of Riel and his followers, with whom he felt a sympathetic interest. There was but one more boat — a final chance for escape. If he allowed it to slip, he would be chained down to the lonely regions for many months during the intense cold of the Arctic winter. Days and weeks of mono- tony in such a spot ! The very thought was intoler- able. This hopeless prospect settled, without a shade of remorse, the wavering balance of his determination. But there was an ulterior motive. The 'yellow stones' given him by his fair bride were, as he quickly discovered, singularly pure, though small, nuggets of gold. Such a chance of great wealth as was here afforded should not be allowed to merge i i 1 L I' !l 1 M 201 ^ Q$tenota3 I ^ I ii: ■ ,. It ' \ •■ '< i I through lack of apph'cation. So he had resolved to collect a few companions, return to the north innmediately the spring winds opened the waters, and institute a search for the ancient river bed, where Nature seemed to have so lavishly scattered her treasures. Nor was he alone in such determination. As may have been observed, Peter Denton was more of the knave than fool. This gentleman of uncertain ante- cedents, about the time of the punishment of Que- dane, found his position too uncomfortable for tolera- tion. The very Indians despised him for cowardice ; Justin openly reviled him on chance meetings ; the Factor swore at him with unnecessary unction ; as a final degradation, he had narrowly escaped a thrashing at the hands of the Icelander, when the latter, con- trary to all the expectations of Dave, attained the stage of convalescence. So he became more than anxious to place himself within the bounds of civilisation. But he had no intention of returning empty handed. Sneaking round the hut one night, he beheld, through the window, Lamont closely examining the box of glittering stones. With un- divided interest he watched further, while the un- suspicious owner returned the treasure to a hole in a corner of the earth floor. Then he crept away, with an idea simmering in his brain of negotiating a small cou/> d'etat before leaving. Herein he was Hivoured of fortune. Of course the hut was always open to an invader, though generally occupied. But, by careful watching, he found his opportunity. When the others were assembled on 202 ,1 esolved ; north ers, and , where red her As may J of the in ante- of Que- r tolera- vardice ; igs ; the n ; as a iirashing ter, con- ned the ire than Linds of eturning le night, closely /ith un- the un- ole in a ay, with a small mrse the ;enerally )und his bled on 1 t^e SLauQ^ f gat bte b ^ the stage to welcome the boat, he crept into the hut, unearthed the small box, then absconded rapidly. The next day he took canoe to the mouth, caught the boat as she passed, and journeyed south, with joy at his avaricious heart. This v/as a fortnight back, so he was safe away. Now, on the drear September evening, when the shadows closed round quickly, the last boat of the year rocked and grated against the rotten logs, while Captain Angus smoked strong plug and quaffed draughts of black brandy with M'Auliffe in the fort. But human passion and action only ebbed into full play after fall of night. Then, within the reed-covered hut by the petroleum swamp, Menotah, her head and shoulders wrapped by a blanket of many folds, was talking with a dark figure half enveloped in a long cloak. Around them reigned an almost perfect silence; so peaceful that it was quite possible to hear the rustling of crisp leaves as they lightly floated across stagnant pools, to note the formation of crystal ice spears as they lengthened over some shallow water patch, slowly converting liquid into solid. From the low roof swung a lantern, casting strange shadows around the open space, faintly illumining Menotah's happy face, and at times the rugged features of her companion. * But what are you going to do ? ' she asked. ' I tell you, the boat sails very early in the morning. If you do not go on her, you must stay here all the winter. Are you well enough to go ? ' * I'm strong enough. Pshaw, girl ! I'm as good as ever I was.' 203 ■■■■ M' mi \i ii I" ■ » ■ ■ .- ,, * i ■■ ?-A' I! r ' m i ii ' But shall you go ? ' she asked again. ' I'll think. Can't fix your mind to these sort of things at one jump. I reckon you know what I'm making at ? ' Menotah looked at him strangely, as a shudder passed over her. Perhaps it was the biting wind, for she drew round her blanket more closely. * I cannot understand you. Why won't you explain to me, as you said you would ? * The other laughed hoarsely. ' What's the good of it to you ? ' She made an impatient movement. * Well, I want to know. Perhaps I am curious ; I believe most women are. Why did I find you as I did that night ? Who is it you are going to kill? Why have you made me hide you and keep quiet myself? * ' Keep it back a while longer, and I'll tell you the whole thing.' * But I want to know now. I have helped you right along, though you would tell me nothing. You said no woman's tongue could be trusted. As if 1 could not have kept quiet ! ' 'There was a risk, anyway,* replied the figure shortly ; and then, * Is the Chief alive yet ? ' She shook her head, while a faint shadow of sad- ness crossed her bright brow. * Ah ! he has breath, but nothing besides. He has shaken off strength, and is fading fast to the shadow land. Perchance he will not see the sun of another day.' As she finished speaking, the dull braying of a distant horn floated along the icy wind, to hang in throbbing echoes above the swamp. 204 \ \ t^t feaugg f gat bieb ^ They stared at each other in the dripping h'ght of the lamp. ' The boat horn ! ' exclaimed Menotah. The dark figure bent and bit his fingers. That heavy sound recalled to memory many things; chiefly a home and connections in the 'Spirits' Province.' He too was reminded of the bleak prospect which lay behind any further delay. So he merely put the question, ' You're sure the boat leaves in the morning ? ' * Yes ; Angus told me. I have never known her to leave in the night except once. They were afraid of the ice.' • It's cold enough now to scare them.' He drew a deep breath and beat his hands together. Then he muttered, ' I mustn't lose sight of him again.' ' What are you talking about ? ' said Menotah, with a short laugh. The other started. * You heard, eh ? No matter, girl ; it's all my racket.' She shook her small head with a puzzled air. This man was certainly an enigma, with ^'xs strange conduct and general silence. He wishc to be avenged on someone who had done him a great wrong. Before the departure of each boat he had never failed to ask her for the names of those going in her. Even then, unsatisfied by her declaration, he would steal secretly to the point, and, crouched be- hind the willow scrub, would scan the black monster as she passed. The keen-eyed girl had watched him closely, and learnt much, though not the one matter which was alone of vital importance. 205 Hi fi .• t yy ' 1 i' I'T '/>:? M Such thoughts as these she now put into words. But the response obtained was merely, ' Nobody saw me moving about, except you ? ' ' And old Antoine,' she added ; ' you know the evening you came upon us both ? It was just after Muskwah's death.' The remark, made carelessly, had an invigorating effect upon her companion. A look of utter incredu- lity passed across his worn face. ' You don't tell me /le's dead ? ' he cried. ' Of course,' she returned, somewhat unfeelingly * Surely I told you that ? ' * Never,' he said violently. ' Tell me now.' She shrank back a little. ' After all, I am wrong. I remember I did not wish you to know. But he was killed during that great storm of the last moon. His body was swept away along the great river. Nobody knows anything further.' ' Except you, I reckon,' said the figure bluntly. She had spoken the lie unfalteringly, but at this covert accusation her cheek went white, and the one guilty thought of the mind stabbed her with remem- brance. She stepped forward with her lithe motion and pulled the cloak from his spare shoulders. * What do you mean by that ? ' she cried. * Why should I know anything ? Do you dare accuse me of killing Muskwah ? ' He drew away from her angry hand. ' Pshaw, girl I there's more fire in you than I thought for. 'Course I thought you'd know more about him than others,' ' But why ? ' she persisted, in the same passionate voice. 206 t^e f^auQ^ i^ai Ue^ ^ * Well, he was your husband, and I suppose you liked him in a sort of way.' Her face broke up at once, and she laughed out- right. ' He wasn't my husband, and never would have been. The Chief wanted me to take him, but I — well, I was satisfied with someone else.' She glowed afresh with the thought of her present perfect happiness. * You're strange creatures, you girls,' said her com- panion, with a half smile. * Muskwah was a fine enough looking fellow in my fancy. Which of the gang did you pick out, anyway ? * Menotah's clear laughter rang forth joyously in the pure heart rapture. The sorrowless waves of sound circled above in the frost-gleaming air, and beat far around into the forest, over the crisp ground, above the nauseous marsh. Bui it was for the last time. Neither the figure before her, nor old Antoine> nor even the cold winds that sighed round her head to lift the dark tresses in sport, heard that laugh again. * Why ! ' she exclaimed, panting for her pure breath, * it was not an Indian at all.' A presentiment of sombre fact flashed across the listener's brain. His shrouding clcak whispered to the ground as he sprang upright and seized the girl's shoulder. His fingers dug into the soft flesh, until she would have cried aloud. But fear in his eyes froze up the power of speech. * Good God ! don't say it's kivi — not him. What's the name, girl ? Who is it ? ' His voice was deep and hoarse. The words were forced from his tongue in jerky syllables, barely 207 w '^\ i\ m: fil •"! ^ (ffl enota g intelligible. She moved her red Ups — scarce knowing if she spoke. Yet a sound proceeded therefrom in a whisper, forming a word, a single name, which caused the figure to clench his fists and swear furiously. Then she almost fell upon him. ' What do you mean ? ' she cried pitifully. * Tell me what you mean.' The forbidding exterior concealed a kindly heart. He looked upon the delicate, upturned face, the small nose, moist eyes, quivering mouth, all framed within the dark wreath of hair. He saw the slight figure, already ripening into the rounded lines of maternity. He thought of the meaning of treachery to that perfect piece of humanity. There might yet be opportunity for saving the heart from death. ' It's nothing, girl,' he said in surly manner. ' I was a bit astonished for a moment' ' No, no,' she cried, * it was not that. * I cannot be deceived so easily. I saw fear in your face, and there was pity. Ah, yes, there was pity for me ; I could see it. Why — tell me why ? I have aiways been so happy. You cannot pity me now. Why should you ? ' ' It's all right,' he said, with slight knowledge of comforting. * It's all a mistake of mine, anyway. Don't you bother yourself * I can't believe you. I am trying to, but it is no use. There was that pity upon your face. Ah, tell me. Tell me all — all — all.' Her voice died into a wail of distress, as she fell on her knees and grasped his hand. This pitiless work had been performed unintentionally ; the warmth and young life had been in a moment swept away by a mere suspicion of truth. Without the 208 hut, blasts of north wind blew colder, with flurries of snow, while thin ice sheets formed slowly upon each black swamp pool. * Where's he now ? ' came the abrupt question. * I do not know. 1 have not seen him since noon.' ' Tlie last boat leaves first thing in the morning.' The echo of his words had scarcely died away, before a deep sound came vibrating along the wind from the direction of the river. Here was direct contradiction to his statement. * To-night ! ' screamed Menotah, springing to the doorway. ' It is the second horn.' The figure joined her. He was calm, though the face was vengeful. The long cloak had been cast aside, and he was now fastening a buckskin coat round his body. * Make for the point,* he said shortly. ' Go fo/ all you're worth. I'll meet you there. We may catch her as she passes.' ' It is a long way, and the paths are slippery with frost.' They escaped from the labyrinth surrounding the swamp, and, when in the open, Menotah sped along with the agility of a deer. She easily outstripped the man, who followed at his best pace, the felt hat pulled closely over his forehead, as though he were still fearful of detection. *So long, Angus. Sorry you're not staying the night. I'll have to finish off the bottle with my own neck now. The frost's getting sharp all right. I guess it isn't safe to stay.' O 1 \ 1 ; i 1 1 i i ■ ■ : 1 • i i ^ M WnnfaliVilMiMuw^StLair ' a-*;^-,.:.- ■;«, "*'-'*~ i ■*B«»,'i::3V t^^iLjX^^JfWKfioiwif'^ V. { ' Forsaken ! Abandoned ! Betrayed ! ' So shrieked every waving tree, each lashing bush, the separate patches of white grass, awesome in the night. Her tired and bruised feet sped along once again. The eyes, burning and tortured, stared frightfully upon the black, distant headland, where the last pitiable hope of life joy yet reposed. On and on, through the growing rigours of the night, while the heart that knew not sorrow slowly broke and died. After the boat had drifted away, M'Auliffe lit up his pipe and made his way back to the fort over the crisp, frost-spangled grass. An otter cap had taken the place of summer's straw bonnet ; thick woollen gloves wadded his great hands ; above the breeches he wore Arctic socks, secured at the knee with gaudy little tassels. Standing by the water had made him chilly, so he reflected cheerfully upon the black bottle which awaited him behind the blot of yellow light ahead. • Goldam ! the cold's a terror,' he remarked to himself. * And I'm stiff as a frozen-in gold eye. Why, Kit, my girl ! Where have you sprung from ? Where's your pard, eh ? ' He patted the grey mare, as she emerged from the bush with a soft whinny. ' You'd be a lot better fixed in your stable, night like this. Not much of a place, eh, old woman ? Too strong on the ventilation question, 1 guess. Better than fooling around here, though.' He pulled off a glove and rubbed the frost from her soft nostrils Then he noticed she was trembling 212 nofa^ t^e £au90 i^ai bieb ^ ig bush, e in the ,ng once , stared d, where d. s of the ,w slowly iiffe lit up t over the had taken ;k woollen ,e breeches vith gaudy made him ,lack bottle ellow light :marked to gold eye. rung from? ed from the better fixed f a place, eh, on question, :, though.' e frost from as trembling and breathing strangely. Her white breath floated along the cold wind like steam clouds. Repeatedly she turned her head to sniff into the darkness behind. ' Something up,' mused the Factor. ' Kitty's scared, or she wouldn't play the old fool like this. I reckon there's someone there behind.' The mare backed violently, almost throwing him down. ' Goldam ! you're no chicken on my toes, I tell you, Kit. What's wrong with you, anyway?' He craned his neck forward, and presently muttered, ' Heard a sort of sound then. Kitty's derned cute. She don't rocket around for nothing.' The breath released by the utterance of such words had scarce floated away, before the bushes parted with sudden movement. The following second a figure ran forth by the mare's side, and disappeared instantly in the darkness. M'Auliffe had peered beneath the animal's neck, and, as the auroral lights shot for an instant into brilliancy, his eyes fell, for a breath only, upon that face, that figure. Then he shambled to his knees and embraced a frost-coated rock with hoarse exclamations, while the mare cantered briskly across the open space, snorting fiercely. * I've got 'em,' moaned the Factor, rocking himself backward and forward in the strange, ghost-like light. ' I've been warned of 'em, and now they've come. O Lord ! O Lord ! I never prayed in my life, and it's too late now. Besides, I wouldn't know what to say. Now I'll have to go away and be locked up in an asylum presently, while the little blue and green devils hop and tumble around all the time. I drank 213 li': i!8 ii: m ^m fmi t h mmiM square with Angus right along, and never mixed. There was only brandy, anyway. Now I've got 'em. I'm an old moonhead from this night forward. O Lord ! O Lord ! ' ' He won't come back again,' the dark figure was saying, half kindly, half angrily. The two stood upon the wind-swept headland. The boat had long since vanished into the night. Below rushed the mighty river, type of eternity's unceasing course. Above, the aurora flashed red shafts, while a soft moaning filled the sky. She was sobbing fearfully. ' He has only gone for a short time. He desires something — for me, perhaps. Then he will return to me.' The other placed a rough hand on her arm. ' It's no good, girl. You've just got to look square at a naFt / truth. We all have to at times. He's gone by this last boat. He couldn't get back if he wanted to.' Her head was bent, the face concealed in small fingers. • But he loved me,' she wailed. Her companion laughed hoarsely. ' He said so. Lamont was always clever with his tongue. But he can't love, girl. He hasn't got the heart for It' She looked at him with sore, tearful eyes. * You know him, then ? ' He stared in surprise. * Well, I should say so ! You know I've been hanging round here for the chance of fixing a certain man. I reckon you can guess his name now.' 'I shall hate you,' cried this strange girl; 'hate you, if you speak so.' 214 no ta^ mixed, got 'em. ard. O gure was headland, the night, eteinity's ashed red y- only gone T — for me, arm. 'It's square at a e's gone by wanted to. sd in small He said so. ue. But he for it. eyes. You ould say so! here for the ;kon you can girl; • hate * There's no reaching? the bottom of a woman's heart/ he said carelessly. ' You must do what you lil ' ^ W» '<'*»***■**■.*■■*-**■■ ^■!, ll II ■ "Nit" ^^1^, ^ (fflenotag She shuddered dreadfully. ' He is my enemy/ she said slowly. ' Oh ! no, no ! — not my enemy ! Yours — not mine!' The figure came up to her, and turned her pale face to the flashing lights of the north. • You can't love him yet, girl ? ' 'I gave him my heart,' she moaned, tearing her- self away from him. 'You cannot love against inclination, neither may you hate at will. I would hate him, but I ''m too weak — I cannot' A moment's pause, the. she cried at him again, ' Why should I hate him — because he is your enemy ? Tell me, how has he wronged me — tell me that ? ' It was difficult indeed to convince that innocent trusting heart of a man's treachery and faithlessness. ' All right,' he said again, with the same touch of pity in his voice. * Listen here a few minutes while I tell you.' Then he stood by her side and narrated a tale of black treachery, of darkest cowardice. A man had committed the crime, which might not be for- given. He had fled from deserved retribution, know- ing there was one man who held the damnatory secret. Then he had encountered that man, and determined to silence him for ever. But when he again became silent and wiped the cold frost dews from his face, the girl bent like a crushed flower, knowing that the joy of life was gone — that tLe dark shadow of grief had settled eternally across her path. Amid the sighing of the wind and the sharp passion of her own sense came the clear memory of her own words : — ' If anyone 216 enemy,' enemy I her pale loM can't iring her- e against will. I I cannot' lim again, Lir enemy ? that?' .t innocent ithlessness. e touch of lutes while ited a tale e. A man not be for- ition, know- damnatory man, and d wiped the rl bent like r of life was had settled ighing of the sense came -' // anyone should kill my heart with sorrow, I would give life and strength to the cause of vengeance. I should never turn back. The man at her side was astounded at the entire change that had passed, like the devastating breath of the cyclone, over the girl. A plain, blunt man, and inartistic, he could not know that pure happiness is one of the principal factors of human beauty, that its dissolution should be attended by such startling alteration, both of face and form. Menotah was a different being, of new appearance and manners. The bright light had faded from the lustrous eyes, now forbidding and snake-like. The unrestrained laugh had leit the mouth, which was now set in a hard line of purpose. From her sunken cheeks had departed the rich health colour, from her hanging head that haughty pose of conscious per- fection. Within, the heart was dead — cold — unre- sponsive. No longer did it pulsate with mingled delicious emotions of devotion and trust. It was now controlled only by an unrelenting design — by the inexorable duty of the future. There was no further use for the attributes of beauty. They had bp<^n once utilised for the purpose of attraction. They had succeeded — fatally so. Now their work was over, and they might well be laid aside. She was calm now, and the voice was steady when she spoke. *We will take each our own path,' she said. ' I have a husband to find, you an enemy. I shall be before you. He is mine. I have his word for it' (Her eyes flashed fiercely.) ' He shall be my victim ! ' 217 ^ I ti MA n. 1 i: 'F,r \ \ !. * Let it alone, girl,' said the other, in a voice meant to be kind. * A man can best do a man's work.* But she turned at him again, with the fury that was part of her new nature. 'What do you know of vengeance? I know a man's honour, a man's method. He will shoot from behind a tree, stab with a knife into his foe's back, then go away satisfied. No one but the wronged can punish the wronger. You call death the worse, but there are many things more bitter than the destruction of life. If you cannot believe that, look upon me and consider what I was. You men are weak after all when it comes to the point of vengeance. We women apply what we lack in muscular strength to the passion of the heart. We do not fail at the great moment.* ' It's no good crossing you — that's a sure thing,* said the figure. 'Still, I shall have the chances — * * I can make mine,' she interrupted. ' A man may give up disheartened after first failure; a woman will return with fresh energy to the attack after a hundred reverses. Listen to what I say ; judge me if I fall away from my oath. This man has betrayed me; he has broken my life, my happiness; he has abandoned me as the scorn of my people ; he has cast me aside like a broken weapon. May- hap he is now laughing at my broken heart. Therefore I swear by the Great Spirit, by the Light and the Darkness, by the River — even by the Great God of the white men — that I will have my vengeance, that he shall suffer for my sorrow ! ' So they passed together, from the sullen gleam- 2l8 nofof ; meant k.' iry that know a )0t from j's back, wronged le worse, han the hat, look men are point of lack in ;art. We re thing,' ances — ' man may woman ack after ly; judge man has appiness ; people ; on. May- art, it, by the -even by will have sorrow ! ' len gleam- ing of the Saskatchewan, to where the fires glowed red in the encampment. Later, on that same dark night of sorrow, the aged Chief lay in his miserable hut, dying. By his side stood Antoine, more withered and time- stricken than even his fast fading companion. Behind, at a short interval, appeared the heavy countenance of Menotah. Outside, within the ruddy circle of the smoke fires, squaws squatted in statuesque positions, softly beat- ing at drums to keep aloof the evil spirits. Also, many dark shadows of warriors crossed and re- crossed, muttering incantations to the weird cadence of the music, as they passed round the enclosure with arms waving wildly above their heads. The strangely coloured scene was unnaturally impressive. The tale of Menotah's grief was known, even to the dying Chief. For he had heard a muttered conversa- tion at his side, and had prayed Antoine to tell him all. The news, expected though it was, convulsed his feeble frame with a last passionate fury. He drew himself frantically upright, and stretched out a claw-like hand. * Why did we not slay him ? That would but have called down the wrath of others. Better their vengeance than my daughter's despair. Antoine, why did you not poison him with strong drugs ? ' The Ancient stood motionless, though his lips trembled as he mattered fierce words of execration. He had looked for this end from the first days of opening passion. He had besought the girl he loved 319 if I i ^•: II. ir?^ "»l ••( ij; to learn the lesson of hating the perfidous white, even as he did. Words had been useless ; no prayers might avail against the will of the stubborn heart. ' Trouble not, my father/ said Menotah. * I have knowledge now, and can avenge myself.' A dull light crawled into Antoine's eyes as he raised his head and noted her expressionless face. 'You speak like a daughter of the tribe, child — as one that I have taught. 'Tis well. You must live for vengeance. Pcfore this night I told you thus. Behold it is true.' * Vengeance ! Vengeance ! ' came in thick utter- ance from the now prostrate figuie. * You shall look from the hunting lands, old friend, and behold your daughter avenging herself upon enemies. The sight will gladden your heart, as you sweep over the fields, and slay the buffalo with hand that misses not its aim.' * I shall see her . . . you, also, aiding her.' ' Surely. Then, when the work is over, we shall hasten to join you in the sun country of joy. There sorrow will be lost in success.' * Is there light ? ' asked the dying wreck, struggling to raise his head. * There are the red fires below, and the cold ghost lights in the sky. The light is sufficient.' ' I see no longer . . . the blood is ice in my veins . . . to-morrow you will give my body to the flames ... I shall go forth with my weapons along the way of shadows . . . young again, with eternal strength.' ' Far from the white man, and beyond the reach of his cruelty.' 220 te, even prayers eart. ' 1 have s as he :ss face, hild— as :iust live 'ou thus. :k utter- Id friend, ;elf upon rt, as you ath hand we shall Y. There struggling :old ghost my veins he flames g the way strength.' the reach The Chief groaned, while the deep breathing grew more difficult. The fires crackled sharply, while the drum rattling rose louder on the night air. ' Daughter,' he gasped, ' come to my side . . . put your hand upon mint and swear.' Silently she obeyed. The blue fingers closed hungrily round the warm rounded hand of his child. For a space he lay silent, fighting for life breath. ' Menotah, my child-love, my age-light, I shall see you again in the joy land whither the Spirit calls me. . . . You must swear, by that you hold in honour, you must take the great oath, never to pause on the path of vengeance . . . until you avenge your wrongs on the life of the vile white. . . . Good Antoine will aid you. . . . Strike, child, and pity not. Let his blood be spilt for your lost honour.' The effort had been too great. He lay, throb- bing with death agony, while a thin stream of blood trickled from the mouth and coursed slowly along a deep furrow of the chin. ' He passes,' muttered Antoine, hoarsely. ' It is time. On such a night was he born. So does he die, amid the north wind and biting cold. Swear, child, lest he die cursing you.' A hollow exclamation ascended f om the withered form. ' Swear ! ' Then she placed the right hand on her father's head, and raising the other aloft, with stern voice and unflinching determination, took the oa.b which might not be broken. The final flicker of strength darted into the ex- hausted frame, that sudden flash of enerfy which ' ifi i, -il S ( ^^ If mTTm ; ]!;i w. ■I'. ' I'll • M 1 ll' 'r ^ (fflenofftg heralds the silence. *Antoine,' he whispered, 'raise me to the light. So will I die cursing the white man.' The Ancient raised the emaciated form in his shak- ing arms. For a few seconds, faint, yet intensely bitter words of condemnation and hatred fell from the blood-stained lips, before life faded away into the unseen. Menotah, still holding the hand, felt the shudder of the departing soul, and caught the distant echo of a voice — forced, as it seemed, from the cold body, after the passing of the Spirit, ' I go, daughter ... it is dark.' The dreary death chant and low groaning of the women beat upon the night. Half contemptuously Menotah turned from the still form, with passion unexpressed. Antoine lifted his slow, watering eyes from the withered remains, to gloat upon her hopeless aspect. 'You grieve not, daughter?* ' I have done with such things as joy or grief,' she said savagely. ' My destiny calls, and I leave the emotions for the sport of fools.' The Ancient shivered, for the cold bit into his stiff limbs, * You speak as he would wish to hear. You shall have your desire, child. I have said it.' Half mad, she turned to the open door and called to the dusky-featured ones squatting at the fires, — 'Shout louder, women. Howl until the voice breaks the wind and scatters the ghost lights.* Beat your breasts for the sorrow that lies within the camp. Louder, I tell you. Cry louder.' • The shout of the human voice repels and scatters the auroral lights. ^lence many Indian legends. 222 it ;d, 'raise lite man.' his shak- intensely fell from iway into hand, felt aught the med, from Spirit, 'I t^c Eaug^ i^ai ^ted ^o> im rr of the 1 from the ttoine lifted ed remains. ,y or grief,' ind I leave bit into his ish to hear. 2 said it. 3r and called ; the fires,— il the voice ights.* Beat lin the camp. the auroral liglits. Antoine laughed hoarsely. ' Ay, shout ! He hears you not. Perchance the god has an ear open to our cries.' The uncouth strain of savage melody swelled fit- fully upward in long, suffering cadence, then fell, dying away in shuddering murmurs, to ascend again more loudly, yet more bitterly. Menotah clenched her small hands and bit the pale lips in the agony of the yet living heart. Then Antoine was at her side, nervously plucking at the blanket that trailed from her shoulder. • Hearken, daughter. To-morrow we must burn the old Chief, and send him forth upon a long journey. Then there is duty — ' • You may forget,' she broke in coldly, ' but I — ' 'Peace, child, let me have speech. You were ever over ready with your words. I am aged, and strength is not mine. I must be satisfied with con- trolling the striking weapon. So 1 can only aid by cursing your enemy, and by praying to the Goa.' ' May your god-hunting be successful,' she said scornfully. ' The God of the white men has the greater power,* he continued unmoved. ' He has conquered ours, and bidden the enemy rule over us. Therefore, daughter, I would for the time follow that God.' • You, who always hated the white, become one of them I What plan is this ? ' ' Then I should be one of His followers, and He would hear my prayers. Now I have other gods, so He could not listen to me. I would beseech Him each day, to grant us vengeance upon the white man/ 223 1 ■. 1: ,ii ii"'i triiTTiinini.i Tin - •i- ! ^ (fflenofgg * Will you sport with the lightning ? ' she said calmly. ' I care not. I will take canoe, before the ice binds the river, and paddle for fix days. Then I shall find one of their doctors. I have heard the wanderers tell of him. They call him Father Bertrand. He must tell me what I am to do, to join the followers of the white God.' She turned from him wearily, longing vaguely for silence and isolation. * Pray 1.0 whom you will ; all gods are the same. They laugh at sorrow, and they heed not' * You shall see, child. I have greater wisdom than you. But now we must take our part in mourning for the dead.' He took her cold, resistless hand, and together they steppe J witb n the ruddy glow. Then he raised his sh king hands and cried aloud, — * Mourn, warriors ! The Chief, who led you to battle, who kept you in peace, who gave you wise counsel, your father, your ruler, is dead. Cry aloud to the Spirit, and sing your songs of grief. ' Mourn, women ! The Chief, who loved you, who protected you, who smiled upon you with favours, your father, your husband, is dead. Scream your lamentations, tear your hair, dig the sharp nails into breasts, and cry aloud in your grief.' The unearthly melody surged upward in a tumult- uous wave of sound, until the auroral lights flickered like flames in the blast. The air became thick and silvery with frost crystals, while sharp cold settled along the ground. This was a night of frost, of death — of fearful and unutterable despair. 834 enofa^ d calmly. ice binds n I shall vanderers and. He lUowers of aguely for 1 will ; all J, and they isdom than I mourning id together Then he led you to ve you wise Cry aloud rief. ed you, who vith favours, scream your irp nails into in a tumult- rhts flickered me thick and ) cold settled t of frost, of pair. PART III THE HEART'S PEACE Il): il •I I If; i CHAPTER I LAMONT A RADIANT flood of light poured from the white moon upon the ripph'ng waters of the Red River. A grove of black oaks along the bank waved silently in the clear night ; frogs chirped merrily from the fenced in fields, where fireflies sparkled and flashed before a long dark background of foliage. Along that portion of the shelving bank, where a young man and a dark-haired girl walked closely together, might b perceived on looking back the twinkling lights of Fort Garry, from whose stone walls the shadow of war had now lifted for ever. Nearer, outside the actual fort, a grey stunted tower shot upward from the thick of an oak bluff. Here rested in their last quiet many of the brave English and Canadian boys who had fallen in the late Rebellion. Winter and spring had passed since the desertion of Menotah. That time had wrought change to the western and northern country, a change, sad perhaps, yet necessary from the standpoint of civilisation. The last traces of vengeful fire in the breasts of those who had joined the insurrection had been stamped out, the final agreement had been made, the white again 227 'ii: ^ i 4 ^ (fflenofg^ triumphed. Louis Riel had swung upon the gallows at Regina, before the eyes of many on that dreary, treeless plain, that no traveller who has once seen can forget. There was no leader, no keen Fj^'rit left. So the survivors gladly snatched at thai, only thing they could now ask for — pardon. Yet the question of justice, from the position of the conquered, may be still worth considering. One of the half-breeds most zealous to the cause spoke thus in the echoin<_( valley * before his priest, — 'Why did I fight, my Father? I, who have the blood of the white men in me. It was for that reason that I fought, and that I killed. The white man came into a country which was not his, which had belonged to others for many hundreds of years, and he saw that the country was good, and full of animals. Also he perceived that the women were beautiful. So he said, I will make this place my home, and call my friends to come here also. These men came, and brought with them guns and fire-water. Then they took the women, first one and then another, and had children by them. So was I born, and I have brothers and sisters of many different mothers. Yet the father was the same. But what could the Indians do against the white man's guns? They said, give us back our wives and our daughters, also our land and our buffalo. But the white man only laughed, and gave them fire-water, which ate away their man- hood and their courage. So they said at length, we will rise up and reclaim our own. We have now nothing to lose, for the white man has taken all from * Qu'appelle. (Who calls ?) 228 ,enota0 > sallows Lt dreary, Dnce seen F, Tit left )nly thing tion of the r One of spoke thus o have the that reason white man which had f years, and of animals, •e beautiful, ne, and call n came, and Then they nother, and and 1 have others. Yet the Indians :y said, give so our land nly laughed, y their man- at length, we ^e have now iken all from \ fegmonf ^ us, except life. Let him take that also, or give us back that which makes it happy. That is why I fought, my Father.' It is a strange fact in modern times, and one so far unrecognised, that the Rebellion should have been crushed by the power of the Roman Catholic Church. Standing merely upon the path of duty, Archbishop Tach6, with his band of gallant priests, amongst whom Father Lecompte must stand predominant, succeeded in quenching the flame of human passion entirely by means of that extraordinary devotion entertained by these ignorant children of the Re- bellion for their kindly teachers. Actuated the Archbishop certainly was by a high sense of duty, yet it was also right that he shou'd subsequently look for that reward which the Govern- ment had promised, as some slight return for the salvation of a country. It is notorious that such reward was never paid. It is, or should be, univer- sally known that there was but one care which dis- tressed ' the man of the great heart,' as his * children ' affectionately named him, upon the deathbed at peaceful St Boniface,* still a care heavy enough to almost break that generous heart The Government had steadily refused to ledeem their promise, or to grant to Manitoban Catholics that separate school system which is their right and their due, which above all has been solemnly assured them. Still, it may not yet be too late to perform a tardy justice, which, on the side of the Government, is a duty. Now the days of the bloody scalping knife have * See prefatory note. 229 ,!ll ' I .,, I, ; i T ■ -J' I: I sunk into history. Tiie nondescript individual, who to-day answers to the title of Red Indian, is a very different being from the noble prairie trackers of the olden days, before the introduction of whisky and vice. Up in northern districts, far from the damning pollution of traders and treasure seekers, may still be found at long intervals the haughty heathen warrior with his paint and feathers of liberty. But in all other parts the immorality of the white man has done its work too successfully. Is proof required? Then listen. It may be doubted whether there is at the present time a single full-blooded Indian alive on the Canadian prairies ! Should such types of humanity — Longfellow's * Hiawatha ' accurately depicts them — be utterly ex- tinguished ? Look at the Menotah, the Muskwah, of this work. These are true life studies, which -nay hardly be found to-day, never until civilisation, with all its attending evils, has been left far from sight. Is the taciturn, morose half-breed, heavy in feature, abnormally dull in intellect, an efficient substitute for such ? At that particular spot on the Great Saskat- chewan where the scene c»f this narrative is for the most part laid, any at this day might well blush at owning affinity with white men. That once noble race, the origin of which is beyond all conjecture, who possess secrets, powers and occult arts beyond all our discoveries, must be blotted out during the lives of most. Riel made an effort to save it, not an unselfish effort, still he did his best. Where ho failed, none may succeed. But to return to narrative. aso hi lal, who s a very rs of the isky and damning ly still be I, warrior Jut in all man has required ? there is at m alive on ongfellow's utterly ex- tuskwah, of which nay sation, with from sight, in feature, ibstitute for :eat Saskat- e is for the ell blush at once noble conjecture, arts beyond during the ve it, not an ere he failed, One of the two figures on the Red River bank to the north of the fort was Lament. His companion was a young girl of French extraction, named Marie Larivi^re. She spoke the English with a pretty accent, and hung to the arm of the handsome young man with clinging tenderness. The gates of Garry were now thrown open wide. Any might go forth upon the surrounding prairies or enter the young city. All danger of hostility was past, and the land was at peace. 'But talking about being constant,' the girl was saying; 'it is such an easy thing when the one we love is present.' ' And rather too much the opposite when he's away, eh, my Marie? ' said Lamont, with the lover's softness. 'Well,' she said, with dainty hesitation, 'one naturally looks for that which custom has made us long for.' ' But when I was away, you found others to take my place, didn't you?' he asked, gazing eagerly at her small face, with the dark crisp curls nodding over the forehead. • It's not a fair question, Hugh. You may be jealous if you like, but still I have something ag?inst you. That long mysterious journey north ; you can't give me a reason for that.' ' Business, chirie. I thought of you all that time.' She laughed. 'You were quite satisfied with thought only. Come, tell me the truth. Was there not some hidden attraction there ? I have heard that the Cree girls c?re beautiful — some of them. Was it one of them ? ' 231 i! 'i 'i- > I t/Lk^i^HLst^^ii^^^.^ -^**— .■1» m'„' l I,, iiUfc... }M "^1 'Mm Ptr^f 241. I ki girl to a promise of marriage with the ugly little Captain ? Perhaps she had lost all sense and reason, poor girl. Then he said, ' Tell how you managed it, Dave.' ' This way,' said the Captain, nothing loth. ' I was fooling round by the boat, watching the boys loading her up, when Menotah comes round to me all of a sudden, and asked if I'd takvj her across lake. She couldn't pay for the passage, but she did her beautiest to make me say I'd agree.' 'Well! well!' ''Course I hopped at the chance. Said I, see here, Menotah, you want me to take you south. Just say you'll splice with me, and I'll put you across the lake many times as you like.' 'What did she say?' ' Fairly corked me, I tell you. Didn't think, or stop a minute, but just said yes at once. Made me promise I wasn't to come round her, till she'd done some job or other down Garry way. But say, Alf, what's come over her ? Her eyes are like a couple of chunks of ice, while there's never a smile to be seen on her face. She's a darned pretty gal yet, all right. Queer things gals, ain't they, Alf? There's no understanding them. Guess she's been after me all this time. Well, well, she's caught me now, so I reckon she ought to be happy.* The Factor was deep in thought. ' You wouldn't take her across, 'cept she promised to be your wife, eh ? ' he said slowly. 'You wouldn't want a fellow to lose a good chince, would you ? ' Q 11 **i^:!i I" '^ i IS '< .!' ^i\r\ li'u ^&*^«#e«fc«««^»w»e<* ;■ I ' i n I '!: ! PUJi 1 1 '• I 11 > ^ (gtenol^^ s; sr- - i " - ■-•" «'* drop you. You mark ">^'f- ^If, you don't . She won't marry me, eh ? se ^.^^ know the first darned thmg about ,t, make her.' . = b. You'll find • And that'll be a tough sort no^_^^^^„g Bet Menotah isn't the sort fjf'° ^^^e.' you what you like you don t marry . ^^^^^.^ •You're getting cranky, rnutttr ^^ •■'•-°''-rrr'Xsr:-^°'"'-r marry my gal. If 1 'f^"^ ^^^^,,_ she don't by her word, 1 "°"' '^'^ , " „,■ P^V any of her w--;^X\tr with you there, Dave. Uernea I How's that, lad ? You'll have to take her then^ ^^^^^ At this decided check, the angry V ^^^^^.^^ off — -^ -^:;°::f Jtere:::d -themselves comfortable siesta in the shade^ ^^^^^^^^^ From beneath heavy ^y^^''^^^^ He enjoyed ,he retreating fig"--* ^ ^tt ;he kind heart, getting the better of Dave. ^^^^^.^^_ ^^^^^ which beat '^;7*J,:;;for?he broken girl, once lurked a secret and real pity V! Ill eno U^ 1 give it : to serve lo, mind, s a thing le'll likely ■^ you don't e\l you, I'll You'll find .aking. Bet Dave.' the Captain. 'm goi^g ^° rolng to stay I She don't ith you there, assage myself, hat, lad?' :aptain moved age, muttering ed themselves •inallv he found ndian, who had ,sence to get a Auliffe watched ,s. He enjoyed ihe kind heart, i exterior, there broken girl, once t^e &ife;